#some things posted are by different people under max's name.

[nightzskii]

dont mind this post

looking at old tags the best i can

[dizzyduck44]

Andrea Stella opened a huge can of worms yesterday. The thing we all seem to have forgotten about for two years.

Firstly let’s remind ourselves that in 2020 and 21, Andrea was a back room figure at McLaren. Mentioned but rarely seen, hardly ever interviewed. Zak and Andreas were doing the heavy lifting in interviews and to be fair they weren’t happy about decisions. I don’t think anyone was more vocal about the FIAs lack of transparency regarding the agreement they had come to with Ferrari than Zak.

Pretty sure after Brazil 21 Zak said he felt that Max’s defence was “over the line”.

People forget in Jeddah in 2021 McLaren were frantically trying to get the stewards to confirm Lando could restart the race from the position he was in at the timing line, not when the red flag was thrown as he had slowed down to avoid a crash and been overtaken. However the stewards were too busy letting Red Bull negotiate their starting position, whilst forgetting Esteban was leading the race. They eventually confirmed to McLaren yes Lando should start further forward on the formation lap to the grid. Far too late for him to take that position.

In Abu Dhabi McLaren were prepping Lando to use his newer tyres to get past Lewis as quick as possible before Max caught them up, just stay out the title fight, when the game changed and half the grid were let through and now it was Daniel sat behind Lewis and Max. Daniel expressed some uncertainty about it all from the car. Post race Daniel, Lando and Zak all spoke about how they didn’t feel comfortable with what the FIA had done.

And then the FIA “investigated” the matter and “spoke” to everyone. And the whole F1 grid fell silent.

Since Monaco this year there has been some really questionable calls by the stewards. There seems to be a level of manipulation of results going on? But subtly. Some would maybe even argue Miami when the safety car appears to have been delayed/inexplicably missed the race leader.

I’ve seen lots of Max fans arguing that if he had known about Lando’s penalty sooner. Well firstly Max knew Lando was on three strikes and then he told the team Lando had gone off again. Max knew. Yes Austria is a short lap but 3 laps to investigate a clear track limit (it wasn’t even subtle). Which leads me to question were the stewards already looking into Max moving under braking? Were they looking at was Lando forced off the track? Were they looking at penalties for both that would effectively wipe each other’s out? If so that is clear manipulation of a result hidden behind rules.

So yes Andrea was completely justified to lay full blame at the feet of the FIA. Why would Max stop doing something he has never been consistently punished for? Had they addressed this 3 years ago Max would have had to change. Max showed in Baku in 2023 his attitude hadn’t changed when he squared up with George, effectively threatening an eye for an eye. Drivers have been highlighting this about Max since 2015. The FIA have increased the penalties this year but what have they been doing for the last three years about this? Diddly sqwat! Did the FIA mishandle the situations prior to lap 64? Absolutely.

The difference is Andrea did it calmly and articulately. He didn’t call Christian Horner any names. He didn’t accuse Max of cheating or being a dirty driver. He literally told the FIA look at the mess you have made. You finally get wheel to wheel driving and your inaction comes back to bite you.

No offence George having someone who was 15 seconds off the pace inherit the race is not what F1 is about. Andrea knows that and it’s not what he wants the sport to be.

McLaren were never staying quiet about what was going on. They may begrudgingly accept the FIAs decisions at times but they were one of the few teams who have raised concerns since 2020 onwards consistently. The difference is yesterday EVERYONE took notice of what they said.

[laura1633]

I was hoping to post my "business man Charles & brothel cleaner/ (sort of) sex worker Max" one shot a few days ago but it keeps growing and is over 10,000 words somehow so here is a little snippet. The full thing will be posted very soon.

“So do I have to pay more for the shower? They said a flat rate plus tip for the night.”

Max opens his mouth to try and explain that the only thing he is really allowed to do for a client in the shower is clean it but then Charles slips his trousers off and all rational thought leaves his mind. Toto always says the best type of clients are satisfied clients and he also says that the client is always right. If Charles thinks Max is a sex worker then by Toto’s reckoning Max is a sex worker. Or at least that is the excuse Max plans on using when his boss finds out he jumped into the shower with one of their high value clients. 

“No extra charges,” Max takes a steadying breath, “They just uh - , they just didn’t tell me exactly what you wanted.” 

Charles is already heading on through to the bathroom so Max hurriedly kicks off his shoes and socks as he hops after him and tries to work out if he should be trying to slip into some sort of sexy alter ego,

“I didn’t specify,” Charles sets about turning the shower on, “I’m not into anything you might consider out the ordinary.”

Max nods although he’s not entirely sure if out of the ordinary holds a different meaning when it comes to sex work. It doesn’t really matter because as Charles steps out of the last of his clothing Max decides he’d be up for pretty much anything. Charles could put a leash on him and ask him to bark like a dog and he’d do it gladly. 

“I just asked them to send me someone special, after all this is a celebration,” Charles closes the gap between them and Max drags his gaze back up from where it’s been fixed on Charles’ rather sizeable dick. 

“Special?”

“Special” Charles repeats softly, his breath warm against Max’s lips as they come face to face, “I think they’ve done an excellent job of fulfilling that.” 

Max’s cheeks darken as he blushes, something he hopes Charles writes off as being down to the increasing humidity as the steam from the shower starts to fill the space. 

“You’re a blusher” Charles grins, “I like that. Very cute.”

Max’s blush deepens and from the way his ears feel burn he’s almost certain the redness has extended right up to the tips of his ears. Any thoughts of adopting some confident sexy persona evaporate into the shower mist. 

“You’re not shy are you?” Charles coos as he tugs at the bottom of Max’s t-shirt.

“I’m not shy” Max lies as he lifts his shirt up over his head and resists the urge to ask how he looks. He’s not in bad shape but he’s not sure he has the type of body people pay for, if Charles isn’t satisfied then Max knows that there’s a chance he could just ask for someone else, which would be mortifying.

He’s just about to ask if he’s good enough when Charles’ mouth finds his and he’s moaning into it pathetically. If the way Charles is kissing him is anything to go by then Charles doesn’t appear to disappointed in him. Far from it. 

“Lets get you out of the rest of these” Charles dips his fingertips along the inside waistband of Max’s sweatpants and eases them down. If Charles is having buyers remorse then there’s no sign of that registering on his face, in fact Max can’t help but feel a fluttering in his stomach with the way Charles is looking at him. 

“I like to use names,” Charles interlaces his fingers with Max’s as he leads him over to the shower, “I presume that is okay?”

“Like slut?” Max says before he can engage his brain. It’s a semi-reasonable guess, or at least he thinks it is, it’s met with laughter though. 

“I was thinking more sweetheart, princess, that type of thing” Charles is still chuckling as he grips at Max’s hips and manoeuvres him under the spray of the shower, “Okay sweetheart?

[nightmanatee]

reasons why it might be safi all along PART 2

part 1 is here

or why the final choice to "accept" is the only correct one (for max at least).

i have a few things to talk about: safi's threat (talked a bit about it in part 1 addition) and what she might do with it later and what i think might (should) happen in DE2. i only talk about bae timeline bc i've played in that timeline but i'm pretty sure it applies to bay as well (replace chloe with joyce/warren/kate/victoria).

part 1 (again). she wanted to threaten max.

if you look closely at safi's pattern with gwen and lucas you can clearly see that she can do a lot of things bc of the book cancelation and considering that max has been in her life during this time in the end of ep3 safi thinks that max was responsible for it as well. she's had 2 chances to threaten max:

once where she didn't know max had powers:

ngl pretty sure safi was gonna say something along the lines of "that's why she left you - bc you're fucked up and evil and ready to mess up with your friend's book deal for a little "fame" caledon can offer you" had max not fallen from that place.

and once - when she knew max had powers.

"how best to hurt lucas" and it's her literally messing up with a KID who had nothing to do with that. but what does safi have against max when she WILL hurt her?

part 2 (again). "how best to hurt max caulfield"

wait will? yes will. bc someone did end up lying to her and last time it happened the other person got shot (and it was her own mother!!)

she has 1. max's memories box with lots of info on arcadia bay, max's parents and CHLOE+the fact that chloe and max were impersonating pirates as kids (important for later). AND WITH A BREAK UP LETTER.

2. this photo of chloe and max being very close (is it really a coincidence that they've remade this pic to look more intimate?)

3. THE PICTURE IN A WALLET that will tell safi who to look for in max's house

4. potentially! diary entries (they're different from timeline to timeline or at least should be bc max didn't write about her powers here but these are same in 2 timelines):

5. max's own words

so ugh this ex-friend of hers who hurt her by not agreeing with her and decided to stay with others has ugh photos, diary entries (written to someone as if they're unsent letters) and stuff about some girl who max even mentions in her confession about powers. someone who made her stop using her powers for YEARS before getting into caledon? ugh i wonder what she's gonna do with this info...

part 3 (again). safi the investigator.

okay. so. safi's turned into present day max. unless max will try to change her hair style/hair color/do some piercings to alter her look so that everyone can know it's safi and not her doing this stuff and considering that safi can "act" as someone else as well she can do whatever she wants to hurt max's reputation or meet someone who knows max?

and oh. safi knows about chloe. she knows she's max's old friend/ex who max sacrificed the whole town for. she's the most important person in max's life and if safi wants to hurt max this is the person she should be looking for. but how?

oh easily. not only does max have no friends but she has a memory box with her and chloe with lot's of polaroids and pirate themed kids stuff. she knows that chloe's name is chloe and what she looks like. so who is this _CaptainChloe_ girl who max follows on social media?

the girl that so stupidly (i can't blame her she doesn't know that a fucking shapeshifter is after her) left the info for where to look for her in her posts? and who also comments under another person who max follows??

i wonder if one brokenhearted shapeshifter would want to meet a close... friend of a person who betrayed her when she was in the most vulnerable state considering how she's messed up with people for less and without evidence of them being guilty.

so yeah if done right max will wish she accepted that thing with safi.

[minkyungseokie]

Toxicity within Formula One

I usually never give my own opinions on anything Formula One related because I’m afraid of getting hate, but I am sick of it, and I will finally want my opinion heard.

For a sport that’s not as popular as any other sport in the world, there is so much toxicity and animosity between fans. Either fans of people on the same team or fans of people on different teams are going at each other for no reason and it mostly happens within Ferrari, Mercedes, and Red Bull. Lately, Mercedes has been infighting more than worrying about anything else.

You’ve got(and I’m not generalizing the fans. I’m calling out all the toxic ones. So, when I say fans, I meant the highly toxic people who be smirch others names and hype up their own favorite)

Russell fans calling Hamilton washed and occasionally saying racist things about him

Hamilton fans discrediting Georgia’s achievements and saying he will never be as good as Hamilton(also the people who are stuck on Abu Dhabi 2021)

Carlos fans making fun of Georges crash and saying the rudest things about Hamilton just because of a decision to not keep Carlos with the occasional racism

Charles fans doing the exact same thing Carlos fans are doing, but on a little bit lighter level because I haven’t really seen Charles fans being as rude to Lewis as Carlos fans

Max fans thinking they are on top of the world and absolutely nothing can touch them and being toxic overall

I don’t really see a lot of Checo fans, but the ones I have seen are always overshadowed by the max fans, but they are still toxic

Alex fans hating on Logan just because he’s not as good as Alex. Pretty much everyone’s fans hating on Logan for being American AB’s being xenophobic

Logan fans are pretty chill, but with what happened yesterday, they aren’t as chill as you think. There is no reason that they should be sending hate, and death threats to Alex because of a decision that was not his.

Fernando fans are pretty chill usually when I look at the comment section of Aston Martin. Unless it comes down to the LGBTQ. The amount of hate towards the LGBTQ under Aston Martin’s post by both Still fans, Alonso fans, and other team’s fans is disgusting.

Stroll fans usually don’t do anything except try to defend their favorite person, but I can assure you that they are not innocent just because you rarely see them being toxic. The whole thing with Bianca proved that, but I’m pretty sure that it was mostly just people who usually don’t like Stroll taking the chance to be misogynistic instead of criticizing her like everyone else was doing

Yuki fans, journalists, and other fans just calling Daniel washed and saying that he should give his seat up to Liam and wishing horrinle thing upon him

Daniel fans infantilizing Yuki, occasionally being racist, making fun of things he cannot control, and just being overall terrible people towards Yuki

And that’s not even all of it because then there’s the fighting of other teams still going on. And the overall hatred of Alpine for some reason.

Now, I can’t say much for the fans of Kick, Alpine, and Haas. I scroll through their comment sections and it’s usually people criticizing the team itself for their crappy cars or crappy pitstop. I don’t follow Haas so I don’t know how their comment section is like.

Of course, there are toxic people within those three teams fandom too, but go to their comment section, it’s mostly wholesome. Still toxic occasionally, but way more wholesome than Mercedes, Ferrari, and Red Bulls

I didn’t forget about McLaren, but they seem to actually be moderating their comment sections

I’m aware of how toxic Instagram is, but it’s not just on Instagram. It’s on YouTube, TikTok, Twitter, I’m not calling Twitter X.

I know this is probably just going to get me hated on, and I’m probably yapping about nothing, but I feel like people take things way too seriously.

This is a sport. Meant for enjoyment and entertainment. I understand that not everyone is going to get along, and that there’s always going to be toxic people, but some of those same toxic people get upset when people are toxic towards their favorite.

This is probably all sounding like absolute Yapanese right now and I’m sorry if I haven’t properly got my point across. I’ll fix this in the morning when I’m more clear minded, but I wanted to point out just how toxic this fandom is. It’s more toxic than any other fandom I’ve been in except for K-pop

These are screenshots of responses to a comment on RB’s post about Yuki actually being in P7 after Alonso got a penalty. The comment said let’s not hate on Daniel because he will pick it back up. This is only a taste of what I mean.

I can’t even go back to Ferrari to screenshot comments and explain what I mean and I’m not going to Red Bulls page for that either because seeing the comments make me sick. But this is what I mean. And these are the tame ones.

Formula One fans need to realize that these men are not toys. They are not just entertainment. They are human beings with feelings who make mistakes just like everyone else does. They do, say, and act very stupidly, sometimes, but that does not warrant some of the stuff that is said to them. They do not deserve death threats, and hate just for crashing and being afraid for their life or enjoying a win they deserve.

They are not toys. They are human beings. Just like you and me and they deserve respect because they put their lives on the line to do with their love and entertain their fans.

Speaking of fans while I’m at it. Respect the privacy of the drivers. Someone filming George Russell while he’s using the year or not and posting it on TikTok is not okay and should never ever be considered okay

Here are some comments from George’s post where he’s apologizing for crashing and saying that he’s going to try to do better

And don’t even get me started on the Ferrari fans bitching about Carlos leaving. It’s an extreme sport, no one‘s going to stay on their team forever just because they got one win and a couple of podium. I hate to sound toxic, but the way some of those, grown ass men and women are talking about Hamilton as if he’s not the seven time world champion as wild. It’s not Hamilton’s fault that Ferrari thought he would be a better fit.

I sincerely love Ferrari and their drivers, and I wish him the best and it makes me happy to see them win, but it does not make me happy to see the fans thinking that they rule the world, and that no one on the grid is better than Carlos. I love Carlos, but if Hamilton had a better car and Max‘s car didn’t start setting itself on fire, he would not have won.

Again, I hate to say that because it sounds like I’m hating on him, but I’m not. That’s why I like Tumblr better, because the people on TikTok, Twitter, and Instagram, are all… I don’t even even know how to say it without sounding weird. So this is where I’ll end it for now.

And before anyone says anything, I know it’s an extreme sport and people are gonna hate on someone that’s not their favorite driver, but the people I’m talking about are taking it way too far. You shouldn’t hate on anyone just because they aren’t your favorite in general, But I’ve seen a Ferrari fan called Hamilton a monkey because he’s going to be joining the team.

I’ve seen a Daniel fan say only sushi eaters like Yuki. As in, only Japanese people like Yuki, and nobody else.

There’s a difference between expressing your dislike towards something somebody did, and something somebody has said, and being extremely toxic. Some of you might have even been those toxic people if you are, do better, because even just saying something like that on the Internet can make karma come for you.

[taeiris]

okay guys here’s my crazy unsupported st5 theory that is mostly just me projecting my need for madwheeler bonding and drama and angst also byler duh

disclaimers: i never make theories so this is extremely messy probably, i know jack dookie abt writing shows i think of this as my own little version of what i would think would be very cool to happen, if this has loop holes dont ask me anything bc idk either

OKAY LETS GET ON IT

so first things first here is what i am taking into consideration for the theory to happen:

• mike pov, self reflection and introspection (he is gay and in love with will byers okay)

• madwheeler bonding, theyre both complex n misunderstood

• the upside down isnt just one dimension, i came up with this bc of how different the ud looks now

compared to when henry arrived.

to me theres like an umbrella dimension (yellow one) and others under it (blue one/hawkins ud, the void, etc)

this is also lowkey supported by the silly boobie diagram the writers posted abt

OKAY PREPARE FOR THE WORD VOMIT

in this silly theory of mine, a new dimension variant of the ud will be revealed in season 5, serving as a parallel to the void. this is where max is

OKAY another thing is this is also heavily based on those “leaks” that were going around twitter (for me at least) earlier when the strike first started. i remember a few of them claiming that we would get a deeper insight into mike and his own things, so this is my interpretation

this would serve as another vanishing, not really bc its shorter, but this time mike will be getting stuck in this other dimension, eventually finding max BOOM madwheeler serve

i mean look at them. the potential is insane

ANYWAYS

this dimension is like a combo of all the other ones, picture it like the hawkins ud, with the void’s wet floor maybe

lets go back to the fact max is here, this is her coma nightmare, its like this purgatory dimension vecna put her soul in

in this dimension inhabit your ghosts

this overwhelming, haunting, tormenting realm in your mind where you are constantly confronting all your bad memories, maybe this is kind of how vecna keeps max under his grasp, no happy memories allowed

okay so, mike gets there. how? when? i dont fucking know this is honestly just word vomit fanfiction to me

at first hes confused, scared but mostly confused, picture him screaming for wills name (the parallels) at first it’s empty and eerily quiet, but as he accepts it, the ghosts start coming in.

he gets BOMBARDED with these bad memories, some of them he cant even remember because come on, bro is always neglecting his internalized feelings/monologue in fear of what they say about him

this is where we get his pov on the whole will and eleven situation, amongst other things (like the way he’s constantly stressed thinking about the safety of the people he loves)

for a moment we see him break, bc these ghosts are LOUD and MANY

but it stops

max is here, she’s like “MIKE?”

“MAX?”

shes been here for a fat minute, she knows how to handle these ghosts in fact shes been going thru them one by one ever since, because shes done hiding. and she suspects that the only way to get out is by confronting them.

max saves mike from his ghosts, explains that this place is seemingly a purgatory with levels of memories and ghosts to overcome

this is how we get our madwheeler bonding we so graciously need, as they are part of eachother ghosts since theyre so similar it makes the other mad

this is how our complex misunderstood characters are broken down, explained to the audience, while also discovering the mystery that is this new dimension where at the finish line they might just figure out how to defeat vecna.

because they will

after overcoming the ghosts they find the place that vecna didnt think they would reach as he was so sure they would break and collapse on their own madness

think of it as how el found the source in season 3

or how max found vecnas lair after running away in dear billy

except this place is vecnas actual mind, they can see hear and feel what vecna is thinking, his plans and everything

mike wonders how will feels being able to feel this all the time

will feels this all the time

will is always connected to this piece of vecnas mind, to this source

he can always hear vecna

until he suddenly hears max… and mike and theyre calling for help

theyve figured out key clues on how to defeat vecna, and they have an idea on how to get out. this is how will’s connection comes in handy

mind walkie-talkie

maybe thats what this theory should be called, idk

-

so thats how we get our byler confirmation, madwheeler bonding like never before, mike focus, and the key to defeat vecna

at least in my head

i know this was messy and all over the place but it was very fun to explain and drop all my thoughts ive been vomiting on the gc for months now

let me know what you think, what you would add, if theres anything you think will support this theory?

its all just a theory, for fun! pls keep that in mind

thank you if you’ve read this far🫶

[nobodysdaydreams]

Hatchetverse theory: As many have speculated, Mark Chasity from NPMD is also Mark from “Workin’ Boys” (but it’s more complicated than you might think…)

More thoughts under the keep reading, part of my #hatchetverse theory posts.

Despite the popularity of the “Mark Chasity is Mark from Workin’ Boys” headcanon, some Starkid fans will say that there is no way Mark Chasity can be Mark from the “Workin’ Boys” (even though Curt Mega plays them both), because even if the “playing football, majoring in business, and getting struck by lightning” thing happened in a different timeline than NPMD, it still doesn’t explain how he can have Grace as a daughter in Workin’ Boys if he died years before she was born.

I, however, would like to humbly offer the following alternatives:

A) In the Workin’ Boys timeline, Mark dies after Grace is born. Depending on how old Grace’s parents were when they had Grace and got married and how old Mark was when he died (possibly just out of college), this could imply that like little Jerry in “Lumberaxe”, Grace was also born out of wedlock and Mark and Karen had her in college before they got married (though this doesn’t necessarily have to be the case as they could have just gotten married really young, and honestly, I could see that with these two. Plus I want to see the drama that would unfold within the Workin’ Boys over who gets to be Mark’s best man).

B) I suppose it could also technically be possible Grace was never Mark’s daughter to begin with (she’s actually adopted or Karen had an affair), but nothing in NPMD implies either of these are true, and that wouldn’t explain why Grace would still have Mark’s last name in a Workin’ Boys timeline where he died before she was born (unless the family uses Karen’s last name or a new one they made up).

C) Like her daughter, Karen Chasity fell for a ghost. Or maybe they were already dating before Mark was struck by lightning. But in the NPMD timeline, after Mark dies, he (for some reason) keeps most of his normal personality and is just a normal friendly ghost. Like Max Jagerman’s ghost, people can see him, and he can interact with people. Maybe he has a personal vendetta or grudge against Henry which is why he haunts him in “Workin’ Boys”, but besides that, nothing changes. Mark is just a ghost now. Hence why Grace has a strong connection to the afterlife and is always warning people about hell (the black), and why the LIB are so focused on targeting her in NPMD: she’s technically “half-ghost”. Anyway, this could also possibly be part of why Mark wants to sell the Waylon Place (could be some afterlife business he needs to take care of).

D) In the NPMD timeline, Henry is struck by lightning and dies instead of Mark. I don’t think we see Henry or hear any mention of him in NPMD, so this is possible. In the “Workin’ Boys” timeline, Mark dies but still has Grace as his daughter due to any of the three reasons listed above.

[ihni]

Things I love to read in Billy and/or Harringrove fanfiction:

(Inspired by @grey-sides and in the hopes of spreading some love)

Billy and Max overcoming their problems to form a united front and start working together, and become better siblings to each other.

Realizations. The "oh" moments. The "oh shit" moments, the "oh fuck" moments, the "oh no no no..." moments. ALL the realizations! (So, like ... the boys finding out they're into each other, anyone finding out about Billy's home life, Billy finding out about monsters, both of them finally seeing another - more vulnerable - side of each other, etc etc etc)

This whole post

Billy getting to fight monsters too, especially if he can use it as an outlet for all that aggression and be badass and save people's asses and then be all blasé about it like "what? it's not like it's hard" *hair flip* (also Billy and an axe will NEVER be over-played!)

Physical whump (bruises, blood, hiding injuries, fighting, being pushed up against surfaces, threats, hands grabbing faces and throats and hair, being made to kneel, incapacitation, fighting through exhaustion/illness, manhandling, etc etc. I'm a whumper at heart, I want to inject all these things into my veins).

Emotional whump (being left out of things/ostracization, feeling lonely, overhearing something hurtful, keeping a straight face even though you're hurting inside, not expecting someone to come and save you when you're hurt/captive etc etc - ie my bread and butter).

Billy patching himself up (BOTH phisical and emotional whump, so, like a double-whammy!)

Billy in the upside down, as a very capable survivor. Give me Cast Away, only with Billy, and the Upside Down instead of an island ... ALL THE VERSIONS of that. I like my boy capable, and fighting for survival (I'm normal, I swear)

This post

Billy being touch-starved. I eat that up with a SPOON, all versions of it but especially the ones where he gets touch (angsty version; it's not a good kind of touch but he seeks it out anyway, fluffy version; he gets all the pets and hugs!)

The boys coming back from the upside down and having gotten used to being close, so they get anxious when they don't have eyes on each other (yes I've written it. yes I've read it. yes I love it)

Having to share a room/doing a project togehter because their last names both start with H. Like forced proximity, school version. Mmmm, delicious.

When Billy is ridiculously weak for Steve and would do anything for him (especially if Steve has no idea about he power he wields). Basically Steve as the Billy-whisperer.

Billy getting good parents. I don't even care who at this point, I'll read all of them: Joyce, Hopper, Claudia, Mr Clarke (Mr CLARKE <3), Bob, Flo, that grumpy librarian ... Just give him good parental figures (and let him STRUGGLE with accepting that he's finally safe!)

Scars. All the fics about scars. Angsty scars, proud scars, mental scars, scars on the skin, first time someone is allowed to touch someone else's scars. Just, <3

Badass, BADASS moments, by both Billy and Steve. Smashing demodogs to pieces, rescuing themSELVES from bad situations, etc.

Guilt. <3 That usually comes after the realization moments, but mmmmm, a side of guilt to that? Fucking delicious, I will live off that for weeks. Like, having someone realize what Neil is doing and then feeling GUILTY about it (maybe they caused Billy to be hurt, or maybe they made it worse, or maybe a beating could have been avoided if they'd acted differently), that's my JAM.

That moment when Billy/Steve start calling the other by their first name instead of their last name ...

Self-sacrifice (filed under whump, but can be both physical, mental or simply implied). There doesn't even have to be a real threat of getting hurt, the self-sacrificing idiot (I prefer Billy) just have to THINK there is.

Basic needs not being met ... until they are. (So, say ... Billy being hungry, thirsty, tired, thrown out of the house ... and then finally getting to eat, drink, sleep, get inside)

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Epilogue

I want to thank everyone for the lovely support. I saw a couple questions about the other characters in the comment section of the last one and wanted to clear up a couple of things. Crystal=Argyle (he picked the name because he thought it sounded cool), Onyx=Dimitri (like @n0-1-important guessed in part 11). Diamond and his family were all OCs more on them here. Michelle (the whiny chick in the art class) is the only other OC. I tried as much as possible to include characters from the show when I could.

And to answer @ goodolefashionedloverboi‘s question: Jonathan and Nancy are in couple’s therapy and are doing better.

And then one final thing to explain (the curses of doing a WIP and posting it one at a time not every thread I put down got picked up again, oops!) is the garnet rings. I love gem stones and geology. It fascinates me so much so that I took it as an elective in high school. When I was researching a fic (don’t remember which one now) I was looking at Eddie’s rings. And a lot of people were making replicas with hard stones like hematite, onyx, or something that didn’t have cuts or facets. But Eddie’s ring sparkles. It’s clearly a gemstone. So I went looking up grey or black gemstones. I found a couple it could be but they weren’t discovered until the 90s (and while the ACTUAL stone the prop maker used could be that, I COULDN’T call it that). And then I found a grey garnet. It was a perfect match. It sparkles the way his does, the different shades it gets from the show, spot on. Hence the garnet.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17

*

Two years later:

Variety Interview with Corroded Coffin

Max Mayfield: Hello, can you guys introduce yourselves for the people that have been hiding under a rock for the last two years?

They all laugh.

Jeff: I’m Jeff Lawrence, I’m rhythm guitar.

Gareth: I’m Gareth Hughes, I’m on drums.

Brian: I’m Brian Martin, I’m the bass guitarist.

Eddie: And I’m Eddie Munson, frontman, lead guitar, lead vocalist, and songwriter.

MM: That’s a lot of titles for one person.

JL: That’s because he’s the most dramatic out of all of us. He has to have allll the titles. Can’t share with the rest of us.

EM: Hey!

They all laugh again.

BM: Hey, you know it’s true.

EM: Yeah...but you’re giving away all my secrets right off the bat. Can’t you save some for later in the interview.

The other three look at each other.

JL, BM, GH: No.

Eddie throws his arms in the air.

EM: I’m telling Steve!

The other three look mock frightened for all of three seconds before they start laughing at him.

JL: You know Steve would agree with us.

Eddie pouts

MM: Can you tell us who Steve is?

Eddie fiddles with the singular ring on his right hand, looking down, bashfully. It one that I haven’t seen. Everyone is familiar with the the three chunky rings on his left hand. But this one is on his ring finger. The grey stone flashes as he plays with it.  

EM: He’s the love of my life and my muse.

JL: He’s an art teacher back home.

BM: He’s our Eddie wrangler.

GH: He’s our band mascot.

I laugh.

MM: He sounds pretty special. How did you guys meet?

JL: We all went to high school together, actually.

MM: Oh, so were you high school sweethearts, then?

Eddie laughs.

GH: Yeah, no. He laughs.

BM: Let’s just say they started off on the wrong foot.

JL: The wrong everything, let’s be honest.

EM: Not my proudest moment. I was doing a favor for a family friend being a live model for an art class about five years later and assumed the worst about him.

MM: You mean there are actual art of you naked out there?

Eddie blushes.

EM: Several pieces in fact. But my favorite is Stevie’s. It’s still hanging up in our house in my studio.

GH: I’ve seen it. It’s not gross or anything.

JL: It won best in show at the art gala it was featured in.

BM: I think he’s totally wasted as an art teacher. He could be making more than we do selling his art work. But he loves working with kids.

MM: Sounds like the perfect guy.

EM: scoffs I love Steve, but he can be the most basic bitch. And he tends to be overprotective too.

GH: But we are here to talk about the new album.

MM: Fair enough. So tell me about working on Silent Killer. This is your second album, is that correct?

JL: Yeah, our self titled debut album just went double platinum. We knew going in it was going to be a tough act to follow.

GH: When we went platinum the first time, our manager Murray Bauman sent black flowers to all the record labels that passed on us.

EM: It was very suitably bitchy. It’s why he’s our manager.

MM: Certainly sounds like it. Do you guys deviate from your first album’s style in this one?

They look at each other and Eddie shrugs

EM: I mean, not really. It’s a more somber album to be sure. There was a song that we wanted to include on Corroded Coffin but decided it didn’t fit with the overall theme of the album that made its way on this one.

MM: Which song is that?

BM: Thorns and Thistles. It’s the song that got us our agent in the first place.

JL: Yeah. Murray was mad when the record label didn’t want to use it this time round. He fought tooth and nail to get on the album.

EM: Have you heard it yet?

I nod.

MM: Yeah. It’s beautifully heartbreaking. You say your label didn’t want to use it?

BM: They thought it was too sad.

JL: So to prove them wrong we sent it out as our first single, before we even started really working on the album.

MM: It had already gone gold before you announced the new record. That must have really got stuck in their craw.

EM: We’ve been laughing all the way to the bank.

MM: You guys won a Grammy for Song of the Year for The Jester and the King and Best New Artist. How was that for you?

BM: God I don’t know which of us bawled more on that stage. But it was everything we hoped for.

JL: Winning Song of the Year was a life changer. But no one thought we were going to win Best New Artist.

MM: No?

Eddie shakes his head.

EM: It rarely goes to a rock artist, especially a metal one. Everyone thought it would go to the kid...what’s his name...? He snaps his fingers.

JL: JJ Jenner.

EM: That’s the one. Fifteen year old kid with the pipes of an angel. Everyone, including us thought it would be him.

MM: Oh, I remember now, they put the kid’s reaction to losing on the jumbotron or whatever they call their big screen.

GH: I almost felt sorry for him.

Eddie grins.

EM: Almost.

MM: When you do red carpet events, Eddie, you bring your two lesbian friends with you, while the rest of the band brings their partners. Is there a reason you don’t bring yours? Especially since I learned your partner’s name is Steve.

All the members of the band shift uncomfortably in their seats, stealing glances at each as they silently decide who is going to answer the question.

MM: Oh. I feel like I stepped on a sensitive topic. I didn’t mean to.

Gareth clears his throat.

GH: Steve’s privacy is very important to us. There are times he would like to go to these things with Eddie...

JL: But he still gets attacks and can’t. He looks down at his hands. So he goes with the girls dress shopping and helps pick out their outfits for the night.

Eddie looks like he’s going to tear up.

EM: We’re working on it. He knew going to our relationship that this might become an issue but I always do what I can to make it up to him the moment I get home.

They all look somber, so I decide to change the direction of the interview.

MM: What’s next for the Corroded Coffin boys?

They brighten up almost immediately.

BM: Touring. We’ve got an American tour this spring and then a European tour this summer.

MM: Is there a reason you decided to wait on the European tour until summer?

Eddie blushes and the rest of the band nudge him playfully.

EM: It’s so Steve can come with us. He can’t leave during the school year, but he likes touring with us when it’s out for summer break.

MM: Ah ha.

The conversation turns to non-band related things again and I watch how close they are. It’s great to see a band that are still friends after years of playing together. Even though they’ve only been big for two years, they have been playing for twelve.

Let’s hope that they stay that way for the next twenty.

-Max Mayfield

The Final Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy @messrs-weasley @sharingisntkaren @nohomoyesbi

[lonesome-witching]

I'll Still Love You If You Don't

A new anonymous prompt. This one was so much fun to write. In this episode of 'another day, another prompt' we get post flayed Nancy struggling with the things she did when flayed. And of course, Robin is there. Hope you enjoy!

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Nancy’s arms were wrapped around her knees. She vaguely registered that her hands were shaking. She just didn’t care much. It seemed preposterous to even sit here. Mike had insisted. And when she still refused, Robin had insisted. So, Nancy came down and joined them. Them being her brother, Robin, Lucas, Will, Dustin, El, Max and Steve. Too many people. Too many people she had hurt.

“Nance? What do you think?” Mike asked. He had turned his body to face his sister.

“What?”

“Which movie should we watch?”

She could see Robin looking at her. It wasn’t entirely new. Robin had always looked at her. Nancy had first noticed it in the library, and it had never stopped since then. But now Robin looked at her differently. There was more worry in her eyes.

Nancy couldn’t really blame her. Not after everything that happened. Not after everything she’d done. Maybe Robin was worried she’d snap at any moment now. That she would attack her or Steve or even Mike. Nancy worried about the same thing.

“What— What are the options?” Nancy’s voice was shaking too.

“We could watch Star Wars or Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or Jaws or The Breakfast Club. But does anyone really want to watch The Breakfast Club?” Mike held up each tape as he said the name of the movie.

“Oh, I don’t know. What do you want?”

“I’m voting Jaws. Lucas and Max voted Ferris Bueller, Dustin, Will and El voted Star Wars and Steve and Robin haven’t voted yet.”

“I’ll vote Breakfast Club, right now,” Robin chimed in.

“Why? You don’t even like John Hughes,” Mike protested.

“But I do like annoying you.”

Mike groaned.

“I’ll follow Robin,” Steve said from his corner of the couch.

“Of course.”

“Nance?” Robin poked Nancy’s arm.

“I— I— I don’t care!” Nancy jumped up from her spot on the couch. She watched as the semi casual smiles turned sour. Everyone looking at her. She hated it. She hated the frown on Robin’s face and the way Mike flinched when she stood up. She hated the feeling that was crawling under her skin. As if worms were slithering under her skin. As if Vecna was still controlling her, still inside of her mind, making her go insane.

“Nance—” Robin leaned forward as she whispered that name.

“No, stop. I just—” Nancy waved her hand around herself and then rushed away. She couldn’t be here. She couldn’t sit in this room of the people she loved and just forget about everything that she had done. She needed to get away.

It was hard enough to deal with the trauma and the guilt when it had been an unforeseen consequence of her teenage rebellion. It was a whole other thing when she could remember it being her own actions. She wanted to rip her skin off.

She fell down on her bed headfirst, screaming into her pillow. Why couldn’t she just get rid of those pesky images. Those horrendous… memories.

“Nance?” The name was followed by a soft knock. “Nancy, are you alright?”

“No,” Nancy muttered into her pillow. She wasn’t even sure Robin actually heard her. But she didn’t seem to care, simply stepping into Nancy’s room, her personal space, and sitting on the bed.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel right now.”

“Robin, stop. Please just stop. Stop being nice to me. Stop trying to comfort me. Stop! Stop! Stop!” Nancy pressed her hands against her ears. Just like she used to do when she was a little kid. She felt like a little kid. Complaining about the fact that her own actions had consequences.

“Why should I stop being nice to you? Nance, I care about you.”

“Why? After everything… How?” Nancy finally sat up, her hands dropped in her lap as she kneeled on her bed.

“It’s really not that hard.”

“It should be. Robin, I strangled you.”

“You nearly strangled me.” Robin had a smile on her face.

“Robin,” Nancy complained.

“It wasn’t you, Nance. You’d never hurt me. You’d never hurt any of us. We know that.” Her hand reached out, stopping halfway to Nancy’s bare knee.

“But it was me. Don’t you understand? It were my hands that wrapped around your throat, Robin. It was me looking at the life being drained from you.” Nancy could still see it whenever she closed her eyes. She still saw the image during her long, painful nightmares. She could still hear Steve shouting for her to stop as he rushed toward them.

“No. It wasn’t. It wasn’t you, Nance. It was Vecna. You were the one that pulled her hands off me. That kept me safe even when you couldn’t keep yourself safe. Nance, you weren’t in control when Vecna attacked us, but you made sure we’d all make it out alive. At risk of yourself.” Robin’s hand creeped closer, but despite her words she was hesitant to touch Nancy.

“If I’m a savior to you, why don’t you dare to touch me?” Nancy scoffed. She could feel the tears pool in her eyes.

“That has nothing to do with you,” Robin whimpered. She pulled her hand back entirely. Nancy wanted to cry.

“Then what is it? What is your reason for always keeping your distance if you’re not afraid of me?”

“It’s the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“The opposite.”

“Please explain to me how you feeling the opposite of afraid is a reason to stay away from me.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I practically let you strangle me,” Robin sighed.

“Oh, so now it was me who strangled you?”

“Nancy, stop!” Robin jumped from the bed as if burned. Nancy crawled into herself. She wanted to vanish. To just be erased from the face of the earth. She couldn’t face Robin. She couldn’t take seeing fear in those beautiful blue eyes. “I’m not afraid of you, Nancy. I could never be afraid of you. Even if you wanted to hurt me, even if you truly wanted to kill me, I still wouldn’t be afraid. Because the mere thought of your hands wrapped around my neck, even if controlled by Vecna, don’t fill me with disdain, but with the gratitude of knowing you touched me. Knowing Vecna chose me to hurt you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to care for me.”

“Of course, I care for you, Robin. Of course, I care.”

“No, Nancy. You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?” Nancy felt a sense of irritation bubble up within her. One that frightened her more than she’d like to admit. One had never felt towards Robin before. She wasn’t sure she felt it towards Robin now.

“God, Nancy, I’m in love with you.” The words escaped Robin with an air of despair. Her face having scrunched up in what could only resemble pain.

“You’re what?” Nancy breathed the words as if she had forgotten their meaning. Almost as if she was learning a new language entirely.

“I love you,” Robin admitted once again.

“Even after—”

“Yes, Nancy. Even after everything. Because none of that was your fault. You might have some rough edges, but you are so good. You’re so good.”

“Robin.”

“No, it’s alright, you don’t have to say anything.”

“Alright.” Nancy allowed the silence to cover them. Maybe she was buying herself some time to think. Some time to process everything that was said. Robin was in love with her. Robin. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You never did,” Robin replied swiftly.

“I’ve been wondering… I’ve been wondering why he made me attack you. Why not El? Or Will? Or even Max? Why not the people who have escaped him? He had easy access through me. El might have been able to but she would never kill me. And I know, I know I did hurt them. But I never tried to kill them. It was never like it was with you.” Nancy wasn’t sure where she was going with this. She hoped she’d figure it out before reaching the end of her speech.

“I know,” Robin interrupted, maybe trying to save Nancy from having to relive everything she did. But Nancy relived it anyway.

“I think he wanted me to kill you because it would have hurt me the most. It would have left me a broken shell of myself. I would have stopped fighting and he would have had complete and utter control of me. So, he tried to force me to kill you. And even when I had fallen under his control with barely any sense of myself left within me, I still couldn’t. Maybe if he had tried to get me to shoot you. But strangling… You are forced to watch the life fade from someone’s eyes. And when I looked into yours, Robin, when I saw the life begin to fade from yours, I was forced to fight. To protect you.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you are trying to say, Nance.”

“That makes two of us,” Nancy laughed softly. It sounded foreign even to her. She got up from her spot on the bed. Took a few steps toward Robin, hoping she wouldn’t flinch. She didn’t flinch. “I think what I’m trying to say is that… I might feel something for you too.”

“You might?” A smile slowly grew on Robin’s face. It was a beautiful sight.

“I’m quite sure of it, if I’m being honest,” Nancy admitted. “And if you think you could still love me after all that happened, then I think I could very well love you back. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, I can totally do that.” Robin nodded her head.

“Frankly, even if you can’t love me anymore, I still could probably love you,” Nancy admitted before slowly leaning in.

[alsoanyways]

@transgender-scout @1ight wait fuck now i have to compile them okay okay okay i have a feeling this is gonna get long so I'm gonna put it under a cut haha but for real thank you for asking!!

First things first! This is how I imagine the flock is able to disguise themselves. There's no going undercover at an actual school for them, but I don't think anyone's looking twice at a bulky coat, especially if it's set in the future. Not too far in the future though, still in the 21st century. I have no ideas for a plot restructuring or anything, I never read past Nevermore and I barely remember anything past the fourth book, so most of my headcanons are character dynamics and such. I do have some that aren't focused on the flock but not many. Anyways.

(also idk if most of this can even be considered headcanon bc its basically fanfic at this point)

A couple things I should've added to the design post are Toto's Total’s nonexistence (I'm sorry if you like him but I do not lmao) and the fact that their hair is feathers. Like those very fine and very long feathers that roosters get. The flock also doesn't develop superpowers.

In my version of things, there's a small town close-ish to the E shaped house. Far enough that no one in town is gonna drop by for a visit, but close enough to fly down to for some groceries, which they'd do after Jeb left and until the money was gone. I think he would've taught them how to forage for things and that's how they get by since then.

Max (21) isn't The Leader TM either, I think leadership is shared more with Fang/Friday and Iggy. She likes volleyball and usually the one to go foraging. She's never thought about it but if she did, she'd probably consider herself agender.

Fang/Friday (22) gets his name from a Friday the 13th DVD cover, Jeb thinks he wants to be called Jason when he first points to it. He used to help Nudge/Dora and Angel with their hair when they were little and still does occasionally. He likes to draw and he's the go-to when someone needs to be comforted. There's no way in hell I would let him be anything less than bisexual.

Iggy (20) is the one that probably hears Friday's voice the most. He was also taught braille and Jeb got them a labeling machine. He's still the best cook and he's very protective over the vinyls/tapes/cds in the house. He mourns the loss of them when they have to flee the house, but he is excited to finally have access to new music. He's also gay. Because I said so.

Nudge/Dora (17) still wishes she could live a normal life, but has accepted that it's just not a possibility. She clings to "Dorothy" when she learns it. Being talkative and into fashion are still part of her character, but now she also loves bugs. She tags along when Max goes foraging so she can try and get pictures of any new bugs she hasn't seen before. Friday often gets to hear which bugs and what they were doing when they're sketching together.

Gazzy/Gizmo (14) gets his name when he watches the Gremlins movie for two months straight and starts mimicking the mogwai noises. He almost kills everyone when he mixes a couple cleaners from under the kitchen sink. He's quickly enamored with the chemistry books he's given afterwards. Like any other teenage boy, he likes video games and has too much energy for his own good. Max offers to race him when he's particularly amped.

Angel (11) is the only one out of the group that wasn't experimented on and she doesn't get the protectiveness or why they never go anywhere. She likes sitcoms and never refuses an offer to forage with Max. She also took a liking to helping Iggy cook things. She was very quick to tell people she wasn't a boy once she had the vocabulary.

Ari (15) has chronic pain. Being turned to goo and rebuilt into something different will do that to you. It doesn't get better the second time. Nor the third. He used to live in the E shaped house, before Jeb brought Gizmo, back when he was a regular kid. He's always liked animals, caring for them. He wanted to be a farmer or something when he grew up. After he joins the flock, he and Gizmo are fast friends. (Watching him and Gizmo dick around is what makes Friday realize that he really is just a kid.)

Maya/Em (21, kinda) my identity issues queen!! Cloning keeps the original memories intact and then they were further messed with to ensure her allegiance. She has a hard time coming to terms with that, with not being Max, not being who she thought she was. Her friends aren't her friends, she didn't watch Gizmo and Angel grow up, she didn't go to Friday after another nightmare, or call Dora to come catch a spider. That wasn't her. Having time away from them before she joins the flock helps. She renames herself Em during that time, distinct enough from Max but not removed from it completely. She learns that she likes cooking and she discovers cheerleading. She thinks she'd like that if she got the chance to participate. She's also aroace. She wants nothing to do with any of that.

Dylan (21) sticks closest to Em, but he eventually grows close to Iggy as well. They share a soaring/gliding wing shape and Iggy is grateful to have someone who can fly as long as he can (recreational flying is always cut short in his opinion, because the others have to work harder to stay airborne and get tired). Dylan likes to tinker around with motors and mechanisms, trying to get them to work again or building them from the ground up. Not that he has an abundance of opportunities to do that, but being able to fix a busted car comes in handy. He's one of them gays that can drive.

Lastly, I do have ideas on Erasers and different classes of them and their usages but jesus christ this did in fact get very long and I need to go eat something lmao so that'll have to be a separate post for another time.

[somegurl8]

More The Suckening thoughts based on VtM mechanics/lore!

So when the whole "Pulse of the City" thing got brought up out of curiosity I went to check what the ability was in the game as from doing my own look into various disciplines for a VtM campaign I'm working on I knew there were some very powerful disciplines that could affect multiple people at once. This is what I found:

Note the 9 dots marked next to the title of the ability. In VtM they describe each dot as representing how strong or well versed you are in a specific discipline. 1 dot is considered to be "poor" while 5 dots- typically the max on a standard character sheet- is considered to be "outstanding." However in the section about disciplines they note this:

Now the idea of Edward Twilight being an elder vampire isn't anything crazy because. He is a primogen, and that title is noted as sometimes being "simply the eldest and most influential Kindred of a given clan" so yeah the idea of him being some super old vampire makes sense. But the reason I'm bringing all of this up is because of the exact number of dots, which as I noted were 9.

9 dots is the absolute highest level ability you can get in most disciplines. A few exceptions are made for disciplines that add onto certain stats (Celerity which gives extra dice for dex based rolls; Fortitude which adds to Stamina and can let you soak aggravated damage; Potence which gives extra dice for strength rolls) which highest can go 8 dots and the more "magical" type disciplines (Necromancy and Thaumatugry) which highest can go is 5 dots, but the rest seem to have 9 as the highest. Meaning fucking Edward Twilight is insanely powerful and I am legitimately terrified to see what this man does next.

Like if he's got 9 dots in Presence (the name of the discipline Pulse of the City comes from), he also has stuff like Spark of Rage which could send at minimum 2 people at maximum what's only marked as "everyone in the character's vicinity" but given how that's above 20 people he could presumably get over 20 people feeling angry, and if they were vampires he could possibly send them into a frenzy.

And though technically long term it is "better" for him to have Shilo under a blood bond, Edward also has the ability Love which lets him create a blood bond like attraction between him and another person- the main difference between the two is the blood isn't need for Love to work but the ability only lasts for "one scene" though can be used in multiple scenes and if the roll to place someone under this ability is botched than the target is immune to any Presence abilities used on them by the same person.

The TD;LR of this post is that Edward Twilight is unfortunately a powerful mf and I hate his guts.

[chloe-caulfield94]

Don't EVER say you have a fundamental moral understanding of right and wrong after you said you would sacrifice ~5000 people for some bitch, you cunt

I always relish the opportunity to share my views with others, as long as they are willing to listen. And despite your ... combative attitude, you seem to be at least somewhat willing to expose yourself to opposing views, since you quoted one of the last sentences from my post about Bay Max as a modern-day sin-eater, which means you likely read it in its entirety. So instead of complaining about the lackluster form of your ask, I'm going to engage with its substance.

You brought up the discrepancy in numbers. One life versus many. Of course, generally speaking, the outcomes which benefit a greater amount of people are preferable over the outcomes which benefit a lesser amount of people. But utilitarianism should never be the only lens you're using when analyzing the morality of an action.

Utilitarianism, especially when it becomes simplified to "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few" must always be tempered by respect for certain fundamental values, like human life and dignity. Utilitarianism, when it is completely unshackled, can be used to justify just about any atrocity, as long as the outcome of that atrocity benefits the collective. Depriving people of rights, dispossessing them. Killing them. All that has been done in the name of benefitting a greater number of people than the number being "sacrificed".

To stop the Storm, Max would have to kill Chloe. Let's call a spade a spade. She would have to take Chloe from the safety she enjoys on Friday and push her back in front of a barrel of a gun on Monday. To save the town, Max would have to intentionally cause Chloe's death to happen. The death that has already been averted at that point and wouldn't happen again without Max's conscious decision. Imagine seeing someone about to be run over by a car, pulling them to safety and then pushing them under the next car. This is what is required of Max.

While I do believe that generally the outcomes which help the most amount of people should be favoured, I also believe that ends never justify the means. We should look not only at the outcome, but also at the means used to achieve said outcome. And certain means, if they violate fundamental values, are never justified. Using them is always immoral, even if the outcome of such an immoral action would bring benefit to other people.

Killing human beings, unless it is done in self-defense or in the defense of others, is never justified. Outside of the narrow exception of defense, it is always an act of evil. Supreme evil, since human life is the greatest value.

By defense I mean using force to repel an ongoing, unlawful attack from a different person, directed at us or another person that we are stepping up to defend. On Friday at the cliff Chloe, simply by living and breathing, is not engaged in an unlawful attack upon anyone. So killing her would most certainly not be an act of defense, not unless you take all meaning out of that word.

My sense of morality tells me that killing ("sacrificing") a human being is never justified, no matter what it would accomplish. Which is why in any trolley problem my answer is always the same. Do not pull the lever. By pulling the lever you are usurping for yourself the right to decide that someone is less worthy of survival than others. You are usurping for yourself the right to take a human life. In the scenario we are considering, Max using the butterfly photograph to go back to Monday and undo her rescue of Chloe is equivalent to pulling the lever to direct the speeding trolley to the side track. So the moral thing to do for Max is to tear up the photograph. Do not pull the lever. Do not engage with the situation, if the only thing you can do to save the people on the main track is to kill the people on the side track. Because saving the people on the main track doesn't erase or justify the fact that you killed the people on the side track. At the end of the day, you are a murderer. No matter what supposed benefit you achieved with that murder.

The moral standard I presented above is internally consistent, as moral standards should be. It doesn't matter if sacrificing that one person would save 10, or 1000 or a million people. Killing someone is always an act of evil. It is never justified.

I'm curious if the standard you brought up would be equally as consistent. You seem to be under the impression that killing one person to save 5000 is a no-brainer. Would you kill one person to save 10 others? Would you kill one person to save 2 others? Would you kill 50 people to save 51 others? If your standard is consistent, then your answer to all the questions I just asked should be affirmative. Because the reasoning would be the same in all of those cases. Kill a lesser amount to save a greater amount.

But if your answer to at least one of the questions I asked above is negative, then what's the difference? What's the ratio of people being killed to people being saved that makes the killing justified? 10 to 1? 100 to 1? Why that particular number? Wouldn't any number in this context be completely arbitrary?

And if your answer to all those questions was affirmative, if you truly, consistently believe that killing a lesser amount of people is justified if it saves a greater amount, don't you realize how dangerous that mode of thinking is? The belief that killing people is justified as long as it helps the collective is totalitarian thinking. This is the exact type of reasoning that evil regimes throughout history used to justify their actions.

I would never think like that. Human life and dignity is off-limits. It can never be sacrificed. Not for anything. There's nothing noble or heroic about sacrificing other people's lives. It's deplorable.

At the end of the day, even though I'd like to think there are certain moral principles that are universal to all, that's not the case. Unofrtunately, morality is not objective. It's subjective. It's always informed by your peronal beliefs and preferences.

For example, I'm a Christian. The priest in my parish often says in his sermons that ends do not justify the means. I fully agree with that teaching. Certain actions are always evil, no matter what fruit they would bring. Thou shalt not kill. The taking of a human life is always evil, unless in self-defence. For me, that's a moral absolute. But you seem to be following a different moral code, with no absolutes, not even human life. A code where everything is justified under the right circumstances, even murder. As long as the numbers get high enough, as long as it's an "extraordinary" or "exceptional" situation, anything goes.

I believe that no matter what numbers are at stake, there are no exceptions to the protection of fundamental values, like human life.

I'm also an individualist. I believe that certain fundamental rights, like the right to life, can never be sacrificed at the altar of the collective. You seem to be a collectivist, who permits sacrificing individual rights, including the most fundamental right of all, if it serves to achieve some greater goal. For me, no goal is great enough to sacrifice human lives.

Let me leave you with one more question:

What would you do in Max's shoes?

I don't mean what would you do if it was Chloe's life on the line. You seem to hate her. Killing her would be easy for you.

I mean what would you do if it was YOUR best friend, someone you actually care about and you had the choice of killing them to stop a destructive hurricane. Would you kill your own best friend?

If the answer is no, then why do you expect from Max something you would not do in an analogous situation? And Chloe is Max's best friend. Replay the game and count the times Max calls Chloe her best friend, how many times she promises to be at Chloe's side, see how she reacts to seeing Chloe alive after emerging from time jumps, read her diary. You may think they shouldn't be friends, and you are entitled to your opinion, but it doesn't change the fact that they are best friends.

If the answer is yes, do you realize how unhinged of a take that is? Willingness to kill someone you deeply care about, because that would accomplish something?

Sacrificing friends is action movie/video game morality. You know, commander Shepard blowing up Kaidan Alenko with a nuke just so he can have Lt. Williams all to himself. But once you apply real moral standards to that mentality, it becomes indefensible.

One might even say it offends their sense of right and wrong on a fundamental level.

[juicefield]

Meyp Skxawng Neteyam X Avatar!Reader: Part 1

A/N: I included the epilogue in this post so I could just delete the last post. Neteyam is 20 in this and there will be no NSFW content in this fic. It is not set in the far future as I reference bits of culture from the 2000s (mostly because this fic is essentially about culture, Na'vi and human and how they clash with each other and unfortunately I don't know about human culture in 2170 so I just used stuff from our time). Also this is set in high camp. I love the Metkayina, but I've always loved the forests of Pandora since I was young.

Although the writing in this fanfiction is my own, I do not claim any ownership of Avatar, Avatar: The Way of Water, or any of the subsequent medias. All rights go to James Cameron and the producers.

You can find the other parts here:

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Synopsis: Today is your twentieth birthday on Pandora. You look back on your life in reflection as you think about the future and your place on her.

Neteyam X Fem!Avatar!Reader 6.6k 1st person POV

The Na'vi say that every person is born twice. The second time is when you earn your place among The People... forever.

A tired yet youthful Jake Sully, now known as Jake Tsyeyk te Suli  or the mighty Toruk Makto, droned on from the blue tinted computer screen staring back at me. Once again, I found myself watching the videos he left behind. I know I shouldn't torture myself, that this fantasy I've had since I was a child was nothing but that... just a fantasy. I could never get the second chance he got all those years ago. I’ve spent years living vicariously through him and his video logs; imagining that I had become one with The People like him. I knew it was childish, but that certainly didn't stop me from dreaming about it. 

The more I watched his videos, and Grace's videos, the more I longed to see this world that I find myself stuck in. That mystical magical world that was closed off from me, just outside, so close yet so far. However, I couldn't be like Spider, my strange adopted "semi-sibling" and run around like a chicken with its head cut off (this was a line straight from Norm, as I have never even eaten chicken let alone seen one), awkward and slow next to the lithe natives. I fiddled with a small puzzle Norm had brought from the old world as I listened to Jake's voice. It was a rare treat and one of the things I had as a child that was almost like a toy. Of course at this point I knew how to solve it faster than I could blink practically. As I sit there and continuously slide the locking mechanism in and out I become briefly distracted from the monitor as I feel the ridges of the plastic puzzle. It felt weird to have the thought that Spider was my brother. He certainly never acted like he cared about me much, always opting to hang with the Sullys. However, I know that he feels a certain camaraderie with me due to our similar afflictions. The affliction in question being our shared blood, vrrtep reypay, or "demom blood" flows through both of us. Unlike Spider, however, there was something that afflicted me and me alone in this new world.

The sickness. Norm and Max weren’t sure what it was, but they knew for certain it was some sort of genetic thing. Some thing that my parents had carried in both of them. "Thing". It was easier to call it a thing, easier for me to compartmentalize that way. Easier to tuck away the pain and suffering in a neat corner of my mind. It affected me in different ways. From my joints to my stomach to my legs, my body was simply weak. Back when I was willing to try reaching out to the other children, Na'vi children, I would always get made fun of for being a weak human, so once my legs started to give out on me at the age of 8 I officially swore off having "friends".

"Meyp skxawng."  A little girl muttered under her breath after my legs gave out while splashing in a pool in the cave system. Her name was Txeyu. She was one of the Na'vi that lived the closest to the labs in the back of the cave system, also about one of three friends that I had besides Norm and Max. She was one of the only Na'vi children that would hang around me, but as my legs worsened I could feel her getting agitated everytime I couldn’t keep up as we played. 

"Sorry,"  The apology that exited my mouth was out before I could even stop to think what I actually did wrong. Pulling myself up from the awkward position I was in after I had slipped and fallen to the floor I continued. "Sometimes my legs don't work so well… I mean, even for a human." The last word came out strained like if I said it loudly then everyone would suddenly realize I was an alien and demand to throw me out of camp. I knew of course that humans had the protection of Jake Sully. Realistically that could never happen, but many of the Na'vi were not accepting of our place in the clan. It had been long ago that I learned shame for being human but I remember this memory as the time I learned to be ashamed of being disabled. When I looked up there was this distinct look on the Na'vi's face. A strange mix of pity and disgust that left a pit in my stomach. The slope of her eyes and the curl of her lip are often in my dreams, haunting me. I will never forget them from that day. With tears stinging my eyes I politely excused myself and threw myself into Norm’s arms as soon as I found him. Even though I hadn't known what the words at the time meant I knew exactly what her face had meant. I was a blubbering mess and after that I wasn't allowed to play with Txeyu (or at least Norm had told me that, for my peace of mind so I wouldn’t seek her out) and I swore that I didn't need friends. 

To be fair to Txeyu, I was a weak moron. Confirmed by not only my weak body, but also my inability to stop watching the videos that the two most revered sky people had left behind. Grace was my source of entertainment since I was a child because  the humans were not concerned with bringing old world media with them to Pandora. Mostly because coming to Pandora they had not thought of babies being born in the new world, had not thought of the culture left behind. Had not thought of the difficulty these children would have with their identity, knowing almost nothing of the new world or the old. Many people had brought things with them but most cultural items had been taken by the sky people when they left. And yes, Norm and Max told me all about Earth and about movies and music and art along with the small amount of stuff they could recover from the old lab but it was nothing, nothing, compared to the real thing. To have a sense of community with people who have shared experiences, to have people that you belong to. The very thing that makes people human, or maybe not human, but the thing that is important to all life that holds empathy. 

Empathy. That, I thought, was the similarity humans had with the Na'vi. They both had empathy. What separated them, however, was more important... greed, yes, the humans were greedy despite their sympathy. I had learned as a girl that the two were not exclusive. I knew it was true in the way I wished to be Jake, in the way I longed for a world I didn't belong to. Knew that even I, a human that can hardly be called human, is not spared from this defining characteristic of greed. Unfortunately I would never get a second chance, another body, like Jake did.

I accepted this fact when I was a mere twelve years old, a particularly hard year for me. I started my menstruation cycle with only Norm and Max to comfort me. There were other women at the base, but none close enough to me for me to celebrate in the joy of womanhood. I would have turned to Kiri, but luckily for her she doesn’t have an aunt flow, like all Na'vi. What a lucky bitch. I had started bleeding and had been in the bathroom panic stricken because my first thought was that the sickness was getting worse, that the pain I felt was finally going to bleed me out and kill me. As I silently wept I accidentally knocked over the trash bin in my room. Norm had come to the door, knocking softly thrice he announced himself.

"Hey... you good in there? You've been in there a while and I heard something fall." Hot tears were stinging my eyes and I was breathing heavily, like there was a giant boulder on my chest. Hey, maybe this was one of those panic attacks I read about in the encyclopedias of Medicine and Psychology I had read? I had always been a curious child, learning as much as I could to stave off boredom. There had been a few precious fiction books left behind by the scientists before I. Please dear Eywa (I had felt embarrassed at the time to ask Eywa for help), please help me remember that boring book I prayed all while frantically trying to calm down enough for the memory to surface. Breathe. I had to breathe in and out. I've got this, I mean I'm totally dying, but I've definitely got a handle on this. Compartmentalize. Yes, I distinctly remember the book talking about breathing and slow breaths from the diaphragm, for sure, definitely... Just as I finally started to get a grip and calm down Norm knocked again.

"Come on, seriously you're freaking me out here." Well shit. I didn't get it together fast enough. I gathered myself as best I could, focusing on the cool steel below my fingertips.

"Norm, I think I might be dying." I said trying to project my tired and scared voice through the bathroom door. 

"WHAT? OH MY GOD. Shit... shit! What's wrong? What do you mean? Let me in. Please, open the door." I could hear the panic laced in his voice. The handle on the door rattled as Norm tried to enter the bathroom. 

"Stop!" I commanded "Hold on. I'm-I'm bleeding."

"Oh sweet Jesus open the door." Norm said and the door handle rattled so hard that I thought the lanky scientist might break it.

"It's... coming from down there. Don't come in, it's embarrassing!" I lamented. The quiver in my voice made Norm immediately understand.

"Oh... sweetheart that's not... um, you're, uh, not going to die. Just... clean yourself up in the bath. I'll get you clothes and then me and Max need to have a talk with you." I tilted my head at that, a million questions running through my mind. Did he know what was going on? Why did he seem so relieved? This was horrible! But, I did as was told and waited outside, fidgeting nervously.

And that my friends, is the story of my very first lesson from Norm and Max about the wonders of womanhood. Oh what a joy it was. Of course, they had been severely awkward with it. Max was slightly better, mostly because he had had sisters back on Earth so he actually knew how to use a pad. Ah pads, I think wistfully. I remember them. They were absolutely wonderful. Of course they all ran out by the time I was fifteen. Nowadays I use reusable cotton pads. Not bad, but they were a pain in the ass to make and I always seemed to lose them in the wash. Luckily, Norm is a softie, so I often convince him to help me make them with the promise of my special pancakes made from wheat bread ration. Of course, I'd always been able to get Norm to practically do anything. Partly because of my sickness and the fact that I was his little girl helped. All I had to do was say I was having a bad day and give him the eyes and bingo, my lovely full day of pad making was now cut in half. Success! Max, however, is not as easily swayed; he had always been the more logical and sensible one. I later asked them why they hadn't warned me in advance about periods. I remember laughing when Norm bashfully rubbed his neck and admitted that they simply hadn't thought about it before now.

That was how it has always been. Max was the voice of reason, the one who reminds me to eat when I need to and reminds Norm that I am stronger than I look. I appreciate him more than I even thought possible. Norm was more of the doting type, almost motherly in his spoiling of me. Always letting me a little further, a little longer than necessary in the few times that I was able to take an oxygen mask and run around by the cave as a young kid. Between the two of them I was in good hands. My mother wouldn't have left me with them when she died if they weren't worthy. And so I became their daughter. I don't call either of them dad or father or anything like that but I know that they’re my parents. I love them so, so dearly. Even when Norm ate the last chocolate bar when I was eight. Incidentally this was not long after the Txeyu situation, eight was a hard year too! A portal to hell opened in the lab that day; my sobbing was louder than the banshees on the Hallelujah mountains.

I sigh and sit the puzzle down on my desk. This was my reality lately. All I seemed to be able to do was think about the past. Perhaps because I finally realized I have no future here. There was nothing for me here, nothing except Max and Norm (and Jake, I suppose, but his visits were few and far between and he always seemed a little uncomfortable around me). When they're gone I would have nothing, be nothing. I mean sure I had friends, two to be exact, and one very annoying close acquaintance. Kiri and Tuk were the former and Lo'ak was the latter. He had recently been demoted from best friend status after breaking one of my only CDs (of course jazz CDs were some of the only music to be left behind when everyone left), even after I had told him to be careful with it when putting it in the player. 

The Suli children were the only link I had to the outside world at this point. They had become my friends purely by accident. It happened when Jake was coming to visit Norm and Max to discuss a raid. Lo'ak and Kiri had followed him, no doubt a scheme cooked up by Lo'ak and of course Kiri went along with it. They had been curious where their father ran off to every few weeks despite their mother looking irritated every time he left, promising her that it wouldn’t be long and that he'd be home before dinner. Neteyam had tried to stop them but they lost him by the retired elders hut, slipping away when he wasn't paying them express attention and was answering a question about his training posed by a well-respected elder.

On that fateful day I had actually been outside the caves for once, with Norm watching me from afar to make sure my mask was on and I was walking well enough on my own. I remember looking up at Jake, smiling, and saying hello to the friendly giant (hey, he was friendly to me). He greeted me in english then headed for the door. Behind the bushes near the cave entrance were two meddlesome ten year olds with their jaws practically on the floor. They had never seen a sky person that was so small except Spider, they guessed I must be a child too!

"Lo'ak look! I didn't know that any sky people children live here besides Spider." Kiri said, pointing to my small figure that was about fifteen meters away from them, oblivious to the eyes watching me as I picked a small bouquet of wild flowers to put in my room. 

"Yeah. But, what the hell is wrong with her legs??" Lo'ak said loudly before Kiri elbowed him in the gut. I had heard his voice that time, strange and in a language I didn't understand yet so I stood quickly as panic set in. 

"Hello? Who is there? Jake Sully is here, so you can't hurt me! He's Toruk Makto and he'll protect me!" I called out to them as the flower I was holding fell down at my side. Kiri and Lo'ak simply looked at each other, astonished that I was speaking at all, but especially since I knew their father’s title.

"Hello." I heard a deeply accented voice respond back to me in english. My eyebrows shot up when I heard it. I knew right away that it was coming from a Na'vi child. The accent was unmistakably inhuman. Not to say it was bad sounding, in fact I had always found the native accent to be beautiful. It was just different than the way humans spoke.

"Um.... who are you? Can you come out now? You're scaring me." I said to the bush that was now in front of me. I made my way over to them while they argued about whether it was a good idea to come out or not. I watched as a blue head popped out from behind the bush. I couldn't help the gasp that came out of my mouth at the sight of a little boy around my age.

"I am Kiri and this is Lo'ak." Kiri responded to me as she came fully out of the bush from behind Lo’ak, a hand wrapped around Lo'ak's forearm pulling him along. "Jake Suli is our father." My eyes widened in surprise as I suddenly felt embarrassed to have used Jake as a threat. I made my way over to them slowly, wincing when my ankle twisted slightly to the right. 

"Oh... uh-hi. My name is (Y/N). Mr. Sully told me about you... I met Kiri before but we were both babies, right after she came out of Grace… so I don't remember, I'm sorry!" I was completely unsure of what to say. Goddamnit why did I have to mention Grace? The only company I ever kept were Norm and Max with the occasional visit from the other sky people and the scarily limited friends I had as a toddler and young child. I knew, of course, through Grace's videos and Norms education of the Na'vi (specifically the Omaticayans) to be respectful in my language and not to use figures of speech. 

"The Na'vi have an extraordinary understanding of the English language already. They learn faster than my team can seem to teach them. Fortunately for them, our pronunciation is a lot less important than their language. Unfortunately for us that means a lot more of them understand us then the other way around. The only way to talk in secret around them is to use figures of speech. Unfortunately they may find this rather offensive if they call you out on it, especially when you accidentally call one of the clans best a brown noser. God, I had a hell of a time explaining that one to them."  I remember that video log with great fondness. I had only watched it a week prior for the first time after Norm finally gave approval for me to watch some of the video logs that were more personal to Grace, rather than the usual educational ones (also the ones in which she was drunk). The new blue people in front of me just stared at me with wide eyes. They could not believe I was being so bold for such a tiny thing. Finally the girl shifted and flicked her brother with her tail, breaking him out of the trance he was in. 

"Well... do you wanna play with us?" Was the only thing Lo'ak could think of to say. I shifted nervously. I hadn't played with any Na’vi since the incident with Txeyu. As I picked nervously at the dirt under my nails I let out a short sigh.

"I'm not allowed to play with you guys I think?" It came out as more of a question than a statement. These were Jake's kids, so maybe Norm would be fine with it? Plus, I noticed as they both deflated and started fidgeting with their jewelry and hair that they have hands like Norms avatar body, so that means they're like me! They also have demon blood, so they could understand me, maybe. Just as they turned around to leave after waving goodbye I called out to them. 

"Actually, I think Max and Norm would be okay. If it's Jake's kids. He's a good guy so you guys must be too!" I cringe remembering my naivety. Luckily I was correct, they were "good guys"... and we have been good friends for years now… except when they break my things! I sighed and walked over to the mangled remains of my precious jazz CD. I had already tried gluing the pieces back together. CDs really didn't work that way though, so I tried recording myself singing the songs but I could never sing the way the woman on the CD did so eventually I just gave up. Luckily this gave me the genius idea to record all the remaining CDs I had in case another unfortunate alien boy decided to jam a damn disk into the computer halfway before closing it and breaking it in half!

As I flopped down onto the chair beside my desk I played Beethoven's String Quartet no. 14, 1st Movement to try to quiet my mind. I know from Norm and Max that classical music was one of the least popular genres from Earth but I always had a fascination with it. Not that there was really a choice when I had 5 CDs to my name. Crap. 4 CDs to my name. Beethoven's greatest symphonies, Etta James's At Last (previously, Rest In Peace Etta), Metallica's Black album or 5th album (I wasn't as much of a fan now, but I had some really cathartic times with that album when I was an angsty 13 year old), a burned CD titled "2005 Car Mix" with a variety of pop songs, and a guided sleep meditation music CD (I had never gotten bored enough to actually sit down and attempt to meditate with it) were the musical companions in my life. 

The only exception were occasions when the clan had a large festival or feast and I could hear the sounds of the Omaticayans singing and chanting. Those were always my favorite nights. I would often sit and weave something while I listened to hundreds of voices commune with Eywa, to celebrate a new life or one just ending. That’s one of the only past times I have that I really enjoy. Sometimes I even hum along, pretending that I was a member of the clan. I could almost smell the earthen musk that always clung to every Na'vi. Like they were really one with the forest, as if they were born of the forest. They were so natural in it, just as natural as a fish in the water. As I hum I feel the tickle of a tail brushing against my back and the heat radiating from the thighs of the two Na'vi on either side of me. A brief peace floods into my body, relaxing my muscles one by one before I remember who I am and where I am. I remember again that I was born a human on Pandora, and the dream is broken. That fantasy is not me, no matter how much I wish it so. 

I should really stop torturing myself like this. The only thing fantasizing does is fester and ferment into anger. Anger at my mother, maybe? I mean she did pass on the thing to me. Maybe at Eywa? Do I even believe in Eywa? Sometimes I swear I feel her all around me, in the plants waving in the winds or the sounds of the cave. In the dripping water and wind rushing past the mouth of the cave, dancing through the hallelujah mountains. I hear her in the banshees shrill cries at dawn, and the thanators mighty roar at twilight. Do I even have the right to believe in her? To be angry at the hand dealt to me? By being born on Pandora, does that mean that Eywa is in control of my destiny like her Na'vi children? Am I one of her children?

I ponder this as I weave on the loom that Kiri gave to me last year for my nineteenth birthday. She brings me plenty of string and teaches me new techniques every moon cycle on our ritual ‘girls night’. Although honestly she might get in trouble if anyone finds out about that. A lot of Na'vi wouldn't appreciate a sky person knowing cultural weaving techniques that have been passed down for generations through the Omaticayans: who are known as great craftsmen. My girl Kiri is a total badass though, so she still teaches me anyway. 

Kiri, Tuk, Lo'ak are the only reasons I haven't gone verifiably insane yet as I waste away on this planet. As much as I love Max and Norm, their company doesn't ever change much. There's never anything new going on with human settlement. Always the same issues that we discuss over dry, flavorless ration food. The problems of growing food in the Pandoran soil, which may be lush and fertile for the home plant species, but is absolutely terrible for Earth plants. Always some new trouble that Spider had gotten into with Lo’ak. We are always having trouble with having enough batteries for the tanks to furnish all the humans with oxygen. Yet another reason why I don't go outside. I'm a waste of resources and while Max and Norm can't admit that, I can. I know I'm useless, honestly I wish that I could be of help in even the science realm but hello, there's no school on Pandora and both Max and Norm are horrible teachers. I mean I'm smart but I cannot figure out fucking geometry on my own?! Plus the other humans didn't leave behind any lesson plans for children when they left so I'm pretty much S.O.L. 

I’m pulling a soft blue, almost feathery string through another row on the loom when I hear Max and Norm talking outside of my room in the main lab. I strain my ears but I cannot make much sense of the words I can hear.

"Jake doesn't know.... yeah... ready... think... okay jeez, Max." Eh, nothing to really worry about, I decide. Probably the same old shit in a different toilet. I tune out their talking and focus on the crescendo of one of Mozart's greatest hits before almost dropping the loom when I hear a sharp knock on the door. I get up and turn to press the pause button on the CD player before opening the door. Standing there is a very excited looking Max and a very nervous looking Norm. 

"Oh my God, what is it this time?" I said recollecting a time when I had opened the very same door to them looking very similar to this moment and they had practically accused me of having a crush on Lo'ak. As if! I would never have a crush on Lo'ak. He's like an annoying little brother to me and he's always hiding my stuff just to irritate me or pulling a single hair out one at a time till I yell at him to stop. But I think that may be the reason that we get along so well, he doesn’t see me as different like everyone else does. He has always teased and roughhoused with me like he would Kiri or Spider, albeit a bit gentler.

"Hey kiddo, we just wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday. We know you're finally 20! You're a grown woman now..." Norm trailed off looking wistful. Max took up after Norm, who was reminiscing like a parent would on their child’s birthday. 

"And we have something to show you! Something we have been working on for a long time now." He threw an arm around Norm to emphasize the we.

"Did you get the Rewon Tanhì that I asked for?" I asked excitedly. I had been asking them to find me a morning star flower on their expeditions and missions since I heard of them a few months ago. Kiri told me they glow in the dark even after being cut from the bush, an indigo bioluminescent glow that never fades. They're fairly rare so Max said they would keep an eye out but to not count on them finding one. I planned on an open air terrarium to use as a night light if they ever happened upon one while they were out doing research. I just wanted to bring a little of Pandora's beautiful bioluminescent night flora to me since I can’t go outside to see them myself.

"It's something a bit more exciting than that. Come on, follow us, kiddo." Max said before grabbing my wrist and pulling me forward toward the back of the lab. He seemed a little too excited and I almost tripped forward with the force of his pulling. I laughed and told him to slow down a little bit. 

"Sorry, it's just been really difficult to keep this under wraps. You have no idea how many times I almost told you. Honestly, I'm surprised Norm hasn't." Max said, chuckling as Norm exclaimed an indignant "Hey!" while shaking his head fondly.

We reached the back door of the lab that went to the actual laboratory, of which I am typically not allowed into. I'm generally very clumsy because of my issues and Max is always doing some sort of dangerous chemistry experiment that would cause some serious damage if I knocked it over. Maybe even an explosion if the right compounds are left laying around. While that might bring me some much needed excitement to my life, I still opt to just leave the lab alone. 

"It's in the chem lab?" I asked, entirely confused as to what I could possibly want to see in there. It was the most boring room in the whole building.

"Yes. And you need to close your eyes. I want it to be a complete surprise." Norm said, looking over at Max while wiggling his eyebrows like a total goof.

"Okaaaay...." I said, finding their strange demeanor highly suspicious. I closed my eyes and felt Max's large hand on my shoulder, guiding me. I could feel the warmth of it seeping into my skin as Norm, presumably, opened the door to the chem lab. The shrill shriek of ungreased steel grinding on steel was heard in the chem lab and the rustle of thick canvas-like fabric made me shift my weight to my other foot anxiously.

"Okay... come on in guys." Norm says as Max guides me in the room, making sure I don't trip as I step over the raised door frame. I was taken about 10 feet into the lab before Norm told me I could open my eyes. I blinked slowly as my eyes adjusted to the sterile white lab lights. I could only cock an eyebrow, unimpressed as my eyes land on what looks like a large tube covered in a large brown tarp of some sort. The tube had to be at least ten feet long. I looked over at Norm expectantly and a flash of recognition came on his face as he stumbled forward to pull off the tarp.

"Sorry..." he mumbled while lifting the heavy fabric off the large tube. Inside the tube is a female Na'vi. No actually, I count 5 fingers, so it’s an avatar. She was jerking and I could see her nose twitch, like she had smelled the acrid dung of a viperwolf. I realized it bared a strong resemblance to my own as I reached out to touch the glass. When I did she curled forward slightly toward my touch, almost as if she was reaching out to me as well. As she stretched out of the fetal position I saw her whole face and my world stopped. 

"No... there's no way. You guys said there was no way." I whispered looking over at Max and Norm. I couldn't allow myself to believe it until they told me through their own mouths. I had gotten my hopes crushed too many times as a child to allow myself to believe this so easily.

"Well, remember when Grace's Avatar started deteriorating when you were thirteen? And then when you were fourteen we laid her to rest? Well using her chamber and some supplies we found at an abandoned outpost we were actually able to incubate an avatar for you. That's you sweetheart." Norm said, grinning at me and gesturing to the body. 

I feel my knees tremble and buckle as a litany of emotions surges through me, falling forward slightly before Max caught me and helped me up. All I could do was bury my head in his shoulder and cry. These men, who loved me and raised me, have given me the gift of life again. I couldn't breathe so I just squeezed him and shook as the emotions and fears flew through me. I could vaguely register Norm coming up behind me to hug both of us. After a good cathartic cry we all released each other from our group hug. 

"I... I don't know how... I can't... thank you, both of you." Was all I could manage to get out as my voice trembled with emotion. Hesitantly I walked over to the avatar. "She's... beautiful." I reached out to touch the warm glass, tracing my fingers over her face. Well, I guess my face? I guess it will feel more like my face after the consciousness transfer. Her blue skin looks so radiant and soft. Unlike the Na'vi I know she looks so untouched. Almost like a child. She is free of the scarring that comes with growing up in the dangerous Pandoran forests. I admire the markings on her face, taking in all the details and tanhì, or bioluminescent freckles that spray across her face and body. Her hair floats in the blue solution cascading in waves down the gentle slope of her back all the way to her tail.

"We know. Trust me, we know how much you need this. How much you've needed this since you were a kid... and yes she really is beautiful." Norm compliments, squeezing my shoulder. 

"Now, I have to say this before you get your hopes up. We have great hope that the consciousness transfer will work, but kiddo, there's a small possibility that it might not and I need to prepare you for that." Max says solemnly from my right side. That was just like him, always ruining a sentimental moment with his warnings. 

"I know, Max. But still, the fact that you wasted all these resources on me means a lot." I said, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"It's not a waste. Don't… don’t say that, (Y/N). We would both do anything to make you happy." Max replies, looking over at Norm as he nods to me.

"So when can I go in?" I said as I finally let the excitement fill me. It was so strong that my stomach feels queasy; to the point that I feel I might throw up my wheat ration pancakes. 

"Well," Norm piped up, "we were thinking about doing a test run tomorrow. Kiri and Lo'ak are supposed to come anyway for movie night. We thought you'd like to surprise them." I nodded excitedly while smiling at them. I truly loved these two men. They were the closest things I had to parents and I'm so grateful that mom left me in their care. My chest feels so warm as I give both of them another short hug that I think it might explode out of me in a spray of rainbows and sugar. Honestly, all this lovey dovey shit was getting sickening. 

"Now let's go have some birthday food." Norm suggests while he unfolds the tarp to cover it up again. We went and ate our traditional birthday barbecue (not really because it's not cooked on a grill but we have lots of blow torches for sciencey reasons that we use to cook it). It's a decadent meal that could only be spared a few times a year, and one of my absolute favorites. After that they sang me Happy Birthday, and all-mighty Eywa was it super off-key. Soon after that I bid them a goodnight so that I can go to bed early so tomorrow will come a little faster. As I lie in bed all I can think of is tomorrow morning and the possibility of being unable to establish a neural link. 

Due to my anxiety-induced insomnia morning approaches slower than I thought physically possible. Did the suns somehow get delayed rising? Because I swear I've been in bed for two days tossing and turning. Just as I'm about to flip my pillow to the cool side for the fortieth time I hear a gentle knock on my door. 

"Hey, kiddo, it's time to get up. Figured you wouldn't mind an early start today." Max called through the door from the other side. Exhausted, I roll over and heave myself off the bed to get dressed. It takes me a little more time than usual but I finally put on some clothes and bumble out of my bedroom door. 

"Wow. So, no sleep huh?" Norm teases as he looks up from cooking breakfast. 

"Yeah, no. Too excited." I respond, rolling my eyes at him dramatically. I keep glancing at the chem lab door while I impatiently watch him cook and Max notices.

"You have to eat first. It's not ideal that you're tired for your first transfer but it would honestly be way worse if you were hungry too. So. Eat." Max demands pointedly. I sigh as Norm puts a plate down in front of me. I feel my skin buzzing while I eat the breakfast I have thousands of times faster than I ever have before. I almost choke shoveling down the eggs and veggies.

"Hey slow down. Can't have you dying on us before you can actually try." Max says jokingly. Norm pushes him with his arm. 

"Max, don't say that. That's not funny." Norm huffs, giving Max the stink eye. 

"Yeah, yeah." Max replies and I drift away from their bickering as I wait for them to finish breakfast. After we all finish Max goes through a few rules for the transfer and Norm helps me into one of the weird jelly beds used for transfers. He places the wire caging around me and turns away before I grab his shirt and tug on it through the holes of the cage.

"Norm.. Max... I'm scared." I admit.

"I know. But, you have to be brave. I know you can do it." Max said and Norm added a "Yeah, me too." I released his shirt slowly and sighed.

"I know... okay I'm ready." I say and try to relax. As I hear Max flip a few switches and Norm closes the lid I could cuss myself out. Why didn't I try that meditation CD last night?! I think as I try to steady my breathing like Max told me to. As I breathe in I see the flashes of light from the machine. Okay, ‘breathe and count backwards from 20 if you need help’ is what Max advised at breakfast.

In. Twenty.

Out. Nineteen.

In. Eighteen.

Out. Seventeen.

In. Sixteen.

Out. Fifteen.

In. Fourteen.

Just as I am about to call out to Max that it's not working I completely black out. I'm not exactly sure how to describe the experience of a consciousness transfer, how it feels or looks. I think that it feels like dying in a way. It feels like a complete separation from your body, like you are floating out of it, then next thing you know you are blinking at a blinding light ahead of you.

If you have any suggestions or feedback please comment down below or message me! This is my first fanfic in a while, so please excuse my poor grammar. And thank you for reading! Neteyam and the reader will be meeting next chapter.

@skeletondeerart

[dailyanarchistposts]

I.4 How could an anarchist economy function?

This is an important question facing all opponents of a given system — what will you replace it with? We can say, of course, that it is pointless to make blueprints of how a future anarchist society will work as the future will be created by everyone, not just the few anarchists and libertarian socialists who write books and FAQs. This is very true, we cannot predict what a free society will actually be like or develop and we have no intention to do so here. However, this reply (whatever its other merits) ignores a key point, people need to have some idea of what anarchism aims for before they decide to spend their lives trying to create it.

So, how would an anarchist system function? That depends on the economic ideas people have. A mutualist economy will function differently than a communist one, for example, but they will have similar features. As Rudolf Rocker put it:

“Common to all Anarchists is the desire to free society of all political and social coercive institutions which stand in the way of development of a free humanity. In this sense Mutualism, Collectivism and Communism are not to be regarded as closed systems permitting no further development, but merely as economic assumptions as to the means of safeguarding a free community. There will even probably be in society of the future different forms of economic co-operation operating side by side, since any social progress must be associated with that free experiment and practical testing out for which in a society of free communities there will be afforded every opportunity.” [Anarcho-Syndicalism, p. 9]

So given the common ideals and aims of anarchists, it is unsurprising that the economic systems we suggest has common features such as workers’ self-management, federation, free agreement and so on (as discussed in last section). For all anarchists, ”[t]he task for a modern industrial society is to achieve what is now technically realisable, namely, a society which is really based on free voluntary participation of people who produce and create, live their lives freely within institutions they control, and with limited hierarchical structures, possibly none at all.” [Noam Chomsky, quoted by Albert and Hahnel, Looking Forward, p. 62]

This achieved by means of “voluntary association that will organise labour, and be the manufacturer and distributor of necessary commodities” and this ”is to make what is useful. The individual is to make what is beautiful.” [Oscar Wilde, The Soul of Man Under Socialism, p. 1183] For example, the machine “will supersede hand-work in the manufacture of plain goods. But at the same time, hand-work very probably will extend its domain in the artistic finishing of many things which are made entirely in the factory.” [Peter Kropotkin, Fields, Factories and Workplaces Tomorrow, p. 152] Murray Bookchin, decades later, argued for the same idea: “the machine will remove the toil from the productive process, leaving its artistic completion to man.” [Post-Scarcity Anarchism, p. 134]

The aim would be to maximise the time available for individuals to express and development their individuality, including in production. As Stirner put it, the “organisation of labour touches only such labours as others can do for us… the rest remain egoistic, because no one can in your stead elaborate your musical compositions, carry out your projects of painting, etc.; nobody can replace Raphael’s labours. The latter are labours of a unique person, which only he is competent to achieve.” Criticising the authoritarian socialists of his time, Stirner went on to ask “for whom is time to be gained [by association]? For what does man require more time than is necessary to refresh his wearied powers of labour? Here Communism is silent.” He then answers his own question by arguing it is gained for the individual ”[t]o take comfort in himself as unique, after he has done his part as man!” [Max Stirner, The Ego and Its Own, p. 268 and p. 269] Which is exactly what libertarian communists argue:

”[We] recognise that man [sic!] has other needs besides food, and as the strength of Anarchy lies precisely in that it understands all human faculties and all passions, and ignores none, we shall … contrive to satisfy all his intellectual and artistic needs … the man [or woman] who will have done the four or five hours of … work that are necessary for his existence, will have before him five or six hours which his will seek to employ according to tastes … “He will discharge his task in the field, the factory, and so on, which he owes to society as his contribution to the general production. And he will employ the second half of his day, his week, or his year, to satisfy his artistic or scientific needs, or his hobbies.” [Kropotkin, Conquest of Bread, pp. 110–1]

Thus, while authoritarian Communism ignores the unique individual (and that was the only kind of Communism existing when Stirner wrote his classic book) libertarian communists agree with Stirner and are not silent. Like him, they consider the whole point of organising labour is to provide the means of providing the individual with the time and resources required to express their individuality. In other words, to pursue “labours of a unique person.” Thus all anarchists base their arguments for a free society on how it will benefit actual individuals, rather than abstracts or amorphous collectives (such as “society”). Hence chapter 9 of The Conquest of Bread, “The Need for Luxury” and, for that matter, chapter 10, “Agreeable Work.”

In other words, anarchists desire to organise voluntary workers associations which will try to ensure a minimisation of mindless labour in order to maximise the time available for creative activity both inside and outside “work.” This is to be achieved by free co-operation between equals, which is seen as being based on self-interest. After all, while capitalist ideology may proclaim that competition is an expression of self-interest it, in fact, results in the majority of people sacrificing themselves for the benefits of the few who own and control society. The time you sell to a boss in return for them ordering you about and keeping the product of your labour is time you never get back. Anarchists aim to end a system which crushes individuality and create one in which solidarity and co-operation allow us time to enjoy life and to gain the benefits of our labour ourselves. Mutual Aid, in other words, results in a better life than mutual struggle and so “the association for struggle will be a much more effective support for civilisation, progress, and evolution than is the struggle for existence with its savage daily competitions.” [Luigi Geallani, The End of Anarchism, p. 26]

In the place of the rat race of capitalism, economic activity in an anarchist society would be one of the means to humanise and individualise ourselves and society, to move from surviving to living. Productive activity should become a means of self-expression, of joy, of art, rather than something we have to do to survive. Ultimately, “work” should become more akin to play or a hobby than the current alienated activity. The priorities of life should be towards individual self-fulfilment and humanising society rather than “running society as an adjunct to the market,” to use Polanyi’s expression, and turning ourselves into commodities on the labour market. Thus anarchists agree with John Stuart Mill:

“I confess I am not charmed with an ideal of life held out by those who think that the normal state of human beings is that of struggling to get on; that the trampling, crushing, elbowing, and treading on each other’s heels, which form the existing type of social life, are the most desirable lot of human kind, or anything but the disagreeable symptoms of one of the phases of industrial progress.” [Collected Works, vol. III, p. 754]

The aim of anarchism is far more than the end of inequality. Hence Proudhon’s comment that socialism’s “underlying dogma” is that the “objective of socialism is the emancipation of the proletariat and the eradication of poverty.” This emancipation would be achieved by ending “wage slavery” via “democratically organised workers’ associations.” [No Gods, No Masters, vol. 1, p. 57 and p. 62] Or, to use Kropotkin’s expression, “well-being for all” — physical, mental, emotional and ethical! Indeed, by concentrating on just poverty and ignoring the emancipation of the proletariat, the real aims of socialism are obscured:

“The ‘right to well-being’ means the possibility of living like human beings, and of bringing up children to be members of a society better than ours, whilst the ‘right to work’ only means the right to be a wage-slave, a drudge, ruled over and exploited by the middle class of the future. The right to well-being is the Social Revolution, the right to work means nothing but the Treadmill of Commercialism. It is high time for the worker to assert his right to the common inheritance, and to enter into possession of it.” [Kropotkin, Op. Cit., p. 44]

So, while refusing to define exactly how an anarchist system will work, we will explore the implications of how the anarchist principles and ideals outlined above could be put into practice. Bear in mind that this is just a possible framework for a system which has few historical examples to draw upon. This means that we can only indicate the general outlines of what an anarchist society could be like. Those seeking blue-prints and exactness should look elsewhere. In all likelihood, the framework we present will be modified and changed (even ignored) in light of the real experiences and problems people will face when creating a new society.

We should point out that there may be a tendency for some to compare this framework with the theory of capitalism (i.e. perfectly functioning “free” markets or quasi-perfect ones) as opposed to its reality. A perfectly working capitalist system only exists in text books and in the heads of ideologues who take the theory as reality. No system is perfect, particularly capitalism, and to compare “perfect” text-book capitalism with any real system is a pointless task. As we discussed in depth in section C, capitalist economics does not even describe the reality of capitalism so why think it would enlighten discussion of post-capitalist systems? What hope does it have of understanding post-capitalist systems which reject its proprietary despotism and inequalities? As anarchists aim for a qualitative change in our economic relationships, we can safely say that its economic dynamics will reflect the specific forms it will develop rather than those produced by a class-ridden hierarchical system like capitalism and the a-historic individualistic abstractions invented to defend it!

So any attempt to apply the notions developed from theorising about (or, more correctly, justifying and rationalising) capitalism to anarchism will fail to capture the dynamics of a non-capitalist system. John Crump stressed this point in his discussion of Japanese anarchism between the World Wars:

“When considering the feasibility of the social system advocated by the pure anarchists, we need to be clear about the criteria against which it should be measured. It would, for example, be unreasonable to demand that it be assessed against such yardsticks of a capitalist economy as annual rate of growth, balance of trade and so forth … evaluating anarchist communism by means of the criteria which have been devised to measure capitalism’s performance does not make sense … capitalism would be … baffled if it were demanded that it assess its operations against the performance indicators to which pure anarchists attached most importance, such as personal liberty, communal solidarity and the individual’s unconditional right to free consumption. Faced with such demands, capitalism would either admit that these were not yardsticks against which it could sensibly measure itself or it would have to resort to the type of grotesque ideological subterfuges which it often employs, such as identifying human liberty with the market and therefore with wage slavery … The pure anarchists’ confidence in the alternative society they advocated derived not from an expectation that it would quantitatively outperform capitalism in terms of GNP, productivity or similar capitalist criteria. On the contrary, their enthusiasm for anarchist communism flowed from their understanding that it would be qualitatively different from capitalism. Of course, this is not to say that the pure anarchists were indifferent to questions of production and distribution … they certainly believed that anarchist communism would provide economic well-being for all. But neither were they prepared to give priority to narrowly conceived economic expansion, to neglect individual liberty and communal solidarity, as capitalism regularly does.” [Hatta Shuzo and Pure Anarchism in Interwar Japan, pp. 191–3]

Finally, anarchists are well aware that transforming how an economy works does not happen overnight. As discussed in section I.2.2, we have long rejected the idea of instantaneous social transformation and argued that revolution will take time to develop and change the legacy of centuries of class and hierarchical society. This transformation and the resulting changes in people and surroundings can only be achieved by the full participation of all in overcoming the (many) problems a free society will face and the new ways of relating to each other liberation implies. A free people will find their own practical solutions to their problems, for “there will be all sorts of practical difficulties to overcome, but the [libertarian socialist] system is simplicity itself compared with the monster of centralised State control, which sets such an inhuman distance between the worker and the administrator that there is room for a thousand difficulties to intervene.” [Herbert Read, Anarchy and Order, p. 49] Thus, for anarchists, the “enthusiasm generated by the revolution, the energies liberated, and the inventiveness stimulated by it must be given full freedom and scope to find creative channels.” [Alexander Berkman, What is Anarchism?, p. 223] As such, the ideas within this section of our FAQ are merely suggestions, possibilities.

[hallow-weeni]

PEOPLE I HAVE JUST HAD ANOTHER WEIRD DREAM AND I'D LOVE TO SHARE IT WITH Y'ALL

Imma put it under the cut cus it's long

Cw: Long ahh post, Mentions of blood/cannibalism, Possible mischaracterization

The dream starts off with advertisements on Tv dedicated to a new burger place in town, “Blox_Burgers” is a new burger place. Their gimmick is that the restaurant is robotics and building block themed, with the burgers and food looking blocky.

Not all is as it seems, Some people walk out suffering immense nausea, They all believed it was food poisoning. But then those people suddenly mutate, These people gain a bloodlust for the metalic taste in blood due to the fact that they actually can’t consume metal.

It turns out there’s these little tan robot fleas with googly eyes that are about the size of a dime that can shapeshift into different objects, These things tend to latch on to people turning into naturally occurring things like pimples or moles on human skin in order to blend in and inject the protein that encourages this craving for the metallic taste of blood. In the restaurant they posed as sesame seeds waiting for ppl to lower their guard. Originally it was designed to make people develop an abnormal admiration of metal but it evolved into craving metal and now eating blood all together. The worst part is the flea things can actually asexually reproduce like real fleas, they can make these small jelly like cubes (they sorta look like cube shaped boogers) that should be crushed or melted on sight because if given 30 minutes they can form into another flea.

So the world is in shambles, blood thirsty victims roam the streets, corpses line the sidewalks. It's down to Sam, Max, FoxTail, Boxman, Professor Venomous, Ko and a few other ppl. Together they work to eliminate fleas and save who they can from this fatal error that Blox Inc. caused.

Time skip, The team is in a meeting hosted by Ko and someone else discussing the team name and logo due to a sudden efflux of fleas, and no visible afflicted outside. Everybody except one shows up to this meeting…

Boxman has made a deal with The new ceo of Blox inc himself JOHN DOE, he hijacked Roblox after beating Builderman (the character not the guy) and made another side company to create these fleas designed to take over the world, he was gonna eventually make everyone kill each other for metal in the end anyways. He made a promise to Boxman that he and Venomous will be safe as long as he promised to sabotage the surviving team once they got too close to figuring out the solution. Boxman was given two robots reminiscent of a mouse and a purple snake designed to not attack select people based on voice, he was instructed to put sd cards one containing his voice and and the other Venomous’ voice into the robot. The moment the robots turn on, he begins to speak and they do the EXACT OPPOSITE of what he was told they would do… he turns to the camera and gives the camera a very dissapointed look that says “Cob dammit, I should have known.”, as the mouse-bot lunges at him. The snake-bot slithers away looking for Venomous.

The last of what I remember happening in the dream is a scene where Venomous is talking to himself in his office, trying to evade the snake but it lunges at him, coils around his arm and bites, holding itself into place and infecting venomous.

Side Notes:

- I think it would've made more sense if the robot that attacked Boxman was more of an avian creature, like a chicken or sum - It was implied Foxtail acted as a primary leader and sometimes Sam was co leader and Max believing it wasn’t fair he couldn’t co lead along Sam. - Venomous and Boxman were a part of the team because of their experience with evil robots. - All of the box bots whereabouts are unknown - Boxman Only trusted john doe because he was extremely worried about Venomous and thought he could genuinely protect him by doing this

- I think I vaguely remember SpongeBob in the dream but I'm not gonna tag this post spongebob cus I barely mentioned him in this post

- Foxtail was highly suspicious of boxman for quite a while due to the word “Blox” being very similar to “Box”

Overall rating: 8/10 Would dream again, I’d love a sequel.

Might draw the robots...