#lot of logistics to be dealt with here

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

release!!!!!! the kiss cut!!!!!!!!

[linksthoughtbrambles]

HUMMMMMM

What about Links to Zelda’s point of view of pre relationship after calamity BOTW, where everybody and their brother (AND SISTER) is in love with Zelda and hits on her, she’s oblivious of course because, yknow super in love with Link.

Every place they travel to post calamity, poor links cheeks STAY clenched.

Thanks for the prompt, @raziasark! I have been very slow, so I decided to post this one in installments. This first one is about 1100 words. I hope you enjoy the beginning and I'll try to be less slow 😂

Thanks @newtsnaturethings for bouncing ideas back and forth with me!

---

The Princess Vibe

At first, Link didn’t notice. He had a lot to deal with, and he was disoriented. Who could blame him? He’d just shot a giant purple boar on magenta-fire with magical golden arrows which somehow emerged from his soul while riding Geranium (who had somehow materialized in Hyrule field despite Link knowing for a fact when he last left him, he was happily munching hay at Riverside Stable).

Zelda’s arms around him were even more disorienting.

“Thank you, Link. Thank you,” she said, over and over like someone still half-dreaming, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

He held her firm, but so, so careful—she deserved every ounce of support he had in him, but she was his Princess, half-remembered and half an ethereal vision from his life before. Was it real? Was she real? Did he love her? He thought he did, but nowhere in all those glimpses of his past life had he said or done anything about it.

He could be imagining things, especially if they were in the past.

His head could be coping with all that secondhand drama.

Past-him might’ve just been doing his duty.

Past-her might’ve expected him to do his duty, too, and that was it.

Now-her might be glad he finally finished his duty, but that’s all.

Zelda shook like a dry, crackling leaf against him.

Link stroked her hair without thinking. He winced, waiting for an objection, but she just kept thanking him. He swallowed the taste of malice-fire, acrid and sulfurous in his dry throat.

She was free for the first time in a hundred years. She deserved that freedom. He wouldn’t foist his own feelings on her.

Later, he found himself wishing everyone else would see it that way.

--

They arrived, filthy and exhausted, at Riverside Stable.

“Huh?!” Ember said, his mouth agape as they approached on the unmistakable giant horse. “When’d you take him out?”

“Snuck him out like a thief in the night, eh?!” Gotter said, squinting at Link. “Why didn’t you ask us like normal?”

Zelda’d been half-dozing against him in the saddle, but her head rose at that. “Indeed not. I teleported him.”

“You-“

“What?!”

“I apologize for any inconvenience,” she said.

They stared at her.

As Link dealt with Ember and the logistics of re-boarding the horse, Gotter seemed unable to stop staring at Zelda, who’d sunk onto a stool to rest.

“Eh- do you- teleport often?” the portly stablehand asked in a strange tone of voice.

“Only recently,” Zelda replied.

“O- oh. I see, so- eh-“ Gotter wrung his hands and took a step closer to her. “What kind of things have you- tried?”

“Only Link and that horse.”

“Oh! You can teleport people?!”

“Not anymore,” she said.

“Eh? Why not?”

“I suppose it must be due to my renewed corporeality.”

Gotter scratched his head with a befuddled squint.

Link finished exchanging rupees just in time to see Zelda listing sideways. He rushed over, thinking to scoop her up, but she hugged his leg instead.

“Thank you,” she said.

He blinked. “You’re welcome.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up to see a sort of intense vacancy on Gotter’s face, totally fixed on Zelda.

Link hadn’t planned on staying there overnight anyway, but it gave him the creeps. He whipped out the Sheikah Slate. “Ready?” He asked.

Her face turned up, her eyes glazed and smeared face pale. “For what?”

“Let’s get you somewhere to rest.”

“Oh! Oh, there are beds here!” Gotter said.

Zelda started pulling herself up with Link’s thigh as anchorage. He helped her. Gotter reached out a hand, then pulled it back with an odd little…

Giggle?

“Oh- you have it, haha,” Gotter said.

Link had enough of the weirdness. “Ready?” he asked again as her arms wrapped around his neck. At her nod, he reached around her shoulders and tapped the icon for the Myahm Agana Shrine.

He adored her little gasp by his ear as the blue energy shivered through them. It was lucky, really—he could pass his own shiver off as that, instead.

--

They spent days just recuperating.

Zelda slumped onto a seat at his table as soon as they walked in, but he didn’t let her stay there. He carried her to his bed, deposited her there, and took her sandals off for her—she was already asleep.

He wrapped the comforter around her, grabbed a bedroll, and laid it out on the floor beside her. (This, it turned out, was unwise, since she stepped directly on his bladder about two hours later when she awakened to empty her own).

That incident aside, they each slept the rest of the night and morning away. Link awakened to the gentle pat of Zelda’s fingers on his cheek, and he turned to find her hanging partway off the bed to reach him.

“Where do you get your drinking water?” she asked.

Link was up like a shot and trotting to the well around back for her. He drew three hot baths that day, too—two for Zelda and one for him.

Time passed in a complete haze while they got used to being rested, clean, fed, and safe again. Link kept startling with this sudden feeling he’d forgotten to do something important—a false sense of urgency, leftover signals rattling around his nervous system (except on that first day, after Zelda’s first bath, when he realized with horror the only women’s clothing he had was his vai outfit, and he would feel like a monumental ass if he offered her that, so he offered his typical day clothes instead and that was worse—the way she looked coming out of the bathhouse with his undershirt and—shorts?!).

“Oh, uh,” he'd said with a nervous tremor in his voice. “Yeah, so those are undershorts, the pants are-“

“Too tight, I’m afraid,” she’d said with a furious blush (Link felt awful for embarrassing her), “around my- ah- posterior.”

Link had started to sweat as he feverishly searched his brain for the meaning of the word “posterior," which he knew he knew when his internal monologue wasn't screaming.

“Perhaps,” she’d said, “you could spare those Sheikah tights instead? They ought to stretch.”

“Oh! Sure,” he’d said, extremely happy for the excuse to escape any potential revelation of his temporarily-depleted vocabulary.

He later had a small moment of enlightened panic when he realized how she must’ve known about his tights (“every step” of his journey? Every single one?!).

There were quite a few other small panic attacks involved in not looking at all, not one little bit, at how those tights fit her. Eyes up, straight out at all times, absolutely no looking anywhere below neck-level at Zelda. None.

But apart from those things, his jumpiness was nothing but leftovers.

At first.

---

[To be continued! Not sure how long this will be, but clearly a multi-installment fic!]

[eddiegettingshot]

Iirc I think I saw someone on here say that Chris’s actor’s family moved away, meaning it’s harder to film i assume, so there’s a chance him being gone this long is partly a case of real life helping to write the plot? There’s also the fact that I don’t think he was originally meant to be gone so long, or at least I don’t think the show meant to go this long without focusing on Eddie. The first 3 eps got taken up by the opener, then they had to use an ep to get Mara back and deal with Gerrard, and we did get the Weston subplot for Eddie there, then I assume they had to get a Halloween ep in there to fit in with the programming. So this might be as quickly as they could manage logistically too

i agree re: the logistics not helping but i also think that like, gavin doesn’t actually need to be on screen for chris to be home (he wasn’t around for a lot of s7) and his absence in general could be dealt with a lot better than it has been, if he actually has to be gone. like part of the frustration here is still the same issue with refusing to fully commit. ok chris is gone… so can they talk about why??? can it be treated with appropriate and consistent weight??? can we know what’s even going on besides. they zoom twice a week and chris still won’t talk to him?? 😭

[horsetailcurlers2]

addison montgomery fanfiction recs by pairing

(although i am *relatively* new to the greys fandom, once i finished season three i immediately obsessively scoured the internet for any addison montgomery centric fanfiction i could get my hands on. here are just a few of my favorite ones for each of my addison ships (of which there are many). this is by no means an exhaustive list. my qualifications for this are that i’m cool and have good taste and spend way too much time thinking about fictional people)

ADDEK:

-“The Climbing Way” by winter machine (this is actually probably one of my favorite fanfictions of all time, period. this author is just absolutely brilliant at capturing their dynamic and all of its complexities. the entire thing is actually from derek’s POV which i was surprised how much i enjoyed considering i can sometimes be a derek hater lol but it provides some really good insight into his character without being as forgiving as canon or as bash-y as some fics (if that makes any sort of sense?). it also combines two of my favorite addek tropes: “sad baby backstory” and “traumatic event forces them to actually confront their issues”. it is also a very captivating portrait of derek and mark’s realtionship and has lots and lots of flashbacks. big angst warning especially for the early chapters.)

-“Some Bright Morning” by winter machine (i just can’t get enough of this author. i love any addek fic that heavily features savvy and weiss bc i think they should have made more appearances in canon. or savvy should’ve at least lmao. weiss was kind of a dick. but i like him in this fic! this is a very very interesting AU because it takes place largely outiside of canon settings and features a lot of OCs. it also takes place around early season one so the mark wound is still very fresh. its set entirely on a small island in georgia during savvy’s mother’s funeral so there’s plenty of forced proximity and bed sharing. the original setting and cast of characters are really fleshed out and completely captivating. like, i would read a whole separate story just about this island and its inhabitants. also features lots of background on savvy and addison’s friendship. and plenty of angst of course. you may be sending a pattern with these recommendations)

-“do you think i have forgotten (about you)” by crime_wives (this one legitimately made me sob. like, my body produced actual tears. angsty one shot. not happy-addek. a perfect snapshot of their tragic ending)

- “Unhinged (AddisonandDerekandMark)” by RulerOfAllThatIsEvilChiFlowers (very dark. very twisty. somewhat non linear.)

- “This Hurt Can Teach Us Both” by darlingwrecks (oh my lord this one is so so addek- bittersweet, sexy, nostalgic, painful and delightful all at once. my favorite thing about this writer is the way they write backstory, especially for the Med School Trio. this is also kind of fun because we never got to see how these two dealt with their post divorce logistics. derek was just kind of like “take all the property and fuck off” which is not at all how these things work lol)

MEDDISON:

- “lately she’s undressing for revenge” by emilyprentits (only read this if you want to be driven to tear your own hair out by the emotions this will make you feel. this is one of the fics that fully convinced me to ship meddison. so so so good and it’s like it was written from inside of meredith’s actual brain)

-“i’ll show you every version of yourself tonight” by withpeopleinperson (two words: stripper addison. read it. be forewarned it’s only one chapter and has not been updated in a few years but it’s a GREAT chapter regardless)

-“the seven stages of intoxication” by theprincessdiarist (meredith grey doling out meredith grey levels of emotional dysfunction. featuring loads and loads of delightfully frustrating mutual pining)

-“Sex and Caring in Seattle” by Bluefall (meredith once again having totally normal and regular feeling about her ex boyfriend’s wife. i love this one because they are both just kind of bisexual disasters and derek is just Also There. i love the way this author perfectly captures meredith’s perpetual inability to navigate her own emotions)

*EDIT: i also realized i forgot to add that these last two were recommended to me by @crime-wives !!!

-“open the floodgates up” by SugarsweetRomantic (this has EVERYTHING you could want in a meddison fic: mutual hurt/comfort, bed sharing, friends to lovers, these two being absolute dumbasses about each other. had me crying and also kicking my feet. genuinely)

MADDISON:

-“Make This Go On Forever” by darlingwrecks (i am so in love with this universe. i usually don’t gravitate toward kid/family centric fics but this one is so so much more than that. it’s maddison, if those two had made a real go of things, stayed in new york, and kept the pregnancy. there’s even some background merder eventually (which is not usually my jam but i like in this context). very very fluffy at times, a bit angsty at others, super in character but iirc i think this was written pretty early on in the show so addison and mark’s backgrounds may be a smidge different than in canon. this is the link to the rewritten version (i think?) on ao3. the author had the original up on live journal back in the day and i could have SWORN i read a sequel that i found a link to in the depths of their LJ but i cannot find it anywhere rn)

-“When I Grow Up” by winter machine (another maddison-if-they’d-stayed-in-new-york-and-addison-kept-the-pregnancy, but with a twist that brings them to seattle to see derek, who they haven’t spoken to in seven years. a fantastic plot but also sort of just a brilliant exploration of how mark and addison would be as parents given their own childhoods and how they have pretty much been cut off from the one healthy(ish) family dynamic that either of them have experienced. there’s also background merder in this one and it actually kind of made me like merder which is a major feat)

-“Celery” by winter machine (a fun little one shot featuring Derek Being An Idiot, Drunk Addison, and Mark Crossing Boundaries. a little bit sad and a little bit funny. again, everything by this author is just great)

JADDISON:

- “A Certain Slant of Light” by darlingwrecks (this is for those of us that were weirded out by addison’s convo with amelia in season 18. a more fleshed out exploration of addison’s mental health during the pandemic. it’s a very raw and honest portrayal of depression and anxiety and how someone like addison would navigate it while being a doctor in a global pandemic and raising an 8 year old. it’s not nearly as bleak as it sounds though. lots of fluff, a little smut. also touches on how addison might’ve grieved mark and derek. and archer makes some appearances which i loved (i know he’s an asshole but i really like addison’s brother lol))

-“Diamonds in the Sky” by Ziaaaaa_sdc (there’s so few jaddison fics out there, probably because of how compressed their relationship timeline was as they tried to wrap up the show, but this writer has several and they’re all so good. there definitely aren’t enough fun AUs for them so i was really excited when i first found this. its Ballet School Jaddison and there’s actually only three chapters atm. no idea if it will be updated ever again but it’s still more than worth a read. a smidge angsty so far. also seems to be setting up a little enemies to lovers arc)

CADDISON:

-“Help Me (With The Butterflies)” by BlackRoseMatron (a very sweet one shot. this author is single-handedly keeping the caddison shippers fed and i love it. they also have some really great meddison stuff)

[possibilistfanfiction]

conservationist au already!? you write so fast dang (what are your secrets) (also it's okay if you want to keep them secret) (mostly i am excite for frog)

here she is! frog au! lol [ao3]

//

to see us blossom (while the green spreads like wings)

//

only our feet have been here, that i'm aware of. it's wild and remote and beautiful as can be. i just want to be quiet and love it. let it sink in. i'll be leaving the planet, sometime. and i'll miss it.

— dr. bruce means

//

'dr. silva,' diego bursts into your office, his hair fluffed and messy, 'i found someone for the expedition!'

'did you... run here?'

'yeah, from the lab.' he gulps a breath. 'i got excited.'

it's fucking awesome that diego, your favorite grad student, is coming on this expedition, but it's becoming a huge pain in the ass to plan — you try your hardest not to feel guilty about why, but it is mostly because of you — and is starting to feel more and more impossible by the day. you don't want to get your hopes up: you don't have that much funding, and it's starting to seem a little bit impossible logistically, even with dr. superion's help. but you'll humor him: 'so who are we taking with us?'

he waits a breath, practically bursting at the seams. 'beatrice zhang.'

'the photographer?'

'she's an experienced climber! you follow her on instagram, right?'

you have gratuitously followed beatrice zhang on instagram for the last four years — for her photography, because it is some of the most beautiful and thoughtful you've ever seen, regardless of the subject matter, but also for the occasional photo of herself, surfing or climbing or behind the camera, particularly delightful if it features her arms in a tank — but diego doesn't need to know that part. 'yes, her work is wonderful for lots of conservationist efforts.' diplomatic, you think, mentally patting yourself on the back.

'and she's hot.'

'i didn't say that.'

diego rolls his eyes.

'anyway, how would we even get her to come with us?'

diego grins. 'i emailed her.'

'what?'

he takes out his phone and shows you her instagram, which, indeed, does have an ‘email’ button, which, obviously, you've never paid attention to before. 'she hasn't responded yet, or her team or whatever, i guess, but i only sent it ten minutes ago. and it went to a legit address and hasn't bounced back, so, i just figured, why not?'

even though, last year, you had had a successful time in guyana, finding and recording a few new species, there are a lot of why not's, really: your GA probably shouldn’t be making these choices without consulting you first, but you don’t really care about that so much as your mobility is more limited than ever lately. the weather probably won't hold so who the fuck knows if it'll even be possible to reach to spot at all. and, plus, it's for a frog. one tiny frog, that may or may not exist — (you're sure it does) — in the middle of a jungle on the top of a tepui that's never been climbed. it's... a little crazy, when you think through it now, way crazier than it had seemed when you wrote the grant for funding last year. most people, even world renowned war-turned-wildlife photographers with insane biceps — especially them, probably — aren't interested in a project like this.

'well, the least that will happen is she doesn't respond,' you figure; you don't believe in any religion and life had dealt you quite the shitty hand for a long time, so if there's any balancing it out, maybe this will be a strike in the good column for you. so, 'yeah, you're right. why not?'

/

it's two days later when your phone vibrates about seven times; you roll over in... some girl's bed? okay, solid night, then, and when you look over at her, she's beautiful and fast asleep. you remember your fifth shot of tequila and vaguely how great riding her dick had been; you find your phone graciously plugged into a charger on the nightstand on your side of the bed, and when you go to the bathroom you see condoms in the small trash can — so, all in all, a success. your back is sore but not terrible and you groan when you see it's only six am, but there's texts from diego and you have a policy not to ignore those, no matter how stupid they occasionally can be.

these are unequivocally not stupid, though, because they start with dr. silva! and then ava!!!!! ava! and devolve into some emojis and then omg oh my god and finally check your email, which is really the only helpful part of that — but they're not stupid because when you do check your email, you see a forwarded message from diego first. it's a cordial reply to the email he had sent to beatrice zhang, from her, it seems, asking politely to be put in touch with the lead biologist on the expedition if possible. which, you remember with the tiniest bit of a happy jolt, is you. you open the newest email, which is, in fact, connecting you and beatrice. she’s already responded, and it’s kind of wild because, from the three short sentences asking if you could set up a video chat to talk more about the expedition or, if she happened to be close to where you were in the world, even meet near your office or lab for coffee, she sounds, well, at least interested. you don't think someone like her — someone who has photographed war, and famine, and wildfires, and, miraculously last year, a snow leopard and her cub — would even respond to something she didn't care at all about.

holy shit, you text diego. you need a cup of coffee, or, like, maybe three cups of coffee, and a breakfast sandwich before you can respond to that email, so you decide to get a move on. plus, it feels unhinged to respond to it from your phone, so you need to go home anyway. you should also maybe definitely shower, you think, as you look at yourself in the mirror: your makeup is a little smudged and your hair is an unrepentant mess. still hot though, you think when you quietly find your clothes and put your bra on, a deep teal that makes your boobs look awesome. thankfully, you were just in high-waisted, loose jeans and a cropped sweater last night, so after you wash your face and get dressed, it's not really giving walk of shame — walk of pride, thank you very much.

you google maps where you are and, thankfully, it's a nice enough morning and a short enough distance that you can walk to your favorite cafe and then to your apartment without having to call an uber. you grab your cane from where you'd left it propped up by the wall near the bed, and then, because you're definitely not an asshole, gently shake your, well, one night stand's shoulder. her eyes are green, and you do remember that much.

'i gotta go do some work, sorry.'

she nods. 'right. doctor.'

well, maybe you're a little bit of an asshole, but it's not your fault that people think you're a very important neurosurgeon or something. you are very important in cataloguing biodiversity, so you just roll with it. 'thanks for a great time.'

she nods with a soft smile, and it's nice to kiss her, gently, goodbye.

/

'wait, you're meeting with her? here?'

'yes,' you say, mostly annoyed at camila's vaguely unhinged energy. 'she's close by train, so it's better to meet in person.'

'oh my god,' camila says. she's one of your best friends and probably the smartest, most tech-savvy person you know. when you figured out how helpful it would be to have someone operate drones for you on this expedition, you hadn't even bothered to ask anyone else.

'don't you know her?'

'well, sure,' camila confirms. 'i did some drone work for her a few months ago in the bahamas when she was photographing sharks. but, like, she's amazing, ava.'

'well, hopefully she'll say yes.'

'you'll have to charm her.'

'i'm very good at charming hot women.'

camila rolls her eyes.

'i'm also very good at charming people to go find frogs with me.'

she waits for a beat and then relents. 'well, i suppose that's true.'

'come on,' you say, 'help me make a slide deck. i feel like she'd think that's sexy or something.'

'you're ridiculous.'

'it'll work, i'm telling you.'

/

beatrice zhang in soft wool pants and closed-toed birkenstocks and a crewneck sweater sitting ramrod straight at the decent cafe just off campus near your office is, quite honestly, not a sight you'd ever expected to see, but it is kind of a miracle. or, at least that's what it had felt like, when she had emailed that she was, actually, a few hours away by train and wouldn't mind a day trip to meet in person. you're glad that you wore your best professor outfit today, flared navy slacks that make your ass look divine, and a crisp white button up that you tucked in tight and rolled up at the sleeves, a camel peacoat and expensive loafers that dr. salvius had gotten you when you passed your dissertation two years ago. you usually wear... well, not this — you reserve this for conferences and presentations — but, if looking professional helps beatrice sign onto this project, so be it.

and, well, maybe it's not strictly professional to undo another button as you had walked to the cafe, and, like, you don't actually know if beatrice is gay or not, but you spot her and smile and wave and her eyes get big for a moment, and you’re afraid you’ve got it all wrong: you’re small and young and pretty and, sometimes, people think that disqualifies you from being smart. but then her eyes rake over you and linger, for just a moment, on your chest, so you're probably right. if this helps too, so be it.

you wave and she stands very formally; she clearly recognizes you, which makes you feel a small thrill of satisfaction. 'hey, glad you found it okay.'

'i've had much more difficult locations to navigate before, although the freshman can be a bit scary.'

it's deadpan, so it takes you a split second, but then you laugh and offer your hand. 'i'm dr. silva.' you want to roll your eyes at your title, which you normally feel quite proud of, all of a sudden. 'ava, any pronouns.'

'dr. silva,' she says anyway, and shakes your hand firmly. 'it's a pleasure. i'm beatrice, she/her.'

only after do you sit, a little sprawled, and prop your cane up on the table, does she sit too, and then looks down at the menu. 'do you recommend anything? i haven't had lunch yet.'

'well, if you're like, uh... —' falling prey to diet culture, you think, but you don't know beatrice at all, so — 'wanting a vegetable forward option, their salads and quinoa bowls are okay.'

she wrinkles her nose. you hide a smile in the collar of your coat.

'but their kimchi fried chicken sandwich is my favorite.'

'and the slaw?'

'well, i'm a fries girl.'

she smiles over the top of her menu, just slightly.

'but my friend likes the slaw, and i trust her.'

she nods and sets her menu down, her wrists resting on the edge of the table, her hands clasped. a practical smart watch, no wedding band. her full attention is on you and it makes you feel a little breathless.

you're saved from saying something incredibly dumb — you're very, very smart, and you're actually very good at flirting, but beatrice zhang is hot as hell and a certified badass and you also really want her to be, like, your colleague — when your server comes to your table. you both order, and you get the fried chicken sandwich too, even though you already ate lunch an hour ago — diego's always happy to eat your leftovers out of the fridge in the lab anyway.

you're not saved from saying something marginally dumb, though, because beatrice kindly thanks your server and hands over her menu and then looks at you again, fully focused.

'i like your hair,’ you say, instead of, well, anything else. you want to groan and slam your head down into the table, or something, because beatrice's brows knit together and she brings one hand to run through her floppy middle part, short in the back and on the sides, pushing it out of her eyes.

'oh,' she says, softly and definitely confused. 'thank you.'

you're sure you're blushing. 'sorry, i just, like, the last time you posted — you had long hair.'

it's mortifying, the moment you say it, because you can mentally calculate the last time beatrice posted a picture of herself on her instagram, and it was definitely over a year ago.

she also seems to realize this, because her confusion turns to a smug little smile that could probably eat you alive. you'd definitely let it.

'i read about the last species of frog you discovered, when the article came out.'

that was also over a year ago, and you laugh, tension releasing from your shoulders. 'so that’s how you knew what i looked like.’

‘sure.’

to be fair, the article did include a picture of you, muddy and sweaty and overjoyed, holding a tiny frog in the palm of your hand, but, ‘did you google me?’

‘i only take on projects, at this point, that i find interesting.’

‘so you think i’m interesting.’

she raises a brow, a scar that also wasn’t there over a year ago running an inch above it and then straight through, cleanly healed but not faded yet, stopping right on the top of her cheek — thankfully your brain didn't comment on that, even though it's kind of hot too. ‘i think that fact that you've already identified six new species of frog two years into an assistant professorship is interesting.’

'so that's a yes.' you grin. ‘want me to tell you about the project, then?'

she thanks your server when he brings her water and your lemonade of the day, and a coffee, and then leans forward in her seat. ‘yes,' she says. 'i do.’

you tell her about it as coherently as you can: you're sure there's a brand new species of frog — maybe more than one, if you're lucky — on the top of a land mass deep in the forest in guyana. you've secured enough funding to make it happen; bare bones, but still. you have diego and yasmine, your grad students, and michael, another assistant professor in your apartment who's helped you on expeditions before, mostly by carrying a bunch of shit. you've gotten camila — who beatrice is also very excited to work with again — to sign on to do tech work for you. dr. superion and dr. salvius are helping from here.

'so, anyway, i need you to climb the tepui.'

beatrice sits back when you're done, flicks through a few slides on your laptop that you'd handed to her with pictures of the jungle, the cliff face, the budget outlines and logistics and equipment you anticipate you'll need.

'do you know a lot about climbing?'

it's kind — to not assume that you don't; to not expect you to either. you shake your head no.

'i'm an alpinist, for the most part,' she says, 'which means that i climb, well —' she pauses.

'no need to be modest for me.'

she offers a small smile. 'i've climbed eight of the ten tallest mountains in the world.'

hot, you think, but you take a deep breath instead and say, 'that's impressive.' nailed it.

'yes, well.' she blushes. 'thank you. but this kind of climbing is traditional climbing — big wall climbing.'

'oh.' you frown. 'so, you can't do it?'

'i can,' she says, 'and i'd like to. i think i know enough of biology to be marginally helpful, and i can certainly photograph the expedition.'

your heart soars, warming your whole body, and you take a bite of your lukewarm sandwich to hide your smile.

'but i'll need a team. i'm confident that i'll be able to get up the wall, but i'm not experienced enough at this kind of climbing to lead on all of these passes.'

'we might not have the funds to pay much, if you bring on more people.'

she shakes her head. 'i have access to plenty of discretionary funds, so that shouldn't be a problem.'

'that's hot.' well, you tried.

she laughs, thank god. 'i just wanted to make sure that you and your team are okay with me bringing other people on.'

'as long as they aren't, like, shitty, you know. racist, homophobic, ableist. all that stuff.'

she nods, very seriously. 'i can assure you that, while one of my climbing partners is inclined to be an asshole, it's always done with respect toward important identities. she's more annoying than anything. and my other partner is the best person i know.'

'well, other than me, now.'

you can tell beatrice is torn between smiling and rolling her eyes; she does a bit of both. 'and, as far as logistics go, i could easily provide a helicopter to get us in as far as possible. less of a hike.'

it's impossible that beatrice didn't see your cane. 'i have adaptive equipment for myself. i can do the hike.'

but her brows knit together. 'yes, i assumed so: you're leading the expedition. i just meant, for my team at least, the fewer miles we have to bring photography and climbing gear in a jungle, the better. it's heavy, and then we have to do a major climb.'

'oh.' you bite your bottom lip. 'that makes sense. sorry, people suck sometimes.'

'i imagine so.' she looks at you very sincerely. 'i'm sorry.'

you wave her off. 'thanks. it is what it is, though.'

beatrice doesn't try to argue, although you can tell that maybe she wants to. 'anyway, whatever you think will help your team, and whatever will help mine, that falls outside of your grant funds, i can cover.'

'that's — are you sure?'

she nods. 'quite.'

'where did you get these discretionary funds?' you can't help asking.

'a bad man,' she says, leaning forward and whispering dramatically. it makes you laugh.

'ooh, did you kill him? warlord?'

'alas, no. my father, and he's already dead.'

'ah.' you snap your fingers. 'well, if another opportunity comes up, you just let me know. i have tons of lethal neurotoxins in my lab. i'm always down to... you know — murder —' you whisper — 'a billionaire. long haul ethics, you know?'

she nods very solemnly, fighting a smile. 'i'll keep that under advisement.'

you fight the urge to ask her for a drink, and you definitely stare at her mouth a little too long, but then you get it together and offer your hand. 'well, partners?'

she shakes it, hers strong and rough with callouses. the thought sends a little shiver up your spine, but you valiantly ignore it. 'partners.'

/

beatrice invites you, after a few days of emailing back and forth to create an updated budget and logistics plan, to meet at a climbing gym. it's to meet her other two team members first. before you all get together with your main crew for dinner afterward. she'd given you their names, headshots, and very formal bios, which you had kind of loved: lilith, who, according to beatrice's bio, will be the lead climber. when you google her, you find out that she's, like, a world champion big wall climber, so that bodes well. and then mary, another photographer and world class marksman — I know this isn't particularly relevant, beatrice had included as a footnote, but it is quite impressive — and avid climber too.

you're hopeful about it all, and you're hopeful that tonight maybe she just wants to see you alone, and to have you watch her climb. there's, like, a two percent chance you'll physically be able to climb, really, but that's fine. she'd texted you about it, far less formal than her perfectly punctuated emails, so that's a good sign. and she'd posted a recent picture someone took of her — a candid, petting the trunk of an elephant peacefully — on her instagram too. maybe that was scheduled — beatrice seems like the kind of person who would schedule instagram posts — but a girl can hope, you know? you liked it one hour and fourteen minutes after she posted, from the lab's social media account and not your personal one, so you figure you've handled this all perfectly. you're great, beatrice is a colleague, and you've got this.

you're stressed about what to wear to a climbing gym and then to get dinner afterward, although there's probably a locker room or something, but it's fine. you're hot in anything. (or nothing. not that the night is going to go there.) you settle on tight leggings you wear to the gym and a sports bra, a cropped jacket on over. it's, like, cute and femme, but also practical. you brush on some mascara and put part of your hair into a little bun so it won't fall into your eyes, and you pack a spare change of clothes in a canvas tote — slacks and a nice bra and a t-shirt that hugs your body perfectly along with a pair of platform converse and an army-green overshirt — in case everyone else changes before going to dinner.

you grab your cane and head out the door.

/

if you fall to your death, it's definitely not going to be because of your back or legs. it's going to be because beatrice is in loose pants that seem comfortable for climbing and a tight racerback tank, and when you walk in, she's hanging by one arm on a short wall, just chilling out there, before she seems to decide what she wants to do. she brings her legs up to find footholds and then she's almost upside down, holding onto the wall with both hands calmly and moving so fluidly — a leg stretching out, her chalked fingers grasping onto a tiny hold. there's a delicate tattoo along her right forearm, all linework, and there are scars all over her left shoulder, running down to her elbow from what you can see: some are jagged and some are clean, neat, like surgical incisions. they don't seem to be limiting her progress at all, because she moves over the outhanging ledge easily and then to the top before just letting go and calmly rolling to her feet after she lands without a sound.

the — very hot — woman, lilith, you know from the headshot, sitting on the floor next to the wall, legs outstretched, leaning back on her palms set flat on the ground behind, and looking impossibly graceful while doing it, groans.

'getting stuck that long on a soft V8? come on, beatrice.'

beatrice, to her credit, just shrugs.

'shoulder?' the other woman asks.

'it's fine,' beatrice says. 'just getting back into the groove of your tiny walls.'

'oh, ha ha.'

'8091 meters will really change your perspective. you should try it sometime.'

'no thanks, i'll stick to my world records, thank you very much.'

they seem like they might physically fight, but then they both start laughing. weird, but you fuck with it.

beatrice turns, her hands on her hips, and, like, whew, god fucking bless, and then waves with a smile when she sees you. she walks over. 'hello ava.'

'hey,' you say, suddenly feeling a little awkward: you have not a single idea what you're doing. 'that was pretty impressive.'

'it was not,' the lilith says.

beatrice heads toward her anyway, and you follow. 'you can ignore her most of the time,' she says. 'dr. silva, this is lilith. lilith, dr. silva.'

'just ava.' you look at beatrice with a raised brow. 'please.'

lilith lazily salutes. 'ava, then. our illustrious leader, i hear. beatrice is making me lead a 1000 foot first ascent for a frog?'

'i'm not making you do anything,' beatrice says, and lilith grumbles like a teenager. it's funny, and you decide that you like her then and there, even if she scares you a little. she scares you a little more when she gracefully gets to her feet. she's tall and imposing, with a sharp face and long hair braided back, more wiry than beatrice's bigger muscles, but — you're sure — just as strong.

she offers her hand, which you shake. 'in my defense,' you say, 'it is a very cool frog. we can even name it after you, if you want.'

this seems to amuse her, because there's a hint of a smile on her face.  'i do like first ascents anyway.'

'see,' you say, 'that's the spirit.'

'ava,' beatrice says, 'no pressure, but i thought you might find it fun to try climbing. only if you'd like.'

'i'm, uh —' you gesture a little clumsily with your cane, the tips of your ears turning red. 'not sure that i can?'

'mary is an adaptive climbing instructor,' beatrice says, gesturing over to the taller wall with ropes connected through pulleys at the top, where a strong Black woman with perfectly neat braids and a dark outfit on is sorting through a few harnesses on the ground. 'but if you'd rather not climb, lilith and i are just finishing up. we can show you a few things we've been practicing in anticipation for the route, and then change and go to dinner.'

beatrice doesn't say either choice with any more or less merit, or worth, or importance: they're choices, and they're yours, and they won't affect how much she trusts you or believes in the expedition. lilith is checking her phone, uninterested at this point, and you decide, as you always have, to try.

'yeah, sure. i have no idea what adaptive climbing is, though.'

beatrice smiles and lilith stays on her phone, texting. 'that's fine. i have no idea about ninety percent of what you study.'

'i find that hard to believe. you're a wildlife photographer.'

she hums, softly touching your elbow and then walking toward mary. 'conservationist photography, sure. but i'm not a biologist.'

you make a note that beatrice doesn't really like wildlife photographer as a job title, although she was polite enough to not outright tell you so. 'well, i'm not a climber, so, quid pro quo?'

'ah, but you will be after tonight,' mary says, standing with a smile and offering her hand. 'dr. silva, right?'

'just ava,' you tell her, endeared by the fact that beatrice had probably been very formally saying dr. silva to her team this entire time. you shake mary's hand as firmly as you can and feel immediately a little more relaxed with the confident, easy way she holds her shoulders, her kind smile, her bright eyes.

'beatrice and i go way back,' she says. 'this project of yours sounds amazing. i was excited when she asked if i wanted in.'

'of course i'd ask,' beatrice says, bumping mary in the shoulder, who rolls her eyes fondly.

'well, beatrice said you were promised an adaptive climbing lesson.'

'if you're still in,' beatrice says, 'mary can show you the ropes.' she laughs at herself. 'literally.'

mary groans, but you're delighted. 'well, don't leave me hanging.'

'no. not another bad pun aficionado. please.'

beatrice grins and you sling an arm over her slightly sweaty and delightfully strong shoulders. she stiffens a little, and mary looks to her for a moment, and you're worried you've overstepped, and fast. but then beatrice relaxes.

you step back and gesture between the two of you happily. 'is this our thing now?'

'if trading terrible puns is wrong, then i don't want to be right.'

mary groans. 'not sure why i agreed to this trip after all.'

'we can name a frog after you, if you want,' you offer.

mary perks up. 'really?'

'yeah,' you say, 'sure. i've already named one after myself and given five others the dumbest, gayest names i could think of.'

'i'm back in, then.'

you laugh. 'well, let's rock and try not to roll.'

mary sighs, but beatrice's muffled laugh into your shoulder is way worth it.

/

Hi Ava, I'll be in town today to get some equipment squared away. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have dinner if you're free. No shop talk, unless you want

you read and reread the text. you'd gone over shitty — expected, but still shitty — test results from an mri at your neurologist's earlier today, and, even though your team seemed to gel the other night, and all of your logistics are much less daunting now that beatrice has covered some of them financially, you had planned to stay home in your favorite boxers and most comfortable hoodie and wallow with a mediocre bottle of wine and good pizza and great reality tv.

but — hey, that sounds sweet. any places in mind?

beatrice texts back almost immediately. I don't know the area too well. You can pick, if you'd like

like, you're colleagues. you're about to be in one of the most remote parts of the world together in five days, with just a handful of other people, for weeks, maybe longer. you're the leader of the expedition but beatrice is, in important ways, a leader too. she's smart and beautiful and handsome and focused. if it's a date, incredible; if it's not, you still want to know her, you still want to spend time in her gentle warmth.

any food allergies/hatred?

she responds, No, I'm pretty adventurous

still, no clarity, but you set a place and time — one of your favorite tapas restaurants with a great little bar and, if it gets late enough, a good dance floor — and then set about getting ready. you eat a banana and take ibuprofen, which hopefully will help you be able to dance without much pain, and then get as pretty as you deem not desperate for a normal dinner with a colleague to be. which, it's you, so you're still very, very pretty, including one of your very best cleavage tanks. you finish your eyeliner perfectly and blow yourself a little kiss in the mirror. for good luck, or whatever. it's science.

/

'i got tired of it,' beatrice says. 'war photography is...' she pauses, and shakes her head, like she doesn't quite know what to tell you. you're totally sure she's not telling the truth, not really, but you know not to push, to spook her away. 'i could leave,' she settles on. 'as much as i hate the west, as much as i hate american and european, especially british, foreign policy, and its destruction of the world — i got to take pictures, and leave. at first, i thought it was something important i could do, to record the truth. political inherently, anti-imperialist, without being in politics. but, i was in occupied palestine, and, then, after —' she clears her throat, brings her fingers up to ghost over the scar through her brow — 'after. i couldn't do it. they're wars because of my history — our collective history — but they weren't my wars. they aren’t my wars. i can’t photograph them, at least right now. because i got to leave.'

you're horrified that she might start to cry — which isn't horrifying, not at all, you cry all the time, but you're supposed to be having a nice meal with your colleague and you had asked what you thought was an innocuous question about how she got into her more recent conservationist work, but clearly, not innocuous. you're starting to think, with a kind of clarity you very rarely have about anyone, that nothing about beatrice herself is innocuous. even her collarless button down and loose pants cuffed at the ankles — and the way all of her clothes, ever practical, drape with a tailored casualness on her small, strong frame — her easy hair that’s always actually perfectly trimmed and styled, the pattern of callouses on her hands: everything about her is intentioned. she means what she says. she means what she does. she means who she is.

'i started studying frogs with my mom,' you offer. it's true, and you mean who you are too.

she takes a sip of her water and nods in what you can tell is a quiet relief.

'my family is from manaus. my mom wasn't a scientist or anything, she was a bank teller, but when i was little, we'd go out often. she loved the rainforest, so, you know, i loved the rainforest.'

beatrice smiles gently. 'that sounds beautiful.'

you stare down at a croqueta and tear a small piece of it off, let the old ache fill your chest. 'she died, when i was seven.'

'oh,' beatrice says, 'i —'

'— it was a long time ago,' you say.

'sometimes that doesn't make it hurt any less.'

it's permission, to feel how you need to. most people accept when you tell them that and move on in relief, unwilling or unable to give you the space. but beatrice sits steadily. 'i broke my back, during the car accident we were in; we were visiting spain and, well. i had to relearn to walk. it took a really long time, and the orphanage i grew up in wasn't big on good physical therapy or really any care, so i taught myself what i could outside of school, got into university, got good medical care for the first time, like, ever. and i started studying biology. i went back to the rainforest as soon as i could, as a research assistant, and guyana was ... it's mind-blowing, bea.'

she weighs it all in contemplative silence for a moment, trying to decide what you need; what relief she can give. ‘i can't wait to see. i've always wanted to go.'

it is relief, what you feel, to be so immediately seen and understood. 'well, it's not just anyone i'd want to bring to the rainforest. my mom's favorites were always frogs, so —' you shrug, suddenly a little at a loss.

'so here we are, about to go find another.'

you pop the croqueta into your mouth, feel the dull pain in your chest dissipate when you realize you're close enough to beatrice's face to see her freckles. 'i have spinal stenosis, from the accident. it's progressing pretty fast, even with the best medical team, tech, surgeries, all that.'

she nods, like she understands what you mean without making you have to say it. it's a gift, bigger than she probably knows.

'i really want to find that fucking frog.'

'well,' she says, and lifts her glass, 'to finding our frog.'

'you know, it's bad luck to toast with water.'

she frowns. 'i don't usually drink.'

'you're very... controlled.'

she waits a beat and then grins. 'okay, one beer.'

'fuck yeah!'

'one, ava.'

'mhm. whatever you say, bea.'

/

'i have to take the train back,' beatrice argues — or, at least, tries to argue, because her eyes drift down to your boobs when you take your sweater off. success.

'you can just stay at my place. i have a mediocre ikea couch.'

'i can't let you sleep on your own couch.'

you laugh. 'oh, you definitely get the couch. i need all the good mattress support i can get before i sleep in a tent for a month.'

she smiles, gently and a little sad, but then the moment passes, a kind of grace. 'fine.'

'really?'

the set of her shoulders is looser but still sure, still so, so certain. 'yes.'

'hell yeah!' she laughs. 'shots?'

beatrice pulls a face but you order lemon drops anyway, mostly because vodka seems neutral and they're a good shot for people who don't drink often, sweet and tangy and fun. beatrice sniffs hers first — bold move, big mistake most of the time — but then nods in approval.

'to our frog,' you say, and she clinks her glass with yours. you touch it to the bartop and she follows suit, and then take it as smoothly as you can. it's an easy drink, so you don't have any problems, and she swallows without too much of a grimace. 'okay?'

'it's not bad,' she says, and your whole body hums, probably because of the two margaritas you had with dinner and this shot now, but also because there are freckles stretching across her cheeks and gold flecks in her brown eyes and if you let yourself look closely a tiny split on her lip, probably from the dry, cool air recently.

you shake yourself out of... whatever that was, and you order two more shots; she takes hers without hesitation this time, laughing when you spill a little down your cheek. she reaches a hand and wipes with her strong hand, tender, over the corner of your mouth, down to your jaw, and then clears her throat, takes her hand back quickly, although you want to ask for her to stay. but instead, 'come on, bea,' you say, 'let's dance!'

she only groans in a show of protest for posterity, you're sure, because she's very strong and you're very small and when you tug on her wrists she follows you easily.

you love to dance; you have always loved to dance: what little you remember of your mom is full of green, the rainforest and the wall of your living room. she would push back all the furniture to the edges, just the two of you in a small apartment, where you slept in the same bed and ate fruit from the trees outside. she would put on britney spears and jump around with you; she would put on stevie nicks and hold you in her arms, swaying around. she was full of light, from what you remember, always ready to read to you, in portugese and in english; to help you with your math and your handwriting. she cut your food for you and bought you new shoes when yours wore through the soles. she had been a good mom in the way good moms are: happy to hold your hand, to rub her nose against yours, to let you eat the batter off the spoon. you don't remember much, not before the accident, but it had been easy, and beautiful — the mist and orchids and green, all around.

beatrice is a little stiff until you start jumping around, fully out of time with the music, just to make her laugh. and she does, a smile lighting up her whole face. her body is graceful like this too, like it's always somehow known exactly how to move. you wonder, fleetingly between songs, what she was like as a child, if she was as sure and smart and kind as she is now. someone crowds into her space from behind and then you're not thinking of anything other than the tickle of her hair against your cheek as she presses into you, the lilt of her laugh into your ear, the hard muscles of her shoulders and the soft, small swell of her hips when you bring your palms to rest there. you're drunk and she's beautiful, and you've kissed lots of beautiful people when you've been drunk. but she closes her eyes and sways to the beat and it's like the rest of the world falls away. it's like there's only you and beatrice and the cloud forest, above anything else that has harmed and will harm again. there's her gold skin and scars and tattoos hidden under her shirt, the healed slices down your spine, the air between your bodies: sweaty, sticky with spilled drinks, thumping bass, everyone else in this bar. there's only the two of you, and it's a little like you've been punched in the gut: you're falling in love with her. it's easy, right now, to put a name to it all, when you can look at her jaw without reproach.

she opens her eyes and looks at you, a smile on her face, and leans in your direction. it's easy, to bring your hand to touch where you had been staring, to say, 'bea,' as she laughs into your neck, says, 'this is so fun, thank you.' it's hard to not kiss her, but she's ... extraordinary, and you don't want your first kiss to be in the middle of a mid-at-best dance floor after a few shots. you want it to be somewhere beautiful. somewhere you already know; somewhere you're certain she'll love.

'let's go home,' you say, because you had done another round somewhere between songs and she's slightly unsteady on her feet. she nods into your neck and you take her hand.

/

you walk back to your apartment with her, one arm looped through hers — 'very gallant,' you'd said when she'd offered, and even in the dim light from the moon and streetlamps you had seen her blush — and your other hand using your cane. she had found it for you, tucked behind where you had been sitting at the bar; she hadn't asked anything about why you didn't use it when you were dancing, or why you need it now. you know so many good people and you organize a lot with some of your other friends who work with the disability center at the university, but there is some kind of a revelation about being seen so wholly.

but maybe you're also just a little drunk, because she sways a bit as you walk and her accent is lilting, tender, her hair messy in her eyes. it's probably as soft as it looks; you had lost your hair tie somewhere between shots two and three and you tuck yours behind your ear. you have so many questions you want to ask her but you hold them in because she looks up at the moon and the stars and it's enough, to be here with her. to know her laugh, now, and the way she has hurt too.

it's enough to just walk.

/

it hadn't actually taken too much convincing — after you unlocked the door and gave her some choices in pajamas, soft sleep shorts and a big cotton crew her eventual choices, and gotten her a glass of water and a few cheddar crackers — to get her to agree to sleep in your bed with you. perhaps it had been because your couch is ... an unknown number of years old — 'listen, bea, phd students make, like, no money, and it was twenty bucks on craigslist three years go' — or maybe, maybe, it's because she just wants to.

you settle in first, listen to her brush her teeth with a spare toothbrush you'd given her, and wash her face with your facewash — that she had frowned at, accidentally rude but pretty funny and, like, fair, you got it from the drug store on the corner and you're sure she has a whole understated fancy little routine when she's not out in the field — and then wash her hands after going to the bathroom. you love sex, so you sleep with people often. you've had a boyfriend before, that you cared about deeply, so there's some parts of intimacy that are familiar to you, of course. but this, beatrice carefully climbing into bed next to you, with her freckles and her eyelashes and the pink of her lips, is different: you're not going to kiss her, not right now. you're not going to reach out and put your palm on her jaw like you want to, or feel the warm skin of her ribs, the goosebumps that would inevitably rise there if you raked your nails across the ridges. you're not going to because, you know, somewhere elemental in you, that you want to know her, and love her, for a long time. you want to take her to the rainforest.

'where's your favorite place in the world?' you ask instead, whisper it into the dark, the soft outline of her face.

she's turned toward you, her hands tucked carefully under her chin; it makes her look younger. 'tibet. the himalayas.'

'makes sense. you and your big mountains.'

'what's the last mountain you... summited?'

'annapurna. it's the tenth tallest in the world.' she pauses, considering. 'are we playing twenty questions?'

her eyelids are drooping. 'i don't think you're going to be awake for twenty questions.'

she laughs softly. 'i want to ask you one, though.'

'hmm. sure. two to four questions, then.'

'do you... uh, well, okay. do you like women?'

it's so awkward, so out of place for someone so sure, that you have to fight the urge to burst out in laughter. but it's also soft, and nervous, her eyes wide. it makes you feel sixteen again, full of possibility. 'yeah, bea. i'm bi. i love women.'

she nods, tucks her hands even tighter under her chin, lets a big relieved breath out. 'cool.'

'yeah?'

'mhm. i'm a lesbian, if you didn't know.'

you want to say you're the gayest looking person i've ever met but you refrain. for the romance of it all. 'good to know.'

she tries hard to wink and fails miserably. you let yourself, just once, just for a moment, reach out and run your hand through her hair. she leans into your touch, relaxes under it, before you fold yourself back onto your side of the bed. 'you have one more question.'

'so do you.'

'okay. hmm. favorite ice cream flavor?'

she laughs. 'that's what you want to know.'

you nod. 'it's very important information.'

'okay.' she thinks hard about it, genuinely. 'mint chocolate chip?'

'that's so boring, jeez.'

'oh, i'm sorry. simple combinations of dynamic tastes is probably too sophisticated for you to understand.'

'okay, ratatouille.'

she tries, a valiant effort, to not crack a smile, but she eventually does. 'okay, my turn. favorite color?'

you let your eyes fall closed and imagine it all, the sharp thorns and the torrential rain and the chirp of the neon blue frog you'd found last time. you think about taking her there. 'green, of course,' you tell her, a promise, a future in the clouds. 'green.'

[seeyouafter]

SYA Extended Notes Ch. 43

Notes for "See You After" Chapter 43: Recent News Articles: July 11-31

Wow, it's been a hot minute since I've done an actual "extended notes" post as opposed to just an update announcement. The main reason is that life has been busy but also, I want the story to speak for itself when it comes to Shouto's relationships with Katsuki and with his family. I might post some thoughts after Part II ends but I did want to add some commentary on the news articles in this chapter.

Honestly, writing/editing these articles gave me flashbacks to 2020 in regards to the uncertainty of school closures, as well as the amplified urgency of various social issues.

I have a lot of seemingly random articles in my draft document that will be inserted in future chapters, but I chose to include these here because they fit with the theme of bridging the gap between regular citizens and hero society. (reminder: the title of Part II is "Rebuilding the bridges that were burned".)

Canon references and my commentary relating to the individual articles (a.k.a. me overanalyzing the societal problems of a fictional world) below the cut:

Article 1: Citizens petition for access to specialized quirk training

BNHA Ch. 1 - Midoriya Izuku: Origin

Beyond the narrative function of making the profession of "hero" more important, the laws preventing ordinary citizens from using their quirks don't make a lot of sense. Instead of being encouraged find ways to use their unique quirks to benefit society, people are required by law to suppress their quirks unless they become heroes.

Kids are likewise prohibited from using their quirks in schools, and while there are later references to the quirk counseling system, there was never anything that indicated that kids were taught how to use their quirk safely and effectively. If citizens are indeed inspired to step up and take action instead of leaving everything to the heroes, it would make sense that they would also fight for the right to be allowed to use their quirks.

Article 2: Opinion: Heteromorph discrimination is everyone's problem

BNHA Ch. 371 - Together with Shouji & 372 - Naked

The heteromorph plotline was a bit rushed in the manga, but I thought it was extremely important because of the obvious references to racial prejudices that exist in the real world.

Also, the "Heroes who look like villains" ranking is sometimes seen as funny because Endeavor is number one on that list, but I think the list itself is super problematic. Gang Orca is confirmed as Number 3, presumably just because of his looks, so I'd imagine that many of the others on that list are heroes with heteromorph quirks.

Article 3 - Medical: Quirk Awakenings Explained

BNHA: Ch. 394 - Urarako Ochako vs. Toga Himiko

Yeah, I am not even going to attempt to explain the science of quirk awakenings. 😂 However, I included this article here to show that it's something people are talking about. It's also a hint that people are wondering about the young heroes got quirk awakenings during the war and that there are rumors about them even if legitimate news sources are respecting their privacy at the moment.

Article 4: Ministry of Education announces delay in school reopenings

This article was longer than I originally planned but I decided not to cut it because it includes several key points:

The fact that school won't fully resume yet means that Shouto and his family will have time to deal with things before they need to go home. (more on that in Part III)

There is still a lot of fallout and destruction from the war that needs to be dealt with that would affect the logistics of re-opening schools.

Despite the sentiment that heroes shouldn't be placed on a stage and that citizens can and should step up and take action, there would certainly still be many people, like the parent quoted in the article, who think that heroes should deal with their problems.

Acknowledging that the kids (including all of the hero students) need proper support, and that the current quirk counseling system is flawed is the first step toward actual change (which is desperately needed).

In regards to the brief Fuyumi POV, I don't know how realistic it would be for her to be able to take an extended leave of absence, but she's already given up so much to take care of her family, so I decided to give her a supportive principal.

[roughentumble]

.

also like im sorry. but the first time i heard the term "landback" and didnt know exactly what it entailed, i googled it, and the first thing i found said that its a term that no one really agrees how it should be enacted, or what it encompasses, or what it could entail precisely.

so yes. if you want to have an effective discussion about land back, you have to specifically talk about the version of it that you have in mind when you're advocating for it. because no one can agree on exactly what it looks like. and its different for every tribe and every area and even then there's still discussion within the tribe. which is fine! but it means there's no clear conversation to be had if youre not specific and you dont explain.

and im for land back!!! in all situations!! all of those different variables, im for all of them!!! but you literally cant be mad when someone says "ive never heard of that before, what would it mean for my daily life". would the laws change? the taxes? we dont trust cops around here, but what would it mean for fire fighter response? what about local government? who would i call for zoning issues, or is that not relevant to me once i've taken part in land back?

these arent malicious questions. these are normal questions to ask about how a massive shift would work. i dont care if youve gone over it with people in the community, people OUTSIDE the community havent heard the discussions. go over it with them so they understand what would happen. I THINK IT SHOULD HAPPEN. IT'S STILL GOOD TO DISCUSS LOGISTICS

god, the same shit happens with complete prison abolition, where people get so annoyed when you ask "what would society look like without prisons and how would we deal with crime and genuine harm done to others?"

they jump to saying "it isnt dealt with now! there's only 1% of rapists in prison, there's only [x]% of abusers, the recidivism rates, the way prison is a den of abuse for the people in it" and like yes i agree with those points. but also no matter what you say, people will hear 1% and go "but 1% is a better chance of being saved if im on the receiving end of extreme violence, than 0% in a system that does nothing". they!!! are always going to go with the devil they know!!! if the alternative is completely in the dark!!!!

"what is the alternative to prisons" is always, in my experience seeing these conversations leak out into public internet discourse, to say "well, there's just so many options, and we're still discussing in the community--" stop. stop. that will never ever ever work. that will never convince anyone.

1) you never stop doing [x social thing] without any solid clearly defined agreed upon plan for the alternative. you just dont. 2) that doesnt encourage anyone to look for more information, it makes it sound like there is no solid alternatives period, 3) just!! say!!! what you think!!!! just say "well there arent any solid plans yet, but i personally like [x method] and [y method]", because that gives people a foothold. that gives them the context to start understanding the argument, the alternative that is being presented, it gives them a broad image of what to picture for a prisonless society and how it might function. that is an archetype WE DONT CURRENTLY HAVE, so you have to paint them a picture so they can start to imagine. so that they have some place to start looking. some concept they can start to research on and expand from there.

most people dont know what a prison-less society or land back looks like. im sorry its annoying to explain it a lot. but they dont know. if you want to do outreach, paint a picture. tell them what it means. get into logistics.

the moment you step outside your community to talk to people outside it, you are doing outreach. so look into how to do it well, how to get people on your side, and how to introduce concepts to people who have never heard of it before.

[citynewsglobe]

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[winterburnwriting]

Progress for Today (Jan 10)

Well I managed to get some more writing done today. Er, last night? This morning? Yes today was my day off and I had to take care of some things for my family but after that was dealt with and making a pitstop at a record store, it was my intention to get some writing done. At least a little. I am prioritizing consistent progress over great amounts of progress.

I stayed up late watching TV (Resident Alien on Syfy, good show) and working on some various things around the house. I didn't do any job-hunting (something I probably should have found time for). But it was a nice enough evening. A big storm kicked up in the afternoon and persists as I write this, with some of the strongest winds we have seen here in years.

A couple hours ago the storm must have ripped something off a tree down the street because our power flickered and went out. This happens frequently in the highly rural area I live in. Sometimes it won't return for weeks on end. It's a hoot. But thankfully, as I was preparing to climb into bed very early and get some reading done, the power returned just as quickly as it had gone.

Realizing I had yet to get any writing done yet and not wanting to do it on my phone in bed, I decided to re-open my laptop so I could write just a couple paragraphs. Instead I started getting into the rhythm of the process and wrote about 1,067 words. Not some great accomplishment, especially to any proper author, but I was proud. It was a couple more pages out of the way.

I am on chapter 3, which still places me at the simple beginning of the story. There is a newlywed couple. Chapter one is very short and explores the home life of these two in very short form. It also sets up the shabby state of their cheap apartment, and the husband's finding a real dinky property for them to buy and turn into a beautiful home with renovations and redecorations.

Chapter two focuses on the husband, who spends his day working on professional sculpting work and struggling with their collapsing home and failing appliances. There's a lot of emphasis on the fact these two are not making a great living. I also include a cute mouse named Gerald, who is not a pet but he is a friend. There's a brief phone call sequence at the beginning with the husband and his father. I might change that to make it a little more volatile. I'm not sure where I want to take that yet. It depends highly on the logistics of later chapters.

I've only just started chapter 3, but it'll focus on a day at work for the wife. She tends tables at a local diner. She's friends with her coworkers. One of them alerts her to a strange beatnik customer at the bar, wearing leather and sporting a goofy but discerning look. His teeth are mangled and sharp. It's a sight. She also saw his oddly fancy car outside. That's all I have so far. This is setting up some things for future chapters. Where the chapter will go from there I'm not certain. I might just spend it developing her and her normal life a bit more. Sometimes it's fun just to write normal folks living normal lives, too.

That's all I have today. Hopefully it isn't the last time this week I manage to get some writing in. I want to get at least 3.5-5k words committed to paper each week. A low goal, but that's all I need to get this finished within a couple months. Wish me luck! I'll include a very short excerpt below. The names are completely temporary. Have a good night! Er... day.

"Lucy reached the time clock and slid her punch card in. She wondered about moving. Would it affect her ability to work here at the diner? She hoped not. This job was quite good for her. She always doubted the idea that she could work somewhere else. And she got decent pay, all things considered. More than anything, she would just miss having her friends to talk to during her shifts. She decided not to tell them she might be ripped out of her post.

“Mornin’ Luce!” chirped a bird named Liz. She was blonde and short - Shorter than Lucy, who was slightly above average height. Her smile reminded Lucy this shift wouldn’t be so bad. She wasn’t alone."

[warriorofteaching]

Coming to {REDACTED}

Look, if my identity gets out, it probably won't be the end of the world but I'm a teacher. If things did get out, I'd have to review all my writing to make sure nothing dicey made it out and that's a lot of work I'm just not interesting in doing.

Here's something I missed in the "quick" introduction. I'm a purebred suburban city boy. I've always been aware of it cause I'm a English teacher. I engage with lots of media, see different worlds and perspectives, so I knew how different my life was. I've lived in one city and two places: the family house for about a two and a quarter decades and then a brand new apartment-style condo unit I bought for half a decade.

The inspiration for this blog and these reflections (that might continue. My track record for continuing projects is not great) came from the forceful, lived realization that I am a spoiled, purebred, suburban city boy. I recently, two days ago and by two days I mean 27ish hours ago, moved to a rural town to teach at the school. And oh boy, if you haven't experience a thing that you know turn into a lived realization (TM), you are one lucky duck. Unlike the owl duck my friend hit with the moving truck on the way here.

Let's start at the beginning. I decided to get back into classroom teaching at my own renewed interest but also at the gentle, but firm urging of a colleague. The organization I was with was going through some organizational difficulties I'm sure they'll weather but it was going to be stormy. When I told her I was thinking about applying for teaching jobs again, she told me to do it.

This seems pretty simple. And indeed it is. I'm sure we've all been in situations where we've gently encouraged to do something. But never underestimate how life-changing something like that can be. If she hadn't said that to me, I don't know that I ever would have left my city-life. That I would have found my way back to classroom teaching.

As you might have surmised, I got the job (two actually but that's a story with too many unique details to tell. For now.). It was in a small rural town five hours away from my home city. Remember: spoiled, purebred, suburban city boy. Only live in two place in the suburbs. In the city. I took the job and started planning for moving.

I'm going to skip some of the details here but let me tell you, just planning the move was one of the most stressful things I've ever dealt with. Aside from the simple logistics and surprising costs of moving to a city five hours away, plans kept changing, falling through, or just getting fucked up altogether. It was exhausting. I thought I was going to live in my little two-bedroom condo forever so I hadn't accumulated much. But I had accumulated furniture which I am never fucking taking with me ever again.

Moving day arrives. By the time we were scheduled to leave, everything was packed away and ready to go. We went to pick up the moving truck. There was a fiasco and a shockingly high cost which, at that point, I just had to eat. We get back to the condo and the goddamn elevator service dude hasn't brought the elevator key to lock the elevator.

My dude, you had one job. (Technically two, he did the other one and padded the elevator)

This made the move take twice, maybe even three times as long because it just so happened there was a 60th birthday party going on in the building at the same time. Also, it was raining. Somewhere between regular raining and pouring. We finally finished packing everything around 8-9PM. Why so late? Because for scheduling reasons, we couldn't start the move until 3PM.

This meant we ended up driving on the intercity highway at night, in pitch black, while it was pouring outside. Great times. It was the second scariest drive I've ever down. And it was about five hours. And now that we're here, remember the owl duck? I saw it first on the side of the road and thought it looked like an owl. I swerved a little to avoid hitting it and it flew off. About a half hour later, my friend encountered a duck in the middle of the road. It didn't fly off until it was too late but after talking, he thinks it might have been the owl I saw. Hence: owl duck.

I arrived at about 1AM with my friend and the moving truck about 30 minutes later. We were understandably exhausted by then so we didn't finish moving until 5AM. There were two small problems with this part. First, the rain. It had stopped about half way to {REDACTED}. But it had rained hard enough that the bottom of some of the boxes were quite wet. Thankfully, the Canadian Tire boxes held up. A couple of books did get the covers wet but all things considered, a trifle. The second thing was my friend still needed to return the truck. Aka, drive five hours back to the city. The plan was always to spend the night and drive the next day but since we finished at 5AM and the truck had to be returned by 3PM, there wasn't a ton of wiggle room.

12 paragraphs in we get to the inspiration of this sudden reflection and the start of this blog. The basement unit I'm renting is pretty decent. It's decently priced. It's a pretty big space. It's reasonably renovated. Perhaps the most egregious thing is it was clearly not cleaned before I got here. But it's a basement rental.

There's bug's at the amount you would expect in a basement (likely in part because of the aforementioned lack of cleaning). The walls, appliances, and cabinets are well-used as you would expect from an older, rural building. There's miscellaneous nature junk inside. It's all, very frankly, reasonably what you would expect in a basement rental.

Yet I found myself constantly triggered. It certainly didn't help that it was 1AM and I was exhausted from moving. But even today, as I was unpacking, I was triggered by how uncertain I was of the cleanliness of the cabinets. Of the floor. Back at home, I would throw clothes and things on the floor because I knew it was clean. Here, I find myself throwing them in boxes or bins because I don't trust the floor. I bought placemats for the cabinets because I wasn't sure they were clean with the clear wear and tear. Every time I walk into the backyard to the door for the basement, I see all the reasonable amount of cobwebs hanging around outside the building.

It brought into such clear focus for me: I'm a spoiled, suburban city boy. Despite the emphasis I put on that, I'm not as depressed or defeated as it might seem. Instead, it's the freight train hitting me, it's that living realization of who I am. I keep telling myself (and my unfortunate friend): it's only two years. Two years of teaching locally before I can start truly pursuing an international teaching position. Or more accurately, two more years till I can GTFO back to my spoiled, suburban city life.

I am, in some ways, glad for this experience. It's going to force me to experience the world in a different way. It's going to force me to adapt and perhaps even grow more comfortable with miscellaneous nature junk. Perhaps even grow more comfortable with bugs *shiver*. It'll be a great experience to grow from. It's just unfortunate that the best growing experiences are also painful.

I'm also hopeful the teaching will provide a potent distraction. My first year full time teaching English, the subject matter I actually enjoy. This has been my goal for twenty-five odd and winding years. Here we finally are. Let's see if it lives up to the hope. And let's see if I live up to it.

[productsreviewings]

Retrenched tech employees really feel they've been mistreated by their former employers after years of loyalty. Former Googlers and meta employees say they have been laid off or instantly locked out of the system whereas on maternity go away. HR consultants instructed Insider that many corporations are unprepared for the supply of mass layoffs. loading One thing is loading Thanks for signing up! Entry your favourite subjects in a customized feed whilst you're on the go Obtain the app Why does the most recent spherical of layoffs in tech appear significantly brutal?In March, a bunch of greater than 1,400 Googlers petitioned CEO Sundar Pichai to respect employees and never "be evil" as the corporate minimize its workforce by 12,000. The outrage got here after numerous former workers publicly shared how they felt the corporate dealt with their layoffs in a distinctly un-Google-y approach. Some found they'd been laid off whereas on parental go away. Present workers stated they realized they have been let go after emails from co-workers bounced again.Then there's the difficulty of severance packages: Some former workers begged the corporate to grant them accepted parental go away or paid go away, whereas others lamented the miscalculation of their inventory choices. These unlucky conditions are a part of a rising refrain of laid-off tech employees throughout the business who really feel their once-beloved employers are giving them the chilly shoulder. When Meta started its first spherical of mass layoffs, some workers realized their destiny after they could not log again into their laptops whereas working from house. One laid-off Meta worker described the expertise as "chilly" and "impersonal."After years of abusing — some would say robbing — their workers, why are the layoffs being dealt with in such an impersonal approach that leaves employees feeling alienated? The Insider spoke to a few human sources consultants about the best way corporations strategy layoffs. Consultants say that whereas a few of what we have seen in layoffs is a part of a well-planned technique, the remaining is probably going an oversight. And within the case of Google and Meta, who've by no means completed a mass layoff earlier than, a few of that may be chalked as much as inexperience."Lots of people should be communicated with about firm choices. And most corporations are unprepared to take care of the logistics round that," says David Lewis, CEO of Operations Inc., a human sources consulting agency. No plan is flawlessFirms sometimes plan weeks or months prematurely of any layoff announcement.As soon as the finance division determines that steep cost-cutting measures are so as, management meets with HR, authorized, and consulting groups to develop an motion plan. They may attempt a hiring freeze and restrict journey amongst comparatively easy money-saving measures.

However when that does not work, they will attempt the quickest route: minimize the workforce, says Jaime Klein, CEO of Encourage Human Assets.Firms are then pondering who to let go. "Final one employed, first one fired" is a standard phrase, however consultants inform Insider it is by no means that easy. Lots of the current layoffs included individuals who had been with their corporations for years. It might be that the worker had the very best wage in a single function, making them costlier than others. Or perhaps the function is lastly going to be phased out and the corporate has chosen to start out the method with layoffs. Regardless of the purpose, solely the individuals behind the layoffs know the complete story.Regardless of all of the planning going into the massive announcement, there are nonetheless hiccups. Layoffs are generally accelerated due to the urgency to chop prices, Klein stated. In keeping with Lewis, it doesn't matter what technique is tried, there will probably be errors – even if you name within the professionals. "You have seen corporations lumped collectively. It appears impersonal and chilly and disrespectful and disrespectful. You have seen corporations by way of corporations like mine, by way of full strangers on this equation." He stated.Lewis additionally stated that corporations typically neglect about people who find themselves on trip or who name in sick and should not have a plan in place to get the message throughout. This may occasionally sound disgusting, nevertheless it's normally an actual oversight.There isn't any heat and caring strategy to defend firm knowledge No person likes strolling out of their office, saying they can not get again to their workstation to gather their stuff, or instantly locking out their laptop computer. However consultants say a couple of incidents the place issues went horribly mistaken throughout layoffs ruined it for everybody. "Nobody takes this information evenly. Some individuals react very emotionally and should begin sending inappropriate emails, ruining some work," stated Lauren Winan, chief HR guide and CEO of Subsequent Degree Advantages. Winan describes a shopper who waited 24 hours to show off entry so their employees may say goodbye and assist switch their work to a different colleague or group. Various workers benefit from the time to ship e-mails containing obscenities, or destroy information.Lewis recalled a shopper who instructed her it was impolite to disclaim workers the precise to return to their desks to gather their very own belongings. So, he allotted a number of hours for employees to do exactly that. Just a few days later Lewis and his group realized from IT information that an worker had downloaded a whole shopper record from the corporate and commenced reaching out to clients.However, along with defending the corporate, there may be additionally an curiosity in defending the laid-off employees."You do not need them to finish up in a state of affairs the place they do one thing they remorse, as a result of that might comply with them for some time of their profession," Winan stated. These attainable explanations don't communicate to each layoff. There are all the time exceptions. However for many layoffs, corporations attempt to decide on the lesser of all attainable evils, with minimal potential for legal responsibility for all events concerned, Lewis instructed Insider.But, even in that, everybody should keep in mind, as Klein factors out, "We're all going to stumble upon one another once more in life, in our careers. And other people will keep in mind who handled them with respect or not."

[yzafre]

So pursuant to the VS. idea. First off - they're friends, they should be friends, but in a hypothetical situation where they were at odds for an extended period of time. You know, as a fun thought experiment.

It's very fun to take both the way the Leo's work differently and how the shows work differently into account. So, here's my hat thrown in the ring for how it could work.

Like okay. For some reason they're coming across each other as enemies and not working it out idk just go with it. First encounter I think the Rise boys show a strong showing in the first half before getting decimated in the second. Reasoning:

So, while the 2012 boys have dealt with mystic bullshit, it's not, like... in their everyday wheelhouse? They're not expecting it, is what I mean, so I think it would throw them off briefly. And maybe that could have been enough for the Rise boys to win, except...

Look, I love them, but they're cocky little shits. There may have been a couple episodes about the 2012 crew getting overconfident, but that's nothing on the way the Rise boys just exist. Throw in the 2012 boys' initial reaction to their ninpo? Yeah, they're going to be way overconfident, and it is going to come back to bite them super embarrassingly. I'm talking frantic retreat, barely escaping.

This is where the differences in the shows kicks in.

Okay, so. The Rise boys are way more in their feelings than the 2012 are. I mean, the '12 crew won, so they don't have a reason to be in high emotion, but even if they somehow lost they wouldn't be that deep into it, it's not how their show works. That's not a knock on them or saying they don't have emotions - they obviously do - it's just that there was a shift in the way kids show characters were written in the late '00s/early '10s era when '12 started and the end of the '10s/early '20s era when Rise aired (I have. An entire other post I could write on that topic. I think about it a lot).

But back to the point the Rise boys are going to be in a tizzy over this. Mikey will be moping, Donnie will be pissed, Raph will be both frustrated about losing and stressed managing his family, and Leo's self-esteem/inferiority issues will be acting up sooo bad, especially if they've identified the others as other versions of themselves (why are they still fighting then? doesn't matter for this thought experiment, moving on).

So like. Yeah the next few encounters are not going well for Rise, because that's what happens when their emotions are off/they're out of sync as a family. It would be a disaster. A string of humiliating, embarrassing losses.

The 2012 side of the story would be more focused on... why this happened. How this happened. What should happen next, you know? Plot and logistics, because, you know, that's how their story works.

Every encounter would make them A) more frustrated at still not ending this drawn out back-and-forth, B) more baffled on how the Rise crew is managing to escape and C) more convinced the Rise boys aren't a serious threat (foreshadow over-confidence pt 2?). Donnie would probably be doing more research into the multiversal angle, Mikey would have clocked the others as not really a threat, but like, in an existential/moral way?, but not thought to/known how to communicate that and instead drifted off to "new sibling" land in his head, and Leo and Raph would be bickering over approach.

The thing is, Rise always works out their emotions and relationships eventually. That's how their show works. Eventually they'll communicate on their insecurities, and hype each other up, and figure out what they're doing wrong/stop comparing themselves to others/figure out some crazy new idea. They'll get their groove back.

And because how their show works is also how their family magic works (communicating and strengthening your trust/family bond = get stronger!), they'll be on even better footing than when they started.

Now, I don't necessarily know if that means they'd be able to beat 2012 in a straight up fight. We gotta take a brief aside to talk about combat skills, genre, and, again, how the shows work.

So, while Rise has 'ninja' in the name... it's a lot more like a super hero show? Or Naruto, I guess, if you want to stay in the ninja realm. Naruto had a lot of spectacle going on. Whereas '12 focused a lot more on martial arts.

I tend to lean towards one-on-one duels are firmly in '12s favor, whereas wild spontaneous brawls will lean towards Rise, but everyone's opinion will differ. Realistically, Rise just... doesn't have the years of technique '12 does. I can admit that.

BUT if we look at the shows - the way they're framed leans towards their Leos. '12 Leo, as said above, is more of a Noble Warrior archetype. '12, as a show, has a lot of focus on needing to defeat the enemy, of comparing martial skill. The fights themselves are what are most heavily framed, even if they're a part of some kind of other/extended mission.

But Rise has a Trickster Hero archetype for their Leo. Rise is about the shenanigans. There's fights, yes - very fun anime-esque ones - but the context is usually elevated to equal standing with the combat, and they have a higher tendency to manage to achieve their goal in.... weird ways. With less than elegant results.

What I'm saying is the two Leo's come at things with different mindsets. And once Rise!Leo's embraced that, the next encounter would go very differently.

Because, see, it doesn't matter if they can beat the '12 boys in a fight. What matters if they can achieve their goal.

'12 Leo's goal is for you not to see him until he wants you to.

Rise Leo's goal is for you to only see what he wants you to.

So yeah, the '12 boys would pick up that the fight is noticeably more difficult than the last time, but they would still be winning.

Until suddenly they turn around only to realize somewhere in all the chaos the Rise boys have accomplished their goal, and Rise Leo is ushering his brothers off with one last smug little wave.

Leaving the fight itself unresolved.

And I think that kind of loss would piss 12 Leo off so much, in a way that would be sososo funny to me.

And that's when the real game would begin (at least until they finally communicate and work together because they're friends your honor) (and also at this point it could be fun to start having "the way their show works" bleed over to the other half of the equation).

Thinking about 2012!Leo and Rise!Leo, and how if you look at them in the first episodes of their respective season 1 they actually are so much the same character at the base just with different upbringing, but what ends up making them different at the end of their series is actually a result of a thing they have in common:

That is, their tendency to emulate and play a role (which I've loved every post where I've seen people talk about this). Except their different upbringings meant they had very different role models (their tv show of choice and their dads) (especially their dads) and so the archetypes they developed themselves into changed.

2012!Leo was growing into, ehhh, I guess you could call it a Noble Warrior archetype? Whereas rise!Leo was going more, like, Trickster Hero. Which I think means that even if rise!Leo was able to reach the very end of his arc they would have functioned very differently as leaders, but in ways that were still very true to their characters!

(Admittedly everything has to be speculation and extrapolation on where characters were going in Rise, but...)

And I know I'm probably just rehashing ground others have already tread but I can't stop thinking about how that would play out. And also how in a crossover I kinda think even at their best the two Leos would maybe drive each other a bit crazy at first until they understood each other.

Like yes, yeah, 2012!Leo helping the newer/younger iteration work through his issues and insecurities to reach his full potential is GREAT, I always love reading it, but ALSO sometimes I want to see two developed leaders with different specialties (personal battle skills and commanding a flat-out fight vs ...idk how to put this, creative strategies and tactics? pseudo-diplomatic nonsense? ...defeating an enemy vs accomplishing a goal? the difference is this thing I can feel but am having trouble putting into words). I just think it would be interesting to see their different approaches to problem solving bounce off each other, whether they were working together or in a VS. situation.

[azems-familiar]

For Qatya: what was the most difficult part of rebuilding the Order?

"If I say everything, will you accuse me of looking for an easy out?" Qatya asks, with a laugh. The amused smile settles into something more serious, and she leans back in her seat. "I think the easiest part of rebuilding - I know that's not what you asked, but it's the easiest thing to quantify immediately - was stepping up and taking the position. Despite my status as an exile, I had Atris backing me, and circumstances meant that even most of the masters remaining on Coruscant supported me. I didn't actually reach for a Council position, much less becoming Grand Master, right away; people just started calling me Grand Master, and no one disagreed, and eventually it was made official."

She sighs and takes a sip of caf from the well-loved mug on her desk, which was apparently a gift from her former master, the late Master Kavar, back when she was a padawan. "The first hard thing was just walking back into the High Council chambers. Actually, no, that's a lie - it was setting foot on Coruscant itself. I hadn't been back since the trial after the end of the Mandalorian Wars, and coming back here, and to the Temple, left me with a little bit of a hard time grounding myself in the right time." It's a reference to the PTSD she's dealt with ever since the end of the Mandalorian Wars, which often manifests itself in flashbacks.

"Beyond that, one of the more difficult issues we had to overcome was the fact that the Republic and the people of the galaxy had lost trust in the Jedi Order. The Jedi Civil War did a lot of damage, and very little of it had been properly repaired when the Purge happened. Convincing the greater galaxy that the Order could and would help them, that they were right to place their trust in us again. That the Order would not abandon them again. Oh, the logistical issues were rough, and building our numbers back up took a long time, and as always the Republic Senate wanted too much from us, but those are the problems I expected to have to deal with when I took on this responsibility. I hadn't realized that I would also have to be the one rebuilding the Order's trustworthiness - a task that is, to me, far more delicate and important than the logistics of training padawans when we had barely any knights and repairing and reestablishing contact with the enclaves." She pauses, and then laughs again. "I suppose that's why I'm the Grand Master, and not the Master of the Order."

[wristbandsblog]

Customised Wristbands for the Snow beat Festival

Around a week ago, I decided to order 100 custom wristbands for an upcoming snowbeat festival that I was organising. The name of the event is Snowbeat Festival and it's being held at an outdoor venue in UTRECHT, NETHERLANDS. The idea behind these concerts is that there will be no headlining acts, but rather local bands are showcased as headliners through different stages to create unity among the performers. I wanted to really make our local acts the focus of the event rather than some act from abroad who has no connection to the city.

My idea was to make customised wristbands with our band's logo on them so that people would know who we were and what we were doing while they were at the concert. I ordered my custom wristbands from Wristbandseurope.com and they were exactly what I was looking for in terms of the product.

I was incredibly impressed with the work that was done. The custom wristbands are top quality and the design looks excellent. The quality is amazing, and the writing is really clear to see – even in the dark! No doubt it was also great value for money as they only cost me 10€ including the customized print. I paid more for plain wristbands last year from another company and am so glad I found these guys. I got a lot of positive responses from people who have seen them. Some people even thought they were official wristbands due to how professional they looked.

The person that I dealt with at Wristbandseurope.com was extremely responsive, quick to reply to emails, and willing to work with me on every step of the order. Overall, it was a good experience and I would like to thank Wristbandseurope.com for helping me put the finishing touches on my project. I wanted everything to be perfect for the festival and thanks to the team I was not disappointed. For next year I might even include a QR code on the wristband that links to the band’s Facebook page so people can follow our page and keep up to date with gigs.

My order was completed within a week and the wristbands were delivered to me in Amsterdam via DHL so I could pick them up locally. Overall, I couldn't be happier with the outcome of my order. I will use Wristbandseurope.com services again in the future. I just wanted to say that the wristbands were a great hit at the festival, and I think we could have done a lot more promoting with them than what we actually did since they were such an eye-catcher.

Importance of wristbands in festivals

Festival Wristbands have become a popular trend in the concert scene. They ensure that visitors are able to attend the right shows and have access to freebies and other amenities. Wristbands also help festival organisers with accurate attendance numbers, event logistics, and barcode scanning opportunities. Here is everything you need to know about them!

For many people, their first experience with wristbands was at a music festival.  The plastic bracelet on their arm meant that they were allowed entry into the show and even if they didn't like what was happening on stage, the branded accessories were enough of a draw for them to stay until the end of a set time. Of course, most people loved the music too and the wristbands were a little memory for people to take away after the event was over.

The popularity of wristbands has grown as technology and event management processes have improved. Today, they are available at all kinds of events and venues for music, sports, and even hotels. While my small Snowbeat event used wristbands most of the biggest festivals in the world use them too such as Tomorrowland, Glastonbury, and others. I hope our event will grow and become similar to some of those amazing brands.

After a quick search online, it was clear that www.wristbandseurope.com has the best quality and price! They even have an in-house print shop which means they can customise any order to your own specification. The online designer allows customers to add logos and text and see a live preview of how the band will appear. That’s great as I was able to show it to my partners before moving ahead and placing an order. Thanks for the great work guys and hopefully next year I will need even more wristbands for the event!

[ode-of-odr-archive]

A general rule of thumb, stay away from those with celestial blood. Not like they naturally had to hate each other, but often enough the encounter wasn't the best. Most had a good lot in life, their celestial blood being seen as a blessing, a piece of the heavens walking the earth. That some powerful deva or some such found a mortal so good in will and brave they took romantic feelings.

It amused the demon spawn, that when angels fucked a mortal there was always some excuse on why it was pure and not just some celestial being getting their rocks off. Perhaps it was because if it was the latter they would have fallen.

The logistics of it often left him confused. Still, they often were given all the opportunities and came from loving families. They were the cold refreshing water on a hot day. Tieflings were stale water that made you sick.

These different life experiences, which were the more common norm meant they just didn't get along. But here this aasimar was smashing a bottle over this man's head.

"I would listen to her, you might spill holy water on me, but she looks ready to bathe you in your own blood."

This in truth was a better outcome for the drunk. If she had not intervened he would have just snapped his neck and dealt with the consequences.

The drunken man nodded and slowly backed away and crawled back to his table. The tavern was tense and still for a moment longer before things resumed, everyone realizing the danger had passed.

"While not entirely needed, thank you nonetheless," Raserei said to the woman who stepped in to defend his honor, not that it needed saving.

though she is blessed with the blood of the divine, ramona does not consider herself at all holy. she, in her opinion, is especially nothing compared to her mother, who bathes the world in magic with her beauty alone. ramona understands these are big shoes to fill, & does not feel wholly worthy of it either. she mauls over these emotions & thoughts, whilst listening intently to the air, as if waiting for someone to respond. ( and she is waiting for someone to respond. ) no, the great old one does not seem to be available, not even the tinest hint. they are not too keen on indulging ramona in conversation if it were to simply quench her boredom. she tsks. 

in her hand, she cradles a tankard of ale, whistling softly to herself as she twirls a strand of black hair with her index finger, at first glance she seems like a woman who is carefree in nature, with only the glow of her ice pupils signifying one of her aasimar heritage. though ramona does not pay any mind to it, she keeps her knowledge of the celestials closed, & her wings further closed. 

no, ramona does not intrude in anyone's business, though she cannot help the commotion she hears from a boisterous drunk. very hard to ignore. especially with the type of shit he's spewing. the words reach ramona's ears & she cannot help but feel the bile building up in her throat, her face twisting in disgust — especially at the obvious slur uttered from this fool. ramona merely allows her emotions to drive her & she does not care for the consequences either way, she takes the tankard, downs the ale, & bashes the drunk right across the face with it. all without a second thought. 

probably stupid to do... the ale is already getting to her head when she spits back at the drunk. "your mother ever teach you some manners?!" though she does not give them a moment to even think of a response before she pulls out her dagger & aims it right for their eyeball. "you outta watch you're saying..."

[nexttimeemptytheclip]

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