#i really wanted this to look like a scientific poster

[pikpiksoup]

Piktober Day 2: Life Form

I couldn't choose just one life form

[galacticsuperstitions]

the minds of a lab at three different points (LONG rambling under the cut)

I am constantly in awe of the analyses people put out about Arknights on this website. I feel like my own interpretations are somewhat lacking as a result, but I was confident enough to post this, at least. I've had this idea for a long time now, I think since Lone Trail released, but I've only been able to make the time for it now.

Rhine Lab has so many fucked up elements and people involved in it that it's actually impressive. They were really gunning for "most unethical scientific consortium" reward. Really, though, it's just the result of Kristen gunning for her parents' wishes. All of the directors want something and all of those somethings are different.

Things I want to mention or just feel proud of (allowing myself this because of how long this took):

-I was originally planning on crossing out Saria's surname to reflect that we still don't know what it is in canon, but I don't know why whoever has this poster would do that, so I just kept it in. Hermon refers to Mount Hermon, which Saria's name apparently derives from. Technically, her name here is the same thing twice. Oh well.

-I don't know who this poster belongs to. It's just in some Rhine Lab tech's personal desk, I guess? Doesn't explain the doodles, though. Maybe they were bored and feeling spiteful about the potential job insecurity of your boss being comatose in space.

-I realized only while making this post that I made Saria's, Muelsyse's, and Jara's doodles reference Kristen, yet Kristen's only references herself and her parents. Completely unintentional, but appropriate nonetheless.

-I am so happy with how the poster came out. It makes up for how hard I had to fight Canva for it to come out like that. Here it is in full if you want to look at it closely for whatever reason. (writing an actual description for this thing was fun!)

-Andenate doesn't actually have a face under the sticky note. That's why he's still Mike Wazowski'd in the poster png. I didn't feel like drawing one since it wouldn't be shown in the finished pieces anyway. His jacket is just the same as Magallan's.

-Ifrit's picture board was a literal last-minute addition. It's why the images are sketches rather than being in the lineless style of the poster. It feels fitting, though, so I'm keeping it that way. Seeing Ifrit all grown up and doing so well in Lone Trail was wonderful. There's something in her being happy and healthy and also surrounded by not just her loved ones and friends from Rhine Lab, but also people outside of it. She's cultivated her life to be as fulfilling as she wants it to be, and while there is still room to grow, she has plenty of support and insight from others for it to do so. I may be misrepresenting her a bit (the sleepiness doesn't help), but man. I love Ifrit. She's so cool.

[the-kr8tor]

LOSER HOBIE LOSER HOBIE LOSER HOBIE…

The requests are open?

Then I shall make a request 🤭

Do you know about secret Santa??? Basically it’s where people have to randomly pick their person to whom they will give smt (a gift). And now imagine Hobie has a big and deep crush on you in HS and then he has to get you a gift. He’s just so sweet and thinks his gift out and through for you and when you find out it’s him that got you the most amazing gift, he’s super shy and stuff. 🥰 (maybe he gets a lil kiss at the end, and then he just doesn’t know what to do and can’t sleep at night, debating if he should ask you out. Maybe a shared Christmas night 🙈)

Take your time and enjoy writing, no rush!! 🫶🏻

LOSER! HOBIE!!!!!!! 😍😍 Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned wearing hair pins before) CW food mentions, High school AU, Hobie has a crush, loser! Nerd! Hobie, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Your whole class is sat around in a circle, giggles floating above whenever it's someone's turn to give their secret santa a present. You've written on your wishlist that you wanted anything that has anything to do with music, whether it's a poster of your favourite artist, a record, or a pair of headphones, you'd be happy for anything really. The atmosphere is filled with glee, the food that everyone bought for the party sits on a long table. Holiday cookies, cakes, and soda were primarily the common food brought for the potluck, save for a few spaghetti, and barbecue brought by someone who had the foresight to bring something that isn't sweet.

Chuckling at your seatmate who got the ugliest puppy plushie you've ever seen, you don't notice Hobie, aka your maths tutor and the one you've befriended the whole year, shuffling in his seat. He sits adjacent to you, eyes glancing towards your smiling face from time to time. You're well aware of his crush on you, everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. All the side glances, soft touches and the way he occasionally stutters whenever you scooch closer to him at the library are direct evidence of his attraction. And you can't deny that you feel the same, even playfully hinting at your own affection for the said man blatantly in front of his face. The whole class watches the obvious crush and ongoing train wreck that is you and Hobie tip-toeing around the feelings.

So when Hobie got your name from the bucket of names, he was beyond ecstatic, albeit terrified of what he's going to get you for secret santa. Add the fact that you might've picked his name amongst the list has him fidgeting in his seat. It has his nerves on high alert.

He tries to act cool when it's his turn to hand the gift that he painstakingly made for you. The gift consists of countless hours of him sitting with his cassette player, back aching and eyes heavy from staring at the familiar titles of songs that you like most and categorising it to best fit the theme or mood he's trying to convey. With his breath stuck in his throat, he stands up, lanky legs untangling from the crossed position, almost tripping himself over from his untied shoelace.

“Teach!” The nickname you've given him has his heart jumping in place. Your smile widens at who picked your name, the rest of the class watch on with bated breath. “What'd you get your favourite student?”

He softly smiles, handing you the magazine wrapped gift that's topped off with a sparkly red ribbon. “A scientific calculator.” Joking, you feign an offended gasp whilst the class snickers at your known enemy that is maths.

“If it's a calculator then that means I won't need you tutoring me anymore, Hobie.”

Your classmates look at you and then to Hobie, waiting for a clever or even a flirty retort from him. They're used to the back and forth between you two, but you always seem to win and with Hobie walking away with a flustered look and clammy hands.

“Nah, it just means that you've graduated from usin’ a regular calculator.”

The way the whole class rolled their eyes simultaneously in disappointment would have the earth rotate in reverse. You and Hobie are incredibly oblivious to it all. How could he take his attention away from you when you look at him with such fondness? And how could you look away from him when he looks so adorable with his bottom lip all bitten from trying to tamp down his own smile? He looks handsome when he's flustered, more so when he's staring at you all smitten.

Smiling, you wrap the end of the ribbon around your finger. “Can I open it now, or will we just stare into each other’s eyes well into new years?”

Clearing his throat, he finally notices all the eyes on him and you. “Sure, love.” The moment the term of endearment escapes his lips, he swears he heard someone from the circle squeal quietly.

“Okay!” your smile doesn't fade the entire time you were carefully unwrapping the present. Your heart skips a beat at the bundle of mixtapes in your hand. “Oh,” eyes swelling up with happy tears, you can't believe that he remembered every single song you mentioned in passing during the hours of his tutoring. You flip through the pile, each having different titles that fits the songs he mixed together written in his own hand. There's countless doodles dotted along the tapes, each having their own Hobie flare.

Your sudden quietness has Hobie queasy, he suddenly feels like he made the wrong move. “I—” starts, and you immediately spring from your seat to hug him. Before he could get over the shock of it all, you're already unlatching yourself from him. The look on his face is worth a thousand words. His eyes are wide, mouth agape as sweat dribbles from his forehead. It's the middle of London winter, and yet he feels like he's about to melt into a puddle.

“This is amazing, Hobie. Thank you.” You embrace the tapes, placing it right above your heart as you stare at him with so much affection that he would think that you reciprocate his feelings. (You do.)

“You're welcome, love.” His trembling hand reaches for yours. With trepidation, he instead moves further to cup your elbow, thinking that he's not quite ready to hold your hand just yet. Or that you're not comfortable with him holding you when in fact you want it just as hard as him.

With your teacher calling your name and the sound of the entire class’ squealing and teasing has died down, it's your turn to give your gift to your secret santa. Which unfortunately for Hobie, he's not so lucky to be the recipient of it.

Throughout the whole party, you can't stop yourself from glancing at him across the room. And he can't help but look at you amongst the crowd. But you two always manage to miss each other's loving stare.

After the gift giving, it's time to eat. You barely heard the call because you were too busy with reading each of the cassette tapes and the song lists that are written on each one. And Hobie was too busy trying to fend off his friends’ teasing to have a chance to grab a plate or even talk to you.

Once your friend taps you and wakes you up from your longing, you stand up to grab a plate. Coincidentally, Hobie's already there right next to the table, getting a slice of red velvet cake.

You inhale deeply, despite your more blatant flirting and unabashed teasing, you're nervous to talk to him now that you truly know that he really does like you. That he likes you enough to listen and remember the things you talk about when you're so used to people doing the opposite to you.

“Hey, teach.” You duck to look at him whilst he fights with the cake. “Or should I call you Santa now?”

He almost jumps in place from the sudden appearance and the close proximity. “Fuckin' hell.”

The knife almost falls from his grip, but you're there to catch it without managing to nick yourself or him. Grinning, you help him cut a piece of cake.

“Sorry.” You chuckle as you place the slice on his paper plate. “What'd you get for secret Santa?” Placing the knife down, you lick some extra frosting off of your finger.

He feels like he's being tested by the universe. “A l–lock pickin’ kit.”

You raise a brow, laughing. “You asked for that?”

Shrugging, he smirks. “Might come in handy. Yuri was the one who got me. Y’know how she is.”

“It's because of that one time you lock picked the gym with my hair pin so that we can grab the volleyballs from the storage room isn't it?”

Hobie nods with a smile, “yeah, that and for stealin’ back all the confiscated things from Mr. Burns’ office.”

Your laughter is contagious, making him laugh as he stares at you with endearment. “So it's for the benefit of everyone then?”

“Yeah, don't have to borrow your hair pin anymore, lovie.” His eyes wander all over the place except for your eyes. Knuckles shaking from how hard he grips the paper plate, heart beating louder than the speakers that are playing all the greatest hits. “Have you given it a listen yet?” He points at the mixtapes tucked in every available pocket you have.

“Not yet.” You shake your head, staring at him through your lashes as he flicks his eyes over to yours only to move away once he meets with your own. “I left my player at home.” He nods once, and you can feel his mind giving him second thoughts about his gift. So you immediately remedy it by holding onto his bicep, fingers gently wrapping around as he freezes in place. “I really did love the present, Hobie. It's well thought out, and—” he blinks at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly from the anticipation. You gently tug him closer, twisting to fully face him even with your own bashfulness trying to stop your next words.

“— And, do you want to listen to it together?”

“Together?” He asks, and You nod sheepishly. “Together, together?”

“Yeah, if you're free.” It's your turn to second guess as you shuffle your weight on your feet from nerves. “I want to listen to you talk about how you chose the music. And why you think they all pair well together?” You wait for his rejection.

He feels like he's dreaming. “I've got notes,” he said, matching your gentle smile. “I'll listen to the whole bloody thing with you, love.”

You sigh, relieved. Leaning forward, you cup his cheek, hand still unsure, hovering above his skin as you press a feather light kiss on his other cheek. He stands there, chest rising and falling, cake forgotten, and shock evident on his face. Now he knows that he's not dreaming.

“It's a date then.”

[animalsalvationassociation]

Calling all Octo-Agents!

Yes! You! Please read till the end, and if you don't have the patience/energy for it rn, come back later! It'll be worth it I promise!

So the holidays are now pretty much over, (except for New Years ofc, but I digress.) meaning I've been looking for new ways to improve my Au. You see, it's come to my attention that I'm not as organized or as thorough as I thought I was.

I've created a lot of lore/characters for this Au, but not very many people really know what's going on anymore. Even I get lost, and it's been a little frustrating ngl. So, seeing as this blog is officially over a year old, I think it's time to "fix" my mistakes and take a new approach.

Ya'll might've noticed that I've been slowing down on content. I haven't been spending as much time on my art, meaning the quality (well I wouldn't say it's gotten worse) hasn't been as strong as some others I've created in the past.

(Don't get me wrong, I'm not making a resolution for the new year, that's dumb and we all know those never last.)

So here's what I'm promising instead since this clearly is the only thing I'm allowed to work on at the moment (not saying I don't have other projects, but if I want to actually publish this story at any point I'm going to have to spend as much time as I can on it, meaning I have to make some sacrifices - RIP my FNaf's & Undertale fanfics)

1. Full Character Redesigns

Taking all the core characters (The Octonauts / Octo-Agents / Y.N. & Fae / The A.S.A. / C.L.A.D.E. / etc.) and giving them a full reference sheet with details, headcanons, and an updated design.

Creating family/relationship tree for those characters (parents/siblings/love interests/etc.)

Family/Team “Photos”

Crossovers (I will still be doing multiple crossovers and soon they will get their very own redesigns!)

2. Updating the Master Post

3. Updating the “Pinned” Blog Post

For reference this will no longer be the current top post with all of the A.S.A. members, but a poster I will create for the fanfic to make the blog appear cleaner. (I won’t delete that post I’m just going to unpin it since the designs are old and not as useful as they used to be)

4. Asks will open January 1st, but I will not start answering any asks before February 1st!

That is so I can properly prepare and reevaluate the blog’s content so there is more information available to anyone who wants to ask questions for the Octonauts/Octo-Agents.

5. A.S.A.’s Rating & Genre (Fanfic)

This story will now be classified as Cryptozoological Fiction, with partial Horror / Science Fiction & will be drawing straight from Folklore & Mythology. (For “Sci-Fi” don’t think space/aliens, think Cryptids in a scientifically evolved world.)

The rating is now PG-14

(Poll Results)

6. Fanfiction

This is really for the fanfiction itself. I’m still trying to figure out how to go about this. As of this current moment I have 1, maybe 2 chapters written out, and soon I hope to have more. However I am my own editor/beta reader, so it might not be as polished as I’d like to be, but I’m just going to have to accept that.

Unless I can find a bunch of people who can do that stuff for me, for fun, that’s the state this story will be in. You’ll have to have patient with me, I’m using all the tools I have at my disposal (Grammarly, Google Docs, LibreOffice, etc.) but I am a human with heavy ADHD and reading/comprehension disabilities, so please be kind.

7. Weekly Posts

I will still be posting weekly, just not on Tuesdays. I realize it’s only been stressing me out to post on that day every week and so I’ve been abusing my attempts at a proper sleep schedule because of it. I still work a very busy retail job and will have to get a secondary job sometime soon, so unfortunately you’ll just have to add me to your notifications if you want to know when I’ve posted.

8. The Future . . .

This one is for anyone who’s gotten this far. I want you to know that the Octonauts still mean so much to me. Even if we aren’t getting updates anymore, the community is still somewhat alive even if it's only a few of us. Maybe one day we’ll get our kickstart, but for now I will continue making content until I’m satisfied with the story and it’s ending. If I stray every now and then, that’s just because I have the attention span of a goldfish with a million hobbies and fandoms that constantly need attention. I love you guys and I promise to do my very best to make my mark on the internet, even if it’s for a silly kids show about talking/walking/nerdy animals who save fish every day.

9. January's Posting Plan

Week 1: Finishing the Octonaut's Headcanons

Week 2: My Christmas gift to the Community

Week 3: Silly Y/N & Fae Content (No it doesn't make sense, deal with it)

Week 4: Screencap Redraw

Week 5: Starting Redesigns

If you made it this far . . . here's a cookie and the secret formula.

🍪🍾

[cyten0]

A Symphony In Crimson

Act 1: A Movement in Black

Chapter 9

The house has been much nicer this time around. It feels like everyone is working together a bit better, there’s a closer bond of trust. The others were quite surprised by Bonnie’s marksmanship! But honestly, all of them seem a little stronger.

The first floor has been a breeze really. Which is good, since it means you haven’t had to take any hits really. Nothing to try and cover up. Plus, the party has taken less hits, which means less temptation. Stars you’re hungry.

You’re sitting down for snacks when Odile does their coinflip thing with Isa. Looks like they lost this time.

▲ “What was that about, madam?”

◆ “Ah well. I asked the Favor tree to win my next coin flip.”

✿ “Huh?”

◉ “Such a silly favor.”

◆ “Purely for scientific reasons. I wanted to see if there was anything to this Favor tree business. As we can see, apparently not much.”

The others look a little disappointed by that, and you’re just a little hurt for some reason, as usual.

▲ “… Well you didn’t put any belief into it, so of course nothing happened! Sif actually told me a bit about that!”

Huh! Oh right! You did!

◆ “Really? Tell me more.”

Oh STARS yes, you get to talk more about this, it’s so cool! It still hurts your head to talk about, but it’s SO WORTH IT!!!!

✦ “Using favor trees, and the right steps, you can call energy from the stars! The trees aren’t the only way, but its certainly one of them! But in order to do so, you have to care about what you’re wishing for, otherwise they won’t feel compelled to answer you. You can do all the steps perfectly right, and not get a thing! But if you care enough, you can get something even if you do nearly every step wrong.”

✿ “Woah! That’s so cool!”

◆ “I’ve never heard this before…... Oh, Is this a field of study from your homeland?”

Oh, they remembered! They must have spent some effort doing that. You nod.

◆ “Fascinating. How effective is this method?”

Heh, time to shock them all.

✦ “Well, it might not have been a favor tree, but. I bet the king used a similar method to get Timecraft!”

◉ “WHAT!!!”

▲ “Oh Crab!”

◆ “You’re Certain?”

✦ “Like I said, That power comes from the stars. It’s no coincidence his armor is decorated with them.”

✿ “Oh yeah! The poster!”

◉ “Does that mean ANYONE could do that? And be just as dangerous?”

No it’s not that good but… Hm… It hurts your head but...

✦ “No. Getting that much power would not only require an insane commitment, but would require really lengthy, costly, and complicated rituals that would take months in order to draw from enough stars.”

◉ “Oh thank change.”

▲ “Makes you wonder about his motive though…”

Huh. Isa’s right, it does mean the king is awfully dedicated. Big wishes like that take effort…

A wish like that is probably why your here, right? But you still need more information. This gives information as to what it is, but it doesn’t make sense why you’d be here. Your wish was way too small, can’t be that. If only you could read that book in the storage room, the picture on the cover makes you think it might be about wishcraft.

But trying to remember a language from barricaded memories of memories is a few steps of separation too many. And your head still hurts a TON from yesterday.

Ah well. You’ll figure out, bit by bit. Your making progress! It’s only been… Hm. You haven't kept track how many times you’ve looped. Might want to ask loop about that. Anyways, it’s time for snacks, and you’re super hungry! You’ll try and cut down just a little bit, but that’s gonna be a tall order.

>>>

You’re in the library. Your eyes got caught by the diary again, and Mirabelle is reading it out again. Then the others start talking about the country. It’s hard to listen to it again.

✿ “Still…. The name of that country…. What was it again?”

▲ “Oh, I think it was something like A-”

You all suddenly get a massive headache as Isa tries to say it! Your head feels like it’s going to split open it hurts so blinding much! It hurts so much you can only see red! You cover your eyes so they don’t notice. It hurts it hurts it hurts!!!!

But…. Then… The pain…. Subsides…..

You look up. That. Didn’t happen last time. What… Odile. She stopped Mira from interrupting?

✿ “Ow. Crab, that hurt way more then I thought.”

◉ “Ow ow ow… Madam, why did you let that happen?”

◆ “Gems, that hurt…. Siffrin?”

She… She did that for you…? Just so you’d have a chance to? You really don’t deserve that. Others shouldn’t have to hurt for your needs. But….

✦ “….. Starts with an A. Heh. It’s something!”

The others give puzzled looks, as you slot the diary back into the bookshelf. That one. That helps a lot more then just Siffrin. That’s for all of them.

>>>

You’re on the third floor, in the room with the person doing bodycraft again. Key is obtained, but you’re a little bored, so you decide to take a look at the closet.

▲ “Oh, look at this shirt! It’s the same material as your cloak, right Sif?”

◆ “It looks very warm. I’m surprised you managed to wear it all through summer.”

Right. This cloak was one of the first things you ever had. You never questioned it much.

✦ “It’s actually quite cool? Never get hot in it really.”

◉ “Really?”

▲ “...Sif, mind if I take a look real quick?”

Huh! You're a little nervous to have him so close, but… Okay. The only wounds you’ve taken are covered up well enough, so it… Should be fine, right?

You nod. Isabeau kneels and takes a hold of your cloak lifting it up and examining. it. You can feel his breath against your body, feel the warmth exude from him, hear his heartbeat so keenly, smell his body and it’s taste, feel the slight tugs and motions as he handles the fabric... It’s hard to focus.

▲ “… Holy Crab… This is some impressive work.”

✦ “Huh? What do you mean?”

▲ “Okay, starting on the simple side, It’s got a very interesting stitching style. Not very Vaugardian at all, and seems to focus on being highly durable. Like, borderline armor durable. It’s even fireproof. Difficult to pull off. Plus it’s been treated to be stainless as well.”

◉ “Huh! That’s some good traveling cloths.”

▲ “Oh that’s just the beginning. Someone decided to take this already impressive cloak, and literally stitch craft into the fabric. And not just a little, there’s a bunch! Self repair, temperature regulation, it even adjusts to your size! And to top it off, while you can’t tell normally, some of the fabric inside glows a little in dark places, showing some interesting patterns!... Hey, they even sewed a little butterfly emblem on the inseam!”

✿ “Woah! That sounds REALLY fancy!”

▲ “Honestly Sif, this cloak alone is practically worth an entire village?!? Where did you even get this?”

… You don’t speak. You remember Siffrin was important in his homeland. Guess you got an idea how important.

▲ “… Oh. Hey, it’s alright! I’m sure they’d be happy with how you’ve used it.”

✦ “… Yeah.”

The others are confused, but you move on. It’s fine.

>>>

Got the third floor handled, and got food at the bathrooms. Odile didn’t interupt this time, even though you ate a lot during the snack breaks, maybe because of the increased trust? And now you’ve obtained the Keyknife! And are back at the entrance…

Hm. You wonder. You’re curious about that statue. You remember Mira mentioning that these statues are connections to the Change god. Who’s is the one that blessed you?

✦ “Hey, Before we go ahead, I want to check something”

◉ “Huh? Okay, let’s go!”

>>>

You’re back in the statue room. You’re not expecting anything, but you ARE curious about it. You take a closer look.

Hm. Not to judge but… Oh, Looks like the others are judging instead.

✿ “Can noses look like that?”

▲ “Wow, it’s left eye is somehow above the right brow.”

◆ “I can’t tell if it’s smiling or frowning.

You notice Mirabelle is oddly quiet. You had suspicions but...

✦ “...Mirabelle?”

◉ “I… I was trying to make it look nice and gentle…”

▲ “CRAB, MIRA WE’RE SO SORRY!!!!”

✿ “SORRY WE SAID YOUR STATUE SUCKED!!!!”

◉ “It’s alright…. I’ll get my revenge on you all someday.”

The others shudder, and you smile a bit.

Hm. So this is Mirabelle's statue, huh? A connection between her and the change god, the only one unharmed in the house, and the one that gives you this blessing each time...

✦ “Mira, can you put your hand on the statue?”

◉ “Um? Okay, sure?”

She puts her hand on the statue, and suddenly, the room shifts!

You’re both pulled into that strange realm again! But. You’re still here? You havn’t been teleported, you’ve been brought…. Elsewhere.

You look around. It’s nothing but pure white as far as you can see. There’s a faint humming, in that sound only you can hear.

There’s a figure approaching. You don’t know what to do! Wait is that?

◉ “Euphrasie?”

Is that the name of the Head Housemaiden? They seem a little surprised, but then…

❍✿ Incorrect buzzer

❍✿ “mirabelle!!! i can't believe u can't recognize me ಠ_ಠ"

They’re wearing Bonnies face now?

◉ “Wait you changed shapes?!? Are-”

❍◉ “yay!!! o(≧▽≦)o got it so fast! it’s me! The Change God ＠＾▽＾＠”

You’re stunned. You can’t move. Wait, Mirabelle’s crying!

❍◎ “oh no don’t cry! i didn’t want to make you cry (╥﹏╥)”

◉ “I’m so sorry!!!! For not changing enough, for being useless, for lying and making everyone think you blessed me, for-”

❍▲ “nonono you’re all good! ( : ౦ ‸ ౦ : ) i’m not worried about any of that. you’re a-okay!(≧◡≦) “

◉ “Huh?

❍✿ “if I was upset, i wouldn’t have helped you all earlier! (⁀ᗢ⁀) but I did because I’m rooting for you. both of you!”

H-huh! They… they are?… Mirabelle dries her tears, and seems happier.

❍◆ “i’m about to tell you something, that you won’t remember for a lot of reasons. well, your brain won’t, but your heart will!!!”

❍▲ “it’s true that, as the Change God, i can’t do much to help you all. but i feel okay with that, because you all have the real power! you’re really strong mirabelle! ლ(ಠ益ಠ)ლ”

❍◎ “just the will to change things is enough to do anything! and look how far you’ve gotten without my help!o(>ω<)o but if that’s not enough…”

The figure’s form dissipates, revealing a single, small, cloaked figure, with the face of the statue from earlier. For a brief second, their voice feels different.

❍ “You are loved, mirabelle. i see you changing, even if you do not. you are always changing, evolving, growing. and even if you’re not, that’s ok. Because life might be about changes, but sometimes it’s about staying right where you are, sometimes. i’m proud of you, and i love you!”

She looks at them not sure what to say. You’re just happy to see her happy at this point.

❍ “and i love this stupid face you made me and i’m never letting anyone destroy it!!! got it?”

Mirabelle gives them a hug. The figure seems surprised! But allows it.

◉ “….Thank you. You’re not what I was expecting, but I’d expect nothing less. Thank you so much…”

❍◎ “hehehe…. euphie is right, you’re super stinking cute!”

Mirabelle lets go, and wipes away her tears.

❍✿ “okay! that’s your special god call! i’ll send you back now, but i’ma chat with your friend here a little more!”

◉ “Huh? WAH-”

In a blink, Mirabelle is gone. It’s just you and the change god now…

Their disguise melts. Their form shifts. Their cloak billows out and grows to tower over you. Their face pure shadow. As they speak, their demeanor shifts, ever so slightly. Their voice echoes in the unheard sound only you hear. The space fills with twirling shapes.

❍ “Sorry to keep you waiting. But I wanted to talk to her first. She needs those words desperately, and has been waiting for them from me for a while now!”

✦ “I-I um!”

❍ “It’s alright!!! I know. I know. About the island, about the timeloops, about who you are and... It’s okay…. I-I’m sorry I can’t help you much! It made me very happy to see my little gift helped make you happy!!! Y-You’ve been through a lot.”

You… They care. They care? And they did know? They know and… and you’re crying. You’ve stopped holding your eyes in shape, your horn is out, your heart glows, you just collapse. And you’re crying.

❍ “I um!! okay, maybe you just need a second to let it out a bit? Oh, I’m not very good at this….”

They give you a hug. You can barely breathe through the tears. They know what you did, this being that cares so much for life, and yet… Hearing them say it, hearing them tell you they care even despite everything...

❍ “...You know, for a lot of people, I’d be kinda upset at the whole ‘locking a major place of change in time’ thing, but I know you’re trying, and you don’t want to do that. Just like you didn’t want to hurt those on the island… I’m sure you’ll find a way to fix it, and you’ll make good use of the time. I’m rooting for you.”

✦ “I-I!!… thank you…I don’t know if I deserve it though….”

❍ “…. I have a message from my partner. A patron of your home.”

Huh?!!!

They pull back a bit, still holding you, looking you head on with their void of a face. And sing, in the voice of the stars:

Oh dear and precious fallen star

We’ve seen you travel, long and far.

Through trials filled with pain and fear

We know you’ll hold to all that’s dear

So sing your song, o mournful Dove

But know that you have always been Loved.

You… You feel hands. Hugging you. Not the change gods, but ones that feel… familiar… Feel kind. Feel like…

You see tears drip down from the Change Gods hood. They’re crying? Why are they crying for you? You killed so many… you don’t deserve it...

❍ “You have always been loved. Not as Siffrin, but as you….”

They pull you close again. Your tears mix with theirs as they pool into the space below you.

❍ “Y-Your cloak was made so you could wander the streets... Your tinkers tools so you could make things yourself…. That device in your pocket to show you the world when it wasn’t safe for you to be out... That gun so you could defend yourself even when you didn’t trust yourself up close... Your skill with music was taught because it helped you talk and they wanted to hear your voice… and…. And….”

You can’t… You can’t stop crying…. They… were for you? All along? But…. But…

❍ “And I wish I could have done something!!! You shouldn’t have had to deal with any of this!!! So please, please!!! Don’t forget that!!! Don’t forget that people have loved you always, no matter what!!!”

❍ “…You’re so young. So young for what you are. You shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”

You… you hug them back. Stars, you need to hug them. You need to hold them close. You wish you could hug these figures you barely remember, tell them you’re sorry, wish you could remember who they were. Wish you could remember why they cared for you. And… at the very least, you’ll hold close someone. You need to hug SOMEONE. The Change God hugs you tighter.

❍ “...I… Can’t keep you here for much longer. So. Don’t worry, I’ll give you the keyknife as many times as you need it, I’ll wait for you to get out of this, and… I’ll be rooting for you. Okay? Just promise me, you’ll remember what I said?”

You struggle to speak through your tears. You… really were loved…

✦ “…Yeah. I will. T-Thank you…”

You feel them fade away, as the room starts to form.

You put yourself back together as it does. Physically at least. But the tears aren’t stopping. You turn towards Mira. She’s crying a little too.

✿ “HEY!!!!”

▲ “Mira, Sif! Are you both alright?!”

◉ “What… just happened? I can’t… Siffrin?”

You can’t speak. You can’t stop crying.

▲ “SIF?!? Are you okay? Say something!!”

✦ “S̴̯̕orry! I just… I…”

You can’t help but laugh. You… You feel a bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow. You don’t know how to process it at all.

◉ “I think we experienced something… Incredible? But I can’t remember it anymore.”

You do. You’ll never forget. You won’t let yourself. You take a deep breath, and dry your tears.

◆ “Are you alright now Siffrin?”

✦ “I… Yeah. Come on. We have a king to beat.”

You smile. It’s bittersweet… You want to remember them. So badly now. They loved you, they cared for you. And you can’t even remember a thing about them…

No. One more memory surfaces. They said… they said…

It takes strength to see what you want from the world. Don’t give up on it ever.

You HAVE to find a way to remember them. You can’t let them be forgotten, not a second longer, not when you’ve gotten so close… But… You’ll need help… and there’s only one person who’d try. Who COULD help.

It’s time to meet the king.

✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸

...There’s a look in Stardust's eye.

This loop was doing so good. They’re all happy. They deserve that. They’ve been at this for a while, even if they aren’t aware of it. And the change god was very kind to say that. But…

Stardust isn’t thinking clearly. They haven't been for a while. The last two they remembered clearer because you fed them proper food, but it’s not easy to get that. And you have this sinking feeling things are going to take a turn for the worse. Very fast.

You hope you are wrong.

[ask-the-dunmeshi-biologists]

What does a scientist illusttaor do? I wanted to be one when I was little, and even though I have different dreams now, I still practice drawing plants and animal around me as best I can when I'm at parks and such.

This is going to be really silly, cuz I know objectively it's an important job, but like, um, what do scientific illustrators do for science aside from make realistic illustrations for animals? What exactly does the kob entail? Is it fun? Sorry my question was definitely worded rudely I'm not quite sure how to ask it I just genuinely want to know how scientific illustrator niche fits into the wonderful world of science!

[Velwyrm: Hello there! Scientific Illustration, although not outwardly impacting research, is a fundamentally incredibly important part of the school of science! I’m glad you asked, because there is SO many amazing things that you can do with this skill.

Scientific Illustration is the skill of drawing accurate, precise drawings of scientific diagrams (bio, chemistry and physics all use these). They can be very simple, such as those seen in textbooks, or incredibly detailed, like many of the dinosaur illustrators we see today that use the most updated information available to visualise what the animal would have looked like. This is very important in the context of museum specimens and paleobiology, as fluid preserved specimens quickly bleach & loose colour, and bones can only help people visualise an animal so much.

Scientific Illustration is also used outside of the context of scientific research (though it is used in various papers and posters to gain funding, e.g. in medicine). For example, in advertising, marketing, raising money for volunteering organisations (clearing invasive species — sometimes illustrations are vastly clearer than photographs when IDing) and childrens books, or animal dictionaries that I used to love reading as a kid!

If you or anyone else is thinking of pursuing this career or hobby, then helps to have a degree in biology or other sciences (especially illustrating for medical purposes), but you don’t necessarily need one if you’re very very lucky. There’s a few short courses on Skillshare for animal illustration if you want to give it a try, but I personally would recommend getting a degree in one of the sciences though as it would open a lot more doors and opportunities.

Art and science truly do go hand in hand!]

[toboldlygohome]

Hold Me Closer

Mark Watney X Reader

Chapter 1

Summary: You were looking forward to your month on Mars, but what happens when a month-long mission becomes indefinite? Will you and Mark make it back home, or were you doomed from the start?

Character(s): Mark Watney, Chris Beck, Melissa Lewis, Beth Johanssen, Alex Vogel, Rick Martinez

Warning(s): Cursing, Injuries

You stared out the window as you ate, watching the endless expanse of darkness spin around the ship. A week from now, you would be on Mars, conducting geological surveys and testing core samples. You were a chemist first and foremost, but you were also sort of a jack of all trades aboard the Hermes. You could fix things, run telemetry, conduct space walks, keep the plants alive, identify minerals, and of course you had a fair bit of medical training. It was because of your proficiency for all things scientific that you landed yourself a spot in Ares 3.

The excitement practically radiated off of you. You were so stoked, you couldn't even eat the food in front of you. So much to see, so many samples to run! You hoped there would be signs of past water in Acidalia Planitia!

"You know Y/L/N, the food is supposed to go into your mouth." Beck strolled in with his water bottle in hand. Evidently he was here for a refill.

"Thanks for the tip, doctor. I'll keep that in mind." You said before shoveling a spoonful of rehydrated ravioli into your maw.

"You looked lost in thought there, wanna share with the class?" He asked as the water reclaimer slowly filled his bottle.

"Just thinking about Mars," you shrugged.

"Ah, for a second there I thought you were thinking about your botanist," Chris smirked.

You stared daggers into his back. "My botanist?"

Beck grinned at you over his shoulder. "Well who else would you be thinking about? You've got such a wistful look in your eyes, I thought for sure your mind was on him."

"You really need to stop with the teasing Beck. It's a small ship, it'll get back to him eventually," you grumbled.

"Look, I just call it like I see it."

"Well, you're seeing wrong."

"You've been more and more distracted lately, there's no way it's only because of Mars," Beck chuckled. Dammit. You hated when he was right. You did like Mark, but let's be honest here. Who wouldn't like Mark? He was funny, smart, and he looked way too good in his grey flight suit. Completely unfair.

"God, you can be so annoying," you laughed.

"Only because I'm right."

"Mark and I are just friends, that's all we're ever going to be. Even if we didn't work together, and for the government no less, there's no way he'd ever go for the likes of me."

"What makes you say that?" Beck tilted his head curiously.

"Have you seen him?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Dude, he's like the second most attractive person on this ship!"

"Second?!"

"Objectively speaking, Johanssen is the first. Her posters sold out like hot cakes!"

"I know Johanssen is first! I meant, how is he second? What about me?"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Who's the one who got the super sexy Under Armor ad again?"

"... Y/N? How many times have you watched that ad?" Beck laughed.

"Shut up."

"It must have been a lot for it to be this fresh in your mind."

"Don't you have a computer nerd to go flirt with?"

"Don't you have a botanist to ogle?"

You groaned and pushed your food away, but Beck scooted it right back. "Fine, fine. No more teasing for today," he laughed. "Just make sure you finish your food, it's important that you eat well."

"What if I'm not hungry?" you asked.

"Eat anyway, doctor's orders," Beck sassed as he left the dining area with his water.

You snickered and poked at your ravioli. If only you could just follow your heart like Beck. He was set on Beth and nobody was going to keep him from her. You just hoped he'd wait until after the mission to make it official for the sake of his career.

Of course you wanted to date Mark. Beck wasn't wrong on that front, but relationships are strictly prohibited among crew-mates. Maybe if you didn't work together, you might have worked up the courage. Probably not, but it would have at least been an option.

You slowly ate the rest of your cold meal and tried to think about anything else. Anything but the plant-loving engineer who had a choke-hold on your heart.

~~~

Mark groaned and climbed out of his bunk. It had to be at least two in the morning... at least according to the Kennedy Space Center. Jeez, he was starving. Luckily their food reserves came with snacks for just such an occasion! He exited his quarters and looked toward the room beside his. The door was open, which was quite a surprise. You were normally asleep by now, and Martinez was keeping an eye on the telemetry tonight. What were you doing awake?

Watney made his way to the dining area and took a look at all of his options. Hmmmm... trail mix it is. He grabbed a bag and took the ladder to the zero g portion of the ship. Everything was quiet except for the hum of the ship and Rick clicking his pen in the cockpit. He decided not to bother the pilot and instead went in search of his favorite crew-mate.

He found you floating in the cupola with your earbuds in. You watched as Mars inched ever closer, calling you to its surface. Mark couldn't resist the urge. He grinned mischievously and grabbed your ankle, causing you to yelp in surprise.

Mark laughed as you smacked him on the shoulder half-heartedly, "Mark! you scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry, sorry!" he floated up and settled beside you. "I saw an opportunity and I had to take it."

"Jerk," you laughed and returned your focus to the lonely red planet.

"What are you doing up?" Mark asked.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I was hungry," he caught a floating peanut in his mouth and looked at you as he ate. "And you?"

"I couldn't sleep. I'm too excited," you admitted with a smile. "Ever since I was little, I wanted to go to Mars... I can't believe it's actually happening."

Mark smiled gently and watched as your eyes sparkled with adventure. That was one of the things he loved most about you. He loved seeing you light up when you learn something new or complete something for the first time. And for the few instances you failed, he loved watching you gear up to try it again. Nothing could shake you when you had your mind set on something. (He wished you had your mind set on him...)

This was a lifelong dream of yours, something you'd thought about, planned for, and fought tooth and nail to achieve. Now here you were, watching all of the pieces fall into place. Mark felt so lucky he got to be on this mission with you, that he'd get to see every moment of excitement, every vivid dream become a reality.

"What are you listening to?" he grabbed your earbud and stuck it in his ear. He grinned.

Hold me closer, tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen, you had a busy day today.

You scooted closer to Mark so he could listen with you, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. Oh what Watney would give to stay with you like this. Floating softly, slowly, taking in the view. He offered you his bag of trail mix with a cheeky smile. You laughed lightly and grabbed a bite. Fuck. He loved your laugh. He would listen to it on repeat if he could.

"Hold me closer tiny dancer," He mumbled along with the song as the chorus kicked back up.

"Count the headlights on the highway," you whispered back.

~~~

Finally.

Mars was so close, you could almost touch it! And here in a few hours, you would be~

You suited up for your ride in the MDV and helped Martinez and Johanssen with the pre-flight checks. Mark and Beck were loading the descent vehicle with everyone's personal items and Vogel was making sure all of the Hermes experiments were on autopilot. Commander Lewis oversaw the whole operation and kept in contact with Mission Control about the progress being made.

Once all the checks had been made and all the cargo had been loaded, everyone piled into the MDV and prepared for descent.

You took a deep breath as you checked the on-board navigation. You were really going to make it! You were going to walk on Mars! You checked, double checked, even triple checked your numbers before giving Lewis a thumbs up.

"We are go for separation," she told Martinez.

"At your command," Martinez said, poised to initiate the separation.

"Launch," Lewis said.

Your heart rate increased as the MDV shuttered out of the docking port. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my GOD!

"Approaching ten meters from Hermes," Johanssen said.

"Engine power readings are nominal. Ship internal pressure is stable." You said, unable to keep the excited quiver from your voice. The cabin was quiet for a few minutes. The tension could be cut with a knife. It wasn't a bad kind of tension. It was exciting, like teetering at the top of the world's tallest roller coaster.

"Approaching two kilometers from Hermes. Go for engine start up," Beth said.

"Martinez, go for engine burn," Lewis said.

You squeezed the arms of your seat and closed your eyes. This was the hardest part for you. You'd worked in the International Space Station before and reentry was your downfall. What was worse about entering Mars was that there was no water to break your fall if you crashed.

You felt a gentle pressure on your hand and looked up to find Mark already watching you with a smile on his face. He squeezed your hand as the MDV inched closer and closer to Mars.

"Hanging in there?" he chuckled.

"By a thread," you joked.

"You got this, tiny dancer," Mark winked.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. You both listened as Lewis and Martinez went back and forth calling out each action they performed. Mars completely filled the window.

You held onto Mark a little tighter.

~~~

The actual mission started off promising enough. The landing was good, setting up the Hab was a breeze, and life support was running at maximum efficiency. Unfortunately, life seemed to have this obsession with throwing you curve balls.

You scowled as you watched the screen while the storm outside raged on like an angry god.

"Jesus, we're gonna end up in Oz," Watney said. "What's the abort speed?"

"Technically one fifty kph. Any more than that and the MAV's in danger of tipping." Martinez said.

"Any predictions on the storm track?" Lewis asked.

"This is the edge of it. It's gonna get worse before it gets better," Johanssen replied.

"All right, prep for abort. We'll go to the MAV and hope for the best. If the wind gets too high, we'll launch."

If only that were the end of your misfortune. You literally had the audacity to think: 'How could this get any worse?' You got your answer when Mark was struck by a piece of flying debris. His vitals were offline, his suit depressurized on impact. He was likely dead, but still you were searching for him. The only trouble with that was you couldn't see two feet in front of you. The dust was thick and the wind was threatening your stability.

"WATNEY!" You called out, hoping the urgency in your voice would stir your friend from his incapacitation. "Watney, please respond."

"Y/L/N, I need you to get back to the MAV," Lewis ordered.

"But he could still be-"

"This isn't up for discussion. MAV. Now."

"I'm not leaving him behind. I know if it were any of us, he wouldn't give up. Not when there's still hope we could be alive."

"He's dead Y/L/N. W-we need to go, please," Beck pleaded.

You closed your eyes and forced down a cry. You didn't want it to be true, but Beck was right. Of course he was right. You were in denial... Still, you couldn't do it. If he was dead, you needed to see it for yourself. What if the numbers were wrong? What if-

You were struck with a sudden, blinding pain.

"Y/N!!" Lewis cried.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went dark.

~~~

Mark awoke with a gasp to the sound of beeping in his helmet.

"Oxygen level critical." A robotic voice said, causing him to pant heavily. His abdomen really fucking hurt. It took all his willpower to sit up. When he looked down, he found the source of his pain. The antenna for the com dish had turned him into a human shish kabob! He let out a cry as he tried to keep the antenna steady. Every movement sent a shock through his tired body.

Watney paused when he heard static in his helmet.

"Wa---y... W---ey c--- -n. Watney, If yo--- the-- please respond!"

"Y-Y/N?" Mark winced.

"Watney! Oh my god!" You sounded on the verge of tears. "I thought you were dead! I've been trying to call you for hours!" You sniffed and leveled your voice as much as you could. He could tell you were still coming down from your emotions. "What's your status?"

He groaned and pressed his head against the sand bank. "I've been impaled. Small puncture. Feel like shit," he said through heavy panting.

"Can you make it back to the Hab?" You asked.

"Yeah, I'll make it. I don't think it's deep enough to kill me." He stood up and immediately screamed.

"Mark! Are you okay? What happened?!"

"Antenna is still attached to the dish," he said through gritted teeth. He made quick work of the wire and struggled to his feet. "W-where are you? What's your status?"

"I'm trapped under the MDV. It plowed through me when I was looking for you. I'm not sure you can get me out in your condition."

Mark looked around and found the partially-mangled MDV a short distance away. Watney clutched his side and hobbled over, fearing the worst. He choked when he saw you. You were being crushed from the waist down by a fucking space ship. "O-oh my-"

"It's not as bad as it looks. I landed in some really soft sand. I managed to dig myself out from underneath, but I hit something solid and now I'm literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. The sand shifted under the MDV and now my chest hurts, but I can still feel my legs," you sighed and closed your eyes. "You need to get back to the Hab, Mark-"

"I'm not going to leave you." He grunted as he stepped closer. "If I lift this thing, can you pull yourself out?"

"Mark that's-"

"Can you?"

You grimaced and nodded, "Yes."

Mark nodded back and racked his adrenaline fueled brain for an idea of how to get you out. Still panting, he grabbed a metal bar from the ground and shoved it under the MDV. "On three," he said.

"One."

"Two."

Three."

He shoved the bar down and the ship eased up just enough for you to drag yourself out. You screamed as a searing, blinding pain ripped through your ribs. Mark felt his stomach drop at the sound.

He reached for you, but you pushed yourself into an unsteady standing position. "Fuck," you bit out and stumbled forward. "M-Mark" You inspected his wound. "Come on, we have to get this treated right now." You wrapped a supportive arm around his back and helped him shuffle back to the Hab.

His panting and gasps had only grown more pained as he stepped into the empty habitation. What little adrenaline he had left was wearing off. You rushed out of your suit as quickly as possible and helped Mark undress.

"Do you want to pull it out, or do you want me to do it?" you asked with as much calm as you could muster.

"I'll do it," he bit out. After a series of short, shallow breaths, he ripped the antenna out with a gut wrenching scream. You didn't have time to feel distraught as you shoved down his suit. He placed his hand on the wound. "There's something in it," he managed.

"Sit down," you ushered him to a chair and slid on some gloves. You made quick work in cutting away his shirt, administered a series of injections for pain and infection, and grabbed the retractor and forceps. "I'm sorry Mark, there isn't time to wait for the medicine," You didn't hesitate to insert the retractor and open the wound. He tossed his head back and blew out a long, shaky sigh. You bit the inside of your cheek and grabbed the object with the forceps. Carefully, you pulled it out and sat it in a dish. Mark groaned deeply. He was so pale and sweaty. You wanted to reach out and hold him, but you had a job to finish.

With the hard part done, you were able to relax and clean him up. The stitches were the final step. By then, the medicine was kicking in and Mark's strangled cries slowly turned into steady breathing. You leaned back in your chair and relished in the sound before standing up. You felt around your ribs for a moment and huffed before grabbing Mark some juice.

"Thank you..." He said, taking the bottle with shaking hands.

"You're welcome," you sighed and carded your fingers through his damp hair.

"Are you okay?" He rasped.

"I'm fine, just a couple broken ribs on the right side. I'll live." You gave him a tight smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just ran a marathon," he chuckled, then winced.

"We should get you to bed-"

"Not yet," He shifted awkwardly in his seat. "There's an elephant in the room..."

"Ah," you sighed and sat down across from him, pushing away the pain in your ribs.

"What are we gonna do?" Mark murmured.

"Our odds aren't the best, but we'll make it work," you reassured him though you weren't sure it was the truth.

He closed his eyes and blew out a sigh. "You should be safe on the Hermes..." He swallowed. There were many stupid nights he wished you and him were the only two people in the world. Now he was beginning to realize how selfish that was. You were trapped on Mars because of him. If he hadn't have stopped to suggest the stupid rover plan, none of this would have happened.

"You should be too," you pressed a hand to his knee, sending a trail of goosebumps up his leg. Even now, you had him entranced with a single touch. "We should both be on our way home right now, instead we're here. But we're trained for this... We'll make it back, we're just gonna be fashionably late is all," you gave his knee a squeeze and pulled back.

"Can I see it?" he asked.

"See what?"

"Your ribs."

You opened your mouth to disagree, but decided a second pair of eyes on it might be for the best. You slowly lifted your shirt. Mark paled again as his eyes fell on your ruined abdomen. The whole thing was covered in splotches of purple and blue. Your back wasn't much better and he was sure your chest had received similar treatment.

His fingers ghosted over the bruises. "Shit," he whispered.

"It'll buff out," you lowered the hem of your shirt.

Watney closed his eyes and wished that this was all a nightmare, but upon opening them again, all he saw was you. You looked exhausted. No, exhausted was an understatement. There wasn't a word in the English dictionary that could describe your expression. You were devastated and trying to hide it. And why wouldn't you be? You had an endless supply of family and friends expecting you home. He only really had his parents to worry about. You had your parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, all your university and work friends... It should have been him and only him. You didn't deserve to be trapped here, least of all with the lowest ranking crew-mate on Ares 3.

"So, we're in a Hab designed to last 31 days..." You thought out loud. He could tell by that look on your face that you were puzzling through something.

"If the oxygenator breaks down, we're gonna suffocate. If the water reclaimer breaks, we die of thirst. If the Hab breaches, we'll explode. And if none of that happens, we starve to death." Watney said, giving in to the hopelessness of it all.

"If the oxygenator breaks, we have the spare. It's built to last 5 days for seven people. With only two of us, that will be... 30 days. More than enough time to fix the oxygenator." You thought out loud.

Ah, now he saw what you were up to. "If the water reclaimer breaks, we build a piss distillery while we fix it..." Mark corrected his earlier statement.

"We'll do bi-weekly checks on the Hab canvas to look for tears." You leaned back. "But you're right. Food is our biggest problem. We're gonna be a couple of hungry, hungry astronauts in a few months."

Mark laughed and shook his head. "Looks like we're gonna have to science the shit out of this..." He looked at you and was pleased to find you smiling back at him. "But that sounds like tomorrow-Watney's problem."

"For sure," you snickered. "There is no way I'm doing all that math tonight."

His heart fluttered as he watched the grin spread over your lips. Your enticingly soft looking lips... What is wrong with you Watney? Stop thinking about that! JEEZ... Creep... Anyway, just a moment ago, Mark was ready to give up. Now he had a little more hope that everything would turn out fine. Today fucking sucked, but tomorrow was a new day. Things are only hopeless when you give in to fear, and it was clear you had no intention of giving in.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"You should run for President when we make it back."

"What?" You laughed and clutched at the spot above your broken ribs.

"I'm just sayin' I'd vote for you," he shrugged in a playful manner.

You sighed, "what am I gonna do with you, Watney?"

"Make me your Vice President?"

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'll settle for Secretary of Agriculture."

"How about the Secretary of Homeland Security?" You smirked.

"But that's the bottom of the line of succession," Mark grunted as he sat up.

"Exactly," you laughed before groaning and cradling your side again.

"Alright, that's enough for today," he pushed himself into a standing position. "No more laughing for... how long does it usually take for broken ribs to heal?"

"Like, six weeks."

"I knew that," he smiled and helped you stand up. "No more laughing for six weeks."

"What you're asking for is impossible," you winced. "You always make me laugh. It's why you're my best friend."

"I'm your best friend?" Mark asked, unable to hide his surprise at the admission. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your back, worried about making the pain worse in his attempt to help you.

You huffed and leaned into him, "don't let it go to your head, Watney."

"Too late," Mark smiled and led you slowly to your bunk. It wasn't easy for either of you to maneuver with your injuries, but eventually you managed to get settled.

"Comfy?" Watney asked.

"That's a relative term," your eyes softened at him, causing the botanist to go all weak in the knees. What a mess he had gotten himself into... "Are you sure you don't need help getting into bed?"

"You took good care of me Y/L/N, It doesn't hurt so much anymore thanks to you... Maybe if the President thing doesn't work out, you could be a doctor," He leaned his bare shoulder against the ladder.

Your eyes trailed down his chest to the bandages keeping the stitches from view. Your eyes started to burn, but you pushed it down and looked up to the bunk above you. "And take Beck's job? As if~"

Mark could almost believe things were normal. That they weren't all alone in a desolate wasteland. You were an anchor. He wasn't sure what he'd do if you weren't here. Would he have the strength to try? This would have broken most normal people... was he one of them? Or was he like you? Brave, selfless, and full of resolve to keep going. His chest hurt. You had gone looking for him... and now you were here. It was his turn to be your anchor.

You felt his eyes on you, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet them. You felt pathetic. Once again, Watney had to pick you up when you were down. For as long as you'd known him, Mark had been your helping hand. He had a sixth sense about these things. The moment things go wrong, he's there to dig you out of the rubble. You closed your eyes and remembered being in orbit. You remembered how he covered your hand with his and made everything okay again. You couldn't keep relying on him like this. It was your turn to be his helping hand.

"Somebody's sleepy~" Mark cut through the silence.

"It's been a day," you sighed and dragged your eyes to meet his.

"A sol," he corrected.

"Smartass," you fought the urge to chuckle. "Go to bed, before I get up and make you..."

"Don't need to tell me twice," He raised his hands in defeat. Mark moved to leave, but paused and grabbed your hand. "Hey Y/N?"

"Y-yeah?"

He gave your hand the gentlest of squeezes, "you're my best friend too..."

You glowed as the smile reached your eyes.

"Don't let it go to your head," he winked.

"Too late."

You held onto Mark a little tighter.

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

Taglist: @jolovesfandoms

If you would like to be added to my taglist, feel free to reach out!

Thank you for reading!

[my-head-is-square]

Sidekick

I used one of the alternate prompts for day 1, as I couldn’t come up with many ideas from the prompt list. This is the movie universe, but very inspired by the book because I really missed Meredith in the movie.

There were others, before Ballister. Nimona always sought out other misfits, others who were as hated as her. Some were better than others--one of the people they had sidekicked to turned out to be actually evil, going so far as wanting to murder them. Nimona left that situation the second she figured out they were just a piece of meat to him. But the most memorable of them by far, baring Ballister, was Meredith Blitzmeyer.

It was about a century or so before she met Ballister--Nimona didn’t remember, she stopped keeping track of time a while ago. Flying cars didn’t exist yet, and the Institute was somehow stricter than it was before her and Ballister dismantled it. Meredith was the first, and only, that Nimona didn’t find through wanted posters. They found her at a fair.

They were slinking around through the edges of The Kingdom as a cat when she came across the science fair. She wandered the fairgrounds aimlessly, bored by the majority of so-called scientific discoveries that were really just excuses to sell something. But when they glanced over at Meredith’s booth, she was intrigued.

Meredith’s booth was virtually empty, everyone steering clear of it. She was set up with a strange green device that Nimona didn’t pretend to understand even after she read the sign. “Anomalous Energy Enhancer”? Yeah, that meant exactly nothing to them.

So Nimona slinked over with ease, as no one was in her way because no one was there in the first place. She wiggled around a little before jumping onto the table of the booth, sniffing around the device while Meredith fiddled with something inside a cabinet, meaning she’d yet to see them. Nimona watched her carefully for a second to be sure she was entirely busy and not about to turn around before stepping closer to the green device.

It was small and circular, with many screws and a bunch of moving parts and it looked more advanced and complicated than Nimona could understand. It wasn’t that they weren’t smart, but science was not her thing. They were the sidekick, not the inventor. She batted at it a little with her pink paw, careful not to knock it over. It seemed sturdy enough, and it glowed when they touched it. She batted at it a little more, forgetting that they should be careful right now, and flung their paw at it hard enough that it rattled atop the wooden booth.

“Hey!” Meredith said, looking up at the noise. Nimona couldn’t see her eyes behind a pair of large scientific goggles. She stood up and shooed at them, Nimona dodging her advances easily. “What are you doing, you miscreant! Don’t touch that!”

Miscreant! The nerve of this woman! Nimona swatted at her hand, and she seethed when their claws managed to scrap a few small lines of blood from her. Meredith clutched her hands and leered at her, to which Nimona merely huffed proudly, head held high in victory, before jumping off the table with their tail swishing behind her.

Curiouser and curiouser, Nimona thought as she made their way from the fair. The strange goggle woman had seemed different from all the other scientists there, albeit just as rude, and even more interesting was her device. It had sent a spark up their little cat body when she touched it, like an electric shock. Her body still buzzed a little from it, and when they were far enough away she tried to shift into a bird to fly away.

But she couldn’t. No matter how hard they tried, shifting wasn’t working. It was increasingly frustrating; what was wrong with her? Shifting always worked! They couldn’t remember a time when she couldn’t shift, but--

Finally, the electric shock wore off, and just as it did, Nimona was a bird flapping their wings unsteadily. They proceeded to fly away after they regained their balance, but it still shook her to the core.

She would have to investigate this scientist. For her own safety, of course.

[giantkillerjack]

Yo I don't know if anyone else is seriously bothered by this but those "good luck" posts where everyone goes wow this post really works you HAVE to reblog it or else you won't get the good thing that happens when you reblog it and therefore it's your fault if the good thing doesn't happen because you didn't reblog the post,

Yeah, those posts. They don't ummmmmmmmm

They don't work.

Like, listen, a little prayer of good luck to give yourself hope is one thing, but every single one of these posts has a comment that is like "this is literally magic I received life-altering amounts of money because of this post REBLOG THIS NOW." And assuming these accounts aren't just also the original poster emotionally manipulating people - And brushing over how foolish/cruel it feels to give false hope and additional tasks to those in poverty AND moving on from how absolutely shitty these posts are for people with compulsion-related disorders or difficulty discerning reality--

it feels to me that the more we make up magic that doesn't exist in this world, the harder it is to see how things really are, and the more it obscures from us the magic that actually does exist. Things like magnetism, electricity, human thought and connection, emotion, storytelling, machinery, fire. That's the sort of magic we have in this world. These magics are real and they can be manipulated in miraculous and terrible ways.

And maybe it's just the way my mind works, but if I am able to convince myself that a photo of a four-leaf clover has any amount of cosmic power over my life, then I am no longer looking clearly at my situation and what I need to do to change it. I am no longer able to truly see the magic that IS there.

I feel the same way about astrology honestly. I don't think it's bad to believe in as long as you're not ascribing it to unwilling people, but I personally do feel like if I believed the shapes the Romans saw in the stars made me who I am, then not only would I deny myself autonomy, but also I would miss out on the magic of the stars as huge lonely nuclear light giants indifferent to and ignorant of the lives of humans in terrifying and beautiful ways. I might even dismiss scientific discoveries that didn't fit my view. And I think I've seen enough of the damage that can do for one lifetime. (I am aware that I probably wouldn't have so many problems with astrology if I wasn't a furious ex-Catholic. But again, there's nothing wrong with faith as long as you're not slapping it onto other people.)

But, gods, I hate these fucking good luck posts.

I am not poor due to the stars or the lack of luck-money posts on my dashboard. I am poor because I live in oppressive power structures that I hope to see burn in my lifetime. I need as clear a view of this reality as possible.

If you want to spread positive magic, you have to spread love and information and images/stories of a beautiful shared future that other people are invited to be a part of.

I'm a big believer in Hope. I believe hope is a sacred thing. But I'm not a big fan of false hope.

So in conclusion, if you reblog this post and then tomorrow something very lucky and seemingly unrelated happens, it had nothing to do with this post.

The only Magic will be the magic of unfathomably huge amounts of data transferring all across the world instantaneously to reach you and show you words that came from someone else's heart and mind.

The only Magic will be however it makes you feel to know that if you need luck, at least one other person in this world wants good things to happen to you: I care that you are found. I care that you are loved. I care that you are safe. I care that you live long enough to find or be found by happiness and that you then live for a very long time after that. And I don't need to meet you to know that I'm right.

Know that I will spend the rest of my life working to build spaces where you would be welcome. And maybe you and I will never meet, but I happen to know there's a whole lot of people like me in this world. And I happen to know that as long as you are alive, there is a chance you will grow old in warmth and comfort, surrounded by friends. There is a chance that your old eyes will be crinkled at the sides with laugh lines. And that's magic. That's real magic.

[yamatossideboob]

One Piece 1116 spoilers!

My spottings this week:

Yamato's taking his time getting ready for his field trip but whatever as long as he's on page. ily Yamtoe!!!!! hi Otsuru!!!

Struggling to remember here, were the Ancient Weapons known at all to the greater public? even as myths or historical fact? either way they are now lmfao

There's something so unsettling about seeing Imu looking up at that portrait, and I can't articulate why... it's weirdly human coming from someone/thing who's previously been so removed from humanity.

aww Ingram, Karoo, its okay lads, shes on board a sky ship fleeing political retaliation with an albatross man and Monsieur Mangetot

i do hope we get a moment with Vivi seeing her own missing persons poster. or! or! her own wanted poster??

okay I'm really glad we now know this stolen Mother Flame business, AND finally get confirmation that the weapon used to destroy Lulusia IS an Ancient Weapon, and Uranus to boot! This is immense!!! Aside from the confirmations, this also potentially puts a cap on any AW use since their fuel source is clearly limited, which stops them from like. breaking the OP endgame bc why else wouldn't the WG just spam it constantly lol. Althoughhhhhh since York is still likely to make it off Egghead, and she surely knows how to recreate it, I could well be wrong...

also wow York is even worse than we thought

One Punch King????? howrya mate!

srsly though, the knowledge of what really happened to Lulusia reaching the public is gonna be the fucking cherry on the Fuck The WG sundae coming very soon

This is such a packed chapter and yet *this* is the moment I've been waiting for.

I've said before on here how I wished the link between Vegapunk and the extermination of Lulusia was emphasised more. The parallels between Vegapunk's innovations and real life scientists having their work used for evil purposes is too great, and while OP isn't quite the series to explore a subject like that as it deserves, I'd been holding out hope that this manga would at least lampshade it, if not have Vegapunk address this. I can be satisfied with this. I am glad Vegapunk understands what his work lead to, even if he never meant for it to. Such is the price of capital and the state dictating scientific development babes.

also damn I hope that little panel of Momo and Kinemon means they won't be completely caught unawares by the Blackbeard gang showing up to pilfer Pluton a.a ;;;

ah yes hi Mr Oral Fixation, good to see you as always sexy

aaaaaaaaaand hi Shirohoshi. I forget if you know *you're* an Ancient Weapon too lmao

actually yeah Joyboy why DID you preserve the Ancient Weapons whats that about hmmm

Sengoku trying to off himself by onigiri choking to avoid questions about wtf he knows about the Elders and Void Century

Akainu maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad

FUCKING YES CROCUS!!!!

I still hate how cute you are York. stop being horrible.

Man I can't wait to see how the hell Stella pulled this off lmao

Also YES THE GIANT ROBO HAD A PURPOSE THE WHOLE TIME LMFAOOOOOO

(I'd heard the theory wrt the transponder and the robo but I didn't believe it fsr 💀)

So this will take the heat off the giants and Strawhats long enough for them to gtfo, I guess the Ancient Robo will meet its end here by Elder claws? I hope at least we find out what its connection to Joyboy is before it gets scrapped

Rayleigh soused as a student during Rag Week, I hope he shows up again in a more long-term way sooooooooooooooon

AND another chapter next week!! this absurd ridiculous gargantuan lore drop keeps on chugging!!! What will we learn next? What cameos shall we have? Will the Ancient Robo actually do something beyond one (1) panel?

Tune in next time nakama! Til next time! 💪✖️

[lacenvs3000w24]

hopping back on the nature train🚂🌱

If the prompt for this week, a quotation by Edward Hyams, were a food, it would be.. like.. a CLIF bar or something. Small but mighty. So let’s dig in.

Natural history. It’s a legendary tale, a rival to the greatest myths written by the greatest minds. sometimes there’s a hero, a villain, a climax, a happy ending, and sometimes it’s a simpler, meandering story. When interpreting nature through the lens of history, I think it valuable to carve out a foundation, set the scene, tell a story.

This can be a daunting task, especially for science students. From our * formal education *, we’ve learned to separate the fanciful tales from the cold hard facts. We’ve been encouraged to rid our work of human bias. We’re in the training process, the “proving ourselves” process, where cold-hard science is the limiting nutrient. We’ve been instilled with the scientific integrity that forms the backbone of an honest, genuine interest in the natural world.

But that is not how this story should end.

We wouldn’t be doing nature justice to stop there.

Because we’ve also been given the basic tools necessary to start weaving the story back together, after having broken it down, boiled it to bits in beakers. Here, we’re going beyond that, back to real life where humans want to talk to other humans as if they’re humans. And that takes a different kind of integrity: interpretation.

The quotation begins, “There is no particular merit in ancient things”. Nature is an ancient thing, and no, nature is not good or bad — it’s amoral, neutral. Still, I think it’s fair to say that from our humble lil human perspective, nature does have value, and it has meaning.

Hyam continues “…but there is merit in integrity, and integrity entails the keeping together of the parts of any whole.”

I understood this, through the lens of this unit, to mean that integrity, or interpretation, can give “merit-less” nature value and meaning. Nature cradles seeds of meaning that are fertilized, that bloom, when we interpret, when we pull together the parts of the whole into a tale to be told. To have the scissors and glue in hand, poster board in front of you, to collage everything together, is a wonderful responsibility to have, and I think Hyam’s words capture the great power entangled with that responsibility.

image sourced from: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/9NR9ON (artist: Kirsten Harri)

A blade of grass on its own seems so slight, so meager, and honestly kinda boring. But a trained storyteller can weave together all the unseen aspects of that little green miracle. We can come to appreciate how long the evolutionary path has been to have landed at this blade of grass today. Its uses by a wide web of species, by human cultures through time, its love for sunlight and rich soil.

To me, the latter half of the quotation, where Hyam presents his metaphor of the train passing through the station, reflected the vastness and complexities of the timescale of nature’s story. Even more so, the point about the station not only existing for the moments “our train was in it” translates so well into the topic of nature interpretation as a whole. Nature interpretation is not one-dimensional. Nature exists everywhere on our planet (we’ll stick to those confines to simplify this conversation a tad), it exists for so many different people in so many different ways.

So, I agree with Hyam that it is borderline absurd to “think, feel or act as though the past is done with” — to not profoundly appreciate all the time and work that has gone into the world around us, here and now, to not acknowledge the different cultural dimensions of nature over that timescale. And culture is important here because, well, we interpret for other people in the end.  

Really looking forward to hearing everyone else’s thoughts for this one,

Thanks!!

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

Never I Have Ever: season 4 - Quotes

“- Damn. That’s messed up. But do you have any friends or someone you could talk to about this?” (The basket player - Episode 1)

“- And that’s when I realized love is a verb, not just a noun.” (The basket player - Episode 1)

“- Devi, this really is an elegant gift. And if I may, I am so pleased to see a young girl this day and age not dressed like a pinup poster in a prison cell.” (Teacher - Episode 1)

“- Devi felt like she was on a roll, and so she decided to do the mature thing and talk to Ben. Sometimes, when things don’t go your way, you can still be graceful and learn.” (Devi’s voice off - Episode 1)  “- But apparently, one pretty mediocre bang was all you wanted from me before you moved on to the next warm body. And when Devi was hurt, she did not always make smart choices. - I... I think this is escalating in a unnecessarily public way.” (Ben - Episode 1) “- Well, that’s probably because statistically men are more... (Devi) - Stop. I’m already offended by however you’re going to finish that sentence. Devi, you know it’s ok if you still have feelings for Ben. (Dr Ryan) - What? That’s what you got from this? (Devi) - I mean, what you two shared was something incredibly intimate, Devi, and then he abandoned you.” (Dr Ryan) - What is wrong with me? What would make Ben sleep with me and decide not to be with me? (Devi) - And I don’t mean that feminist woo-woo “every woman is beautiful” kind of thing. I mean real beauty. You’re extraordinary, Devi. (Dr Ryan) - I am? (Devi) - You are. Why else would I keep seeing you? Girl, you drive me crazy. Okay? Women always wanna take something out on another woman when most of the time it’s the man’s fault. (Dr Ryan) - Yeah, ‘cause it’s easier to be mad at women ‘cause we know what sneaks we are.” (Devi - Episode 1)

“- Uh, hey, uh, Margot? Do you have a second? (Devi) - Actually, no. I’m trying to avoid psychotic bitch energy as much as possible.” (Margot - Episode 1)

“- Hey, we’ve talked a lot about my dick lately. Can we move on? Look, I think we’re both just insecure and competitive, and we always manage to hurt each other. (Ben) - So Devi heard herself saying something she almost never said. I accept that.” (Devi - Episode 1)

“- Ms. Vishwakumar, you’re ten minutes late. (Ms. Warner) - I’m so sorry, Ms Warner. My car was recently a victim of automotive misogyny.” (Devi - Episode 2)

“- Well, now I heard you won’t be getting a Dr. Keyes rec. You know, after you, sent her to the hospital?” (Episode 2)

“- I mean, I get that he’s hot, but he’s also kind of degenerate. Yeah, and what about Trent? You can’t just give up on him. (Devi) - He doesn’t wanna be with me. He’s made that very clear. And as Dua Lipa said, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” (Eleonor - Episode 2)

“- He’s beautiful, he’s dangerous, and it feels like there’s always a wind hitting him somehow. (Eleonor) - It seems scientifically impossible, but I do see it. (Fabiola) - Well, El, as someone whose senior year has already gone tits up, I support it. Follow your bliss before some jealous slore steals it from you.” (Devi - Episode 2)

“- Yo, Ben. I hope you know you’re dating a straight-up psychopath. (Devi) - Well, wouldn’t be the first time”. (Ben - Episode 2)

“- Ben, I’m your girlfriend. You should know I’m not a criminal.” (Margot - Episode 2)

“- Let’s just say Margot is about to be Mar-gone.” (Devi - Episode 2)

“- Then I’ll beat you to death with this one. You can’t go around messing with something that belongs to someone else. (Devi) - So you’re kind of mean, huh? (Ethan) - No, I just believe in justice. Yeah. Well, whatever it is, I’ve never been yelled at like that before. (Ethan) - I find that hard to believe. (Devi) - It’s kind of hot. Yeah, when you were yelling at me, I was like...”Damn. Devi’s kind of sexy. (Ethan - Episode 2)

“- Bad girls don’t need books. (Ethan) - Okay, yeah, maybe I do like being bad. (Devi) - And the baddest part about you is that you’re betraying your friend. It’s so hot how you’re stabbing her in the back. He feelings are gonna be so hurt.” (Ethan - Episode 3)

“- Fab, I am on the rebound. So if I wanna fantasize about being a degenerate’s girlfriend, let me have it.” (Eleonor - Episode 3)

“- Picking up on a titch of melancholy.” (Episode 3)

“- So, Devi, why don’t you tell me how you can relate to a story about falsely accusing someone and almost ruining their life? (Episode 3)

“- I’m sorry. This is just how it has to be for now. (Ben) - She doesn’t have to be this threatened. She does know our sex was bad, right?” (Devi - Episode 3)

“- I’m not surprised he scammed us. His whole family’s a bunch of con artists. But like most hot guys, Ethan was blissfully unaware of the drama surrounding him, and he had no idea he was being avoided.” (Episode 3) 

“- You got dumped by a guy who loved you so much that he proposed to you after a meaningful relationship and tons of amazing sex.” (Devi - Episode 3)

“- Have you ever done this before ? (Ethan) - Once. But it didn’t got so great. (Devi) - Well, that’s because you didn’t have sex with me.” (Ethan - Episode 4)

“- Sometimes, certain people can cloud our judgment.  - Oh no, she does. She just thinks that Ethan’s bad for me. (Devi) - Oh, well, that’s true. - Yeah, he’s like an anchor pulling you down into the depths.” (Episode 4)

“- No, I’m only applying to acting conservatories. I’m not a liberal arts person. I’m a one-art person.” (Eleonor - Episode 4)

“- Ethan, thank you so much for this incredible sexual awakening, but I think I’m now having a moral awakening. I need to be with someone who knows right from wrong, and that doesn’t seem to be you.” (Devi - Episode 4)

“- I mean, she was much more perfect than you in high school. She made zero mistakes and had no fun.” (Ben - Episode 5)

“- Well, you put it out in the universe I wasn’t getting in, and then I didn’t. (Devi) - I was just... trying to manage your expectations.” (Nalini - Episode 6)

“- Anyway, I need to see what I can add to my résumé to make myself seem more desirable to them.” (Devi - Episode 6) “- Well, great. I am glad my suffering is bringing you such joy. (Devi) - Oh, kanna, I am so sorry. But this is really what I was trying to tell you. Sometimes things don’t go our way. (Nalini) - Mom, come on. I really don’t wanna listen to anything rational right now. You know what? Being deferred was already a stab in the heart. I didn’t also need to be stabbed in the back.” (Devi - Episode 6)

“- And I went from feeling like a winner to such a loser in seconds.” (Episode 6)

“- Hey, you gotta let it go, all right? This is not worth losing a good friend over.” (Episode 6)

“- I am so sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me.” (Devi - Episode 6)

“- I hear you, but remember, getting deferred isn’t such a bad thing... (Dr Ryan) - Why do people keep saying that to me? Getting deferred is a bad thing. It means they’re not sure about me. They’re not sure I’m good enough. (Devi) - But do you think you’re good enough? (Dr Ryan) - Honestly, I don’t know anymore. I mean, right now I feel pretty mediocre. My own mother assumed I was gonna get rejected. (Devi) - Devi, if this Princeton dream has so much power over your self-worth, have you ever considered that maybe it’s not serving you? Devi, I’ve just lived longer than you have, and I know that sometimes, you can work incredibly hard for something, and things just don’t go your way, you know?” (Dr Ryan - Episode 6)

“- Listen, I wasn’t trying to jinx you. I was just trying to, I guess, protect you from that kind of disappointment. And you know what? Even when things don’t work out, they usually do work out. As long as you don’t give up.” (Nalini - Episode 6)

“- Oh! I don’t wanna sleep with your girlfriend, dude. That’s really not something you should be offering people.” (Episode 7)

“- Dude, you are fully clothed. (Devi) - Yeah, well, emotionally I’m hanging D.” (Trent - Episode 7)

“- Look, why are you setting a goal that you’re probably gonna fail at? It’s okay if I fail as long as I tried.” (Episode 7)

“- Because you came up to me out of nowhere and asked me to take your virginity as a complete stranger? (Paxton) - Okay, don’t make me sound like I’m nuts. You’re the one that said yes.” (Devi - Episode 7)

“- Maybe to let go of who you were and find out who you wanna be.” (Episode 7)

“- There are some vibes that are still alive and well.” (Paxton - Episode 7)

“- So don’t worry, we’ll still be roomies. Oh, and also prom dates. I was talking to Addison, and they’ll be out of town for prom, so I thought the three of us could go together. (Fabiola) - Yes! I love that. I mean, you two are the best relationship I’ve had in high school.” (Devi - Episode 8)

“- So, what’s the deal with you guys? Ah! A teen girl classic, pretending to not be interested in the person you’re interested in (McEnroe). He’s the one that said we should never be together because we’re both too insecure and competitive. And he’s right. He’s too mean, and I’m too crazy. Together, we’re just two otters trying to dunk each other.” (Devi - Episode 8) 

“- Change was in the air for the Vishwakumar clan. Scary as it was, Nalini was right. Change was good.” (McEnroe - Episode 8)

“- But in typical Devi fashion, had created too big of a mess to enjoy it.” (McEnroe - Episode 9)

“- Hi, Ms Warner. Wanna talk to me? (Ben) - Well, I never want to talk to you, young man.” (Ms Warner - Episode 9)

“- Yeah, that’s all true, but I wanna know why you are who you are.” (Episode 9)

“- God, why do I have to be a psycho all the time? (Devi) - I like your psycho side. It makes things interesting. (Ben) - Being rejected and wait-listed by everywhere you applied is, like, the definition of pathetic, so look, Devi, you are many things. A maniac, a liar, a heavy sweater, a reckless driver,.... (Ben)  - Hey, this is very hurtful. (Devi) - But you’re not a quitter. (Ben)  - I’d want someone to put me in like a medically-induced coma. Yeah, I would like that. (Devi) - But if you don’t try everything that you can, you’re gonna regret it.” (Ben - Episode 9)

“- You survived, baby. You’re a survivor. (Dr Ryan) - You really mean that? (Devi) - This little college thing, this is just a bump in the road compared to everything you’ve already overcome. You can do anything you put your mind to. (Dr Ryan) - Princeton was actually a dream he and I came up with together. I think I’ve so fiercely held on to Princeton so that I could keep holding on to him.” (Devi - Episode 9) 

“- Because I promise you, Devi, if you do not pack tonight, I’ll put you in that suitcase Mafia-style. (Nalini - Episode 10)

“- So it turns out we’re a pretty good team for two people who hate each other. (Ben)  - I don’t hate you. I just think you’re pretentious and unlikable.” (Devi - Episode 10)

“- Now, this is our last night together, so we have to grab this party by the balls and just squeeze every last drop of fun out of it.” (Devi - Episode 10)

[self-winding]

Recently, I’ve been hearing Rachel Dolezal mentioned again in relation to identity issues.

I’m actually pretty sympathetic to the concept of transracialism, I think she is just a uniquely bad poster child for it because her identity seems so bound up in “political” blackness and the need to feel oppressed. 

But if you accept that race is a social and cultural construct rather than an immutable physical reality which flows out of biological ancestry, the idea that someone’s race can be negotiable and at least partly based on their social/cultural reality, rather than purely on ancestry, seems pretty straightforward.

I don’t remember the dude’s name but I remember reading an article about a musician with Eastern European ancestry who was fairly dark-skinned and had grown up in a predominantly black community.  Even though none of his ancestors were from Africa, he was perceived as black and saw himself as black.  And that’s not even going into mixed-race people who can pass as either/or.  Even more so than sex or gender, racial categories are very fuzzily defined and porous.

I guess (to state the obvious) the more controversial aspects of “transracialism” come in when people whose natural appearance is more stereotypically white start modifying that appearance to look more black, as Dolezal did.  I will admit that this is more viscerally uncomfortable to me than an AMAB person wanting to present in a very feminine way, and of course there’s the association with blackface performances, but gut feelings are just gut feelings.  Every attempted argument I’ve seen for why these things are different takes one of two tactics:

1.  Transmedicalism; “it’s different because being transgender is a diagnosable medical condition, and transracialism is not.  There’s currently no body of research to support the idea.”  The obvious drawback to this is that a lot of trans people also don’t buy into the transmedicalist framework and consider it pretty limiting.  There are large numbers of trans people it excludes.

2.  Authenticity-by-oppression.  Trans women “catch up” to cis women pretty quickly in terms of the types of discrimination they experience, and might even outpace them, whereas a Rachel Dolezal probably doesn’t experience the same degree of discrimination as someone who naturally looks very black.  There are obvious issues with this framing as well, in that it treats the “realness” of someone’s identity as purely defined by oppression.  If trans women stop being oppressed do they stop being “real women”?

So, does this mean I think Dolezal is “valid”?  I mean, there’s plenty about her as a person that I find objectionable.  But just asking, “Is Dolezal ‘really’ black?” implicitly buys into the idea that “black” is an immutable metaphysical category.  Scientifically, it’s not.  Socially and culturally, it is (at the very least) kind of hard to define in any rigid way, so we’re reduced to a kind of “I know it when I see it, and that’s not it” way of thinking, but that way of thinking has plenty of obvious pitfalls.  My brain still has trouble accepting that a tomato is a fruit and that Pluto is not a planet.

If I allow myself to play devil’s advocate to myself:  Yes, I do subscribe to the common sense definition that if you’re going to call yourself black you should have at least a little African ancestry, but how much is “a little”?  I mean, technically we all have African ancestry.  Also I know jack shit about how DNA works, beyond what I learned in my high school biology classes.  All right, so if you’re going to call yourself black, you should be able to pass as black without modifying your appearance too much...but what is “too much”?  Do dreads count, does a perm count, does a tan count?  Well, you can do what you like with your appearance as long as your primary motive isn’t to appear black...but okay, now we’re talking about subjective, wobbly stuff like motive and it’s getting very tricky.

Idk man.

[198d]

...

So, working on a project and one aspect of it is making a really simple scientific poster. I'm the design guy, I do the front nd design since I'm the only person who knows basic html and css, the only person who has taken art and design classes, and I do this stuff for fun so I go ahead and take charge of the poster. Plus they really just don't have the intuition for design at all, even when I or the professors give clear instructions on How To Do Things Right. We have to make tons of drafts and get feedback on them, and its kind of a dripfeed because staff would make comments on some things, neglect to comment on the other things, and make us turn in another draft based on those missed comments.

Every single fucking time my teammates would work on it, I would have to go back and fix allllllll of the margins and padding they neglected, and I would have to remake every image of a diagram into a simplified, vectorized. Every time we had to change text or images based on the feedback, I would have to go back and change those as well. Today, while I was working on this, one of my teammates was literally trying to edit the same thing at the same time (using figma and diagrams.net). I was going to lose my mind because I was just trying to fix all of the issues, like I had to do multiple times, that my teammates would neglect from the feedback, and so this was actively happening while I was trying to fix them.

I had everything in their own groups, so that it would be easy to change things out. My teammates didn't know how to work with that. Earlier teammate literally did not understand that a file cannot have two different file extensions, and sent me a rasterized image of a diagram instead of the actual editable file, because diagrams.net just lets you have an "editable (so like, able to move around the individual elements) png" saved to your google docs, exported it as a plain png and posted it in the project chat. When I couldn't open it they then tried to tell me like, well it worked for me and well it has the other extension too so it should work. It was only the filename that had the 'extension' of the proper file format. (this is the big csc senior class btw)

The fact that we went back and forth so much on that diagram to begin with was frustrating because they could've given me access to the editable file at any time, and would constantly ignore or forget feedback which meant having to fix it many, many more times, and most of those fixes were still missing the core design feedback like 'make the text size bigger' and 'eliminate unnecessary whitespace'. If anything, it would've been much better if I went through with porting it to figma instead of relying on them, but I'm over here not wanting to be a total control freak so I'm like... whatever.

So when I get access to that diagram I fix issues from all of the feedback, but at the end of our final feedback they go and try to edit at the same fucking time as I am editing, and I had been fixing the diagram all day up to that point. Then the same thing happened on the figma document, and of course they deleted my group for the section the diagram was supposed to go in, so I had to make it again, fix the margins, fix the padding, fix the sizing.

They also completely trashed my design for a page I worked on for the project itself like waay earlier in the semester, so I was like. Okay. You guys do your thing, I can put in all my junk later. I would like to avoid wasting my time as much as possible, considering how mentally ill and exhausted I already am.

oh yeah and also the examples the professors put in the powerpoint for posters had the same (margins and spacing or text inconsistencies, bad looking screenshots, that kind of thing) or worse issues (think black impact font on a busy patterned background, for fucks sake) that they kept nitpicking us for, so its kinda like. please actually showcase something that's relevant thanks.

At least it's finally(?) over.

[pumpkinsouppe]

It’s so funny to me how people were telling me ‘no!!! Zelda would destroy the monarchy she would!!!’ But the devs confirmed that Totk is all about Totk Rauru convincing Zelda that the monarchy must live on forever and her agreeing with him. Not to mention…. None of the other Zeldas did it either rhjfskdfn

I made this post bc of how weird the entire game was about isolating the yiga and how domineering the entire monarchy is, especially on the Gerudo too. There’s a reason the temporary capital was right next to the Gerudo desert. Unfortunately the Zelda that is canon would not dismantle the monarchy, that is fanon. If the devs really wanted Zelda to bridge that gap between the hylians and the Sheikah and the yiga they would have done so by now. But that is not the character they want her to be.

But as it stands, the yiga, who separated from the Sheikah to escape the domination and control from the Hylians, are still scorned and shunned to the point where they are forced to live in what is essentially hell, just so they can also practice magic and science. We have no idea what happened in between botw and totk but for them to still hate her that much means she must have done something more than just defeating calamity ganon, right??? Like the yiga have posters of her drawn as an oni/japanese ogre all over their huts, she must have done or decreed something herself or elicit so much hate from them as they always scorn link for defending Zelda and not for sending their leader into a big hole (yes that is Zelda, no it is not link, yes that shows that they are designed in a way that makes them look like siblings it is not good diverse character design. It is the product of trying to design their characters to be pure with no majorly defining facial features.). If she has actually reached out to make reparations and let them live in society freely, they would not have discovered how to make monster trucks with spikes

Look I want Zelda to be a great character, but you can’t deny how she was written in the game. She was passionate about science and research and they made her a shell of a character instead, not even pursuing her passions. Yea maybe Zelda written by better writers would have been done justice but that is not the reality. You SHOULD be mad that the devs butchered her character. You should be mad that they handed off writing this game to a 3rd party instead of giving a life to the character the franchise is named after. Calling out her terrible writing is not me being anti Zelda or misogynistic, I am holding this game series to a high standard due to love of the franchise and I am upset that the devs don’t seem to care. This was the one game to finally see how Zelda has handled reparations post main story, the real time we got to see what impact Zelda has left on the world we have previously explored. And… it was so disappointing.

Nintendo should do better. If they are making their fans pay seventy god damn US dollars for this game they should have written this game themselves and really put thought into Zelda’s character development. Imagine how interesting it would’ve been exploring Zelda’s mental state after being trapped inside calamity ganon for 100 years? Zelda worried about becoming just like her father and just like all the other rulers who failed the land? Imagine her thinking she’ll never be good enough as a queen and coming to self discovery that she doesn’t have to, she can pass the torch onto someone more deserving as she instead works on research and science. Research and science that would help rebuild society, a leadership role that isn’t a political role but a scientific one.

There’s a million billion ways Zelda could have been a better character. Blame Nintendo for what you did not get.

The funny thing about playing botw and Totk is I don’t hate or scorn the Yiga at all. I actually think they’re so well within their rights to be super bitter and angry bc of what the king of Hyrule did to the Sheikah over 10k years ago. I need Kohga to know I am also anti monarchy and we should talk to Zelda about establishing a democracy or at least not giving absolute rule to the Hylian monarch. We should also let the yiga be members of society again and not continue to outcast them when they were actually again SO RIGHT to oppose the crown and refuse to be subdued and have their culture and technology destroyed

Ocarina of Time made me such a Hylian Royal Family and Royal Knights of Hyrule hater hjdgnlsdjnfjlsd

[winxanity-ii]

YEAH, LEAVE IT IN THE PAST. | PRT.2

ship: jjk men: satoru & suguru x fem!miko!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.9k a/n: Hope you guys enjoyed prt.1 just as much as i did making it, now on to the next part, viola!...go to 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐍𝐨. ʲʲᵏ if you want to understand this; also Y/n's (your) power/ability descriptions will be at the very bottom.

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The fluorescent lights overhead hum in a monotone chorus, casting their sterile glow on your wooden desk—old, filled with the initials of students who've come and gone. Classroom walls are decked with posters of the periodic table and scientific luminaries, but your eyes are elsewhere.

You're seated beside Riko Amanai. She's engrossed in her textbook, her pen dancing over the paper as she highlights key sentences. Her entire demeanor screams 'average high school student,' which is what makes her so perfect as the Star Plasma Vessel.

It's surreal; how someone so crucial to a powerful, arcane ritual can sit there and worry about high school quizzes like everyone else.

Your eyes drift down to your biochemistry textbook, tracing complicated diagrams of cellular activities. And then it happens—the air in the room shifts, and you feel a subtle prickling sensation crawling up the back of your neck.

Your grip tightens on your pencil, and a bolt of adrenaline shoots through you. Eyes flicking up, you scan the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

The teacher still stands at the front, lost in his lecture, blissfully unaware of the tension that's just folded itself into the room like a hidden layer in a complex origami.

🇫‌🇱‌🇦‌🇸‌🇭‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌:

You stood in a dimly lit room, standing in front of Satoru and Suguru.

Satoru's eyes were hidden behind that characteristic blindfold of his, but you knew he was examining you intently.

"Why exactly am I here?" you had questioned, arms crossed. "I don't see how I can contribute much. My power set isn't fully fleshed out yet."

Satoru had chuckled. "Oh, you underestimate yourself. Look, you have something that neither Suguru nor I have: the ability to blend in and be utterly charming."

You had raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Charming? Really?"

Satoru had grinned wider. "Okay, maybe not charming. But you're relatable, and you're cute enough to befriend Riko without raising suspicion. Plus, you can sense cursed energy, right? That alone makes you valuable."

You had sighed. "Fine, I'll do it. But only because you're terrible at making friends."

"Ouch, you wound me," Satoru had teased, but his eyes—though hidden—were serious. "Keep her safe, Y/N."

The fire alarm blares, disrupting the classroom's fragile peace. "Fire drill," the teacher announces, and the class is quickly escorted outside.

You and Riko gather your things, the air tinged with the students' mixed feelings of curiosity and annoyance at the abrupt interruption.

As you walk out of the classroom in a single file, you're hyper-aware of every little detail. The weight of Riko's backpack as she slings it over her shoulder, the whispers weaving through the crowd, and most importantly, the discordant hum of cursed energy that seems to pervade the air.

The warning bells in your mind go off like a klaxon; something is terribly wrong.

"Stay close," you mouth to Riko, your eyes meeting hers. There's an unspoken understanding there; she senses the urgency in your gaze and nods, gripping her bag a little tighter.

The throng of students spill out into the yard, filling it with chatter and confused faces. Teachers try to bring order, to line everyone up by class, but you're already tuned into something else.

A pulse of cursed energy, far stronger than before, sweeps over the yard like an invisible tsunami. Your every nerve screams, instincts honed from relentless training crying out in alarm.

At that moment, the atmosphere shifts tangibly. Breaking through the crowd is a hulking figure with a paper bag masking his face. His focus is dead set on you and Riko.

There's no mistaking it—this is a curse user, and he's coming fast.

As he lunges with alarming speed, something deep within you awakens. Your eyes blaze with an energy you've never felt before. It's like you've tapped into some previously locked reservoir, something elemental, something potent.

"Elemental Mastery: Creation's Forge"**

With barely a thought, a translucent shield bursts into existence between you and the incoming attacker. His blade collides with your shield in a shower of sparks, cursed energy fizzling against the shimmering barrier you've conjured.

But then you hear it—a faint gasp from Riko. Glancing her way, you see a thin streak of blood on her arm. Your shield had materialized a fraction of a second too late, allowing the blade to nick her.

"Are you okay?" you ask, eyes widening.

"I'll manage," she grimaces.

Without a second thought, you reach out and place your hand on her wounded arm.

"Elemental Mastery: Soul Link"**

You channel some of your newfound energy into her, healing her wound. The sensation of a soul-bond snapping into place is overwhelming. Riko's emotions—her fear, her fatigue, and that slight pulse of pain from the wound—flood into you in an overpowering wave.

But then something magical happens. You feel her emotional and physical state shift; she's drawing strength from you, becoming emboldened as the energy courses through her body stitching her skin anew.

"This is new," she says, a glint of awe in her eyes.

"Yeah," you agree, slightly dazed from the experience. "New, and complicated."

Focusing back on what's at hand, your eyes narrow as another wave of clones materializes around you and Riko. They move in, blades brandished and ready. But before you can make your next move, a spectacle unfurls before your eyes.

A crackling surge of energy, so swift it's almost a blur, cleaves through the crowd. Satoru and Misato burst onto the scene, landing lightly on their feet as if they're stepping off a cloud.

Satoru's sunglasses reflect the afternoon sun, making it impossible to read his eyes, but the wry smile on his lips says it all. "Looks like you two could use a little backup," he drawls.

Misato stands beside him, her own eyes ablaze with focused energy. Her hand extends and, in a fluid motion, she releases a volley of talisman-guided missiles. The papers sail through the air, zipping around erratically before homing in on their targets.

When they make contact with the clones, an explosion of cursed energy reduces them to mere ash.

But Satoru, ever the show-off, takes it up another notch. He pulls down the blindfold over his eyes and suddenly, the very air seems to thicken, as if unable to withstand the force of his cursed technique.

Then, with an almost lazy flick of his hand, he generates a dome of invisible energy that encapsulates the clones who have evaded Misato's initial attack.

For a moment, they float within the dome, as if suspended in time, seemingly unharmed. But then, a ripple runs through the sphere, and it collapses inward. It happens so quickly that if you blinked, you would miss it.

When the dome vanishes, all that remains of the clones is a dissipating mist of cursed energy, absorbed into the ether as if they'd never existed.

As the remnants of the clones disintegrate, Satoru replaces his blindfold, his expression returning to its usual nonchalance. His eyes lock onto yours briefly, and you think you see a flicker of something—appreciation, or maybe curiosity—cross his face.

Whatever it is, it’s gone in an instant, and he turns away to survey the rest of the area, as if already thinking about the next challenge.

Misato nudges her head toward you and Riko, as if to say, "You two okay?" She still looks pumped, adrenaline brightening her eyes, and you can't help but admire her combat finesse.

"We are now," you reply, looking over at Riko. You feel a taut tug on the soul-bond you share with her. The anxiety roiling within her is palpable, and you can tell that she's nearly at the end of her emotional rope.

"I need to sit," Riko murmurs, her knees looking like they're about to give.

With a final, intentional transfer of supportive energy, you slowly release the bond. Riko exhales deeply, her body relaxing incrementally as though she's been holding her breath for ages.

"What was that?" she asks, her eyes wide, as she gingerly rubs the spot where you touched her.

"A bit of new trick I'm still figuring out," you answer cautiously.

The immediate threat is gone, dissipated by a display of raw power and expertise, but the residue of danger still hangs in the air.

For a fleeting moment, a sigh of relief seems to ripple through the group. Satoru and Misato exchange a quick glance, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

You begin to feel that maybe, just maybe, the worst is over.

But just as quickly, a ripple of dread passes through the air, and Satoru's eyes narrow, his senses alert. Misato pulls out her phone; a text flashes across the screen. "Kuroi's been kidnapped. We need to go to Okinawa, ASAP."

Just then, another figure emerges into the courtyard, almost as if summoned by the urgency of the situation. It's Suguru, his face set in a grim line but with a touch of relief as he takes in the scene—no casualties, at least for now.

"Looks like I missed all the fun," Suguru remarks, his eyes scanning over the fallen clones and the remnants of your elemental shield.

"We could use another set of hands," Satoru replies, motioning toward the looming threat ahead. "We're heading to Okinawa. You in?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Suguru says, a ferocious kind of glee lighting up his eyes.

The roar of the plane's engines cuts through the thick tension in the air as you ascend into the sky, en route to Okinawa.

The cabin is alive with a buzzing energy, each person lost in their own world—some double-checking weapons, others silently chanting incantations, each locked in their own bubble of concentration.

Yet, amid the individual preparations, a collective understanding looms: this mission is different. Dangerous. Unpredictable.

Across from you, Suguru sits with a calm demeanor, his fingers steepled together as he analyzes a page of symbols.

When he senses your gaze, he looks up, meeting your eyes. "I heard you unlocked a new power," he says, the corners of his mouth tilting into a wry grin. "That must've been quite the adrenaline rush."

Your eyes widen a bit, surprised that word has already gotten around. Before you can answer, your gaze shifts past him to where Satoru is seated. He's intently staring at the both of you.

Caught, Satoru reacts with an exaggerated wave, a grin plastered across his face, before he abruptly pretends to engage in something very important on his phone.

Classic Satoru—always the observer, always the jester.

Turning your attention back to Suguru, you feel a swell of vulnerability. "Honestly, it's both exhilarating and terrifying. The power feels like...like it could either save everyone or destroy everything, and I'm not sure which."

Suguru's eyes soften, perhaps understanding your fear better than most. "Power is a double-edged sword," he begins, pausing as if searching for the right words. "But remember this—power itself is neither good nor evil. It's a tool, like a knife or a pen. It's all about the hand that wields it. You can cut bread or you can cut flesh. Write love poems or slander. The choice is yours."

You soak in his words, finding a strange sense of comfort in them. Maybe you're still figuring this new power out, but Suguru's right—it's not the power that should scare you, it's what you could potentially do with it.

As the plane starts its descent, Suguru leans back in his seat, seeming to contemplate his own advice just as deeply as you are. "When we land, things are going to get hectic. Keep your wits about you. And remember, you're not alone. You have a team that trusts you, that believes in your strength—even the hidden strength you've yet to discover."

And with that final piece of counsel, the plane's wheels touch the tarmac, jolting everyone from their respective reveries. The mission is about to begin, and armed with Suguru's words and your newfound abilities, you feel just a little more prepared for whatever challenges lie ahead.

Upon landing in Okinawa, the team wasted no time. Your boots hit the ground, and you're off—storming into the Time Vessel Association's hideout like a well-oiled machine.

The air is thick with tension as the black unmarked van pulls up to the dilapidated warehouse, the secret stronghold of the Time Vessel Association.

Before the engine even has time to cool, you, Satoru, Suguru, and Riko tumble out, kitted in your combat gear. Satoru takes a moment to look everyone in the eye.

"Remember, we're in and out. Our priority is Kuroi. Let's not waste time on theatrics," he advises, his gaze lingering a moment longer on Suguru before turning away.

With a flick of his wrist, Satoru’s Limitless technique scans the area, giving you the all-clear. Like phantoms, you slip through the warehouse's back door, narrowly avoiding a cluster of curse-infused traps laid out to ensnare intruders. Inside, the place smells of mildew and rust; low-level cursed spirits float around, filling the space with an eerie sense of dread.

Suddenly, Suguru murmurs a string of incantations under his breath, summoning an array of curses. The shadowy figures screech, darting forward and ripping apart any cursed spirits in their path. As you move further in, Riko lights up her palm with a burst of energy that illuminates the dark hallways.

"We're getting close," she whispers, her voice tinged with both hope and urgency.

You arrive at a split in the path. Satoru gives a nod to Suguru, who takes Riko down one corridor, while you and Satoru go down the other. Your heart pounds in your chest as you think of Kuroi.

Questions cloud your mind. Is she okay? Will you make it in time?

Just ahead, you hear muffled voices, curses, and laughter. Satoru signals you to stop, his eyes narrowing as he senses the cursed energies amassed in the next room. He leans close, whispering, "On my mark, we go full force. Ready?"

With a deep breath, you nod, adrenaline surging through you.

Satoru kicks the door off its hinges. Time seems to freeze for a moment as everyone inside the room locks eyes with you both. Then, like an explosion, both sides collide. Satoru's Limitless technique warps the space, making it difficult for enemies to even stand.

Your newfound powers flare up, protective shields sprouting up to block incoming attacks, and tendrils of healing energy spiraling out to mend wounds.

Through a haze of flashing steel, crackling energy, and incantations, you spot her—Kuroi, tied to a chair, eyes wide but full of fight. No sooner does your gaze meet than Satoru flicks his wrist, and a window of warped space appears around her, isolating her from the ensuing battle.

Minutes feel like hours, but finally, the last enemy falls, and the room goes silent except for the sounds of heavy breathing and footsteps. You rush to Kuroi, quickly untying her bonds. She stands, shaky but unbroken, a small triumphant smile cutting through the room's tension.

"Nice of you to drop in," she quips, her voice tinged with relief and sarcastic humor.

Satoru looks at you both and grins. "Mission's not over yet, but good work, team."

You want to smile, but every part of you screams fatigue. Your legs feel like they're made of lead, and as you take another step, your knees wobble. Just before you can hit the ground, a strong arm catches you.

It's Suguru, his eyes showing a hint of concern.

"You can rest soon," he assures you, helping you regain your balance. "Just hold on a little longer."

The encouragement is just enough. You nod, muster up your remaining strength, and continue to walk toward the van waiting for your extraction.

Every step feels like a mile, but you make it, settling into your seat. The engine roars to life, and the van pulls away, heading toward the airstrip where your plane is waiting.

The moment you settle into the van, something clicks—like your body's internal settings flip from 'Operational' to 'Do Not Disturb.' You don't even have the energy to get your shoes off before your head droops and your eyes close, plunging you into a deep, restorative sleep.

Your body's earned it, after all. It's like your exhaustion has its own gravitational pull, drawing you into an immediate, dreamless slumber.

The van's engine hums a lullaby, and the muffled voices of your teammates fade into the background, overtaken by the all-encompassing need for rest.

Suguru glances in your direction, studying your peaceful form curled up in the seat. He then meets Satoru's eyes, a silent understanding passing between them.

Satoru reaches up, pulling off his signature sunglasses and stowing them away. It's as if they've come to a mutual, unspoken agreement: everyone needs this break.

The inside of the van dims as the atmosphere shifts. The entire team, even those usually brimming with restless energy, takes the cue to relax. Seats recline, conversations lower to whispers, and some, like you, surrender to much-needed sleep.

For now, the world's incessant demands are put on hold. It's a brief hiatus, a momentary pause on reality, and every single person in that van knows to savor it.

A/N: dont clown me too much y'all Im bad at writing fighting scenes 💀💀😭

🇾‌/🇳‌'🇸‌ 🇵‌🇴‌🇼‌🇪‌🇷‌🇸‌/🇦‌🇧‌🇮‌🇱‌🇮‌🇹‌🇮‌🇪‌🇸‌ 🇦‌🇳‌🇩‌ 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌🇮‌🇷‌ 🇩‌🇷‌🇦‌🇼‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌🇸‌:

"Elemental Mastery: Creation's Forge"**

Can manipulate elements to form shields, weapons, or even heal by drawing energy from her eyes; physical touch is required for healing... Drawbacks: Using this ability for an extended period drains her energy...

2. "Elemental Mastery: Soul Link"**

Sub-technique of 'Crteation's Forge' ~ Healing through this method temporarily soul-binds her to the individual, which might transfer some of their fatigue or pain to her... Drawbacks: Given that she can heal others too, she forms a temporarily soul-bond, making it a double-edged sword because she might absorb some of their pain or fatigue, making the act of healing more complex...