#its mostly me talking about my mental health and being in pain almost always
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Emotional Regulation
So I have CPTSD. Everything I've read mostly points to this being a lifelong condition (yay :P) that is incredibly difficult for all of us whom suffer from it. I know it has been for me. I honestly don't know if I'd have developed it if my parents had been loving, supportive, and understanding like they should have. Because, even if they had been, I would still have likely had many many years of gas lighting from society, them, and my extended family to be a gender other than what I was. And that takes its toll on anyone's psyche.
But who knows, maybe if they'd been really supportive, then I wouldn't have had years of thinking I was crazy or shameful, maybe I would have transitioned really young as soon as I could tell them they were wrong. Then all I'd have to deal with is some body dysphoria. But then even that can take its toll as well. So I really couldn't say if I was destined to have this incredibly difficult mental health condition or not.
Either way, I really wish I'd had the loving supportive family every child deserves. I really wish I didn't find my psyche shattering as I grew up, getting stuck repeatedly at every traumatic event that I can remember, and actively forgetting everything I couldn't along with most of my other memories. Such that now, my memories consist of shattered disorganized shards scattered over the floor, most of those shards long since missing. It's really difficult to live when all you really have is now.
People talk about their childhoods like there's this linear well established timeline in their memories. It was a long time before I realized this was the typical way people remember their past. That for most people, they can remember approximately when such a memory occurred, in sequence with another. Even now, this is so foreign to me. I remember things in disjointed pieces, any one memory is not connected to any other. And few, if any, are connected to a specific time that I can locate.
Then there is the ability to remember what you did yesterday, or last week, or even last month in day to day life. That it's hard to know what's happened and what's been done recently. This was particularly bad when I was dissociating all the time, fortunately, therapy has helped with that part, and I don't do it as much and I can remember more of my day to day life. But even now, there are still significant holes in my memories of adult life. And admittedly as I struggle through my current flare of CPTSD symptoms, I sometimes wish I could dissociate like I used to so that I don't have to feel all of this horrible stuff. It hurts like hell.
If someone created the universe, they must be one of the most sadistic assholes to have ever existed, making it so healing is so effing painful, much less making thinking feeling beings feed off of one another.
In this journey of trying to heal, I've encountered many people talking about how, when we were abused as children we didn't develop our emotional regulation skills like normal loved, unabused kids do. I always found these comments or suppositions confusing. In large part due to the fact that I don't really understand what emotional regulation means. As a child, trying to survive, the only thing that worked, that made things even remotely bearable was dampening down on emotions until I didn't feel hardly anything at all. I wasn't particularly good at this, I still had feelings but they were distorted hazy half hearted things that would escape out, usually as anger, irritability, sadness, often fear, sometimes even joy would get out. But none were fully formed, or fully embraced, because if I did, then the pain would be in full force, the shame, the horror I constantly felt at what I was going through. So I did my best to damp down my emotions to almost nothing, and dissociate as much as I could so that I didn't have to feel or atleast remember feeling all those horrible things I felt. And the plus side to dissociation is that you truly only live in the moment. You can forget so much that way. You can ride the bus to school, but not remember any of it, just one moment you're at home and the next, poof, you're at school, and the next, poof, it's time to go home again and get on the bus, and poof the next you're at home again... you get the idea.
Emotions when all of the above were unsuccessful and I felt them anyway, usually it was the really really bad ones. And they were felt at 120% full blast. It was either 10 mph, or 120 mph. No inbetween. But people who talk about the ability to regulate emotions describe it as having inbetweens. Not having to feel the full blast, but not suppressing it completely either.
For the longest time when I encountered that phrase around emotional regulation, my mind just skittered past it, as it didn't make any sense to me. But I found myself thinking about it a couple months ago. And some kind fellow people with CPTSD pointed me to links that helped to explain the concept... except, those links were mostly just confusing. And unfortunately, my brain interpreted them as, "you are deficient, you're inability to regulate is your fault." Which didn't help. I honestly don't know if those explanations actually implied that, but it's what it felt like. Maybe because I didn't understand what they were saying.
Then... recently I returned to work, full time. And an interesting, if sucky, thing happened. I was fine at work, I could joke, I could laugh and have fun with coworkers and feel empathy for my patients and basically function somewhat like a typical human being in what I imagine is a healthy fashion. But as soon as I left work and went home, I had no energy left to keep the intrusive memories and emotions in check. And I would immediately start to crash. Spiraling down the rabbit hole of all those horrible memories. Nothing had specifically triggered them, it's just I ran out of spoons and they took over. I'd used up all my spoons at work.
Obviously, I'd overestimated my ability to return to full time work, but also it felt like there was an insight here. And it came down to my emotional bandwidth. If I had enough emotional energy, enough spoons, then minor triggers that normally would have lead me back down that lovely negative spiral, wouldn't actually set me off, and I could continue to function. And this was the neat part, I could continue to function without having all my walls slam down and turn everything numb. But, if I run out of that energy, if I run out of those spoons, then any little thing can set me down that self destructive spiral.
And the more I've thought about this, the more I think this is what people mean when they talk about emotional regulation. That most people have a large fount of this emotional energy to buffer against the extremes. And thus can handle day to day joys, stresses and hurtful things without completely falling apart. If this is the case then I guess I've developed some emotional regulation after all, though it's limited.
But why is it so limited? Why didn't I have any before? And the more I look at it. I see it in terms of bandwidth, energy, and/or spoons. Before, when I was having to live in survival mode, all of my emotional energy was being used to just survive. I was constantly in fight or flight. There was no energy to spare for nuance. My bandwidth was incredibly limited because so much of it was taken up with just surviving from one day to the next, with constant vigilance. But when we are no longer in those situations, and just as importantly, when we are not constantly flashing back to those situations, we start to have that bandwidth become available for the nuance. We can start feeling things in between because we have the energy to do so. It's no longer entirely about survive or die.
And that's the worst part about flashbacks. Even though I'm no longer in that constant life or death situation, those flashbacks have me believing I am. And contrary to popular media's depiction of flashbacks, most of the time it's not getting stuck in a living visual memory of an event. No, the vast majority of those flashbacks are emotional flashbacks. Getting stuck in the feelings of the event, the feelings I couldn't suppress anymore, the constant feeling of being in danger, of having my life, my very existence threatened, which brings on the constant sense of danger, of fight or flight. Which means, no emotional energy for anything else, except the extremes. Everything in my life currently can be perfectly fine, safe, wonderful even. But if I'm stuck in an emotional flashback, none of the current circumstances matter, because I'm emotionally back in survival mode, feeling constantly threatened, trying to survive, trying to decide if I need to fight or run. And if I'm stuck there... then there isn't any emotional energy left for anything else.
The really effing sucky part, is that often I don't know I'm in an emotional flashback until after it's gone away, and I can see looking back that how I was feeling didn't fit at all with what was actually happening at the time. I reacted to an outside observer in a rather extreme, or worse in a completely irrational manner. But then when I'm in the middle of it, I guess it's understandable that I have a hard time recognizing it, as all my energy is directed towards surviving, towards keeping the pain and my fears at bay.
So maybe emotional regulation is just having enough emotional energy to filter the experiences you're having into a much more nuanced pattern, rather than having to sort things into binary extremes of bad, not bad. And if that's the case, then maybe, just maybe, I am healing, because I'm starting to free up some of my bandwidth to start sorting out the nuances... even if I can't quite identify what those nuances are yet.
#trans#transgender#lgbt+#lgbtqia#lgbt#trans kids#childhood trauma#complex ptsd#trauma#family#Emotional regulation#mental health#coping#emotional flashbacks#flashbacks#emotional energy#emotional bandwidth#lgbtqia+#queer
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im scared to tell my psychiatrist i tried to end myself twice within a month (sep-oct). i dont know why i am. i have to call the office myself since im an adult now, but im really scared making phonecalls. i have to do it because its been since april that ive seen my psychiatrist but i have to do it. i dont know when ill do it, im too scared. that fear frustrates my family a lot. i feel like im already a failure of an adult and will continue to be like that forever.
today was mostly good, just uneventful until this evening. but now im feeling depressed and i want to cry until i cant anymore, but i cant cry, so i just feel bad. i dont feel tired so i dont want to sleep, but its almost midnight so i should soon. im feeling stressed out about needing to call the psychiatrist's office, so i dont feel like i can relax at all.
ive just been feeling bad a lot lately but thats not new, i say think that to myself every other week or so. whats making me sad the most right now is hating my art. i dont have any confidence in my art but i want to get better, but i dont think i ever will. i will always have mediocre talent, no matter how hard i try. i keep thinking about burning my physical art and either deleting my digital art or just even destroying my laptop, though the latter is very excessive, but i still think about it every now and then out of frustration. i want to give up but i really dont know what else id do, ive always drawn since i was very little, its always made me happy. i really want to not care how upset stopping would make people, including myself, but if i dont stop out of just purely giving up, i probably will stop because i k!lled myself.
every day is feeling the same, it even felt that way when classes were still going. i got so used to the schedule that i got used to the systematic cycle. i partially dont want classes to start again because of that, its boring and the amount of work is stressful, im just going to go back to breaking down and nearly attempting from stress and lack of confidence that i can really do this, that i can really power through and get the degree i want. i keep getting told im smart and always work hard, but that really doesnt mean anything now. being and doing those things doesnt suddenly mean that because of those things, ill survive the stress. it only actually makes it worse, like im ridiculous for feeling the pressure and have the mental health collapses that i do because of college, that im not trying hard enough and am lazy.
for some reason the desire for love has been on my mind and i dont know why, youve seen the pathetic longing things i say about romance. right now i feel like i am missing out and am a failure by societal standards for not even have dated in my life, and i still dont have a partner at 18 years old. i feel extremely lonely to the point that seeing other couples makes me depressed, which is probably selfish of me. i feel like and believe now that i will always be alone. i know i am not beautiful to anyone, i know i am not funny, i am not interesting, im a pain in the ass, im too much to deal with and am just unlovable in general. i hate feeling this way, i never cared about romance or relationships and have always been repulsed at the idea of me ever being loved romantically or being in a relationship. i feel stupid. i feel like a jerk. i feel like i deserve to be alone forever, and i really do. or maybe, just end myself, if im so unlovable in every way, then why not just weed myself out? whoever takes my place will be much more worth it than i ever could be. its so stupid thinking about myself d*ing from a broken heart. "just grow up, sad excuse of a grown adult." (in quotes because its a direct thought to myself towards myself, nobody else)
i really doubt everything will get better, ive felt this same exact way for 3 years now. sad, burntout, stressed, like im nothing but a problem for my family, a burden and waste of time to be around or talk to or care about. i did attempt once in 2021 but failed, obviously im still alive. i really want to try again. im really scared of pain, so im trying to find the quickest way or the least painful option. if i just call, i can get different meds or a different dosage and i wont feel this terrible. im so childish for an adult to be unable to make a fucking phonecall. i feel like next year might be it, im not sure why i get that feeling, but i dont have any reason to keep going. im not looking forward to anything. nothing is really that fun or exciting, i just try to distract myself. i know im not wanted, and im too difficult for my family.
its now a half hour after midnight because im incapable of shutting the fuck up. i might just lay down and watch youtube or cry myself to sleep, whichever happens first
#vent#tw sui ideation#tw sui vent#tw sui attempt#long post#well this escalated fast#i am useless and pathetic. i am going to remain this way forever. the only way out is to just disappear i think. im tired of being alive
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Getting to the end of a book is always so tough - I've been with Valen and Fang for two and a half years, and now that it's winding down I feel lots of things. I'm sad because it's almost over, I'm excited to finish because the ending is going to make everything all right (I've done some terrible things recently, narratively speaking), and I'm ready to be dome with this story. I will admit that The Dragon Prince's Consort hasn't exactly been up to what I originally planned, but several people have already said they love it so I think I'll take the W.
I've definitely learned a huge lesson from this one: the quality of my writing suffers when I don't take the time I need to really focus on the story and characters. Maybe my readers are happy, but I certainly think I can do better. I'm not COMPLETELY dissatisfied, I just think I should have waited until I finished the story in its natural time as opposed to trying to stay a couple of weeks ahead of my posting schedule. I'd already finished STARFISH long before I had a Wattpad account, so I was under SIGNIFICANTLY less pressure each week. I can do GREAT work under pressure, but to do so consistently is REALLY BAD for my mental health as well as the quality of said work.
That leads me to the next book. I'm of the camp that if I talk about a project too much, I'll squeeze all the dopamine out of it and be stuck with a project I don't feel excited about anymore. That being said, I wonder if it would help promote my next book better if I did talk about it more. I want to do a LOT of different things with this one, I want it to be grittier and a lot more R-rated but with my usual moments of genuine emotion and character development. I see it as a vehicle to talk about mental health (anxiety and PTSD mostly), class, deep trust and less... mainstream forms of romantic/platonic relationships. I have a nifty new species and a character who I think will appeal to anyone who loves a morally gray MMC, especially a filthy-mouthed one who's seen some shit and doesn't really care much about things like "laws". I'll be playing with ideas like found family, the bitter outcasts rebelling against the systems that abandoned them, the difference between being a law-abiding person and a good one, the blurry lines between love and trust, and the complicated, messy relationship between two VERY angry, traumatized people who just happen to have complimentary issues.
I think it'll be a lot of fun, especially when all that anger, frustration and bottled-up pain bleeds into sexual tension and the need to love and be loved comes up against one's personal fears and feelings 😉 Up til now, my characters have gotten along very well and I'm excited to write something a bit more combative. Not abusive, mind you, just less inclined to immediate trust but not immune to the occasional "Let's just get this out of our systems so we can get back to work" shenanigans 😁 It could be a really dark, twisted romance but I think I'm going to lean more towards "darkly funny/sexy enemies-to-lovers revenge road trip"!
If you made it this far, thanks! Like most writers will tell you, there's your plan - and then there's the book's plan. I have NO IDEA if this one will follow the script or if my lovingly-constructed plot will veer off into complete anarchy. Probably the latter. But, this should be an interesting little experiment, writing about writing and making more of an effort to share my writing. Is it going to be corny? Probably. It's romance, the genre that has more corn than the entire Midwest. Am I going to stick with it? WHO KNOWS! We're going to find out together! YAY!
#writers on tumblr#creative writing#writeblr#fiction#author#authors#booklr#scifi romance#book blog#romance#meta writing#about writing#experimentation#let's see what happens
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You: no one asked for another one of these
Me: yeah i know sorry i just have a lot of emotions and shit lately
(Haha thats a lie all i feel lately is annoyed and pain)
Anyway yes I’m going to complain more about life cause i have some emotions i need to get out and shit. Okay I’m very much a night owl, I have been my whole life, I work better t night and just love the night sky and shit. However 8th grade I was really, super, hella depressed cause of family stuff and school and being totally alone and you know the depression (thanks genes!), so I’d be absolutely TERRIFIED to be left alone with my thoughts. I’d stay up all night on youtube or some cringey website or on tumblr just so I didn’t have to lay in bed and think. Also very closeted, very depressed baby Alex had no idea wtf a healthy coping mechanism was, so I cut and it was bad like an every night thing cause after I did I was suddenly really tired and could almost sleep instantly once it hit like 2-3 am. Anyway I fucked my sleeping schedule up at a very young age, so that habit never left and the earliest I go to bed anymore is 12-12:30, whatever im used to it, not good for me but whatever. Then summer started and I didn’t sleep till like 1am-2am so I chalked it up to “it’s summer whatever”, but then it was 2 am-3am and I thought that was a one time thing, but nope. Now (as in the past week/week and a half ish) I’m lucky to get 2-3 hours of sleep and even then I’m up at like 9 am. As you can imagine this has lead to a good amount of problems, but first one additional thing. Now it’s just me and my mom at our house, but because of hour cuts and paying for school and catching up on bills and other shit we don’t really have a ton of money which means we don’t have a ton of food which means what we have we have to make last. With that being said back track to me getting 2-3 hours of sleep, now my body’s tired and I’m exhausted I just wont go to fucking sleep, but I’m hungry as hell. We didn’t have cereal and milk for awhile, so that left me with pasta like I said I’m exhausted so pasta involves cooking, but I couldn’t do it. I knew I’d be too tired half way through the water boiling to finish let alone eat anything. Also cause we don’t have a ton of money I’d get 2 free meals a day in school so I wouldn’t go a whole day (or week) without eating real food (i mean it was gross government food but it got the job done), but in summer I didn’t get that so I just havent eaten really all summer like i could probably count on my hands how many actual meals ive eaten all summer. So the not eating mixed with the not sleepings fucking awful as you can imagine.I had a headache so bad I had to close my curtains put on sunglasses cover my head with a blanket and put my ice on my head in an attempt to help ease the pain, but WAIT THERES MORE. Every bone in my body constantly feels like it needs to crack and im just constantly really achey (idk if that has to do anything but it hurts like hell) Ive tried stretching and resting but it doesnt help, BUT THERES EVEN MORE!! The not eating!! I can feel my stomach being totally empty besides some water and that shit fucking hurts (idk how baby Alex did that shit) AND A FINAL THING your boy was born with god awful child bearing parts and guess what came up?! That’s right devil week so i feel like someones just stabbing me with a pitchfork while also trying to eject food thats not there. Therefore the past few nights Ive basically been clutching my stomach and head, the heating pad isnt helping, and pain killers arent helping much.
At this point youre probably like “dude just some nyquil” which yeah youre right i should but we didnt have extra money this week to buy any and we dont have any so thats why i didnt do that. Also like I said before I /am/ tired, im really fucking tired and i dont really have thoughts its more like fast and loud static and like energy i have to get out or i get uncomfortable, so the past few nights (last night was really bad) Im up clutching and rocking and snapping and tapping my feet just trying to get rid of that energy. It comes a little bit in the day i was talking to a friend and typing so fucking fast while also thinking about some oc idea and then BAM no energy at fucking all like i had to lay down. This also leads into ive been trying to read out loud to myself so i can try to get my voice lower cause my voice bothers the hell out of me, but i cant focus for longer than like 5 minutes cause of loud static and extra energy and being tired and my eyes being tired so its really frustrating.
The thing is i go to a psychiatrist for my meds and what she told me (idk if this is true everywhere or just how she is) that i had like textbook bipolar but becaue at the time i was ike 14/15 they didnt want to diagnose it cause i was still young. Bipolar runs in my family, just like depression and anxiety, so i wasnt super suprised by that and as i got older i got less scared (theres nothing scary about people with bipolar btw i just didnt know what to expect or think cause of how i saw it in like movies and stuff) i thought maybe i wasnt and i just had highs and lows like everyone else, but looking back i can see that the highs and lows were really extreme and like i said before i was super suicidal last year and just kinda gave up and earlier this summer it took a lot of energy to do anything, but this isnt like doing reckless things kinda high like it normally is and it fucking suck ass guys. On top of that my ever so supporting lately mother was like “look up manic episodes” so i told her i know what it is but she just pushed to look it up so i did and of course i made a joke about increased sexual activity (which my virgin is not) and looked like yes i know. (side note dw too much im going to the doctors tomorrow and im gonna see what i can do about my meds and stuff).
So yeah sorry for another shitty life update (not including tons of dysphoria, isolation, and more self hate but whatevs)
#personal#tw suicide mention#tw self harm#i also mention not eating but it wasnt/isnt like an ed#i dont think so anyway#its mostly me talking about my mental health and being in pain almost always#sorry for another one of these#honestly i might start posting one once a week to get some shit out
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martyrtodd, my beloved, I see your disability takes and as someone who is physically and mentally disabled I appreciate them and hold them close to my heart.
I humbly ask for some disabled Jason headcanons
goosey my beloved <3 im so glad you're enjoying them and i offer mere samples on how far deep the disabled jason todd rabbit hole can go <3
im mixing in some that he should just canonly have and personal hcs (plus a bit of self projection) but hopefully you'll like any of these too :3
schizoaffective disorder
more prone to mania outbursts
can be extremely delusional
paranoia and anxiety -> isolating
psychosis
(lots of people give him hallucinations due to his ptsd but i think he experiences a range of it and in different levels of intrusiveness!)
(and fun fact, children under 16 who experienced trauma are more than 3x likely to have psychosis as an adult! up to 50x if its severe!)
autistic
literally just a given. look at him. autism coded.
deaf/hard of hearing
always had poor hearing
fast visual learner because of it
has multiple pairs of hearing aids he wore as robin to "keep his identity secret"
bruce taught him asl
batman and robin used a lot of nonverbal cues and their own version of sign language on patrol too. (batman teaches it to the others when hes gone and jason cries)
as a kid he had a gun shot near him & developed tinnitus
^ only worsened as time went on
it gets overbearing after he comes back to life due to the beating he received and literally dying in an explosion
it continued until he got Lazarus Pitted. but that ringing was replaced with silence & most of his hearing fully gone
gains more due to close proximity with firearms and explosions constantly
terrifies him as his hearing loss got worse.
like full on sobbing terrifies.
he spent his entire life relying on his senses and wayne techs always improving technology to keep himself and others safe. with that fully removed it leaves him feeling vulnerable
'how will i know if im alone? if someone is sneaking up on me or im being too loud? if someone is screaning for help just out of eyesight?'
so much fear !
but! he grows to accept it and use it to his advantage and
helmet rigged to have sensors that alert him of almost anything around him
and so sensitive to the vibration of any sound to where he can pinpoint anyone
will close his eyes/remove his hearing aids when arguing so he doesnt 'hear' them
really into heavier music for the bass and drum vibration
fully deaf by the time he reaches his 30s
speech
(this one can be effected by all but)
severe speech delay as a child
repeated lines/quotes mostly to express his feelings because he's autistic and its easier than coming up with the words yourself
semi nonverbal
damaged vocal cords, gets hoarsed easily/painful to talk for too long
stims by clicking his tongue against his teeth
^^ became a tic !
chronic pain
a given for anyone but especially jason
from the streets and not being able to afford a doctor
to as robin and the injuries he received
to dying
to being forcefully brought back to life
to the Lazarus Pit
just so much pain. he cant remember a time he wasnt in pain. its the one thing that'll always be consistent no matter what.
chronic migraine haver, u can tell
talia tries her best to help ease it and make sure he has meds/the fake id and doctor to keep his prescriptions
his shoulder, head, and hips get the worse flares
would push himself as robin too much and made it worse
allows his body the rest as an adult, using that time to do his scheming and think of every detail/possible route in it
misc.
had NAS
picks at his skin if overstressed
being poor can and will make your health worse. from stress to not being able to get the help you need and something small becoming chronic or permanent
extreme fatigue
so many burns and damaged nerve tissue :(
i think about that one batwoman comic where he lost an eye in a future timeline constantly
OCD
periodically gets bad tremors in his hands
again. so fucking autistic coded.
#i wanna talk on the schizoaffective thing in a separate post eventually because#as someone that struggles with psychosis and has a mood disorder.... yea <3#jason is a bad bitch bc hes autistic and has at least one (1) cluster B disorder#ANYWAYS !#super sorry for how long this took i had ... a day... but hopefully theres something you like in it :3#the fun part of making a character disabled is that ur just. never wrong.#goosey my beloved#company in the crypt#jason todd#the d in dcu is for disabled
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I've found the best RWBY fans to interact with are the ones who like the show but still acknowledge its flaws.
Like, so much of the FNDM seems to have this "All or Nothing" mentality where you either unconditionally love and praise everything Rooster Teeth does or base your entire personality around hating everything Rooster Teeth has so much as breathed on, and honestly both extremes are horribly unhealthy.
I mostly agree with this, though I feel like it's worth pointing out that a lot of the "unconditional love" fans are really just fed up with the years' worth of negativity on the part of people who make hating the show their entire identity. I think it stems from the YouTubers, to be honest. For a lot of them, producing content is an actual job. While I don't personally care for that content and have no interest in watching any RWBY YouTuber, I can't dunk on any of them too hard because they actually get paid to do this and I'm well aware that there's a certain price for which my personal integrity is for sale: if it meant I would never have to sacrifice my physical and mental health working 40-60 hours a week ever again, if it meant I'd have time for myself and the people I care about, if it meant I could devote myself to the things I love or use my hypothetical wealth to make the world around me better... yeah, I'd absolutely base my brand around hating a show and appealing to shitheads, as long as I'm not expected to start shoving people down the alt-right pipeline. I like to think there's somewhere I'd draw the line, that there are things I wouldn't do for money, but the thought of not being fucking miserable and in physical pain at almost all times is really tempting.
Anyway, the point is that for at least some of these people, hating on RWBY is an actual job, as stupid as it sounds. It puts food on the table, which means they have a vested interest in building their brand, which means promoting their content and getting it exposure, which in turn means that avoiding negativity can take actual effort and isn't always as simple as just blocking people you don't like if you want to participate in fandom spaces that aren't total echo chambers. I don't know how blocking works on reddit because I mostly use my reddit account to look at pictures of breasts, but what I do know is that even going to the main RWBY subreddit to do something like read the reaction thread to a new Ice Queendom episode runs a not-insignificant risk of at least passively exposing me to the newest stupid take to escape quarantine in r/rwbycritics. As a result, there's a subset of the audience that feeds itself by whipping up negativity, by targeting emotional responses, that can be pretty hard to escape. I don't blame people who just don't want to deal with it anymore for responding defensively, though I'll concede that it can make having nuanced discussion... difficult.
This is not to say that everyone who is critical of RWBY is exactly the same. What most people think of when they talk about the critical side of the community contains people with anything from the relatively uncontroversial belief that the Battle of Haven was poorly choreographed or that some of the early voice acting wasn't very good to people with spicy hot takes like "Team RWBY are the real villains" and "Blake abused Adam and ruined his life". I guess I'm technically a critic, given that I post about things I like about RWBY, things I dislike, things I think worked well and things I think didn't, and then try to support and explain my views, but I don't really like thinking of myself that way because I don't want to be lumped in with the more extreme elements of either RWDE or rwbycritics. It's why I use the "analysis" tag instead of "rwde" (well, that and I think using "rwde" inherently sets a more hostile tone than I'm going for in a lot of cases).
I do think it's funny that RWDE and rwbycritics frequently come at the show from completely opposite directions (think "I'm worried that Rooster Teeth is using Bumbleby to string queer viewers along with the promise of representation without ever delivering on it" vs. "Rooster Teeth defiled Monty's memory* by making his action show political (read: gay)" and think the possibility for friendly fire between the two is hilarious. My solution is simple:
So yeah, the critics ("critics") definitely annoy me more than the people who are just relentlessly positive (though this may be because I've never personally experienced the harassment that each group supposedly directs at the other) given that most of the people who like the show at least engage with the text in good faith, while certain critics... do not. There are definitely a couple RWDE blogs that I think are reasonable, and even r/rwbycritics will inadvertently generate something resembling a coherent thought every once in a while, but I don't particularly care to engage with that community beyond browsing it once in a while out of curiosity because the good isn't worth wading through the garbage. RWDE is better in the sense that content is associated with specific blogs rather than threads posted to a subreddit, meaning that if someone posts nothing but stupid takes you don't want to interact with, you can just block them.
As for Rooster Teeth the company, I'm not an expert on its history by any means, but I know they've had issues with crunch in the past, I'm aware of the drama after Monty's death, and I know their brand was built on dudebro humor, so like... I'm sure there's been plenty to criticize in the past and is still plenty to criticize now, but I don't really care about Rooster Teeth beyond the fact that it produces RWBY and don't watch any of the studio's non-RWBY-related content. There's really not much I can give anyone here. Other people are a lot more invested in the company one way or another than I am.
*I really hate the "Monty's vision" argument. Nothing proves a point like dragging a dead man's name into your argument so you can pretend you knew what he wanted better than the people who actually knew and worked with him. Just utterly classless.
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Hey Kate I hope you feel better soon 🧡
I guess just a vent post, validation for these emotions i have.
probably last year I realised how bad my loneliness is. Being someone who was always surrounded by people, having things happening that I didn't realise until now. I haven't ever been in a relationship for 25 years. To be fair it never bothered me much until now? I realised how badly I also want to be seen as a priority for someone. Just once. I used to put people, friends as a priority but I wasn't ever happy with how much I got back. I learned and grew some harsh lessons. My only friends I dont really see much at all now because everyone is busy in their life, mostly have their romantic relationships or so.
It sucks because I noticed a change, things ain't the same anymore. I miss how times were like before. It made me realise how much I also crave to be wanted romantically (I always had but never felt the urge?) Until now. Its to the point where I feel resentment with people. I know I feel spiteful, probably because of my lack of ever knowing how it feels to be loved pursued and wanted romantically.
Sometimes I've had comments from friends which made me feel it more, like people almost think somethings wrong with me. I remember a friend mentioned how idk how you survive without anyone, which, I was taken aback by. I have no issues being with my self, I can be content with my own company. Its just the lifelong loneliness that people like me have who never got to experience "love". Its hard to explain to people bc truthfully they don't get it, not when they can't last being single. Ugh lol idk I guess it just hits when you think of everything combined, comments and it really makes you think. I had to stop speaking to a friend during my mental health not being the greatest, I just couldnt stay in contact all the time, it felt draining. Which I expressed truthfully and she respected it. But she had gotten into a relationship and it felt like I heard less about her anyways since. Its like the same cycle with people around me, I truly feel friendships are just as important as other relationships. Because of all different things happening, plus this, I just grew resentment. I acknowledge its not the most healthy thing, but for once I'm allowing myself to feel something negative? No one talks about how feeling jealously is really like, its still an emotion. But viewed negatively. I wish people spoke more on it so I could feel less bad about the way I feel, so I dont keep pushing people away afraid of my own feelings.
Whew. Idk if I'll get a response back but it felt good releasing it. Thank you for giving the space
To be honest I totally get the frustration you describe and I honestly don't blame you for struggling with this situation. Feeling unloved and like no one you care about is prioritizing you is really fucking painful and there's no shame in that. I don't have an obvious solution for you, but I get it and I'm sending all my love.
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Seven Stages of Being thrown into Teenage Superherodom
Stage 1: Panic
@marijon-week Day 1: Blue Eyes / Identity Reveal
@t1dwarrior-of-earth
Here *** Second
~~~~~~~~~~
Ever since Fu made her Guardian she left Paris. The Kwamii convinced her that the stress of being ladybug and the mental, and now physical, abuse of her classmates has become too much. Her parents also noticed her shift and they supported her leaving.
This was how she found herself in Blüdhaven. She was a student at Gotham Academy, but with Gotham's high crime rate they wanted somewhere safer for her. Sure she could have also chosen Metropolis, but the commute from Blüdhaven was shorter.
She will be the first to admit that it wasn't ideal, but for her mental health it was great. And with complete honesty and sincerity she wouldn't change a thing.
You see one thing that apparently gets overlooked is that Nightwing is the resident vigilante of Blüdhaven. Even more is the fact that he happens to be her neighbor.
OK so maybe a little bit backtracking here. Marinette may have figured out that her next-door neighbor, Detective Richard Grayson, happens to moonlight as Nightwing at night.
So the building they had chosen for her was extremely safe, however they didn’t take an account Marinette's extremely packed and late work schedule. With how Marinette would still be awake in the early morning hours, and if she heard a thump of boots on the balcony next to hers regularly, she is going to look out the window eventually.
When she does, she sees Nightwing at her neighbor's apartment. Which could be one of two possible reasons why Nightwing could be there. One, his significant other lived in that apartment and he just came regularly. Or two, he lived there and assumed every sane person was asleep.
Her question was eventually answered one night when she was at the desk next to her balcony door, she heard boots like normal, but this time they were closer than normal, this time they were on her balcony.
The door moved, causing her to turn and focus on the door. That was when a male voice muttered, I thought I left it unlocked like always.
So most people would have quietly left, but she wasn't most she opened the blinds. She is pretty sure she had a stare down with him but its difficult to say because at the mask.
However after countless akuma attacks, you tend to figure out who the target is, which is what she did. Same height, same rough build, same hit and skin tone, combined with her ability to recognize figures for fashion, that gives you Richard Grayson. Without breaking eye contact she got up, stepped to the door, opened it and pulled him in, shutting it and the blinds, turning to face him. Then is when she noticed the blood near his hair line and down his neck.
“There better be an extremely good reason why this happened Mr. Grayson.” She looked innocently at him, “because I don’t know how to explain.” She gestured to him now seated at her desk. She pulled out her first aid kit and started checking him.
“How did you find out?”
“Night owl,” she shrugged. “I hear you come in every night and well um, well...”
“Curiosity got the best of you.” She nodded.
Of course this was when her phone would go off, she grabbed it, opened it, and groaned, because of course she was being called a Paris in the middle of the night, morning over there.
“You know what you're still alive, just a superficial head injury, but I have to go.” She said moving towards her bedroom when Mr. Grayson finally reacted.
“I’m supposed to�� you said you were 14 right?” She nodded. “I’m supposed to let a 14 year-old leave in the middle of the night?”
“I am, I can explain in the morning.” She tried to justify, but he wouldn't let go of her wrist. So in a leap of faith, she gave him a quick rundown of the Paris situation and why she had to leave. If after this Blüdhaven had another vigilante well no one else knew why, Trixx loved it though. And she had someone who not only knew who she was but knew how to help and train her. Even if he acted more like a brother to her.
After all the eyes are the windows to the soul, and as a true guardian and a pure soul of creation, she knows that she can trust Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson’s.
- - -
It’s almost humorous that the next pair of eyes she would this come to trust were a blue so electric that they seemed to hold Lightning itself. Those eyes belong to one Jonathan Samuel Kent.
She had actually met John while in class at Gotham Academy, but nothing much more than their initial meeting and a good morning in the halls. This was pretty much because he seemed to stick with Damian Wayne, the ice Prince of Gotham. And green eyes always hurt her in the past, so she mostly stayed away from them.
However the fates had another plan for them. A group project, yay was sarcastically running through her head because of course, the two people she was partnered with happened to be two pairs of eyes that made an impression on her originally.
“So, should we go to your place, or should we go to the library, oh maybe we should go to Damien’s, or maybe mine to work on this.” Jon rapid fired at her and Damian, as they well she moved in order to talk about the project.
“I um... I’m not exactly...” she couldn’t even finish the sentence before Damian butt in.
“Tt figure this out and inform me later.” With that he go up and walked away. And go figure her assumption that everyone with green eyes were complete and total dicks is just reinforced. Because if you’ve never had a good experience with anything or anyone who shares the same traits why would it be any different now.
“Maybe we should just meet at the café or at the library just get this over with.” She got up with the bell, turned on her heel, leaving Jon sitting at the desk she just vacated.
She heard of a soft, “oh ok” as she walked away.
But of course nothing ever was easy in her life. Because the next thing she knows she hears foot falls behind her, they were actually picking up speed, and then stomps as if they were trying to stop right behind her. That was when I hand wrapped itself around her wrist making her spin and face the person who grabbed her.
In that moment she didn’t think, she reacted, she reacted like every other time one of her classmates decided to hurt her. It was a motion that came as naturally as breathing while in her civilian form, so much so that she would bet her heartbeat wouldn’t have changed. She dropped the books and book bag from her arms and shoulder lifting her arms defensively to protect her head and she pushed her shoulders forward , defend her head, in an attempt to stop a blow. But the swing never came, no weight, no pressure, no kick, no pain, just silence.
She tentatively opened her previously shut eyes eyes and looked forward, towards where the hand had originally pulled her, to the person who pulled her, she saw Jon, shocked at her reaction and then that turned to fear almost, it seemed to her, as if he was wondering if he did something wrong, if he hurt her, quickly she tugged her arm away from him and dropped to the ground and tried to pick up her items. However what shocked her was that he also dropped down and tried to help her pick up her things.
She looked up as he handed her a stack, “I forgot to ask you for your number so we can do a group chat. Are you OK?”
“Oh yeah yeah I’m fine.” She pulled a pen quickly from her bag and a sticky note, she usually uses to annotate her sketches and class notes come on, “here.” She handed him the piece of paper, Marinette got up and started to walk away again, as to not miss her next class.
By the end of the day, she found out that Jon can can text her head off. She always tries to respond to text quickly but this boy spammed the chat trying to get to know her better. If she was Damian, and she figured he did, she would’ve silenced the conversation, but it would be rude of her not answer.
Eventually they did figure out a an arrangement, Damian was going to go meet a brother after school so he wouldn’t be available meaning that she and Jon would start the project. So they decided to open a chat just between the two of them and figured it out from there.
Seeing as both of them lived outside of Gotham they decided it would be a little bit safer to meet at Marinette’s and John would leave from her apartment. And that is what they did, together the two of them left Gotham Academy after school, took the train to Blüdhaven and got into study mode. They worked in relative peace, researching and writing down ideas until there was a knock on the door. Marinette made her way up to the door, looked through and there stood Dick. So she opened the door, yet what got her attention was not just her pseudo Brother but the person who is with him. This person just happened to be the missing member of their project group, Damian.
“Hey Mari, I thought I would introduce you to my baby brother!” He beamed then noticing the other person in the room. “Hey Jon.” He greater and then took a double take “Jon!!!”
“Hey Dick, Damian.” He smiled.
“Tt. Anyone care to explain this.” Damian glared between her and his brother.
“Wow something the boy wonder doesn’t know.” She muttered under her breath, apparently it wasn’t quite quiet enough as some reacted.
“She knows?!?” Jon directed towards Dick and Damian.
“Know what?” She bit the bullet.
“Boy Wonder!?!” He seemed to shout just loud enough to get their attention. This did cause a reaction, Dick almost looked proud but Damian seemed ready to attack her.
“Okay I knew you were clever but seriously?!”
“Not the time Dick!” She moved so the kitchen island was between her and Damian. That was when something clicked Boy Wonder, Robin, Damian is Robin. Dick is Nightwing, both work with Batman. Jon heard her the others didn’t, Robin is close with… oh sweet honey iced tea. “ Dick please please tell me that I’m wrong!”
“I’m going with no your right.” Thump went her head as it fell onto the counter unrestrained.
“Why can’t my life be normal?” She asked no one in particular.
“You are a magical girl who can use the power of mini sized gods who you also protect.” Dick supplied ever so helpfully.
“Not helping!” She glared at him.
“Your life wasn’t normal long before we met.”
“Still.” She grumbled. Damian and Jon were now watching her and Dick interact as if trying to figure something out. Ping. Her phone went off. “Oh come on.” She fell back on the counter.
“Who is it this time?” Dick asked.
She tossed the phone to him. “I hate elementals.” A livestream of Stormy Weather ravaged the city of Paris.
“Cookies?”
“Cookies, I’ll be back.” He tossed her a box from her pantry. Special macaroons for the kwamii.
“Wait! Let me come with you.”
“And how many times have I told you that would be a bad idea.”
“But…”
“No, don’t make me call Honey Bee to venom you again.”
He slowly backed up and sat on the couch dragging Damian with him. “I’ll um… I’ll hold down the fort. Don’t call Goldie.”
“I won’t.” She turned to go to her room. “Oh there is fresh cookies in the jar.”
She silently transformed and portaled away. Luckily her team was already there and they made quick work of the Akuma. Meaning she was back near instantly.
“That was quick.”
“Viperion was there.”
“How many times?”
“Dunno.”
“Liar.”
“Am not.”
“You are.” Jon interjected into their bickering.
“Who’s side are you on anyways?” She asked out.
“I have no idea.”
“Great we broke Superboy.” She plopped down on the couch next to a stunned Jon. “If only… Fluff.”she smiled, and knowing that smile Dick panicked. “Fluff. Hey Fluff.”
“Oh no time travel is what got you into this time travel will not get you out.” Dick jumped landing on her keeping her seated.
“What it’s going fine?!“ Jon screamed at them, looking pretty close to a mental break down, she should know.
“You didn’t explain anything did you.” She looked on up from her position under a pile of a Dick and pillows.
“I was meaning to come up with the cookies were good and kind of had my mouthful.”
“OK great so here’s the rundown. Hello my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I was chosen at the age of 13 to wield the Miraculous of the Ladybug which grants me the power of creation and healing. I moved Blüdhaven and enrolled into Gotham Academy because of my utterly deteriorating mental health as a result of bullying in my previous school. Not to mention the magical terrorist who prays on sad or negative emotions, who happens to be using the Miraculous Butterfly or the miraculous of transmission. My partner uses the miraculous of the black cat which grants them the power of destruction, but he’s a total and complete asshole, but that’s not surprising. I was then given full guardianship of every single miraculous in the Chinese zodiac box, the most powerful of all of them the tender age of 14. I figured out that Dick was Nightwing about a month after I moved in and afterwards I have been going out into with him as he’s in as the vigilante Vulpes. And I literally just figured out you are Robin,” she pointed at Damian. “And you are Super Boy,” she pointed at Jon, “because of you’re a little outburst. I would not have figured it out otherwise! And I’m totally not I am going crazy because now there is a total of three people who know my identity in another country, no less, and I’m sure I can figure out the rest of the Bat family from here but I so I don’t want to.“ She was able to breathe now, after having explained this in just under a minute.
She looked between both Damian and Jon noticed they both looked as if she was either crazy or that certainly made a lot of sense, or a mixture of both she really can’t tell.
“You were bullied.“ Jon seemed to only take away. “That actually explains earlier.” He said just load enough for her to hear, as they were still next to each other.
“I’m not going over this again.“ She huffed, causing Dick to roll off of her laughing onto the ground and she followed suit. “You know there’s a reason I’ve always trusted blue eyes.” That was the beginning of and inseparable friendship between her and Damian, and something more between her and Jon.
None of them quite knew that at the time.
Next
~~~~~~~~~~
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In 2020 Singapore was hit by a series of coronavirus outbreaks, centred around dormitories where thousands of migrant workers live. Cases have dropped significantly, but most of the men are still not permitted to leave except to go to work. It is one of the longest periods of Covid confinement faced by anyone anywhere in the world.
"This is prison life. This is a captive's life."
Sharif came to Singapore in 2008. At the time, his wife was pregnant and the book stall he ran in Bangladesh was shut down.
Over the past 13 years he made a life for himself here, but since early 2020 all he has known are the four walls of his dormitory and the construction site where he works.
He and nearly 300,000 others are banned from mixing with the general public. Last week, Singapore's government said it would allow a handful of workers to go out in a "pilot scheme".
"I appreciate the experiment," he says. "But I can't express much joy at this news. Workers are only allowed to go to a certain place for a fixed time."
Sharif was not one of those selected for the scheme. Sitting on the back of the lorry that takes him to work, he often catches glimpses of the city and its people, who have never been subject to the same restrictions.
"When I see everybody outside, looking happy, it's very painful for me," he told the BBC on a video call.
"They are eating out, going shopping, meeting their friends. And I think, 'why is that not me? Did I make this coronavirus?'"
Most of his spare time he spends lying on the top bunk of his bed, either talking to his family or writing prose and poetry - both in English and Bengali.
He says night time is when things are most difficult. Men often wander the corridors or try to sleep outside on the ground.
"I lie in my bed and sleep won't come. How can I sleep? I need fresh light, I need fresh oxygen," he says.
'Are we animals?'
On the first day of the pilot scheme, the BBC was invited to Singapore's Little India neighbourhood.
Fifty workers were allowed to spend four hours out of their dormitories unsupervised.
A spokesman for the Ministry of Manpower (MOM) called it a "milestone".
At one of Singapore's main Hindu temples, two men were presented to journalists.
One of them, Packrisamy Muruganantham from India, told those assembled that he was "very happy to be out" and "very grateful to the Singapore government and to the MOM for taking care of us".
Since the start of the pandemic, Singapore has reported 58 deaths out of a population of 5.7 million.
The country's success in suppressing the virus has afforded Singaporeans long periods of freedom over the past year and a half.
But even when restrictions were at their toughest and the country was locked down, no healthy person in Singapore was ever banned from leaving their home.
Socially-distanced exercise, for example, was encouraged. But not for those in the dormitories.
"The communal living and working conditions of migrant workers in dorms put them at higher risk of infection and the formation of large clusters," Singapore's Manpower Minister Dr Tan See Leng said in February.
Dr Tan declined an interview with the BBC, but in a statement a Ministry of Manpower (MOM) spokesperson said the policy of keeping workers in their dormitories was "to protect the health of our migrant workers and to mitigate the risk of further transmission".
For Sharif, it feels more like he is being punished rather than protected.
"Everybody in the community is allowed out. All these people are expected to follow the social distancing rules, but they think we cannot do this also," he says.
"When I see a law only for migrant workers I think, 'Are we not human? Or are we animals? Do we not understand anything? Are we so uneducated?'"
A wake-up call
The men in the dormitories - mostly from South Asian countries - do vital manual work here.
They build the country's roads, bridges and apartments. In return, they are able to send back good money to their families.
Tasrif - also from Bangladesh - arrived in 2017. He is 25, earns less than $750 (S$1000; £400) a month and maintains air conditioning units.
He spent around $7,500 in agency fees to come to Singapore.
"We are working tirelessly for the country," he says. "We're making everything, we're doing everything for you guys."
"We are human beings just like you, like everyone in the community. We want our dignity back."
But life in the dormitory typically means sharing a room with up to 30 people and dividing your bathroom, cooking and recreational space with hundreds more.
These conditions led to major Covid-19 outbreaks in dormitories back in March 2020. Big clusters meant Singapore went from being almost untouched by the virus to announcing an island-wide shutdown for two months.
It prompted Tommy Koh, a former Singaporean ambassador to the UN, to rebuke the government recently.
"We should use this as a wake up call," said Mr Koh. "To treat our indispensable foreign workers like a first world country should and not in the disgraceful way in which they are treated now."
But Singapore's government has always been open about separating dormitory residents from everyone else in the country.
They hold a different visa, work under different labour laws and the authorities do not pretend that these men have the same rights as other foreigners who do the white collar jobs in the city.
Even official daily case numbers for Covid-19 are split into three categories: "Imported", "Dormitory residents" and "Community".
"Community" means everyone, apart from those living in a dormitory.
The figures are stark. As of 16 September, migrant workers accounted for 74% of all recorded cases. For context, the workers make up just 5% of Singapore's total population.
Last year several media outlets reported on a spate of suicides and attempted suicides in the dormitories.
When asked by the BBC about the current situation, the MOM declined to provide any details.
Instead, they said they were "always mindful and conscious of the need to better support the mental wellbeing of our migrant workers" and that they offer counselling services and a helpline for those who need it.
Professor Jeremy Lim, director of global health at the Saw Swee Hock School of Public Health at the National University of Singapore, says denying workers their freedom has few public health benefits at the moment.
"I would say that the Covid-19 concerns are massively overblown.
"They are vaccinated, they are familiar with safe distancing, they wear masks. So what more can we do?
"Speaking as a public health professional, we have to recognise there are limits. Right now is the time to focus on these workers' mental health because they are really, really struggling at the moment."
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I don't know if this is cheating but can I throw the ask you sent me back at you?? What are your top 5 ships of all times? It was a good question and now I'm curious 😅
omg yes gladly!!
5. freezerburn
i'm not really into rwby anymore because the show took a turn i simply do not like, but i will always, always, always care for my girls. they bring me so much comfort because they were there for each other at a time they both needed it so so much, and one of the things that annoy me the most about rwby is how yang is always supporting everyone, always handling everything alone, always holding everyone together even at the cost of her mental health, but with weiss she just...didn't have to anymore. that scene in volume 5 where yang is hurting and lonely and feels like things will never get better and weiss comes to find her and actually talk to her, and for once yang gets to express that pain she's feeling and it's just....they bring out the best in each other and it makes me lose my mind, i love my lesbians so much you have no idea
4. leonetta
and i think this is a surprise to no one but i am SO in love with them, leonetta are one of these ships i'll always go back to, it's been years since i started shipping them and my love keeps growing and growing and growing because they're just....so good. at this point i honestly don't even care about their bad moments or all the times i get annoyed with them while watching because they can be so dumb, because the comfort they bring me is just unmatched. they're one of my first ships, like first actual ships, and nowadays i don't care about my ships being canon or not (and thank god because somehow i NEVER fall for the canon pairings), but i'm so glad i won with leonetta back then because the love i have for them is very special and being able to see one of my biggest ships being canonically in love is pretty nice actually
3. rinharu
not obvious on this blog i agree but i am, in fact, very into anime and free! was something i was SO into when i was younger. rinharu left such a long lasting impression on me that even now, when the last time i rewatched the anime was years ago, i can say with almost no doubt that i never felt as strongly as i did watching their scenes. i don't even know how to describe this feeling, but their connection is so damn strong it's just...seeing how their relationship evolved, and seeing all their friends around them knowing how unique their bond is, the respect they have for each other, the pure love it's just breathtaking i think. i love every single one of their scenes but that scene in australia when "there was only one bed" and they're lying in the dark talking about their feelings for each other always fills me with an emotion i can't even describe. i think that, more than i do with any other pairing in this top, what drives me to them so much is that i feel like i'm watching love, the concept of love, in its purest essence. no matter if it's romantic or platonic (even tho, let's be real here, nothing about them is platonic) it's just....such a caring and loving relationship, i adore them. also rivals to lovers is MY shit
2. bokuroo
sports anime again, this time rivals to lovers AND best friends to lovers at the same time? sign me up right now. bokuroo is actually a much more recent pairing than every other one in this top (i did watch haikyuu when it was airing, but back then i didn't think much about ships), so i feel like they might reflect my current taste in ships a tiny bit more than these other pairings (except freezerburn who kind of falls into recent ships too). this might not be obvious because on this blog i mostly talk about leonetta, and i love everything about them don't get me wrong, but generally speaking i absolutely despise the concept of soulmates. it seems weird to say but i like romantic relationships that are....normal, and somehow it's what punches me in the gut every time with bokuroo. because to them love is natural, to them love is the norm. they love and they love and they love, and they were best friends telling the other how much they loved them, and they were rivals telling everyone how much they respected the other, and ultimately when they become lovers nothing changes, because love is such an integral part of their relationship from the begining that there is no reason to change that. when i think about bokuroo i don't think about lovers, i think about best friends who happen to be in love, i think about idiots who laugh together until they can't breathe but still kiss afterwards like it's the most normal thing in the world, because it is, because loving the world is part of who they are, and they chose to love this world together, and they chose to love each other. they make me feel...so many things honestly
1. zutara
and now this is it, my oldest ship, my very first love, THE ship that shaped my taste about everything else, and the only ship i'll forever be salty wasn't canon (even tho my opinion changed a bit on that, but i at least wish they'd have ended up single because they deserve so much better than what the writers gave them). i talked about best friends to lovers with bokuroo, but zutara hits the enemies to friends to best friends to lovers case and it makes my heart beat really fast. zuko and katara are both huge comfort characters to me, and some of my favorite characters of all times, and it's just unbelievable how GOOD they are to each other. zutara have so much in common, and the parallels the show made for them (either intentionally or not) are just too much not to see it. i know i said that bokuroo might represent my current taste better than everyone else here, but now that i'm writing about them it's just...false, because zuko and katara have exactly the same essence that makes me lose my mind. because there's this girl, who everyone has always expected to be something, she had to be mature, she had to be a mentor and a teacher, she had to be a mother to her own brother, she had to be this perfect version of herself all the time. and then there's this boy who comes into her life, and for the first time in forever someone looks at her and doesn't see a perfect girl, he sees katara, a girl his age who's hurting, he sees her anger and he sees all these ugly feelings she's been holding inside for years, and he says "i still love you" and it's just so beautiful to me. zuko is the only character in this show who actually, like genuinely listens to katara, and katara is the only one zuko is comfortable enough to confide in knowing she will never belittle his feelings. they see the other for who they are, not who they want them to be. they see each other, and somehow, that makes all the difference. they are everything to me
i could write essays about them all (and i already have), but i think i'll stop myself before i start crying out of love. it was so hard to rank them honestly and i've changed the order so many times while answering, but thank you SO MUCH for this ask, i had so much fun answering!! <33
#note that it's hilarious that i said 'idc about my ships being canon' when freezerburn and zutara not being canon haunts me every night#but these two are very special for that
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What day is it... hmmm... let me check my calendar.... Yep! Just like I thought, it's mare makes me scream at my laptop day! :D I felt several things, mostly pain, and now I must discuss how I feel about these things! And how is that you ask? Well, lucky for you I'll answer this with my usual LEQ lengthed response! I'll start with the Jack and Tubbbi scene! I thought this was great, because not only did it explain why Jack was into nfts, but it also gave some great insight to his character. As a person, I previously thought of cs!Jack as basic-run-of-the-mill dude bro with an average moral compass. But after reading this chapter, I actually sympathized with him and wanted to give the poor dude a hug! You are very good at making your characters sympathetic and I can't wait to see what else you do with non-main characters later on! Though, during this section I was also very much in pain simply due to the fact that- TUBBO YOU DONT NEED TO BE THE GROUP THERAPIST YOU ARE NOT ESPONISBLE FOR YOUR FRIENDS CONFLICTS- Dude, maybe, just maybe, it isn't healthy to only focus on others issues and tension whilst blatantly ignoring your own!! Why does he do this, AHABIBSSNKJANKnKJNSINA (I know why he does, he's literally said his reasoning in past chapters) But DUDE, I can't get over just how little Tubbo values himself as an individual, its so consistent and his insistence on being "useful" to others is done so well here! Anyway, this section was nice, but as a cs!Tubbo enjoyer it slightly enraged me /POS.
Now it's time to talk about the ever loveable clingyduo, though they should probably change their duo name to Denial duo because... good lord. You mentioned that you wrote Tommy specifically his expression of his more negative emotions as sporadic, and feel you did a great job here! The tension builds so quickly because of the ways Tommy responds to trauma or to protect himself, and then in turn ends so quickly because Tubbo cares more about defusing the situation and preventing conflict. This really made the scene feel more stressful, plus shows the use of Tubbo's argument/conversation "survival methods" even if this was with Tommy. Of course, Tommy was completely valid in the way he responded to Jack and Tubbo, but the way Tubbo almost immediately gives in after they start arguing shows to me anyway that Tubbo felt unsafe in that situation and has so little he truly wants to share. The conversation just ends with so much that he leaves unsaid because Tubbo cares about a lot of people, Jack included, and even if he doesn't want to admit it or argue against Tommy here, the ashes are still hot even though the fire was put out and Tubbo just ignores the fact that he disagrees. The way you write clingyduo is so interesting to me because despite knowing each other so well, the little details on what Tubbo refuses to say leaves me begging for more and screaming in my bedroom. In other words, this section was also nice but as a cs!Tubbo enjoyer, it slightly enraged me /POS (x2). Next on my (gay) agenda is talking about the main man himself, Tubbo! I have several things to say about him, one of the more important things being, BSFBENDWKNDLKQKDBKNDWAKNDJKX- Because MY GUY, FOR THE LOVE OF BOTH YOUR AND MY MENTAL HEALTH YOU NEED A THERAPIST! Where do I begin with him? How about the whole few paragraphs of Tubbo not understanding why Ranboo stayed by him after his confession because loving him is a burden and he doesn't deserve it?!?!?! Every Tubbo pov chapter is something I've coined as "Heartbreaking Via Intense Anger" because his sections always make me want to punch him, pay for his therapy appointments, and scream at the same time. And they're always so many different layers to this in Tubbo's chapters! He continued the denial of his adoption which only further expresses the idea that he doesn't think he deserves a family, which is then made worse by the fact that he thinks his alcoholism makes him undeserving of any support. That's just wonderful! Then all the suicidal ideation in this chapter that came in the form of him thinking he shouldn't have even been born in order for the world to better, which totally didn't make me scream into my hands whilst reading this! And of course, how could I forget to mention the whole "Tubbo shouldn't still be grieving..." excerpt, because that had me seething. At Tubbo's core, he hates himself over things he can't control, that are normal, or for simply not being perfect. The level of consistency you use in writing Tubbo's character is just amazing because I can link almost every decision or thought Tubbo's had to one of his forms of self-hatred. And although the writing was once again very nice, as a cs!Tubbo enjoyer it enraged me /POS (x3)
And now for the homophobic agenda, or should I say this chapter's beeduo? All jokes of course, but making me have to read all of this...? Hmmmmm.... Seriously though, at the start of this chapter Tubbbo was continuously the trend of unknowingly queer platonically pinning over Ranboo, and I was thrilled! That is until you decided to make their sections...mean. All the text conversations felt really sad, you nailed the accuracy of dead conversations and I could also clearly see both Ranboo's nervousness and Tubbo's disappointment through the messages. And increasing my turmoil tenfold, you decided to write that scene at the bakery near the end which was- so good, but at the expense of my happiness. As soon as I realized Ranboo wasn't going to be there, I verbally went, "Oh, no..." and sighed into my desk. The fact that Ranboo is so obviously hiding so much about himself and what he's doing from Tubbo makes this so much worse, especially since he just shared so much about himself. And even though the reader knows that this is all most definitely because of Dream, Tubbo.. doesn't. He thinks it likely could be Dream, but since this happened after he told Ranboo everything- he thinks it's because of him. More excellent characterization in regards to Tubbo being "logical" but him feeling rejected coming first, it just goes to show that he isn't the robot he thinks he is and thinks he should be in these moments. And then having the opportunity later to see Ranboo but simply not taking it, and Ranboo not texting back in the end? UAUDNIUSNILANILSNK- I LOVE DRAMATIC IRONY!!! It was all so heartbreaking and well written, but once again as both a cs!Tubbo enjoyer and a cs!Ranboo enjoyer it enraged me to great levels /POOOOSSS (x4)
You get better and better with your characterization, imagery, and dialogue, with every new chapter and I'm already so excited for the next one and to see where all this wonderfully built tension goes! You say that you are excited when you see my name in your ask box, but the same goes for me too! Every time I see your name in my notifs I get so happy :] Thank you for the wonderful new chapter, have a wonderful day or night, and as a bonus enjoy this little cs!Ranboo doodle I made <333
galaxy LEQs are my favorite LEQs bless <333
im happy i can make cs!jack sympathetic; what i wanted to do with his character up until this chapter is very much paint him to be the way you described thinking of him initially, this sort of shallow person that has questionable interests and is kind of easy to poke fun at bc he's always in on the joke. i wanted this chapter to be jarring because this is also the first time that cs!tubbo is really seeing a lot of these issues in cs!jack, and there's another few scenes i have thats going to ease this so that this jump doesnt feel so jarring and explain stuff. but im really happy ppl like cs!jack he means a lot 2 me :D
tubbo and ranboo both share this issue in the fic of being mediators or trying to problem solve, but i think what ranboo does is a lot more of creating problems that arent there and putting responsibility on himself to solve them (at least ive tried to push in that direction albeit i think i could have set that characteristic up better). meanwhile tubbo seizes existent opportunities and thinks that he has to be the ultimate comforter otherwise he doesnt have worth. <//3
i absolutely LOVE how you analyzed the clingyduo scene bc that's exactly what i was hoping to show! it's complicated bc tubbo isnt much of an arguer, it's a quality he notes in himself later with wilbur, he knows when to back off. the problem is he backs off too soon and is scared to press some things, and that creates friction with tommy who is inherently a very good person but needs to have some pushback in what he does bc he honestly isn't very used to having it in a healthy way from someone who cares about him. so it gets messy and i think u put it in a very good way yourself :]
hearing that ANYTHING i write is consistent is a massive fucking compliment bc i always struggle with that so genuinely tysm<33 yeah tubbo has a LOT of self hatred in him and its just. the hard thing about being surrounded with people going through shit is through no fault of anybodys its kind of hard to piece together how people feel about you and how genuine they are. its not ranboo's fault that he's distanced so far from tubbo due to his own bullshit, not inherently, but it sends tubbo a really weird message about what their interactions have meant. and etc. its just difficult for tubbo who has always been convinced that hes doomed, getting cues from the world that he somehow isnt and yet he still feels abandoned.
see my least favorite scenes of cough syrup to write is honestly a lot of ranboo's arc right now so it makes it feel worth it that people appreciate the effect it has on the story overall :') the two of them slowly distancing is important to me especially looking at their characters, tubbo is someone hwo has been able to hold onto friends for a while yet never let them wholly in, but ranboo ... hasnt had that kind of consistency. so it makes sense that w the way their lives are there is a lot of turbulence there, frustration from tubbo who is used to hearing other peoples shit and not taling about his own getting all that subverted, and stress from ranboo to navigate something hes literally never had before. like hes had niki and techno but those relationships are fundamentally different to how he is with tubbo and that scares him
that art is SO SO SO CUTE i love it so much ,, obv its what ur comfortable w but u honestly do such nice doodles that if u ever wanted to like make an isolated tumblr post w them i think ppl would love it- id boost the hell otu of it but obv whatever u are comfy with. i LOVE how u draw cs!ranboo so much tho omg
thank u for ur support and kind words <33
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okay while we're on the subject of eating healthy and exercising, I want to vent/talk about weight loss. This is gonna be a rly controversial, very personal and extremely long post but I do want to make a point. I'm not going to discuss every fucking nuance of haes or my EDs. But for clarity, know that my eds are complicated and were mostly osfeds - minor anorexia osfed in high school and bed osfed when I was 18-19. after i realised how fat i was the minor anorexia came back and over the pandemic it became full scale anorexia nervosa.
I'm 5'3. The healthy weight range I should be in is in the high 40s-low 50s. I went up to TWICE that by the time I was just nineteen years old. It wasn't fun being fat. I consumed as much fat acceptance, fat activism content as I could, I pretended I was confident and happy even when I was fat. But I wasn't. Because people don't just get obese accidentally. A little overweight, yes. But obese? No. You get obese from depression, from giving up. You don't want to move so you don't. You're sad all the time, and the body positivity circles say eat comfort food, whatever and as much as it makes you feel better!! Do you know what that is? That's encouragement of BED. Do not say that. Because I did that. I ate sugar and junk food, I was still depressed.
I was reading these posts that were claiming fat people shouldn't be weighed at the doctor, that your weight shouldn't count, that BMI is incorrect and doesn't matter, etc etc. There were posts saying that they got "perfect bloodwork" (what even is that? I knew that was wrong, I've had chronic iron deficiency for a decade!) even though they were fat, so they had to be healthy, right? I got shown pictures of obese ballerinas and obese weightlifters blah blah blah. And I grew and grew, and I got to almost 85kg on the fast track to 100kg before reality smacked me in the face and I realised I was shortening my lifespan by decades.
Here's what it was like being obese!
- joint pain, constantly
- could barely walk anywhere without feeling out of breath
- couldn't find any fashionable, good quality clothes (plus size stores either carry unfashionable clothing, or fashionable but cheap quality clothing. I don't like to waste money on cheap clothes)
- more acne than I'd had in years
- oily skin
- more difficulty feeling "full"
- JOINT FUCKING PAIN
- rashes from skin rubbing against skin!
- even larger chest, making me MORE dysphoric
- back pain!!
- snoring - this is not just embarrassing. This is potentially deadly.
- DYSPHORIA
- KNEES. JOINT PAIN.
- DYSPHORIA
this was just things I felt physically, noticeably! The things that my fat was doing on the inside was even worse. Fat isn't just this layer of packing peanuts that appears on top of you. It coats your organs. It gets everywhere. It makes your entire body run worse.
Fat also makes it much more likely for you to not just GET cancer, but it it also makes it harder to FIGHT cancer. Being obese makes almost every single goddamn sickness on the planet worse because when you have THAT MUCH fat tissue the hormones and shit it secretes fucks EVERYTHING up.
Yes there are obese bodybuilders. Yes there are obese ballerinas. Let's talk about those two.
There are plenty of drs and dieticians who have pointed out the obvious - if an obese person was really, actually eating healthily and exercising every day, they would not stay obese forever. Its not magic, it's thermodynamics. CICO done right works for everyone. If you are eating healthy, appropriate portions for weight loss at your TDEE and exercising it would literally be IMPOSSIBLE for you not to lose weight!! Even more the heavier you are because when you exercise you carry around a lot more weight.
Obese weightlifters are still obese. They are not proof you can be obese and healthy. They are still going to die younger if they do not lose weight.
Let's talk about fat ballerinas. The only ones I've seen are trainee ballerinas, not professional ones. And their performance looks impressive at first, until you look closer. You notice their balance is never quite perfect, their control can be amazing and the best ever but they'll still be off. Why? Because fat moves around with your movement, and it displaces your balance and your line of movement. It's simply not possible to do something like ballet dancing as a fat person without risking major injury as well. En pointe is already stupid dangerous for the skinniest ballerina. Going en pointe at anything above 60kg is going to get progressively suckier the heavier you go. And god help your ankles because falling down will always end in a major injury.
I'm so fucking done with "fat acceptance". I'm tired of "body positivity" being a movement about obese middle-upper class white women and not about scars and disabilities etc like it was focused on in the start. I have no problems with Health at Every Size - every person should feel happy to workout, to eat healthy. I have no problem raising issue with people bullying others for their weight as well. That's wrong. But pretending that it's Healthy at Every Size is a fucking lie, and it's one that could've sentenced me to an early death. Healthy at Every Size said I was condemned to joint pain and oily skin and depression and exhaustion for the rest of my life based on cherrypicked sentences from studies that didn't agree with them. That "95% of diets fail" sentence in particular drives me up the wall. You don't need a diet to lose weight, you need healthy CICO, you need to eat below your TDEE, you need to eat healthy, and you need to exercise. All you have to do at first is go on a 10-20 minute walk, whatever pace you like, a few times a week.
You can BE fit, you CAN lose weight! You are not sentenced to having joint pain and an increased risk for cancer and a less effective COVID vaccine for life. You can change your body in incredibly ways. You have no idea what you are capable of.
There's this myth that weight loss takes keto and shakes and diet pills and crash diets etc. It doesn't. All it is is making sure you eat less than your TDEE, eating HEALTHY calories, and getting your heartrate up by exercising at least 175 minutes a week.
The human body is not meant to be obese. There's no such thing as a set point weight. There's CICO, there's nutrition, there's making sure your muscles dont atrophy. Weight loss and fitness isn't some magic thing that youre just born able to do. I was lazy throughout my entire teens. I thought fitness was something the popular girls did. It's not. It's for everyone. and everyone, especially in places with an obesity epidemic such as the US, UK, and Australia, should make use of it. It's a good thing. Walking is one of the best things you can do for your body, and it's incredibly rewarding in every way. Eating healthy and not eating until you feel like you're going to burst is rewarding in every way. And it's not like you can't ever have junk food again, you just have to limit it to a treat, a once or twice per week thing. And honestly, it makes it much more enjoyable that way.
Now I want to talk a little about my anorexia. My weight loss journey came to anorexia. This is because it was an eating disorder I'd had for a long time. I did not see a trainer or dietician, and I consciously decided to push myself too far. I consciously decide to eat less and exercise more when I am starving. This is not something that just happens because someone is eating at 1200cals. It happens because you have an eating disorder which you are born with. Saying people who eat 1200cals of healthy food a day and exercise right are "anorexic" is so fucking insulting to everyone involved. It's ableist and ignorant. 1200cals is also a pretty generous amount for anorexic ppl to eat. That's close to a binge in ED standards, so that should give you a reference for how offbase saying 1200cals is "anorexic" is.
My anorexia is healthy habits pushed into eating disorder territory. I eat healthy, yes, but I don't eat enough. I exercise, yes, but I often push myself too far when I'm already lacking energy. The advice I give people for health is correct, and I'm never going to go around saying "eat less than 1200cals" as weightloss advice. Eat less, sure, but there's a limit. Calorie counting is a good thing to do, tracking your macros and nutrients is good. But I do it too much.
I know what's healthy, a lot of ppl with restrictive and purgative EDs do. People with EDs can give some awesome health advice, we just can't follow it because we have a mental disorder. Believe it or not people with EDs discussing their EDs are not "pro-ana", pointing out that anorexia and people with anorexia are real and not some boogeyman you use to justify not losing weight and eating healthy is not pro-ana. Anorexia existing is not pro-ana and anorexics being anorexic has nothing to do with fatphobia.
this post is a rambling mess but i rly had to get some stuff clear on how I feel abt this stuff because it's getting concerning how much unhealthy shit, and then straight up ableist shit, that the fat acceptance crowd spews out.
A little exercise won't kill you, eating healthy won't kill you. You are not sentenced to ugly plus size fashion and joint pain and being out of breath for the rest of your life. Leave the Healthy at Every Size death cult and join the Health at Every Size movement. Let the doctor take your weight (it IS medically necessary). acknowledge that you are obese and it is affecting your health. It's scary but it can be the start of a new, healthy beginning. It was for me.
Losing 15kg has been the best thing in my life. Sure, the anorexia is there enjoying it for one reason. But the reason I truly enjoy it is because I've discovered what a healthier body feels like. I've discovered the joys of exercise, I've discovered the joys of eating healthy. I can fit nice clothes now. And I'm still overweight! I'm 66kg, that's 4kg away from the barest minimum acceptable healthy bmi. But I feel so so much better. I look better. I have a jawline! Good skin! Energy! It didn't fix me but it sure made me a hell of a lot better.
Please please try and eat healthy, eat an appropriate amount, go for walks. It's so so good, and if you do it right you WILL lose weight. You'll live past 50. You'll get to explore the world in a way you couldn't when going up stairs had you out of breath. You'll fit into that nice skirt you've been looking at. Your skin will clear up. You'll have energy and your mental health will improve.
It's so so fucking worth it to put effort into your health, like I cannot emphasise this enough. Please do it, I wish I could tell myself this when I was binging on junk because the FA crowd told me it was valid to comfort eat until I hurt.
#long post#this is mostly a vent but yeah#basically my decision is that im not touching any fat activism fatphobia etc with a ten foot pole#esp on this blog except to discuss my personal experience with it ie this post#personal#ok to rb#sorry for not putting it under a readmore im on mobile
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in9 moments that haunt you? 👀
Thank you @lapis-lazuliie for the suggestion!
THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS!!
Series 1:
The Understudy - The scene at the end when Kirstie admits to all the stuff she's done. I'm not sure why, but its SO unsettling. Especially even she says "I'm always watching" ✋🏻😨
The Harrowing - The end scene honestly scares me so much. When she's screaming and mostly naked, it's just so disturbing to me. The fact that she's playing a teenager and she's in that plight just makes my stomach turn. I know the actor probably isn't a teen but uGHHH its gross 😂
Series 2:
Cold Comfort - This whole episode made me feel super uneasy and uncomfortable. I think it's super unsettling to see George actually SPEAKING as Chloe. Like that is disturbing, especially because we know how much it's affecting Andy's mental health. Also the darkened office scenes, I was fREAKED out. I thought something was gonna jump out. The whole CCTV camera thing was eerie, honestly
Series 3:
The Devil of Christmas - Do I even need to expand on this one? That end scene is one that will forever terrify me. Because as the director says, you can really see the genuine fear on her face as she realises it's real. (Obviously it's still acting, but it's a whole other thing to act badly on purpose and then make it seem so genuine). And just... the disturbing concept that she's surrounded by all these sick and twisted people as she's being killed. Freaking horrifying.
The Riddle of The Sphinx - Honestly, I was already uncomfortable when Squires starts... touching her while she's vulnerable but that wasn't even the worst part! When Tyler cuts that cHUNK out of her, and knowing she can still feel pain but can't even react is just the most awful thing ever. And then watching Squires eat it 🤢🤢. THEN HE FINDS OUT ITS HIS DAUGHTER OMFG- IT'S A SHIT SHOW!!
Diddle Diddle Dumpling - I really don't talk about this episode often, but the ending really made me think. When we find out that he did all this because of his lost child, I was like bRO- but then finding out he mURDERED that guy. I was like 😱
Series 4:
To Have and To Hold - I'm not sure why but there's something so unsettling about Adrian feeding that woman a Pot Noodle and then unzipping his trousers. Honestly glad he fell down those stairs, ngl
Tempting Fate - AHHH when Maz gets that sPIKE in her head omfg I almost vomited. But when Nick wished for Charlie's recovery, I was like oh GOD NO-
Deadline - This whole episode scared the shit out of me. The way they broke the fourth wall with it. I was watching it on iPlayer and it still tricked me, I'm not even kidding. And when they went back to the A Quiet Night In, and the strange ENTITY- I shat myself.
Series 5:
Death Be Not Proud - I know this was a tribute to Psychoville and it wasn't really that scary but like... when he's about to plop that baby into the boiling water, I was like MATERNAL MODE: ACTIVATED! The way I cRINGED as it got closer to the boiling pot, my face looked like I'd sucked a lemon.
Thinking Out Loud - Most of this episode was unsettling to me. It's one of my favourite episodes, but one of the most terrifying. Galen is a SCARY character and the way he looks at the screen, completely lifeless and interacts with us. The fucking jumpscare too, I was like 'rEALLY?!'. But it was unsettling also when the music builds up as Nadia starts to understand that none of these people exist, and she's just one person. AND again, the ending was just jarring. The way Galen appears and murders Bill, but then Nadia steps back covered in blood. Gosh, actual chills!
The Stakeout - AHHH this one, cHRIST! That dagger going ALL the way into his neck, nO- sorry, I cannot handle gore and my toes curled. And the way the feeding scene seemed to go on for so long, it was sooo haunting!
Series 6:
Wuthering Heist - My jaw dropped when Pantalone sliced Collie's throat, and just the way she fell to the ground and reached out for help. How the others just stared at her as she died, it was quite disturbing. (Also what Scaramouche was going to that gun, but we'll skip past that)
Simon Says - Do I really need to elaborate? "We don't want him looking at us, do we?" YEESH-
How Do You Plead? - I know this episode was all Dr. Faustus-y with Lucifer and like... evil things but that kid choking up that orange? Gross and horrifying.
Last Night of The Proms - Three words: The Sailor's Hornpipe. Yeah... because this was the episode I chose to watch with my dad. The murder didn't bother me, and neither did Brian's groping but when Penny starting throwing it back... nah-
I hope that answered your question!
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My Script
So I’m posting up my script here if anyone's interested. This is for my main DR in the D:BH Universe.
It’s kinda long.
*WARNING: very self indulgent.*
Intro
My DR is set in the D:BH universe. In Detroit, 2039. I am a young Detective at the DPD.
All events that happened in my play trough of DBH happen in this reality. EG. Markus = Peaceful Revolution. Kara= Her, Alice and Luther all escape to Canada together. Connor = Becomes Deviant.
Hank and Connor become like father and son. Connor moved in with Hank after the events of DBH.
I have been working at the DPD as a detective for about a year now, I was very excited to be working alongside my dear friend Trey Greene (OC), who actually ended up being my partner. We do almost every investigation together.
During my time at the DPD I have become fast friends with Hank and Chris. Gavin is okay, we joke and banter but I wouldn’t say we are buds. I disliked his attitude towards Hank and his dislike of androids. But if he changes, who knows, maybe we can be friends. Idk.
I always supported android rights, even before there where deviants. I always treated androids with kindness and compassion.
I first met Connor on the 6th of November 2038, back before he was deviant. I was always kind to him and had a fondness for him. When Connor first saw me he stopped for a minute in a miniature awe, the stereotypical love at first sight motif. Although he did not know it at the time - him not being deviant yet. A software instability entered his program upon seeing me. In fact, anytime we made eye contact or talked he got a software instability. It baffled him.
The first time he saw me after deviating he was hit with butterflies, it didn’t take too long to realize what it was, he had a huge crush on me. He kept it to himself but Hank knew immediately.
It is now January the 8th 2039, Connor and I have become quite good friends but his feelings for me only continue to grow. We've only known each other for 2- 3 months but Connor is falling in love fast and now he's decided to finally pluck up the courage and admit his feelings to me and ask me out. How will he do this? I don’t know yet.
______
World
After the events of DBH, Androids start getting rights, relatively quickly.
Laws are implemented to protect androids. Androids are free. They can own property, get paid for working and all of the things Markus was advocating for.
As time goes on Androids fully integrate into our society and we mostly live in peace. Hate crime of any kind is rare.
Android politicians start to pop up. Android Pride day exists. Androids can marry each other and humans. Android/Human relationships are normalised. Androids can adopt. Etc.
_______
Shifting
1 hour - 1 day
. While I am in my DR my clone is sleeping in my CR.
. I have a Healthy attachment to my DR and I recognise the importance of my CR.
. I remember everything from both realities vividly while I'm in the other unless I script otherwise.
· I can fully trust my clone. My clone acts identical to me.
· When I shift back to my current reality time stops in my DR. The next time I go to my DR everything continues where I left off.
· I can use the LIFA app in my DR to see what my clone is doing in CR.
· I only shift back to my CR when I want to, I can’t go back on accident.
· My safe phrase for coming back to my CR is “I want to go back to my Current Reality.” or even as simply as I make it my intention, then I can go back.
· Nothing traumatic happens to me in my DR.
· When I come back to my CR, I will remember everything that happened in my DR.
· When I shift, I wake up in my DR bedroom.
· When I am shifted I smell cinnamon and my eyes automatically open.
· I cannot die or get very hurt in my DR.
. I am able to fully Integrate Into my DR self’s life. e.g. Rembering my DR self’s past, feeling comfortable and normal talking to and interacting with people in my DR selfs life. Having all the skills and knowledge my DR self has.
. No one from my CR or other realities can enter my DR without my permission.
.My guardian Angel or one of my angels or guides from my DR has decided to help me shift. Whenever I try to shift in this reality the Angel assits me and pulls my CR self into My DR.
_______
About Me
I have the same name, b-day etc but I am 25 Years old.
Childhood and teen years, pretty similar to CR.
Everything is pretty much the same except added skills talents or whatever else I script.
Physical
· I Look like myself but 10x prettier.
· I have my dream body, which always stays perfect and in shape. Similar to my body type only toned and fitter.
· I have perfect, white straight teeth.
. I always have good breath.
· I always smell great - My sweat doesn’t smell.
· Low, silent gas that doesn’t smell.
· I usually smell like ‘Soap and Glory’ products.
· I have Beautiful hair that is easily maintained. My hair is also a slightly lighter blonde.
· I have my Ideal, natural eyebrows.
· I have soft, clear skin and I am slightly tanner than in my CR.
· I am beautiful from all angles.
· I have long eyelashes.
· I have a straight, cute nose.
· I always have good hygiene.
· I never gain weight when I don’t want to, my body is always slim and never bloated.
· If I ever get pregnant, after having my baby, my body goes quickly back to the way it looked before.
· I don’t have to shave too often.
· If I ever decide have a baby, my pregnancy will be safe and my child will be safe. It will be born happy and healthy.
· I have perfect senses.
· I can be fully functional with little sleep.
· I have good stamina and am physically fit.
· I still have my accent.
· I have a naturally beautiful face with and without make up.
· My make-up sits perfectly on my face and stays all day until I take it off.
· My make-up never runs.
· I always have nicely manicured nails.
· I always look well groomed.
Health
· I have high pain tolerance.
· My period only lasts two days and doesn’t hurt too bad.
· I can only get pregnant if actually wanting too.
· I am always safe.
· I am divinely protected at all times.
· I am well rested and perfectly healthy.
· I can think clearly.
· I have good mental health - maybe went through similar mental health issues when I was younger but now am perfectly healthy and able to cope.
· I do not scar.
· I heal fast.
· 𝖨 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾 too overly 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 to my DR and I will not get any trauma.
· I eat healthy, and enjoy healthy foods.
· I drink plenty of water
· I have balanced chakras, Good intuition and I radiate love and light.
· I can easily communicate with angels.
Skills
· I am a skilled detective. I know exactly what to do and I have all required skills.
· I am an excellent shot.
· I have excellent fighting and self-defence skills.
· I have high intelligence.
· I'm never badly hurt in the line of duty. Extremely lucky (like domino in dp2.) If I ever get hurt in DR its only minor. No one is suspicious about it.
· I'm a good writer.
· My art skills are always better in my DR than in CR.
· I have a good memory and deduction skills. Good reasoning skills.
· I am socially confident and charismatic.
· I am an excellent speaker.
· I am good at reading people.
· I give good advice.
· I am a good friend.
· I am a great kisser and fantastic in bed.
· I am hard working and have lots of patience.
· I'm a great singer and can play piano, guitar.
· I know French and Irish.
· I know how to drive.
· I'm really good at make-up.
· I'm really funny.
· People easily trust me.
Life
· I have all knowledge my CR self has.
· I had a relatively easy life.
· I come from a wealthy family.
· I am always full of motivation and energy.
· I have an amazing closet full of clothes, including both new clothes and my CR self's clothes.
· I have all of my current realities belongings. (Well, the stuff that I want with me.)
· I have a ton of art supplies.
· I live in my own house which I can afford with ease.
· I have a cute golden retriever called Bailey who is okay alone in the house while I'm at work.
· Bailey is a year old and is fully trained.
· I have a nice car that is self-driving.
· I have a good phone with the LIFA app
· I get to travel to cool places on holidays/vacation.
· While I'm in my DR I don’t confuse my CR's past with my DR's.
· All my fave shows, music, movies are also in my DR.
· I have lots of friends and make friends easily.
· I remember my past in the DR and can reference it with ease.
· I never have to kill as a detective, I can always disarm or find another solution.
· I won't get fired from my job.
· I'm good at my job and I know how to do my job well.
· Trey is my partner and our desks are beside each other.
· I'm also friends with Chris and Hank.
· My friends are always there for me. My friends care about me.
· Money comes to me easily and effortlessly.
· I am a really great at manifesting what I want in my DR.
· People I don’t want to, won’t die or get very hurt.
· People from my DR never notice if I'm not there because when I’m not there, my clone takes my place. (Although I probably won't use my clone too often because I plan to pick up where I left off most of the time.)
· I know all passcodes and important numbers of my DR self's life. E.g. Passwords, phone numbers, etc.
·I have a Spotify/ (or whatever the equivalent to it is in this reality) filled with music that I like. Maybe some of the playlists that I have in CR.
· I'm quick at picking up skills.
· If I ever decide to change career in my DR, I can do so with ease and get whatever job I want.
· I have nice, tidy handwriting.
Family
I come from a wealthy family. We moved from N.I. to America - Detroit in 2025. (Moved Because dad was offered a great job.) *family all have our green cards.*
Family is friends with Carl Manfred.
A very loving, healthy and supportive family.
* In my actual script I go into more detail about my family. but i’ll give you a brief rundown. I chose to shift to a reality with a different family from my CR family because I thought if I had a different family and friends it will give me more of a reason to come back to my CR. So I can have balance? idk...*
My DR dads name is Patrick, DR mums name is Mary and my DR brothers name is Lucas.
Family support and are okay with my relationship with Connor because they recognise androids as living beings.
Last but Not least! Bailey!
Bailey is my one year old Golden retriever. She is very well trained and is an absolute angel. She also really loves Connor.
House
I live in a 1 bedroom, 1 bath house with Bailey. *In my actual script I stuck in a bunch of pictures of a house I built in the sims 4.*
Friends
So, I'm not going to go through all the friends I scripted on here but I’ll tell you about my best friend from my DR. My partner from work, Trey Greene. He’s 27, a leo (like me) and gay. (I honestly made my entire friend group LGBTQ+ LOL)
I may have also scripted that jenna marbles is there and shes my friend lol.
Connor
*Okay now to the real reason I'm shifting, the love of my life.*
Connor falls in love with me the moment he sees me. Although he may not understand what it is at first because he hasn’t deviated yet. When he fully deviates he realises his feelings. He's a little shy about it at first but eventually asks me out. We date and fall in love and end up in a loving healthy relationship. We respect each other's boundaries and are completely in love. Like stereotypical soulmates.
Connor is very romantic and affectionate. Literally like a prince charming.
When we get together we are in a healthy relationship and both of us are completely faithful. I can trust Connor fully because I know he is trust worthy and always has my best intentions at heart.
. We have similar love languages.
. Connor is super-duper romantic and calls me sweet names like "My love."
. Much Like me in this DR, Connor is completely protected and safe with extremely good luck.
After the events of DBH and Connor is deviant. Amanda and cyberlife no longer have any control over him.
NSFW warning - Skip to Lifa if your not comfy.
Connor's model was created fully equipped with regular male genitalia (which is about 7 inches.)
He is very vocal in bed and is great at dirty talk. He can do loving romantic sex and also kinky rough sex too.
Lifa
Lifa is an app on my smart phone that only I have access to. Others don’t notice it. (like hidden in plain sight.)
It can only be noticed by others if I decide I want to show it to someone.
Lifa allows me to script while in my WR. It also allows me to see myself in CR.
Lifa updates me when its nearly time for me to wake up or reminds me when. As if it's like a timer.
Lifa doesn’t require internet. It has maps on it. I can look at my money and add to my money if I so wish. (if I add money it doesn’t ruin the economy.) idk magic lol
I can also access in online on a computer or tablet or any device that carries the internet.
No one else can use it unless I specifically allow it.
I will be alerted by this app if my clone wakes up.
I always have my phone near me. I can never lose it. Its also always fully charged.
If I get a new phone. Lifa automatically downloads on it and deletes off the old phone.
MISC.
· When androids deviate they are able to feel pleasure, touch, etc.
· Androids actually do have souls and are actually a new life form.
· After revolution CyberLife starts to create things for androids like upgrades. E.G. Taste, ability to do almost everything humans can.
· Most people are environmentally conscious.
· The earth is healing and people are taking better care of the planet. A lot more environmentally conscious options.
· The ocean, air, atmosphere and earth are all 70% cleaner than in CR.
· Racism, homophobia, sexism are quite rare. Ultimately society frowns upon such things.
· Humans and Androids live in peace
· Shortly after the revolution, Kamski got repointed as CEO of Cyberlife. Cyberlife now focusing on the needs of Androids and helping them adjust into the world.
· Youtube still exists and is relevant.
· Bagel Bean and Boojum exist in Detroit and aren't too far from my home. (These are food places back at where I'm from that are bomb.)
· No crisis with bees.
. The Police and justice system are reformed.
· No threats of ww3.
· I don’t live too far from work.
· All the videogames I like still exist, (except for dbh obvs.)
· We can buy Cadburys and Pujana tea in America. (Things I like in the UK.)
• Food in US is similar to food in UK. e.g. same food laws and food that is actual tasty / healthy. LOL
(sorry, I've been to America and the food there tastes weird, man.)
Future
Now that the androids have rights, Cyberlife has to free all active Androids. Eventually they get around to RK900. Cyberlife only created one RK900 as a prototype before the revolution.
The RK900 goes by the name Nines. He ends up working in the DPD. (Months later.) It takes a while for Nines to deviate but he eventually does. Nines is rather stoic but he is nice. Him and Connor have a brotherly bond. Nines becomes friends with me, Connor, Hank and Trey. (Part of our little found family.)
In the future, when Connor and I are both ready we get married and have kids (either through adoption or sperm donation or maybe they find a way for androids to have kids in the future, idk?)
In the future me and Connor buy our dream house together.
--
So, Yeah that's what I've scripted so far. I keep one script on my PC and one in a notebook under my bed.
Feel free to use any ideas or concepts from my script
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Hey, everyone! Decided to post a Sanders Sides fanfic I’m working on. Here’s chapter one of A Self-Study on Abnormal Reactions Influenced by Patton:
Angst/Fluff (initial angst, mostly fluff), Logicality, Prinxiety, Chapter 1/?, 1,600 words
~Chapter One: The Initial Incident~
Logan liked rules as a general, well, rule. Rules, reason, and predictability were all very appealing to him. With those figurative tools at his disposal, life was stable, secure, and satisfactory. Thus, one could imagine that it was odd to Logan — bothersome, even, unsettling, perhaps — when his own life seemed to falter from its straightforward path. He did not understand something about himself, but he was Logic. Surely, he should be able to comprehend himself with ease. With a heavy sigh, Logan pondered these predicaments as well as the events that had occurred during the last three months that had led him to this moment, hesitant with a decision for the first time in years. Maybe he should have gone to sleep early that night.
The night in question, the very first night that something was amiss with the logical side, was December 12th. Roman, the resident drama king, had thrown what Logan could only describe as a childish tantrum over his own illogical ideas. As the prince in question rambled on, his tone grew angrier with frustration. Logan did not like that and narrowed his eyes.
“You guys never listen to me! Creativity is kind of my whole thing. I’m not saying that my video ideas are the most important, but, yeah, they kind of obviously are?” Roman ranted, rolling his eyes dramatically and crossing his arms.
“I-I’m really sorry if I made you feel like that, Ro, I just don’t think that Thomas can handle it emotionally right now,” Patton replied, eyebrows scrunched upwards in guilt and concern.
Virgil was far past his patience running out and stared Roman down out of protective confidence. With a few exasperated gestures, he explained, “Look, you... Simba-leton or whatever — Thomas is stressed out so bad that he can’t even sleep through the night lately—“
“And whose fault would that be, Virgil?” Roman snapped back, cutting off the man in question before he could even finish his sentence.
“I—”
“I’m not the one making him feel so worried all the time. Maybe if you calmed down, Sir, it would be easier for Thomas to sleep and to film my ideas. Maybe it would be better for Thomas’s career if you didn’t always bring him to a new All Time Low every time he gets busy,” Roman raved. Virgil went silent and averted his gaze to the floor as if it was too painful to look up.
“Enough,” Logan demanded, standing up and approaching the others. As he broke the silence, it seemed to snap Virgil out of his thoughts.
“You know I have, Roman. I don’t have to take this right now,” the anxious side muttered, much softer and sadder than the anger he had originally intended. As he finished his statement, he looked up at Roman — only Roman, no one else — for a split second, revealing deep pain in his eyes. Speaking of his eyes, were those tears or were the three others mistaken? They didn’t have long to confirm, since Virgil sunk out with another word. Roman’s face flashed with regret and desperation for a moment before he replaced that expression with false confidence.
“I just think that Thomas’s audience would really enjoy a video a day for the 12 days of Christmas. It would make their Christmases truly magical,” Roman insisted, much less angrily, with a fanciful wave of his hand.
“Yes, if Thomas were to successfully publish 12 high quality videos in the next two weeks, it would likely be a positive experience for the viewers,” Logan conceded, to which Roman smiled and Patton grew nervous. “However, Thomas would not be able to produce videos of the necessary caliber in such short notice and especially not in such poor mental health. Your plan would result in Thomas having a mental health crisis and uploading videos that would probably be subpar to say the least, assuming he would be able to upload all 12 at all,” he elaborated.
“... But isn’t it still possible?” Roman persisted, a little shaken and nervous.
“Possible, yes. Probable, no. It is a risk that is not worth taking because the likelihood of success is minimal,” Logan insisted.
“I’m sorry, Ro, it’s just kinda not a good time for such an ambitious project,” Patton agreed apologetically.
“Yeah… it never is,” Roman grumbled in a deflated voice, sinking out.
“Goodnight, Roman—” Patton called out after him, a little too late and with no reply. His smile faded and his shoulders fell.
“You know you don’t have to pretend to be happier around us, right, Patton? We’ve discussed this matter before,” Logan remarked, scanning the other Side with his eyes.
“I…” Patton sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to make anyone feel worse, ya know?” he responded with a sad smirk that quickly dissolved into tears.
“Patton—”
“I just wish I could help them better. I’m s-supposed to be able to, right?” Patton lamented, wiping his eyes with the palms of his hands even though more tears were still flowing and his cheeks were wet once more.
“Patton, you are doing your best. Everyone knows it and everyone appreciates it, even if we may not be very vocal about it sometimes. You matter and you are essential to the group. Sometimes, you can’t fix everything...” He hesitated as Patton’s lip quivered. “But, that is perfectly normal. Roman cannot fix every issue by creative means. Virgil cannot protect Thomas from everything. I cannot… solve every issue from my perspective alone. We need your input,” he reassured.
“Do you really mean all that, Lo…?” Patton asked with a look in his eyes that conveyed such vulnerability and excitement that Logan couldn’t help but find himself a little endeared. Just a little.
“Yes, of course, I do,” he confirmed, straightening his necktie.
Patton squealed softly and smiled as wide as he could. “That means so much to me! You’re the best, Logan. You always seem to fix everything. It’s so… cool!” He took a step closer in excitement.
“I am simply doing what I can to help, as always. Now, it would probably be best for both of us to get some rest. It has been a long day and getting enough sleep will help everyone feel better,” he recommended.
“Oh…” Patton murmured, seemingly disappointed.
“Is there an issue with that?” Logan inquired, frowning slightly in confusion.
“Um… not really. I kind of just wanted to ask you something first,” he mumbled, finding it difficult to meet the other’s eyes out of shyness.
“Ah. What is it?” Logan prompted.
“Well… could I, uh… would it be okay if I hugged you?” Patton asked nervously.
“I… I’m afraid I don’t understand. You’ve hugged me before with little to no warning. Why ask now?”
“I ask now because you never really seemed comfortable with it in the past. Too much… emotion for you, I guess. I-I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, of course! I only want to hug you if you would enjoy it too — or at least, not mind it. I was just wondering if you would be comfortable with a hug right now,” Patton explained, almost frantic out of awkwardness.
“If that was all, of course, Patton,” Logan agreed. Immediately, the other Side practically leapt next to him and buried his face into his chest while wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist. After a moment’s hesitation, Logan reciprocated this… display of affection and attempted to hold him in a comforting manner, since Patton had been so upset that night.
“I think this is the best hug you’ve ever given me, Logan,” the moral side remarked, though his words were a little muffled into Logan’s shirt. “You make my life so much better. I don’t know what I — or any of the others would do without you,” he admitted.
“I… appreciate that, Patton. It is nice to know that I’m appreciated in my efforts,” Logan murmured steadily, though he felt a little something was off in himself. Just a little, of course.
“Appreciated? Logan, we love you so much! I always talk to the others about how much I enjoy being around you and how helpful you are to everyone and how much you mean to me — er, to all of us, really,” Patton rambled, passionate with admiration.
“I…” Logan was at a loss for words… that boded poorly, not to mention that the “little something” he felt around his heart was turning into a much larger, much more concerning something.
“Right, sorry, I’ve probably been hugging you for way too long now. We should sleep for now, like you said, getting enough sleep is important so that we can be at our best to help Thomas!” Patton said, letting go of Logan, who may have missed that feeling just a moment later… he wasn’t sure.
“Y-Yes, that would probably be the best course of action for now. Goodnight, Patton,” Logan said, having to put in an abnormal amount of effort into keeping his voice steady.
“Goodnight, Lo,” Patton replied with a cheery smile. As the other began to sink out, he added, “and, uh… thank you.” His smile had grown a bit smaller, yet it was more tender somehow, softer.
“You’re welcome. I’ll always do my best to help when I’m able to.”
“I know.” And Patton’s smile widened again, which somehow seemed to affect Logan’s current odd feelings further.
The latter man sunk out and, once he was in his room, brought his fingertips to his mouth in contemplation and grabbed his notebook with his other hand. This situation was a new occurrence and it was fairly concerning. He would have to keep track of it and all its details in the most beneficial way he knew how. Opening the notebook, he began writing notes.
A Self-Study on Abnormal Reactions Influenced by Patton:
#sanders sides fanfiction#sanders sides#sanders side fic#fanfiction#sanders sides fluff#the first chapter isn’t very fluffy except the end#but it’ll get super fluffy very soon
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Cold (derogatory) and a Cat
My Secret Santa entry from the Discord Server for @madecunningly I hope you like it!!! Happy holidays!!
Starring: Quinlan Vos, a Cold planet, and Maul
Quinlan had been on this planet for about three Coruscant standard weeks, trying to look into a lead on one or several of the Sith – because apparently the Rule of Two had been put into a dumpster and then used as an illegal bonfire – and he was seriously considering a vacation on Tatooine.
Or to set himself on fire.
Forget the sand or the pain or whatever, at least it would be warm.
He was bundled in five layers of warm clothes, one of the layers being actual thermals, and he still was shivering all day long. Even while he used every trick in the book to keep warm.
(Admittedly, rubbing his hands did not help much when he was wearing thick gloves to protect them.)
He even put on a local cream to keep his face from freezing, but it was still cold.
Yesterday he had very nearly broken a good hand-width of his dreadlocks off, because there had been an accident with a fluid that he does not want to talk about and had indeed forgotten about in the chase that followed, until he had to return to his humble temporary abode for the night to avoid freezing to death. His hair had clinked like icicles clacking against each other when he had moved his head a bit too fast (he thought he had heard something, which probably was also his frozen hair), and curious where the sound came from repeated the motion, nearly breaking off his hair.
Not that it would have mattered much, it’s just hair, but the point he was trying to make is that it was too kriffin cold.
(He also objected to sleeves on a deep personal level, so this really wasn’t his preferred weather, but alas, a Jedi went where a Jedi must go.)
He couldn’t even use the Force to warm himself up, for several reasons: he was on the trail of someone potentially connected to the Sith or a Sith themself, so extreme caution was advised – nobody wants the Sith to go further into hiding then they already were. So low profile it was, and someone on this warmth-forsaken planet not freezing their shebs off was very suspicious. Even the natives were shivering. He also was still feeling the aftereffects of a concussion he had gotten in an unfortunate accident he did not want to go into any further.
It was nothing too bad but trying more finicky things with the Force did not make his head happy.
(People who got concussions often apparently were prone to headaches and migraines. Sometimes Quinlan really, honestly had a deep worry for Obi-wan. That man could take care of himself – although he actually seemed to suck at it – had an uncanny ability to survive everything the galaxy threw at him, but…still.)
In any case, to keep the spiral of mental commentary from spinning out of control, it was fucking cold, Quinlan did not like that, and he was so far not getting anywhere with his supposed lead.
He took a deep breath – or as deep as he could without feeling his lungs were freezing, even while breathing through a scarf and all – and carefully released his frustration and discontent into the Force. They would not help and rather cloud his decisions, anyway.
Somewhere in the distance Quinlan could hear people singing. As far as he knew it was a way to celebrate together before the White Wall hit and everyone would be confined to their homes for at least a week. Historically, before technology got better, it was one last big party before they would leave the other members of their community to whatever the White Wall had held in stock for them. Sort of like one last hurrah before potentially facing down the end. Or at the very least facing separation for a while without means of checking in with their loved ones – as was usual, those who were obscenely rich and could afford the according technology were the exception to this.
The White Wall was not a snowstorm per se, although unsuspecting strangers tended to refer to it as that. It looked in fact rather innocent, simple snow clouds, on most planets not any more harmful than simple rainclouds that brought the rain and then moved on.
But alas, on this particular planet, these particular snow clouds gathered and then brought snowfall for at least a week, without moving on, and it was a regular occurrence that everyone was snowed in by meters of the frozen water posing as innocent little white crystals. It was an interesting weather phenomenon, and also dangerous for uninformed sentients. Which were exceedingly rare because in modern times everyone got warned, so generally there was not too much danger anymore. Those who hosted guests stocked up generously on anything essential that might be needed. So today there was nobody really in danger of freezing to death due to the abundance of snow the White Wall brought. (Quinlan had opinions on that, and most of them were objections to this statement, because he was still freaking cold, but that was probably his frustration speaking.)
The tradition to meet up before the White Wall hit and celebrate with songs and dance and good food and also this one special drink they made for the occasion had stayed and was probably one of the most famous things this planet had to offer, right up there with the weather phenomenon that was the reason for the celebration in the first place.
He turned around a corner, intent to get back to the small inn he stayed at and found himself almost immediately hissed at.
There was a cat. Very fluffy. All that fur probably was needed in this cold. Desperately so, because despite all the fur it still appeared to be shivering.
It also, under all the anger it spouted in the Force, felt quite miserable.
Quinlan felt for the creature.
He knelt and sent gentle waves of calmness at the cat. “Today is just not a good day, isn’t it?”
He would have said horrible, but that would have probably been his frustration talking.
The cat continued hissing, as Quinlan settled down against the wall of a building close to it. Not that the hissing really bothered Quinlan. He steadily continued with exuding calmness. It worried him a bit that despite the hissing and general everything of the cat, it had not moved. Neither to attack nor to run away. Odd.
Maybe the cat couldn’t run? Being hurt would explain why it was so angry and miserable. He had seen a vet clinic only a few blocks over that had open still and could at least check the cat for injuries.
“You don’t look so good,” Quinlan looked at the cat that had stopped hissing quite so loudly. He was not quite sure why he was talking to a cat, but there had been stranger things happening in this galaxy than this. The Force seemed to be supportive and anticipating something.
“How about I bring you to the vet – there is a clinic not too far away – and you get checked out for injuries. And maybe we can find a place for you to stay? The weather forecast said the White Wall would hit tonight, and honestly, nobody deserves to be out in this cold.”
The cat looked a little bit like it wanted to make a face between straight up murder and questioning Quinlan’s sanity. It felt a bit rude that a cat was looking at him like this.
“Come on, inside a house it’s definitely warmer than outside, that has to be a convincing argument.”
The cat took its time, but it got less hissy gradually. Still not in the best of moods – which was perfectly understandable, in Quinlan’s opinion – but the calming presence Quinlan tried his best to exude seemed to do its job.
Once he was sure the cat would not attack him immediately with the intent to kill Quinlan carefully gathered the cat into his arms and began making his way to the vet. The cat was predictably very unhappy, but suprisingly it was not struggling too much. Mostly because moving seemed to hurt it somewhat, Quinlan thought.
The vet, while still open, was running on minimum staff. There was only one vet and one assistant currently on hand; their colleagues had already gone to the celebrations. The two in attendance had, from the looks of it, drawn the short sticks and had been assigned the duty during the following week – or weeks, depending on how much and how long snow would fall – to care for long-term patients or animals that had been brought here because the owners couldn’t take care of them during this time.
Basically, they had to pull double duty in the veterinarian clinic and the animal shelter that apparently was part of it.
Quinlan did not envy them their jobs.
Especially not once the cat seemed to regain some energy and made valiant attempts at scratching the vet and their assistant to death during the health exam. Not that they were bothered by it; they made jokes about thick skin and that was the extent of their reactions to it.
It turned out the cat – actually a male specimen, apparently – was perfectly fine health-wise. Cold and exhausted, but nothing rest and warmth won’t fix.
The assistant rang him up after the exam was over.
“That would make 15 Credits – the fee for our services. Oh! Before I forget about it – will you take him home with you? Or do you want us to keep him here?”
The cat stared at the assistant, ready to take their eyes out.
“I’ll take him home with me, no problem,” Quinlan said. He had a feeling if he left the cat here he would actually commit murder. Aside from that, the vet had said – after Quinlan asked, because small talk was a thing – that the shelter was filled to the brim. And he wouldn’t really have to worry about feeding the cat. His temporary neighbour two rooms from his own rented one had brought two tookas with them, so there would be some kibble available for sure. And if needs really must, he could always share his own food, he supposed. “Thank you for all your help.”
“No problem. It is literally our job,” the assistant chuckled good naturedly. “However, I think you should hurry. It looks like the snow is coming down soon, and nobody wants to be outside when the White Wall hits town.”
The assistant had a good point there. He had a good sense for orientation and the Force to boot, but he honestly didn’t want to be outside still when the snow really came down. There are dares and then there is being an idiot. He very firmly counted himself among the former section.
He said his good-byes, cat under his arm, and made his way back to the inn.
This was really not how he had thought his visit on this planet would go.
-_-_-
Darth Maul, Sith Apprentice and a Lord in his own right, had at one point come to the conclusion that his life sucked.
His life up to his defeat at the hands of Kenobi and subsequent half-existence spoke for that in and of itself.
It was only due to his stubbornness (his desperation, his clinging to life, not that he called it that, because it smelled of weakness he refused to have) and hate for Kenobi that he managed to survive the following years. Admittedly, he had used the Dark Side as a crutch, an aid to his continued survival. Not that his then-Master had allowed him to learn these arts, but when has not being allowed something ever stopped him?
In any case, with everything gone, the whispers and promises of the Dark Side had been constant. Had been there, had not left. Had fed from his anger, made him stronger in return, let him survive in return.
For ten years the Dark Side’s whispers and his own tinkering to gain a lower body-half again where the only noises he took note of.
Then he learned that Count Dooku, that absolute snob, had replaced him, that his master had simply thrown him away (he refused to acknowledge that the actions – or lack thereof – of his former Master had hurt) and Maul swore revenge. On Kenobi, for defeating him; on Dooku for taking his place; on his Master for casting him off like one might throw away a broken toy.
They would pay. All of them.
He had survived, and then he plotted.
Kenobi had to die, and he would do it himself – no matter the cost. Every time the place where his body met the prosthetic cramped, making Maul remember the fresh wound with a shadow of the pain he had lived through, he was reaffirmed in this.
Dooku had to die too. And it had to be humiliating. He had vague memories of other Zabraks, who had been…close…to Maul. He could use their power. Take them from Dathomir. Leave chaos in their wake, as the damned witches on that Force-forsaken planet had given him away like a slave that he had been. (It felt like betrayal – another thought Maul did not want to recognize in himself, unsure were following it would lead, which felt suspiciously weak, and he refused to be that.)
The witches would suffer for what they had done.
It had the added bonus of at least indebting the other Zabraks to him, as he would free them from the Witches.
Once they were on his side, he would train them, and train them well. It would take time, but he had time. He could be patient. (It felt like hunting – another vague memory from the life before he had been given to his Master.)
Besides, it was not like he had nothing to do while training them. He could study the material he would take from the witches, use their Magick to his advantage – as he knew for certain that Palpatine never had an interest in learning Dathomirian Magick, seeing it as beneath him. It would be an ace up his sleeve.
He could also go to other Sith Temples. Learn. Teach. Biding his time.
He had heard Dooku had a thing for rare artifacts, so if he found one it was a possible lure for his replacement.
As for his former Master – death for him was inevitable. Palpatine had not shared all his plans for the Empire he wanted to build – but that he wanted to build one was certain. He had already started with his plans; in fact, one of the early stages had been becoming the Supreme Chancellor.
Knowing about the Empire was enough for Maul to decide where he wanted to begin his revenge against Palpatine.
Every Government can be undermined.
And Palpatine would grasp at straws, and fail to do so rather pathetically, when Maul pulled the Empire away from underneath his feet. Or shattered it into million pieces. He was not sure yet.
Regardless, when Palpatine would see his Empire crumble right in front of his eyes, Maul would strike, and end the wretched life of the wrinkled bastard.
Or maybe torture him first and then end him. He had not quite decided on his primary plan quite yet.
Point was, he had a plan with backup plans regarding Palpatine’s end, and the majority of them involved him building up his own underground empire. (Name still pending.)
And to that extent he visited this damned planet (honestly who would want to live here, it’s too cold) that brought him back to his suffering, because he needed contacts.
And the contacts were not actually the problem. The problem was that he had grown curious when he noticed a Force Artifact in one abandoned building – a ruin, really – far outside any settlement.
So he went to investigate. The Dark Side whispered promises still, but there was something else that spoke of anticipation – good or bad Maul couldn’t tell.
The artifact turned out to be some strange metal, nothing he could identify on the spot, formed like a claw. There were ancient texts, or at least they looked ancient, written all over the cellar room he had found the claw in – both room and claw hidden away behind traps that were almost too easy for him.
He had been too focused on his little hunt in the ruin to notice it right away, but the thing speaking of anticipation had grown and smothered the Dark Side’s whispers into nothingness. In hindsight that had been a glaring sign something was about to go wrong.
But he didn’t notice, and now he paid for it.
Because the moment he touched the claw, he lost consciousness, and once he woke up again still in the cellar, he was a kriffing cat, and the claw was nowhere to be found.
And, because the universe hated him, the ruins had started to rumble ominously, little pieces of rock falling from the ceiling in a clear sign that he should get out of there as fast as possible.
Which he did, of course.
It simply turned out that the traps that had seemed almost too easy for him before were significantly harder to circumvent. Especially when he had not even heard the tiniest slip of a whisper from the dark side, only felt that anticipating something hovering absolutely everywhere, which was somewhat interesting, but also absolutely useless. (He was not a fan.)
Also it turned out the bonus of having non-metal legs (because that was a thing, as a cat he apparently had four functioning flesh limbs) was actually not that much of a bonus at all when weighed against opposable thumbs and said metal legs not needing muscle stamina to run.
Outside the ruins he watched as any option to figure out what was the power behind the claw – and it had to be some power in cooperation with the claw, nothing else would make sense – literally crumbled to the ground, and quickly was covered in snow.
There was, he thought furiously, very little chance of finding the ruins again after the White Wall hit.
So as anyone sensible who also happened to have received some form of training in the powers he had, tried to lift a few rocks off where he suspected the cellar had been. (Apparently, his room orientation was now also shot on accord of being a karking cat.)
Nothing moved.
Maul let out a furious yowl.
Whoever was responsible for this dilemma would pay, he would make sure of it. As soon as he found out who it was anyway. Until then his rage would carry him forwards, as it always did.
He found it disconcerting that no whispers from the Dark Side, no promises, reached his ears after this vow. Only the anticipating silence from the Something Else. It was almost eery.
He paced in the snow for a bit. (Unsurprisingly it was cold.)
He was a cat, had no thumbs, and basically no strength – neither in body nor in the Dark Side – when compared to his actual body.
There was simply no chance of him digging the cellar out. Not without his full set of power.
He cursed and got furious when he only heard himself hissing and yowling. Very angrily, admittedly, but it was just not the same. It simply made him angrier, but without the added benefit of more whispers and promises from the Dark Side.
Which, again, was usually always present and was now suspiciously absent.
Without another option in sight, and unwilling to die in the White Wall, Maul had made his way back to the nearest town.
Which, very frustratingly, had taken an eternity. It had also been miserable because in the midst of his way back it had started to snow, and he was pretty sure he had run in a circle before getting his orientation back.
He had cowered in an alley and made the very first being suffer with his claws (neat) that came too close.
Then the lack of stamina in this useless (aside from the claws) body had made his muscles cramp and he had been reduced to hissing and yowling curses at everyone that came too close.
A few beings tried, but while they didn’t understand his words, at least they got the gist of his message.
Until a Jedi walked into his alley. Because of course there was a Jedi present on this planet, in this town, walking into his alley. He was easily noticeable as a Jedi because the anticipatory something from everywhere seemed to give this person something like a hug.
Strange concept.
And then the Jedi had the audacity to not only ignore his threats and come closer but also sit down next to him.
That absolute bastard would meet a harrowing death at either his hands or his claws. Blood would spill. He would shred the Jedi’s clothes, scratch at their skin until the liquid of their veins-
The Jedi was warm.
The Jedi was warm?
The anticipatory something from before had become smug (rude) and mixed with the something surrounding the Jedi, who then seemed to make the something into – well Maul would guess the equivalent of a warm blanket.
It was one of the stranger things Maul had felt. He knew similar things from the Dark Side, had used it to intimidate people in a bar once because he wanted a booth for himself and they were in the way, so he had sent them cowering.
But this was new. Startling. Strange. But not bad?
How very weird. (But also comfortable.)
The Jedi made a few good points about not freezing to death outside once the White Wall hit, but still, the audacity to simply pick him up and bring him to a vet!
He blamed it on his still cramping muscles that he did not eviscerate the Jedi on the spot. (Never mind that his muscles were somewhat useable once more.)
The vet claimed everything to be alright with him, which, no, he was kriffin cold, this planet was horrible, and also he was a cat and not a Zabrak as he originally should be, but before he could claw the vet’s – or his assistant’s, he wasn’t picky – eyes out, the Jedi had bundled him up and they had left.
He would have to enact rage later.
To his great surprise the Jedi did indeed take him with them to the place they were apparently staying at, and did not randomly drop him in a dumpster.
Maul refused to feel grateful for it. He did not want to think about his success regarding this decision.
Instead, just to spite the Jedi, he aimed to be as much of a menace as he could be without access to his full abilities. For the next few days furniture got scratched up. The Jedi’s food was eaten or made inedible by him. Fur was shed excessively.
The Jedi cursed regularly at him, but never raised a hand. An interesting change to his usual experience with other Users of the Force. Usually there was always violence involved when he met with any of them, be it his former Master or another Jedi.
Not that he wanted to be fair, but the reason behind it might be that in the Jedi’s eyes he was a simple cat.
The thought disgusted him somewhat, as he was not merely a cat. He was more than that but communicating that was hard when he had no thumbs and could only do cat things and noises. He was stuck at angry hissing.
Then, one evening, the Jedi made the grave mistake of leaving their cup of tea on the counter while they went to the ‘fresher. Maul saw a chance and took it.
He sat next to the cup on the counter and waited until the Jedi returned, established eye contact, and pawed the cup over the edge. It fractured into tiny, sharp shards. The ground was covered in rapidly cooling tea.
The Jedi began cursing.
Maul’s work was done, so he leapt from the counter.
Or intended to, because the Jedi – for once without gloves because they had indeed taken a shower – caught him mid-leap with their hands.
“Careful you kriffin menace, there are shards every…where…“ the Jedi petered off into silence.
The something – which Maul assumed could only be the Force the Jedi preferred to use – around the Jedi was thrumming with activity.
And thus Maul hung suspended in the air by two hands for a while.
He didn’t even struggle to get out of the hold. He blamed being distracted by the interesting patterns the Force of the Jedi drew and sung in equal measures.
The eyes of the Jedi were staring unblinking at nothing right above Mauls head, right until they weren’t anymore and instead snapped into focussing right on Maul.
“Fucking shit.”
Well, that was eloquent. Not. But it summarized Mauls situation quite neatly.
“You’re Maul.”
Maul tried his best to frown at the Jedi, but alas, being a cat crossed his plans once more.
“Why are you a cat? No actually, how the fuck are you still alive? We thought you were dead!”
Maul hissed. It was not his fault that Kenobi was incompetent.
“Holy shit, you’re a cat.”
Now he began to struggle in earnest. While the Jedi seemed flabbergasted still, it was only a question of when that would change, and as soon as the Jedi stopped being…shocked, he guessed, they would try to catch him and ‘bring him to justice’ or something ridiculous, and Maul did not want to make that easy for them by simply hanging in their grip like a wet towel.
“No, hold on, wait, I’m not going to murder you! But I could use your help.”
If he could snort derisively, Maul would. Yeah, right. A Jedi wanted his help.
“Okay I know this sounds ridiculous, but – well. I. Uhm. I saw that you have plans for your former Master, which largely end with him being dead, and I want to support that goal.”
Sounded fake but he would hear the Jedi out. For now. Maybe he could get good connections out of this.
“Okay, so hear me out – wait, no, name first, I’m Quinlan. Now hear me out. We’re kinda getting desperate here. The war is going on and on, our men are dying by droves despite our best attempts otherwise, the Jedi are dying equally as fast – not that that interests you, you’re probably happy about that,” Maul was actually not quite sure if he was happy about it, or if he had apathy about it, or if it was more convenience than anything else if it actually was convenience, but that’s nothing he wanted to spend thoughts on, “and we hope that finding the Sith Lord, the Sith Master, and ending them will end the war and spare many people from dying.”
A valid reason for a Jedi he supposed. Now the Jedi – Quinlan – only needed to get to the point.
“You were the Sith Master’s Apprentice. You could tell us about them. What you know about their plans. Which would, in turn, ruin those plans because we – the Jedi – would do our best to stop them. It would align with your goal of making your former Master miserable. I would have to speak to the council but maybe you can be directly involved too, enact your revenge more directly.”
At that Maul clawed at Quinlan’s bare arms, because he was still a cat, and he could not take revenge on Sidious as a cat.
Quinlan flinched satisfyingly.
“Here’s where my counteroffer comes in,” he continues despite the scratches and while still holding Maul up. “The Archives of the Jedi Order are large and filled with knowledge. You would have access to it and I would offer my help to reverse whatever made you into a cat.”
Maul stared at Quinlan.
Quinlan stared back.
“If you are entirely against this deal shake your head, if you are willing to talk details, I don’t know, hiss at me or something.”
Maul stared.
Quinlan frowned.
“Yeah, okay, maybe talk was the wrong verb to use there.” He hummed in thought. “I think I saw an external keyboard for a terminal somewhere in this place. It had a weird layout, but you should be able to type something when I hook it up to my pad.”
Maul stared.
Quinlan stared.
“So?”
Maul hissed.
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