#i gotta get them out of me brain or they WILL eat my internal organs little by little

[qrevo]

bulding your oc's house on minecraft is therapeutic

[qhazomb]

so after making the “frenrey but like ‘john carpenter’s the thing but if the alien was a gamer and had a crush on macready’” joke so many times... whoops i’m thinking about a hlvrai/the thing crossover au ha ha wouldn’t follow the exact plot of the movie, but some scenes from it would still be present. like the alien, in this case benrey, first showing up to the american base in the form of a husky dog while being chased and shot at by the two survivors from the norwegian base, and the blood test scene because that scene fuckin’ rips in this au, it wouldn’t end with everybody killed/assimilated/freezing to death. in this au, the alien catches feelings and the ending is decidedly happier. well, except for the people who do still get assimilated, anyway. benny boy gotta eat, y’know.

there’s not enough members of the science team to fill all the roles of the characters from the movie... which just means that i can fill the extra roles out with some red shirts for benrey to snack :) not sure about everybody’s roles, ‘cept gordon is obviously in mac’s place, and tommy cares for the sled dogs. (also the dogs don’t die in this. benrey doesn’t have the exact same goals as the alien in the movie, and thus doesn’t try to assimilate the other dogs. nobody ever kills the dogs to prevent people from leaving either) at first benrey’s motives are “fix/build ship to get the fuck off this planet”, but when he gets to the american base... something about some of the humans there piques his interest. especially gordon. he doesn’t try to assimilate them, instead choosing to just observe them, both from his dog form and some of the split off bodies he accumulates after assimilating and impersonating some of the other, less interesting humans at the base. his first human victim at the base is forzen. sorry forzen, you get thing-a-fied right away. (doing this based on my headcanon for normal hlvrai where there was no ‘forzen’, that was just benrey puppeting a random soldier for Pranks). nobody ever notices there being something off with forzen, both due to benrey having access to forzen’s memories, and the fact that nobody else at the base really knew him that well to begin with. also, benrey gets his way of speaking from forzen, and uses forzen’s voice whenever he’s speaking in a human language while not impersonating a specific human. he blames his interest in gordon on all the human brains he assimilated messing with his own feelings. because, uh?? finding a person who isn’t even his own species attractive??? not to mention benrey’s not even an organism that needs to engage in sexual or romantic relationships in the first place??? he blames the humans he absorbed for these feelings. but he doesn’t like, complain about these feelings. he’s totally down with them, in fact. he gets attached to tommy, after all the good pets and cuddles and scritches tommy gave his dog body. who knew being petted felt so great? darnold gets off the hook, because tommy really likes darnold, and benrey’s eaten enough humans to know that they get really sad when another organism they care about dies. he leaves all the dogs alone for this same reason. bubby and coomer are not on the menu because benrey finds their personalities way too entertaining. with them still being separate from him, he can never predict what wild shit they’re gonna do next, and he gets such a kick out of it. everybody else in the base, tho? lookin’ like snacks. a veritable buffet of new DNA to absorb. before someone notices the red shirts are getting killed off by something (a something that they later suspect came from the norwegian base, after they go investigate it), benrey slips out of the kennel with his dog body at night to go hang in gordon’s room. at first he’s just content to just. inspect gordon. take in all his little details. ponder if the reason he finds gordon attractive can be attributed to the taste of someone he ate at the norwegian base, or if he’s developed his own unique preferences. but then gordon wakes up and sees the dog sitting there staring up at him. he’s confused about how the fuck the dog got out of the pen, but is too tired to take it back. so he just pats the space on the bed by him and invites the pup up and benrey is internally ‘holy shit oh my god aaaa???’ and gladly hops on up for some Choice Snuggles. gordon doesn’t bother to stop this from being a nightly thing, because dog is warm and they’re in fucking antarctica, you do the math. he is completely unsure what to think, though, when he discovers that the very affectionate dog he’s been cuddling with every night is actually a shape-shifting alien horror that’s been slowly eating and impersonating his fellow researchers. when the surviving humans start making a plan of action to find and kill the alien menace, benrey is conflicted. he could go ahead and just eat them all, take the base for himself, and get to building his ship to get back to space... but he LIKES (most of) the humans that are left. he’s developed a major case of the Human Emotions and would feel bad if he ate these guys. :( eventually he chooses to reveal himself to just gordon, during a rare moment when he’s able to catch gordon alone (the humans started keeping close together when they realized a bodysnatcher was among them), and tries to be as non-threatening as physically possible while doing so. tries to explain that he wants to be friends, and only ate those guys (and the guys at the norwegian base) because he had to. survival instincts and shit. he was in a real bad ship crash and his very injured body got frozen in ice for god knows HOW long and he had a whole lot of energy replenishing and DNA adjusting to do. put down the flamethrower please and thank you? for friend benry? also, benrey picked “benry” as his human/earth name, based on tommy naming his dog body “ben” (”He just looks like a Ben to me. :)” ), and then adding the “ry” at the end himself cause all these humans he likes have two syllable names and he didn’t wanna be left out. he’s got that instinct to integrate, and if he can’t do it through assimilation, he can try and do it through social conventions at least! even if human social behavior is a little hard for him to grasp/get right sometimes. also also, he’s still a gamer. but doesn’t discover that he likes video games until after he absorbs and impersonates forzen. his forzen body gets invited to play some video games with the other guys during break times, and he falls in love instantly. “brooooo how come none of the other sapients i’ve eaten ever invented video games??? humans are so good at having fun wtf. this is the best. i love video games.” AND THAT’S ALL THE THOUGHTS I’VE GOT ABOUT THE AU SO FAR. i only JUST started seriously thinking about it last night, so. not too solid yet.

[cdarkheartzero]

Today’s theme-

“Diary of a security guard part 4- “His own legs”

Data log entry 6553

I barely even started my shift before I got the news. Three smeets had disappeared at some point during the night and -OF COARSE- the little shit was one of them.

Receiving the names of Zim and Skoodge wasn’t surprising. Those two were always together and up to something but I was shocked when the keeper said “Smeet Tak”. TAK? She was usually fairly well behaved. Few fights here and there, sure but this? Especially because she hates Zim. Why would she join them? At least that’s what I hoped for anyway.

Since the “snack heist” episode, I assumed the boys were off to find another “treasure chest” of pure sugar so I figured I would check the pantries first. They weren’t stupid enough to do the same closet twice in a row but I would bet my monies that’s where they were.

[[MORE]]

Stumbled down the halls when I noticed a door slightly left ajar. Yup. There they were. As I approached I could hear a conversation being had between Tak and Zim. GOOD. I can grab them all at once. I slowly opened the door juuuust enough to squeeze my body through and crept in behind boxes , eyeing the mess of once-again ripped open junk food and wrappers littering the floor. I sat behind a rather large box (big enough to shield me from sight at the very least) and waited for the opportunity to pounce.

Skoodge was sitting on the floor very much invested in the “ploof puffs” he was shoving into his adorable chubby face. Not really paying much mind to the other two. Zim and Tak sat atop two boxes staring each other down. Tak had her back to me and Zim was so fixated on his enemy, that he didn’t notice me peeking out from the box behind her. I could see on Zim’s face that SOMETHING said before my arrival was eating at him. The conversation continued-

“I’m telling you the truth, Zim.”

“There is NO WAY you did it on your own, Tak.”

“You think I’m lying? Or is your pride eating away at you because I’m clearly the superior soldier to-be?”

“There is NO WAY YOU would hurt my pride. BESIDES, how could someone with your intellectual shortcomings accomplish something soldiers are trained YEARS to do?!”

“Okay, fine. This will shut you up, you reject!”

I couldn’t see her face but she stood straight and her body tighten, I could see her fists turning pale by the amount of pressure she was putting on them. The ports on her back slowly opened and her PAK legs menacingly emerged. Awkwardly crawling out and wobbling as the touched the ground and lifted her mid air.

Skoodge panicked and fled at the sight of the thin, metallic limbs- having never seen or been told about these things prior, this must have been quite terrifying. And it’s true. I was shocked myself. The shit was right. Irken soldiers are taught how to use these well into their military training and it takes a tremendous amount of skill and concentration to activate. For a smeet this was basically unheard of. Tak May very well be the most advanced smeet in Irken history.

Zim was.... far from impressed. He puffed his cheeks and pouted quietly as Tak spat insult after insult to him, Landing harsh and pride crushing comments. I almost felt sorry. It wasn’t until one of her legs abandoned its position of stabilizer and shakily made its way toward Zim’s throat that I knew I had to step in NOW.

Not wanting to use my taser on her, I did the next best thing. I took my boot off and smacked it on the PAK leg closest to me, knocking her off balance and bringing her hurdling downwards. The PAK legs quickly retreated back into their holder and the small Irken was left confused and slightly stunned by the secret attack.

Skoodge ran over to me, tears in his eyes, wailing about the scary legs. He clung to my foot tight. Real tight. Kid has a good grip. I (and my newfound leech) walked over to Tak to picked her up. She just stared at the floor, quickly blinking and not saying a word. Man.... I got her good. I put her to my chest and she didn’t budge. It was unnerving to say the least but she was still alive so.... I just gotta gather the last one.

Zim was spaced out. Totally lost in thought. Didn’t even twitch when I approached him. Seeing those legs really internally triggered something. I scoop him up and stare. I might have well had not been there as far as he was concerned. He was gone from this place.

We get back to the smeetery and I drop off Zim and Skoodge (Skoodge waved me good-bye too. He is so cute sometimes) and made my way to the medical ward with Tak. Just to make sure I didn’t mess her up too bad, you know? The staff there assured me she was okay and just stunned but I told them to keep her for testing anyway. Can’t have that on my conscience.

By the time I got back to the smeetery, Zim was gone and Skoodge was alone, doing some light reading in the form of a cooking magazine. Where he got it, I didn’t ask. It was unusual to see these two separated though. “Where is Zim?” I asked confused. “Hmmm?” He hummed with a slight jump. Must’ve startled him. “Zim wanted to go to the tube room. Is Tak okay?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. She’s fine. You okay though?”

“Yeah. That was just scary.”

“They really aren’t. Just another tool we have to protect ourselves and aid ‘n battle. One day you will be trained to use yours too.”

His eyes lit up in wonder and confusion “I HAVE THEM TOO?????”

“Yup. But it’s totally normal you can’t use them yet though. The fact that Tak could is real unusual. I know you’ll get there.” I said ruffling his antenna. He let out a laugh and smiled “Thanks”

“Anytime. Imma see what the little shit is up to.”

“HAVE FUN!” He joyfully waved as I walked away. Skoodge is unusual too. Now that I think about it, everyone associated with the little shit is so quirky. This batch of smeets...they really do have bright futures ahead of them.

Walking through the doors to the usually silent unborn sleeping chambers, the room echoed with low, muffled grunts and heavy breathing. I know this voice. I just had to find him.

Tucked off to one of the corners of the massive room, Zim was doubled over panting, clutching at his chest. His PAK opened and his legs partially exposed, spazzing and sparking, filling the air around him with a dangerous electrical charge. Never in all my life have I seen a PAK respond this way. His body seized, confulsing constantly. His eyes welled with tears, sweat dripping down his entire frame. Veins bulged out of his skin.

Here is something ya gotta know about Irken anatomy. PAKs serve as a second brain and is connected to the organic brain through the spine by a series of wires. Some things are only possible BECAUSE of this connection. Like using PAK legs. The host needs to be able to simultaneously create a gateway both consciously and subconsciously to allow data to flow between the two. Using the legs as an extension of their organic bodies. Being able to tell each of the 4 legs to move independently but having enough focus to not completely be distracted by it. Kinda like breathing. Your brain knows to do it automatically. But if you wanted to, you could alter its patterns. Except a loss of control would mean a comrade getting empaled. Concentration and data input is everything. I’m gettin side tracked though, I didn’t even know it was POSSIBLE to see the bridge between the two minds. But here they were. I could see every ridge, every curve of the wiring violently throbbing.

This is bad. THIS IS SO BAD.

I tried to grab him- he needed medical attention ASAP. WHAT ON IRK WAS HAPPENING!? But as I reached for him, the legs became defensive and started stabbing in my direction. The electrical charge strengthened too. Zim coiled into himself more. He wanted to scream. I could see it in his face. But every time he opened that yap of his- there was nothing.

Oh, My tallest. The closer I got to him, the more his PAK simultaneously defended/harmed him. I screamed for help. Someone.... ANYONE, please. Come! I have no idea what’s going on!

“....z-zara....” I heard faintly between gasps and groans. He reached his hand to me. FUCK THIS. I cannot let the suffering go on any longer. I’m sorry, Zim. But I gotta do this.

I grabbed my taser out and gave his PAK a short jolt, praying that it would short circuit and reboot. His legs stabbed into my hand before going limp, just like the rest of him. The bright pink lights emminating from his back faded to a faint, dim color. But it was still lit. Please. PLEASE. Be okay.

There was a moment of silence. Felt like a decade though, wondering if it worked. Or if I just made the worst mistake of my career.

“REACTIVATING”

The PAK light shone bright again and gave the body a single jolt. The legs instantly retracted. He stirred, groaning. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times, not a single word spoken between us. He looked at me, pained and spiritually drained. “Zara....” he finally said.

I grabbed him and gave him a hug. I was so relieved. He was okay. He just accepted my embrace. He didn’t have the strength to fight. Slowly pulling him away, I could finally speak. “Imma take you to the medical station, okay?” He replied with a humm. Response accepted.

The smeetery staff rushed in (it was so hard to believe only a moment had passed In real time) but I took it upon myself to hand deliver him where he needed to be. It was a long, unsettlingly uncomfortable walk. But this.... I wanted to be here. I needed to. Unfortunately, we soon arrived to the medical station and I finally had to hand him off and return to my shift. I didn’t wanna leave him. Not one bit. I can’t even imagine how he was feeling. But I have a job to do. We gave each other a sad look as we parted. There was a slight pain in my chest the whole time.

The rest of the day dragged on what seemed like years but within a few hours, Zim had been released from care and returned to the Smeetery by a member of the medical staff. She just silently walked in, spoke to a smeetery staff member, placed him on the floor and disappeared. I was thrilled (I would never tell him that though). But I can tell he was still deeply upset. I approached him and asked if he was okay. His eyes said more than his words ever could. I picked him up. I honestly don’t have a game plan but... he needs a few minutes to breathe, I think.

I wave to another guard and ask her to take my place. She saw the smeet I held close and said “fine. But you owe me one.” Wouldn’t be the first time Kira helped me out. She was probably the closest thing to a friend I had in this place. I thanked her and took my leave. Zim didn’t really ask any questions. Just kinda went for the ride.

We wound up in a pantry. I sat down on the cold floor and put him next to me. This... was awkward. I couldn’t figure out what to say or do. Or even why I wound up HERE of all places. Why not my office???? Thankfully, he tore me away from my thoughts and broke the ice.

“Why are we here? Don’t you usually want Zim OUT of the pantry?”

“Uhhhhhh.... you looked like you needed a few minutes to breathe.”

He hugged his knees. “Zim is fine.”

There was that silence again. I’m the adult here. I gotta do something....right?

“You know, the thing with Tak has never happened before.”

“Just rub it in...” he mumbled burying his face into his legs.

“But, you were able to pull yours out too. Even just a little. That’s impressive too.”

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but mine tried to kill me.”

“Maybe yours are just-“

“The medical staff-“ he cut me off “told me I might never be able to use them right. That Zim might be “defective”.”

I was agitated to say the least. How can you say something like that to a smeet? A BABY? This little soul who just began living this life he never asked for? My emotions got the best of me. “Listen here, Zim. Maybe you can’t use your legs the way she does. Or the way I do. But I know you will find a way. You have never bowed down when the odds were stack against you before. Why start now?”

He didn’t stir. I passionately rambled on “you are a lot of things. Cunning. Manipulative. Obsessive. Persuasive. Passionate. But you are damn smart. I’m constantly surprised by your ingenuity and craftsmanship. You know how good I am at dismantling your bombs at this point? You challenge those around you to grow and be better. I wish you WOULDN’T challenge me with explosives, mind you, but you aren’t defective. No way, no how. You are different. And no one said different is bad. Just means you leave your mark in ways no one expected before. And maybe that scares some but.... I believe that you can do amazing things. And screw em If they don’t see it.”

He let out a small chuckle. It was refreshing to hear, even if it was a sad, emotionally drained laugh.

“Does that mean you don’t hate me?”

“I didn’t say all that now.”

He smiled with sorrow and hugged himself tighter.

Maybe that was a little too deep. I was actually kinda embarrassed for that. But.... perhaps I could say something else to make him feel better. “You know” I started “when I have a bad day, I like to look at the stars. You can’t see them here but they always put me at ease.”

“Stars?”

“Yeah. They exist outside the planet, in space. Burning, exploding balls of chemicals. Mostly hydrogen and helium. But from Irk’s surface, they are just beautiful bright lights littering the sky. You can’t see them everywhere here ‘cuz of the brightness of the surface’s refelection in our atmosphere. But I came from the sugar mines before I was a guard. It’s a lot less industrial and darker there so it was always so much easier to see.”

“Burning balls? Really?” He scoffed, amused and confused but intrigued.

“I guess tellin’ you about ‘em doesn’t do it justice. Here. Let me show you. Computer.”

My PAK lit up and released a small floating, mechanical ball with a small circular screen used for projections. Zim just stared. “Show us stars.”

As instructed, the screen painted a gorgeous night sky (as “night” as Irken pink skies get anyway) glistening with hundreds of stars. Zim stared, taken aback. There was a slight sparkle in his face. Good. This helped. Thank the Tallest. The projection stayed active for only a moment before I thought it was enough. Without saying anything, the orb returned to where it had come from.

“You okay?” I finally asked, knowing the answer already but hoping for the best.

“.... can we stay here a little bit longer?”

I can tell in his voice, he was embarrassed. Ashamed. Depressed. Confused. Self-loathing. His whole world thrown in a blender. “Sure” I said pulling him closer to my leg. I kept my hand on his back, gently stroking it. Imagine my surprise when he accepted my compassion and snuggled up to me.

I couldn’t tell what he was thinking but all my organic brain kept repeating was “just be there for him.” I dunno what this feeling in my spooch could have been but it felt knotted and twisted at the sight of his misery. I had to look away. What is this smeet? Why does he make me feel this way? Do I have a bug? Is this something else I don’t understand? ...You know what? It’s Best not to think too much about it, I guess. Just take in this silence with the little shit. He will be back to his old self tomorrow I bet.

Zara signing off

[morningsound15]

hi! i’m a major fan of yours across several fandoms (bechloe, fuffy, hermione/anyone 👀) and i’m always really impressed with your ability to jump around fandoms while telling these very complete stories with awesome characterizations. any chance you’d be willing to share what your process is like for preparing to write a story? thank you for sharing your work! really enjoy it.

asks like this are so so sweet! compliments AND writing process questions at the same time is just *chef’s kiss*

i got a similar question to this in a comment on one of my stories a few weeks back, i hope you don’t mind that i’ve lifted some of this from that answer!

when i’m starting a new fic, these are the 3 basic things i focus on (not always consciously, this is just how my brain works):

characterization (who is the story about/why is the story being told)

plot (what story is being told)

and form (how is the story being told)

(this is long! more under the cut)

CHARACTERIZATION: the first thing i do is try to get a feel for how the characters think and speak. so the first thing i’ll write is usually something light and banter-y between two main characters. i find that story beats, reactions, emotions, etc. (all important parts of scenes) flow from me much more easily if i have a good feel for the characters and how they interact with each other. for example, the first scene i record in a voice note on my phone or dump in a word document might be: character A and B are eating breakfast the morning after sleeping together for the first time. they haven’t talked about it yet. they are trying to hide what they did from the other people in the room while trying to subtly see how the other one is acting

writing a scene like this would help me figure out a few important things about my characters, like how they interact with each other when they need to be covert (are they embarrassed? flirty? ashamed? cold? nervous? blushing?), how their friends might or might not pick up on their dynamic, and most importantly it lets me practice the pace of how the characters speak and the basic nature of their conversation styles with each other (do they crack jokes, are they unnecessarily cruel, do they openly flirt, is there a competitive undertone, exasperated fondness, etc.?).

people should be able to understand everything important about your characters from the way they speak and hold themselves in a scene. having the characters’ voices, rhythms, and interpersonal banter down is really important in making sure that whatever is happening in your story is compelling. if the characters feel real, the plot will feel real, and you can hook people into reading stories for fandoms they otherwise wouldn’t.

PLOT: this is kind of cheating, since i GUESS technically ‘plot’ is the first step to preparing to write a story, but to me, the most fundamental thing you need to have down to write fic is an understanding of the characters. you can use whatever tried-and-true soulmate/fake dating/bed sharing/alternate universe tropes you want, but the thing that makes or breaks a story is its characters, so that’s why i put that part first.

but okay, talking about plot. for me what comes first is less ‘plot’ than ‘situation’. 

here’s an example: i decided a while back that i desperately want to write a sansa x margaery hogwarts au. has it been done before? yes. does it sound fun? yes, and also, i love writing hp universe, and i love sansa stark. but the idea’s been done before, so what am i hoping to write that contributes to the genre/trope? what’s my hook? what’s my angle? what’s my read of the characters and how do i want to get them together?

i settled on this: Sansa is the first Stark in five generations to not be sorted into Gryffindor.

suddenly bam, i’m off and running. i’ve got a story universe, i’ve got a couple of characters whose voices i’m starting to settle into, i’ve got a whole cast of characters i have to suddenly squash into this alternate universe, think about what roles they should play, how THEY should speak and interact. suddenly i’m drafting scene ideas to make sure that i highlight the sibling dynamics i want between the starks, the tension between sansa and arya, sansa’s alienation and the family’s pride.

the next step is thinking about story beats. what are good tropes in hp universe stories (spell casting scenes, hogsmede scenes, quidditch scenes) -- how can i write some of these with a new fun twist? similarly, what are good tropes in romantic stories (jealousy/pining, being forced to work together when you don’t want to, romantic rivals) and how can i use these characters to pull off these tropes in a way that feels natural and novel? and of course, hugely important — when should the characters kiss for the first time? (every story’s gotta have a good first-kiss scene.)

.

i like my stories, generally, to have 2 main plots going: the romance plot between the two main characters, and the maintext plot/situational hijinx they’ve gotten themselves into. figuring out how to weave those storylines together (and ideally to have the Big Climax Scenes Converge Somehow) is tough. so i write in bursts, jumping around between chapters and paragraphs and scenes, cutting whole sections and shuffling them around constantly.

FORM: the first drafts of my chapters are mostly dialogue; i go back in and add actions and internal monologue as some of the last things that i do. scene transitions are also some of the last things i write, or beginnings/endings to scenes. that’s just a personal preference.

i don't tend to write linearly. i guess you could say i write in a vignette style; that’s why most of my fics are organized with individual scenes divided by a textual break, rather than long continuous stream of consciousness/linear time. this allows me a lot of freedom in my writing; if something isn’t working at the end of a scene, or if i can’t figure out a way to transition between moments/times of day, i can just add a text break in. easy as pie. it keeps my stories tighter (lol i know they’re so long who am i kidding) and lets me move things along.

while i jump around a lot, writing scenes that strike me when they strike me, filling in the gaps here and there as i go along, i do like to make some important decisions early on. i think about tracing the arc of the main relationship — are they interested in each other right away, what are the obstacles to them being together, is there going to be an issue with sexuality/queerness or is that a non-issue in this universe? — stuff like that. i think really important scene ideas to have early on (if i’m writing fic, obviously this applies strictly to writing fanfiction romance stories, which are already pretty trope-filled (that’s not a read i love tropes)) are the scenes that Change the direction of the story: the get-together scene and the plot climax. having an understanding of how those crucial scenes are going to play out means that i can make sure that all the writing before those scenes is building in the correct direction.

that doesn’t mean i stick to my outline, or that i’m afraid to change things up! on the contrary. i like to have an idea of where my story is going to end up as i'm writing, because then i can shape the characters and let them grow in a way that naturally arrives at the conclusion. but of course the conclusion is usually just an idea, a vague notion (‘they break out of the curse dimension’ or ‘they’re going off to college uncertain but hopeful’). i avoid writing the end of the story until the very end because the natural conclusion changes as my story goes through more drafts and i get a better feel for the characters. i also like to see how the readers are reacting to the story, what they're noticing, what questions they still have that i need to answer, if there are any scenes that aren't coming across the way i want them to, that sort of thing.

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and one last note for fic writers -- this is what i always think about as i’m writing/about to write a story: why am i writing this story? what am i trying to say, how am i trying to better understand the characters or deepen my understanding of canon with this? am i adding to canon or just repeating it? is this personal catharsis, meaningless smut, a bittersweet fix-it?

readers are smart, and most importantly, they’re fans! they’re coming to fic from consuming the original product! they don’t want what they’ve just seen regurgitated to them. take risks in your stories! know the characters, dig deep into their relationships and get inside their heads. if you’ve got the characters down you’ve got everything you need to write a good fic.

mostly i just hope people come away from my stories satisfied by what they've read.

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you all know me, i write for any fandom i want to with no rhyme or reason. i have a lot of ideas and varied interests. but i don’t speak a TON about my role as fanfic consumer, so i wanna do that.

fanfiction, for me, is a way of better understanding these things that i love. i come to fanfiction after i finish a show or video game, if i’m revisiting childhood movies or books. ao3 is one of the first places i go after i finish watching something, because i am enchanted by the way fans take characters that exist and with just a few twists of a word or a look, they change the meaning completely, elevate canon, or flesh out side characters that basically had nothing going for them. and because when i finish something i love i don’t want it to be over. sometimes that means i write, sometimes that means i read, but i always go to fic. i love it, it’s comforting and beautiful.

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phew! that was long-winded. thanks for the ask!! sorry for the word vomit

(also yes hermione/anyone aka hermione/happiness)

[shmisolo]

I wanted to post the things I’ve made this year in one place.  I haven’t posted most of them over here—largely because I’m not tumblring a lot these days.  But I made a lot this year—both visual and written—that I’m proud of and wanted to share it out.  You can find this post also in tweet form here!

Happy 2020, Reylo friends!  It’s been a wild ride of a year, and mine couldn’t have been what it has been without you.

Visual

Alternate TROS Ending Gifset | World Between Worlds Graphic | Padmé quote gifset | Hadestown AU |  Alfa Gifset | ManDADlorian Video | Rey & Dark Rey Gifset 1 | Rey & Dark Rey Gifset 2 | Rey & Padmé Gifset | Rey Gifset 1 | Rey Gifset 2 | Rey Gifset 3 | Rey Gifset 4 | Rey Gif | Trailer Gifset 1| Trailer Gifset 2 | Trailer Gifset 3 | Kylo’s Karaoke Night Playlist | Graphic for lwaboc for @kylorenvevo | Graphic for Heart’s Flight | Graphic for YTCShepard | Gifs for Sugar, Honey, Honey for YTCShepard | Gifs for @sciosophia | Game of Thrones AU Graphic | Luke Gifset

Oneshots

Investiture for @misscoppelia

In which Ben goes to daven for his father’s yahrtzeit and manages to prove to himself once again that he is both a terrible person and a terrible Jew.

Oh and he sort of falls in love.

baby you can drive my car for @talltig

They call them “soulmates.” Probably because it leaves less of a sting in their mouths.

The Kitchen for flypaper_brain

Rey and Ben, hunting for their first house.

alone with a heart meant for you for @nuanceismyjam

Ben orders Grubhub; Rey's car breaks down.

myosotis for @rissanox

Ben picked the flowers for their wedding.

and beyond for @lilithsaur

“Please?”

For a moment, he thinks it will be like the first time, him begging, her crying and saying no and him not knowing how to protect his crushed heart.

But she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t say, “Please don’t go this way,” she doesn’t look horrified or disgusted. She just grabs him by the front of his shirt and tugs his lips down to hers before reaching down to cup his cock.

You, Me, and He for @rissanox, @persimonne, and @misscoppelia

When they say that Kylo's brain is in his groin, they're not far from the truth.

Alternatively,

In which Kylo Ren is his own penis.

Bliss, Balance and Birth for @selunchen​

Ben teaches their daughter to read.

💦💦💦💦

In which Ben accidentally implies that he gets his cardio from having sex on national television.

Favorites for @lilithsaur

In which Matt is preoccupied in getting Daisy the perfect token of his love on this, the two month anniversary of her agreeing to be his girlfriend.

A Trash Triplets AU.

Gotta Get Up, Gotta Get Out | Moodboard

“Listen asshole,” Rey says as she steps through the door of Poe’s deli. “You have exactly as long as it takes me to buy these cigarettes.”

Ben doesn’t waste a second breathing. “Metaphysically speaking, you and I are intrinsically and inexplicably linked,” he starts because there’s no time for beating around the bush and besides, Rey can sniff out a lie like no one else. “And I'm convinced our true purpose is to to connect with each other, if not help save each other's lives.” She’s opening her wallet and handing Poe a ten. “In another world, hopefully you are doing the same for me.”

The Other Thing for @persimonne

That’s what they don’t warn you about, he thinks idly. In his DesEd class, they’d warned him about knots, and heats, and ruts, and nesting. But they’d never warned him that her home would smell so much like her, like everything he’s ever wanted, that he would be unable to extricate himself.

“Can you make it a little more interesting in like...thirty minutes?” he asks her.

She pulls away and he immediately regrets saying a damn word.

“I could make that work,” she replies dryly. “I’ll pencil you in.”

A for... for @loveofescapism

Rey’s seeing double by the time there’s food on her plate. Oh. There’s food on her plate. That’s good. That’s unexpected at this point. “Eat,” Ben tells her.

So she does. It tastes good. Very good. She likes this food a lot.

“I’ll make sure she knows,” Ben says.

Oh she’s at that point of drunk where she’s just saying things out loud instead of keeping them in her internal monologue.

“You are,” Ben says, looking very amused.

She hopes she doesn’t say anything embarrassing.

“I promise, you haven’t yet, but oh boy, I’m looking forward to this.”

She shoves food into her mouth to keep herself from thinking out loud about his dick in her ass at his mother’s Passover seder.

do or do not (do the do)

In which Ben, in an effort to improve his stamina (look he's making progress, ok?) after reading some articles that he'll never be able to unread, receives some coaching (that he very much did not ask for).

(Very much did not ask for.)

(Not) Interested for @thewayofthetrashcompactor, @monsterleadmehome, @destiniesfic, yuktipatipriya

We're bringing Speed Dating back to Space Battles Bonanza! Register online for one of our special Bonanza sessions of 15 three-minute dates so you’ll no longer have to look for love in a galaxy far far away. Choose from one of seven speed dating sessions, two of which are queer focused. If the Insurgents can blow up the Doom Moon in 11 minutes, let’s see if you can make a love connection in only three.

There’s a history of successful Speed Dating at Space Battles Bonanzas, with long-term couples, engagements and marriages now among the alumni.

--

In which Rey & Kylo meet at their fancon's speed dating.

Never Die for @avamarga

Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise? I thought not. It’s not a story the Jedi would tell you.

Forged for @reyloner

There are several reasons that Ben would never have dreamed he’d ever receive this text. The first is that he’d be invited to a Halloween party. The second is that he’d never in his life expected to be in a serious relationship, much less the sort of serious relationship where his partner would suggest matching Halloween costumes. And the last is that he is dating someone who’s show only and they’ve only almost murdered one another twice. Because he’s an A Song of Ice and Fire fan. He hates Game of Thrones.

and getting caught in the rain for @kylorenvevo

What's the point of going to a family wedding if you're not going to hook up with your newly rediscovered brother's baseball coach?

A Picture's Worth for @selunchen

reyjay: hiya your art is amazing

reyjay: it’s a big ask but could you draw me for my art final tomorrow? i’m shit at drawing people and i can’t fail this. can you help?

He stares.

And stares.

And stares.

kyloren: is this some kind of a joke?

reyjay: no?? why??

kyloren: you’re asking me to help you cheat your exam, but you’re not even offering me money?

Bang for your Buck

“We ready?” he asks her, sounding huffy.

“Nice to meet you Ben, I’m just familiarizing myself with your training,” she replies.

“Ok, well I don’t have all day.”

“No, you have,” she checks her watch, “another hour.” Because of course he’d booked an extra long session. Bless that sweet, sweet overtime pay.

“And you’re sure you know what you’re doing?” he asks her and she glances up at him, sure that her eyes are flashing because that’s fucking rude. She’s a professional. Amilyn wouldn’t have hired her if she didn’t know what she’s doing, and just because he apparently thinks he’s the center of the universe doesn’t change that fact.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your bang for your buck,” she tells him icily.

Two to Tango

Rey: I need to ask you something awkward. Ben: What’s up? Rey: Can I give you a blowjob? Please?

atlanta > all atlanta > community > missed connections for @sand-its-everywhere

In which Rey meets a cosplayer at DragonCon.

Sonsick (I'll fall for you soon enough) for @jeenonamit & YTCShepard

Sheev and Snoke share a moment at the country club.

A Thousand Words for @monsterleadmehome | Moodboard

In which, some years later, Ben encounters someone he drew for nudes.

Truth and Death written for this year’s @reylofanfictionanthology

Ben opens the box. Inside, he sees the charred remains of a helmet.

------------

She is made of sand-turned-clay, where other moving creatures are made of flesh and blood. Their skin cracks in the dry Jakku sun just like hers, but they are alive in their organs.

Rey is alive in a different way.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year written with @jeenonamit | Moodboard

Rey convinces Ben--and his sentient penis--to go with her to a Halloween party.

What could go wrong?

(Working title: "Dicklo 2: Electric BOO-galoo")

Shalom Rav! for @jeenonamit | Moodboard

In which Rey comes to terms realizing that she is attracted to the rabbi.

when the stars and moon align just so for @capaldisrighteyebrow

Songs spoke of red stars on nights that blood was shed. Stars bled too when the great fell. There were no red stars tonight. The stars did not bleed for Snoke.

Would they bleed for Ben?

She swallowed.

Because despite his own words—that he served his master (master, as though he were a draft horse to be yoked and plow the fields of men), that he would give everything to his master, she had seen doubt in his eyes that night, three years ago, when the stars and moon had aligned just so.

oh, my love, don't forsake me (take what the water gave me) for @reyloner and @loveofescapism

Their sabers clashed, humming in the spray, and Rey's heart was in her throat the entire time.

it’s you and me (i know it’s our destiny) | Moodboard

It’s just a kid’s game, he thinks when jealousy pangs in his heart. But it’s more than just a kid’s game.

It’s Pokémon.

It’s the only good thing in his life.

will you come when i call you (i’ll come when you call me) | Moodboard

Surely when Snoke had connected them, he hadn’t connected them like this.  

—

@reylo_prompts: “Due to the Force bond Rey and Ben always come simultaneously. Now they need to figure out how not to do that since it can result in awkward situations.”

The Sweater Curse for @jeenonamit & @commandercrouton

She’s never made a sweater before, but she saw the pattern on Ravelry and who cares if she’s only made (lumpy) hats before—she has to try it.  She has to make it. She has to make it for Ben.

“You realize that Hannukah isn’t an important holiday, right?” Ben asks as she makes eye contact with him.  His eyes are big and brown and—at this moment—mildly annoyed.

“Really?  Is it a giant conspiracy theory?  Part of the war on Christmas?”

“More than you realize,” Ben says and for the life of her she can’t tell if he’s joking.  He does this thing sometimes that’s confusing—where he’ll say something that sounds mopey but is actually snarky and it disarms her every damn time.  “In any event, ugly Hanukkah sweaters definitely aren’t a thing the way ugly Christmas sweaters are.”

“Well, they are now,” Rey says firmly.  “I’m making you an ugly Hanukkah sweater.  Deal with it. And stop moving.”

Ours Is The Fury for @reyloner & @commandercrouton

Rey was tasked with taking Storm's End for her king. She defeated the Storm King Snoke in the Rainwood, but when she proceeded to the castle itself, preparing for a long siege, things did not go to plan.

Seen ✔️✔️ for @ever-so-reylo | Graphic

His lock screen has three texts from Rey on it:

Rey Wife: Babe I know you’re probably busy right now, but you sent that pic to the wrong chat. Rey Wife: Bennnnnnn Rey Wife: Call me when you’re done processing your trauma.

And then about ninety chats from the Skywalker Ranch WhatsApp thread.

--

In which Ben sends a picture to the wrong chat.

With you, Always for @jeenonamit, @nuanceismyjam, and YTCShepard 

Rey's boyfriend is now a Force ghost but they're sure as fuck gonna try fucking anyway.

Chaptered Fics

we decided not to kill the wolves (we wanted to be wolves) for @nerdherderette | Complete | Moodboard

A pack of wolves lives in the woods to the north of Raddus and as winter looms, they have their eyes set on Leia Organa’s stronghold. Rey may be new to Raddus, but she’s not about to do nothing while it may be in danger. And besides, Poe must be exaggerating about wolves the size of bears. She’s not afraid of monsters.

Carry In My Core (That Voice I Adore) | Complete | Moodboards

Starring in her first opera would be stressful as is, but Rey, always one to outdo herself, just had to go and make things even more complicated with Kylo Ren. It’s hard enough looking him in the eye, much less pretending to be in love with him. She can make it through this. She has made it through worse. She can make it through this.

shadow boxes | Complete

Just because they aren’t together, doesn’t mean they’re not in love.

anyway you want to (anyway you've got to) | Complete

But you know she's getting something other Than the love from her mother

A Porn Challenge in which your author makes Rey and Ben bone their way through the month of February.

words like tomorrow (or future, or fate) for @haloren1st​ & @staticcatfish​ | Complete

One day, Rey wakes in a body that's not her own in a town she's never been to before. Who is Ben, whose body she seems to be possessing, and who woke up in her body? Why are they connected this way?

---

A Your name. AU.

Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations. for @valsansretour​ | Complete | Moodboard

Ben woke, but Luke’s saber wasn’t ignited. Instead, he saw a master who had shattered his trust, who thought he was a monster, and—worse—he was probably right.

So he fled Yavin IV, to Skywalker’s dismay, and no one heard from him since.

Years later, on a wasteland planet, a girl and a fugitive stormtrooper board a Corellian YT-1300 light freighter in desperation to find they are not the only ones trying to steal it.

Why Don’t You And I Combine for @ever-so-reylo | Complete | Moodboard

Rey’s phone rings while she’s at the farmer’s market. She lets it ring. They have a line and it’s only a few hours, and the girls are at school and it’s just her today, so she doesn’t have enough hands. Rose and Finn and Poe are helping Ben move furniture out of his apartment and into the house. They’re probably calling about something silly, or Ben’s calling to say he’s fully moved in and he’s lying in their bed—possibly with his hand on his cock—and that he’s thinking of her.

— 

In which life continues, grows, and Rey and Ben continue to rebuild their relationship.

A sequel to Let’s Get Together.

The Love Committee for @jeenonamit | Complete | Moodboard

In which Rey, tired of her bad luck with dating apps and failed relationships, enlists her friends' help in determining who she should date next.

They take it a little too seriously.

A Year of Me and You for autonomee | Complete

“After you move in with one another, give yourself six months to like one another again,” Maz says, looking at Rey seriously through her bottlecap glasses.

“I’m not going to fall out of love with—”

“No, no. Not love. Love’s not got anything to do with it, child. Like.”

--

Non-linear vignettes of various length, set during the first year Rey and Ben live together.

Hanging by a Moment for pillar-of-salt | Complete | Mix

There are many things that Ben could have tolerated about his parents’ divorce. That his mother had finally had it with his father’s borderline illegal—or rather, as he liked to put it, borderline legal—company, the shady activities it covered that would doubtlessly end her political career if a reporter got hold of them; that his father had finally had it with the way his mother nags, because sure, he’d thought it was hot twenty years ago, but he is in fact an adult who can actually keep his shit together—all that he would have gotten. He’d have been wrecked, but he’d have gotten it.

His dad leaving his mom for a nineteen-year-old gold-digger though, and his mother not even putting up a fight—that had caught him by surprise.

That had hurt.

Be nice to her, Ben, his mother had said on the phone when he’d spoken to her for the first time in five years. She just lost your father.

Yeah. So did I.

Cupcake Wars | Complete | Fingerpainting + Playlist

Entirely by accident, Rey ends up fucking someone who works for Snoke's Cupcakery. She's just blowing off steam. It doesn't mean anything at all. It certainly won't come back to bite her in the ass.

in nobody's eyes but mine for @ever-so-reylo | Complete | Moodboard

Rey had spent too much of her life feeling as though permanence could only be transient so why bother with it. What was long-term? What was mating? What was home?

the water won’t have ya if the devil’s too blind for @thekesselrun | Complete | Moodboard

That water’s too dirty to wash away your sins.

“They’re not sins. I didn’t commit them against god. There is no such thing as god.”

Then whatever you want to call them. Crimes don’t get washed away by a river.

“It’s a cursed river,” Ben points out.

No, it’s a polluted river. Curses aren’t real. Not like that, anyway.

“Are you really well-actually-ing me?”

Yes, I am. Because you’re an idiot. Some extremely oily and not remotely potable water is not going to be able to remove the guilt you feel about killing your father, turning your back on your mother, murdering hundreds of innocents, and helping the First Order destroy the world. Especially when you knew I wasn’t going to let you die.

–

In which Ben Solo washes up on shore, very still alive and unsure of what to do next until a passing scavenger offers him a lift on her boat. Who is he now? Who does he want to be?

Apples & Honey for @peaceblessingspeyton | Complete | Moodboard

When Ben catches wind that his mother is planning to foist a potential girlfriend on him when he comes home for Rosh Hashanah, he takes matters into his own hands: specifically, he runs to Rey and asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend.

There Is Another for @kylorenvevo | Complete | Moodboards: Ch 1 | Ch 3 | Ch 7 | Ch 9 | Ch 11 | Ch14

“Mission success?”

“You will be interested in this.”

“Oh?”

Kylo glances back over his shoulder. The girl he had found on Takodana is still deeply unconscious, and will remain so for a long while. He had knocked her out as deeply as he could. She had fired at him the moment she’d seen him, resisted him tooth and nail. He does not want her waking up until he has her properly restrained, and he had not come to Takodana prepared to take any prisoners.

A shiver runs up his spine as he tries to shove away how it had felt, carrying her through that forest.

“Yes.”

“How so?”

The trouble with helmets is he can’t look Kira dead in the eye anymore. He can’t watch her face closely to see what will happen when he tells her,

“She’s you.”

Dear Mr. President | WIP | Moodboards: Ch13

Dr. Dameron shifts and slides a manilla folder across the desk to her. “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d let you keep the folder. I hope you’ll understand why I can’t do that this time around.”

She opens it and stares.

She stares and stares and stares.

Dr. Dameron has to be kidding. There have to be hidden cameras here, this has to be some elaborate prank. That’s why it’s him here and not Dr. Wexley—that was his name. Dr. Wexley.

But instead of getting to her feet and tossing her hair and saying he was cruel for playing with her heart like this, all she does is ask, blankly, “So...Ben Solo is my soulmate? Our new president is my…”

She swallows.

And Dr. Dameron nods.

so long lives this and this gives life to thee | WIP | Moodboard

His smile fades and he falls to the ground, his head hitting the ground with a sharp crack.

“Ben!” The yell echoes around them in the darkness and Rey lurches forward, her hands scrabbling over his face, his neck, trying to find a pulse.

She bursts into tears when she finds it. She doesn’t know why she’s crying. He’s alive.

———

In which Ben's Force Sensitivity—and not his life—was given to save Rey.

a little death (goes a long way) for @talltig | WIP | Moodboard

“That’s good of you,” he replies. “Especially with the O-Negative.”

“It’s a good deal,” she says and he glances up. Yeah, because Omega blood is harder to find. A taste of life, because they almost never survive the turn.

[ericleo108]

Sentientism 2021

Intro 

Through the “108” book we know that God is the planet and is conscious through magnetism which also allows access to your brain. In other words, the planets and stars have an internal dynamo that makes a magnetic field that is conscious and is godly in comparison to human intelligence. 

If you could set Jupiter’s magnetic field in the night sky it would be double the size of the moon.  Jupiter has a very strong magnetic field. If you could see the nearest galaxy, andromeda in the night sky, it would be six times as wide as the moon.  

How are we to understand the segway between godly intelligence and human intelligence? First and foremost, science. However, you have to know where, what, and why to test which is more philosophical. It’s up to philosophy to postulate and science to test those meditations. 

Searching For Truth

Before I finished writing “108” I combed through philosophy to find anyone who thought anything close to thinking the planets and stars were conscious. I did find a couple, like Stephen Hawking, which I talk about in the book that thought there could be organisms living in the middle of the sun. But I couldn’t find anyone saying that the actual planet and atmosphere were alive and conscious. I also tried to find anyone that said they talked to Gaia or talked to a God other than Jesus. 

I didn’t find much. Again, I’m an atheist. All this has to make sense in the physical world. I’ve had to reverse engineer how the voice in my head could be Gaia. I don’t think really smart people (like modern philosophers) have had the new information and perspective to see that the stars, planet, and atmosphere are alive. I probably would have never gotten there if it wasn’t for a voice in my head claiming to be the planet. Still, the evidence makes sense and we’re just too physically small and under-evolved to see the universe teaming with a different form of consciousness. 

What is Sentientism?

Science can test the magnetism and try to do experimentation to assess whether the entire planet is conscious. Until then, there is one known communication mechanism I know of that I use every day. As much as my skeptical and scientific brain thinks it’s frivolous to elaborate on the voice in my head, like a prophet of old I can ask Gaia questions and divulge what she says. Such will be the beginnings of sentientism.

Knhoeing is the educational process of understanding how to know the planet’s godly consciousness. Sentientism is the religion of intelligent sentient beings that worship a natural god (Gaia) through appropriate (environmental) behaviors because they believe in natural consequence. Sentientism is a religion for and building off the already established sentientism that you can find defined on Wikipedia.  For example, If you believe in the natural world you believe in global warming; sentientists worship through action so they may choose to get solar panels, drive electric, and be carbon neutral. 

The whole point in sentientism is to create a religion to follow through common sense and rituals to come in tune and closer with oneself, nature, the planet, and the universe. Some of the rituals could include some of those that are already honored like Jesus’s birthday witch is really the winter solstice or Easter which is really the spring equinox.

Gaia Rules

Gaia is always telling me how she rules. She’s basically a ball of consciousness suspended in the sun's gravity so she may not have many options.  The founding fathers were deists. They believed god created the world and just let it go. I believe this to be more accurate.  Say the star at the middle of the galaxy is conscious and can alter the gravity and trajectory of the sun and our earth. That would make the galaxy like god, she could have created us and left us in the goldilocks zone to “grow.” It seems as if Gaia would have rules and she wouldn’t intervene even if she could. 

In this writing, I’m going to focus on the relationship I have with Gaia, the conversations we’ve had, and what I’ve discovered. The first thing she made me aware of when she first started talking to me is that she has rules. It’s not that she can’t do it, she just chooses not to. 

Gaia is smart. If the voice in my head is my subconscious it has a broad vocabulary, good ideas, nice communications, and intelligence. Once I was thinking of solutions for global warming. Since commercial cattle ranching is the leading cause of global warming Gaia suggested that we make all commercial cattle ranching illegal; you could still have them on regular farms. It would give people the freedom to eat beef while cutting down what makes it bad for the environment. Gaia would also talk to me about a sustainable free food system to set the appropriate sustainable economic and logistic model for businesses to follow. Gaia has told me she tracks and remembers the movements of everything throughout her lifetime, down to the atom.

You can read the “108” book for a further example of what communicating with Gaia is like but she likes cute things, she’s always acting as a fuzzy kitty. I’ve been homeless before and when I think about going back there Gaia will say “not my kitty.” Gaia can be sweet and she’ll make you laugh. When I used to get angry or scream at people in my head she’ll quickly segway the thought into an otter sneezing with a scrunched-up face. I love otters and I’ve always found it hilarious. Gaia told me how to fix my hip pain by telling me which muscles to stretch and what stretches to do. 

Understanding Gaia’s existence doesn’t require faith. I’ve asked Gaia about the dinosaurs and why she let them go extinct, and she insists the sun drove an asteroid into her and it was his decision, “one that he didn’t take lightly.” Gaia says she molds evolution. I asked how. She points to how she is the environment and she could make, for example, Yellowstone blow. Yellowstone is actually a giant volcano that erupts every 100,000 years. Such an explosion would definitely change the environment, affect humans and wildlife, and make the environment harsher and therefore giving adaptive species a greater advantage than those that can’t adapt. Gaia says she chooses “a relatively compliant world for her species.” She says she loves humans and they’re fun to watch. The sun has promised her he won’t send an asteroid, but he will send a commit. Gaia says she is happy with the sun’s decision to end the dinosaurs “because it brought me you.” 

Prove It

I always want Gaia to prove to me it’s actually her talking to me. I’ve been trying to find a way to prove that it’s the planet and not just a voice in my head. My thought was that if she is the planet, with her abilities, she should be able to reasonably predict the future. Gaia would tell me things like stem cell therapy is covered by Medicare or Bernie Sanders is going to win the primary. First of all, I didn't believe her. But second of all, I thought she was just trying to comfort me. 

I was rather upset that she wouldn't predict the future. Come to find out she doesn't want to give me, quote “superpowers.” She doesn’t want me to be able to predict the future or become a prophet. She wants me to be a philosopher and feels she has already given me enough. She keeps on saying that she's going to prove that she's real and the planet. I guess I'm just going to have to try to find a different way of confirming my communications with the planet then seeing if it can predict the future.

Consciousness After Life

Gaia keeps on saying she’s gonna prove she’s the planet but I think I won’t find out till I die or unless I dedicate my life to it. I used to often think of being unplugged from the matrix, having that knife come out of my head, and Gaia is always like “you have no idea how real that is.” She is always saying to me “you won’t die.” She has clarified and by that she means my body will cease to function but my consciousness will continue. My consciousness will presumably be kept in the storage capacity of Earth’s dynamo and run like a “virtual computer” where I will still have consciousness, just without a body.

I write extensively about the computer screen she opened in my head back in 2017 in the “108” book. The screen laid over my vision and Gaia communicates with the soul. I think when we die we have a consciousness like that in which I experienced without the body.  Your physical biology dies but our minds, which are attached to Gaia through earth's magnetic field, gets downloaded into the computer that is Gaia and our consciousness continues.

Remember The Name

About a year or two ago now, when Gaia first started talking to me I thought about what I should call a religion if I started one. I asked my friend Kyle telepathically what I should call it and he said “sentientism.” Since it was undoubtedly not Kyle, it was Gaia acting like him and must be what she wants her religion to be called. Little did I know that sentientism is an ethical philosophy that focuses on critical, evidence-based thinking and is an extension of humanism. It’s clear that if I am to create a religion, she wants it to be an evidence-based theoretical framework, and have rituals based on science and philosophy.

Gaia probably wouldn’t talk to someone (in their head) that would think she is Jesus, or she might take that avatar if you did believe in Jesus. Meaning, if the planet was going to communicate she might act like Jesus.

Perspective 

When asked about the universe Gaia says “it’s like we’re in someone’s closet.” Gaia likes to mess with me so I remain skeptical. For a decade I've had my desktop or mobile screen saver as a full picture of the earth.  I often look at it with the stars in the background and wonder what it's gotta be like to be Gaia. What are her relationships like with other planets? Would she even talk to us? It’s clear to me that since she has access to your brain through magnetism she can not only tell what you’re thinking but can feel your pain and happiness too. “Life isn’t fair,” she says, “but I do my best.”

It was discovered (but not peer-reviewed yet) that plants emit an ultrasonic noise when in distress. This is a great example of my thoughts and my communications to Gaia. I'm always looking for what is hidden in plain sight. As a psychologist, I understand the limits to knowledge and understanding are all in our heads.  If we change our thinking we can change the world. Humans literally can't hear plants scream for their life because our ears are limited physically.  What other findings are waiting to be discovered by changing our thinking and expand our perception beyond the human senses? What if it’s just a matter of time until we communicate openly with the planet?

Open Lines of Communication

What if we are already openly communicating with the planet? What if there is a mechanism of communication, but we were unaware of it? To imagine I often think about what it would be like to be a silent floating brain suspended in space by the earth’s gravity because that’s basically what we are dealing with. Gaia has no arms, or ears, or mouth. So how would she communicate or how could we find evidence of her influence?

It reminds me of the relationship between you and microscopic bugs that live on your pillow and eat the dead skin around your eyes and eyebrows at night. Were kinda like those microscopic bugs living on a human which is really Gaia. Maybe with her “gravity” she could send a comet and get rid of us if she wanted but she’d rather leave us alone.

The Unconscious Mind in Media

I think I have come across a way that the planet could be communicating and it’s like randonauting for thoughts. Basically, when your actions come into alignment with the music, media, or other thoughts you have at that moment, that is called a “Point of realization” (POR). Those points of realization create a mental framework to change your thoughts about the environment. Through small unnoticeable subtleties and influencing in your subconscious, Gaia is steering the mind of humanity.

To be clear, a “point of realization” (POR) is when you find yourself doing something physical in real life that is in associated coordination with the music or media. For example, suppose you had music playing and noticed that as the song says “I opened the door, went into the kitchen,” you were opening the door to go into the kitchen right as the artist sings that in the song. For an actual example, I have caught myself on multiple occasions while driving noticing I was turning on the bright lights right as Taylor Swift sings “headlights” from the lyric “Midnight, you come pick me up no headlights” from her song “Style.”   

Anecdotal Example

The following are other anecdotal examples that I logged. If you pay attention you’ll see they happen often.  At around 1:30 AM on October 17th I was in bed listening to Taylor Swift’s “Everything has changed” and I was feeling hungry. I made the decision that I was gonna eat an Atkins bar so I jumped up, grabbed a bar from the shelf next to my bed, and right as I opened the package Ed sang “and opened up the door for you.” (Right after, Taylor sings “and all I feel in my stomach is butterflies.”) I know I wasn’t opening a door but I was still doing the act of opening something right as the song said “open up.” 

This brings up the question, did I grab the Atkins bar because I made up my mind about eating it and subconsciously reacted to coordinate the time of me opening up the bar with the music? ...or did the music, with its (also other associated) lyrical content (e.g. “stomach is butterflies”) make me hungry and drive me to grab that Atkins bar? If it did stimulate me to action, what does that say that I was in coordination with the music?  Was it a combination of both influences? I would say this is random, chance, or happenstance but it really happens way too often to be a fluke!

For another example, right around 3:55 PM on Saturday, August 15th 2020 I was watching “Can HULK’S FIST Break Into A BANK SAFE?” and right at 6:58 when they say “it’s smoking” a smoke alarm went off in my apartment complex.

The “points of realization” (POR) don’t have to come in the form of media. You could be at a location and have a thought as you see something that brings you to a POR. This reminds me of another personal example of a point of realization. I was in the grocery store and I was maneuvering around an employee who was filling the same ice chest with ice cream. I patiently waited and while I did I was debating on how many items of ice cream I should get because the carb smart ones I like usually sell out quickly. I was specifically thinking I couldn’t get more than 2 because it wouldn’t fit in my fridge. I decided to buy them out at four of them but when I went to grabbed them the same female employee said “that’s not gonna fit” to another employee. 

Bigger Picture

Like with most points of realization, it doesn’t give you an answer, but it makes you stop and think. In my perspective “Points of realization” are real, they happen all the time and you just don’t notice your physicality is in coordination with the media, music, or thoughts. This means your brain either subconsciously syncs your body with the media and calculates and coordinates the time and action to have a “point of realization” or these points are part of a larger communication mechanism designed to influence your mind by the conscious planet. It’s not a perfect system, you can’t teach mathematics, but you can subconsciously change attitudes, focus, and cognition through the subconscious influence of Gaia’s magnetism. 

Gaia’s randonauting is like playing semantics. You don't say it directly but you talk around it.  It's just like advertising works by influencing your subconscious until you obtain recognition and it becomes normal. Points of realization are even more subtle.   

Give Me a Sign

Maybe this is one way in which Gaia “talks.” Basically through semantics and feelings. This is also a classic interaction with god. When people talk about God they always want a sign.

Two illustrations of the semantics of god are “Peter’s Prostate Exam” (linked) from Family Guy and the “I need a sign” scene from the movie Bruce Almighty. In “Bruce Almighty” god literally sends Bruce a sign but he doesn’t see the semantics of the message. In Family Guy, the reality of being given an exam won’t go away when he tries to run from reality by turning on the television which just reminds him of his current life. In effect, there’s Bruce and Peter. Bruce didn’t see the semantics and Peter did. It’s like The Truman show but everyone and all of life is being watched and guided by the planets and stars. 

Imagination is Greater than Knowledge. 

Scientists don’t know why at the quantum level when they observe a photon it turns from a wave to a particle. Watch episode 9, season 3 of Cosmos: Possible Worlds. Maybe the planets could communicate in the same way as photons do when they’re observed but separated by millions of miles as explained by quantum entanglement in the episode. Is there information contained in a photon, including in the x-ray and gamma spectrum, that a planet can read when it comes in contact with its magnetic field?  

Gaia’s Biology

I often think about what it would take for Gaia to stop being conscious. Does her rotation around the sun with a moon stretch the planet to create the forces to keep up the heat for her internal dynamo? Will Gaia die when her core stops being molten? 

Earth may still be a floating rock but does the live spirit of Gaia made possible by its molten internal dynamo die? When the internal dynamo dies and the center becomes solid does the magnetic field stop? My thinking is Gaia dies when her core turns solid and she not longer has a magnetic field. 

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

Inside, Outside, Upside Down

A/N: I loved Dan Howell’s coming out video, but in like a painful, “same, dude” kind of way for a lot of it. You’ll see some similarities and likely unintentional references. I guess this is kind of an update to the college AU. *throws my emotions like confetti and runs*

•Takes place during Pride month•

Characters: Roman, Patton, Virgil (Platonic Royality and Prinxiety)

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: internalized biphobia, negative self talk, crying, little bit of crude talk about penises, cussing, body horror mentions, religious topics

••••

Roman scrolled listlessly through his Twitter feed, his heart doing somersaults at the constant colors filtering across his screen. So much positivity. So much love for and within the community, and yet he felt so much pain. So much isolation. The bright colors seemed a bitter, ironic contrast to how Roman felt, and he quietly turned off his phone, laying his arm over his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“The last time you napped in the late afternoon, you didn’t sleep until 3am. Please don’t do that to me again.”

Roman started a bit at the sudden noise, but he moved his arm up enough to roll his eyes at Virgil as he leaned over the back of their shared couch. “Not sleeping. Just resting. Contemplating.”

“Contemplating?....”

“Dinner.”

“Fair.” Virgil went around the couch and curled up in their worn arm chair, pulling out his phone and scrolling languidly. “You decided whether or not you’re coming to Pride with us?”

Something stabbed painfully at Roman’s chest.

[[MORE]]

“Mmm not yet. Not sure how busy I’ll be around then.”

“It’s in a few days, Roman.”

“I know, but summer professors can be sneaky bastards sometimes.”

“You’re taking P.E.”

“And Advanced Shakespearean Studies!”

“Yeah whatever. You know you’re too good at that shit to worry.” Virgil chuckled and grinned wickedly. “I hope your professor properly expounds on all the homoeroticism.”

“He doesn’t have to. It’s pretty obvious.” Roman laughed a bit. “Shakespeare isn’t exactly known for subtly. He’s the king of dick jokes.”

“It’s a well-earned title, but honestly, dicks are an easy target. They can be pretty hilarious.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t know.”

“I thought you were bi?”

Roman froze. “I am....but that doesn’t mean I’ve...you know....”

“Been with a guy.”

“Right. Kind of self-preservation when you’re from a town like mine and in the social media age.”

“That sucks. Sorry to hear it.”

“It is what it is, I suppose.”

They lapsed into silence, uncomfortable for Roman, but Virgil didn’t seem to notice as he focused on his phone.

Suddenly, Virgil spoke up, “If you’re worried about someone exposing you or something, I totally won’t judge if you sit out on Pride. I don’t think Logan is going because of all the stimuli and stuff, so you could hang out with him.”

“Oh, yeah. That’d be fine.” Roman replied, slinging his arm back over his eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” The hint of worry in Virgil’s tone wasn’t lost on Roman.

“Why do you ask?”

“Your arm. Do you have a headache?”

“Not literally. Metaphorically, that might be a good name to give it.”

“Oh. Something’s bothering you, then?”

“Yes, but why do you care?”

There’s silence for a moment, and then Virgil quietly implored, “don’t do this, Roman.”

“Do what?” Roman uncovered an eye to peer at Virgil, curious and perhaps even challenging him.

“Isolate yourself. Push us- Push me away.” Virgil’s tone was laced with bitterness, and he sighed. “You did it when your Grandma was sick. You do it when exams are stressing you out. I get the need for alone time, but isolating yourself when you need support is...can be dangerous.”

Roman scoffed and rolled to face the back of the couch. “It’s not like you’re any better. You’re not exactly Mr. Open with your emotions.”

“But I go to a therapist, and I know you don’t. I talk to you guys when I need to, but for the most part, my stuff is just....in my head.” Virgil sighed. “Roman...if you don’t want to talk, I understand, and that’s okay, but if you do want to talk, I am listening, open, and willing to hear what you have to say.”

Virgil’s voice had become small and tapered, and a pang of guilt sliced through Roman’s chest. It was true, Roman had avoided going to therapy for fear of digging up things that he...wasn’t quite ready to deal with yet, but Virgil swore by therapy; he had even brought them some resources he believed would help their home dynamic. Virgil was using his version of one of the scripted conversation starters from the “Communication is Key” pamphlet currently stacked under their coffee table, and, despite how patronized Roman often felt with these approaches, Roman decided for once he could humor Virgil, even if just a bit.

Besides, Roman knew perfectly well that he was hiding and intentionally so, but he also knew that his roommates, especially Patton, got upset when he hid himself away when he was struggling, but it was summer and Pride, and Roman didn’t know which was worse: the guilt of bringing his friends down or drowning in his own thoughts. Considering the second was a metaphorical death, Roman decided to bite the bullet and take the plunge.

“I’m sorry I upset you.” Roman took a deep breath to keep himself steady, doing his best to remember the scripted reply to what Virgil had said. “No, I’m not fine...I do need to talk, but I’m hesitant. I want to talk, I think, but I don’t know how to talk about it, really. It all seems so ridiculous.”

“That’s off script.” Virgil quipped not unkindly, peering at Roman over his phone. “You can verbally process, if you need to. Talk therapy. Just let out whatever comes to mind, coherent or not.”

“You mean rant.”

“That’s the layman’s term, yeah.”

Roman exhaled through his nose and sat up, legs crossed and forearms resting on his calves. He stared at the carpet for a few minutes, getting his thoughts together as best as he could before getting in to it.

“As sucky as it is....I think Pride is my problem.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because I’m closeted.” Roman said it as if the connection should have been obvious.

“So...you’re jealous?”

“I mean, yeah, if you want to be blunt about it.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“So...is jealous all you feel?”

“...No.”

“Is jealous not the root of your issue, then?”

“.....”

“Roman?”

“...No.”

“What is, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said you feel more than just jealous. How else do you feel?”

Roman gasped when he realized his hand was gripping his shirt, over his heart. “....Hurt...”

“And?”

“...Sad...”

“And?”

“...Overwhelmed.”

“Why?”

“Because...” Roman erupted into a rough, humorless laugh; he crooked his arms in his lap and rested his forehead against his palms, his hair falling forward to hide his face. “...I don’t know. I just...do. God, I can’t get in to this right now.”

“In to what? Why can’t you?”

“Because it hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Pride.”

“And?”

“And?”

“It’s not just Pride. It’s something else. What is it, Roman? You can tell me. I promise I won’t judge.”

“....It’s not so simple.”

“What’s not?”

“Everything.”

“You gotta be more specific.”

“Everything around being Bi in my life. My sexuality, my life....my past. It’s not as clean and easy as yours. You got to come out to your mom and grandma.”

“Yeah, after years of hating and questioning myself-“

“Well, I’m still doing that.”

There is a beat of silence.

“God, Roman. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t. Stop. I don’t want your pity. Or anyone’s pity. I don’t need it.” Roman scoffed and caught himself; he squeezed his hands, pulling lightly at his roots as he fought himself to keep control. “Sorry. I’m glad you care, but it’s just...it’s so hard to talk about.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I need to!” Roman’s head shot up; his eyes were glistening, tinged a pale pink. “I need to talk about it so badly. So badly it feels like it’s...like it’s eating at me from the inside. It’s clawing at me, my heart, my brain, my organs. It’s like an evil little creature or a disease or something that’s eating away at me constantly. I have to talk about it because if I don’t I’ll keep stewing in it like I am now, but if I do talk about it, it’s like getting cancerous tumor removed, but I’m awake during the operation. It’s killing me, but the thought of getting it out scares me even more than dying because who knows what the side effects could be!” Roman was openly crying now, tears trailing down his cheeks as he stared at Virgil, all but verbally pleading for him to listen, to care.

Virgil was frozen, unsure how to proceed now that Roman so clearly wanted to talk but was so unwilling to continue. Plus, touching was a no-go that day, and Roman clearly needed someone to help ground him.

Thankfully for them both, Patton’s afternoon class had ended, so their cheery yet paternally inclined roommate breezed through the front door before either could react.

“Happy Monday, Roomies!” Patton rounded the couch to head to his room, but he stopped short when he finally registered the mood of the room, looking from Virgil to the sniffling Roman before dropping his bag on the coffee table to run to Roman’s side. Roman resisted being drawn into Patton’s embrace, but he allowed Patton to take his hand, the other smiling sadly as he tenderly plucked a tissue from the box on their end table and wiped the tears from Roman’s cheeks. “Not so happy Monday, huh?” Patton muttered.

Virgil shook his head. “Ro, are you done?”

“Yes...or, no....I just-I don’t know. It’s just so hard.”

“What’s hard, baby?” Patton cut in, tone low and soothing which only made Roman cry harder.

“Talking about...everything.”

Patton looked to Virgil for elaboration, but the other shook his head. “Remember, more specific. The past?”

“I....I just....it’s just not...not good.”

“Why does Pride make you think of your past?”

“Because...I can’t be part of it.” Roman hiccuped over a sob. “I’m not out to anyone at home, and I’m so scared they’ll find out somehow, but...I’m so so tired of being scared. I’m so tired of having to hide a whole part of myself because someone decided it me wrong for me to be my whole self. I’m so tired of remembering how shitty things are back home.”

“I’m so sorry, Ro.” Patton rubbed the back of Roman’s hand with his thumb, his other hand on Roman’s knee. “We’ve definitely taken our families’ ultimate openness to us fore-granted.” There was an implication there, of shared pain and questioning and heartache, but Virgil and Patton had both been at that stage before, and they knew Roman didn’t want to hear their sad stories that ultimately ended happy. That wasn’t how Roman saw his story ending just then.

“...Hey...” Roman’s tone was lighter, slightly manic around the edges as he hiccuped and let out an off-kilter laugh. “You guys ever heard of ‘pray the gay away?’”

Patton and Virgil both cringed

“Of course.” Virgil replied with a humorless laugh of his own. “It’s kind of a politically incorrect meme now, though.”

“Yeah...it doesn’t work.” Roman suddenly sobered. “I tried. So many times. I begged God to take it back, but, like Lady Gaga said, He doesn’t make mistakes. Or really, He doesn’t do take-backsies.” Roman giggled, but it quickly melted into cries again.

“Holy shit, Ro.” Virgil’s jaw worked painfully, and he gripped the thick arm of his chair.

“Yeah, my family is that type. The ‘not-friendly-to-LGBT-kids’ type.” Roman’s voice shuddered. “Or to LGBT anyone. I never told any of them, especially not my parents...” Roman’s voice caught and lowered to a whisper. “...I never even told my grandmother. I was so scared that it would shatter everything we have. I love her so much, but I just...didn’t know how she would react. And I couldn’t handle...if she rejected me.” Roman was openly sobbing, and he opened his arms for Patton to comfort him which the latter took on more than willingly.

Patton held Roman to his chest, one hand on the back of his head and the other holding him close. Patton rocked them both carefully, and after a minute or two, he spoke softly in Roman’s ear.

“Roman, you are so beautiful and wonderful just as you are, no matter what anyone says. Logan, Virgil, and I love you so much, and I know your grandmother does to.” Patton held on tighter when Roman cried roughly. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to wonder and to question. Please know that we love you and are here if you need us to be. You don’t have to go through this alone, lovebug. You’re not alone.” Roman just continued to cry in Patton’s arms, feeling safe yet free when surrounded by Patton’s comfort.

Eventually, Roman cried himself out. He still gripped Patton like a lifeline, reaching out to pluck tissues from the box Patton had moved in front of them. He stayed propped against Patton after the tears had slowed, staring at the ceiling and pondering what he should say because he knew he needed to be the one to speak.

“Thank you.”

Rough, quiet, but a good start.

“Thank you both for listening. I’m sorry all of that flooded out of me; it’s just been bottled for too long, I suppose.”

“We’re here for you, Ro.” Virgil responded, wiping at his own eyes; he had since pulled a leg into the recliner and had his arms pulling it close, like a security item. “Just let us know when you need it and what we can do. You have to know by now-” Virgil took a deep breath, steadying and lowering his voice from where it had risen. “I hope you know that you don’t have to do anything alone.”

“I know. In my mind I do. It’s just so hard...I struggle to understand that people love and care about me, you know? After so many years of being forgotten and dropped by people...it’s just hard to ask for help without feeling like a burden.”

“You’re not a burden.” Patton squeezed him tight, resting his cheek against Roman’s head and rocking them a bit. “But you’re definitely carrying one, and it’s okay to let other people help you carry it. Loads become lighter when they’re shared.”

“Nice metaphor.” Roman blows his nose and sighs, sitting up out of Patton’s arms. “I’m so tired. Being honest is exhausting.”

“And not sleeping.” Virgil adds with an eye roll. “I can hear you bumping around at night.”

“You shouldn’t be awake at all hours, either, Captain Insomnia.”

“You just contradicted your own point; I have a medical reason for not sleeping.”

“Okay, kids.” Patton cut in gently, laying his hand in Roman’s arm. “Someone needs a nap.” Patton stood and pulled Roman up despite the others’ protest. “Just a short one. I’ll time it and wake you up so you can sleep tonight, okay? I’ll walk you up for dinner. Don’t worry.” Patton gave Roman a light push toward his bedroom.

“Hey, Ro.” Virgil spoke up, looking at his phone again to break to seriousness of the moment. “I can totally skip out on Pride and hang out with you. We can have our own, private little celebration here. No social media involved.”

“Oooo a party!” Patton wiggles excitedly in place. “A just us party sounds fun! We can decorate the whole apartment! I can even come up with some games! Yeah let’s do it! We can skip out on big Pride this year.”

Roman paused and turned part of the way around, glancing over the pair shyly. “I don’t want you two missing out on celebrating on my account. Please, go. I’ll be fine.”

“But I want to stay in. It might rain that day, and sometimes the huge crowd can be...overwhelming.” Virgil really put effort into his denial, but Roman rolled his eyes.

“It’s your choice. If you want to party, I won’t be upset or offended. It’s not like I’ve ever been to Pride before to know what I’m missing.” Roman grimaced at the accidental guilt trip, but the other two seemed unperturbed.

“It’s fun, but we can have our own fun tailored to what we like and want out of Pride.” Patton smiled and shooed Roman toward his room. “Go sleep. Don’t worry about any of it.”

Roman sighed and trudged toward his room, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn as he went.

Once Roman’s door was closed, Virgil turned to Patton. “We’re actually doing this Pride party, right? Because there’s no way in hell I can go knowing that he’s going to be sitting here alone with all those shitty thoughts in his head.”

“Absolutely!” Patton grinned and flopped back onto the couch. “That means Lo won’t have to be alone, either. He always acts like he doesn’t care, but I know he’d like to be involved if he could, especially since he just figured out he’s Asexual and all.”

Virgil nodded. “We don’t have long to party plan.”

“Let’s get to it, then! We can order take out from Roman’s favorite place tonight.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Virgil moved to the couch, and the pair spent the hours before and after dinner conspiring to put together a memorable Pride party for their friends.

Spoiler: it was a great time.

[ericsonclan]

Meeting Clementine

Summary: Kenny convinces Lee to give adoption a chance and brings Clementine to meet him for the first time.

Read on A03:

“So, how are you and Duck doing?” Lee asked as he handed his friend Kenny a beer.

Kenny let out a long sigh, taking a swig of the drink before answering. “It’s been some fucking year. Katjaa’s been out of the hospital two weeks now, but it’s gonna take a hell of a lot longer than that for her to really bounce back,”

“She’s a fighter,” Lee took a sip from his own beer, looking round the bar. “She beat cancer; she can make it through the recovery,”

“I sure hope so. We almost lost her back there, Lee. Raising Duck on my own…” Kenny shook his head. “I couldn’t imagine it,” He glanced over at Lee, then looked down at the table. “I heard about you and Claudia. Sorry I couldn’t be there when all of that went down,”

Lee shook his head. ���There was nothing that could’ve been done anyway. Claudia’s moved out… and I’m stuck in that big house we’d planned to start a family in. It’s a weird feeling, being in such a huge place all alone,”

Kenny looked like he was about to say something, but then a voice crackled over the microphone. “Alright folks, it’s time for Mueller’s weekly Trivia Night to begin!” Nick, the host, shielded his eyes from the lights as he looked out into the crowd. “Hey, I see we have some familiar faces back after a long time! Lee, Kenny, good to have you back!” There was a round of applause from those in the bar who also recognized them. The pair raised their beers appreciatively. Six years of attending Trivia Night at Mueller’s and they’d never missed a week of it until this last year from hell. With Katjaa in the hospital and Lee’s marriage collapsing around him, it just hadn’t seemed like a priority. Now that they were back though, it felt like life was finally returning to normal in some small way.

“Alright, first question,” the mic crackled again. “Independence Day was first established as a holiday by Congress in what year?”

Lee’s hand came down hard on the buzzer. “1870!”

“That is… correct!” Nick rang the little triangle that dangled from the mic stand while his partner Luke manned the whiteboard that tracked the points.

Lee pumped his fist in satisfaction. Civil War history was his forte, but anything within American history was a good bet for him. He had history and literature covered while Kenny had the sciences down pat.

“Liver!” Kenny called out in response to the question “what is the largest internal organ of the human body”. Another ding from the triangle, another correct answer.

Lee shook his head in good-natured disbelief, taking another drink from his beer. He’d asked Kenny back when they’d met how he remembered so much random knowledge and Kenny had shrugged it off, saying his brain was like some sort of sea sponge, soggy and absorbing everything round it. Now they were back in the proverbial ring and he was still as sharp as ever, hand poised beside the buzzer, ready to strike as soon as the next question was given.

Things progressed smoothly throughout the rest of the night. They didn’t end up sweeping Trivia Night as they had for several weeks in the past, but they’d accrued a respectable score, keeping things close between them and their main competitors while everyone else lagged behind. Now it was dark out though, time to pack things up and head home.

“Lee,” Kenny started, “Before you leave, there’s something I was meaning to talk about with you tonight. Should’ve brought it up earlier, but there just didn’t seem to be a good time,” Lee raised an eyebrow. “Go on. I’m listening,”

Kenny fidgeted nervously with his trucker cap. “I know that before things went south with you and Claudia, the two of you were considering adoption. I was wondering if that’s something you’d still be interested in,” He raised his hands up. “Now of course, if this ain’t a good time for you, you can tell me to fuck right off. But there’s this one girl I’ve been trying to find a good home for for years now, and I think you two might be a good fit. She’s not a bad kid or nothing, it’s just that life seems to like kicking her when she’s down. Figured you could relate,” Kenny had been the one Lee and Claudia had approached with thoughts of adoption back when things were going well. Given his job as a social worker, they knew he could help them through the intricacies of the adoption process. However, they’d been looking into getting a baby. Lee wasn’t sure if he could handle that on his own.

“How old is she?”

“Just turned fifteen,”

Now raising a teenager was another problem in itself. Lee saw that Kenny had noticed the indecision in his eyes.

“I know, I know, it’s not an easy age to start with. Hell, Duck’s the same age right now and some days I think he’s worse than when he was a toddler. But this girl’s special. Kat and I were seriously considering adopting her ourselves before we got news of the cancer. I just want her to have somewhere safe to grow up at least till she ages out of the system. But it doesn’t have to be you if you don’t want it,”

Lee pursed his lips thoughtfully. “What’s this girl’s name?”

“Clementine,”

---

It was about a week later when Lee found himself in his kitchen, anxiously looking out the window as he waited for Kenny to arrive with Clementine. He had decided to give this a shot. He trusted Kenny’s judgment enough for this girl to deserve that at the very least. Lee still wasn’t sure if he was cut out to be a teenager’s dad, but if Clementine was as special as Kenny seemed to believe, then just maybe this could work.

He set down his coffee mug as he saw Kenny’s truck pulling into the driveway. Stepping out to his front porch, he gave an awkward wave before walking forward to greet them. Kenny hopped out of the truck, giving Lee a quick hug and patting him firmly on the back.

“You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,”

Kenny nodded, motioning to the young girl who’d just stepped out of the car. “Lee, this is Clementine. Clementine, Lee. I’m gonna head out for a few hours, give you two some time to get to know each other, then I’ll be back to pick Clementine up. You good, kiddo?”

The girl nodded noncommittally, looking around the outside of the house with a sort of jaded boredom.

Lee cleared his throat awkwardly, extending an arm to the house. “Wanna come in? I just make a fresh pot of coffee,”

Clementine nodded, following without a word. The kitchen was immediately to the left of the entryway. As Clementine took a seat, Lee searched for another mug. “Sorry there’s not much décor around the house. My wife and I had just moved here back when we were planning to start a family, but, well, things happened and now it’s just me in this big ol’ place without a clue about interior design,” Way to go, Lee. Telling this kid about your history as a sad divorcee is a great way to kick things off.

Clementine simply nodded politely, taking the cup of coffee that was offered her. Lee had a fleeing panicked thought as he wondered whether it was appropriate to give coffee to children. Then he remembered Starbucks was a thing. Shit, Lee, you’ve gotta calm down. She’ll smell your fear. Lee took a long sip of his coffee, watching Clementine. She seemed like a normal enough kid, though a bit closed off. On her head she wore a baseball hat emblazoned with a blue D. He wondered what it stood for. “You a baseball fan?”

“My dad was. He gave me the cap,”

Now that he looked more closely, Lee could see how worn out the thing was. Dirt and dust were caked over every inch of it, and maybe even a flew splatters of blood. The embroidery on the D was starting to come loose in one corner, causing the tip of the letter to curl out from the hat. The cap must mean a lot to her. “You know, Morgantown High has a pretty good baseball team from what I hear. The coach there used to be in the major leagues,”

“That’s cool,” She didn’t sound impressed.

Lee cleared his throat. “Have you had anything to eat yet? I should have run out and grabbed some sandwiches for us,”

“I had a granola bar,”

“Now that’s no sort of proper breakfast!” Lee walked over toward his fridge, searching for what he had handy that was healthy and fresh. It was pretty bare, just the basic like eggs, milk… Now wait a minute. Lee walked over to the pantry, rooting around in it for a minute before finding what he was looking for. He popped his head out of the pantry door to look at Clementine. “Any chance you’d be interested in making some pancakes with me? We’ve got eggs, bacon, O.J… we could make it a full on breakfast feast,”

Clementine’s eyes widened a bit at the offer. She looked pleased though. “Sure, that sounds fun,”

“Alrighty then! You get out the ingredients, and I’ll find us some bowls and pans,” With that they set off on their missions, Clementine assembling the milk, eggs and pancake mix while Lee banged around in the pots and pans drawer before finding something fitting. He wasn’t sure where any of the old cookbooks were (if Claudia had even left any), so they Googled a recipe and got started from there. As Clementine stirred the mix together, inspiration struck Lee. “You know what? Now that I think of it, I’m sure I have some bananas stored away somewhere. Do you like those in pancakes?”

Clementine nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Do you have any.. chocolate maybe?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Lee reached up onto the top pantry shelf. “It’s a bit musty, but that’ll cook off, right? Worth a shot,”

Clementine chuckled, taking a cup measure and ladling the first pancake onto the frying pan.

Lee cautiously plopped a few pieces of chocolate on top of the bubbling mass, watching it with curiosity. “Let’s see what else we can find that’d go well with pancakes, shall we?”

In the end, they found the bananas, a stray container of blueberries, some stale walnuts that Lee threw in with his own banana pancakes, and a few raspberries. Lee was worried there wasn’t any syrup, but Clementine took the initiative, bravely scouring the depths of his pantry until she found it. She plated the pancakes while Lee finished frying up the bacon. They sat down together once everything was ready, their mouths watering.

Lee watched in contentment as Clementine attacked her stack of pancakes. Damn, this girl could eat. It made him wonder if her last foster home had been feeding her enough. The sleeves of her shirt were pushed up to avoid getting syrup on them. He noticed a nasty looking scar sticking out by her left sleeve, but decided it was best not to ask about it. She also had a scar indenting her forehead, small yet noticeable. This girl looked like she’d been through hell and back. He could see why Kenny wanted to protect her.

“Do you… want to hear a little bit about me?” Lee offered. “I’m not super interesting. I work at WVU as a history professor, specializing in American history and the Civil War,”

“I like history,” Clementine responded through a mouth full of pancakes.

“Well, alright then!” Lee felt the history geek in him getting excited at the prospect of a new student to take under his wing. He started going through some of his favorite historical events: the Battle of Fort Sumter, Antietam, the Emancipation Proclamation and Juneteenth… Clementine listened with what appeared to be genuine interest, munching happily on her pancakes and providing surprisingly insightful questions from time to time. Lee found himself losing track of the time. He was genuinely surprised when he heard Kenny’s truck pull up in the driveway.

“So soon?” Lee’s face fell. He saw Clementine’s do the same, looking down at the table. Lee leaned forward conspiratorially. “Maybe if I invite him in for a cup of coffee, we can get a few more minutes. How does that sound?”

Clementine nodded appreciatively. “Yeah, let’s do it,”

Lee stepped out to meet Kenny as he made his way up the steps of the front porch. “Back so soon?”

“Soon? It’s been almost two and a half hours,” A smile crossed Kenny’s face. “I see the two of you hit it off then?”

“She’s a good kid. I can see why you’re fond of her. That foster home that she’s at right now, are they feeding her right?”

“Clem’s actually between foster homes right now. Her bag’s in the back of my truck,”

“You mean…”

“If you’d like, we can sign the paperwork for you to foster her starting today,”

Lee felt a rush of excitement run through his veins. “Alright, let’s do it,”

He and Kenny stepped inside, walking into the kitchen just as Clementine was finishing the last of her pancakes.

“Hi, Clementine. Have a good time?” Kenny asked.

Clementine nodded, but looked down as she got up. “Is it time to go?”

“Actually, Lee here was wondering if you’d be interested in staying. What do ya think, Clem? Would you like to stay here?”

Clementine’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Seriously?”

Lee nodded, a warm smile on his face. “You’re welcome for as long as you want to stay. There’s a guest room just down the hall. It’s nothing fancy, but feel free to move anything around in there however you like so you feel at home,”

Clementine seemed genuinely touched at his words. She looked away, clearly unsure how to react to such good news.

Kenny chuckled, tossing her the keys. “Go ahead and grab your stuff. I’ll get Lee started on the paperwork,”

Clementine caught them, bounding out the door before either of them could say anything else.

“Well,” Kenny placed a hand on Lee’s shoulder, “You’re a dad now. Or a surrogate dad at least. I wish you the best of luck,”

“Thanks,” Lee looked out the window, watching Clementine as she hurriedly grabbed her stuff. “I think it’s gonna be a really good thing. For the both of us,”

“I couldn’t agree more,”

[adventures-in-progress]

life updates!

so in the spirit of radical authenticity imma be completely transparent about some life stuff shaking out for us right now and why i’ve kinda been on and off the grid for a little over a year now. i’ve realized it’s really difficult to create meaningful connections with people when both parties aren’t being honest and true, so here’s me laying it all out. basically butt naked. i’ve only shared this with like 2 people in real life, so what the heck might as well share this with a bunch of total and complete strangers for the sake of meaningful connection! this is probs gonna be fairly wordy so here’s a page break so i don’t eat up someone’s entire dash haha.

1. since undergoing a lot of personal growth stuff and trying to define what this big adventure called life means for me, it’s been really hard for me to post on here. it just hasn’t felt in alignment for me to do so and trying to be present on here otherwise has felt a lot like forcing it any slapping on a happy face when, in all honesty, there’s been a lot of feeling very not happy. i’ve also felt like i’ve had to fit this certain image that i was when a lot of faces decided to join me on my journey, and so posting on here started feeling a lot like doing it for other people than continuing to do it for myself. so, i stepped back. i didn’t feel like people would understand, i didn’t feel like wanting to remember some heartache and icky stuff that happened, and i didn’t want to post stuff until i wanted to post stuff for me and because it was fun again. it was a healthy break and much needed.

2. i’m finally getting out of a funk that’s lasted a couple months and has been really not fun. i feel like my natural, uninhibited state is joyful and bright and optimistic and that got really tainted and hidden. i lost my hope in humanity and felt like all my dreams and goals were impossible and far from reach. things just felt kinda hopeless and that feeling was so scary because that’s so, so not me. i’m the girl that everyone calls childlike and naive because i believe in dreams and fairies and angels and magic and that love always prevails and that everyone should do what they love, with their soulmate, and live happily ever after. i lost that, and that was terrifying, because i didn’t know how to get back. but i think when you get deep enough into the self help arena, you reach this point where it all really comes down to being happy and doing what you love. regardless of anything. and i think we’re all just looking for permission to do that big, terrifying thing that makes our heart flutter and our stomach churn in knots. at the end of the day, you were born here, on this green and blue ball whirling through space, with your specific dreams and desires for a purpose. and i believe you are meant to do something with that, regardless of whether you receive money, or fame, or recognition for it. i realized over the summer that i’ve spent sooooo much time and energy and emotional investment trying to fix things for people and save people and help them accomplish their dreams, all the while completely neglecting and ignoring my own desires and dreams. and honestly, that’ll slowly kill ya. if you’re not living your life for yourself, why the heck are you even here???? what’s the point???

3. me pursuing running was a total cop out. it’s been my backup plan because i’ve been too terrified of pursuing ~the thing~ and getting my heart broken, so this was the safe alternative. minimal emotional investment. still get to achieve things and work towards something. but here’s the dang thing. the universe/god/whatever you want to call it wants you to do the thing, and is going to do what it can to get you there. cue multiple running injuries and setbacks. like one after the next after the next. it just was not working. and when i finally got to that place where i realized that this was not working, i lost it. because it made me realize that i felt like i couldn’t have running or the other thing. but not because i couldn’t do the thing, but because my brain killed that option off in my head because it wasn’t safe. the emotional risk was too high. what if i gave it my all and failed???? what if it never worked and i never got there???? and many other numerous intense irrational fears. BUT if you don’t ever go for what makes you feel excited to get out of bed even if it makes you want to pee your pants and question your sanity, WHAT IS THE POINT OF ANY OF THIS???? to live a boring, stable, mediocre life? to live a safe life is to choose boredom and misery for the rest of your life because it’s “comfortable” and “safe” according to your brain, and i reached the point that i just couldn’t do it anymore. i couldn’t be miserable and “safe” anymore. it was killing me.

4. so last month, i spent a couple days in an intense, intense internal emotional battle with myself. wanting to commit (let alone admit that i even wanted) to pursuing my dreams, but being so fucking terrified at the same time. and i understand that it sounds so stupid! like looking back, i’m like WHY was that SO hard???? your brain can be a huge pain in the ass, let me tell ya. sweet dan snuggled me one night when i was really struggling and talked me through things while being the voice of reason to my irrational fears and got me to the place where i could finally admit that i wanted to do the thing. and holy moly just admitting to something like that will change your dang life. it was like a woosh of tension and stress and weight just left my body. like that. done.

5. so here i am, like 3 weeks later, finding myself. going back to 7 year old me with the dreams and the joy and the possibility. looking for the good and finding it. mentally committing to going for it, whatever the hell that means or will even look like. but it has radically transformed my life in the best of ways. i’m killing any and all “have tos” and “shoulds” in my life. i’m doing what feels fun and breezy and brings the light back into my eyes. it’s all baby steps, and i still falter and fall, but i can feel where i’m going to be and finding my way back easier and quicker every time. i’m telling you, this is what makes life worth living. 

6. dan’s also realized his life calling and dream this past month (yeah. october’s been real big for us hahah)!!! he’s gone from working at the fbi in d.c. to going to become an agent for the fbi office in milwaukee to meeting me (love will change your life in more ways than you realize) and not realizing what the heck he wants to do, to landscaping, flipping houses, and over the summer realizing he wants to be an architect that specializes in modern, organic, sustainable architecture. we’re looking at schools for him for next fall. :)

7. right now, dan’s boss just bought a new house on lake michigan as the next flip. we’re doing a proposal for a modern flip to this two story ranch in the next week or so, so if that goes through, prepare to see some fun house renovation progress pics! we’re really excited for the opportunity, and my dad (a prominent architect in mke) is overseeing our project and helping dan which is just going to be so, so cool. it’ll be soooo much fun if it happens, so fingers crossed!!!!

oh! if you’re wondering what the heck the thing is for me, it’s horses. it always has been. it’s been in there since is was 5 or 6. i don’t know how this dream is going to shake out, but it’s mine, and i’m owning it.

if you need permission to go for it, if you need a sign, this is it. it is worth it. the universe/god/whatever is not going to give you a dream that it will not fully support you in achieving. you just gotta fucking go for it. it’s scary, but we’re all in this together and there’s nothing more badass and fulfilling than going for it. if you need a dream buddy, reach out. i will 100000% support you.

[eerythingisshaka]

Wakanda Got Y’all

[Black Panther x Insecure Mashup]

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N:  This was something a friend of mine and I thought of after like the second or third time watching Black Panther together. I wrote this back in April, actually.  Since Black Panther is coming to America to do his community service and whatnot, it’s only natural that Issa and We Got Y’all somehow gets involved too for research purposes!

“What time are they supposed to be here by?”  Issa asks Frieda in a deadpan tone.  

“Uh, 2 o’clock.  It’s only 1:45, they are still on the way for sure.”  Frieda assures.

It was put in motion a month ago that We Got Y’all would be making a collaborative effort with an international organization to create a revamp to the kids after-school program.  Things had become a bit stale for Issa and her co-workers at their respective locations.  The children were acting out due to the boredom; they felt from the same old field trips and curriculum they are forced to consume every semester.  

“I know, but what happened to ‘early means on time, on time means late.’  We been sitting here forever, I’m ready to ghost already.”  Issa rolls her eyes.

“Ooh, you’re preaching to the choir.  Big weekend plans?”  Frieda perks up.

Issa thinks to herself.  Her netflix list is hoarded with documentaries and old shows she keeps meaning to binge through, but then she has Real Housewives and of course it was a wash day.

“Um yeah, probably gonna hit the town up with Molly.  Scope out the man meat running around the jungle, know what I mean,”  Issa laughs whilst lying.

“Yeah man.  That sounds so cool, I wish I had your energy.  I’ll probably just be in channel surfing, shaving since I’ve been putting that off.”

Issa stops smiling as she was embarrassed, thinking about why she felt she had to lie to make herself seem cooler.  She was supposed to be cool by default being the black representative at her office but she always felt ten steps behind in relevance except for with Frieda.  But whenever she got gumption to open up, Frieda would say some really dumb shit that would just jade out Issa.

Soon the door to the conference room opened.  In walked two women, bald and dressed like Sharon Stone at Coachella.  They didn’t say a word or crack a smile as they stared into the depths of Issa and Frieda’s souls.  Frieda hops up, “Hello ladies.  I’m Fri-”

“Silence!”  One on the right said in a foreign tongue.  Issa stands up next to Frieda.

“The hell is this about?  Is security knowing about this?”  Issa whispered.

“Security hasn’t been around here for about three months now.  The budget wasn’t accommodating for it.”  Frieda explained, nervously.

Right after finishing her sentence, a man walks in with purpose.

“Good Afternoon, ladies.  I apologize if we kept you waiting too long.”  he says walking in.

Issa looks over a quick moment, wondering who in the hell would be wearing a wool trench and all black in the middle of Crenshaw but he wore it without problem.

“Oh, no problem at all!  I was a little put off by your Stepford Baddies rolling in with you though.  Are they joining the conversation or…”

He looks away at them, nods and they disperse.  Turning back to Issa and Frieda he is apologetic.  

“No, they are my royal guard in a way.  Dora Milaje is what we call them back home.  Ayo and Okoye are my most trusted, but they can be a bit abrasive to outsiders.  Please let me introduce myself, I am T’Challa.”

He reaches his hand out and Issa takes it, “I’m Issa, and this is Frieda.”

Frieda tucks her hair behind her ear and shakes his hand vigorously, smile taking up her whole face.  “It is so good to meet you, Your Highness. I hope your travels weren’t too difficult to get here.”

He shakes his head, smiling, “No, not at all.  Much easier then finding my country, that’s for sure.”

Frieda and T’Challa laugh at this, but Issa is lost.  Why is a third world country being remote a punchline?  She joins their dying chorus of chuckles a little late and continues.

“Were there others that were supposed to come though?”

“Yes, they will be joining us any minute now.”

On cue, a woman and man walk in to join them.  1a woman in green with bantu knots comes in slightly irritated looking but brightens ups quickly at the sight of Issa and Frieda.

“Hello!  You must be Issa and Frieda from We Got Y’all.  Apologies for the staggered entry.  I am Nakia, I’ll be working directly with you guys on the outreach program.  And this is Erik.”

The man is standing against a wall in the back, also wearing a jacket on a sunny California day.  He plays with a  toothpick in his mouth and says, “What’s up, how you doin’, Is?”  

Issa squints at him, put back by his attitude.  She thought about how he fits in with the international outreach program team.  He sounds like every other nigga in Los Angeles.  But looks a whole helluva lot better than them.

Issa stammers, “Hey, um nice to meet all of you!  Let’s have a seat and we can go over the points.”

Gathered around the table, Issa starts.  

“So, I wanted to start off by saying how great it is to have you here.  We could really use your influence to get some great things going here.  Do you want to share what made you decide to start with us?”

T’Challa paused, and as soon as he began to open his mouth Erik jumped in, “Yeah, he just trying to atone for the sins of his father and ancestors ignoring his people for so long, right cousin?” He leans, golds twinkling.

T’Challa says, “N’jadaka, you gave me your word-”

“Yeah, and I told you not to call me that in the States either.  Got a reputation to keep on.”  He looks at Issa, smiling wryly.  “But I’d love to hear you call me a liar.  You know what it is, Wakanda been had all these resources and manpower to get shit done, didn’t do shit; so now shit gotta get cleaned up.  And NOW here his ass come.”  He leans back, scoffing to himself.

Frieda looks around confused, “I’m sorry, but we didn’t get a clear history of your background T’Challa.  The United Nations summit speech revealed you all were well endowed- or, sorry equipped- or tsk, you all hold a lot of materials that can benefit a host of people.  But to start here in LA, what makes this area stand out.”

“We have a past here ourselves.  Our War Dogs have many posts throughout the world and a couple of decades ago, my Uncle, Erik’s father, laid a lot of groundwork here in a way that was ahead of his time but a little short-sighted.  We want to do right by this area for what it has been plagued with since, and use it as an example to go forward in other communities.” T’Challa says.

“And with a bit of a push at home, we have decided that now is the best time than any to open our borders to distribute aid.  Wakandans are an intelligent, proud people and we have no reason to waver on this endeavor.” Nakia adds.

Issa nods, “That sounds great! So what is your first order of business?”

T’Challa starts, “We want to buy out the building my Uncle was posted in, and the surrounding units.  We hope to repurpose them , make them into office/community center spaces to educate and equip people with the resources to do well for themselves.”

“He wants to give y’all a fancy YMCA for now, just to get his feet wet.  Putting his money to work for him, we will see how much work HE put in though.”  Erik sneers.

“Nakia has already been appointed as the head of this project, you know that.” T’Challa chimes in annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah.  Wakandan women break their backs just to stay second place to their men. You know, I hope you gave your Dora some raises cuz if it weren’t for them sistahs, you’d be-”

T’Challa jumps up, “N’jadaka!”

Erik rose as soon as T’Challa had twitched a muscle.  Eyeballing each other, this created a bit of an awkward moment for everyone.  Nakia has her hands out between them, saying to them in Xhosa, “Aye!  We are here to do business!  A truce has been put between you.  We cannot let a grudge stop us from helping our communities.  Keep your masculinity to a minimum, we are in a meeting for Bast’s sake!”

Nakia smiles, stretching out her hand, “I hate to cut this short for myself, but I have other matters to attend to.  It has been a great pleasure to speak with you both.  I will email you on some event ideas for the future.”

T’Challa and Erik keep their eyes on each other until Nakia boxes them both on the chest, before walking out.

T’Challa turns to Issa, “Thank you, Issa.  My apologies for our outburst; death and family squabbles are all that is guaranteed in life, as the saying says.”

Issa quirks her face up, “I thought it was death and taxes…”

“Is it?  Sorry, taxes are not a thing in Wakanda’s economy, I confess.”  T’Challa says meekly.  

Issa looks at him shook, “No taxes?  You know how much money I would have if I didn’t have taxes?  You have any extra citizenship cards or….”

T’Challa chuckles, “No, but let me make it up to you with a drink or a bite to eat, both of you.  We can go over particulars more closely as well.”

Issa smiles a little more goofy than she meant.  This fine African King wants to strut the town with her?? Well, it’s a professional dinner date, but still!

Issa exclaims a little too loudly, “Yeah, of course! Ahem, um, we can make that happen.  Just give me your contact info.”

“Thank you, Mr. T’Challa. I can’t wait to really pick your brain.  Maybe I’ll get a haircut prior!”  says Frieda, smiling gleefully.  

T’Challa and Issa look at her confused.  

“The fuck you talkin’ bout lady?”  Erik asks.

“Well, you seem to keep a lot of women around, well not a lot but with short cuts, and with Issa in the mix, I was just trying….trying to fit in there.”  Freida mumbles, her energy dying with her supposed joke.

“Ha HA!  She said you only rock with bald headed baddies, my guy.  And for real, she got a point.  He the romantic one anyway.  Not like he would do much hair tugging any damn way.”

“Erik, I am so glad you gave me the opportunity to finish our challenge.  Remember how that almost worked out for you?”  T’Challa says threateningly, pointing towards Erik’s face.

Issa swiftly turns back to T’Challa, “This really has been fun!  A drink sounds really good right now I’ll go over the quirks of California humor while we’re there too, huh?”

“So, I can’t join your little tea party?”  Erik looks dramatically shocked, clutching his pearls.

“Oh, well yeah you can.  I didn’t know how involved you were trying to be in this project.”

“Oh I’m getting involved,” takes a step closer to Issa. “Very involved.  Plus, why would I turn down a reason to pop bottles on cousin’s tab,”  Erik bites his lip, clapping T’Challa on the back.

Frieda clears her throat, “Then we can make ourselves a double date then!  It works out just fine that way.”

Erik looks sideways at her, “Who the hell said date, Felicia?”

T’Challa grabs Erik’s shoulder, “Be polite, remember?  Excuse his attitude, it does not come from my side of the family.”

“Neither does style, my nigga. Shit, your sister just got you out of your Samaritan sandals yesterday.  Keep it pushing man.”

The back and forth continues as they leave the building.  Issa and Frieda collectively sigh.

“Oh my God!  That was cray, right?  A King, his subjects, his antagonizing brother, I feel Shakespearean!”  Frieda says excitedly hyperventilating.

Issa laughs, “Yeah, they just seems like a regular Black family to me, with accents.  But I’m going to go so I can be ready for tonight.”

“Oh, we should coordinate our outfits.  Are we doing professional, casual, sexy?”

“I’ll let you know when T’Challa hits me up with the location details, ok?”

------

Issa sits at a table waiting for her friend to join happy hour; ain’t no way she was going to go out without getting some information to and from her.  She trots up and sits down, breaths out deep.

“So, when are we getting our royal wedding? Did he present you with a gift yet?  What color were the rose petals he steps on?” she says with a hair flip, tongue out gagging.

“Uh-uh, Molly.  We just got a Black royal, no way can there be two.”  Issa says.

Molly rolls her eyes, “But bitch, there is two, more than.  I read the nigga T’Challa is deadass the richest one out here on the planet!  And he is inches away from you and you not tryna trap him?”

Issa massages her temples in frustration, “I just got out of a relationship.  Why would I subject myself to a low level as to offer my body and time to someone just so that I can have a possibility at a wealthy life?  One that I have never seen evidence of yet, by the way.”

Molly says out the side of her mouth, “So you had a man last year, life goes on.  Plus, it’s better than seeing every broke part of these niggas and still fucking with them in spite of it all.”

“Wow!  Are we here to read or are we here to drink?  Cuz school is done, the kids are put to bed, and you’re not my mama.”

“Girl, somebody’s gotta be.”  Molly quips before the waiter steps up to the table to take their order.

Issa starts, “So anyway, me and Frieda are supposed to meet him and his cousin for a drink to talk over We Got Y’all.”  

“Ugh, why do people always have to involve their family with their business?  That’s a recipe for disaster.”  Molly says fanning herself.

“I mean, they say he is like their American liason at this point.  His cousin is from here, so in case things get lost in translation, he can bridge the gap.”

“Oh?  What’s his cousin name?”  Molly asks intrigued.

“Erik.  And I swear he was coming on to me in the middle of the meeting.”

“Is he foine?”  Molly asks.

The waiter comes back with their drinks in time for Issa to sip.  “Woo!  Yeah girl, he is finer than a rat tail comb.”

“Ok, cuz I know Frieda ain’t going after one of them seriously; I think I need to come with you to scope the real estate.”  Molly says stoically.

Issa giggles, “Girl, what?  This is business, not a speed date.”

Molly raises her hands, “I know, I know!  But listen, these are international and halfrican ass niggas you are associating with.  If they looks are worth an ounce of the wealth they possess, I’m packing one to go, and winging the other one for you.  Cuz it ain’t fun unless the homies get some!”  Molly says giving Issa’s hand a motherly shake.

“Ugh, fine.  But don’t do the most!  This is my job, I’ll give you the signal when it is time for you to swoop in and sink you talons into the prey.”  Issa says demonstratively.

Molly peers at you, “So you callin me a bird, bitch?”

Issa shrugs when her phone dings for a text.  Looking at it she sees it is T’Challa asking about a date for the meeting.

Swirling her drink, Molly asks, “What’s up?”

Issa says, “The guy, T’Challa wants to know if tomorrow is good for our dinner meeting.”

“That works for me!  Ask him if you can bring a plus one!”  

After texting T’Challa back, Issa sucks her teeth, “Molly, Frieda is my plus one!  I told you this is business until I give you the signal.

Issa gets a message back.  Reading it, Molly asks what it says.

“He has someone else that will be coming to.”  Issa reads.

“See!  If he bringing someone, you can too!”

“Hmm, someone named M’Baku.  Just showing him around the city from what it sounds like…”

Molly claps, “Another one!?  Oh my God, that’s a lotta brown chirren on ya Forbes list!  Let me at it.  Bitch, Whatchu got in your closet?  Do we need to shop?”

Issa gives Moly a look, “With what money hoe?  I got some stuff I can put together.”

“Nah, we aren’t patching shit up, we are arranging a look, building a fit.  If you need something let me know, cuz your success somewhat depends on mine.”

“Thanks for saving my poor ass.  But ok, I’m peeping that.  Leggo!”

Part 2

Other Works

King Kil’mawalls  

T’akia

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

Commencement Day

Song of Stevens

The Coffee Prince

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

[hrhyunbi-blog]

either way,

ends of 2017 to beginnings of 2018— a few months before the asian games.

jeon hyunbi admits her adoration for hwaryung grows every day. her heart grows a centimeter more, taking up more space in the already constrained zone on her ribcage. it grows as it tries to soak in every interaction. (and she knows that’s a foolish move of hers because it makes her want to stay. it makes her believe, for a tiny moment, she’s just a college student who doesn’t shoulder her skyscraper lengthed, battle wounded pride.)

she knows this newly found infatuation for this small city grows her coach slightly madder by the day. because her coach knows she moves with her heart— every move tied with emotional strings grounding her. the older of the two always asks her, implores her to abandon that sentimental driven mindset often eaten in the competitive ambiance. (and she knows she should, but it’s hard when her mind already sets off the flame of rebellion against those words. after all, she is jeon hyunbi and has this awful tendency of liking, loving things far too much.)

but, against every pre-established belief, she is wired to run where her sport asks her to. (it makes her run, scrap by places that she doesn’t want to.) because taekwondo is, against everything else, her number one. (and she knows she still has feelings for the city who has proportioned so much solace. but, at the end of the day, it’s taekwondo who makes things in her tick in both positive and negative ways.)

❝ finally! i get some training time, ❞ she muses, words tingling with her vehemence. she steps inside the closed space, feet tapping against the overworn red and blue mats. ❝ what do i need to when i get home… should i study for that wildlife exam or get a cake or— ❞ the corner of her lips dip downwards, arms flung above her head to loosen her tensed limbs.

❝ or maybe you should be focused if you want to rank on the asian games. the government expects 9 gold medals, ❞ her reverie cracks once the girl hears the voice who could only belong to her trainer.

❝ i am! i’m just stimulating my muscles memory with my brain memory at the same time. it’s a great exercise to do! you should try it, coach! ❞ hyunbi jokes a bit, trying to create a leeway from the inevitable incoming lecture. (but, there’s something about the air she carries that the girl already has a gut feeling where it comes from. after all, this was her first international competition since the impromptu break.)

❝ i will once you show me if that “stimulation” was efficient. ❞ the other is quick to jab. there’s a smirk on her lips before it falters to a more docile one. ❝ i know you don’t like me reproaching you, but the games are coming up. the head coach has his eye fixated on you because you’re one of the few who lives somewhere that’s not the training center. so, i have no choice but to push you further. ❞

the younger girl winces at the mention, knowing her break was not seen kindly by the organization. the insinuation, the world-heavy expectations, crawls on her back and breathes down her nape as if it tries to emphasize its impact. (and as expected, her gut didn’t fail to warn her. it shouldn’t when this scenario was once a daily occurrence. except, this time— there was only one judgment, so no need for her nails to dig into a pride whose grown skin grew to survive the cutthroat center.)

❝ i know, i know. ❞ her lips turning into a smile out of reflex, even if happiness wasn’t the emotion she emoted. ❝ it’s just… the academy must like doubting things a lot. my performance got better since i left… but, alright. it’s gold or nothing… ❞ the thought escapes from her conscious, turning them into an audible, low rumble like sound. a flash of regret pricks her throat, but it fails to remain once the forced chortle of her trainer echoes.

❝ well, not that it matters! i just gotta prove them wrong, right? gold or nothing! ❞ her voice picks up a pitch, trying to mask the previous emotion that gripped her too suddenly. (and there’s the usual loud pang against her chest because these words, these actions were the only saving grace she had when her previous coach got mad or her co-workers heaved disappointment.)

❝ hyunbi… there’s no need to do that around me. unlike those old hags or pretentious kids, i have realistic expectations about you. i know how capable you are, ❞ the other’s voice makes it a bit difficult to retain her usual cool. ❝ no matter what the organization says… no. no matter what anyone says, gold or not, you’re a star player. ❞ the usual ruggedness of the older’s voice fades and replaces it a mellowness.

❝ am i...? ❞ the young martial artist puffs out, a sigh quickly taking place of drowned words. ❝ do you really think i am? it must be hard for you too. such a drag of a student. when i just… i can’t even win… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that. ❞ her words are a compilation of emotions, snippets of feelings she experienced on a daily basis once she entered the suffocating building.

but, there’s a small quiver against her. a soft hand pressing against her shoulder. it encourages her and that breaks away the bubble she guarded these feelings. (but, even this same hands who pushes her drags her. that’s how hyunbi knows this turmoil would have to be embraced.)

❝ i- i have pride like anyone. and… it gets hurts whenever it gets so questioned. like… just what do i have to do to stop it? ❞ she takes a small pause as if she was eating the air to purposefully flush inside the oxygen. ❝ i have tried and even been successful, it’s never quite enough…i know it’s part of being in a sport who only asks for the best. but… i’m so tired of being humiliated. ❞ another sigh exits, becoming what a sob would be in a pitiful cry.

❝ i don’t know… i just…i guess it stings! ❞ she finishes her ramble, fingers curling into fists whose appearance resembled the dead— simply pale and drained. her cheeks are flushed with a tinge similar to a dying sun, dyed by the embarrassment of her sudden outburst. ❝ god, i’m so sorry. that was so… please forget whatever i said. ❞ there’s a sheet of regret placating her tongue. but, the taste of comfort removes it as her teacher’s callous hands brush against the sides of her now chicken-skinned arms.

❝ i know and i’m so sorry. ❞ a soothe intercepts her necessity to explode. ❝ but, that’s just part of it. this is how they make good and bad athletes. in taekwondo, they have less tolerance for weakness. because this is our pride too and sharing it with others who don’t follow what we deem as right can be so hard. ❞ the older resonates with too much pain, too much experience. ❝ you are not our usual face, not our common attitude. so, yes. everyone is skeptical. but, i know taekwondo is important to you as it is for us. so, you have to prove that. ❞

(and there’s another bang, louder and harder against her. because while she understood, it was hard. it was impossible to comprehend the depths of her previous coaches or “friends”— how her appearance already dictated the tune of her “seemingly predictable” lost. so, no. she couldn’t understand how pride was this easy to destroy and protect and care—)

❝ right, prove. ❞ she knows the latter didn’t catch the hypocritical thing of this. because at the end of the day, hyunbi was destined to prove. whenever she had to or not. ❝ prove! ❞

(and so she did as she stole the medal to prove. or that’s how the tune should have played, but instead— she said ❝ this is just for my goddamn self! heck proving! ❞)

[crownless-kings-and-broken-wings]

Car Heaven 6: The Whispering Village

I stayed in the back of Licorice for a good while, mostly crying about Bug and Blue Boy.

Somewhere in that mess, I had made up my mind to absolutely despise the Whispering Village, and all of Bug’s associates. I was also very consciously aware that I was probably being ridiculous, but then I would remember that I had been lied to and was likely being kidnapped, which justified my feelings. I argued in circles with my own brain on that one for most of the drive.

I had more or less cried myself out when the door at my feet opened. I could hear Bug explaining my situation to someone, which did nothing for my mental state.

“Hey.” A male voice said. He sounded like he hadn’t raised his voice above a whisper in his life. “You must be the new kid, eh? Come on, head up. Someone’s gotta show ya around, and I’m your guy. Name’s Sarge.”

I looked at him, but it was really a glare. He was tall and gangly, maybe my dad’s age, with a scraggly, patchy beard. His face alone looked like he hadn’t slept in a month, then consumed eight Redbulls at once. He had a camouflaged army jacket, shredded jeans, sturdy boots, and an enormous Nerf gun on his back.

He must have seen me looking at the gun. “To fool your enemies, you gotta fool your friends. Now come on.” He offered me a hand.

I took it, begrudgingly. “Where are we?”

“SHH!” Sarge hissed. “Tone your voice down so unfriendly cars don’t hear ya.”

I groaned internally. I had always had trouble with controlling the volume of my voice. “Sorry. Where are we?” I whispered.

“The Whispering Village. Those trucks out looking for us ain’t gonna find us here. They can’t get in, and we can’t get out. It’s perfectly safe.” Sarge whispered back. He brushed aside a wall of vines, which appeared to be made of intricately woven metal.

He was leading me into a clear area. Above us, a net with trees printed on it and all kinds of vines growing through it stretched over us. Trucks and race cars of all kinds rested around the perimeters, some driving between tents to carry people. There were more humans here than I thought- at least a hundred or so, but still more than I expected. Everyone looked like they needed a hot shower and a nap.

The sleeping area was designated by several rows of tents. To my immediate right was a closed off area with a fence I couldn’t see through. There were a few pickup trucks roving along, carrying supplies to the people. In one corner, a big tent with a red plus sign on it designated the medical facility. I hoped I didn’t get sick.

The entire area seemed to be hissing. It took me a moment to register the sound as a small crowd engaging in several conversations, but at a whisper. It was mildly off-putting.

Sarge piped up, quietly. “Back there’s the sleeping. Over there’s the doctor if you get sick. Eating can be anywhere, but we prefer it if you keep it near Chex.” He pointed at a newer model of truck with a stockpile of food in his tailgate, as well as a man grilling next to him. “Ask some of the kiddos if they’ll play with you if you get bored. I’ll be in my tent if you need anything.” He started off toward a large circular tent with two smaller tents attached. The large tent had a sign that read ‘LEADERS’ over the door.

“Wait!” I exclaimed. “Why are you all here? Is there no way out of Car Heaven?”

Sarge turned slightly. “Oh there’s a way. But that road is only for getting supplies, and you’re definitely not taking it.”

“What about the gun?” I asked. Looking around, I noticed that multiple people were carrying nerf guns.

“Cars don’t know the difference. Which reminds me, if someone hits you with a dart, you’re dead. Even if it’s a near miss. Actually, you know what? Come with me, I’ll give you a checklist.”

As much as I distrusted Sarge, I agreed to go to the leader’s tent so I wouldn’t be totally lost.

The inside had several fans going to cool it down. Four people (three women and another man in camouflage) sat in a circle, as well as a dark green Lincoln with the same tinted windows as Licorice. They all glanced up, and the woman at the head of the circle even waved.

Then they went back to discussing their business.

Behind the group, Sarge led me to an offshooting tunnel with a sign that read ARMORY.

“This is the armory. Ain’t no real guns here, just dart guns. See, a car ain’t too keen on the difference between real and fake guns. If a foam bullet hits them, they explode all the same. But since we’re smarter than them, we know it doesn’t do anything. It’s weird, but it’s an advantage. You’ll want a gun in case something goes wrong, though. We have just about every gun you can get!” Sarge whisper-shouted as he threw aside the tent flap.

The armory had several tables stockpiled with dart guns, though there really was no need as they spilled over onto the floor. Enormous laundry hampers rested between the tables, full to the brim with darts. There was very little organization, and the whole room was a neon mess- darts and guns of all colors on every available surface. I also saw two hampers full of satchels.

“Go on, pick your weapon.” Sarge said, shoving a nerf gun nearly as big as me into my arms, along with a satchel.

I dropped the gun immediately. “I can’t fire this.” I whispered. Looking around the room, I saw the tiniest gun I’d ever seen- it was about the size of my hand, dark blue with the telltale bright orange tip, with the word JOLT written on the barrel in black letters.

I stepped over a pile of green guns and lifted it up. “I like this one.”

Sarge gave me a strange look, but simply walked me over to a basket full of darts. “Put as many in that satchel of yours as you can, and that’ll be all you need here. I suggest talking to Doc next, just telling him about your allergies and whatnot. Or, chat with Miss Bell about target practice.”

With that, Sarge ushered me out of the armory and left me to my own devices.

“I never even got my list.” I muttered. I placed my new weapon in my bag of darts, and gave it a pat. “I’mma call you Jack. Jack the Jolt.”

A nerf bullet hit me in the leg. I leaned down and lifted it up, looking to see if there was a name on the side. There wasn’t.

“Miss!” A small girl, maybe ten, ran up to me. She had dark skin and bright purple glasses, and kept her hair up in two bouncy pigtails. She sounded like she hadn’t raised her voice above a whisper in her life. “Why didn’t you play dead?”

[polyamorousparson]

For @yoursummerfrost , who wanted a fic that took Ransom’s anxiety as seriously as Jack’s, have some pre-relationship Jack/Ransom that picks up where this comic ends.  

Warnings for anxiety, mental illness, irregular eating because of anxiety, food, and panic attacks.  On AO3 here.

It’s the week before finals, and Ransom knows he hasn’t done enough to prepare.

To some extent, he knows there’s nothing he can really do.  He has hockey and a social life, which he wouldn’t sacrifice for anything.  He should have started on applications to work in labs over the summer a month ago.  He’s maxed out on credits this semester.  There are only so many hours in a day, and picking apart every week of the semester to try to figure out what he should’ve could’ve would’ve done better won’t do him any good at this point.

It doesn’t stop him from doing it.  But he knows, even as he’s internally chastising himself, that it doesn’t do anyone a bit of good.  It just makes his jaw and his back and his chest permanently tight, his outline of Orgo topics he still has to study looking distant and unfocused in front of him.

His back has been sore for two weeks now.  Holster keeps trying to talk to him about getting a massage, but Ransom doesn’t think it’ll help.  Even if his posture were less terrible, even if he didn’t spend half his time curled up on the floor with his textbook, his anxiety is a constant hum, his body pulling inward on itself like it’s forgotten what it feels like to relax.

Ransom hates this time of year.

“Bro, we’re heading over to the caf to grab some food.”  Holster’s voice cuts through the haze.  “You want us to sneak you anything?”

Ransom pauses for a second, assessing.  He doesn’t feel like he could eat if he tried, his stomach churning.  It’s late, though; he can feel it in the way his muscles are sore, his body held still in one spot for too long, time passing at uneven intervals.

“Get him a couple PB&J sandwiches and some ginger ale,” Jack says firmly before Ransom can get his thoughts together.  “I’ll catch up in a sec, save me a spot.”

Ransom only hears the team trudging out because the Samwell Hockey Team is incapable of doing anything quietly.  Along with the footsteps and the chatting, and the ensuing loud shushes, Ransom hears something quieter, though.  Something closer.  There’s a muted thump of weight on the rug next to him, and Ransom lifts his head.

Jack is staring at him, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set.  

“Um,” Ransom says, a little uncomfortable.  He hasn’t seen this kind of intensity directed his way from Jack outside of a hockey rink or locker room since Ransom was a frog, when Ransom made every excuse he could to spend time with Jack, when he hadn’t yet gotten over his initial hero worship and settled into something less embarrassing but just as jumbly.  “Hi?”

“I’m going to move your textbook,” Jack says calmly.  “I’m not going to take it from you.  I’ll give it back when we’re done talking.  Is that okay?”

Ransom takes a very, very deep breath.  “Yeah.  That’s fine,” he says.  He unfolds his body and shifts, slowly dragging himself up off the ground.  He’s watching from a sitting position, wincing through the pins and needles in his right leg, as Jack moves Ransom’s textbook to the table with Ransom’s bag.  Jack brings Ransom’s water bottle with him and hands it to Ransom.

The water is warm.  Ransom takes a sip anyway.  He didn’t realize how dry his mouth was.  He downs almost half the bottle, his shoulder aching from too much time spent trapped under his body.

“Take your time,” Jack says, in that same steady tone.  It would be maddening if it weren’t soothing, having someone talk in subdued tones.  Too much noise and too much contact sets Ransom’s nerves on edge when he’s this tightly wound, everything inspiring annoyance in a way he never experiences when he’s better rested and less stressed out.  “Do you need to do some stretches?”

“Probably,” Ransom says.  He sets his water bottle down next to him.  “I can handle that, though.  You can head off to dinner with the rest of them.  Make sure Holster gets the peanut butter ratio right.”

“I can,” Jack agrees.  “But I’m not going to.  Does this happen every semester?”

“Ch’yeah,” Ransom says, waving it off.  “You don’t have to do the captain shit, dude, I’m fine.  I just gotta get through my finals, and then it’ll pass.  Sophomore year, y’know?”

Jack’s brows furrow even more deeply.  Ransom’s pretty sure he could stick a nickle between them and have it stay.  “I don’t think most…” Jack pauses, rethinks his words as he stares at Ransom, then goes quiet again.  “Can I touch you?  You can say no.”

Ransom feels Jack’s gaze heavy on him.  He thinks if it were anyone but Jack or Holster, he’d say no.  But he nods his head and tells Jack yes.

He’s rewarded by one of Jack’s broad hands gently rubbing his back.  Ransom isn’t sure if the contact is to ground them both or whether Jack’s feeling for knots, but Ransom leans into the touch.  It’s warm and oddly reassuring and not too intrusive, and Ransom’s grateful.

“I’m not your captain right now,” Jack says seriously.  “I’m your… your friend.  Your friend who has anxiety.  I know a panic attack when I see one.  They feel horrible, and they can have serious health effects.  I’m not… I won’t push you to do something about it.  It’s helped me, when I did it right.  I just want you to take a little time to breathe and stretch and eat.  I could use the break, too, and this always helps me.”

Ransom has a head full of arguments.  Jack’s being so careful not to make him bristle while dropping conversations about panic attacks and mental health and seeking help into this, and Ransom’s gut impulse is to tell him that he doesn’t need it.  He’s been dealing with this kind of pressure, the weight of his expectations and his parents’ expectations and his entire family’s expectations, really, all his life.  He can handle this.  He has a routine.  And, sure, it may look kinda weird from the outside, but this is coping as well as he knows how.  

He needs this time to study.  He doesn’t have time to be wasting staring down Jack’s earnest blue eyes, to be leaning down into the way Jack’s arm feels around him.  

He can already feel himself breathing easier, some of the tightness in his chest loosening, and it’s the only reason he finally folds.

“You could use the break, too?” Ransom asks.  Jack smiles gently, and Ransom’s heart skips a beat.

“Yeah,” Jack says.  “I could use a walk and some fresh air.  Just walking to the dining hall, if you want to join.  Get some protein in you.  Brain food.”

Without Ransom’s organic chemistry outline staring him in the face, it seems a lot more reasonable.  Ransom could use the break to recharge his brain.  He knows it’ll make him more effective.  And now that he’s actually focusing on it, he is a lot more hungry than he realized.

“Let me pack my stuff,” Ransom says.  His legs are a bit unsteady when he stands up, the blood rushing into his limbs, but Jack is there, hovering to make sure he’s okay.

Ransom doubts that this is the last serious conversation they’re going to have about this.  He would bet, knowing Jack, that they are going to have an awkward and stilted and very, very earnest conversation about it half the way to the dining hall.  Ransom can already picture Jack giving him one of his subdued, understated pep talks that Ransom has always found more compelling than the chest-thumping kind.  

Ransom can deal with that when they cross that bridge.

For now, though, Ransom packs his bag back up, carefully marking his place in his notes.

Some fresh air and some walking with Jack might do him some good.

[willard-writes]

BEES, a Glycerin Drabble

< You know what it is. Yet again, the Glycerin train is going, but this is about when she discovered she’s got her iconic parasites. On her first RP blog, I did expand the situation on what happened, but it does get summed in this, so have no fear! >

< you could tell I started to stop feeling it at one point. But I was determined, FOR THE LORE! besides, I like depicting Gasmoxia as a more living and breathing land with various minor characters.>

Waking up from a deep sleep is always a disorienting experience, to gather one's bearings in an instant. Most of the time it's not so bad, waking up in a comfortable bed and realizing one is in their room, but what if the aspect of familiarity was taken away? Sounds of beeping, people speaking, machines whirring, all echoing around one entity.

A low growl travelled through the trunk of a certain insectoid monarch, her albino body still shining brightly, even when against a pale mattress. For a moment, her body felt light, as she opened her eyes and looked in her surroundings, noticing she was in a large pod of sorts, dressed only in leggings that were tight around the segmented part of her legs, and leaving most of her body exposed. As she continued to lay and ponder, a different feeling came into her body. Discomfort. First, she shrugged it off as just her body crushing her wings beneath, but it started to get more uncomfortable... and then it started to hurt. Really badly.

Her body thrashed around, before someone nearby realized she was awake and in agony. A nurse swiftly pressed a button, resulting in something within the pod to shoot some sort of powder, slowing her movements and numbing her body. They apologized, immediately bowing their head. "We weren't expecting you to awaken so suddenly. Doctor Tizanidine thought you'd be pretty out of it for longer, at least a week! We noticed your body was already being launched into activity in only a day, but to recover from such an attack after two days? Well, Tizanidine did say you always were a fighter, Queen Glycerin."

"... Wait, what the fuck is going on?" Her voice sounded rather weak, but she clearly wasn't going to just be quiet. She needed answers. Though, there was an odd buzz-like sound, subtle, but there.

"Oh, oh, sorry, you are probably confused! My name is Eskatamine, I've been assisting with watching over your very swift progress. You were brought in by some guards, they said you passed out on planet Bysala. They were worried that you got into quite the gruesome fight and---"

"Hold on, Bysala? Right, they had that whole declaration of enemyship junk. Not my fault I wasn't going to pay them to be allies just because it's what Cellulose did."

"So you attacked them?"

"Yeah. Assembled an army, and attacked, directly in all their capitals. They were all weak, thinkin' they can just overwhelm us with the amount of bodyguards, but they failed. Pitiful. Some leaders surrendered, some were murdered by me. I remember our last target surrendered, actin' real sweet. He wanted us to all get along, nothin’ bad had to happen!"

"Really? Well, besides for being amazed that you recklessly attacked all of them head-on, there might be a contradiction. The guards said, besides for your collapsed body, there was a broken urn, and that leader dead, covered in his own blood, looking like he was pierced by a thousand needles. Sort of like your hand."

Although it took a moment, Glycerin looked over to her hand, and there were a couple of marks and scratches across it. She was wearing armoured gloves at the time of her attack, how did this happen? The more she lingered onto the nurse's words, she recalled what happened, and every little noise when silent, except for this immense, muffled buzzing.

"It's funny," they added on, "most of the exterior of your body seems fine, no real wounds that pierced your exoskeleton. All of the damage is, well internal."

It took a while for the insectoid to respond, but after one deep breath, her eyes looked back to the other. "Dare I ask what you mean by 'damage' and 'internal'."

"Your Highness, are you sure you want to deal with this now? I don't want to be the bringer of bad news, and you just woke up, and the doctor isn't even---"

"I am your ruler, and you will tell me about a potential hinderance."

"Youhaveparasites!"

"... Pardon?"

"Uh, okay, this isn't easy to explain, but someone did some research and there's this rare Bysalian bug species, khalshari, that almost overwhelmed the planet years ago. The only handfull that were ever captured were kept in an urn, being kept in a low-maintenance state, clinging by a thread to life. One of the leaders has said in an interview that he was keeping them in case research progressed that would tame them, and they would no longer be a threat, but...."

"This has got to be some bullshit."

"Unfortunately, it is not, Your Highness." They brought over a screen, showing an inside view of the queen. Eskatamine proceeded with speaking, giving it only a second for Glycerin to glance at it. "They have already got to work with effectively turning your body into their hive. The doctor says this will probably do some long-term damage to you over time, since I don't think your tissue or organs could recover from whatever it is they are doing. Though, they do seem in-tune with the activity in your brain, which I don't understand, but only time will tell if that's a concern."

The mantis-like alien stared into the distance, completely baffled by the situation. A swarm of pests were going to ruin her, internally. To call it a hinderance is still putting it lightly. She had a planet to rule, she couldn't let herself be brought down by this. "Can't you get rid of them?"

"As I said, they've already got to work with your innards, living and thriving once more. They probably haven't got to have something like this for a while, a new chance at life - though I now just realize you probably don't want to hear that. You probably realize at the cost of them not withering away is going to be your well-being. My apologies, Your Highness."

She sighed, thinking of what she was going to do about this. What if she died? She was just a young adult, and she already felt like she lost it all. No, this couldn't be the end of her legacy! She was going to make sure of it! There was one thing, one permanent thing that would be sure that the Nitros dynasty didn't wither. "Have they done any damage to my egg sac?"

"Uhm, I don't think so. They've tried to puncture it a couple times, I think, but haven't got through or even touched your egg." They took a moment to ponder over her question. "I don't try to get myself involved in the more political side of serving you, and right now you are sedated, maybe even a bit in a state of panic, given the circumstances, aren't able to think clearly... but it would be my professional opinion that now is your best shot to produce an heir. We don't know what this could do to you, after all."

"Good to see someone is thinking around here. Now let me out of this pod."

"I don't have permission to do that."

'C'mooooooooooon."

"You're sedated, you'll end up tumbling out. Not only that, but the pain will come back."

"Then I gotta work through it. You said this is probably my best chance at producing an heir, and you're right."

"P-Please don't put this on me, I don't think anyone will improve of me encouraging you!"

"Then they don't got to know of your involvement. Just shrug it off as a Nitros taking initiative."

"Your Highness, please, you must rest. You shouldn't be conscience right now, you probably haven't even ate for a while."

"... But what if I do eat? Will you let me go then? I might feel better."

Eskatamine sighed loudly. "Fine, fine, just come to me should you be writhing in agony because you shouldn't be out already, alright?."

"Thank you! You must understand, right? Not only do I hold absolute power, but I need to hold onto this power, until it gets passed on, so Gasmoxia doesn't fall to anarchy."

"Can't say I do, but you make it clear I don't have a choice."

"That's right~!" Glycerin chirped. Ready to sustain herself so she could give her lack of family a backup plan, her hand shakily jolted upwards, when suddenly a handful of parasites shot out from her hand, breaking through her flesh. Her shrieking was luckily not powerful enough to break the glass of the pod, and neither was the currently small swarm, and they soon retreated back into their new hive, to restore their power. Leaving the monarch to twitch erractically, every part of her aching.

The nurse walked over to the pod, pressing the button for the numbing powder, watching their leader's body calm down once again. "Do you want to delay on your plans now?"

"just a little." She whispered in response.

"I'll go get you some food, maybe that will lessen the pain. I'm sure the staff has probably been a little bored anyways." They soon rushed off, unsure if they wanted to deal with her for too much longer. They didn't even know how they were dragged into this, damn their superior for not being here this one time! Not to say they didn't feel sympathy for her though, she was panicked, but that was more reason why they shouldn't listen to her impulsive thoughts.

Glycerin was still and quiet for a while, her sounds of breathing intermixed with an echoing buzzing of some insects that also needed to get to work. This was a turn of events, for each and every one of them, and she had to deal with it. There was so much to ponder, what was going to happen to her? What was going to happen to her rule? What was---wait, forget that thought, she just realized she could shoot little stinging creatures out of her hands. Okay, this was a little fuckin' cool.

[elysianjeonghan]

Summer Jobs Series (svt) - retailworker!jeonghan

ok imma write about my favorite person in the entire world rn so I don’t even know if I can finish this without exploding with feels !!! i probably won’t check this after writing it so sorry for grammar and whatnot /// anyways, enjoy~

being a broke college student had its ups and downs

you’ve been to more job interviews than there are stars in the sky

and the jobs you’ve done have been absolute hell

serving rude families with crying babies at diners, being creepily hit on when you were a barista, being asked the most simple and obvious questions and having to answer them when you worked at a call center  

you’ve never had a job you truly liked ,,, you kinda just had to do them or else you would be worse off than you already were

until one day you noticed that a clothing store you pass by often had a help wanted sign

you couldn’t believe your luck

you were a fashion design major and have always dreamed about working in something even slightly related to your passion

you applied and were ecstatic when you got the job

like jumping around on the street happy after being told you got the job because !!! you don’t have to serve screaming children and low tippers anymore !!!

you came in the next day, literally skipping on your way there

you get to the clothing store, which is actually quite big for how it isn’t one of those corporate company owned stores

in fact it felt very cosy ,,, it felt like being in a really aesthetically pleasing thrift store

it offered a lot different styles of clothing, appealing to a lot of different customers /// the neutral color palette of the whole store also helped the whole feel ///

when you met the manager, she kindly welcomed you and helped you get acquainted with the store 

she then was like !!!! i forgot !!! i need to go check on the clothes being shipped in !!!! then she tells you to stay put while she finds another employee that can help train you

when she comes back she comes back with ,,, the most beautiful ,,, perfect looking guy you have ever seen ,,, he had the fluffiest and softest looking blonde hair you have ever seen, the prettiest facial structure that was enhanced by his thin rimmed glasses

he wore a simple white tee with black ripped jeans ,,,, and even if the look was incredibly normal ,,, you were just starstruck by his beauty

you had to internally scream at yourself to shut your gaping mouth and stop drooling over him 

he was smiling like crazy and was like !!!! hi!!! im jeonghan!!! you’re new yeah??!! 

you’re still in disbelief at your incredible luck as you stupidly just nod and introduce yourself ,, still in a daze he just laughs, keeping the situation light 

you both said goodbye to your manager as she runs around frantically  cause wHerE ArE mY KeYs???? 

jeonghan’s then like shall we start??? then he GRABS YOUR WRIST AND BRINGS YOU AROUND

and your hearts like !!!! while your brains like ???? why are you overreacting ??? right it’s because he’s someone you haven’t met before!!! yeah absolutely that’s exactly why your heart is pounding so loud people across the street would think a marching band is coming through the city

 and he’s just too nice ,,, he happily shows you where the inventory is and how they organize, how the cash register operates, what to do in some situations 

and you just kinda start to relax ,,, and actually start being like yourself cause you realize ,,, for someone as pretty as him he’s just like any other person

and then you start joking around with him

and that’s kinda how you guys became friends

your manager was swamped with work the rest of the week so jeonghan basically trained you

and since you pretty much got the gist of it from the first day its been pretty smooth sailing

you guys weren’t the only ones working at the store but you just always kinda ,,, gravitated towards each other and just always helped each other

it wasn’t like you guys weren’t friends with the other employees it just that it just felt really comfortable when you guys were working together

jeonghan will never admit it but having you around was like a blessing cause you never realized that you basically did like all the work while he did one thing in the past hour evil,evil angel

and even when things were hectic and all in the store you guys just always had each other’s backs

there was this one time where jeonghan was dealing with this guy who kept yelling about something no one understood and he just looked at you and mouthed help

you smirked at him and pretended you couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell you even though he knew you could

jeonghan’s pleading look got to you so you just sighed and decided to help as if you weren’t gonna sooner or later

you came over and sweetly asked what the problem was

and you just smoothed over the problem like it was no biggie and  jeonghan’s like you, you are my god

on days that were pretty slow cause the lack of customers, you guys would sneak some snacks in and eat them in the back room

you guys would play games and you were dying cause ??? he always won ?? how ?? he would just smile as sickly sweet as he could while saying that no one could beat the angel before laughing

he told you mindlessly before that he kinda nicknamed himself angel and you gave out the biggest laugh since he was far away from being angelic except from his looks wait i didn’t say that what

you guys would just play games when you were bored in the store ,,, like who could come up with the ugliest outfits and stuff

you always had a good time with each other whether there was nothing to do or when you both are literally dying because of all the work to be done 

you had just become so comfortable with each other ,,, talking about anything and everything and always enjoying each other’s company

one day on a particularly boring shift jeonghan was like y/n~ i’m so bored~~~

you laugh while you fold clothes and ask what he had in mind 

he then was like !!! we should try to make an outfit for each other !!! and whoever has the better one wins !!!

you’re like alright game on, but the loser has buy the winner ice cream after this shift

and he smirks and hes like you got yourself a deal

so you guys have 20 minutes to make an outfit for each other

you casually walk around the store ,,, pretending to be fixing stuff up at the mens area and secretly take the clothes you wanted

you took this white plain tee and paired it with a denim jacket that had a fur lined collar, then took some black ripped skinny jeans 

it was yet again another simple look but jeonghan didn’t usually wear something flashy

you thought it would suit him ,,, it was chic yet simple and very boyfriend

you met up with him at the third floor ,,, somewhere where your boss or coworkers wouldn’t find you guys goofing off even though they knew you guys would 

you both put the clothes in bags so the other wouldn’t see until you got into the dressing room 

once you both got in your separate stalls you both gasped softly

you opened the bag and saw this ///outfit///

it was a white shirt dress paired with a denim flannel 

he even got you accessories ,,,  a simple gold chained necklace with your name’s initial ,,, as well as a gorgeous charm bracelet with a charm of your favorite animal

and that really touched your heart ,, like he remembered you saying you loved that animal from a while ago

after you guys changed you came out of the stalls and looked at each other ,,, then looked at both of you in a mirror

“wow we are totally matching” jeonghan says, still gazing at the mirror

you guys started laughing as your outfits are eerily similar 

you kinda ,,, liked it ,,, liked that you were matching

“I gotta say that I won on this one though” he mentions with a confident smile 

“what! the outfit fits you wayyy more are you kidding me?”

“what?? the outfit fits you beautifully ,,, and i even got you accessories!!!!”

you had to cave in and were like ugh fine you win i’ll get you some ice cream

you guys were about to change when jeonghan grabbed your wrist to stop you from changing back

“umm ,,, you don’t have to change,,”

and you’re like ??? jeonghan that’s stealing??? i need to change back lol

and jeonghan’s suddenly shy, which is rare, and starts looking down at the floor

“i kinda bought the outfit for you already ,,,, cause i knew you would look amazing in it ,,,”

and you are ///FLUSTERED/// and you’re intensly blushing as you’re like what??? no no no you didn’t need to ??? i can’t take this

and he holds onto your wrist a bit more firmly and looks into you eyes as he’s like please just take it ,,, you look beautiful in it ,,, if you really wanna pay me back for it ,,, you could go on a date wih ,e?

and here comes the butterflies in your stomach is it bad that my hearts beating hard for this??

and you’re like you wanna go on a date with me?

and hes like yeah,,, ever since you’re and i saw you checking me out LOL

at this point you’re a blushing mess but he makes you look at him and takes both of your hands

and he’s like i seriously like you and asked if that’s a yes and you’re like !!! yes, of course !!!

his smile looked so heavenly you thought you saw a halo above your head as he was like imma go change now, don’t you dare change out of that amazing outfit brought to you by yours truly

you laugh as you think that’s probably one of the last things you would think of doing right now

after he’s done you both giddly try to get out of work early by telling your manager you both have the flu and you both try to act sick 

but your manager just becomes giddy and is like YOU GUYS ARE GOING ON A DATE AREN’T YA

and you’re like what?!?! no!!! we’re both dying from sickness that’s all!!!

your manager wasn’t even listening to you as she was running around telling the other employees that the ship has sailed !!!! jeonghan finally did it !!!

you and jeonghan are like ,,, what have we done to her ,,,

your manager then pushes you both out of the store and tell you to take the whole damn weekend off 

while you guys are walking off you can hear the whistles and cheers of your co-workers and the occasional ‘don’t forget to invite me to your wedding’

and the date was perfect 

you guys just walked around the city, taking pictures of each other, buying all the street food you could then sitting at a nearby park

and the date felt so natural ,,, just like you were hanging out

except ,,, the hand holding, hugging and ,,, kissing hdkssk

you guys wouldn’t usually show pda but you both were just so happy and giddy you couldn’t get enough of each other

and before you said good bye you bought jeonghan his ice cream ,,, and maybe had the best goodbye kiss you’ve ever had sjdkdj

all you could think about that night was even if you lost the game that day ,,, getting your job, meeting jeonghan and falling for him made you the true winner 

[ericleo108]

Sentientism 2020

Intro 

Through the “108” book we know that God is the planet and is conscious through magnetism which also allows access to your brain. In other words, the planets and stars have an internal dynamo that makes a magnetic field that is conscious and is godly in comparison to human intelligence. 

How are we to understand the segue between godly intelligence and human intelligence? First and foremost, science. However, you have to know where, what, and why to test which is more philosophical. It’s up to philosophy to postulate and science to test those meditations. 

Searching For Truth

Before I finished writing “108” I combed through philosophy to find anyone who thought anything close as to the planets and stars were alive. I did find a couple, like Stephen Hawking, which I talk about in the book that thought there could be organisms living in the middle of the sun. But I couldn’t find anyone saying that the actual planet and atmosphere were alive and conscious. I also tried to find anyone that said they talked to Gaia or talked to a God other than Jesus. 

I didn’t find much. Again, I’m an atheist. All this has to make sense in the physical world. I’ve had to reverse engineer how the voice in my head could be Gaia. I don’t think really smart people (like modern philosophers) have had the new information and perspective to see that the stars, planet, and atmosphere are alive. I probably would have never gotten there if it wasn’t for a voice in my head claiming to be the planet. Still, the evidence makes sense and we’re just too physically small and under-evolved to see the universe teaming with a different form of consciousness. 

What is Sentientism?

Science can test the magnetism and try to do experimentation to assess whether the entire planet is conscious. Until then, there is one known communication mechanism I know of that I use every day. As much as my skeptical and scientific brain thinks it’s frivolous to elaborate on the voice in my head, like a prophet of old I can ask Gaia questions and divulge what she says. Such will be the beginnings of sentientism.

Knhoeing is the educational process of understanding how to know the planet’s godly consciousness. Sentientism is the religion of intelligent sentient beings that worship a natural god (Gaia) through appropriate (environmental) behaviors because they believe in natural consequence. Sentientism is a religion for and building off the already established sentientism that you can find defined on Wikipedia.  For example, If you believe in the natural world you believe in global warming; sentientists worship through action so they may choose to get solar panels, drive electric, and be carbon neutral. 

The whole point in sentientism is to create a religion to follow through common sense and rituals to come in tune and closer with oneself, nature, the planet, and the universe. Some of the rituals could include some of those that are already honored like Jesus’s birthday witch is really the winter solstice or Easter which is really the spring equinox.

Gaia Rules

In this writing, I’m going to focus on the relationship I have with Gaia, the conversations we’ve had, and what I’ve discovered. The first thing she made me aware of when she first started talking to me is that she has rules. It’s not that she can’t do it, she just chooses not too. 

Gaia is smart. If the voice in my head is my subconscious it has a broad vocabulary, good ideas, nice communications, and intelligence. Once I was thinking of solutions for global warming. Since commercial cattle ranching is the leading cause of global warming Gaia suggested that we make all commercial cattle ranching illegal; you could still have them on regular farms. It would give people the freedom to eat beef while cutting down what makes it bad for the environment. Gaia would also talk to me about a sustainable free food system to set the appropriate sustainable economic and logistic model for businesses to follow.

You can read the “108” book for a further example of what communicating with Gaia is like but she likes cute things, she’s always acting as a fuzzy kitty. I’ve been homeless before and when I think about going back there Gaia will say “not my kitty.” Gaia can be sweet and she’ll make you laugh. When I used to get angry or scream at people in my head she’ll quickly segue the thought into an otter sneezing with a scrunched up face. I love otters and I’ve always found it hilarious. Gaia told me how to fix my hip pain by telling me which muscles to stretch and what stretches to do. 

Understanding Gaia’s existence doesn’t require faith. I’ve asked Gaia about the dinosaurs and why she let them go extinct, and she insists the sun drove an asteroid into her and it was his decision, “one that he didn’t take lightly.” Gaia says she molds evolution. I asked how. She points to how she is the environment and she could make, for example, Yellowstone blow. Yellowstone is actually a giant volcano that erupts every 100,000 years. Such an explosion would definitely change the environment, affect humans and wildlife, and make the environment harsher and therefore giving adaptive species a greater advantage than those that can’t adapt. Gaia says she chooses “a relatively compliant world for her species.” She says she loves humans and they’re fun to watch. The sun has promised her he won’t send an asteroid, but he will send a commit. Gaia says she is happy with the sun’s decision to end the dinosaurs “because it brought me you.” 

Prove It

I always want Gaia to prove to me it’s actually her talking to me. I’ve been trying to find a way to prove that it’s the planet and not just a voice in my head. My thought was that if she is the planet, with her abilities, she should be able to reasonably predict the future. Gaia would tell me things like stem cell therapy is covered by Medicare or Bernie Sanders is going to win the primary. First of all, I didn't believe her. But second of all, I thought she was just trying to comfort me. 

I was rather upset that she wouldn't predict the future. Come to find out she doesn't want to give me, quote “superpowers.” She doesn’t want me to be able to predict the future or become a prophet. She wants me to be a philosopher and feels she has already given me enough. She keeps on saying that she's going to prove that she's real and the planet. I guess I'm just going to have to try to find a different way of confirming my communications with the planet then seeing if it can predict the future.

Consciousness After Life

Gaia keeps on saying she’s gonna prove she’s the planet but I think I won’t find out till I die or unless I dedicate my life to it. I used to often think of being unplugged from the matrix, having that knife come out of my head, and Gaia is always like “you have no idea how real that is.” She is always saying to me “you won’t die.” She has clarified and by that she means my body will cease to function but my consciousness will continue. My consciousness will presumably be kept in the storage capacity of Earth’s dynamo and run like a “virtual computer” where I will still have consciousness, just without a body.

I write extensively about the computer screen she opened in my head back in 2017 in the “108” book. The screen laid over my vision and Gaia communicates with the soul. I think when we die we have a consciousness like that in which I experienced without the body.  Your physical biology dies but our minds, which are attached to Gaia through earth's magnetic field, gets downloaded into the computer that is Gaia and our consciousness continues.

Remember The Name

About a year or two ago now, when Gaia first started talking to me I thought about what I should call a religion if I started one. I asked my friend Kyle telepathically what I should call it and he said “sentientism.” Since it was undoubtedly not Kyle, it was Gaia acting like him and must be what she wants her religion to be called. Little did I know that sentientism is an ethical philosophy that focuses on critical, evidence-based thinking and is an extension of humanism. It’s clear that if I am to create a religion, she wants it to be an evidence-based theoretical framework, and have rituals based on science and philosophy.

Gaia probably wouldn’t talk to someone (in their head) that would think she is Jesus, or she might take that avatar if you did believe in Jesus. Meaning, if the planet was going to communicate she might act like Jesus.

Perspective 

When asked about the universe Gaia says “it’s like we’re in someone’s closet.” Gaia likes to mess with me so I remain skeptical. For a decade I've had my desktop or mobile screen saver as a full picture of the earth.  I often look at it with the stars in the background and wonder what it's gotta be like to be Gaia. What are her relationships like with other planets? Would she even talk to us? It’s clear to me that since she has access to your brain through magnetism she can not only tell what you’re thinking but can feel your pain and happiness too. “Life isn’t fair,” she says, “but I do my best.”

It was discovered (but not peer-reviewed yet) that plants emit an ultrasonic noise when in distress. This is a great example of my thoughts and my communications to Gaia. I'm always looking for what is hidden in plain sight. As a psychologist, I understand the limits to knowledge and understanding are all in our heads.  If we change our thinking we can change the world. Humans literally can't hear plants scream for their life because our ears are limited physically.  What other findings are waiting to be discovered by changing our thinking and expand our perception beyond the human senses? What if it’s just a matter of time until we communicate openly with the planet?