#he's too apathetic to care about any virus

[coffeedrawscircles]

I'm not sure if Tweeks gonna make it through this quarantine. He's sure to have a heart attack the instant he hears someone cough. At least he's got Craig, who ventures out daily to grab a coffee through the Tweek Bros (apparently existent) drive through window. Hope everyone is doing okay! Being stuck in the house is definitely dull. But there's always SOUTH PARK AND VIDEO GAMES HAHAHAAHAAA THAT IS MY LIFE RIGHT NOW.

#South Park #Craig Tucker #Tweek tweak #tweek x craig #creek #quarentine #coronavirus #covid 19 #Tweek bought ALL the toilet paper #no virus is gonna catch him in his ULTIMATE TOILET PAPER FORTRESS #Craig is a good boi #he's too apathetic to care about any virus #he doesn't even care when he appears in some Incan prophecy as some sort of God-like descendent #Craig has no cares #Tweek has no chill #coffee has much boredom #make time pass faster #coffee rings

[starprin101]

Soundscream Week

Day 4: Ideal

Nothing is perfect.

It's a nice thought to have, that the object in question could be any sort of ideal. But the reality is that it's not. Nothing is.

Starscream had learnt that early in his life, and it made him feel wiser than everyone else. He put himself on a pedestal because he claimed to understand it.

Oh? Someone can't do their job properly? Well, nothing is perfect.

Oh? The Vehicons had to blow up a small portion of energon to attack an Autobot? Well, nothing's perfect.

Oh? Megatron's back after being conked out for weeks and is just as mad as ever although it might be worse? Well-... well actually that could've gone better.

But the point is: that was the law of the universe, nothing is perfect.

Except Soundwave.

When he does his tasks, multiple at a time I remind you, he completes all of them flawlessly. When he goes on the rare mission, he always -always- achieves his goal. And when complications get in the way, he successfully maneuvers around them with ease.

Soundwave is the very definition of the word and that's why Starscream despised him. One of the reasons. Another one was how despite that, he still admired him.

There was a sort of... fluidity to his actions. Every click of a button, every gliding step, every movement he made mesmerized anyone who watched. That just infuriated him more.

That's how it used to be, when it was just simple mutual hatred. Now, it had become so much more complicated there couldn't be a label. It wasn't terrible per say, it just frustrated him how confusing it was.

Sometimes they were nice to each other, like they were friends, and other times it was that same rivalry from the beginning, though that was happening a lot less.

And it was all because of Soundwave's favour.

After that night he thought they weren't going to do it again. Obviously it was just a one time thing for his apparent sake.

But they did. Again, and again, and again, and again. He doesn't even know how it happens anymore, it just does.

But afterwards, that's usually the strangest time he experiences. The first few times they'd lie there, mentally gather themselves, then leave and carry on as before. But then Soundwave started cuddling him. Starscream just went stiff the first time, not knowing what to make of it, and occasionally tried to push him away only to give up and just take it. But the more it happened, the more comfortable he became. Then they started talking to each other. It was nothing important, they just spoke whatever was on their mind. It's fun.

Now was just like that.

"- and then, when he's at his weakest, I'll fire the missile and BOOM!" Starscream waved his arm in an arc above him, careful not to slap Soundwave in the process. The two were lying in the TIC's berth, wrapped around each other. Starscream's arm under Soundwave's head like a pillow, Soundwave's arms holding his chassis close, and a pede each hooking together. Neither seemed to mind their position.

"Incorrect."

Starscream's smile dropped and he looked back at Soundwave. "And why's that?"

"Where will the missile even come from!?"

Starscream frowned. That was in his voice. "When did I say that?"

"You're changing the subject Starscream."

He smirked. Lowering his arm back around Soundwave's waist, he continued. "Well, obviously the missile will come from the Nemesis!"

"Which is already keeping the Autobots at bay."

"No, the Vehicons are taking care of them!"

"Which are also supplied from the Nemesis. -and you're already halfway across the planet."

"Have you forgotten we have a groundbridge?"

"We have a limited amount of drones. Statistics show we'll eventually run out- and the Autobots will come to the rescue- before you complete your plan."

He glared at him. "... well obviously there are going to be a few holes in my plans. I hope you know that's not the best I can come up with. It was made up on the spot."

"Of course it was."

Starscream playfully slapped his aft and Soundwave sent an outraged burst of feedback. He chuckled. "Alright then smart mouth, how would you defeat Optimus Prime?"

"That is not my interest."

"Then say, for the sake of hypothetical, he destroyed Megatron. What's your plan of action?"

"Revenge is a waste of time."

"Just try to indulge me will you?"

Soundwave fell silent, considering it, then planning it. The silence allowed Starscream to hear the gentle purring of Soundwave's engine.

The first time he heard that, he doubled over laughing, calling him a cat. He laughed until his throat hurt, though that was mainly caused by Soundwave throttling him. Afterwards he stopped laughing (as hard) whenever it happens. Even now he let out a small snicker. Soundwave's head shot up and he could feel hidden optics glaring threateningly at him.

"What?" He asked innocently. He'd never say it out loud, but it was... endearing when he made that noise. It was almost comforting.

Soundwave just answered with an image flickering on his visor, with a whole description next to it. Starscream wasn't going to read the whole thing, but he got the basics. "A virus? I hate to sound rude, but viruses and poisons are a coward's weapons."

Images of the rest of Team Prime surrounded the virus, and Starscream understood. "Ah, take the lackeys out of the picture. You could infect the medic first so they won't find a cure in time. Do we have any viruses like that?"

"If I did I would have used it by now."

"Good point. And what of Prime? Are you going to fight him or something?" A nod. "Megatron can't even defeat him one on one! I must ask what you'll do that's so different."

"Lord Megatron is a great fighter- but he lacks tactic." Starscream's gasp was comically exaggerated.

"Soundwave! I have never heard you speak so ill of our great and glorious leader! How could you disregard such a wonderful, powerful-" A smack to his head and he burst out laughing.

"Heheh. But- but in all seriousness, I have never heard you say anything bad about Megatron before."

"I only speak the truth. -an' the truth is he be bat-shit crazy!"

Starscream laughed again at that ridiculous voice, whatever on Earth that was, and pulled him closer.

"My my! Is this Soundwave finally showing his true colours?" He chuckled, while said bot just tucked his head under Starscream's, probably to hide his (already hidden) embarrassment.

"You will not repeat what happened."

"I know. 'What happens in the berth, stays in the berth'." He recited.

The chuckling died down, and he couldn't help but think.

"Soundwave... if you really think he's gone mad, and his plans are ridiculous, why don't you stop him? He listens to you doesn't he?"

"Once he starts, you can't stop him."

He hummed. "I suppose that's true."

A moment of silence, then his smile came back. "Well, if you ever feel like it's time to get rid of Megatron and anoint me as the new leader, we could always team up." Soundwave hit him again and he laughed.

"I'll leave the offer open if you change your mind." He thought he would receive another smack, but instead Soundwave just buried himself in Starscream's chassis.

"Hm. Now would be a good time to recharge actually. It'll be suspicious if you're late tomorrow." His chronometer told him it was around midnight. He nuzzled his helm on top of Soundwave's.

"Goodnight Cat." A static huff with a knee jabbing his thigh, and he snickered.

Soundwave is phenomenal at whatever he does. And as an individual bot? Who purrs, and cuddles and, apparently, has the tendency to drop his apathetic act and be ridiculous? He'd say Soundwave is still ideal, though this time Starscream wouldn't mind it too much.

#transformers #transformers prime #Soundwave #Starscream #soundstar #soundscream #fluff and humour #:) #it's good enough

[lixiefe]

↪ get you the moon - l.fl

songs: kodaline- all i want             all my friends are fake- tate mcrae

to my bub @ruellelix​ , consider this a very much late birthday gift. Thank you for being born as such a beautiful, amazing and outstanding human being. And thank you for being my beloved moot. uwu. it isn’t really good but hey, i spent time and effort on this djhbcsj.

You were like winter, cold but with a touch of softness. Like winter, incoming with a pretend intimidation but also with a touch of sheer kindness. And just like winter, you froze whatever was around you with chatters and emanated shivers, but also the sunlight in your presence was heavenly, warm, fresh and comforting.

It was so, so unlikely of someone like Lee Felix to be so irrevocably attracted to you. His friends would probably laugh their stomach out if he suddenly told them he liked you, the ice-cold oddity of the classroom. They wouldn’t believe him at first, would imply that he was joking instead. Because Felix preached about the kind of girl he wanted every other day. He had an ideal type, yes, and the dictionary opposite of you. He’s known to love the kind who exude warmth and positivity like a contagious virus, someone who’d compliment his sunshine with a similarly bright sunshine of theirs. Someone who smiled ear to ear on everyday basis and sought fun in the littlest of entertainment, making the best of it- with everyone. Someone he could get the moon for.

But you, no, you were not like that at all. You didn’t want the moon or anything else in that case. You were unpredictable and spoke words like you were giving out a thousand dollars per word. You were incongruous in every way, and so so mysterious- nothing surmise-able and nothing transparent. It was like you walked with a wall around you that shielded you from all possible angles and quite robustly, was immobile. You were also cruelly honest, always stating the truth with a few small-spoken words- even if that meant that the recipient could be hurt. There was no fun that could be associated with you, much less required amusement and much much less any emotions.

But one day, the Lee Felix saw you hidden behind tall bookshelves and - giggling. It intrigued him like nothing else; so he found himself very much expectantly watching you speak. You were smiling, strange and almost unimaginable, but surely, there was an apparent smile on your face. it was peculiar, yes, but so beautiful- unlike any other expressions he’s seen and any sincerity he’s felt. Thorns nipped at his guts when he thought you might be talking to your lover, or potential lover, or a crush, or just someone you were so visibly in love with.

Felix had believed to have outstanding wit, however, he was wrong. So very wrong.

“Yes mother, I will. I will take care of myself, you don’t need to worry, alright?” you spoke into the phone, eyes almost teary and a touching smile adorning your face. There was grievance, lament, and gloom but more than that, there was relief, care and love. A type of purity so rare in these days where people cared more than less about others.  

“Make sure to take your medicines properly, yeah? You cannot miss them at any chance. I have a note of which medicine to take when taped on the fridge so you remember.” You say, desperation evident in the force you grip your cellphone with.

And then you chuckle into the phone, a tear escaping your irises freely. Your hair sways along with the way you nod you head, mumbling continuous ‘hmm’s to your mother’s interrogations- as Felix could guess.

“Goodbye, mom. I’ll call you again after the night shift,” you say, attempting to cut the call. But Felix watches you bring the phone back to your ears, listening attentively to what your mother had to say next. Your brows clear up as a considerable care erupts in them, and you reply, “Alright, I will sleep today. I’ll call you tomorrow then. Bye mom. Take care!”

With that you cut the call and kept your phone on the window-side table. You then hastily wiped the dry tears away and subtly shifted your lips at the corners- as if wanting to erase any trace of the previous smiles. The compassionate, careful person Felix had seen on the phone, and the impassive, empty-eyed person he saw now are two different beings- yet merged into one.

It was established that you weren’t apathetic in the slightest- on the contrary, Felix would describe you as one of those emotional and impossibly caring people; the type who’d do and sacrifice anything for the people they cherish.

So maybe yes, you were like the winter. But not the inconveniences, you were like the security and balminess of the winter. Like the oblique sunrays of the afternoon among the chilling cold; bitter, but still adjacent with rays of warmth.

You were like the winter’s sun, one that maybe didn’t match Felix’s one but then again too much similarity is scary and refracting. He realized he didn’t want a depiction of himself in a partner, he wanted solidarity and compatibility. It was as people said, opposites attract.

You were the winter’s sun, and Felix- he was the summer’s sun. Without you won’t be harmony, and without you won’t exist compulsory equilibrium. You were the candle and he was the fire- burning with passion and de-solidifying your pillar-like solid heart with his heat. All he needed to do was get under that adamant wall of introversion and breakthrough into your comfort zone.

And somehow, he managed to do just that after exactly six months of meandering behind you and supposedly annoying you till you told him to ‘fuck off’ in the rudest possible way. But much to Felix’s bewilderment, you grew to care for him like how he heard you in a certain conversation. You appeared worried and nagged at him when he didn’t eat his meals properly, or when he didn’t pay necessary heed to his pre-examination fevers, or when he spent money buying banana milk for you after lunch- much uncharacteristic of your natural persona.

Felix was beyond thrilled, stunned more than the depth of seas the day you proposed him to visit your sick mother with you. That time he knew the words of your heart that didn’t need to be spoken. And that was the start of your peculiar story.

Just like this- somehow- along the confusion and mismatch and ups and downs in the sky, the summer’s sun obtained that of the winters; strange, imperfect but so very beautiful.  

updated after n entire month guys. 

#theres no specific genre ig #type:blurb #skzwritersclub #inkidz #writekpop #stray kids #skz #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids felix #lee yongbok #felix imagines #felix fluff #felix angst #skz lee felix #blurb #stray kids fanfic #stray kids blurb #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz imagines #skz fluff

[evakuality]

Druck, s5, episode 6 - belated thoughts

I know exactly no-one cares about these with the new season starting and all, but I refuse to watch anything new until I have seen all of s5.  And making these is kind of keeping me on track with it so I’m going to keep going.

The first clip is very cute, and I guess it’s a nice respite from some of the stress and angst of parts of episode 5.  But it doesn’t really do much except establish that Josh is sensitive about suggestions that he might play around.  How that plays into things to come, I don’t know.  But other than that it’s just a couple of people messing around and having fun together.  So it feels like filler.  But it’s sweet filler, so we can forgive it.

Another weirdly distorted view of Nora.  She’s really finding things tough now when she’s not with Josh (or the girls) huh?  I mean, this is a deliberate decision by the camera but it gives us a real sense of just how topsy turvy and messed up she is.  Her entire view is upside down and inside out and she’s really losing a grip on what the truth is.  I do like all this stuff, and I’m having fun spotting all the moments when distortion is used with Nora and how much it’s picking up both in frequency and the amount of distortion that’s happening, but it feels like it’s going a little too slowly.  As in we got a lot of these shots through episode 5 but they didn’t really go anywhere and it doesn’t feel much like we’ve moved since the start of the previous episode.  It’s probably a consequence of having so many plots at play and trying to balance them all.

Hmmmm.  Having said that she feels disconnected when she’s not with the girls, it looks like it’s starting to intrude when she is with them as well.  Which doesn’t bode well for the future.  They’re so excited and happy for her and she looks quite distant and almost apathetic.  We can trace the seeds of their later disappointment in her here already.  To be quite brutal, it looks like she found them and they were cool for a while but as soon as she got a boy she doesn’t need them anymore.  Obviously we know this isn’t what’s happening, but you can’t blame them for reading it in this way.  She’s been lying and hiding so much for so long that they can’t possibly know what the problem is.  And of course the whole virus business is adding to it.  Lots of stress and angst etc.

‘it feels like they were sticking that thing directly into your brain’ - yeah it sucks, that test, but I’m glad they got it done.  It’s also nice that they’re together (well apart from Mailin with her little freak out).  It is quite sad to see Nora a bit disappointed that she’s negative because she assumed if it was the virus that would explain everything weird that’s happening.  But since it’s not ... well, she’s got to face up to the fact that something else is going on.  

Josh’s room is cool; I like the way it feels.  And it’s nice to see Nora exploring it and taking in who he is and what he’s like.  It’s cute.  Her little sadness when she asks if he gets on well with his mother - that slight jealousy that she doesn’t have that with her mother no matter how much she tries to pretend and make it true.  Zoe and Kiki really were right that all this stuff is putting unacceptable pressure on her, and it’s affecting her in a lot of ways both big and small.  But trying to feel something and/or escaping from the things he’s insinuating by kissing him - we’ve been down this path before, Nora, and it didn’t go so well then either.  I get how this must all feel to her, and how threatening the things he’s saying are to her sense of self.  But yeah, this isn’t a good idea.

One thing I’m finding really interesting this episode is the amount of really close, tight closeups some even verging on extreme.  We’ve stopped getting shots of Nora at a distance and boxed in by the frame and the things around her and now that boxing is is being done by the camera itself.  It’s much more claustrophobic and disconcerting this way, and in this clip the amount of shots that cut off parts of her - the back of her head, her whole head, etc etc - it makes it all a lot more tense.  Plus how the doctor is always framed much more ‘normally’ in the shot, a head-and-shoulders shot, centred and calm.  So it really does highlight the very different ways the two of them are perceiving this situation.  And she’s really brave trying to get these answers and figure out what’s wrong, but the reaction isn’t really helping at all.  The insinuation that she’s feeling like this because of drugs or iron deficiency is natural to a doctor, I suppose, but it really does hammer home how difficult it is to try to get help.  I can’t see someone coming out the other side of this experience thinking ‘that was great, now let’s find out some more’  and so it seems like this is doing more harm than good.  She’s alarmed enough to seek help, but the help she’s sought is the wrong one.  

And then she puts on her ‘face’ again, quite literally.  Last time she did this she was not in a good state and things started to really tumble for her.  So yeah.  This isn’t a good thing and it’s a pity that Zoe at least doesn’t seem to be there to see it and recognise how odd this behaviour is.  Speaking of Zoe - didn’t she promise to sleep at home again?  That doesn’t appear to be happening and yet we’ve just dropped it?  That’s ... not great imo.  I guess we can suggest that Nora isn’t paying attention to her sister and so now we aren’t either.  But it still feels at this point like this is a ball that’s been dropped.  These girls are lovely and all, but this whole relationship is too new for any of them to really be able to see what’s up with Nora.  

#druck

[written-on-the-trees]

Emerson Barrett Fan Fiction - Beautiful Things Come One Stitch At A Time

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers (or rather exes to still-exes-but-one-of-them-wants-to-get-back-together)

Word-count: 1825 words

Warnings: none

Description: Tia dumped Emerson because he wasn't good for her. She never expected to see him at work four years later - and now she doesn't know what to do.

Sequel to Not Enough Stitches To Put Us Back Together!

Tia sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

 This was not how she had wanted to spend her day.

 After getting fired, she’d started looking for jobs that would take her away from Las Vegas. It had only been a few months since she’d dumped her ex-boyfriend, Emerson, and it had seemed like the universe was telling her it had been time for a change. She’d applied for a few various positions, and ended up taking a job on Los Angeles, at Sumerian Records. At the time, Palaye Royale had been an unsigned band, and Tia had taken a job as a personal assistant in the record label’s legal department, figuring that even if Palaye Royale were signed to Sumerian, it was unlikely Tia would ever have any reason to deal with them.

 However, two very significant things had changed since she’d first started working for Sumerian.

 Firstly: she’d become a tour manager. Apparently she had an undiscovered talent for wrangling people and organisation. The last bit hadn’t really been undiscovered to her, but the people wrangling bit had been a pleasant surprise.

 Secondly - something that was a much less pleasant surprise - Palaye Royale got signed to Sumerian Records.

 Tia hadn’t been pleased. She’d gone straight to her boss, Kayley, and explained everything: that Emerson was an ex-boyfriend, that they hadn’t parted on the best of terms, and that Sebastian and Remington despised her. Kayley had taken it in stride, and made notes in all the relevant places that Tia wasn’t to be TM on any tour Palaye Royale were on. It was a system that worked for years; she never saw any of the three men, and since she’d blocked them all on all of her social media accounts, along with anyone she knew they were close with, she wasn’t even sure she worked for the label they were signed to.

 It was the perfect arrangement, as far as she was concerned.

 But then the world had gone to shit. That had been rough for everyone, not least Tia, who had been lucky to be put on paid leave through the worst of it, getting 75 percent of her monthly salary each month. Between that, using the extra time to spend on her crafting hobbies that allowed her open up an Etsy store, and her savings, Tia had been lucky enough to wait the virus out. Some of her colleagues hadn’t been so lucky, and had had to move on, but as much as Tia’s heart had hurt for them, she hadn’t really thought of what that meant for her.

 Like the fact Sumerian were now dealing with the world opening back up for concerts while they had a lack of tour managers.

 Which was how Tia had ended up being named TM for the second leg of Palaye Royale’s The Bastards Tour.

   Just kill me now.

   Kayley had been apologetic, and Tia honestly believed there was nothing her boss could’ve done, but in some respects that just made things more frustrating. There was no-one to blame for these circumstances but a shitty universe fucking with her, and so Tia just had to put on her big girl knickers and get on with it. Starting with introducing herself to the boys as their new TM.

 It wasn’t going to be fun. In fact, Tia was pretty sure it was going to be the worst day she’d had since she’d dumped Emerson.

 Despite that, though, Tia squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked onto the tour bus that was going to be her new home - and the home of her ex-boyfriend and his brothers - for the next few months. The sudden silence that fell across the three men sitting in the main living area was deafening, but Tia didn’t let it intimidate her. She was going to have to face a lot worse than just silence, and she wasn’t going to be beaten so early on.

   So, instead, she just put a blandly professional smile on her face, and introduced herself before any of those idiots could speak: “Good morning. I’m Tatia, and I’m going to be the TM for this tour.”

 “We know who you are.” Sebastian glared at Tia: “It’s not like we’d forget the bitch who dumped our brother on the way back from the hospital.”

 Remington nodded: “We’re not awful people.”

   Tia would like to argue that point, specifically about Sebastian and Remington, but she was determined to remain professional.

 Even if Emerson was staring at her as if she was some sort of literal angel: like he couldn’t quite believe he was actually seeing her. It was weird, and Tia really hoped that he stopped doing it soon, but in the name of remaining professional she ignored it.

   “Of course you’re not.” Tia agreed with Remington, keeping her tone light and friendly, despite how bad his attitude was: “And irrespective of any previous relationships, we’re going to have to work together for the next three months, so I believe it’s in all out interests to be civil.”

 “Or we could just tell the label that you’re a ex and we don’t want to work with you.” Remington smirked.

 Tia just smiled at him: “Sumerian Records have been aware of the fact Emerson is my ex-boyfriend since you signed with them. Normally I would not have been your TM, but there’s a bit of a shortage of us around at the moment, and I’m the only one available for this tour. If you would still like to take it up with the record, then you can, but in terms of TMs, it’s me or no-one.”

   Silence reigned again.

   “Shall we get on the road, then?”

   The silence continued, and Tia took that as a win.

      A month into the tour, and Tia was ready to tear her hair out.

 Remington and Sebastian were dicks. Andrew, their touring guitarist, took his lead from them, even if he wasn’t as bad: and their merch girl Hope did the same. All the roadies, some of whom she’d worked with before, were on her side, seeing Remington, Sebastian, and Andrew as arrogant and rude because…well, they were arrogant and rude, snapping demands during set up and ignoring everyone the rest of the time. The driver hated them because he was constantly annoyed by their antics on the bus, so he was on Tia’s side too

 The bus was divided, and it was not conductive to a good environment.

 And then there was Emerson.

 Emerson, when he wasn’t busy on stage or doing media, followed Tia around like a lost puppy. The roadies had found it really creepy to begin with - and even when Tia had filled them in on the fact he was her ex, they still weren’t too happy about him. She was rarely left on her own, and she grateful for that - because apparently Emerson was not over her.

 He started with constantly trying to make eye contact whenever they were in the same room. When that didn’t work, he moved onto texting her, since she’d unblocked him for work, but she ignored all messages from him that weren’t work related. Once he’d realised he wasn’t getting anywhere with the texts, he’d moved onto gifts and cares. A lot of gifts and cards. Stuffed toy cats, expensive treats like fancy baked goods and chocolates, interesting sounding books, even jewelry.

 Tia ignored all of it, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he would stop letting her do that.

 Eventually, he managed to corner her while she was talking to Hope about how much stock the merch table needed and if they needed to look at getting more. With Hope being firmly on the band’s side, and probably assuming Emerson was going to chew her out like Remington and Sebastian constantly tried to, she disappeared the moment he gestured for her to give him and Tia a moment.

   He didn’t waste a moment once he had her trapped between himself, the merch table, and a wall, immediately launching into what he wanted to say: “Tia, I’m so sorry. Past me was awful - ”

 “I hate to break it to you, Emerson, but present you is also pretty terrible.” Tia rolled her eyes.

 “ - but I have changed.” Emerson continued, before his expression turned regretful when he registered what she’d said: “Even if I haven’t necessarily shown you that.”

 Tia rolled her eyes again: “Pretty much the opposite. You and your brothers are exactly the same as I remember you: aggressive, cocky, or just plain apathetic. Your brothers have gone out of their way to make life difficult to me, and you’ve sat back and let it happen, just like the three of you used to drive me to the urge of panic attacks, and you did nothing about it. So, yeah, I wouldn’t exactly say that you’ve shown you’ve changed.”

 Emerson had the good sense to look ashamed: “You’re right, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

   Tia remained resolute when Emerson’s face dropped.

 She wasn’t sucked in by the act - and on the off chance it was genuine, it was nothing compared to the upset he’d caused her. The fact was, dating Emerson had been terrible for Tia’s mental health. It had driven her to therapy after the relationship ended, which had in time allowed her to see that although her issues were absolutely not Emerson’s fault, he exacerbated them so much that if she hadn’t dumped him when she had there would have been issues that he was to blame for.

 Had she missed him? Yes. Did she still miss him? That was harder to say.

 Emerson was a unique soul, and Tia had truly felt they had gotten along amazingly…he just never listened to her when she explained that there was something wrong. She had loved him, even though they’d been together for just six months, but that had been over four years ago now, and even though sometimes it made something in her chest clench when she looked at him, she honestly wasn’t sure if it was love or just an echo of the pain he’d caused her.

   “I want to show you that I have, though.” Emerson suddenly continued: his forlorn look being overtaken by one of determination: “I will show you that I have.”

 Tia wasn’t sure she believed him…but she found that, deep down, she wanted him to, even though she wasn’t going to admit it, so she just sighed: “I’m sure you’ll try, Emerson.”

 “I will.”

 “Okay, then.” Tia shrugged, still acting like she didn’t believe him - because she honestly didn’t, no matter what she wanted: “I’ve got work to do. You do what you want.”

   She walked away, leaving Emerson to plan whatever he was going to do to try and convince her that he was a better person that he used to be.

   I wonder if it will work…

#The Trees Writes #The Trees' October 2020 Writing Challenge #Emerson Barrett #Emerson Barrett imagine #Emerson Barrett fanfic #Emerson Barrett fan fic #Emerson Barrett fan fiction #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fanfic

[lastoneout]

Comfort Food

Fandom: Persona 5

Rating: PG

Summary: 

Akechi has a food blog, Futaba thinks that's hilarious, Akira is a good friend, and Sojiro needs a drink.

Notes:

This was supposed to just be me projecting my issues on to Akechi because he's my emotional support bastard boi but somehow it turned into nearly 2500 words of tooth-rotting slice of life fluff. Whoops.

A03

Goro learned the hard way that hiding things from Futaba was impossible.

To be fair it wasn’t like he was trying to hide his food blog, he mentioned it in passing a few times and he knew that most of his followers were his fans, but he never really expected any of the Thieves to actually read it, let alone read it out loud, in front of him...while laughing at it.

“What are you, a high school girl?” Futaba said with a snicker after she finished reading his latest post aloud, “I’ve seen little girl’s diaries with more class.”

“Oh my god.” Akira choked out from beside Futaba behind Leblanc’s bar, desperately trying to muffle his laughs as Goro floundered.

He knew he shouldn’t care. The Thieves always poked fun at each other. ‘It’s what friends do,’ Akira had said. If anything he figured he should be grateful that Futaba considered him enough of a friend to playfully mock his hobby. But Goro was never good at regulating his inner emotions, and so as much as he tried to not let it get to him, it did.

Truthfully, he never meant to get into food. For the longest time, he considered it a pointless expense. In the various foster homes that he was tossed between food was almost a luxury. And to someone who often wondered where his next meal would come from it was hard to justify the cost of a fancy dinner when the same money could get him a month's worth of instant ramen and convenience store bento lunches.

But when he got into high school and wormed his way into the police force he suddenly was financially stable enough to justify luxury spending. Nijima-san was kind enough to pull some strings to get the agency to act as a guarantor so he could move out of the foster home and into a small apartment, and after he paid his bills and rent he was left staring at the remaining sum in his bank app, trying to wrap his head around how that money was his, and he could do whatever he wanted with it.

He tried to keep a level head and decided to go to a nearby department store to pick up things to furnish his new home, but on the way there he passed a diner and was stopped dead by the incredible smells drifting out the door. His stomach growled, and he found himself trying to remember the last time he had eaten something that hadn’t come wrapped in plastic and styrofoam.

His stomach growled again, and before he had time to think about it, knowing that if he did he would decide against it, he hurried into the restaurant. He was seated quickly, and despite feeling weirdly giddy and anxious he smiled at the kind waitress who took his order. The simple latte and plate of pancakes were probably the most delicious things he had ever tasted, and he couldn’t help how his eyes watered after the first bite, the food filling some empty part of himself he hadn’t even known existed.

Looking back on that day he’s grateful that he wasn’t famous yet, as no one cared to pay attention to the skinny teenager in the booth by the wall trying not to get tears in his dinner.

After that, he ate out at least once a week. He spent little on necessities, picking up most of the things he needed at the ¥100 store and buying used clothes, saving every extra bit that didn’t go into bills for food. Eventually, he started looking up new places to eat, and after finding a few food blogs he decided on a whim to start his own. It didn’t take off until after his big break, but he didn’t mind. The simple pictures and reviews he posted weren’t really for anyone else, and on days when he felt empty and angry, he would scroll back through them and feel a little bit better. Almost happy at the little niche he had carved out for himself.

Shortly after that Akechi’s entire life quickly became a delicate web of lies. He was a double, even triple agent, under so many layers of falsehoods even he struggled to keep it straight sometimes. If anyone ever bothered to break him down to his bare parts there really wasn’t much he actually did for himself. Every single facet of his life and personality had been carefully crafted to ensure he would be able to get the revenge he so desperately craved. He hardly ever did anything just for himself. Every interest he shared in interviews or mentioned around his ‘friends’ was for show, not something he honestly cared all that much about. It was annoying sometimes, having to pretend to care for things he felt apathetic towards, but it was necessary.

But food? Food stayed safe. It helped his Detective Prince facade once he got popular, after all the only thing teenage girls seemed to like more than cute boys was trendy food. And cute boys who love trendy food? That’s a check that writes itself. It made him look soft, approachable, and normal. So he indulged. Actually enjoying sharing the one part of himself that wasn’t fake.

Maybe that’s why Futaba’s mockery stung so much. He wouldn’t care if people made fun of his fake interests, but when it was the real him? It hurt.

He tried to laugh it off, blushing and begging her to stop. He insisted it’s just for his fans, he’s not really that immature or girly, it’s just for show! But each plea seemed to only make the situation worse, so he gave up and silently begged for her to get bored soon, his face an unnatural shade of red.

Akira, ever perceptive, seemed to notice something change in his demeanor, and without a second thought, the teen reached forward and plucked Futaba's phone right out of her hands.

"Hey!" She shouted, grabbing for it.

"Alright, alright, that's enough." He chided, holding the phone just out of Futaba's reach, "We all have our hobbies. But since we're in a sharing mood how about I tell Akechi-kun all about your Featherman shipping blog?"

A chill came over the room. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would." He turned to Goro with a devilish smirk, "See she loves the red and blue rangers together-"

"Akira I'll end you!" Futaba yelled, diving forward and attempting to tackle him. Akira, however, was taller, and easily deflected her blows.

"She was telling me about this doujinshi she read the other day-"

"I'll spread rumors about you on websites you've never even heard of!"

"It was so romantic-"

"I'll leak your bank info on the dark web!”

"It's by her favorite author too, she buys everything they release-"

"I'll destroy you with malware, you won't be able to BREATHE near a circuit board without getting a virus!"

"Tell me, Akechi-kun, do you know what smut is?"

"AKIRA!!!" Futaba shrieked, and it was quickly followed by the sound of clanging pots and Sojiro swearing loudly from the kitchen.

“Would you two cut it out?” He shouted, poking his head around the corner.

“Sorry Boss, just giving Futaba a lesson on being a good friend,” Akira replied with an apologetic smile.

“Well next time can you do it outside? You’re lucky I don’t have any customers in here right now.”

“You never have any customers...” Futaba mumbled.

“I heard that. And Futaba, I thought I asked you to tie up your hair when you’re behind the counter.”

“On it...” She grumbled, pulling her hair back into a lazy bun with the scrunchie on her wrist.

“We’ll keep the noise and health code violations to a minimum, Boss,” Akira said, shooting a lazy salute Sojiro’s way. The older man eyed them for another second before sighing and mumbling something about herding cats as he turned back to the curry.

With the situation defused, Akira and Futaba stared at each other, having a silent yet very animated conversation, but eventually, Akira seemed to win and Futaba sighed heavily, "Okay, okay,” She turned to Goro and gave him a bow, “I'm sorry for making fun of your blog Akechi-kun."

Goro hardly knew what to make of the display, let alone her apology, but it made him feel a bit better, so he relaxed and gave her a genuine smile, “It’s alright, Futaba-chan, I forgive you.”

“Can I have my phone back now, please?”

“You may,” Akira replied amicably, handing the hostage technology back to Futaba.

She smiled triumphantly before another dark look crossed her face. She eyed Goro, suspiciously, before blushing and tapping her fingers together “A-and Akechi-kun...you won’t tell anyone else about the...shipping thing, right?”

“To be honest...I’m not sure I fully understand what you were talking about,” He replied, “But your secret is safe with me.”

“I’m so proud of both of you,” Akira said with a fake teary-eyed sniff, “My two little introverts, making friends.”

Goro and Futaba broke out in protests, but a quick glare from Sojiro shut them both up.

“Wow, you’ve really got that ‘disappointed dad’ look down, Sojiro.” Akira quipped.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than raise hell in my cafe?”

“As much as it breaks my heart, yes.” Akira said, untying his apron and heading around the counter, “I’ve got a date with a pile of dirty dishes in Shinjuku.”

“You’re not taking Morgana?” Futaba asked as he grabbed his bag and jacket.

“Nah, he hates The Crossroads, says the alcohol smell makes his nose itch. When he wakes up from his nap just let him know where I went.”

“Roger that.”

“Thanks,” He said, “See you guys later! Oh, and try not to get into too much trouble while I’m away.”

Futaba rolled her eyes dramatically, and Goro, still feeling a bit lost, simply shrugged.

“Akira, text me when you get there! You know I don’t like you going to that part of town so late.” Sojiro called, and Goro had to suppress a smirk. Akira had faced down far worse threats than the red light district at night. But it must be nice, he figured, to have someone worry about you.

“Got it!” Akira replied, the bell jingling as the door closed behind him.

Futaba seemed to deflate in his absence, looking anxious. She had explained once that Akira was something called a ‘key item’ that gave her ‘a plus ten confidence boost’, and he assumed that just meant she was shy when he wasn’t around. Goro turned back to his discarded coffee, grimacing a bit when a sip revealed it to be lukewarm.

“Uh, I can make you another cup...it’s my fault that one went cold anyway.” She said, clearly trying to make things up to him, “Sojiro’s been teaching me. It probably won’t be as good as his though. I’m still totally stuck on tutorial mode.”

“Oh, um, that would be lovely.” He replied, “Thank you.”

She started the process, carefully measuring grounds as the kettle heated, “You know, you should write about Leblanc on your blog. You like the food here, right?”

“I-”

“Absolutely not.” Sojiro interrupted, joining Futaba behind the bar to supervise the brewing.

“But Sojirooo! Akechi-kun is popular, you might actually get some business for once!”

“I don’t want that kind of business. Sorry Akechi-kun, but hundreds of fangirls in here every day ordering fancy drinks and asking when their beloved Detective Prince is coming back? I can feel my blood pressure skyrocketing just thinking about it.” He replied with a chuckle, “A man my age can only handle so many loud teenagers at once, and Akira’s band of hooligans already pushes the limit.”

“Don’t worry, Saku...uh, sorry, Boss. I understand.” Goro clarified, “There have actually been several cases of popular food writers unwittingly causing small restaurants to close due to their articles increasing interest to an unmanageable level. I wouldn’t dream of doing that to Leblanc.”

“Glad we’re on the same page then.”

Futaba finished making the coffee, grinning when Sojiro complimented her technique. She eagerly pushed a fresh cup to him, practically vibrating while she watched him take a sip. It was true that it wasn’t as amazing as her father’s, but it was still good and had its own charm.

“You did well.” He said, and he couldn’t help chuckle when she broke out in a wide smile, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest at the sight.

“Yes! I leveled up! Plus five coffee making exp!”

“We’ll make a barista of you yet.” Sojiro said fondly, “Now, it’s getting late. Akechi-kun, do you have dinner plans? I’ve got enough curry back here to feed an army, you’re welcome to stay.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose...”

“Just say yes.” Futaba whispered to him with a smirk, “Sojiro put all of his stat points into feeding wayward teens.”

“Then...yes, I’d be honored.” Akechi said, too confused to be offended by being called ‘wayward’.

“The honor is ours,” Futaba replied solemnly, giving an overly formal bow before breaking out laughing.

Sojiro wasted no time serving up three plates of curry, chatting idly with Futaba as she went to flip the open sign to closed. The two of them managed to herd Goro into a booth just as Morgana trotted downstairs, asking about Akira and demanding food. Futaba poked the poor not-cat a few times while Sojiro retrieved Morgana’s food bowl and popped open a fresh can of cat food.

“Sorry,” Sojiro said, pulling up a chair and making room on the table for Morgana’s dish, “He throws a tantrum if he doesn’t get to eat with us.”

“I do not!” Morgana shouted indignantly, “I’m just too civilized to eat on the floor.”

“Chatty cat,” Sojiro replied, giving Morgana a few chin scritches.

“Morgana is family,” Futaba said sagely, “And a family that eats together, stays together.”

‘...Family, huh...’ Goro thought to himself.

“What’s up Akechi-kun?” Futaba asked, and he blushed lightly as he realized he was staring off into space.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s nothing,” He deflected, “The food looks delicious, Boss. Thank you.”

“Thank you for the food!” Futaba yelled before digging into her plate, and the rest of them quickly followed suit.

As the four of them shared the meal, Goro felt the warm feeling from before grow and spread through his chest. Futaba was using her fork to flick small bits of meat at Morgana despite Sojiro’s half-hearted complaints, cheering as Morgana somehow managed to catch every single one. The smell of curry and coffee and cat food mingled in the air with laughter and shouts, giving the whole room a feeling not unlike a comforting hug.

Goro allowed himself a small smile, sure that the only reason he felt so happy was the food.

#persona #persona 5 #akechi goro #futaba sakura #akira kusuru #no persona 5R spoilers #loo writes #please read my trash #long post #just in case the readmore doesn't work #Me And Mine #Text

[indigosprite]

LOST FILES 01

“You misunderstood” Mukuro chuckled looking over at the raven haired mans bed. He laid still his chest rising every so often as he breathed a look of tranquility rested on his usually jarring features. To anyone else the man looked to be peacefully resting which was expected in this condition . But to the man who had inflicted it on him most the pain in his body was evident. Stiffly laying there unwilling to contort his lithe figure into those puzzling sleeping positions he usually found comfortable, his breathing was short and hurried like it hurt less to hold it and breathe only once every few moments. Silently he was screaming for help. Hibari Kyoya was a man of remarkable strength , he rarely exhibited feelings of pain which was exactly why his nurses and family failed to see just how bad the situation was. This was as loud as his body would cry for help.

“If Hibari Kyoya dies everyone else will too.” Mukuro declared with a casual smirk. “Mukuro sama!” Kusakabe Warned although he felt the same about his Bosses current predicament. Mukuro turned to face him his eyes narrowing as he tapped his trident against the floor. “With a boss as blunt as Hibari you’ll know that I am not being facetious when I say this. I do not mean i will kill all his doctors. I mean everyone.” 

With a third tap he began to dissolve into the air leaving the pair in a terrified silence.

Tsuna stopped in his tracks a knowing smile creeping on to his face as he waited. Seconds later the blue haired man appeared in front of him, he’d gotten good at knowing when the elusive mist guardian was on his way to him. “Mukuro San” the man nodded inviting the man to continue his walk with him, he blocked his path. Mukuros lips curled into a grin “I have no intentions of having a pleasant conversation with you Sawada Tsunayoshi” he spoke truthfully. Tsuna sighed his smile never faltering , he expected nothing less. All his conversations with his Mist guardian were tooth and nail, but above all their interactions never seemed to not benefit him in the end. “I understand.” He replied a stern look in his eyes that was still friendly. He sensed no intent to kill from the man, his presence gave off another aura. One of pure agitation and unrest. He’d worry if it was Gokudera who would act on such feelings then and there but Mukuro prefers to be calculated so these feelings at most were a warning.

“Your cloud guardian, his condition is worsening and you have yet to show any interest in what’s really going on” Mukuro stated. “You’ll hear from his subordinate how displeased I am so I won’t dwell on that.” His red eye glistened. “Tell me Vongola, the Vongola I witnessed cry like a two year old at the thought of his friends being hurt in a battle, why are you so apathetic now. Not that I fault you. People are replaceable after all but I’m curious. When did you become me”. He smiled at the Boss. Tsuna stiffened at the comment just as the man had wanted obviously since his grin turned to one of amusement. “I care about Hibari-San as much as everyone else does. I visit him the most and meet with his doctors personally. We’ve been searching for answers for weeks.” Tsuna snapped “I’ll never be like you Mukuro no matter how many men I have at my fingertips I will never see them as expendables like you. That is why I still have my family.”

A hostile energy began to grow, its presence appeared and disappeared just ask quick. He’d struck a nerve, Ken and chikusa had parted from him a short time ago. A momentary lapse in their relationship , but still the wound was a new one. “But Mukuro....I wonder. When did you start to care about others, when did you become me ?” Tsuna asked turning his earlier statement on him.

“Kufufufu, I admit Kyoya is one of my better sparring partners but as usual my motives have little to do with the others involved. Whatever happened to him, whatever virus he’s deliberately been given was no accident.” Mukuro voice was grim his usual playfulness nowhere to be found. “What do you mean?” Tsuna questioned fearing the answer , Mukuro wasn’t the most trustworthy person when it came down to it. If he had managed to harm hibari just to see tsuna squirm for whatever reason he would never forgive him. He was eerily similar to daemon spade after all and if he ignored primos history with his mist guardian he was bound to repeat it. “It’s no fun if I give you all the answers,” the man smirked “but since it’s in my best interest , I shall.” He agreed lifting a small weight off tsuna’s chest. “When me and that pest went on that mission it felt wrong the entire time. just as you mentioned afterwards, that feeling you had about something going bad you figured it was Hibari falling ill that you were feeling.” Mukuro laid down the framework of his theory.

“You weren’t wrong. You did sense Hibari’s impending condition however it’s not the illness itself you felt while we were at that mission. It was the fact that we were set up but it’s clear now Hibari was being targeted.” He explained

“What do you mean?!” Tsuna ask harshly unable to figure it out for himself. He had a feeling something was off but even when the cloud

guardian fell sick it persisted. Like he was still missing something. “That mission forced you to deploy your two strongest guardians under the guise of us getting the chance to rip that Larone bastards apart. They knew we’d both show up whether you only wanted one of us to go or not at the mere chance of getting to fight the idiots who managed to piss us off on separate occasions. Yet he barely put up a fight or made any attempt to recover what was taken from him. He gave up fighting seriously after managing to land only one direct hit on Kyoya”

His stopped for a moment vividly remembering the fight that ensued between the the four men that day. Mukuro had easily taken out his larone twin while Hibari proceeded to make the other one beg. Mukuro wasn’t in a playing mood that day. But his spirits lifted at the site of Hibari Kyoya being slapped once across the face. The move had been so unexpected and immature that Mukuro couldn’t help but turn into a fit of laughter. In turn it momentarily distracted Hibari his target switching for a moment to the pineapple until the words “pay attention” left the blue haired mans mouth. Then the one direct hit made contact with his shoulder, blood pouring out from the stab wound. After that the man didn’t even bother to really fight hibari off he just accepted the next few blows until his body was limp.

“Why would they target Hibari ? Why not kill him how would they’ even give him a illness” Tsuna began to question. Mukuro smirked “I looked in to that family, their bosses son fell ill a while ago. It’s under wraps I had to posses a very timid maid in order to attain that information. Their worker bees are admirable , but fall short in comparison to the likes of Shoichi and spanner. The Vongola is well connected with the perfect allies. Particularly a green haired acrabaleno who tends to accept your offers more than others.” Mukuro stretched his arms move his head getting tired of standing in the same spot for so long. He began to continue Tsunas walk and the Man followed awaiting the rest of this information. “ by giving a vital Vongola guardian the same illness as his son you were bound to find a cure all he’d have to do was take it from you.” Mukuro finally confessed.

“Why hibari san?”

“Kufufufu, I believe it was intended for both of us, but I wasn’t given my dosage properly since I was particularly violent that day. But by giving it to your strongest guardians it guaranteed you more time to figure out a cure. Our bodies would last longer than that of Yamamoto or Gokudera”

“So I’m being pushed against a wall at somebody else’s will. They’re toying with my guardians.” It wasn’t a question, his voice was calm and held a certain anger that made the other man shiver with excitement. Tsuna was ready to get more serious and a little violent now that he knew what had happened. “Precisely” Mukuro smirked “ah, but Mukuro not to be ungrateful but why did you tell me ? Are you and Hibari San acquaintances of some sort now are you repaying a favor?” Tsuna questioned his ulterior motives. “You insult me sawada. As I mentioned before I didn’t get my dosage properly, but the disease lingers in me nonetheless. And I’d rather have a vaccine before it makes a home in my perfect Vessel.” He said truthfully although a large part of him knew he was in no danger. But he’d be damned if he let Hibari die in such a pathetic way, he’d miss him more than he liked to think. things between the two felt...Intense lately, a mad part of him felt it was fondness even so it made him annoyed. 

#it’s old #not edited so the writing is a lil cringe #just getting down somewhere #you can have it #khr #rokudo mukuro #hibari kyoya #sawada tsunayoshi #6918 #mukuro x hibari #my writing

[bluboothalassophile]

blu! hello, i hope i'm not bothering you in your moving days but, ugh, i need more crime lord au, it's sooo good! why dc didn't hire you to write stories i'll never know! even more that your, Hogwarts AU, Gladiator AU, 1930s AU, Prince & Bodyguard AU, are also, really good, i don't know if i can ask you if you can make more of these stories (?) but, maybe i can come another day and ask that again to you, hehe, have a nice day blu!

Hello,

You can request more of them, though my inbox is closed at this moment. I will be filling out the requests in my inbox currently though so there’s to be lots more of the AUs you’ve listed! I hope you enjoy! =)

Trust...

“Are you sure this is a wise move?” his brother demanded.

Jason ignored his sibling in favor of moving through the castle.

“What’s a wise move?” Damian demanded appearing behind Tim.

“Jason has decided to get his own bodyguard!” Tim snapped.

“Not a detail!?” Damian sputtered.

“Well, for your two’s information I’m more trained than any detail and I am perfectly capable of protecting myself!” he snapped in irritation as he jogged down the stairs. Rae would be here soon, and then they could get to work.

“You are first in line for the throne!” Tim snapped.

“I’m well aware, and I can’t pull my Team home, so this is the next best thing,” he said as he made it to the door. The butlers opened it and he stepped out in time to see her getting out of her Jeep.

“You’re an asshole,” she snapped throwing her pack at him. Jason caught it with a grunt and pulled it over his shoulder.

“Well I gave you a choice,” he pointed out.

“And you’re a bastard and will someone get that asshole to stop staring at my ass! It’s an ass!” she snapped at Garfield as she pulled out another bag.

“Great to see you too little bird.”

“Yeah, yeah, Red, are you going to help me with this shit or not!”

“That’s no way to talk to the…”

“Zip it squeaky, I’m not talking to you,” Rachel snapped at Damian as she stalked to her trunk.

“Did you bring it all?”

“After you scared forty years off my aunt, you should apologize for that, and just so you know my cousin demands to be invited to a ball,” she stated.

“Damn.”

“I told you about this!” she stated as she pulled another bag over her shoulder.

“Did you pack the house?”

“Of course not, I left the kitchen sink behind,” she stated.

“So I see, what the hell is this, little bird?”

“Weapons, medical, medicine, wardrobe, and, of course, I got the beer, your beer, which you owe me for because this shit is not easy to find.”

“Noted,” he chuckled slinging another pack on his back and grabbing the final duffle. Jason smirked as Rachel walked by his brothers; who were flabbergasted as she walked into the palace.

“Have you looked over the report?” he asked softly after they had managed to go up the stairs and were leaving his brothers in the dust.

“I have,” she said as he guided her towards her quarters.

“And?”

“And the Medical Examiner’s determined cause of death is in line with the events that happened,” she said. “The only anomaly I have found is in the tox screenings, and that shows traces of sedatives, I don’t think your family does those, but I did some digging on it. Also, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, the route where they were attacked, it’s a perfect kill box, if you wanted to set up an ambush that’s where you’d want it.”

“What are you thinking?” he asked as he dropped her bags in the adjoining suite to his room.

“Same thing you are,” she said.

“Inside job?”

“Yes, you said no one knew about the meeting between Richard and Komand’r?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been told.”

“Why did he take his wife and son on the trip?”

“Dad said something about trouble with Babs and his marriage, wanting to work it out,” he said. “Honestly I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Okay, so I will start there,” Rachel said as she pulled out a file.

“Little bird, quietly,” he said.

“I do everything quietly,” she snapped. “But you owe me, and just so you know if you get shot, I’ll kill your sorry ass. And if I get shot saving your ass; again, I’ll be very pissed.”

“Are you going to bitch about it when I dig out the bullet again?”

“I dug out the bullet.”

He chuckled as he walked over to her. “Thanks for this Rae,” he said as he pulled her into a hug.

“Of course,” she murmured returning the hug.  “But if any heads of state get handsy I’ll knock them on their asses,” she warned.

“I’d expect nothing less,” he laughed. “Get settled, and I’ll start prepping you on everything a crown prince does.”

“I am not wiping your ass when you shit,” she warned.

“And here I thought you loved my ass.”

“I do, when it’s covering my ass,” she replied sweetly, he roared with laughter as he walked out of her room. Jason had given her his ‘spouse’ suite, knowing how it’d look, but Rachel was about the only woman he had ever had a serious relationship with and over ninety-five percent of that, was them running for their lives, being shot at in the middle of the fucking desert. Garth, Roy, Eddie, Kyle, and Connor had chased after him and Rae while he and Rae played keep away with a deadly virus and had an couple terror groups after them. Rae was fast, she was quick to think on her feet and great and keeping up with him. Though she was physically weaker to him, and did not have the same endurance, the medic was a hell of a fighter, and about the only one off his Team he would trust with his life. So yes, he would damn normal protocol and keep her where he thought she was best.

“She has to go,” Damian snapped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Shove it up your ass short stack,” Jason snapped.

“She is rude, abrasive, and apathetic!” Damian squawked indignantly.

Jason spun on his little brother, the young teen stumbled back. “And as of this minute she is one of six people I trust without question, make no mistake little brother, she is more important to me than anyone in this damn palace, including you.”

“I…”

“Lieutenant colonel Rachel Raven Roth, saved my life, ran around in a godforsaken desert was shot, stabbed, blown up and damn near drowned saving me; and I saving her. I do not care if you do not like her, she is the one I trust and she will be the one to ‘guard’ me,” he stated. “And not even father could make me change my mind.”

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one shot #prince & bodyguard au #jason todd #raven #jayrae #redrae #raex

[spacevikingdeathstar]

I Am Angry

I don’t usually do this, posting about myself or my life. I’ve been lurking in the Tumblr realm for years but only actually started interacting properly a few months ago - and only to reblog other people’s posts, with and without my own commentary. However, I felt the need to rant and, given my area has just shut down because of the shitstorm going on globally, my only option is screaming into the void here on Tumblr. 

A little background you may need to make sense of this rant: I am a 29 y/o full-time college student living in the American Southeast (smack in the middle of the Bible Belt, ugh). I’ve suffered from severe depression and socia/general anxiety 20+ out of those 29 years and have only just begun to heal and interact with other human beings in the last year or so.

Last night I was taking about what’s going on in the world both locally and internationally with my mom. I was kinda ranting about how badly the US government has dropped the ball and all the ways in which our so-called leaders are making everything worse for us lowly peasants. When I get upset, I get loud, my voice raises in pitch, and I tend to rage-cry. These are all things my mom knows about me, this isn’t new information. Yet once again, as always, when I got upset, when I got loud, she told me to calm down and don’t yell at me and I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. For the record, I wasn’t yelling at her. I wasn’t really yelling at all. My voice did get loud, I will admit, but rather than admit that this was an upsetting situation, she told me to stop. Stop being upset, stop being emotional, stop trying to connect with her. 

I know this isn’t what she was trying to do; she was trying to calm me down. However, for as long as I can remember, every time I’ve gotten upset and shown that to her, she has shut me down. When she says don’t yell at me or calm down all I hear is your outward show of emotion is inconvenient to me and I want you to stop. It’s always been like this and it always has the exact opposite effect of what she wants - I just get more upset and more loud. Recently, I’ve taken to not talking to her at all when I’m upset; if I need to convey information I text because you can’t hear volume or tone in written form. If I get upset in the middle of a conversation, I cut that conversation off and leave. This, in turn, upsets her because she feels like I’m cutting her off and distancing myself from her. And I am, I admit it. But that’s only because every time I try to connect to her, I - and more importantly, my emotions - get dismissed. And I have no idea what to do with this.

I have a large-ish extended family, but my mom is the only one I’m close with or even interested in being close with. She’s a very warm and accepting person - normally - but is totally unable to connect with me or accept my emotional life if it at all inconveniences her. Maybe she’s just too empathetic and my being upset upsets her in turn and she’s trying to stop that from happening. Maybe she’s just not used to having to deal with me being emotional (I was dead inside for most of my childhood and adolescences on top of being an Aspi and so not taken to frequent emotional outbursts). She was mostly emotionally absent most of my teens but we’ve been building a better relationship now that I’m an adult. However, I don’t know how close I can be to someone who systematically shuts me down every time I try to make a connection in any way other than fluffy positivity. 

I just don’t know what to do.

As for the reason I was so upset - the Covid19/Coronavirus bullshit - I feel like I am absolutely in my right to be angry! We should all be angry! We should be furious about how our government has failed us and seems set to continue to fail us in the future. The fact that so many people are ambivalent about it outside of if or how it affects them personally is disgusting - though probably a function of just how inured to catastrophe we all have become. Our so-called media is designed to actively brainwash the population with lies and propaganda - it’s all sensational entertainment, not real news - and so many Americans drink it all up like mother’s milk, letting it dictate to them what they think, what they do, who they vote for. 

We’re running head-long into apocalypse and no one is pumping the breaks. The failure of our government to successfully handle this crisis is not the cause of impending country-wide collapse, it’s a symptom. This crisis has shined a spotlight on just how little our “democracy” cares for the people (hint: little to none). Covid19 has destroyed what was left of the illusion of governmental competence to reveal the man behind the curtain and shown him for the ineffectual clown he his. And I don’t just mean Trump - everyone (or at least everyone with two brain cells to rub together) has known how much of a clown he and his administration is, was, and has always been for a while now. Unfortunately, it seems as though not everyone has those two brain cells and, so long as his ineffectual “leadership” didn’t personally effect them, a lot of Americans were willing to ignore it. That’s beginning to change as the country begins to shut down and the masses start pointing fingers and questioning who to blame. Maybe this’ll be the wake-up call America needs to make mass, overarching, and sweeping change to all aspects of our governance and public policy. 

I hope so, yet still I am angry.

I sit here and read about Italy, I read about Britain, I read about China. Then I look outside and watch the hundreds of cars driving by on the interstate and know we aren’t doing enough. We aren’t taking enough actions to stop this pandemic from spreading - and our entire country is going to pay for it. I watch the news and see our government bailing out big businesses and banks to the tune of 1.5 trillion while letting it’s citizens suffer. In a capitalist society corporations are people, actual people are just commodities to be used up and discarded and nothing highlights this more than a government demanding everyone stay home while simultaneously denying them any help with bills, food, rent/mortgage, healthcare. I see posts of individuals begging for help because they’ve been laid off but their landlord remains unwilling to work with them. I see people posting from the hospital with an oxygen mask over their face and having every single symptom of the virus - yet unable to get tested - and can only conclude the systematic denial of tests is in effort to keep the “confirmed” cases lower than they are in actuality. I read about the Trump administration resolutely cutting 700,000 people from their access to food stamps - despite the growing number of people losing their jobs as the country shuts down and the lack of employment opportunities country-wide. I read about how some people are wanting to organize a general strike - but fear it being ineffectual in a economy where so many are desperate for jobs. What’s to stop these corporations from simply forcing their striking employees back to work like it’s 1890 and the Pinkertons have been hired? Whats to stop them from simply firing anyone who dares to go on strike - en mas, if necessary - and hiring any one of the tens of thousands of people who will be desperate for a job at that point? Nothing, that’s what.

And I am angry. 

Maybe it’s a function of the belief that all negative emotions are bad - that people shouldn’t show anger, feel anger, express anger. Maybe that’s why every time I give voice to what I feel, I am shut down. Maybe that’s why I am told “maybe you should stop reading/watching the news” rather than “maybe we should do something about this”. Maybe everyone else is too numb to be angry, or to apathetic to do anything about it, or feel too disempowered to know what to do. 

But I am angry.

I am also scared and feeling powerless, like so many others. I am doing my damnedest to not allow this imposed isolation and the abject horror of our situation negatively effect my mental health - the last thing I need is to fall back into depression. But every time someone tells me to stop watching the news, stop following what is going on across the world, stop researching how the political candidates for American presidency are reacting to this crisis - I want to yell NO! No, I will not stop. No I will not put my head into the sand and ignore everything around me to make myself feel better. No, I will not stay uninformed. 

I didn’t vote in 2016. I’m ashamed to admit it, but there you go. I was in a really bad place that year and trying to follow the political debates took a chisel to my already fracturing mental state. So I did what everyone told me and stopped reading the news, stopped following the candidates, stopped getting upset over “politics”. And when November came around, I didn’t vote. I didn’t know anything but hearsay about Trump or Clinton and so couldn’t make an informed decision - and I was unwilling to make an uninformed decision. I was told this was the best option given my mental health; that when the planes are going down you need to put your own oxygen mask on first before concerning yourself with other people. This is sensible advice, as far as it goes, but I don’t think that it’s wholly applicable these days. Given the state of the world and the people who propose to run it, I think the advice to stay away from politics because it might upset you is the absolute wrong one - at least for myself. Going back to the downed plane metaphor, such advice more closely reads as: stick your fingers in your ears and sing real loud while the plane goes down in the hopes that it will all go away. Ignoring it won’t change a thing and, given everything going on right now, getting upset about “politics” is the most sensible reaction there is. 

So, I am angry. 

And I will not stop being angry just because it is inconvenient to others. I will not stop being angry because my emotions make others uncomfortable. I will not stop being angry because I was told to. I will not stop being angry by ignoring the world around me. 

I will not stop being angry until our government - the so-called world leaders of freedom and democracy - get their collective shit together and begin treating their people with the respect and dignity we all deserve. Until the richest country in the world starts acting like it and providing their people with the basic rights afforded to all other peoples of first-world countries. Until public policy is created for the betterment of all people, not just to pad the pockets of the ultra rich. Until the foundations of our crumbling democracy are rebuilt to truly create a government for the people, by the people. 

I am incandescent with rage.

And I will not calm down. 

#covid19 #coronavirus #us politics #anger #coping mechanisms #trump is not my king

[depressed-chicken-man]

Cooped Up

Shane x OC

CH1 CH2 CH3 CH4 CH5

Summary:

After failing to start her dream in the city, the fashion designer turned farmer tries to cope with her new life in the last-ditch effort to make a happy home for herself. She has so many concerns for her new life. How much of her identity is stuck in the city? Will she even make a difference?

Even if she doesn’t think so, it’s undeniable that she will make a difference for a certain depressed coop keeper.

Chapter 3: Marnie’s Nephew

Chapter 3 on Ao3

A week passed since Jen had first met Haley and they had met up almost every day since. This was the first day that she had not managed to make an outing because this was a more special day on her farm.

She had so much fun with Haley and was reminded of a friend she had in college. The blonde photographer in practice was extremely supportive and told her what she knew about other townsfolks and Jen herself wondered how far it fell into gossip but most of what Haley had shared was truthful so far. Jen really enjoyed having lunch and tea with her and it was a welcome friendship. Not only was Haley an interesting and fun friend so far, but they also shared a common interest.

Makeup and fashion.

Haley had introduced her to her sister, Emily, who oftentimes was a worker in the Saloon. She also got to meet Alex, who seemed nice enough but there was one thing that irked Jennifer about him. His nickname for her, Farmer Girl . She hated it.

In the moments she could barely afford to spare outside of tending to her farm and trying to get her parsnips to flourish, she would go visit Haley, who always welcomed her in to chat. It was that or she would opt for some alone time to sit at the pier south of her farm. One thing she enjoyed without a doubt was the sounds of the forest, the birds and trees. She loved the lapping of the water at the water’s edge and against the pier. It was soothing and relaxing and welcome when she was beyond exhausted.

It was then when she was alone that she could think about her progress and wonder if she was doing everything right. She could reflect on her day and wonder if she could keep it up, if she would get better, or if it was all doomed.

Even if she had tea with Haley once in a while, she still missed her city cafe latte.

Today was the big milestone on her farm, and despite having poured her savings into it, a coop was sure to help her farm grow and make a profit. She was excited and relieved, yet there was still that fear she had yet to get over. She had tried to get over it by watching “cute chicken videos” but for every cute video, there was another one of a rooster chasing a kid or a hen flogging someone who dared to enter the coop.

Still, her pride and determination to eventually be able to sell fresh eggs were enough for her not to hesitate. She was gonna have eggs even if she had to run, screaming out of her coop every single day. With another satisfied look at her new coop and a small stock of feed while her silo was being constructed, she walked around her freshly watered crops and made her way to the ranch.

In no time, she had made it to the door of the ranch, the moos of the dairy cows welcomed her. She took the time to dust herself properly, looking dreadful and dirty but that was the price to pay for her hard work. She was taking showers nearly every day because she refused to walk into town looking so dreadful. She had her appearance to uphold and she stuck to it. The exception was of course that Marnie didn’t seem like she cared a bit and Jennifer knew she already trusted herself enough to look humble.

Having dusted herself enough, she stepped into the ranch door and Marnie called from a back room. Jen waited and perked up when she saw the woman appear from around a corner near the back of the house.

“Oh miss Jennifer, I know why you’re here today! Robin already told me, but I’m having a small issue.” She called out, looking back into the room she came from before making her way to the front.

“An issue? I could come back later if I need to?” Jennifer offered but Marnie shook her head in response.

“No need. It’s just that my niece is sick with a virus. Poor Jas has been in and out of the bathroom all morning, bless her heart. I can’t come to help you, but my nephew can. It’s actually his day off and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” She gave and immediately set on her way. “He’s in our coop right now, I’ll go get him. Stay here.” She ordered and Jennifer stood in the lobby, if it could be called that being the foyer of a house.

She wondered what Marnie’s nephew was like. She knew that Marnie had told her his name but Jen couldn’t remember what it was. She wondered if he would be a good friend to her. She wished that was the case, as this ranch was essentially her neighbor. She came up with a quick mental image of what Marnie’s nephew was like. Kind like Marnie? Humble like Marnie? Surely he’d have red hair like Marnie?

In no time, Marnie returned, talking over her shoulder to her nephew, who followed her out the door and into the kitchen. It took her a moment to recognize him, but her sinking feeling set in as soon as she did.

That’s right… Marnie’s nephew’s name was Shane.

Jen closed her eyes and took a deep breath to prepare herself. Just be professional. He doesn’t want to talk to you any more than you want to be snapped at by him , she told herself. It was hard to not feel a little uneasy with the cold, apathetic stare he was giving her as he made his way to the lobby and leaned against the wall, looking as if he’d rather jump off a bridge than help her. He looked only slightly more put together today, but his clothing choice lacked taste. Khaki shorts and a baggy black shirt didn’t exactly speak fashionable, but the lack of a proper shave was the worst of it. She supposed she was being the slightest bit hypocritical, adorning a dirty set of overalls herself, but at least she had a reason. The redhead made her way to the front desk and opened up an invoice book.

“Okay, Miss Jennifer. How many chicks do you need?” She asked and clicked her pen. Jen had her mind made before she came, the most obvious choice for her to make.

“Twelve. A dozen chickens, a dozen eggs, right?” she half-joked but her humor wasn’t as helpful to her when she heard a barely audible groan from the dark-haired man. She was tempted to look at him but she kept her eyes on Marnie, ignoring him. Marnie gave her a smile and she nodded and hummed as she wrote it down.

“Twelve chicks it is. Shane, if you would…” She began but what she was asking was implied. Without a word, he pulled himself from the wall and disappeared into the house. Marnie sighed and gave her the amount owed. After she had paid and they waited on the grump to return, Marnie spoke up hesitantly.

“Miss Jennifer, I hope you don’t mind if my nephew is a little reluctant to talk. I would say he’s shy, but the truth is that he’s a little rough around the edges but I think he’d help you with anything if you ask.” she said and Jennifer nodded in acknowledgment. She didn’t know what to say and saying nothing was the best option for being genuine. Marnie changed the subject.

“How is your farm? Pierre has been saying that the exports are very solid for your first season. You’re doing well but what do you think?” She asked and Jennifer wondered for a moment if she should express her concerns for her farm. The decision was made quickly.

“Oh it’s wonderful. I feel like I’ve got the hang of it already. By this time next year, I’m sure I’ll have made it worthwhile. I couldn’t be more pleased.” She said, her optimistic words smeared her truth a bit but it was worth it to appear composed. She didn’t need to complain or show that she was struggling.

“Oh good! I’m so glad you think so! A farm is a lot of work but you’re handling it well.” she complimented. Any further conversation topic was stopped as a door creaked open and the brooding man stepped out with a box that peeped and squeaked. Jen was curious as to what the chicks looked like but she would find out later. She didn’t want to peer into the box now.

“Shane, if you would, could you give her a little rundown of how to take care of them when you get there. I’m sure it would help her a lot.” Marnie asked and the man rolled his eyes.

“No need. I think I’ve got it. I just need to have them brought over.” Jennifer stated, hoping that the less time spent with him meant the less likely chance of him being mean to her. Marnie still gave Shane a look as if to say that he should do it anyway but he didn’t seem to pay attention. Instead, he looked from the box to the door.

“Good idea, let’s get this over with.” he muttered, that same sharpness present in his voice. Jen gave Marnie a wary look before taking the hint. She rubbed her temples and set off towards the back of the house to where her niece was.

There goes the hope of her neighbor being her friend.

He couldn’t understand what was so difficult about carrying your own chicks home. The box wasn’t huge and the new girl was more than capable of doing it herself. No, it was his aunt’s idea of decent customer service, as if he didn’t have enough of that already.

His plan was to put the chickens in the coop for the city girl and get the hell out of there. He didn’t want to hang around and chit chat like old people. He was not in the mood at all today and on his day off he just wanted to stay home and be miserable, maybe check in on Jas too. He was silent as he followed the new farmer, grateful she hadn’t tried to strike up any conversation yet. Her braided dusty blonde hair hung and swayed behind her as she led the way, not that he needed directions. Everyone knew where everything was in this small town.

After a short walk, they came upon her farm and he was hasty to set the box of chicks in front of the coop door for Jennifer to deal with, his opposition to help her more than necessary out shadowed his concerns for the chicks. He doubted she knew how to take care of them and he didn’t want to see her at the ranch every time she had a question or issue. Still, without a word he turned to leave, his duty done before she called out to him.

“Hey, um....” She began and gave a suggestion more than asking a question “Could you open it for me? In the coop, preferably.” She asked, her brown eyes looking at him hopefully.

He stared at her for a moment. She can’t even open the box herself? She’ll fail here in no time. Without a word, he stepped into the coop and pulled the box in. He looked up at her to see that she was standing outside the coop, peering in from around the door frame. Whatever, it was none of his concern. He kneeled down onto the hay covered flooring, the cushion was at least done right but he wasn’t sure if it was the work of Jennifer or Robin, but he liked to think it was Robin.

He opened the box and a chorus of cheeps sounded as the chicks awaited their release from the cardboard cell. He reached in and scooped the fuzzy babies out one at a time, their calls felt grateful. He felt like he was doing them an injustice, putting them into the care of the most incapable farmer in town. Soon, all twelve were hopping around curiously, their marble-like eyes taking in their new home.

He looked back up to see that the woman was still peeking from behind the door. He gave her an incredulous look and her eyes followed the chicks as they bounced around.

Finally, she spoke.

“So… they don���t bite at this age, right? Do they like being petted or should I not do that?” she asked, her seriousness stark in her voice.

Bite? Was she for real? He scoffed and gave the most abridged version of his answer that he could as he stood.

“They don’t bite, they peck. If you don’t pet them, they won’t like you and they won’t come to you if they get loose.” He gave. She still stared from around the door. She almost looked… scared? No, it can’t be. She wasn’t scared of them, was she?

“Oh… cool. Does pecking hurt?” she asked, still eyeing the chicks.

“Why don’t you sit with them for a while. See if that will answer your questions.” he scoffed and took to his feet. She nodded and slowly crept into the coop, a small chick a few feet from her.

“Hey there… buddy? You’re cute.” She cooed at it and it cocked its head to the side. She offered her hand down to its level, and he could have sworn her hand trembled the tiniest bit. The chick decided to fluff up its feathers and rush over to her hand to greet her.

With a shriek that Shane was certain would give him a headache if he wasn’t over his hangover, she bolted from the coop faster than he could register. He was stunned for a moment and the humor and ridiculousness of the situation at hand caught up to him. He burst into laughter and took a few steps to see where the girl had run to. Maybe she would keep running and not stop.

His wish was denied but his chuckle still bubbled from him.

“That’s the most-” he laughed midsentence, interrupting himself. “-Pathetic thing I’ve seen. Why would you buy chickens if you’re scared of them?” he asked through his laughter. He watched as her pale-faced fright melted into a stern stare. She was catching her breath but she was still determined to answer him.

“I- huff - I don’t know! I just…” She trailed off. “It’ll be okay. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” She gave and if he wasn’t so off out by her stupidity, he might admire her optimism. He let his laughter die out.

“This is ridiculous, you know. I don’t know why you’re trying to do this. It’s obvious that you don’t know what you’re doing.” he said and leaned against the coop doorframe.

She looked like she was going to argue but her words didn’t come. Instead, she brushed the loose strands from her braid back and looked down at the ground.

“You’re right. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m a lousy farmer and it won’t be long until everyone else sees that.” she said in defeat before adding “Even so, I’m not going to stop. It doesn’t matter if I’m lousy or faking it, I’m still going to try my best.” she said. He shook his head.

“You won’t last long here. Why don’t you just leave? We don’t need you here and I’m surprised anyone thinks that this town does.” He suggested, his arms folded. He hoped it pissed her off, got under her skin. Instead, she gave a non-committed nod.

“I’m not going to leave, so you better get used to me. If I didn’t know any better, I would suspect you’re trying to run me off and it’s not going to work,” she said, her eyes meeting his, her warning sticking to him. He gave her a disappointed glare but she didn’t care. “Now, you can be mad about it but at least this can be our secret, that I’m so terrible. At least, until everyone else sees it too.” she said and looked over to her row of sprouts.

If he cared a tiny bit, he would almost feel bad for her.

He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. She was so out of her element that it wasn’t even funny. He looked back into the coop where the chick bounced around. It would be unfair to the chicks to let Jen loose on their poor lives. He straightened up and motioned over for her, grabbing her attention away from her crops. She followed him into the coop and he picked up the empty box and set it outside.

“So, the first thing you need to keep mind of when running a coop is how long your chicks had been cooped up…” he began and she gave him a wide-eyed look.

“You’re… helping me out? Giving me advice?” she piped up and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Not for long if you keep talking. And it’s not for you, it’s for the chicks,” he corrected and muttered something that he was hoping she hadn’t heard.

“...and for the beer.”

CH1 CH2 CH3 CH4 CH5

#sdv #sdv shane #sdv shane fanfic #sdv shane x oc #sdv fanfic #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley shane

[evenshands]

hi rino! how have you been, hon? …sorry if this is a bit heavy but I’ve been thinking about just add water a lot lately. I had read it a long time back and something about the way you characterised Isak in it and held his loneliness with so much care resonated deeply with me. Especially since all of his isolation comes after his mother’s death which is something that happened with me too. My mum passed away years ago yet the loneliness/ grief that came with it still lingers. Now a few months ago, I lost my dad as well, to the virus. I’m as delusional and numb and empty and apathetic about life and the world as one can ever possibly be. isk why but for some reason I keep thinking about wanting to live like Isak did in Just add water, the way he cut himself off from the whole world to protect himself. Although Nothing brings me hope or relief these days, Something about Isak’s sadness brings a hint of comfort. I’m still mustering the courage to re-read it. a tiny part of me wishes it was finished but ig most good things in life just end abruptly like your fic does and one has to just make peace with it somehow. Anyway, just wanted you to know that this lil piece of work of yours has been on my mind, how deeply your words had and still continue to impact me and maybe many more. thank you for writing it <3

hello angel

it's so lovely to hear from you! i'm so sorry for your loss and that you're going through this, and sorry that i can't be of much help, but i'm so glad that just add water resonated with you enough to send this message.

i'm sure there are people in your life that you can still reach out to! i know how isak lived is very tempting to follow with (trust me i know it very well!), reaching out is so hard but it can be so comforting to find a friend, and so worth it. if that takes too much, then maybe another story to bring you comfort, or a new interest - music, video games, anything like that! - and then you can even find a community around them! just like how it was with skam back in the day ;-;

and i don't know if you mean the extra chapters not being finished, but for just add water the story itself is finished! i know i left a few other stories unfinished like sfht and familiar, and i am very sorry about those ones, but just add water is finished at 22 chapters! the additional works in the series are just pov switches and future scenes, but dont hold any part to the actual story

i hope you can continue to find things that comfort you, and that you can find ways to heal and feel okay again <33333

#i dont know if this helps and i know that in times like this not much does #but trust me when i say i am so touched that you reached out and told me this #thank you so much #sending you all my love <3 #ask #anonymous

[megacircuit9universe]

Alien Tip Off

WED SEP 16 2020

Woodward’s tapes of Trump, extensively admitting how well he understood the dangers of SarsCoV2, way back in the spring... that it was airborne, that it was far more deadly than the flu, etc... have stayed in the news all week, with longer and longer clips being released that utterly destroy any possible, devil’s advocate, arguments in Trump’s favor on this... the single most important issue facing the nation.

It’s safe to say we’re all stunned!

He was simultaneously smart enough to grasp the true danger of the virus... yet stupid enough to... agree to go off about this on tape with Woodward and... still do what he did in his response to the threat.

The tapes don’t JUST justify his impeachment, and expose every Senator who voted to acquit, as dastardly cowards... but they gut any possible, devil’s advocate, arguments for Trump, by anybody with any grip on sanity.

This puts the current GOP Senate in great peril... even as it reduces the base of loyal Trumpist voters they were banking on... to only the criminally insane.

No more fluffy padding of evangelicals, and other right wing conservatives who, held their nose, so does speak, and went along for the sake of the party. They’ve now formed a very visible, and powerful movement to deny Trump, and any of his hardcore Senate loyalists... another term. 

And they’re doing it for the same reason they originally held their noses and went along... to save their party from the brink of irrelevance in a world where the blast doors of history are closing on old school conservatism.*

Which brings us to TikTok...

The deadline for the TikTok ban, as outlined by a sketchy executive order by Trump a while back, draws near.  

And while American companies like Microsoft and WalMart scrambled to get a deal done in time, China also chimed in last week and said... Yeah, no... if ByteDance sells it’s American operations... the new owners can’t have the algorithm without our say so... and... we’d rather see TikTok die in America than bow to Trump’s silly demands so... haha, just saying! :D

Meanwhile, TikTok has been challenging the original executive order in court, and everybody is now saying even if the deadline passes, Trump can’t just shut down an app like that... and he’d have to get both Android and Apple to agree to disable it in their app stores... which would lead to more litigation and... well, it could take many more months than Trump has left in power, to sort out.

Unless he gets reelected... or successfully remains in power despite being voted out.

Which brings us to the aliens!..

Monday night (September 14th) TikTok was suddenly flooded with videos of UFO sightings over the United States... concentrated in, but not limited to New Jersey, Colorado, and Nevada.  

The earliest and most viral of these was being debunked immediately as the GoodYear Blimp, but... the people at Goodyear Blimp have since said, no... that was not our blimp.

The videos depict a lot of different types of UFOs... they don’t all look the same.  Some were singular glowing orbs, or true flying saucer looking crafts, while other videos showed groups of strange lights acting in concert.

The common denominator for all of them, however, was... all are pretty lengthy and clear... corroborated by multiple TikTokers in any given area... and all have so far defied any rational explanation.

Blimps, drones, skydivers with flares, swamp gas, you name it... none of the off the cuff discredits have yet proven out... much less any explanation for why so many sightings happened simultaneously across the continent.

Of course, lots of alien lovers have been quick to tell us this is some message of peace or whatever... but when something like this happens, I can only go to my own model, as established here in this blog.

And I can draw no other conclusion than this... the Aliens were behind it, and they were deliberately using TikTok to spook Trump... and the other powerful men in his Junta (Barr, McConnell, etc).

Recall that earlier this year I speculated that Kim Jong Un was not only dead, but that it was likely the Aliens who killed him, because he was too likely to start a nuclear war.

North Korea has yet to admit that Jong Un is dead... but the rest of the world assumes, these many months later, that he must be.  He’s not re-emerged, and the few video reels of him released this year... barely even try to be convincing.

The media hasn’t talked much about this, because so much other shit’s been going on this year... but no... I’m not backing off my conclusion that he’s dead, because nothing’s come along to even slightly prove me wrong on that, much less embarrass me about that conclusion.

He’s dead.  

The aliens killed him.

And now those same aliens are using TikTok to spook Trump.

This implies that Aliens are a lot more familiar with the intimate details of our daily life than we normally think... knowing not only that we all have smart phones with cameras, but that we also have a hugely popular app that would ensure any sightings would go viral immediately... and that this is the same app Trump is trying to shut down.

What’s the message for Trump?

Well, first... a bit more context...

This past week, the other huge story in the news has been the west coast wild fires.  We’ve seen out of control wildfires on the Pacific coast in late summer for the past four years, as we did in Australia in their late summer, this past January... but this year’s fires in America have been record breaking in terms of their devastation.

The aliens... who’ve been monitoring this planet periodically since humans first learned of fire... paying closer attention after we developed electricity... and who have been permanently stationed in the solar system since we figured out fission bombs at the end of WW2... have had, as their main objective, to stand down, and observe us... unless the planet is in danger of a cascading failure due to either a nuclear or climate catastrophe... or both.  

In such cases, they are willing to intervene... for the sake of preserving the level of intelligence, and diversity of life that’s evolved here... because it takes so goddam long for this kind of intelligence, and this kind of diversity to evolve in the first place.  

Still, they’d always rather just hang back and observe.  

So... since World War Two... they’ve tolerated all kinds of nuclear bomb testing, and everything else, without feeling the need to do much more than hint, to world leaders, that humanity may not be alone in the universe.

Until very recently, when they pinpointed two individuals who were a direct threat to the planet... Kim Jong Un, and Donald Trump.  

Jong Un had no real impact on the climate, but he did pose a nuclear threat, dangerous enough, they had to intervene and just off him.

Trump poses both a nuclear threat, and a climate threat, so... Jong Un’s death was a first warning sign, and this latest stunt on TikTok, at the peak of the wildfires, is yet another.

Don’t think you’re commanding the most powerful military force in the universe, because you’re not.  We’re real, and you can’t touch us.  We know what you’re doing.  We know what you fear (TikTok), and we WILL take you out, Space Force or no Space Force... buddy!

Assuming I’m right about this... which I think you at least have to grant is possible this late in the game, given all that’s happened... it’s an unprecidented show of force, from an intergalactic army so shy of confrontation, we barely have any evidence they exist.

That tells you what a dire juncture we are at, right now, on this timeline**.

But the fact that the aliens would use TikTok to make this statement... does seem to suggest that they do have AI bot agents, on our internet, who are in communication with our own advanced AI bots from the future, left behind by our time travelers... and that they are all in cahoots to save the timeline.

Recall that while Alien propulsion tech is likely based in the manupulation of microsingularities, or mini-black holes, to frame-drag spacetime around the ship... for Aliens it’s more about space travel, than time travel.

Time travel doesn’t really mean anything on intergalactic scales.  It only has meaning for primitive humans hanging very close to Earth, moving back and forth through the span of a few decades locally, to grab objects, get footage, and leave bot agents behind to promote human rights.

The aliens hanging out in our solar system are more or less just as pinned to our timeline as we are... or the bots those time travelers leave behind.

And if you don’t get that by now, I would suggest reading back in earlier entries, but maybe I’ll do another one as a refresher soon.

It was encouraging to see a TikToker on my For You Page this past week actually mention John Titor, and go into a little depth about him, but as usual, nobody could follow it.***

But more encouraging was this display by the aliens, that gave the first confirmation I’ve seen, that they do know and care what’s going on down here, in times as dire as we’re currently living through.

And with that roundup of a week’s news... it is time for bed.

*With GenX turning 50, Millenials turning 30, and GenZ turning 20, the tide is turning forever away from old school conservatism, with all of it’s racism, sexism, and classism. November 2020 could be the first time, all three of these generations turn out to the polls in force (millenials were too apathetic before this, and Z was too young to vote) to drown out the fading influence of the Boomers and Silents, once and for all.

My guess, as I’ve said, is that the current anti-Trump conservatives will all move to the Democratic Party, leaving the Republican Party to die as a haven for neo nazis and KKK sympathizers... while the progressive left will form a new party to counter the comparatively conservative new democrats, who at least acknowledge climate change, and don’t pin everything else on the single issue of abortion.

**Worth noting that this passed week news also broke that scientists had detected a marker for microbial life in the atmosphere of Venus.  It appears to be the strongest evidence yet that life is not exclusive to Earth.

***Not to suggest I’m so much more clever than ordinary people.  It took me upwards of fifteen years of studying physics through videos, lectures, and audio books to get the full picture of how Titor’s distortion unit worked, and how the many worlds theory resolves the kinds of paradoxes most people imagine would happen. 

[xsparklingravenx]

Miscommunication 3

Title: Miscommunication

Fandom: NieR Automata

Characters: A2, 2B, 9S, Pod 042, Pascal

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,967

Summary:  After coming across an old face in the ruins of the forest village, A2 has to come to terms with the things she's done, and whatever the future might hold for her.

Post Ending E.

AO3

Amusement Park / City Ruins / Forest Village

The path to the forest was clear as A2 walked it, and yet her purpose felt muddied. She followed 2B and 9S as they lead the way, keeping a steady distance from them while they made conversation. 9S did most of the talking; pointing out every interesting sight he spotted while 2B replied in short sentences. It didn’t seem to deter him. If anything, it only encouraged him to say more.

Their next destination was the forest’s castle, where 9S claimed he’d met the other scanner unit he’d mentioned before. It was a hike to get all the way out there, but 2B had no objections towards it, and A2 didn’t care where they went as long as they were actively doing something. The Pods didn’t have anything to say on the matter, so that was the plan, for better or for worse.

As they walked, A2 wondered how long they would be able to keep this up. She wouldn’t stay with them forever, she knew as much even now. There would come a day where there would be nothing left to find, nothing left to do, and A2 would drift from them and go back to the way she always had been; alone, apathetic, searching for a purpose in a desolate landscape. Maybe she would hunt the machines that were left, maybe she would eventually degrade and break down and join her dead companions as she finally promised. Whatever would come would come, and she would embrace the day when it finally arrived.

She’d go and see Anemone once more before then, though. She owed her that much.

The conversation between 2B and 9S flowed surprisingly well given the awkward distance that had plagued the two up until the events of the amusement park. She caught snippets of it here and there, meaningless chatter about the taste of fish that might have grated on her nerves a few weeks ago. Now she just let them talk, aware that this was important in a way, that they needed this kind of interaction to fix what had happened between them.

Pod 042 floated beside her. “Does Unit A2 not wish to engage in conversation?”

A2 screwed up her face at the thought. “Nope. Go back and stay with them”

Pod 042 didn’t move. “Proposal: Unit A2 should join in and offer her own opinion to the discussion.”

“Proposal: leave me alone.” A2 said, walking ahead of it. The city ruins melted into the lush wildlife, trees reaching for the sky while lush grass sprung up from the ground. It was peaceful, calm. A2 thought of the baby king that she had slain and wondered if she was supposed to feel bad.

They weren’t going to the castle straight away. First they would pass through the village that had once been home to the peaceful machines. A knot formed in A2’s chest, tight and painful. It wasn’t a foreign feeling; A2 had been wound in messy, fraying loops for years. It was only recently it had all begun to unravel, and even then it was slow going.

2B had no idea what awaited, how empty that little village was now. A2 felt cold, remembering the way she had built that slide for the children, the way Pascal had asked her for that book the last time they’d met before everything went to hell. Would she have acted differently, had she known what was about to happen? Before the factory, machines had only ever been the enemy. After, they had become a lesson.

She could still hear the way Pascal’s voice broke in two when they ran back into the factory.

9S fell quiet as they walked the path that would take them to the village. Did he know? She wouldn’t be surprised if he had made his way through here in his grief-fuelled rampage. “2B.” A2 said. “There’s something you should know.”

“Hm? Go ahead.” 2B said.

“The logic virus hit this place hard.” she said curtly. There was no need to dress it up, no reason to dance around the subject. If there was one thing A2 hated, it was when other androids couldn’t get to the damn point. “No one got out.”

2B came to a halt, sudden and silent. In between everything had happened, the topic of the village had been mostly forgotten. When 2B and 9S had their own issues to work out, everything else that had happened hadn’t been important. “Oh.” she said, and then a moment later, “I see.”

“No use in moping about it.” A2 said, taking the lead when she didn’t make to move. “Shit happens. They were just machines anyway.”

Just machines, she thought, but she couldn’t get the memories out of what had happened out of her head.

A2 knew that 2B had cared about the village too. She had shared in her memories, known the way 2B had felt about everything. She and 9S had helped the inhabitants over and over, fulfilling requests, listening to what they had to say.  They knew this place intimately. It had to hurt.

“They’re in a better place.” 9S said lamely, likely parroting something he’d heard another android say. She’d heard that phrase before too, and felt the urge to press him on it, ask him if he truly knew what he was saying.

Before she could say anything, though, she recalled No. 4 and the rest of the squad. If they weren’t in a better place, how would she ever meet them again when this was all over? She couldn’t decry his words when she’d said to him so definitively that she would meet them after she finally shut down, and maybe a part of her wanted to believe it. There had to be something better than this waiting for them all, or what was the point?

Not waiting for either of them, A2 made her way further into the forest, closer to the village. She saw the bridge that lead in, memories of visiting flashing through her mind. Hundreds of machines waving flags of pure white, softly chiming that they didn’t want to fight. It wasn’t a memory that belonged to her, but rather, one that was 2B’s. It was such a human thing to do, waving that flag. A2 faltered for a second before she pressed on.

She was not prepared to see Pascal standing in the village’s centre, looking around like he didn’t know where he was. She froze by the stand where a machine had once sold her weapons, her circuits stuttering as she took in his shape, the way he looked perfectly unharmed, how he was identical to the day she had ripped away his memories and left him behind.

Her breath hitched. “Pascal.” she said, and he turned to face her.

“Pascal?” he said, and he sounded so normal, so unlike the machine that fallen to his knees in despair in the wake of a dozen or more dead children. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure who that is. Regardless, hello there. Can I help you?”

A2 stared. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” she said. “You’re—you came back here? What the hell!”

Pascal’s bright green eyes were innocent. He pressed his claw-like hands together. “Do you know this place well? I came here after wandering for some time, but only found junk. I don’t suppose you would like to purchase some?”

He made a sweeping gesture to a pile by his feet. It took A2 a moment to register what she was looking at; a heap of machine parts. This was her doing, she thought. She created the Pascal that stood in front of her. It took her a moment to find her words. “No. No, I don’t want any of that shit. I--”

She stopped. What was there to say? Pascal had asked for his memories to be erased so he could escape the pain. This was what he’d wanted, and she had done as he had asked.

She heard footsteps behind her, 2B and 9S. “Pascal?” 9S said, sounding as surprised as she had.

A2 turned and shook her head. “Don’t.” she said. “He doesn’t remember anything.”

“Oh, are these friends of yours?” Pascal said. “Would any of you like to purchase anything? I don’t have much use for these items myself, but I would hate for them to go to waste.”

2B’s face was hard to read. “What happened?” she said, and her voice was cold.

A2 knew what the issue was. 2B would have a problem with this no matter which way she spun the tale, and that was fair enough; 2B had dealt with being forgotten more times than A2 would ever know. She doubted 9S would have the capacity to understand either, given how tightly he clung to his own memories, but that was their problem, not hers. Lowering her voice, she told them the truth, plain and simple. “He saw the kids in his care die by their own hands because he taught them fear. I don’t blame him for wanting his memories wiped, and he said it was either that or I kill him. I wasn’t going to just leave him to stew in his own despair.”

2B’s mouth thinned. “It is true.” Pod 153 said. “Myself and Pod 042 conferred about the matter, and agree that Unit A2 acted accordingly.”

“You didn’t tell us he survived.” 2B said.

“Has he?” A2 said. “He’s not the Pascal you knew. I wiped everything at his insistence. He didn’t want to remember the pain. He was the one who felt guilty for what happened.”

9S didn’t look convinced. “Seriously…? But, wouldn’t it have been better for him to remember and work through it?”

“Does it matter?” A2 said sharply. “It’s done, he’s happy. I did what was right.”

“But what about No. 4?” 9S said, and her name struck A2 like a dagger in her metal ribs. “Would you want to forget her, just so it didn’t hurt anymore?”

Anger flooded her body, red hot. “What the hell do you know? Don’t you dare use her name against me!”

Silence. Birds flitted from the trees above at her outburst. She realised, belatedly, that her hands were clenched. Why was she so wound up? Why had the knot inside her coiled up so tight that she could barely breathe? If she knew she had done right, why was she so on the defensive?

Had there been another way?

“Excuse me?” Pascal said, his voice as soft as it ever was. “Is everything okay? Can I help you with anything?”

“Mind your own damn business.” A2 snapped. She stalked past him, her heels smashing harshly into the floor. Where she was going, she didn’t know. She needed somewhere to cool off, to think, to pretend that she knew what she wanted when for the first time in a long time, she felt directionless and like she was in the wrong.

The other two didn’t come after her. Everything had been so easy once. She killed machines, she killed YoRHa who came after her, she did what she needed to do and repaired herself as she needed. When 2B entrusted her with her final wish, she worked to fulfil it. When Pascal asked her to wipe his memories, she had done it without hesitating.

And now everything had changed. There was no war to be fought. Humanity was a lie. She was purposeless and yet she was still here. No. 4, No. 16, and No. 21 had been gone for so long, lifetimes, and she was still here.

“Would you want to forget her, just so it didn’t hurt anymore?”

She wanted to destroy something just to feel it break. Who had he been, to say something like that? She had told him that story so he could understand her, not so he could use it as ammunition. She thought of 2B, with her unreadable expression. It wasn’t A2’s problem if she approved or disapproved of her actions.

“Unit A2 should consider other options before storming off like that. It was rather embarrassing.”

Pod 042’s voice dragged her from her thoughts. She’d managed to walk into the forest itself, but there were no machines in sight. Looking up at the Pod, she scowled. “Do you think I give a shit? What do you want?”

“Unit 2B sent me after you.” it paused, hovering in place. “Pod 153 states that Unit 9S knows what he said was wrong, and wants to apologise.”

“Tell him to shove it. I don’t want it.”

“Unit A2 is being unreasonable, and should endeavour to be more cooperative.” Pod 042 said. Before she could reply, it spoke again. “Proposal: Unit A2 should state her intentions.”

It was like hearing an echo of a time long passed. “My intentions?” she barked a laugh. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“That is what Unit A2 said the first time I asked. I require a different answer now.”

She opened her mouth to reply, and then stopped.

“Ten seconds have passed. Proposal: Unit A2 should state her intentions.”

She looked down at her hands, blackened from where her skin had worn away. “Screw you, making me think about this.” she said under her breath. This was her. Beneath everything, she had nothing. No purpose, no intentions. She did as she was asked, even if it wasn’t always the right option.

She was going to drift from the other two, and she would die alone.

“Tell me, Pod.” she said. “What was the right choice?”

“Are you referring to Pascal?” it said. “Unknown.”

“As useless as always.”

“Incorrect.” Pod 042 said. “Instead, I mean to say that there is no right answer. Unit 2B and Unit 9S may not agree with Unit A2’s methods, but they are not the machine life form known as Pascal.”

A2 sat in the grass, one knee up with her arm resting on it. “Just say that in the first place then.” she said. “Tell the others I’m waiting.”

“Affirmative. Proposal: Unit A2 should state her intentions.”

It wasn’t going to give up. She knew that from the first time. Before, she’d given it some half assed answer about destroying machines, but now that didn’t feel right. There had to be something in her that strived for more. There had to be a purpose buried deep beneath everything that made her who she was.

She was still thinking about it when 9S and 2B showed up, Pascal in tow. “Why is he here?” she asked when she laid eyes on him.

“I was told that there was a ‘resistance camp’, and that there was someone there I could speak to.” Pascal said, sounding rather pleased. “2B is very lovely. She said that they might be able to find a place for me there.”

“I just thought it would be better for you to have something to do, instead of staying in the village.” 2B said. A2 met her eyes, saw the kindness in them. 2B was quiet, sometimes cold, but she was gentle too. A2 envied her for a brief moment, how she had managed to stay that way even despite her designation.

She looked towards 9S, who managed to make eye contact too. She gave him credit for it. “Uh. Guess I should apologise. So…yeah. I shouldn’t have said that stuff and all. I’m sorry.”

“Make sure you don’t do it again.” A2 said, standing again. “So, let me guess, we’re gonna haul ourselves all the way back to the resistance camp, then back out here again?”

“Something like that.” 9S nodded.

“Great.” A2 said. “You go on ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

9S frowned, but went to Pascal’s side. 2B hung back though, even as the other two began to move. A2 expected her to say something, but when she proved unwilling to start a conversation, A2 took the initiative. “What?”

“I won’t pretend I agree with what you did.” she said, “But I understand why you did it.”

A2’s smile was sardonic on her lips. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t made for this kind of thing.” 2B shifted on the spot. She was uncomfortable and it showed. “Pascal isn’t the Pascal we knew, the same way 9S isn’t any of the 9S’s I’ve met before him. But at their core, there is something that remains, something that makes them who they are. Pascal may not remember, but he hasn’t changed.”

There it was. Androids dancing around the topic. “Get to the point.”

“He will become who he was again.” 2B said. “And, I think that you will too, A2.”

The sudden addition caught her off guard. “What was that?”

“I don’t know you well, but I do know that there’s something to you that is missing.” 2B looked unsure for a moment, as if she didn’t want to say anything more. “Whatever that is, I’m sure you’ll find it. In the meantime, I appreciate you working with us. Thank you for everything you’ve done, A2.”

She offered a smile, something real, something that A2 never thought she would see directed at anyone other than 9S. The knot inside her unwound, ever so slightly.

“Over five minutes have passed.” Pod 042 said. “Proposal: Unit A2 should state her intentions.”

A2 ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. “Heh, alright. I’m gonna meet the future head on, Pod. No more meandering, no more whining, no more doubting. My squadron here and now is something worth protecting, so that’s what I’ll work towards.” she paused. “I won’t have another Pascal. Not again.”

“Good answer.” said Pod 042, and if she didn’t know better, she could have sworn she heard a smugness to its tone.

#Nier Automata #A2 #yorha a2 #2B #9S #yorha 2b #My Writing

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Jonita Davis on The Black Cape: Film Review: ‘New Mutants’ and Why Cheap Narrative Tricks Hit Different in Fall 2020

I get that New Mutants was under a lot of pressure to be great, to be cool, to be the hot summer blockbuster that its fellow Avengers films were. However, so much has changed in this nation since the COVID-19 lockdown in March that what was cool a year ago (or even in January 2020), may not crack a smile on an audience today. We are more aware, and more on edge, people who have been fighting an invisible virus and watching (and helping) our country fight for Black lives. Essential workers, mandatory masks, and social distancing define our lives now. We are hardened, so it takes a lot more to impress us. Unfortunately, New Mutants hits all the wrong notes with an audience who also had to decide if we wanted to risk infection just to see the film.

For many of you, the answer to that question may just be, “I should’ve stayed at home.”

It Starts Good

The base story has good intentions. Dani is a Native American girl whose reservation gets destroyed. She is told that it was a tornado, but Dani remembers it being a lot more than that. Her fears are confirmed when she wakes up handcuffed to a bed at a mental hospital. After a full scene of her dragging a bed around to check out the room, we get the story or part of it. Dr. Reyes (Alice Braga) is the doctor in charge of the hospital, which has others in it. They are there to gather information about Dani’s powers and to help her control them. Once she does that, Dani can go stay with the doctor’s friend, who we get every indication of as Professor X (unless you read the comics—then you know better).

  Dani meets the other apathetic teens who are really interesting at first. Sam (Charlie Heaton) is all busted up with his arm in a cast. He wears a cap and looks as though someone is beating him. We later find that he is beating himself, trying to harness his power to get out of the hospital. Magik (Anya-Taylor Joy) is a pale, blonde stereotypical mean girl who has a serious chip on her shoulder. We later find out why, and how she is the most powerful of the bunch—too powerful for this film too. Roberto (Henry Zaga) is a rich kid who is out of touch with just about everything. He throws away his clothes rather than wash them for re-wear. His power is hidden until too much later in the film based on a guilt complex that I am not sure a privileged kid like Roberto would even feel. Rahne (Maisie Williams) is the only chipper one. She shapeshifts into a wolf and gives a whole new understanding of the devastation of religious trauma.

We slowly find out Dani’s power as each of her hospital mates are plagued by real life and murderous figments of their memories and nightmares. The Demon Bear does make an explosive appearance as well. Everyone does figure out how the horrors and Dani are connected. It happens around the same time that they meet the real Dr. Reyes. She isn’t so motherly when her protection is smothering the breath out of each one of the teens.

These Cheap Tricks Hit Different Now

Together, these are the New Mutants, but not yet. They are meant to be horror’s answer to The Breakfast Club, but their chemistry falls flat, probably due to writing that is not up to the standards of the X-Men comics. New Mutants was written by Josh Boone, who is best known for the saccharine teen drama Fault in Our Stars. You can tell that he was trying oh so hard to make these kids feel as edgy and weird as possible. But he did so by relying on the same stereotypes and tropes that BIPOC and LGBTQ creators have been calling out for years. That strategy worked to get the kids to care about his past work.

Now, audiences have been held captive while social media has served up lessons in nuance, microaggression, anti-racism, and more. Now, your average white housewife is posting in her mommy groups about the oversexualization of girls of color in something she just saw. Boone should’ve read the room before release and brought in a sensitivity reader to at least rework some of the problems.

You will feel it. Magik’s attacks on Dani are so blatantly forced and racist that they will make audience members cringe. Repeat after me, people, “You CAN writer mean girls without being racist.” Just look at the source material. In the comics, Magik was all kinds of horrible, but she was also superficial and was not invested enough to care about another person’s race or otherwise. Racism is not an opportunist behavior. It’s intentional and comes from a different place than the typical mean girl attitude.

The relationship between Rahne and Dani also seemed like it should’ve just been girls being intimately close. Girl relationships are oversexualized by men who fail to understand how close girl relationships can get. Girls can care an awful lot about another girl and those feeling reciprocated without wanting sex. As much as I am a champion of LGBTQ representation onscreen, I have to say that their relationship felt like a trope—oversexualization of girls–and maybe even a last-minute add to the script.

And Other Problems…

Another flaw is Magik. She is the most controversial character because she replaced a Vietnamese member of the team, Kharma. Boone was quoted as saying that Kharma’s story was so big that it would’ve overpowered the narrative. Well, Magik’s actually did that, so why again did we not get Kharma? I think I know why. Magik is the only one with a larger than life power that is like a rock video, or video game when she fully unleashes it. I think she was thrown in to enhance the visuals. Her whole arch seems like it could’ve been dissected from the film and real horror elements stitched in to scare the popcorn out of the audience.

The scare factor is another issue. I watched the film alone in a theater and was not the least bit affected by any of the things I saw. The jumps were nonexistent because you could predict where they would occur. The scary faceless men that we saw in the trailers were scarier in the trailers. Even the Demon Bear, when we finally see it, strikes nothing. New Mutants feels like it had so much more to say, to give. But it had to stop because the bell rang, and its mommy was picking it up after school.

A Mixed Bag

The film is saved by the acting chops of the talent onscreen. They try their best with what they were given, and the effects are not bad either. They just needed some better storytelling and direction to guide them to greatness. There are still lessons here.  The next time a film is telling a story from the POV of an Indigenous character, maybe we should get an indigenous director to work this, instead of the guy I cannot end this without a word of caution. Seeing this film is not more important than your health. It is my prediction that Disney will have it available around the time Mulan is free. Decide for yourself, of course! Just keep in mind that this film may not be worth risking your life for. In 2016, yeah it would’ve been the film to see. Today, better wait for streaming.

Rating 2 of 5

The post Film Review: ‘New Mutants’ and Why Cheap Narrative Tricks Hit Different in Fall 2020 appeared first on The Black Cape Magazine.

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[mastcomm]

100,000 People did not have to die of coronavirus

100,000 People didn’t have to die. Above Mr. Trump

By Umair Haque

America simply handed the grimmest of milestones. 100 thousand useless of Coronavirus. How can sense be made from a such a colossal quantity? The thoughts reels. It’s staggering. When I give it some thought, my head spins.

I feel, although, that it’s such an enormous quantity that it virtually turns into meaningless. So let me attempt to put it in context for you.

Let me apologise to Don Lemon for borrowing his chyron as a title. I hope he doesn’t thoughts. I don’t typically agree with CNN. However Don is precisely proper on this case. The plain implication right here is that with accountable, sturdy, and decisive management — and perhaps a inhabitants keen to comply with alongside — America’s loss of life toll may have been lowered massively. And America — perhaps the entire world — must suppose tougher about what “100 thousand deaths” actually means.

Umair Haque: America ought to have performed what New Zealand did

You’re most likely going to be shocked by what you’re about to learn. You need to be. Listed below are three easy information everybody ought to know.

The primary one, the apparent one, is that America has the world’s highest loss of life toll — by a catastrophically great distance which People nonetheless don’t actually know. How a lot so, although? Right here’s a quantity that you simply most likely don’t know, that ought to stun you awake. Have you learnt how many individuals died in New Zealand? 21. Simply twenty one.

Reality two: America’s 100,000 deaths are virtually solely useless. Sure, actually: solely useless. They by no means wanted to occur. Let me show it to you with some simple arithmetic that even a schoolchild can deal with. New Zealand has a inhabitants of 5 million. These 21 folks that died in New Zealand are .00042% of that inhabitants. So what’s the proportional quantity for America? America’s inhabitants is 330 million. What’s .00042% of 330 million? Go forward and take a guess. 10,000? 15,000? 20,000? It’s 1500.

If America had acted like New Zealand, simply fifteen hundred individuals may have died. As a substitute, 100,000 individuals have died. Take into consideration that for a second.

Now, that’s a again of the envelope calculation. Really the quantity is nearer to 1400, however you get my level. Positive, you possibly can say that America’s obtained denser cities or worse healthcare or 100 different complicating components. The purpose is that this. Fifteen hundred versus 100 thousand isn’t an affordable distinction. You possibly can quintuple New Zealand’s numbers to be beneficiant in the direction of America — and find yourself at solely 6,000 deaths. You’re nonetheless…two orders of magnitude…as in complete decimal locations…away from 100,000. That’s stunning. It’s surreal.

The calculation I’ve made above is straightforward, nevertheless it’s not inaccurate. It’s why even Columbia College epidemiologists calculate 90% or so of American Coronavirus deaths by no means wanted to occur. You possibly can go forward and low cost that, in case you like. To 85%, 80%, 70%. We’re nonetheless speaking about mass loss of life on a scale that’s unparalleled in fashionable historical past.

This can be a loss of life toll so excessive that, as many commentators level out, it exceeds these of all America’s fashionable wars — and there have been many — put collectively.

So why does America have such a excessive loss of life toll?

Reality three: America did virtually every part improper, and that’s Donald Trump’s fault. Pointless loss of life on a mass scale can be his legacy. New Zealand had so few deaths as a result of it did every part proper. Not as a result of — and this issues — of luck, a fluke, or simply plain anomaly. It locked down early and firmly. It examined and traced. It had a nationwide technique to flatten the curve — and it ended up crunching it. The inhabitants adopted proper alongside, and the Prime Minister saved them inspired, oriented, and directed. The consequence was — once more — simply 21 deaths.

Let me reverse the sooner calculation, to place that quantity in context, and present you what the implications of following each science and customary sense actually are. America’s loss of life toll is about .033% of it’s inhabitants of 330,00,000. If that share had utilized in New Zealand, it will have had 1500 deaths. As a substitute, it had simply 21. Fifteen hundred, versus…simply twenty one.

America, against this, did every part that was doable to do improper, roughly. The failure of management and establishments rests firmly at Donald Trump’s doorstep. Let me show that, too.

In January, Trump stated: “It’s one particular person coming in from China, and we now have it underneath management. It’s going to be simply high quality.” It’s going to be simply high quality?

In February, he stated: “It’s going to vanish. Sooner or later it’s like a miracle — it would disappear.” A miracle? What a crackpot. And but at this stage you might already see catastrophe unfolding. America wanted a nationwide technique at this stage — not thinly veiled Biblical references designed to please Trump’s base of fringe lunatics and extremists.

On March 4th, Trump remarked that the flu was worse than Coronavirus, and stated the WHO’s predicted loss of life tolls had been based mostly on a hunch.

Then, on the 10th, this fool of idiots, contradicting himself, stated: “This was sudden… And it hit the world. And we’re ready, and we’re doing an amazing job with it. And it’ll go away. Simply keep calm. It’s going to go away.”

On March 11: “The overwhelming majority of People, the danger may be very, very low.” By now, with no nationwide technique, the pandemic was spreading like wildfire throughout the nation — and deaths had been starting to occur.

On March 27th, Trump stated: ‘You possibly can name it a germ, you possibly can name it a flu, you possibly can name it a virus, you recognize you possibly can name it many various names. I’m undecided anyone even is aware of what it’s.” What the? It’s known as Coronavirus…for a purpose.

Just some days later, about 5,000 individuals had already died.

Round then, Trump pleaded: “No person would ever consider a factor like that’s doable. No person may have ever seen one thing like this coming,” No person — besides the collected scientists of the world, and most of its sane individuals, too. The one individuals who actually couldn’t see it coming — or didn’t wish to — had been Trump, and his military of American Idiots. However denial was about to have much more devastating penalties.

On April 14th, to the world’s shock, Trump halted the WHO’s funding.

On April 16th, he stated: “When it’s all performed, it’s going to be, I feel, a really stunning image.” By that day, 33,000 People had died.

Trump started to close up, lastly, round then.

And on the weekend that America crossed the hundred thousand mark, the place was he? {Golfing}.

Condolences poured in from leaders across the globe. Trump? He had nothing to say.

As a substitute, he threatened to signal an govt order railing towards social media firms.

The story that historical past will inform, ought to inform is that this.

A lunatic President allowed mass loss of life to occur on a scale that may solely be described as obscene, monstrous, and inhuman. 100 thousand lives had been misplaced for no good purpose in any way. Just because there was no route, no steerage, no orientation, no technique. No struggle within the struggle. Its chief was all hat and no cattle. He pitted states towards each other — and blockaded essential provides from reaching them. What the?

That is the stuff of failed states writ within the neon letters of historical past. 100 thousand deaths, the place there may have been lower than 5 thousand. Six digits, the place there may have barely been 4. That is what it means to be a collapsed society. A spot the place life itself appears to haven’t any intrinsic value or worth. This. Pointless loss of life on a scale so huge, it’s mind-numbing and heart-stopping.

That is what individuals like me have tried to warn of taking place for a decade or extra now. Social collapse which signifies that leaders can get away with irresponsibility and negligence that leaves big chunks of a society…useless.

That’s the place America is, proper about now.

And People, too, appeared weirdly detached. Perhaps they had been weary, panicked, or resigned. Who can say? However the place nations like Spain had days of mourning, the place nations united in shock and grief…America handed the hundred thousand mark with no single form of expression of collective sorrow.

However then once more. College shootings. Cops killing yet one more defenseless black man. Folks selecting to not have chemotherapy or operations so their households wouldn’t lose their properties. Coronavirus was simply one other means, ultimately, that People appeared inured to violence, to brutality, to loss of life. Apathetic, resigned, unmoved. The world was shocked. A society of people that’d been exploited into dehumanization…legendary for his or her cruelty…now on the level of merely shrugging at mass loss of life. Sufficient of them, no less than, for this colossal tragedy to barely register as a political and social disaster.

“Who cared?” many People appeared to say — if not of their phrases, then of their actions. There have been loads of American Idiots who had been comfortable to have pool events whereas all this was happening. What the? Getting bare in a pool filled with strangers throughout a pandemic that’s inflicting loss of life on a scale better than all of your wars put collectively? You possibly can’t really be this mindless, this heartless, this silly. Are you able to? The world was aghast at America’s indifference, its deafening silence, its negligence.

However maybe that was as a result of America’s media, too, did not contextualize this quantity for the typical American, too. What’s “100 thousand deaths”? In the course of a worldwide pandemic? In occasions like these, nothing appears regular. Every thing turns the other way up. No person in America media identified that if America had adopted New Zealand’s method, it will have had simply 1500 deaths. Nevertheless it didn’t — and as an alternative it had a 100,000.

Actually no one. Not the pundits, not the columnists, not the speaking heads. It went over their heads, perhaps. Perhaps no one wished to inform the reality. Perhaps it was too uncomfortable to talk.

No person in any respect, actually, appeared fascinating in telling this story. Have been People involved in listening to it?

I don’t know. I suppose that’s why I took the time to put in writing this essay, which stuffed me with a form of sorrow that phrases can by no means do justice to.

Umair Haque first printed this text in Medium

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30 years ago, do not care about 29 things, a woman before the age of 30 do not care about 29 things

What should a woman care about? What should I not care about? Look at the 29 things the woman didn't care about before she was 30. You must have understood. In this life, you always have the things you care about most, and the things you don't want to care about. Of course, we should care about, we still want to care about, can not care about the best, do not impose on yourself. In this way, people can live happier and more relaxed in this life.

1, give up

The opposite is to give up; to choose an opportunity is to give up all the other possibilities. When new opportunities are ahead, dare to give up everything has been obtained, it is not the work not completed, give up halfway, this is to seek greater development space; or what not to do, just because of love, because young is the biggest opportunity. People are only thirty years old before the courage to have this qualification.

2, lovelorn

I don't care, I don't care. What is most afraid of losing before thirty is not what you already have, but what you dream about. If love is just a process, then this is the age should experience, if you want to bear the results, after thirty years old, may be more capable, more qualified. In fact, we have to do a lot of things before the age of thirty, transient, long has been indulging in a dry riverbed in love, and the life rhythm of this age is.

3, divorce

No, I don't care. Everything is still in time. A thirty-eight year old girlfriend and husband married fifteen years, the cold war thirteen years, and finally break up. "If she didn't want to divorce for the sake of the kids," he said, "he made his first divorce. I didn't agree. Now I want to. I really don't know why.". If I had broken up earlier, my life would have never been like this. Now that I have started all over again, I always feel it's too late.

4, wandering

Wandering is not a misfortune, but a qualification. While no family burden, while health, drifting when? Of course, the wandering is not necessarily the body, perhaps just fantasy and dreams. The fashion leader of the new century is the floating generation, eager to drift, the only thing that does not float is the heart.

5, unemployment

Thirty years old before the taste of unemployment, of course, is an unfortunate thing, but not necessarily a bad thing. Thirty years old before premature fixed in a career, this life may be the biggest misfortune. Unemployment may remind you of dreams that have been buried for a long time and may even awaken the potential that you never knew before. Maybe you didn't have a dream, and this time it forced you to dream.

6, fashion

Don't follow the fashion. Ordinarily, young people should be the most fashionable, but independent thinking and personal life is more important. In this material society, in fact, the pursuit of fashion has long been a pursuit of money. Today, fashion is synonymous with materialism and worldly desires.

7, style

This is petty bourgeois, the word "petty bourgeoisie" is popular two times today, and the pursuit of style is their patent. Petty bourgeoisie said, there are style to meet the four major elements: wisdom, accomplishment, self-confidence and money. Style is the idea of "noble" as a sense of dress, temperament, taste, and interior decoration. It is an only display style of "petty bourgeoisie" vulgar, has the ability to vulgarthey the mind. Not to non mainstream concepts of offbeat, offbeat ideas have become the mainstream of young people, today seem old-fashioned offbeat. The key is that today's society is an age of creative ideas, not a period of old ideas.

8, evaluation

The last thing we should do is change ourselves because of other people's opinions, because those who tell you what you are doing do not know what they are following. Never do things according to the rules. The rules are still being created. You should do everything on your own judgment, though it will be a little troublesome.

9, childish

Don't be afraid to say we are naive, this means you are young and energetic. "Mature" is a frightening word is a menace. Maturity and immaturity are the greatest, no, least responsible, useless generalizations of a person. The person said they would someone naive. Do not believe, one day you life pressure to be old apathetic when people will say you are ripe, you will know what is "mature".

10, do not adapt

In one rock, there's the phrase, "this city changed me. This city doesn't need me.". Don't blindly adapt to the environment in which you live, for it is likely that the environment has not adapted itself to the development of this society.

11, failure

My teacher once told me that a man should be lovelorn at least once, fail once in his career, and make a mistake in his choice to grow up. Don't say failure is the mother of success. As an old saying goes, failure comes as early as possible. If you are thirty years old, then you will fail again after forty years of age, and some things will probably be too late.

12, mistakes:

Every man has a record of making mistakes, but he does not encourage repeating the same mistakes. If you think there is anyone who has never made a mistake, then this is your mistake: everyone has the right to make mistakes, but do not advocate the same mistakes, if you think of someone who never make mistakes, that is your mistake.

By the age of 30 can make mistakes, as long as it is not a fatal mistake! Before the age of 30 is to avoid making mistakes again after 30 years of age, who were unable to avoid repeated mistakes, but as long as the lessons, there will always be changed once! Want to repeat the error does not occur after the age of 30!

13, shallow

Every time I watch "Titanic", I shed tears. Every time I watch "Westward Journey", I can't smile and laugh. In fact, that only shows that your nerves are still very sharp and respond quickly to even very weak stimuli; when you feel sluggish, people will say you are deep.

14 stars

No, I don't care. I don't care. Stars in the commodity society is a consumer goods, spent money, listen to the song, watched the film, the stars are better performance, but it is worth the money and yourself, it is not worth worship! Just like you pay fifty yuan for a skirt on the stall, others guess it's eight hundred yuan. Is it worth the money? You adore this dress?

15, the price

Not by any means, but by knowing that everything costs a price. It's no nonsense to people of our age. Otherwise, when you are thirty years old, you will realize how much you have paid for, but do not understand why you pay, but do not understand how much you have gained, and what to get.

16, loneliness

It's a price for freedom.

In fact, sometimes we think we are very lonely. We think we are lonely, that is, fashion is higher than the crowd. Freedom and loneliness are not contradictory unless you have depression.

In fact, no one likes to be alone, but there are always people who make loneliness for themselves

17, frustrated

Including emotional, career, perhaps only today for spending money on something to buy friends, can not but honour his word. Too much care about the feelings of disappointment, not to take advantage of the fate of playing tricks on themselves, that is, to take other people's mistakes to punish themselves.

18, defects

Maybe you're short, maybe you're not good-looking, maybe your voice like Tang Laoya, your advantage is that you are not your surface shallow bright delay, spend less time, less take some bend directly to find your inner strength, digging deep potential directly.

19, misunderstanding

If it is malicious, then interpretation is useless; if it is in good faith, there is no need for explanation. Specifically mentioned "misunderstandings" not because a person has been misunderstood before the age of thirty more, but when people of this age more.

20, rumors

This is an infectious disease. Silence is the best vaccine. Unless you can find the source of the infection, the explanation will become the ideal condition for the spread of the virus.

21, crazy

This is the best mental adjustment for young people. It shows that you are energetic and physically and mentally healthy. You say "Crazy" is the evaluation of some depressed, mentally and physically exhausted in the elderly malicious, they like a bad repair machine, the need to adjust, but only fine-tuning, an overhaul will make them.

22, stability

Thirty years before the care stable life, the only two possibilities, either in the lottery, or is prematurely senile.

23, pressure

How much stress a middle-aged man can bear is testing his toughness; how much stress a young man can bear and what his potential is.

24, go abroad

Maybe it's a chance, maybe a trap. Unless the university entrance exam from the moment you have to go abroad, this goal, attitude should be treated the same as love, striving for success, you.

25 salary

Just to work, the salary is higher, also higher than where. So before the age of thirty, opportunities are far more important than money. Business is far more important than money. It's far more important than money. For most people, the primary goal of doing business before the age of thirty is not to earn money, but to earn the future.

26, deposits

It's not necessarily because we have less money, young people now know that money is alive. There are so many opportunities, so good conditions, you can take money to mortgage, do today's things, spend tomorrow's money; you can also take money to invest, take money to "charge.". Money is only money in the course of its circulation, otherwise it is only a stack of the best quality waste paper in the world.

27 house

Unless you buy a house for appreciation, well, you're married. I have a classmate, home in the field, after graduation from the University, the unit has no dormitory, the house bought a house for him. He had a chance to work in Beijing, but he felt he had bought the house and left the city turn, give up. He works steadily now, but he has achieved nothing. The only achievement was getting married and having children, because he felt he should not let the house remain empty forever, so the house became a home. The house is an allegory of urban life, and this fable should not be associated with us too soon.

28, age

Girls start hiding their age after twenty-five, but in fact they don't need. Now that youth is delayed to forty-five, what is twenty-five?

29, care about

It is a state of mind that cannot be held up or set aside. The opposite of it is not to give up, but to be free and unrestrained, free, and always optimistic.