#but also how do I even phrase that correctly without it sounding horrible??

[brutal-out-here]

Having an extremely awkward situation is painfully awful

#raineyrambles #posting instead of dealing with it currently #basically I have two potential roommates down and one just messaged saying they got a messenge from someone else #the problem here is that the person who messaged them goes by he/them #and what the problem is isn’t what they go by- I personally don’t care #but my parents on the other hand would very much care in the opposite direction #and yes I could just flat out say that but then that low key makes me look like I’m just making something up #but also how do I even phrase that correctly without it sounding horrible??

[sabakos]

I know we all rightfully dunk on English orthography for being horrible but I feel like English grammar is kinda broken in the same way?

Maybe the concept of grammar itself is what's broken, but English grammar rules just seem very... underdetermined? As in, there are actually far fewer "correct" ways of phrasing something than the rules would imply, and making something flow correctly might potentially even require breaking those formal rules, even in "formal" English.

As a native English speaker, I don't consciously think of what these unwritten rules are, but I often find myself applying them when reading my own work or copyediting others. Something like adjective order or which preposition or conjunction will fit in any highly particular context just comes automatically to me, as it does (I think...) to almost any other native speaker, even if we have to knock things around a bit first to find the right arrangement of words. Sometimes there probably are formal grammar rules underlying these somewhat arbitrary seeming decisions, but if so, it seems odd that no one ever had to teach them to me in school, but that instead they taught me a much more simplistic set of rules that don't actually fully describe and even contradict what sounds "right" in regular speech.

It's appealling to think that this is because grammar education itself is somewhat of a farce, and that learning rules isn't as helpful as building intuition. But it could also be that the rules are useful approximations that give a baseline, and that that baseline allows the deeper complexities of sentence structure to more easily come from repeated exposure and use. This whole post could also just be the madness talking, and perhaps I've invented a whole set of arbitrary rules that no one else follows, and maybe even the admission that I'm a native English speaker is news to you all because you actually think my writing style is awkward and stilted, which made you assume that I wasn't. But I think even *that* would probably validate the point I'm aiming at because it would mean that there are unwritten rules that the rest of you all know, and that I'm just bad at them. I don't have words to describe this, or methods that would allow me to investigate it.

What makes me think that this isn't just madness is that I can often identify non-native speakers, even if their English is very good and they follow all of the grammar rules well, because they are consistently worse at the unwritten rules. And even they do follow *some* of these unwritten grammar rules, which is probably a mixture of the repeated exposure they've had to native speakers and that as second language speakers they probably had to learn a broader and more thorough set of rules than I did. Admittedly I do read and write and copyedit more than an average native speaker so it's possible I'm more attuned to the awkwardness, but I suspect this also means other Tumblr people are more likely to know what I'm talking about.

And this isn't mere dialect chauvinism here - Americans, Australians, and Canadians follow the same sets of these rules that British or Irish people do, across both formal and informal registers, with only minor vocab substitutions that don't seem *wrong* to me grammatically so much as unfamiliar. Whereas Euro English speakers and some Indian English speakers seem consistently worse at following these unwritten rules, which I'd attribute to English not being their native language and a resulting lack of exposure to how native speakers use the language.

But without getting too prescriptive, it seems like it should be possible to describe these rules, or possibly restructure grammar education differently, which might help clarify where non-native speakers are going astray if they care to. This is not a problem that needs to be solved for me though, I can understand what most non-native speakers are trying to communicate even if they aren't anywhere near fluent and often even if they break several of the "formal" grammar rules, just perhaps some of them might find it useful? Or possibly it would be maddening and less useful than further exposure, I do suspect that the arbitrary nature of orthography alone has already tried most second-language English learners' patience. So ultimately this is just for my own edification, navel gazing into what makes English composition flow better, I want to know why I think the things about the language that I do and how to speak meaningfully about it with others.

#yet again ancient greek has made me squint harder at english #so yeah this is kinda about koine greek also

[daaziscoolbesties]

minecraft endermen are really weird. theyre unnatural and make me feel off.

when i was a small child like seven years ago i would always play minecraft on creative mode and i made an ugly ass enderman "farm" made out of bricks. i had an enderman spawn egg and id just spam it and the enderman couldnt get out (so i thought). anyways having them in this enclosure was probably so i could feel "powerful" over them because to date theyre still the only mob in minecraft that makes me anxious. even above skeletons(which i used to have a horrible fear of (the real life ones not mc ones)) and spiders (which i still have a horrible fear of (again the real life ones not mc)). anyways the endermen just ended up completely teleporting out of the farm and i checked on my world the next day and they were all gone and i didnt appreciate it (this was the same world where my brother blew up my pets but thats a different story).

anyways back to endermen. besides the fact that i just didnt like dying and i did like building ugly structures, one of the main reasons i didnt play survival much for a while, or if i did id put it on peaceful, was because of the enderman. every time i passed one my heart would drop and if i happened to look it in the eye on accident my throat would feel like its closing up and idk why. if it sounds like im bullshitting you or not remembering correctly i swear im not because it still happens actually.

i play survival a ton more now simply because i enjoy it more, it feels like theres actually a goal to achieve, but i never really make efforts toward said goal(ya know, beating the dragon). none of my worlds are really created with the intention of beating the dragon, and therefore i dont have to worry about endermen. if i happen to be outside my house and theres one there, no worries i just wait for it to go away. it may spook me for a sec but im fine.

but recently me and my sister started a world with the sole purpose of beating the dragon. we may have cheated a little (like putting on keep inventory cause honestly we both suck at pvp and have died so many times) but its okay cause thats it. we still have to fight endermen to get pearls for the end portal. and so we were hanging out in the nether and made a little two block tall hidey hole and id stand by the front and taunt endermen to get them to come close so i could kill them without them being able to get to me and it worked really well actually. except for the fact that to get them to come near i had to get them to aggro onto me and to do that i have to look them in the eye and you know where this is going. and so i was like "it has been so long since i looked an enderman in the eye surely i cant still be scared of them" and i turn to my sister like "<sister> you stay in the hole ill get us some pearls"

so i go out and taunt the dudes and guess what bitch got the pit in their stomach from these fuckers!! thats right bestie and my throat started to close up and i started talking to my sister again but i could tell me voice was off from it and i dont know why it happens but it pisses me off. like theyre not even scary looking theyre just a bit odd. and i continue to do this and kill the endermen and it just. doesnt. stop. my throat keeps closing up and im not "in pain" or anything just inconvenienced like what the fuck dude its a bunch of fucking pixels. i dont know its weird.

and now this part is gonna sound super fuckin stupid but ever since i started watching dsmp i immediately got attached to ranboo (cc! and c!) and knowing that c!ranboo was half enderman made me really think "hm endermen arent that bad. granted i havent interacted with one in a while but still not that bad. perhaps my favorite hostile mob" because you know people get attached to characters and think dumb things. and then again ranboo's character straight up existing and also this one specific headcanon i saw that was like "endermen use telepathy to talk so when a player looks at them all their thoughts get projected into them and it hurts their brain :((" makes me feel kinda bad for aggro-ing them and killing them again even though its literally just some pixels dude. my brain is not kind to me about this stuff and its really dumb.

i dont know what about the endermen staring back at me sets off the sort of fight-or-flight that makes me unable to breathe for a second but its something. its not the fact that their jaws basically unhinge when theyre mad because the throat closing up sensation happens before that. it happens when i look at an enderman and it looks back up at me and holds my gaze. i dont know. i dont know why im worked up(even slightly) over a video game. theyre still my favorite hostile mob i think (not just because of ranboo honestly the other hostile mobs just kinda suck).

and also i like the idea of how humanoid they are. not human. humanoid. they have the basic aspects of a minecraft human- square, head, torso, legs, arms, eyes. most mc skins dont even have mouths anyways just eyes. but the endermen have these features differently than us. their eyes are unnatural, legs and arms too long, body all one color, one that can blend in, and you can only see its purple eyes staring you down from a distance. theyre basically just cryptids.

despite skeletons and even zombies looking closer to the player than the endermen, they still seem the most human-like of all of the mobs. they arent aggressive unless provoked. they dont like eye contact(socially awkward). they like picking up stuff and moving it around. theyre curious (i cant explain this one they just are, okay?). even the sounds they make are just phrases like "hey" "hello" "whats up" distorted and in reverse.

i want to know more about them.

i want to know where they came from.

why theyre found in every dimension.

why they sound like us.

i want explanations, i want to know why they scare us.

i want to know if they know.

if they know that we're like them in some way.

that some of us dont mean harm, but for others thats all they want to do to the endermen.

i saw a post once that said "what taught humans to be wary of things that look human, but arent?" i believe the phenomenon is called uncanny valley. what if in the minecraft universe, the thing that taught us that was endermen. or rather, the thing that taught the endermen that was us? because again, the endermen pose no threat to us unless theyre provoked. by one of us. the endermen try to communicate with us- "⊑⟒⊬" "⍙⊑⏃⏁⌇ ⎍⌿?"- but we kill them without reason. thats why they dont like eye contact, its been ingrained in them through evolution that eye contact with a human/player will end in death, and they dont want it to be theirs, so they attack first.

we- or rather, the first minecrafters, maybe (in the lore(?)) people before the game, taught the endermen to fear us. i mean we literally kill them, use their remains to enter their home dimension, and then kill their leader/mother. they do their best to stop us, but we can respawn and they cant. and then, some people even go as far as to make farms, having them all spawn in one place, crowded, cant teleport out- their only defense mechanism gone- and then are slaughtered for their pearls. and due to the mass of these farms there will be chests upon chests full of pearls that no one's using, i saw someone the other day ask what people do with them and someone straight up said they just burn them like god what a waste.

"but izzy, players make mob farms all the time and not just for endermen!!!1!!11! why are the endermen ones so bad why are you only talking about those1!1!1!!!1" 1) because i can, 2) this is an endermen-themed post, and 3) i dont like the other mobs. and of course im not actually mad at the players who like beating the game and making endermen farms and such, i mean thats what it is its all just a game just a bunch of code, 0's and 1's, so why does it matter why bother writing a whole post on it?

because when you look paste the game, when you read in between those ones and zeroes and discover this non-intentional lore, it can make things so much more,, interesting. this is fanfic material. hell, its probably fanart material too. its all for the content to see what the community can create i guess. or maybe i just really like talking about endermen and this has been on my mind for two days now and once i started typing i couldnt stop.

but yeah, thats my final thoughts.

we, humans, experience uncanny valley about the endermen.

but the endermen experience uncanny valley about the players.

#time is empty and thoughts are yes #long post #endermen #minecraft enderman #minecraft #minecraft lore #lore #tw video game death #not really sure if i need to put that since a lot of stuff in minecraft is killing stuff but might as well stay on the safe side with it #god this might be even longer than my other post #at least i formatted it this time #sorta #this post went from endermen make me feel weird to oOoOo psychology at 3 am with no proof real quick #and gonna be honest thats not at all what i had planned but its okay

[tomurasprincess]

A Caged Dove Part 1 (Shouto Todoroki x Reader)

Summary: You are a princess from a smaller territory within the kingdom, summoned to the castle to meet with the heir of the throne in the absence of your parents. You think it will simply be a routine trip, until you realize that Prince Shouto has his own plans for you. Whether you agree with them or not. 

Pairing: Prince Shouto Todoroki x Reader Rating: T+ for this chapter, but E+ for future ones. Chapter Warnings: Yandere themes, obsession, suggestion of forced marriage Series Warnings:  noncon, dubcon, breeding, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stalking, yandere Word Count: 2k+ Note: My entry for @bnhabookclub event! Fairy tale AU (although more Grimm than Disney.) I am extremely excited to be doing something for this, and for joining the Discord soon. This idea really struck my muse until I decided to give it a shot, and it blossomed into a multi-chapter fic. I hope you guys like it! Thank You: To @thewheezingwyvern, who discussed this idea with me for hours and then screeched at me for hours more to woman up and actually do it. You only had to screech an average of 9 times before I started, so this is a new record. @jojosmilktea, thank you for making the gorgeous banner for me! I am but a humble peasant compared to your banner making, and must bow to the queen. 

One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Finale)

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so nervous before, standing outside the throne room of the royal Todoroki family. You had received a missive just a few days ago, summoning you immediately to the castle for an audience with Prince Todoroki himself, heir to the throne of the kingdom.

It was not often that someone of your class had an audience with the Crown Prince, so although you have received a full education and are quite knowledgeable in matters of the Court, you cannot help but be nervous nevertheless. An occasion like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, something that can make or break a noble family, especially one of the lesser noble families such as yours.

You fuss with your outfit one more time, trying to look your best and distract yourself when the doors finally open. One of the royal guards walks out from the throne room and motions you forward. “This way, Princess. His Royal Highness is ready to see you.”

You give a quick nod and begin to walk through the doors to the throne room, your bodyguard trailing behind you, when you hear the royal guard speak up.

“You have been instructed to see His Royal Highness without bodyguards, Princess.”

You pause for a second before glancing over to your bodyguard who gives you an imperceptible shake of the head, indicating that he does not want you to go alone. You wave him off and continue to the throne room. You’re in the heart of the royal palace, you think to yourself, you will be fine.

As you enter the huge double doors to the throne room, what you see in there almost stops you in your tracks. The splendor and beauty of this room is like nothing you have ever seen before. The room itself is huge, with tall ceilings that stretch up to beautiful domes. Statues of previous rules line the walls which are inlaid with what looks like pure gold.

And at the end of the room, sitting in a massive throne, sits Prince Shouto Todoroki himself. You have never seen him in person before, and you realize the gossip of his beauty were not exaggerated. His hair is two toned, cut down the middle with one side being white and one side being red. His eyes are the same, the piercing nature of them staring into what feels like your very soul.

He does not take his eyes off of you the entire time it takes you to walk to his throne, leaving you to feel off balance at the intensity you find in them. You barely remember to drop your gaze, the weight of them almost too hard to look away from.

You finally make it to the throne, stopping a respectable length away from him and falling into a deep curtsy to show your respect. As you bring yourself upright, you wait for him to say the first words.

“Ah, I am very glad that you could make it, Princess. I hope you had a pleasant journey.” Well of course I made it, you think, I had no choice but to answer the Crown Prince’s summon.

You push the thought down and give a gracious nod. “Of course, I am honored to meet you, Your Highness.”

“I was informed that your parents were called away on urgent business, and as such, could not make it today.”

“That is correct, Your Highness, which is why I was sent in their place as ambassador for our territory.” You are momentarily surprised he knows this information so quickly, but you suppose it makes sense for the royal family to be so well connected.

“I remember meeting with them several times while checking on the state of the country with my parents. They seemed like very kind people. I do hope it is nothing serious.”

You remember this occasion well. Your territory is important, but still minor in comparison to the royal family. A visit from them was a huge deal, and there had been preparation done for months before they ever arrived. You met Prince Shouto there very briefly, and it was an encounter you never forgot. He seemed like the very picture of the perfect prince, and you admit to having an almost schoolgirl crush on him.

“Ah, but I am sure you want me to get to the point. You must be concerned as to why you were summoned here today.”

You consider denying that you are nervous, but you think better of lying. “I will admit that I am a little nervous, yes. Someone of my rank is not often summoned by the Crown Prince.”

“Of your rank? You do not give yourself enough credit.” He gives you a small smile. “I have summoned you here for a proposal, after all.”

A proposal? Your heart drops into your stomach as you hear the word proposal. Surely he doesn’t mean…? But it is confirmed by his next sentence, as he sees the confusion on your face.

“Yes, that kind of proposal,” he chuckles, “I am sure you have heard the rumors that I am seeking a wife.”

You had, in fact, heard the rumors. But you had written it off as just that, rumors. Or, even if it was more than that, something that ultimately did not concern you or your family. There were far more suitable matches for the heir to the throne, after all.

The Todoroki family ruled the country with a fair hand and were well loved by everyone, and as such, were constantly called to mediate over disputes and enforce laws. The best match for the Crown Prince would have been one of the more troubled territories, perhaps even another country. Something that would help secure more alliances for the country.

“I don’t -- I’m not sure I understand,” you trail off, before remembering yourself at the last minute, “Your Highness.”  

If he notices your almost slip up, he says nothing and simply continues. “Did your parents not mention it to you?”

You quickly shake your head. “Mention what, your Highness?”

“I requested permission to court your hand in marriage, and your parents agreed.”

The shock of such a casual statement has you reeling. Why would he be courting you, and furthermore, why would your parents have agreed? They were nobility, yes, but they were simple people who were content with their lot in life. They never would have wanted you thrown into the atmosphere of court life.

“But why wouldn’t they mention anything to me about this, my lord?”

You realize belatedly that you did not address him correctly, and a rush of embarrassment hits you at losing your manners in such a way. You worry that you’re going to be kicked out of the castle in disgrace at this rate.

But he simply gives you a smile and ignores your faux pas, a smile that should put you at ease but instead simply makes you feel on edge. You’re being ridiculous, you think to yourself, he is from a family of kind hearted and fair people. Nothing is going to happen to you besides a little social embarrassment.

“One of your retainers mentioned they had been called out with little notice, correct? I imagine they were about to tell you, but the emergency caused them to forget in their haste to deal with the situation.”

His voice and words are reasonable, but something about this situation seems off. Your parents are not forgetful, and are known as some of the most reliable in the country. This level of emergency was unusual as well, for both of your parents to be away at the same time. You were not generally left alone to deal with the ruling of your territory. And then to be summoned by the Crown Prince himself, with a marriage proposal at that...all of your noble training has your instincts screaming at you.

But your noble training also demands that you not bring up any of this to your superiors. “Of course, Your Highness,” you say as you curtsy a bit, “that sounds very possible.”

“Then you will accept?” He is obviously asking a question, but his tone says otherwise, the iron in his voice making it obvious that there is only one correct answer to this question.

“This is all happening very fast, Your Highness,” you desperately try to reason, “may I have enough time to think it over?” You are being thrown into a situation that you are not prepared to handle, and if you could only delay things just a bit until your parents got back, then things can still go okay.

“No, you may not.” But your hope is instantly dashed. “You will give me your answer before you leave this room.” This time, it’s not even phrased as a question. A sliver of fear slides up your spine at the way he’s acting, at all of the breaches of formality that he’s abandoning. There is something horribly wrong here, and yet nothing you can do about it.

“I am not asking you to marry me tomorrow. Simply consent to allow me to court you.” He stands up from his throne at this as he begins to walk towards you. You’re aware of just how tall he is as he moves towards you, until he’s standing far too close for propriety's sake.  

“I - I just,” you stammer a bit, cringing internally at the breach of your own sense of formality that is now occurring. But everything about this meeting is not normal, and you have been thrown off balance too much to respond quickly. “I apologize for my manners. Of course I consent, Your Highness.”

You find yourself staring into those deep, heterochromatic eyes, not wanting to look away but knowing that you have to. When you finally find the strength, he grabs you by the chin, his hand being far too cool against your heated skin. Shock runs through your system as you’re forced to meet the eyes of Prince Shouto, who is staring at you with an emotion that you just can’t seem to place no matter how hard you try.

“Since I’m going to be courting you, Princess,” he whispers to you as he trails a finger down your jawline, “why don’t we just skip formalities? Call me Prince Shouto.”

Your eyes widen at the implication of calling him that, something that only family may call the heir to the throne. He wants this to already be a done deal, but there has to be some way to still get out of this. The Royal Todoroki family would never force anyone into marriage. You just need to play along a little longer until you can think of a way out of this.

“Of course, Prince Shouto,” you say, and you watch his face light up. He looks almost boyish when he smiles, no longer quite the severe prince that he truly is, and for a second you feel glad at putting that smile on his face as you remember the meeting with him years ago. But you come back to the reality of the situation quickly and scold yourself for behaving like a doey eyed schoolgirl.

“Then it’s settled,” he steps back from you, although he looks reluctant to do so. “I have prepared you a room in the south wing of the castle, and you will have attendants waiting there to take care of any need you may have. Someone will pick up tomorrow at brunch, and I expect you to be ready.”

“What do you want me ready for,” you ask cautiously.

“I wish to show you around the castle, of course. If this is to be your home, then you need to familiarize yourself with it. And it will be a good way for us to get to know each other better, don’t you think?”

“Then I’ll be ready, my --- Prince Shouto,” you instantly correct yourself at the last minute. But his smile widens when he hears you say “my prince,” like it pleases him. He gives a quick nod and a gesture at the door to indicate that you are free to go. But as you turn away to walk to the door, you miss the way his smile turns victorious, a dark chuckle rising from his chest as he sits back down on his throne.

~~~~

Tags: @burnedbyshoto, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93, @katsukisprincess, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @hoefortodo, @mhafanfics19, @oktamaki

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki shouto #yandere shoto #yandere shouto #yandere bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #eventual smut #a caged dove #this shit is going to get dark quick #so please beware the series tags #and not just the chapter tags #bnhabookclub

[juliettalfacharlie]

Day 5, alt: "I'm sorry."

CW illness, vomiting, and injury. Shameless plug for the house I designed.

Kya awoke to the sound of violent retching, and she immediately threw off the covers and hurried down the hall. Lin had begun a new medication for chronic pain. A lifetime spent on the police force meant her body had been bruised and battered more times than Lin could begin recalling, and her spinal discs had worn out far more rapidly than others her age. She experienced pain and stiffness, which otherwise would have had a chance of being manageable, but she also had weakened muscle control and infrequent numbness in her legs. She'd been forced to retire years before she'd ever planned, and it had been extremely difficult for her to cope with.

Walking had become a challenge on the worst days, and even when she retained feeling in her lower body, she felt fiery pain in her back whenever she moved. The spine wasn't an area with abundant bloodflow, and healing couldn't repair collagen; Kya was absolutely miserable watching her struggle, unable to assist in any physical way.

Lin was nauseous in the late afternoon, a few hours after taking the pills. She'd insisted on sleeping in the guest room so she wouldn't wake Kya if she felt ill. Kya had firmly opposed, but Lin wouldn't be swayed. In the end, Kya gave in, hoping it was just because Lin believed she'd weather the illness better alone.

Now, standing atop the wrong carpet, looking into the wrong bathroom, Kya was filled with extreme regret over not fighting her more. Lin was leaning heavily on the sink, forearms supporting most of her weight. Her legs trembled, as she was clearly experiencing partial paralysis, and her chest shook with heaving breaths. The room was almost pitch black, like she hadn't had the time to turn on the light before she heaved into the basin.

"Lin?" Kya called, voice soft. She couldn't be sure if Lin was aware of her presence, incapacitated as she was.

Her girlfriend gagged though nothing came up. She grunted, trying to clear her throat. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" she asked, uncharacteristically quiet. Her throat was horribly sore. "I should have gone to the treehouse."

Kya had moved to Lin's side, and she froze, horrified. "Losing an hour of sleep is nothing compared to you struggling without any support." she chided, wiping sweat from Lin's cool forehead.

"I shouldn't need support, it's only emesis." the younger woman countered, hands clenched into fists. Kya hardened, easily seeing through Lin's spiked boldness.

"If you're sick, I want to be there. Please don't try and hide it from me. I shouldn't have let you sleep alone." Kya murmured, carefully rubbing a hand over Lin's shoulders.

The metalbender shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. Her brows were pinched, and Kya couldn't tell if it was due to physical discomfort or a conflict of emotions. Lin had never wholly embraced being taken care of, and it had worsened immensely as her body began to break down.

Lin's muscles tensed, once again heaving into the sink. Her stomach had emptied itself of her lunch, and instead she coughed up a surge of bile.

The sting in her throat made her gag, gut twisting painfully. She swiped at the faucet handles, turning the tap on full blast.

Kya bent water around the basin, cleaning the sides, before she brought a globe of fresh water to Lin's face. Her wife opened her mouth and rinsed out the taste, then Kya also sent that down the drain.

Lin instinctively wiped her mouth though it was dry, before rubbing away the tears that had formed in the corner of her eyes. Kya shut off the water, keeping a small amount on her palm, and she raised her hand to Lin's neck.

The younger woman tilted her chin up just so, allowing Kya access to heal the irritation along her throat. It was a process that only took a few moments, and soon enough Lin was clean and well once again.

Lin struggled off of her forearms, pressing her palms into the counter as she slowly straightened her back. She exhaled in pain, eyes once again falling shut.

"Will you come back to bed with me?" Kya asked, and Lin nodded once, holding one arm out.

Wordlessly, Kya slipped under it, supporting some of Lin's weight as she stood fully.

The first steps Lin took were terribly shaky, knees and ankles not bending correctly, but Kya was used to the imbalance. She tightened her arm around Lin's ribs, helping her break through the stiffness. By the time they were in the hallway, Lin had more control over herself, and she stopped hanging off of Kya's neck.

The pace was slow, neither wanting to risk a misstep, but with tired minds the time seemed to pass by quickly anyways.

Kya brought Lin to the edge of their bed, carefully letting her sit. The earthbender's face was still tight with pain.

"Uh, would you mind getting the warming balm?" Lin whispered, and Kya quickly replied in the positive.

A mix of camphor and menthol seemed to the the only relief for Lin's back pain, as she didn't typically want to try ingestible pain reliever. This night was the first time she'd caved, though it clearly hadn't helped; Kya would certainly have a word with Lin's physician come morning.

Jars of the salve were kept across the house, and Kya grabbed the one kept inside the nightstand. It was most frequently replaced, as any niggling pain made it difficult for Lin to sleep.

Lin reclined and turned onto her side, back facing Kya. The waterbender unscrewed the lid, taking a healthy dollop onto her finger before she set the container on the bedside table. She slid her clean hand under Lin's t-shirt, pushing it up her back.

Neither woman spoke as Kya rubbed the salve into Lin's muscles, trying to ease some of the tension within. It was relieving that Lin had asked for help in the first place. When she was tired she was still prone to shutting Kya out, as she'd done at first, but a lot of progress had been made regarding clear communication. Lin's progressive decline had caused a hiccup in their seamless coexistence, though it never affected their relationship beyond a few hours of brooding here and there.

As the balm began to take effect, Lin's back finally relaxed. Kya felt the tension slowly ebb until she'd all but melted into the mattress, clearly exhausted.

Kya removed her hands, pulling Lin's top down to cover the balm. One hand lingered atop Lin's hip as she leaned in, placing a kiss on the back of Lin's neck.

"Thank you." Lin spoke, gravely and weak. When she cleared her throat Kya could imagine the pinched annoyance on her face.

"You're welcome. Of course, Lin," Kya responded, "All I want is for you to feel like you can rely on me for help." she said.

Lin slowly turned onto her back, taking Kya's hand in hers. "It isn't that I don't trust you. I hope you don't think that," she sighed, considering her words. She’d been silently working to articulate her feelings, not wanting Kya to ever doubt her role in Lin’s life.

"It's- I'm telling you, it's all me. I've always been against letting people see my... imperfections, or- weaknesses. Weaknesses. You know my retirement was hard, and spirits, the press. But what felt even worse was just, how.... you were so understanding, always. I'd have a bad day and you would simply work around it, like it was no big deal. You stayed with me during Vesak instead of spending it on the island, and I was terrible to you that day. I felt so much loathing for myself, and I still do. I'm so grateful to have you, but I- it's," she paused, a noise of frustration in her throat. It was hard enough to procure the words to what she was feeling, but she was also extremely mindful not to say something that could be taken harmfully. She went over her thoughts to weed out phrases that sounded ungrateful, or implied she didn’t trust Kya, as it was the opposite of what she wanted to communicate.

Despite the silence, Kya didn't speak; Lin was telling her, it wasn't a conversation. The metalbender needed to voice her thoughts without comment. Any words of affirmation refuting her statements only made her retreat. Kya was able to show Lin, later on, how she herself saw things differently.

"I never saw myself having this future. Not only the retirement part, however awful it's been, but our relationship. When we were younger it was because of our ages, but even when you came out I didn't think you'd ever look my way. While I wasn't romantically attracted to you, I always pictured you finding that perfect partner; brilliant, beautiful, selfless, adventurous, maybe even someone who shared your terrible sense of humour. Whoever it was, she’d have all of your wonderful qualities as well. I think- I’ve been putting far too much pressure on myself to live up to that, I suppose,” Lin was partially speaking aloud for herself at that point, voicing niggling thoughts and realizing their truth. “I’m sorry I’ve been difficult.” she mumbled, though it was the wrong thing to say.

Kya tsk’d, “You’re not allowed to apologize for being upset or feeling unwell.” she reminded firmly, and Lin squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry I tried to hide from you, then. You don’t deserve that.” Lin corrected.

“I’m glad you’re speaking to me now. I know everyone copes in their own ways, and I understand your silence, but if you need help it’s pertinent I know,” the waterbender said, scooting closer to Lin’s side, “You’re aware of it, and I know you’re trying. I’m not upset.” she emphasized, and Lin turned her head into Kya’s chest.

“I love you.” she said, bringing their joined hands up to shoulder-level. Come morning she’d hopefully be able to explain more, but she’d exhausted both her mental and physical reserves. Sensing it, Kya’s other arm went around Lin’s stomach. She was halfway-sideways and halfway on her stomach, laying atop her girlfriend, and Lin enjoyed her warm weight.

“I know.” Kya replied, tucking her chin down on the crown of Lin’s head. “I love you too.” she murmured, finally letting her eyes fall shut.

#i began this on the 4th & thought i was very well ahead #i was wrong #kyalin #lin beifong #kya lok #angstpril #cw mental health

[thefanficmonster]

Never Alone

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder) ft. The Keating 5

Warnings: Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Swearing, Trauma, Description of Injury

Genre: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: While working on a particularly tough case in the ungodly hours of the night, whether it’s due to the lack of sleep or the sudden need to confide in another human being, Michaela admits some truths to the person no one would think she’d ever do so to - her rival Connor Walsh.

Requested by Anon and requested as a birthday present by another Anon. Happy birthday darling Anon! Thank you so much for giving me the honor of writing you a birthday present though I hope the short notice doesn’t affect the fic’s quality. I accept the most brutal of feedback, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy it! Enjoy your special day! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“You know, just because you’re still awake and staring at a document doesn’t mean you have an upper hand here. Whether you’re actually reading that file is what will determine who gets the trophy, Miss Shooting Star.“ Connor Walsh waltzes into the living room turned office of the Keating home, looking and sounding a little too refreshed for someone who has had the same amount of sleep as everyone else of the K5 - minimal. Yet, unlike his teammates, he’s still perfectly functioning, talkative and looking forward to being productive without accidentally falling off a chair after being consumed by the slumber his body is probably dying for. It probably has something to do with that cup of coffee in his hand - his tenth one today, if Michaela’s counted correctly.

“Call me that again and I’ll shoot the damn trophy at your forehead.“ Michaela hisses back at him, tired, stinging and bloodshot eyes never leaving the piece of paper she’s been holding, reading and re-reading for the past twenty minutes, never really managing to grasp the words written on it.

“Good luck taking it from Asher. The Douche has fallen asleep with it in his arms.“ Connor sinks down in one of the armchairs, leisurely picking up one of the files laid out on the coffee table, looking at it with little interest.

This time Michaela’s gaze does indeed leave the paper so it can land on her rival, as she raises an eyebrow that somewhere between shocked and offended, “That asshole’s asleep?”

“He’s not the only one.“ It’s Connor’s turn to not spare her a look while answering, “Him and Wes are as good as dead on the kitchen island. Laurel and Frank are most likely awake, but also most likely not working on the case. Well, not this case, that’s for sure.“ He chuckles at his own joke, seeing as how his correspondent found no humor in it, “So, it’s down to you and me and Bonnie if she throws us a bone, which I doubt she will.“

Annalise was very clear with what she had said. Speaking the whole truth here, the five college students weren’t really paying attention until they heard that very strictly spoken phrase: “No one leaves here until someone finds something. Anything” aka the last phrase their professor had graced them with before walking out to go meet someone important for the night. She had every right to be strict and maybe even a bit cruel to them after they all had been exhibiting typical brat behavior throughout the day. To make matters worse and the job even tougher, Annalise had instructed Frank and Bonnie to go home so the kids would really be left to their own devices. Bonnie had had enough so no amount of begging her was gonna get her to stay - it’s also been proven that no amount of voicemails are gonna get her to come back either - but Frank, solely because of Laurel, stuck around and has so far not proved to be any kind of extra help - the polar opposite, in fact, he’s been distracting them all with jokes and snide comments at how incompetent they all are. Now if that wasn’t the most hypocritical thing.

“If the pressure wasn’t on already, I’d like to remind you we have...“ Connor turns his hand over, checking his wristwatch, “less than four hours until we have to show our not-showered, sleep deprived asses in court.“

Michaela groans, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. Not that she’d ever admit it, but she was actually glad to have an overnight task, something that wouldn’t allow her to go home, but this is beginning to be too much. What others would call ‘home’ Michaela refers to as or ‘hell’. It was place she called ‘home’ at one point too, but it wasn’t long before things started going south. And by ‘south’ I mean horribly wrong and toxic. The man she thought she’d one day call fiancée and then husband has now become a monster from her worst nightmares. Having grown up in an abusive household, Michaela had always dreamed of finding a place for herself, a place she’d feel safe in. With a person who’d love her unconditionally and provide her the security she lacked growing up. And that’s what she thought she saw in Miles. She wasn’t wrong for the first few months, the fucker was good at putting up a front, putting on a show for everyone to build a positive opinion of such a disgusting human being.

The mask started falling apart shortly after Michaela moved in with him. She didn’t accept his offer without any thought, quite the contrary actually - she pondered it for a week and a half, her heart taking the win in the end. Well, her heart may have won that time but it is now in pieces. Her eyes have never cried so many tears and her skin has never bled nor been bruised so badly before. She feels broken, alone, betrayed, hurt. She feels all she felt every time she got hit as a kid. She feels like the whole world has equipped knives and guns, each with her name on them, ready to put her through torture.

And she’s got no one to tell, because no one will know what to say back. For some reason, when people are speechless they tend to say the dumbest, most hurtful crap without realizing. Hearing that on numerous occasions before, she knows what effect it’ll have on her, so she strays away from speaking up about it. She’d rather be alone and battle her demons than present those demons to someone else who will introduce new ones into her head and life.

She prefers solitude and isolation over additional torment. It’s always been an easy pick for her.

“If you don’t wanna fight this battle on your own, go fetch me a cup of coffee.“ She instructs, half-expecting the turn-down she receives immediately afterwards.

“You really think I’m gonna help you when you are the closest thing to competition I have in this group of dimwits? Go get it yourself.“ 

Michaela rolls her eyes, wondering why she even asked such an abomination of a question in the first place. Finding her legs too dead to take her anywhere, she remains in her spot with a heavy sigh, returning to her attempt at reading the file she and the rest of the Keating 5 five have read through a dozen times today just to find nothing off about it.

“Hey, this one’s marked twenty-three, that one on the table’s twenty-five, where’s the twenty-fourth one?“ Connor suddenly perks up suddenly, cutting the short silence that had fallen upon them. With the least amount of energy she’s managed to save up, Michaela waves the file she’s holding, blinking away the blurriness of that clouds her eyes. “Give it to me, I need to make some comparisons.”

“Come get it yourself.“ She barks back with the same amount of spite he used barely a minute ago.

Unlike her though, Connor complies, finding that file necessary for some reason despite knowing it’s useless. It’s all pointless and they’re all gonna hear it from Annalise tomorrow morning regardless. But the most they can do is keep trying - trying to prove themselves worthy of that trophy.

Getting up with the most exaggerated distaste in his movements, Connor crosses the distance between the armchair he’s been sitting in and the couch Michaela has not moved from for hours, surrounded by piles of paperwork, folders and files. Much to his surprise, she doesn’t even put up a fight, clearly having been fed up with staring at the same words and not grasping anything for half an hour at this point. 

“Thank y-“ Connor is a syllable away from finishing his sarcastic statement of gratitude when his eyes land on something peculiar, he’d even call is quite worrisome - a large scar going from Michaela’s elbow to about midway down her forearm. It looks to be recent, given that there are still some dried specs of blood around it, “Holy shit....“ He mutters, carefully taking hold Michaela’s wrist as to gently turn her arm a bit more to the side in order to examine the cut, “What the hell happened to you?“

Not having realized what he was examining before, Michaela’s eyes widen when they follow his gaze and land on the very cut she spent an hour taking care of last night. That cut is the aftermath of a drunk boyfriend who wanted nothing more than a reason to start an argument with her when she got home. A reason to hurt her. Coming into work this morning, despite the high temperatures, she was stubbornly keeping a long sleeved jacket atop her shirt to keep the ugly remainder of yet another failure hidden. The relationship in and of itself is a toxic failure, but it’s built of other failures Mihaela blames herself for - she believes she fails every time he hurts her. She thinks she’s the one to blame for the failure because she couldn’t protect herself. So she feels ashamed, disgusted and is attacked by that sense of betrayal all over again.

Feeling these three emotions flooding in at the sound of Connor’s concern, she snatches her arm out of his grip, keeping the scar out of his viewpoint while her eyes scan the room, looking for the jacket she doesn’t remember discarding. “Piss off, Connor. It’s non of your business.”

If she had said something along the lines of it being an accidental injury, Connor might’ve even believed her and let the whole thing go. However, seeing hw distressed his question has made her become, he feels there’s a lot more to it than she’s letting on. So, fully aware it’s non of his business, he keeps prodding on for a reason even he himself doesn’t understand, “Maybe not, but that’s a concerning scar, you might wanna get it checked. In fact, it already looks like it’s infected with something.”

Michaela’s brows furrow, her distress growing into genuine fear as she removes the hand that’s partially covering the scar to check on it and try and see what Connor saw to lead him to make such an observation. Connor takes this opportunity to also get a better look at the cut and it doesn’t take him a while to realize what tool was used in causing it - a shard of glass. 

“Michaela, it may not be my business...“

She cuts him off with hostility, “It’s not”, but her words are choked up and wavering. Her voice is shaking like she’s seconds away from bursting into tears. And Lord knows crying in front of Connor Walsh is the last thing she wants to do.

“Right, but you can’t tell me that’s an accidental cut. That looks very intentional, very straight, and very much like someone inflicted it on you.“ Seeing her barriers slowly starting to sink despite her best attempts at keeping them up, he keeps his pursuit of his secret, for the first time genuinely curious to get to the bottom of what’s troubling Michaela and not a single ulterior motive in his mind. “You can’t tell me that I’m wrong. I’ve had my fair share of glass shard injuries in my life too.“ The girl’s gaze remains glued to the floor but Connor doesn’t miss the tear that escapes her left eye, sliding down her cheek. This only strengthens his will to getting the truth out of Michaela. “I know I’m not among your favorite people, but I’m not a piece of scum, damn it. You can tell me, Michaela. Believe it or not, you can tell me.“

Silence takes over, loud silence, the one on her end filled with the inaudible sound of her walls coming down quickly. She’s left bare and exposed. surrounded by their rubble and unable to look her rival in the eye. Though, is he much of a rival at this moment? He appears dangerously close to a friend. Hell, Michaela would even make a snide remark about it if her insides weren’t so broken - her heart, her soul, her mind, they’ve all been shattered, bruised and bloodied way worse than her skin.

“Turn around.“ She says out of the blue, the order sounding more like a plea especially when accompanied by another tear freeing itself from the confinement of her pride. When Connor doesn’t move, she finally looks up at him to meet his baffled gaze, “Turn around so I don’t have to see the pity in your eyes when I tell you I’m a pathetic victim of an abusive relationship. The punching bag of an asshole with a short fuse and a drinking problem. A failure to myself and my family. Is that what you wanted to hear? Do you think you have the upper hand now?“ Behind the tears that are spilling freely now is the mix of rage, devastation, dread and sorrow. It’s a dangerous combination that could cause her to pounce at him any second, push him away, take her anger out on him.

But that’s what he wants her to do.

He wants her to let it all out, free herself from all that’s been sitting on her chest. He wants to free her from whoever’s responsible for that scar on her arm and those thousands of little cuts on her soul, all still openly bleeding and unable to heal. He wants to save her. And it’s scaring him. He wants to write it off as basic human decency but deep down he know there’s something more. As much as the both of them would like to deny it, if one of them left the Keating 5 tomorrow, the other would miss them greatly. Threats, accusations, arguments and bickering aside, they are aware how great of a team they are. What a good pair of friends they could be if they just let their pride slip aside. But they don’t, and maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe that’s why they work so well.

However, even with that theory in mind, they’ve both let their pride go in this very moment. Walls and barriers have come down, lines have been crossed and they see each other differently now - More as fellow hurting humans rather than rivaling lawyers-to-be. Closer than ever, that’s for sure.

“Listen, Michaela...“

She once again cuts him off, “I don’t want your pity, sympathy or your advice. I don’t need you telling me to leave him! You think I haven’t thought of that?! You know nothing about it, you don’t get to judge me on my actions and choices!” She’s sobbing at this point with no hopes or ways of stopping the strangled noises from leaving her throat or the tears from escaping her red eyes.

Connor quickly crouches down in front of the couch so he’s at eye-level with  her, his hands taking gentle but firm hold of her shoulders, “Michaela, no! That’s not what I wanna say! Listen to me, damn it.“ To his surprise, this actually gets her to calm down and stop thrashing to get his hands off. Slightly relieved, he pursues what he started, “I know, I know exactly how it is. Every time he does something nice it outweighs the bad. It’s those good moments that make you stay, I know. But those moments are the rare rainbow after a ton of rain. They are not worth this pain and suffering you’re enduring. He’s not worth it. You deserve so much more, so much better and you are aware of that!“

“But no one else is!“ She snaps, her hands coming up to hide her face, “No one else sees my worth beyond the job I do or the person that’s willing to put a ring on my finger. No one sees me for me, Connor! My value is determined by what kind of men find me decent enough for their beds or family contracts! What kind of response do you think I’ll have if I leave yet another relationship?“

Her words break his heart but he doesn’t let it show in his eyes, he’d rather close them than let her see that pity she fears and despises. He doesn’t pity her, far from it, but a simple misunderstanding on her end could break this already fragile bond they’ve built so he keeps his feelings at bay.

“Fuck them! Michaela, you are an adult woman, they can’t control your life anymore! No one can! That’s why you need to cut ties with those whose opinions you fear most. I don’t know what kind of stick they have up their asses, but without them you won’t be alone. You’ll be free!“

“And you’ll still have us.“ The sudden and new female voice comes from behind them, right by the doorway.

Both of them turn to look in that direction to find the four missing members of this late case-digging session: the sleepy Asher and Wes with Frank and Laurel beside them.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but Michaela, you will not be alone, no matter what the context is. We might not be the best friends one can ever have, but we sure as hell aren’t monsters.“ Laurel continues, being the only one to actually take a step in the room while the three men stay put, uncertain of how to approach the situation. “I think we all care about each other to some degree. So, I want you to know, we care about you and we’re here for you. No matter how many times you leave us in the dust with your eyes on the prize.“

That remark manages to get a smile out Michaela even with the tears that are still not done rolling down her cheeks. Asher is also quick to pipe in, “I second that! Anything you need, we’ll be here. Need us to bust someone’s skulls - we’re your people.”

Scoffing, Connor shoots Michaela a look, “Now that’s an idea. Give us the address of that shithead and consider it done.”

She rolls her eyes, “Let me get my stuff out of there first. I don’t want you getting blood on any of it.”

Connor stands up from his crouched position and turns to the rest of the team with a determined look and a hint of a smile on his face, “You heard her folks! The lady wants to collect her stuff, and I’ll be damned if I let her do it alone.” He turns back to his temporarily-not-rival, “Come on, you can crash at my place until this friendly phase of ours fades. Then I’m dumping you at Laurel’s.”

She narrows his eyes at him, “Hilarious.” Suddenly her eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up, “Wait, what about the case?”

“Laurel and I found something, already turned it in. We were coming here to send you guys home.“ Frank replies in his usual reassuring manner.

“Ooooh, so you were working on the case after all!“ Asher comments, wiggling his eyebrows at them.

“Yeah, we were. Unlike some who were asleep in the kitchen cuddling a trophy.“ Laurel retorts, sending him the most sarcastic of smiles. 

This whole interaction between her...well, her friends has lifted Michela’s spirits enough to get her up on her feet, “In that case, better get prepared to help me pack three large suitcases.”

And with that the Keating 5 (plus Frank) disembark, heading to their new mission. Walking out of the Keating household with four people, all unconditionally supporting her without even knowing what’s going on and one person with his arm tightly wrapped around her in a protective manner, Michaela has never felt more safe and secure. She might not love these people and they might not love her either, but they are all fond of each other. And if their fondness has reached the degree where they’re willing to accompany her and aid her escape from the hell she’s been trapped in this past month and a half, she’s willing to call them friends.

Some closer than others, but she cannot admit that knowing that in a week’s time her and Connor will probably be at each other’s throats again. And she’s fine with that. Rivalry’s a type of friendship too, ain’t it?

#how to get away with murder #htgawm #michaela pratt #connor walsh #asher millstone #laurel castillo #wes gibbins #annalise keating #bonnie winterbottom #frank delfino #flaurel #connor & michaela #sam keating #rebecca sutter #htgawm season 1 #htgawam #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #palatonic #platonic relationship #enemies to allies #rivals to friends #htgawm s1

[thespiritofthoughts1234]

The warriors

              Hi, my name is Isabela! I live in a small town called Ocna’s Village in Romania. Actually, I was born in Italy, but I’ve moved to Romania without knowing why, ok when I moved, I was a baby so is pretty logic to not know lots of things on that young age…Eh, doesn’t matter, cause now I don’t wanna tell you my story, but I really want to discuss about Dimension F35A.

                F35A is a place where everything that appears to be unrealistic, impossible or even dumb on this planet it can happen there. Now you might ask yourselves: “How can a little girl know so much about an interdimensional world”, well I know because I WAS THERE. You know, a very long time ago it was known about a rock that once rubbed by someone, it could create a portal between dimensions. That rock was called then a “curly rock”, a natural object that can be modeled in any other form, in today’s world it can be recognized in bracelet form and you can purchase it at an affordable price… (I swear I don’t make advertisement) …not true, actually you get it from birth (not literally anyone can say that).

               This dimension was perfect for my imagination, but it comes out that…I couldn’t get there till I turned 7…okay, technically, even at that age I still could NOT go in that universe, so I took my mom’s bracelet -I know that I’m not a good role-model, but I was DESPERATE, I asked her each year on my birthday (to be more convincing), and guess what she told me…I’ll make a scheme to show you my agony: -3years=No.

                  -4years=No!

                  -5years=NO!

                  -6years=NOO!

                  -7years=NOOO!

                So, it turns out that I’ve woken up for 8 years (1 year was under warranty) at 6 am because I had a “noghtmare” (eh, eh, get it…anyway, I wanted to make a pun but I noticed that no one laughed…L-LET’S KEEP GOING).

                  Ok, so when I first got in, I saw… a party with ponies and rainbows, that is what you were thinking...well, YOU’RE WRONG, it was just an unending war with random characters, it means that Batman could fight Bambi or something like that. Anyway! I looked around, everything was a chaos, but I’ve noticed something weird, I realized that everyone in there was fighting for a purpose or covering themselves or conquering new territories, so I made up a purpose too…the most important one. The thing that actually matters is that someone must clean this mess, a person that must be good, brave, and WORTHY FOR SUPREME LOYALTY, a creature that will stop this disaster.

And that’s why I’m…going to find it, what did you think that I am the person, no, not even a word, I won’t get into those knuckleheads, they freak me out.

                So, I transformed myself into a mouse and tried to reach the closest spot to hide (a rock…t-there will be many rocks in this story). And exactly when I thought that I’m safe, a giant robot crushed me (obviously I didn’t die because after you are crushed, sliced, shot, burnt, etc. you get back to your home dimension). But a second before game over I saw an iconic red color being, with deep black eyes that penetrate souls, three fox tails, two fox ears and one fox nose, who wore a leaf that covered all of its body, and who appeared to be a little bit confused by the chaos behind him, but in the end, he still crossed the road, very chill, to resolve his problems. I scanned it to have it like “skin” in the future (Minecraft users in the public, or Standoff or PUBG, whatever) but what future, because that stupid stack of iron CRUSHED ME:

                  --Hmm, what if I turn in that thing? I did it. Ew, this leaf doesn’t work on me… therefore, I changed. I was wearing a blue vest, white shirt, black jeans and brown boots…BOOM, it’s betTEEEER! I was screaming because a giant iron sole was going to crush me again (I would give a reply but I don’t have one…OH, WAIT, it looks like we can’t STEP inside without being CRUSHED by hospitality, HA HA, I’m a horrible pun maker…BACK TO THE STORY). However, I’m talking about one second before the impact, I ran but not like a penguin, I ran like FLASH:

                    --WHAT THE…WOW, I am running with the speed of light (clearing throat), doesn’t matter, now let’s find that person…I will look over mountains and valleys, lakes and oceans, and I will be recognized like “The random girl who brought the hero of this world” … after I will visit this place with the super-speed thing. Now I think I went through 3 kingdoms -I despite no one saw me- And then I arrived on a land with a dense fog, without…(cough)…clEAn AiR:

                    --NO…I need…(COUGH)…to continue mY qUeSt-not too far away from me stand a humanoid silhouette…at least that’s what I thought…however, I started to scream, powerless: PLEASE…(COUGH)…YOU, THE STRANGER IN THE HORIZON …I’M VERY YOUNG…EVEN IF I APPEAR TO BE IN MIDDLE AGE FROM THE DISTANCE AND UNCLEAN AIR! I fainted waking up in a cave:

                  --(Clearing throat again)…Uh, where am I? I said after being a little dizzy.

                   Suddenly a sound came out of nowhere, like a growl:

                  --W-what? Who’s there? I asked scared. An animal came out of shadow, actually it was the same animal that I saw a few moments ago: You again! What do you want for appearing in those mysterious ways? the animal growled harder showing its big fangs: Uuuh, what BIG fangs you got there, buddy, ha, ha! Wait do I have fangs too?! What’s your name? No, no, no, how do your friends call you? I have many questions about…you…I was slowly going back, because the animal was slowly coming to me. Unfortunately, I reached the end of the cave: Understand that I mean no harm, although we are in the same species, no…I scanned you, didn’t I…I scanned you…and I transformed into you, I hope you don’t want to…EAT ME?! I said with a worried expression.

                    After the last phrase the humano-animal -partial human, partial animal- for a second it stopped, and then it came rapid, got its huge bloody red color claws out -literally anything is red on you? – Well in that moment I nodded and I said:

                      --N-nice…c-claws. Did you do your manicure?... the best pun that I could tell to a creature with an unpredictable behavior, oh and more than that,

before I didn’t know if she/he was furious or happy, because I was seeing just his/her dark eyes -even the gender is unknown-, and after that innocent joke its eyes changed a lot, they were yellow with a keen red iris. “OH MY GOD I’M SO DEAD!” I said to myself…BUT yes, of course, I can’t die in this dimension, yeah thank you for reminding me, I don’t need to worry…just if I bump into a particularly type of being…a being that can destroy anyone and anything…

                          Is known about an ancient legend that reveals some sort of creatures, warriors, who disintegrate everything that stays in their way, although it doesn’t exist in their dimension, it’s speculated that those legendary creatures are the most dangerous beings in the multiverse…who told me? ... Mama told me!... Ok I don’t know how those legends look, but I hope that the respective humano-animal wasn’t a part of those fighters -WAIT A SECOND I HAVEN’T NAMED THE GUY YET, hmmm…let’s see…Neferis…no, to Grecian…Falohe, no, to Hawaiian, hmmm…Do…Ba…Aaaa I know, Zentofea, why this name? I DON’T KNOW!

                      Back to the story: That Zentofea -Oh gosh, I love this name- came closer to me being just as predictable as unpredictable like before, but the Zeantofea…Zen-a-to-fe-a?... seeming to be more furious. I said quickly:

                      --WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME! the Zento- Agh- that humano-animal, appeared to attack me, …but no, he/she? Destroyed the boulder behind me to make clear way to the outside world…really nice gesture from a   wild animal…By the way, after that giant stone, there was a pasture full of cold crystal flowers - why didn’t they named them ice flowers-: WOW, I hope you wanted to do this for the first time, because you might just miss and… Ya’ know…

                       At first, the animal had a disapproving look, and then it smiled and leaved:                    

                       --Ok…anyway…I’M GOOD! Now I seriously need to find that person, the battlefield is getting dirty, and I don’t want to clean the mess…I made a few turns in the pasture…aaand then I got lost…Um…I think I should go in that way…or that way…or…that…way…uuuh, …HEEEELP! After the previous phrase a humano-animal came out of the forest near the pasture: DUDE, if I owe you, every time you appear, I’ll buy you a yacht. Then the animal came closer, showing itself not being a Zentofea, but a humano-animal with a body of a wolf, a more evolved wolf, with human head and some different sized crystals placed uniform on the fluffy chest -I should wear glasses.

                       It came and smelled me:

                       --Uuuh, are you some sort of dog? it has stopped from smelling for a second and showed his sharp fangs… sharper than Zentoffe-a’s ones -I’m still thinking how to pronounce it correctly-…anyway…of course I got scared: UUUH, GOOD BOY, GOOD BOY, SIT! He growled: WHAT, DID I OFFENDED YOU IN SOME WAY?!SAY! LOOK I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU ARE, BUT TO KNOW THAT TODAY IS MY FIRST DAY IN HERE, AND ALL THE ANIMALS ALREADY HATE ME!

                        --Get out of our territory, Zentofea!

                       --Ooooh, so it’s pronounced Zentofe-e-a, ok I noted AND HEY, HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT NAME, and did you say “OUR territory”!? after that phrase, a bunch of more humano-animals came out of the forest. Ya’ know, don’t ya’ think you have to many friends? They were slowly approaching me, I know, you think that I could’ve escaped, but the answer is NO, I couldn’t escape because I was surrounded, and I also know I could have jumped, but those animals seemed to have springs instead of legs, really now, I think they evolved from kangaroos…Siberian kangaroos. Many of those animals had an white with a little of black fur, WE C-CONTINUE: So I was there surrounded by those oversized human-headed dumb dogs, I was helpless, TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII- increase the suspense-IIIIIIIIIIIILLL … nothing happened, I’m kidding, I figure it out that:” BUT WAIT I HAVE SECRET WEAPONS TOO!”. I tried to annoy myself to get my claws out, first time it didn’t work, and then I thought about the most annoying thing for me, not even this worked because I love all the things unless the things that I hate, so I went to Karate, Judo, and putting my fingers in other one’s eyes:

                       --OUCH, WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!

                        --That’s how I know!

                        Even with my MASTER moves, I still couldn’t stop those hundreds of humano-wolves - hmm, surprising- until one bit my tail. In that moment I was angry- I took out the sharp fangs, yellow eyes with small pupil and iris, big claws, now I don’t boast myself, but I took down at least 20 wolves, ok I boast myself a little bit. Doesn’t matter because everything happened in my MIND, after that guy who I put my fingers in his eyes, another one threw a stump in my head.

                         I woke up tied up of a plank, carried by 4 human-wolves -I’ll name them later- to the chief of the tribe. They put me in a cage, still tied, with fire under the cage, very chill. The chief said:

                         --Oh, divine spirit of the frozen forest we give you this offering in exchange of a great dinner.

                         --An offering for a great dinner? Do you know that you can hunt? I mean you’re half wolves after all!

                         --GASP, who would’ve done such a shameful deed!? They looked offended.            

                        --Says the guy who is making an offering to a horse!

                         --It’s a majestic wolf!

                         --Riiight, you really aren’t good at sculpture!

                         --Oh, yes, we are, everyone is criticizing us, and why aren’t you worried, you’ll be burnt, are you a player?

                         --OF COURSE, I AM -a brilliant idea just crossed my mind- n-not…of course I am NOT a player, because I’m a destroyer undercover!

                         A sound of surprise came from tribe:

                          --Wait a second why did you smell like a Zentofea?

                          --Well, it’s a special thing that none of you heard about, it’s called perfume!

                          --Oh!

                          --A-and if you don’t untie me, I’ll destroy you ALL!

                          --But if you’re a destroyer and you can destroy us, why didn’t you destroy the rope and the cage already?

                          --Uh- OH, yeah…uh, thanks…I forgot I can… DO… that -I was pretending to concentrate to destroy the cage, but as an amazing coincidence, a thing came out of nowhere and cut the iron box and saved me…still tied up…but free…i-in a way. Uuuuh, yeah, I telepathically sent a message to a recruit to save me, good job soldier! I caressed his head, good part he was fluffy, bad part he pulled out a laser gun from his pocket and pointed it to my forehead, he had 2 guns, the other one was pointed at the public -how dangerous can be a creature with 3 feet high:

                           --Run! Said The Short One, that’s how I call him, with a deep voice.

                           --I would’ve run already, if I haven’t my legs TIED UP!

                           --A Zentofea has stronger muscle power in lower limbs!

                           --…Yes…

                           --…That means that you can rip the string that ties your legs!

                           --Ooooh! I ripped the strings and I ran… after a few seconds I stopped and I returned to The Short One.

                           --WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING, I TOLD YOU TO RUN!

                           --I won’t let you down!

                           --I’ve been here more than you so I learned a lot in my time!

                           --Ok, I trust you on this, but can I do somethin’?

                            --Yes, try to survive!

                            --…I hope I can do that!

                            Well, it appears that The Short One had a plan to escape from that situation, I don’t know how, but The Short One shot with the laser gun in a cold crystal (ice), bounced off another two cold crystals (two pieces of ice), and then to the base of a tree, that rip causing a chain reaction, putting down tree by tree, the last tree falling in front of the angry crowd:

                           --WOOOOW!

                           --COME ON, I CREATED A DIVERSION!

                           --But, wait, how did you know that tree was going to fall in front of them? I have said while I was running with The Short One.

                           --D-do you really want to know?

                           --Uh, yes?

                           --Really, no one has asked me about this for a decade!

                           --Uh, about what?

                           --Science stuff…oh my God…I’m…so…excited…(clears throat) ok I’ll tell you…GASP, first time I calculated the area between the laser gun and the target, and then I’ve calculated the variables- he continued talking until I realized that we both have stop from running.

                           --Uh, dude ya know…an entire squad of human-wolves with six packs is like…following us!

                           --…And then I measured…

                           --…Uh, maaan?

                           --…But the distance was equal with…

                           --I beg you to stop!

                           --…So, I created a way to…

                           --Sigh, who am I kidding? I took him by the arm and jumped in a tree.

                           --…Although if I would’ve taken the theory…

                           --CAN YOU KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT…please? I put my hand to his mouth and I pointed to the tribe that passed us.

                             --Oh, yeah, I-I’m sorry!

                             --Look, man, I understand your excitement, I think you’re a little lonely here by your independent character, but can ya wait until we get rid of this dorks?        

                             --Yeah, I know, and by the way I’m a girl!

                             --You are a girl, but how do you have such a deep voice? SHE took her mask off!

                             --It’s a changing voice device, dear!  

                             --Oh. My. Goodness. YOU ARE SO CUTE! I think she was the cutest specie of humano-animal that I’ve ever met in my life. I hugged her… SHE WAS FLUFFY!

                             --Look, that’s why I’m always wearing a mask…ok, this and other 3 reasons!

                             --Daaww, why, like someone would really attack you?

                             --Yes, many would attack me, players, qualified and unqualified hunters, maybe…MY OWN ENEMIES!?

                             --Aaww, but wait, you have enemies?

                             --Yes!

                             --Why?

                             --Because of my high intelligence!

                             --Really, well, that means that you have common enemies with many of your species.

                             --Meh, not really, I’m a very rare case, usually creatures in my species are…

                             --Let me guess, dumb, goofy, jerks, but with no reason?  

                             --I wanted to say idiots, but your description is much more extensive.

                             --I know how it feels, I mean a lot of people from my species are like that!

                             --Zentofea?

                             --No, humans…but I have one question, how does everybody know about this name? I named that creature!

                             --Uh, no, it has been named like that since forever!    

                             --How?...

                             --Look, stop asking useless questions and care about your purpose!

                             --My purpose…OH YEAH, MY PURPOSE, I FORGOT ABOUT IT!

                             --How can you forget your own objective?

                             --My PURPOSE…is that an ocean? I’d said while I was exiting the forest.

                             --Yes, the terrestrial space from this planet is predominant in isles and archipelagos!

                             --DAMN IT, how am I going to cross the ocean now?

                             --But why do you want to cross it? Do you need to cover a territory?

                             --No…

                             --Do you want to conquer a territory?

                             --…No…

                             --Then why do you want to cross the ocean?

                             --I want to change the world!

                             --Wait, you want to change the world…alone?

                             --Nope, that’s why I’m looking for a person to help me!

                             --Wow, really…wow, you’re the first person who said that! Hey, HEY, what are you doing? I took off my boots, I rolled up my jeans and I tried to run above the water, for 3 seconds I really have run above the water, and then I began to sink. I swam back to the beach.

                              --So, do you wanna tell me…where…the heck…were you thinking?

                              --I thought that I could run on water.

                              --Kiddo, if in your dimension exists some force who keep things together, however are you calling…

                              --Gravity…

                              --I knew about that name, I’m a genius, I just wanted to clarify that you know what I’m talking about…What I wanted to say, is that, the respective force exists in this universe too, but it acts with a different attraction.

                              --Aha, so what other idea do you have?

                              --Hmmm, first, you still didn’t answer the previous question!

                              --Well, I think the person might be after the ocean!

                            --Do you think that this motivation is certain, I mean isn’t assuming an attempt to know something that can be inexistent, do you really think, in this life anything can have a scope, don’t you think that life is an illusion meant to prepare us of everything what can be beyond the bars of reality?

                              I remained without words:

                              --I made this up 10 seconds ago, what’s so hard to understand?

                              --No, no…I-I understood!

                              --Then why are you doing this!

                              --Um, I don’t know…I think I just needed an adventure!

                              --Then why did you choose to change this world?

                              --I don’t kn-…YOU KNOW WHAT, leave me alone with those weird questions, you’ll provoke me an existential crisis!

                              --Ok!

                              --I just wanted to know How. Can. I. Cross. THE DAMN OCEAN?  

                              --Stay chill kid, I’ve got this! She took out a thing from her pocket and she blew in it, then a 45 feet animal came out of water and it wasn’t a blue whale. A little help from a seahorse!

                               --You can’t put the words “seahorse” and “little” referring to that thing!

                               --Oh, yes, I can. Player, say hi to Rudolf!

                               --RUDOLF? WHAT ARE YOU…SANTA…THE BARBARIAN!?

                               --Not really. Rudolf, say hello to the player! He said hello…i-in his language.

                               --Yep, I’m clearly going to make a raAAF- the monster picked me and sank into the water!

                               --Bye, bye, bon voyage through the ocean!

                               The monster took me to a temple under the water. In temple:

                                --COUGH…when I said to cross the ocean I DIDN’T MEAN UNDER WATER! All the torches in the room blew up.

                                --Greetings, my dear child! Said an old lady when she appeared from nowhere in front of my face.

                                --HOLY SHAMALAMA…sigh…ma’am I think you have the wrong person!

                                --No, no, that’s how I tell to the visitors!

                                --Ooo, so, you have tourists…riiight!

                                --No, every new player comes to me for the closet! She showed me like a Chinese closet -I made a redundancy, everything is made in China.

                                 --Closet, do you have problems with the furniture?

                                 --No, they get in it!

                                 --So…you kidnap kids... I’m calling the police!

                                 --No, you didn’t understand, it will be worth, plus is no police station in the middle of the ocean!

                                 --You’re the creepiest person I’ve ever met in my life!

                                 --Many people say that! Now, come on, it doesn’t bite!

                                 --At least I got rid of a fear! I got in the closet, immediately after I got in, I remained unconscious and I woke up in another world.

                                 I’ve heard a girly voice:

                                 --WARM WELCOME TO THE DIMENSION OF THOUGHTS! Said a grey colored skin girl with black clothes and amber colored eyes. And I’m the Spirit of Thoughts!

                                 --AAAAA!

                                 --Hmm, I thought that a Zentofea wouldn’t fear of literally everyone who says hello!

                                 --How did you know about that…AND MORE IMPORTANT, HOW DOES EVERYBODY KNOWS ABOUT THAT NAME!?

                                 --Well, first, I know what every player thinks, and second, I know about that name because I put it!

                                 --But ho-

                                 --How do I know that? Well, the answer is in the name, MY NAME, DUH!

                                 --And how did I-

                                 --And how did you name it? Ho ho, well, that’s simple kid, it’s because all of those subliminal messages that I left around the place!

                                 --If-

                                 --If I control the thoughts, why didn’t I end the war, yet? …It’s because that war shouldn’t end, it’ll declare the true leader of this world, like you said it must be a good, brave, and worthy person to clean this mess.

                                --An-

                                --And that means-

                                --Oh, will you please let me talk?

                                --Ok, go ahead!

                                --…And that means I’ll have to fight to make a little difference?

                                --Kid, I think that you will change the whole world, trust me, I don’t say this to any other player…but you have to fight for that, although it’s like the real life!

                                --Yeah…it is!

                                --…So, are you ready for your first match?

                                --Y-yes…yes, I do! Let the game begins.

#The Spirit Of Thoughts(me) #Isabela #F35A #The Short One #Rudolf #creepy lady #human-headed dumb dogs #Zentofea #my first post

[satsuki2406]

OPEN SKY  Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"...And never, ever forget that, your dreams are the wings that'll help you fly."

(L/N)(Y/N) has always been forced to live according to others' expectations. As a member of the powerful and influential (L/N) Family, she has had to live with the heavy weight of seeing others write her destiny with no choice but just obey. But when (Y/N) finally decides to risk it all to take the only opportunity to regain the control of her own life, everything ends up going horribly wrong. Surrendered and disappointed, she receives one last chance to prove to herself and to U.A, along with some unexpected help that this was not a crazy and meaningless waste of time.

Maybe this plan could work after all...

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of sex, My poor attempt of comedy, family dysfunctionality, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: Failure

Chapter 2: Sometimes the Greatest Hero of All is a Good Friend

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

3-Her Start

The weekend you spent with your best friend was full of good memories and laughter. You recovered your self-trust and conviction to keep going. But as blissful as it was it quickly came to an end. Before you knew it, it was Monday again, which means school, fortunately, this was the last week before graduation, even if you mom forced you to go to that insipid private academy in Tokyo, you'll keep chasing your aspirations no matter what. It was still I little bit cold but the weather was slowly changing as the spring got closer. Over your school uniform, you were wearing the school uniform’s coat that had their logo embroidered and your fluffy (f/c) scarf to keep you warm on your way to the school door.

In the blink of an eye, you and Momo already got to the shoe lockers to change into your respective uwabaki.* While changing your shoes a thought came to your mind, you wanted to touch the matter but didn't know how without making things awkward. "Hey Momo, your test, for the recommended students, you already had it right?"

A little taken aback by your comment Momo hesitated a little before answering unsure. "Y-Yeah, that's correct, I wasn't sure if I could tell you, you know..."

"Please don't feel bad about sharing your successes with me, I would be more than happy to hear how it went for you, you're my friend and I feel happy that you're one step closer to your dream, after all, you also want to be a hero, just like me. You were nice enough to spend the last weekend with me to make me feel better I didn't even ask you once how was it for you, I'm a pampered brat, aren’t I?"

Momo smiled sweetly at you in understanding. "What about if I fill you out on the details of my day at U.A during lunch?"

"Sounds like a plan."

🍱🍱🍱

"Alright ladies this is all for today, there are another 5 minutes before the bell rings. So, you're allowed to socialize in the meantime, please let's keep things calm and low volume please."

"Hey, Momo!~ I've got an idea! They are showing a really good movie right now! Do you want to see it with me?"

"I'll love to, but my mother requested my presence at home as soon as school is finished, my chauffeur is already waiting for me outside, so, unfortunately, I see myself unable to go. But aren't you still grounded?"

"Oh, right, I forgot it..." You puffed off your cheeks in annoyance.

Just in cue, a small vibration came from your skirt pocket adverting you of an incoming message.

'Oh, is Nobu-san, I wonder what happened?'

Good afternoon (Y/N)-sama, I wanted to notify you beforehand that this morning you received two letters; one of them is from the Tokyo's Science Academy, probably respecting your upcoming enrollment.

'Ugh, of course...'

Regarding the second letter, the U.A’s crew is way competent and faster than we thought, I made sure to put the envelope under one of your bed pillows, please make sure to check it out as soon as you arrive home so Xiù-sama won't notice it. I already sent the chauffeur to pick you up as soon as possible.

"."

".."

"..."

"...."

"....."

"WhAaAt?!"

"(L/N)-san! I strongly urge you to refrain from shouting in class!"

"S-sorry, Tanaka-sensei" The slight giggles of your classmates could be heard, but it was short-lived thanks to the shrill sound of the school bell announcing the end of the school day.

"(Y/N) are you ok? You look a bit pale. Something happened at home?" Momo asked, but unfortunately for your friend the last of your worries was explain yourself. Without giving it too much of a thought you took your school bag and burst out the class."SorryMomonotimetoexplainseeyoutomorrowbyeeee!!"

Before she could even understand what you just said, Momo couldn't do anything more than see you disappear among the crowd flooding the halls.

"What in heaven just happened?"

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

After sprinting to the school gate, you could spot in the distance a black limo, Sasaki-san, the same chauffeur that brought your mom to U.A that fateful afternoon one week ago, was waiting outside the car, straight as a lamppost with a serious almost bored look on his face. After you finally approached him, he lightly bowed his head and greeted you. "Good afternoon, (Y/N)-sama, I hope you had a pleasant day" His tome was monotone and robotic, almost like he just repeated a script that had learned out of habit at this point. "Good afternoon Sasaki-san, I did thank you, and yourself?" 

“Lovely indeed” he said almost sarcastically and opened the car's door for you. You quickly made your way in and he closed the door behind you.

Lost in your thoughts time passed faster than you imagined. Before you could notice a glimpse of your house appeared among the trees. The imposing structure made its way through the vast gardens that adorned its surroundings.

You wanted to just get there and finally get the closure you needed about this whole situation, leave your guilt and disappointment behind so you could start over again and move forward to your goal in a more positive note. Up to your room was a blur, you think that maybe a couple of maids greeted you on your way but you were too busy to notice or care, did you even take your shoes off at the genkan*? Who knows, who cares.

You opened your door desperately, closing and locking it to avoid being interrupted. Fixing your eyes on the exact place your fate laid made your heart race like never before, you started walking there slowly, almost cautiously, to sprint with all your might, throwing yourself at the bed and tossing the soft obstacles in your way to find in the middle, a crisp white envelope with a red wax seal, with the iconic logo printed on it. Dread and uncertainty invaded you, were you ready for this? What if they think you were not hero material after all? ‘No! let's just rip the bandit off at once and get over this already’. With a surge of newfound courage, you opened the envelope, tearing the seal apart in the process. Once it was open you could find a letter and a round metal object inside, you took it in your hand to analyze it closer but suddenly a bright light was shooted from its center, startling you and letting it fall obstreperously on the floor.

"Ahhh!"

The light then elongated and shaped itself into some kind of screen, showing what looks to be some kind of small white animal. "Greetings, young lady! My name is Nezu, the one who could be a mouse or a dog or a bear but the only important thing is...I'm the Principal!"

"T-The Principal?!"

"Very well then, I assume that you would prefer me to go right to the point, you must be anxious right now" You gulped nervously and nodded your head as he could see you. "In your written exam you got an outstanding score of 87! Well done!"

'At least I did something right' You thought melancholically.  

"But..."

'Here it comes'

"...Unfortunately, you weren't that successful during your practical exam, in the end, you only earned 31 points, that, as you must know, is not enough to approve this test, since the minimal score is 45"

'I knew it...'

Your vision started to get blurred due to the fat tears that started to accumulate in your eyes. You knew this would happen, but that didn't make it less frustrating.

“However, there’s something that especially caught my attention, and although I’m not a doctor or any medicine specialist by any means I noticed you looked a little off, sick perhaps.Your movements looked sluggish, your breathing seem even more labored than it would have been in the situation you were in not to mention you passed out in the middle of the exam.”

“You’ll see, here at U.A we take special care of the whole process involved in our admission trials, not only to make sure that every single step is performed correctly, the rules are followed and the safety measures compiled but also to prevent the usual improper practices like fraud and cheating, reason why we had installed thousands of cameras with the propose to keep a close eye on all of you.”

'Wow, U.A really goes over the top about everything' You sweatdropped.

"That's the reason why after analyzing your performance carefully, the teaching staff and myself were awed when we notice that indeed you were straining yourself and even managed to save one of the applicants of the attack of a three-pointer, with the last of your strength you pushed him far away from danger knowing the little time you had and your deteriorated condition, you sacrificed yourself for the wellbeing of a stranger, without hesitation"

"Save? But I thought I could do anything at all!-"

"There's a phrase that says that we rise by lifting others, thanks to your selfless help, this young man you saved could complete his test and also had the time and strength enough to get your back after you blacked out. He was also nice enough to handle you to Recovery Girl's capable hands. As you could see, you received some extra points in your final score, these were Rescue Points, a panel of judges conformed by the teachers watch closely these battles and award this kind of heroic gestures, which boosted your original score of 14 points."

"And is because of your heroic spirit that I'm here, in front of you, to make you an offer.” Your breathing hitched, your eyes opened like saucers and you could swear that your heart stopped for a second. 

“We of course never do this kind of exceptions, a once in a lifetime opportunity per se, but I, the Principal, had decided to give you a chance to start again, it may be more competitive than the first test you took but, what is the life of a hero without a good challenge?"

"A-A second chance?!" Your teary eyes widened at this revelation. Was U.A, the U.A High School, not only seeing the potential in you but also wanting to give you another chance?!

'This is so crazy!' You thought tearing up.

"Usually some students, as a precautionary measure apply for both the Hero Course and the General Studies Course, in case they fail to get in the first one, if they meet the necessary requirements could hit a spot in the latter one, with the hopes of competing internally for one of the coveted positions in our prestigious Heroism Department...."

"God! What I didn't think of that?! Like a security net that will catch you in case you fall, clever..." You pondered

"As you well know you did not opt for this, but we had decided unanimously to make a space for you in the General Studies Course as your second chance and a fresh start here, at U.A."

"As I mentioned before, the competition is more ferocious internally because of the really small quantity positions, sometimes there's only one transferred student or not transfers at all, so you must work hard because you need at least 85% of approval from the teachers to get into the Hero course."

"So, I need to make merits to get in, I wonder how though-"

"You must be wondering, how to get that approval and enter the world of your dreamed career?!  Let me enlighten you then! There are several ways to do this but the most common and effective is..."

"...Is?!"

"Is...!"

"The U.A Sports Festival! The annual competition that Japan is so crazy about that forgot about the Olympic Games and where everybody can take a look at the future and witness the rising of their future heroes! And of course the perfect place for you to show what you're made of! The U.A Sports Festival not only is a great chance for the Hero Course pupils to show their abilities, but for the ones who were left behind, that they also have a lot to offer, and a chance that I'm sure you won't waste at all."

"I won't!"

"So please, let us know what you think, We already see inmense potential on you, we think-no, we believe that you will not disappoint. All the important information, forms and consent letters are attached and listed inside the envelope, if you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact us at our website www.uahigh.com.jp/newstudentexperience to chat live with one of our representatives or call us at 1-800-UAHIGHJ (1-800-824-4445) or drop by at our headquarters in U.A. Remember that the due date to send the forms with your parents' authorization and uniform measurements and specifications is March 25th!"

"Oh my God, I got in... I GOT IN!!! Yes, I did it!" You then started to jump on your bed carried by the excitement, then a little detail crossed your mind. "Crap! My mom would never sign the authorization form! She'll rather take off her own eyes than do that! I don't want to involve dad in this, he's been receiving mom's colder shoulder lately and he looks kinda depressed, just remember the fight hey had that night give me the hives. What can I do? How can I-"

"This device will self-destruct in 10 seconds!"

"...What."

"10!"

"9!"

"Oh God, Oh God No! WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!!"

"8!"

As best as you could you quickly jumped off your bed and hid inside your walk-in closet closing and locking the door behind you. "Was it that necessary to make it explode?!" You closed your eyes and covered your ears as waiting for some kind of impact.

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Just kidding! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"..."

"WHAAAAT?!"

"Excuse me (Y/N)-sama? Are you ok?" One of the maids asked while knocking your door. You ran out of the closet and threw all evidence of your recent conversation with the fury Principal under your bed.

"Y-Yes! I'm fine! P-Perfectly fine!"

"I heard some screams and voices inside; do you have any guest? Do you want me to bring some refreshments?" Immediately you opened the door and were faced with the maid that you liked the least, she was a middle-aged woman who always drove herself in a hypocritical and double-face kind of way.

You could see from pretty far away that she didn't like you the least, looking her in the eyes was enough to know, the resentment and indifference were palpable. For her, you were nothing more than a spoiled filthy rich brat and that was more than enough to hate you. She also was a notable gossipmonger and was of general knowledge among the service crew that she could not keep a secret for dear life, which your mother took advantage of to monitor you and the house in general when she was absent. All in exchange of a juicy bonus in her weekly check.

"There's nobody with me Uwasaki-san, I was watching some YouTube videos, and an ad came out, a really loud one." You opened your door a little more to show her, she peeked into your room a little to look closer, everything was in order, except for the dropped pillows and a panda plush, it was just like you said, all she could find was a flat screen with a paused video showing in it.

She gave you a skeptical look first before convincing herself you were saying the truth and gave you one of her infamous fake smiles. "I see, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to let me know, I'll be close by fixing one of the guest's rooms."

"Oh, who's coming?" You asked, half trying to diffuse the awkwardness, half out of truly curiosity.

"Kaguya-sama, she asked Xiù-sama for advice in one of her university projects, Chemistry I think"

'It makes sense, with the kind of quirk she has, chemistry was always one of her strengths'

"I see."

"Alright, if you excuse me, I'll be taking my leaving."

After this, she turned and walk in the direction of the guest's rooms mumbling complains about how slow this day has been so far, with nothing interesting to report, not juicy scandal to uncover and how she hoped that the rest of the week could deliver something better. As you heard her steps get lost in the immensity of the hallway, checking she was gone for sure, you closed your door leaning your back on it while you slowly slide to the floor.

'That was close!, I've never been happier to forget to turn the tv off before going to school, I must be careful, I have to find a way to convince them to let me go, after the second chance I received, I can't back up, I don't want to. It's decided then! I’ll go to U.A no matter what.'

"Hmm... So, U.A? Maybe get you out of my way would be easier than I thought, dear cousin."

*Uwabaki (上履き): They are a type of Japanese shoes worn indoors at home, school or certain companies and public buildings where street shoes are prohibited.

*Genkan (玄関): are traditional areas for houses, apartments or buildings. It is usually located inside the building directly in front of the door. The primary function of the genkan is to leave your shoes before entering the main part of a house or building.

-The word 'Uwasa' (噂) means gossip combined with the kanji 'Ki' (機) or machine forms the word Rumor or Gossip Machine (噂機) Uwasaki.

-I'm learning Japanese on my own, so I thought it could be interesting and fun to try to construct some (Last)names inspired in the oc’s quirks and personality just like Horikoshi does. As I said I'm a beginner and all the feedback is welcome! If you have suggestions or corrections let me know! I'm open to learning! 😊 

🏷Taglist

@alex-sulli​  Hope you like it ~\(≧▽≦)/~

#bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfic #my hero academia fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha #mha #bakugou #bakugo #fem reader #angst #fluff #Multichapter #series #fem oc #male oc #dysfunctional family #friendship to love #shinsou needs more screen time #yaoyorozu #momo #yaomomo

[jeanstoppable]

20th & 21st OF OCTOBER

~change the channel~ (substitute)

~island in the sun~

(A/N: I cannot, for the life of me, make these prompts shorter. But anyways, here’s some more of my Cyberpunk oc and a bit of world building)

WARNING: Mentions of Drug Use/Dark themes

The door shut with a soft click, the metal barrier cancelling out the harsh and turbulent noise of the downpour outside, as a clear ping pierced the silence of the room, signalling the automatic lock being completed.

I tossed the drenched sling bag somewhere on the floor, hearing it land but not bothering to check where, and started peeling the equally wet jacket off my torso, leaving me in a sleeveless black top.

I should take a shower first. I thought. But my legs didn’t move towards the bathroom to my far right, instead my eyes were fixated on the desk beside my bed, and then gradually brought them up on the old painting displayed right above it.

Later. This can’t wait. Heart and mind decided, I shuffled over to the desk in a sense of urgency, grabbed the painting by its sides and then plucked it from the hook. Flipping the frame around, a black plate covered the back of the canvas. With familiar ease, I slid my fingers across the upper corner edges and found the latch, successfully unfastening the plate to unveil a couple of worn-out journals hidden inside. Untouched.

A breath of relief escaped me, my fear of the notebooks being discovered momentarily disappearing.

I picked out the one I’ve been using as of late—the tenth one if I recall correctly, since I’ve already used up every bit of space from the others—and opened the journal where it had a bookmark.

The yellowed blank pages were a frequent sight as I ran a hand across the smooth surface while my other hand pulled a pen from a cup that was also holding a heap of markers and then started writing my thoughts—

It was a common enough phrase.

“CHANGE THE CHANNEL”

It doesn’t pique interest, at least to...someone like me, so it shouldn’t raise any suspicions, right?

I hovered the nib of the pen slightly above the paper, thinking if I should continue to write about the news we’ve received today. It was shocking enough that I even had to pinch myself a couple of times to see if I was dreaming or not because the news wasn’t just good nor great---it was the best fucking thing I’ve heard in years and it also just happens to be the one we’ve all been waiting for.

Setting down the pen, I reached for the hidden compartment again, took the very first journal I owned and then absently flipped through the filled pages, the crisp, crinkling sounds tenderly jogging my memory.

I stopped at the beginning of the notebook, a reminiscing smile graced my lips as I traced the old ink with the tip of a finger.

Don’t let anyone steal this.

I snorted, of course, this was written on the day I got my ass beat and left without so much of a coin in my pocket—thus, I was forced to resort to stealing. Strangely enough, this journal was the first thing I stole and to this day, I can’t seem to remember the reason why but I do remember how awful the act made me feel, the feeling lasted for days.

Nonetheless, those feelings subsided after getting accustomed to this lifestyle. Crime practically lived and breathed under my skin, these hands and feet of mine becoming my very own accomplices.

I closed my eyes as the usual barrage of emotions washed over me: disappointment, disgust, anger, hate—so much hate and all of it was directed at the only person I can blame at the moment.

Well to be fair, not once did I deny the indisputable fact that I hated how my life turned out, how everything turned out considering that there’s no one even left to impress, no one to see me pretend as if I wasn’t so horribly broken-down on the inside.

I hated how I was still here, anchored by some self-righteous bullshit I’d placed like a burden on my shoulders that one miserable night, a burden that still stubbornly carries the promise of changing the lives of so many other people.

My gaze landed on the scribbled date at the top of the page.

It’s been 6 years since the incident.

I breathed out my nose unevenly and closed the book with a snap, pushing it aside as I returned to the previous journal and picked up the pen to finish today’s log.

It’s happening.. It’s finally happening.

Today marks the fucking day of something revolutionary as we received reports, genuine physical reports, of a planned coup in all of five districts. And I know there had been a lot of them in the past and those who participated lost their lives after being executed on the spot… However, this time around, my gut tells me otherwise.

I think I mentioned this in my previous logs; it’s about the power balance shifting. It began to tip since last year and it hasn’t stopped till now. I fiercely believe that the power will eventually find its way back to us, as it rightfully should.

This was a long time coming after all. Years and years of effort had been put in just to dethrone those who forcefully robbed us of our lives and not just that---Our identities.. Our Family and friends. The voice itself of the public.

Letting out a tortured laugh, I wrote the end of the log:

CHANGE THE CHANNEL

Simple, dismissive and yet it holds the power of treason. It speaks the word of rebellion. I’m not afraid anymore because this phrase will take us one step closer to freedom.

. . .

“...Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Positive.”

I cast my partner a skeptical glance.

“...I’m 80% sure.” He nervously admitted, purposely avoiding my prodding eyes.

A huff of disbelief slipped past my lips as I demanded from him, “What did the message say anyway?”

“It was a recorded message programmed inside a toy, it only said the time and the address before self-destructing. But like I said, I don’t think I got any of the information wrong.”

“Maybe you misheard or missed something because this—”

I swallowed the sentence and did another scan of the building in front of us, our position from an empty terrace across the street granting us to overlook the supposed meeting place, the rendezvous as it turns out was a grand and luxurious night club.

It seemed that access was only given to those in the upper class but since it was fairly new and as far as rumors go, I heard it has an eccentricity to it, so the club wasn’t bustling like the other similar establishments scattered in the district. Still, entry to the venue remains as a privilege only to those who can afford to waste money, in this economy.

I eyed the flashy neon sign just above the main doors with slight distaste and a growing curiosity.

Island in the Sun

The name certainly snatches attention.

After seeing a bunch of people dressed in stylish clothes walk out, I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling a tiny bit insecure about what I’m wearing.

Hell, nothing about my attire was fancy by any means so I shot my partner another worried glance, “Do we really have no further means of communication with them? Do we really have to enter through the front? Can’t we just, you know, sneak inside a window? I mean, we don’t—we’re not—”

I gestured to his clothes and then mine, “We’ll stick out like sore fucking thumbs.”

“You do make a sound point.” He murmured and then lowered his goggles to finally address me, his grey orbs illuminated by the numerous bright neon signs, “I never expected our sponsor to be this...shameless? They’re practically waving their wealth in our faces, makes me wanna take a swipe at them.”

“Arman,” I quietly sighed, “What are we getting ourselves into?”

Is this what having cold feet feels like?

My partner surveyed me for a instant before having the nerve to roll his eyes, “Just treat this as one of our regular heists, Sonya. Aren’t you the least excited to experience what it’s like partying with the upper class?”

I stayed silent, not bothering to tell him that I did have prior experience, and just rubbed my temples, a headache forming at the prospect of how tonight will go.

“Time for a channel change.” My partner winked, his wise words partnered with the small gesture cracked my lips into a smile.

He then put a hand under his chin, thinking carefully as he relayed more of his thoughts, “And maybe get laid by the end of the night.” This time, I was the one to roll my eyes and got a glower from him in exchange.

“You could use it as well… When’s the last time you—”

“Shut the fuck up, Arman.” I tried snapping back but it turned into a laugh instead.

He only grinned toothily, looking guilty but proud, “Less nervous?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Wait.” He said all of a sudden.

I raised a brow in question, my hands already gripping onto the rails, poised to scale down at any moment.

“Clothes.” Arman waved a hand and I grimaced.

“Ah yeah, right.”

A terse silence passed before we both launched smirks at each other, the same heinous idea forming in our minds as he pointed towards a closed clothing shop a few blocks away.

“What say you for one more heist this evening? It won’t be as grandiose as the previous ones, I’m afraid.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

. . .

Your ass looks nice in that.

Yeah? I’m taking this one then.

...Well?

Your ass always looks great, Arman.

So you’re saying mine looks better? Thanks.

Wear a skirt and then we’ll talk.

Oh, Sonya, just watch and learn.

. . .

I leaned against a street light, scrutinising our target club while waiting for my partner to finish finding the ‘perfect outfit’ as he called it, his words not mine. In the end, I settled for a wine coloured fitted dress with a criss-cross pattern exposing my back, a black corset on top, a semi transparent blazer for my shoulders, and then I picked out simple knee length combat boots—in case the deal goes awry and we had to flee.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I peeked over and my jaw dropped as soon as I laid eyes on Arman.

He was wearing a skin tight turtleneck black dress, showing off his lean but toned figure, a beautiful velvet burgundy blazer that looked amazing on his broad shoulders and then his shoes were thick polished combat boots, almost same as mine, the only difference was his heels were an inch higher, making him look taller than he normally is.

I whistled in pure awe, “Damn, Island in the Sun is about to get a whole lot hotter.”

A smug expression graced his handsome features when he walked past me, swaying his ass deliberately, “Told you so,”

I huffed at his haughty but rightfully placed attitude and caught up to him, looping an arm around his, “Well, won’t you tell me—am I your designated arm candy or are you mine?”

“Why can’t we just be both?”

We toned down the volume of our conversation when we neared the establishment, Arman breaking off as he walked up to the main entrance. It was as we expected, one of the large bouncers blocked him immediately and then pointed to the side towards the long line of people waiting for their own turn.

Arman straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms, “We have an appointment with your employer.”

The bouncer examined my partner from head to toe, not looking the least convinced although the second after, he pressed a button on his collar, “Can you direct me to the boss’ line?”

“Hey!” A voice shouted off to the side where the line was, “Wait in line like the rest of—”

I whirled on whoever was speaking and gave them my most vicious glare, that person stopped in the middle of their sentence and then promptly averted their eyes. I scoffed at them.

“Boss, there’s two individuals here that say they have an appointment with you.” The bouncer said, nodding while listening to his receiver and then finally turned back to Arman, “I apologise but the boss doesn’t have any more appointments for tonight.”

Arman took this information calmly and then leaned in, a hand covering his lips as he whispered something to the bouncer, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.

The bouncer’s eyes widened, stared at Arnan and me before ultimately stepping aside, handing us two glowing yellow bracelets, “I’m sorry for the delay, the boss is expecting you.”

My partner brightened and accepted the bracelets, holding me by my wrist as he ushered us past the main entrance. Still confused about the whole ordeal, I reluctantly put on the accessory without saying a word, the bracelet giving a weird sting when it made contact with my skin, and then followed Arman inside.

“What was that?” I asked the moment we’re left alone.

“Did you forget why we’re here?” He quipped back cheerfully and the realisation struck me later than I would have liked.

“...What do you think this is for?” I changed the subject to both our glowing bracelets, raising mine to my eye level just to get a good look at it.

“I don’t know. Gimmicks?” Arman absently rubbed his, faintly knotting his eyebrows and then started inspecting the empty hallway we were walking through, “For a club named Island in the Sun, it doesn’t seem very hot.”

We reached the end of the hallway and the doors opened upon sensing us, revealing another set of corridors, three to be exact that split into different directions: There was muffled music coming from our right, while there’s really faint sounds of people chattering to the left, and then nothing from the one ahead of us.

I took a step towards the middle corridor, figuring it was where we needed to go but Arman blocked an arm in my way, “Don’t you want to check out the other rooms? We might as well explore before we get kicked out after our appointment.”

My expression definitely disapproved of the idea and he could see that, although I think I might’ve surprised him when I agreed to his request, “No more than five minutes.”

His grey orbs gleamed with excitement, “I’ll go this way,” he pointed to the right, “Take the left.” With that said, Arman pivoted and headed for the direction with the music, and I walked towards the left corridor.

The doors were glass so I’d seen what was inside while waiting for them to open.

I scrunched my brows in bewilderment at what awaited me. The room was massive so to say and furthermore, it has a second floor filled with—What were those? There were these weird opaque bubbles that had a hatch on the front with a keypad beside it and almost all of them were lit, vague silhouettes of people moving to and fro inside but nothing more than that.

My eyes landed on the pit with a glass dome in the centre, a couple of people were lounging on long circular couches whilst socialising with each other. I was so focused on the bizarre scene that I didn’t notice the doors sliding open and the cyborg standing off to the side, making me almost jump when it had announced itself.

WELCOME. WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

“I---uh, what...does that mean exactly?” I awkwardly rubbed my nape, feeling the need to occupy my shaking hands as I peered up at the cyborg.

WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DEMONSTRATE HOW OUR ISLANDS WORK?

I simply nodded and the cyborg’s eyes immediately flashed bright, projecting a hologram into the empty space between us, leaving me to watch in wonder as a 3D model of one of the bubbles appeared.

ESSENTIALLY, OUR SPHERICAL ISLANDS ARE DESIGNED TO SERVE AS ADVANCED PRIVATE SUITS FOR SPECIAL CUSTOMERS. ITS CURVED WALLS ARE BUILT-IN WITH HIGH POWERED LED SCREENS THAT LETS YOU PROJECT ANY KIND OF SCENERY YOU’D PREFER AND IT’S ALSO COMPLETE WITH FURNITURE THAT CAN SATISFY TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOUR NEEDS.

The holograms changed and now it showed one of those glowing bracelets.

WHILE YOU’RE INSIDE THE CLUB, WE WILL ALSO EXCLUSIVELY PROVIDE YOU WITH OUR CLUB’S HOTTEST PRODUCT TO MAKE YOUR NIGHT BETTER AND MORE ENJOYABLE.

I frowned, asking warily, “Product?”

I’M PROHIBITED TO EXPLAIN ANY FURTHER DETAILS OF THE PRODUCT. HOWEVER, YOU CAN FIND OUT FOR YOURSELF THROUGH ONE OF OUR ISLANDS, THE PIT, OR IN THE PARTY ROOM.

Something cold settled in my stomach, “The party room...it’s the room opposite this one , right?”

CORRECT. NOW, THAT YOU ARE AWARE OF OUR CLUB’S COMMODITIES, WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

I shook my head, about to refuse the offer when a question crossed my mind, “...How much is one island?”

The cyborg turned off the projection and turned its gaze downwards, scanning my bracelet through its lens.

NO PAYMENT NEEDED FOR VIP CUSTOMERS.

“VIP...?” My throat dried up as I covered the bracelet on my wrist with a hand, “I...won’t be taking an island, thank you.” The cyborg merely bowed and then went back to its corner, waiting for someone new to serve.

“Shit, I have a bad feeling about this.” I said to myself, returning to the intersection from before and making my way towards the party room.

The moment the doors slid open, the music hit me and my eardrums in full blast. I winced at the intensity of it and more so at the large crowd dancing and grooving to the loud beat. It was difficult to even hear my own voice. I internally groaned, how am I supposed to find him at this rate?

Keeping my eyes sharp despite it being extremely dark and the occasional blinding strobe lights, I moved through the mob of people pressed against one another, awkwardly bumping into some people dancing and then sometimes getting pushed back. I bit my lip, refraining from picking a fight as I held on to my rapidly waning patience.

All of a sudden, someone slapped a hand to my ass and the leash briefly snapped—I quickly rounded on that person, a fist almost flying out when I saw that the hand belonged to a man a couple of inches shorter than me with a greasy sneer on his face.

“Do that again...” I fisted his shirt and followed with a violent promise, “And you’ll go home left-handed.” I threatened, my voice brimming with spite.

Once I saw the frightened understanding in his eyes, I released him and turned away. “Arman, you better show yourself right now.” I growled.

Finally, I spotted a familiar burgundy jacket behind a pillar and I set my sights on it, carelessly pushing my way through, ignoring the curses and rude remarks of the people I shoved because I have had enough of this.

I shouldn’t have to search for him.

As I got closer to the pillar, I only noticed then that he was making out with someone. Oh you’re dead. My fingers shot out to grab the shoulder of the man I’ve been searching for, ready to cuss at him till his ears fall off.

“Oi! What the fuck happened to five minutes?!”

I halted as I met face to face with a stranger, and not at all my partner, “A-ah, I’m sorry I thought you were—“ My eyes flicked towards the person standing beside them.

“Arman!” I shouted, obviously relieved to see him alright but then remembered I was still pissed off, “What the hell? I was looking all over for you!”

His eyebrows creased for a moment before a loopy smile graced his lips, “Sonya! I’m sorry, I got a bit distracted…” Arman’s gaze trailed off to the side but at the same time, he gripped the waist of the man he kissed earlier closer to his body.

I gawked at him. Honestly speechless. But then I lashed out a hand to circle around his wrist, the one with that damned bracelet, and discovered that the yellow glow was at half now.

This was their exclusive product.

I fumed as I took out a spare light from the pocket of my blazer and yanked his head down to my level, “Let me see your fucking eyes.”

I shined the light on them and noticed how bloodshot they were, his pupils were unusually blown wide. I cursed again, letting out my frustrations, “Arman, you’re blazed!”

“What?! No, no, no. I-I haven’t taken any.” He stumbled over his words, making me doubt him even more.

“Excuse me.” A new voice piped in.

I flipped my attention to Arman’s...date? Lover? Who the hell cares, I completely forgot he was even there, “Aren’t you being a bit rude? Who are you anyways?” The man asked snobbishly while squinting at me.

I glared back, a dangerous smile framing my painted lips, “I’m his girlfriend. Who are you?”

“Sonya!” Arman yelled in disbelief.

The man mouth hung open and then tried explaining himself, “I-I’m—“

I held up a finger, “You know what, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” Locking an arm around Arman’s, I pulled him away from the man and roughly dragged him across the dance floor and towards the exit.

Once we got back to the main hallway, I let him go and stared him down with my arms placed on my hips, “What was that, Arman?” I gritted out, trying to be as calm as I can without blowing a fuse.

“Give me a minute.” He panted, “It’s so damn hot, ugh.”

“What are you saying, you’ve only been in there for less than twenty minutes.” I looked at him confused but then clearly saw the heavy perspiration forming on his skin, “Hey...you’re sweating really bad.”

“I’m sorry, Sonya.” He apologised, breathing large gulps of air while leaning on the wall, “I’m sorry you had to cover for me back there.”

My gaze softened as I stood beside him, “It’s nothing…”

“I know I really screwed up for not being careful, but I swear—Sonya, I swear I didn’t take any drugs.” Arman gripped my arms, looking me wildly in the eyes.

“Don’t worry..I believe you.” I assured him, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “It might’ve been that stuck-up date of yours, did you notice him touch your bracelet while you were together?”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, a deeply disturbed expression slowly contorted his features, “Yeah...Yeah, he did.”

I let out a rough exhale, controlling the rage that sweeped me off, now twice as strong, “If I ever see that fucker—“

A hand on my shoulder pulled my attention back as I faced Arman, letting him see the murderous expression on my features.

“The appointment.” He reminded me softly.

“...Right…right. Are you sure you’re okay now?”

He pushed off the wall and gave me a tiny smile that broke my heart.

“...You know, you’re giving Tilly a run for her money—I mean, showing up to a sponsor’s meeting high? Not even she has the balls to do that.”

Arman chuckled, a dark look passing his expression as he bitterly said, “I bet that they’re expecting us to attend already intoxicated.”

I hummed in agreement, “So, our first sponsor’s a drug enthusiast, huh?”

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

TBC

(A/N: I WAS SUPPOSED TO INCLUDE MEETING THE BOSS BUT ITS TOO LONG wowowow, these prompts are now integrated into my story, I swear I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this—but ANYWAYS. I’m kinda living for this unhinged oc of mine, and this duo?? I had so much fun writing about theit dynamic. However sad to say, this will be the last of them for now... as it goes, i must move on to other ignored ocs PEACEEE)

#alkinktober #inktober prompt #myoc #mywriting #cyberpunk oc #cyberpunk #cyberpunk fic #THIS WAS #SO MUCH FUN?? #I am also loving this duo

[wobbuffet-propaganda]

Steer clear of the pokeganda discord server.

Hi everyone! Former member and mod of the ‘ganda server, here. If you’re any form of marginalized identity, I would recommend you stay far away from it.

In this post I’m gonna be talking about my experiences with it. While I so fucking wish I had receipts to prove a lot of this, the server had an incredibly weird obsession with “avoiding drama” and if you ever got into any kind of disagreement with another member, you were pressured pretty quickly to delete all your messages on the matter so other people weren’t exposed to them. So I didn’t end up saving a lot, unfortunately. You’ll have to take my word for it, although I did get a few screencaps at the end as I realized how south things were going.

TL;DR: the mods of the pokeganda server are incredibly tyrannical, more or less play by their own rules, and are far more concerned with a “peace and love for all, even abusive people! we don’t want to be mean!” environment than one where the most vulnerable people actually feel protected.

So! I joined the pokeganda server through lea / leavanny-propaganda, and it was pretty standard as far as servers go. Open to all, shitposty and friendly, def my cuppa tea. 

Some time into this, i wanna say a few months (weeks? idk) I had a disagreement with another user (Nix of granbullyganda) they used some cissexist language and I asked them to not do that. They egged me on a little, I got a little mad, and after a few hours of them talking to me like a 4chan troll and thinly implying i sounded like a crazy SJW, mods intervened and they were banned for abusive language. Pretty much everyone in the server was on the same page at this point, and Lea elected to call for some more mods.

I applied, having modded like a million other pokemon servers, and got in. Sheep, the original owner of the server, turned tail and left quietly and none of us really noticed. Lea’s a minor and still in school, so naturally they needed some extra hands.

For the most part things just kinda carried on, modding didn’t entail much beyond asking people to format their intros correctly and cleaning up vulgar or offensive posts that slipped the minds of members posting. Until a week or so ago.

I can’t remember who, but a member of the chat posted a meme that referenced drug use, and Steph (absol-propaganda) said something like ‘don’t do drugs, love yourself instead.’ I, a recovered addict and absolute beacon of self-love, joked--‘Bold of you to assume I can’t do both.’

Steph then started going off on a much more serious tangent about how she lived with an abusive addict, talking about how much of a piece of shit the addict was, phrased in such a way that it was very very clear she was blaming this person’s abusive behaviour on the drugs. I was... shocked, honestly. I thought it was a joke at first. My initial response was kind of an incredulous “woah, okay, please don’t fucking say that!” it definitely could have been more polite, but I was. Kind of unable to get my bearings, I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me.

Eric of magikarp-propaganda then jumped in with a similar story to Steph’s of an abusive addict they knew. I tried to explain to them that this talk was making me uncomfortable. I also tried to keep a level head and explain to them that addiction was literally a disability, a disability that I had, and told them that what they were saying was like implying that I’m abusive because I’m autistic, or abusive because I suffer from chronic pain (two other disabilities I have, don’t worry!)

To her credit, Steph backed out but Eric kept on. I was getting visibly agitated and yeah, I lost my temper and got emotional and probably shouted some. I didn’t say anything abusive or terrible to Eric but I was just short of begging them to please stop saying what they were saying. Lea cut us off and I went back and (regrettably) deleted all my posts. 

Steph then left the server without a word. We had a brief DM session after that, where I gave her a piece of my mind for what she had said to me. Steph was one of the only people in the server who openly defended me, previously, and I was heartbroken that now she saw me as sub-human. In this interaction, she told me--an addict--bluntly, that despite what psychology, science, and common sense say, addiction is not a disability. She told an addict that people do drugs because they want to, and no genetic predisposition has any effect on this. Then she blocked me, as I was breaking down at the horrible shit she was saying.

I asked the other mods what was to be done about Eric. They said nothing to them, even though they had been horrible to me. Regardless of what you think of our disagreement, I kept asking them to stop saying something that was triggering me, and they refused. I slept on it.

I woke up the next day and nothing had changed. There was nothing in the admin chat about what consequences Eric’s actions would have. I asked if anything was going to be done. They kept asking me what I personally wanted done. I told them that I had no say in the matter, because I was literally the victim in the situation, and for me to decide what happened to my perpetrator would literally be an unethical use of mod power. They pushed back against me.

At some point, we reached a consensus that Eric was to be given a warning for their behaviour. None of the mods wanted to give this warning, almost all of them claimed they were “too nervous” about “being mean” and “constantly reminding people of the rules. I tried to bring up the point that this was... LITERALLY our job as mods. This was literally why we existed.

Rather than any of us giving Eric the warning, one of the mods who IS FRIENDS WITH STEPH, A PERSON WHO IS AN ENEMY OF THE VICTIM IN THIS SITUATION, literally HAD STEPH MESSAGE ERIC THE WARNING. You heard that right: A mod, who’s job is to MOD, asked someone who is no longer in the server to mod for them. This was when I started feeling like I was literally going crazy. I pointed out how unethical this was, how sketchy this was, how uncool this was. I was more or less immediately villainized. The mod in question then started acting like a child who’d been caught red-handed and tried to guilt trip me. I’m paraphrasing, but they said something like ‘Fine, maybe I’ll just LEAVE. I’ve been wanting to, anyways!’

Because I called out a super fucking sketchy thing they did. There were NO rules at this point. No one in this chat could be bothered to tell anyone that something was not okay. This was the last thing I sent before my termination. No one in the mod chat responded to it.

Maybe it’s the autism, but I don’t see anything wrong with what I’ve said here. What the mods were doing in this server, if I may use an analogy, reminded me of in politics when someone will say they “can be friends with anyone regardless of beliefs.” On it’s surface, it sounds sweet--peace and love for all, right? But if you actually think about it, nothing about it is good. It leaves the vulnerable vulnerable and the bullies bullies. It means you stand for nothing. It’s equality but not equity. 

Another member of this server literally implied I was born an abuser because of something I cannot help, and I did what you are supposed to do--I asked the mods for help, I asked the mods what was being done about it. I received nothing.

This was their response to my above message. To literally take my privileges away because I questioned their authority. I did not use my mod power to abuse anyone, control anyone, harm anyone, anything like that. Even when I could’ve taken the wheel and just banned Eric for acting shitty to me, I acted not as a mod but as a normal user in the server with no more power than anyone else. And they literally took my influence away because I dared to question them.

“you took the situation too far”-- I did not. I got emotional because my trauma was literally public forum, quickly realized it was unproductive, deleted my posts so they would not reach any more eyes, and asked the mods for help.

“harassing us for not doing anything”--I did not. You can see my messages above. I asked for clarification on what they meant by this. They refused to tell me. If it was just that I sent a lot of messages, I don’t really know what to say to that. I ramble and overexplain and ask a lot of questions when I’m scared and confused. I’m fuckin’ autistic.

“harrassing messages I sent Steph”--Steph sent me harassing messages, and apparently either cherrypicked them in such a way that it made me look like the inciter or doctored them. I asked them to show me these messages. They did not.

“inappropriate post you made on your blog”--I did not make an inappropriate post. On my personal blog, a blog not at all affiliated with my work as a ganda blog, a blog that very few people from this side of tumblr follow, a blog that at one point was INCREDIBLY active in the addiction community, i made this post.

It is not inappropriate. It is a post about an unsafe person that I made so other addicts who might be emotionally compromised/triggered in the way I was can preemptively block them/avoid interacting with them. I said nothing about the situation on this blog, not wanting to incite any drama but wanting to keep my friends safe.

None of this breakdown I am describing was public. It was all behind closed doors and I literally did everything in my power, short of being a fucking dictator myself, to get the mods to lift a single finger about it. They couldn’t. They couldn’t even give an abusive person in their server a warning. They had to get someone else to do it.

I asked them why they were doing this. They refused to clarify. They just kept saying “it’s for the best.” They made a private chat to decide this behind my back. I was given no say in my own case. I was given no voice to defend myself. I questioned their authority and they took my voice.

The ‘answers’ were not answers and the chat was short lived. Here’s what I got.

This was a little under an hour ago. They have not replied, and I doubt they plan to.

Right before this, I went to the server to say goodbye to all the friends I’d made there. I didn’t make a big deal, just said I was heartbroken and needed to step away. Invited them to join me on my own pokemon servers, of which I have plenty.

The mods removed me before any of my friends could say goodbye. I was not allowed to even keep in touch with any of them. I did not see a single goodbye before I was banned.

So yeah. This is apparently what happens if you speak out against anyone in this server, no matter how politely, professionally, and calmly you do it. They will not only take your voice but they will erase you entirely and cut you off from the community. I am literally just a marginalized person who asked the mods for help in dealing with some oppressive language and a person who wouldn’t let it go, and I got my privileges revoked and about a hundred of my friends stolen from my hands.

I applied to be a mod in this server because when Nix started attacking me, I realized that a community had been fostered where they felt it was acceptable to do that. I wanted to change that. I have a loving heart and a firm hand and I wanted to use both to help settle disagreements and let the most vulnerable know they had someone in their corner. It seems, however, that was a futile effort. Historically people see me as an angry bitch because I speak my mind and when I see someone I say something. But you can’t have one angry bitch in power, because when she’s the victim, she stops being an angry bitch and starts being a crazy bitch in all her hysterics. There weren’t any other bitches on the mod team, and you know what they say about representing yourself in court.

You may draw your own conclusions from this. Do not harass any of the people mentioned in this post, do not send them asks or any violent rhetoric. In my heart I do not want to hurt anyone, and that is why I am making this post. If someone had told me this was the community I was getting myself into, I would have never joined and got attached. I want to spare people from what I went through. 

I am also not looking to discourse. My mind is made up on the way I was treated, and more importantly, the way I saw others treated in my time as a mod. I do not intend to change my mind. I intend to protect.

In my heart, I am a pacifist, and I will not pick a fight with anyone who does not deserve it.

Mirror Coat. 

#pokeganda

[queenlifesupport]

Wanna Do This Thing? (Ben!Rog x Y/N)

This was requested by @rogerbuttersmyeggroll (also fantastic fucking name), I would put what they requested but it would kind of give away what happens.

WORD COUNT : 2,039

Holy shit, I fucking loved writing this. SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS, I BARELY EDITED IT :’) MAKE SURE TO LIKE AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE CONTENT! 

Warnings : A lil angst, language of course, the tiniest lil sexual phrase, and verbally fighting

I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was sure hoping the outcome was negative, Roger and I couldn't afford this right now. Especially with him going back to tour in 6 months, then returning after another 5 months, he wouldn't be here for the start of the aftermath. I couldn't help but pace rapidly in the small bathroom, I knew I'd eventually have to look at the small test indicator, but I first had to talk myself into even picking up the plastic stick. I stopped dead in my tracks after attempting to push myself to look at it, I tapped my chin with two fingers while my other hand rested on my hip.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking stupid." I murmured to myself before grabbing the test and finally looking at the result no matter what my head told me. My eyes widened, right in my hands read a positive pregnancy test. This was not the plan, our plan was once we got married and he retires from the music career, thats when we'd have our first kid. Not now when we're still young and he's in the middle of his career. I'm still looking for a job, for gods sake. It was now hitting me that I'd have to tell Roger, how the hell was I supposed to tell him? I have absolutely no idea how he'd react, we've definitely talked about having kids, but like I said we never talked about having one this early. His feelings could be so mixed about this, what if he leaves me after I tell him? Maybe I should take a few more? That one could've easily been wrong, not all of these can be 100% accurate, lets just try again.

I somehow managed to take a few more tests, now reciting back to pacing while all of them sat scattered on the bathroom counter, it was an absolute nervous mess in here. After a few long and dreaded minutes passed, I built up more courage to check all 4 of them. Each one read positive, just like the first one. "Fuck." Was all I could mutter to myself. I still held onto one test while using the back of my hand to rest it against my hot fleshed forehead, then bringing it down to gaze at the test one last time. I slid open the bottom drawer that held all of my travel bags, finding the smallest one to hide the original test in, I didn't want to just throw them all away, this was a big deal for both Roger and I. Placing the rest of them in empty tampon wrappings, I knew Roger wouldn't be looking through the garbage, but just in case, I threw a few tissues in there too in attempt to cover the packages. I looked in the mirror, taking a deep breath trying my best to calm myself down before exiting the bathroom. I unlocked the door slowly, then opened the door with all my might to be quiet, which turned out successful to my surprise, now only paying attention to the floor as I tiptoed my way to the bedroom. Entering the sunlit expanse, I mutedly shut the door behind me yet again accomplishing silence, I turned around in mid tiptoe before I realized Roger was awake and watching me while comfortably on his side, using his hand to prop his head off the bed. I tried to cover my hard swallow as his eyes burned through mine.

"Where'd you go, love?" His eyebrows were furrowed, patting the empty spot next to his shirtless figure. I normally walked over to the side of the soft mattress, laying down in the spot next to him and feeling his familiar warmth. Without him in bed, it was always cold, no matter how many blankets I used. I feared I'd never get that feeling again once he found out. Suddenly blanketed panic came upon me, how was I supposed to support myself and a child without a job? I'd have to pay rent, baby essentials, house appliances and food. Roger was the one that allowed the two of us to live comfortably. I brushed off the thought, trying to put up the facade for him.

"Just the bathroom." I smiled at him while running my hand through his soft blonde hair, even after sleeping, it wasn't tangled. He grabbed my hand with his free one, giving it a small kiss then rubbing my knuckles softly. His arm that held his head moved to under my neck, allowing me to cuddle up closer to his vessel as his other arm snaked around my waist. I felt the soft touch of his lips to my forehead before whispering a sleepy I love you. I wanted it to last forever.

I had forgotten our plans tonight, Brian and John were supposed to come for dinner while Freddie was off to god knows where, I attempted to invite him but he sadly declined. I was okay with just the two of them joining us, I just wish it could've been the whole crew. All day the whole pregnancy thing has been on my mind, I couldn't stop thinking about it but I wasn't ready to tell Rog, I just wanted things to be good for a little longer. Especially knowing that this whole thing could backfire on me. I offered to cook tonight so I didn't have to do much interaction, due to the boys having a drink in the living room while I worked away in the kitchen. This also gave me an opportunity to have some alone time so I can fully think things through.

"Rog, Bri, Deaky! Dinners ready!" I yelled as I removed my oven mitts and started dishing up food for the boys.

"Smells wonderful, darling." I heard Rogers sweet voice in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He left a kiss on my upper cheekbone, instantly feeling a blush appearing on both cheeks. I took a seat with the rest of the boys as we all dug in, I heard hums from the 3 of them, showing me I did good.

Around 9 pm, both Brian and John left after sharing hugs and thank you's for the dinner which made me feel good. I enjoyed having everyone over at our house, it made me strangely feel like a real couple.

"I have an idea." Roger said before biting his lip and taking both of my hands in his. "Go wait patiently on the bed for daddy, I have to pee real quick." He said winking at me before jogging off to the hallway.

"Way to ruin the mood with your bladder!" I yelled with a smile. I appreciated how good my life was, and I hoped with all my heart that it would stay this way, or even get better. I walked to the bedroom, taking off my sweater and neatly folding it on the desk chair. As I went to take my bra off, Roger came stomping in holding a blue object in his hand. Fuck, it was the pregnancy test.

"I had to find out you were pregnant by the shitty garbage can falling over when I accidentally kicked it. When the fuck were you going to tell me?" He yelled from about 7 feet away, his voice slightly cracking at the end. That's what happened when he was about to cry, I just knew it.

'"Roger don't you dare yell at me." I said as calmly as I could, shutting my eyes harshly for a good 3 seconds. This was not how I wanted him to find out.

"Are you serious, Y/N? How long did you know? You're seriously going to get pregnant, 6 months before my tour, 6 months?!" He took a few steps closer.

"You're going to blame me for being pregnant? You're the stupid ass, you don't know how to fucking use a condom correctly, and it's clear because of the fucking two lines." I took a step closer too, now it was my turn to raise my voice and reach his.

"You should be on the pill, Y/N!" He took another step, now we barely had any room between us.

"You are the stupidest and rudest guy I've ever fucking met, Roger Taylor. Were you even paying attention at my doctors visit or when I complained multiple time about the pill giving me horrible headaches? Why should I have to deal with constant migraines so you can enjoy humming in me like a 'big boy'." We were practically spitting in each others faces. "Go fuck off and sleep on the couch tonight." I didn't yell this time, but the look on my face showed my emotion. He scoffed then walked to the bed to reach for a throw blanket. "No, go out there and freeze." I said storming over to him and snatching the blanket from his hand. All he did was look at me with a disgusted expression, then finally left, slamming the bedroom door behind him. I dropped down onto the edge of the cushion, throwing the blanket onto the bed before resting my face in my hands while my elbows dug into my knees. Suddenly the small house was vibrating at each loud thump coming from Rogers music room, I knew he was banging on the drums to let out anger plus attempting to piss me off even more, he had the knowledge that past 8 pm he wasn't supposed to play them, that was our rule. I decided I'd just try to sleep off the anger, but it would be hard to fall asleep with the consistent banging.

I woke up groggily to the smell of breakfast being made, Roger always made breakfast throughout Saturday-Monday, I had a feeling he made it just for himself this morning. I rolled over with my back facing the door until I heard a light knock on the door. I looked over my shoulder only to see Roger enter with a tray.

"I made you something." He said with a hint of a sad emotion visible. I sat up in the cold bed, watching him as he carefully walked over to the bed, setting down the tray of breakfast with a small vase of my favorite flowers then sitting on the floor, chest level with the frame. "I'm really sorry Y/N." He said after a few moments of silence.

"I'm sorry too Rog, I really should've told you." I whispered, looking down at my hands.

"Its scary knowing you're pregnant, but the more I think about it, the better it seems." He paused. "I have no doubt that I'm spending the rest of my life with you. Having a kid with you sounds like a dream, and yes, maybe a dream we planned later down the line, but this is whats happening now. Theres no such thing as 'right moments', it's always a right moment if you take it that way. I took it as a bad moment and bad timing last night, but I had time to think and fully process what this meant for us." He seemed like he was getting emotional so I leaned over to place a soft kiss upon his lips.

"I think we can make this work, our little Miss Rogerina." I giggled.

"Yeah - definitely not. If we have a girl, we will be naming her anything but that. Plus, of course were having a little baby boy." He winked at me.

"How about we discuss these things later? I just need some food right now, and some cuddles from my beautiful boyfriend."

"You mean Fiancé?" He asked with a smirk.

"What do you mean?" I questioned. He reached to his back pocket, removing a black velvet box and setting it down on the bed, then placing his chin on the mattress, observing me as I gasped. "No you didn't." I said in disbelief. He shrugged with a sly grin on his face. I bit my lip as I took the box and opened it to reveal a silver band with a single diamond on it. It was so simple, yet beyond gorgeous.

"What do you say, you wanna do this thing?" He asked while eying the ring I held.

"Fuck yes." I managed to get out.

{TAG LIST / @michael-langdonahs }

MASTERLINK

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger x reader #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x reader #queen imagines #queen band #queen fandom #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine

[fuckyeahimbrown]

Dying Inside (The war of grief)

by  Deborah Schurman-Kauflin Ph.D.

I am sorry you have found your way to this article because more than likely, you are reading it because you are suffering. In an instant, your life changed forever. You heard the news that no one ever wants to hear, words so horrible that you can’t even process them. Maybe your child was killed. Perhaps your loved one was diagnosed with a terminal disease, or it could have been you who got the bad news of illness. Your heart may have been broken when the love of your life betrayed you. And let’s not forget the silent grief of a child who has been abused and withers inside. There are many horrors in this world, and you may be one of the wounded warriors who limp through life after your life was destroyed.

I have worked with families of murder victims and police for many years. I also spend time advocating for those who have incurable, painful illnesses. In all my years, I have seen so much suffering and witnessed the secret tears of those who life has left behind. This article is for those of you who know the pains of great misery and the reality of how the world treats you when you are down.

Anyone who has been through a real trauma knows how it impacts your life. Devastation surrounds you, and at the time you need help most, many times, you don’t get it. In fact for a large group, help never comes.

Instead of softened empathy, you’ll hear all kinds of platitudes of how life’s sucker punch will make you stronger. Others will say it is part of some big mysterious universal plan that you are not allowed to know about, and that you simply must accept it (get over it). Then some will say the trauma was a good thing to bring about change in your life. For those of you out there that have heard these words, you know exactly how it made you feel. This notion that having your heart ripped out can make you stronger is nonsense. Destruction weakens you. It is the nature of the beast. Pain and suffering do not fortify you. They act like an anchor dragging you further and further into a dark pit. At best, some days all you can do is survive.

The raw nature of true trauma goes much deeper than societies will allow. What I mean by that is those suffering indeed suffer alone. In our world, people are not interested in hearing about the horror stories of others’ lives unless the stories are packaged into neat one hour television shows. To say that modern society is shallow is terrible understatement. People have become quite psychopathic in their lack of empathy.

Truth is very ugly. Anyone who has lived through or is living through hell knows what a horrific event can do to you. It ruins who you once were, and you know you will never be the same again. When your life has suffered a fatal blow, there is no coming back from that. You can’t be who you used to be. That simply is not possible, and for people who surround you, such a notion is unacceptable. People want you to be the sister, the wife, the brother, the husband or whoever they once knew. But how can you be who you were before that horrible event? After and during trauma, you are damaged. You change inside which is difficult for others. This can result in abandonment by people you thought were your friends. So many times, a husband will leave a sick wife or vice versa. ‘Friends’ slowly migrate away. Thus the hurt individual gets a double whammy.

There are many theories about grief, and people are not shy about telling you how they think you should be coping. However, there is no guide book for how you must respond to tragedy. Having worked with parents of murdered children and advocating for those suffering from incurable illnesses, I have seen what the war of grief does to human beings. They become battered as if combat veterans. They take one ‘punch’ right after another while doing their best to stay standing in a world that just doesn’t care about them. People will say that they care, but when you look at their behavior, it tells a much different story.

Sufferers are told hope is frail but difficult to destroy. They are lectured about how they must ‘get over’ the tragedy because it weighs them down. This advice is particularly cruel to those who lost a loved one or those enduring a horrible illness. There is no getting over having your life shattered into little pieces. Reality doesn’t work that way. Sure it reads well in books and sounds good in classes, but real life is very different from the world of ideas. If you have endured such things, you won’t get over it. You can integrate it into who you are, but you won’t forget.

Society in general has become quite indifferent to suffering of others. We have been so desensitized by the world’s traumas that our fellow man has become an object to be ignored. Anyone who has had the misfortune of being diagnosed with a bad illness knows how the medical system treats those who are suffering. Beyond the misdiagnoses and incorrect labels, patients suffer almost every indignity. When doctors cannot figure out what ailment patients have, patients automatically get labeled as head cases. Imagine what that does to someone suffering from a painful incurable disease that has been undiagnosed. Or take the example of the mother whose daughter had been murdered and her case botched by officers who were overly anxious to go off the clock. As she cried for justice she was told that this is the way things are, and she needed to pick up a hobby to distract her. One therapist told her to pick up a musical instrument, and she could strum her pain away!

So many parents of murdered children or those who are sick have had ‘friends’ slowly slide away as if no one will notice their absence. The fact is such people don’t want to see what could happen to them. The suffering is an ugly reminder to everyone what can happen in life, and for the shallow, walking away is easy. Then they don’t have to see the ugliness and can walk through life with their blinders on. And it isn’t just friends who jump off the sinking ship. Family members scatter as well. These fair weather relatives slink away when the going gets tough, but should there be any improvement, they come trotting back as if nothing ever happened. Yet the person who was going through the trauma knows exactly what transpired and what their fickle friends and family really are. There is no forgetting that.

Life destroying trauma is not something that the sufferer can get over. It bores into their souls and creates a new worldview where people become the enemy because frankly, they are. Few truly understand them which leads to isolation and an increasing inability to relate. If people are kicked when they are down, the injury sticks.

I know this sounds so ominous. Real life is messy and complicated and many times cruel. How many times have you gone through something so unbelievably horrifying that you can’t understand how it could have happened? You become lost in grief, almost as if in a parallel universe where everything seems backwards. Nothing is right, and without fail, when you are at your lowest point, bad things keep happening.

However, you are not alone.

There are others like you out there. There are walking wounded all around you who have learned to keep silent about their suffering. The pain you feel can be lessened. I’m going to be honest with you and say that your pain will never fully go away. Your loss will always be there, but this doesn’t mean that you cannot have a life after a trauma. It won’t be the life you planned, and I know how painful that can be. Just getting out of bed can be the best you can do in a day. If you think that is not big deal, then look at it another way. If you got out of bed, consider a victory. You did something, and that can be a first step. However, it will not be easy to find a new way of living. There are many obstacles in your way. Yet just trying can help build your self esteem.

I met a woman who was the victim of two attempted sexual homicides. Yes, you read that correctly. She was the victim twice in her life. The first time she was in her late teens, an attacker broke into her home. He raped and beat her, leaving her for dead. She was crippled physically and emotionally from the attack. Almost twenty years later, she was attacked again. Raped and strangled and left for dead, she somehow managed to survive. She does volunteer work for victims when she can and has managed to find some happiness in her life by helping others. However, she was very clear to me that the pain of the attacks is with her every day. It is not something she forgets, and she is very angry with her family and the mental health profession.

Her family left her one by one as time went on. They uttered such phrases as ‘you are too bitter for me’ or ‘you need to move on’ when she was suffering from the long term physical effects from the attempted murders. Professionals were no better. Doctors told her she shouldn’t still be having such horrible headaches years later and that she should just get used to the pain that went along with her traumatic brain injury. They told her not even to ask for any pain medication because they weren’t going to give it to her. She went to a balance disorder specialist who was rated as being compassionate. He gave her one heart medication for her dizziness which didn’t work. When she went back, the doctor said he didn’t want to try anything else, and she should just learn to live with her condition. Doctors failed her and treated her like dirt.

Counselor after counselor dropped her when she wasn’t progressing the way they wanted. She didn’t fit neatly into a box, so they didn’t know what to do with her. The first therapist wanted her to take a nerf bat and hit the wall when she got angry. When this didn’t help her, the therapist suggested blowing bubbles to reconnect with her childhood. Needless to say, this didn’t do the trick. So off she went to counselor number two. Number two wanted the victim to explore how she played a part in causing the attacks. What did she do in her life that drew these killers to her? When she reacted badly to this, the therapist dismissed her saying that she couldn’t heal until she owned up to her role in the attacks!

Number three simply refused to take her on as a client because she was seen a trouble maker who had already been to two professionals. Number four wanted her to journal her feelings. She said that just upset her more, and the psychiatrist gave her heavy doses of antidepressants. This improved her mood slightly but did nothing to help her work through her grief. When that doctor had nothing more to offer, the victim kept moving to find someone to help. It took seven professionals before she found one who was sympathetic, didn’t suggest that she was at fault, and took the time to simply listen. The victim said the best thing anyone did for her was to listen. The bad advice just made her angry and did nothing to heal her.

What those who are on the outside looking in don’t understand is that trauma becomes a part of who you are and colors how you view life. There is no magic pill to make it go away. There is no one with an enchanted wand to set this right. It is on the shoulders of those suffering to make a decision to live. I know how this sounds, but it is true. You must decide that you want a life. It won’t be the life you imagined, but you can find something better than the misery you live in. Those who have been through a deep trauma understand that the happiness will always be tempered by a hint of sadness. Yet there can be something better for you. When you are in the depths of despair, it seems impossible. But if you try to find something that gives you joy, you can find yourself actually laughing and smiling. I know your heart has been battered, and you will always be guarded. This is part of who you are now.

I can’t say what will do the trick for you. Only you can find what can make you happy. All I know is that the best thing you can do is try to find something that you love to do. Try to find someone who is sympathetic who can help point out resources which can be more tailored to you. Someone who is suffering from your illness or someone who has lost a loved one may know a good therapist or group that can help you. Just the thought of reaching out can be traumatizing, yet taking control of your life by stepping out can be helpful.

Don’t give up. You can find your spirit again. Keep looking for something you can love. Only you can do that, and the good news is that you don’t need someone else to take that first step. You have the power to do that. Give yourself the gift of easing your pain by doing something just for you. And keep trying. Reward yourself for taking the baby steps because you deserve every reward.

#depression #social anxiety #grief #hopelessness #empty #sorrow #mental illness #loneliness #mental health #help #lost #dying inside

[watchandtalk]

Blade Runner (1982)

It's been a while since I've updated this blog! In celebration of the release of Blade Runner 2049, I'm going to provide my own (very) personal review of the original Blade Runner (1982) film:

It sucked, and I hate it!＊

＊This is obviously my personal opinion, and I am not hailing it as an objective truth. I also need to point out that I am heavily biased toward the book (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick). I am also completely aware that the film is a loose adaptation of the book, but I will address this further on.

I very rarely ‘hate’ films – it is an intense word, after all. After years of being force-fed overanalyses in high school, however, I feel that the film warrants this. The thing is that in high school, English teachers will tell you that it’s ‘okay to have your own opinion of the film!’ before going on to inspect every little detail that points toward it being a literary masterpiece. Then they go on to say that your opinion must be founded – without offering any advice for analysing it from a negative perspective. Here I am to say that it is indeed entirely possible to both effectively analyse the techniques used as well as show that a film (in this case, Blade Runner) is completely and utterly terrible!

I summed it up quite nicely after very recently (within the past hour) watching Blade Runner with my family in the hopes of inspiring hype for the sequel: Blade Runner is a good film, but a terrible story.

The film:

Good symbolism – the use of animal associations for the Replicants in order to accentuate their inhumanness; the unicorn, as well as the origami; color; motifs associated with implanted memories (phrases, sounds of children’s laughter); fire (a la Prometheus);

The noir feeling – I personally am not a fan of the genre, but the pacing, soundtrack, general atmosphere of the film and the theatricality of the interactions, so to speak, represent the genre well;

You know the rest – intertextual references (Paradise Lost, if I’m recalling correctly; the parable of the prodigal son); world building referencing the context of the film, that being increasing globalisation and the mixing of cultures; Tyrell being short-sighted despite his ‘visionary’ status and the shortness of the Replicant lifespan... I could go on, but that would involve searching for my high school English notebook, which I’m fairly certain I threw away as soon as I was done with it. You’ve heard it all before.

The story:

Bad – thanks for highlighting their inhumanity when the point was that they’re pretty much humans anyway; all it took for Deckard to wonder if killing Replicants was a good idea was a totally unnecessary romantic subplot; I know the ending with Batty was supposed to be symbolic or whatever, but narratively speaking, it makes very little sense that after all he did, he would choose to save Deckard;

The noir feeling – you may have noticed this was in the film section. I personally hated what the pacing did to the film and how it changed the focus;

It’s flimsy, it holds no water, it’s bad.

Again, I need to stress that this is my own opinion, and I am very specifically comparing the film to the book despite the fact that the film is only very loosely based on the book. I do find it significant to address adaptations in general, however, and the consequences of one ‘badly done’.

Loose adaptations, loose narratives

For this segment, I’m going to make reference to the film Edge of Tomorrow (2014). The source material of that film is less well-known (in the West, at least) than that of Blade Runner (being adapted from All You Need is Kill, by Sakurazaka Hiroshi), but nonetheless, there are very significant parallels to be made that can be attributed to the common factor of their being ‘loose adaptations’.

Here’s the thing: I’m not at all saying that adaptations must be 100% accurate or not be made at all. Especially when the source material is cross-cultural, one can’t expect values to translate directly, or indeed the original context of the source material may be vastly different from the adaptation temporally speaking. The message may not even be the same, perhaps being intentionally subverted in order to make a point.

What I’m saying is this:

When one co-opts the narrative of a piece of media, there is a certain point at which one has to be very careful when changing around significant plot points and events.

There is an internal logic that runs within a narrative. Changing an event disrupts that logic. In order to make the event fit, the narrative will have to be moved around, the backstory rearranged, certain elements introduced or removed. If you go around changing things willy-nilly without a care for what it does to the consistency of the story, you end up with: one (1) horrible, no good story.

At this point, I would present a good adaptation for the sake of comparison. Unfortunately, many of the ones I can think of that are good (Fight Club, perhaps arguably; The Silence of the Lambs; The Shining) are ones where I’ve only seen the films for, so on the point of them being adaptations, I am not well informed.

So again, I ask you to think of really bad adaptations. I think we can all agree on the Hollywood renditions of Dragonball, The Last Airbender and Death Note being absolutely horrendous adaptations. We can’t change around ideas without considering the effects or how the narrative must be changed to accommodate this, but thinking about all these other horrid adaptations also suggests that there is something essential to the source material that one cannot abandon. In Dragonball, this may be Goku’s unique personality, or the fact that he’s Japanese. In Death Note, this may be the fact that Light was meant to be a perfect student who was too smart and developed a god-complex. There are things that make the characters who they are and there are things that a story is about, and ultimately tampering with them is something that backfires more often than not.

Let’s go back to Edge of Tomorrow and Blade Runner.

I didn’t like Edge of Tomorrow. Even before reading the source material, I did not like it. There’s first the fact that the consistency is dubious regarding the whole omega/alpha thing; what’s up with him going back in time and the omega suddenly blowing up? The film also introduces a lot of values that weren’t present in the book. This is understandable, seeing as the source material is Japanese and this is a Hollywood adaptation, but that does not mean it was done well; there’s a big emphasis on teamwork and team sacrifice (where in the book, there are two significant characters pretty much), and there’s this weird theme of Cage (white-washing aside for now) going through the loops and slowly becoming this brooding sacrificial hero figure that ultimately becomes better than Rita, who a) had already gone through this before, and b) is a more accomplished fighter than Cage at any given point. This is pretty sexist, as despite her seniority in pretty much every aspect, Rita quickly becomes the film’s damsel in distress, but what makes it the most disappointing is how it compares to the book:

Rita, front cover to back cover, retains her seniority over Keiji at all times. On one hand, this may be because of Japan’s larger focus on social hierarchy and community; this still leaves a bitter taste in one’s mouth when the West is supposedly becoming more ‘progressive’ and leaving the damsel stereotype behind. It also transforms the story; in the very end, Rita is the one who figures out what is going on, and it’s through her actions and decisions that the loops finally end. In fact, she dies only because she decided she was going to die – “I finally understood. When I met Rita yesterday, she had decided that she was going to die.” (p.187) Yes, Keiji becomes a hero and is acknowledged as such, but up until the very end, he recognises Rita as her own person, someone he could never replace and perhaps could never amount to. “Red was your color, yours and yours alone. It should rest with you. I will paint my Jacket sky blue, the color you told me you loved when we first met.” (p. 196) All that emotion, that weight? Gone.

The change of her role also creates an awkwardness in the alien hierarchy system. Originally, the Mimics had a server which triggered loops through the antennae, and Rita had been an antenna. The solution is thus pretty simple in the novel. This changes with the introduction of the alpha/omega system, and the transfer of the target from the ‘alpha’ to the ‘omega’, creating that strange maybe-contradictory ending.

But I digress.

The point of that tangent was that while one can understand that yes, of course things are allowed to change, but that doesn’t mean that it makes the narrative better or more cohesive. Betraying the point of the original material is one thing, but doing it badly is something else entirely.

To very briefly sum up the main themes of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?:

ableism, classism, the importance of status in society and how this ties in with the dystopian setting – see Isidore and his being a ‘chickenhead’; how this and classism separates those staying on a war-trodden earth and those who escape off-world; how they separate humans and ‘non-humans’; artificial animals and real animals serving as a status symbol;

emotions, intelligence, and how they make up the human identity – there’s the idea of the androids feeling emotions, which is portrayed in a much more nuanced fashion in the books, as well as the parallel with the Penfield mood organs; the explicit fact that humans and androids have varying levels of both intelligence and emotional capacity, further suggesting the lack of true difference between Replicant and human;

the concept of a machine being either a hazard or a benefit – though Deckard mentions this in the film, it hardly makes the same impact as meeting Luba, who for all intents and purposes enriched musical culture and did not pose a hazard; there’s also the idea of humans having the ability to be just as deplorable as androids supposedly are, as in Resch;

Mercerism – this one is understandably not incorporated in the film (seeing as this is a film, and not a two- or three-part series), but it does add an interesting dimension vis a vis the concept of artificiality and technology as a means of shared consciousness, as well as the willingness of humans to believe in something that is irrevocably proven false.

What it boils down to, essentially, is ‘what makes a human human, good or bad’, as well as the implications on society as being a community of humans. Typical sci-fi philosophical fare, but it very much leaves you thinking that the answer is, ‘well, humans are pretty terrible but also incredibly variable and really is there any difference between humans and androids? No, I guess’.

The first thing that should pop out is that there is a clear mismatch between central themes in the two media. You can argue that the vague idea is the same, but how they go about it is extremely different. Perhaps to an extent this is a given, as there’s only so much philosophising that a film can allow without stretching into the two hours and above section, but the film undeniably displays it in  a much more shallow way. Batty’s dramatics are just that: dramatics, theatrics, all for show. Maybe not strictly accurate, but another word that comes to mind is pretentious. Again, it’s for the cinematics, perhaps part of the genre, but personally I find it difficult to engage with something that is clearly a caricature. Perhaps this is the point, but certainly this was never the point that the novel had meant to make.

What the film tells you about the androids is ultimately very different as well. As mentioned beforehand, all the Replicants have an associated animal – Pris with a raccoon, Batty with a wolf, and so on – which further heightens their inhumanity. What strikes me is that in the novels, there’s no such clear distinction between human and inhuman – the androids are not made into animals and neither are the humans. However, what does happen in the novels is that traits that are considered human or inhuman are shown to be prevalent in both androids and humans. Androids have lower emotional capacity and cannot pass the Voight-Kampff test – but then again, there are many humans that can’t, either, for a lot of different reasons. Androids are portrayed as ruthless, violent, cold-hearted – but then again, there are humans that are, as well. So what makes humans so different? Well, they can think for themselves and have their own ambitions – but so do the androids. But the one thing they can’t fake is emotions, right? Well...

What may differentiate the film and the novel in their portrayals of humanity and inhumanity is their ascription of good and bad to them, respectively. The humans in Blade Runner are assumed to be good because of their humanity – conversely, the androids are assumed to be bad, because of their inhumanity. There are many themes running through the novel, but this black-and-white morality is not one of them.

If we take away this assumed good-or-bad dichotomy, we find that Blade Runner is ultimately a shallow film with no backstory or deeper meaning. Why did the Replicants flee? How did they know each other? With no reason for this, the film is forced to come up with an additional plot point: the four year lifespan. The focus stops being ‘what is human’ and starts becoming a tale about playing god.

The film manages to not only simplify any sort of complexity in the absolute worst way possible, but it also manages to go against the central themes holding the novel together.

And you know what? Blade Runner isn’t unique for this. Plenty of blockbuster films are guilty of the shallowest, most predictable and bland storylines imaginable. But what really takes the cake is this:

The Final Nail in the Coffin

Despite Blade Runner being despairingly simple objectively, despite it being straightforward and not requiring any real critical thinking or philosophising, despite it being an alright film at best and an insomnia-killer at worst, despite all of this, they made us study it for HSC English, and they had the audacity to make it sound deep and complex and made us analyse it as deeply as one would the mysteries of the universe.

I never want to hear about how the fires are reminiscent of Prometheus bringing fire to humanity or how the sight of the sun is reminiscent of Egyptian Pharaohs and a symbol of power or about the intertextual value of Batty’s pretentious spiels ever again. It took me watching the film again, years later, to realise that I absolutely abhor the film, and would do well never to watch it again.

Phew.

Again, as a film? Technical beauty. Easy to pick out techniques and stylistic decisions – probably why it was chosen as a focus in the first place. But hey – so is Gattaca, and that’s actually a good film.

#blade runner #do androids dream of electric sheep

[operation-earthanoids]

They Don’t Come In Twos

So I said I’d write a story starring a nonbinary human and their shapeshifting alien friend, and not only have I done so, but I’ve also planned a whole series based around them and their crewmates! This series will start off focusing on some nb struggles (All heavily based on things I’ve experienced, by the way!) but will later expand into different “Space Australia” plots, and I might even write some side-stories based on suggestions from you guys! 

Anyways, without further ado, here’s the first chapter of They Don’t Come In Twos.

Frys thought that ae were pretty good at understanding human culture. Ae had taken a couple of courses a while back on human behaviour, and besides that, aer ship always had at least one human on it - the second-in-command was human after all - so ae’d been around humans for a good ten cycles. Ae also knew that ae were more knowledgeable about humans than any of aer colleagues back at the Center. Though ae were the first to admit that ae wasn’t the best at human ‘stuff’, and often, ae’d find aerself completely at a loss as to the reasons behind something a human did.

The reason as to why their friend Benny was lying face down on their bed and making a soft noise of discomfort was one such thing.

“Benny?” Ae stood tentatively at the doorway, aer tail curled around aer legs to try and let the human know ae wasn’t trying to interrupt whatever it was they were doing (Not that Benny could see that, with their head firmly shoved into their pillow). Ae wasn’t close enough with Benny to just walk in, they’d only met a few weeks ago, and even though they’d really “hit it off”, as humans said, Frys didn’t feel comfortable entering Benny’s room without their permission. “Are you feeling alright?”

Benny made a noncommittal sound, as they often did when they weren’t feeling well, or were tired. It seemed, in Frys’ opinion, to be a confirmation that something was wrong.

“Do you want me to contact the medbay?” Benny shook their head, and turned their head to the side slightly.

“I’m not sick, Frys, there’s nothing the medbay can do right now.” Right now? Perhaps this was one of those ongoing illnesses humans had that would require more intensive care that Frys had read about a little while ago? No, they said they weren’t sick… Perhaps they were lying?

“You are acting the way you do when you feel sick, though. Tell me the truth, what is wrong?”

“Nothing!” Benny’s voice was louder now, and Frys thought ae may have done the wrong thing. “Listen, Frys, it’s just… It’s hard to explain.” “Then tell me, and I will do my best to understand.”

“Alright.” Benny sat up, coughing slightly as they did so, which Frys noted - more evidence that their friend might be ill. “You better come over here then, this might take a while.”

The seat next to Benny’s bed was not made for a Vlaenue, but the pair of stools sitting next to the cupboard were a close enough fit. Folding aer front legs carefully, Frys waited for Benny to start talking, watching them closely as ae waited, looking for any other signs aer friend might be unwell. Ae didn’t look them in the eye, of course, as ae knew it made Benny very uncomfortable, and aer friend was uncomfortable enough already.

After a long pause, Benny let out a long hiss of breath. “So uh… have you ever heard the term ‘dysphoria’?”

“No, unfortunately. It seems somewhat familiar to me, though, I may have seen it in passing.”

“Ah. Right. Um. Well, you’ve been doing a lot of human research, yeah? You probably saw it once or twice in human culture or something?”

“Most likely, perhaps if you give me a brief definition of the meaning, I will remember.”

“Yeah, yeah, that should work.” They shuffled on the bed, shifting their legs out from under them and instead crossed their legs in front of them. A wise choice, Frys thought. Sitting on their legs for much longer would have stifled the blood flow, causing “Pins and Needle”, as many humans called it. “Might as well just explain what it’s like to me, shouldn’t I?”

“That would most likely be the best course of action, I agree.” Frys closed their upper row of eyes in agreement.

“Alright, uh… you know how when I told you I was agender, you didn’t think it was that big of a deal right?”

“Yes, I still have difficulty understanding why you believed it would be.”

Benny laughed. “Yeah, should have realised a shapeshifting species would be less rigid with all that kinda stuff. Well, uh, with humans, it is a big deal, ‘cause for a whole bunch of years they assumed that what your body was like defined who you were as a person, and were like ‘If you have these traits, then you have to be this’ and stuff. It’s not like that as much anymore, but… well, you getting what I mean so far?”

Frys nodded - a gesture ae’d learned from Benny themself - and gestured for Benny to continue. “Well, uh, for a lot of my life, people assumed I was a different gender because of that stuff, and when I didn’t actively go against it, they didn’t think to stop, and so I started to believe them. My traits were…” Benny paused, and took a sharp breath. “Um, were shoved into this weird binary of ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’, and it kinda, y’know, stuck?”

“I think I do know, yes. You found yourself unable to stop thinking of them as such, am I correct?” Frys hoped ae had understood Benny correctly, sometimes ae had a little trouble following their train of thought.

“Yeah, you’re totally right. So um, once I figured out I was agender, and started presenting in a way that made me comfortable with myself, I kept remembering stuff people had said about some of my features beforehand. How they made me look.” Benny’s hands moved to their wrists, gripping them tightly. “And… ugh, I still do it. I don’t like looking feminine or masculine but every time I look in a mirror all I can see are the things I know other humans are thinking about me and I can’t stop and I hate it and I feel so disgusted with myself and fake and -”

This wasn’t the first time Benny had gotten into this kind of state, and after the last time had ended poorly, Benny had told Frys what to do to help. “Benny.” Ae interrupted, hands holding the human’s arms in a gentle, but firm grip. “Deep breaths. In… and out.” Ae repeated the phrase as Benny’s chest rose and fell, the ‘heartbeat’ Frys could feel slowing to a more normal speed.

“Thanks, Frys, I’m really not in the mood to have some kind of meltdown right now.” Benny smiled, and Frys noticed how tired they looked. Had they slept at all last night.

“You are very welcome, Benny. And from what I’ve heard you saying, I think I do remember a word or phrase similar to what you are describing. Are you feeling a type of physical distress due to  either with your physical state, either your appearance or physical attributes, how other humans perceive you, or how you feel you are treated in relation to your gender?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Where’d you get that definition from?”

“I believe it was an ‘article’ written by a transgender activist, though I do not recall their name.” Frys paused for a second, aer tail flicking as ae thought. “I shall have to look it up after this conversation. But I digress. I think I may be able to relate to how you are feeling, actually.” “You can?” Benny looked surprised. “Really?” “Indeed. In the community I grew up in, we called it… I think the closest translation would be ‘state sickness’. State sickness is the feeling of physical distress and dismay caused by trying to stay in a form that is wrong for you or is no longer how you personally feel comfortable presenting. I experienced it once, a few cycles before I signed on to this crew, in fact.”

“You did?” Benny paused, before tentatively asking, “What was it like?”

“Horrible. I had a romantic partner at the time who often complimented how I appeared, and their words made me feel happy and cared for. However, when I discovered I was Aeyrz, a far more feminine gender than the one I was before, I was afraid that my partner would not want to stay with me if I changed forms. I forced myself to stay as I was for a whole cycle, to the point where even strangers could see I was in pain. I eventually admitted what I was doing to my partner, and they insisted I change forms, that they wouldn’t stand for me hurting myself because of what they thought.”

Benny was silent for a second. “... Are you still together?” “No. But we separated for a different reason, and we remain close to this day.”

“Good.” Benny shifted again, moving to hang their legs off of the bed. “That sounds a lot like dysphoria, to me. But I can’t change my form like you can. All I can do is wait and save up for surgery later, and take medication, and wait….” They trailed off, before letting out a rattling sigh. “I wish I could change like you.”

“If you could, you would not be yourself, you would not be human.” Frys tried to choose aer words carefully, but wasn’t sure what might be the right thing to say in this scenario. “And besides, even if you were able to, you would change like you, not me.”

“True,” They smiled. “Very true.”

“And besides,” Frys continued, aer voice a little unsure. “Just because other humans have called part of you feminine or masculine, does not mean they are if you do not want them to be. You are the one in control of your body, and you are the one who says how your appearance should be seen.”

Benny smiled, a bright, toothy grin that didn’t really match how upset they seemed to have been just a minute ago. “Thanks, Frys, that means a lot to me. And thanks for letting me talk too, I think I’m feeling a little better.”

“Wonderful!” Frys nodded aer head, though perhaps that wasn’t the appropriate moment, and then realised ae had yet to let go of Benny’s arms. Neither of them seemed to have noticed Frys was still holding Benny, albeit in a far more loose fashion. “Ah, I apologise, I should have let you go before.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Benny waved their hand noncommittally, as Frys let them go. “I’d have mentioned it if I wasn’t having a good touch day and I was getting stressed out, you’re all good.”

“That is good, you seem to have been having a bad enough time before, I would rather be a help to your emotional state than a harm.” Frys tail swayed a little, showing aer relief, as a bell sounded from the speaker in the corner of Benny’s room. “Ah, it appears to be the hour of dinner. Is your dysphoria too great to go down to the cafeteria? Would you like me to bring you something?”

Benny pushed themself forwards, off their bed. “No, it’s fine, I’ve been dysphoric as heck and gone to dinner before, and I’ll do it again. ...I’d appreciate it if you could divert any conversation away from my appearance though, that’ll do nothing good to me right now.”

Frys waited for Benny to move past aer before standing. “Of course. I will do my best to help you, my friend.” It was times like these that Frys wished ae could mimic a human’s smile, but aer mouth simply couldn’t make those kinds of shapes. Benny seemed to get the picture though. Did they understand Vlaenue body language, perhaps? Aer tail would certainly have given aer away if they did.

“Thanks, Frys, you’re super great!” Benny smiled again, a more gentle one than the grin they gave aer before. Perhaps they had been exaggerating that smile, to prove they felt better? Frys wasn’t exactly going to ask, of course, so perhaps ae’d never know. “Anyway, we’d better hurry. I heard it was pizza night tonight, and you know how much Alvin loves garlic bread!”

Frys thought that ae were pretty good at understanding human culture, though ae were the first to admit that ae wasn’t the best at human ‘stuff’, and often, ae’d find aerself completely at a loss as to the reasons behind something a human did. But since ae hadn’t made Benny feel worse during their conversation, ae felt pretty certain that dysphoria, or at least this result of dysphoria, was something ae did understand, at least to some degree.

Ae also thought that if Alvin ate all the garlic bread ae was going to cry, but really, that was simply a given.

Frys and Benny’s descriptions of dysphoria are both ways I’ve described my own dysphoria to other people, more or less. This isn’t the best thing I’ve written, but I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of They Don’t Come In Twos!

#About Humanity #Nonbinary #trans #Space Australia #Space Orcs #Humans are space australia #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #humans are weird #space australians #earth is space australia #earth is a death world #They Don't Come In Twos #TDCIT

[itstimetowatch]

Silence of the Lamb

A serial killer case? Sounds fun!

And Veronica is going into business for herself at school digging up dirt on parents of her classmates. I’m sure that won’t lead to unforeseen problems.

Madison’s birthday. This is going to tie into the last point, isn’t it? They spend enormous amounts of money on her for her birthday because of something awful.

Sheriff Shithead returns, as predicted, and he’s even lowered himself to showing up at Mars Investigations. Things must be very rough for him. I’m going to guess from his general shitheadedness that he’s a terrible investigator and he needs Keith’s help with the serial killer. Okay, more of an “All Hands on Deck” kinda deal. Makes sense.

I just realized that Miss Dent has disappeared from the opening credits. Guess she’s off to Mandyville, huh?

The new deputy is Schmidt from New Girl. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see him as anyone other than Schmidt… ever.

Mac’s back! Awesome! It’s good when Veronica makes friends that don’t disappear into the ether… despite the fact that they presumably still go to the same school and would theoretically see each other rather often… but whatever, I digress. She wants to be Veronica’s tech support, just as I predicted.

Holy Shit! Mac was switched at birth?

Oh my God! It was with Madison! Oh my God! That’s why her birthday was pointed out!

Okay, fair’s fair. Sheriff Shithead going for that pretentious rock god-wannabe was pretty damn good. Points to you, Shithead.

Crap! Mac’s family is all super blonde!

Called it!

Can you imagine Madison growing up middle class? HA! (Yeah, I mean, obviously she probably wouldn’t be the Madison we all know and mostly can’t stand without a lifetime of wealth and privilege, but still, can you imagine?)

I get that Leo is supposed to be sweet and charming and whatever, but that smile is 100% Schmidt.

And The Worm is Aaron Paul from Breaking Bad.

So much for your points, Sheriff Shithead, you really are a terrible fucking cop, bro.

So, like, Madison is supposed to be this horrible bitch and all… but, like, they are crashing her party, Mac even specifically said the word and everything. She has every right to not want them there. Furthermore, the library is off-limits to the party, so even further she has every right to tell them to leave. Madison’s not under any obligation to be a gracious host to people who weren’t invited. And I’m sure that the “You don’t belong here” line was meant more in the classist meaning rather than just the regular trespassing meaning, but just because she’s a horrible bitch doesn’t make her wrong.

Has Inga also disappeared from the face of Neptune?

Nope, he’s still Schmidt. Sorry, Leo. Also, he’s flirting with a minor, so I’m not wild about him anyway.

“A cop that rocks? What will they think of next?” (That joke is almost certainly too old for Tumblr.)

“I say we play to our strengths?” “So I’m good cop?”

Hey Sheriff Shithead! Just because someone is confessing to a crime doesn’t mean they actually did it. Everything Keith just said is right on the fucking money, dickwad! 

Never mind, he wasn’t confessing.

Oh, Mac! You may need to revise your definition of the phrase “something stupid”.

Okay, now Madison is being a huge douche.

I have never related to Keith as much as I do right now.

The would-be Rock God is the killer. I’m not sure if I should have guessed that or not. I don’t guess there was a lot to go on, and I guess he wouldn’t have gone free so long if figuring him out was easy.

Deputy Leo to the rescue. I still don’t like the fact that you’re flirting with a minor… especially seeing as you are, y’know, a law enforcement officer and definitely know better!

Good work in the details regarding the descrambled tip. Stripping out the encoding is possible (although it almost certainly would have taken more than the day or two that it’s been since Veronica sent the file, but I understand the necessities of episodic storytelling), but that still wouldn’t automatically have given the right tone of voice and pitch. Good work, writers!

You know if I was Mrs. Sinclair, mother of Madison, I’d probably be pretty interested in what my biological daughter was like, too. Do they follow up on this? Gauging by that ending with Mac and her family, I’m guessing she’s probably done with it... but, y’know, that’s definitely the sort of thing that people can change their minds about later.

So Clarence Wiedman called in the anonymous tip on Abel Koontz, which is obviously supposed to point the guilty finger at Jake, but, of course, storytelling convention says that the good guys can’t have the mystery correctly figured out at the beginning of the story or else the story is procedural not a mystery. This is very definitely not a procedural show, so logically, it can’t be Jake Kane. But what if it was Celeste Kane? We know Clarence Wiedman took the threatening photos of Veronica at her behest, rather than Jake’s. Celeste and Lilly had a fairly contentious relationship. She would almost certainly be horrified if she found out that Lilly was sleeping with Weevil... worse still if Lilly actually had feelings for Weevil (which has not, thus far, been established one way or the other.)

I don’t know if it’s true but that certainly seems like a solid theory to me.

 Anyway, another really good episode. Tons of character development for Veronica, Mac, and Keith. It will be interesting to see (if Deputy Leo returns, which is far from a certainty, he could well be a one-and-done character) how Veronica deals with her using someone hurts them now that she actually likes the guy. Hopefully, he comes back because I would actually like to see that play out. 

He’s still Schmidt, though.

#veronica mars #season one #episode eleven #keith mars #cindy mac mckinzie #sheriff shithead

[lauramalchowblog]

The FDA has approved AI-based PET/MRI “denoising”. How safe is this technology?

By LUKE OAKDEN-RAYNER, MD

Super-resolution* promises to be one of the most impactful medical imaging AI technologies, but only if it is safe.

Last week we saw the FDA approve the first MRI super-resolution product, from the same company that received approval for a similar PET product last year. This news seems as good a reason as any to talk about the safety concerns myself and many other people have with these systems.

Disclaimer: the majority of this piece is about medical super-resolution in general, and not about the SubtleMR system itself. That specific system is addressed directly near the end.

Zoom, enhance

Super-resolution is, quite literally, the “zoom and enhance” CSI meme in the gif at the top of this piece. You give the computer a low quality image and it turns it into a high resolution one. Pretty cool stuff, especially because it actually kind of works.

In medical imaging though, it’s better than cool. You ever wonder why an MRI costs so much and can have long wait times? Well, it is because you can only do one scan every 20-30 minutes (with some scans taking an hour or more). The capital and running costs are only spread across one to two dozen patients per day.

So what if you could get an MRI of the same quality in 5 minutes? Maybe two to five times more scans (the “getting patient ready for the scan” time becomes the bottleneck), meaning less cost and more throughput.

This is the dream of medical super-resolution.

But this isn’t AI making magical MRI machines. There is a hard limit to the speed of MRI – the time it takes to acquire an image is determined by how long it takes for spinning protons to relax after they get energised with radio waves. We are running up against some pretty fundamental subatomic physics here.

AI in this context works after you take the image, as a form of post-processing. We can actually do 5 minute scans already, you just get a very noisy picture (those pesky protons aren’t relaxed enough). In radiology, we call this sort of image “non-diagnostic”, since most of the detail is hidden in the grainy fuzz. In modern practice, we would simply repeat the study rather than reporting a study we can’t safely interpret.

MRI noise – the image on the left is a simulated example of what the image on the right would look like if you scanned for 1/10th of the time. From here.

Enter, artificial intelligence.

If CSI taught us anything, it is that really good computers can fix this problem. Proton spins? Pish posh, we have computers! The whole idea, phrased a bit cynically but not actually misrepresented, is that the AI system can look at the low quality image and … guess what it would have looked like if you scanned it for longer.

Super-resolution! This is an AI made image – they feed in the grainy one from above and try to produce the high quality one.

Now, obviously, “guessing” doesn’t sound ideal in a risk critical situation like medical imaging.

Well … it gets worse.

Out-of-distribution errors

The real problem is not that AI makes up stuff in general, but it is that it might fail to correctly guess the important bits.

Here is the side by side comparison of the AI generated “denoised” image (on the left) and the diagnostic quality image (on the right).

If you look closely you can see that it isn’t perfect (there is still some blurring present), but the overall anatomy looks pretty reasonable. Nothing is horribly out of place, and maybe the blurring/quality issue is solvable with improved AI algorithms.

But here is the key question:

As a diagnostic radiologist, would you prefer a picture that:

a) shows you the normal anatomy clearly?

b) shows you disease clearly (if it is present)?

This example image doesn’t contain any disease, so you might think it can’t tell us anything about whether this sort AI can cope with disease features. On the contrary, this picture shows us pretty convincingly that it probably fail to generate the features of disease, particularly for small volume, rare diseases.

This, like most things in AI, is all about the training data.

These models work, at a base level, by filling in the blanks. You have an area where the pixel values are corrupted by noise? The job of the model is to pick “realistic” pixel values to replace the ones already there. To understand this, let’s look at this example at the scalp on the forehead.

Here we have the noisy version on the left, and we see there are some diagonal stripes. In particular, there are two bright stripes. In the middle image (the diagnostic scan) we can see that the top-left stripe is less bright than the one below it, but on the noisy image they don’t look as different.

So how come the AI image on the right gets the correct brightness for this layer?

This AI model would have been trained on thousands of MRI head images. For every single example it has ever seen, there is a dull layer and a bright layer under it. It just fills it in with what is consistently there.

What about for visual features that aren’t always there though? Let’s look at the back of the neck.

One thing you notice in the original scan (middle) is the black dot. This is a blood vessel (imagine looking at a tube end-on).

But this blood vessel doesn’t seem to be there on the AI version (right). Why?

Well, blood vessels are rare and highly variable in position. They never occur in the same place, apart from the biggest ones (and even then they vary more than almost all other anatomy). So when an AI model looks at the noisy image (left) which doesn’t give a strong indication a blood vessel was there, what will it do?

Will it fill in normal fat, which is seen in this area in 99.99999…% of people, or will it randomly decide to put a blood vessel there?

We would say that this image feature (a blood vessel dot in that exact location) is outside of the training distribution. It has never (or rarely) been seen before, and as such, the model has no reason to change the pixel values to be “blood vessel pixels”.

It is likely that any AI super-resolution algorithms will create images of people without any superficial blood vessels. While this is clearly unnatural (these people would die quite quickly if they existed), it isn’t really a problem. Blood vessels, like most anatomy, are almost never relevant in radiology practice.

But this hints at an underlying flaw. Things that are small, and rare, won’t be reproduced accurately.

And unfortunately, that pretty much describes most disease.

Preventing the worst case scenario

I won’t go into too much detail here, since I hope it is obvious that people with any given disease are much less common than people without that disease. It is also true that many diseases (but not all) have features that vary in location and appearance, or are very small.

The “swallow-tail sign” in Parkinson’s disease. For reference, this structure is about 1-2cm in size, the gap between the swallow’s tail feathers (the dark bands on the left image) is maybe a millimetre.

So what is the risk of these super-resolution systems in practice?

Well, these AIs could straight up delete the visual features of diseases, while making images that look like they are diagnostic quality. This is really the worst possible outcome, since human assessment of image quality is a safety net in current practice. Destroying our ability to know when an image is flawed isn’t a good idea.

So far, I’ve sounded pretty negative about this technology. I’m not, at least not entirely. I think it could work, and I definitely hope that it does. The promise is so huge in terms of cost savings and expanded access that it is worth exploring, at least.

But I am concerned about safety. To achieve the promise of this technology, we need to mitigate the risks.

The only real answer is to do testing to make sure these models are safe. Ideally you would run a clinical trial and show that patients have similar outcomes with AI generated images or normal diagnostic quality ones, but as I said in a recent piece we are unlikely to see pre-marketing clinical trials any time soon.

Instead, we will need to focus on the major risk: not “are the images visually similar?” but “are the images diagnostic?”.

Unlike the earlier images, these black dots are actually signs of a disease (amyloid angiopathy). Do we really think the AI will be better with these dots than it was with blood vessels?

I don’t want to pick on the company with the FDA approval, but they are the only group I can talk about (as I have said before for other first mover developers, it isn’t their fault that this technology is new and untested).

As far as I can tell (acknowledging that 510(k) decision summaries are often incomplete), the FDA only required Subtle Medical to show that their system produces decent looking images. The summary is here (pdf link), I’ve included an excerpt below:

The main performance study, utilizing retrospective clinical data, was divided into two tests.

For the noise reduction performance test, acceptance criteria were that signal-to-noise ratio (SNR) of a selected region of interest (ROI) in each test dataset is on average improved by greater than or equal to 5% after SubtleMR enhancement compared to the original images, and (ii) the visibility of small structures in the test datasets before and after SubtleMR is on average less than or equal to 0.5 Likert scale points. This test passed.

For the sharpness increase performance test, acceptance criteria were that the thickness of anatomic structure and the sharpness of structure boundaries are improved after SubtleMR enhancement in at least 90% of the test datasets. This test passed.

So they showed that small structures look fairly similar, but they make no mention of diagnostic accuracy. At minimum, in my opinion, you should need to show that doctors can diagnose disease with these images. Of course, that is a horribly high bar, since there are thousands of diseases that can occur on a brain MRI^. But you need a high bar. Even if the model is fine for most diseases, you only need one disease that is not visualised 5% of the time and patients are at risk.

Now, to be fair to Subtle Medical and the FDA, the SubtleMR product is not licensed for use with non-diagnostic input images. The summary specifically states “The device’s inputs are standard of care MRI images. The outputs are images with enhanced image quality.” In this setting, the radiologist will always be able to double check the original image (although assuming they will do so is a bit silly).

But this is not the goal of these systems, the goal is to use non-diagnostic images to produce high-quality ones. The alternative (making diagnostic images look better) is a questionable value proposition at best.

I note that the earlier product (SubtlePET) does not dismiss this goal – in fact they say on their website that the AI model allows for 4x faster PET imaging. I also note that the summary for that FDA approval does not mention clinical testing either.

In my opinion, we need urgent independent clinical testing of the core medical super-resolution technology, probably by an academic centre or group of centres. Whether this involves testing the diagnosability of all diseases or just a high risk subset^, until some form of clinical assessment has been done we can’t know if super-resolution is safe.

I truly do want this technology to work. Until it is appropriately tested however, I will be sceptical.  The risk is much higher than is immediately obvious for these “simple denoising algorithms”*.

* I might get some folks a bit upset by calling this super-resolution though out the piece, as it is often called denoising in this context. I honestly think calling these systems “denoisers” is a bit cheeky. It sounds like all they are doing is removing noise from an otherwise normal image. As we have seen, this isn’t the case at all. In fact a more appropriate term used in machine learning circles is “AI hallucination”. I doubt anyone will start marketing a “medical image hallucinator” anytime soon though 

^ yet another situation where having expert defined “high risk image features” would be worthwhile.

Luke Oakden-Rayner is a radiologist (medical specialist) in South Australia, undertaking a Ph.D in Medicine with the School of Public Health at the University of Adelaide. This post originally appeared on his blog here.

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