#it dose make it easier to instantly post things

[lerildeal]

wow Ace attorney doodles two days in a row?

yes 😔

I finished the first case of the second game and boy it was surprisingly queer

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter thirteen)

Gone with one issue on to the next, post haste! It was like this year was pelting him with problem after problem. Of course, a quantum destination would be the next space on his bingo card of disasters! Why wouldn’t it be?! If there’s one thing the universe would never give him it was a break. That nap was a curse! He made up for too much of the sleep he’d lost back home. Now, there was karma to pay for those extra few hours of sleep. 

Granted, he felt better than yesterday, but was it worth the quantum detonation? Temptation says yes but logical thinking says no. Logical thinking also said nothing he could’ve done would’ve prevented the damage to the drive core. It would have already started to degrade from seawater pouring in before he even got there. It was nice to know this one thing wasn’t his fault, but it wouldn’t soothe the anxiety of knowing the Aurora was going to explode.

The damage a drive core from a ship the Aurora’s size could cause would be catastrophic. The radiation alone was a planet-ending event. Could he prevent this with his limited access to his powers? There were no blueprints for a radiation suit in his PDA and he doubts he could make one himself. Building what was essentially a hazmat divesuit strong enough to protect him from the lethal doses of radiation the aurora was dishing out wasn’t the same as building a table. Did he still have any kind of immunity to radiation? 

Regardless, he’s a Fenton! He got irradiated for breakfast! 

Swimming back to his base, Danny began pilfering through his storage. If he’s even going to try attempting to stop a quantum detonation, a seamoth would be helpful. Not only did it sound cool as hell, it’d make traversing through the waters a piece of cake! Only… The blueprints wasn’t there and data corruption was to blame. Cursing, Danny collapsed to the floor, scrolling desperately through all the blueprints over and over again. He’d regained the blueprint for the mobile vehicle bay, but there was no amount of tampering that’d give him the Seamoth. The mobile vehicle bay was useless without a vehicle! 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Danny decided this was the perfect time to check the radio. Any information concerning the rendevuos would be a life saver!

Swimming back to his pod, a cloud of rot spilled into the ocean. The foul odor of the remaining goo assaulted his nostrils. Nausea bubbled in his stomach, bile crawling up his throat. He crawled back into the pod. They say the smell of human decomposition was one the human body was hardwired to recognize and Danny could now say with confidence that rotting halfa was the same. Even if he’d been completely unaware of the lifepod’s contents the smell alone sent a shiver down his spine. It was easier to dissociate the pile of goo on the floor before it’d decomposed to this extent. Dried blood stained the floor any green that’d been there was gone without a trace.

This…This would be a gruesome site for whoever was going to collect the life pods after this was over. It’s a difficult scene for him to see for ancient's sake! It was funny to think that despite the horrid smell and blood, he’d rather have found something like this in Lifepod 3. Bodies, or at least more than a PDA entry to prove someone was here! He’d perfer finding blood and rot than have the dead be forgotten so easily. They’d died within the meager three hours Danny had been unconscious, and been torn into by local wildlife until nothing remained before anyone could respond to their distress signal.

Tearing his eyes away from the puddle, Danny sucked in a deep breath, regretting it instantly as putrid air filled his lungs. His PDA screamed, biohazard warnings taking over the screen, begging him to leave. With a shake of his head, Danny covered his nose with his hand toddling towards the radio. The device was flashing and Danny couldn’t hit a play button harder than he had today. 

“Playing pre-recorded distress call…” Waiting on his tippy toes Danny stared at the device with hope-filled eyes as a human voice sounded through the pod.

“This is Ozzy from the cafeteria. What the hell guys?! They didn’t warn us this might happen!” Danny’s heart sank as the message continued.

“Our pod was almost crushed by the seamoth bay on the way down, now we’re hanging on the edge of a cave system and this grim-looking snake thing’s trying to eat through the hull! Come get us already!” 

Saying that didn’t sound good would’ve been an understatement. How many hours had it been since this message was sent? A grim-looking snake thing? He has someone like that outside. Chances were they weren’t talking about the same snake thing.

 Dami has a snake-like body, but he resembles more of a dragon or a sea serpent…Dami hadn’t even made an attempt to hurt Danny or his little base. Sure, he scratched the glass but Danny had a feeling those claws were capable of much worse. Trust was a strong word to use when talking about a giant sea monster but Danny was confident Dami wouldn’t freak out and try to kill him for no reason.

All he’d done since seeing him was give reason after reason to kill him! Honestly, Dami just seems confused by his existence, but to be fair Danny is too. Logically he should be permanently dead, erased from every plane of existence but something gave him a third chance at life. Now he’s everyone’s problem!

Updating the signal to his PDA Danny crawled back out the lifepod, a signal to follow and materials to gather.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

[boreal-sea]

Hi!! I don't mean to be rude or rub anything in, but you may want to talk to your doctor about the amount of T you're on - I know you said it doesn't make you taller or make you have a big beard and big muscles, but I was on it for a year and it gave me the hairiest of bodies and a full beard + the voice drop, I just had to increase my dosage and check some blood work to make sure I was on a good path.

The muscle part has to come from actively working out, though, which I cannot due to disability right now, so I get that - they told me it was sort of a thing you had to keep up with because it'll convert more easily to fat if you don't do much exercise, but you can absolutely harness it if you want to.

And sometimes it does take more than just a few months, it did for me, I'm on nearly two years and I have yet to see any sort of bottom growth as well and had to adjust to get these big changes, too. I'm not saying it will be a cure-all kinda fix, but I'd definitely get your blood levels checked and talk about how much T you can be on and handle well, its never the same from person to person!

Don't give up hope, I'm still adjusting mine as well! from another enby.

Hi!

So, I know you are sending this in good faith out of concern and a desire to help, but I promise you that I am and not feeling hopeless/losing hope; I am in fact extremely happy and satisfied with how my transition is going!

I am taking a moderate dose of T and my T levels are within those for an adult male of my age. I am experiencing body hair growth, facial hair growth, bottom growth, and voice drop!

The post I made was not about expressing hopelessness; it was intended to directly refute the claims made by some people that an estrogen puberty does "nothing" to change a body, and to refute the claims that trans men take T and it "instantly" changes us from women to men, we all totally pass with no effort, and we have it sooo much easier than trans women.

[vergess]

this is a personal af question that you do not need to answer publicly or at all esp. bc its for fanficish writing purposes but anyway so like how DO you, personally at least, deal with episodes of psychosis? because google tells me that the go to needs to be antipsychotics but 1. the context is a character who does not have regular access to them anyway 2. every one i have looked at has GOD AWFUL PERMANENT SIDE EFFECTS that seem to be almost guaranteed to happen? and my doctor oc would not subject that to anybody. the usual psychosis symptoms i write in my current rps are post-ictal and postpartum psychosis specifically because getting information about that from people who actually HAVE THE CONDITIONS is easy, and there seem to be other methods of dealing with them without antipsychotics (plus, you know, magic dnd for one, and pokemon psychic bs for the other) but finding information on how people with other forms of psychosis (in this case, schizotypal ftr) deal with it from their own perspective is almost impossible? it's ALL ableist bullshit from doctors which is why i am hesitant to trust the idea of "antipsychotics are the only way" :/ even reddit is not helpful here lol and i want to get this right? i know it's just tumblr rp/ao3 fanfic/discord rp that nobody important will read but me and my friends are trying to NOT be ableist shitbags on purpose you know?

Boy I really just don't answer tough asks over the winter months, huh.

I started keeping a closer eye on how media that I otherwise recommend depicts psychosis since getting this ask, and I'm disappointed to announce that over the last two months only two (2) pieces of media have been Normal About Psychosis.

So, the first thing to remember when writing a Psycho is: WE ARE WHOLE ASS ADULTS WITH ADULT BRAINS OKAY, we're not small children lost in a fantasy. We're not violent monsters out for blood. We are people who sometimes see, hear, etc things that aren't really there.

Writing a psychotic character competently isn't about curing them, or even about reducing their symptoms. It's about showing how they cope with those symptoms while carrying on with their daily lives.

I'm currently on the lowest possible dose of antipsychotic right now, and I will say two things about that. 1) the meds make reality checks and other coping skills MUCH more effective. 2) Even at a low dose, abstract and creative thinking are hindered. I don't feel hindered; but I have a 24 year long writing portfolio that says I sure as shit am hindered.

Whether a character will benefit from going on meds is going to be a balancing act. But since you aren't actually looking for meds advice, lets talk about those Other Coping Skills.

Broadly, I would split my skills into three categories: stuff for hallucinations, stuff for delusions, and stuff for dissociation.

So, first off, reality checking is my #1 go to for hallucinations.

You pick this skill up pretty quickly as a kid; everyone does. The difference being that where a non-psychotic person eventually gets to stop relying on others to tell them what is real, we get to keep on asking forever.

It's actually super exhausting to be in a crowded space because most of the nonverbal cues you come to rely on (eg, no one else flinched so that noise probably wasn't real) become INSTANTLY useless. Every noise, movement etc may of may not be real, and your only option is to either gauge other people's lack of reaction, or ask someone you trust for a reality check.

Sounds like an easy way for an abusive shit to control your entire life with no effort? It is!!

THAT'S WHY PSYCHOTIC PEOPLE ARE WAY MORE LIKELY TO BE ABUSED THAN THE GENERAL POPULATION.

Once you know if something is real or not, you can decide to ignore it. Like ignoring anything obtrusive, this is easier if you are in a good mood, physically comfortable, etc. An absurd amount of "coping with psychosis" is just constantly monitoring yourself and others to make sure you are reacting to the right things at the right volume.

Ignoring something that your brain insists is real and a threat is very tiring, so there's also a lot of sleeping.

Delusions are significantly harder to manage than hallucinations, IMO. Not just because, as a multiply marginalized person there are myriad ways that an ambiguous "them" is actually trying to ruin my life for real. Being on terror watchlists due to racism REALLY makes it IMPOSSIBLE to manage my paranoid delusions because some of the more insane shit is just real.

But there are other delusions that are easier to handle. Mostly, this comes down to self monitoring again. I can take an extra second to ask myself, "hang on, statistically speaking, how likely is it that this total stranger ACTUALLY wants to kill me?" The answer, of course, is "violent crime has been trending down for years, and everyone in this area thinks I'm white as long as I don't go outside during the summer, so I'm safe."

It's all about finding the information that helps keep you calm.

Because the absolute certainty that this is a murderer and you are walking into the slaughter will not go away. You just... take it on faith that this time will turn out as safely as the last 399 times.

It's just a shitload of observation, mimicry, and forcing myself to do things that feel dangerous by reminding myself that they aren't.

That shit sounds simple, but it's a CONSTANT fight; it never really gets easier, you just get used to it.

Which brings me back around to my meds again: I think I prefer it this way. My writing sucks, and I keep crying when I read it because it's wrong, it sounds like a field amputation. But god, I went to a cafe during the morning rush a few days ago, and the overload of noise and data only left me bedridden for ONE day. ONE!!! Not a WEEK!

Maybe losing my only art is okay in light of how much less bad things are.

Anyway, I can't remember the name of the 2014 short story about the One Person With Psychosis being wrongfully shunned by her colony because she doesn't feel affective empathy, in spite of her constant and perfectly reasoned moral code ensuring she is, if anything, the least dangerous person in town. I wish I could remember it!! It's a good example!!!

I haven't read it yet, but people I love and trust seem to generally agree that the psychosis in Harrow the Ninth is well written, too, so maybe check that out IDK

[pandoramusicbox]

Day two.. lesssts gooo…

So yesterday after making my post on time and calandre stuff I went in and started writing and thinking about drugs and mushrooms and potions. All the good elicit substances. (And the non elicit too) so I think I want to chat a little about that for a second. Specifically I want to explore potions.

Potions are substances (usually liquid, but sometimes a salv, mash or slime) that have some kind of effect. There are three main kinds of uses for potions.

Medicinal, Magical and Morphic.

These are found all over and there are many regional and recipe differences but the idea of them being potions is all the same. Some potions, due to ingredients or environmental factors can only be brewed in certain regions.

Notably though, many potions are ingested or drunk, not all potions should be ingested (some are poisons) and other potions are created to not be put on a body but on objects or other things.

What the types do;

Medical- what you might expect, a variety of potions made to treat a variety of ailments. Some are magical in nature but some are not. Though there is no thing as what we would think of as a “healing potion” there are wound sealing potions (that should absolutely not be consumed they go on your skin) and potions that numb pain enough to where you can keep going for a while (different ones are used for chronic pain). But nothing that instantly heals you of all that ails’ ye.

Magical- there’s three kind of potions in this category of concern, though they also have a fair bit of overlap, first is potions made with magical ingredients, the second is potions that require magic to be infused into them before or during use, the third are potions that are made to mimic a certain magical effect, this third one dose have a noticeable shelf life, and tends to become inert or defect if left too sit for too long. A lot of medicinal and morphic potions tend to have some kind magic too them, often of the magical ingredient variety.

Morphic- came about a lot later than medical and magical potions. They where originally made unintentionally and where considered defective. Later on when vampires got ahold of them did the market and variety for Morphic potions explode. Like the name suggests Morphic potions change the nature of things. For vampires it allowed them to expand and heighten their natural shapeshifting abilities. For humans it allowed them to mimic the shapeshifting capabilities of vampires and such. It was also used to try and cure werewolves of thier condition. Most Morphic potions do not have permanent effects, but certain potions taken in multiple doses do have permanent effect.

— yes there are affective Morphic potions that allow people to transition from one sex to another or to something in between, I’ve drawn them before so they exist. In other words, transitioning is affordable and easier.

Potions are used to different degrees all around the central hemisphere, they are popular for health, combat, and recitation.

In the current era circus attempted to collect a “true bible” of potion recipes, the ultimate cook book.

By the modern era they at least managed to standardize the most common kind of potion colors so that It’s easier to identify what you are taking. They also have a set of standardized measurements and common ingredients for popular potions, though plenty of pharmacy families still use their own.

(Note: apothecaries tend to act as general health care and rely on herbs, teas, and pills along with physical treatments for their patients, pharmacists deal with potions and a surprising amount of non medical body stuff. That’s different from our world so I thought I might mention it)

[transitjournal]

50 Days HRT Update 🔥

No, HRT will not make you turn to a cute anime girl instantly but it will surely do you these things.

Estradiol Hemihydrate 2mg/ Cyproterone Acetate 50mg

First of all, thank you all for your support and interest on my blog. It's what keeps me going.  💕

I used to take DIY HRT with different medications 2 years ago, with spiro and E2 valerate from January 26 2020 to late July 2020. Those doses were pretty low, at least considering from my point. And after I had to stop those meds, all my changes are rolled back, except some very very little breast growth. Now that I'm seeing doctors since October 2021, since HRT is gatekeeped in my country. Thankfully, I finally got them in July 25, officially got a prescription and had my legit cocktail! Now, of course I'm done with talking, let's move to the changes :)

Physical Changes

My skin is much more thinner and more translucent, and I'm more prone to bruises or tear even by slight contact with something. I feel that I have less tolerance for cold, that I now have to run my air conditioning in higher degrees. IDK what will happen in wintertime though! I've noticed my penis is also getting slightly smaller, as well as my testicles, since there's no T supplying those tissues anymore. No longer have to deal with morning wood or random erections, and this makes me so happy! I've noticed tucking is slightly easier because I can't get erections easily, and probably because of my testicular atrophy. I have small breast buds developing much faster compared to my old cocktail in 2020, (check my old posts if you'd like to get to know more about) the sad thing is since I'm taking single estradiol pill a day, fluctiations of estrogen affects my breast tissue. Sometimes it's like it's not there at all, and sometimes it's noticeably there (like a preteen girl's breasts, to compare).

My facial hair is slightly thinner, but it's still there and I have to shave everyday. The thing I didn't expected is, the growth pace of my facial hair is slowed considerably. Considering laser hair removal in future months, I'd do now but I'm short on cash nowadays. I always hated my facial hair, and it was (and still) my biggest cause of dysphoria. I've heard HRT makes laser hair removal on facial hair much more effective, so that's why I've been waiting around. I am also happy that, my scalp is less oily as well as my skin. I've had like soo much oily skin that I had to use lots of products to get rid of. My acne on my forehad is 90% gone, and I'm so happy for it.

Because of T reduced on my system, the sebum production is decreasing, making my skin dryer. And I tried to masturbate twice in a month, but it was so hard to reach climax. I guess I need to find different ways to please me. But my orgasms were more like a full-body experience, and it was... mind blowing.

Mental Changes

Okay don't be afraid of those negative things I say first cause they're not always here, haha. PMS symptoms, usually once a week (sadly). Cramps on my intestines to the point I can't move. Sometimes I find myself that everything in the world irritates me.

And my love life started to bloom again... at least from my side. I find myself I'm falling for handsome guys much more easily... I can't stop myself. It's more of emotional than sexual this time. I started to be able to cry again after months, I cried for my breakup with my boyfriend for first time after 3 months, why it happened is another story to tell about.

And I cry on emotional scenes in TV series. But being able to cry makes me feel free! 💕 I don't have specific craves to foods, but sometimes I feel hungry out of nothing... it's harder for me to say "no" to some foods. My emotions now feels like a rainbow.

[dragonindigo245]

Official post for my orange side theory

AND NO IT IS NOT WRATH OR ANGER

WARNING: Spoilers for Working Through Intrusive Thoughts. I'm not gonna bother adding the spoiler tag to this post because all the spoilers are going to be under the read more.

Also this post is long so be warned.

Back in early August of 2020 I came up with an orange side theory I have stuck with for a long time. I always found the orange side theory of wrath/anger to be odd, seeing as anger is an emotion not a personality trait, and therefore made an effort to try and discover what I can see the orange side being. In light of the fandoms response to the latest asides saying that orange being wrath is "now canon", I figured it was time to bring it back, along with new points and explanations.

What is the orange side exactly? The answer is simple. He might not be this exactly, but orange is naivety, irrationality, or the inability to see logic clearly.

This started when I made the connection to the dark sides being complete opposites to one another. For example, Janus and Patton are opposite ends of the moral spectrum, Roman and Remus are opposite ends of the creative spectrum, and Logan himself is on the functionality/rationality spectrum. The opposite end would be something like naivety or irrationality.

After that post, I made another a couple of months ago with 3 main points, the first being the opposite ends point. The other two points are just as important.

Point 2: It ties into the 3 monkeys theory

The recent episode confirmed the 3 monkeys theory, further solidifying this point. In case you live under a rock or are new to the Sanders Sides theories, the 3 monkeys theory is based on the whole "See no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil" thing. The dark sides all have powers relating to each of these.

Janus has the ability to mute the sides (speak no evil), Remus has the ability to muffle the sides (hear no evil), and Orange has the ability to... make... their eyes pretty? I'm sure that we will get an actual explanation on how he influenced Logan in the future lol. Regardless, orange is definitely see no evil.

Now you may be asking, Indigo, how does this tie into irrationality?

Do you know what irrationality is? The inability to SEE the world clearly or to SEE reason or logic. Irrationality blinds you to reason itself. It makes sense, seeing as emotions are illogical and orange clearly did something to push Logan to an outburst. When orange provided his influence, Logan's eyes glowed orange, indicating he lost the ability to see purely logically. While, yes, orange did this with anger as a vessel, irrationality takes many forms.

Point 3: Color symbolism

Something that is frequently overlooked when fanders make theories about the sides is that each side ties into their color scheme in some way. Roman being red ties into him functioning as Thomas' romantic side, Patton's light blue tying into his gentle nature and trustworthiness, etc.

Orange is a color that is tied to joy and youth. Being naïve to the world around you crumbling down will often make you happier. While some naivety is great and can make you happy, in large doses it is a threat to your well being.

Point 3.5: How is this connection accurate?

A great deal of the plot in this episode, especially the endcard, showcases this irrational blindness to all of the issues the sides are having with each other. Throughout the episode, Logan keeps having to sacrifice his plan to help Thomas and then once Nico calls Thomas, Thomas doesn't know how hard it hurts Logan to once again be brushed off. In the endcard, Patton and Roman tell Logan that this is more important, not realizing how rejected Logan feels.

This isn't just happening with Logan either. Patton and Virgil have had some rising tension as of late as well. This is showcased the most clearly in this video when Virgil snaps at Patton and says "Oh thank goodness. You're giving him permission." sarcastically. Patton takes this as "I didn't know you would give him permission" whereas Virgil was meaning "He doesn't need your permission to feel good about this". Furthermore, each of the light sides have argued with each other individually in different episodes except for Virgil and Patton.

With Janus recently being more accepted, Remus appearing and hurting everyone, and the tension each of the main sides have... it's all going to fall apart. Nobody but the dark sides seem to notice this tension, not even Thomas. Why? Because they are being naïve. The orange side is either keeping them blissfully unaware or the very fact they are unaware is giving the orange side power.

What is the new point you mentioned?

This video with the orange side really got my gears turning. I began making connections that otherwise I didn't have the ability to make, or never happened to think of. The fact my theory has managed to hold up in a heavy orange side lore video only solidifies my confidence in this.

Point 4: The dark sides revolve around the truth

This theory is a little more of a stretch but if I'm right, then this is all the evidence I really need to confirm that orange is irrationality.

Janus is essentially the ring leader of the dark sides. He keeps them hidden until Thomas wants to be aware of them, with the potential exception of Virgil who we don't know when he was revealed to Thomas. However, each dark side has something in common besides witty remarks. They all center around the truth.

Janus and Remus are easier to figure out, seeing as Janus is literally the embodiment of lies and Remus has multiple times where it is obvious he provides the unfortunate truth. Remus being the bringer of truth is showcased multiple times, which I will only bullet point because this post is more-so about orange than him.

His line of "I would never hide anything from you."

Janus bit in Forbidden Fruit that goes "No longer will you deceive yourself about the ugliness within you."

Logan admitting Remus can help Thomas in his own way

Virgil on the other hand is harder. Unlike the other two, Virgil represents a completely different angle of this "truth theme". Virgil represents the fear of both the truth and the unknown. Why would Janus even need to even repress the dark sides in the first place if Thomas wasn't afraid of the truth that they were apart of him? Why would Thomas had admitted he didn't want there to be more dark sides after he asks if there were more of them if it were not fear he had more unwanted parts of him and fear of not knowing what they were?

Virgil knows Thomas' fears. This would have made admitting he was a dark side such a hard feat. If he felt Thomas was chill with the dark sides, Virgil could have instantly told Thomas he was in fact one of them. In a way, this makes Virgil the perfect bridge between the light and dark sides. The dark sides provide Thomas with the truth he needs or wants, and the light sides figure out how to handle it.

Point 4.5: What does this have to do with orange?

Orange would keep Thomas from the truth. While, yes, this is the exact same thing Janus does, Orange would do it another way. Janus makes Thomas unaware of the truth he KNOWS. Unconsciously, Thomas still knows what Janus hides. This makes it entirely different from how naivety works. Naivety would keep him from ever learning the information in the first place.

Furthermore, we saw that orange is potentially connected to Janus in some way. The very last thing we see in Working Through Intrusive Thoughts is the flash from Janus' eyes, to oranges eyes. This could be a slight hint at Janus and Oranges functions not being so far apart.

Or the writers just thought it would look neat. That too.

Is Logan the orange side?

I can say with almost 100% certainty the answer is no. We saw before each sides introduction, they manifested themselves in the other sides.

Janus silenced Roman in Accepting Anxiety Part 2, Remus manifested in Roman by giving him random unwanted outbursts (like the naked Aunt Patty line that Roman said he didn't know where it came from in the Christmas episode), and therefore it follows orange is manifesting in his own way.

Furthermore, Logan is not the type of character to turn evil. He has outbursts and is being beaten down but he would never snap for good. If anything, we have seen from Putting Others First that he would only appear as needed if he felt ignored.

Logan is not one to let his emotions make irrational decisions for long, and he almost always goes to make up for his mistakes the moment they happen. He always has Thomas' best interests at heart and has witnessed Virgil realizing force is not the way to go about it.

It makes no sense for his character and there is no reason for it to happen narratively.

Please note that this post is simply a theory and I do not wish to start arguments about if I am right or not. If you are going to provide counterclaims, please do so respectfully and do not clog my notes with your own essay. Thank you!

[mamahersh]

The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions)

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, blood, gore) <--- later chapters, this one’s clean.

Welcome to my first attempt at Ethoslab angst! I wanted an nHo-centric fic with a heavy dose of Etho angst. I have nowhere else to post this, and fair warning I am terrible at characterizations, so everyone will probably be a bit OOC to some extent; but for sure EvilX will be very OOC in how evil he is in this one. The Rating for the later chapters is a solid M, so be warned about that. If y’all have suggestions or feedback, feel free to come and say hi! P.S. I got my inspiration for this fic from this fic over here! Give them some love too.

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

Chapter 1 (below the cut)

BDoubleO was worried. 

Now, it wasn’t often he worried, particularly about Etho. Especially after the shenanigans from Season 5 with the nHo, and their many years of collaboration after that, he was well aware that Etho had a habit of disappearing for weeks on end. Even when he was supposed to be helping with a bit of collaboration work like the Horse Course, he was infamous for suddenly disappearing for a week, and coming back acting like nothing had happened. But even still, Etho usually left a note, or told someone about where he was going so they at least knew when to approximately expect him to show back up. This time though, Etho hadn’t even left Iskall a note, and so far this season he had made sure to at least leave a note for Iskall since they were sharing a base. (BDoubleO had asked Iskall 3 days after the last time he had seen Etho to ask if he knew where Etho was. Iskall didn’t know, though he had seen him 2 days previously puttering around their shared base as normal.) He had asked around the other Hermits, seeing if anyone had heard anything. The only one that had seen anything was Beef, who had said he had seen Etho lurking on the edges of his territory heading toward the top of BDubs’ mountain with a spyglass about a day and a half ago. Doc had mentioned that while he hadn’t seen Etho recently, he had heard that Etho had been busy in talks with Xisuma and Evil Xisuma over something. However, when BDubs questioned Xisuma, he said he hadn’t seen Etho since the last major server meeting. (It was always disconcerting when Hermits’ stories didn’t match up, as that usually meant there were shenanigans afoot. But BDubs couldn’t figure out why there would be shenanigans afoot, because this was just Etho.)

A whinny from Lulu beneath him startled BDubs out of his worries. Looking around he realized that they were already staring up at Xisuma’s lighthouse and general base area. Why were they there you might ask? (A theoretical from a theoretical, truly meta of him, aha) WELL, Xisuma had sent out a message to the server that everyone should come and gather at his base for an important something. BDubs was confused, and very concerned, that Xisuma was insisting on the meeting being in person. After all, any news could be dispensed through the Server messages, and all their bases were known, so boards could be placed at bases for Hermits to see as they came in and out. Meeting in person was never technically necessary, though it made it generally easier to talk with each other since they didn’t have to type everything out. The point stood however, that unless it was an emergency, Xisuma never called a general Hermit assembly outside of their regularly scheduled monthly meetings. 

Looking around, BDubs was able to see that Beef was already there, along with most of the Boatem Crew, and surprisingly enough, the Horsehead Farms guys were there as well. Of course, Doc was on his way, and last he heard, the Big Eye crew was following up behind him since they both had been busy when the announcement had gone out. The rest of the server would be on their way because of how far out they were. (Part of BDubs wondered if those who were coming in later were the lucky ones. The rest of him wondered why he was so filled with anxiety and so certain this meeting was only going to be terrible.) Deciding nothing good would come of dwelling on the negatives, he made his way over to where Beef (who was looking more unrecognizable by the day as the alien contamination overtook him) was standing alone, seemingly keeping his eye out for someone or something.

“Hey Beef!” BDubs called out, smiling and waving as he approached. Beef looked over at the sudden shouting of his name, and instantly relaxed as he saw BDubs approaching. “Hey BDubs!” he called back, something alien layered under his normal voice. (It spoke of void and distant stars, though Tango had recently been saying it reminded him more of sulfur and brimstone). “You know anything about why Xisuma’s called this meetup?” asked Beef before BDubs could ask the question himself.

“Not a clue,” BDubs replied, allowing his concern to show through as he stood ill-at-ease beside his friend. “He just announced he had something he wanted to show or talk to us about I guess, though I can’t imagine what it could be about.” Well, BDubs had a guess or two, but none of them were generally pleasant topics of conversation, outside of some surprise announcement for the next server update to 1.18.

“Darn, I was hoping you would have heard something…” said Beef, his own unease easy to read. BDubs shrugged, looking around at the other groups of players standing outside the Lighthouse. It looked like even in the short time they had been greeting each other, the other Big Eyed Crew had arrived on his tailwind. An awkward pause settled between the two of them, both having been so tied up in their own shenanigans to really know what the other had been up to. BDubs debated bringing up the obvious, but it seemed like one of those things you don’t necessarily bring up. But then again… 

“Yo Beef,” said BDubs, turning to look at Beef again. Beef startled out of his momentary reverie. “You’ve been looking pretty, uh… green recently. How’s that been treating you?”

For a moment Beef looked almost confused, before he seemed to connect the dots and snorted. “Oh yeah, it’s been treating me great, as you can see.” They both chuckled a bit at his sarcasm before he continued. “But in all seriousness, I hadn’t really been noticing it. I mean, I definitely notice that people have been giving me a wider berth this season, which hasn’t been great for business since I have a great idea for selling specialty cat food I can make on my alien ship. I haven’t personally noticed too many changes outside my appearance thus far however.” After a moment Beef said, “So how about you? How have Keralis and Tango been treating you this season?”

BDubs chuckled. “Would you believe it if I told you it’s been going great? I have a mountain already, and we have a small bay town we’re building up to serve as a shopping district for our Big Eye Crew. Plus, we got Tango to actually make his eyes big, so it’s a win all around! Though I’ve been noticing more Derpcoin sneaking into our shops…” 

“Hey now, what’s wrong with Derpcoin?!” exclaimed Beef, looking vaguely offended. BDubs was startled by this, completely not expecting such an outburst from Beef of all people.

“I mean, there’s nothing necessarily wrong with it, it’s just I have no idea what the conversion rate is on the stuff, so I don’t know what people are paying in my shop for the items they’re buying,” replied BDubs. “Plus, there’s nowhere to use it.”

“But there is a place to use it! You could use it at EX’s Evil Emporium. Plus, with more people signing up for Derpcoin, it seems like a lucrative market to sell in,” countered Beef, a strange gleam in his eyes. “EX was nice enough to give me an in into his Derpcoin shopping district, so I’ll have a storefront through the Evil Emporium.” 

"Evil Emporium huh?" BDubs made a considering noise. "Heard a little bit about it back when EX was doing a little sales pitch in our neck of the woods. Seems pretty fishy to me, but if you think it's a trustworthy establishment, I'll definitely give it a second look."

"Attention everyone!" called out Xisuma, suddenly standing in the center of the gathered Hermits. "Your attention please!" BDubs looked over to where X was waving everyone over. He noticed that X seemed abnormally forward, though that could be attributed to his paranoia. Afterall, X wasn’t one to cause problems! Sure he had been trying to get people on board with this Evil Emporium thing pretty hard, but X couldn’t hurt a fly even on a good day, so BDubs wondered if this wasn’t about Derpcoin.

He had been hearing from the other Big-Eyed crew that tensions between Boatem and the Derpcoin empire had been slowly escalating over the last week or so. Plus he had been hearing about more of the unaffiliated Hermits beginning to create close ties with EX’s brand, embracing Derpcoin as their main currency even! On the other hand, he’d been hearing from some of the Boatem people about how they were getting sick and tired of finding Derpcoin in their shops, and seemingly some people were beginning to refuse to pay for items with diamonds… There was a mess brewing for sure in the background this season, it just seemed like an issue that could wait till the next monthly meeting is all.

With a jolt, BDubs was brought back to the present as Doc bumped him in the shoulder. “How are you doing BDubs? Looking pretty lost in thought there, big guy.” 

“Well, doing pretty good if you must ask!” BDubs puffed up with the compliment on his height, despite knowing it was more than likely meant in a sarcastic manner. Between Doc and Etho, BDubs never really could catch a break. “You just get here then?”

Doc let out a rumbly hum in agreement. “Yesss, though I have no idea why Xisuma called the meeting. Know anything?”

BDubs and Beef both shook their heads. “We’re in the dark as much as you are, it seems,” replied Beef, moving towards the other Hermits to try and get their little group to walk and talk.

“I have a theory though!” continued BDubs, leaning in to act somewhat more conspiratorially. Doc leaned in a bit more than he needed to, getting a friendly bump on the head from Beef. “See, I’m sure you’ve both heard a bit more than I have about Boatem vs the Evil Emporium. I think things might be heating up enough between the two that X might be forced to intervene soon.” BDubs rubbed the back of his neck. “Admittedly, it still seems like the kind of thing that he would bring up in the monthly meeting instead of an impromptu meeting like this.”

“Looks like we don’t have to wait long to find out in any case.” Beef gestured at the surrounding Hermits and Xisuma himself still standing at the center looking official as usual. (Though BDubs thought he looked a little dazed, but he shoved the thought aside.)

“Thank you everyone for taking time out for this meeting!” called out Xisuma, his face still disconcertingly empty. “I’ve called you together today because EX had a stream he wanted us all to watch, and I agree it is most imperative we all watch it together.”

BDubs did not like the sound of this one bit. “What’s the stream about?” called Joe from the opposite side of the crowd.

“Yeah, why’s it so important we all have to watch it?” asked Cleo from beside him. BDubs realized that those two had had to travel across the entire continent to come to the meeting, and Joe was still renouncing wings, so taking long trips was a distinct hassle. At the very least, it was far more time consuming than everyone else’s trips had been, minus potentially XB and Hypno’s trip.

Xisuma seemed to stand there taking it silently, which was not necessarily outside of the usual, but his response certainly was. “With that out of the way, I’ll get the screen set up, and then we can watch EX’s stream!” ‘That was strange,’ thought BDubs as he looked around the circle of bewildered Hermits. Normally X would try to answer questions, or at least let them know things precisely before he did them. It was incredibly out of character that he would just ignore Joe and Cleo like that… Particularly Joe and Cleo if BDubs was to be brutally honest. Those three had been closer than three peas in a pod since Season 2, and Joe and X had known each other pretty well since almost the start of Season 1. To have those two brushed off by Xisuma struck a wrong chord.

BDubs was pulled back to the present as Xisuma rapidly typed into his communicator, and a holographic screen projected just beyond the circle of Hermits behind where Cub was standing. Almost as one, the Hermits turned to look at it, curiosity overpowering any potential feelings of lingering confusion and discomfort.

Xisuma’s expression was blank as the large screen buzzed to life in front of them. However, BDubs’ watched as he seemed to come back to himself just as the static on the screen cleared and the assembled hermits gasped in disbelief and horror.

‘Well,’ thought BDubs to himself, dread rising like a wave about to swallow him whole. ‘Now we know where Etho went.’ For there on the screen, looking the worst BDubs had ever seen him, was a restrained Etho beside a seemingly gleeful EvilXisuma.

[princess-pill-enjoyer]

Im not dead hi

💀💀💀

I kinda thought to myself a little and I was just like... oh yeh with the note I left on and the degree I've let this get to me dipping for that long probably would look suspect..

Figured I'd get back to it. I am tryna slow down again. Me constantly being like.. high high starts to get in the way I'm seeing. I can get away with it within the first like hour halfish buuut past that I get really out of it and I process shit super slow. I've actually always had this problem now that I'm looking back tbh. But usuallyyyy I'd just dose again during that period and I'd be fine. But with how much i take off rip I have hydration issues by the first and I'm sure taking dose after dose prolly would exasperate that a bit

I'm actually halfway through the bottle now. It was kinda weird to see. It's felt like it's unlimited ever since I bought the giant bottle but 4 months later andd I've emptied the rest of it into the container I hide em in. I don't know how I feel about it.

Oh right uh I dunno if I had done it by the time I posted the other one but I went ghost for like.. 4-5ish days and that was.. eventful. Wasn't planned. I was sad one day and I just continued ignoring everything until a less closeish friend of mine reached out. He considers me his best friend but even with that we don't talk that that much. So once HEEE start going through hoops to try and reach out I was like o uh maybe I took it too far.

All in the past now it's been about a week being back. I try and let myself ignore messages more so that I feel more comfortable giving myself space without needing as long as a break. Well. That's the nice way of looking at it. Whatever uh. R and me have been fine. Had some technical issues with insta and I wasn't on as much cause of it which wasn't a great look after all that. I felt so bad. She cried a few times while I was gone. Unlike me and the other dude we do talk everyday and while the shit aint as like.. ig attentive as it used to be, we do usually get back to each other a bunch throughout the day so she damn near instantly thought something was off..

Sorry I'm babbling at this point. Long story short. Habit has gotten pretty bad. When I dipped I was doing it 3x a day and I've been doing 2ish lately. Still a long way from the once every other day I was doing when I originally started this. It makes me really sad honestly. Sometimes I don't even feel like taking my pills for the day but then boom I'm finna cry. Or irritable and have my whole day ruined off a minor annoyance. It don't even feel worth it to fight it anymore. But the hydration thing is kinda bad so I try sometimes ig

I had 2 funerals to go to while I was gone too. One was an old family friend. I never was close with her as like I'm just now really starting to connect with people in my family tbh. But it was still like.. wild. I just visited her around this time last year and one year later she's in the ground. The second one was for a longtime friend of my mom's. I won't lie, I really didn't know her at all. But it happening back to back just rattled me. I had seen them both semi recently and they weren't deathly ill at the time or anything. I just. I dunno. I can't explain why it makes me sad

I had to get high for the funerals. I felt so embarrassed but I just know it'd be easier that way. Though uh I kept circulating on whether they suffered or not and I couldn't stop crying cause of it. I hate that there's a real possibility that they sat there feeling terrified and in agony before they left. That still kills me. I hope they were able to be semi comfortable at least. It's the least they deserve

I'm not high rn but that's finna change. I had to play this game with a friend of mine yesterday while coming down and that shit was.. miserable. I wanted to sleep and lie around but dude bought the game for me specifically for us to play. I wouldn't dare. I was tryna stay sober today just incase he was tryna play earlier today and i didn't wanna risk being gone gone. But atp I think I'll just hop on tomorrow. I'm sick of being like this. I'll just say I got busy.

I'm gonna probably change the way I write these cause the multiple times a day thing is kinda awkward to document. Or not. I dunno. Maybeee I will stop being such a fucking JUNKIEEE and take the shit at least semi safely I wouldn't need to but. We will see.

I'll get back to it tho. I think it's important to keep up with it and if I only update when I'm semi stable it defeats the purpose of the page tbh. My bad for dying off the face of the earth. I'm fine

[mallowstep]

The fact that tiger calls her golden flower...like I ain’t even read the thing but that has me feeling Some type of way....obvs Goldens better off away from him but like, what does Tiger...think/feel idk about her/the situation, if you’ve given it any thought? I’m super curious

i have given it all thought lovely anon.

okay, we're going to put this under a cut.

cw: sexual assault, child abuse, abuser's pov of abuse

ohh i accidentally took a dose of my meds too early i can Feel it that's fine this is fine sorry if i ramble a lot i am Wired.

tigerstar is a fundamentally terrible person. while i have his rationale for basically everything he does, please forgive me for not going in-depth into his perspective. it's not something i generally like doing, and i've already given myself enough tawny fics to indulge that side of this au.

anyway, we're still going to talk about it. just. from a more analytical pov. probably., i don't know. i told you i am Wired. i am. trying to stay on topic instead of rambling about reward centres.

anyway.

tigerstar! goldenflower! okay so. anon ik u said u haven't read mistyfoot's fic, so i'll try to be good and provide good examples. so basically, tigerstar alternates between being angry at mistyfoot and...almost treating her like a mate?

and there's uh. we'll focus on the mates thing for this because the anger thing is a whole different topic. all quotes i'm going to use come from "the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine," for personal reasons i don't feel comfortable directly linking to it, so you can find it on my ao3. (should be a link on my pinned post, about page, sidebar, etc. there are like 14 links because self Promotion.)

okay so like. misty's first interation with tigerstar and he calls her brave and noble. there's. a lot i could unpack but i'm trying to get to the goldenflower thing. so i'm going to move on, his second significant interaction is:

"With who?" Tigerstar says. His tail flicks to her chin. The sudden gesture of kindness startles her. "Besides, Mistyfoot. If you want to help your Clan so badly, there are better ways you can help."

which ooh boy the tangent cannot be avoided. so okay tigerstar wants power, yeah?

and the thing is, any she-cat can have a position of power he's completely limited from. which is why he manipulates mistyfoot using that, it's a power trip, it's taking that position away from her.

but the reason he fixates so heavily on this is because of...

goldenflower.

he leaves his kits with her because he has no authority over her. or them. my world does not have paternity rights lmao. sorry. different not better.

but that's, uh. yeah wow. he's doing a Lot with that re goldenflower if you want to analyze it from that pov, which we do. goldenflower is a queen, right? we've never seen her to have an apprentice. while i like giving her apprentices, holding to canon here and say, she probably hasn't.

and that's. tigerstar is. he's putting mistyfoot into a similar position as goldenflower so that he can this time have control over the situation.

(maybe that's what he would've done with the kits. take them away from mistyfoot. because he has the power this time. or force her to raise them, knowing that he's going to turn them against her. i don't know. there's a Lot he could have done.)

anyway, so yeah! that's his first interaction. and he's already putting pressure on mistyfoot's value as a queen.

they have some more interactions, but let's jump ahead to

"It's alright," he whispers, like she did not watch him tear Featherpaw open. He wraps his tail around her, pulling her in like he could comfort her, like Featherpaw's blood does not coat his claws.

what's up with this? well, it has a lot to do with how i view goldenflower and tigerclaw's relationship. he's trying to...do a lot. there's a power trip in this, there's a "if i force her to do it enough, maybe she'll do it naturally," there's a lot. and you wouldn't know unless i told you, so you can freely dota, but this is. tigerstar is puling on what his relationship with goldenflower was like. (from his pov.)

and the thing is it works. i'm skipping past some stuff i may or may not circle back to, but it works. i mean it does and it doesn't. it does the way abuse does.

She'd be ashamed of how grateful she was, of how she purred in front of him, of how she didn't even flinch when he ran his temple against her, but none of that matters, not if Featherpaw can eat.

like. god.

so uh. that's a thing.

i was talking on discord about how. tigerstar makes mistyfoot's treatment excruciatingly public for her. and part of his reasoning for this is that goldenflower rejected him. he's a fucked up man.

"reasoning" well it's not, he's not aware of this. but let us...

so there's a scene (before the last excerpt, but after "it's alright"), where it snows overnight. mistyfoot is in tigerstar's den (implied to be overnight), and so he says, "well! sucks to suck, you can't see featherpaw bc of all that snow." basically. and she...

"Please?" she asks, trying not to feel sick when she brushes her temple against his shoulder.

yeah. and he's like, "well, fine, but i'm going to make you walk through all of the snow that like comes up to your back because we are cats, even though you could walk straight across camp where the snow is packed down."

but the thing is, mistyfoot, just like goldenflower, chooses her kit over tigerstar, and he's pissed about that. he...well he's not thinking rationally here, but. this is kind of...so he's forcibly pushing featherpaw and mistyfoot into this isolated relationship where they have no one else, so that mistyfoot will do Anything for featherpaw. that's how he gets mistyfoot's obediance. we see this in one of the earlier scenes:

"Featherpaw isn't well, is she?" he asks. "Mudfur keeps trying to see her, but the guards don't let him in." His whiskers twitch, like this is all a game. "But you know, Mistyfoot. If you were good, if you'd just behave, I think I wouldn't have to worry so much about the guard. And you're always so good when it comes to Featherpaw."

where she's not doing what he wants, and he says this, and he does.

but tigerstar is not a person who loves. so i think he just. doesn't know that when mistyfoot would do anything for featherpaw, she would do anything for featherpaw. she would walk around camp while all of tigerclan watches and mocks her to see featherpaw and know that featherpaw is okay. without a second thought.

and that angers him. because she's not supposed to do that. she is supposed to do what he wants. because it benefits her by benefitting fetherpaw. so he just does not understand their relationship.

and so when mistyfoot chooses to leave him, just like goldenflower, his ability to play house with her is broken. and we get this:

Even with his permission, she is punished for leaving him. Tigerstar barely gives her half a day with Featherpaw before he drags her out again.

and this is another scene where we see that mistyfoot would do anything for featherpaw, because

(He leaves her in the snow until her paws go numb, and she watches as Darkstripe walks Featherpaw to the center of camp. She raises her head, trying to get her apprentice's attention, because even if she must look miserable — at least Featherpaw would know she was trying.

and mistyfoot spends a lot of her fic not acknowledging what's going on. she pretends that featherpaw doesn't know because. it's easier that way. but here, she's wiling to shatter that whole illusion just so that featherpaw knows mistyfoot hasn't abandoned her, that mistyfoot is trying to get back to her.

mistyfoot is in pretty terrible shape here, too. i chose not to state exactly how she's positioned in this scene, but. the intention is not just that the snow itself is cold, but that he's once again humiliating her.

tigerstar. buddy. you don't fucking get it.

mistyfoot doesn't care what you do to her. she will always be trying to get back to featherpaw. everything she does is for featherpaw, not for herself.

(which, aside, but this is not lost on featherpaw. she knows what mistyfoot does for her. some things she doesn't (notably, she's not aware that mistyfoot's demeanour is tied to featherpaw's access to medical care), but she's still deeply aware of this.)

so. anyway. tigerstar punishes mistyfoot for choosing featherpaw over him, and in the middle of that punishment, she once again chooses featherpaw over him.

(no wonder goldenflower didn't want to go with you dude.)

and so he punishes featherpaw, because that's what works. he does a lot of terrible things to mistyfoot, and all that happens is that she fights back. but when he hurts featherpaw, she concedes instantly.

he doesn't get it, he doesn't understand why it's like that, but he doesn't need to in order to manipulate her.

so after this, there's a lot of scenes. but just because you haven't read it, here's mistyfoot coming out and saying what i've just been explaining:

(She can't force herself to be willing be compliant be good and her consolation is that Tigerstar doesn't bring Featherpaw forward to be punished, that he digs his claws in her legs and his teeth in her scruff and it doesn't matter, not if Featherpaw is safe.)

and there's stuff, there's always stuff, but featherpaw's health goes into sharp decline, there's another defying tigerstar scene but it's for a different reason, and then we get to goldenflower moment.

so featherpaw sleeps On Top Of Mistyfoot, for reasons that aren't relevant. but there comes a point where blackfoot comes to bring mistyfoot to tigerstar, and featherpaw is asleep, and we get this moment of defiance:

Blackfoot comes for her when Featherpaw is still asleep. She needs every scrap of it she can get, and Mistyfoot waits until Blackfoot snaps at her for wasting time to rouse her.

but tigerstar finally gets what he wants, because when blackfoot forces the issue, mistyfoot leaves. and from his pov, mistyfoot doesn't even say goodbye to featherpaw.

(she does. it's not directly stated anywhere, but mistyfoot and featherpaw have some very strong nonverbal communication. this is the scene that sets it up, actually, where mistyfoot says goodbye without looking back.)

so from tiger's pov, he's finally gotten mistyfoot to choose him, and this is when

(He calls her Goldenflower, and even he seems surprised by the name.)

happens, and it's when tigerstar finally realizes what's going on.

<3

[aerynwrites]

Job Gone Wrong - Javier Peña x Reader

Author’s Note: How could I resist the urge to use this gif?? ugh, this man DOES THINGS TO ME. Anyway, I was VERY, inspired by this post from @spacedadheadcanons (Thank you so much for letting me use it!) and also thanks to @theforceofdarkandlight pretty much INSISTING that I write this �� Love you Lauren you da best ❤ And an even more special Thanks to my beta readers @anniebombannie and @amberthefiredemon y’all are so fun and amazing and make this whole process to much easier! love you guys!

p.s. I do NOT speak spanish. I literally punched stuff into SpanishDict! and hoped for the best lol, so i apologize to everyone who can speak/read spanish this is probably butchered XD

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Reader gets stabbed, mentiosn of blood, sticthes, cursing, re-injury, kising, angst and fluff.

///

You had been partners with Javier Peña and Steve Murphy for a little over a year at this point, and you had managed to get Javier into a relationship within about seven months of that time. To say you were surprised was more than an understatement. You had been pining after your fellow DEA agent pretty much the second you laid eyes on him, but you were quick to learn that he was not a relationship guy. 

He found what seemed like a new woman every night, slept with her, and then kicked her out before the birds started chirping in the early morning light. It was a routine you had learned very quickly due to the horrifyingly thin walls of your shared apartment building. So, when about two months into your transfer, the obscene sounds from next door stopped, it caught you off guard. You had almost wanted to ask Javier about it, but you knew that conversation would be awkward, so you let it be. However, you didn’t fail to notice the extra attention the agent started to give you soon after. The lingering gazes, the gentle grazes he gave your lower back as he scooted by you, and you definitely couldn’t ignore when he started to bring you coffee every morning, prepared just the way you liked. 

Steve let out a low chuckle as Javier walked away after just delivering your morning cup of coffee, having to talk to the ambassador about something.

“What?” you questioned, sipping slowly at the warm drink in your hands.

Steve just shook his head, “You both are just oblivious as hell,” he says, a smirk adorning his lips.

Your brows furrowed together, “What do you mean? He’s just being nice.”

You knew your words were bullshit, but what did Steve expect you to do? Fall down at Javier’s feet and confess your undying love?

Steve rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, “You both are like two lovesick puppies but are too stubborn to admit it.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah well, you know how he is…he doesn’t do the relationship thing. I wouldn’t stand a chance,” you sigh bitterly.

Steve shrugs his shoulders, hands clasped together and resting on his stomach, “I don’t know…a little bird told me that a certain DEA agent has caught feelings for you.”

And that was the day you found out Javier Peña had feelings for you too. You had resolved that day to tell him how you felt, but he had beaten you to it when he knocked on your apartment door with a pizza and beer in hand. 

The rest was history as they say.

Since then, you two had been together happily. You both had flaws you had to work through but you did it together, hell it only took him a couple of weeks to convince you to move in with him since you practically live with him anyways with how much you stayed over. And of all of this lead you here, chasing down two of Escobar’s men through a local Comuna with Steve. Javier had been away for almost a week working with Carrillo on another lead. The news had made both you and Javier upset, never having been away from each other more than a day or two, but you knew it had to be done. So, you both had to settle for phone calls each night instead. But now you were missing Javier even more, he was usually the one to run after targets while you ambushed them, but now that you were the one running after them you realized just how out of shape you were. You had gotten separated from Steve somewhere along the way but had managed to stay on the Narcos’ tail, sighing in relief when you reached a dead end, corning the man in a small courtyard. 

“Pon tus manos arriba donde pueda verlas!” you commanded, gun raised and aimed at the perp in front of you.

He looked at you menacingly before dropping his gun and raising his hands above his head.

“¡ no te muevas!” you say, telling the man not to move as you approached him, gun still aimed while pulling the cuffs from your belt. 

You slowly approached him and commanded him to turn around before grabbing one of his hands and pulling it roughly behind his back, clicking one of the cuffs around his wrist. But before you could get his other hand down, he was ripping it from your grasp and grabbing something from his belt. It all happened so fast. One minute you were about to arrest the guy and the next he had turned around and drove a knife into your side before running off.

You let out a pained gasp as a sharp jolt shot through your side, “Motherfucker!” you cursed, hand immediately pressing into your side as you stumbled slightly, pressing your other hand against the wall for stability. You felt the thick and warm liquid run from your side and through your fingers, coating them in a dark crimson.

“Shit,” you whisper at first, “fuck!” you exclaimed, hand slamming against the wall next to you as the reality of the situation sank in. 

You had just lost your main lead to the case and gotten stabbed in the process, and you didn’t know where Steve was. This was just great. As if he could read your mind, you heard rapid footsteps followed by a familiar voice calling out your name.

“I’m over here!” you call, finally seeing Steve round the corner and his eyes widened at the red stain blossoming on your white shirt, “fucker stabbed me before he ran off,” you hiss as Steve approaches pulling his jacket off and replacing your hand with the fabric instead, trying to staunch the bleeding. 

“Are you okay? Can you walk?” he asks frantically. 

You nod, surprisingly it didn’t hurt all that much, you suppose the adrenaline pumping through you had something to do with that, “Yes, I’m fine, let’s just get the hell out of here before more trouble finds us,” you breathe, and let Steve lead you back to the car.

----

You let out a sigh as you carefully strip off your blood-stained shirt in favor of one of Javier’s clean ones lean back into the multitude of pillows you threw on the bed. Steve had just walked you to your and Javier’s apartment after a trip to the hospital and a dose of painkillers. 

“Remember to take these every six hours, and then your antibiotics twice a day,” Steve reminded you, pressing the bottles into your hands after you unlocked the doors, “And don’t rip your stitches, last thing we need is another trip to the hospital,” he teases.

you roll your eyes, and give the man a mock salute, “Sir, yes sir!” before walking into your apartment and closing the door.

Okay so maybe the painkillers were doing a little more than just taking the pain away. You mostly felt tired, but it was also mixed with a slightly fuzzy feeling in your mind. Just as you were about to crawl under the covers and get some much-needed rest you heard the door to your apartment open and close, followed by the jingling of keys being tossed onto the counter.

“Sweetheart?” Javier’s baritone voice drifted through the apartment.

A smile immediately lit up your face and you quickly, but carefully, swung your legs off the side of the bed and walked into the living room, eyes instantly falling onto a disheveled but relaxed looking Javier.

“Javi! You’re back!” you say, voice thick with relief as you walk over and wrap him in a hug.

His face falls instinctively to the crook of your neck and he takes in a deep breath, “I miss you so much, mi amor,” he whispers, hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaves a soft kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You can feel him start to push you backwards slightly and you pull away from the embrace looking at him questioningly, “Javi, babe what are you-“ 

Before you can finish Javier pushes you somewhat roughly into the wall behind you, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone,” he breathes, mouth moving from you neck to your jaw.

“I missed you too Javier,” you gasp as his mouth finally meets yours, days of longing and emotions poured into this single action. 

Javier’s hands drift from ups up to your sides, gripping you roughly through his thin t-shirt you were wearing, right over your newly injured side. You let out a loud gasp, pleasure and pain, and your foggy mind can’t tell which is more important in this moment. 

“Did you put this one for me?” he asks, voice thick with want and need, “because you look so fucking-“ his words catch in his throat as he squeezes your side once more, and his brows knit confusion as a new and unfamiliar warmth meets his hand. He pulls away from you slightly, ignoring your whine at the loss of contact and his eyes widen at the sight before him. 

His hand is covered in a thin coat of blood, as he pulls it away from the crimson stain on your shirt, “What the fuck? (y/n), what they hell is this?” he exclaims, voice rising several octaves as he takes your wrist in his non bloody hand and pulls it away from your body to get a better look at your now bleeding side.

You let out an indignant huff, “Some asshole stabbed me earlier today, nothing major now-“ you reached out for him again, wanting to feel his lips on your again, “Come here. I can’t even feel it!” you assure.

Javier lets out an angry sigh, shoving your grasping hands away and instead pulls you over to sit on a stool in the kitchen, “Stop! You got fucking stabbed? And you didn’t tell me?” he asks, anger and concern lacing his words as he hurriedly digs under the sink for the med kit he had there.

You roll your eyes, “I’m fine! Plus, I just got home a few minutes before you did, how was I supposed to tell you?” you argue.

Javier doesn’t say anything in return, he instead rushes back over to where you are sitting, med kit in hand. He quickly lifts your shirt up and over your head to inspect the damage. The bandages are soaked completely through with blood and he gently lifts up the bottom edge of your sports bra to unwrap the dirty bandages. 

“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as I walked in the door? It should have been the first thing you told me!” he scolded; voice harsher than he meant for it to be. You sighed and slumped over in your seat slightly, shame filling you at his words, “I’m sorry Javi,” you whisper, hand running through his hair lightly.

His heart was racing at the thought of what happened to you, and the fact that he wasn’t there when it happened. As he unwrapped the last layer, he cringes slightly at the damage he sees. It’s actually not as bad as it seemed, some of the stitches had just ripped from where he had been a little rough with you. he felt a pang of guilt shoot through him.

“No, I’m sorry, look at what I did,” he mutters, pulling the supplies he’d need from the med kit and setting them on the counter. 

You opened your mouth to refute his apology but were silenced with a quick peck to the lips instead. Javier brought a hand up to rest on your cheek and gently ran his thumb over your cheek bone, “Just…let me fix you up okay? Then I’ll order some food and we can relax.” Your eyes found his, flooded with concern but also bursting with love as he stared back at you.

You gave him a small smile, turning your head to press a kiss to the palm of his hand and nodded, “Okay.”

Javier gave you a small smile before kneeling down to your side and set to work on patching you up. He cleaned away the blood before disinfecting the area and carefully placing a few stitches back where they needed to be. He took notice of how you barely flinched as he threaded the needle through your skin and let out a small chuckle before tying a knot and cutting the thread.

“They must have you on some pretty strong painkillers,” he comments, now wrapping the bandages around your torso.

You let out a giggle, “I was telling you the truth when I said it didn’t hurt,” you begin, “But I think I’m just a badass, because it didn’t hurt when I actually got stabbed either,” you say, a large smile on your face. 

Javier finishes wrapping the bandages securing them with some medical tape before standing so you were looking up at him. he let out a small chuckle and gently placed his hands on your hips, “Yeah well you’re my badass,” he says playfully, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

You smile into the kiss, his moustache tickling your upper lip slightly before you pull away and rest your head against his chest, sighing contentedly. You both just stayed in that position for a while, his hands on your hips and your arms wrapped loosely around his waist, relishing in each other’s presence after a week of not seeing one another. 

You finally broke the silence, “Can we order from that pizza place a few blocks over? I didn’t realize how hungry I was until you mentioned food,” you said shyly.

Javier just gave you a bright smile and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling you up from the stool, “Anything for you amado,” he says gently.

You smile at his sweet words and follow him as he leads you over to the couch and sits you down, “Stay here I’ll be right back.” 

You nod and watch as he scurries off the bedroom, emerging moments later in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, his arms filled with pillows and blankets. You feel your heart swell as he comes over and places the pillows down near the armrest and motions for you to lay down before tossing the blanket over you. you gave him a warm smile as he went to go order the pizza before returning back to the living room and sitting down, pulling your legs into his lap and turning on the TV.

He gently strokes your legs over the covers, and you intertwine one of your hands with his free one, “You’re too sweet to me Javi,” you say quietly.

Javier looks over to you, and shakes his head, “Nothing is ever too much for you mi amor,” he says sweetly before leaning over, mindful of your injured side, and kissing you sweetly before pulling away and taking your hand in his again. 

“I love you Javi,” you say quietly, eyes on the TV.

Javier smiles, squeezing your hand gently as his other hand still stroked your leg slowly, a certain calm peace settling over him as he sat on the couch with the woman he loved.

“I love you too.” 

Bonus:

Steve watched as Javier walked into the embassy the next day, straight to his desk and dialing the phone. He was still as he waited for whoever it was to pick up then he caught Steve’s eye and turned away from him, as they answered. “Hey, yes I know I just left,” he casts Steve another glance and lowers his voice, Steve had to strain to hear the conversation.

 “Did you remember to take your pain killers?” Javier paused, “And the antibiotics?” he paused again, “Yes I know you can take care of yourself, I just wanted to make sure,” he defends, “Okay, yes, I will grab some on the way home, love you,” he says finally and hangs up the phone, turning to return to his desk across from his partners.

Steve gives him a shit eating grin, leaning back in his chair, he opens his mouth to say something, but Javier stops him with an accusing finger, “Not a fucking word,” word he bites. 

Steve fights to hold back a laugh and puts his hand up in mock surrender, “Okay Peña, but I will say I never took you for the mother hen type,” he smirked.

Javier wouldn’t admit it, and he definitely wouldn’t show it in front of the other guys at work, but Steve knew how much he cared about you. He had to hold back another laugh as he ducked to avoid the folder thrown his way, finally laughing at the disgruntled look Javier sent his way.

Oh yeah, he wasn’t fooling anybody...He was smitten.

///

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[scripttorture]

[knock-out part 1/3] Hey ScriptTorture, firstly thank you so much, you've honestly impacted my writing in a huge way. Thank you. I want to run something by you if that's okay. I've got a character who gets given my in-world fantasy equivalent of a "knock-out" drug which causes characters to have lax muscles and also dissociate if they don’t pass out. I know you've said before that the way these are used in narratives is often unrealistic because they don't work instantly,

[knock-out part 2/3] you can't predict how long the character will be "out" for, and it's hard to judge the dose so you might kill them instead. I have three characters who are given the drug. I want to show that using drugs like this is a serious weapon rather than a “safe” way to neutralise a threat, but I can’t have any of these three characters die from the drug for plot reasons. Here’s what I have so far: one character gets a small dose and grows weak but doesn’t pass out, [knock-out part 3/3] then recovers quickly with no side-effects, the second is given repeated doses on top of other injuries and stays in a state of “haze” for a day (for plot reasons), with dissociative side-effects for the rest of their life, and the third gets one large dose, has a delayed reaction but does pass out, and recovers. Would it be realistic to give this third character short-term memory problems for life?

-

Thank you Anon :)

 Alright since this ask is going to heavily involve information from my day job testing medical drugs I’m going to start off by stating the sort of things I know. My training is as a synthetic organic chemist, which is a fancy way of saying I’m trained to make chemicals. I ended up doing a lot of work on pharmaceuticals/drugs. My post-grad degree was about drug-targetting (sending drugs to specific parts of the body) which is a branch of research aimed at reducing side effects. I’ve worked on drug formulations (all the other stuff that goes with the drug itself to make it easier to take ex turning it into a pill) and I currently test inhalers.

 I also take a fair few medications and I’m close to quite a few disabled people. Which has made me familiar with some of the weirder side effects out there.

 A lot of the time we don’t know why medications do these things or why these effects only seem to happen to some people and not others.

 Sometimes we know: chemotherapy agents have a tendency to make people nauseous and make their hair fall out because they attack dividing cells. And the cells of the gut lining and hair follicles naturally divide quickly. One of the medications I currently take can cause light headedness and fainting because it slows the heart rate.

 And then you get the odd ones. Right now I’m taking a medication which says inside the packet that I should ‘avoid exposure to sunlight’ (will I explode like a vampire?*). An old friend regularly took something which had a uh- slight tendency to make people’s skin die and fall off in huge chunks.

 These drugs were prescribed for dizziness caused by an ear infection and sleep disorders respectively.

 Chemicals can be weird like that. The pathways our bodies use to break them down aren’t always predictable and small genetic changes might mean different by-products in different people.

 Recently there’s been a lot more attention on how sexism and racism have effected science with people rightly calling out the fact that some drugs which are mostly given to women or non-white people seem to have more/worse side effects then expected. It’s a legitimate concern, especially when it comes to how much funding is put into researching particular conditions.

 The flip side is that it can take easily 15 years for a drug to be approved. Often side effects are something we have to accept until we have a better alternative.

 And there’s always an element of risk involved. A medicine being declared ‘safe’ rarely means ‘always 100% safe for everyone’ it’s more like ‘safe under these conditions’, ‘safe for the majority of people’ and ‘safer then the disease it treats’.

 All of which means that if you’re making up a drug you really are free to pick whatever side effects you feel fit the story. There are a lot of really weird ones out there, especially when you get into the rarer side effects.

 When it comes to knock out drugs in stories (or use of chemicals and drugs to cause pain) I try to communicate long term injuries and worst case scenarios because I get the impression a lot of authors either don’t understand them or don’t take them seriously. From the sounds of things you are taking this scenario very seriously and you’ve thought about the sorts of long term effects you want the characters to have.

 This combination of side effects isn’t something I’ve heard of in a single drug. But I don’t think that matters here.

 All of the side effects individually are possible with different drugs. The fact you’ve considered side effects and committed to showing them means you’re taking the issue seriously. And it’s a fictional drug. So I don’t think it matters much that you’ve chosen side effects to fit your story (I actually think that’s a much smarter writing choice then trying to pick a real drug).

 I think the only thing I’d really add is that memory problems of the kind you’re describing still aren’t that well understood. So most of the long term interventions in reality are just… life style changes. Reminders and alarms and helpers.

 The sort of general forgetfulness that I think you’re describing can have really terrible knock on effects on people’s lives. It makes it harder to hold down a job, keep medical appointments, maintain relationships and it’s really common in trauma survivors.

 I think trying to use that, portray it well, is a good thing. Because I have too many survivors tell me they didn’t realise what they were experiencing was a symptom.

 So realistic? Not exactly, but I think what you’re planning to do is a good idea regardless. Realism isn’t always the be all and end all of this stuff. It’s where and how we choose to break with reality that matters and whether that choice shores up apologist arguments or has unfortunate implications.

 Unfortunately most of the time when we, writers, break with reality around torture that’s what we end up doing: tacitly supporting apologist ideas. Usually not out of malice, but just because accurate information is hard to find. So I do stress what the reality is like a lot. I think it’s important to understand the reality before we decide where to depart from it.

 And I think where you’ve chosen to make that break works fine.

 I hope that helps. :)

*After running the experiment it turns out no! But it does make being outside in England feel like being out in midday in Al Khobar which is bizarre. 

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[moonynpadfootforever]

WHY I LOVE WOLFSTAR A SHORT ESSAY FILLED WITH FAR TOO MANY OF MY OPINIONS

(this was far too long to try to break up into asks so here ya go)

There are, as the kids say, a shit ton, of reasons as to why i love wolfstar and why they are my otp, i shall break it down into five categories, (pls note these are my perceptions of them and how i view them)

  The first is simply they were my first ship. when, i was a youngin, i loved harry potter (still do but fuck jkr). I remember sitting my butt down for hours on end just to read and read and read those goddamn books. And then the prisoner of azkaban came along (instantly my fave hp book too btw) and i saw remus and sirius and was like, well that sounds about right, before i even knew what shipping was. Long story short, its my first ship from one of my favorite series and im a loyal dude if nothing else, but honestly there’s never even been any competition.

  The second reason is because of the d y n a m i c s my goodness, ima try to make this short. They are so perfectly complementary to each other, I love the way sirius is and needs to be upfront in everything, he is bold and forward. I’m not saying you can always tell exactly what he’s thinking but or how he’s feeling but, he needs to show his emotions as is, he needs to let the world know when injustices are being committed, when something isn’t right, when something is right. Remus on the other hand, hides, his smiles never reach his eyes just out of habit, his laughs never seem like they’re coming out fully and even though he wants you to know what he’s saying, what he’s saying directly is backwards and twisted, frequently sarcastic.I love though, that they both have strong moral compasses, even if they don’t always point in the same direction. I love that they don’t always point in the same direction. I love how they’re so similar yet so different, but in a special way? If that makes sense because everyone is “so similar and so different” but there’s something about the way that they just match up like a puzzle piece that just fills a lil part of my happy soul. I especially appreciate how they’re able to communicate with each other, (not literally, sometimes they are very bad at talking) how to get the truth out of each other, and how to get the genuine, the real and sincere. The vulnerable. But I also love how they bring out the most desperate and aggressive parts of each other. Sirius’s possessiveness, remus’s jealousy, both of their pettiness.I have a million other reasons that i could talk about forever but i think this about covers what i'm feeling in the current moment at least. Bonus: I said this in a wolfstar group chat but like it’s still relevant 

  “Ok so this got me thinking about an angry remus and most people are either “When remus explodes, thats when he’s truly angry” or “when remus is silent thats when he’s truly angry” But i don’t think it’s like that i think it's like a staircase, see it’s flat, then it goes straight up, escalating, there is no end to his anger, not that he’s found but levels. Levels that you can tell he's gotten more angry, not calmed down because he switches from frozen tundra to typhoon, to frozen tundra to typhoon, etc, and i think that when remus calms down it isnt gradual, its all at once sure he's been thinking about it, stewing on it, but it hits him when hes fully processed at once and I think sirius is the opposite, when remus is on an icy level, sirius is on an explosive level and so on and i just they compliment each other so well that sometimes it's damaging to eachother and thats all i had to contribute”

  I love, as with any other ship or fanon, all the possibilities. I saw one post that was talking about ships and one person said (loosely quoting here) “simply it means, i think there’s a story there” which i adore. And because of their dynamics, there are so many stories i can think of. If you want to go (semi) canon, they were in wizarding london, before/during a war, they went to hogwarts, maybe they got to explore their sexuality, maybe they made new friends, maybe they fell in love like there’s so many possibilities. But on the hand we know so much about the characters that we’re able to apply them to things we love and know like modern times, and real life, and aus we love like art. Even if there wasn’t much officially in canon we were able to see a story there and we made them!!! We each analysed and added and grew these ideas of these characters in our head and i love that! But back to remus and sirius, because of how i imagine their temperaments and ideals, i think there’s a lot of directions and opportunities for many types of stories which is a driving force in choosing my ships. Fluff, angst, redemption arcs, first love, exploring sexuality, older, younger, magic, real, there’s so many you name it.

There’s also the sheer ability to put yourself into a character that i think makes it important for a ship. For me, i can relate a fair amount remus and sirius, and as can many of you. It makes a story personal, real to a reader which is important. I love seeing stories that address trauma, and homophobia, bad decisions, anger, sadness, and along with that other types of bad things as well. Sometimes it’s easier to feel like you’re not completely alone with something when reading it in a story or stories, especially when they’re written by people you know love the same things about these characters, and understand (consciously or unconsciously) It helps that remus and sirius have such experiences between them that it feels like everything i'm looking for is right there.

  At the same time, there is literal magic between them! This creates a perfect way to have just a lovely healthy dose of escapism. I don’t read stories for sad endings ill be honest. But the magic between them is portrayed in so many ways and so beautifully between stories and artists and in every au. You can fall in love, laugh, and cry right there with them and it’s easy to do so with these characters and i just lkalshdlk;ads it makes me happy. 

  Long long story short, they make me happy!! Again, this is just a short summary as to why. I could answer analyses and questions and hcs all day but like….. This was already a lot to read, and too long to write for someone on summer break that isn’t fanfiction.

[boobtubedude]

Reposting my original “Lost” series finale review

(Originally posted May 23, 2010, on Zap2It. RIP, Zap2It.)

So here’s the deal: this will not be a complete recap of the series finale of “Lost.” To try to make complete and coherent sense of what just dropped our way would be 1) impossible, and 2) be a disgrace to what just happened. Because what just happened isn’t something you instantly react to, but rather mull over during the course of a few days, weeks, months, or years. After all, that was the final episode. We have all the time in the world to think about its implications until we “move on.”

And yes, I use the phrase “move on” specifically due to the use of the phrase by Christian Shephard in the sideways universe, which we know now to be real only in the emotional sense of the world. All throughout the season, the producers of the show have assured us that what happens over there had stakes and meanings, and this is still completely true in the most basic of senses. Neither the pro-epilogue camp nor the pro-Island timeline had it exactly right, even though both camps had valid perspectives to bring to the table and pieces of the puzzle in hand. What “Lost” brought instead was a third perspective, one that nobody really saw and one that I bet made a core section of its audience completely and utterly insane with anger.

Looking at the finale from a perspective of mythology isn’t the best way to go about it. (I started to jot down “So who put the stone in the devil cave in the first place?” before slapping myself silly.) Looking at the finale from a perspective of plot probably isn’t the best ay, either. (Waaaaay too much time spent on getting Ajira 316 up and running again, especially considering the sideways resolution. And there are enough holes in the overall plot as a whole to dig a few dozen wells down towards the light inside all of us.) But looking at it from an emotional perspective, I thought the finale was a masterpiece.

In a sense, “The End” was a love letter from the show to itself and, hopefully, to the audience as well. But it didn’t pay off donkey wheels and Dharma Initiatives but the core characters of the show themselves. The sideways universe did offer a second chance, but not in the way that those that saw the sideways world as a chance to live their lives free from the Island. Instead, it offered each character a tremendous grace note, one felt both by the characters but also the audience at home. When these people “flashed” to their Island lives, they didn’t flash to epic moments in Island history: they flashed to empty jars of peanut butter and freshly picked flowers and all the small moments that make up a relationship.

If the show had to get one of three aforementioned elements right (character, mythology, plot), then it absolutely focused on the right one. As of this moment, writing in the immediate aftermath of what I just saw, I could care less about what happened to Kate and Company once they left the Island. The point of the show seems to be that what you do is less important than the meaning behind what you do. And moreover, if you live those lives in the correct manner, then the specifics are null and void. In the end, you arrive at the same destination. (In Richard’s case, you arrive there with newly graying hair, and the chance to actually buy the eyeliner you’ve long been accused of using.)

Now, let’s talk about that sideways destination itself. If put on the spot, here’s what I think we’re supposed to take away from it: As Island Protector, Hurley envisioned a way to give a gift back to those with whom he shared his time on the Island. Mother had her style, Jacob had his style, and Jack had his extremely interim style. But placing Hurley in ultimate charge of the Island? Brilliant, and not just because I predicted this last Fall and am happy I got at least SOMETHING right.

He’s the absolute perfect person to take the Island from what it was (something to be protected) into what it should be (something to be shared). In a show full of selfish people, Hurley is the epitome of unselfishness. Go back to the pilot episode: he’s distributing food on the first night (including a double dose for Claire, eating for two at the time). In “Everybody Hates Hugo,” he once again institutes a massive redistribution of foodstuffs. In both the Island timeline and sideways one, he uses wealth as a means to help others, giving away his cash rather than hang onto it. So having him established as the final Protector of the Island that we see (though, I imagine, not the final one by any means) worked for me.

What I imagine did not work for a LOT of you is the fact that we’ve spent one-half of the final season of the show watching events that would have been solved in “LA X” had Haley Joel Osment been on the flight. It’s a feeling that I have sensed coming for a while: the sideways world was doing such a damn good job of providing emotionally resonant moments that it eventually turned into an overwhelming attractive option for both the characters and the viewers. In fact, it turns out that the major players had absolutely no problem moving on once they made their emotional connections/breakthroughs, and instead willingly moved onto whatever lies on the other side of that white light.

As such, I look at the sideways world now as something created by Hurley (with Ben’s help) as a stopping ground for all major players in the “Lost” universe to meet at once, irrespective of when or how they died. As Christian says, there is no “now” over there. Time is just a relative construct created by people who are used to seeing events progress in a linear manner. What does Hurley ever want? For his friends to be happy! So what does he do? Well, he doesn’t build a golf course, he builds a space for them to somehow connect after shuffling off their mortal coil and all end up getting the moments of happiness that eluded them, making connections that had been previously missed, and getting forgiveness once thought impossible. They don’t have to be alive to have these things matter once achieved in the sideways universe, which is why I was behind the ultimate explanation 100%.

In the end, electromagnetism had nothing to do with the sideways world. There was no Faustian bargain between Eloise Hawking and The Man in Black. I’ve spent the second half of the season (ever since “Happily Ever After”) arguing that theory, and I’m delighted to be wrong. Why? It’s easier to buy “Hurley’s gift” as a reason as opposed to trying to throw Schroedinger’s cat as a reason for the sideways world. And that “gift” yielded scene after scene in the sideways world that reminded us all why we care so much about this show: its characters. I’m sure everyone had their particular favorites: for now, I’m putting Sawyer/Juliet in the pole position with Charlie/Claire as a surprising second. I’ll take scenes like this over lengthy exposition of the true nature of the glowing cave any day.

It’s obviously easy to say, “Well, the characters are happy, so we should be happy.” But clearly it’s not that simple. After all, these characters are fictional, constructs of the writing staff, whom I am sure went into hiding knowing that there would not only be questions but flaming torches/pitchforks aimed their way once this episode dropped. If we didn’t care about these characters, then there wouldn’t be such anger. Either you read interviews and now feel deceived, or you’re generally displeased that our characters are all dead. I’m not going to tut-tut you from that perspective, since it’s your perspective and you’re totally welcome to it.

To me, anything in the sideways world ended up being something of a bonus, both a meta-level and a narrative level. The show didn’t do the one thing I prayed it wouldn’t: negate the sacrifices and deaths on the Island timeline for some sort of reboot/do over in the sideways timeline. So, we got to see really interesting combinations and remixes of existing characters in unusual settings, with those settings driven by a combination of subconscious psychological desires and latent psychological holdups. (Kate sees herself as the innocent victim, rather than an actual killer, but is still on the run. Sawyer fashions himself a do-gooder, but is still unable to shake the memory of his parents. Jack invents a domestic life he never had, inserting a new body in his life in the form of a son to replace the father he could never find.)

On a character level, the sideways world allowed these characters the chance to let go in ways that they were unable to do in their actual lives. To fault the show for creating such a space when we have so often lamented the unfairness or abruptness of their deaths seems a bit hypocritical to me. For example, let’s take Sun/Jin. Many howled when they died, unable to believe two seasons apart boiled down to one episode; many others noted that it didn’t move them, due to the couple being alive in the sideways world. Turns out, the sideways world gave them another chance to “be together,” as the latter group suspected, but also honoring the sacrifice that tore up the former. I’d love to call this win/win, but I’m not sure I’d get many takers on this.

Let’s take another example: John Locke. Here’s a man that died a potentially pitiful death in “The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham,” only to have his life honored and vindicated in the finale. Without inspiring Jack, the good doctor doesn’t return to the Island, and never becomes Protector, and never stops The Man in Black, and never passes off the torch to Hurley who in turn creates a special world in which Locke not only gets to have the relationship with Jack they never had on the Island, but also gets to forgive his murderer. I could give a flying fig about the other people on the outrigger if I get payoffs such as this instead.

And, as many of us suspected, the show closed on a familiar image, in a familiar place. Some might find fault with the heart of the Island being so near the place where the show started, but if The Island has taught us anything, it’s that looking and seeing are two different things. Charlie couldn’t “see” his guitar until he chose to give up his drugs. The cave is no different: Jack couldn’t see it until he was ready to see it. That’s the work he had to do all along. By bookending the series around a man opening up his eyes to the unknown and closing them as a man who learned what it meant to truly live, “Lost” encapsulated its’ primary thematic concern: what it means to live and learn through other people. They lived together, and none of them died alone. Not in the end. Perfect.

I’ve tried to thematically address the biggest issues/ideas of tonight’s episode. I realize I am short on specifics, but I also realize that there’s probably a huge need on your part to talk about this episode as quickly as possible. So I’m going to end things here, but know that this is just the beginning. Over at Zap2it’s Guide to Lost, we’re going to spend all week looking back at this episode, and by extension, the series itself. Next week, we’ll be continuing our look back at this ambitious, epic, emotional, imperfect, messy, glorious, unique show. I look forward to hearing your comments below, and I look forward to continuing the discussion with you further over on the blog throughout the week.

[monstersandmaw]

Heads up, there's a mega dose of familial prejudice against a non-human partner in this one. It's still got a good old fluffy ending though, because it's me...

I intended it to be much shorter, but the story ran away with me and I cared too much about the characters to keep it to my original 1-2k word plan. It's 4131 words.

I really hope you enjoy this one. It's been a while since I've done one with a female monster and a male reader, so I'm sorry. This one is another Patreon exclusive, but the next one will go up on Tumblr a day later.

When the reader's sister announces her wedding date, and he brings his orcish girlfriend to their small-town wedding, things get heated. Luckily for him, Khara is one chilled out, open-minded, awesome orc.  

---

Chunky Preview

Her hand was on your thigh in a brief, chaste, affectionate squeeze the moment you’d climbed into her car. “How was work?” she asked in her husky, rich voice and you short circuited for a moment just seeing her again.

You’d only been dating for a month or so, but Khara had proven to be quite possibly the best thing that had ever happened to you. Admittedly you hadn’t actually told anyone back home that you were dating a six foot four orc, but you figured you’d get round to it at some point.

She’d introduced you to her family within about the first week, and you were already part of the clan it seemed. Her little brother was asking you for CV writing advice and her twin brother had put you through a series of subtle (and not so subtle) tests to see if you really did care for Khara. Apparently you’d passed with flying colours and they’d all laughed when you’d looked like you were about to pass out when you’d been told about it all.

You sighed. “Work sucked, as usual, but it was easier knowing I was going to see you afterwards,” you grinned, and she rolled her eyes and smacked you playfully with the back of her hand and laughed. A moment later she was leaning in to kiss you, her short, thick tusks nudging against your cheeks.

“Come on. Let’s go grab a beer and forget about work.”

You swivelled in your seat and slid your bag onto the back seat, careful to avoid dumping it onto her photography gear which covered one of the back seats of her big 4x4.

Her hand fell back to your thigh as she drove out of the car park where she’d picked you up, and you tipped your head back against the seat and groaned. It wasn’t a particularly sexual gesture, but just the splay of her fingers across the muscle of your thigh was enough to get you to forget about your shitty manager and your stressful day. You laid your own hand down atop hers and squeezed her fingers gently in yours. “Thanks,” you murmured.

A second later, your phone rang and you dug it out of your pocket with a scowl. When you saw the name on the screen, your heart sank. “It’s my mother,” you sighed and she laughed.

“You gonna tell her about me yet?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows. The question was not barbed; she knew how your family felt about non-humans. To have their precious eldest child dating one would have horrified them. They’d never even met a non-human in the small, backwater town where you’d grown up, so goodness knows what kinds of stories they’d heard and believed over the years…

You answered Khara’s question with a roll of your eyes and then accepted the call. “Hi, mum,” you said flatly.

She chirped your name, berated you for not calling more often, and then launched into a barrage of very boring family information, dotted with the odd question directed at you. “Oh, and of course, I nearly forgot!” she added after about five minutes of continuous monologuing. “It was the whole reason I called you! Georgia has set a date for the wedding!”

“Oh,” you managed, without enthusiasm. Your sister had been engaged for over a year now with no wedding date set before now.

“You’ll be coming, of course,” your mother breezed. “So, she tells me that Charlotte and Maria will both be alone this year, so I can put you between them at the singles table,” she said.

“That’s a little ambitious of you,” you sneered sarcastically. “Both of them?”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she scoffed, more exasperated than amused. “I’m hoping that perhaps one of them will catch your eye. It’s been such a long time since you brought that lovely Kate home… I do worry for you, you know?”

“Actually,” you began, but then froze. ‘That Lovely Kate’ had in fact turned out to be a deceptive, cheating nightmare, but your mother had never accepted that for some reason.

“What? Don’t tell me you have someone?” she squealed. “Oh darling! I’m thrilled! I can’t wait to meet her! What’s her name?”

You swallowed thickly and shot Khara a glance. Her eyes twinkled and her lips twitched up into a smile that instantly became a shit-eating grin when she saw the look on your face. “This is it, isn’t it?” she mouthed and you nodded. “Go on then.”

You put your hand over your phone and hissed, “She’s not going to be pleasant about you if I tell her you’re an orc…”

“I don’t care,” she said, waving her hand and returning her brown-eyed gaze to the road. “I’m not dating her, I’m dating you…”

In a whisper, you said, “I love you,” and then turned back to your mother. “Well, her name’s Khara,” you said. “We’ve been seeing each other for about a month now.”

“You’ll bring her along, won’t you?” she said immediately. “Oh I’m so excited for you. I thought you were never going to bring another girl home…”

“Mum, please, I’m in my twenties - I’m not some washed up old fart!” you said and got a bark of laughter from Khara beside you.

“I know, I know, but your father and I were married and expecting you by the time we were your age…”

You sighed. Here we go again, you thought. And sure enough came ‘the speech’ about how she’d been so worried that you’d remain a bachelor forever or that - god forbid - you might even be gay… The way she said it like that just pissed you off - so fucking what if you had been dating another guy anyway? - but a squeeze from Khara’s hand on your thigh again centred you and you took a deep breath.

“Mother, stop, please,” you interrupted. “I get it. You think I’m a hopeless loser.”

That earned a deep, almost feline growl from Khara and it was your turn to reach for her and sooth her. In her own way she was gently protective of you, even from yourself.

“You can’t be completely hopeless if you’ve found yourself a girl at last,” she laughed. “Tell me all about her.”

“Well, she’s a photographer,” you began and your mother made an unimpressed sound. Perhaps she’d been hoping for a doctor or something, but what the hell did it matter anyway? “And she’s an orc.”

Deafening silence thundered down the connection for a good five seconds.

“Mum? Still there?”

“I’m here,” she said tersely. “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope,” you said, making the word pop.

Khara was grinning again, fighting off laughter, and this time there was a feral glint in her eyes that spurred you on and gave you the confidence you needed.

“You’re not going to bring… bring an… an orc to your sister’s wedding, are you?”

“Yes,” you said firmly but quietly. “Yes mother, I am. Khara and I are dating, and you asked if I’d like to be there to support my sister on her wedding day. Khara will be my plus one.”

Read the whole thing, and gain exclusive access to monthly stories, the Orctoberfest with more orcs than you can shake a WoW game at, WIP snippets, polls, character bios, and our private Discord server right now!

[ladymdc]

Wandering in the Dark

Well, I finished it.

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x F!mage Trevelyan (Noir AU/dark future/1930s) Rating: Explicit (for occasional smut, like 3 instances) Word Count: ~75,500 Chapters: 19/19 Summary: In a world on the verge of collapse, C.S. Rutherford did what he could to survive, at least until a routine case led him down a path he never expected to cross, and a dame with dark verdant eyes and a sharp wit strode into his office.

With nothing as it seemed, including her, perhaps it all wasn’t as hopeless as he thought.

Read it from the beginning - here & I have included CH.1 under the cut for funsies. ((For those who have been keeping up with it, I’ve included a direct link to the CH18 & I’m sure you can find the final chapter from there :D))

Special thanks to the following people: @laraslandlockedblues​, @windysuspirations​, @kawakaeguri​, @machatnoir​, @softlyue, @fadetastic​, @laurelsofhighever​, & @mssaboteur​ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ I may not talk to all of them every day or at all anymore, but I wanted to say thanks for supporting/encouraging me in some way at some point in this journey. I sincerely couldn’t have done this without you. 

The Resistance was irretrievably over; everything that could have been done had been done. He had never thought they would succeed, only a fool would believe they could, but he had never thought he would live to see the day the last Theirin was wiped from the face of Thedas.

This wasn’t the first time such rumors circulated, but it would be the last. Front and center on today’s paper was undeniable proof. The Theirin family crest affixed to the lapel of Amladaris’ suit jacket was a subtle but devastating blow to anyone still clinging to hope the Golden Age would someday return.

It had been over a decade since he last saw Alistair, but the loss stung no less for it. Perhaps even more so knowing the last words spoken to the man he once called a Brother were venomous and full of resentment. Now, there would never be an opportunity to correct that wrong, but it wasn’t like he had been going out of his way in an attempt to do so anyway. All that was left was to hope Alistair’s death was quick and painless. Though based on the sinister curl of Amladaris’ lip, it was anything but.

The thought did nothing for the migraine that had been plaguing him all morning. In addition to the throbbing tendrils taking root deep in his skull, there was also a slight halo around objects, a shimmery haze that wasn’t precisely seeing double but close enough to be an annoyance. It was one of those post-lyrium side effects he’d long since come to terms with. Once the coup took place, it was either risk injecting a tainted dose or quit.

It was an easy decision.

Automatically, he popped some aspirin into his mouth, swallowed it dry and reached for a cigarette. He tapped it twice on the desk and tucked it into the corner of his mouth before he brought the cupped lighter up, despising the slight tremor of his hands. He smoked in long, steady pulls. Repeatedly, his gaze dropped to the newspaper before him then at his watch to read the time as if it would somehow make it move faster. Eventually, the pounding in his head subsided only to be replaced by the telltale click-clack of high heels.

His interest was instantly piqued, and it had nothing to do with the shapely silhouette he could discern through the frosted glass. A lot could be determined by someone’s gait. The speed and force of their steps and the sounds it produced could indicate a wide array of emotions. This client didn’t possess the terrible wrath of a woman wronged nor the hesitant curiosity of one who suspects. She appeared to exude an air of calm indifference. A rare thing in a world gripped by fear and ruin.

Then, without one iota of hesitation, the door opened.

The woman was beautiful; her wavy, brunette hair smooth and shining. Her full lips an agreeable shade of ruby red. Her dark verdant eyes boldly held his gaze. Something flashed in their depths, green and bright, but then she blinked, and it was gone. One corner of her mouth lifted lazily.

“Rutherford.”

He could feel a sudden heat on the back of his neck at the way his name rolled off her tongue but was determined to pretend it wasn’t there. Her accent was Marcher, mixed with something else he couldn’t quite place.

She shut the door and took a seat in one of the two intentionally uncomfortable, wooden chairs before him. The woman looked at him expectantly.

Rutherford cleared his throat and mashed his cigarette into Amladaris’ left eye. “It seems I’m at a disadvantage, Miss—“

The marginal quirk of her lip became almost amused. “Trevelyan.”

His gut locked up; bile burned in his throat. Rutherford pressed his finger and thumb into the corners of his eyes. Trying to stamp out the visions swimming through his mind. It had been three years since Lord Protector Sethius Amladaris took control, and not a day went by that he was reminded of his unknowing role in the coup.

Having the propensity to keep his head down and work, he took notice something was off much too late. By the time Hawke stormed into his office to scream scathing accusations of his involvement, the damage had already been done. Lyrium tainted with Red had been injected into a majority of their ranks at evening rations. Red not only warped the mind but after the first hit, there was no turning back for without it there was only death. With only one source for the terrible substance available, turning the Order against country and crown was simple.

Only those with rank were given a choice. General Trevelyan was the first to refuse. Rutherford, the second. The difference, however, was only he lived because by way of answer, Rutherford put a bullet between Major General Stannard’s Red-tainted eyes.

Meeting the late General Trevelyan’s daughter’s inquisitive stare, he scraped his bottom teeth over his top lip where the scar from escaping the ordeal was. There was a brief flash of prickling numbness. He immediately regretted drawing attention to it as her eyes briefly roamed over his mouth. The room suddenly felt far too warm. It would be easier not to make eye contact, but it would be cowardly to look away.

Rutherford yanked on the knot of his tie to loosen it. “Why are you here?” It came out much harsher than he would have liked.

She ignored the outburst. “I have use of someone with your talents.”

“Talents?” He scoffed, fishing out another cigarette. The dregs of his migraine were flaring up with force.

“Yes, talents,” she insisted.

Twice, he tapped the cigarette on the desk. “And what might those be?” As far as he was aware, failure and survival were his only ‘talents.’ He had an odd propensity for both.

“We both know why you keep checking your watch.”

Despite the seriousness of her insinuation, he couldn’t help smiling. “And what makes you think you know anything about me?” He asked before fitting the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

“Are you sure you want to play this game?” she asked, plucking off some unnoticeable piece of offense from her charcoal grey skirt before returning her dark green eyes to his amber. “Because I do know everything about you.”

Rutherford leaned back in the chair and crossed ankle over knee. “Please.” He blew his smoke out defiantly. “Do tell.”

She smiled tolerantly though his cigarette smoke. “Cullen Stanton Rutherford, the second eldest child of four. Mia, the eldest, your brother Branson, and Rosalie the youngest. You joined the Royal Order the day you turned eighteen. At twenty, you took your first lyrium dose, and your parents died that same year as the Blight ran rampant through the countryside. Then came Kinloch—”

“Enough,” he gritted out. A breath hissed out of him, and he turned his head to avoid her piercing gaze. It took a while before he noticed the dull ache in his jaw from clenching his teeth as he glared at the newspaper displaying the result of his most devastating failure.

“He’s alive you know,” she said, tipping her chin toward the paper.

“No shit.”

Trevelyan made a sound that could have been a laugh. “Don’t be thick.”

“I’m not. I—“ He sat up a little straighter when Trevelyan suddenly stood but didn’t rise as he should have.

“You are,” she insisted as she braced one arm on the desk and leaned over. Her long, flowing locks fell over her shoulder. The scent of her, sweet and floral with notes of something akin to spring rains, wafted his direction. Briefly, it overpowered the smoke thick in the air around him. Rutherford was momentarily struck a little dumb by it.

The motion of her hair drew his attention away from her face toward… other assets. The neckline of her white blouse cut dangerously low and there was little for him to do but glare at her when she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. He knew what she was doing, and he hated it worked so easily, especially because he jumped a little when the silk of her glove brushed his fingers.

Smirking, Trevelyan placed his cigarette between her lips and tucked something into his hand. The metal was warm, and he errantly wondered how warm she’d feel, but then his thumb reflexively ran along the familiar grooves.

His stomach bottomed out. “This could be any coin,” he snapped, holding the silver and gold coin between finger and thumb for emphasis.

“It could,” she agreed. “But it isn’t. Did you know you’re bleeding?” With the cigarette pointing down and held between thumb and middle finger, she touched the very tip of her nose.

Rutherford scrambled to find a handkerchief, but his shirt was already ruined. While he attempted to clean himself up and staunch the flow, she took one long drag and held the cigarette back out to him. He hesitated to take it, distracted by the bright red imprint of her lips upon it.

After a moment of inaction, she leaned forward and placed it between his slightly parted lips and a quiet thrill ran through him at her forwardness. The faint taste of her only served to agitate him further, and she knew it.

That semi-amused curve to her mouth was back. “I can always find someone else, so come along or don’t, it matters not to me. Either way you have your luck back. Perhaps that’s all that’s been missing all these years.” At that she buttoned a single button on her jacket, further accentuating the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts, and departed.

The woman never even hinted at what she wanted from him. Like the eye of storm, she was serene and a tad refreshing, but then left chaos and destruction in her wake. His mind was positivity reeling at what she vaguely suggested as he was left with far too many questions and not a single answer.

Rutherford owed Alistair his life. If it weren’t for the Wardens, he would have rotted in Kinloch. At the time, he felt there was nothing to thank them for. The mistakes he made were too grave, the horrors endured too fresh, and his wounds still weeping. Time healed the latter. The former two points, however… Well, they never left, and only more had been added over time. But if there was a way for him to take something he fucked up and make it right, he shouldn’t still be sitting there.

He snuffed the cigarette out on Amladaris’ right eye. There were few things he needed to grab, all within reach. Smokes, lighter, jacket and his emergency bag which contained an assortment of necessities and a good deal of cash should the regime ever care to come after him again. Within moments he was able to rush after her.

“Wait! I—“ he came to a grinding halt at the sight of her leaning against a car expectantly.

“Well, that didn’t take long did it?” Her voice was full of dry amusement.

He scowled. “Shut up.”

“And here I thought you’d be glad to see I waited.” Trevelyan’s pout shifted into something openly appraising as her gaze blatantly raked up his body. “I know I’m glad to see you’re interested.”

He was blushing. Knew he was blushing and the laziest smile he’d ever seen blooming across her lovely face did nothing to alleviate it. Rutherford pinched the bridge of his nose because that… that was dangerous. His entire body had heated through, and it had everything to do with the way she seemed to know how to push all of his buttons.

She laughed then, a high and bright sound that made his hand drop reflexively. Her smile widened a little when their gazes locked once again. His heart was racing, and he was confused as to why.

“Alright grump,” she chirped, opening the passenger door. “Get in. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

Her laughter and choice of address were unexpected, and he felt himself breathing out a small huff of amusement as he stepped off the curb and reached in to toss his bag into the backseat. “What did you just call me?”

“Grump.”

“No. Don’t. I don’t like it,” he said, voice muffled from trying, in vain, to wipe away the stupid grin stretching across his face as he stood straight. The smile felt odd, maybe because it felt real.

“Are you sure? It seems like you do very much.”

What he did like, oddly enough, was how her standing on the curb put her almost face to face with him. “I really don’t.” He shook his head, smile finally fading away. “Preferably Rutherford, or Cullen if you must.”

“Alright, Cullen,” she said very slowly as if savoring the feel of his name in her mouth. She extended out a gloved hand. “Preferably Evelyn, or Trevelyan if you must.”

It took him a moment, almost a moment too long but he accepted. It wasn’t a handshake, it was something else, and it bothered him. He abruptly pulled his hand back and clenched it into a fist at his side to prevent himself from wiping it off on his pants.

Her expression shifted. It was subtle, but Rutherford breathed a little easier at the hardness in her eyes for the last thing he deserved was anyone’s warmth or acceptance no matter how much he may want it deep down.