THG BOOK VS MOVIE FANS-:
Person 1: Man the movie was so good I loved it!
Person 2: Oh really? Tell me then, who gave Katniss the Mockingjay pin?
Person 1: Oh, Greasy Sae. Easy peasy!
Person 2: And there was no mention of a Madge Undersee?
Person 1: Nope.
Person 2: (outside) Hmmm....Ok
What is a name?
“She needs a name Jacen, we can’t just keep calling her baby.” Tenel Ka whispered as she watched the love of her life hold their newborn daughter. The baby was asleep, and Jacen’s eyes were locked on his daughter.
“I didn’t even think of that. I was too caught up in trying to protect her, I already made a mistake out of that. I’m a terrible father.” Jacen tried to swallow the lump in his throat.
“Jacen no,” Tenel Ka squeezed his arm gently. “You gave everything to protect her, you’re already an amazing father.”
“She’s only a week old, and already I’ve almost lost her. How can I be a father if I can’t protect her?” He exclaimed, quickly realising how lucky he was that his daughter didn’t wake. Tenel Ka sighed. He was feeling guilty too, just like she was. She wanted to give Allana the best of everything that she could.
“You did protect her Jacen. She’s the Chume’da, she’s going to face assassination attempts, and there’s nothing that we can do to stop that. All we can do is try our best to protect her. I’m sure your parents faced similar feelings with the Long and when your brother was killed. They’re not lesser then because of it. Just like you’re not. Jacen you are an amazing father, please remember that.” Tenel Ka tried to pour all of her love towards him into the force so that he would be comforted by her. She never was quite good with emotions.
“You’re right, she needs a name.” Jacen smiled, silently accepting her words and love of comfort.
“Do you have any ideas for her?”
“We could name her Padme?” He suggested. “After my grandmother.”
“What about my grandmother?” Tenel Ka added.
“I don’t know if you’ve forgotten already, but she just tried to kill our daughter.”
“Not Ta’a Chume, Allaya, my mothers mother.” Tenel Ka sighed with desperation. “Or better yet, Allya.”
“She was a witch of Dathomir years ago, a former Jedi. She created cultures and ideas that are still used to this day.” Tenel Ka explained.
“Well surely I can have a part of choosing her name.” Jacen said, with a rather hidden bitterness.
“Fine, how about you choose a name, and we mix the two together. We can create one name, special to us.” Tenel Ka suggested. Jacen was silent for a moment.
“Anakin.” He whispered. “Allya and Anakin.”
“Allana.” Tenel Ka said quietly. “It’s perfect. Allana Djo Solo, welcome to the world.”
I'm enchanted by his appetite - there's something so salacious about watching your big fat grizzly gorge and stuff himself for a hibernation that will never come
every session of overindulgence adds more blubber to his body, forcing his walk into a waddle and making any restraints less necessary by the day. after all, who needs handcuffs when his overfed lard-filled body pins him to the bed? or makes it a mission to get up off the couch?
every day he's more demanding and needs more food to keep him satiated - the whole process only increases his obesity at such a rapid rate that everyone sees him blowing up before their eyes. it's impossible to ignore. they observe with troubled looks painted on their faces and I know all too well it only makes him more horngry. I love it when a plan comes together ♡
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i said i will never ghost people...
but i am doing it again! i am ghosting all of my readers and fanfic friends! to be fair, i really wasn't doing good mentally and needed to step away from everything. but i'm doing better now and there's no excuse for me not replying to people's concerned messages. i can at least say that i'm still alive and that i need a break. but every single time, i play this vanishing game...and i never return. i'm starting to become aware that it hurts people.
initially, i wanted to write something and post it then reply to everyone. however, i've been struggling with getting started. i just have no story to tell. and i struggle with being a healthy fanfic writer. when i start writing fic, i get consumed by it and it interferes with my real life. and it has felt so great to not have to worry about anything fanfic-related or what readers think...so i need to find a balance but i've also been thinking about switching over to writing original fiction...so much to think about and it feels easier to just not think about it at all. but i kinda miss talking to readers and posting fic...so i'll try to get myself to reply to people after my exams are over...
submitted by /u/alicemagick
from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/3ynPQyP
Looking for a MHA fic that may or may not still exist
Im fairly certain the title was something like Divine Intervention. It was a fantasy AU with a D&D theme, Izuku is a cleric recognized by no deity, until he dies and is resurrected by the god One-For-All.
I remember reading it months ago, i thought it was on AO3 because im pretty sure i remember seeing it in my subscriptions, but its not there now. I did also check FFN. Im hoping it didn't get removed, but i'm kind of suspecting thats likely the case. So this is basically my last-ditch effort to find it again
submitted by /u/anyname2345
from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/2RqlLO6
One healthy relationship and one toxic one. How to differentiate them in the tags?
Hey so I am a long ways away from posting this particular fic, but when the time comes, I'm going to have a bit of a conundrum when it comes to romantic relationship tags as I have two relationships that play a major role and they have very different vibes. Here's the run down:
A/B: This is the main ship. My OTP to end all other OTPs. They're canon characters who start out antagonistic towards each other but slowly become friends and then lovers. Enemies-to-friends-to-lovers if you will. This is the relationship you read for. This is the relationship you root for. This is the relationship that has a healthy and equal dynamic with forbidden love thrown in there. You get the idea.
C/OC: This marriage exists purely for the plot and the development of the canon character known as C. OC is the villain and the reason why canon diverges into the fic scenario. He acts like the perfect prince charming and uses gaslighting and lovebombing to manipulate C. This is the relationship you root for C to escape. This is the relationship she is almost lured into again, but actively has to resist. This is not a romance at all, and I will snipe anyone who disagrees.
So when it comes to tagging, I obviously want to warn people who are avoiding fics about emotional manipulation, and I want to tag the tropes that would entice people. Since I can't really attribute specific tags to the specific ships, what if people think the OTP is the toxic one and it's romanticising abuse? Like they really aren't kind to each other in the beginning, but their reluctant team up is beneficial to them both, and any hurt goes both ways and is addressed in a healthy manner, then rarely repeated. OC will never change at all, no matter what he makes C believe.
I was thinking about doing something like this in the additional tags:
#So A/B's tropes are #Enemies to Friends to Lovers #Slowburn #Forbidden Love #Power Couple #Healthy Relationships #and C/OC's tropes are #Gaslighting #Lovebombing #Manipulation #Marriage #Emotional Abuse #Lovers to Enemies
It might be a bit tedious if I want to add any more to a specific section (because AO3 doesn't make arranging the order of tags easy), so is it worth the effort, or could I reasonably trust the reader to infer that the OTP isn't the toxic dynamic being warned for?
submitted by /u/Scarlet-Curls
from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/3ygVCCc
Day 3 of A/PI Heritage Month featured authors interview! Please perceive... Jess!
Jess, author of A Bard's Tale
A/PI Heritage Month Featured Author
It takes place on the fictional continent of Amaran, a high fantasy setting based on Asian and Pacific Islander cultures as opposed to traditional Eurocentric high fantasy.
In the wake of a terrible war, you are a young bard just starting your journey. Will you answer the call to adventure and embark to rouse the sleeping gods?
(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)
Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?
A Bard’s Tale is a story about a bard, and about a few more bards, and a world that is still living in the wake of war and occupation.
More specifically, it is the story of a bard (you!) and your quest to wake Amaran’s sleeping gods. The Bard has been experiencing recurring dreams prior to the start of the story, calling them to the capital city of Mahar’il – where they meet a colorful cast of companions and take the first steps of their journey.
A Bard’s Tale mixes old faithful D&D/RPG elements with dating sim-esque romance, and doesn’t take itself too seriously. The result is some good, clean fun. (Or dirty, depending on your choices.)
Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?
(Future scenes, can’t wait for readers to get to xyz place in the plot, etc.etc.)
I am most excited for readers to take their first steps onto the road. Mahar’il is meant to be a “home,” of sorts, and so these first chapters are adamant about familiarizing the reader with the city and the people they can expect to find here. But Amaran is so much bigger. I’m excited for people to see some of the other cities and regions that they’ve been only briefly introduced to so far, and also to get cracking on the complicated dynamics of Aspen and Tempest.
Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?
I’ve been working and playing in the larger world of Valia for a long time – through homebrewing D&D campaigns, and through the novel I am also working on, which takes place a continent away and a few hundred years in the past.
A Bard’s Tale sprung from the thought of “What will this world look like when this is all over?” “How will these people start to heal?” And, of course, “If I wrote a dating sim, who are Amaran’s most eligible bachelor(ette)s?”
Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?
I do! I am a biracial Korean-American, and both my parents were also born in America. It comes with a lot of diaspora blues, which I try not to project onto my characters that live in a fictional high fantasy world where racism and borders don’t have to exist. I admit that it tends to project pretty heavily anyway on the half-elves, Edin and Han.
The influence from my cultural background will become more evident the farther from Mahar’il that we get – particularly in the Jinju and Kujaku regions, which are inspired by Joseon-era Korea. (Loosely, in Kujaku’s case.)
Mahar’il is a cultural melting pot, and my inspiration for it is actually, largely, San Francisco. I’ve always admired the architecture of SF, and how the juxtaposition of antique and modern, ethnic (particularly Asian) and American, creates a sort of chaotic harmony.
However, I feel that it is important to note that the perspective from which I write is that of an Asian-American, and not just an Asian. My story is not rooted in Asian mythology, nor does its structure reflect Asian media and literature, because my foundation is largely Western.
Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the if community...
Writing has always been second nature to me. Translating that to game code has been a bit tricky but I manage. And if I get stuck, I’ve made plenty of friends in the IF community, both authors and readers, who are more than willing to lend a hand.
In terms of my readers, I feel so, so blessed by you guys. I started this for fun, truly, thinking no one would be willing to read such a niche story and certainly not clamor for more than a demo. The support I’ve gotten from the community has been astounding, and I’m truly grateful for it.
Q6: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?
My biggest advice is do what makes you happy, and write from your heart. Inspiration will not always be there when you want it to be, and that’s okay. Set out a pot of coffee and a nice inviting blanket for when that fickle mistress decides to appear. Don’t shy away from projects that aren’t capturing your attention, but don’t devote more time to them than you want to. No one is judging your pile of half-finished drafts, except yourself.
Go where the wind takes you, even if it’s not “profitable” or even “good,” because every minute that you spend writing makes you a better writer. And on that note, write write write. I don’t think you need to set a daily timer, or whatever Stephen King said in his self-help book, but if you make a habit of it you will see progress. And read read read. You can’t pour from an empty cup, so read voraciously – and take a scalpel to your favorite books. Learn from them, dissect them, understand what makes them tick and then sprinkle a little of that in your own work.
And finally, fix your sleep schedule. I know you need to.
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It’s time for another round of "judge the book" where I look at the summaries provided by the publisher and decide whether it is worth reading. However, we are going to change up the game a bit. Instead of having an opinion about every single book (which is sometimes impossible, even though I am very opinionated), we are going to play “Yays and Nays”. Books will be sorted into the categories of “Yay”, “Nay”, or “Indifferent”. Those I have strong opinions about (the Yays and Nays) will get long write ups, but the others will not.
Come play the game at website theartistryofreading.com!
It Goes Like This by Miel Moreland
May the Best Man Win by ZR Ellor
Mister Impossible (Dreamer Trilogy #2) by Maggie Stiefvater
Off the Record by Camryn Garrett
Tokyo Ever After by Emiko Jean
The Charade (Eden Falls Academy #1) by Judy Corry
In the Ravenous Dark by A.M. Strickland
Perfectly Parvin (Perfectly Parvin #1) by Olivia Abtahi
Don’t Breathe a Word by Jordyn Taylor
Last Chance Books by Kelsey Rodkey
Made in Korea by Sarah Suk
The Marvelous Mirza Girls by Sheba Karim
Shipped by Meredith Tate
Some Girls Do by Jennifer Dugan
When the World Was Ours by Liz Kessler
There is also a deleted scene from The Last Olympian, the last book of Percy Jackson and the Olympians series!
The following was posted by Rick Riordan on his blog, a long, long time ago (October 3, 2013).
A Deleted Scene from The Last Olympian
Recently on Twitter I mentioned a deleted scene from The Last Olympian, in which Percy Jackson comes across his old nemesis Nancy Bobofit, the mortal girl who bullied him in The Lightning Thief. The scene was cut from the book for the sake of keeping the narrative moving, but I’ve always liked it. This week I spoke with Publisher’s Weekly about how I decide which characters to highlight and sideline in each book. As an extension of that interview, the deleted Nancy Bobofit scene is featured below.
Percy, Thalia, Annabeth and Grover are heading to Central Park to fight the Titans when they run across a group of unconscious mortals. As you may recall, the god Morpheus put all the mortals in Manhattan to sleep before Kronos’ army attacked the city:
The lights of the city were blinking on. I guess they were on automatic timers. The streetlamps in the park glowed, making the lanes and the trees look spooky – like we needed any more spookiness.
Thalia stopped and tensed, like she was catching a scent. “I’ll be back. Need to check the Hunters on the right flank.”
Her bow appeared in her hands and she disappeared into the trees.
We stepped over bodies of sleeping New Yorkers, moving them to safety when we could. We were just coming to a stone bridge on the northern side of the park when we came across a dozen kids, all slumped next to a pretzel stand, like they’d been lined up to buy snacks.
Grover yelped. “Percy . . . look.”
He crouched next to a girl with orange hair and freckles. She reminded me a little of Clarisse, because she was a big girl, like she was built for tackle football.
And then my eyes widened. “Oh my gods. It’s . . . Nancy?”
I hadn’t seen her in four years, but I still recognized her. Nancy Bobofit, a bully who’d made my life miserable in sixth grade. Grover and I had been at Yancy Academy, and she would pick on us mercilessly. She’d been around the first day I suspected that I was a demigod.
“Who’s Nancy?” Annabeth asked.
“A girl we used to know,” Grover muttered. “Not a very nice girl.”
I looked at the other sleeping kids. Some I’d never seen, but a few looked familiar.
“This is our class from Yancy,” I said. “They must’ve been on the summer trip.”
“Yeah,” Grover said. He pointed to a lady in a flowery dress. “Here’s Mrs. Watt. She always chaperoned the summer New York trip. If we’d stayed at Yancy . . .”
He didn’t finish the thought. We both knew that was impossible. We didn’t live normal lives. We never would’ve made it through middle school without monsters destroying us or the school or both. Still, it was strange looking at my former classmates. I never went backward. Once I left a school, I always tried to leave it behind for good. Besides, the memories were usually bad. But looking at the kids who’d kept going, even stupid old Nancy Bobofit, I felt a wave of sadness wash over me.
“They’re right in the path of the battle,” Grover said, and he looked at me to see what I’d suggest.
“We have to move them,” I said. “Under the bridge, maybe. They’ll be safer.”
“After all she did to us,” Grover mused, “it kind of serves her right to be stomped by a titan army.”
“But we can’t.”
He sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. Maybe . . . draw a moustache on her, at least?”
Four years ago, it would’ve been tempting. Now, I realized that I didn’t hate Nancy anymore. I was a different person. She was a mortal in the path of danger – we were the only thing between her and destruction.
“No moustaches,” I said. “Annabeth, give me a hand?”
She was studying me carefully, trying to read my thoughts, but she didn’t say anything. She just helped me drag the school group to safety.
This deleted part is in Chapter 14: Pigs Fly, between these lines:
“Do you think Ethan suspects about your weak spot?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “He didn’t tell Kronos anything, but if he figures it out—”
“We can’t let him.”
“I’ll bonk him on the head harder next time,” I suggested. “Any idea what surprise Kronos was talking about?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t see anything in the shield, but I don’t like surprises.”
“So,” she said, “are you going to argue about me coming along?”
“Nah. You’d just beat me up.”
She managed a laugh, which was good to hear. I grabbed my sword, and we went to rally the troops.
--- Somewhere here. ---
Thalia and the head counselors were waiting for us at the reservoir. The lights of the city were blinking on at twilight. I guess a lot of them were on automatic timers. Streetlamps glowed around the shore of the lake, making the water and trees look even spookier.
“They’re coming,” Thalia confirmed, pointing north with a silver arrow. “One of my scouts just reported they’ve crossed the Harlem River. There was no way to hold them back. The army . . .” She shrugged. “It’s huge.”
“We’ll hold them at the park,” I said. “Grover, you ready?”
He nodded. “As ready as we’ll ever be. If my nature spirits can stop them anywhere, this is the place.”
I posted this drawing yesterday then had to delete it because I noticed this morning a mistake
Like, why do I always see mistakes AFTER I post
I check the drawing three times, post it, then badabim badabam there's the mistake
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Today, i'm combining two different books. And they're not very far from each other. It's Why We eat (too much) by Dr Andrew Jenkinson and Midnight Chicken by Ella Risbridger.
Starting with Why We Eat, you would think it's gonna be judgemental but it's not the case. Dr Jenkinson is a consultant in bariatric surgery, an invasive procedure that cuts the size of the stomach in order to decrease the appetite (by decreasing hunger hormones). But apparently, it's only a short term solution for obesity, because there is a more powerful physiological boss who wins in controlling appetite. The hypothalamus. That's the neuroendocrine gland in your brain. And it has a tight relationship with fat tissue through a messenger called Leptin. All human beings have this hormone that signals to the hypothalamus how much fat (which is a vital source of energy) is stored in the tissues and exerts a negative feedback on it. If there is high level of Leptin (energy fuel tank is full), Hypo keeps you satiated and amps up your metabolism, and vice-versa. So you don't even need to exercise to burn calories. That stands for healthy people. In obese people, there is a huge amount of Leptin but the boss doesn't acknowledge it. It's called Leptin resistance. So to Hypo, there's no Leptin hence feeling ravenous hunger to further fill the tank. That's how hard it is for obese people to stop eating. They don't have a choice. How did they get obese in the first place, you say? Genetics mostly, then environment, then Western food (you'll need to read to know more).
Where does this Leptin-Hypothalamus dysfonction comes from? Two things: High insulin level in the blood by eating high-sugar foods and TNF-alpha, an inflammatory substance made by immune cells as a result of fat tissue cells getting bigger with stored energy, which has effects on vessels (heart disease), articulations (arthritis), cells (cancer) and, you guessed it, the hypothalamus while neutralising the effect of insulin thus creating more of it, which perpetuates fat tissue formation.
So, how can we solve this? First, no dieting. The human body evolution process made sure that it stays alive, so in period of shortage or famine through time, the hypothalamus elevates its equilibrium level (called weight set-point) so that the human being eats more, stores more energy and prevents future energy depletion. Dieting emulates a famine-like state to the brain. You surely lose weight for a few months but you gain more of it when the boss wins over, even more than the pre-diet weight. So, no harsh restriction of food, but minding what kind of food you're eating. For Dr. Jenkinson, the only thing you need to decrease is refined suga, not cholesterol (studies on how cholesterol is dangerous for the heart were biased and funded by sugar companies), to try to get rid of wheat, nuts and vegetal oils because they're rich in Omega-6 which is not the omega we need. Omega-3 is the one we need the most. We can get it from vegetables, meats, eggs and dairy products from grass-fed cows, lambs and chicken, and sea based fish. So it's not about how much you eat, but what kind.
At the end of the book, he gives a few steps to help you regain your normal weight-set point regarding food, exercise, sleep and stress management while also managing your expectations on how quick and drastic your weight loss will be.
It's a well written book. A tad long, but interesting to read.
Andrew insists throughout the book on how important home cooking is. How it's a community driven activity since the discovery of fire. And in order to commit on your weight equilibrium journey, you need to enjoy the process, and cooking yourself is one of those pleasures. For cooking newbies like me, cook books are a must. Not just any books, but the relatable, cut-to-the-chase, no-bullshit, easy-to-follow ones. I discovered one of these and it's a gem.
Ella is a funny one. And this is an unusual cook book that you can read just for leisure time. Being a cooking-for-dummies kind of book is a bonus.
And the thing that makes this book special is how cooking was sort of salvation for Ella going through her bad bouts of depression. Having anxiety, i got how she felt and i understood how helpful this book would be to a lot of lost people. First, she gives a brief list on what utensils and staples you need in your kitchen, with no fuss. Then she gives some recipes relating to times of her life and mental health moments.
I have to admit that not all her recipes were for me, but i enjoyed every little bit of sunshine she threw in them. They're written like essays, not like your usual cookie-cutter books, so it makes them easy and lovely to grasp. A beautiful heartwarming book.
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Nouvel extrait de T.O.
Coucou, tout le monde. 😊
Petit extrait de T.O., une dystopie riche en rebondissements, en humour, mais aussi en amour... 😉💖
« Nous nous installâmes et fixâmes les sangles de sécurité. Les moteurs ronronnaient en attendant qu’un viriloïde torse nu – sélectionné par les Libertines pour sa physionomie particulièrement attrayante et puissante – donne le signal. Posté au milieu de la route, il avait un drapeau dans chaque main, bras levés et écartés, en une pose magistrale. Mon corps tout entier vibra d’anticipation et lorsqu’il abaissa enfin les drapeaux en un geste fluide et rapide, mon cœur s’emballa et mon pied enfonça la pédale. La VSP fusa si vite que T.O., surpris par la poussée, laissa échapper une exclamation grossière. Comme copilote, je n’avais pas l’impression qu’il allait faire des miracles. Il ne semblait pas à son aise, du tout. »
Partez à la découverte d’un monde post-apocalyptique où seules les femmes ont survécu, remplaçant les hommes par des viriloïdes domestiques serviables et… multitâches. Venez rencontrer Tahia Rogmaifer – Twaïla La Garce pour les intimes – et croiser la route de T.O., un androïde pas comme les autres.
🏁 T.O. est disponible ici : www.amazon.fr/dp/B08T9GHMNK
Bon dimanche. 📚
I’m a therapist and my patient is going to be the next school shooter by Dr Harper
I’m a therapist and my patient is going to be the next school shooter by Dr Harper
I’m a therapist and my patient is going to be the next school shooter by Dr Harper
Sometimes when you pick up a book you are not sure where the story is going to lead you.
With this book I thought it was quite simple, it was going to be a collection of stories about patients that the Dr had treated however the title is deceiving.
This book is much more than simply the story of the patients, it…
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Azarkant by Andrey Klimov
Clementine Lane by Eoghan Brunkard #BookReview #RBRT @BrunkardEoghan
Clementine Lane by Eoghan Brunkard #BookReview #RBRT @BrunkardEoghan
Cover: Clementine Lane by Eoghan Brunkard
The author sent me an ARC of this book (mobi format) in exchange for an honest review (a member of Rosie’s Book Review Team).
My rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ (four stars)
No man is an island…. but in Dublin an inner-city lane can be just that. Welcome to Clementine Lane, where everyone knows everyone’s business and respectfully keeps it to…
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Okie doke - I know I may regret asking this..... but hit me with your best and move favourite fan fic recs for any of the below;
- John Wick
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Industrialization of Life
Slow Days - Chapter 6
This is a proper chapter for once. As in a chapter of a book, not just a short essay about one of my weird daydreams, so you might need multiple cups of tea for this. I'm having my moment of pride, don't worry, it will be over soon. If you haven't read the previous chapters you can find the full collection on my blog. Enjoy :)
The Probe exited the Kuiper Belt, slowly moving sol-ward. Its utter size rendered all human definitions of "vessel" meaningless. It hadn't been built for humans though, it had been built to eat. The gates on the mechanized astroid opened, as large as the humans' towers and wider than most earth-rivers long, to reveal hangars filled with autonomous agents, sized from the scale of humans themselves to the dimensions of large factory buildings. A small group of a few thousand, roughly the size of oil tankers and shaped like squished, edged eggs, separated from their docking station and disappeared into the abyss.
Alecjo stared at the wall in his cabin. It's been 3 weeks since they passed the asteroid belt. The fault had been with the electronic valves. A fault they couldn't fix while fuel was flowing through the system, which they couldn't stop since the valves were broken. If they had turned the ship around they'd have fallen short, slowly turning towards the sun. That wouldn't have been a problem if they had flown a stable transfer orbit, but they didn't. It would have been too slow to meet the required timeframe. Therefore they would have been in a parabolic trajectory towards sol, eventually hitting her surface. Sure, it would have taken months, but the captain didn't want to risk it. Eventually, he decided to dump the remaining propellant and hope that someone would come to rescue the Vuoto, while only pointing the ion-thrusters outward.
Alexander raised his head; he sat on the other side of the room. They had been sharing rooms since Diana and the captain had converted the other cabins to growing cabinets. "I'm going to check the scans again", Alex said.
While Alecjo and Diana had been outside Alex had sent out a distress signal and it actually went through before the power went out, but it wasn't answered the way that they'd hoped. A day after the broadcast they received an encrypted transmission. An update to the system computers completely and physically bricking their radio by burning capacitors in one of the modules, crippling the ships ability to communicate or announce their presence. They could listen, but not speak up. The company had decided that the Vuoto and its Cargo weren't valuable enough to spawn a rescue operation. It was illegal sure, but no one would have persecuted them, even if the public had found out. The update served to prevent public outrage. To prevent possible revolution. They had betrayed the crew, so Alexander Laventryev hoped for the kindness of strangers.
Alecjo didn't answer Alex. He hadn't really spoken to anyone for three days. It was just too much effort. He was well-nourished and physically fit enough, but it was just so hard; so Alex left him in the cabin.
As Alex entered the bridge he saw Diana was already there monitoring the life support for about the fifteenth time today. Silently he flew over to the radio console; in his peripheral vision, he noticed Diana trying to conceal turning her head towards him slightly. "Anything new?"
Her voice sounded rough. Alex sighed as he scrolled through the new messages. Diana eyed him, annoyed about his silence.
"The captain needs 8% increased soil humidity in your quarter. Make that happen until tomorrow." Alex sharply exhaled as he pushed his rising discontent to the side. He didn't like to be bossed around like that. Sometimes he thought of how little he actually knew about the other crew members. He knew Alecjo was married and that Diana had been living with her sister before she left earth to provide for both their lives. The captain was a father, but he had never talked about the mother of his two daughters.
>>I might be the one who left the least behind<< he said to himself as he reached the bottom of the log. No transmissions for them. Not one even mentioning them.
"What did you say?", Diana asked harshly. She hadn't slept well the night before. "Nothing, just talking to myself."
Alex hadn't even noticed he had muttered those word out loud and he felt a slight sting in his chest as Diana drifted over to the exit to leave. "I'll have it done by tonight" Alex mumbled. Diana left for the growing cabinet, that what had been Alex cabin.
She tried to focus. Her peripheral eyesight had shrunk down to about 60 degrees. As she floated down the hall her bowel started to sting again. Plants weren't her strong suit but she thought herself to be decent at engineering.
The internal ship database suggested 30 mols per square meters per day over a 16 hour period for growing vegetables. The converted cabin had a 9-square-meters-footprint and was 2.3 meters high. Therefore the room had a total growing area of 2 times 9 m² floor and ceiling, and 4 times 6.9 m² wall area totalling 45.6 m² of which approximately 42 were usable. This results in 1260 mols per day. The LEDs stored on the ship for on-the-job mechanics specified 1.6 micromols per joule produced, so over a 16-hour period the cabin required 787.5 million joules, or 49.218 million joules per hour. Diana needed to find 13.67 kilowatts for the greenhouse to operate effectively. Life support was out of the question. The now unusable radio had used up 27 watts. That wasn't a lot of help. By shutting off the navigation and communication subroutines in the computer they could save around 800 watts, but that also barely made a dent. Fuel pumps and valves had had 5 kilowatts allocated to them. Significant, but there were still 7.9 kilowatts to go. The cogs in Diana's head started to turn when she softly hit the floor of the hallway.
The Vuoto had 10 ion thrusters, each using a minimum of 3 kilowatts. They would have to shut off 3, an idea the captain would not like. It would put the Vuotos thrust off-axis as there was no gimble on the ion thrusters, but the more they'd shut off the further they'd drift outward. They could also only turn off two, but that would decrease the potential output of their crops. Joseph always stressed how getting home was their top priority and this would make their journey longer. Much longer.
>>Oh god, what will he think of me?<<
The thoughts lingering in the back of Diana's head had started poking through more frequently, but she kept pushing them aside, trying not to give them too much attention. Desperately trying.
In the cabin, Joseph was watering the berries when Diana flew in. "I hope you have some good news for me", he said more cheerfully than Diana had expected. He didn't look up from what he was doing, hovering on the would-be ceiling his face vanishing in the leaves. "I-", Diana was struggling for the right words, stumbling over her own tung as she tried to ignore the pain in her abdomen.
"I need power from 4 of our ion engines... Now, I know you want to limit our ti-"
"I trust you." The captain talked over her. "Do what you need to do." He was annoyed Diana interrupted him. Always on her feet, always wanting to change something, to improve the ship. The seeds had started to grow towards the centre of the room and he was testing the acidity of the soil again. Oh, and the tomato plants needed their leaves clipped. And he should trim the berry bushes. He grabbed the gardening scissors from his cargo pants and drifted over to the back wall with the vegetables. It was peaceful in the cabin and the plants needed him. Back on earth, when he was still living in that lakehouse with his daughters, he had dreamed of becoming a farmer. He could never scrape up enough money to lease the machines and the land, let alone buy them. But up yet here he was, needed for his gardening abilities. He collected the clipped leaves and slid them into the zip-lock bag taped to his belt. "Did you have a garden growing up, Diana?"
"We..." Diana tried to tear through the fog in her skull. "... the neighbours had planted some on the roof, but we never had a garden of our own, no."
"What a shame. I used to tell my daughters stories about rows upon rows of grape bushes and vast fields."
"It's... nice to have something to dream of", she muttered as she hovered in the door frame.
Diana had a bad gut feeling after she had left the captain in the chamber. She didn't know the captain very well, but she knew he didn't like space. He didn't like the void. What if he just wanted her off his ass? He could fix anything she'd screw up when she wasn't looking, Diana thought as she moved back to the control room. Her intercom device cracked. "Diana?" Alex's voice crawled through the speaker: "I need a second pair of eyes on this."
Two drones latched into one of the many asteroids in the belt and started chipping away at it, one by one shaping the debris into small, cubes-like structures, maybe 5 by 5 meters in size, which shot into the void, back towards the mother ship.
i spent last week reading my RPF novel UPOP (starring pep guardiola & several OFCs) and i realised how stuck i am, how i now feel i lost those 10 years of being “in love” with the portuguese guy. how two of my friends who were the basis for two of the OFCs of that massive, massive 150k words fic have moved on, have careers, married, had children, you know, the regular beats in peoples’ lives, while i am still like back then, an awkward 20 something still interested in some accompanying art, still squealing with delight at some own turns of phrase & characterization... in a bloody fic!
yesterday some of the restrictions were lifted and out we went, 4 friends out of 5, bar hopping like 20somethings (even if only the youngest of the group is still in that age bracket, her too closer to 30) and squabbling over nothing, inconsequential things. we had bloody marys in takeaway coffee cups and drank in the street and it felt so good, and yet... i know i am 38 and i know i am stuck and how do i get those years back?
i have to move out
Writers that have depicted relations between an older and an underage character-- have you ever had to justify it to the readers? If so, how?
Also why do you think people are so intrigued to read stories with these types of themes? Do you think these types of stories should continue to be written about if the relationship is depicted in a positive light or not? What are your general thoughts on these types of stories?
submitted by /u/BoneCoffeeSoup
from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/3hxXalc
Do readers care when you do research on a topic you're writing?
First post on new account, yay
Do readers actually care if you take the effort to make the writing a bit more realistic by researching the addictiveness of opioids and and the science of an aneurysm that clotted, leading to an infarction, leading to muscle death?
I could just use psuedo-science and I can't tell if anyone will care enough to be able to tell the difference, but then that makes me feel like I'm not putting actual effort into what I'm writing.
submitted by /u/ClottedAneurysm
from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/3w9jgOZ