#brain well developed by the time I reach surface

[themasterpupil]

fam I came here with a full head of hair, I was ready for the world 🌍

[lilliumrorum]

What does he have that I don't? (Part Two)

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Synopsis: After getting comfortable in your captain's dwelling, you experience a dream involving him, intensifying your desire for the man.

WC: 3k

Content/Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Soft Price, fluff, Cheating, kind of pining?, Wet dreams, Masturbation.

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post, I've had lots of fucking issues with tumblr and I am proper pissed off. Exams have been kicking my ass too, but I'll make sure to write an extra long chapter next time!

In this situation, unlike others, you wouldn't yearn for Simon's touch. The absence of affection from him for months has built a resistance to missing that once addictive sensation. Tears welled up once more as you reflected on the abuse endured just to cling to the shattered fragments of your 'relationship'. Desiring a different reality, you found yourself in a challenging situation, torn between lingering feelings for your lost love and developing admiration for your captain.

Concluding the scorching shower, the realization struck that a towel was forgotten. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you pondered how such a simple thing could be overlooked. An uneasy hope lingered that the captain remained undisturbed in his slumber, as a preemptive guilt surfaced. The idea of waking him up intensified that internal conflict, leaving you in a contemplative state after the steam had dissipated. Standing there, damp and hesitant, you grappled with the consequences of a neglected towel and the possibility of disrupting your captain's peace.

Your hand unlocked the door, cracking it open just a bit.

"John?"

"Mm?" His deep voice echoed from the couch.

You felt a sense of relief upon realizing he wasn't in bed yet.

"I… may have forgotten to grab a towel," you admitted with a nervous tone.

You heard his soft footsteps moving down the hall and passing by the bathroom. As soon they approached the room you made sure to narrow the crack of the open door, ensuring you wouldn't accidentally flash him. A sturdy silhouette stood behind it, holding a towel. Cautiously peeking around, you gently retrieve it from his grasp.

He stared at you for a moment, gazing at your damp hair and shoulders before seemingly snapping out of it.

"Don't make my floor too wet, Sergeant." He said with a breath before trekking back to the couch.

You slowly closed the door, releasing a heavy breath you didn't realize you were holding. It felt as if butterflies had been swirling around in your stomach, cheeks burning like fire as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. The butterflies were nothing novel; in fact, they were a constant presence. Every time you worked near him your heart fluttered.

The salt-and-pepper mustache that quirked up when he smiled made your heart do flips. His hands, aged yet firm, with thick fingers calloused from years of service made you fantasize about what they would feel like inside you. The quick waves you received when he walked past you, his combat pants fitting him just right made for an easy distraction. Doing paperwork with him late at night presented itself a challenge. Your brain was constantly fuzzy whenever you looked at him.

At this point, you couldn't distinguish whether it was him making you shudder or your own nakedness. The stark contrast in temperature from your shower to the chilling air heightened your eagerness to get dressed. The towel rubbing against your skin brought a soothing sensation to your mind, interrupting your thoughts about him.

"You did so good f'me, lovie. Such a good fucking girl." He praised, slowly pulling out of your fluttering cunt.

You whimpered at the feeling of being empty after being stuffed full for so long.

"I love you, Simon." you whispered breathlessly.

He gazed at you, searching your eyes for some sort of hidden plan, or trickery. He found nothing but adoration.

"I love you too." He whispered as he got up, searching for the towel he had placed somewhere, you reached out and gently wrapped your hand around as much of his toned arm as you could before he moved too far.

He glanced at you, his expression filled with curiosity.

"Si, can you promise me something?"

"What is it doll?"

"Don't leave me."

"What kinda promise is that? I'm never gonna leave you. Hell, I'm stuck on you."

You smiled at his words.

But he broke that promise. He left you, a ghost in his place.

"Captain, is it alright if I get dressed in the bedroom?" You uttered your words with a delicate tone as you stepped out into the hall.

His head shifted in the direction of your voice, his attention lingering on your legs briefly before his gaze ascended to meet your face. He stared at you for what seemed like an eternity. Your posture started to shift as nervousness crept in, especially with his eyes on your barely covered body. He seemed to take notice, offering a smile before he spoke.

"Of course dove, that's where you're sleeping anyway." He spoke with a tone that held weariness.

"Oh no you don't ha-" as soon as you spoke you were interrupted.

"I said that's where you're sleepin' and that's that. Don't argue with me, sergeant." He commanded.

You raised your hands in the air, signaling surrender, before letting out a laugh and walking back to his bedroom.

The scent of everything was reminiscent of him, when you opened his closet, the aroma of cinnamon and pine struck you instantly. You breathed in his scent and felt a bit more at ease. Why did everything about him have to evoke such a strong sense of comfort and familiarity?

If you didn't move past this childlike crush soon, you'd end up with more issues than you're already grappling with. He could be your father for Christ's sake!

You shook your head, as if the thought would dissipate, while grabbing some pajama shorts and a tank top. The clothes were rather revealing, but John would surely understand if he saw them. Your intention was to return home to Simon, not to him. When you left, there was no time to retrieve your clothes, as you aimed to escape the situation as smoothly as possible.

Your body ached for sleep, going without it for what seemed like ages.

Turning the light off and slipping into bed, a subtle shift occurred in your thoughts, and the image of John began to weave its way into your consciousness like a gentle melody. In the calm moments preceding sleep, his laughter echoed, and the warmth of his gaze painted the canvas of your contemplations. The memory of John intertwined seamlessly with the comforting embrace of his sheets, creating a space where the lines between reality and the fanciful dance of imagination became hazy. With each closing of your eyes, dreams unfolded, casting John as the silent protagonist in the tales that quietly unfolded in the realm of your weary mind.

In the silent corners of your thoughts, dreams took shape, painting a picture where you were romantically involved with John. Scenes of stolen glances and hidden meetings unfolded, with the forbidden nature of it all adding an exhilarating edge to the fantasy. In these vivid dreams, shared moments created a connection that surpassed the ordinary reality surrounding you. However, these fantasies were kept as a personal refuge—a brief escape within the private chambers of your mind, where the blurred lines of possibility flirted with the edges of longing.

"Tell me what you want, dove. What do you need from me?" he breathed in a solaced whisper.

His rugged hands worked at your body, roaming across your naked form as you tried your hardest to utter a word, mumbling nonsense. He hadn't taken your panties off yet, the cloth becoming more and more wet by the second.

"Words, sweetheart. I need to know what you want from me." His fingers teasing your clit in soft, circular motions.

"John- Oh shit! I need them inside! Please!" You practically sobbed.

Everything in this moment completed you. His waist was stationed between your legs as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. At this point you were a whining mess for him. You were too distracted with your pleasure to realize he had pulled your panties to the side, thick fingers lined up with your sopping hole.

"God, you're perfect."

The captain's eyes snapped open upon hearing sounds emanating from the bedroom. Initially thinking it might be crying, he knocked on the door once.

With no response, he opened the door to investigate, finding you helplessly whimpering and pressing your thighs together in your sleep.

He was well Aware that intruding was not right, but he lingered a little longer, drawn by the sweet serenade of your voice. Going back to bed at this moment seemed impossible for him. His cock straining against his pants as discomfort grew, urging him to address it promptly.

He treaded back to the couch, every step carrying an enduring strain to his crotch. Fuck, those noises were driving him wild.

He knows it's not right, yet he pulled out his erection anyway. He needed relief, blood rushing to the tip as it sprung out of his pants. His arousal was yearning for a momentary reprieve.

He groaned as he started fisting his cock, guttural groans coming from his chest as he chased his release. His eyes fluttered closed, Imagining you spread out for him, begging for whatever he could give you. Your pretty body writhing underneath him while you worked in sync to reach that peak. Nails scratching at his back with each forceful thrust of his hips. He tried to stay as silent as he could, listening to the melody of your sounds. He tried to savor your sounds, prolonging his orgasm to the best of his ability. He couldn't hold it any longer, somewhat embarrassed at how fast he was going to finish.

The familiar feeling of his climax began to reach him, his lower abdomen flexing harshly with each stroke.

"Fuck"

His sticky cum flowed over him fingers as it spilled out from his twitching tip.

This was wrong, but god did it feel so fucking right.

Throughout the night, Simon couldn't shake the image of your shocked and saddened expression from his thoughts. All he longed for was to have you back with him at home. Who the fuck were you with anyway?

As the minutes stretched into hours, Simon's chest tightened with an unsettling jealousy. The anticipation of your return became a weighty burden, and the quiet emptiness of the house echoed his longing. He had watched you leave, hope clinging to the belief that you would soon walk back through the door. However, as the night wore on and you failed to return, that hope transformed into a bitter ache. Each passing moment fueled the jealousy that churned within him, a mix of fear and insecurity. The empty house seemed to mock his unspoken yearning, amplifying the silence that enveloped him in a suffocating embrace.

The air hung heavy with tension when Johnny left the house, the weight of your discovery lingering in the strained atmosphere. The revelation of the affair had cast a pall over the once-shared space, leaving behind a palpable sense of betrayal. The door closed with a hollow finality, echoing the rupture in trust that now defined the relationship. He laid there in your empty bed, the aftermath of your revelation settling like dust in the room, and the emptiness of the departing footsteps mirrored the void that now consumed the once-shared moments with Johnny. The silence that followed was deafening, amplifying your absence.

When you left he was still pent up with arousal, so him and Johnny went a couple rounds, but he soon had to leave to get enough rest before the sun rose. With both of you no longer present, he truly began to realize he was alone.

Jealousy gnawed at Simon as he grappled with the unsettling uncertainty of your whereabouts. Each passing moment fueled his imagination, and he found himself consumed by thoughts of who you might be staying with. The unanswered questions echoed in his mind, creating a symphony of doubt and insecurity. The image of someone else occupying the space meant for him sparked a surge of possessiveness, leaving him yearning for the reassurance that you were still his. The silent house became a canvas for his anxious thoughts, and the suspense of not knowing intensified the monster within him, clouding his emotions with a turbulent mix of suspicion and anger.

Just who the fuck did you think you were, leaving like that?

He felt his jaw clench, thinking of you with someone other than him.

Every thought of someone else near you ignited a primal instinct to claim and protect what he considered his own. The mere idea of sharing your presence with another set off a storm of dominance, intensifying his need to assert his presence in your life. It was as if an invisible tether bound him to you, and the thought of anyone encroaching upon that connection stirred a fierce determination to safeguard what he considered rightfully his.

Sleep eluded him, elusive as his thoughts were ensnared in a web of restlessness. The weight of emotions, a mix of envy, dominance, and yearning, kept him tossing and turning in the dim silence of his bedroom. The shadows on the walls seemed to dance to the rhythm of his unsettled mind, casting a surreal atmosphere that mirrored the turmoil within. The bed, usually a sanctuary, became a battleground for his inner struggles. The clock's ticking echoed like a constant reminder of the sleep he desperately sought but remained just out of reach. The night stretched on, a canvas painted with the shades of his unquiet thoughts, as he wrestled with the myriad emotions that held him captive in the wake of the events that unfolded.

Awakening to the robust aroma of tea wafting into your nose, you stretched out your well-rested limbs before swinging your legs over the side of the captain's bed. The lingering remnants of the dream from the night before clouded your thoughts, creating a palpable tension in the air. As you pondered how to navigate the interaction with him, uncertainty hung like a veil. The simple act of rising from the bed felt like stepping onto uncharted territory, and the fragrant tea served as a reminder of the shared space that had witnessed the intimate contours of your dreams. The challenge ahead lay in reconciling the vivid images of the night with the reality of the morning, as you grappled with the aftermath of the subconscious journey that now lingered between you and the captain.

You approached the bedroom door, turning the handle and stepping into the hallway that led to the kitchen. The journey down the corridor felt like a deliberate exploration, each step carrying a subtle anticipation. As you entered the kitchen, a captivating sight awaited you – the captain, turned away, engrossed in some task involving the kettle. The play of muscles beneath his skin was a spectacle, every inch defined and visible, yet soft. His silhouette painted a picture of strength and concentration, a moment frozen in time that captured the essence of his physicality. The air in the kitchen seemed charged with an energy that transcended the simple act of making tea, as you silently observed, feeling both a sense of intimacy and a respectful distance in the presence of this private moment.

"Good morning, Sergeant. thought I'd get some tea ready for ya."

You listened intently, and there was a warmth in the captain's voice as he completed the tea-making ritual. Even though you couldn't see his face, the audible smile in his words painted a vivid picture. The sound carried a gentle resonance, echoing the pleasure he took in the simple act of preparing tea. It was a melody of contentment, and the timbre of his voice conveyed a subtle joy that surpassed the mundane task. As you stood there, the audible smile became a shared moment in the quiet kitchen, a connection forged through the familiar sounds of morning rituals and the understanding that lingered between you and the captain.

"Thank you, Captain. For all of this. I owe you one."

The dual impact of your words and the vivid recollection combined to color his complexion with a subtle embarrassment. It was as if the mere mention of his title held a key to unlock a realm of thoughts he hadn't anticipated sharing. The involuntary flush revealed a vulnerability, a momentary glimpse into a private mental landscape stirred by arousal that lingered beyond the confines of last night. In that fleeting blush, a complex interplay of emotions unfolded, creating a connection between now and what he had done last night that had left its mark on the captain's waking thoughts.

"You owe me nothin', dove. Hush up and drink your tea." He uttered, handing you a partially hot cup of the chamomile beverage.

"Anything planned for today?" You asked while softly blowing on your tea.

"PT, but It's going to be different today, so don't you worry about lieutenant."

His words had the exact opposite effect on you. You were most definitely worrying about Simon.

Taglist: @ttsbaby01 @waves-against-a-cliff @konigslittleliebling @imjustheretofightforlove @beebeechaos @mikimumiki @splaterparty0-0

[ghostofskywalker]

“how embarrassing would it be if i told you i’d dreamt of this since i first met you?” prompt with Echo? 🥰

i think this actually may be the softest thing i've ever written, i hope you enjoy it :)

words: 709

@clonexreaderbingo square: "you're lucky you're cute"

clone troopers masterlist

A steady beat echoed from the speakers in Cid’s cantina, the latest hit to those in the galaxy who didn’t have to worry about the horrors of the Empire. You were humming along as you wiped down the tables and stools, glad that Cid had not yet opened for the day, so you could pretend that things were different for a little while.

Life wasn’t terrible now, but you definitely missed the view of your Coruscant apartment and the feeling of living without the haunting terror that someone was looking over your shoulder. You could have stayed with the Empire and continued your work as a mechanic without issue, but you would have never forgiven yourself for taking the easy road, so here you were. 

You sang along to the music as it became more repetitive, and it became easy to understand why this artist was so beloved among the general population. It certainly helped that their music was catchy, and it made the monotonous chore of cleaning a little bit more bearable. 

The sound of someone stepping into the parlor interrupted a slightly off-key high note (from you, not the singer), and you eyes widened as you looked towards the door to see Echo, a warm smile on his face as he clapped for your singing. “Maker, this is embarrassing,” you said, quickly bringing the unopened bottle of liquor you were using as a makeshift microphone back down to the smooth surface of the bar. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to Cid,” he said, stepping closer to you. 

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank-”

“As long as you dance with me for the next song.” 

So there was a bit of an ulterior motive here, got it. Well, if you were being honest, this was the nicest way you’ve ever been blackmailed, and it certainly helped that you had developed quite the little crush on Echo, even if he was a little bit of a smartass at times. 

You paused, pretending to think about it before putting your hands on your hips. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?” 

One of his hands grasped yours, and the other found its way to rest on your waist. As if this had been planned all along, a quiet and slow song was just starting to come through the speakers, by the same artist that you were singing along to before. “You think I’m cute?” 

Part of you wanted to play your previous comment off as a joke, but the hopeful look in his eyes caused you to finally take a chance on something that you would have never done before. “I do,” you said softly, and you watched with joy as his face lit up even more as the two of swayed to the beat. 

“Can I tell you something?” 

That was a dangerous question, because you had just put your heart on the line. Whatever he said next would determine how quickly this dancing would cease, and you didn’t want this moment to end. “Is it bad?”

“No, it’s just- I-” he said, stumbling over his words a little. “How embarrassing would it be if I told you I’d dreamt of this since I first met you?” 

This had to be a dream, because there was no way he had just said that to you. All those nights where you had laid in bed and thought about kissing him were now in reach, and it didn’t feel real. 

“It’s not embarrassing at all,” you said. 

“Really?” 

“Really. Because it means I can do this.” And before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and placed the softest of kisses on his cheek. You could hear the way his breath hitched slightly echo in your brain, and you hadn’t heard the music for some time now, because the only people in the galaxy right now were you and him.

“Wait,” he said, just as you began to pull away. 

“What?” 

“I think you missed.” A soft breath of laughter escaped your lips before you placed them on his, and it was everything you had ever dreamed of. 

Or at least, it was until Crosshair walked into the parlor and joyfully yelled that Hunter owed him ten credits. 

- the end -

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 8 - Remain

Last bit for today… thanks for the encouragement :)

(Scott and Virgil and now John would like it to be known they do not appreciate the encouragement)

First bit, second bit, third bit, fourth bit, fifth bit, sixth bit, seventh bit…

(previous story)

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

Scott paced the length of the infirmary, kicked the wall ever so lightly with the toe of his left shoe then paced back towards the door, tapped the doorframe with the back of the knuckle of his right index finger, spun on his heel and repeated the journey. He had shortened his natural pace slightly to fit in eight steps in each direction. A quiet unused part of his brain kept count, while the rest raced. Thirty seven-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, thirty-eight-two-three-four…

“Would you please sit down? You’re supposed to be keeping off those feet.”

“They’re fine.”

“You’re making me dizzy.”

“Look the other way.”

“Scott…”

“Sorry.”

There was a pause. He kept pacing.

“You know this wasn’t your fault?”

“Yep. But I need to wait for him to wake up anyway. And if I’m waiting I need to move so… Sorry.” He spun on his heel. Forty-two-two-three…

“He’s not going to wake for a while yet. It was a pretty hefty dose and he doesn’t metabolise it at the rate you do.”

Scott paused.

“Why do we keep it in such large doses?”

“Always have. Ever since… uh… before we moved here.”

For him then. Right. Well. That was… something to probe later. He started pacing again.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me? I should have been made aware of any potential vulnerability in my team.” He would stick to calm, logical arguments.

“There was a strong likelihood it was a one-off episode triggered by the extreme circumstances and would never reoccur.”

“I should have been told.” He was the Commander after all. It was a simple matter of good leadership. Nothing at all to do with any silly feelings of hurt at being kept in the dark. At not being trusted.

“Dad decided not to.”

“Dad’s not here!” Ok, calm. Calm down. Calm and logical.

“Maybe not but it’s Virgil’s medical history, it’s not my place to tell you!”

“We should all know about anything like this that we need to be ready for, that we might need to know how to deal with!” Scott stopped and swivelled to face his brother.

“Right, like we were all forewarned about the malaria, Scott?”

Ouch. John had clearly reached the level of stressed out where he started biting.

“That’s different.” He started pacing again.

“Sure it is. Because you knew there was a strong chance that would come back. For Virgil, we thought not.”

Scott reached the wall, counted forty-three and kicked it slightly harder than he intended, adding a slightly squashed toe to the list of objections his feet had about the quality of the brain they were distantly connected to. He stopped and rested his forehead against the cool surface. His heart was pounding as if he’d done three laps of the island.

“Before you say it, no, it’s not different because it’s you.”

“But if I’d known… I could have stopped it happening again. This was my doing. I should have thought… I was so wrapped up in my own feelings about it I never even considered how he might react.”

“We don’t know that the uniform was the trigger, Scott.”

Scott didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Alright, it does seem likely I will give you that.”

Silence fell for a few minutes, Scott focussed on the unfamiliar pace of his sedated brother’s breathing.

“What happened, John?”

“He developed Brief Psychotic Disorder and had a number of episodes within the space of a few weeks. After the first he was sectioned.”

“Grandma’s already told me that. I mean WHAT HAPPENED? What made it so bad he had to be hospitalised?”

“It was a long time ago and I don’t remember precisely.”

Scott turned to face John again and saw his usually unintimidatable brother quail slightly at his expression. 

“I’ve… spent a long time trying not to remember precisely.”

“I’m sorry but I need to know so we can work out how to manage this. It’s not like Virgil’s in a position to tell me.”

“No, and even if he could he probably doesn’t actually know.” John’s voice had slipped to barely audible. 

Scott walked over to where his brother sat, hugging his tablet to himself, legs wrapped tightly around the chair legs. He crouched beside him, wincing as the skin on the soles of his feet pulled at the steristrips. Rethinking, he got up and dragged a chair over and they sat side by side watching Virgil’s chest rise and fall.

Leaning to the side, Scott gently laid his head on John’s shoulder and John tilted his head to rest on top of his brother’s. Scott waited until he could feel him relax, just a little, then tried again.

“Please tell me, John.”

[robotnik-mun]

And since I am in a particular Zim-tastic mood, and I'm probably never going to use this for anything anyway, I'mma share with you... my theories/headcanon for why Irkens are the way they are, as well as the TRUE purpose of the Invaders.

More under the 'Read More' because this is gonna be a long one!

Anyway... our story begins a long time ago, in a planet far, far away. This planet is largely dry and rocky world with sparse vegetation, which the locals call 'Irk'.

And said locals? Are a people known as the 'Noyng'.

(For those of you not in the know- during Invader Zim's development, the Irkens were originally known as the Noyng!

Annoying. Irken. Gotta love how whatever the name, they’re basically being called a bunch of irritating little shits, heh.)

Anyway, back to the Noyng!

The Noyng are a diminutive, large-eyed species of what could best be described as pseudo-insects, though they defy any categorization that would be recognized on Earth. The Noyng first evolved within the maze-like tunnels that naturally developed under the surface of Irk, until eventually the Noyng emerged from said caverns to spread out on the surface, where they subsequently multiplied and thrived as they evolved.

As a species, the Noyng weren't all that different from humans- they were divided into multiple cultures with unique ethnicities and languages, had families, nation-states, religions, etc. For thousands of years the Noyng progressed as you might expect any species would, harnessing fire and then developming metal and gunpowder and the like, eventually reaching the stage when they could begin serious space exploration. All-in-all, very standard stuff on the cosmic scene.

Then, one day, something Irk-shattering happened- the PAK was invented.

The original Paks were in fact mechanical backpacks that were worn by the Noyng, with the earliest having cumbersome metal headbands connected to the PAK itself to act as mental interface, before the improvements to the technology eliminated the need for this. The PAK was originally a tool, and a very handy tool for any Noyng to have given the sheer amount of things it could do. Within a generation, Paks were so standardized that the thought of a Noyng NOT having a Pak was laughable.

Then, someone got a brilliant idea- given how useful the Paks were, why ever take them off? Why not simply graft them onto a Noyng body so that the aforementioned Noyng would never be inconvenienced by having to take it on and off, over and over. At first, this was simply an individual choice- some Noyng went for it, others didn't. As time went on though, the Noyng who got the Paks grafted grew more and more numerous, and Noyng were being subjected to having the Paks at younger and younger ages.

It is the latter practice that starts to cause controversy. The Noyng nations become split between those who feel the Pak should simply remain a tool, and those who think it should be a literal part of the Noyng. Eventually a conflict erupts, and the Pro-Cybernetics factions win, and essentially control the planet in the aftermath. Initially things are not so bad for the Un-Pak'd Noyng as they are allowed to still live as they choose... but in subsequent generations, this changes.

The cavaliar attitude of the Pro-Pak Noyng towards cybernetic augmentation leads them to consider other ways that they could improve the Noyng species, and that includes new, radical forms of government. One of the Noyng nations embarks on an ambitious new project- the creation of a new kind of Noyng, one designed for brain power and computation, further advanced through cybernetic grafting. These beings, essentially bio-mechanical computers, are eventually brought into being- The Control Brains, designed to figure out the problems of Noyng civilization and how to handle them.

The first Control Brain proves to be a massive success for its nation, leading to a more ordered and well run civilization. This leads the other Pro-Pak Irken Nations to begin building their own Control Brains, a veritible arms race ensuing to make bigger, better and more efficient Control Brains... and then, things officially hit the fan when the Control Brains, without their makers knowledge, begin to get into contact with one another. Though each Control Brain is programmed to serve its own nation, the Control Brains have a lot of leeway when it comes to interpreting how to do that... and eventually, the Control Brains conclude that the only logical thing for them to do is to MERGE the nations of Irk into one.

One world. One goal. One people.

A conspiracy is hatched, and over the course of centuries the Control Brains exert more and more control over the nations of Irk. The Noyng under their control begin to become more and more obsessed with altering themselves in order to be more 'efficient'- eventually leading them to phase out traditional means of reproduction in favor of artificial incubation and growth. Their influence spreads to those nations that initially rejected the Pak grafts, and those 'natural' Noyng who remain are increasingly discriminated against and disenfranchised.

Over the course of this plan, Irk begins to change drastically as it becomes more and more high tech and the Control Brains begin to exert more overt control. Individual governments are abolished, as are the religions of Irk. To satisfy Noyng need to belong to a higher cause, the state of Irk itself essentially becomes the secular religion of the planet. With the most widespread Nyong religion already honoring Irk itself as divine, this transition is easy. The planet becomes intertwined with the state- Irk is planetary government. The planetary government is Irk.

As they do this, the Noyng begin to insert an iron-clad form of hierarchy into the Noyng. For a civilization to thrive, there must be hierarchy, reason the Control Brains- those who command, those who serve. For hierarchy to function, there must be traits that are considered desireable, representatitive of why those who rule are worthy to rule. It does not matter what this trait is- for all intents and purposes, the Control Brains simply pull a quality out of a hat and decide to run with it. That quality? Height.

And thus the first Almighty Tallest is placed into power over the global government of Irk. A figurehead ruler, to whom all the Noyng can admire, aspire-to, and use as the focus of their worshipful devotion to the state. The Almighty Tallest is ultimately a figurehead ruler- though able to make and enact laws and given command over the forces of Irk, the Control Brains are the true authority. The Almighty Tallest is the face. The Control Brains are the brains.

In the final, horrible phase of the plan, the Control Brains then set the Noyng under their control to conquer the parts of the planet that don't already submit. To prevent division, Noyng cultures are eliminated and buried, and the non-compliant Noyng are either forcibly brought into the fold or exterminated outright. By the end of it, the Noyng are no more- in their place is the new, improved Irken race.

Irk is the state. The state is Irk. There are no nations. No cultures. Only Irkens. One world. One goal. One people. Thus is born the Irken Empire, the non-divine ‘God’ of the Irken people, and its prophet the Almighty Tallest.

The civilization that emerges from the ashes of the Noyng is a nightmare. It is the worst parts of Brave New World and 1984 put into a blender and pureed. There are no Irken civilians- every apparatus of the Irken state ultimate revolves around its military. Every Irken is a cog in a great and terrible machine, from the Almighty Tallest to the lowest of service drones. Even ventures such as fast food franchises are ultimately a branch of the Empire- there are no corporations or anything within the Irken Empire that can express any kind of independence from the government. Everything about the Empire is artificial in one way or the next, including the economy- there is no real need for money, but it is kept by the control brains as just one more thing to distract the Irkens and keep them compliant and under control. There must be those who rule and those who serve. There must be haves and have-nots. The system exists for no other reason than to perpetuate itself for all eternity. The Irken race will be unified either through perpetual conflict with the rest of creation, or through the final victory that will come when ALL of creation is Irk.

The Irkens themselves are vastly different from their Noyng forebears... they are streamlined and standardized, so to speak, and are engineered wholly to be grown in Smeeteries while being engineered for maximum compatability with a Pak. By the time of the present, even the sexes of the Irkens are ultimately just cosmetic, as all meaningful dimorphism that once existed within the Noyng is removed along with other 'redundancies'. A species born purely from tubes has no need for sex organs. The retention of these superficial differences is simply due to the nature of the Control Brains' programming requiring them to keep the Irkens as ‘Noyng’ under very strict definitions… and given the creativity of the Noyng, the day may come when even this ceases. With things going the way they are, there may come a day when the organic portion of an Irken is little more than a fleshy ball of redundant organs serving as little more than a wetware CPU for a wholly mechanical frame.

(Depending on how you interpret Zim's water allergy, it might also be such that Irkens are also EXTREMELY intolerant of pollutants due to the hyper anti-sceptic nature of their existence. Just as a human raised in a bubble never develops the immune system to fight off even minor illness, Irkens are so unused to even minor chemical exposure that they respond badly to direct pollutants, though the Pak mitigates things).

The newly minted Irken Empire thus surges outward and in all directions, conquering all in sight. While the Irkens are initially capable of co-operating and collaborating with other, alien cultures, this is ultimately just a long con on the part of the Control Brains. The famous partnership between the Vortians and the Irkens was probably meant only to last as long as the Vortians remained useful to the Irkens. Tallest Miyuki's freak accident and death were likely used as a pretext to justify the enslavement of the Vortians in Operation Impending Doom II, but the simple truth is that they signed their death warrants the moment they entered into a partnership with the Irkens.

The Irkens are not IN-Capable of co-existence with other species... but only when it is on their own terms. For most, that means subordination at best. Leeway might be granted to those that are deemed useful- the Hobos of Hobo-13 retain a good deal of relative independence, while the natives of the Conveyer Belt Planet have been incorporated as a labor force. Races that are either too stupid to be useful or are too dangerous to Irkens, on the other hand, are flat out eliminated. The Slaughtering Rat People of Blorch are one such example, being both violently aggressive and extremely dangerous to Irkens, and as such are unsuited for anything the Irkens might need. As far as we know, only the Planet Jackers exist on any kind of equal footing with the Irkens, if the treaty is indicative of anything.

By the present time, the Control Brains have things pretty firmly in hand. However, even they know that nothing is absolute, even their control over Irken civilization... there will always be Irkens who have the capacity to question things. And then of course there is the self-inflicted problem of the Irken Empire's over-engineered nature, namely that in order for an empire to thrive there need to be subjects with ambition, vision and the willpower to see those ambitions through... and the way the empire operates, those are in short supply, given that Irkens are quite literally engineered to be slaves to the machine.

But the Control Brains, ever logical and creative, figure out a way to kill two birds with one stone- the Invaders.

Invaders are a special class of Irken. They are Irkens who demonstrate the most independent thinking and the greatest capacity to work on their own without direct oversight, as well as possessing the imagination needed to blend in among aliens and infiltrate their societies while planning on ways to destroy them to make their eventual conquest easy.

In short? Invaders are Irkens who are most likely to exhibit the kind of free will that the Control Brains deem defective. The purpose of the Invaders is not simply to provide an unconventional military asset for the Empire, but to also keep track of and corral Irkens who could potentially start asking the wrong kind of questions about why the Empire works the way it does. In fairness, given the lifelong indoctrination every Irken undergoes, most Invaders don't go defective... but there is always a chance. And IF an Irken Invader begins to exhibit cultural contamination or starts asking the wrong kind of questions? Then there's a SIR unit, ready and waiting to take matters into its own hands and take care of the problem. Tragic thing really, when SIRs malfunction and kill their masters... simply TRAGIC.

And that's the story of the Irkens and the Invaders, and the terrible tragedy of the Noyng people.

[gatorbites-imagines]

If you write for him can I request Kaldur'ahm(and if not maybe Conner Kent or Jason Todd) x male reader who's kinda short and stout and is known for being a nuturing guardian type from an all but extinct alien race who's blood can heal pretty much any physical wound and even fully revive a person who hasn't reached total brain death

Maybe him and reader met while reader was being protected from people harvesting his people's blood and he asks how reader can still care for people who look like the one's who've hurt him and his own so badly and reader's just like "because they are not the one's who've hurt me."

kaldur’ahm x male reader

headcanons

I want to touch his gills so bad. This didn’t follow the request completely, but it kinda just got legs on its own, hope you still like it tho.

Sorry I haven’t been writing a lot lately, writers block has been kicking my ass and I started playing Jedi Fallen order again and it’s been taking up most of my free time lmao.

-          You met when he was on an off-world mission with young justice. There had been a distress call from a planet allied with planet Tamaran, so young justice and multiple justice league members came to help.

-          As they arrived to the planet it was mostly destroyed, the Tamarian forces doing what they could. A long battle happened, and when it was over, and the evil party was defeated. They learned during this battle that the planet had been attacked for their blood and its uses.

-          The justice league set off to work with the Tamarians to do what they could to help, whilst young justice split up to look for survivors.

-          Kaldur was the one to find you, as he swam through caverns made to protect a bunker like place. It was well hidden, but he was able to find it because it was underwater. When he got inside, he saw multiple dead or dying beings of this species, all seeming to protect something or someone.

-          Here he found you, and with a lot of patience and explaining what had happened outside and who he was, he was able to get your trust enough to bring you back to the surface.

-          When you saw the state of your home you burst into tears, and Kaldur wrapped his arms around you and held you as you sobbed, swaying you softly from side to side.

-          When all was done, you were the only survivor they found. They wanted to send you to Tamaran, but you immediately shot it down and grabbed onto Kaldur, saying you were coming with the league, and they couldn’t change your mind.

-          It took some time, but the league and people from Tamaran agreed to let you go with them, so you joined the league and young justice back to earth. You became semi-adopted by Kori and her family, as you had no one else and she could watch out for you on earth.

-          On the way back to earth, you stayed close to Kaldur, who had taken to hold your hand as it seemed to help ground you.

-          No one was surprised when you passed out against his shoulder, gripping his arm in a tight hold as if you were scared he would disappear. The Atlantean didn’t say it out loud because it wasn’t the right time, but he found you cute.

-          Arriving back on earth took some time to get used too, but with the help of young justice you were able to fit right in, luckily you looked human enough to pass of as just that.

-          Soon you were a proud member of young justice, though you mainly stuck to healing and rescue missions. Not wanting to reveal where your powers came from, you kept vials and alike of your blood. Your short and stout stature also made it so many people underestimated you, which helped you in fighting.

-          Even as time passed you still stuck to Kaldur, and you both started to spend time together alone and bonding over things like hobbies and likes.

-          Soon a mutual crush seemed to develop between you, though you were both completely oblivious to the other feelings whilst every other young justice member could see it, and tried to push the two of you together.

-          The league realized when you came to aquaman and tried in a subtle but not so subtle way to ask how you wooed an Atlantean, and Wonder woman caught Kaldur in the league’s files, looking up your planet and customs so he could try and flirt with you.

-          You had both been circling eachother for so long other members on your team were taking bets on how long it would take, and members like Wally were running up the wall with how long it was taking, when it was so obvious.

-          When you both finally confessed after a long and difficult mission, you were both surprised when your team all sighed or groaned in relief, some even calling out that finally It had happened. Kaldur and yourself were blushing as Wally handed Dick a few bills because of the bets.

-          As you finally got together, your relationship started off as very shy and slow, only small pecks and some handholding. You were both scared of moving too fast and somehow ruining it.

-          When you were caught by a scientist who wanted to use your blood and they almost lost you, the apprehension was thrown out the window as Kaldur clung to you, kissing you with as much passion and love as he could pour into it.

-          You both didn’t hear Conner wolf whistle as you threw your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as well as you could in your still weak state.

-          The entire time back to base you were wrapped around each other, you pulled to Kaldurs chest as he worried over you. This made you laugh as he was normally so calm and levelheaded, but now he was checking you over at least once every 10 minutes, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

-          After checking you for injuries once again, you leant up to kiss him on the cheek, which made the Atlantean blush and hug you close again, burying his face in your hair as other members of your team snickered at their leader losing his composure like that.

[jolivira]

DW POSITIVITY DRIVE

in case you havent seen it, theres this initiative going around by taka to share stuff we love about doctor who!

so heres my list of stuff, in no particular order:

thasmin

I could write for hours about how important thasmin is to me but to spare all of you I wanted to focus on how the ship happened on the show, how chibbs, mandip and jodie saw our love for the characters and how much we related to them and decided to make it happen for us! and ended up gaving us one of the most beautiful wlw storylines ever

series 5

the whole crack in the wall plot is so well written and so mysterious and fun, honestly for me s5 is a capsule of everything good in doctor who! I loooove the fairytale/peter pan storyline sprinkled through amy's character, the humour, the episodes, river coming back, thE VAN GOGH EPISODE????

the van gogh episode

(I thought it deserved its own topic thingy because its that good)

PRAXEUS

its such a good episode, the visuals are stunning, the character parallels are great, the humour is good, it has so many iconic lines ("did she say brains" "thats why you smell like a dead bird" "Im a sucker for a scientist"), DID I MENTION BRAZILIAN QUEEN GABRIELA SPEAKING PORTUGUESE, the episode also takes advantage of the tardis potential and we go to new places outside europe/north america, gay kiss, its just such a good episodeeeeeee

him

missy what a beautifully complex character... sillyness combined with terrifying seriousness, danger, unpredictability and tragedy, with a potential for good just under the surface. basically I really like her and I will defend her to the end of times

yasmin khan god where do I even start. I think yaz has one of the most beautiful character arcs Ive ever seen, subtle and gentle, just like her. yaz is a character that at first glance people dont really get, and youre not supposed to, slowly she grows inside of you, opens up and develops. her journey from struggling with bullying and mental health issues, to desperately looking for something important to do and then meeting the doctor, falling in love with her, repressing her feelings to then finally come to terms with it and love her life like she never thought possible before (I need to stop here otherwise Im gonna bawl my eyes out) ((but you get the gist))

just any time the doctor speaks/pretends to speak with animals, aliens that dont speak english or babies, thats my shit right there

coatless 13 in the magenta shirt (I love her so much)

anytime the doctor Fixes or Builds Things and they are surrounded with steampunk tools and helmets and shit, like yes little nerd go make something explode

this one is a bit of a cheat cause its not about the show itself! but I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who creates stuff as well as supports stuff being made here in the fandom! in special I wanted to thank fanfic writers yall are fucking incredible and those masterpieces have helped me a ton, they also truly inspire me, so yeah keep on being amazing!!

I think that's all for now at least, and if you reached the end of this enormous post make sure to make your own, go go go!

[thecleverqueer]

The more convoluted aspect of “The Wrong Jedi” arc that I struggle with is not why Barriss bombed the temple, but why she opted to frame Ahsoka for it.

Honestly, on the surface level, it makes literally no sense. Based on the few interactions that we do have between Ahsoka and Barriss, they have some sort of magnetic attraction, a clear level of respect, trust, “friendship” and understanding between them. They’re pitched as “close”, but we’re not sure how close because outside of “Weapons Factory”, “Brain Invaders” and a comic where Ahsoka is being a flirty show-off, we don’t see them interact (but as I have elaborated before, based on Ahsoka’s reaction to everything, they were probably much closer than cannon lets on). And, honestly, none of that is relevant unless Barriss is either being made into a springboard to further Ahsoka’s character development, or it somehow plays into her decision to screw Ahsoka over.

So, why frame your friend/ girlfriend?

Truly, I know what cannon says, but I’m not wholly confident that it was Barriss’s intention to frame Ahsoka.

The problems start when Tarkin calls Ahsoka over to speak to Letta at the high security military prison, and then Letta gets force choked on video while Ahsoka is in the room alone with her. I tend to think he and Palpatine had something to do with this chain of events because the sound recorder in the room was not working, and the video alone made Ahsoka look undeniably guilty. I struggle to determine if it was Barriss or Palpatine that did the force choking. Once again, I don’t think it was Barriss’s intent to frame Ahsoka. Barriss wouldn’t likely know that Ahsoka had gone to the prison in the first place. So from the start, I think Ahsoka was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Then, thing spiral… Someone helps Ahsoka escape the prison. Theoretically, Barriss could have been making an attempt to save Ahsoka by breaking her out of jail, but how in the hell did she get into a high security prison to do that without getting caught? I mean, Barriss could have mind-tricked her way into the prison, I guess, taken Ahsoka’s shit from holding, found the prison cell door key card, got caught doing all of that shit, and killed all of those clones which only served to make Ahsoka look guiltier. Bad improvisation? Still, there are security cameras everywhere in the facility. It was all on video, and there is that pesky fact that Tarkin lied to the Jedi council about how Ahsoka actually escaped. So, either way, there was an internal cover-up.

Ahsoka then makes a daring escape into the under city where she contacts Barriss twice, once on her Jedi com-link and once via holo-booth. Barriss seemed legitimately concerned about Ahsoka’s safety and well-being. Barriss, if her goal was to frame Ahsoka, fooled me by the way she and Ahsoka interacted on the calls, especially through the holo-booth call where Barriss looks as though she wants to reach out and touch Ahsoka’s face. Barriss recommends that Ahsoka go to a munitions factory to look for clues to find the real killer. Ahsoka goes. She has Ventress in tow. They fight Plo’s clones in the alleyway. Ahsoka is doing too much. She ALWAYS does too much. It is, once again, only making her look worse.

Finally, we get the scene in the munitions factory. Why did Barriss lure Ahsoka there? This is where everything gets confusing for me, and it gets really complicated for me to work out.

Up until this point, Barriss seemed to just be a willing and cowardly participant in Ahsoka’s downfall. Barriss was “the perfect Padawan”. She didn’t want to own up to her actions, but she seemed to be doing what she could for her girlfriend that was doing too damned much. Why couldn’t Ahsoka get on a ship, fly away and just drop it? What does Barriss decide to do to rectify all of this? She goes and savagely beats the shit out of Ahsoka disguised as Ventress in the factory. The fight is particularly ruthless. Granted, once again, Ahsoka is doing too much, but Barriss is just straight up barbaric in her kicking of Ahsoka’s ass. It’s unfettered rage, and I’m not sure where it comes from. She doesn’t show the same brutality in her fight against Anakin. It’s personal.

Why? Is she THAT frustrated at Ahsoka? Is she THAT upset that Ahsoka won’t let it go? Does she think Ahsoka is boning Ventress and is jealous? Does she want Ventress to take the fall for all of it, and if so, why does she run when the clones show up to take Ahsoka back into custody (conveniently where she fell right into the nano-droid weaponry)? Did Palpatine pull the string? Did he convince her that Ahsoka did something to betray her? Was it mind control? This is where better writing would have been helpful. Why is that fight happening, and why is it happening like THAT? I don’t know.

In closing, I think the framing had more to do with Tarkin and Palpatine trying to get Ahsoka out of the way, and less to do with Barriss who just clearly had no improvisational skills and was terrified of getting into trouble.

[turnaboutstevie]

The Best Day

Inspired by me listening to the best day and crying over how much I love my dad, and by my incurable TLOU brainrot, here is 2k of Joel being an amazing dad, Sarah being an amazing kid, and both of them being happy for fucking once.

Tags: No Outbreak!AU, WORLD'S BEST DAD JOEL, basically a songfic, there is a speech and I have not written a speech in 6 years so apologies if that sucks. Liberties taken with: depicting the 90s and early 2000s, the way US schools work, the amount of speech development a 3 year old should have. I used the show's timeline for the years, btw. Crossposted to AO3

PLEASE ignore any mistakes, I am disabled, dyslexic and brain foggy.

1992

The kitchen is a veritable mess, a painting set spread across the dining table, and a plastic sheet protecting the wood from staining. Sheets of A4, some wet with paint and some already dry, cover seemingly every surface. Swashbuckling pirates, beautiful princesses, dwarves and poison apples- at least, those were the artistic vision. In reality, they're mostly stick figures with splashes of colour, painted haphazardly by the very focused 3-year-old sat at the table. Sarah babbles half-coherent explanations of everything she paints, and Joel diligently labels them with a biro, sure to tell her that every single one of them is a work of art. Tommy stands in the corner, a camcorder in hand, a smile on his face as he watches his brother and niece. Sarah holds her most recent work of art up for her beloved uncle to see, the watercolour paint running down the page a little- Joel hadn't been able to get proper watercolour paper, hadn't really known where he might, so they're making do with printer paper. It doesn't absorb the paint nearly as well, but it'll dry eventually. He hopes.

Tommy squints at Joel's scribble at the top of the page- Cinderella- and smiles at her. "Belongs in the Louvre, that does." He says, focusing the camcorder on the page. "What's the L-... Louvre?" Sarah asks, taking a moment to get used to the new word. "It's an art museum, sweetheart," Joel says, kissing her forehead. "Uncle Tommy's right. You're a superstar. But even superstars need rest, or they ain't able t'shine. So let's clean you up, and then it's time for bed for you, baby girl." Sarah pouts, but her argument is interrupted by a yawn.

Sitting on the edge of the sink while Joel scrubs her hand, she scrunches up her nose. "Daddy, why doesn't Cinderella just leave, when they're so mean to her?" She asks, with all the gravity of someone asking a politician how they plan to tackle a brewing war. He hums, thinking on how to phrase this. "Sometimes, sweetheart, people are so mean for so long that the people they're being mean to feel like they have no way to get away from it." He frowns. "You ever feel like that, you tell me, yeah? I'll come and get you away. No matter what."

A few minutes later as he tucks her into bed, freshly clean, she reaches up and presses her tiny fingers into his cheek. "You're so strong, Daddy. Like Superman." He smiles down at her. "And you're pretty as a princess, baby girl." He switches her nightlight on, kisses the top of her head. He's about to offer her a story, but she's already fast asleep. He sighs, staring down at her for a few moments.

"I'll keep you safe from anythin' that might hurt ya." He whispers, promising her even though she can't hear him.

1994

When Sarah is 5 years old, Joel takes her to a pumpkin patch. The sky is grey-blue when they arrive, and he makes sure to listen to the weather report on the truck's radio before deciding whether to bring the umbrella out of the back seat. He unclips her from her car seat, and he doesn't even have the door shut before she's running off. His laugh is exasperated but affectionate as he runs after her, hurriedly locking the truck, but she's already lost in a sea of people.

Panic grips him, as well as regret that he didn't take his anxiety pills this morning, and that he didn't think to tell her to hold onto his sleeve while he locked the car so she wouldn't run off. He's looking around desperately, trying to focus more on finding her than the dangers he can see that she could run into, when he catches a glimpse of her- a flash of lavender on the other side of the crowd. Where she gets her speed, her energy, he'll never understand, but he musters his own and runs after her, into a field he's sure they're not meant to be in. Hopefully, farmers understand that whims of a 5-year-old.

He catches up to her only when she comes to a stop, clearly having exhausted her sudden burst of excited energy. He comes to a halt next to her, taking a moment to catch his breath. His physical fitness applies to manual labour, not long-distance sprints. "Sweetheart, you can't just run off like that, you'll give me a heart attack-" He begins, but when he looks down at the way she's smiling, at how her big puffy winter coat makes her look like a penguin dyed lavender, at her fascination with the way the horizon is slowly turning gold, he can't help the affectionate laugh that spills out of him, bringing his gentle lesson to a halt. Sarah glances up at him when she hears his laugh, wrapping her tiny arms around his calf and hugging tight, and he calms immediately. She has that effect on him.

He sits down in the field, among the corn, holding onto the back of her coat to stop her running off as they watch golden hues paint across the sky, fading in places into pinks and purples. He fishes his Fujifilm out of his coat pocket, holding it up to snap a photo of her against the sunset, just as she turns back to smile at him. The result is a candid snap of the grin she reserves only for him, an unreserved beaming smile that warms his heart every time it crosses her face. She sits in his lap as the sky fades to grey, falling asleep with an ease that seems reserved only for kids. They'd done none of the things she'd said she wanted to, but she seemed so happy that he doesn't mind. She's probably forgotten all of it anyway.

He carries Sarah back to the truck, putting the Snow White soundtrack into the cassette player in case she wakes up when he starts it- which, of course, she does. She sings along, quiet and groggy at first but getting louder. As he pulls into the McDonald's drive-thru, she turns to look at him. "Can we go to Snow White's house, Daddy? I wanna tell her she's my favourite." Joel smiles, his heart swelling all over again. "I'll give her a call, sweetheart. See if I can arrange it."

He saves up for months, and takes her to Disneyland for her 6th birthday.

2002

Not long before Sarah finishes middle school, she walks into the house at 4 pm on a Thursday and devolves into a flood of tears. Joel's barely been home 5 minutes, exhausted and aching, but he cradles her in his arms instantly, comforting her in soothing whispers before he even knows the problem. As soon as she's calm enough to explain what happened- how her friends decided out of the blue that they hate her, and never even told her why-he's grabbing the keys to his truck. He lets her pick the tape, and sings along with her even though he hates Atomic Kitten, because he loves her more. He drives until her tears are dry, until she's smiling in the passenger seat and rolling her eyes at his awful jokes.

The town they end up in is miles from home, and he smiles down at her when she clings to his coat sleeve while they queue at a hot dog stand, the same way she used to when she was a tot. They eat their hot dogs on a park bench, while she tells him about how Liz Hurley has just given birth, and what Britney Spears is up to right now. He listens intently, as he always does, even though he's struggling to keep up with the speed of her rambling. When they finish eating he follows her into the nearby mall, making a mental note of anything she says she likes, for birthday gift ideas. He gives her $30 and lets her buy whatever she wants, smiling enthusiastically when she drags him to checkout with a purse shaped like a guitar, a set of plastic bead bracelets and two sweatshirts. It comes to $35, and he doesn't hesitate to hand another 5 dollar bill over, even when she offers to put the bracelets back. She falls asleep in the passenger seat on the drive home, and Joel smiles to himself. She grows more every day- sometimes he swears he blinked the day she was born and ended up 13 years older with a teenager - but Sarah's still his little girl. She still needs her dad, and he's always gonna be there.

Keeping her safe, like he promised her 10 years ago.

2008- May

Joel sits on a rickety plastic chair in a rundown auditorium next to his brother, and watches his baby girl accept her high school diploma. The golden sash around her shoulders makes him swell with pride, and though he promised himself he wouldn't cry, his eyes are watering the second her valedictorian speech begins. Inspiration was the theme she'd told him when he asked, but she'd refused to let him read it. He soon understands why.

"I can talk about my literary inspirations, or my political ones, and you can nod and agree with me, but I wouldn't be doing myself justice." She says, a third of the way into her speech. "But the worst injustice would be to my biggest inspiration of all. My father." Joel's vision blurs with tears, and he's immediately grateful for Tommy's rare moment of foresight in insisting he bring a packet of tissues. "My father is my rock. My biggest supporter and my best friend. He keeps me grounded, he gives me strength. He's on my side even when I'm wrong, but he never lets me dwell in ignorance. Without him, I would never have arrived here. He's been with me through all the hard work, 18 years of painful life lessons and unfortunate regrets- but also the moments of joy and love, the things I'll never forget. He taught me to work, to endure, to keep going no matter what. And he taught me to laugh, and to love, and to find joy even in the mundane. Of all my inspirations, of all the stars I wish upon- my dad shines the brightest."

Joel might as well be sobbing, and he doesn't care a bit who sees him. He'd been worried when Sarah got accepted into Columbia, that her moving so far would create an emotional distance between them, that she'd grow up and forget about her old man. For some reason, it had never occurred to him that she loved him so much that he would be unforgettable. That she would call him her biggest inspiration... He'll be crying over that for the rest of his life. He glances over at Tommy, finding him blubbering just the same. The key difference between them is the camcorder he holds, the same one he's been using to record key moments in her life since he bought it 15 years ago. Joel hadn't even realised he'd brung it with him, but oh, he's so grateful for him in that moment.

A permanent record of the proudest moment in his life- tied only with the day Sarah was born.

2008- July

He takes her to Disneyland again, for her 19th birthday. Just a month before she's due to head off for college. The itinerary is far removed from the one they followed 13 years prior- replacing The Country Bear Jamboree with Star Tours, Goofy's Bounce House with the Haunted Mansion, the Mad Tea Party with Mark Twain's Riverboat. That evening, in the twin hotel room Joel booked, Sarah comes out of the bathroom after brushing her teeth and catches him by surprise with a hug that practically winds him. He's stumped by what prompted such a forceful display of affection, until she looks up at him with tearful eyes and whispers: "I had the best day with you today, Dad."

And Joel realises that excitement for the next step in her adventure isn't the only feeling they share. That the ache in his heart at the idea of leaving her behind in New York next month, the feeling that she's growing up too fast, the need to find a way to grasp the sands of time and slow them down just for a moment, so he doesn't have to let her go- all of that is shared as well.

"Me too, sweetheart." He whispers, kissing her forehead. "The best."

[eudikot]

I was looking through my files and discovered a mp100 Serizawa fic I forgot I wrote. I have no clue if this was supposed to be part of a larger idea, but after giving a quick glance over what I wrote to make sure there were no glaring errors it seems like it's rather complete even if not fully revised. BUT I do know this image is from this idea so without further rambling here's the little fic:

In Unnatural Places

Serizawa had always been inside.

He started that way, hiding the world from his powers. Hiding himself from the world. Alone and dark, where nothing could be hurt.

Suzuki offered him a way out. Outside of the walls where he knew every crack and every piece of chipped paint. But even though he left his room, he never left the confines of the inside world. He should've known that an umbrella opened indoors would only bring bad luck, but who was he to turn away the first person who proved that he could be normal?

Outside his room was inside more walls. The enclosed areas were safe, as if everything outside of them did not exist. It was contained in a size that Serizawa could handle, not the infinite land and sky that he occasionally saw through a window. The only times that they truly went outside were in the short minutes between building and car, or train, or plane, or boat. From one solitary enclosed space to a moving one. In the end, it was all the same. He had learned how to function without his umbrella when inside, the walls simply functioning as a bigger umbrella, but the moment he stepped outside it went up, no matter the weather. He might as well have been a vampire, shielding himself from the sun, but in reality, it was the noises, the light, the smell, the bodies, the plants, the animals, the skyscrapers, the cars, the pavement, the sun, the clouds, the way the Earth rotated despite the ground staying still. It was too much, and it would never be enough. Not under Suzuki's watch.

Then, he got in the way. The memories of a kid who had experienced it all bounced around in his brain. The way flowers smelled in spring, the joy of the warm sun on your skin, the sounds of children laughing and playing. There were still bad moments in those memories, but they were undertones compared to the moments spent in happiness. Something to consider, to grow from. Serizawa had never had the time to develop those thoughts. Inside, the building was pristine, not a single crack lacing its walls. Suzuki was there, ensuring that this inside was just like all of the others he had been in. Safe, comfortable, known. These new memories displayed the outside clear to see. The ground torn up, building collapsed, not a person in sight. It was nothing like the glimpses he got while walking to the car. It was the signs of a power out of control.

The same person that gave him his umbrella took it away. He no longer had his safety net, and no longer his supervisor. It was back to the start, an uncatered bomb ready to shift and ignite. It was back to the walls he knew, the only place he could keep everyone safe.

Then he came. The one that Serizawa had forfeited his life for. Reigen showed him that the world was nothing to fear, that one step at a time, he too could learn to enjoy things both inside and out. It had been raining the first day he went into the office. Newly re-acquainted to society, there had been no time to explore how he could buy an umbrella for himself. They had walked downstairs when Regien noticed, opening his umbrella outside and turning back to the doorway. His hand reached out, umbrella loose in his grip. Reigen told him to take it, that he'd get wet and catch a cold and that if he did that meant he couldn't work. Serizawa didn't want to miss work. He carefully took the umbrella from his hand, thinking about how much lighter it felt than his old one. Looking up, he could see the rain accumulating on its surface. Beyond that, the buildings, the trees, the cloudy sky. He was covered, yet he could still see the outside world.

Reigen declined taking it back once Serizawa realized this meant that he now had no umbrella, insisting that his immense power would keep him from getting cold. There wasn't much of an argument, for who could question his logic?

The rain didn't let up as Serizawa walked home. Water began to pool on the sidewalks, an interesting phenomenon. It didn't belong there, it belonged in lakes and rivers and streams. If it was supposed to stay there, then it would have been there this morning when he went to work. He crouched down to examine it, a reflection of himself looking back. Although it looked happy, smiling and laughing. He did not feel that way. His heart still ached. And yet, the reflection seemed to speak to him, as if saying that it takes time. But what was “it” and how much time?

He closed his eyes like the version of him in the reflection, trying to think about what could make him feel that way. There wasn't much that came to mind, as his world had been shifted again and again.

 "Serizawa," a familiar voice called out. He looked around, unable to see a source through the rain.

 "Hello?"

"Serizawa what are you doing?"

He looked down. The image in the puddle had changed, and instead of being still it moved. Pale skin, dark eyes, ginger hair. It was no longer him, but rather…

 "Reigen, how are you in a puddle?"

"What? I'm not- I'm in my apartment, looking at you through a portal- or something of the likes."

 "Oh." Serizawa didn't know what to say. Usually he hated the feeling of not knowing, but with Puddle-Reigen here, somehow it all felt okay.

"Okay, well, why don't we figure this out tomorrow. I'm tired. Goodnight Serizawa," He said, his body shifting out of frame before being placed right back and center.

"Okay. Goodnight, Reigen." He stood up, watching the reflection fizzle away. It all felt like a dream, like maybe he was going crazy and talking to himself. A buzz went off in his pocket and he fished out the phone, also something Reigen had given him. It was a little old and beat up, but he had said that as his employee he needed some way to communicate when they were not in the same room together.

-Maybe you didn't need a phone after all [6:47, Reigen]

Serizawa smiled at every puddle as he continued his walk home. Maybe things in wrong places weren't actually bad, but rather something special exactly where you need it.

[valiantvillain]

Tell me anything about your OCs

Still in the process of properly caffeinating so apologies if this is a bit scatterbrained but here goes. Now as far as OCs for videogames goes: Kate Shepard (Mass Effect) -is a Star Trek fan like her parents were and was actually named after Captain Kathryn Janeway -in that same vein, has a lot of old earth sci-fi novels, some actual physical books when she could get her hands on them -back on Mindoir her parents worked in hydroponics and has wanted to get some plants into her cabin on the Normandy but has never had the time to actually plan that

Skye Ryder (Mass Effect Andromeda) -had a nail polish collection in the Milky Way and has been trying to somehow rebuild it in Andromeda -in contrast to Scott has always been the socially awkward twin -in not so typical hero form, is very fond of pastel color palettes -always gave me the vibe she studied anthropology and thus gets along very well with Avela and talking ancient culture with her

Katla Cousland (Dragon Age: Origins) -after becoming Queen of Fereldan insisted on wearing blue and silver almost constantly so no one forgets that no matter what she is a Grey Warden and she is the Hero of Fereldan -despite being charming and charismatic is also very cutthroat so long as she believes that the throats she's cutting belong to bad people, aka "I'm willing to resolve this peacefully so long as you are willing to play ball and if not then you better hope I don't find any dirt on you or you will be dead" -initially hoped the Joining would kill Nathaniel due to residual desire for vengeance after killing Arl Howe only for him to become one of her closest friends and comrades Wendolyn [(Baldur's Gate 3) and my current brain bunny] - Seldarine drow bard -since venturing from the Underdark to the surface finds she likes to sleep with the windows open bc she loves the night air -changed her name upon reaching the surface world -makes her own costumes and fixes the party's clothes...also firmly believes the Mindflayers took her favorite pincushion as opposed to just losing it because she refuses to believe she would have allowed herself to just drop it, though why they would take that and not her violin and weapons is anyone's guess -her mother is a cleric of Eilistraee -her dream is to open a theater and cultivate new artistic talent I also have had this one fantasy idea bopping around in my head for years and I don't discuss her much but I really should, so here are some little tidbits about the protagonist for what I hope will one day be a high fantasy series called The Memoriam Chronicles. Serinda Belwyn -memoriam abilities (which is basically the ability to absorb people's memories through touch) usually manifest around puberty, however, hers developed at the young age of six, and her mentor essentially became her adoptive father -specializes in animal memories -is initially very prickly, aloof, and guarded toward most people but is clearly a passionate scholar and pretty fearless despite not being a fighter -a major theme of her story is the realization of how history will attempt to whitewash and tone down her history and identity in order to make her and her heroic deeds more palatable to future generations, aka keep mum about her marginalized identity so no one has to question why people like her were/are treated differently -wears glasses -is asexual

That's just some information about my various OCs. Not all of them just the ones I find myself thinking about most.

[this-should-do]

OUGH the tags about the toxic love story, I NEED to see ur toxic Barney and Gordon PLEASEUH

bestie im afraid that i dont particularly have anyhting to show rn, most of it is just words in my head, at most i have the last drawings at teh end of this post that are in reference to a sequel to a story me n a friend are wanting to write lmao but yeah, i love mkaing shit up about characters that have littel to no development in canon

to sum up, barney has ISSUES from before the rescas that cause him to latch onto gordon BAD and he never quite fets over it during those 20 years becuz trauma really prevents you from processing shit especially when ur arney who just refuses to take the time to actually tink about his issues outside a horribly self demeaning and sabotaging way if he isnt actively repressing them, so tehn when gordon shows back up (with his own issues well talk about in a minute) he reignites a bunch of feelings barney had but they get buried under 20 years of resentment and dissillusionment as well as the feeling that are reignitied are twisted and fucked up by rosetinted lenses about who gordon was so when gordon shows up with his brand new issues as in from the last day of just the rescas plus the newer issues of hte past 5 minutes of being luanched into a future where everything is different frmo what he knows when he is a man of staticness and immutable reality tethering him to proper functiong, he just cant handle it so when he isnt acting like a machine to cope with war hes trying to act like things are the same as they were before and in his hurting lowkey tries to force others he knew (particulalry barney cuz they were very close before the rescas, though they had not reached a confession state yet) to act liek they did before without meaning to by way of only responding as a person would when they perform to standard, otherwise he tends to shut down mentally, always counting and documenting when things are different without meaning to int turn the way this behavior affects barney is that becuz barney is a guy who tends to force negative feelings down and always try to be funny while simultaneously keeping everyone at arms distance, forces himself to playthe role of himself 20 years ago to his own harm while constantly flipping between keeping gordon at arms length (which hits the counter gordon has for howt higns are different without him even realizing it becuz ona surface level barney is acting the same, leading to a faster breakdown of his part) and jealous possession of gordon and wanting to keep gorodn to himself becuz in his brain he knew and cared for gordon more than anyone else and that he was first and gordon is HIS friend and his person to love (this also sets of gordons counter in a different way becuz its still not quite how barney was before, but thats to be expected nobody can act as they were before perectly even someone as adept at pretending ot be anyone but himself as barney is) however by constantly trying to keep up the old him persona, he feels unloved as himself further cementing the idea that he ash to keep up the act otherwise gordon wont love or care for him which further spoils gordon in his own mind despite his unhealthy attachment to gordon who had been a piece of the past to hold close to himself for comfort over 20 years, making their relationship very muddy this is all of course ignoring the pain that preceeds a state where this dynamic would occur , meaning thetime during the games before a peace time, where 99% of the time gordon is locke dup nerneath his Freeman persona which upsets barney who has to deal with all the rough edges he forgot about plus more so he starts to resent gordon not just for in his eyes abandoning him but also for not being the same as he remembered, a similar but different struggle to gordon, which inturn causes barney to lean into this distant but casual persona we see in game, perceptively frineds enough that people can tell but no where near what you might expect someone who was such close frineds with someone who disappeared for 20 years might act

so essentailly they are contantly doign things unintentionally or not that hurt the other or make their own self hurt, or having an unhealthy attachment to the other lmao now i also have more about their relationship that develops in a story me and a friend are rying to pull together, but that part of it wouldnt happen for sosososoos long same for the stroy it self being published lmao, but just know that it relies on barneys obsession and selfishness and possessiveness over gordon and having to deal with someone else being close to him when he couldnt be there after losing gordon a 2nd time vis a vis epistle 3 shenangians

[world-cinema-research]

Carrie (1976) by Michael Bump

Carrie (1976) by Michael Bump 

Carrie is a 1976 film directed by Brain De Palma. The film is based on the novel of the same name by Stephen King. The story is about a high school student named Carrie White who has telekinetic powers. Carrie is bullied by her classmates relentlessly. As her powers grow stronger, she began to become isolated, and her powers were unstable leading a tragedy at the high school. The opening of Carrie starts with her experiencing her first period in the locker room. Carrie was unaware of what was going on with her body. Carrie became visibly upset and her classmates began to tease her. Word of the incident quickly spread through the school and Carrie began to get bullied much worse. Sissy Spacek does an amazing job portraying the character's vulnerability and innocence. An interesting aspect of the film is the use of split screen scenes. In doing so the viewer is exposed to multiple scenes at once. The music playing throughout the film is haunting and atmospheric. It provides the movie with a consistent feeling of doom and unease. Carrie’s mother is played by Piper Laurie. Margaret White, Carrie’s mother, was a religious fanatic. She behaved abusively towards her daughter. Laurie’s performance is chilling.  

The climax of Carrie, and most likely one of the most famous scenes from the film, is when Carrie is drenched in pigs' blood in front of her classmates and by her classmates. The picture I tagged along with this post is a photo from that scene. Films and television pay homage to this scene by recreating it in their own projects. The music during this scene is ominous. The scene felt like it lasted a long time, and the combination of effects and terrifying music made that scene epic. The film’s ending and the book’s ending differed from each other. The end of the film is tragic for Carrie unfortunately, she ended up succumbing to the abusive parenting of her mother.  

Carrie is a classic horror film, but the message still holds true today. The message of what happens when someone is bullied and pushed into isolation. This is a testament to what would happen if the one being bullied had telekinesis and could take revenge on their abusers. The year that Carrie was released had many historical events. The first event was Jimmy Carter defeated President Gerald Ford, who was the incumbent, and became the country’s next President. It was a shocking upset because it is common for the incumbent President to get reelected. The other major historical event in 1976 was the landing of the first Martian module. It was the first craft ever to reach the surface of Mars.  

Carrie is the epitome of horror. It was well received by the audience. The budget for Carrie was a little over One million dollars. After the release, the film grossed over thirty-three million dollars worldwide. Carrie is a conventional Hollywood horror film. Although there are elements of terror that are unlike other films in the same genre. The music of the film tends to stick in the ears because of how disturbing it is. Anyone who is interested in scary movies should see Carrie. It is a classic Stephen King novel brought to life.  

“Part of his success is a result of the very good performances by Sissy Spacek, as Carrie, and by Piper Laurie, as Carrie's mother. They form a closed-off, claustrophobic household, the mother has translated her own psychotic fear of sexuality into a twisted personal religion. She punishes the girl constantly, locks her in closets with statues of a horribly bleeding Christ, and refuses to let her develop normal friendships.” Roger Ebert 

“Carrie” is a terrifyingly lyrical thriller. The director, Brian De Palma, has mastered a teasing style—a perverse mixture of comedy and horror and tension, like that of Hitchcock or Polanski, but with a lulling sensuousness. He builds our apprehensions languorously, softening us for the kill. You know you’re being manipulated, but he works in such a literal way and with so much candor that you have the pleasure of observing how he affects your susceptibilities even while you’re going into shock. Scary-and-funny must be the greatest combination for popular entertainment; anything-and-funny is, of course, great—even funny-and-funny. But we come out of a movie like “Carrie,” as we did out of “Jaws,” laughing at our own childishness. It’s like watching our team win a ballgame—we’re almost embarrassed at how bracing it is.”- Paula Kael 1976 

Carrie (1976) Prom scene 

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 5: Memory

WIP: Darkspace Portent Pairing: Warren x Thrive Timeline: Thriving: Meridian (ish. loosely. pre-first draft so everything is wrong.) CW: Some, like, pain and stuff. Injury? Uh, if you don’t like reading about people in sustained physical pain, then don’t read this lol. Also, blood. Rating: T Words: 1,728

***

"How bad is it?"

Thrive tightened his fists over the surface of the table, jaw wrenched closed, and shook his head. After a few beats during which the veins in his arms became alarming in their prominence, he released the breath he'd held. "It's not as bad…as it was the last time."

Warren cast a worried search over the screen of the organic data extractor from his position in the corner of the room. "Yeah…I'm not sure that's making me feel better about this."

Thrive grimaced and a hand reached up as if to remove the electrodes attached to his skull, but instead, he pressed his fingers to his temple. "It merely means that Ataneq and I will have to adjust the ratio of input and…and the output of…no." His face went blank. "I can't think." He slammed his wrist on the table and threw his head back, letting fly a lengthy swear in Solnai at the top of his voice.

Warren, understanding how much agony one had to be in to use that particular swear, switched the machine off and jumped to his side, kneeling beside his chair. "Okay, sweetheart, okay. That's good enough." He whipped an absorbent cloth from his pocket and dabbed the moisture from Thrive's forehead, turning his face toward him and registering the swelling relief not just through their physical connection, but their mental one as well. "You're doing great. Let's take a break."

"I'd rather not," Thrive rasped. "We're close. This is the most important thing I've ever done."

"And I'd rather not watch you fry your beautiful brain to a crisp." Warren dragged a second chair over and helped Thrive's trembling hands hold the cloth to his neck and the rest of his face. "Also, this is very much not the most important thing you've ever done."

Thrive grinned at him, as exhausted as he was in doing so. "Well…one could argue that you are the Most Important thing I've ever done."

"If you don't shut your fucking mouth," Warren muttered playfully, beginning to take the electrodes off of Thrive's chest.

Thrive grabbed his hand. "No. One more."

"Hey, I meant it when I said I was gonna put a stop to this if you punched that damn self-destruction button of yours again." Warren gripped Thrive's hand. "This machine is in its infancy and could kill you if you don't take a break."

Instead of the belligerence Warren expected, Thrive turned to him with excitement in his eyes. "The solution is right here. We could be moments away from a breakthrough. The entire kingdom is as close to being able to harness th'crode technology as you and I are right this second, Warren. You will be able to store your own memories without my help."

"Yeah, I kinda know all of that—"

"Do you understand how difficult it has been for me to watch you forget?"

Warren paused. The excitement had fallen away to reveal a deep sadness, remorse he hadn't seen in quite some time. "…It's gotten pretty bad."

"Yes." Thrive applied pressure onto the electrode Warren had started to remove. "Conversations with you about our shared past have become daily reminders of my misjudgment. My selfishness. You shouldn't have to rely on someone else to make sure your cherished memories never die over time."

Warren looked from him to the data extractor. "I still think you need to do this while natural..."

"The point is to test the extractor's capability on a human subject." Thrive straightened his spine. "Our physiology may be different in a lot of ways while I'm human, but I'm not about to test it on you in this stage of development. All it needs is recalibration. I've suggested putting the extraction points directly on the brain, but that idea was shot down rather quickly."

"Thank you, Ataneq," Warren grumbled.

"Let me do this one last time." Thrive pointed to the machine. "One last time. If it doesn't work, I will give up for the rest of the day."

Warren sighed into his hands. "I can't. I can't inflict more of this pain onto you. It's too much. No, I'm saying no. If you wanna torture yourself one more time, you need to get someone else in here to do it."

Thrive's eyebrow quirked.

Which was how, ten minutes later, Warren found himself standing next to Thoeala on the other side of the room while Ataneq calibrated the machine.

Warren turned a frown to Thoeala.

"Oh, you think I'm gonna say no?" Thoeala laughed. "You think just because he's my dad I have an opinion about his well-being?"

"Why are you still here if you didn't want to do this, Pop?" Ataneq asked, repositioning the electrodes on Thrive's head.

Warren sniffed. "Because if this doesn't kill him, I will."

Ataneq took Warren's previous spot behind the extractor. "Right. Counting down from five. Father, recall a memory. Let's keep it simple."

Thrive screwed his eyes shut and nodded, hands tightly clasped together. "Test designation eight-four-six-four," he said for the audio/visual records. "Recalling a memory of my last audience with Delegate Sinkship."

"Simple," Warren corrected. "Not painful."

Ataneq swiped a finger over the screen. "Long live the King. Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

A high-pitched whine rose from the machine and Thrive placed his hands flat on the table. "Yes…immediate drop in physical discomfort from designation eight-four-six-three." He inhaled slowly through his nose, then released through his mouth. "My sinus cavities are warm and there is a sharp sting behind the eyes."

"Holding onto the memory?"

"Yes. Begin transference…now."

Ataneq had only just done what he was told when Thrive let out an unusual sound. A guttural wail he tried to suppress, hanging his head, face contorting into a grimace. Thoeala bristled beside Warren and Ataneq narrowed his eyes.

"There's now…" Thrive touched the center of his forehead, fingers shaking visibly, "…severe—severe pain. Frontal and…damn it..."

Warren's guard raised. Any pain he deemed "severe" could have killed anyone else on the spot. "Thrive, shut it down."

"How close are we," Thrive asked through gritted teeth.

"I can't actually tell. Everything's going haywire," Ataneq said. "Your receptors are being overloaded; you need to stop the transference or you're going to go into self-preservation mode."

As Thrive opened his eyes, a single rivulet of blood rolled down from his nose. "Hemorrhaging. Numbness in…in the hands." He swiped the blood away with a thumb and winced again. "And I'm experiencing a burning sensation on the skin."

"Fuck," Warren spat. "This is exactly why I didn't want to do this again!"

Ataneq held up a hand in Thoeala's direction when she crossed over to Thrive. "Don't touch him yet. I stopped the extractor but he wasn't able to cut off the transference. He's got to come down gradually."

Thrive's eyelids drooped and he snapped upright in an attempt to stay present and focused. "I…I'm about to…fall into preservation state."

"Genius." Warren leaned over the table and gestured around his eyes to get Thrive to make eye contact. "I have been alive for so fucking long and you wanna know why I'm only now starting to get gray hair?"

Thrive carefully rested his head in his arms, tugging the electrodes' wires to their limit. "I may have an idea..."

"Yeah, he's out," Ataneq said after a second of silence.

Thoeala sighed. "So he did that for no reason?"

"No, he succeeded."

"Excuse me?" Warren glanced at him in alarm. "…You mean he actually managed to transfer a memory into the databank?"

Ataneq nodded. "It's not very clear, but it's there. I can just make out vague shapes moving across the screen. We can work with this."

Warren walked around the table and kneeled beside Thrive, who didn't appear to be breathing at all. He felt his neck for a pulse and was satisfied to catch the glacial thrum of his system working to mend his brain. "Babe..."

"Wow," Thoeala exclaimed, peering at the screen of the extractor over Ataneq's shoulder. "That is incredible! Yeah, I can see an outline of Sinkship!"

"Thrive," Warren said, raking his fingers through Thrive's hair. "You did it. We'll celebrate when you're awake." He removed the electrodes and kissed Thrive's temple, his ear, and the bit of cheek exposed to him. "You cause me enormous stress but you also never cease to make me proud."

Thoeala and Ataneq each took turns patting Thrive on the back before leaving the room. "Give us a heads up on how he is."

"Always," Warren promised before settling down on the floor.

He was there for close to half an hour before Thrive sank back into consciousness, folding himself upright and wiping the rest of the blood from his nose.

"Welcome back," Warren said.

Thrive turned, clearly not expecting to see him, grogginess still present on his face. "You waited."

"Well, yeah…you pulled it off. I couldn't just leave you here."

Thrive patted himself down for the wireless electrodes that were used to monitor his physical response to the testing as Warren got up to perch himself on the table. "I'm surprised that it actually worked."

Warren leaned over to capture him in a firm kiss. "I'm not."

"I suppose I owe you an apology." Thrive kissed him again. "I'll take this as a sign to always do what you say from now on."

"Oh," Warren said with a sly smile. "Nice. I don't even care that you're making fun of me. I will take full advantage of this."

"As I've no doubt." Thrive offered him only a half-sarcastic smirk in return. "I believe you called, rightfully, for a celebration."

"You heard that, huh?"

"I'm…in a word, spent. Would you like to stay the night at the Fertile Patch? We could set up a camp."

"That sounds fantastic."

Thrive kissed him one final time before they parted ways to prepare for the hour-long shuttle trip. Warren apprised the kids of Thrive's state and while Thrive managed to stay awake on the ride over, as soon as his head hit the lush grass of the uninhabited area of wilderness he was down for the count again.

Warren watched the sunset by himself, using Thrive's stomach as a pillow, lost in thought about the impact the day's accomplishments would have on the neighboring galaxies.

He'd played a part in history yet again, it seemed.

[bruhstation]

Hi! I love your AU and human designs so much, can I ask what the inspirations for it are?

thank you very much!!! well besides the obvious being the ttte show and the railway series books, a lot of inspirations for the story came from comics, shows, and games that I love. also whatever my brain cooks whenever I'm daydreaming about anything exciting to happen in classes

(long ramble + some character talk under the cut)

to start off this insane ramble. inspirations for writing the characters came from - to name a few - land of the lustr0us, d3ltarun3, the p0kem0n myst3ry dunge0n games, blue peri0d... the story as well. also some of the wackiness came from joj0's biz4rre adventure

land of the lustr0us is a HUGE one. this manga is about humanoid beings living in a society that prioritizes hard work over creativity, believes that the group's benefits is more important over one's own interests, casts aside those who can't work well, and doesn't really understand the concept of death and loss because they all believe they can be fixed (until they realize their fallen comrades are ground to dust and spread across the moon).

(ph0s' character development metamorphosis is a great inspiration for thomas', henry's and lady's characters. c1nnabar's and di4mond's are james' and percy's)

it's just like ttte. and casa tidmouth, except they're all actually humans and it's way WAY less darker than land of the lustr0us

I also like playing with parallels - duck and diesel being one of my favorites - and juxtapositions.... like gordon for example. his whole family is dying one by one yet despite his (understandable) sadness to the point where prior to the story he once asked scott to visit him, he now couldn't bother enough to think too much about it, unlike his remaining brother scott. gordon's not exactly famous job-wise outside of sodor but the steam team got his back, unlike scott who's insanely famous - a celebrity - yet his celebrity friends are just friends with him for the sake of their own reputations. I think it fits with the whole "everyone's all friends and coworkers on the surface yet there's a secret or two that we've decided to keep to ourselves" or "lamenting what I don't have instead of being happy for what I have" themes. something like that, capiche?

also in general I'm just fascinated about the concept of purpose and how someone's life (whether it's their lifespan, upbringing, or their role in day-to-day life in general) affects it. like lady and d10.

lady's a goddess from the shining time world. her purpose is, well, to make sure nobody dies from any freak accidents. after that's out of the window thanks to gold dust shortages, her new purpose is now to look for gold dust sources. despite all this, she never understood how humans truly work, how their relationships affect each other, how everyone has different purposes and is even able to choose their own, because from the start of her life in the shining time world until she visited sodor, she's always been alone (yet content, for she doesn't know that the company of others might have changed her life a whole lot) and appointed as the goddess of the railways. nothing more, nothing less.

d10's almost the same as lady. I won't tell too much about his backstory, but it's not hard to guess that a man with 10 phds, numerous accounts of crimes, and who works as a very questionable scrapyard worker doesn't exactly have the nicest backstory. he started out alone, something that lady also shares, and they're both insanely curious about what they aren't (d10's are gods and their powers, while lady's is humans), but what makes them both different is that one finds his own purpose by himself and works his ass off to reach his goal (even though it's definitely messed up), while the other already got a purpose assigned to her the moment she existed. and boy will these not turn out exactly the prettiest for the both of them, especially when they eventually meet

as for character designs: I just eyeball them and then add details that correspond to their respective stories and occupations. henry cut his hair and got two noticeable scars after his revivement to show his growth, gordon’s outfit is a 4-layer suit because he has to dress sharp as the face of the express, thomas’ outfit consists of overalls, a pair of modified sneakers, and red bandana to show that he’s the protagonist who started off as someone excited for adventures, etc.

ANYWAYS PFDTFDYFGH SORRY FOR THE LONG RAMBLE I JUST LOVE TALKING ABOUT WRITING AND CHARACTERS .... THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

[huevobuevo]

Okai so apparently splatoon 3 is grippin my dopamine deprived brain with the strength of a blue collar middle age irish immigrant on his last 30 minute cigarette/lunch break SO i made some splatoon aus with. Essentialy every single piece of media i could think of.

If you’re interested good fucking luck

A SPACE ODYSSEY because why not

Set in Alterna where instead of Grizzco the regular squid government (??) sends down a small team to investigate the crater. Same thing as in the original ASO story where they’re aware of Alterna’s existence but they hide it from David & Frank honestly they dont know much about it either LMAOOOO‼️ theyre hopin to uncover old human technology to make better Machines i Guess‼️‼️‼️ Hal & Sal are either gonna be Hologram AI’s that were created by a human scientist to watch over Alterna OR sea cucumbers. The Sea Cucumber Route would be where Hal was sent by the squid government™️ to look over the Discovery team (as usual). The hologram route is cooler but also i REALLY like the idea of David, just a regular octoling, falling inlove with Hal, a sea cucumber, a littler guy, a silly goofy, a teensy eepsy, etc. etc. THERES ALSO another version where Hal & Sal are the first android Idols created by Dr Chandra to develop a NEW kinda Funk And Groove or whatevas!!!! They’re both octoling-robots and im still figurin out their style of music but uh ya :]]]]]

THE STANLEY PARABLE

Mainly im just. Inlove with the idea of The Narrator being like a giant Zapfish (maybe THE Great Zapfish) and it all kinda goes to his head. He’s an Idol with his style of music being similar to that of Damp Socks (jazz but make the time signature insane). His producer is Employee 432/Settings Person whose either a jellyfish or sea cucumber (kinda leanin towards jellyfish since theyre the main ones behind the Idol’s development teams but we need more sea cucumbers imo <33 ). Stanley is an inkling who, in his youth, was a part of a professional turf war team. His main weapon was OBVIOUSLY the trislosher. As he got older he retired from turf wars and got just a regular ol office job- until he found himself stuck in recon. The Stanley Parable & Ultra Deluxe is basically The Narrator trying to figure out the perfect game mode & map just intime for the new splatfest while Stanley tries to escape this hell of a map. Im thinking of their backstory. Like maybe Stanley being a part of the Squidbeak Splatoon and the Narrator being the zapfish you save?? But idk if that’ll stick since ill either have to make them both children or Stanley/Agent Three would’ve applied as an adult.

RESIDENT EVIL

the one that makes me insane. Its sorta following an alternative path where Umbrella is a company that helps sponsor and host Turf Wars, and after Team Order wins the final Splatfest for Splatoon 2 Umbrella uses this as ignition to take over the Splatlands. So now we have a dystopian hella swag alterna-like city that’s closed off from the splatlands where shits just fucked. ANEYWAYS im still thinkin bout the idols but i moght be stupid and just makem the Weskers

PORTAL

This is Octo-Expansion but spicy. Gods the VIBES between Kamabo Co. & Aperture Science is SOOO 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞‼️‼️‼️‼️ ya same thing applies, GLaDOS is a giant AI whose blendin up fish people BUT THIS TIME her main goal isnt to goop up the world. Unlike Tartar she LOVES to just sit in her little autistic corner and torture people, so she mainly uses the goop from failed test subjects to go up to the surface and kidnap folks-one of them being an Octoling called Chell, who was on her way to the surface after hearing the Calamari Inkantation. Instead of the Squidbeak Splatoon & Off The Hook accompanying her, she has the help of the train conductor Wheatley (yes hes going to be a hermit crab.) & a trio of musicians who are trying to reach the surface as well. The band consists of Hook (Rick; a salmonling) Line (Fact Core; an octoling) & Sinker (Space Core; an inkling)! GLaDOS takes the form of a long robotic eel using material from the testing stations- her weakpoints in the final battle are actually those god forsaken green crates! Good luck with that buddy! Of course near the end Wheatley betrays you as usual, still workin on the kinks for the main storyline + cave johnson’s whole deal. Once you escape however Hook Line & Sinker will become the new idols for the Splatlands/Inkopolis! They become a fan favorites quickly, their choice of music being a mix of hyperpop & breakcore with an astronomy theme <333 ALSO the other cores are sanitized octolings/inklings/salmonlings that were dragged down into Aperture Labs

LITTLE NIGHTMARES

JIPPEEE!!! Here an inkling & octoling (Six & Mono) are lost in an underwater city after accidentally boarding the Deep Sea Metro. Its kind of a mix of Octo Expansion & Little Nightmares 2 where they both have to complete various challenges created by the two idols of the city- that being The Lady & Thin Man. Their style of music is similar to Deep Cut but im imagining more bass ??? Like?? Im thinkin of GHOST’s Solaria / Aura vibes, yakno??

ALSO I HAVE SPECIFIC TYPES OF MARINE ANIMALS FOR CERTAIN CHARACTERS JIPPEE!! :3

PORTAL

- Space Core; Caribbean Reef Squid

- Fact Core; Glowing Sucker Octopus

- Rick; Sockeye Salmon

- Chell; Firefly Squid

SPACE ODYSSEY

- Hal9000; either a Blanket Octopus or a Chromodoris Quadricolor Sea Slug

- Sal9000; either a Blanket Octopus or a Blue Velvet Sea Slug

RESIDENT EVIL

- Rebecca Chambers; either a Remora or Nurse Shark

- Billy Coen; Tiger Shark

- Jill Valentine; Color Tip Reef Anemone

- Albert & Alex Wesker; Collosal Squids

- Excella Gionne; Anguilla/European Eel

- Nicholai Ginovaef; Zebra Octopus

- Sherry Birkin; Dumbo Octopus :]

- Alcina Dimitrescu; Vampire Squid (duh)

- Karl Heisenberg; Dogfish

- Donna Beneviento; Bubbletip Anemone

- Angie Beneviento; clownfish HAH

- Mother Miranda & Eveline; Anglerfish

- The Bakers; Rainbow Trout

LITTLE NIGHTMARES

- Raincoat Girl, Six & The Lady; Magnapinna Squid

- Mono & The Thin Man; Blanket Octopus

- Runaway Kid; Blue Ringed Octopus

- The Pretender; Crown Jelly

- Flashlight Girl; Cookie Cutter Shark

- the whole ass baby; ze baby jelly

- The Crackheads; Goblin Shark. what else

- The Teacher; nurse shark

(still researchin different types of sea critters for this au!)