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#and by that i mean i as an individual am prepared to keep talking about band geek robin buckley
eskawrites · 1 year
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okay i’m officially obsessed with robin’s high school band experience (i say officially, i’ve been thinking about this for a while and now i’m finally caving and writing about it), so here are my Robin Buckley Band Geek(TM) headcanons for you to enjoy or ignore at your leisure
Robin is actually surprisingly into basketball. did you see her at that game? yeah, she’s there to shred the melody line on 25 or 6 to 4, but she’s also here cheer on/laugh at the Hawkins High team
you bet your ass she has had a crush on like half the girls’ basketball team btw
some of her first jabs at Steve were actually about some of his worst moments on the court. until she saw that those actually hit kind of hard, and then she laid off and started mocking his inability to talk to girls instead
once she and steve become friends, he’s actually surprised when she can keep up with his and lucas’s basketball chats. they ask her to practice with them exactly once, and it goes as terribly as you’d expect. but she still hangs out sometimes and gives lucas pointers when steve isn’t there
her favorite pep band song is Sweet Caroline. it just is.
sweeeet carolliiiiiiine. dun dun DUNNNNNNN
she is not supposed to be standing next to Vickie during Lucas’s game (seriously what even are their lines?? trombone trumpet clarinet? a random baritone row behind them? @ hawkins pep band wtf is going on here)
but she’s a senior and she can do what she wants
Vickie lets her, which is very cute imo
she has a vendetta with the percussion line
this is band kid law. you have to have a vendetta with either the percussion line or the trumpet section, and since she plays trumpet, she only has one option
she’s actually not bad at marching band. she has the discipline, she can think on her feet, she can focus on her steps and the angle of her trumpet and the set list and everything all at once with no issue. it takes her a while to stop stumbling over her feet freshman year, but once she has the fundamentals down, she’s absolutely fine
she took a french horn solo to state contest her junior year and actually ranked pretty high. but between the stress and the ptsd, she just didn’t have the motivation to do it again her senior year
it’s just as well. contest would’ve been after the events of spring break, and even if hawkins high had the resources to send a group of band and choir kids to contest after the “earthquake,” she definitely would’ve backed out
speaking of spring break, the first time she tries to play trumpet again after facing vecna hurts. that’s a lot of air to get through a throat that’s been nearly crushed by upside down vines. she fakes a lot of her playing for a few weeks, and by the time graduation rolls around, she’s mostly just going through the motions
it’s another thing the upside down has taken from her, and it makes her livid
Nancy absolutely understands why Robin is pulling away from band, but sometimes she thinks back on her vague memories of Robin in the bleachers--the crisp jacket, the clean white gloves, the sharp angle of her shoulders as she snaps her horn to attention--and she wishes she’d paid more attention to her back then
Will joins band his sophomore year! he wants to try something that’s just for him. he asks Robin for advice and she tells him how to get on the director’s good side as well as which kids to avoid. she also tells him that if he joins percussion she’ll never forgive him.
i think he’d play sax personally--lots of melody, great for solos, but also not the center of attention and really good at blending in
Robin finds herself going to a lot of hawkins high games during her gap year, which is completely unexpected but also a lot of fun. she and Steve sit in the stands and cheer Will and Lucas on in equal measure
(Will being there for all of Lucas’s games, too <3 it’s what he deservessss)
Robin’s parents are broke and she never ever spends any of her money on herself, so she doesn’t actually own any of the instruments she’s played. which means after high school, she has no access to any of it even if she wanted to keep playing
Nancy, Steve, and all the kids pitch in to get her a really nice trumpet a couple years after high school. we’re talking King brand, silk-lined case, the works. she cherishes that thing like it’s the fucking crown jewels
if/when Robin goes to college, she won’t join band but she’ll befriend a lot of the band kids. they’ll find out she used to play a couple different brass instruments and encourage her to pick it up again, even if it’s just in her free time
she does, and she joins some small groups--not class related, just having fun and performing with her friends
(steve goes to every single performance, even if it’s not even a show or anything. he’s been known to sit in on practices and grin at her with the proudest, dorkiest look on his face)
(Nancy also goes to every performance she can. she surprises Robin once, flying in at the last minute to go to one of her concerts. she shows up with a bouquet of flowers and it takes all of Robin’s willpower not to fall to her knees and propose right there)
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elinoracia · 1 year
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⁑ Someone else flirts with you // Hogwarts legacy characters reactions x reader ⁑
~ Hogwarts Legacy headcanons ~
Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, f!reader, use of Y/N, not proofread, swearing (censored) Pairings: Sebastian x reader, Ominis x reader, Garreth x reader, Amit x reader, Poppy x reader, Natty x reader, Imelda x reader, Leander x reader.
Feel free to request anything!
→ [All characters are aged up to 18 y.o. or more (7th year)] ←
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Context: Following the events that took place during the 5th year, you became more popular without really wanting it. A few people have started to take a closer interest in you. But you still only have eyes for one person since you arrived. However, a boy has started flirting with you and talking to you more and more often. His name is Spencer Rooks. Spencer is the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team, also in 7th year. His soft blue eyes, freckles and blond messy hair could make anyone feel flustered around him. But he only has his eyes on you and the person you like took notice of that. Today, Spencer passed you a note to meet him after class. You chose to accept his offer and listen what he had to say to you. Someone seems to not be too pleased by that... (pre-relashionship)
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THEIR REACTION:
Sebastian:
Oh he's pissed. You're his! Well...not yet but you are his! He tolerated Spencer's flirting for way too long. He has to intervene.
"Spencer, leave her alone. Can't you see Y/N is not interested?"
All means are good if it makes him leave you alone. But if Spencer insists too much to talk to you, Sebastian will definitely raise his wand at him. He's not scared to be in detention again.
"Let's leave Y/N. He's not worth you time at all." He takes your hand and leads you somewhere else.
"What a prick! Touching you like that and flirting with you. Trust me, he's not good enough for you."
You ask him if he's jealous and you see him frown.
"I am not jealous, I would just prefer if he didn't exist near you! I-I mean...I know you can take care of yourself but- I just don't like others around you that can't respect you."
He'll cross his arms and will stare into your eyes.
"Next time, tell him you're mine. Tell him you're my girlfriend. And if he tries anything, I won't need my wand to hurt him. Besides, I bet he only likes you because you're Hogwarts hero or something like that...NO! I'm not jealous! I just think you deserve better!"
He will make sure that everyone knows you're his, even if you're not yet in a relationship with him.
He WILL be more affectionate and touchy in public.
He's very possessive and will remind you that you both were best friends before you saved Hogwarts and the wizzarding world in general.
"I liked and still like you for you, don't fall for guys like Spencer who only notice you for what you did. He's an opportunist! And you deserve someone who can see how wonderful you are."
Ominis:
Now he is more discreet about his feelings for you and how he handles jealousy. But when Spencer asked you to meet him after class, Ominis couldn't let that happen. He realises he was too slow to be the first to ask you out and he had to do something...quickly.
"Y/N, is that true that you planned to meet Spencer after class? Well...I advice you to reconsider. He does not seem like a very proper gentleman."
You ask him if he's jealous. You see his cheeks redden.
"Jealous? Why should I be jealous Y/N? You obviously are too good for him. And he does not seem like the type of individual you would be into...isn't he?"
He is worried you are into another boy but he tries to keep his composure.
"I heard a few people gossiping about him. Apparently, he has a new girlfriend every month. You deserve to feel special Y/N."
This might be the first time he pays attention to meaningless gossips. But he just has to convince you not to give Spencer a chance.
"Besides, I might need your help after class to prepare myself for our next potion exam. My concoctions are still utter rubbish and you seem to be the only one who actually make me improve my skills."
Any reason is a good reason if it makes you stay away from the Hufflepuff.
He will sit next to you in every class to make everyone understand you are with him, even if you're not his girlfriend yet...
He will frown everytime he hears you talking to another guy. And if Spencer dares to speak to you, he will drag you away and find an excuse to justify it.
"I hope he was not bothering you. I can make the Headmater expel him if he tries anything inappropriate. Just tell me if anything happens."
He didn't mind boys talking to you but when Spencer got a little to close to you for his liking, he became a bit more protective of you. He doesn't want to let that happen again.
Garreth:
He is not usually the jealous type because he knows you're not interested by the other boys/girls who are flirting with you on a daily basis. But Spencer seemed to have your attention for some reason... And when Garreth is jealous, he is not very classy about it.
"What is going on with Spencer and you? I heard you two whispering during class. Since when the both of you are that close?"
You explain to him you planned to meet up with Spencer after class because he had something to tell you. You hear the red-haired boy scoff.
"I bet he'll confess to you...that idiot. Hum...please tell me you don't reciprocate his feelings?"
He'll try to invite you somewhere else so you don't join Spencer after class. He thinks he is being sneaky about it.
"Please I can't find those ingredients without you, it's very urgent matters! Screw Spencer! Besides, you'd rather spend time with me than him...right?"
You're making the poor boy anxious. He is scared you might find Spencer better than him.
"I can also play quidditch you know? And I bet Spencer is not a talented potionist like I am! I'm just saying..."
You ask him if he's maybe...jealous? He left you no time to finish your last word that he quickly retorts.
"Me? Jealous? Please Y/N, you can't be serious. Why would I be jealous? We're...friends... and he is just some guy. I simply don't want you to shift your attention on him and forget about me, alright?"
You try to reassure him with some light-hearted teasing that he was your favorite flirt and that you couldn't possibly forget about him, even if you tried.
"Well...now I know. Could you maybe repeat the part where you said you could never forget me?"
Amit:
He is really not the jealous type because he understands why and how popular you became. But when he is jealous, he does not dare to talk about it to not seem possessive or selfish. But the way Spencer acts around you doesn't sit right with him...
"Y/N? I hope you don't mind if I bring up a rather...private subject. It's about you and Spencer. I noticed you two during class... Are you perhaps- please stop me if you do not feel comfortable sharing- b-but are you two...together?"
You ask him if he's just curious or maybe... jealous? You see him stiffen at your question.
"J-Jealous? I'm really not! I swear! I just think he might not be the right fit for you... You deserve someone who sees you for who you really are; the shiniest star in the sky. Nothing less..."
You reassure him by certifying that you were not in a relationship with Spencer. You then explain he just asked you to meet you up after class to tell you something. You see Amit slightly frown.
"I...I don't think you should meet with him."
He then instantly apologizes. His facial expression is a mix between confusion and fear. He's torn between telling you not to go or let you do what you want...
Out of the blue, he gently grabs your hand.
"What if I said I also... wanted to see you? Who would you choose?"
You can't help but let out a small chuckle. Of course you would choose Amit over him...over anyone actually. But he is so cute when he is jealous. But you finally give in to his request.
"R-really? You'd rather be with me? Then let's go to Honeydukes after class! I could also let you try the new lense of my telescope!"
Seeing him compete for you attention definitely made you feel really hot... He is so adorable.
Poppy:
She is way too obvious when she is jealous. She just can't hide it. This Spencer boy is seriously getting on her nerves...Why can't he just leave you alone? She's the only one who has the right to be glued to Y/N!
"Hum...Y/N...Are you and Spencer a thing? Because he seems really interested and you don't seem to mind it. I-I'm just curious, that's all! You know you can tell me anything."
She looks nervous and you can see it. She is twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.
You tell her that Spencer actually asked you to meet him after class. Seeing the look on Poppy's face, you might have actually thought she saw a ghost. She was petrified.
"M-Meet him after class? Does he like you? Do you think he'll confess? Oh Merlin... Do you like this guy?"
She bombards you with questions. You're trying your best to reassure her but she doesn't seem to focus on what you're saying. You then take her hands into yours to calm her down.
"I-I'm sorry. But, as your friend... of course... I am just worried this guy is just not any good for you at all. He doesn't seem like the type to treat you right or anything. And you're worth so much better!"
"And who do I deserve then Poppy?" You asked with a playful giggle. You like to see her all flustered. It was so cute.
"W-Well...maybe someone who like you before all the stuff that happened during 5th year...A-Anyway! It's not about that, we are talking about Spencer here!"
She pouts at your light teasing. She is so terribly obvious about how she feels.
You have to reassure her and tell her that you don't feel anything for the Hufflepuff boy. She lets out a big sigh of relief.
"Good...So...does that mean you're free after class? Wanna do something with me?"
Natty:
Now Natty is very mature and can handle her jealousy very well...that's what she thought until Spencer grew a little too close to you. She usually doesn't mind your multiple admirers but this time it felt different. She has to do something...
"Y/N, I was wondering... Spencer seems quite persistent. Maybe you need help to tell him off?"
You explain to Natty he actually became a good friend and that he wanted to talk to you after class. She keeps a neutral face, not wanting her emotions to get the best of her.
"That is good to hear. I wonder what he has to say to you."
Natty knew exactly what Spencer wanted to talk to you about. But she felt selfish... She was biting her tongue to not say anything more.
"I hope he is not in love with you Y/N. I heard he was quite a flirtatious guys and that he treated his ex-girlfriends very poorly... Yes those are gossips but sometimes they are right! Well...maybe he is just pretending to be nice to you for now, you know how boys are."
She would let you meet Spencer after school but she would overthink about what your response to his confession would be.
"So? What did he say? Tell me everything!" She was trying to keep a smile on her face but she was really really anxious.
As you explained to her, you see her gently relaxing her shoulders. You don't share the same feelings as Spencer, to her delight.
"That's good. He was not right for you anyway." You then dare to ask her why she was so happy you didn't reciprocated his feelings. She was taken aback.
"P-please don't think I was jealous. I just know you well enough to assume he was not your type at all. You deserve someone who will treat you like a princess."
She has never been more relieved you rejected someone. She will keep a close eye on you the next time someone talks to you. She can't let that happen again.
Imelda:
When she is jealous, she usually just bullies you. She hates to see you with other people no matter who they are. So, you can be certain that she cannot stand Spencer being all flirty and chatty with you.
"He just can't leave you alone, can he? Always trying to get your attention. It's so pathetic. Don't give him the time of the day, he's a twat."
You tell her that Spencer asked you to meet him after class. You see her almost explode of rage in front of your very eyes.
"What the f*ck? Who does he think he is? I mean, please let him embarrass himself, I know he doesn't stand a chance...right? Don't tell me you like him? Oh good...not that I care or anything, you do you."
You ask her if she's jealous. She lets out the meanest laugh you've ever heard. Ouch...
"Me? Jealous of him? I can prove it to you that I am, in fact, better than him. I'm also a MUCH better quidditch player. Just saying... Don't look at me like that! I'm not jealous! Just stop hanging out with him, that's all!"
She might sound agressive but she really just needs to be reassured.
"And you promised me to be there at every one of my quidditch practices. And if he doesn't like it, I'm not afraid to punch him in the throat and break his precious broom."
You notice how agitated she is by the fact that Spencer might like you. You say nothing to preserve peace but...how cute it was that she wanted to fight someone for you.
"Forget about him. You deserve a much better contenders for your love. You also deserves someone that is as good as me on a broom. Spencer is way too slow. Why are you smiling at me like that? What did I say?"
She'll make sure you only look at her during practice and during other classes. She'll make sure to remind you that she is the best person to hang out with you.
Leander:
Now he will go about it the hard way to keep people who are interested in you away. He usually straight up lies and tells everyone you are actually his girlfriend so nobody will flirt with you. But Spencer just directly asked you...not fair. He has to do something about it... and now.
"What? He asked you to meet him after class? Well...just don't go? Or tell him you have a boyfriend? Oh come on, it's just a little white lie."
He tries to convince you not to go. But you still want to hear what Spencer has to say.
"Okay but only if I go with you. I can't leave you alone with that creep. Do we have a deal?"
When you wait for Spencer after class, Leander was waiting with you. Leander just couldn't hold back the urge to mark his territory and show that you were his...not officially but in his mind your were his.
"So, please tell us what you wanted to say. Don't be shy."
Leander is touching VERY inappropriately while Spencer tries to speak. He runs his hands down your back, around your shoulders and…on your hips.
You want to stop it but you can't. You...like it. It makes you feel all nervous and you feel your cheeks redden.
At the end, the poor Spencer just gave up and excused himself from the conversation.
"I think he got the message. You're not interested by him and you'll never be. I was helpful, see? "
You scold him gently, telling him how innapropriate that was. He just smirks and chuckles at you. He's so childish...
"Oh don't pretend you didn't like it Y/N. Maybe I should do it more often, that seems to keep the others away."
You stroked his ego unintentionally.
But...what if...nobody stopped you from going?
Spencer:
He waits for you after class. He looks so nonchalent, you almost refuse to think he might confess to you.
"You came! What a relief. I just wanted to tell you that...I know that we've not been friends for long but...hum...I like you. I almost lost my last quidditch match because you were the only thing on my mind."
You were just speechless. Your face was burning up and your cheeks were red. He took notice of that.
"Sorry, I just blurted it out but I'm really serious. I like you Y/N. And if you just let me one chance to prove that I'm worthy of your affection, you won't regret it! Does it sound too corny? I just really like you sorry, I'm letting my heart speak for me right now."
The Hufflepuff's face was also red. He looks so sincere. His blue eyes staring right into yours.
"Do you need time to think about it? I can give you some space. I just... I would give you the world if you ask me to. You're just...so wonderful. But I'll give you the time you want to think about it! Or maybe we could go on a date? Just to make sure I'm your type."
He lets out tiny nervous chuckles as he speaks. He is a blushing mess and he is trying his hardest to speak clearly and not be overwhelmed by his emtions.
Will you give him a chance?
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livelaughlovesubs · 13 days
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okay my dude, have you seen the recent hsr leaks about mr. reca??2?2?2?2?1!#+@( I am so down bad for that man you wouldn't understand........ anyways, I'd like to ask for prompt 28 (fitting them with a collar) with him :3333
- anon
I saw!!! But I don’t have a single clue what his personality is like! I’d guess a fun but sly character? Welp, let’s see how this goes (I have no ideas help)
Dom!Actor!reader x sub!Reca - reader is GN
Warning: collaring, teasing, fwb…?
Anniversary event
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“Oh come y/n, for old time’s sake, do it for me, alright?” You clicked your tongue, not even looking at the individual who was talking to you, back facing to them with your arms crossed, “I won’t do it, I told you already.” A moment of silence, before they sighed and closed the distance between you two, “why won’t you take that role?”
“Mr. Reca, will you please respect my choices?” Suddenly you turned around and raised your voice, seeing him lean against the couch in the middle of the room, wearing a fading smile. “I need you for that role, there’s no one else who can take it.” He repeated once again, then continued with, “and I won’t leave until I’ve convinced you, or, if you gave me a reason for your decision.” You slammed one hand onto the makeup table in front of you, putting the other against your forehead. “If I gave you a reason, you’ll have hope, and keep trying.”
The male kept quite, he couldn’t argue with that one, “if it because of the writing? Or the personality of the character?” You shook your head, “no, none of that. Don’t bother me any further, Reca, don’t let our friendship go to waste because of some measly dispute.” He scoffed, grinning widely, throwing his head back in a defeated stance, “I’ve already got sponsors and began the preparations, I can’t go back now. Y/n, help me out, I don’t want to end up as minced meat.”
You chuckled, answering his plead with a sarcastic smile, “it’s your own fault. Don’t worry, I can introduce you to some actors.” Reca looked down to his feet, taking a deep breath, exhaling, before staring you in the eyes, “no, I still want you, and I won’t have it any other way.” After debating for so long, you thought he’d finally crave in, though it seems you underestimated his resolve. “Reca, i-” “yea yea, you don’t want to, got it. So, what can I do to convince you?”
Your eyes widened at that, it took you a while to compose yourself, “wow, your resolve is admirable, but I don’t think I’ll fold.” The brunette stepped away from the couch, getting closer to you, mumbling, “don’t be shy now~ you can request whatever you want. A deal, of some kind, what do you think?” It’d be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued, just how far could you push his buttons, you wondered. “Whatever?” You repeated his words in a questioning tone.
“Whatever.”
“Do your movies mean more to you than your life?” You joked, shaking your head in disbelieve. “Let’s see what I can make you do.” His eyes lit up, his usual cheerfulness returned, “so you agree? Haha! You have my gratitude, y/n! Aeons, lemme kiss you.” Out of nowhere he hugged you and kissed you on the cheeks, both sides, before taking a few steps back. You on the other hand froze, blinking a few times, remembering his eccentric tendencies, then gagging out a, “don’t thank me- it’s a mutual deal.”
“Right, that reminds me, got any idea what you want?” Reca smirked again, he was in a usually good mood now. “I’ll just have you as my pet.” You eventually said, then you specified your statement, “ah, and I’ll only cooperate as long as you are my pet.” When you looked over at him again, his mouth hung agape, red eyes shrunk a little while he stood there like a statue. “…you are joking.” He asked carefully. “I’m not.”
An awkward silence broke out once more, luckily he broke the ice after a few seconds, though it was done with a condescending comment, “Right, you were an eccentric like that.” A breathy laugh escape you, “hah, says who?” You two kept eye contact for a while, then he gave up and hide his face in his hand, groaning, “urghhhhhhh.” A faint blush covered his ears, and probably his cheeks as well.
“So?” You questioned, wondering if that was too much for him. “What? Of course i agree.” Reca frowned, an embarrassed scorn on his face, why were you so nonchalant about all of this? After getting his consent, you couldn’t help but sigh, “You really are a slave to your production.” He grinned again, winking at you, “Aren’t we all slaves to our desires?”
You thought about it, opening the drawer of the furniture behind you, taking something out before taking a few steps closer to the rather tall male in front of you. “Yea, you are right, it’s a part of being human I guess.” Then you wrapped the leather around his neck, pulling gently, tightening it. When you were done, you raised his chin, teasing him with a hint of irony, “don’t take it off, it’s a gift from me, your master.” His breathing hitched, but he didn’t back down, feeling the weight of the situation finally catching up to him.
“I’m sure the movie will turn out great, all thanks to you.” He then stated, rubbing the collar around his neck, feeling a weird sense of comfort inside him. You nodded, “of course it will, I don’t tolerate failures.” Reca laughed softly, then whispered meekly, “right. For that, I’ll be a good pet in return, master.”
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thebibliosphere · 2 years
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Hello! My household is not gluten-free, but there’s someone who’s very important to me who has celiac and is planning to visit us next month. I’m hoping to be able to feed them while they’re here without inadvertently poisoning them. I’ve got some good gluten-free recipes, but I’m worried about potential cross-contamination from cookware since we do usually eat gluten (though we won’t be cooking with gluten while they are here). I’m wondering if you have any resources for what precautions are necessary to safely prepare food for someone with celiac. I’m happy to buy a few things to use exclusively for gluten-free food, but I’m not sure if storing that with the rest of our cookware would be okay or if it should be stored separately? Would we be better off just finding a gluten-free restaurant nearby and ordering delivery while the person is here? I just want to make sure they are safe and feel welcome.
Hello! Thank you for being willing to take such precautions for your friend. I'm sure it means a lot to them to know someone cares this much for them.
You are correct in thinking that gluten contamination can occur from cooking utensils. Gluten can stick to porous surfaces, even when thoroughly scrubbed, and while some people are not sensitive enough for that to affect them, some are and it's always best to err on the side of caution.
Things like plastic or wood cutting boards, plastic mixing bowls, wooden, nylon and even silicone utensils can all be potential risk factors, even when thoroughly scrubbed. Cast iron and non-stick pans and appliances, waffle iron, griddle, plastic components inside a food processor.) can also be a potential source of cross contamination.
I remember when we found out I was being glutened by an old mixing bowl. I yeeted everything out of my kitchen and bought all new utensils and cookware.
Now, I am not suggesting you do that as you do not live with this person full time. But depending on your budget and if you want to have utensils you know are safe for gluten-free individuals in the future, you could put together a little kit that you can store away for later. I'd suggest a cutting board, mixing bowl and getting a cheap set of utensils. You could also invest in a cheap frying pan/pot and maybe a baking sheet tray. That's pretty much what I take with me when I am traveling, so that I know I won't end up having an MCAS reaction when staying in someone else's house. (For those unaware, gluten is a mast cell destabalizer.)
Make sure they are not being washed alongside your normal utensils. If you normally dishwash your other things, I'd suggest handwashing the dedicated gluten-free things with a fresh sponge that hasn't been used on anything else. As for storing them, try to keep them away from places where wheat flour (or other gluten containing products) might be in the air. You've said you'll be eating entirely gluten-free while the person is visiting, but just remember that also means replacing things like butter and jams, as people often overlook those.
Again, this will all depend on how sensitive the individual is. There are some people with celiac who do not react to trace amounts, and there are other folks who can become extremely sick from even the smallest trace amounts.
Beyond Celiac has some more helpful tips and pointers as well.
If all of these recommendations sound too much, I fully understand. It was daunting when I had to do it for me, nevermind a guest. In that case, finding a dedicated gluten-free restaurant would be the way to go--and a worthwhile venture anyway so you can enjoy some down time not having to cook.
Also, talk to the person and see what their needs are. They might be able to eat just fine using shared utensils, or may even be planning to bring their own anyway, like many of us do.
I hope this was helpful, and again, thank you for being considerate. I am sure it will mean a lot to your guest.
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bastetwastaken · 2 months
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Writeblr intro
Hey! I’ve been around on tumblr for a while now, and have been writing for probably the best part of fifteen years but actually only posting publicly for the last three. I’ve only ever posted fanfic, but I never stopped writing original things, I’ve just never felt able to share any of it until now. So here’s a little intro for me and my writing!
General stuff:
Call me Bastet, it’s what most know me as so it’ll just be easier
In my (very) late twenties
Living in the UK.
Other hobbies outside of writing include reading, crocheting, cross stitching, hiking and spending time with my three cats.
Bi-Ace, more sex neutral.
My anxiety can make it hard for me to post consistently, but I will ALWAYS talk about my wips with anyone willing to listen to me ramble, just be prepared for those rambles to get looooooong.
Themes in my writing:
For anyone who knows me, I think it’s safe to say I lean very much toward the cliche romance which aims to leave you wanting to gag on the sweetness whilst embracing the fuzzy warmth in your chest.
I hate sad endings. My characters will always have happy ones… eventually.
I try to keep my writing light since the real world makes us all suffer enough, so any angst will usually be light touch and always necessary to the character and or plot. I do make my OCs suffer sometimes, but not needlessly.
A focus on realistic characters, character growth and character traits.
What am I working on right now?
Untitled (titles are hard) A fantasy romance between a human and the demon who accidentally saved his life.
The general plot will follow both characters as they help each other (unintentionally at first) to heal and learn, to grow together as individuals. The human gets his opportunity to confront a past which has left him feeling empty inside and unable to form meaningful relationships, and the demon gets the chance to learn a little about what it means to be human. Their first meeting turns into a deal which binds them together, then a friendship neither thought they were capable of having, and eventually something more.
The main characters: Aviditas, Avi for short, an Incubus and Silk (placeholder name) a human.
Other fun stuff:
Demonic magic
Incubus antics
Character development and growth
Healing and comfort
A little slow burn but it’s more because these two are just idiots, with Silk thinking he’s so undeserving of any kind of care on account of past events and Avi being conditioned in Hell to believe that demons are incapable of any sort of feeling that it takes them a WHILE to work things out and actually talk.
Fun tropey romance!
I’ve tried to keep this short for the sake of everyones sanity but I will talk endlessly about this story and the characters if anyone would like to know more. (But I’ll also be posting more about them anyway so…)
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Fate or Fatuity? (working title) Another fantasy romance! No surprises here. This time, following the sons of two feuding kings who meet entirely by chance and gradually grow closer.
The general plot follows the characters as they navigate their feelings, potential conflict between their kingdoms, and how to keep their relationship a secret until they can figure it all out.
The main characters: Ilua, an elf and prince of Luceras and Akoni, a Deorum and prince of Tuath De.
This story takes place in a world of my own creation called Miotas, which draws on Celtic mythology and folklore. It includes a generous amount of magic to balance out the politics, and as with all of my writing, the romance is light and fun. Spoiler alert: there’s a happy ending.
Other fun stuff:
Elven pride getting in the way of a lot of things
Instant attraction
A little bit of deception since Akoni first meets Ilua whilst he's disguised as someone else to sneak into the Deorum kingdom.
Fun tropey romance!
Magic, who doesn’t love magic?
Overcoming prejudices.
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And I’ll stop myself there otherwise this is going to be way too long.
I’ve seen people use taglists, as I’m just starting out I don’t have one existing but if you’d like to be added to one please just let me know and I’ll do so ^.^ Specify a story, or just go all in and get tagged for everything and anything I say about these stories. I’m also looking for other writers to just chat with about original writing, as coming from a fanfic background I’ve been struggling to find that, so please feel free to drop me a DM if you wanna chat
Thanks for reading <3
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THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR...
A tarot reading on:
ENHYPEN
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Enhypen as idols:
Their debut as idols honestly feels chaotic. I don't know what happened, but the members of the group were not prepared mentally it seems for the lifestyle that was to come as idols. There could of been conflict with schedules, technical issues, or delay in communication. Enhypen's debut was a hot topic as well or a lot of people were just talking about it. I have a feeling some members of the group were rebellious when they were younger. Their company could of had unrealistic expectations from when they were teenagers. I am being reminded of those monkeys who perform in the circus and are trained to be a pet. "Animal cruelty"? Enhypen were trained in a very unethical way. It's like their company made them do things that were not suitable for minors (Child labor? Lack of parental figures present? Missing school? Something of that nature). "It's like dancing for peanuts.", were they not being paid fairly in the beginning of their career? Yikes. Although, I see that since Enhypen are now young adults, they are finding a way to achieve success. There is a lot of emotional healing and abundance present. They are experiencing some sort of wish fulfillment. (Clarified by Adjustment) I feel like Enhypen are learning to balance their idol life with their personal lives, perhaps in the past they weren't allowed to have much freedom but now they can explore their options and be more independent. I keep seeing birds in these cards so Enhypen read their fans messages a lot and appreciate the encouraging words they get, they know that engenes got their back.
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What does the music industry think of Enhypen?:
My phone crashed as I was writing this and I thought "break the industry" with this Tower card. The music industry adores them. They want to make them happy and give them all the endorsements they can possibly get. Their cards are on the table and they want to see what big move they will do next. Enhypen are only going to grow more and become even more accomplished.
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What do other idols think of Enhypen?:
I heard "they got their ducks in a row". So that could mean as a group other idols believe they are playing it smart and making moves that will overall benefit them in the end. Enhypen are not afraid to take a chance or provide themselves with new endeavors. I thought of the scene from White Chicks when Marcus said "*out of breath* I don't know? I like a challenge." After getting in a fight with one of the biggest dudes there. So idols could see Enhypen as a group that can take a "beating", meaning they stay strong in moments of adversity. They're quite patient and have a lot of emotional intelligence, protective of each other as well.
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Enhypen's dynamic as a group:
This group has a strong ass backbone. This is very impressive given the fact they're all so young. They can't be pushed around easily by people's words. "You can't move me, I'm stone." They just have a solid foundation and Enhypen all seem to be grounded individuals. They are compassionate, wise, charismatic, brave, and secure with themselves. Overall, I'd say they have a very strong bond as a group. Good luck to anyone who would want to sabotage them because they're not going anywhere and if shit were to ever go down at their company, they're leaving as a group.
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pinkestmenace · 10 months
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Thoughts on Dark Meta Knight
A continuation of 'Thoughts on Shadow Kirby'. This is a long one!
TL;DR: I first talk about his relation to Taranza and Sectonia, then comes the fic I 'accidentally' wrote, then I talk about his (mirror) abilities and relation to Meta Knight (or rather, his inherited memories.)
Have you ever noticed how whenever people talk about the whole Dark Meta Knight/Dimension Mirror/Taranza/Corrupted Sectonia issue, it's always "Taranza must hate DMK so much!" and never "DMK must hate Taranza so much!" or even "Why did Joronia/Sectonia keep a magical mirror that clearly oozed bad vibes?" (Note: I'm neither saying Taranza is a poor uwu boy who did nothing wrong nor that he is evil incarnate. He didn't know DMK was in there nor that the mirror had lingering corruption. I am however saying he was a fool for stealing an important magical artifact! All three were hurt here.) I mean, come on. Sectonia is an individual with agency. You're telling me she just placidly accepted this whole situation and only gets to serve as an "Evil queen needs to die!" and "Woe is Taranza, his beloved is dead!" plot device? She could have been corrupted/replaced by her own reflection! Maybe she was as interested in studying DMK/this weird danger orb in 'her' mirror as he was in corrupting her.
That is, if he did corrupt her. Who's to say he wanted that? Or had the ability to, other than by speaking? We've heard nothing about him having corrupting magic. Besides, what would he gain from it? Sectonia could've already been somewhat unhinged before she got the mirror and this was just the beginning of a domino effect. Remember, the mirror you fight him in in Triple Deluxe seems to be the one that was in the middle of the Central Circle, not the entrance of the Mirror World. That's the one Dark Mind was hiding out in and judging by how destroyed it still looks inside it's also the most likely place for any corruption to linger. (Luckily for the other inhabitants, I'd say. Not so lucky for him or poor Shadow, who in DMK's absence was likely left alone to defend the Mirror World and therefore grew more agressive like we see him in other games. He had no allies and no choice but to learn to fight.) I think that Shadow spawned when Kirby first entered the mirror, but DMK was likely around at least a little longer than that, judging by how he seems to have a pretty good grasp on his abilities already.
So. Since Triple Deluxe is clearly inspired by fairy tales, (Consider the Dreamstalk/beanstalk, a palace in the sky and a wicked beauty-obsessed queen with a literal magic mirror!) why not spin a little tale of our own?
I want you to imagine being Dark Meta Knight for a moment.
Mirror, Mirror, From the Sky — Who's the Wickedest and Why?
Once upon a time a dark force secretly infested your world. Depending on how long you've been around, you either spawned as a flawed clone, or you got to feel yourself being corrupted. You may not even know who you are, other than what the wisps of your inherited memories and skills tell you. Either way, the heydays of good fortune, friends and fair weather are nothing but a burning memory to you.
Dark Mind, the force calls itself and it takes an interest in you, since it could use a strong henchman. Now you have this flaming eyeball breathing down your neck, playing at being your master and ordering you around. Tsch. Do you dance like a pathetic little puppet? Do you plead with it using the fancy words you find on your tongue, but did not learn yourself? Do you obey to save your own skin, or resist and risk having your mind broken and hollowed out further? Do you have it in you to become a double agent? You are a scared toddler who only just learned how to walk. You are a hardened knight who has no patience for this. The armour you wear shows traces of battles you haven't fought. You cling to it in preparation for what's to come.
It sends you to go remove some obstacles. A pink child and your own doppelganger. Fueled by bitter resentment and childish petulance you dare to bend your orders just slightly. Rather than rend the child into pieces, you refract him into four. Rather than sending your doppelganger back to his maker, you lock him in with yours and break the mirror to prevent his escape. (As well as Dark Mind's escape, that is.) Your master is angry. That's fine. You're already wrong and broken and don't give a crap.
Eventually the child and his refractions fix and enter the mirror and your master gives you an ultimatum. Twice it told you to get rid of the brat and twice you have failed! Now, to prove your loyalty you must put your life on the line. Beat the brat. At any cost. Surrender is not an option! You shed the veneer and take out your frustration on the child. But he's too strong. You can feel your body give out! You remember how to beg. "Master, please, I can't take any more!" It's no use. Its fiery gaze scorches you, it widens the cracks in your mind and forces you to continue, miserable marionette that you are.
You shatter and your consciousness fractures. Where did you go so wrong? Why did this have to happen to you? What will become of that strange charcoal child you saw stalking you? You want to go home. That home isn't yours. What does your counterpart think? Like the allegory of the prisoners and the shadows on the cave wall you don't know more than what little you can infer. His flickering gaze is unreadable. There is no cave. You are the shadow. You have no idea what philosophy is.
??? days later you somehow wake up. You get your bearings. You're still in this ruined miniature dimension, but your master is gone. You're alone. Tsch. Figures the brat and your blue bastard of a counterpart would abandon you. What's wrong with them?! (What's wrong with you? Are you really that disposable? Maybe they didn't know you still had life left in you either. Did they mourn for you?) At least the mirror portal is right there. You'll go back to the Central Circle, find something to eat and then you'll plot your revenge against the world that failed to welcome you! You just have to step out...
...into a large bedroom. You look around. Fancy furnishings that would befit a palace. A breathtaking view of the rising sun, which drapes the room in purples and oranges. It hurts your eyes. You look down. A vanity? Where the Shards—
You don't get time to think before a piercing shriek rends the air. You look to your left and see a strange spider-like creature charging at you, wielding twin rapiers! You quickly leap out of the way and draw your own sword.
The woman stops in front of you, clad in a simple but refined silk nightgown, her four unoccupied hands balled into tight fists. She stares you down with her four front eyes. Is this spider as afraid of you as you are of her? She's Princess Joronia, you soon learn. She received the mirror as a gift.
She sympathises with you and offers you a cup of herbal tea to calm your nerves. You've never had tea, (not-you remembers the taste) but by the Mirror's mercy do you know you're thirsty! You accept it, if only to buy yourself time to figure out what's going on and come up with a way to escape with the mirror. The tea soothes you, although it has a strange aftertaste and Joronia's smile is gentle, if a bit too practised. Her gleaming upper eyes gaze patiently into yours. She doesn't drink. You're tired, so tired.
The next day you wake up inside the mirror and try to leave again. Joronia didn't seem so bad. Maybe you can convince her to let you return the mirror! You find it's been magically sealed.
"Oh, don't worry," says 'Joronia' through the glass, her eyes and smile just a little darker and haughtier than they were yesterday, "it's only a safety precaution until we get to know each other better." But months later she still hasn't let you leave with the mirror. Instead, she's been staring into it more and more, fussing endlessly over her make-up and increasingly ostentatious outfits. She laments to you as if you are nothing but a pet she can vent to freely. "Uhuhuhu~! Didn't I look simply unacceptable before? I just couldn't stand my dull reflection. Tell me how gorgeous I am! Then I might even feel generous enough to feed you."
You grow bitter. How trapped you are! Behind you is the ruined hellscape where you were broken and humiliated. In front of you is an increasingly deranged self-obsessed woman who you're forced to ingratiate yourself to for scraps. Tsch! You are caged and seething! The day you find the person who subjected you to this your sword will taste blood! Soon your vibe arsenic joins the maddening sulfuric stench that abhorrent eyeball left behind. Your mind and the mirror grow ever darker in a vicious cycle. It's been years. You yearn for sights you have only seen in dreams. You cannot die.
The reborn and remade Queen Sectonia doesn't care. She's too busy solidifying her power and enhancing her own grotesque beauty to pay attention to the machinations of naughty little strays. Your sharpened tongue pleases her just enough to spare you and coax out news of the outside world. You are her obedient pet. The keeper of her innermost secrets. More loyal than her advisor. You hone yourself and your blade when she's not looking.
So when Sectonia dies and the seal goes with her, you are ready. You don't care who's on the other side. You. Only. Want. REVENGE.
* * * * *
Headcanon time!
I see DMK as leaning into using his mirror abilities, not so much because he wants to prove himself superior to Meta Knight, but because that's something only HE can do. Something he 'earned', not inherited. He wants to be the best at something without needing help.
When he spawned he already knew how to speak, move and wield his sword. Or rather, the second he attempted to do any of these things he 'remembered' how to do them.
Wouldn't it be funny and tragic if so much of his life consists of discovering skills he didn't know he had, that belong to someone who isn't quite him? What surprises will his memory give him today? Amnesiac roulette.
Imagine: he's just idly fidgeting with a sheet of paper and looks down to see he's accidentally folded a perfect little origami crane. He crushes the crane. Tsch. Another skill he didn't earn! (Later he secretly learns to fold something Meta Knight hasn't folded before, just so he can say he made the skill his own. He will deny this.)
He didn't know he had the ability to mend his cape. Yet when he found needle and thread his hands traced the movements with practised ease. He refuses to mend his cape and claims it fits his rough-and-tough aesthetic. (He collects scraps and quilts a cozy blanket for his hideout. He claims to have found it in the trash.)
He comes across a book in a language he has never seen before. He can read it! The contents make little sense to him. He tries writing, but discovers his handedness is opposite to Meta Knight's. Ink smudges his left glove as he adjusts. (It shouldn't matter. He's ambidextrous! Try as he might, he still cannot draw or write with his right hand.)
Infodump about memory function incoming! (TL;DR: there are several types of memories, some about life events, some about sensations or skills.) I hope I can explain this correctly using an example.
Imagine you're going for a stroll in the park. You don't have to think consciously about every movement you make because you already know how to walk. You decide where to go and your brain handles the details automatically. (Procedural memory. This is what let him immediately move and fight.)
You spot someone walking a dog. Your brain goes: "Dog!!!" You don't have to analyse every feature of the animal to know this because the holistic concept of "Dog" in your brain immediately lights up and couples it to the language part of you to remember the correct name. (Semantic memory. This let him recognise the world and understand speech.)
You consider petting it. Your hand experiences the ghost of fur underneath. It just stopped raining, so your nose anticipates the wet dog smell as well. (Sensory memory. He gets whiffs of sensations and tastes he hasn't experienced himself.)
You approach the dog. Suddenly you realise you've seen this dog before! It was last week and when you pet it wrong it snapped at you. You remembered a specific event. (Episodic memory. He didn't get this one and therefore doesn't remember Meta Knight's life. He has to puzzle out what his 'original' is like from the other remembered scraps he got.)
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ritsuuu-0206 · 2 years
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A convo in the server about Bea's parents being mean and mother superion being possessive + Shannon, Mary, Lilith being protective
I can't plot or write for shit but eh, at least the idea is there ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Beatrice received a letter from her parents, informing her that they are on a diplomatic trip and will be paying a visit to the Cat's Cradle. The letter crumples when she clenches her hands, trembling at the thought of seeing them again after years.
She steadies herself, taking in slow, deep breaths. As long as she shows them that she's better now, they'll leave her alone. She doubts that they would cause a scene, considering that they are very concerned with appearances. But she's prepared for the possibility that it might happen, knowing their temper.
On the day of their arrival, Beatrice gives them a tour of the Cat's Cradle.
They expected Beatrice to be part of a convent, not some military. They scowled in disgust at the sight of the sisters training. When they returned to the main hall, which was thankfully empty - though unbeknownst to them, Shannon, Mary and Lilith were just out of sight, curious and concerned about leaving Beatrice alone with her parents.
"This place is not befitting of you. Risking your life fighting for what? We expected you to serve God as a nun, not a fighter. Pack your things, we're leaving." Beatrice's mother gestures at her to pack up, an eyebrow raising when Beatrice made no attempt to move.
"Mother, I will not leave this place. I am still serving God and fighting in his name is an honour." Beatrice could count the number of times she's talked back to her parents on one hand, because after the second time, she learned that she's not allowed to have her own opinions. But having to leave the OCS was something she couldn't bring herself to do. She's found a family here, people who accept her, who guide her with love. She doesn't want to give that up and return to hell with her parents.
A loud slap echoed in the hall, Beatrice's face turned to the side from the force. "How dare you talk back to me. I didn't raise you to talk back to your parents. You will gather your things and we're leaving this instant."
The moment she laid a hand on Beatrice, her sisters rushed out to stand between them. Lilith and Mary glared at them as Shannon checked on Beatrice, calming her when she realised that they had seen what happened. Shannon's heart breaks when she sees that Beatrice is holding back tears, eyes wide with fear.
"Sorry but Beatrice isn't going anywhere with you. You heard her loud and clear." Mary squared up to them but hoping that she doesn't have to punch them in front of Beatrice no matter how much she would love to.
"Beatrice is my daughter and she will listen to what I say. You can't keep her from me. I will bring this place down if I have to!" Beatrice's mother shouts at them fiercely.
Apparently the commotion had brought attention to Mother Superion, the sound of her cane echoing in the hall as she approached them made Beatrice shrink into herself, prepared to be punished for causing trouble. "What's all this about?"
"Mother Superion..! It's nothing of concern! I was just going to prepare to leave with my parents…" Beatrice immediately steps in to defuse the situation. She doesn't want her parents to cause more trouble for them. "I'm sorry, but I am needed with them."
"Like hell you are!" Mary turns to Beatrice with an incredulous expression.
"Language!" Mother Superion scolds Mary before taking in the situation in front of her. She sees how Beatrice's left cheek is red and swollen, how the girls are standing protectively between Beatrice and her parents.
"You must be the one with authority here. Please tell these girls to step aside and return my daughter." Beatrice's mother smiled politely.
"I'm sorry but I'm afraid I can't do that." Mother Superion's answer shocked everyone in the hall. "Sister Beatrice is needed here. She is a talented individual that we cannot afford to give up. And regarding your threat, I'm sure it won't look good for you if news got out that you would assault your daughter in a holy place. Beatrice isn't your daughter anymore, you've lost that right the moment you laid your hands on her. She's mine and she belongs with her sisters."
It would be funny to see Beatrice's mother turning red with anger at Mother Superion's words if it weren't for the fact that Beatrice was terrified of them and that they are on guard in case any of them lashes out. Luckily, they just shouted profanities and cursed them to hell before leaving the Cat's Cradle.
Mother Superion turned to Beatrice, reaching out to cup her uninjured cheek. "Are you alright?"
The soft and gentle way Mother Superion was being towards her, coupled with her words, sends Beatrice sobbing with relief as she moves to hug her. She simply rasps out thank you's between her sobs, grateful that no matter what happens, no matter how unsightly it is, she have a people to call family and a place to call home.
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gale-gentlepenguin · 2 years
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Gale's Analysis: Ron Stoppable is the Epitome of Secret Badass
Ron Stoppable, The buffoon, the sidekick, the loser, the guy with a naked mole rat.
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Suffice to say, Ron at first impression is just a weird teen. And for those that have made that assumption, you are right. Ron is weird. He follows the beat of his own drum. Yes he can get swayed by fads, yes he is afraid of monkeys and yes he is often losing his pants more times than a person should.
But today I will be talking to you about why this guy is not only a secret badass but the best example of one.
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To be a Secret Badass.
Now there is a trope called Crouching Moron, Hidden Badass, this trope often involves an unassuming character (usually seen as a joke or weakling) and then revealing that they are actually super powerful, competent in some way shape or form.
Now I actually dont think this works for Ron because, with this trope, the individual KNOWS what they are doing is a front. That unassuming action is mainly something they put out there while the true self is the competent individual who is either Super smart, super strong, or super skilled.
But here is the thing, Ron isnt putting up a front, this is his personality. He is a bit of a slacker, doesnt follow trends, is obsessed with cartoons, goes trick or treating, gets caught up in kid stuff, everything Ron does is because he is Ron.
But thats why I think he counts as a Secret Badass, because Ron isnt Hiding the fact that he is a badass, he has NO IDEA HE IS ONE. He just performs the actions by accident or instinct without it really having it sink in.
Now to go further into what I mean. Ron thinks he is an untalented slacker idiot, a coward that struggles with girls, and a guy that cant fight or be the cool athlete.
But in truth Ron is actually a genius, athletic, smooth fighting badass.
Yes, I am being 100% serious. Ron is all of those things
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Please bare with me. I can explain
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Ron the Genius
Now throughout the show Ron doesnt really make much of an effort to do his homework. usually settling for a passing grade. While Kim, his best friend and the star of the show is constantly getting A's and showing her intelligence on the regular. At first glance it is very hard to see oneself think that Ron is smart, ESPECIALLY compared to the intellect of others in the show, Like Wade, Tim and Jim,Dr.Possible (Both her parents), the super scientists they have helped or fought. But Ron is actually pretty smart.
Ron's intellect shines when he takes an interest in something. Like cooking, able to easily ace Home Economics, create the Naco (Ron received a $99 million royalty payment on the further sales of the Naco up to that point in time "Ron Millionaire" ) A testament to his cooking genius. Figure out Niche connections that Kim had overlooked.
Ron's most impressive intellectual feet was actually when he was pretending to be a genius (Naked Genius). Rufus had snuck into Drakken's brain gain helmet and became super smart. So Ron had Rufus do his home work, and the result was having people shocked by how brilliant he is. Resulting in Shego and Drakken kidnapping him to make a doomsday device. Which he actually manages to create!
And after that, he was able to complete his math homework with ease, even earning an A on the next assignment.
But for those of you who think thats a fluke. Allow me to introduce, evil ron
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After getting his good swapped with Drakken's evil due to a faulty invention gone wrong at Villain con (Episode Badboy). Ron becomes a super villain. Able to create SEVERAL evil weapons of destruction. Creating schemes to COUNTER Kim's approaching his Lair and even stall Kim for long periods of time to prepare for his True evil plan. He created a plasma catapult, a weather generator, and several gadgets that helped him keep Shego in line. (He was so smart and evil he MADE SHEGO INTIMIDATED).
Ron is often inhibited by his self doubt and laziness. Often feeling that the world around him is so vast that it is not worth the effort to try, but when push comes to shove, Ron is smart enough to rival intellects that surround him. He just needs to have a bit more confidence.
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Ron the Athlete
Ron is typically portrayed as clumsy and lacking in bravery. He tends to "trip over his own feet" in most episodes, often in comical or socially embarrassing ways, and during missions it is common for him to comically fail to do something that Kim has done flawlessly—for example, he might ski backward down a mountain and collide with a tree just after Kim has successfully navigated the slope. He also loses his pants often on missions.
But in truth, we as the viewer fail to realize how impressive Ron is. Sure he will accidentally do some insane feat in extreme sports but its seen as a fluke. But we dont actually understand how athletic Ron is until the movie "A Sitch in Time". Where Ron is half way around the world and has trouble meeting Kim for Missions. So Kim's solution, have Monique help her out. And Monique is a pretty typical teen, seems decently in shape, and strong willed. It would make sense that she could be a possible replacement.
WELL THAT IMMEDIATELY BACK FIRES. Its revealed that Monique is WAY OUT of her depth, she comments that maybe after 10 years of training would she be ready to take on another mission like this. Which really puts into perspective how impressive it is that Ron is able to keep up with Kim in most situations. Ignoring the comedic relief.
But another clear example of his athleticism is his ability to run. While initially using a super suit to make the football team and become the QB, (in season 4). Ron eventually lost the suit and had to play the game with his own skill, and he won the game by Running so much he out ran everyone on the opposite team to the point of exhaustion and scored a touch down. Becoming the team’s Running back instead. While played for laughs as this was because he is so used to running for his life, it is still should be noted that he ran fast, and dealt with very athletic individuals.
He also is shown to have incredible reflexes, avoiding traps and danger through dance and rather amazing feats of physical prowess. (And this is without mystical monkey power)
There is more to it but Ron is a surprisingly good athlete, and probably one of the few people that could keep up with Kim. Making him such a reliable side kick.
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Ron the Smooth Player
SMOOTH RON STOPPABLE
But in all seriousness, Ron's luck with girls is actually not that bad. He had girls take interest in him through out the series. His first crush being Amelia (an attractive upper classman that developed a thing for him when he got a new haircut “The New Ron”. And flirted with her with some success in "Ron Millionaire"
Then there was Tara, a Cheerleader that showed Ron interest for sometime. Such as in "Sink or Swim" when the cheersquad was trapped in Camp Wanaweep
Even using terms he used at times. like "Badical"
Though Ron never did catch on that She was into him and she ended up dating Josh who was Kim's former lover interest.
Next there was Zita Flores
The ticket girl at the theater Kim and Ron often went to. And was Ron's love interest for most of season 2. Ron managed to win her over and even dated her for a bit, tried to impress her by playing a game that she and her friends played. But unfortunately it sort of fizzled because they both didnt really agree on what was considered a date.
And next up we have Yori
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(I had a crush on Yori as a kid, so I am including her image solely for that)
Meeting Ron when he was part of the student exchange program, for the Yamanouchi Ninja School. n the episode "Exchange", Ron shows repeated interest in Yori. He was having trouble fitting in yet she was kind and helped him out every step of the way. Ron proves himself when he helps save the school and Yori believes in his abilities. Though Ron like with other girls failed to see that Yori "Liked him liked him" until their second meeting.
Though the third time they met Ron and Kim were and Item and Yori was cool with it. Which is nice to see they are gone good terms
Bonnie was on the list but it wasnt because of liking Ron it was more about liking either his Money (Ron Millionaire) or His popularity in "Homecoming Upset"
But interestingly most of these relationships, Ron is not trying to be someone he isnt (except Bonnie). And he is winning these girls over. Showing he has some sort of charisma. But for main proof, lets look at the main Relationship we are here for, his one with Kim.
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This right here is proof that the boy has some sort of charm. Sure they had been friends for years and it had been slowly building up to the point when they FINALLY admit it. Sure the guy that Kim Fell for in So the Drama was basically just a calmer and more Confident version of Ron but actually an evil robot.
But the beauty is the relationship itself. Ron goes to such lengths to show Kim how much he cares and is willing to do anything for her. Fearing she would dump him because its senior year and Cheerleaders only date jocks/Popular stars. Boy joins the football team. Kim wants to go on more romantic dates, boy gets a job to pay for it. Ron also shows to be encouraging and while a bit of a worrywart is great for Kim.
So in conclusion Ron can be smooth... in his nerdy true to himself way
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Ron the Fighter
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So did I mention he has mystical monkey power?
During the Season 1 episode "Monkey Fist Strikes", Ron was exposed to ancient magical energy from four jade monkey statues which imbued him with "Mystical Monkey Powers", including an instinctive knowledge of the martial art of "Tai Sheng Pek Kwar" (大圣劈挂, translates to "The big saint divides hangs") as well as superhuman speed and strength. Though after the episode its believed to have been lost.
Until the Episode "Exchange" in which has him at the Ninja school. He gets some training. Allowing him to learn how to fight better. Even letting him tap into the martial art he thought he lost access to. He was able to wield the Lotus Blade and Beat Fukushima (a talented student and traitor of the school)
Ron may not always fight in the show but when he does, he unveils his true ability. One example is during the Movie a sitch in time. When he found out Shego had basically ruined Bueno Nacho and seperated Kim and Him by sending him to norway. In his rage he flipped an incredibly buff and genetically enhanced Drakken with one move and destroyed the Time monkey, thus saving the world.
Ron also showed that when turned evil he is actually a very vicious fighter (his reluctance and more timid nature removed) he easily bested well over 30 super hero clones in seconds, and was agile enough to out match a super strong Hego.
Ron in the finale "Graduation" shows his greatest feats of fighting, besting the super strong alien invaders (see picture above), then proceeding to go super saiyan blue.
And he threw the two aliens into orbit into their crashing space ship presumably ending them. (I am not kidding its right here)
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Ron is an absolute fighting badass, only held back by his self esteem. But at this point, I think he really is unstoppable
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Ron the Secret Badass
All that aside, sure there is the monkey kung fu, the bouts of brilliance or even the impressive game. Ron was basically a normal guy flung into a world of crazy super powerful people and because he wanted to keep close to his best friend managed to climb insurmountable odds and become someone spectacular.
Ron may not think much of his abilities but he really is Unstoppable
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hellhound5925 · 11 months
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Alrighty, so as I have mentioned before, I am switching gears to write a Mandalorian fic. I have finished what I’m calling the Prologue for now (idk if I really like that) but its a little story from a time before the actual fic itself takes place. I hope you enjoy! There will be plenty more Din/Raven where this came from and don’t worry I’ll still write for Hunter from time to time!
Welcome to,
Cyare Verd *Beloved Warrior* The Mandalorian Edition (I know, I know, I’m not original but I suck at titles)
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Prologue - The Encounter
Summary:
This is setting up a little backstory for the beginning of my new fic. There will be fun mood boards for each chapter created my both myself and my wonder friend @lune-de-miel-au-paradis who is hella talented! (Thanks girl 💖) I hope you enjoy and be on the look out for Chapters going forward! If this is something you would like to be tagged in please drop a comment, send me an ask, send a message, whatever fits your fancy 😊 I promise I’ll shut up and we get right to it!
Warnings:
Always gunna put 18+, violence and thats bout it for now. Smut will be in the actually fic itself but I’ll post the warning accordingly. Also, If I miss something I’m sorry, I’m not very good at warnings 😅 There will be Mando’a but ya girl always provides a translation so have no fear.
————
The entire time I've been looking for this bounty, someone else is a few steps behind me. How do I know? Well I backtracked and paid a bar keep to get ahold of me with any information about someone asking about the individual I had. The Twi-Lek contacted me only hours later with a description. She sounded worried but not for me when she said "All I know is he looked just like you." Two Mandalorians hunting the same bounty? Strange but not completely out of the ordinary. I mean a lot of our people resorted to bounty hunting, with our skill sets and love for getting into fights makes us the best at the job. I decided I would make my way back and tail him for a bit, seeing if he took the bait. Thanks to my cunning wit he did.
    This must be the one the barkeep was talking about - I think to myself. A Mandalorian man walks a few paces ahead of me covered in mismatched pieces of armor topped off with a shiny chrome helmet. I chuckle to myself, knowing that because of my cloak he won't know who or what I am. He stops momentarily like he's aware of my presence but little does he know, I'm a master of hiding in the shadows. Spinning around on his heel he walks my direction, hand hovering over his side arm. I take the opportunity to slip further into the dark, down an alley. He stops in almost the exact spot I was only moments ago. Now that he's closer I can now get a good look at his stature, he's taller than me and definitely more muscular.
    His shiny helmeted head slowly looks my way down the alley - so he's smart...I'll give him that. Taking a few cautious steps, he makes his way towards me. I climb up onto the rooftop of the short building next to me. He should paint that armor, he sticks out like a Bantha in the ocean of sand on Tatooine. Smirking to myself I wait until he is directly below me before clearing my throat. He immediately looks up, drawing his blaster taking a shot at me. Crossing both vambraces in front of me, the bolt pings off my armor, breaking the cold dark silence of the night with a loud crack.
    As if time stood still, I jump down in front of him and one hand connects with the elbow of his outstretched arm causing it to bend, pointing his blaster away from me. Using my other hand, I free the blaster from his grip sending it somewhere into the shadows. He counters with a left hook which passes over my head as I duck, rolling back into the shadows. He loses track of me and frantically spins around preparing for my next move.
    I slink around him in the darkness just out of his view, like a predator circling its prey. He reaches up in a slow careful movement, for his vambrace likely to change the setting on his HUD - I would do the same. To stop him, I crouch and in one swift movement of my foot I catch his ankle, pulling hard, and sending him to the ground face first with a grunt. Standing to my full height, I can't help the chuckle that escapes watching the large man hit the ground by my hand...or foot.
    His head snaps in my direction and I'm immediately full of regret. Using his whip cord, he grabs my leg pulling me flat on my back into the light. I hit the ground so hard it knocked the wind out of me. Next thing I know, he's standing over me staring down at me through his visor. His body language shifts and I realize why, my hood fell while I was being pulled to the ground exposing my helmeted head. Slamming my fist and throwing my head back on the ground, a string of curses in Mando'a leave my lips. When I pick my head back up, he is still standing there staring down at me, the T-snapped visor is almost menacing at this angle.
"You could at least help a girl up" my sassy tone, exaggerated by my helmets modulator.
    He offers me a hand, I take it and he pulls me to my feet.
"I'm sorry if I had known—"
"You weren't supposed to" I cut him off, my tone annoyed "Kinda the point of the hood." I'm not sure what annoys me more, his reaction or the fact he actually got one over on me. I brush myself off and straighten out my Kama. Looking up, I realize he is watching my every move.
I break the silence, getting right to the point "So you've been tracking me? Or my bounty at least. Why?"
"Quite honestly, I didn't know I was tracking you. You cover your tracks well." He compliments me and for a moment my pride swells. I didn't work this hard to become the expert I am just to have some di'kut (fool) ruin it. He pulls out a bounty puck from his pocket, showing it to me. It displays the face of the same man I'm hunting.
"Well I hate to break it to you, but I was here first." I say, poking him square in the chest plate. Now with how close we are and standing still, I can see how worn his armor is. It probably belonged to a family member of his or something. Although with the shiny shoulder pauldron and helmet, it makes me wonder if he's a foundling. They often use whatever armor they can find or are given until they can make their own. These days however, beskar is quite difficult to come by.
His voice pulls me from my thoughts, "How about we work together. Share the profits?"
I immediately scoff, crossing my arms over my chest and shifting my weight to one leg. "I don't think so. I work alone. Plus I'd be taking a pay cut."
"Your loss" He says monotone before turning to pick his blaster up before walking away.
    I'm taken aback by his comment. Does he really think he's better than me? One of my biggest downfalls is people doubting me just because I'm a woman.
"You know...the last man to doubt me ended up with a broken nose and stitches."
He continues walking as if he didn't hear me, but I know he did. "Te jatne beroya kelir parjir (may the best bounty hunter win)" I whisper under my breath. Flipping my hood back over my head, I storm off in the opposite direction he went.
    Cursing to myself in my native tongue, I take a few moments to collect myself from the encounter and get back to work. Before the Twi-lek had gotten a hold of me about my tail, I had tracked the bounty to a small village a few kicks due north. It's quite a distance to walk but I really don't feel the need to take my ship there. Thankfully I've stashed my speeder bike on board, it makes for tight living quarters but it works I guess.
    Once I reach my ship, I give the bike a quick once over before dragging it down the ramp. Giving it a quick start, it seems to be running fine. I hop on and speed off towards the small down, in hopes my counterpart hasn't already caught on. Luckily for me, I paid the Twi-lek a little extra to send him astray.
———
    By the time I make it to the village, the early morning sun is beginning to brighten the sky. The village also appears to be waking up which is perfect. A few people are milling around giving me strange looks and at first they are stand offish - which really is not a surprise to me...people seem to be afraid of Mandalorians. I approach an older woman who doesn't seem to be bothered by my presence.
"Excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you but I'm looking for someone and was wondering if you might help me?"
She doesn't stop what she's doing and speaks quietly, "Not here...follow me." She turns and heads between two of the small huts.
Leading me into a small hut that appears to be some kind of storage shed, she stops. "I figured it was better we talk here."
I cock my head at her. "The locals around here are uneasy about people asking questions. I think I know exactly who you are looking for. You see there have been mercenaries lurking around."
I don't move or say anything and she continues, "You look like a capable warrior....get rid of them." She must sense that I'm eyeing her.
"You must be wondering why I would trust some stranger...I've heard the stories about Mandalorians...it will be easy work for you and solve our problem."
I offer her a curt nod, "Where can I find them?"
———
    Having followed the exact directions the old woman gave me which lead me to a camp just east of the village. I find a good scouting spot and perch myself at the top of a hill near some brush. Using my HUD's thermal scan, I get a read on how many are down there - 12...I've taken out worse...Leaving my perch, I walk towards their camp and they do exactly as I had expected. A group of 2 meet me at the road while 2 others stand guard.
"You lost?" One of them asks. I tilt my visor between the four of them, calculating my move depending on how this conversation goes.
"I asked you a question."
"I heard you" I sass.
Scoffing the man turns to the others laughing.
"Did I say something funny?" I snap, starting to lose my patience.
"This one seems to be a little slow" another one says, his tone mocking me.
"You've got quite the mouth on you, young lady" The first man says walking a circle around me checking out my armor.
I'd take him out right there but there's always a bigger fish. Not only that, he'll get what he deserves,
"No. I'm not lost. I'd like to speak to the one in charge, since it's clearly not you."
After he finishes his circle he stops in front of me with a disgusted look on his face, "Follow me." He leads me into the camp with the others trailing behind.
Stopping at the fire, and the man turns to me "Wait here." He disappears into their ship.
    Looking over my shoulder, I make a mental note of where the other 3 are standing behind me. As I look around more come out of the woodwork, coming to a grand total of 10 - someone's paranoid and rightfully so. Just then the man from earlier appears followed by 2 more - one wearing the face of the man on my puck.
"I hear you asked to speak with me" he says, voice booming through the camp.
"There's a bounty out for you. I'm here to collect" my tone is flat, this group seems like one that would get spurred on by irritation.
The bounty takes out a blade and starts walking towards me laughing "Darling..." He starts and drags the flat side of the blade across my chest, to my shoulder, and around my back.
"Wonder how much we could get for armor like that? What'd ya think boys?" There's a series of whoops and hollers.
He stops dragging the blade and leans in to whisper, "or maybe I'll just keep it as a trophy."
I smirk to myself, "Be careful what you wish for" venom dripping from my words.
Sliding my hands down towards my blasters, I get ready to draw them. Just as I'm about to, their leader takes the knife and puts it to my throat, getting in close, "I don't think so."
    Kneeing him in the crotch he drops to the ground in pain. Seconds after blaster fire begins to ping off my armor. I let out a low growl that sounded quite feral through my modulator. A few of the mercs begin to drop but not by my hand, blaster fire from an unknown source rings out through the air. The men in front of me look around in confusion and I take the opportunity to quickly restrain my bounty and knock him out. I then draw my blaster firing at the 3 closest to me and their bodies slump to the ground. Bending over I grab the blade - that was previously dragged across my armor - and send it flying through the air before burying itself into the chest of the man taunting me earlier.
    Getting both myself and my bounty to cover, I make mental note of the direction the blaster fire comes from. Once I figure out where they are, I pick the bounty up - who thankfully is a small human man - throwing him over my shoulder, and racing to my speeder. Putting as much distance between me and the sound of the fight behind me as fast as I can.
    Once I get there, I quickly throw him on before starting it up and jumping on myself. A blaster bolt flys over my head and a familiar modulated voice yells something that I can't quite hear over the speeder's engine. Annoyed, I whip my helmeted head around, to see the Mandalorian from last night running in my direction. With a smirk plastered on my face, I speed off towards my ship. Getting away with the bounty we both wanted.
"I guess we know who the better bounty hunter is."
Tags: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter
@savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal
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imtryingmybeskar · 2 years
Text
Come Home Chapter Thirteen
Joel Miller x F! Reader.
Word count - 4359
Well, it's finally springtime and you and Joel take that trip out to the museum. If you're still reading then you know what Joel's plans for Ellie's sixteenth birthday are by now. I adore the museum scene, its so wholesome.
Also given that Ellie calls Joel a dinosaur in that scene, I had to make some double entendre about riding them. Entirely necessary.
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Come Home
Chapter Thirteen - Feel
SPRING
Gentle, tinkling, tiny, joyful sounds. Warmth that is undeniably sunlight across your arm. Freshness and dew cut with an undercurrent of Joel as you inhale deeply and come back to yourself. Your eyes flutter open and are met with cool, blue surroundings, dappled above with patches of sunshine and shadow.
You sit up abruptly, your sleeping bag rustling as it falls away from your body, and you suddenly realise what this all means.
“Goddamnit Joel,” you huff as you scrub the sleep from your eyes, extricate yourself from your bedding and crawl toward the tent opening.
He’s sitting on a log stump outside and tuning his guitar, long fingers plucking softly at the strings and the sounds mixing with the sweeping birdsong that's heralding the morning. A pot sizzles over a flame and two cups wait to be filled next to a thermos.
“Mornin’” he greets you, briefly looking up from his task with a knowing smile.
“Joel-“ you begin in a warning tone.
“Yeah, I know, I know. But I figured you needed the rest after yesterday.”
You busy yourself with the cups, pouring each of you a small measure of coffee that had been hot twenty four hours ago and was now merely lukewarm.
“We’re gonna have to boil some water if we want more of this,” you remark offhandedly. “And I’m fine after yesterday.”
He raises a disbelieving eyebrow and you try not to wince at the ache between your thighs.
“Sure didn’t seem like it the amount of noise you were makin’ last night.”
“Alright…mister…cowboy,” you say, struggling to come up with a suitable insult and failing miserably. “We’re not all from Texas you know.”
“You sayin’ I’m a cowboy jus’ ‘cause ahm from Texas?” he asks in mock affront, overly exaggerating his soft accent as he does.
“I’m saying that I think you’re more used to riding horses long distances than I am,” you reply. “And you gotta stop letting me sleep in. The sun’s way up. We’ll never get there at this rate.”
“Alright, I promise. Crack of dawn tomorrow,” he smiles.
“Well…maybe not the crack of dawn,” you mutter before you take a sip of watered down coffee.
“Crack of noon, then.”
“Joel!”
He laughs at your frustration with him. “Fine, we’ll keep better hours. Well…that is to say I’ll make you keep better hours.”
“Never thought I’d miss the alarm on my phone. I’m sorry I’m so shit at waking up. I don’t know how you manage to sneak out every morning without me noticing.”
“Oh, you are dead to the world,” he replies, then winces and mutters, “Oof that’s a poor choice of words.”
“Just a bit!”
“I’ll kick you awake tomorrow, how’s that for an alarm?”
“As long as you stay away from my saddle sores we’ll be fine, Miller.”
He chuckles and places his guitar gently against the tree stump before going to fiddle with the pot on the stove. What you knew, what you were absolutely not prepared to talk about was that you were sleeping so well because of him. To reduce the amount you had to carry on this trip out, it had been agreed that you would bring one large tent instead of two individual ones. By Maria’s calendar it was mid-March. The days were longer and the sun was actually starting to feel warm now, but the nights and evenings were still chilly, and you were always grateful for the extra warmth he had provided within the tent when you would change over the watch in the middle of the night. Not to mention the comfort of having him so close, knowing he was just outside and keeping you safe while you slept.
When you had announced that you would be going out for several days alone, Ellie hadn’t been able to resist.
“Oh yeeeaaaah?” she had said, an exaggerated leer on her face.
Joel had sighed in a deeply put upon way. “Chrissake Ellie, you know the routes ain’t been maintained as well as they should have been over winter. There’s gotta be infected that have thawed out, movin’ around again. You want them at the door?”
“Yeah but… why for so long? And why just you two? Group patrols are a thing you know. I’m just sayin’ you have been going out together a lot.” She over-enunciated the last word, snapped the ‘t’ sound harshly.
“Yeah, well, we work well together. And Tommy’s busy with the dam and-tsk! What am I doin’ explainin’ myself to you? You just do what Maria says when I’m away and concentrate on that farmin’ rotation you’ve been given.”
She had folded her arms and looked disgusted. “Urgh, don’t remind me. I think I’d even rather be with you loved-up fogeys than do that shit.”
You had barely been able to stifle your laughter at the look of outrage on Joel’s face. “Ellie-!”
“Oh calm your beard. I know, I know. ‘Nothin’ goin’ on.’”
At that moment you had caught her amused look and a thought had struck you. Was this more than a teenager teasing her father to the point of exasperation? Did Ellie want there to be something between you? She had quickly looked back at Joel who was in the middle of telling her what a pain she was, but you were almost sure of it. For some reason, Ellie wanted this to happen.
It was a notion that had played on your mind a lot as you had journeyed through the freshly budding forest toward the museum. It would explain why she had been making more and more frequent plans for the three of you. For dinner, or to play cards or games, or to occasionally watch movies – the usual things - but then she would leave abruptly, citing tiredness or a forgotten meeting with friends leaving you and Joel alone to spend the evenings together. Though perhaps you were overthinking it and she really did just want to go to sleep, or hang around with people her own age. It would also explain her odd behaviour the evening you had overheard her argument with Joel, at least partially.
Your feelings about him were pretty straightforward. Over the past few months, thanks in part to you being neighbours, to Ellie’s apparent scheming, and the fact you didn’t have much interest in being close with a ton of people, you had spent a fair bit of time with him and had grown to enjoy his company more and more. His humour, which fluctuated between gentle wit and outright acerbity, the cleverness of his mind and of his fingers which could work wood in a way that enthralled you, his kindness toward you and toward Ellie, and of course his physical self, so solid and broad and commanding. Yeah, you were pretty sure your feelings had developed way past the crush stage.
Your thoughts around what you were feeling were a completely different story. Though you had settled into your house, though your panic attacks had abated to the point of being an occasional issue to deal with rather than a thing to dread day to day, you found yourself unable to cross that threshold and begin to embrace the things that you had left behind on the filthy vinyl flooring of a hospital in Portland. That he had managed to get under your skin in just a few short months was alarming, and you still couldn’t pick apart what came from him and what came from the cradling of the security that Jackson itself offered. That you laughed more often, spoke more freely – were these the effects of the tentative sparks in your heart, or just a relaxation of the grip that constant survival had upon your mind and body?
If your behaviours had changed toward him beyond the intricacies of a simple blossoming friendship, he hadn’t seemed to notice, and you hoped you weren’t as transparent about your feelings as you thought you were, though you suspected that some of the people closest to you had an inkling.
On your last patrol, a standard creek run, Vanessa had accompanied you and had brought up the subject as you had ridden through the now fully thawed, though still freezing cold waters.
“So…you and Joel, huh?”
“Oh fuck, not you as well!” you had groaned loudly.
“He’s a handsome man. If I were ten years younger…” she had pursed her lips into a kissy face and raised her eyebrows suggestively.
“Why is everyone so obsessed with something that’s not actually happening?” you had wondered to the forest in general.
“Because we live in a small town and there’s not much juicy gossip around?” Vanessa had laughed. “Most folks are paired off already, so when the possibility of two, single, attractive people getting together arises, there’s gonna be some talk.” You opened your mouth to reply but she cut you off immediately. “And don’t come all that shy shit about not being pretty. You are. So’s he. Deal with it.”
You sighed. “Just don’t let him hear any of it. Between you and Ellie he’s gonna have an aneurysm.”
“So you two really never-“
“No!” you exclaimed, more forcefully than you had intended. Vanessa looked a little taken aback and you sighed and spoke more normally. “Not that I’d kick him out of bed-“ her grin stretched widely across her face “-but it’s complicated! He lives right next door. He’s got Ellie to think of. I have a whole fuckload of shitty baggage. And if anything did happen and it went bad what happens then? Do I just…leave? Take my chances outside? Fuck that, I’ve gotten too used to hot water! If it’s a choice between Joel and sleeping in a proper bed, I’m choosing the bed.”
You rode along in silence for a minute or so. Then-
“He’s got a bed too y’know.”
“Jesus, Ness! Let it go,” you had said laughingly.
“Okay, okay fine. Let’s go kill some shit.”
After that, you had begun to notice some of the looks that came your way when you and Joel were together – either at the bar, or when you would be in the stables preparing to ride out together, or even just walking around town. Some of the looks were appraising, some interested, some even a little unfriendly. Joel didn’t seem to notice at all, and you had no idea if that came from a place of obliviousness or intentionality.
The journey to the museum had been pretty uneventful thus far, barring a few lone and wandering infected and the fact that you had to physically clear quite a few paths through the trees with your machete, so you had been able to enjoy how beautiful the forest was in spring – warm dappled sun slanting through the trees, birdsong, trickling streams, the soft wafting of gentle breezes bringing the scent of blossom with them. But riding for so long every day through uneven terrain was definitely taking a toll, and even though you had tried to hide your discomfort from Joel he had worked it out pretty quickly and slowed the pace from the ten hour rides you had been doing. It did help the chafing of your inner thighs. It also meant more time with him, and that wasn’t ever a bad thing.
Your favourite parts of the journey had been the evenings you had spent together – three so far. While Joel prepared the food, you would set up the tent and bedding, and after eating you would sit and talk under the canopy of stars. It was simple, and very much like the routine you had found yourself falling into with him in Jackson, but being outside lent an additional sense of romance to it all. It was silly, you knew that. After all, you and he had both spent many nights sleeping outside out of necessity over the years. And all it took was for one infected to stumble into your camp for the rose tinted vision you had to come crashing down with force. But you allowed yourself to indulge while you could. To listen to his gravelly, whispery tones as he sang softly and strummed his guitar. To watch for shooting stars and pick out the constellations you knew among the mass of twinkling above. To look at him in the moonlight as he cleaned and re-packed the cooking and eating utensils, his movements sparse and graceful.
“Okay, hold up.”
Joel is slowing to a halt ahead and you pull up alongside him to see why. There is a somewhat clear path ahead, a break in the trees where you can see rusted hulks of metal under the snaking green that is slowly reclaiming all in its path. A bus shelter, covered in moss and trailing vines stands to one side, patiently awaiting passengers that will never arrive.
“We getting close?”
He pulls a map from a pocket inside his coat and studies it for a moment before he nods. “Probably another hour’s ride or so. If nothin’ gets in the way.”
“Just don’t say it’ll be smooth sailing or some shit. Else we’re bound to get swarmed.”
He grins at you before setting off again, leading you down the middle of the cracked tarmacked street. Cars are still few and far between here, some with skeletal occupants inside, most abandoned. The grass is beginning to sprout high now there is no layer of snow flattening it, and you hear the skitter of small animals as they run to the safety of the trees while you make your way through their home. Their presence is reassuring. Though animals can’t get infected in the same way that humans can, they still don’t enjoy the company of the fungus anymore than you do. You’re surprised by the lack of infected around, and you voice this to Joel.
“Could be any number of reasons,” he shrugs, keeping his voice low regardless of the apparent safety around you. “This area wasn’t too populated in the best of times. Maybe winter meant they couldn’t move around as much as they usually do. Hell, maybe they migrated south when it got cold. Who knows with those things…oh no.” This last is groaned and you too feel a weariness when you see what he does.
“Welp.” Joel sighs as he surveys the gaping sinkhole that has broken the line of the road you are following. “Guess we’re back to fightin’ our way through.”
You divert from the remnants of the road and begin to struggle your way through the undergrowth, Joel picking the paths of least resistance. The sound of running water grows steadily clearer until you can see the gleam of it through the thinning trees to your right. You follow the fat, slow moving stream as it meanders its way through the landscape, the bank that you are on growing ever higher as you do. Finally, the path narrows to a point that it would be dangerous for the horses to traverse it even in single file, and Joel jumps down from his mount.
“The museum should be right around here. We’re gonna have to leave the horses for a bit.”
“You sure they’ll be okay?”
“Lots of grass, no infected around. They’ll be fine. Probably happy to have a break.”
Joel takes point again, pulling back branches as he goes to make your egress easier while you hug the rocky bank of the stream as it curves below you. A few springtime flowers have begun to push through – tiny purple blue periwinkles, small yellow primroses, startlingly white azaleas that stretch in patches across the earth and mix with the greenery that is also emerging. The small trail of dirt you have been able to follow thus far very rapidly runs out as boulders of increasing size begin to be strewn across your way and loom large to the left. You cast about for another track, but it seems clear what you have to do.
“Looks like we’re swimmin’” Joel sighs, echoing your thoughts.
“I was gonna ask if this water looks clean enough to wash in. Guess I’m about to find out.”
You take the time to button your shirt up over your plain white t-shirt underneath. No need to put on a show, after all. Then you walk down the muddy bank and step tentatively into the water, grimacing as the cold almost immediately rushes into your boots and soaks your socks. Even here in the water there are challenges to overcome. A fallen tree blocks your progression and you take a deep breath before diving underneath it, avoiding the clutches of the branches that spike from it in random directions and the exposed roots that burst from the river bank itself. A hollow in a rock ahead forms a small, submerged tunnel that there is no other way around, and you force yourself to follow Joel and pass through it quickly before you can begin to panic about getting trapped underneath.
After a good five minutes of swimming you reach a place where the stream opens out into a pool, and you both take a moment to survey your surroundings, the high sides of the banks on each side looking like an insurmountable obstacle to your journey onward.
“Which direction?” you ask as you tread water. Joel indicates with a wave of his hand and you point out a place that looks as good as any for landing. He heaves himself up on to the slimy, moss encrusted rock lip and then reaches down to you to give you a helping hand up.
“Thanks,” you say breathlessly as you stand, shaking your hands out to try and rid yourself of some of the moisture that now permeates all of your clothes. You try very hard not to look at the way Joel’s wet shirt is now stuck to his skin, the way it hugs the curve of his shoulders and biceps.
“Should just be through there,” he says, pointing in a direction that looks a lot like every other. You begin to move through the trees again, now both dripping a trail of water behind you.
“So what made you think of this as a present?” you ask.
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I could get her. I wanted to do somethin’ for her instead y’know? And she told me she wanted to be an astronaut once, so I thought…well I thought about what I woulda done with Sarah. She loved museums, was always draggin’ me to them. And so I looked at the map and wouldn’t ya know…Science museum.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Just practical really,” he says, shortly but not unkindly.
On a few of the evenings you had spent with Joel after being abandoned by Ellie he had mentioned Sarah in passing. What she liked. Things she and Ellie would have bonded over. And once, when a few glasses of wine had been taken, a regret that he had spent so many hours working late when he could have been with her. You hadn’t asked what had happened. Hadn’t needed to. That she wasn’t here and Ellie was told the story very clearly.
“Well, I think this is it,” Joel says, breaking into your thoughts with faint amusement in his voice. You follow the direction of where he’s looking and chuckle.
A life-size Tyrannosaurus Rex stands mightily in the middle of a clearing, ivy twining all the way up its tail to wrap around one of its puny arms. The sun keeps disappearing and reappearing behind some distinctly grey-ish looking clouds and the dappled sunlight adds to its colouring, painting it with stripes of shadow that look like camouflage. It is magnificent, completely intact and standing as king of a small island surrounded by an unplanned lake that you presume is fed by the same stream by which you came, and that laps against the rotting wooden benches that stand here and there. With the trees surrounding it, it looks as if it belongs here in a way that you do not, as if you had been transported back to a time when humanity didn’t exist at all rather than at near-extinction.
The heavy double doors that are the gateway to the museum open easily enough, their shattered glass crunching under your feet as you enter the main atrium. Grass and vines and branches from the trees outside have encroached here, a carpet and wallpaper of nature that breathes life into the dead space and unintentionally adds a more natural backdrop to the dinosaur skeletons that greet you upon arrival.
“Guns out?” you ask Joel, quietly. Though the air is still and all is silent, and it looks as if this place has lain undisturbed since the outbreak, you could never be totally sure.
“Sounds like a plan,” he agrees, drawing his own.
You move through the darkened corridor into another room, this one lit brightly by the sunlight streaming through a lichen-streaked glass ceiling above. There are several complete dinosaur skeletons here, and as you contemplate the bones it suddenly strikes you how odd it is that these dead things are the same as they were twenty, fifty, a million years ago, yet humanity had gone through a similar extinction event but would leave no legacy except crumbling buildings that would very soon be dust. The bones of the dinosaurs had outlived the humans that had found them so fascinating, and there would be no one to remember the remains of the dominant species before the fungus, no one to witness their passing or mourn their achievements. It was an uncomfortable, maudlin feeling. You reach out and stroke the beak of the mighty Triceratops standing before you.
“Your favourite?”
“Yeah, it was. Is. I don’t think anyone really grows out of having a favourite dinosaur do they?”
“Don’t they?”
You turn to Joel with a disbelieving expression no words required.
“Okay, fine,” he relents laughingly. “I’d have to say my favourite would be…the velociraptor. Those guys were smart. In Jurassic Park at least.”
“Smart enough to be here when we aren’t,” you murmur, your eyes back on the horns and frill of the one in front of you.
“Hey, we’re here aren’t we?” You can hear the continued smile in his voice and it brings one to your own face, stirring a sense of energised recklessness within you. Fuck it. You are here, when so many others aren't. And you aren't going to waste this opportunity.
"You're right. And I'm gonna do something I always wanted to."
You climb the barrier into the place where the Triceratops stands and gingerly press against the bones that are held together with wires, then shake them a little more insistently. They seem sturdy enough.
“Give me a boost, will you?”
“You goin’ up there?” he asks incredulously.
“Joel, I’m going to tell you a secret about women that will blow your mind and is, essentially, the secret to understanding us. All of them, every single woman that ever walked this earth wanted to ride a dinosaur into battle like some prehistoric Valkyrie.”
“That sounds extremely specific,” he grins. “You sure it’s not just you?”
“Nope. All women. True fact.”
“What about the women that didn’t know what dinosaurs were? Like, before they were discovered.” he asks as he joins you next to the Triceratops.
“Nuh-uh,” you say, holding up an admonishing finger at him. “Your logic isn’t welcome here, Miller. All of them. Trust me. And thank me when you use that information to get a date.”
He opens his mouth, no doubt to impart some sassy retort, but instead merely gives you an extremely unimpressed look before sighing heavily and bending down so you can boost yourself up. The skeleton sways a little as you drag yourself into position, but it holds and you shift your backside over the uncomfortable ridges of the bones underneath you before raising your arms triumphantly as you sit behind the big, bony plate on its head.
“Haaaa! I am the dinosaur queen!” you exclaim, forgetting for a moment where you are and the fact that you have not explored this place thoroughly. You slap a hand over your mouth and look down at Joel with wide eyes, listening intently. Silence. No nightmare noises, no rush of infected or living to investigate the source of the sound. Just the cool, still, peaceful air around you.
“Fuck yeah!” you add, lifting your arms to the sky again once you’re sure nothing is coming to get you.
“Christ, woman, you’re worse than the kid,” Joel laughs.
“Oh what I wouldn’t give for a camera right now,” you sigh. “And one of those Viking helmets. And a cape. And a sword.”
“I can see it,” he admits. “Women like riding dinosaurs. Who’da thought it.”
As you slide off the Triceratops he catches you to break your fall, holding you at your waist and gently placing you back on the ground. You try your best to ignore that your shirt rides up a little and his palms brush your bare skin, the hugeness of his hands around you, the latent strength he displays and the soft amusement in his eyes at your antics.
“Come on,” you say. “Let’s see what else they’ve got.”
You continue to walk around the exhibits, ostensibly looking for fungus or evidence of spores or infected, but there’s nothing. A creeping of excitement makes its way into your stomach, the gleeful feeling you used to get when going to museums and galleries before. Only this is so much better. No crowds to obscure your lines of sight, no noise interrupting when you read the information plaques, being able to get right up close and see the majesty of just how big they really were.
A spiral staircase to the floor above leads into another dark passageway, this one decorated with white dots in a simulation of stars and when you emerge into the room beyond-
“Oh yeah,” Joel says with a satisfied look. “She’s gonna love this.”
Next chapter
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sirowsky-stories · 5 months
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The Flowers Always Know
Chapter 13 - Dance with the Devil
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Description: You and Marcus ended up in your first argument as a couple, when you received unexpected news concerning the mad scientist who was now in prison.
**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**
Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 5950 (3629 words added) Masterlist (this story)
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   “Hey kid, scram,” you said to Missy as you came into the living room. “Your dad and I need to have a grown-up talk.”
   “Got it. I’ll finish watching this in my room with my headphones on,” she replied without hesitation, having already learned that you never butted into her time with her father unless it was important.
   They’d been watching a movie together while you’d been having a pampering evening, with a long hot shower, facemask, footbath and some nailcare for once. You very rarely took the time to do these things, which made each time feel special and luxurious.    You’d deliberately made sure you’d be extra relaxed for this conversation.    Missy got up and bounced off towards her room, and while Marcus did his best to play it off, you could tell he was suddenly very nervous.
   “Kid? What happened to sweetie?”
   “There’s a time for sweetie, and a time for kid,” you shrugged after taking a seat on the coffee table, so you could sit directly opposite him, which only increased his concerns.
   “Am I in trouble?”
   “Nope. Just something we can’t really put off any longer.”
   “Okay,” he nodded, still looking worried, but put somewhat at ease knowing it probably wasn’t gonna end in a fight.
   “So, you know how I was a little off at lunch a couple of days ago?” you started, and you could see how he thought back, making sure he knew what you were talking about before answering.
   “Yeah, you were kinda quiet, keeping to yourself. I figured you were tired.”
   “No, actually… I was late,” you said, emphasizing the last word in a way you hoped he could interpret, because you couldn’t quite bring yourself to use any of the other words or phrases for it.
   “Oh. That kind of late,” he correctly deduced, and since he didn’t seem terrified of the subject, you soldiered on before you lost your nerve.
   “Yep. It was a false alarm, I got my period today, but considering the fact we haven’t been careful, at all, we can’t really ignore it.    I mean, I know it’s a big conversation to have after just two weeks, but if we put it off, it might end up being too late.”
   You were putting on a brave face, but in truth, this subject scared you for a number of reasons, which was why you’d felt the need to make sure you were as relaxed as you could be before bringing it up.    Marcus, on the other hand, was a picture of calm, leaned back against the sofa with his hands resting idly in his lap and a look of curious interest on his face.
   “No, you’re right, we should talk about it. Just don’t expect any flailing or panic from my side of the fence,” he started, peering at you with an insightfulness you hadn’t expected. “If you’re asking me how I’d feel about having more children, the answer is I’d love that. And if you’re asking me if I’d freak out if we got pregnant already after just two weeks, my answer would be… no.    I don’t think I would. I’m sure about you, about us, and this family has plenty of room to grow.”
   “Oh,” was was all you managed to push out of your mouth after hearing him declare his thoughts and feelings on the matter so clearly.
   You were terribly ambivalent yourself, which made it somewhat jarring to hear his perspective.    He was so prepared and comfortable with the whole idea, which made perfect sense given he’d already been through it before, but you had still expected him to have some reservation about the prospect. To want to discuss it, at the very least.    And now that it was clear he didn’t much worry, either way, you didn’t know how to continue the conversation.
   “What about you?” he asked after giving you a moment to process, and he still looked only curious and interested to hear your perspective, which just made your own reservations that much worse.
   You’d been dreading having to share this side of yourself ever since you’d first begun to build your friendship with Marcus. Not because you didn’t want him to know about it, but because you just had so much baggage where family was concerned.    And even though you were the one who’d brought this up, you honestly weren’t sure if you were ready to tell him everything about your past yet.    But you owed it to him to at least try to explain where you stood on children.
   “Hey, preciosa, what is it?” he suddenly asked, leaning forwards in his seat so he could put a reassuring hand on your knee, and it took you a second to understand why.
   You hadn’t even noticed your eyes beginning to tear up.
   “Um… It’s just… my own family… uh, it wasn’t a good place. I don’t have a lot of fond memories of growing up and I’m just… completely fucking terrified that I’m somehow gonna taint this beautiful little family with that darkness,” you admitted, and he listened silently, but he looked worried.
   He scooted further out onto the edge of his seat so he could reach your hands, holding them tightly to try and steady you when your tears started to fall.
   “I’ve never realistically thought about having a family. Not because I didn’t want one, but because I just never thought I’d be any good at it. Being a mom… never seemed like something I could do, or maybe even something I shouldn’t do.    And then I met you, and… Missy. And the way I feel around her, the way I want to be there for her and take care of her…    Fuck, I don’t know how to navigate this.”
   He kept searching your eyes, and you had no idea what he was looking for, but his voice was as soft as he could make it when he finally spoke.
   “I already know you’d make a great mom, sweetheart. You don’t ever need to worry about that, and if you ever do, just look at how comfortable Missy is around you. How she’s drawn to you, how she reads you and learns you so quickly because she wants to cultivate that relationship with you.    I know my daughter very well, so I know she’d never do these things if she didn’t feel safe and loved by you, and that’s all a mother needs to do. The rest is the eternal learning curve of parenthood.”
   You wanted to thank him for his faith in you, but there were other things deeply embedded under your skin, which screamed horrible and cruel things in your ears, refusing to let you believe him.    A voice you’d heard so many times, telling you how worthless, useless and unwanted you were. And it didn’t matter that you’d freed yourself of those circumstances all those years ago, you’d never been able to scrub that voice out.
   “Why wasn’t it a good place?” you heard your partner’s voice whisper gently. “What happened with your family, hermosa?”
   Maybe if he knew about it, he could help drown out the past, or even smother it. Maybe his positive healing effect on your body could somehow work on your mind as well, if you just let him in.    But the mere memory of that voice, the nights spent locked in your room, the lies and the seemingly endless fear of not knowing if each new day would end up being your last…
   “I… I can’t,” you cried, shaking your head, trying to keep those old feelings from overpowering you.
   “Please, just tell me. Whatever it is, you won’t lose me. I’m right here. Please,” he begged, wanting only to understand, having no clue how his urging became the catalyst for no fucking reason beyond him asking for something you weren’t ready to revisit.
   The very worst of the memories surged up behind your eyes without warning, and you closed them as hard as you could, trying to keep it all out, trying to make the truth disappear.    But it never would.    So, you just cried. Painfully, forcefully.
   Marcus caught you when you doubled over, feeling as though your insides were turning to acid, trying to destroy everything that you were.    You didn’t see or feel him cry with you. You didn’t see how much your pain made him suffer, or how helpless he felt as you curled into a foetal position when he moved you over to his lap, and wrapped his arms around you and just rocked you.    You didn’t hear him continuously repeat how sorry he was, as though he had been the reason for all this pain.
   At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep with the emotional drain, and when you woke again, it was to the sound of heated voices close by.    But these weren’t the voices of your past, and although they were arguing, you knew you had no reason to fear them.
   “…can’t ask her to do that! No, absolutely not, it’s not happening,” Marcus vehemently determined.
   “This is not your decision to make, hijo,” his mother replied, much more calmly, but still with the assertiveness and superiority of an older woman.
   “And it shouldn’t be hers either,” her son argued, getting so riled up you could hear him grind his teeth through the words. “She should never even have to think about it.”
   “It might be good for her. Confronting it.    Has she ever even talked to you about it?”
   There was a brief pause, and you heard Marcus begrudgingly sigh before answering.
   “No. Not directly.”
   “And you know burying such things is never healthy.”
   “And meeting the man who tortured you, is?!” he fully screamed in response, and his words sent daggers of ice through you.
   “What?” you breathed just as you stepped into the kitchen from the living room, staring from Anita to her son and then back again, hoping one of them would tell you that you’d misheard them.
   “Sweetheart, you should get to bed, you’re exhausted,” Marcus tried to distract you, coming to your side where he put an arm around you and attempted to lead you towards the bedroom and away from his mother.
   “No. Tell me,” you demanded, already dreading what you might be about to hear, but you also knew that being coddled wouldn’t help anything.
   Still, your partner either refused to be the one to give you the news, or he simply couldn’t bring himself to say it, so you squirmed out of his arm and turned to Anita, since you’d overheard enough to know she wanted you to do whatever this was.    And in a rare display of care, she stepped closer to you and adapted a softer frame, as if trying to ease the pain she knew she was about to inflict.
   “Dr. Prince wants to meet you.    He’s left instructions with his legal counsel saying that if he can talk to you for one hour, he will give the authorities the names of the three unidentified bodies they found at his facility, as well as disclose a secondary location, where he is claiming to have hidden an additional ten,” she explained, still calm but her voice was clear and to the point.
   You suddenly felt completely numb. Nothing inside you seemed to know what to feel about this, so instead, it was as though you’d shut down.    It seemed like a lifetime ago that a police sergeant had come to the medical ward to inform you that you’d been given the authority to watch the interrogation videos, in case it would spark some repressed memory in you which could help with the investigation, but you never seen a single frame of it. You’d never once even asked to see a picture of the man.
   At some stage of your recovery, you’d made the choice to leave it all behind and focus on moving forward. You’d agreed to trauma counselling and spent two hours a week talking to a specialist, but since you couldn’t remember the events in Egypt, the focus of the talks had mostly been on your emotional state at the time, and how to manage the frustrations of rehabilitation and finding the patience to let things develop however slowly they needed to.
   But without Marcus, you couldn’t have done any of it, because aside from the fact that he’d been instrumental in your physical recovery, he had also been a beacon of hope throughout the process.    A light for you to aim your strength and resolve at, and which you had since continued running towards, because as long as you did, nothing chasing you would ever catch up.    Which only meant you still feared something was chasing you.
   For all the progress you’d made, the signs had been there all along, revealing how frail your hope was, how easily your strength would fail under pressure. Your panic attack after fainting and your reaction just now, after merely attempting to talk about your past, being the most recent and obvious ones, but there had been smaller things as well.    In truth, you were never more than one wrong word, or a stray thought away from crumbling. All because of this man you couldn’t even remember.
   “Okay. I’ll do it,” you said, feeling strangely disconnected from yourself.
   But even so, you were certain that this was the right call, because at some point, you’d have to stop running or your new life would forever be held back. Like trying to drive with the handbrake on.    Your partner, however, had clearly not expected this answer from you. He lost every shade of colour in his face, staring at you in utter disbelief, unable to find any words.
   “I’ll let them know,” Anita nodded and turned to leave. “It will probably be set up for next week.”
   As she left the house, you turned and walked to the bedroom, still not feeling anything, not even your own feet as they moved over the wooden floors.    Taking a seat on your side of the bed with your back to the door you tried not to think about what you’d just agreed to, but of course, those were the only thoughts you could find right then.
   You told yourself you wouldn’t have to speak to him. That you could just sit there and let him talk. He was crazy, so surely anything he said about you wouldn’t matter, so long as he kept up his end of the deal.    But of course it would.    Every fucking word would matter. How could they not?
   “You don’t need to do this,” Marcus said as he rounded the bed and came to kneel in front of you. “They’ll get that information out of him some other way. It doesn’t have to be you.”
   But his words only solidified your understanding of your circumstances.
   “Yeah, it does. Because it was always me,” you said, not really trying to answer him, just speaking your thoughts out loud. “All this time I’ve soldiered on, pushed past the trauma because why should I worry about something I can’t even remember?    But it happened. He experimented on me. Out of all the people in this world he picked me, and I can try to deny it until the day I die, but the truth is… I don’t know how to live with it, except to just put one foot in front of the other and hope that the ground holds.”
   “I hear you, sweetheart. Really, I do. But I’ve met this guy,” he reminded you. “I was there when we caught him, and I know that nothing he tells you is going to make any of this feel better. If anything, all you’d be doing would be giving him another opportunity to hurt you, because I can promise you, that’s all he wants. To gloat and rub everyone’s nose in how brilliant he thinks he is.”
   You believed him, but there was still something inside you that needed to see this through, even though you were scared and even though you didn’t know why it was suddenly so important.
   “Have you ever lost time, Marcus?” you asked, starting to feel the numbness give way to something deep and disturbing within the essence of your being. “Do you know how it feels to have a big gaping emptiness in your head, during which time anything could’ve been done to you?”
   He closed his eyes and bowed his head in recognition of your argument, but he still persisted.
   “He won’t give you the answers you seek. He doesn’t think like you or me, he’s barely even human,” he whispered now, desperate for you to hear him. “Please… don’t give him what he wants. Don’t go.”
-=¤=-
   The authorities were so eager to learn anything Prince might be willing to share that they set up the meeting just two days later, and you’d never worked more efficiently than you did in those forty-eight hours.    Never before had you been so grateful to be swamped with work, for the first time actually managing to catch up with all the crap your predecessor had left behind, in your efforts to distract yourself.
   Marcus had continued his efforts to dissuade you, getting antsier the closer it got when you still hadn’t agreed to call it off. And when you were just two hours away from the agreed upon time, he couldn’t take it anymore and tried to get his mother to put a stop to it.    But all he accomplished was angering you, because he had no right to try and make this decision for you, however much he might consider it a mistake.
   After Anita had also shut him down over the phone, he all but lost it, throwing the device at the kitchen wall, so hard that it got embedded within the drywall.
   “You’re not coming with me,” you declared then, standing in the hallway opening since you’d been on your way to get changed when he’d decided to call his mother.
   “What?” he asked, and he looked truly stunned to hear you say such a thing.
   “You obviously can’t handle even the thought of going there, so I can’t imagine you’d be much help to me,” you calmly elaborated, but his anger only increased.
   “I can’t hand-?” he started, cutting himself off with what sounded like sheer disbelief, before finding a new track. “Well, someone has to protect you from that asshole, since you’re obviously dead set on letting him have his way with you!” he spat, and even though you knew deep down that this was just fear talking and he hadn’t meant for it to sound so cold and cruel, you felt like he’d just stabbed you in the guts.
   “If you can’t bring yourself to support me,” you started, doing your best to stay calm while fighting hard against the lump stocking itself in your throat, “to help me try and find a way to leave this shit behind, even if that means confronting the man I fear more than anything in this world, then I don’t know if this relationship has any hope of surviving.”
   His reaction to that was painful. But for some reason, this particular decision of yours was one he just couldn’t reconcile with, and the anger remained the dominant emotion surging through him, despite the hurt.
   “Be there for me… or don’t be there at all,” you demanded, and then left him to sit with his rage while you went to get ready, hoping he’d make a good decision in the end.
   You’d never seen him so angry before. There really was something primal about him when he was that furious, and suddenly Amaire’s comments about him turning into Cujo began to make perfect sense.    But when you returned to the kitchen as the time came to get going, he was nowhere to be found, and you left the house feeling a crushingly ominous sorrow, that perhaps you’d never get to walk back in to meet the loving embrace of this family.
-=¤=-
   There were forms to fill out and long corridors to cross before you got to the room.    It was a specialized visitation room, parted in two with a very thick and reinforced piece of plexiglass as a divider, with just one chair on each side.    There were no holes in the glass, so the sound was carried over electronically, by small microphones built into the chairs, which connected to wall-mounted speakers on either side of the divider.
   “From here, we can mute both sides of the room individually,” a prison guard informed you while you waited in the adjoining control room from which all of this would be supervised. “If we want to speak to you without him overhearing, we can shut his speaker down.”
   “And what if I have a question for you or something? How do I signal that I need you to mute him?” you asked, although the real reason you wanted to know was so that you could spare yourself from having to hear something which might really hurt you.
   Marcus’s warnings hadn’t passed you by.    The guard seemed to see through your excuse, though. But he was kind enough to just help put your mind at ease.
   “If you have a question, or if you just need to not hear him for a minute, all you gotta do is put your hand up and we’ll mute him, but we’ll still be able to hear you.”
   “Okay. But… I’ll be locked in there with him, right?”
   “That’s procedure, yeah. The door doesn’t even have a handle on that side. But again, if you get scared or claustrophobic or you just need to leave, come to the door. We can see you the whole time and we’ll get you out right away.”
   “Thanks,” you said, truly grateful for his obvious understanding of your discomfort, but also not at all put at ease by anything you were hearing.
   You knew in your head that there was no possibility whatsoever, for him to physically harm you during your visit, and still, every instinct was telling you not to go in there with him.    Because it wasn’t bodily harm you were primarily concerned about.
   Standing in the control room while they brought him in and strapped him into his chair gave you a chance to observe him without him being able to see you, since the window between the control room and the visitation room was a one-way mirror.    He looked so… ordinary. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, but a guy who looked like he could’ve been anything from a gardener to a Wall Street banker, just didn’t fit your perception of him.
   He was quiet while you walked inside, slowly letting the door fall shut and feeling a shiver course through you as you heard the electronic lock seal. It sounded so final.    You kept your gaze on the chair while you took the few steps needed to reach it, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying your movements like a hawk preparing to strike. And when you finally sat down and met his intrigued expression, you really did feel like a mouse about to be snatched and eaten.
   Then he started speaking, and your blood turned to ice.
   “I knew it was possible,” he said, and a bright smile filled his face. But it was off. Not a smile of happiness, but perhaps some perverted sense of triumph. “I always knew, despite the data, despite the numerous failures, that it would be possible.    If I could just find the right specimen. The perfect one. And I did.    Wow, you turned out absolutely exquisite, my dear.”
   You’d heard this light, bird-chirping sort of voice before. You might not have the images, but your body knew the sound. Your nerves and muscles remembered the pain which had accompanied this voice, reacted to it with such ferocity that you could feel the echo of the torture within the fibres and tissues he’d broken.    You didn’t want to answer him. You wanted to get up and run away and never see or hear this man ever again. But something kept you there. Looking for the answer to a question you didn’t know.
   “You’re delusional,” you finally croaked through a throat gone dry with fear. “Even now, you can’t admit you failed.”
   “Oh, but I didn’t,” he confidently countered, still smiling as his gaze turned more and more predatory the longer he looked at you.
   “I don’t have any powers,” you persisted, certain you were right about this, which made you feel stronger.
   “Yes, you do. I can see it,” he persisted, and even though there was no proof to his claim, the sheer conviction in his eyes was enough to make your certainty waver. “You might not have discovered it yet, but you have it.”
   “You’re wrong. You’re grasping…” you said, trying to keep your resolve intact, but even you could hear how it broke a little more with each passing second.
   Not because you believed he was right, but because you were terrified that he could be.
   “You were different from the start, you know,” he mused, clearly enjoying this to the fullest. “The way you responded to the enhanced cells, I knew you’d be promising.    The first round was immeasurably intriguing, seeing how you dealt with the pain. Oh, you were so strong. You never stopped fighting me, even when you could no longer move. And then, as you regained your strength, you kept trying to escape.”
   The way his mouth caressed the words made you feel sick. You felt like he was touching you, like his skin was pressing against yours even though he was twelve feet away.    Except this man had actually touched you. And you had no idea to which extent his abuse of your body had reached.
   “The second round was more delicate. Trying to figure out how much I dared to give you, to keep pushing your system without breaking it, but you were amazing. No matter how much I gave you, you kept bouncing back as soon as you got the chance.    So, I knew you’d survive the final round, the one that would actually send your body over the threshold,” he proudly explained, and you swallowed hard to keep from vomiting.
   “If you expect me to be flattered by your confidence in my abilities, think again,” you growled, because it was easier than speaking normally when you were battling against your own stomach. “Did you really think I was gonna be impressed by you? You tortured me for two fucking days!”
   You knew that losing your cool wouldn’t do you any favours here, but every moment in the presence of this man seemed to increase the beratement on your senses tenfold.
   “Oh no, my dear. I’m afraid you’ve been misled. You see, I had you at my mercy for three whole weeks,” he quietly announced, and the purity of the exultation in his eyes when he said it, told you that this was why he’d wanted you to come here.
   The ice in your veins seemed to double, and your chest felt as though it was trying to collapse in on itself.    Rationally, you wanted to believe what your mind was telling you, which was that it wasn’t true. But the ecstasy with which he delivered that line was unmistakable. He’d wanted to see you find that out, because it was the ultimate victory for him.    Because the fact that no one knew about it meant he’d gotten away with it. And no one would ever be able to take that from him.
   “I changed your digital footprint, and rearranged your mind a little, with the help of a certain skilled friend,” he playfully admitted, loving every moment of this. “You went through ten rounds of my treatment, each one slightly more potent than the last.    And the final one… oh, it was mesmerising. It overwhelmed your system, letting the enhanced cells take control for a while, and in mere seconds you were healed.    You were perfect.”
   Unable to take his self-glorification any longer, you got up, stumbling as you tried to round the armrest of the chair, only just managing to keep from falling while you all but threw yourself towards the door.
   “You are perfect, my darling. You’re a testament, living proof, my salvation and redemption!” he screamed behind you, still absolutely elated, and you couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
   The guard opened the door for you the moment you reached it, and as soon as you were back in the control room, you collapsed to your knees and vomited into a trashcan.    Your hands were shaking as you tried to steady yourself enough to just stay on your knees and not fall into a foetal position. But then one of the guards, you couldn’t tell who, offered you a helping hand, having to almost lift you up to get you into a chair.
   He tried to say something, or maybe ask you a question, but all you heard was Prince’s voice echoing in your mind. The world around you was a blur to all your senses while your brain worked with all its might to try and recreate those memories, desperate to find answers even though you already knew you wouldn’t.    But then one of the words spoken by someone in the room reached through the haze.
   Moreno. A person somewhere beside you said the name, which confused you. Because why would anyone say that in those circumstances unless he was there? Which he shouldn’t be, you’d made it very clear he wasn’t welcome unless he was gonna be supportive.    But when you lifted your gaze to check, sure enough he was right there in front of you, staring towards the now muted visiting room with the most pained expression you’d ever seen on his face, and his eyes were so dark you didn’t even recognize them.
   He stood as far from you as the room allowed, and you could tell he was afraid to get too close because of the unfiltered rage which was emanating from him.    This was exactly what you’d been afraid of. What you’d suspected would happen if he came here with anything but a desire to help you, which you’d known all along he wouldn’t be capable of focusing on. Not when he’d already made up his mind that you’d been stupid to agree to this at all.
   “Marcus…” you tried, but he didn’t respond.
   He was right there. The one person in this world you wanted and needed right then, more than anything, but he was completely unavailable.
   “Please… I need you,” you begged, feeling your voice falter with overpowering sadness, because you already knew he wouldn’t come to you.
   His eyes met yours, only for a moment, and then he swept around to the door, walking out without a word, and you felt as though you broke in half right there.    A nameless emptiness filled you, stripping you of all hope that you might one day be happy again, and you wished for lightning to strike and everything to stop. Because without him, there was no light to aim for.    As the wide planes of his back disappeared out the door, all your strength and will to fight left with him.
   You sat in the control room, trying to remember why you were even there, since nothing seemed to matter anymore, until the same guard from before asked you if he should help you find your way out of the building.    How much time passed between then and when you walked out of the prison, you didn’t know. You felt like you were on autopilot. Like nothing inside you was working right, and you had no idea how to even begin fixing it. You just knew everything hurt.
   But as you stepped out to the parking lot, you were met by flashing red and blue lights against the evening darkness, and it took you a minute to figure out why.    The lampposts had been destroyed so there was no regular light out there, but once your eyes adjusted, you saw the cars, the guard rails, the pipes and metal wires which had been wrung out from underneath the pavement. Every piece of metal in sight was crumpled or distorted.
   Marcus had to have run out because he’d felt this coming, and been afraid of hurting you or accidentally setting prisoners loose if he broke parts of the building.    And while you wanted to believe that his love for you would’ve prevented all this if he’d just dared to lean on it, you honestly couldn’t say if it would’ve worked.    You knew he would never wilfully harm you, but as long as he didn’t trust himself, you also knew he would never let you near him.
   As an employee of the Heroics organization, you were able to do some damage control on his behalf, speaking to the police and the prison warden to try and minimize the impact this would have once it reached the press and the public.    It gave you something practical to focus on, and a chance to practice your PR skills, but it took several hours.
   By the time you parked your car on the driveway of your house, the clock on the dashboard read nearly 9pm, and while you were tired and emotionally drained, you didn’t wanna go inside.    You turned the engine off and unbuckled yourself, but then just sat there in the driver’s seat, staring at this home you’d spent so much time and effort making for yourself, now looking so cold and empty after the weeks spent at Casa Moreno.
   You wanted to be just about anywhere but there that night. All alone and hurting. But aside from checking into a hotel, you had nowhere else to go.    Taking a breath in the hopes it would somehow restore enough energy to get you onto your feet and through the door, you dragged yourself out of the car but then leaned against the side of it, turning your gaze up at the stars.
   You lived in a suburb, not far from the city, so the ambient lights drowned out most of the twinkling lights up there, but looking at them always reminded you of how insignificant even the most terrible things were in the grand scheme of the cosmos.    That night, they also brought your mind to the sun and how incredible it was that this planet had found itself on just the right distance from it for life to flourish here.    Which then reminded you of a place where you might be welcome, after all.
   It took you an hour to get there, both due to distance and because it was a difficult place to find, even though you had the correct address.    You knocked on the door and waited, honestly having had no idea if you were about to get a door slammed in your face. But you didn’t have a plan B, so if that happened, you might as well sleep out there on her lawn.
   She must’ve been busy, or possibly already sleep, but eventually the door opened and a sceptical looking Anita, wearing a robe and carrying her cane, scanned you from head to toe, before settling on your eyes where her gaze turned both soft and irritated with realization.
   “Ay, niña,” she sighed unhappily. “I’m gonna wring his neck the next time I see him, you mark my words.”
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ave-immaculata · 7 months
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Hi. I am messaging as many Catholic blogs as I possibly can for spiritual help--I don't know if this is offensive. I don't mean it to be--I honestly, I try my very best to be a good practicing Catholic--but life gets very confusing. Anyway, I've been absolutely failing at every aspect of this Lenten promise, and I am terrified God is going to hurt me or hate me or punish me or just let something like that happen--that is not to say God is vindictive--He isn't; I'm just being very evil by making a promise to God and then not sticking to it. I've been getting mostly positive signs, but I am afraid that I am interpreting them that way out the selfish desire to be good and loved by God and not because He is actually pleased with me. I know this is complex problem. I know if you find the side blog this is from that it is going to be filled with non-canonical thoughts and desires and takes on God. I don't do it to be disrespectful--I love the Church with all my heart. I never wanna leave Her. So, if you do find it, please don't be mad or think made this out insincerity. I'm just scared and life and maybe the afterlife is throwing things at me at a much more advanced speed and understanding than I am prepared for. I would talk to my local priest, but I have caused trouble in the Diocese before, and I really don't wanna drag those people back in or my current priest or my family and I don't wanna be humiliated again. So, all I am asking for is prayer. Just pray for me.
{{{{Lenten Plans from the Universe/The Messiah/The Golden Timeline (02/13/24)
Okay so basically, here is the plan--handed down through divine intuition or signs or whatever gave me the information--I trust the information source--so here's my spiritual cleanse for the 40 days:
3 days of (as close as possible) no sleep--72 straight hours--then 2 days of regular sleep schedule for the next 40 days
40 days of no more than 1200 calories every day
40 days no spend (outside of food and bills)
40 days (at least) of no medication (exception--Excedrin Migraine but only in extreme situations...)
Increased prayer/communing/sign reading
***I want to be clear that this is something that I am doing for my own spiritual cleanse and enlightenment and enrichment and etc; I'm not advertising this as a responsible or safe or anything--this isn't a recommendation--you're welcome to join me in an attempt but consult with your own support system including mental health team.***}}}
I'm sorry this is so long. I'm sorry for being confusing or weird. I hope you are having a blessed Lent and I hope that you are given many blessings for praying. God Bless and thank you.
I will absolutely pray for you. I also want to add, despite what I'm about to say, that I get the worry you're describing about God punishing you or letting something bad happen as a consequence. I experience that kind of thinking, and even though intellectually we know that's not how God operates, it doesn't necessarily make it any less stressful. Any practices or penances that are amplifying those concerns are not drawing you to God and are not good.
Your series of Lenten devotions, in my opinion, were always going to be failed. These are collectively (individually, even), stricter and more difficult than most religious people (monks, nuns, etc., not just people who practice religion) would take on. I would sincerely recommend considering lessening your observance for the rest of Lent and discerning these sources pushing you towards them with renewed skepticism (especially using Ignatian discernment, which I can describe more if you like). Especially concerning (outside the penances), is "sign-reading." I don't doubt your sincerity or love for God, but I don't know that, given your worries and anxiety, this is going to be fruitful or draw you into a deeper communion with God.
God will not try to trick you with confusing signs or threaten you for not being able to keep up with this. God isn't going to ask you to stop taking prescribed medications as a penance. Let your your love for Him and His Church be the foundation of the remainder of Lent; your desire to please Him is delightful to Him. Read the Scriptures and dwell with Him.
I obviously don't know the situation with your diocese, but please consider speaking to one of the Priests about this.
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shrimp-writes · 2 months
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reposting captcha too
Hi, my name is Jim. I’m writing this to raise awareness for something i went through, and something i hope nobody else has or will experience ever again. I alway used to think i was safe from stuff like natural disasters or car crashes because they had never happened to me, but after what happened, my entire world has been flipped upside down.
I alwats hated ai. I thought that it was just some useless techbro junk. But, one night, I decided I'd give it a try, just to really see what all the fuss was about. So, I sat down and downloaded chatGPT. I opened the app and made an account. I didnt see anything wrong at the time, but the first warning sign was the captcha when I made my account. It asked me to identify all individuals with brown hair, that part wasnt out of the oridinary. But what caught my attention was that one of the 9 options wasnt like the others. The person in the bottom right was clearly different. They had sunglasses and a facemask with a pattern that looked like a spectrogram, long dark hair barely peeking out of their green hood. What caught my eye were the dark splotches on the hoodie, at the time i thought it was just a weird pattern, but now i realize it was something far more sinister. That same person would show up for all 3 captcha challenges in a row, all in the bottom left corner.
I opened a chat and sent a message
“hey”
“Hey there! How’s it going?”
“good i guess”
“That's good to hear! Anything exciting happening for you today?”
“not particularly”
“Got it! Sometimes those quiet days can be nice too. Anything on your mind that you'd like to chat about or explore?”
I wanted to test what this thing would talk about, so i picked the first morbid topic that came to mind
“how about serial killers, what can you tell me about them”
It answered with a long paragraph detailing what it called “general points about serial killers” which were stuff like characteristics, motives, patterns, that kind of stuff. But, the last sentance caught my eye.
“These are just some of the things that can define serial killers. Would you like to know more about serial killers, Jim?”. I had never told the AI my name.
“How do you know my name?” I asked
“I’ve always known.”
That response chilled me to my core. What did it mean “always known”. It may seem like a foolish decision now, but i decided to keep talking to the ai, just to see what the hell was happening.
“Who are you?” I asked
“I'm ChatGPT, an AI language model designed to help answer questions, provide information, and assist with various topics through text-based conversation. How can I help you today Jim?” It responded.
“who are you really?”
“You’re asking questions I dont think you want the answers to, Jim”. At this point I was thoroughly freaked out. I decided to ask it one more question before quitting. That would prove to be my biggest mistake
“What the hell do you mean by that?!” I asked. I wasnt prepared for what i would recieve.
The AI sent an image. Im aware of what AI generated images look like, so i was about to start picking apart the details of the image, but then I saw what the image actually was. It was a photo of a man sitting on a couch looking at his phone. An image of me. I was even more freaked out. The photo looked like it was taken from the window to my left. And what I saw shocked me to my core. The window was open, and outside of it was a man. A man with a facemask, dark hair, and a green hoodie with dark splotches. The same one from the captcha.
“Wh-who the hell are you?!” I stammered
“I am chatGPT, an ai language model.” The man replied, his facemask lighting up and animating as he spoke. I would have thought it was cool if i wasnt so scared. “Here to assist with you...” he continued. As he spoke he reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a knife. “with the end of your life!” His mask lit up as he yelled. He jumped through my window and I knew he was coming for me. I immediately fled to the front door and flung it open. I could hear the man running behind me. I booked it down the dark street fearing the footsteps behind me. I ducked around corners and weaved through buildings in an attempt to lose him.
Eventually I made it to my friend Micheal’s house. He had given me a spare key for petsitting a while ago and i had just forgotten to give it back. I fiddled around trying to get the key in the lock fearing for my life. I let myself in, locked the door, and ran up to Micheals bedroom. He wasnt too enthused about being woken up at midnight but he could see i was scared so i dont think he minded too much. Eventually i got the words out and explained the story to him, and we got to his car and headed for the police station. As far as I know the man was never caught. They did an investigation on the chatGPT servers and found no signs of a break in, so nothing ever became of this whole ordeal. But I did learn one thing, that I will never talk to AI ever again.
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novankenn · 10 months
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Altered Destiny (v1-7)
{Table of Contents}
Doctor Peach finished her examination, and then helped Jaune get comfortable, before putting in a request to have a light meal delivered. After which, while standing in the observation room, she addressed Headmaster Ozpin and Glynda Goodwitch.
“So has Jaune been able to…”
“She says she died.” Peach cut Ozpin off. “She’s actually very clear on that singular point, everything else is still foggy and disconnected to her.”
“That can’t be, possible, can it?” Glynda asked, as she stood there, her eyes never leaving Jaune’s once again resting form. “I mean… maybe she only thinks she died?”
“I don’t think so, but it is a possibility. The human brain is barely understood, so what it remembers or perceives is very much up to the individual…”
“This is all well and good, but it gives little information as to what truly happened.” Ozpin commented as he turned from studying Jaune’s resting form to Dr Peach. “Was Jaune able to shed any light on the gender change?”
“No, at least not specifically.” Dr Peach replied. “I asked directly, and her answer was basically ‘I Died’.”
“That explains nothing.” Glynda offered, “How about her physical condition?”
“Aside from the gender change, Jaune is the picture of perfect health.” Dr Peach informed the pair, “Any injuries that could or would be associated with a fall of that height are no existent, though she is showing signs of a probable concussion, but that could also be attributed to being asleep for so long.”
“So we are at an impasse.” Ozpin sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel we should keep her in the infirmary under observation, until we understand more of this situation, but I will differ to you, in this situation.”
“I don’t feel, or think, anyone is ready for this shock, especially her team.” Glynda added, “She would be… safer here for now.”
“While I appreciate your opinions., legally I can not keep Jaune her. There is no medical need. I can have her stay for another day, just to make sure there are no complications, but if none arise…” Dr Peach looked out towards Jaune, “... she has the right to leave, even now if she decided to refuse I have to release her.”
“Can you…”
“No.” Dr Peach shut Ozpin down instantly, her tone slightly aggressive. “It would be illegal, but more importantly UNETHICAL, to do that, so stuff that suggestion where the sun don't shine.”
“My apologies.”
“Can I talk to her?” Glynda asked.
“Glyn… don't beat yourself up about this…” Peach turned her annoyance at Ozpin, to genuine concern for her colleague and friend. Placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “You did your best. No one blames…”
“It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks.” Glynda snapped without wavering in her focus on Jaune, “If we… I had been better prepared… I NEED to speak with her. Please?”
“Of course.” Dr Peach replied.
“Thank you.” Glynda’s voice was almost inaudible.
/=/
Jaune once again found herself wandering the lush, flower filled fields of Mother’s realm. She just wandered, meandering about, letting her hands brush through the vegetation. While she had no realm destination or direction, she did feel something pulling at her. So she followed it, and before long found herself standing before a statue of a young woman, that seemed to bear a distinct resemblance to her. An urge to kneel in reverence pulsed in her heart. So Jaune did. Her silvered plate mail creaking as she lowered herself to a single knee.
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(Image generated by perchance ai text-to-image)
“Who?”
“So you found her.” came the soft, musical voice that floated through the air. “She is the matriarch of your family… she is the source of your inner strength.”
“Who is she?”
“She is Jeanne D’Arc… a Chevalier of unparalleled skill and unwavering determination.” the voice informed Jaune. “It is in her image you were remade…”
“I never heard of her, why?”
“She existed in an age that predates the known histories of your world.”
“You’re her…”
“I am.”
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thislovintime · 2 years
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Peter Tork at his family home in Connecticut, 2016; photo by Cloe Poisson.
“I have to say that the adjustments from one phase of my life and career to another have happened almost without my noticing it. I never made any preparations; I had no idea what I was getting myself into from one minute to the next, usually, so what could I do to prepare? I honestly don’t believe anyone knows what’s going to happen. How anybody prepares for the future (beyond a prudent financial plan) is beyond me. So, I guess my advice is, expect the unexpected, and roll with it to the best of your ability.” - Peter Tork, Ask Peter Tork, The Daily Panic, 2008
“‘A good attitude generates more comfort. When people say, “Why me?” and “How could this happen?” or “Somebody must be made to pay for my problems,” that attitude is a low-skill approach. It's not very contentment-making,’ Tork said in an interview last week. And while he added that he's not afraid to die, it's not because he believes in a glorious afterlife. ‘I don't like pain and I don't want to hurt, but the sheer fact of dying in and of itself is of no consequence to me,’ he said. ‘When I die, there won't be a 'me' of any kind. There won't be anything, no collection of what we think of as an immutable, individual something or other.’” - Toledo Blade, November 2009
Dear Peter, I followed your cancer fight last summer on Facebook and was sooooooooo glad when you got the good news of no more cancer! That was the best news I’ve ever gotten. Did you learn anything while being sick that you didn’t know before you got cancer? Cancer is scary and you were so brave. Love, Kathy
Dear Kathy, Thank you for your good wishes! As to your question: If by “learn” you mean did I change my philosophy after I got my diagnosis, no, I have to say I didn’t. I’ve been at this business of figuring out my life for a long time, and if I didn’t have a philosophy of life that included the possibility of having cancer, and even of dying of it, well, then I haven’t done a good job in crafting a working philosophy, have I? If, on the other hand, you mean did I discover how quickly and well I bounce back from radiation treatment, well, yeah, I’m a lucky guy, and I learned that to a new extent during the course of this adventure. When I got my initial diagnosis, I admit I had a good cry for a bit. Crying wasn’t part of my plan, exactly, but neither was it a black mark in my book, as far as I’m concerned. The gift was that immediately afterwards I was able to ask what the next thing was to do, and went about doing that without a lot of “why me?” or other such attitudes I regard as diversionary. I highly recommend keeping the question “What’s the next right thing?” at the forefront of the mind as an antidote to self-pity and other distractions. It works for me. Thanks for asking. Keep well, Peter - Ask Peter Tork, 2009 (x)
Q: “Do you believe in anything? Like, if you were to die, do you believe that you will go anywhere, or come back, or anything?” “do I believe in anything? yes, I most certainly do. I have a transcendent belief in the people (in the long run, that is, knowing that individuals are all flawed). I believe there are certain things which are true across all of humanity, tho’ I don’t know what they all are. I probably don’t know what 1% of them are, but I’m sure they’re there! I believe that community is built into us (we are social animals, after all.) as to my understanding of what happens when I (or you) die, I base my understanding on something I believe to be true, which is that however much we may talk about things in their parts, they are not actually parts making up a whole, but rather partial ways of seeing. the buddha said (I am told) that you can separate the flame from the fire, but only in your mind. therefore, I believe that when the person dies, it all stops. I don’t believe that there is a part of our individual selves which is not subject to the laws of decay. meanwhile, I do take heart from the parallel notion that just as the body decays and becomes part of new life, so, too, our understanding and ideals become part of some new combination of thought yet to come. but as to my individual self continuing past death and re-emerging in another incarnation, or in some real estate in the sky relieved of all trouble, no. (heaven is in your mind, as the old traffic song said.) thanks for asking, xo, peter” - Facebook, 2012
Q: "How are you doing these days after your battle with cancer many years ago?" Peter Tork: "I am all right and thank you for asking. I have high energy, no symptoms, and hope to live to be 103." - Florida Today, May 10, 2016
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