#it's a shame i have to do a significant amount of research for a part of this fic huh

[miggylol]

Hi! Long time liker, occasional reblogger, first time asker piping up to ask what your favorite Rimworld mods are! I just picked it up and am enjoying it so far, minus getting wrecked by rabid squirrels an embarrassing amount...

OH BOY LOL ARE YOU IN FOR A LONG ANSWER

First off: I am someone who takes zero shame in enabling Development Mode, so my subscriptions are big on adding complexity to the game while being able to address things spiraling out of control with a panic button. If you're not into that, I would ramp up slowly with these.

Putting behind a cut, because again: long.

For context, though they're not all currently active, I'm subscribed to 268 mods. ...I am not going to recommend them all.

Here are some favorites I would recommend for starting to round out the game. I'm grouping them up into significant vs. smaller QoL improvements. If you enjoy a mod, I would highly recommend going to your subscription page and checking out that modmaker's full workshop to see what else looks fun. That's how I discovered most of these.

Big Deal Mods

Harmony - a framework mod required by a lot of other mods.

HugsLib - same deal. Use autosort with your mods, and these will get moved up to the top where they need to be.

Humanoid Alien Races - and another framework. Needed for a bunch of new race mods, e.g. if you want Star Wars alien races. (I'm sure someone's made that somewhere.)

Hospitality - you can host visitors from other factions, improve relations, and even convince the visitors to join your faction.

Expanded Prosthetics and Organ Engineering - exactly what it says. A huge new range of options to buy/craft, from very low tech emergency options to very powerful upgrades.

Pawnmorpher - quite possibly the inspiration for Biotech, and in some ways I still prefer parts of it to that gene system. (But I do have a bunch of fun playing with genes.) You can upgrade pawns with fur for their boreal home, or downgrade them all the way into mindless animals.

Ambition of the Cosmic - adds a bunch of high-tech research tiers above and beyond the core game.

Glittertech - adds a bunch of new tech and gear, along with a new faction (commandos) who pose a strong lategame threat. They'll ignore you until you're worth their while.

Misc. Robots - this came well before the Biotech mechanoids, and here, I clearly prefer it. It requires research and materials (or buying from a trader), but you can get mindless hauling and cleaning robots that let your pawns focus on more important tasks. They're available in different tiers for speed/battery life.

Misc. Robots++ - adds the other types of robots (crafting, cooking, etc.). I enjoy setting up a custom starting scenario with one rich, pampered explorer and a bunch of robots.

Prepare Carefully - lets you super-customize your pawns for the starting experience you want. I use this (and the next one) to craft myself a group of pawns from [some fandom] and watch the chaos develop.

Character Editor - I actually use this one a lot more. It's a great way to change the basics of individual pawns at any point, and can also adjust their health conditions. I refuse to let some beloved pets bleed out! (The pawns themselves... whatever.)

More Vanilla Biomes - obviously only applies for newly-generated worlds, but these are some interesting new conditions to deal with. I'm a big fan of grasslands and cloud forests.

Dubs Bad Hygiene - adds hygiene/bladder needs. This will make the early game harder, as your pawns deal with being miserable and filthy. As you are able to take better care of them, you'll instead see them with mood buffs from being nice and clean, enjoying the swimming pool and hot tub, etc. I don't know why, but I love this mod to pieces. Lol.

TD Enhancement Pack - DOWNLOAD THIS ONE, IF NOTHING ELSE. All this shit should be in the base game.

Quality of Life Mods

Metals Trader - adds an orbital trader that's the best place to find certain materials. Not a big deal if you like to play mountain bases, very useful elsewhere.

Smarter Deconstruction and Mining - should avoid your pawns bringing down roofs on top of themselves.

Faction Customizer - yep. What it says. You can easily make other factions your allies or enemies.

Variety Matters - pawns expect a certain level of variety in their diet, based on colony wealth. Like with Hygiene, it'll be more challenging early on but can add buffs later.

Tier 2 Temperature - you can research additional temperature control devices.

Vanilla Plants Expanded - also look at Oscar Potocki's Workshop linked at the top of the page. Vanilla _______ Expanded is a MASSIVE collection he's created, and there's a shitton of neat stuff in there.

Healer Mech Serum Choice - you can pick which condition it's used on.

Stockpile Ranking - I put this as a QoL mod, but honestly, it's pretty core to how I play. You can prioritize different stockpiles, so—for example—I can set medicine to critical inside my infirmary, and rest assured that it'll be placed there instead of over in the general spillover warehouse. (While still allowing myself lots of room to store all of the different types of medicine I have access to with all of my mods.)

Tilled Soil - with effort, your pawns can turn any growable soil into fertile soil.

Prisoner Harvesting - :)

Incident Person Stat - get a feeling for what sort of stranger you're dealing with, so you can avoid admitting a pawn being chased by maneaters only to discover they're a pyromaniac.

Apparel Tainted Only When Corpse Rots - it's so much easier to clothe your pawns in early game with this.

Bad Can Be Good - re-balances some bad traits and gives them tradeoffs.

VGP Vegetable Garden - again, linking for the workshop at the top. Tons of mods for new crops, etc.

Ore Yields - yep. Adjustable.

Tradeable Meals - another way to make money, if you're flush with crops and meat.

Tech Advancing - you can customize when you move up to the next tier (e.g. Industrial -> Spacer).

Smarter Construction - get this one. Your life will be much less frustrating.

RimHUD - a nice redesign of the pawn info window.

Lightning Rod - once you have the resources to spare, storms become much less of a threat.

Replace Stuff - yep. Replace it without dismantling the old one, first. Terrific for situations like, say, upgrading your freezer walls to something non-flammable.

OgreStack - adjust stack sizes for all items. Get this one.

Medical Tab - adds a tab where you can see everyone's medical conditions at a glance. Check this workshop, too; there are other good tabs you can add.

Mad Skills - adjust learning speeds, slow or turn off knowledge decay, etc. Very useful.

Map Designer - you can set specific conditions (e.g., maybe you want a fuckton of ruins, or mountains at a certain angle, or a river so wide that it's nearly impassable). You can also reroll a map to get variations on its core features. Love this mod.

Adjust Quest Chance - there are some quests I hate and will never accept, and others I'd want more of. I can go in and adjust my chances accordingly.

Quick Stockpile Creation - so simple. So nice. The very definition of a QoL mod.

Underground Power Conduits - and finally: NO MORE UGLY WIRES EVERYWHERE.

Okay, as mentioned, this is just a small fraction of my subscriptions, but... I am sure it's more than enough. More. Than. Enough.

[ancientmyrddin]

we have achieved peak dark souls brain rot

[softtransbf]

Mister Nice Guy, part 1

Summary: You’re new to the BAU and get along well with everyone, almost. You can’t figure out why the infuriatingly handsome Dr. Spencer Reid seems to hate you so much.

Word Count: 2222

Reader: Trans man, he/him pronouns, no physical description.

Warnings: Alcohol, brief description of a case and therefore murder. Nothing graphic.

(Part two)

~~~~~~~~~~

It was your first day at the BAU, and you were so excited. It took all of your willpower not to skip from the elevator to your new boss' office. You definitely caught a sideways glance from an incredibly handsome man with very expressive eyebrows, but you didn't let it concern you; you'd worked too damn hard for too damn long to let anyone bring you down today. You got to the door and knocked sharply. 

"Agent L/N, please, come in," came a voice from inside the room. You took a deep breath and walked through the door.

You'd heard stories about Aaron Hotchner and the BAU- everyone had. Most people only heard the good parts- the heroic tales, the happy endings. But you liked to be prepared, to know the truth of what you were going after, so you'd also paid attention to the quieter whispers. The imposing boss who never smiles, the weird and maybe-pseudo-sexual relationship between the exuberant tech analyst and one of the profilers, the betting pool on whether or not the two female profilers were secretly gay for each other, true crime writer extraordinaire and profiling legend David Rossi leaving retirement to mostly be snarky, and the young agent with multiple doctorates who is smarter than seems humanly possible. You would never admit it, but you were particularly eager to meet the genius. He guest lectured once in your friend's linguistics class your last semester before graduating, and xe wouldn't shut up about him for an entire week. When you told xem that your transfer was approved, xe begged for "a full rundown on what he's like up close and personal" after your first case. But first, you needed to meet with SSA Hotchner.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. 

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." You thanked your lucky star that your voice didn't shake.

"It's a pleasure to have you. I heard nothing but the best about you from your previous supervisor. Officially, all the paperwork has gone through for your transfer, but I would like to ask a couple of questions before we get started." 

"Of course, sir. What would you like to know?" One corner of his mouth ticked up slightly for a fraction of a second, and you counted that as a major victory.

"First and foremost, why are you interested in the BAU?" You relaxed slightly; you'd prepared for this question.

"Human behavior is nothing short of fascinating. Everyone is shaped by a unique set of experiences, but at the end of the day, we all behave in documented patterns. Everything matters, because it shapes who we are, but also nothing does, because we all end up in one of a finite number of 'shapes', so to speak. No one is the same, but we all exhibit set behavioral patterns. No matter what someone's gone through, at the end of the day, they are still understandable and predictable. I find that absolutely fascinating, and the work that the BAU does with that is incredible. I want to be a part of it, and I have the skill and drive to do so. After all, the BAU essentially wrote the handbook for Crisis Negotiation."

"That is a very interesting perspective, agent." His face was neutral, but you detected approval in his tone. "I only had one other matter to bring up- I see two different first names in your paperwork, and two of your references refer to you with different pronouns. Which name do you prefer, and what are your pronouns?"

You were floored; you'd never had a supervisor so casually look past paperwork outing you. "Y/N, sir, and he/him/his."

"Wonderful. Well, Y/N, welcome to the BAU. Let's go meet the team, shall we?" You nodded and followed him out his door into the meeting room, where the rest of the team was assembled.

"Everyone, this is Special Agent Y/N L/N. He has just transferred from Crisis Negotiation."

"Oh! New guy! Hi hi hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, just call me Penelope, and I do all the tech-y, research-y stuff." She made her way across the room to you as she spoke, talking with her hands.

"Pleasure to meet you, Penelope! I love the look you're rocking, by the way. Those shoes in particular are magnificent." You knew you were being the gay sterotype that you'd spent your career trying to avoid, but shoes that good could not go uncomplimented.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" she said to you before stage-whispering to the rest of the team, "I like him! Let's keep him." The team laughed, and you blushed. It seemed that Hotchner had wordlessly passed on the duties of making the introductions to her, because she pointed to the agent closest to her, handsome-guy-with-the-eyebrows from earlier, and continued on. 

"Okay, so, this is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, but we all call her JJ, David Rossi, and Dr Spencer Reid." They all nodded, smiled, and/or waved slightly when they were introduced, with the exception of Dr Reid, who looked almost like he was looking at a puzzle. You chalked the feeling in your gut it gave you to first-day nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, and I look forward to getting to know you all better as time goes on." You were addressing everyone, but something about the way Dr. Reid was staring at you made it difficult to look away from him for too long.

"Wonderful! Now, as much as I wish we could all chit-chat and get to know Y/N better, we do have a case. Last night, a body was found in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park."

The case was interesting, twin injustice collectors, one more mission oriented, the other interested almost entirely on experimenting with different forms of torture on the victims. The former, over the weeks between kills, had started dating one of the local detectives, neither of them knowing of the other's involvement in the case. You were there when that information came to light at the killer's arrest, and you were able to diffuse the situation, ensuring that no one was harmed.

On the flight back, Prentiss insisted on the whole team going out for drinks to welcome you to the team. Hotchner declined, because he needed to get back to Jack, and Rossi said he had "plans with Tony Bennett", but everyone else agreed, mostly enthusiastically. It took significant persuasion from JJ to get Reid to agree to go out with you all. For the whole case, he was abrupt and distant with you, despite your best efforts. You knew it was silly, but you really wanted your coworkers to like you, so you decided you were going to do your absolute best to get him to like you by the end of the night.

-

"Hey, doc, first round's on me. What'll it be?" You'd noticed during the case that he shrugged off all of your attempts to start a conversation, but you figured that even he wouldn't ignore you under these circumstances.

"Uh, white wine would be great, thanks."

"White wine? At a dive bar? Does this bar even have white wine?" You'd intended to be charming, but, seriously, white wine? Who was this guy?

He opened his mouth, clearly indignant, but he was interrupted by Morgan chuckling from behind you both.

"That's why we go to this dump, newbie. It's the only bar in the area that serves white wine, which is all Pretty Boy here drinks." He winked at you and playfully elbowed Reid in the ribs.

You threw your hands up in mock surrender and chuckled. "Okay, okay, white wine for the good doctor it is. What's your poison? I'm sure word's gotten around that the first round is on me."

"You know, I might have heard something about that, and I most definitely wouldn't say no to a dirty martini." He winked at you, and your chuckle turned into full-on laughter.

You got the bartender's attention and ordered their drinks and a Jack and Coke for yourself. "It's a damn shame you're straight, Derek. Truly a crime against queer men everywhere, although I'm not so proud I can't admit that I'm a bit glad you're not competition."

"Wait wait wait, how do you know I don't like a little meat on the side?"

"So, sidestepping the fact that not all men have penises and some women do, you are so hetero that it's almost painful. Look around; men of all shapes and sizes outnumber women 2 to 1 at least. But you've spent the whole night making eyes at those women over there." You pointed to a table on the other side of the room. "Plus, I may or may not have received a very detailed string of texts from Penelope that essentially amounted to a crash course on all of y'all. I get a feeling that she might like me a little bit."

"My bad on the meat comment- I'll definitely fix that. And speaking of Penelope being a font of information, she's been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about you. What's your big secret, new guy?"

You raised an eyebrow and sipped your drink. "All you need to know is that Hotch, who strikes me as even more protective of this team than he lets on, which is really saying something, knows, and he cares less than any brass I've ever met. And I know for a fact that if Penelope thought it was concerning, she'd have at least voiced some suspicions about me, if not told you outright. I'm not ashamed of it, it's just none of y'alls business. Anyway, the blonde from the table you were eyeing earlier is coming over to see if we've been flirting this whole time so she knows whether to flirt with you or gush about how she's always wanted a Gay Best Friend oh my god. If I'm still here, it'll be both, and I'm allergic to that particular brand of cishet nonsense. Have fun, good-lookin'." You chuckled and patted him on the shoulder as you left, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Reid roll his eyes, down his drink, and walk in the other direction. What is his deal? Whatever. I'm not about to let him wet blanket all over tonight. You took out your phone and sent out a couple of quick texts.

[To: Penelope]: Thank you for not outing me. It means the world to me. Let's get brunch sometime?

[To: Nerd <3]: you sure Reid seemed pleasant when he lectured? that has Not been my experience with him so far. you were right about him being Cute cute, though, damn. a Gay could get lost in those big brown eyes, and in different circumstances I'd climb him like a tree. shame he's Like That lmao

Looking up from your phone, you saw Emily and JJ nearby, so you went over to join them. 

"Oh em gee Y/N you're gay? I had, like, no idea! We should, like, totally get brunch and then go shopping! This is gonna be so much fun; I've always wanted a gay best friend!" You rolled your eyes and laughed at Emily's terrible Valley Girl accent. "Unfortunately, I did not spend my time in the closet learning anything about clothes. I only dress halfway decently for work because my friend dragged me to the mall and updated my wardrobe when I applied for this position. It's all xir doing."

"Well, xe has excellent taste." You mentally filed away JJ's effortless use of neopronouns.

"I'll be sure to let xem know! I'm so down for brunch, though." You checked your phone. "Looks like Garcia is too!"

"Damn, you work fast. You'll fit right in here," Emily laughed.

"Honestly, I'm a little bit blown away by how awesome and welcoming you all are. Well, mostly. Is Spencer like this with every new person, or did I somehow do something to offend him?" Emily and JJ shared a look you couldn't quite read before JJ answered.

"Spencer…" she hesitated, "He's going through something right now. I'm sure he'll figure it out soon, and things will smooth out." 

So you waited. Weeks passed, and you fit in well with the team. You ended up getting close to Derek and Penelope in particular, and you kept trying to make nice with Spencer. Weeks of cold shoulder and as few words as possible to you while being his normal, verbose self with everyone else. So, three weeks into your new job, on a night out with Derek and Penelope you made a decision.

"Look. It's been weeks, and the guy still won't say more than 5 words to me. I'm done trying to… I don't know what I was even trying to do," you slurred, you’d probably had one drink too many. "Make a friend, maybe? I don't even know. But I'm done. He wants to give taciturn bordering on rude? Then that's what he'll receive. Let's see how Pretty Boy likes a taste of his own medicine. No more Mister Nice Guy." You wouldn't remember the look they shared until much later.

And so, your silent war with Spencer truly began.

[worlds-shortest-astronaut]

Why continuing to support Ateez might actually be important/helpful for preventing cultural appropriation in the future

I would like to preface this by saying that I am a person of colour but I am not black. I can and do empathise with black Atiny though I also acknowledge that I cannot fully understand how this affects them. Pain and hurt is always valid and the black community have suffered in ways most of us have not. 

At the same time, I am really sick and tired of ‘cancel culture’ and the lack of nuance when discussing issues such as cultural appropriation. They prevent us from having useful discussions and facilitating change. So let’s break down this issue:

The problem: In a promotional photo for their next comeback, Kim Hongjoong, the leader of Ateez, was styled with cornrows. This is a case of cultural appropriation. 

The response: Fans emailed KQ Entertainment asking for this hairstyle to be changed and KQ responded saying a) this was not done with conscious effort to appropriate/insult another culture, but that they did it to fit with the concept, b) they cannot re-make any of the content that has been completed for album promotions, c) they will ensure that Hongjoong will not wear this hairstyle during album promotions and d) they will apply what they have learned to future comebacks and ensure that this will not happen again. 

Reasons why KQ Entertainment was in the wrong:

Entertainment companies need to start putting resources into educating themselves and their artists. All you need is one (1) person who’s job it is to go over concept ideas. I don’t understand why RESEARCH INTO CONCEPT IDEAS AND THEIR ORIGINS isn’t an industry standard to begin with.  It’s like when you’re writing a fictional story - you DO RESEARCH INTO STORY ELEMENTS. That should be a standard part of creating a ‘concept’ or styling any artist - where does this idea come from? is it COPYING or PLAGIARISING anyone? is it CULTURAL APPROPRIATION? 

So, yes, KQ Entertainment made a grave mistake. Furthermore, their blunder is just the latest in a LONGGGG series of cultural appropriation and racism in K-pop. On top of that, this is a racially-sensitive time. 

I did initially wonder why Hongjoong, who is an activist for multiple platforms and is very aware of how carefully they must navigate different cultures, didn’t point out that cornrows were not appropriate (esp since San said the members were very involved in this comeback). However, we have to remember that Hongjoong exists outside that culture, lives in a country/works in an industry that is notoriously racist/colourist, and would have seen other groups use that hairstyle (esp for Summer comeback - KoKoBop and Boom ring any bells?). I didn’t fully understand the problem with non-black people wearing cornrows (i just thought it was distasteful, fake and try-hard) until someone pointed out how every aspect of blackness has been stereotyped and criminalized. This is NOT something that most people are taught. 

Reasons why people need to FUCKING SETTLE DOWN:

KQ Entertainment’s swift response to their fans was INCREDIBLE. Let me ask all you kpop multis: what did SM do in response to Kai’s dreadlocks and Chenle’s cornrows? There was no explicit apology. There was no attempt to explain themselves. There was no promise to change their behaviour in the future.

KQ Entertainment has shown that they are open to change and education. They have taken action in response to people calling them out. They have apologised for their actions and explained why changes to completed promotional changes cannot be made. 

And now people are complaining that KQ haven’t done enough, sending death threats to Hongjoong and generally spreading a disgusting amount of hate. 

Listen, regardless of how large an entertainment company is, it is highly unlikely that any of them would change promotional material that has already been completed this close to a comeback date. The money and time that requires is ridiculous. It would require pushing back the comeback date. A small company like KQ, whose world tour was recently CANCELLED, cannot afford to do that. And you may criticise them for choosing money over a ‘more important issue’ but let’s discuss how significant this issue is and the best way to facilitate change. 

So we all agree that this is cultural appropriation and that cultural appropriation is bad. We also all agree that KQ has apologised and agreed to make feasible changes. Our response should be to welcome those changes. 

If people just keep criticising the company and ‘cancelling’ them for their choices, then it becomes clear to the WHOLE INDUSTRY that trying to change things and negotiate with fans becomes pointless. They’re going to lose support regardless of what they do. This ‘all-or-nothing’ response is ridiculous. 

Sensationalism and social media have made it really difficult to have a conversation that doesn’t involve two extremes at opposite ends of a spectrum. In reality, most issues should be viewed on a spectrum, in shades of grey. Responding with aggression and hate, labeling a company and their artists as racist because they’ve appropriated one aspect of a culture and publicly shaming them doesn’t help. 

Anti-racism doesn’t mean being an “anti-fan”. EFFECTIVE anti-racism means calling out racists acts (which we’ve done), asking for change (done) and drawing attention to positive behaviours and alternative and reinforce these (WHICH WE ARE NOT DOING).

We have to give KQ Entertainment CONSTRUCTIVE criticism in response to their changes in order for them to recognise that THEY ARE DOING THE RIGHT THING. 

Complications: The Harper Bazaar photo shoot - Hongjoong’s hair is styled in braids/cornrows for that photo shoot. It suggests that he was going to have that hairstyle for the majority of their promotions. However, these are still part of promotional material had been completed prior to the teaser photo being dropped. KQ Entertainment truly did not have the time to change it. 

Yes, it looks bad. Yes, KQ Entertainment fucked up. But unless we continue to support Ateez and give them constructive criticism that they can REALISTICALLY APPLY, change will not occur. This is a first step. WE have given Ateez and KQ the opportunity to set a NEW PRECEDENT for the industry. WE have given Ateez and KQ to set a NEW STANDARD.

They can ONLY do this if WE continue to support them and give them a chance to SUCCEED. 

(P.S. - if you’re sending hate to Hongjoong [and there HAVE been death threats] you are cruel and mean as well as implicit in preventing his education)

[maudsleyhealth]

You Shouldn't Ignore These 11 Eating Disorder Symptoms

What is the definition of an eating disorder?

Eating disorders are more widespread than many people realize. Lady Gaga, Zayn Malik, and Demi Lovato are just a handful of famous people who have struggled with eating disorders.

Recognize the signs and symptoms

Some eating disorder symptoms are obvious: significant weight loss, unwillingness to eat, and long lengths of time spent in the restroom after meals. Anorexia, bulimia, and binge eating disorder, on the other hand, manifest themselves in subtler ways. 

How do you know if a family member or acquaintance is in danger? Because persons with eating disorders show a wide range of symptoms, there is no guaranteed way of knowing. (Not to mention personal characteristics: Eating disorders, which were historically virtually exclusively connected with adolescent girls, are now seen in younger children and adults as well.) 

These easy-to-overlook symptoms, on the other hand, may help you detect an eating disorder or a disorder in the making, earlier.

Body image issues

According to Cynthia Bulik, PhD, an eating disorders specialist at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, negative or obsessive thoughts about body size, a critical element in all eating disorders, can emerge very early in the disease. 

Negative self-talk ("I'm so fat," "I have no self-control") and misinterpreting other people's comments are both warning signals of poor body image. "Comments like 'My, you've filled out well' can be misinterpreted as 'You look big," according to Bulik. 

She goes on to say that young girls' body insecurities might emerge or worsen when they compare themselves to idealized figures like Disney princesses and supermodels.

Excessive exercise

Excessive exercise behaviors, often known as "exercise anorexia," can accompany disordered eating and appear to be on the rise, according to Bulik. It can be difficult to define "excessive" exercise, especially when dealing with athletes or highly active young individuals. (Female athletes had a greater rate of eating disorders than non-athletes, 14 percent against 3 percent, according to a 2013 study of high school students.) 

Here are a couple of red flags: Does the individual become anxious if they miss a day of exercise? Is he or she a gym rat who works out even when wounded or sick? "These are really excellent indicators," Bulik argues, "that things have gone too far."

Fear of eating in front of others

Feeling uncomfortable or self-conscious about eating in public might be linked to body image concerns; for example, a person may believe that others are observing and judging them. 

However, it could simply indicate that eating has become stressful in general. "For someone with an eating disorder, eating can be extremely anxiety-provoking," explains Bulik. "Doing it in public only adds to the magnitude of the task." 

Although not wanting to eat in front of other people is a defining feature of anorexia, it can also be a symptom of other eating disorders. "Even persons with binge eating disorder would eat very little amounts in public and binge when they are alone," adds Bulik.

Fine Body Hair

People who have been starving their bodies for a long time acquire soft, downy body hair that resembles a thin film of fur on their arms and other regions of the body. Lanugo is a physical adaptation to the dangerously low weight and loss of body fat that some persons with anorexia experience. 

According to Bulik, author of The Woman in the Mirror: How to Stop Confusing What You Look Like with Who You Are, "it is a symptom of malnutrition and [an] attempt by the body to keep itself warm."

Preparing extravagant meals for other people

Even though persons with anorexia may avoid food themselves, they are often eager to watch others eat, and will go to great lengths to arrange sumptuous dinners for friends and family. This may be a type of vicarious enjoyment, or eating "through" others. 

The renowned Minnesota Starving Experiment, which took place in the mid-1940s, revealed similar results. Semi-starved volunteers who lost more than 25% of their body weight became fascinated with food and eating. Several of the males became cookbook and recipe collectors, a habit that has also been observed in anorexics.

Dry Skin

Dehydrated skin that is dry and blotchy can indicate chronic anorexia or bulimia. "Regular purging and laxative use might dehydrate you severely," Bulik warns. In persons with eating disorders, dry skin isn't the lone sign of dehydration. 

Dry lips, sunken cheeks, and eyes, as well as severe electrolyte imbalances, are all possible side effects. The formation of calluses on the knuckles is another skin modification that is a telltale indicator of bulimia. 

These lesions are known as Russell's signs (after the psychiatrist who first reported them), and they are created by continuously rubbing the back of the hand against the teeth while vomiting.

Feeling cold

Feeling chilly is more commonly related to anorexia than bulimia or binge eating disorder, as it is a sign of malnutrition and low body fat. People with eating disorders are more likely to complain about being cold or to wear sweaters and other heavy garments even in warm weather. 

Body fat conserves energy and protects the body from the elements. People with too little body fat may struggle to maintain their body temperature, and in some situations, hypothermia may result. 

Cheeks Swollen

According to Bulik, swelling along the jawline is most commonly related to bulimia, although it can also occur with any eating disorder that involves purging. (Some anorexics purge to maintain their weight.) People with bulimia, unlike those with anorexia, are frequently of normal or even above-average weight.) 

The enlarged salivary glands cause puffy cheeks (parotid glands). According to Bulik, edema can occur at any stage of the sickness and is dependent on the person and how often they purge. 

Getting fixated on'safe' food

The hallmark of the condition known as orthorexia is a fixation with foods thought to be "safe" or "healthy." According to Bulik, orthorexia can occasionally be a stepping stone to full-blown anorexia nervosa, even though it is not an official diagnosis. 

Although those with orthorexia focus on food quality while those with anorexia focus on quantity, the two illnesses can sometimes overlap. Anorexics, for example, have an extremely restricted diet and prefer to consume the same items over and over again. "Cutting out things they used to like, or even entire food groups, is one of the early indicators of people developing an eating disorder," Bulik adds.

Rituals in eating

Eating disorders can cause compulsive behaviors similar to those seen in obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Food can be sliced into tiny bits or arranged in certain patterns as part of these so-called rituals. 

They're most commonly connected with anorexia (which frequently coexists with OCD), but they can also be an early indication of binge eating disorder. According to Bulik, rituals are "both a tactic not to eat and an element of the obsessionality connected with anorexia nervosa." "When eating disorders first emerge, people often try to make it appear as though they are eating by chopping things up and rearranging food on the plate to hide how little they are eating."

Unusual food combinations

Binge eaters are noted for combining unusual ingredients in recipes like mashed potatoes and Oreo cookies, or potato chips with lemon, pork rinds, Italian dressing, and salt. People who make their own food concoctions are more likely to binge than people who simply overeat, according to a recent study. 

However, this conduct frequently occurs in private and provides yet another source of shame for the individual with the illness. According to the study's authors, guilt and disgust might intensify the illness.

Maudsley Health Eating Disorder Service

At Maudsley Health, what services do they provide?

Maudsley Health an Eating Disorder Treatment Clinic in Abu Dhabi believes in providing gold-standard, evidence-based care, and all of the therapies they provide follow the National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE) 2017 recommendations. 

Dr. Victoria Mountford, our Joint Head of Eating Disorder Service, has spent the last 20 years specializing in eating disorder research and treatment in the UK and has been involved in the development of both CBT-ED and MANTRA (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy – Eating Disorder) (Maudsley Anorexia Nervosa Treatment for Adults). Our experts will discuss with you which treatment will best fit your needs during your assessment.

Family-Based Interventions for Young People with Anorexia Nervosa

They work with the young person and their family to help overcome anorexia utilizing family therapy combined with expert eating disorder knowledge, based on the Maudsley Model Family Therapy – Anorexia Nervosa (FT-AN) created at the Maudsley Hospital in London. They look at how the sickness has affected family life as well as behavioral changes. 

Cognitive Behaviour Therapy – Eating Disorder (CBT-ED)

CBT-ED can be used to treat any form of eating issue. It entails creating a tailored therapy plan that tackles any harmful thinking patterns, emotions, or behaviors that have emerged. It can also help with issues including low self-esteem, perfectionism, and having a negative body image. CBT can also be used to treat ARFID in children, adolescents, and adults.

Maudsley Anorexia Nervosa Treatment for Adults (MANTRA)

MANTRA is a modularized treatment for anorexia with a workbook to go along with it. It focuses on anorexia and explores sustaining elements such as emotional and relational challenges, problematic thinking habits, and parts of identity. 

What can I do if someone in my family has an eating disorder?

We understand how scary and difficult it can be to have a son, daughter, partner, or another family member with an eating disorder. You may be concerned about what to say or do at home as a result of your eating issue. 

Parents are sometimes concerned that they will be blamed. Families, we believe, do not create eating disorders, but they are critical to rehabilitation. We like to include family members or carers in the therapy process whenever possible (working with you and your loved one to decide how best to do this).

What can I do as a teacher or school counselor?

Because eating disorders usually begin in adolescence, teachers and school counselors may be in a good position to identify and raise concerns. Eating disorders can make it difficult for a youngster to focus and study, as well as participate fully in school or university life. 

They may isolate themselves and avoid mealtimes. People do not recover from eating disorders on their own, according to research, and the sooner they seek help, the sooner they can begin to recover.

Where can I learn more?

Maudsley Health will be delighted to discuss the next steps with you. Please call (+971) 2610 7777 to schedule an appointment to discuss your options.

[mneiai]

Re-Imagining Jedi Apprentice: Melida/Daan

For those of you familiar with this, I’ve been attempting to re-imagine Jedi Apprentice in a way that allows me to still use the significant parts of the backstory, but doesn’t make the Jedi look absolutely awful. Melida/Daan is a major part of it, in that it makes the Jedi look horrific while also being a really popular part of Obi-Wan’s backstory (because him having a past as a child soldier puts a very angsty spin on the Clone Wars and the child slave soldier thing).

This can be found on AO3, as well, along with prior parts of this ‘series’, along with in the tags on my blog. I will not be taking any criticism about how I, an abuse survivor, should ignore abuse in JA because it’s a “common YA trope” and apparently if bad things are common in fiction that means...we should ignore them or something wtf is wrong with people.

Melida/Daan:

An Outer Rim world that has suffered through around two centuries of civil war between the major ethnic groups of the Melida and Daan. Each generation perpetuates the idea of vengeance and payback, encouraging their children to continue the fight after their deaths, and the only real art or culture they have is monuments to dead warmongering relatives/ancestors.

The Melida/Daan Mission:

In JA, Jedi Master Tahl is sent to help wtih negotiations between the two sides, but is kidnapped and tortured by one of them. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are sent to rescue her. They bumble around and are saved/helped by Cerasi, a member of a group called the Young.

We learn that the Young are children of both sides of the war who don't agree with the fighting and want it to end. They're living in catacombs connected to the sewers and barely surviving. Cerasi, at 13, is one of the older children. She helps them get to Tahl, providing all the info they need as well as a necessary distraction and then they take Tahl back to the Young hideout.

Obi-Wan, having a lot of empathy and obviously horrified about the situation these kids are in, wants to help them. Qui-Gon insists that they must follow <i>only</i> the mission directive and do no more. Eventually, Qui-Gon takes Tahl to their ship (and I should mention, they were age mates and he's kinda obsessed with Tahl, it's creepy) and Obi-Wan, as the Elders (older adults) are bombing the Young, insists he's staying. Qui-Gon goes back to the Temple, leaving a 13 year old Obi-Wan, without even a lightsaber, in the middle of a civil war.

Obi-Wan and the Young would go on to win the war (with the help of the Middle Generation) and setup a new government run by the leader of the Young, Nield, with a Council that included Obi-Wan and Cerasi. Except that Nield wants to destroy the signs of the old culture of Melida/Daan while others want to focus on rebuilding. Tensions run high. Cerasi is assassinated by Mawat, another member of the Young, to try to reignite war and kill off the Elders that remain.

Chaos erupts and Obi-Wan has to beg the Temple to send help. Qui-Gon comes back to Melida/Daan, has the Elders make peace, and reluctantly takes Obi-Wan back to the Temple, though not as his Padawan.

The Melida/Daan arc is Not A Good Look. And it continues to be Not A Good Look the entire rest of the JA series, wherein Obi-Wan gets blamed and shamed when he eventually returns to the Temple, even by his friends, for "abandoning" his Master, and gets reprimanded by the Council itself. Qui-Gon faces no consequences for leaving a 13 year old, his Padawan, on probably one of the worst planets to leave someone on in the known galaxy.

Much like the first novel, which people can trace directly to them disliking Yoda and the Order, the fallout from Melida/Daan is something people often cite as a reason they dislike the Council and especially Qui-Gon.

How To Keep Melida/Daan But Not Make The Order Look Like Negligent Monsters (Again):

Jedi Master Tahl is sent to help negotiate peace between the Melida and the Daan, who for the first time in centuries have agreed to an outside negotiator present, which is taken as a good sign from everyone. While there, a "terrorist" attack leaves her injured. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are sent to assess whether she needs to be evacuated and for Qui-Gon to take over negotiations if she can stay. At this point Obi-Wan is 15 and has been Qui-Gon's apprentice for a few years.

Both the Melida and Daan are blaming each other for the attack, but upon investigating, the Jedi find that the actual attackers are very contrite members of the Young--Tahl wasn't even supposed to be where she was when the bomb went off, the building was supposed to be empty, and was meant to show the Jedi that things on Melida/Daan were not as "peaceful" as they appeared.

The Young are mostly orphans, ranging from around 18 down to little kids, living in catacombs under the city and traveling through sewers, still. They're barely getting enough to eat (especially for growing children), but if they get caught by the adults they'll be sent to factories and work camps to continue the war effort (ones that, as part of the peace deal, were supposed to be shut down already). Qui-Gon agrees that this needs to be investigated more closely and allows Obi-Wan to continue speaking to the Young, who trust him more since he's a fellow child. He gets more and more attached to them and their cause as he does so.

Tahl has a setback and must be taken to Coruscant for treatment. Obi-Wan refuses to go, scared that without a Jedi presence, the Melida and Daan might restart hostilities or go after the Young. Qui-Gon reluctantly agrees to leave Obi-Wan behind, after sending out a message to nearby Knights and finding one in the vicinity who could make it there in less than a day to take charge of the mission, temporarily, and act as a guardian to Obi-Wan. The Melida and Daan have made lots of overtures that they want peace and will continue to hold their truce.

Except basically the moment Qui-Gon is out of the system, the war starts back up. The Knight never makes it to the surface, shot down in the atmosphere, and Obi-Wan is left living with and fighting beside the Young to survive.

Back on Coruscant, we get a sign of Senate interference as they stall any missions back to Melida/Daan. Qui-Gon is frantic (as anyone who cares about Obi-Wan would be), enough that he goes to his mostly estranged Master for assistance. Dooku is near leaving the Order, partially from Sith interference/influence and partially because of the Senate corruption and the way the Order just bows to their whims.

Meanwhile, on Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan realizes that help isn't coming after a few days with no signs of more Jedi and throws himself into working with the Young to try to stop the war. They know the terrain, the Melida and Daan tactics and weaponry, and Obi-Wan has studied various conflicts and battles already in his education as an Initiate and Padawan. The Young starts making real progress against the Melida and Daan, who were unprepared for how well-organized the Young are (and some of the Force tricks that Obi-Wan has learned have been helping, too).

The Council eventually goes behind the Senate's back, sending Qui-Gon on a mission to nearby D'Qar to collect samples for a Temple researcher, with a very long allotment of time to do so. Qui-Gon, of course, heads to Melida/Daan, managing to land because the Young had destroyed most of the planetary defenses after finding the wreckage from the Knight's ship. He finds the Young far more organized and regretfully more militant, and a wary Obi-Wan. With Qui-Gon back, the Young allied with the Middle Generation, and the Elders' infrastructure mostly destroyed or co-opted, they finally sue for peace talks again.

Mawat and some of the other Young still don't want peace, they want to punish the Elders for all the horror and pain they've suffered, and Cerasi is caught in the crossfire when they attack the talks. She dies in Obi-Wan's arms, becoming a martyr for the peace on Melida/Daan.

A council is setup initially to rule, with representatives across the age groups and an equal amount of Melida and Daan. The Senate finally sends another representative, a beauracrat who will oversee the formation of the new government, and Obi-Wan leaves with some small peace of mind, despite his grief.

After the trauma and chaos of the Melida/Daan mission, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are given a break to recuperate. Their first mission after is a "cake walk" mission to witness the peaceful transition of governments to a young Duchess on Mandalore. It is, of course, not.

[cosplayinamerica]

ARTIST ALLEY : BurntGreenTea

Here at Cosplay in America, I am expanding who I interview to those in the convention scene. Today we will talk to BurntGreenTea who I met in artist alley at Ikkicon, an anime convention in Austin, TX. BurntGreenTea is from Northern California and as stated on his Deviant Art “Hey, my name is Nelson! I like to draw waifus”

EJEN : My first question is why BurntGreenTea? 

BURNTGREENTEA: That’s actually my second handle I came up with, I had an embarrassing name before so I wanted to change into something more ironic and more “me” in a name. so I’ve been going as BurntGreenTea ever since. I do drink matcha alot!

EJEN: Tell us how you got started in artist alley, what was your first one and what was that experience like?

BURNTGREENTEA: I started getting interested in doing artist alley at my first Fanime Con back in 2007 as a one day attendee when I was still in high school.

I went with my best friend at the time and it blew my expectations of what a convention was, especially the artist alley since it completely opened my mind that there’s artists actually selling fan art. But I didn’t commit to it until 2012, just when I was in my 2nd year of college.

By that time, I had enough digital art and felt confident that I could do it. Fanime still had the application process of first come first serve (meaning those who apply the earliest will get a spot), so I was fortunate enough to apply fast enough to get a table!

For a first time experience it was nerve-wracking before, during and after the con. But there was something to it that really sparked my interest; and I think there were people that legitimately liked my work and bought them.

EJEN: Was there a point that you went “yeah, this could work” and you made the jump to traveling out of state for artist alley?

BURNTGREENTEA: It was about one and half years after I graduated from college, between that time I worked in a job that was soul sucking but I had many of my colleagues working at, and then after I was applying to animation studios, gaming companies, etc while I was doing commissions and artist alleys at the same time.

It went on like this for almost a year. By this point I felt like I really hit my lowest and felt a great shame that I couldn’t find “stable” work. My parents didn’t really support me doing artist alley during this time since it’s not legit work and it’s more like a fun hobby I can do on the side, all the while I have colleagues and friends who have jobs in the animation or gaming industries. I felt extremely lost, and wasn’t sure the direction I wanted to go in life, so my parents encouraged me to go back to school to get a “safe” degree or trade.

But there was something I knew in the back of my mind that I couldn’t see until I had a meet up with an old friend. She was confident, happy, found her dream job that paid well and she enjoyed the work, and she was completely honest and blunt. When the topic came up of me being lost in life, she asked me, “what did you want to do then?” and I told her honestly, “I really just want to do artist alley and make that work.” “Then just do it.” So I did.

EJEN: After all the time you spent in artist alley, what’s the most important factor that an artist must understand to do decently in sales

BURNTGREENTEA: Research research research. It’s basically “knowledge is power” but breaking down as knowing your audience, yourself (what you enjoy, your strengths and capabilities) and learning new trades while breaking old habits.

EJEN: Can you go more in detail about research, research, research?

BURNTGREENTEA: So this reflects back on my previous answer, so know the convention you’re going into, what you can offer, what’s your budget, everything that would make your experience at the convention you’re getting into a great experience.

I have heard many stories of artists not breaking even and even I had bad experiences due to inaccurate/outdated information or inexperience. For example, there was a first year event that had a $1000 table price tag and promised to bring in 5000 attendees.

This was going to be my second event/convention to table at, so I had no idea what it was going to be like and decided to go for it. It ended up having less than 100 attendees, and I lost a significant amount of money. So now I have to get as much info as I can get to make the convention viable to go to.

EJEN: How do you describe your style and how has it changed if any over the 14 years you’ve done art? What were some of your earlier influences.

BURNTGREENTEA: Right now I can say it’s pretty much anime style, but I can say there were several phases I went through. Looking through my Deviantart gives a great timeline all the way back to middle school until recently.

When I initially started I was getting into anime thanks to friends, so I was very much influenced by Naruto, Full Metal Alchemist, and Gurren Lagann. Then in high school I started to do more digital art, eventually creating artwork bigger and grander just like the artists from Fanime I admired.

When I finally started my education in my art program in college, I started getting the proper training in lighting, form, and composition. This time period my pieces were more western-influenced, like more realistic faces and body proportions, but there was something missing in it that I wouldn’t understand until after I graduated. It’s around the same time when I wanted to do artist alleys full time that I was more true to myself in the style and got more flashy, more colorful and composition.

EJEN : How do you decide what Alley to apply for. What’s your personal criteria for conventions to do artist alley at? 

BURNTGREENTEA: Local cons are usually easy for me to decide to apply for due to the cost being low(transportation, housing, etc). If there’s anything that involves flying out of state, I have to factor in much more information about the con, personal experiences from other artists, and if it is viable for an anime fan artist to break even and also turn a profit. Usually big conventions like Anime Expo and Otakon are the must go to conventions for their huge attendance numbers.

EJEN: Describe to me a typical day in the Alley!

BURNTGREENTEA: Due to the times right now, it seems like almost a dream to be in an artist alley, haha. Here’s a usual day of being in the Alley: Waking up early to get ready, getting breakfast and caffeine before heading inside a convention.

Usually getting there early, either me or some art friends would walk around the Alley and check out other artists before it’s open to the public. There would be some art friends I made along the way that I can catch up with briefly, chatting about the next shows or projects. I would have probably stayed up kinda late working on physical commissions and would need to go back to my table to continue finishing them up.

When the Alley opens up, it’s mostly engaging and talking with familiar customers or friends, while also working on commissions during the down times. Friends would go on food or snack runs, and I would get an hour to go shopping during the day somewhere as a break.

By the time it ends, it would have felt like it had gone in a flash. But with heavy eyes but our hearts full with a day accomplished. If we had the strength, we would check out an event or explore the convention hall abit more to absorb the atmosphere. Getting dinner with friends after a job well done, while we have another day to look forward to spending time with fans alike.

It’s really nostalgic to reflect on a typical day to be in the Alley, and having to have that all stop for almost a year now.

EJEN: Since the pandemic, how are you coping with this change both personally and business-wise?

BURNTGREENTEA: I was honestly hoping conventions would come back around at the end of May, but that never happened so I had to approach things differently. Luckily I had a freelance gig that I was working part time, so I had a semi-regular income on the side while I applied for virtual conventions and commissions.

It was tough since I wanted 2020 to be the year I would do the most conventions ever but that plan derailed. I also focused on my online shop and my social media presence, which so far is paying off!

Like everyone this year took a mental and physical toll, but I also ended up working on more projects and digital work to help keep me distracted.

EJEN: What are your plans for the future, what are you working on?

BURNTGREENTEA: My goal is still to go back to doing conventions, but at the moment I’m going to give that a pause. Currently I have a contract job that’s ending soon, and I have something that’s NDA that might come up, crossing my fingers! That’s the near future, but for the time being I want to refocus on learning new things and refining my art since I’ve gotten rusty.

EJEN: Finally who is your waifu?

BURNTGREENTEA: My waifu is Lucina from Fire Emblem!

Visit BurntGreenTea’s Etsy!

[elexica]

Always Tomorrow

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433880

A gift from a while back to @alectoperdita​; part of my AU-Gust 2020 Project; and it’s about time I cross posted it to Tumblr. Summary:  Joey is a tattoo artist who specializes in Duel Monsters and scar coverage. Kaiba is a walk-in client. Tags and Trigger Warnings:  Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, AU-gust 2020, ygocollablove, Scars, lot of talking about scars, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, BUT only about the scars, Pre-Slash, but there is SO much yearning, Hurt/Comfort, but honestly mostly comfort, oops all comfort Full fic under the cut:

. . .

“Tell me something. You ever felt this way? The burdens of this life, they've really got a way of dragging you real far down to the ground.”

-          “Master of My Own Mind” by Best Coast

. . .

“We don’t take walk-ins,” Joey said.  His shirt was rolled up to the elbow, revealing intricate tattoo sleeves.  A Red-Eyes Black Dragon screamed around his forearm, moving back and forth as he handled the cash register system.  Kaiba’s eyes lingered on the smooth lines of the wings paired with the sharp forms of the scales.  And that wasn’t the only eye-catching ink that Joey was sporting—Kaiba was entranced by a series of watercolor scapegoats and kanji trailed down his neck and disappeared into the plain black shirt that read “Eat, Sleep, Duel Monsters.”  

Kaiba’s eyes widened. “But this is a tattoo parlor.  And I saw your picture on the website, you’re Joey Wheeler.  I like your work.  Is there anything that would prevent you from completing a tattoo at this time?”

“Company policy,” Joey shrugged, revealing the tip of Flame Swordsman’s flaming sword, poking out from under his collar.  “We can’t just drop everything for everyone who wanders in.  There’s a system.” It must be a very large piece, Kaiba reasoned, given the size of the flame.  He wanted desperately to see more of it.

“Name the price.  I can pay upfront.”

Joey shrugged again. “I’ve got a schedule, man.”

Kaiba removed his credit card, placing the heavy material on the glass countertop.  The glossy black card opened many doors for him.  An assortment of rings for various piercings were posed in black velvet in the case beneath.

“You are clearly not busy.”  

Joey looked offended and went back to logging inventory.

Kaiba was not a man who was skillful in pleading���but he was more than capable at negotiation.  The card clicked threateningly on the counter as Kaiba impatiently tapped it.  

“Fine.  Are you available for a consultation?”

Joey smiled warmly, recognizing his own victory.  “Now we’re talkin’, c’mon back.”

Kaiba followed obediently, gawking over the large sigil of the millennium eye that all but glowed at the nape of his neck.  The longer blond strands of his hair brushed against the icon’s upper eyelid.  

The hallway turned into an actual, honest-to-god office, which was the last thing Kaiba expected. Joey pulled out a sketchbook as he leaned against his black desk.  Joey waved one hand for Kaiba to sit, a swirling monochrome haze behind the image of the cartoon time wizard with his little scepter.

“So, what are you thinking? You’re tall as hell, so there’s plenty of canvas!” Joey laughed, all sunshine and shiny white teeth.  

Kaiba’s cheeks burned as he drummed up the will to answer the question.  “In my research, you have something of a specialty in scar cover-ups.” Kaiba was not a man who would cower in his own shame.  But the thought of baring himself completely, his secrets and those eternal marks of his loss, for this stranger… it stung at his dignity.  He needed to do something today, or he would lose the will.

Joey’s smile dimmed compassionately.  This was not going to be a routine intake appointment.  He prided himself on careful and clever scar coverage, but those appointments usually took on a different tenor.  Few people have scars from positive experiences, and the raw intensity of Joey’s client gave the clear impression that it would hardly be a routine appointment.

“I do,” Joey swallowed, “So, what are we working with?”

It was such a simple question.  Kaiba adjusted the cufflinks on his wrists nervously.  He had promised himself he wouldn’t be ashamed.  There was nothing that he had done wrong.

He wished Mokuba had come with him.  It was his idea in the first place.

Joey was suddenly very close, just inches away.  “Hey, it’s alright.  Take a breath.”

Kaiba did not want to obey his command, but he couldn’t resist a sharp intake of breath.  He released it slowly, as if to prove a point. He wasn’t freaking out.  

“For a lotta people, tattoos that cover scars transform a person’s relationship to their body, and to what happened to ‘em.  It can be part of the healing process,” Joey said, slowly.  The sheer volume of his empathy weighed down his words and made them linger in Kaiba’s mind.

Transform.  Happened. Healing.

Kaiba continued to take long, intentional breaths.  The scars burned at the back of his neck and across his back.

Joey reached out a hand towards Kaiba’s face before thinking better of making contact.  The hand froze there, suspended close to his cheekbone. It was then that Kaiba realized his eyes were leaking tears.  Joey had moved to wipe them away.

This whole event was too humiliating, Kaiba thought.  And he couldn’t do it.  

“This was a bad idea,” Kaiba said, sucking in enough air to straighten his back.  He bore a hole in the wall with his eyes, trying to absorb any collateral moisture.  

“Hey, for a lotta people, it’s a part of reclaiming your body, after something hard,” Joey curled his fingers around the hem of his shirt and revealed a gnarly scar just above his right hip.  It was composed of a lot of smaller cuts, webbed together in a semi-circle. The raised skin had been left exposed, with dashes of black woven in to create the swirl at the center of the “Polymerization” card.  The only colors were those of the orange dragons swimming around the vortex in their own lazy waves.  “It was for me.  My friend Yugi did this one.”

Joey reached out, and slowly took Kaiba’s hand.  

“It doesn’t have to cover the whole thing, if you don’t want it too.  See!”

He drew Kaiba’s hand in, softly bringing Kaiba’s fingertips to his skin.  Kaiba’s arm was entirely tense, and he could have pulled back at any time.  But he couldn’t resist—the curiosity bubbled within him.  The pads of his fingers skimmed over the scar tissue in its randomness, and the disciplined smooth black stripes emanating from the twisted center.  Kaiba was almost shocked at how warm Joey’s skin was.  He wanted desperately to touch more, but when Joey dropped his hand, Kaiba withdrew it.  

“Alright, I showed you mine.  You feelin’ up to showing me yours?”  Joey’s grin was so painfully warm.

Kaiba couldn’t help but nod. He began to unbutton his shirt. Button by button, Kaiba kept his breathing steady by force of will.  The rise and fall of his chest felt especially vulnerable with his buttons undone. He moved to his cufflinks.

“Ah, shirt’s fine, but ya gotta warn me if the pants are comin’ off too!” Joey said with a gentle laugh. Joey’s eyes were undeniably glued to Kaiba’s abs, which made Kaiba’s breathing even more fragile.

Kaiba paused, fingers fumbling with the cufflink on his right hand.  “It… just my shirt.”  Kaiba spent his life speaking in eloquent sentences that drove investors to throw money at any idea that so must as sparked in his mind.  He gave talks at industry conventions that brought the consumer electronics world to its knees.  And he couldn’t force out a full sentence in front of this man.

“It’s okay,” Joey reassured. It didn’t feel practiced or put on. It almost felt like talking to a therapist.

Kaiba tugged off his shirt in one smooth move.  

Finally, it was Joey’s turn to have the wind knocked out of him.  

Kaiba braced for the inevitable questions.  Those long, deep, even lines across his back scorched under the other man’s stare. And the little lines at the nape of his neck seared.  The best lie that Kaiba had brainstormed on his way over was that it was a very bizarre car accident.  Kaiba stressed internally that perhaps Joey thought Kaiba had done this on purpose, though the mechanics would have been infeasible.

But, like a professional, Joey didn’t ask any questions.  He didn’t gasp.  He didn’t even gawk for a significant amount of time.

“Alright!” Joey said, perhaps a touch too upbeat.  “So, what’re we talkin’?”

Kaiba inhaled very slowly and began to replace his light blue Oxford shirt.  “You, clearly, appreciate Duel Monsters.”

“Ha!  Appreciate is a diplomatic way ta put it!  I’m one a’ the greatest duelists that Domino has eva seen!” Joey’s smile was back to beaming at full wattage, like he hadn’t just witnessed Kaiba’s secret torture.

Kaiba was determined not to highlight his position in Kaiba Corp.  The last thing he needed was this man to know everything—or make any educated guesses.  He was already trying to slough off the sensation of being pitied.  Still, he’d have to put this amateur in his place.  “I have been called the Prince of Cards, and was National Champion, but now is hardly the time—”

Joey put down the Duel Disk he had grabbed from a drawer in his desk.  “Yeah, not the time.”

Kaiba failed to suppress a smirk.  It was jarring how quickly this man could bring him back to himself.  “Anyway, I thought I could cover the… damage on the back with the Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon.”

Joey nodded.  “That sounds super sick!! But that is going to take a lot of planning.  And you want—”

“Nothing to show through. I was sort of imagining it in the style of a Yakuza boss.  Just very powerful.”

Joey looked up, imagining it in his mind’s eye.  “Alright, I can take down the information and draw up some sketches.  That would be a very expensive piece, and pretty time consuming for both of us.”

“Money is no object,” Kaiba stated, ice cold and prideful.

“Is there anything else you’re thinking of?” Joey asked.

Kaiba’s hand flew to the back of his neck.  “A very small piece of code.  I’ll write it down.”  

The pad was heavier than Kaiba had anticipated, and Kaiba almost trembled as he wrote out the phrase: “pid_t pid = fork();”.

“I have never done a tattoo like that!” Joey remarked. “This won’t fully cover the scar.”

Kaiba nodded sternly. “That’s fine.  It actually should go between the lines.  It’s a very specific piece of code: it’s the basic invocation of a ‘fork,’ which is how a program splits itself and spawns new programs. It’s critical to the function of any Linux system, anywhere.  One process starts when you boot up, and then it’s all forks from there.”

“Uh, ok.  And what does that have to do with you, exactly?” Joey raised an eyebrow, affecting a serious “thinking” face.

“I don’t believe in fate. I make my choices and I live with them. For me, it means that I am always at a new decision point, and I build my life on these decision points.  No one else builds it for me,” Kaiba looked directly into Joey’s attentive caramel eyes.  “And my past does not define me.  I am one fork away from a new program.  The next challenge.  A new life.”  

The explanation spread a smile across Joey’s face. “That would take me maybe, thirty minutes?  I could do it now, if you’d like.  In that spot, it would hurt like a bitch, but something tells me—”

“Pain is no object.”

“Yeah, right, so, if you’re still determined to walk out of here with a tatt, we can do that,” Joey said.

Kaiba smiled, just a tiny bit.  “I’d like that.”

 FIN

 . . .

“For me there's always tomorrow, even when I'm drowning in my sorrows. I gotta focus, gotta rewind, gotta stay the master of my own mind.”

-          Best Coast “Master of My Own Mind”

  The whole fic is really inspired by a difficult time in my life, and this really great Best Coast song, “Master of My Own Mind,” which everyone should listen to, because it’s very compelling.

Credit to my irl boy Jack for the coding tattoo idea that I don’t *think* has been done before! Without him, this would be “hello world” lol!

Like the boys with tattoos? You'd love Alecto's work, "A Fool's Puzzle" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464288).

Image credit:  Photo by Sebastian Voortman from Pexels Edits by me.  

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 5

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26475064/chapters/64957384

previous | next

5. will i float or will i drown?

This city is much too loud, they think.

A lone figure perches atop a very high apartment building in the middle of bustling towers of grey. Talosian cities are loud and busy and choked with smoke, and Bloodhound misses the serenity of the forest. They miss the lush green of the trees, the gentle hum of the insects and creeping things in the summer, the sound of birds in the spring. They miss the rushing of the water in the creeks near their village, the far-off howling of the wolves at night. But most of all, they miss the comforting memories of home, and of their mother. Their father. Their uncle, Artur. 

If they squint, they can almost pretend the bright lights down below are fireflies, flitting around to their own whims, bound by nothing. Free. Sometimes, they miss the simpler times, when life did not consist of killing, sleeping, and killing again. But they know that they have consigned themself to this life for a valuable reason, and they will not soon abandon it.

They try with all their might to remember life before Talos. Life before the IMC. Life before they watched their parents perish before their eyes. But they were much too young- they had only been a toddler when their parents took them to Talos for their research. They had only been four years old when they watched their father get swallowed by a raging rush of ice and wind and death.

The ice slows just the slightest bit before it reaches their house, but they are still screaming. “Father! Father! No! Allfather, protect him!” A great shattering, splintering roar engulfs the air as the ice impacts their home. The windows crack and heave, but hold their shape, by some holy miracle. They are swiftly picked up and carried away from the windows right as the cold begins to rush in. Artur holds them in his arms, but he too is sobbing, praying to the Allfather, containing the child’s beating limbs, but only just.

A chill passes down Bloodhound’s spine, a sinister echo of the anguish they had felt. It had been many, many years, but the images of the ice burying their father’s body would haunt them forever. The way they’d cried when Artur told them their mother was dead too… Bloodhound could sometimes still feel the dizzying shock and grief in all its initial potency. When they had heard the new arena would be on Talos, their heart dropped straight into their stomach. It felt like a horrific violation, a slap in the face that such a broken and painful part of their past would be on display for all to see, even if the spectators did not know the significance. Setting foot in Epicenter for the first time, knowing that this was where their parents had come to rest… That match had not ended in a victory.

The air around them suddenly feels stiff and unyielding. It doesn’t seem to pass through their mask and into their lungs the way they would like for it to. Bloodhound removes their gloves, followed by their helmet, letting their long red hair fall freely. They sigh and remove the elastic holding the top half of their hair. Their fingers run across their sore scalp, massaging the roots till they no longer ache. The round goggles follow the helmet, and after a moment of hesitation, so does the mask. I am alone here, they rationalize. No one will disturb me. They lie down on the ground and gaze at the stairs as their mind begins to wander.

Ever since Artur died, Bloodhound had never been comfortable with letting anyone see their face. The injuries may have healed, but silver scars still stretched across their skin. They had never been one to obsess over looks or vanity, but these scars held a deeper meaning, a deeper story that they did not want to be bothered about. Breathing had been extremely difficult following the accident, but as the years passed, they could go longer and longer without the respirator. Their goggles had assisted them since they were very young; their eyes were unusually sensitive, and the lenses were tinted to dull the incoming light. But under the stars, they do not have to worry, because those far off supernovas could not hurt them.

They close their eyes, feeling the mild night air on their skin. Today’s match had been a particularly invigorating one, one that they enjoyed immensely. Their squad had taken first place after a tense shootout with the last remaining team. All of their opponents had been strong and worthy of praise. A sensation they can’t quite place starts in their stomach and expands to their chest when they think of Elliott. It’s like crystalized electricity, crackling and sparkling as it travels up their spine. Elliott was… refreshingly different. They had never met such a loudmouth, but he was proficient in his skill, and they had to admire him for that. His performance has suffered greatly as of late, they think. When Elliott was focused, he could be an incredibly valuable asset to their team. But now, for reasons that were his own, he was distracted and forlorn. He was not as attentive as Bloodhound knew he could be. Taking him down in a match had never been a problem. They always did what they had to in order to win and honor their fight. They never hesitated when killing an opponent. 

Until today. 

Caustic’s gas chokes the air around them, and for a moment, they cannot breathe. But the Beast of the Hunt propels them forward. They swipe their hands through the mist and break free of the cloud’s envelope, regaining their stride. They breathe deep, reveling in the Allfather’s gift of strength, and sprint down the hill. Scarlet footprints stain the ground like blood, leading to another kill, another victory. Who is at the end of them? They do not know, but they do not care. They flip Artur’s axe in their hands, passing it back and forth, and they itch to throw it. Their prey becomes visible, highlighted red, and Bloodhound’s heart stops. 

It is Elliott.

Elliott hesitates for a moment, then raises his gun. Bloodhound pulls out their R-99 just as three Wingman shots connect against their head and chest. Their shields are down by a considerable amount, but they persist, and unload an entire clip into the top half of Elliott’s body. His shields are ripped away, and he dives behind a storage crate just as Bloodhound reaches him. They back off briefly, waiting and watching to see what will happen. Elliott runs off to the side, but no- it’s not him, it’s surely a decoy. The real Elliott jumps out from behind the crate, his back facing them. A brief flash of something- pity, maybe?- runs through their brain, but the hesitation is gone, and they fire the next clip of ammo into his chest as he turns around.

He falls to the ground, his head hitting the dirt with a painful thunk. A strange feeling takes hold in Bloodhound’s chest- a mixture of triumph, adrenaline, and sorrow. As their Ultimate fades away, so does the rush of aggression, and a feeling of remorse replaces it. Elliott lays on the ground before them, bleeding and battered, quickly fading away. Their heart constricts painfully in their chest at the sight of him, and they flip Artur’s axe once more. 

“Fyrirgefðu mér,” they murmur. They do not want to do this, but they must. 

A flash of silver, a spattering of blood, and Elliott is gone. 

Bloodhound finds themself clutching their chest, right over their heart. The discomfort of all of the conflicting things they had felt comes rushing back, splashing around inside them like children on a rainy day. Why do you care so deeply for him? they wonder to themself. Why now? What has changed? They had lingered in the hospital until they knew Elliott was going to be alright. They rarely did that with anyone that was not in their squad. So why Elliott?

The door to the roof flies open, flooding the area with a vast golden light. Bloodhound sits up in a flash, hastily grabbing their goggles as their eyes burn. A pair of running footsteps abruptly come to a screeching halt, and their owner says, “Oh sorry, I was just-”

Bloodhound fumbles with their goggles, and notices in a panic that their mask is still off. They look up to berate the person who had intruded upon their privacy, but when their eyes meet, Bloodhound’s heart tightens. 

It is Elliott, backlit by the glow of the bulbs from the staircase. He stands there for a brief moment, staring down at Bloodhound, his mouth hanging open. His eyes flicker to the goggles in their hand, then to the mask and helmet on the ground. “Bloodhound! Is that y-” He covers his eyes and begins to nervously pace. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to in- inch- barge in on you like this! Oh, god, I’m dumb, I’m so sorry, I feel like I just walked in on you naked? Wait, no, that’s not the same thing, I swear I don’t imagine you naked or anything- oh my god Elliott SHUT UP-”

“Elliott!” Bloodhound snaps. It comes out more like a bark than anything else, and it silences him immediately. “Please, Elliott, vertu rólegur. It is alright. Please give me a moment.” Shame and fear flood their body with no warning, and they shiver uncomfortably as they put the goggles and respirator back on.

“Bloodhound, I’m really sorry, look, I’ll just leave and pretend this never happened-”

“Elliott, it is fine,” Bloodhound insists, even though they feel horribly, deeply exposed. Their voice becomes modulated and slightly muffled once more as they flip the switch on the mask.

“Are you sure?” Elliott asks, still sweating visibly. His energy is nervous, frustrated, and strangely emotional, as though he had been in an argument or had a nightmare. “‘Cause I can just-”

“Yes,” they reply. “I am sure.” Despite his intrusion, Bloodhound does not want him to leave. But why? He is far too much of a liability right now. Why not ask him to leave? He certainly would like to. They stand swiftly, and gather their hair in their hands, not facing him. They begin to tie it back, but in their stress, they pull at the elastic too roughly and it breaks. They swear under their breath as their body shakes, and drop their hands to their sides, huffing in frustration. It is no use. “You may uncover your eyes.”

Elliott slowly removes his hands from his face. He looks at Bloodhound with extreme hesitation, and seems relieved to find that they are masked once more. He shifts his feet uncomfortably and coughs, then clears his throat. “So, uh… that was awkward.” He pauses, waiting for a response. When none comes, he continues. “Why are you up here all alone, anyway? You don’t like to hit the town after matches?”

Bloodhound ignores his nervous queries. They take a few deep breaths, trying to settle their shaking stomach. “First, Elliott, I must ask you to never speak of this moment. I have spent much of my time hiding my identity from those who could cause me harm, and from all of our fellow Legends. I do not wish for anyone to know who I am, or what harm has befallen me.” They meet his eyes and stare him down intensely.

Elliott visibly shivers and takes a step back, raising his hands in a placating gesture. Even though he cannot see their eyes, Bloodhound knows their seriousness has done the trick. “Hey, look, as much as I want to go blabbing about that gorgeous red hair of yours, I’m not going to tell, I promise. And it’s definitely not because I’m terrified right now, nope, not at all.” He lets out a half-hearted chuckle, but it dies as he quickly checks Bloodhound’s body language to try and get a read on them. 

“Elliott, I need to know I can trust you,” Bloodhound says sternly, turning to face him. He still looks completely stunned and nervous, and Bloodhound’s heart is pounding, the blood thumping in their veins louder than the footsteps of the Leviathan. But Elliott takes a deep breath, and the nerves seem to drain away from him, leaving the strange sense of frustration from before.

“You can trust me, Bloodhound,” he says. “I won’t say a word.”

Bloodhound stares at him, more nervous than they’ve ever been in their entire life. This all depends on him. Will he honor my request? The uncertainty bubbles up inside them like the lava on World’s Edge, and their knees tremble faintly. I must take a chance on him. Finally, they exhale, letting out a sigh. “I am counting on you,” they murmur. 

He still hasn’t taken his eyes off of them, and Bloodhound feels too seen, too exposed. They turn away, and move across the roof to the balcony, trying to put some distance between them. 

“Um… so... you never answered my question. What are you doing up here?” Elliott asks tentatively, and Bloodhound hears the door to the roof close. His footsteps approach them, and Elliott stands at the balcony, a comfortable distance to their left. 

Bloodhound searches for the words, weighs them in their mind, deciding how much to say. Keep things vague, they think. He does not need to know about your past here. Not yet.

“The city below is too loud and brash for my liking,” they say. “I spend time up here to get away from the noise. I did not grow up in the city, as many of you did, and living here is… an adjustment.”

“Where did you grow up?” It is an innocent enough question, but it gives Bloodhound pause. 

“The exact location is something I wish to keep to myself,” they say finally, “but suffice it to say, it was nowhere near cities like these.” In an attempt to steady their hands, they gather their long hair together and begin to braid it, starting at the top of their head. 

“Huh.” Elliott leans on the balcony railing, putting his weight on his elbows. He’s gazing out over the streets, but his eyes are far away, and Bloodhound is surprised that he is not babbling on like he usually does. They wonder where his thoughts are. Back at home, maybe? With a sibling or a friend? A lover, perhaps…?

“What troubles you enough to keep you quiet?” Bloodhound asks suddenly, ignoring the strange surge of annoyance they feel at that last thought. “I have never known you to be leynilega manneskju.” 

“What does that mean?” Elliott asks, looking a little baffled.

“It means… a secretive person,” Bloodhound offers. “You often speak your mind, even when no one is listening. What has changed?”

“Well, uh, that’s really perceptive of you.” Elliott’s voice is tight, and maybe even a little annoyed. “How are you able to tell? You did it just then, and then you did it in the hospital the other day after that shitty match of ours. How can you tell something’s bothering me?”

“Well… Your performance in the Games as of late does not meet the potential I know you to be capable of. You are reckless and run into fights without thinking. You broke a glass in the bar the other night because you were cleaning it too vigorously. Looking at the sunset in the hospital made you pensive and sad. I frequent this rooftop most evenings, and I have never seen you here. You clearly came up here to find a place to be alone.” Bloodhound thinks all of these signs make it obvious, but they decide not to say so. 

“Um, ouch,” Elliott says, feigning shock.“That’s r- ridi- uh, stupidly accurate. You know, a lot of rumors fly about you, but I didn’t ever think the one about you being a psychic extraordinaire would be true.”

“I am no psychic, Elliott,” they reply. They finish their braid, but realize too late they do not have anything to tie it back with. They sigh and let their hair fall loose. “Let the people think what they wish. I am simply observant.”

“Right.” Elliott does not sound convinced. He falls silent for a moment, then, “You said the other night that you’ve lost family members. What happened to them?”

Images of their parents and uncle and other tribesmen flood their mind unbidden, and they let them come, passing over the memories with a quiet acceptance. “They honored the Allfather with their dying breaths,” they say, their voice almost a whisper. “They fought bravely, but their path was made.”

“They died in combat?”

“...Not all of them. Some died because of the IMC’s meddling foolishness, but some died fighting, yes.”

“I’m sorry.” He is silent for a moment, thinking. “If… if they were still alive today, but they couldn’t remember who you were, what would you do?”

Bloodhound’s breath catches in their throat, and they look at Elliott’s face, searching for meaning. He is staring directly at them, making eye contact, even through the goggles. They have never seen any of their teammates quite so vulnerable, quite so trusting, and they don’t know what to do with it. “I suppose… I would make sure they knew they were safe and cared for.” They pause. “Elliott, I wish to make it clear that you do not need to tell me anything you do not wish to,” they say, turning to face him as they speak.

“Only seems fair,” he replies, a glimmer of his usual charm and wit returning. “I invaded your privacy, now you get to intrude on mine.”

Bloodhound mulls this over for a moment, but relents, half a smile crossing their face. 

“Fair enough.”

The bravado disappears once more, and Elliott sighs. He is silent for a long time as he thinks. His head tilts as he looks up to the sky. “It’s my mom,” he murmurs, and it feels like a confession, or a confirmation to himself. “She can’t remember me. She didn’t recognize my voice over the phone when we talked earlier. I knew this was coming, but I thought I had…” His voice trails off, and Bloodhound knows his silence is not because he is searching for words.

“More time,” they finish for him. They meet Elliott’s gaze, but he looks away quickly. The silence hangs between them awkwardly at first, but the discomfort dissipates as Bloodhound waits patiently for the man before him to regain his composure. 

“We are blessed to have loved so much that loss hurts us,” they murmur, once Elliott meets their eyes again. They weigh a choice in their head, mulling it back and forth. The desire to be open with him, the desire for connection, wins out. “As a child, my faðir and móðir taught me to honor the pain I felt. When they passed, I was plagued by grief and sadness for a very long time. Though there is still pain and anger at times, I allow myself to feel it so that I can let it pass.”

“But… how do you know when it will end? Or if it will?” Elliot asks. He looks guarded, but vulnerable all at the same time. Bloodhound knows the feeling. 

They consider his query, pausing to find the right words. “Pain and grief and sadness… These things are not bound by time. We all move through them at different rates. But if you allow yourself to be plagued by the ‘what if’s’, you will never see what is right there in front of you.”

The man beside him is quiet for a very long time, and Bloodhound begins to fear they have offended him. Mirage was never quiet, and they realize how unsettling it is that he does not have a funny quip or self-deprecating comment to make. He was always running his mouth, letting the most absurd things pop out. But not this evening. He is quieter than he has ever been. They almost… miss his voice. He has spoken to you much this evening, they think, a little bewildered at their own emotions. You have no reason to miss it. But it didn’t matter- a feeling of fondness grows under Bloodhound’s sternum, and for once in their life, they do not try to compress it.

“Thank you.” 

Elliott’s voice is soft and accepting and all the things Bloodhound had hoped to hear. 

“I am glad I could be of help to you.” The silence stretches between them again, comfortably this time. A pleasant breeze flows across the roof, and Bloodhound embraces it, inhaling deeply. They smell the usual smog of the city, but it is accompanied by something gentler. Something warmer. And as their eyes wander back over to their companion, they suspect...

“By the way, you’ve got a hell of a throwing arm,” Elliott remarks. “My forehead is still sore from this morning. Don’t worry though, I just shook it off like I always do.” His bravado has returned, and it makes Bloodhound smile.

“I do what I must to vinna,” they say, briefly adopting a tone much too harsh and serious for their current conversation. Elliott fake cowers, taking a couple of steps back. 

“Whoa, alright then!” he laughs. “You know, I can never tell what you’re thinking under there. You could be sc- sco- uh, frowning at me, and I wouldn’t know any better. Makes you look kind of scary.”

“I will admit, that is part of the reason I wear it,” Bloodhound says, smiling wider now. “Intimidation is a powerful weapon.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says, raising his hands in a placating gesture, but laughing again. Bloodhound finds themself staring at him, at his smile, and for once they feel… seen. Comfortable. They know, for some unknown reason, that Elliott Witt is someone to be trusted.

“Hey, thanks again,” he continues. “And don’t worry, I won’t go telling everyone that the great Bloodhound is secretly a total heartthrob. The press would have a field day. They wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Bloodhound stares at him, open mouthed- but it wasn’t like he could tell, anyway.

Elliott realizes what he has said much too late, and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. His cheeks darken as he blushes, and he immediately splutters, “I- uh- oh my God was that out loud? I’m, uh… I’m just… gonna go…” He dashes for the door to the roof, leaving a stunned Bloodhound behind. He twists the door handle, but it does not budge.

They are locked on the roof. 

And Bloodhound laughs. 

It’s a giggle at first, but it turns into full chested, dizzying laughter in no time. They do not remember the last time they had felt such joy, such freedom. It must have been when they were a child. But this man, this trickster, has managed to find that young one again and bring them forward into the light. Their eyes sting, and to their surprise, tears of laughter begin to fall and fog up their goggles. They turn away from a very bewildered and horrified Elliott in order to lift the goggles and wipe away the mist. 

“Fyrirgefðu mér, vinur minn,” they choke, the laughter beginning to constrict their scarred lungs. “I am not laughing at you. I am laughing at the poor luck we have had this evening.” They breathe hard, clutching their chest, trying to get some air in. When the laughter has settled to the occasional chuckle, they turn back to Elliott, and they are surprised to find him leaning against the door, his face buried in the silver metal. He’s mumbling to himself, and Bloodhound cannot make out any words other than “stupid” and “damn”. 

“You flatter me with your kindness,” they say. Still smiling, they walk to him and place a hand on his shoulder. “But I am afraid the press would be quite disappointed. I do not meet their standards of beauty by any means.”

Elliott mutters something that Bloodhound does not catch, but they do not get the chance to clarify. “What do those words mean? The ones you said?” he asks, still blushing furiously. 

“They mean… forgive me, my friend.”

“Your friend, huh?”

Bloodhound considers this. “Yes. I suppose so.”

Elliott takes a deep breath, and even though Bloodhound knows he must be tortured with embarrassment, he looks them directly in the face. “If you tell anyone what I just said, I’m gonna… I’m gonna kick your ass. In the arena and out of it.” 

This earns him another laugh. “I would not dream of it.” The both of them notice that Bloodhound’s ungloved hand is still on his shoulder, and the latter removes it gently, their fingers ghosting across the soft fabric of Elliott’s hooded sweatshirt. He notices their lingering touch, and only blushes more.

Elliott shakes himself out of his daze, pulls out his phone, and types a quick message. The chime of a returning text rings through the air faster than Bloodhound thought was possible. “There. Octavio is coming to unlock the door. You’d better put your helmet on quick, because he’ll be here faster than I can say ‘pork chops’.”

Bloodhound obliges, and crosses back to where they had left their helmet and gloves. They pick up their helmet and store it beneath their arm as they gather up their hair and twist it expertly atop their head. Once the helmet is fastened, they don their gloves once more. True to Elliott’s word, the rooftop door clatters and swings open. Octavio, still wearing a gaming headset, looks impatient. 

“You owe me for this one, amigo,” he whines, tapping his metal foot and glaring at Mirage through his goggles. “I lost my game for you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Elliot replies, grabbing hold of the door and waving him off. “Next round of drinks at the bar is on the house. How about that?”

“Sweet!” the shorter man crows, and he rockets back down the stairs.

“The last thing he needs is alcohol,” Bloodhound remarks, tucking a stray piece of hair away. They highly doubt Octane even noticed they were there, but they do not mind. That just meant there would be less questions toward the pair of them later.

Elliott rolls his eyes. “Don’t go all Ajay on me now,” he teases. “And we were just starting to get along.” A faux wistful look appears in his eyes, and he sighs dramatically.

Bloodhound just smiles. 

The pair of them descend a few flights of stairs and arrive at Bloodhound’s floor.  “Thanks again for the advice,” Elliott says. “I appreciate it.”

“You are welcome,” they reply. “Sleep well, Elliott.”

“You too, Bloodhound.”

[featherburnt]

skdjbfsikfd Y’all, okay, so back before I knew what I was even doing with Saryn’s character, I was super torn between making him a villain or a hero, completely forgetting that vigilante was an option and also that you can still be a hero with a complicated opinion/thought process/history, etc etc. This rant is MONTHS old, but it really helped me decide where to take his character - which is...well, not to make him a villain. Just a super angsty hero. 

    So, there are two potential outcomes that could result from all that’s happened in Saryn’s life and what arises from the ashes of his shattered resolve: Will he become a hero, like he always wanted to be, or will he shift the blame from himself onto pro heroes and become a villain? Will he hold fast to his desire to protect other people, be they civilians, friends, even lovers? Or, will he seek refuge among those who, in some ways, understand him, stoke the flames of his rage, corrupt him? Both are possible and equally as likely, and here’s why.

    It begins and ends with his trauma - just like everyone else.

    ————-

    His younger years (up to age 8) were spent in the care of his birth parents, Shiroma Hisato (a mid-level hero; Firebrand) and Juno Miris (an American low-level hero; Dogstar). The first five years of his childhood were altogether very normal. He was free to watch tv, play, be a kid, and get excited about heroes such as All Might, and both Hisato and Juno encouraged him to become a hero some day - just like them. They started training him early on, before his quirk ever began to reveal itself, pushing him through certain forms of endurance training and mixed martial arts in an effort to both prime him for his quirk and his future as a hero. He had to be ready for anything that came his way; The world was far more dangerous than it’d ever been and he was their only child. He had to be the best, no matter the cost, and, so, they were incredibly strict about his training. But, when he began to display aspects of his quirk, a touch later than most (age 6), their views on the matter turned on a dime. It stopped being about providing him with the tools necessary to survive, to become a hero, and entirely about controlling him. See, his quirk was an unexpected marriage of their own and instead of being proud of what they created, instead of finding an upside, all they could see was a blackmark, a wild and vicious mistake. The love they had for him had been quickly replaced by regret and disgust, seeing his aggression, making note of how easily he could be set off when he was overwhelmed. The dog in him came first, and it became a point of contention between him and the other children his age - and the worst part was, he didn’t understand why.

    He wasn’t aggressive at first, still figuring things out about his quirk, excited to even have one. He wanted to share it, show everyone, boast about it, and play with all the others, but some found him a little scary despite having only seen one aspect of his quirk and it was entirely because of his increased aggression. Any hands that came near him were instinctively bitten by jaws transformed by exposed muscle and twisted fangs (beginnings of Devil Dog), and while this began as an instinctual defense mechanism, it became much more severe, often resulting in terrible injuries. Things only compounded when the other aspect of his quirk (flame) came into the mix. In the end, he was ostracized, alienated, and left to flounder on his own - Ironic, considering there are other students with aggression issues and interesting enough quirks to match that weren’t given the same treatment. His teachers chalked it up to him simply acting out and this was true, for the most part, but he had no idea how to control his instinctive impulses, let alone his quirk, on the whole.

    Regardless, something had to be done about his behavior. He needed to be corrected lest he bring shame upon the family name - or kill someone. Hisato and Juno’s fears were warranted in some ways, but proved to be terribly irrational the moment they took to…disciplining him. Any outbursts, back-talk, use of his quirk for anything but his training, childishness, etc. was met with over-reaction and violence. They did not level with him. They hardly spoke to him outside of training. Every bit of love was gone, replaced only by steadily building hatred of him. Hisato took on the bulk of his punishments and often had he dragged him along for training sessions, hands overheated by agitation, and every single time did he leave a burn. Saryn was not allowed to protest, but throughout the duration of these sessions, he was terrified of his father. Again, he had no understanding as to why he was being treated this way, not by his peers at school and certainly not by his parents. So much of his time was spent crying, and even that was met with harsher treatment.

    In sparring with Hisato, it was common for him to make use of his Devil Dog ability, in which his body would shift and change to allow for flexible ‘plates’ made from raw, exposed muscle to form over vital parts of his body, the most notable being his face (shite reference here). He was, of course, instructed to use it and, despite his fear, he would inevitably wind up biting the ever-loving shit out of his father. Sometimes, a chunk or two would be taken. This is what made way for the use of a muzzle, and focus was then turned onto other aspects of his quirk. It was humiliating, painful, and crushing for Saryn - because even after each training session, the muzzle would stay on. Demoralized, depressed, alienated, afraid, and gradually becoming more and more bitter, his parents would begin to see the changes they wanted; He was so lethargic and low-energy that his teachers reported no further incidents. He rarely spoke, and he wouldn’t even when he was called on to answer questions or read passages from school books. His grades slipped, too, and some of his peers started thinking he was stupid. He was teased and bullied accordingly.

    The only good thing to come out of any of this was the steady gain of control over both his emotions and certain aspects of his quirk, and he’d progressed to a point Hisato and Juno deemed it necessary to soften a little, throw him a bone. He was their son, after all. Their only son. During one particularly messy training session in late autumn, Saryn asked his father to make things harder for him. He wanted to know that everything he’d suffered up to this point meant something. He wanted to know that he’d made progress. Hisato relented, and everything went about as well as you’d expect. Saryn used his anger, his pain, his sadness as fuel, pushing himself to keep going even when he didn’t have the energy, and, for a brief moment, both of his parents were proud of him. For a long time, they’d been pushing him to and beyond his limits, leading to the discovery of a handful of abilities in relation to his quirk, and he was using them intelligently for his age. Of course, this momentary sense of pride was terribly short-lived, as when Juno went to remove his muzzle, he reacted like an animal, caught by surprise and trapped in the throes of his quirk; He snapped his jaws around her hand so fast, it was ripped clean off. Hisato burned him for this, grabbing him by the arm and damn near lighting him on fire - and he couldn’t even scream.

    Life after that was very different for him. While his mother was in the hospital, his father sought out the necessary avenues for putting him up for adoption. Saryn was entirely on his own from then on. Hisato never spoke to him again and Juno swore she’d never return home so long as he was there. A few short months later, he was dropped off at some adoption agency and he never saw his parents again. By this point, he is only 8-years-old.

    Truthfully, he didn’t rightly know how to feel, let alone how to express his feelings. He started life well-loved, his dreams encouraged, but the moment his quirk developed, everything was turned on its head and he was punished for it. He didn’t know how to control it at first and wound up harming the people around him, be they fellow students or his parents, and it frightened him. Worse, still, were the punishments themselves. Being muzzled for hours at a time, burned or beaten into silence, pushing and pushing and pushing to be what his parents wanted him to be– It took its toll, and Saryn could not trust himself, couldn’t trust anyone else. He missed his parents, but he hated them, too. He wanted to be a hero, to use his quirk to protect others, but how could he when all he seemed capable of doing was hurting people? He felt guilt, shame, disgust in himself, and he was bitter about his life, hateful, angry– And he’d no outlet, no one to turn to at all.

    A few months later, a woman by the name of Yana Ivaniuk (a Ukrainian scientist specializing in quirks and DNA, working with the Japanese government), came into the agency. She was a kindhearted woman, and she’d chosen him. The paperwork had already gone through when she visited and he was taken away with her that very same day. It was a confusing time for him, to say the least. He didn’t understand why she’d wanted him, what she hoped to achieve, and he didn’t trust her by any stretch, but some parts of him wanted to. Over the next several years (ages 9-16), his training continued and he was given a surprising amount of support and encouragement from Yana, who had come to genuinely love him as though she were of his own flesh and blood. Great effort on her part was put into repairing the damage caused by his birth parents. She included him on the not-so secret aspects of her research, teaching him all about how quirks work and more. She gave him the space he needed to train on his own and would check on him to see how he was doing. Her gentle, supportive approach had a significant impact on him, enough for him to eventually let his guard down completely. He grew to trust her and, eventually, love her. She was his mother, in his eyes. The next several years would pass without incident. Their little family unit was stable, tight-knit, and he even started to come out of his shell in other social situations.

    He loved Yana. He looked up to her, valued her advice, valued their little family with all his heart. He learned so much more from her than he ever did Hisato and Juno. And he was loved in turn.

    Unfortunately, however, during his first year at U.A. High, just two weeks before the sports festival, Yana would tragically lose her life to an unknown villain. Heroes did nothing. The police did nothing. And he could do nothing. There were no updates. As far as he knew, there was no further investigation. All he knew was all that would consume him: Grief. He saw the blood, her lifeless body, the state of their home. He saw the lights, all those horrible faces looking at him, camera flashes, officers collecting evidence, shattered windows, decimated floorboards. She put up a fight, at least, and he wasn’t sure if that’d made everything worse. He felt nothing but shame, guilt, like it was his fault she’d been killed. If he’d only come home sooner, he could’ve done something. He could’ve protected her. If he hadn’t gone to school at all that day, she’d still be alive. If only, if only, if only, if only– Old habits beaten into him as a child resurfaced and he withdrew once more, socially isolating himself from his classmates. He put himself on auto-pilot, focusing his energies into his studies and preparations for the festival, cutting off any who tried to converse with him. He moved into a small apartment relatively close to U.A. with his inheritence, but even that was put off and procrastinated on in favor of burying himself in busywork. He had to keep going. He had to keep pushing himself forward or he’d fall apart.

    But he did anyway, when the festival came.

    After the festival, he begins to really question his role as a fledgling hero, kept alone with his thoughts in hospital. He questions the lines drawn between heroes and villains, what makes someone a hero, what makes someone a villain. He questions everything he’s seen on tv, everything he’s been led to believe. He questions whether or not the ends justify the means, if becoming a hero is worth all his own suffering and loss. His resolve has all but tanked and he has next to no morale, struggling with his own preconceptions of what it means to be a hero, all the while still very much dealing with the loss of his adoptive mother. What point is there to any of this when he’s lost everything? Why should he keep pushing himself to move forward when there’s nothing left? What difference would it make if he became a hero or villain, if he lived or died? What good could he possibly do? And why should he continue looking up to any of the pro heroes when they did nothing about the villain who slaughtered his mother? How can they be role models if they don’t follow through on the promises they swore to fulfill, if they don’t catch the bad guy?

    And the rest is ultimately history.

    ————–

    So, we see his trauma here. Abuse from his birth parents and the death of his adoptive mother. We see this profound lack of support early on in his life, suddenly gaining it, and eventually losing it completely. We see him beaten, burned, muzzled, and abandoned. We see him supported and loved, only to lose that when his adoptive mother is murdered. We see him beginning to question every aspect of his life, his motivations, how things really work between heroes and villains. We see him lose his resolve. And we see him push through every bit of it anyway.

    The way the rest of his life plays out is entirely dependent on his upbringing and certain events and trials faced during his time at U.A. As I said before, there are two possible directions he can go: Hero, or Villain. What it will come down to is whether or not he can hold true to what motivated him to become a hero in the first place. He hates unnecessary suffering, hates seeing people suffer, and it was his goal to protect people, keep their families together, prevent tragedy where possible, put villains behind bars. This was such a strong motivator for him even when he was facing his abuse that no matter how bad things got for him, he was still so focused on becoming a hero so he could make up for everything he’d done and protect everyone he’d ever hurt. Even Hisato and Juno. Having his resolve shaken and ideals challenged by his circumstances pushes him to a certain point where he could either rediscover his core desire to protect or head down a dark and terrible path.

    Does he put his nose to the grindstone to achieve his original goals, or does he allow his anger, hatred, sadness, and grief to consume him? Does he make his concerns known to the pro heroes he’s learning from, or does he bottle them and let them fester? What would serve as the catalyst to solidify his position as a hero or villain? Would his classmates try to level with him, befriend him, and support him in what ways they could? Would he even accept it? Would some horrible person try to convince him that he is justified in his thoughts and feelings, that it’s okay to be angry and let loose, punish those who have harmed him or stood by and done nothing all the while? Would it be a mixture of both? Would he continue to be confused and torn on what he’s supposed to do with himself well into adulthood? Would he consider hunting down the villain responsible for his mother’s death, and would he attempt to kill them? Would he succeed? Would he die himself?

    I’d like to say it’s clear cut for him, but it isn’t. Saryn’s always been on his own mentally and emotionally, and the resounding lack of support from people who are supposed to support him is more demoralizing than you’d think. The weekly chats with the guidance counsilor do absolutely nothing for him. Passing comments from his teachers do nothing for him. Even if there are people who understand his plight, he has been lost in the shuffle, no focus put on him for anymore than half an hour once a week. He’s already feeling like he’s been hung out to dry, forgotten, like everything that’s happened in his life is just meaningless suffering on top of more meaningless suffering, that he has no place among heroes, and he’s so angry, hurt, still grieving his loss. Will no one look at him, talk to him, anything? Is he not worth the effort?

    I think, ultimately, the answer to the question of whether or not he’d become a hero or a villain is muddied and unclear. At the very least, he’d have a complicated relationship with the idea of heroism and would be the sort of hero to make the hard decisions no one else wants to make or are bound not to by law. He’d make reactive decisions, sacrifice one to save many, and I think this, too, would take a huge toll him. His career as a hero would be dramatically cut short by his decisions and he’d either be imprisoned or killed in action, which is already an occupational hazard and statistical probability. In the end, though, it’s somewhat more likely that he would give up on becoming a hero entirely. He might not side with other villains or any one organization, but he would become one if only by virtue of his desire to hunt down those responsible for his mother’s death and the resulting cover up (her research was vitally important and if word got out that it was stolen by villains, there’d be hell to pay, so all but her murder was kept from the public, and he only knew this because he had some knowledge of her research to start with). If he had any influences during this time, it’s possible he could be swayed to kill others, including heroes and other villains. His birth parents would also be victims of his wrath and for good reason.

    He’s just this kid who gets lost in the shuffle and has to navigate everything on his own. No one gives a shit. No one cares. So, why fight for them at all? He’d end up parroting the same bullshit as some people in the LoV, so consumed by the pains of his life and his rage. At best, he’d be disgruntled hero with no faith in the system, and at worst, he’d become what he once aimed to protect people from, the monster he never wanted to be.

    He’d just end up a killer.

[kirk-spock-in-the-impala]

I just had my first truly negative exchange with a commenter on Follow You Down and it reminded me of something I wish we could bring back from ye olde days of fandom: “don’t like, don’t read”.

Now, as a tremendous caveat, I am in the position to genuinely not care what a negative review says.  A large part of my actual job is getting my writing torn apart and rebuilt (and doing the same for others) so I usually address any actual issues/lack of clarity brought to my attention and ignore the rest.  I understand that just because something is clear to me as the writer doesn’t mean it’s always as clearly conveyed to the reader and I do want to address that when it happens.

But I know that isn’t the case for every writer and that negative reviews can be quite devastating for some.  There is absolutely no shame in being upset by a negative review just as there’s no shame in utterly dismissing them.  Each writer is entitled to view feedback in whatever way they wish, without judgment.  

In this particular case, and I will absolutely not cite the reviewer by name because that is not the point, the issue boiled down to the reader being upset that my characterization of the accessibility of Kaer Morhen in the winter did not comport with their personal experiences living in the mountains (location unknown).  Initially, I treated this as a notification of a lack of clarity and tightened the prose accordingly.  I do a lot of research on basically everything and I spent an almost embarrassing amount of time figuring out where Kaer Morhen would be if it were on our globe.  With several assumptions made, I based it off of the Colorado Rockies and researched mountaineering and ranching in that area.  I have also lived and worked with horses in the northern mountains so I bring some of my own experience into it as well.  I also spoke with a friend of mine who’s a rancher in Montana and traverses his holding by horse all winter long.  I explained this and expressed my thanks for pointing out my characterization of the environment wasn’t clear. 

Then the reviewer made it clear their issue was more personal and that my story’s lack of comportment with their personal experience caused them to stop reading.  Which is absolutely fine, it is the prerogative of any reader to simply stop reading at any time for any reason.

What isn’t necessary is to share that reason with the author.

Fanfiction is produced by fans, for free, for fun.  The world is enough of a dumpster fire that fandom should be a place of respite and not a source of additional stress or conflict.  

tl:dr if you don’t like something, just don’t engage with it.  Sharing negative commentary on fanworks is unnecessary and can cause the creator significant, unwarranted distress.  While I personally do not feel that way receiving negative reviews -- given my job involves constant evisceration of my writing and I’m used to that sort of critique -- that is not true for everyone.  Any reader is entitled to read, or not read, whatever they want for any reason.  But sharing the reason you did not read, or did not like the story, with the author carries the risk of causing undue upset to the creator.  Just don’t do it.  Use your outrage in a more productive fashion.

[im-the-punk-who]

Yeah bro!!! Ship and let ship high five!! We all sail under the black and we all are here for Flint's freckled forearms 💙💙

Yeah! 

Also you didn't ask but you sent this as I was in the process of stepping off my soapbox so I'm going to step right back on for a second, for a slightly tangential but related note to my last post.

For me, accepting other people's opinion doesn't just mean ‘let them love the things you don't’, I think it also has to apply to letting people hate the things you love. Everyone has different experiences, and not all of those are good, but they are all real, and valid, and part of allowing each other the space to enjoy fandom is allowing each other the ability to not like something we like, and not shame them or force them to like it in order to be a ‘real fan’.

Fandom(not just BS but in general) lately has really seemed to latch onto this idea that anyone who holds a negative belief about a ship or character is an ‘anti’ and therefore is inherently wrong, or misunderstands why people like a certain character or ship, or that they just ‘don’t understand or haven’t watched the show correctly.’

Anon, I have watched Black Sails seven times all the way through and written at this point about 100k of meta - including a significant amount about John Silver. I understand deeply and intimately why just about everything happens in the show(again, as I personally understand it, but, y’know), and I especially understand why John Silver does the things he does. I have been, I have lived with, and under, and around John Silvers. I get it. I understand. I also still can’t fuckin’ stand the guy, lmao. And it’s not because I don’t understand his motivations, or haven’t considered why he does things, or because I just hate him because, or even that I can’t empathize with him. It’s because his personal values and motivations don’t line up with mine, and that ruins my enjoyment of content including him. That’s it. I think he’s an incredibly well written character, and I also have a mild panic attack when I think about engaging with anyone who acts like he does in certain parts of the series, and whom I would gladly cross the street to punch.

That doesn’t mean that I begrudge people who do enjoy Silver-centric content(and listen I am not perfect. I do sometimes slip on this. It’s a process, lmao.) but it also to my mind means that I expect the same effort from his fans to allow me my thoughts and feelings.

And that can be really hard. Cuz, to paraphrase a popular post, sometimes the way that people characterize my favorite lil’ dude makes me very angry. 

Especially if it's a character that you care deeply about and identify with really strongly, it can be hard not to take hate and criticism of them personally. But it’s important to realize that just because someone doesn’t like your favorite character, it doesn’t mean they don’t like you, or the part of you that you associate with that character.  

And honestly, even if it does mean that? That’s okay. 

Just because we’re all in the same fandom doesn’t mean we all have to get along and be buddies. We can dislike each other, we can bicker, we can disagree and dislike and sometimes straight up hate each other. We’re people. We’re people!!! We’re imperfect and sometimes we can’t help that other people’s opinions make us angry.

But what we can do is try to remember that we are all here because we love the show and had a deep and personal connection to it. None of us is spending our quarantine on tumblr-dot-com blogging about Black Sails at all hours of the day because we thought it was just ‘okay’.

(Obviously this is all assuming we’re not talking about the kind of hate where people harass other people’s inboxes, vague about them in the tags, or insult them personally etc. I’m talking about when someone posts a negative or critical post strictly about the character themselves or a frustration they have with canon/fandom portrayal.)

Everyone forms their own opinion about how they view media based on their own personal experiences and how they interact with media in general - and just because mine lead me to a certain conclusion and someone else’s lead them to something different, it doesn't necessarily follow that my conclusions are any more or less valid. Someone without similar experiences is probably going to pick up on different things - and will probably miss a lot of the things I pick up on because they aren’t consciously or subconsciously looking for them! 

And just because I’ve done more(or less! although....yeesh) research and thinking and talking about the show, it doesn’t mean that someone who has watched the show once and decided that was enough for them and reached a different conclusion is necessarily wrong. If they don’t want to do the 18 month deep dive I have, it’s my responsibility to accept that. Now, I might start a discussion about things I’ve noticed that might change their mind, but I’ve got to be prepared for the possibility they might not interested in that discussion.

And in that case, to quote Marcus Aurelius: Ain’t shit I can do about it. I’m only responsible for my own goddamn blog.

And again, this goes for both love and hate. There are people who hate my boy, my sun, the love of my entire heart, James McGraw. That’s cool. They’re blocked. They can stay in their fandom corner and I can stay in mine and we can just agree to cross the street if we end up on the same post.

Sorry to completely hijack your lovely ask to prattle, but this is really something I feel strongly about, because I feel like if we can all acknowledge that ‘don’t yuck my yum’ extends to more than just ‘you have to accept my ship as valid’ we’d have a lot less of the really yucky negative feelings that end up driving so many fans away.

[tarithenurse]

The good Villain - 11

Based on the prompt “You’re the villain and you know that you just want the ‘good guys’ to understand why”

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader Content: Worry/angst/tension, fluff. This is the last chapter. A/N: Thanks for reading and liking! Huge hugs for reblogs and comments, it really helped keep me motivated not just with the writing, but also with busy busy busy days. Love you all! (Sorry for the big gif. It was necessary.)

Chapter 11

The journey had been long and lonely, each moment tainted by the bittersweet dream of what could have been if you had not left him asleep that night. Oh, how you wish he was at your side during the trial. Not to vouch for you, as he had promised, but to look towards you with a trust that generally was lacking in the faces of the people – My people – while you explained the events and showed them the proof you had brought.

“We received a message,” the High Judge snarls, “that a witness would have come with you?”

That question stings.

The eyes of every judge, orderly, everyone are glued on you as words fail to come out your mouth. There is a prickle in your eyes and you instinctively know that if you were still on Terra, tears would be falling. Why now? You have no one to blame but yourself. Clenching your fists, causing the handcuffs to dig into the skin of the wrists, you power on down the road you started on when the airlock to the research station opened a long time ago.

“There has been a change of plan, your honour.” By some miracle your voice does not waver. “The written testimony will have to suff-“

Everything stops as the sound of scuffling emanates through the grand entrance to the courtroom. People are arguing outside. Loud and insisting but apparently to no avail as the doors are flung open, letting in a cold wind and…your heart skips a bit or two as it tries to come to terms with what you see. At the same time relieved and mortified to face the Asgardian whom you left in the dead of night without a word of explanation.

“Loki.”

It is no more than a whisper but he has already spotted you on the podium before the panel of judges, shooting the kind of smirk you have come to adore in your direction before stalking towards the High Judge. An outsider would think he belongs here, confidence coming off him in heavy waves as he respectfully (even observing the strict traditions of the Court of Sirius Beta) addresses the disgruntled panel of judges.

Satisfied with the intruder’s greetings, the High Judge dismisses the entourage of guards and orderlies that has trailed the new-comer with the intent of removing him from the room. Forcefully if needed. A significant amount of them look disappointed with the decision although they respect it wordlessly.

“I do sincerely apologize for my tardiness and manner of arrival, your honours,” the Asgardian continues to sweettalk, “hopefully, you of all people can sympathize with the urgency of dealing with the lingering threat of an invasive species bend on annihilating the indigenous inhabitants of a planet.”

He somehow manages to say it so casually that even you find yourself nodding before the complexity of the implication truly registers.

“Loki Odinson, formerly of Asgard – now hosted by the Terrans.” There is a titter of whispers rushing through the audience at the latter part of the announcement. “It is not customary to interrupt a trial – however as I had only just asked to your whereabouts…” here the High Judge pauses to send you a cold glare, “you will be allowed to be questioned.”

No! That is not – “Your honour!” you pipe up frantically, “if I may be granted a word with –“

“You may not.” Something heavy drops into your stomach at the dismissal. “In fact, you may sit down and remain silent.”

“But –“

“Silence the accused.”

A moment later, you are sitting on a small stool with a trifaerh leather muzzle tied uncomfortably over your mouth and jaws. Shame burns across your skin but there is nothing you can do to prevent Loki from taking the stand.

 …   Loki   …

Cold fury had powered the Asgardian through the interrogation when every look towards his love nearly broke his heart over and over again. Muted and cuffed, she remained aloof and unmoved by Loki’s answers to the drilling questions – only the burning coals of her eyes proved she was still alive. As if to compensate, his own body itched with a desire to slaughter in and every Betan involved in the offensive trial.

Justice, the bold letters along the frieze all around the Court Room spelled out, though the spectacle that had unfolded was far removed from the notion and yet…disheartening as it might have been, the blame was not only that of the Judges but belonged to [Y/N] in equal measure. Wrapped up in the old, poisonous sense of guilt she had presented her case while downplaying the facts that could clear her name, leaving Loki hard-pressed to undo the damage.

As in a feverish nightmare, the Asgardian watches the Judges file into the court room after debating in private. Each face his gaze lands on is closed, revealing nothing else than the severity of the case – a ranking member of the Rescue Forces on trial is outrageously uncommon.

This is it. In his periphery, the High Judge stands. A hush whispers through the room, while the accused and Loki barely breathe. No matter the verdict, my love, you will not become a prisoner on this day. Black eyes flicker towards him and he wishes she could hear the comforting words rather than the longwinded speech. A speech that ends with the phrase: “The accused is deemed not guilty, all charges will be dropped and expunged from records”.

He is at her side in a matter of seconds. Rigid like a statue in his embrace at the shock of the judges’ decision, it takes a long time and many coaxing whispers before the Betan leans into him.

“What now?” she wonders in a sighed whisper. “I cannot stay here…whe- what will I do?”

Surely, she can feel my heart racing. “Come with me, please?” When there is no answer, he continues with determination. “Come back to Terra, to the Avengers. Stay with…you don’t have to be alone or on the run. You can have a home again…”

[Y/N] pulls back a bit to meet his gaze, a glimmer of something warm in her eyes. “A home with you?”

“If you’ll have me…”

Loki’s heart leaps as she snuggles against his chest, oblivious of the many Betans sending the pair odd looks as the pass by on the way out of the court room. Already, her heat has melted through his callousness and arrogance – habits built up over centuries – as well as thawed a Jotun heart. And he loves it. He loves the hot softness against the palms, the sweet burning of his old ideas and expectations as new hopes form.

“Yes, let us go home, Loki.”

[rotationalsymmetry]

In an attempt to not overload one single post: Feminism has been a major theme in fantasy and science fiction for longer than I have been alive. Identity politics have been part of geekdom for generations. I freaking learned feminism from science fiction and fantasy books.

Lack of representation, it’s not an anger thing. It’s not an offense thing. It’s a *hurt* thing. It’s an, “am I really a person?” thing. “Do I really exist?” Lack of representation isn’t, you know, something people get angry about? I mean, it is, but it takes a while to get to the anger. Before the anger, there’s “wait, am I really a person? Am I really who I think I am? Why don’t I see anyone like me?” And there’s the intersectionalities: I left out the queer aspects. I saw queer characters in my dragon books long before I saw them anywhere else, or knew any queer people in real life. I got my first queer *protagonists* in speculative fiction. Not only are not all geeks men, the geek men aren’t all *straight* either, and the geek women aren’t all straight, and sometimes nonbinary people find their representation in speculative fiction when it isn’t anywhere else. (Although that might be changing, so that’s pretty cool.)

There’s race: I used to think “fantasy racism” was a good way to explore the topic, you know, and...I mean it’s a way to explore bigotry in the abstract? But a lot of race issues is about specifics, and a lot of fantasy racism reinforces the idea that white people are normal and people of color are other. Most of the speculative fiction I’ve read has been heavily white with POC characters showing up as a small minority, often exotified/appropriative. The fantasy equivalent of the Chinese-American who grew up in LA and barely speaks two words of Chinese almost never gets seen. But, some speculative fiction books have an actually diverse cast (where white people aren’t the majority or always the protagonists) and some fantasy is based on a non-Western culture without being all weird about it. It can be done well. Religion is complicated: I’m not thrilled about how Brandon Sanderson handles religion in the Mistborn Trilogy for instance -- so many different religions, and they’re all basically just palette-swapped from the same “one god with one focus” template. Which kind of reinforces the idea that religions that aren’t Christianity are still basically Christianity, just a little different (and/or, just not true) whereas in the real world, what it means to be a religion varies a lot. (Some religions are a lot more tied to culture and/or geographic location, one deity/many/none, focused on faith vs focused on practice, etc.) And there’s sometimes anti-Semitism and/or Islamophobic stuff (Tolkien’s dwarves, C S Lewis’s Tash worshippers, Mercedes Lackey’s Karse.) OTOH fantasy can be a great source of inspiration and guidance for pagans, even fantasy that wasn’t written by pagans, and science fiction is often a home for atheists. There’s some Jewish influence in Star Trek: TOS although none of it is overt. TV shows in particular tend to have non-Christian Christmas equivalents, which again normalizes Christianity and downplays real religious diversity. Disability...dunno, I’m still pretty new at analyzing ableism. I know some books etc handle it really badly. Avatar: The Last Airbender and Legend of Korra do some interesting things with disability and disabled characters. There’s a widespread tendency across visual media but especially in superhero stories to use disfigurement to indicate villainy. More generally, the “outsider looking for a place to belong” trope comes up a LOT in speculative fiction, which can be a real magnet for people who are marginalized in all sorts of different ways. Look at Harry Potter: the magical/muggle dichotomy could be seen as an analogy for all sorts of different ways people are marginalized, minority cultures and being queer and being neuroatypical. The idea that geekdom is the natural habitat of people who are privileged on every nameable axis -- white, male, able-bodied, straight, non-immigrant, English-speaking, not a member of a minority religion, often middle class and affluent and well-educated -- and only those people by default, that’s just...so wrong. I mean, people who are very privileged do have a place in geekdom, but if that’s you, you gotta share, OK? Lots of other people find our home in geekdom and need that home as much as you do, if not more. Anyways: if you’re reading this and thinking “well, you’re preaching to the choir, but what do I do?” It starts with deliberately introducing more diversity into what you read (characters and authors), then into what you recommend to other people (including people who are privileged on axes where you’re marginalized.) What you write, if you write fanfic or original fic (but: sometimes bad representation is as much of a problem as lack of representation, so do some research.) The general advice for writers is to have beta readers of whatever marginalized identities you’re writing about when you’re writing about other communities -- in general, if *you* get paid a significant amount for your writing you should pay your beta readers, if not, swapping labor is fine. Sharing articles or posts about this stuff. Writing letters to publishers, TV producers, people who put on cons etc. I tried to write this and especially the other post to be accessible/not too offputting to people who aren’t already in the choir, so if you know someone like that who might be open-minded feel free to pass the post on. Thing is: yes, there are total assholes, but there’s also people who aren’t assholes who just, their worldview is missing something. Some people are persuadable. I think. (Other people can be shamed out of siding with the bigots; I’m not saying that the shame approach is wrong, but that works best on people who haven’t already staked a claim; for people who have and might get talked down, talking about feelings and appealing to empathy might be more effective than an “if you take this side, you’re a misogynist” approach. That’s not how *they* see themselves.) OTOH I’ve never actually been able to talk someone down on the gender front with the gentle approach, so idk. I’ve heard it’s doable though? One thing I’ve heard about that is, it does tend to be more effective when someone from a position of privilege is doing the talking. Men talking to other men about feminism. White people talking to other people about race. Basically: when you’re privileged, you should 1. read/listen to what marginalized people have to say and 2. pass that message on/amplify their voices to people who are privileged in the same way that you are. This is kind of counterintuitive: I know I’m a lot more motivated to talk about gender and sexual orientation (things that affect me) than about race or culture. It takes some intentionality to see onesself as part of a broader movement for inclusivity, and not just fighting for the things that affect you personally.

[sarahkhoojijean]

Blogpost 3: Mobile Media (Sarah Khoo)

In this reading, Anderson, Ito and Okabe (2017) explore how mobile media has shaped and transformed the everyday life of people living in urban spaces. Through their research, they focused on how people used these mobile media objects to interact with the environment around them, particularly the public spaces they are in and public infrastructure. These mobile objects were not exclusive to interpersonal communication technologies, and included other portable objects such as books and personal data assistants (eg. identity cards). Okabe et al. looked at how people were present with mobile media in urban spaces and categorized them into 3 parts: Cocooning, Camping and Footprinting. Firstly,  Cocooning was described to be the practice of using our mobile devices to preoccupy ourselves while in a public space, so as to maintain their personal space. Next, Camping refers to the a temporal yet prolonged period of stay, where an individual intentionally settles down in a public space, appropriating the space. Finally, Footprinting focuses on the portable devices people carry around, mediating and personalizing people's relationships to various establishments in urban space. The authors expanded on how the use of mobile media has become so prevalent in our everyday lives, especially for those with urban lifestyles. This has led me to ponder about how important the smartphone has become to my everyday life. I have become so desperately dependent on my mobile phone that losing my phone would feel so helpless, as if my entire self has been robbed from me.

Smartphones have transcended its original purpose of allowing users to communicate with others, transforming into a device that can practically do anything, at any time. From investing in stock to paying for a pack of chicken rice at the hawker center. Playing mahjong with friends on the go, to checking when the next bus is arriving. You could literally do all four things simultaneously too. It is incredible how easy the smartphone has made it for people to shift our attention from one thing to the next, making accessibility and productivity so simple. By having access to the internet, people are connected to anything and everything that is available, be it through mobile applications or websites. Consequently, I find that the phone is the prime example for all three categories of mobile media presence in my own everyday life, and thus fully agree with Okabe et al.'s points.

My phone is my primary form of mobile media that I use to "cocoon" myself in any public space. It is second nature for me to put on my earphones, connect them to my phone and play my go-to Spotify playlist every time I am commuting alone. Any idle moment is filled with me scrolling through Instagram or watching Netflix or TikTok. Having my earphones on allows me to block out the surrounding sounds, enabling me to be blissfully unaware of the people around me and humdrum of public transport. My phone keeps my attention occupied, and I feel significantly less tense as compared to when I don't have my phone for company, often looking anywhere just to avoid making eye contact with others, with fear of starting up a conversation with a stranger that would leave me feeling awkward and uncomfortable. In this instance, I am just passing through the public space, with no intention of prolonging my stay. Therefore, my phone allows me to keep to my personal bubble and I do my best to mind my own business. I occasionally get so caught up on my phone that I would even miss my stop, resulting in me having to do the walk of shame of alighting at the MRT next stop and awkwardly crossing to the other side of the platform to wait for the next train. Lucky no one's paying attention to me, and are usually on their phones as well.

I find that my phone is also effective as a device that would allow me to "camp" in a public area. It works just as well as any laptop or tablet when it comes to studying as well. I would often sit in public spaces such as libraries or cafes to catch up on recorded lectures, watch movies or even have Zoom meetings with my friends. My phone acts as the personal belonging that I place to 'put my roots down', claiming the space for myself and settling down, readying myself to spend a significant amount of time in that public space. As I purposefully plan my day such that I set time aside to relax at the nearby park to watch the new episode of attack on titans, I am exhibiting the concept of "encampment". Thus, I believe that my phone plays an active role in facilitating "camping" in my day to day life.

Finally, my phone is perhaps the best example I can give with regards to "footprinting", aside from my identity and transport cards! Online banking is incredibly convenient, and an increasing number of retail shops and restaurants are accepting payment via PayNow, PayLah or Google Pay. Google Pay even offers "Cashback" if you use their service to transact money. As such, I tend to favor shops that allow me to pay through these means, inadvertently altering my behavior for my convenience. This in turn allows for mobile media to "trace" my movements and track my behavior. Furthermore, quite a few of my membership information can be found on my phone, for example the McDonald's application. The value deals that I am given through the application encourages me to frequent McDonald's, especially when I cannot decide where to eat in the moment. My phone thus serves as a medium for me to actively form interpersonal relationships with commercial establishments, which in turn allows for these establishments to track my everyday behavior.

The extent to which my smartphone assists me in my day to day life is quite extreme. I could easily say that I am overly dependent on my phone for basic needs like getting from one place to the next (MyTransport App, Maps) or even getting access to restricted places in school (going to Central Library and needing a green pass from uNivUS app). As Okabe et al. articulates the 3 main ways that we use our mobile media to interact with urban public spaces, I can fully agree with their insights on Cocooning, Camping and Footprinting.

References:

Ito, M., Okabe, D., & Anderson, K. (2017). Portable objects in three global cities: The personalization of urban places. In The Reconstruction of Space and Time (pp. 67-87). Routledge.

[yamraven15]

Short To Ultrashort Peptide Hydrogels For Biomedical Usages

Dbal Types, Crazybulk Bewertung

Content

Ostarine And Ligandrol Improve Muscle Cells In An Ovariectomized Rat Model.

Technology.

Firm Overview For Sarms Ventures Restricted (.

Tumor.

Individuals often have sensations of shame and disgust at their absence of control throughout as well as after binge consuming, which can enhance that cycle of unfavorable feelings, constraint and binge consuming once again. Individuals with binge eating disorder consume huge amounts of food over a brief time period.

This not only causes boosted muscle development however also causes muscle mass retention and also the formation of brand-new muscle cells. This SARM was at first developed to assist people experiencing muscle mass loss, but it's generally used by bodybuilders to stop muscular tissue wasting. GHSRs are also located in the areas of the brain that regulate appetite, state of mind, satisfaction, memory, organic rhythms, cognitive functions, as well as memory. When you take Ibutamoren, you'll not only lose fat as well as develop muscle mass but will also feel better and more alert, improving your health and fitness efficiency. A large part of this reason is how Ligandrol increases your power.

Ostarine And Ligandrol Improve Muscle Mass Tissue In An Ovariectomized Rat Version.

You'll be able to work out for longer as well as can maintain more intense training sessions, which will certainly bring about some major muscle gains. is among one of the most powerful muscle-building SARMs on the market. It just takes a few weeks for Ligandrol to work, also after a solitary cycle. Bodybuilders will also experience other benefits when utilizing Ostarine, such as boosted bone density as well as faster recovery time. Bodybuilding offers numerous physical benefits as well as can boost your physique. When S.A.R.Ms bind to the receptor they show anabolic and hypertrophic activity in both muscular tissue as well as bone.

Individuals might locate it challenging to quit during a binge also if they wish to. Some individuals with binge eating condition have explained really feeling detached from what they're doing during a binge, or even struggling to keep in mind what they've eaten later on. Most individuals advise that the item is carried out just once every 4 weeks, dbal types.

Modern Technology.

Makers must test each item in independent research laboratories, which must provide their consent for sports supplements to appear on the marketplace. Without it, consumers may question the correctness and safety of the product as well as deny it. Some SARMs had been tested years before they were authorized for use. Although costliness is a family member term, most individuals will certainly agree that the costs of SARMs are high.

Unlike people with bulimia, they don't usually follow this by getting rid of the food via, for example, vomiting, though sometimes they could fast in between binges. BED is not about picking to eat huge parts, nor are individuals that suffer from it just "overeating"-- much from being delightful, binges are extremely distressing, usually entailing a much larger quantity of food than someone would certainly wish to eat.

Firm Summary For Sarms Ventures Restricted (.

On top of that, cycle assistance lowers the possibility you'll experience any type of negative effects. Lots of PCT supplements contain natural vitamins, minerals, and natural herbs such as ashwagandha essence, Tribulus Terrestris remove, Rhodiola Rosea essence, vitamin E, as well as saw palmetto essence. These ingredients will stabilize hormonal agents while boosting body make-up as well as your total feeling of health. But there specify supplements that body builders and also anybody taking SARMs must utilize. Supplements include vitamins, minerals, fats, amino acids, and other valuable active ingredients. Individuals take supplements for more reasons than physical fitness advantages. Supplements include important vitamins, minerals, as well as various other substances that improve your wellness.

Does Vitaminhoppe sell SARMs?

SARMs are drugs and they are not dietary supplements. Using the internet one can easily find SARMs for sale. The bigger retail stores like GNC and Vitamin Shoppe do not carry them, but the smaller independently owned supplement stores are notorious for distributing SARMs.

While BCAAs are essential to muscular tissue gain, it is suggested you take BCAAs with protein supplements, especially whey protein. BCAAs promote muscle mass protein synthesis, which is the procedure of structure muscle mass. It's likewise said that BCAAs lower muscle damages along with the size and also extent of delayed start muscle pain, urging body builders to raise a lot more. High-grade cycle assistance supplements have ingredients such as grape seed extract, Tribulus Terrestris remove, vitamin E, N-Acetyl-I-Cysteine, saw palmetto essence, celery seed extract, as well as hawthorn berry. Cycle assistance shields important bodily functions, such as cardiovascular, liver, prostate, and cholesterol health and wellness and likewise supports your high blood pressure.

Tumor.

Binges may be planned like a routine and also can entail the individual getting "special" binge foods, or they might be much more spontaneous. Individuals may most likely to extreme sizes to accessibility food-- for example, consuming food that has actually been discarded or taking food. https://highgrade-labs.com/product/mk-2866-ostarine/ consuming generally takes place in private, though the person may consume regular meals outside their binges. Individuals with binge eating problem might additionally limit their diet regimen or place in certain guidelines around food-- this can also lead to them binge eating because of hunger and also sensations of starvation.

This time I reduced weight on the scale a minimum of however visually it really did not resemble it as well as I maintained my toughness.

It deserves keeping in mind that Cardarine itself was initially recommended as a way to battle obesity.

SARM-type mass tablets from this team allow to melt fat cells without losing muscle mass cells.

SARMs for weight decrease and also help in building a new one include Ibutamoren, Cardarine as well as Endurobol.

Usually when I stop with my steroids, my toughness minimizes and also I am reducing weight.

I got it for myself, not as much to be getting mass however basically for after steroid cycle.

This would be similar to a SARMS triple stack that is typically kept up Ostarine, except there is a possibility of more size being placed on while cutting. A great dose for this method would be 3-5 mg a day for 8 weeks. LGD has actually shown the most ability of any type of SARM to put on dimension that could be thought about a bulk. rises, and also have had a significant rise in calorie consumption. An advise dosage for this kind of objective would be 5-10 mg day for 8 weeks. If you disable this cookie, we will not have the ability to conserve your preferences. This implies that every time you see this web site you will certainly require to allow or disable cookies once again.

Types Of Bonds In Biological Molecules.

Being unclear of any of the above can suggest that you should not be taking efficiency enhancers just yet-- this is since your body still has the ability to improve normally. Just when you can not improve anymore would certainly I suggest considering taking performance enhancers. Value that efficiency enhancers will not make you rub on their own. As your body responds, you might really feel an absence of hunger, but this ought to not place you off from sticking to your diet plan. The most effective SARMs to buy come with clear and also detailed guidelines.

How long should you take Mk 677?

Previous studies in humans demonstrated that daily oral administration of MK-677 in healthy older adults,8 GH-deficient adults9 for 4 weeks, and GH-deficient children10 for 7 days increased serum GH, IGF-I, and IGF binding protein (IGFBP)-3 concentrations.

A dramatically higher intramuscular fat content of the quadriceps femoris muscle was observed in the OVX+LG 4 group compared to the Non-OVX group. In OVX rats, the fat web content of the muscular tissue did not vary from that in the other teams. All rats received a soy-free rodent diet regimen (ssniff Spezial Diät GmbH, Soest, Germany) throughout the experiment. OS and LG were provided with the soy-free diet (ssniff Spezial Diät GmbH).

Strictly Required Cookie ought to be enabled in any way times so that we can conserve your preferences for cookie settings. It means that purchasers have proper defense when purchasing sports supplements, both online as well as offline. Authorities are reacting extremely quickly and also capturing scammers marketing fake SARMs.

The gastrocnemius muscular tissue, soleus muscular tissue, as well as longissimus muscular tissue were extracted. The GM and also SM were evaluated and also all muscle mass were frozen in fluid nitrogen and also kept at − 80 ° C up until more evaluations. Either left or right muscular tissues were used arbitrarily in either histological or enzyme analyses. In Experiment II, intramuscular fat content was identified in the quadriceps femoris muscle in Non-OVX, OVX, as well as OVX+LG 4 groups.

The continuing to be food in the cage was evaluated regular to compute the average daily food consumption of a rat by separating these data by days in between the weighing and number of rats in a cage. The typical day-to-day dose of OS and LG was computed based on the everyday food intake as well as the mean BW in the cage on the particular week. After 13 weeks post-OVX, all pets were euthanized under CO2 anesthetic. Blood serum was gathered for further evaluation of creatine kinase as a pen of muscle mass damages.

highgrade labs UK shredding stack Sarms : full feature set ='border: grey solid 1px;padding: 13px;'>

CRN updates guidelines on SARMs, caffeine - NutraIngredients-usa.com

CRN updates guidelines on SARMs, caffeine.

Posted: Mon, 09 Jul 2018 07:00:00 GMT [source]

If you have not gotten any type of, component 3 has been made to assist you obtain one of the most out of your cycle. Ideal for those who do not take pleasure in having a healthy and balanced level of testosterone. I in fact slimmed down no strength gets no anything generally. https://highgrade-labs.com/product/gw-501516-cardarine/ is actually better than its ever before been training is good also. It will certainly shine more-so if ran in combination with SARMS S-4 as well as Cardarine (GW ).

Nonetheless, they are still associated with venous thromboembolism and also stroke. C4 (generally known as pre-workout) delivers a boost of caffeine and also other components to increase endurance, power, as well as performance. It's suitable for bodybuilders of all levels, however you need to adhere to application directions meticulously.

OS and also LG are still being checked out in professional tests, as well as neither have actually been accepted as therapies to this point. There are no studies reporting in vivo impacts of OS and LG on postmenopausal muscle structure and also metabolic rate. The aim of the here and now study was to check out the result of OS as well as LG on the muscle mass tissue of ovariectomized rats as the standard design for postmenopausal problems. The OS impact on bone tissue as well as animal version as a component of Experiment I has actually been just recently published. Hormonal agent replacement therapy in postmenopausal ladies is related to extreme side effects, such as an enhanced threat of coronary heart disease, bust cancer, stroke, and also venous thromboembolism. Nevertheless, it is still the most reliable therapy for postmenopausal symptoms and also for carefully picked women, advantages might exceed risks. Selective estrogen receptor modulators have useful results on the musculoskeletal system like estrogen, they have fewer adverse occasions on busts and the womb.