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#I may only have one brain cell but it is a very determined brain cell

batrachised · 5 months

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Watching Anne of Avonlea (through sheer determination and after a series of events that involved unsuccessfully digging through the website's source code, I managed to rent it), and it strikes me how (in this instance, similarly to the book), Anne repeatedly crushes any romantic advancements on Gilbert's part. In the book, Anne avoids being alone with Gilbert and begs him not to propose to her. It makes me wonder: why did Gilbert think proposing to her would work? Is it because he wanted a sense of finality? Because he did genuinely think he had a chance? He does say this:

“There isn’t anything to forgive. There have been times when I thought you did care. I’ve deceived myself, that’s all. Goodbye, Anne.”

This implies that he did think a yes was possible. Yet I find this difficult to believe, because while we all know Anne does in fact care that way for Gilbert and doesn't know it yet, Anne has also been pretty blunt about how she doesn't think she does. Anne of the Island's first chapters are filled with Anne thinking about how awkward walks with Gilbert are now, or with her crushing any overtures he makes. Exhibit:

Gilbert suddenly laid his hand over the slender white one lying on the rail of the bridge. His hazel eyes deepened into darkness, his still boyish lips opened to say something of the dream and hope that thrilled his soul. But Anne snatched her hand away and turned quickly. The spell of the dusk was broken for her. “I must go home,” she exclaimed, with a rather overdone carelessness. “Marilla had a headache this afternoon, and I’m sure the twins will be in some dreadful mischief by this time. I really shouldn’t have stayed away so long.” She chattered ceaselessly and inconsequently until they reached the Green Gables lane. Poor Gilbert hardly had a chance to get a word in edgewise.

[Gilbert asks] “And after those four years—what?” “Oh, there’s another bend in the road at their end,” answered Anne lightly. “I’ve no idea what may be around it—I don’t want to have. It’s nicer not to know.

“I wonder if I can ever make her care for me,” he thought, with a pang of self-distrust.

“If I had my way I’d shut everything out of your life but happiness and pleasure, Anne,” said Gilbert in the tone that meant “danger ahead.” “Then you would be very unwise,” rejoined Anne hastily. “I’m sure no life can be properly developed and rounded out without some trial and sorrow—though I suppose it is only when we are pretty comfortable that we admit it. Come—the others have got to the pavilion and are beckoning to us.”

Anne was never attended by the crowd of willing victims who hovered around Philippa’s conquering march through her Freshman year; but there was a lanky, brainy Freshie, a jolly, little, round Sophomore, and a tall, learned Junior who all liked to call at Thirty-eight, St. John’s, and talk over ’ologies and ’isms, as well as lighter subjects, with Anne, in the becushioned parlor of that domicile. Gilbert did not love any of them, and he was exceedingly careful to give none of them the advantage over him by any untimely display of his real feelings Anne-ward.

The only set up we get is this:

Gilbert, to be sure, was still faithful, and waded up to Green Gables every possible evening. But Gilbert’s visits were not what they once were. Anne almost dreaded them. It was very disconcerting to look up in the midst of a sudden silence and find Gilbert’s hazel eyes fixed upon her with a quite unmistakable expression in their grave depths; and it was still more disconcerting to find herself blushing hotly and uncomfortably under his gaze, just as if—just as if—well, it was very embarrassing.

My guess is that based on the paragraph above, Gilbert thought he had a chance - that and his line about how "things can't go on like this any longer." It's still odd to me in the context of the larger pattern of behavior though. Not in a bad way, more in a "tumblr, please provide your thoughts because batrachised's brain cell has quit its job without notice" way

#i am slowly absorbing myself in shirbert #time to dig into this #aogg #anne of the island #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #anne x gilbert

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popawritter12 · 9 months

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Yandere!Clark Kent + Yandere!Bruce Wayne x female!reader

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent

𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕒| 𝔸𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕖| 𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕠𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖| 𝕥𝕧 𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖: Dc movie series (?

ℂ𝕒𝕤𝕖: Scenes of jealousy, attempted aggression.

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥:1 of 1

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: I spent several days trying to do something coherent, I didn't like Batman vs Superman nor did I find a coherent way to make a Yandere story of these two. But hey, this is the final result, which is located after the events of the new flash movie (I mean, the new reboot of the DC world)

{AND YES, I PUT A PHOTO OF BATMAN VS SUPERMAN BECAUSE I THINK IT WAS AWESOME}

⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆

Coffee, cooked mate, tea, black tea, green tea, smoothies, croissants, ice cream.

You smell the sweet atmosphere and feel the warmth of the cafeteria atmosphere fill your soul and body with happiness. As if you have changed from a horrendous and heavy environment to one full of happiness and peace and love, you smile, thinking about what to ask for.

For a few days you longed for a break from work, and finally you had it, you could finally have breakfast in complete peace, without worrying about whether you arrived late or late to a place or to do such a thing.

After talking to the clerk about what you were asking for, you sit down to think about your life, and what you could do today. Walk in the park? Watch a movie? Or maybe just lie in bed and sleep like you've never slept in your life.

Or maybe... visit Barry, one of your best friends.

Yeah, that sounded like a great idea, catch up and talk like they did before they got into college.

But... Something went wrong, something interrupted the little rest you had, and you knew that thanks to the people who suddenly went outside.

As if everything were a chaos orchestrated by destiny, as if it were God who had decided to let humans take the reins of their destiny, you see how a kind of fabric is torn in the sky. A hole in the shape of torn cloth reveals two men, peering out of the gloomy chaos that had ensued.

People watched, took photos with their cell phones or recorded videos, or were directly shocked by the bizarre situation in which they lived. The surreal thing about this fact was that a part of you thought that Barry was in danger.

A pang that runs through your stomach as if it were your body telling you something, forces you to start pushing people.

Elbows, shouts, pushes; everything seemed like chaos with the people who began to mobilize.

You walk out of the cafeteria, looking directly into the hole that had opened up.

As strange as it may seem, or as fearful as you did not express, you were able to see two people in the distance that you casually or conveniently knew.

---Bruce? ---Questions with a small voice ---, Clark?

All the noise that people were making because of the shouting, or just because of the amount of people moving slowly fades away, as if your brain was only focused on the two people who were there, above, staring at you, as if they were watching you. searching.

It is then that the hole gets bigger, and an immediate desire to run or hide from what was going to happen ran through your mind and body taking over you

But... everything was in vain, everything had already been determined, everything had already been done, as if destiny had already been written on a stone.

You can see it, the world you've known, the people you've always loved, or even your very existence disappears.

In a blink, you go from being at work, watching the world be destroyed by something you didn't even understand, to waking up from your bed.

You remove the sheets from your body with violence, throwing the sheets on the floor. You look around you, scared; it was your room, but almost completely different.

Instead of posters of your favorite bands, there are posters of people you didn't know. From titles like "The woman in the cabaza" or "The dance of the end of the world" were movie titles that you had seen in your life.

Instead of losing your mind, or starting to panic, you know you can't lose your mind now.

Inhale, hold, exhale, inhale, hold, exhale.

You kept up the routine for a few minutes, until you even managed to keep the peace, even now.

---Remember; everything is fine, everything is fine, ---You inhale again, trying to keep the peace ---, everyone is alive, it was just a nightmare, it was just one more nightmare.

After a few minutes that at this point seemed endlessly insufferable, a sudden call interrupts your attempt to keep all your ducklings in line.

Seeing the cell phone, which was on top of a small book that was on top of a wooden shelf, you take it in your hands.

"Barry <3"

A small hope that everything was a nightmare appears, so you answer.

---Hello? (Name)? --- You hear his voice, like a worried older brother.

---Barry? ---You questions, happy.

You listen for a moment as if Barry did sounds of a happy person, as if he is celebrating that you still remember him.

---It's good that you remind me...! --- He cuts off his own sentence ---, I mean, I'm glad you're okay

---Yes, I'm fine... ---You answer, averting your gaze ---, I just... woke up.

--- Thank goodness --- He whispers, as if he were nervous ---, by the way, can we meet somewhere?

---Yes, s-sounds perfect ---You whisper, trying to hide your nervousness ---, where can we meet?

---I can hear you're nervous, did you have another nightmare? ---He asks.

You blink a few times, remembering that he knew about the nightmares you had for practically your entire life.

---Yeah... It was horrible ---Your voice cracks ---, I can't believe it felt so real!

---Huh? But if all your nightmares feel real... ---He mentions, confused.

---B-But... I could see as if the world was destroyed, something in the sky opened up! ---You explain, nervous ---. Everything was fine, it was my day off but... when I went outside, something in the sky opened up and...

---Oh... ---He whispered, this time more confused ---.., wait, did it open and something or someone peeked out? Like a person or...

---Bruce and Clark! The two of them peered out of the hole that opened ---You express, worsening your condition.

Barry is silent, it was noticeable that his words were stuck in his throat. It is then that, after a few seconds and listening to you sob with fear.

---(Name)... ---Barry called you.

---And I thought it was a dream because everything was being quite strange, and... ---You explained, getting out of bed and looking at the posters in your room ---, I'm in a stranger's room!

---(Name)

---It looks a lot like mine! But it has very... strange tastes, I've never met any of these bands or movies ---You say, investigating the room further.

---(Name) ---He calls you once more.

---What's happening?

---It was not a nightmare.

---What? ---You ask, before listening to someone knock on your door.

---(Name), I need you to go to the park in front of your house, Bruce and I will be there, okay? --- Explains Barry, you could see that he was trying to stay calm.

---O-Okay... ---You whisper, ending the call quickly, looking at the door.

After a few seconds of mustering as much courage as possible, you go to the door and open it. Your fear is suddenly replaced by surprise when you see who was there.

---Clark?! ---Your voice is shot throughout the house, to your surprise, you can see it there; completely calm.

He was carrying a white ceramic cup with flowers, which seemed to have something inside.

---What's up, (Name)? ---Clark asks, confused ---, are you okay?

You look at him for a few seconds, trying not to say something that would probably be very incoherent. You look at the cup that he was carrying in his hands.

---It's nothing... Did you need something? ---Questions, playing with your hands.

---Oh, nothing, nothing ---He repeats, with his cheeks a little reddish ---, I just wanted to bring you a cup of coffee, as I saw that you didn't get up.

You blink a few times, before seeing how he extends the cup towards you.

---Thank you... ---You whisper, before taking the cup in your hands.

--- By the way, --- He mentions, before suddenly changing his tone --- who was that you were talking to?

You can see that because his body was tense and his tone of voice had changed, he sounded different than what you were used to.

--- It was Barry --- You answer, drinking from the cup between your hands ---, he said he needed me to go to the park near here.

--- Oh, --- His voice changes even more for a moment, erasing the smile on his face, but suddenly it's back to normal.

---I'll go now ---You say, happy ---, say hi to Louis for me.

As you walk past your good friend, he suddenly grabs your arm, not forcefully, and in fact hardly exerts any force in his grip.

--- (Name) --- he calls you ---, can I go with you?

---Hey?

Your smile disappears, before scratching the back of your neck with one of your hands.

---Well... Barry says that Bruce will be there, don't you think it would be better if I go alone?

Yes, you were perfectly aware of the certain tension that existed in their relationship, therefore, it was best to avoid conflicts.

---All the more reason I must go... ---he whispered, tightening his grip on your arm a little.

---That?

---No, no, nothing... ---He lets go of your arm, nervous ---, I just want to make sure you're safe.

---But... I'll be with Barry and Bruce... ---You answer, confused ---Besides...

--- (Name) --- he calls you again, taking you back, now grabbing your arm, --- May I go with you?

You can see that his body acted unconsciously, as if he really needed to accompany you before anything else in the whole world.

"Well...okay." You relent, letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips.

You can see how his attitude and face change, his grip is quickly removed, and a smile appears on his lips.

---Okay --- he whispers.

＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／

You can feel how the tension in the air increases with each second of silence that was between the four of you.

---Uh, well... ---Barry whispers, playing with his hands, before walking next to you ---...It's good that we're together now!

---Yes, thank goodness... ---You whisper, before looking at your best friend ---.., Barry, could you tell me about the nightmare?

Bruce looked at you, you could see a soft smile tugging at his lips, before speaking.

---You didn't tell him anything, Barry? ---Bruce asks, intrigued.

---Eh, no, she doesn't know yet ---The young man answers, before looking at you.

---Know what, exactly? ---Asks Clark, again being serious.

---It's complicated.. ---You whisper, before taking a breath ----.., apparently I had a nightmare, as is recurring, but they're telling me it wasn't!

One of your hands goes to your lips, your nails settling between your teeth, until Barry takes your hand.

---Hey, hey, hey ---He's calling you ---, I know this is all complicated, but for now we're not in danger, so let's sit down and...

You can not just one, but two hands grab Barry's wrist, abruptly pulling his hand away from yours.

---Keep your distance, Barry/kid ---Both Clark and Bruce say at the same time.

The surrealism of the scene, along with the sudden reaction of both of you, surprised both Barry and you.

Barry quickly pushes them away, his tone changing suddenly.

---What's wrong with them? ---Barry asks, confused and frowning.

Neither of us could say anything, because you directly speak louder than usual

---What's wrong with all of you? ---You ask, with anger in your tone---. We can't fight now, especially not over something as small as him grabbing my hand! --- You approach Barry, taking his shoulder ---, don't fight, do you really want to make a scene having, I don't know...? More than 28 years?

After the nightmare that seemed to be real, the display of obvious jealousy on Clark's part, and an obvious attempt at another jealousy scene, you were on the brink of losing your mind.

Clark and Bruce don't act like they used to, where did your kind reporter who was actually one of the strongest superheroes on the face of the earth go? Or your good friend who showed you appreciation very rarely? By whom were they replaced?

You can see that both men stare at you, while Barry tried to calm the situation by talking, positioning himself in front of you. But that only caused the look of both of them... Yanderes to intensify, they will begin to lose patience, as if they were on the verge of taking Barry and... damaging him a little, with their own hands.

You know what I mean, don't you, (Name)?

＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／

I don't give a shit what the world thinks; The Bruce that appears in the last Flash movie is great, or at least I like how the actor looks.

#obsessive love #yandere #yandere male #yandere dc #yandere bruce wayne #two yanderes #dc #clark kent #yandere superman #yandere batman #yandere superhero #yandere x you #yandere one shot

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kittyball23 · 8 months

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Reaction (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: How did each brother feel about Floyd's capture?

A/N: Requested by troll_fan_broppy on Wattpad 🙂

__________________________________________

As soon as he’d shut Rhonda’s side door and was settled at the driver’s seat within her interior, John Dory leaned his head against the steering wheel. He felt a need to go back and catch one last glimpse of his younger brother before he set off on his departure. It just didn’t feel right, leaving Floyd behind so that those weirdos - Velvet and Veneer - could do as they pleased with him, depleting him of his talent and quite possibly imposing harm!

But then JD’s rational side kicked in. There had been no other choice. Nothing could get done to benefit Floyd if he’d just stayed there in the vanity room, continuing to try and fail at breaking the diamond. Leaving him and retrieving their remaining brothers was the only way to get at least one step closer to having Floyd be free once again.

John Dory sighed, sneaking a glance at the old BroZone cutouts that he’d held onto for some time, and catching sight of himself, Floyd, and the rest of their bros all together and happy. And that was when his determination shoved its way to the forefront of his emotions. “All right, girly,” he called to his caterbus, slipping his goggles over his eyes and firmly gripping the steering wheel. “Let’s get a move on!”

Rhonda gave a little whinny, rearing up on her hind legs for a brief moment and then obeying JD by galloping off and away from Floyd’s place of capture. John Dory would get the rest of his brothers, and he knew exactly where it was that he would commence his search for a certain blue-haired, baby-faced Troll…

__________________________________________

“I am NOT go-ing.”

Branch rolled his eyes. Here he was, thinking that he had been considered the baby of the band, when now it seemed that the roles were very much reversed. He spoke his words slowly, emphasizing each syllable in hopes that the airhead known to the world as John Dory - and known to him as his brother - would finally get it through his big noggin that he was not in no WAY going to be a part of this journey.

“But Branch, you gotta!” John Dory whined, not at all sounding like the grown adult that he was supposed to be, and sounding more like a toddler who was being fussy.

“N - O,” Branch said, hoping that maybe spelling it out would make some sort of brain cells spark in his brother’s head.

“Branch,” John Dory stated firmly, “Our brother is being held captive in a diamond prison.”

Branch had had enough. “How many times do I have to - !”

But then he paused mid sentence.

“Wait… what?”

This was different. All this time, John Dory had only continued to willfully insist that Branch come with him in order to get BroZone reunited for what seemed to be the purpose of just making new music (under his assumption that John Dory likely failed to launch a successful solo career). Not once had anything else been said. Branch’s first instinct was to be suspicious. How did he know John Dory wasn’t just changing tactic and saying things so that Branch can be convinced to come? But Poppy beat him to the punch as far as asking the first question.

Next to him, the Pop Queen gasped, a hand flying to her mouth, and her worried gaze was fixed on JD. “Oh no!” she cried. “Which one?”

“It’s Floyd,” John Dory responded instantly, without the typical falter that may have been indicative that it was untruthful. With that, he began to really explain. “See, Floyd and I kinda ran into each other in this big, flashy city a ways from here. We started to sing together, y’know, seeing if we could get our flow back. I think we were doing ‘Perfect,’ remember that song, Branch?”

“Don’t remind me,” the blue Troll grumbled, because no, he didn’t need to recollect the one song that ruined BroZone.

“Right, anyway,” John Dory continued, gesturing his arms out wildly telling the next part, “All of a sudden these two weirdos jump out at us just like that! POW!” He clapped his hands together, making Poppy jump back in surprise, and making Branch roll his eyes. Must his brother always try and be big and dramatic?

“I was able to escape, but Floyd…” John Dory clicked his tongue. “Not so lucky, I’m afraid.”

Branch narrowed his eyes. “Okay,” he said, “so he’s captured. Why didn’t you try and get him out?”

“Dude, you don’t think I did?” John Dory asked like it was obvious. “It’s a diamond, Branch! And there’s only one way we’re gonna get him out...” He put his hands out in front of him and waved them through the air like he was trying to make sparkles. “The perfect Family Harmony!”

If Branch had found amusement in the situation, he would have laughed. But he didn’t. He was beyond irritated at this point. “Are you out of your mind?” he huffed. “The Family Harmony… are you hearing yourself?!”

“What’s the Family Harmony?” Poppy asked innocently, to either of the two who would answer.

John Dory piped up first with a grin. “Oh! It’s this totally bro-dacious thing - “

“ - that we will never be able to do again!” Branch cut in. “So don’t even mention it.”

“Branch you don’t understand,” John Dory said, “it’s the only way to save him. If not, who knows what’s gonna happen!”

Poppy, concerned and confused, cocked her head at him, asking the question that Branch was admittedly being too stubborn to ask. “Uhh… what do you mean by that?”

John Dory grimaced, seeming to be remembering something, before he responded. “Something weird’s happening with Floyd. The dude and dudette that captured him - they’re, like, literally stealing his talent!”

“What?” Poppy couldn’t believe her ears, her exclamation coming out as more of a gasp. How on earth… “Why? How?” She was starting to feel anxious now. Someone from her favorite boyband was in great danger! And, as it turned out, she wasn't the only one feeling unnerved. Branch's attention, previously dismissive, had turned fully to his brother.

John Dory shrugged. "Beats me! I mean, that's what it looked like when they started sniffing in on Floyd and all this color and stuff was being sucked outta him. And let me tell you, he didn't look so hot afterwards..." He shook his head, perturbed. "But those talentless losers are gonna pay! Am I right, Branch? Wait... Branch?" John Dory looked over to where the blue Troll had been, and was unable to locate him. Poppy too was startled to find that her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. Where had he gone?

Unbeknownst to them, Branch had slipped away, and was sitting off in a quiet area where he could think and properly gather his thoughts. He ran the facts over in his head. John Dory was back. John Dory claimed to have met up with Floyd. John Dory claimed that Floyd was captured and being kept as some sort of song-slave for a couple of strange creatures.

He sighed in exasperation. What the heck was he supposed to think?

Just then, Branch heard some tsking coming from next to him, and he looked down to find that Tiny Diamond was sitting at his side with a pensive look on his face.

“Hooo, boy. Grown up stuff, am I right?”

Branch snorted. How could Tiny Diamond go on acting as though he knew it all, when he was only a year or so old?

“Branch, lemme tell ya,” the small Trolling continued, “you sure got a lotta drama goin’ on. At least if that bro of yours is anything to go by!”

“You were listening?” Branch asked, even though it was pretty obvious that that was indeed the case.

“Mmm-hmm,” Tiny said with a nod. Then he looked up at Branch with a gleam in his eye. “So, you are going, right? I mean, heck, you can’t miss an adventure like this - and neither can I!”

You just wanna see the REST of the drama, Branch wanted to point out to him, but instead, he asked, “What makes you think Guy Diamond would even want you to come along?”

Tiny chuckled. “Branch, my daddy knows that I’m a man, alright? If I wanna come, I can come. Get it?”

Branch rolled his eyes. “What does it matter. I’m not gonna go,” he said, even though he didn’t sound so sure of it when he said it.

Tiny huffed. “Hmph. Aunt Poppy’s gonna want you to,” he retorted.

“He’s right.”

Both Troll and Trolling turned at the sound of the Pop Queen’s voice breaking into their bubble.

“Tiny, um, do you think I could have a minute with Branch?”

Tiny nodded. “Absolutely, Aunt Poppy.” He scooted over, making room for her.

“Oh! Actually, I meant, uh… alone,” she clarified sheepishly.

“Ohhh… well all right,” Tiny said with a shrug, slinking off but still keeping his ear perked so he could listen in.

Poppy approached Branch with a cautious smile. “Heeyy…”

He gave her a look.

Poppy sighed.

“Branch… Satin would do anything for Chenille. Cooper would do anything for Prince D. And I know if I had a sister, I'd do anything for her."

"I know you would, Poppy," Branch mumbled. "And so would they. But we aren't like that," he said, referring to John Dory and his other brothers.

Poppy paused, considering what she was going to say next, and then spoke when she was certain, "Hey... I remember a Troll once told me that life wasn't all cupcakes and rainbows. And he was right." She sat by him, her hand reaching for his and holding it lightly. "And I want that same Troll to know that even though life isn't all cupcakes and rainbows, it doesn't mean that life is all doom and gloom, either. That there's good times and bad times, good folks and bad folks... and folks who just make mistakes. Mistakes that can be fixed."

Branch's scowl softened into something more contemplative. "...I guess," he admitted after a while, mostly remembering Floyd's saddened face right before he'd left him as a baby. Branch didn't understand back then, but as an adult he could see that Floyd was troubled in his decision to leave their home, and most likely his other brothers - while they hadn't shown it that night - did as well. And now, his brother was in trouble. Was a grudge really going to be something that was going to prevent him from possibly saving his life?

Poppy patted his hand. "I'm not going to tell you what to do," she said. "But just... try thinking about it, okay?" She considered saying more, but decided against it, not wanting to bog the blue Troll down with so much pressure.

Turned out, she didn't need to say more... or wait very long for his answer.

"I'll go."

Poppy was taken aback by the quick reply, and Branch, realizing how blunt his response was, vouched to explain.

"I can't promise you anything, but I'll try and help." He shrugged.

The Pop Queen smiled at him. "You don't have to promise me anything," she said. "It's for your own sake, not mine."

Classic Poppy, he thought, touched by how genuinely caring she was.

Tiny Diamond, who determined that it was safe enough to pop back out, jumped up in the air happily.

"Awright! Branch, Poppy, Tiny, and the rando going off on a musical adventure! Wooohooo! Yeah!"

And it was all that Branch and Poppy heard on the trek back to JD, unable to dissuade the little Trolling from venturing along with them, and who chattered excitedly about everything he hoped would happen.

__________________________________________

Logic seemed to be thrown out the window, and Spruce could do little more than shake his head at his brothers. They may not have responsibilities to take care of, but he sure did. And he was going to put things into perspective for them.

“Guys, I can’t just go. What about my wife, huh? And my kids? I’ve got an egg that’s about to hatch literally any day now!”

“Awright, congrats, bro!” John Dory exclaimed, raising a hand in the air for a high five and grinning broadly at Spruce. But only when Spruce did not follow through with the high five and instead gave JD a look did the teal Troll realize that he had completely missed the point.

“Besides,” Spruce continued, “I’ve got my own life, and it’s right here. With nobody else besides me and my family.”

“Yeah, and in the meantime, your other family is trapped inside a diamond prison getting his talent sucked out!”

Spruce got very confused at this. “Huh?” He looked over at Branch, who gave a nod of agreement to the bizarre statement that John Dory had made.

“Floyd’s stuck in some kind of crystal and is being held hostage by, uh… who again?” Branch asked JD.

“Some tall, weird, spaghetti-limbed bozos who can’t sing a lick!” John Dory replied. “So they’re using that crystal to take his talent away and make it theirs!”

What in the world? That sounded like some kind of made-up story that one of his kids would tell him just to make him laugh. Only, he wasn’t laughing now. John Dory and Branch were not trying to tell him this story for amusement purposes, they were trying to be serious.

So he went into the conversation with the same mentality he used for one of his kids’ stories - politely listening, but not really taking everything seriously as they explained that Floyd was the one being held captive, and was depending on the perfect Family Harmony to break him free.

“So that’s why you want me to come, eh?” Spruce asked after a long pause. It came out as more of a statement than a question.

“Yessiree!” John Dory said. “What else are big brothers for if they aren’t lookin’ out for the younger ones?”

Spruce glanced at Branch to see what his reaction to the statement was. And the look on his face did little to support JD's argument. But regardless, Spruce found himself unable to stay mad. That was the thing he'd come to learn about himself. He'd been the heartthrob once (and still was, if he did say so himself), but he'd also been the most chill of the bunch. His bros, no matter how much on his nerves they got him, were always gonna be his crew. He'd been mad for the longest time, but he'd be lying to himself if he said that some of that grudge he'd developed on the night the band broke up hadn't dwindled away.

"I'm in," he agreed, his response met with a hearty cheer from John Dory and a sigh of relief from Branch. "The quicker we rescue Floyd and make sure he's safe, the quicker I can get back to my girl and my saplings, 'aight?"

"No problemo, boss," JD assured, giving Spruce the space he needed to bid his family a temporary goodbye.

After all, a good father sets an example to his children, and showing them that he was willing to go out of his way for his brothers out of love was a very important life lesson to share.

__________________________________________

There was a reason he had been called 'The Fun One.' It wasn't just a character Clay was trying to play. It was his personality. He knew how to make the jokes, and how to have folks laugh at them.

John Dory, Spruce, and Branch, on the other hand, never knew how to match his level of comedy. So this whole little 'joke' that they were trying to convince him of was not doing much except annoy him.

“Y’all are playing,” he muttered.

And just like he thought, Spruce, John Dory, and Branch took the opposing point, with insistence that this was necessary, and that John Dory himself had witnessed the strange and hazardous occurrence of Floyd’s talent being sucked out. But it was when the Family Harmony was mentioned that he had reached his limit of patience for this nonsense.

"The Family Harmony? Okay, now I know you're playing for sure! We haven't sung like that in a long time. How are we going to do that again?" He didn't wait for them to respond. He put a hand up and spoke firmly. "The answer is no."

And it would have stayed that way, had Viva not broadened his view on the matter.

“Do you really wanna risk that you might never see your brother again?"

That answer also happened to be no.

Clay suddenly felt guilty for the times when they’d just been kids and he’d played ‘jail’ with Floyd as a joke. Thinking of him locked behind bars - or trapped inside of whatever it was that he was locked in - for real wasn’t so funny. Floyd had probably cried himself a river with how scared he must be.

Or not, Clay thought. Floyd could very well have adopted a new personality that came with the passing of time, like he himself had outgrown the whole funny-guy persona for a more serious one. It didn’t matter in the end though. Clay knew that if his serious-self was captured and unable to escape, he would be sweating bullets.

Which is why he found himself giving in.

“Okay, I’m gonna give it a shot, so – “

"YAAAAAAYYY!!!"

Viva’s scream had interrupted him, and through the big hug she’d given him afterward, and the satisfied look that his three brothers had on their faces, Clay knew that he’d made the right choice.

__________________________________________

If Floyd had been in the right mindset, he probably would have been wondering what John Dory's progress was so far. Which brothers he was able to find and gather for his rescue mission, and how much more land he had left to cover to get back to Mount Rageous.

But Floyd was not in the right mindset, and had not been since the start of his imprisonment. The little that he could muster to think of was used only for thinking about what was happening to him, and how he would end up once his captors – Velvet and Veneer – were finished using him for their malicious deeds.

His unfocused gaze only saw the shining gleam of the diamond’s firm walls, and caught the reflection of his quickly whitening hair. Hours ago, it’d been only a few strands amid his magenta mane that had turned the bleached color, hardly noticeable. Now, it was a good chunk of hair that was discolored, and seeming to be directly correlated to the great lack of energy that he was undergoing.

Whatever was the deal, Floyd only hoped that John Dory, Spruce, Clay, and Branch didn’t delay too much. He didn’t know if it was too much to ask – since they hadn’t seen each other for years and had ended things on bad terms – or maybe it was just enough to ask for. All he knew was that the comfort of being with his brothers again didn’t sound so terrible when compared to the alternative.

An alternative that was slowly, but surely, getting him closer to meeting an imminent and unkind end.

__________________________________________

A/N: I included a headcanon of mine that Spruce calls his kiddos saplings sometimes since his name is a type of tree, and saplings are young trees 😘

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #branch trolls #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #brozone #poppy trolls #tiny diamond #viva trolls #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes

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blackjackkent · 4 months

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OK, beginning what I sincerely hope is the last bit of exploration before we can finally go into Baldur's Gate proper: *trumpet fanfare* the basement of that one blacksmith we ran into.

I legitimately don't know if there's anything important down here but I'm being thorough damn it. My liveblogging integrity is important to me.

There's a waterfall, which automatically makes it more interesting than my basement.

There are several deep gnomes milling around in a room up ahead, one of whom speaks up as Hector and Co approach:

"The boss is expecting you - hasn't forgotten what you did for him at Moonrise."

Yo, what?? This is Wulbren's hideout?

The room is a workshop area, full of blacksmithing tools and scattered pieces of scrap metal. Several of the gnomes say vague things about Steel Watch parts when spoken to, leading me to believe Wulbren may be trying to reverse-engineer the automatons currently protecting the city.

Nickels, one of Wulbren's buddies from Moonrise, is here and not enjoying himself:

"It's stopped - but it'll happen again. It keeps happening! The shivering-shaking-quaking! Don't you feel it?"

"Yes!" Hector agrees, eager for information. "It keeps happening - what is it?"

But Nickels has no info to offer. "There's something underneath the city - inside the rock! But when I ask the stone why it shakes, it only screams." His face twists and his voice turns to a pained whimper. "I want to go home..."

Poor guy. :( Hector didn't actually have context the way we did for what was causing the quakes, so I think this might be the first moment where he puts two and two together and connects this to the Wall Meat from Moonrise and knows for certain that the Absolute is what is causing the quakes. Very bad news.

On a lighter note, the lady we saved from being poisoned in the Underdark is here! Nice to see she got reunited with her friends. All she says, though, is that we'll catch up later and that we should go see Wulbren.

So let's go do that!

Hector's opinion on Wulbren at this point is decidedly middling - he seemed OK in Moonrise, then was a dick at Last Light, and then tried to smooth things over again later on because he realized Hector could be useful to him. So Hector is treading carefully here.

"Good to see you. Wasn't sure you'd make it to the city. Regretting it yet?"

Wulbren always speaks in a very clipped-off tone, matter-of-fact, every syllable flat with determination. But there's a note of anger under it now, and frustration. "I spent a lot of time thinking of worst-case scenarios while I was locked in that cell you plucked me out of at Moonrise," he goes on. "I didn't imagine anything as bad as this. The Gondians have handed Enver Gortash the means to bring about the end of liberty in Baldur's Gate. And the citizens have rolled out the red carpet for their new tyrant!"

His voice lifts angrily. "Resistance fighters are few and far between - my Ironhands, what's left of the Harpers, and you." He raises an eyebrow questioningly at Hector. "I hope."

Hector debates trying to explain all the elements of the situation that Wulbren has no idea of - the Absolute, the Elder Brain, the trio of Chosen (now down to two)... but then thinks better of it. Perhaps it's better if Wulbren thinks this is only a fight for the fate of the city, and not for the minds of its inhabitants. "Gortash is a dead man," he says instead, matching his matter-of-fact tone to the gnome's. "I have reasons of my own for taking him down."

Wulbren's jaw sets and he nods, satisfied. "As long as our objective is the same," he says harshly, "the reason doesn't matter to me. We have a common enemy." He stabs out a finger in Hector's direction. "But neither of us gets what we want until we deal with our biggest obstacle."

It's like watching the fuse run down on a powder keg. As if even thinking of the struggle ahead incenses him, Wulbren suddenly explodes with anger, his words coming faster now, almost tripping over each other. "The Steel Watch! They're a threat to you, me, and every man woman and child in the city. They act all civilized - servants of the people - but they only serve one man. When he becomes Grand Duke, it'll only get worse. Laws will change, freedoms will vanish, and soon you'll be accursed and sentenced before you've even committed a crime!"

Hector listens impassively as the other man rages. He has not yet encountered one of these Steel Watch automatons, but everything Wulbren is saying reflects his own worries based on what he's heard so far. Extremely powerful mechanical weapons under the control of an incredibly dangerous man who is poised to get more powerful than ever and is carrying a juggernaut of destruction behind him.

"And the fucking Gondians are to blame for all of it!" Wulbren finishes with a snarl.

Hector blinks. Well, that part of Wulbren's tirade is a little out of left field. He knows Wulbren's antagonism towards this other clan of gnomes - that he considers them responsible for the Ironhand's fall from grace - but thus far he has heard nothing to indicate a connection to Gortash beyond the fact that Wulbren hates both of them.

"Why put the blame on the Gondians?" he asks curiously.

"They invented the Steel Watchers," Wulbren hisses. "And they're building an army of them. They've always been happy to provide their technology to despots in exchange for a stipend and the freedom to work in peace. They would have licked Sarevok's boots, given the chance, and now they'll kiss Gortash's ring while the city screams."

Weren't you the one who said *your* ancestors worked with Sarevok? Hector thinks dryly, though he doesn't speak this thought aloud.

Wulbren, unheeding of any potential hypocrisy he might be indulging in, continues, "I had a plan to put a stop to them. But the way things are now, if we stick our heads above ground, the Watchers are on us like flies on shit."

This is all very useful intelligence, regardless of Hector's personal feelings on Wulbren. And no matter how... intense... the gnome is about his own vendettas, he's right about one thing - he and Hector have a common enemy. And Hector needs allies.

"Maybe I can help," he says carefully.

"I'm sure you can," Wulbren says at once. "You just need a little assistance, and I can provide it. The Gondians are ingenious. But we're more than equal to them. There's nothing they can build that the Ironhands can't tear down." He rubs his hands together eagerly. "I've built something unique just for that purpose. A runepowder bomb - first of its kind. Fifty wizards high on the Weave couldn't summon this kind of firepower."

"Get the bomb inside the Gondian facility and... boom. Problem solved."

A long silence. Hector shifts uncomfortably. He does not like what Wulbren is describing at all. First of all - he has immediate skepticism of any philosophy that takes more pride in destroying than creating. But more to the point, Wulbren is talking about tasking him with setting off a bomb of unprecedented power in a major manufacturing facility in the middle of a city center. And he wants all the gnomes inside that facility to die.

"Maybe the Gondians are victims, not oppressors," he points out, deliberately placid against Wulbren's anger. He does not consider Wulbren's outlook at all unbiased here, and he considers Gortash fully capable of using unwilling labor in his plots.

"The Gondians picked their side the minute they took orders from Gortash," Wulbren says coldly. "If they had any courage, they'd have refused him and died like heroes, spitting in his face. Now they'll die like the dogs they are."

Hector feels a strange prickling up the back of his spine as he is reminded, abruptly, of the uncompromising rage of He Who Was, back in the shadowlands. He remembers the raised spirit of Madeline, whose crime was rooted in fear of the overwhelming power steamrolling through her life - and who Hector allowed the possibility of forgiveness, out there in the darkness.

Wulbren is no creature of the Shadowfell, but this is the same question, Hector is sure of it. Some of those people could be lost in a terrible situation not of their own making. And he will not kill them so brutally without knowing more of the situation than Wulbren's limited perspective. "I'll make contact with the Gondians," he says firmly. "Maybe they'll see reason."

Wulbren scowls. "Fine. You want to try flapping your gums in the belly of the beast, be my guest. But their idea of diplomacy is a steel fist shoved where the sun don't shine. So take the bomb - just in case I'm right and you're wrong."

Hector nods. "Fine," he says. "I'll take it - but I'll only use it as a last resort." He fully intends not to use it - but Wulbren will be pacified, for now at least, by his taking it.

"As long as you see sense, I don't care when you see it," Wulbren says coolly, handing the device over. "The foundry is in the Lower City, down by the docks. Beautiful building, belching smoke into the sky day and night. Getting inside won't be easy, but when you do, place the bomb at the heart of the facility and get yourself back to street level." His lip curls with a sort of violent glee. "The streets will be clear of Watchers in no time!"

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #i think i'm coming to the conclusion that i don't like wulbren very much :P #and so is hector

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microdosingwithjoe · 1 year

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CBG, CBD, CBC, CBN, and THCV

The Healing Cannabinoids

If you read my piece on the entourage effect, you know that I believe that THC is the ringmaster, but all the components of cannabis determine the “personality” of any given strain. Studies have proven the Entourage Effect with cannabinoids and terpenes. But these five cannabinoids are the major components that combine with THC to most affect your high as far as we know, as well your health and wellbeing.

Some cannabinoids, especially CBN and CBG, can bind directly to both the endocannabinoid system’s (ECS) CB1 and CB2 receptors, meaning they affect everything the ECS controls. These elements are all-important to the way any given cannabis strain or concoction affects you.

There are over 100 cannabinoids. We have no idea what most of them do, but the ones I selected are considered the most important.

CBG (cannabigerol) is the “Mother Cannabinoid” —THC, CBD, CBC, and CBN (and all other cannabinoids) began as CBG.

CBG’s anti-stress, anti-anxiety, and antidepressant effects are fantastic, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. There are numerous studies about CBG that indicate that it is as good as or better than CBD for pain, anxiety, inflammation, sleep disorders, etc. —all CBD’s effects but even better. It also provides better relief for sufferers of intestinal disorders, like IBS, GERD, and Crohn’s disease. We will have to wait and see everything CBG does, because the THC and CBD study focus has been taking the lion’s share of interest before now, but CBG is the rising superstar.

CBD (cannabidiol) is a cure-all kinda medicine that continues to show positive effects in more and more conditions all the time. I have a personal affinity for CBD + THC therapy, as it substantially healed two discs in my neck, and turned my degenerative disc disorder around. I still can have bouts of pain, but compared with living with hearing and feeling bone-on-bone grinding all day, every day? I’m in heaven. Another attribute of CBD, is that it’s a THC antagonist. That means it can inhibit and regulate the uptake of THC, and that has two great purposes. If you’re a beginner stoner. I always recommend everyone get a CBD vape whether you’re a beginner or an expert stoner. If you get too high, feel THC-induced anxiety, or panic, just a few puffs of CBD, and you’ll be relieved. But because CBD has all these great benefits of reducing tension, anxiety, and depression, one puff is just a great additive to any high. Antagonistic CBD also stretches THC’s effective period from 4 hours, to 6-8 hours during sleep.

CBC (cannabichromene) may be up to 10 times more potent than CBD for treating stress and anxiety and also has significant anti-inflammatory, pain-reducing, antiviral, anti-tumor, and bone-growth-stimulating properties. But the potential CBC has that excites me most, is that could be immensely useful in promoting the growth of new brain cells.

As an old fart with diminishing mental acuity, that’s obviously interesting to me.

CBN (cannabinol) is the first known cannabinoid, but one of the least-studied of these five, and is the only one that isn't derived directly from CBG, but it's what THC turns into when oxidized. Unlike CBG, CBD, and CBC, it’s mildly intoxicating. Like all these cannabinoids, it relieves pain and inflammation.

The best-known effect of CBN, is that it makes you sleepy. Anyone who’s ever smoked an old joint they found in a drawer might remember that it didn’t get them very high, but it made them ready for nappy time; that’s because much of the THC has degraded into CBN.

What excites me most about CBN, is that behaves like THC in many ways, and it has been found to bind with CB2 receptors. This ability may lead to new treatments for neuropathy (no treatment currently exists, and I suffer from neuropathic pain caused by sciatica), as CB2 receptors appear in inflamed areas in the body.

CBN therapies will be able to treat virtually any inflamed site, so it has the potential to address other areas that are difficult to treat, such as gastrointestinal system disorders like GERD, Chrons Disease, and diverticulitis.

CBN could be a true wonder drug.

THCV (tetrahydrocannabivarin) is another under-studied cannabinoid that’s attracting attention, for good reason.

THCV is a very effective appetite suppressant. It’s also the opposite of CBN, making people quite energetic. Being a bit tubby, I’m really excited by it. I’ve had a rare strain that contained THCV, and can attest to these properties.

But more excitement is to come from THCV, as it has shown to treat a lot of other diverse conditions, including Parkinson’s, psychosis, bacterial inflammation, acne, fatty liver disease, pain, and epilepsy.

I can’t wait to see what other benefits THCV has! Durban Poison is a common strain that contains high levels of THCV, but I’ve never had as good an effect from DP as I did the first (forgotten-named) high-THCV strain I tried.

Entourage Effect- all these cannabinoids work together in ways that increase their effectiveness when combined with THC, and can’t be recommended enough for ailments and moods your ECS controls. There aren’t any drawbacks, except you probably won’t want to ingest CBN until bedtime.

Any and all of these cannabinoids can be ingested individually a half hour before imbibing your favorite weed. THC don’t care where or how you get these into your system, but as always, these other cannabinoids work best with THC. There are vape pens with 50/50 CBD & CBG, but none that incorporate CBC or CBN that I’ve found, yet, but they gotta be out there.

I’m looking for a good supplier of isolates of these cannabinoids; pure, plant-derived organic powders. My intent is to mix them with honey and select terpenes to put into beverages. I’m going to make a daytime version with THCV, a nighttime version that includes CBN, and a neutral one with neither. When I find that supplier I’ll paste a link here, and I'll also let you know if my hypothesis that taking these cannabinoids orally, followed by consumption of THC products a short time later works effectively.

Remember: cannabinoids every day help keep the doctor away!

#medical cannabis #microdosing #howtogethigh #cannabis #recreational cannabis #cannacommunity

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wackybuddiemewbs · 1 year

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More WIPpeting because why not? It's Wednesday, after all!

Title has it. It's WIP Wednesday again, and this fic that's not a fic is eating away all of my remaining brain cells. We are at 470k something words and -470% percent of my sanity. Assuming I ever had it. Anyway. Here's to more shenanigan! You can find the moodboard here, and the last two installments for that arc are here and here.

The Worm in the Man III

“So the guy seriously tore down a door?” Chimney gapes.

They all gathered in Chimney’s office to go over the latest findings. And after Buck recounted some of what they found at the gym, Hen is left wondering just what kinds of odd people end up in their city. And how many of them end up in freak accidents that may land them here for identification.

“One swing, and it was out of its hinges,” Buck confirms.

“The wonders of the capacity of the human body,” Chim hums, his eyes drifting off as he surely paints a very pretty picture of that inside his head. And Hen can only hope that he won’t listen to the impulse to draw a comic about that, no matter how beautifully drawn it may be.

It’s rude, and we have to set an example, right?

“More like what steroids can make you do,” Hen huffs, making her disdain no secret. That is no wonder, it’s a damn shame. And it shouldn’t be happening anymore, but God knows it does.

“It was kind of impressive, I’ll have to admit,” Buck ponders, shrugging his shoulders.

“And you didn’t film it for us to enjoy,” Chimney pouts.

Buck holds up his hands. “Sorry, next time he does it, I sure will.”

“That’d be greatly appreciated.”

“So, did you have any luck on the flesh yet?” Buck asks, looking at Hen.

“The bones are cleaned and ready for you to reassemble,” she answers. “The tests confirm what you pointed out after testing the tapeworms: That guy took a mad mix of anabolic steroids. And just so we’re clear on the range: That cocktail he’s been taking would’ve killed medium-sized mammals on the spot.”

How that man managed to stay alive under that regimen is something that Hen can’t determine from the tissue. So she can only assume one thing: It was his sheer will to keep going.

“You’re saying he was shredded.” Chimney flexes his arm muscles for emphasis, which makes Hen’s eyes go for another round the clock motion. She loves Chimney, there is no denying that, but sometimes he tempts her in wanting to tear down a door, too.

“I’m saying he lived a very unhealthy life, just to look like he was healthy,” Hen lets him know. “Or shredded.”

She has seen plenty of those people. Old school friends, girls who glowered at anything that might have contained any kind of fat or carb that couldn’t be accounted for. Hen also saw her fair share of classmates who were so busy working out that they didn’t even realize that this was hardly normal anymore. And it infuriates her to know that there is a whole industry out there that profits off of making people feel miserable and at war with their own bodies. Being healthy suddenly evolved into a status symbol – and, towards that end, into something to make unhealthy or sick people feel bad about for lacking.

“Yeah no, that’s not healthy at all,” Buck confirms. “Essentially, he was underweight.”

“But he still weighed 220 pounds, which is more or less average, right?” Eddie questions.

“Yes, but at one percent body fat and very little hydration levels. His body didn’t get the time to properly regenerate from all those massive changes. Normal is to lose one to two pounds per week if you seek to lose weight and do a moderate to high workout. Jimmy doubled that, at least. The guy hardly ate, and what he ate doesn’t really count as a healthy diet. He was severely malnutritioned and dehydrated by the time he died,” Hen sighs, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “And all of that to fit a certain body image.”

All of that to fit in, to be seen, and not to be regarded as some headless, lazy lump everyone has every right to stomp on for the sole sake of being a certain way. Tell you what, Hen looked inside a great many people throughout her career.

And in the end, safe for some genetic abnormalities, we all look the same underneath the skin. Imagine that!

“And to get his picture hung up on the wall of fame, let’s not forget,” Chim huffs.

“How could we possibly forget about that?” Buck joins in, gesturing with his hands.

“Well, at least we now have a name. James ‘Jimmy’ Granger was a software engineer. He worked for a small company, though he mostly worked from home. Most of his colleagues don’t even know that guy’s face,” Eddie lets them know, reading off of the report he got sent. “Which may also explain why he wasn’t reported missing very fast.”

“The wonders of working remote,” Chimney points out. “That guy probably just never switched on the camera during his transition. Or even before that.”

“The neighbors said that he didn’t go out much,” Eddie continues. “Things shifted about five to six months ago.”

“So when he started frequenting the gym,” Hen concludes.

“Yup,” Eddie confirms. “He never brought someone back with him, that the neighbors know of, at least. They describe him as very kind and helpful. Jimmy set up most of the software and hardware for the people living in the house, as they are mostly elderly.”

“So who’d murder a sweet software engineer like that?” Hen asks, which, she knows, is always the question they have to ask around here.

But it never ceases to make her mad. There are so many good and kind people who are ripped out of their lives. For nothing, really. To inherit that house, to get that money, to settle this quarrel, or pay off that debt. While she has seen enough of that to know this to be fact, it baffles her just how little it takes for some people to take another human being’s life. Though perhaps it’s better not to know, past a certain point.

“Well, maybe someone at the gym was pretty pissed off that he got the prize instead of them,” Eddie ponders.

Hen gapes at him. “There’s seriously a prize for that?”

She knows she shouldn’t be surprised, but Hen still finds herself greatly irritated already.

“Annually.” Buck nods. “They get 10,000 dollars and get to be poster boys and girls for the gym’s very own protein powder.”

“People like that piss me off,” Hen grunts, leaning back in her seat. “They make people like Jimmy feel inadequate, only to get them to buy their products, book the courses, and completely overexert themselves. To the point that Jimmy here must have been in constant pain. I found traces of pain medicine added to the mix.”

That young, sweet software engineer was suffering, he was aching, and he still pushed on. He was being helpful and kind. And all he got was more pain and things that made him sick. And now he is dead. All just to reflect the body standards that are around these days. Because He knows those images are constantly shifting. Because the goal of those body ideals is that they remain unachievable. That’s the point – and perhaps the only truth in it all. The perfect body doesn’t exist.

Because, as our Buckaroo would like to remind us, that’s all just arbitrary bullshit without any scientific backup.

“Small wonder he was in pain,” Buck agrees, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Judging by his knees and feet, he ran way too much and without being properly educated as to how to run without causing injury. Also, bad footwear. Those people at the gym are extremely careless when it comes to their customers, is all I can say.”

“Yeah, look at that!” Chim says, showing some ads on the big screen. “Maximum Leg Press, if your legs don’t burn, you’re not doing it right. X Fit, for those who think CrossFit is too easy. ColLateral Damage, the lateral muscle exercise to get your neck strong and your chest even stronger…”

Hen leans her head back. “This whole thing makes me mad, but the bad advertising makes it impossibly worse.”

At least they could bother to be creative, damn it.

“All of those exercises are risky, even more so when they are executed by people who are not properly educated in carrying them out,” Buck points out, gesturing at the screen. “To me, it’s a miracle that there haven’t been more injuries at that gym.”

“None that we know of yet, though I think the gym has a vested interest not to have that info become public,” Eddie argues.

Buck shrugs. “True again.”

“Video footage confirms that Jimmy was last at the gym when he won the competition, which was two weeks ago,” Eddie continues. “Makes me wonder whether one of the other athletes wanted to be the cover boy and wanted Jimmy gone.”

“Well, I’ll have my fun sorting through the colorful parade Buck promised me,” Hen grunts, making her displeasure absolutely no secret. “Which is to say: I’m not looking forward to that at all.”

“You’re doing the Lord’s work,” Chim teases.

Buck puckers his lips. “I thought the Christian boss man didn’t approve of condoms?”

“The Christian boss man?” Eddie gawks, clearly upset at that choice of words.

Hen chuckles softly, then tells Buck, “That’s the Catholic Church, and those guys should have no say on the down below business of anyone ever.”

“Well, historically, controlling sexuality and sexual practices was a way of exerting power, particularly over women, social outcasts, deviants. And with the institution of the church having a vested interest to maintain their power…,” explains, but she cuts him short, “As I was saying, they have no business in the down below business. God said so. So no, Lord’s work certainly does not lie in that colorful latex parade.”

“He works in mysterious ways,” Chim continues anyway.

“And sometimes they smell of fake cherry,” Buck laughs.

Chimney picks up one of the bags with the condoms and opens it for a quick inhale. “That’s supposed to be cherry? I shall be damned.”

“Stop sniffing them!” Hen cries out.

Which certainly confirms one truth she’s known since she was a young girl: Men are disgusting.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you guys to that. I’ll be talking to the parents. They live in Florida and only arrived today,” Eddie sighs.

Buck opens his mouth to say something, but Eddie carries on before he can, “Buck, you don’t have to come with. I think it’s more important that we get that skull reassembled, see what may have killed him.”

“… Okay,” Buck answers slowly. “On it.”

Hen tilts her head. She can tell that there is something up in that exchange. While Buck’s emotions work in mysterious ways, too, he is terribly bad at keeping his emotions off his face. And there is something underneath that confusion that leaves her wondering what that may be about.

“Okay, great, catch you later,” Eddie says hurriedly. “Call me if you find anything.”

“Sure, bye.”

“Bye.”

With that, he flies out the door.

Hen gets up to settle down next to Buck. “Everything alright? You have that frowny face going on.”

And Buck frowning means Buck thinking. And Buck thinking means he usually goes places. And Buck going places can lead down roads you don’t want to travel, ever.

“Yeah, sure, it’s just… I don’t know… I guess I should be focusing on this, is all,” Buck mutters, still looking at the spot where Eddie just stood.

“You two had a disagreement?” she asks.

“None that I know of. I just… doesn’t matter,” Buck mumbles, lost in thought.” The skull needs reassembly, that’s correct. So let’s focus on that.”

Hen makes a mental note to touch up on that later, but she also knows there is hardly any getting through to Buck when his eyes are set on a target. And that target is now putting that skull back together.

“How did the conference go, by the way?” Chimney asks.

Right, there was something else she was more than pissed about. But everything in time.

“Apparently, Denny has a teacher who’s a complete moron,” she pouts, exasperated. “No way our son is no good in biology. One of his mothers is a pathologist. That man does not know what he’s talking about. And I let him know that.”

“Wait, did you get expelled from parent conference day?” Chimney teases.

“No. You can’t get expelled from parent conference day,” she retorts.

“Oh, so you did,” he laughs.

“I did not.”

“Did, too.”

Hen glowers at him.

“Well, maybe they are covering something in biology right now that’s not human anatomy, which is the subject Denny would have an advantage in, with one of his mothers being one of the country’s best pathologist,” Buck points out.

“Damn, I sure hope I won’t slip on the slime you’re oozing there, Buckaroo,” Chimney laughs, gesturing at the floor.

“What? For pointing out the facts?” Hen narrows her eyes at him.

Chimney bows his head, scratches the back of his head, acting innocently.

“Well, back on topic here: That is why we got those subjects covered with his lovely babysitter who’s all into bugs and slime and flora and fauna,” Hen continues.

Buck grins at her. “It’s me. I’m the lovely guy.”

“Cute,” Chim teases, patting his head. Buck swats his hand away, prompting him to ruffle up his hair even more. Buck makes a shrieking sound as he fends Chimney off, but then breaks out laughing. Hen shakes her head with a soft smile.

Yes, men might be a disgusting, but moments like that let her have a little faith in anyone beside her most wonderful son. Buck and Chimney came a long way. And knowing both their histories at least to a certain degree, Hen will always find it a beautiful thing that the two found a “brother from another mother” in each other, as they will tell anyone who asks.

“I know I’m cute,” Buck grins, trying to ease his messed-up hair back. He then turns to Hen with a mild look. “Well, it’s still possible the guy has to base his teachings on books from twenty years ago. That may explain some discrepancy? Just bouncing some ideas.”

“My son does not deserve a C in biology, period,” she declares. That teacher is clearly out of his mind. Denny has always been an excellent student. Biology was never an issue. So to her, it seems more likely that there is something wrong with the person who just started teaching him when Denny didn’t have any issues before.

“Of course he doesn’t,” Chim huffs. Hen chooses to ignore the sarcastic undertone.

“Which is why I have to figure out how to make that man understand the wrongs of his ways,” Hen lets them know. She made up her mind in the parking lot of the school already – she won’t let that stand.

“If someone can do it, it’s surely you who will unhinge the board of education,” Chimney laughs.

“I don’t need to overthrow the damn empire, I just know that my son is better than what the teacher is giving him, and I won’t stand for that,” she points out.

Buck tilts his head. “Did the teacher say anything about how he acts in class?”

“My son is an angel.”

“Right.”

“And there were no complaints in any other classes,” Hen adds.

What is he trying to get at, hm?

“Maybe he likes that teacher about as much as one of his mothers does,” Chimney snorts.

“You’re saying I’m a bad influence for my son?” Hen glowers at him.

Chimney takes a step back, holding up his hands in surrender. “I never would.”

Hen crosses her arms over her chest. “Good, I better never hear that coming out of your mouth again. And now I’m going to do what scientists do… and wade through used condoms.”

“Hallelujah!”

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

“I see it’s coming all together?”

“You really think that the hundredth time is going to make this joke funny?” Buck huffs as Chimney makes his way inside the bone room where Buck is lining up the skull fragments laid out on the table with the rest of the bones.

“It’s a classic.”

“Starting to feel your true age, I take?”

Chimney chuckles as he punches him in the arm slightly, rounding the table.

“Well, reassembling the skull won’t be that hard. It wasn’t completely broken apart. My trouble is with the remaining bones. A lot got chewed on by the animals, which will make it harder to determine what damage was done antemortem and postmortem. Also, the bones are not in great shape, generally speaking,” Buck ponders, gesturing at the table.

“Well, after they were dog chew, small wonder.”

“That’s not it. I’ve had victims like that before, but the bones took a lot of damage for that only small critter fed on the victim. He landed on rather soft ground, too…”

Chimney tilts his head to the side. “You have that thinky face on again. Do share with the class, otherwise I feel left out.”

“It’s just…,” Buck mutters, picking up one of the bones, testing it with his gloved hands. “They shouldn’t have the amount of damage. The scratches are deeper than they should be. Daisy’s teeth sunk in much deeper than they would for a dog her size. I could only determine the kind based on the jaw outline.”

“Maybe she just got really strong jaws,” Chimney jokes, clicking his teeth.

“No, that’s not really it. Something is up with those bones. They are too prone to damage to…,” Buck says, then stops. “Hold on a sec.”

Chimney watches as Buck walks straight over to the shelves containing human remains behind them. He checks the labels, then pulls out one of the plastic boxes.

“Ugh, Buckaroo. We are working on that lad here, c’mon, focus,” Chimney argues, gesturing at the table. Because he has seen Buck completely lose track of the original task and go on with something else just because his mind commanded him to.

“I just need to confirm something,” the younger man answers. He takes out a femur from the box and then picks up the victim’s femur with the other.

“Weird flex for a workout, even for our lot,” Chimney comments.

“The victim’s bones are lighter than they should be,” Buck says.

Chim frowns. “What now?”

“I took out a bone that comes from someone about Jimmy’s physique. Jimmy’s bone is much lighter,” Buck replies. “Look.”

While Chimney is not the bone guy – pun totally intended – he will have to see for himself. So he grabs some gloves and puts them on with a snap. Buck hands the bones over, his mind already rushing a thousand miles ahead by the second. Chimney tests the weight and indeed they are indeed different.

“What the hell?” he mutters under his breath.

Buck picks up another set of bones for comparison. “Same thing here. This is not just some anomaly on the femur. This is a recurring pattern.”

“How would his bones be lighter, though?” Chimney asks, handing the bones back over to Buck. He watches as his friend places them both back on the table and the box with utmost care.

“They are not as dense as they should be,” Buck ponders, still lost in thought.

“The frowny face is intensifying.”

Buck puts the bones back down. And if the saying was true that the brain was all about gears, people could hear them turn inside the man’s head a mile away. Maybe even more.

A few moments later, Buck’s head shoots up. “Wait, I think I know why.”

“That was fast,” Chimney huffs. Though he has since grown accustomed to the fact that Buck is someone whose brain makes three turns in the time it takes normal brains to make one. Sometimes, it means he’s too many steps ahead. But at the very least, it gets you up to speed fast. That much is for sure.

“Jimmy had osteoporosis,” Buck states.

Chimney blinks. “Why would a kid his age have osteoporosis?”

Last time he checked, that was more of an old-people-disease, right?

“There’s many causes, but steroids can greatly contribute to it, so that might be a possible explanation,” Buck tells him pensively. “Though the timeline is still somewhat off. Hen said that he likely only started about five months ago, with the steroids. But for osteoporosis at this level, it would have to be much longer than that.”

“That poor kid. He just wanted to lose some weight, and now he’s been food for the critters for days without anyone noticing him gone,” Chimney sighs, looking back at the bones laid out on the table.

Much like Buck, he sees faces when he looks at a skull. Part of the job, after all. Now Chimney has also seen pictures, of the few there are from before Jimmy’s transition. And they all confirm that this guy had a nice and kind face matching his personality. And such a nice, kind face was then eaten off by the critters after someone left him there to die and rot. It is their daily business to deal with that, surely, but Chimney won’t ever get accustomed to that. He doesn’t want to either. Because that would mean acceptance, and this not acceptable by any means.

“Yeah, because the people at the gym do such a great job caring about their clients,” Buck huffs, gritting his teeth.

“You’re also pissed off, huh?”

“Jimmy could’ve done with a few pounds less and a bit of exercise, to take pressure off his bones and strengthen his muscles, more so if he had some genetic predisposition for osteoporosis. But he was in good health before he started to get jacked-up. He was a regular kid. And from what Eddie told us, quite brilliant at his job. And now that young man is dead. Just because people decided that his body didn’t fit in with the rest. Yes, that pisses me off, a lot.”

Buck moves back to the shelf to return the bones he compared to Jimmy’s, his facial expression hardening with every step. He and Chimney always shared in that notion. In fact, everyone at the lab does. But Chim saw since the early beginnings of Buck working for the Jeffersonian that this guy refuses to get used to people disregarding human life, whatever shape or form it has.

Because to Buck, that’s all just window dressing. For Chimney, it’s the other way around. For him, the bones are the way to get a face. And the face is not just something on top of a bone. For him, truth lies in a person’s face. For Buck, truth always lies underneath it.

Chimney has worked with forensic anthropologists before, duh, but working with Buck has changed his way of working entirely. Not just because the guy is a big oddball. But because Buck has a view on what is around him that Chim never saw with anyone else he worked alongside with.

And sure, no two people look at the world the exact same way, he knows that much. But Buck’s view on the world has always been a peculiar one. Chimney can still remember the earlier times of Buck working for the Jeffersonian. He thought the guy was a goner within a week, which he was correct about, until Bobby brought him back. Though truth was that he was disappointed when he heard Buck had been fired.

Most of the time, when the science folks hear of what Chim does, they roll their eyes at him, at best. Once they understand what he can actually do, once he’s proven it, Chimney is sure to have their attention and respect, but it’s always a process of getting there.

That wasn’t so with Buck. On his first day, Buck came to his office and gushed about that online gallery walk Chimney had done to present his digital art. He wanted to know all about it. How he does it, what his method is. Chimney never would’ve called it a method but a technique. Though he understood that for Buck, his art was science, a way of sense-making. To him, it was real science without the label on it.

And then Buck kept asking questions for about an hour, nonstop. He wanted to know if that type of reconstruction was something he could do, if there was a program of his design to analyze bones under these circumstances and those other circumstances. He didn’t just ask what Chimney could currently do, but Buck instantly started scratching at what else he might do with his method.

Chimney didn’t need Buck’s approval or praise. That’s not it. He’d since learned his value to the Jeffersonian, all the more thanks to Bobby and Hen. But it really is as Buck said before, about the bones from Tibet. How it makes a difference how you approach an object. How it changes through your perception, through the knowledge you have of where it comes from. Because it creates pictures in your head, ready or not. And Buck came without any pictures, any filters, it’d seem, safe for his sheer excitement for Chim’s work, his method, and the possibilities ahead, some of which still need another three laps before they can be realized.

So he was genuinely relieved when Buck returned and has remained with the Jeffersonian since. Because also thanks to Buck, Chimney found new ways of looking at that which is before him, of learning new techniques, creating entirely new methods. By learning to see things like Buck, he finds new ways to look at the world around him, look at the victims, and see something that’s underneath the skin, right down to the bone.

And while he knows Buck and he will always look at the world differently, Chimney always has the feeling that when it comes to looking at human remains, they get each other on a level most others don’t. And he wouldn’t ever want to miss that, even less so since that same guy grew to be such a close friend of his.

But he is also a giant pain in the ass. So it’s always a give and take in the end.

“People are brutal when it comes to body images,” Chimney ponders, looking back at the bones, looking back at the remains of Jimmy Granger, of a guy with a kind face, and even kinder face, whose life ended way too fast and not at all on the high note it was supposed to.

He’s seen plenty of that during his art studies. Searching for the perfect body type for portraits, for photo projects. A fellow student did a wonderful project on different body types that he helped create the website for. Though those are very often the exception. Instead, they get a weird high from watching obese people on TV getting beaten down for having the audacity to have a different body type, or maybe even lead a lifestyle that’s not 100% healthy.

Most people can’t look beyond what’s programmed into their brains to consider as beautiful – both by nature and nurture. Because sure, we find particular beauty in symmetry. That’s coded into our DNA, as Buck loves to remind whoever dares to ask. But we are also taught what’s beautiful, what’s ugly, what’s norm, what isn’t.

And Chimney always found that when a subject likens itself to be the free arts, the place for free spirits to thrive, it seems awfully delimiting to only focus on what’s the norm.

“Those people at the gym keep pressuring perfectly healthy people to bust their body fat to come close to ideals set out by magazines and websites making it seem like this is healthy. It’s not. Women don’t need thigh gaps,” Buck grumbles. “Men don’t need a six pack. The strongest men on the planet don’t look like Jay, trust me.”

“Well, he still tore down that door,” Chimney jokes.

“That, he did,” Buck sighs. He picks up the skull for inspection again.

“Jimmy was helpful and polite. And he went to those people for support. But in the end, all they cared about was to boost their stupid business. Jimmy deserved better than to have his picture on a wall to tell him that only with one percent body fat he’s of value to anyone else,” Buck continues, his grimace tightening. “People don’t need to optimize their bodies to be… valuable.”

He puts the skull back down and moves along the table. It always looks like a chase when Buck is in that mood. Like he is closing in on the target.

“Yeah, there’s a whole industry profiting off of making people feel miserable, only to present them with some magic powder that can make them look like what they are told is the only way to look,” Chim snorts.

Buck stops in his tracks, the motions closer. “Huh.”

“What? Said something that got you thinking?”

“Not really,” Buck replies bluntly. “I just noticed a scaphoid fracture.”

Chimney grins at him, choosing to ignore the underlying criticism out of goodwill. “Let’s pretend I didn’t know which bone that is.”

“It’s part of the base of the wrist,” Buck says, picking said bone up to show it to him. “Here.”

“What’s odd about it? If he fell down before he died, that may explain it, right?” Chim argues. He’s run countless scenarios of just that kind before.

“That injury is older, though. It already started to heal. See, there’s traces of remodeling on the bone. I’d say he sustained the injury a month prior to his death,” Buck explains, gesturing at the bone. “He didn’t have it treated, though. It wasn’t immobilized as it should’ve been. So he went on training without a splint or brace regardless.”

Chim furrows his eyebrows at that. “Doesn’t that… hurt?”

“It does. But judging by the gym’s teachings, it just shows you that the workout works, so he may have thought it’s all part of the process. Or just ignored it to run that extra mile.”

“Those guys should run an extra mile into a lake.”

“I agree,” Buck huffs. “He didn’t sustain any more injuries to his hands when he died. He fell down face-first.”

“Ouch.”

“He definitely broke his nose in the process,” Buck mutters. “Though Jimmy may have been unconscious or dead by the time already. It’s hard to tell. But it would explain why he wouldn’t shield his face before impact.”

Buck looks back at the screen for any more signs on the bones he missed. Because there is always more to learn, as he keeps reminding everyone, till the day he dies, surely.

“What strikes me is how stiff he was when he fell,” Buck continues. “If he had a heart attack or something to that effect, he’d normally go down slower, maybe even go to his knees first, and then collapse forward.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Chimney agrees. “That’s not the usual pattern for a fall. I can run some scenarios, if that helps.”

Buck nods his head. “That’d be great. I’d say it’s best to focus on scenarios of him having been shoved or him receiving a hit to anywhere but the head. Since I find no markings on the skull, the impact would’ve had to be on some of the bones the animals already took. And of course scenarios of him simply collapsing, for comparison.”

“Alright, will do,” Chimney agrees. “I’ll see what kind of body type or possible weapons that’d give us, if someone else was indeed involved.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, hi there,” Eddie’s voice rings out as he peeks his head inside the bone room.

“Hi,” Buck replies, eyes set on the bones.

“I’ll see you later, then,” Chimney says, tapping him on the shoulder, but Eddie is moving into his path. “Maybe you could hang on a bit longer. I might have something for you to take a look at.”

“Oh, sure. I wasn’t in a hurry as Buck has not yet unleashed the tapeworms again.”

“How are the parents?” Buck questions.

“They are devastated, of course. That’s not what you want to hear about your son. He really was a good kid. He paid for them to fulfill their dream of having a small shop down in Florida. They never had much, but they still paid for his tuition and all, so he could get proper education. Jimmy made for a decent living as a software engineer, but he gave most of it to them. He only took enough to pay for the rent and food and such. The rest went all to fulfilling his parents’ dreams.”

“Which makes it all the more infuriating that their son is dead, and it may very well be thanks to the changes he wanted to surprise them with – and the people who didn’t teach him how to do that properly,” Buck grumbles, still not bothering to look at anyone other than Jimmy, really.

Because that’s Buck’s focus – always.

“The parents said they noticed that he was rather distant the past couple of months. He didn’t wanna video chat, only called,” Eddie continues. “Looks like he wanted to surprise them with his transformation.”

“I don’t yet know what exactly killed him. There’s no obvious injury that’d serve as the final blow – at least on the bones that we have here,” Buck tells him. “I can tell you Jimmy fell pretty hard two weeks before he died.”

“Which he left untreated,” Chim adds.

“Yeah, he didn’t see his doc at all. I called the practice earlier. Obviously, they can’t tell us much. But I was told he hasn’t checked in for about half a year,” Eddie replies.

“Which would match the time of him starting the training,” Chimney ponders. “Seems like he knew his doc wouldn’t be pleased with that.”

“Chim will run scenarios for us to determine possible ways in which Jimmy may have fallen,” Buck informs him. “That may give us a clue about how he actually died.”

Chimney grins at Eddie. “Because I’m amazing like that.”

“So you think it’s possible it wasn’t murder at all?” Eddie asks.

“It’s possible that Jimmy simply died from the side effects of his massive workout routine. But it’s also possible that something happened prior to the event that brought him to the point. Or that he was killed – and we just don’t know because those bones were carried away by the animals. It’s hard to tell,” Buck answers.

“Hm. I’ve checked in with Jimmy’s boss as well. There didn’t seem to be any beef with anyone. Since he mostly worked remote, hardly anyone knew him.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you went to the office,” Buck says, his eyes still firmly planted on the bone, but Chimney can tell that he’d like to look Eddie in the eye right now. Hen noted it earlier already, and Chim can long since see it. Something is at odds here.

“It was basically on the way from the FBI to here, you know, after talking to the parents,” Eddie answers.

Chim tilts his head. He can’t say he is particularly good at reading people. He’ll gladly leave that to the agent. But there is something on his face that he can’t miss – because that’s his perspective. There is a curl on his lip that makes his features look tight, like they are closing in on themselves.

“Okay, sure.” Buck purses his lips. “So what’s the next move, investigation-wise?”

Chimney can tell that the wheels are turning inside the young man’s head, which is not always a good thing, especially if he tries to make sense of a situation. Buck is ridiculously smart, but he is not people-smart, by his own admission. And his method is always to get to the bottom of it. Though some people don’t appreciate that one bit.

“I wanna check out the gym some more,” Eddie explains. “If someone envied Jimmy for winning the big prize, someone may have overheard him arguing with someone. Or we find the one who did.”

“I still find it hard to believe that someone would kill someone for a few grand,” Chim sighs. It gets him every time, reading the reports. How often it’s petty things like money, jealousy, or just because a guy thought he deserved to have power over a woman because he has a dick and most certainly doesn’t know how to use it correctly.

“Sadly, for many people, morality ends where the money begins,” Eddie exhales.

Buck twists the skull he took back into his hand, not looking up for even just a second. “And for Jimmy, that’s where his life ended.”

“You said you had something for me, too?” Chimney asks Eddie, frowning. Because this sounded more like something he’d only need Buck for. Not that he minds, but he does have better to do than just hang around – at least when he is not himself choosing when to hang around.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. The parents gave us a permit to search Jimmy’s private laptop. I thought that maybe you could have a look. As far as we can tell, he was pretty high on the security standards,” Eddie explains.

Chimney nods with a grin, pleased. “Nice. That should keep me preoccupied for a while.”

“Okay, that means we’re all set here,” Eddie says, clapping his hands together. There is determination now, Chimney can tell as much. But the moment his eyes dart towards Buck, the determination shifts to something else he can’t quite place.

“So you want me to come with,” Buck says, asks, really, but he seemingly doesn’t want to sound surprised.

“Maybe someone shoved Jimmy prior to his death for the wrist injury. You might be able to figure out who’d fit the profile, right?”

Buck shrugs. “It depends.”

“Then yeah, you should come along,” Eddie says, nodding his head.

Buck licks his lips, looks at him for a long moment, then looks down again. “Alright, then.”

Chimney keeps studying his friend as he takes off the gloves. His brows are furrowed, his lips pursed, there is a crease that normally only reveals itself when he is thinking too hard. Chim can tell that much because to him, the face is the way to what lies underneath, but right now, he is not exactly sure what he is looking at.

Though knowing Buck, it’s only a matter of time till they will find out. Because where Buck likes to only look at the facts, only just the bones, his friends look at the world from their own angles, and from their angle, Buck is always there, sometimes at the center, sometimes at the periphery. But he is always there. Because they changed each other’s way of looking at the world. And that means he is part of their perception as much as they are part of his.

We keep an eye on each other, simple as that.

“See you later, Chim,” Buck says, grabbing his jacket.

“See ya.”

We always make sure of it, don’t we?

#buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diza #eddie diaz x evan buckley #fanfic #in smol #buddie fanfic #buddie au #wip wednesday

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beantothemax · 10 months

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Welcome to the au where everything is the same except Hikari, Rai Mei, Ritsu, and Kazan remain friends. This changed several things about the plot and also gives a big “Ah Fuck” moment for Kazan.

You think that these four get smarter and more dangerous when they are together but in reality they get dumber when they are together! Still dangerous! They just go and lose several brain cells in the process.

They are all their worst influence in impulse control. They all do stupid things to piss off Mugen and to try and make Ku a little better. You think Kazan would be the responsible one but really it’s Hikari, who is only marginally better.

Kazan would make a whole battle plan while drunk, execute said plan, and then wake up at his house with no memory of said plan.

Rai Mei is doing spear tricks in increasing difficulty and danger while negotiating with other generals regarding her clan.

Ritsu is going up in the ranks for the sole reason of getting to Mugen and having an unfortunate accident befall on him.

And Hikari is in the corner drinking some tea while also helping Ritsu in said unfortunate accident.

Canon plot still happens though but this time Hikari, Ritsu, Rai Mei, and Kazan get lost in the desert for 4 days and having them somehow get to Orerush is a miracle. And also Kazan may be quietly thinking to himself about the incredibly shitty day he had before the capital burned, the empty flask, and the fact that he once again made a whole battle strategy only to forget everything the next morning.

Everything is chaos and fluffy and I am sure no angst is in there :))))

!!!!!! YEEAHHH WOOO

love how these four are just significantly stupider together. they r dumb and we love them <3

rai mei does kickflips off of her spear. she keeps falling on her face/accidentally stabbing herself but she is determined to get it right

and yes ritsu!!!!! go ‘accidentally’ shove a blade through mugen’s head!!!!!!

Partitio walks out of his house one day and just sees 4 very lost-looking travelers all looking at a map, which they’re holding upside-down

oh boy I’m sure glad for nothing bad to happen to anyone!

#asks #sombrerokiwi

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jcmarchi · 2 months

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Using AI to Predict the Spread of Lung Cancer - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/using-ai-to-predict-the-spread-of-lung-cancer-technology-org/

Using AI to Predict the Spread of Lung Cancer - Technology Org

For decades, scientists and pathologists have tried, without much success, to come up with a way to determine which individual lung cancer patients are at greatest risk of having their illness spread, or metastasize, to other parts of the body. Now a team of scientists from Caltech and Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis has fed that problem to artificial intelligence (AI) algorithms, asking computers to predict which cancer cases are likely to metastasize. In a novel pilot study of non-small cell lung cancer (NSCLC) patients, AI outperformed expert pathologists in making such predictions.

These predictions about the progression of lung cancer have important implications in terms of an individual patient’s life. Physicians treating early-stage NSCLC patients face the extremely difficult decision of whether to intervene with expensive, toxic treatments, such as chemotherapy or radiation, after a patient undergoes lung surgery. In some ways, this is the more cautious path because more than half of stage I–III NSCLC patients eventually experience metastasis to the brain. But that means many others do not. For those patients, such difficult treatments are wholly unnecessary.

In the new study, published in the Journal of Pathology, the collaborators show that AI holds promise as a tool that could one day aid physicians in this decision-making.

“Overtreatment of cancer patients is a big problem,” says Changhuei Yang, the Thomas G. Myers Professor of Electrical Engineering, Bioengineering, and Medical Engineering at Caltech and an investigator with the Heritage Medical Research Institute. “Our pilot study indicates that AI may be very good at telling us in particular which patients are very unlikely to develop brain cancer metastasis.”

Yang cautions that the work is only a first step and that a larger study is needed to validate the findings.

The team worked with data and biopsy images collected from 118 NSCLC patients at Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis. Typically, a pathologist reviews such images, scouring them for abnormalities within the cells that might suggest the cancer is progressing.

Caltech electrical engineers led by Yang used hundreds of thousands of image tiles pulled from those 118 original biopsy images to train a type of AI program called a deep-learning network. They also provided follow-up data about which patients went on to develop brain metastases within five years of diagnosis and which did not.

“We essentially asked the network to learn from all these images, to pick out some features from the contextual information that could indicate something about a patient’s outcome,” says graduate student Haowen Zhou, first author of the new paper. Then the network was given 40 additional biopsy images and asked to determine whether the patients had gone on to experience brain metastases.

The AI network was able to correctly predict whether an individual NSCLC patient had experienced brain metastasis 87 percent of the time. In contrast, four expert pathologists who reviewed the same biopsy images were able to make the correct predictions only 57 percent of the time.

“Our study is an indication that AI methods may be able to make meaningful predictions that are specific and sensitive enough to impact patient management,” says Richard Cote, head of the Department of Pathology & Immunology at Washington University School of Medicine and co-principal investigator of the new study. He notes that for the earliest-stage NSCLC patients (those classified as stage I), the AI results were even better than those for the whole study and that these predictions were based solely on basic, routinely processed microscopic slides. By giving the AI information on additional factors such as the severity of the disease and any additional biomarkers, the researchers expect that they will be able to improve the predictive powers of the AI program going forward.

Interestingly, the AI program does not indicate exactly what factors cause it to make certain predictions. So, the team is also working to uncover the subtle and complex features of tumor cells and their surroundings that the AI program might be homing in on.

“It’s looking at what we would look at as a pathologist,” Cote says. “But it’s seeing more than we can see.” Perhaps, he says, once scientists learn exactly what AI is focusing on, they will be able to develop new therapeutics to address those indicators.

Also looking forward, Yang’s group at Caltech is interested in developing instrumentation and processes that would help scientists and clinicians collect more uniform and higher-quality biopsy images to boost the accuracy of AI predictions. “Once we can see what the AI is doing, we can start to think about how to design imaging and microscopy instruments to more optimally get the data that the AI wants,” Yang says. “We can move away from imaging instruments designed for human use and move toward making instruments that are optimized for machine use.”

Written by Kimm Fesenmaier

Source: Caltech

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anklebitersugaraddict · 2 months

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"but which me is the true me?"

buddy boy (gender neutral), the self is like the body. It has numerous systems/aspects that all rely on and support one another. They're all intertwined.

"Am I determined by my mind or my brain?"

It's both, bud. Do you move with your skeletal or muscle system?

"Am I my memories? My feelings? My opinions?"

Is your body your endocrine system, your integumentary system, your nervous system, your circulatory system?

"All these aspects of myself change. My opinions change. I don't perceive this the same way I used to."

First time a virus gets into the body, it'll get some cells before the B lymphocytes yeet that sucker. The T memory cells will record the virus and stay to warn the cells in the future. Next time the virus comes by, the body recognizes it and takes it out immediately. The body adapts and changes as it learns.

"I'm not the same person I was back then. I'm so different from who I used to be."

When you were born, was that body yours? When you were 12, was it still yours? How about 17? 30? 60? They're all vastly different and all equally your body.

"I'm a different person around my various friends. It's like I have a different personality or set of behaviors that I slide into around each one."

First off, look into autistic masking. Might not be related to your situation, but at worst, you'll be a neurotypical who learned something new. Secondly, the parasympathetic and sympathetic nervous systems are both perpetually active, but at varying levels with one being more influential than the other. In intense situations, the sympathetic nervous system has more influence and is preparing you for danger. Think fight or flight. When you are not in a threatening situation, the parasympathetic nervous system has more influence and is allowing the gears in your body to keep turning. Neither one is more or less the autonomic nervous system. Both have their own environment that they will be more active in. Both are always there, but one will be more active in a specific environment.

"There are parts of me that even I don't understand! Parts I'm not even aware of! There are aspects of myself I can't even perceive!"

It's called the subconscious, chief. Look into Jung's concept of the Shadow Self or the theory of Internal Family Systems by Dr. Shwartz (the latter is probably better but the former is more widely recognized). Your body is more than just what you can perceive naturally. You can make out surface details like your skin. You can feel solid, core aspects central to you like your bones. You can perceive parts of yourself that grow and learn depending on how you work with and teach them like your muscles. And then there are the squishy bits. You can feel your viscera, but can you feel your stomach from your small intestine? Can you locate the duodenum? Can you feel your liver? You know its there, you can slightly perceive it, but not enough to clearly distinguish or name it. But it still functions and it's only one piece in a complex arrangement of interworking systems. It can be an important piece that has a lot of influence like the kidneys, or maybe it's like the appendix and won't really affect your life if you're lucky.

"Am I the product of nurture or the inevitable result of nature? Do my choices alone define me?"

Is you body the product of ecological factors or your parents' genes? Do your diet, exercise, and life habits alone define your body?

The self is the culmination of numerous factors, all working together in a complex arrangement to function as a whole. You cannot be limited by one aspect. If you are to determined to water the concept of your very being down to one singular trait, it is that you grow. You may not perceive it all the time, but every bit of you grows and changes. Even your bones are living organs that adapt and grow.

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perpetual-fool · 3 months

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Saw a thing yesterday, story about a kid who had a psychotic break after being stuck in solitary confinement for weeks. (I think that's what it's called?) He started seeing movement out of the corner of his eye and hearing voices whispering to him. Then he started seeing shadow people. And then his cell turned into a forest, his food and water turning into tree bark and sap. It sounds nice, naively.

And that got me thinking about reality. Initially idle stuff like: if you were in that sort of situation, how would you determine what's real? But then on to my personal issue. Like, I'm not sure I know what's real because people constantly undercut my understanding. The world is consistent enough, but people will never confirm anything, they almost never react in a way that's simply valid, and they may well have different answers for the same question one breath to the next. And in principle, consistency is the only way you could be sure of reality. So, a new thought. I've thought people were fundamentally fraudulent in some way plenty of times. I've never thought I might just be hallucinating them before. And that explanation works a little better than my previous. So it's somewhat likely that I am crazy, and there's no one actually out there to be reading this.

How would I live with that? Like, I was noticing that others' behavior seem to calibrate 'real' for me. Seeing videos of others telling stories or something, I feel like that's more real than any of my experiences. And obviously that's not working. I presume it would if I wasn't insane. But the alternative is what? talking to myself? So I'm trying that again. I mean, I've been attempting to do that in an ongoing way, but I think I missed a key concept. When I'm talking to 'Mare' I've been doing each side of the conversation individually. Sort of like moving a piece on a chessboard, then flipping it around to consider the opposing move. I'm always in 'compose' mode. But when listening to others, I'm in 'absorb' mode. So I'm trying to split my thinking and activate both at the same time, as being 'the other player' is what's significant. It's different but I'm not sure it's going anywhere. Like, if I'm already ruined then I don't see how putting myself into a feedback loop is going to help.

*Aside, my 'understanding' is very mismatched. I plug my brain into things like I'm making them an extension of myself. Effect being, when people are emoting about something it's very hard for me to not believe them. Like, there has to be *something* making them feel that way. Of course that's substantiated virtually never. So intellectually I know that probably 99/100 times people are just directly making shit up, but it feels like I must be missing something. I don't have a defense for their hypothetically honestly being wrong, much less fraud. That doesn't seem right.

Anyway, I ended up dredging up some memories. About people being fake; I often lament about the life I could've had being stolen from me, but I was never going to have a life in this world. I was considering college, my own crisis when the facade finally fell apart. Schools were never going to teach anything. Religion was a scam. The path I had been forced down led nowhere. And I should have learned that no one had ever genuinely cared about me. I suppose I don't know that jobs aren't real, since I've never been well enough to apply for anything. I do know the government isn't. Psych told me I'm disabled, government said I'm not, but specifically the reason was that they dictated that it doesn't affect my daily activities. Nice of them to lie openly at least, most people don't give me that courtesy.

So, there was never any life to have had. And I'm not sure what I'm going through now is actually happening.

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stoutsandoval64 · 1 year

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7 College Tips Of Advice From Been Unsuccessful Graduate

Sleeping it's time when your body rebuilds independently. Cerebrum Cortex Reviews believe that truly sleep not less six to eight hours a particular date. You should also try in order to consider ten-minute power naps. After these refreshing sleeps and naps, really can feel energized to approach to more activity. That was only a brief overview with the I've discussed thus some distance. It's kind of like me playing the game "If I could only take X quantity of items with deserted tropical isle." If I could just do 4 things I've discussed thus far, brought on those 4. Those will give you the biggest bang for your specific buck. Exercise is very important because permits your brain to read more oxygen. It occurs because, once you exercise, your blood circulation is increased and your red blood cells feed your brain with more oxygen. Because of this real fuel for your brain, therefore if you are about grow brain power, make sure you have at least 30 min a day of physical procedure. Refrain from playing games that do not exercise neural chemistry has to. Be sure to determine games that stimulate must re-balance. There are computer games that are made to exercise your thought processes. Gaming consoles are also designed to boost brain capabilities. So, in order increase your brain power, make sure to choose and play games that can boost needs to power. What Yields Work? The doctors weren't trying to fool their patients; had been looking trying assist them by activating the placebo end results. What happens essentially a involving reactions only occurs in the brain that change its undertaking. Just like the soldiers thinking they were getting painkiller, which they fully expected to ease their pain, it worked despite the fact that they were given saline treatment. The result was the same, it killed the discomfort. The reason dust and grime is since your brain controls your body, and ideas control your brain. There a variety of different Nootropic drugs out there and all of them work differently. Most people taking nootropics notice improvement in memory, mood, ability to concentrate, motivation and reaction time. How much of a difference is an issue of the person and the medication they're taking. Training must be done do advantage from taking nootropics, even if it's subtle. Natural supplements are regarded as have a beneficial effect over a brain. Supplements maintain the fitness of one's brain; contributing to better brain power; whilst our bodies healthier. You will find these popular supplements anywhere, from your local grocery store, health food store, and even on the internet. Take time to relax from the worries and stresses might overwhelm ideas. You may want to test spas or meditations and start to give your mind a break from all of the hassle. After a relaxation, seeing feel that you are prepared to consider another complex day!

#Cerebrum Cortex Review

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regaldragonempress · 1 year

Text

I posted 335 times in 2022

18 posts created (5%)

317 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@professorsparklepants

@elytrians

@phoenixyfriend

@tanoraqui

@unpretty

I tagged 126 of my posts in 2022

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles - 3 posts

#food mention - 3 posts

#friend writing - 2 posts

#star wars - 2 posts

#east coast us - 2 posts

#to show dad - 2 posts

#can spell really well - 1 post

#can cook but i get bored - 1 post

#can drive - 1 post

#funny - 1 post

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#“merry merry christmas” in the most terrible key and i'm down on the floor like “pls i just want to pick this water shut up”

My Top Posts in 2022:

if you’re following me about the whale comment i swear i’m not usually that stupid i just had a no brain cell moment

5 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

🦀 time for crab 🦀

today i summoned one crab and then we fell in love 🦀💙 crab my beloved

6 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

blursed linguistics thing

So! I write a lot of BNHA fic, and while determining the brief description of an underclassman to 2-A, I had an Epiphany.

We’ve already seen in fandoms the rise of new epithets referring to hair color, like “greenette” (which considering it’s usually referring to Izuku should be “greenet” but anyway) or “bluenette” (Marinette MiraculousLadybug). I fully believe that in the event of secondary mutations that give people wacky hair colors, these terms would exit the fandom space and become common and acceptable terms. However, “bluenette” indicates a darker hair color, and distinction would have to be made in the event that someone is looking at/writing about two strangers with different shades of blue, so I came up with

blund/e

(then my sister suggested “skynette,” which is the humor option)

13 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

If you’re here (that is, on Tumblr) from Twitter, welcome!

A couple things that might smooth your experience here:

1. If you miss the timestamps from Twitter, there’s an option to turn them on in Settings. If you don’t like how that looks, you can check the time a post was reblogged or posted by viewing it in the poster’s blog and clicking on the three dots in the upper-right corner.

2. Tumblr Savior is your friend! It’s a browser plugin that blocks words you don’t want to see (for instance, I had any reference to LOTR muted for a minute because I was tired of the salt about the amazon show).

3. Choose a profile picture and put something in your bio to look like a human, not a bot. Relatedly, liking things doesn’t boost them like it does on Twitter--reblog to show artists/writers/whoever love!

4. There’s a bunch of really old posts that are still circulating. If you see one that says “do you like the color of the sky,” prepare for some scrolling. These posts are met with exasperation and fondness in equal measure.

5. There are certain unofficial holidays started by said old posts that are observed, such as the Great Molasses Flood and November 5th, 2020. Homestuck Day shares a holiday with a picture of a rat next to a xylophone called “Neil banging out the tunes.” Though perhaps it’s inversed, because Neil is three years older.

6. It’s easier to curate your experience here, especially if you don’t go looking through the trending, because aside from Blaze posts and “based on your likes” everything on your dashboard comes from your mutuals.

Welcome to the hellsite, and I hope you enjoy your stay!

20 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

PSA for people who have photosensitivity

The reblog chain feature is back when you click on the notes button on dashboard!

HOWEVER.

Not only is it barely functional as of May 3rd 2022, it flashes very fast and very bright to very dark.

I’m not too bothered by it, but people with photosensitivity might be, so I figured I’d spread the word.

128 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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deeppeacekoala · 1 year

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How To Handle Every Dating Challenge With Ease Using These Tips

We mentioned how one of the things that the internet has made better about dating is that it exposes us to more people, giving us more choices about who we can date. We both got better at cooking. I am trying to change them into someone slightly better at picking up their socks. Or, maybe you're a super shy and quiet person who wants to date someone that can help you feel more confident. Maybe this type of partner makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, or maybe they challenge you more than a difficult game of Sudoku. I usually feel the moment out. No one is out of my league! He, too, likes that his dating profile on The League looks more professional and that he is able to connect with other hard-working people his age. “Now for first time, you can rate others profile and photo’s and through this it shows the popularity of others. No matter how authentic their profile looks or how convincing their words are, you should be on the lookout for danger. It can't be described in words. Yes, but we don't get to do it much. I very much doubt it.

Other dating apps are connecting people far apart as quarantine pen-pals. Meet people in our online dating community and receive advice from our relationship experts. But according to relationship expert and dating adviser Jeffery L. Miller, it should be. But dating these days can be stressful AF. She is not just a pretty face, she is someone Scott sees he can face life with. Would you rather date someone who is funny or intelligent? This kind of person is considered a perfect 10 who has brains, charisma and an outgoing personality. No, they are perfect. A funny person, or a comedian, would be perfect because they'll make you laugh and smile when you're feeling down (bonus: they may also teach you a few funny jokes)! We are willing to work hard to make you money with our online dating software. I can make a few exceptions. Dare your online date to answer a few questions about himself or herself.

A few dozen in regular use. נערות ליווי בקריות Step 4 must be ignored if the Easter Sunday date calculated after step 3 occurred when the Julian calendar was still in use. In spite of this, differences still occur within the church. Today, modern speed dating is still rooted in shidduch, but with formal dating services replacing the role of the Rabbi and his wife as matchmakers. However, if you’ve noticed that you haven’t met any of their crew and that this person tends to avoid the topic whenever possible, you’re likely not yet at the dating phase. However, the amount of stable (non-radioactive) carbon remains the same. I'm the same but they got even more beautiful! We're like slightly frayed versions of the same thing. No, I like monogamy. No, only my boo. I don't know, my boo is the only person whose calls I take. So before you take our relationship quiz, let's talk about some of the most popular "types" of people to date! So if you're curious about what your ideal partner is like, then it's time to take our romantic quiz! Whether you're currently single, married or part of the "it's complicated" club, we all have an ideal partner that is suitable for our personalities.

We used to have more, but we have whittled them down now to a couple. More relieved than proud right now. Tap these strategies to attract the right users and really click with them. 7% of cell phone apps users (representing 3% of all adults) say that they have used a dating app on their cell phone. You can set "Date Filters" to determine age and location ranges, as well as whether you want to see men, women, or everyone (there's no specific option for non-binary or trans users). Also, let a friend or family know that you are meeting a new person for a date and let them know the location. They keep showing up so I know they love me. Only the kids, but we keep meaning to go out. If one were to assume that a good-fitting isochron implies a reliable result, one would be correct approximately nine times out of ten. This may totally blow your mind, but there was a time (and not all that long ago) when you didn't get called out as "thirsty" just for wanting to be around another human being. Your support will help establish resources for students and teachers, and further a deeper understanding of human origins.

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versnice · 2 years

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November 17, 2021

It all began with a simple thought: I should start a blog, lol.

And I did. Just now.

And even as I am typing this down, I realize that I do not have any 'plans' as such for the direction this blog is going to take. I guess I just wanted to write -- have my thoughts solidified into words on a webpage for the whole world to see (if my brain would so kindly offer me tangible and fluent sentences to write down). And this is the first of (hopefully) many pages I will continue to impress upon the digital pages of this blog.

What shall I start with? My most deepest, darkest secrets? Not a chance!

...ahem.

However, I think I can start with the most consistent thought in my mind -- the permanence of Death. By capitalizing the 'D', I personify the concept of death as an ever-looming figure in the lives of every single thing in the universe. Perhaps inorganic objects do not experience death in the same way us living entities do, but they too face the inevitable extinction from the memories of things that once were; tiny evidences left for researchers to uncover and relish in, but never quite fully grasp. I don't know. Death is impartial -- it is sometimes unfair and at times, unwelcomed -- but it is always impartial. Nothing can quite escape its clutches, and no one can truly know what lies beyond its first embrace.

I used to think heaven and hell were above the sky and below the ground, respectively. When I learned of the wonders of space, I began to think heaven and hell were different planets, located somewhere in the universe, that people who died were reincarnated into different life forms that may seem bizarre to us on Earth. Yes, I was an avid Buddhist, born into a Buddhist family in a Buddhist country, praying most nights for the peace and wellbeing of all sentient beings. It seems like such a distant memory, those night spent with eyes closed, hands in a prayer, wishing the world to be just a little bit better for everyone. I still want the world to be better for everyone, but I no longer pray for it.

I cannot quite place the moment my faith in innocent prayers and all-knowing gods dissipated, but I do know I was adamant never to pray again, never to find solace in the existence of a loving god. Even when I was afraid and needed a prayer to feel alright, I fought against the dependence on those whispered words. I no longer need to fight. Now, fear permeates through my very being with an intensity unshielded by divine protection, and every time it does, I know with every cell in my body that I am very much mortal. Mortal and weak. Death stalks me, as it stalks every single thing in every conceivable universe. And I am grateful for it. Being perpetually aware of my mortal existence gives me an understanding that everyone is mortal, that everyone will one day perish, and nothing can stop it. The understanding that every being in this world is connected by this one trait of being mortal has seeded into me this moral and ethical strength 'faith' could never provide me. Of course, my morality has been derived from the basics of Buddhism, but it isn't enforced with the fear of going to hell or of divine retribution or by the constant need to always be 'good'. It is enforced with a conviction that I must be neutral, and good if I have to choose an alignment, because everyone else would like the same respect, the same kindness, and the same treatment as I would like. Everyone is equal.

The concept of the afterlife is quite a fascinating one: the thought that one day I will die and my 'spirit' will exit my body, only to be judged of my actions 49 days later. One good deed merits a white stone, while a bad deed a black stone. On the 49th day, the deities will convene to weigh the white stones against the black, and the heavier set will determine either my stairway to heaven or my highway to hell (sorry I couldn't help it). Of course, this is just what I have heard and know of the Buddhist afterlife. No meticulous research has been conducted. I have one theory about the 'spirit realm' but I need mathematical expertise (which I, unfortunately, do not possess) which just might be able to prove its existence (much to my dismay, I'm going straight to hell). But than again, theories are theories, and I am just an average person with an average brain that hasn't touched mathematics in quite a while.

I guess this is it for my first page? A page full of nondescript rants and wonky grammar. I just hope no one can trace this blog to my original being, lol. I'll have a lot of explaining to do to a lot of people.

Have a great day, and take care.

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seoafin · 2 years

Note

Hello!!

I'm back again, also I'm sorry if I ended up clogging up your notifications because I think I just went through your entire 'gojo satoru x reader' tag cuz I'm just so in love with your writing! 💗💗

That one post about Gojou interrupting all your dates, and being completely obnoxious about it was soo funny, pls he's so ridiculous, but also its cute that he panics over just the notion of any man taking reader away from him, its always so funny (and kinda sad asghsiag) to me because Gojou overall is a very intelligent man, but then when it comes to emotions and feelings, he like loses all his brain cells LOL, and can be very round about and avoidant too (at least imo!)

Also that post about Gojou taking reader's v-card was sooo ADALKANGBFD your characterization was so on point because he would be all jokey and lighthearted about it but in the actual moment, he'd be sooo focused on reader's pleasure and also their comfort, and just being all praises and sweet words that are also so filthy that your brain just goes numb, I think just the knowledge of knowing that he is the first one (and hopefully the only one lol) that get's to be the one to see reader unravel and become undone like this just itches a certain itch in his heart, I'm so sure that after this he would become even more touchy and insatiable for reader's touch and attention, and affection, he'd be more possessive too, he makes me so *sighs dreamily* 🥺

Ahh also that wet shirt drabble(?) was soo good, and also soo like shoujo-esque (if I may makeup a word lol), but it fits him so well, joking about finding your bra boring, while every nerve in his brain just fuses and his heart is like five seconds away from combusting, and then giving you his jacket (not just to save you from embarrassment, but also cuz no one else can see you like that, and it also makes him so flustered), he's so ASKHSDUIFBHFD

And the breeding kink posts!!!! I'm screaming, pls I love Gojou and breeding kink so much, its so just *screams* (especially during that time of the month my brain is just like *gojou and breeding kink* 24/7 its borderline embarrassing LMAO) I think it just fits him so well, he's so possessive and obsessive, and lovesick, and touch starved (and love starved imo he's a very lonely and sad guy 😭) that there is no way that he doesn't want to have like an army of children with the reader, and I just know he would treat getting the reader pregnant like some life and death mission, he'd be so determined about the whole thing, just round after round until your inside are filled with his cum, and making sure that you don't waste any of his precious cum, he definitely has an app to follow reader's ovulation periods and such, he's so insane and lovesick fr 💗

Also! I thought I'd share some dad gojou fanart that I made the other day 🥺 (altho! no pressure to like or anything, I just though I'd share!) https://ame-791.tumblr.com/post/681386471584858112/ame-791-love-how-generally-most-of-us-believe

Oh! I just saw that tag about Gojou making a pun about fishermen and curse users in the HI arc, and I would love to hear more about it! I never saw it in the translation! (pls I wish the manga was better translated so non-Japanese speakers could better understand the wonderful work that is JJK 😭)

Anyways, sorry this ask got so freakishly long, I just wanted to drop by and tell you that I really appreciate all your Gojou stuff, and I hope that you continue to bless us with your amazing writing!! 🥺💗💗

hiii friend!!!! yes!!! i definitely think gojo short circuits when he gets flustered but manages to play it off bc rip!mc is just oblivious and doesn't really get it. i think gojo's a very introspective character but when it comes actually outwardly expressing his feelings things get lost (and that's being generous he was probably a tsundere in hs and i STAND by that 😭)

gojo would be extra touchy and clingy and kinda unbearable but i think people like him that way lmfao

also im so glad u brought up it being shoujo-esque because I DID intentionally make things shoujo-esque bc the potential is wayyy too underrated i think there should be more shoujo moments. they're highschoolers when else can i make things excruciatingly shoujo-esque!!!

as for the pun it's when gojo's talking geto into staying a little longer (so riko can play) and talks about how there are less 'fishy' (roughly translated??) curse users in okinawa than tokyo. and he makes a pun by combining the word 海人 (uminchu = fisherman) and curse user 呪詛師 (jujoshi) into 呪詛人 (jusonchu) which is basically gojo making a joke abt fisherman and curse users lmao but i guess that wouldn't really make sense translated but they could've just used 'fishy' which is the most straight forward translation you'll get (BUT THEY DIDN'T!!)

#also uminchu is the okinawan word which makes sense considering i didn't recognize it at first and had to look it up #yes yes shoujo will always have a special place in my heart no matter how bad it can be im sorry #'he's so insane and lovesick' THOSE ARE THE VIBES #he doesn't even need the app.....#PLEASE NEVER APOLOGIE FOR SENDING LONG MESSAGES IM GOING CRAZY FERAL OVER EVERYTHING U SAID FR #gojo's breeding kink > gojo #that probably doesn't make sense but it does. to me.#UR DRAWING IS SO CUTE IM GOING TO PUNCH A WALL #gojo doesn't have rights but when he does it goes to dad gojo....wow IM SO SOFT #thank U for sharing ur art it's gorgeous he would be so whipped for his children. insanity.#ame-791 #.fb

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