#last night and I'm probably being way too critical but I'm also like 'this is too self-indulgent. no one would even want to read this.' lma

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I feel accomplished because this week while I was at work during my free period, I wrote apparently about three pages worth of dialogue that I'd left in my WIP as "[insert more dialogue here later]" and I was able to tie it in to the rest of it (as in, what I'd already written after the "[insert more dialogue here"]), and while there are still places in my WIP where I was like "[add something else specific here?]" it means I'm done with that first...whatever it is, of my current WIP. (I still haven't decided if I'm writing just, like, individual parts of this WIP, or if they're chapters, or what. Most of them are super fucking long so I have NO IDEA what to call them. To call them chapters doesn't seem accurate given how long they are, so...parts?! I GUESS?! I'm not writing a novel, but I've also never written a novel before anyway and it shows.)

[captn-trex]

let me take care of you

Rex x F!Reader

word count: 5.7k

description: you have been suffering from depression for a few months and have shut yourself off from the world. a few weeks after getting laid off from your job, you get an unexpected knock at the door.

warnings: i'm gonna say this is 16+ just to be safe, heavily implied sex, depiction of depression, suicidal ideation, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mutual pining - let me know what I've missed !

a/n: okay so this is sooooo self-indulgent it's actually embarassing. I wrote the first bit of this when I was truly going through it and... yeah, it's just Rex taking care of the reader hehe, with a bit of suggestive stuff but not proper smut. if that's your kinda thing, I hope you enjoy! (also this is the first oneshot that I've actually posted so gimme constructive criticism pls !!)

Everything felt foggy.

For the past months, your life had felt like you were just going through the motions. Wake up, go to work, come home, struggle to sleep, and repeat. You didn't enjoy the things you used to anymore. It had been too long since you had taken a walk in the park, since you had sketched or written, and it hurt that you couldn't seem to even try and do them. Like there was an invisible force stopping you, and yet, there wasn't. It was just your own mind, lacking in whatever hormone would make you happy.

You couldn't find it in yourself to take care of yourself properly, and ever since being laid off from your job a few weeks ago, you had gone into the worst of it. You weren't eating properly, you couldn't sleep, sometimes staying up all night even though you would lay in your bed and just pray for it to be different. You hadn't seen your friends in months, though they would try and check in on you. You always told them you were busy, but you knew they knew what was going on. You had been like this before, though this time it was worse.

You shut yourself off from the world.

You hadn't been out of your apartment at all in days when you heard the knock. You made your way to your front door, and your breath hitched when you peered through the little hole and saw who was behind it.

Rex.

The clone stood in the hallway, his helmet at his hip, looking down the hall, and handsome as ever. There was no way you were letting him in while you were in this state. You hadn't brushed your hair in maker knows how long, you hadn't showered in… maybe a week? and the last time you had brushed your teeth was probably 2 days ago. Your personal hygiene was sorely lacking.

You watched the Captain through the door, your breath fogging up the glass, and jumped back when the knocking of the door reverberated around your small apartment.

What is he doing here?

You hadn't seen Rex since you lost your job, though he was among the few people who checked in with you regularly, trying to ask about how you were or convince you to come out of the house. Your stomach churned at the idea of people fussing about you, and now one of them was standing outside your door. A particular one of them that, in any given other state, you would be dying to see.

Your deep attraction and affection for Rex only made this situation more uncomfortable for you, the thought of answering the door making you feel physically sick.

You then heard your name called from behind the door in a deep, questioning voice, and your knees went weak.

“Are you in there?” He asked, followed by another knock.

You wanted to reply, to say anything, but you couldn't find your voice. What would I say? You elected to just go back to your bed, let him leave on his own, and pretend he was never here.

You scooted backwards but caught your hip on a table, sending a pile of your precious books hurtling to the floor. You held your breath, hoping Rex had not heard the noise, but it was no use.

Rex called your name again, and this time, it was gentler, “…Please let me in”

Your eyes watered as you walked up to the door, your finger hovering over the button that would cause it to slide open.

“I'm fine Rex, you can go” You tried to sound as resolute as you could, but the quiver in your voice was obvious.

“Cyare… let me in. I'm not leaving”

The nickname hit you hard, and you truly felt like clutching your chest as it pulled at the part of you that desired the clone on the other side of the door like no other.

You had met Rex years ago, at the job you had recently been let go from, working as a civilian medic on Coruscant.

The Captain could rarely be convinced by his brothers to take himself to the medbay, much more of the suffer in silence type. However, once you had begun working there, he had started making trips there for every little bump and scratch, and sometimes even when he was in perfect health, he would go claiming a cold or headache. He had always had a soft spot for you, and though he'd never admit it, he made it obvious. Everyone around him knew, everyone around you knew, but for whatever reason, you hadn't cottoned on at all.

He found you exceedingly beautiful, obviously intelligent, and just the most wonderful and bright spark of a person he'd ever met. Though, that was far from what you were feeling like at the moment.

You had also been enamoured by the Captain from the very start. The moment he walked into the medbay and made eye contact with you, you were done for. Whether it was his loyalty to his men, his commanding presence, or his wonderful smile that did it, you didn't know, but you were kriffed from the beginning.

“I can't let you in” You said, leaning your forehead into the door.

“Why not?” He said in a hushed tone that you could barely hear.

“I- I'm just not feeling well okay?” You choked out, vastly minimising the issue.

“I dont mind Cyare, just let me in. Please” He begged, but you just shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

You and Rex had grown into good friends quite naturally. In his needless visits to the med bay, he would often stay after hours and help you clean up, and you would fall into conversation about anything and everything. You shared many opinions about a variety of topics and would talk about your respective favourite things. Rex found that he learned a great deal about the wider galaxy from you, and he could hear you talk about art for hours upon end.

You were a fantastic artist, absolutely brilliant in any media, but Rex loved your sketches the most. You had brought him to your apartment once after work, when he had practically begged to see your work. He liked the simplicity of it, creating life with just a few stokes of a pencil. Your drawings held such character, such joy, such sorrow, and Rex thought that they were always so uniquely you. For that, he loved them.

“Rex I-” You didn't know what to say. You sank to your knees on the floor, letting your tears silently fall down your cheeks.

“Please…” He said one more time, and you finally broke.

You reached up and pressed the button, and the door zipped open to reveal your defeated posture to him. You dared not look up at him. You didn't want him to see you like this at all, but the thought of looking him in the eye when you knew how dishevelled, how weak you looked, you couldn't stomach it.

“Oh Cyare” He said softly and closed the door behind him, sinking to his knees in front of you. He tentatively placed a hand on your knee and began rubbing his thumb back and forth. “What's happened? You haven't been in the medbay for weeks”

“I was laid off” You replied quietly.

“What? Why would they do that?” He asked, genuinely confused. You were a talented medic. He could see no reason for it.

“Money is tight. We are at war after all” You chuckled a little bit, knowing that much was obvious to Rex.

“What are you upset about? I'm sure there's somewhere else that would take you, you're a great medic” He asked so innocently that you could almost laugh.

“It's not about that…” You sighed, running a hand over your face, still looking down.

“What is it about?” Rex said softly, shuffling forwards so his armoured knees touched your bare ones.

“I just… I can't do it anymore Rex” You whispered, the first time you had freely admitted it to anyone before.

Rex tensed up. He brought his other hand up and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head to look at you properly. The look in your eyes already told him the answer to the question he was about to ask, “Can't do what?”

“It. Life. Anything. I just want to disappear” You said, choking on your tears and overwhelmed by the thoughts that weighed you down. Rex's amber irises burned into yours with such an intensity, but not for long, as his arms made their way around your body, and he pulled you into his lap.

You cried into his chest, with him stroking your hair and holding you close to him with the other arm, scared that you would somehow get your wish and disappear in his arms.

He was at a loss for words. He couldn't understand how someone he thought was so wonderful and incredible could be harbouring such hateful feelings about themself. He feared saying anything that would upset you, and the last thing he wished to do was deny how you were feeling by telling you that you were wrong, so he just held you in his arms, silently letting you know he was there for you, no matter what. The sound of your crying was making his heart break, but he stayed like that until it died down.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He asked tentatively, drawing back and holding your jaw so he could see your face.

“I dont know… four or five months, maybe?” You replied, and it felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.

How had he not noticed anything was wrong? He felt like he had failed you, that your friendship was for nought if he couldn't even tell when you were upset. He didn't place any of the blame on you, but he had to ask…

“Why didn't you tell me?”

You sighed, “I didn't want to concern you with it. It's for me to deal with”

“What? It's not just for you to deal with, of course I'd want to know if you're not okay. I'm so sorry I didn't notice” He said, his tone so heavy with guilt.

“It's okay, it makes sense that you didn't”

Rex almost took offence to the comment, but the small smile on your lips didn't evade him, “Why does it make sense?”

“Uh, I guess I was always happy around you” You admit, “You- Uh we’re good friends, you know? I like spending time with you”

Despite the comment about being friends, Rex's heart soared, “I like spending time with you too Cyare”

“Why are you calling me that all of a sudden?” You asked. You knew what it meant, you'd spent enough time among the clones, and it was impossible to escape when you overheard their unabashed flirting on your few trips to 79s.

“Um” Rex gulped, not feeling like right now was the best time to admit that he was wildly in love with you, “I don't know, I care about you, you know? Like you said, we're good friends”

You nodded, seeming satisfied with the explanation, and Rex breathed out a shaky breath.

“I'm sorry you had to see me like this” You looked down, playing with your fingers as heat rose to your cheeks.

“It's fine, I really don't mind. Besides, you still look good to me” He said, and your eyes snapped back up to his instantly, your breath becoming short. Rex thinks I look good?

“Thanks Captain” You grinned shyly, your face feeling positively on fire at the compliment.

“It's no problem” He smiled, then he became more serious, “Have you eaten today?”

“Uh- no” You looked away again, feeling ashamed.

“Alright, let me fix you some food then” He readjusted his hold on you and picked you up, setting you down on your couch. Your head was spinning from the intimacy of feeling his breath fanning over your face.

“I don't really have any food here” You admitted sheepishly.

“Okay, how about this then” He crouched by the couch so that his eyes were level with yours, “Why don't you go and have a shower, do whatever you need to feel a bit better, and I'll go out and get us some food”

“Rex… I can't ask you to do that for me” You spoke hesitantly, but he shook his head.

“You're not asking, and in fact, neither am I” He said with a playful glint in his eye, “Go and freshen up, that's an order soldier”

You giggled at him and took the hand that he offered to help you up.

“Yes sir” You saluted him and marched off in the direction of the refresher, earning a laugh from the clone.

You stepped into the refresher and looked yourself in the eye for probably the first time in days. You did not look good. Your eyes held bags that looked so heavy that they could weigh down the skin they inhabited, your hair was a complete mess, and your skin was dull and lifeless.

You sighed, grabbed your hairbrush, and decided to start there. It took a few minutes, but soon, your hair was completely knot-free, and you stripped off and stepped into the shower. You took your time finding the perfect temperature, which ended up being almost scalding hot. You leaned your elbows against the wall, letting the water hit your back and relieving some of the tension you could feel there.

Now that you were actually in the shower, you didn't feel like leaving at all. Though, the idea of Rex being outside the door when you finished was enough for you to quickly wash yourself and your hair and hop out again. You brushed your teeth twice and moisturised your clean skin. Looking in the mirror, you looked a lot better than you did before you went in the shower, and you were eternally thankful for that. If you were going to see the person you had been in love with for years, you only wanted to look your best.

You stepped out of the refresher and headed for your bedroom with your dirty clothes in hand.

“Hey, are you-”

You jumped out of your skin when you saw Rex stood in the living area with a bag in hand, and he did too when he saw you with only a towel wrapped around you. Your eyes went wide, and you wrapped the towel tighter around your body on instinct, only fueling the less-than-pure thoughts that were spilling into Rex's brain. You looked so incredible, your hair dripping water over your body, which was seemingly glistening with its new cleanliness, and your towel left little to the imagination.

“Um yeah, you're out, cool, uh- I'll let you get dressed” He turned around and cursed silently to himself for being so awkward.

You just chuckled nervously, feeling utterly mortified, and made your way to your room as intended. You found a fresh oversized t-shirt and pair of soft shorts and slipped into them quickly, rejoining Rex in the other room.

He had taken off the top half of his armour, leaving just his blacks, the Republic insignia adorned proudly on his chest. The tightness of the top showed off his toned physique as if he wasn't even wearing anything, and you had to tear your eyes away from it.

“What did you get?” You asked quietly, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Noodles, is that okay?” He asked, looking to you a little nervously.

You chucked at his demeanour, which was decidedly un-captain-like as he looked to you for approval, “It's perfect, thank you”

You both picked up the boxes that held your food and dug in, and your bodies turned to face each other as you rested against oppsite ends of the couch. It was good to have a proper meal, with actually nutritious foods. When you had eaten as of late, it had mostly been ration bars or random snacks you could find in your apartment. You hummed contentedly, and Rex smiled at you.

“Good?”

“Mhm” You smiled, swallowing a bite, “Thank you Rex”

“It’s alright” He said nonchalantly.

“I mean it, thank you for… taking care of me” You said, then looked down, “I'm finding that difficult at the moment, so it means a lot”

“Cyare” Rex moved towards you and placed a hand on your knee, “It's really no trouble, I just want to see you feeling better”

You looked up at him and gave a tight lipped smile, “Well, thank you anyway”

“No problem. You look a little more alive now, by the way” He teased.

“Hey! You're the one that said I looked good before, you cant take it back now” You challenged, and he smirked.

“I'm not taking it back. You just look even better now” He said, but his smirk dropped when you froze up at his comment.

“You dont have to say that just to make me feel better, you know” You said, looking down and taking your final mouthful of noodles.

“I'm not just saying it” He said quietly, and you looked up to see his light frown. You put down your food box as he continued to stare at you seriously.

“What is it?” You ask.

“It's nothing, don't worry about it” He said quickly and put his own food box down as he finished.

“Rex” You scooted closer to him so that your knees were almost touching, “What's the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter” He avoided your eyes as he spoke, and you used the technique that he employed earlier on, gently taking his chin between your thumb and finger and guiding his gaze towards you.

“What is it?” You asked again, and his eyebrows pinched together as his eyes flicked between the two of yours.

“You're so beautiful Cyare” He said, tentatively placing his hand on your lower thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the gentle touch, and you searched his eyes for any dishonesty but only found them to be as earnest as usual.

“I- I should've been telling you every day since I met you” He said, his voice breaking just a little as he spoke so softly, “I should’ve been telling you how much you mean to me, how much I care for you, how important you are” He stroked his thumb back and forth on your thigh, sending tingles up your spine.

“Rex” You breathed out in a whisper, your hand sliding around to cup his sharp jaw. He leaned into your touch, and you felt as if you could melt at the sight.

“Say something” He urged, his eyes pleading for a conformation that you felt the same way.

“I-” You didn't know what to say. You felt the same, but the words got caught in your throat. It felt wrong to truly admit to your affection for him after bottling it up for so long.

“Rex, I've always cared for you, far more than a medic should care for their patient” You admitted, and his eyes lit up.

“You have?” He asked, and you nodded in reply.

“And for the record, I think you're beautiful too” You let a small grin creep its way onto your face.

“That’s good to know” Rex smirked, bringing his other hand to your cheek.

He looked deeply into your eyes, the eyes that he always found so fascinating, and he leaned his forehead against yours before tilting his head towards your lips. You shivered with anticipation.

“Is this okay? I don't want to take advantage of you if you-”

“Just kiss me Rex” You whispered against his lips, your eyes fluttering shut. He didn't delay after that. With your permission, he couldn't say no.

His lips met yours tentatively, as if testing the waters, but as soon as he felt you kiss him back, he pulled you in more urgently. His lips moved against yours, melding together as if it was how they were made to be. You felt your need for closeness growing, and you pulled him towards you as you deepened the kiss. Rex slid his hand up your thigh, resting it on your hip and tracing small circles with his thumb as his other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he devoured your lips.

Rex pulled back, his teeth lingering on your bottom lip for a moment, and you both caught your breath.

“I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that” You said, your breath still short.

Rex grinned widely, “Yeah? I can guarantee it's probably not as long as I have”

“Probably not” You chuckled, “Unless you somehow wanted to before you even looked at me for the first time”

Rex raised his eyebrows, “You've wanted to kiss me the whole time we've known each other?” He asked, and you nodded your head shyly. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I dont know, I guess I just figured you wouldn't feel the same” You shrug.

Rex just shook his head with a smile and pulled you onto his lap “Oh, how wrong you were”

“Is that right?” You smirked, “I'd love to hear all about just how wrong I was”

Rex smirked back at you, and placed a kiss to your cheek, “I've wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours ever since I laid eyes on you” He confessed, and your breath hitched as he continued to place featherlight kisses along your jaw. “I thought you were the most beautiful person I'd ever seen” He kissed down your neck slowly, gently nipping at you with his teeth at the point where your neck meets your shoulder, which earned a small whine from you, and you could feel him smirk.

“I've never felt the way I feel about you, about anyone else” He murmured against your skin, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling your scent.

His words were driving you crazy. They were all you had ever wanted to hear from him, and here he was, speaking them aloud as he kissed your skin so gently, as if you would break if he pressed any harder.

“Rex” You whispered, and he looked up at you, waiting for you to continue.

“What is it, Mesh'la?” He whispered back, his lips ghosting yours. You shuddered in his arms, your eyes fluttering closed, and he watched your every move with anticipation.

“Rex, I-” You leaned your forehead against his, needing an anchor before you spoke your next words, “I need you”

Rex's heart skipped a beat. Possibly a few beats. “What do you mean, Cyare?”

“Please, take me to the bedroom” You asked, begged, and Rex took action immediately.

He held you to him as he stood up, and you wrapped your legs around him tightly. He made his way to your bed quickly and gently laid you onto your back, crawling over you so he was holding himself above your body.

“You're sure about this, Cyare? If it's just a lapse in judgement because you're not in your right mind, I understand, no hard feelings” Rex stroked your cheek with his knuckles, looking into your eyes intently.

“Rex, please. My judgement is just fine. I want you. I've always wanted you” You said, the neediness so obvious in your tone. Rex's expression then settled somewhere between amusement and adoration.

“You want me?” He smirked, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Yes” You spoke breathlessly.

“Say it again” He commanded in a whisper, his amber eyes burning into your very soul.

“I want you, Rex”

He breathed out a shaky breath and brought his lips to yours, speaking between chaste kisses, “You have me, all of me. You always have. I've always been yours”

It was almost too much to hear. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you thought you'd made it all up.

“I've always been yours Rex” You whispered against his lips, and his breath stuttered.

“You're mine?” He asked in a murmur. The flame of desire burning in his eyes was clear.

“Only yours”

He pressed his lips to yours with a newfound desperation, his hand trailing down your body and holding your hips in place as he slipped his leg between yours. You grasped at his body, your hands finding themselves underneath the top of his blacks, and he stopped kissing you to pull it off. You absolutely marvelled at the sight.

In all your time knowing Rex, mending up his various wounds, you had never had the honour of glimpsing at his form without a shirt on. You traced along a scar at the centre of his chest, “How did you get this?”

“I was shot” He shrugged with a grin.

“No big deal for a big important Captain like you, I suppose” You teased and matched his grin as he rolled his eyes.

“Shut up” He mumbled against your skin as he buried his head in your neck, leaving soft kisses and less soft bites. You struggled to keep small moans from escaping your lips at his touch, and Rex noticed you holding back. He wound his way up to your lips, pressing a short kiss to them before he spoke.

“Don't hold out on me cyar'ika, I want to hear you”

You bit your lip and nodded at him, then kissed a trail across his strong jaw, earning a soft groan. As your kisses made their way down his neck, and you brought your hands to trail down his body, he groaned more deeply. The sound was driving you insane. Before you could breach the top of his blacks, Rex gathered your wrists in his hand and held them above your head, your eyes blown wide with desire and longing, your breath ragged.

Rex just looked at you for a moment, committing the intoxicating sight to his memory. His other hand found your face as he shifted the leg that was between yours, earning a whimper, “Don't worry about that, just let me take care of you”

You shuddered at his words, your body tense with anticipation for what was to come.

He looked so perfect, angelic even.

Watching Rex sleep was never a luxury you imagined yourself getting the opportunity to indulge in, but with it right in front of you, you weren't going to let it pass you by.

You had slept for a little while, wrapped up in Rex's limbs, and held closely to his body. You had been completely at peace, every struggle and awful thought that usually plagued you was pushed to the back of your mind and there was only him, his presence enveloping you; his warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours, his breath against your cheek and his chest rising and falling gently. Now, as you moved away from him and watched the cold light of morning creep across his features, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight.

You slipped out of his arms, a soft sigh escaping him in the process. Your heart clenched at the sound, only feeling your adoration for him growing once again.

You reluctantly tore your gaze away from him and went over to your desk, opening the left draw as quietly as you could. You took out your flimsi sketchbook and a pencil and made your way over to the chair that was against the large window overlooking the city. However, that wasn't the focus of your sketching today, not when there was a sight far more beautiful laying in your bed.

You opened up your small sketchbook and looked at the last thing you had drawn. It was a scene from the park. A couple sat on a bench at the edge of the man-made pond and smiling adoringly at each other. You smiled and pushed down the guilt at the realisation that you had drawn this over four months ago.

When you looked up to Rex again, your heart skipped a beat. The sun had risen a little higher in the sky and cast a golden light across the lower half of his face and chest. You took up your pencil and began sketching the view before anything could disturb it.

The sheets were pooled at his waist, showing off his toned physique in all its glory, especially as he slept with one hand tucked under his head. His features were relaxed, more relaxed than you had ever seen. His face often had a sternness about it that was undeniably militaristic, but that was nowhere to be found as he slept peacefully.

You had the outline and were now just adding the details. The small marks on his skin, some that you had fixed up yourself, and the large blaster burn in the centre of his chest. As you were adding some of the shadows to his face, you heard a small grumble, and your head shot up to see Rex opening his eyes, stretching his arms out.

“Don’t move” You spoke gently, and he looked to you, noticing your sketchbook in your hand as you sat curled up in your chair.

He smiled, a warmth spreading across his chest as he settled back into his previous position, “Like this?”

“Mhm” You hummed in reply, taking in the way the shadows on his face changed now that he was awake. “Relax” You laughed as you saw a small crease emerge in his brow.

He chuckled a little and relaxed with a contented sigh.

“Almost done” You said quietly, as if to not disturb your own work.

You quickly added the remaining shading, adding some small details of the bed and the room, wanting to capture the moment perfectly, so that should your mind ever forget it, which you doubted, it would be forever recorded. That was what you loved about using flimi over a datapad. The physicality felt more personal and permanent.

“All finished” You smiled as you closed your sketchbook and went to place it back in your desk.

“Hey! Aren't you going to show me?” Rex asked, and you looked back to him to see the crease in brow had returned.

“It's not very good, it's just a sketch”

“Cyare, I love your sketches. Please, show me” He spoke gently, an edge of seriousness to deny your self-deprecating words.

“Okay” You conceded, opening the sketchbook back up and sitting down on the bed to show him. Rex then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him, making you fall back into his chest as he laid down again. A delighted laugh escaped your lips at the sudden contact, and you looked up to Rex's face to see an equally elated expression.

He took the sketchbook from your hand and looked over the drawing of himself, his smile widening with each second.

“It's amazing” He said softly, meeting your eyes again.

“That's because it's of you” You smiled and brushed your nose against his, earning a small chuckle.

“No, it's… You make me look so…” He looked over the drawing and tried to find the right word to describe what he meant, “I'm not sure. It looks exactly like me, but… There's something else to it”

“Well, all the best things are made with love” You said before you could even really process what you were saying.

Rex’s eyes went wide as they snapped back to yours, “Love?” He questioned.

You shrank backwards, wanting the bed to collapse in on itself and swallow you whole, but Rex’s arm tightened around your waist, pulling you against him. You let the word hang in the air for a moment before clearing your throat and swallowing hard.

“Uh… yeah” You said awkwardly, looking away.

Rex said your name in a soft tone, pulling your focus back to him. He rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes burning into yours, “You love me?”

“I do” You whispered, gnawing your bottom lip at the vulnerability of the admission.

Rex met your lips in a sweet kiss, slow and deliberate, and pulled away a few seconds later. He caressed your cheek with his knuckles before he settled his palm on the back of your neck. “I love you too” He confessed, and your heart leapt to your throat.

“You do?” You whispered.

“I do. I always have. It's like I said, I've always been yours” He confirmed, repeating the words he had said last night. You brought your forehead to his again and closed your eyes, taking in the sweetness of the moment.

“And I yours”

Nothing was fixed. You weren't back to being happy and full of life like you once were, but Rex had reminded you why life was worth living. You were reminded of all the things that made it worthwhile, all of the things you loved to do, the things that brought joy and colour into your life. If you could just take it one step at a time, one day after the other, you would get through this feeling, and best of all, Rex would be there to support you when you needed him.

[brainrot-goes-brrrrrr]

Savanna Squad Presentation Night Headcanons/mini fic [1/3]

splitting this into three headcanon parts because my god its long

eat up :]

Part 1: Taylor & Logan Part 2: Ben & Tyler Part 3: Aiden & Ashlyn

Ashlyn's POV

So the question is: How did we get here? Simple answer really. Taylor. She was always the one to suggest these kinds of things, team building hang outs, though last time it was just us.

The rest of the boys had plans. Tyler had practice to attend, one of the late kinds, Ben and Logan had a project together due for bio in a day or two, and Aiden, for some reason, had a late dentist appointment (much to his dismay). Only Taylor could make it to the graveyard early. Initially, we were just meant to manage our resources, which was manageable with one person, but it was always easier with other people to bounce ideas off of. That's all it was meant to be, but Taylor had other ideas.

"Girls night!!" She had cheered, and we just hung out.

And I had fun.

But as Logan fights with his laptop to mirror on the T.V for the presenters, that being us, I can't help but feel like I'm going to regret this one. Especially with Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the background yelling about something that I don't want to know about, but will probably learn against my will.

Just as Taylor and Ben come downstairs with blankets and pillows, Logan's T.V finally projects the wallpaper of his laptop.

"It's set up, thank god," he sighs, with that last part being under his breathe. And as we set up in his living room, Ben dragging Aiden and Tyler from the kitchen, both with bags of snacks in their arms, and Taylor handing out blankets, we finally sit in our places.

The next question, however, is Who goes first?

Taylor Hernandez

Taylor goes first because she's the one who planned it and was the most excited about it. Aiden tried to go first, but it was collectively agreed that he would be going last for no reason other than to piss him off lmao

Anyways, we love a STEM girl (be still my own heart) so her presentation would be all about her tools and work for the mechanics club. She takes this club seriously, not only because it's good for networking, but because she genuinely finds it fun. I like to think that there are two levels to the club where one is just a standard club and the second level is a competition team, and she was shooting to be a part of the competition league (totally not projecting because I'm a robotics kid)

Her presentation is so well done. It's not only really well organized, but it is just so pretty. It's the type of presentation that teachers would drool over. Avid Canva user b/c it has a lot of customization options that she loves.

What's a toolbox tour without the actual toolbox that's just as decorated as her slideshow. And she takes care of it, too.

Her presentation is so fun and sets a fun tune for the night, and she manages to make this topic really engaging. She would have a little quiz at the end, too, where if one of the group gets a question correct, they get a piece of candy

shows off tools like she's filming a makeup tutorial, I saw this on tumblr, and it's just canon at this point. No criticisms are accepted because it just isn't possible.

Group's reaction

Ashlyn and Ben are the ones who pay the most attention to the presentation. Ashlyn also gets the most questions right at the end of the quiz.

Logan asks the most questions in between slides, but not in an annoying way. He does get a bit lost, though, considering just how many tools there are.

Tyler and Aiden are still bickering a bit. Aiden can't sit still for the life of himself, but he swears that he is listening. Tyler would say otherwise.

Aiden is, though, and he ends up getting Taylor a really nice tool set that she mentioned she wanted when presenting just because he can. He is her favorite for a few days. He absolutely would have a shit eating grin looking at Tyler to just say, "See, I was listening :D". Tyler would then say that he could go fuck himself /hj

Logan Fields

Logan is next. The laptop hates him, and it's old and shuts down multiple times in his presentation. The group then had to watch this man fight with a busted 4-year-old laptop and lose several times. Have you ever seen your parents fight with a printer the night before you have a school project due? It's like that, and the rest are concerned.

He is an astrology bitch, and I will take no criticisms. But like, not in the way that it controls his life, he would not be caught dead saying that the stars told him to do something, like not let him eat alfredo on Sunday or something like that. He's more interested in the concept itself since the idea of zodiacs have existed for so long. Its his comfort research topic.

Absolutely went HAM on researching each and every one of their birth charts. Ask him to show you his notes, and he would not show you. Why??? because he took up an entire notepad (it's one of the smaller ones but still).

"Logan's so innocent" "Logan's so sweet" "My boy can do no wro-" NO!!!! THAT MOTHERFUCKER WILL READ YOU TO FILTH AND I STAND BY THIS. ITS LIKE HE LOOKED YOUR SOUL, UP AND DOWN, AND EXPOSED IT FOR THE WORLD TO SEE (something tells me Tyler gets it the worse. idk why it just feels right)!!! If he feels like something doesn't fit one of the people in the group he is clear about it

"Here is Gemini, a social butterfly. Here is Ashlyn. A Gemini. I love Ashlyn, but like a year ago I have actually seen you jump a fence to avoid a group of people who go to our high school without thinking, and I would say that needs an intervention but you'd also avoid it by jumping a fence." "..."

The presentation itself is long as hell. Like he goes in depth about everything that he talks about, and if you interrupt him, he will shoot you with a spray bottle. Did I mention there's a group spray bottle? Guess why they have one.

Somehow, he is still only the second longest presentation.

Group's Reaction

Taylor is his biggest hypeman. I feel like she'd also enjoy astrology a bit, too, though she's more of a casual fan. She is also one of the few people who is free from Logan's jabs.

Ben is also free from his jabs because he helped him with the laptop, which, thank god, because Logan was about to lose it. I don't think he really believes in astrology. The most he knows is his sun sign on the surface level. He is invested, though.

Don't think Ash is very interested in astrology either, and at some points in his presentation, he just loses her attention.

Tyler gets sprayed at least twice with the spray bottle because he gets defensive. Surprisingly, I do think he would be somewhat interested and knowledgeable about his star signs at least, mainly because he had to deal with Taylor when she went through an astrology phase (let me tell you it was brutal).

Aiden is also interested and engaged in the presentation, but maybe a little too much. What I mean is that he interrupts at points and is the reason why the spray bottle exists. Logan is flattered, but istg Aiden if you interrupt this man one more time...

By the end of the two presentations, the group is in pretty high spirits and having a good time, despite the fact that two of them are a bit wet.

Logan's laptop, however, is not, and just as they were setting up Ben's powerpoint, it decides that it was a good time to perform a mandatory update and restarts.

Absolute silence.

You could hear a pin drop.

And all eyes go to Logan.

"..."

"..."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!"

Long story short, the presentations have to be postponed for around an hour and forty-eight minutes (maybe you never know with computers), and Logan is taking a walk.

[andhumanslovedstories]

hi! i'm gonna overshare a little bit but i'm doing my nursing prereqs right now and i'm really worried. i'm kind of really mentally ill and i've been worrying recently if nursing is worth it. i want to help people and it sounds so interesting and i love medical stuff but i don't want to get burnt out with the stress and long hours. someone told me that nursing is a lot like being a restaurant server, and i don't want to go to school and get a degree and a career that's literally just serving again. is it satisfying? is it rewarding? is it soul-killing? i'm scared

hi there! I'll overshare in return! I'm just coming off three months of disability for burnout (which for me is just depression but with a name you can use in the workplace). My job didn't cause my depression, but it certainly exacerbated it. The hours, the stress, the constant exposure to people suffering and the limits on your ability to do something about it, all those suck and they can break your brain. (On the other hand, I've been majorly depressed while working at an ice cream parlor where the walk-in freezer was for smoking weed. You can be depressed anywhere.)

And it is a hard job! Harder in some parts of the field than others. Different places have different nursing cultures, different laws, different staffing, etc. Where I work, there's good protection and advocacy for nursing. That's not true everywhere.

With all that said--I really like nursing. I get to do work that I know contributes good to the world. I get to solve very practical problems. I meet people I would never otherwise meet. I have the opportunity every shift to do something that I am proud of. And a lot of times, I find it fun! It's fun to brainstorm how to make someone who's been puking all night feel better. It's fun to see your efforts rewarded, even in small ways. It's fun to stop something before it becomes an emergency. It's fun bustling around, juggling a dozen different things. It's not ALWAYS fun. But for me, the work is not just meaningful but also enjoyable.

That's how I knew I had bad burnout btw. Even when things went well and I did work I was proud of, every shift was such a fucking slog.

If you are interested in the basic work of nursing (managing the human response to illness and promoting health), then there's a million and one jobs you can do with a nursing degree. They cater to different traits. I've discovered I really like precepting new nurses, I like working on the floor with its routine and concrete goals, and I like symptom management. I don't like critical care or the emergency department or working on stuff that isn't patient care, like paperwork and charge nursing. I like novelty but not chaos. I like independence but not being left entirely to my own devices. I like that I physically cannot take any of my work home. I do not like being on committees. So for me, right now at this point in my life, I like being a basic med-surg night shift float pool nurse. I would be absolutely miserable as a neuro ICU critical care day shift nurse. I would be bored to death being an inpatient rehab night nurse. Being a nurse manager would probably make me suicidal again.

If you find the basic work interesting and rewarding, you can tailor it to your taste. (I can't recommend floor nursing enough for the adhd havers amongst us.)

and last thing, regarding mental illness: I think a lot of nurses (and ppl in healthcare in general) struggle with mental illness way more than they think they do. Someone who knows they have depression and works to manage it will likely be more resilient than someone endlessly pushing through their fatigue and misery. Probably a better nurse, too. I take meds, go to therapy, get sleep, push myself to eat, take sick days, protect my limited energy, do physical activity--I'm a gym girlie now!!--because I'm treating a disease I know that I have. Just knowing that there's something up with your brain and doing something about it puts you way ahead like half of the people who work the emergency department.

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Frank is Pisces

I made a thread for this theory on TSBS Discord server and it blew up (it blew up so much more than I ever thought it would, like Jesus Christ. I'm super happy about it though). I figured that since I moved all my canon info stuff over here from the server, I might as well move my theory stuff over too

Long post warning, since there's a lot here. A lot of this exists because I was possessed by my adhd demon one night, noticed something about Frank, and then ran wild with it

(Last two pictures are part of a chart that SqarletGecko made for this theory. If Sqarlet sees this at any point, hi, hello! I appreciate you for feeding into this, Sqarlet)

There will be more images tacked on later. I'd add them now, but unfortunately, there's a 10 picture limit to posts. As stupid as that is. ANYWAY

Frank’s strong enough to kill two different witherstorms. Although him outright killing them was never verified, it was one of the only ways he could’ve come back so soon. The only other way would’ve been to wait by the portal, but assuming Moon would’ve closed it off due to the dimensions that Frank was in housing witherstorms, Frank would’ve had to find another way out

His name is neither Frank nor Forkface, so it’s entirely possible that it could be Pisces

Sqarlet pointed out that Castor said “Pisces is probably off doing his own thing”, which could be anything, and it certainly doesn’t preclude Pisces being on earth as Frank, doing whatever he’s been doing

In the “Lunar Gets Friendzoned” vrchat episode, Castor mentions Pisces again, this time saying (in reference to how Lunar’s “final test” would go, and how someone would be sent to judge his ability to control his powers) “Could be Nebula, could be Libra. Could be Pisces, but I doubt that. Hell, it could even be Taurus.” This is the second time Castor’s mentioned Pisces, as if he doesn’t have a whopping 10 other signs he could pull names from (minus Gemini and Pisces, obviously). This could be a case of simply sticking to a smaller pool out of the 12 names, but still

Castor has mentioned Pisces offhandedly two different times. Yeah, there could be a really simple explanation for that, but it sticks out to me, and I can't pinpoint why

During an Uno video, they did a “one breath for yes, two for no” thing with Frank, and he confirmed that he had a bad past. Given some of the things that Castor has said about Taurus, it’s a possibility that Frank/Pisces was trying to get away from him. Some other Pisces traits are that they’re supposed to be super empathetic and deeply emotional. If Taurus said or did something that impacted Frank/Pisces enough, he could’ve chosen to leave

For a while, Frank didn’t seem to react much when people acted scared of him, but as he’s spent more time with the channels, he’s developing more emotionally, which would make sense if he was younger. According to a google search I ran, “Pisces emotional sensitivity is high, helping them to remain in tune with others also leaving them vulnerable to criticism, worrying about about the effects that their actions might have on others,” which could explain why he acted so sad when he briefly appeared in the lobby in an FFFS episode and everyone acted scared of him

Pisces has a heightened emotional sensitivity, they're very in tune with the emotions of those around them, and this in turn makes them worry about how others might react to them

In another Uno video, Foxy made a lighthearted comment to Frank about how he reminded him of his son, since he has a habit of inserting himself into situations and things. There are other characters who do this too, meaning that Foxy could’ve compared Frank to literally anyone, and yet, he chose a character that’s a child. If Frank is Pisces, he’d be the youngest of the astral bodies

If you watch him, Frank does have some childlike mannerisms and behaviors. The first thing is the way he sometimes wants to show someone something, but then gets upset when they touch it. It’s like when a kid gets a new toy and shows their friend, but then gets upset when their friends tries playing with it because it’s theirs. The second thing is him apparently drawing on the wall underneath Earth’s bed. Drawing on walls is something that kids do. The third thing is him trying to feed Earth a piece of pizza. Kids will sometimes try to feed people too, though it’s typically only with people they’re close with, that they know pretty well

If Frank is Pisces and therefore the youngest of the astral bodies, there’s a chance that he chose to show up in the daycare because he knows it’s a safe place for kids, and that there are good caretakers there (Sun, Moon, Earth, and Lunar). He could’ve chosen a daycare attendant-esque form to blend in better with the daycare environment, or he could’ve copied what he saw of the caretakers there, much like how kids copy the adults they see

Pisces is the youngest of the astral bodies, so everything that Frank does that seems like something a kid might do,, could sort of tie in with that. Frank has seemed to somewhat mature and "grow up" in a sense as of recently though, so these childlike habits and behaviors have begun to become rarer and rarer

Pisces has ties to illusions, dreams, and the subconscious. This could explain the times when Frank appeared in both Monty and Earth’s dreams, and then dragged the Stitchwraith into his own mind. In the case of Monty’s dream, Frank knew that they’d had problems with their dad and he’d even offered to be their listening ear, so seeing the shape Monty was in emotionally and mentally after their dad died, Frank may have guided them to an image of their dad to try to promote a form of closure and emotional healing and recovery before Monty woke up (did I mention that being a healer is also a Pisces trait?). He was silent in the dream, so Monty’s mind couldn't have heard his signature heavy breathing and did something funky with that. In Earth’s case, Frank somehow knew that she was having a nightmare and he came to wake her up, repeatedly saying “no fear”, as if he was telling her not to be afraid. With the Stitchwraith, the Stitchwraith wasn’t aware that he’d been pulled into his own mind. Frank didn’t confirm that he was until he told the Stitchwraith that “It’s just a bad dream, a nightmare”, and told him to wake up

More Pisces traits are wanting to help people and being a healer. Adding in the ties to illusions, dreams, and the subconscious, I feel like creating dreams to help people recover from things wouldn't be too farfetched. In the case of Earth, Frank knew she was having a nightmare and wanted to wake her up so that she wouldn't be scared anymore. To this day, I have no way to explain how he could've possibly known about her having a nightmare, aside from sensing her distress and/or having some kind of connection to her subconscious

I found a snippet of an article that said “When we meet Pisces, we are taken aback by their remote coldness; they often act like confused geniuses or oddballs who have trouble interacting with others.” It’s confirmed that Frank is highly intelligent; he somehow knew how to get into Moon’s computer and registered himself as the primary user, and he somehow swiped Foxy’s voicebox and installed it in himself, then took it back out and reinstalled it in Foxy. Frank is also an oddball, but I don’t really need to explain that one

Frank has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t like Ruin. He’s had many opportunities to take him out or even just attack him, but he hasn’t. Castor has stated that astral bodies typically don’t get involved with things or associate with people unless they really need to. If Frank is Pisces, he may have avoided going after Ruin because it’d go against the rules

There are some mixed messages on whether or not Pisces is a rule follower, but a couple things I found that stuck out to me implied that sometimes they follow the rules, and sometimes they do whatever they want as long as they’re satisfied. We were given a glimpse of this with Frank when Lunar tried to run him over with a car in a vrchat episode. Frank didn’t seem to care as much about the fact that he was nearly run over, and instead, became agitated with Lunar for parking incorrectly. He also made Lunar get in his car, and then proceeded to move it out of the alley and to the drive thru, where Lunar was supposed to be anyways. He might’ve also reacted poorly to Monty and Earth bringing a goose into the restaurant they were in, since animals don’t belong there. Beyond that, Frank’s also gotten upset with Sun and tried to menacingly follow him around the room when Sun cheated during a game of Uno, showing that he doesn’t like cheaters

Frank seems to have a knack for interrupting people’s dates. Most of the time, he’s trying to help but doesn’t seem to grasp that his behavior might be making people uncomfortable, BUT according to google, the Pisces sign is known for being jealous of other people’s love lives. After the death of Ruined Monty, Frank may have started to feel a little jealous of others

According to google, “most Pisceans are very good at earning a stable living,” and “they are usually very effective in any career that needs collaboration with others or inventiveness.” It’s been stated before that Frank works in at least three different restaurants, and a restaurant type environment would require collaboration with others to keep everything running smoothly. He’d be earning good money from those three restaurant jobs, and another Pisces trait is wanting to help people, so working in a restaurant would be a way for him to do that

Strengths of Pisces would include being selfless and thoughtful, passionate and creative, gratitude and self-sacrifice, tolerance and a keen understanding, and being kind and sympathetic. Weaknesses of Pisces include being influenced by their surroundings, being careless, rash, and ill-disciplined, having an inability to confront reality due to an absence of confidence, being insecure, sentimentalism, indecisiveness, and a lack of foresight. These are all from a chart I found, and although I don’t think we’ve seen too many of these weaknesses in Frank yet, we’ve definitely seen a lot of the strengths

We have no idea where Frank was before he first showed up at the daycare. Fazbear apparently had him shipped in to replace Moon, but with how easily he got into Moon’s computer, it wouldn’t be too farfetched to assume that he could’ve possibly also hopped onto a different device and sent a fake email, posing as Fazbears to keep people from asking too many questions about why he’s there

Like Sqarlet has said, we’ve noticed a pattern of astral signs following the usual astrological descriptions, but it’s not necessarily a rule, nor is it to a T. It’s very possible that Frank mostly follows the general tendencies of Pisces, but still has individual quirks and such that are different. It could be a case where perfectionism or a preference for rule-following/organization is just a lil personal thing of his, unrelated to astrology

Another thing suggested by Sqarlet is that the Pisces dealio might explain why Frank’s general choice of appearance is generally uncanny/unsettling. Astral bodies don’t necessarily have a spectacular grasp on how to Aesthetic effectively, at least from an earthling’s perspective

Eclipse once used star power to get into Puppet’s dreamscape, when Puppet was on his way to get Lunar. If star power is what makes dreamscape stuff possible, then Frank would need access to it in order to do the same (see: all the dream stuff he did with Monty and him showing up in Stitchwraith’s dreamscape)

Whenever Frank appears, whoever he appears around is usually experiencing a negative emotion of some sort. Some instances of this can be seen when he showed up and tried to talk to Monty after Monty had a fight with their dad and was frustrated, when Earth and Sun were worrying about Lunar when Lunar lost his voice, when Sun got turned into a dragon and was panicking, and when Earth had a nightmare and was freaking out over it

Foxy’s implied that Frank was probably trying his best to be helpful, during all the dates that he unintentionally ruined. Which… means that although Frank is trying his best to be helpful, he might not understand what “normal” behavior looks like, then he messes up, and then he gets upset when people misunderstand him and his intentions, or when whatever he’s doing ends up backfiring in some way. Pisces’ loves to help others and can’t stand being misunderstood, so this lines up beautifully

During a podcast episode, Frank breathed heavier when Castor and Pollux were mentioned, implying that he may know them. Given how he even attempted to speak again, he likely had some kind of thoughts or feelings toward them, too

The astral bodies are typically aware of almost everything that happens. This might explain how Frank (if he’s Pisces) knew that Foxy would be alone on Christmas. It was only Foxy, Freddy, and Francine present when the Stitchwraith took FC, so unless Frank was spying on everyone or has taken to watching the channels like Ruin apparently does, he shouldn’t know what happened

If the Foxy’s Intervention episode is anything to go by, no one ever knows where Frank is, and yet, he still knows where he’s needed and goes there to help

With the way that Pisces deals with illusions just as much as dreams and the subconscious, it’s possible that the Frank that the Stitchwaith saw was just an illusion. This could explain why Frank wasn’t hit by Stitchwraith’s weird chest laser thing (unless he quickly teleported out of the way), and why we never saw him go up to the Stithwraith and try pushing him around or anything, despite how Frank was acting toward him. We’ve seen Frank physically interact with people before, so we know he can, but if he was an illusion, that wouldn’t be possible

Something else to consider that I haven't shared with the theory thread yet (that I can remember) is that when Pisces feels hurt or betrayed in any way, they can be incredibly vengeful. Their vengeance, according to a search I ran, could be intense enough to break trust and damage relationships, if they're not careful. In killing ruined Monty, Bloodmoon may have unknowingly made Frank feel so deeply hurt that Frank has now decided that he needs to get revenge on him. He kept saying things during their encounter that made it feel like he may be entertaining the idea of getting rid of one of the twins, which... follows a very "you took away someone who meant the world to me, let's see what happens when I do it to you" sort of logic

[katesmemes]

feel free to change any pronouns, etc. || may contain some nsfw!

"I don't think that blush is your shade."

"I'll probably just stay home."

"This is the first critical rager of the year."

"You know what your doctor said."

"You need socialization."

"Why don't you use my tanning bed?"

"You're in need, babe."

"I'm really sorry you got electrocuted."

"Are you hot for anyone?"

"[Name], [Name], [Name], [Name], [Name], [Name], [Name]!"

"I don't know who that is."

"He doesn't play sports; he's cerebral."

"This party is gonna be clutch!"

"These things will turn your feet into hamburger helper."

"It's not haunted, just abandoned. Desecrated."

"Well, I heard [Name(s)] do witchcraft over there."

"I've never seen anybody there."

"I think it's really peaceful and quiet."

"I talk to him sometimes."

"I brought this for you."

"It's kinda morbid when I wear it so I wanted you to have it."

"That's really weird, [Name]."

"I just don't think anyone should be forgotten."

"Y'know, I wasn't gonna say anything, they were such a mess, but you look amazing now!"

"Oh my God, [Name], bag your face!"

"How do you know my name?"

"So what exactly happened to her?"

"I can never ever talk about it, for personal and legal reasons, and i also pinky swore, but I guess I can tell you. I trust you."

"I'd be screwed up if I were her, too."

"Hi, sorry, how do we know each other?"

"You're being so dramatic."

"This is not what I expected from you; you have so much potential."

"Lets find somewhere for you to sit for a bit, yeah?"

"I hate parties like this; I don't even know why I came."

"Your hair feels like easter grass."

"You know it's not nice to lead people on."

"I wish I was with you."

"It's okay; everyone does it."

"You should probably get going."

"Did you smash the mirror in the bathroom?"

"Do you know what happens to people who act out?"

"How about an apology?"

"I feel like I may want to apologize for what happened last night."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay."

"Oh, is there pizza left?"

"I think I'm gonna skip the movie."

"I'm just really tired from work."

"Do you know how hard that is on the groin muscles?"

"It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Do you like this song?"

"We're better off up here in case anyone comes home."

"I haven't said this many words in a row in forever."

"I hate to say it, but you're either crazy, or just goddamned inconsiderate!"

"You're kind of absurd, aren't you?"

"I really don't get your fixation with that one."

"There are plenty of halfway-dece guys who would date you."

"I wanna help you, I really do, but I dunno how."

"It's a waste of time to try and fix a boy; it's better to just accept a guy's flaws."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What happened to your neck?"

"You don't want to hold my hand?"

"This whole place gives me the creeps, okay?"

"I thought that was a really cool thing to say."

"Don't feel bad about what we did!"

"You saved me."

"Is that a rad new trend or something?"

"I don't play with dolls anymore."

"I'm sure there's some explanation."

"You know I'm usually pretty cool about things, right?"

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"You have no idea how scary this is."

"I actually feel like something's wrong."

"People are so afraid of death because they dunno when it's gonna happen to them."

"I'm not afraid of death anymore."

"I don't wanna die a virgin."

"I want to do it with someone I truly love."

"You're so supportive."

"I love our conversations."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude."

"How about I drive since you're not feeling so good?"

"Your boobs look great by the way."

"This is just too freaking much."

"It's your fault we're screwed."

"You act like you're happy for me, and you care about me, but you're not really happy for me."

"You couldn't let me have this one thing?"

"You knew I liked him and you went after him on purpose!"

"I swear, I would never do that to you!"

"Guys usually only want me for one thing."

"It just was never gonna work out between us."

"I don't have feelings for you like that."

"Do you know how uncool that is?!"

"Uh, you're not making any sense."

"Thank you for being nice to me when no one else was."

"You're the type of person who usually bullies me or looks right through me, but you didn't."

"You actually went out of your way to try to tell people I was part of your family."

"You really actually wanted me to be your sister..."

"You're a great person, [Name]."

"Listen, we're running out of time."

"Make love to me."

[radiojamming]

Hartnell fact time again? Hartnell fact time again!

We have a pretty spot-on timeline of the last few months of John Hartnell's life thanks to Hartnell's Time Machine—which is to say, his nails.

These three graphs show the amount of copper, zinc, and lead in John's system from the time the Expedition was in Greenland to his death on January 4th, 1846. It's how we know he had a critical zinc deficiency, and it shows how the concentration of led in his body was higher when he was in England, and lower as the Expedition progressed.

Incredibly, because of this study, we can nearly tell the exact date John started to get sick—November 17th, 1845. There are brief spikes in copper and zinc (and a wee bit of lead) in early December—possibly due to applications of medicine and food as someone tried to help him get well. The final, massive spike at the end is his body breaking itself down, trying to find any and all nourishment to prolong its life as long as it could. We know from Inglefield & Sutherland's examination that they were able to identify a "wasting illness" when they felt his body, and Beattie's team in 1986 found no content in his stomach or bowels, so he hadn't eaten anything for some time before his death.

Unless we had a literal time machine, we don't know what his last days were like. This study, though, manages to give us a better idea of what might have happened.

We know his zinc deficiency was pronounced, so he probably would have had symptoms like night blindness, loss of appetite, exhaustion, irritability, hair loss, slow wound healing, and GI issues like loose stool (sorry buddy). We also know from his x-rays that he had prior injuries to his neck, shoulders, and ankles. Some were older injuries, some were newer. It's entirely possible that his symptoms of zinc deficiency and TB lowered his lack of awareness, leading to workplace injuries.

I know I kind of tease about John "Glass Bones and Paper Skin" Hartnell, but I'm fully aware that the last months, weeks, and days of his life were truly miserable. He was most definitely in pain, batting a thousand against a body that was fighting itself and trying to win.

Maybe people around him—crewmates he'd known from his time on the Volage, his own family—noticed a change in his personality. Maybe they saw the exhaustion on his face, him wincing in pain when he moved the wrong way, pushing food around his plate with disinterest, maybe he snapped at them or said something uncharacteristic that set off alarm bells. Someone, somewhere, knew something was wrong. At some point around late November and early December, he started getting treatment. By then, though, it was far too late.

It's a creative exercise more than anything. Like I said, we can't know what the end of his life look like. We have to take scans of his nails, x-rays, and the appearance of a thrice-exhumed mummy to guess. But we also can see that someone loved him enough to give him the appearance in death of being comfortable. Knowing what we do know about how much discomfort he had to be in, this might have been completely intentional. He was given a pillow, blankets, extra clothes, a hat. Even at the end of the world, he was loved.

[linkspooky]

Okay, so I received an ask in response to an MHA critical post I received last night that I originally responded to, but then decided to delete the ask and the original post because I didn't want to get into an argument.

However, I feel like I should address one of their complaints about a post I made last night. That I was being too dismissive on the cultural reasons for some of the writing choices Horikoshi made because I am obviously not a part of the culture that Horikoshi grew up in and is commenting on in his piece of work.

I tried not to dismiss the cultural reasons entirely in the post though, I just said I don't think you can entirely blame Hori's writing choices on them. My cited example was there are other shonen jump mangas that don't go out of their way to gruesomely kill their villains (which is what I'm taking fault with.) I understand that the death penalty is a common response to murder in japan, but within the realm of fiction of shonen manga doesn't have a trend of killing all their villains.

But yeah, that might have been a shallow argument.

So there are different lenses of fiction you can criticize Horikoshi's writing on, because every piece of fiction is in fact influenced by the culture it's in, as well as obviously the author's personal life and unconscious biases but that's not all. There's also genre to consider, and influences / inspiration the author might have taken from other works.

For example, there is also genre in particular MHA is written as a response / commentary to both western comics and classic shonen jump manga. Horikoshi said in an interview:

“Probably have to be Goku and Spiderman. To me, when mentioning heroes, these two are the ones that I think of. In Goku’s case, it’s the reassurance that everything is going to be fine he brings when arriving.” 

There are multiple critical analysis lenses that you can analyze a story from. If you're talking about MHA from a feminist lens then you're likely to stick to topics relevant to that, like say japanese feminist movements. If you're talking from the sociopolitical angle then it's relevant to discuss collectivism, and especially how it inspired the Todoroki Family. However, my intent wasn't to dismiss sociopolitical reasons as why Horikoshi chose to write the story this way, but to say it's not the only reason that informs Hori's storytelling choices. MHA isn't just one thing it's multiple thing, me deliberately choosing to talk about MHA as a response to both eastern shonen manga and western comics is a valid critical lens to apply to the manga. You can talk about both obviously, but that was a pretty short post. Perhaps I didn't word my post the best but please try to be understanding that I can't make a post covering all of my bases on leaks night.

For a manga where Horikoshi cited his concept of heroism comes from Goku and Spiderman, they both don't kill their villains, Goku specifically let Vegeta live so if those are his inspirations the choice to kill every villain is weird to say the least.

I can make the argument that MHA fails as any kind of meaningful commentary on comics in general because it doesn't seem to understand the comics it is taking inspiration from. The X-Men are the underdogs in their story, not members of the privileged class they are the outcasts. Batman doesn't kill people because he believes that most of his mentally ill victims turned villains deserve a second chance and he can't dictate who deserves recovery and who doesn't.

If anyone reading this post is curious, here are posts by @siflshonen that discuss both the manga influences and comic infleunces easter and western infleunces on MHA, and also the cultural ones. They are also really long posts because those topics require a great length to discuss critically. This one is about MHA's manga DNA in regards to Bakugo's character, and specifically references Yu-Gi-Oh and Kaiba's character as well as Jonouchi as response for Bakugo's development arc from bully to best friend. This one discusses more about the nuances of collectivism. This one is in reference to the Todoroki family, it discusses both collectivism / japanese family roles / honnae and tatamae concepts that the Todofam is critiqueig, and also how Enji is inspired by eastern ideas of heroes while All Might is inspired by western ones. (Therefore it's not a wrong critical lens to compare MHA to other shonen manga and western comics because that is literally what the manga is taking inspiration from and commenting on).

Here's a powerpoint presentation by @sans-san that discussed Hegemonic Masculinity in Tokyo Ghoul in terms of work culture and how the CCG is inspired by that, which I think also applies to Enji's character as well.

This post by @bnhaobservation spoke about how the Todorokis decision for not disavowing or abandoning Toya after he was sentenced to life in prison would still be a progressive ending to the TODOFAM arc, and while I still wouldn't have been satisfied by that ending I'd at least be able to accept it. That is however, not what we got, we got Toya dying a slow agonizing death while hooked up to life support. So we could have still gotten a slightly softer ending where Toya's at least allowed to live that would have still been in line with the values of the culture that produced MHA.

This post by @bnhaobservation also talks about how the Todofam plotline can still be seen as progressive in some ways in regards to his criticism of Enji's parenting, because of certain outdated attitudes of parenting that still exist about Enji pushing Shoto to his absolute limits.

However, I don't want to debate the person who sent the ask, I just wanted to clarify I'm not trying to make a reductive statement that sociopolitical circumstances have nothing to do with Hori's writing choices, but that you can also analyze it from a lens of genre, commentary on comics and shonen manga, and also the predecessors he's taking inspiration from. All of these things have an inspiration on Hori's storytelling choices.

Since I'd rather not debate, now that I've gotten clarifying things out of the way I'm actually going to use this post as a book reccommendation.

Here's Shigaraki with Underground, one of my favorite books. It is a non-fiction work from famed fiction author Haruki Murakami about the Saren Gas attacks.

On a clear spring day in 1995 five members of a religious cult unleashed poison gas in the Tokyo Subway system. In an attempt to discover why, Haruki Murakami talks to the people who lived through the catasrophe and lays bare the Japanese Psyche.

For those who are unaware the Saren Gas attacks were a terrorist attack where members of the Aum Shirikyo cult released saren gas in the public subway system. It is the biggest japanese terrorist attack in modern japanese history and at the time and even the modern day it was a great shock to them as a whole.

The book consists of several interviews with the victims of the attack, and they are incredibly harrowing to read I remember crying while reading this book multiple times. However, at the end of the book after giving considerable time to let the victims share their stories Haruki Murakami also devotes space in the book to interviewing former members of the Aum Shirikyo cult.

Haruki clarifies his intent in his decision to include testimonial from the cult in the afterword of the novel. "As I worked on this book I attended several of the trials of the defendants of the Tokyo Gas attack. I wanted to see and hear those people with my own eyes ad ears, in order to come to some understanding of who they were. I also wanted to know what they were thinking now. What I found there was a dismal, gloomy, hopeless scene. The court was like a room with no exit. There must have been a way out in the beginning, but now it had become a nightmarish chamber from which there was no escape. [...] To all of them I posed the same question, that is, whether they regretted having joined Aum. Almost everyone answered: "No, I have no regrets. I don't think those years are wasted" Why is that? THe answer is simple - because in Aum they found a purity of purpose theycould not find in ordinary society. Even if in the end it became something monstrous, the radiant, warm memory of the peace they originally found remains inside them and nothing else can replace it. [...] However, as I went through the process of interviewing these Aum members and former members, one thing I felt quite strongly was that it was't spite of being part of the elite that they went in that direction, but because they were a part of the elite. [...] However, we need tor ealize that most of the people who join cults are not abnormal; they're not disadvantaged; they're not eccentrics. They are people who live average lives (and nmaybe from the outside, more than average lives), who live in my neighborhood and yours.

Haruki interviews members of Aum Shirikiyo because he wants to make the point that the people in these cult aren't from a dangerous fringe element of japanese society, but rather they are normal people, some of them even highly educated. The capacity to commit those crimes exists in normal people, and also the capacity to fall victim to a cult.

The Ikuhara anime Mawaru Penguindrum is heavily inspired by both the Saren Gas attacks and the questions that Haruki Murakami asked in the Underground. Fully covered here in this article: Exploring Mawaru Penguindrum 2011 from a historical, cultural and literary perspective here.

Underground was Murakami’s attempt to interview survivors of the Sarin Subway Attack. Apart from learning the perspectives of ordinary citizens involved in that shocking incident, he also managed to interview several members of Aum Shinrikyo and tried to get their point of view on the matter. (In the Japanese edition of the book, the interview with the cult members were published in a separate book, titled The Place that was Promised.) It was an important piece of journalistic work that criticized the public’s attitude of questioning what happened, instead of asking the proper question of why it had happened. In the anime, viewers knew that an event took place in 1995 that affected all the characters, but what exactly was the event about? Why did the people do that? What social factors attributed to the occurrence of such event? These are the questions that Mawaru Penguindrum asked, and one that we were left to ponder on.

Ikuhara and Murakami both exist in the same culture as Horikoshi, Haruki is an incredibly prolific japanese author and he was born in 1945 but both of them are able to ask more meaningful questions about the society they live in then Horikoshi accomplishes with the league of villains and the todoroki family. Haruki Murakami emphasizes the humanity of the aum shirikyo members and that they are not lunatic fringe members, and Mawaru Penguindrum is about the extreme social pressures that people especially children can be a victim of.

Literature is influenced by the culture it takes place in, but it's also a response to that influence and the piece of art that Horikoshi wrote just isn't as thoughtful of a response than what was written by both Ikuhara and Murakami.

More book recommendations if you're interested. The Setting Sun, by Osamu Dazai. Pachinko by Min Jin Lee. How do you Live? by Genzaburo Yoshino. In the Miso Soup by Ryo Murakami. People who Eat Darkness by Richard Lloyd Perry. Night on the Galactic Railroad by Kenji Miyazawa (I'd argue this is an example of good collectivism). The Memory Police by Yuko Ogawa. Out by Natsuo Kirino. There was a couple more I wanted to include but they had cannibalism in them so I thought it better not to reccommend them.

[utilitycaster]

anyway this is obviously a wild shift in the topic of conversation, but I was talking about it in the group chat last night as a distraction and would like to continue the distraction if I am being honest, so, with the caveat that this is based off of Fandom Osmosis Observations and a few reads of reviews and I have at this time played neither of these games, some thoughts about BG3 vs. Veilguard and what I've seen. many thanks to @captainofthetidesbreath for actually knowing things about video games and answering my many questions.

also just putting this up front with all said caveats: if you disagree that is great, I am very open that this is an outside observation and I could be very wrong but I am going to block people who get hostile without warning, and make this nonrebloggable if too many people get hostile. You are always permitted to disagree but like, I don't really care about your opinion if you're not someone with whom I have a pre-existing rapport unless idk you're like, actually a BG3 or Veilguard official story writer who happens to be on Tumblr. If you're a player? You have all of your own biases and they are not mine. Save it for someone who wants to get in a fight about this; I am not that person.

Essentially, what I've seen in terms of criticism from Veilguard that isn't just rampant transphobia comes down to the following:

why am I not playing my previous character from Inquisition again

why am I limited to a fairly consistent through line for the story

But first, I'm going to talk about BG3. What's funny is I seem like a much more obvious candidate for playing BG3, as a longtime D&D player who has come around on Forgotten Realms as a setting. However, while I looked at it for a while, I eventually lost interest for a couple of reasons. One is that apparently all the characters are WAY too eager to romance you which is like, a fun fantasy for 10 minutes but would probably annoy me in the long run. Another is that everyone who watched early reviews and kept abreast with the game told me that there was a clear favorite companion (Astarion) and that many of the characters had most of their interesting flaws sanded down (eg: Wyll was apparently much cockier originally; Shadowheart even more petulant; and as these are perhaps the two characters I was most intrigued by, reducing them to something blander destroyed much of the appeal). But perhaps the most interesting one is that as a boring goodie two shoes sort of person, my thought back when I was like "yeah, perhaps I will play this" was "oh, I do not want to have a murderous urge within me."

It became very apparent, through watching people play through and post on my dash, that if you didn't specifically play as the Dark Urge, and didn't specifically resist that urge, the story didn't really cohere. I have to admit, I know the premise of BG3 very well (tadpoles), and I know a lot of shipping trends (put a pin in that), and I know some of the more obvious points within it (Astarion is a vampire, Gale and Karlach both have bombs in their chests somehow, Shadowheart bleaches her hair) but I don't really have a great sense of the ending, and I did not avoid spoilers.

It feels like BG3 is designed for people who have one of those massive spreadsheets of D&D characters they haven't had a chance to play that are meticulously kept and thoroughly realized...and don't really leave room for modifying to fit the campaign you will actually be playing in. It feels like an OC sandbox simulator unless you do actually pick the choice the writers actually wrote for (Durge), and while it's not technically playersexual...it kinda is. I mean, I am a big fan of the trend in video games towards making it possible to romance anyone because it conjures up the idea of a world of high-powered bisexuals running around, which is very enjoyable for me, but the criticism of the Mary Sue archetype originally was never "how dare you fantasize about being cool." It was "wow, the characterizations are all warped beyond recognition solely so that everyone is in love with this character, and that makes for a dull and unsatisfying story." If you're everyone's type, and it's for romance and not just sheer lust, then either everyone around you is boring and wants the same thing, or you are sort of bland and inoffensive, or else the story is bashing characters together without a good basis for a compelling romance. This is also compounded by the fact that the companions can't get together with each other if you're playing your own character and not an Origins character.

None of this is to say it's bad to like BG3 and again, I didn't play it; but it is why I ultimately said "you know, given the effort involved to play it for me, a person without a gaming system, it's not worth it."

Veilguard has specifically intrigued me for going against a lot of this. You have a lot of choices in your character build, but they're all fairly thematically consistent: you did something within your faction that was well-intentioned but upset higher-ups and so you need to step away for a while. This establishes a personality for you! We know why you're part of a faction but also something of a free agent at the moment. We know why you're here and why you might be a good candidate for the current mission.

I'm not going to go into detail for the choices because while I'm not avoiding spoilers I don't want to spoil a relatively new game for others, but a lot of choices are fairly parallel, not in an "illusion of choice" way - they have consequences - but in terms of hitting similar themes. You can only save one city and both are places you have seen and places your companions have connections to; while the exact details may differ you are telling a consistent story.

I also think the fact that the companions can romance each other in your absence is important too! They exist even when you're not there. They are not just here to woo you, and indeed, they might be a better match for each other. I've been informed this is true in Inquisition as well, and I think it's a much more rich world if you, as the player, as the person who can ultimately decide the fates of your companions, aren't the center of their personal life. I also think it prevents the ability to sand down companions to be more agreeable to you as a player if you have to make an NPC/NPC romance compelling (and I will freely admit that, in a move that is not at all like me, I was pretty well sold by a potential in-game NPC/NPC romance, which is usually not the thing that gets me into works of fiction).

I'm not the right person to speak to the Inquisitor not being a significant character because I did not play DA:I, and I get that 'well, this is a new game with a new protagonist, as there has been for every Dragon Age game' is still not necessarily an adequate explanation. Nor is "hey, maybe it's good to attract new players" even though as someone who is highly attracted as a new player that is my opinion. However, I want to go back to the point about Resist Durge being the strongest option in BG3 in terms of story by a long shot. When I was trying to learn more, I said "ok, so just like how you're Tav in BG3 and Rook in Veilguard, you're Lavellan in Inquisition, right?" and was told that you are not - that's just the elvish Inquisitor option. Obviously this is anecdotal, but the fact that one option was far and away the most popular and thematically resonant is an indication that perhaps bringing forth the Inquisitor is carrying over some of the limitations of that game, whatever they may be. The true argument is "they are trying to tell a specific story here, and it is about a different POV than the one you previously had."

And that's really my point. I know I'm not an expert here - in fact I'm usually quite hesitant to write meta about things in which I'm not highly steeped, and very critical of those people who do - but I think an outsider perspective is useful here. The thing that is drawing me to video games is a new way to experience a fictional narrative (the other game I have been meaning to play - and even own on Steam- is Disco Elysium). That's not what everyone wants! But it is what I want. And so I want to be put into a developed, thoughtful narrative, and I don't mind if my choices are restricted in order to support it, and if I am playing a person I did not entirely choose. In tech, there is a saying of "make it easy to make the right choice (and hard to make the wrong one)" and so if you need your protagonist to hit certain beats, you should make that the required protagonist.

I think a story is stronger if your choices matter but if there is something of a foregone conclusion because it gives the writers thematic throughlines. This might sound a little silly given that this blog is largely dedicated to Actual Play but the thing is, most actual play does have, if not a foregone conclusion, at least a strongly intended conclusion of "work towards uncovering this mystery and achieving this goal", though the success of said goal is not guaranteed. I would argue that when a campaign lacks that, it tends to suffer in all aspects. RPG video games almost always have a foregone conclusion, but that's its own liability. In actual play, lacking a forgone conclusion means you spin off in any direction and it's anyone's guess if it's coherent. In an RPG, having this conclusion but not supporting it through the rest of the game will make it feel contrived. I feel a lot of Veilguard criticism is focusing on small contrivances early on that really mostly matter to a highly specific subset of potential players that prevent much larger and less forgiveable contrivances later on.

Anyway. Again, I am an outsider here, and I'm not here to say that it's bad to have a more open-world, sandboxy game with a self-insert-y OC type; but I have to be honest, I'd rather explore that in a true sandbox of fanfiction or original fiction, which is significantly cheaper and in which I can actually tell the entire story I want to tell. I don't want to be given more choices if a lot of them will be profoundly unsatisfying as a narrative. I don't want to cut through the world like a hot knife through butter. I want to be affected by it, and that's very hard to do with a character whose only trait is "self-insert whom everyone wants to fuck" or "guy that already carries the baggage of years of personal headcanons and highly variable choices that are hard to account for for every single person who ever played the previous game."

[omppupiiras]

why think about work stuff at work when you can think about one Jere Pöyhönen all day instead and get paid for it - so here's my rambly thoughts about what has been happening lately 🫡 but tl;dr: i'm not going anywhere

Firstly, it has been a bit tiring being a Käärijä fan lately, because it's been one thing after another. Being his fan has been such a fun experience for so long that it's a bit jarring how many times shit can hit the fan, so to speak. So I understand if it gets to be too much for people, and I think it's totally fair to take a step back from something if it no longer brings you joy. In fact that is a very healthy thing to do, haha.

But to me, he hasn't done anything terrible or unforgivable. My feelings have ranged from being annoyed to disappointed, but I was never really angry about any of it. I have vented a lot because he's definitely not above my criticism, but I only criticise him because I still care. I don't think he's suddenly changed or become a terrible person.

The way he went about OF was very disappointing to me, but I also always thought that he didn't make me pay for it, I chose to do that. I find it nasty how willing he was to ask for that much money for so little in return with 0 transparency, but now I definitely know better than to give him my money for his plain ass pics lol

And as for the nf/ts, I barely knew what those were before this whole mess and I'm not sure if I fully grasp it even now, but obviously I wish they wouldn't have messed with them. Not disclosing them with the raffle was a bad look for sure. They probably got sold a nice deal and they did it with all the best intentions, or maybe they didn't do enough research, or they just didn't care.. but I hope hope hope they heard enough criticism that they know better than to do it again.

I understand that some people don't like them doing paywalled content, but personally I would have happily paid for the euro-tour pass thing had it been on some other site. Jere made us very aware that the european tour last year wasn't profitable, so I think something like this COULD have been a cool thing to help them make money while giving fans who could pay for it some extra content. I doubt Käärijä would keep touring outside of Finland if they couldn't figure out how to make it profitable. Jere certainly didn't seem to think doing it for exposure made sense.

I'm not sure I have much to say about last night's drama, so to speak. At first him joking about having no money felt in bad taste to me, but after watching a video of it, I didn't think it was that serious. However I can see how him joking about having no money in front of his fans who have given him so much of theirs can come across icky, but humor is very subjective.

So yeah. I'm not going anywhere! but who knows, he could go drunk driving tomorrow and hit a puppy dog & I would drop him like a hot potato, but until that day... I'll be here for as long as he interests me as an artist and makes music I enjoy 💚

[sparrow-in-the-field]

I finished watching lady baseball show last night and I have a lot of thoughts!! Some of them controversial?? Perhaps lol. Let's see!

First and most importantly, I really enjoyed the show! Anything critical I say is said with love lol. Overall it was a good show!

I loveddddd Clance. Clance and Max's friendship was everything to me (probably a post of its own but straight/gay friendships hold such a special place in my heart). I love them, they were so so so good I want to protect them at all costs. Clance was so wonderfully witty, she was cracking me up the whole show.

I also adored Lupe and Jess. If it was up to me Lupe would have been the mc of the Peaches. She was such an interesting and complex character who exhibited growth throughout the season and I loved every scene with her. And she's hot but that's not the point.

Jess too! I would have loved more time with Jess, I also ate up all of her scenes. And she looks like a butch version of my wife so she was also hot but again not the point. I'm not saying for sure that some Jess/Lupe fics could be coming, but... I'm not not saying it either.

Alright my controversial (or maybe not idk) take: I wasn't a big fan of Carson/Greta...whoops. idk I just didn't think they had great chemistry, it felt like a lot of telling rather than showing. They were supposed to really like each other but a lot of their scenes together they kinda just seemed annoyed/mad at each other 😬 idk sorry to my fellow lesbians I have failed you.

My conspiracy theory is that if the show was supposed to be multiple seasons then Greta/Carson was never meant to be end game and it was actually Carson/Max end game but idk that's probably not realistic with the times but I mean. At least they seemed to actually like each other don't kill me lol

Another big reason why I think Greta/Carson doesn't work well is because their relationship isn't reflected in the game. A huge component of sports shows/films is the sport being a reflection of real life, especially the relationships of people involved (see for more: my obsession with tbitb coxstroke). Baseball is the perfect game for this because it has an incredibly important dynamic/relationship within the game: catcher and pitcher. It absolutely baffled me that they didn't have the main couple be the catcher and pitcher (cough Carson/Max, cough). And tbh? Maybe not romantically, but Carson and Lupe's dynamic was far more interesting to me than Greta and Carson, because I got to see how it matter on the field. Greta and Carson barely played off each other in the sport, it was mind boggling to me.

On a similar note, I loved whenever the show was focused around baseball. I feel like they kind of lost that in places, and whenever we'd get back to an actual game where we'd get to see them play I'd be like "man I love this!" What can I say, I love a good sports film!

Sometimes the pacing of the show felt off to me. Like certain plot points they'd squeeze in and resolve pretty quickly even if they felt like a big deal, while others felt drawn out longer than they needed to be. Idk, writing a first season of a show is probably hard so I get it, just something that bugged me in a "I see so much potential, it just needed a little more tweaking" way.

As a fan of the og movie too, it was cute to see the little nods they made to it throughout the show. I kept having to explain them to my wife cuz she hasn't seen it lol (like when they started singing in the last episode my wife was like "...what is happening" lmaoo)

I think those are my main points. Anyway I enjoyed it and I'm sad it's over. Mwah I love you lesbian baseball show, I wish you had lasted longer so I could find out if my conspiracy was right. The end.

[omegalomania]

everything is lit, except my serotonin

"what a time to be alive" is probably one of my favorite songs on the new record. that's not really a hard sell, though; i struggle to pick favorites at the best of times and by this time tomorrow, my favorite track will likely be a different one. but there's something about this track that i keep circling back to, for a multitude of reasons.

this one has proven a little contentious. critics don't quite get it, and even people who love the song will say that it's a little off-putting lyrically, primarily because of those lines in the chorus: "everything is lit, except my serotonin / everything is lit but my lightning-bolt brain". i'm not going to say outright that critics scoffing at the obvious earth, wind, and fire influence is one of those delightful instances of antiblack racism that's so common in music criticism, but i'd be lying if i said i didn't suspect that was a factor. but more to the point, that line in the chorus hit me a little harder than i expected it to.

patrick has stressed repeatedly that the majority of "what a time to be alive" was written before the pandemic. the lyrics to the bridge are the only parts that reference the pandemic specifically, but the rest of the song feels oddly prescient as it discusses how it feels like the end of the world...probably because in 2019, for some of us, especially those on the west coast, it did feel like the end of the world. pete wentz lives in los angeles, and thus probably got a very clear picture of this as it happened in real time. wildfires have always been an issue on the west coast, but by 2017, they started picking up in speed and scope, in large part due to the effects of climate change. the year after that, they got worse. the third year in a row this happened, it cemented that this was going to be a pattern, which is exactly what happened. today, the last third or so of the year is generally regarded as "fire season," when risk of wildfires becomes extremely high, power outages are common, and evacuations are anticipated.

i live in a fire zone. every year since 2017, i've had to evacuate my home regularly, or i know someone else who has. at this point, it's pretty well-established as routine. the first time this happened, it felt like the end of the world - watching neighbors' houses go up in smoke, housing displaced family members or friends who'd been evacuated themselves or actually lost their homes. by the time the pandemic happened, fire season hadn't actually died, either; we were carrying out evacuations while masked, and often without power (and thus no easy way to get news as to what was happening).

here's a thing about living in a fire zone. there are nights when you're going off no sleep and you're watching the ember-glow on the horizon at the early hours of the morning and thinking that it could almost be considered pretty, in a dark and dismal kind of way. there are days when the smoke haze is so heavy that you never get to see the sun but it makes the air hot and thick and it burns in your lungs. the smell of smoke becomes choking and omnipresent.

everything is lit, except my serotonin. everything is lit but my lightning-bolt brain.

i don't know if these lines were written about the wildfires in particular. it wouldn't surprise me if they were. there are a lot of moments in the song, the parts written pre-pandemic, that make me think that could've been the case: neon in the night-time and not caring if it's pretty because the view's so pretty from the deck of a sinking ship. livestreaming the apocalypse, because twitter feeds were literally the best way to get your news on whether your house might be next - if you had power and internet, that is. and not everyone did.

everything is lit but my lightning-bolt brain. it's kind of a silly line, and i understand being put off by it. it took me some time to warm to it too (pun absolutely intended). it's also a quadruple-entendre. everything is "lit" in the colloquial sense of being cool and exciting, sure, but it's also more or less how the human brain works. our brains are really just electricity, passing little bursts between all the neurons and synapses. on top of that, the sensation of feeling like electric shocks are passing through your skull, or "brain zaps," are a common symptom of withdrawal from antidepressants (which, among other things, are used to regulate someone's serotonin levels). and then there's the case of the world being on fire, literally. everything is lit except my serotonin. my lightning-bolt brain.

a memory:

i never actually stopped working through the pandemic, as i was considered an essential worker. the fires didn't let up either. a particularly horrible fire tore through a nearby area and that's the thing about fires: they turn the whole fucking sky vivid orange. i drove to work on a chilly autumn morning, the whole sky lit up in an orange glare. i stood for a minute in the freezing parking lot while flakes of ash overhead settled like snow onto my car, my hair, my clothes. somewhere, people's homes and livelihoods were burning, and in a matter of days or hours the wind could change and my home and friends could be next. so i walked through the falling ash and the sickly orange glow of the sky and did my temperature check at the door with my mask pulled up over the lower half of my face, and i got to work.

i remember that moment vividly because it was strange and surreal and eerie and it was probably the moment that felt most like the end of the world to me, or at least it did then. driving through town with the sky on fire and a disease tearing through the world and having to walk into work anyway. that's what this track reminds me of: the sheer, staggering surreality of watching everything fall apart, and then...you go to work, because what else are you supposed to do? you go to work. the world is ending. you go to work.

what a time to be alive.

[prince-koda]

Under the Weather

Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1105

CW: They/Them/Theirs used for reader, reader is on unspecified medication(s) for depressive traits, no physical descriptions of reader, avengers compound or bust.

AN: I have returned to bring another insanely self-indulgent post. I have been moving, still unemployed, and recently dealing with the physical effects of not taking care of myself while on medications which is no good. I'm also posted a little tip sheet with some of the things I try to do to help myself stay afloat when I'm feeling particularly down and unable to do anything.

Constructive criticism always appreciated.

Some days it feels impossible to get out of bed. With what felt like the weight of the world on their shoulders made their back ache and their stomach churn. The feeling of being a burden filled them with dread, terrified of losing everyone for being ‘too difficult’, ‘too distant’, ‘too hot and cold’.

Another night of restless sleep, hips hurting from all the tossing and turning. Left side, stomach, back, left side, right side; it never stopped. It wouldn’t be long before the familiar ache behind their eyes came back and made it hard to do anything without causing their head to pound. Too tired and nauseous to eat consistently only fed into the sad cycle.

The hole was getting deeper and harder to climb out of and it was frightening. Being tired and having a headache only works so well and for so long before it rings empty as a lazy attempt to avoid work and socializing.

They sat on their bed, attempting to push through the fog in their brain by rubbing their eyes and face. They needed to get up and at least go to the kitchen and get water so someone in the compound could see they were still alive, but even a short interaction made the task feel like a full blown mission.

2 knocks and a “hey” from the other side of the door was all it took to clear the fog. One deep breath and then they finally stood, pushing all they could into the back of their mind. The pit in their stomach was impossible to push away.

Once the door was opened, Bucky’s pretty eyes and low bun peaked in.

“How ya feeling? Any better?”  A small smile rested on his face as his eyes tried to subtly scope out the room, looking for any red flags. He had to make sure his paranoia was just that: paranoia.

“I didn’t sleep very well, but I feel a little better.” A partially truthful answer quietly slipped from their lips.

Bucky quietly hummed in response, pausing for a moment as he struggled to find his words. What neither party expected was for the door to open wider, ushering Bucky inside. Both hearts fluttered at the reality of finally seeing one another face to face. It was time for them to take baby steps.

“Sam was telling me about this movie, I don’t remember the name, but he texted it to me and I was thinking we could watch it together. I can get snacks and everything.” He offered as he stepped into the room, allowing him to continue his search for any clues; anything that could help him understand what to do.

Like he normally did, he took a seat at the desk in the corner, spinning the chair to face the entire room. It wasn’t his space; even after being invited plenty of times, he feared coming off as too comfortable. 

“I’m not sure I’m feeling good enough for a group thing.” Was the quiet response, hoping that would suffice. After closing the door, they shuffled slightly to sit at the end of the messy bed. 

“Oh.” He had noticed the room was the same. It looked the exact same way it did last time he was over. Nothing in the room seemed to have been used since then other than the bed. He figured they’d done nothing, but lay in bed. He clear his throat quietly. “I meant just you and me, but there’s no pressure. Sam had said it was something you’d probably like.” Another partially true statement. He slyly omitted the part that he had been the one to reach out to Sam about what was playing in theaters.

“It’s just-” A sigh followed by a short pause. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Finally, no more half truths.

“It feels like I just can’t… feel, I guess.”  They played with their hands in their lap, eyes downcast. “My meds are supposed to help, but there must be something wrong with me.” It wasn’t a secret they had their ups and downs, but Bucky had never experienced a down like this. Unreturned messages and calls happened sometimes, seemingly being asleep anytime someone came to their door and the secret, quiet sobs after they thought whoever was at the door left; those were new.

“How can I help?” After hesitating, he pushed the chair closer to the end of the bed, slightly shortening the distance between the two. Earnestly, all he wanted was to help. He’d set the world on fire to help.

They felt their throat tighten. It felt as though the second they opened their mouth, they’d sob. Instead, they chose to shrug.

“Do you want me to leave? I can head out and maybe drop off some food if you want.” He didn’t want to leave for even a second.

Shakily, but quickly they said “No.”  They tightened their grip on their hands, wringing them now. “I-” their voice cracked, “You make me feel better.”

Now Bucky was sure he was going to cry. Before he could find his word, they had finally stopped strangling their hands, quickly pressing the heels of their palms into their eyes for a moment, before finally looking at Bucky.

“I’m probably just tired from not sleeping very well.” They tried giving a chuckle, downplaying the days and days of not having the energy to do anything besides get up to use the restroom or grab some water from the bathroom tap.

“You take care of me when I don’t feel good, the least I can do is return the favor. We can call your doctor and-?” Bucky pushed forward in his chair again, his knees almost bumping into theirs.

“You don’t owe me anything Buck.” They scoffed, eyes falling again from his conviction.

“That’s not what I meant. I’d help you even if you punched me in the gut every day.” He knocked his knee against theirs. “Maybe I can con Sam to bring us some food and we can make fun of some low budget films.” Dipping his head for any eye contact.

When they peeked up, they gave a little nod. “I’d appreciate that.” Bumping Bucky back with their knee.

“Maybe some sandwiches? Plain enough to upset your stomach?” Bucky wasn’t unfamiliar with trying to eat after an extended period without food.

A soft smile, the first real one in what he felt like was centuries, graced their face.

“I really appreciate you, Bucky. Don’t tell Sammy, but you’re my favorite.”

“Like he doesn’t already know that.” Bucky smiles back.

Baby steps.

[savebatsartedition]

Whumptober 2024 Day 26:

Summary:

Davy feels guilty for not getting them a gig. Prompt: NIGHTMARES | Breakfast Table | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.”

Notes:

Yeah. I not-so-suddenly had an interesting Davy headcannon for how he gets the Monkees some of their gigs. (Tbh, this doesn’t feel all that out of the realm of cannon for this show, and I dunno how to feel about that lol.) This is about the TV characters only, which is probably pretty obvious from the plot and context but still, thought I should mention that. XD Content Warnings: All but directly stated (except for here, where it is) sexual and romantic contact in exchange for favors/jobs (and hesitancy about it), struggling to make ends meet when it comes to food and jobs, difficulties with eating, misplaced guilt, lies, almost crying Words: 2,844

(Fic also under the cut.)

This whole thing was an absolute nightmare.

Davy was sitting at their pathetic excuse of a breakfast table, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. (Not that he and the guys had much food anyway.) He hadn’t been able to woo the last girl into hiring them despite having gone much further than he should have been comfortable with for nothing in return, and he felt guilty for using food that was bought with money that he wasn’t even able to secure him and the guys more of. (The inside of her mouth hadn’t really been all that nutritious either.)

Worse, as he realized with a small start, this wasn’t even the first time he’d felt this way.

Ever since he had gotten to America (and, critically, ever since he'd been cut off from his rich family and their funds), he'd been struggling. Thankfully, Davy had always been good at making connections, especially with girls, and especially since the popularity of the Beatles had thrown the popularity of long-haired British boys like him up into the stratosphere. At first, he hadn’t really liked to use it to his advantage, but by the time he had realized that he had no money for rent, a pair of broken maracas as his sorry excuse for background music, and whatever was left in his suitcase after he’d left it out on the street for an hour too long, he’d had to throw his worries out the window.

At first, it had been pretty fun, groovy even. (Oh dear, if only the him he’d been back then had known how such thoughts would circle back around.)  But, as he had realized as the days had begun to drag on and on, for some reason, no matter how many girls let him sleep the night, none of them had ever seemed to want him to really live with them. Maybe these California girls were a bit more aware of the struggles of a musician than they would have been if they had lived elsewhere, maybe they were discouraged from something serious by their rich fathers (they always seemed to see the desperation in his eyes), maybe the girls themselves could tell he was trouble. …or maybe they had just wanted to use what was offered before throwing it away again.

It really hadn’t been that big of a deal. He had hardly run into the same girl more than twice, to be honest, he hadn’t known anyone at all. Not even a little, really.

Unless you counted his numerous ”dates“ as something more than a physical connection, that way, he might have known them. Maybe even very well. (He could almost hear his grandfather now, scolding Davy with a growl on his face, for following those horrible hippy kids.) If you did that, Davy would have been assumed to be absolutely rolling in funds from gifts for the sheer amount of friendships he had. 

The problem with that reading, as he had already known, being that those girls weren't exactly friends. Hell. Most of them were hardly acquaintances, and he had still agreed to woo them.

Because what other choice had he had?

Clearly, even with his uncanny ability to connect with girls (and, interestingly, the occasional guy), he'd been really struggling to make it. Really really struggling, if his actions hadn’t given all of the desperation away already. At least, he’d been struggling until he’d met them. Until he’d managed to wander his way into a practice session on the beach, and until he’d managed to weasel in way in with one of them.

From that moment on, he’d started to process what he had been missing.

He’d had lots of “dates” in his year or so in the “colony” (as his grandfather would have liked to call it), but only now, after finally managing to make three real friends, he was finally realizing how much he had missed connections. Real connections. Connections that were more than making eyes at parties and on beachfronts, connections that were more than sneaking into the movies with someone he didn’t know the last name of (but still spending the entire run of the film snogging), connections that were more than half meant promises and never seeing each other again. It was only now, that he was truly among a group of people who understood him, that it set in how seriously he had been struggling.

And, yeah, for a little while, it had been okay. The four of them, him, Peter, Mike, and Micky, had done pretty good off of their few party gigs, and besides the odd jobs they worked to make ends meet had been almost fun. (After all, Davy didn’t really mind taking care of horses, he’d quite liked his own, back in England, back when he could afford the expenses and the land.) For a while, they had met the rent payments, managed their other expenses fairly well, and even splurged a bit on new instruments from time to time. All in all, they had felt pretty well off. Hell, they’d lived in a multistory apartment near the sea, how much better could it get for a struggling band? 

Though, admittedly, it had been a far cry from the life that he had known back with his wealthy family back in Manchester, he had been happy. He was happy he had a safe place to stay that wasn’t some-girl’s bed while her parents were still asleep. Happy he had food to eat that wasn’t movie theater popcorn or roller rink pizza or part of an especially kind girl’s breakfast that she managed to smuggle up the stairs after it was all over. Happy that he had friends, and happy that they could play music together.

But, as all things did, things had started to go a little bit wrong.

None of them wanted quite to blame each other, but it had become increasingly obvious that things were slipping. Though Davy was pretty sure each man blamed themselves, Davy couldn’t help but see himself as the problem the most. After all, he had joined the band the most recently, and what did he have to offer to their sound? Four maracas? A tambourine? A singing voice that worked just as well as anybody else’s?

He knew he shouldn’t think it (he should focus on fixing it), but he did. This was his fault, he just knew it.

At first, not thinking about how he’d been living before all of this had begun (he still hadn’t quite told the guys exactly how he’d made it by before he’d met them), he’d tried just ramping up the other stuff. Offering to take care of horses for lower wages than the competitors, working shifts for newspaper boys who needed a break, putting even more into his playing in the few gigs that the struggling band could manage to get…

And that’s when he realized what the band needed.

Of course, it wasn’t exactly a shock of a realization or anything like that. In fact, it should have been pretty obvious from the start. They were musicians, they felt their best when they played (even if the groups on the street liked to spit and laugh as they practiced), and they got their money best when they could use their tunes to woo an audience. They needed gigs, and what better way to get gigs than wooing people into your sound and figure?

So, as Davy had reasoned with himself when he’d taken that first deep breath and begun it all over again, in a way, playing wasn’t so much different from dating. It made sense. To do well with the ladies, one had to be charismatic. To be a musician, at least one in a little rock group like his, one had to be even more so. In a way, a gig was no different than a date. You were selling yourself as the best person you could be, paying attention to the mood of the room, and following along with something that would make it better, more intimate, more likely to get you what you wanted, and, more importantly, more likely to get your chosen onlookers what they wanted.

Or so he told himself.

Of course, it wasn’t that Davy didn’t like going on dates. He did. Honestly, who didn’t? It was a good way to get on with the girls, and one of the best ways to look around the town, not to mention a good excuse to indulge in such treats as ice cream or movie theaters. (Without dates, it was unlikely Davy or the others would have the time or money to do either without feeling bad about it afterwards.)

Even back in England, where his family had had much more control over how he lived his life (how he cut his hair, who he spent his time with, what kinds of music lessons he would take), Davy had enjoyed a little jaunt with a pretty birdie from time to time. Who could blame him? He liked the girls, and he liked the company, and life would have been much less bearable without the connection that such things allowed him to make.

To make it through it, he told himself that this was for fun, that the fact that the rich girls he pursued just picked his band for their parties out of pure coincidence. That they listened with such glee because they liked the Monkee sound, and not because they liked him, and watching him sweat and gasp as he sang. 

Lord knew they liked that side of him when he wasn’t singing.

(Maybe it would have been more accurate if he told himself that such things were not exactly what he was after.)

Yeah, things got a little bit too transactional from time to time. (All the time.) Or maybe it didn’t. Davy swore he couldn’t tell the difference (he could), and if none of the other guys bugged him about it, so he wasn’t going to bring it up. They had been thankful for more gigs to play, and he had been right alongside his fellow Monkees in that sentiment. I mean, who doesn't like a little jam session from time to time? Especially if it put food on the table and kept the lights on when you needed to practice.

Until, as it always seemed to, things had gotten worse. Again. Lately, the gigs hadn't been coming. (And when gigs gained by taking girls out on the town didn’t pan out, it was an overall loss of money.)

Davy tried not to blame himself, he really did. He tried not to feel guilty for the thing that he knew was n̶o̶t̶ his fault, but it was a bit hard. After all, there was no way he wasn’t doing something wrong. When had the girls decided that an awkward night’s stay (and even worse family breakfast after the fact), was enough for all his troubles to court them? Sometimes, they wouldn’t even listen to him when he tried to bring up his band and their situation, they’d just reach over, kiss the words out of his throat, and watch as he floated away into something that wasn’t him. (Or at least, shouldn’t have been him.)

And damn if he had to admit it, but he was hungry. There were only so many nights you could go only tasting the flavor of some girl’s mouth on your tongue.

(And there was no way he was eating a piece of the band’s meager rations, not since his most recent attempt had ended in nothing more than her mouth on his, and hands reaching places that Davy tried to pretend that he had been completely alright with.)

“Hey Davy,” Peter was suddenly saying, “you look a little worried. Your plate is full.”

Davy looked up, pulled out of his trance as the images of his fellow bandmates swam into focus. Peter was midway through chewing a slice of buttered bread, Micky was taping his knife and fork on his (already cleared) plate as if they were already practicing, and Mike was choking down a cup of coffee like it was the only thing that was going to get him through the day. All of them were staring at him.

Davy brought his knees together, feeling suddenly very small.

What could he tell them?

Certainly not the truth.

“I’m fine,” he lied, aware that his fellow musicians were far too in tune with him to miss the imperfections in his perfect tone, “Just thinking about a date I want to go on,”

“You’re always thinking about those girls, aren’t you,” Micky said, almost casually. (Davy wished it was less obvious to him when his friends meant more with their words than they let on.)

“Oh you know me,” Davy joked, “Always falling in love at first sight, I’m still thinking about her…” he trailed off, putting on an expression of love that he knew was not the least bit convincing.

Mike raised one eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything (yet), simply finished off his coffee and placed the cup with a clink back onto the table. Davy looked back at him, trying to seem genuine in his puppy love for a girl that he did not know the name of (but curiously knew the way into the bedroom of). He didn’t want to talk about this, not now.

Davy looked down at his plate. There wasn’t a bite taken out of a single piece of food. His stomach rumbled and he tried to ignore it. He hadn’t done well enough. He didn’t deserve all this stuff, let someone else have it.

“I’m not really hungry,” he said, though it wasn’t true, “I think I’ll wait until tonight’s date to get myself something,” he moved to stand, but stopped when Mike reached out and grabbed his arm. 

“And I think you should take a break from all those dates, shotgun,” the guitarist said, narrowing his eyes, “I think you’re tiring yourself out,”

“Me!?” Davy protested, even though he’d missed nearly all of his nights for the past two weeks, “You must be joking! When have I seemed tired in any of our gigs recently?!”

Peter looked slightly confused. “We haven’t had any gigs recently, Davy,”

“Exactly,” Davy said, giving Peter finger guns across the table, “And I really think this girl could be interested in paying us for one if I take her out one more time. She’s got really good taste, intelligent and all that,”

Micky laid his silverware back down on the table, giving Davy a look that told the shorter man that he knew exactly what was up. (Though he laughed good naturedly anyway.) “I think you’re spending too much time with all those girls, Davy,” he said, “You should take a break, even think that maybe one of us wants a chance out of the town one of these nights?”

Davy didn’t really have anything to say to that, so he just shrugged. He felt bad shrugging, but he felt worse dragging any of them into this. This was his burden to bear, to be the one man force behind the advertising in the town, to be the one the girls thought of first when they thought of an attractive band to pull up on the stage for their birthday bash. It should have been no one else’s job, he couldn’t let it be.

“Yes,” Mike decided, waving Davy back to his seat, “We need our tamborine player to be well rested for our next big job, and-” he reached over to push Davy’s plate closer to him, “-we need him to eat up,”

Davy looked down at his plate. His stomach hurt almost as badly as his throat did. (Was he really going to cry? Now?) He wanted to eat so badly, but he told himself he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. It was all his fault that there was only so much to spare for breakfast, the others should have had his portion already. The others should have already pushed him away, blamed him already, sent him back out on the street so he could do the very thing he did now, without all the music attached.

“Come on Davy,” Micky was saying, “I need my percussion section, right?”

Davy felt the corners of his eyes sting slightly, and he hunched over his plate to hide the tears. This was all his fault, why couldn’t they see that? He deserved what he got, and if that was just the inside of some jane’s mouth, that was all he should have.

Still, he made himself eat.

Maybe they wouldn’t notice him slipping away later if he did this for them now. Maybe they wouldn’t notice this time, and he was sure of it, this time he’d even get them a job. He believed it. He had to believe it, because if he didn’t, it would have been all for nothing.

And he couldn’t have that.

[blamemma]

hey emma, wanted to thank you for continuing to be positive and upbeat even amongst all the craziness. 💙 the roller coaster of emotions ric nation has been riding this season is already hard enough without people losing their minds every other day. and i'm sorry people can't have common decency and think they can just harass others online from behind their screens. glad you felt okay to come back!

re your answer about max praising checo: i 100% agree. i was discussing it with my friend last night bc it seems so weird that he's not said a single negative or even remotely critical thing regarding checo the last few months, just a constant stream of praise. especially seeing as how, if checo was a better driver, he could have been contributing more to the wcc and even helping to boost max's lead in the wdc, and yet max has been busting his ass out there alone. my friend joked that max was on slim's payroll, too, but in the grand scheme of the seat drama, i feel like it's his way of not kicking the guy while he's down (on his way out of rbr). they were clearly gonna lose the lead in the wcc anyways, so what's the reason for taking checo's side here, other than trying to show a united front as a team (by putting on their matching clown noses) and maybe being told he's gotta hype the guy up so the let down doesn't hurt as much? anyways, sorry for yapping in your inbox, and thanks again for your posts!

💗✨🤭🫵🏼🎀☺️

do i think max likes money? yes. have u seen how much that man gets paid (deserved). do i think he'd rather a fast car and a better team mate than a wad of cash? most definitely.

i think ur united team front comment is so so important and something i don't think often enough about actually. beginning of this year was incredibly tumultuous for red bull to say the least, so being able to say we're one team, we're fixing this car together, probably keeps the internal team, but also the sponsors happy. however what's happening behind closed doors.....well. if they fall to 3rd in the constructors behind ferrari.....then they really need to have stern words with themselves.

and no one EVER apologise for yap in the inbox x x x

[phoenixriaartemis]

So umm little(not that little) post about the situation.I will try my best to not spoil.

Anyways as we all know(I sound stupid for saying that)in 5 days(that's quite short ._.)we have the event of Night Swan backstory to know about her like her name(even though most of us and I will risk to say all of us know her real name already if they didn't change it in the last minute but yeah no they wouldn't actually done that)and her whole story of how she fall down into the darkness with two new songs(this is one of the things that I know and I can't say)

This last part is what kinda frightening the fandom but not in the way that maybe her past will make us terrified more in the way of someone that can change the entire plotline but in a bad way...

Him...

The Traveler,coach from Rock your Body and Save your Tears which is a duet with another coach who is Si'ha Nova and this song it's their love story(I'm not gonna explain their whole love story but I recommend to watch littlesiha lore video about them)

This two coaches also have a son who is the main character in the story mode of Just Dance,Wanderlust

Now the whole issue:Since January I think it was?there was a theory going around that Wanderlust and the son of Night Swan Jack Rose might be related since the Just Dance team despise the ship between this two a lot(like literally there's some post about it)and it might be because of Traveler and Night Swan had a past relationship and Ta-Da!! Jack happens.There's also some kinds of aspects about it like Jack unknown father or Night Swan real name being base on a mythology(that one can be kind of debated)

There's point that made this theory more real,but also there are some points that made this whole theory(probably gonna happen)with not so many senses.Posts like @surr3al1sm and @halfratsalready have talk about it like one of them being the zero ressemblences of Jack and Traveler in their appearance to hint that they are father and son.

My take about this is more of a critic but also having a realistic point.I think that if they actually wanted to go down with this plot twist they should have atleast make some obvious connections(and I won't take it if they change Jack appearance to match Traveler once it's out the twist)or just straight up say it.I know that it will kill the "surprise" but with this kind of plot with already existence characters for one year and almost five months that wouldn't be good.If they did actually wanted to do it they could made a new character not using an already existing one(Side note:This part sound hypocrite from my part since I have in the sims Wanderlust and Sara as "siblings"to say more or less but since the moment I did it I thought to change it since I could see that I can kind of change but that would mean to delete the ones existence and put them again from the gallery something that it's not that bad even though they will lose something already gain but I wouldn't mind to do it)And if they wanted to do something with Traveler and Night Swan they could have taken the dating ,but not too far for Night Swan and Traveler to have Jack,and then something happens that connects to Night Swan failure and Traveler ended up with Si'ha AND Night Swan founding or already know someone that Traveler also know to be her partner and then BOOM Jack and father's gone.Also because the whole thing will be chaotic if they pull that because they are killing a wholesome lovestory,two ships,the lore of Traveler and Si'ha and Traveler(who is pretty like and love by most of the people in the community)whole character in just one map and I don't think that will be taken well

But to be realistic and knowing Ubisoft(and also because I don't have that much hope even though I want to)they're probably going to pull that but we will have to wait to find out...