#science fiction makes me sick sometimes

[a-dash-in-the-middle]

watching the eighty-six. stomach turning, sweat, walked, fought the air, air screamed, i cant.

[raileurta]

Miko is smart

I think a missed aspect of Miko's character that no one acknowledges is that she's a smart person that doesn't like doing smart person things. Listen Miko can play guitar, is bilingual, and is an exchange student. She would have to be at least a little brainy to be able to do that. I feel like she's probably a music and language prodigy of sorts. She can learn these types of things very easily. She is also smart in general, just excels in those specific subjects the most. I feel like the only reason people see her as dumb is her impulsiveness (which is valid tbh) and her distaste for school. Last I checked we actually haven't seen her doing badly with her grades? She just gets in trouble a lot as far as we know. I'll look again but I haven't seen mentions of bad grades yet. Miko just in general hates school work (real) probably not because it's hard but because she finds it boring. Maybe it's her implied Adhd or something. Idk if this is a hot take or not but regardless I'm going to believe this until proven otherwise.

Slight unrelated rambling here; I just find the idea of a smart person not really interested in math or science very interesting! You don't really see that sort of thing in fiction or irl a lot. Stereotypical "Smart people" can be pretty boring to me sometimes because they're always the same and usually pretty stale. People forgot that arts and science are pretty overlapped and I'm just sick of people ignoring it. I'm so tempted to make a whole post on this topic.

[centrally-unplanned]

Saw this really cool post of a 1982 "SF" (Science fiction but in Japan that included things like anime, manga, tokusatsu, etc at the time) magazine that did a survey of active fan groups/circles at the time - ~woo, precious data! Lets see what we got:

Love to see a good gender breakdown - as is often the case in these things, while it is of course majority men the number of women participating is very strong. You do notice the age imbalance there - many women in their teens and college-aged, but it drops off quickly. I suspect that this is primarily because this survey is right in the middle of the first wave of the "pop SF boom", where more approachable works like Gundam and new manga subgenres were rapidly growing the community. So the older cadre was more heavily men, while the new group is more balanced. However, this is the early 1980's - it might just be that when a woman graduates college she was expected to marry and "settle down" still, inhibiting participation in these kinds of groups. I think it is primarily the former, Japan had pretty rapidly changed in the 1970's and female creative types were commonplace by then, but I won't pretend the latter players no role.

The writing on this page just contextualizes the piece, not much to report, though it does note that "3 people replied 'other' for gender...as a joke!" Sure, jan!

Anyway, on to page 2, what is our poll question of the day...

ロリコンについてどう思いますか? What do you think about lolicon?

....*siiiiiighs* guys I didn't, I didn't look at the second page before typing this up! I just wanted to report the gender data! This just happens to me, I swear -_-

But I can't back out now I guess:

It actually splits the question by gender - men are asked "are you a lolicon" while women are asked "what do you think of guys who are lolicon" - sexists, way to erase the female lolicon. Not actually joking there, it is a quite a thing due to its overlap with rape and dubcon fetishes - but I won't pretend I have expertise on the prevalence of that in 1982 Japan's SF community, even if it you see it today. Anyway, most men are not lolicons (the tallest line), though others fall on a spectrum from interested to "graduated", certainly a choice of words one could make.

Funnily a good dozen say they are called that by others, but not themselves - I believe that is related to the vague line between loli & shoujo aesthetics at the time. Which is important to emphasize, as I always do on this topic - sometimes the word lolicon just means "youthful" or "cute", sometimes it means like high schoolers, and sometimes it means real-deal underage stuff, and you won't know without context.

Meanwhile two women label lolicon men as "cute!", good for those two living their truth, while others are broadly tolerant but have Opinions. Which is fun, because the rest of the page is people sharing said opinions, sorted into "good" or "bad"! Some choice ones:

★ It's a symptom of modern civilization’s sick parts, but also an inevitable phenomenon. It’s better than having a rabbit or cat complex. Don’t lay hands on young girls. Lolicon must remain platonic. (♂/19/)

You see this theme a bit, "symptom of modernity", the new sexual fetishes are a product of a changing world. Certainly up for debate, but also very "in vogue" for the 80's & 90's to worry about that sort of declinist narrative. Then again, guy is a catgirl and bunnygirl hater, not sure we should listen to their shit taste.

On the flip side you get the "natural way of things" types, of which this is my favourite:

★ There’s nothing abnormal about having a dream involving an uncontrollable urge towards pre-teens. Even Romeo and Juliet would have made Romeo a lolicon given Juliet’s age (14), but people don’t think of it that way. Only at that age can girls love and respect men without ulterior motives. (♂/19/)

That last line, you are telling me so much about you with that one!! You can see how this is discourse, right? Like if one side says you are a "symptom of modernity" you ofc respond with "this is how all guys are" and with callbacks to traditional culture.

The "bad" side has a lot of ruthless condemnation, with more than one call for the lolicons to simply die or labelling them worthless scum. The magazine's writers do try to keep the tone breezy but I do think this topic being actually contentious in the community pokes through here. Though this serious one really did undercut herself a bit at the end:

★ I can understand why one person of the same gender might feel admiration or affection for a child or young girl, but for a man to only be able to love much younger women? That’s a mental illness! If they aren’t willing to fix themselves, they might as well die. They’re enemies of women. It's not going to turn out like Nabokov's Lolita. (��/20s/)

I mean they did also kill jesus Humbert Humbert in Lolita. that was a pretty significant thing that happened. like i understand where you’re coming from here but they very much did kill the Lolita guy.

There is an editorial at the end, and it echoes something one of the comments also states; that the lolicon boom was seen as coming from "hard" SF fans, the people who did the really nerdy stuff. There is a word they use actually which is neat: 根暗/Nekura, meaning someone with a "gloomy root". It began seeing use as a slang for hyper-serious, boorish people in the late 1970's and became a fad to use in precisely 1982 - here is a live record of that! They associate "hard SF" fans with these sort of gloomy types who can't take a joke or appreciate hanging out with the buds at a bar, that kind of thing. From there, and here I am reading between the lines, these fans like a sort of "idealistically sterile" world, and lolicon as a preference (in comparison to Real Adult Women) flows naturally.

I mention this because astute readers might be going "oh, like otaku?" and that word was only just buzzing around at this time - it is typically dated to 1983. The editorial writers note that these nekura-types are nowadays proud of that fact, wearing it like an identity:

A: I’m not really sure why, I don’t fully understand the inner workings of the SF world, but it’s like, out there, hardcore SF fans are considered gloomy. Maybe that’s why there’s this connection to lolicon? B: But surprisingly, everyone’s actually pretty cheerful. In today’s world, the 'dark and gloomy tribe' is trendy. It’s like they’re enjoying calling themselves gloomy, almost as a fashion statement.

So yeah, I can totally see proto-otaku discourse going on at the edges here.

There is a third page but it continues in a similar vein. A bunch of mentions of Hideo Azuma, who I am growing increasingly convinced was more of a lodestone for the lolicon boom than is currently appreciated - he is the ur-reference everyone makes. More discussion of girls in sailor uniforms as a gateway drug, yeah yeah, "is fine as long as its fiction", of course of course, one of the magazine editors remarking he wants "a wife for practical uses but a daughter as a pet" yeah okay we can call it we're done here, no more survey data anyway.

Not the topic I expected to find, but still this is really valuable "primary source data" - you can't trust the literary class fully on these things, having first hand quotes from community members on otaku culture in the era is always valuable.

Sorry if you got tricked into reading this - in my defense I did too!

[inthemaelstrom]

So we're about six weeks out from another "most important election of my lifetime" and it's predictably making me literally sick to my stomach. When Trumpacabra got elected in 2016, I threw myself into politics in a way I never had in my lifetime and it almost wrecked me. I was one of those people who never voted for religious reasons (long, separate story) and I felt I had to make up for lost time. By the time 2020 rolled around, I was an unhealthy mess. I had stopped reading. Everything. When I wasn't watching MSNBC and political commentators obsessively, I started consuming absolute junk TV: home improvement shows, crack paranormal ghost hunter crap, etc. Things with no plot, no emotional investment, no danger. No fear.

Right before the 2020 election, old fanfic friends from my days in the Master and Apprentice Star Wars listserv found me and saved me.

They dragged me back into fandom, introduced me to Discord, and got me writing again. I updated a story I hadn't touched in 5 years. I made new friends online and in RL. I got some great fiction and fic recs from those friends and discovered a subgenre called Hopepunk—low stakes fiction with very little if any violence and fear and with happy endings. (Becky Chambers writes a lot of what I read, and Amy Crook has also become a favorite.)

One morning, I had one of those really vivid, realistic, linear plot dreams that literally dragged me out of bed to the keyboard. It was a meet-cute modern au of The Phantom Menace's characters, set in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I cranked out about 2000 words the first day. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. And so on every damn day for the next four years until I had four novels, about 668k words, several timestamps written by three other collaborators who've come on board, some beautiful art I've been allowed to use, and now a fifth book in the works.

This is the Yooperverse.

It's not just The Fic That Saved Me, it's the place where I'm writing a vision of what the world could be like into being. A place where people with fucking obscene amounts of money don't spend it on themselves, or hoard it, or exploit other people to get more, but use it to help other people. It's a place where people who are bigoted dicks either get their comeuppance and crawl back under their rocks, or learn better and do better. It's a place where abused kids get rescued, everybody gets therapy and healthcare and is paid a living wage, people learn to value themselves and each other, and protect each other and defend each other. It's kinky and queer (although I'm neither) and above all, if not entirely safe to be both, I'm trying to write both things as just being another setting on the dryer. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's not a utopia, by any means, because there are still assholes and the government is still ... the government, and capitalism is still a thing. There's some danger, especially in the first book, and there are accidents and illnesses and the vagaries of life. In the middle of the series, I had spinal surgery and was out of commission for a few months and that made me start thinking more about my main character dealing with aging and the limitations thereof. There's a LOT of mental health issues and the working through thereof, and a lot of ongoing process. Nobody's perfect. The world outside is still pretty much what it is. But in the little corners where my characters dwell, life is pretty dang good, sometimes great.

It's a vision of a life we all deserve. It's the thing I loved about Star Trek's universe, where people's basic needs are cared for and the obstacles to them developing their best selves removed. It's what I've loved about science fiction in general, especially Ursula LeGuin's: that opportunity to explore possibilities that are better than the present. It's modeled on the MacArthur Genius grants, but you don't have to prove your worthiness first. My main character invests in people's potential, young or old, with scholarships and grants and a steadying hand. His partner builds low or no-cost housing for people in need. There's an informal network of queer and straight kid rescuing going on under the noses of unfriendly governments and failed social service safety nets. The main characters build refuges, literal and emotional. They love each other fiercely and respectfully.

Right now, we're living in a country that is almost the antithesis of these ideas, for far too many of us. People are being manipulated by their fears, which are stoked by unscrupulous, lying shitbag politicians whose all too real evil would never make it past the pitch if you were going to try to sell it as a TV show or movie. They're consciously turning us on each other with lies about our common humanity, about the state of our country, about who and what's responsible for many of its faults, sewing suspicion and hate. And though the Yooperverse started as my personal comfort fic, I'm trying in my very small way to counteract what's happening in the world right now.

I've always believed in the power of story to change people's minds and lives, and I've experienced it myself. When I talk about story, I don't just mean fiction, though. I mean the narratives we tell ourselves and others about our own lives as a whole and day by day or moment by moment. I mean the stories we tell about each other when we're together, at the bar, at wakes, at a party. I mean the stories we invest in as fans in whatever kind of media we consume. I mean the stories we spin for ourselves and others to explain what the everloving fuck is wrong with the world.

Stories aren't separate from the world, they are the world. They tell it into being. They give it shape and purpose and meaning and a sense of possibility. Whatever stories we tell ourselves or each other about how things should be or how we should act as human beings (also called our "beliefs" or "morals" or "ethics"), they shape us, and we shape society. We are society, both together and as individuals. One person with a big voice and a story can tip a mass of people into either violence or solidarity.

I have no illusions that the Yooperverse will ever have that kind of power. It has a tiny audience on AO3 and Discord and it's mostly written for me to explore the things I feel deeply about, and wish I could do, and to teach myself to be a better person and live up to my own ideals. It's a world I'd like to manifest, to call into being, even in a small way. Even if it's just a story.

[fangirltothefullest]

"I read some of the reblogs/tags from the proshipping post and one has got me thinking especially about the fictional minors, and certain restrictions like US not allow depictions of it. I get why this is a heated topic; but the moral responsibility should not be placed on the creators and the other people who enjoy in a fictional setting. I know that there will be really sick people who will use media as an excuse to do to certain heinous actions (like Fight Club) but i do think that is on those members of thr audience and not on the creator and those who are sensible enough not to that. There are so many things i wish i can articulate this better but i do hope that my words are enough. Let me know if you are alright discussing this with them or if you want me to stop."

i just get so tired because like.... i personally don't like that there are people who feel the need to write certain things or draw certain things and sometimes I wonder if the people who do write it need to go to therapy because maybe there's something that they could get help with.

But it sucks because like.... the moment you start policing what people write about it becomes an easy slope of "well EVERYTHING should be puritanical and censored to spare this group and that group" and suddenly it's an excuse to censor everything people consider even mildly "wrong". It's how "degenerates" are made out of homosexual and transgender people, how books are banned for talking about science, how even the most mundane of things we take for granted can so easily be labelled as "taboo" and banned.

There's so much bad that comes from censoring. If we just learned to be like you know what? There are more important things to think about than what random people online are writing about with fictional characters.

There's a reason this topic is heated and it makes sense but the whole point of the post was just to get people to think about the idea that instead of spending all day going "hey this person ships incest block them! Hate them! Send them hateful messages! Tell everyone you know to shun the beast!" it would save you so much energy and time to just.... walk away from this fictional thing you don't have to partake in. literally that's all.

But as usual it always devolves into whether people should get to draw fictional kids fucking or whatever because for some reason it's all or nothing for people.

I think the question for that post shouldn't be whether it's ok but whether we should not be dicks to the people who are like "dude if you wanna write about something I'm uncomfortable with, I'm just gonna hit da bricks"

[vanha-paholainen]

And another Viktor headcanon!

First of all, I would like to thank everyone who paid attention to my post and appreciated it. I don't want to whine and put pressure on pity, but there is an imperialist war going on in my country, devouring and cruel, and I am no longer sure that it will end any good. It pretty much spoils my and everyone's morale. That's why it's important for me to distract myself and share my thoughts with you. Thanks for the support! As for the headcanons, I want to say that Vicky from the first season is mainly taken into account here. Second... Well, we all know what happened in the second one. If you're interested, I'll sign the headcanons for him from the second season.

— Viktor often falls, and over the years these falls are more and more painful. He has constant bruises and abrasions on his knees. It's hard for him to get up: he mostly rests with one hand on a crutch, the other on the ground, and spends two or three minutes doing this. It is for this reason that he tries not to cross rails and roads, because he is afraid of not being able to get up soon enough from an accidental fall.

— Viktor hates stairs, and I guess that doesn't need to be explained. Sometimes he crawls over them, and it looks pretty scary and sad. If someone sees him in this state, they naturally try to help him, but he prefers to climb on his own. Even so. Viktor's pride does not allow him to admit that it is difficult for him to climb. It's not that he's stupid at all: he just doesn't want to fully admit how sick he is, because if he does, one more of the few things in life that he treasured will be lost: a sense of self-respect. It cannot be said that he considers his illness to be something worthy of discrimination, he is essentially against any humiliation of dignity, but its presence sometimes makes him hate himself and feel ashamed. After all, it's the only thing he can't control.

— Viktor loves dairy products very much, but he can't always eat them, which is why he sometimes stays in a bad mood. By the way: meals affect his mood more than he would like. Viktor does not like to admit his humanity and is guided by his old "they can — I can't" attitude, which I touched on in my previous post, which is why sometimes he deliberately rejects food that he would like to treat. This is not infantilism, it is a consequence of deep loneliness and the trauma of rejection that permeates all aspects of his life. It is as if he is trying to push away from everything that can connect him with a sick and imperfect body.

— In his spare time, Viktor either sleeps or reads science fiction, sometimes in his head scolding the author and coming up with improvements to this or that invention from the book. However, fiction is still not his strong suit. Viktor does not understand the excessive drama that often happens in fiction, and he does not like grotesque and exaggeration, because everything that does not correspond to realism seems to him too naive and pretentious. What can you do, he is a genius of mechanics and bioengineering, not the humanities. He would rather read a textbook on quantum physics or a journal of scientific articles on astronomy than be carried away by a novel about love, betrayal and revenge.

— He has glasses for reading small texts.

— His migraines are sometimes triggered by Jayce's loud voice.

— Because of his life in Zaun in unsanitary conditions, Viktor is distinguished by his zealous love of cleanliness. Once, he gassed cockroaches in the academy dormitory on his own, because he could not tolerate their presence. No matter how bad it is for him, he gets up and cleans his house every day, because he believes that work is ennobling, and a clean room is the key to a clean mind.

— Victor is a Virgo according to the zodiac sign with an ascendant in Aquarius.

Also I have playlist for Vik, but it's in VKontakte (russian social network). Let me know if you want to hear it on YouTube! (I don't have enough money for Spotify).

[mindlessselfobsession]

KITTY AND LYN-Z ♡

KITTY ROLE: Drummer extraordinaire with a penchant for books and Adam & The Ants. MENTAL AGE: "Twelve." FAVOURITE PERSONAL ATTRIBUTE? '' I would have to go with my eyes. I don't know if they're lovely, but they're very large." ANY TATTOOS OR PIERCINGS? ''I do not! I am a complete non piercing non-tattooed person actually." WHO PUSHES YOUR BUTTONS? "We all actually really get along. On tour every single one of us at least once has an incredibly ridiculous blowout. You ATE the last piece of bread? I'm gonna KILL you. I HATE you all! But five minutes later you're like, "Wow, that was completely uncalled for.'' FAVOURITE RECORD TO GET SEXY TO? "I used to be really into music and making out, but I'm not really anymore. As far as music goes that I find very sexy, I would say Prince and Adam & The Ants." HOBBIES? ''I read a lot of science fiction, one of my favourite authors is lain M Banks. I love to read and I love to play videogames, I'm crazy about Guitar Hero! I think it's because I'm a drummer and I'm a terrible quitarist in real life. there's something really satisfying about Guitar Hero. I also love karaoke" HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ARRESTED? "Never. I'm the goody-two-shoes in the band. Actually, the secret is that I just get away with it. We won't talk about all the close calls." WHAT TOPIC MAKES YOU MAD? "People getting really bent out of shape about other people's personal business." LYN-Z ROLE: Inspirational bassist and visual artist. MENTAL AGE: "Sometimes I feel like I'm 80 and sometimes I feel like I'm a teenager." FAVOURITE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTE? "Mostly I feel pretty indestructible, which is great.. Ah fuck it, I like my legs!" DID YOU DESIGN YOUR TATTOOS? "I didn't design them, but it was my concept. I wanted a traditional Japanese style Yakuza tattoo, but I wanted it with fire crackers." WHO PUSHES YOUR BUTTONS? "Steve. This is because Steve and I are the closest. I only ever fight with my sister, and people that I'm really, really, really close to, so that being said it's actually a compliment." FAVOURITE RECORD TO GET SEXY TO? "That's a kind of disturbing concept, and it's also so contrived! I like spontaneity." HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE YOU TO GET READY IN THE MORNINGS? "It takes me less time to get ready than it does the boys in the band. I need about 15 minutes to slap it all together.'' MOST GREGARIOUS ONSTAGE INJURY? "I've drawn blood a lot, and I've dislocated my knee. My lung collapsed after I had been sick, but I kept working non-stop." WHO DO YOU MISS MOST WHEN ON TOUR? "My husband." WHAT TOPIC MAKES YOU MAD? "The state of the US right now is pretty fucking disgusting. Our president is a complete joke. The thing that bothers me the most is that there are a lot of people in the US who aren't as enraged as I am, who aren't scratching their heads wondering how the hell this happened."

[altocat]

That Sephiroth is a normal dude that becomes a librarian AU is actually perfect for meeting Genesis later on lol.

...I have too many feelings about this lmao

Sephiroth is too content and distracted in life to notice when people are attracted to him. His only real aims are pleasing his parents and tending to his lovely collection of rare texts and research materials.

He's even considering writing a book himself someday! An encyclopedia of various constellations, or maybe even his own science fiction adventure.

His sexuality was an unexplored mystery to him, as was his acquaintance with love in general...until him.

Sephiroth is perusing the columns of the library's lower chamber when he spots the smug-faced auburn-haired man strolling casually about, a confident swagger in every step as he makes his way directly towards the poetry section.

At first, Sephiroth is unperturbed, noticing only when the same man keeps returning day after day, week after week. Most of the time, he comes alone. Sometimes with a dark-haired man his own age. Sometimes just to lounge around in the comfortable sofas on the upper level, always smirking and flipping through the pages as if savoring a fancy meal.

He always checks out the same book--some old pretentious text that Sephiroth finds less than digestible. Loveless. Sephiroth privately wonders why the man doesn't just go out and buy his own copy, always glancing over at him from across the stack of texts on his desk, silently annoyed, silently confused.

The man seems insufferably arrogant, swaying and strutting about as if he were a walking god among them, glancing knowingly over at Sephiroth from the corner of his eye, lips curling, almost taunting.

Sephiroth is not a violent man, and has always considered himself rather subdued and introverted. This is the first time he ever considers randomly strangling another human being.

It isn't until nearly a year has passed that they finally, finally speak to each other. Sephiroth is innocently cleaning up his desk when the redhead strides over and slams a hand down on the table in a way that echoes across the entire library. Sephiroth nearly jumps out of his skin, startled, perplexed and a little infuriated.

"Hey," the man purrs, leaning challengingly forward. "Let's get out of here."

"We close at four," Sephiroth murmurs shakily, leaning back, unexpectedly alarmed as the heat rushes down his neck and spine, his face flushing.

"So I'll wait."

"I'm busy."

"I'll wait."

"M-Mother's expecting me."

A snort of amusement. "You still live with your mom?"

"Erm...no." Sephiroth squirms. "But I often visit after..." He trails off, caught in the glinting glare of the man's piercing that dangles in the light, the smooth expanse of alabaster skin, all lithe, lean limbs and firm muscle. He feels momentarily sick, dizzy, his once composed and controlled tongue spiraling, the words strained and stupid. "...I'm busy," he finishes lamely.

The man just stares at him, smirks.

Sephiroth squirms again.

"See you at four."

As the man strolls confidently away, Sephiroth is left to goggle dazedly after him, feeling suddenly lost in the dull and dusty air around him, cursing himself, feeling decidedly disoriented, disgusted.

And intrigued.

He curses himself again, tries to rub the redness from his skin, swats at the stack of books in frustration, pulls at his hair and panics.

And meets Genesis outside at 3:30.

They are terrible, terrible creatures together forever after.

[muppetears-stuff]

Warren hate has always been ableist in the very beginning. He gets too much shit for not understanding Max's body language. He gets a lot of hate 'for not taking a hint' or understanding social cues. Hell in the very beginning of the fandom like in 2015 i think i remember there were angry pricefielders calling Warren the literal r slur because he's 'so stupid'. Their words not mine. l I've seen people talk about how they're convinced he's a s*ciopath or a n*rcissist or a ps*chopath which I find ableist and uncomfortable. I think the biggest red flag from the fandom is how there's a lot of shit talk about Warren is an 'obsessive freak/stalker' in their eyes to talking in general about how 'obsessiveness' and 'obsessions' are red flags and are signs of 'evil' apparently and not symptoms of mental illness or neurodivergency apparently. I really relate to Warren and I also suffer from obsessive and actual intrusive thoughts, so i find this fandom to be extremely cruel and alienating toward people with stigmatizing illnesses which I find explains the Chloe demonization bc she is so BPD coded. I don't think Warren is autistic coded like Max but I do think he's ADHD / OCD coded in a way I can't explain. Sorry to drop this really long rant in your inbox, but you're not wrong about the Warren demonization and I just wanted to say something about it. Becauze the demonization of all these characters go back to ableism and the Life Is Strange fandom is the most ableist fandom I've ever been in at all and that really speaks volume about how atrocious it is.

THIS ^^^ YES. FUCKING YES, ABSOLUTELY.

I find the Warren hate unwarranted (hehe) and SUPER FUCKING ABLEIST. you make amazing points, thank you for putting my thoughts into words anon🙏🙏

He very much struggles with social interactions, very evident by the way he only talks teachers or people that are into the same stuff as him, he can become very chatty, sometimes too much, when it comes to things he likes which comes off as "annoying" and "obsessive" when he just wants friends.

Mr. Well's talks about it in his student file, btw.

I share. Alot of the same traits as Warren, with myself also having ADHD and liking science and talking excessively to the point where I find MYSELF annoying.

It's so upsetting too that the developers leaned INTO the stalker/obsessive Warren allegations that I can't even fucking talk about him or mentioning that I like him on certain platforms without the fear of people saying I "support stalking" which I don't. I can't defend him and say that he wasn't stalking without someone going, "but it's canon, the developers confirmed it!!" Yeah well, Mark and Nathan have done some more fucked up shit and I still see people defend them. (I love Nathan too for his complexity and ability to become better. He just needed help, but it doesn't excuse anything he did.)

Warren is the best character. He had so much potential to be an amazing recurring character, but he was their simply for plot convenience or to make the player not suspicious that Mark could be behind everything because Warren was "creepy"

I'm probably gonna have people saying I'm being a baby over this and that he's a fictional character and stuff, you can totally have your own opinion on Warren Graham, I'm not telling you you can't, just please stop calling people who like him "stalkers" or say they support stalking and creepy behavior, when that isn't true. The amount of hate towards anyone that isn't Max or Chloe, and then the immediate hate on YOU for not liking them or liking/defending another character makes me sick, as well as the flat out abelism. The reason why I left the fandom in the first place before picking it back up because of Warren<3

Thank you again, Anon. For sending me such a lovely ask(?) And letting me rant about him because he's my favorite, and I agree with you so much, you're so right<3

[gorgeousundertow]

OTP: Brad/Nate

For @mutantmanifesto

inspired by this mega post. None are exact copies (that I'm aware of) but in keeping with the general tone.

TW: angst, suggestive content, etc.

Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ? Brad. I think the argument would get very wordy (obviously) and he would end up twisting himself into a logically impossible state, and have to resort to "Because I love you!" But - both do stupid things on account of love.

What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? matter-of-fact and reassuring; here's where you are, here's what's real.

Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.) Nate steals Brad's clothes.

Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’? Brad is more protective, but neither of them needs protecting.

Describe their cozy night in. Nate is reading, working on something, and Brad is fiddling with gadget. At some point they play a game like Risk or Scrabble and get really pissed at each other

Who would beg the other not to leave? Who has to leave to protect the other? Depending on the circumstance, either would leave to protect the other, but I could see it more likely to happen with Nate leaving Brad. I don't really see either of them begging the other stay bc they're dumb and don't use their words.

Would they build a pillow fort together just because? No.

What happens if one of them gets sick? Brad freaks the fuck out and makes soup and takes Nate's temperature every ten seconds. Nate is much more reasonable.

What are their thoughts on having children? I think they both like kids, but it might not occur to them that they would be good at it together for a long while.

Describe their first date. They don't have one. They just trip over themselves until they discover they've moved in together.

Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell? Absolutely. They do not acknowledge the existence of emotions (maybe anger? Anger is fine) but yes, they can always tell.

Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over? They have some heated arguments, but a lot of the time everything gets said with the eyes.

Who’s the bigger tease? NATE.

How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash? They sometimes have disagreements because their values aren't exactly aligned; Nate is a lot more practical and ruthless than Brad is. In some ways Brad is more of an idealist--Brad pushes Nate to be a better version of himself, someone who doesn't need to compromise his own integrity, and Nate keeps Brad from getting lost in his own head.

Do they always say 'i love you' before leaving? No, but it's implied.

Can they stay up all night just talking? Oh yes, wandering down philosophical rabbit holes.

Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately? Either one, whenever they think it's most likely to surprise the other.

How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind? They strike me as dog people.

How do they feel about PDA? Uncomfortable with it due to Don't Ask Don't Tell, but in certain circumstances they might enjoy shocking their friends and family.

Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship. R U Mine, Arctic Monkeys

Who would get into a fight to defend the other's honor? Who tends to the other's wounds? Lol both. But mostly Brad.

What reminds each of their partner? Little things. Brad of Nate: Baseball games, New Yorker Magazine, collared shirts, crossword puzzles, backpacks. Nate of Brad: Wired Magazine, Astounding Science Fiction, hydration packs, faded t-shirts, very organized dressers.

Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning? Brad. Dude likes his sleep.

Who's more likely to give the other a massage? Neither unless there's sex involved, or an injury. If there's an injury, Brad.

Do they have any hobbies they share? They're very competitive, so anything that's a hobby becomes a competition.

What are their vices? Oh god. Being right?

Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party? Lol both. Brad's bigger, but he doesn't actually drink much because he likes to remain in control, so he's not used to it.

What are there thoughts on pet names? Do they have any? Only to annoy the other one.

Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out? Neither

Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing? anything but a MOPP suit.

Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.) They're pretty handsy actually. Nate maybe slightly more so.

Who's the better story teller? Brad. Brad Brad Brad.

Who's the better cook? Also Brad.

Who's more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush? Definitely Brad, but occasionally Nate.

Who's more artistic? Nate

Who's more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry? Brad

Which is more likely to swear? Brad

Who is more sexually experimental? Who's more vanilla? Nate is a dark horse.

Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think? Brad, and Nate would be resigned and on board

Who has an insatiable appetite? And what does the other do to help? Dark Horse Nate. Brad does not mind one bit.

Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering? Come on. Brad.

What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.) These idiots would go out in the bad weather because it's neat.

Who would give their life for the other without a second thought? Both. Nate might try to think of another way for a hot second, actually, but he would still definitely do it.

Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway? Brad would dance, Nate would join in (badly)

Can they fall asleep without the other? Yes, because they are professionals.

Would they get frisky at the movies by themselves? YES.

Does either of them have a secret that could potentially ruin their relationship? No.

Who's the better driver? Nate, because he's safer. Brad, because he's faster.

Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other? Yes, but mostly Brad. Not that he'd admit it.

who's more likely to do something out of spite? Nate.

What’s a non verbal way they say I love you? Sergeant/Sir (still verbal I guess but ya know)

Describe their weekend getaway? They each have a different version, and they try to meet each other's needs. For Brad, it's something adventurous, something that tests his limits, and Nate's game--so a long wilderness hike, foraging for food. For Nate, it's more likely more of a classic vacation

Would they ever go skinny dipping? Yes.

Who’s more likely to carry the other to bed? Brad.

Do they like watching clouds or star gazing? Star-gazing more likely, with Brad pointing out constellations and Nate telling the legends behind them.

What do they do turn the other on/put them in the mood? an eyefuck is all it takes

Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart? Nate makes a list, Brad tosses in anything

Who’s more likely to hold a grudge after an argument? Nate

Who tops? Who bottoms? Switch

Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping? Both

[theangelwithawand]

Ncuti Gatwa has my favorite Doctor intro. No sadness of a fan favorite departing hanging over him.

There’s something new, something other than the Doctor being sick or erratic. (It worked for especially well for Ten because of the story and because it gives his eventual reveal so much weight, and it gives him 15 minutes uninterrupted to showcase the full-range of his character), but that doesn’t have to be the formula forever.

This time we get so much time with a genuinely kind, energetic, supportive Doctor who said, “it’s okay to take a break. And while you do that, get the one thing you never let yourself have, I’m going to go be amazing. He straight up says “sit down, I’ve got this”

For the first time since I originally watched Born Again, I felt like I made a friend.

I don’t want this incarnation to actually be some weird limbo version of the Doctor that’s going to eventually regenerate into 15, because that means you’re taking away the beautiful, wonderful positivity and kindness that Fifteen innately possesses. Gatwa’s doctor is just an incarnation that is born ready to finally let go of angst and sadness that has defined the last two decades of the show.

Someone he loves (his past self) is going to take care of themselves and heal, and that’s what makes him okay. He’s not ‘fixing’ anyone, he’s not ONLY there to help. He wants to head back out into the stars immediately (well, evidently the club) and he does. As he should.

Fifteen is absolutely the Doctor. The Doctor who is kind and beautiful and fun from the word go. I can’t wait to watch his adventures.

Fourteen, for me, will forever be the Doctor in a garden telling stories and basking in the love of his family that he always wanted and finally has and can sneak his family off for low-stakes, but no less magical adventures. No future regenerations, no merging with Fifteen later down the line, no becoming the Valeyard.

If that’s not what the intent was…honestly I don’t care. If that’s what is revealed later… honestly I will probably ignore it.

Fourteen is explicitly told to just sit down for awhile, so I don’t feel like he’s hanging over 15. But if David comes back, I’ll still be in for a phenomenal performance of a wonderful incarnation of a character I adore, by an extremely talented actor who loves the show as much as any fan because he is one, and one who is getting the chance to continually fulfill his greatest childhood dream.

The specials are not perfect, but I can connect with them in a way I haven’t been able to connect to the show in a long time. There was a real focus on character again, something I personally enjoy in storytelling.

If that isn’t what you like, that’s fine. My opinions are just that, and by definition can’t be right or wrong.

Doctor Who is science FICTION. It is an endless web of retcons and contradictory lore. It is a show where an alien ship that fits an entire dimension inside of it, that can travel anywhere in all of time and space, looks like a police box and requires a key.

Sometimes I don’t need it to make perfect sense. Sometimes I just want to watch a character I love get something nice after being saved emotionally by his awesome queerplatonic bestie and his happy, supportive mitosis brother!

Sometimes the real world is hard, and I just want a happy ending in my escapism.

[jwowwsboobs]

Star-crossed

The thing about a lot of things that are bad for you, is that after you get it once, you want nothing else. Alcohol, coke, heroin...sex. Lots of things. But nothing is like him. Nothing compares to him.

What the fuck could? How could I think of anything but his blood-reddened lips, skin pale, and wispy black hair over his eyes and brushing his cheek and his thin shoulders. His eyes, darker than the starless sky over Hollywood, his mean little laugh. Long, cold fingers covered in sliver rings. Sacred hands. Sorry. Scarred. Scarred hands.

He hasn't touched me in almost two months.

To be honest, I haven't seen him since he bit me. I called him yesterday and he didn't pick up. I call him once a week. Or more. Does it matter how much I call? He doesn't answer.

I spend all day in my room sleeping and get up at night to roam the streets. Most nights. I work part-time as a bartender at this bar that has me working from like 9 PM to 3. It's mostly cleaning tables. Tedious. Odious. And most importantly, lame as shit.

Everything is lame as shit, honestly. The bands I like bore me, beer tastes like piss, new clothes don't excite me, I fuck the hottest girls and can't cum. Nothing looks good. Nothing sounds good. Nothing feels good. It's like I can't feel anything except a hollow, achy hole in my heart.

Used to be I could fix that with sex and booze and music.  

But I don't go out anymore. The most I go out is to the beach and watch the sunrise after work. Bar's five miles from the apartment, beach is five miles from the bar. Or something. It doesn't matter to me. I take the bus, six-pack under my arm. Or a bottle of Night Train. It doesn't really matter what it is, as long as I get drunk enough to fall asleep when I get home.

Nothing really matters, as long as I sleep. I see him in my dreams, and that's as close as I can get to being with him. Tripp picks me up most days, with a hot breakfast from McDonalds that he pushes into my hands and some orange juice in an old resealable beer bottle. And his big brown eyes watch me worriedly from the driver's seat when I crawl in the back, slightly sunburned and head pounding from watching the sunrise.

He knows something's wrong.

I think he thinks I'm becoming an alcoholic. Like a big one. He's one to talk. But he won't say anything. I see him watching me when he thinks I can't see him. Or when he thinks I'm too fucked up to notice. The only good thing about being a vampire is it takes way longer to get drunk. And my skin is better.

I lost my tan though. I wonder if Ryan had a tan once. I think about him all the time. It makes me sick. I want to see him again. I want him.

Two months to the day after I'd last seen Ryan, Tripp stayed home. I was getting ready for work, and he sat on the couch, reading a book.

No, wait. Playboy. Reading Playboy. Which sounds stupid, isn't it all girl bare tits and ass?

"Watcha pouring over there?" I asked, grabbing a piece of deli meat from the fridge and shoving it in my mouth.

"Uhhhh," Tripp squinted at the page. "Auther Clark's Playboy interview."

"Thought Playboy had naked girls, what are you reading interviews for?"

Tripp shrugged. "Alice said he was cool. He's supposed to be like, one of the best science fiction writers of our time."

"Since when have you been into science fiction?"

Tripp ignored that. "Listen man, are you working tomorrow?"

"No." I said, gloomily. Going to work was the only thing I had the energy to do. Laying in bed all day and all night when I didn't have work was hell. Sometimes I'd write, but that was worse. It was all about him.

"Cool, listen, me ‘n’ Alice-"

"Who?" I was bored already.

"Alice? Alistar? Me ‘n’ him hang out all the time, dude, haven't I mentioned him?”

"Hm."

How was I supposed to keep track of his friends? He's got like a million of them.

Tripp shrugged. "Well anyway, he's really cool man, come with me tomorrow, me 'n' him are gonna see this band. He wants to meet you. It'll be fun man! Just come with me to the concert. It'll be fun."

I checked the clock. I needed to leave. "Yeah, alright man, I gotta go."

"Think about it at least, dude. You haven't been out in ages. You need to have some fun. Get laid!"

I rolled my eyes and slammed the door behind me. Not true, but he would say that.

Work was mind-numbing. Tables covered in crushed peanut shells, wadded up, snotty napkins, yellow buzzing lights. Beer spills. Condensation rings. Cig burns on the counter tops. I thought I saw Ryan slip into the bathroom, but it was another shaggy, black haired guy in black leather and denim. A girl who would have been fun a couple months ago slipped me her number. I threw it out later. Didn't bother looking at it.

When I got off, I headed straight to the beach. I didn't stop at the liquor store on my way.

I sat on the sand in the dark, watching the waves crash against the shore. Lights from the street and boardwalk behind me reflected off the water. I felt cold and tired and alone, and I was tired of feeling cold and tired and alone. I lit a cigarette and tried to relax. His eyes danced in front of me, and I rubbed my eyes. I dug through my pockets for a pen and my order pad. There was something biting at the inside of my head, some kind of poem or song or something. Something. I scrawled something I hoped would make sense to me later, but I didn't care if it did or not. It was too dark for me to really make out what I was writing but I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was writing. Just putting it out there.

I ran out of sheets on my order pad before the sun rose. I'd needed a new one anyway. Might as well use it up on something kind of important. More important than Bobby and Jack's fucking drink and sides order. I got up, not feeling like waiting for Tripp, and waited at the bus stop. A red-haired guy in sunglasses and dark clothes sat slumped in an alley by the bus stop. I felt like he was watching me, but I knew that was not true. I hoped it was not true.

It took me an hour to get home, like it usually did when I took the bus. I ran my hand through my hair, flipping through the pages while we drove. It looked like there'd be a couple things here and there that would be usable, there was a lot of stuff, but I'd look at it again when I woke up.

I got in the apartment as the sun started to rise over the Strip. Earlier than I normally got in. Tripp wasn't awake, and I had no intention of waking him up. I took my shower as quietly and as fast as I could, and crawled in bed. And passed out.

I woke up around 7 in the evening. Tripp shuffled around the apartment, and I could hear him playing Led Zep. Sounded like Black Dog. That I could identify it was fucked. Never liked Led Zep. Fucking stoner shit. Pink Floyd would be worse, but lucky for me, he didn't like those idiots either. Speaking of stoners, it smelled like weed a little bit, which, if I could smell it from my room, meant that he was smoking the really fucking ass shit and would be whining about needing to get more tomorrow. Fucking idiot. I groaned, pulled my pillow over my head and tried to go back to sleep.

After a couple minutes, I gave up and pulled the closest pair of jeans on. He'd said something about a show yesterday, so I figured while he was gone I could work on whatever shit I'd vomited up last night.

I was dead fucking wrong, of course.

I went to grab something to eat, hungry as hell, and caught him jumping on the furniture, pretending to solo to Rock and Roll. He didn't notice me, completely engrossed in pretending to be Jim Page. I cheered at the end of the solo, and he fell off the couch, hitting the floor HARD.

"Lani!" He yelled, rubbing his shoulder as he got up. I doubled over with laughter.

"Man, not cool," He said, trying not to laugh. "I was fucking killing it."

"In your stoner dork dreams, brother," I said, grabbing a slice of dunno-how-old, left over pizza from the fridge and leaning against the counter.

Tripp laughed. "So you wanna play like that, huh?"

"Huh?" I asked, mid-pizza bite.

He wiggled his eyebrows and I fled.

I heard him jump over the couch and he chased me around the apartment, both of us laughing the whole time.

He finally tackled me onto the couch and kissed my forehead. Well, I say kissed, it's like being kissed by a dog. All drool and spit. Girls seem to love it. But not me.

"C'mon man, eat fast, we gotta head out." He said, getting off me and wandering towards his room. "I wanna get to the club before it's too packed to get in."

"What?" I asked, sitting up and wiping my forehead. Gross.

"What do you mean what, we're gonna go to a show and see some friends! It'll be fun!"

"No way man," I stood, wiping my hand on my jeans. "I've got like, shit. Lyrics. 'N shit. To like, work on."

Tripp grinned. "Yeah, we can work on that later, dude! Let 'em rest. Put some shoes and a shirt on, we're leaving in like, five."

"No seriously man, I, like-," I tried to protest. He closed the door to his room and I flopped against the back of the couch. Fucking jerk. I kicked my feet against the coffee table, littered in beer cans and skin magazines. And my notepad. I'd thrown it on there when I'd come in, knowing Tripp wouldn't touch it. I grabbed it and let myself get lost.

Tripp threw a black shirt at me, and I jumped.

He shrugged his patch-covered denim vest over his cut-off shirt and picked up my boots, abandoned by the door days ago. "C'mon, Lani. Let's go."

He stood, arms folded, grinning. I huffed.

"Dude, I don't want to."

He shrugged, still smiling.

I rolled my eyes, throwing the notepad on the table and picking up the shirt he'd thrown at me. I grabbed the boots out of his hand, and he locked the apartment door as I pulled them onto my feet. Tripp led the way down the stairs. Our building didn't have an elevator, which sucked, but it was also only two floors, and there really wasn't anywhere for an elevator. Everyone's doors faced a center patio with a shitty pool. Y'know Karate Kid? Our building was like that, but ten times worse. At least they'd had a guy on the premises who did maintenance.

I pulled the black wife beater over my head and rolled my eyes as I caught my reflection in a window we'd passed. This was such a shit outfit. At least I was still wearing all my rings.

Tripp bounded up to the front of the very short line, dragging me behind him, and slipped into the club. The band was still setting up, but the house was blasting music. I fiddled with my rings as Tripp scanned the room.

Evidently, he found what he was looking for. He dragged me to the bar, huge fucking grin on his face.

"Alice, dude!" A guy in with long red hair, dark sunglasses, ripped black shirt with the sleeves cut off and fraying ends and black ripped jeans tucked into black cowboy boots turned slightly on the bar stool he was perched on, drink in one hand, leather jacket hanging off the back, and was immediately wrapped in Tripp's bro-hug. I hung back awkwardly, wishing I was home with my notebook and no fucking Tripp.

Tripp finally let go of his friend, and pulled me forward.

"Alice, this is Lani,"

"Hi," Alice said, voice rough with an accent I couldn't place. I didn't care enough to figure it out.

"Sup." I said.

Tripp grinned like a fucking idiot. "Great! I'm gonna go find Crystal!"

"Who?" I asked as Alice turned back to the bar.

"Chick." Alice said, nonchalant. "Wanna drink?"

"Sure."

He flagged the bartender down, and I ordered a beer. It was early. If I stayed sober enough to look like I was miserable, maybe Tripp would let me skip home early. If I stayed sober enough, I'd be able to slip out really fast, really easy. Tripp wouldn't even notice.

Alice took a sip from his drink.

"Tripp tell you what band was playing?"

I shook my head. "No."

He shrugged. "Probably for the better. They're ass. An embarrassment really. Can't believe they're willing to show their faces playing music so fuckin' bad."

I laughed. He couldn't be serious.

"Dead serious man." Alice said, as the bartender slid me my glass. I nodded in thanks and turned back to Alice. His sunglasses obscured his face almost totally. How could he see in them?

"You'll see what I mean."

I took a swig and shook my head. "Man, I fuckin' hope you're right, the bands that suck are so much fuckin' funnier."  

Alice scoffed. "You here for music or for fuckin' idiot shit?"

I scratched at my neck, not wanting to look at him. The sunglasses in the dark bar was freaking me out. "Why not both?" I asked.

"Gets'cha killed." Alice drummed his finger against the bar top. "Guess that dund't really bother yer kind though."

"What?"

He turned to look at me. I think. I couldn't see his eyes behind those fucking sunglasses and it was freaking me the fuck out.

"Don't play stupid. You heard what I said."

Gay? Or-

I didn't wanna think about it.

"Thanks for the drink man," I said, pounding my drink back. "I need a cig."

"Suit yourself. I can tell you more than he ever will."

A cold chill raced down my spin.

"What?"

Alice's lips twitched upwards. They were chapped and pale. "You know what. Go take yer smoke. I'm not moving."

Instead, I sat on the stool next to him. "No, tell me. Explain."

"So you were bit, what, a week ago?"

"Two. Months." I corrected.

"No shit? Same night you met him?" But they weren't really questions.

I felt weird with his eyes on me behind the sunglasses. "Night after."

"Interesting."

"Why?"

"Usually you don't live."

I felt sick to my stomach.

"Have you killed?"

I shook my head.

Alice grunted. "Interesting. Most kill about two weeks after they've been turned. Have you seen him?"

"No." I ran a hand through my hair. This was freaking me out. "No. He, um, he comes to me in dreams. And I think I see him when I'm awake too. He's always in my head. I can't get him out of my head."

Alice drummed his fingers on the counter top.

"How do you feel about him?"

I stared at my hands.

"I..."

I was obsessed with the thought of him. He consumed every moment. I hated how he was nowhere to be found. I loved him. I wanted him. I needed him. I loved him. I loved him.

"I think I love him." I whispered.

Alice stopped drumming his fingers against the table-top. "Hm."

I didn't wanna know what that fucking meant. He turned away and drank. I swallowed. My throat felt drier than the dessert and I was freezing cold.

"How do you-?" I choked out.

Alice put his drink down. "I'm supposed to kill you."

"Me?"

He waved one hand dismissively. "You, yer kind, same difference. Except you're not really one of them. Yet. But yer time will come. Every dog has it's day, huh?"

I shook my head. This was too fucking much. "I'm going for a cig."

Alice grabbed my arm. His hand was too warm and tight.

"Listen. If you don't want to live like this, there's ways I can help you."

"I need a fuckin' cig," I spat, trying to wrestle my arm out of his iron grip.

Alice shrugged and let go. He flagged down the bartender, and ordered another drink as I shoved my way through the throng of people filling up the club.

I stumbled to the fire exit near the stage, always propped open, and slumped against the wall of the empty outside alleyway. I took deep breaths, trying to calm down. It didn't work. I dug in my pockets for a pack and my lighter, and light up. I hit, exhaling before I should have, but it didn't fucking matter. Everything felt like it was spinning. I felt sick and lost and pissed the fuck off.

"Well, sunshine..."

I jumped, dropping my cigarette. He ground it up, wearing the blue-black cowboy boots I'd first seen him in.

"You-" I whispered. His lips curled into a tight, mean sneer.

"Me."

I shook my head. I felt ready to fucking scream. "I called you everyday."

He shrugged. "I'm not your fucking dog. I won't come when you call."

I wanted to beat his fucking brains in. I wanted to cry. I wanted his lips on my skin.

"Why are you here?" I finally said. I sounded pathetic and I knew it.

"It's time." Ryan said, the car headlights on the street reflecting in his eyes. I lit another cig.

"For what?"

He rolled his eyes and grabbed the cig out of my hand. Cigarettes had never looked so sexy in someone's grasp.

"There's a tradition to these things, Lani. Did you think that all it takes was a bite and a bit of my blood?"

"I don't know." I snarled, grabbing my cig back. I tapped the ash off and sniffed. "I thought you'd be around."

He didn't say anything. I just wanted him near me. On me. In me. I rubbed my head.

"What do I need to do?"

Only kill for him.

That wasn't too hard. Not too bad. I'd do that in a heartbeat, just to feel his cold breath against my neck, telling me the horrible things I needed to do to be with him forever.

Yeah, I thought it was hot how deeply and vividly he described killing someone and drinking their blood. Something about the perversion of the blood of Christ. Fuck if I know. It sounded hot to me.

He said he'd bring the one to me, and disappeared into the club. I tried to follow him but I lost him. I also got kicked out cuz I tripped over some girl's leg and her meathead boyfriend started with me. Shit, if it's such a fuckin' problem a guy falls over your chick's leg, don't take her to a fuckin' packed club 'n' let her stretch her friggin' legs all where people are trying to walk?

Guess it didn't make that much of a difference anyway. I was thrown on the street anyway. And I was fucking pissed.

I shoved my way through people as I walked down the Strip, all lit up. What the fuck was Ryan's fuckin' deal? The fuck was his fuckin' PROBLEM? He treats me like fucking scum, barely gives me a second glance, won't answer my calls, won't call me back, fucking none of it.

And yet. And fucking yet. Here I am, head over fucking heels, ready to fuck everything up for those dark brown eyes and perfect fucking sneer.

Jesus FUCKING Christ.

I found myself in the middle of a median, cars cruising by. Their headlights were too fucking bright and I was pissed off beyond belief.

I had no money on me, no jacket, fucking nothing. The liquor store across the street beckoned lovingly.

"Y'know, you should just go home."

"What?" I said, turning around. Alice stood next to me, hands shoved in the pocket of his jeans, leather jacket hanging open.

"I said you should just go home. You should get some rest. Think about if becoming a vamp would be everything you wanted. Think about what you'd be losing."

"How the fuck did you find me? Did you fucking follow me?"

"Yeah, I did," He said, digging through his jacket. "Cig?"

I scoffed, and took it. He handed me his lighter too.

"Look," He said as I lit my cig. "I don't know you well, just what Tripp's told me. But he loves you. He wants you to be happy. He'd do anything for you. He would go to the ends of the fuckin' earth just to make you happy for two seconds. And he believes in you. Says you've got a lotta potential. Says yer talented. You believe in shit. You have a fuckin' brain when yer not numbing it out with the stupid shit. Drinking, drugs, women, pickin' fights, whatever the fuck. Tripp sees something big in you, and he's willing to give up anything to be there for you. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you. Can you say that about the one that turned you?"

I handed the lighter back to him. His hair blew wildly in the wind from the cars. The fucking glasses didn't move an inch. I could see myself reflected in them, small and shivering.

"What he's asking you to do, you don't have to. You don't need to. You'll be happier if you don't."

"You don't know that."

He tucked the lighter into his jacket and shrugged. "Maybe so. But I feel it. Do you?"

I didn't know what to say. I ran my hand through my hair. He shrugged and took off, weaving through the moving cars.

I looked up and down the street. Cars streamed by, blocking him from my sight for seconds. If I didn't follow him I'd fucking lose the only person who sort of answered my questions. "Wait, come back," I yelled, following him.

Cars honked at me as I ran through the traffic. He was walking quickly down the sidewalk, and I weaved in between the other people on the sidewalk, trying to catch up with him.

"Alistar! Wait!"

He didn't.

I followed him for blocks.

He finally stopped and sat down on a bench outside of a church. I stopped a few feet away, watching him.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Alice looked up at the sky. It was overcast. No stars.

"So I don't have to kill you."

"Why?"

"I'll go to hell if I can't cut down as many of you bastards as possible before I kick it. Dunno about you man, but I'm sick of livin' in hell."

"Says who?"

"God." Alice said, boredom dripping from his voice.

I looked at the church, it's golden spire dark in the night. "Is that why you brought me here? So I can go back to God and repent and go to heaven when I die? What kind of metalhead are you? The fuckin' Jesus Krispies hate us."

Alice scoffed. "Whatever they worship ain't my God. I came here cuz when I shoot up they take me inside. You followed me. If you wanna go in there and repent, by all means. I wanted you to know that there was an off-ramp. It's up to you now. You pick yer own path. Make sure the people that love you can walk on it too."

He took his jacket off and started pulling his shit out. I turned away. I felt a sick, sinking feeling in my gut. This was all so fucked. This was all so, so fuckin' fucked.

I paused on the corner, glancing back at Alice. He was hunched on the bench, tying his arm off, ready to find his God, I guess. I rubbed my face, and turned the corner.

My feet took me all the way home. I barely had to think about it.

I trudged up the stairs, exhaustion weighing on me like a brick in a bag of puppies. I could see a lamp was on inside, and I took a deep breath. This was home. There was nothing to fear. No reason to be uneasy. This was home.

The apartment door was unlocked. I opened it. Tripp sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. Someone was digging through the fridge, but the door blocked them from view.

"Sup dude," I said to Tripp, kicking off my boots.

He didn't reply. My brows furrowed.

"Tripp? You good man?"

"He's fine," Ryan's voice rang out like a shot. "You better finish him off though."

"What?" I asked.

Ryan giggled, and straightened up, beer in hand. He jumped on the counter, wearing his boots. He let the fridge door close behind him, and cracked his beer. "Finish him off, Lani. You wanted to join me, you gotta finish him off."

"What the fuck did you do to him, man?" I asked, frozen by the door. I knew what he'd done. I didn't want to believe it.  

Ryan shrugged, drinking from his beer. "Take a look."

I knelt in front of Tripp. It felt like time had stopped. His boots, his dark brown leather cowboy boots, were still on. His ripped, faded blue jeans were spattered with warm blood, dark red and fresh. His hands were limp, but still warm. The right side of his shirt was soaked with blood. It dripped down him from a bite on his neck. Two open punctures, the bloody shape of Ryan's mouth stained on the tan skin of his neck. I choked out a sob.

"Oh, c'mon Lani, don't be a fucking pussy. You knew this was fucking coming. And if you didn't, you're fucking stupider than I thought."

I wanted to kill him.

"Why him?" I yelled. "Of all the fucking winos, hookers, pimps, washouts, why fucking him? He's the only person who's ever fucking been there for me. My only fucking friend. Not you, not anyone else. HIM!"

Ryan shrugged. "Out with the old, in with the new."

"You son of a bitch," I snarled, starting towards him, ready to fucking beat his brains in.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "The longer you put it off the more he suffers, Lani. Let him go."

As if on cue, Tripp gurgled. I turned back to him, tears welling up in my eyes.

"Let him go, Lani," Ryan said softly. "Set him free."

I hugged Tripp, burying my face in his bleeding shoulder.

"I'm so fucking sorry, man," I choked out. "I'm so, so fucking sorry."

I felt him try to raise his arm, trying to hug me back, and I sobbed. Tears and blood mixed on his skin.

I sank my teeth into his neck, and prayed to whatever God was left that He'd take Tripp. And the tears would not stop flowing.

I felt Tripp grow cold, and released my bite on his neck. He lolled in my arms like a rag doll and I buried my face in his bloody chest.

"I love you, man, like a brother."

Ryan's hand was heavy on my shoulder, and I didn't try to shrug him off. I needed him, now more than ever.

[welcome-to-roomba-fazbender]

Charlie read us the bee movie script

"FUCK YOU"

"I'M READING THE ENTIRE"

"MY OCTOPUS TEACHER TRANSCRIPT"

WARNING: VERY LONG POST

"A lot of people say that an octopus is like an alien.

But the strange thing is, as you get closer to them,

you realize that we're very similar in a lot of ways.

You're stepping into this completely different world.

Such an incredible feeling.

And you feel you're on the brink of something extraordinary.

But you realize that there's a line that can't be crossed.

It's quite a long time ago now, that day when it all started.

This place on the tip of Africa is known as the Cape of Storms.

My childhood memories are completely dominated

by the rocky shore, the intertidal and the kelp forest.

We had this little wooden bungalow,

literally below the high-water mark.

So when those huge storms used to come in,

the ocean used to smash the doors down and fill up the bottom of the house.

So it was incredibly exciting as a child

to literally live in the force of that giant Atlantic Ocean.

Most of my childhood was spent in the rock pools,

diving in the shallow kelp forest.

That's what I most loved to do.

As an adult, I'd been separated from that.

And that was fine at first.

Until I went to the central Kalahari about 20 years ago.

I was making a film called The Great Dance with my brother.

And then I met these men

who were probably some of the best trackers in the world.

To watch these men...

go into the incredible, subtle signs in nature,

things that my eye couldn't even see,

and then follow them, sometimes for hours,

and find hidden animals in the landscape

was just extraordinary to witness.

I mean, they just were inside of the natural world.

And I could feel I was outside.

And I had this deep longing to be inside that world.

I went through two years of absolute hell.

I had been working hard for a long time,

I'd just worn myself out.

I hadn't slept properly for months.

My family was suffering.

And I was getting sick from all the pressure.

My mind couldn't deal with all that stuff.

And I didn't wanna see a camera or an edit suite ever again.

I couldn't even face that.

Your great purpose in life is now...

just in pieces.

And you've got this young child that's growing up.

Tom.

I just couldn't, in that state, be a good father to my son.

I had to have a radical change.

And I took inspiration from my childhood,

and I took inspiration from these master trackers

I worked with in the Kalahari.

And the only way I knew how to do it was to...

be in this ocean.

In the beginning, it's a hard thing to get in the water.

It's one of the wildest, most scary places to swim on the planet.

The water drops to as low as eight, nine degrees Celsius.

The cold takes your breath away.

And you just have to relax.

And then you'll get this beautiful window of time

for 10, 15 minutes.

Suddenly...

everything feels okay.

The cold upgrades the brain because you're getting this flood of chemicals

every time you immerse in that cold water.

Your whole body comes alive.

And then, as your body adapts, it just becomes easier and easier.

And eventually...

after about a year...

you start to crave the cold.

What's so amazing about this environment

is you're in a three-dimensional forest,

and you can jump off the top and go wherever you want.

You're flying, basically.

You might as well be on another planet.

You naturally just get more relaxed in the water.

You get to be able to hold your breath for longer.

Having a scuba t*nk in a thick kelp forest

is not optimal for me.

I want to be more like an amphibious animal.

Instinctively, I knew not to wear a wet suit.

If you really wanna get close to...

an environment like this,

it helps tremendously to have no barrier to that environment.

And I suddenly realized I've got energy to take images and film again...

and then picked up my camera again

and started doing the thing I love and what I know.

The animals are extremely exotic and strange.

It's, like, much more extreme than our maddest science fiction.

I remember that day when it all started.

I found this very, very special area

that is protected with a big piece of kelp forest,

'cause the forest itself actually dampens the swell.

And the whole forest around there

is absolutely murky, and you can't see a thing.

And in this little 200-meter patch, you can dive

and observe.

And it's an incredible place.

And I remember there was this strange shape to my left

and just going down...

and seeing this really strange thing.

The fish even seemed to be confused.

And then, suddenly...

At the time, I didn't know

I'd witnessed something extraordinary.

I'd come in at the end of a whole drama.

You think, "What on earth is this animal doing?"

And I think she was a little bit afraid of me,

so she lifted this incredibly slippery...

piece of algae that you can hardly hold with your hands

and just wrapped it in this extraordinary cloak around her

and then stared at me out of the little gap.

And then, boom, you know, she was gone.

It's a hard thing to explain,

but sometimes you just get a feeling,

and you know

there's-- there's something to this creature that's very unusual.

There's something to learn here.

There's something special about her.

And then I had this crazy idea.

What happens if I just went every day?

What happens if I... I never missed a day?

And, initially, she was clearly being affected by my presence,

so I thought, "I'll leave the camera there,

and then that will record her going about her business."

She sees this shiny new thing in the forest.

Coming at it with a shield,

just in case it att*cked, and put up the shield.

This is something different. This is interesting.

Touching it, feeling it, tasting it.

If she was in a playful mood, you couldn't leave it there for too long.

She'd just pull the thing over.

It took going in every day to really get to know her environment better.

Initially, it all just seems like much of the same thing.

But then, after a while, you see all the different types of the forest.

You get the old-growth forest.

You get the forest with a lot of different algae growing in the bottom.

You get the misty forest.

As I started to map the environment around her den,

it was shocking to see small caves really close to her,

packed with pyjama sharks.

And they really are her most serious predator.

Their skin is striped. That's why they're called a pyjama shark.

They're not visual predators.

But they have an incredible sense of smell.

And they are particularly aggressive.

They can shove their noses into a small cr*ck.

So they are deadly little octopus predators.

And I was thinking, "Well, how long before something happens with these animals?"

After visiting her more and more and more,

there was a definite moment where...

that fear had subsided tremendously.

She'd see big movement,

and she'd be slightly afraid and then look, "Oh, it's him."

And she'd come out and be very curious.

Very interested, very curious, but not taking stupid chances.

Keeping all the other arms attached to the den

and the suckers in place.

And then it just happens.

I put my hand out a tiny bit.

Something happens when that animal makes contact.

But, at some point, you're gonna have to breathe.

So you've got to very gently

prize off those suckers

without disturbing her,

so that you can actually go up and take a breath.

By far the most powerful

is when it comes out the den

because that's when you know there's full trust.

There's no holding the arms back just in case I have to pull back.

It's like, "I totally trust this human,

and I'm coming out of the den,

and I'm gonna go about my business."

I started to see pretty extraordinary things.

They can look spiky. They can look smooth.

Grow horns on their heads.

They can match color, texture, pattern, skin.

It's beautiful.

Most of the time, she's jetting or crawling or swimming.

But occasionally,

two legs come out.

She walks.

And off she goes, striding away,

walking bipedally.

She puts her body into this strange posture that kind of looks like a rock.

And then two of those arms underneath slowly moving,

so the rock is just slowly moving away.

And then she changes

into this extraordinary, wobbly, flowy old lady in a dress.

Perhaps she's trying to mimic

kelp or algae moving in the swell...

and, at the same time, is slowly moving away.

And this is how she works.

This incredible creativity to deceive.

An octopus is essentially a snail that's lost its shell in evolution.

A very fragile, liquid, soft animal

that relies on tremendous intelligence.

She's got no mother or father to teach her anything. She's alone.

'Cause you've got all these different types of predators, all hunting her.

So, over millions of years, she's had to...

come up with the most incredible methods to deceive them.

And she's got to learn fast because

she's only got just over a year to live.

When you're diving alone, everything about my kit has to be perfect.

And I've gotta be prepared for all eventualities.

I can't be fiddling around. It's gotta be instinctive.

But, at that point, I was making a lot of mistakes.

One day, she was following me.

And that's the most incredible thing, is to be followed by an octopus.

You know, you're just backing away, moving backwards,

and this incredible animal is coming towards you.

And there's not a lot of fear in it at all.

It's curious, and there's trust,

and it's like this fantastic feeling.

And then, bam!

I dropped one of my lenses,

and that thing falling quickly just startles that animal.

And then it turns and rushes, and it's got a huge fright.

And you just... you wanna kick yourself, because it's, you know...

That could have ended in the most incredible interaction and deep trust,

and you've ruined it.

Now, you know, have you ruined it forever?

Uh, is that animal ever gonna trust you?

Has that... has that experience freaked it out too much?

And then I approached her too fast.

And that's when she left the den and got a real fright...

and didn't come back to that den.

And I thought this was over.

She was gone.

I'd had this experience with these incredible San master trackers.

I just thought, "I wonder if anybody could ever track anything underwater?"

This animal has spent millions of years learning to be impossible to find.

I had to learn what octopus tracks looked like.

And that was very frustrating at first, so difficult to discern.

What's the difference between octopus tracks

and heart urchin tracks

and fish tracks...

and worm tracks?

And the predation marks.

The egg casings.

I needed to learn everything.

And then you have to start thinking...

like an octopus.

It's like being a detective.

And you just slowly get all your clues together.

And then I started to...

make breakthroughs.

"Okay, those are the animals she's k*lling."

So I'm looking at kills. I'm looking at little marks, diggings in the sand,

little changes in the algal patterns where she's been moving.

And then knowing, "Okay, this animal is very close now.

It's close. It's within one or two meters."

And then focusing on that small space.

And then, bang!

She's there.

Finally, after looking for her for a week, day after day,

there she was.

It's like a...

a human friend, like, waving and saying, "Hi, I'm excited to see you."

And I could feel it, like from one minute to the next,

"Okay, I trust you. I trust you, human.

And now you can come into my octopus world."

And she's moving towards me.

And my natural instinct is...

to gently back away.

And then I just wanted to keep still, so I held onto a rock.

She just kept coming...

and then covered my whole hand.

I'd been underwater for quite a long time,

so I just gently pushed for the surface, thinking she would move off my hand.

But she didn't. She just rode on my hand right to the surface.

There I was, just staring into the eyes of this incredible creature.

It was difficult to imagine at first

that she was getting anything out of the relationship.

Why would a wild animal, doing its thing,

get anything out of this

strange human creature visiting?

And this is where it gets interesting.

I think quite stimulating for that huge intelligence.

Somehow, she realizes this thing is not dangerous,

so you go and you interact with this human.

And perhaps it does give you some strange octopus level of joy.

When you have that connection with an animal

and have those experiences, it's absolutely mind-blowing.

There's no greater feeling on earth.

The boundaries between her and I seemed to dissolve.

Just the pure magnificence of her.

All I could do at the time was just think of her.

In the water and on land.

I mean, it just became a bit of an obsession.

You just want to visit her every day and see what's going on.

You can't wait to get back in the water.

What goes through her mind? What's she thinking?

Does she dream? If she dreams, what does she dream about?

She just ignited my curiosity in a way that I had not experienced before.

It's very useful to come back home

and try and read as many scientific papers as possible.

She's a common octopus.

Octopus vulgaris is the scientific name.

Two-thirds of her cognition

is actually outside of her brain, in her arms.

Her entire being is thinking, feeling, exploring.

She's got 2,000 suckers, and she's using all of them independently.

How do you do that?

Imagine having 2,000 fingers.

You can compare her intelligence to a cat or a dog

or even to one of the lower primates.

A mollusk shouldn't be this intelligent.

So many times I'd go and search through the scientific papers,

looking for the strange thing I'd seen.

And then you'd just come up absolutely blank. There's nothing.

You're going into a place that's under-studied,

and, almost on a weekly basis, you can find out something new to science.

According to the literature, octopus are supposed to be a nocturnal species.

Now, was she more active at night?

It was a little bit scary in the dark.

These incredible sounds of the humpback whales

coming through the water.

You're on hyperalert.

I couldn't find her. She wasn't in her den.

I'd kind of given up and was going back to the shore.

Something just made me veer slightly to the left.

And there she is...

right in extremely shallow water.

Can't see what she's doing.

These lightning-fast strikes.

Using her arm like this strange w*apon.

Just rolling it up in this fraction of a second.

And I saw her catch three fish like this.

I'd never seen her catching a fish during the day.

Super dangerous out in the deeper forest at night,

so this incredibly clever animal retreats to the shallows,

where it's difficult for these sharks to get to,

and takes advantage of all the wonderful food available there.

The first instinct is to try and scare the sharks away.

But then you realize

that you'd be interfering with the whole process of the forest.

She was out of the den, moving around near the edge of the forest.

I noticed...

the shark.

Body was slightly hunched forward and was following the scent trail.

This is not good.

I think, "Thank God she's safe. She's right under the rock."

These things are coming right into that cr*ck.

And the next minute, the shark is actually clamped down on one of her arms,

doing this terrifying death roll.

And I can clearly see...

her severed arm in its mouth.

You had that terrible feeling in your stomach.

And thank God she managed to get really deep in that cr*ck.

She was moving very badly, slowly, very weak.

She's bleeding. That smell's in the water.

There's quite a distance to the den.

Are these sharks gonna pitch up again?

I thought about helping her back physically to the den.

But, luckily, I didn't need to.

I didn't know...

what was gonna happen to her or if this would make her weak and vulnerable,

and they'd finish her off that night.

And I couldn't help feeling...

had I been responsible for this?

Was she out because I was there?

I felt very vulnerable.

As if somehow what happened to her had happened to me in some strange way.

And then this almost felt, psychologically, like I was...

going through a type of dismembering.

You start thinking about your own death and your own vulnerability,

worried about your family, your child.

I hadn't been a person that was overly sentimental towards animals before.

I realized I was changing.

She was teaching me to become sensitized to the other.

Especially wild creatures.

A scary feeling, going into the water early the next day.

I was very relieved that she was alive, breathing.

She's so weak that she can't make those vibrant colors of a healthy octopus,

and she's just dull and white.

And now I'm worried, "How is she getting food?"

You are crossing a line

when you interfere in the lives of animals.

But I was just too overcome

with my feelings for her.

I don't think it really helped.

And she's right at the back of the den, you know, just not moving much.

I was just checking every day to see if she was okay,

wondering, "Is this the last day? Am I not gonna see her?"

The big relief came a week or so later,

and I could see it had sort of healed over pretty fast.

And then the most amazing thing, to see this...

tiny little miniature, perfect miniature arm...

starting to grow back.

And it gave me a strange sort of confidence

that she can get past this incredible difficulty.

And I felt, in my life, I was getting past the difficulties I had.

In this strange way, our lives were mirroring each other.

My relationship with people, with humans was changing.

My son, at this stage, was very interested in everything underwater.

And every day, I'd tell him the stories.

He'd seen her. He'd met her.

I'd taken him so many times.

The arm becomes pretty functional,

even when it's half grown.

And then, slowly, as the arm grew, she grew her confidence back.

Eventually, about 100 days later, that arm had fully regrown.

An amazing feeling to think that this animal is capable of that

and can withstand such an att*ck and fully recover.

After a while, she was just carrying on with her normal activities,

so I then started a whole new development

of seeing even deeper into her world.

It was a nice, calm, clear day.

She comes around a corner and spots a crab.

The problem when you're a crab,

you're being now hunted by a liquid animal.

She can pour herself through a tiny little cr*ck.

And the crab seems to sense her

and goes and hides underneath a big, poisonous anemone.

And then she waits and hides.

And then the crab thinks, "Okay, everything's all right,"

and makes the mistake of leaving that anemone.

She's quite a messy eater.

Bits going everywhere. The smell's going out.

And then you just look around, and you see these brittle stars,

surprisingly fast, just being drawn to her.

Just a mass of them sort of overwhelm her,

and she doesn't seem sure of what to do or how to deal with them.

So I thought, "Yeah, this is like a real problem now.

She's always gonna have this problem of brittle stars taking all her food."

Not that long in the future,

she's thought, "Okay, brittle stars are stealing my food,"

and has this amazing method of just picking them up with her suckers

and gently just throwing them out the den.

Now she's completely the boss.

She initially adopted the same method to crab hunting with lobster.

You just suddenly see...

lobsters just sh**ting out of the reef.

I'm thinking now, "She's definitely gonna catch this one."

Time and time again, they just evade her.

And then, a couple of weeks later,

watching her coming round the side,

corralling me so that

she can then get between the lobster and myself.

Using me as part of her hunting strategy.

And instead of that messy lunge...

throwing her web over the top.

And then there's nowhere for it to go.

This is an animal that is strategizing

and working out very quickly how best to hunt a very tricky prey.

A lot of her intelligence is built

from the sheer number of prey that she has to catch.

All sorts of animals.

All the mollusks she is capturing, they're quite easy to catch,

but they've got these incredibly hard shells.

Now, how the hell does she k*ll and eat them?

At the base of all those arms,

there's a drill that can drill through hard shell

and then drop venom in there, like a snake,

and see how that mollusk reacts.

But some of these mollusks will only relax

if that drill is precisely in the apex of the shell,

on the abductor muscle.

She basically has to do geometry

to work out exactly the precise spot where she needs to drill that shell

in order to get her food.

This is high-level invertebrate intelligence.

Her ability to learn and remember details.

And it h*t me how she was teaching me so much.

You just can't wait to get up in the morning, 'cause there's so much to do

to understand every little tiny mark,

every little behavior,

every species and what they're doing, how they're interacting.

People ask, "Why are you going to the same place every day?"

But that's when you see the subtle differences.

And that's when you get to know the wild.

So when these thousands of threads going off from the octopus

to all the other animals, predator and prey,

and then this incredible forest,

um, just nurturing all of this.

And now I know how the helmet shell is connected to the urchin

and how the octopus is connected to the helmet shell.

And as I draw all these lines,

all these stories are just being thrown up.

It's almost like the forest mind.

I really could feel it. That big creature.

It was thousands of times more awake and intelligent than I am.

This is like a giant underwater brain operating over millions of years.

And it just keeps everything in balance.

Everything seemed, at this point...

sort of perfect in the forest.

And, of course, you know...

...you've forgotten...

those predators are ever present.

Just have this...

burnt in my memory, this, like, huge shark just suddenly approaching her.

She kept still and tried to hide.

Then you just saw the shark swimming on the periphery, picking up her scent.

And I thought, "Oh, no, this is this whole...

nightmare happening again."

She jets up in the canopy,

and she's wrapping many leaves of kelp tightly around her body

and then just peering out.

All the smell's on the kelp,

so the shark's now biting and snapping at the kelp.

She's sh*t out the back.

She just climbs out over a rock, leaves the water, and I was like...

I just, you know... almost can't believe my eyes.

But the problem is, of course, she's gotta come back.

On the other side, the shark picks up her scent again.

And this crazy chase is on.

And then, I see her,

in a very quick movement,

picking up maybe close to 100 shells and stones...

and then folding her arms

over her vulnerable head.

And in that moment,

I realized, "This is this crazy thing I saw...

so long ago."

Next minute, the shark grabs her.

But I had to breathe.

Rush to the surface as fast as you can.

Straight back down again.

And it's like, "Okay, now, this is too crazy."

Somehow she's managed to maneuver herself into the least dangerous place,

and that's on the shark's back.

The shark tries to shake her off and is swimming away.

Takes a few seconds to figure out,

"What the hell's going on here?"

But you can immediately tell

she's now got the upper hand.

As the shark goes near some of the thick kelp...

she just pushes off the back...

drops the remaining shells

and jets away.

And the shark, it's just been completely outwitted.

The shark comes, does one pass,

but she's completely safe. There's nothing it can do.

And it leaves.

How she can think that quickly and make those life-and-death decisions,

uh, it's just, yeah, pretty, pretty incredible.

I was around for a good 80 percent of her life.

Each moment is so precious because it's so short.

There was this one incredible day.

A big shoal of dream fish.

Fairly shallow water.

Suddenly, she's...

reaching up for the surface like that.

Initially, I thought...

"She's hunting the fish."

Then I was like, "Hold on.

When she hunts, she's strategic, and she's like...

focused.

This behavior doesn't feel predatory to me."

It took a long time to actually, like, process it.

But I couldn't help thinking,

"She's playing with the fish."

You see play often in social animals.

Here's a highly antisocial animal playing with fish.

It takes that animal to a different level.

Oh, then she completely lost interest in the fish,

rushed over...

grabbed hold of me.

And that was the last time we had physical contact.

If I think back,

and I remember it was a very rough day, very turbulent.

Sediment everywhere.

Go down and whoa,

there's another big octopus right next to her.

It's very, very rare to see two octopus close together.

"Oh, my God, what's going on?"

And then seeing that both animals are pretty relaxed

and realizing, "Okay, and then the mating is beginning."

By this stage, I knew quite well the stages of an octopus's life.

So while I was very excited that this mating was beginning,

there was a sort of...

this dread in the bottom of my stomach.

She wasn't coming out of that den.

There was no more feeding, no more hunting.

A huge part of her body is actually given to those eggs.

So she drops in weight, and she loses an enormous amount of strength.

The eggs are laid right in the back, in the dark.

It's impossible to see them.

I just keep going every day and just check.

She's oxygenating the eggs with her siphon, looking after them.

She's just slowly dying

and timing her death exactly for the hatching of those eggs.

I mean, it struck home so hard for me.

Here's an invertebrate, essentially a mollusk,

sacrificing her own life

for her young.

All those eggs hatched.

They're tiny, and they go into the water column.

Hundreds of thousands of them.

And the next thing I saw, she's washed out the den, barely alive.

And the fish, you know, feeding on her.

A lot of the scavengers coming to feed on her.

It was just heartbreaking.

A part of me just wanted to hold her and chase them away.

But I didn't do that.

The next day...

a big shark came...

and just took her away, you know, into the misty forest.

Often, I go to the place of her main den.

And I just float above it and feel her there.

Of course I miss her.

Um...

But, um...

I mean, in some crazy way, it was a relief.

It was a relief, because the intensity of going every day and tracking her, um...

and trying to capture, it was...

It was tough in a way.

I mean, I sort of slept, dreamt...

this animal.

I was... You know, I was...

in my mind, thinking like an octopus.

And... and it was all so taxing, in a way.

Um...

But underneath that,

this incredible pride for this animal

that's been through impossible odds to get to this place.

I mean, an unimaginable life.

One of the most exciting things ever in my life, taking my son,

walking along the shore

and just showing him the... the wonders of nature

and the details

and the intricacies.

I was getting so much from the wild, and I could actually now give.

I had so much energy to give back.

He's like a little marine biologist now. He knows so much.

And very powerful swimmer.

And as he gets older, he seems to want to do it more and more.

To see that develop,

a strong sense of himself...

an incredible confidence,

but the most important thing,

a gentleness.

And I think that's the thing

that thousands of hours in nature can teach a child.

A few months later, after she'd d*ed,

he actually found this tiny little octopus.

It's very rare to see an animal that small.

They have up to half a million young. A handful survive.

So it's a pretty tough road they have to walk.

But that's their strategy, live fast and die young.

We kind of imagined that it might be one of her young.

It was kind of the right size, the right time.

And it was joyous. It was like, "Well, there she is."

She'd made me realize

just how precious wild places are.

You go into that water...

and it's extremely liberating.

All your...

worries and problems and life drama just dissolve.

You slowly start to care about all the animals,

even the tiniest little animals.

You realize that every one is very important.

To sense how vulnerable these wild animals' lives are,

and actually, then how vulnerable all our lives on this planet are.

My relationship with the sea forest and its creatures deepens...

week after month after year after year.

You're in touch with this wild place, and it's speaking to you.

Its language is visible.

I fell in love with her

but also with that amazing wildness that she represented

and... and how that changed me.

What she taught me was to feel...

that you're part of this place, not a visitor.

That's a huge difference."

[themistressofdolls]

Xenos the Cat UNLEASHED

Inspired by 2000s power fantasy fan fiction stories, such as Christian Humber reloaded and others, Xenos the cat follows our over powered protagonist as he goes on many destructive adventures. Written for nanowrimo 2023, decided to do an updated edition chapter by chapter so enjoy the chaos.

Chapter I: https://www.tumblr.com/themistressofdolls/743616576495009792/xenos-the-cat-unleashed

Chapter II: https://themistressofdolls.tumblr.com/post/744437263076917248/xenos-the-cat-unleashed-ii

Chapter III: https://themistressofdolls.tumblr.com/post/747208799126011904/xenos-the-cat-unleashed-chapter-iii

Chapter IV: https://www.tumblr.com/themistressofdolls/748187552796868608/xenos-the-cat-unleashed-chapter-iv

Chapter V: https://www.tumblr.com/themistressofdolls/750820193047101440/xenos-the-cat-unleashed-chapter-v?source=share

Chapter VI: https://www.tumblr.com/themistressofdolls/756806867713409024/xenos-the-cat-unleashed-chapter-vi?source=share

Chapter I:

The origin

They say child hood is the best days of your life, yeah right more like a god damn living nightmare for me. I was born to a litter of kittens and we struggled to find food and where often attacked by wild foxes and badgers.

To make matters worse some English farmers would hunt us with shotguns for fun and one day they shot my mother and I screamed into the heavens in pain.

Father tried his best to keep us fed but he was abusive to us and drank alcohol which made the cold nights hard as he shouted and hit us.

Then one night the farmers came with mercenaries hunting us down along with the foxes in the night of blood.

I watched my brothers and sisters get killed along with my dad was I was only kitten of our litter left.

Just when I thought I had gotten away some men in hazmat suits captured me and dragged me into the back of a lorry full of science equipment.

My rage unleashed

I was in some kind of lab where they did sick experiments on us night after night. I watched as they injected chemicals into a captured wolf and some foxes they took from the same forest where they bagged me.

When I saw them did surgery on a fox to turn it into a cyborg monster that's when I unleashed my rage and I ripped out the head scientists neck “One of the creatures has breached containment, we need a kill team in here!” Screamed a scientist and I pounced on him and ripped his jugular out and he was covered in blood and guts.

I powered up feeling a flow of strange energy as I tore and ripped my way through all the scientists and escaped out of a window.

A new start

I woke up in a house with warm food and my wounds had been bandaged up.

Looking up I saw a woman and had two daughters “We took you in and healed you.” The woman smiled and it was the first time a human was nice to me.

One of the girls wanted to name me Mr Cuddles and I hated that but the woman smiled “XENOS would be a cool name for you cat.” And I liked it.

Over the weeks I got to name the family who lived up in the Scottish highlands in a fishing village called Lochmevin and I helped the lady catch fish which she let me keep sometimes.

On the boat one day we got attacked by a great white shark but I unleashed untapped power and clawed so hard it bled out and fled “Wow your really strong for a cat” the lady said petted me and I felt badass and sharks didn't mess with us again.

The pain of loss

There was fire all over town as buildings where burning down and there was an orange glow lighting the night sky! I panicked going outside to find out where the family where and I saw the mother and her girls dead and bloody on the streets “WHAT HAPPENED!” I thought to myself screaming in pain.

It was then some mafia guys in sunglasses where there with guns “Kill em all boys everyone in this town owes us money and will pay with their lives!” Said the head mafia goon.

I felt so much burning rage building up as I UNLEASHED MY SUPER FORM “kill the cat too leave nothing alive.” The mafia goon laughed and I jumped up and sliced him in half as the other mafia goons where frightened of me.

Burning with pure rage in my super form I killed every single one of them!

The next day I left after burying my adopted family with sadness.

My catboy human form unleashed

I had walked for weeks hungry and tired when I came across a Japanese shinto temple run by a strange kitsune “You seek growth don't you young cat?” The kitsune said and I was fucking shocked.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ME!?” I shouted and she nodded.

She walked over to me kneeling down “That's right I am connected with the Goddess and can help you train to unlock your potential” She told me.

We started training over the days as I lifted weights and did meditation under a waterfall to unlock the power of my mind so I could use mana and magic.

After a week I learned to fight as well as use magic and ki growing even more powerful plus I started working out with the most heaviest metal.

Finally the kitsune brought me to the temple priests to see how strong I got and I powered up AND TURNED INTO MY NEW HUMAN FORM! Through I still had cat ears but now I had the true power.

I also went super easily which impressed the kitsune whose name is Soki.

Entering the world of work

I said my farewells to Soki and headed out to the world as I got on a plane to the United States getting a job in anti terrorism with the CIA. I got my first gun and went on missions to hunt down all kinds of bad guys.

The worst ones where the sickos who tried to groom people on discord so I tracked them down then ripped their skin off and made them lay in a salt pile while keeping them alive for days while also having Dobermann dogs eat their flesh “Come on boy its sicko meat on the menu today” I laughed as the dogs killed them.

I got my biggest mission yet, I had to kill Kim Jong Un so I got a cool silver sniper rifle with the really cool custom paint job which was super rare. It was easy for me to sneak into the DPRK and wait for my chance as I blew Kims out brains end putting an end to the dictatorship and allowing the CIA to bring freedom.

Using the money I earned I was able to buy my first buster sword which was a high carbon blade so it was really fucking strong and could cut through heavy armour pretty easily “Fuck yes!” I said swinging the blade.

The profound darkness

I was training when a man in red robes with a staff approached me “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU BOTHERING ME WHILE I AM TRYING TO TRAIN TO GET STRONGER?!?!” I shouted at him because I was pretty fucking annoyed.

“My name is Garth LeVay and I can help you gain more power.” He said.

More training could be a good thing I thought “Alright I can give it a shot!” I said and decided to go to his cult temple.

There where men in red robes praying to some kind of being called The profound darkness and in the middle of the room was a black vortex as an evil sword rose from it “This is the blade Crystal pandemonium the ultimate weapon” said Garth as I picked up the blade feeling evil energy flow into me!

Suddenly my eyes turned a golden red and my hair a corrupted power “Haha I feel amazing!” I said giving into the power of the evil blade.

Suddenly I felt the devils power, that of profound darkness as I unleashed my anti super form and went on a rampage through the city killing thousands of people for fun and bathing in their blood while saying cursed verses.

The Crystal pandemonium blade continued to pour its corrupted satanic energy into me growing stronger with each kill “NO THIS ISN'T ME! FUCK YOU EVIL SWORD!” I roared ripping the sword away as I punched my chest pulling the evil corruption out and exploding it with ki energy.

I was low in energy as the sword and corrupted energy reformed into what looked like a double of me but with silver hair and a more girly outfit he was so lame “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

“I am ZENOS your dark reflection and I shall bring chaos and suffering to the human race” He giggled.

Angry I drew my buster sword and cut him in half, he didn't expect that.

The future world and meeting Cinos the hedgehog

I went to a Taoist temple to meditate and purify myself completely of the evil swords influence finally restoring myself to normal. After that I went back to that satanic cult going super mode and killing them all, that will teach them for making me kill all those people against my will.

That's when I noticed a crack in time which grew into a portal and I was fell in through the vortex of time.

I crashed into a lake as I swam to the shore finding myself in a strange world “Hey dude whatcha doing in the water?” A red hedgehog asked me.

“I was walking through the city when this fucking portal opened and I ended up in this place!” I told the hedgehog.

He ran around and was real fast “That's mondo weird, anyway my name is Cinos the hedgehog one of the freedom fighters against the evil Doctor Ivan Baconman, who are you?”

“MY NAME IS XENOS!” I smirked.

Cinos did a cool flip “That's a way past cool name, you should join the north island military forces to help us fight the human kingdom being lead by Doctor Baconman.”

I accepted because this Doctor Baconman sounded like a real piece of shit and I needed missions to keep me busy while I was stuck in this strange world.

The military training school and a betrayal

Cinos introduced me to Felix the fox, Fist the echidna and the rest of his friends at the North island military training camp. They explained I was on the planet Parabus and Doctor Baconman an evil scientist took over the human religion becoming the new pope using it was a way to control stupid people as his army where wiping the lands and nature out.

Baconman had wiped out every kingdom leaving only the human west and the Northern forest kingdom lead by the furry military.

I trained to use every kind of fire arm and learning how to use tactical gear to become a better solder in the fight against Western empire and its religious goons serving Baconman.

Me, Cinos, Felix and Fist went on lots of missions together pushing back against the empires robots and zealots.

One night we where having a feast in the military base when Colonel Blackhawk our CO came in, he was a black wolf furry who I respected.

Or well used to respect at least.

“I hope you are enjoying the meal I have good tidings for you” Colonel Blackhawk said as he got everyone's attention.

Cinos seemed nervous “What's the news? I hope its mondo cool and we've finally beaten Doctor Baconman.” Cinos smiled.

“We are going to join Doctor Baconman and merge our army into his. In fact he is on his way here right now for the ceremony.” Said the colonel.

I slammed my fists on the table in fury “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? YOU WANT TO JOIN THAT FUCKING GOD DAMN MONSTER ASSHOLE DOCTOR IVAN BACONMAN WHAT THE FUCK!” I screamed at the colonel and everyone else was angry and upset too.

Cinos jumped on the table “Yeah colonel what the hell? That's way past uncool!”

Disappointed with us Colonel Blackhawk took out his magnum pointing it at me “Arrest these traitors they will be hung for treason!” The colonel said.

“Go fuck yourself!” I said and punched him so hard his jaw shattered then Cinos spin dashed him into a wall killing him.

Fist took care of the soldiers sent to arrest us “We need to escape before Doctor Baconman arrives here and its too late” Fist said and we escaped fighting through 100s of soldiers as we made it to the hanger and stole a jump jet.

“I can pilot this.” Said Felix and we flew away as we saw Ivan Baconmans fleet arrive in the Northern kingdom bringing an end to freedom on the planet Parabus.

[magicalyaku]

I had to write like three emails this month and am left thoroughly drained to write anything else at all. x_x Apart from that, though, my January was actually pretty good. I finally talked my coworker into getting the snowboard trophy in Tales of Vesperia for me because I failed horribly at it and it was the last one missing for Platinum. My friend and I spent like 3 hours thinking up the plot for an entire novel because I complained that books are always about that but never about this. Aaand I got a new bookshelf! So let's fill it up!

In Love with Adam (Liam Erpenbach): This is by a German author whose newer book "Solange wir die Sterne sehen" I read a few months ago. I liked this one a bit better. It's not quite as heavy (no sick boyfriends) but still reasonably serious. Funnily, I found the writing style of this easier to read than his second book. In return, the pacing is bit wonky. I'll keep an eye open for the author's next book! (I'd actually like to read more local authors. :I)

If this gets out (Sophie Gonzales & Cale Dietrich): This one was ... long. Not that it was boring or bad. But for what happenend I think it could have done with a few pages less. I'm also not totally sold on the "two authors writing one story in alternating points of view"-thing. While they claim in the afterword that the other author captured the characters oh so well in their respective chapters I would not fully agree. They did sometimes feel a little off. If I had to choose betweeen rereading this or Kiss & Tell, I'd choose the latter. :'D

Hell followed with us (Andrew J. White): Now this was something. It's the sort of "I have a vision and I'm going with it all the way to the far end no matter what you say", which earns my full respect. While I wouldn’t say I loooved the book, it sure was really good and I had great time (as much as you can have if everyone is dying). I liked the characters and they deserve all the happiness they can get! :( I just wonder how much of the story and the imagery I missed. There's a lot of Bible quotes in there - would it have made for a different reading experience if I had actually touched a Bible in my life? Also my ability to visualise things in my mind is very limited, so all the gruesome gorey stuff? Can hardly affect me. But it also made it harder to track Benji's descent (ascent?) to monsterhood. Good book. And that cover!

The Circus Infinite (Khan Wong): I rarely read true science-fiction, even though I like the genre in other media. Not quite sure why. Maybe it's also partly because of my lack of visualisation. It's hard work. :'D The Circus was a little hard for me as well, but you get pretty close to the main character Jes at least and that helps. Most of the others stay a bit underdeveloped though. The love interest for instance? I don't think he had much going on except being "perfect". 8D But to their credit, that really wasn't the point of the story. The romance was really healthy though, which is a big bonus point with Jes being ace. A year ago I read Beyond the Black Door by A.M. Strickland. I hated the romance in there and got so annoyed in the beginning already because the ace main character works or is expected to work as a pleasure artist and they spent so much time talking about sex and I was like “Why do you think I wanted to read an ace book?! You’re talking more about it than any other book I ever read!! D:” Of course, Jes ends up on a “pleasure” planet as well and has to visit a sex club in the course of the story. He’s also an empath and can suss other people’s horniness among other feelings which makes it even harder for him. But all of that was handled much better and more organically than in Black Door, so I didn’t mind it. There’s also a lot of real adventure going on that revolves around other things. Recommended.

Carry On (Simon Snow 1) (Rainbow Rowell): Finally something light and easy! As always, I was in need of a fantasy story, so after years I finally caved and borrowed this from the library. It was fun! There's only one thing to nitpick (careful, long rant ahead): My personal preference of points of view. I don't like first-person. I strongly dislike alternating first-person. Do I still read a lot of it? Yes. Because I've gotten a whole lot more tolerant during the past two years (I ditched so many books before because of their first-person narrators. :'D) But if I held on to that I'd read like three books a year. If the writing is decent enough, I can accept a lot. But I grew up on third-person, and am also German, so I complain! Take Bone Weaver by Aden Polydoros. First-person for the heroine only. We don't get anything that happens between the boys while she's not looking and it sucks! D: Hell followed with us has three points of view. Main narrator is Ben in first-person, but there's also Nick and Theo who get third-person. Mixing things up like that is so weird to me, especially since they only get 3 chapters in the whole book! Like, if a character only gets to narrate a single chapter, is it even worth to put in? Surprisingly to myself my answer is yes. It still feels weird, but I appreciate very much the inclusion of these chapters and wish Bone Weaver would have done the same. Now there's Simon Snow. And I lost count on how many people are narrating. Six? I accomodated to it as the story progressed and everyone actually got more involved. But ... Do I really need 4 perspective changes within the span of one kiss? (No.) :I I wish third-person would get popular again. The infinite possibilities it holds. u_u But I try to be a tolerant person and not let that spoil my enjoyment of the book. Will be picking up the other volumes soon!

The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley (Shaun David Hutchinson): I read the author's latest book Howl last month and now one of his oldest and I'm glad that I read them in that order! Because in Howl there's a lot of shitty people and bad stuff happening. In Five Stages of Andrew, there's still bad people (but they are “out there” away from the story) and bad shit happening but there's also a lot of nice people. Like genuinely nice people. It kinda rebuilds my hope in humanity. xD It’s also smart as usual and there are comic pages inside! It’s a really nice book indeed and yes, it made me cry.

I complained before how many of the books I read lack the balls to do really mean things to the main characters (there are some stragglers of course, looking at you, Mason Deaver), and I'm honestly not really good with bad stuff either. I like to know that things will be okay in the end. But. It makes you love them more, doesn't it? My favourite books of all times, the one I worship and adore, is an old German children’s book Die Katze Leonore (”Leonore, the cat”) about a kitten that gets abandoned because her fur is black unlike her siblings. And really bad stuff happens to her (she loses a paw and later dies). I bawled my eyes out when I read it the first time as a kid. And it made me love that cat and every cat in the world. My friends are always baffled when I laugh out loud about funny books even in public. But I’ll cry easily too when they’re sad. Those stay a lot longer in the heart. So come on, my books, give me feels this year as well, please. uAu

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Feels weird to say this publicly on the Internet but because I'm in the minority here I feel obligated to speak up: I actually enjoy my period most times, yeah. The main benefits are that it makes me really horny and also more creative. It makes me want to be around men and think about fictional men even more than usual. It gives me vivid dreams (sometimes sexy ones). It intensifies all of my emotions, which is obviously kind of a mixed bag because that means intense happiness, love, and so on but also intense anger, sadness, and all the other negative emotions. But in general I prefer this, because I'm very depressed most of the time, the effect of which is that I often have difficulty feeling anything at all. In a lot of ways, I feel more alive during my period, and I genuinely feel sad if I feel that I've "wasted" a period by not taking advantage of that time to do something particularly fun and/or productive. My periods are also quite short, so I usually only get a couple days of these benefits.

My period is pretty regular, so I also appreciate its function as a biological clock. Depression and ADHD mean that I have a lot of difficulty keeping track of the passage of time, so if my literal body didn't give me a monthly "Hey It's Been a Month Already" reminder, I would probably be even more lost in time than I am now.

There are some caveats to this, though. What I'm describing above is if I have a "good" period. If something happens to make me weaker during this time (like getting sick, an extremely stressful event, not being able to meet my basic needs like food, water, etc. for some reason), then it can definitely be a bad time. In those situations, I do get symptoms like cramps, nausea, fatigue, and irritability. But even so, what I experience is very mild compared to what many people go through.

Also I feel the need to say this because a lot of people don't know this: DO NOT consume dairy on your period. It seems like the science on this subject is still questionable but anecdotally I can say that consuming dairy definitely makes me super ill when I'm on my period. I cut out dairy 100% during my period, make sure I have oat milk available instead of regular milk, and it makes a huge difference. I also avoid anything overly fatty/greasy.

So yeah, that's me. I'm really curious if anyone else can relate. I can't be the only one.

my therapist was a bit shook by how much i detest my period, and i was shocked to find out out not everyone does....