#we cant lose this one folks

[szaryherbatnik]

[chaoxfix]

god i need the algorithm to stop recommending lore olympus to me.

reframing a kidnapping of a woman as romance, and painting her mother as an overbearing shrew rather than rightfully worried and protective, and portraying the kidnapper as sympathetic ... what about my overtly feminist ass makes anyone or any algorithm think i'd enjoy ANY hades/persephone romance retellings.

at this point the only hades and persephone retelling i'm interested in is a retelling that focuses on demeter's love for her daughter. one where persephone's abduction and transition from kore, the maiden, to persephone, goddess of the dead and queen of the underworld, was one where she carries out a revenge fantasy against her abductor... She cannot fully escape the underworld, no; she is death, doomed by the narrative. Underground she will stay for half the year. But she will not subject herself to be trapped with him.

hades dies at dawn; hades dies in the spring light, by persephone's power, and a knife garnished with evergreen thistles. demeter holds him down, and persephone cuts the head. judith slaying holofernes; persephone slaying hades.

[problemnyatic]

..

[agangofwolves]

Hey, fat trans woman out there, who has never made a post, who has only ever lurked. I know youve tried a million different methods for dieting. I know youve wrestled with body image issues and dyspmorphia in a way that rivals the burning self-hatred of dysphoria. I know how bad that feeling is. I know you have a closet full of clothes that dont fit you, but you'll wear them "when you lose weight."

Maybe you will lose weight, and thats great, but maybe you wont.

Maybe you cant right now.

Maybe a diet is too hard for you to handle at this point in time.

But that's okay.

I need you to know that, if youve had your life eaten up by this constant, 24/7 anxiety about your body weight, you arent alone in that. Fat trans femmes dont talk a lot about our own experiences, we arent represented like skinny trans femmes. Im real. You're real.

We have been, our entire lives, conditioned to believe in very rigid, strange ideas of cishet beauty, from our assigned gender roles to our weight,

But queer love and queer beauty supersedes that idea. Unlearning that self-hatred is so hard for many fat trans folks, but you can take a step. Its probably a big one, and its a tall order, but, i need you to do something.

I need you to accept that you are fat, at this point in your life. Wear clothing that fits your figure. Look at other girls that look like you. There is happiness in a fat girl's life, i promise you from the bottom of my heart that there is.

[fir3ylolol]

smile! you're on camera

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Staying at Johnny's house is really nice, except...something feels a little off. You find out the hard way when you decide to entertain yourself on the couch.

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, masturbation, accidental voyeurism, making out, face fucking, sex tape, dom/sub, switch!reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!reader, sex in a theater, i physically cant write men who dont whine, he needs pussy!, afab!reader, he wants you so bad omg, smut, shameless smut, porn with light plot

a/n: hehehehehehe...this is inspired by the voice clip in the invasion mode of mk1 where he says he has cameras everywhere. ive been rly inspired lately, but im gna open up requests on here soon, so keep an eye outtt

word count: 2.63 k

Ao3

Something was really off about Cage’s house. After coming back from the tournament and training, you weren’t ready to get back to normal life. And Johnny had offered you a starring role in the movie he was planning to make about Outworld. You accepted quickly, after making sure you wouldn’t have to get naked or be a horrible person or anything like that. But rent is rough, and Johnny is so generous as to let you stay at his place.

His casual, gigantic mansion-y place.

But it was nice. You had your own space, a full fridge, and could still ignore things like work for a bit longer. Plus, Johnny was a surprisingly great host, hosting movie nights in his private theater. Everything was great, except…

You always felt like someone was watching you. As long as you weren’t in your room or the bathroom, it felt like there were eyes on you. Getting a drink of water? It’s there. Sitting on the couch? Being watched. Just wandering into a room? Oh yeah, you for sure feel it. But you brush it off and don’t bother to say anything to Johnny. You figure it’s just dumb paranoia.

After about 2 weeks without any work from Johnny, you’re getting bored. He’s never home, he has work to do and a movie to plan. So you sit around the mansion all day, waiting. Usually, you read, watch stuff, or even just take laps around the house for exercise. But today, you’re just scrolling through social media. Even that is boring to you today. You decide that, hey, you can think of a good way to pass the time. For a quick moment, you forget about feeling watched. Your fingers dip below your waistband, shivering at your touch. It’s been a long time, you’ve been training and then living in someone else’s house. When would you have the chance?

Slowly, you begin to tease yourself, fingers circling your clit. It’s quite embarrassing how much it affects you, but you’ve lost your ability to feel shame. You lose yourself in your actions, whimpers and moans echoing through the empty house. Unable to stop yourself, you finish with an almost violent snap, panting harshly. Pulling your hand out, you finally feel embarrassed, with how fast you were, and how hard you came. Shakily, you stand up and walk towards the bathroom to wash your hands.

You've forgotten what you did by the time Johnny gets home that evening. Smiling as he walks in, a grocery bag in one hand. “Here comes Mr. Celebrity to pass out treats to us poor folk,” you throw your hands out in a joking manner. But there’s a weird look in his eyes, not matching his characteristic smile. “It’s movie night, I had to make sure we had enough snacks,” he walks towards the kitchen, you shortly behind. “Oh yeah! What’s the movie tonight?” You lean against the counter, searching through the bag.

“The Thing. We haven’t done any horror movies yet.” He grabs a glass of water, drinking deeply. But that look is still there. It almost scares you away at how sharp it is. “Ah, ok. Well…I guess I’ll see you then.” You back out of the room, almost running when you’re out of his sight. Catching your breath in your room, confusion floods your mind. Did you do something wrong? Is he tired of having you here? All you can do is wait and wonder until tonight.

And tonight comes much too fast. You find yourself stumbling into the theater room, meeting Johnny’s eyes as you walk in. But he seems much happier. Maybe he was just tired after work. As you get settled, a bag of snacks next to your leg. As Johnny starts the movie and turns the lights down, you start to get nervous. What if he’s mad at you? He is pretty rich, if he wants you dead, it wouldn’t take long.

But Johnny sits next to you, settling down and looking towards you. You try not to look at him, fearing that you might meet a cold gaze. Unable to stop yourself though, your eyes meet his. The weird look is still there, no longer hidden under sunglasses and smiles. Ever the considerate movie-watcher, he leans in to whisper in your ear. “So, did you have a good day? It must get lonely here.” Trying to stay calm, you whisper back, “It was ok, I can’t complain. Was your day ok?”

“Yeah, more progress made on my movie. Studios are eating it up. But…” He pauses, looking at the screen shortly before looking back to you. “I did see a very interesting movie on break.” Turning fully, you look at him confusedly. What in the hell was he talking about? “Oh yeah? What was it?”

“Well, you know, I do have cameras set up like everywhere, right?”

Oh shit.

Your entire face drops, frozen in shock. You finally remember the fun you had earlier on the couch. The watched feeling finally makes sense. “O-oh…” You stumble over yourself trying to think of excuses. This is humiliating. But Johnny doesn’t falter like you. He pauses the movie, reaching his hand out and taking yours to pull your focus back to him.

“You put on quite a show for me, you know?” You finally recognize the look in his eyes. It’s intense curiosity and...lust? “Only wish I knew what you were thinking about. Care to enlighten me?” He leans slightly closer, hot breath fanning over you. Swallowing hard, you try to avoid his intense stare. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I was just…bored?” He laughs slightly, holding your other hand. “Really? I was sorta hoping you were thinking of me, but that’s a little selfish, huh?”

“H-huh? What? Do…do you think of me like that?” You fluster further at his words. “Maybe…does that bother you?” He falters slightly, realizing that he might be making you uncomfortable. But you can't stop yourself from blurting out, “No! It doesn't bother me. I-” Cutting you off, Johnny leans in closer, lips an inch apart. “Then what's the problem?” You swallow hard, eyes rapidly moving back and forth from his eyes to his mouth, and finally answer.

“I just don't know what to do when fantasy becomes reality.”

Luckily for you, Johnny knows.

He closes the distance between you two, kissing you like your life depended on it. You wrap your hands behind his neck and lean back, pulling him impossibly closer. Your tongues dance against each other, lips crashing. Suddenly, you get a surge of confidence, one that defies your previous apprehension. One of your hands slips down his chest slowly, inching along until you reach his growing bulge. He pulls back slightly, panting and staring directly into your eyes. “H-hey now, you’re not playing fair,” he manages to get out, slightly whining at your touch. 

“You started it, watching me like that,” you whisper in his ear, fingers slowly rubbing along his waistband. He gasps lightly, head turning away from you. “You liked it, right? Did you touch yourself watching it?” Your fingers move further past his waist, inching towards his cock. “C’mon, you can tell me,” your voice almost sing-songy and teasing. He manages to stutter out a shaky “y-yeah” as you continue down. But you suddenly stop, much to his disappointment.

Instead, you move to kneel in between his legs, looking up at him with sultry eyes. He looks slightly confused until you undo his pants button. Biting his lip, he watches you with intense, pleading eyes. You lean up, taking the zipper of his fly in your mouth and undoing it. He looks like he could honestly cum right now, but you won't let him. As you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs, his cock springs up, the tip angry and weeping. He blushes at the sight of himself like this and you, looking up at him with his hard dick right in front of you.

You slowly wrap your hand around him, stroking him a few times. You just want to watch him squirm and squirm he does. He is whining, head turning back and forth, with one hand on his thigh and the other over his mouth. You kiss the underside, looking up at him through your lashes. With a muffled moan, he looks away again, face scrunching up in concentration and pleasure. Slowly licking at the tip, watching as he continues unraveling, you finally take him in your mouth. You fit as much as you can at first, reveling in the loud gasp you earn from him. You continue a relentless pace, gently massaging his balls as well. 

This pleasure is intense for Johnny, so much so that he’s starting to tear up, eyes welling up as he holds back as many sounds as he can. But that only lasts so long as you lift your head off him, taking a deep breath and rasping out, “Do you wanna come, baby? Huh? Then come on, fuck my face like a good boy.” 

You go further down this time, causing him to jump at the feeling. Scurried hands grab at your head as he's bent forward, bucking at a frenzied pace. Loud, slutty moans roll from his lips as he loses himself in the feeling. And as you kneel there, trying to stay there for as long as possible, you feel yourself growing wetter. You did this to him, got him so riled up that he could barely control himself. Amongst his hurried moves, you manage to push past your gag reflex and fully take his entire cock down your throat. A loud, long breathy moan is all Johnny can get out as he almost immediately cums at the feeling. Focusing on holding your breath until you can no longer feel him pulsing in your throat, you savor his sounds, his whines, whimpers, moans.

As you move up, taking a deep breath, you admire him in the lowlights. His face flushed and sweaty, eyes rolled back in his head, usually perfect hair messed up. Beautiful. But he only stays like that for so long, because you move up to kiss him. As if his body is reacting without him thinking, he wraps one hand behind your back and uses one to tangle in your hair. After a short kiss, he pulls away. You manage to half-whisper “That was quite a show you put on,” chuckling afterward.

Johnny lazily motions for you to sit next to him, and you oblige. But before you’re even fully down, he's on you, kissing and pulling you closer. Now it's his turn to tease, fingers traveling under your shirt to play with your nipples. You let out light gasps at the feeling, as Johnny starts to bite and suck at your neck.

Mumbling against your skin, you can hear him say, “I'll give you a show.” He manages to pull your shirt off before you even realize what's happening, his eyes still desperate and wanting. He has no grace or subtlety as he pulls your pants and underwear off, he doesn't want to wait any longer than he has to. Shrugging his shirt and pants fully off, he stares at you intensely. He moves a finger to swipe across your wetness, knees buckling slightly as he feels you. He leans in against your chest, beginning to beg. “Please, please, I wanna be inside you, love. I wanna give you a real show, show how good I can be. Please?” God, he's kind of pathetic like this. It's hot.

With a quick nod, he springs up. He wastes no time as he practically lifts you and turns you around. Now, with your hands grasping the back of your seat and ass in the air, Johnny leans over you and presses against your back. Kissing between your shoulder blades, he slowly moves his hips to yours, cock gently rubbing against your wet pussy. Unable to control himself, his hips buck at the sensation, earning a groan from both of you. Face still against your back, you feel him lightly bite you, trying to ground himself. 

Finally, he manages to calm himself, standing up and taking a deep breath. After a pause, he lines himself up and pushes in slowly. With a long whine, he manages to bury himself inside you, pausing to adjust. With a strained voice, he quietly says, “Oh god, you feel so good, squeezing against my cock like that. I’m already sensitive, you know.” After a short pause, he starts to move, mesmerized by the way your ass bounces against him. “Shit, I should’ve fucked you earlier. I’ve been missing out,” he manages to get out as he speeds up, reveling in the way you mewl under him.

He’s moving at a breakneck pace now, gripping your hips desperately, and sputtering out praise. Without slowing, his hands shoot out, wrapping around your neck and grabbing your jaw. He’s using your head as leverage, but he manages to fuck you even deeper. He gently turns your head to the back corner of the theater, lightly slapping your cheek to get your attention. “See right there? That’s where the camera is. Go ahead, put on a show, baby.” Despite his confident words, his voice is higher than normal and breathy. His words shoot straight to your dripping pussy, clenching even tighter around him. His hips buck in as he laughs slightly. “You like that? You like being my own personal pornstar? Then come on, let me see it. Get louder, these mics only pick up so much. Don’t hold back, yeah?” 

You decide that he’s getting a little too cocky, and decide to shut him up a bit. Moaning out obscenities, you begin to bounce back against him. His hands shoot back to your hips, using you to stabilize himself. Gone are his confident words, replaced with the most gorgeous whimpers you’ve ever heard. His head dips lower, resting once again against your upper back. You can hear his quiet whispers of “Oh fuck” repeated over and over again like a prayer.

With scrambling fingers that dart under you, he starts to play with your clit, bouncing at the same rhythm of his thrusts. “What fun is it if I’m the only one cumming? Besides…” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I studied the game tape.” He begins moving in circles, and suddenly it’s like you’re fucking him for the 50th time. He knows exactly where and what feels good, what directions, and how much pressure to use. But you have no time to wonder how many times he watched you before his hips started snapping in shaky thrusts. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, and with the energy you have left, you decide to put on a major finale. Head tipped back, you begin pleading with him, crying out, “Please come for me, please, please. You’ve done such a good job, I need it, I need you, please please please…” Unable to hold back, he cums with a harsh final thrust. But even in the throws pleasure, he manages to continue to play with your clit. You cum shortly after him, he whines at the feeling of you spasming around his extremely sensitive cock. He slowly pulls out, taking a long second to admire the sight of you bent over and dripping arousal.

He guides you into the chair, helping you sit down and catch your breath. He sits next to you, snuggling into your side and planting his face against your neck. He breathes deep, inhaling your scent and kissing lightly against your sensitive skin. He manages to mumble into your neck, looking up with sweet, half-lidded eyes, “So...there’s about 56 cameras in the house. You mind sticking around for an extra few weeks?”

[gin-juice-tonic]

Well folks, it's that time again. Yes, time for me to openly question more of the bill book. Specifically this time a single page.

What I said earlier about feeling lonely in my opinions is still true, however I have a terminal case of needing to talk about them anyway. And today this page has been the object of my ire particularly

The Ford's totally drunk page. Some of you might remember this image from earlier when I pointed out that this is completely a depiction of post-portal ford, grey streak and all. However that's not what I want to point out today.

Any guesses what my next complaint might be?

From the text we can discern two things: He cant think straight, and he can't write straight. So why then is it that he can apparently draw straight? The drawing on this page is detailed and pristine, crosshatched and shaded, and complete with it's own clear text of "disco girl" written out.

Could it have been drawn before he got drunk? I doubt it, considering there's a drink right in drawing-ford's hand. Not to mention the "I probably shouldnt be writing this down" text would no longer be relevant, as the drawing would imply he *was* going to write it down. Did he lose sobriety the exact moment he finished the drawing? I can't be pressed believe that either.

Nor do I think it could've been drawn at a later, non drunk time. As I feel if Ford had looked at this writing sober, the first thing he would do is rip it out immediately.

This page is to me a contradiction of itself, and just another one of the columbo-esque little things that bother me.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Homebrew Mechanic: Battles of Attrition

I think we can all agree that there’s something a little wonky with how d&d’s combat system changes between the early and mid/late game. Heroes go from being rightfully cautious about danger to being outright banal about it, confident that their accumulated power will be enough to dispatch all but the most outstanding foes.  The traditional solution is to put them up against stronger enemies but in my experience these mismatched encounters are a failing proposition: combat just gets more swingy and there’s only so many high level threats I can throw at them in a short period of time before it begins to strain credulity.   

While a lot of folks (Especially the OSR crowd) have taken the stance that 5e is broken because of how much it empowers players, I think the real fault lays with the lack of systems that exist to provide challenge outside of anything related to the damage based tug-of-war that is combat.  I think a lot of those systems were part of the non existent “exploration” pillar of the game before Hasbro realized they could make easy money selling the game in its unfinished state and gutted it along with the development team. 

Thankfully, I and other homebrewers are around to do what the megacorporations cant, namely have some original thoughts and try and figure out a way to add challenge back to the game without resenting those playing it for having fun. 

TLDR:  Trying to make our games challenging by upping damage numbers in combat is a losing proposition, in no small part because that part of the game is DESIGNED around the heroes winning. Instead, we up the overall difficulty by making them temporarily weaker with systems like sickness, stress, exhaustion, & item degradation. All of which I have details and guidelines on below the cut. 

First and foremost let me state some of my goals for these “attrition systems”, so we can all be on the same page. Whenever I make homebrew rules I try for something that’s going to require little to no paperwork on behalf of the players and can be seamlessly implemented into my DMing style. It’s not about realism, it’s not about punishing players, this is a way for me to add mechanical depth without bogging down the machine entirely. 

Attrition should be largely non-permanent.  The 5e audience invests a lot in their characters both emotionally and mechanically, so it won’t do to pile on debilitating debuff after debuff to the point of making a character useless. 

There should be an inverse relationship between the severity of the affliction and how long it lasts. Think in term of encounters, days, or weeks, (with the understanding that an attrition that goes on for long enough becomes a questhook in itself) 

The exception to this rule is if someone hits 0 hitpoints. I’m outspoken in my stance that characters should only die when it’s alternatively appropriate, but the dm is at liberty to inflict thematically devastating setbacks in the unlikely event that the party DOES suffer losses in the damage tug of war. 

We want to be sparing with how much attrition we throw at the party at once, so as to not create a “death spiral” where failures compound upon one another and make getting through the adventure impossible. 

In most cases suffering Attrition should be something the party is able to avoid by being fast/lucky/cautious/clever or whatever else the encounter requires. It’s there to add weight and consequence to their actions, and as a factor for DMs to build scenarios around. 

Exhaustion:  Unlike a lot of the other changes made in Oned&d, I actually quite like the overhaul of “each point of exhaustion is a cumulative -1 to all d20 rolls and spell dc, beyond 10 is death” as it allows us to play with exhaustion far more readily as an attrition. 

Every night you don’t rest in a haven (a safe comfortable place)  you need to make a con save or take a point of exhaustion, with the ruggedness of the environment determining the DC. Characters with the survival skill or natural explorer feat don’t have to make this roll. Only rest in a haven removes exhaustion at the rate of one point per night (though spaces like a luxury inn or a peaceful glade watched over by friendly fey may restore more)  

Hitting 0 hp and then being healed gives you a point of exhaustion. Nothing’s going to tire you out like getting magically defibulated so now everyone can stop complaining about healing word spam. 

Poison:  For our purposes, the “poisoned” condition as written  is too severe. Disadvantage on all attacks and ability checks is downright punishing for anything other than a single battle. Instead we’re going to make it work like charmed, where there’s a baseline effect for the purposes of resistance, but the status of each poison is dependant on the source.  

Poison falls in the “ short term big effect” side of attrition, specifically undermining a player’s ability to do most things since most effects end on a successful save or at the end of an encounter. Long lasting poisons should have more minor effects than the default poisoned condition, only applying to a few types of rolls or having a bane-like effect that makes judging the odds just a little bit more difficult.  

This makes poison great to use for dungeons and short-ranging exploration where the party is likely to face multiple encounters in one day. 

Diseases:  4e aced the design of these maladies by treating them as a contained skill challenge with their own CR  with various stages: stage 0: you were cured, stage 1: you suffered the initial effect, stage 2 or 3: you suffered a severe effect, with the final stage (3-4) being some effect that made the disease permanent.  When you got a disease it was usually stage 1, and you (usually) saved for it at the start of each day. Beating the DC by 5 or more meant you went down a stage (closer to 0), where as simply succeeding meant it stayed as bad as it was. Failing meant you got sicker, meaning a character could bounce up and down in wellness as an adventure went on. 

Diseases are best for longterm adventures, and often undermine one particular aspect of a character ( healing, actions assosiated with a particular stat).  Counterpoint to poisons, diseases should start out fairly gentle and then get worse the longer they’re left alone, leading to eventually devastating effects.  

Curses:  While borrowing the mechanics of diseases, I’d have curses be specifically weirder in their effects. The sort of thing that can make up the central hook or b-plot of a whole adventure.  This should also mean that curses are the hardest for the party to stumble into, but also the hardest to shake. 

Item Degradation: Detailed in a previous post HERE, the long and short of it is that item degradation is a form of player driven attrition that gently curbs their overall power level. If they go too hard, use their best items recklessly, get involved in needless fights, then they’re going to be in worse shape by the time they reach the final challenge. This was supposed be the idea behind HP/limited class abilities per day, but attrition systems cover that better IMO. 

Stress:  The psychological counterpoint to exhaustion,  I’ve already talked about Stress HERE. I tend to only use stress in horror themed adventures and campaigns, as it builds upon 5e’s optional “madness” system which fits the theme when gothic terrors and eldritch abominations but less so with the game’s usual heroic fare. 

Hunger & Supply:  I made a super lightweight system based off this idea of “depletion die” for potions and other consumables, check it out, it’s lightweight and fantastic.  Using this kind of system gives us another avenue to challenge our party, lengthening or shortening their lifeline as they lose supplies and seek out new caches. 

Thinking environmentally:  Part of the fantasy of being an adventurer is travelling to dangerous places and living to tell the tale.  We’re denying our party that fantasy if we don’t follow through on the threat the idea of these places imply.  You should risk sickness if you go into a swamp, sewer, or jungle, thirst should be a factor in desert exploration, just like freezing is for mountain and winter expeditions.  That’s to say nothing of magical hazards; cursed landscapes that drain your will to live dead marshes style, alchemical smog in a steampunk industrial zone, fading into nothingness as you approach the edge of existence.  

Figure out the natural hazards, make your party aware of the danger, and then build your adventure around the fact that they’ll need to save against the hazard each time they take a long rest.. Do they take a detour if it means having a safe place to camp? Is there a resource they need to manage along the way? Could encounters expose them to further dangers or make their current exposure worse? Keeping these ideas in mind especially when you’re planning a wilderness exploration adventure should give you lots of ideas to fill up those encounter tables. 

Adding insult to injury:  Giving enemies the ability to inflict attrition in various forms makes otherwise trivial  enemies a credible threat even to a seasoned adventuring party. As an example,  A party might breeze through a fight with some monstrous spiders ( or even ONE regular sized spider, if you can imagine) , but that spider encounter doesn’t need to be the most dangerous thing ever if their next encounter is a navigation challenge fording a river and a few of the heroes are still groggy thanks to the slow acting poison in their systems.  

In this way you can use attrition based battles to soften your party up for greater challenges, long after their HP totals and healing ability have outpaced the damage a single trap/encounter can do. 

Artist

[anakinskywalker-and-theolympians]

The bird song- Luke Castellan x f!reader

Warning(s)/notes: Betrayal, Bittersweet ending, alternating povs, blood, stabbing, manipulation, killing

Summary: Based off the song "The bird song" by Noah Floesch

A/N: Might have a broken wrist? Maybe? Anyways, got the inspo when listening to the song. NOT PROOF READ

She was a bird

I was an arrow

We've been friends for a bit, but gods, she's gorgeous. She's just beautiful. Everything good and pure. Everything I'm not.

Both of us sure we were

A sword and sparrow

We were ment for each other though. I just knew it. Despite how different we are, how good and kind she is and how bad and cruel I am, we were destined to be together. Fates tangled together.

Still when we flew

We never knew

Months with by. The more time I spent with her, the more I felt awful for what I was doing. But despite that, I always loved her. No matter what.

There in the air

I felt her feathers

The time was approaching. I tried to stay with her. To always be there for her. But he made me. He pulled me away and forced me away. Leaving her. Alone. It was for the greater good. It'll all be worth it in the end.

First all at once

Then all together

Control. I was losing control. All of it. As I got corrupted I forgot some of my past. All I remember is... a girl? Doesn't matter though. Only the army and the destruction of the gods matter.

When I went through

That's when I knew

"Prove your alidgence." He commanded.

"How, my lord?" I respond, wondering how I could possibly prove my dedication any more than I have. I see him smirk.

"See this girl? Kill her." He commands, as two guards bring out a girl- her. The girl from my memories. The girl's eyes light up in both fear and something else. "L-Luke..?" She says weakly.

"How do you know my name?" I demand as I stand taller and look down upon her.

"Luke... y-you don't remember me..?" She asks, sadness filling her gaze.

"Even if I did, you have no right to call me by my name." I say sternly as look at her more closely, noticing the scar that ran along her lip. Something about it was familiar.

"Kill her." He demands, handing me Backbitter. I nod and walk towards her, gripping the sword tight. She looked horrified. Her eyes wide, body shaking violently.

"L-Luke please..." She pleaded, trembling as she trys to escape the tight grip of the guards. "Please..." She pleads quietly as I pull my sword back and-

I'm a killer

And a killer is a bad, bad thing to be

-stab.

She let's out a strangled gasp as she stared up at me, tears falling down her face. I retract the blade from her. Another gasp escaped her lips.

"I-I'll always... l-love you L-Luke..." She says softly as her body falls to the ground, blood going everywhere.

She's a giver

And a giver's even worse to folks like me

Then it hit me. All my memories flooding back. I stare at her body of the floor as she struggles to breathe. I fall to my knees and whisper "No... no, no, no.... god no... please..." I say as I grab her dying body and hold it in my arms. "Y/N.... Y/N please... please don't leave me... I cant live without you... I'm so sorry..." I say as I start crying.

'Cause I never really wanna be the one to hurt somebody

But it just keeps happening, yeah it just keeps happening

Her body lay lifeless in my arms. I shake her "Y/N?" Nothing. "Y/N?!" I say again, louder. I yell in anguish as I hold her lifeless corps in my arms, tight to my chest. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

I was a bird

He was an arrow

My best friend. My love. My purpose. Funny how we're only friends and that's how I feel. He's just so perfect. His perfect looking lips and smooth blonde hair. He's perfect. Popular, kind, sweet. Everything I could ever want.

I was allured

By the straight and the narrow

His kindness and love was undeniable. He was all I ever wanted. It's like we were meant for each other. Ying to my Yang. Black to my white. Evil to my Good.

What could I do?

His aim was true

Then he was gone. Without a word. He left and took my heart with him.

Years alone, hoping for his safe return.

After 2 years it seemed hopeless. Until he was there.

"L-Luke...?" I say, my voice wavering.

He glared at me, standing taller and straighter. "How do you know my name?"

My heart hurt at his words. "Luke... y-you don't remember me...?"

"Even if I did, you have no right to call me by my name." He says in a harsh tone as he stares at me, his eyes studying my face. The man behind him orders something and hands him a sword. My body tenses as he approaches me with it. My eyes go wide as u start shaking violently, unable to move.

"L-Luke please..." I plead as my body trembles, struggling against the guards holding me. "Please..." I plead as I look up at him. He retracts the blade and-

Straight to the heart

I let it happen

-stab.

I let out a gasp as he stabs me in the gut. Tears well up in my eyes as I look up at him. He retracts the blade and stares at me.

"I-I'll always... l-love you L-Luke..." I say quietly with a soft smile as I fall to the ground, crimson blood going all over the ground.

I couldn't hardly

Have ever imagined that

He falls to his knees in front of me. "No... no, no, no.... god no... please..." He says as he grabs me and holds me in his arms. "Y/N.... Y/N please... please don't leave me... I cant live without you... I'm so sorry..."

When he went through me

He'd hate what he's doing

Then he cries. I smile up at him and let out a rugged exhale, vision blurring as I lose consciousness.

And make me feel stupid

For choosing him too

Then I was at the entrance of Elysium. Alone. There was a throbbing pain in my chest. In my heart.

'Cause I'm a giver and a giver is a bad, bad thing to be

He's a killer and a killers even worse for folks like me

But I loved him.

But he killed me.

But I'll still love him. I always will. He was my purpose. And I know I was his.

'Cause I never really wanna feel the hurt from anybody

But it just keeps happening, yeah it just keeps happening

But here in Elysium, the moment plays over and over. His crying face as he holds me. I'll never forget that.

Yeah it just keeps happening

Never

Falling

Never to fly again

1 years....

Darling

Together when everything's

2 years....

Fading

The shade of the trees in the dark

3 years....

I'm in

Love with the idea of

"Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it... don't let it happen again..."

Dying

With you in my arms but not

I saw her face. It's been far to long. As I end the awful reign of Kronos I see her. I was finally going to see her.

Like this

We can't really help who we are

To got back and see her.

We can't really help who we are

We can't really help who we are

I wake up at the entrance to Elysium

Damned to the end from the start

We can't really help who we are

A figure appears a few feet away.

We can't really help who we are

We can't really help who we are

"What took you so long?" I hear the familiar sound say.

Damned to the end from the start

We can't really help who we are

The sound of her. Of Y/N.

We can't really help who we are

We can't really help who we are

I run to her and hug her tight.

Damned to the end from the start

We can't really help who we are

"I'm so sorry..."

We can't really help who we are

"It's okay... I forgive you... always and forever...."

[olderthannetfic]

Oh great, everyone is all in on the ~all the kids who think they have DID are wrroooong~ thing.

Im sorry but none of you saying that are helping the community or plural folks as a whole. Even if you are also a system or have a CDD.

For DID *alone* the barrier to diagnosis is very high- arguably as high as Autism and according to one study it takes an average of 10 years in therapy to be diagnosed because so many doctors are ill-informed or refuse to diagnose it/believe it exists despite all the evidence due to the shadow of the satanic panic. The goddamn REASON people are diagnosed in their 30s and 40s isnt because you *need* to wait that long its because they look for horses before zebras and refuse to do anything else most of the time and fuck us over!!! Many of us report symptoms -the same fucking symptoms- since teen&young adult age or earlier!!!

The diagnosis has many of the same drawbacks of any other major diagnosis like autism and schizospec stuff where you can lose custody of children or the ability to adopt, face unofficial discrimination from doctors or employers or people you try to get accommodations from with it, and could even have your drivers license taken away or have to jump through hoops to keep it- and more issues!

Pursuing a paper diagnosis is not for everyone and the plural community for decades has been built on this- even before the exclusion criteria were added to the DSM and ICD that kicked a huge chunk of us of us off even getting one despite being systems (which is a good thing to be clear! If its not impairing or distressing it shouldnt be pathologized!). We have folk therapy and dyi resources and we have a lot of them for a reason.

And thats not even getting into how therapy has historically severely abused our community and how the only accepted treatment path is pursuing the fusion into one person (which has a hilariously low success rate that for anything else wouldnt be accepted as a vaild treatment) and not everyone wants that or is helped by that.

Most of us are never going to be ABLE see useful therapy or a paper dx, so we use the community to find resources and community and it FUCKING WORKS. We built our community with our own blood, sweat, and tears because no one else could or would fucking help us. And it WORKS.

Attacking these people who self-dx ONLY ever causes splash damage on the very people this kind of behavior claims to protect.

And like. If someone reports an autonomous entity that talks in their mind and takes over their body sometimes its... rather obvious they belong in the 'having an autonomous entity that talks in your mind and takes over your body sometimes' community regardless of anything else. NB4 people say psychosis; Schneiderian First-Rank symptoms are actually more indicative of DID than schizophrenia in this manner according to studies- but schizospec people with persistent personlike voices are known to benefit from the same exercises you'd do if they were ''''real'''' alters and are included in the plural community anyway (which btw doesnt require a dx- calling yourself plural or a system is not self diagnosing its an identity label the community created OUTSIDE of diagnosis criteria FOR this very purpose of self-ID).

While yes, we would agree many people say DID For Sure when they might want to hesitate there- we do NOT doubt they are plural. We just wonder if they were told the ONLY way they could be plural/a system is through DID and that is why they are saying they have it. Which... yeah thats not so great. HOWEVER informed self-dx is fine provided they havent been fed that kind of misinformation.

The solution there though is to just spread the real information about the breadth of plural experiences and people will feel less pressured. Simple as that.

Never EVER telling them its really just something else, you dont know yourself- you cant know something that extreme when something that extreme is EASIER to tell tbh because its such a unique and intense experience.

--

[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand; Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Warnings: OOC Simon (kinda?), fluff, alcohol, pregancy, talks of abortion, vomiting,

Summary: Its been 3 months since your night in the sheets with Simon and your life just got a whole lot more complicated.

A/N: I know, I know. okay. I get it. Not everyone like the pregnancy trope, so if you dont im sorry. If i lose some readers for this then im sad to see you go but i hope to see you in future writings i do for the COD men. This is not going to be like other pregnancy tropes that get all mushy and fluffy and light after. This story will be filled with dark themes coming in later chapters that i hope will keep people interseted. We all know Simon Riley's life cant be easy, so if you're still here after this part. Buckle up. Its a wild ride.

Word Count: 5,015

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2

The bar looked exactly the same as it did three months ago. The music wasn't as loud, but that was probably because it was still early. Many people were still at work at 5pm on a Thursday.

Not you, you had found a job working online, writing articles for business pages. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world but it paid well, and it occupied most of your time. An added bonus of not leaving for work was you never had to worry about coming home from the office to find someone on your couch. You shake your head trying to clear the thoughts. You weren't even 100% sure why you were here, the chances that Soap even knew Simon were slim. But he had said he knew almost everyone that came to the bar. 

So there was a chance.

One you couldn't pass up, you had to at least try.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, you walk into the bar. The dim lights reflect off the shiny tables. A few people sit at them, watching a replay of a game on tv. You glance around behind the bar, looking for the familiar mohawk. 

It pops up from behind the bar towards the end, Soap holds a bin of limes in his arms. He sets the bin down on the shiny black countertop, pulling a small cutting board out from the top of the bin and a knife. He slices a lime in half as you slide into the seat in front of him. His blue eyes meet yours and a smile breaks out on his face. 

“Lass! Good to see ya, you disappeared on me the last time ye were here!” He smiles, turning the lime and cutting it again. 

“Sorry about that, I needed to clear my head, I hope I didn't upset you,” you smile back, placing your hands on the bar.

“Nay, what can I get for ye? Vodka Soda?” he asks, setting the knife down as he turns towards the shelves of alcohol behind him.

“Uh, actually, can I just have water instead?” You bite your bottom lip and Soap nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. He slides the glass of water in front of you, and you stare down into it. 

“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at you with one raised eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah, I'm fine. Early day tomorrow ya know? Don't want to be hung over is all.”

“Aye i get that, so what brings you here?” Soap leans his forearms against the bar, “Miss me?” He smiles.

You can't help but roll your eyes, “Oh totally,” you laugh.

“I knew it, not many women can resist the MacTavish charm,” Soap grins, he stands back up and picks up the knife. He cuts each lime into wedges before putting them in the bin, you reach over grabbing one from the cutting board and squeeze it into your water. 

“Aye! Paw off,” Soap smiles, shaking the knife at you. A smile of your own breaks out on your lips as you watch him. 

“You have plenty to spare, plus someone around here has to keep you busy.”

“I assure you Lass, the folk around here keep me plenty busy,” Soap points over your shoulder where Price and Gaz are walking in. They’re deep in a conversation as they make their way over to where you are sitting in front of Soap. 

Kyle is the first to notice you, and he pauses looking at you over. “Y/n, it's good to see you again, not going to lie. I was kinda sad you left without a goodbye last time,” Gaz takes the seat on the left.

“Sorry about that, I promise to say bye this time. I don’t want to bruise your ego,” You say over the rim of your glass. 

“Good, I don't think I can hear him wallow about it anymore,” Price says as he sits in the stool on your right. “So what do you think of London? Everything you could’ve imagined?”

“It’s alright… It rains a lot more than I'm used to, but it's not too bad. Definitely different from the small town I'm from,” you look over at him. He gives you a small smile, and turns towards Soap. 

“Soap, we ship out tomorrow morning, be ready at 0600 hours,” Price grunts as Soap puts the last lime into the bin. 

“Yes sir,” Soap turns towards the bottles of liquor on the shelf and grabs a bottle of bourbon. He sets it down on the counter with a soft thud, he then grabs two glasses for them, pouring each man two fingers. He slides the glasses across the bar to them, the acidic smell of the bourbon makes your stomach turn. Saliva pools in your mouth as you desperately try to swallow. 

“Oh uh, Soap, I wanted to ask if you knew someone actually,” You take a sip of water, your eyes following him as he moves behind the bar. Soaps bright blue eyes look over at you, his brows furrowed together. 

“I might,” he smiles. A loud noise from behind you startles you, and a drunken man tumbles into the back of your stool. His drink spilling down your back as he leans against the back of the barstool, the smell of the alcohol hits your nose. 

“Oops,” the drunken man mumbles, his breath wafting over your face.

Your stomach rolls, as Price and Gaz help the man up. Gaz and Price half drag him away from you as he continues to mumble about his drink. Gaz says something and pats him on the chest as they pull him to the door. You stand from the chair, the fabric of your coat and shirt now sticking to you. Nausea rolls through you as you try to breathe through your mouth. 

“You alright lass? You look a little green,” Soap is now standing in front of you, a clean bar towel in his hands. He gently pats the towel against your soaked shirt and coat trying to soak up some of the liquid that's seeping into your skin. 

You can't answer, if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll throw up so you push past Soap and hurry towards the bathroom. Soap follows behind you, pausing at the door to the women's room. You shove open one of the stall doors and drop to your knees. The cold tiles bite through the fabric of your jeans, as the contents of your stomach is emptied into the porcelain bowl. It takes you several minutes to stop dry heaving, your stomach clenching painfully with each contraction of your abs. When the feeling settles you stand, before rinsing your mouth out with some water from the tap. You grab a paper towel, wiping your hands and mouth.

“You alright in there?” Soap calls through the door, his voice laced with concern. 

“Yeah..” you call back, tossing the paper towel into the bin and pulling open the door, “Sorry about that.” You shove your hands into your pockets as you come face to face with Soap. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he looks over you, one hand hovers in the air as if hes going back and forth on if he should touch you or not.

“You su-” he pauses looking over your shoulder, his eyes widened slightly.

“MacTavish, the bar can't run itself…” A familiar voice rumbles, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Memories of your night 3 months ago rushes back, that same voice that murmured praise to you as he pounded into you. 

You whip around, at the end of the hall stands Simon, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, his mouth and nose covered by a skull print face mask. His brown eyes widen slightly as he sees you. “Y/n…” he whispers. 

“You two know each other?” Soap muses from behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulder as he walks by. An uncomfortable silence settles over the hallway and Soap slips by, muttering “I’ll leave you two alone…” 

Simon takes a few steps towards you, and it seems like he takes up the whole hallway. You look up as he towers over you, his face is unreadable, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips across your cheek. It sends electricity skittering across your skin, your breath catches in your throat.

Over the past 3 months you have tried to forget about the man whose brown eyes haunted your dreams. Whose touch caused your mind to go blank. Like someone wiping a harddrive. But there was no forgetting, not anymore. He was here in front of you, sure, you had come to ask Soap if he knew him. But you hadn't expected to run into him tonight. You still had no idea what you were going to say to him. How do you justify just leaving his house at 3am?

“You could've said goodbye, you know… You didn't have to sneak out and call an Uber at 3am..” Simon whispers, and guilt slams into you. He knew you left. He wasn't asleep like you thought…

“I-I..” you stumble over your words, unsure what to say. There wasn't anything you could say really. You knew you should’ve just waited, dealt with the awkward small talk. Maybe even exchange numbers you would never plan on using. But nope.

Instead you fled. Just like you fled after your sister's funeral.

At least you were consistent. 

“I’m not upset, I understand.” Simon adds after a moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his hoodie. 

“Simon.. I.. I’m sorry.. I’ve been going through a lot. And i didnt .. I couldn't face you after that. Not, not that you did anything wrong. Because you didn't! I mean you were great. I just,” You run a hand through your hair. “God, this is not how I wanted this to go.” 

“Breathe. Love, breathe.” Simons hands cup your face and you freeze. “It’s okay, like I said I'm not upset with you,” he lets his hands drop, and you nod. 

“I didn't know you knew Soap,” He muses, leaning against the wall. You shuffle your feet, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… I met him the same night I met you… You know him too, yeah?” 

“Soap, Gaz, Price and I all serve together,” Simon rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I don't know how I didn't pick up that you were military,” You bite your lip looking down at his black boots. 

“We didn't exactly get to know each other very much that night..” Simon says, and a small blush creeps up your cheeks at the mention of your night together. “So what brings you here tonight?” Simon asks.

The familiar feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach again, you clench your fists, nails biting into your palm. Something you have come to do a lot over the past few months. “I came here to ask about you, actually. I needed to talk to you..” You whisper, and Simon's brows furrow.

“Well you found me.. What did you need to talk about?” He asks, as you chew your bottom lip. Anxiety creeps into your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs like an icy hand. The air rushes from your lungs, your eyes burning with tears.

 How the hell could you turn this man's life upside down?

“Hey, hey,” Simon whispers, his large hands clasp your shoulders steadying you. The world feels a million miles away, like you were floating out in space untethered. Everything sounds muffled, and the lights are suddenly too bright in the hallway. You raise your shaky hands, running them through your hair. A large hand guides you down the hall a little until the bitter cold air of winter in London hits you. You gasp, your lungs filling with the cold air, goosebumps break out along your heated skin. 

The world slowly comes back into focus, soft murmuring in your ear as large arms wrap around your middle holding you against a solid chest. “Breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay… Just breathe, Love.” Simon murmurs into your ear. Tears fall from your eyes, trails of hot tears stream down your cold cheeks. 

“I’m sorry I left that night…” you gasp in between sobs, “and i am so sorry im going to say this…” You whisper the last part. At first you aren't sure Simon heard you but after a moment he turns you around. His arms are still around you as he looks down at you, your teeth starting to chatter from emotion and the wind.

“Whatever you have to say can't be that bad, love. Did you find out you had some like STI or something? Do I need to get tested?” He asks, his brown eyes searching your tear stained face. His hands moving up and down your body in an attempt to warm you up and comfort you at the same time.

You shake your head, if only an STI was the least of your problems. “N-no, i didn't give you anything like that…” you choke out.

Simon watches you as you stand face to face with him in the same alley you met him in 3 months ago. Although this time you’re different, instead of the woman who was caught in her own head. Who was running from demons he couldn't see, trying her best to show the world it couldn't break her. Instead standing in front of him was a woman who was scared, who looked so lost in the world, like she was barely hanging on. He studies you, even as you stand in front of him crying, your entire body shaking. You were still beautiful, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think about you. 

You had haunted him every moment since he heard you leave the apartment. When he heard the door click shut it took everything in him not to follow you out. But he didn’t, he laid there staring up at the ceiling until almost 5, before he got up and started making himself some tea. It was then he noticed the note you left your swirling handwriting on the scarp paper wishing him well. He was saddened to see you hadn’t left a way to contact you, but part of him understood. He had offered you a chance to get out of your head for a while. He hadn’t asked you on a date. He DIDN'T date. 

The onslaught of disappointment was tough for him to swallow. Simon was never upset when a woman he brought to bed left with no goodbye, and a hasty note. Simon preferred it that way, it was better if the one night stands didn’t stick around but for some reason Simon couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how your curves felt beneath his palms. The silky smooth expanse of your skin. The way your moans stirred something deep in him, or the way your eyes told him more than you ever would. 

Now as he looked down at you, standing in the darkened alley way. He knew whatever you wanted to say was about to bring his world crashing down. But instead of the overwhelming feeling to flee, that he normally had when confronting emotional issues like this. Simon wanted to hold you close and tell you that it was okay, that whatever it was you could face it and make it out the other side. During his years of doing interrogations and studying people he had learnt the signs of when someone was teetering on the edge. It was clear in your face and body language that you were one gentle gust of wind from toppling over. Crumbling into pieces he wasn’t sure anyone could put back together.

“What is it then Sweetheart? I’ll help you figure it out, whatever it is.” He whispers, pulling you closer to him, his body heat seeping into you, as the wind blows. You sniffle, your shaking hands coming up to swipe at the tears under your eyes. You take one last breath, eyes closed as you brace yourself.

“I’m pregnant.” 

It’s like the world stopped spinning.

Time was suddenly suspended, as you pried your eyes open to look at Simon. His brown eyes were guarded. His brows pulled together, as his hands stopped their motions for a fraction of a second. Your lungs burned from holding your breath, your throat tight. Every muscle in your body was tense, as you waited for him to say something. Do something. You needed some sort of reaction from him. Yelling, screaming, swearing, anything was better than the earth shattering silence that took place after you muttered the two words you hadn’t yet said out loud since you found out.

It wasn’t like you planned on getting pregnant by your one night stand. Hell. It was the LAST thing you wanted. You were always careful to get your birth control shot every 3 months. But with the chaos of the last few months, somewhere along the line you must’ve missed your last appointment. It wasn’t until you went into your appointment earlier today to get a shot that they had informed you they couldn’t administer it. That you were already pregnant.

“Okay.”

The word shocks you, and for a moment you aren’t sure you hear him right. You raise an eyebrow, as you look at Simon.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Simon states, his hands resuming their soothing motion up and down your sides.

“You’re not.. not going to freak out?” You whisper.

“There’s nothing to freak out about, this isn’t just going to go away. So we need to talk about our options, and we will. Just got standing in the back alley of a pub.”

“Okay…” you whisper, as Simon’s hands guide you towards the emergency exit door that he brought you through. The inside of the bar is louder than before, more people have shown up. Soap, Gaz and Price are all talking at the end of the bar. Your glass of water is filled and sitting on a napkin. They all look over when you two walk over.

“Ghost, Soap was just telling me that you and y/n know each other. Small world isn’t it?” Gaz smiles, his brown eyes looking between us. 

“We do,” Simon turns to Price, “I’m going to be bringing her home, I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow, Captain.” 

There’s a look that passes between Price and Simon, but he just nods, then turns towards you. “I hope to see you again, dear, maybe next time we can all have a nice meal.” 

“Maybe,” you smile, after waving goodbye to Soap and Gaz, Simon leads you out to the street where the cars are parked. 

“Did you drive here?” He asks, looking down at you.

“No I took the bus,” you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. It was still wet from where the guy spilt his drink, and you shivered.

“I’ll drive you home,” Simon takes your hand, pulling you towards his truck. He pulls open the passenger door and waits for you to get settled in the seat before shutting it. You run your hands together as Simon climbs into the driver's seat. He starts the truck, turning the heat on high.

“Where do you live?” He asks, as he turns on the headlights. 

“On Ashton street, the apartment complex there” from the corner of your eye you see Simon visibly stiffened, but he doesn’t say anything as he pulls away from the curb. The ride is mainly quiet, neither one of you having much to say. As you get closer to your apartment your anxiety starts to grow again. What if he tells you to get rid of it? 

Is that what you wanted? What if he decided he would rather give it up for adoption? Would he help you find a family? Maybe he would tell you he didn’t want anything to do with a baby? Could you deal with a baby? Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you try to swallow it back down. You weren’t about to throw up all over his nice truck. The grimy bathroom of a bar was one thing, but Simon’s leather interior of his car was not an option. Simon turns down a side street, there weren’t many streetlights on this stretch of the drive. You try to focus on the passing shadows but the rolling and twisting in you hug doesn’t let up.

“Can you pull over please?” You whisper, and Simon glances at you. Your hands bunched in the fabric of your coat, your eyes closed as you take deep breaths. Simon eases the car over, barely putting the car in park before you flung the door open and hop out. You move a few feet into the woods, your hands scraping against the tough bark of a tree, as you get sick. Bile burns your throat and nose, tears stream down your cheeks. 

Warm hands gather the hair from your face and hold it back. Holding your hair back with one hand the other rubs up and down your back. It takes several minutes of dry heaving for you to be able to stand up. A handkerchief is suddenly floating in front of you. You take it and wipe your mouth with it, shoving it into your pocket after.

“You okay?” Simon asks, as you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry..” you mumble, as you turn back to the car and climb back in. Simon doesn’t say anything as he climbs in and continues to drive to your apartment. As he parks his car, he glances around, his eyes resting on the boarded up windows of the glass door.

“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing as he stares at the glass like he’s trying to get it to tell him what happened to it.

“Yeah. Sorry, let’s go inside,” he mumbles, climbing out and coming to your side. He pulls open your door and offers you a hand. You walk towards the building Simon’s entire body is tense as some residents barrel out of the door. They’re shouting and swearing as they stumble out, a lit cigarette dangling from their fingers. Simon pushes you behind him, as they pass, he watches as they head over to a parked car and continue arguing in front of it.

“They’ll stop arguing after a while. They do this often..” you mutter to Simon as you take his hand pulling him towards the door. He grunts and follows you up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. You hesitate, your hand on the knob as you take a deep breath. Entering was always the hardest part now, every time your hand touches the handle the images of your family break through the mental box you shoved them into. You let out the breath you were holding and pushed open the door. Flicking on the light switch next to the door. 

Your eyes falling on the empty couch against the far wall in the living room. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders as you stare at the threadbare fabric. You step further into the apartment allowing Simon to slip in behind you. He turns the locks on the door, and reaches down unlacing his boots. 

“I don't have much to offer.. Is water okay?” You ask as you shrug off your alcohol stained coat. The fabric is a sticky mess, the fabric ruined from the drink spilt on it at the bar. Tossing it onto the counter, you head over to the cabinet and take down two glasses. 

“Water is okay,”  Simon walks into your living room and takes a seat. He watches you fill the two glasses with water and you come and sit on the other side of the couch, handing him the glass. 

“When did you find out?” Simons asks, taking his face mask off and shoving it into his pocket and taking a sip of water. 

“This afternoon… I went in to get my birth control shot and they make you do a pregnancy test…” You pull your legs up to your chest, holding the glass of water in one hand. The other hand wraps around your shins keeping them pulled up to your chest.

“Did they tell you how far along you are?” He asks, “So we know what our options are, I mean.” 

“They said based on the blood work, 12 weeks. But I have to go in to get an ultrasound next week..” 

“Okay, so we don't have a lot of time to make a choice… have you thought about what you want to do?” Simon sets his glass down on the table next to the couch.

“I .. I don't know.. I was waiting to hear what you had to say before I made up my mind.” You mumble, your eyes trained on a spot of carpet that is fraying.

“If I'm being honest, I never wanted kids. They were never in my cards… I'm not saying I don't like them, kids are great, I just never pictured myself having any,,” he admits.

Your heart sinks.

Here we go, he's going to tell you to get rid of it, and tell you to delete his number, forget he exists and move on with your life. 

“But, with you, it feels right.. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head and at the risk of sounding like a total barbarian. The thought of having you in my life until I die because of this baby fills me with excitement. I wanted to go after you when you snuck out of my apartment but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. The night I spent with you was one of the best nights I've ever had. So if you would like to, I would love the chance to raise this baby with you. Even if it's as friends and nothing more. Because I know that you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm going to take any chance I can get to keep you around,” Simon finishes, his hand coming to rest on your ankle. 

You sit there for a few moments, mind reeling with everything he just said to you. He wanted to raise a baby with you? Just so he could get to know you? Did you really have that much of a profound effect on him? Would he still feel the same when he found out what had happened to you? Could you do this? I mean really do this?

Babies are huge commitments. They were for life; there was no backing out. But the way Simon was looking at you, like he would take on the world for you with barely knowing you. It made you feel like you could do it. As long as you didn't have to do it alone, well, at least not completely. You chew on your bottom lip for a few more minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head as Simon's eyes trail around your apartment. 

“Okay…” you finally whisper and Simon's head whips towards you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I-i don't think i can get rid of it anyway… The thought makes me feel sick,” you confess and the tension in Simon's shoulders all but disappears. 

“Alright, we can figure this out. No pressure for us to be together, we can just start by becoming friends, and seeing where things go okay?” He smiles, and its a real genuine smile. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you can't help your own smile that spreads across your lips. 

“If we’re being honest here,” you sigh, wringing your hands together in your lap,”I couldn't stop thinking about you either… I mean, even before all… yeah.. You know.”

Simon's hand comes over to rest on the side of your face, and he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts,” he chuckles.

Simon drops his hand and looks around your place once more, a furrow deep in his brow. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, before he notices the time on the clock hanging on your wall. It was almost 10 and he needed to check over his gear before he shipped out in the morning. 

“I hate to do this… but I have to go,” his lips pulled down into a thin straight line.

“Oh right.. You told Price you would see him in the morning…”

“Yeah… Look, i can't tell you much, but i don't know how long i’ll be gone…” he looks around, and grabs the notebook you write your ideas for articles down in and scribbles on a spare piece. “This is my number, i won't promise i’ll respond while i'm away, but if anything happens, call this number 3 times in a row and you’ll get through to someone who can get a message to me okay? But that is only for emergencies, otherwise just text me and i’ll do my best to get back to you, alright?” He tears the paper out, coming to stand in front of you. He presses the paper into your hand. It crumples slightly as you close your hand around it.

“Okay,” you murmur, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. His fingers crush along your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair back from your face. 

“Be safe, keep the door locked… i’ll be back soon and we’ll go do something fun and get to know each other.” Simon smiles, as he takes a few steps backwards towards the door. 

“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, “Be safe out there.”

The only response is the soft click of the door.

Next: Part 4

[alelathedragon]

Mr.Puzzles Ramble part 4009488383839393848

I added links to my other rambles if yo interested but all in all.....

Chat

GET EM

[1]

[2]

[3]

I wanna talk about 2 episodes in particular for this ramble:

Mario loses his moustache & Mr.Puzzles lowest point

It is my humble opinion that this dude still does NOT know what the fuck a MEME is- cus look at his actions in each episode. In the first one he studies Mario intensely because this is the one who has been ruining his plans the most with his bullshit and FUNNY.

Mr.Puzzles is after the power of being funny but still finds memes disgusting/horrible, when he makes Pedro his intensions are to film the creature hoping to steal SMG4's fame in a SMG3 LIKE manor, instead of stealing the videos hes just stealing assets of an actor. Yes; he does say MEME OFF but im convinced this man has no fucking clue what he's talking about and thats made more apparent in the next episode where he's going through content creator depression.

When the children turn on their Brainrot Skibbity Toilet he rightfully finds it to be the most insulting thing to ever grace his face and wants it gone, but then he realizes; hey wait a minute ... If I do this, I can traffic people to follow me, make money, make the content I love and BAM!! I'll be popular!!!

However.... He gets in his own way, when the "fame" of a billion children liking his youtube channel hits, it gets to his head immediately and he gets distracted from what he really wanted to do! He doesn't wanna make this shit, he wants to make his art!!! He doesn't understand WTF he's made other than an abomination

Like this man is genuinely confused as to why people have not gone from his shitty youtube channel over to his REAL content on the TV bc he forgot the part where he's supposed to stop the youtube and make stuff he likes again. Too 1 track minded

Even to the SMG4 crew its not funny bc it is NOT a meme! Mr.Puzzles doesn't know how to do that.

He came into the convention wanting to talk about his interests, inspirations, how he wrote his screen plays... Alas the crowd was children who didn't give a flying fuck about his craft and this pissed him off. Like: WHAT DO U MEAN U DIDNT LOOK AT MY TV SHOWS AND ONLY WATCH THIS STUFF IM NOT PROUD OF!?!?

& funnily enough

That leads into another point where this guy gives up so fast on things. Like in the cannon he SAYS he's given up on TV but that's a lie, he's going to keep doing entertainment.

What I mean by him giving up easily is:

He is a pathetic little meow meow folks. Hes one of those villains that THRIVES off a evil plan but when he's caught. He puts up his hands and runs, or throws things at his enemies.

Like in WOTF, in the song all boyo does: is throw shit because he DOES NOT know how to defend himself bro lololol. He has the power of his imagination but this isnt his head or his rules so he cant just- imagine a kung fu master as himself and fight back: his natural defences are to

Run/ Hide/ Throw things/ Bat things away/ Retract/ Panic

So when a plan fails. That plan is practically gone until he can think of a new way to use it

Like i doubt we're going to see Mario losing his moustache for a long time, i think we're going to see it again!!! But not soon. Mr.Puzzles needs time to cook that thought in the back of his mind of if it's even worth trying again or not.

He coulda given up on that thought all together but we wont know til we see!!

And he gave up on the youtube too! Because he was disappointed in himself and bro really just; could not bear to use that money anymore. He looked at that cash and could only relate it to his cringe youtube channel that he didnt want to associate with anymore. The original plan to use the money to make the content he wants: ⚰️

"I can't just use the money to make the content i want now! Im ruined! They just see me as a kids play toy now and this cash is NOTHING!!"

He forgot the plan, thus it got ruined by his own hand, and sense it was no longer completable in the way he originally intended it to go- it was impossible to complete.

He's so silly. I love him so much

[ludinusdaleth]

this is something ive had brewing in my mind for a while, but now that this aeor arc seems concluded, im really thinking on ludinus & other calamity survivors, and the idea of no perfect victim & moving forward.

ludinus & leylas are about the same age, have lived the same years. when we meet leylas, she is sending her soldiers to war in large part because she has seen the cycles of exandria unfold so consistently she cannot imagine peace until she defeats her enemy (quana still prays for it, and unity among everyone. but she holds her tongue). ludinus, on the opposite side of the mountains, knows the cycles too. and he thinks he must wage them to break them. leylas worships the luxon to free herself from the gods. ludinus despises the luxon for being seen as a god at all, that leylas as a survivor would dare worship it. both see the exact same thing but in opposite ways. but leylas gives a small smile of surprise when the m9 stop the war of ash & light. she is surprised, but happy to be wrong, in this one moment; her faith in these non dynasty folk paid off. all ludinus, one who hates cycles seeing a cycle caught short, sees, is a loss at taking more beacons, at destroying the "religious drivel" of the luxons religion. at least he can get to work on the big picture, the cycle he actually cares about, over any he enforces.

devexian & alyxian awaken the same year, devexian by the m9, in the ruins of his (and ludinus's) home. he can only laugh dryly at its fate, say it is a cruel joke of history. he picks up the pieces, tries to bring his people back to life. he wants them to start anew. he wants them to let go. if ludinus cant escape the day the city fell then it seems devexian wants nothing more than to leave it for tomorrow. alyxian has been caught in the hell of being a demigod of divinity & ruidis left to rot in half death. (depending on your netherdeep ending) he awakens to a new dawn, suddenly ancient & old in body, but.... free. freed by your party. he was torn asunder by avandra/correlon/sehanine & predathos within him, their powers festering in him as gruumsh destroyed him - and still he tries to be kind, and have faith, even if he is not the warrior he was, even if everything he ever knew was destroyed. he can see society flourish again, even after his & gruumsh's battle destroyed half of marquet. ludinus has seen society rebuild its entire course of time - and all he sees is a world never as brilliant as what it was before.

all of these calamity survivors are completely fucked. leylas is paranoid, losing her mind from living too long, and still haunted by lolth. quana is resigned to stay at her lovers side even as madness takes her when all she wants is unity with others. devexian is clearly so unwilling to face history repeating he wont tell other aeormatons their heritage. alyxian is broken & battered after an eon of nonstop torture.

but they had help from others, from kind souls, who reached a hand out. and they took that kindness and internalized it. and they have vowed to help their people any way they can. to spread that glimmer of hope. to rebuild.

ludinus hasnt. and i think there is deep tragedy in that. i dont know if he has much hope, ironically, beyond raging cleansing fire. in that broad big picture it is both incredibly real & also heartbreaking when recovery falls through the cracks so badly. to have so little of a support group of survivors around you that you smack the hand of those who came out of it differently, and not have known others who could show you it was okay to move on. you hurt other survivors in your refusal to breathe, and live too large to see the others choosing a small destiny. it is unfair to him to had to have suffered and unfair to inflict that on calamity survivors again for your own agenda.

i fixate on him not disagreeing with the bells finding a third option. deep down, he wants to have that hope the others share so fucking bad. we'll see if he ever finds it.

[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Dancing with the pirate boys~🕺💃

I simply think we should dance! Dancing is fun!💕

This pirate au is by @mega-punani and these are just my non-canon headcanons <3 check out their page for more! (she's currently not updating this au but her page is a lovely visit!)

Sans Sooo you know those dances where one person does very little dancing and the other person is pretty much dancing around them, pulling them in? He'd offer one of those dances as a 'haha gotcha now I don't have to do much' kinda thing, but little did he know how you'd turn the tables on him! Oh the shameless flirting as you danced your little heart out! Your fleeting touches as you flutter around him, the looks you give him, the proximity as you pull him close, face to face, only to then pull away for another wide twirl~ He's at the centre of the stage and he cant leave, since he promised you he would do this for you. But oh this man is flustered. He is bright blue. And he simply cannot move his eyes off you. Even years later you can still easily tease him by seductively asking him to dance. He'll get bright blue and flustered again immediately even after your little wink ;) Ah man, you got him good. (The crew definitely teases him about it alllll the time. He just hehehs some more.)

Papyrus Yes yes yes he would love to dance!! Papyrus loves folk dances, ballroom dances, silly dances, tangos, just- anything!! Please ask him to dance! And don't be surprised if he asks you to dance either! He loves the joy of dancing in a group and seeing how invested and/or exited everyone is. Depending on how he's feeling, he can be either 1: a little stiff due to being nervous (maybe dancing in the crow's nest with waves like these wasn't your best idea...), 2: lose and carefree and a bit over enthusiastic (an absolutely joyous occasion or some alcohol may do this) or 3: comfortable, confident and super romantic (and pretty dang good!). He truly sweeps you off your feet in an awesome way! Definitely the type to be chatty during a dance too so he'll absolutely flirt with you while holding you in a dip.

Blue Folk dances hell yeah!!!! He knows a ton of them, is really good at them and is very enthusiastic! You'll have a lovely time with him and the gang, and he somehow knows how to make you feel special dancing with him even though you are also dancing with a ton of others. Maybe it's the way he looks at you? The time after the dance is well spent too: you are warm and tired and he is telling you stories about the dances' origins and the places he's learned them. If you dance for long enough you might actually get a very rare chance to nap with him: two tired and content smiling nerds snoozing on the couch. Slick and strict dances aren't his thing though. He loves the way they look and how romantic they are, but doesn't have the patience to learn and perform them well. He'll sweep you off your feet in a different way!

Stretch Listen honey. He doesn't dance. He plays the music. Important distinction. You can, however, convince him to try when you two are separated from the rest of the crew. You’ll be in a bustling town and evening is falling, and a band softly plays music for a buzzing cafe with terrace. And you may convince him to let you put your hand on his shoulder, to put his hand on your side, to put his left foot here, and his right foot there, then take a step there… and he'll be sweating the entire time, holding his breath until you tell him to breathe, darling. And he'll be stunned at how close you are. And he won't notice that you're dancing so sweetly until the song is over and you ask if you could do that again sometime. And he responds with a soft and flustered "yes" and watches you meld into the crowd to collect some drinks for you both. And he reasons that Yes, he truly might do that again…

Red "Heheh you can give me a lapda-" "No. >:/"

I think it would be difficult to actually get him to properly dance with you. He might entertain you for half a song but then he'll start trying to convince you to leave the dance floor with him. Its just not really his thing, and on top of that he's actually kind of embarrassed about looking like a fool unless inebriated. If you are out dancing he'll definitely brag to everyone and their parents that you're his pretty partner though! In fact, he might start taking you out to dance when the ship is docked just to show you off (and to make sure you have a good time of course). He'll request whatever music you need from the sidelines and watch you go at it. Man he has it good~

Edge You can convince him to take classes with you and hell take them super seriously, but he may have been too self-conscious/busy to start on his own. Learning to dance wasn't really a priority back on his home island and he might care if the others make fun of him for it, especially given his perfectionism. If he can use your request as an excuse to do it though... that'll probably do the trick! He actually really enjoys it: it's structured and beautiful and he can choose to either be in the spotlight with you or in a group where he doesn't stand out. He gets good really really fast too, so unless you are already quite good at it he'll be teaching you soon enough. It's truly a lot of fun and you actually see him smile a lot doing this. Truly a massive win.

Black An absolute show off. He knows how to ballroom dance but would never tell anyone even if asked. Except for you it seems! He puts you two in matching outfits, asks for a dance, and then shows off the fact that he has mad skills for dances like this. If he really wants to show off he might even create a spotlight out of sun or moonlight on the both of you. And to top it all off, he makes you feel absolutely special throughout the whole thing! …You can absolutely use this closeness to fluster him though. He can't escape your flirts while holding you this close >:3c He won't really join in on sillier dances or folk-dances unless challenged to, but his footwork and discipline are amazing so he likely will excel at any structured dance if he's been able to observe it well enough (to everyone's excitement and surprise). Any freestyling he will fail at though.

Cash On the surface he's making it seem far too easy to get him to dance with you. He makes it seem like he's out to get close and steal your stuff while he's there (as if he needs the proximity), but it's mostly a facade to hide how nervous this makes him. Like, genuinely dancing together? That's… vulnerable. Like Stretch, the crew can't be near at all, and honestly even strangers like a band are too much. You can gently persuade him to dance to the tune of a music box or radio you brought. You know you've made a genuine connection when he DOESN'T show you he stole something afterwards, even though he did it right at the start to have an easy way out of the situation. No one wants to dance with a thief, right? He puts it back in your pocket the next morning, and seems much more mellow the following days.

Bear He has a strict 'no partying in the kitchen' rule for obvious reasons, but if you are often hiding in the kitchen for some quiet time and tend to play soft music he might sway subconsciously to it, and if he has some downtime during the cooking process you might be able to persuade him to gently sway with you for a little bit, creating a lovely big blush on his face. Do a little pirouette in his arms and his day is all better. Other than this he doesn't really dance when the occasion arises, but you will find that he is completely focused on you as you dance either a silly little swing or some beautiful dance. He has no jealousy at all seeing you dance with others, mainly because his focus is entirely on you <3

Cinnamon Although complicated choreographed dances are difficult due to his eyesight and general clumsiness, simple slow couples dance can be done just fine! Simply swaying with him will have him comfortable and a little flustered. He would love to enthusiastically dance too but he's worried about hurting you and possibly falling on his face and embarrassing himself. When you do end up slow dancing he often needs to hold himself back from squealing at how cute you are this close, and he needs to resist the urge to suddenly spin you in circles and hug you so close because aaaa cuteness aggression! If you give him express permission to show it you'll end up having a very good time giggling with him, it's super sweet :) Also I am convinced this man can tap dance (or at least is trying to learn to) so if you can convince him to show you his skills you can have a lot of fun together!

[earlymorningfoxhunt]

Hello, we're a system/collective who started listening to Malevolent on June 7th, 2024, and boy did it hit close to home! not only because of the jarthur body sharing blues, but also johns individual experience with his identity made us feel seen in a way we haven't felt before.

the way john has to figure out what differentiates himself from both arthur and hastur, despite feeling trapped behind arthurs eyes and chained to hastur heart, aligns with our experiences... a lot. so we've been making a compilation for the past month that includes all of the moments that made us go OOORRG as well as different folks commentaries (mostly consisting of us going OOORRG). this is going to be long as shit because this entire show is this.

also if your a system/collective who likes malevolent: PLEASE put ur favorite moments/ur thoughts

and if you haven't listened to malevolent: hey, you should give it a try and then come cry to me about it :D

A Compilation Of Malevolent Moments That Hit Differently As A System:

The Caves: (34:59-35:20)

during their argument john laughs while arthur trips over things

hehehe ya

The Path: (43:06-44:05)

johns questioning if he's feeding off of arthurs emotions or if hes learning them for himself, new split type beat, trying to figure out where each other start and end.

"we are of two minds, and more and more im realizing two souls as well. there's a bleed over effect but you are something entirely your own, john."

The Fall:

oh my god this episode. this man got so fucking pissed, not at john for rubbing the death of arthurs child in his face, but at arthur pulling host rank???? i was like ya buddy you can rot in a pit for a few months, mf you cant do that!! we we're listening to this at work and we were so pissed

The King: (35:00-36:25)(45:18-48:57)

its the first time arthur talks for him and its the first time he feels johns tears.

arthurs confrontation with the king and the feeling of no matter how much you hate each other, you're going to have each others back. for us personally it feels like a sucker punch to the gut every time he says "because i cant lose another person!"

The Unconquerable:

when we wrote down the title we didnt know why the episode resonated with us, but now I come back to it a month later as a yellow introject. we have horrid memory issues on top of memory issues, so it hurts something familiar to see the state yellow is in when he gets thrown into arthur. not knowing who or where he is but still trying to hold the cards, arthurs disappointment that hes not who he wanted him to be. its a new kind of painful. its the odd solace that comes from a shattered mirror.

we see arthurs frustration but its almost nice to be able to hate him for not giving yellow more grace.

The Train: (4:19-8:10)

I have literally told this guy he looks 80lbs sopping wet before, this entire episode is perfect. the bickering, the team work, the having to navigate socializing, it feels so nice

The Tear: (12:14-22:48)

ya...

The Detective: [(3:50-7:05) (10:40-14:58)] (28:09-28:18)

we made the mistake of listening to this on the way to getting tacos and we just had to sit in the parking lot, crying as john got to be seen for the first time by an ally. I've never had the experience myself(others in our system are out tho) but seeing it go well for him sparked something in me, enough that it pulled us to front for the past few weeks. that, w. it was a very important moment to us

and on a completely different vibe, "have you ever... before?" fuckin "well with out my excellent call outs" silly guy

The Order II: (23:26-24:00)

huh? oh hes not talking to us

The Witch: [(16:11-17:24) (25:30-26:56) (29:00-33:17)]

the whole episode honestly, start to finish.

no, im not including the ending speech it makes me physically ill

WITCH: This woman cared for you?

JOHN: Yes. 

WITCH: Lies! She cared for your mortal!

JOHN: He couldn’t hear her! I was the one who received her care, her kindness, her –

WITCH: Intended for another!

JOHN: What does that matter!? She knew no difference between me or him! She knew nothing of the soul that heard her, whether it was… (He sighs in frustration.) It was the same care. The same… compassion. 

UUUUUUUUUGGGGG

Honorary Mentions:

all of johns memory issues in season 4:

how every time he came back he would be defensive saying "right, i knew that!" even when he didn't remember, that's a classic.

Intermezzo: (5:00-5:46)

kayne and his many many voices/me not me/ its not about the names were given its about the names we choose

every time jarthur says we/our

The King:

"well at least thats what the loudest voice in my head says" ya? and how many voices are in there?

[sarahmackattack]

Hi Sarah!

I have a cephalopod question: do ceph’s ever lose their suckers, and if so are they able to grow new ones?

And a SciComm question: do you have any advice for someone who wants to grow their career in SciComm? It’s my dream career but it seems like opportunities are few and far between.

Is it “better” to pursue a degree in a specific science, or to focus more on the education/teaching side of things?

(although a huge shoutout to you and the other SciComm folks sharing your passions! I did manage to get a part-time internship and job at my local zoo in their education department, and I only had the courage to pursue those opportunities thanks to people like you! Didn’t think I’d get this far, and now I can’t wait to take it even farther; I’ve just got to figure out how to get there first!)

Do ceph’s ever lose their suckers, and if so are they able to grow new ones? I'm sure they do! The regeneration of some species has been studied but not all of them so there's likely some species that are a little better at it than others (for example, it's probably something a predator that attacks very strong fast animals needs than an animal that primarily eats bivalves).

Do you have any advice for someone who wants to grow their career in SciComm? The trouble with this is that my job is very very weird, and doesn't exist in the kind of structure where you apply for a job →you get the job → you have a stable job. It's more similar to the safety and job structure of being an artist, but with a nonprofit thrown into the mix. It's... complicated! And not necessarily stable! All that to say, how I got here is not going to work for everyone and I honestly sometimes cant believe it worked/works for me at all. It might stop working any second.

But whatever here's what I did. I practiced science communication on social media and locally in Connecticut (where I was at the time). I tried to consume a lot of science communication and consider what was working in those pieces, and thought about what I enjoyed doing within that whole huge ecosystem. There's one zillion ways to do science communication, and different approaches will hit different audiences. It's totally critical for a lot of different people to be doing science communication in a way that feels genuine to them, in their own voices, with whatever methods they like doing the most so that as a collective, we hit the broadest patch of people. No one science communication technique is perfect for every "audience" member, so the diversity of approaches is so so important. I don't think that gets said enough. So explore! See what you like, see what you get joy out of doing, see how people react to it. Producing science communication as you're practicing will build out a portfolio of work that you can point to when you graduate.

There are a lot of kinds of science communication jobs. There's the freelance/DIY approach like having a podcast like Alie Ward, or founding a nonprofit (this is very hard and i don't recommend doing this lol), or having a successful youtube channel/social media situation like Hank Green or doing TV like Emily Calandrelli/Bill Nye/Phil Torres. Then there's working for an existing science education nonprofit like Biobus or Science Friday or working for institutions like museums/zoos/aquaria, etc. Theres also a whole field in the university system called "extension" where you're taking the work happening at the university and connecting the surrounding population with that work. Each of those jobs, particularly the older institution-based ones have their own structures and will come with different advice on how to get into those jobs. I'm not really sure about those. Having that science communication portfolio will likely help for all of them though!

As far as what to do for school... I think the true but kinda complicated answer is that often what we do for school isn't directly related to what we end up doing. The skills we build while we're in school, and the connections we make are really what determines where we end up and what we end up doing. So... really take seriously the stuff you're doing that nobody's telling you to do. That's as important as class... and honestly, in my personal experience, it's way more important than what you do in class.

[moretheta]

ok folks this is it. the bombshell of the chapter and its doesnt even tell us anything outright. literally every answer comes with more questions

what is benjamin's secret?!??!!? another bastard!?!? no, cant be.. at this point, if we're counting luzurus and zhang lei as contenders, that's just too many bastards. does it have something to do with tserriednich maybe? the military? honestly this is the one that stumps me the most

prince tserriednich's depravity is fairly easy to foresee. i'm sure they have dirt on him proving his involvement in some truly heinous sickening shit. (PT troupe connection...?)

the truth about halkenburg's birth ok ok ok. is this. is this what i think it is. ... are we getting confirmation that halkenburg is (probably) beyond's child? because that would be devastating to lose the only non-sociopathic man on this boat to his biological father's sociopathic manipulations. i've also seen theories that halkenburg is secretly unma's son (mostly due to resemblence to her and benjamin) which of course raises questions about duazul. tbh none of her kids really look like her, with the possible exception of camilla.... but why would one queen (especially a higher ranking queen) relinquish her child to another? is there some greater coverup we don't know about? ye gods, this family get's messier and messier by the day