#Newborn Screening System

[haykawas]

✩•̩̩͙*˚ MONDAY – GETO SUGURU.

summary : you have five days to ask your hot tattooed boss out. better make it count.

word count : 1.3K tags : tattoo shop owner!suguru, modern au, pining, workplace AU, fem!reader, smoking.

MONDAY – TUESDAY

You nervously bit your lip as you considered going out the threshold, your right hand hovering over the doorknob as your thoughts went haywire. You knew what was behind – or rather, who was –, you knew you had to do something about it because you’d been having a stupid crush on the hot owner of your new workplace for a few months now and you just couldn’t seem to get him out of your system – and yes, it didn’t help that you literally saw him every day. 

But honestly, who could blame you? Heavily tattooed – logical, seeing as he literally owned a tattoo parlor –, pierced, with long black hair and sparkling brown eyes, he surely was everyone’s dream man come true.

You wanted to do it right, go right to him, act cool and mysterious, and subtly ask him out while he smiled sheepishly, cheeks red at your forwardness. 

But you knew you couldn’t, that all of this was in your head. For one, he was absolutely not the type to blush. He was the type to make people blush. Second, Suguru was the most popular one at the shop, and considering you also worked with certified heartbreakers like Satoru and Toji, it was something to say. But how couldn’t he be? He was sweet and charming, a smooth talker. He always had the right words and had to be the most patient man you’d ever met.

And of course, he was also smoking hot. It also didn’t help that all you managed to do when you came in less than a three-meter radius from him was act clumsy and stutter like a newborn learning how to speak. You were definitely aware of the situation. The fact that he was way way out of your league. And you’d have discarded the thought of asking him out if Satoru hadn’t infiltrated your mind and set your heart racing when he’d whispered to you that someone he knew was planning on asking his best friend out this Friday.

“I mean, have you seen the guy?” He’d said, a knowing smirk on his lips, “You have ‘till Friday to make a move, or you’re fucked.”

Today was Monday. 

It was Monday, and of course, you still hadn’t said a single word to him. Sure, you two often found yourselves talking about work, new designs you’d come up with, and you had made sure to come to him every time you needed some advice, – and surprisingly, he’d also started doing so, setting your heart on fire every time he came to you –, but that was it. You two had never hung out together outside of work, even though you often had nights out with the others.

You shook your head and turned the doorknob, deciding you were going to stop acting like a schoolgirl with a stupid crush because it was honestly embarrassing. But then you saw him and immediately went back on your words.

God, he was just so effortlessly perfect. Who were you kidding? You could never stop acting this stupid when he looked like this.

He looked engrossed in a conversation, slender hands busy taping against the screen of his phone, a small grin on his lips, and you immediately considered going back inside. You were cringing inside, wondering what you were thinking coming back there when he was clearly busy.

But superior forces must’ve had other plans for you, because before you could make a hasty retreat inside the shop, your foot caught on a loose cobblestone, causing you to stumble and knock off a stack of empty crates.

You froze, the crates clattering and crashing to the ground. If he hadn’t heard you before, he sure had now. You sighed, lifting your eyes to see him, a cigarette casually hanging from his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he beckoned you over with a nod and an amused smile. You looked left and right to see if he was calling someone else over, but quickly realized there was no one else outside. Your head turned to him, cheeks burning from embarrassment as he chuckled at your action. “Care to join me?” He added with a smile, before taking a long drag out of his burning stick.

You bit your lip and complied, leaning against the wall right next to him, as you tried holding in violent coughs, the smoke hurting your lungs. You were silent and must have been staring at the cigarette he was gracefully holding too intently, because he suddenly held it out to you, “You smoke?”

You melted at the sound of his voice, rich and gentle. And, no. No, you didn’t smoke. You absolutely didn’t and you’d never even wanted to try it.

So you couldn’t understand why the hell you were telling him that yes, you did, that you were an expert at rolling blunts at that, like you’d done this your entire life, when even the fruity smokes from fairs made you sick to your stomach. But… you didn’t want to tell him that no, that you found it repulsive at best. Besides… you kind of wanted to try it, now. See why he loved it so much. It couldn’t be that bad if he did, right?

You weren’t sure about that. But honestly, you didn’t even care if it gave you the chance to stand that close to him and share a moment, as short and insignificant as it may have been, with the man you’d been pining after for a while now.

You accepted the cigarette when he handed it to you, clumsily gripping it between two fingers as you stared at it hesitantly. You didn’t know how you looked right now, but you hoped you came across as at least a quarter as confident as he did. You know you didn’t, because as soon as you took your first drag, you started coughing uncontrollably, the smoke burning your throat as you gasped for fresh air.

“Definitely an expert at this, are you?” He teased, his focused gaze not leaving your form one bit as he took the stick back from your hand to place it between his plush lips. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke in your direction, and his eyes crinkled with amusement as he watched you try not to cough it all out. His lips curled into a playful smile, tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip as he watched your flustered form. You were just so damn cute.

“Don’t worry,” he said, voice lower, “smoking’s not for everyone. I’m sure you must be an… expert, at something else.” He winked, his gaze lingering longer than necessary as he took you in from head to toe before he met your eyes once again.

Your breath caught in your throat at the implication of his words, heart racing as you tried to decipher what he must’ve meant by that. Surely it was innocent.

…Right?

The man suddenly straightened up, his playful demeanor shifting as he glanced at his watch. “Well,” he sighed, “break time’s over for me.” He casually tossed the half-smoked cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his Doc Martens boot.

You nodded at him with a smile, but couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at the prospect of the conversation coming to an end so soon. This was the longest you’d ever found yourself alone with him, and you hadn’t even come close to asking him out. But before you could say a word, he met your eyes with a knowing smile. 

“If you ever want to experience new things, though…” he dragged out, hawk eyes not leaving yours, “you know where to find me.” The suggestion hung in the air long after the door swung shut behind him, and you let yourself slide against the wall of the alley, lightheaded. A few words from his soft lips had been all it took to make you lose your cool.

Oh, you were so fucked.

…And you still hadn’t confessed. Damn you, Suguru Geto.

AN : ok soo i actually haven't posted a fic about any fandom since like 2016/2017 so i'm back to stage 1 lmao. english is not my first language so i may update my posts sometimes to correct things a little too!! plus it hasn't been proofread yet bc it's 1am where i live rn so yeah. this os is actually meant to have followups, so if people like it i'll work on more parts for this (idk if this'll show up in searches since it's a new blog tho but oh weLL) (it was actually meant to be a drabble but i went overboard) (i still had to force myself to stop writing more)

[officialclangen]

CLANGEN: POTATO UPDATE

Clangen has updated! Cat and Sprite Changes: - New sprites for paralyzed, sick/injured, and newborn cats. - Separated vitiligo and points from white patches. It's now possible for a cat to have all three! - New vitiligo patterns: PHANTOM, MOON, and POWDER - New white patch pattern: PETAL - New eye colors: SILVER and BRONZE - New accessories: Nylon Collars (in all colors), and INDIGO and WHITE collars of all types! - New mask-based tortie system! Tortie patches can now be any color/pattern. - New tortie patch patterns: REDTAIL, DELILAH, MINIMALONE, MINIMALTWO, MINIMALTHREE, MINIMALFOUR, OREO, SWOOP, MOTTLED, SIDEMASK, EYEDOT, BANDANA, PACMAN, STREAMSTRIKE, ROBIN, ORIOLE, BRINDLE, and PAIGE. - Rare "Wildcard Torties", which bypass the normal rules for tortie patch color/pattern to allow for wacky combinations. - Smoke pelt colors have been slightly tweaked for consistency. GHOST smoke has been given lighter points. - New separate tint that is applied only to the white patch and point markings. - You can now favorite cats! You can toggle favorite cat indicators on the list and patrol screen. - Pregnancy is now a condition that may prevent cats from patrolling. - EXP limit has been increased, and the EXP levels have been renamed. - Apprentices now graduate based on EXP, rather than age. This can be turned off in settings, if desired. - Cats can now retire any time between 110 - 140 moons. - New prefixes, suffixes, and loner names! - Some prefixes and suffixes are now specific to your biome. - You can now override special rank suffixes for particular cats. - New randomize buttons on the change name screen. - Moved list of possible names to a .json for easier customization in compiled versions. - The code handling relationship events have been rewritten, and new types of relationship events are now possible. Relationship and Moon Events Changes: - New system for accessory moon events, alongside many new accessory events and possible "congratulatory" accessories after a cat gives birth. - There is now more variation in relationship initialization, which allows cats to have more varied relationships with their family. - Lots of new relationship events! - Group relationship events have been added. - Affairs have generally been made more common. - Lots of fun new moon events, including special events for medicine cats and elders with certain skills. Thoughts Overhaul: - Thought code has been reworked to be way more specific. - Cats can now have thoughts based on their status, age, backstory, and even permanent conditions! - This should also have fixed those pesky bugs where cats would think about dead or lost cats as if they were still around. - In light of this update, A TON of new thoughts were added. Other Significant Changes: - New auto-updater! The game will now alert you when a new version is available, and will update without the need to re-download. - New re-designed family page! More family relationships are now shown, and it's easier than ever to browse through a cat's lineage. - Save files are now stored in an OS-specific data directory. You will no longer need to move save files when updating. - Added a button in the settings menu to open the save data location in your file-explorer. - New backgrounds: Shipwreck and Crystal River - Revamped background: Gully - Overlapping cat sprites on the clan page has been reduced. Once two cats are on a single spot, that position is considered "full." - You can now choose the starting season when creating a new clan. - Most backgrounds have unique cat placements. - The appearance of the allegiances page has been changed, and descriptions have been updated to flow better. - On the allegiances page, kits will now be listed with their parent, if they have one. - Lots of new patrol artwork! - New error screen when saves fail to load, which gives more in-depth failure messages. - New custom cursor (it's a little paw!) - Lots of bugfixes and QOL tweaks!

[feminist-space]

"Now, already experiencing the clawing pangs of contractions, she pulled out a frozen pizza and a salad with creamy everything dressing, savoring the hush that fell over the house, the satisfying crunch of the poppy seeds as she ate.

Horton didn’t realize that she would be drug tested before her child’s birth. Or that the poppy seeds in her salad could trigger a positive result on a urine drug screen, the quick test that hospitals often use to check pregnant patients for illicit drugs.

Many common foods and medications — from antacids to blood pressure and cold medicines — can prompt erroneous results.

The morning after Horton delivered her daughter, a nurse told her she had tested positive for opiates. Horton was shocked. She hadn’t requested an epidural or any narcotic pain medication during labor — she didn’t even like taking Advil. “You’re sure it was mine?” she asked the nurse.

If Horton had been tested under different circumstances — for example, if she was a government employee and required to be tested as part of her job — she would have been entitled to a more advanced test and to a review from a specially trained doctor to confirm the initial result.

But as a mother giving birth, Horton had no such protections. The hospital quickly reported her to child welfare, and the next day, a social worker arrived to take baby Halle into protective custody.

...

To report this story, The Marshall Project interviewed dozens of patients, medical providers, toxicologists and other experts, and collected information on more than 50 mothers in 22 states who faced reports and investigations over positive drug tests that were likely wrong. We also pored over thousands of pages of policy documents from every state child welfare agency in the country.

Problems with drug screens are well known, especially in workplace testing. But there’s been little investigation of how easily false positives can occur inside labor and delivery units, and how quickly families can get trapped inside a system of surveillance and punishment.

Hospitals reported women for positive drug tests after they ate everything bagels and lemon poppy seed muffins, or used medications including the acid reducer Zantac, the antidepressant Zoloft and labetalol, one of the most commonly prescribed blood pressure treatments for pregnant women.

After a California mother had a false positive for meth and PCP, authorities took her newborn, then dispatched two sheriff’s deputies to also remove her toddler from her custody, court records show. In New York, hospital administrators refused to retract a child welfare report based on a false positive result, and instead offered the mother counseling for her trauma, according to a recording of the conversation. And when a Pennsylvania woman tested positive for opioids after eating pasta salad, the hearing officer in her case yelled at her to “buck up, get a backbone, and stop crying,” court records show. It took three months to get her newborn back from foster care.

Federal officials have known for decades that urine screens are not reliable. Poppy seeds — which come from the same plant used to make heroin — are so notorious for causing positives for opiates that last year the Department of Defense directed service members to stop eating them. At hospitals, test results often come with warnings about false positives and direct clinicians to confirm the findings with more definitive tests.

Yet state policies and many hospitals tend to treat drug screens as unassailable evidence of illicit use, The Marshall Project found. Hospitals across the country routinely report cases to authorities without ordering confirmation tests or waiting to receive the results."

Read the full piece here: https://www.themarshallproject.org/2024/09/09/drug-test-pregnancy-pennsylvania-california

[decolonize-the-everything]

Hey im assuming you already know about the "callout" post about you being a bot since you changed your url, but they linked to your new one in the comments :/

Is this the one that's like 3 weeks old?

What's wild is when I look up my blog the first result is a video of a young Palestinian boy holding up their phone to the camera to show my blog on their screen to prove they're real. In fact, most of what pops up under my URL are Palestinian accounts needing support who tagged me cuz I have reach.

But I hate Kamala so that means I'm a bot who needs to be removed from the site.

I genuinely fucking hope everyone sharing that post kills themselves. There are a million better ways they can be spending their time (and honestly more valid complaints to make about me) and instead their time is spent trying to get my blog deleted when I already planned on deleting it this year ANYWAY

This is literally why I'm deleting it. I'm sick of Tumblr. It used to be cool and left and anti-capitalist. But then I got pregnant and had a life and when I came back in 2020 Tumblr was full of liberal ass losers who thought buying 40 checkmarks in a row from Tumblr was somehow a dunk on Elon musk. And now tumblr accuses ANYONE further left than a Swiftie girlboss Democrat of being a psyop??? And those posts Actually gain traction????

There is a psyop on this site in my opinion and it's my opinion that it's using fear mongering and paranoia to target leftists and get us deleted.

This is not the same Tumblr I was on in 2012 at all.

People used to be politically involved.

The amount of PowerPoint type educational posts about things like systemic racism or being trans or accepting LGBT people was wild. I remember Gaza trending here in 2014 and that's how I learned about Palestine, my newborn on my arm at the same time. I remember seeing posts being shared that linked vine accounts where you could See what was happening and that proved that the media wasn't covering it correctly, where you could see Actual people on the ground explaining. Radfeminism spread so fast cuz fucking everyone on the site was a feminist who said "fuck men" back then. EVERYONE.

that's another thing, in 2014 if you weren't politically literate you were shamed for it. Like I said there were PowerPoint style posts that allies were making to educate people. Nobody gave a shit about your mental health back then, if you were racist or sexist or homophobic then there was literally no excuse for it. I saw white liberals bully racists off this site, I'd even say that was a normal occurrence. It's honestly part of why radfems are so nasty, their platform was built during an era where it was The Thing to be unapologetically hostile to oppressors.

Because in 2014 Tumblr understood that was the only correct way to treat an oppressor.

In 2024 liberal tumblrinas are targeting me and trying to get removed from the site for *checks notes* saying Kamala should be held accountable for supporting genocide.

.....like I said I planned on deleting this anyway.

[spotsupstuff]

Iterators, of course, aren't made capable of resting. They are here to work.

Even if biological to a degree, the components of the Hiveminds either take careful turns for a shut eye or they work themselves to death from exhaustion. Terrifying-, is Three Sparrows' opinion on that, -but they can't live any differently. Just like moths without mouths or crazed fish fighting against the streams of oceans, that's just how their Cycles are predetermined.

But there's these few rare days... Especially with the newer Iterators- those that are still chugging through life like newborn rain deer fawns, unsure in their existence, a little too vulnerable- when they slow down for a thorough, long debug session.

For the citizens this means a little dimmer day. A little bit of detoxification from screens as nonessential devices shut down or receive far too little power from the hearts of the Iterator. As those beats slow down and the energy that does get generated from them is more focused internally.

For her, as his Mechanic, this means an especially busy couple of days. Anxiety inducing ones, too.

First thing in the morning of the first day, Sparrows sends her charge a question- "how did the debug start up go?"- then remembers that the drama queen that is Caper of Euros does not wish to be bothered to formulate as horrendous things as whole words at this stage, because, in his words: "You don't understand just how *draining* it is to put together syllables in such a state!". So she adds a little unprofessional "doin good?" supplement message right after.

It takes unnaturally long for him to respond (twenty whole seconds!!!) with a singular checkmark. She breathes a sigh of relief and allows herself to go about her day now.

The city of Ales keeps relatively quiet. The typical churn of energy, cogs and thoughts of a behemoth beneath her feet is near silent even in the depths of the inner subway system. The traffic lights blink a little slower, the fake birds overhead sing just that tad bit louder. The children freed from school thanks to the low current bump into her by accident as they chase each other through the city square. Three Sparrows clutches her breakfast, gives the little rascals some mock chase with her fist waving in the air and then she sits down to finally scorf that food down.

First day is the hardest. This one is dedicated to check ups of the hearts, gravity generators and the memory arrays. All of that is functioning at its bare minimum right now and she better make use of that! Less thunderous beats for her body to weather even through the suit specialized for this, less frustrating fights against complete antigravity and less train of thoughts for her to derail by accidentally bumping into the softer bits of his mind.

She won't get to really interact with Euros today- or well... at least he won't be able to respond much to her day's worth of effort like he'd usually do. It's still strange to think of that. Running all around someone's body yet not actually properly interacting. This job forces a person through so many paradigm shifts... It gets exhausting to change one's understanding of simply *being* so many times.

So today she ensures his hearts are without a single scratch. That the Void Fluid trapped inside of the water is still spinning right (that part is always needlessly scary. the Void stuff can't be trusted, no matter how holy the preachers say it is, Three Sparrows on a Wire doesn't give a damn). She checks all the cables and tubes surrounding them, the antigravity generators solely dedicated to only this giant chamber all the while trying to keep her own little heart from panicking at the loud noise.

Manually she visits all the major generators sprinkled through the facility and runs diagnostics on the lesser ones through her watch. She amputates and treats the biological parts of the arrays that need it, tells hi to a sleepy yet determined Inspector that came to check it out, pries neuron flies out of weird places they somehow managed to wedge themselves into and takes a peek into Euros' mental state as per regulations.

She already knows his priority list won't make the demanded norms. Her own name shines at her from the first spot, forcing all too familiar self-blame to bloom in her chest. With a swipe of a finger, the screen disappears. Her final report will have lies in it again, then. Nobody can know.

At 23:11, fifteen hours since the beginning of the work day, Three Sparrows stumbles out of the stuffy biomechanical guts of her boyfriend without popping into the puppet chamber once absolutely destroyed.

"Oh, I always forget how sweet the evening air is. Void below, wow," she says, taking a deep breath before dragging herself home.

Aching limbs force her to skip normal dinner for easier-to-prepare and consume nutritional supplements, but they don't manage to stop her from making it to the daily family call. Or from quietly hacking into Euros' systems afterwards.

There's a spike of panic in the entire Hivemind, according to the live diagnostic program running on her watch and she looks on as his systems reach for the firewalls he unconsciously dropped alongside his damn heart rate (most likely, she has yet to catch the moment when he actually drops them). Three Sparrows can't help but grin to herself a little as she turns off her computer's cloaking *just* before the firewalls reactivate. The recognition of her IP address is instantaneous- telling by the sudden stop of Euros' frantic efforts at self-defense.

At least for a few seconds. Then he's rapidly purging her out and slamming the firewalls back into their place behind her. She barely manages to burst into laughter and her watch already pings with a new message. Message in question? Only reads a singular period.

But oh, those few pixels somehow manage to obtain all the dramatic affront, anger and disbelief a typical Euros rant would have. It only makes her laugh harder.

When she finally wills herself to stop, lest she gets a headache, she replies: "when will you finally remember to *not* become a sitting mouse for hackers during your debugging. you dumbass you!"

Euros replies with another period.

"watch out for yourself, ok? just bc im tots willing to break a guys face in the name of keeping your giant eight legged box butt safe doesnt mean im exactly itching for that kinda situation" "now good luck during the night. i gotta go take a five everything hurts"

Two periods and a second later, a heart.

Sparrows smiles at the screen a little, turns off her computer and climbs into the soft bed sheets.

The next day flies by a little easier. This one is dedicated to check ups of technologies related to production of the biological Hivemind members. There's quite a lot of those scattered through the whole body of Caper of Euros, but at least the hearts are beating a little faster today which means the gravity generators everywhere are stronger and that again means Sparrows gets to call upon an Inspector to hitch a ride with it for the whole day. No solo swimming in 0g this time!

All the production centres end up being more or less perfectly fine. Any damage caused by use is miniscule enough to not matter and be fixed naturally in a matter of days. As it should be with all Iterators out of their test run phases.

A small feeling of pride settles warmly behind her ribs. Another thing she can be almost certain to check off the long long list of her duties as a Mechanic, another Euros' step towards being completely self-dependent and, for the lack of biomechanical term on an Iterator scale, fully mature.

He's progressing despite small hiccups here and there and she couldn't be happier.

Though, one thing she will admit.

As she gives her goodbye to today's guide, Sparrows just can't wait for this day to be over. It won't be admitted aloud, especially where Euros could hear her, but she's starting to painfully miss their usual interactions.

Sure, today her interactions with him were... "closer" than yesterday, but it still wasn't it.

Another dissonance. Even being near something more closer to her level than the entirety of his physical body is not exactly a direct mutual interaction. The Inspector nuzzled to her, held her, clicked at her in some attempts at communication. And it was Euros, but... also just such a small piece of him.

So small, that it almost borders on meaningless. But it hurts to think of anything with such personality and role in the grand scheme of him as meaningless so she quickly shakes that thought out of her head.

It is strange. But she doesn't mind calling the *puppet* meaningless. That thing is what her heart yearns for now, whose embrace she's currently missing- its carmine coloration and big dark lenses are what her eyes are searching for. And still, the cynical and rational part of her dubs that piece useless without an issue.

Because the puppets are useful with their emptiness. The uselessness makes them precious, paradoxically enough.

She's even writing a paper on this subject, questioning if the existence of these masks or decoys- essentially inherent lies- are really so important. So naturally, her thoughts spiral further as she's walking back into his facilities during the third day.

Today is deep puppet chamber maintenance day. A whole day dedicated to the bullshit.

In her paper, Three Sparrows argues that puppets are installed more for the sake of the Anemon population more than the Iterators themselves. In the grand scheme of things, can it be said that these priorities will pay out?

Yes, certainly, there are aspects to puppets that are helpful for the Iterators themselves too. Mainly that the relatively little things are the central focus point of the Hivemind- a means for the entirety of the scattered person to come together and form an Individuality seamlessly.

'But,' she asks, 'isn't That a condition Created by The Puppet's Existence? If We direct Our Attention to the Iterator Inconvenient Sporadic Change, she was known to exist Outside of her Individuality Without Complications! Research shows that she performed just as well if not better in Her Duties than the other Iterators of Her Time Period- which, if I May remind The Reader Kindly, are some Monumental Names. Better output than that of Boreas' Blessing, Orion's Pathway and even The Dedicated Aftertaste of Disdain.

Her Processes proved to be Seamless, Direct, Quicker. Reports are Also Kind Enough to mention the Need for Maintenance- Be it Physical, Psychological or Emotional- was at a sweet Minimum.

If a Puppet of an Iterator Should not be Given, is it Possible that the Hivemind would find a Different, Healthier Way of Coming Together? Of My educated Opinion, I'd dare to Say Yes.

The Consciousness would have the Free Choice of expanding Outwards, to the Limits of the Superstructure, rather than Claustrophobically Inwards. This Change of Procedure would Potentially Result in Absence of These known Disorders that Plague Your Great Gifts to the World:'

Then there is also of course the benefit of pearl reading and printing, but really? Her computer doesn't need a whole person just to burn her a picture, song or some text into the surface of a pearl and then also read it back. This function of the puppets is a weakness if anything. Why not exchange the entire chamber setup for something like a series of pearl readers so they might as well multitask in this, too?

Euros certainly could be reading twenty pearls at once and burning information onto thirty other, for sure. Maybe that would sate his programmed hyperactivity at least a little before he gains access to his predetermined role as a Phone Operator Chief of the Eo group.

The puppets are just a ginormous fumble at optimization of the Iterator blueprint and that's that.

And still...

Three Sparrows climbs through the pipe into Caper of Euros' puppet chamber. This place is like another heart, despite its function being nothing like a real one. A hub of his mind, maybe. An important, precious piece of him, even if those epithets are forced onto it by circumstance.

Her feet hit the floor and the chamber brightens up just that bit to signal at least a piece of his attention is now dedicated to the happenings within the room, but stays deep carmine instead of turning light pink. That signals he's still working, just as she instructed him.

Overseers come and go to take a look at her, some stay to watch her. Understandable, since the puppet is slumped over in the middle of the floor, sitting with its eyes half closed- for once, he is the one frustratingly limited in his ability to interact with her properly even though she's right here.

"Good morning, Caps!" Sparrows cheerfully calls into the more or less empty room, giving the Overseers a quick salute in greeting. They reply with quick spins of their tendrils, the room itself greets her back with a pleased purr. One that she can feel shaking her legs even through the metal soles of her boots as she walks over to today's main point of interest.

Kneeling next to it, she rests a hand over its chest in support. "Alright. As always, we'll get through the detachment sequence and you can go fully back to finishing off the debugging. How close are you to being done?"

Something whirrs and then a projection appears on the wall in front of her of a progress bar. 87%.

"Nice! You are getting faster. Come on now, then."

During a deep maintenance of the puppet, it is advised to nearly fully disconnect it from the rest of the structure. The purpose of that is to give the systems some rest, but also to avoid stressing out or making the Hivemind uncomfortable by sticking a hand into what it perceives as its very personal very own chest.

The first step is for the Hivemind to pull back from the body, to avoid the shock of forceful extraction. Once that is done, the Iterator disconnects the umbilical arm from the back and allows the Mechanic to slowly push it away. Carefulness is needed during this- the arm contains cables and tubes, acting like an umbilical cord for an unborn offspring in some animals.

The baby analogy never fails to make her skin crawl. While Anemons conceive children without such things, it's still so... personal. It stirs unwanted feelings inherent to intelligent organic beings, the need to look after a child. These puppets are like stillborns. Stuck within the womb for the "mother" to use as an extension of its being.

That is not a matter easily pondered.

The next step, after the bundle of crucial cords safely rests on the ground, is to disconnect the umbilical cables from the back of the puppet's head.

One by one, Sparrows disconnects them. And with the last, Euros' puppet goes slack against her hand. Quite unnerving, that. It always makes her heart jump even though she knows better than to worry.

She secures the umbilical cables to the arm and pulls back to take a look at him, both arms supporting his shoulders. The head lolls, eyes still open a little yet unseeing. Something whispers that's not right, so she guides his eyelids closed for him.

...Iterators can't sleep. But the useless piece of Euros looks like he does and suddenly she can't help but feel like this is the most important thing in existence.

The something in her shifts, the something that is yearning, loving, that wants to take care of another and keep him safe from the sharp world outside.

Sparrows caves. Gathers the puppet into her arms, rests his head against her shoulder. The chamber lowly, but sharply whirrs. He's probably annoyed that she has decided to be all cuddly and sweet now when he can't be fully present for it. What little consciousness he can still muster in the puppet presents itself in the tiniest nuzzle of his face into her neck.

Such a small gesture, yet it steals her breath away. She hugs him... it.. closer, cheek presses against his forehead, a hand moves to caress the side of his face.

She marvels at the feeling of holding him. Questions why she is left stumped by an almost empty thing.

He's sleeping, face buried against her neck, says the something- he is awake, just a little drowsy, staring at her with seven eyes across the room, replies reason.

She cradles him in her lap… he's so thin and light, the feeling begs her to keep him safe until he wakes up again, he wouldn't be able to defend himself against a predator-! He holds her in his center, so small and insignificant compared to his mind breaking vastness.. her life span so minute compared to what he is yet to live through. Someone of his caliber wouldn't find a challenge in simply deleting her like a line of code.

'The only thing keeping me truly safe are the taboos woven in their genes,' says the cynical piece of mind, jaded by decades of unkind life and all tired, entertaining the absolute worst of scenarios for the sake of a warning. 'I couldn't be in a safer place than here, at his mercy, in this artificial world where he might as well be a true god,' says the lovesick heart backed up by years of experience, making her arms tighten in a hug.

She caresses his arm, taking a note of the bit too dry skin, created similarly enough to her own to bring comfort of familiarity, only to be snatched away again when there's no softness of flesh beneath.

'That's just a Generation 2 thing,' the knowledgeable mind shrugs it off.

And the more primal worrywart of a heart panics about it as it applies organic understanding of things to it. Remembering the few times Sparrows was allowed to touch Boreas' puppet, the many times Zephyr pulled her against her side for the night. Those are his family members! They are padded with something pliable-

Cushioning of Generation 1 to combat possible gravity generator outages. There's more certainty in the Iterator engineering now, Euros has no need for those. He's better off than either of them. He's safer and, terrifyingly, many times more loved than them.

She sighs, concerned and-

"Sparrows?"

Ah, that seems to be the limit for how long Euros is willing to take the actionless silence. The voice is relatively quiet considering it always echoes through the little room from the speakers seated in the corners of the ceiling. It's kind of sluggish. Not entirely out of the concentration of debugging. The Overseers have come closer.

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Sure you were. Your face went on quite the journey there. Why were you frowning so much?"

She considers. "...dissension of... wants and reality, I guess."

"Well then don't go doing that when I can't feasibly help out. Same with the cuddles I want in on that."

Three Sparrows only rolls her eyes in amusement at that and goes back to work, this time with the Overseers watching her a bit more intently. It's a little uncomfortable, but she can't blame him for worrying when she does so constantly.

Later that day, when the sun hides away, her gaze lingers in random places.

In the kitchen at the table with one chair, one plate and one cup of tea. She stares at the too much space on the couch in the little living room, one toothbrush waiting at the sink, the empty place beside her in the bed.

Perhaps an Iterator puppet isn't the only empty thing in her life.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Hey!! Could you possibly do a Cash Wheeler x reader one where the house of blacks Julia hurts the reader really bad just to get into Cash’s head and they tell him it’s all his fault and Cash, Dax and Daniel have to try to save Cash’s wife.❤️

Saviour

Cash Wheeler X Fem Reader X Malakai Black (word count 3.2K)

An: I have no idea how this happened but this ended up turning into the reader cheating on Cash with Malakai and joining the house of black. I have no idea how but it just happened. 

Summary: House of Black kidnaps Cash’s wife Y/n and newborn son. They tell Cash all of this is his fault and Malakai promises to show her what a real man can do. What happens when their powers are too strong and Y/n ends up joining HOB and becomes Queen alongside Malakai Black. 

PURE FILTHY SMUT WITH MALAKAI BLACK AND Y/N!

Mentions of kidnapping, blood, swearing, cheating, lactation kink, oral F receiving, creme pie, squirting, just pure filthy smut!  I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me. This is also the only time I will write Smut about HOB! 

Main Masterlist Cash Wheeler Masterlist (This has NOT been proof read!)

I felt it in my gut that something was wrong, all day I felt sick. “You alright man? You don’t look so good” Dax asked me “No, I’m just worried about Y/n. She’s not picking up her phone and I think my security system is down. I can’t see anything through the cameras'' Dax looked at me with a concerned look. “I’m sure Y/n’s alright, you need to relax Cash. They can’t hurt her. She’s at home safe with the baby” The ‘they’ Dax was referring to was the House of black. Our rivalry with them had reached another level when they started going after Dax’s wife and daughter. They started to threaten my family and I wanted to murder them. I made sure to get a new security system installed with a guard at the driveway to calm my mind when we were on the road. “Hey, sorry to interrupt but we are on next” Daniel Garcia interrupted us. Tonight we were supposed to end things. It would be FTR and Daniel Garcia VS House Of Black to put all of this to an end. Little did we know it was only the beginning. 

We were first to make our entrance, Daniel, Dax and I stood in the center of the ring waiting for House of Black to make their entrance. They never did. Instead a video started to play on the screens in the arena. “I’ll give it to you Cash, I thought no one loved you. Turns out I was wrong. That’s unfortunate, you see if you just joined us none of this would have happened in the first place. Now you will pay for your sins” Said Malakai Black. I didn’t quite understand what he was talking about at first. I knew all of this was just to get in my head. That was until the camera turned to show my house. Those fuckers were at my house. I wanted to run, I wanted to stop them but I knew there was nothing I could do. I was hours away, so I had no choice but to watch the events that unfolded before my eyes. 

My front door had been broken down, windows were shattered. Malakai walked slowly into my home admiring the decor, smashing whatever remained. I felt my heart drop when Malakai started going up the stairs, I knew where he was going. I knew who he was going to see. I felt my blood boil as I saw the destroyed nursery, my little baby boy cried from his crib as Malakai picked him up. “Shhhh, it’s okay little one. I’m here now. I will raise you as my own. Your father is a failure, he couldn't even protect his own family how pathetic.” I tried to run but Dax and Daniel held me back. All I could think about was Y/n, was she alright? As Malakai cradled my baby in his arms he then moved the camera down. There I found my wife. She was on her knees, Brody holding one arm while Buddy held the other. “And what about your pretty little wife? She’s a feisty one. I really didn’t want to hurt her but I had no choice. She sure is stronger than you Cash, she had fight in her, something you lost long ago.” I was going to murder them. Julia pulled Y/n by her hair so I could get a good glimpse of her face. Her nose and lips were bloody, I assumed it was a broken nose. That made me even more angry. “He’s going to fucken kill you” Y/n spat. Malakai bent down so he was now face to face with Y/n. “I like her, it’s a shame she had to settle for someone like you Cash. She deserves someone better. Someone who can take care of her, someone who can protect her. She’s way out of your league. But don’t worry Cash, she’s in good hands. I promise you I’ll take care of her. She’s mine now. I’ll show her what a real man can do '' Y/n spit in Malakai’s face “You shouldn't have done that beautiful. Finish her” 

I don't know what happened next, I ran out of that arena as fast as I could. I was going to kill them. 

I drove for what felt like forever. I was obviously speeding but I had no choice I needed to get to my family. Daniel and Dax said they would help but this was something I needed to do on my own. When I finally reached my house I saw just how destroyed the place was. Everything that wasn’t nailed down was broken. Who would do such a thing, this never needed to go this far. I called for my wife but there was no response. I searched every square inch of that house and came empty handed. The last place I looked was the nursery as I couldn't bare to look at it. When I entered the room I was greeted with darkness. I felt sick to my stomach, I cried, I wanted to puke. All of this was my fault. Dried blood stained the floor. The walls were spray painted with satanic things, they took my babies. I held on a stuffed bear I gifted my son when he was first born and I cried. They were right, this was my fault. I wasn’t a man, I was weak. Y/n deserved someone better, someone who could protect her. I put her through so much within the past few months that I was waiting for the day she would leave me but she never did. For god sakes there’s a warrant out for my arrest and now I have to deal with house of black’s attacks. All I wanted to do was curl up and die, my life wasn’t worth living if I didn’t have Y/n in it. But that was what they wanted. They wanted me to give up, they wanted to prove that I was weak but I wasn’t. I searched around for any clues to where they could possibly be and found a piece of paper crumpled up underneath the rocking chair. It was a address, that must be where they are. I called Dax and Daniel, telling them to meet me at the address. I went into my safe, grabbed some weapons and was out of there. As I was leaving something shiny caught my eye, it was Y/n’s wedding ring. I didn’t care if I went to jail after all of this, I was going to kill them. 

When I finally came to that’s when everything hit. I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t know where my baby was. What I did know was that I had a massive headache and a broken nose. I didn’t know who I was more mad at, Cash for letting this rivally get this far or House of black for making it get this far. “Well look who’s finally wake” Said Malakai Black. “Where the fuck am I and where is my baby?” I asked the man who stood before me “Your safe, I’m going to make sure nothing ever bad ever happens to you again. I’m going to make you my queen. I’ll give you whatever you want. Together we can rule the kings of the black throne. Don’t worry, our little prince is safe. Julia is taking good care of him. Now if I untie you will you behave like a good girl? I don’t like seeing you tied up like a pet” I felt sick when he referred to Cash and my son as ‘our’ little prince. That was MY baby. “He’s going to find me, he’s going to kill you” “Now baby, I sure hope he finds you. That would be even more pathetic if he doesn’t at least try and save you? The thing is he will fail. I know you don’t realize it yet but you soon will. You will see that Cash is no man. He’s a criminal who’s hiding from the feds. All it takes is one call and he’s gone for good. Would you rather raise a baby on your own while your man rots in a cell or would you want to rule the world with me? The choice is yours” 

I didn’t know what to say. As much as I hated to admit it Malakai did have a point. “You know I’m right. If you aren't 100% sure yet let me show you. Let me show you what a real man can do, show you what a real man feels like.” I knew it was wrong but I let Malakai kiss me. I stopped fighting it, I knew it would be no use. He kissed with such passion, it was rough, it was hard. It was something I hadn’t experienced in so long. “There you go baby, just let go. Let me please you. I know that vanilla man can’t make you cum” I knew this was wrong, for fucks sake this man kidnapped me. It took everything for me to pull away from him. I couldn't do it. “I can’t, I can’t do this” I told him “You can't but I know you want to. I know there is that dark side inside that is waiting to be let out. I can feel it. It’s calling to me, It turns me on baby, look how hard you make me. Oh, how I envy Cash. I understand why he’s been hiding you, you are just absolutely gorgeous. Everything about you is beautiful. Your eyes, your lips, your delicious curves. Oh god, I just know you taste so good. I know you are sweet as pie, I can’t wait to taste you” I hated the way this man was turning me on. I hated everything about this but for some reason, I couldn't do anything about it. I haven’t felt anything in so long. Malakai was right. I was turning him on. I could tell by the bulge in his pants he was huge. I could feel my core ache at it. I couldn't believe that I was really going to do this. I had never cheated on anything in my life. I felt so guilty but I was hypnotized. 

“Can you at least turn the lights off?” I asked. I could see the look in Malakai’s eyes switch. They were now dark and filled with desire. “Anything for you my queen. You don’t even have to lift a finger, make me do all the work. I want to show just what a real man can do”

As I watched Malakai get up and dim the lights I noticed that the room I was in was a bedroom. I was sitting on the ground of the velvet room. How did I not notice that? Malakai returned and carefully helped me off the ground and placed me on the comfortable bed. He removed his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. Fuck was he hot, his body was covered in tattoos, I wanted to trace them, I wanted to lick them. What the fuck was wrong with me? Who am I becoming? I let him kiss me, he started at my ankles and worked his way up to my neck, kissing and sucking at my most sensitive parts. I let Malakai remove my shirt and my pants, he was delicate. I felt his clothed bulge against my core as he was now on top of me. He left marks on my neck and chest. He removed my bra and started sucking on my sensitive nipples, I felt him moan around the flesh and it made me squirm. I could feel him getting even harder. “Fuck, your lactating. That is so hot. Oh god, baby I’m going to cum in my pants like a teenager. You taste like heaven. I’m going to suck you dry” His words turned me on. My oversensitive nipples ached by his touch. He sucked and bit on one before switching to the other. Making sure they were both loved. He started to grind on me as he did this, I wrapped my legs around his waist. I needed to feel him closer. I had never experienced this before, Cash wouldn't even suck my boobs when I had a clogged milk dud and Malakai was over here sucking me dry. I didn’t understand what was happening to me.

“What do you want baby, tell me what you need” I was struggling to form words, my body was on fire “Use your words. Tell me what you want me to do to you?” “I need to feel you, I need you in me,” I told him. I didn’t even recognize myself, my voice was so desperate. “That’s my girl. I want that too but first I need to taste you. I need to get you ready to take me. Feel how big I am” Malakai moved my hand to his clothed erection, fuck was he huge. “See, I’m going to make you cum on my tongue then I’ll fuck you like a real man” 

Everything was too much, tears of pleasure streamed down my face. Malakai was everything I needed and so much more. He knew what he was doing, the way he sucked and bit everything perfectly was enough to make me cum on the spot. When he added three fingers to the mix I was a goner. He pulled two orgasms from me and now he was working on a third. “I know you can do it baby, you are so close. Give it to me, just let go” “I can’t, I can’t do it. It’s too much” I cried out. “I know, I know baby, just give me one more and I’ll fuck you. You just taste so good, I can’t help myself” A small part of me felt bad about doing this to Cash but I needed this. Malakai continued the assault on my pussy, eating me out like his life depended on it. He moved his hands on my uterus, pushing hard on my stomach, triggering my orgasm. I cried out in pleasure, I never came so hard in my life. He lapped up every drop I left. Thankfully he gave me a few minutes to collect myself before he got back on top of me. I was able to taste myself on his lips and moaned at the taste. He kissed away my tears, filling me with praises. “Are you sure you still want me? I already proved I am a real man and I haven’t even fucked you yet. Are you sure you can handle it? Am I too big for you angel” Truth be told, I wound’t be able to walk for a week if I let him fuck me. On the other hand, when would I get another chance like this? 

“I want to make you feel good” I told him softly “Oh baby, you have already made me feel good” “I need you in me” I told him “Whatever you say baby” Once he removed his boxers I was able to see just how massive he was. The head of his dick was angry, cum already spilling from the tip. He was ready to burst, I needed him to fill me up. He stretched me out perfectly, my brain turned into mush as he pounded into me. It didn’t take long for either of us to cum. His thrusts were hard, they were so deep, they hurt so much but felt so good at the same time. “Fuck, I’m so close baby. If you keep squeezing me like that I won’t be able to pull out” Without thinking I blurted out “Cum in me, fuck, please fill me up. I need it, I need it so bad” I wrapped my legs around his waist to keep him close. “What a little slut” Malakai spat and it just turned me on even more. It took a few more thrusts from him to cum. My senses were on overdrive, this orgasm was hard, it triggered my fourth orgasm of the night. I ended up squirting hard all over him. Something I had never done in my life. “Oh fuck” Malakai yelled out “And she can squirt! I’m never going to let you leave” He continued to fuck us through our highs before we collapsed on the bed. 

“This is it, this is the address” I told Dax and Daniel “So you're telling me they are in here?” Dax asked, referring to the big castle-like mansion that appeared before us. We broke in through the side door and searched the place looking for Y/n and my son. “Uh guys, I think I found Y/n” said Daniel. I followed him and entered a dark room. There I found Y/n and Malakai sitting on two thrones. The other members of HOB surrounded them. “You're too late, she’s mine now. You really were a shit husband. It’s a good thing I found her. I’ll take good care of her. Together we will rule the kings of the black throne” Said Malakai. I looked at Y/n and knew that wasn’t my wife. She wore all black, she had heavy dark makeup. She looked dead on the inside, she was cold, she was evil, she became one of them. Dax and Daniel didn’t know what to do, they had the same horrid look on their faces as I did. 

Went up to Y/n, I looked her in her cold dead eyes and begged her to forgive me. “I know I have been a shit husband, I know I fucked up but I’m sorry. I should have been there. I failed you. I’m so sorry Y/n but please forgive me. Please, I will do anything. What about your baby, our son? He’s only a few months old. He needs his mother, he needs his father. I don’t know what he did to you but I know the real Y/n is still hidden somewhere inside. Come on Y/n! Stop looking at me like you hate me, you love me and I love you. I love you so much, I’m sorry. Please Y/n!!” I begged on my hands and knees but I was no use. She was too far gone.

“Your begging is pathetic, you're embarrassing yourself” Brody spat out “Shall we take care of them boss?” he asked “Please do, remove these peasants from our property” commanded Malakai. I tried to fight back but it was no use. I failed, I was no man. I lost everything, I now have nothing. 

[centralperkchenford]

We need Tim being super anxious/clingy about putting their baby in her own room for the first time

This is super fluffy 🫢🥰

Your little hand's wrapped around my finger And it's so quiet in the world tonight

We need Tim being super anxious/clingy about putting their baby in her own room for the first time

Tim stares down at his baby girl in her crib before Lucy is pulling him away. He looks at her one more time before he lets Lucy lead him to bed.

“She’s so little.” He mutters under his breath. Lucy kisses him on the cheek as she climbs into bed. He looks over at the crib just off to the side of Lucy’s side of the bed. They put it close enough that Lucy could easily get out of bed to grab the baby. She had been in a bassinet when she was first born, but she was four months old so Lucy decided to bring in the small crib so she could sleep in that before moving her to her own room.

“Babies are little Tim.” Lucy reminds him gently. “She’s fine. She’s been sleeping through the night.” Tim nods and then turns away from the crib so he’s facing his wife.

“I love her so much.” He mutters. Lucy’s eyes soften immediately and she reaches over to cup his cheek.

“I know you do Tim. But she’s not going to be in our room forever.” She says gently. “She has to learn to sleep without us in the same room.”

Tim knows this and it’s logical but ever since Ava was born his heart grew about ten sizes. And every milestone she had was both amazing and heartbreaking for him. His phone screen lights up the room and he groans rolling over to see who it is.

It’s just an alert that their security system had been set. He taps his phone again and he sees his Lock Screen. It’s the newborn pictures they did with Ava. The picture he chose was one of him, Lucy and Ava. Ava was sleeping but they were both peering down at her lovingly. Lucy tugs in his arm again and he rolls back over.

“Tim. She is always going to be your baby girl. But her growing and growing up is kind of a part of the process.”

“I know.” He says and he leans forward to kiss her. “I know.”

***

A few nights later Tim wakes up to Ava’s cries. He clambers out of bed before Lucy can move and goes over to the crib. He picks Ava up soothing her the best he can. Lucy is already sitting up one half of her shirt down. Tim places their daughter on her chest and she latches and soothes immediately. Tim brushes her soft hair off her forehead and then goes to lay back down. He throws one arm over his head and closes his eyes.

But he can’t sleep, Ava is making cooing noises happily sucking from Lucy’s breast. Tim rolls over to face his wife and stares at her in awe. She’s amazing she created and carried life and then brought their beautiful daughter into the world. And on top of all of that she provides the food for their daughter to grow up healthy and strong.

Lucy’s catches him looking and smiles at him. One hand one Ava’s back rubbing soothing circles she knows the baby likes.

“What?” She asks. He shrugs and leans over to kiss Ava on the head. Her eyes are half shut so he knows she’s almost done.

“You are just amazing.” He says softly because it’s true. And he will never stop telling her that.

She smiles at him softly. “Well thank you. So are you.” She says. Ava is now fully asleep, Lucy pulls her away and hikes up her shirt before swinging her legs out of bed and carrying Ava over to the crib. She burps her gently and then lays her down before coming back over. She crawls into bed and gives him a swift kiss before turning on her side facing the other way. He knows she’s tired, so he just wraps his arms around her and they fall asleep. Their baby girl sleeping peacefully in the corner.

***

When Ava is five months old Lucy decides it’s time she moves to her own room. Tim’s not sure how he feels about this and he’s so stressed and anxious about it he brings it into work without realizing it.

“Bradford!” Says Angela’s voice and then she’s waving her hand in front of his face. He tries to seem annoyed but he can’t even muster that.

“What?” He says. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you okay? You have been zoning out for the last few minutes.” She says and he shrugs his shoulders.

“Lucy wants to move Ava into her own room.” He says not looking at Angela instead focusing on the paper on his desk.

“She’s five months now right?” Angela asks. Tim nods and glances at the picture of Ava he has on his desk. It’s one of her newborn photos. He needs to update it, but he just can’t seem to find the heart to replace it.

“Is she sleeping through the night?” Angela asks and Tim looks up at her tilting his head a little bit.

“Yeah pretty much.” He answers. “Isn’t it too soon to move her though?”

Angela shrugs. “Look it’s honestly up to the parents. Jack and Aria went into their own rooms around 5 months. She’s going to be fine Tim. She can’t sleep in your room forever.” She says in a comforting tone.

Tim knows this but it doesn’t stop him from being anxious for the rest of the day and into the night at home. And Lucy seems totally fine with it, not anxious at all and he knows it’s not fair to be mad at her but it’s kind of pissing him off.

“Why aren’t you anxious about Ava sleeping in her own room tonight?” He snaps at her as she’s putting dinner on the table. She glances at him eyebrows raised.

“Because I know it’s time for her to sleep away from us and it will be good for her.” She answers calmly. “She will be fine.”

Tim swallows down the retort and walks out of the room and into the nursery. Lucy did a great job decorating it. It was a light pink and grey. And everything in the room matched and it just felt cozy. It would be a shame if it was never used.

He sighs and sits in the rocking chair, leaning back and breathing deeply. He doesn’t hear Lucy come in but next thing he knows there is a weight on his lap. He looks down and sees Ava smiling her gummy smile and his anxiety melts away.

“Hi baby.” He mutters kissing the top of her head. She claps her tiny little hands and then lays her head on his chest, just like Lucy does.

Lucy smiles down at him. “She will be fine Tim. And you know when she has a bad dream or she’s sick or whatever she will be right between us. She will always be our baby girl, but babying her will not help her in the long run.” She says calmly. And she’s so patient with him and so loving Tim knows he doesn’t deserve her. Yet she still chooses him everyday.

“Come here.” He mumbles. He adjusts himself so Lucy can slide in next to him. “I just hate that she’s growing up so fast.” Lucy nods in understanding running her hands through his hair.

“I know but we gotta enjoy these times because she’s not gonna be this little forever.”

“I love you.” He says and both Ava and Lucy turn to look at him. He smiles planting a kiss on both their heads.

Lucy is right he can’t hold on to Ava as a baby forever, he’s gotta let her grow up. And he knows watching her grow and learn new things and hitting milestones will be the best thing ever.

***

Ava sleeps in her own room that night and sleeps until morning. And surprisingly so does Tim. He does however go into the nursery when he wakes up to find her wide awake and smiling. He scoops her up and holds her close and sits down in the rocking chair. She settles on his chest much like she did when she was a newborn and closes her eyes her tiny hands fisting his shirt.

He sighs happily.

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

Don't you ever grow up

Just stay this little

[lifefindsaj]

Popular misconception: The core Jurassic Park is about dinosaurs. It's not. It's about this guy...

It's easy to think that, given how every movie centered around the prehistoric creatures. I mean, the title is JURASSIC Park or World. Heavy emphasis on dinosaurs.

But if one was to look at the entirety of the franchise, even go as far as reading the novels, Jurassic Park seems more focused on the chaos. Cause and effect. Complex systems failing. Unpredictability.

Kind of sounds like a certain scientist now, doesn't it? In the first film, Ian Malcolm makes a speech in the nursery. While the speech is triggered by the raptor, it's not about the newborn or any other animal. He speaks on genetic power.

Ian tells how the hubris exhibited by the staff and John Hammond is a fallacy because manipulating genetics at Henry Wu's level is an untested field with unforeseen consequences. The dinosaurs are more than teeth here, they are variables. And variables can skew data.

While we see the dinosaurs running around eating people, the main narrative is summed up nicely in a popular quote from, yes, Ian; "Life finds a way."

No matter how many fences are put up or how many gene sequence gaps get filled, nature always wins. We see this with the natural repopulation by the dinosaurs in the wild. We see this even with the ending: nature handling nature as the Rex kills the Raptors. They are variables settling as the status quo shifts.

Where am I going with this? Jurassic World Dominion.

One of the biggest complaints I've seen for the sequel is that there was too much focus on the bugs and not the dinosaurs. That Fallen Kingdom promised dinosaurs in the mainland, not some locusts.

I disagree with them. Aside from the bugs, the dinosaurs had plenty of screen time and were even in Malta!!

I think the insects were a great idea, but implemented poorly. Could've been poor writing. Could've been COVID reasons during production. I like to believe that the locusts suffer from being shoved into a movie that really needed to be 2 parts. If Jurassic World Dominion was 2 parts, they could have kept the locusts and flesh them out more AND include dinos in cities.

I'm digressing.

Dominion and the locusts represent the peaking in the abuse of genetic power, told in Jurassic terms. The locusts unchecked may cause a possible extinction of the human race, all because BioSyn was blinded by its own hubris. Lewis Dodgson is dark John Hammond.

Jurassic World and Fallen Kingdom said the same thing about genetic power with hybrid monsters. Hoskins talked about Raptors eating terrorists "belt buckle and all." A black market emerged. People died. All because humanity discovered how to manipulate genetics without understanding the consequences.

So, yeah, Jurassic Park and Jurassic World revolve around action scenes with dinosaurs and a beautiful shot of them here and there. But the core of the franchise, the main narrative, is not about shoving dinosaurs in front of the camera and watching them fight. It is and always has been about genetic power and the mishandling of it by arrogant men.

[bonnieboyoo]

FUN FACT

I have Cystic fibrosis!

It’s An inherited life-threatening disorder that damages the lungs and digestive system. Cystic fibrosis affects the cells that produce mucus, sweat, and digestive juices. It causes these fluids to become thick and sticky. They then plug up tubes, ducts, and passageways. Symptoms vary and can include cough, repeated lung infections, inability to gain weight, and fatty stools. Treatments may ease symptoms and reduce complications. Newborn screening helps with early diagnosis.

Heres some websites!

https://www.cfri.org/

Nobody really knows about my sickness and I’ll love it if you can repost this so people know more about it

[darkmaga-retard]

by Brian Shilhavy Editor, Health Impact News

The Marshall Project, a “nonpartisan, nonprofit news organization that seeks to create and sustain a sense of national urgency about the U.S. criminal justice system,” just published an investigative report about a topic I have written about for the past decade, which is that States can take your baby away from you anytime they want based simply on a drug test, even if that drug test is false.

Hospitals use drug tests that return false positives from poppy seed bagels, decongestants and Zantac. Yet newborns are being taken from parents based on the results. Susan Horton had been a stay-at-home mom for almost 20 years, and now — pregnant with her fifth child — she felt a hard-won confidence in herself as a mother. Then she ate a salad from Costco. It was her final meal before going to Kaiser Permanente hospital in Santa Rosa, in northern California, to give birth in August 2022. It had been an exhausting pregnancy. Her family had just moved houses, and Horton was still breastfeeding her toddler. Because of her teenage son’s heart condition, she remained wary of COVID-19 and avoided crowded places, even doctor’s offices. Now, already experiencing the clawing pangs of contractions, she pulled out a frozen pizza and a salad with creamy everything dressing, savoring the hush that fell over the house, the satisfying crunch of the poppy seeds as she ate. Horton didn’t realize that she would be drug tested before her child’s birth. Or that the poppy seeds in her salad could trigger a positive result on a urine drug screen, the quick test that hospitals often use to check pregnant patients for illicit drugs. Many common foods and medications — from antacids to blood pressure and cold medicines — can prompt erroneous results. The morning after Horton delivered her daughter, a nurse told her she had tested positive for opiates. Horton was shocked. She hadn’t requested an epidural or any narcotic pain medication during labor — she didn’t even like taking Advil. “You’re sure it was mine?” she asked the nurse. If Horton had been tested under different circumstances — for example, if she was a government employee and required to be tested as part of her job — she would have been entitled to a more advanced test and to a review from a specially trained doctor to confirm the initial result. But as a mother giving birth, Horton had no such protections. The hospital quickly reported her to child welfare, and the next day, a social worker arrived to take baby Halle into protective custody. (Source.)

And if you are tempted to think that this was all just an honest mistake made possible by too much bureaucracy, and that this could never happen intentionally, I will remind you that this is the same county in California, Sonoma County, where a foster and adoptive parent was just sentenced to six consecutive life sentences in prison last week for torturing, starving, raping and sodomizing his three foster children, whom he kept hidden from the public for 10 years, with the help of the Sonoma County Family, Youth and Children’s Services (FYCS). See:

California Foster Father Sentenced to 6 Life Terms in Child Sex Trafficking Case: Hid Children for 10 Years Where They Were Chained, Raped, Tortured, and Starved

The Marshall Project investigation does a good job showing how widespread and common this problem is of taking babies away from parents on false drug tests.

[thelongestway]

Looked through the "Love is a Legendary Action" show - and man, am I torn!

While I'm generally not interested in following long-term campaigns other people play, I actually really enjoy all of the actors' work - and I'd been curious about Aabria Iyengar's style for a while now! So this was a fun thing to take a look at. And the DM and players are great, honestly, I'd love to play at Iyengar's table, and everyone else is a really fun player! Although I gotta admit, Brandon Lee Mulligan's stuff here is a bit more over-the-top than is my preference - I like this sort of humor in comedy, not at the table. I think my faves are the wizard and rogue duet - Anjali Bhimani is iconic, and man, do I wanna see more of her work as well, and Neil Newborn is just... An excellent player, slipping effortlessly in and out of the spotlight. Together, these two just work really well - although I really wished the game had more space for Samantha Béart's shenanigans - the way she plays the "refreshingly direct but also street urchin" Karlach is awesome, and Béart's work has grown on me more and more.

But man, the extended advertisement for the visualization system did not do it for me. Those things CAN be handy, but ye gods, even with a group that's obviously familiar with the tool, you can see how it slows things down and sort of just distracts things from the theater of the mind. Especially because everyone in the cast is just good at really vivid description - which goes away when the virtual tabletop appears! And that's been my experience as well.

With long-distance DM-ing it is, of course, a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation. For many people, it is much harder to keep focus on voice alone - they need something to engage with, and a screen for many players is better than nothing. But on the other hand, this effect where "you can see things and therefore stop describing" is very real; I've run into it any number of times.

For me as a player and a DM? Uuugh I hate it. I hate how fiddly most interfaces in the TTRPG space are, and how easy it is to accidentally do stupid stuff. Funnily enough, my Ironman post yesterday was about BG3 - I'm finally (almost a year in) close to finishing my initial run. It's the pathfinding systems, the targeting, everything - and on the DM side, it's also a lot of effort for possibly negative returns.

The transformations were pretty cool tho, gotta hand 'em that.

[rmlpathology]

Understanding Different Types of Diabetes and Their Impact on the Body

Diabetes is a chronic condition that affects millions of people worldwide. It disrupts the body's ability to regulate blood sugar (glucose) levels, leading to serious health complications if not managed properly. There are several types of diabetes, each with unique characteristics and impacts on the body. This article will explore the different types of diabetes, how they affect the body, and the tests provided by RML Pathology to diagnose and manage this condition.

1. Type 1 Diabetes

Description:

Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease where the immune system mistakenly attacks and destroys insulin-producing beta cells in the pancreas. This results in little to no insulin production, which is essential for regulating blood sugar levels.

Impact on the Body:

Requires lifelong insulin therapy.

Increases the risk of complications such as diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA), a potentially life-threatening condition.

Long-term complications include cardiovascular disease, kidney damage (nephropathy), nerve damage (neuropathy), and vision problems (retinopathy).

Can cause frequent urination, excessive thirst, extreme hunger, weight loss, fatigue, and irritability.

2. Type 2 Diabetes

Description:

Type 2 diabetes is the most common form of diabetes. It occurs when the body becomes resistant to insulin or when the pancreas does not produce enough insulin. Lifestyle factors such as obesity, poor diet, and lack of exercise significantly contribute to its development.

Impact on the Body:

Often managed with lifestyle changes, oral medications, and sometimes insulin.

Can lead to complications like heart disease, stroke, kidney disease, eye problems, and nerve damage.

Symptoms include increased thirst, frequent urination, increased hunger, fatigue, blurred vision, slow-healing sores, and frequent infections.

3. Gestational Diabetes

Description:

Gestational diabetes occurs during pregnancy when the body cannot produce enough insulin to meet the increased needs. It usually resolves after childbirth but increases the risk of developing type 2 diabetes later in life.

Impact on the Body:

Can cause high blood pressure during pregnancy (preeclampsia).

Increases the risk of having a large baby, leading to complications during delivery.

May result in low blood sugar levels in the newborn and a higher risk of obesity and type 2 diabetes in the child later in life.

4. Prediabetes

Description:

Prediabetes is a condition where blood sugar levels are higher than normal but not high enough to be classified as type 2 diabetes. It is a critical stage for intervention to prevent the progression to type 2 diabetes.

Impact on the Body:

Often reversible with lifestyle changes such as diet and exercise.

Increases the risk of developing type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and stroke.

Symptoms are often absent or mild, making regular screening important.

Tests Provided by RML Pathology

RML Pathology offers a comprehensive range of tests to diagnose and manage diabetes effectively. These include:

Fasting Blood Glucose Test:

Measures blood sugar levels after fasting for at least 8 hours.

Helps diagnose diabetes and prediabetes.

HbA1c Test:

Provides an average blood sugar level over the past 2-3 months.

Used to diagnose diabetes and monitor long-term glucose control.

Oral Glucose Tolerance Test (OGTT):

Measures the body's response to a glucose solution.

Commonly used to diagnose gestational diabetes.

Random Blood Sugar Test:

Measures blood sugar levels at any time of the day.

Useful for diagnosing diabetes when symptoms are present.

Gestational Diabetes Test:

Specifically designed for pregnant women to detect gestational diabetes.

Conclusion

Understanding the different types of diabetes and their impact on the body is crucial for effective management and prevention. Regular testing and early detection play a vital role in managing diabetes and preventing complications. RML Pathology provides a wide range of diagnostic tests to help you monitor and manage your diabetes effectively. If you have any symptoms or risk factors for diabetes, consider visiting RML Pathology for a comprehensive evaluation.

Contact RML Pathology Today:

📞 7991602001, 7991602002 📞 0522-4034100 🌐 www.rmlpathology.com

Experience the best in diagnostics with RML Pathology – where your health is our priority.

[loneberry]

Seeing Double 

The shock of familiarity, of recognition even as what is in front of you is not what you have seen before, a paramnesiac fugue, for the past and its phantoms are playing a trick on you. Thus, the Greek teacher traveling alone in Switzerland in Han Kang’s novel Greek Lessons gets off a boat in a small city called Brunnen, drawn by a memory of the Suyuri neighborhood (now Suyu-dong) of Seoul, the neighborhood flanked by two mountain peaks: Baekundae to the left and Insubong to the right. Brunnen had conjured a childhood landscape in the mind of the weary wanderer. When he disembarked at the quay, a pale blond-haired man sitting at a café catches his eye. “He didn’t resemble you in the slightest, and yet he made me think of you.”

Leaving, he must lose his object all over again—it doesn’t matter that the German and the Swiss man have been transposed, so powerful is the mind’s capacity to pin all the unrealized hopes associated with lost objects onto ill-founded doppelgängers, all the like-you-but-not-really-s who step into our field of vision, oblivious to the idiosyncratic characteristics they possess that bind them to others—to strangers—circulating in the world. It could be a birthmark, a verbal tic, their eyes, their gait, their style of thinking or sartorial preferences—something as deep as “they both had mothers who died when they were thirteen” or as superficial as “they both wore red pants.” Whatever the detail that binds the object and its double, the nervous system responds as though they were one and the same, returning the perceiver of the echo to the same physiological state induced by the originary object.

I pause writing in my journal to read Deleuze’s Bergsonism, get lost for an hour trying to understand Bergson’s theory of memory and duration, of the coexistence of the past and present, rather than the linear view of time. Deleuze: “The past and the present do not denote two successive moments, but two elements which coexist: One is the present, which does not cease to pass, and the other is the past, which does not cease to be but through which all presents pass.”

There are people who live this split-screen existence more intensely than others, who experience the-past-in-the-present perhaps even more vividly than the scene that is in front of them. Is that the quality possessed by the characters in Han Kang’s novels and Theo Angelopoulos’s films that hypnotizes me, the elegiac atmosphere, the way the haunted melancholics walk around, out of sync with the world? In Angelopoulos’s Eternity and a Day, Alexandros, a middle-aged, terminally ill poet with a beard, is driving his car at night. He stops at a stoplight. When the light turns green, he does not move. Oh no—is he dead? I thought while watching the scene. He sits there, stock-still, like a protruding stone in a river, while the cars flow around his unmoving vehicle—a metaphor for the way our tempo sometimes comes unstitched from the tempo of the world. For the entire night he sits frozen, stares out the windshield until sunrise, then drives away.

His daughter informs him—she has sold his old house. He returns to the old seaside house in Thessaloniki. As he paces the derelict building, he hears the voice of his late wife Anna reading a passionate letter she had written to him while sitting by the sea. The letter concludes with the words: “Give me this day.” As the last line rings out, the shutters swing open, revealing a stunning vista of the sea of memory, a vision of the past: to the right, Alexandros’s mother sits on the balcony rocking his newborn baby, while below, his dead wife Anna and their friends sing on the shore. In the distance, all are facing away from him, toward the sea, until she and she alone turns to face him, her beautiful white dress blowing in the sea breeze. Then he’s down there, inside the memory as she implores him to join them in dance. The other people fade, until she too disappears.

On the shore he delivers a soliloquy on the split-screen life: “With words, I brought you back. You are there. And all is true and waiting…for the truth. For the truth.”

*

I remember, last fall, walking around the Kreuzberg neighborhood of Berlin with Al Burian, killing time before heading over to Sylvia Schedelbauer’s dinner party. Under the crepuscular sky, we were indecisive about where to go and eventually wandered into a graveyard, where we walked among the dead until it was fully dark. Al said that he knew it was time to leave Chicago when every inch of the city had a memory attached to it—he could no longer simply walk around without feeling held captive to the past, to the mental stream of associations summoned by particular places. Berlin was becoming that to him now: every location came with customized emotional baggage. As he was saying this to me, I knew he was thinking about a memory he had associated with the graveyard we were in—I dared not ask what the memory was.

We walked all the way to the other side of the graveyard. Did he go off to find a place to piss in the dark? We were talking about dreams. I was telling him about the monomanias implanted by my dreams, how they possess my soul, how I cannot stop until the oneiric prophecy has been realized. “Which is a liability because, as technicians of the sacred know, not all dreams are true. Penelope knew this. In Homer’s Odyssey, she spoke of the difference between dreams that pass through the gate of horn (true ones) and dreams that pass through the gate of ivory (false ones)—the Greek for horn being similar to the word fulfill, while ivory was similar to deceive. But what method did Penelope use to sort the true dreams from the false ones?? If only I knew! Perhaps your father could help me.” (His father being an emeritus professor of Classics and scholar of ancient Greek literature.)

He told me about how he had found the collected works of Freud discarded on a street, how he regretted not taking the volumes. I told him about a dream I had as a teenager: “You appeared in a retro living room with Björk, standing in front of a switched off TV, in a Lynchian set that exuded a surrealist Americana vibe. I thought to myself—my two favorite people! How happy I was in the dream.” (That was two decades ago. Then I was just a fan of his writing. His worked had ignited, in me, a desire to write—to become a writer.)

When we walked back to the entrance of the cemetery, the gate was locked. We panicked for a moment, until we found a tree stump that we climbed onto to hoist ourselves over the fence. While walking up the staircase to Sylvia’s top-floor apartment, I said, “And what would have happened if we got trapped in the graveyard all night?”

“We’d probably talk about our childhoods until sunrise,” he joked.  

I was wearing my t-shirt emblazoned with the opening page of Virginia Woolf’s The Waves, which I bought when I was teaching the novel in my “Water and the Imagination” class. (“Why not rep the most epic opening in all of literature?” I joked to my students, pointing to my shirt.) Later, as I was reading the ending of Woolf’s Orlando, I came across a passage that made me want to email Al to ask what memory he was thinking about as we perambulated through the cemetery in the diminishing light. I remember the dread in his voice as he spoke softly about the days getting shorter, the darkness that was the coming of winter—would it be the first winter without his mother?

I grab my copy of Orlando to look for the quote that made me think of that night.

Orlando bemoans:

“‘Time has passed over me,’ she thought, trying to collect herself; ‘this is the oncome of middle age. How strange it is! Nothing is any longer one thing. I take up a handbag and I think of an old bumboat woman frozen in the ice. Someone lights a pink candle and I see a girl in Russian trousers. When I step out of doors—as I do now,’ here she stepped on to the pavement of Oxford Street, ‘what is it that I taste? Little herbs. I hear goat bells. I see mountains. Turkey? India? Persia?’ Her eyes filled with tears.”

How much heavier the weight of memory must have been for Orlando, who had accumulated three centuries of experience! Woolf reminds us: “For if there are (at a venture) seventy-six different times all ticking in the mind at once, how many different people are there not—Heaven help us—all having lodgment at one time or another in the human spirit?”

In the margin of the book, near the passages I had marked, I had jotted down a note about the exchange in the graveyard:

Every place had a memory associated with it, so that as he moved through the city, he experienced time non-linearly. That’s when he knew it was time to go. “You don’t like that feeling?” I asked, thinking about how beautiful my memories appear to me at sunset.

(And isn’t reading so much like walking through the memory-conjuring cemetery? That’s why my marginalia so often consists of memories triggered by the text I’m reading, the way Woolf’s description of all the times ticking inside us made me think of Al.)

[ladylooch]

My favorite moments of Em and T are when he’s just a silent support system for her. Like Em doesn’t even have to ask, he can just read her like a book. His second road trip after the twins are born the entire household gets sick. Timo has to leave before they realize how bad it is but when he’s back home 3 days later em is 1 crying baby away from collapsing to the floor. But enter Superdad timo to save the day and comfort his wife after all the chaos has subsided

I agree! I love their dynamic and how fierce fully they have each other's backs. Like constantly willing to tap the other in to support and knowing they have that option. That is true partnership.

Emma knows she is a good mom. She has always had this ability to seamlessly move from one child to the next, but two newborn babies and two sick older children have quickly put her to her limit.

I’m leaving the airport now. Twenty minutes 😘 

Emma sighs gratefully at Timo’s text, laying back into the couch as she finishes feeding Logan. 

“Daddy is coming home.” She whispers. 

In that twenty minutes, absolute chaos erupts. Liv throws up. Lio is trying to cling to Emma while she tends to Liv. Both twins are awake and crying for contact with their mother.

“Lio. Get off of me. I understand you want cuddles, but I can’t right now.” Emma tells her oldest through gritted teeth. “Please.” She whimpers in the end as she gets back down on the floor. Lio falls to his knees and begins to sob. Tears of frustration and overwhelm build in Emma’s eyes. 

Then a large, comforting hand comes to her head. Thick fingers rub at her scalp for a moment. She looks up at Timo who pouts in concern at her.

“I…” 

“Baby, go take a break. I’m home now. I’ve got it.”

Emma stares at her husband, feeling utterly defeated. She sucks her trembling bottom lip into her mouth, then nods. 

“This is a lot. You’re doing your best.” Timo reminds her. All she can do is nod ghostly as she leaves the room. Once her butt hits the end of the bed, she collapses into sobs.

Failure of a parent. Failure of a homemaker. Failure of a wife. She can’t do this!? She’s completely out of her element being a full-time mom and wife. She needs help. They are only three road trips into the season.

Emma falls asleep in utter exhaustion at some point. When she wakes, the world is dark outside and a blanket has been lain across her body, likely by her husband. She holds the soft threads under her chin as she sits up. The house is quiet. Enough so that she wonders if her entire family has disappeared. Her body protests as she stands up. Her abdomen aches where she is still healing. Her breasts are heavy from not feeding and she gingerly rearranges them in her nursing bra. They leak at her touch. She needs to find the babies. 

Her feet softly hit the hardwood downstairs, taking in her family sitting quietly in front of the TV watching Coco. Liv and Lio are snacking on orange juice and cheese pizza. One twin is sleeping in the bassinet, while the other is happily taking a bottle from a shirtless Timo. Her husband’s eyes briefly leave the screen, double taking when he sees her. She glances around the main area of the house. Not only did he get the babies to settle, but he cleaned the house.

“Lex and Nico came over to help me.” He fills her in at the dejected look on her face.

“That is nice of them. I need to feed a baby.” 

“This one is ready for you.” He gestures to Liam who is in his bassinet. 

“Is that formula for Log?” They’ve had to supplement formula at times because of Emma’s supply struggles. 

“No. It’s milk from the fridge.” Emma nods then grabs Liam, walking over to the nursing station that Timo had restocked for her. She gently lowers herself into the chair, then gets the baby in her arms settled into eating. Once all is going well, she takes a big sip of water. Across the room, her husband watches every movement of hers.

“How are you doing?” Timo asks softly as he rests Logan on his shoulder to burp. Emma’s lips crumple. She shakes her head no at her husband. “Baby.” Timo sighs. “This is too much for you on your own.” Emma nods in agreement. She will look at the resumes from nannies the team had recommended tomorrow. 

Emma looks around the room at the two sick Meiers, the newborn twins, and Timo. He quirks a corner of his mouth up at her in a sympathetic smile 

“You still love me?” He asks sweetly. Emma nods giving a small smile back.

This may be chaos, but it’s their chaos. And she knows with Timo she’ll never be alone in it. 

[larrythefloridaman]

hey. thoughts on The End?

will wood's Memento Mori: The Most Important Thing In The World type motherfucker. he hunted winston overwatch for sport and for that I have to respect him. this being said this guy would've done numbers in 2012 tumblr sexyman culture

its fitting in a karmic, Frankenstein-y sort of way that prism went down fighting a monster of her own creation, a manifestation of the fear and entropy and disillusion that made her become a monster that reflects her own cheery detached evil back at her, even if she went down triumphant over said fears, but at the same time its... sort of funny. she made up a guy to get mad at for the last time, and finally conquering her fear took the form of dragging them down with her to protect everything else. At once a lovely representation of how people can grow through exploring what they fear in fiction, and... kind of an ironic reprisal of the same sort of thing that put her in this position in the first place.

The End (of the story,) is, in fact, eventually, inevitable, as such i think its unlikely we've seen the last of him. And while he has an inconsiderate, detached perspective on what he does, endings arent necessarily a bad thing, and we cant forget hes Pretty New in the grand scheme of things. The grim reaper who has no appreciation for the lives it takes will be a cruel and lonely one who is not living well.

I think of the Lord of Snakes and its new Special Little Guy sort of in the same way i think of the necessity of predatory and decomposing forces in an ecosystem. Like wolves and mushrooms. That which ends may die, and its not pretty, and it may feel cruel to see a lion stalk and hunt a little gazelle, but it has to eat, and both their corpses will go on to feed other things, as things must be broken down by consumption and the natural process of decay. Nothing comes from nothing. The cycle is unbroken. it is just as natural for the animals to flee and fight this tooth and nail. There is, of course, unethical consumption grown out of control and also the unethical prolonging of living things, but consumption and decay and creation and preservation are in and of themself morally neutral things when removed from all other factors and context. To me, the End is only like that because he was born out of Prism's fear- and thus born interpreted into being as something hostile. Anyway.

Cobalt, thinking he's a god of life and death when he's really a god of balance: (had an ethics crisis over the nature of death and constructing a poorly thought through system resulting in countless deaths in and the ultimate destruction of an off-screen world due to cobalt being hypocritically unable to look death in the eye and make peace with its inherent and unfixable unfairness without abstracting it into something he cant be held fully responsible for)

The End, newborn god of finality, emerging fully formed knowing what they're about like aphrodite from the foam in a world doomed to die not long after its birth:

[stellanslashgeode]

WIP Wednesday

Here's the first chunk of Way of the Mynock and I am open to suggestions and feedback. :)

She was alone.

Which was far from her natural state. Ever since her mother surrendered her to the Jedi Temple (when she was practically a newborn) she had lived surrounded by practitioners of her erstwhile faith. Nurtured by their light and life. The sunlight to which she directed her petals as she grew into herself and into her self-worth. Now the Temple was many kilometers above, perhaps still a smoldering ruin for all she knew. Far more damage than she caused. And her people, the Jedi, were all but gone. On days when her emotional turmoil subsided enough for her to meditate she sometimes was bold enough, or self-punishing enough, to attempt to reach out to push past the overwhelming miasma of the dark side triumphant out seeking members of the Order she had betrayed. Her perceptions stretching out though the Force. She could only feel a faint trace of her master. A residue that seemed troubled and sad but leaving the possibility that Luminara may yet live.

Ahsoka she could not sense at all. But that wasn’t a surprise. They formed quite a bond during their years fighting a war but soon after the trail, as she waited in a Temple detention cell, she felt the connection wither from Ahsoka’s end.

Maybe she hated her now.

Maybe she was protecting herself from the hurt she had caused her.

More likely she had rejoined the Living Force.

In the end it didn’t matter.

The Order preached detachment, forgiveness, rehabilitation of those who sought redemption. But some actions are unforgivable.

Trying to get your best friend killed, for instance.

Barriss Offee did not dare seek forgiveness or redemption at this stage in the game. She mused to herself in quiet moments that it would be a matter of years to balance her scales back to the light. If that was even possible. To somehow repay a karmic debt against thirty-some murders and the betrayal off all she swore loyalty.

Thus, she had spent however many months it had been since her escape alone and sought to adapt to this condition in the long-term. It was to be her destiny. Her bill to pay for allowing herself to succumb to the dark side.

Her only companions at the moment were the swaying dim yellow light of her lantern and the occasional hiss of the portable one-being air filtration system. She wore it around her chest like a bandolier and it would send stagnant puffs of breathable air up into her face in areas in which the sensors deemed unsuitable to support Oxygen-breathing life.

Which down here was almost all the time.

Upon her escape she dove down into the nearest ventilation shaft, those porous entrances to the vast districts below the surface. Dove like a traipse artist who did not know if there was a net to save her. At that moment she was not sure she wanted to be saved. At any moment she may have gone splat against a speeder, or a bulk transport, or simply an extended cargo arm. It didn’t matter anymore.

Until it did. Until she reached out with the Force to direct her fall. Then to slow her pace. Finally coming to a bone-rattling stop several hundred levels down.

And she kept going down, down, down.

She stole what little she dared to indulge her basic survival. And she kept going.

Coruscant had an Upper City, an Undercity, and a vast expanse below said Undercity. Early in her egress all traffic both inbound and outbound the planet was being screened for Jedi survivors so down was a prudent direction for her to travel. It was ironic that one could find such a fine hiding place from this new Empire at its very heart though not surprising. The Republic had ignored the teeming societies underneath its foundations for thousands of generations. To civilized minds this vast innerspace was as unexplored to the Republic and its Imperial successor as the Unknown Regions.

Lately, she had spent days descending an ancient subway tube, straight and relatively navigable despite centuries of disuse. It was likely built to connect heavy industry to some housing development project that used to be on the surface, commissioned by who knows which Republic Chancellor to garner votes. Barriss had no idea, just a general gist of its vintage due to the dialect of Basic on rare still-legible signage. She had no idea how long she had been travelling this tunnel to Hades, she had no chrono to measure the passing days and had not seen the sun or stars in several months. She kept at it because she knew the destination.

The great scar. A void in the sub-Undercity caused by a starliner collusion that killed tens of thousands. It became a memorial and then sort of a federal park for a time. A space of open real estate left undeveloped in respect to the dead.

Eventually, as with all locales in the Galactic Capitol, a ceiling formed over the whole district and it was buried. Now a true tomb.

It was her destination because Barriss had heard there was opportunity here. Maybe  an opportunity to perform good works that could satiate the waterfall of guilt coursing through her being.

Such emotions and their ramifications were now and ever-present aspect of her lifestyle. Beyond the guilt and its handmaiden regret there was a stinging fog of sadness. Crushing loss. Not to mention lingering embers of fear, frustration, and anger that led her down her path of damnation in the first place.

As a youngling, as a Padawan, as a Jedi Barriss had always been driven to be right. To be the best Jedi she could be. To make Master Unduli proud of her. Such was the single-minded dedication to the Jedi code. Above all things dedicate yourself to light and life. Then just when she was traversing the tricky rapids of adolescence came the war. And she steadily observed those she held on a pedestal betray everything she believed. And They expected her to go along with it. To be a party to the Jedi Order’s ruin. To subvert her monastic calling to the whims of The State. It was an affront to her very spirit, to busy herself every day perverting her ethics. Her heroes from the history books would have been ashamed of her. Those luminous Jedi of old: Vernestra Rwoh, Avar Kriss, Jora Malli. Those who had faced the Nihil Crisis and the Nameless. If any of their spirits were aware of them during the Clone War they would have wailed in distress at what had become of their legacies.

And there was no excuse for it. There were so many still around who remembered those Jedi and the trials they faced, such as Grandmaster Yoda.

They should have known better.

They should have been wiser.

They should have trusted in the Force.

Barriss thus sought out Letta and the resources of her radical anti-war faction. She planned the bombing in hopes the jolt would knock the sages out of their stupor and change their ways. She had already fallen to the dark by that point so in her twisted perception it seemed like almost a merciful act. She would sacrifice her own grace, her path towards light and life, for the greater good. She would sacrifice lives.

And they didn’t listen.

They branded Barriss just another Separatist turncoat and tried to brush her under the rug. No course correction was taken. No one stopped to meditate on the true political meaning of her crimes.

And they all died for it.

As angry as she was, and she was for a time consumed with great and furious anger, she mourned their deaths.

Barriss had been arrogant to believe her actions could stop the great wheel from its turning. Now the Dark Times had begun. Who knows how many generations would be made to suffer under possibly-Sith dominion. It was too much for the young ex-Jedi to bear. She could not watch her home transform, to see the flags wave and hear the thudding of clone boots reverberate though the alleys.

She exiled herself to this underworld. She kept moving forward and downward, always further from the execution she deserved. Barriss did not delude herself that she was following the will of the Force by doing so. It was a cowardly dodge after too many years of war. Her own hands were as bloody as anyone’s. All those sabotage missions with Green Company. All those patients on her operating table. Or bleeding out on a tarp in the field. The bombardment of heavy artillery damaging her hearing. Frantic duels in the void with deadly droid pilots in the Umbara orbital campaign. The Geonocian brain worms. That was all in her past. The Barriss who lived though those trials was all but deceased. A spirit haunting the body and sharing the consciousness with the Barriss she was now. A damned thing. A traitor. An apostate. A woman without a home and lacking direction. Lacking grace.

Barriss had escaped justice so she punished herself via this journey. The pain she felt in the creaking cartilage of her knees, aching in her hip sockets, her calves felt like they were burning, her feet ached with each step. It was almost as effective as self-flagellation.

When she could not bear it anymore she would pause for a reprieve, groaning and easing her body down to rest on the curved walls of her everlasting tunnel. She would set down her lantern, consume enough water and food to fuel future exertions.  

Sometimes she would sleep, hopefully not to dream. Though she supposed she fully deserved her nightmares.

It was hard for her to come to terms with her survival. It was not fair that she would live while the beings she betrayed had died. She could have joined them. She could have lain down and accepted her utter failure and surrender herself to fate. She could lay down right now and allow the subterranean urban fungi slowly devour her. But something kept her going. Whether it was the ghost of her youthful idealism and driving need to serve society or the smoldering of the dark impulses that caused her fall she could not say.

Now. This moment. She flicks off her lanterns and rests in the dark. The only sound echoing though the midnight dark transit tube was the small but steady stream of water running downwards, perhaps from rainfall originating from the sky above, and her own weary breaths.

She could take a moment to rest.

She cannot yet be at peace.

But she can rest.