#i want to put all of you in a terrarium and study you like bugs. real.

[jonathanrook]

can i be honest for a second. i'm intrigued by the current state of the colgate fandom.

[onenicebugperday]

@dragonwysper​ submitted: Gonna share some mites because I’m an Acari fanatic. I already know the families (and some genera) of these, so no need for ID! I just wanted to share some of what are objectively the Best Creatures ™. All of these are from the [[removed]]* area of Missouri!

*please redact

A Rhagidiidae I found under a log! Very speedy creechur. It was hard to get photos of him haha!

Balaustium sp.! Sidewalk mites! They’re very goofy. I’ve found that if you lightly touch them, they will zip away from you, while spinning to face whatever you’ve touched them with. I have no idea why they do this, though I’ve considered it may be related to a substance they’ve been found to secrete when distressed.

Big Trombidium sp. in a pill bottle (because that’s what I had at the time haha. The perks of being mentally ill…). I released this guy after taking some photos, and then was contacted by Ray Fisher (an American acarologist), who asked if I would be willing to send him over for study. I went back out to refind this guy (which, by the way, is ridiculously hard to do with a mite in a woodpile). I did find him again, and sent him over to Fisher! I still send him specimens from time to time, as he’s working on reorganizing the Trombidiform taxon! I have a potential opportunity to get to name a new species with this (since American mites are severely understudied and everything I’ve sent in is an undescribed species), and I’m overall just really excited to be working with him!

A Trombidium sp. on my hand! They’re so large for mites!

A Trombidiform of some kind in a log crevice! I really like this guy’s little white legs haha.

Same guy from above with a fellow Trombidiform (Trombidium sp.)!

Trombidium sp. belly!! I took a lot of photos of the ventral sides of these mites. They have two major openings (aside from the mouth): the genital plate and the anus. The genital plate is the little mitussy in the center of this guy’s belly, and the anus is at the end of his abdomen (right in the middle of his little mite cheeks)!

Trombidium sp. in the wild. It’s so fucking funny to me how BRIGHT they are. He looks so out of place in the grass, but he’s supposed to be here, and it’s just 😭😭

Fun story with this little Trombidium sp.! So I had a lightning bug in a container (for a miscellaneous mite project), and found a tiny little pupa in there after a couple days! I texted Fisher and was like “👀 what is he,” and he told me it was a Trombidium that had been parasitizing the lightning bug! So, with his instruction, I took the little guy out of the tank and put him in a separate pill bottle to wait for him to emerge. He did after about a week or two, into a smaller version of the mites I see outside! I’ve currently got him in a really tiny bioactive terrarium. I need to send him to Fisher, but I’m lazy and haven’t gotten around to it yet haha.

This little mite will routinely burrow down in the dirt and stay hidden in there for a couple weeks at a time, before randomly popping up to wander about on the surface. He’s made me worry he was dead more than once. But he always turns up! Absolute goober. I feel obligated to name him, but I haven’t gotten around to that either.

Image shows the lad on a carrot shaving, which is in there as food for the springtails and isopods!

And!! Last but not least, a young tick! I don’t actually know what kind of tick this guy is. He’s probably a Lone Star (Amblyomma americanum) because we have a lot of those around here, but I don’t know for sure haha. If you do, feel free to ID him for me!

So this guy is included because he is a mite! Ticks are usually separated from other mites based on an arbitrary categorization of shielded or thick-skinned vertebrate parasites versus everything else, but they are very much in the Acari subclass! They make up two families in the Parasitiform order, Ixodidae (hard ticks) and Argasidae (soft ticks). Ixodidae, a large order of about 17 genera, are what you see in North America and Europe, while Argasidae, made up of 5 accepted genera, are more common in South Asia.

Since they’re very much mites, they also deserve appreciation because they are wonderful and beautiful and fascinating.

…

Please let me know if you want me to send you more mite rambles, because Acari are my biggest hyperfixation at the moment and I love talking about them ❤️

MITE TIME!!!! Oh boy I love mites and they are severely underrated. This is an excellent collection of lads. I don’t wanna play favorites but that first dude has VERY silly legs and I love him deeply 🥺 But I also love the parasitic dude you found in the firefly container. I’ve definitely seen juvenile mites attached to bugs, so it’s fun to find one who had dropped off! Name suggestion: Goober.

PLEASE let me know if you get to name a species, that would be very exciting.

I agree ticks are wonderful and fascinating! Your little pal looks like Amblyomma sp., which would include the lone star tick so that’s more likely since they’re very common in your area. But there’s also the golf coast tick in the same genus that’s found in your area, too, and I wouldn’t know how to differentiate them as juveniles.

Feel free to share mite photos any time you like! Although I will say just a few photos per submission tends to be easier for people to read/reblog! Lots of people will block very long posts or not bother looking at them at all.

Btw dying at “mitussy” omg

[beanghostprincess]

Got blessed with the stupidest modern!au idea for Sanuso I just had to share because I enjoy the idea so much. Sanji getting dragged to an indoor Zoo that houses reptiles, amphibians and insects by his friends and trying his damndest to not be absolutely horrified by the bugs and arachnids in front of the ladies, failing horribly because Luffy of course is just super hyped the entire time (“WHOOA SANJI LOOK ITS WINGS ARE SO HUGE!” “SANJI THIS ONE LOOKS LIKE A STICK! “SANJI THIS ONES POISON CAN STUN A GROWN MA-“ -“NOPE!”). This leads to him having a minor panic attack until someone gently touches his shoulder and goes “Hey, are you good?”. And that’s how Sanji meets local zookeeper and bugenthusiast Usopp, who not only manages to whisk him away to the staff room to steady his nerves with some coffee but also makes Sanji laugh and just hits it off with him immediately. Just in love with the idea of those two becoming fast friends and falling in love while Sanji also has to grit his teeth and face that the guy he’s falling for will also start infodumping about tarantulas the second he gets a chance and Usopp having to navigate about his crushes fear of insects by having to put a towel over all of his five terrarium’s he has at home because he’s considerate like that (and the fact that Sanji even wants to come up to his place with him, even tough Sanji is horrified at the thought of even being in the same room as a praying Mantis and that makes him feel all warm inside)

this is the sweetest most adorable thing in the whole world and i think i just died a little reading it /pos

imagine sanji trying to overcome his fear by letting usopp teach him about insects!!! he still feels unsafe around them, but the fact that someone as sweet as usopp likes them so so much makes him think a bit differently of them.

also, turns out he really likes usopp's apartment because despite being full of terrariums and insects, it's also full of plants and vegetation. and sanji loves both the aesthetic and the food he could make with them. like, i'm sure usopp has a private orchard somewhere (idk, say the roof of the building) and sanji would absolutely love to come over to his apartment only to make him different meals with the vegetables he cultivates.

and this is cliché af but i'm thinking about usopp having the keys to the zoo and bringing sanji with him at night. sanji isn't.... as excited as usopp ("the tarantulas are going to eat me and you won't even notice before it's too late!" "sanji, that's literally impossible." "IT'S DARK. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY DO IN THE DARK!" "I LITERALLY DO KNOW. I STUDIED THEM, YOU IDIOT!"). but usopp takes him to a place that's dark and full of trees and sanji is 100% sure they shouldn't be there because it doesn't look like a place for visitors. there's no sign or animals around and it's just... it's just trees and kind of looks like a forest. turns out it's the back of the zoo, (let's pretend the zoo is like, in a mountain. close to the woods. i don't know how to describe it, but i once went to one like that and it was pretty) usopp tells him, and that people are never here because you can't get here without climbing and the only possible entrance is a little hallway that was accidentally created building the zoo's structure because they just forgot to cover it up. apparently, only usopp and zoro (he's the security guard, by the way) know about this.

so turns out the whole place is full of fireflies. which are not as scary as sanji thought they were. they're beautiful. and of course, usopp is so not looking at them, if you know what i mean. he's lost staring at sanji's eyes. i think that's when they both know they're meant to be together despite being so different.

-> a lil bit of zolu: luffy loves going to this zoo and often tries to talk to the animals and climb on stuff so zoro has to stop him all the time. not because he wants to stop him, it's just his job. tbh most of the time the guy is sleeping and finds the job boring, so somebody doing all this crazy shit around the zoo makes his life wayyy more interesting. if they fall in love or not that's up to you (they definitely do, though).

[kleefkruid]

Hi! I am Lora. I live in Belgium. I speak Flemish, which is just Dutch with extra funny words. I'll get into what I'm about and what I post on here. But let me start with a quick summary so you immediately know you're at the right adress or not:

Mental health, mental ilness, D&D, art, biology, bugs, Belgian/european news/politics, queer shit, my cats, my aquarium, school,...

Now, let's get into the details!

What's my identity? I'm very loosy goosy with this. all pronouns are fine, I don't use any gender label, although I've jokingly refered to myself as 'gender disinterested'. I just don't wanna play! Sexuality is ehhh, people. I use bisexual in my daily life bc that is easier. I'm also not monogamous.

What's up with my brain? I'm diagnosed autistic, currently checking for ADHD. I have spend a lot of time in mental hospitals, dealing with depression, generalised and social anxiety, panic attacks, all the classics really. I spend 12 months on a ward that specialises in emotional regulation disorders, where I received dialectical behaviour therapy. I'm only back in 'the real world' for a few months now, so this comes up often. I'm working towards becoming a certified life experience avocate, a sort of middle man between patients and mental health/disabiliy workers. That's why I'm very open about this, but I always want to mention that you don't have to, and that it can make you a target to people who don't mean well.

What do I study? I have a degree in Graphic design, but based on my elective it would be better to say that I have a degree in illustration. I also went to art school in high school so I have a basis in a lot of things, like film, theatre, webdesign and so on. My comics are on instagram (english, Dutch) and in 'my comics' tag I also did 1 year of a biology bachelor and 1 year of social work, because I was a bit lost over the years. Right now I'm about to start a degree in applied psychology.

let's put the rest under a cut!

D&D I've been following Critical role for a long time, just getting into Dimension 20. I tag cr spoilers for anything relatively new, about 3 weeks or so. I usually tag with 'critical role' or 'Dimension 20' and then the name of the campagn so you can block these tags to avoid spoilers for specific campagns. I play myself but I don't have a group currently since I moved and pandemics and hospitals happened. I play a human druid, circle of the moon, who is bug themed. You all have official permission to talk about your PC's to me at all times!

Pets I have two cats, Marcel and Oskar, who are very sweet and very dumb. There's also a couple of strays that live on my roof, mother and daughter who I call Michelle and Kotelet. They continiously broke into my appartment to steal food so I started to socialise them. It's been going pretty well. I have a big planted community aquarium. It's a self cleaning eco system with a side sump. I have Giant danios and golden danios, amano shrimp, a mix of neo caradina shrimp, corydora's, apple snails, malasian trumpet snails and sulawesi snails. I had a giant african landsnail called Gertude, but she passed away very recently. I also have a box of powder orange isopods who used to be in the big terrarium with Gertrude. And a pot of springtails. I'm trying to turn the old terrarium into a paludarium (riparium to be exact) but I'm waiting on the next hyperfocus wave to finish this. All the stuff is currently in boxes in my livingroom, sighhh. Other hobbies man I widly swing from one to the next. Right now I'm doing crepe paper flowers. I do origami and paper crafts. I embroider. I read. I keep up my house plants and a bunch of stuff on my balcony. I cook. I sketch. I like fashion, make up and skin care. I love to research random shit. I've acted in a few things. I have a guitair I can't play. I bookbind.

Dutch - Belgium I sometimes post in Dutch. I will add the relevant translations in the tags. It's mainly regional jokes with other Belgians and Dutch people, so I can't always properly explain. I also blog a bit about local news. Belgian stuff gets tagged as Belgiumposting and everything relating to Europe or the other countries in it gets tagged as Europosting.

[woeisme-iamwoe]

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2

IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many

Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)

 I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay. 

The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.

"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

 primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)

All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully 

They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom. 

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)

I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it. 

"I'm not healing like I should be."

In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.

Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.

 Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)

Kissy, kissy. 

‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.

Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.

‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’

Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.

 Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)

Reads like a fairytale. 

The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.

The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.

 make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)

Bet still on. 

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

 our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch  

 two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)

Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes. 

Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.

There’s a letter attached.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them. 

Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)

Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!

“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.” 

in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)

Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?

Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.

There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.

“What the hell, Oikawa.”

Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.

 we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)

Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. 

They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)

I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love. 

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

 Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):

The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on. 

In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.

5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)

1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.

2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.

3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.

4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.

5. He literally never, ever sleeps.

 The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):

You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with. 

A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.

 darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)

Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married. 

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

 the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)

Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic. 

Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

 Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)

Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites. 

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

 A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

 Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)

Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience. 

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

 Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)

So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride. 

over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.

(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).

 No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)

Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).

Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

 Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)

Growing older together. 

When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.

 Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)

Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while. 

‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.

And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.

This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’

--

For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.

What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.

 The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.

“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.

 Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.

 cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)

Sooo cute!! 

“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”

 Routine, by snoqualmie  (2k. T. canonverse)

Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly. 

Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.

 Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)

Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso. 

It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.

“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”

It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.

“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.

“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.

 Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)

Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read. 

Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.

Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.

 the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit. 

“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”

Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”

 the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)

My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it. 

One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.

—

This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).

 I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)

The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful. 

It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong. 

 my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)

Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.

In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.  

 Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)

Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth. 

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week. 

 especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)

Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love. 

The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.

(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)

 sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)

Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried. 

In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.

 of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)

Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together. 

Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.

[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]

 cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)

Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot. 

For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.

 Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa. 

 Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)

A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it. 

Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.

In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.

 i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)

Soft, soft sex

When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.

Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.

 old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)

Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet. 

“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.

Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”

Hajime swallowed.

“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”

((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))

 all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)

This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay. 

Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings. 

 we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)

I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it. 

In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.  

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

 Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)

A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother. 

She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”

-

Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.

 film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)

Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!

The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru. 

 how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)

This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse. 

It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.

[theseathatsparkles]

On Bugs

so for creative writing class we were told to imitate Amy Dillard’s writing style. This is the essay on bugs that I ended up making. Not Bleach, I know, but I thought someone might enjoy it. 

This took so long to write oh my god ;-;

also, I am fully aware that not all insects are bugs, and that spiders aren’t either of the two, but. bug is much more fun to say.

Word count - 1500 on the dot

@despairforme THE BUG ESSAY. IT’S HERE. @onenicebugperday you inspired me to write a four page essay about bugs i hope you’re happy

When I was in third grade, I dropped a dandelion down the back of my classmate’s shirt. She was upset, having thought the rather inconspicuous dandelion was a daddy long-legs spider. She’d screamed, slapped me on the chest in an attempt to escape her arachnid harasser, and had decided to wage war against me for the rest of our time together in school.

I never was afraid of spiders the way she was. Spiders and snakes and all sorts of bugs, so long as I could be assured they weren't poisonous, had always held a special place in my heart - and, more often than not, my hand. Growing up in woody, wet Germany gave me a healthy dosage of ladybugs, crickets, and snails at a young age, and I never looked at a bug with anything other than fascination. 

It’s the middle of winter, now. There aren’t many bugs around. Forty-two little silhouettes in the light above my desk, but none of them move, empty exoskeletons like shells. They’re probably dry, and if I touched one I’m sure it would crumble under my fingers. There seem to be more of them every time I look up; it’s the middle of winter, so the warmth of the indoors must be especially tantalizing. Right now, there isn’t any wind outside, but the world seems to be painted in shades of grey. Even looking outside makes you feel cold, and the drifts of iced-over snow outside of the window just emphasize this.

I have mixed feelings about winter. I love the snow, love having an excuse to stay inside wrapped in blankets on the days I don’t have school. I love that there aren’t mosquitoes to follow me around - I must taste good to them, since they always seem to swarm me. But the lack of the bugs I do like - spiders, caterpillars, grasshoppers, even the jeweled dragonflies that swarm our canoes in summer - makes winter feel especially harsh. 

When I’m feeling more grey than usual, I turn to the internet to soothe me. My computer has a tab open - one nice bug per day. The third picture that appears on image search is a gorgeous skeleton leaf moth, the row under that containing a domino cuckoo bee. I smile, looking at the pictures.  A photo of a hissing cockroach wearing a tiny paper party hat jumps out at me, curled around a leaf. I click on the picture, save it to my gmail by emailing it to myself. I’ll take some time to admire them later.

The bigger the bug the better, of course. Small bugs are hard to track, and the idea of one getting somewhere without me knowing about it gives me chills. That’s probably why I hate ants; they swarm up your legs and into your shoes and socks and it takes far too long to extract them all, and you feel phantom itches on your body for the next day or so. 

The fear of ants is called myrmecophobia, and often goes hand-in-hand with entomophobia - the fear of insects. When I was young - still in Elementary school, at a time before my decision to quit soccer - I’d practice with my mom in the field a bit southeast of the elementary school tucked at the base of the mountain pass. The playground had been north of us. I always wanted to go back to the playground. The whole complex had been a good half hour’s drive from my house, so we didn’t go there often, but it had an excellent jungle gym and some new swings. It got hot easily, out there under the sun; if I didn’t bring water, the ninety-degree weather would feel twenty degrees hotter, the sort of heat that makes you lightheaded and grumpy. 

But my mom had told me to play soccer, and she wasn’t the sort of person who you could say no to easily. I tried, of course, in futile attempts that would end with me in tears and my mom seething, but always ended up on that field, kicking the ball back and forth as my mom chastised me for skipping to the goal. Skipping, apparently, was slower than running.

 I’d hated soccer. 

It was one of those days that solidified my fear of ants. Wyoming doesn’t have fire ants or most other nasty biting bugs, so I was never in real danger, but that didn’t stop the whole experience from being traumatic. My mom, of course, had laughed about it later; it seems to be a habit of adults to take the irrational fears of children lightly. The ants crawling up my leg had probably been just as afraid of me as I was of them, but knowing that didn’t help any. Adults will tell you that the shark that bit off your arm was just as afraid of you as you were of it, but that doesn’t change the fact that your arm’s gone. 

I’d been unlucky enough to step right in an ant nest, the sort that stays hidden by the short grass until something, or someone, disturbs it. It hadn’t looked different from the regular ground from my five feet, but the moment I felt a tickle on my leg, I knew. 

I’d screamed. I think anyone would have screamed when confronted with one of their worst fears, so I never was ashamed of my reaction, even if I’d hated the exasperation and faint amusement on my mom’s face. The ants had come right off, lady fortune smiling on me that day, and I hadn’t found any tiny ant corpses in my shoes when I took them off that afternoon - a rarity; ants always seem to turn up in unexpected places post-encounter. I’d been paranoid, though, and had hopped around on one foot until I was a safe distance from the nest before shoving my hands down my socks to search for any lone ants. There were none.

I refused to resume play until I was positive there were no ants on me, of course. Even when we started the game again I was wary, taking light steps and watching the ground like a hawk for any sign of another insect. It had taken the fun out of the game pretty quickly, and we went home soon after.

The internet goes out for a moment, and the photo of the mantis I’m looking at shifts to a grey screen. I frown, take a second to stand up and stretch. My legs and shoulders are especially sore. By the time I sit down again, my picture has loaded again, and I scroll to the left to see a swallowtail butterfly looking out of the screen at me. They have yellow fur around their eyes and antennae, and look vaguely curious. This picture also goes to my saved folder to look at later, and I keep scrolling.

When I was in second grade, we studied bugs in science class. Not extensively; there’s only so much work you can get done as a scatterbrained second grader, and bugs weren’t on the top of my list of priorities. But we studied them, and after a few weeks our teacher imported seven Madagascar hissing cockroaches to be our class pets.

Nobody in my class was afraid of them; I think we were too young to be afraid of something as hideously cute as those little insects. They remind me of pugs now, disgusting in the sort of way that makes you want to coo over them. We’d kept them in a little glass terrarium in the back of the classroom, and took them out during lunch break and sometimes to sketch them during art. Our teacher had told us how to tell the males and females apart, but the information had gone straight in ear and out the other, like water through a sieve. There are two things I can remember about them now: first, that they would shed their skins sometimes and we’d have to clean out their terrarium; second, that if you poked their heads, they’d hiss.

The second thing was the most important to my little second-grade brain. My classmates and I took great satisfaction in poking the cockroaches and watching them puff up and make little hissing sounds like air coming out of a tire. They’d always make their funny wheezing sound, and we’d sit there for minutes on end - the longest amount of time our young minds could stay on track for - and tap them, giggling uncontrollably as they got progressively more frustrated.

I like bugs. I’m no entomologist, I would never spend my days in the wild watching them through magnifying glasses. But I still like them. Their colors remind me of spring and summer, and I love their size - perfect to pick up and put on a fingertip. They’re much more simple than people, never worried about money or jobs or politics. They have no worries, no fears.

I would love to be a bug.

[flameleads]

@gcldenchild​ asked:

though his footsteps are unnaturally quiet, sun boy is moving towards his bampás while in his field of view. he’s also holding something behind his back — something a little large.

it isn’t until his hands move into view that a jar full of glass cranes in a little beach-themed terrarium decorated with crystals is exposed to his eyes. where did he keep it? who knows. but there’s faint transmutation marks around every part of it, so clearly he made it all himself.

“ ah … bampás. h-happy father’s day. sorry, ‘m not really used t’ celebratin’ this at all … but i made this f’ y’. ”

he’s quiet and squirmy. this is his first time celebrating this since — well since he was 4, really.

god, it’s been so long since he had a stable father figure to celebrate.

“ ‘m not really good at this sort’a thing … but th’ cranes are just a thing i associate with y’. mustangs, i mean. i almost pulled a prank on m’ own by makin’ a thousand of’em outta his mail t’ put in his office back in east hq, but that fell through when he caught m’. ‘m not gonna do that t’ y’, but i thought … glass cranes might b’ nice. there’s also some palm oil scent in there t’ help keep bugs away from it  … i-i know ‘s not really much, but —

iwannagivesomethin’t’yabecausey’tookcare’am’wheniwasatm’worstokayilovey’. ”

…. that last bit was fast. but he’s not running — he’s just glancing down at the floor with a red face.

it seems he’s still getting used to saying i love you to people other than luna.

He hadn’t moved from his spot in the dining room. Edward knew what he was doing by getting him to eat a full breakfast and not just the slim pickings he grew used to. It meant his father stayed put for longer before and after eating. Contentedly full, he sipped at his second cup of coffee. There would be more, his son said, and he had no idea what that meant.

Wait, was Edwin in on this too? Roy tilted his head to the side as he watched the other approach. He had something behind his back. Did... did he get him something? But he wasn’t---no, Edwin called him bampás, which translated to what Edward called him. He wasn’t sure how he earned that moniker from a boy he only knew for a couple of months, but he wasn’t about to reject it. Quite frankly, it was an honor.

And what an honor this gift was. Carefully, Roy took the jar from Edwin’s hands to study it. Those were cranes if he recalled correctly---Hawkeye knew fauna better than he did. Cranes made out of glass in a terrarium, one decorated with crystals. He... he made this for him. Doing so had to have taken a lot of precise alchemy and time. Black eyes traced over what he could see in pure admiration.

It was beautiful. To think Edwin took the time to make him something so precious only after knowing him for less than a year. Once again exercising great care, Roy put the jar down on the dining room table as he looked to Edwin. Of course he wasn’t used to celebrating this day---he couldn’t blame him for that. So nervous too, his voice quiet. Not once did Roy interrupt. There was a story behind this gift, and he wanted to hear it.

Like many good stories, it started with a prank---well, what almost became a prank. His Mustang was just as perceptive then. Good to know. The number one thousand had significance that Roy didn’t miss, though. If one made one thousand paper cranes and made a wish, said wish would come true. Wasn’t that how it went? Edwin made glass ones for him instead, and he even thought ahead for a way to keep the bugs away. This gift was incredibly thoughtful, and he knew exactly where it would go in his room.

Not before he thanked Edwin, though. A small smile accompanied watery eyes as he moved to hold his arms open. If the other didn’t want to hug him, he would accept that. He merely wanted to show gratitude.

“I love you too, and I love what you made me. This took a lot of time and thought, didn’t it? I can tell.” Pausing, he considered his next words for several seconds. Xerxian wasn’t his strong suit when it came to languages, but he knew enough. “‘B’ni’---that’s what you are to me. I’ll take care of you at your best, your worst, and everything in-between, all right? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #306

i’m v talkative today so pardon my jabbering below.

What is the strangest type of candy you have eaten? I think I've had one of those lollipops with a bug in it before as a kid? I don't remember. What would be your most ideal profession? A freelance photographer. But I'm honestly starting to lose hope. Have you tried those coloring books for adults? Yeah; it's funny you mention 'em, 'cuz a family friend got me one for my birthday earlier this month. What is a topic you definitely don't want to talk about with anyone? I don't like talking about my sexual history, doesn't matter who you are. It's just uncomfortable. What was your first gaming console? An Atari. Is there something you're eagerly waiting for? What is it? *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* MAY NEEDS TO FUCKIN' HURRY. My tattoo appointment is set then. :''') Do you/have you ever belonged to an organization? If so, which one? I was a Girl Scout when I was young. What is something you're very passionate about? Nature conservation, gay rights (equal rights in general, really), the pro-choice movement, and then there are less "important" things like certain hobbies interests and such. I'm sure there are more big ones that are just slipping my mind right now, considering I feel passionately for a shitload of stuff. What are you studying or what was the last thing you studied? I majored in Art & Design with a focus on Photography in college. But guess who dropped out. What was the last present you gave someone? I don't know... I mention enough that I don't have a source of income where I can really buy anything. I think the last thing I did was a Christmas gift for Mom a year or two back of a drawing I did of our late dog Cali, whom she absolutely adored. Do you enjoy plays? If so, what was the latest one you saw? Not really, no. What was the last thing you achieved? PHP has helped me focus on little victories, so prepare for an underwhelming answer haha, but it's something. I Facebook messaged an old friend I really wanted to catch up with, and everyone in group cheered for me. :') It was really heartwarming. What a shocker that this program is really helping me once again. What is something you would like to achieve at some point in your life? I would love love love to take at least one "famous" or award-winning photograph. It'd be such amazing validation that I'm talented at something I love so much. What is one philosophy you have regarding life/living/purpose? That's... difficult to answer seeing as I'm trying desperately to find my purpose. I do try to live by this old quote a therapist said once: "Deal with life, or life deals with you." I think it holds an incredible amount of depth and meaning in such a short phrase. How would you design the inside of your own home? I don't know the details of it, really, besides that shit is gonna look like a Halloween house year-round. I can imagine wanting black furniture, too, and having loooots of decor expressive of what I love and find comfort in. Gotta make a house feel like a home just for me. What is a band you remember liking from your childhood? Backstreet Boys, duh. Do you ever get mad at people for not having the same opinion as you (i.e. abortion being wrong/right, meat-eating being wrong/right)? Two things: it depends on the topic, and "get mad" is the wrong term for what I feel. It's more disgust; ex., I'm repulsed by anti-gay rights people and want absolutely nothing to do with 'em, but I'm not like, mad at them. Do you edit any of your pictures? In what ways? Oh yeah, and it definitely depends on the raw photograph. I edit depending on the mood it emanates; like if you've seen my roadkill photography versus nature shots, there is an extremely distinct difference in editing style and vibe. I'd say in general though, I tend to like to brighten my photographs and add more vibrance. If you like to take pictures, what is your motivation? God, I could write an essay on this. I just love and am so thankful for the fact we can literally freeze time forever with the click of a button and look back on fantastic sights, beautiful moments, memories... It's just magical to me, and I adore contributing to that art. Would you ever consider living anywhere cold? Well yeah, that's my preference, actually. What is your absolute favorite food? The spicy shrimp fritas from Olive Garden, jfc. Would you ever wear snake-skin pants, or other animal clothing? Fuck to the absolute hell no. What foreign country would you like to go to for a shopping spree? Idk, considering I'm not well-versed in the artistic creations of other countries. Perhaps India? Japan? I dunno. If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him/her? I'm asking for his fucking autograph and a hug while I smile my face in two AND cry lmao. What do you spend most of your day thinking about? I ain't gonna bullshit nobody, my PTSD. In some way or another, he's lurking in that head of mine through memories, flashbacks, wonders of what could have gone differently... but thank God it's no longer in the forefront of my mind after my first PHP. I've come very, very far, but especially when trying to blank out my mind to fall asleep, parts of PTSD strangle my brain until I'm just finally out. I really hope that changes someday. Where is a busy place you would like to go to? Yikes, nowhere, really. I like to avoid busy locations. Do you think video games cause people to become violent? Absolutely not. You are responsible for the decisions you make; music, games, movies, etc. have no deciding voice in stupid shit you do, and it's bullshit that people blame art and entertainment for such things. Vocabulary: What was the last word you learned? I'm unsure. Have you or could you build your own site? Absolutely not from scratch. The closest I've gotten to that is my photography website, but it was through the assistance of Wix. What's the best thing you can cook yourself? Scrambled eggs, haha. I do make some bomb eggs at least. Are there a lot of graffiti around your neighborhood? No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. God, I want to go vegetarian again... Besides English, what other languages can you speak? I can speak a very little bit of German. Took four semesters of it in high school and became very good at it, but lack of practice has pretty much ruined that. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well; as in, I can pronounce most words I see, but that doesn't mean I understand what is written. Do you think you could make it as a chef? Gordon Ramsey would deadass kick me off his show on day one, lmao. What's your favorite kind of tea? It marvels me JUST how many tea and coffee questions are in surveys. Anyway, I don't like tea. I am an embarrassment to NC culture. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you've been? lask;dfjal;wekrjwe What's the most freeing thing you've ever done? Stealing my happiness back from someone who had no right to hold it all in its entirety. That shit's mine. Do you think today's kids are really impatient? Most, probably, but in some ways I can understand it - at least, in the sense that with the assistance of modern technology and advancements in satiating our wants so quickly, kids just expect it. I definitely believe that patience is something to try to be deeply instilled in everyone, though. I don't have an ounce of it (in most situations) and wish I did. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? One of my favorite Southern experiences is finding a bunch of honeysuckles and tasting the honey (is it technically even honey??). Tastes amazing. My family's hairdresser lives down a beautiful path that sprouts a massive amount of them, and as kids, my sisters and her two boys would go tasting them while our parents talked for so long, or if we were waiting our turn. Good memories. What has been your worst restaurant experience? I'm not sure, really. What's the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? "Inappropriate humor type jokes." <<<< They can get me sometimes, too. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? No, thankfully. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? I don't believe so, no. Besides making a tye-dye one in HS with our school colors. Wasn't my idea and never wore it, haha. Do you ever read other people's survey answers? It depends on the person. If it's a friend, absolutely, because I love learning usually obscure things about them I wouldn't have known otherwise. If it's a user I don't know from wherever I got the survey, sometimes, depending on how short the answer is and my eyes kinda just scroll over it. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, especially mornings. I'm generally happier when there's light around. What's your highest level of education so far? Some college. Describe your ordinary day: My average day is embarrassingly uneventful. It's sitting on the laptop doing shit on various sites, none of which are actually important, and playing WoW, which is also without true substance, save for social interactions with my friends on there. I spray Venus' terrarium everyday multiple times as well to keep the humidity up, and obviously eat and handle that kinda bodily needs stuff. Would you ever have a UV tattoo? Ugh, that'd be so dope. I've seen some awesome ones, but idk if I'd get one, considering when am I actually going to be under UV light?? Like I wanna be able to see my tat. What is the brand and color name of your favorite lipstick? I have one black lipstick, but it comes right off so I don't even like it. I only ever put it on to take pictures. What do you like on your tortilla? Just ham and cheese. How about inside your pita bread? I've never had pita bread, actually. What do you like in your burger? It depends on where I'm getting the burger. My basic is cheese, ketchup, mustard, a bit of mayo, pickles, and a light sprinkle of diced onion, but sometimes I add bacon and take away the onions. How about on your pizza? I have three I tend to pick from: pepperoni, jalapeno, or meat lovers. Do you work better alone or in a group? Alone, definitely. Which body part would you not mind losing? I'ma be extremely honest, with just how horribly weak my legs are, I could live without them, I guess. Not saying I want to by any means, it's just exhausting using them. Ideally, I'd take away something minor, like a finger or something. What common saying people use is absolute BS to you? “'Everything happens for a reason.'” <<<< Fuckin' colossal "same." I won't rag on people who believe it, especially if it gives you courage to keep moving forward, but I don't believe it in the slightest. If it were so, I'd like to talk to whoever is in control of those "reasons," please. What is the most interesting thing you’ve read or seen this week? I had no idea elephants were pregnant for two years, like holy shit, can you imagine. It was in an article I saw on Facebook about a mother and daughter elephant who are both expecting and doing well. Wonderful to hear. What’s the most useless talent you have? Ha, I'm a master in the arts of catastrophizing and jumping to conclusions involving people hating me in one way or another. What’s something everyone looks stupid doing? I'm one of those people who hate dabbing done by anybody, like you look like you're just smelling your armpit. Which kids’ movie scarred you for life? I wouldn't say "scarred me for life" by any means, but when I was little, I was terrified of the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz and even had nightmares about her. It sucked because my little sister was obsessed with that movie, haha. In one sentence, how would you sum up the Internet? A source of incredible knowledge but also hate and misinformation. What would be the most ridiculous thing for the government to make illegal? I literally dread the idea of Roe vs. Wade being reversed. Banning abortion would kill so many people with operational uteruses and cause absolute pandemonium. How many friends do you have on social media and how many of them do you know for real? On Facebook, I have 124 friends, and I'd say I know most of them "in real life." However, having been on the Internet since I was so young and befriending loads of incredible people, a good chunk are "online friends." Hell, I'm more interested in their lives than most "real" ones. Long-distance friendships are so valid. What fact amazes you every time you think of it? Lots of things, generally regarding the stupidity of humanity. What’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done? Probably going to the beach w/ my old friend Colleen. We had zero plans of doing it, but she just called me one morning and asked if I wanted to go, and off we went. It was a fun day. What has taken up too much of your life? I'ma be real, WoW. I don't think I'm addicted to it like I once was seeing as I go through spans where I barely want to play it at all and don't, so I truly am capable of not playing it, but rather it's just the most entertaining way to kill time in my life. I just don't like how much time I've invested into a game over six or seven years regardless. Where do you not mind waiting? Uh, nowhere lmao. Is there an app you hate to use, but still use every day? No; why would I use it if that was the case? Who is the funniest person you know? My friend Girt is fucking hysterical. What three words describe you best? Complex, passionate, and creative. What makes you think you’re smart? Lol who says I think I'm smart? Who inspires you? Korean Jesus. Okay on a serious note, not just him, of course, but he's #1 in an entire universe of ways. Do you aspire to be like somebody else? If so, who? No; I want to be my own authentic self. How did you meet your best friend? YouTube, back when it had more social aspects. Which one of your accomplishments are you the most proud of? I want to say my recovery, but like... I wonder a lot if it's "enough" to be proud of with how scarred I still am? I still struggle with a lot and feel like I could be so much better by now if I tried harder. If I'm completely honest with myself, I think it's finishing high school in the top percentile of my graduating class. There was a ceremony for the handful of us and all, and I cherish my plaque probably too much. Reminds me of a time when I knew what the fuck I was doing. What's the strangest thing you ever did as a child? Thinking I had "animal powers" where I could invoke the traits of certain animals at will, like what the actual fuck, Brittany. What did your mother teach you? Christ, a lot. Dad didn't do a lot of the raising, honestly, so much of my core values and whatnot were instilled by my mother. She taught me to care for and be nice to others, respect myself, try my best in everything, and most importantly that she is always there for me and my sisters no matter what and can tell her absolutely anything. She was very serious about us going to college and saving sex for marriage when we were younger, but she diverged from those ideas as absolutely necessary with experience. I'm extremely lucky with who I call my mom, overall. What did your father teach you? Eek... Read above. Not a lot as a kid (save for riding a bike and playing softball); most he's taught me has come following reuniting with him after my parents' divorce. I remember we went to lunch once and talked about my breakup, and he talked to me about sometimes, you just have to let people go in order to be happy, like with him and Mom. He's very serious now about ensuring us girls know that he is always there for us and will help us in any way he's capable. What makes you feel powerful? "Powerful" isn't something I really feel, if I'm being real. What are you ready to let go? It would be inexplicably fantastic if I could let every speck of Jason go in both my head and heart. What is your most bizarre deal-breaker? I don't really find any of my expectations and limits as "bizarre?" They're all valid to me. Well wait, idk if you'd find it strange that I absofuckinglutely would not date someone who hunts, but it's not to me. That's a difference in a very serious value to me. Would you rather be hated or forgotten? Hated. God, I don't want to leave this earth having given just nothing. I can live with some people hating me for whatever reason. What’s the biggest personal change you’ve made? Accepting my bisexuality, probably. That's something that I consider pretty big for two reasons: 1.) I could end up with a woman forever, and especially 2.) I was originally homophobic. I still have difficulty in fathoming how I ever was. What are some of your short-term goals? PHP is finally starting to make me build these again. I want to get better at selfcare, draw, write, and read more, I want to drink a lot more water, exercise way more... Lots of things, really. What is the weirdest thing about you? Uh. I dunno. Probably that I RP meerkats, which is a very obscure RP niche for sure.

[psychopersonified]

Can your AI do this?

Post Are we ever going to talk about this? and Where was the wooing? (AO3)

Highly recommended to read the series first to get emotionally invested in their story arc. This short piece will feel a lot more satisfying once you know their backstory. But you can still read this as a stand alone.

Q-Branch gets a pet (for science! purposes). Bond tests a new vehicle, and Q gets thoroughly... well you know 😉.

Tags: *Ahem* Fun-times content (be responsible), newly established relationship, humour, fluff with feeling, banter.

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

SIS Building - Q-Branch

The little bug eyed bright yellow creature stares up at him from inside its glass terrarium. From that angle, it looks like its smiling up at them.

Q closes the cover after replacing the water dish, “We’re studying its movements and ability to adhere to surfaces. With all the sensitives around drone use and anti-drone capabilities these days, we’re thinking a robot that is a little more discrete would be more effective. Something small, quiet, that won’t trigger existing alarm systems and a much longer battery life. Potentially it might not even need to enter the premises, it could make its way up the side walls and observe from outside.“

“You’re just using that as an excuse to keep something cute.“ The creature raises itself on all fours, head head high, staring at Bond curiously.

“Well I’m not denying it’s good for morale as well.” Q waves his fingers at the creature and it responds by licking an eye with a pink tongue.

“Not mine. I’ve seen your little machine learning side project. You’re working on replacing me with an AI, and a robot gecko. So much for job security.”

“Oh don’t worry. Not until we can fit a miniaturised poison dart gun to the robot, we’ll still need you around.”

“Thanks,” Bond huffs, mildly put out. “So is there anything I can do for you at the moment? Or have you called me here just to insult me?”

Q isn’t fooled, he knew Bond was looking for any excuse to cut short his meeting with M and 009. Agent 007 has a low tolerance threshold for bureaucratic meetings; once past the hour mark, his attention span wanes significantly and he becomes disruptive.

Q smiles at him, “Believe it or not, I’ve actually called you here for legitimate reasons. This way please 007.”

——

London River Thames

They’re standing on the dock under the SIS building. Bobbing in the water attached to a boat is what can only be described as a watercraft bearing an uncanny resemblance to a dolphin.

“It’s a modified Seabreacher; we’ve enhanced its submersible capabilities up to 15 ft and of course added a light weapons system. We’ve also given it an electric motor for low speed stealth mode.”

Bond turns him, expression hopeful. Q has to quickly clarify, “Before you get excited, it’s not assigned to you. But I do need a test pilot today.”

Bond exhales; a put upon sigh. As if he wasn’t internally itching to get into the machine. Q waits for him to change into something more comfortable. When Bond returns, he is in a black turtleneck that showcases the muscles of his upper body to great effect. His holster worn over it and he has driving gloves on. He looks every bit the rouge he’s accused of being.

Q nearly looses his tablet stylus to the Thames when it drops out of his distracted hand and rolls perilously close to a gap between the planks of the dock. He saves it by stepping on it quickly.

They tow the Seabreacher a short distance upriver, somewhere between Battersea Bridge and Chelsea Bridge where river traffic is a little less busy. Bond has an excellent time testing out the craft, quickly getting the hang of barrel rolls, executing spin stops and 90 degree surface breaches and finally, porpoising through the water mimicking the movements of real dolphins. The stealth submersible mode works excellent too, but the Thames has disappointingly poor visibility so there’s not much to see. However it gives them a chance to try the newly installed underwater sonar navigation system. Pity they didn’t get to test the weapons system - the London City Council and the London Port Authority wasn’t too keen on allowing that.

All this acrobatic splashing about draws a crowd among the park visitors on both sides of the river and from the few boathouses docked on the northside of the bank. When the test ends, Bond pulls the craft up along side the waiting boat. He exits the cockpit to a smattering of appreciative applause from a passing tour boat - Americans on holiday likely. Native Londoners are unlikely to be this emotive. Bond smirks and gives them a curt wave.

He’s in such a good mood that once he’s jumped on board the tow boat, he stalks over to Q who had just finished tethering the craft, cups one side of his face with a gloved hand and pecks him quickly on the corner of the mouth in front of everyone.

“Can your AI do that?”

“You’re impossible,” Q lightly shoves him away. Mindful that they are still on the clock.

“And you love challenges.”

“Not impossible ones.”

“Says the man who is trying to replace me with a gecko.”

“You know what, I probably could program an autonomous mode into the thing. For starters, it’ll be far less infuriating.”

“I wasn’t talking about the craft...,” Bond reaches for Q again, this time swiping a thumb over the corner of his mouth where the agent just kissed.

“Get a room!… Sirs.” Nish yells at them from the helm of the tow boat. He’s still peeved that he lost money on the bet about them getting together.

——

Quartermaster’s Residence - Sexy times

Bond’s good mood extends all the way to the evening when they get home. Dinner was abysmally quick because a randy agent wouldn’t let Q sit down to eat; pressed up against him from behind, groping and palming him between the legs as he rushed through his food standing at the kitchen counter.

A quick shower later and they‘ve exiled the cats and seconded themselves in the bedroom.

“Talk to me about the Seabreacher again,” Bond instructs as he lowers a well prepared Q into his lap. The entry is tight but smooth. The heat of Q’s waiting body intoxicating.

Q savours the breach, the feeling of invading fullness as Bond pushes in. “Hmm... turns you on does it?“ Q wraps his arms around Bond’s neck and kisses him playfully before sucking on his bottom lip and nipping up the line of Bond’s jaw to give the agent’s earlobe a playful bite.

“How many horsepowers?” Bond rumbles, squeezing a fleshy cheek in retaliation and to prompt him along.

“300 from the twin supercharged intercooled ICE alone…,” Q breathes into his ear, “…another 50 from the electric motor... Ah!” Q grinds down to meet his upward thrust.

-Fuck YESSss-. He didn’t think it possible, but Bond feels himself stiffen further. He snakes a hand from behind, into Q’s hair and tugs his head back. “Weapons?” He mouths against the delicate column of Q’s pale exposed neck, latching on and sucking with every intention to bruise.

“Ngghhh!… Dorsal mounted assault rifle. Ah!... Two rounds of compact mini underwater torpedos.. Ooh... with blast force that could sink a yacht—“ the next thrust sends Q wailing “—Jaaaames!” Feeding right into his ego.

Bond kisses Q deeply. -God how he loves this man-, “Manoeuvrerbility?”

“Jet nozzle trust vectoring— *gasp*…full tail articulation… *gasp* …giving the pilot complete control to execute high speed 360 degree barrel rolls—“ Bond changes angle suddenly, “Fuck! James!” Q’s grip around the agent’s shoulders tightens to brace himself against it. The things this man does to him! The sudden intensity of sensation as Bond hits the right spot brings tears to his eyes.

“Mmm… What else can it do?” Bond demands, pulling Q downwards even as his hips snap up - growling with the force it.

It takes a few seconds for Q to recollect his thoughts, gritting his teeth, eyes squeezing shut. “High speed, 90 degree underwater to surface breaches… Oh God!… Submarine mode up to 15ft dept …*gasp* …electric powered stealth mode up to five…*gasp* …five nautical miles—,” Q buries his face in the crook of Bond’s neck moaning, “… Bullet proof cabin pod.”

Q is panting hard now, fingernails biting into the muscles of Bond’s back, riding through the staccato rhythm the best he can. “James, please. I can’t think anymore…” he begs.

Bond tips them over onto the bed so he’s on top and continues their practiced rhythm. Alternating between deep and shallow thrusts. With most of Q’s weight now supported by the bed, Bond can put all of his strength into his hip movements.

The intensity has Q gasping his name at every inward shove, which just fuels Bond’s possessive fire. It turns into a blaze - spurring him on; harder, deeper. Q’s previously restrained cries turn into outright wails and Bond has to muffle them with deep consuming kisses lest they scare the cats or the neighbours call the police on them.

Soon, the friction between their bodies along with the sweet repetitive drag of Bond’s unyielding girth and length inside him, angled just right, has Q whimpering for release; for mercy. His entire body is shaking -Too much!- “Please James!… Please… I need…. I need…,” Bond swallows every word of his plea with greedy possessive kisses, all the while not missing a stroke.

When Bond finally responds, his voice is low, gravelly and teasing, “Yes love, what do you need?” The gentleness of his tone a direct contrast to the unrelenting strength of his thrusts. The bastard knows exactly what he needs!

Frustrated, Q bites down on a thickly muscled shoulder, but that serves only to stoke Bond’s cruelty. His pumping slows, turning into deep powerful grinds. The pleasure is agonisingly drawn out, the sustained feeling of fullness, arguably more torturous.

“Oh God! Jaa—mees please!… I can’t… Ah!…” Q sobs in desperation, his body strung so tight, clawing for release, wanting, needing.

“Sshhh…” Bond soothes, strong hands caressing the length of Q’s body but his hips do not relent. Then comes more deep claiming kisses - stealing the very breath from him before Bond finally reaches down between them, grabs a firm but gentle hold of him and starts stroking, from root to tip, milking him exactly as he likes it.

Q moans brokenly. Body shuddering. One more deep angled thrust and a slow swipe of a calloused thumb over his leaking tip and Q arches his back in absolute unconditional surrender.

Pleasure rips trough his body, muscles tightening and spasming with his release - clamping down hard around the fullness still inside him for long seconds before slowly going lax. His brain shuts down into safe mode.

When he first comes to, he’s vaguely aware that James is still thrusting into him, face buried in his neck. With a final stuttering push he too tips over the edge, rooting deeply and coming in long spurts. The loud rapturous moan that escapes him is one of unreserved release. Never has Q heard him this vocal on missions, the sounds of pleasure usually only coming from his marks - 007 is himself usually silent, a few grunts and he’s done.

James collapses on top of him, their chest rising and falling in synchronised rhythm. Once they’ve finally caught their breaths, they’re kissing again, slow languid kisses of pure affection. James is still on top, propped up on his elbows, Q’s head cradled in his hands, his heavy warm weight a secure blanket. Q has never felt this completely possessed yet this utterly worshipped at the same time than when he is with James.

With a final noisy kiss, Bond reaches for the towel he’d set aside the bed earlier. Q’s brain finishes rebooting while Bond gently disengages and cleans up the mess between them.

The first coherent thought that comes to Q’s mind is, “You know, I think there might still be space to fit an auxiliary air supply unit to extend the submersible range.”

Bond pauses his clean up ministrations to kiss him again, “Careful love, keep saying those things and you just might instigate a second round.”

Q grins cheekily up at him, “Oh you like that do you? Wait till I tell you about the car we’re planning for you... Ah! James!!”  

The next day Q has to wear a hideous brown and grey stripped turtleneck to work and explain to Ops why MI6 received a notification that a police patrol unit was dispatched to his residence at 12:30am that morning.

——FIN——

If anyone would like to name the gecko, I’m open to suggestions.

Notes: If you liked this story, there’s more on the blog or AO3. Please like, reblog, comment etc. Enjoy!

[truthbeetoldmedia]

The 100 6x02 "Red Sun Rising" Review

Phase 1: Survive. Phase 2: Populate. It seems like such an easy charge to fulfill but this is The 100 and if this show’s taught us anything, it’s that nothing is ever as simple as it seems. Red Sun Rising opens up 236 years in the past (for those trying to track the timeline: The current in show year is 2281, which means that we are in the year 2045 at the beginning of this episode; 7 years before the apocalypse, 3 years after Diyoza launches a terrorist attack in Washington D.C., 2 years after the Eligus III is sent to the Asteroid Colony and 104 years before the show’s own pilot episode), with Josephine (later revealed to be Josephine Ada Lightborne-and that sounds mighty familiar) and Gabriel Santiago taking in the eclipse.

I can’t emphasize enough how much I loved everything about the opening for this episode. While we spent the Season 6 premiere, Sanctum, waking up our main characters and getting them into their places for the rest of the Season, Red Sun Rising sets up the beginning of a mystery that will, I hope, propel the plot for the episodes to come-and it’s all done in a masterful six minutes of screen time. We discover several important facts in this time:

The Lightbornes are a family of 3: Simone (Mom), Russell (Dad) and Josephine (daughter), a makeup exactly the same as Clarke Griffin’s.

Simone is a doctor, Russell is an astronomer and Josephine is a taxonomist (a biologist that groups organisms into categories).

They’ve only found three evolutionary species on the planet when they arrive: Insecta (insects), Rodentia (rodents) and Reptilia (reptiles).

Jospehine names the planet-Sanctum

Gabriel Santiago is a geneticist (a biologist who studies genes and heredity).

The need for sex for reproduction is implied to be unnecessary as there are “embryos”.

They’ve been on Sanctum for 21 days before the first eclipse happens.

Josephine and Gabriel hear a sonic anomaly.

Russell, the first affected by the eclipse, kills his wife, his daughter and several others.

Gabriel escapes.

Josephine mentions to Gabriel “We both know you’re obsessed with me.”/ Mr. Lightborne states “The last thing I need is a broken-hearted geneticist.”

Whew! That’s a lot of information crammed into a relatively short amount of time, and I believe that it’s all relevant to a broader theory that I’m beginning to develop. I’ll get back to that soon enough, but for now, read on below for my review of Red Sun Rising.

On Planet Alpha (AKA Sanctum):

Sanctum doesn’t seem like much of a refuge for our homeless buddies as we crash back into the present day. Within hours of their arrival our group is attacked by locusts, Shaw is killed in a radiation barrier and Emori is stabbing Murphy in a fit of rage. We return to them in this episode, discussing what made Emori fly off of the handle and almost murder Murphy in the process. They quickly discover, thanks to the book found in the school room in the episode prior (written by one Josephine Ada Lightborne-interesting that), that the plants emit a toxin that causes psychosis in most inhabitants of the planet and Emori was likely the first affected because she fell directly into a pile of them early on. Miller’s immediate solution is to...somehow prevent the air from entering the building they’re in and Echo is quick to help him-handing him jackets to seal the open spaces around the door. The tactic is humorous in its absurdity because that’s not how air flow works, but Miller and Echo (and later Murphy) aren’t the science guys so I’ll give them a pass. Eventually, they come up with a plan to use the cuffs located around the compound to secure themselves, and it’s a solid one, I hope they’ll stick to it (can you tell that they don’t?).

I found it interesting that Echo chose to stay with Emori while Bellamy, Murphy and Clarke are together in the school room and Jackson and Miller are in an upper level, but I’ll explain why in just a bit. Everything about Bellamy screams “Dad!” during the time they spend getting situated, from forcing Murphy to put his cuffs on to holding on to everyone’s keys (although he does entrust his own to Clarke). Bellamy seems to have forgiven Clarke for her betrayal in Season 5, notable when everyone else around her is determined to hold on to their (deserved) anger towards her, after learning from Madi-and confirming with Clarke in the premiere of Season 6, that she did indeed call him everyday to maintain her sanity, but he does seem aware that he can’t force the others to forgive her, even as he comes to her aid.

Murphy’s attacks on Clarke have been relentless and it seems that he and Raven are the angriest at Clarke. I hate to say it, because I know it’s an unpopular opinion, but I don’t believe that their anger is unfounded. There’s been a lot of noise in fandom about the fact that Clarke is owed forgiveness (a lot of times the complaints almost read as Clarke being owed deference) because she’s saved everyone’s lives countless times, but there are issues with this idea. As we listen to Murphy begin his listing of Clarke’s crimes, we see that he is not talking about just the issues they ran into in Season 5, when Murphy is shot by one of the Eligius prisoners after Clarke provides intel to them, but reaching all the way back to every sin Clarke has committed against him and Emori, whom he loves. Murphy reaches back to Clarke’s  willingness to force Emori into being a test subject in Season 4, stopping at the last minute when an attack of conscious hits her and her role in his Season 1 hanging (Clarke led the charge when she falsely accused Murphy of murdering Wells, riling up an already unstable crowd of teen delinquents), even as Bellamy steps in to take credit for the latter (“In fairness that was me.”). Murphy even goes so far as to label Clarke’s apparent disregard for the lives of others, he uses the word “disposable”.

Unfortunately for our girl, it’s not an unfair charge. Clarke has often been lauded for her ruthlessness, her willingness to do whatever it takes to save the people she claims as her own, no matter the cost to herself or others. It becomes a central piece of her character during the Season 2 finale when she takes on Dante Wallace’s advice of “bearing it so they (her people) don’t have to, although I hesitate to say that Clarke has ever actually born the weight of the choices that she’s made alone even if she feels she has. Although Clarke usually formulates the idea for the people-saving win each Season, an idea is nothing without implementation (usually handled by Monty or Raven) and execution (usually handled by Bellamy). Usually Clarke’s ruthlessness works in her favor, people are-seemingly-grateful for her ability to make the life or death choices, but in Season 5, Clarke’s “people” have boiled down to Madi and Madi alone after a Season spent ostracized by a combination of choice and force and thus, her actions to save Madi (at any and all costs) pit her directly against her friends-even as they were working to find a solution that saved everyone. It’s a bitter pill for them all to swallow and, although Clarke isn’t the only one who has betrayed people that she cares or will eventually come to care for, the others have had the opportunity to hash out their differences with each other because they’ve spent six years trapped together in space. What else was there for them to do? Now, it’s Clarke’s turn to face the music and it seems harsh and unrelenting because they’ve all ganged up on her at once, but their charges are not unfair and the open discussion of past hurts will hopefully be a catalyst for real development of relationships Clarke has not had the time to build since Season 1.

With all of that said, I still cheered when Clarke finally got fed up with Murphy’s barrage and accepted responsibility-however harshly-for her own failings. Eliza’s delivery of the line: “Is that what you want to hear? That I’m the bad guy? Fine, I’ll be the bad guy. When I’m in charge people die, isn’t that what you said?” is phenomenal. There’s so much anger in the line, but there’s also guilt and grief and pain. In this moment, Clarke is lashing out at everyone, not just Murphy but also Bellamy. Like Murphy she’s still upset about words spoken in anger years ago, back in Season 3 for us, but over 130 years ago in canon (even though for our characters, it’s been 6 years since that moment) and it’s telling that in this moment, where Bellamy is actively supporting Clarke and Murphy is on the attack, Clarke’s anger is reserved for Murphy’s words but her pain is reserved for Bellamy. Perhaps Bellamy’s words-years old-hold more weight for Clarke because her relationship to Bellamy has always been central to her journey and as such it’s harder to shake his truths off.

The argument is interrupted by banging and yelling overhead where Jackson and Miller are chained and Bellamy immediately prepares to head up and ensure everything is OK. Clarke isn’t going to let him go off by himself and after a quick key swap, our resident power couple is charging off to save the day, differences temporarily cast aside. When they rush up the stairs and finally get Jackson to open the door, we see Miller in the throes of a hallucination.I’d previously speculated that the dead bugs in the terrarium were meant to be used as an early warning system in the event of an eclipse,and Jackson confirms that thought process before saying that Miller, in checking out the terrarium had accidentally knocked it over and now believes himself to be infested with bugs. Miller doesn’t want to die like the Grounder Octavia experimented on with the worms in Season 5 and it initially seems as though Jackson is fine and just wants to be released to check on Miller, but as soon as he’s uncuffed it becomes evident that Jackson was caught in Miller’s hallucination from the get go. He finds a knife and makes quick work of stabbing into Miller to free him from the illusory bugs, but Bellamy and Clarke manage to subdue them.

There’s a brief pause and it’s fitting that Clarke is the one who realizes they “have no idea how to survive down here.”. She’s spent 6 years alone surviving in conditions less than favorable, have her small piece of safety destroyed, find a new haven and have it begin to destroy them immediately. They’re both mystified by the idea of joint hallucinations (which is a recognized phenomenon-called Folie a deux or shared psychosis) and, although showrunner Jason Rothenberg has stated the hallucinations are far less important than we believe them to (and I do believe this as we were saturated with psychosis from the first trailer and The 100 traditionally buries the lead), I would love the opportunity to see more episodes of shared psychosis.

Ironically, although Miller and Jackson have been tranquilized and are now out of commission, Bellamy and Clarke are now the bigger danger, both of them are uncuffed and we see Bellamy beginning to unravel as they return to the school room to find Murphy missing. Bellamy-having used his tranquilizer on Jackson-goes down to gather Echo’s in order to decommission Murphy, but Echo (probably wisely) refuses to open the door, instead injecting herself with the tranquilizer when the psychosis starts to sink in for her. This leaves Murphy on the run and our first glimpse of him is huddled on the roof of one of the buildings,clutching a gun and muttering to himself and it’s easy to believe that Murphy has also been affected by the psychosis, but Josephine’s book tells us that “ So few are safe” implying that some people are immune to the effects of the eclipse and I believe Murphy is one of them. Although Murphy has run, it makes sense that he would. Bellamy and Clarke have gone up to check on Miller and Jackson and all the others can hear is screaming and banging. Having been attacked by Emori under the effects of the psychosis and realizing it’s spreading with Bellamy and Clarke completely unchained, it’s logical that Murphy would free himself and hide to prevent being a sitting duck. He even goes so far as to shoot at Bellamy (and Clarke) when he realizes that Bellamy is trying to get into the room where Emori (and Echo) have been chained up, perhaps in a bid to protect her from Bellamy who is spiraling.

When Clarke realizes how out of control Bellamy is, she takes herself off, in an attempt to find another way to subdue him and winds up hearing Abby’s voice crackling through the radio. It’s evident from the beginning that this is the psychosis as we know the radios haven’t been working and there are specific events taking place in space that would prevent Abby from reaching out to Clarke. This is our first glimpse into Clarke’s mindset in quite a while, I’d wager we haven’t seen her this emotionally vulnerable since Season 3, and she breaks my heart. We know that Clarke has been struggling with the weight of her choices since killing Finn in Season 2 and that each additional act she commits only adds to the burden she carries, letting the bomb fall on Ton D.C., abandoning her people in Season 3, guilt related to Lexa’s death, guilt related to almost using Emori as a test subject, and so much more. All of this weight seems to erupt out of her at once, releasing a perhaps long pushed down belief that Clarke herself is the root of the problem, or in the voice of HallucAbby, the toxin. It’s striking to see how far gone Clarke is and when she holds the knife to her throat, even though I know her status as the lead keeps her safe, my heart still leapt into my throat. Luckily, Murphy comes upon her before she carries out the act and it seems that, just as Bellamy getting the insight from Madi into Clarke’s mental state during the six years she was virtually alone has helped him to reevaluate his feelings for Clarke, Murphy realizing that Clarke is hurting and lost and does carry guilt for her actions is what it takes for him to begin the walk down the road to forgiveness for her. I wouldn’t be surprised to see the two of them forge a deeper bond this Season based on their shared experiences with feeling worthless and unneeded (see Season 5 Murphy).

Because Clarke is only a danger to herself Murphy is successful in convincing her (appealing to her logic) to help him save Bellamy before he hurts himself or others. That turns out to be easier said than done. Bellamy is deep in psychosis by the time they manage to begin putting their plan into action and he’s a formidable foe, especially with Murphy already weakened by gunshot and stab wounds, and he’s determined to “keep us safe” even from Murphy. He deals handily with Murphy, almost drowning him before he hears Clarke-desperately fighting the hallucination as she tries to get to Murphy and Bellamy. It’s clear immediately that Bellamy sees Clarke as a threat while mired in his hallucination, stating “Here we go again. How many times have you tried to kill me now?”, before he advances on her. It’s such a turn from Bellamy’s previous behavior with regards to Clarke that it’s shocking. Since learning of Clarke’s radio calls he’s been kind and friendly to her, openly trying to make her feel more comfortable and a part of the group. If we’re to believe that the psychosis has something to do with inner demons (“Face Your Demons” and all that), it’s a hurtful moment when you realize that means Bellamy is not nearly as OK with Clarke’s actions as he’s tried to be, but it also makes sense.

I have a working theory that the psychosis is directly triggered by conversations that you might have had prior to the onset. Miller’s psychosis manifests as being infested with bugs and he expressed guilt in the premiere for the cruel acts he performed under Octavia’s command. Jackson’s psychosis is a byproduct of Miller’s which also fits with the conversation they’d had the previous day where Miller says that “I did things, you didn’t stop things.” This time Jackson is going to stop what’s happening. The trigger for Emori’s psychosis has thus far eluded me (if you can think of it let me know in the comments below!), but Echo’s is clearly brought on by Emori taunting her by calling her a “Good little spy,” who is “always following her master’s orders” as she is besieged by voices (that I assume to be Nia and perhaps Roan), telling her to “bring me her head” and “slit her throat”. The triggers for Bellamy and Clarke are some of the most interesting for me. I believe that Bellamy was triggered by Murphy’s use of the word “disposable” as it relates to how Clarke treats people. We hear Murphy recite Clarke’s crimes going back into Season 1 and it appears that that might have forced Bellamy’s mind to darker times.

Even though Bellamy and Clarke have had conversations about her seemingly dismissive treatment of him and logically Bellamy has even acknowledged that at times she’s had “no choice” that doesn’t mean that he’s actually fully thought out or processed the harm her actions have done him. In each Season there’s an instance we can pinpoint where Clarke has done something that would indicate that she might see Bellamy as disposable:

In Season 1, she closes the Dropship door on both him and Finn (Bellamy later acknowledges that she had no choice, but it might be something that’s still paining him).

In Season 2, she sends Bellamy into Mt. Weather after rejecting his “Inside Man” plan on the premise that he would get himself killed saying “It’s worth the risk”.

In Season 3, she apparently sides with the Grounders after they’ve arranged an attack that has left almost all of Farm Station dead and after Bellamy has just risked his life attempting to save her from Roan.

In Season 4, she holds a gun on him and even fires a warning shot after he decides he’s going to open the door for Octavia, consequences be damned.

In Season 5, she literally leaves him behind knowing that death is an option because Octavia has gone power mad.

In every Season, Clarke has shown Bellamy’s subconscious that she views him as disposable even if we as the audience understand that these actions cost Clarke a great deal. Because they’ve never actually had the time to really sit down and flesh out the actions (unlike the Space Squad with their six years in space) there’s a lot left unsaid between them. Bellamy is determined to separate himself from Clarke, even mentioning when the psychosis first began to sink it’s hooks into him that he “didn’t need her anymore”, which I believe is also a callback to Bellamy himself believing that he does need Clarke, which is strongly evident in 2 instance in Season 4, when Jaha tells Bellamy that he keeps Clarke centered to which Bellamy responds “You’ve got it backwards.” and when Clarke advises Bellamy he needs to be both head and heart and Bellamy says “I’ve got you for that.”. Bellamy has managed over the course of the past 6 years to lead with both his head and his heart, but it’s a burden to carry all of the leadership on his own and I believe that perhaps Bellamy saying “I don’t need you anymore.” is an expression of Bellamy’s own upset that he does still need her.

I believe Clarke’s psychosis was triggered by herself, which is perhaps why she’s only a danger by herself. In that speech I mentioned above where she states: “Fine, I’ll be the bad guy. When I’m in charge people die, isn’t that what you said?”, which aligns with her psychosis manifesting as a voice (her mother’s at that) telling her that she is the toxin, because Clarke had already accepted that herself earlier in the episode. It also makes sense that it’s Abby’s voice-not just because Abby as her mother is someone who we would expect to love Clarke no matter what, but also because the moment Clarke really delved into “Survival at all costs.” was in Season 2. Season 2 had two large scale instances of Clarke deciding that the few are worth the many, the first being when she, influenced by Lexa decides that it’s better to save themselves and allow the majority of the Grounder leadership to perish in the bombing of Ton D.C. (a moment which causes Abby to view her daughter in a horrified light-even if only momentarily) and when she suggest that the only way to save her people is to irradiate the others. It’s after this moment that Abby tells Clarke that “Maybe there aren’t any good guys” a moment reference directly by HallucAbby over the radio. If we are making Clarke delve deep into her treatment of people as “disposable”, Season 2 is a really good place for that. I hope that the exploration of the feelings everyone has for each other and-importantly-giving them all the opportunity to express them and work through them together continues. It’s been an aspect of the show that’s been vastly underdone until now.  (Heather over at TVSource also has some clever ideas about Clarke’s hallucinations-find them here: https://bit.ly/2HiCUk3)

Aboard Eligius III:

Our first moments with Eligius are spent watching Octavia and Niylah spar. Initially it appears they are just training, trying to pass the time now that they’re both awake, it quickly becomes something ugly when Octavia misses Niylah and rams her fist into the interior of the ship-although its obviously painful she keeps hammering into the object until her fist is raw and bloodied. It’s not even close to our first clue that Octavia is severely damaged, nor is it our first clue as to how Octavia deals with her damage, but we’ll return to this because that transport ship that was stolen in the premiere? Well it’s docking, and the four masked intruders immediately gas their welcoming party (Jordan, Octavia, Niylah and Abby), checking Octavia’s hand and realizing that these individuals are not Nightbloods. As descendants of the original Eligius mission to Alpha (also all Nightbloods-as we see when Russell attacks his family),they are familiar with what to expect of the Eligius crew and-although they don’t encounter them-they still proceed with an almost rehearsed ease to take the ship and head directly to the bridge.

They manage to corral almost all those who are awake on the ship into the cafeteria, perhaps not the best place for Octavia to be at the moment considering almost all of her former bunkermates hate her, and Abby realizes they have an advantage-Raven is somewhere out there and, because Raven is clever, she immediately wakes Charmaine Diyoza. Poor Diyoza is still pregnant (“She kicked!”) and honestly-I’m going to have an entire bottle of wine for her this coming Mother’s Day because, wow. The banter between Raven and Diyoza is a gift! Diyoza’s first line of the Season being “How bad is it?” is something that I’ll be chuckling about for the rest of the year. Ivana Millicevic is uniquely talented and she brings an instant excitement to every scene she’s in, no matter her scene partner. Raven questions her decision to wake the former leader of a terrorist group, but she’s also smart enough to know that she doesn’t just need her brains-she also needs a military strategist and Diyoza puts her smarts to work immediately, taking care of two of the intruders (who had thus far been using non lethal force) with a simple but effective ploy-luring them into the cryo bay and stealing one of their weapons. The initial plan works but their foe aren’t fools and realize quickly that something isn’t quite right.

Meanwhile, The Breakfast Club (this is what I’ve chosen to call our cafeteria group) is calmly having lunch (the fact that Monty kept the algae on tap is another clever invention of his and a quirky glimpse into Jordan’s childhood). Jordan is willing to provide Octavia with food but Abby says that “Serving Octavia is how we got into this mess.” which is an interesting way of ignoring her own culpability, as one of the most drastic things that happened under the bunker was the forced cannibalism-something Abby not only suggested to Octavia but also encouraged-because Kane had to survive, at all costs. Octavia is tired of waiting around and decides to kick her way out of the cafeteria-which clearly isn’t very effective and when Jordan points out why, she’s quick to snarl at him-insulting his father.

Thus far, Jordan has been played as a soft-spoken, gentle man, very reminiscent of his father, but the change in him when Octavia insulted his parentage was swift and I was immediately reminded that, while his father loved peace, Harper was his mother and I’m sure she taught her son some tricks. The way he slowly unfolds his body from the bench as he stands up is threatening and it’s exactly what Octavia wants. When Jordan chooses not to engage, she eggs on one of her former followers and he lashes out harshly, slamming Octavia into the stair rail. The others join in and Octavia is brutalized but she seems to be enjoying it. We find out soon enough why-Octavia hoped they’d kill her. It’s what she wanted (in that moment). Unable to die as a hero in Season 5, it appears that Octavia is still determined to die, but unable to do it herself. It’s clear that we’re supposed to begin to feel sympathy for Octavia in this moment. I’m unable to. Octavia has spent years on a downward spiral and was honestly at her best as a character when she was an unrepentant villain. There’s nothing appealing to me about a character who has committed atrocities for personal gain (of her own accord-simply to maintain power) only to lapse into a huge well of self pity when her plan doesn’t work out. Octavia needs to own what she did and begin to make apologies and work to be better or go away. Even as she craves the pain she’s decided is her punishment, she’s unable to inflict it on herself, forcing others to sink to her level in a depraved game of “You’re just as bad as I am.” It’s unsettling and sickening and not a plot line I am actively looking forward to.

Back on the bridge, Raven and Diyoza have managed to temporarily hold the bridge takers at bay by pretending that Raven is one of them. It’s a clear fakeout and they don’t buy it at all as Raven is smaller than the person who’d originally been in the suit. Just as things are getting tense, Madi makes a hell of an entrance, dropping from the ventilation system and shooting one of their would-be hostage takers. There’s an odd exchange here as Faye lays dying. She implores the older woman (who is perhaps her mother) to “take care of” the bodies. The response? “I know. I’ll take care of it.” It’s an interesting statement and one I believe ties into a theory I’m going to share with you all at the end of all this-so stay tuned for this. In the wake of Faye’s passing and severely outnumbered, the lone Sanctum resident surrenders and is forced to take a search party out to find the missing members of the Eligius group. Jordan’s face when they land is perfect-he’s a space baby, just like our original group in the pilot episode and the awe and wonder he expresses at his first sight of land is beautiful and heart wrenching. Our original group didn’t maintain that sweet innocence for long-let’s hope that Jordan gets the opportunity to. Octavia has snuck aboard the transport ship-once again imposing her presence on a group who had no desire for her, with Raven rounding out the group. Initially our Sanctum resident doesn’t want to go with the group-she’s unwilling to leave her family, claiming it’s “not safe for them”. Interesting comment considering they’re all dead now. What other threats can harm them now?

Another offhand comment is made as they walk towards the castle. “The trees have probably consumed your friends.” and I’m sorry but what? We know the plants emit toxins but they’re also eating people? I don’t have time for that. It’s not long before they come across Shaw’s grave and Raven’s reaction is so depressingly minimal. Although she initially tries to run to him, her single tear at seeing his grave is...it’s unfair. Raven has been so beaten down that she is apparently unable to do more than cry silently at the loss of one more person who she’d permitted herself to love and be loved by. She deserves a measure of real happiness.What does she have to do to find it?

Reunited and It Doesn’t Feel That Great...

It doesn’t take them long to reach the castle and the initial panic at finding Bellamy, Clarke and Murphy splayed out in the red dirt (Bellamy and Clarke with legs draped over each others almost forming a heart) is taken care of quickly. It takes a simple caress to wake both Bellamy and Clarke, and Bellamy’s face when he feels the pain in his leg from Clarke stabbing him and then realizes why she’d felt the need to do so-call 911 because my heart is breaking. Now we know that, after the psychosis is ended, you are still aware of what you’ve done. That means those affected will need to talk to each other and hopefully make amends for what they’ve done. Bellamy’s guilt quickly falls to the wayside however, as he notices Octavia there and his “What’s she doing here?” is a reminder to all and sundry that he has in no way forgiven her for her actions last Season and doesn’t seem close to doing so either. Murphy isn’t waking up, and his veins have gone black, perhaps this is the price you pay for being able to withstand the toxins? But before we can deal with that, Bellamy also catches sight of the mysterious newcomer, but before his query about her identity can be answered-a rush of children, climb the stairs towards the castle. They are initially disquieted by the new visitors to their world, but an older girl, Rose, asks a question that sends Clarke and the others reeling: “Are you here to take us home?” It looks like they’ve been waiting on Sanctum for the Earth to be habitable again-they’re going to be massively disappointed when they realize that’s a crapshot.

And now...a Theory:

You’ve already read my theory on what triggers the hallucinatory subject matter of the psychosis (and because it’s not meant to be a huge part of the Season, I won’t add on to it here), but I hinted at another theory-sparked in the first six minutes of the episode, and I am hoping that I’m right, because if I am, The 100 will have really pulled a game changer. Keep reading for what is potentially my favorite theory ever:

When Josephine first tries to get Gabriel to have sex with her, he brushes her off, stating that they have the embryos, clearly stating they don’t need to have sex for population efforts. As a geneticist it’s likely a part of his job to maintain and develop these embryos. We also have Josephine state that “he’s a bit obsessed with her” and Russell state that “he doesn’t need a broken hearted geneticist.” In that same scene Russell also chides Josephine for twirling her hair-the camera even zooms in on her doing it. Shortly thereafter, Russell succumbs to the effects of the toxin and-in a fit of possessiveness, begins murdering the other residents of Sanctum. Gabriel is one of the only ones we see get away. My theory is that, after the effects of the toxin have worn off and Russell comes back to himself-aware of what he’s done, he finds Gabriel and the two of them work together to recreate their massacred colony. I believe that-using genetic material taken from their dead colony members, they introduce it to the embryos, thus creating clones of a sort. I think that Gabriel does indeed develop an obsession for Josephine, if he didn’t have one already, and in his grief is determined to recreate her, down to the quirk of her hair twirling, and that he will keep trying until he succeeds.

I think this is supported by the title of the next episode “The Children of Gabriel” (points to Yana of TVFanatic for catching some hints about this-read more about that here: https://bit.ly/2Ye0gOw) and the label of “Primes” for the founding families of Sanctum. Human DNA is made up of two “primes”, we know DNA to be a double helix, but when unraveled they are two clearly distinct strands, both have distinct sides, one referred to as 3’ prime and the other referred to as 5’ prime. The fact that there is a bowl in front of a picture of the Lightbornes-in which blood has been dropped is another possible clue. Perhaps this blood belongs to the clones of the Lightborne and they perform the ritual of the blood drops as a way to pay homage to their successors. This would also explain how Josephine Ada Lightborne wrote the book Bellamy finds in the school room “Red Sun Rising” in after she’s already died, because she’s been cloned. I also believe this is why Faye’s last words are about recovering the bodies and why our Sanctum Guide is unwilling to leave her family initially-saying it’s not safe. They want to get the bodies back to the lab where the embryos are kept before the genetic material is unusable because they too are clones.

I hope that this is the direction they’re going in, because if it is? We’re talking about a fun and exciting twist that would really help me believe that this new Season actually is a new “book” for us to enjoy. This might have been my longest review ever, which says a lot about how exciting this episode was for me personally.

Random Observations:

Bellamy has a choking kink: He’s now choked the Mt. Weather guard, Echo, Murphy, Clarke, an Eligius crew member and more. It’s getting out of hand sir.

Echo felt forced this episode. It seemed like-because they’d removed her from the main equation early, they felt they needed to have her verbalize her concern for Bellamy by yelling. It came off...oddly.

I’m all the way here for a Murphy/Clarke friendship and I hope that’s what’s going to develop after their shared moments in this episode.

I need all the Jordan Jasper Green. He’s a delight.

Hopefully Diyoza is delivered of that baby sooner rather than later. It’s got to be exhausting being pregnant for over a century.

It’s interesting that Octavia was able to survive walking into the radiation field (and yes, I’m aware she was pulled back), but Zeke wasn’t. Qwhite interesting.

Madi isn’t too pleased about being stuck aboard the Eligius ship, I’m guessing she’s going to wind off sneaking away soon.

Just because Josephine only discovered 3 Orders of life in their first 21 days, doesn’t mean there aren’t more.

Love it or hate it? I’d love to know more-tell me all about it in the comments below.

The 100 airs Tuesdays at 9/8c on The CW.

April’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝.5

[apartmentbotanist]

Let your plant freak flag fly

I started seriously collecting plants back in 2017 when I was working full time in my apartment. At the time I was working on my laser cutting business and needless to say I soon found myself fairly lonely at home all day. I had the company of my two dogs, Zeus (Weimaraner) and Pachino (Shih Tzu), but I was still looking for a relaxing hobby to help calm my mind and refocus me.

Years before the start of Apartment Botanist, I always had an interest in plants, but I never understood them or the extent of their needs. I started first by making terrariums. At the time I was in college studying sculpture, and I was taking inspiration from nature. So, I use to gather up all types of succulents and cacti and put them in non-draining vessels and hoped for the best. Sometimes they would turn out ok. Other times I was dealing with a mealy bug infestation. Needless to say, I felt entirely out of my element. I started having less of a love relationship with my plants and more of a hate relationship. After the horrendous mealybug infestation, I actually stopped buying plants for almost over a year. I was so broken hearted over plants that didn't make it. I did collect pieces here and there, and they did slowly come back to life, alongside my confidence with plants.

Fast forward to 2017. I was spending a lot of time in the apartment on the computer sitting and working. I remember having a random thought, "Maybe I should look up the scientific names of all the plants I have in the house?" So there I started "googling" away. Eventually, I did find and properly identified all the names of my cacti and succulents. It was a true experience of the "plant blinders" coming off, and I started understanding what plants I had and what type of care they really needed.

That's when it hit me. "Wouldn't it be crazy to collect rare plants and keep them alive in my NYC apartment?!"

Apartment Botanist on Instagram was finally born in February 2017. I began a more intentional plant journey of discovering rare and hard to find plants and starting teaching myself what they needed to live. It started a balancing act of their needs and my environment, a balancing act I'm still performing to this day.

So much of the apartment has morphed into catering for the needs of my plants. Like my apartment, I've morphed too. When I first started, I remember being so shy, so afraid to ask or give advice. It took me a long time to understand that my opinion was unique and valuable. Caring for plants was giving me a sense of confidence I never knew I needed.

Now, here we are, present day. Apartment Botanist has grown leaps and bounds that, to be blunt, I would have never thought they would ever be brought to life. Yet, HERE. I. AM. Writing this blog, starting yet another new chapter in this plant journey. If anything has held true to this point, it's that I can't see what's coming next, but I'm excited about it. I hope it brings people and myself joy and a sense of pride to accomplish. I often think to myself, "what if I let the idea of starting a 'silly' plantstagram fester? And never let myself dive into my passion. What if I made the fear of being thought as, well, kind of weird or strange, keep me from doing something that brings me such relaxation and excitement." Well to that I say, whatever it is you want to do, go into it 100%, enjoy every second of it, and let that freak flag of yours fly!

_Alessia

[dreamscript]

sankofa | myg x reader x pjm

sankofa; // “se wo were fi na wosankofa a yenkyi”

You, Yoongi, Jimin, playing in the woods. The perfect three - until now. Now you’re childhood friends breaking apart, emotional rollercoasters, children feeling wronged. There’s something missing and you’re fighting against it.

     ➟ yoongi x reader x jimin

     ➟ slice of life au.

     ➟ 4.1k of angst with a restful ending          ↳ tw: suicide mention

Summer is something else. Yoongi and Jimin and you under the hazy sun, green forest grass prickly through the thin towels you lie on. Cicadas make their loud, buzzing, hissing sound, competing with the flitting birds and fleeting squirrels. In front of you the lake shimmers, its murky waters bright. Trees line the clearing, overwhelmingly green.

“Can we fish?” Yoongi asks. “I don’t want the worms to get gross from the heat.” He’d spent all last night digging them up, completely overturning a corner of Jimin’s backyard before giving up and plowing through his father’s garden.

“Sure,” you reply, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Jimin, you wanna join?”

No response. Jimin remains spread eagle on his towel, Gathering Blue opened upside down on his face. Sleeping.

“Jimin.” You poke him. When that elicits no response, you shove his shoulder, a bit harshly. The book tumbles off, exposing him to the bright sunlight.

“Nn-whaaat,” he mumbles, slinging an arm over his still-closed eyes.

“I asked if you wanted to fish with me and Yoongi.” To your left, Yoongi rolls his eyes, already stringing the fish rods and tying on the hooks. The worms in his plastic bug terrarium are limp and unmoving, save for one on top which wiggles weakly.

“Mmm,” Jimin mumbles.

“What was that?” you ask.

“We need an actual response from you, Jimin. Words,” Yoongi adds.

“I said sure,” Jimin says, still lying on his back. His speech is slurred.

“Then get up.”

“‘m lazy. ‘elp me.”

With a sigh and a groan, you roll your eyes and get on your knees, tugging at Jimin’s arms. They’re limp, just like the worms that Yoongi pierces through the hooks. You tug harder, enough to pull him up into a sitting position.

Slumped forwards, he rubs his eyes sleepily and looks up at you, wide eyes blinking open. They are brilliant, bright and evocative. And then he smiles, and it’s contagious. You smile and laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Yoongi gives one of his eyebrow raises and claps his hands sarcastically.

“Now let’s fish, losers,” Yoongi says, shoving the rods your way.

You guys end up catching nothing, but it’s fine since it was more about the camaraderie than the fish.

“It’s hot.”

“It’s ‘cause we’ve been sitting still in the sun for so long. I need to cool down.” Yoongi grabs his tank top and uses it to wipe the sweat from his face.

Jimin can’t swim, but he doesn’t mind it when you and Yoongi jump into the lake together and have fun without him, splashing water at each other and playing one-versus-one Marco Polo. He laughs uncontrollably when Yoongi blindly drives himself in a circle, arms flailing, as you artfully maneuver about him, out of range. When it gets too hot he lets his feet dangle in the water.

“You know Jimin,” Yoongi says, wiping his wet locks back, “Why don’t you try learning how to swim? I can teach you. My brother worked as a lifeguard last summer.”

Immediately, Jimin shakes his head. “Um, no I’m good, thanks.”

Yoongi gives him a look, puts a hand on his knee. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah Jimin, c’mon. You’ll be fine! And then you can swim in the water! Tha’d be so fun!” you encourage.

“No,” Jimin says. “I don’t wanna. It’s scary.”

“What, the water? You literally drink that stuff every day!”

“No,” he says. “Like, what if there’s something down there? Like a barracuda?”

“But there isn’t!” Yoongi says, somewhat frustrated.

“But how can you know? You can’t see what’s in there! For all I know, a barracuda could be down there, waiting for me to go deep enough to bite my legs off.”

“But there isn’t--”

Jimin refuses, vehemently shaking his head.

“Let it go, Yoongi,” you say. “It’s a fear he’s had since he was five. C’mon, let’s eat lunch.”

 The food is bagged sandwiches cut on the diagonal, slapped together the night before, the mayonnaise having soaked through and the slices soggy. Chips and PopTarts and Coke lie in the cooler, up for grabs.

“Man,” Jimin says, “I don’t want school to start.”

“We’ve still got a month and a half,” Yoongi replies through a mouthful of sandwich, “Don’t think about it just yet. Else you’ll spend the whole time worrying instead of enjoying.”

You nod vigorously in agreement.

 <<<>>> 

 “I miss summer already,” Yoongi grumbles, methodically picking the tomatoes from his sandwich. “I can’t wait to be done with the semester and be done with Ms. Scola.”

“She’s only strict because she’s preparing you for high school, Yoongi.”

Yoongi shoots Jimin a glare. “No, she’s being a--what’s it--bitch because that’s what she is!”

“Hey,” you say, flicking Yoongi on the forehead. “Language.”

He rolls his eyes. “Everyone in my grade uses those words now. It’s the cool thing to do. Only babies don’t curse. And plus, you’re not my mom.”

Through his mouthful of sandwich, Jimin mumbles, “Yah she ith, tha’th wha’ all the paren’th th’ay.”

“Whatever. Point is: I can’t wait for summer to come around again. I wanna fish some more… Oh, and Jimin, we gotta teach you to swim still!”

“Noo,” Jimin whines. “I’m scared. I don’t wanna.”

“Oh what, still scared of barracudas in the lake?” Yoongi pokes him teasingly. Jimin pouts and says nothing. “Okay, okay fine. Once the community finishes building that pool, we’ll take you there to play and stay in the shallow end, okay?” He gives him a smile. Jimin nods, tentatively.

“That’ll still be a while, though,” you say. “The board says it won’t be done until we’re in 8th grade, 9th for Yoongi. That’s an entire two years.”

 <<<>>> 

 The cafeteria table is empty. The table that you, Jimin, and Yoongi sat at every day. Empty. Usually one of them is there waiting. With a sigh, you sit down, set down your tray and begin to eat.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Yoongi come in, hanging with a few boys from your math class.

“Yoongi!” you shout, waving at him. The only acknowledgement you get is a flick of his eye in your direction. And then he looks away, mumbles something to his friends who point at you and continue on into the kitchen. You frown.

“Bit sensitive today, isn’t he? Maybe it’s an 8th-grader thing.”

You jump in your seat, whirl around. Jimin is sitting a foot away from you, a playful smile on his face.

“Jimin, fuck, you scared the shit out of me!” You hold your hand over your chest for good measure. “When’d you get here?”

He props one of his hands underneath his chin and tilts his face sideways, a sweet, lopsided smile on his face. “The same time you got here.”

 <<<>>> 

 Soft flakes of snow, gentle as falling feathers, land onto Jimin’s eyelashes. Yoongi peers into his eyes as he piles up snow and throws it into the air, watching the explosion of white until both him and Jimin have to close their eyes.

At their feet lay an intricate network of snow tunnels, just barely enough to slide through, the corners too tight for even you to turn. It is still four days of work’s worth.

Up ahead, you dangle from the deck, ready to jump onto the firm pile of snow below.

“Three! Two! One!” Jimin and Yoongi count down together, laughing. You jump and they catch you with their smiles, you landing firmly and giving them the thumbs up.

At noon sharp Yoongi helps Jimin crack eggs into mixing bowls and Jimin beats him in a game of who-can-mix-the-fastest. By one o’clock you’re messily spreading homemade buttercream onto the cakes with a butter knife and, ten minutes later, Yoongi is spreading it all over Jimin’s face with his hands, and Jimin has half of Yoongi’s face coated in crumbs.

White stars peek out from the holes of the sky when Yoongi walks Jimin home, side by side, sleds dragging in rhythm.

“We’ll both be back tomorrow,” they promise. “Tomorrow.”

 <<<>>> 

             You sigh, shake your head, and erase your answer for the hundredth time. School has been getting harder these days, teachers more strict, curriculum increasingly rigorous. Yoongi and Jimin used to always be there to help you, but this year Yoongi is taking another course, and Jimin…

            “C’mon, you can do it.” You look up from your paper and see Jimin, who is examining the problem. He looks up at you and smiles encouragingly. “You’re close,” he says. “You’re just making a stupid mistake.” To his left, his homework is already finished.

            “Or maybe I’m just stupid,” you mumble, glumly staring down at the smudged writing.

            “Don’t say that,” Jimin says. He reaches out and ruffles your hair. “I think you’re very smart. But every smart person makes mistakes. And that’s okay.”

            You pout and bite the end of your pencil. “That’s cute. But thanks for the support, Jimin.”

            He beams. “No problem. Anyways, keep working. I’ve got to go pee.”

            When he leaves, you look at your spider plant, chin resting heavily on one hand. “They’re all going away now, aren’t they? Jimin, Yoongi… They’re all drifting farther away from me.”

            The plant remains silent.

            “Each day I don’t think about it is a day I start to forget.”

(Jimin doesn’t come back.)

 <<<>>> 

             Three days into Yoongi’s no-contact streak, you’re assigned to work as project partners.

Both of you reluctantly, slowly, look at each other, awkwardly maintaining eye contact as if to establish the fact that no, it’s not like I want to partner up with you or anything, I’m only doing it because you’re asking and I’m nice so--

            “Alright, let’s just get this project over with.” Yoongi saunters up to your desk and pulls up a chair directly across from you. The project paper is on your desk and he leans over to study it, reading upside down and incredibly close.

Conversation for the most part is as normal, but pertinent only to the project. It’s during the last ten minutes of the class and a good time of normality that you finally get the courage to talk to him like, well normal. Non-project-related things.

“Hey Yoongi--”

He turns to look at you. “Yeah?” His gaze is intense.

“Did you want to go pick up some flowers with me?  Jimin--”

Immediately, he interjects. “Stop. Don’t talk about him. Don’t mention him around me.”

You fall silent. Then:

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

 <<<>>> 

             The sky is so saturated in reds and oranges and purples that sometimes it’s hard to tell where it stops and the ocean begins. Your silhouetted figures dance along the horizon, feet splashing across the lagoon, sending endless ripples into the sky.

            The very beauty of it all is so overwhelming that when Jimin lays down to rest, Yoongi takes the chance to pull you close and then drags you both further along the horizon, leaving Jimin to stare into the purpling sky alone.

            “Hey,” he says, smelling of sea salt and ocean air, “I need to tell you something.”

            “Hey,” you reply. “I need you to tell me something.”

           You shake your head. “I can’t, it would be mean to Jimin…”

            “He’ll get over it,” Yoongi says, almost rushing to meet you. “It’s probably just a phase, a middle-school sort of thing. C’mon, he’s already talked to me about it before.”

            “Yeah, and that didn’t seem to go so well for you two,” you retort. “Before you know it, he’s going to talk to me.”

            “Tell him to get over it,” Yoongi says. “It’s Jimin, after all. He’s always been our smiley, happy, best friend. And I don’t think anything in the world can change that.”

 <<<>>> 

 During the switch from lunch to your afternoon classes, Yoongi stops you. He grabs you by the arm, his hand hot on your skin.

“Hey,” he says, tugging you out of the crowd and into a relatively quiet hallway. You look up at him and, as if suddenly remembering something, he lets go. “Are you free after school today?”

“Um,” you say, confused. He hardly talks to you like normal anymore, refuses to even hear Jimin’s name from you, and now he’s asking if you’re free? “Sure, yeah.”

 <<<>>> 

             “What’s up?” Jimin asks, unzipping his lunch box. As per usual now, it’s just you two sitting at the lunch table now. Yoongi no longer comes by, as if repulsed by something. You’re guessing it’s probably you.

As if reading your thoughts, Jimin looks down at the table. “I’m sorry. I think Yoongi doesn’t come by anymore because of me. I don’t think he likes me.”

“No,” you say. “It’s because of me.”

“Oh come on,” Jimin says, taking out his sandwich. “You know I’m involved in it, too.”

You look at him, sipping your juice box. “Yeah. I know.”

Jimin is walking out of the door now, lunch gone. “I guess we’re not walking back to school together today? We used to always do that, you know. The three of us.”

“Yeah,” you reply, teeth hitting against the straw of your juice box. “We did.”

 <<<>>> 

 You and Yoongi remain in tense silence, you standing in the corner of the empty classroom corner, him leaning against a wall, arms crossed. He looks as if he is thinking about something he can’t quite put into words.

“I need to tell you something,” he says, slowly. He refuses to make eye contact and continues to stare straight ahead, out the window.

“Look Yoongi, if it’s about me and Jimin--”

“It’s fine,” he interjects, looking at you with stormy eyes, clearly hiding a stronger, negative feeling underneath. “I’m just learning to put it all behind me. I want to forget about it all.”

<<<>>>  

Yoongi refuses to even look at you anymore. It’s as if he’s a storm incoming, brewing angrily from afar. And you know why, now. You’d suspected it from the start. But you still refused to accept it, wanting to hold onto all of the traditions and happiness.

Where had all those good times gone, anyways? Somewhere far, distant. Somewhere you were starting to forget.

 <<<>>> 

             “So, how are you and Yoongi?” Jimin asks. “You two haven’t been getting along recently, it seems.”

            You clench your fist. “Don’t worry about it. It’s dumb.”

            “But I am worrying about it.” Jimin peers at you from the couch. It’s his favorite spot. “Tell me. Please?”

            “Fine.” You turn to him. “Yoongi’s mad at me. Indefinitely. That’s all.”

            “And why’s that?” Jimin is standing a few feet from you. You remain silent. “C’mon, tell me,” he prods.

            Yoongi? Why’s he mad at you? You remember the conversation and begin to feel your emotions building up.

            “Tell me,” Jimin repeats. He’s sitting at your kitchen table now, hands folded neatly on his lap.

“I don’t know why Yoongi is so mad at me!” you shout, frustrated. “Well no, actually I do know why, but it’s not my fault! And he thinks it is!”

Jimin looks up at you, his face is passive. “What is your fault?”

You turn and look at him, eyes narrowed. “Oh--you know, you know what happened, you know--and he thinks it’s all my fault! He won’t even let me bring you up, can’t stand it!”

“So whose fault is it?” Jimin asks.

You’re pacing now, anger growing. “I don’t know!” You throw your hands in the air, let them drop to your sides. “Just because we got into an argument before it happened doesn’t mean I’m the one at fault, no one’s dramatic enough to go and and do that after just one argument!” You look at him. “Right?”

“Then whose fault is it?” Jimin asks again.

“Not mine!” you cry out in frustration. You turn away from him. “Yoongi can’t blame it on me! He’s your best friend, he’s with you all the time, and plus, he also got in an argument with --”

“But I’m your best friend too.”

“I mean yeah - but like,” you say, beginning to cool down. “But like it’s different, you know, Yoongi is blaming it on me, when we both, you know, got into arguments and--”

“So whose fault is it?” Jimin asks again.

“It’s not my fault,” you reply, sounding more unsure. “It’s, it’s…”

You turn around, but Jimin is already gone. The cream colored curtains billow in the breeze coming from an open window.

“...our fault.”

 <<<>>> 

  “So.”

“So.”

“I’ve already had this talk with Yoongi before,” Jimin begins.

“Yeah, I know,” you interject. “He told me. That you talked with him.”

Jimin looks a bit broken. “Oh? So you already know, then?”

“Depends. What were you going to say?” you’re bracing yourself, continuously rethinking what Yoongi told you, it’s just a phase, there’s not a thing in the world that could possibly change Jimin forever. Nothing bad is really going to happen. That stuff just doesn’t happen to us.

“Well I, I,” Jimin stammers. He fidgets with his shirt. “I’ve just been feeling so - so - empty inside. Like, everyone feels like holograms and things just don’t make me all that happy anymore. I searched it up and, and I have depression. It’s a mental condition, you see? And my parents don’t really believe in it, like, my mom told me I don’t even have the guts to kill myself and my dad says I’m not that mentally bad.”

“Jimin, I’m really sorry to hear that,” you say, sounding more confused and flustered than sympathetic. “Are you sure it isn’t a phase, or something?”

“I’m sure. It’s not, it’s not! I’m telling you this because I need help, you see? I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.”

You give him a tentative smile. “Hey, Jimin, I know it’s been a stressful time for you, with school and everything. But I’m sure it’ll be fine; just go out, have fun. Destress. Do things that make you happy. Easy, you know? Just gotta be more optimistic… stop being so pessimistic about life, I guess. See the positive stuff.”

“Things don’t make me happy anymore. Positivity is a sham. No one understands,” he says, broken. “No one.” And then he takes off.

Gone.

 <<<>>> 

 Yoongi takes one look at you, turns around, and slams the door shut, but not before you wedge your foot in the door crack. He turns. You glare.

“We need to talk. About Jimin. Trying to just bury this all in the past isn’t going to work. Forgetting is not the right way of going about this.”

“For you, maybe,” Yoongi says. “Now leave. We’re not talking about this anymore.”

“No.” You stare him dead in the eye. “It’s not fair to Jimin, forgetting about him, about our friendship. So please. Let’s have this one last talk.”

 <<<>>> 

 Jimin doesn’t smile much anymore. In fact, he hardly smiles at all. You almost forget what it looks like. And then you forget that he is even there anymore.

He leaves a note, taped onto your window, on at 3 a.m. and gone by 4.

Maybe in my next life you’ll teach me to swim.

 <<<>>> 

 “Listen - Yoongi. I know it’s been hard on the both of us these past few months, ever since Jimin left us.”

In his room, Yoongi turns to look at you, seething. His eyes are full of pent-up rage, emotion, grief. He’s lost something, you’ve lost something, and you’re both feeling wronged.

“Stop,” he says lowly, eyes narrowed. “Stop talking as if you could understand.”

“And stop talking as if I couldn’t. He was my best friend too.”

“No, Shut UP!” Yoongi roars. “Shut up! Jimin is dead. You don’t understand how hard it is for me to live every day without him.” He closes his eyes, sucks in a huge breath. “I can’t think of a day I’ve gone without him.”

Yoongi takes in deep, shuddering breaths. “He killed himself. And it’s almost as if you don’t care at all about that sadness. It feels like you drove him to it.”

Unknown tears are streaming down your face but your voice is still clear. “And you? What do you think you did, huh? Nothing? You think that you’re completely innocent, don’t you? Must be nice getting to sit here and think that all the blame is on someone else!”

Yoongi grits his teeth.

“Well, wake up call, Yoongi,” you spit. “You’re in the wrong, too. We both know what happened to you and Jimin before he came to me, how you both ended in a split before going to the beach and I felt it, you know? I felt it so bad it was the only thing I could think about that entire trip. That beautiful sunset, the lagoon, I wanted to enjoy it all with you but instead I couldn’t. Because something was missing from my life and it was us. Our friendship. And don’t think I don’t remember what you told me then, either. Because I do. And I listened to you. I listened to you because I didn’t know what the fuck else to do, and now we’re here because we were too dumb and naive to think anything bad could happen to us.”

 <<<>>> 

 The forest is misty at 4 am. Grey, thick, clouds float through the trees like ghosts. You’re running, because something bad is going to happen, something. The only sound is your panting and footsteps stomping and bending the blades of dewy grass.

“Jimin!” You call, looking about wildly. “Jimin where are you?”

In the distance you hear a noise; you push your legs ever harder, sprinting through the fog. But you’re slow, as if running in a dream, mind moving faster than body, body moving faster than legs.

And then there is the lake. Bubbles, bubbles. Jimin’s shoes by the edge of the water, the pair you and Yoongi bought for him for his birthday, unlaced. Bubbles, still. You run faster. The bubbles are gone. You jump in, body immediately seizing from the cold.

You can’t see anything, so you blindly grope around, listening for the sound of another body. Jimin, he couldn’t be down here, he shouldn’t be. The boy who was too afraid to learn to swim because he was scared of barracudas and the murky mysteries that lurked underneath. The boy who always sat at the edge and never further.

“Jimin,” you try to say, bubbles spewing from your mouth. “Jimin, where are you?”

There is no response. You stay until your lungs burn and you have to resurface to get air. Jimin is gone.

<<<>>>

“I didn’t mean it--I valued him so much I didn’t think it was true, okay?” Yoongi wipes away at his reddened eyes, snot and tears smearing in a translucent mess.  “Anyways, what’s the point now? Huh? He’s gone. Every day I try to forget and put it all behind me so I can move on with my life. I think you should too.” He says the last sentence with conviction.

“No, I want you to remember--”

“And don’t you think it’s a little selfish of you? To make me want to do something that clearly hurts me so much?”

“Look, Yoongi,” you say. “I know. I fucking understand. And I’m fucking sorry. But listen up, you stubborn ass! Just forgetting your problems isn’t the way to go; any four-year old should know that! Just because you close your eyes doesn’t mean the milk isn’t spilled and the glass isn’t shattered. If anything, you gotta remember the happy moments and learn from the sad. Forgetting about things isn’t going to save your future friends and will only give you some semblance of happiness. Jimin was a huge part of your life--as he was in mine--so he was also a huge part of your happiness too and you can’t discount that.”

You and Yoongi are glaring into each other’s eyes, hands at each other’s collars, both taking in deep breaths.

“There’s nothing wrong with going back and remembering all the good times that we are both forgetting.”

 <<<>>> 

             Your reflections are distorted by the flowers--white lilies, Jimin’s favorite--that one by one you and Yoongi drop onto the lake. Side by side. Because even though he’s not actually there to wrap his arms around your shoulders, Jimin is still with you, with Yoongi, dropping the flowers right into the lake beside you as he peers into the murky waters he was so afraid of.

But it’s okay, he says. Because he has two best friends who are there to keep him company. And help him remember happiness.

 <<<>>> 

 sankofa; “se wo were fi na wosankofa a yenkyi”:

it is not taboo to go back and fetch what is at risk of being forgotten.

an: (its been 5ever ik my dudes) i wrote this for my long fiction for my writing sem and my professor never got around to reading it like she just put in our final grades for the semester without even looking at our final two portfolios lmao

[pastorcowboy]

Creation Command 7: In the Blood

Creation Command 7: The Earth is set-up for Blood

Genesis 1:20 And God said, “Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures.”

Have you noticed that throughout this whole study I have ignored the ending of each day? It says there was evening and morning. Jesus called himself the Alpha and omega. We know that is the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet. We also know that the definition of those terms is the first and the last respectively. Did you know that the Jewish day begins a 6pm? That it ends the next day (by our standards) at 6pm. I actually don’t think this was by accident. God began by separating the darkness. It begins to get dark at 6pm. What do we look forward to? It’s the daylight.

If we could have witnessed creation it might have looked like this. God created light, waters, land, plants, and then he set the heavens in motion as time begins. That is where the setting up of life began. It’s also where it’s finished. In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. That is done. The earth is complete within itself. God could have stopped there and created a terrarium. Yet, he is not done quite yet. There is still something more.

All of a sudden two things are different now. It’s all in the blood. Sea creatures have blood. Well, that is any of them that have a circulatory system. Some creatures have red blood and others have blue. All creatures need oxygen to survive. God is building something. I love the creation account because it has purpose. Everything we need to exist was being built one step at a time. In the Bible is this statement 2 Peter 3:8 “But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.” I think it’s pointing out that God does not need time to do what he wants. Yet, I believe time was needed to make creation work. Why make oceans first and fish second last? Was time needed to make the ocean habitable for sea creatures?

I will admit that I think creation was done in more than 6 days. Christians love to argue “our God is so powerful that he did it in 6 days.” Yet, they equally say God is patient. I suspect 2 Peter is a hint. It may have taken thousands of years to populate the earth. Setting up an ecosystem and shaping the land. Yet, to God (who is outside time) it was a day. I truly go down this road because of this creation account. It’s done in a certain order. This is thought out and calculated. I find it interesting that the oldest creatures alive today are sea creatures.

Jerimiah 23:24 “Can a man hide himself in secret places so that I cannot see him? declares the Lord. Do I not fill heaven and earth? declares the Lord.”

There are three places in creation to fill on this earth. The first is found in the oceans. God separated the waters and put sea creatures in the oceans below. Then it says that God created a dome, vault, or expanse and called it sky. Here in the seventh command of creation, God fills the sky with flying things. Next week we will see God create creatures to fill the land. This is technically picky but it does not say that God created the bugs. Are the bugs part of the creatures or flying birds? I have always thought that bugs are part of death. They eat our food and eat our dead bodies. Were bugs not a part of the original creation?

Again, the Bible story of creation is consistent. God tends to make something and then tweak it. He obviously made the earth then he tweaked it. He separated the waters and then filled the oceans and sky. The sky is filled with birds and lights. The heavens are filled with celestial beings like stars. Each piece of creation is commanded into being. Then later on a second command fills them. Although this is a very small account, it has tremendous purpose. Clearly each first command sat for a bit while he made the others. Then he methodically filled each one in the same order.

Blood animals need oxygen. It’s how circulatory creatures’ function. For writing so old it’s amazing how correct it is. A plant can’t exist before light. A sea creature can’t function before water. We now see God add living creatures and things are changing. God did separate the plants into various kinds. He gave them specific seeds to multiply. The earth is now ready of living creatures on land. We eat fish. We eat plants. In many ways this is a vegan paradise. What an amazing world it must have been. Next week God is going to make a change in his creating.

[tweakerwolf]

Ellen Ending 8

Ellen’s low sanity ending. I actually like this one, she seems really gentle here, it was a nice touch. Although I can’t help but wonder what would happen after that... does Ellen really just keep you without Jack finding out?? Hmmmmm.....

You can’t help but notice how starstruck she looks, it’s too much for you to bear. You want, need, to hear her side of it. So you walk forward and get her attention. At first she’s startled by your approach but you easily see recognition in her eyes, she knows you. She doesn’t waste time, realizing that you saw everything; you accuse her of sleeping with Jack (black heart). That surprises her, and she admits that things must’ve looked bad from your perspective but that it’s just a misunderstanding… -say nothing- because it’s like she trying to find a suitable lie. Ellen can tell you’re upset and she understands, so she won’t try to make excuses or anything (we’ll see about that). Ellen admits that she wants to be honest with you- that’s a start! She introduces herself as a grad student and reveals that Jack keeps a photo of you at his desk. You counter with the fact that Jack has mentioned her before although you can’t help the harsh tone out of your voice and she stiffens. You try to clear things up, saying that you know she’s a student of his and that Jack’s called her bright. At first she’s flattered but she realizes that she’s being insensitive by the look on your face. Ellen says that she wanted to get to know Jack better and you ask her for details about what she mentioned earlier, ‘being a part of something’- just how many people are involved?? Ellen pauses, her sentence cutting off as she realizes something. Her demeanor changes and suddenly she’s saying that she has something that belongs to you and your stomach drops. Has Jack been giving away your items? To his lovers? You don’t recall anything that’s missing but she’s already going on, talking about how she doesn’t feel right keeping the ‘gift’. You tell hear you’d like to have it back; a part of you doesn’t want it back but you also want to know what he gave away… Plus you still have the conversation with Jack to think about… You follow her to her car as she apologizes but you’re only half-listening anyways. As she opens her car door, something shiny falls to the ground; you reach down to grab it and she slams the car door into your head. You hit the ground and feel nauseous, your head is split open and bleeding. Then a hand tangles in your hair and is slamming your head into the car again. This time you lose consciousness.

When you wake up, your head hurts and you’re in a bright room. You try to cover your eyes because the light is making your headache worse but you can’t move your hands. The more you try to move, the more you realize that you can’t and something metallic presses into your skin as you wiggle around. It’s about that time that you realize you’re naked. Ellen suddenly comes into view and looks so relieved to see you awake; looking around, you guess that you’re probably in her bedroom. You realize that the metal pressing against you is in a grid pattern… you’re in a cage and your head is sticking out of a hole cut into the door. Ellen tells you that she was worried because you were unconscious for awhile. Instead of replying, you question just what the hell is going on- why are you naked? Ellen tells you not to get upset, she wants to finish the conversation from earlier but you were getting a little worked up, and you’re also naked because dogs don’t need clothes. You don’t understand what’s going on but you do realize that she lied to you. She counters that it was only a lie of omission and those hardly count. Besides Jack’s been lying to you the same way for a long time. She doesn’t clarify what she means by that though and instead admits that this was impulsive so she had to work in a hurry to contain you. Hence why you’re tied up and stuffed into an animal cage. Ask her “Ellen, why?” and she praises you for asking the important questions (purple heart). She wants to get closer to Dr. Buchanan and before you can say anything, she glares and tells you that you’re wrong- Jack hasn’t been having an affair. He hasn’t been giving your stuff away either. Jack hasn’t slept with any of his students. At first you aren’t sure you can really believe her- she has you locked in a cage… but relief washes over you anyways. Ellen spoils your relief by saying that Jack is doing something distasteful and she’s truly surprised that you haven’t found out. She guesses that he’s protecting you; she also thinks you’re the key to understanding Jack and she will figure out more about him. She just wants to understand.

Well, this isn’t the right way to understand anyone! That pisses her off when you say that and she asks if you’re an expert! You certainly understand Jack and all his secrets right? You hang your head and she pushes the point home, saying there’s a whole side to him that you know nothing about. But for some reason, you’re important to Jack- that’s what she wants to understand. By studying you and learning about your history, despite your cluelessness, she’ll get answers. And she threatens that she’ll get what she wants whether you cooperate or not. But then she just changes the subject- she has to finish grading! There will be more talking when she’s done with that. Before she sits down, she grabs something and sets it in a doggy bowl in front of your face. A muffin. When you look up at her, she just shrugged and says that dog food is expensive .Well if those are your options, -eat- the muffin because you don’t want dog food anyways. It’s slightly humiliating to have to eat out of a dog bowl and the cage hinders you, but you manage to get close enough. As you eat you realize that Ellen is stroking your hair but it’s alright because at least the muffin is good. She even calls you a good dog as you eat and she sounds very affectionate. (dark blue heart)

(squick scene below, bug mention)

Suddenly you feel something moving in your mouth and you glance at the bowl- there are maggots in the bowl! They were coming out of the muffin omg gross! You immediately retch and spit out the muffin in your mouth. You can feel them wiggling in your mouth as you gag no matter how much you spit. Ellen is confused as to why you suddenly coughed up your food, do you not like the muffin? Really, you shouldn’t be picky since your food options are limited. You do your best to stop gagging and you accuse her of putting maggots in the muffin. She looks at you with concern… you look down at the bowl and tell her to look- you can see them squirming around still! Ellen looks at the bowl, moving bits of muffin with her finger… she has no reaction to the little bugs. All she says is that she must have hit you too hard, like you’re suffering from a concussion or something. She dumps the bowl into the trash and rinsing it out before asking if you have a headache. You are certain that you saw them so she brings over the trash can so you can get a second look. Nothing in there but the muffin, no maggots. Ellen wonders if she should go a little easier on you, she doesn’t want you to break just yet. You start to question it because you don’t taste anything odd but you saw them and you felt them in your mouth! Ellen tells you to relax and sits at her desk to do her grading.

Since she’s busy and leaving you alone, take a moment to -look around- the room. The angle is a little strange for you but you can still see enough, her bed, her desk. Everything is pretty tidy, which is surprising for a college student… and it makes it hard for you to grasp who she really is, there’s no big clues on her walls. You spot a jar up on her desk, with something moving at the bottom… hmmm -ask about the jar- because what does she have in there?! She glances at you impatiently and you gesture towards the jar with your chin. Crickets she tells you, she keeps crickets. At first you think she’s joking but you study to jar and now you can see how there’s more than one thing moving in there and how their small legs are tapping at the glass. She must not love them very much because it’s kinda rude to keep them in a jar and not a terrarium… but you don’t say that. Instead you just ask why she has them and all she says back is that everyone needs hobbies. Hmmm. You don’t say anything else and let Ellen get back to her grading.

Eventually Ellen starts muttering to herself, freaking out a bit. As she starts to pace the room, call out her name, hoping to calm her down. You don’t know much about her but it doesn’t seem good for you if she’s in a bad mood. Ellen says that she emailed Jack and made up an excuse for why she can’t meet with him and she can thinks he’s pissed. Your surprise gets the better of you, ask, “You cancelled on him?” and she admits that she panicked (light blue heart). She isn’t good at lying and he’s really good at reading people so if he asks about you, she’s screwed… She realizes that she never should’ve taken you and you seize the opportunity to say that she still has time to let you go. Ellen isn’t stupid though, she can’t trust that you won’t go to the cops or even tell Jack about where you really were. She says that she can deal with this all but first she needs your help to calm down.

(squick scene below, bug mention)

She turns to her desk and you can hear a familiar chirping noise… Ellen tells you that she isn’t a sadist or anything but seeing other people suffer makes her feel better. As she turns around to face you, you see that she’s holding one of her crickets with a pair of tweezers (is this really what she does with them??). She steps closer to you and tells you to be a good dog and stay still. As she crouches down, one hand comes up and pins your head to the floor. You squirm as she lowers the cricket to your face and you demand to know what she’s doing. Ellen actually pauses and tells you; she’s going to ask a few simple questions and she just wants you to answer honestly. Oh, and she’s going to put the cricket in your ear to help you along. You tell her not to, you’re uncomfortable with the thought of that. She just strokes your hair and tells you that the human mind is incredible and it can adapt to the most horrendous situation. Then the cricket is pressed against your cheek… it’s still alive, you can feel it moving. Ellen admits that she wants to ask you about Dr. Buchanan. As she slides the cricket closer to your ear she asks if you’re sexually intimate with each other. You aren’t comfortable answering her and you’re wondering what the ‘right’ answer might even be… but she takes the silence as an embarrassed yes and asks you how it is. Do you lead or just let him take control of everything? Then she asks if you can feel the maggots inside you or if he cleans himself off before he gets to you. Does he even enjoy the sex with you? Maybe it’s brief and lacks passion? Then she makes a comment that stands out, asking if you can see the marriage unraveling because he’s found something he likes to fuck more. You think that she’s just trying to get a reaction out of you, she hasn’t even given you time to answer. Besides, Jack isn’t like that, he wouldn’t find someone else just because the sex may or may not be the best. Ellen waits a moment but then slowly slides the cricket into your ear and you can feel its legs as it tries to stop itself. That’s when you lose it and start to struggle. Ellen pins you down with a knee, telling you to stay, like a good dog. You know she means business… The cricket gets pushed in deeper and it starts to struggle even more, trying to get free of the tweezers. You can hear and feel the buzzing inside your head as it moves around, it’s unbearably loud. It’s so loud that you don’t even hear Ellen for a moment but apparently she’s trying to talk to you. Then you realize that she’s squirming around, her hips moving just a bit. Since she still has her knee on your neck, you can see up her skirt… you start to question if she’s getting off on the whole thing because she’s breathing a little wonky. Ellen tells you that she doesn’t want to ask questions, now she just wants to talk and she wants you to listen. She admits that she fantasizes about Jack and as she says that, her hand trembles and the cricket harshly rubs against your ear canal. Ellen mentions that she knows he’s married and everything but she can’t help but think about Jack holding her down like this. The chirping in your ear gets louder and more painful. Do your best to -stay still- and let her do what she wants. It’s extremely unpleasant but you really don’t want to do anything to upset her. The cricket continues to move inside your ear but you stay as still as possible. She’s surprised at your self control and you’re surprised at the praise. Ellen says that she thought you were a little impulsive but it took a long time before you finally got desperate enough to follow Jack. You tell her that Jack’s entitled to his secrets. She goes quiet but pulls the cricket out of your ear; she’s starting to feel like she’s starting to understand. The cricket is still in the tweezers and she takes it back over to the desk. You breathe a sigh of relief, that ordeal is finally over.

Now that she’s all calmed down, Ellen leaves the room to go and make dinner, you can hear the food sizzling. The smell is making you hungry but you -don’t ask- for food because you can’t trust her, period. She’s making food for herself but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have food set aside for you to make you sick. She comes back into the room and eats her dinner before turning off the lights and getting ready for bed.  Before climbing into bed with a textbook, she tells you to get some rest, saying that you’ll need it. The thought makes you nervous but as you watch her studying, you can’t help but notice how she looks a lot like Jack… in her own little world. You settle down in the cage and do your best to get some sleep. An indeterminate amount of time later, Jack caresses you, rousing you from your sleep. You groan and tell him to leave you be but all you get in reply is a feminine giggle. You open your eyes and see Ellen, she was the one touching you. A bunch of things pop into your head at once- you’re not at home, someone has kidnapped you, and you can move again… kinda. You’re at least not trapped in the cage anymore. She managed to drag you out of it without waking you and now you’re on a pile of blankets. Ellen starts to apologize for flying off the handle the other day but after getting some rest, she’s ready to try things again. All you need to do is cooperate with her so she doesn’t get mad, because today is going to happen, there’s no getting out of it. And to start off the day, she’s giving you breakfast- another muffin in your dog bowl. You didn’t eat dinner so -eat- the muffin… she wanted you to cooperate and she did say it’s a new day… You take a small bite and eye the muffin, just to make sure there aren’t any maggots. Encouraged, you take a few big bites, enjoying the muffin. But suddenly there’s a sharp pain in your mouth, something sliced open your tongue. Then it’s moving towards the back of your throat and your mouth starts to fill with blood. Ellen asks what’s wrong as you start to heave, trying to breathe around the blood (green heart). You cough and feel sharp metal objects all over your mouth; you try to dislodge some with your tongue. When you spit into the bowl there is blood and razor blades. Ellen sees the blood and gasps, commenting that you’re sick. She’s trying to pretend that everything will be okay but you aren’t falling for her shit this time, it’s real, you know it is. You ask her why, not giving her a chance to deny that they are real. What had you done this time to warrant such a dangerous trick?! She just continues to pet you and comments that you’re such a trusting dog; Ellen kisses you on the cheek and comments that Jack probably likes how trusting you are. Next she leaves the room to clean out the bloody dog bowl. Everything hurts but now you’re certain that you didn’t hallucinate the maggots from yesterday. The bitch was just messing with you on purpose, trying to rile you up and confuse you. She was Jack’s student, it doesn’t surprise you that she’d use such tricks to break someone.

The next thing she says is that she wants you to stay still for her and then she’s pinning you down so she can inject you with something. You ask what was in the needle and she says that she nabbed it from Jack’s office, a paralytic that he was going to use on you. You don’t know what she means and she gets pissed at how dense you are… she lays it all on the table- Jack has been fucking corpses. That… that’s awful… is it true? Before you can say anything, Ellen explains that he’s also killing people, that’s how he keeps his supply fresh. Obviously. As she continues to explain, you feel your body go numb and eventually she notices that you aren’t struggling anymore. Ellen tells you that you have to accept the truth because she needs your help in understanding. You ask her why she’d want to understand him, if he does something so horrendous. Ellen is just surprised that you aren’t more curious. She moves you around as she please, taking one of your hands in hers after grabbing a knife. She presses it against your palm, asking if you love him. You tell her of course but things are getting tense, you notice the hysterical tone in her voice now… She suddenly stabs your hand… probably not believing what you said; you scream as the knife hits the bones in your hand. Apparently Jack emailed her again… he said to stop contacting him and that she should even transfer to another university. So this is her last chance, you have to give her something useful that she can use to win over Jack! When she moves the knife towards one of your fingers, tell her “This isn’t going to help you understand him” and she actually hesitates. Ellen admits that you’re right and she had been hoping to slowly antagonize you, get inside your head… but she doesn’t have time for that- she needs answers now. You obviously don’t know enough to help her and she needs Jack to accept her… 

She brightens suddenly, running out of the room and into the kitchen. That’s probably not good for you…You hear her banging around, looking for something… and you’re scared of what she might find. When she comes back, she’s got a very large kitchen knife in her hand… apparently the small one wasn’t dangerous enough. She brings up an interesting topic, out of the blue- Jack has apparently talked to Ellen about murder… even encouraged her to try. She admits that she’d never done it before but he encouraged her because the only way to understand something is to do it for yourself. If she wants to understand Jack, she has to do what he does… she’s going to kill you and then have sexy times with your body. Joy! (zero sanity)

Ending 8: A shiver runs down your spine and you start to cry… you don’t want any of this, you want it to stop- why is she hurting you?! Ellen immediately backs off, giving you space and watching you. You’re sobbing and shaking but you still call out her name, because she’s the only one around to even attempt to comfort you. She steps up immediately, shushing you and telling you not to cry, being gentle with you. Carefully she wraps her arms around you, stroking your hair, saying that it’ll be okay. She realizes that she pushed you to the edge and that you can’t take any more. You don’t say anything, just snuggle against her because she’s warm and it’s nice to be held. Eventually you calm down a bit as she continues to pet you; she even asks if you like it. You nod your head, it’s nice when she runs her hands through your hair- you want her to like you because you want her to be nice to you. Like a good dog. Ellen is ecstatic and focuses on you, mentioning a collar. You smile because she’s happy. Survived- Ellen likes petting you.