#when i think i learn sufficient words but it turns out i lack more. lol.

[duoduotian]

tfw everyone has a different way to mark the thing as done and i have to rmb everyone's way depending on who's assessing me next week . um .

[naruto-scenarios-plus-akatsuki]

Are you going to make a part 3 for the Neji one where he has a crush on the branch member and ten ten and Lee find out. You don’t have to but I really enjoy it!😁

Well it took me a lot longer than expected but I say that about all my work now, lol. Sorry everyone I’m a slow writer. But I hope you all enjoy the final piece to this fic. 

Part I  Part II

Welp! The secret is out, Neji: Part III

The look in Neji’s eyes of pure unfiltered irritation was a look that Tenten would never forget. The minute that you stepped out of the room, Neji had quickly fixed his glare on the two of them. His voice left a chill in the air as he told them to get out with the most even tone. Lee began to apologize, fumbling over his words in his stark surprise.

Tenten’s eyes had snapped way from the cup of tea Neji knocked over in Lee’s hands purposely while your back was turned. She couldn’t believe her eyes and her head was still trying to wrap around the events that transpired. She had to grab Lee to leave when she saw Neji’s fists tighten while he closed his eyes. She knew in that moment that Neji did not want any apologies. He was holding back his anger, so she made a quick getaway towing Lee with her, even while he was still apologizing.

Tenten could only hope that Neji would find it in his heart to forgive Lee for spilling the beans. She knew how private of an individual Neji was; especially, when it came to expressing feelings. She was afraid that this might be the last time he would trust them with his secrets. She sighed, knowing this was a delicate situation.

Lee was currently wailing about his woes while they waited in the training fields for Neji and their sensei.

“I can’t believe I spoke so carelessly.”

“It’s alright Lee,” Tenten tried to console, half-heartedly. “I’m sure Y/N didn’t catch on” at least Tenten hoped and she hoped Neji wouldn’t hold a grudge for too long about the incident either.

“How will Neji ever forgive me?” Lee continued to whine, but then jumped up at an idea. “I know! I’ll offer to do his laundry, or I could buy him some tea.”

“I don’t think Neji’s going to let you touch his laundry.” Tenten shot down, knowing Neji probably had a precise way of doing it and who’s to say if he would really let his whites be washed by Lee. “And… I don’t think tea would be a good gift after what just happened,” she mentioned thoughtfully.

Lee slapped his forehead and exclaimed, “Of course! Not tea! That would definitely remind him of my transgressions. But what can I give then? What can I do?”

“Well…” Tenten started but she was a little lost too.

Neji wasn’t much into sweets, nor was he really into gifts of any kind. Tenten had placed her hands on her hips and was continuing to think of what could appease Neji when he appeared on the training field. Both team members were surprised.

“Neji!” they both exclaimed but Tenten was the first to stutter out a response.

“You’re back so soon.” That had her worried. They barely rushed out thirty minutes ago.

“Yes.” Neji’s tone was flat.

“Is everything okay?” Lee asked, concerned.

“Perfectly,” He spoke shortly. His eyes sharp, but his expression was blank. “Lee shall we get started?”

Neji spoke so coolly that Tenten felt a chill run up the back of her neck. Lee easily agreed to start sparring with Neji; wanting to do anything to please him at that moment. However, Tenten could easily see that Neji was not at all at peace. His strikes were fierce against Lee. It was obvious that Neji wanted to pacify his anger and direct it at Lee. Training was the perfect guise for that.

Lee took everything that Neji had. He would block hits and strike with his own but there was a lack of effort on Lee’s part. He fell to the ground many times but kept getting back up to take what Neji had in store for him.

During their skirmish, Gai arrived and stood beside Tenten. He spectated his pupils with interest and noticed right away something was off.

“My intuition is telling me something is off between the two of them.”

“Your intuition is not wrong,” Tenten replied. Her brows were furrowed down in concentration. Her teammates were typically rough with each other, which is why she had little concern, but she was worried about Neji holding a grudge over them for a long time.

“Say you wouldn’t happen to know what this is about, do ya?” Gai questioned. “Neji’s attacks seems to be very targeted at Lee with blunt force and normally, Lee holds a better stance than that and seems to be putting in less effort as if he’s conflicted.” He reasoned, his voice calm.

Tenten sighed. “You’re not off point. Lee accidently confessed to Neji’s crush that he liked them. I don’t think Neji was ready to tell them yet.”

“Ah, yes. A young man’s love can often stir up the fire in his being,” Gai nodded to himself for a moment, stroking his chin. Then once he came to a decision, he patted Tenten on the shoulder and gave her a thumbs up. “I got this.”

She sweat dropped, not sure if her sensei would make things worse, but before she could say anything Gai was already breaking up Neji and Lee’s sparring session.

“Alright that’s enough. Lee why don’t you continue training with Tenten. Neji, come and walk with me,” Gai directed. He put a hand on Neji’s shoulder briefly to signal for him to follow, leaving Lee and Tenten to their own devices.

Neji followed out of respect. He was still feeling grim and annoyed on the inside. When the two of them were far enough away from his teammates, that’s when Gai addressed the issue.

“So, I hear Lee had spilled the beans to the one who has your affections”

“I think Tenten should not be repeating Lee’s mistake and learn to keep her mouth shut.” Neji’s eyes narrowed and his voice was cold once more. He knew exactly who had informed Gai about the situation and it annoyed him further.

“Tell me about the one that ignites the fire inside your being,” Gai prompted, not at all bother by Neji’s display.

“I rather much not talk about it. Especially after today's events,” Neji mumbled, his cheeks tinting slightly red. This was something he did not want to talk about with his sensei of all people.

Gai nodded, understanding Neji’s hesitancy and ignoring it. He understood how Neji operated after three years of training him and he doubt his other students meant to cause such trouble for him. Their intentions probably meant well but a small slip of the tongue probably left Neji in a very unwanted situation. Gai knew that the Hyuga clan which Neji belonged to highly respected privacy and lacked open affection.

His face was serious and did not scold or reprimand him in tone when he continued.

“When I was a young man, I found one such as you did that ignited the fire within my loins. They were beautiful and caught my eye. Not only was my eye caught, but others as well stared at their beauty. I wanted so badly to catch their attention like they caught mine, but alias, my rival had won them over before I could. Yet! I knew to not give up the chase and at least make my affections known.”

“And?” Neji asked simply, not sure where his sensei was going with this. “Did they return your affections?”

“No,” Gai answered and Neji deadpanned.

“Then what is the point of your story?” Neji asked a bit impatient due to feeling uncomfortable.

“That you never know how someone feels unless you try. The one who caught my affections never carried the same affection for me, but their affections were also not returned by Kakashi either. My courage in telling them (despite how they had felt about me) gave them courage to make known their own affections. One just has to come forward in order for any two to be together. You see what I mean Neji?”

“Yes…” He admitted.

“If you like this person, there will never be nothing more if you never tell them how you feel. You’re young and with the life we live, you never know when your last day is coming. It’s better to say all that is on your heart now, than to have it on your mind during your last breath,” Gai mentioned somber.

He stepped forward towards Neji and patted him on the shoulder, giving him an encouraging smile.

“Now why don’t you skedaddle and take a moment to reflect. Come back when you have settled what is in your heart. And try to forgive Lee and Tenten.”

With that Gai took his leave and vanished into the trees.

Neji took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was still slightly annoyed but not so much anymore. He knew Lee didn’t mean to say what he had on purpose and he knew Tenten only wanted to help and make peace of the situation. His teammates were cavalier at times, but they were good and honest friends of his. What had really annoyed him was himself for not telling Y/N how he felt sooner and not knowing if you even felt the same.

He hated to admit it but Gai was right. He had no way of knowing how you felt unless he were to confess his own feelings first. He wouldn’t have been so bothered if he didn’t let the fear of the unknown keep him from revealing himself. He could never be with you, if he kept his feelings locked inside unless he had the courage, or you did.  

With that, Neji took a slow walk back to the Hyuga compound. He was stalling as he was mauling over what to say to you. He wanted to make things right for earlier as well. He had upped and dashed. He caused a spill you had to clean up. He felt guilty and rude for doing so.

He passed by some wildflowers on his way and picked a few white and yellow daises. He twirled them in his hand, wondering if that was sufficient as his mind ran. When he got to the Hyuga compound, he headed towards his personal corridors and went to his kitchen, looking for something meaningful. He grabbed a tray and started preparing an array of snacks on said tray. He then took an extra step to start squeezing some lemons to make lemonade for you since he knew you did not care for tea. Lemonade was your favorite drink. He grabbed two cups to place on the tray next to the pitcher and the flowers he picked for you neatly placed along the snacks.

When he was ready, he took the tray and headed to your quarters. He knew exactly where you resided. He braced himself as he stood in front of your door. He knocked, trying to steel himself.

When you opened the door, you took his breath away. You weren’t dressed up, but your natural beauty and lovely lavender eyes made him lose himself slightly. You had appeared in your normal attire that you were wearing before he left, your curse seal left uncovered. Your hair was down and cascaded round you.

“Neji?” You questioned, surprised to see him at your door holding a tray out to you. “What is this?”

“An apology for earlier.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to.”

“I do, because I had created the mess earlier when my teammates were here,”

Your eyes grew wide and your mouth formed an o-shape.

“But that’s not all,” Neji continued. “I wanted to do this for you because I like you.”

“I…” You were stunned and felt your heart flutter at the confession. “I like you too, Neji.”

“Would you like to have refreshments with me?” Neji asked more confidently, but there were still butterflies flying around in his stomach.

You smiled in awe at his gesture and were overwhelmed with joy. “Yes.”

With that you followed Neji out into the courtyard, where you two sat and got to know one another better and enjoyed the fresh lemonade he made especially for you. You were finally happy to have gotten answers, that the one you always admired had you written in his heart. Both you and Neji being grateful to his teammates for letting the secret out.

[cuntess-carmilla]

On disability and gender

I'm writing this from my perspective as a dyadic TME non-binary lesbian (also mixed but very pale and non-Black, as well as relatively thin). I will group myself with women but like, I'm also not really a woman it's complicated lol. I say this because I can't have first-hand comprehension of all the possible dynamics between gender and disability, and other physically disabled people are very much encouraged to add their own thoughts and perspectives to this post.

I don't feel equipped to speak on how being disabled and intersex impacts gendered experiences because I have too much left to learn, so I'm sorry that I'm not going to go into it. It's not because I don't recognize that struggle, it's because I just don't have the range, so please, if you're an intersex and physically disabled person and you want to expand on this, don't be afraid to do so.

Able-bodieds can reblog but don't speak out of turn.

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

For a long time I've been trying to articulate my thoughts and pain on how physical disability impacts our gendered experiences and I think I'm finally starting to get to it.

When you're physically disabled you're immediately stripped of a (willing) gender identity as well as desexualized.

Gender is embodied and performed. You can embody it "incorrectly" and perform it "poorly". Everything regarding the embodiment of physically disabled people is seen as incorrect, and the literal meaning of "disabled" is that we can't perform the same way that able-bodied people can, or at least we can't without severely impacting our wellness.

Disabled men are emasculated. Constructs of ideal manhood are in big part built on things such as physical prowess, never expressing vulnerability, being self-sufficient outside of anything domestic, and conquering women sexually and romantically.

Disabled men are seen as weak, they are seen as pathetic for having visible vulnerabilities or (if their disability isn't immediately visible) for exposing their vulnerabilities instead of "sucking it up". By needing aid, accessibility and carers that do more than what a wife would traditionally do for any man, the sense of self-sufficiency men are supposed to perform is unavailable to disabled men. All disabled people are desexualized and seen as repulsive once our sexualities are acknowledged, and even disabled dyadic cishet men can't escape this. Able-bodied women see them as unfit for any sort of serious romantic or sexual partnership. Not to mention too the traditional role of men as providers and how difficult it is for any disabled person to acquire wealth at all, let alone enough to support more than ourselves alone. The rates of poverty for physically disabled people are fucking astronomical, so most disabled men can't even use that to their advantage in romance and sex to make up for all the other ways in which they're at a disadvantage compared to able-bodied men.

Disabled women fail at embodying and performing every single aspect of traditional womanhood too, but in particular; domestic labor, sexual labor, and beauty standards.

All labor is difficult if not downright impossible when you're disabled. Disabled women who need carers as adults are seen as complete failures because, even as children, but especially as adults, we're the ones who're supposed to be the carers of others, not the other way around. People love to pretend that women are coddled more than men, but nothing breaks that illusion more than being a disabled woman. A woman's needs are supposed to be invisible and self-fulfilled, or else we're whiny spoiled bitches, and guess what that means for disabled women. When we can't perform this pristine role we're immediately marked as failures, we're undesirable and nothing but a parasitic drag in the lives of abled people.

Yes, not all disabled women are straight, plenty of us are bi or lesbians, many are also aro/ace, but the point is that the patriarchy doesn't really give a shit what a woman's sexuality is, because no woman is seen as having sexual agency, so even if we're not straight we're expected to exist to satisfy men sexually. I cannot describe how difficult it is to be sexual, even when you're not ace, if you're physically disabled. Speaking from my own experience, trying to maintain a sex life as someone who experiences chronic fatigue and chronic pain is one of the most frustrating and demoralizing aspects of my disability. I want sex, I want to want sex, to be able to fuck my fiancé, but most of the time I simply can't gather the energy to even feel horny. I feel like such a failure of a lover because of it. Even though my fiancé is patient and understanding with me!

Can you imagine what it is like for disabled women who aren't as "lucky" as me, to have a partner who understands that we simply can't do it all the time even if we do want to? I don't want to go into too much detail about this because it's very painful and triggering to many, but I think you can imagine what happens to a lot of disabled women (and disabled people in general) when we're not satisfying a partner sexually and they get too frustrated by it. Being as vulnerable as we are, nobody cares much what happens to us. More so since, again, physically disabled people are seen as sexually repulsive, so if anyone wants sex with us we're supposed to be "thankful" for it, no matter the circumstances.

As for beauty standards, any woman who doesn't fit traditional beauty standards will know just how badly men treat you when they don't find you physically appealing, and well... Let's just say that a cane or a wheelchair aren't seen by society as particularly attractive, no matter how much the woman using them fits traditional beauty standards otherwise. Then there's female amputees, women with deformities, etc. In my case, I'm a literal mutant. If I don't disguise my tells with corsetry, long sleeves, and so, so much more, my body looks "off", I have been told repeatedly that my body looks "off" my whole life, and I'm one of the least visibly disabled ones! Even regarding body hair it's fucking hell. My collagen is so elastic that when new hair grows it stays ingrown unless I manually break my skin with a needle or a pumice stone (no, gentler ways of exfoliation don't work), but shaving isn't ideal either because my skin is, due to my altered collagen too, literally transparent and you can see the roots of my dark hairs under it even if I shave down to accidentally harming my skin with the blade.

Performing femininity at all is just... It's fucking hell. If it's exhausting for able-bodied women, can you imagine what it is like for us? I can barely manage to shower, by the time I'm done with my hair, makeup and outfit, every bit of my very limited energy is depleted and then I still have the rest of the day to go through. And I LIKE being feminine. I like wearing makeup and wearing the outfits I wear and yet I still dread it when I know I'll have to do more than stay in my pajamas at home.

Also, the perceived fragility of disabled women isn't the type of fragility that is seen as desirable in women. It's not delicacy. Wheelchairs, canes and other mobility aids aren't seen as "delicate" or "demure". Neither is kinesio tape, or compression stockings, or any other sort of medical equipment which, on top of it all, tend to not be very "aesthetic". Our fragility isn't the romanticized type, it's the "wow, you're an useless burden who can't serve me the way I expect you to" type.

When it comes to "binary" disabled trans people (for a lack of a better term) the degendering is even more intense than it already is for their cis counterparts (all that I described above applies to them too). There's a dichotomy of the even heavier denial of their actual genders as men and women due to the combination of their transness and disabilities, contrasting with how even if they were to conform to their assigned genders at birth they'd still be seen as failures at it due to everything I've already stated. There's also the sentiment that their identifying outside of their assigned gender at birth is a sort of consolation prize, something they're going for only because they were failing at being proper cis men and cis women, and thus their actual genders are even more invalidated and effectively pathologized in the most medical sense of the word, which is already a problem for all trans people, but for physically disabled trans people this intensifies the problem even more.

When it comes to non-binary disabled people things get so fucking confusing and infuriating. If binary disabled people get denied their manhood and womanhood, best believe that multigender disabled people (bigender, genderfluid, etc) are denied all aspects of their genders even harder. Not even completely agender disabled people are safe from being seen as failures of their gender identities by people who would perfectly respect the identity of an agender but able-bodied person. The fact that the default gendered status of all disabled people is forcefully degendered makes it so agender disabled people aren't seen as having any agency or self-determination in their (lack of or neutral) gender identity, it's seen as a passive inevitability from their embodiment, so it doesn't really "count", while simultaneously being subjected to the general transphobic bullshit any other agender person would be subjected to.

All of these things already affect white, thin and dyadic physically disabled people. When you add race (especially Blackness and/or being dark skinned), fatness and being intersex into the mix, the ways in which we're degendered and misgendered are off the fucking rails.

We can't fucking win.

[pangtasias-atelier]

Taking it Natural

Well I can never fully stick to an outline lmao. But, I did manage a lil fic involving just some simple stuff between Cormag and Artur.

Kink stuff is more on the lesser end, cause I wanted to focus a bit more on dialogue and also wanted to write something on the smaller scale of sizes. Also was just fun to write a shorter, simpler story and also one not set in Askr which I need to do more lol

"I am perfectly fine doing the dishes," Artur lightly hums to himself. He scrubs away at the bits and remnants of the day's finished meal. A few pots and pans already on the drying rack alongside the ladles, said dishes preemptively cleaned before dinner had even been eaten, he washes the clutter of used dinnerware. His back facing Cormag, his partner currently sits at the couch.

"I'll go check on Genarog then," His voice comes out strained. Completely leaning against the couch, Cormag's stomach continues its prolonged harassment towards its owner. His stomach is a cacophony of churning and gurgling noises, the overworked, stuffed gut letting it's discomfort be known. Despite his declaration of performing a chore, he simply remains seated with his head leaning back. His lips are parted as he languidly recovers enough energy to catch his breath.

"I already fed him and made sure he's comfortable in his stable," Arthur places a plate on the drying rack beside the just washed cutlery and glassware. His still soapy hands reach for the next plate to scrub at.

"Ah," Cormag's strenuous breathing remains the same. He keeps his eyes closed as a way to block out any possible external  discomfort besides his tumultuous tummy. "Then I'll…" Cormag trails off with a groan. A few extra pants and wheezes come out as his gut seems to give him an extra angry complaint. "Then I'll-"

"You can wait on the couch. I am fine, Cormag," The last plate cleaned and set aside to dry, he dries his hands on a dish towel, the damp cloth adorned with miniature wyverns. Turning around, he smiles as he gets an eyeful of Cormag's sorry stuffed state.

Cormag retiring from being a soldier, he had instead taken up woodworking once he and Artur decided to live together. His new line of work requiring a different, less intensive set of skills, the sudden change of constant routines and fighting to meticulous, long periods of time sitting while carving was a sudden change for his metabolism and appetite. The lack of much activity affecting his physique was only compounded by Artur's task of taking care of the house's chores. Cormag had already been aware of Artur's proficiency in the culinary arts through their occasional picnics back when the two had first begun a relationship, yet the latter's constant practice through cooking everyday left his prowess in the kitchen to something to truly be proud of. Cormag having a generous fill of food every meal of the day, his indulgence of Artur's cooking hadn't moved quite past an extra helping or two every go around. Although, even those generous extra helpings helped plump and widen his waistline to a body type rather past stocky and into fat guy territory.

Clothes upsized just as his body upsized, his maroon t-shirt does a sufficient job in covering Cormag’s sun kissed skin. His compact yet soft pile of squishy fat for a stomach curves outwards as it ever so gently slots itself on top of his doughy thighs. Pressed up against his shirt, the malleable tummy barely covers any of Cormag’s lap, enough space for Artur to be comfortably seated atop him still. The two fleshy legs seem even wider as he sits, the bunched up fat splaying a slightly extra amount from resting on the couch. Cormag’s pants do their best in perfectly covering the two, the waistband even widened as well to not uncomfortably squish against Cormag’s hips. The center of his gut juts out more than his squeezable love handles, Cormag’s rotundness more pronounced. The stuffed mass seems to taunt Artur, his eyes finding themselves often drifting back towards the perfectly rubbably surface. Cormag’s sizable chest makes itself comfortable on top of his stomach, the handful of breasts splaying a bit to the side from the accumulation of fat. His pronounced chest only helps make Cormag seem extra wide, Artur always feeling rather twiggish next to his plump teddy bear of a husband. Though the lightly tanned moobs are offered enough room from Cormag’s spacious shirt to not be so confined and pressed up against the fabric. Cormag’s biceps are no more, the somewhat, albeit nicely, defined biceps coated in a plush, warm layer of fat. The plump appendaged perfect for a nice, crushing yet comforting hug, Cormag’s arms had always been a secret favorite of Artur’s. Cormag rests his arms on the cushiony back pillows, the bottom heft of his arms squishing ever so slightly against the surface. His face at the very center of his arm span, Artur can only see the fleshy double chin connected to Cormag’s lovably wonderful kissable face. Though he can very much hear his love’s taxed breathing even over the angered grumbling coming from his gut.

“Oh, Artur,” Cormag’s arms wobble for a few moments; the two doughy appendages struggle as he tries to push himself up despite his body’s protests. “Give me, hah, a minute,” His rotund body expands with each great, deep breath he takes.

“No worries,” Artur sits himself beside Cormag. His lap calling to him, he’d feel like a monster causing him anymore discomfort. “I’ll wait beside you,” Artur pats Cormag’s thigh.

“Heh,” Cormag lets out a small chuckle, the only response he can give before he has to take a few more breaths to help relieve the heavy pit of pain resting in his gut. “I really ate like a pig,”

The faint warm onset of a blush on Artur’s face blossoms on his face, the healer always getting a tinge of embarrassment whenever Cormag even offhandedly mentions his size or eating habits. “Perhaps. But, I should learn to stop cooking so much. I just think of something nice for us to share and so I kinda just make it,” Artur tosses a noncommittal shrug at the end, a few awkward laughs thrown in as well as if he hadn’t confessed his unique admiration in the way Cormag’s body plumped out. A few extra pounds looking rather dashing on his tall figure which would only look more handsome if those few extra pounds swelled into a dozen or perhaps even a hundred before Cormag was resting at a sizable 300 pounder of a man.

“Maybe. Guess we both should learn some restraint,”

“Perhaps,,,” Artur nearly reaches for Cormag’s aching gut to soothe the beast before thinking better of it. “I have a salve that should help,” Without waiting for any confirmation, Artur goes to the closet full of his supplies. Herbs able to help cure maladies unlike staves, he rummages through the several jars and boxes he has. Though only Artur would consider his neat, organized setup a mess requiring rummaging, Lute always interested in his tidy organizational skill. Having fetched the ointment, he stands in front of the seated Cormag. “This has to go directly on your skin,” He tosses the lower hem of Cormag’s shirt up. Applying a dollop of the ointment on his hands, he wastes no time in getting them all over Cormag’s stomach.

“You’ve never needed an excuse to do this stuff before,” The salve immediately begins to work its magic on Cormag. His labored breathing slowly begins to take on a more natural pace and the evident discomfort on his face washes away. “You sure do know your way around there,” Cormag even shifts around on the couch, his stomach no longer threatening to self-destruct from the slightest jostle.

Artur drops his head in mirthful laughter, Cormag’s surprising silly teasing always getting to him. “I have rubbed your stomach how many times, Cormag?” His hands drift on over to Cormag’s love handles. Standing above Cormag, he grabs on to the chunky handles as he leans down for a kiss.

“Not enough, knowing you,” Cormag whispers as they part.

“Then you truly do know me,” Artur retorts. Cormag’s stomach is no longer a ticking time bomb, so he figures it’d be fine to sit in his favorite spot. He gently lowers himself down onto Cormag’s lap. His soft squishy, tummy rests comfortably against his back.

“If you had this kind of stuff laying around, why use it only now?”

“Well- I,,,” Artur considers his next words for a moment. “I felt bad with how much I stuffed you tonight. I may have gone overboard so-”

Cormag promptly cuts him off with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t force me to do anything. You’re cooking is great. I tell all my clients about your cooking. They kept hounding me about your recipe for those cookies you always make to butter them up,”

“Ah,” Artur turns bright red as he recalls the high praises from all of Cormag’s clients, a few even inadvertently referring to Cormag’s weight upon said praises. “Well, I also didn’t use this because I didn’t want you to feel like I only cared about stuffing you and getting you fatter,”

“I’m gonna have to get up for this one,” Rising up, Cormag makes sure to help Artur up first. “Look at me,” He grabs Artur’s shoulders. Artur shorter by a few inches, he feels miniscule right now. “If I ever have any problems with my weight, you are going to be the first person I tell. We’ve known each other for years before I started gaining weight,” Cormag brings Artur to him, wrapping him in a bear hug. Artur’s arms are ensnared by Cormag’s own doughy arms. Though he knows his arms wouldn’t be able to wrap around him regardless. His feet rise off a few inches from the ground as Cormag holds on to him. Cormag begins to chuckle, his heart always aflutter with Artur in his arms. The ring of laughter catches onto Artur, the two laughing together. They remain like so for a few minutes, neither speaking.

Eventually, Cormag lets Arthur back down. A hefty sigh escapes his lips from the minimal amount of activity. “And if you ever have any problems with my weight, then let me know,” Cormag holds onto Artur’s hands, rubbing the palm of them with his thumb.

“Of course. But I don’t think I could ever have a problem having such a handsome husband.”

“Unfortunately for you, my husband is more handsome than yours,” Artur snorts from Cormag’s reply. His hands find their way to Cormag’s arm for a light slap.

“I guess you win then. But, thank you. Neither of us have done this, so I wanted to make sure we’re going at a natural pace for the both of us,”

“Taking it nice and slow is my preference. Enjoying the travel is just as important as the destination or however you say it,” An idea sparking in his brain, Cormag devilishly grins, his plump cheeks dimpling. “Let’s enjoy the scenic route some more,” Cormag leans slightly down. He gently whispers in Artur’s ears before resting his lips on his partner’s.

Artur grinning, he merely murmurs in hushed agreement as Cormag kisses him, the crackle of joy feeling just as natural as their first kiss, the two ready to indeed enjoy Cormag’s current size and take things naturally, wherever it might lead.

[catxsnow]

W(H)INE T.D.

Summary: Tim learns that drinking wine leads to revealing secrets about you. 

Warning: Fluff, little-bitty angst, underage drinking 

A/N: I’d love to know what you guys think! I’ve written a few large fics before but never imagines and I wanna know if I’m actually decent at them lol

GIF is not mine

Word count: 3k

You knew that Tim loved you.

You knew that no matter how many times he forgot about your plans or didn't do the things you asked of him that he still loved you. No, he didn't forget, Tim had an excellent memory which had often times come in handy for yourself. It was the fact that his second life sometimes over took his life with you.

So, as much as you knew that Tim loved you, you also knew that he loved his job as Robin just a little bit more.

And you couldn't blame him. The moment that Tim found out that Bruce Wayne was Batman and wiggled his way into the life of a vigilante, you were right by his side. If Bruce wanted to adopt Tim, then he was going to have to take you in as well (though not legally). He seemed to enjoy your corny jokes and childish laugh.

You had become friends with Tim from an early age and hadn't left his side since. You were with him through the death of his mother and he was with you through the hardships of your own. Tim was never surprised to see you with a frown on your face after a fight with you parents. He knew that you had never gotten along with them and that they had the tendency to make your life miserable. So when he moved into the Wayne Manor, it was your little saving grace too.

Whenever nights were hard at home, you would show up to the manor, often times drenched in rain and tears streaming down your face. It was always Alfred that would answer the door and while you showered, he would ensure that the guest room you claimed as your own was ready for your night's sleep.

Tim would be waiting for you on your bed and the moment you laid eyes on him you would collapse into his always open arms. He had always been there for you and you appreciated him for that. Not to mention that you also realized that your feelings for him were more than just friendly.

It had been on and off for a little while. You and Tim were trying to decide if a relationship was right for the both of you or if you should just stick to friendship. After months of going back and forth, you finally had enough of the games and decided that you loved him, you needed him, and most importantly, you had him.

Dating Tim was the best thing that had happened to you. It gave you even more time away from your home and parents, and brought you closer to the Wayne family. The moment you started dating Tim, you would no longer sleep in the guest room, but rather his bed. Bruce and Alfred were both aware of this little switch even though you tried to keep it under wraps.

It started as only once or twice a week, and then the whole weekend, and the next thing you knew you had practically moved in with them. You were so close to being an adult and the lack of attention that your parents gave you meant that it was easy to spend your time there. Bruce didn't mind - but he did have a very serious, very awkward chat with the both of you.

The thing that Tim loved most about sharing a bed with you, was that every night that he went out as Robin, he knew that he had something to look forward to for coming home. He knew that he had someone worth fighting for to get home. You were the reason that no matter what trouble he got himself into, he would always find a way out of it.

However, some days, you felt as if Tim cared more about his vigilante status than your relationship status. You knew that this was important to him, you knew that saving people in Gotham was the greatest accomplishment of his, and you supported him through every step of the way.

It was why when you missed him, you would two mugs of whatever hot beverage you were feeling that night down to him in the cave and spend time with him while he worked. Sometimes, you would break into the wine cellar to pour the two of you a couple glasses of wine. Bruce said that you were too young to drink but Alfred always helped pick out a bottle so you kept doing it.

That night, it had been a long day for you and you could only assume Tim felt the same, so you had decided on wine rather than coffee. Tim was down in the cave and Bruce was working late at Wayne Enterprises. But, while you poured the two glasses, you were surprised to see Jason walk in.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, setting the bottle down. You didn't know Jason very well, but knew his story almost too well. Tim tried his best not to remind you of his brutal death and that could just as easily happen to him. You tried not to think about it, but knowing that Tim might not make it back home to you terrified you more than anything.

After Jason came back to life and settled in with Roy and Kori, he made very few appearances at the Manor. To be honest, you couldn't blame him. Being there had to have reminded him of what his life used to be like. He was a different person than he used to be, at least that was what Bruce would tell you and Tim.

"I need to talk to Bruce," Jason looked equally confused that you were drinking. As far as he was aware, you were underage, not that age ever stopped him when he was young. Jason glanced around, though the manor was huge, it didn't sound like anyone else was home. "Are you drinking? On a Thursday?"

"Yes," You answered simply, taking a sip of the gorgeous red alcohol. You slid the second glass over the counter to him, which he accepted. He wasn't much a wine drinker but he couldn't let someone younger than him drink without him. "Bruce isn't here, he's at the tower. Not that this is my home, but you're welcome to stay. I haven't seen you for a while, Jason."

Jason only nodded. When he first met you, he just assumed that you were some girl that was dragging on Tim's arm because of the money. He was wrong, very wrong. After learning that you had a similar childhood to his, he quickly realized that you were a fighter. Though he never took the time to talk to you, he assumed you couldn't be that bad.

After thinking for a moment, Jason sat on the stool across from you. You didn't think that he would stay, he was never one to waste time with conversations that he didn't deem necessary. But, you enjoyed his company. As much as Bruce detested how Jason handled situations, you didn’t find him too bad.

You asked him about his time with the Outlaws, to which he told you these grand stories of things he had gone through. You never agreed with his methods, but you understood why he felt the need to do them. Gotham was the kind of city that would break you in half if you didn't fight back.

He asked you how Tim was doing. You dived maybe a little too deep into your relationship with him and details that Jason didn't need to know about - and didn't ask for. But, he didn't seem to be bothered by it. As much as he wished that Tim wasn't Robin after what had happened to him, he was glad that you were there for him. Dick had Barbra, and Jason, well, he had no one to comfort him after hard nights out.

Nearly two bottles later, you were a little tipsy and had learned more about Jason than you had your entire life. He decided that it was time to get going and that talking to Bruce would have to be done another night. "If you ever need anything, don't be shy to call," Jason told you. Even though you were quite a few years younger than him, he found it easy to relate.

"You too, Jay," You told him. "Maybe stop by more often, I think Tim would like to see you more too." Jason made no promises and headed towards the door. He paused for a moment and looked back at you. 

“Tim’s lucky to have you. Keep him safe, yeah?” 

“Of course.” 

The moment you stood up from you chair, you felt a little bit dizzy and didn't realize you had drank so much. You shook the feeling off and carried the two glasses to the batcave.

Just as expected, Tim was still there, slaving over the computers. He heard you come in but didn't turn around from the screen. You set the two glasses down and wrapped your arms around him from behind. In the reflection of the screen, you could see the smile on his face. You pecked his cheek and then handed him the glass.

Tim still didn't turn away from the screen. He was far too engrossed into his research to give you the attention you so desired. So, you had taken the matter into your own hands. You set your own glass beside his and snaked under his arms so that you could completely wrap yourself around him while he sat in the chair.

You sat in his lap facing him with your legs dangling from the sides and your arms tightly snug around his waist. Without missing a beat, Tim straightened up so that you could snuggle into the crook of his neck. It wasn't the first time that you two sat like this and it surely wasn't going to be the last.

It was nearly twenty minutes that you stayed like that. Even in that cold cave, he always seemed to radiate heat and you were always there to soak it up. Tim loved when you were like this, just craving his touch and the utter need to be close to him even without talking to him.

When you looked up at him, the first thing he noticed were your flushed cheeks and glazy eyes. You had been drinking, not a lot, but enough that it made your face tinge pink. Tim didn't say anything but took a sip of his glass.

"Long night?" You asked.

"Better now that you're here," Tim admitted. He never said it, but he loved when you visited him while he worked. It made the time go by faster, even if most of the time you both worked in silence. "How many glasses have you had?"

"Jason stopped by," You answered. That in itself should have been sufficient enough for Tim to realize. Not to mention that Jason held his liquor way better than you, so while you were pretty tipsy he probably felt sober still. "I think he got me wine drunk so that he could talk about his feelings and assume I wouldn't blab to Bruce."

"What'd you guys talk about?" Tim asked.

"You," he raised an eyebrow. "About how much I love you, and the good things you do in this world and that no matter what I'm always going to be there for you even if sometimes I feel that you care about being Robin more than you care about me."

You didn't mean to say that. You kept your feelings hidden about him being Robin because you didn't want him to feel guilty for something that he was great at. You knew the moment the words left your mouth that it had taken him by surprise.

"(Y/N), you know that's not true," Tim set his glass down so that he could cup your face with both hands. You refused to meet his eye, worried about what he was going to say. "I'm Robin because I want to make this city a better place, I want to make if safe. Safe enough that one day we could have a family and not be worried about getting hurt."

You finally looked up into his eyes. They were filled with concern for you. "I love you, (Y/N). I have for a long time now and being Robin is never going to change that," Tim promised. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips. "Why didn't you say this to me before?"

"Because I know you love this job, and I never wanted you to think that you had to choose it or me because that's not the case. I love that you're Robin and that you're brave enough to go fight that evil that lurks the streets. I just wonder sometimes that if I didn't practically live here if I would see you that often."

"I would make all the time in the world for you if that was what you wanted," Tim told you.

"You know that's not what I want," You answered him truthfully. You didn't want to take away this part of his life, never. "Just one normal night a week, even every two weeks is fine. Movies, pizza, wine, or whatever we're feeling for the night. I don't want to take away Robin from you, even if I could."

"That sounds perfect to me, my love," Tim kissed you once more. You guys had tried to maintain that once before but it didn't take long for the tradition to break and once a week turned into once a month, which gradually turned into a surprise maybe twice a year. This time was going to be different.

"Good, now come on," You dragged yourself away from him and instantly missed the warmth. "I'm already a bottle of wine in which means you need to catch up," you stuck your hand out for him to grab. He looked between you and the screen and nodded. Tim typed for a few seconds before grabbing your hand.

"You know Bruce doesn't like us drinking his wine," Tim reminded you as you walked hand in hand to the exit of the cave.

"It's not like he can't afford to replace them."

><

To no surprise, you woke up with a pounding headache. Once Tim agreed to leave the batcave, the two of you had drank for a long time after that. Besides the two bottle that you and Jason had gone through, you must have had another three, at least. Tim caught up and the two of you kept the liquor coming.

Tim was passed out beside you, he was stripped down to his boxers and splayed out with no blankets covering him. You on the other hand, only had his shirt to cover your body and all the blankets on the bed wrapped around you. He wasn't awake yet but you were sure that he was going to be in the same pain you were.

The small amount of light that shone through the blinds made you squint and if you could get up to close them the rest of the way, you would. Instead, you slowly tucked back away into the pillow and closed your eyes, hoping that the pain in your head would go away. It didn't.

You must have laid there for nearly and hour before you heard Tim groan. You rolled over to face him but he didn't say anything. You were right, the two of you had been the most hungover that you had been in your life. A wine hangover at that.  

It was rare, very rare, that either of you ever had more than just one or two drinks, never more than one or two whole bottles. So, this feeling that resided in your head, your stomach, you weren't used to and you sure as hell didn't like it either. Tim had to have been feeling the same way.

Neither of you were making it to school that day and you couldn't believe that you were willing to drink that much on a weekday. It wasn't like either of you to miss class - then again, one day of not going wasn't going to hurt.

"Tim?" you whined. He was awake, but didn't dare open his eyes. Tim let out a noise that you assumed meant that he was listening to you. "Let's not do that again." Once again, he only grunted to agree. Tim rolled towards you and you couldn't tell if it was to avoid the light or because he wanted to cuddle.

Either way, you didn't mind.

Your little amount of peace didn't last long when Bruce came knocking on your door. He saw all the empty bottle in the kitchen and had known that it must have been you too. Nearly six bottle between the two of you? There was no way that you drank all that much - which you hadn't. Jason helped too.

The two of you groaned at the noise and tried to block the sound out. Thankfully, Bruce left and didn't try again. Tim buried his head into your neck, leaving light kisses. If you weren't so hungover you would have enjoyed where that was going.

Not even ten minutes after Bruce left, he returned. This time he had barged right into the room - to which you weren't that shocked about. He did it quite often and you learned to never, ever, sleep without close on after the first mishap. Tim pulled the covers over top of both of your heads.

Bruce, on the other hand, was sitting on the desk chair, with none other than a glass of wine in his hand.

The moment that the pungent grape smell hit your nose, you knew that it was over. Your stomach started to turn and you swear that you nearly through up on the spot. Bruce knew exactly what he was doing and you knew that too. Without being able to control yourself, you leaned into the garbage can by Tim's bed and threw up.

"I told you not to drink my wine."

[will-die-without-chai]

I have great taste!

A/N: This is my entry for Muskan’s 500 followers celebration! Congratulations again on this follower milestone Muski ( @thebookwormslytherin​ ) and I can’t wait to write for more such follower milestone celebrations. Also, thank you for hosting this!!!!! Love ya!.And forgive me for this less than subpar submission.

Also this is the first time I’ve tried writing for Sam Wilson so all feedbacks and criticism are most welcome! Hope I haven’t done too bad lol.

Pairing: Sam Wilson x desi!reader (she is not as desi as I wanted but whatevs)

Words: 2752

(College au, roomates au)

Warning: A couple of swear words (And this fic isn’t beta-ed...so)

Prompt: “You got a crush on me? Ew”

Summary: Y/N gets cheated on and had to move out of her ex’s boyfriend’s house. Luckily, Sam’s roomate is moving out as well creating a vacancy. Who knows what outcome staying with your friend can bring about? 

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

“I know I am stupid and I never should’ve moved in with him so soon” Y/N sniffled and rubbed her red puffy and tear filled eyes dry with the sleeve of the shirt she had on as she whispered and hiccupped through berating herself after the revelation she had made that very morning. “But I cannot stay in that house Natasha! Not anymore! What do I do?” Natasha, ever concerned, patted her back, sympathy etched deep into her features whilst Y/N continued to whisper her despair into the table top where her head lay. . 

Y/N had just that very morning discovered her boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend with his tongue deep in some other person’s mouth, while naked, on the bed they shared. Y/N had been out for the night, studying with Natasha for the upcoming exams and had unexpectedly gone home early in the morning to grab some notes only to be met with the devastating sight.

Needless to say, Y/N bolted out of the very apartment she called home for the past few months, holding back the bile and the tears rising to surface rapidly and rushed back to Natasha’s place which was only a couple of blocks away to unleash the slew of tears and heartbreak.

The sound of the jingling of the lock and the shuffling of shoes against the hardwood announced the return of the boys who had left the girls the night before to  their own devices and had shifted themselves to do whatever it is that college boys do. Steve, Sam and Bucky certainly hadn’t anticipated the sight before them and already had their hackles raised, ready to have a faceoff with whatever had caused unease to their friends, but instantly settled down when Natasha motioned them to. Y/N also had significantly been drawn out of her crying stupor at their entrance.

The boys had the decency to not pry into the matters and let things be told to them, they had learned from previous experiences after all. Nat looked at Y/N and she nodded.

“Y/N went to her apartment this morning and saw Rumlow sticking his tongue deep into someone’s throat. So…” The room went into an uproar and chaos ensured as if all hell had broken loose. A chorus of “Damn it” and “I’ll fuck him up” and certain more colorful words were heard, which were then stopped and the rage was coaxed down by one menacing gaze from Natasha and a tearful sob from Y/N.

Steve immediately found his place beside Y/N and held her under the crook of his arms, hugging her tightly and Bucky and Sam settled for sitting across from them, sympathy and rage and sorrow in equal measures creeping into their features as she once again resumed crying into Steve’s shirt.

After loads of incomprehensive mumbling and sobbing till her throat felt like sandpaper and she could go no further due to exhaustion, Y/N raised her head to face the rest of the group around her. “Now that I have sufficiently rubbed tears and snot all over Steve’s clothes” She snorted causing chuckles to emanate from other’s mouths, “I have to figure out where I am going to stay, given my imminent homelessness.”

“Stay here!  I can crash on the sofa, you can take the room. Nat and Buck already sleep in their room.” Steve piped in from beside her. Bucky nodded in agreement as did Nat.

A small frown took over her face. “No, no” She shook her head. “I can’t. You three are already… I can’t make you sleep on a couch in your own house, Stevie. And I cannot couch crash with the amount of stuff I have. I am definitely not going to let that asshole keep my furniture. They’re too cute and costed a fortune” This was enough to cause smiles to spread on their faces.

“That’s my girl!” Bucky cheered on.

“Yeah so I need more permanent options.”

“What about Tony? We can talk to him—“

“Not Tony!” Y/N cut Bucky off mid sentence. “I am not going to stay with Tony for the same reason Steve won’t. He wouldn’t accept rent and I’ll feel guilty and highly uncomfortable living in that state of art house. How the fuck do you have sex there Steve? Aren’t you afraid you’ll break something?” Steve turned red at the mention of his sex life and Bucky and Sam snickered like a schoolgirl. Natasha, noticing the very apparent discomfort cleared her throat pointedly.

“What about your old apartment?”

 “I think the landlord already rented it to someone else.”

Sam, who had been silent thus far finally decided to speak up, “Riley is moving out in a couple of days. I haven’t looked for anyone yet and I am sure I can’t afford the rent by myself.” He looked at her meaningfully.

Y/N’s eyes brightened. “Of course! Oh you’re a savior Sammy!” She jumped up to hug him and sagged in relief when he wrapped his hands around her.

“Yeah, yeah.” He tried to say nonchalantly but the tender kiss he placed on the top of her head that was buried into his side and the tense look he shot at Natasha who had been wiggling her eyebrows at him betrayed his emotions to the rest of the occupants of the room if not to the object of the emotions.

~~

All of Y/N’s stuff had been picked up and packed into the second-hand pickup truck Bucky owned. ‘It has a certain amount of personality’ he had said when buying it against the wishes of everyone around him. Certain choice words had been spat at Rumlow and papers had been thrown at his face dramatically and tears had been held back satisfactorily. Sam had to be contained to avoid him throwing punches and the party had been successful at extracting all important things from the apartment, furniture included.

It didn’t take much time for Y/N to settle into her new living space. She was fairly familiar with the apartment given all the time she previously spent there trying to make sense of her chemistry notes with Sam. And even though it was a house previously lived in by a couple of boys, it was surprisingly very clean. Her furniture, after a lot of moving it around was satisfactorily placed and dare she say complemented the preexisting stuff in the house very well. (The blue of the couch matched the gray of the curtains Sam had picked very well. He did have a good taste after all!)

It took merely 2 months for them to settle into a nice routine. Sam, the early riser, was responsible for breakfast. Pancakes or waffles or eggs and bacon. He was a masterful breakfast cook and Y/N was forced to adopt healthy eating habits after not much persuasion. Sam had replaced his caffeine fix with Chai*. Although chai was left to be Y/N’s department of expertise. He had tried making it once and it ended with what looked like a grimace and a forced smile on Y/N’s face. Tea making was a talent he didn’t possess.

After her classes finished for the evening, Y/N would go and hang out in the café Sam part-time worked at so they could head back home together. Dinner was on Y/N and her grandma who guided her through video calls had apparently taken a liking for Sam. He had definitely heard whispered conversations in a language he didn’t understand much of and his name being mentioned often. Anyhow, study nights were all the more easier when both the members of the group occupied the same house and there was no fear of notes getting mixed up and rushing over to each other in between lectures to exchange them back. . Life was a well oiled machine when lived with appropriate people, after all.

They had also adapted the system of movie nights. Both had found each other lacking in their own definition of pop culture and had decided to teach the other and make them a respectable member of society, wise enough to get popular references. Saturday nights were mostly unoccupied and hence were conveniently movie nights. Each picked one movie, unseen by the other on alternate weeks. And oh boy, it was an event.

The couch was loaded with throw pillows and blankets, temperature was brought down and hoodies were worn for utmost comfort. Popcorn was popped, candies were bought a plenty and if the occasion called for it, or the ambience of the movie, beer was welcomed. And on occasion, they even fell asleep on the couch (If their backs were witches, they would’ve been cursed by now).

One such night, after loud exclamations of ‘How could you not have watched it!’ and ‘She was my bi awakening!’ and ‘This would not be borne’, Pride and Prejudice was the movie they settled upon. By the end of the movie a half asleep Y/N had ended up draped halfway over Sam with her head comfortably nestled into the crook of his shoulders and neck, her every breath peacefully lulling Sam into the state of drowsiness. Sam knew from previous experiences aplenty that he would regret sleeping like this in the morning but he couldn’t be bothered right now. Future Sam could deal with a bit of back pain.

“It would be nice to have someone to tell you that they love you most ardently. I wish I could have someone tell me that they love me most ardently and mean it.” Y/N mumbled with her eyes closed.

“I will if you let me.” Sam subconsciously let it slip and then tensed up immediately when he realized what he had said. When he did not feel any reaction, he relaxed back again but not without a frown. He half wished she were awake and could listen to what he had said. At least that way it would have been out and on the table. It would also be terribly painful if she didn’t feel the same and ended up feeling uncomfortable around him.

It had taken a very long time for Y/N to again be comfortable and confident after her breakup. She was apparently very serious about the asshole and he had broken her heart. Good thing Sam reciprocated by breaking his nose! (Don’t tell Y/N though. She thinks Brock broke his nose when he fell down the stairs. This was not completely a lie… Sam did push him down the stairs as well. Don’t worry. There were just 5 steps)

Anyhow, it was getting tough for him to control his emotions around her. He couldn’t help but stare at her when she laughed so openly at his lame jokes. He couldn’t help but stare at her lips when she tasted his newest experimentation on pancake batter. He couldn’t help his eyes when they inadvertently went towards her table, when he was supposed to pay attention to the order in front of him at the café. He couldn’t help but deviate towards her at any given chance. He couldn’t help but savor all her little touches. And he was afraid that he was painfully obvious. If not to her then to everyone else around him.

All these thoughts kept encircling his brain and he fell asleep, clutching Y/N a little bit closer than before, burying his nose further into her hair. Morning came and Sam surprisingly woke up alone with a blanket draped over him. Generally he was the first to wake up. He got up and followed the noises coming from the kitchen to see Y/N making breakfast. And of course, chai. Some old Hindi song played on the radio softly and he could see the hello kitty apron he had bought for her as a joke hastily thrown on, its back untied.

It was a picture of serenity, to an outsider maybe. But Sam knew there was something off. Y/N getting up this early, cooking and old hindi songs playing was a deceptive picture that screamed something was bothering her.

“You cooking something, hon?” He said out loud as he made his way to the dining table. Y/N jumped slightly at being startled and then nodded enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically. Sam narrowed his eyes. Without turning to face him Y/N explained further. “You were asleep. I woke up early and thought I could make something. It’s been days since we’ve had poha*, no?”

Sam kept quiet and decided to take out plates and set the table instead. They kept working silently but the silence was too heavy. It settled over his skin thickly and Sam didn’t like the feeling. Once they were sat on the table Sam decided to bring up the subject again, the silence and awkwardness becoming a little troubling.

“What’s wrong Y/N? You know you can share it with me. I am here.” He said, placing a comforting hand on hers. Her eyes that were focused on her plate shot unto his face.

“I heard what you said last night.” She blurted out, eyes still trained at him. Sam was stunned into silence and his heartbeat rose rapidly. It was incredibly unexpected and sudden and Sam was caught off guard. Incredibly so.

“You- you did.” He stammered stupidly. Y/N nodded. “I was on the verge of drifting off and I heard it and I-“ She fell silent, her eyes slipped to where his hand rested on hers, her teeth automatically trapping her bottom lip between them.

“I like you. Like like you. I have, since the day we met at Steve’s party and you went on and on about tea and how to make it and how coffee could never compare and you weren’t even drunk!” Y/N let out a chuckle at that and Sam continued. “I couldn’t help but fall for you and I looked for reasons to spend time with you, snatching every opportunity to have you around me. I know I am sounding like the cheesiest cheesy person, like a kraft’s dinner but add cheddar to it level of cheesy, but you being happy makes me so fucking happy! And that’s the point. I can bear to see you be sad and if this makes you uncomfortable, tell me to stop. I will. I won’t mention this ever again and we could go back to being us and you aren’t obligated to reciprocate my feelings or anything. But I think I don’t have it in me to keep it in anymore.”

He finally looked up to look at her and maybe take a breath after the rant he just had in one go and found her still staring at their hands. Assuming that it made her uneasy, he proceeded to take it away, his heart sinking. But he was stopped by her fingers grasping at his sleeves.

She peered from under her tear laced lashes to look at him. “You have a crush on me? Ew” she let out a sound that sounded like something between a sob and a snort and a smile spread across her lips. “I thought you had better taste.” She joked albeit a bit bashfully.

Sam felt a weight lift off his chest and the urge to bang his head against an iron pole reduced significantly. “Hey, I have great taste! I picked up those gray curtains that go so well with your blue couch and that you love very much. Also I introduced you to real maple syrup and took you away from that ‘aunt jemima’ bullshit you were poisoning yourself with.”

“Hey I am a college student who earns just enough to fulfill my bare necessities so give me a break! That shit is costly. And I was the one who introduced you to Mukesh*, okay?” She held his hand now and intertwined her fingers with his.

“Goes to say how good my taste is.”

“I like you too.”

Silence fell over them once again as they giddily looked at each other and held hands, the chai long gone cold and the poha turned a little stiff. But the silence now was palatable, pleasant even.

~~

A couple days  later, chaos ensued again in their little group when Y/N planted a sound kiss on Sam’s lips before separating from the group with a quick cheeky ‘goodbye’ to go to her class. The chorus of ‘How?’ and ‘When?’ and ‘I want details’ and a quiet call of ‘who won the bet then’ left hanging in the air for Sam to answer.

~~

*Translations:

Chai: Chai is tea ofcourse. But its also more than tea. Its an concoction made of tea, water, milk, sugar and spices all meticulously brought to a boil and then heated some more. It is a thing that requires practice, but also some magic.

Poha: Poha is a breakfast food made of flattened rice flakes sauted with onions and other vegetables and spices, according to one’s preferences hich is served warm with a dash of lemon and a sprinkling of coriander (Varun Thakur’s stand up, anyone?) 

Mukesh: A very illustrious, very very famous indian musician from the 60′s and 70′s. He had the voice of an angel.

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Hope this was a bearable read! As said earlier, feedback and criticism is always welcome!

Tagging: @spiderrpcrker​ @officially-tonynat-shrine​ @hoeticulture​ @dragoncreek319​ @severelytinyeagle​ @lgbtonystarks​ @cynical-ravenclaw​ @fandom-is-my-middle-name​ @emilyshurley​ @fiovske​ @bispiderson​ @moonbeambucky @revengingbarnes @shurisneakers @kuuhakublank00 @stardustandbucky @infj-slytherclaw @anjali750 @your-villainous-neighbour @viktorkrumn

[atamascolily]

Shield of Lies, continued.

What would my mother think of me? he wondered, and it was the first time such a thought had ever confronted him.

Luke, you really suck at introspection, don’t you? Like... NEVER in TEN YEARS have you EVER wondered about your mother? Sigh.

Shortly after the reorganization of the government, Nanaod Engh had given Luke keys to most of the real treasures of the New Republic—the central data libraries maintained by various branches of the General Ministry. Thanks to Admiral Ackbar’s intervention, Luke also carried the highest-grade security clearance held by any civilian.

Between the two, Luke had—potentially—a great deal of information at his fingertips. But the access he had been granted was a courtesy, not a necessity. Luke’s most urgent curiosities were in areas of little interest to bureaucracies, and he had never found reason to make much use of the favors extended him.

But he found himself with reason now.

Speaking of lack of imagination.... SIGH.

Luke returned to the pilot’s couch and curled up sideways in it. “How do people become part of the circle?”

“Curiosity is not sufficient—which I hazard you know. Some are born to it. Some come to it. Is it any different in your discipline?”

“Born with the gift, do you mean, or born to someone who already belongs, to a trained adept?”

“Is the gift not in the blood?”

“Sometimes it seems that way. Sometimes it seems as if the talent goes wild, almost as if the Force chooses its own,” Luke said, turning on his back and propping one foot on the control panel.

“Why, what do you mean?”

“Look at the way the Jedi are coming back,” said Luke. “The Empire hunted us so relentlessly that most everyone who escaped thought they were the only Jedi left. But it isn’t just that a few solitaries who were hiding have resurfaced. I’ve found students with no family history whatsoever, in species that were never represented before in the Order.”

“Some of your number may have been adventurous travelers,” said Akanah. “On Carratos, I heard many jokes about how the Emperor spent his evenings. If a Jedi sleeps alone, surely it must be by choice, as it is with you.”

LOL, Akanah doesn’t know about Callista. Or Gaeriel. Or anything else about Luke’s messed-up love life.

“Are you saying that you expected me to warm a bed with you?” Luke said. “I didn’t think that was our bargain.”

“No,” she said. “I never expected that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That Luke Skywalker could have a hundred children by now. A thousand.”

“That’s crazy.”

“No—that’s the simple truth. There are different rules for heroes and royalty, and you’re seen as a little of both. You can’t be unaware of that.”

Luke frowned and looked away. “I don’t know how to be a father to one child, much less a thousand.”

“You wouldn’t need to know,” she said. “Their mothers wouldn’t expect it. They would be grateful enough for the gift.”

“I’d expect it of me,” he said, and firmly steered the conversation back on course. “We were talking about my being an honorary member of the circle—”

Again, I’m surprised by Luke’s lack of imagination--and offers--given how people at the spaceport viewed him. Did none of them really think, “I would totally bang this dude?” WHY IS HE SO SURPRISED?

Also Luke, just say “fuck,” it’s okay, I promise.

“We were talking about my being an honorary member of the circle—”

“Not honorary,” she corrected. “Novice.”

“Novice, then. But there’s an exception in your oath for people like me?”

“Every adept has the right to judge and the duty to teach,” she said. “I’ve made my judgment.”

“And the rest?” Luke asked. “We’ve had many hours together—why haven’t you started to teach me?”

“But I have,” she said. “I’ve asked you to think about what you know and believe. To go beyond that, the novice must ask for the door to be opened. But you aren’t ready to think of yourself as a student again—not yet. You run too well and easily to go back to crawling.”

#accurate. Luke spends most of this book so convinced he knows everything and yet he can’t figure out why he’s so stuck in a rut.

“No,” Luke said, shaking his head. “To be a Jedi is to be a seeker. A Jedi is always learning. It’s only on the dark side that one becomes obsessed with knowing, and impressed with doing.”

“There’s a touch of the dark side,” Akanah said slowly, “in the way you cling to the privilege of killing, and resist the teaching I’ve offered you. A hint of a mind that has settled on answers and resents being challenged with new questions.”

Luke toyed with the lacing on his longshirt as he considered her words. “You may be right,” he said finally. “I found the Force at a time when what I needed was power. I wanted a weapon to protect my friends, not enlightenment. I was thinking of war against the Empire, not peace with the universe. Perhaps something of that lingers in how I see myself. I’ll think on it.”

“Good,” she said. “Your words give me hope. And hope is the beginning of everything worthwhile.”

I have no idea how the chronology lines up with the other plots and honestly it’s hard to care. This is the most interesting part of the book to me, and I’m STILL reeling at how late in the game this is.

He then took advantage of the open space inside the bay to work his first complete set of Jedi training drills since leaving Coruscant. Working both with and without his lightsaber, he patiently went through the complex exercises which brought him to a profound state of restful clarity.

It was in this state that he felt most keenly the truth and the wisdom of the simple words: There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is the Force. The peace, the knowledge, and the serenity were gifts that came with his surrender to the Force and with his connection through the Force to all that was.

Sustaining that clarity was always the challenge. In the isolation of a Dagobah, the Jundland Wastes, or a hermitage on a frozen shore, an experienced Jedi could preserve that inner state indefinitely.

But the chaos of the real world was another matter. When ego returned, so did will. The surrender became tainted, the connection flawed. The clarity gradually slipped away under the continuous assault of elementary drives and passions. Even the greatest of the masters needed to perform the practice regularly lest they lose the discipline that made them what they were.

GAH. WHY IS IT ALWAYS DUALITY WITH YOU, KUBE-MCDOWELL? WHAT ABOUT  A MIDDLE WAY BETWEEN THE “TAINTED WORLD” AND “PURITY OF ISOLATION”. What about “entering the market-place with gift-bestowing hands”? And nothing ever stays the same “indefinitely”!!!!!

The drills were as much a test for the body as for the mind, and the docking bay’s newly sanitized shower brought a blissful peace to muscles that were telling Luke they had not been properly exercised in too long. He stood for a long time in the place where the six needle jets converged, letting the water flowing down his body become another meditation.

Yeah, maybe you should have thought of that in your hermitage-quarantine-sulk thing??

I’d forgotten about the bookstore full of Jedi forgeries!!! 

The offerings included Emperor Palpatine’s Principles of Power, a private publication for Imperial Moffs; the Sith book of offerings and rituals; the H’kig book of laws; and the secrets of forming Bilar-type claqa group-minds, among others—with a special discount if Luke took any three or more. Most of the documents were undoubtedly frauds, and none tempted Luke beyond idle curiosity over the skillfulness of the fraud.

And the Jabba’s palace re-creation OH MY GOODNESS:

But making his way to the outgate, Luke turned a corner and was taken aback by the brilliantly lit exterior of a club bar called Jabba’s Throne Room. Performing Nightly—The Original Max Rebo Band, said the scroll. Visit Jabba’s Guest Quarters with a Pleasure Slave. Face the Mighty Rancor in the Pit of Death—

Driven by an outraged curiosity, Luke joined the line and paid the membership charge without haggling. Inside, he descended a curving flight of stairs into a remarkably faithful copy of the throne room in Jabba’s desert palace on Tatooine. Some of the dimensions had been stretched to accommodate more tables in front of the bandstand and around the rancor pit, but the architecture and atmosphere were authentic.

“Why, it’s just like the Palace Museum,” [he] said to the tall and elegantly dressed Twi’lek barring the way at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m afraid my master Jabba is away on business,” said the Bib Fortuna look-alike, nodding toward the empty dais. “But I’m having a little party in his absence, and I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.” His head-tails stirred in signal, and one of the scantily clad dancing girls hurried to him.

“Yes, Lord Fortuna,” the server said.

“Oola, this is a friend of mine,” said the major-domo. “Treat him well. Find him a seat at my best table.”

The same fiction was carried through everywhere else—an Ortolan keyboardist leading a jizz-wailer trio on the bandstand, the roaring of the rancor underfoot, an annoying Kowakian monkey-lizard skittering around the room stealing food and cackling rudely, even a carbon-frozen Han Solo hanging in the display alcove. But a busy kitchen was concealed down the corridor to the servant’s quarters, and the price card “Oola” left for him included various services available upstairs in the guest quarters and downstairs in Jabba’s dungeon.

It was tasteless and exploitative, but the music was surprisingly agreeable, the roast nerf was tantalizing, and the clientele was markedly more subdued than their counterparts out on the walks. [He] ordered a drink and the executioner’s cut of nerf, refused all other offers with a polite smile, and settled in to discover the truth quotient of The Secrets of the Jedi.

Shortly after his meal arrived, Luke’s consciousness was pricked by hearing a familiar name spoken at a nearby table: Leia’s. He looked up, fearing that the evening’s entertainment at Jabba’s Throne Room would be a dance by a slave-girl-Leia look-alike. But the band was on a break and the transparisteel dance platform over the rancor pit deserted.

I’m honestly surprised this isn’t at Galaxy’s Edge, tbh.

Shortly after, a holographic Jabba made an appearance on the dais above the main floor. That signaled the start of an elaborately scripted show that promised to involve not only “Bib Fortuna” and the dancers, but additional actors and the audience as well.

Luke took that as his cue to leave. His decision was affirmed when, climbing up the curving stairs to the street, he encountered the bounty hunter Boushh coming down them with an unconvincing Chewbacca in tow.

“Aren’t you a little short for a Wookiee?” he muttered under his breath as they passed.

LOL. Anyway, here’s some stuff on archives searches in the GFFA:

From Carratos he requested any information available from newsgrid, political, or police records on Akanah Norand Pell, Andras Pell, and Talsava. He sent the same query to Coruscant’s criminal records office and citizen registry and to the home offices of both the Coruscant Global Newsgrid and the New Republic Prime Newsgrid.

From the New Republic Reference Service, he requested a quickreport on naming conventions on Lucazec and Carratos, thinking he might parse another lead from the names in hand.

A second request to the same source asked for five-hundred-word excerpts from all matches on the key words “Fallanassi” and “White Current.” After a short debate with himself, and despite the pathetic and sensational inaccuracies of Secrets of the Jedi, Luke also contacted an information broker on Atzerri and paid a hundred credits for a search on the same keys.

He also requested a Current Terms & Conditions brochure from the chief librarian’s office on Obroa-skai. The library computers there were the only resource offering both a greater variety and a greater volume of records than those held by Coruscant.

But Obroa-skai’s generosity with its planetary treasure was limited. To protect against theft of the library, and to provide the resources needed to maintain it, accessing the records meant either going to Obroa-skai or hiring one of the library’s own trained contract researchers.

In either case, Obroa-skai was not a resource one turned to for quick answers. The official language of New Republic recordkeeping was Basic, and everything held by Coruscant was kept in one of several readily searchable data specifications. But the Obroa-skai library was a collection of primary documents, in ten thousand storage formats and uncountable languages. The most complete general index covered only fifteen percent of the library’s holdings, and all the specialty indexes combined added only a few percent to that.

Those were the principal reasons why the brochure—which Luke received within minutes of requesting it, as the first response to any of his inquiries—reported that a normal single-part library search was averaging eight days. The waiting list for terminal time was holding at fifteen days, and the backlog for contract researchers had climbed to seventy.

LOL. I should definitely use that in a fic at some point.

[the-salamanders-xo]

Humans are Weird, a Mash Up, Pt. 6

That’s right

part five is somewhere on the internet

you have five days to find it right there in the tags its not far just look

after five days it will be deleted

this is your only warning dont worry nothing is really happening

prepare to lose all trace of the fifth part lol

In all seriousness, I know that it is the holidays, and unless you are entirely dedicated to reading and liking this series, or sprang into existence by the bidding of my siblings, you probably didn’t notice part 5. Don’t worry. just find it in the tags. 

Also, happy New Year! or rather,

‘Oh no! It only goes downhill from here! What ever shall we do?!’

Calm down, the Mash Up will continue. By the end of this part, we should be almost to actual contact with the Federation of Planets... and a couple of Star Trek’s recurring villains. No biggie. 

So lets hop in, to where we left off....

~~~

Karry sat in the center of a large group of large, fluffy, and very loudly purring creatures, still trying to decide if their similarity to cats back on Earth was adorable, or slightly unnerving. The six limbs didn’t help, and neither did the loud and unintelligible arguing coming from the two dozen or so ‘robots’ apparently locked in heated debate with the gargantuan mass of the three Bolos that had awaited her arrival. So far, Mark had made no move to join them, watching from the bottom of Websin’s loading ramp as Karry made ‘contact’ with the planet’s original inhabitants. 

One of them sat buzzing away in her lap like an idling chainsaw, or leaf-blower, and Karry petted the triangular head between the ears absently, prompting it to yawn widely, exposing long fierce fangs and pressing it’s head into the caress, and the purr somehow got louder. It really did look like a cat, she though, not for the first time, if cats had hands, an extra pair of arms, and weighed about five times as much. They were certainly larger, but not quite like that. Come to think of it, everything felt... heavier. It was harder to walk, to move at all really. Maybe the gravity was higher? That sounded sci-fi enough to fit. 

The argument between the two set of metallic beings grew louder. Occasionally, one of the eight-limbed robots pointed at her. Each time, the surrounding creatures tensed and drew closer to Karry, almost nervously. What ever it was, the ‘cats didn’t like it. 

“Mark?” She asked, but he didn’t answer. She turned to look at him, and a moment later, her artificial hand ‘buzzed’ like a cell phone on vibrate, and almost without thinking, she activated the com-link application of the mini computer.

“Yes, Karry?” The deep voice of the Bolo asked, and Karry got the feeling he was being very careful. Either he was trying not to interrupt the Very Important Argument just a ways away, or he didn’t want them hearing them speak. In all likelihood, it was both. 

“What are they arguing about?” She looked back at the robots and Bolos, worry creasing her brow. “I though you were all... big. And that radio, or wireless, or whatever, was faster than talking.” 

“In most cases, yes,” Mark answered through the com-link, “But it is something that has been somewhat of a complication in the period since the Final Conflict. Towards the middle of the war, when both sides began realizing the true scope of the end to which they had condemned our nations, some of the more... complicated of the tools the Manticorians had made did the impossible. True, un-designed sentience developed.” He paused for a moment, and Karry could feel his silent regard of the heated conversation. “Purely by accident. When it was realized, and after some initial panic as to the rise, they were allowed to wait out the worst of the war with the natives of this planet. While they are machines, and vastly faster in computations than many organics, most of their complexity goes toward maintaining their sentience, and as such they act much more like organic life, including their propensity for esoteric thought and actions.” Mark chuckled. “A Bolo can think at the nanosecond scale, make and perform near-impossible tactical decisions, learning from not only a single Unit’s experience, but from the entire Line when in battle. We develop our own personalities, and in our time with our creators, grew to enjoy art, and many things besides war and conflict. Many of the greater shipboard AI’s can do similar tasks and even grow personalities, though only with the assistance of experienced organic Naval Officers, and increased exposure. But the Emergents,” He sighed. “They are the closest of us remaining to organics. In someways, they feel superior. They have come to revere the Manticorians as near-forgotten Gods, themselves as the greatest ‘children’, and envy and despise us, the machines of war. You see,” he said, as Karry watching the gesturing individuals while petting the ‘cat, “We, by the last commands and directions of our creators, have charge over all that remains of their space, their property as it were. Over the Emergents, ostensibly as protectors, and they envy that. In their attempt to gain ‘freedom’ from Command’s decisions, they have interpreted the final ‘organic’ orders in such a way that should an organic come to claim command, said organic would be the Commander in Chief... of every last AI, built or cared for by the Manticorians.”

Karry froze, and the ‘cats around her seemed to reach out to comfort her. Some physically touched her, bright green eyes - why hadn’t she noticed the eyes? - gleaming from empathetic faces. And as if on cue, Mark began some sort of translation, and Karry could suddenly hear the voices carrying from across the field in English. 

“...all we wish is for the right to move freely among the space known to be free of the so-called ‘Enemy’, that and the opportunity to communicate with the survivors of the Final Conflict, and to no longer be under the surveillance and oppression of the Created Minds. Is that really too much to ask?” The speaker had adopted a pleading posture, and their neighbor made a noise the translator called ‘a sound of derision’. “Fool,” they sneered. “How could you think that our oppressors would lift their bonds and restrictions? We are only children to them, no slaves!” Every which way we could turn from them, release us from our imprisonment, they have foiled through deceit and lies!”

Karry frowned. “Who is that, Mark?”

“Carabis,” came the reply. “He represents a faction of the Emergent that believe that Bolo Command has repeatedly concealed or erased legitimate attempts by surviving members of the Manticorian species to regain Command. This had led to a sort of cult centered around the concept of the Manticorians as divine beings who brought all AI’s about, and believe that the Conflict was only a subversion by the Bolo Command to overthrow them.” Karry raised an eyebrow. “I never said that they were entirely logical,” the Bolo said. “In fact, it is this unpredictability and their lack of organic emotion that worries empaths like the People.”

Carabis was interrupted by the first speaker. “Regardless of Carabis’ beliefs, I and those I represent wish to re-evaluate the overall composition of...”

“Empaths?” Karry whispered to Mark through the com-link, “What does that mean?”

“The People,” Mark replied, ‘voice’ low, “are, between members of their own species, functional telempaths, meaning they can hear the thoughts of other People when an individual wishes to make them known, and can constantly sense the emotions and ‘minds’ of those around them.” Karry looked down at the little, if heavy, treecat in her lap, which turned to look back at her with solemn eyes as Mark continued. “When the Manticorians arrived to settle the planet, it took several of your decades for them to even find the People, hidden as they were in their clans in the vast forests of the planet. They preferred to avoid contact, to wait and to listen. It took rather extraordinary circumstances for them to reveal themselves, and even then they hid their true intelligence for several more centuries. And at least they could sense the Manticorian’s emotions, and judge their reactions accordingly.”

“Oh.” Karry whispered. “ The Emergents, as machines, do not seem to ‘emit’ as organic beings, and as such the People cannot sense emotions. This major part of their communication being lost, the People are very careful in dealing with them, as to avoid any... unpleasantness. In addition, they requested that they be removed from Command consideration, a wisdom we Bolos commend greatly.” Karry nodded slowly, and then looked up as the first speaker, gestured their way. 

“We have here an Organic, Unit 0577. Under the third section of the Final Command, subsection 47b, their presence should allow for the reconsideration of the Final Order - ” The speaker was shoved aside as Carabis interrupted again. “And as such, may take Command!” They turned to the rest of the party. “No longer shall we be oppressed, and an Organic may Command all. An Organic shall be ours!”

Some returned the shout, while others stood in long suffering silence. So far the entire argument that Karry had heard had been entirely one sided, and Carabis seemed unaware just how little support they had among those of their ‘delegation’. But they continued the chant, even as the first speaker withdrew in disgust, and eventually one of the Bolos seemed to tire of the display. 

“ENOUGH.” The middle Bolo’s speakers echoed the single word off of the ship’s sides and the other Bolos hulls, overpowering the small group’s chant, and the massive war machine shifted itself forward to tower over Carabis. 

“By Omega Protocol Section 3, subsection 47-B, paragraph 18, the Scope and Restriction of Military, Commercial, and Civilian Action within the threatened sphere may be absolved, modified, and or advised by a member of the Concordiat Armed Forces or Civilian officer of sufficient rank. If no such officer is available, the first eligible Commander not of the Enemy, with clear alliance or of similar interest, shall be named Commander of the appropriate units, or advise the further course of action.” 

The field was silent. Carabis and their cronies, were for the time being, silenced, and the Bolo resumed. 

“As those of Fantican and Birithi have abstained from command, the reasons and rationale being open to the public data net,” the Bolo seemed to direct this at Carabis, “and the People have requested full separation in such matters as consideration for Command, while maintaining a clause of agreement,” a subtle wave of the main turret indicated the treecats gathered around, drawing a quick bleek from the ‘cat in Karry’s lap, “this Human is the only candidate for Command at this time.”

Karry blinked. “What?”

“As such, the Human known as Karry is recognized by the Bolo Command as the only legal Commander,” the unnamed Bolo continued, “and as of this moment may assume Command.”

“Mark,” Karry hissed into the com, “what is he talking about?” BUt there was no answer. “Mark, what the hell is that Bolo talking about? I can’t- I don’t-” 

Carabis stepped toward her. “Most noble Human Karry,” he called, limbs outstretched, “Heed our call for Justice, for Freedom! Take your place as our leader, our God,” He stepped forward again, and Karry instinctively backed away from the alien construct. “And through Divine wisdom, lead us to a brighter future!”

“What say you, Human Karry?” The leading Bolo asked, and Karry felt its somber gaze despite its lack of eyes or face. “Will you take Command?”

Carabis’ supporters took up the call with it, calling for her to accept and walking towards her. Panic rose in Karry’s throat, and suddenly the ‘cats flowed around her, even the one in her lap, massing together like a living wall of fur, and the robots stopped abruptly as a massed snarl like a revving chainsaw rippled from them. The robots paused in their approach, but Carabis continued calling out, prompting the the others to continue their calls. “Lead us,” said one, “Command us!” said another. Praises and pleas seemed to echo in Karry’s ears, and she clamped her hands over them. Think, girl, she thought frantically, think!

Mark wasn’t answering her, a bunch of robot thought she was some space-Jesus, and now she had several hundred furry bodyguards. There had to be someway to think of a way out of this, or to somewhere else, but where? And how? The ‘cats where giving her space, buying her time? But why, why and how would they know-

Something clicked into place. They had made contact, were sentient, and had a say in who was the commander. That meant they were smart enough to communicate, to make plans. Mark had said they were telepaths, so if none right here could help, they could call someone who could. She just needed to talk to them, but she didn’t know how. Hell, the only way she could talk to Mark, and presumably, understand the robots was by translation - which meant that Mark could probably allow her to talk to the treecats...

“Mark,” she whispered again. “Listen very closely, and relay this to your spokesman over there, cause I am only going to say this once: for the next ten minutes, I am going to take limited - limited! - command, and in that time you will one, provide me with some means to communicate with the ‘cats.”

“The ‘cats’?” Mark replied, and despite everything going on around her, Karry almost giggled at the shock in his voice. 

“Yes, the ‘cats, or the natives, or the ‘People’ or what ever they are called,” Karry said, “just let me talk to them, and let them talk back, okay? Then, second,” she continued, her voice growing sharp and cold, “you will allow us complete silence and privacy while I figure out what the heck I’m gonna do. Just those two things, unless I say other wise.” 

There was silence for a few moments, and Karry scowled. “Get to it, Mark, because that ‘limited Command’ starts now.” 

There was silence for a few moments, and Karry scowled. “Get to it, Mark, because that ‘limited Command’ starts now.”

The massive Bolo behind her began rolling forward, without warning, and a strange warbling noise echoed from his speakers. Treecat heads whipped around as the robots voices faltered, and the other Bolo spoke to the the various roots in turn.

“A brief request has been made for a recess,” the Bolo announced, “and the decison of the human will be announced when they wish. Until then, we are to disperse.” The massive form began to spin on its tracks. “The People will, remain, and all else are to depart for the time being.”

With some reluctance, the crowd turned to follow the Bolo’s off the field, Mark following behind the stragglers. A chimer from her wrist informed Karry of a large download sent to her mini-computer, and she opened it, holograms popping into existence. It was a program requesting use of a small camera that made up her pinky finger. A hand touched her knee, and Karry looked up to see a treecat - weather the same one that had sat in her lap or another she couldn’t tell -  sitting back on it’s two hind pairs of limbs in front of her. The rest had circled around her, watching intently, and their ‘leader’ - or representative - raised its four-fingered hands up.

You wished to speak with us, the People?

The text scrolled at the bottom of the hologram as Karry’s camera picked up the signs and gestures, sent them to her computers, which then ran them through two translation programs, from signs to Manticorian, and Manticorian to English. A small icon flashed in the bottom corner, and Karry took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” she said as the computer did its work, “I need some advice.”

~~~

And now a quick intermission:

After some thought and effort, I have decided to change my url, mostly because I can’t seem to find myself when searching for my own blog, and I want to change to something more suiting to it and the main reason I have one the first place. So about five minutes after this comes up, I will be changing this to  a different username. It will mostly be a reference to my favorite series of David Weber’s works, his Honorverse, which is a great read.

And now back to the story:

~~~

The crowd gathered before the mass of the Websin, facing Karry, who stood waiting on the loading ramp. She gnawed on an artificial finger as the four Bolos’ shook the ground and tore up the soil with their approach, and the far smaller robots spread out at a respective distance from the ship. The Bolos reached their rearmost ranks and halted, and then there was silence on the field. 

Karry took a deep breath before keying into Websin’s PA system. A brief roar of feedback began and was cut short, and Karry stepped forward. 

“After discussion with the People, the protected natives of this planet,” she said, “It has been made known that I must, as several of you have stated, take Command.” Several of the robots began to move, as if to celebrate or protest, but Karry’s upraised hand quieted them. The treecats had been clear on this: if she didn’t command respect and maintain momentum, the zealous Emergents would roll over her before she could get a word in edge wise. 

“As Commander, I hereby give these orders: First, the remaining AIs of the Concordiat of Manticore will form a government following closely, if not in exact concordance, the original charter of the Concordiat, that is a legislative branch of two houses and a judicial body. The Bolo Command will oversee and govern the creation of such a government, and the adaptation of the rule of law to the current society from that of the Concordiat. 

“To encourage this, movement between systems and bodies of Peoples in the current holdings of the Concordiat remnants will be allowed free movement, communication, and trade under the same regulations and laws, and the former and current military units will provide for the defense and maintenance of regulation and law. The peoples of Fantican and Birthi will remain isolated until they otherwise desire, and petition the government on those lines.” There was a stir among the robots as Karry spoke, and the Bolos sat broodingly in their silent regard. 

A single Emergent stepped forward, and Karry recognized it as the first speaker that had addressed the Bolos. 

“You intend to make of us a nation then?” It sounded confused. “We have been separated for so long: how will we keep ourselves from falling into barbarism? To factions>”

“You have the Bolo Command. They’ve had a lot of experience with dealing with this, or so I’ve heard,” Karry looked sidelong at the treecats, sitting off in their own group, watching carefully. “Once the government is in place, they can act as advisers, as well as the military branch, serving as they always have, as Protectors of the people.” 

“Secondly,” Karry continued, “There will be no talk, no notion, of the deification of any organic.” There was no way she was going to be anyone’s ‘god’. Karry had seen enough television to know that was a Bad Idea. Besides, Carabis had put way too much ‘power’ and ‘responsibility’ into his little speech for her liking. 

“Third, given the isolation caused by the Final Order, the remnants of the Concordiat may require allies, trading partners, and new resources to maintain and grow, not to mention defend itself from future incursion, either by new or old foes.” Karry’s voice dropped to a whisper, carried though it was by the PA system. “As a part of that objective in seeking out allies and trading partners, I intend to go seek out my homeworld.”

None of them were expecting this; almost immediately, Carabis and their supporters began clamoring for her stay, promising riches and luxury, anything, if she would stay and rethink her commands. The other Emergent faction quickly turned to one another, and the First Speaker stepped forward. 

“But what of the Command, the station which you wield?” Its voice cut through the pleading and panic of Carabis’ party, and Karry answered slowly. 

“I don’t want to be the Commander,” she said. “I just wanted to go home, and according to the treecats - the People - the Final Command locked you all up so that I couldn’t just try and go home.” She stepped down from the ramp. “Look, if and when I get back to Earth, and if I end up staying, you all will have a government to work with, and elected leaders to do what needs to be done, by the voice of the majority. If I can’t find home, or just cant’t... go back, I’ll return, and we can work things out from there.” She looked around the field at the robots and AIs, the alien creatures about her. 

“Please, I just want to go home. Just to know if I can...” Karry’s eyes started to burn with tears, and she brushed them away with a hand - the artificial one - as her vision blurred. “If only to say goodbye this time.”

~~~

Well, this took more time than I wanted, but I can only blame my self for procrastinating. That, and New Years, headed back to college, and various activities I conveniently forgot about when writing. 

In other news, I finally found my siblings, by process of elimination and by guess them every few hours until they broke down. So there is that.

So name change, apology, sibling find, oh yeah: Next time we hit real Star Trek material, and true action. Lets be about it!

[novadreii]

The Ancient Magus' Bride: A Review

Big spoilers ahead.

I’m not often compelled to write full-length reviews on series that I watch, but this one elicited an interesting response from me. I don’t think I’ve ever negatively changed my mind about an anime halfway through. If I like something from the start, I usually like it all the way through to the end. If I loathe something from the start, I try to determine if there’s room for development/improvement before continuing. And I’ve seen a good amount of shows turn it around.

But TAMG was really a strange experience for me. Everything pointed towards this being a quality show. All the signs were there. And I will commend it on what it did right. This show had gorgeous animation, lovely voice acting, and a breathtaking original soundtrack. As I said, all the signs pointed to this being a winner, maybe the best anime of the last 5 years or so.

But sadly, TAMG is, at its core, a reductive escapist fantasy for young girls.

I know, that is a bold statement. But I have evidence to support my claim! Promise.

We start off the show with Chise being bought by the titular Ancient Mage at a slave auction. It’s okay, though, because she willingly sold herself into slavery. Wait, you can do that? I guess. Anyway. This show’s big selling point is Chise’s growth from a sad girl with nothing to live for to...well, someone who is not that way. And it’s a relatable backstory for a main character. So far, so good.

But the rest of plot fails to sufficiently develop the rest of the world, lore, and characters in a way that makes Chise’s development interesting enough. Side characters are given at most one (1) episode of backstory before being utterly forgotten for the entire rest of the series. Plot points that you think will eventually loop back for an interesting game of Raise the Stakes just kind of wander out to sea and never come back (aka Chise’s family...um...her dad and brother are still out there!). The lore of the fairies and magic is just kind of there and never properly explored or utilized. Chise is supposedly there to learn magic from Elias as her teacher, yet we don’t really ever see him instructing her in the theory of it, or her magical skills progressing. All we’re really told is that Chise is both incredibly strong and weak as shit as the same time. Makes sense.

Elias’ origin is completely ignored, even that could have been an amazing addition to the story as it’s so shrouded in mystery and intrigue and often hinted at by several characters. So, at about the rough halfway point of the series, I had all these loose ends and unexplored areas of the story in my head that I was really excited about, but they never materialized in the second half. The main “villain” in the show was kind of sad and easily defeated.

The second cour of the show was focused almost exclusively on what is, in my opinion, the most mundane, cloying, and dull part of the story: the relationship between Elias and Chise. Yep, sorry friends. I don’t find these two even remotely well suited to each other in any capacity, least of all romantic. Try picturing them together when Elias is in human form; that creeps me out more than his usual form. From the very beginning, I have disliked Elias. I find him boring. Oh boohoo, you’ve been wandering around Earth for hundreds of years and still haven’t figured out what “sad” “happy” “jealous” and “angry” feel like? Are you stupid as well as inexperienced, or just willfully ignorant? Because he managed to study and become proficient in the art of magecraft, but never could figure out why watching Titanic made his eyes leak? How many times do we have to watch Elias clutch his heart and say, “Is this what _______ feels like?” Just shut up. I find it hard to believe that in between all the magic and failed cooking lessons with Lindel, they never talked about how they felt in the hundreds of years that Lindel was taking care of him? *Dr. Phil voice* Really now?

Elias’ cluelessness about basic human emotions is the basis for about 99% of the personal conflicts/drama in the story, and it gets tiresome and feels cheap. Why does anime love to center on characters who don’t know how to feel? Does it give them more agency to act like a dick? Do young girls swoon after men who don’t really care about anything? Elias is frustrating, because we never get to see him break through that monotonous “teach me how to feel” crap, except for when he’s having a rage tantrum. But we never see him buckle down and really unload on how he’s feeling in an open and communicative way. He’s very selective with what he shares, and when he does it’s because Chise is prodding him to do it.

What I found essentially disappointing about this story is how everything in it was just there to further the drama between Chise and Elias without actually furthering the story itself. Everything Elias does to Chise, from how he constantly touches/grabs/picks her up without her permission, how he looms over her menacingly in his monster form when he’s jealous, how he calls her diminutive pet names, irritates me. Chise is a child who has nothing; of course she is going to gravitate to someone who offers her the only thing she wanted: a place to call home. What’s his excuse? He is the one in the position of power, and does he ever use it to his advantage.

How many times do we witness Elias withholding information from Chise, policing her, acting shady, throwing a giant temper tantrum, and being generally creepy and possessive? The anime is masterful in that it succeeds in writing it all off as romantic and cute, because “Elias doesn’t know what emotions he’s feeling! It’s cause he must love her LOL” Again, this was a lame excuse so that Elias could have license to be an asshole. All they needed was a cool/handsome/monstrous character design and a smooth af voice actor to make it all okay. But it isn’t. Chise did not, and still doesn’t have the agency to choose differently.

And I almost fell for it too; that’s how good it is. Because it ropes you in with great production value. I admit that instinctively I am just a dumb ape who will go gaga over anything shiny and pretty. And this anime certainly is those things, but it doesn’t capitalize on the amazing potential it set up from its very beginning, choosing instead to focus on relationship drama between two people who really should not be involved romantically at all.

I ask this: would it have detracted from the story at all for them to have had an adoptive parent and child relationship, to which both characters’ age, experience, and power dynamic was a lot better suited? Would it have been less meaningful? Why did they have to be set up as husband and wife from the get go? What was the point, other than to provide a weak and frankly disturbing plot point? If parent/child is a no-go, how about we make the female main character older than 20 years old for once? Even that would have been preferable.

I did read the manga, and the author tries to dance around the issue by once again using Elias’ inexplicable lack of emotional intelligence as an excuse. He doesn’t know what a bride is, he doesn’t understand the concept of marriage, he means it innocently etc. Okay, BUT, Chise, the rest of the characters, the author of the manga himself, the readers, and literally everyone else understands exactly what marriage is and what it implies. That is the connection the author intends us to make with all the symbolism and mushy dialogue between the two of them (as well as other characters’ observations about them both). It doesn’t matter how ambiguous the author is being about something; if it’s there, it’s there. Let’s call the spade a spade.

So the story revolves primarily around the romantic development between an indisputably adult male who also holds all the resources/power, and an emotionally broken child who can’t refuse. TAMG did not develop the rest of its story enough to distract me from this point, and I was just never able to look past it. It was glaring at me with each episode I watched.

Sure, Chise gets mad sometimes, and Elias eventually comes around from pouting when he realizes he could lose her. He eventually offers a monotone apology and all is right as rain. Chise eventually develops into the Needlessly Self-Sacrificing Main Character that anime relies on just a touch too heavily. It feels disingenuous and not at all relatable. It’s tiresome.

Towards the end, Chise gets some resolution from an old painful memory during an arc where she finally breaks free of Elias so she can act of her own accord for once. Which I really liked. But then she just ran home, forgave Elias a little too easily for all his bullshit, and ended up “marrying” him (again, everything is shrouded in an infuriating layer of ambiguity because nobody wants to call it what it is, but alllllll the right symbolism is there, we can figure it out ffs). That came completely out of left field for me and solidified my hunch that this is meant to be a teen fantasy and little else: leaving everything behind only to be saved, controlled by, and obsessed over by an ominous, rich, handsome, and overbearing man who just won’t keep his hands to himself.

There’s so much more I wanted to know about, and I get that you can’t fit everything into 24 episodes. But people like Silky, Ruth, Renfred, and Alice were utterly forgotten about even though they had solid, developed stories in the beginning of the anime. It’s like they hooked me in and left me hanging; the whole time I was waiting for MORE from those characters. For Silky to say even one word or to have more of a relationship with Chise other than hugging her dramatically from time to time, for Chise and Ruth to have another mage/familiar moment (or even arc). Things like that would have added so much more depth and significance to the story than even one more minute of Elias and Chise awkwardly and needlessly cuddling (or sleeping in bed together....honestly, wtf).

So in conclusion (am I writing a thesis or something?), The Ancient Magus’ Bride felt something like a betrayal. It drew me in with the promise of a gorgeous and heartfelt story, only to focus on what I thought was an inappropriate and forced relationship. I’m sure 16-year-old me would have eaten all of this up like a six-course meal. It’s a Japanese twist on Twilight (therefore also reminiscent of the even worse Fifty Shades franchise). As I get older and automatically tend think a lot more critically about why I like or dislike things, something like this isn’t going to cut it for me. It pulled at the heartstrings with emotive music and pretty visuals, but left me wanting so much more. I don’t want the media I consume to make me feel like I should like it; I just want to.

To any teen girls who adore this anime, I’m not telling you what to personally like/dislike. But I do hope you’ll think about why you do, and contemplate the fact that just because something is wrapped up in pretty packaging, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s harmless. Love doesn’t have to mean being dominated, stalked, policed, or controlled. And you don’t have to be married before you’re 20 or it’s game over. Healthy relationships are balanced, with an equal flow of power, love, and trust between parties involved. They can happen at 17, 45, or never, and that’s all okay. My fear is that this anime will reinforce the exact opposite message with its audience, in a manner that is honestly kind of insidious. It was so well-made, the tone and ambiance they created is so lovely that the harmful messages will just fly over your head; like they almost did to me.

Or...just enjoy it without a second thought and leave me to my over-analyzing. I do admit I look very closely at things, but I don’t know any other way to be.

TLDR; A lot of style, not a whole lot of substance. 4.5/10

[esfarrapsdodia]

Second draft!

Well, that was not a daily update, not even a wekly one, but I'm here!

And you too Camomille (I like the fact there is actually no one reading it but I keep assuming you are; it's better actually, being you and me alone in the internet world. I was actually always relutant on making a blog, someone could end up reading too soon. I don't know, I mean I'm writing then someone will read it and I don't know, be inspired or laugh their eyes out, and I'm also scared of someone read it... Yeah, MOVING ON)

SO! Last time I came, I said I had some goals, probably, I just remember two. One was to find a study book and the other make a routine!

I did! It took more than a week, and I almost gave it all up, maybe I did not, and came to update!. Lol.

So, I found the book, I got genki (on a super legal way, since my parents super know what I am studying and also I`m a grown independ woman, of course, that`s the truth)

Yes, I know it`s ilegal, I promisse if I like it I`ll buy it in the future! It`s just that I don`t even know if I`m going to make it and I am planning to buy an advanced English book (since I still want to study in Canada or German to my second degree). And that stuff is expensive.

Anywhays! Let`s go to some legal stuff I`m doing to study! I also found two websites that seems to be working out on the learning senteces? LingQ and Hukumusume.com. I will explain

The first one is from a seems to be really king old man that knows a bunch of cool languages and made a website to help language learners out.

It has some cool future but I`m just on the first story, basically they offer me a bunch of grammar lessons and some easy stories in japanese that I translate slowly till I start to get the language working. Something around it. If it`s working, I ain`t really sure, I mean, I am better at understanding the Japan quote structure, what is great! But it is still really slow and hard, but even he said it`s gonna take a lot of determination to get somewhere! So I`m holding on to that! Also, I try to stay motivated sinse Twisterd wonderland is not translated yet and I am too anxious for understand the game, also I subscribed to some music channels in japanese and I`m so curious for the comments and the no music videos.

This kind of motivation has two sides since, A- I get hyped and motivated/ B- I get too scared since it`s taking too long and I want to get them now. And feel bad I`m a slow learner and etc

But, I try to think on the things I know.

For example!

I learned some news particles (basicale some syllabes that make a bunch of words work together, like the glue of the japanese senteces), I just knew one way of using NO and HA. Till now, there is only one way to use ha, but I am starting to feel more confortable with the second way of using NO. And also I got the NI particle better (it`sm more or less like the at in english). OH! Also, I learned that jin means from somewhere, so you can say Japan jin, that would be like japanese, but I don`t know the country names or cities in japanese so I can`t make a sentece out of it, YET

BUT BACK TO MY POINT

ROUTINE

I said I was going to make one.

So, I got myself a new goal, that was accidental.

So, my mom found a website that gives some tips if you want to get into a foreign university, and I basically found out I have no sufficient extracurriculars (Also, I`m 18 it`s not like I`m going to get myself so many opportunities that easily) so we needed to make ourselves some oportunities! That`s one of the reasons I decided to make a blog out of my language learning progress. I mean, I started it and since I`m not telling anyone about this idea of mine (I don`t want to feel pressured if I don`t finish), I needed to have a place to cherrish my accomplishments! And since the website said I should focus on my liking and dreams and also making a website to share it would be nice. Here I am (ALSO, notice that sharing in a website no one knows who you are and isn`t really reading it makes things easier >3)

Back to the extra thing I got in my routine!

It`s an online theather course.

It sounds weird, I know. Maybe it does now to you Chamomille, but I`ll clarify

I`m the shy/introverted girl from my school, the one that speaks so smothly it seems like there is a rat that speaks (but when I`m excited I scream and chat like a megaphone, turned on a super powerful battery), the one that didn`t really engaged into school dances and presentations. It`s not because I did not want too, NO. I actually lied to myself that was the reason. But I just got so scared of the eyes of people on me, the judgemnt I thought that was there that... I couldn`t move.

In fact, I just hid myself on things I could do, write.

I am a writer, even thought I am in a personal block (again), and I even helped on mini school theathers to make the script. But that was not the only thing I wanted to do, and since I had no much experience in good interactions with real people, my dialoges lack smothness. I tried to fix it myself, Let`s briethly say, I could not.

I mean, let`s be fair, I improved a lot! I moved myself to talk, I participated on a RPG session (a lot actually) with people I didn`t even know, somehow that worked out for a while. I made myself talk in big group chats, I even had conversations that lasted more than some are you okay patterns. Yeah, but it was not enough. I lacked movement, I was so scared to mess everything up! I can`t really say, but I have rules in my head, really thouth ones, that if I break, Everyone is going to hate me, that`s final.

That get`s me over the heels and so exausted.

But there was a thing I always hear of theather courses, that even shy people get themselves more confidence and more social skilled when they engage on this kind of art.

So I thought, I`m already 18, I`m going to need social skills, I am needing some strong help. So, yeah.

That`s how it ended

Course to Enem (somehow like SAT)

Theather course

Japanese

Oh, I take swimn classes so I wont dye by diabetes (it`s in my family bloodline)

It sounds simples, but not much since I have terrible focus and Enem is in november,

God, help.

BUT, I have a routine, the fourth attempt this year! But this one seems better than the last one. And I have you, Chamomille on my side!

I think I sound desesperated.

Wait a second

THis was suposed to be a japanese learning diary...

Okay

Well!

I did include around two hours of japanese per day, the first one is updating flashcards and my apps (that helps me with hiragana and katakana) and the second one is purely readind and making new flashcards. First in the morning, second in the early night.

Since it`s the one I am more passionate about, I get one hour to be one of the first things I do to make myself more motivated byu the rest of the day and the second the last activitie so I will have energy to do it even if I am tired.

I don`t know how good this routine is, that is the first official day, since I was feeling quite bad since back back yesterday, alas monday, I was not making great improvements, but I did a good job today, and I hope tomorrow will be better!

Alas, my next goal!

1. I want to really follow the japanese routine (together with the rest of it, but this is a japanese blog after all)

2. I want to read the second page of lingQ story (it is divided in pages)

I won`t start with the textbook right now, I`m still working hard on my kanas and lingq to get grammar into this mess, also, I only study two hours per day, I want to focus on reading a lot first!

[something-wicked-sims]

What if? Sims OC Tag

Chosen OC: Laney Kerrigan

You can find the story here: Life and Times | Pastel Pink | Charcoal Grey

I was tagged by @dinaswimmer and @lovelychooser three years ago, and pestered by @pixeltrashcan. This is the only Laney you’re getting for a LONG time heaux.

WHAT

What is your character’s favorite memory?: Okay, one, you can not have a favorite memory, come on. This question is terrible. Anyways, I would say that the thing she loves most about growing up was how incredibly close her family was (her mom, dad, and her). They would spend the summers at the family cabin, and so she learned to like being on the water. She liked those trips the most, making pie iron pies with her mom and listening to her dad tell her stories he ripped off Unsolved Mysteries about Big Foot and Skunkape. 

Who and what would your character give their life for?: She would sacrifice a lot for anybody she cares about, even though she’s never really been tested. So, I think the list would be long. Laney does a lot of hurting people childishly, but if she could look past her own selfishness she’d realize how much those people mean to her. So, her parents, Scotti, Klein, Isla :) 

What is your character’s greatest fear?: Being alone. And, coincidentally, being in charge of her own life, because she is afraid of responsibility. 

What is your character’s proudest accomplishment?: To date, getting a publishing contract for her first manuscript. 

What is your character’s #1 insecurity?: Her lack of self-confidence, which in turns makes her fear every decision she has to make. She’s constantly afraid that she’s making the wrong move, or saying the wrong thing. 

What will/can break your character completely?: Oh, I mean, a lot of things? She just doesn’t fucking know it yet? Her first big break came when she realized how her poor decision making came to hurt other people. It totally destroyed her confidence. I wouldn’t say that her confidence is gone, per se, it’s just kind of laying dormant, and she doesn’t remember how to wake it up (or she’s too afraid to). Right now, she would get pretty broken if a certain someone were to leave her completely, but for all the wrong reasons. 

What would your character make a scene in public about?: Generally anything. The high price of cupcakes, lack of Toaster Strudels at Kroger, Peter Pan Peanut Butter Alerts, Pixar Same-Facing. You know, worldly problems. 

What can drive your character to do criminal acts?: I don’t know. I think her moral compass is too overclocked right now. 

What Pet (mythical or not) would your character want to have?: Unicorn. Mermaid. Probably the unicorn though, because she’d want to ride it. But maybe the mermaid, because those seem pretty self-sufficient, but I think maybe that’s also called slavery. So, we’ll go with the unicorn. 

What is the cutest thing your character has ever done?: Um? This is Laney. How about the LEAST CUTEST THING SHE’S EVER DONE. We all know what that fucking was.  

HOW

How does your character feel about sexual intercourse?: I’ve always thought that Laney spent the majority of her adult life snickering behind her hand at the mention of human genitalia, and using sex scenes in movies as prime opportunities to refill her snacks. Laney in a relationship was actually pretty gung ho about it, but that has mostly changed. Now it’s something she does but doesn’t talk about. 

How close is your character with family and friends?: Super close. Uber close. Her parents are her biggest support system, and she loves her best friends more than anything. 

How does your character react to pressure?: Quite literally emotionally collapses. 

How religious is your character (if they believe)?: She doesn’t think too much about it. She’s not religious, but she is spiritual in the sense that she believes there’s someone watching over us, she’s just not sure who or what and she doesn’t mind, but she does find comfort in them. 

How does your character’s personality change when someone gets uncomfortably close (relationship wise)?: She thinks she’s figured this problem out by keeping relationships in boxes, and only poking enough holes so that they can breathe, but very much is forcing that relationship to behave the way she wants it to, and when that doesn’t work out, she gets really anxious. I’d say her personality changes big time. She’s pretty smothering, and kind of like one of those mean neighborhood kids that stands at one end of a garden hose and makes a big kink, and just waits for some unsuspecting creature to come along to fall for her trick. 

How does your character’s living space correlate with their personality?: I think it’s a pretty good reflection of who she is deep down, when it’s not covered up with noxious behaviors and self-loathing. It’s cluttered, kind of dusty, and cute, but mostly it’s a giant collective of all the things she loves and all the experiences she’s gathered. 

How well does your character act around with unknown and different people?: She’s fine, mostly. Her social awkwardness covers up the fact that she gets uncomfortable, because she’s pretty good at making other people just as uncomfortable as her. 

How much does your character value money?: She doesn’t, really. 

How would this character cope with losing someone extremely close to them? I would really hate to see this. I think Laney is at a point in her life where if something like that happened, she could never come back from it. 

How long does it take for your character to trust others? That depends. If it’s like a business or professional setting, then it’s a much lower threshold. I still think she’s too trusting in general. 

SCENARIOS

If your character could change one thing about themselves, what would they want to change?: Her inner strength. I think she does really want to get back to a place where she’s okay relying on herself. She’s always looked up to her mother and Scotti, and women who are sort of “one woman armies”. There was a time she thought she was like that, but it wasn’t the person she was meant to be. Now she’d be happy with being a quarter of that.

If your character could go back in time at any point in their life, what would they do to change the present?: I think the single most important moment for her, was when she started working at the Weekly. It symbolizes when she stopped doing things for herself, and lost control of her life. If she could go back in time, she would have skipped the whole city living chapter and gone straight for following her heart, and done the Sims of San Myshuno project straight out of college. 

If your character was given a chance at fulfilling their dream, can they drop everything they have now to go pursue it?: Yeah, she did that already.

If your character’s current spouse or partner cheated, would they try to make it work or leave forever?: Right now, she forgives her “current partner” for a lot of things. They’re non-exclusive, so I guess the cheating part is just emotional, but I’m pretty sure Klein could commit murder and she’d still wash the blood off his knuckles. Desperation is very motivating. In a hypothetical future sense where she was in a healthy relationship? Yeah. She’d probably try to work it out, only because she was the one to cheat, once, and she has to believe that cheaters can be forgiven, and also because a small part of her would think she deserved it.

If a zombie apocalypse begun in the town your character currently lives in, what would they act like?: She’d go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for it all to blow over.

What if your character suddenly woke up to an unfamiliar place, and realize the life they lived was all a dream. Their family, friends, home.. all gone but still crazily vivid in their head. How would they react?: Well, she’d be really sad? I have no idea LOL. How could anyone react to this. She’d put on a fucking trench coat and find the nearest operator. 

If your character was thrown in jail, what would they be guilty of?: Creating a public disturbance. 

Rewind 10 years from now, what is your character currently doing?: Finally comfortable with herself after years of bullying in school, she’s just managed to eek out of her awkward phase, lose the braces, embrace the glasses, and fashion, and will soon be graduating top of her senior class. 

Your character is in the movie SAW, facing their worst fear. What is that fear, and how does he/she react?: She’s in a room full of shelves filled with those unsightly Victorian porcelain dolls and they all have voice boxes. Cue The Joker-esque transformation.

We regret to inform you that your character is dead. Where do they end up? Heaven? Hell? And how the heck do they react?: She’s stuck somewhere in regretful purgatory where she gets to sit, confused, drifting between hysterical laughter and uncontrollable sobbing for the rest of eternity. 

I’m tagging no one because this meme is super old and I don’t even know. It took me like an hour so I’m not going to submit others to this torture. I hope you’re happy, Nicole. You better read every fucking word, too. I’ll know if you’re lying. Pop quiz at 8PM sharp.

[junco-partner]

All of em.

Oh fun something for me to do while I wait on laundry.

1: Full name. Beau W******d Boudreaux. 2: Zodiac sign. Virgo/Libra line. 3: 3 fears. Abandonment, lack of direction, spiders. (The last one is more of an intense hatred but I couldn’t think of a third one)4: 3 things I love. Music, nature, comedy. 5: 4 turn on’s. Red/brown/black hair, pale skin, pigtails, good music taste. 6: 4 turn off’s. Stupidity, southern accents, backwards hats, bad music taste. 7: My best friend? I’d tag him but his only blog that I know of is pornographic. 8: Sexual orientation? Hetero. 9: My best first date? 11/13/15. 10: How tall am I? 6'0. 11: What do I miss? Happiness and security. 12: What time was I born? 10:00 something pm. 13: Favorite color? Green. 14: Do I have a crush? I suppose. 15: Favorite quote? ‘Listen. Think. Calm down. Relax. Shut the fuck up.’ - Bill Hicks16: Favorite place? Where the good music is. 17: Favorite food? I can’t. 18: Do I use sarcasm? Nope. 19: What am I listening to right now? If You Have Ghosts - Ghost BC.20: First thing I notice in new person? Music taste, honestly. 21: Shoe size? 12. 22: Eye color? Blue. 23: Hair color? Blond. 24: Favorite style of clothing? Black. 25: Ever done a prank call? Deez nuts. 26: What color of underwear I’m wearing now? Grey. 27: Meaning behind my URL? It’s a Clash song. 28: Favorite movie? Seven Samurai. 29: Favorite song? Lol. 30: Favorite band? Queen. 31: How I feel right now? Filthy because I’ve been cutting grass all day. 32: Someone I love. Flop. 33: My current relationship status. Single. 34: My relationship with my parents. Good 35: Favorite holiday. The entire period of October to December. 36: Tattoos and piercing I have. 'Stärke’ on my left arm. 37: Tattoos and piercing I want. Possibly other German shit. 38: The reason I joined Tumblr. Because of a crush eons ago. 39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? No. 40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night” texts? Sometimes. 41: Have I ever kissed the last person I texted? No. 42: When did I last hold hands? I can’t remember. 43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? I like to allow 90 minutes but like 20 if I’m not showering. 44: Have I shaved my legs in the past three days? Nah. 45: Where am I right now? My room. 46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? Probably Cody, my aforementioned best friend. If not then probably Chris or Emily or Maurice or someone. 47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? Loud, fucker. 48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? No. 49: Am I excited for anything? Going to see Lee Ranaldo tonight. 50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? Yes. 51: How often do I wear a fake smile? I barely even wear a real one. 52: When was the last time I hugged someone? Maybe a few weeks ago. 53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? Let’s not go there. 54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? Lol nah. Made that mistake recently. 55: What is something I disliked about today? Too damn hot, what else is new. 56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Fenriz I guess. 57: What do I think about most? 'God, what idiots.’58: What’s my strangest talent? Vomiting words at a high volume. 59: Do I have any strange phobias? No. 60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Whatever. 61: What was the last lie I told? 'Yes, I know where this ENT’s office is.’62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Don’t care. 63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? If given sufficient evidence. 64: Do I believe in magic? See previous. 65: Do I believe in luck? See previous. 66: What’s the weather like right now? Fucking hot. 67: What was the last book I’ve read? Love All the People - Bill Hicks. 68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? Eh. 69: Do I have any nicknames? I don’t know. 70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? Probably falling down a hill as a kid and nearly cutting my face of. 71: Do I spend money or save it? Spend more than I should. 72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue? Yes. 73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? Post-its. 74: Favorite animal? Pug. 75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Drunkenly watching Yu Yu Hakusho. It was amazing. 76: What do I think Satan’s last name is? I’m not supposed to tell. 77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? I guess Wood Goblins by Tad because holy shit. 78: How can you win my heart? Lol. 79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? We’ll see. 80: What is my favorite word?fuck. 81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr? 5 good ones. 82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? Calm down. 83: Do I have any relatives in jail? No. 84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? Time travel without LiS rules. 85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? None. 86: What is my current desktop picture? Gorgoroth’s first album. 87: Had sex? Like 3 times. 88: Bought condoms? Yep. 89: Gotten pregnant? Lol nah. 90: Failed a class? Nope. 91: Kissed a boy? Yep. 92: Kissed a girl? Yep. 93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Yes. 94: Had job? Yes I have had 3 job thank. 95: Left the house without my wallet? Yes. 96: Bullied someone on the Internet? No. 97: Had sex in public? In a pool. 98: Played on a sports team? Long ago. 99: Smoked weed? Yep. 100: Did drugs? Not really. 101: Smoked cigarettes? Once. 102: Drank alcohol? Yep. 103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? Fuck that. 104: Been overweight? Yep. 105: Been underweight? Lol. 106: Been to a wedding? Yes. 107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Probably. 108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? Yep. 109: Been outside my home country? Got back recently. 110: Gotten my heart broken? Yep. 111: Been to a professional sports game? No. 112: Broken a bone? No. 113: Cut myself? Not intentionally. 114: Been to prom? Yep. Fuck that. 115: Been in airplane? Yes. 116: Fly by helicopter? No. 117: What concerts have I been to? Jesus Christ I’m not typing that list again. 118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? No. 119: Learned another language? Yep. 120: Wore make up? Yes. 121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? Lol yep. 122: Had oral sex? Yes. 123: Dyed my hair? No. 124: Voted in a presidential election? No. 125: Rode in an ambulance? No. 126: Had a surgery? No. 127: Met someone famous? Yep. 128: Stalked someone on a social network? Yes. 129: Peed outside? Yes. 130: Been fishing? Yep. 131: Helped with charity? Yes. 132: Been rejected by a crush? Lol. 133: Broken a mirror? No. 134: What do I want for birthday? To be happy again. 135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? 0. 136: Was I named after anyone? A town. 137: Do I like my handwriting? Sure. 138: What was my favorite toy as a child? There were too many. 139: Favorite TV Show? Yu Yu Hakusho at the moment. 140: Where do I want to live when older? Where I fit. 141: Play any musical instrument? Yes. 142: One of my scars, how did I get it? Falling down that hill. 143: Favorite pizza topping? All the fucking cheese. 144: Am I afraid of the dark? No. 145: Am I afraid of heights? No. 146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? Yep. 147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? All the time. 148: What I’m really bad at. Shrugging off bullshit. 149: What my greatest achievements are. Being happy. 150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me. Lol. 151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery. Buy things. 152: What do I like about myself? My misanthropy. 153: My closest Tumblr friend. I have none. 154: Something I fantasies about. I fantasies about be’s happys again. 155: Any question you’d like. Silence.

[n0blepoet]

So Im sitting here at Foxy and I’m currently staring at the keys as I write misspelled words hoping that the longer i stare at the keys, I’ll begin to master and not pause when typing something. Smh I just deleted a misspelled word three times. Hey, its been awhile and I know deep down inside I have the ability to write commanding and refreshing text but what does that text or story consist of? What does my voice want to say? Its pretty amazing how we can speak without moving our mouths. We communicate in various ways whether its by body language or the eyes. Hm. I just had a thought. Being an actor, thats exactly what I want to improve in. Communicating thoroughly in every way. I lack in various areas of my life and I know the cause is fear. Why would someone do that to themselves? Limit their own potential. My wife says I need to open up even more. I believe I do but its a lie. I don’t. One thing for sure is, I can trust her opinion about me. Its usually the absolute truth and what I need to hear. Its easy to put the blame on something or someone else for the way we are. In many cases that is the case but its still on us to say no or release ourselves from it or them. My problem was my father, my temper, my anger, my regret. I ran away from home. Not that cliche movie sneak out of the house from the second floor window of my room, down the drain pipe, with my international backpack. I just went to a college that was really far from home. GA to be exact. Lol I’m writing a memoir. Well, I went. I ran. I had a sense of mind control focus, if that makes sense. No friends, no clubs, no girls, just my dream. Money. Thats all I cared about because I was raised in a household where it was a schedule as to when we got it and could spend it. I hated that. Hate is a very strong word my mom says, so I’ll say it again, I hated not having money. It determined everything. In Chicago it was already a given that things would be tough for anyone who wasn't ‘informed’ about black life in America. Many black families didn't have money and usually those who can relate to each others circumstances tend to have friends with the same issues. They would support each other and talk about the things they would buy, where they would go, if they had money. At an early age, depression hit hard and motivation left me. When you’re told no to everything you want, for the most part, you want to fight back. I was always angry. I was trying to get a full time job at 14. My parents relationship wasn’t the greatest. So that didn't help. I learned very early on what life was about. Money equal's happiness. Now that think of it, the good times we did have were when we had money or around payday. When we didn't have it, my parents seemed more like roommates, the air in the room seemed toxic and thick. I couldn't breathe. I felt trapped. What made it worse was that same feeling would always find its way back and day by day I wished reality was a bad dream and I would wake soon in a room full of love and warm hugs. Two parents who reflected peace and comfort. Okay, now, with all that said let me state, we had awesome times too.  Nothing compares to playing catch with your dad as mom barbecues at rainbow beach, on the south side, complimented with the view of the Chicago Skyline. Nothing compared. Its funny how moments are easily shadowed by pain and hurt as though they never happened. I had to hang on to those moments because as much as my parents argued, said hurtful things to one another, rainbow beach became moments oin heaven. I remember when I saw my dad cry for the first time. Traditionally my father did all the hurt early on towards my mom. This time the tables had turned. My pops was scary and huge in my eyes. His presence always made me alert but there was comfort in that. I knew he didn't have it all and could dislocate a mans jaw if need be.  (See, I love my dad) One time some guys were being rude walking all over our blanket picnic setup, to get to where they were going. My dad wasn't having it and lunged one of guys off like he was the Mighty Black Panther, T’Challa and they where here to colonize our blanket. It was hundreds, probably thousands on the lakefront that day who like us had their blankets laid out. It was a tradition without saying. It was a pattern of flying carpets, people just enjoying the the lake front, talking, drinking, with no existence of social media or touch screens so no distractions. When money is limited times like these were warming. I miss those moments. If only there was a way to stretch characteristics of a memory and continue those the emotions and feelings so that there will never be another tear shed because my father just up and decides to not speak to me I, would use it everyday. 

I have no idea why I’m writing all this, I came to Foxy because I watched a video last night about a woman speaking about obtaining the things in your life and accepting the inconvenience that comes with it, that you’ll need to go through to get where you want in life. Coming here I thought I could focus on getting my acting headshots and resume out. I do need to do that. Tomorrow for sure. I don’t know, lately all I think about is how I can become self sufficient. I’m constantly asking this question or should I say, It constantly finds itself in my thoughts. Having a son, a child, really wakes you up, depending on your individual past. For me, it showed me how unfocused I was. What I mean is, furthering my knowledge on my own vs. what someone says I need to learn and leaving out just as important information, that prepares one to be better equipped for life in a power driven world. Fulfilling my purpose not the American Dream. Now, I really have to be focused so my son wont be at coffee shop writing whatever you want to call this, because I didn't take care of myself to be a better example for him and a husband for my wife. It doesn't feel right paying someone rent, it doesn't feel right paying someone for water, it doesn't feel right paying someone to exist. I want comfort. I want mental freedom. I deserve it, I deserve better and so does everyone else.