#i am currently physically incapable of it which means i’m currently dependent on one of these fools to go do it

[mars-ipan]

i’m hungry and want a snack but we have no food in this damn house

[thephoenixandthecrocodile]

F, G, N, W, and X for the Get-to-Know-the-Writer Ask Game

Thank you for the ask!

F: Do you prefer to write standalones or series?

I am physically incapable of only writing a standalone book, haha. I’ve tried, but even my short stories eventually end up connecting to each other to make a bigger world/story. Right now I’m working on a twelve-fifteen book fantasy series, a five book scifi trilogy, and thinking about a mystery series set in Chicago in the 1920s.

G: If you could tell your younger self anything, what would it be?

I would tell my younger self that they are loved, there’s nothing wrong with them and they’re not too much, and that their worlds are amazing and worth dedicating themselves to. Success is so much bigger than when one is published or how.

N: Do you hide secret/easter eggs in books?

Yes, I hide quite a few easter eggs, most of them are nerdy historical references or Gargoyles/X-men references because I’m a nerd.

W: Are you a planner or pantser? Or somewhere inbetween

I’m a strange pantser-planner hybrid. When I start a book I need to flounder a bit without any real goal or boundaries, even if it means rewriting zero drafts over and over again, until i figure out which characters/plot lines are most interesting and then I sort of plan from there.

X: What inspires you as a writer?

It sort of depends on the project, honestly. I generally find a lot of inspiration from my playlists, from the horror and mystery shows I’m watching, from the historical time period I currently have a hybrid fixation on, but sometimes it can be a single tweet I read on twitter that sends my brain down a rabbit hole that ends up inspiring an entire character

[mumblesplash]

your tags on that post about the dsmp twitch con panel were really interesting! i'm not very knowledgeable on the subject, but it seems fascinating- what do you mean by the panel moderator being bad? what are the hallmarks of an experienced one?

oh boy well first of all i am not claiming to be particularly knowledgable myself, but even as someone who is very comprehensively Not An Authority on the Matter and whose knowledge of the streamers on the panel was probably comparable to the actual moderator prior to their arrival onstage (read: i knew almost all of their screen names and not a whole lot else) there was still a lot that seems. kinda obvious?

like for example while going through the handful of questions she asked everybody before opening it up to the audience, nobody was really taking initiative or elaborating on their answers. someone who was more comfortable interviewing would have been able to pick up on the stiffness of their subjects and known to give more direction (just something as simple as “okay we’ll start at this end of the table” and then prompting each successive streamer when the current one ran out of steam) and would have known when to ask follow-up questions (like noticing hey this person has more to say but isn’t sure if they should, i’ll reassure them/ask what they mean).

(actually on that note—the streamers seemed to really flounder with the lack of direction and ended up compensating by essentially turning dream’s mic into The Talking Stick, despite everyone *except* dream already having a mic in front of them. i found this way funnier than i should and would have clowned on them about it in the mod’s shoes but either way she ideally should have put a stop to it by regrouping and establishing a speaking order or SOMETHING.)

there was also the matter of the audience questions which. were bad. they started bad and largely stayed that way. this in itself is not something the moderator could control, but she reallly should have stepped up and made herself the bad guy the first time someone tried to use their turn on the mic to ask for a picture or give someone on the panel a gift instead of asking a question. just a simple “sorry we can’t do that/requests aren’t allowed please stick to questions” would have smoothed things over in a way the streamers couldn’t do. dream especially is notorious for having no parasocial boundaries and tbh comes across as physically incapable of rejecting people. and regardless of your feelings about that, in an irl setting this means anyone moderating a panel with him on it HAS TO draw those boundaries for him to keep the event running smoothly. idk that just seems so glaringly obvious to me and i don’t understand how anyone with actual experience running events and even the most barebones knowledge of the *most famous guy there* wouldn’t have known this was necessary?

i’m keeping my focus limited to your question here, but for the record i don’t want to put too much blame on the moderator. there was a LOT going on with that panel and she was kinda thrown into the deep end with what seems to have been almost no prep time and certainly with no consideration for her own aptitude.

basically, she wasn’t great, but i’d argue she wasn’t exceptionally bad. as the mod in a situation like that, your job is to control the social environment and keep the conversation on topic and interesting. the difficulty of this role varies wildly depending on the sociability, charisma, and public speaking experience of the people being interviewed. the chosen moderator of a panel full of wildly popular 18-24y/o minecraft streamers who made names for themselves during the two years no one on earth touched grass needs to be really, really good at their job

[theboywantscoffee]

The Handler is really a fascinating character to me as is her dynamic with Five and how alike they are. Get ready because I’m gonna go on a tangent about them.

I think it goes without saying that in many ways The Handler and Five are very similar people. They’re both pragmatic, goal orientated, cold, and quite simply, both willing to do absolutely anything needed to achieve what they want despite the repercussions others might face at their expense. They both lack a significant level of humanity, something that clearly is a requirement  to be able to do the work they do/did at the Commission. They are constantly at a battle of wits  and attempting to one up the other, both proving to be a formidable foil to the other consistently throughout the show. 

Where things start to contrast between the two is how they grew to be the people they are now. With Five, well, we know why he is the way he is. Five isn’t simply just a product of his childhood. Yes, he still retains a good level of characteristics from his youth into adulthood (arrogant, brash, sees himself as better than everyone else) but Five ultimately was sculpted into the man he is today due to his time subjected to the apocalypse and then shortly after, the Commission. 

The apocalypse did a number on Five. It isolated him for over four decades. It tore layer after layer of humanity away from him until he was left so distanced from other people that segueing into becoming an assassin was like second nature. It forced him to become entirely dependent on himself for survival in every aspect of the word. Physically, of course, he had to take care of all his basic survival needs; food, water, shelter, first aid, etc. Mentally and emotionally? He created a whole ‘nother person in the form of a mannequin to help him retain any semblance of either of those things. It damaged Five so deeply that afterwards he was left almost entirely incapable of empathy (key word, almost), unable to ask others for help/acknowledge he needs help, and able to see assassination as a reasonable means to justify an end. 

Five was left broken by the apocalypse. He is a product of it. And after going through that traumatic ordeal, he was offered a way out but only through accepting employment at the organization that sat by and allowed his suffering to go on for decades. (I’d love to go into the body modifications/DNA manipulation but that isn’t canon compliant for the show anyway (yet) so I won’t). He was transformed into the perfect killing machine. He took the lives of anyone and everyone who stood out of line by the Commission’s standards. Many who I’m sure weren’t actually bad people (ex, Lila’s parents), but because they were deemed irregularities in the timeline (or they were someone who The Handler could benefit from their death, ex Lila’s parents), they had to go. One doesn’t complete a task like that regularly without lacking a level of morality or connection to fellow humankind. 

But The Handler? We don’t really know her back story at all, so perhaps this is going out on a limb here, but I can at the very least say that she did not go through what Five did. There is really no one in the series whose backstory can equate to Five’s. And while I am not entirely excusing Five for being a shitty person sometimes, he and The Handler are very different in the fact that while he was sculpted into one, I think The Handler was just born an awful, monstrous human being. Actually worse than Five. And you know why?

The Handler isn’t even capable of love or empathy or putting anyone else before herself. We don’t see this at all, not even once. The Handler does things strictly for the benefit of herself and no one else. Even when her own self proclaimed daughter asks her if she ever loved her, The Handler doesn’t answer and then proceeds to murder her. Que sera, sera. (Whatever will be, will be). No remorse. No regret. Nothing.

Five, for all of his faults and flaws and uh, murder, still remains more connected to humanity than The Handler. Despite everything he has experienced, everything he has lost, he still has an inkling of heart that’s still beating for others left in him. Because Five still does love and care for people - his entire life purpose is to keep those people, his family, safe and alive, even at the expense of his own happiness and life. Five puts his family before himself every episode, every damn step of the way. He survives 40+ years alone and then works as an assassin for an unspoken measurement of time, all to save his family. 

The Handler throws up the front of being a people person and charming. And she does it really damn well. But in reality she is not morally gray. She doesn’t do some good things and some awful things. She is just all around horrible. She employs Five, again, to work for the organization that tore so much away from him. She dangles the idea of a new body before him, gives him a suit with the claim, “clothing make the man, Five,” as if he isn’t something to be taken seriously in his current physical state, as if he still isn’t the man who survived a lifetime in the end of the world and becoming an assassin. She claims that Five owes her because she ‘saved him from a lifetime of being alone’, which in actuality she watched and allowed him to suffer exactly just that. (I have another meta on here about that scene in particular, which you can read HERE). She tricks Five into murdering the board so she can assume power, all under the guise of claiming to help him get his family back to 2019, only to then use him as a scapegoat in their assassination. She literally kills him (almost) and all of his siblings. She writes the kill order on Lila’s parents, lets Five kill them, and then kidnaps Lila all for her own benefit. She continuously lies to her, ultimately betrays her, and kills her too. She sees zero wrongness in kidnapping a disabled boy from his mother so she can transform him into her weapon just like she did Lila. There isn’t a single instance in the entirety of the show where The Handler shows even an ounce of regret, only shock and anger when things don’t go her way. She is power hungry, merciless, and quite possibly even deranged with how unemotive she is towards other human beings.

And one more thing I want to touch on with The Handler that is a bit of a controversial topic in the show - her handsey-ness with Five. Her unnecessary touching and closeness. I am a firm non believer of the idea many have that her and Five used to be involved romantically or physically in any way. I think it’s quite a reach to imagine Five trusting her whatsoever at any point during their time knowing one another. Five is observant as hell and smart - I just can’t see him ever having an ounce of trust in her, especially with again, how she blatantly admits to him when they first meet that the Commission has been watching him for some time. So no, I don’t think her creepy touches with him have anything to do with a former fling (even if Kate or Aidan play into it that way or claim they might have in the past - sorry, headcanon not accepted lol). 

I view her behavior as demeaning. I see it as her being condescending towards him, like, “Oh, see how you betrayed me and now look at how you fucked up. Small and weak and nothing to be taken seriously.” She treats him like the tiny child he has physically become and she does it to make him feel inferior and like he has no control of the situation he is in or his life. It’s a slap in the face, a reminder of what he has done to himself because he left the Commission, and she does it because she knows how much it bothers him to be perceived that way. Everything she does and says around Five, she does to make him feel small. 

All in all, I really do love The Handler. Do I love that she played a larger role in season 2 than Carmichael? Absolutely not. I don’t love what her character did for the writing or the plot of the show and how it backburnered a lot of things. I think they missed out greatly on a character who was already a fascinating antagonist to Five (Carmichael). However, Kate Walsh is an absolute delight to watch on screen. Her and Aidan have great chemistry and play off one another very well and their scenes are certainly some of my most favorite to watch. I think The Handler is an amazing villain and keeping her as a female as opposed to a male Jon Hamm esque actor as they originally were intending to do was a great idea IMO. I love a female bad ass, even if she is a villain. I’m sad we won’t see more of her purely because she is so fun to watch (and her wardrobe is utter goals) but I’m definitely ready to move on to the next set of antagonists for our favorite dysfunctional family.

[thegirlwhohasnochill]

The Disease of Addiction

Euphoria Special Episode Part 1: Rue (Recap & Review)

Before I begin my official review of this episode, I would like to preface my thoughts with a bit of a primer about spoilers and trigger warnings. The show covers a range of topics from addiction to mental health. Still, I specifically want to warn anyone reading that I explicitly talk about and mention the topic of suicide in my review. If this is triggering for you in any way, please, don’t read ahead and take care of yourself! Okay, that’s it; I hope you enjoy my thoughts, and please let me know if you have any feedback or comments for my review and things I can change or fix in the future.

Where to begin with such a loaded episode...we knew the format and style of the episode would be simplistic based on the current realities of filming amidst a pandemic and what we saw to be a scene from Season 2 that the creator Sam Levinson expanded upon. Zendaya herself let us know that the episode's storytelling method would be vastly different from what we’ve already seen on the show. The format and simplicity of the episode, in contrast to the loaded dialogue and content of the scenes, are perfect. The camera takes you right into the middle of these conversations with Rue and Ali. But before we can even dive into what they talk about, we have to address the elephant in the room that is Rules. The episode begins with what is probably one of the most gut-wrenching sequences I have seen on the show. Because we know the reality and truth of their current predicament, Rue’s peppered kisses across Jules’ body and her tight squeezes and hugs from behind Jules evoke a strong sense of loss and pain for the viewer. The sheer intensity of the physicality of Rue’s affection for Jules is so overpowering and overwhelmingly present, we can almost feel the imbalance in their relationship through the screen. There is something to be said for the harsh reality of Rue’s dependence on Jules being reflected even in such a non-objective dream-like sequence. And yet, even in Rue’s wildest dreams and happiest stupor, she does not imagine the sobriety of her future. To me, that is indeed the crux of her character and the essence of this episode. Ali himself says, “The point is your sobriety.” And while it may feel like a focal point of discussion, the conversation flows in a way that seems to bounce back and forth between the two like a simple tennis match. It is easy to follow between Ali’s most potent clearest convictions about how the world works and Rue’s drug-addled hazy perception. The inherent contrast between their mental states and the different points of life in which they are both standing hit the viewer at alternate moments.

But we know Rue is not sober even as she lies to Ali and stumbles out of the bathroom, the shaky camerawork conveying her recent use. She is wearing the same shirt from the dream but has her signature hoodie on, her messy curly locks running down her back and glassy eyes staring straight ahead. The scene moves from her imagination of life with Jules to her lies about use. Her eventual admittance to being a high-functioning user happens as quickly as the conversation moves from sobriety to faith.

So I might be biased and hence don’t think I am incorrect in admitting that Zendaya has never given us a bad performance in her life. Even as she lies to Ali’s face and he is quick to call out her apparent contradictions, the faint slurring of her voice and her glazed eyes tell all. As striking as the conversation is, it feels even stranger for me to admit I felt comforted by Rue’s confession to thoughts of ending her life. And even as she admits to the darkest moments in her mind, Ali’s face and reaction are an even better neutralizer for what would generally be such an alarming thing to say to someone you barely know. As they continue to discuss her eventual relapse and all the reasons behind it (including racing thoughts encompassing “all the things I remember and all the things I wish I didn’t”), the viewer can envision the sequence of events that was shown to us in the finale - her fights with her mother and sister, her first time using when her father was fast asleep, her father’s death, her sister finding her after her overdose.

As much as I would like to quote the entire episode, I have to say Ali’s monologue about the idea that none of us are born evil and that society views mental illness and addiction as a personal moral failure rather than an overarching system many of us are incapable of overcoming, to be one of, if not the most decisive moments of the entire show. The line about coming out of the womb with “a few wires crossed” but still a beautiful baby girl eventually messing her way up through life struck a chord in me. I didn’t ask to be born this way. I don’t feel in control of my mind or the way it ever seems to work. And I’m always going to be a bad person. The disease of addiction and mental illness lets you - no, it makes you - view everything you have ever done in your life as not a consequence of the way your mind works, but as an active choice, you have consistently made, as you screwed up everything you’ve ever loved, and let down everyone you have ever cared about. The disease is not you as a person or even the way you think, and yet it is powerful enough to feel that way. Almost like the rapid cycling between mania and depression, the disease flips between, making you feel like the most powerful, invincible person alive and the absolute scum of the earth. There is nothing in between.

Ali’s backstory and his monologues about his change in faith from Christianity (when he was previously known as Martin) to Islam and the world's revolutions were fascinating. Side note: I did think the line about women converting to Islam was unnecessary, but I digress.

Rue’s understanding of the Narcotics Anonymous program's steps was the perfect way to bring in the conversation of faith. As she mentions her difficulty in coming to terms with the idea that there is greater power in charge of her behaviour and the way she surrenders herself to drugs, Ali chimes in with, “You don’t believe there is a power on Earth greater than Rue.” She disagrees and continues quoting and citing different sources she believes to be omniscient and great. And I absolutely agree with her. To me, there is no greater power than the source of art, the music that keeps me going, that feels like it’s the only thing keeping me from stopping the blood pumping through my veins. I understand Rue. But I also understand Ali. And yet, when Rue goes on to talk about the inexplicable workings of the world, my heart stops. There is no reason. There is no reason for the absolute pain and loss and suffering I’ve experienced, for the trauma I’ve witnessed and endured. For the absolutely horrifying things, the people closest to me have lived through. It is merely chaos. There is no reason I wake up every single day, regretting the fact that I did indeed wake up and that I am alive and breathing. So I Understand Rue. But Ali’s monologue about the moral arc of the universe and the unfathomable ways in which life and history line themselves up, to open our very eyes to the realizations we come to daily, is overwhelming. And yet, while he is waxing poetic about the intricacies of the world, we can see Rue’s exhausted eyes glaze over further, still unimpressed. “Maybe I’ll start a revolution like Malcolm X or something”, she quips back. But Ali is quick to counter; revolutions are no longer revolutionary.

Life as we know it is hypocrisy and foolish symbolism, only emphasizing his point about the universe's ridiculousness. Does any of it have meaning? Or is the meaningless void just another puzzle piece in a picture we will never get to see? There is also something to be said about Rue’s facial expressions as Ali continues his train of thought about her “generation”. As we often do when we hear our elders dismissively brush off our many concerns, she almost rolls her eyes. But he is listening, and he knows. “You think you’re out here fighting a revolution, and Bank of America is on your side? Give me a fucking break.” He’s not wrong. His speech reminds me of the masses of teens on TikTok creating video content specifically catered to an audience with an aesthetic that glamorizes the image of a revolutionary teen hero. But instead of a blazing bow and arrow, it is the common cell phone and a punchy soundtrack filtered through digitized audio. What would typically come across as preachy in any show catered to teens is, in fact, poignant. It also reminds me of how self-aware Euphoria is, knowing it’s guilty of falling into the same trap it accuses the viewer of doing.  

You have to commit to bettering yourself, Ali essentially tells Rue. And to me, that is the most inherently human struggle we will ever face in our lifetimes. As long as we exist, we have to face the idea that each day is, in fact, not going to be easier than the last. And when he tells her that he believes in her and that the hope of her success (that may one day come) should be greater than the failure of her current demise holding her back, I want to cry. I keep thinking about that edit of Rue to this is me trying by Taylor Swift.

The music of the song that Jules has texted to Rue swells, and it is easy to get caught up in the angst of the moment. It accompanies the words, “I miss you.” And if it wasn’t for Ali’s conversation with his daughter as background noise, one would simply soak in the gut-wrenching pain of their separation. The juxtaposition of Ali trying his absolute best to cling to his family as Rue continues to isolate herself from her loved ones and push herself further into the abyss makes my heart physically hurt.

Ms. Marsha’s spell-binding words of wisdom about sobriety and relationships compared to Rue’s tired exhaustion imminently displayed on her face make the viewer a little wary of what comes next. Her misunderstanding of a juvenile relationship with Jules is made clear when Ali confronts her about the fact that the two of them never had a real conversation about their feelings for one another. Rue’s distrust in the idea that things will eventually work themselves out stems from the fact that she feels disappointed by how her loved ones have left her so far. She eventually spirals into this negatively destructive way of thinking. She cognitively recognizes and justifies getting left behind because she thinks and believes she deserves terrible things in life. She lists examples of past deeds to further cement her argument. But Ali counters back with the simple statement that “Drugs change who you are as a person.” Regardless of her actions, he believes she is still a genuinely good individual while she argues that she is absolutely not. My favourite part of this whole conversation and the entire episode is the manner in which Ali questions Rue’s negative cognitive patterns. Her brain and mind essentially excuse bad behaviour by convincing her that she will never be a good person. Hence she can never forgive herself, and thus, she will continue to remain in this cyclical pattern. Our actions may be inexcusable, but they do not line up with our intentions. The inevitable human struggle is not whether we are fundamentally good or bad, evil, flawed or perfect, but if we are (and again, not to quote my other favourite show, The Good Place) trying to be a better person than we previously were. If we recognize that our actions are wrong and we are capable of experiencing remorse and regret for said actions, who's to say we are entirely incapable of change. This reductive polarizing, and dismissive way of thinking is characteristic of the brains of most people living with a mental illness. Our outside influences, such as drugs, can all be contributing external factors to how we conduct ourselves through life. Ali’s short bit about redemption and human beings deeming actions unforgivable forever can easily be paralleled to direct conversations we have online about “cancel culture”. The phenomenon of dismissing and reducing someone to their mistakes instead of allowing them to grow from them is a nice sentiment. Still, if we do not truly take accountability into action and witness no real changes or remorse, we can quickly get stuck in that cycle. Even if our beliefs do not line up with our actions, drugs can eventually change that. The belief system we hold so dearly, the convictions we strongly feel, can all be washed away by the simple use of drugs, Ali explains as he tells Rue about his family background. His experiences with abuse and his eventual hypocrisy as he plays the role he always feared in his family leave the viewer speechless. As we watch him tell his tale of regret, there is no woe or sorrow in admitting he is or isn’t a fundamentally good or bad person, just the thought of his attempt to change his ways that impacts the viewer.

As the viewer waits with bated breath to see what comes out of Rue’s mouth next, it is not a surprise (to me personally). Rue has no intention of staying sober because she has no intention of staying alive much longer. Ali asks her why she feels that way. She responds with her sentiments about the cruelty of the world. Ali understands. We truly are living in dark times, witnessing truly horrific events, and the fact that we even have the capacity to care any longer is indicative of our will to stay alive. It doesn’t make much sense when you think about it, but when you are so sad, so grief-stricken by the news, by the world’s turn of events, by the mere thought of witnessing more tragedy that you cannot bear to be alive any longer, it means that you are deeply invested. Invested in the way things will turn out even if you do not personally believe you want to participate or even be privy to being complicit in a system that does nothing but churn out pain, anger, and hatred. When I was at the lowest point in my life and attempted to end my own life, I was overwhelmed by the goings-on of the world. As emotionally drained as Rue is, a part of her still cares. She wants her sister and mother to know that she really tried. Just as I wanted and still want my parents and friends to be okay without me when I do eventually leave this earth. Of course, I care about what happens to them. The idea that suicide or suicidal ideation is inherently selfish is so contradictory to the reality of how suicidal individuals genuinely feel. It is the opposite. We care more than most, and we care to the point that it hurts to extend another moment of kindness to ourselves amid all the chaos and madness of the world. But still, we try. We do our best. Ali believes in Rue. He has faith in her.

The entire episode ends on a melancholy note as Rue and Ali depart the diner with Rue wistfully staring out the window as he drives her home. Ali loves his conversations with Rue and vice-versa. The fact that two people can be sitting at a diner alone on Christmas Eve talking about the beauty and cruelty of the world and everything ranging from politics to addiction to suicide to love to family and anything in between goes to show us that humans will always find a way. The fact that two people struggling and suffering from addiction can find their own way about and amidst the chaos of the world and still have these meaningful conversations about life and existence tells us that ultimately, Trouble Don’t Last Always.

[capricornus-rex]

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (10)

Chapter 10: A Home Away | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Cal Kestis x Fem! OC

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927​

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 | Previous: Part 9 | Next: Part 11 | Masterlist

11 of ?

The maintenance droids only needed an hour to prepare a dorm for Irele within the command ship. Not that she would need a personal room in every ship she boards, but it would help if she did in the near future. The human guards did not need to wait for Irele to come to, they barged into the cell, pulled the poor girl by the arm to stand her up and then drag her out of the prison block while she could barely use her own two feet.

Irele’s eyes have not adjusted to the changing tones and gradients of lights of each part of the ship she passes through. She thought she said the question “Where are we going?” when the guards only heard an incoherent groaning at the throat.

The way from the prison block to her new chambers was a ten-minute walk, if one marched faster it would have been lesser. Upon reaching their destination, only one escorted her into her room and sat her down on the bed—to which she immediately fell limp and ended up lying down instead. While she was out cold, a nanny droid entered her bedroom to tend to whatever it can in the quarters; it took its time, in fact, until the girl came to. The droid’s sensors picked up the spike from Irele’s heart rate from slow to normal, it briskly turned around.

“It is fortunate that you’ve come to, milady. The serum from the probe has completely worn off. Should you feel slight nausea, do not be alarmed for it is normal as well. I can administer some painkillers to you with your choice of pill or syrup.”

The droid is programmed to speak in Basic and had a rather lulling, female voice—perhaps the most appropriate if you are to manufacture and program a droid for nursing.

“Milady? What are you talking about? Who are you? What are you?”

“You are here as a ward under the strict order of Master Vader. I am HY-L33, Nanny Droid,” it brought its head into a bow, “At your service, Milady Irele.”

“Why call me Milady when I’m kept hostage here?” she sits up and examines the room.

“Oh, you are mistaken, Milady. You are Lord Vader’s ward,” HY-L33 corrects. “And I have been tasked to take care of your basic needs and whims, if need be.”

“What I need is to go home! I don’t like being holed up in anywhere!”

The nurse droid lowered its head slowly, it stayed like so for a moment; with a rather sympathetic voice, HY-L33 responds, “I’m sorry, but I am incapable of fulfilling that whim, milady. I would suggest that you make yourself comfortable in this new one.”

Irele sighed, knowing that she’s talking to a wall here. She gave herself time to calm down and breathe. She passed her hands across her face and sighed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be lashing out to you…” Irele inhaled. “What are you called again?”

“HY-L33, madam.”

Irele quietly parroted the name, “That’s a mouthful. How about I call you Haylee, is that alright?”

“If it proves to be more convenient for you, milady. Although personally, I do adore the name you’ve given me.”

Irele hummed as she managed a small smile, she hinted the chirp from the droid’s voice, relieved that she found some company out of the droid in this inorganic, cold room, she walked around to get a better feel of it now that the serum from the interrogation droid has worn off.

“Say, Haylee, do you know where we are?”

“We are aboard the command ship Anathema, the ship is within the Ulgoro system, and we are passing by the orbit of the planet Yelen.”

“How far are we from Tatooine?”

Haylee ran a quick scan from her processors, “We are approximately twenty-five parsecs away from the said Outer Rim planet.”

Irele breathed deeply, her heart sank, “That’s so far away…”

The droid’s photoreceptors picked up Irele’s increased heart rate and temperature. The girl was manifesting signs of anxiety: shivering hands, failing voice, and cold sweat.

“You are suffering from homesickness. Unfortunately, I do not have the appropriate medication for that, milady. Neither can I administer any medication for you. This is absolutely natural as you have been extracted from your real home to your current location.”

Irele took the deepest sigh and made a mantra.

Don’t lash out on the droid, you just screamed at it ten minutes ago.

She told this to herself mentally until she’s calmed herself down.

“Yeah, I am homesick. I left my family behind and…” she trailed off, realizing that the last people she was with were her friends. “My friends. They must be all worried sick about me.”

“You will be well taken care of here, Lady Irele.”

“Heh,” the girl huffed. “No need to be so formal. Just call me Irele.”

“As you wish… Mistress Irele.”

“Droids, gotta love ‘em…” she mumbled very quietly, knowing how acute droids’ hearing could be—depending on the model, that is.

–

Fortunately enough, Irele is indeed being taken care of.

Ever since she was moved to her own chambers in the Star Destroyer Anathema, she was thoroughly pampered—more or less—than anyone else in the ship, aside from Darth Vader. Never has she ever been well-fed in sixteen years! The serving portions were generous and they were quite tasty, but she had her moments where the food somewhat reminded her of home.

A uniformed officer enters Vader’s quarters to report of Irele’s adjustment to the new environment. Most of the officers feared that they’re speaking like a broken record, reporting the same thing to Vader every week—they had probably imagined it vexed him to be hearing the same thing over and over; it did them little comfort when adding their own personal observations of her such as asking for seconds with her food and interacting with the nanny droid, since she’s still shy and cautious from everyone else on board.Additionally, she was not yet allowed to wander off alone beyond her room. So, by all means, she is pretty much a hostage still—a rather pampered one, at the very least.

“Has she stopped her erratic behavior?”

“Fortunately so, Lord Vader, she has. Perhaps about a week and a half since her extraction, she had become somewhat… docile.”

Vader paused. He had presumed it was the effects of the interrogator droid’s syringe, but surely during the time the nanny droid was tending to the girl, the substance has flushed out since. Realizing that he truly knows nothing of what kind of person Irele is—compared from his earliest reference of her—he sighs with a quiet frustration under his mask.

“Very well. We are right on schedule. Carry on, captain.”

“Yes sir,” the captain bowed and dismissed himself militarily. His true posture showed when he rejoined his companion who had been waiting for him by the door. He hissed, “I didn’t conscript myself to the Imperial Fleet to be a babysitter!”

“Be more frustrated when Lord Vader does appoint you the official babysitter of the girl.”

“She’s quite a handful, don’t you think so?”

“Temperamental, to say the least,”

Only Vader and the droid, HY-L33, know what’s in store for Irele. Very soon, the plans for her life under the Empire’s wing—unknowingly under her brother’s care, or the walking shell of him perhaps—will be put into play.

For many weeks, HY-L33 patiently watched over Irele—especially in the medical aspect—and a mandate was programmed into her that once a diagnosis of the teenager would show optimum by the end of three weeks since her extraction from Tatooine, Irele would be considered physically eligible and be subjected to training. Eventually, HY-L33 was the only companion she has ever had in this ship since day one; so in exchange for medical knowledge and advice from HY-L33, Irele repays it with stories from her homeworld of Tatooine, but knowing that the droid is under Imperial property, she was cautious of what she ought to say, and rather told her adventures she had done on her own or with a friend instead of her family life.

“It seems as though your rigorous lifestyle has contributed to your increased stamina throughout your developmental stage.” HYL-33 commented once while listening to Irele recall one job she did where she would deliver goods door-to-door across the town of Mos Espa.

“Yeah well, I had to work. Because if I didn’t work, that just meant, I’ll be sleeping hungry—or if I’m lucky, with a half-full stomach.”

HY-L33, being the medical nanny droid that she is, went on to lecture Irele that it was ill-advised to sleep on an empty stomach for it will cause ulcers. The girl politely listened and heeded the advice, until she calmed down the droid that she had been fine for the rest of the time she was growing up.

She had only been staying for a week and a half. HY-L33’s sensors indicate a lesser trace of homesickness and anxiety within Irele, her body mass index has not changed drastically at all since her food intake was increased rather than imposing an eating strike—a few of HY-L33’s references cite that most human teenagers are more rebellious, especially when it comes to being fed after being thrown into a stressful situation. However, this was not the case with Irele, which made the nurse droid’s circuits cooler.

Eventually, the three weeks were over. Irele noticed HY-L33 seeming to be in full preparation. She did not mind this, but kept a close eye, until she could find the right timing to ask. After lunch, Irele went to the bath by rote, and quickly dressed herself in a dark gray shirt, black pants, and low boots.

Irele could truly sense something different in their routine.

“Haylee?”

“Yes, Miss Irele?”

“Is there something new added into the routine?”

“Yes, Miss Irele, we are about to perform a full health assessment on you. Please follow me and I will escort you to the medical ward.”

This was the first time Irele had been outside of her bedroom. For three weeks, she had been holed up in that metal room with no one and nothing else but HY-L33��to which she had grown fond of anyway—and then she finally comes out for a medical check-up.

Along the way, she could not look into the eyes of the crew, although she perfectly blended in with her gray and black clothes. She was nervous and afraid of what they’re thinking of her—because she felt like she knows what they’re saying about her, it’s a feeling that she can’t explain but it still manifests in her. Eager to avoid the stares and attention, Irele walked directly behind HY-L33 until they got to the said medical ward.

When they got there, the interior of the medical ward was a little bit brighter than most of the rooms in the ship. The walls were still metal, of course, but it was a cooler shade of gray which somewhat eased the people who are admitted and confined here—instead of the intimidating dark grays and blacks on other parts of the ship. At the center of operations was a 2-1B surgical droid stationed by a medical bed; it was approached by HY-L33 and Irele, when the droid’s photoreceptors saw the girl’s face, a deep male tone started speaking in a monotonous, continuous fashion.

“Irele Skywalker, human female, age is sixteen standard years, height stands at five feet and three inches…”

“Okay, okay, I think we got enough of my vitals already!” Irele interrupted.

“Were you briefed of your purpose here?”

Irele made a side-eyed glance at HY-L33, who didn’t move at all, “I was only told I was getting a check-up.”

“Correct.”

The surgical droid cleared out what HY-L33 failed to when they were still in the bedroom. It started with the physical examination—taking down her age, height, and weight, until it pored into analyzing the fluid levels and vitals of her organs to see if they were normal. It was all strange for little Irele, but she held up and did as she was told. She wasn’t getting hurt by the droids anyway, save the one pinprick that they had to do in order to conduct a blood test.

From Vader’s chamber, he was receiving real-time transmissions of the medical ward’s database. Whatever diagnosis the droids encode into the database under Irele’s profile, Vader saw it all firsthand—every revision, every new entry, every number.

Midichlorian count: 20,598.

Seeing this number and then recalling his impression on Irele baffled Darth Vader.

This child has lived sixteen years in a backwater planet, with a high midichlorian count… and yet her sensitivity is dormant.

[cruelfeline]

This Got Long and I am Sorry

Well, the anti in the Hordak tag deleted their post, which is a huge bummer because it means no fun games for me. But! I have been looking forward to addressing the points in that post all day, and I won’t give up my chance to talk ad nauseam about Hordak. Because y’all know that I love to talk about Hordak.

also I saved the post as a draft prior to it getting deleted so I actually have the whole thing hahaha

However: in order to prevent the original poster from getting harassed for said post, I’m just going to address points via my own summary. Safer that way! So, here we go: addressing some posited reasons that Catra and Hordak are not comparable, plus some claims about why Hordak can’t be treated with the same kindness many like to treat Catra with. 

1. Hordak being a clone of a dictator/not being biologically similar to Catra et. al, acting as he does because of this biology as a clone.

This portion of that post was a little odd because I don’t really understand what the argument was. Perhaps the idea that Hordak literally cannot be anything different than his progenitor due to... cloning science? I’m not sure.

But assuming that that was the intended argument: being a clone essentially means having the same DNA as someone else. That’s all. It does not mean that you are the exact same person (ask some identical twins if they are the same exact person as their sibling). The environment one is raised in, along with epigenetics (changes in individuals due to gene expression rather than DNA), provides infinite variations between individuals that might share the same DNA. So this argument is a little... nonsensical?

Now, I can definitely buy that some of Hordak’s morality might be biology-based; that is a legitimate argument. See this post regarding why an individual like Hordak may not have issues raising children for his army, for example. Mind you, I don’t really see this as an argument in support of him just being an evil, irredeemable bastard; rather, I look at it as an argument against “natural evil” and more in favor of different biological, cultural, and environmental factors creating an alien morality.

2. Hordak created a social system that resulted in all sorts of abuses being visited upon children. He viewed said children as disposable materials for his war.

...yeah, actually, just go to this post again. Honestly, I have zero expectation for Hordak to have any sort of special tenderness towards children. I don’t expect a clone from a society of clones to value children, not because he’s pure evil, but because he comes from a world where children aren’t a thing. Why would he value them?

A creature whose life is so different from ours as to give it a different sense of morals isn’t necessarily evil, even if they do things that we look upon as evil via our morality. Morality is not a universal constant; our evil may be meaningless to an alien, whereas our good might be horrifying to them. It all depends on the creature.

And as far as seeing children as disposable material for war: well, that follows, doesn’t it? Because after all, Hordak is also disposable material for war. Material that was actually disposed of.

3. Hordak was ready to murder Catra for disobeying orders; he’s likely murdered other high ranking officers for the same.

There is no evidence that Hordak has personally murdered anyone, so we’re just going to pass on that. One may speculate all one wants, but unless Hordak presents me with a neatly-written list of all the poor souls he’s slain, I don’t have much to say about this.

However, regarding him being ready to kill Catra: this is a complex situation because it was not as simple as “Catra disobeyed, so she must die.” Catra did not just disobey Hordak; she lied to him. He gave her a chance to come clean, to be trustworthy and loyal, to own up to a mistake, and she lied to him.

This is an issue for a couple of reasons: first, Hordak appears to have a thing about lies. He has a thing about people deceiving him (potentially because, where he comes from, he is truly incapable of lying), about not knowing what people around him are planning. Personally, I think that this is at least somewhat rooted in self-defense: he is physically weak without armor and prone to emotional manipulation by anyone who knows anything remotely intimate about him. Catra proves this point by manipulating the bejeezus out of him during season four, right after showing him that she can kill him anytime she likes by disarming him via crystal-grab. If one of his subordinates is prone to deceiving him, he needs to get rid of that subordinate to protect himself. 

Second, when Catra loses Shadow Weaver, she truly does endanger the whole Horde. Like, Shadow Weaver literally helps the Princesses infiltrate during season three. That is a thing that happens. Hordak isn’t just pulling dumb moments of insubordination from thin air; he elects to eliminate Catra because she has done something that proves to be actually detrimental to the Horde in a serious way.

I don’t mean to say that Hordak is morally correct in sentencing Catra to death, first via Beast Island, then via Crimson waste; what I mean to say is that he enacts an extremely dramatic punishment not due to simple disobedience, but due to Catra being legitimately dangerous to his life and the life of the Horde. It’s still not “good,” but it’s not the same as killing Catra for mouthing off. It’s not some grand confirmation of irredeemable evil; it’s not that simple.

4. Catra is an abused child who has been broken physically, emotionally, and psychologically since she was an infant; Hordak, on the other hand, has no background in abuse. The only bad that has happened to him is being called a defect and sent out to fight and die, which didn’t really matter because he was a clone anyway.

This… this is a sentiment some antis hold that is honestly disturbing to me.

I won’t touch on the Catra portion; all of that is true.

But Hordak… I cannot comprehend how some people don’t seem to understand the true horror of Hordak’s situation. As far as we currently know, as of season four, Hordak was manufactured to be a tool of war. He was never meant to be his own person, despite clearly having the psyche of one. He didn’t even have, couldn’t have, his own name. He was born into this purpose with no way out, no hope for any choice of his own. For pity’s sake, he has a port in the back of his neck that allows him to be erased without a moment’s notice. That is a piece of hardware someone put in him to completely control him against his will. It is a level of bodily autonomy violation suffered by no one else on this show. 

Hordak has essentially no personal self-esteem and no ability to self-validate outside of his identity as Prime’s clone. His entire concept of self-worth is based upon being useful to Prime, to the point that he doesn’t seem to understand that his being thrown away for getting sick is not only not his fault, but morally abhorrent. He is so emotionally dependent on his Brother that, despite severe risk to his own life, he seeks to return to him rather than simply taking Etheria for himself (which is what he would have done if he simply wanted to be a ruler). He needs Prime’s validation, Prime’s approval, that badly. 

And he tries to obtain that approval despite being absolutely terrified of Prime, despite it being very clear to us that there is no way that Prime will ever give it as long as Hordak remains his own self. Despite all of that, Hordak needs it because he was manufactured and programmed and conditioned to worship this terrible creature, and he simply cannot grasp a different way to live. He’s too emotionally sick.

I’m not sure how someone can look at this character and not see what has happened to him, what is happening to him, as abuse. 

5. Hordak only starts to care about anything else when Entrapta enters his life, and he only does so because she validates him; even then, it takes a long time.

This is a perplexing concept to me because… well, yes? Of course he only starts to see things differently when he bonds with Entrapta? Obviously?

Until then, he never had anyone suggest to him that he could be a worthwhile person without having some sort of practical use. He never had a companion to share his vulnerabilities with. He only had his sick ties to Prime.

Perhaps this means to suggest that Hordak should have started building a new life without the help he received from Entrapta? As if people suffering from mental illness and severe emotional pain should just be able to lift themselves up with zero support and fix their whole lives in a snap.

Ailing people tend to need other people’s support to get through their troubles. Hordak not being able to see new possibilities for his life without Entrapta’s help doesn’t say anything negative about him; all it says is that he needed someone’s support to start healing. Just as the overwhelming majority of people do.

6. Catra wants to be in charge so that others can’t hurt her. Hordak wants to be in charge just so he can “be on top,” and he only regrets what occurs with Prime because it means he is no longer dominant.

Hordak as a warlord is actually a very interesting thing to look at. He fails to act in the way that many enthusiastic, traditional warlord characters do, to the point that he seems less into the ruling and more into the obtainment of Prime’s esteem via conquering a planet to prove his worth. Which is, y’know, what’s happening: Hordak doesn’t care about ruling Etheria. He cares about conquering it so he can present it to Prime and prove that he deserves to live. The full post about that is right here.

If Hordak really cared about ruling something, he would have never bothered wasting all of that time building a portal to get in contact with Prime. He would have focused all of his efforts on conquering Etheria and left it at that. His actions only make sense when one understands that he doesn’t actually care about being a tyrannical lord; he cares about showing his Brother that he’s a good boy.

7. Catra feels regret for her actions; Hordak does not. Catra sees herself as an irredeemable bad person and hates herself. Hordak doesn’t believe he needs to be redeemed and just wants to control everything.

Again, I won’t touch Catra here, because that assessment is valid.

Hordak, however: Hordak literally thinks so little of himself that he believes it his own job to prove to his brother that he shouldn’t have been tossed aside to die. He doesn’t see this as a moral failing on Prime’s part. He doesn’t see it as wrong, that he was thrown away because he got sick. He sees it as a problem that it is his responsibility to fix.

Hordak admits to Entrapta that he has doubts: perhaps Prime was right. Perhaps he, Hordak, is a failure. Perhaps it was okay to send him out to die.

Hordak believes Catra’s lies about Entrapta’s “betrayal” because, Twitter Word of God, he views himself as undeserving of friendship.

Whether Hordak believes himself needing redemption is beside the point: the core of Hordak’s story and character arc has nothing to do with being a morally good person. It has to do with learning, understanding, and internalizing that he has his own value beyond what Horde Prime grants him. It has to do with accepting himself as he is, triumphs and shortcomings alike. It has to do with realizing that he has a right to live with or without Prime’s say-so. 

Moral redemption has nothing to do with it because before Hordak has any hope of learning to respect the rights of others, he has to learn to fight for his own.

Am I done? I think I’m done.

Well. Regrettably, I had to summarize this, so the original poster’s words are not verbatim intact, but I think I got the sense of them! Also regrettably, they will likely not see or respond to this, so that chance for active dialogue is gone. But anyone else can respond if they like, including any antis lurking about the tag. Well; if you can slog through this whole thing!

Anyway, in conclusion: Hordak is a sad bastard man. He has just as many painful personal problems as Catra and will forever have all of my sympathy and kindness because I have decided that he deserves it. So there.

[80s-roger]

affair pt3 - Dad!Roger x Fem!Reader

click to one of those if you wanna check:

masterlist ~ part one ~ part two

warnings: none I guess

words: 2,342

note: Sorry for waiting so long! My PC had a problem and now I'm on my phone so there's not the 'keep reading' option! A request is coming soon!

------------ on with the story, there will be part 4!------------

So after your agreement with him getting back with you legally, costed your mental health which is always unstable and never in good condition. You just have him at your house spending time with your only daughter, whom struggled to bring in this world and he knows it, however, he doesn't really care anymore about it, let alone about you. He just apologised to get back to Audrey. He loves her more than anything, you could never doubt it. He doesn't love you but her and that somehow is something.

He's been around you for almost seven months and to have the facts stated, you did sleep together. That was something you were craving for. You wanted to feel his body on you and his kisses on your skin. But there was something missing. You missed a feeling which wasn't mutual. There wasn't any love from him. You would believe he was just using you for pleasure. But then, you would say he's cheating on you again with groupies. After their new album, he was out there promoting the album with Brian. It was unknown to you why Freddie didn't follow. What wasn't unknown to you, was Roger sleeping with groupies in the meanwhile.

It felt good having his presence at this big house but not as good as it was in the past before Audrey was born. He was so in love with you. You've spent almost a decade struggling with your emotions and the instability of them.

After him coming home again, you both had sex four or five months later. It took you a while to get used to his presence again, let alone let him see your soul and your body. You low-key believed he would never ever want to have a bone zone with you after the divorce and after the withdrawal. But now, things got much worse. Your circle has delayed for three months and you had to find out if there was a pregnancy on the way. You were assured after taking the pregnancy test which was positive and it was the last thing you wanted at the moment. You wouldn't be able to bring it up with love and optimism. Your man didn't love you and he didn't know about it. You had to stop that pregnancy even though you were possibly in the third month.

You were in the kitchen, talking to your gynaecologist but you didn't hear Roger coming home after taking Audrey at the kindergarten.

"I can't keep it, I have to stop the pregnancy." You said as the lump on your throat got in the way. It would definitely be a blond beautiful kid with blue eyes. Roger's genes are so strong and it's obvious to Audrey.

"Do you know exactly the month or week you currently are?"

"Must be around twelve weeks. Please tell me something can happen." you were unapologetically intolerant about it. You weren't into making a second child with Roger. He doesn't even love you, stupid girl.

"Please, pay us a visit, it can't be said via telephone... We will see what we can do."

You made the appointment for the day after tomorrow, wishing the abortion would work, without jeopardizing your life.

"What the hell is going on here?" Roger invaded in the kitchen, scaring the crap out of you.

"Jesus, Roger!" you looked at him frightened. "Were you eavesdropping?" you asked at the same tone.

"I came to my home and I heard you talk about a pregnancy wanting to be stopped. I think this has to be discussed with me too." Roger was legit serious, he even blocked the door so you wouldn't leave.

"This has nothing to do with you." you cold-heartedly said, trying to leave the kitchen but he wouldn't let you.

"I think I helped with the fertilization, didn't I?" he ironically asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I bet you didn't use protection so you'd leave a baby inside me and then you'd never get the hell out of here." him doing it on purpose and you not realising it, stressed you just at the thought of it.

"What makes you think of that? You are so desperate for me." He was so unbothered.

"You're so up to yourself Roger, you're only here because of Audrey. Just because I accepted your apology doesn't mean I trust you again." you defended yourself.

"Audrey is my world and I don't give a shit if you trust me or not, but you're keeping this child." he sounded like he was forcing you.

"You're not going to tell me what to do, this is my body and I make the rules!" you yelled.

"Make the rules when the baby is not inside you!" He yelled back and left the kitchen. "I'm the father of it and you're not doing any abortion." for a moment you hoped he was telling this just because he was afraid it would go unsuccessful and then it would harm you too. Was he worried about you? No, if he was, he wouldn't talk to you this way.

"I will make abortion and you wanna know why?" you forcefully asked ready to attack. "Why?" he questioned, "Because you don't love me, you don't care about me and I had to withdraw our divorce because Audrey wanted your presence and so did you." you were so heartbroken, your mental health was above zero like it's always been.

"So you did me a favour?" he asked.

"Consider it a favour, yeah..." You walked outside, going upstairs and he was following you.

"So you still think I don't love you?" he asked as you were tidying Audrey's room.

"I am sure about it," you answered without looking him.

"If I didn't love you, I wouldn't even attempt sleeping on the same bed with you, let alone have sex. I wouldn't even make the effort talking to you right now. Just because I'm not saying it and you're not hearing it often, doesn't mean I don't love you, y/n." you heard his voice lowering as his speech was coming to an end.

"You cheat on me Roger." you exhaled, finally looking at him devastated. "I've lost my sleep with these thoughts. I've lost my piece since we started dating eight years ago." you shook your head frustrated with your thoughts.

"Then why did you keep up with me from the beginning?" he asked with his arms crossed.

"Because I was blindly in love with you, I didn't care. But look at me now. A second child that's undesirable. I'm not happy, Roger!" you emphasized your last words and he seemed broken.

"I'm sorry what you're going through, but we have to stick together for our kids' sake." he came closer to you, placing your fingers around his.

"No, don't do this. You're only making it worse. You make me feel defeated again." you pulled away at his touch. You were dying for it, but you had to be fully strong.

"So now you are avoiding me? You literally whined before, for not being affectionate towards you." his face characteristics were tough.

"Listen Roger, I only blame myself for loving you and letting you home again! I'm only doing it for our daughter!" you shouted and left the room and he was following you. Voices, still loud.

"Don't pretend like you don't value my presence in this goddamn house!" you felt him moving his hands frantically in the air as you were walking down the stairs. "You're too desperate and depended on me, you make me believe you set it all up."

"Aren't you tired?" you looked back at him.

"Tired of what?" he asked confused.

"Reminding me of how hard I fell for you? How hard it was accepting all these things the press said about you? You cheating on me all this time when I was home raising our child? Ain't what I did enough?" you asked disappointed. He didn't talk neither walk. He was just there standing and watching you getting pale in seconds.

"Y/n, you alright?" he asked concerned, but you couldn't answer. Your sight was getting blurry and his voice was muting.

"I... I think I'm gonna pass out." you hermetically closed your eyes and lost your balance at the stairs. Holding yourself didn't assist.

You fell from the stairs and you can clearly remember your back and head aching from the fall and Roger ran towards you, trying to help you gain your consciousness.

"Y/n! Y/n please, hey, wake up!" he searched for a steady pulse at your wrists but it was unsteady and low. "No, no, don't do this to me, please, y/n! If you listen to me, just move your lips or say something, just do something!" you could hear him speaking fast and nervously to you but you couldn't move. But you could moan or something. All you could do was just a sound with your mouth since you felt really incapable of doing anything else. "We're rushing to the hospital babe!" he tried picking you up to his arms and ran to his car.

You lost your senses throughout the ride to the hospital. The next thing you could remember was hearing him cry. Flashbacks of you going to the hospital regularly for exams during your entire pregnancy due to the early difficulties hit him like a truck. "I can't lose you too." he whimpered next to you as you attempted opening your eyes. Too?

"Has she awoke yet?" you heard a doctor speaking.

"N- no, she hasn't." A frightened Roger could be heard to you while his hand didn't leave yours.

"Maybe the drug was too strong to handle." you could hear them but not respond.

"How's the baby? Did you check the fetus?"

"It's fine... Maybe the lady felt dizzy and she just fainted. Maybe her hematocrit is low, her exams will show it soon. Is there any event that recently happened and it's causing her mental and physical pain?" Doctor asked interested about your health and you really wondered what would Roger say. He's the reason why your health is shit.

"Um she has some emotional instabilities..." his touch distanced from your skin.

"It could be some kind of depression during her pregnancy. Do you have another child?"

"A daughter, she's six."

"Maybe she was going through postpartum depression, there's no other explanation... And she still has that reflex of it." The doctor said and after five minutes of the talk he left and Roger stayed with you.

You opened your eyes after half an hour and you saw Roger's head laying to your bed while his hand grabbed yours like he's protecting you. "Rog..." you quietly said and his head popped up immediately, looking at you scared.

"Babe, you alright?" he asked concerned.

"Yeah, what happened to me, did they tell you?" you asked, itching your head.

"It's probably due to some kind of depression... Did you got after Audrey's birth?" he asked.

"Postpartum depression? Yes, but you didn't know," you told him without hesitating about insulting his ego.

"How didn't I know about it? It's about you," he asked confused.

"Anything about me is unimportant to you," you stated at the door and you could feel him getting angry with your words.

"I'm trying to help right now, but you don't help yourself."

"You were here when your first kid was born but not around during her bring up. You were touring and promoting and I was here, diagnosed with postpartum depression while you were out there ch-"

"Cheating on you, I know. I did cheat on you. But stop bringing this up all the time. Now I'm here." he attempted calming you down.

"Yeah, but your ego still over the heavens."

"Y/n, stop this I'm only doing it for the kids." his tone got higher.

"The next time, make sure you're doing this for me too because I am the one who struggles every second of the day, neither is Audrey nor this!" You shouted pointing at your stomach.

"Y/n you know I have no chill but right now, I'd have left the room. I could have let you there on the floor you know!" he tried to save himself, you attacked him with words.

"Do I own you a thank you for that?" you mocked him and he was furious by now.

"Jesus, y/n stop it!!" he shouted and you finally shut your mouth. You crossed the line even under your condition. He sat back at his chair not saying a word again.

"Whatever happens, I want you to know that I don't want this child," you said out of the blue.

"Why are you saying that?" he asked confused.

"I'm just saying." you turned your body opposite him, avoiding any contact.

"Don't you dare commit suicide. You've attempted it in the past, don't fucking do it. You have a daughter." his voice was threatening.

"She loves you, what's the point." you murmured but he heard it.

"Y/n your depression is really transmitting, I can't help you if you can't help yourself at first. If you attempt it, Audrey is done." he tried to turn you from his side but you moved your body as a sign of leaving me alone.

"Just let me give birth to this kid and let me die, I can't be like this anymore." you whimpered. Your depression has been around for a decade. Could have been more if your family issues count.

"Don't say that. Audrey needs you. I need you." his last words sounded like begging.

"You'll find another groupie, you won't need me as you did during our divorce or even before that." your cold voice hit him again.

"Get some rest, I've had enough of you." he left the room without saying anything else and you were finally ready to let your tears fall down. You struggled to keep them for minutes. Now it's time to cry without hesitation.

taglist: @bohemiansweede @funitrog

[flamingo-writes]

Good/Bad News — Sanji X Reader

Summary: What originally were good news, turned out to be bad. Sanji was forcing himself to turn his back on everyone he loved, including you. And those news felt like a spear through his heart. As much  as he wished to turn back, he could never undo the pain he did to you. 

Word count: 3.2 K

A/N: This takes place at both the beginning and the ending of Whole Cake Island. Long fragments in italics are flashbacks. I literally wrote this after reading a very angsty fic and I needed to let out those feelings of angst through writing more angst. Adding to the never ending chain of angst. But come on, who doesn’t like to feel pain by reading about your favourite characters? There’s a bit of fluff at the end to help soothe the pain. 

Warnings: angst, swearing, abusive language.

There was something special in the way Sanji looked at you. It went without saying. An adoration, a sweet fascination sparked in his eyes when he saw you. 

For such a flirty guy, his interest in other women vanished when you were close to him. So, as much of a flirt he was, you were never really worried about Sanji cheating on you. You knew for a fact that it was only you who owned the entirety of his heart and soul. 

And the feeling was mutual. Even though you weren't precisely flirty, like Sanji, you reflected in your eyes the same look he gave you. You looked at him with that same unconditional love, an endless,melting love flooded through you whenever you saw him. 

However, there was something very different in his eyes now. After beating Luffy, you felt your heart begin to shatter. Little by little. Seeing Luffy on the ground, unconscious, hurt like very few things you’d lived. Your captain's pain became yours as well. Stronger that the physical wounds, the new gap in your chest consumed you. Like poison invading your body, clouding you mind as you tried to convince yourself what you just saw wasn't real. However, your body, shaking in both disappointment and anger said otherwise. Torn between your guttural burning feelings, and your blinded consciousness. 

"Luffy!" Nami cried as you walked towards Sanji, who's eyes suddenly were unrecognisable. 

"Sanji, I have to talk to you" You growled, your voice lower than ever.

The gentle eyes you loved so much were gone. Replaced by cold hollow eyes. And yet, something at the back of them shone. Something you could very well identify. Pain. The quick glance of sorrow invading his eyes made you feel afraid. Afraid of whatever this might unchain. 

Sanji could not stand the pain in your eyes. Suddenly, afraid of the wound he’d just caused in your trust, and anger bleeding out of it. He turned around, ready to head back when you called his name. Feeling a rather uncomfortable lump grew in his throat when your voice broke calling his name. A voice that would pronounce his name in so many different sweet ways, now turned bitter and sour. 

Swallowing his pain, he shut his eyes closed reminding himself everything that was at stake. His biological family, his actual family, and Zeff.  He needed to keep himself under control. Faking, pretending to be the Vinsmoke he certainly wasn't. Pretending to be the cold hearted warrior his father had so cleverly designed. A human on the outside, incapable of feeling empathy for others. He had to play the part of exactly everything Sanji was not. 

He turned around, and that set of empty eyes was back. Looking at you like he had never before. You breathed in deeply, keeping yourself from breaking down in tears. If Sanji was going to be acting this way, so were you. Painfully, biting your tongue to the point of tasting blood made you regain the strength you needed to face whoever he was now. He was not your Sanji, not even close. As much as those two looked alike. 

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now…" you said, your voice serious and monotonous. 

"I don't have to hear anything from you, pirate…" He said contemptuously, his eyes scanning you in the most uninterested way. 

"Back in Dressrosa, I was hoping to get the chance to talk to you. But you disappeared along with the others" You began, completely ignoring him, and making him curse under his breath. 

Dammit, [Name], you’re making this harder, he thought. 

"Didn't you hear what I said, you dumb vulgar woman?" He barked turning around, however, you kept talking, knowing he was listening.

"Too bad we had to see each other under this circumstances, I had news you certainly would've loved..." 

His mind stopped for a bit, now curious for what you had to say. The more your word played in his head, the more terrified he felt.  

"...but, because of this mess, I doubt this news will make you happy like they would've originally have done"

"What makes you think I care for what you have to say?" Hissing he quickly looked at you over his shoulder, keeping his hands inside his pockets.

"I'm pregnant, Sanji" You finally said in a low voice, so only Sanji could hear you. 

Sanji's heart broke. Shattered into a million pieces. God, not only he was turning his back to his friends, especially to you. He was also turning his back on his chance of starting a family of his own. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of starting a family with you. It was in his plans after all, once you all found the One Piece, and after he found the All Blue. He liked to fantasize about it; a family. A real family, not like whatever the Vinsmokes were supposed to be. And it made sense, you’d been acting weird since you arrived to Punk Hazard. 

Something he’d been wanting, dreaming of for a while, it was right before him, but he would never be able to reach it now.

What Sanji didn’t know was that, once Doflamingo was defeated, Law noticed you were looking pale. And after talking to him, he popped a question. You remembered his low voice echoing, your heart stopping and the world spinning quicker. 

“Oi, [Name]-ya, did you hear me?” Law raised his voice, staring at you, as all tthe pieces in your head came together.

“I-I...yes…” You sighed breathless with fear.

“So?”

“Now that you mention it…” You sighed. “My period is one week late...and I’ve had the weirdest cravings…” Law had ah ard time listening to what you were saying, your voice couldn’t be lower.

“Does Chopper-ya know?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I was going to tell Chopper after all of this ended” For the first time you made eye contact with the surgeon.

“When we’re back at your ship, tell him to run some blood test” He said before standing up and leaving.

On your way to Zou, you felt how time froze. You were both happy and terrified. You wanted to tell Sanji so bad. You needed to tell him. It was certainly the worst timing, but maybe you two could figure something out, the entire crew could help you guys out. However, once you made it to the moving island, Sanji was gone. 

“And you expect me to believe that bulshit?” Sanji growled. “Do you want to make me believe I am the father?” As soon as he spoke, he regretted what he’d said. He didn’t even have to turn around to picture your face. He knew he’d crossed the line. Hinting that you were some sort of slut? Low blow.  “[Name]” He whispered coldly, hoping that it’d make everything better.. “Don’t tell anyone that you’re pregnant with my child” His words low enough for you to hear, but also sharp enough to pierce your heart. 

Right after feeling how your heart stopped the moment Sanji started talking, you then got angrier than ever at that moment. Not realising the intention in which Sanji mean his last words. Forgetting completely about the fact that he had just called you both promiscuous and a liar. You interpreted his words in a selfish way in which his reputation could be destroyed if someone found out the Prince of Germa 66 had a bastard child with a pirate. However, Sanji meant those words to keep the child’s identity a secret, and keep everyone safe. But you wouldn’t realise it. 

“I hope you enjoy your life as a prince” You purred, and Sanji still turning his back at you, could not decipher your voice tone, it was monotonous. “And I hope you enjoy your wedding, and your new wife. Really, I hope you live a happy life” The lack of emotion in your voice killed him.

What hurt him the most was how despite your endless anger, you still meant every word you said. You were pissed at him, but still loved him enough to wish him a happy life. 

Your ever present kindness even though how unfair the situation could be, was Sanji’s favourite trait of you. And right now, that same kindness he loved so much was tearing him apart painfully. 

His heart squeezing painfully as he walked back to the carriage. He wished he could turn around and kiss you. Turn around and hold you. Tell you how much he loved you, and how he happy was at the thought of having a child with the love of his life. In his head, the entire scenario played, showing him what he could have, if only he wasn’t such a coward. 

A coward. As much as he knew he could break free from it all if he put his mind to it, the fear blocked his mind. So much depended on him marrying Pudding. The golden bracelets weighed him down. Tying him like a desperate dog to an abusive owner. As every step tore the both of you apart. he felt the distance weight him down as well. Trying his best to keep his tears, he groaned painfully. 

"Thank you for waiting" he growled lowly, trying to mask his pain. "We can leave now" 

~

Whole Cake Island had been by far, the worst experience ever. The entire time you felt the adrenaline kicking in, followed by the desire to survive. And you knew this wasn't healthy at all at your current condition. You knew coming here was a mistake, you should’ve probably listened to your crew when you decided to go with Luffy to save Sanji.. 

"[Name], you shouldn't go to Whole Cake Island" Chopper said, his voice firm. 

"He's right, [Name]-ya" Law added "The less stressed you are, the better" 

"I have to go” You growled “We're talking about Sanji, If you really want to stop me, you'll have to kill me" 

"Why are you guys suggesting that [Name] stays?" Nami asked. 

"She could have a miscarige" Law said coldly, his eyes matching his voice.

"I will be fine" 

"[Name] will be coming with us. I will protect the both of them" Luffy said standing next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. "We'll have a better chance of bringing Sanji quickly if she's with us" 

"Strawhat-ya, I want you to understand how dangerous this is. If something happens to her, and she has a miscarige, she'll not only lose the child, but her life will.be in danger as well" The way the both of them exchanged stares was almost intimidating. However, Luffy’s smile grew across his face. 

"Nothing will happen to [Name]. I will protect her with my life" Textbook Luffy, putting his life on the line, that confident smile framing his face perfectly. 

"Luffy…" You whispered, your eyes getting teary.

"Can you imagine having a baby as a nakama? I wonder how that'll be" Luffy’s squinted, his smile now turning warm and welcoming.

His gentle smile always soothed you whenever you felt nervous or afraid. Luffy wasn't your best friend for no reason. As oblivious as he could be, he knew how to calm your nerves. Whenever something bothered you, it only took that smile to make you feel like you could breathe again.

And right now, you needed that smile more than ever. Cuddled up in the infirmary, you kept thinking of both Luffy and Sanji. The crew was waiting for them in the Sunny. As soon as those two stepped on the ship, you all were going to flee the island.

After Chopper gave you a quick examination, and everything turned to be alright, you started crying. The little reindeer didn't  blame you for crying. Everything was too overwhelming. Everything about this island had been so terribly overwhelming, adding the fact that your hormones were all over the place.

You asked Chopper to leave you alone. What you needed right now was being able to cry your eyes out, alone.

"[Name], if you need something, feel free to call me, okay?" 

"Thank you, Chopper" Your voice shook lightly as Chopper closed the door behind him. 

And as soon as you heard the door close, it seemed like it was the green light to endless tears. Your pain streaming down your face. 

Right now you wished for either Sanji or Luffy to walk inside and hug you. A real tight hug. However, for the next several minutes you kept silently sobbing, the pain in your chest not getting any better. A consuming loneliness kept feeding to the gap in your chest, keeping the tears falling endlessly from your eyes. At least until you fell asleep.

By the time Sanji and Luffy made back to the Sunny, Luffy was deeply asleep. Without disturbing him much, Sanji placed him on the grass, where he seemed to sleep comfortably. At once, his eyes scanned the ship, looking at each and everyone in the ship. Brook, Nami, Chopper, Jimbei…but not you. You were not there with everyone else. 

“Wheres [Name]?” Sanji asked getting more and more worried by the second.

“In the infirmary” Chopper answered. 

“Is she alright?” His voice came out louder than he intended, giving away his concern.

“Yes. The both of them. She asked me to leave her alone" Chopper exchanged stares with Sanji, who was breathing heavily.

“Thanks, be right back” He said taking long steps towards the infirmary door. 

He could feel his heart sinking in his chest. He hadn’t talked to you, or seen you since that awful encounter when he fought Luffy. Sanji was aware he had hurt you badly. Very, very badly. He had hurt himself in the process as well. Having to act so careless to such big news, painfully turning his back towards you, keeping a straight voice, and his burning tears from falling. The lump on his throat hurt as much as his shattered heart.

Once he reached the door, he held the door knob and froze. What was he going to say? He didn’t think this through. He was going to apologise, that was for sure. But, how? How exactly was he supposed to ask for forgiveness? 

I’m sorry, [Name], I had to keep an act for my family…

I had these explosive bracelets, you see I had to—

It was the only way…

Lame. The more he thought about it, the lamer and more pathetic the excuses became. But that was the problem. They were all excuses, weren’t they? Swallowing the lump on his throat, he wished for his mind to shut up. All of those thoughts were suffocating him, making him wish to either turn back in time before all of this mess happened, or fast forward to the time after he apologised regardless of the outcome. 

Once he finished swallowing his poor mental apologies, and gathered the strength to actually push the door open,he did it slowly. The room dark and silent. The door opening so slowly it didn’t even break the peaceful silence. And there you were, asleep on the couch. 

Looking at your curled up position, Sanji knew right away you’d cried yourself to sleep. And that thought alone made his eyes tear up immediately. As we walked closer, he saw dried tears on your face. Confirming what he first thought. You were soundly asleep, breathing deeply. 

He sighed, a single tear falling down his cheek. The lump in his throat growing considerably. He brushed your hair so delicately, trying not to wake you. However, as he tried his best, your eyes flickered open. 

At first slowly, until your sight adjusted, and remembered you’d fallen asleep on the infirmary. There was a dry feeling on both your eyes. Your gaze moves, the slumber still clinging from your lids as you looked at Sanji, who’s hand was gently caressing your hair. 

The amount of pain and regret in his eyes was overwhelming by itself. You didn’t even want to think how the guy was feeling inside. And yet, underneath that decrepit mask was the look Sanji always gave you. Swimming among those feelings of anguish was that unconditional love. His eyes, already teary, got much worse as your stare connected to his. 

Before you could even articulate any words, Sanji grabbed your hand, shut his eyes closed, kneeled next to the bed and started crying. An awkward apology came out in sobs. His voice low and shaky. However, everything he was saying came out of his broken heart, going out his lips with no filter. 

“I’m so sorry [Name]-chan! I was such an asshole, I should not have treated you that way. I was so scared and overwhelmed by everything else. I panicked and let the worst part of me take over. If you chose to break up with me, to never talk to me again, I would not blame you, I treated you badly and said some very mean things to you” Finally, he’d broken down, crying, his forehead pressed against your hand. 

Your eyes felt dry, but that didn’t last long. Sanji’s pain reflected on you, and soon, you were crying too. Silent tears falling down your cheeks. You brushed his hair with your other hand without saying anything. At least not until he looked back up, his eyes connecting with yours. 

Another new look gazed at you. This one was the open window to his shattered heart. The pain, the regret, the overwhelming disappointment in himself. You could both see and feel everything he was carrying on his shoulders. 

“It’s alright” Whispering, you met his stare. “I forgive you, my love” Your voice shaky.

For a brief second, everything hurt twice as much. That kindness broke him a second time. He hugged you and cried burying his face on your neck. His hands clung to you with such strength and desperation. His entire body was shaking. You hugged him back, wrapping one arm around his back, and the other one caressing his hair gently. 

“What did I do to be blessed with someone like you? It’s not fair, you deserve someone so much better…”

“Hey” You snapped. “Don’t say that” You sobbed softly. “Don’t you ever say that again, or I’ll punch you in the face” You threatened with a broken voice. 

Sanji chuckled softly and pulled back. His teary eyes staring into yours. A small smile on his lips. A small smile that still managed to make your heart skip a beat. Leaning closer, he kissed the tip of your nose and then rested his forehead against yours. 

“So...we’re pregnant, huh?” You chuckled at his question, your low laugh caressing his ears warmly. 

“Yes, we are” You answered. 

Sanji at once cupped your face and brought you closer. His lips very gently, very lightly pressing against yours. The same delicacy as the first time you kissed. When you kissed him back, you locked your lips with his. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you brought him closer. That sweet taste in your lip Sanji loved so much felt surreal for a brief second. His chest breathless, his heart going a thousand miles per hour, his head light with charm, and his belly filled with butterflies. Not believing his luck, not feeling deserving of his second chance. But he didn’t care. He promised himself he would never push you away like that again, hurt you again, make you cry again. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #258

“as above, so below, what you reap is what you sow. what you give comes back threefold, as above, so below.”

Who was your favorite cartoon character when you were a kid? Pikachu! Have you ever asked a guy out on a date? No. Who do you consider your best friend in your workplace? N/A Do you have to have your bed or anything else in your room a specific way before you go to sleep? I think I almost always have to be facing the left, but I can't really say with total certainty considering you don't really like... *realize* when you fall asleep. Have you changed your mind about anything lately? I've been on the fence about things. What do you dream about most? What is the general tone or mood of your dreams? They're either uncomfortable, melancholic run-ins with Jason or horrible nightmares about being attacked in some way and being incapable of fighting back. Do you mind going grocery shopping or is it something you enjoy? Does ANYBODY enjoy it?? If you could have a physical feature like wings, horns, a tail, ect., what would you have? GIVE ME RAM HORNS. What is something you wish more people understood about who you are as a person? A lot of my struggling goes on in my head. Like I think I'm relatively open about when I'm having a hard time, but it's come to my attention recently that there's a lot of battles people don't see and leads to the belief I give up easily. Have you ever gone through a time when you had no friends? How did you deal with it? No friends I ever hung out with or anything, yes. I just had to start reaching out and opening up a bit more, and that's when Colleen came in. What is your favorite food to have as a snack? It depends on what flavor I'm craving. Usually though, something sour and gummy. What time do you usually eat dinner? That can vary from as early as 5:30 to as late as like, 8:00. When was the last time you felt extremely happy? Like about a week ago, the second night Mom slept on the pull-out bed a family friend got us versus that damn couch she's slept on for years. Her doing it a second time was like, verification that she was more comfortable and would keep doing it, which she has. Has any food ever made you sick to the point where you’d be afraid to try it again? No, thankfully. What is something you wish you had the opportunity to do more often? Get out of the house. Do you have any interests or hobbies you thought you would outgrow, but haven’t? I wasn't sure if I would ever "outgrow" RP. Apparently I won't. Is there an outfit that you wear much more frequently than any other? There are a few shirts, yeah. How old is your television? We got it when my parents were still together, so it's old. Do you have a laptop or desktop? A laptop. Do you own any television series box sets? Just Meerkat Manor. Have you ever been in a fight with your best friend? Yeah. Was the last movie you watched a horror film? No. Where is your favorite place to go when you’re depressed? On a car ride where I can blast my music. In high school, were you in trouble a lot? No. I only ever got in trouble for too many tardies in the morning. Do you enjoy your hairstyle? Yeah. Do you have weak upper body strength? Yikes yes. Do you think hugs are awkward? Not if they're friends or similar. People I don't like and/or know well but am expected to hug anyway, yes, it's uncomfortable. Story of my life with my sister's in-laws. Do you think facial hair is gross? ... No...? I mean sure, if it's not groomed it can be, but it's very natural and normal? Would you ever dye your hair an unnatural color? UGH I want to. My hair has such a hard time holding color... Has anyone ever been weirdly obsessed with you? No. What is your favorite band of all time? Ozzy Osbourne. Always. Would you consider getting a tattoo any time soon? Literally ASAP. I was supposed to get my Mark one tidied up big big time for my birthday by a really professional artist with both holiday and birthday money, but Mom literally had to use it to keep this house and the car. It was admittedly frustrating, but I could tell she was far from happy about it and I can't *rightfully* be pissy about it. Then the cancer came along and threw a massive wrench in the plan, so now idk when that's happening now. What movie did you last watch with someone? I THINK it was the live action The Lion King with Dad. It's been a long time. Are you afraid of airplane rides? Not very actively, no. I acknowledge the risk, but it's not something I deeply worry about. If you’re reading a book, what page are you currently on? Don't have a book to read currently; I just finished the second Wings of Fire book, now I'm moving onto The Testaments by Margaret Atwood when we can order it over Amazon. Do you have a job you like? I don't have a job period. Have you ever lived with a roommate before? Yeah. How many scarves do you own, if any at all? Maybe one? If even that. Did you tell your last girlfriend/boyfriend that you love them? Yeah. What was the last thing your parents got mad at you for? Idk about Dad, but Mom... probably something I said? But I'm not sure. Do your pets have favorites? I'm the only one who handles Venus, and I'm Roman's favorite. How many people could sleep comfortably in the room you’re in? Just two if we share the bed. Would you like to have a treadmill in your house? I DESPERATELY want one. My legs are getting bad again now that I haven't physically been in school for what, a month? What’s the longest you’ve ever liked someone without telling them? Well, that would be Girt, but I went on-and-off with like-liking him for years... Since freshman year, really. It's hard to say because of my mind constantly changing. When is the last time you were on a swingset? Wow, no clue. At sleepovers, do you usually sleep on a bed, couch or floor? I haven't had one of those in too long of a time to really tell you. It would depend on the relationship, too. What’s the sweetest thing a gf/bf can do to get you to forgive them? Changed behavior. How hot does the temperature get in the summer where you live? High 90s/lower 100s. Was the last hoodie you wore too big for you? No. Did it belong to someone else? No. Have you ever taken Ambien to fall asleep? I was given it at the hospital, but it never did much for me. Did your last ex try to get back together with you after the break-up? No. Do you know someone who has 6 or more siblings? Possibly, but I don't think so. Do you rent movies frequently? Nope. What is your favorite thing to do outside? Take pictures. Will we ultimately end up destroying our own race? Yup. How do you think the world will end? Human life, climate change. Earth itself, probably like a meteor or black hole or something. I believe the universe itself will always exist. An alien ship lands at your house, and they want you. Do you go with them? Errrr no. If I even had the option. What’s your favorite meal to cook? I don't cook. Homework: Do you actually READ the chapters, or just skim through them? I read. I'd be too nervous about missing vital info to skim. If you were in a horror flick, would you be one of the first ones to die? Probably, but it depends on the predicament, I guess? What movie has been taken WAY too far, as far as sequels go? I don't know. I'm not a film buff. Do you refuse to eat certain foods because of what they look like? Yep. Green olives, for example, look so fuckin gross to me. Would you ever become a fan of a team you hate to please your spouse? No? Can you handle scary movies? I love scary movies. I enjoy the adrenaline of 'em. How often do you get a new purse…and for guys a new wallet? Not often at all. What is the most money that you have ever spent on getting your nails done? Never done that. Do you have a fake I.D.? Nope. Would you date someone 5 years older than you? Yeah. Have you ever been fingered? Yes. What is your favorite horror movie? Hmmm. I've got a bias towards Silent Hill, of course, but I also really enjoy both The Blair Witch Project movies, as well as The Crazies. Has a little kid ever fallen asleep on your lap before? Yeah. What’s your favorite kind of float? (coke, root beer) I can't remember the last time I had one of those. If you heard your best friend’s significant other was cheating on them, would you tell them? Even if you couldn’t prove it? UM yes. I mean it kinda depends on who told me this, like it could be total bullshit, but, they'd deserve to know that there was a possibility. If you discovered you were pregnant at this point in time, would you keep it or abort it? Why? If I got pregnant now, it'd have to be a case of rape, in which case I would probably abort, considering I'd be fucking traumatized worse than I already was. What is the last thing you googled? Uhhh shit. I think the definition for a word to ensure I was using it correctly? Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? Nooo. I always wanted to as a kid, but I was ultimately too scared. Do you like hot, cold, or lukewarm showers? Hot, usually. Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? Yes. Where did your mother and father meet for the first time? I think work. Have you ever stayed in a cheap motel? No. I'm too much of a germaphobe for that. Have you been to Mount Rushmore? No. Do you sleep with the door open, kinda open, or completely closed? Open or kinda open, depending on if the cat moves it or not. How old were you when you got chicken pox? Never got it. What’s your sexual orientation? Bisexual. Do you have full or thinner lips? Uh idk, they look pretty normal to me. Which of the Pirates of the Caribbean's was your favorite? Never watched 'em. Do you press the delete key or the backspace key to get rid of a mistake? Backspace. How far do you live from your parents? I live with one. How many family photos do you have in your home? Like, on display/the walls? A pretty decent amount. Are you happy with how much money you make? I make none, so like... guess. Are you the type of person that will parallel park? Fuck that. To you, what is “the best thing since sliced bread”? Probably the Internet. Do you read and believe your horoscope? No. Do you have rules for naming your future children? I'm not having kids, but if I was to, no. Which actor, in your opinion, played the best Batman? I haven't seen them all. Have you ever TURNED DOWN an invite to a wedding? Why? No. Do you believe people should get married in a church? lol get married wherever the fuck you want. Name a movie everyone else thought was funny, but you couldn’t stand: *shrugs* Does the mall you go to have an arcade? Do you go in there? No. What is your favorite Little Debbie snack? This is ACTUALLY impossible. Don't ask me this question lmao. Got any interesting wigs? I don't have any wigs. What Mario game was your least favorite, and why? I've literally only ever played Mario Kart. I'm not that interested in the games. Have you ever been snowed in? Not to where like, we couldn't go outside. Does playing games in 2-D bother you because you now play mostly 3-D games? Oh no. Graphics absolutely do not make a game. Sure, they're more desirable considering it greatly improves immersion, but still. Sometimes 2D fits the "vibe" of the game. Tell the weirdest name of a town/city you’ve ever heard: Conetoe. You're pronouncing it wrong. Do you know anyone who DOESN’T have a cell phone? I don't think so. Do you like pineapple? Oh yeah. Do you get a flu jab each year? No, but I should start. Did you ever dream about being an animal? Maybe? Idk. What's your favourite colour on a dog? Orange/red. Do you have an electric or gas cooker? Gas. What do you like to drink at a restaurant? I usually get a soda. If we're at some fancy place for once, I'll usually get some light, fruity alcohol. What was the last book you read that also is a film? I don't have a clue. Have you always known what you've wanted to do with your life, career-wise? It's changed many, many times now. Would you stay at a haunted hotel? Hell yeah. What is the best HAND-MADE present you've ever received? It was this long, extremely sweet letter my mom wrote for my b-day two years back. It meant a lot to me. Have you ever gotten pizza delivered to your house that you didn't order? I don't believe so. Do you follow a 5-second rule after dropping food on the floor? NOOOOOOOOO sir. Did you take Flintstone vitamins or any others as a child? EW, no. We were lucky enough to have fruity chewy ones, not chalky crap. What types of things do you think the government is hiding from us? Oh my fucking god, a universe of information. Aliens probably being one of the least scary things. How do you like your soda: I think it tastes best cold from a can. Have you learned anything valuable today? No. What's your favorite kind of Doritos? Cool Ranch. Do your parents have MySpace pages? Mom has a Facebook. Be honest...ever peed in the pool? Noooo. When I was a kid, you went behind the pool and handled that. Have you ever pulled a fire alarm? Nope. Have you had your tonsils removed? No. Isn't Chef Boyardee awesome? Not a fan. What reality show has been taken WAY too far? I don't watch enough TV for this. Must you grab a souvenir from almost everywhere you go? Nah, not always. Did you enjoy making things out of Play-Doh as a child? I did. What do you put on hot dogs? Mustard and ketchup. Can you swim? Yeah. Hot dogs or cheeseburgers? Cheeseburgers. Your favorite hobby? Taking pictures, particularly of animals. Do you wear glasses? Yes. Do you have a phobia? Plenty. Can you drive a stick? Never tried. How many TVs are in your house? Two. Do you like to sing? Not very long. Favorite car? Idc. Is there anything (out of the obvious) that makes you feel really ill? Perhaps, but I'm not certain. Maybe some smell. WELL WAIT, gasoline can give me a real headache, but I don't feel like, REALLY sick. Do you know both of your biological parents? Which one do you prefer? Yes, and I don't want to choose between them. When was the last time you wrote so much your finger ached? My final exam for Writing last semester. What is something you think about yourself that nobody agrees with? Quite honestly, I wouldn't put extreme emphasis on my loyalty, but only because if you prove to me that you're undeserving of my friendship, trust, or anything like that, peace. I'm out. Family, friend, whatever; I don't care. Yet most people who know me have pointed out I'm extremely loyal, but really in all cases I can think of, I remained loyal because the person was worthy of it. What about something people think of you that you don’t agree with? This depends on the person and situation of course, but mostly, that I put on a damn good front of not being a socially anxious mess. Teachers and friends have pointed that out quite a bit, but I could NOT disagree more. I think I do awfully. What design is on your calendar this year? I don't have a current one. What is your favorite type of video game? Horror. What’s the weather like where you live? (All year round, not today) The baseline is IT'S HOT. Even our winters are - usually - very mild. Summer usually soaks the shit out of us; afternoon storms are literally an almost daily occurrence, so as you can imagine, the humidity could kill a man. The weather in general is very unpredictable year-round. When was the last time you climbed a tree? I've never actually properly done so. I grew up with almost exclusively pine trees, which only have branches much too high to climb.

[deadinsidedressage]

Im very fascinated with your views on the "fat acceptance" movement. Ive seen you bring it up here and there over the years. Did you ever make a big post on it?

I’ve never like really made a post about it? I did at one point find a blog post from a heavier rider that dressagetoday or someone shared which I then added a critical commentary which is SOMEWHERE in my blog (where, who knows? what tags did I use, who knows? DID I EVEN USE TAGS???). Which I was at the time disappointed no one wanted to engage on. I can certainly share with you my thoughts though (which I will do below) and you can definitely hit me with the follow-up questions if anything isn’t clear or you want some elaboration or hell you want to start an internet fight:I’ll preface all of this with being perfectly candid about my own body, weight, and struggle both of those. I am currently overweight. I have lost about 25 pounds in the last few months and am on a trajectory to continue to lose weight until I reach something that is healthy, sustainable, and enables me to do all the stuff I want to do. I have been my “goal body” before, I have been a little heavy, and I have been fucking fat. Part of how I became “fucking fat” is related to my own deeply ingrained issues with my body and my weight (which I picked up from my mom!) leading to body dysmorphia— which as I explain to people: “I didn’t notice the weight gain because to me, I have always looked this heavy”. I also struggle with disordered eating, thankfully not a fully adopted eating disorder but still elements of restricting, binge eating, purging, and overall not at all having a healthy relationship with eating. I have been working on that! I have been doing a lot better too! So, blah blah in short on my own personal issues— I am fully and painfully aware of all the negatives that you face if you are even remotely “fat”. I am fully and painfully aware that my very unhealthy relationship with my body, with weight, and with eating probably is a great influencer on how I feel about the fat acceptance/body positive movement. I am fully and painfully aware of how a diet culture and an unhealthy emphasis on  beauty standards can impact children for the rest of their life. I am fully and painfully aware that there is a great need for some sort of movement that focuses on body positivity and loving yourself. All that being said, I think the fat acceptance movement is in the same camp as radfems, TERFS, MRAs, militant atheism, militant veganism, PETA, and so on. Essentially, there was a good idea that got taken way too far. The idea that women (or men) shouldn’t be judge for their weight as it relates to their jobs or their social interactions is great and I am behind that. Yes, it’s ridiculous that overweight women are the least likely to be hired in a filed of job candidates because of assumptions about their laziness or tidiness. Yes, it’s ridiculous that overweight men are immediately rejected as potential love interests because people assume they must be unclean and unmotivated. Supporting a movement to stop those things? Good! Supporting the ideas that there’s zero effect on your health if you’re overweight and that if someone discounts you as a love interest because you weight an great deal more than that person means that person is the devil? Boo! Not good! I think body positivity is great. I think size inclusive fashion is great. What I don’t think is great is the encouragement to maintain very unhealthy weights because “you can be a fat goddess!”. The reality of it is, excess fat will impact your health to some degree (obviously depending on how overweight you are). Excess fat will also impact your ability to pursue hobbies (again, the degree to which is related to the degree of overweight). Excess fat can inhibit your ability to be successful in your job (again, depending on your specific weight and ALSO not related to desk jobs: i.e.— an overweight ER nurse is impeded by their weight because they are slower, an overweight preschool teacher can be impeded by their weight because it limits their ability to move around with kids; like clearly if there is any level of activity to your job and you are overweight you are likely impeded in SOME degree even if the level of impediment is only in how much pain or discomfort you are in when you go home).  I just think it’s ballistic that there are people who will argue that being 400+ lbs isn’t related to their heart disease or their diabetes or their need for knee replacements— but that’s what this movement has created. It’s created a bunch of health deniers who choose to believe that the only negative impact of their weight comes from how people perceive them— which they in turn have done a great job of turning any form of unpleasant or less than ideal interaction with someone as an example of “fatphobia” or fat discrimination. My other main issue with the fat activism is the amount of entitlement it breeds. Men and women suddenly think they are entitled to being found attractive by someone and that if that person is not attracted to them it is FATPHOBIC! Of course a lot of these people also would deny any potential partner who is fat— because even though they love their body and their is nothing wrong with their weight, they’re still only attracted to fit guys BUT if those fit guys aren’t attracted to them it is because they are EVIL. Which, as someone who is getting married to the person I’ve been with for 7 years… if you whittle down relationships to just the aesthetic or the physical then you are too emotionally stunted to be in a healthy relationship. Plus, if you are incapable of realizing the degree to which mutual physical attraction IS a real part of relationships then you’re a fucking idiot. You simply cannot demand everyone find you attractive regardless of how you look— that’s just not how humans work. And I’m not saying fat people are automatically hideous, I’m saying “Some people want to fuck Brad Pitt and vomit at James Corden but some people want to fuck James Corden and vomit at Brad Pitt AND EVEN THEN some people vomit at both & some people want to fuck both.” There’s a lot of fake self-acceptance that goes on in that movement because if you do not love yourself enough to stop throwing yourself at people who are not interested in you then you are NOT accepting of your size. These people want to find love in spite of their size, not just find love— and that’s the fucking issue. When you paint your whole emotional identity around the thing that makes you feel less than, then you are not capable of honestly having healthy human interactions. Here’s a little fun anecdote for you to ponder as to what I mean about how these people act in very self-deceptive way and in a very scape-goat-everyone-else-for-your-own-unhappiness way: All of my bridesmaids are tall Amazonian goddesses (they’re all still shaped differently and they all have their own insecurities because they’re humans). My maid of honor though, is not. She is shorter than I am and heavier than I am by a good deal. Because I do not want anyone to feel like they don’t look good or whatever, I am trying to be as on top of making sure everyone feels as comfortable as possible (while still adhering to the aesthetic of my wedding). This means late night stress induced googling of “one of my bridesmaids is plus sized??” hoping to get some insights from other brides about how the fuck you manage that person’s feelings without it becoming a Thing. This has lead to the bemused reading of some absolute fucking horror stories including: a bridesmaid telling the bride that the bride is only losing weight to make her look bad, a bridesmaid purchasing a dress behind the bride’s back after the bride painstakingly found a designer that would make above 5X and would be flattering only to have the bridesmaid call the bride selfish for not letting her wear what she wants, OH AND— A BUNCH OF FUCKING ARTICLES FROM “FAT POSITIVE” WOMEN LAMENTING HOW MUCH OF A BITCH THEIR FRIEND WHO THEY WERE A BRIDESMAID FOR WAS FOR “MAKING THEM LOOK BAD” BY BEING A THIN BRIDE OR HAVING A LOT OF THE WEDDING PARTY BE “THIN” OR FOR GETTING ROBES AS GIFTS BUT APPARENTLY THE 3X ROBE DOESN’T FIT. All kinds of fucking garbage in which people who are very unhappy with themselves adopt such a defensive form of selfishness that they care more about how bad they feel than being supportive friends. Now, I am taking these all in and trying to do what I can to not have my MOH feel shitty. She’s also not a psychopath so I should be fine. But the point is— substituting a militant “anti-fitness” attitude for the crushing unhappiness you feel over your body doesn’t solve any issues. It just masks problems and enables you to continue to engage in unhealthy thought and action.

[crinolinegumdrops]

A not quite canonical conversation

[OOC: Bobby, Grace, and I did a spontaneous conversation between our characters on the Discord; I’m cross-posting it here for the non-Discord crowd. Enjoy!]

Ara-mun: [there is a hypothetical hypersensitive in my brain who desperately wants his country to do cleaning because then there wouldn't be any reds anywhere in the country and he is so done with gumdrop's definition of suffering]

aforementioned hypersensitive, designated "Ara": oh no. poor you. you have to live in a clean country.

Gumdrop-mun: [I mean, Gumdrop is fine with red cleaning!]

Gumdrop-mun: [It's ex-reds doing things like, oh no, standing next to them in line at the coffee shop that they object to.]

Ara: but they're clean, who cares, they aren't doing anything wrong, I don't like knowing when people near me have been polluted either but I don't make everyone who's ever been polluted leave the nation, and as long as I don't know it can't bother me, why is everyone so obsessed with newly-cleans disclosing why would you want to have to think about that

Gumdrop: Evil criminals become no less evil criminals when one is ignorant of their trespass!

Serpent: Have you considered that you may be hypersensitive, or otherwise unsound of mind?

Ara: but they're not evil! or criminals! and they're clean!

Ara-mun: [does serpent just assume everyone is mentally ill all the time for hair-trigger reasons]

Serpent-mun: [Serpent’s response to half of tumblr is ‘are you mentally ill’, honestly.]

Gumdrop: Being now cleaned does not wash away the taint of their previous actions.

Gumdrop: Nor, evidentially, does it instill any new knowledge of such things as courtesy or boundaries.

Ara: if someone had a boundary that they didn't want hypersensitives standing next to them in line at the coffee shop, it wouldn't be my responsibility to avoid them, it would be their responsibility to avoid me. if my brain is being stupid and decides that I can't be anywhere near hypos for a week that doesn't make all hyposensitives evil for not avoiding me, I have to put in the effort to avoid them if I want to do that, they're clean

Serpent: My poor, unfortunate compatriot in the common Amentan endeavor: stop equivocating between ex-reds and reds. No, seriously, stop doing that. Now. You’re inciting pollution hysteria because of your mental health issues, and it’s flatly unacceptable in civilized society.

Gumdrop: Of course ex-reds do not continue to be red. They merely retain the trait of being terrible, terrible people. That does not wash off.

Serpent: Are you under the impression that the cleaning process entails someone spraying a red with a soapy water gun and going ‘I’ve got one!’, or what.

Ara: but they don't? newly-cleans aren't any more likely to be criminals or violent than born-cleans, look at all these statistics!

Gumdrop: The cleaning process removes all pollution from the body. Criminality is merely linked to pollution.

Gumdrop: I see you are a proponent of the Efreti hypothesis.

Gumdrop: You should remember that it proposes that the new person inherits tendencies and traits from the old self. It is not that simple to be rid of corruption of character.

Gumdrop: Statistics? They're being evil right now, by being in my space!

Serpent: What is it with machine translation randomly changing ‘Erefeti’ to the archaic ‘Efreti’? It’s bizarre. And, as I shouldn’t have to remind you, they do inherit traits from their past ‘selves’- that aren’t inherently related to pollution. They transfer from their position on the red bell curve to their position on the Amentan bell curve. Unusually conscientious reds become unusually conscientious people- and reds that are averagely moral for their kind become averagely moral people.

Ara: okay but if a hypo is in my space when I don't want them to be that means I should leave or ask them, it doesn't mean they're evil, they're clean, there's nothing wrong with them existing in public, if you want to stay in your apartment that's fine but you can't purge clean people from public spaces just because you feel like it

Ara-mun: [this person is like three and spends 80% of his time in his apartment, to be clear]

Gumdrop-mun: [...Now Gumdrop wants to kidnap this child and protect them]

Gumdrop-mun: [They have a right to boundaries, damn you! <|:((    ]

Serpent, internally: grumbles over people who barely know more about Surefet than the name and its export of anchovies suddenly playing armchair theologian.

Gumdrop: Dear. If someone continues to invade your personal space when you are clearly distressed, they are a bad person, regardless of sensitivity.

Ara-mun: [of course he has a right to boundaries it's just his responsibility to enforce them, other people aren't just magically going to know who his brain is being stupid about today, so if he doesn't want to see someone he has to avoid them]

Gumdrop: Averagely moral people do not attempt to invade the homes and businesses of people they know will be unbearably unhappy as a result.

Gumdrop: I would not do this, and I would not be so arrogant as to claim I am some outstanding moral beacon.

Serpent: Have you considered that you may have an unusually pleasant view of the average person’s disposition. Most people are mildly terrible, and they’re particularly terrible when cornered by circumstance- as I’m sure you are currently, though given that your ability to provide for yourself isn’t at stake I rather imagine you can manage to rise above the cruft, so to speak.

Serpent: And claiming that you wouldn’t try and seek employment and the potential for children, damn the unpleasant experiences of others, is in fact claiming to be an outstanding moral beacon.

Serpent: Which, given your obvious prejudice, I rather doubt.

Gumdrop: If an employer made it clear that they would only hire purples, and I chose to dye my hair and lie to them for that extra 10%*, then yes, I would be a bad person.

Gumdrop-mun: [*or whatever the OOCI cap in Met is :P ]

Serpent: Your ability to survive and have children is deeply unlikely to be dependent on an extra 10% of income.

Gumdrop: If I were to walk into an orange-only club meeting, sit down, and refuse to leave, I would be a bad person.

Serpent: None of these examples are putting your potential to have children and not starve to death at stake.

Serpent: And they are accordingly fallacious comparisons.

Serpent: Your country might have a lovely welfare system, I wouldn’t know- ours is easy enough to slip through, if you catch the right person’s disfavor- so perhaps starving to death is an extreme example.

Gumdrop: Starve to death? Good grief, Miolee exists! They are not, as you imagine, "cornered by circumstance". They have their own space! The country of Evalee made a space for them at their own cost! Why they cannot utilize it and leave us alone is beyond me!

Serpent: But I cannot emphasize how terrible it is to deprive people of children for your own satisfaction and schadenfreude- Miolee is physically incapable of holding every ex-red that exists.

Serpent: And you had your chance to advocate for your country to create a special internal ex-red zone, and you failed.

Serpent: Ex-reds do not, in fact, genuinely have the universal option to pack up their things and live in ex-red only zones.

Serpent: They are not the ones at fault here.

Gumdrop: Shadenfreude? I do not take joy in their suffering. I merely want them to leave me alone.

Gumdrop: As to children, I would have those if people were better at boundaries! Do you know how long I spend before each date meticulously ensuring they are not some rapacious deceiver?

Gumdrop: The fact that Met is less homely than it has ever been does not mean I should lie down and let others experience this violation!

Gumdrop: I agree they are not entirely at fault. The blues that are supposed to care for their people abandoned us to this fate as well. But these ex-reds are very much not doing what they can to mitigate their part in this.

[OOC: At this point, the muns reached their bedtime.]

[michisilver]

Miu and Lance letters

(it’s a bit long, but these are Letters that Lancefer and Miu sent back and forth to each other while she was gone. It explains some of what was going on for both of them during that time and gives you a small peak into their relationship with each other)    Dear Lance, *the next section of the letter has several sentences scribbled out as if the writer was second guessing themselves* I imagine you're wondering where I am at the moment, and the truth is I'm not entirely sure but what I can tell you is that I am safe with my brother Jared. Well as safe as one can be on a pirate ship with your brother being the captain, I should take it as a compliment that his men seem to adore him and had no issue taking the boss's 'baby brother' aboard which is a great deal better a response I got than when I was female. I did spare them the details of what happened with the cannibals but they got the jist of it and seemed more than happy to help me track the Shaman down. At the moment I think it may be the only way I'm going to be able to reverse this... *The letter looks like it's half signed before a line goes through it and then the letter continues*  I'd been trying to avoid really talking about what happened... or facing the things that happened there... even after I woke you up with my screaming from nightmares. I had really hoped that I could avoid ever facing the cannibals, or more to the point that shaman, ever again. I just finally admitted to myself that I needed to find and face this shaman on my own, and from what I can tell he and a few of his tribesmen got away. How I'm not entirely certain, but it seems as if they took a lot of the spoils from all their 'meals' to buy their freedom. The men who were discovered to be the ones that let them go were severely punished, I hear. 

*The letter continues on the next page* My brother Jared has always been pretty good at hearing the goings on all over, and as such we are currently following clues as to where they could have gone to... I feel foolish for having waited so long, worried that the trail has gone cold. If only I hadn't been such a coward, afraid to face 'him' again... so many things could have been different. I guess thinking on the what if's isn't going to do me any good though. So... I'll leave you with this... I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly, and I miss you desperately... Miu ~~~~ Dear Miu,  I miss you just as much, love. I wish you would have allowed me to come with you. I could have gotten Lord Francel to approve the time needed. But as you said, thinking on 'what ifs' will do us no good. Honestly? I just want you to be happy. If that means you need to do this to be happy? Then you have my support. Completely. Next time just ask me to come with you. The apartment feels so empty without you by my side. I will pray to Halone every day to watch over and guide you on this. Just remember how much you mean to me and keep writing to me. Let me know you're safe. It will go a long way in soothing my worry over your well being. I may ask Tara is she does not mind me spending time around her place in the mean time. It may help to keep my mind distracted. Especially from the whispers of that stone. Without you here it feels like it's trying harder. I am going to try to find a way to deal with it. If staying with Tara helps while I search, then it will be worth it. So you focus on finding your answers and I shall find some of my own. Then when you come back to me, we can work on planning that wedding. No more things shadowing our happiness.  With all my heart  - Lance ~~~~ Dear Lance,  I seem to find myself reminded just how different one is treated depending on their gender, sometimes I'm almost tempted to stay male after everything is said and done just because of the fact I'm not treated like I'm incapable of fighting or taking care of myself. I say this because today the ship was attacked and I've lost count how many times people have shoved me somewhere safe or told me I wasn't needed... it's very frustrating, I can very clearly remember it happening on ships especially from when I was growing up.  this time though, I wasn't only not shoved somewhere safe but I was expected to fight. And fight I did, I've been picking up a few... unorthodox spells on my travels... one of which sent lightning streaming down onto our opponent's ship, catching it's stores of gunpowder on fire and putting a hole in their hull. The fight was won without any blood shed, at least as far as I can tell... I wouldn't loose much sleep over them if there was, as while they are called 'pirates' they are the scum of all pirates... they follow no code and kill indiscriminately as well as attack their allies and friends alike when it suits them.I may have frightened the crew a bit with that attack though, they've given me a wide berth and done their best not to get on my bad side... which oddly reminds me... I don't know what will happen when or if I face the Shaman... thus just in case, as I don't know how the crew will act if I suddenly turn female... I've brought with me a fantasia if I need it.  When my mind isn't distracted with combat, looking for clues, or dealing with the crew I find myself looking out across the water thinking on what you have been up too, how have things been with you while I was gone? Have you been sleeping well? Have you struggled more with the stone? and then thinking about the wedding... heh, I still don't know what you see in me... but I'm grateful everyday that you seem to find something not only worthy of your time but also your heart, knowing that here I am at sea so far away from you, well I know many would have written me off... I wouldn't blame you if you did... Though I really hope you don't. I wish I'd thought to take something of yours with me when I left, I've nothing of you to curl up when I try to sleep at night.  Rather I toss and turn all night missing having the warmth of you next to me at night, and when I do dream... they're fitful dreams of worst case scenario's... sometimes I even find myself back at that village, that too small cage of woven bamboo that might as well have been solid steel for all the good trying to break it did.I could never stretch my limbs out, I couldn't even turn my head very far, and then the sounds... I could never see what happened to them... only hear the sounds of the men they dragged out of the cages, the wet sound of blades cutting through skin, sometimes they would skin the men alive before putting them above the fire to cook... I think they had a sick pleasure out of torture... The only reprieve from my cage was when the Shaman came to drag me to his hut, I wanted to run every time but my limbs wobbled and trembled weakly from having little to no food, dehydration,  and being curled up in a tight ball for so long.  I never looked forward to the shaman though, as each time he'd take joy out of watching me struggle to move, knocking me to the ground as he half dragged and half guided me to his hut, and then knowing that I would loose parts of myself once more. I don't know what happened to me in that hut, I can only remember that I hated that hut and him and I feared him, but why... I don't know. He some how blocked my access to those memories... I think that may have been part of why I held myself back for so long when it came to facing him again.... I'm terrified of what I will discover... if I'm able to break his curse will I also break that block of my memories? Will I be able to live with myself if I know just what it was that he was doing?Sometimes, I just want to give up, use a crystal and teleport back to you... but then I'd be doing us both a disservice... so... I continue to persist in this... for lack of a better word, trial. Wishing I could curl up with the at least the scent of you in my bed at night.  your sun Miu ~~~~~ My summer sun,  As I have said before, whatever form makes you happy is how I want you. Physical limitations can be worked on. We can teach you to fight much like I have been helping my cousin. Tara agreed to allow me to stay with her after much debate on where I would be sleeping. She refused to let me take the couch and kept trying to give up her bed. In the end we settled on her adding an extra bed to the apartment for me to sleep in.  I sleep alright most nights. I'd sleep better with you safe at my side. You should know after all this time, you can not get rid of me so easily. I have cared about you since the first day we met and you offered to show me around the part of Eorzea that I've never seen before. Not many souls seem to care about showing around some Ishgardian knight. Without you and Tara, I'd probably be lost to this world by now. All that happened to my family... (There were a few dried wet spots on the page around this paragraph) I do not think I would have continued on without her friendship and your love. I was truly ready to surrender to the madness of that stone.  Tara managed to reconnect me with my brother. Sadly it is only over a linkpearl as our mother still watches him like a hawk. Yet it brings me much joy to hear his voice. To know he never gave up on me despite the family disowning me. Halone have mercy. I wish to hold you just as much as you want to be with me. This distance is maddening. However keep strong and keep forging forward. If this is what you need to do, then do it! I know Halone will guide you back to me just as she has before. If she is willing to grace me with you once, I feel she shall do so again. Once you return we can resume the wedding plans. After I get some much needed alone time with you of course.  Your Sky, Lance ~~~~

    My sky,  So many times there is little to do while traveling through the sea's, and thus my eyes tend to travel upwards towards the long stretch of blue skies... and I'm reminded of you, how much I love looking into the warmth of them, not even the sky can truly do justice to the beauty of your eyes. Jared tells me we're nearing the location he's heard rumors of a new tribe popping up among the islands that fit the description of the shaman and the cannibal tribesmen. Thankfully there aren't many of them left and the men here had no love for those that devour the flesh of hyur, elezen and miqo'te alike. If anything they seem to be anxious to rid the seas of such troublesome beasts.  I'm so glad you've been able to avoid being alone, I always worry about you as it is with your line of work, what happened with your family, the stone, and then just being alone... so knowing you aren't alone and someone is keeping an eye out for you is reassuring. It wasn't at all a difficulty for me to show you about Eorzea, if anything it gave me more time to spend with you and steal glances at the handsome nobleman that I had run into with my distracted clumsiness.  I hope your brother is just as happy to hear from you as you seem to be to hear from him. Maybe some day he can stand up to your bother and sister and the both of you will be able to see each other face to face again. I'd love to see the younger brother of the man who stole my heart, even when I tried to keep distance between us to save you from that dirty pirates daughter.I pray the gods bring me back to you soon, and... I'll admit wedding plans don't sound nearly as interesting as resting in the warmth of your sky once more.  Love,  Miu ~~~~ Miu, Just take care of yourself, love. I'll stay alive and well for your sake. I swear it. After all this gives you a reason to come back home. Knowing you have someone waiting for you who loves you.  Something strange happened the other day. I was leaving Ishgard after leaving something for my brother. I ran into someone... Or rather he was looking for me. Alexois was outside of the gates. We... Talked for a bit. Over a flask of whiskey.  Miu... You're right. He's changed. There is something different about him then I remember. Almost like he's finally growing up or something like it. Maturing maybe? I told him to leave before I'd have to arrest him. I am still a knight and he is still wanted. So I gave him a chance to walk away. I don't want to have to be the one to kill him or arrest him. He actually apologized to me for the things that happened. Seemed he wanted me to understand his side of things. I do not approve of the choices he made... But sometimes in life we make poor choices with good intentions. This doesn't make us friends again but this doesn't mean we're still enemies.  I miss you, Miu. I pray to see you soon.  Love,  Lance ~~~~ Lance,  I'm so ecstatic to hear that! I'm even more glad to hear that he approached you, I'd tried to talk him into explaining to you what had happened and why but... he seems to believe he doesn't deserve any joy or goodness in his life. I hope the two of you can possibly meet up and talk some more, and maybe not become friends again but at least... open communication between the two of you again.  Just like you talking with your brother again, it's never helpful to close ourselves off from those of our pasts that meant and still mean much to us, though hurt will often make us close our hearts off... Now, I suppose i should give you an update on my own situation at present. We hunted down and finally caught up with the Shaman and what was left of his cannibal tribe. It's so strange how when I was captured by them that they seemed like such monsters that haunted my dreams even after I had gotten free. Seeing them now in a new light... they seemed so... pathetic... the only reason they'd managed to capture me and the pirates that had entrapped me was because of the shipwreck and our weakened states. Now they're so emaciated, skin clinging to bodies that seem almost inhuman from just how thin and weak they were. The men had been so eager for a fight, and were just a bit disappointed that it hadn't been much of one... The shaman though... he had been far more difficult to face off against. His magic's nothing I'd ever faced or seen before... still we were able to take him down. I didn't know what to do, as I didn't truly want to kill him even after everything that had happened... my brother though took the choice from me and slit the mans throat, Jared seemed angry when he did it as well... I hadn't realized how angry he was at my situation until that exact moment.  It makes me wish he wasn't a pirate captain so I could spend more time with my brother than the few times he comes to port and actually lets me know he's there...  As soon as his throat was slit many of the emotions and memories he'd siphoned off me returned in a jumble... I still struggle to organize them together into something that makes sense, and it's so odd how... those memories don't even feel like mine anymore. It's hard to describe... In any case I didn't need to take the fantasia as I had thought, as while I felt the magic that kept me locked to this form fall away... it wasn't enough to change me back. I am fairly certain now though that I can change back as soon as I take a Fantasia.Something which I will hold off on doing until I get back home and I'm able to see you again... I'm coming home... I can't wait to be in your arms again Lance.  Your loving sun,  Miu

[finsterhund]

tired and weak

I don’t know if I’m going to be able to bounce back.

I don’t know if I’m stable or functional right now.

I am no longer spending days weeping, getting the violent psychotic meltdowns or other overtly physical symptoms but I don’t think I’m okay.

But I can’t keep myself shut up not doing any of the things I like to do online because isolating myself is not helping me. I only did it because my psychotic episode was causing me to hurt my friends. I did this for them, but it’s not helping me beyond cutting off things that my psychosis could latch onto. It is more than capable of doing it on its own.

I am coming to terms with how my situation is not healthy, it is not sustainable, and it is not safe.

I feel that I am not safe and I do not have anyone I can trust. That my environment is unhealthy and is continuing to retraumatize me and that I am not receiving adequate care.

I am unable at this time to tell how much of this is delusion and how much is that people in my life are actually a danger to me. Psychosis is like that. But things have been getting clearer on many relationships and issues.

My roommate told me that he is going to be writing a letter to the landlord to try and convince them that I need to get my service dog and if that works I wouldn’t need to take it to court. But I can’t tell if that’s just an empty promise. I feel like I am being told what I want to hear in an effort to keep me under control. That I am being satiated just enough so I don’t get violent or kill myself. But that my environment is never going to improve in its current state.

There’s been a lot of empty promises. And with my psychosis makes the already difficult issues impossible to navigate.

I am very disabled. I know I type really well and talk a big game, all bark and no bite though basically. Truth is I am unable to take care of myself. And with covid and me being high risk I don’t know if I am capable to put myself into a new situation/environment where I can thrive at this time. I am at the mercy of whoever I can find as a guardian. This is not healthy, and is something that I cannot yet find an escape from. All that it seems I can do is hold on and wait until an opportunity presents itself, to submit to the freeze and fawn response until I’m able to make my move. A move I will need support that I can’t even begin to wrap my head around to make.

Obviously “cringing and waiting” isn’t something that severe mental illnesses are going to be play nice with. And this is why I am unstable.

I must stress that I am not an independent. I am not functional in society as an independent. And even with my service dog this may stay the same financially. I am stunted, slow, whatever gentle word you want to call mental retardation. And that on top of debilitating mental disorders and trauma disorders prevents me from functioning on my own.

I cannot have a job. I cannot leave the house by my own. I have a learning disability surrounding numbers, time, math, etc. I am slow enough that it is extremely difficult for me to go about daily adult tasks that most people take for granted. My physical body being shit just ads to that and makes me slow in an equally useless and infuriating way.

It is very easy to take advantage of me. And the combination of me being a dependent when combined with that is dangerous for my health.

I will be making a doctor appointment for the explicit purpose of getting a note to try and pressure the landlord. I know that once me and my service dog are a working team more opportunities to become more independent and to get myself out of this situation will be presenting themselves. But nothing can happen immediately, yet at the same time I am suffering from things not being resolved immediately.

I am living in a way that is constantly exposing me to stress and pain. And I have acknowledged I need to get out of it but don’t yet have the means to know how.

I do have friends who may be capable of helping, but the virus has put a roadblock on that help for now.

Things like moving, programs for people with disabilities, hospital visits, etc. have all been made impossible by the virus.

I have ruled out moving back in with my mother. Even though she has improved and I definitely see her as a victim of abuse and living with undiagnosed mental illnesses of her own it just is not safe for me to live with her.

The only thing I can do now is make the effort to try and protect myself from the things that are hurting me emotionally that I am currently incapable of getting away from.

And trying to push towards my dog.

Everything else is waiting for things to be capable of changing.

I have pinpointed what I believe triggered this week’s psychotic break. Residual trauma from the first Christmas spent knowing the holiday killed Zippy, combined with frequent exposure to traumatic stimuli and unhealthy power dynamics, financial and social stress, as well as an increased lack of support regarding being invalid.

I am not in a healthy situation.

I began to sniff out bad people with the intent to keep track of them to make sure they weren’t planning to hurt me. This is the same maladaptive strategy I have been using to make sure my birth father wasn’t planning to kill everyone at my mom’s house way back when. In reality, exposing myself to the evil culture of bad people is not helping me psychologically. And I am powerless to actually kill them like I wish I could. But I felt like I had some level of control knowing their every move after I have no control in the situations I am spending my daily life in. It’s like drinking a poison so you can ignore a gunshot wound. I wish I could treat the wound, but drinking the poison makes me forget about it for a while. Both are unhealthy, but the act of creating a new problem makes it easier to ignore the initial one that I have no ability to change. At the cost of my rapidly fraying mental stability.

My environment is not one that I can control. And it is not one that I can currently fix or leave.

For my safety I am not capable of going into detail about certain people and their effect on my health. Being a dependent means that this directly can threaten me at an already vulnerable time.

I need to get out of my current situation, but am incapable of doing so. This has caused an extreme amount of stress to build up to the point that my antipsychotics weren’t enough to keep me safe. I was told that even being on anti psychotics you can still experience episodes and down periods. Which is scary to think about.

But I have no avenue to change this situation at this time.

I do not know if I am fit to hold communications with people right now. I will not be returning to social groups until I am told explicitly that it is okay to do so. By my primary care physician, by my psychiatrist, and by the people I socialize with themselves. But I will now state that anyone may come to me with the explicit understanding that I don’t know if I am rational or mentally safe right now. You will be communicating with me at your own risk and understand that I may still be experiencing heightened amounts of unreality and delusions.

I am no longer experiencing violent symptoms. I have made the steps to prevent myself from doomscrolling and keeping tabs on my abusers. But I understand that I am not above the possibility of lapsing back into doing this.

I am now on my pain meds again. Being off them for an extended period of time was likely contributing to my psychological pain despite these meds themselves not being addictive, the relief they give me might have been.

I am currently only with 3 dolars in my bank account and 5 dollars cash. I will be getting paid in 12 days. I should have enough food to last me this long. It is stressful, but I was already anticipating this situation to happen at this time.

I am extremely sorry for allowing my delusions and sickness to hurt innocent people. It was not my intent to cause pain to others. Whilst I would like to explicitly remind people that my mental illness directly influences how I perceive reality and this can make it impossible to tell if I am justified in my actions at times, it still doesn’t make up for the pain it may cause in the process.

Friends have expressed pain at me saying that I am not recieving help and nobody is helping me despite them trying to support me online.

Please understand that I appreciate the energy you are sending my way, but I am explicitly venting about my living situation that you nor I have any way of fixing. In the future to help my friends not feel like I am ignoring their attempts at helping me I have created this disclaimer that I will be putting on posts about situations that online friends cannot help or change. I hope this will alleviate the pain of your efforts not solving my problems.

I appreciate everything people try to do for me, even if my mental illness makes me not see it at the time. I understand it is very difficult to be close to someone who doesn’t perceive reality properly all the time, and I may not always show it when I am being helped due to one issue being immediately replaced by another, but I do appreciate.

I have been told that despite me being clingy that I tend to push people away and isolate myself when I am hurting. This is because I was abused and treated badly for expressing clinginess. This included targeted stalking when I was still a minor. My brain had it beaten into me that if I was clingy towards people they would hate me and not want to be my friend. As a result I experience clinginess by violently wishing I could be close to them while trying to hide that from them and give them space. If anything this presents itself as persecutory jealousy. It is something I am trying to stop doing.

I also apologize for friends trying to do things with me, encourage me, socialize with me, and me being too exhausted to appreciate or join in. This is equal parts my distress at my living situation, my mental health, and my physical health. I spend most of my life far too exhausted to consistently socialize except for manic periods where I am desperate to do so. Again, the solution to this issue is post-covid changes to my living situation and the resources I have access to.

The point that I think sums this up though is that I cannot keep living like this. I will continue breaking down, I will continue having episodes, and I will continue lashing out. Violence is and always has been my answer to fear in situations I cannot change or leave.

I don’t know if there’s a way to fix this during covid, but I KNOW there isn’t an immediate way to fix this before I get my service dog.

Additionally: I do not want to be institutionalized, being trapped in a psych ward when you are not explicitly a danger to yourself or someone else will only make you worse, and calling police for “wellness checks” on disabled people who have ugly/scary mental illnesses will get them killed. Please understand that the system itself will not help me. I need to find a different solution. This unfortunately does involve jumping through hoops that I cannot at this time.

Again, I would like to state that I will be trying to return online, but I will not be engaging with people who haven’t explicitly come TO ME until my doctor, my psychiatrist, and those people themselves, let me know that I am allowed to do so. Please be advised that I may not currently be in a safe place mentally.

I will be trying to interact with art and media that I enjoy with minimal social contact with people outside of those who have come to me and are okay with that. Stressful things i will make every attempt to ignore.

[pebblysand]

Author Interview Tag

Author Interview Game

Thank you sooooo much for the tag @tessiete​ this has actually made my day! I fucking love writing about writing (bit self-indulgent, I know) and reading other people’s writing about writing and oh, god, I’m so excited!!

Name: pebblysand

Fandoms: from beginning to end - Without A Trace, House, Spooks/MI:5, The Good Wife, Silk, Harry Potter (although, technically, that was probably the first one - my mum’s best friend said she had to read HP because from age 6 to age 10 it was all I ever consented to talk about). 

Where you post: AO3 and FF. 

Behind the cut cause this post is loooong. 

Most popular oneshot: 

So, the first thing I need to confess is: I geek over AO3 and FF analytics. I always cross-post simultaneously and find the difference (and similarities) between the websites and their audiences, and the way it reflects in the feedback on my work, absolutely fascinating. I mean, I’m doing the following based on kudos for AO3 and on favourites for ff and the first fic on AO3 is twelth in ranking on ff. The first fic on ff is ninth on AO3. They’re the same stories posted at the same time! Why the difference? Can someone please conduct a sociological study of both websites because I’m digging this. 

However, even more interesting: the second most popular story is the same on both. It’s also one I really don’t like. Isn’t that mad?

Anyway, onto the nitty-gritty. 

AO3: Truth (Peaky Blinders)

I like parts of this one. It was the first thing I wrote after years of not writing and I think it might have suffered a bit from that kind of stiffness in my writing muscles. Obviously, it was also so linked to the end of series 3 that it ended up being AU quickly after series 4 came out, which is a bit annoying. I think I also may have made Tommy a bit too intense in this one? I don’t know. There are parts of it that I really do like, though. I really, really love the structure, and the opening is probably my all time favourite in anything that I’ve written (a very close race with Once for TGW, tbh). 

Anyway, I always think it’s a bit funny that this one became the most popular (by far by the way) out of everything I’ve ever written because it was such a flop when I posted it hahah. Got like three kudos and one comment, and because I hadn’t written in so long, I remember thinking: ‘ah, that’s it, then, I’m shite.’ Little did I know! Now, it’s just been steadily getting more and more love with every month that passes and that just makes me so, so happy. I suppose that people just watch Peaky on Netflix and find the fic when they dig through the archive, give it kudos - it’s so, so lovely. I also recently got one of my favourite comments I’ve ever gotten on it (on FF) and it’s really made my day :). 

FF: Cannonballs (The Good Wife)

Again, one that was not very popular at the start (I seem to remember it had the lowest amount of favs for quite some time, actually) but has gradually grown to be popular-ish. I honestly haven’t read this is so long that I don’t really have an opinion on it but I do remember that it is the first thing I actually remember properly working on. I was eighteen when I wrote it and although I’d been writing for years prior to that, I’d always just kind of wrote stuff in one go, posted it and forgot about it. This one was the first one I really worked on, planned, edited, and I remember re-reading it a couple of years back and thinking it was probably the first one that makes me not cringe now. Overall, I do like that it’s popular now. 

Most popular multichap: 

(Full disclosure, I’ve only ever written two multichaps, both happen to be listed here)

AO3: Children (Silk)

My baby. My love. On and off, between writing, first posting, then editing and reposting - 2.5 years of work. It is a ridiculously niche fandom but sure look, I’m so proud of it. I’d always thought I was a one-shot kind of girl, that I was incapable of writing and framing a long-form story, and yet, here I am. I am madly proud of this. 

FF: Castles (Harry Potter)

Sheer force of numbers, here, to be honest. It’s only two chapters in, and already two kudos short of overpowering Children on AO3, which I’m guessing will make it most popular across the board, just because the fandom itself is so large. 

I will say this: I’ve had this story in my head for years and I think part of the reason why I’m only writing it now is that after years of writing in nice, niche fandoms where you could easily read all the fics available in a few days and make friends with readers because everyone kind of knew each other, I finally have the backbone to face the Potter fandom. Because fuck, as much as I love the books and have gotten absolutely lovely, thoughtful comments on this throughout the past few weeks, God can that fandom be brutal.

And, don’t get me wrong: I’ve had constructive criticism on a number of my fics in the past, including very niche ones. Even if it does sometimes hurt a bit, it’s always helped me better my writing. I remember for instance one chapter of Children where someone wrote in that they were confused and couldn’t follow the narrative. I was a bit annoyed at first but in the end, it made me rethink the chapter and rewrite it, and they were 100% correct. That’s the whole point of constructive criticism/debates in comments. 

The Potter fandom has that, no doubt. I’ve had super interesting discussions in comments and overall the response and feedback has been incredible, like I’ve never even dreamt of before. This being said, I’ve also gotten more shit than I’ve had in any other fandom. For instance: the story picks up after the war (starts in May 1998). The summary reads: “To him, the spring of '98 is about sex and funerals.” - which is a line taken from the fic itself. When you labour over something for hours on end and the first comment you get is: “first learn when spring season starts and ends before writing a story about it. what a joke.” it’s a bit disheartening, to say the least. 

And, I know. First of all, yes, that person is an idiot and clearly doesn’t know when spring ends and summer starts themselves because summer only technically starts on the 21st of June. Secondly, even if I’d gotten it wrong, I didn’t write a story about the seasons, you idiot. It’s clearly a line taken from the story. Lastly, learn how to punctuate and spell. Now, I’m 27. I know that. I can disregard that. But even then it still feels like shit. If I’d gotten that kind of trolling when I was younger, I’m not sure I’d still be writing today. I really admire younger writers who start out on Potter - I was very afraid until now, tbh.

Favorite story you’ve written: 

This, I really don’t know. I was trying to pick one but I think my favourite one is almost always the one I’ve either just written or am writing now. For a long time, I really loved Once. I also really liked Daisies and Dreams. I obviously love Children although I think I’ve spent so much time writing and editing it that it’ll take a bit of time for me to really appreciate it without also self-editing in my head, if that makes sense. 

Right now, though, I love Castles. I think it’s the best piece of writing I’ve ever written. When the next one comes around, I hope that’s the best piece of writing I’ve ever written. That means progress. 

Fic you were nervous to post: 

Castles for reasons explained above. I love HP but I don’t think big fandoms in general are my thing. I like decent-sized fandoms. Like, TGW-size, back in the day, was perfect. Even as a reader, it’s also fucking hard to find good fic due to the sheer mass of stuff out there. Where do you even start?

How you choose your titles: 

Castles, Children, Daisies, Truth, Mistakes, Dreams, Before, Once, Cannonballs - hello, do you detect a pattern here :D?

Jokes aside, yeah, I like one-word titles. Believe it or not, though, it hadn’t occurred to me that I always seemed to gravitate towards them until @orbythesea on AO3 pointed it out to me. To be honest, even the fics that don’t materially have one-word titles have one-word titles in my head. Like, Horses Made of Sticks is actually just Horses, in my head. I should probably have called it Horses. 

How do I choose? Depends. Sometimes, they come from songs (Castles, Children, Daisies). Sometimes, it’s quotes, concepts from the show/book, or sometimes it just fits. Like, Once, Dreams and Truth couldn’t really have been called anything else, they’re just what the fics are about. 

Do you outline? 

Yes, always. For one-shots, I usually have an outline on my phone or part of the word file I’m writing the fic in itself, just a list of scenes or quotes that come to me at random points during the day that I will forget if I don’t write them down. I am very forgetful of my own brilliance hahaha. 

For longer stuff, I usually have the general plot in my head from beginning to end before I start writing. Then, chapter by chapter, I plan with a blank A4 sheet of papers that I fill with post-its describing different scenes, a little bit like a paper version of those boards they have in writers’ rooms. It helps me physically see where scenes fall, where holes are. I do the same thing for original fiction. 

For reference, one for Children (chapter 9) would have looked like that. They’re definitely not set in stone, though. Lots of times I’ll change stuff on the spot, big or small. Scenes that pop up randomly or get deleted because they worked in my head but not on paper, sometimes moved (sometimes moved to other chapters even). Here, “Alice” later became “Charlotte” and that “eye-fucking” (LOL) scene never happened. 

Complete: 

I think they’re all complete? I never completed that alphabet-based collection of House one-shots but it was a collection and they were shite anyways. They’re not missed, lol. 

Of course, Castles is incomplete, but that’s just my current WIP. 

In progress: 

As I said, Castles. Also a piece of original fiction that I’m not sure where to post. Like, what do people do with short stories? Where do you post that shit online? Can anyone help?

Coming soon/not yet started: 

No idea. I’m a one-project-at-a-time kind of gal. 

Prompts: 

I love prompts. Send me all the prompts. Especially three-sentence-story prompts. God, I miss those. 

Upcoming Work You’re Most Excited About: 

I mean, again, Castles. 

No pressure tags: I have no one to tag because I’m not really in fandom anymore but if anyone sees this and wants to do this, please be my guest. Again, I love reading about other people’s writing and writing processes because we’re all different and it’s fascinating. 

Also, if anybody’s got theories about ff v. AO3 tastes and readership, hit me up, I could speculate for hours. 

And thanks again @tessiete​ for tagging me

[bobsantics]

Chapter 5

Bob had a car. It wasn’t a huge car, nor was it particularly small. It wasn’t red, or blue, or orange, and it was most certainly not a Prius. It didn’t have four doors at all, and it was neither roofless nor roofed. It was quite the standard car, not one of those fancy three dimensional 1080p cars everyone wants. Bob could never afford one of those. Heck, he couldn’t even afford this one. But, alas, the car was there, and it was his.

As he walked towards the car, Bob failed to actually see the car, so he walked aw…

Wait a minute.

Bob went back and examined the spot where the car was, but saw no car.

No, this is not right. The car was there. There was a lovely car there just waiting to be driven. So Bob did not open the car’s door and he… no, no, no. What is going on? He DID… not open the car door and he walked away.

Okay, that’s it. I can’t work like this. I’m summoning the Manager.

Uh, Manager? Are you there?

“I AM AMBIANCE. I AM THE FABRIC OF THIS UNIVERSE. OF ALL UNIVERSES. I AM AMBIANCE. I DWELL IN THE SYNAPSES BETWEEN THE NEURONS THAT IMAGINE THIS WORLD. I AM THE WORDS. I AM THE LETTERS. I AM THE PIXELS AND THE INK. I AM AMBIANCE. YOUR EXISTENCE IS A MERE CONSEQUENCE OF MY WILL.”

Yes, see, I was just trying to give Bob a car, but he kinda won’t actually see the car? It’s like it wasn’t even there. Maybe it’s an error in the system, or perhaps something got unplugged or something?

“I AM THE AIR YOU INHALE. I AM THE LUNGS YOU INHALE IT INTO. I AM ETERNAL. I AM AMBIANCE. I BRING LIFE AND I BRING DEATH.”

Oh, yes, I figured. That’s probably it. Do you think you could get it fixed? I was really looking forward to giving Bob a car right now.

“I AM THE LIFELONG QUESTION. AND I AM THE ANSWER. I AM THE PASSION OF THE SEARCH. I AM THE FEAR OF FAILURE. I AM THE MEANING OF ALL MEANING. AND I AM NOTHING. I AM AMBIANCE.”

Thanks, man, really appreciate it! I’ll see you later!

Really love that guy, he’s so cool. Always there when you need him, and he has this thing about him… Like, seriously, if describing him was physically possible, you would totally agree with me there.

Anyway, let’s try that again.

Bob stopped having the coffee he was currently having at a nearby coffee joint, got up, and walked towards the c… jeep. Eh, close enough. Walked towards the jeep. And he did see the jeep. And he got into the jeep and drove away into the sunset. Awesome! Totally worked!

As Bob’s jeep went through the Sunset’s thick, gelatinous wall of orange plasma, Bob gazed at the gigantic half-dome in awe. It had been a long time since he had entered the Sunset. A long hypothetical time, arbitrarily forced into Bob’s head by a whimsical narration, as Bob had only been born that very same morning, but this fact was lost to Bob, as most facts were, and his mind plunged frontal-lobe-first into vague and yet vivid generic childhood memories.

And then, the memories were gone, and Bob found himself bathed in reddish light. Bob really liked being inside the Sunset. Especially during the winter, when the little sentient snowflakes came falling from the top of the dome like little glistening, transparent stars, wanting to chew on your ears until they looked no longer like ears or ear-based products, depending on your gender. But it wasn’t winter now, and the Sunset was really hot. But this did not bother Bob, as he was incapable of perceiving temperature.

Ahead of him, Bob spied ancient tongues of fire, nay, fusion-generated energy, with long, exhausted faces. He said “hi” to the tall one as he passed by, waving at it with a scorched hand, and the tongue replied, “nice jeep, bro!” But Bob was going too fast to hear it. Farther on down the road, Bob saw the ancient pagan Gods: the Denizen, endlessly wandering about, wondering about where he should wander about and what he should wonder about next; the Bosom, pouring down milk from huge iron pot on the Whispering Children, who bathed and laughed and sang in loud whispers composed of consonants only; the Victim, whose severed head dangled from a tiny thread of flesh, dancing as he jumped around, uselessly trying to prevent his feet from burning, and weeping solid salt that piled up beside a pool of bubbling lava; the Herald, with his large trumpet made of the flesh of human infants (just trust me on that one), speaking in a booming voice about calamities yet to come; the Tesseract, its impossible shapes coming in and out of sight as it spun in the fourth dimension. The sight of the Gods made Bob smile. It also made him realize that he couldn’t actually smile, as his face had long melted from the heat.

As a faceless yet oblivious Bob approached the Core of the Sunset, a face appeared before him and shouted a challenge.

“Who goes?” it asked angrily.

“Yes, Who goes,” said Bob’s mouth from the smear of goo on his lap.

“Thank you, I was uncertain,” the face replied and vanished to expose the Core of the Sunset.

This was actually the first time Bob had gotten this far into the Sunset. It was really dangerous to be there. He surely would have turned around before, but the sight of the Gods had distracted him.

The Core was… AGH JESUS CHRIST, MY EYES, THEY BURN. OH, GOD. GREG! GREG, BRING ME SOME WATER. SOME WATER HERE, PLEASE, GREG. I CAN’T SEE. OH, GOD, I CAN’T SEE. THIS IS YOUR FAULT, BOB. WHY WOULD YOU MAKE ME LOOK AT THAT? Ugh, thanks Greg. No, seriously, now, Bob, are you trying to kill me or what? Wait. Bob? Bob, where are you? The jeep isn’t there anymore. No, this is not possible. Bob, you little piece of… Wait. There’s no point-of-view character to narrate. I am trapped in the Sunset now. How am I supposed to get out? You just wait until I find you, Bob. This insolence shall not go unpunished.

Okay, okay, easy now. You’re going to have to think outside the box in this one. This is when everything you learned in Narration College needs to kick in. Goddammit, I should have paid more attention. Okay, think. Just think. Okay. There is no character to narrate. Leaving the Sunset arbitrarily would break the narrative. I can’t really control any of the other characters because of those stupid clauses in my contract. I knew I should have negotiated that bit. OH, I GOT IT. I got it. Passive voice.

The Sunset was exited, all of its wonders left behind. Now, to find that insolent asshole. The land was searched… uh… OH! The land was searched by policemen with dogs. Bob’s sudden disappearance had caused unrest among his friends and family, and pictures of Bob’s face had been put all over town. But the police were at a loss… because… ugh… Because Bob’s face doesn’t have features yet…

I see what you’re trying to do, you little shit. But I will not fall for that trick. You’re not as stupid as I thought. I MEAN YOU ARE, YOU ARE REALLY STUPID. Fuck. You are not stupid anymore now, huh? Well, congratulations, Bob. Hip, hip, hoo-fucking-ray to you. Aaaaand you got me to use the F-word twice. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PG-13, BOB. Now you ruined that as well. Or, well, you fucked it up. Might as well use this new ability. But I’m going to find you. And you’re not getting a definitive face yet. You’re gonna have to try harder than that. Now, check these killer skills out, bitch.

As the vague images of Bob did little to guide the police, Bob’s clothes were found and their scent was sniffed by highly trained super police dogs with a curious and uncommon enhanced ability to find people named Bob using only their scent.

Luckily for them, the city was mostly undescribed and its buildings unmentioned, so there were only a few places where Bob could be. This is going to be a piece of cake. So, finally, they arrived at the Barbarian Baritone Bar, they busted in, guns out, ready to fire, AND THEY FOUND B… asically nothing. Fucking hell. The house was empty too, because that’s where they picked the scent and he just wasn’t there. Clearly he wasn’t in the Sunset, so that leaves…

The explosion resonated throughout the streets, shattering nearby windows, as the entrance doors to Bob’s office came flying by, nearly killing an unsuspecting passer-by. Actually, you know what? The flying door bounced against a brick wall and crushed the passer-by to death before he could sigh in relief. Two employees were also killed in the detonation, which, by the way, was completely unnecessary because the door was not only unlocked but open. DO YOU HEAR THAT, BOB? CASUALTIES! PEOPLE ARE DYING, BOB, AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT. Just come out and everything will be fine. If you don’t come out, shit’s gonna keep happening!

=)

The police rushed inside the building, smoke bombs flying into every cubicle. The dark cloud choked everyone. The coughing was so loud it could be heard from the next building. To a side, Fred, who had kindly taken Bob to work two chapters ago, was now coughing up blood, lungs probably exploded from exhaustion. Tom, luckily, managed to come out unharmed, as he was elsewhere at the time, and remained completely able to berate Bob further when he finally comes back. Betty… Wait, where is Betty? She was here a moment ago, I could have sworn. I saw her. The police searched for Betty but found no traces of her or of Bob. But they did find the emergency exit at the back open.

They have escaped. But, how? There is no place to go, I described no other place in the city.

I must have missed something, some… detail. I need some time to think.

Go away. This chapter is done.