#this is sunny’s area of expertise

[ask-emoripals]

top ten list of all the knives that sunny owns

🔪: *Cracks knuckles* Ah hell yeah.

10: three-bladed knife. Outside of the novelty of a tri-bladed knife it really isn’t anything special, still a pretty cool knife though.

9: Recreation of Stone Age knife. Pretty damn badass recreation and a great way of seeing history, but there’s a reason they were phased out with bronze and other metal knives

8: My first knife. Just a steak knife with a small chip on its blade. Still nice to keep for nostalgia.

7: Workplace utility knife. High up primarily for it’s practicality for cutting into boxes and other containers… surprisingly effective in lockpicking into abandoned buildings.

6: Medieval dagger. (with sheath) Makes me feel like a badass assassin, and the sheathe is quite pretty and nice to stim with.

5: Serrated knife with foot long blade. Effectively a short sword. Almost never carry it in public but it’s great for cutting meat from the grocery store, and the serrated edges are good for opening cans. Can’t get higher due to people thinking I’m a serial killer for having this with me.

4: Butterfly knife. Badass appearance and opening mechanism. I use primarily for knife tricks, though it’s great for carving wood.

3: Aztec sacrificial knife. A birthday gift from Mari. Blade is so fucking sharp that I got a severe bleeding by merely brushing against it slightly. Fancy appearance especially with the obsidian blade.

2: Swiss Army knife. Nice appearance, cool and practical functionalities, and is usable in a lot of situations. Less of a knife as much as it it a multitool. But so very awesome.

1: Puukko. A damn beautiful knife, sheath is wood carved with cute kitties, blade has some nice runes, and the handle is made from birch and is so very pleasant to handle. Extremely practical, and can be used to cut meat, brush clearing, cutting tree branches and firewood.

And this is my list for my knife collection. Do ask me other questions involving knives or other weapons, and perhaps the jewelry and crafts I’ve made too.

[sleepymarimo]

𝕤𝕟𝕒𝕡 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕥!

summary: when he sees you falling for the charms of a particular chef, law decides that he needs to step in... pairing: law x gn!reader cw: law is lowkey (highkey) manipulative?? an: a little longer than i thought it would be lol but i hope y'all enjoy wc: ~900 ⤷ based on this song! ⤷ part of this arctic monkeys mini event!

law's decision to take you to punk hazard with him was based on, more or less, rational reasons. you had a level head on your shoulders, your loyalty was unwavering and you were skilled in your area of expertise.

but most importantly? he could keep an eye on you.

yet, as the thousand sunny sailed off with the two of you in tow, he can't help but regret his decision.

with crossed arms, he leans against the railing and watches the love sick cook tend to your every need. the blond pampers you with flirtatious comments and treats of your choice, his eyes pooling with lust.

law can just tell that you're flattered by the attention.

for a second he opts to look away, his gaze snapping downwards to the swordsman who was napping a couple feet from him. he rolls his eyes at the sight, unable to keep his focus off of you for long.

your fidgeting fingers, bashful smile and the way you don't even attempt to push away the cook all wear law's patience down. you even lean into sanji's personal space, your whole body turning as you offered him all of your attention.

are you completely blind? law wonders, unable to hold in a scoff. briefly, he considers grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking the foolishness out of you.

he gets it.

confined to the walls of the polar tang, surrounded by crew mates who were akin to family, this kind of attention must have been appealing to you. that doesn't mean he has to like it, though. especially when, for nearly the past month, he's been thinking of a plan to tell you how he feels.

between managing the crew's best interests and his own desires, he chooses to bide his time. he can hold out. he's been holding out, ever since you came aboard his vessel. but he's smart and wary when it comes to such matters, so he takes to making things happen behind the scenes.

it's a little much, sure, but the surgeon is adamant on getting what he wants.

does he know what's best for you? law likes to think so.

the moment sanji drapes an arm around your shoulders, he decides that he's had enough. a familiar blue hue encapsulates the deck of the ship. "room."

accustomed to the spectacle that is law's devil fruit ability, you simply look towards your captain and offer him an inquisitive expression.

"shambles."

now, you're right beside him.

your head snaps towards where you were once standing, bringing a hand to your mouth when you notice sanji's arm wrapped around the shoulders of a groggy green haired swordsman. the two men don't have time to focus their attention on law, instead turning their anger towards one another as they began to exchange heated blows.

now in your own private corner of the ship, you give law an incredulous look. "law..." you say with some caution. "what was that about?"

he says your name, sharp and direct. "you need to snap out of it."

your brows furrow, arms crossing over your chest. you struggled to connect the dots and understand what he was referring to. the surgeon wasn't exactly the most open when it came to matters of the heart, so it didn't cross your mind that he'd be referring to anything of that nature.

"snap out of it?" you echo back, head tilting. "what're you talking about?"

that perverted chef. he thinks to himself, masking away any hints of displeasure by rolling his eyes and giving you his signature indifferent, observing expression. he'll fall for anything with two legs and a pretty face. just wait for this to all blow over and then i can take care of you how you want me to.

he can't tell you all that though, so he coolly manipulates his words and frames his concern in a more rational light. his tattooed fingers curl around your chin, squeezing lightly as he turned your face back towards the cook. he can't let it show, but he savors the feel of your soft skin under his fingers.

your eyes widen when you see sanji swooning over nami, pulling all the same lines and offering her her favorite dishes. you can feel your cheeks get warm as a sense of clarity runs through you, realizing that maybe you were a little too naive when it came to these things.

but at least you have a captain you can trust to steer you in the right direction, right?

"distractions." he says, simple and to the point, not giving you room to consider any ulterior motives he might have. "we're here for a reason, understand? don't forget what's at stake here."

he lets go of your chin and waits for your response, already thinking about what he would say if you kept insisting on wasting your time with the cook. luckily, you get the point.

you give him a nod and appreciative smile. "yeah, you're right." your shoulders shrug, your fondness towards your captain growing. "i won't forget. i mean, even though we're in an alliance and all that, we should make sure to take care of each other first, right?"

the surgeon can't help but smirk, satisfied. "bingo."

law has patience. he can wait for the right time to make you his, but until then, he'd make sure no one else got in the way.

taglist: @dimplewonie

[hyperactively-me]

Ok, for King!Ghost, how ab Graves as a hunting dog handler who the reader happens to run into one day while at the stables with Soap, and his gaze lingers a little too long 🫣. Soap, being Soap, tells Ghost ab the encounter and he threatens Graves that if he ever talks to his queen again, bad things are coming his way. Sorry if this is a terrible idea, I just have King!Ghost brain rot 😔😵‍💫

omggg great idea for some drama! coming right up!!

warnings: non-con touching (only area of unwanted touch is on princess's hand)

It was a warm, sunny day outside. Spring was such a lovely season here in Kastron. As you entered the stables, the earthy scent of hay and gentle sounds of horses greeted you. You approach your mare, waiting patiently in her stall. She always brought you comfort, a welcome break from your responsibilities in the palace. 

“Hi, baby,” you smile at her. She nuzzles you affectionately, her snout pushing into your hand. You begin to brush her mane, each stroke calming you down from a hectic week.

Just as you were about to saddle your mare for a stroll, a familiar voice broke your reverie. 

“Your majesty! Well, if it isn’t the fairest queen in the land.”

You turn to find the grinning face of Sir Soap, a pleasant surprise for your day. He bows dramatically yet again, making you giggle lightly. 

"Johnny," you greet him with a warm smile, "what brings you to the stables today?"

"Ah, Your Majesty," Johnny replied with a glint in his eye, “I thought I'd pay a visit to my trusty steed.”

“Didn’t you say when we first met that we should go riding sometime?” 

“Ah, yes, I think I suggested the idea!” 

“Well, I was just about to go for a ride, would you want to accompany me?” you ask with a friendly smile. 

Before Johnny could respond, a tall and sturdy figure approached the two of you. He was scruffy looking, yet his physique was lean and athletic. He had a beautiful yet intimidating dog on a leash in his hand. It was the kingdom's hunting dog handler, Graves, renowned for his expertise in training the finest hunting dogs in the kingdom. 

He bowed deeply. "Your majesty, it’s an honor to finally meet you" he said, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Sir Soap. I want to introduce myself.” 

He takes your hand in his, squeezing it with a firm hand, but not tight enough to hurt you. He leans down, bringing the back of your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to it, and you swear you feel the tiniest tip of his tongue over your skin.

You immediately shudder, wanting him to let go of your hand. You yank your hand from his grip, laughing awkwardly as Soap eyes your reaction, unbeknownst to you. Soap steps closer to you, hand resting on the hilt of his sword for Graves to see.  

“I’m Graves. Phillip Graves. I’m the one responsible for handling the hunting dogs for the palace,” he explains, motioning to the dog on the leash.

“May I pet it?” you question, admiring the dog. 

“Only briefly, your majesty. They must be kept disciplined.”

You paused for a moment, then gracefully lowered yourself to your knees, extending a hand to gently pat the dog on the head. Unbeknownst to you, Graves's gaze lingered on you a bit too long, his eyes roaming your figure without restraint. After a moment, you rose to your feet, giving the dog one final scratch under the chin. Graves reached down and offered his hand to help you stand, but he held it just a bit too long, causing you to clear your throat awkwardly, silently signaling him to release your hand. He complies, straightening his posture.

"Forgive me if I was impolite. This is my friend, Sir Soap."

“Oh, I’m well aware of who this is,” he snarks, rolling his eyes at Soap. “No need for an introduction, your majesty.” 

Soap remained silent, but his grip on his sword hilt tightened, and a frown creased his features. After a lingering look at Soap, Graves turned his attention back to you, his gaze making you feel vulnerable as it roved over your form.

“Well, I must be on my way, my lady. If you ever require assistance, please do not hesitate to call upon me.”

Your mouth flounders, unsure of how to respond. The way he says “assistance” makes your insides turn. 

“Good afternoon,” he smirks at you, turning on his heel to walk away with the hunting dog in tow. 

. . .

“Yeah, I’m telling you, the way he was eyeing her like she was a piece of meat…” Soap trails off, anger seeping from his voice. 

“Downright disrespectful,” he spits, clenching and unclenching his fists as he paces the room in front of Ghost. 

Ghost's mind churned with a mixture of anger and concern as he absorbed Soap's words. The image of Graves disrespecting you with his lecherous gaze filled him with a burning desire to rip him limb from limb. But he wouldn’t. 

Ghost cleared his throat, looking at Soap pointedly. “I’ll be dealing with Graves soon enough.” 

“Ay, you should. Otherwise, I would be doing it myself. Jus’ thought to tell you, being her husband ‘n all,” Soap explains. 

“Thank you for informing me, Johnny. That’ll be all.” 

. . .

That night, you slipped into bed with a sigh of relief, your body sinking into the silky sheets. 

You let Simon pull you into him, his hand cradling the back of your head with a certain firmness. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask, hands moving up to wrap around his torso. 

He tenses for a moment, his jaw ticking.

“It’s nothing, love, go to sleep,” he whispers, pressing the small of your back into him. 

You cuddle into him, ignoring the anger rolling off of him in waves. You already know what it's about, you’re just too exhausted to deal with it.

You’ll let him deal with the issue. After all, he is your doting, protective husband. 

. . . 

A single, harsh knock resonates in the study. 

“Please, come in,” Ghost says, rifling through stray papers strewn across his desk.

Graves takes a few steps into the room, standing before Ghost’s desk. 

He takes a quick bow, muttering a hurried “Your majesty” as he bows.

“How may I assist you today?” Graves questions, standing firm.

Ghost leans forward on his desk, hands folded in front of him.

“Don’t speak to the queen again,” he says simply, a sharp edge in his voice.

“Your majesty, I have no idea what you are talking about—”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Ghost says, pushing himself up from his seat. 

He strides to the other side of his desk, standing in front of Graves menacingly. The tension in the room grew palpable as Ghost’s imposing presence loomed over Graves. His stern expression and unwavering demeanor sent a clear message: there would be no room for evasion or deception.

Graves shifted uncomfortably under Ghost’s unyielding gaze. His voice wavered ever so slightly as he responded.

“Your majesty, I assure you. I have always acted with the utmost respect towards the queen—” 

“Do not test my patience.” Ghost’s piercing eyes bore into Graves, and he lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper. “I heard the way you looked at her. The way you treated her in the stables. It will not be tolerated.

Graves swallowed thickly. He had never encountered Ghost in such a formidable state, and the weight of the situation pressed upon him. “Your majesty, I meant no disrespect. I...I simply admired the queen's beauty.”

Ghost leaned even closer, his voice a low growl. “Admiration is one thing, but your actions were far from innocent. If you dare to approach her, touch her, speak to her, or even glance at her again, you will face consequences that you cannot even imagine. I’m protecting her honor. Protecting her.”

Graves nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I understand, your majesty. I apologize if I gave you any reason to doubt me.” 

Ghost straightened up, his expression unrelenting, his seriousness remaining. “Consider this your final warning, Graves. Do not forget the position you now find yourself in. You have been granted a second chance. Do not squander it.”

With that, Ghost returned to his desk and continued to sift through the scattered papers, leaving Graves to exit the room with a sense of anger and fear instilled in him.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[demonpiratehuntress]

Hii this might be an odd request. Feel free to ignore this if you don't like to write.

You know, straw hats have doctor, cook, swardsman, navigator,... Can you add another one who do mathematical, physics and chemistry stuff? If you can please make her a female.

She is not a genius. More like an average person. But she tries so hard. Sometime get lazy and unproductive too.

And if you can please make it a Ace x reader fic.

Thank you.

sure thing! :) it's not very long, because I don't know what else they can do in terms of those things, but i hope you still enjoy it! sorry for the wait!

taglist - @kabloswrld

someone's gotta do it

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

The Straw Hat crew wasn't very big, but it was certainly diverse. You guys had everything ranging from a navigator to a musician, so there were a lot of areas of expertise that were covered. All except for three, you supposed, which was constantly the downfall of the crew in certain situations.

A mathematician was needed, a chemist was needed and a physicist was needed.

You weren't exactly an expert in any of those areas, but you were doing your best to try and make up for those losses. You were doing your best to fill in those roles where absolutely necessary, so it wouldn't cost the crew as much anymore.

You had lots of duties to fill in these areas. You studied the log pose to determine exactly how it worked, marveling at the discovery of geomagnetism and excitedly explaining to the crew how it worked. This helped to better understand navigation in the Grand Line, and you felt useful providing that knowledge.

These duties also included setting a budget for the crew's spending on groceries and necessities, as you had to add up and subtract things you needed and things you didn't. Sometimes it was a hassle, because Luffy kept trying to add things that you absolutely did not need or even want.

"But it looks cool!"

"Luffy! Do you know how far that'll set us back in terms of berries!" You cried in exasperation, knocking your captain on the head. Oh no, you were starting to sound like Nami.

Speaking of Nami, you could also help her with her charts and her navigation. With mathematics, you could assist in charting courses that you've been on, and calculate the exact speed and distance the Sunny would require to get to certain places or away from danger. It was quite useful for that, as you could also determine how long it would take to get to a certain destination. Well, to the best of your ability seeing as this was the Grand Line after all.

"She's new."

An unfamiliar voice met your ears when you stepped out of your room to find the others out on deck, surrounding an unfamiliar man. He looked a bit like Luffy, but with freckles on his cheeks and a cowboy hat on his head.

That and he was shirtless.

You tried your hardest not to stare, blushing madly as you immediately thought that this was a really attractive man. You didn't know who he was, but you were attracted to him.

"Our mathem-mathe-maps?" Luffy tried, unable to pronounce the word.

You giggled and stepped forward, holding out your hand, "I'm (Name), the newest member. I do all the mathematics, physics and chemistry around here. Or, at least, I try my best."

The man grinned and shook your hand, "Nice to meet you! I'm Ace, Luffy's brother."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, "Luffy's...brother?!"

Ace didn't seem offended, instead he laughed at your reaction, "Yeah, we get that a lot." He got Luffy in a headlock and ruffled his hair. "It's always hard to believe this little idiot is my younger brother, since I'm so charming and intelligent."

You giggled at his words, then even more so when the crew all disagreed with the second trait he mentioned.

Ace stuck around for a few days, wanting to spend some time with his little brother now that Luffy was a bigshot pirate with a big bounty and a special crew. But instead of hanging at his brother's side, Ace was curious about you. He thought you were cute, so he tried to spend some time around you, and you fell victim to his charms and his flirting.

"So, whatcha working on?" The commander grinned, leaning against your desk as you wrote down a few formulas for different chemicals.

"Hmm?" You glanced up, then blushed and quickly looked down. "Oh, nothing. I was just trying to find out how different chemicals and substances react with each other, in case we ever come across some weird devil fruit power or a chemical environment."

"And? Anything interesting?" He prompted, still smiling.

You sighed and shook your head, "Nothing useful. I'm kind of getting bored and I don't really want to read more."

He laughed then, standing up straight and holding out his hand, "Then come with me. And you can tell me about navigation using the stars."

You blushed again but accepted his offer, taking his hand and following him out. The two of you lay on the grass and stared at the sky, as you explained how sailors could locate the positions of islands or navigate where they needed to go using certain constellations and stars. He listened intently, not usually interested in this stuff but eager to hear you talk. He liked your voice, and he thought it was refreshing to see someone talking animatedly about something other than treasure or the One Piece.

"That's interesting," he spoke when you were done, "My brother's lucky to have someone so smart on his crew."

"Oh I'm not that smart," you turned red and shook your head, "I just try, that's all. Most of the time I don't even do anything and I just lay and watch the sky. It's hard to be motivated sometimes."

He studied your face as you said this, then grinned again, "Well, everyone gets lazy and unproductive sometimes. The good thing is that you're trying."

His words reassured you, and you smiled at the thought that he was impressed by you. You glanced at him quickly, then looked back at the sky and felt your heartbeat quicken.

"Someone's gotta do it."

He laughed at that, and turned to face you, "I like you. You're a refreshing change of pace in the world of pirates. No one usually cares about what you do, so it's nice to see you care."

Your cheeks warmed up at that, "I just don't want it impacting my crew, that's all. Sometimes we get let down by not knowing this stuff. I just want to protect my crew from that."

"A noble cause," he agreed.

You snorted, "Since when is anything pirates do noble?"

And the two of you laughed and joked around there under the star-filled sky, and suddenly you didn't feel so ridiculous about wanting to specialise in those topics that pirates generally never used.

Maybe you could also do it for you.

a/n - so, um, i dont even know if i got this right so im SO sorry if i didn't! i wasn't really sure how to go about it, so im really really sorry if it's disappointing. i tried, though!

[canisalbus]

Just recently discovered your tumbler and I love everything about it. Your art style, the time period you have chosen, the background you are building for the characters. Top notch.

Though I do have a question : going back through all the asks people are tending to focus on sunny boi Vasco supporting nerve wracked Machete but a relationship needs to be equal so, what's the turn around?

When/how does Machete say 'don't worry babe, I've got this'? He is after all a very accomplished and competent person inside his areas of expertise.

Because of his trusting and altruistic nature, Vasco has been burned in relationships before. Even though he's good at reading people and might sense that he's being treated unfairly, he endures it because he doesn't want to be the bad guy and upset the other person. He's from a well known noble family, he's affluent and he's considered to be very good looking. Over the years he has met countless people who wanted to take advantage of him, his status and his assets in a way or another, and he has hard time tolerating that kind of greed and dishonesty. Machete has never been interested in his pedigree or wealth, and the way he's utterly devoted to him makes Vasco feel confident and secure.

He's been forced into various boxes and moulds all his life, his family had high expectations for him and did their hardest to whip him into a shape that satisfied them (now that I think about it, Vasco's parents probably would've been proud if their son turned out more like Machete, hard working high achiever). He tries to not let it bother him, but on some level he does feel guilty for letting them down. Machete is Vasco's biggest fan, he earnestly believes in him and loves him the way he is. He feels like he doesn't have to pretend to be something he's not around him, but at the same time Machete's influence makes him want to be a better person. Vasco admires his ambition, knowledge, diligence and perseverance. Machete tries very hard to be a good person and do a good job, but because he's so difficult to get close to and puts up such a cold facade, his efforts tend to go unnoticed. Vasco sees this side of him and finds it very charming.

Machete could use a lot of tlc and Vasco is happy to be there to provide it. The fact he's able to have such a profound positive effect on someone and their quality of life makes him feel needed, he feels like he's contributing something good to the world and that gives him strength. It's not like his only job is to pat Machete's head and tell it's going to be alright though, they enjoy each other's company and feel at ease together. In a way Machete also has a calming effect on Vasco. On his good days he can be very pleasant company, he's interesting to talk to, he's kind and gentle and even awkwardly funny at times, he has an eye for beauty and is able to appreciate small good things in their lives. He isn't an expert in expressing his affection physically, but when he does, Vasco can trust that his attempts are authentic.

Machete may not always know the correct words and gestures to comfort him, but he's a good listerer and does his best to be there for him. He never belittles or makes fun of him, he's patient and forgiving when Vasco makes mistakes, and will drop everything if he's ever in a need of help. He often makes Vasco feel seen and understood like no one else. Machete is good at solving dilemmas and coming up with working solutions (or preventing problems from ever arising, more often than not), and Vasco has the nerves of steel to keep him grounded and stable at a time of crisis. Together they make a very efficient and resourceful team.

Their jobs are very similar, Machete works for the church and Vasco is a secular politician, but they both deal with diplomacy and foreign relations. They end up working together often, and since Machete is very competent in what he's doing, he often ends up helping and advising Vasco.

I think despite their differences, they're just very well in tune with each other. In the ways that actually matter, they have common interests, tastes and worldviews. They enjoy similar things. And the parts that differ tend to augment them instead of driving them apart. A lot of their fondness stems from the fact they have a lot of shared history, they met at a young age and their friendship-turned-romantic was a very formative experience for both.

Should it be necessary, Machete would face God and walk backwards into hell to protect Vasco.

[qtubbo]

I will combine two of my headcanons, Bagi does woodworking, she carves for fun and Tubbo spent days learning different hairstyles for Sunny (and now Empanada too). Bagi and Tubbo made little cat hair charms for the kiddos, tubbo got the materials and designed the functionality while bagi made the actual charms. Bagi even carved in an unbreaking enchantment even though that’s not her area of expertise. Then tubbo gave Sunny and Empanada any style they wanted and placed in the cute little hair-ties, Sunny ended up crowding around Bagi asking her for more little accessories.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

“I think she loves being associated with that A-List crowd and she loves the idea of us (her adoring public *and* her critical public) thinking she’s that popular, influential, famous, wealthy, connected to be “in” with that crowd. But I think she’s actually terrified to be physically there with that crowd.”

The bolded bits: I think Meghan is terrified of social situations especially ones she can’t control. She tries to present this phobia as some sort of enviable personality trait that makes her alluring, but it’s a trait akin to having social anxiety, but i also think she’s not socialised which means she’s completely uncomfortable in social scenes.

The 2 things play off each other so that she’s both terrified and if she attends then she self- isolates either by sitting to one side away from group ( and forcing her +1 to sit with her too) which compounds the problem. 

You see it long before she forced herself onto Harold and the Uber A-list. At Wimbledon in 2016 when she was hired for Ralph Lauren together with a gaggle of other people. She didn’t mingle with them, didn’t talk to them and spent most of her time on the phone. She stood out because she wore black on a sunny day while her fellow models wore pale colours. 

Attending weddings, but sitting away from her assigned seats and forced her +1 to join her. She did this to Trevor, Corey, Harold. 

The A-list crowd she aspires to befriend terrify her even more than regular social situations because they are uber achievers who can speak to their area of expertise very well while the only thing she’s achieved is a trophy marriage to someone whose intelligence is far, FAR below her own which makes her feel smart and doesn’t trigger her social anxiety. 

*******************

Your last point is very, very good. That’s why I’m skeptical she’d ever let Harry go. They may divorce, but even if they divorce and even if she gets another husband, she will always “possess” Harry. He’s so dim-witted and blind to how things really are (Spare did him absolutely no favors at all) that it makes Meghan looks Mensa-certified by comparison. He’s her golden goose in more ways than one, and she’s not giving that up. 

If they divorce, they’re going to be the messy soap opera exes that are always cheating on new partners with each other.

[manorpunk]

Teach Me, Maria-sensei! 4️⃣

Maria Lorraine is best known as the author of “Authoritarianism is Good when I Do It,” a sprawling tract which is supposedly about the relationship between philosophy, the creative arts, and imperialism, but also contains many odd tangents and suspiciously specific complaints. Maria is second-best known for ‘the Turk speech,’ in which she argued at a Poster’s Union meeting that “if there is, hypothetically, such a thing as a ‘master race’ or a people chosen by god, it would objectively have to be the Turks.” The meeting ended in a brawl that left several posters hospitalized. “If there is, hypothetically, such a thing as x” lives on as a popular meme to indicate an absurd or overly combative argument.

+++++

Maria Lorraine: Do you want to know the difference between Eastern and Western philosophy, Sunny?

President Sunny Roosevelt: Honestly, not really, but I’ve interrupted you enough already so I’ll let you have this one.

Maria: The origins of Western philosophy are found in the symposia, ancient Greek parties which revolved around wine, conversation, and sex, while the origins of Eastern philosophy are found in the shi, a class of itinerant advisors who would travel from region to region offering their services to local rulers and ministers, and writing treatises to show their administrative expertise. In other words, the origin of Eastern philosophy is the just and proper administration of a state, while the origin of Western philosophy is drunken pederasty.

Sunny: Hey, maybe both sides have a point.

Maria: Now, are you at all familiar with Taoism?

Sunny: Sure. You’ve got your Yin, and you’ve got your Yang, and they’re like opposites, right? Night and day, hot and cold, all that good stuff. And everything’s made up of Yin and Yang, and they’re always turning into each other, or something like that.

Maria: That is the popular perception - and it’s pronounced yang, rhymes with song.

Sunny: Correcting my pronunciation is such a - Wait, what does all that have to do with running a state?

Maria: Oh, you’re actually paying attention. As I said, that is the popular understanding of Taoism, but the truth is deeper - Taoism is not mere metaphysics, but a layered and intricate metaphor for the administrator’s craft. It is something one can ponder for a lifetime and not exhaust even a fraction of its implications. Two forces, so diametrically opposed that they cannot exist without the other, a syzygy…

Sunny: You’re making that up. No way is that a real word.

Maria: Night and day, hot and cold, male and female… urban and rural, centralized and decentralized, core and periphery. Do you see what I’m getting at?

Sunny: [nods] Not even a little.

Maria: Let me put it this way. Rural people complain about the rootless superficiality of the urban people, and urban people complain about the obstreperous traditionalism of the rural people. Both seek to shape the other to be more like themselves, but they are both products of their context. Rural areas exist because resource industries - logging, mining, agriculture - are spread out by their - pardon the pun - by their very nature, while the development and production of consumer goods and services requires factories and offices which leads to urbanization. The existence of one depends on the other, and it is that dichotomy which allows society to function. Theoretically.

Sunny: Ahhh, now I see. Urban and rural are like a siggy-ziggy.

Maria: Syzygy.

Sunny: Why does that matter, though?

Maria: Why does it matter? Half the country is one big cyberpunk megapole and the other half is a neo-feudal wasteland. The ideological conflict between these two extremes will be a defining challenge of your tenure. It…

Sunny: No, I mean why does it matter that I properly pronounce your stupid made up words?

Maria: Because all words are made up, and ‘syzygy’ is a lot faster than saying ‘a pair of forces which are diametrically opposed and yet interconnected because of their opposition,’ and understanding established terminology means you can actually engage with…

Sunny: Why not call it a beep-boop?

Maria: What?

Sunny: If you just need a word you can use to refer to the concept, why not call it a beep-boop? [Peace sign] Beep-boop!

Maria: Cease this whimsy, it sickens me physically.

Sunny: Beep-boop!

[soulnb42]

Times Like These (part 7)

AO3

Beatrice was startled out of her slumber by Ava’s agitation. She stood up and made her way to the bed. Within two minutes she was in bed, holding Ava to her.

Their talk at the lake had helped Ava to get over the roadblock that was impairing during training. Now, she was able to tap into the Halo. It had helped opening the channel of communication as well. That being said, it hadn’t made a dent into Ava’s night time struggles.

Ava had yet to have a quiet night of sleep. Every single night since they had arrived in Switzerland, she had been tossing and turning, fighting off bad dreams. There had been three very bad nights when Halo had surged in the midst of it all. Most nights though, Ava was only crying in her sleep.

Beatrice was a light sleeper, so she’d always wake up as soon as Ava was becoming agitated. She’d hold Ava in a tight embrace and whispered soothing words. Sometimes Ava calmed down immediately, sometimes she’d wake up in alarm. Beatrice would simply rock her back to sleep, all the while assuring Ava that she was safe and everything was okay.

The light jolt and sharp intake of breath indicated to Beatrice that Ava had escaped the grip of whatever bad dream had plagued her.

Ava put her hands on the arm Beatrice had around her chest and squoze, as if to assure her that she was awake and Beatrice was really there. The gesture was familiar by now, in fact Ava did the same every time she woke up.

Beatrice felt the slight tremor of Ava’s body, she listened as Ava tried to get her breath slowly back in control. She didn’t prompt Ava to talk. She had on other occasions but Ava never wanted to, so she never pushed, not wanting to add to Ava’s distress.

Ava leant against Beatrice, resting her cheek on Beatrice’s forearm. The nightmare hadn’t seemed too intense, but whatever it was, it had rattled Ava because suddenly she was crying, her body shaken with silent sobs.

Beatrice tightened her embrace. She was at a complete loss. She couldn’t think of anything to say either. She had never been good at comfort. It wasn’t that she didn’t know when people needed comfort, because she did, she was very much an empath. It was just that she never knew what to say or do, to alleviate one’s pain.

This was Camilla’s area of expertise. Camilla always knew what to do or say to keep the morale up, to make things okay, give hope, reassure and comfort. 

Well, that was it… what would Camilla do?

“The sun has gone and forgotten me…” Beatrice started to sing with a soft but unsteady voice.

Beatrice didn’t remember why or how the topic had come to be discussed, but she had once mentioned one of the very few good family-related memory she had to Camilla. One of the only good things she had preserved really: a song. One day long after having shared that memory with her, Camilla had sung it back to Beatrice when she was down and it had immediately lifted her spirits up, as if Camilla had known she had only needed a little reminder.

She didn’t know if the song would have the same soothing effect on Ava, but right now, it was all she had so, she committed to it in all her awkward glory.

“…somebody told me, I don’t know who, whenever you are sad and blue…”

She rocked them gently along the song, she was singing it slower, turning it into a lullaby.

“…Hang on things will be alright, even when it’s dark and not a bit of sparkling, sing-song sunshine from above spreading rays of sunny love, just hang on…”

Ava was emotionally exhausted. Just breathing was near impossible, emotions, like an anvil were weighing onto her chest. She couldn’t even put words to describe her bad dreams, but the feeling of dread, the cold sweat, the fear, the anxiety, the terror, all of it was real and tenfold.

She was surprised at the sound of Beatrice’s voice, but she gave it her full attention. If she was a boat caught up in a storm of terror, Beatrice was that hopeful lighthouse in the distance, guiding her back to safe shores.

“…and so I hold on to this advice, when change is hard and not so nice…”

Beatrice didn’t think she was a good singer, but kept on with her song if only because it seemed to have the intended pacifying effect on Ava.

Ava hung onto Beatrice’s voice and her embrace. She focused on the warmth, the softness; she let the song fill her, guide her mind back in the moment. She was safe.

“…if you listen to your heart the whole night through, your sunny someday will come one day soon to you.”

The song came to an end, but Beatrice kept on with her soft rocking motion. In a silent thank you, Ava delivered a lingering kiss on the forearm across her shoulders.

After a few seconds, Beatrice rearranged her position as the big spoon and Ava put her hand over the one Beatrice had on her stomach, entwining their fingers.

Ava eventually fell asleep again, Beatrice watched over her for almost forty minutes before giving in to her own exhaustion.

xxxOxxx

When Ava woke up, the first rays of dawn were piercing through the window. She wasn’t surprised at the fact that Beatrice was no longer in bed. It didn’t matter how many times Beatrice lull her back to sleep after a nightmare, she was never there in the morning.  Ava wondered if she went back to sleep on the couch once she, herself, was asleep again.

With a sigh, she sat up and rubbed her face. She listened for movement but there was none, so she deduced that Beatrice was out for a morning walk or run. She got out of bed and started her own morning routine.

By the time Beatrice came back to the apartment, Ava had showered, dressed and made the bed.

“Morning,” Beatrice said when she spotted Ava eating cereals at the kitchen table.

“Morning.”

Ava took note of the light sheen of sweat and tilted her head when a thought occurred to her. “Don’t you think it’s weird that you go for a run before our training session?” she asked.

“Why is it weird?”

“Well, you always start our training session with a run… so if you go for a run before that run… it’s like… rehearsing a rehearsal,” Ava shrugged.

“I’m just… warming up,” Beatrice replied. “Besides, I need all the stamina I can get to keep up with you, because I don’t have an ancient artifact powering me up.”

It wasn’t a lie, Beatrice had to train herself on top of their regular training to keep up her shape. But if she was honest her pre-training morning run was just a way for her to clear her head.

She always felt unnerved in the morning after spending the night watching over Ava and holding her through the night. She knew things would have been different had she been in exile with Camilla, or Lilith or Mary. There was something about Ava. Their connexion had been different from the beginning, but it had truly changed when they had been training at Arctech to prepare their Vatican mission.

It was easy to ignore whatever that thing she felt was on a normal day, but their confinement, her worry about Ava and the constant proximity changed everything. Things long buried were trying to surface and Beatrice couldn’t allow that.

So, she ran. She pushed herself physically to keep her mind off it. By the time she was back, she generally felt centred again, in control.

“I do see your point, I still think it’s kind of weird,” Ava stated with a smirk.

“Whatever,” Beatrice rolled her eyes. “Let me shower and change, then we’ll go train.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

xxxOxxx

After their training they had come back to the apartment, stayed long enough to freshen up and have lunch, then they had gone to the bar for their shift.

After a long day, they were eating dinner, at least Beatrice was, Ava was pushing her food around. Beatrice had noticed how during the day Ava’s mood had improved when they had been training or working, but now it had shifted back to something darker.

Ava had a luminous personality. She was always upbeat as a general rule, seemingly finding something to smile about at every turn. Beatrice was no fool, she knew some of Ava’s joking and ‘can’t-take-anything-seriously’ nonchalant attitude was a defence mechanism, but there was also a genuine sense of constant wonder at the world around her.

Beatrice assumed that Ava was just catching up. After all, she had been confined in one room, prisoner of a bed and unable to feel anything for a very long time.

Ava was full of life so as a result, when her mood was down, it was unsettling and impossible to ignore.

“Not to your taste?” Beatrice broke the silence effectively pulling Ava back from her thoughts.

Ava looked up in a daze, then she seemed to realize what she had been doing. “No, it’s good,” she shook her head.

A memory of being force-fed a mixture so horrid it could barely qualify as food, and then being severely berated for avoiding it popped into her head.

“I’m sorry, I know I should stop being an ungrateful brat and eat, there are people starving…” she mumbled bitterly.

Beatrice frowned, surprised by the vitriolic words. She knew that tone though, enough to deduce those words weren’t Ava’s but had been drilled into her repeatedly enough to leave a mark. Beatrice had plenty of those toxic gems in the recess of her own mind, luckily, she knew how to deal with that kind of things.

“Actually, you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to,” Beatrice pointed out. She made sure to be gentle with her tone so Ava knew everything was fine. “There’s this thing called a food container and this even more amazing device called a fridge. The combined use of the two allows us to save food from being wasted.”

Ava hiccupped with amusement. “You don’t say.”

“Mind-blowing, I know,” Beatrice kept on with her teasing.

Ava stared at her for a long moment, her expression brightened a little but to Beatrice, the lightness seemed a bit forced. “I was talking to Hanz today,” Ava said non sequitur. “About what it was like to be a bartender. One of the things struck me as funny. He said something about people confiding in him and how there was this unwritten rule in the bartending world that as a bartender he was like a priest, bonded to secrecy.”

Beatrice listened attentively, waiting to see the point Ava was trying to make. “So…”Ava dragged the word out. “Technically, you’re a priest now. Well, a priestess.”

Beatrice felt her eyebrows trying to reach her hairline and couldn’t hold the surprised snort of amusement that passed her lips. She didn’t think Ava’s mind would ever cease to amaze her, with its unpredictability. “Right,” she nodded with a playful frown. “Anything you want to confess then, child?” she asked with a mock serious tone.

She had meant her question as a joke, so the abrupt mood shift confused her. The grin on Ava’s lips was sad and permeated with something Beatrice couldn’t quite identify.

Ava turned her attention back to her plate and started pushing food again. She did have a confession to make. The thought of it alone was like a thick dark fog coiling around her, slowly constricting her chest, cutting her air supply, squeezing fear and anxiety back to the surface.

On pure survival instinct her mind latched onto the first thing it could to fight her way back to a safe mental space. That thing turned out to be the echoes of Beatrice’s voice singing to her the previous night.

“The song…” Ava frowned. “What was it about?” she looked back up at Beatrice.

That second non sequitur threw Beatrice for a loop. By now Beatrice was used to Ava’s mind going in unexpected direction, but it was always a steady stream. Right now, it all seemed off, somehow.  

Beatrice couldn’t explain the sense of unease that was nagging at her, she didn’t like it either. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but her instinct told her it was best to blindly hop onto Ava’s train of thoughts without questioning its origin or destination.

“It’s…hum…” she stammered a little before mentally shaking herself. “It’s about a sad little tomato.”

Ava nodded absentmindedly, the corners of her mouth barely lifting up in a failed attempt to grin. “I liked it…”

Before Ava could slip away in her thoughts again, Beatrice added. “My older sister used to sing it,” she paused and then shrugged. “She’d sing almost all the time and this one was one of her favourites. She’d sing it to me when I was upset, or to cheer me up or lull me to sleep.”

Ava’s attention was back on her food, she seemed mesmerized by the slow movements of her fork

“My mother used to sing all the time too. I don’t remember a lot but I remember that.”

Ava felt the familiar ache in her chest at the thought of her mother.

She had been seven when the car accident that claimed her mother’s life had happened. She had been old enough to have a florilegium of memories, but too young for those to be solid and fully timeproof.

If it hadn’t been for Sister Emelyne’s kindness, Sister Frances’ cruelty would have corroded all of Ava’s memories, reducing her mother to nothing but a fleeting, nebulous souvenir.

“Things weren’t…great at the orphanage…” Ava murmured.

Beatrice could count on one hand the instances Ava had mentioned her time at the orphanage. The one constant in those moments was the forlorn expression on Ava’s face.

Maybe it was because she had spent more time with Ava than the others but Beatrice had picked up on the unsaid and subtle cues; it was in some jokes Ava made with depreciating or acidic undertones, in the minute flinches at times as if Ava was expecting a bad touch. Many little details that could easily be missed had led Beatrice to conclude that Ava had been hurt emotionally and physically at some point.  

“Every morning, for the couple of minutes when I was still caught in a sleepy daze, I’d think I had a crazy nightmare where I was paralyzed and alone because my mother was gone…” Ava’s chuckle was bitter. “Then I’d open my eyes only to realize that it was all real.”

The despair Ava had felt then was starting to bubble back up to the surface. She had cried so much during those first days, calling out for her mother every time she’d wake up.

Ava cleared her throat when tears started to prickle her eyes. “One day, Sister Emelyne, she was the kind one,” the fact that Ava had to specify the character of one of her caretaker only confirmed Beatrice’s suspicions of abuse. “She tried to reassure me by saying that my mom would never be really gone as long as I thought about her, remembered her…that only made me cry harder because I had already started to forget…”

Between the accident, being paralyzed, being told every day by Sister Frances how much of a burden she was, how no one cared enough to look for her, the souvenirs of her mother had been fading fast.

“The day after, she came back with a small box, no bigger than a shoe box. She had gone through the belongings that had been brought with me at the orphanage, what had survived the car crash. She had put things from my mother in the box, things that would help me remember.”

It hadn’t been much: a bottle of perfume, a silver necklace, bracelets, two journals – one full and one freshly started, a small sketchbook, a wallet and a book. Small precious treasures, the last traces her mother had left behind.

To Ava, the most prized items had been the journals, pieces of her mother’s mind, thoughts, hope, dreams and her struggles. They had found a dozen of photographs stuck in the pages; pictures of Ava as a toddler, pictures of her mother with people, of landscapes, picture of the both of them. Ava’s favourite picture though, had been used as a bookmark in the book her mother had been reading. It had been taken at her seventh birthday, the both of them beaming at the camera.

All of Ava’s memories had flooded back to the forefront of her mind upon seeing the objects. That day she had felt a tad bit better thanks to Sister Emelyne.

To this day, Ava doubted Sister Emelyne really knew how cruel Sister Frances was, but it was no secret that Sister Frances was feared and not well liked, so Sister Emelyne had made sure the box was well hidden and only took it out whenever she was the one attending to Ava’s care.

Now that box, Ava’s only possessions, was still hidden in the wall of her room at the orphanage, behind two broken tiles. One day, hopefully, she’d get it back.

“You know over the years, there were days I couldn’t remember my mother’s face or the colour of her eyes, but the one thing I’ve always remembered clearly was her voice. The sound of it when she spoke, when she laughed or sung.”

Ava looked up and smiled sadly. “She sung all the time. One of her favourite songs was ‘feeling good’.”

It had taken quite a while for Ava to find the name of the song. She sung it to herself a lot, she had forgotten the lyrics but the melody was clear. Sister Emelyne had surprised her one day with a tape with Nina Simone’s version on it, as well other songs Ava had been able to remember. That day, Ava had cried tears of joy.

“Birds flying high… you know how I feel,” Ava sung the first verse then stopped.

“Oh yeah, that is a good song,” Beatrice agreed.

Ava nodded. “It got me through the bad days.”

That song and the others had helped her mute Sister Frances’ cruel words. Ava had developed other ways to escape over the years, but during the darkest time, her mother’s songs had been the ultimate shield, maternal protection at its finest.

Once again Beatrice picked up on the unsaid. That last statement let her know that Ava’s bad days at the orphanage far outnumbered the good ones.

“I didn’t kill myself.”

If Beatrice hadn’t already known that information, that third non sequitur would have virtually knocked her out. As it was, even though she hadn’t expected them to go down that road, she was able to contain her surprise and keep up with Ava.

“You’ve told me once. I believed you.”

Ava’s jaw worked for a few seconds but no sound came. “I was murdered.”

Beatrice was so stunned by Ava’s statement, her mind went blank for several seconds.

“Sister Frances killed me,” Ava specified. “Those were the drugs in my system.”

Beatrice didn’t say anything, she had the gut feeling that there was more to that revelation.

There was fear in Ava’s eyes, but also something else. It took Beatrice a moment to pinpoint it, she frowned when it finally clicked.

Guilt.

Ava was ridden with guilt, but at this moment that didn’t make any sense.

For a second, Beatrice feared Ava would clam up but her silence turned out to be the perfect prompt in the end.

“I had a friend at the orphanage, my roommate, Diego.” Warm affection tinted Ava’s voice. “Sweet boy, we used to laugh a lot,” a smile lit up her face.

There was a long pause, Ava’s expression darkened again. “When I was running away with JC, I put all the pieces together. I finally figured it all out, how I died,” she continued. “And I knew, deep down in my guts I knew Sister Frances was about to do the same to Diego. I don’t know how I knew but I did.”

Ava pushed her plate away and balled her fists to cover the fact that her hands were shaking. “I ran to the orphanage and I made it just in time because… she was about to kill him.”

Bile was burning the back of Ava’s throat. If it hadn’t been for the Halo the outcome of that particular night would have been different, for all of them.

She bit her lips and looked at Beatrice. A part of her was screaming at her not to say any more. If she was honest, Ava dreaded what Beatrice would think of her once she knew what she had done. On the other hand, she couldn’t bear the weight of that secret anymore.

“I confronted her about murdering me, you know? Because it dawned on me that I wasn’t her first…”

A cold frisson ran down Ava spine as she remembered the feeling of horror when she finally saw the big picture.

“She laughed… gloating about having lost count of the years.”

Breathe. Beatrice had to remind herself to breathe. She needed to temper her emotions because she knew, she knew as dark as Ava’s story was, it was about to get darker.

“Years…years, Beatrice. Can you imagine how many…” Ava trailed off. “She went on saying that she was a saviour, giving her life to look after us, freeing our souls, releasing us into the arms of God…”

Ava heard the venom pouring from her voice. Anger was burning through her veins again, just like it did that night.

There was a pause then Ava cleared throat before continuing. “She murdered me again,” Ava let out a bitter laugh. “I’m probably the only person on the planet who can say they’ve been murdered twice.”

Everything came back full force. The burning of her lungs as they had ceased their function, her struggle to breathe, her whole body turning into heavy lead… life slowly and painfully leaving her body.

“I was dying while she laughed… she was literally cackling, enjoying herself…”

Ava shook her head to get rid of the souvenir. “Only this time, the Halo protected me, it brought me back again.”

That night and every day since, Ava has told herself that it was self-defence… that she protected Diego and herself. In spite of all that, she knew that what she had done was wrong. Also, she couldn’t deny that there had been a second maybe two, when her rage had taken over, when she had wanted to hurt Sister Frances. She had just defended herself afterward, but those two seconds had happened.

Ava looked at Beatrice. She knew that with her next words everything would change. She just hoped she wouldn’t lose her friend.

“I grabbed her neck…”

The words came out so low Beatrice had to strain her ears. When she registered them, cement settled in the pit of her stomach.

“I just wanted her to stop laughing… then she attacked me and…” Ava unclenched her fists, and stared at her open palms. Those hands had hurt and they were hers.

“I just wanted her to stop laughing,” she repeated with a hint of despair, she needed Beatrice to believe her. “I didn’t realise my strength…” she looked up at Beatrice again. “Her neck…” her voice failed her. She cleared her throat and plough on. “Her neck snapped… but I didn’t mean to do it… I didn’t mean to do it.”

Ava’s breathing shortened and became heavier as if there was little to no oxygen in the room. “I killed someone… that’s my confession,” she added in a rush with a glance in Beatrice’s direction.

The harder she tried to breathe and the more her lungs burnt from the lack of oxygen. Ava stood up abruptly and turned to the sink. She braced herself against it, certain she would empty her guts and, or, pass out in any minute.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared Beatrice for that bombshell.

Beatrice was overwhelmed by a myriad of emotions. Emotions she felt for Ava, on behalf of Ava and for herself. She took a deep breath, immediately shutting them all out. She’d have time later to analyse and deal with her feelings, now there was more important things to do.

She got onto her feet and silently approached the body slumped over the sink. Ava was heaving, her grip on the counter was so tight her knuckles were white, and despite her tensed, rigid stance, her body was shaking all over.

Although when on a mission, they primarily incapacitated or wounded whoever they fought against, Beatrice knew her hands had killed. More than once. She had come to term with it. She was a sister warrior and as such she had to accept that while Death was no friend, it was no stranger either.

In any circumstances, the strongest moral compass and the best intentions never truly justified taking a life. They did help to cope with it and appease conscience though. Still, a life was a life. Regardless of any other considerations, Beatrice was of the opinion that all lives should be valued equally. Thinking that some lives mattered more than others was a slippery slope toward extremes. Deciding who should live or die was a power that didn’t belong in any person’s hands.

Beatrice could tell Ava that Sister Frances was a monster with a God complex and no regards for life. She could tell her that although her action was not right, she had effectively saved herself, her friend Diego and who knows how many future victims. She could tell all those things.

She didn’t.

She didn’t say any of those things because she knew nothing she could say would alleviate that particular burden off Ava’s shoulders at that very moment. Ava would have to come to term with it on her own. Beatrice would help of course and be there every step, to talk it through and figure the path toward acceptance.

She gingerly put a hand on Ava’s back. Ava startled at the touch. Beatrice didn’t move, patiently waiting. It took a minute but eventually Ava dared to look at her. Amidst the maelstrom of emotions swirling into Ava’s eyes, guilt, fear and apprehension were the most prominent ones.

Beatrice cradled Ava’s face gently with her other hand then pull her closer. Ava didn’t resist and wrapped her arms around Beatrice in a bone crushing embrace.

Ava took a deep breath and the dam of her emotions broke loose.

Beatrice held on, solid as a rock while gut wrenching sobs shook Ava.

“In my dreams…” Ava hiccupped. “I’m paralyzed again… and she kills everyone… Diego… JC… and you and the others…” her breath was short and unsteady. “She’s laughing and… I can’t do anything but watch…”

Fresh tears doubled on Ava’s cheeks as haunting images from her nightmare came to the front of her mind. Every night, Ava was in her own version of Hell as soon as she closed her eyes.

“… and then she comes for me.”

On a good day, that was when Ava would wake up. On bad days, Frances turned into Adriel and if Ava was terrified when Frances was laughing and hurting people, there was no qualifier for when Adriel took her place.

Ava tightened the embrace trying to absorb Beatrice’s strength and warmth, letting it all wash over her and sip in through to chase away the cold of dread that was running into her veins.

Ava’s relief was incommensurable now that her secret was out. She breathed a little better. She knew it would take a long time before her action stopped haunting her (if it ever truly did), but at least now it would stop eating at her from within.

When she was confessing to Beatrice, the sound of bones snapping, how it had all felt in her hands…everything had come back to her so vividly she had felt sick.

She had expected bad things, judgement, words of reprimand, disgust… she had expected Beatrice to walk away from her. Instead, she had nearly jumped out of her skin at Beatrice’s delicate touch. She had been surprised when she had been brave enough to look up, only compassion and understanding had shone in Beatrice’s eyes.

It had taken the smallest nudge for her to melt into Beatrice’s arms, overwhelmed with emotion Ava had finally broken down.

Beatrice held Ava, she made sure she was breathing in and out slowly, subtly forcing Ava to match her, pacifying her. When she felt Ava’s fists unclenched around her shirt, Beatrice loosened her hold just a little bit and Ava pulled away and looked up at her.

They stared at one another. Neither spoke. Ava’s gratitude was silent but Beatrice heard it loud and clear all the same.

Ava took a step back, completely breaking their embrace. “I’m…tired…I think I’ll go to bed,” she announced with a small nod.

Beatrice acquiesced at her statement and watched her leave the kitchen. She took a deep breath, held it in then exhaled deeply. She’d need a moment to process everything, but not tonight. She chose to focus on cleaning the kitchen to keep her mind of the past few minutes.

She was finishing the dishes when she heard the bathroom door open again. She turned and faced Ava who was standing there awkwardly. With her slightly hunched posture and the way she was swaying from foot to foot, Ava seemed small, younger, to Beatrice.

“You know… you may as well share the bed with me from the beginning. That’s most likely where you’ll end up anyway,” Ava said with an uneasy chuckle.

Ava had a point, Beatrice knew she did, but… well, there was a discomfort she really didn’t want to dwell on. She didn’t want think about that tug she felt when she was holding Ava. It didn’t occur when she was focused on comforting her, no, it’d happen after, during the hour or so she’d keep watching over Ava after she’d fall asleep again.

She would feel the dull tingle of something warm and electric trying to bloom in her chest, in her whole being really. Something that felt good but that she’d instinctively want to repress because she could hear those nagging voices in the back of her mind telling her how wrong it all was among other things. She had spent a lifetime smothering those voices, burying them in the dark recess of her psyche. The very last thing she wanted was for them to be loose again, free, and loud.

Beatrice’s silence was unbearable to Ava. Sure, she had showed understanding and compassion earlier, but now that her confession had had time to truly sink in, Ava was overwhelmed with fear. Maybe Beatrice was disgusted with her after all, maybe she saw her as a monster.

She had just confessed to literal murder, and the thought of losing her friend over it was killing her.

“Do you mind sharing the bed with me?” she asked in one breath. “It’s just that… I feel better… safer when you’re near,” she admitted.

Ava didn’t wait for an answer and turned around to go to bed. She got on her side and forced her eyes closed. Maybe she’d fall asleep rapidly then and wouldn’t have to face an eventual rejection.

Tonight emotional rollercoaster had left her raw. She felt so vulnerable right now she knew she’d probably cry if Beatrice went to the couch. She needed her friend. And something as ridiculous and simple as sharing the bed would let her know that everything was fine, that nothing she had said had changed things between them.

Also, if she was honest, Ava craved Beatrice’s closeness right now. She hadn’t lied when saying that she felt safer with Beatrice by her side.

She heard Beatrice moving around the apartment for her night routine. The sound of the light switch echoed loudly in the silence when Beatrice turned off the light, then there was a long pause. Ava held her breath and sent a silent plea to the universe.

I feel…safer when you’re near

Ava’s words echoed in Beatrice’s mind. Whatever discomfort she felt was ridiculous and irrelevant right now. Ava needed her and that was all that mattered.

After a brief hesitation, she walked to the bed and lied down awkwardly on her back with her arms along her body. She felt tensed, and berated herself for it. She stared at the ceiling and concentrated on her breathing, trying to relax.

Should she hold Ava?

No, probably not, that would be weird. It was one thing to hold her when she was having a nightmare, it was another to initiate that kind of contact out of the blue.

The relief that washed over Ava upon feeling the pressure on the bed, was indescribable. After a couple of minutes, she rolled over to get on her other side so she was facing Beatrice. She cradled Beatrice’s hand in both of her own.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She made out Beatrice’s little nod in the darkness and felt the small squeeze around her fingers. That was all the assurance she needed. Those gestures, as small as they were, let her know that nothing had changed between them, she still had her friend.

She still had her friend.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The songs are 'Hang on Little Tomato' by Pink Martini and 'Feeling Good' by Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse (Nina Simone and Michael Buble both have very cool interpretations).

Thanks for reading

[harmonyhealinghub]

Starting Over Shaina Tranquilino August 11, 2024

After his tech startup collapsed, leaving him with empty pockets and a bruised ego, Max Sullivan wasn’t sure what to do next. The failure had been public and humiliating—what was supposed to revolutionize the industry had barely left a mark. The pressure to deliver on grand promises had led to risky decisions, and when the funding dried up, so did his dreams.

Max retreated to his small, coastal hometown, a place he hadn’t visited since he left for Silicon Valley over a decade ago. The town had changed little, its sleepy streets and familiar faces offering a stark contrast to the fast-paced world he had left behind. At first, it was meant to be a temporary stay—a place to lick his wounds and figure out his next move. But as the days turned into weeks, Max found himself drawn to the simplicity of life there, the way people cared about their community and the environment.

It was during a walk along the beach, watching the waves roll in under a gray sky, that inspiration struck. Max noticed the plastic litter scattered along the shore, tangled in the seaweed, and remembered a conversation he’d overheard in a café a few days earlier about the town’s struggles with waste management. The idea hit him like a lightning bolt: what if he could combine his tech expertise with a focus on sustainability? What if he could create something small, something meaningful, right here?

Max started small, with just a single product—a solar-powered, autonomous beach-cleaning robot. He used his savings to build a prototype, working out of his parents’ garage like he had when he was a teenager. The robot, affectionately named “Sunny,” was designed to sift through sand, collecting debris and sorting it for recycling. It was a modest project, far from the grand ventures of his past, but it felt right.

When Max introduced Sunny to the town, the response was immediate. Locals were intrigued, then excited. They watched as the little robot roved the beaches, quietly doing its job, and the impact was undeniable. The beaches became cleaner, and people started talking about how they could do more to protect their environment. Max was invited to speak at the town hall, where he shared his vision for a line of eco-friendly, tech-driven solutions that could be scaled for other communities.

Word spread beyond the town’s borders. A regional news outlet picked up the story, dubbing Max the “Green Innovator,” and soon, he was fielding calls from environmental groups, local governments, and even some investors who saw potential in his small venture. Max was careful this time, determined not to repeat the mistakes of his past. He kept the business lean, focusing on quality and sustainability over rapid growth.

As orders for Sunny rolled in from other coastal towns, Max expanded his product line—solar-powered compost bins, smart irrigation systems for community gardens, and even a portable desalination unit for areas affected by water shortages. Each new product was born from the same principle: technology should serve the planet, not exploit it.

Within a year, Max’s new venture, “EcoTech,” was not just surviving but thriving. It wasn’t the billion-dollar empire he once dreamed of, but it was something better—something he was proud of. Max had found success, not in the way he had expected, but in a way that felt deeply fulfilling. The community rallied around him, and EcoTech became a symbol of what was possible when innovation met purpose.

Max still walked along the beach most evenings, watching the sunset with Sunny humming along beside him. He had learned that setbacks weren’t the end; they were just the beginning of a new path. And this path, though winding and unexpected, had led him to a place where he could truly make a difference.

[spacenutspod]

ASIA-AQ DC-8 aircraft flies over Bangkok, Thailand to monitor seasonal haze from fire smoke and urban pollution. Photo credit: Rafael Luis Méndez Peña. Tracking the spread of harmful air pollutants across large regions requires aircraft, satellites, and diverse team of scientists. NASA’s global interest in the threat of air pollution extends into Asia, where it works with partners on the Airborne and Satellite Investigation of Asian Air Quality (ASIA-AQ).  This international mission integrates satellite data and aircraft measurements with local air quality ground monitoring and modeling efforts across Asia. Orchestrating a mission of this scale requires complicated agreements between countries, the coordination of aircraft and scientific instrumentation, and the mobilization of scientists from across the globe. To make this possible, ARC’s Earth Science Project Office (ESPO) facilitated each phase of the campaign, from site preparation and aircraft deployment to sensitive data management and public outreach. “Successfully meeting the ASIA-AQ mission logistics requirements was an incredible effort in an uncertainty-filled environment and a very constrained schedule to execute and meet those requirements,” explains ASIA-AQ Project Manager Jhony Zavaleta. “Such effort drew on the years long experience on international shipping expertise, heavy equipment operations, networking and close coordination with international service providers and all of the U.S. embassies at each of our basing locations.” Map of planned ASIA-AQ operational regions. Yellow circles indicate the original areas of interest for flight sampling. The overlaid colormap shows annual average nitrogen dioxide (NO2) concentrations observed by the TROPOMI satellite with red colors indicating the most polluted locations. Understanding Air Quality Globally ASIA-AQ benefits our understanding of air quality and the factors controlling its daily variability by investigating the ways that air quality can be observed and quantified. The airborne measurements collected during the campaign are directly integrated with existing satellite observations of air quality, local air quality monitoring networks, other available ground assets, and models to provide a level of detail otherwise unavailable to advance understanding of regional air quality and improve future integration of satellite and ground monitoring information. ESPO’s Mission-Critical Contributions Facilitating collaboration between governmental agencies and the academic community by executing project plans, navigating bureaucratic hurdles, and consensus building. Mission planning for two NASA aircraft. AFRC DC-8 completed 16 science flights, totaling 125 flight hours. The LaRC GIII completed 35 science flights, totaling 157.7 flight hours. Enabling international fieldwork and workforce mobilization by coordinating travel, securing authorizations and documentation, and maintaining relationships with local research partners. Managing outreach to local governments and schools. ASIA-AQ team members showcased tools used for air quality science to elementary/middle/high school students. Recent news feature here. View of ASIA-AQ aircraft in Bangkok, Thailand. ESPO staff from left to right: Dan Chirica, Marilyn Vasques, Sam Kim, Jhony Zavaleta, and Andrian Liem. Aircraft from left to right: Korean Meteorological Agency/National Institute of Meteorological Sciences, NASA LaRC GIII, NSASA DC-8, (2) Hanseo University, Sunny Air (private aircraft contracted by Korean Meteorological Agency). Photo: Rafael Mendez Peña. The flying laboratory of NASA’s DC-8 NASA flew its DC-8 aircraft, picture above, equipped with instrumentation to monitor the quality, source, and movement of harmful air pollutants. Scientists onboard used the space as a laboratory to analyze data in real-time and share it with a network of researchers who aim to tackle this global issue. “Bringing the DC-8 flying laboratory and US researchers to Asian countries not only advances atmospheric research but also fosters international scientific collaboration and education,” said ESPO Project Specialist Vidal Salazar. “Running a campaign like ASIA AQ also opens doors for shared knowledge and exposes local communities to cutting-edge research.” Fostering Partnerships Through Expertise and Goodwill International collaboration fostered through this campaign contributes to an ongoing dialogue about air pollution between Asian countries. “NASA’s continued scientific and educational activities around the world are fundamental to building relationships with partnering countries,” said ESPO Director Marilyn Vasques. “NASA’s willingness to share data and provide educational opportunities to locals creates goodwill worldwide.” The role of ESPO in identifying, strategizing, and executing on project plans across the globe created a path for multi-sectoral community engagement on air quality. These global efforts to improve air quality science directly inform efforts to save lives from this hazard that affects all.

[wiithstars]

star sign: aquarius mythological creature: fairy folktale: the princess and the pea fairytale character (classical or modern): rapunzel (tangled)

"Rapunzel is a spirited, clever, kind, playful, and a very adventurous girl, though a bit naive. However, she is not afraid to stand up for herself or others when the situation calls for bravery. [...] Rapunzel is also very charismatic; able to influence a group of pub thugs to share their dreams and convince Maximus, the palace steed of the Captain of the Guard, to postpone his pursuit of Flynn until she fulfills her dream on her birthday (which is heavily emphasized). Rapunzel is also known, particularly by Pascal, to be quite trustworthy and never ever breaks the promises she makes." (x)

3 fictional tropes: the pollyanna, the idealist, genius ditz

The Pollyanna - "Characters who undergo various hardships, losing almost everything they hold dear, and yet seem never to lose their sunny disposition." (x) The Idealist - "A character who genuinely believes that their world is A World Half Full; that Humans Are Good, or at least that Rousseau Was Right and a person who will tell you that if you think it's wrong to hope that you're wrong every time. They will take ideals that others have for the future and will do everything they can to take them to fruition, sometimes going too far." (x) Genius Ditz - "This character would be nothing more than The Ditz, except they have one area of expertise in which no one can beat them. When that skill or talent is needed, they suddenly switch gears from airheadedness to hyper-competency. Sometimes they don't even know that they're doing it." (x)

romantic or platonic trope: opposites attract; foolish sibling, responsible sibling

Opposites Attract - "They have conflicting personalities, but they love each other." (x) Foolish Sibling, Responsible Sibling - "In this trope there will be one sibling who is foolish, usually acting melodramatically and prone to doing irresponsible and impulsive things. They may be louder, more outgoing and usually more popular (or at least try to be). [...] The other sibling is often more of a parental figure in the other sibling's life, even if their actual parents are still present. They might be quieter or plainer, though usually they are only quiet or plain by comparison to their obnoxious other sibling. They're almost undoubtedly smarter though." (x)

creepypasta story: All In the Family (x) greek god or goddess: hestia, goddess of hearth and home time of day where they draw the most energy: noon their achilles heel: their pets medieval weapon of choice: pole axe survival, starvation, or death by the undead in the apocalypse: survival by dumb luck (and the help of others) which of the seven sins represent them? horseman of the apocalypse?: gluttony, famine could they pull excalibur from the stone?: yes one aesthetic for each of the five senses (taste, hearing, sight, smell, touch):

blowing a bubble with bubba max and having it pop over your lips, the soft snores of a dog who is peacefully sleeping, a bed of flowers that are a mixture of bloomed and about to bloom, a sugar cookie candle that's been burning for hours, floral lace gently brushing across one's skin

a bad habit that won’t go away: acting without thinking first a recurring nightmare: being back under the care of the first "parents" they knew an object they consider their lucky charm: a charm bracelet that has a heart with each of their pets' names inscribed on it

[fallingsunflower]

My thoughts on Harry's break part 2/2

I want to share some of my thoughts that I've kept bottled up over the past couple of years but it seems pertinent to share them now.

For those who don't know - hi, I'm Sunny. I run this blog but I also have a background in psychology. I have 2 degrees, have worked in several schools and a psychiatric hospital, and have done extensive research in multiple areas of psychology that overlap with what I'm about to outline.

Celebrities aren't my area of expertise. This is just an educated opinion.

You can read my opinion on what Harry's been up to here. I outlined it like that because I wanted to show that Harry's been on the move for a reallllly long time. He keeps busy and busy and while although I think a break is necessary, I don't think it's as simple as that.

Love On Tour consisted of 2 eras - Fine Line and Harry's House - mashed into about 5 years. I think the emotional ending to Love On Tour was partially due to Harry finally saying goodbye to these eras. It was probably mentally exhausting for him to cope with that. In my opinion, the song he composed for the last show wasn't a goodbye song but rather a thank you song to express what words cannot (I often say Harry isn't very good at words). So I think he wanted to express himself via song to end a very good and emotional time in his life.

This was also only Harry's SECOND world tour. I know it felt like a lifetime but he only did Love On Tour and Live On Tour. So when he says it was the time of his life and he'll never forget it, that's because it was LITERALLY HIS SECOND SOLO TOUR. Both his tours were great but I'm sure this one was probably more enjoyable for him. He seemed to fall into a groove and grew in popularity and success. He was selling out stadiums and I think he realized he was creating something incredibly good - such as the good part of the fandom that came together like a family. I think he felt loved and appreciated.

Piggy-backing off of that into more of a psychological route, there's a lot that happens when an artist is on tour. They're surrounded by people 24/7. They have people telling them every day how much they love them. They are also doing something that they love to do. Harry specifically said performing is his favorite thing in the world to do.

So when the lights go down and the tour ends and the artist goes home, it's probably quiet. It's something we struggle to relate to. There are no more people around. There's no more of that extreme love. There's a pause in doing something really enjoyable.

I suspect it's depressing and maybe even a little bit scary. I don't think Harry likes being alone. I think he likes to be busy, even though I think a break will do him good. I just hope he has a good support system. A lot of artists struggle with the in-between time. I won't go into details but I've always worried a little bit about it.

With all that being said, I think it was just plain old emotionally hard for Harry to leave that stage. I think he longs to go back even though it was tiring because sometimes staying busy is better than being left alone to your own thoughts. So I think we're seeing a lot of that aftermath.

Now idk if Harry is going to be taking an extended break. He COULD be but I really just think it was an emotional end for him. I don't think he's retiring or will be gone for a suuuuper long time. I'm also not sure what his Marvel plans look like but I just can't see him putting music on the back burner. He said over and over on LOT that music is his favorite part of his job. Rumors of his retirement have been circulating for months.

This was a pretty long post to explain something but I think it's a complicated subject and people are taking it in multiple extremes. It's also hard to have a convo on Tumblr lmao I prefer in-person but obviously that's not possible (how fun would that be though LMAO)

[golden-afternoon]

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺! 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦?

Welcome to my little garden of whatever is rolling around in my brain at the moment! To be quite honest, I've never owned a blog quite like this one before... I've written various things for a long time, but I've never published more spicy things without the safety net of anonymity, but alas, I can contain my brainrot no longer.

If you are to visit my garden here, there are a few things that I should address first and foremost.

1. You must be 18+ to spend time here. If you do not have your age in your bio or pinned post, I will be removing you on sight. No exceptions.

2. This blog will have nsfw content as well as the fluffy stuff. Darker themes will also be present in my writing but I will do my best to tag things when necessary.

3. I am an anxious little thing and I may come and go in bursts of creativity, so please if there ever are asks or requests and they take a while, I assure you it's not you, it's definitely me.

4. Most of my works will be specific to an AFAB! Reader, simply because it's my area of expertise. I may occasionally write for GN! or AMAB! Readers, but no matter what it will be designated in the warnings.

And if you want to know a little about me...

You may call me Sunny! It's a pleasure to meet you ♡

I am 26, and I use she/her pronouns.

I am very happily in a relationship. Please do not flirt with me ^^'

My current fixations are Genshin Impact, What in Hell is Bad?, Twisted Wonderland, and Degrees of Lewdity. Prepare yourselves for the brainrot.

Thank you again for visiting my humble garden here! Feel free to stay as long as you'd like! There will be a directory below the cut to give you a bit of a map around here.

𖤓 masterlist 𖤓 - ...would be here, but there's nothing to see just yet!

tags

#sunny rambles - just me chattering away about everything and nothing

#sunny originals - original written works by yours truly

#sunny brainrots - thirsts and barely cohesive drabbles i need to get out there or i'll die

#sunny's babies - things pertaining to my ocs (I know that that's not everyone's cup of tea so I'm not offended if you block this tag!)

#sunny's beloveds - oh look, sunny is simping over her favorites again

#letters in the garden - responses to asks/conversational reblogs

#garden bookcase - lovely writings from others

#honored tea party guests - my friends!!! hi!!!

#a little bit of sugar - the fluffy stuff

#a little bit of spice - the horny stuff

taken anons - 🍷

[artsy-hobbitses]

hello! I was wondering about one thing related to Sunstreaker, I mean his trial in court (?) if I can call it that . What were the consequences of his exile? How it went in general?

And did Sideswipe try to intercede for him? Because he finally came back and helped him on the battlefield, and that have to mean something! Did Strongarm also stand up for him because in the end, despite her dislike of Sunstreaker, he would not do anything that could harm his baby-brother.

It’s more like a General Court Martial because what Sunny did was effectively felony treason and let to a domino effect where a lot of people got hurt in the process.

That he saved Sideswipe on the battlefield at MASSIVE risk to his own life however (he had no armor but did not let that stop him) and was running a rescue/mercy mission in war-torn areas were extenuating circumstances, and they NEED manpower and expertise right now, so he is still accepted back to the Autobots.

However he must wear something akin to an ankle monitor during fieldwork (there’s no point confining him, they need him on the ground and the Autobots in general do not run prisons), and has his pay completely forfeited for two years/is working entirely pro-bono for them. He’s also got to pay for ALL the medical damages, therapy equipment and prosthetics incurred from his actions.

Sideswipe was there for support, but did not step in for him because Sunny told him not to. Sunny doesn’t want him to have to take the fall for him again. Strongarm does have a little more respect for him when he accepts their decision on how to deal with him.

[the-imaginary-library]

Book Rec: Alfred Quicke Mystery Series

Alfred Quicke is the star of a long-running mystery series by Glorya M. Hayers, and he's an absolute delight of a detective--one of the prototypical idle-rich amateurs with a quirky charm of his own.

The early books in the series were written when L.D. Melbray was still publishing, and it shows--the books are a bit too derivative of Hopeley in plot and character dynamics. But Hayers finds her voice in the fourth book--and it's a comedic one. A typical Quicke mystery is sunny and light-hearted, taking place on a country estate or in a picturesque locale, where Quicke is roped into solving a mystery--sometimes a murder, but usually something like finding lost jewels or missing pets or tracking down someone's betrothed. It then spirals out of control as Quicke runs into multiple characters who all have competing zany schemes that intersect with the mystery and make the investigation more complicated. As quirky as Quicke can be--he's a fastidious dresser, overly dramatic, and there's a running joke about his many ridiculous areas of expertise that conveniently come in handy during his investigations--he's often the one sane man trying to navigate a book full of crazier characters. These aren't parodies--they're valid mysteries in their own right, and aren't trying to mock any particular mystery tropes or other works--but they are at their best when they're at their most farcical.

The work that best matches the tone of your comp title is the twelfth in the series, Bright Folly, set upon a Coregean country estate. Quicke is charged with tracking down the stolen jewels of his hostess, and teams up with Evlina Milvane, an actress who has crossed paths with Quicke before. She's been known to engage in a bit of jewel thievery for the sake of her friends, but she's always a good-hearted schemer rather than a true villain, and she and Quicke have long shown signs of chemistry. In this book, she becomes a full-on love interest and investigative partner, and the mystery and the love story intersect in amusing, satisfying, and highly-complicated ways. A lot of fans (mostly the female ones) consider it their favorite book in the series, and though there are a few moments that are more impactful if you've experienced their relationship in the previous books, it's a good starting point if you want to see Quicke at his best (and to understand the partnership that will sustain the remaining five books in the series).