#and (and this is 100% my brain diseases) but even the eyes cut out of frame make this feel very Close and Physical. right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steve0discusses · 3 years

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Yugioh S5 Ep 21: Joey Takes A Snack at that Cray Sauce

Hey guys! The 17 yo cat with kidney disease I was out of town watching lived to see another week (she was a very good girl). Which means now I can get back to the good stuff. This episode is brought to you by the colors red and orange, and I hope you like this color, and I hope you like this after effects they CGId onto this volcano.

Anyways, they first have to do this familiar ledge fall, because, it’s Yugioh, and if there’s a bunch of lava, Tristan wants

that.

And then Joey decides...hey you know what? I’m gonna jet. And...it’s not the first time he’s pulled a wild card and been unpredictable, I mean none of us can really forget that time he decided to get murdered by Mai instead of going in a straight line towards the end boss last season, but this time it was kind of funny how it was hastily composed.

And off he goes, folks.

As he left, Tristan was like “Ya dummy!” and Tea was like “nono, we gotta encourage him--run Joey! You can do it! See? Now he’s gone.” and it’s like...Tea is either trying to kill Joey with her support or honestly thinks that’s good support and I can’t fully tell which she is.

(read more under the cut)

It’s at this point that Grandpa has the gall to say “Did any of you happen to catch the lore? I fell asleep during that part.” Just like my Dad when we watch any movie as a family.

Meanwhile, maybe 100 ft away from them, Joey is in mortal peril but it’s Joey, so he’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.

In fact, this episode seems like it would have been a better arc if it stretched out more episodes because the Joey neglect happens so quickly and out of nowhere that it’s...less organic than your average children’s show. Honestly it’s kind of funny how fast the fall of Joey Wheeler happens this episode. And I think it could have been a fun interesting time if it was handled better but youknow...it’s crammed into one single episode and you’ll se what happens.

As Yugi ruminates a cool thing that would have been really interesting this season--like running into more rando’s from other periods of time than just Alexander--Tea looks across the lava highway and was like “found it.”

Back at the dragon situation, Joey starts opening his heart to this dragon and it’s like...did they originally intend for Seto Kaiba to be here? Because I guess Joey uses Red Eyes a lot, but I also skip a lot of the card games, so when I think “who likes the dragon card?” Joey is not the first one I think of.

That and like he got over his Atlantis dragon card like hella fast, right? Like totally already over that?

And also if you thought Joey would pull out his other dragon to try and communicate or get a hold of this dragon like...nah.

Back at the fort, these guys decided to ditch Joey to get to this sword at the top of a volcano to solve the riddle, and what follows is some weird ass canon.

As I’m pulling up my Google Doc with my deathcount on it, Tristan decides this is the time he won’t freakin die and turn into a robot monkey for 15 episodes.

And he makes a huge ass green dragon. You’d think this MASSIVE dragon would do more in this episode, but nah. Although he pulls out Massive Dragon, it’s like kind of worthless, so he mostly puts it back in his pocket.

And then Tea pulls this elf chick out and it’s freakin hilarious because look at her giant elf.

Like Tea is not a small person! Are Yugioh monsters all 12 ft tall???

Yugi is also all ham about fusing with his dude now. It knocked him out a couple episodes ago, but Yugi is so keen on destroying his body that he’s back in clown town. And like...took his Grandpa for a ride, I guess, although I’m pretty sure Summoned Skull has wings.

Course, Summoned Skulls insides are his outsides...and I dunno if you’d want Summoned Skull to give you a big hug and carry you around. Summoned Skull just seems like he’s sticky.

And, once they make it to the top of the volcano where the plot sword lives, we first have to visit this plot twist of the century.

YEAH.

OUT OF NOWHERE.

THIS EPISODE IS NOT LONG.

Aaaaaaand now Joey is going to try and kill everyone here. I did not skip anything, PS, Joey dipped off-screen.

PS, everyone’s reaction to “I will kill you!” was a whole lot of rolling their eyes at first being like “Joey, stawp.”

So, now that Joey’s randomly possessed by this dragon, we get a peek into what Joey’s brain zone looks like. It’s a whole lot of nothing in between his ears.

Consistent to S1 actually, when we had a bit of a Joey Brain Zone moment. It was a blank void there, too.

So apparently Joey decided, back when he was confessing his love to Red Eyes Black Dragon, that he would jump on it’s back to calm it down--and it just...fused with him. So...now he’s a dragon.

Sure, I guess. I mean...there’s really no limit on what a Duel monster can’t do, so I’ll allow it.

The team tries to just say “ah screw it” and pull up this sword themselves (you can kind of see it in this shot) and the sword just slurps into the dirt even more out of spite. Seeing that there’s a bit of a time limit, Grandpa pulls this one out of his back pocket.

Yo, Grandpa’s not even possessed. Hey, remember that time that Grandpa nearly died giving Arthur Hawkins the last of his water back in Egypt? Remember that?

Like uh, you can definitely tell this was made by a different team that may not have gotten that cue card. It may have been lost in the mail. Either way, kind of a hilarious heel turn on Grandpa’s personality here, although it does make logical sense to save most of the kids from sacrificing one kid. It’s just...that kid is Joey...so...that’s like his adopted Grandson, right?

So Yugi does something very on brand for Yugi and invades a brain.

And like...obviously Yami and Yugi would say no to this. They would never do this. Not after all the dozens and dozens of times they have sacrificed the world and everything for their best friends.

But...maybe just this one time we can kill Joey? As a treat?

So uh...Yami hella vaporizes Joey with his new powers. Luckily, Joey Wheeler has Shaggy Doo energy and just...he survives it for some reason. I don’t know why he isn’t dead, maybe because the dragon made him stronger? Eh, don’t do the math (on any part of this episode).

So Joey gets up and is like “I know the answer to the riddle!” As the sword kinda melts into the volcano and Gramps is like “Well we’re dead, actually, so no one cares!”

And Joey’s like “Look!” and he hops onto the back of the Red Eyes Black dragon and reveals this random thing:

Because it turns out, that the dragon was the real problem and not this volcano with a sword in it.

Which youknow...could have been cool if this episode wasn’t so many insane plot points so quickly. Kind of a lot of episode here. This episode could have been a whole season of a show.

Like how long was Joey Possessed by Marik in S2? Like 5 or 6 episodes? And you can see how much more successful it was at selling the story although it was a lot of the same themes and ideas. Pacing is important.

And then Joey passes out from the suit juice.

Which is when we get one more Alexander cameo, just kinda watching them leave and onto the next arc of their little journey.

They sure did put a lot of eyeliner on Alexander the great, and, being real...he may have actually been wearing a hell ton of dope eyeliner when he was alive, so this could be historically accurate, for all we know. Those old marble statues used to be painted, after all. Maybe they had dope Yugioh eyeliner down to his cheekbones? One can wish.

And like if you ever get the time--seeing what those marble statues looked like with paint on it is so freakin goofy and fun, I love it. I love that for 600 years we thought those marble statues were supposed to be naked and white but it’s like, nah man--this guy’s just wearing a skin tight breast plate and when you paint it, it’s so garish it’s like a freakin clown outfit.

But anyway, that’s all for now! Hope y’all have a good weekend, and as always, here’s a link to read these in chrono order, if you just got here!

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#Yugioh #YGO #Yu-Gi-Oh #S5 #Ep 21 #Yugi muto #Joey Wheeler #Tristan Taylor #Joey Wheeler goes evil again #Red Eyes Black Dragon #Is an asshole apparently #Tea Gardner #Grandpa Muto #A lot of orange lava #This show is so obsessed with orange #Alexander the Great #who I can't believe is canon to Yugioh lol #Episode recap #Photo recap

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drprettyboyspence · 4 years

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Memory Lane

Dr. Spencer Reid/reader

Summary: Reader just can't seem to get to sleep one night so she decides to walk around the house she shares with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid. As she travels around the house she remembers significant moments in their relationship.

words: 2.9k

warnings: season 12 spoilers, mentioning of mental illness, nothing else to my knowledge! (just a lot of fluff)

a/n: This is my first Spencer Reid fic and I kinda went off the rails with the word count, let me know if you enjoy it :)

I turn myself over in bed for what feels like the four hundredth time this hour, facing the ceiling now. I can hear the rustling of leaves outside and the distant sirens of the city, remembering how those sounds used to bring me some sort of comfort as a child, now all I can think of is the death and tragedy being an FBI profiler has brought me into contact with, the horrors at the end of the trail of sirens. Mostly noticeably though, I hear the steady breathing of the man lying next to me in the king bed, glancing over at my boyfriend of almost 4 years I smile warmly, his unruly hair draped over the pillow, glad to see him in deep sleep. Recently he hasn’t been sleeping well, suffering from PTSD from his time spent in prison as well as all the trauma the poor man has been through in the last 10 years of his life. I quietly get out of bed, making sure not to bother him, he deserves a good nights sleep and we have to be at the BAU in a depressingly minuscule amount of hours. My feet hit the cold wooden floors and I wonder for the uncountable time “Why did we decide on wooden floors?” A memory of an argument with Spencer answers my question,

“Because silly, don’t you know that carpets can hold up to 200,000 bacteria per square inch, this room is 100 square feet, 144 square inches per square foot, that is 28,800,000 bacteria in our bedroom alone.” I remember shaking my head at him, he’s always been such a germaphobe. In fact, when we first met, he shook my hand, and later when I confided in JJ and Penelope that I had pretty intense feelings for the resident genius of the BAU, they mentioned that he usually hates shaking hands, is known for refusing to shake the hands of many people the team comes into contact with on cases. He shook my hand right away, it’s one of the things I love about him and we always say we knew right away that we had a special connection. I glance at Spencer’s sleeping frame one more time before leaving the bedroom and making my way down the hallway. There are pictures there, pictures of me and Spence, him and his mom, pictures of the team at work, Spencer won’t admit it often, but he wakes up every morning scared that he won’t remember those he loves, his mother’s dementia and schizophrenia have impacted him greatly. I stop in front of a picture of me and Spence, it’s the first picture we ever took together, Halloween almost 5 years ago now, at the FBI Halloween party.

October 2015

“Come on Y/n! How can you not love Halloween!”

“Spencer, what’s so great about Halloween!” I had asked laughing while filling up a plastic cup with punch. The party is fun, but all this dressing up just seems silly to me sometimes.

“It’s a uniquely American holiday! I mean, despite its obvious origins in the Celtic festival of Samhain and the Christian All Saints’ Day, it really is a melting pot of various immigrants’ traditions and beliefs. It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treat, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity!” I catch JJ’s eyes from across the room, she gives me a sympathetic look as I’m stuck in another of Reid’s constant statistics rants. Frankly, I don’t understand how the rest of the team can cut Reid off when he’s like this. He’s so genuinely excited by this holiday it makes my budding feelings for the man standing in front of me even stronger.

“Aw you guys look so cute! Say cheese!” the always-hyper voice of Penelope Garcia shouts from across the bullpen, snapping a quick picture of me and Spence before running after Derek. I glance down at my phone and see a text from Penelope “It doesn’t take a profiler to realize how gone you are for him Y/n” I blush profusely before continuing my conversation with Spencer.

Present day

Tearing my eyes away from that specific picture, I continue walking to the end of the hallway, painfully aware that the floorboards are squeaking with my every step, hoping Spencer’s just-finished-a-case level of exhaustion will prevent him from waking up. I pass the threshold into the kitchen and see the dim light of the clock over the stove, the red 2:15 blinking back at me through my tired eyes, I just can’t seem to get to sleep tonight, I’m sure Spencer would say something like

“Chronic insomnia is usually tied to an underlying mental or physical issue. Anxiety, stress, and depression are some of the most common causes of chronic insomnia but even if you do not suffer from chronic insomnia, 35% of Americans report their sleep quality as poor or only fair.” Dating a living encyclopedia definitely has its perks I suppose. I walk towards the fridge and glance at the refrigerator, my eyes traveling to a postcard held up by a doctor who magnet. Houston, Texas the postcard reads.

February 2017

Me and Spencer had been dating for less than 6 months but as we had known each other for over a year I was falling head over heels in love with him. The last few months hadn’t been easy, Spencer learned that his mother had been diagnosed with dementia and not a day had gone by where he didn’t try and find a cure, he had been traveling to Houston,Texas to talk with his mother’s doctor, he then brought her to live with him in Virginia, it had been difficult to say the least. My fingers traced the edges of the postcard I had received in the mail this morning, then flipped it over and saw Spencer’s familiar scraggly handwriting, it read

Dear Y/n,

I was able to speak with my mother’s doctors today, I feel as though there must be more I can be doing, she seems to be responding to the medicines but I am looking into new methods of treating the disease. I miss you so much Y/n, and I miss the rest of the team as well, tell them I will be back as soon as I can, I hate the thought of you putting yourself in danger on cases without me there, not because I doubt your ability to protect yourself, but because I doubt my ability to handle being 1,402 miles away from you. Please do not worry about me, if you’re anxiously awaiting my return, stop looking at the clock because remember, when looking at a clock our brains anticipate what we’ll see faster than we actually see it, so the clock seems to stop, Ill be back before you know it Y/n.

With all my love, Spencer Reid.

I giggle quietly at the added facts, only Spencer would describe the phenomenon of a clock appearing stopped when glanced out. I’m concerned about Spencer though, I’m not sure what is going on, but there is definitely something not right with him and if I didn’t trust him so much I would consider asking Garcia to do a background check to check the legitimacy of his travels to Houston.

Present Day

This postcard is extremely bittersweet, the next week we were all rushing to Mexico, responding to a call that Spencer was in jail, I was a nervous wreck, we all were, it was an extremely rough 6 months, truly showing me how strong the man I love is. I push some of those harsh memories out of my brain, choosing to focus on the happy memories if I ever want to fall asleep tonight. There’s a coffee machine next to the fridge, if there’s one thing Spencer loves more than me, its coffee, or rather coffee flavored sugar with the amount of sweetener he puts in his cup every day. Spencer smells like coffee, almost always, he struggles to sleep most nights and therefore is always hyped up on caffeine. It's actually played a huge role in our relationship.

August 2016

Dr. Spencer Reid and I are walking to the BAU together as we do every single day, we live close to each other, close enough that he walks about 5 minutes before arriving at my house, we then walk to the coffee shop on the way to the train station. We’re best friends, but I’ve been secretly in love with him for months. Walking into Quantico, we get the daily glances from Penelope, Derek, and JJ who are sitting together looking at pictures of Henry. Penelope always teases me that we’re both so in love with each other that everyone can see it but us, it’s ironic actually. As much as I don’t believe Pen, I have been noticing small changes in Spence’s behavior the last couple months, prompting me to, in the deepest corners of my mind, hope that maybe he feels the same way, our friendship is worth too much to risk him not feeling the same way though, so I’m forever stuck. We aren’t on a case right now, so there’s a lot of paperwork to be done, at one point during the day I get up, asking Spence if he wants another cup of coffee before walking to the break room. I return after a brief 5 minutes and am surprised to see Derek sitting in my seat, arguing with Spencer.

“Come on Pretty boy! We both know you’re in love with her! Just ask her out man, she’ll say yes!”

“Morgan, quiet down, she’ll be back any minute, besides I’m 35 and Y/n is 32, I’m not saying there would even be a chance that we would get married but the marriage success rate in the United States is only 50%, the worst it has ever been, that therefore shows the state of relationships in the country as well, I don’t want to ruin our friendship, I could never lose her. Besides, I’ve never been good with women.”

“But that’s the thing pretty boy, you don’t have to be good with women, you’re already good with Y/n, she’s the one who matters, just ask her out man, you’ll regret it if you don’t.” With that Morgan walks away and I take a deep breath, its now or never, walking over to Spencer and setting down the cup, whispering in his ear,

“You never know how good with women you are until you try, Spence” He looks up at me with wide eyes and licks his tongue across his lips, something he does often.

“Um, Y/n, y-you heard all of that?” I nod and I can see Spence take a deep breath just as I did before walking over, “W-would you like to um- go to dinner with me Y/n?”

“Hmm I don’t know…” Spencer’s face starts to fall as I quickly continue “Of course I would love to go to dinner with you silly, what did you think?” His smile lights up the entire room as he pulls me into a deep hug.

“Well finally you two. You couldn’t have waited just a few more months though, I assumed you lovebirds wouldn’t get it together until after Spencer’s birthday” Rossi says from behind us, passing a pretty hefty stack of bills to Penelope.

That was the day that started the greatest adventure of my life.

Present Day

I leave the kitchen and walk to the living room, a chilly breeze blows my hair slightly askew, its June in Virginia, warm enough that all I’m wearing is one of Spence’s oversized MIT shirts with pajama shorts, but the night air causes slight goosebumps on my skin, sending me into my memories once again.

August 2019

Spencer and I are sitting on the couch, participating in yet another Doctor Who marathon on the tv, it's a rare day off from work and the hot summer air fills our living room even with the fan blowing through the house. I lie my head in Spencer’s lap as we watch the tv and his strong hand strokes the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to pop up all over my arms. I giggle and glance up at him causing him to pointedly look at me asking me with his eyes “What is so funny that you dare distract from Doctor Who?”

“It’s just strange, its 95 degrees outside but your hands on my neck give me goosebumps like its a crisp fall day, isn’t that funny baby?”

“Of course the most common cause of goosebumps is cold weather, but when you’re experiencing extreme emotions, the human body responds in a variety of ways. Two common responses include increased electrical activity in the muscles just under the skin and increased depth or heaviness of breathing, resulting in goosebumps.” I roll my eyes at him and playfully swat his hair out of his eyes.

“Only you, Dr. Spencer Reid, would take a romantic statement and turn it into statistics, and I love you for that” he kisses me and well, the Doctor Who marathon was quickly turned off after that.

Present Day

As I turn the corner into the living room I smile warmly, it’s the room that Spencer and I like the best. There are book cases lining the back wall, Spencer loves books, I’d ask him what made his books so special and he’d tell me stories of his childhood, his mom reading him 15th century literature, I loved when Spence told me stories about his childhood.

December 2017

I knocked on the door of Spencer’s apartment, it wasn’t like him to be late for our daily walk to work especially because he had been on probation after his time in jail. I received no answer, prompting my concern as I unlocked the door with the key he had given me. I walked into his living room and saw him, Spencer was sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by books, running his fingers up and down the pages as he does when he’s reading at his top speed.

“Spence what on earth are you doing! Where did all these books come from? We aren’t on a case are we?”

“This year in the United States alone there have been 328,259 new books published, I read at 20,000 words per minute but at an average of 100,000 words per book, it would take me 27,377 hours to read all those books!”

“Oh Spencer how I love you, you don’t need to read every book ever published, are you going to start reading romance novels?” I tease while picking up a copy of 50 Shades of Gray from the ground at Spencer’s feet.

“Okay maybe you’re right, I just feel like I missed so much time when I was incarcerated, all that reading I could’ve done when I was trapped in that place, it's time I can never get back.”

“Spencer, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you, but this is not going to help that feeling go away, let’s go to work.” Spencer nodded and began to tidy up the floor before following me out the door.

“Wait, Y/n, I have to ask you something that I’ve meant to say since I’ve gotten out of jail, and I might as well say it now, will you move in with me?” He’s chewing on his bottom lip again and I jump into his arms in excitement, kissing his hair as he caresses the back of my head.

“Of course I’ll move in with you! I love you, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“And I love you Y/n Y/l/n.”

Present Day

I’m coming around to the opposite side of the living room now, sitting down on the couch in front of the fireplace. I love the fireplace in our house and I think secretly Spencer does too. We argued for days over the safety of having a fireplace in our house, Spencer of course supplied with enough knowledge of house fires to last him 5 lifetimes, “But Spencer it’ll be so cozy, doesn’t it sound romantic to cuddle up by the fire?” I had pleaded with him the day we toured the house for the first time.

“Y/n, there were an average of 357,400 residential fires per year in the US between 2012 and 2014, an average of 22,300 of those fires were caused by a fireplace or chimney!”

“But Spenceee, that’s only 6.24% of the residential house fires during that period, 43.9% were from cooking equipment, are you going to forbid us from having a kitchen too?” Hey, don’t underestimate how useful a cellphone calculator and a quick google search can be in winning an argument against your genius boyfriend. Obviously, we had ended up agreeing on the fireplace, but Spencer was still overly cautious whenever it was in use. As I stood in front of the fireplace I became hyper aware of the floorboards creaking in the hallway just as they had done when I left the room earlier, I felt a presence enter the room and the 6’1” frame of my boyfriend wrapped his long arms around me from behind while burying his face in the hollow of my shoulder.

“Hi, baby, what are you doing up so late? Are you feeling okay? Can’t seem to get to sleep?” I nod back at him and recline my head so it rests on his strong chest.

“I was just taking a trip down memory lane I suppose” I say before smiling up at the love of my life.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reader insert

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

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maybe? 👉👈 steve taking a really long time with college (like on one year and off one yours year, on, off, on, off) and he still doesn't really know what he wants to do and he gets really frustrated bc billy just did college all in one go and steve is taking forever and he feels down on himself? idk im feeling the whump rn???

Steve had left high school having no idea what he wanted from the rest of his life.

That’s not true, he had some idea.

He knew he wanted to leave Hawkins, follow Billy wherever he was going. He knew he wanted to be with Billy for the rest of his life, he knew he wanted to leave the past behind and make new friends, people who were kind, and fun, and didn’t bat an eye when Billy pulled him into his lap.

But that’s about it.

So when Billy graduates high school, and gets a full ride to UC Berkeley, and they move into a cheap apartment in downtown Oakland, Steve is so happy that he got out.

He gets a job waiting tables at a restaurant down the street, pays half the rent and buys the groceries while Billy’s in class.

But then two years pass, and Billy’s soaring through college, working to his degrees, plural, because he just couldn’t decide between studying English Literature or Biology with a focus in research.

So he’s majoring in both and getting a minor in Italian because then I’ll know what you’re sayin’ when you start horny babblin’.

And Steve was at the same restaurant.

True, he was assistant manager now, and it came with a pretty okay raise, and he even gets dental insurance, but he feels so stuck.

So he enrolls in community college.

He starts with some general classes, still completely unsure of what he wants to study.

Billy said it was okay to just rule out things you don’t want to study, to nearly fail a math course and know that accounting is not for you.

So when Steve finishes his first year, he at least knows what he doesn’t want to pursue.

Meanwhile Billy has an internship at a lab through Kaiser Permanente. And he can read and write Italian than Steve can.

Steve is walking home from his job at the restaurant when it happens. He’s crossing the street, and gets hit by a car.

He’s taken to the hospital, where he’s informed of a fractured spine and another concussion.

He’s told his injury could’ve been much more severe, that he will not experience paralysis, but he needs physical therapy and walking will be difficult for a while.

Their finances take a big hit.

Billy’s internship doesn’t pay super well, and with Steve being unable to work for the foreseeable future, he’s fired.

Billy has insurance through the school, but because on paper, he and Steve have no real relation, Steve’s medical bills come out of pocket.

So Steve is bedridden for months. He can’t work or get groceries, or do fucking anything but lay there.

They can’t afford physical therapy.

But Billy has a friend studying to be a PT, and she comes over every Saturday, and practices her technique on him in exchange for ten bucks and a few beers.

And so the money Steve tucked away for school is rapidly diminishing.

By the time Billy graduates, Steve is a year into recovery. He still gets dizzy at odd intervals, and his back gets stiff when it rains, but Billy gets a job right away, doing research on flu vaccines.

And Steve goes back to work.

He gets a desk job, something he won’t have to be on his feet all day for. He works reception for a message therapist, which comes with free massages, which work wonders on his back.

So in the fall, he decides to give his education another shot.

He learns that history is not for him, and that his nutrition course was fine until they began looking into how the body processes nutrients, and he was fucking lost. He takes a few business classes, thinking, hoping genetics would take over and this is something he could do.

But his dad was right to take away the job opportunity at his own firm. Steve was not cut out for this.

After a year of research, Billy is promoted three times. He ends up working on some extremely important study that Steve does not understand for the fucking life of him.

But he sits and listens every time Billy explains what he did that day, even though Steve gets so sad when Billy mentions having to kill the lab mice to study their bodies.

So Steve is two years into community college, five years into living in Oakland with Billy, and he still is lost.

He takes a semester off, working more hours, trying to save up some money.

Because Billy is beginning to think about grad school, and that shit’s not cheap.

But Billy decides to postpone that, work for a few more years, and besides, he’s caught between studying something to put him in a research field, or just straight up going to medical school to study infectious disease.

Because Billy could. He’s smart enough for medical school, smart enough to research and be a doctor.

And Steve has a smushy spine and half a degree in nothing.

A semester off turns into a year.

A year and a semester.

Two years.

They’ve been in California for seven years, and Billy gets into grad school in San Diego. They move south and Billy spends late nights pursuing a Masters in Immunology.

And Steve works the front desk at a pediatrician’s office.

He’s flipping through a course catalog from the San Diego Community College when Billy comes home from his new job, the position he got after applying to only three labs.

He kissed the top of Steve’s head, moving to grab himself a beer from the fridge.

“You thinkin’ of going back?”

“I don’t know.” Steve slid the catalog closed. “Is it even worth it?”

“That’s something you have to decide.” Billy sat down, sliding the catalog towards him. Steve had crossed off the classes he had already taken, the ones he new he wouldn’t like. “And you know, going to school isn’t the only option. You could get an apprenticeship, master a trade.”

“I can’t do anything where I need to bend over for really any length of time. So that rules out plumber, and car mechanic, and anything physical like construction, or landscaping or even general contracting is right out.”

Steve could feel the old shame, the doubt and the self hatred crawling up his spine.

“I have nothing to offer. I have no discerning skills, and in seven years I’ve only made it through two years of goddamn community college, and here you are, ripping through grad school like a fourth degree is easy.”

“Stevie, you’ve got a lot to offer. We just gotta find something that suits you.” He took Steve’s pen, turning to the back page of the catalog. “Okay, we’re gonna write down all of you strengths, and think of career paths that could fit those. I’ll go first, you’re extremely caring. You’d be good at any career where you care for people.”

“But I can’t study nursing or something, I barely understood my biology 101 course. Plus, nurses are strong. I can’t lift more than like, thirty pounds.”

“There’re way more caring fields than nursing, Pretty Boy. Although I would love if you were my nurse.” Billy smirked at him, leaning in to plant a sloppy kiss to Steve’s cheek as he rolled his eyes. “Another strength: your emotional intelligence is through the fucking roof.” He wrote it down. “Okay, I’ve said tow, so you say one.”

“Um, I think that I’m good at making people laugh?”

“Yes! You are. Perfect.” Billy scribbled it down. “You’re a good leader.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.” Billy wrote Intuitive, can smell a douchebag from a mile away.

“You’re good under pressure.”

“Sometimes.”

“Every time I’ve seen. You’re good at keeping calm and keeping others calm.”

“I guess.”

“Nah, Stevie. Positives only. Say a strength.”

“I’m, uh, I’m good at, bilingual?” Billy stared at him. “Like, I’m bilingual.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think that was English, even.” Steve slapped his chest, Billy laughed. “I’m joking. You are bilingual. You’re also really good at making others feel safe.”

“I was always pretty alright at public speaking.”

“You’ve got a great eye for detail.”

“I’m good at teamwork, and delegating.”

“You’re really compassionate, too.” Billy drew a line under the strengths side. “Okay, so now we’ve got some of your strengths, think about what you’d want in a job, and we can match everything up and think about some careers that could fit.” Steve nodded, racking his brain.

“Um, I would want to work with kind people, I would kind of like to do something, you know, worthwhile. I’d like to be in charge of something. Like it’s fine if I have a boss to answer to, but I’d like to be fairly independent.”

“I already have so many ideas.”

“Lay ‘em on me.” Steve sat back, closing his eyes to try and picture everything Billy threw out.

“I’ve actually always thought you’d be a really good teacher. Especially if you did like, kindergarten. Just got to be around little kids all day.” Steve could actually see it. “I also think you’d be a could social worker, like to work with Child Protective Services, or something. Um, you’d be good at even planning. Or I think you’d be really good working at a nonprofit of some kind. Maybe you could be the event planner for a nonprofit.”

And Steve was sitting there, and suddenly, he had four career paths, just sitting right in front of him. Four super attainable career paths.

“Wait, wait those make sense.” Billy beamed at him.

“Yeah, that’s because I know you, Pretty Boy.” Billy opened the catalog. “So, I think if you choose to enroll, you should pick a few classes, like, Intro to Social Work, Early Childhood Education 100, and maybe like, Sociology, and see from there.”

Steve stared at the course descriptions for what Billy circled.

“Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry this has taken me so long.”

“It’s okay. Everyone is on a different timeline. And it’s not like you got to explore options in high school. You were told business until your dad decided that nevermind. So it’s understandable that this took you a minute. Plus, you went through hell with your back.”

Steve sat up straight, stretching out his back.

“But, I mean, the back thing kinda happened to you too, and you still made it through all your schooling.”

“Sure, I watched you go through it, but I was not in the pain you were. And like, emotionally, it fucking sucked to watch the love of my goddamn life go through something, and I couldn’t even afford therapy. Like, I felt so helpless, but that’s nothing to what you went through literally experiencing it.” Steve took Billy’s hand, linking their fingers together, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“You did the best you could. Everything was shit for like, that whole year.”

“I cannot telly you how many times I would go into an individual study room in the library and just like, sob for a while.And then I’d get so mad at myself, thinking of you at home, hurting and not even able to get yourself out of bed, and I’d race home feeling like shit.”

Steve scrubbed his fingers through Billy’s hair. He had cut it a while ago, kept it short these days.

“You were doing everything you could for me. I would just sit in bed all day, and think about how amazing you are. Like I would just think about all the good times we’ve had together, and how much I love you.”

“That explains why we didn’t fight for like, that whole year.” Steve laughed. Billy leaned to kiss him softly.

“And you know, even now we’ve done this, there’s still no rush on you. You don’t have to go back to school this year, of this decade, or anytime until you’re ready. Until you want to.”

“Well now, I feel like there’s a fucking light at the end of the tunnel. I’m almost, excited. Is this how you feel? Excited to go to school?”

“Welcome to the nerd life, Sweet Thing.” Billy drained the last of his beer. “You wanna go out tonight? Celebrate?”

“Like, go out to dinner, or go out?”

“Oh, just like dinner. Be home by eight thirty, in bed by nine, missionary with the lights off, and asleep by nine fifteen.”

“Sign me the fuck up.”

#billy is based a lot on my sister in this #and steve is based on her best friend #any life path is valid #there's kind of a lot of set up but yeah #also i live for them settling down and becoming a totally boring mundane couple but they're just SO HAPPY toghether that's my shit #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrive #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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brynfelan · 3 years

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“I don’t mind” with kuzuhina if you’re up for it! 👀

👀 you know it’s kuzuhina brainrot hours up in here.

-non!despair AU because I’m already putting my boys through so much in WCN. Let’s just pretend that Junko got yeeted, or was never Ultimate Despair or something, because I’m too tired to come up with a plot reason as to why all that shit never happened. -in this specific version of no despair, hajime went through with the kamakura project, but his parents ended up finding out everything and threatened to completely ruin hope’s peak’s reputation by coming out with it publicly if they didn’t get their kid back (oddly enough, just after he’d gotten luck. Funny how that works out huh?) -it was haime’s choice to join the main course, mostly because he wanted to apologise to chiaki for disappearing for like two months. -tl;dr, hajime is still hajime just with a few random talents thrown in for good measure

Impossible thing 1: Hajime Hinata was an ex-Reserve Course student that had found himself as a second-year in the Main course.

Everybody was told that he would have joined in their first year, but that he got sick and needed to recover from surgery. While not technically a full lie, that certainly didn’t encompass the whole truth. Chiaki didn’t believe that was the end for a second, since she’d known him before. That afternoon had consisted of an incredibly awkward Hajime explaining that he maybe-sorta-kinda underwent some pretty drastic neurological surgery to artificially implant talent into him to act as the Ultimate Hope, but that his parents had stopped it before it went too far and that’s why he’d disappeared off the face of the Earth for two whole months. Whoops, sorry, I’ll never do it again, but hey now we’re classmates! Isn’t that great?

Fuyuhiko too wasn’t convinced by the story either, but he didn’t say anything at the time. Instead, he’d just made the most direct and nearly painful eye contact that Hajime had ever been on the receiving end of, just to let him know that he knew it was all bullshit.

Impossible thing 2: In the months that he’d been in the Main Course, he’d found himself becoming friends with just about everybody.

Hajime had fallen in line with his classmates surprisingly easily. Even with Fuyuhiko who was all rough edges and cursing. Actually, if he thought about it, besides Chiaki he probably got along with him the best. The two of them talked pretty often, even exchanging phone numbers and continuing to talk after classes were over. A few times, he’d gone out to the arcade with Fuyuhiko and the two of them had eaten their weight’s worth in sweets (a story he was absolutely not allowed to tell anybody else, on pain of death via Yakuza).

Outside of his friendship with Fuyuhiko, he’d become the de-facto counsellor of the class. It made sense, he was pretty sure that Ultimate Counsellor was a talent he had, but he hadn’t expected it to come up so often. Nearly everybody came to him with their problems, and he helped them figure out the right answer. He never told them what to do, just asked questions that led to an agreeable outcome. Which is pretty much what a counsellor does, so he’d taken the role in stride.

Impossible thing 3: He had the biggest, most terrifying crush on Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.

Okay, maybe that one wasn’t necessarily impossible, but it had certainly taken a few gaming sessions with Chiaki to work through. He came to realise it whilst making plans with Fuyuhiko in class, and Kazuichi had butted his head in to ask them about their “date”. Both him and Fuyuhiko had turned cherry-red, the latter spluttering out that it “wasn’t any of your fucking business, Soda” – cut to approximately three days of him having a crisis in the general direction of Chiaki while she played a new video game and talked it out with him.

After that, he’d promptly decided to die with his feelings lest he completely ruin that friendship and have to deal with it for another year in the same class as Fuyuhiko. If that happened, he would be getting a one-way ticket back into the neurologist’s office and actually getting all of his personality and memories removed, even if it had to be done via a spoon and some willpower.

Impossible thing 4: Actually, that had been a date, and now he had to go through the process of meeting Fuyuhiko’s sister in order to get “approved”.

He was sure that had at least half-been a joke, but it had hit him like a ton of bricks nonetheless. Hadn’t Natsumi been in his class in the reserve course? That was a lot to unpack, and he definitely had to put all his cards on the table. He felt bad lying anyway, but he was absolutely-100%-no-shadow-of-a-doubt sure that Natsumi wouldn’t put up with a single ounce of his shit if he tried to lie his way out of it. Which, incidentally, is how he found himself in an empty classroom with Fuyuhiko at lunch, after saying he had something important to tell him.

There was no good way to go about this. If it had been awkward with Chiaki, it was going to be a thousand times more awkward with Fuyuhiko. There was no way he could just say “hey, by the way, while I didn’t technically lie about recovering from surgery, I wasn’t sick at all! In fact, this academy was doing some crazy experiments on my brain, and now I have talent to boot!”, so instead he was stuttering and trying to find the correct words to say.

“I, uh, haven’t told you the whole truth about why I’m here. Like, at Hope’s Peak, not in this classroom,” Hajime felt himself getting red in the face, “Obviously. You know how they said I was recovering from surgery?”

“That bullshit story? C’mon, I don’t care why you’re here, I’m just glad that you are. Finally got the class to stop breathing down my neck about why me and Peko aren’t dating.”

So far so not-terrible.

“Well uh, yeah. It wasn’t all bullshit. I was recovering from surgery,” The redness in his face was definitely getting worse, “N-not that I’m sick or anything! It’s just that I was a Reserve student last year, and I got offered a place in the Main Course if I’d let them implant talent inside my brain. Didn’t quite go all the way with it, my parents were pretty mad when they found out everything about the project, but I ended up with a couple talents so the school let me join anyway.”

Hajime hadn’t thought silence could be deafening until then. Fuyuhiko was just looking at him, somewhere between horrified and disgusted. It was hard to tell which. Alarm bells in his head were screaming ABORT, MISSION FAILURE, TIME TO MOVE OUT OF THE PREFECTURE AND START A NEW LIFE AS FAR AWAY FROM HERE AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.

“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re not an Ultimate?”

“Not organically, no. I wanted to tell you since we were gonna hang out with Natsumi later, and she was in my class in the Reserve course. Wanted you to hear it from me rather than her, y’know? I don’t like lying, and I feel like I have been. So, yeah. That’s the important thing,” Hajime willed the ground to swallow him whole. It didn’t.

Impossible thing 5: That conversation actually turned out alright.

“Y’know I don’t mind, right?” Hajime’s brain completely stopped for a moment at that, before rebooting to listen to what came next, “Natsumi told me about a Hajime in her class. Description and everything. Did some digging, found out that you were the same guy. Didn’t wanna mention it in case it was a sore subject. I’m glad you told me though, don’t you fuckin’ dare try and keep a secret this big from me in the future, alright?”

The response he came up with was little more than “I-yeah-okay. Promise.”

Fuyuhiko nodded at him then grinned, “Now don’t go making me worry about you like that again. Got it? I thought you were gonna tell me that you were actually fuckin’ sick. Unless being a dumbass is a disease, in which case I think it’s terminal.”

#brainrot #2am kuzuhina brainrot #in its purest form #ie #me completely going off for about a thousand words #drabble

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vonnyphant · 3 years

Text

To Blog or Not to Blog?

“You should start a diary and write about your experiences. It may help people going through the same thing.”

Honestly? If there’s one thing I discovered about this diagnosis, it’s that it makes me pretty damn selfish. I don’t want to help other people (not just yet, anyway). But putting some thoughts down about this time in my life may be of some sort of therapeutic value, and I do want to help myself.

(Maybe for once, saving the world can wait. Do you remember how, soon after the pandemic hit, people stopped avoiding plastic and single-use items? When your health is at risk, suddenly rainforests and polar bears and the planet are deprioritised- not that anyone will admit to this. But this is my diary and I can say what I want!* Writing for myself it is.)

Having established my less-than-Mother-Theresa-like reasons for this blog, my conscience cleared, it’s time to start. This is where the Lifetime movie shows me, in a half daze, mellowed out on drugs while they sew a mediport into my chest to start administering chemicals. A fast lane to my bloodstream. A docking station. The soundtrack? Hopefully ‘Across The Universe’ by the Beatles (possibly Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. If I get a say in it, I veto The Walrus) Time to pump this body full of drugs that’ll make my hair fall out.

Wait, what?

Voice Over: “Yep. That’s me. You’re probably wondering what I am doing here…” //record scratch - freeze frame - fast rewind to the psychedelic outtro of A Day In The Life//

Two months ago, during rub-a-dub-in-the-tub (less naughty than it sounds, was just washing myself), my mind inexplicably went to an episode of Beverly Hills 90210, s1 (aired in 1992- yes, I am that old), where Brenda Walsh has a breast cancer scare. I say inexplicably, because my usual shower fantasies do not include Ms Shannon Doherty - if I was going to pick a shower lady, I’d opt for Charlize Theron, Kiera Knightly or Winona Ryder in their short-hair phases, but that is neither here nor there.

Say what you want for 90s television- weird outfits and ponytails notwithstanding, in their AfterSchoolSpecial PSA way, they dedicated a whole scene to the girls giving themselves a breast exam, including how-to instructions**, and eventhough I was only 11 years old when I saw it, I remembered what to do, and for the last 30 years, every now and then I have randomly carried it out while wondering how I always preferred Brandon over Dylan and how my tastes have changed over time.

But this time - my hand actually found something.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself down the same way I did after finding spots on my skin, lumps on my head and every time I sneezed since covid-19; by telling myself to fucking snap out of my hypochondria tendencies. One cannot go to the doctor every damn day after all. Breast tissue is pretty lumpy and I assumed it was just imaginary. I made an appointment to see a therapist, and put it out of my mind until a few weeks later, when one of the kids came crashing down on me (literally) and faceplanted in my boob (as they do).

Now this always hurts af, but it just hurt that little more that day, so that I grabbed the appendage in question and went “WHAT THE--!” And I felt it again- the lump, more defined than a few weeks before.

Cue a lot more freaking out than the first time, and after a sleepless night, imagining what my funeral would look like (as one does), I decided to go to the gynocologist the same day or risk never to sleep again.

After a long wait and an ultrasound, my doctor assured me that while there really was a mass, it had every indication of being benign. We should keep an eye on it. If I was worried, I could schedule a second screening, but would not likely get an appointment before April. I scheduled one and tried to focus on preparing our first lockdown Christmas.

But over the holidays, the lump started hurting, even when I wasn’t poking it or having a kid catapult themselves into my chest. I’d be Netflix and Chilling, and suddenly - ZAP - like someone stuck a hot needle into it. Repeatedly. My nipple would go numb or start tingling like a bodypart that fell asleep. It freaked me out, and in the new year, I realised I couldn’t wait until April - I had to get it checked out again or I may worry myself to death.

My gynocologist did another ultrasound and again, told me not to worry. I told her it was way too late for that as I had been worried for weeks, and I wanted the thing biopsied (they gave Brenda Walsh one too, after all! It’s the only way to be 100% sure). She referred me to the hospital. At the description of my symptoms, I could come directly, and the radiologist told me in no unclear terms: “I will not let you leave this room until we draw blood and take several biopsies.” Okay- not exactly what one wants to hear at that point, but at the same time, I figured knowing would be better than guessing by the shape of it.

Test results took a week. I went in, being prepared to be told (like Brenda) it was a harmless clump of random cells or a cyst we could have removed like a wart. Only it wasn’t. It was breast cancer, an aggressive, fast-growing kind, and had I waited until April, that could have had disastrous consequences.

While the doctor explained we now needed to determine the scope of the spread and take more tissue to determine what kind of chemo (if any) could be applied, all my 2020-PTSD brain could think was:

“.............of course”.

Didn’t hear much of what she said afterwards.

Another harrowing 4 days went by, with a CT screening with contrast solutions that gave me an intense stomach ache as well as a migraine, and finally, a fully rounded diagnosis and treatment advice could be made.

Thankfully, all my organs as well as lymphnodes were clear, so it appears to be a localised tumor. And here we are - to fight this thing with chemicals and then cut out whatever is left. Genetics testing to see about the likelihood of a recurrency (and a possible double mastectomy if so - ‘pulling an Angelina Jolie’, ‘not saving the tatas’, insert ‘Think About It meme’...can’t have breast cancer if you don’t have breasts! THINK ABOUT IT***).

Chances are good. I need to cling to that while I wait for this port and treatment to start. I have accepted the inevitable hair loss, have scheduled a ritual ‘crazy hair cutting party’ with my kids for this weekend (as I would rather shave it off in one go than clean up clumps and strands over the course of weeks and look like Gollum), and I have sewn several funny little hats for inside wear and ‘going out’ (though where will I be going in pandemic, idk).

I was going to end this post on a light and happy note - but I must admit my confidence just took a really big hit in real time, as I googled how to spell Shannon’s last name for this blog entry and found out that she was treated for breast cancer in 2015, initially succesfully, but it reappeared metastasized in 2020 (again: ‘of course...when else’) and she is now in stage IV. Fuck 2020.

What are the odds that the woman whose character made me discover my own breast cancer is now, in fact, dying of the same disease? This will surely haunt me for a long time to come.

More tomorrow? Or soon? It may take a while. Until then: outro to It’s Getting Better.

*also for the record I would like to state that I’ve sewn my own masks from upcycled pillowcases and continued using fruit- and vegetable nets to avoid plastic; maybe that makes up for me being utterly selfish at the moment. Karma +1?

** https://youtu.be/pkgYXITkrfw (the scene from BH 90210)

***cis men / trans women without breasts can also get breast cancer (even though it’s rare) so this meme doesn’t really hold up, but that’s the whole point of the meme ;)

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jennifercrowart · 3 years

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D&D Diary - The Yawning Rodent, 10

Refresher: Our adventurers Lugs (grung barbarian), Lurk (grung rogue), Aelia (tiefling cleric), and Valas (drow sorcerer) with tagalong Deku (ratfolk cleric) continued the battle against the hobgoblin leader of the Goblin Gang, Durnn, and his gang members. Suddenly, Yusdrayl, leader of the Kobold Gang, joined the fray with her elite guards, providing backup to the party. After the Goblin Gang was defeated, Lurk made Durnn lie to Yusdrayl and say that the Goblin Gang still has Calcryx, and that they moved her to the lower level when they heard the adventurers coming - when, in reality, the adventurers had already knocked her out and spirited her away to the Rat's Nest in the previous days, rather than returning the dragon wyrmling to Yusdrayl.

The party levelled up to 3, and climbed down the vines lining a well shaft in Durnn's chambers to descend to the floor below. They landed in a room lined with garden beds, and Aelia called out to two animated skeletons tending to them - but, when she did so, the skeletons and some twig blights attacked! Valas also spies a bugbear and two giant rats by a fire in the adjoining room...

Sunless Citadel spoilers!

The robed skeletons, armed with gardening shovels and following the lead of the twig blights, attack!

Lugs recalls how he spent his recent short rest soaking in his barrel of water, thinking about home. He's sick of this place, and wishes he could return to his cosy hometown, where he can take a swim whenever he likes. As his rage builds, he reaches out to the element of water that he misses so dearly - he shouts (croaks) in Grung, "I call upon the powers of the swamp!", and a torrent of muddy, brackish water erupts from the ground at his webbed feet, bowling into everyone around him. The rest of the party, as well as the skeletons and twig blights, get hit with this barrage of swamp water dealing bludgeoning damage, as Lugs surges forward and completely obliterates the closest twig blight with his club. Lugs is now a storm herald barbarian - a storm herald of the swamp! Ribbit!

In the adjoining cavern, the bugbear - dressed and equipped like a hunter - notices the battle breaking out, and begins charging into the garden room with his two giant rats, Grip and Fang.

Aelia panics when she sees the giant rats, asking Deku, "what happened to them??" This implies that Aelia doesn't know what regular rats are, let alone giant rats, as though they're cursed ratfolk?! Deku doesn't know what to say.

Lugs runs over to meet the hunter and, with another loud croak, he refreshes his torrent of swamp water. The wave pushes the bugbear against the wall, hitting his head with a yell. Aelia follows up with Toll The Dead, hitting him back against the wall with the force of the magic and making him look a bit concussed.

As the party turns their attention to the bugbear hunter and his giant rats instead of the weaker skeletons and remaining twig blight, Valas uses his Metamagic to shoot two Chaos Bolts, with one boosted by his Tides of Chaos, hitting each giant rat. Grip and Fang fall unconscious with little squeaks, and, without him doing anything, Deku's amulet of the Rat King begins to glow, quickly and automatically teleporting the hurt giant rats away.* The bugbear curses in anger, mentioning that rats are very naughty and that it took ages for him to train them.

After using so much of his magic at once, Valas feels the wild magic surge bubbling up once again. Suddenly, his skin tingles and sparks, and powerful arcs of electricity suddenly burst out of him and strike one of the skeletons, the bugbear, and Lugs. The bugbear is electrocuted, killing him, and he hadn't even had the chance to make a single attack yet. The skeleton is easily killed and turned to ash. Lugs gets zapped too, his silhouette showing his froggy skeleton, but is still standing, thanks to his strong constitution - though he's looking much more worse for wear.

Stunned by all of this, Lurk just stabs the air next to him without even looking, and kills the last twig blight.

With the battle over, the party has a look around. Aelia, disgusted and furious, points at her swamp-soaked dress - once white but now mud brown at the ends - and says that she'll be sending Lugs her dry-cleaning bill. Lurk sees that there are four well-tended garden pots around, each with a strange mushroom in it. Three of the mushrooms are withered and dull, dead as though they had just failed to thrive, but the fourth mushroom is glowing a vibrant purple. He picks it and shows Lugs, musing about what it could be for, when Lugs just says it's a funny mushroom and jovially slaps his brother on the back. Lurk gulps as he lurches forwards from the hearty blow, and when he turns back to Lugs, he's accidentally swallowed the purple mushroom. His eyes grow wide, and the colours invert so his sclera are black and his pupils are white. Suddenly, he collapses.

Deku panics. He'd cast Detect Poison And Disease just earlier, to check the mushrooms and garden, but the only things that his senses had picked up on were Lugs' and Lurks' inherent poisonous skin secretions, normal for grungs. He tries to wake Lurk up, as Lugs gets concerned for his brother.

After a moment, Lugs hears Lurk's voice in his mind, telling him "ah, my brother, I have not seen you in quite some time." Though Lurks' lips aren't moving, Lugs is relieved and thinks he must be ok and awake. Lurk does open his eyes, with the white pupils now an unsettling purple, just like the mushroom's colouring. He stares wide and unblinking.

Aelia asks what happened to him when he ate it, and Lurk pauses a moment. Telepathically, he asks, "what mushroom?"

After a beat, he smiles. "...oh, that?" He shakes his head. "Heh. That was so long ago." Lurk's mind has been awakened to all of space and time in just an instant. He has mentally transcended this mortal coil. Normally, grungs can only use 10% of their brain power at any one time, but Lurk? Lurk has now unlocked 100% of his brain power, expanding his mind's reach to the cosmos and beyond, and tapping into psychic abilities that regular folk could hardly even comprehend. He is now a soulknife rogue!

The group continues looking around, venturing into the cave where the bugbear came from. It's a large earthy cavern with a tunnel curving out from the back wall, and there's a fire pit, a bed, two rat nests, and a rack of weaponry. After checking the bugbear's body, Lugs takes his flail, which has runes written on the chain links. He swings it around in glee. Under the bed, Aelia finds a little box with about 780 gold in it - she pockets 200 of it in secret (though Valas notices, and Lurk does too, staring at her unblinkingly - neither says anything) and then evenly splits the rest of it amongst the whole party.

The group doubles back to the garden. There are two more doors: one on the eastern wall, and one in the southeast corner. Lurk checks the eastern door for a lock or traps, and then sneaks through.

Beyond the door is a large laboratory, with three more doors on either side of it and one at the end. All but one of the doors on either side of the room are ajar, and they hear squishing noises from one of the closest rooms, as well as the sounds of soft conversations. Lurk continues to sneak around, and finds that the room where the squelching is coming from has two goblin interns in it, squishing fruit into goon with their feet as part of a big wine creation and straining process. They don't notice him.

He peeks into another room, and sees a goblin bandit and two interns standing around a table in a room with more lab and medical equipment, as well as dry blood splatters on the floor. The goblins are doing busywork around the room, and there appears to be a near-naked human strapped spread-eagled to the table, not moving.

Lurk uses his new abilities; he sees a cross-section of the goblin bandit's body, and sends a small blade of psychic energy cutting through the spinal cord. Without a physical wound or the noise of a weapon, the goblin collapses, killed instantly. The two interns spin around at the sound of him hitting the floor, and rush to his side, confused and trying to rouse him. One of them gets up and says they're going to get some help. Lurk waits around the corner as they step out of the room, before he silently closes the door behind them and stabs them from behind with another psychic blade. The intern yelps and falls to the ground, dead.

Hearing the remaining intern inside get up to check out the noise, Lurk presses his back against the door to keep it closed. Soon enough, he feels a pressure on the other side of the door, and his feet start to slide as he gets pushed along with it. Concentrating, he uses some telekinetic energy to reinforce himself and overpower the goblin, keeping the door closed. The intern mutters, "hey, what the fuck?" and rattles the doorknob.

Lurk spins around and opens the door, staring the surprised intern dead in the eyes for a beat, before a purple psychic knife phases out of his head and shoots straight through the intern. Lurk drags the two bodies back inside the room, and takes a cursory glance at the human on the table - their eyes are closed and they're not moving, so he telepathically communicates to the rest of the party that they're obviously dead, before he goes to check out another room.

Lugs starts creeping towards the wine-making goblins when Aelia, behind him, accidentally trips on the wet and muddy hems of her dress. The goblins notice the noise and freeze, slowly drawing their clubs. Lugs, staring at them, walks up to the door and closes it. Deku, also trying to sneak into the lab, accidentally makes a loud clang with his heavy armour, and Valas yelps as he almost slips on the mud from Aelia's dress as well. A goblin intern walks up to the door from inside one of the rooms, where they and another intern were patching up some damaged leather armour sets, to check out the noise, but stops dead in their tracks when they notice the party in the laboratory. Terrified, they close the door on themselves. Lurk walks straight up to it and knocks, telling them that they'll be killed unless they open up. They oblige, and he then demands that the two interns go stand in the corner and just quietly stare at the wall, mentioning that the other goblins here are all dead. He closes the door on them.

Aelia goes to the human on the table and sees that they're still breathing; not dead at all, but unconscious or asleep. They're covered in cuts and bruises, and their skin looks like thick, ghostly-white bark. Roots grow out of their feet and toes, and moss, mushrooms, and branches grow out of their back and shoulders. Their fingers are long and knobbly, like twigs, and their hair looks more like thin leaves. Aelia casts some healing magic on them, and when she's done, their eyes snap open and they start straining against their bindings, panicking and screaming. She calms them down, and sets to work on untying the restraints. "Who are you? How did you get here? If you were a human before, you don't look very human now."

Insisting he's human, he begins to talk, shaking. He tells her that he's Chadley Hucrele, who she recognises as one of the people they were hired to find - the noble Kar'yn's son. Chadley explains that he and McKennedeigh - his sister - came to the Sunless Citadel with their two hired helpers to find treasure and glory, but, after exploring a bit of the citadel, they were captured by the Goblin Gang and held in a cell for a while, their belongings confiscated. The hobgoblin leader, Durnn, then told them they were being taken to 'the boss', and they were forced to climb down the well shaft to the lower level. While climbing, Chadley slipped and fell, and he suspects he broke his arm. After that, they were taken to the laboratory, where an old man called Belak met them. Belak took McKennedeigh and Bradley away, and kept Chadley here, where he'd occasionally return to feed him a vile potion that made Chadley feel seriously ill. Horrified, Valas wonders aloud if the people here are turning prisoners into twig blights. Chadley says he thinks he's been unconscious most of the time, as he doesn't remember much after that.

Aelia finds his belongings like some under-armour pants and a shirt - though Valas realises Durnn must have been wearing Chadley's armour - in the corner, including his Hucrele ring. She hands it to him. "Your mum was going to pay us just to bring back this ring."

Chadley takes it, downcast. Aelia puts together a makeshift splint and sling for his broken arm, and he pulls on his pants, but can't wear his shirt because of the growths on his back and shoulders.

Lurk also finds a crystal vial of cloudy white liquid amongst the laboratory equipment. He asks if that's what Belak made him drink, and Chadley confirms it. Deku puts it in his pack for safekeeping, as well as a strange stethoscope Lurk also found.

Lugs has a look in two of the other rooms: one is empty but has the back wall caved in, opening up to a rift that continues on into the darkness. The other room is a weapons storeroom, with a short 10ft little entrance hall attached to it. He peeks out the door of the entrance hall, and finds that it opens onto the side of a much bigger hallway, complete with artwork of dragons on the walls. Another bugbear - this one seemingly dressed more like a gardener - walks away from him down the hall. Quietly, he closes the door again and goes back to the lab.

Valas uses mage hand to open the remaining unchecked door. Inside are three goblins, sleeping in bunks in what appears to be a break room. As they haven't woken up yet, they leave them be.

Lurk tells Lugs that Lugs will be the bad cop, and Lurk will play good cop, as they enter the small room where the two interns had been making wine. Reminded of the sour goon and now faced with the image of the goblins' bare feet squishing the fruits to make it, Aelia goes and pukes around the corner. The two goblins are terrified, and beg Lurk and Lugs not to hurt them, as they aren't fighters. Lurk tells them that if they leave this room, Lugs will smash them to a pulp, and they believe the threat as Lugs croaks menacingly and busts his club into a nearby barrel, spraying goon all over himself while he stares the interns down. Sufficiently terrified, the two grungs leave them in there, blocking the door with a chair.

Valas and Aelia double-back to the garden they first entered after their climb down the well, as Valas wants to confirm something. Using one of his daggers, he saws off the branch-like arm of a dead twig blight, and sees that it's wood and bark all the way through. He sighs in relief, having been worried that there'd be some kind of flesh inside that would confirm that they were transformed people.

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

* = the rats are always gonna be ok, folks, don't worry

#dungeons and dragons #5e #dm diary #dnd diary #d&d #d&d diary #dnd #dungeon master diary #session recap #the sunless citadel #the yawning rodent

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commanders-sole-braincell · 4 years

Photo

some super speedy sketches cuz I can only think creatively if I’m drawing the thing (excuse the anatomy)

anyway - sylvair and mutations! (cuz sniffing at chimera’s and somantic mutations wasn’t enough for my grubby mitts!)

Also, hey big warning; if eyes, body horror, dead bodies (animal and human), and stuff like that isn’t your kinda thing - DO. NOT. GOOGLE. THE. TERMS. USED. HERE.

(if anyone’s desperate to read the wiki or look at images while dodging the more distressing ones hmu and I’ll help!)

I’m gonna shove my ramblings under the cut cuz A) I’mma write an essay for each and B) due to the nature of these mutations I am gonna touch upon body horror, and death and these are real mutations that do affect people!

Alright, strategically put the ones that are the least likely to throw people off at the top so I’m gonna ramble in order (top to bottom, left to right!) I’m also gonna be trying to summarize, generalize and describe these without writing a whole page so my info might not be 100% spot on!

Warnings for Animal death, body horror, death mention, infant death mention, eye horror mention, and bodily fluids and mess.

Harlequin Ichthyosis - this is a genetic disorder where the skin on the outside of the body hardens and cracks, leaving a jagged pattern across the skin of hardened plates which go a pale cream colour (and if I rcall correctly, possibly calcify?) ; this usually results in death within the first few months to weeks of life, after which the plates fall off, leaving tight, pink skin behind (essentially, the person almost has the appearance of being turned inside out). Recent developments in medicine mean that cases of people surviving this and living the rest of their lives with Ichthyosis are more common (granted alot of intensive care is needed). Breathing cna be restricted due to the tight skin (especially with the plates) and unfortunately ear or noses sometimes do not form on the infant.

For sylvari, I imagine this is probably pretty dangerous, as they can’t synthesize and, like the human counterparts, are very sensitive to the sun and other skin damages; I imagine the skin is like the inside of a plant, paler in colour to the sylvari’s actual skin - possibly with different texutres depending on type, where as the plates form as hardened bark or hard, dead leaves on the sylvari. They have to rely on other cultures for nutrients and clothing, and possibly may not glow at all.

Sirenomelia - (also known as the one I couldn’t draw to save my life!) This is where the individual is born with their legs fused, like a mermaid tail; hence the name. Degree of fusion ranges and can go up into the spine, and the person is unable to walk. While most notable individuals have passed, partly due to the fact this mutation can cause internal organs to not form (if I’m remembering correctly!), individuals do survive into adulthood and some have surgeries to improve quality of life!

For sylvari, I like to imagine this effects water-based plantlife sylvari more, with it varying from fused legs, to a fusion of the legs morphing in a way that it can act as a tail! Wheelcharis are used for land based adventures, and dresses and skirts may be more favoured!

Also, if I’m remembering correctly, sylvari possibly have their brains in their lower back - which could mean that this could be the most potentially fatal mutation for sylvari, making surviving individuals rare - but also they’re sylvari and rules do not apply!

Polymelia - Simply put, polymelia is where an individual is bron with extra limbs - most are left over from a merge or conjoining twins - but there are cases with several extra limbs. Often these limbs are underdeveloped or deformed. usually this is not fatal, and these extra limbs can be safety removed if necessary.

Because this is sylvari, I thought that there’s bound to be those born who have working limbs, and those who came without (the kiddos in the pic share a nice mix between them) - and I like to think sylvari grow the same as humans (infant - child - teen - adult) in their pods, so limbs could be fully formed, or from one of the other stages!

Cyclopia (the pink sylvari) - Cyclopia is a mutation where the eyes do not split and form a large eye in the centre of the forehead, and is often accompanied by no nose being formed, and organs may or may not form correctly; making the mutation fatal within a few hours or birth - the longest surviving creature with this was a goat, which reportedly survived up to a week after birth.

For sylvari, where organs don’t matter and the nose is a myth, cyclopia is probably survivable - assuming there’s a lid able to close around the eye and keep it moist. Emoting would probably be the biggest challenge, and bullying from other races may cause the most issues.

Now to tackle the three remaining vari!

These three are all various forms of Polycephaly mutations, sometimes known as two-headed. From left to right;

Wine and gold sylvari - this is a form of polycephaly known as Craniopagus (full name is often craniopagus parasiticus) Where the merging of twin embryos has occurred at the head, and the living twin has the underdeveloped twin’s head and even possibly torso attached to their head. There are even reports of individuals where they have a secondary face on the back of their head, that can function enough to smile. These cannot exist independently of each other, unlike conjoined twins.

For sylvari, they could function with a twin attached to their skull (assuming it’s just their head, and not other parts - that could cause stress on the body) assuming the brain is not in the skull - or even if it is; theoretically the sylvari twins could function together!

Green twins - These represent a more common, I’d suppose, form of Polycephaly, known as Dicephalic Parapagus and function visually somewhat similar to conjoined twins. Survival depends entirely upon what factors the body has - seemingly those with more than two arms have a higher chance to survive to adulthood, but this is not necessarily a hard truth, as having two hearts and an individual spin attached to each head seems to be the most important factors for survival; as such, survival numbers are low. Interestingly, once helped through certain challenges, most twins can thrive on their own, although we are still learning more. Seemingly, most twins get control of one arm and one leg, although this may vary.

For sylvari, I imagine this isn’t much of a problem unless something happens to one of the twin’s heads - in which case the other twin could be at risk unless the other is removed (gotta get that angst in somewhere!) Granted sibling fights and getting along are probably a big deal for these sylvari, and they may need more nutrient to power their body. Also the fact they control separate sides of the body may actually aid them better in Tyrian life

Blue and gold sylvari - this is another form of polycephaly that is well known - Diprosopus - which is where the facial features are duplicated on the head of one body. While considered to be conjoined twinning, this is actually accused by a abnormal activity in the protein Sonic Hedgehog (stop laughing it’s a real thing). This often occurs with other congenital diseases, and individuals often don’t live very long, as other illnesses or issues are usually the cause of fatality. But there are instances of animals surviving with this, including a cat who lived to be 15 years old.

For sylvari, I imagine the issues that surround humans with this mutation, aren’t as fatal? They may have poorer health, or they may not! And while I’ve displayed one with a more textbook version of Diprosopus, this isn’t the only option, and a variety of features can pop up!

(fun fact! Low Sonic Hedgehog protein causes Cyclopia, too much Sonic protein causes Diprosopus! Sonic controls the width of facial features!)

Hoo boy I think i got them all I gotta go lie down, I read about Sonic protein and got dizzy bye ya’ll

#look ma art #eyes tw #body horror tw #eye horror tw #gw2 #sylvari

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “So many Dumb Ways to Die”

Ok, I am really sorry guys that I haven't posted. I got into a real intense art project that may or may not have been aggressively nerdy, and then a new season of my show came out on Netflix, so I had to binge watch that, as you do, but here you go better late than never.

Report ID 2241570

Author Krill

Can we talk about something…. Something that annoys me greatly, and I am sick and tired of having to deal with?

No? Well TOO BAD because if I am sick and tired of it, than the rest of you are going to have to suffer with me, also if I get one more letter about how my reports are unsettling, scarring or starting to worry my superiors, than don’t bother. You can just take your complaints and shove them RIGHT UP…..

*voice from the background* Uh, Krill, are you ok.

*grumble* Yes, fine, just doing another report…. Anyway, I wanted to talk about humans, because of course you knew that, they are the only creature in the galaxy capable of annoying me so greatly. In fact, I am 100% convinced that human emotions rubbed off on me for the specific reason of giving me the ability to be pissed off.

Why, Krill, why are you so pissed off today? Well, thank you for asking, so kind of you. I am annoyed because everyone in the universe seems to be convinced that humans are indestructible killing machines incapable of dying, but I am here to tell you that that is not the case….. well I mean, it is the case, but sometimes it isn’t….

AHHHRGG

That’s just the point though, humans are simultaneously the most indestructible creatures in the galaxy while simultaneously having the FANTASTIC ability to die over the stupidest o things. So the problem becomes that you have to keep your human alive when everyone, including themselves, is convinced they are indestructible, but they are, in fact, surprisingly easy to kill. Do you know how constantly I have to worry about humans because they have this ability to get into the most dangerous situations, and of course they might just survive, but they might also just die getting out of bed.

A list of a few things humans can survive if you don’t believe me.

· There are at least 7 humans I know of who have survived falling at terminal velocity from the sky 122 mph if anyone is asking. Ok granted there were other factors that contributed to their survival, like shattering glass, snow, and a mountain hillside, but can we just think about that for a bit?

· Humans routinely get themselves struck by lightning, ok maybe not routinely, I looked up the statistics. About 1,000 people are insured by lightning each year and some 100 die from it just in what used to be the United States, but that means at least ONE of those people was directly struck and didn’t die….. Yeah…. Super-heated sky plasma of death…..

· A human once survived 21 gunshot wounds……

· Humans have survived being shot in the head, getting their lower mandible shot off or getting shot through the neck.

· Humans also survive traumatic brain injury, and I’m not talking simply about a hit on the head, I am talking about objects being jammed into their brains. Take my friend the Commander for example, who survived a screwdriver through the eye-socket and into his brain, with minimal brain damage. MINIMAL BRAIN DAMAGE! Any brain damage should be death, but NO humans just call it MINIMAL which means, apparently, it’s no big deal.

· They lose limbs ALL the time. I swear I am not joking. Again, take my Commander again, he got his RIPPED OFF traumatically. Humans get them blown off, ripped off, or just plain cut off because it medically relevant. LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL! There was even one human who CUT OF HIS OW ARM with a pocketknife......

*sigh*

· They also just casually transplant organs like it’s no big deal.

· Horrifying diseases that make your insides hemorrhage. Yeah no big deal for humans either.

· Most humans can survive a second degree burn covering 70% of the body. A lower percentage (but still notably a percentage) can survive 3rd degree burns over 50% of the body….. NOT LIKE ANYONE SHOULD WANT TO SURVIVE THAT. At this point it’s just cruel to keep the poor human alive.

· HUMANS DON’T NEED HALF THEIR BRAIN…… sometimes they just effing remove it because it’s convenient that way. HALF OF THEIR MOTHER F***ING BRAIN

· Humans can theoretically survive for 15 seconds in the vacuum of space…… WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO BE ALIVE FOR FIFTEEN SECONDS THROUGH THE MOST HORRIBLE DEATH IMAGINABLE, I ASK YOU!

· Or they can just survive plain straight up dying. Like they die, and as long as another human is there to pump their heart for them, they can just go right on to recover like nothing ever happened. Do you have any idea HOW INSANE THAT IS.? Humans can shake off DEATH

Yeah and no wonder humans seem indestructible, but I swear to you. Just as much as they are indestructible, they can also just go right ahead and fall apart.

· Human organs can just go right ahead and malfunction. Just up and get inflamed and rupture ad kill them, without any provocation what- so-ever. So as a doctor, I constantly have to worry about my humans’ organs exploding.

· Humans WILL die without sleep. The longest a human was known to last was about 11 days, and then they died.

· A man bit his own tongue and died from infection. Surprisingly a lot of stupid ways to die end up in infection for humans, stubbing your toe, biting your tongue, biting another person, getting a PAPER CUT, or not washing yourself properly.

· Another human stepped out of the shower, slipped and hit his head and died.

· Oh sitting….. yes you heard me right, SITTING can kill humans. How you may ask, oh yeah it might cause blood clots in the legs that will break off and end up in the lungs…… the human body is an absolute minefield of things that can just go wrong.

· The inability to pee, or just plain deciding not to pee because humans……. Because…..sometimes I really hate humans. I mean honestly, how are you expected to take care of an entire crew of them when their organs might explode, or they may just decide not to pee anymore.

· Laughing…. People have died from laughing. You heard me correctly, this is just stupid. Outrageously stupid.

· You can survive 15 seconds in the vacuum of space, but can’t survive stepping on a nail. Doesn’t that freak anyone else out because one of those seem far more extreme to me than the others.

· Also humans have this stupid habit of shoving their nasty bits into anything small enough to fit it in, or shove something unusual up somewhere it shouldn’t be. DON’T THEY SELL THINGS SPECIFICALLY FOR THAT! WHY THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THESE STUPID THINGS.

· Sheer stupidity, just going off the last one we discussed, sometimes human stupidity can be directly linked to death.

· Falling down a manhole. You can survive falling from an airplane, but falling down a manhole is just out of the question.

· Accidentally being strangled by their own scarves.

· Choking WHILE EATING. You can survive doing stupid things, but you know what you died of YOU DIED BECAUSE YOU NEEDED TO EAT. One of the only thigs humans and other species have in common and YOU MAKE THAT THE THING THAT KILLS YOU.

· Falling out of bed. I MEAN HONESTLY….. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

· Or a blasted coconut could just fall from a tree and brain you in the head. The most feared and only predator species in the galaxy and you get killed by falling coconuts.

· Or you can just trip and die, there is always that option. NO better way than to kick the bucket than by just walking minding your own business.

· O how would you like to be speared by an icicle from your death planet, sounds fun doesn’t it.

· Oh and if you wanted to feel horrible today, just a reminder that humans can just up and die from sadness, yeah a human can become so sad, that their heart just STOPS WORKING. WHAT THE HELL. Humans can die because they are sad.

My favorite is spontaneous organ explosion, and when I mean favorite, I mean I hate it. I have to take care of these people, and what it all boils down to is that humans die from blows to the head, and infection, but what happened when I suggested wearing helmets? THEY LAUGHED AT ME. I am the one sitting here terrified their organs are going to spontaneously rupture, and they are over there LAUGHING AT ME!

WHY IS THIS SO HARD?

Why is it that nothing about humans makes sense? Indestructible but not, and now I have to make sure their organs don’t rupture, they eat enough, they sleep, they protect their heads, and now I have to worry about my humans being too sad.

I AM terrified.

I just want to take care of my humans. Why can’t they make it easier on me?

Comment if there is a dumb way to die I missed, or a miraculous survival story to prove humans are indestructible :)

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #earth is a deathworld #earth is space australia

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floorbed · 4 years

Text

pen playlist tiem. brain full of thoughts i think this is my longest playlist ever . lyrics and annotation and sections under the cut for funsies heh

home

me and my husband - mitski

and i am the idiot with a painted face / in the corner taking up space / but when he walks in i am loved / i am loved / me and my husband we’re doing better / it’s always been just him and me together / so i bet all i have on that furrowed brow / and at least in this lifetime we’re sticking together

turf war - momma

the kings and queens are on the court / they’re sitting pretty on the floor

this charming man - the smiths

a jumped up pantry boy / who never knew his place / he said return the ring / he knows so much about these things / he knows so much about these things

utopia - cowgirl clue

living in a great utopia is quite nice is quite nice / living in a great utopia you pay the price you pay the price / living in a great utopia roll the dice kiss goodbye / living the dream living the dream living the dream

bubblegum bitch - marina and the diamonds

got a figure like a pin up got a figure like a doll / don’t care if you think i’m dumb i don’t care at all / candy bear sweetie pie wanna be adored / i’m the girl you’d die for / i’ll chew you up and spit you out / cus that’s what young love is all about

…

oh dear diary, i met a boy

(do the) act like you never met me - tv girl

the hidden kisses / the clumsy conspiratory glance / but i don’t really mind it no / i always liked the way you danced

it will come back - hozier

don’t give it a hand / offer it a soul / honey make this easy / leave it to the land / this is what it knows / honey that’s how it sleeps / don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ don’t be kind to it / honey don’t feed it it will come back

real men - mitski

little boys cry and look around for comfort and / always get what they want

song against sex - neutral milk hotel

and he said oh boy you are so pretty / enough to wrap tight in rice paper string / and when i finally kissed him / the whole world began to ring / lost like a bell that’s tipping over / with two cracks along both sides / and i knew the world was over / so i took a look outside

(running away before the trial and seeing the world for the first time vibes!)

exile, early party

april and the phantom - animal collective

i’m sorry april / but you’ll be fine till then / i’m the phantom / i’m the phantom / i’m the phantom

(Pens First Summoning Dot Mp3)

insects are all around us - money mark

(from pens very first introduction in session 1 when he was walking in the woods and was described like looking like a lil insect)

bug - alex g

and when you go there / you stay there / bug in the crosshair / you stay there

king of carrot flowers pt 2 & 3 - neutral milk hotel

i love you jesus christ / jesus christ i love you yes i do

you’ll miss me when i’m not around - grimes

if you don’t bleed then you don’t die / cross my heart and hope to fly / if you like it then you’ll make it out alive / if they could see me now / smiling six feet underground / i’ll tie my feet to rocks and drown / you’ll miss me when i’m not around

rich bitch juice (HANA remix) - alice longyu gao

don’t you dare talk to me / bitch

fool - moonbounce

you could’ve let me think im right / i could’ve tried to keep my cool / i could’ve followed my own rules / i could’ve used you like a tool / i could’ve played a fucking fool

isle

hooped earrings - the front bottoms

and you have gotta do this now or you can never come home again / yeah you have gotta do this now or you can never come home again / and there are not so many options / there’s not so many ways that this could possibly end / so you have gotta do this now or you can never come home again

wicked boy - alex g

real men walk / on the outside / on the outside / on the outside / and they take it for the team

black hair - alex g

it’s not what you are / it’s just what you did / don’t hang up the phone / i love you to death / eternal return / eternal return / eternal return / eternal return

rabbit heart - florence & the machine

this is a gift it comes with a price / who is the lamb and who is the knife / when minas is king and he holds me so tight / and turns me to gold in the sunlight

oh ana - mother mother

i’ll fake god / i’ll fake god / i’ll fake god / i’ll fake god today / hop up on a cloud and watch the world decay

i am my own hell - teen suicide

i’m learning all kinds of tricks / how to drain the blood from my face

brick - alex g

i know that you’re lying / you think i don’t but i always fucking do

come back - alex g

made my promise and i’m keeping it for kicks / yeah i really didn’t think that it would stain like this / yeah i really didn’t think that it would stain like this

river of the night

trick - alex g

(this is what his Contract Signing Dream sounded like that’s all)

call this # now - the garden

call this number now / if you wanna check it out / well just do yourself a favor and just call this number now / call this number now

long way down - teen suicide

you’re a spoiled kid who’s never gonna get / anything that you deserve / i know this life’s gonna be just fine / but with any luck you know the next one’s gonna hurt

business man - mother mother

talkin bout the business man / devil with a sunday plan / buddy with a stupid laugh / just talkin bout the business man / pretty little baby / pretty little monster / went to the good school / left with honors

king rat - modest mouse

deep water / deep water / senseless denial / i went down like a rag doll rat of a child

oh lucky lucky lucky lucky me again / i said it looks like i’ve got to use my feet again / well i just spent my last one hundred dollars / god i’ll pay my bill again

after dying and being saved

new gods - grimes

hands reaching out to new gods / you can’t give me what i want / but what do i know? / i wanna i wanna i wanna let go / i wear black eyeliner / black attire yeah / so take me higher and higher and higher

…

only brand new gods can save me

home again - carole king

sometimes i wonder if i’m ever gonna make it home again / it’s so far and out of sight / i really need someone to talk to and nobody else / knows how to comfort me tonight / snow is cold rain is wet / chills my soul through the marrow / i won’t be happy till i see you alone again / till i’m home again and feeling right

miracle - paramore

and have i told you / i’m not going / cuz i’ve been waiting for a miracle / and i’m not leaving / i won’t let you / let you give up on a miracle / when it might save you

(Pen And Ori. Pen Telling Ori He’s Not Going To Stay At The Castle [Bc He Couldnt Imagine Not Seeing Her Everyday.] Pens Naive Optimism + His Want T.o Make Her Feel Better Abt The Future and The World And Everything)

dinner and diatribes - hozier

i knew it from the first look of / the look of mischief in your eyes / friends are a fate that befell me / head is the talking type / i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me / what you’d do to me tonight

(Pen And Juni Anthem)

funny - the scary jokes

and i laughed and i laughed and i gasped and i cried / and i tried not to think of my love as a punchline / but i knew the truth would catch up with me sometime / and oh what a funny joke am i

(pen crying on the bed in castle ravenloft dot mp3)

pretty funny - dogfight (lindsay mendez)

isn’t it funny? isn’t it funny? aren’t you funny? / pathetically naive and desperate to believe you could always find some good / well you misunderstood or you’ve been dreaming / cus people are just cruel

(pen crying on the bed in castle ravenloft dot mp3 Part 2)

until it goes - john congleton

oh my vengeance i swear will be biblical

…

my bride my bride how do i silence / this restlessness inside me / inside i see it kneeling through keyholes / my bride i need no absolution / on this day of my execution / just stay with me stay with me stay with me stay with me until the horror goes

(abandonment issues pen be like *stay with me stay with me stay with me stay with me noises*. also one day i want pen to hurt everyone who has severely fucked with him and thats all [m****** and d******])

beautiful - carole king

you’ve got to get up every morning / with a smile on your face / and show the world all the love in your heart / then people gonna treat you better / youre gonna find yes you will / that you’re beautiful as you feel

don’t ask me to explain - of montreal

i’d like to marry all of my close friends / live in a big house together by an angry sea / am i the devil’s marbles don’t move on without me / who will be watching my body when i sleep / who will i believe in

(Pen Be Like I Love Ori And Juni And Alba And That Is My Disease. )

100 years - florence welch

i believe in you /and in our hearts we know the truth / and i believe in love / even the darker it gets the more i do / you try and fill us with your hate and we will shine a light / and the days will become endless / and never turn to night

...

a hundred arms / a hundred years / you can always find me here / and lord don’t let me break this / let me hold it lightly / give me arms to pray with / instead of ones that hold too tightly

#mel talks #penance the jester #dnd tag

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chibivesicle · 4 years

Text

Golden Kamuy chapter 237 & 238 - new alliances form and - sperm.

I’m still behind on meta writing; you’d think with more time, I could write more but I’m 100% struggling with a routine when I have no idea what day of the week is and I can’t go into work.

Chapter 237 resolves the conflict between Sugimoto and Boutarou through their underwater breath holding contest. Shiraishi cleverly suggests that it would be to their benefit to work with Boutarou as he may have a way to figure out where the gold could be.

They aren’t sure if the rumors that Boutarou spoke of are true. Sugimoto, true to form keeps his commitment to the cause of collecting the skins. He is certain that it is the only way to find the gold. I have to admit, when Sugimoto latches onto an idea, he really doesn’t budge.

The only issue with discussing these things away from Boutarou, is that they have left him to roam free about the boat. Of course the postman, had rifled through Sugimoto’s backpack and he found the possessions of Heita. The fact that they have Heita’s notes and his Ainu tobacco case and his bloody skin, would imply that Heita is likely dead at their own hands. . . .

Boutarou then uses this time to talk to his men before he approaches Sugimoto and Shiraishi to confirm how much gold there likely is - again a much higher amount than what was originally stated. This adds to the evidence that it is a very large sum of gold. Boutarou spends a fair bit of time just chatting things up with them - I guess this allows his men to get into position or is he just a chatty convict? I’m suspecting in part he’s just chatty.

Asirpa comes to the rescue as she notices that Sugimoto’s backpack is open. Meanwhile, Shiraishi and Sugimoto are dreaming of the gold in a state of euphoria and Sugimoto seems both a bit nervous based on Boutarou’s chattiness. After his excited chattiness, Boutarou breaks it to them that it is a shame they won’t be able to search for the gold together as his man pulls a revolver on them.

Shiraishi looks shocked while Sugimoto is already moving to his angry mode . . . With impeccable timing Asirpa is able to stop the man from firing his revolver by shooting one of her arrows into the revolver, blocking the revolving motion of the chambers. Yet again, Asirpa has fired an arrow in order to save Sugimoto. It is a shame that we can’t see if she removed the poison tip or not as the panel prevents us from seeing it.

She’s able to inform them that they know that Sugimoto has Heita’s possessions and his skin. Shiraishi quickly turns to grab the revolver - showing a change in his mode of fighting others instead of simply fleeing. Next to him Sugimoto is ready to go man to man with Boutarou.

With the fight on the deck, the Captain is able to turn the boat quickly enough that a tree on the edge of the river bank knocks off, the man with the gun, Boutarou and Sugimoto. There are several pages of them falling off the boat, into the water and Sugimoto and Boutarou then begin to fight while the nameless gang member got crunched by the paddle wheel.

Sugimoto is a great disadvantage in the fight with Boutarou - his entire M.O. is to drown people by being able to out swim them. Shiraishi knows this and jumps into the water with the intent to try to help Sugimoto knowing exactly what Boutarou is planning. Shiraishi attempts to perform mouth-to-mouth transfer of air for Sugimoto and instead of accepting it, he stubbornly punches Shiraishi away.

This entire fanservice scene leaves me personally with a bad taste in my mouth. Shiraishi had the best plan for the situation possible and Sugimoto refuses his help rather than “kiss” him. . . is fighting Boutarou one on one that important to Sugimoto? That stubborn?

Either way, Sugimoto is about to get his ass handed to him and he’s saved by a school of sturgeon. He stabs his bayonet into one and it pulls him along with Boutarou holding onto him. He’s lucky that Boutarou’s flowing long hair gets sucked into the paddlewheel and he’s able to surface while Boutarou fights trying to not get sucked into the wheel.

Sugimoto then returns to rescue Boutarou by cutting off his hair caught in the wheel mechanism. We then get to see that Shiraishi is just being silly somewhere around the boat swimming around while the conflict ends.

Overall, this chapter was underwhelming for me. It puts Sugimoto at a great disadvantage and only by sheer luck is he able to not die. Asirpa first saves him and Shiraishi, Shiraishi then should have helped him - but he refused and then he’s saved by random sturgeon. On top of that he lucks out and has a chance to save Boutarou instead even though if it weren’t for his crazy luck, Boutarou would have drowned him.

All we see is that Shiraishi and Asirpa are hopelessly devoted to Sugimoto. I get that they are all friends but they are smarter than he is and much more clever and if he didn’t have them he’d be dead long ago in the quest for the gold.

It is clear that this chapter will end with Boutarou - owing Sugimoto for saving him, and likely force him into an alliance out of guilt.

Chapter 238 resolves the tension between Sugimoto and Boutarou as Shiraishi has to do the talking with the paddleboat captain. They make it clear that they were just looking for Boutarou, not wanting to rob the mail and that they really didn’t mean to damage the boat.

Almost out of nowhere, Sugimoto then declares to Boutarou that he should join forces with him. Sugimoto had decided to “keep on keeping on”. Even with new information from Boutarou, he wants to continue to collect the skins. Boutarou seems far to calm during their entire exchange - he first reasons Sugimoto saved him for information . . . and Sugimoto sticks to the skin collecting idea ans Boutarou makes it clear he doesn’t want to search for convicts and that he doesn’t believe in the code being real or useful to finding the gold.

Sugimoto’s entire rationale is based on the fact that Hijikata and Tsurumi are intelligent men and they are still collecting the skins so they must be correct. It is one hell of an assumption if I may so. Yes, we as the readers as well as Sugimoto know that Asirpa remembered the code words but as far as we know she has never revealed it to anyone yet. Tsurumi’s entire plan is focused on finding Asirpa since he knows she knows the code. It it would be likely that Tsukishima told Tsurumi that he thinks she knows it based on her confrontation with Ogata on the ice floe.

Hijikata likely still knows some information that he hasn’t revealed yet from his time in prison. He plays his cards close to his chest so I’m guessing if anyone in his group knows stuff it might be Nagakura and whatever Ogata has gleaned from him.

Shiraishi is concerned about Sugimoto’s alliance with Boutarou and wonders if Sugimoto’s emotions are clouding his judgement. The fact that Sugimoto doesn’t look Shiraishi in the eyes the entire time makes me think that Sugimoto does feel some sort of connection with Boutarou.

His face is shaded and his eyes are black - does he want another showdown with Boutarou in the future as survivors of terrible diseases of the late 19th century? Both men created similar coping mechanisms to their situations.

Whatever the reason, Boutarou agrees to work with Sugimoto. Sugimoto seems to think any information gained through torture would not be reliable. Does this imply that he wants to use this an out from torturing him? That torture is a line that he won’t cross? Tsurumi tortured him, but due to his crazy pain/physical violence tolerance, Sugimoto was able to babble about not helpful information. Or it was the fact that Sugimoto was caught red-handed to to speak by Tsurumi so it really wasn’t worth it saying anything useful to him.

Boutarou seems to think very seriously before he replies to Sugimoto - and then he completely changes to a playful reply as he pats him on the back and tells him that it was his sympathy that spared him from drowning under the paddleboat.

He then very confidently replies that he understands the conditions of their deal and he will reveal all of his information when they have collected all of the skins - that is the best insurance he has. Shiraishi almost immediately has issues with this deal as he thinks they may lose the gold to him and Asirpa accuses him of wanting the gold for himself.

They are able to meet up with Vasily on the small boat as they decide to continue down to Sapporo as a group. There is another chance for Asirpa’s Ainu 101 cooking class. She’s pleasantly surprised that he remembers the hooks from whaling and they are using the same concept to catch a sturgeon. She passive-aggressively cons Sugimoto into wanting to have some sturgeon.

Boutarou immediately inquires about Sugimoto’s relationship with Asirpa. This is clearly a replay of when Ogata joined their group and watched Asirpa interacting with Sugimoto in the marsh with the crane. Sugimoto hesitantly replies that she’s his guide. Boutarou doesn’t let him get off as easily as Ogata did with the “woman he loves” comment in regards to Umeko. Boutarou makes it abundantly clear that Sugimoto’s rage indicates she’s more than a guide. Asirpa doesn’t make eye contact but her ear is red indicating that she’s still got her crush on Sugimoto. A random guy connected that Sugimoto cares about her to his actions.

They are able to catch a sturgeon and they set up a fire allowing them to dry their clothing. This scene reminds me of when Kiro saved Shiraishi from the giant fish and they made a fire to dry off/warm up and eat some fish. Asirpa is excited that they caught a sturgeon that has eggs (caviar) and that she is thrilled to eat a brain again. They sit down to enjoy the caviar and more small talk follows. Sugimoto offers the eggs to Shiraishi and Vasily while Boutarou asks her about her love of brains. She excitedly replies about how all brains taste good with salt.

Boutarou pushes it though as he asks her to confirm that she likes sharing her favorite foods with someone she likes - ‘the person you like’. Again, she blushes with embarrassment and she shoves some fish eggs into his face. This is similar to her past feedings of Shiraishi, Sugimoto and Ogata. Meanwhile, Sugimoto and Shiraishi comment on how they are delicious with raw and go well with vodka.

Not surprisingly, despite all of this delicious food, there has been no “hinna hinna” from Asirpa. Really, it looks like Ogata’s use of “hinna hinna” has ruined the phrase for her even though I still think he said it in honestly towards her. With the fact that Ogata is a shit liar of course. When will Asirpa return to saying it? When she is reunited with Ogata over a meal?

What is clear is that Boutarou has figured out the relationship between Sugimoto and Asirpa pretty damn quickly. Shiraishi has commented on how this may be a bad idea. I’m going with a hunch that it will be a bad idea and that Boutarou may likely try to do something to separate the two of them or using Asirpa as a bargaining chip against Sugimoto.

With the mention of vodka, the action turns to a boat in the Otaru harbor. On it, Sophia is enjoying some fish eggs with vodka and her men. Oh Sofia! I have missed you so much! She’s back in the game and I’m stocked to see what will happen next. She clearly has enough men in her group that they will pose a threat to those involved in the quest for the gold. Furthermore, after drinking with her me she takes some time to drink by herself. She quietly looks a small photo, she thinks back to Hasegawa’s photo studio, and the fire in the kitchen. It reveals the photo that Hasegawa took fo them ans she clearly grabbed it before it was burnt in the fire that Tsurumi set to destroy his evidence.

It clearly shows Wilk, Kiro and herself before we get a close up on her very intense looking face. Based on her furrowed brow and down turned lips that are taught, I’d say she’s planning for revenge in for the death of both of them. She’s got a plan, she’s got men and she’s going to spring to action.

The chapter then shifts to Usami and Kikuta in Sapporo. They are both appear to be well dressed men in the red light district in search of our “jack the ripper” character. Usami is looking around a previous crime scene while Kikuta wonders if questioning other prostitutes would be are more useful avenue.

Recall, that Tsurumi paired these two up stating that Usami would have a special skill set in finding the convict. The next several pages have Usami masturbating at the crime scene as he tries to determine what would feel right for the killer while Kikuta watches on in shock and horror. Somehow using his magical masturbatory skills Usami is able to try to determine where the killer have gotten off to his crime.

After testing his hypothesis so to speak Usami ends up following his own ejaculate (I cannot believe I just typed that! thanks Noda!) to find the killer’s. Kikuta is rightly appalled, but Usami is far too into his detective work!

What is clear is that Usami and the killer both seem to get off on violence - he then proceeds to poke at the killer’s semen and tries to date it. At the same time Kikuta is horrified and is worried about him picking up a STI.

Usami declares that the killer returns to the scene of the crime to get off, so he predicts he will return that very night. Usami has rocked Kikuta to his core - he doesn’t believe it and he can only admit that he’s one hell of a semen detective. He also determines what Tsurumi meant by him being useful. This 100% makes sense since Tsurumi knows that Usami always returned to the scene of the crime; in regards to the loss of his killing virginity when he beat his “best” friend in judo. Kikuta is partly there, he only can conclude that Usami can think like the killer - what he doesn’t realize is that Usami 100% thinks the same way as the killer - as he is just the same as the killer.

It ends with Usami figuring things out one more time as Kikuta is still in shock. The chapter ends with the serial killer jerking himself off at the same place as Usami does the same thing to get into the “zone” to speak.

And with that the chapter dramatically ends with mutual masturbation of Usami and the unknown convict.

This chapter gives us a few main points.

1.) Boutarou reads people well - he almost immediately determines that Sugimoto sees Asirpa as a special person to protect like family. That Asirpa has a crush on Sugimoto and that Sugimoto likely isn’t quite aware of what it means. Shiraishi mentioning aligning themselves with Boutarou may be a mistake likely indicates to me it will be a mistake. Sugimoto never listens to Shiraishi . . . Boutarou will almost use Asirpa as a part of his plan in the future.

2.) Asirpa’s lack of “hinna hinna” continues. Yep, she just had some sturgeon brains, fish eggs and is back in her element of eating but no mention of her “hinna hinna”. The last time they said it was when she was with Ogata, Kiro and Shiraishi before they broke Sofia out of prison. This is a complicated ritual for her - did Ogata cheapen it for her? Or did she realize she doesn’t deserve to say it after she almost killed Ogata? Was Kiro’s death too much for her? She remembered the code with Sofia and his help but she was unable to do anything for him. She saw a possible fate being an Ainu fighting imperialism - keeping her habit of saying “hinna hinna” may be a reaction to all of the fallout.

3.) Sofia has a plan. No one has such a facial expression unless that character has a plan in mind. We know that Sofia is a capable and natural leader. She intends to end whatever it was that Wilk and Kiro started. Asirpa said that Sofia will find her when she needs to. With Sofia in Otaru she gets closer to the action. I can’t wait to see what happens and I want Sofia to chat with Ogata.

4.) Gross masturbation humor sells - or something. Usami is using his weird habit of linking violence to sexual pleasure to find the serial killer. I really don’t get this, but I’ll just roll with it. At least we got to see Kikuta as a well dressed man. I approve of Kikuta in nice clothing.

That’s all I’ve got for now. Stay safe people!

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy meta #sugimoto saichi #asirpa #Shiraishi Yoshitake #hijikata toshizo #tsurumi tokushirou #warrant officer kikuta #Usami Tokishige #sofia #tsukishima hajime #ogata hyakunosuke #wilk #kiroranke #boutarou the pirate

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to-be-a-dreamer · 4 years

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How to Predict the Villan in an MCU Movie

So I’ve been watching every movie in the MCU for the first time and was discussing it on discord with some friends (because yay social distancing).

Anyway, we were discussing how the colors of the infinity stones don’t really make sense. Like, the reality stone should have been white, or a light color, space should have been dark purple or blue, etc. Then I suggested that maybe it was just to set the tone. Like, the reality stone was red, which feels like something menacing and dark, as well as foreshadowing all the bloodshed that occurs in Thor: The Dark World.

Which led to this thought in my brain:

You can predict the villain with almost 100% accuracy based on their color scheme. Heroes have primary colors and villains have secondary colors.

Hear me out. I know it sounds ridiculous, but there are rules/exceptions, which I will address as we go along.

Iron Man (2008) The Iron Man suits are red and yellow/gold, which are primary colors. Iron Monger was blue in the comics, but this is where the first rule comes in. Rule #1: If a character is introduced with storytelling elements that show that they are very obviously a bad guy, they may have primary colors. Obadiah Shane is introduced as the typical “Number Two to a very powerful person who dies and doesn’t become CEO because the powerful person has a playboy son who doesn’t deserve it in Number Two’s mind” guy. He’s got the fake-somber look at Howard’s Stark’s death and is quite literally in Tony’s shadow while giving him a not-so-subtle evil glare.

The Incredible Hulk (2008) This is a fun one because Hulk is Green, which is a secondary color, but it’s symbolic in a couple ways. (This is one of those exceptions) 1) Banner sees the Hulk as a disease, a monster. To him, Hulk IS the villain of his story. It’s also a hint towards the real villain. 2) The actual villain is Abomination, who is basically just a large Hulk and also green.

Iron Man 2 (2010) The main villain is Ivan Vanko/Whiplash, who’s big entrance is in an orange jumpsuit. You could argue that Justin Hammer is the bad guy, but we know him from Iron Man 1.

Thor (2011) Thor gets red and Loki gets green. Enough said. I know it could be argued that Loki is a good guy, but I’m talking about just this movie. You see Loki in an all-green outfit, you know he’s going to do a bad. (Also, Hawkeye is introduced in this movie. His color scheme in the comic books is purple, but he’s on the “other side” in Thor, so it checks out.)

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) Cap’s suit is red and blue. I know Red Skull is, well, red, but this goes back to rule number one. Very obviously a villain. He’s a Nazi. Even the Joker doesn’t like working with the Nazis.

Marvel’s The Avengers (2012) Loki’s the villain again, and Thanos, who is purple, is behind it. We also introduce Black Widow here and her colors are RED and black. ALSO ALSO, who is the only Avenger who gets mind-controlled? Hawkeye, who is purple in the comics, black the entire time he’s with Loki, and gets maroon (dark red) accents once he’s back with the Avengers.

Iron Man 3 (2013) Killian’s power makes orangey fire.

Thor: The Dark World (2013) Kurse has a mostly black and white thing going on, but he does get some red here and there. But... Rule 1. The red looks like blood smears...

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) We get introduced to Falcon! Who’s main color besides silver is red. Also, I think Pierce falls under Rule 1.

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) Oh boy, this should be a fun one Okay: Star-Lord is red, he’s the main character, we’re supposed to like him, we’re supposed to root for him, cut and dry. Rocket is introduced with an orange outfit, Groot is greenish, and Gamora is Green. But they’re all introduced as Peter’s foes. They all become friends later on, but we’re supposed to be rooting for Peter right now. (Also Gamora’s hair is redish) Drax is grayish with red. Once they become a real team and wear matching outfits THEY. WEAR. RED. Yondu is blue, which may be a nod to the fact that he’s not really a bad guy. Ronan is blue, but this is where Rule Two comes into play! Rule #2: If a character truly believes they’re the good guys, they may have primary colors. (Based on self-awareness.) Ronan was finishing a 1,000 year war, upholding the traditions of his people, and avenging his family. Think’s he’s the good guy. Nebula being blue could be a nod to her loyalty shift later on in the story. I probably missed some, but let’s move on.

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) Scarlett Witch has red, Quicksilver has blue, Vision is red, blue, AND yellow. All of the primary colors. Ultron is red, but Rule #2: Ultron was fighting for his idea of peace.

Ant-Man (2015)

Ant-Man and Wasp suits are both red. Darren Cross mostly falls under Rule 1, but I think he was wearing a green tie.

Captain America: Civil War (2016) So, Zemo’s an interesting one. In the comics, he’s got a purple thing going on, but the MCU movie has him mostly wearing black. Maybe he had a Rule 1 kind of entrance, but I don’t really remember. Black Panther is also weird because his aesthetic is purple, but he’s kind of trying to kill Bucky in this movie so.... Maybe misdirect? Maybe? Spiderman is red and blue, nothing new there. Doctor Strange (2016) Doctor Strange is red and blue. (The Eye of Afamotto is green, but I think it represents how it could cause evil if in the wrong hands, as well as the choice Stephen has to make to consciously do something good with such a powerful item. Kaecillius is a combination of Rules one and two. We are directly told he’s a villain and there’s no doubt with the way he is introduced. He’s also doing what he’s doing in order to learn more about the mystic arts and all that good stuff. Aaaaand Dormammu is purple. Yeah, ‘nuff said.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017) Ego’s outfit has greenish undertones, especially when he reveals he killed Peter’s mother. He also sees nothing wrong with his actions and is allowed to have touches of primary colors, but everything has touches of green here and there. (Again with the Yondu is blue thing.) Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) Vulture is green! I know that’s short, but there’s not much else to it.

Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Guess what? Hela has a green color scheme.

Black Panther (2018) Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Okay, yeah, Black Panther is one of the exceptions to this rule. You could say that since T’Chaka and Erik are both the Black Panther and make mistakes for the greater good, it’s a symbol of the mistakes past Black Panthers have made. And T’Challa has to overcome those mistakes with the same name? They also both believe they’re doing the right thing? I dunno, Black Panther is just an exception movie since everything in it is just SO colorful.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) Yeah, Thanos is Purple. That’s about it. Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018) Ghost is white with red eyes but mostly falls under rule one. (I think the energy blast that created her was orange, but don’t quote me on that.) Captain Marvel (2019) Despite the fact that I can never decide if I like this movie or not, this one is the most fun with this theory. The Kree uniforms are green while the Skrulls are blue, which gives you a hint that the Kree are actually the bad guys. And when Carol changes her uniform SHE CHANGES IT TO RED, BLUE, AND YELLOW/GOLD. Avengers: Endgame (2019) Oh, this one’s really hard no it isn’t, Thanos is still purple. Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019) So, Mysterio’s costume is red and blue because he’s trying to look heroic. BUT his magic smoke stuff is green. This is the first movie I watched after figuring this out and I immediately did not trust Mysterio. (I’m a sheltered preacher’s kid and these movies are my only experience with Marvel.)

This mostly works with the MCU, but a few other series as well.

One my friend brought up was the Grinch. He’s green, obviously. But! He does start out as the villain and only becomes a good guy when his heart grows. What color is his heart? RED.

Only Harry Potter house with a reputation for being evil? SLYTHERIN. Only Hogwarts house who’s color ISN’T a primary color? SLYTHERIN.

So.... yeah, don’t trust characters who’s outfits are mostly secondary colors.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk: An Introduction to Color Theory in Modern Film

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bananashemmo · 5 years

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Meningitis

Pairing: Y/N/Ex-husband!Ashton

Rating: All (But this can get a little angsty)

Request: No

Words: 4.500+

Summary: Ashton flies all the way from London to Sydney in a rush to support his ex-wife because their son is admitted to the hospital diagnosed with meningitis.

With folded fingers and eyes focusing on the careful breathing coming from the white sheets, you held in your own and closed your eyes.

It was the feeling of wanting to scream and shout. Do something to give the feeling of actually doing something about the situation. Sitting in here felt like a prison, like you couldn’t escape the four walls.

Your eyes glanced towards your son Daniel, his fragile small body almost covered in the puddle of his sheet and tubings. His eyes were peacefully closed and blocked out from the terrifying situation he was suddenly put into.

You honestly couldn’t believe your own eyes.

“I’m here, I’m here.” The door burst open with a panting Ashton barely letting go of the door handle, his chest heaving up and down and his eyes searching for results.

You stood up from your chair quickly and tried not to cry. It was just as if reality hit you hard the second Ashton was pulled into the nightmare.

“Oh my god.”

Ashton was still holding onto the boarding pass from his airplane flight. It was crumbled between his long fingers and his gaze was directly pointed towards the hospital bed.

Any other moment than this you would scold at him. Not for one but many things. It was moments like these that you needed him the most. Not because you weren’t strong enough, but because your son needed both his parents in a time like this.

He let go of the door handle and approached the room. It had been quiet, the only source of sounds came from the monitor that proved that his heart was still beating. But it was slow and almost quiet. Sometimes if you closed your eyes, you couldn’t point out what was loudest.

That, or your own heart pacing for your life.

You held onto the brown bunny that was seeming to be the only thing keeping you from crashing something between your fingers. It didn’t have a name but when Daniel was younger he called it Michael.

Simply because he had gotten it from his favorite uncle.

Ashton ran a hand through his hair, the curly mess sticking to his fingers but he pulled so hard he didn’t mind ripping out pieces of his hair. He could feel his heart race as well and he looked over at you for answers.

“It’s not looking good.” You whispered below a breath.

You didn’t want to act mad at him. It didn’t make sense in a time like this but without control of emotions. You just couldn’t. You were angry, you were frustrated but with a feeling of deep sorrow.

You could compare it to a hole in your heart. The one thing that was holding it together was fighting for his own life. You couldn’t even feel his presence in the room if it wasn’t for the fact that the heart monitor was still going on.

“I talked to him on the phone yesterday, I was FaceTiming him-,” Ashton didn’t know how to finish his sentence. He was stumbling over his words.

“He said he just had a small headache and sore in his neck. I just assumed it was from swimming, he said he had been jumping on the low side again and hit the bottom.”

You quivered an eyebrow because Daniel had left out that information yesterday after his swimming practice. You shrugged off the thought and held the bunny closer to your heart.

“You’re sure it’s meningitis?”

You didn’t know what to answer. You weren’t a doctor, you couldn’t point out a statement without knowing if it was true or not.

You just didn’t want to state something at all. You couldn’t say out loud that something was wrong because that meant you had to face reality. You weren’t ready for that yet.

Just not yet.

Ashton walked closer to the bed and shrugged his hand over the white sheets. His eyes were searching desperately for his son’s, they looked identical. The same hazel effect with a hint of green. Sometimes you swore you looked into the eyes of Ashton when speaking to your son.

He was about to ask another question when the door to the hospital room opened.

“Ashton, this is Dr. Darren. He’s been helping Daniel since we arrived this morning.” You introduced and the doctor moved his hand out from his pocket to greet Ashton.

“The father, I assume.” Dr. Darren gave Ashton a second look and he nodded his head in agreement.

“I came as fast as I could,” Ashton spoke in purely honest and watched the doctor head towards the monitor. He needed to make checkups, he came every twenty minutes to see Daniel’s statement.

“Has your ex-wife explained to you about meningitis?” He asked and Ashton shook his head.

“Are you sure it’s me-,”

“The tests were positive.” Dr. Darren answered Ashton’s question before he could finish it.

Ashton’s lips folded together and he blinked twice looking over at his son. Suddenly, it was as if reality hit him. You were still standing in denial by the end of the bed.

“No, I don’t know much about meningitis,” Ashton answered defeated, placing his hands in his back pockets and had trouble keeping his eye contact with Dr. Darren.

“Meningitis is an inflammation of the membranes surrounding your brain and spinal cord. The swelling from meningitis typically triggers symptoms such as headache, fever and a stiff neck. Most cases of meningitis are caused by a viral infection, but bacterial, parasitic and fungal infections are other causes.”

“And in English?” Ashton didn’t want to come off as rude but his emotions were being torn and played with. He wasn’t the one in control of it and he felt as if he was a puppet with threads.

“Ashton.” You scolded at him quietly.

He glanced over at you, not knowing what else to say and glanced over at the doctor. He never wanted to be rude. That wasn’t like him.

Dr. Darren sighed with a sad smile. He experienced this every single day. It came with the job, some times things were happy and sometimes he brought work with him home.

“Your son has a dangerous disease which needs to be treated with antibiotics. It’s an infection in his brain which can cause various injuries if not treated in time. We’ve been giving him antibiotics since this morning when they came from their own personal doctor, but so far we can’t see the future problems.”

Ashton looked at him with serious eyes, trying to understand what was going on. He had heard about the disease before, but only on the occasions where the antibiotics had been giving too late.

“What are the percent chances?” He asked with his fingers folded and glanced over at you for a second.

He glanced back at the doctor, waiting for an answer. Dr. Darren sighed.

“Bacterial meningitis is a dangerous disease which, untreated, has a very high mortality rate, almost 100 percent. Despite the best possible treatment, 5-15 percent of the disease still dies, as the disease may develop very rapidly in some cases.”

Not the words Ashton needed to hear. He could see on your face it wasn’t a question you had asked previously. It was hard to hear those words come out from his mouth.

“In addition, 10-15 percent get severe injuries and sequelae such as amputation, epilepsy or significant hearing loss. However, if the first critical day is over, the prognosis is very good, and most of the people get out of their way.”

“You heard that,” Ashton looked over at you softly, “That are the notes we need to stick to the surface. We can’t believe in positivity if we go after the negative right away.”

You nodded your head slowly and placed your hand on the top of the sheets. You just wished that you could feel a bit of movement.

Usually, Daniel hated when you would be touching his calves. Whether it was ‘mom disease’ or just the fact that he was very ticklish you didn’t know.

“Right now his condition is stable but I can’t promise anything when he wakes up. We’ve been trying to balance pain killers with a bit of morphine just to take away the pain he was suffering from.” Dr. Darren took a look at his papers just to make sure nothing was missed.

“I will be back in the next twenty minutes. I think one of our nurses will show up to give another round of antibiotics.”

“Thank you.” You smiled gently at Dr. Darren the best you could. It was with a cut through your heart and the second he was out of the door, the corners of your mouth turned down.

You sighed so heavily you could feel it from your toes and your stomach. This was harder than anything else you had gone through.

This was harder than giving birth.

Ashton moved closer to the bed and sad on the other side from where you were sitting. He looked like someone who had a million thoughts racing but his mouth was shut close.

“I know you’re really mad at me but this was not something I couldn’t predict.”

You didn’t know you should roll your eyes by his start of a conversation. It was already going downhill.

“You left for an 8 months length tour. Traveling through Asia, Europe, and the states. No, you couldn’t predict that bad luck would suddenly hit our family and that’s not what I’m mad about.”

“What is it then?” He asked desperately but continued to have a calm voice. He didn’t want to lash out after you when you were most vulnerable.

“I’m angry that you left him. You know he loves you more than everything-,”

“I asked him to come with me and you said no.” Ashton quickly interrupted you causing you to widen your eyes.

“You wanted your eight-year-old son to travel with you across the world and skip his school? Skip his swim classes, skip all his friends and family, not just mine but also yours living here in Sydney? Of course, he was going to say yes because all he wanted to do was to be with his father. But that wasn’t the right decision and I had to step in because you couldn’t face reality.”

You didn’t want to cry, you had been holding in the whole day but seeing Ashton here woke up so many memories. It was like you went from 50 to 90.

“He barely spoke to me for a whole week, Ashton. I felt as if he hated me. Because I was the evil mom who wouldn’t let him travel with his father. The bad mom knowing that staying home would be best for his development and life.”

Ashton looked at you by every word that came from your mouth. He could see how your voice was ready to crack and your heart was pacing quicker.

You looked over at Daniel with shiny eyes, deciding that it was not the time for crying. You could still hold it in. You didn’t need Ashton to crack you now.

“I’m sorry.” He looked at you sincerely but you shook your head.

“I’m not the one you should tell sorry.”

You glanced back at Daniel and leaned over to grab his hand. Just so carefully and you looked down at the venflon. He wore a hand glove over it, the typical one that was white and blue like a net.

He hated needles. You were so happy that he wasn’t going through the pain because he was already in and out of sleep. It made it so much easier because one thing was being a mom through hard times.

Seeing your son in pain was the worst.

He had barely noticed he was wearing it when he woke up during lunch. He didn’t seem to be awake though, he moved like a zombie. You almost couldn’t recognize him.

“Remember the last time he wore that?” Ashton asked and you nodded your head silently.

“Luke’s idea. Still probably the biggest regret.” You shook your head in disbelief by the memory.

Last time you were at the hospital with Daniel was when he was four. It was Luke’s idea of going to one of the highest mountains in LA and going on the sled. It was a mistake though that you let him use the sled on his own. When Luke pushed him he crashed right into a tree and broke his arm.

“It literally took us an hour to calm him down before getting the venflon into his veins,” Ashton remembered back and folded his hands together.

“He just hates needles. I’m not looking forward to his 12-year vaccine.” You mumbled and Ashton chuckled sadly.

You both sat in silence for a minute, attention towards the door when it opened.

“Oh my, Y/N. You still haven’t left the room?” The nurse looked at you with worried eyes.

You shook your head silently and ignored Ashton’s eyes. He did that when he was worried and especially when he was worried about you.

“For how long have you been sitting here?” The nurse was named Sandra, she looked at the both of you with worried eyes. She smiled gently at Ashton and shook his head, realizing he was an unfamiliar face.

“Since we arrived at ten. I’m impressed you are here too, shouldn’t your shift be over by now.”

“Yes, I should have left when we switched shifts at 6 p.m but I took an extra. Sometimes stories like these come closer to our hearts. I just need to be here until you are released from the hospital. You know, I usually say this to the patients that they need to eat. But you haven’t touched anything and I can still see the glass of water I served you this morning.”

You eyes glanced towards the glass and you sunk deeper into the bed.

“I’m just not thirsty.” You mumbled, looking down at the sheets and fiddled with it between your fingers.

“You haven’t been drinking or eating since morning?” Ashton looked at you almost in disbelief, his tone nice.

He looked up at the nurse in confusion and she nodded her head silently. She couldn’t force you to do to anything but you’d admit you had been very stubborn about leaving the room.

“It would be a great idea if you guys went for a walk. Just to get some fresh air or stretch your legs. It sometimes helps on the thoughts. Maybe a glass of water.” The nurse looked over at Ashton, sincerely hoping that he could convince you.

“I’m not going anywhere as long as he is sleeping. I need to be here when he wakes up.” You were trying to sound strong but your voice came off weak.

Ashton folded his hands together and moved them up to his mouth in thought.

He looked back at the nurse trying to come up with some sort of idea.

“Y/N, please.” He almost pleaded, “You need to eat something.”

“I promise you, I will be in here until you come back. If something happens, you will be the first one I call.” The nurse joined Ashton’s convincement.

You looked between them both with folded lips. You felt torn between being glued to the bed and standing up. You didn’t know if you were going to regret it, but deep down you knew it was a good idea.

“Okay,” You mumbled carefully and moved up from the bed.

Ashton smiled carefully. He was happy that you agreed to and he stood up from the bed as well.

“You promise me?” You looked over at the nurse daringly. The smallest thing could ruin your trust and you did not want to go through that.

She nodded her head and Ashton placed a hand gently on your back to follow you out of the room. Normally you would have shrugged him off but the feeling of his hand reminded you of home.

You walked out on the quiet hallway where only unused beds with plastic covering them stood placed. You could hear someone talk from down the hallway, it came from the office where they received calls.

It had become late at night which meant visitor hours were over but being on the children’s ward, parents were allowed to stay. They even agreed to give you a bed if you weren’t released before midnight.

You stopped in track when you walked past the waiting room. It was filled with navy blue empty chairs, you compared them to the same as in the airports. There was a large floor to ceiling window which showed the city.

So many beautiful city lights but nothing was appreciated tonight.

When you came down to the first floor and outside where a water foundation was standing, you could release the pain that was going through your veins.

“Do you know you’re the strongest woman I know?” Ashton said carefully and shrugged off his jacket.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You shook your head and looked at him gently when he placed his jacket over your shoulders.

So many lights came from the hospital you didn’t need lights from the streetlamps.

“I honestly feel like I need a cigarette.”

“But you’ve never had a cigarette in your life?” Ashton reminded and leaned his back against the brick wall.

“Maybe I should start. I think it could help with my stress.” You ran a hand through your hair.

You didn’t have a count of how many times you had done that today. It had been pulled and pulled, mixed between being in a bun and not.

“Not after how many drunken times you’ve tried to convince Calum it was a bad habit.” He mentioned and you looked him tiredly.

He was having that look on his face where you knew you couldn’t get past him until you were feeling okay. He knew he couldn’t change the situation you were in. It was hell, it was hurtful but he tried his best to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What did the boys say?” You scratched your arm carefully and looked down at the ground. The tiles were shiny, you were surprised that even outside the hospital everything was clean.

“They understood the situation. There wasn’t even a discussion. The second I mentioned something happened to Daniel, Luke already found my suitcase and helped me pack. Before I could look over my shoulder one of the managers fixed a plane ticket to Sydney.”

You nodded your head silently and watched him continue.

“I think everyone in the world would understand my situation. I know there are still 23 shows left but they are either going to be canceled or done without me. I bet if they asked a collab from All Time Low they could probably help them out to fill my spot. I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere until we know that Daniel is feeling alright.”

Ashton licked his lips and looked down at the ground as well. He was a hard time looking at you for some reason.

“How have you been?”

The question seemed dumb, Ashton could tell when it slipped past his lips. He wished he could take the question back when you looked at him with dark eyes.

“I’m a single mother trying to give my son the best life possible. Sometimes I wonder if he feels like he doesn’t have a father.” You leaned down to stand against the brick wall with your knees bent.

Ashton’s mouth twisted into a sad mine and he scratched his arm, “You don’t think he feels like that, do you?”

You looked up at him from having your knees between your legs, “Put yourself into his position and give me the answer when you’ve thought about it. I’m sure it makes sense when you reconsider the situation.”

“I talk to him almost every single day.” Ashton didn’t want to use it as an excuse but neither did he want you to accuse him of doing literally nothing.

“You know Daniel. You know he is a security addict. He needs someone close to him to know that they love him and won’t leave him behind. Don’t you remember when he was younger and the only thing he wanted was you? I couldn’t do anything right. Not even if I was the one breastfeeding him, he still wanted to be in your safe arms!”

You shook your head in disbelief and folded your lips together.

“I just can’t believe that this happened to him. He’s so full of life and wants to do something positive every single day. If he reminds me of someone, he reminds me of you. Wants to explore every single part of himself and the world. It’s just too early for him to leave. I don’t and won’t allow him to be a part of 15%.”

Ashton’s jaw clenched and he took in every word you said. He understood you were having a hard time. After the divorce, he had sleepless nights wondering how you were feeling.

“Ashton,” You looked up at him with shiny eyes.

“I’m about to break.”

At first, he furrowed his eyebrows, not knowing how to handle your statement. He assumed you had said it a couple of times today but then his eyes widened.

“Ashton, I’m breaking.” You hiccupped and moved your hands up to your face to cover it.

It took him less than a second to wrap his long arms around your form and pull you close. His heart was probably pounding as fast as yours was, but he pushed his feelings aside to be there for you.

You held onto his shirt as if life depended on it, letting the tears float without worrying about everything else around you.

You needed the feeling of comfort and even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, the only one who could truly comfort you would be Ashton.

He stood up from the ground with you and wrapped his hand in your hair. Carefully shrugging his hand up and down in comfort, while whispering soft words that were going to calm you down.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise you.” He moved away when you calmed down and placed his hands on your cheeks.

“You just have to trust me, okay. It’s going to be okay.”

You whimpered and looked into his eyes. It did in fact help to calm you down and you closed your eyes. Just thinking for a second and trying to compose yourself.

You felt vibrations from your phone and you quickly rushed to rip it out from your pocket.

“It’s Sandra, Daniel’s nurse.” You looked up at him with wide eyes and his lips parted.

“She says we need to come urgently.”

Ashton didn’t need to hear you finish the sentence to know what was going on. He grabbed your hand and had a direction towards the entrance to the hospital.

“Run.”

You could barely keep up with his long legs. Ashton was running so fast you needed to hold his hand just to make sure he wouldn’t escape from you. It felt like the quickest trip to the 11th floor and when you almost crashed into the door to Daniel’s hospital room, Ashton had to place his hands on your hip.

“What’s going on?” You rushed into the room and scanned for the nurse.

Your mouth opened agape and Ashton almost knocked himself into your back when you stopped walking.

He didn’t understand why you had stopped up but that was when his eyes adverted towards the bed where Daniel was sitting up in the bed with a glass of water.

“Daniel?” You had to ask out loud just to make sure this was real.

He didn’t look fully fresh but at least he was awake. He had tired eyes, no wonder but he smiled when he saw both you and Ashton here.

“He’s awake. We just checked his system and monitors. He doesn’t need more antibiotics treatments.”

“You mean he’s cured?” Ashton asked to be sure and Sandra nodded her head in agreement.

“If you want to stay for the night you’re allowed to just for extra checks but if you want to go home you’re also allowed to do that. We just have to take one last blood example in 15 minutes.”

You nodded your head in agreement but your eyes weren’t on her. They were on Daniel and he was smiling towards you.

“Mom, I’m feeling much better than I did this morning.” He explained and you nodded your head in agreement.

“I’m so happy to hear that.” You took a seat down by the end of the bed and grabbed his hand. The one with the venflon and his eyes widened when he noticed it.

“I’ve been wearing this all day?” He asked and you laughed.

“Yes, Mrs. Sandra make a great job putting it on without you noticing.” You smiled over your shoulder where Sandra was standing, holding onto her papers with a satisfied smile.

“I’ll leave you to decide.” She started to back away and walked out of the room.

“Dad?” Daniel had to ask when he looked over at Ashton who seemed both relieved but at the same time guilty.

“Hey, bud. I missed you.” Ashton took a seat on the opposite side of you and placed his hand on the sheets.

“I missed you too.” Daniel almost whispered and looked down at the sheets.

You looked between them with furrowed eyebrows. You could tell Daniel was bothered by something.

“Are you leaving if we drive home? Because then I want to stay here for the night.”

It almost killed Ashton to hear those words. His eight-year-old son really knew how to hit him in the feels where it hurt. He folded his hands together and with a small smile, he shook his head.

“I promise you, I won’t leave you for weeks.”

“But dad, you can’t cancel your tour.” Daniel shook his head but Ashton was settled with his decision.

“I can do everything I want as long as my son feels happy. Besides, FaceTime can never beat this feeling.” He carefully caressed Daniel on the arm and smiled when he looked ecstatic.

“Can you live with mom and me? I won’t allow you to stay at a hotel.”

Ashton’s lips parted and he looked over at you with wide eyes.

“Mom, you can’t say no this is dad! You’ve been married before, it shouldn’t be weird for you to live together. He can sleep on the floor next to me if needed.”

You couldn’t help but giggle by Daniel trying to convince you. He sounded pretty fresh all of the sudden considering the late hours.

“I think we can make a few agreements and readjustments.” You nodded your head with a smile, feeling goosebumps appear on your arms by Daniel’s excited cheer.

You looked over at Ashton with blushed cheeks, mouthing a ‘thank you’ without Daniel noticing.

Ashton roamed in the seat and leaned his other arm forward to grab your hand, holding it carefully and looked back at Daniel who was starting to spill stories.

He promised it was going to be okay and you looked between them both with a smile that couldn’t compare to anything else.

Everything is okay.

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validatio-n · 4 years

Text

Dying To Live

I first met death when I was very young. I didn’t know what it was, and it never really took a form until I was around 16. I quietened his voice like we all try do to at the start, by ignoring it, partying, or seeking validation from people who don’t deserve you to glance in their direction.

It appeared as though the demons in my head I feebly tried to still had noticed what I tried to do, and they were angry. The thoughts I had of worthlessness, insignificance, unlovability and self-loathing festered from a light, continual hum that I learnt to deal with, to something likened to when you plug your headphones in and the volume is turned up the whole way. You get such a fright and rip the headphones out of your ear. Except with me, I can’t rip them out of my ear. For a long time, I couldn’t even turn the volume down. For 24 hours a day, even in sleep, no matter who I was with or what I was doing, I constantly had this music in my ears telling me I was nothing, I was no one, I was ugly and I deserved everything that had happened to me. Sure, a lot of the time it wasn’t blaring loud and sometimes I barely noticed it, but after years of trying to fight off that voice, you begin to accept it. You begin to believe it, and it becomes a natural part of your everyday life.

Once that’s happened, you’ve successfully opened yourself up for Death to manifest him self in your body. He will creep in and start slow, so you don’t notice him planting seeds in your mind that he watches grow, spreading a thick black toxic throughout your body, turning your blood to poison and your skin to ice. You’re trapped, your body doesn’t feel like your own. You pinch at your skin in disgust and dream of hacking away your non-existent fat with a meat cleaver. Slicing your arms like you’re playing the violin and staring at the blood rushing out even if the mere thought of blood makes you queasy. You’ll wonder, although you’ve gone through some shit, why you are so fucking sad. You’ll wonder why people did what they did to you, how they did what they did to you. You’ll go to the doctors and you’ll get diagnosed and you’ll go through the therapy and you’ll use your support systems and you’ll swear you’re going to beat this sadistic fuck that is depression and anxiety and panic disorder and night terror (Death, in other words), and some days, you believe you will. But when its 3am and its you and Death lying in your tear-soaked bed, Death is the only one there for you.

He’s telling you how you’re going to hurt yourself to feel better. He’s saying it’s going to take the pain away; it’s going to make you have the best sleep ever with no nightmares and no panic attacks. Hurting yourself will make you in control again, he’s saying one scratch won’t do any damage, just try it, see how it feels to inflict physical pain to quash the mental pain. You know the mental pain is your brain playing tricks on you. You know it’s a chemical imbalance. You know the anxiety and the PTSD is from your past relationships. You know Death isn’t actually sitting next to you, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel it, because at this time you don’t even know that it’s Death you’re dealing with. Your rational side is gone. You’re sitting in a room where oxygen has turned into a venomous gas that you’re breathing in as you hyperventilate and choke as it constricts your airways.

He watches you as you pull out a shitty pink razor, the crappy ones that you get angry at your mum for buying because you can’t get a good shave with them. Upon looking at it, you’re glad she bought the shit ones because the quality ones would be way too hard to pry open. He’s looking at you, salivating, telling you to pick apart the razor, its easy, just get a knife, wedge it in and flick up the top bit of plastic. Your hands don’t feel like your own. It feels like somebody is controlling your brain making your body move, yet you don’t stop it. Like a puppet on a string. Death doesn’t get angry when you look at yourself in the mirror, sobbing as you can’t even manage to take apart a fucking razor. He watches you throw it across your bedroom full of photos of you and your girlfriends, you and your mum, you and your boyfriends. Your little white cat gets a fright as the razor smashes against the wall and falls behind your dresser. He says in a voice so sweet yet condescending that it’s okay to be so pathetic. He watches you slide the knife under your bed. He holds you in his ice cold arms as you curl up in bed, shaking, crying, nauseous over the fact that you almost cut yourself. Death is with you as the immense loneliness washes over you, suffocating you between sobs. Death rocks you to sleep with a smile on his face, because those seeds he planted are growing, and it’s only a matter of time until they blossom.

You wake up.

You scared yourself.

You reach out to friends, therapists, family. You promise yourself you’re never going to get that close to doing something so stupid again. And you don’t. Death is gone, you’ve beaten him.

For a while.

You haven’t beaten death. You haven’t softened his voice. Sure, he wasn’t prominent in the whole ‘slice your arm into pieces’ front, but rest assured, death was still floating around your room. He’s looking through all your stuff, watching you sleep as he dips in and out of your brain, learning as much about you as he can, feeding toxic sludge to your mind as you’re unaware. Sleep paralysis. Death is smart. He knows he hasn’t worn you down enough to hurt yourself. He knows how to manifest himself in his prey and seep poison into their minds until they have been manipulated and tortured enough to snatch up and take with his mouth wide open, pupils wide, ready to swallow whole as he drags your lifeless body bloody and limp through the realms until he dumps you next to the millions of others who’ve succumbed to the disease. You haven’t gotten away that easily. It’s a waiting game now.

In the orchestral catastrophe that is depression, this was the intermission. The entertainment during this time can be called anorexia.

Death renders you weaker than you know. Anxiety grows so alarmingly fast that your appetite is reduced to practically nothing. You become intolerant to your own body. This is ok, because you’re not cutting yourself. It’s okay, because it isn’t deliberate. You repeat this to yourself over and over as you revel in the bruises that appear on the inside of your knees from trying to sleep on your side; the bones crushing in to each other. You repeat this to yourself as you watch in awe at your ribcage expand and deflate as you inhale and exhale. You can see where your rib was cracked by the hands of those who vowed to never hurt you, by those who vowed to fix you. Your skin stretched tight over protruding bones fascinate you for hours as you trace your fingers over your body in a trance like state of wonder.

You’re hungry, and it’s not for food.

Then, it becomes deliberate.

You’ve always been skinny regardless of what you ate. You’ve loved your body. Never hesitant to run around half naked no matter who was around or where you were. Not provocatively, not attention seeking, just comfortable. Your body was your safeguard. Compliments came naturally, envy was apparent. Then your mind wanders and you think to yourself I wonder what people would say if I lost just a little more weight. And then the floodgates open, and like a tidal wave crashing through an entire city Death whooshes in, appearing in the mirror behind you, his claws on your shoulders, smiling down at you like an old friend you hadn’t seen in years.

If you were just a little bit skinner, you wouldn’t be sad. You’d be beautiful.

Death knew it was time now. He didn’t tell you to say this. You thought this on your own.

30 degree summer nights lying on your side under a European cotton sheet, you feel your thighs touching. Your eyes well up with tears. You are sickened, disgusted. You want to scream, you want to vomit, you want to punch yourself. You sneak out the window of your family home and you run laps of the park you used to walk your golden retriever or smoke weed with your friends, doing cartwheels and rolling around the grass without a care in the world. You run laps until you nearly pass out and limp home at 3am in the fucking morning. The panic attacks return because all your eating is an apple a day with some almonds and a black coffee. You’re jacked up on caffeine that your already shaky hands shake even more. You can’t look people in the eye. You look sick. You want to stop but you can’t. You need your hip bones to poke holes in your lace underwear. You want to be able to hold water in the crevice that appears between your collarbones and shoulders when you shrug.

The results come fast and you love it, you’re an addict who is itching for a little bit more. You’ve never felt the way you feel when you step on the scales and its lower than it was before. The comments people made feed your addiction. The alarm you sense from them as they hug you elates you like getting another fix. You and Death are a team now, he cheers you on and tells you how strong you are for not eating the cake, or saying no to the chips, or making excuses to your friends at dinner as to why you’re not eating. Dinner at home. Already ate. Fasting for a blood test. You knew ‘too poor’ would never work as they’d just pay for you. You have an app on your phone that you log all your calories and exercise in to. 500 a day maximum and you must burn off at least 100 more calories than you consumed that day.

You’re in control of your body. For a short window of time, you were in control of most of your emotions and feelings, too. You felt powerful. You felt happy. You’re never hungry and when you are you know how to burn it off. But then you take it too far. You become so thin that people start to notice. You look like a bobble head with your head too big for your body, your jaw bone looking like it could cut ice. Doctors’ appointments start because your body isn’t working properly. They weigh you and they know the tricks you think you’re a genius for. They know you’d have loaded up on salty food. They’ll know you drank so much water you almost threw up before hand. They’ll check your pockets. Hair down because you can’t hide anything that can contribute to the scale reading. By the end of it you have to strip off completely. Scared parent, scared family, scared friends forcing you to eat, and you would, because they have to believe that this isn’t deliberate. You can’t get admitted. You’d eat to shut them up and you’d become such a good fucking liar. You would laugh and joke and talk about anything while you were eating. You would be having fun. Then you’d be alone again with your hatred for yourself. Hatred that you were too pathetic to be bulimic because of your fear of vomit. Hatred of food. Hatred of yourself.

You weren’t alone though, were you? You know who was sitting right next to you, holding your feet down as you did as many sit ups as you could until your spine was bruised. Then the star jumps until you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Then the push ups. Then the laxatives. Then you felt better.

You were skinny. You were beautiful.

But were you?

Your hair was falling out. Your lips were white. Your skin was yellowing. You’re constantly cold. Your body wasn’t functioning properly. You lost your period. You don’t care. You’re skinny.

Then you’re happy again. You’re hi fiving death. You’ve done it. You felt skinny enough.

But there lies the issue itself, it’s never enough. It’s never ‘done.’

‘You can’t stop now, you have to maintain this or else you’ll put on weight again and you won’t be beautiful,’ death would say, and you know he’s right. Then comes the fear.

Food scares you. Going out to eat scares you. You are so afraid of eating and losing your progress that you don’t realise that Death has crawled back to his original spot in your brain and he’s beginning to untie all his puppet strings, preparing your brain for his next act of torment as the intermission concludes and the music starts again, sinister and slow. His malevolent eyes so eager to consume your soul, fangs salivating with the blood you’re about to draw from your wrists. You’re exercising too much with no food which causes you both physical and mental exhaustion. Couple this with the partying on the weekends and you’ve lost the game. You’re as good as dead, and at this rate you will be soon.

The sadness comes creeping back in as you lie in your bed at night, hunched on your side clutching at your ribs letting out slow sobs as you beg the pain to ease. You cry and you cry and you don’t even know what the fuck you’re crying for. You cry for the father that never loved you and spat such venomous words at you that you didn’t want to exist anymore. You cry for the men that threw beer bottles at your head and bruised your oesophagus choke slamming you against a wall rendering you as good as speechless for a week. You cry for the people you loved most cheating on you with your best friend, cheating on you with everyone. You cry for the lies, the betrayal, the drink spiking, the hitting, the screaming, the drugs taken behind your back, for the fact you can’t trust anyone. Abortion. Abuse. Agony. You cry because you’re confused. You cry because no one knows that you’re feeling this way. You cry because you’ve never felt so alone. You cry because you realise that you just don’t want to be here anymore. You cry because you know you need to hurt yourself. You cry because you know that Death was right, it will make you feel better. It does.

You remembered where the shitty pink razor you threw across the room a year or so back landed and you float to your dresser, reaching behind it and grasp the razor, its handle dethatched from the smash against the wall. You feel for the knife under your bed – you remember the one it was, with a red handle, your mum’s been looking for it for a while. You usher your precious cat out of your room, she doesn’t need to see this, as you sit cross legged on your bed. The crying has stopped. You’re focused. Your fingers feel like they’re being controlled as you pry apart the three blades from the plastic. You slip and get a cut on your thumb but that’s okay, you wipe a tear that’s escaped, and you keep trying. It takes a little while.

Then, the softest, most delicate and angelic metal chime rings in your ears as the plastic flies off and the three blades clink together, falling lightly onto your thigh.

You’ve done it.

Ever so carefully you pick one up and examine it for about half a second before you’re holding it against your left wrist. This is the arm you started on. The world has stopped spinning, there is no sound except for your breathing that went from erratic and irregular to slow and steady. You press down lightly and slide it across your wrist.

It stings. Death is holding you, stroking your hair. He is so proud.

Small bubbles of bright red blood surface. It’s pretty. You feel light. Dizzy, but not sick dizzy. You feel tired, really, really tired. You don’t feel overwhelmed anymore, you feel numb. Disconnected from anything that isn’t the small sting and the red bubbles coming from your wrist. You want that feeling again, so you slice four more little cuts across the plethora of vital veins that run so dangerously close to the surface of your skin. You wrap your arm in a tea towel and put a hair scrunchie over the top of it. Light, superficial cuts that heal quickly. It’s not even bad. You sleep, wrapped up in Deaths’ arms as he rocks you back and forth into dreams that he is controlling. Vivid dreams of your childhood, when you were 6 years old wearing matching floral pyjamas in New Zealand with your entire family. Your mum and dad are together. Your grandma’s there. Your brother is there. Relatives you don’t even know now are there. You dream of the purple and yellow bubble machine you got. The entire dream is you running barefoot on the grass in those pyjamas, making bubbles for everyone. You smile in your sleep.

Flash forward a couple of months and you’re a veteran. No more little scratches. These are scary fucking cuts that will scar your body forever and you don’t give a fuck. Why should you, you deserve this pain. You are so twisted and sick that the only thing that will make you go the fuck to sleep and stop sobbing so goddamn much is playing fruit ninja on your wrists.

Long sleeves no matter the heat.

Broken promises to family, to friends.

Psychologists and Psychiatrists.

Medication upon medication.

You get better, honestly, you do. You go longer and longer between cuts, but every time you cut, its worse. You have your walk of shame to chemist warehouse where the staff look at you and know what you’ve done. You switch chemist warehouse locations from Chapel Street to Glenferrie Road in case they try and ask you if you’re okay. The aisle on the left when you walk in. Gauze. Bandages. Betadine. Friends who don’t yell at you, they help you, they drive you there, but they look down at your arm and cannot shield their disgust of such large and deep gashes that have completely split your skin in half. You can see the veins. When its bad, they get the gauze for you. They wash your arms as you scream from the burning pain. They carry you to the shower and wash your hair as you hold the victim arm in the air so it doesn’t get wet. They change your sheets and sit at a café for hours with you as they try to get you to finish a bowl of porridge. They see the lights gone out in your eyes. They cry. You cry. You don’t want to hurt them. You want to hurt you.

Cutting doesn’t make you sleepy anymore because you have to stay up to apply pressure to your arm to stop the bleeding. The tea towel sticks to your arm. There are bloodstains on your carpet, perfect little circles. There are razors everywhere. Inside your phone case. In your makeup bag. In your schoolbag. You’ve moved up from the shitty plastic ones. Sometimes you can’t even be bothered taking the razor apart - its messier, but its quicker.

You want to stop. You want to stop so badly especially after the time that you went too far and called a friend who couldn’t get to you. You were at home, returned from a night of drinking with your friends. Something triggered you, someone may have just raised their voice and it all comes back to you. Him screaming in your face, smashed tv’s. Violence. Police stations. Restraining orders. Changed phone numbers. Running down the street in underwear and a t-shirt with a dead phone. You might’ve been at a friends’ place and seen their fathers care not only about their daughters and sons, but about you too, and that sets you off. You get home and you’re sad, you are so fucking sad. You know what you’re going to do even before you leave wherever the fuck you were. You know, even though all the razors have been hidden, you know where there MIGHT be one, gathering dust, wedged accidentally between one of the storage cabinets at the base of your inbuilt bookshelf that carried the hundreds of books you read to escape from the reality that is your life. If it’s not there, you’ll just use a knife. You get out of the car and the tears have already started. You hold them in until you open your front door and throw all your shit on the bed. You brush past Death who was ready to welcome you with open arms. You’re in a frenzy to get to where you think that last razor might be. Death is jumping up and down excitedly. He knows it’s there, waiting for you. You find it, grab it, and there is no relief though you expected there to be.

Come on Alian, you’ve got to push down deeper this time. That’s the only way you’ll feel better. Just this one last time, it will be fine. Death said. He was right about everything else, why shouldn’t you believe him about this? It’s your right arm now, the left has way too many scars on it. The right arm has half as many, but they’re big, raised and menacing scars. There’s still room for about 5 more.

You press hard. Too hard. No matter how much pressure you apply, the blood isn’t stopping.

Death is encouraging you to go further. You can’t, you can’t keep your head up and you can’t stop the blood. Death is angry at you now. He’s mean and nasty, he’s not the understanding and supportive demon who ruins your life kindly, he’s completely turned. He’s grabbing at your fat, he’s taunting you with it. He’s making you remember memories you’d rather die than re live. He is making his voice inside your head so fucking loud that you can’t shut it out and it hurts, it hurts, you need it to stop, you reach for your pill box and open your mouth and wash down whatever pills you just took with whatever is left in the Smirnoff Vodka bottle you drank that night.

Darkness.

You’re black out drunk and you don’t know why there’s another one of your friends at your window. You’re asleep on your bedroom floor with the Little Mermaid playing in the background. Valium on the floor. Seroquel on the floor. You are covered in blood you can barely stand up to let him in. You fall asleep again in his arms. He was on the phone.

Darkness

He’s gone.

You don’t know where Death is either.

Red and blue flashing lights.

Sirens.

Banging on the door.

Darkness.

Two ambulance paramedics shaking you.

Your mum in tears.

You’re protesting. You don’t want to go with them. You’re fine. It’s just a cut, it’s not bad. It’s just like the other ones.

They need stitches. You can’t stay awake.

Darkness.

You’re getting carried out of your room like a baby by the male paramedic.

Stop, please, you’re hurting my arm.

Mum

Mum?

She doesn’t come.

Darkness.

You have your soft toy with you. You got her when you first moved to Melbourne when you were 7.

You watch your Mum and Death standing in the doorway as you’re lifted into the ambulance. You hate Death now. You’re not on the same team. You never were. He only wants to kill you.

Darkness.

You’re angry because the paramedics won’t let you sleep. You remember being really angry and really scared. Your arm is so sore. They keep saying how skinny you are. Asking what you took, how much you drank. You don’t know. The male paramedic is holding your hand with one of his and your arm with his other. You say that you want to go home. He can’t take you home, because your friend called them and told them that you’re going to kill yourself. You’re not, you promise, just please take you home. Please let go of your arm. He can’t let go because you need a lot of stitches. You’re lucky that you didn’t move half a millimetre to the left or the right or press down any harder, because they couldn’t save you if you did. Your holding on to your toy cat and he asks what her name is. Her name is Pearls. He asks who got you her and you tell him your mummy got her for you. You cry. Your mum who gave you the world, who loved you more than 50 parents combined. Your mum who would do anything for you. Your mum who told you she’ll stop fighting you if you want to leave this earth so badly. You’re not angry anymore.

You are sad. You are so fucking sad. You bury your head into the paramedics’ lap and you cry. You ask him to please just let you die.

Darkness.

You’re with a nice female doctor and she is interrogating you. You’re used to this. She tells you that if you end up here one more time (it’s not your first), you will be admitted even if you don’t want to be. You know this. You’re done with Death. You want him gone. You want to try and eat. You want to hug your mum. You want your yellow and purple bubble blowing machine. She tells you that you need stitches on the cuts you did tonight. You beg her not to have them, the blood has stopped and they can just heal over like the others. She refuses. It’s either stitches or glue. You’re scared. You’re alone and scared and Pearls the cat isn’t being much comfort. You call your friend and they stay on the phone while you have your arm sewed back together like a broken toy. You want to vomit. You’re thankful for the Valium and the Seroquel and the alcohol because you could not handle this any other way.

You have to stay a little bit longer so they can monitor you. They wanted to pump your stomach.

You’re at home now. There’s a pool of dried blood on the carpet. Lucky its dark grey carpet. That one will be a hard one to clean. Your mum hasn’t spoken to you. Your brother is overseas. You miss him.

You crawl into bed and watch Gossip Girl until you fall asleep.

You see your psychologist after you get your stitches out, and you tell him everything. You tell your doctor everything. You’re ready to get better. You tell them about the eating thing. It’s going to be hard and its not going to be pretty, but you’re going to get better. You enrol in university and you get another job. You do yoga and you go for runs. You eat when you feel like it and you eat a lot of fruit. If you feel like a burger, you get a burger. It takes years for you to have this relationship with food, but you get there. You stop getting black out drunk and you stop doing party drugs. You promise to stop for at least a year. You achieve it. You face your pain head on. You process what happened to you with the ex boyfriends. You know it’s not your fault. You know that what your feeling is a normal reaction, and you move past it. You have bad moments just like everybody else, but yours are a little worse. Yours are dangerous.

You sit on the bathroom floor clutching your head as you hyperventilate. Razors are allowed in the house again and you’ve ripped one apart and you’re rotating it between your thumb and index finger. Your heart is beating out of your chest because fucking hell you want nothing more than to slide that piece of metal over your skin and feel that rush again. You hold it to your wrist and you are uncontrollably crying. You’ve been so good when you’ve had the urgers, you’ve gone to your mum, you’ve called your friends, you’ve gone for a walk, you’ve gone to sleep, but you’re here now and there’s nothing stopping you except for your own willpower. You scream silently as the tears fall down. You’re not filled with stardust, you’re not filled with snowflakes or sparkles, you are filled with blood that has spilled too many times onto the floor. Your insides are spilling onto the fucking floor, your veins splitting at the seams. Your first kiss, your bubble blowing machine, the times you laughed so hard you cry, the year you had Christmas twice is dripping down your arm and rolling out of you. You’re coughing up and sobbing out every memory of getting in trouble with your friends or holding hands with the boy you thought you loved more than anything in the world. All your memories of the beautiful life you’ve lived are melting into the carpet of your bedroom floor staining it, reminding you of how much you hate yourself when you should love yourself. These red bubbles aren’t pretty rubies rushing out of your skin, this isn’t glamorous nor poetic, its not mysterious or romantic, its mutualization, its sickening. It’s death and you are dying. It’s you, everything you have been, everything you are, and everything you are yet to be, if you just give yourself the fucking chance.

And just like that,

You put the razors on your mum’s dresser, wrists intact, and you walk down the stairs. You go to the kitchen and you peel open a banana and you eat it. You put your headphones in, you go outside and you go for a walk around the botanical gardens. You enter through Gate D and you lie in the sun for a while as you throw bread for the ducks. The white ones with the orange beaks are your favourite. You give them nicknames. You know that in all honesty, you’re going to have more shitty boyfriends who might break your heart. You’ll also have good ones that even though it didn’t work, you grew. You know that you and your dad aren’t ever going to have a relationship. You know that you’re going to have trust issues and post-traumatic stress for quite a long time. You’ll fight with girlfriends, you’ll get too drunk and do something stupid like kiss someone you shouldn’t or break your nose at a music festival. You’ll laugh at it. You’ll have days where you hate your body and days where you love it. Days where you want the world to end and days where you never believed you could ever be so happy.

And for the first time in your 21 years of living, you’re okay with this. For the first time in 21 years, you’re at peace. You haven’t touched a razor since.

#mine

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