#maybe I just need to be better educated on alternative ways of living without cities?

[formallyoctobergods]

I'm actually going to be sad if cities start to die out due to the high street becoming less important and delivery and internet shopping becoming the normal. I like going out shopping and I like city centres. I feel like things becoming too focused on data and the internet we're going to be moving further into a capitalist society and monopolies will become more common.

[writing-prompts-for-friends]

Questions to Help World Build

I’ve realized I have a big problem with my writing. I am awful at world-building. Like, I just start writing without thinking about the world. And since I write fantasy. Well. That’s pretty no bueno and leads to all kinds of problems down the road. So I did some brainstorming with my friends and we created a list of over 100 questions to help think about our stories’ worlds and make them more concrete. Thanks to everyone who chimed in and gave me a hand! 

A traditional Japanese clock, wadokei, that counted hours from 9 to 4, starting from sunrise, and then starting once again from sunset. (1-3 were not used for religious purposes.) They’re super interesting and confusing. You should definitely check them out.

Temporal

Is your story set in the past, present, or future?

Specifically, what year(s), month(s), day(s)?

Are days 24 hours? Or does time pass differently in this world?

How many months are there in a year? Is it a seven day weekday? Does the concept of weekends exist?

Have most existing societies developed a timekeeping device?

Is there a way to communicate across long distances?

The concept of time zones is still relatively new to our world. Prior to the late nineteenth century, timekeeping was a purely local phenomenon. Each town would set their clocks to noon when the sun reached its zenith each day. Do standardized time zones exist across the world?

Geographical

From a planet perspective, is it Earth? If it is not Earth, or an alternative version of Earth, what is it like? Is gravity the same? Does it have a moon or multiple moons? Can you see other planets? Is it closer or further from the sun? If so, what impact does that have on the climate and passage of time?

What town, state, region, country, continent, planet does this story take place in? What are its bordering/nearest neighbors? Draw a world map if you want.

What kind of land is it? Landlocked? Mountainous? Along the sea? Desert? Tundra? Tropical forest? Plains? Agricultural? Industrial?

What kind of plants and animals are common to the area? Are there any that do not exist in the real world?

What are the most common crops and livestock in various regions? What geographic features influence certain regions ability to grow/raise their crops and livestock (positively and negatively)? Are the regions diets strongly influenced by what they are able to grow themselves, or do other circumstances (like strong international trade) allow them to have more varied selections? How does religion influence what is considered ‘normal’ to eat?

What, if any, natural disasters are common to the region? Earthquakes, floods, tornadoes, monsoons, blizzards?

How many seasons does it have? Are any longer than others?

What is the typical weather like for those seasons?

Does the region have any unusual geographical features that set it apart? Perhaps there is some weird thing like Devil’s Tower just chilling out. Or hot springs because of volcanic activity?

Is it easy to travel from place to place within the area? Is it difficult to travel because of terrain/technology issues, or because travel is strictly regulated?

Main Locations: Cities

Many stories take place within one city. In Neil Gaiman’s Sandman, a character remarks, “So, if a city has a personality, maybe it also has a soul. Maybe it dreams.” What personality does this city have? What soul does it have? What does it dream of when it slumbers? If your story takes place within a settlement, town, or city, give these questions some thought.

Exactly where is it located within the lands you conjured up in the above Geography questions? Does it have a bay? A river? Does it butt up against mountains? Draw a map of the city.

How big is the city? Is it compact, or sprawling?

How old is the city?

What is the history of the city? How did it come to be? What tumults and triumphs has it seen?

What is the population? Is it currently increasing, decreasing, or remaining the same?

Does the town have any claim to fame? Any tourist attractions? What are they? What’s the story behind them?

If it’s a big enough city, how many and what kind of districts does it have? Residential, Commercial, Industrial, etc. Where are they?

Are there any areas that are deemed unsafe? If so, where are they and why are they unsafe?

Is there public transportation? What kind, bus, tram, train, subway, monorail? Is it good?

How do people get around this city if not by public transportation?

Are the roads narrow or wide? Crisscrossing in a methodical grid or higgledy-piggledy?

What are the buildings like? What materials are they made of? If they’re wooden, are they new wood, old wood? If they’re painted, what colors? If they’re stone, what stone? If they’re brick, is it new red brick or blackened, crumbling brick? If they’re glass and metal, are they sparkling with new hope or dull and jaded?

Are there many skyscrapers? Or are most buildings 1-3 stories tall? What does the skyline look like?

Are there many parks?

How is the city powered? Coal? Hydroelectric? Wind? Nuclear? Has it always been so?

What is the city’s main source of revenue? Agriculture? Tourism? Manufacturing? Mining? Something else? A combination? Dive deeper into this. If it’s agriculture, what do they grow? Tourism–what is famous? etc. This will help to determine what a lot of people do for a living.

What are the demographics? Ethnicity, age distribution, distribution of upper, middle, and lower class, etc.

How many schools are there? Universities? Are any of them good? Do they specialize in anything? Do schools even exist? Perhaps there are clans that teach their children everything they need, for example, or education isn’t viewed as important.

Are there any particular landmarks within the city that standout?

How many and what kind of restaurants are there?

Are there supermarkets, open air markets, or both?

Where do young people go to spend time? What about adults?

Do people there bustle or do they amble?

What are the nights like? Does the city grow quiet, or does it grow rowdy?

What does the city smell like?

If you had to give your town a color, one that represented its personality, what color would it be?

Main Locations: Houses (or buildings, but mainly houses)

There are many stories that have a house or headquarters or hospital or some sort of building as their main setting. These questions will mostly be geared towards helping you figure out a house, but you can apply these to other buildings too probably.

Exactly where is the house located within the city or outside the city? How does your character usually get there? Draw a map. 

What year was the house built?

Was this house built by the current family or their ancestors? Who else lived in the house before the current dwellers? What were they like? Did they leave their mark on the house somehow?

What style is the house? Bungalow? Cabin? A shed? A cave? (makes the following questions mostly useless if so lol)

How many stories is it?

What is it made of? Wood? Brick? What color is it?

Does it have a lot of windows?

Are the curtains usually open or drawn? Are thee curtains at all?

What does the front door look like? 

Is there a porch?

You enter the front door. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you use the side door because the front door is for show or something. Anyways. You enter the house. What room do you step foot into?

Draw out the floor plans for each floor. How many rooms are there? Where are they? How big are they? How are they connected? What color are they? What style of decor?

Is there a basement? Is it used or is it just a home for spiders and darkness and unwanted things? How about an attic? Crawlspace?

How many bathrooms? 

Are there any rooms that only certain people are allowed to enter? If so, why? 

What is the flooring? Carpet? Wood? Tile? Linoleum? 

What does the house smell like?

Government/Military/Economy

In other words, “the boring stuff,” if you ask me. But this is a very important aspect of any world. 

What sort of government is in place? Democracy, oligarchy, etc? Is it a just or corrupt government?

How are goods exchanged? Bartering? Money? Coins and bills? Credit cards? A specific kind of sea shell? Lol

What are the police like? Strict? Lax? Is there a curfew?

Do taxes exist? If so, do the people feel as though they are heavily or unduly taxed?

Where is the intersection between theology and law? Is it common to have religious leaders in positions of power? Are laws based around religious ideology, or is there an effort to keep them separate?

Is there an organised structure devoted to halting criminal acts? Are they corrupt? Who runs the organisation? How does their reputation change based on demographic? What is the history of the organisation, and how does that history influence how it operates today?

Regarding potentially criminal acts, what is the elgality of prostitution, sex work, ect.?

What about drugs and other illicit substances? Alcohol, illicit drugs, recreational use. Legality, festivity, age limits, etc.

Underbelly. How prevalent is crime, what sort of crime (scaled from pickpocketing to human trafficking) is there? Are there areas that have bad reputations because of it?

Regarding war, are there currently conflicts in the world? Are they international or civil wars? How common is it to have an active war? What is the history of war? What does current warfare look like (Is it dudes in metal suits swinging swords? Have longbows been invented? Gunpowder? Tanks? Missiles?) Is military service mandatory or voluntary? How is the military seen? Is there a sense of patriotism for the military, or does the common man fear it?

Is there stigma around certain genders entering the military? Are come genders regarded as better recruits than others? Is it illegal for some genders to enter the military? Does a person's sexuality affect their ability to serve?

How has religion influenced war? Have there been holy wars in the past? Do any religious institutions hold their own military forces?

Cultural/Historical

I’ve put these together because events in history lead to cultural change. You can apply these questions not only to the world/country, but also the city or even the neighborhood, workplace, or school that your story takes place in.

What is the history of the region? Who was it settled by? Was another group of people displaced? After that, did any new cultures come in? Did they get along?

Were there ever any wars or serious conflicts in the region? What was the cause and what was the outcome of the war if there was one?

In our world, the internet, social media, and film/tv are massive cultural drivers. They determine the latest fashions, jokes, topics, and expressions. What are the big cultural drivers in your world? Books? Plays? Radio? Oral tradition?

Is it a collectivistic or individualistic society?

What languages are spoken by your characters? Is multilingualism common?

What sorts of cultures can be seen? Do any clash? Do any mesh?

What sort of foods are most common?

What superstitions do people hold? Is there a version of “knock on wood” or throwing salt over your shoulder after a funeral? What are the roots of these superstitions?

Are there religions? If so, what are they? Do any conflict with each other? Are zealots or extremists an issue?

Does slavery or indentured servitude exist?

Are there any class or caste systems? If so, what are they, and what does an average day look like for a member of each class/caste?

How does a person's appearance change from country to country? Do certain countries have very distinct fashions? If so, are the fashions influenced by religion, surrounding countries, the cultural majority or international trade partners?

How does a person's clothing relate to their social standing? Is it very easy to assume someone's roll by appearance alone? Are there punishments for dressing above or below your social standing?

Does the society place a great deal of importance on a person's presentation, or is the society more lenient on such things?

Is there an emphasis on conformity to a dress code, or is individuality encouraged? How strictly is clothing regulated by gender binary? Is it commonplace to see a man and a woman walking down the street in the same cut of clothes? Is there a social stigma when a person does not conform to the most common form of dress for their gender?

How are sexual rights viewed? Does the LGBTQ community have the same rights as people outside the community? How are sex acts between people of the same sex viewed? Is it legal? Taboo? Are there cultures that encourage those relationships in some circumstances (like how the romans were down with guys with guys in the military)?

Are there any groups of people that are victims of prejudice? If so, who are they, who holds these views against them, and what views specifically are they?

In regards to gender, do certain societies hold differing beliefs? Is there a commonly accepted number of gender identities or does it change regionally? Is the most common gender spectrum a binary, or do certain racial and cultural differences allow for a wider range to be seen as the baseline?

Are children raised by their biological parents or are children considered to be in the care of the wider community? Is it common/acceptable for extended family to raise children, such as parents needing to study, work, or serve time in the military? Is adoption a common thing in society? Is there a stigma around adoption/being adopted? Do cultural or religious views impact how adoption is seen by the wider community? What is adoption like for a single perspective parent? When adopting, is interracial adoption accepted/common, or is it seen in a negative light? Are some societies more open to adopting children outside of their own race?

How is sex and virginity viewed? Does religion influence it? What is the age of consent? What is appropriate on a first, second, third date? Is sex something that is talked about openly, or something taboo? Are you supposed to wait until marriage? Do couples stay monogamous while dating? Do some regions place higher importance on virginity than others? Do some place higher importance on one gender’s virginity than others?

How is marriage viewed? Are arranged marriages a big thing, or are people free to choose? Is monogamy common? How is a marriage symbolized? A wedding ring, or something different?

How is divorce viewed? What is the divorce rate? Can people remarry?

Magic and the Supernatural

If magic or spooky stuff doesn’t exist in your story, disregard this section.

Does magic exist? If so, who can use it? What are the limitations to their magic? What things are they capable of using their magic to do? What things are they incapable of doing?

Are there laws against what kind of magic can/cannot be used? What sort of laws? Who enforces them? What are the punishments for breaking said laws if they exist?

How does the existence of magic affect religion? Are there religious institutions that infuse magic into their worship? Are there religious sects that see magic as immoral and in direct opposition to their faith? Have there been conflicts in recent or ancient history between religion and the supernatural? Do some sects employ people to hunt and/or enforce law over the supernatural?

Assuming that magic does exist, is it taught? Are there different schools of magic? Is there a system of ranking for magic users based on their skill level?

Do non-magic users look towards magic users with respect or fear?

What role does magic play in this world? Has technology not advanced because magic solves many problems? Or has technology advanced and the use of some magics has become unnecessary?

Are there any mythological creatures/monsters, such as vampires, demons, skinwalkers, dragons, or other creatures of your own creation? Are they common? Do people believe in their existence? Do people worship them? Where can they be found? Do they interact with humans? Do humans fear them or try to put up with them as they do nature?

Do the dead continue to exist in some form, such as ghosts or zombies or the like? Can the dead be summoned or brought back to life?

Are there human/supernatural hybrids? Perhaps a half-demon half-human, for example? How are these people viewed by their peoples, and by society as a whole?

How has the supernatural influenced war? Do armies tend to have a mix of regular and supernatural soldiers/weapons? Have there been wars between the supernatural/magical and those without? How does magic influence a person standing in a mixed army? Is it more likely for a magical being to be promoted than a non-magical being? Conversely, are supernatural being forced into service and seen as pawns?

The End!

Please feel free to reblog and share, and add on any questions you think should be added!

[theradioghost]

hey, can i pester you for some podcast recs? something with a good dose of humour and not too many episodes to catch up on. a sprinkle of queer romance would be a nice bonus. my fave so far is tsco starship iris, and i also loved greater boston, wooden overcoats, the bright sessions and caravan. and thanks always for all your great recs! you’ve brought many hours of joy into my life :)

We Fix Space Junk -- Two intergalactic repairpeople -- a knowledgeable cyborg veteran and a former socialite on the run -- travel the universe meeting people and fixing things at the behest of the terrifying intergalactic corporation they’re trying to work off their debts to. Hilarious British sci-fi sitcom featuring Evil Space Capitalism, many many wonderful AI characters, and an absolutely delightful teenage space wasp-human-cow hybrid princess who is probably off accomplishing her grandiose special destiny somewhere offscreen while the main characters deal with things like their bosses possibly trying to kill them (again).

Death by Dying -- People have a tendency to die in odd ways in the small town of Crestfall, Idaho. Luckily the town also has an Obituary Writer, an eccentric and nameless but impeccably stylish fellow whose closest friend is the Angel of Death, and who has a knack for solving murders even though that’s definitely not his job description. Throw in walrus haikus, extremely rude ravens, Something Mysterious And Malevolent Lurking In The Dark Woods Outside Of Town, disappearing childhood homes, silent nuns, ghost bicycles, and three man-eating cats, and you get something like a delightful cross between Wooden Overcoats and Lemony Snicket. (Also, OW is peak Canonically Bisexual Dumbass.)

Less is Morgue -- Riley is a paranoid, reclusive teenager with a fondness for conspiracy theories who lives in their parents’ basement. They’re also a predatory ghoul who feeds on human flesh. Evelyn is a cheerful, outgoing young woman with questionable tastes in media. She’s also a ghost, ever since she was killed by a falling stage light at a Nickelback concert 16 years ago. And since Riley dug up and ate Evelyn’s corpse, they’re roommates! Will they ever manage to record a coherent episode of their podcast without something going ridiculously wrong and/or Riley eating one of the guests? Probably not!

Victoriocity -- The steampunk buddy-cop comedy-mystery thriller you never knew you needed but definitely do! Featuring Inspector Fleet, a grouchy, extremely driven policeman looking for the murderer of the Empire’s greatest inventor, and Clara Entwhistle, an even more driven and unfailingly upbeat rookie journalist who has just arrived in the island-spanning, bizarre cityscape of alt-history Even Greater London. Come for some of my favorite sarcastic British narration since Adams and Pratchett, stay for characters-are-begrudgingly-forced-to-work-together-until-they-come-to-genuinely-and-deeply-care-about-one-another-as-friends trope. (Also for Tom “Eric Chapman” Crowley as the aforementioned grumpy detective.)

Quid Pro Euro -- From one of the other leads of Wooden Overcoats, this doesn’t have a typical plot as such but has made me laugh so hard I pulled a muscle despite the fact that I know nothing about the EU. Which is what this near-surreal, Look Around You-style comedy is about: Felix Trench’s vision of a simultaneously hilarious and terrifying alternate European Union, seen from the perspective of a serious of educational tapes from the ‘90s predicting what the EU would look like in the 21st century. It’s hard to describe this show in any way that does it justice, but it’s incredibly funny.

Time:Bombs -- A miniseries by the exalted creators of Wolf 359, which (because they are madmen) was written, recorded, and produced in the space of one week. Also, a comedy about an NYC bomb retrieval squad on New Year’s Eve, most of whom are just trying to get through the night while their leader attempts to break a record for most bombs cleared before the calendar ticks over. Chaos and hilarity ensure.

Superstition -- Wisecracking, bi, Jewish, definitely-a-private-eye-just-don’t-check-her-qualifications Jacqueline St. James receives a message from her father, which is weird, because her parents disappeared years ago. Following the trail leads Jack to Superstition, Arizona, a town in the middle of the desert where everyone’s got secrets, assorted ghosts/monsters/cryptids harrass the locals, and the missing persons rate is the highest in the nation. As a protagonist Jack is Looking For Trouble And If She Cannot Find It She Will Create It, so while Superstition isn’t a comedy per se, it’s got a fair share of laughs and is also just so, so excellent in general.

Standard Docking Procedure -- A self-declared hopepunk scifi workplace comedy about the somewhat dysfunctional staff of Pseudopolis Station, effectively a high-tech interstellar truck stop. It’s funny and heartwarming, nothing truly bad happens, and Julia Schifini is there.

Solutions to Problems -- A morally-questionable human named Janet who has defintely never done any illegal time travel and an easygoing, physically indescribably alien who likes to go by Loaf host an intergalactic advice podcast. Are you tired of your species’ insistence on solving everything via ritual combat? Not sure how to talk to your partner about whether body-swapping has a place in your sex life? Dealing with being a superpowered teenager summoned into being by the collective will of an apocalyptic groupthink cult? Janet and Loaf have you covered! Provided that Janet’s on-and-off girlfriend, the AI who supplies the air they breathe, doesn’t kill them all first. Oddly heartfelt comedy in the form of a relationship advice radio show from the Space Future.

Middle:Below -- This show’s tagline is “Remember: bad things WILL happen,” and that is basically a lie. This is actually a short, incredibly heartwarming and frequently funny show about Taylor Quinn, the only human with the ability to pass between the land of the living (aka the Middle) and the land of ghosts (the Below). Meaning, of course, that the dead call on him to fix all their problems, with the help of a girl named Heather, a ghost named Gil, and a cat named Sans. (Also, some of the most comparatively wild live shows I’ve ever heard.)

Inn Between -- Ever wonder what fantasy characters get up to between adventures, during all that time they seem to spend at inns? This show skips all the adventuring, question, and action, instead focusing on the quiet moments between where what is Definitely Not A D&D Party meet and progress from bickering strangers brought together by circumstance to close-knit found family -- all at the inn, of course. (Lots of queer folks in here also, although there’s no romance at least in the first  couple seasons.)

The Godshead Incidental -- A relatively new but very exciting and so far really enjoyable show!! Following a young woman who writes an advice column through her life in a familiar, and yet strange city where anyone might be a minor god -- your editor, your landlord, that weird guy on the street who was shouting about how he’s the God of Memory and you got into a fight with him and now you keep forgetting everything? Also, your apartment is full of pigeons now because you found out the aforementioned landlord is secretly the god of doorknobs and he’s panicking. Good luck! (Starring Ishani Kanetkar, aka Arkady from Starship Iris!)

Gal Pals Present: Overkill -- Madison, a middle schooler at a Girl Scout camp, agrees to play a game with a somewhat tastelessly bright-pink Ouija board. However, Madison doesn’t know that she’s a natural medium, and now sarcastic mid-2000s 19-year-old Aya Velasquez has joined the many ghosts who are for some reason haunting scenic Harding Park. Aya, however, will not rest until she can solve her own murder (and possibly get to know that other ghost girl a bit better, who says romance has to stop when you’re dead?). Absolutely hilarious writing of a narrator who is almost definitely wearing spectral Uggs during the entire show.

Dark Ages -- The Rivercliffe Museum of Mostly Natural History is one of the finest museums anywhere! Or it would be, if anyone ever actually visited it. Or maybe if the staff weren’t a disastrous and dysfunctional collection of criminals, weirdos, wannabe immortals, idiot bisexuals who can’t just admit they like each other, and one extremely uptight elf with no people skills. Also, it would probably help if the legendary and fearsome Dark Lord, finally returned from his millennia of dormancy to complete his prophesied conquest of the world, wasn’t hanging around watching the chaos unfold because they’ve got his crown on display. (Fantasy workplace comedy with a theme song that did not need to go that hard?)

Brimstone Valley Mall -- It’s mid-December 1999, and at one mall in South Central Pennsylvania, a group of demons are going about their evil work -- namely, working at various dinky kiosks and restaurants, hoping of achieving every demon’s dream of getting to work at Hot Topic, trying not to do too much evil because Earth is way more fun than Hell and no one wants to get promoted back home, and preparing for their band's triumphant opening performance at the upcoming Y2K party. Just one problem: their lead singer is missing. Another absolute masterwork from The Whisperforge.

Arden -- 10 years ago, Hollywood starlet Julie Capsom vanished into the woods of northern California, leaving behind a car containing a human torso that may or may not have belonged to one Ralph Montgomery. Now, private eye Brenda Bentley and reporter Bea Casely, both of whom were among the first at the scene and both of whom have their own very strong opinions on the case, are setting out to solve the mystery on their true crime podcast, Arden. Providing, of course, they can stop arguing with each other long enough to solve it. (Or, a not-really-parody-but-definitely-comedy “true crime” podcast where the crime is a retelling of Romeo and Juliet -- and even knowing that, it’s still a genuine mystery with twists and a surprise ending! -- and the hosts are wlw Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing. In other words, it’s perfect. Season 2 is upcoming soon and is adapting Hamlet!!)

Alba Salix/The Axe and Crown -- Another high fantasy workplace sitcom, this one a medical comedy about the titular not-very-personable witch who runs the kingdom’s House of Healing and the various shenanigans she gets into, between her somewhat scatterbrained sister and brother-in-law the king and queen and her assistants, an overly-whimsical fairy and a wannabe monk forced to do community service. The same feed contains The Axe and Crown, a spinoff set in the same world that manages to simultaneously be a sitcom about the staff of a local pub trying to stave off foreclosure and come up with schemes to beat their business rivals, and a heartfelt story about gentrification and recovery starring a gay veteran with PTSD? Which is possibly one of my favorite podcasts? (Also contains one of the most unbelievable crossover cameos possible: Leon Stamatis.)

The Adventures of Sir Rodney the Root -- Also a high fantasy comedy! When a witch transforms heroic Sir Rodney into a small piece of wood, his closest companion Sir Gilbert must set out to cure him by collecting several highly powerful and dangerous relics, accompanied by a snarky dwarfen thief, an imperious princess, a slightly creepy human child raised by fairies, a picky elf sorcerer, a dead unicorn possessed by the ghost of a stoner, and a bard who breaks the fourth wall too much for his own good. So far as I can tell, nobody is straight.

The Amelia Project -- A dark comedy about a secret organization that helps people fake their deaths. Which is honestly a pretty full summary, barring the two important points that 1. this show contains possibly the most continuity-warping crossover event of all time (it’s the center point of this absolutely chaotic diagram), and 2. in one episode Felix Trench plays a character named Bartholomew Fuckface Chucklepants Knucklecracker.

[longsightmyth]

Aaaaaaaaaand here’s what I’ve got so far for the current readthrough of ToD for fragments etc. Sharp eyes will note that it has taken me over a year and I still haven’t finished the reread. It’s just very bad, okay? Cut for dash mercy.

June 21, 2018 – page 4 

 0.61% "Apparently the problem with Adarlan conquering everything was not the conquering, but the fact that they had an evil dictator in charge.

I mean, in fairness, the evil dictator probably didn't HELP, but in the kind of person who considers conquering a symptom of BEING an evil dictator, so?"

June 21, 2018 – page 15 

 2.27% ""That Sartaq was here... they had to have known, then. Well in advance. That she and Chaol were coming."

That reads like I hit the space bar on my iPhone a couple too many times but I swear to you that is exactly how it's written in the book. I have changed NOTHING."

June 21, 2018 – page 16 

 2.42% "I'm also still confused about why the captain of the royal guard was sent as an ambassador instead of staying to administer the royal guard."

June 27, 2018 – page 19 

 2.88% "There are so many fragments, y'all. So many."

June 27, 2018 – page 27 

 4.09% "For once the angst feels earned here (we know that Nesryn cares and works for the wellbeing of Rifthold and her family and we've seen it). Do I wish there were fewer Drama Fragments? Yes. Still, I'm glad we got this bit from Nesryn's PoV and for once it wasn't All About Celaena OR A Boy."

June 28, 2018 – page 30 

 4.55% ""My Tumelun. The words told enough about the prince's closeness with his sister."

First of all, OBVIOUSLY. Second, there really is a way to say this as if Chaol is thinking it and not as if you are explaining to the reader. For instance:

"My Tumelun. They had been close, then."

BOOM."

June 28, 2018 – page 30 

 4.55% "I've harped on this before, and while it's permissible for Kashin in his grief and/or naïveté to have blind spots ("no one within our lands would be stupid enough [to murder Tumelun]") Chaol has no such excuse and neither does the narrative."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% ""...Aelin had hard lines that she did not cross. Killing or harming children was one of them."

Let me refer you to that time in Heir of Fire where she threatened to burn an entire city's population alive and we were from her PoV so we know she meant it and she SAID IT WITH A SMILE."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Also that time she threatened to burn up the population of Rifthold."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Oh yeah also that manor house she said she'd kill the entire population of if even a tiny word got out about her presence or previous presence there. That place had kids too. I'm pretty sure we saw and/or heard them playing in the yard."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Just because she hasn't threatened or hurt a SPECIFIC CHILD for SPECIFIC REASONS does not mean that she doesn't harm or (in fairness threaten to) murder children. That's just three examples off the top of my head."

June 28, 2018 – page 33 

 5.0% ""Had not even considered that the shadow of Morath might have already stretched this far."

Chaol, per Queen of Shadows the Valg, whose stated intentions are to destroy the world and rule the ruins, have been out and plotting since BEFORE YOU WERE BORN. You're an idiot if you didn't consider them using over twenty years of time to, oh, WORK TOWARDS DESTROYING THE WHOLE WORLD AND RULING THE RUINS."

June 28, 2018 – page 33 

 5.0% "Then again the series never considered that before this point either so maybe I should cut Chaol some slack?"

June 28, 2018 – page 35 

 5.3% "This reads like a dude wrote it, and not a dude who thinks women are actual people."

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% ""Until an unknown healer's daughter from Fenharrow [who had only been training for two years] was approached by healers old and young, who had trained their entire lives, for her advice and assistance."

Look."

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% "If this was portrayed as 'they needed somebody with a hella lot of magic and guided her through things' that would be one thing, but are you telling me this chick is in her second year at the magical equivalent of medical school and all of the surgeons are coming to her for surgery advice?"

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% "I think I commented on this last time but still:

"There were two such vials on the desk now, clear orbs atop silver feet fashioned after ibis legs. Being purified by the endless sunshine within the tower."

You'd think I made a mistake typing with my phone, right? Hit the space bar twice maybe and added an accidental period?

I did not. That's a direct quote from the book."

July 9, 2018 – page 44 

 6.67% "Are Renia and Hassar married or not, please make up your mind, book. Here Renia is referred to as Hassar's lover but I think later on it says wife without any marriage happening in between so like."

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% ""Chaol had barely slept.

Partially due to the unrelenting heat, partially due to the fact that they were in a tentative ally's fraught household, full of potential spies and unknown dangers- perhaps even from Morath itself - and partially due to what had befallen Rifthold and all he held dear.

And partially due to the meeting that he was now minutes away from having.""

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% "This is what happens when you rush books, don't listen to your editor, and use second drafts at best."

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% ""Chaol barely slept that night. It could have been the unrelenting heat, it could have been the spies and unknown dangers of the house - or of Morath. It could have been the news of Rifthold, and the lack of news that followed. It could have been all of it.

Part of it was definitely the anxiety over the meeting that had yet to begin."

**jazz hands**"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""They'd asked him about the butchering of the slaves in Calaculla and Endovier at dinner.

Or the oily one, Arghun, did. Had the prince been among Chaol's new recruits to the royal guard, he would have easily gotten him to fall in line thanks to a few well-timed shows of skill and sheer dominance. But here, he had no authority to bring the conniving, haughty prince to heel.

Not even when Arghun wanted to know...""

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""...why the former King of Adarlan had deemed it necessary to enslave his people. And then put them down like animals. Why the man had not looked to the southern continent for education on the horrors of the stain of slavery - and avoided instituting it.

Chaol had to offer curt answers on the verge of being impolite. Sartaq, the only one of them beyond Kashin whom Chaol was inclined to like, had finally tired..."

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""...of his older brother's questioning and steered the conversation away."

Holy mackerel is there a lot to unpack there, but first of all: Arghun for president, y'all.

Second, king is improperly capitalized there. Have fun with that.

Third, why is Arghun the oily conniving one for being like 'yo why the hell did y'all keep slaves?'"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "Fourth, it might be poor diplomacy on a technical level, but honestly Arghun and the SC contingent have all the power here. They don't have to worry about being polite, because what are Chaol and Nesryn going to do, leave? (they probably wish they would)"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "Fifth, Chaol, suck it up. You participated in and helped to continue a regime that not only practiced slavery but encouraged it. I have no sympathy for your hurt feelings about being called on it. Aren't you supposed to be anti-slavery? Shouldn't you be going 'look man it sucked and was wrong. I know that. You know that. The new king has ended the practice even if he apparently hasn't considered reparations.'"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "But no, Arghun is the one in the wrong here apparently?"

July 25, 2018 – page 57 

 8.64% "I'd forgotten Yrene's 'honey-colored' hands."

July 25, 2018 – page 66 

 10.0% "Still unsure why a medical professional won't just say the word penis."

July 25, 2018 – page 70 

 10.61% "Okay I got one mention of male healers existing. Apparently it's almost exclusively a female gift. Why? Who knows. Not the book.

Nothing mentioned about any cultural stuff surrounding it either."

July 25, 2018 – page 71 

 10.76% "I'm starting to wonder if the author just hasn't realized how self-aggrandizing things sound when written in third person limited or first person?"

August 26, 2018 – page 82 

 12.42%

August 27, 2018 – page 86 

 13.03% "Sure of course it's a weakness to care where the only other member of your diplomatic envoy is and if she's gone missing. Of course. It's obviously not just common sense or competence. Why are the 'politics' in these books such nonsense."

August 27, 2018 – page 87 

 13.18% "Other people have commented on this, but if everyone here is human why does the book keep calling everyone males and females."

August 27, 2018 – page 88 

 13.33% ""See how he trips over himself," Arghun muttered over Duva, her husband, and Chaol to say to Sartaq.

 That makes it look like Arghun is a married woman talking over her husband, when I know that Arghun is an unmarried man. You have to specify in this case. Or you could, you know. Name your characters."

August 27, 2018 – page 89 

 13.48% ""Kashin shut his mouth, ever the trained soldier.

And somehow Chaol knew-that fast-that Kashin was not being considered for the throne."

First of all, SOMEHOW? You detail why in the next sentence."

August 27, 2018 – page 89 

 13.48% ""...he seemed decent, though. A better alternative than the sneering, aloof Arghun, or the wolflike Hasar."

Interesting how being wolflike is positive when it's men but negative when it's women.

Also, Arghun for president. He's the spymaster dude who talks to the viziers. Obviously my vote goes to Arghun."

August 27, 2018 – page 91 

 13.79% "I hate how Chaol lecturing Nesryn about coming in late morphs into him patronizing her about how they're fighting to make Adarlan safer for her specifically.

Listen, dickface. She's the one who apparently had ROCKS thrown at her in Adarlan. Let her enjoy walking around safely.

Also I hate that he's lecturing her about coming in late."

August 27, 2018 – page 97 

 14.7% "So. I appreciate that Yrene tries in this one instance to be considerate of Chaol's wants/needs, re: his disability. I appreciate MUCH LESS that it is here specifically in an attempt to contrast Yrene and Nesryn. I wouldn't even be super mad about that except that Yrene is only considerate of Chaol and his wants/needs, re: his disability when Nesryn is around to be contrasted against."

August 27, 2018 – page 97 

 14.7% "It only counts as a character trait if it's consistent, and it isn't. Instead it's used as a way to shame Nesryn, when Yrene does the same and worse to Chaol multiple times but is excused because 'she means well.'"

August 27, 2018 – page 99 

 15.0% "This is SO STUPID she is a healer DOING HER JOB why does it MATTER if she goes into his bedroom?"

August 27, 2018 – page 103 

 15.61% "This is a tiny thing in the grand scheme but "pure as sea-foam" made me laugh because I live in Florida and there is a lot of sea-foam. Almost none of it is 'pure'."

August 27, 2018 – page 109 

 16.52% "I don't care how many times it shows up. I am going to mark The Hand of the King/ The Hand of Adarlan with a red tab labeled ASoIaF EVERY TIME."

September 27, 2018 – page 113 

 17.12% ""You must enter where you fear to tread."

Uh-huh."

September 27, 2018 – page 115 

 17.42% "So while I like the idea of this scene with Yrene and the other healer, the fact remains that it has taken more than 100 pages to show us something that is ostensibly a fundamental part of Yrene's character, and from what I remember we have precious few other scenes of it later."

September 27, 2018 – page 115 

 17.42% "The trait? That Yrene has a drive to help people."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""How many meals had he himself been positioned by the doors, or out in the courtyard, monitoring his king? How many times had he laid into his men for slouching, for chattering amongst themselves, and reassigned them to lesser watches?""

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "Okay first of all, as THE (singular, only) captain of the royal guard your place is the organizing, hiring, and inspecting of the Royal guard, not the actual guarding except for special occasions, at which point you would be with the king as the visible face of the king's protection."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "SECOND. You have never 'laid into' guards for chatting or slouching. You have in fact completely forgiven them for ABANDONING THEIR POSTS WITHOUT NOTICE because somebody else said it was fine. Your response? "Okay just don't do it again.""

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "I repeat, they abandoned their posts because a general from a conquered land told them it was fine, leaving their king completely open to attack, and you told them 'okay just don't do it again'"

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "Am I harping on this? ABSOLUTELY. Chaol's inner turmoil loses all emotional punch because he and the narrative are LYING to us. Instead of pulling my heartstrings, it just makes me angry.

This is also why Maas is the queen of the retcon, by the way."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""No sign - none - of any wicked force, whether dispatched from Morath or elsewhere. No sign beyond those white banners to honor their fallen princess."

I had no idea the wicked forces had a fallen princess, single separate two-sentence paragraph.

Also, it should be 'the white banners'"

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""There was no sign of wickedness, from Morath or elsewhere - no sign but the white banners that honored the fallen princess."

It's not HARD, book."

November 30, 2018 – page 121 

 18.33% ""A summer storm galloped in off the sea just before midnight."

This one might be petty and I freely admit it, but that's kind of a funky way to put that."

February 11, 2019 – page 121 

 18.33% "I'm back!

I'd forgotten how awful the em dashes were. Like, I remembered they were BAD, I'd just forgotten HOW bad."

February 11, 2019 – page 123 

 18.64% "Picturing Kat's face in the section with Yrene and the 10,000+ year old document being touched with bare hands is what keeps me going y'all"

February 11, 2019 – page 127 

 19.24% "For someone ostensibly skeptical, Yrene sure does take every illustration in the book literally instead of even considering the possibility of metaphors or, like. Science."

February 11, 2019 – page 129 

 19.55% "The irony of Yrene being better at situational awareness and planning what around her could be improvised weaponry than Celaena, who ostensibly taught her these things, is not lost on me.

It's lost on the book though."

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "Why does everyone in these books have a capitalized Heir"

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "Also, the Heir Librarian as a title sounds stupid (no that's literally the title, not even Heir to the Librarian or anything)"

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "All it would take was a week observing the library to know it never closes and Bob's your uncle the 'closing toll' of the library bell jig is up.

I'm just saying."

May 4, 2019 – page 144 

 21.82%

July 22, 2019 – page 145 

 21.97% ""Either your lack on consciousness during that initial healing kept you from feeling this sort of pain, or perhaps whatever this is had not... settled."

Or Sarah Janet needed More Drama."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% "I forgot that apparently the valg magic and therefore Chaol's injury persists because it's feeding on his self hate or whatever.

See kids, all you have to do is be happy and believe in yourself and your disability will go away."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% ""It was all he could do not to shrink from that frank gaze."

Why not her frank gaze? Like, it's not grammatically incorrect - the sentence before says she's staring at him, it's referring to a gaze mentioned before - but I don't think it's strong writing."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% "Have Yrene own her frank gaze or have Chaol associate it with her directly instead of disconnecting it. "It was all he could do not to flinch from her frank gaze."

YMMV I guess."

July 22, 2019 – page 147 

 22.27% ""Yrene's face was an unreadable mask that would have given Dorian a run for his money."

Maybe it's my own failing, but Dorian has never been described as expressionless or unreadable in my memory, or at least not enough to stick out."

July 22, 2019 – page 148 

 22.42% ""Since [Nesryn's] hair fell only to her shoulders, he had difficulty braiding it back"

French braids are a thing, even if I'd object to them being called French braids in these books."

July 22, 2019 – page 150 

 22.73% ""A land claimed by a conquering nation, yet loved and nurtured."

Not you too, Nesryn."

July 22, 2019 – page 154 

 23.33% ""There is beauty in my father's lands," the prince went on while Kadara ripped into that monstrous carcass, "but there is much lurking beneath the surface, too."

Sigh.

"There is beauty in my father's lands," the prince went on while Kadara feasted on the monster, "but much lurks beneath the surface, too.""

July 23, 2019 – page 161 

 24.39% "Love how Yrene explicitly says "add lots of honey" but is then judgy because Kadja added too much honey."

July 25, 2019 – page 162 

 24.55% "There's this thing we have where we consider the endurance of pain a virtue, somehow. Even if you agree with that, bad people can still have virtues.

Yrene starts rethinking Chaol's morality because he 'did not break' over the pain when her magic was trying to heal him.

Tldr: pain endurance is not the sole province of good people, and enduring pain doesn't make you good"

July 25, 2019 – page 164 

 24.85% "Why ARE the valg only trying to kill Yrene if she has the same healing gift as other healers?"

July 25, 2019 – page 164 

 24.85% "Okay also my disability is not Chaol's disability etc etc but the narrative is poo-pooing on Nesryn and Kadja for helping him into bed when he's so tired he can barley talk, because Yrene would have made him do it himself.

Like, honestly? That makes Yrene sound an awful lot like somebody who would go 'you're out of spoons? Do it anyway'"

July 25, 2019 – page 166 

 25.15% "Look y'all much as I dislike Yrene on a personal level she isn't WRONG for clearly having 'personal reservations' about Chaol's 'former role in the empire'.

He not only benefitted from but actively worked to keep the aforementioned empire in power. He got FRUSTRATED when the king wouldn't let him guard the king effectively. He wasn't even just some dude off in the hinterlands: HE WAS THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD."

November 4, 2019 – page 176 

 26.67% "In all seriousness what is Sarah Janet Maas' beef with the word 'the'?"

November 4, 2019 – page 176 

 26.67% "WHITE

FUCKING

HORSES"

November 4, 2019 – page 178 

 26.97% "How does Yrene have a good seat and yet bounce everywhere and keep grabbing the saddle horn"

November 4, 2019 – page 184 

 27.88% "Oh yeah. This part."

November 4, 2019 – page 184 

 27.88% ""The skin was leathery - as warm as her smile."

The one time you use 'the' it's in a place that detaches the reader from a living breathing human's human-ness? HER skin, book. HER skin."

November 4, 2019 – page 186 

 28.18% "The page (well, this and the one before) that made me hate Yrene."

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""She means well, my Yrene."

That doesn't matter when she literally asked a disabled man to help her with something and when he got there PROCEEDED TO LECTURE AN ENTIRE YARD ON HIS DISABILITY WITHOUT HIS PERMISSION, WHEN HE LITERALLY PHYSICALLY COULD NOT LEAVE.

And to the best of my recollection she never apologizes."

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""Her instinct is to teach other people" How lovely maybe she could do that without LITERALLY HOLDING A DISABLED MAN THERE AGAINST HIS WILL.

"But Myth, she didn't mean to! She just wasn't thinking"

LITERALLY MY POINT"

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""But Myth, the author didn't mean to make it like that" Maybe if she'd bothered ASKING a single disabled person instead of watching some youtube videos she might have LEARNED."

November 17, 2019 – page 190 

 28.79% "And look. I applaud people learning how to defend themselves and teaching others. HOWEVER. Chaol has only taught soldiers, and aside from that the idea that one or two sessions allows you to master several self-defense techniques is unlikely at best. It takes time, it takes repetition, and it takes someone who had more than one morning's instruction herself.

Just saying."

January 4, 2020 – Shelved as: assassin-rolls-do-it-better

May 30, 2020 – page 191 

 28.94% "It’s hard to tell with this author what distance we are in the narration. Feyre and Yrene both make snide little comments about people not caring or not doing something (in Yrene’s case, Chaol not smiling at her after her despicable behavior, in Feyre’s case Nesta not getting her a gift). I begin to suspect we aren’t supposed to see this as the character commenting on the event but the narration."

May 30, 2020 – page 191 

 28.94% "UNFORTUNATELY the books are written in close POV’s, Feyre’s in first and Yrene’s and Chaol’s in third. The result is that whatever the narration says is coming from the character.

This is a long way to say that Yrene continues to be terrible."

May 30, 2020 – page 193 

 29.24% "I don’t have enough orange tabs for this"

May 30, 2020 – page 194 

 29.39% "Yrene says here “[until that moment] she hadn’t felt like a barnyard animal” and I am not an expert but that seems like a Bad Thing to have about one of the only black women you haven’t killed off, Book."

May 30, 2020 – page 195 

 29.55% "“Did I do something to you today?”

*squints*"

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "I’m not going to pretend that Nesryn’s reaction here is perfect, but the book is trying to pretend it’s terrible and it’s not? She’s excited that Chaol can ride, she talks to Chaol directly about it, and immediately accepts that he can and says excitedly that maybe they can go see her family together. The initial disbelief might be disconcerting for some people, but she does several things Yrene does not."

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "As I said, she speaks directly to Chaol about his abilities (something Yrene doesn’t do), asks if he wants to do something together (permission is something for OTHER PEOPLE to Yrene, apparently, at least in regards to revealing someone’s medical information and literally moving people without their permission) and is immediately EXCITED that he can do something Chaol has specifically said he missed."

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "For the record these are all low bars to clear, but for all the book tries to contrast Yrene and Nesryn’s reactions to Chaol’s disability and how he works with and around it in Yrene’s favor, NESRYN IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CLEARS THE BARS.

But I’m supposed to be upset that she’s surprised that Chaol rode when he hasn’t been able to lately? Through a city that he’s never been to before? Without telling her?"

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "Not only are these two the only members of an embassy, they are romantically involved. OF COURSE SHE’S SURPRISED ALL OF THIS HAPPENED WITHOUT HER KNOWING ABOUT IT."

May 30, 2020 – page 198 

 30.0% "At least she apologizes FINALLY but also says that it’s because so few people come in with his injury that she wanted to show her students.

So then you ASK, Yrene, what is this bullshit?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "“She hadn’t considered - his feelings. That he might have them.”

Excuse me, what?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "Yrene is worried that if she leaves the ‘rift’ between her and Chaol will never be repaired because “Healers and their patients required trust. A bond.”

It’s too bad you have repeatedly fucked that up with unprofessional, unthinking, and downright cruel behavior then isn’t it, Yrene?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "I’m sure some people reading this statuses will think I’m being too harsh, but let me explain: Yrene is a healer who has dealt with this kind of injury before. That’s why she was textually assigned to Chaol. Yrene is not a family member who knows nothing of medicine or patient treatment and is feeling her way through learning how to respectfully assist someone with a disability."

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "Yrene is a PROFESSIONAL, she keeps telling us. She is The Best. She has dealt with this before.

There is literally no excuse for accidentally doing this. Had Yrene been a new healer tossed into this because she just happens to have magical power enough for it and was still a student, I would buy that she maybe hadn’t had the experience to think about it. If she was portrayed as a consummate professional who..."

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "...did not care about her patients’ feelings so long as she healed their bodies, I would buy it.

She isn’t. The book keeps trying to tell me she is The Best because of temperament and skill and power, but it fails to realize that doing so puts Yrene in a terrible light because all of those things mean she should KNOW BETTER."

[leam1983]

Cyberpunk 2077 Thoughts

Having perused Dark Horse Books’ The World of Cyberpunk 2077 over the past few days, I’ve gotten a better feel for the various basic hooks that structure V’s inception as a protagonist. The short of it is the Polish wizards are on the right path to nailing Pondsmith’s treatment the same way they nailed Sapkowski’s works.

Consider the following as half a brain dump, half a series of prospective spoilers, and also half projection, so either skip this, find some other entry to read, or come back to this come late November.

I know I mentioned three halves, but it’s late and I don’t give a shit.

I’m serious - DO NOT PRESS ON IF YOU’RE THE TYPE TO BLOW A GASKET IF YOU’RE INADVERTANTLY SPOILED. 

The latest Night City Wire as of August exposed three incipient “life paths”, or starting branches of V’s path. I’ll tackle my personal narrative approaches to them in the order of my choosing.

Nomads: CP2077 is set in a world where much of what we understand to define a family has been blown up, tossed around by climate change and nuclear fire and then stitched back together using grit, resourcefulness and the last dying embers of human decency. Nomads are less a group of people defined by blood relations and more a cadre of individuals that share something more significant than mere genes. It might be a common history, a set of shared hardships, a yen for similar automotive and engineering-related projects - whatever it is, that something pulls people together in ways Corpo rats and street kids will never experience.

This seems to define even the average Nomad’s degree of education. Surprisingly, Nomads are the most well-read group in Coronado Bay’s greater area, some caravans reportedly including entire RVs packed with books. Nomads generationally elect teachers and record-keepers and seem to care for those cultural remnants of the old world, before Pondsmith’s paranoid alternate sixties kicked off more than a century’s worth of technological progression and rampant dehumanization. To a Night City native, a Nomad’s speech patterns appear precious and uselessly florid, while they might appear almost normal to us - maybe slightly touched by the fact that Grandpa Joe or whatever really wanted you to have your Greek classics down before you were old enough to repair your first CH00H2 carburetor on your own.

That new, mega-clustered version of family matters immensely to the Nomads. You identify to yours the same way Orcs in Shadow of War might refer to their clan, or the same way a Scottish clan might design specific visual cues identifying its members. In normal circumstances, Nomads live, thrive and die in service to the clan - and the opening segment for V’s Nomad origins suggests that something happened to his clan. They’re gone, or so the narration says, without going into further detail. Is V responsible? We don’t currently know. As it stands, however, he is a lone Nomad in a clan of one, and soon finds himself pushed out of the Californian wastes and into Night City’s neon-drenched streets.

Seeing this, I considered the narration as an admission of guilt on V’s part. He feels responsible, and hopes that grinding his way to success will in some way atone for what he’s done. Consequently, my Nomad V would be as gruff as could be, but as moral and upstanding as the setting allows. He considers himself as having been invested with an example to set, and would intend to set his sights on more than just filthy lucre. Honest filthy lucre is what matters to him, if that concept even is possible: he might deal in unsavory types and illicit activities, but he always does so with a certain moral rectitude - as a tough and gruff, lean and stringy type you can occasionally catch in his battered Thornton pick-up truck with his feet up on the dashboard and a dog-eared copy of Plato’s Republic in hand. Jackie honestly wonders how he can put up with that Greek pendejo’s endless words and the lack of scrolling animations, while V keeps his Kiroshi optics’ News ticker locked onto grassroots Leftist RSS feeds that stoke a bit of an ignored Rockerboy ethos in him. Quoting Marx in Night City might feel like trying to teach lab rats in the finer points of string theory, but it at least feels genuine to him, compared to the predigested sociopolitical pap Militech, Arasaka and their ilk are more than happy to spew on the airwaves. 

There’s a lot to be pissed off about in Richard Night’s failed utopia, a lot of fat cats to gut and buildings to burn. Still, he leaves the glowering act and the churning rage to Johnny Silverhand’s imprinted ghost. Being more of a down-low, gun-toting choomba than a classic Street Samurai, Vincent “V” Carson thinks first and strikes second.

Vinnie isn’t much for electric guitars and anarchy in the UK, much less in the Free State of Southern California; but he does love the occasional Leonard Cohen ballad or the occasional shot of Johnny Cash’s melancholy. Having picked up something of a Northern Texas drawl while cruising, he might feel like Harry Dresden’s Good Ol’ Boy cousin, magic tricks here pushed aside in favor of a measure of dermal plating and a good ol’ fashioned twelve-gauge and revolver combo. Not being much of a techno-fetishist, he considers his optics and his skull jack as being begrudging concessions to an era that looks down on fully “ganic” types. Having grown up with TV serials and the occasional visor-based Braindance all depicting cyberpsychosis as something vile that utterly dehumanizes its sufferers, he’s naturally wary around anyone who seems a little too giddy with the prospect of taking a few scalpels to perfectly decent muscles and bones.

His Thornton is where most of his Eddies go, and yes, he’s named his truck Suzie. Suzie’s done right by him, and he’ll do right by her - unless someone else with a pretty smile and a working moral compass makes him swoon.

Street Kids: if you weren’t taught on the highways or in corporate arcologies, odds are you became a positive blip in an otherwise grim statistic, one of the myriad fucked-up kids raised by other fucked-up kids with more seniority than you. With no roads and paid-for nannies, you survived off of grifts, grit, violence, deceit, smarts and gumption - and that, in its own screwball way, creates its own blood ties. You’re wise by Heywood’s standards - streetwise, that is - and you speak the back-alleys’ lingua franca of threats, insinuation and casual intimidation like no other.

If only Jackie hadn’t fingered that Rayfield, huh? This beaut could’ve been paydirt! Well, at least for a week or so, judging by the fact that hundreds of car thefts are reported across Night City on a daily basis. At least, Dean - who also goes as “V” - got to make a new friend while out in the pokey, and managed to shake a few proverbial trees... They’ve got a short-lease in with Trauma Team’s frequency and could maybe hook themselves up with a sweet finder’s fee for anyone who’s on the verge of death at the hands of the city’s Scavengers...

Little does V know, that’s selling Trauma Team as well as their clients painfully short. Shows of gratitude don’t mean anything if you’re not packing the right social status. He barely remembers his birth parents as it is, and grew up the fifth grubby prospect of one of the Valentinos’ “school clubs” (hence the nickname) - where the points of study refer to the proper observances to be held in Jesus Malaverde’s presence, intensive Chicano and Spanish immersion, as well as the handling of common types of weaponry.

Vincent and Dean would be likely to shoot one another, if placed in the same room. One clings onto nearly-lost value systems, while the other commodifies what can be discarded like so much flesh - only inasmuch as his efforts to pacify his unofficial five or six abuelas force him to forego extensive modifications. His knives and wrist-mounted data port are his main tools of the trade, although Dean keeps his hacking creds along the bare minimum. Why bother, when melting an ATM’s ICE wall and whacking the cops with a baseball bat is all you need? There’s a type of gun for nearly anything else, if someone knows where to look...

Dean has no last name, and is consequently registered as “Dean Smith” in the city’s Census records. That doesn’t suggest, however, that he wouldn’t want to make one for himself. As he’s less focused on the city’s legends than on its kingmakers and pawn-movers, Dexter DeShawn strikes him as someone to emulate, watch and learn from - all with a decent degree of caution.

Being on top matters a little less to him than eventually pulling Heywood’s stings. With a little fear and a lot of persistence, Dean “V.” Smith knows that one day, he won’t go hungry on a weeknight. To that end, he’s certainly a hearty eater, here paired with extensive free-weight training regimens and the use of anabolic stimulants. Oh, sure, he’ll speak of family and blood like the best soldier festooned in Santa Muerte visual codices, but his friend Jackie’s got a mind like a slow and steady steel trap.

Either Dean blows his new fellow Street Samurai out of the pond, or he does. Unlike Jackie, however, Dean isn’t realistic about it. Friendships are a rare gift in Heywood, if not the rest of Night City, and Dean’s convinced that Jackie could conceivably look past his final betrayal.

Corpo: nowadays, we’re mostly familiar with the idea of one-percenters creating a bubble of affluence for themselves. Boarding schools, private villas, prebooked vacations across the globe’s priciest spots, access to the hottest trends on the minute of their inception - what this tends to forego is the level of social disconnect that’s required in order to stay relevant. We’re only just waking up to the consequences of letting an aging, crusty first-generation Yuppie be crowned the ruler of the free world, and even someone who’s behind on their Bret Easton Ellis could tell you that Donald J. Trump is a sociopath and a narcissist.

Take that mindset, and cultivate it into an ethos that’s taught to children from a very early age - children who live, eat, shit and breathe in accordance with their parent corporation’s tenets. The more placid, mid-tier lifers in the genre are called sararimen, in reference to William Gibson’s use of the term to designate low-level company workers in Chiba City. A bit like Shenzhen’s factory workers and execs, everything in a corpo’s life is in service to the corporation.

In Night City, as of 2077, two major players have installed this culture of total obedience in their roster. Their names are Militech and Arasaka. One is a juggernaut in the field of military-grade personal defence, the other has a wider grasp and reach, but is more fragile. Arasaka owes that fragility to the last fifty years having involved its re-establishment and reconstruction. Fifty years ago, Night City’s Corpo Plaza was blasted open by a thermonuclear discharge that sent the Japanese giant packing. The charges had been set by three Edgerunners: Rogue, Morgan Blackhand and Johnny Silverhand - accessorily a well-respected Rockerboy and front-line member of the band SAMURAI. Only Rogue survived that fateful night, or so the street lingo goes, having gone on to start a legitimate consultation business as well as a fruitful career in the hospitality business. Her bar, the Afterlife, is Night City’s hotspot for every techie, script kiddie and accomplished cyber-spelunker.

Our gal Vivian knows this. She knows this, because Vivian “V.” Banks lives two lives.

In one of them, she’s a lean and hungry Junior Executive in Arasaka’s Counter-Intel division. In that line of work, you either fuck someone’s prospects or protect your own, or ensure that no up-and-comer just out of the company’s Law School program manages to push you off the board. She knows full well that in centuries past, corpo-speak was made up of mild euphemisms that at best referred to destroying a rival’s prospects or lifelihood. Taking a life was something that required careful deliberation, especially when tossing a fat severance bonus into an aging CFO’s three-piece pockets and letting your erstwhile rival snort cocaine off of the rolling hips of Tahitian dancers was so much cheaper...

Nowadays, zeroing someone is commonplace.

You’re born for Arasaka, and chances are you’ll die for Arasaka just the same. Viv’s killed, lied, cheated and even stole her way to her position, remorse being this vaguely churning sense of coldness in her gut that keeps one-night stands coming in and out of her bedroom. She only remembers her parents as being credit-chip enablers and personal enhancement drug addicts, cutting ties with them so completely on the day of her official hiring that it felt more like a tacit understanding.

On most days, sex and booze keep the cold at bay. On most days, Vivian Banks is a class-act of a sociopath. The stronger she gets, however, and the more paranoid her targets become - which reinforces her own paranoia. Before long, playing the part of one of Arasaka’s several poisonous flowers won’t work anymore.

Unfortunately, she trusts no-one. No Fixer could put her in contact with any hacker she’d trust, no rando fresh off the street with a retro-tinted National Arms plinker would satisfy her. To climb up the ranks and maybe share tea with Old Man Saburo himself, she needs a spotless performance record. She needs skills.

More importantly, she needs a reputation. That means leaving Arasaka Tower and mingling with the experts in their own field - and it means filling out her back book of successful hits. The drinks at the Afterlife are decent enough, but what she’s after is an official in.

If she can get to Rogue, or maybe even hook up with a ripperdoc not bought and paid for by the company, she might be able to score both new skills and increased performance...

If it were as simple as slitting Janet’s throat in HR and diving her way to an orgiastic performance review quite innocently left on the department’s server, she would’ve done that already. Viv is my obvious Pure Stealth build candidate, my main-line hacker and would-be engineer with a thing for black power skirts and designer offensive augments.

With that said, we’re months ahead of schedule, all the good shit’s already come out, so we’re stuck playing the waiting game...

What are your own character or build ideas for Cyberpunk 2077?

[shinneth]

SUF as a whole just left me with an empty feeling.

I feel you there, anon. In Dreams aside, I could take or leave the rest of this series (and in most cases, leaning well towards the latter sentiment). 

But I guess that’s to be expected when 90% of SUF focused squarely on Steven’s PTSD and need for therapy and the many, many red flags shown as early on as the beginning that signaled his eventual breakdown to where he ended up in the climax.

Especially with the fanbase itself constantly screeching that Steven needs therapy, Steven has PTSD, Steven’s gonna corrupt, et cetera… like, it was all laid on far too thick. So when we got to Growing Pains, it really didn’t move me like it did so many others because it came off as such a “No shit, Sherlock” moment for me when Priyanka finally addressed the underlying issues the show itself really didn’t even bother trying to be subtle about.

Don’t get me wrong; a lot of people who have suffered (or are presently suffering) from the same problems as Steven irl have been helped a lot by these kinds of episodes, and I do appreciate that.

But from my personal standpoint, yeah… I knew from the start that Steven’s underlying issues alone were not gonna be enough to sustain a full series, and sure enough, it wasn’t. We got to see some bits here and there with the other characters, but we also had a few choice characters be really shitty people in season 5 that never got properly addressed before it concluded, and with the timeskip in SUF, all of that just got handwaved off as “dealt with offscreen”, which is the laziest BS ever. 

And worst of all, at the end, they really didn’t stick the landing well at all. I’ll at least say SUF’s resolution wasn’t the mega levels of offensively terrible as Change Your Mind - but then again, it’s hard to out-do giving totalitarian space dictators with countless lives lost under their watch a fucking FACE-TURN out of nowhere. 

Like, really, the Diamonds’ presence (White especially) in SUF actively made my viewing experience even worse towards the end. Yes, I should be glad they’re establishing that the Diamonds are at least starting to use their powers for good and rebuild some of the lives they ruined.

But, y’know… doesn’t change the fact that they’re all responsible for multiple counts of global genocide. Like, any living creatures native to their colony planets? They’re still fucking gone. And the Diamonds themselves just come off VERY unnatural as “nice” guys - and in many cases, they’re even creepier now than they were as villains. Good god, White’s blubbering in the climax was fucking insufferable, though. 

Partially I think this comes from SU being a “kids show” so there’s this pressing need to end things as cleanly as possible. I’m more miffed that in the end, Steven still got pretty much everything he wanted.

They had some admittedly good set-ups to Steven’s growth, like having him accept that people grow up, change, and move on with their lives. We see the clear evidence that Steven’s got an unhealthy clinginess towards his human friends - and Connie’s no exception. 

And considering they took the time to establish that:

Connie has friends other than Steven. She gets along with them just fine, so it’s not like she’s totally lonely or isolated without him.

Connie is ambitious with many goals and aspirations when it comes to her education and potential career paths. She’s shown to have put a lot of thought into her options and at no point comes off as feeling pressured by her parents or friends into this.

Connie knows she has to work hard and often to achieve her dreams, and despite that rigid lifestyle, it doesn’t seem to bother her in the least. That would imply she really wants to reach these goals she set for herself, whether or not Steven’s in the picture at all.

Connie and Steven’s dynamic is a far cry from how it was when they started out in the original series. You can tell Steven has no clue what Connie’s talking about when it comes to her goals and just plays along, pretending he understands anything coming out of her mouth.

Connie, despite what her speech would lead you to believe, has been every bit as insufferably dense as the gems in SUF when it comes to Steven’s issues. In Bismuth Casual, Steven’s very specifically-worded concerns were misconstrued as a fear of skating (or his inability to, whatever) - and in the end, they just became Stevonnie rather than properly talked things through. You know, something PERIDOT 100% did in the prior episode.

Connie is very firm about wanting to live her life as herself. She’s not against being Stevonnie from time to time, but like hell does she want to be Stevonnie for the long term. 

Connie knows marrying in general at her age is a stupid-stupid-stupid idea, even if it is Steven. And considering her well-established commitment to her studies and reaching her lofty goals, Connie - at least at the time - seemed to know a relationship with anyone just wasn’t in the cards for her at this point in her life. There’s no need to rush that shit, and she won’t compromise her life just to give her needy friend this thing he wants that he doesn’t even fully understand truly is. 

Or, you know… just have Connie backpedal hard on a good chunk of that and date Steven so that he won’t become a monster again. I’m mostly kidding with that - but by kissing his monstrous self and that triggering his restoration, then soon later we see that even though Steven and Connie can only have a long-distance relationship at best, she’s dating him right now anyway even though this needlessly makes her life way more complicated than it needed to be - like seriously, how can I not take that as Canon Connverse being founded on the condition of “Okay, if it’ll keep you from losing your shit, going pink, and turning into a monster, I’ll date you”?!

And in the end it yet again gives Steven more-or-less exactly what he wants, even if it isn’t something he really needs. 

I’m glad Rebecca clarified that Steven would still visit Beach City often, because I had a very hard time buying him just traveling by himself on the road. And maybe it would have worked better if he was just doing it short-term to “find himself” or something along those lines, but nope! They’re basically saying this is what Steven wants to do.

And honestly, even that is dampened with his clearly-stated intention of visiting Connie way more than he intends to visit the gems. Even though Connie’s gonna be busy. With college.

This just… wasn’t a good ending. It had plenty of good moments - his goodbye to Bismuth, Lapis, and Peridot especially was very well-executed and the closest this finale came to drawing out any real emotion out of me. I loved the scene of Steven giving Greg his room; that was adorable. The last meeting with Tsundere Jasper was amusing.

But everything else… ehhh.

I mean, what can we really take from this season that I haven’t already outlined? The biggest takeaways were the plot points everyone saw coming a mile away that weren’t even executed all that well. 

In Dreams, as great at is was, might as well have not even happened - because what really carried over from that episode through to the end? Even though Peridot was the only one who got through to Steven, legitimately comforted him and addressed his fears, and the episode for once ended with Steven being happy with no underlying concerns about his problems - immediately he’s back to being awkward and depressed and frustrated by Bismuth Casual.

And I get that shit like trauma shouldn’t be resolved so easily, but for what In Dreams accomplished, I expected there to at least be a semblance of progress. Steven’s known since that episode he can hang out with Peridot and talk to her about whatever without needing a reason to do it, but he never ever takes her up on that again. 

So again, what was the point? 

You really get the impression that the quality of writing took a backseat just to emphasize the symbolism of an issue people commonly have, but SUF’s execution stretched my suspension of disbelief far beyond its limits. 

And nothing stretched that farther than Connie’s insufferable fucking speech in I Am My Monster; that pretty much completely made In Dreams feel like it never really happened in SUF’s continuity. 

In some ways, I just prefer to believe In Dreams was just a dream itself. An AU offshoot in SUF itself. Considering it’s so ridiculously good compared to the other nineteen episodes and by far the most pure and wholesome, maybe that’s the best way to see it. 

In Dreams was too good for its own series. That’s literally the only thing I personally took from SUF as a whole (at least in terms of lasting impact). 

So yeah, I guess for only one episode of twenty to really hit me in the feels, “empty” is an apt way to describe the series, anon. 

Seriously, if I didn’t have my own massive SU-AU to mess around in and do things properly, this probably would have upset me more. 

Instead, I just chuckle at Rebecca’s Monster Steven and raise her to what I’m putting my version of Steven through in my current story. Where I’m pulling all the stops to make other characters matter even though the stars are undoubtedly Peridot and Steven. 

And I’m actually making actions yield serious, lasting consequences.

(yeah, part of me wishes Jasper wasn’t revived - or alternatively, have Steven accidentally shatter White Diamond instead of Jasper since he came awfully close in canon

or even better, shatter Jasper and revive her, then accidentally shatter White and not be able to revive her since Steven used up ALL that diamond essence on Jasper…

yeah I’m kind of a monster)

Your pain is mutually felt, anon. So I’ll prescribe you endless refills of better-written and better-executed SU fanon to heal the emptiness SUF left inside you.

[holidcy]

i am actually embarrassed to say how long this intro too me to write out ? so im not gonna say it ! it’s not like it took be 3 hours or anything 👀 . and for what ? idk because this intro is a mess . but anyways ... i’m mia , i’m a whole twenty years old which really just feels like a glorified teenager but whatever , we’re not here to talk about that right now . we’re here to talk about my lil baby holly . guys she is literally the sweetest human ever ? but also ? to sensitive for her own good and really the good of those around her ? very happy feet energy coming form this girl . but without further ado , below you can read up on holly & if you wanna plot give this a like . also my discord is 𝖒𝖌𝖐'𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖊#9789 if you wanna plot there or just generally chat !

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐇

full name: holiday elena addams nickname: holly ( she’s basically turned this into her name , not one really calls her holiday ) , holls , elle ( by her parents ) birthday: june 3rd birthplace: chicago , illinois hometown: highland park , illinois ( although the family home was located in highland park her parents would in chicago and holly even attended private school in chicago ) residence: new york city , new york nationality: american ( est. 1999 through birth )  ethnicity: english ( maternal & paternal , 50% ) , polish ( maternal , 25% ) , spanish ( paternal , 25% ) religion: catholicism  orientation: heterflexible ( she claims being straight but in all actually she’s not closed off to anything despite not having much experience outside the opposite gender ) languages spoken: english ( fluent , first language ) , spanish ( fluent , second language ) , polish ( conversation , third language ) , mandarin  ( conversational , fourth language ) . father: leandro oliver addams  ( 49 years old )  was born & raised in chicago , illinois by a politician / businessman & a philanthropist . leandro went on to take a little bit from both of his parents as he is a highly esteemed business tycoon as well as being regarded as one of the most charitable men in the world .  ( relationship:  there has never been a day that has gone by where the two didn’t get along . if there is anyone in this world who gets holly it is her father . truly , daddy’s little girl . the two of them are as thick as thieves . ) mother : susanna renee addams ( nee daniels ) ( 48 years old ) was born & raised in long island , new york . the daughter of a hedge fund investor & a stay at home mother . susanna grew to be an amazing cosmetologist and which the help of her father’s amazing business mind she was able to start up a salon in new york city . she gained the most devoted clientele , loving every second of her work . she took a break for almost a decade before deciding to return to the beauty industry . today she has salons across the globe in chicago , los angeles , toronto , london , and new york city .  ( relationship: susanna often had to play bad cop when it came to parenting and because of this the two butted heads quite often whilst holly was growing up . despite this , her mom is her role model and the two have always had a friendship that underlined their mother - daughter relationship .  ) social class: upper education: attending new york university ( s. 2018 ) she spent her first year of university at usc , she’s majored in creative writing at both universities  career: author ( her book is a coming of age mystery called privilege that she’s recently admitted to writing the full book during a coke binge ) , internet personality , philanthropist , socialite , and student  notoriety: being apart of the prominent addams family , amassing over 32m followers on all social media platforms , publishing a new york times best selling book at the age of seventeen . weight: 120lbs height: 5′5″ hair color: brown ( with blonde highlights ) eye color: brown positive traits: benevolent, high spirited , extroverted , romantic , honest , affectionate , intelligent , friendly , ambitious , passionate , approachable , charming  negative traits: immature , vain , garrulous , critical , sensitive , stubborn , inattentive , naive , sarcastic , obsessive , insecure , impractical , irritable likes: anything strawberry flavored , flowers , driving fast , pink , watching the first snow fall , birthday parties , lips gloss , netflix , sunkissed skin , dogs , peanut butter , agatha christie , redecorating , driving with the windows down , long plane rides , denim jackets , taco bell , orange juice , makeup , sports , female empowerment , online shopping , fresh berries , roller skating , photography , writing , tea dislikes: liars , driving in the snow , coffee , having no siblings , deep water , bad drivers , body shaming , pizza , hateful people , being rushed , cuss words , repetition , disloyalty , being alone ,  horror movies , dentists , silence , cheap perfume , criticism , the unknown , traffic , wine , poptarts ,  small spaces ,  hobbies: reading with a hot cup of tea , video editing in the back of a car , smoking before bed to help fall asleep , going out to eat with her parents , napping , hiding alcohol in her bedroom , painting alternate universe cartoons , attending big soirees , stashing drugs in jewelry boxes , sleepovers with her closest friends , talking the dogs on walks , early morning instagram lives , old disney marathons , scribbling in a notebook while snuggled up in bed  chara inspo: olivia baker ( all american ) , leila faisal ( all american ) , tan france ( queer eye ) , elena gilbert ( the vampire diaries ) , dorothy gale ( wizard of oz ) , lucy pevensie ( chronicles of narnia ) , lara jean ( to all the boys i loved before ) , elle woods ( legally blonde ) , jeffree star , jenny humphrey ( gossip girl ) , cassie howard ( euphoria ) fashion inspo: vsco girls , bella hadid , megan markle , rihanna , selena gomez , perrie edwards , emma watson aesthetics: ghostly sounding music playing as background music to a pen to paper , eyes widened at the chance to do something positive , the annoying beg for approval , infectious energy , a pout so crippling , the swell of regret as you sneak a bottle into your bedroom , tanned skin tousling with silk sheets , big eyes threatening to shed a tear , the zip of a pink mclaren 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐄𝐑𝐀

holly is the only child to leandro and susanna addams ( the addams family 👀 ) . she was born with not just a silver spoon but the silver spoon . the addams are a prominent american family , that are regarded as one of the leading industrialist during the gilded age . in short her families been billionaire rich for a long time and are known as one of the families to bring wealth to the city of chicago . she was incredibly spoiled growin gup as you would assume but by the grace of her parents teachings she was anything but a brat . she had being filthy rich and being an only child working against her and she still managed to be the most giving and down to earth child . from a young age holly would give her toys to other kids during play dates & ask her parents if she could donate the things she didn’t use anymore to the less fortunate . 

although her father had a busying career as he took over the family company just a year before holly was born , but in spite of that he always made time for his family . luckily her mother had stepped away from her career soon after meeting holly’s father , so she was able to be a stay at home mom and be there for every important moment of holly’s life . by the way , susanna was straight of of a real housewives show only just an overall better person ? they had dinner together as a family every night , threw parties at the house for every big moment in holly’s life . everything from birthdays , graduations , academic honors , to becoming captain of the cheerleading team and everything in between warranted a celebration in the eyes of susanna and leandro . 

she grew up extremely sheltered , mostly because her parents wanted to keep their little girl well their little girl . they didn’t want the world to taint her . she went to church every sunday and even wednesday nights , if she wanted to have a sleepover it was always at the addams household , and her parents met the parent/s of every kid she befriended growing up . 

despite their attempts her parents couldn’t shield her from one thing . getting her heart broken and at sixteen she experience her first bout of heart break . the boy she’d falling head over heels for just stopped talking to her one day , with no rhythm or reason he moved on to another girl with a blink of an eye . she couldn’t understand why ( pst ? it was because she slept with him and that was all he wanted to begin with ) someone could be so cruel an play with someones heart like that . it was her first experience of how the world could really work and in all honesty , holly couldn’t handle it . she got her hands on her parents bar room in the house and would literally drink every night before bed so she could sleep . 

this soon turned into her going to parties , promising her parents "i just want to hang out with my friend , i wont touch any alcohol” and her promise was always kept , she didn’t touch alcohol at these parties instead she smoke weed and on the chance one of her friends had it on them she’d do a line . 

this double life , if you would , didn’t lead to any real issues , at least not while she was in highschool . she still graduated top of her class  and even got accepted into her dream school university of southern california .  it wasn’t until she was a semester deep in usc that she realized she was losing control over her life . maybe it was a mix of her derailing mental state , being separated from her parents , and the los angeles social make up . whatever it was holly wasn’t too far gone to see she needed help . 

instead of going back to school the following semester holly checked herself into rehab . her parents freaked out , unaware their daughter had touched a substance a day in her life . it was a long process and took alot of owning up for her own wrong doings but after a couple months she checked out of rehab and flew out to her parents .

she had decided upon leaving rehab that her best bet directly after getting out would be to surround herself with people who loved her . during her short stint in california her parents had made the temporary move to new york city so that her mom could focus on the salon in the city , so holly transferred to new york university to continue her studies and be around her parents .

she lives under their roof , despite being more than self efficient thanks to her multiple branches of income including her trust fund but she figures there is only so much more time before they leave to go back to chicago that the more time she spends with them the better off she’ll be when they leave the city . speaking of , she doesn’t know her parents will be leaving the city in the next few months . on a positive note they plan on paying the rent in the apartment they live in for her until she finds somewhere she likes better .   

today , holly is a sober ( she smokes weed here and there but it’s not a addictive so it fine 🙄 ) and happy . although due to how sensitive the girl is anything could make her snap , she’s incredibly fragile guys . like capable of having a mental break at any moment but like we ignore it because if we bring it up it’ll happen . wooo . 

not so fun fact ? when she has an off day she’ll literally sit in her room holding either a bottle she had hidden in her walk in closet or stares at the coke she keeps in her jewelry box . she hasn’t used any of it but she tells herself its there as a reminder when really it’s a crutch for if she ever needs it again , she has easy access .

secret time ? she pushed her ex boyfriend of a balcony while she was drunk . this happened before she went to rehab ... perhaps you could say it was what prompted her to realized her crazy ass needed to go to rehab . ummm , it’s not acceptable and she knows this but one thing we all need to know about holly is that holly + substances + being upset = toxic shit that is always the equation and there is never another answer to it . 

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

a girl squad or just a squad in general really , give my baby her lil group of people please

maybe a fellow chicago native ? who she dated in highscool and you know is the one who dropped her like a hot potato after she slept with him

ex hook ups 

frenemies but more like a blair & lil j circa season 1 situation ? 

someone who just doesn’t like her , but like she does everything she can think of to get them to like her 

an unrequited ting were he’s leading her one so he can sleep with her ?

or maybe someone has a crush on holly but she just doens’t have the heart to tell them she’s not interested so now here she is kissing and OMG YUP NOW SHES SLEEPING W THEM ...

someone she races ? she loves cars especially fast ones

a we hang out and watch/obsess over sports but the whole time i can’t help but think about how hot you are kinda vibe ?

someone who is v bad for her and they know it but she doesn’t care because she like them so much & he likes her too but knows he’ll hurt her ?!

someone who sees that she might be teetering on falling off the wagon ( maybe they were over her place and saw the stash of substances all over her room ), maybe they’re trying to get her to stop smoking weed bc they feel like for her that’s a huge gateway  

smoking buddies where they literally just hot box cars together and munch on taco bell talking about why sound vibrates & shit

someone who she used to party with & be wild with ( could be from chi or nyc because she visited alot as a kid ) and now they feel like she’s a lame bc she’s sober

she’s a good influence on them ? they’re a bad influence on her ? ride or dies ? partners in crime ? only friends when there is a substance involved ? sugar baby vibes ? unlikely friends ? flings ? crush ? friends with benefits ? everytime they are around one another its a fight ? someone she lets crash at her parents place sometimes ? someone she’s backstabbed but like she got tricked into doing it ? anything fluffy , anything angsty ... reall just anything you got , i’ll take ! 

[hilllsnholland]

Money Can’t Buy You Love - 1

Pairing: RichKid!Tom x Reader (A little Enemies to Lovers)

Y/N has worked her whole life to get into the prestige university of her dreams. Nothing can stop her, right? Maybe Tom Holland, son of billionaires and the poster child of privilege, who has made it his mission to woo the ‘Scholarship Baby’.

wc: 2.7k 

Warnings: None?

A/N: I haven’t written a fic in so long but I’m obsessed with RichKid!Tom so here is all my love and creativity to consume. This chapter is to set the scene but everything else.. oh boy get yourself ready for angst and smut :)

    The bitter cold had rendered Y/N’s fingertips useless as she fiddled with her bag to open the frozen zipper. She lost feeling in her fingers and her face was numb from the snow. Of course, her first day would be a mess. The first day at a new university, a very prestigious one at that, and she couldn’t even get her backpack open. Her whole life has attributed to this moment and it was becoming a disaster. After years of getting top marks in all her classes and her scholarships finally coming through, she was able to get into the school of her dreams. She had to start late in mid-January, but she was happy to even get accepted. What was a drag though was walking through the horrid winter snow or rain that has been plaguing the city and her life apparently.

   Y/N rushed through the building doors to get away from the weather almost blindly as she barely avoided bumping into other students passing by, her hands moved insanely fast to gain heat back into her tingling fingers. She was in her own world though, her mind focused on getting to class and memorizing the first three chapters that she read before arriving here. This was an opportunity of a lifetime and she was not going to mess it up. Y/N was so engrossed in her own thoughts she didn’t even notice that she ran right into another student, clearing his coffee straight out of his hands.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” The boy yelled which finally snapped Y/N out of her thoughts.

“I’m so, so sorry.” She squealed and froze in place. Her eyes were locked onto the blonde haired student that was giving a stare that could kill. He looked so familiar but Y/N could not place where he was from. “Here. Take this.”

   Y/N fished in her jacket pocket and pulled out the few pounds she had and handed it to the boy. He looked at her cockeyed as if she had two heads or something. He scanned the money and just shook his head at her.

“You don’t-”

“Sorry! Have to go to class.”

   Without another word Y/N kept her previous pace and raced to the lecture hall. The blonde haired boy watched her with narrowed eyes and then said something to his friends. Y/N didn’t see it though, she was busy trying to remove the whole interaction from her mind. This school was full of geniuses, future politicians, and socialites. Anybody who was even remotely going anywhere in life was at this school and that last thing Y/N wanted was to piss one of them off. She just had to stay invisible until she graduated. Easy enough. She had done it her whole life.

   Finally, Y/N reached her Political Science class approximately five minutes early, just how she likes it. Y/N found her spot in the middle of the room and started to set up her laptop to take notes. Thankfully all the buildings had premium heating at her backpack had finally opened. Her luck was turning already. Y/N turned on her laptop and for a second she longingly looked at the screensaver, a picture of her with her family. A little ache rose from her chest but she pushed it down so that she could focus. She missed her family, but she’s here for them. Once she was graduated then she could go back but not yet. The past few years had only pushed her to come here, get the education she needed and finally help her family out. It was hard, really hard. After what had happened-

“Anyone sitting here?” A voice said from beside her which shook her from her thoughts.

“Uh no.”

   Y/N didn’t even look up from her screen as the figure took a seat next to her. It wasn’t until she smelled the thick cologne of someone of status that she looked away. Y/N had worked in a department store before, she knew that smell. It was Versace and the price tag was hefty for any normal person. She turned to see who was sitting next to her and her heart nearly stopped.

“You-you,” Y/N stuttered for a second.

“Me what?” The boy chuckled.

“You- I like your cologne.” Y/N choked out and felt her face warm up with embarrassment.

“Thanks.”

   He smiled and returned back to his laptop. Y/N was stunned though. It was Tom Holland. The Tom Holland. Son of billionaires and basically the poster child for sophisticated living in England. Y/N blinked a few more time to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. He looked better in person than he did in the tabloids. He was remarkably good looking with big brown eyes and curls that were hidden underneath a beanie. Y/N turned back to her laptop and tried to look as normal as possible. As if she wasn’t just studying him like a piece of meat.

“You didn’t have to give him money you know,” Tom says abruptly and she gives him a quizzical look. “Harrison. The guy you knocked the drink out of. He doesn’t need your money.”

“Oh.”

   Y/N suddenly remember why the blonde haired boy looked so familiar. He was another socialite, Harrison Osterfield, and seen mostly around Tom’s group of upper-classers. A thick red covered Y/N face as she realized she had given pocket change to a guy who could probably buy everything she’d ever own and still have some left over to buy a couple islands. She had not even noticed that Tom was standing there when the event happened. How she missed him, she had no idea. He looked like a model.

“I just felt bad for knocking it out of his hands.”

“Oh, so it’s pity money?”

   Y/N furrowed her brows at Tom, was he trying to insinuate something? Y/N didn’t think what she did was rude, but it was all too embarrassing for her to come up with a good excuse. If anyone else spilled her coffee she would have appreciated the gesture. Maybe it had to do with the fact that all the people here are handed stacks of cash, not a few coins and paper money to satisfy the price of a drink.

“No-I just don’t- I- ” Y/N stammered as she went back to her laptop. “I wanted to be nice. I didn’t see anything wrong with what I did.”

   Tom laughed as his composure mimicked realization. Y/N looked at him, studying him top to bottom. She had read the tabloids about him so many times that she could not believe he was real. The stories of epic parties, drunken escapades, and too many hookups for the media to count. Y/N had always thought the tabloids were trashy attempts to slander someone’s hard work, but maybe they were right about this one.

“Oh, so you must be one of the Scholarship Babies?”

   Tom laughed again, almost as if he was talking to a child. Y/N thinned her lips into a line and tried to ignore him. She hated being a scholarship student because of those very names. People would only see it as a handout, not the fact that Y/N gave up many days and nights to achieve such honors as a full ride to the university. Something people like Tom would never understand. All he probably had to do was ask his parents to write a check and he was admitted on spot. Y/N felt the pit in her stomach fill with jealousy as she stared at the poster child of privilege. She tried to give him her best attempt at a bitch face but Tom kept looking at her, his gaze unmoving even as the Professor entered the room and started writing on the chalkboard.

“Don’t be ashamed. Scholarship Babies are a hot commodity around here. Who else would do the work for the Uppermens?” Tom was trying to joke but Y/N wasn’t having it.

“Maybe if you Uppermens actually worked hard in your life you’d see that us ‘Scholarship Babies’ have more to do than be your bitches.”

   Y/N was seeing red as she hissed her words at Tom, who was now taken aback by the sudden aggression. He turned to the Professor and ignored her for the rest of the class time. Y/N tried to suppress her fuming anger so that she could concentrate but her mind was fury from his words. She knew he was joking but she had heard those mockeries many times before. She knew the elite students would take advantage of the scholarship students by either bullying them down or using them as their own personal assistants. The other scholarships students Y/N knew had fallen into those traps but she wasn’t having it. That is why she wanted to stay invisible, get high marks, and graduate as soon as possible. So Y/N set aside her annoyance and focused on the lecture.

   The rest of the class went by quickly though. It was the first day so it was just the syllabus and some awkward stories made by the Professor to seem relatable to his young adult students. Quite average. Once the Professor excused the class, Y/N was hurrying to get out of the room. No way did she want to have another talk with Tom Holland so that he can mock her for her unbranded clothes or lack of beach houses. Y/N placed her things away and left the room as soon as she could, not looking back at the elitist that was watching her.

   Y/N found herself in the hallway surrounded by other students. All of them were wearing designer clothing, Cartier bracelets, technology that she had never even seen before. It was a lot to take in. Before this, it was all average people. Now it seemed like she had entered an alternate world where everyone but her had shiny hair and bank accounts that could rival Greece. Y/N wanted a hole to swallow her up and take her away from all of it so she started speed walking away from everything. She did not know where she was going, her next class was soon but only God knows where it was. She just wanted to be moving so that no one could take a critical look at her.

“Are you here on a sports scholarship or something?” A voice said behind her. Y/N turned to see Tom racing right behind her. She kept her pace to get away from him but he followed.

“No.” She said flatly.

“You sure can run fast. You should join the Track and Field team if you have time.” Tom responded as he quickened his pace to catch up.

   Y/N stopped in her tracks and turned to him quizzically. He was basically chasing her down the corridor like a crazy person. Well, Y/N was the first one to start running but he was definitely running after her. Tom fumbled behind her to come to a stop and tried to catch his breath from chasing her. Y/N studied him once again to try to understand what he was deal was. They had spent no more than five minutes next to each other and this guy was already on her ass. If that didn’t read stalker then she didn’t know what did.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asked dryly.

“You never told me your name, unless you want me to call you SB for the rest of the term.”

   His eyes were sincere and his smile created soft creases by his lips. He looked like the most average boy you’d find in England. Y/N knew better than that though. The pictures of him looking absolutely trashed on drugs. The different women he was seen walking out of clubs with. The one incident where he crashed a jet ski into a clubhouse. Those were dark truths that the media exposed. Y/N could not fall for the sweet brown eyes. She could not falter her gut feeling for the way he looked at her.

“It’s Y/N. What’s SB?”

“Scholarship Baby of course.”

   A groan escaped Y/N lips as she heard it. He made it sound like a term of endearment but Y/N hated it more than anything. She truly would rather be called a bitch than an SB at this point.

“Don’t call me that.” Y/N snapped.

“Why not? You are one aren’t you?”

   Tom seemed to not acknowledge the problem with the name and Y/N did not want to waste her time trying to explain it to him. She assumed he was a person who could only see the world through the lens of his lifestyle. Posh, lavish, and full of booze. Y/N scoffed and bitterly turned away from him.

“Yeah I am, but I don’t like being called one. Like you’re a spoiled rich kid, but you probably don’t want to be called one.”

   Driving that distance. Pushing people away. That’s what Y/N was good at. Tom hummed at her response and shook his head. He was somewhat numb to her insults but he still squinted his eyes at her like he was holding back words. He brought his designer watch up to his face and looked at the time then looked back to Y/N.

“I’d love to chat with you more but this spoiled rich kid has places to be. It was nice meeting you Y/N.” Tom moved to go past her but stopped right before their bodies pass.

   For a brief second their eyes met and there was a flush of varying emotions. Y/N could not tell if she was more annoyed or turned on by his fierce brown eyes. He was spoiled, but he was still hot. Tom moved a swift hand from his bag and slipped it into Y/N jacket pocket for a brief second then walked past her. Y/N spun around and reached into her pocket, feeling slips of paper between her fingers.

“By the way, Harrison wastes his money on dumb shit all the time. Don’t pay him back for anything.” Tom chuckled as he walked away and disappeared into the crowd of people.

   Y/N fumbled the slips of paper out of her pocket and looked at the contents that he dropped into her possession. For a second, Y/N thought she had a stroke. Tom had dropped £250 into her hand like it was pocket change. Y/N searched the crowd to yell at him but he was gone. Y/N threw the money into her bag and stomped off to her next class, fuming again like earlier. She did not want to be paid off like some charity. She didn’t need the money she had a job. Tom Holland had basically handed her pity money. Would the money help out with groceries? Hell yes! But did she want it from him? No.

   Y/N felt the twist of jealousy relish in the pit of her stomach again. Tom could just throw money around like no problem, who does that? Spoiled people of course. She knew she was being bitter but it still pissed her off. The way he could walk around like he owned the damn school- well he might as well since he has the money but that's beside the point. Y/N loathed the thought him treating her like a charity project. What deepened her hatred was the fact that she was absolutely enthralled by him. His curls, his crooked smile, the way his eyes lit up when she snapped at him. They had only spent no more than fifteen minutes together and she could list the top ten things she hated and liked about him. Y/N grunted to herself as she tried to dissect the spoiled rich kid from her mind, but he was infecting her thoughts like a parasite. As Y/N sat down in her Cultural Anthropology class she sighed, finally at peace. She peered around the room and felt safe in a different classroom again. But only for a moment.

“We got to stop meeting like this,” Tom said as he took a seat next to her.

This is going to be a long semester 

///

taglist: @mrs-hollandstan @tomhollanddtho @parkertrashsquad @julytwentyninth1924

[oh-boleyn]

te para tres

words: 3662, language: english. jane & kat (kind of mom/daughter relationship)

author’s note: I wanted to keep multichapters on my ao3 but I actually kind of like this fic, and so I thought to post it here too! anyway it is also in ao3

tags: jane & kat - centric, kat is homeless, jane is trying her best, canon abuse/non con, tw abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Families of Choice, Light Angst, pregnant!jane, sickness

Las tazas sobre el mantel

Moving into London was quite a thing. Something Jane had waited so long to do; she could almost not remember how much she dreamed when the opportunity first presented to her.

Having been born in Wiltshire, and later moved to Somerset meant that her life usually revolved around being in wide open spaces, with a lot of green grass and sometimes even animals. Small towns where everyone knew each other. Nothing compared to a big, global city like the capital of England.

Her apartment was quite small, but still enough for her. Jane had luckily secured herself a job in a fashion magazine, as a photograph designer, which meant that all she needed for an apartment was space for herself and any clothes she might need to recycle or fit for the next session.

Something she didn’t expect was seeing a young teen living in the street below her apartment.

Obviously, she knew her social status wasn’t the one everyone had. Her father, a college professor, was wealthy enough to grant her a good education and loan her money until she can get back on her feet. Investing almost all her money into coming straight to the city after breaking up with her boyfriend with whom she shared a house back in Devon wasn’t her wisest decision. But seeing such a young girl living on the street frightened her to no end.

(…)

“Hey, would you like to eat something with me?” Jane asked after the third day.

She made sure to always leave money to the girl, who could usually be found singing or drawing near the underground station during day hours. But having a little spare time and already began to take a liking to the girl made her want to offer just a little more.

The girl did not react, just watched her wide eyed, without moving.

“I would prefer not to.” Her voice is so small it’s barely audible for Jane.

It comes as a surprise, taking into consideration that she would hear her singing loud and clear for the past days, but now her voice sounded nothing like that.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry.” The older smiles.

She put some money into the hat that sat at her feet and started walking away.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

(…)

Catherine of Aragon is a stern, tall woman.

She is the chief editor of the magazine, and the tickling of her shoes can be heard from miles away. Her way to hold herself is just as stylish and elegant that Jane doesn’t think anyone in Somerset, or Devon was ever a half of it.

She smiles and nods at Jane, and it feels like a blessing has been given.

(…)

That night, when returning to her apartment, she makes a stop at the first fast food chain she can find, buying something for herself and to the girl. Jane goes back as soon as she can after that, trying to get the food to still be hot. The girl is sitting outside an empty store, with the art supplies already saved in her backpack.

“Hi, I brought you food.” Jane says.

“That’s really kind.” The girl smiles, taking the paper bag.

“I’m Jane.” She introduces herself.

“Katherine, with a K.” The younger mimics a smile, which is not really convincing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Same to you.”

(…)

The next day Katherine is no longer where she was the night before, but the paper bag is still there, left totally untouched. It shocks Jane, who thought that it was a good gesture to begin with. Having no time to get offended, she keeps walking until arriving at the magazine.

The camera was already on its tripod, and the models were getting changed into their outfits for the day.

“Hi Jane!” Anna of Cleves, the photographer, greeted. “What’s up with that face?”

“Nothing it’s just… I brought food for a girl living in the street, and I saw it today and it was untouched.” She explained, getting out of her coat and hanging it.

“How do you know it was left untouched?” Anna questioned. “Did you go through the garbage?”

“No!” Seymour sounds offended. “I mean maybe… It’s just I saw the bag there and I wanted to know if she ate.”

Anna chuckles. “Have you considered that maybe getting food from strangers is like… rule number one of what not to do?”

“But it’s different she can trust me.” Jane tries to clarify.

“I know that, and you know that, but she doesn’t. Maybe next time buy her something closed, that you couldn’t possibly poison.” Cleves offer. “Now, how about we use this leather jacket but with that skirt?”

(…)

“Hi Jane.” Katherine smiles at the woman when she is passing through the street.

“Hi Katherine, I bought you this, I don’t know if you like it but I love them.”

Opening her backpack, she offers a box of Cadbury cookies. Those are nowhere near nutritious, not that fast food is, but the cookies can’t be even considered a meal.

“Thank you so much.” The girl says, opening the package and shoving a cookie on her mouth.

Jane can’t contain her smile, and takes the chance to say: “No problem, the offer for lunch is still up, just for your information.”

Katherine seems suddenly frightened, but keeps the smile on her face. “I would, but I’m busy right now.”

She shows the pencil in her hand.

“It’s alright, another day.” Seymour is about to leave when she decides against it. “Do you have a phone?”

“I don’t, sorry.” The teenager answers sadly.

“It’s okay…” She searches for a paper, writing down her address. “If you ever need something, just come.”

The girl gives a puzzled look. “Thank you, I will.”

(…)

Next morning is quite chaotic, and she doesn’t make it on time to check on Katherine.

First, she can’t get up from the bed, exhaustion keeping her down even when she doesn’t know why. Then, once she does get up, a dizziness invades her, almost making her go back to bed and call in sick, except that she can’t do that, not in a new job at least.

Jane tries to make herself the time, but she can’t. That doesn’t stop her from worrying about the girl for the rest of the day.

(…)

A week goes by and Katherine never comes, but still she slowly acts a little less nervous and automatic around Jane, even accepting Starbucks food that is well closed and some water bottles. Jane is sure the girl doesn’t trust her enough yet, but things start getting slowly better.

“Morning Katherine.” Jane greets, smiling.

The girl smiles back. Her smile never gets to her eyes, instead it looks quite sad. Just polite. Jane would probably also describe it as anxious, every time she hears her own name, she straightens the spine just a bit, trying to look taller or intimidating.

“Good morning, Jane.”

“I brought some stuff; I was wondering if you like hot chocolate? It’s getting pretty cold with the winter around the corner.” She offers Katherine the trail, which contains two hot chocolates.

Something she learned was that, if she let Katherine choose her drink, she would drink it. But if there was ever the slight difference between a cup and the other, she would just gently decline, justifying that she already ate or any other excuse that Jane was sure it was a lie.

“It’s not cold yet.” Katherine says, choosing a cup. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Jane takes a sip from the other cup, and just as she finishes it, the teenager takes a sip from hers.

“I brought a muffin too. I have to go to the office, but we can split it in halves, if that’s okay.”

“It’s not necessary. You don’t have to do that.” The younger replies, but Jane just offers it anyway.

“I have to go now, have a nice morning.”

“You too.”

Jane starts walking, getting away from Katherine.

A part of her wishes she could do more, but the younger girl just won’t ask for anything. Kat didn’t even always eat the food she was offered, and Jane was afraid of just giving the girl money. She heard it all, how you should never give money to someone in the streets because they will waste it on alcohol, or drugs. But Katherine was so amicable, she wouldn’t do that. Jane was almost sure. Almost.

It was the great barrier she was afraid of. Jane could still not be sure of what to do with a girl who she met just a week and a half ago, even the desire to help stopped her to just blindly trust the teenager.

She got to the magazine, just to find Catherine Parr already buzzing on caffeine.

“Morning Seymour!”

“Good morning, what have you drank?” She watches the woman’s hand. “Or how many of those?”

“Three? Maybe four? I don’t know. Aragon wants the photos for the article today, as soon as possible.” She explains.

“I sent them yesterday.”

“I know, but… She might have decided to change the whole article and we need more photos.”

“What? You know, never mind, I’m going to text Anna.” Jane takes her phone. ”What is the new article?”

“Blue, the new black.”

“Okay.” Jane finally takes a breath. “What are we supposed to do with the coats from the last cover?”

“Uh, keep them if you want?” Catherine questions, confused. “After all we are meant to do like those photos never existed.”

“Do you really think I can keep them?” Jane asks, thinking how good those could be for Katherine.

“Yes, keep them. In case someone needs them, I take the blame, but please send her the photos.” Parr begs.

(…)

The photos resulted in a quick shoot, consisting of a navy-blue background and different blue coats, going from light pale to dark night blue. The only problem consisted in a piece they weren’t sure if it was a blue green colour or turquoise. She hoped to have made the right decision for Aragon.

Going back home was harder than the shoot itself, since she had her hands full of the coats they didn’t need anymore. It varied from bring pink, to some black ones. Some of them were heavy, winter ones while others were perfect for summer rain.

“Katherine!” She exclaimed when she saw the brown locks of her hair.

“Jane…” The teenager went to help her.

“I have all of these from work, I thought you might like them.”

The girl shifted uncomfortably, her eyes looking at the ground. Jane noticed that she bit her lip. It was a sign that she was baffled about something.

“You don’t have to take them all, but I wish you would choose one. It will give me peace of mind.” Jane says, hoping not to sound as if she is trying to manipulate Katherine in any way.

The girl inspects for a second, before grabbing a black one with pink buttons: “May I keep this one?”

Jane nods.

(…)

“Hi, Edward.” She smiles at the camera.

Facetiming past midnight with her brother had become more and more common in the last days. Jane was not used to being far from her siblings, nor the rest of the family. Still, even with her strange headaches and fatigue, life in London was something incredible. The city had so much life, and history. Even so many curious tourists helped the atmosphere. It pained her to not be with her family, but her new life was joyful nonetheless.

“Hi Janey, tell me, how is it going?”

“Quite good. I’m so tired though.”

“Tired? How many parties did you attend?” He questions, half joking.

“Funny.” She retorts. “I have just been going to work and to check up on Katherine.”

“Just work? Lame.” Edward mocks his sister. “Who is Katherine?”

“She is a girl living down the street… She, uhm, literally lives on the street.”

Ripping the band aid off quickly was the best thing she could do.

“You are checking up on a girl living in the street?” He sighs. “You are the only one who does it…”

“Don’t say it as if it’s something bad.” Jane returns.

“It’s weird.”

“It shouldn’t be.” She is quick to defend herself.

“Chill out Jane, it’s not that deep.”

“But maybe it is.” Jane can feel her how it’s getting harder to talk without starting to cry. “I don’t understand how much it is… She doesn’t even want to accept food. Yesterday I left her a coat and I’m almost sure she left it anywhere because she can’t accept anything. For goodness sake, I don’t think I have heard her say any other thing that ‘it was not necessary’ or ‘thank you’! So maybe it is that deep.”

She takes a deep breath, while Edward tries to excuse himself saying: “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it meant that much.”

“Yeah, you didn’t. Good night.”

Jane doesn’t wait for him to say something, instead just hangs up the call.

(…)

Next morning was just horrible. She feels nauseous and her brain is almost exploding, but she still gets up and prepares herself for work. Walking through the streets is harder than she can remember, and panic creeps in when there is a street with a bloody name she never saw.

“Jane?” She feels a voice calling. “Are you okay?”

Everything goes slowly blur, finishing in Jane summoned into a total darkness.

(…)

Waking up in the hospital is not something she was waiting for. Her fatigue is obvious when she wakes up, and her faded memories give her the anticipated news of what she already knew. She had fainted. Jane can barely keep her eyes open when the doctor enters the room, trying to get all the information he can.

He also informs that Katherine is outside, and she was the one who called an ambulance. Jane couldn’t possibly be more thankful for the acts of the girl, but in her dizzy state words can’t come out of her mind as she wanted them to come. Instead she keeps just answering questions.

The only moment that stands clearly in her mind is when the doctor starts talking about blood test results, words like anaemia and HCG are glimpses that she catches until the three words that sat heavy on her stomach.

“You are pregnant.”

(…)

When the older one is released, it’s raining outside. They, or rather Jane, decide to take a cab home. Once there, Katherine just simply says goodbye and leaves, walking back to the place where Jane usually found her. Jane notices the girl doesn’t have the coat she left her the other day.

“Katherine!” Jane screams. The girl turns around.

“Go to your house, it’s raining. You have to take care of yourself.”

“Come with me.” She asks. The girl opens her eyes wide.

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. It’s raining.” Jane says as if it wasn’t obvious.

“I know, I’m used to it. Go to your house.” She wraps her arms around, making a barrier between her and Jane.

“Please just come. Just one night.” The teenager clearly doesn’t want to, but Jane can’t leave her alone. “Or I will stay here.”

Jane knows inside her it is wrong. She shouldn’t be trying to manipulate the younger into doing something she doesn’t want to, but the raining and the news is too much. She feels so on edge, that if she said that bringing Katherine in was a selfless act, that would be plainly lying.

“You can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

“I say the same to you.” Jane takes a breath. “Please.”

“I can’t go in there.”

“Let me take you out for dinner then.”

Katherine seems to think about it for a moment, before nodding. Jane takes the lead and starts walking to a diner a block away. The teenager doesn’t say a word, instead just walks as fast as she can, and lets Jane walk where she is less likely to get damp with the rain. Once they arrive, they settle for a table near a window.

“You can ask for whatever you want, take this as a thank you for helping me today.” Jane speaks calmly.

Maybe saying that can make Katherine know she earned it, and the girl will actually order something.

“It’s not necessary.”

“But I want to. I don’t know what could’ve happened to me without you.” The older smiles.

“Probably someone else could’ve helped.” Katherine smiles timidly.

“I’m not sure, people here in London don’t seem quite amicable.” Jane shrugged.

“In London? Do you come from somewhere else?”

“Yes, I lived in Devon with my ex before moving here.” Katherine opens her mouth when Jane finishes talking, but quickly shuts it. “It’s okay if you want to ask questions, if the question is if the baby is his, the answer is yes.”

The teen gives a sympathetic look, but talks: “I have always lived here, in London, except for a summer I spent in my step-grandmother’s house in Sussex.”

“That sounds nice.” Jane says, but quickly regrets it when the younger flinches.

“Do you mind if I order pasta?” Katherine questions, voice small.

“No! No problem, I think I will do the same.”

“I haven’t had pasta in a long time, I think since I was thirteen.”

“How old are you?” Jane wonders, hoping not to sound rude.

“Fifteen, I turn sixteen in two months.”

The older is lost for words, this girl is just a kid. She probably hasn’t even finished secondary school, and is living all by herself apparently. Under this new information, Jane can totally see it now. How small her contexture is, not grown up, the way she sits, her nails bitten down. There are a lot of indicators of her age, and Jane feels more uneasy than before.

“I know I look older; I’ve been told that.” Katherine breaks the silence, uncomfortable.

“No, it’s not that.” Jane snaps out of her thoughts. “I was just processing today’s information.”

Katherine nods, clearly uncomfortable, but for Jane’s luck the waiter quickly arrives with water and asks for their orders. The teenager asks for plain pasta, until Jane reassures her it’s okay to ask for more. She changes it just to add some sauce that doesn’t sound too gross, and the older happily asks for the same. They stay a moment like that, with Kat just taking in the restaurant.

If she said she remembered going to one like this, she would be lying. After her mother died, her memories are plagued by being in her house, alone with Henry Manox. The summer spent with her step-grandmother is just a vague memory of something her brain tried to forget. Then it’s all about living in the street, trying to live by with what charities offered and painting and singing to anyone who could lend her some money.

“In case you want another coat, I still have the rest in my apartment.” Jane says.

“Why are you doing this?” Katherine asks, manners forgotten. “What do you want?”

Jane purses her lips for a second and then releases them: “I don’t want anything, but I am worried about you. I don’t want to see you suffer.”

“I’m not suffering.” The teenager responds, even if she is not sure. “I don’t need your worry.”

Jane is lost for words.

“I’m sorry for being rude.” Katherine murmurs.

“Don’t be. I get it.” Jane takes a sip of her water. “I just want to do something good. I had a hard time with my ex. We didn’t break up in good terms, nowhere near it. I needed help and even if my family loves me, they weren’t there for me. I wanted to just try and help someone, and I thought you would want help.”

The younger takes a moment before talking. Jane looks vulnerable, something adults usually don’t look. A part of her wants to just believe this is a lie, and nobody is going to just help because they had a rough time. All the kindness the woman showed her is enough to prevent her from just storming out of the room.

“I don’t want help, but I appreciate it.” She concludes, before putting a smile. “What is your favourite colour?”

Jane laughs at the lightness that question brings to the conversation.

(…)

Jane takes her time, and decides to have the baby. She is not ready, and she knows it. Utter fear rises from her every time she thinks about it, but still she manages to make that decision.

Her neat calendar starts to become full of the different doctor appointments and parental classes. She tries to get her hands in any parenting book she can find. Her usual morning coffee changes for tea, and she changes her diet trying to avoid the morning sickness.

The only thing that remains without a change is worrying about Katherine, who starts taking dinner once a week with Jane, and asks her about how the pregnancy is going. The teenager is the only one aware of it, and it brings joy to the older having the chance to talk about it.

(…)

One-night Jane wakes up abruptly, a tremendous noise ringing in her ears. She realizes it’s the buzzer and moves to the intercom. 

“Hello? Who is downstairs?”

“Katherine.” She says between sobs. “I’m sorry to bother you- “

Jane talks before she can finish: “I’m going to get you wait a second.”

She throws a coat and goes straight into the elevator, once she gets out the first thing she notices is Katherine with tears streaming down her face. Jane almost runs, and when she opens the door, the younger clings to her.

“I think I saw Manox.”

Jane starts drawing paths on her back, trying to get her to calm down.

“Do you want to go upstairs, sweetheart?”

Katherine finally nods.

[gwentoryfics]

just a thought

"Do you ever think about alternate realities?"

"Sometimes, I guess." You shrug a little as your eyes lazily scan the smattering of stars overhead. You're snuggled up under a blanket, lying in your driveway - which just so happens to be the perfect spot for stargazing, since you live in the middle of nowhere. Hongseok, one of your closest friends, is sprawled out next to you, drowning in his own mountain of fleece.

"How different do you think things would be? Like if you could visit an alternate reality, what do you think it would be like?" Despite the weirdly existential tone of the conversation, his low voice soothes you, just loud enough to be heard over the melodic chirping of crickets.

"I'd like to think that I'd be a scientist. Or an astronaut. Something really cool like that. Like maybe I'd be worlds smarter than I am in this reality, and I could pave the way to saving the world from climate change or something." You giggle a little, but your chest tightens. It would be really amazing to live that sort of life, but that's just not what you're destined to be. Not growing up in this small town, with so little opportunity for education. You'll probably never leave this town, and it's bittersweet to know that you'll always have a home here.

Hongseok already knows your feelings about wishing you could get out. He knows you can't afford college, no matter how badly you'd like to go. You've talked about it many times before on nights like this. Something about watching the galaxy unfurl across the sky just opens you up to connection with him and the universe.

"I think I might be a singer." Hongseok peels his eyes away from the sky to get a glimpse of your reaction, and you're sure you don't disappoint.

"You? A singer? Mr. Tone Deaf As All Hell?" You burst into a fit of laughter. "I can hardly imagine."

"Anything's possible, right?" He joins you in laughter, well aware of his incredible lack of musical talents.

"Yeah, I guess so." There could be endless alternate realities existing parallel to your own, and who knows what they could hold. Your entire life could be different. Maybe you live in a city. Maybe your parents are rich. Maybe you're an orphan.

You turn to look at Hongseok, whose face is outlined in shimmering moonlight. You can't imagine a reality where he wasn't by your side.

"I hope that in every single alternate reality that could ever exist, you and I are still friends. There's no way I'd be able to get through all the bullshit without you."

Hongseok raises an eyebrow at you. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Well I mean it." Usually you'd joke with him about the way you make fun and tease, but you feel the sudden need to really get your feelings out and let him know that he's important to you. "You're my best friend, and I'd really be missing out if I didn't have you."

Hongseok watches you for a moment before looking back up at the sky and scooting closer until he's right up next to you. "That's really nice of you to say."

"Are you cold?" You chuckle, wondering what he's doing. "Why are you so close?"

"No, I- ugh. Um," he stumbles, and you realize something is up. "Do you think there's an alternate reality where we'd be more than friends?"

You immediately look over at him, caught off guard by his question, but he keeps his gaze trained on the stars.

"Just a thought," he mumbles, shrugging minutely.

"Do you want there to be?" You smile, your cheeks growing oddly warm as you consider it. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it before. You know him better than anyone and the connection you have is unreal. And he's really, really attractive. You're not an idiot. You know you'd be a good match. You just didn't think he'd feel the same way about you.

"I think there probably is." He sort of doesn't really answer your question, but that's okay. You've always been able to see right through him, and you know exactly what he's getting at.

You prop yourself up on one elbow, hovering over his face so that he has to look at you. His eyes grow wide, like prey caught in a trap, and you can't help but think his shyness is adorable. "What do you think about making that our reality?"

He's a sputtering mess beneath you, clearly not expecting this turn of events. "What? What do you- what do you mean, our reality? What is that even-"

You cut him off with your lips against his in a chaste kiss, the light of the moon making you too bold for your own good. But it's exactly the push you needed.

Then you part, and you lie down again, the stupidest grin on your face as you shrug and say, "You know. Just a thought."

He doesn't say a word, and he doesn't have to. You've flustered him, and it's going to be a bit before he can form words again.

Besides, the way his hand snakes under your blanket to intertwine his fingers with yours tells you all you needed to know.

universe challenge day 1: bias

[lilflowerpot]

Important topic: Galra rebels besides the Blade. I love the Blade, but it bothered me that the only choices the highly selective specialists or the empire. There had to be more discontents than that. What about partisan movements, guerillas, individual saboteurs? Or Galra who simple live in outskirts and try to have as little to do with the empire as possible. The historian in me is not satisfied with this idea of only two faction.

((cont.) after having seen my post about how ridiculously long this reply had already become) I’m so proud. Can I make suggestions? Underground Railroad style smuggling of rebels/prisoners. Conveniently mixed-up paperwork. The number game, one of the most efficient ways to free prisoners is to inflate death tolls so no one notices escapes or so your productivity quotas are lower. Giving resources: food, medicine, licensing that oppressed groups  cant access. People aren’t either monsters or enlightened they can like the empire and still think things are wrong. Love your History Nerd

-

As you say, the Blade are highly specialist and, in this fic at least, as Empress Marmora’s Li Naacht the whole premise of their order is one of blood - one does not simply join the Blade: you’re either born to it, or you’re not. That’s part of the reason why, upon first meeting Keith, they were all so convinced that he must have stolen his own knife, and that’s why they promised him answers only if he could awaken it… Either he was one of them, or he wasn’t. Either he was entitled to the Truth by right of his ancestry, or he was an imposter. There’s no uncertainty in Marmora’s inner circle, no question of loyalty, no grey area… things simply are.

And obviously this begs the question: what of the Galra who aren’t born the the Blade, and yet also disagree with Zarkon’s methodology?

I think at this point it’s important that I impress upon you the Galra people’s cultural predisposition for loyalty. In the grand scheme of things, humans are ultimately a little self-serving - willing to smile, and lie, and undermine others to achieve their own ends - and universally speaking we would be seen as one of the more individualistic planets, culturally, wherein any given person is likely to prioristise their own desires. The Galra are quite the opposite. They’ve been able to operate as one of the most successful invading races in the universe for several millennia (a fair portion of which was before Zarkon was even born) because their culture promotes collectivist tendencies; united under one ruling monarch who is accepted and respected for their physical and mental prowess in battle, the Galra people function within a hive-like hierarchy of one Imperial identity. One mind. That’s not to say that individuals don’t have their own wants / needs, only that the collective (a family of sorts, spanning billions of Galra across the universe) is priority number one. Broadly speaking, if a member of any given Galra bloodline is a traitor to the crown then they have also betrayed the collective, and it’s entirely possible (and entirely likely) that their siblings / parents / children would stand aside and let lawful justice be served.

Bearing all that in mind, undermining the acting Emperor / Empress isn’t at all commonplace - not in the same way that it is throughout human history.

However, as I’ve previously mentioned the Empire is massively multicultural with planets (often whole galaxies) that have loyally served the Imperial throne for centuries being granted status as vassal states rather than slave colonies. This means that regular Galra citizens - not soldiers or druids or nobles, just normal working people - will mingle with the non-Galra citizens throughout their day-to-day lives. Again, as I’ve said before, non-Galra citizens of the Empire arenot truly equal under Zarkon’s rule and there is some segregation (with the Imperial military being a prime example) but for every Galra that freely roams Imperial territories, there are at least three non-Galra citizens doing the same… if this majority was perpetually treated as one made up of lesser beings, the Empire would never have retained its status as the greatest ruling power in the universe (and then, yes, partisan movements would perhaps have occurred more often, though likely not been any more successful, and you can guarantee that every failed attempt was made an example of by the total annihilation of its planet of origin). Instead, Imperial citizens of non-Galra descent live in Galra-occupied cities, work jobs alongside the Galra-people, their children learn and laugh and play with their Galra peers on nursery colonies which offer only the highest level of education taught by some of the greatest minds in the Empire.

And yes there’s room for improvement; yes the Imperial education afforded to their children demands that they first pass an entry exam which no Galra child seems required to take, yes promotions in the workplace seem to fall more easily into the laps of Galra-people, yes the finest housing on any given Imperial colony can be difficult to obtain when there is a Galra family vying for the same place… but when your home-planet now thrives with a booming economy, your people benefit from the wealthiest trade routes in your galaxy, and your family are protected by the greatest military power in the universe? When your great-grandparent’s generation remember what it was to live a childhood without Imperial favour, and the transition between poverty and prosperity that was only allowed by the grace of Emperor Zarkon? When all you have to do in return for this share in the Empire’s affluence is pay your taxes and continue on your way as a loyal citizen?

…It’s ultimately seen as a symbiotic relationship, and a good one at that.

((especially when the alternative is genocide))

From a Galra perspective, non-Galra Imperial citizens have grown up alongside them as their neighbors, classmates, friends. It would be inappropriate to engage in more intimate relations with them, let alone breed, but… that doesn’t mean they’re bad people. That doesn’t mean they’re “less”. So maybe the odd one or two start to ask themselves why: why they themselves can join the Imperial military but their non-Galra friend cannot, despite being just as strong, just as fierce, just as loyal to the throne. Why their older relatives scoff at the mention of their friend’s culture, as bizarre and foreign as it is beautiful and fascinating. Why, when a group of them are out playing somewhere they perhaps shouldn’t, the guardsmen who catch them seemed ready to use brute force against their whole group until they realise a true-born Galra child is among the mix.

Maybe they start to see the inconsistencies in the narrative where the stories don’t quite match up, or the hiccups in the system where the rules just don’t work. The problems. The flaws. Maybe, just maybe, the younger generations learn of Emperors and Empresses of times past and realise not all of them were immortals - or rather, none of them were - and more than that, that some were corrupt and flawed and wrong.

Maybe they realise that Emperor Zarkon could be wrong too.

A little research teaches them that the Blade of Marmora defied an Empress, once, and now they’re gone (and one cannot simply join the Blade besides) but they think there must be others - others who had seen the wrongness of it all, and others who want better - and there are. They’re small, they’re quiet, and they work in the shadows, but there are those who seek to depose the Emperor (and isn’t that a blasphemous thought?) not for revenge or glory or a chance at the throne themselves - though there are plenty of those too - but just because there’s something Not Quite Right about the current state of the universe and they want a chance to change it for the better.

…Individual rogues and lone saboteurs aside, the most notable organised movements are:

The Pacifistic Faction - the largest group, having half-exiled themselves to the backwaters of the Empire, where the colonies are peaceful and quiet and serve primarily as farmland - necessary, but uneventful - and there they stay, not actively contributing to the war but still feeding its soldiers.

The Blade of Marmora - the most famed, but also famously dead at the hands of Empress Zetian after openly defying her in light of the atrocities she committed, declaring her actions as ones of injustice and senseless violence without honour - a declaration for which she demanded their heads, and they hers in return, resulting in what is recorded as a gruesome murder-suicide, though whether the instigator of their final confrontation was her or them is, to this day, unclear.

The Zeraii (from the root, Zera) - a small extremist group that first formed as a reaction to Emperor Zaghit’s ascension, pushing the agenda of Expanse and blaming Zaghit’s Dox heritage for his “weakness of will,” with claims that the Monarch should always be of either Aalk or Byal descent as the only branches of the Galra people strong enough to lead them to true greatness. They believe that their purpose is to “cleanse” the Empire of what is deemed unworthy, with hybrid-galra being considered polluted abominations of noble Galra blood.

The Kyl tron Kitah - a zealotic subset of the Druidic Faith, the members of which (despite the vast majority not being of Druidic blood themselves, but rather regular people of extreme piety) believe that the Galra should be led by the Church rather than the Crown, with the Archivist at their head as opposed to an Emperor / Empress.

Underground Railroads - those on record were swiftly dealt with, so if there are any ongoing successful attempts then they remain anonymous for a reason, but Galra doctors (particularly those stationed at any of the Empire’s notorious Arenas) have been known to take pity on grievously wounded gladiators and incorrectly report their deaths, when the truth of the matter is that they have been smuggled out of the medical bay to relative freedom where they might live out their days working manual labour jobs on a backwater colony. No one looks for the dead, after all. This practice (or, at least, accounts of foiled railroads) became less common after Haggar developed an interest in live specimens and began to have her druids “observe and assist” at many of the Arenas.

Smuggling Resources - Imperial citizens (people of Galra and non-Galra descent alike) of all walks of life have been known to siphon off supplies from their respective careers if they think they might be of use to the less fortunate. The punishment received if caught is dependent upon the scale of the operation, the frequency of the offence, and the value of the goods being smuggled; hydration-packs might see the individual responsible suffer light corporal punishment followed by a few movements in solitary confinement and then a few more in a re-education programme, whereas the theft of quintessence (pure or processed) risks being thrown into the Arena to serve as a gladiator if they are allowed the opportunity of redemption, and if not, then simply execution.

[emeraldonix]

Daenerys and Imperialist America

To preface this connection, I would like to note that it has never been stated by the GRRM or the show writers to my knowledge, but instead just a comparison that I found myself making starting with Daenerys destroying slavery in Slavers’ Bay. She goes around killing all of the masters in order to establish a new regime without slavery.

First she goes to Astapor to purchase an Unsullied army. She offers ships and gold, and when the Masters are unconvinced because she has none of it on hand, she offers a dragon, one of her PRECIOUS CHILDREN, for which they still are unwilling to make a deal. They insult her in their language, thinking she can’t understand, and eventually she loses her temper and decides to burn them and take their army by force. She frees the Unsullied, and a majority of them decide to follow her; some because they love her campaign and message of ending slavery, others because they know no other way and have no family. But let’s remember, she came to Astapor looking to purchase a slave army, and only left with a freed army because the masters turned down her offering of her “child” so she lost her temper and torched them. Yes she saw the suffering of the slaves and felt bad, but ultimately her last words to the masters are not of their evil doings but of their words insulting her. She chooses a council to lead Astapor, which as viewers we have no reason to believe is even a slightly educated decision, and then she leaves, never to look back.

Next she goes to Yunkai, where she lays siege to the city with Daario’s insider knowledge. Eventually the masters surrender their slaves, and after they all hold her up chanting “mother” and send her ego skyrocketing, Daenerys brings them all with her to the third and final city: Meereen. She leaves the masters of Yunkai in charge, this time not even attempting to implement a governmental change.

Along the way to Meereen, there are 163 enslaved children nailed to crosses, pointing in the direction of the city. This is a message to Daenerys from the masters in Meereen that they will punish their slaves for her actions. Once Greyworm and a few unsullied infiltrate the city and encite a revolt, the enslaved people of Meereen butcher the masters in a bloody and chaotic rebellion. As an eye for an eye demonstration, Daenerys nails 163 masters to crosses. This is clearly an act of revenge, and instead of breaking the “wheel”, she is stooping to their level and playing their game of fear and cruelty.

But of course, this was not the end of slavery in Slavers’ Bay. A new tyrant took control of Astapor. The masters in Yunkai began to once again enslave the freed men and women. Revenge killings and acts of violence were carried out in Meereen. Daenerys watched as her well intentioned, poorly planned, and definitely rushed and ill-informed campaign to end slavery fell apart. To quell the rising unrest and after seeing the even worse living conditions of the people after they had been freed from slavery, she agreed to 1-year contracts, which were just another form of endentured servitude. Drogon killed an innocent farm girl. When the masters of Yunkai proposed a compromise where they would allow a council of both freedmen and former Slavers to rule if she reopened the Meereen fighting pits, an important cultural element of the bay. Even her local advisors said this was a good idea and she still refused. It was only after another rise in violence that she grudgingly agreed. At this point she flies off on Drogon and in her absence Yunkai and Astapor reinstate slavery. They go to Meereen to lay siege on the city, and eventually Daenerys and Co. kill them all. Daenerys leaves her boyfriend, a young sellsword general, in charge of a complex socio-political-economic dumpster fire. We never hear about Slavers’ Bay ever again.

Now on to the United States.

While there is a little bit of prior history (that is also a hot mess, to put it nicely), the War on Terror begins September 11, 2001. The attack on the World Trade Center was the moment the United States realized it was not inpenitrable. Thousands tragically lost their lives, and the pain and sorrow is still felt today. The immediate response from the US government was to wage a “War on Terror” against Al-Qaeda and the Taliban controlled government of Afghanistan. No matter how you put it, this response is an eye for an eye act. Violence in response to violence. No one even paused to consider the consequences, or even the alternatives. Within a month the airstrikes begin in the country on training camps and specific targets. Ground troops are soon to follow. By December all of the terrorist “strongholds” have been taken.

Now I want to pause for a moment to talk about these “strongholds”. They are actually cities, with innocent civilians inhabiting them. While there are no accurate numbers because of the chaos that comes with war, civilian deaths from 2001-present from the War on Terror range from 30,000 to upwards of 300,000. It’s the ugly part of war that no one likes to talk about, unless of course it is happening to us. I completely agree that the terrorist attack that claimed thousands of American lives and started this all was a tragedy that should be grieved and never forgotten, but what right do we have to inflict the same pain on another country and call it the “War on Terror” when we are also participating in the same acts of terrorism?

After the Taliban was cast out of power and Al-Qaeda was all but destroyed, the US military took control of the country. After years, they decided it was time to reinstate an Afghani lead government once again and placed the Shiite Muslim minority (10%) in charge. The Taliban and Al-Qaeda were Sunni Muslims, and had carried out many terrible acts against the Shiite minority. When the Shiite minority were given power by the US military, they retaliated. No one interfered. This lead to continued animosity and the eventual rise of ISIS. Rinse and repeat.

Back to my original connection between Daenerys and America, I want to emphasize the eye for an eye mentality that characterize both her anti-slavery campaign and the US lead “War on Terror”. Why do we continue to respond with our gut instinct to retaliate with violence? When has that ever lead to an end to violence? Have we ever tried listening to the complaints of the other side? Have we ever paused to consider the loss of innocent lives because of the actions of a select few? Have we maybe considered that we don’t know their culture any better than they know ours, or that leaving military leaders in charge of crumbling nations where basic human rights have just been violated by those same generals might not be a good idea? Just like Daenerys, despite our intentions (assuming they are good), we rushed into a complicated situation with no solid plan other than death and destruction.

Current estimates in Raqqa, Syria put the US lead airstrike death toll at 1,600, just from 2017 to present. That’s one city. The US is still carrying out airstrikes in Syria. I recognize that this post is very US negative, but I write this hoping that it isn’t too late to stop. Neither side can ever bring back those that we have lost, but we can stop more from dying. We need to “break the wheel”, but we won’t do that with more violence.

What can you do? Write to your representatives. Hold this difficult conversation with friends. Look into the foreign policies of the candidates running in upcoming elections. Donate to charities and organizations helping the civilians in war zones. Educate yourself and others. Do something.

[the-coldest-goodbye]

TWDG Nick - pre-apocalypse headcanons (childhood and early adulthood)

A/N: I spent a long time imagining what Nick’s past would've been like during childhood and early adulthood, with a particular focus on his school days and the ways he envisioned his future. There’s also a particularly emphasis on his relationships with Luke and Pete since they were such strong influences in his life. This post is pretty long, so a lot of it will be under a cut.

CW: depression and mental illness mentions, bullying mentions, low self-esteem

► Luke was a couple of years older than Nick and two grades above him in school.

► They’d been close friends since very early childhood, though they’d always been quite different in terms of personality and interests. It wasn’t something that mattered much when they were little kids, but their differences were something that they became more and more conscious of the older they got, especially Nick.

► Luke was pretty popular in school. He was involved in sports and clubs, could comfortably fit in with a lot of different cliques and crowds, was a good student, and was loved by the teachers. He was a bit of a jokester but could talk his way out of most trouble since he was charismatic and could charm the teachers and staff.

► Nick had always been an outcast throughout all of his school years. Other kids would treat him like shit, but he had a bit of protection with Luke around since the older boy had made it clear that Nick was his friend. No one wanted trouble with Luke, so they would leave Nick alone. He was mostly alienated, but he would take that any day over having the other boys beat him up after school or giving him hell in the hallways.

► However, whenever the two boys would be in different schools (such as Luke moving up to high school while Nick was still in middle school, or Luke graduating high school a couple of years before Nick), Nick would lose that layer of protection that Luke provided and would go back to being bullied by his peers.

► Nick never performed very well in school. Because of his problems at home, struggles with his mental health, and all of the stress and anxiety he felt at being in school in general because of being bullied, he never really put much mental energy into completing his coursework.

► Which was maddening for his teachers because Nick was a pretty sharp kid and showed so much potential, like he would always score high on standardized tests, but he just wasn’t applying himself in the classroom. He would never participate in class and he skipped a lot of assignments. He would just do the bare minimum to pass with barely satisfactory grades.

► Nick was particularly interested in subjects like literature and history, though it’s not like he really did the work. He rarely participated in class, so every now and then the teachers would call on him for an answer to see whether or not he was actually paying attention. In subjects like literature or history, he would always surprise the teachers with very thoughtful and insightful answers that were much more advanced than what his teachers would expect for a kid at his age or grade level.

► But let’s be real, Nick was very depressed and never imagined being alive into adulthood, so he didn’t put much effort into preparing for his future.

► This all infuriated Uncle Pete and he didn’t know how to handle this type of situation. After every parent-teacher conference or report card, there would invariably be a fight between Pete and Nick.

► They were from a tiny rural town in the south, and most of the locals were unable to pursue high education and ended up with jobs in fields like farming, fishing, carpentry, etc. Pete couldn’t imagine Nick staying in town and doing something like that for the rest of his life. Despite Pete’s attempts to get his nephew to be more “manly,” he always recognized that the kid was sensitive and thoughtful and very much “in his head,” so Pete always imagined that Nick would go off to college and do something more academic. The fact that all of Nick’s teachers said that he had the capacity and ability to do so yet still did so poorly in class because he just didn’t do the work made no sense to Pete, so he would express this frustration through yelling and confrontations.

► Pete chalked it up to Nick being lazy, not really understanding that the kid was severely depressed and had a lot of shit he couldn’t really deal with going on in his head.

► Pete would always bring up Luke in their fights. (“Your buddy Luke is on the baseball team and in that honor society thing and does all his work - gets all A’s, even! Why don’t you take a damn page out of his book?”)

► Every time Pete made this comparison, Nick’s temper would absolutely explode. You think this kid is already pissed off? You haven’t seen him really angry until you point out how much “better” Luke is.

► Yeah, Nick loved Luke, but he was deeply jealous and resentful of his friend. Nick always wanted to be more like Luke and lived in a state of almost constantly comparing himself to the older boy. Deep down, Nick understood that Luke wasn’t perfect and that he had his own flaws and struggles, but Nick couldn’t help but to think that maybe if he had his friend’s good looks and charm and ability to keep going forward, maybe things would be easier. Maybe life wouldn’t be so damn hard.

► Pete tried real hard to turn Nick into his idea of a man, which was very much in line with the stereotypes and expectations of men in the rural south. Nick was never really a tough guy, though. He hated things like hunting and fishing, couldn’t stand sports. He was also pretty sensitive and couldn’t handle all of the physical and emotional roughhousing typical of boys his age at school. This made it difficult for Nick to hang out with Luke when the older boy was with his other buddies, especially the jocks.

► Nick was mostly a loner, especially after Luke graduated, but he got friendly with a couple of the other kids who were also outcasts. Nick really empathized with them and thought they were actually pretty cool and very interesting. Being around them would kind of encourage Nick to follow his own interests and gave him permission to just be himself instead of being the boy that Pete or his other peers expected him to be.

► Nick was a huge fan of music, but he always liked weird alternative things that weren’t popular with the other kids at school. He especially loved older alternative music from the ‘70s and ‘80s like glam rock, punk rock, goth rock, new wave, post-punk, etc. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with wearing any sort of fashion remotely reminiscent of these scenes without getting his ass kicked, though, so he just continued to wear the types of clothes that were considered more typical of boys his age.

► Much to Pete’s dismay, Nick would rather collect vinyl records and learn how to fix up vintage turntables he found in thrift stores or at garage sales instead of going hunting or playing sports.

► Nick had like a billion turntables that he fixed up and they completely took over his bedroom. Once they began to spill out into other parts of the house, Pete got pissed and made Nick sell most of them. Nick still kept the one he used to actually listen to his records but then he also kept a couple more that were his favorites, either because they looked really cool or because they were especially hard to fix up and he had a lot of pride over how much work and skill he put into them.

► The tiny town they lived in was about an hour or two away from the nearest major city. Sometimes Nick would catch a ride into the city and go to concerts or hang out at record stores. He got pretty friendly with quite a few people that way, alternative kids who could more easily get away with being different because they lived in a bigger city with more diversity, something Nick really envied.

► Sometimes Nick would bring these friends home to hang out. They looked much more alternative than people who lived around Nick’s town, so Pete was always a little shocked by having these strange young adults in the house. However, despite looking weird, they were always polite and respectful, and Pete noticed that his normally withdrawn nephew lit up around these friends and suddenly became animated and alive, so Pete kept his mouth shut and would always welcome them into his home. As much as he didn’t understand his nephew, Pete really did want to see him happy.

► Luke went to college and Nick didn’t. This was another cause of Nick’s jealousy and it made Nick feel even worse because the cruel little voice in his head told him that he’s stupid and that, yet again, Luke is better than him. Plus, Nick kicked himself for not applying himself more because it was now sinking in just how trapped he felt in his town.

► Nick had big dreams of moving to some place like New York City, London, or Berlin, largely due to the music he listens to and this idealized vision he had of them as being safe havens for people who were different or outsiders. He wanted to go somewhere where he would be exposed to new things and new people and new ideas.

► He mentioned this to Pete at one point, and Pete absolutely ripped his nephew a new one about how it wasn’t a realistic dream. Pete pointed out that Nick would need a lot of money to make a big move like that and how Nick’s job prospects in a big city weren't that good and how he had nothing lined up to support himself even if he did manage to make it out there. Nick decided to prove Pete wrong, even if it took him a while to do it.

► Pete forced Nick into a farmhand job and made him pay rent money to teach him responsibility now that he was out of high school. Nick didn’t make much money, but tried to set aside a little bit every month whenever he could afford it in an attempt to one day fund his moving out to a big city.

► He worked long days of hard physical labor. He stopped going into the big nearby city as often because he was exhausted at the end of the day, so he stopped seeing his city friends as much. He was lonely and isolated.

► Nick would see Luke in the summers when he was on break from college or during holidays. Nick resented all of the fun and new experiences that Luke was having and all of the new friends he was making. It was nice seeing Luke during these breaks, but it felt like they were growing even further apart. At least before Luke had gone off to college, even though the two boys were very different, they at least had their shared experiences of life in the same town. Now that Luke was experiencing so much life beyond town limits, it felt like they were worlds apart.

► When Luke finally graduated from college with a business degree, he came back to town to live with his family for a bit while he planned his next move.

► One evening, Luke and Nick were drinking on Luke’s family’s porch as the sun was setting, shooting the shit about life and their futures. Luke proposed a business idea to Nick, claiming they could make a lot of money with his scheme. Nick was reluctant since that would mean giving up all of his savings that he had intended to use on moving to invest into this business... but Luke has always had that type of personality where he could convince anyone of anything, plus Nick was drunk, so he was sold on the idea of making more money and a chance to maybe leave town.

► Within six months, they were absolutely broke.

► Luke didn’t really care that they went flat broke and that his plan failed. He could bounce back from pretty much anything. Let’s be real, Luke is charismatic and a smooth talker. He’s the type of person would could walk into an office and walk out ten minutes later with an offer for a manager position in a career field where he had absolutely no experience, just because he could talk his way into it.

► Nick? Not so much. He was devastated by this. He was flat broke, no savings, now even further away from his goals of skipping town. He couldn’t bounce back from things as well as Luke. It was back to his shitty farm job. Nick resented that Luke would be just fine and move on to his next big scheme relatively unscathed while Nick wouldn’t.

► Pete, of course, was condescending and have a very “I told you so” attitude, which just rubbed salt in Nick’s wounds.

► At this point, the last shreds of Nick’s hopes and dreams were basically crushed. He began to accept that maybe a guy like him wasn’t meant for greater things and maybe he should stop dreaming for a better life since getting his hopes up would just leave him disappointed and hurting.

► Only after the apocalypse would Nick cynically think to himself about how at the end of the day, none of that shit really ended up mattering since he and Luke both ended up in hell on earth together and both were equally fucked.

[krixwell-liveblogs]

Check out this post. Wildbow talks about his life on reddit. This explains so much about Taylor’s school experience. No Worm spoilers

This sounds interesting. I’ve frequently wondered about how Wildbow’s life shaped this story.

Let’s take a look.

Redditors who have opted out of a standard approach to life (study then full time work, mortgage etc), please share your stories. What are the best and worst things about your lifestyle, and do you have any regrets?

Well, the title is already intriguing.

Hermit writer here.

Born hard of hearing, went to a regular school. Struggled in middle school. Struggled in high school. Kids who were in my class in kindergarten were in my classes all the way through to grade ten, with the elementary/middle school and high school being a stone's throw from one another.

I kind of knew about the hard of hearing bit already. I can’t find the ask that told me about it, though (it was probably before I stopped using screenshots for asks).

So far this sounds relatively normal, except for that part. But I’m guessing he’s going to elaborate a bit on the struggles surrounding his school life and hearing problems?

In grade 10, after years of bullying and a peer group that had established who was 'in' and who was 'out' when I was knee-high, tired of struggling, I was walking down the halls and I found myself wondering when the last time I'd even opened my mouth in school was.

Oh wow.

I stopped dead in my tracks, just paralyzed by loneliness. I asked myself what the point was, couldn't come up with an answer, resumed walking, went out the side door of the school and went home.

This clearly parallels a few of the last times we saw Taylor at Winslow High.

The start of me just not going to school for that entire year. Nobody noticed.

Damn. He really did write all that from experience. It took a while for Taylor’s absence to get noted, too.

Taylor’s absence getting noted at all actually seems like a fantasy compared to this.

I got caught at the end of the year, did the same thing the next year, got caught only at the end.

What the hell sort of attendance routines did this school have? Clearly not good ones.

Ended up going to an Alternative school (Self study), proved to myself that I had it in me when I got 3 years of studying done in 8 months, won two awards... and then had to go back to my old school for what was essentially grade 13, where I struggled.

Huh. Well done.

People learn in very different ways. Some people can do this much more effectively than learning in a group. Some people are like me and can’t make themselves keep up the effort required to self study, or learn better from lectures than reading.

Some people learn by observing their surroundings while flying.

I worked retail and found it fine. But family wanted me to go to University and figure myself out.

I’m currently working retail, taking a break from the educational system and buying time to figure out what to study.

I went to University and I struggled.

Guys, I’m sensing a theme here.

I spent a long, long time trying to figure out why I struggled, why I was tired all the time, and it took a kind of confluence of events before I realized what should've been obvious. I found the social stuff hard and I was exhausted after a day of listening because I'm severely to profoundly deaf.

Oh yeah, that makes a ton of sense. It’s like how focusing is exhausting when you have trouble doing that, how reading without glasses you need tires out your eyes and brain, etc.

Honestly, it’s a little surprising that I haven’t (explicitly) met a hard of hearing character in Worm yet. Maybe later? Oh wait, there was that deaf waitress at the villain pub in Hive.

Beyond that, the 'path' just isn't for me. The systems and institutions just grind me down. The idea of a 9 to 5 is death to me. These things are built and streamlined for the average person, and between disability and a fairly extreme degree of introversion, I'm far from that average.

That is very fair. There’s definitely a brand of ableism in that system.

In the end, I stepped off the path. I'd been writing a thing online as a side project and the reception was good, so I decided to leave school earlier than planned, use the savings I had, stretch things as far as I could, and work when I could (with a family friend when he needed the help and had the cash to spare, doing some landscaping, drywall installation, house painting, all prepping houses for sale in a boom market) to stretch things further.

This would be too early for that thing online to be Worm, right?

It just occurred to me that I have no idea how old Wildbow is.

And I wrote as seriously as I could while people close to me told me that I didn't deserve to 'get lucky' and have the writing work out because I hadn't seen University all the way through, or openly expressed doubts and disappointments.

Yikes.

Fuck that noise. Writing is tons of effort!

But you know, it worked out in the end. I wrote the equivalent of 20 books in 2.4 years, wrote another 10 for my next series in the ensuing 1.2 years, and I've kept up a similar pace over the last 7 years and two months.

Especially when you’re this coddamn productive!

That’s 8.33 books a year!

I started writing mid- 2011, left school at the start of 2012, went full-time-paying-the-bills in 2014 with an income around minimum wage. I moved to a small town (no car, nothing fancy) that same year. I'm now closer to the average Canadian wage. It's been two chapters a week (2.5 if crowdfunding money is enough) since the beginning.

Oh, I suppose that means it would be Worm after all.

When was this written... huh, yesterday? Well, that explains why this hasn’t been sent to me before.

Writing being Wildbow’s only/main income makes me feel even more right about my decision to set things up so that some of the money from my Patreon goes to Wildbow. It’s not that big a portion of his income (apparently average Canadian wage is 986 CAD or 755 USD per week, and I chip in with about 3.26 CAD or 2.50 USD per week), but it’s something.

My reality: I can go a week or two without really talking to anyone that isn't a cashier.

Sounds a bit lonely in the long run, but as a fellow introvert (or maybe I’m an ambivert, in the systems where that’s actually a thing), I get it - it also does sound pretty good. Especially if you’ve got internet people to casually interact with at your own leisure.

Every two months or so I go to a relative's to dogsit while they're on vacation or to see someone for their birthday, and that gives me most of my fill of socialization and companionship.

Nice!

I don't have a car, so it's usually walking or taking the train to another city, and using public transpo there. I subsisted on a rice and beans diet for a good stretch, one $15 video game bought in a year, and my level of expenses hasn't really risen that much from that point. I eat better and buy a couple more things, but nothing major.

So I guess this would be somewhere between average and reserved?

I don’t know. Being Norwegian spoils me on these things.

60%+ of what I earn goes to savings, which gives me security when my income could fluctuate or disappear at any time.

Oh, that’s smart. I suppose writing would be a bit of a risky business, what with writer’s block, audience fluctuations, sudden drops in popularity because something you wrote didn’t go over as well as you thought it would, etc.

My schedule is entirely my own, which usually amounts to 2.5 15+ hour workdays a week and another 5-10 hours a week spent managing community, finances, and exchanging emails with tv/movie studios, publishers or startups.

I was going to talk about the long but few workdays, but tv/movie studios excuse me what

Is a TV series version of something Wildbow wrote (Worm or otherwise) a serious possibility right now?? :o

Best things - I love what I do. I love creating, I love my reader's tears, I love my readers being horrified.

This is really important. You gotta enjoy what you do.

I get to make monsters and be surprised by what my characters do. Many of my fans are just the absolute coolest people - people I'm now insanely glad to have met and include in my life. There's amazing fanart of my work out there, music, people have gotten tattoos. Tattoos. That's insane.

People have permanently, painfully painted their appreciation of your work into their bodies, Wildbow!

The bad- I'm an online content creator, and it's impossible to convey just how toxic the toxic elements of a fandom can get and how negative the negative aspects can get, and how much it can affect you.

That is true. There will always be a toxic side, and I can imagine works like Worm would attract a lot of the edgy sort.

I've seen 20 online content creators either break down or remark on the effect it has, and it's wholly accurate- and my audience isn't even ~that~ large.

Yeah, it doesn’t take that many people to start brewing fandom sides like this.

This is multiplied by the fact that writing is lonely as a profession (I know too many writers who can't even talk to their life partners about their work) and it can be hard to find perspective or balance as you take it all in, when you don't have people to communicate with.

Robert Jordan used his wife as a beta reader or editor of sorts. She was there to tell him when something he wrote didn’t quite come across, to make up for the fact that he couldn’t tell. After all, he knew what he meant by that one line.

On a similar note, some casual dating would be nice, and living in a small town for economical reasons doesn't leave me with a large dating pool, and at this point I'm not even sure if I could or should inflict myself on someone.

Oof.

There are way too many people who think like that. I hope you find happiness with someone who sees you for the good bean you are, Wildbow.

I'm healthy, groomed, I can hold a conversation, I'm just pretty set in my introverted ways.

...relatable, though.

But still, I’m pretty sure there are people out there for us, who not only tolerate but appreciate the introvert lifestyle.

Hell, both of my crushes have been very introverted, even compared to myself, so I know those people exist because I’m among them.

On another, less social note, there is the fact that as an online content creator, you can't really take breaks. Or you can, but it costs. Consistency and frequency of updates are god, and a hiatus is a death knell.

No wonder he criticized me on this that one time. In his situation, it matters a lot.

I don't even know what an effective vacation would entail, because I feel like finding my stride again would cost more than I gained from having the break. So it's been seven years and two months without a vacation, writing a short book every month.

Damn.

You deserve so many props, Wildbow.

...at some point here I started talking to Wildbow, just like I do to Taylor and other Worm characters. Well, at least this time there’s actually a chance he’s going to read this sometime, if he hasn’t dropped my blog.

I just hope he doesn’t think it’s weird that I’m liveblogging his life story.

It makes for a very strange sort of burnout, when I love it so much, I can still regularly put out some great work to acclaim and praise, but am nonetheless worn down around the edges.

That does not sound healthy.

No regrets. This is me. This is what I'm built for.

As long as you feel it’s right for you, this is good. :)

I could do with less negativity from some fans and getting regular good nights of sleep (the deafness comes with insomnia by way of terminal tinnitus), but both of those just come with the territory.

Ouch.

I feel you on the sleep front (ADD has its ways of messing with your ability to fall asleep too), but tinnitus sounds like a particularly annoying way to be inflicted with it.

I've been telling family for the last year that I'll move to a city with more going on than (as my elderly neighbor phrased it) drinking and meth, where there's classes to take, a possible dating pool, and/or activities that could break me out of my hermit shell... but my current apartment is amazing and cheap, with the nicest landlords ever. It's just in a do-nothing town. I haven't found anything remotely competitive, even taking 'cheap' off the table.

I’ve lived in small-ish towns all my life. It’s pretty nice, especially as an introvert.

So that's where I'm at.

Thank you, Wildbow. This was an interesting read. I feel like I know you a bit better now. :)

(Again, if you’re reading this, I hope it wasn’t too weird to see me liveblogging this.)

[katelyndehoog]

Guatemala Mission Trip

          We knew going into this endeavor that it wouldn’t be easy, but I don’t believe anything or anyone could have adequately prepared us for what we experienced during our trip to Guatemala. No amount of bug spray, hand sanitizer or Imodium could have helped us with the mental and emotional struggles we each experienced. We knew this adventure would be extremely hard on us physically – that was a given, but I don’t believe a single one of us accounted for the overwhelming emotional rollercoaster that was our first ever Dental Mission Trip with KIA. Kindness In Action – is the most appropriately named nonprofit organization based out of Alberta, Canada with an absolutely fearless and eccentric leader, Dr. Dave Maskell. As per our knowledge, we were the first dental hygiene students to ever embark on an adventure such as this – which made it all the more intimidating and exhilarating. We have our beloved instructor, Nicole Edworthy, to thank for the opportunity. Without her persistence and advocacy, we may not have ever been given a chance to experience anything like this. 

      Volunteer. It’s one of those words with such a lovely connotation. But how much of yourself can you give to it? How far can you push yourself for to your cause? How committed, involved, or passionate are you? Empathy – is another lovely word. I don’t believe I understood it’s true meaning until this trip. Until you’re fully immersed and standing smack dab in the middle of it - faced with the reality of it all - how could you? It wasn’t until we were done Day 1, sitting on the bus heading back to our hostel that it hit me - exactly we were doing here & why this work was so important. Some things in life are so much bigger than anything you could imagine and no matter how much you thought you knew what you were getting into – your world is rocked regardless. This project changed a lot for me in ways I find hard to describe. It went beyond trying to do some good for people we knew didn’t live the luxurious lives we do – I feel as though I benefited so much more than they did. It has shaped me in ways I doubt any other experience will ever touch on. Just a simple task we perform weekly such as teaching oral health education – became a life-alternating event.  The children we were met with at these remote pop-up dental clinics were the most eager to learn. They showed more enthusiasm and attentiveness then any of the client’s I’ve instructed at our school’s clinic. My heart is overjoyed with the fact that we may have changed their lives for the better with a simple instructional session using a goofy oversized toothbrush and set of teeth. These children’s only motivation being a free toothbrush, maybe some floss or toothpaste but nonetheless they demonstrated how intelligent and quick to learn they could be, performing almost perfect technique. If all of my client’s could be taught to floss the way these children are now able to, then we’d be laughing. I’m so unbelievably proud to have had the chance to do to this.

      A sharp reality check occurred to me shortly after my heartfelt oral health education morning of Day 1. These people led bare minimal lives. I began to realize I wasn’t even sure if any of the local stores would sell floss. Later in the week we happen to pass by a vender selling toothbrushes and toothpaste as a bundle on the market street and that briefly made me hopeful. But this is a reality of living in a country such as Guatemala. Even an established city such as Chisec had the bare bones as far as what we consider ‘necessities’. So tell me, what good is a flawless flossing technique without a single spool of thread to do so? My heart sinks immediately thinking of this. How do you ask someone living in parts of the world such as Chisec to prioritize purchasing toothbrushes and toothpaste over food to feed their family? You certainly can’t, just as they can’t. All the good I thought I might have done for even just one child, vanishes before my eyes and I’m at a loss. The first of many emotional rollercoaster rides. We were only able to do so much for the people of Guatemala during our brief time there. Sadly that may have just consisted solely of their first and only professional dental cleaning or tooth extraction – and we had to let that be enough. No matter the toll it took on us. However, there is a silver lining to this aspect of the trip – or should I say silver diamine. We saw countless carious lesions (or cavities) in all stages of development – and the line up for restorations and extractions was never short. A new treatment to us, with miraculous powers was the application of this silver diamine fluoride. SDF has the ability to arrest further progression of the lesion, and also eliminate pain for the individual. I can’t tell you how many stories we were told of people chewing with only one side of their mouth, or eating nothing but soft food for sometimes years due to uncomfortable pain. I can’t imagine living like that but it was so common among this population – they shook it off so easily. Something any one of us would have such a hard time tolerating – dealing with this pain day in and day out. Thankfully SDF was quick and easy to apply and seemed almost heaven sent. I can sleep better at night knowing that even if we did nothing else for these people than aid to eliminate their pain and prolong the life of their existing teeth – then we’ve made a significant difference in their overall lives.

       Thankfully through every whirlwind of a day, we had an incredible team to fall back on. This sounds so cliché I realize, but my god was it ever true. Most of us arrived in small groups together conjugating at the airport in Guatemala City. We exchanged pleasantries and gathered our luggage having no idea the extent of the wild ride we were all about to take together. These were the people we set up a dental clinic daily with, operated using the most minimalistic materials and equipment, slugged at it all day in the abnormally hot and humid weather, worked full days through doing whatever was needed or asked of us to then pack it all up and lug it back to the buses to await the next day’s challenges. Our team consisted of dental students, hygienists, husbands and other family members, as well as the finest, hardest working handy men you could ever ask for and us – the first ever hygiene students, all wide eyed and bushy tailed. The group dynamic was pretty inspirational, considering you couldn’t pick a more random group if you drew names from a hat – coming from all over the country and having never spoken to one another before. We did pretty well spending the entire week together, working collaboratively on a project that most of us had no prior experience with anything even remotely similar to. It made me realize you don’t have to be a dental professional to make a dental teamwork, but you certainly have to be a team to make a dental profession work. We had one huge common denominator though – compassion. I am so honored to have been a part of this incredible group of empathetic professionals – each bringing the hugest amount of heart and give to every minute of every day. I was constantly in awe of every single one of them. Again, cliché but the absolute truth, I promise you. Plus the pizza dinners and evening laughs kept me rolling – I wouldn’t have made it through without them.

     But holy heck my girls. Oh my good heavens these incredible girls. You have my whole heart. From the very beginning of this endeavor playing luggage Tetris, packing ourselves into trucks, three flights, one 6 hour bus ride, three different countries, so many food/drink/airport mishaps, grouchy mornings, grouchy afternoons, evenings, days, all the mood swings, panic attacks, near misses, and baggage checks, shared snacks, water bottles and hand sanitizers, laughs, cries and proof of life pictures – these girls came through. I wouldn’t have lasted a single day without them – they’ll deny this but I know it’s a very true fact. They each showed me themselves throughout this journey. If I take away just the smallest piece of what each of them taught me, I’ll consider myself sincerely blessed. They’re empathy, knowledge, skill, grit and grind, compassion, patience, and love for they’re profession truly moved me. These young women have what it takes to conquer the world – I have no doubt about it. Things I feared we’d struggle with, they soon proved they were thriving at, things I worried we couldn’t do – they had already gone ahead and done, things I wasn’t sure if we should tackle – they jumped right in with. These women are my inspiration, my goals, and my tribe. I have a love for them that won’t ever be diminished – because we did this - completely together. There are never enough thank you’s to the ones who pull you through or give you they’re last granola bar – absolutely the most touching gesture.

      I can only hope to bring forward into my career, the vast amount of knowledge, skill and compassion I gained during this trip. My outlook on dental hygiene has now been expanded worldwide. Typically in office, we are told our most common client will be at a DD1 status (low in degree of difficulty in dental hygiene school terms). This is relative to the part of the world we’re blessed to be living in, but also the region in our province of Ontario. Although the population of Guatemala had particular dental attributes, I believe if we were to travel outside of our main cities, to regions of Ontario that are more remote, without fluorinated water and with less to dental care – we may experience similar conditions. I hope that during my career I am able to travel throughout Canada to aid the people in our own country whom are in need. With the experience I obtained from this trip to Guatemala, I feel as though I am better equipped to service these more vulnerable populations. The care I provide would be better geared towards them – with a greater understanding of their struggles, and dental needs. I feel I will be able to prioritize appropriate treatments and oral health education specific to the individual and based on their way of life. I look forward to future trips to help expand my knowledge of these remote locations an their specific needs.

      Perhaps the highlight of this journey isn’t something that can be pinpointed – it’s in the everyday life that follows - the constant reminders and memories, the things you bring forward with you into each day. I wake up more thankful, more patient, in a kinder mood, with a slower pace, and brighter eyes that stay fixated on the important things for a little longer. I remember telling my loved ones when I left, to expect a changed girl when I returned… but to be completely honest – I’ve never felt more like myself after all this. And that is an indescribable feeling that I hope more people pursue. However that may be. Find your journey and let it find you.

Thank you for reliving my journey with me. 

[backtothestart02]

When Time Stands Still - 3/?

A/N: I really like this chap!! I hope you do too!! :D

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing!

Chapter 2 -

Light streamed through the windows, warming his face in lines due to the half-closed blinds. He knew it would be time to get up soon, and that if he didn’t do it in the next five minutes, first an alarm would go off, then a pounding on his door, and then a barking by whatever individual was assigned for that day – or week – to awake all the citizens in the building.

He sighed and forced his eyes open, blinking away the sleeping dust that clung to his eyelids. He pulled back the thin cotton blanket that had half-fallen off in his sleep and swung his legs over the side of the bed, pressing the red button on his bedside table that alerted security that he was awake.

He counted to five slowly, then pushed himself to his feet and padded across the all-white room to the all-white wardrobe that held all white garments inside – one for each day of the week. White pants, white socks, white shoes, white t-shirts, both short-sleeved and long, and a thicker stiffer white jacket meant to be worn for when dealing with chemicals. The blast of white would’ve been overwhelming if it hadn’t been the only sight he’d seen as far as back as he could remember. When he was in this room, sometimes he forgot what other colors could exist. He saw brown hair and hazel eyes in the mirror, but the blinds were sealed behind glass, and they couldn’t be opened more than they were. The light could be adjusted in the room, but usually it was done automatically, without his aid.

It had taken a while to learn the simplest things, though he was told often how quick of a learner he was. His mind only took him back three months, but apparently he’d been in this place for six. He wondered if that’s when he had been born. He couldn’t remember a mother or father or siblings or friends. Had he always been this old? Had he always been alone?

But he wasn’t alone. There were millions of other people outside these walls. And Clifford Devoe was his creator. He made sure he was fed, educated, clothed, given a place to sleep and a place to work every single day. He owed his life to the man who alternated between brutality and kindness as easily as he breathed.

Still, he couldn’t complain. He hadn’t been made an example of yet. That meant he was still alive.

He was dawdling, reluctant to start another monotonous day of classes and work. His position was janitorial. Luckily, he wasn’t the only janitor in the city, but he was responsible for cleaning one nine-story building in the heart of downtown Central City. He was given nine hours to accomplish it every day. It wasn’t thrilling, but all the windows in that building were clear glass with nothing blocking their vision – no blinds or drapes or anything concealing the inside of every room to the brilliance of the city.

He longed one day to go beyond the inner city to the water front he could faintly see in the distance when he reached the higher levels, but exploring any place beyond living quarters, work place, and the educational facility were only for those who finished their work for the day. He’d yet to meet anyone who had.

He heard someone coming down the hall and knew he’d taken too long. Quickly, he finished changing his clothes, moved into the tiny bathroom to brush his hair, teeth, and apply deodorant. He slipped on his shoes that were only slightly scuffed on the bottom. When the door opened barely a minute later, he was ready to go.

“Mr. Allen.”

Barry nodded once.

“I’m ready.”

The man, large and strong, gestured toward the hall and then began to walk. Barry quickly followed.

Three flights down in a bright white stairwell took Barry to the first level where many other people dressed in identical white garb were waiting. The man made an announcement to follow and together all thirty of them were led outside.

Barry wanted to stop, breathe in the fresh air, relish the warm sun hitting his face fully, take a walk maybe just to see the city streets, to experience them.

But there was no time for that. He knew better than to try it again. Instead he followed the others to the white bus waiting in front of the building. They all climbed inside, walking past the man in similar white garb sitting in the driver’s seat. Once everyone was counted, the man from the building took a seat in the very first row, and the bus began to move.

Barry counted the seconds, 587 of them, until the vehicle came to a stop. He peered out the window as he waited for the people in the rows in front of him to get up and go to the front of the aisle. He saw the tall white building. All the windows except for the ones at the very top were painted over, so white they looked like walls from the inside.

“Mr. Allen.”

The burly voice snapped him out of his fascination, his curiosity. Once he realized he was the only one left on the bus, he quickly got to his feet and walked to where the man was glaring at him with piercing green eyes.

He almost apologized, opened his mouth to do so, but then thought better of it. He would stutter, just as he had the last time, and that would land him in a dark room for hours and no breakfast.

There was nothing he hated more than complete darkness.

Outside on the pavement, he got in the back of the single-file line and entered the building, in step  with the others – left, right, left sounding off in his head as it did every morning. He didn’t know why those words were so ingrained into his mind, but given that they were in his creator’s voice, he suspected they were part of his early lessons he couldn’t remember. He didn’t question it, but he was curious.

Bright white enveloped him again as they entered the building. People were milling about, on to one task or the other. Not everyone could fit into the cafeteria for breakfast, but this was the time slot allowed for the first three floors of his building. He followed the others as they got in line, not looking forward to the tasteless food awarded him for getting up this early and not being allowed to take in the sun outside.

But he was looking forward to one thing. It made this detestable meal worth it every morning. Everyone else mutely accepted food from the servers behind the counter, but when he reached the woman who promptly dumped applesauce in a small bowl on everyone’s trays, Barry Allen couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t remember smiling at anyone but her. It was an odd sensation that he couldn’t describe. He couldn’t remember being taught what it meant in any class he’d taken, by any lesson Mr. Devoe had given him. But when he smiled at her, he felt a warm sensation bursting in his chest. When he got her to smile back, even a little, he felt as if his feet were leaving the floor and floating in the air.

It was no different today.

Nearly skipping, he made his way down to her, and when she made to dump a large spoonful of applesauce into the bowl positioned on his plate, he spoke up.

“Two helpings, please.”

She paused, nearly sending the applesauce in her spoon to fall onto the counter before he quickly moved his bowl to catch it.

“Got it,” he said easily, proud of his accomplishment.

“U-um,” she stuttered. He was slightly proud of that too.

“I didn’t take any of the oatmeal.”

She looked over at his tray. “Or the carrots.” Her eyes widened, then she looked up at him. “Or anything else.”

Her look of concern warmed him, almost as much as the sun.

“I’ll take a big glass of milk. Don’t worry about me.”

She shook her head but wordlessly agreed, giving him a second helping of the applesauce so his bowl nearly overflowed. The person behind him cleared their throat loudly, and he knew he needed to speed this up.

He leaned over the counter a little, easy to do because of his height, and lowered his voice.

“You look beautiful today, Iris,” he said, glancing down at her nametag even though he didn’t need to.

She met his eyes, shock reverberating through her. He didn’t blame her. A beat later, he was shocked himself. He’d meant to compliment her, but the word beautiful… He couldn’t remember every learning it.

“T-Thank you,” she managed, and he saw that his compliment had landed, even if she was equally confused by it.

“H-Hey!” The person behind him growled. “The rest of us need food too!”

Barry nearly jumped out of his skin, but he finally took some steps forward, though not looking away from the woman behind the counter until he could no longer see her while staying in line.

Just before he forced to look away, he saw it, and triumph arced through him.

She smiled.

…

On the couch across the room, her short nails digging into her jeans, Jesse tried to remain calm. Of all the things she had expected to happen today, her ex-boyfriend showing up on her doorstep to tell her all the people on Earth 1 – including her father – had been brainwashed for the past six months, and he was only telling her now because these people called the ‘Legends’ had convinced him to, was the last thing she would have thought of. In fact, she would have never imagined this scenario in a million years.

Wally was pacing in front of her, trying to remember every detail. The child he’d brought with him was his baby sister apparently. She supposed she’d have to take his word on that. She did vaguely remember her dad mentioning a pregnant Cecile that he’d made a device for due to her mind-reading capabilities. It was likely this was the same woman who had given birth to the child now in Wally’s possession. Still, it was a lot to take in.

“Wally, sit down,” she finally said.

He sat in the chair nearest him, which thankfully wasn’t right next to her. She didn’t know how she felt about him at the moment, but she knew she needed space. She needed to think. Especially if she was going to tuck her feelings away to come up with a solution.

“So, just to recap-”

“Mhmm.”

“This Devoe guy brainwashed everyone on Earth 1 with some intricate technology, and you left everyone besides your baby sister behind when you found them all that way six months ago.”

His lips parted.

She met his eyes, holding tight to the anger inside her and directed it to her nails digging into her pants.

“Is that right?”

“Jesse, I-”

She closed her eyes. “Just answer the question, Wally.”

He sighed, then nodded. “Yes.”

“And you have no idea what’s going on there now, if your family is even still…alive.”

His exasperated sigh was louder than intended.

“Jesse-”

“Wally.” She shot him a warning glance. “Just answer the question.”

He pursed his lips. “No,” he managed. “I didn’t see them before I came here.”

She leaned back on the couch and folded her arms across her stomach, unable to look at him.

“Because?” she finally asked.

He got up and stood in front of her.

“Because if I had gotten caught, there would be no hope for them. You wouldn’t know. The Legends wouldn’t know I’d been caught. Your dad? He’d be lost. For good. And if you ever came for a visit, chances are you would be too.”

That started to hit home for her, but she was still irritated. So she stood up and walked past him, careful not to be too close.

“So, what are you expecting from me, Wally? You think I’m so smart, I just have an instant solution to this mess? I’m not…my dad.”

His brows furrowed, and he approached her. Only one step because he could see her watching his steps, ready to bolt if she decided he was invading her personal space.

“You’re smarter than you think, Jess.”

Jess.

The nickname he’d called her the first time he told her he loved her. . She’d loved it so much that he kept on saying it. Hearing it now was bittersweet, and in her current state it almost felt like a weapon.

Wally’s voice interrupted her thoughts, as did the couple steps he took closer that she eyed warily.

“Maybe you don’t have an instant solution, but…I mean, don’t you have…a team?”

She blinked and looked up at him. The suggestion completely blindsided her, given how the guys on her team had shot glares at him the last time he was there, making it look like they thought he had broken her heart when it was the other way around. For his part, Wally didn’t look particularly pleased to see them either or how close they stood to his recent ex-girlfriend. Jesse made a point to quickly separate them, so she could speak to him alone.

She’d been too afraid to break up with him in person, so she wasn’t pleased when he showed up. But the last thing she needed was him thinking she’d developed feelings for someone on her team and that was the reason she was breaking things off. So, she put aside her nerves and spoke to him alone – far from her STAR Labs alone where the guys couldn’t overhear her, since she also turned her com off.

But that felt like a lifetime ago.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ was written across her face even though she didn’t speak the words.

She didn’t want to say ‘those guys hate you’ or ‘I thought you didn’t like them’ because he’d never acknowledged how uncomfortable or annoyed he’d been by their sole interaction. But it was hard to ignore, and her guys had no trouble talking trash about Wally when they thought she wasn’t listening until she called them out on it. This was a disaster waiting to happen.

“How many of there are you?” he asked, seemingly unaware of how badly she was spazzing inside her head. “Five? Six?”

“Seven,” she said.

His eyes widened. “Se- I didn’t count that ma-”

She waved that off. “He’s a recent add-on.”

“He?” he asked, and she wondered if there was just a hint of jealousy in his voice.

She stomped on the brief spurt of satisfaction that gave her. He was acknowledging he didn’t really like the guys on her team. So what? It didn’t mean he still had feelings for her.

That last thought shook her to the core, and she angrily cursed herself.

You broke up with him, remember?

“He’s a kid.” She waved him off. “Thirteen, maybe fourteen. An orphaned speedster. I took him in.” She took a breath. “I’m training him.”

Wally relented, thinking for a few moments before speaking up again.

“So…what do you think? Will they help us?”

You, she thought. But she didn’t say that. Her dad was on Earth 1 too. She’d do anything to save him.

“Maybe,” she said, contemplating. “I mean, they weren’t really fans of my dad, so I don’t know if that’s a strong selling point… Of course, they’re heroes and should want to save innocent lives regardless, but-”

“You could mention that Barry almost single-handedly saved your world from Zoom – and freed you after you’d been kidnapped.”

Her eyes lit up at that. Guilt quickly replaced the excitement when she realized after everything that happened, that fact had slipped her mind.

Her lips twitched slightly as she took in Wally holding his breath as he stood there waiting.

“That just might work.”

*Also posted on AO3.