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#ive done the same thing out of boredom
noritaro · 2 years
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my ass seeing someone take out a sketchbook + some microns in public and then getting up to sneakily walk past them so i can see what they're drawing without brothering them
only to see an entire page filled with literal scribbles and nothing else
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thumpersdae · 2 months
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I Am once again asking for season 3 Dndads to be about adults <PLEASE>
specifically my adults here that i have already made!
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WELCOME, Folks!!! to my Cyber Punk Nursing home Dndads Pitch!!!
DNDADS PRIDE
(pride is a brand of a motorized wheel chair)
[straps activate on you chair you are stuck here you must read!]
So the idea is that Grandkid's (Scary, Link, Normal, Taylor) Grandkids (shown above) are the playable characters, but there are all seniors who have been placed in a Long Term Care Facility (a better name for "nursing homes" btw). But the world has progressed enough that things are cyberpunk!
maybe all of the PCs loved one's all stop showing up on the same visit day. The PCs combine their efforts to try to find out why, and then they run into a big mystery or conspiracy through that.
themes that could be in season 3 just because we set it in a care facility and have senior Characters.
Normalizing a variety of disabilities and dreaming of how accessibility devices can advance
humanizing people over 50, [Please please please, we've done it to the middle aged, we sexualized the heck outta those dads. ive seen what people have done with Omega Daddies in certain circles (my circles) we have the Power to let retired people be more than a punchline. i want something to look forward to in my older years! let them be silly complex sexual full people PLEASE!!!]
community building!!! alot of care facilities in my area Have social and communal activities they do because their residents get together and demand/them. groups -just like the one ive drawn- get together, out of boredom and loneliness (often people who have better mobility and memory) and then make it their job to work with staff and people who have a harder time advocating for them selves. to make sure social needs and wants are being fulfilled. and now that we have (what i perceive to be) a younger audience. it would be great to show them how that sort of work is done and how it can make a big change to quality of life. [the 3rd character (who i designed for Will) seemed like the type to start one of these groups. just look at her with that big purse and cool jacket. thats a move maker folks!]
the way that older/disabled people are often overlooked, and therefore people often forget to keep secrets away from them. [the second character (i designed for Matt) i wanted him to look as unassuming as possible, for this exact reason]
Interesting Villains and Problems that aren't often shown because people font write about older folks.
an exploration on how technology can help people (and how corporations will make people have to pay for medically necessary things)
the way nurses and care staff can be very helpful and empathetic. and how others are assholes who are at best just here for a paycheck, and at worse actively hurting people for amusement.
Elderly abuse, not just actively hitting people. there are countless examples of people taking advantage of people who are disenfranchised (like an older people or people with disabilities). often we see and talk about financial abuse. [my idea of the first character (hopefully played by Freddie), was someone who seemed oblivious to a deadbeat family member using them for money maybe because of a memory issue. (potentially there could be a twist about the PC knowing the whole time, and deciding to go along because they think its funny that their kid has to sit threw a marathon of daytime television to get 50$ a week instead of just outright asking for a lump sum)]
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skinnytuna · 10 months
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to me there are two emotions at each extreme of experience, and they are mostly the same.
at the bottom pole…
a dull boredom.. listless.. anxieties weaving in and out. unmotivated. a vague directionless sense of Desire but no will to choose or pursue. quickly giving way to worse and more inward versions of itself.
this is wrong, im wrong, everything ive ever done is wrong, the future is wrong and worst of all i haven’t a damned thing to do about any of it. dead. unmoving. pessimistic almost by default.
at the pinnacle…
a rapturous, sublime melancholy. a quiet joy with the distinct awareness of its own ignorance, its own temporeity. nostalgic but for the presence. a yearning fondness for what is not yet past but soon will be.
a deep consideration of the future and past value of this moment. that this is what you lived to see, and what you will live to achingly remember.
but they both ache.
two days ago i was on a mountain under the hot sky. i was listening to a song i’ve listened to thousands of times in thousands of places since i found it on bandcamp ten years ago. two chords, alternating, no cadences. the wind was gently pushing my clothes around. my calves were killing me earlier in the trek but the pain lessened the more i warmed up.
my friends and loved ones were scattered around the rock face in various levels of awe at the horizon.
i felt that sublime melancholy. i remembered the memory i was in. i remembered feeling that feeling with those same people before. i thought about how many times i’ll get to feel that feeling before i die. i thought about how many of these people i will still get to feel like this with in 5 or 20 years, and how many will have gone their separate way by then.
a lot of people fear a life unwell-lived. a life with regrets. to be honest it’s not something i think about much. my long term and short term memory, generally speaking, are catastrophically bad for someone with a mostly-healthy brain.
i know this because a lot of times i will react to something i had already reacted to once before in the same way i did it the first time, and i won’t remember, but someone else will, and we laugh about it.
but it makes the nostalgia thing funny. because i will probably forget that evening on the mountain. and i’ll need someone to remind me how it went.
but i never forget the feeling.
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tarnishedxknight · 2 months
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{out of dalmasca} Well... I'm finally home. I got home around 2:30PM. Saturday. For a same-day procedure scheduled for 4:30PM Friday that should have taken from check-in to discharge about 4-5 hours.
Yeeeeeeeah...
It. Was. An absolute nightmare. I'll briefly summarize below a cut for anyone who wants the dirt and to hear my harrowing tale of woe, lol, but long story short, it was one of the worst experiences of my life and I never want to go back to that hospital ever again, heh. Which.. is sad. I was born in that hospital. My mother was a nurse there for the majority of her career. She loved that hospital. My life was saved there when I was two and sick with JRA, and my dad's was saved when he was in his 60s and he got a rare blood infection. But this experience? -47/10 would not recommend. But it's done, the actual surgery went well, now I just have to heal up. =)
Okay, so. What happened was... someone who should've had a 2-hour surgery before me to have their appendix removed ended up having a cancerous tumor there that nobody expected. It was really in there good and wrapped around important things, and the surgery took 8 hours to safely remove it. So my appt. time was 4:30PM, I was told to get there at 2PM, I got there at 1:45PM... and I didn't have surgery until 11:45PM. It was a total fiasco of everything that could possibly go wrong... going wrong.
Machines broke down or malfunctioned. They did a random maintenance of the computer system so none of the nurse could log into their little mobile kiosk accounts. I had two different bed issues. One took three nurses to figure out how to lock it so it didn't move around (the table I was having surgery on), and the other bed (my post-op recovery bed) the nurse backed so far up that it got hiked up onto a drawer of a shelving unit behind it and then wouldn't raise or lower. When she figured this out, she closed the drawer, causing the bed to painfully and suddenly drop like 8 inches to the floor with me in it. My check-in nurse disappeared and they couldn't find him for a solid hour and I had to get another one and restart the whole process. Another forgot to take an IV port out of an elderly patient who had been next to me and let him go home with it, only to have to walk him through removing it over the phone later. None of this instilled confidence.
They put me in a room after surgery because "it's late now," and the phone didn't work in the room. Neither did the TV. That's okay because I couldn't see anything anyway AND I had no cell phone because my dad took them, because they told him he'd be coming back in a couple hours to take me home and then... just kidding. So I sat in one room for 8 hours before surgery, and then sat in another post-surgery for 13 hours. With. Nothing to do (except they did have a passable portable tv in the first room, which I'll get to in a second). Unable to see or make calls. And I had none of my meds that prevent other serious medical issues while sleep so......... I couldn't sleep. I had to fight to stay away or risk things going wrong in other ways. Dear gods, the boredom and stress.
I was put in a room with a terminally ill cancer patient who wanted to chat and tell me in gory detail everything about her illness. That... was not what I needed right just then. Then, she kept like... I would push the call button (once I found out where it was because nobody told me), and because I was hidden in the back and she was by the door, they would just ask her what she wanted, she'd get help to do this that or whatever, and then they'd leave again without even talking to me.
Just outside our room was the man who had the appendix out. He was shrieking, crying, and moaning all night long because he was in pain, and they couldn't give him anything for it because his blood pressure had bottomed out. It was like something out of a horror movie, except real, to listen to the sounds of agony this poor man was making. Extremely upsetting. I cried twice just because I had a visceral human response to the sounds he was making. Another reason why I got no sleep.
I am supposed to be on a low fat diet, at least until I heal. Also, when you have GE surgery, the last thing you want is to drink caustic acid. So what do they bring me for breakfast? Orange juice, raw pineapple, and tart strawberries (I could feel them all burning on the way down, I was in agony), and then scrambled eggs with melted cheese, fried breakfast sausages, and fried potatoes. Like. What the actual fuck. And coffee. I detest coffee. When I asked for tea I got looked at funny and told they couldn't give that to me. Apparently hot tea is a burn risk, but hot coffee is fine. Yeah, okay, sure. Tell that to that woman who sued McDonalds for burning her own lap. I couldn't eat the potatoes, they were so dry I was afraid of choking on them, it was ridiculous. But I ate and drank as much as I could because, all told during this process, I had gone 17.5 hours without water, and about 21 hours without food.
The reason they kept me overnight was because my surgeon just left afterward. He didn't talk to me, didn't give discharge orders, didn't say anything, he just left. Then, as of like 6AM when they called him, he didn't answer, until around 12PM when they gave up and called another doctor, who basically said yeah I'm busy I'll get to it when I get to it. Hence me not being released until 2PM.
And the pain is..... omg intense. Debilitating. Not at all what was described to me as what to expect. And I'm no wuss, I've been in and out of hospitals since I was two, I have 10 piercings, I had all four wisdom teeth extracted and was eating pizza later that same day lol, and I have a very high pain threshold, so for me to say the pain is A Lot™ is.... yeah. This is hell. I am in hell. XD
But I am home now and I just need to somehow get through the next few days until the pain gets better and my life gets more normal. My sleep schedule is all messed up and the pain is distracting, so I'm not sure when I'm going to be on to write. Over the next 3 days or so, I'll do what I can, when I can. If I feel like it's comforting and therapeutic, I will. If not, I won't.
BUT... the one ray of light in this hellish process was that in the room I was in for 8 hours the first time, they had a TV, and even though everything was blurry without my glasses, I found a channel playing movies. I got to watch the classic Ghostbusters II, which I love, and then they had back to back Iron Man and Iron Man 2. Got all the way through them, and then they moved me 10 minutes before IM2 ended, which was... rude. I've already seen it but still. That's so annoying. XD
The funny thing was, the night before surgery I was so anxious I couldn't sleep, so I was on my phone watching and listening to random videos and music. I found my favorite music video of Tony Stark/Iron Man that I hadn't seen in a long time, and it was weird for me to click on it because lately I haven't been writing him and I felt a bit detached from the character. So I thought it was funny that I randomly watched that the night before, and then I'm in the hospital watching Iron Man movies on their TV, haha. Needless to say, my muse for Tony is now through the roof, so... that's going to be a thing for a while.
Weirdly enough, watching Tony going through all the medical stuff with his reactor, and watching him battle his own anxiety and neuroticism, was strangely comforting to me sitting hours on end in a hospital awaiting surgery having one panic attack after another. I know, it makes no sense, you'd really think it'd make me more nervous, or that it would exacerbate my anxiety, but you'd be wrong. Neurodivergence ftw, heh. XD
Anyway, I'm home, I'm hurting, but I'm okay. And actually, despite everything going wrong, my actual surgery apparently went "perfect textbook" well. So that's the most important thing. I may be lurking for a couple days unless I get better sleep and my pain gets to a level where I can do more with my brain than just sit here and think.... ow. XD I'll see how I feel in the next few days and if I need to extend my hiatus from my regular rp schedule further, I'll let everyone know.
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thedarkheretic156 · 2 years
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IV_ Eternal Flame_IV
Parts: ❧ I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX❧
TW: slight gore.
The old folklore of the east whispers of a terrible power. Wielded by a lone demigod, fated to walk through the eras the dark fires of hell dancing on her fingers. With no regard for human life, she was fated to be feared and worshipped. But fate is a bitch. Now cursed to be stripped of her powers and doomed to mortality she finds herself in the care of a sworn rival. The great Daiyoki of the west.
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❧Hunt❧
I groaned into the grass. It was hot, unbelievably humid and I was bored out of my mind. The cicadas buzzed loudly around us as Rin and I sat making flower crowns from wildflowers. The act felt strange to me, I hadn't ever really stopped and bothered to look at flowers. Much less play with them. But the child seemed to have found curiosity in everything.
Rin sat among a patch of violet-blue flowers, thin fingers wrapping flower tendrils into delicate braids. She looked so content just doing that. I wondered what it would be to feel that at peace. I sighed, throwing a clump of grass in the air. "Rin?" I asked, "Do you want to go hunt?"
Rin's humming stopped, "Hunt?"
I shrugged, "or anything else really, I could teach you how to spar." "I don't like to fight," Rin replied meekly, setting the flower crown down. "I don't think I could hurt anyone." She said, shuddering as if repressing a bad memory.
I frowned. "Just because you can wield a sword doesn't mean you have to hurt people," I replied. "The choice remains with the master, not the weapon."
I arched my back, the laziness of the humid evening weighing down on me. "You're human. You're a woman. The world will be harder on you." even as I spoke, I wondered why I cared all of a sudden.
A small voice rang in my head, what does it matter? A human child, bound to death, what good could a blade bring to her life?
Rin shook her head, "I have lord Sesshomaru to keep me safe." She said smiling, I rolled my eyes.
"And master Jaken, and Ah-un." The child continued in a sing-song manner, "And now~" she added, "I have you too." My half-lidded eyes flew open, shocked more by the brazen coincidence of the words. Wei, the real Wei, had said the same thing. Grinning her beautiful smile, so bright it rivaled sacred fire burning behind her.
And what had happened to her?
I felt myself grimace at the old memory. And then, even after all that, I had just let her die.
10 more days. I counted down. 10 more suns before the feast of Manna, could I even stay near her after that? Can I see through the belief the human child had put in me? Something dark settled in me. Rin placed the finished flower crown on my head. "All done!" she announced, "You look so pretty!" she said clapping her hands.
Not this one. I thought, promising it to whatever wretched deity that was listening. I won't fail this one too. The dusk settled in, painting the sky a beautiful auburn, against the vast sky, Rin's frame gleamed with life. The soft scent of wildflowers clung to her palms. For the first time Y/n, felt peaceful. But she hadn't just realized it yet. Not quite yet.
You are going soft, daughter of the hills.
I jerked up, sitting around wallowing in thoughts was doing nothing.
"Rin," I said. I needed to do something about my boredom, "what do you think about having Pork for dinner?"
"This feels like a bad idea." Rin said sheepishly, "We could always just eat the fish lord Jaken got for us." She said shuffling hesitantly. I grunted, "take this as a small token of advice Rin, never settle for alms from someone, when you can get better things by yourself." I strapped Mrutunjai to Ah-un's saddle, patting the fire-demons snout. He huffed in response lowering one of his heads for a pat.
"But your wounds-" Rin continued, "I don't think you should hunt until they are completely healed, and its already dark, what I lord Sesshomaru finds out-"
I looked at the young girl and grinned. Rin felt a rush of warmth as the cockiest smile laced the older female's face. There was truly something different about her she couldn't fathom. At times like these when she smiled, Rin would feel as though the woman should have been born with razor-sharp fangs.
I pushed my long braid over my shoulder, "Let Onee-san handle this." Th further we walked into the forest the more nervous Rin grew. I knew all she could think about was how Sesshomaru wouldn't approve of their little exercise. But right now I couldn't care less, the Daiyokai and Jaken couldn't be seen since morning. These two would just wander away without any explanation, expecting us to stay put like good little humans and I was far over it.
Having to wait around for them to return to do anything was getting on my nerves. The frustration seeped into my steps as I angrily strode forward. Ah-un at my heels. The overhead canopy grew thicker and Ah-un grunted. He seemed to have spotted something. I narrowed my eyes, scanning the pitch darkness of the forest before us, there was a faint twitch and I grinned, "Good boy" I whispered to the fire demon.
I pulled on his reins and the fire demon stopped, Rin peeked out from his saddle, "What's wrong?" I motioned her to stay quiet and slipped Mrutyunjai off the saddle. I gave her a departing wink and patted one of Ah-uns heads. In an unspoken command, one fire demon to another, Ah-un understood perfectly, leaping gracefully into the midnight sky. Taking Rin away at a comfortable distance from the hunt site. I leaned against my sword, warming my human body for what was to come. An undeniable thrill went down my spine as I wrapped my fingers around the familiar hilt. Usually her blade would have roared to life, quivering with bloodlust. But right now it felt dead in my hands. I adjusted my stance. No time to mope over that now. I locked my eyes on the beast, hiding perfectly with the stripped brown trees around the undergrowth. Mud flies buzzed around, and the beast's ear flick was the only sign I needed to charge. The boar noticed, obviously. At the first crunch of the dry leaves under my foot, the monstrous beast burst out of its hiding place. Plowing chunks of earth with its upturned tusks on its snout. The bellow sent birds flying from all directions.
My speed was drastically low, the human body alien to any kind of fighting, I had lost so much strength, I needed both my hands to hold up my own sword. But my mind hadn't forgotten the eons of harsh training. The demon instinct honned over the years and just the pure thrill of drawing blood took over completely. The boar charged at me, I steadied the blade in my hand and waited, just a little closer now. I dropped to my kneed, wringing the wicked blade with me, slicing through the beast's front legs. The animal's scream rang through the forest, the crimson blood splattering everywhere. The wound tipped it off its balance, slamming head first into the trunk of a wide mahogany.
Good. I thought It was a clean cut through its legs not powerful to dismantle the limb but enough to send its balance for a toss. The splatter of blood had already covered one side of my face. Out of habit, I stuck my tongue out and tasted it. The metallic taste of blood sent shivers down my spine. More.
I needed more.
It charged again, and dashed towards me, its wounded legs buckling, the upturned tusks narrowly missed my torso as I slashed the sword across its eyes. If I still had my ayakashi body I would have just let the beast crash into me, it would have been a blow I could take easily. But now I had to dodge even the lightest attack, one mistake and it would smash me up against the bark of a tree. Well, it just made it that much more thrilling.
The beast now half blind squirmed before me in a panic frenzy. I pulled mrutyunjai up, my arms shaking with excitement and exhaustion. And charged again. It continued to scream in agony as I sliced through it, evading the tusks and curved hoofs. My blows were clean yet ruthless, chopping off the beast's hind legs, ears, and chunks of its snout before allowing it to die. I growled giving the final blow, sinking the blade hilt-deep into its heart. The beast spluttered out more blood before finally falling silent.
I drew the sword from the corpse and Ah-un and Rin descended down. I kneeled down beside the beast pressing my palm against its snout. "king of beasts, slain in sport, slain in hunger, I bow down for your sacrifice."  I whispered out in the old tongue, a prayer my clan spoke after every kill.
Rin's pale face popped out of the saddle again, "is-is it d-dead?" she whispered, there was a queasy look to her face like she was going to be sick. I tried to stand up, but my knees gave away. The little hunt seemed to have taken a massive toll on my human body. I doubled over, the world before me spinning. Rin squealed, running towards me at once, I felt her thin arms around me as she spoke, "are you okay? You're hurt aren't you?!" She wailed out, "I knew this would happen I knew -"
I opened my mouth to reassure her but a familiar croak beat me to it. "THERE THEY ARE!" Jaken's strained voice called out, "M-master Jaken-" Rin started, but the toad demon was fuming. Fuming.
I had no strength left to retaliate. Fuck I was worn. There was no breath left in me and my whole body shook from exhaustion. I dropped to the ground, pushing back blood-slick hair from my face.
"UNGRATEFUL HUMANS BOTH OF YOU" he screamed at us, "Going off alone at night, into the forest, without any courtesy of even ASKING your Master Lord Sesshomaru! you have no right!" he continued, "No right to wander off on your own, NO RIGHT- not when Lord Sesshomaru has so generously taken your useless self under his wing-" his gaze pinned on Rin, still smoldering with anger. And I wasn't going to take that.
"We went on a hunt." I explained simply, reigning in the tide of anger rolling in.
He pointed a green finger at me, "I knew it was a bad idea to take you in." He snarled. "There wasn't any use for another dead weight troublemaker here-
"Load the beast on the saddle," I told him softly. There was a long period of silence that followed before Jaken went red with rage, "Only Lord Sesshomaru can command me. He boomed shaking with anger, "you filthy, low-life, undignified-
"Rin." My voice was pure venom. I had just about enough of these insults, "How about we have frog legs for dinner as well?" I  asked murderously, The intent to kill seeped into my tone. For a moment I completely forgot who I was and who the goblin in front of me was. I just wanted to kill again. Draw blood. I felt the trance take over me. I flicked out my tongue tasting the thick, boar blood caking my face. More. Cut its throat. A death-like whisper spoke in my head.
Skin it alive. Another whispered.
More. They sang in unison. More.
I felt myself raising Mrutyunjay again-
"Jaken."
The cold voice snapped me back to reality. I blinked realizing what just had happened, the trance wore off as soon as it had appeared. The bloodthirsty voices faded out as if someone had flipped a switch. The thought that I would have struck Jaken down, right in front of Rin made me shudder.
Anger, daughter of the hills, if you don't leash your temper it'll run you over.
I looked up to see Sesshomaru toss the beast onto Ah-uns back. His amber eyes flashed towards me. Molten gold. My human blood quivered, making my teeth clatter. My mortality itself recoiled from pure daunt, as my survival instincts kicked in. I was standing in front of something so much more powerful than my human self. He called it back, tearing the cold unreadable eyes off my figure. I knew more than well what he was doing, a silent warning, using one's ayakashi aura to suppress the weaker species.
A reminder of who really the daiyokai here was. He turned away wordlessly, taking Jaken with him. His long silver hair faded into the canopy as Rin helped her on her feet.
"Lord Sesshomaru is just upset." She promised her weakly, "He won't let you go though, so you don't worry, I'll talk to him-" the child continued, giving me well-meaning yet rather empty words of reassurance.
It was clear he wanted me and Rin to return on our own with Ah-un. I pulled myself onto Ah-un's saddle weakly, before pulling Rin up as well.
Her heart and mind were still racing as they leaped into the night sky. The standoff with the daiyokai had sent her human body reeling with fear. But her ayakashi mind had felt it differently. The burn of his gaze, the way his aura had encased her threateningly, her ayakashi mind had felt it at its core. It had been just as powerful, yet not daunting. It was something else that has stunned her into silence, something else entirely. For her ayakashi mind, it was arousing.
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Parts: ❧ I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX❧
I can't wait to make it a smut already, but we need more plot. T8T
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the anon who doesnt have aspd and taught myself empathy again here! i've never talked to a psych (self diagnosed autism) and as a teen i was p sure i had aspd (i Knew shit was strange w me and really wanted an explanation and once i figured out my mix of trauma and autism things made sense) coz lack of remorse and shit but i never actually really matched the rest of it -- i dont have substance abuse issues and never have, im p easily entertained, i've had the same three friends basically my entire life. i do though describe myself as the worlds most boring hedonist coz like yeah i sometimes have a hard time controlling my impulses and im motivated by fun but for me thats usually p simple -- easily entertained. read a book, video games, jump around to music. i AM frequently bored though?? like its my most frequent emotion and ive spent a Long time learning to cultivate my joy and really feel it properly. but im also the most easily excitable person i know. i dunno, i have v large emotions that appear then disappear quite quickly. a favourire hobby of mine since i was a kid has been to start arguments between the ppl i care abt and see how large i could make them in a single session then solve the argument w/o the ppl realising i'd manufactured and egged on the argument. which typing that out now seems uh. an interesting hobby. but late last year i told my younger brother and he laughed coz its a v me thing to do and was like "yo thats fucked. pls stop doing it to me" so since then ive mainly tried to just like playfully tease ppl in a normal way coz cognitively i understand its a fucked thing to do and im trynna be like, a decent person who doesnt go outta my way to play w ppl for funsies. which yeah that uh... maybe i Should look into aspd more again, i did a fairly shallow look into it as a teen and relating to azula as much as i did as a kid (and izaya as an older teen/young adult) was deff a sign of smth
i've followed you on this blog for a while (i think you'd only had it for a couple weeks when i first followed u?) so yeah i did know the story abt u and ur fiance! v cute
i feel like maybe we need a different identifier than "the anon who doesnt have aspd" because that might not be, uh. accurate! i have o clue why a lot of people with aspd seem to congregate around my account but i guess this is an aspd helpline now??????? whuh????
like im not complaining its just. how did i get here
also i think ive deadass used the "worlds most boring hedonist" descriptor for myself before and i deal w chronic boredom the same way you do- i have a LOT of hobbies and i plan elaborate projects and that entertains me but only temporarily
and thats the thing about aspd! it- like every other disorder- is a spectrum. you might not have substance abuse issues, and i do. you did.... your interesting hobby, and i find it morally fucked!* i have no idea your relationship with criminality, and i got fired for stealing
*i have done something similar but i have a moral policy of like, only fucking with people who Deserve It. who deserves what varies case by case and what exactly i do... i need to explain weird spiritual stuff to go in depth andyeah im not really itchin to be called crazy on tumblr dot cum
aspd in general is very misunderstood and no literature really focuses on what its like to have the disorder, only the perceived damage being around someone with the disorder will bring- which is why i initially self diagnosed thru tumblr posts from ppl talking about their symptoms in a serious educative way
sometimes i think like, maybe i don't have aspd, maybe i'm just autistic and i'm spreading misinformation- but i never really felt "at home" with other autistic people. its like- yeah i click better with other autistic people, but i'm still masking, i'm still faking, and even in this situation i can drop the mask partially but not fully. growing up with a personality disorder and trauma in communities largely filled with autistic people with trauma, very quickly teaches you that there's something different about you. it's an isolating, traumatizing feeling- my experience with this was mainly symptoms of npd, but like.... knowing you have a problem, wanting it fixed, and knowing nobody around you knows how deep the problem runs, and might even find its existence laughable or dangerous... it's isolating! and its shitty!!
generally i tend to Know if things i'm doing are bad or not, i just tend to not care in the moment, because it's better than being bored! entertainment wins out over everything. it's actually kind of terrible; i'll do stuff just to see a reaction out of people- it's like izaya, honestly, what happens when people are pushed to their breaking points?
thats kind of how i got so much into angst and psychological horror. not only did i want to break the characters, i wanted to break my audience. i'd tell my friends detailed stories about torture partly because i was interested in my story, mostly because i wanted to see their horrified reactions. i wanted to see how far was "too far," and i keep that stuff in my current narratives- i keep the pov extremely tight and do silly little tricks with narrative and formatting to make the audience feel like they're Really There
so yeah look into aspd. do it boy listen to me im the ps5 im speaking to you inside your brain. do it boy do it
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vonkarma2 · 2 years
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9 13 & 19?
9. What is one of your character's theme songs?
Very difficult to pick just one this is so much pressure. Does anyone have like only one song associated with them like a side character or something. Ok I couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t embarrassing so Im dodging the question. To make up for it here’s a playlist I made of ed ideas like if it was an anime these could be the ending song. Or an ending song if it was the same as like dorohedoro where they had a bunch of different ones 
13. Which OC do you make art/media with the most?
I think it’s actually Angel, like Rocio used to be the OC I drew by far the most but I actually think I draw Angel slightly more these days or at least like in terms of drawings that take more than 15 seconds. Probably bc there are more poses and outfits I can draw him in + expressions I can draw him with, whereas Rocio only does this 😐🧍and wears the same thing like every day of their life. But yeah he’s super fun to draw and I actually have written some things from his perspective as well which I also think is fun :) he has like a unique perspective like within the characters because of his personality and backstory. I feel like I haven’t shown like the negative sides or what he’s like enough so far though so I’m looking forward to doing that in the future 
19. Who is your most recent OC?
So I think like I’m not going to count people as an oc if they don’t meet the qualifiers of 
-Having a name -Having a solid defined storyline and/or personality -Having been drawn or written abt more than once By this metric I haven’t made any new ocs in a while 😔 I’ve done like character designs but none that have really stuck, probably because I like already have a lot of established ones that I’m focusing more on yk. Like there are a lot of storylines I already have, so I feel like a lot of dynamics + types of characters I find interesting are already covered, and I usually don’t really need to make new ones. Usually my motivation for trying to make new characters is like an aesthetic or tone I think would be interesting but that’s not really enough to base a whole character off of yk. I’d like to come up with more ocs bc I like designing characters but yeah I think I’d like to focus more on my older ones for now. Maybe I’ll try to come up with new like main ocs if/when I finish writing out their story. I feel like the side stories will be in minor character limbo forever bc I don’t really have a story with them and also bc I was picturing them as a comic or visual novel which I would never finish in a million years. Whereas I think I could eventually finish writing something yk.
But anyway time to actually answer the question <3. Actually now that I think abt it it’s probably Connor Armitage collab with @lycanthrology . Does he really count he like canonically exists (long story short he’s another character’s shitty absent father) but doesn’t ever appear or get directly mentioned or anything. Absolutely 0 relevance to the story at all. Also he might not count because Ive never drawn him + I don’t think anything had been written with him.
Before that it’d have to be Dominic Ortega from meat city which is also a collab with various people including @zipmode whose art you should check out <3 (the other people I’m not going to tag here because idk their usernames on this website). First and foremost he is a rabbit furry. But also he’s like an old man who used to be a lawyer but got incredibly tired of his life and so moved to meat city and became an evil wizard instead. Carnomancer specifically bc yk meat city. He likes creating monsters for fun and unleashing them among the populace also for fun, main goal is to escape boredom in life + find some kind of connection even (especially) if it’s negative. He used to have a sort of friend in thr form of James Bianco who was like. His Jesse Pinkman. But unfortunately he was accidentally killed horrifically, and Mr. Ortega’s (Im not on a first name basis with him it feels weird) attempt to resurrect him instead created a mindless zombie which eventually gained an entirely new intelligence. This person’s name is Rico theyre like their own character but the question didn’t ask to explain them as well so I’m not going to <3. But the two characters do interact I might give them like a goal they have to work together to accomplish that might be fun to write abt. But yeah he was created May 2022 so that’s when I have most recently made a new character.
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iwtbaa · 2 years
Text
Sooo… I’ve always wanted to be in space. Well actually not always cuz my year 5 teacher showed my class a video of people living in the ISS which inspired me to want to become an astronaut. I started to forget my dream as I saw no point due to my low grades which made me act like i didnt give a damn about my future, thinking that I’ll probably work a dead end job like every one else, wanting the present to be hurry it up and move onto what happens next cuz it will be the same as today. Uh sorry that didnt make any sense. Anyway, now out of nowhere my passion for space exploration has come back to me. All I think about is how much I love space and physics and math. Before all i thought about was boys, or the one show people are talking about, or other dumb stuff like that, but at the end of the day I would reflect on things that ive thought and done throughout the day and have like this feeling of umm kinda like emptiness/boredom/unsatisfactory. Idk something like that. But now I realize it was cuz all that stuff doesnt matter, were worrying about things that are so so soo small compared to the whole entire universe. Instead of scrolling through brain numbing content why dont people fill themselves with the wonders that science has to offer. I want my existence to have had some use to human kind, to help answer question and discover new things and help science. All I want to do is be useful for science. And ik that right now im just a dumb teen who cant even write but i hope that i can learn to do better and soon enough become an astronaut.
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ncssian · 3 years
Text
A Favor: Part Twelve
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: this took so long bc ive been reading chain of iron and in general agonizing over things i cant control instead of being productive 🥴 that being said, absolutely none of the events in this chapter were planned in my outline, but here we are with something new!
***
December brings more snow and bone chilling weather, to the point where Cassian has to drag Nesta out of bed, either physically or by phone call, to get her to therapy appointments on time. 
She’s in the waiting room one freezing morning when, in her utter boredom, she musters up the nerve to turn to the girl sitting next to her. “What are you in here for?”
The girl blinks her large blue eyes, taking notice of Nesta for the first time. Nesta uses the opportunity to take in her freckle-painted face, a little wan but beautiful. Reddish brown hair hangs around her face and shoulders, creating a thick curtain from the rest of the world, and Nesta’s curiosity piques like she’s just found a shiny new toy.
It probably isn’t right to compare people to toys, but then the girl says, “This isn’t prison, you know.” Her voice is deep, almost sultry— completely at odds from her huddled-in posture and sickened expression. “I didn’t commit a crime to have to be here.”
Is she insulted by Nesta’s question, or is she poking a joke? Nesta decides to play it safe by murmuring, “Sorry, never mind.”
She starts to turn away when the girl says, “We’re trying a new type of trauma therapy today. I had to get here half an hour early because I couldn’t swallow my nerves.”
Nesta might lack many social skills, but she isn’t stupid enough to ask what kind of trauma the girl is being treated for. Instead, she nods casually as if she understands the struggle. “I’ve been coming here for weeks now and I’ve barely discussed shit. That’s mostly on me, but you know…” She actually doesn’t know where she’s going with her train of thought. “It sounds brave to do whatever you're doing,” she states finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to open up that much about myself, ever.” 
The girl gives Nesta a weird look that she immediately recognizes. Nesta uses it every time she doesn’t know how to respond to someone who takes her by surprise.
The door to Lana’s office clicks open, and the woman herself pokes her head out with a plain smile. “Ready, Nesta?”
Nesta bites down on her frown. She has a feeling today won’t be as easy as her past sessions.
She’s about to leave without another glance at the girl beside her when that low voice speaks up. “I’m Gwyn.”
Nesta looks back at her as she gets up from her chair, and says the first reply that comes to mind: “Good to know.”
***
Nesta is contemplative hours after she gets back from her therapy session, bundled up in her bed with a coloring book. The repetitive motion of filling in the mandala drawing lets her mind wander, picking up and dropping different thoughts like she’s inspecting stones. 
She keeps her wrist light as she colors in with red. She finally said Tomas’s name in therapy today, though the action left a slimy feeling in Nesta’s stomach that lingers even now. She also spoke about her sisters, which somehow ended up leading to a discussion of her uterus. 
“How have you been dealing with the endometriosis news?”
Nesta shrugged. “I’m getting treated, and my last period was more bearable than usual—”
“I mean mentally, how are you doing? With how your condition could affect your future?”
Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Affect me how?”
“Have you never considered the impact it could have on your ability to bear children?”
“Not everything in life is about bearing children, you know.”
“We’re humans. It’s definitely something to consider.”
“Not for me. I’ve never wanted kids.” A mistruth at best. “I don’t care what endo does or doesn’t do to me on those grounds.”
In a way, Nesta told herself, the health risks were actually for the best. If she ever did, by some stupid loss of sanity, try to have children, then her body would act as a safety net from her decisions.
Lana only said, “You’ll never know how much you care or don’t care until you talk out your feelings.”
“Then I guess we’ll never know.”
Nesta lets the memory of that conversation drop like a stone on a shore. That’s not something she has to face for a good long while. No, right now she has to face her past. 
Her sisters, and her ex, and even her father— 
I wonder if I came off too strong with Gwyn today. 
Her hand stops drawing, and she switches out her red marker for an orange one. This thought she doesn’t mind inspecting for a little longer: she and Gwyn ended up leaving their sessions at the same time, which meant they were forced into stilted conversation on the way down to the parking lot. 
Not forced, Nesta self-corrects. She willingly initiated a conversation, and it didn’t go terribly. She wonders if making friends in therapy waiting rooms is a real thing.
Her phone vibrates beside her, breaking her hours-long mental bubble. Blinking dazedly, she answers the phone call.
“How are you?” is the first thing Cassian says to her. He makes sure to ask her that at least twice a day, like a gauging of her temperature. It makes Nesta wonder what she’s ever done in her life to call for such… attention to her well-being. 
“I’m good,” she answers honestly. “My head’s a little loud right now, but I don’t mind it.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No, I’d rather hear you talk.” She slumps back against her pillows, coloring book forgotten. “What’s up?”
“Ah...” Cassian sounds hesitant for the first time since their relationship started. “It’s just that I haven’t gotten my Christmas decorations up yet, and I was going to ask if you wanted to help.”
Nesta takes a moment to absorb his words. “It’s December fifth,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“You just seem like somebody who does their decorations the day after Thanksgiving.”
“Well, this year is a little different, with you moving out and being busy with school…” He pauses. “I was waiting to do it with you.”
When she doesn’t reply, Cassian adds, “I don’t even know if you care about Christmas. I know you and your family sort of ignored holidays. It’s fine if you don’t want to—”
“I’ll be over right now,” Nesta blurts. 
Half an hour later, Cassian swings open his door with a smug grin on his face; a vast difference from the stammering hesitance he displayed over the phone earlier. Nesta’s own lips want to pull up into a smile just at the sight of him, but she holds back and narrows her eyes instead. “What’s got you so worked up?” she questions as she steps into the warmth of the cabin and out of the freezing cold.
“The way you ran over here as soon as I asked.” He looks her up and down, still amused. “You didn’t even bother to change, did you?”
It’s true: she’s in the same sweatpants and long sleeved tee she wore around home, and her socked feet are shoved into slippers. 
“Get that smirk off your face.” Nesta flicks his nose before tossing her coat off. “If this is a competition about who’s got a bigger puppy-crush for whom, you already won when you delayed putting up your Christmas decorations for me.”
“Fair enough,” he grins. The words send an unexpected pang through Nesta, because it’s partly true, isn’t it? He cares more openly for her than she does for him. 
She looks away in guilt, not knowing how to fix the imbalance. Her eyes land on the living room coffee table, where their half-finished jigsaw puzzle sits. It’s been stored under the couch for the past few weeks, forgotten by Nesta and Cassian alike as they moved on with their lives, but now it’s sitting out again.
“Have you been working on the puzzle without me?” She raises an inquisitive brow, about to feel— hurt.
“Never,” Cassian promises, saving her from that irrational hurt. “I just brought it out because I figured we should get to finishing it one day.”
She pads over to the table, picking up a puzzle piece and turning it over in her hand. “I don’t know if you remember, but we had a terrible time working on this,” she scoffs lightly.
“Oh, I remember,” he says, coming up behind her and stealing the piece from her grasp. “I think it’s safe to say those evenings were the worst fights we’ll ever have together.”
Nesta leans back against Cassian’s chest and hums. “It made us a stronger couple, don’t you think?” She turns her head up and back to meet Cassian’s eyes, finding that he’s already looking down at her.
Hypnotized, she leans into his warmth. She only manages to land the smallest kiss against his lips when his hand squeezes her ass cheek. “You’re here for a job, remember?” He taps her butt before pulling away, gesturing to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living area with his chin. It stands bare. “You do tinsel, I’ll do lights.”
Tinsel is harder to work with than Nesta remembers. She only manages to get half the tree done before plopping onto the Persian rug, exhausted and covered in silvery material. She doesn’t mind laying there while Cassian continues working; it’s her revenge for when he napped on her bed while she moved in.
“You know the stair railings still need to be wreathed, Archeron.”
Nesta declines to respond, tilting her head on the carpet for a better view of her boyfriend’s ass instead. “All this decorating,” she starts. “Is it just for you?”
Cassian turns to her, surprised. “Well…”
She pushes up onto her elbows, catching her mistake. “Are we doing Christmas together? Or are your friends coming over?” She hasn’t bothered to celebrate Christmas in years now, and she doesn’t care much what Cassian’s plans are either way.
“I was hoping for both?” He sounds hesitant. “Christmas Eve is all the way over in Velaris, but I was thinking we could go together, open some presents, and come back and spend Christmas here.”
Nesta purses her lips. She doesn’t actually hate that plan. Both Feyre and Elain have been pestering her with the annual texts asking her to visit for Christmas, and for once, she feels like responding to them. The invitation is more of a formality than an actual request at this point; she doubts her sisters want her there after years of rejections, but… what’s the harm?
“Is that a yes?” Cassian asks at her unreadable face.
“Yes,” she states unflinchingly. She refuses to overthink the possible consequences of this choice and chooses to focus on the broad grin overtaking Cassian’s face. “Really?” he says.
“But there has to be rules.” Nesta sits up fully now. “No one can know we’re together, no matter how much you trust or love them.”
“We already agreed to that, baby.”
Yes, but Nesta knows the secret weighs on him heavier than he shows— even if he agrees with her that it's for the best. “It’ll be different when we’re together in the same room as everyone else,” she says. Cassian wears his beating heart on his sleeve, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to hide it before.
“You’ll also be different,” she adds. “It’s a huge change of pace.”
Cassian drops the remaining strand of lights and smiles confusedly down at her. “What do you mean, I’ll be different?” He sits across from her, before the blazing fire. 
“You know how you get around your friends.” Nesta shrugs without a thought. “Like your personality readjusts to mirror the people around you. I used to find it a mix of sad and adorable, like a neglected puppy desperate for love, but now I— okay, I still feel the same way.” She waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.
By the look on Cassian’s face, he does not find her words so easily dismissed. 
Coldness curdles in the pit of Nesta’s stomach, the realization that she’s said something wrong. She can’t fix it until she knows where she fucked up, though.
“Is that what you think of me?” Cassian finally says lowly. His usually expressive mouth is drawn tight and narrow. 
“Um… What would you rather I think of you?”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “Seriously, Nesta?”
Nesta’s back stiffens, refusing to cower. “I only described what I’ve observed in the past.”
“And what you observed was a desperate puppy?” His voice is cold in a way she’s never heard before.
Okay, she’s starting to see how that might be offensive. She forges onward, “Tell me what you think about yourself in the presence of your family, then.” It’s a private victory that she says family instead of clown circus. But she’s not trying to turn this into a fight.
Cassian is silent, but his stare continues to rage at her.
“Tell me,” Nesta repeats.
His hands curl into fists on the rug. “I think I’m empathetic, easy to talk to, and easier to be around. Is it a problem if I’m likable?” Unlike you are the unsaid words.
Nesta inspects the space between them like it’s a chessboard. “And what part of yourself are you giving up to be so likable, Cassian?” she says quietly.
“Nothing.”
Nesta disagrees, if only because she’s been watching him out of the corner of her eye for years. “I think you base your personality off of those you love, and you lose a little bit of your true self every time you put others’ needs before your own.” 
She shuts her mouth, not having expected such honesty to come out of it. Cassian is taken aback, too, she can tell.
“And I guess it’s natural that you’d see all of that as a bad thing, considering your history of being closed off and self-serving to a fault,” he fires back with the flatness Nesta utilizes so often.
One for one. Fair enough. “We’re both right then,” Nesta says. “You work for your best friend because you have no ambition beyond serving your family, and I have no such family because I can’t bring myself to care about those things. Are we even now?”
Cassian furrows his brows, those defensive walls melting away as he realizes she’s completely serious. “What? No, Nes—” He shakes his head. “Okay, so maybe you’re right about me. Maybe I agree with you a little bit, but… If we see flaws in each other, then we should be working to overcome them instead of weaponizing them.”
Now Nesta’s the one shaking her head, quickly lifting a hand to stop him. “Relax there, sweetheart. I have no expectations from you or myself to go on some self-improvement journey now that we’re together. Talking about my feelings with a professional every week is hard enough.” Yes, agreeing to go to Feyre’s Christmas party is improvement. Slow, barely there improvement, but enough to wear her out for the rest of the month. For Nesta to fully let people into her life, to treat them as lovingly as she treats Cassian— that’s a long way away. She can’t envision it, doesn’t even know if she wants it.
Cassian must understand some of what she’s thinking, because he nods and backs off. He gets back up and returns to stringing lights, tossing a handful of tinsel at Nesta as if to say Get back to work. 
She stands and obeys, thinking their not-argument is officially over when Cassian says, “You’re wrong about one thing.”
She looks up from where she threads tinsel through fir leaves. He doesn’t take his eyes off his work as he says, “You do have a family. And deep, deep down, you care about them as much as I care about mine.”
***
Nesta catches Emerie’s eye as the dark-haired beauty walks into the pub. Raising a hand and waving, she gestures Emerie over to the booth she’s sitting in. 
“Look what I found,” Nesta says with a hint of pride, pointing to the redhead sitting beside her. “A third girl for girl’s night!”
“I was kidnapped,” Gwyn speaks up. “Jumped on the way to my car.” She’s out of her usual hoodie and in a tight-fitting blouse, looking stunning even while seeming out of place in the dim bar.
“She came here consensually,” Nesta retorts. “Emerie, this is Gwyn. We met at therapy.”
Gwyn offers Emerie an awkward smile.
Emerie slides into the booth across from them with raised brows. She looks between Nesta and the new girl and back again. “You invited her here? All by yourself?” she asks.
Nesta nods firmly.
Emerie breaks into a wide grin and reaches over the table to grab Nesta’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!” If Emerie were anyone else, she’d be squealing in excitement, but Emerie does not squeal.
Nesta waves off her friend’s praise, though a part of her wants to beam at it, too.
Gwyn glances between the two of them with slight amusement. “I mean, it’s not that impressive,” she says. “She came on a bit too strong, probably a five out of ten on the asking-someone-out scale.”
“‘A bit too strong’ is all you’re gonna get with Nesta,” Emerie says, lifting her hand to order drinks. “She’s all-or-nothing, and most people would pray she doesn’t give them her nothing.”
Nesta doesn’t know if that’s a compliment, but she supposes there are worse things that could be said about her.
“So, Gwyn, what do you do?” Emerie leans forward. “All our friends are law students and it’s starting to get boring.”
Gwyn goes off about her librarian job as Nesta orders their drinks, and Emerie rests her chin in her hand and listens eagerly. Christmas music plays softly in the background and snow flurries gently outside. Nesta thinks she can’t be doing that bad in life, if she’s managed to carve out this little slice of happiness for herself.
***
a/n: i promise shit actually happens next chapter! we're getting christmas with nessian and the ic in the same room for the first time
taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson
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blxetsi · 3 years
Note
so,, your requests are open, huh?😫😫 like, imagine this ; y/n discovers her family has died, causing them to be all sad and trying to find a way numb all the pain. finding an alcohol, y/n gets *totally* drunk in their own room and it's hange, who finds them on the bathroom floor in pain sobbing and crying, as they help y/n to hold their hair back, while they throw up and then get them to bed, where they end up cuddling hange for comfort or something like that- of course if you're not comfortbale writing this, it's totally alright and i understand! stay safe and have a nice day <33
no bc ive been thinking abt this ask since i got it 🤩 so sorry im getting back to u so late babby 😔💔
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promise
hange zoe x gn!reader (or maybe female idk u decide)
warnings: death, grieving, drunk thoughts, WARNING UHHH when i wrote this i literally forgot abt the armoured/colossal titan reveal so lets just assume that never happened in this. teehee !
not proofread but when have i ever done that 🤨⁉️
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when you first became a scout, you never expected your job to affect your family.
your family was normal, there wasn't ever any abnormality with it. you all lived normal lives with normal relationships and normal jobs. it was boring at times, but that feeling of boredom quickly became one of safety once you joined the survey corps.
the small memories you had with your family during holidays, and the mementos you've kept safe from letters, hidden away under your pillow will be the only things bringing you that feeling of safety again. but it still wont be the same.
you grew up in ragako village, with marie, your step mother and joseph your father, and your little brother marcus. your biological mother, winnie, died when you were three, and marie was the closest thing to a maternal figure that you had. she may not have been your "real" mom, but she was your mother nonetheless, and you loved her so dearly. you'd give anything to feel her warm hands rub your back when you're sad, or her soft lips to kiss your nose.
your brother was such a playful little thing. he always had a trick up his sleeve, a joke to play on anyone. all he ever wanted was to make people laugh, even if it meant having people laugh at him. he once told you late at night, after your father had told him he needed to take his learning seriously, that he wanted to be a clown when he grew up. you dont know why he wanted to go into such degrading work, especially when he was a very curious and hardworking kid, but you realized that putting on makeup and singing songs for kids was the only thing he could think of that would bring joy to others. you would miss the way he would make fun of the people who made you sad, just to see you giggle with tears running down your face, you would miss the funny faces he would throw at you when you two chopped wood, or the hugs of appreciation he would give you after helping him perfect his spelling on homework.
your dad, joseph, was a very serious man. he was so sad when your mother died, and even though you were so young you wondered if he would ever be happy again. you're glad he was, he loved marie, he would laugh and dance and hold her and kiss her the exact same way he did to winnie. joseph was a man who devoted himself to his family, who prided himself in his hardwork and someone who wanted the best for his kids. he was stern when it came to your education, because he had never taken it seriously when he was young. although things worked out for him in the long run, he had heard too many stories of other folks who didnt, who became dirt poor and homeless. he never wanted that to happen to his kids, he wanted them to be independent, to have drive, and he wanted them to safe with a roof over their heads. you'd miss it when he would take you to see your mothers' grave. rain or shine, whenever you wanted he would always walk with you to the graveyard. even if you said "im old enough to walk alone, im not a kid anymore !" he would insist that he had to take you. "even if you just miss her," he would say "if you need a shoulder to cry on, or a hug, i have to be there just incase." sometimes you regret leaving in the night to become a cadet. you would miss his vegetable stew, you would miss his deep raspy voice singing old folk songs hes heard. you would miss the way he would kiss the top of your head, and rub the stubble on his face on your cheeks to tease you.
you would miss everything about them, the good and the bad.
when titans mysteriously appeared, the survey corps was tasked with not only killing them, but warning nearby villages of the danger. you were tasked with defending wall rose alongside the garrison unit. you knew connie springer, as well as other soldiers from the 104th had been sent to warn the villages.
you remember meeting the cadets, and overhearing a conversation springer had with his friends, braus and kirschtein, about a letter his mom had sent him from his hometown.
"you're from ragako too ? small world !"
yeah it was a small world.
you didnt get back to base until late, but you knew once you got there you needed to find connie. you needed to know your family was okay.
you remember the stupid look he wore on his face, how he ducked his head down to dodge your gaze. the way his hands shook at his side.
"are they okay ? did you help evacuate them all safely ?"
connie shoved his hands in his pockets, shaking his head slightly. "i- i don't-"
that answer only made you more worried. you put your hands on the boy's shoulders as you yelled at him. "springer ! say something !" you pleaded. you wanted the people of ragako to be safe, you wanted your family to be safe, but you think you already knew the answer to your own question.
you were about to say something else, another yell for him to speak up, maybe a quip about you being his superior, but it all died down before it even came out, when you felt a warm hand on your own.
you knew who it belonged to before you even looked. hange.
the section commander looked at you with pity and regret in their eyes. "l/n, drop it for now."
thats what hurt the most. never once had hange ever used your last name when addressing you. it was always your first name, and in the privacy of their office (or bed) it was always a soft whisper of sweetheart.
you felt your eyes burn up as they became glossy, the burn in your throat and the way your cheeks heated up with the way you were trying not to sob.
"they're dead aren't they ?" you asked, and although the question was directed to connie, your eyes couldn't leave hange's.
connie's shoulders shook, and he shook his head no, unable to speak.
you felt like you were being betrayed in some weird way, but you didn't know by who. you ripped your hands off of the kids shoulders, the hand that hange held suddenly feeling cold and proceeded to walk away.
hange watched as you walked down the hallway, continuosly wiping your eyes to keep from crying. the soldier adjusted their glasses, making a mental note to check up on you later, before guiding the boy into erwin smith's office.
hours later, you were drunk in hange's bathroom after stealing a bottle of liquor from under clover's bed. it was cheep, but it got the job done, and if you're being honest clover had a drinking problem anyways, she could deal with no alcohol for a night. if anything you were doing her a favour.
you sighed, your body felt sluggish and your mind felt wrong. you were thinking all of the right and wrong things at the same time. inner turmoil consumed you while flashes of memories from childhood interrupted your thoughts.
how did they die ? thats what you wanna know. the short answer: titans, that much has to be obvious, but maybe they died inside, maybe debris fell on them caused by titans running into buildings, maybe they got trampled on by other people fleeing or horses. you wanted, no, needed to hear the gory details. you needed to know how your family suffered, since its already obvious that they did.
whats the point.
you thought you joined the survey corps to keep your family alive, to keep other families alive.
you wanted to protect others.
hell, you wanted to save the world.
you wished you were there. with them. maybe they didnt die immediately, maybe you couldve tended to their wounds, or at least held them before they left this world.
marcus. he always wanted to make people smile. was he smiling in the end ?
did your dad try and protect his wife and son until his dying breath ?
did your mom try and console herself and her family as destruction raged around them ?
were they in heaven now ?
what were you gonna do now.
maybe you shouldve never left for the survey corps. you shouldnt have left in the middle of the night, only leaving a note telling your family you were pursuing a pipe dream called freedom. you couldve stayed, gotten a job making pottery or become a school teacher. your life could have been mundane and normal and boring instead of filled with death horror and trauma.
why did you choose this path ? why did you choose this life ?
you were always so sure that this is where you belonged, but now, not so much.
i guess thats what happens when your family fucking dies. you start questioning your entire life.
hange wasnt stupid. they knew you were up to no good.
first it was when they stopped by the dorms, trying to find you, only to find a girl by the name of clover, gossiping with other cadets about stolen booze. the woman quickly snapped her mouth shut when she saw the section commander walking up to them. when the group was asked "wheres y/n" everyone's answer was the same. "i dont know."
they then moved to their office, hoping that maybe you were waiting there for them. knowing youd make a fuss out of the use of "l/n" during your last conversation, hange practiced an apology in their head before stopping at their door, that was cracked open.
how the hell did you get in ? oh yeah, the key that hange gave you for "urgent work." meaning late night booty calls.
the stolen alcohol, and the section commander's door being unlocked ? you wanted a private place to drink your sorrows.
it makes sense now.
they opened the door the rest of the way, peaking inside to see it left the way it was. an organized mess left by zoe hange themself. closing the door, they felt your key still stuck inside the handle, before pulling it out and keeping it safe in their pocket.
silence. hange made hurried steps throughout this room and the next, opening the door to their bedroom, only to see it left the way it was this morning, with old clothes strewn around and an unmade bed. finally, their gaze landed upon the bathroom door, and could see a faint light from under it.
the brunette slowly made their way until they stood in front of the closed door before knocking.
"you called me l/n." you said, your voice muffled by the wooden barrier.
hange let out a breath of air through their nose. "im sorry." a beat passed, no one said anything. "are you okay ?"
you sighed. you felt as though your body was moving on your own, like you were watching a movie on a screen. this body felt like jelly, like it wasnt yours. your head felt foggy and your throat was dry, your tummy hurt from all of the alcohol you had consumed. you reached up and tugged on the handle until the door opened, making way for you to see hange's face looking down on you.
they wordlessly came inside, slowly sliding down the wall until their butt made contact with the floor. the section commander said nothing as they watched you play with the almost empty bottle of liquor.
"how did they die ?" your question came soft, like a child was asking it.
after that meeting with erwin and connie, hange wasnt sure they should tell you, either because of protocol or because of your mental state.
a few moments passed, and you took a glance at hange just to find them staring at you.
"i cant tell you that." they whispered.
you nodded, looking back to the bottle that sat in between your legs. "will you tell me anyways ?" you asked, your voice shaking.
hange sighed and looked away, before readjusting their glasses. "you know i," they paused. "you know i cant tell you confidential information just because we're fucking."
you nodded. "are we just fucking ?" you asked.
the brunette sighed again. "you're drunk."
"don't change the subject."
"you know i don't have time for relationships right now-"
"but you feel something." you looked up at them, and even though your eyes were red and you had bags under them, even though your lips had formed into a pout, even with your furrowed eye brows and oily skin you still looked so gorgeous to them. "you do feel something right ?"
hange shook their head. "even if i do, im not going to jeopardize my rank and career to tell you something im not supposed to."
it was silent for a while, yet you thought you could still her their voice echoing against the walls of the tiny space.
"i've never once asked you or tried to manipulate you into doing anything for me because of your rank. all i'm asking is for you to tell me how my fucking family died. i'll never ask for anything from you again ever. i'll even stop talking to you altogether if that's what you want so please, please just tell me the truth."
you sat with your hands in your lap, playing with the zipper of your pants. the bottle sat in front of you on the tiled floor, taunting you in some way you didn't understand. you heard hange shuffle around until their thigh touched yours.
"they got turned into titans. we don't know how, but now we think that all of the titans we've encountered, were originally human."
what.
you felt your blood run cold. it was like the movie stopped, you were back to reality. in this body, in this life, with your sore head, and rough throat and weak body and your stomach aching-
speaking of aching, you really had to throw up.
quickly you passed the bottled to hange so you wouldn't spill, before crawling the short way to the toilet. you heard hange come up behind you before grabbing your hair and rubbing your back. you dry heaved and sobbed all at the same time, while hange shushed you.
"it's okay sweetheart, just let it out. shh, i know baby, take deep breaths for me okay ? that's it, there we go." they whispered. the deepness of their voice calmed you, and weirdly, you hoped this moment wouldn't end.
after a couple more minutes throwing up bile and alcohol into the toilet, you calmed down a bit to be able to be pulled off. you leaned against the bathtub as hange left the room, hearing them fumble around the bedroom and then office looking for something.
just as you were done wiping the tears from your eyes, hange came in holding a water bottle. "it's from a day ago, but its still almost full. you need to keep hydrated sweetheart."
the brunette handed you the bottle before crouching in front of you, hands on your knees as they watched you take gulp after gulp of the warm water as if it was the most wonderful thing in the world.
"there we go, my dear."
everything else felt like a blur as hange pulled you up before leading you to their bedroom. you felt them sit you down on the bed before undoing all of your straps and your belt, pulling you up to take off your boots and pants for you, as well as your jacket and shirt and socks. you were stripped down to your underwear as they led you to lay down, the world spinning when you hit your head on the pillow. they pulled up the covers on your almost naked form, before taking off their own clothes and retiring for the night.
laying in bed with hange, in a way that wasn't sexual, although it had been done before this time was different. maybe it was the effects of the liquor, or maybe it was the somewhat sweet confession hange gave you that night, that made your heart hammer in your chest. your legs shook slightly and you felt so light. "im in love with you zoe." you whispered.
after a couple beats of silence you assumed they were sleeping, which was maybe for the best since you werent thinking clearly.
"i love you too." the confession came out so soft you could've missed it, you would have if you weren't waiting for a response. you turned on your side to look at hange, who's glasses had been taken off and hair was down.
"but i don't know if i can-"
you immediately shushed them, shuffling forward until your body was pressed against theirs, bare chests touching and you could feel just how warm they were all over. "be with me."
their arms came to wrap around you, caging you in their hold. "i don't know if i can, i mean what if something happens out there. to either of us ?" they asked.
you pondered it in your head. how should you respond ? they had a right to be worried about this, people died everyday in this line of work. but you wanted them. you're so selfish you want all of them.
"thats an important question, but one that will remain unanswered until it actually happens. i want you. im in love with you. so be with me hange." you said, grabbing their face in your hands, pulling them closer until your nosed were touching.
the older officer sighed again. "what if i cant make enough time for you-"
"as long as we love each other we'll always have enough time." you whispered, your lips ghosting over theirs.
as if they had a thought of "fuck it" their lips crashed onto yours, it was a rough and messy kiss filled with spit and tongue and teeth. it was an overdue kiss, of desperation, love, fear, and everything in between. this kiss was a promise to you.
and it was a promise you would keep until you died.
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uhh i literally wanted to add more but its almost 4:30 and i can hear the birds chirping outside 😔💔 goodnight my friends also REQUESTS OPEN 😋‼️‼️
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Text
Humans are Space Orcs, “I Have Seen.”
Wrote something easy and more similar to my original stories today. I hope you like it. 
I have been thinking about taking a couple days off from writing these stories, since I have been working non stop on this and the book for over a year now, so I am considering taking a break for about a week so I don’t burn out. I haven’t decided yet, so we shall see, but I hope you all have a great day.
I have a job no one knows about.
I don’t think anyone would be surprised if they heard about my job. I don’t even think they would care all that much.
None of this explains why my work station is in the basement of a nondescript government bunker on a death planet…. A!36. I can’t explain why I need three codes to get into my office, or why I go through five locked doors, or why I am not allowed to tell anyone what I do on pain of termination and imprisonment. 
You would assume, perhaps that I am a spy, and involved in some covert cloak and dagger espionage against other species and nations: you would be wrong.
You might assume I am a weapons developer, but you would also be wrong.
Perhaps you think I spend my time wire-tapping on important calls between species and recording important information.
None of this is really the case.
In fact, what I do is quite safe and relatively simple, plenty of other non-humans are doing it of their own accord and plenty more humans do it on a regular basis. What I do is not illegal, it is not espionage, it wouldn’t even phase you.
If that is the case.
Why do so many of my coworkers go missing?
Why are there absent desks every few months?
Why can I not make any lasting friends?
Management always give excuses to those of us who are left.
They left for mental health reasons.
THey moved on to a different job.
They are moving up in the company.
They had to be let go.
All things generic and all things that wouldn’t generally raise suspicion… unless they happen so frequently as us.
You may be wondering at this point, what it is I do for a job.
Perhaps, you think, it is very boring and unfulfilling that I would go insane from sheer boredom.
No, I actually find my job quite interesting.
Perhaps you think my job forces me to watch very disturbing and violent things…. And I suppose that could be close to the truth, though no one forces us to watch the videos if we don’t want, and no one makes us read the material if we cannot handle it. In fact, there are those of us who specialize in that sort of thing.
I do.
I am a specialist in historical xenopsychology.
I study human history.
When I say that I study human history, I do not mean as in a passing fancy. I do not simply read their school children’s textbooks and accept everything I see as truth, no, every day , I come into work and it is my job, to learn about everything that has ever happened in human history, to the best of my ability.
It is my job to know the good, the bad, the ugly, and the monstrous.
I work from day to night, cataloguing and filling my brain with all the information I can before recording it as a lecture on aura drives, which are then stored away for future use in a deep backup system under the surface of this planet.
I have followed human history since the beginning of time.
And I have marveled at it.
Much of my research is flawed, I know. Human history has always been biased, history being shaped and molded by the winners of conflict. Much of what else I know stems primarily from scholarly work humans have done on their own species, looking back the centuries and making assumptions about what they were doing.
While this is a good insite -- humans trying to explain the behavior of other humans-- it isn’t necessarily correct.
For this reason, it is my job to study every piece of information that comes across my desk.
Due to a government agreement between the galactic assembly and the United Nations of Earth, I was given access to the rebuilt library of Alexandria and all of its electronic files which include photos and information on the original documents that they keep in sealed vaults below the library.
I have read every account of human history, and every second hand interpretation of human history that I could possibly find in my time working here.
I have read Darwin and his early theory regarding evolution. I have examined his evidence, which include images and diagrams of the human body spanning centuries. My determinations were made just the same as the rest of them. Humanity was a tree-living species that found its evolutionary niche through walking and the use of opposable thumbs.
This ability to walk, in tandem with the use of hands eventually gave rise to the slow swelling of the brain in comparison to other animals. Human evolved primitive tools, and even more primitive religions, societies and rules.
They developed art early on, painting on the walls of their caves, in the darkness of night surrounded by their fires.
I have read about their befriending of animals in that same darkness. Man’s slow molding of the wolf into the dog - a species designed specifically for the needs of man.
I have attempted to read every account of every atrocity ever inflicted on humanity.
I have read of wars, and battles, Marathon, Thermopylae, Kadesh, D-day, Vietnam, Korea, Russo-Japanese, World wars I, II, III,  and IV and the Panasian War. 
I have witnessed in images and first hand accounts the chilling discoveries of natural disasters gone back thousands of years. Pompeii, Mt. St Helens, Katrina, Tsunamis, earthquakes, the fire of london, 1887 yellow river flood, the 3130 California earthquake, and Haiti earthquakes. 
And I have studied and witnessed every atrocity man has ever committed on its own people. The Mongol hordes, the crusades, Mayan and Aztec sacrifices, The Armenian genocide, the Holocaust, mustard gas, 9/11, slavery in the America, the Trail of Tears, The Bataan Death March, the Berlin wall, Civil war, the French revolution, Nanjing, Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
I tore a hole in humanity and looked inside to see your rot. 
I study the maggots that crawl under your skin.
Don’t confuse me with someone who fears you, or is even disgusted by you. You have committed thousands of horrors, yes this is true. But humanity is not a polished gem, it is an uncut stone marred by dirt and debris, but beautiful in a way that can hardly be explained.
You scrub away the rot only to find more underneath, yet you continue to scrub, in a futile attempt to better yourselves.
It is a beautiful thing if not in vain.
I do not judge you for your crimes because I have also seen your achievements. I watched you survive  the dark ages, I learned your philosophy from the greek world which brought the beauty of democracy and equity in later forms. I watched the enlightenment of the Renaissance, and have seen your beautiful artwork from each period of time. 
I have witnessed your great nations and empires rise and fall, Assyria, Byzantine, Rome, Britain, Egypt, Mongole, Aztek, Soviet Union, The chinese Dynasties and the Communist parties. The United States, and the Asian Co-Prosperity Collective
I have seen your bravery and your loss.
I have learned about the good that walks your earth.
Humans who stood up to tyrants.
I have even examined your stories of creation, of deities who molded humans from clay or dust, watched your world come into form in seven days, or ride on the backs of giant animals. I have seen the gods gift you with fire and learned the teaching of your martyrs over the centuries. Men and women slain and stoned or pulled away by spirits. I have learned of crucifixion, death and rebirth as well as reincarnation and a return to the very fabric of the universe itself.
I see everything.
I see everything. I see it all in my dreams laid out before me like a tapestry following each woven thread through the ages. I thought if I looked back, I could know as much as I possibly could. If I dug deep enough, I would be able to see your secrets.
And I have discovered you.
I see you hiding in there.
I know what you are.
Come out, come out.
And I won’t stop until it is all over and your cities crumbled into dust and bone.
I am being called into my manager’s office. Perhaps I too am ready to go up in the company.
...
I will be back soon…
Deus 
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ofcowardiceandkings · 3 years
Note
I think you mentioned listening to podcasts? Do you have any favorites to reccommend? I've run out of content :(
that i do !
im not entirely sure what kind of podcast you'd be interested in but i'll throw out a few of the goodies in my huge library of stuff , i'll miss out a few of the HUGE podcasts that have been all over tumblr though
a LOT of it is true crime or human interest stuff , or history because im nerd ,, and a few of these dont have nearly enough attention so [shrug] i'll try to keep this short i guess lol this isnt EVERYTHING ive got in my library or listened series' by any measure
i AM gonna pop a shout to both Stuff You Missed in History Class and Stuff You Should Know from iHeartRadio because their HUGE archives have kept me from losing my mind many times over , and they cover a wide range of both important and wacky topics
BomBARDed (ongoing) this is the only fiction podcast i have happening right now really but its DAMN GOOD ONE .... it's an actual-play D&D 5E podcast in the DMs own musically-inspired world, focussed on a group of multiclass bards going to music school !! and all players (+DM) are members of the Texas band Lindby !! and they actually use and play music in the show with one original song an episode !! Kyle's worldbuilding and storycraft are truly incredible, and (Nick) Goodrich, (also Nick) Spurrier, and Ali's characters are in depth and interesting as well as an absolute powerhouse :') i actually made a piece for its first fanzine, Bardic Dreaming, which published earlier this year and is free to view now, all the players and the community are super wholesome its just very good overall 💙
History & Humans;
Fall of Civilisations (ongoing) legit one of my favourite podcast finds, im so glad my youtube autoplayed one of these ... it took me like 2 hours to realise it was 1) not the same as what was playing before and 2) had been on for 2 hours and wasnt near finished lmao. anyway, this is a series by historical fiction writer Paul Cooper, and is honest to all thats good one of the best documentary series ive encountered in years - and ive consumed a LOT of documentaries. it covered the downfall of various civilisations through history, and the episodes run from an hour to FOUR hours depending on the topic. its so chill to listen to and just get done, but over the pandemic all of the episodes have been given full movie-quality video versions too on youtube if youre more of a visual person.
Casting Lots: A Survival Cannibalism Podcast (on series break) yeah that says that lol ... its a SUPER niche topic but its very interesting and treated very well despite being kind of comical at times, the hosts are just naturally funny lol ... it delves around from the history of cannibalism in whole regions to specific incidents as recently as the 1970s, and of course the first episode is about the Donner Party, and it covers things ive never heard of despite being kind of important ?? anyway Alix and Carmella are good eggs
Sawbones (ongoing) i probably dont need to mention much here other than say that Justin and Sydnee saved me from being SO BORED sooo often, the history of medicine is wacky as hell and its what most of my history GCSE was on so [shrugs]
Cautionary Tales (on series break) this was a wild-card find lol ... it's by Tim Harford "the undercover economist" who writes for the Financial Times, and its topics kind of weave modern topics and science with how to learn from historical errors ... its a bit weird but well worth a go, also each series has a few celebrity guest voice actors which is pretty awesome
Ephemeral (ongoing) this is a very strange but thought provoking series about sounds and other things just barely saved. topics include the last castrato, the hello girls, hand-stamped records, the spread of kīkā kila music, and acoustic fossils of wild places.
Neat! The Boozecast (ongoing) history and bartending whats not to like lol ... hosted by Teylor Smirl and now their dad Tommy, they're just digging around in how important booze is to human culture
True Crime (white collar and weirdness);
Swindled (ongoing) this is an amazing show full stop. A Concerned Citizen details some of the most impactful and unruly things to happen in white collar and corporate crime. very factually accurate but given the sheer bullshit of the topics the deadpan snarking is [chefs kiss] absolutely warranted ..
American Scandal (on series break) this one is a series within a series type, and spends a few episodes at a time poking holes in some of America's biggest scandals, from a dramatised but fact-based point of view. such as what the hell was going on with Enron, how big tobacco was forced to own up to covering its own ass, how Iran-Contra happened, etc. it also now has a sister show called British Scandal, which does the same thing for British cases but with a slightly different format.
Missing in Alaska (finished) this was a fascinating series, a deep dive into what happened to two US government officials who disappeared on a small chartered flight in Alaska in 1972. it goes some really strange places, but it actually turned up a lot of previously unknown information through the audience. John Walczak's new series in a new feed is Missing on 9/11 which looks into what happened to Dr Sneha Philip.
Pretend (ongoing) Host Javier Leiva holds interviews with anyone living a lie, or who have been touched by them. con artists, snake oil salesmen, former cult members, catfishing victims, anyone and everyone.
Power: The Maxwells (finished) hosted by journalist Tara Palmeri, the story of media tycoon Robert Maxwell from nothing to empire to mysterious death and the scandals uncovered after he was gone.
Lets Talk About Sects (ongoing) Sarah Steele covering cults from around the world, in particular those in Australia - where she is from. She often has former members on the show to share their stories, and share knowledge of how they left. each story has the relevant content warnings at the start of each episode.
Brainwashed (finished) investigation of the CIA's covert mind control experiments, centred on the experiments performed at a hospital in Montreal, and its cultural impact.
Dr Death (2 series finished) two series investigating huge cases of fraud and medical malpractice, and how they were brought to a stop. series 1 covers Dr Duntsch and his horribly butchered neurosurgery, series 2 covers Dr Fata and his fraudulent cancer clinic
The Immaculate Deception (finished) untangling the weird and disturbing fertility fraud of Dr Jan Karbaat, who fathered children himself through his fertility clinic, and the impact of his deception. later episodes also touch on other similar cases.
True Crime (Violent/General);
The Casual Criminalist (ongoing) Simon Whistler of-the-many-youtube-channels cold reads a script about the case of the day, with some of his daft commentary thrown in.
Southern Fried True Crime (ongoing) Crimes from the American South hosted by Erica Kelley, she puts all the facts out there but refreshingly for true crime she doesnt hesitate to tell you if she thinks someone is human garbage lol
They Walk Among Us (ongoing) probably one of the most popular UK crime podcasts, very measured and well put together, not weird or annoying about it either.
All Crime No Cattle (ongoing, feed slowed down for now) specifically about crimes from Texas, hosted by Erin and Shay, they're very sensitive hosts and a lot of the cases they cover shed light on why the Texas criminal system is how it is or show an impact at a national level
Canadian True Crime (ongoing) Canadian crime from an Aussie who's lived there for a decade, Kristi is again a sensitive and measured host covering some important topics
True Crime (Violent/Deep Dive);
Hitman (finished) journalist Jasmyn Morris digs around in the sticky tangle around a book published by fringe publisher Paladin Press, and its apparent use as a blueprint in the killing of a mother, her friend and her 8 year old boy for financial gain.
Camp Hell: Anneewakee (ongoing) this series is exploring how a wilderness camp "correctional facility" was endorsed by the Georgia care and juvenile reform system, despite widespread abuses and shady practices the whole time. warning for csa and child cruelty throughout.
True Crime Bullshit (on series break) this one is a huge huge rabbithole but a very interesting one where the host Josh Hallmark has spent years digging into the life and potential crimes of Israel Keyes. Keyes is often mentioned as a serial killer with no pattern, but in picking it apart thats not quite true, and has sparked some re-evaluations of missing persons cases and stumbling upon information the FBI has redacted organically. there's also a series in the middle looking into the crimes of Kelly Cochran
Forgotten: Women of Juárez (finished) this series looks into the huge numbers of missing women of Ciudad Juárez, the strange circumstances surrounding them, and the potential cover-ups and corruptions on both sides of the border, trying to give a voice to all of the forgotten women and girls and their families without answers. the series itself is finished, but a spanish language edition is being released every week now.
aaaaaand i'll call it there before i list everything lol, i hope you find something to plug your boredom hole with !!
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youngbeanpole · 3 years
Text
A message from BP’s mail-lady
hoo boy here we go. this is gonna be a long post.
hi! im lemon, and i started this blog on april 2nd 2012. and today, april 22nd 2021, im posting beanpole’s last message here. its been one hell of a ride.
how it all started i was 15, spending time on tumblr, when i suddenly started seeing people posting about this movie that was about to be released soon, called the lorax. now, im not american, so i had never really heard of dr seuss, but people were so enthusiastic! so i watched a shitty cam-rip of the movie and joined the fandom. 
and then the askblogs started, the first one i came across being swag, of course. i had run askblogs for other fandoms before, so i wanted to join in on the fun. but regular once-ler was already taken... and green suit once-lers, and audrey and ted too... so i had to come up with something original. 
the movie started with the once-ler leaving home and his family showing just how awful they were, and i started thinking, ‘man, his childhood mustve sucked..’ ‘haha what if i made a blog about once-ler when he was my age?’ 
an impulse decision that somehow gained me 100 followers in a week. somehow relatable tumblr teen once-ler was relatable to 2012 tumblr. who couldve known? 
i get kinda emotional looking back at it, honestly. people were so fun and creative. id stay up late to keep talking to people (bc timezones are hell). and i had a lot of fun just pretending to be a flawed boy, one who seemed nice but could be rather snarky, who would lie and break promises at the drop of a hat, but only because he didnt know any better, not out of malice. and i couldnt have done it without you all. i never wouldve known that he hates tomatoes, or likes celine dion, or wears the same thneed every dang day just because that happened to be his icon. 
was it silly to get obsessed with a childrens movie? maybe. but i had a great time.  (im also happy to see there are still people in the fandom that are carrying on the legacy... you guys rock)
truffula flu i think most people that remember bp remember him from truffula flu’s camp entre, over at youngbeansprout... a blog ive sadly lost the password to. im a big baby so i never thought id enjoy writing about something as scary as zombies, but i saw my friends doing it so i went in blind, without any idea on a backstory for the au or whatever.  ....which is probably why he wasnt always all that prominent in the story, haha. well, that, and timezones. 
it was probably an even wilder time than running this blog was, because there was actual plot. and people would liveblog it. and make fanart. and cosplay??? someone out there? cosplayed my oc to a convention? its one of those things that make you go. huh. i made something cool. probably never gonna reach that high ever again, but it sure is a fond memory. i still have a folder on my computer with all the fanart and it still brings a smile to my face.
also... i never did get to finish zombie au’s story, but i did plan how it would end. so if youve managed to read this far, congratulations! youve hit the hidden deep lore.
---
so the thing with truffula flu was that entre made the trees fucked up, right? and those spores would turn ppl into zombies. and of course you could become a zombie from being bitten, but it also traveled through the air...
everyone in camp entre (who wasnt immune or already infected) wore a gasmask, a bandana, something to cover their mouth. bp, who wandered into the apocalypse by accident, did not. he didnt even know. 
so little by little, the spores gathered in his lungs, until he realized. oh no. im getting sick. oh no. oh no oh no oh no. he messed around audrey’s equipment to confirm he was infected, and he got scared. he was a scared kid and he was going to die.
except. ted had handed him a cure for safe-keeping. a cure bp had sworn to protect with his life. but it could save him, right? in a moment of cowardice, he uses it on himself... only to find out there never was a cure.  (now heres the part where my memory gets fuzzy but) the ‘’’cure’’’ was given to ted, who was already slightly rotting, meant as a mercy kill. the people who gave him the cure assumed he would use it on himself.
except ted was a good kid, who wanted to use the cure to help others. and beanpole? his lies and broken promises came back to bite him in the ass, and he died sudden and alone. the end. :)
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ANYWAY
the end of an era ive wanted to wrap this blog up for several years now but i never knew how. younger me wanted to give him a happy ending, which back then i thought was getting him a girlfriend. 
but as i got older, i realized... not everything can be fixed with a relationship. he’d have to learn to overcome his flaws by himself, learn his lesson about honesty and sincerity and the dangers of greed. and then, maybe he’ll have a happy ending.
so as he rides into the sunset on this day, imagine. maybe he’ll end up cutting down a forest and regretting it the rest of his life. maybe he’ll become a rock-star. an inventor. a teacher. a gentleman. a cannibal? okay, maybe not that one or maybe he’ll continue traveling forever, singing songs about boredom.
who knows? there’s infinite possibilites out there.
--
and with that, im logging off too. if you ever need me, ill be over on twitter as his deoncelerized self, bean. 
<3
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universitypenguin · 3 years
Text
Response, writing advice
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Hello, @buckycuddlebuddy
We've never interacted on Tumblr before. I'm a new writer on here, and I've enjoyed reading your work. I saw your post and wanted to say that I understand the feeling. At points when I started to develop as a writer, they've usually started because of a feeling like this. Have faith and hang in there!
One point to consider before I start offering advice is: Why is this a problem? If your work is done for your own enjoyment and you want to write the same ideas with different twists, it's not a problem. You like what you like, and that's that. How is writing similar stories different from consuming a bunch of angst fanfiction, or loving hurt/comfort stories? BookTok is full of people who've read hundreds of enemies to lovers plot lines and keep searching for more. Some people will only read a particular subgenre of fiction, such as hard science fiction novels. You might be in a niche. As long as it’s a niche you’re enjoying, repeat away!
But… if there's a sense of boredom for you as a writer, that's a more pressing issue. A tool I've used when I’m stuck writing is this:
Oblique Strategies
This site is by Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt. It's originally designed for working with music in the mixing stage, so occasionally when you hit 'Click here for a new pick,' something musical pops up. I just skip past those. This is useful for helping me find a different direction when I’m not feeling inspired. When I've written something and it's not popping, I'll use Oblique Strategies to come up with a new approach. The fun thing is that you can just keep clicking for new picks until you find something that works.
Another idea is to watch something you normally wouldn't, or read something that's outside of your typical selection. I'm not much for horror but I'll read Steven King and John Ajvide Lindqvist to consume story arcs that are outside of my usual "diet" of literature. Thrillers are great to get you thinking about pace because they have tight plots, and usually have a cast of characters introduced quickly. For visual media, most of my television and movie interest involves contemporary settings, so I look for history and period dramas for a different perspective. The key here is to look at and enjoy things you wouldn't normally seek out.
Along that line, history has a lot of great story arcs. Hannibal's crossing of the Alps has inspired writers and military strategists alike. Arsinoe IV, the sister of Cleopatra, trapped Julius Caesar in the Lighthouse of Alexandria during a battle. The leader of Rome himself had to remove his armor and purple cloak and swim to the safety of a nearby Roman ship. A teenage girl ruined Caesar's invasion, forced him to strip down, jump off a lighthouse and swim to safety. That's badass! And inspiring, right? After reading a tidbit like that, doesn't it open up your imagination to what your characters could do? Maybe, maybe not. But if you keep reading interesting things something will eventually capture your imagination.
When I began to feel stagnant as a writer a few years ago, I read books of writing advice. Doing that helped me a lot and I've definitely grown creatively from the instruction of professional writers. A lot of the books listed are available in PDF form online.
Writing advice titles I’d recommend are:
Plot and Structure - James Scott Bell
Save the Cat Writes a Novel - Jessica Brody
Mastering Plot Twists - Jane K. Cleland
On Writing - Steven King
Remember, when you feel uncomfortable it’s often because you’re doing something other people wouldn’t. You’ve already put your personal creative efforts on the internet and into the public domain. That’s an act of vulnerability and courage. Being uncomfortable is often what forces us to grow. I hope this has been helpful! If anything works for you, let me know!
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bellasweetwriting · 4 years
Text
Memories
Jess Mariano x f.Reader
(not my gif)
Tumblr media
masterlist
requests:  “omg please please PLEASE do a jess mariano x reader with the enemies to lovers prompt that says “ive accepted my feelings now accept yours” i can’t remember the number lol but hope that helps!” -- holiwould
“ okay bet. jess mariano x reader except the reader feels like jess is kinda slipping out of control and away from her and she can’t keep fixing his mistakes and they maybe break up or something? idk ab the ending that up to you ” - holiwould
note: this is a mix between the two requests, the song Miss You by Louis Tomlinson, and When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars. If you haven’t heard them listen to them while you read
warnings: yelling, some trauma, most angst, kissing
word count: 2,3k
He was staring at your picture. Your hair was a little bit shorter than it is now. You were wearing this wine tone of lipstick that the employee of Sephora recommended to you. He remembered that time you kissed his cheek as he said goodbye just for him to walk six blocks with your lips marked on his face,
Damn, he missed you.
He missed your laughter, your suggestions for movie nights that always involved either Brad Pitt or Ryan Gosling. So much you loved them, and he knew that; he was jealous of them even.
Could he drink his memories away? Damn it, he needed to erase you from his thoughts. Everything reminded him of you. Every song on the radio was about you. 
His pride, his ego, his arrogance, caused you to walk away from him the moment he needed you the most. 
"Jess!" You exclaimed as he lifted you up and threw you to the pool, jumping next. "Why did you do that?"
You were both staying at Jess's friend's house after a celebration party for your new book, which was just published. You and Jess went outside to the backyard and walked around the swimming pool when he decided it would be funny to throw you to the water. 
After seeing you battle to get to the surface, he jumped too, holding his laughter until his head was above the water, staring at you with a big cocky smile. 
You threw water and him while you took off your favorite shirt since you didn't want the chemicals of the pool to ruin it. You left it by the side of the swimming pool where just a few seconds ago you were standing unaware that you would end up in the water.
Jess glanced at you, not being able to ignore that your shirt was gone and your bra was visible. He smiled foolishly, not being able to help it. 
"Stop looking at me, you horn dog," you exclaimed laughing, as you splashed him, Jess tossing water back at you. "Was this your master plan? To throw me to the pool in the middle of the night and froze me to death just to see my underwear?" He laughed even louder, and you couldn't help to join him, letting out a giggle. "You have no game, Mariano."
"You look just so darn cute when you are mad, Y/N," he said with that tone of his. His deep voice stumbled in your brain as you sat down on the edge of the swimming pool. He swam quickly in your direction, impulsing himself out of the water and sitting next to her. "Did the cold pass?"
"No, I'm just trying a new blue tone in my lips. Does it suit me?" You sarcastically asked as he stretched his arm and grabbed his jean jacket, covering your shoulders with it. "Oh, what a gentleman. Is this your new move, because I'm falling for it. I want you, I need you. Oh, baby, oh, baby." Jess chuckled as you simply rolled your eyes, putting on Jess's jacket correctly. "Aren't you cold, Cry-Baby Walker?" 
"I've been worst. Those cold nights in New York City, only covered by a blanket and the constant screaming of the adults in the room at the end of the hall, were the coldest nights and roughest nights," he murmured before looking at you. You were shooked as you listened to him, but soonly upset when he started laughing. "You sometimes say a joke and never know if it is trauma until you see the look on people's faces."
"Asshole," you mumbled.
"Pretty," he replied, making you look at him. He slowly leaned in until he was close to your lips before whispering next to them, "I know a way to warm up." And with that, he kissed you gently, running his fingers through your wet hair, instantly warming you up.
"Hey, Jess!" Yelled some guy, grabbing the guy's attention.
Suddenly, he wasn't at that swimming pool anymore. He was at the bar again, filled with these stupid friends he made in this new city. If you saw him right now, you wouldn't even recognize him.
He was wearing a leather jacket and some old jeans, with an edition of The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand on his pocket, a book he wasn't able to finish yet. He had in his hands your photograph next to that old vintage restaurant three blocks away from where you work. You described it as that colorful coffee shop with strawberry smoothies and a cute place to read a book or spend time with people you care about.
"Mariano," his friend called him again, appearing with two glasses of beer and sitting next to the writer. "What are you doing crying over here? We are having a party in your honor, man. It is not an everyday thing that your books get a review on the Washington Post, and make it to the Best-Sellers list. What's up with you?"
"Today is her birthday." His friend looked at him, confused. The clock had just marked midnight. "It's her birthday, and I'm in fucking New York City, getting drunk with people I met three weeks ago and staring at a picture that was taken a year ago."
No matter what this strange guy that he calls friend just to lie at himself to hide that he is, in reality, alone would say. He missed you.
"Don't make so much noise, Mariano!" You yelled at him in a whisper, both of you watching their steps as they enter his apartment. "Your neighbors are trying to sleep."
"I feel so sorry for them already," was the reply you got from Jess as he closed the door behind him and started kissing you, leading your way to the couch. "Who could say that I would be making out little Y/N someday?"
"Did you just call me «little Y/N»?" You questioned, laughing between kisses. "Hey, so I was thinking..."
"Think, no talk," he interrupted you as both of you sat on the couch.
"Wait, it is important," you said again, making him give up and listen to you. "Ok, so tomorrow, as you know, is my birthday..."
"What?" Jess exclaimed. "You never told me it was your birthday tomorrow! Now, I'll have to cancel my plans. Wait a sec..."
You looked at him, confused. Plans?
"Jess, I told you tomorrow was my birthday, like five times. With whom did you make plans tomorrow?"
"Wel, Jack, Fred, and Gabs. We were going out to the movies or some. Let me call Fred and tell him."
"Gabs as in Gabriella? Your ex?" He nodded. "You could've told me."
"Why? She's ancient history, and you aren't my girlfriend."
You quickly stood up, making him look over his cellphone to you. You didn't look happy, you seemed really upset.
"What are we doing here, Jess?"
"What do you mean?"
"For how long have we been hooking up? A month? Six weeks?" He knew where this was going. "At what are we playing here?"
"I don't know. You want to be something serious, I don't understand."
"That is precisely the thing I'm talking about, Jess. You never know anything. You never communicate! You have no idea how to express yourself or even how to treat a person that cares about you."
Jess sighed.
"What do you want from me, Y/N, huh?"
"I want you to care for someone at least once, Jess! I want you to remember things like my birthday or my favorite things or the way I like my coffee because you want to remember; because you care about me. We aren't teenagers anymore, Jess! You are grown enough to know that relationships are built by communication."
The writer quickly stood up, ready to discuss. 
"I care about you, Y/N!"
"No, you don't..." she whispered. "You can't even admit that you like me. That what you feel for me is more than making out because of boredom." He looked over to the big window with the view of Philadelphia. "Your birthday is on March 9th. You tend to forget to carry a pencil with you, and surprisingly, you are always in need of one, so I always carry one in my bag. When you meet someone, you stay extremely quiet while they talk and don't even say goodbye to them when you leave, and I've always told you that that is extremely rude, but you don't listen, you change the subject." 
His eyes met yours, and he noticed the tears that were threatening to leave your eyes. 
"You like french toasts," you continued, "but not with your coffee, so I always serve you orange juice when I make them for breakfast. Your eyes shine every time your uncle calls to tell you that he is doing fine because even if you don't admit it, you love him and appreciate him so much. And I remember all of those little details because I care about you, Jess. Hell, call me idiotic and girl for even thinking that maybe... I'm in love with you. But I'm worth more than this, Jess, I am. And if you can't see it, then it is no my problem. I am done trying just to release I am doing it alone. I've accepted my feelings, now accept yours. Bye, Jess."
And with that, you left.
"Then what are you doing here?" The guy asked Jess, dragging him away from his memories.
"What do you mean?" Jess asked.
"You are clearly not over this chick, you don't want to be in this party even though it is kinda in your honor, and it's her birthday. So, just leave. Go get her.
"How would I be certain she'll receive me with open arms?"
"You don't, man, that's the thing about love: you never know what is going to happen until you take the leap of faith."
He was right. He has always been scared of making the big jump. He has always been insecure about if anyone is going to be waiting to catch him. He couldn't keep making the same mistake over and over, he had to accept his feelings.
"I'm gonna go now. Thanks for the party, man."
Jess Mariano has never been more sure about something that what he was about to do. It was absurd. He was going to drive for an hour and a half in the middle of the night to Philadelphia. Yeah, sounded insane, but everything was about taking that leap of faith he was always scared to make.
But as soon as he hit the road, the doubts and questions hit his head like a train. What was he going to do? How would it end?
He was a writer. Every time he had an idea, the next thing that he knew was how it was going to end. You can't write a story without knowing the ending. But apparently, that was the only way of living it.
While he was driving to Philadelphia, you were sitting on your kitchen island, staring at that red velvet cupcake that held your single birthday candle. You were all alone, the same way you were your last birthday. You couldn't believe a year has passed since the last time you saw him.
You read that his book made the best-sellers list of the week. As soon as you read his name, the memories came back, as they have never left, they were just hiding inside a locked box waiting to come out.
Jess Mariano messed with your life in a way you could have never imagined. You were in love with him, and he never prooved you, he felt the same way with you. Jess wasn't even slipping away from you, you knew Jess always had a footstep out of the door, and you tried to ignore it, but it was almost impossible. Once he was in your life, he was in your life forever.
You blew the little candle, ate your cupcake, and went to sleep, not knowing that two hours later, you'll wake up by the sound of the doorbell. Who could be at two am in the morning? Your friends were going to come to prepare you breakfast, but a seven-hours head start was too much, even for them. 
"What's going on?" You sleepily asked as you opened the door, looking at Jess standing there. "Mariano? What are you doing here?"
"Your headaches are provoked by strong smells. You ran away from home at 18, but I've seen you call your parents from now and then to check on them. Your eyes light up at the mention of sugar. You have this Victoria Secret perfume that you stole from your aunt, and you never used it, you just like to spray it on the air and inhale it, because she smelled like that and you miss her. You used to be addicted to gum, so much that your mom had prohibited you from ever buying it. You love watching people renovate their houses on HGTV, and you make plans on how you are going to remodel your place. You love strawberries covered in chocolate, and you cry at the movies. And I remember all of these, even if it has been a year because I care about you, Y/N. And I couldn't say it back then because I was scared, but now I'm not. Now, I am the guy for you. I know how much you are worth it, I knew since the day I met you." He took a deep breath. "Please, Y/N, let me prove it to you that I can be the guy you need."
What would you say if Jess Mariano was standing in your doorstep, begging for a second chance? I'm honestly asking.
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jbird-the-manwich · 4 years
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this may be a weird, dumbfuck ask to ask YOU but i need some reassurance. does magic actually works? curses? have you ever saw obvious, tangible results in all of your years of practice? i have an awful time believing in my own magic, in my own practice, and it fucking sucks because theres SO much i want to do but i fear that if i do just one spell and it fails i'm just. going to lose hope. hope i'm not bothering you. thanks.
its no bother - but yeah, tangible results are pretty much the entire reason i practice it. ive cursed a guy and watched from the sidelines as his dental fillings fell out, he totaled two cars, broke an arm, and ended up on the local news being pursued by police. ive done one off wishing spells and consistently get what I ask for, ive sat in my best friends car in the grocers parking lot with nothing more than a lighter and a jar of bay leaves and forced her boyfriend to change his mind from a distance about inviting himself to our outings, ive put my friends boss under compulsion to give him a hefty raise and give him the weekend off, ive also borked that same spell and ended up accidentally sowing much anger and enmity in his work place instead, but still with the end result working as (more or less) intended. ive drawn a line in the ground my drunken brother could not cross to interfere with my bonfires, and those are just a few specific cases outside of the usual storm conjuring, divination, and other "magical" things i do just as a matter of necessity to stave off boredom or staleness.
i consider myself a pragmatic person, and if magic didnt give me tangible results, id be using the considerable time and expense of honing those skills for something else. it would only be painful to admit something isnt working if I were too attached to needing it to work to begin with. my advice is dont handle it, like something you need to be true, handle it like an experiment, like a hypothesis to test.
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