#just. i like the fact we win the most when i survive the longest as medic because i keep everyone alive 😎

[wizard-email]

I don't want to add god's longest addition to the would you survive an apocalypse?' poll, but I do actually have an absolutely fallproof plan for the zombie apocalypse. It doesn’t matter what kind of zombies there are & it has exactly (2) steps:

1. Drive to the nearest National Trust proparty

2. win

This is the result of a very lengthy (and completely serious) discussion with my sister so let me break it down for you.

Benefit 1: EVERYTHING'S THERE

For those of you who don't live in the UK (or don't have parents with exactly 1 idea for a family trip ever), all National Trust proparties are broadly speaking exactly the same.

There's a big rich person's house & the courtyard is always converted into a little picnic area containing a combination gift shop/booking desk; a cafe and a secondhand bookshop. The gift shop has like a 60% chances to contain basic gardening tools and a little section for seeds & bulbs.

I won't list their standardised cafe menu (that I do in fact have memorised), but it's pretty good & more importantly most of it is made or at least finished on site. If they rationed, a small group could live off National Trust cornish pasties, scones & gift shop fudge for a month or two I think <3

Here's a list of things that are might be there but aren't 100% guaranteed:

- Kitchen garden

- Fish pond

- Livestock (usually chickens, sometimes pigs or bees)

- Medieval armour (fuck ya'll with guns but I would take a pike over having to worry about ammunition any day)

- Horses and functioning stable

- Forests cultivated for the purpose of deer hunting

John McRichman's gun/archery collection

- Lake

Benefit 2: FUCKING!! CASTLE!!

??? Where do I start???

1. These things are so easy to defend it's laughable.

I'm sure we all know about spiral staircases being designed to maximise cover for a right handed person during sieges but it's more than that ??? 18th century rich people loved to make their estates look as big, impressive & isolated as possible & they did this by surrounded their houses on all sides with several hundred metres of flat, open grass with thick trees on the edges to block out the horizon.

- Nothing can see you

- No loud noises will be within earshot of anything close to civilisation

- Any zombies that DO somehow show up can be picked off at a distance whether they know how to run or not

- Litterally there are so many little towers & secret rooms & shit how do you even manage to fuck up enough to die here like I would actually be impressed

- ALSO the edge of the estate is usually also walled off and/or fenced & gated, so there's no chance of anything wandering in by accident

2. All the older infrastructure is designed pre-electricity so you'll still be able to have a shower when the power grid inevitably explodes or something

3. You get to sleep in one of those huge 4-poster beds with all the fun embroidery and silk pillows

4. Idk the massive lawn can be converted into a farm if the apocalypse goes on long enough

Genuinely I think my quality of life would actually improve?? and that's just with what's already there - if there was time to pick up some supplies beforehand me & my buddies would just be hanging out. literally what apocalypse im eating scones xoxo

[justforbooks]

Matthew Perry was a Friend to all, known the world over as Chandler Bing, always seconds away from a great wisecrack and a show-stopping grin. But he was also an addict. That was the “big, terrible thing” Perry referenced in the title of his memoir last year, giving it equal weighting with the TV series that made him an indelible celebrity, long after he had largely retreated from screens.

I read Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing last year and found it a jarring, often uncomfortable experience. It was one part juicy celebrity memoir, enlivened by the flashes of humour and winning self-deprecation that Perry (by his own admission) shared with his defining character; and one part harrowing account of a man intent on his own destruction.

Perry characterised himself as a ready-made, just-add-water addict: an alcoholic with his first drink at the age of 14, and hooked on painkillers with his first pill, prescribed after a jetski accident. High, he drove a red Mustang convertible across the desert, feeling “complete and utter euphoria”: “I remember thinking, ‘If this doesn’t kill me, I’m doing this again.’” It didn’t then.

Nearly a year to the day after Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing was published, Perry was found dead at his Los Angeles home in an apparent drowning. He was 54. Tributes from his friends and fans have rightly focused on Perry’s character and talent, with actors Morgan Fairchild (who played Perry’s on-screen mother) mourning “the loss of such a brilliant young actor” and Mira Sorvino of his “singular wit”. Even the Canadian prime minister, Justin Trudeau, (who knew Perry as a boy, and whom Perry claimed in his memoir to have beaten up) paid tribute to the “schoolyard games we used to play … Thanks for all the laughs, Matthew”.

Indeed, though Perry’s career never took off beyond Friends, he was arguably the standout performer in a talented cast of six. Any good-looking guy can be the smart-aleck, cracking jokes in the corner, but Perry imbued Chandler with energy and emotional depth.

Though defined by his deadpan delivery – Perry is right, when he wrote “that Chandler Bing transformed the way that America spoke” – he also had exceptional comic timing, and was a great physical performer. No one else has so effectively communicated combined dating anxiety and needing to pee. The fact that Perry managed to more or less keep it together over 10 seasons and 236 episodes, often while juggling ferocious substance abuse, is only further testament to his talent.

The success of Friends – not to mention the support from his castmates, his real-life friends – was what helped him to survive, Perry wrote. “There was no way I could have been a journeyman actor. I wouldn’t have stayed sober for that; it was not worth not doing heroin for that … When you’re earning $1m a week, you can’t afford to have the 17th drink.”

Perry also had a tricky part to play within the ensemble, in taking a platonic friendship between two cynics into a heartfelt romance. Chandler and Monica was Friend’s central love story, with none of the cushioning contrivances and strategic “breaks” of the series’ other pairings. In TV, as well as life, it’s harder to make yourself vulnerable and offer love steadily than it is to give in to doubt and run hot-and-cool: Perry showed that the smart guy, even the mean guy, could also be the nice guy you’d do well to marry.

In a series that has otherwise aged fairly poorly, Chandler and Monica are still an aspirational model for an equal partnership. As a teenager, I found it sweet when Chandler told Monica: “They can say that you’re high maintenance, but it’s OK, because I like … maintaining you.” As a far-from-easygoing, thirtysomething single woman, it is perhaps the most desirable declaration of love I’ve ever seen.

It is no wonder Perry was so beloved for his character. “For the longest time,” he wrote, he experienced it as a burden, though he had lately reached some kind of peace with Friends as his legacy. “If you’re going to be typecast, that’s the way to do it.” But at the widespread shock at his death, as the world woke up to the news on Sunday morning, you can picture Perry raising one quizzical eyebrow. As he wrote himself: “I didn’t stand a fucking chance.”

Perry might not have risked 17 drinks on set – but he would certainly try for 16. Especially during the later seasons of Friends, he was routinely drunk, high or hungover on set, prompting concern from Jennifer Aniston. (“‘We can smell it,’ she said, in a kind of weird but loving way.”) Even a “sober companion” to shadow him at work proved insufficient safeguard: when a read-through was cut short by Perry’s incoherence, the entire cast staged an intervention. When The One With Monica and Chandler’s Wedding aired, in May 2001, Perry was living in rehab.

For all Perry’s amusing celebrity anecdotes and determined good cheer, Friends, Lovers and the Big Terrible Thing reads primarily as an addiction memoir without an ending. Indeed, it read as though it had almost been written in real time: Perry’s colon had exploded in July 2019, only three years before its publication, and in January 2022 he underwent his 14th surgery relating to his drug addiction. “I finally have rock-hard abs, but they aren’t from sit-ups,” he wrote, perkily.

Perry described, often, the reward he drew from supporting other addicts: “The best thing about me, bar none, is that … I can help a desperate man get sober.” Nonetheless, I was struck while reading it that the more recent timeline of Perry’s using and abusing was somewhat opaque. It felt somewhat strategic: an attempt to obscure his current reality and lend heft to the suggestion that the worst of his troubles were behind him. But even Perry himself – no doubt encouraged to come to a positive conclusion – could not find a more upbeat note with which to end on than the fact that he was alive at all.

For all its gestures to sobriety, “looking forward” and moving into the future, the final chapter reads like Perry speaking from beyond the grave, reflecting on the faces of his loved ones as if he has already passed on.

The world might be shocked at his untimely death, but Perry knew that his addiction was going to kill him; he told us in print a year ago, in a book that reached six figures in sales. Indeed, he wrote, his most surprising takeaway was that it hadn’t already.

“There are two kinds of drug addicts,” Perry wrote of his preference for opiates over cocaine. “The ones who want to go up, and the ones who want to go down … I wanted to melt into my couch and feel wonderful.” You can only hope that, now, he is as close to happiness as he felt that morning in the red Mustang.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[hardtruthsfromsoftcats-blog]

What is artificial intelligence?

Over the years, it’s been defined in many ways.  Alan Turing, considered to be the “father” of AI, introduced the Turing Test, and claimed that a machine was artificially intelligent if it could convincingly mimic the speech patterns of a human.  If you were talking to someone over the phone, could a computer convincingly speak to you as a human would, to the point that you wouldn’t even question its humanhood?

More recently, there has been an insurgence of folks who consider AI to be a program that learns, or has learned its capabilities from data or experience.

These are both good attempts, but they are also both wrong.  Yes, it sounds weird to call out the father of artificial intelligence as being wrong about artificial intelligence.  But, to quote Isaac Newton, “If I have seen that Alan Turing is wrong, it is by standing upon the shoulders of Alan Turing.”  Or something like that.  With 100 years of additional hindsight, he would probably think he’s wrong too.

The problem with the first, i.e. Alan Turing’s definition, is that there are many things that sound intelligent to the average person but are not: parrots, tape recorders, my ex-partner.  And there are many things that do not sound intelligent or even comprehensible to the average person but at least on some level are: Computer bytecode, secret messages, Dan Quayle.  In fact, computers have even “won” Turing tests by simply appearing convincingly, humanly confused.

The problem with the second definition is that it precludes prescribed knowledge.  If you encode a very clever reasoning capability into software, is it not smart?  Is it not intelligent?  Even throughout nature, many organisms are born with knowledge imprinted in their neural circuitry, typically survival skills for themselves or their species.

So, what is artificial intelligence?

Classically, the accepted definition in the field has been that AI is search.  No, this does not mean robots that can go find buried treasure; rather, this means agents that intellectually can logically consider possibilities in order to find a solution to a problem.  They are searching for an answer, and they do that by inductively and/or deductively exploring candidate solutions through trial and error.  When they find one that works, they have simulated its result, and thus can prove to you that they have found the answer.

This definition worked for a long time.  You use this type of technology, maybe even every day.  A GPS navigation app searches for a path from your starting point to your requested destination, and can show you a path from point A to point B that you can see is correct, maybe even optimal.  When you do a text search for a file on your computer, when it finds you the file with the name you’re looking for, you can see that it’s the one you wanted.

This version of AI racked up all sorts of wins for decades.  But, it also pushed up against the limits of tractability and observability.

A perfect example of this is in chess.  Chess is perhaps the most classic application of AI, ever since a man in 1770 dressed up as a robot and pretended to be a chess-playing computer, and if you don’t believe me look up “The Mecahnical Turk.”  For the longest time, humans summarily defeated their silicon counterparts in chess and similar complexity board games (such as Shogi and Go).  The problem was that AI players just couldn’t cut by using search.  These co-called chess engines worked by imagining a move, then imagining all of the moves that their opponent could play in response, then imagining all of the moves that they could play in response to all of those moves…and so on.  So, if a computer wanted to consider one move, it might then have to consider four countermoves by its opponent, and then the 4 x 4 countermoves it would play in response to those, then the 4 x 4 x 4 countermoves its opponent could play…even if we consider that a player only has up to four moves at any given time (and they usually have more), by looking ahead to just move 20 it has to consider over a trillion moves.  Even being clever about pruning obviously bad moves, a computer can’t consider all reasonable strategies and prove to you it’s making the best moves.  Its opponent would die of old age before it finished that search.

So, chess AI started relying on heuristics.  It would look ahead only three or four moves, then decide “is this a good position to be in?”  It did so by applying a heuristic function — based on what it knew about the future of the game, it would take a guess as to how good the game position was, based on a mathematical score it would assign.

And by picking good heuristic functions and searching just deep enough at any given time, IBM’s Deep Blue Supercomputer was able to finally beat the world champion and top 3 chess player of all time, Garry Kasparov, in 1996.  

These same heuristic guesses are also used in cases of partial observability, by virtue of necessity.  In instances where a computer can’t exhaustively search all possible outcomes because it doesn’t have all information, it has to get by on some amount of guesswork.  A self-driving car, for example, can’t use an exhaustive search in choosing its next maneuver.  It might know all the roads, but it has to take guesses about the position of other cars outside of the range of its cameras.

But coming up with these heuristic functions is difficult, and arguably worse, it’s boooring.

Luckily, a subdiscipline of AI, called “machine learning” or ML, had a potential solution to automate away all of the boring (read: difficult) aspects.  Rather than prescribe mathematical guesses for things computers can’t see, what if computers could learn to make good guesses, from data or experience?  After all, this is what humans do.

Machine learning allows computers to look at datasets, use some data to try to improve its heuristics, use some data to test the efficacy of that heuristic, and iteratively try to continue to improve it some more.  That “testing” step is key, by the way — machine learning fundamentally is only useful if it produces heuristics that are predictive on some “test” data that is not used for training.  That predictiveness, versus pure datafitting, is the fundamental difference between statistics and machine learning.  Machine learning is trying to be useful in the future, but it’s not necessarily trying to explain what it’s seen in the past.

From the advent of machine learning in the 1940s to the early 2010s, machine learning worked…to a point.  Like, not really super well in most domains.  Like, 80-90% well. Computers were B+ students in many domains.  Yeah, you could use them to reasonably guess property values.  But they had difficulty with some domains.  Images.  Words.  Predicting the behavior of humans.  In the 1950s, Marvin Minsky famously thought that learning models of human vision was a problem that could be solved in two months, but by 2010 computers still couldn’t solve CAPTCHAs (thankfully) or tell you how many cats were in a given picture (The answer is always: not enough).  Until the late 00s, computers weren’t competitive at trivia games such as Jeopardy!, not because they didn’t know a lot of facts, but because they couldn’t understand the language.  And even when they eventually triumphed, they did so through statistical guesswork, matching key phrases with corresponding knowledge in their databanks.  In the mid 00s, Netflix finally was able to predict a movie you might like to watch next — to a roughly 90% success rate.

All of these attempts at creating human-like intelligence were largely very statistically, mathematically based.  But humans probably aren’t constantly running numerical computations in their brains for every decision they make.  What if we tried a different, more bioinspired approach, such as mimicking the human brain?  Neural networks, perhaps one of the most famous types of machine learning model, were invented to do just that.

Now, it’s important to note that these “neural networks,” really kind of sort of look nothing like neural networks of the brain.  They’re, uhh…made of something we call “neurons.”  But these “neurons” are more like simple mathematical switches, like digital logic gates on a computer.  But computers can do a lot, ad so could these artificial neural networks!  And without going too far into the details, each individual neuron can predict more types of phenomena than the most classical statistical models.  So, you could imagine the potential power these neurons would provide when tons of them were linked up together into a massive circuit!

That’s right, they provided no power whatsoever, because designing that circuit — what types of switches there are and how they are hooked up to one another — was itself a massive search problem that computers couldn’t solve.  Neural networks sucked.

That is, until 2012.

In 2012, certain parts of computer hardware (specifically the GPU, which was traditionally used for creating graphics) had gotten more powerful, we learned to create better search algorithms for neural networks, and we had invented new types of neural networks that were easier to search.  And suddenly, these new hardware and new software approaches were able to be combined to design very large and very capable neural networks in a matter of days.  With the colloquially titled “AlexNet,” Deep learning was proven to be both practical.

And how did we harness this deep learning power in order to solve humanity’s most pressing problems?

First, we used deep learning in order to be able to learn to identify cats in pictures.  That was called supervised learning.  Then, we were able to determine if cats in pictures were different enough from one another to be put into separate “classes”; this is commonly known as unsupervised learning.  Then, we were able to teach robot cats how to walk, from their own experience, in what’s referred to as semi-supervised or “reinforcement learning.”  (This same type of machine learning has also led computers to finally reign victorious in Shogi and Go, and extend their dominance in chess.)

And now, in 2023, just ten years later, we have reached the apex of computer intelligence.  We are able to use deep learning to generate images of cats, in what’s known as “generative machine learning,” or “generative AI.”

Clearly, this book is AI’s magnum opus.

All machine learning is on some level guesswork, but generative machine learning, which fundamentally draws outputs based on probabilities, is the “guessiest” of them all.  It provides plausible possibilities, such as images, sentences, or music, based on what a person wants, without any guarantees of correctness.

Oh dear.  I fear we have lost the plot, in this essay, in the field of AI, and maybe in society.

I claimed that AI is search.  Machine learning-powered AI is search that uses some guesswork, relying on heuristics learned from data.  And generative AI is also search, but it’s a quick search, one in which the computer is so confident about what it has learned that it assumes that the very first guess it makes is correct and declares victory.

Is this intelligent, if there is no verification?

Is this artificial, if it’s so based in real-world data?

At the beginning of this chapter, I was arrogant.  I said, pompously, that Alan Turing, as well as many of my living colleagues, were wrong with their two definitions of AI, and that my third definition was correct.  But maybe I’m no better than a generative AI algorithm, immediately confident that my learned instincts would necessarily produce me the right answer.

Generative AI is the “new hotness” in AI, but it is but one flavor.  Every iteration listed above has come with its own strengths and weaknesses, and with those weaknesses, hidden repercussions.

[ffdemon]

I posted 139 times in 2022

12 posts created (9%)

127 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cloneenthusiast

@anstarwar

@jun-c

@bbqfish

I tagged 131 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#the bad batch - 49 posts

#echo - 43 posts

#arc trooper echo - 43 posts

#hunter - 27 posts

#tbb echo - 26 posts

#tech - 24 posts

#wrecker - 21 posts

#crosshair - 20 posts

#clone trooper echo - 18 posts

#omega - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 46 characters

#i just love the idea of urban legend bad batch

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

This scene always make me sad

Like Echo specifically dress like this to look the part right. What else that a droid he was supposed to try to pass for?

But he looks so confuse as he looks at himself.

Like he was kinda hoping people see thought the costume? People being too polite to call their bullshit? Hope the new Stormtrooper helmet have enough bad vision to not asks question but civilians does?

Seeing how he seem to be so hot under that mask, he can't really have forgotten how he is dress. Right?

It just makes me so sad for Echo.

69 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#4

Look who is overthinking about The Domino Squad against

I was re-watching "Clone cadets" episode again. Echo is the first to reach the beacon. Follow by Hevy and Fives. Last is Cutup Droidbait not event there since he down the tower having distracted the turrets. Droidbait is the first to fall in a blink of an eye,

The four at the top are the one getting out of Rishi outpost.

Cutup is the second to fall.

Hevy and Fives are third and fourth. Echo, the first one that grab the beacon that make them win "the Citadel" the name of the place that he would have been declared KIA, is the last Domino

151 notes - Posted September 21, 2022

#3

Please give me the Ultimate Dad Batch

You remember those cadets we see evacuating Kamino?

I want Crosshair to learn about that the Empire has plans for the last cadets and tubies of Kamino and goes: Not on my watches. He won’t let any other clones, event reg, being test subjects the way they have been. Then he finds a way to contact the rest of the batch to rescue them.

The other accepts and kind of kidnap Crosshair in the process and go into hiding with all those kiddos in a remote planet and raise the last of clones.

Why?

Because I want all of them safe, but most of it just imagine.

- Wrecker playfully roughhousing with the cadets as they all pill up on him. And fake they are vanquish him, like a lion with the cub.

- Tech sitting outside with some of them, teaching them about everything. Each day they go for something one of the cadets choose.

- Hunter doing “survival” camping with them to teach basic survival but to let them learn what freedom feel like

- Omega being the ultimate big sister with all of them. Showing them how to be a kid. She the one that insisted them to make “get well soon” card for Crosshair as hey remove the remain of his chip and he finally can heal.

- Crosshair insisting to continue their training. So they could defend themselves if (when) the Empire find them. He is firm but never push anyone beyond his limit and show them, his own way, how proud he is.

- Echo somehow finds himself taking care of the younger one. He can be found rocking to sleep the tubies. He the one tells stories before bed.

- They all get emotional when one of the cadets comes to them and tell them the name he chose for themselves.

I just want some clones to have a happier ending than most.

221 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

#2

So much I like about his scene. 1- How much in sync the three of them are. Mostly Echo and Anakin. Fresh out of the cryo and Echo know when to duck to not be in his general way. No hesitation. 2- That shoulder grab and nod from Crosshair. Those few seconds alone are the reason I can never get behind when people portray Crosshair as he only endures Echo presence in the team and not welcoming him.

That right there is a Crosshair seal of approval in my book.

And the fact Crosshair is not only approving of Echo as a trooper, but that he is trying to reassure him. At least, that how I see it. Let me explain At this point in the battle, the odds are not in their favour, with tri-droids arrival on top of the rest. How you think Echo must feel. All those people have been put in danger in part because of him. If they lost, a village full of innocent would be wiped out. Not mention his general, his captain and those troopers that risk their lives for nothing. All for him to probably be brought back to Techno Union.

But Crosshair has seen the worst odd with The Bad Batch. They don't have a 100% success rate for nothing.

274 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Rewatching "Aftermath"

Watching Hunter on his rock and the only thing I can think of is :

425 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[jorjinchiclete]

Ah I get why I like playing Medic and Heavy the most out of all characters.

It's The Protection.

[earnestly-endlessly]

Cherik angst!

Ooooh the angst!! The cherik fandom has an abundance of angst fics and I could probably make a list of hundred fics to recommend, but these are some of my favourite angsty cherik fics. I should warn you though, some of these require tissues.

Cherik Angst

Everyday Love in Stockholm – tahariel

Summary: Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world.

His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he's kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life's work and happiness.

Boden’s Mate – kaydeefalls

Summary: "Shaw has information that we need, and we need him alive to extract it," Moira says, and there it is: the job is on the table. Extraction.

XMFC/Inception fusion AU. Erik is an extractor, Alex is his point man. They're assembling a team to go after the most dangerous mind in dreamsharing: Sebastian Shaw. But unless Alex and the team can keep him in check, Erik's desire for vengeance might just rip the whole job apart around them -- and then there's the shade that haunts his dreams...

Ritual Self-Torture – TurtleTotem

Summary: Shaw is King, Charles is his royal consort and Erik is a Knight/Lord. Shaw is sterile but his kingdom can't find out, so he asks Erik to impregnate Charles.

He doesn't know Erik and Charles are in love.

The Winter of Banked Fires – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles Xavier has returned from the dead -- but is lost within his own mind. Rogue has cast aside her own power and doesn't know where she fits in the world any longer. The production of synthetic Cure means mutantkind itself is newly at risk. And Magneto, turned human against his will, is in despair until the day he feels a familiar consciousness tugging at his own

Us – Pangea

Summary: “Charles,” Erik says, and if his voice hits a pleading note then who can really blame him, “Charles, it’s me.”

It takes several longer moments before Charles musters up the strength to answer, breath stuttering horribly as he tries to breathe. He’s shaking, entire body trembling.

“Erik,” Charles says, his voice cracking, “Erik, I want to die.”

Enigma – Yahtzee

Summary: Erik dies, or finds a reversey-time mutant, or a magical time travelling device, and wakes up in the past. This time, though, it's before he ever met Charles - in fact, it's before his mother died.

He can save his mother that one time (thanks to his mastery over powers carrying back), but what does Erik do after that? Does he stick around, or escape and run to find Charles again (and hope everything doesn't go wrong)?

By Faint Indirections – kianspo

Summary: Erik is in his ~50s, and lonely and bitter. He survived the Holocaust and was only ~14 when the war ended; and even ~40 years later, living in a country that helped to end WW2 and the Third Reich, homosexuality is still a taboo topic. Then one day, he stumbles over Charles, who is young(early 20s) and bright and smart and cheeky and full of energy and beautiful. And moving in the same street where Erik lives.

Lonesome on the Shelf – ikeracity

Summary: After three years of marriage, Charles has to admit that his relationship with Erik has significantly cooled off. These days, they're barely ever home at the same time and it seems like every conversation they have turns into an argument. Charles misses the way they used to be, misses the spontaneous dinner parties and the surprise morning sex and the wake up calls in the early mornings to catch the sunrise. But it's going to take two of them to fix this marriage, and some days, it seems as if all Erik wants is to be rid of him.

A fic about rekindling marriage.

When the Spell Breaks – kianspo

Summary: Erik, a high-profile lawyer with a successful career, meets a 21-year-old grad student in a bar, and within a few short months marries him. He and Charles are blissfully happy, until Erik's boss runs a background check on Charles and discovers he's been cheating on Erik. Charles denies everything, as there was no affair, but Erik doesn't believe him and throws him out. As Charles tries to figure out how to survive and stay at school that he can no longer afford and makes a lot of bad if not plain dangerous choices, Erik has to fight his own battle of discovering the truth and winning Charles back.

The Tower and the Hurricane – dreamlittleyo

Summary:(Post-movie AU.) Five years after Shaw's death, Erik's predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn't really matter who's more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn't an option?

The Attempt – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles knows everything about Erik, knows how obsessive and self-destructive he is, how Erik would do anything, give anything, in his quest for vengeance against Shaw. But he also knows that Erik loves him in ways that aren't exactly platonic.

I'd like to see a completely straight!Charles, out of pure love and care of Erik, initiate a romantic relationship with him. It can be because he wishes to give Erik something positive in his life or because he thinks it might help change Erik's mind about Shaw, the reason is up to author. Also, while Charles finds intimacy with Erik strange and awkward, he does enjoy the new, non-romantic layers that have developed in their relationship.

Apple Seeds – pprfaith

Summary: Charles, Erik, apple seeds and Shakespearean love affairs.

Ashes, Ashes – winterhill

Summary: Post-apocalyptic AU — When the bombs fall, and mutually assured destruction occurs, it turns out that Shaw was right and radiation does enhance mutant powers. Snapshots of the XMFC main ensemble in the time after the bombs: Erik decides to stay, Moira thinks she might be the only human left, Raven is having trouble sleeping, and Charles is losing his mind.

Warnings: nuclear holocaust: death (death in general, not a specific character), cancer, burns, medical procedure, mutant powers gone awry

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Tequila on a spaceship – faerie_ground

Summary: In 2014, Charles Xavier gets brutally murdered and Erik Lehnsherr spends the rest of his life mourning his death.

In 3014, Captain Lehnsherr and CMO Dr Xavier are colleagues, best friends and maybe a little more besides that aboard the Magneto I.

The Tower and the Hurricane – dreamlittleyo

Summary: Post-movie AU.) Five years after Shaw's death, Erik's predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn't really matter who's more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn't an option?

Simple and Uncomplicated – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik and Charles had been fuck buddies for some, but when Charles is in an accident he figured their relationship would be over. Erik's visit to his bedside in the hospital changes his assumptions even as he has trouble believing Erik is sincere.

Lazarus – Clocks 

Summary: Erik is 19 when he says ‘I love you’ for the first time.

It would take five long years before Charles says it back.

Broken Eternity – CractasticDispatches

Sumnmary: It starts with being alone. It shouldn’t, perhaps, but it does because, of course, alone is what no one ever wishes to be.

Shout it Out Loud – dreamlittleyo

Summary: (Movie-Concurrent AU.) When Charles forges a telepathic link between himself and Erik, the two men find themselves bound together by more than just destiny. With the world on the brink of war, Charles and Erik struggle to cope with a psychic connection that may well be permanent.

Call Me By His Name – sinuous_curve

Summary: Charles wakes from the absence of noise.

There is an empty space in his room, beside his bed. Not quiet as in an abandoned room, but utterly, featurelessly blank. Like a box made of unblemished, impenetrable metal and Charles knows before he opens his eyes.

The Longest Word – septicwheelbarrow

Summary: "I'm Charles Xavier," he says, smiling from ear to ear. Then he gestures to his wheelchair. "Terminal spinal osteoblastoma, reaper due to collect in a year."

After some time, the man gestures at himself with a sardonic smile. "Same, one year. Lung." And then, reluctant, as if trying to keep his name to himself, "Erik."

I reject your reality and substitute my own. Doesn't really work that way, both ways.

Copy – chantefable

Summary: Charles wakes up without his memory. His sole caretaker, Erik, claims to be his husband, and tells him he's recovering from a car accident on their honeymoon.

Slowly falling for Erik again, Charles begins to regain his memories. He starts to notice strange things about his body, Erik, and their secluded mansion.

Myosotis – SomeCoolName

Summary: When Charles got back from Cuba, he lost the two things which made him stand: his legs and the love of his life, Erik Lehnsherr. Charles can get used to the wheelchair but he won't ever be able to get pass the loss of Erik.

"I wish I never met him" is something Charles says one night, maybe a bit drunk, absolutely wrecked for sure. It's a bit silly but Charles figures out his only solution is to use his own powers to erase Erik from his mind, progressively.

Except one day Erik comes back to the Xavier mansion to win him back. And even if Charles doesn't want to stop forgetting about him, Erik will do anything he can to convince him otherwise.

Das Haus am See – sareyen

Summary: The Lake House AU:

Erik is an estate planning lawyer who takes some time off to get away from the big city after his marriage fell apart. He lives in a picturesque lake house by Chautauqua Lake for almost two years, before moving back to New York City. This is in 2019.

Charles is a famous but very private author stuck in a creative rut, and moves to his lakeside estate for a short while to try and find a reason to write again. This is in 2017.

By magic or fate, Charles and Erik discover that the letter box at the lake house has the ability to send letters through time, between Charles in 2017 and Erik in 2019. Through letters that transcend the barriers of time, Charles and Erik fall in love. Charles vows to find Erik two years in his future, and Erik promises to wait for him. Two years - just two, meagre years.

But, fate is fickle, and time waits for no one.

Appropriate Boundaries – Yahtzee 

Summary: Charles has been having serious problems with back cramps in the year and a half since he's been in a wheelchair. His doctor prescribes massage therapy. But when Charles meets his masseur, Erik, in some ways they begin to heal each other. So how do you cross the boundaries between professional touch -- and the personal?

Unbound – Cesare, helens78

Summary: Thousands of miles apart, Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier form a soulbond. But when that bond is severed five years later, they have to spend the next ten years trying to rebuild their lives alone.

Do You Love Me – cgf_kat

Summary: Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon.

A Quiet Riot – cloudstroke (aQuired)

Summary: Erik can't stand the fact that his father has brought home a boy less than half his age.

But mostly because he's madly in love with Charles Xavier himself.

[brokestminimalist]

Broke Laundry: updated 2021

For the time being, let's skip talking about how almost all of us have too many clothes.   The clothes that you have get dirty, and must be washed.  I am going to assume you have access to a modern washing machine, either at your house or a laundromat. We'll call step one sorting:

Sorting: Ain’t nobody got time for this.  This is an extra chore that is 99% not necessary.  Unless you have specialty fabrics or are particular about how white your whites are, it’s just added  stress and a waste of time.  I don't actually own any white clothes anymore, but if I did I'd run a load of whites with a cup of bleach once a month. I do not own things that can’t survive the washing machine, either.  No delicates, no dry cleaning.  I wash towels with clothes, and sheets together with bedspreads. Cleaning rags and towels have their own basket and get washed when it gets full.

Laundry Detergent: Avoid the very cheapest for the sake of your darks, but there is no need to spring for the most expensive thing on the shelf.  In fact, I make laundry detergent from one part washing soda, one part Borax, and one part soap. A double batch is enough detergent to last three months for a single person. Good recipes can be had all over the internet, so go forth and find yourself one.  If you’re washing in cold water and your tap water is very cold, such as in the winter, you may find it necessary to stir your homemade detergent into a cup of hot water before putting it into the machine. Out of detergent?  A spoonful of dish soap will do in a pinch.  Regardless of whether you’re using store bought or homemade, don’t use too much detergent; it’s bad for the machine, the environment, and your clothes.  We do not want to buy new clothes until we absolutely have to, right?  Right.

Fabric Softener: I recently saw a headline about how Millennials are killing the fabric softener industry.  The truth is, they are prioritizing groceries and lights over luxuries like Downy.  If you must have it and can afford it, go ahead.  Measure carefully but don’t dilute unless the package says so.  Fabric softener sheets are a good alternative, if you are using a dryer.  Here at Brokest Minimalist, we use a Downy ball with white vinegar in it.  The vinegar cuts soap residue, softens most fabrics, and is much cheaper.  Plus it’s versatile enough to be used for cleaning as well.  An added bonus is that it doesn’t reduce the absorbency of your towels like regular fabric softener does.

Water:  Set your washer on Tap Cold. Yes, really.  Unless your clothes are very greasy, almost anything can be washed in cold water and will get just as clean.  It isn’t so much the temperature of the water or even the detergent that does the washing, as much as it is the action of the clothes rubbing against each other inside the machine.  Anything that’s machine washable can be washed in cold water, period.

Settings: On our machine at home, clothes go on “casual” and sheets/bedspreads on “heavy duty”. Don’t stress too much about this.  Choose a water level that is appropriate to how full the machine is, add your stuff, and go ahead.

Drying:  Here at Brokest Minimalist, we don’t dry anything in the dryer.  Why?  Because air dries stuff for free, that’s why.  Clothes dryers are one of the most frivolous uses of electricity in the modern world.  They are also one of the number one causes of fire in the United States, after candles and cooking fires.  Unless you are in a huge hurry, hang your clothes to dry. Outdoors if possible, as sun dried clothing smells much better than any fabric softener does.  You don’t even have to spend all afternoon pinning stuff to a clothesline like your great-grandma did, either! Our system is beautiful in its simplicity.  We take our clothes out of the washing machine, hang them on clothes hangers, and then hang the hangers on the clothesline.  If you have a smooth line, tie knots in it or use clothespins to keep stuff from sliding back and forth in the breeze.  If you don’t have a line, put one up or buy a portable or retractable one. In summer your clothes will be dry within an hour in direct sunlight, which is a comparable time to many dryers.  If it’s raining, you can hang them indoors over curtain rods, from your mantel, or on your shower curtain rod.  Even if it’s freezing outside, in direct sunlight your clothes will dry within a few hours. For free.  No kidding.  And UV light is a great sanitizer if you’re worried about germs! Here we hang our and towels and unmentionables on racks purchased from Amazon, such as this and this.  Another tidbit we have figured out, is that there is no need to wait until daylight to hang your clothes. In the old days it was nigh unheard of, but there’s no harm.  The morning dew won’t make your wet clothes wetter.   Do you work nights?  Do a load of laundry after you get home from work and hang it out to dry, even if it’s midnight.  It will be dry by lunchtime tomorrow.   This saves wear and tear on your clothes, it saves electricity, it won’t create extra static like the dryer, and hanging stuff is kind of a nice, meditative way to spend a few minutes. Take some deep breaths of fresh air, reflect on your day, let go of some anxiety.

Does all of this sound too complicated? Written down it’s a lot, but let us take you through a load of laundry we just did.  For the record, it is currently one o'clock in the morning.  It’s 31 degrees outside.

1) Put clothes in washer.  Not sorted, just all the clothes in the hamper or off your floordrobe, dumped into the washing machine.

2) It’s cold out, so put a tablespoon of detergent into a cup of hot water and stir.  Pour in washer. Put white vinegar in Downy ball, toss in washer.

3) Push start button and go do something else.  Read, take a nap, cook, clean bathroom. Write a long-winded Tumblr post.  Whatever.

4) When load is done, hang everything on hangers/racks still wet.  This is the longest part, and it takes 5-7 minutes, max. You can do it while watching tv or listening to music.

5) Carry your hung up clothes outdoors to the clothesline and hang them up, or to whatever indoor location you have deemed fit if it is raining.

These will be dry in a few hours except for very heavy things like thing hoodies or jeans, those may take longer.  Yes, even if it’s cool outside.  As long as there is direct sunlight, they will dry.  When you’re ready, bring them in. All the clothes are already on hangers, so just stick them in your closet.

Once upon a time we had a lot of drama about laundry.  We had fights over whose turn it was, how much Tide to put in, and who was going to clean the lint trap.  When the dryer broke, I absolutely agonized over the three hundred dollars it would take to buy a new one.  That three hundred dollars meant going without cable for two months, it meant scrimping for groceries and paying a late fee on the phone bill.  It was more than an entire paycheck, just to dry clothes!

Today that same dryer is sitting in our laundry room in disuse.  We have it, for emergencies.  A drink spilled on a work shirt, perhaps, that needs to be worn in 30 minutes.  It’s good for fluffing up pillows, on the no-heat setting. It wasn’t worth the stress or the tears or the three hundred dollars we put into it all those years ago.  It’s basically a glorified shelf for our detergent now:

So today, I challenge you, broke person.  Don’t wear those grungy jeans for one more day.   Do a load of laundry, as frugally as you can.  Measure your detergent carefully, hang your clothes to dry.  Your clothes will last longer, your utility bill will be lower, and you will have a few minutes of peace and quiet outside.  It’s less wear and tear, less electricity, and less stress, and that’s a minimalist win.

If you do choose to dry your clothes in a dryer, beware of over-drying as that can cause static and extra wear and tear on your clothes.  Clean out your lint trap, it will make your clothes dry faster and reduce the risk of fire.  If you are too broke to have dryer sheets, wool dryer balls are pretty cheap and effective for fabric softening and reducing static.  We have also heard that you could use tennis balls or a couple balls of wadded up aluminum foil for this purpose.

Happy washing!

Some links: homemade detergent at TSD, and Mr. Electricity’s opinion on dryers.

[hellyeahheroes]

Robin(2021) #1 Review

Opening this comic with an assessment of a character that I have no choice but to agree with is a cheap way to score points with me.

Anyways, we caught heat for being unfair to this story since it was announced because all of us wanted it to be a Cass story since forever. And it became yet another thing Damian absorbs. I mostly ignored it because I’ve always been open about my disdain for the character and his fandom for nearly a decade. I never liked Damian because put these characteristics on a non-white passing character, they’d be dead inside of year. Then again I hate almost all of Grant Morrison monstrosities.

Regardless, new story who dis is in full effect here. We open this bad boy up with Damian gone missing and the Batfamily searching for him. Nightwing tried asking Damian’s old Teen Titans team and they obviously don’t know and probably hope Damian is dead. Tim checked Arkham Ruins(???) and Damian wasn’t there. I honestly don’t think Tim was trying to find Damian. Steph and Cass checked Damian’s farm and Steph concluded Damian has been there at least because while Damian may be a little shit, he loves his dog and pet bat dragon. Barbara checked facial recognition pings and his transactions and dude is an IRS nightmare.

Damian is missing. Bruce is worried that maybe making a violent murderous preteen Robin raised in a cabal of killers to be chief murderer was a bad idea and is worried. Barbara ensures him that they will find his son and we cut to Damian fighting Snake guy in some musty ass fight put somewhere. Because of course it’s a musty ass fight pit because while the story is well drawn, it never claimed to be not cliche.

Damian hands the scrub his ass and it turns out Damian is trying to earn a marker to participate in some tournament. I liked this panel.

Not because of the artist flex of changing the art style, but it establishes Damian with a relatable hobby, reading manga. And not just a Shounen as you expect him to read but a slice of life manga which kind of puts his life in perspective. Also the lesson in the manga is reflective of what happens in the comic. Damian’s mastery is reflective of how he sees Hana. Hana decides to go beyond what her masters taught her. She decides to innovate and make her art her own. And that’s indicative of another flaw of Damian: Damian leans of the prestige of his teachers. He is the student that replicates the style 1:1. He wants to inherit Batman’s mantle, but doesn’t want to shed his teachings that he is proud of. And it comes down to this idea that Damian refuses to innovate and adapt because he is hiding behind his masters.

This panel saved the story so good job.

And after a talk with dead Alfred, it’s revealed that Damian is on this journey as a way to mirror Bruce’s journey into becoming Batman. It’s his way to iron his resolve without a catalyst to find a need to. It highlights his naïveté. He thinks that he can just simply copy the steps and get the same results.

Regardless what happens next simultaneously undermines the story or the impact of it.

Okay, when you think of Martial artists in DC, you immediately think Batman, Shiva, Deathstroke, Black Canary, Bronze Tiger, Richard Dragon, and Shiva. Why I said Shiva twice? Because Shiva is the pinnacle.

So to reveal that three premier martial artists in the universe are not only not participating but they were paid off to not participate, cheated out, or were subbed in as an entry replacement, it undermines the promotion. It’s like going to a Beyonce Concert only to find out that between the words in small print Beyonce and Concert was ‘s Sister’s and now you are watching Grammy award winning Solange. Sure, it’s an unique experience but it ain’t Beyonce.

And also, there is no amount in the world that would keep Shiva away from this tournament if it’s as prestigious as it’s led to be. Let’s be real. If anything, it’s far more likely that she saw the roster of scrubs and decided to make some scratch.

There are two characters that I recognize: Connor Hawke and Rose Wilson. I am not familiar with Connor so I am not sure if he is out of place. Rose is fine but y’know, scrub. I’m sorry Rose Wilson got her ass handed to her by Cass in the previous universe. There is no universe where I take her seriously in a fighting tournament to crown greatest fighter because the ass stomp was so thorough that Cass was beating Slade’s ego by proxy.

Back to the comic, Damian interrupts the host and basically is the fighting tournament trope of overly confident disrespectful guy with too many accolades which he will proudly tell you about them. What I like about this is the nice nod to the previous manga panel. Damian is not a great fighter. There I said it. Damian’s ability hinges on the idea that he was trained by the greatest killers and Batman but the issue is that name prestige doesn’t make great fighters. Too many times, comic books overly rely on this idea of fighting being a what you know and not being a game of not getting hit and getting hits in. It does not matter if Damian is trained by the League and Batman and it’s questionable as to how much Batman taught him in the first place. Hence why we see Damian with a sword or staff to compliment his lack of range. Damian can’t read muscle twitches like a Cass or Shiva so he has a normal reactive response and comics never highlighted his ability. The most impressive thing I’ve seen Damian do is catch a Batarang which is something I’ve seen Tim do. Damian overly relies on the idea that his teachers taught him to be the best when they simply taught him to survive in a fight.

“But why does Cass get away with it?,” you ask. Cass has this broken hax that is reading muscle twitch and immediately knowing the instant of what you are going to do before you do it or decide to do. Cass doesn’t need range because to her, you are screaming your intentions. She doesn’t need to block an attack when she can just parry. She doesn’t need to step back when she can just step forward while slipping all attacks. She is an autistic savant at fighting with an absolute defense. Damian is just another badass teen in a world of badass adults.

And the humbling of Damian begins...again.

Pros:

-Damian’s new costume. I like that he is branching out and starting to own his own colors. It’s nice.

-Using a character flaw to make it a theme. I like Chekhov’s gun via teachable moment. In tournament arcs, what separates the good ones and the bad ones is the idea that the hero simply must overcome their opponents and not their own self. This is why Yuyu Hakusho is awesome.

- Great art and nice continuity. It’s nice that Damian’s past wasn’t ignored for once and they didn’t just throw his Teen Titans characterization down the tubes. Say what you want, but it was arguably Damian’s longest run in spite of his fans hating it. And contrary to what they believe, it was very much in character for him. My fear going into this that Damian would not face any fallout and lo and behold he ran away.

- it’s a good start for a Damian story. Say what you want, but it’s unique in that the little shit gets his comeuppance immediately. And not that just by losing, but by dying. Damian has killed before and readily justifies it because he never realizes the weight of taking someone’s life. He’s been killed before but those were painted in a way that he is valiant. Here, this is death caused by his own arrogance. He mocks a fighter for talking shit and gets murked while talking shit. He spouts names of his own teachers and expects people to care or be weary as if Rose Wilson and Connor aren’t there. It’s a tournament sponsored by the League of Assassins, Damian. They have been taught by the league too.

Cons:

-Look I get promotion. No promoter is going to undermine their product but the fact that this tournament reeks like ABA is killing my interest to give a shit. It’s a convenient caveat to say that, “Well, a character won this so they can have the title but the title doesn’t mean anything.” I know of regardless of whom wins this, they aren’t the best. Go ham or don’t at all.

-not enough emphasis of the importance of this arc. Why even have this tournament? What’s the prize? What’s even the point?

-While the art is nice, the action is framed poorly. I like physical action like this to be nearly choreographed in a way I can see and piece movement in my head. The two fight scenes we get are somewhat disjointed in that it’s just poses. For example, Flatline’s first kick makes no sense at all and I don’t get her follow up. Trying to picture the movement hurts my head and in an action concept like this, it’s best to frame action scenes as more than doing poses. Here is a good example:

This only emphasizes the action and gets the reader to acknowledge that this a tournament of great fighters or at least a great fighting story.

All in all, do I think this story is off to a good start? Yes. Is it going to change my opinion on Damian? Hell no. My reaction to Damian getting his ass handed to him was this.

The issue is that it never sticks. Damian can learn and be a better person but the development never sticks. It becomes a cyclical series of events because whoever writes him next will just keep writing him as this shitty entitled murder rich kid who never learns anything and gets validated somehow. It’s been over a decade and I’m tired of the same excuses of his shitty behavior. I am tired of writers validating it or excusing it.

Damian losing isn’t an outcome I care for because it’s wasted on him. Honestly I am more interested in Connor and Rose being there. I have no faith that it will stick nor does it undo the shitty idea of the character. I have never wanted to see Damian fight. It’s never been fun to read about nor has the impetus of his character emphasized the ability or style. Placing Damian in an Enter the Dragon style tournament lacks the pizzazz of Cass doing the same thing. For example, let’s try Marvel.

Let’s say someone pitches an idea of a tournament arc styled after Game of Death. Immediately you think Martial Artists non-powered. Danny Rand, Daredevil, Elektra, Shang-Chi, Pei and Colleen Wing. Okay, instead of giving those characters the honor, you give the story to Black Cat. Honestly, I’d read it because Felicia could sell me a documentary on grass and I’d buy it but the point stands, why does Damian have this Bruce Lee inspired Martial Arts story versus the actual Chinese or East Asian Martial Arts focused member of the Batfamily, Cassandra Cain?

But this has nothing to do with what could have been. It’s a fun beginning of a possibly fun arc. In that regard, it delivers but what’s the point?

Like I said, fun story.

@ubernegro

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Ash.”

A couple people were showing some interest in other Alien characters aboard the ship, and I thought I would give you all some insight into that. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you all have a great day. 

“You have ruined this family.”

“What have you done!” 

“The war is the only thing left for you now, so make yourself useful and die.”

-

Etium slowly lifted his head from the computer where he sat staring blankly at the accounting spreadsheet on the screen. Beside him, the other two Tesraki’s chairs were empty. He sighed, and slowly turned back to the accounting. They had likely finished their half of the books hours ago, leaving him to sit in the darkness alone with his own strange thoughts. His four fingered hands clicked at the keys of the human made keyboard,

He was good at typing, pretty fast for someone who was missing two requisite fingers, but he was nothing in comparison to the others.

He was nothing in comparison to most Tesraki.

Etium was slow when it came to doing the books, repeatedly checking every line and ever string of numbers for any possible mistake that could have been made. The process took him hours longer than it should have, but finally he stood, pushing back his chair and hopping down to the floor. The human ship whirred softly in the distance. It was a comforting sound, but he had always found some measure of comfort in humanity.

Etium had been hit the hardest by the huminization phenomenon. It didn’t surprise him all that much. He had fought side by side with humans since the Drev war, and the changes in him had taken a long time to develop. They ran deep now through his body as sure as his blood. WIth skills honed in human war, and being one of few survivors, he was quick to react to sounds, followed movement more easily, and could read body language better than almost any other alien he knew.

Dr Krill wasn’t even as good as he considered himself.

That’s what war did to a person.

He reached up to his torn ear and shivered at the smell of smoke that seemed to waft up from his fur. He could never get the smell of ash out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

Etium knew there was something wrong with him, but he kept that to himself. The others tended to avoid him, and that was alright. He was friends with the Finnari, and while they were a bit sensitive, he supposed that was ok. He didn’t need anyone asking questions about what he was doing and why he was there.

He ducked through one of the maintenance corridors, and into the hallway behind the rec room.

He could hear humans and Drev talking and laughing on the other side, but when he passed through the next door, he found the hall opened into a large-ish storage room that was lined in boxes and crates. Inside was what remained of the Omen crew. Tesraki, Finnari, Celzex and Yeb. They had a little place here for those aliens who found it difficult to constantly interact with humans.

Yeb was a bit of a special case as she seemed to hop between both without much trouble. She lounged on one of the crates, her tail swishing back and forth against the box below her, bright green fur along her back, waving slightly in the air currents.

Etium leaned against the wall making no noise, and interacting with no one.

He wouldn’t have minded hanging out with humans, and drev, but….. Every time he did he just couldn’t shake the smell of smoke.

Why was he here?

Because he had seen a human boldly risk his life for two wounded alien soldiers.

Etium remembered the red sky above and the ash covered ground beneath. He remembered the wounded Rundi soldier at his side as the creature stalked towards them from the darkness. He remembered the flash of blue, and then an animal howl as the human came charging from nowhere.

When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the blood curdling scream of pain the human had given off as his limbs were ripped from his body.

He shook himself trying to shake the smoke away.

“Clan is more important than anything else.”

Etium lifted his head, arms still crossed over his chest.

“Then mean nothing.” Yeb was saying, “My parents abandoned me in an ice cave when I was just a cub.”

“Not our fault your species is defective.” Lord Avex was saying.

The burg lifted his hands in an attempt to keep the piece, technicolor wings flickering behind him, “Not now, all of you we must remember that as different species we all have different beliefs and needs. He pressed his hands together. The Burg do find clan very important, but it was for our survival for the longest time. There are plenty of other species that don’t need such things, like the Vrul or the Gibb for example, who are solitary creatures.”

The group of three finnari huddled close together and nodded.

They wouldn’t be likely to argue, they hated conflict and tried to keep the peace as much as it was possible.

He glanced over to the side surprised to find Waffles, the dog, lying with her head on her paws, around her neck, the snake creature Jeffery hung like a boa scarf.

He supposed she had any right to be here like the rest of them, she wasn’t human and neither was the snake. Though neither of them were classified as sentient and didn’t have the intelligence to speak. Waffles licked at her paws and Jeffery lifted his head turning to look at the speakers as if he was listening intently.

“This is not about biology, this is about the facts. There is strength in numbers, and numbers can win out over force anyday. Humans are the best example of this and you all know it. They managed to survive on a death world by making packs.”

Lord Avex did have a point, but lord Avex was also known for being an egotistical asshole.

That was sort of the defining feature of Celzex.

The furry little creatures were very proud, and very loyal, so they were both a blessing and an absolute pain to have on your side.

Most of the time they just liked causing problems for the sake of causing problems.

“There is nothing wrong with a solitary existence. My species has been living as single occupants inside a distanced society for a very long time.”

Lord Avex snorted, “Might I also point out that you society is a fascist Authoritarian dictatorship recovering from a pandemic crisis and refuses to join the GA to control their own citizens?”

The hair on the back of her body stood up, “Oh like your planet is any better. Roving warring clans who eat their own children.”

“Please, Peace.” THe burg was saying.

“You have no place in this. The burg have lived under a corrupted monarchy for ages.”

Etium sighed and closed his eyes.

Apparently, he had sighed much louder than he intended, and when he opened his eyes the entire room was looking at him,

“You got something to say.” Avex growled, “Anything to offer from a corporate capitalist hellscape.”

Etium pushed himself off from the wall, “No, I have nothing to say.”

Avex bristled, and when he did he got even fluffier, “I don’t think we are done here. I want to hear what you have to say.”

Etium sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of this one, “I think that all of our societies suck, they just all do it equally.”

The room bristled, but he kept going. He had stuck his foot in it and now he was going to have to deal. He looked at yeb and Avex, “Both of you are true about the other, same with the burg sorry to say.” He nodded over at the winged creature, “But think about it, all of us suck in some way or another,. My species destroyed our own natural habitats in the name of progress, He looked at the Finnari, No cohesive leadership, and a societal wide inability to make decisions. The Vrul live under a corrupted communist system and the Rundi are all politicians, so guess where that leads us. The Drev are a fractured group of clans bent on killing each other for no other reason than the fact that it is honorable. And don’t even get me started on humans, they are the worst of us all, since they can do everything we can and more.”

He sort of expected the uproar that followed, but kept his head low to avoid having to deal with it. He brushed a hand through his fur, attempting, mostly to brush the ash from it, and despite being able to feel it with his fingertips, he saw none break loose.

The room grew louder and louder until a sharp bark broke the silence.

The room went very quiet very suddenly.

He turned to see waffles had risen up into a sitting position, her hackles raised.

She growled low in her throat , and the entire room calmed down very quickly after that, Jeffery opened his mouth and turned his head like a periscope around the room.

Waffles slid back onto the floor and rested her chin on her paws ears sticking straight up as she sighed.

The room was only slowly able to return to its former discussion, though everyone remained mostly quiet.

Etium slumped back against the wall. He could see the other Tesraki across the room staring at him. He tried to ignore them for the most part, he didn’t really fit in with them to any sort of degree. He didn’t blame them.

He wasn’t particularly good with finances.

He didn’t have to be though, most humans were pretty poort at it too, so any ability whatsoever was considered good. That was another reason why he was here. If he was slow and ok at handling money, then he was going to be fine. If he tried to work anywhere else as a Tesraki….

He'd be fired

Or disowned…

Etium quietly slipped from the room, out and down the hallway. He knew where he was going, and followed his own memory down through the hallways until he came to a door. He knocked once.

“Come in.”

The door slid open and he stepped into a room lit by soft yellow light. Dr Adric was sitting at his desk, skin glowing a pale yellow in the dim lighting. He looked up, and when he smiled his teeth flashed white.

“Etium, it is good to see you. I didn’t expect you till our session tomorrow.”

Etium wandered into the room glancing down at the diagrams on the wall, and the large books on the shelves beside the desk. “Do you want me to leave.”

“No, of course not, take a seat.”

He did and stared up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Etium was quiet for a while, but finally opened his mouth to speak, “I can still smell the ash sometimes, Feel it in my fur when I go to bed. It…. doesn't really bother me most of the time, and I know it’s not real, but it certainly feels that way.”

Dr Adtric leaned on his desk and nodded, “Did you know somatic hallucinations are extremely common In Tesraki.”

He rubbed his fur, “Really?”

“Yes, at least one in twenty report small things. Feelings of items brushing over their fur even when nothing is there. If it starts to bother you, come to me and we will look into helping it. Otherwise just remember the exercises I taught you.”

He shifted in his seat and absently looked at the wall, “So if Somatic hallucinations are common in Tesraki….. Than what about everyone else?”

Dr Adric smiled at him. His expression, both charming and calming at the same time. He had an eir about him that just seemed to make things slow down and relax. It was a nice feeling to have.

“Well both Vrul and Gibb are prone to psychosis with obsessive and grandiosity characteristics. Most Vrul I know could be classified as having some sort of anxiety. Rundi are commonly seen with OCD. Celzex presents with characteristics of Antisocial personality disorder.  Finnari can commonly be seen with dependent personality disorders. Both the Drevb and the Starborn, have a high rate of narcissism. In the case of the starborn, they have a 100% rate at this time…. Though to be fair we only have one starborn”

Etium couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Humans have all of those things I guess, since you have a name for all of them.”

“Yes. Though, I would say that I work most closely with Post Traumatic Stress.”

“Like what I have?”

“Similarly yes, though yours presents differently.”

“That’s what the Admiral’s dog is for? He said she was a PTSD dog.”

“That would be correct.”

Etium leaned back in his seat and stared out the window behind Adric. The man said he presented with listlessness, difficulty concentrating, and emotional detachment. He didn’t have flashbacks or stress associated, which is why he couldn't be entirely diagnosed, bu7t the two of them were pretty sure whatever he had was similar. They had thought about depression on one or two occasions, but he didn’t have trouble getting out of bed, or doing things that he enjoyed. He just got listless and distracted a lot.

Adric thought it might be an entirely different issue from what humans could get, but as of yet, there wasn’t enough research to determine that. They were working on it in their own right now, and he had been feeling a little more present, but he still wasn’t really there yet.

He hoped that soon he would be out of the rut he was stuck in.,

“Have you managed to tell the Admiral, like we had been talking about.”

Etium picked at the fur on his arm, “He seems…. Too busy to talk to me and I…. well I don’t know what it would accomplish.”

“I think it would be good for you to talk to someone who experienced the war.”

Etium sighed, “I didn’t really do much in the war. I sat there and just… was scared. The humans did everything.”

“I think you might find there are humans that feel the same way you do. I encourage you to talk to him. Knowing the man myself, I have no doubt that he will be accepting  of your story.” He held up his hands, “I don’t want to push you, but I do encourage you to let him know.”

I think it would be good for both of you

[starshiprangerash]

Ok, I got a note, so here is the unedited one shot I wrote.

Just a heads up: I wrote this at 5am, it was October 2021(so canon complaint at the time), and is riddled with typos (cause I wrote it at 5 am, and this is unedited)

Tw: Suicide

"Hello Dream" Tubbo greeted. He was calm. No sign of fear, even though the man in front of threatened to kill him 9 months ago.

"Hello Tubbo." Dream greeted. He was confident. He believed he had the upper hand, dispite the lack of equipment. He looked at the smaller boy, even though most people would have given him the title of man, but Dream didn't give him that much respect. "Where's my armour?" he asked.

Tubbo looked at him, the man was a little unnerved, but hide his emotions dispite the fact his mask was destroyed. "Do you remember calling me a pawn?"

The man was slightly confused by this, but still hid behind his confidence. I mean this was little ol Tubbo. He couldn't hurt a fly. So he smiled, "Yeah, I do."

The boy hummed at that. There was a moment of silence. "Do you know why pawns are important?"

"No, I don't." The man was getting inpatient. He knew he could take this child, but then he might not get his armour back. Best play along with the foolish boy.

"If a pawn can survive the battlefield of the board, they can become something else. A rook, a bishop, a knight, or even a queen."

"Is that so?." He said with slught sarcasm.

The boy stood for a moment looking at Dream. The man didn't know what the look was, but before he could decipher it, the boy turned and started to walk away. Dream stood still for a momeny before following.

"You know I'm one of the longest people to survive on this server with one life? Probably the longest actually, because Phil and Techno aren't very forth coming with information." The boy said as he walked along a path only he could find.

Dream simply nodded at this. He didn't particularly care. The boys life would be over once he got his armour.

The two walked the rest of the journey in silence.

They eventually reached a small platform made out of cobblestone.

"Here we are." The boy said while stepping on yhe platform.

Dream followed suit, and they descended down into the world.

When they reached the bottom Dream noticed the room was made out of blackstone, much like a few other builds in the servers history. You would think with everything he's been through, Tubbo would hate this brick, he thought to himself.

Speaking of, the boy had walked off the platform and was staring at the man. Dream realizing he was waiting for him, stepped off the platform. Tubbo nodded and hit a button, which raised the platform back up. He then took the button off the wall.

Dream didn't think anything of it, he could just kill the boy, and take the button off him to escape.

"How much do you know about chess?"

Dream was growing slightly tired of the chess questions, "I know how to win."

The boy nodded as he walked over to the wall. "Tell me on this scenario what am i? Am i still a pawn, or did i survive the battlefield long enough to become something more?"

"You're still a pawn." he responded with no hesitation.

He hummed. While still having the wall he said, "And i guess you see yourself as the Chessmaster. Moving the pieces around. Despite being in prison for 9 months."

The man laughed, "I may have been in prison, but i can gaueentee I have done more than you have. Which is why you're still a pawn. Do you think you're a queen." He said as a joke.

The boy turned to face him, button still in hand. "Well I started as a pawn, and despite your belief, I have done things since we've last spoke. But what did I become? A knight is a piece you still sacrfice, but with more playability. A bishop is restricted and hard to use end game if you don't know what to do. A rook is an ideal piece, can move mang places and has the ability to attack and defend well enough. And the Queen is arguably the most important piece on the board. The most powerful. But still expendable, and can be used as good bait."

Dream was amused by this, "You think this a queen's sacrifice?

The boy paused, "Maybe in the game you and Tommy play.but in the game we are playing, it doesn't matter really." He turned to face the wall again.

"We aren't playing a game. You've always been the pawn in Tommy's game."

Unbeknownst to the man, the boy smiled at that. He took the button and placed it. "Tell me Dream do you know the term Zugzwang?"

He paused, "No, I don't believe I do."

The turned, the smile still on his face, and pushed the button. The wall moved out of the way and behind it was room with something Dream didn't recognize. The boy once again turned away and grabbed the button. He walked over to the weird object and continued, "I have a feeling you don't know what this is. I could explain it, but I'm afraid that's not really in our time frame. So, I'll just call it what it is. I'm sure you've heard of a nuke."

For the first time in this encounter, Dream faltered. His confidence fell. When did Tubbo learn how to make a nuke? How did he? Dre regaining his composure asked, "Don't you need to launch that?"

The boy smiled again, he almost looked amused, "Usually, but not with this one, it's able to be denotated right here."

Dream remembered a few things in this moment. The elevator was no longer down here. The only way out was a button in Tubbo's hands. They were far away from anyone else on ther server. "So you plan on killing yourself? What about Tommy, or Ranboo, or that kid of yours Michael wasn't it?" Dream asked, trying to conceal the desperation in his voice.

Tubbo however just walked closer to the nuke. "Zugzwang, is a chess term. And it's how I would describe out board. It's when a player realizes they will be checkmated, and they have two options. Resign, or play to the end, prolonging the inevitable.

"All those months ago, you called my near death checkmate. I realized you were right. There was no escape. I wamted to resign. Tommy made me keep playing. And I did, but the inevitable is here. My checkmate." He said as he reached the bomb. He reached in to grab something.

"But what about your son, doesn't he deserve his dad."

Tubbo paused, "Dream the moment your broke out I knew I was dead. You would come for your armour, and then kill me. So instead of going out on your terms I brought you here. The only escpae from a checkmate, a stalemate. Neither of us win. And I make the world safer for my son."

Dream looked around trying to find away out of the blackstone room.

Tubbo reached for the dead man's switch.

"Goodbye Dream, this is checkmate."

----------------------------------------------------

Ranboo was in the burger van. Tommy was building his paradise. Wilbur and Quackity were arguing about something. Techno and Phil were training in the basement. Niki was on her way to the artic. Fundy was helping Foolish finish the bunker. Hbomb was feeding his animals. Sapnap was asking Karl about the library again. Michael McChill was at his microphone. Michael the piglin was playing with his chicken. Puffy was reading the letter from her mother. Eret was building a new addition to their museum. Ponk was figuring out what their dreams of their ancestors meant. Sam was sitting in an empty prison. George was sleeping. Callahan was watching silently.Ant was recovering. Bad and Skeppy were sitting in their house. Jack was in his hotel. Hannah was practicing with Punz again. Purpled was tending his farms. Slime was still in his hole, but somehow knew. Connor was waiting.

They all read the notifications.

Tubbo_ was blown up by Tubbo_

Dream was blown up bu Tubbo_

Schaltt was surprised. Mexcian Dream welcomed his double. Ghostbur wasn't alone anymore.

[stillness-in-green]

I felt like the plf war was rushed

1.Plf advisors getting hype but no payoff

2.Only miruko, Momo, and Kirishma got time to shine

3.Machia got defeated to easily

4.The war felt more like a raid

I don't know if I feel like it was rushed, per se--it's by far the longest arc in the story so far by number of chapters, and would be even if you cut off the Tartarus jailbreak and the entirety of the hospital aftermath. What it absolutely does feel like to me is unbalanced.

You note that the "war" feels more like a raid, and you're right. As a caveat, it's worth keeping in mind that "Paranormal Liberation War" as a name for the arc in question is entirely an invention of the fanbase. To the best of my knowledge, the reasoning for the name was that big action shonen series like BNHA (Naruto, Bleach, Hunter x Hunter, etc) always have a war arc, so what we were seeing in the lengthy, mass combat confrontation with the PLF had to be HeroAca's equivalent. It's not a term that's in the manga itself, however, not called as such by the characters, not referred to as such by Horikoshi or his editors, not even namedropped in chapter or volume titles. If it feels like a raid, that's probably because that's what it was intended to be.

And that's the problem, really. This arc shouldn't have been about a couple of raids; it should have been about a war.

(Below the cut: a bunch of fired-up complaining. Uses some harsh language, and talks about both injuries and deaths we did see and some we logically should have.)

From the outset, we were told that the resources Shigaraki had amassed were "on par with, or even stronger than" the resources of the hero-saturated society. Yet, we're expected to believe that a force that strong is so easily taken down by a single coordinated set of raids? Yes, the heroes had the benefit of surprise, but there's just so much that doesn't work for me.

First off, and to get this out of the way, it's ridiculous that the heroes even had the benefit of surprise. The MLA had an unknown number of hero double agents. They had people in the government; they had people in the infrastructure. This is an organization that had been living undercover completely unsuspected for multiple generations--how did the HPSC ever manage to carry out a massive, country-wide investigation on such a secretive group and coordinate multiple simultaneous, comprehensive raids without a single person finding out and alerting the higher-ups over a period of only three and a half months?

When exactly did Hawks have time to go and revive Best Jeanist--which he tells us he did personally--such that none of the bugs and micro-cameras he was covered with picked up on it, and both he and BJ could be back in the positions they needed to be in for the raid to begin?

How did Skeptic find out about the raid such that he only discovered it at the last possible second and not minutes, even hours, before it kicked off? How did hundreds of heroes (and even "hundreds" is being conservative, given the fact that they had seventeen thousand people to detain) close in on the villa without anyone from the PLF noticing, either Skeptic with his information network or mundane precautions like people on watch?

Even granting the heroes their surprise advantage--which I don't want to--if the advisors were all supposedly "stronger than the average hero," why didn't we see any of them winning? Okay, yes, Hose Face beat Midnight, but he had every possible advantage in that "fight"; I hardly count it as some big impressive defeat that shows us that the villains were holding their own.

Here's another thing: the MLA styled themselves as an army--they were demonstrably trained in troop tactics. When we saw them in Deika, even their nameless on-the-ground people were capable of coordinating with each other on the fly in response to the movements of the enemy, as we saw come up repeatedly:

Yeah, they were off-guard at first, but as soon as the advisors made the front line (which, you'll note, was immediately), that disadvantage really should have begun eroding. Certainly once Geten--Geten! The number one MLA member most willing to disregard collateral damage! And there he was being a proper leader!--got to the front and started yelling orders, we should have seen the PLF rallying, and I can't imagine any sensible justification for the tides not turning when a) Re-Destro showed up to occupy the highest-ranked hero on the field, b) a bunch of heroes peeled off to try to stop Machia only to get trampled for their efforts, and c) Trumpet got dug out.

You know who don't style themselves as an army, though? Heroes. Oh, they get some basic lessons in cooperation as students, but the extent of such lessons we see is stuff like "why it's important for heroes to have signature moves"--so that on group missions, their reputations will precede them and fellow heroes will already know their shtick. U.A. teaches the odd lesson plan that involves the kids fighting in groups, but there's a huge difference between you and 3 to 6 of your buddies fighting a similarly-sized group in a practice fight, or a handful of heroes teaming up to take down some criminal low-lives, and the mass combat scenario that was the raid. For heaven's sake, look at our closest other equivalent: the raid on the Hassaikai base. At every turn in that encounter, the heroes let themselves get split up and picked off, winnowing down their numbers. It's even explicit in the narrative that hero team-ups were, in the age of All Might, uncommon, and heroes are only just beginning to adjust to fighting in teams. The erstwhile MLA should have had the advantage there.

As to Machia's defeat, I think the big problem with it is not how it happened, per se, but the timescale involved. The plan itself was sound enough, and even with all the kids' efforts, it still took Machia reaching Shigaraki and not getting any new orders to follow to really do him in. Given what we can extrapolate about his movement speed, though, I just don't think the kids should have had time to set all those traps, especially given how much of that equipment would have had to be fabricated by Momo on the fly. I know she's gotten stronger and all, and good for her, but you're telling me that in the four months between Joint Training and the raid, she went from passing out because she created a bag of goodies and one (1) cannon to being totally fine and still able to coordinate her fellow students while cranking out 23 jars of sedative, dozens of feet of rope/cable, multiple fire-resistant coats, explosives they somehow had time to bury, and three cannons?

For fuck's sake, Jirou gave Machia's ETA as under ten seconds. Yeah, Mount Lady slowed him down, but "only a little"--how much time could she possibly have bought them, that the kids were able to to coordinate and enact everything that plan involved?

You guys, go read this post by @codenamesazanka. Machia is so fast. So unbelievably, incredibly fast. "Twice as fast as the fastest train in the world" fast. "Horikoshi clearly did not stop to think about the distances involved here" fast. Three miles in ten seconds fast. It would have been hard enough to square with the needs of the plot that the kids were sufficiently far from the villa to have the kind of time they needed to swing Momo's plan at all, but Horikoshi explicitly letting Machia get right on top of them before the kids even start just makes it completely impossible for me to credit. Machia clearly being slower aboveground than he is when burrowing does not make that much difference to my suspension of disbelief.

My other big complaint? More people should have died, for real. The PLF warriors would not have been holding back. They were ready and willing to kill anyone they came up against. The heroes did have to hold back, because heroes, as we're told over and over again, are not supposed to kill, no matter how dire the circumstances. That difference in ability to exercise force should have been yet another significant advantage for the PLF. I could write an entire list of characters that I think could have reasonably been killed during the raids. That wouldn't be to say that I think any individual, specific character on that list should have died, just that, based on the parameters as they were presented to audience, some number of them should have.

I mean, honestly. How did Horikoshi wanna show us Gang Orca's unmoving claw in the wake of Machia's passage and not have Gang Orca on the list of the dead? How did Fat Gun run right into a mass melee and still have enough fat left over afterward to survive getting trampled by a walking mountain? How did Thirteen survive not getting pulled out of the hospital basement when Shigaraki's Decay hit? How did Trumpet survive getting a staircase dropped on top of him? How did Gran Torino survive a fist through his tiny old man chest cavity?

I could go on and on, but it's not just about the deaths, either. I'm not saying that Kamui Woods necessarily should have died by swinging himself face-first into a blast of blue fire, but I am saying that he should have been out of commission for longer than three goddamn days. You bet your ass I'm saying that after telling us that Hawks' weak point is fire, making us watch him spend at a solid minute or more with his wings wholly enveloped in Dabi's 2000 degree flames, and having Dark Shadow exclaim that his back is completely burned away, Hawks should never have grown his wings back, much less so quickly that they were already visible under his shirt a single day later.

More deaths, more maiming--heck, even more retirements. I'm not saying I love that kind of thing in my fiction--I don't, actually. I think an overreliance on it is a sign of edgelordy nonsense. But the scenario that we had demanded to be treated with the kind of gravity that would have led to such an outcome. To set up a conflict like the raid and have the villains only barely be able to scrape a partial escape, to try to tell us that Shigaraki's victory in Deika granted him such a terrifyingly powerful force only to have them lose every battle they got into, to tell us this was a blow that shook Hero Society to its core, only to be so unwilling to kill or retire any heroes the audience cares about that Midnight is literally the only significant loss… It doesn't work. None of it works.

I don't have much to say on which characters did or didn't get a highlight. I think there were a few more people than you listed that got some good scenes--Tokoyami and Uraraka both got material I liked quite a bit; Dabi famously out-trended the U.S. presidential election on Twitter when he (literally) came clean, and Mr. Compress gave us some wonderfully interesting and characteristically opaque material to chew on. On the whole, though, adding more character moments would only have been dragging out the problem: the scale of the PLF's threat and the HPSC's chosen method of dealing with it are simply incompatible with the feeble "neither side truly won or lost" resolution we got.

And that's my rant on that--thanks for the ask!

[junglekookbook]

Papilionem

Yoongi × reader

Genre: crack, yandere, angst

A/n: I write for my one muse and one muse only, I am scared to be posting again but it really helps to have a friend always have your back and support you. Hopefully I don't disappoint people with my writing. @cosmostae

Prologue (for context)

The human species as Y/n would soon come to understand was extremely selfish and pompous. Not a week had passed since she had crashed onto this planet and suddenly it became her job to save them. Like she owed it to them, when she barely managed to survive there was not one huan that worried about her but only criticsed her and called her incompetent and said that she was bad at her job. Duties aside, she did not deserve this. Why was babysitting this ungrateful species her responsibility. Her duty was to protect earth, the planet not it’s inhabitants. Maybe she should let these pitiful creatures just freeze to death. She hated Yoongi, but somehow she had grown to loathe the human species more. She had managed to secure a home in a rundown building far away from the city. Really far away. Something called ‘radioactivity’ or something was present in the area. She found it funny. ‘Just another one of those superstitions’ she thought. Her large crimson wings shimmered in the golden light of the setting sun. The warmth soothed her skin and helped her take away her attention from the pain from all her injuries that she had sustained while duelling with Yoongi. Her species was really not equipped to handle the cold. A cold dry laugh escaped her lips, finding it comical how over the years while the species of other planets focused on evolving traits that could be weaponized, hers had focussed on peace and aesthetics. Look where that got them. Cryonovians had evolved a trait to specifically destroy her planet and win the long cold war while her planet focussed on stupid things like ‘what is the meaning of life?’ “Mass extinction” She blurted out bitterly. Whilst it was true that her loyalty would always be with her home planet she could not help but be filled with disdain at the pompousness of all those philosophers. Sounds of cracking glass shook her out of her thoughts, straightening her back she poked her head from the sill to survey the surroundings. It definitely was not a human, they were very rigid with this superstition. Swinging her legs off the window sill she floated over the floor to the source of the sound. Her hands were already preparing a small ball of energy. 

Yoongi stood leaning against the door frame, a plastic bag in his hands. Y/n was in no shape to fight and he knew that. If she chose to fight now, she could die, only he wouldn’t let her. He had always found them to be like lamb and lion. There was no winning chance for the lamb but he found it cute how it still tried. His amusement had developed into an infatuation that he had denied for a very long until Hoseok, his closest friend from the neighbouring planet had made him realize that he was smitten with the lamb. It was from then that he did everything in his power to get the two of them together on Earth, away from all the dirty politics, of course he did not want the annihilation of her planet, but then that Jimin showed up and suddenly that planet needed to go. The first time he saw her on this filthy planet, looking so vulnerable, he was ready to recite the confession he had spent days preparing. He expected her to be angry or cry but he really did not expect the way his throat constricted and heart raced at the sight of her. His words formed a lump in his throat that made it hard for him to breathe.  That night she had knocked him off his feet, in every sense of the phrase. The days that followed seemed like a fun show to put on. He realized that watching her lose made him happy. This part of himself he was still battling with. How could he enjoy hurting someone he loved? Was it the fact that he hurt her or the fact that he never killed her? He enjoyed the control and the act of mercy he showed her everytime they duelled. It felt like a bonding activity to him.

“What? What are you here for? You are going to kill me aren’t you?” Y/n asked when she saw him leaning against the door. Yoongi took in her bruised body, and ripped wing, the bruises on her knuckles when she had had the grand idea of using physical attacks with him, it had felt like punching a brick of ice. It pained him to see her like that, knowing that he was the reason for it. That is not what he wants their future to be, when they do get married he would not be caught dead hurting her. “Why would I do that?” He asked, furrowing his brow. Y/n’s lower lip jut out in annoyance, eyes glaring daggers at him. “Oh, right I forgot, you prefer to mock me publicly everytime we fight.” She spat. “Mock you? I-” Shaking his head, he chose not to talk about it, “I came here bearing gifts.” He said raising his hands and showing her the plastic bag, the act making her flinch and making a dull pain settle in his chest. She did not feel safe around him, but he would fix that, starting with these juice boxes and packed potato chips. “I want nothing from you.” she said, moving away to create distance between them. “No, don’t say that! I had to freeze the cashier for these!” He protested, walking towards her again. 

“I don’t have a home to go back to. Do you know what that is like?” She blurted out, her eyes welled up and voice broke at the end of the question. Yoongi felt his heart constrict, “I would not go back either, I will stay here with you.” He offered, he did not want to see her in more pain, he had already caused her enough of that. His offer was met with the faint feeling of getting hit by her energy blasts on the arm. She did not have the strength to hurt him, it felt like a slight tap on the shoulder at best. “You have people to go back to. People who love you, care about you, who are waiting for you. I- I am alone on this planet, trapped with no where to go, their stupid atmosphere feels like a glass jar. I have no one to go to and no one who would take care of me! I can’t live with this loneliness forever!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face, she hid her face in her hands, falling to her knees, cutting them against the glass shards. Green blood dripped from her wounds, unlike the humans it was nitrogen her species needed. Most species relied on nitrogen and helium, luckily earth had enough nitrogen to sustain her. “You’re right, I don’t know what that is like.” Yoongi finally admitted, he took slow steps when approaching her, with great caution he wrapped his glacial arms around her “but I am willing to understand. We are away from all the war, away in a world of our own, maybe sometimes we just don’t have to fight,” He cooed at her, running his hand through her hair. He did not receive an answer from her, but as the sun set, Y/n cried herself to sleep inYoongi’s embrace. 

When she woke up in the morning, Yoongi was not around, a cool sensation lingered on her arms but it wasn’t the kind that caused discomfort, it made her understand why humans used ice on wounds. After breaking down last night in front of the man she had sworn to kill, she felt the pain fade and dull in a manner that fomentation with ice could only do. His words played in her head “A world of our own” he had said, no one would know if they fought or not, last night she felt a comfort she had not felt in a long time, but then again, she had not been shown kindness in a long time. It was the bare minimum on Yoongi’s part, she brushed it off as basic courtesy, as for what he said, she would give him an answer once her wounds healed. In the words of the human philosopher, Taylor Swift “Band aids don’t fix bullet holes” and she had just endured air bombings. 

The wings took the longest to heal, it took great patience to see them come together and for the scar to disappear. She took a day for herself, tried those potato chips and almost gagged at the ridiculous amount of sugar in that litchi juice box. Given that she hated sugar so much, she figured that she would use it to address Yoongi. She was growing tired of using that Cryonovian name. She wrote him a letter that day, to be fair, she wrote him at least thirty but sent only one. 

“Dear Yoongi, Yoongi, Suga,

What happened between us, nothing happened betw Maybe it is easier for you to ask for a few moments of peace, you have not lost everything that you had known to be true about your existence or purpose. With my planet no longer existing, I have often questioned why I must still keep the promises of an extinct species, but I understand it now. You froze a man to death for some edibles, something I could never do, these humans, they are so fragile… they need my protection, I must protect them from people like you who simply take and take and take. You took my home and my love, you are taking from these people too. I may not be strong enough to defeat you yet, but I will never stop trying, so long as humans can see that I am good and you are not, I will fight. When next we speak it will be as rivals.”

They did meet as rivals again. High above in the sky, a crimson winged fairy fought a white haired cryokinesis wielding assassin. With new found motivation coursing through her veins, she fought Yoongi. A part of her acted impulsively, filled with denial for finding comfort in his arms. She was relentless in her rain of energy on his figure. She knew that she was doing better than she ever had, she might just win, maybe she would mock him too. Let him live to be defeated again. Make a spectacle out of him like he did everytime. She allowed herself a small glance at the crowd gathered below that cheered for her today. That believed in her after so long. Only… they didn’t. They hated her for doing well against the mysterious bad boy villain with ice powers. They hated her for trying. They hated her no matter what she did. A sudden sense of despair consumed her, making her mind go numb, a window that Yoongi used to gain the upper hand. He had not intended to hit her heart, he aimed for her arm, he watched with dread filled eyes as her unconscious body started falling through the air. In his panic and desperation he reached out his hand to hold her, letting her survive that fall. Losing control of his powers in his state of distress he watched the icicle impale her heart in horror. The screaming of the crowd died down and the sound that echoed in his head over and over was the thud that had accompanied Y/n’s fall. He had killed her.

[sapphos-darlings]

Is it true that lesbian couples are the most likely to get divorced? If yes, then why?

You know - when I first ran into this claim, I was 17. Gay marriage wasn’t a thing back then, yet a girl close to me had just entered a relationship with another girl, and they were both despairing over the way they felt their relationship was doomed from the beginning because of this rumour that lesbian relationships don’t last. They were trying their hardest to find older lesbians in long-term relationships to convince them that they, too, could last. I don’t know if they ever found any.

Now, for the question itself. Before we go into it any deeper, let’s face up with two facts: firstly, and most importantly, depending on your location two women have been able to marry anywhere from never to a couple years at best. The very first country to allow marriage between same-sex partners was the Netherlands in 2001. Here’s a timeline to illustrate:

This is a remarkably minimal timeline to be working analytics from. Especially universally. This is not every country in the world. In fact, it is at best a tiny fraction of all countries of the world. Which leads us to the next point we must observe,

we don’t have this kind of statistics. There is no way to compare homosexual divorce rate with heterosexual divorce rates objectively, because heterosexual marriage has existed pretty much throughout the history of civilization, whereas homosexual marriage started 19 years ago. Similarly, it is impossible to objectively compare divorce and marriage length between gay, lesbian and straight couples simply due to the effect of cultural factors, especially in terms of homophobia and oppression faced by gay and lesbian couples in comparison to straight couples, and the differences in the kinds of struggles and pressures that gay and lesbian couples face in comparison with each other.

So, it might be impossible to answer your question with the data we have, due to the nonexistent history from which to measure from, and because in order to examine divorce in same-sex relationships in general, I feel that we absolutely should take into account the environments and conditions these marriages happened, and only compare them amongst marriages in similar environments and conditions, especially culturally speaking. This just isn’t possible.

Now, for the actual answer?

Shortly put, the studies we have right now say yes. Same-sex marriages between two women have about twice the divorce rate from marriages between two men, and range from about the same divorce rate as heterosexual marriages to having a higher divorce rate than heterosexual marriages depending on the study and country in question.

In a study conducted in Denmark, the divorce rate for lesbian couples over a decade was 30%, against 18% for opposite-sex couples and 15% for gay couples. This is the longest term study I can find.

Let’s look into the why.

First, it’s important to once more remember that same-sex marriage is a novelty. In every country that has so far legalized gay marriage, it has been a major victory and a huge milestone in the struggle for our rights. To celebrate it, a lot of couples got married. A lot of couples. That involves couples who perhaps shouldn’t have gotten married, and so, you have divorces happening at a faster rate than they normally would if there had been nothing to celebrate. Some evidence points to the very first wave of gay marriages trending towards a longer survival rate than the waves following them, but this first wave would similarly include the couples who had already been together for decades, and for whom marrying was just making official what had already been their lives for years and years before - nothing changed for them. For the following couples, there may well have been some hurry to marry, both out of the sheer joy of being able to do so, and for the fear that it would be taken away.

Secondly, there are multiple other factors straining same-sex couples. Oppression is a very harsh reality in our lives, and oppression leads to difficult life situations, and difficult life situations do not favour marriages and commitment. It is extremely difficult to stay in a stable relationship when nothing else in your life is stable - it’s like building a house on an earthquake.

Some of the cited reasons for divorce by homosexual couples, gay and lesbian, include societal attitudes and family pressures. We don’t need a reminder of how difficult it is to be gay in this world, but it is absolutely crucial to remember when speaking of gay divorce. Marriage may provide the legal status of equality to a gay couple, but it is also just about the equivalent of a visible stamp on your forehead. A lifetime of homophobia, internalized and external, clashes with a homosexual couple marrying. It’s like coming out over and over again, or hiding the biggest of secrets from everyone around you. It’s the realisation you still aren���t equal, you still can’t proudly call your wife your wife without the fear of what’ll follow. It’s the shame and the doubt that has always followed you turning to diamonds under the pressure you feel under scrutiny. It’s the knowledge that now you and your relationship are examples set to everyone who is watching, and they are watching - if you don’t succeed, you will be judged for it. What if your family disowns you for it? What if your relatives don’t even attend your wedding? It is so easy to be ashamed and afraid even of the best thing in your life under the prejudiced observation of everyone and everything around you.

Woman couples suffer both these difficulties together with the added unique oppression of misogyny, and a higher overall rate of trauma, mental illness and addiction. Is it any wonder we have a harder time keeping our marriages stable? Look at it from an objective perspective and it’s impossible to miss that many of us live in a cesspool of horrors.

But it’s not all bad. See that the highest divorce percentage over a ten year period was 30%? That means that 70% of all same-sex marriages between two women survived that decade. 70% of those couples are still together. That’s not just half of them, that’s well over a half. Seven out of ten couples stayed together. Furthermore, homosexual couples overall report higher satisfaction, happiness and intimacy in their relationships than heterosexual couples do. This includes female couples! If you look at those reports and match them with the success rate of marriages over the period of a decade... you could just about read between the lines that the majority of our long-term relationships are stable, happy and committed.

The world may be dealing us its worst, but it hasn’t broken us, and it can’t separate us all, or even the majority of us. Our relationships are strong. The fact that we often hurt and that this hurt and pressure may prove to be too much for some doesn’t mean that we’re doomed to an eternity of loneliness. The very fact that most of our marriages do survive means that we are fighters and we are winning, and that our love is well worth the struggle, and that our fears are conquerable.

Oh, and that couple I knew when I was 17, who were scared that they’d never make it? It’s been 12 years, and they’re still together.

So that’s something, isn’t it?

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon Epilogue

Jason is a CEO: Epilogue

When i started this fic (around 9 months ago-- holy hell we could have had a whole human in that time) i didn’t expect it to go in the directions it did or to produce the characters and story it did. While it’s not one of my more action-packed fics it is still very special to me because 1. it’s my first jason centered fic (of which we don’t have much of); 2. it’s my first really long multi-chap (the longest before this was 10 parts); 3. i got to explore so many of my crackships and dynamics of friendship i may not have been able to if we (for example) stuck to canon; 4. most importantly i love this fic because it started out (the very first chapter) as an original story that just was not going anywhere but when i decided to make it a fanfic, suddenly ideas were pouring from my fingers like wine from a split barrel. these characters feel as much mine as they are Rick’s (which is a dangerous path to go down and i’m not actually claiming they’re mine-- gods please don’t sue me). in short i love this fic dearly, i’m so proud of how far all these little babies have come (especially jason) and i hope you feel even a smidge the joy i feel over this, as you go on to read the very soft conclusion to Jason Grace as CEO.

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

There was something almost magical in the gleaming silhouette of the Manhattan skyline. There was something hopeful about it too. 

Jason Grace stepped out of his car, relishing in the sound of the gravel crunching under his feet and the babble of people all around him. His suit—  a deep blue, dark enough to look black, and glittering with tiny silver diamantes that looked like stars— clung to his shoulders and hugged his legs. The theme of the evening was “Starry Night”. He figured coming as the actual night was accurate enough. Drew and Silena had done a beautiful job on his outfit, to no-one’s surprise. He would see them here tonight, along with their husband, and the rest of his friends. And tomorrow, oh tomorrow, he would be off to Rome, with the man that filled his life with overwhelming light.

“Jase,”  Someone called out from the darkness, “Are you hiding from us because you put two different shoes on again and are too embarrassed to say?”

“Shut up Annabeth,” He laughed, “I’m coming.”

He walked towards the group of silhouettes, making out Leo and Annabeth, and Nico and Will, and coming from behind them were the dressmakers and their Charles. Hazel and Frank would be making an appearance later in the night.

“You all look beautiful.” He smiled, hugging them, kissing cheeks and foreheads, relishing in their closeness and their comfort, as he has always done. And they did in fact look beautiful. Annabeth in a dress of blue swirling around her and pooling at her feet— the colours matched the sapphire on her ring finger; Leo in a matching floor-length skirt and a sheer polo-neck that showed off every clean brown line of his skin; Nico and Will, in contrast, were complete opposites, the former in a black suit with silver jewellery, and the latter in an off white with gold accents; Silena, Drew and Charlie all had on suits with various parts of the galaxy embroidered in gold, threading a spectacular tapestry through the emerald green. All in all, his friends were really hot.

“Y’all ready?” Will drawled, tilting his head to the entrance of the hotel a little way away.

“Let’s go celebrate!” He winked in response.

And then they’re walking towards the bright lights, launching into conversations and updates and work and jokes. It was familiar in the way driving home after a long time away was, or catching a waft of the specific smell of your elementary school art room, or seeing someone from your childhood and slipping into a comfortable back-and-forth.

“Jase,” Charlie scooted next to him, breaking away from his conversation with Nico, “How’s the construction for the new section of the outdoor center going? I heard you hit a snag last week with the design?”

“Yea there was a few centimeters off with one of the structures and it caused the whole area to be off balance,” He scrunched his nose, remembering the horror from last week. “I’m just grateful we caught it in time.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since that center went up,” His friend marvelled, eyes wide with the disbelief of time. He knew the feeling well.

“It’s crazy. I came back from my holiday and then everything was just on fast forward.” He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m happy though, with the progress and how far we’ve come.”

“You’ve just burst and grown and brightened,” There’s that soft smile, the one that made all of Jason’s insides turn to mush. The one that told him he was loved in every capacity.

“I know.” He felt the blush creeping up his skin, pale after the long winter months. “I don’t owe it to myself though. All of you guys have—” 

“No way mister,” Annabeth chimed in, “You absolutely owe it to yourself. You got yourself there, we just cheered you on.”

“Yea,” Leo nudged his arm, a gentleness shimmering in his brown eyes. “You were the hero of your own story.”

He muttered thank you’s and tried to embrace the blush but their love and joy and pride still drowned him. Before anyone else could pile on the sincerity they were walking into the lobby and being ushered to the large, elegant ballroom three doors down.

There was a collective gasp from their group, audible even above the low hum of chatter, and the soft jazz drifting through the speakers. The entire room had been made to look like they were standing inside the middle of “Starry Night”. Like they were the townsfolk parked outside their houses witnessing the strange and magical sky above them. Swirls of blue in the draping curtains and circles of yellow in the chandeliers and wisps of the cypress trees growing from the walls as if the very room had been built around a tree.

“This is—” He didn’t even have the words to fully express his awe. If he were an art major he would have died from the beauty of it all. As it stood he could barely keep himself up.

“I know,” A voice said quietly from behind him. “It’s almost divine.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even turn around to see who it was. He simply stepped back and let arms envelope him. He didn’t need to check, because he knew, he would always know. In the heat of their skin, and the hum of their voice, and the love that radiated between them like scorching summer sun.

“Moró mou,” He sighed, tipping his head back to rest against a shoulder. From this angle he could see blazing green eyes and jet-black curls, and impossibly high cheekbones, and a jaw sculpted by Michaelangelo.

“Hello my love,” Percy Jackson smiled. “How are you?”

“Happy.” He muttered, lips brushing against his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Good,” The man nodded, squeezing his waist where his arms still wrapped around. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

“I will not just survive through it,” His eyes crinkled at the corner as pure joy washed through him, “I will live through it, and I will enjoy every minute of it.” He knew the reason for the question, for the concern. But tonight it was not needed. He was nothing but excited and elated for the hours, and then days, weeks, years to come.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

A glass tinkled somewhere to their right, grabbing their attention. And then Zoe and Reyna were stepping together and drawing people towards them as if they were gravity, magnets, the center. They looked it certainly: Zoe in a stark white dress, hugging her figure, shimmering like stardust every time she moved; and Reyna in a watery blue, gauzy and flowing in time with her body, where she goes it will ripple behind her.

“Thank you,” His lawyer started, giving them a dazzling smile. “For being here. All of you.” She looked them each in the eye, her own filled with love and… were those tears? From his no nonsense, boss lady lawyer? Oh he was so going to give her a hug and then tease her endlessly about it. 

“We have a thousand people to thank for all of this,” She gestured to the room, “And a thousand more to thank just for being here, but that will come in the form of surprise take-me-homes at the end of the night.”

“However,” Zoe’s voice, still as strong and quiet as ever, rang out across the room. “There are two people we would like to thank right here, right now.” Her smile lit up the world as her eyes landed on them. “In typical us fashion, it’s a little out of the ordinary but please can both our ex-boyfriend’s come up here.” 

The crowd burst into laughter, him and Percy with them, as they detangled themselves from each other and walked hand in hand to the front of the room.

“As you can see,” Reyna grinned. Jason held in the groan he knew would accompany her next words. “We did a Partner Swap.”

The laughter only loudened, people whistling, and clapping in time with their amusement.

“I will spare you the sordid details,” Zoe’s own giggling softened to a smile, “But two years ago, after Jason and I had broken up, I called him in a panic asking for help. And despite being on a much needed holiday where he happened to meet a certain someone,” She winked at them, eyebrows waggling comically, “He listened to me, then made use of his contacts and connected me with Reyna.”

“And after I charmed the suit off of her, and won her lawsuit,” Reyna stepped in, grinning wildly, “She agreed to pop open a bottle of champagne and celebrate our win.”

“I’m not quite sure about the charming part, angel.” Zoe quirked an eyebrow, “But yes one champagne bottle and the rest was history.”

“In conclusion to this whole ordeal,” His lawyer turned to them, “Jase, Percy, we have a present for you, to thank you for loving us, and for loving us enough to let us go, and furthermore for bringing us together.”

Zoe handed them an envelope but before they bothered to open it they pulled the women in for a hug, thanking and congratulating them. He would not change what they had for the world. He will be grateful forever. He will love them even longer.

Percy ripped open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He leaned over his boyfriend’s shoulder and read with him.

The universe has a funny way of pulling stars together but we know with certainty that the four of us are born from the same constellation. Thank you for everything. We know we can never really repay you but please accept this as a start. 

Tucked into the last fold of the paper were two plane tickets to Japan. The holiday they had discussed once, a Saturday game night that ended with the four of them huddled around the fire in Zoe’s apartment, chattering softly about this and that. Printed in small font at the bottom of the page was a cherry blossom branch and more text that read,

Get married losers, we want joint holidays so we can get the couples packages.

He bubbled with laughter at that, and looked up at his friends, tears pooling in his own eyes.

“Alright everyone!” Reyna clapped her hands, gathering the attention of the humming crowd. “Let’s get this engagement party started.”

And then music filled the room and people dragged each other to the middle of the space and there were cheers as the song came into focus and truly Jason understood the meaning of life that night.

After they had thanked Reyna and Zoe again, and chatted with their other friends Percy pulled him to the dance floor.

“Jase,” His boyfriend cupped the back of his neck, arranging their bodies into a work of art. “We have wonderful friends.”

“The very best,” He agreed, swaying their hips in time with the beat. “We have built an empire with them by our side.”

“Will you be the emperor then?”

“There is no monarchy in this kingdom,” He smiled, blue eyes glittering and bright. “It is just us, and our love, and everything beautiful the world has ever had to offer.” He saw oceans reflecting back at him, wonder soaking in his words, happiness pressing against his lips.

His boyfriend pressed their foreheads together, bodies still moving to music far away. “And if we look further?” Percy breathed, “Past the empire, to the horizon beyond?”

“It is all home,” Jason Grace smiled. “We are home, my love.”

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Okay there are so many people to thank and you best believe i’m going to thank them all because this fic would literally not exist without them.

@nishlicious-01​​ my favourite person, my biggest supporter and the only person who gets to shout at me when im writing fanfic at 1am because i’m not sleeping but also because ‘why am i not reading it ciara????’

@queen-of-demons-and-hell​​ for every comment, every like, every complaint you took when the writing demon was on strike. you have my heart. id be lost and a little lonely without you.

@leyontheway​​ your comments on this fic were golden and i often came back to them just for that extra burst of motivation and serotonin. i found a friend in you and now i can’t imagine my life without you.

@msdrpreist​​ Sky, mi cielo, you are one in a billion and i cannot believe i found you (and you me) across all this space and time. thank you for your unwavering support and your wonderful thoughts.

@larrikin-is-a-himbo​​ when we started this fic i believe you were @/queenbrunnhilde (or something to that effect) but although your username has changed your loveliness and endless support hasn’t. Thank you for sticking along for the ride

@spoopylucy​​​ Lucy... what do i even say to the person who singlehandedly changed my day, week, mood every time i saw a reblog from them? your tags were the start and the end. they made every upload an exciting task. and i knew no matter what happened in the fic or how long it took as soon as i got a notif from you i couldn’t be anything but happy. thank you my Luce, you’re an angel!

@not-hiesenberg​ for being my ‘ciara what the fuck even does this say? do you know how to spell?’ checker when i was too tired (more like too lazy) to do it myself.

@lesbian-peanuts​​ thank you for the love! you were one of the first people interested in this little universe and i can never thank you enough for that​

@legendary-cupcake​​ your spam when reading this was such a happy moment in my life and im ecstatic that you stayed for the ride! thank you​

to all the people on my tag list, who have liked this fic, and especially those who have commented: i see you, i love you, and i thank you with a heart full of happiness. you changed my world.

[taglegend]

Tag Fact #3 -  I’ve come to realize I’ve always been a fan artist more than I thought. so here is a timeline of influences that shaped my childhood to now. from nostalgic times, to sad changes, to great loss, to strange rises to fame and phases, to stepping stones and finally a laughing place. all the things that make up your favorite fan artist Tag.

1. Rayman (bumped into this in the year of 1999) was actually the first fandom (with crossovers) I bumped into when I was 9. although the internet wasn’t available at the time it was still fun to dwell in home amusements. I remember the storylines and the OC’s I made but they’re kind of embarrassing and it’s probably a good thing there was no internet. I’ve done fanart and comic crossovers of Rayman with Calvin and Hobbs and Nights Into Dreams, spinoffs of Sonic the Hedgehog OC’s, Yoshi with Pikachu, and the Pokemon/Digimon craze with OC’s and other Nintendo comic shorts. but the drawings and comics are long gone and disappeared in the garage in a backpack due to suspecting my sister’s dad accidentally throwing them away. years later towards the year 2018 (now 28), we decided to move to North Carolina and it was my chance to find them again. unfortunately the backpack was gone just like I suspected (my main stuff), but for some reason I found my Pokemon/Digimon fanart, a good batch of Super Mario drawings (vaguely remember doing these), my sister’s drawings and some other neighborhood kids’ drawings in a dirty box. I was partially happy I found something at least but it was the backpack I wanted the most. sometimes I regret not looking for the backpack (’cause I was too busy being a kid) but it’s alright, noone needs to see that shit anyway, ha ha. anyways, I recall being a fan of Rayman from 1999 ‘til 2002.

2. Sonic Adventure 2 Battle (bumped into this in the year of 2003) my second fandom I bumped into when I was 12 going on 13. at the time, my sister and I both liked the Sonic The Hedgehog Franchise based on the Battle remake and ended up making our own secret fanart club that consisted of only us two members. she liked Sonic (and that was her boyfriend, ha ha) and I liked Knuckles (and he was my boyfriend, ha ha) and we were crazy in love about Shadow’s backstory. we listened to the game’s soundtracks as we drew fanart and comics after school and man, those were good times. however, as we grew older towards the year of 2005, we ended up having separate rooms and I believe it played a part in disconnecting on the same interest. then one day, I asked her why she wasn’t into Sonic anymore and she replied, “Because I grew up.” I was sad after that and slowly observed that she was influenced by the emo culture and the new friends she’s made. I was the only member of our little club for a little longer...but eventually I moved on too. I still have some surviving fanart we did together but it doesn’t mean shit anymore since she turned out to be an abusive mother from the last I’ve heard of her. 

3. Gorillaz (bumped into this in the year of 2006). as the Sonic years were at its end, I first heard the song “Feel Good Inc” on Music Choice and seeing the first image of them as displayed on this post (except the fan-made background doesn’t count since I can’t find the original artwork). this was my third fandom and later had proper access to the internet to the website I still currently use called DeviantArt. at first I liked 2D but eventually fell for Murdoc and developed a spiritual connection towards the character as obviously seen in my old fanart and rare photos of my devotion shrines on Valentine’s Day and his birthday every year. for the longest time since being a permanent fan from 2006-2017 (11 1/2 years) I had no knowledge that it was a political propaganda band and other realizations I don’t want to talk about. I only followed them because it was a cartoon and not the bullshit behind the musical project. the world I’ve built and support for them for all those 11 1/2 years shattered the fuck out of me and I just wanted to be left alone to find myself again, somehow. activity stopped on all my profiles, the flow of fanart stopped since I now cringe from the fan service and felt I was used for my talent. I didn’t want to be reminded of it all so I took down all my Gorillaz fanart and archived them for old followers’ nostalgia but also in the hopes they’ll be forgotten in my timeline. I ceased to exist in the fandom for huge personal reasons but it’s best to not say why. I know for sure that the fandom wonders what happened but it’s none of their business. THE END.

4. Waluigi (although I knew he’s been around since 2000 during childhood, I took deep interest once I revisited the character again in the year of December 2013). as silly as this sounds, when I revisited him again, the character was so bizarre that I ended up staying up 3 nights and 3 days in a row just looking all over the internet on everything about him and the questionable “hush-hush” absence of a backstory. despite there being no backstory he slowly gained a cult following and in many ways it’s a good thing. however, since the early 2010′s tension has been building up between Nintendo and its fans about him starring in a main game but everyone hasn’t fully gotten it in their heads that it’s not gonna happen. as long as Nintendo is in control of that, the fandom will not win, I’m sorry to say. on the other hand, if it’s going to be this way, then that’s what fanart and comic projects are for. as for me, I am doing my very best to get my comic project “Waluigi Land” going. again, I apologize if it’s taking very long to get Chapter 2 going if you’ve been keeping track but aha moments need to develop before I start permanent drawing (since concepts, character design and storyline needed improvement badly). as of right now I am still a Waluigi fan and I will not quit on him.

5. Turbo from Wreck-It-Ralph (although it debuted in 2012, I watched the movie two years later into the year 2014). for some bizarro reason, I had an unhealthy obsession with this character to the point where I dressed up as him for Halloween 2014. only 2 fanarts of him and the Turbo Twins exist on my profiles, mainly because my mind was more focused on just ‘thinking about him’ or ‘being him’ rather than drawing physical drawings. luckily, this supposed alleged fandom didn’t last long a little after Halloween so I chalk it up as a very short phase. to this day I don’t know what has gotten over me about him. the only thing I can think of now is that I think it’s because the character had yellow eyes and teeth but I don’t know. now that I think of it, that little fucker was ugly as hell and I STILL don’t know what had gotten over me. one day, my brother mentioned what that was about, and I said to him, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

6. Undertale (although it debuted in 2015, I later took interest in it in 2016). It was all about Sans and Papyrus. I couldn’t get enough of the skeleton bros. eventually Toriel and Mettaton EX became my favorites but it took a long time to draw more of all 4 of them because I had other important things to do in my life plus I was still waiting for the next Gorillaz album to revive my imaginative juices (or so I thought). I really want to have this as one of my frequent fandoms but I just don’t have time for it anymore. it’s still in the back of my head to want to draw them but at this point I still have other better interests to be in. and besides, I’m lazy just like Sans.

7. Cuphead (June 28th, 2017 was the official day I called quits on the British-based band Gorillaz due to the bullshit behind it. since that date I was lost, had no inspiration to look forward to and no cartoon guy to make me smile...but lo and behold of the same year, I took an interest in playing the game Cuphead and man...that shit was a frightening exaggerated metaphor for being on that one drug (forgot the name though) and having sex at the same time but man that was the best fun I’ve had in years. I mean, it’s like, enemies are just so happy to murder you and that scared the shit outta me. and the facial exaggeration?....I think I should stop, ha ha. anyways, the Moldenhauers saved my ass from spiraling down, they have no clue. anyways, eventually I became a permanent fan of their work so to ease the hurt and erase my past from the G-fandom I had to re-wire my brain into a different cartoon category that’s a rather more American, so anything Toon related like Roger Rabbit, Felix the Cat or another favorite that’s a western-based cartoon makes me feel better, especially my new man .......King Dice <3 <3<3<3. however, there was something about this new fandom category I still didn’t quite understand until the date March 14th, 2020. I finally understood what it was but I feel I shouldn’t bring it up. anyways, Cuphead and anything western or rubber hose is my last stop in inspiration for the remaining years of my life. many say never say never but I believe I’ve found my laughing place and that’s all that matters.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Beginnings

Request from @jessicanjpa : Want to write Alice and Jasper on the day they finally go to the Cullens?

Thank you so much for the request! I loved getting to imagine this.

Pairings: Jasper/Alice

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I’m not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable.

Word count: 2136

Warnings: None

Jasper grips his companion’s hand tightly and holds two suitcases in the other, reeling from anxiety. For her part, Alice radiates so much excitement that she’s nearly vibrating, yanking on Jasper’s arm in an effort to get him to speed up.

“Jasper, come on,” She begs, not sparing him a glance. “It’s nearly time!”

Jasper groans, pulling her to a stop. She regards him with confusion then, wondering why he’s delaying what is surely to her a momentous occasion.

“Alice, I do not think this is a good idea.”

He notices her spark of frustration, and immediately feels guilty. She’s been looking forward to this for decades, and he’s once again trying to pull her away from it. Though lacking Jasper’s ability, Alice notices his mood. She lays a gentle hand on his cheek, and he leans into the touch. It’s been so wonderful to be with her. For the longest time, the touch of another vampire meant death, but with Alice, it communicates safety and love.

“I know the idea of intentionally crossing into someone else’s territory is frightening. But I’ve gone through every scenario and I’m confident it’s going to be okay.”

Jasper squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them. He’s asked this before, and has been shot down many times. But it can’t hurt to ask again, maybe even beg, one last time. There’s always a chance she’ll agree.

But by her soft smile, she knows what he’s going to ask, and her answer hasn’t changed. Still, he makes the request, hoping against all hopes that she’ll see his side. “Please just stay here, and let me come get you when I know it’s safe.”

“It is safe, Jasper. I’ve seen them almost as long as I’ve seen you.”

When she sees that he plans to protest, she quickly pulls him down to the ground to sit with her. She prefers having conversations like this, when the height difference is minimized enough for her to look him in the eyes. “Only about ten percent of the original visions end in a fight. These new vampires are incredibly docile, compared to the ones you’ve encountered. And of that ten percent, the risk of fighting goes away almost completely if we arrive when the two main protectors of the coven aren’t home. That’s today, Jasper. We’ve picked the right time.”

She can see her logic having a slight calming effect on him, so she continues. While she knows there’s no way he’ll ever be completely comfortable with this choice, he’ll go through with it, if only for her sake. But she can also see, in the distant corner of her mind, all the contingencies Jasper’s working through. Plans that, if the meeting goes badly, have a good chance of getting he and Alice out alive. And while it does sadden her immensely that he feels the need to occupy his thoughts with such things, it makes her appreciate him all the more. When he says he’ll never allow harm to come to her, he means it.

“I’ve seen years into the future, my love. It all turns out okay. The seven of us become a family.”

Her longing for this is so apparent in the way she caresses the word with her voice that there’s no way for him to refuse. He can’t deny her one of the deepest desires of her heart without even giving it a try.

So with an exhale and a tired nod, Jasper stands, agreeing to accompany his love into the territory of these strange, unknown vampires.

Strange vampires, indeed. Because of their diet, the Cullen’s eyes would be gold, and Alice had insisted hers and Jaspers match. She believed the color of their eyes would further help put the Cullen’s at ease and make their first meeting all the more smooth. And while Jasper found animal blood to be woefully unsatisfying, he was ready to try anything that would make them safer during this unprecedented encounter.

Of course, there’s another side to that coin, one Jasper had debated extensively.

On one hand, attempting a diet of animal blood would communicate to the Cullen’s his and Alice’s willingness to truly integrate into their family. It would also show their intent for peace. It really could make the meeting go better. Should the meeting go south, however…well, Jasper would have preferred to be at peak strength. He can feel the animal blood in his system, and knows it depletes some of his vampiric capacity. And while it’s only a fraction, if it comes to a fight, that fraction could mean all the difference.

But Alice had foreseen his choice to cheat and begged him not to, insisting that gold eyes would make for a better meeting. And while Jasper wasn’t sure he entirely agreed, he weighed the options and surmised that, as long as the Cullen’s had been drinking animal blood too, all would be fine. The fact that they had survived purely off animals for decades while he had only begun recently works in his favor.

And, there’s the simple fact that he is confident in his ability to neutralize three untalented vampires before they could even think to move.

That truth acts as his anchor.

Because while Alice has the luxury of being excited and wistful, Jasper does not. He carries the burden of the what-ifs and always planning how to win that next fight. Which is fine, he’ll gladly bear that for the two of him, but it hangs over his head, tainting the exhilaration Alice feels so freely.

The pair crosses a nondescript tree line and the scent of five unknown vampires hits them square in the face. Instinctively, Jasper reaches for his love and holds her close, senses scanning the surrounding area for threats. Once again, Alice smiles softly and strokes his cheek.

“We won’t encounter them for another fifteen miles. This is just the edge of their territory.”

Still on edge, Jasper continues his run with Alice, speeding up just enough to run in front of her. He can feel her teasing annoyance and uses that light emotion to try and calm himself. He cannot show up to the house projecting tension. He needs to be in control of himself enough to keep everyone calm and docile.

When they’re nearly there, Alice brings them to a walk, foreseeing their slower pace having a slight positive impact on their interaction. Jasper holds Alice’s hand firmly, using his leverage to keep her partially hidden behind his frame. She allows it, but beams in excitement because the moment is finally here! She and Jasper are here, on the Cullen’s lawn, walking up to meet them.

On the front porch stand Carlisle, Esme, and Rosalie, just as Alice had seen it.

Jasper samples the emotional climate. For the most part, Alice is right. The emotions coming from Carlisle and Esme are open, hesitant, and curious, but not hostile. Rosalie is another story. She clenches her jaw tightly, feeling fury that nearly makes Jasper flinch. The anger is so strong, he almost misses her fear, but it becomes quite apparent. She’s scared, it makes her feel vulnerable, and that makes her mad. He understands it more than he would like to, and focuses his attention on calming her down.

“Hi,” Alice declares, her voice squeaky with excitement.

Carlisle responds with a smile of his own, though it’s not nearly as brilliant as Alice’s. “Hello, welcome to our home. My name is Carlisle Cullen. This is my wife, Esme, and our daughter, Rosalie. Our two sons, Edward and Emmett, will be home shortly.”

Jasper doesn’t miss the warning in the undertone of Carlisle’s words. Our protectors aren’t here now, but they could be back at any moment. It sets a tension in Jasper’s shoulders that he quickly tries to ease.

“I know,” Alice beams, pulling slightly against Jasper’s grip. It’s obvious that she wants to run into their arms. But for Jasper’s sake, she restrains herself. “I’m Alice, and this is my mate, Jasper. We’ve been so excited to meet you.”

Carlisle’s brow furrows. “Have you heard of us?”

“In a way,” Alice smiles with a far-off look, likely skimming through all her happy visions of our future with the Cullen’s. “I know this might be difficult to believe, but I can see the future. It’s what allowed me to find Jasper and what brought us to you now. The seven of us are going to be a family.”

Carlisle and Esme grin knowingly, and for some reason take Alice’s words without requiring further proof. Interesting, Jasper muses. He believed Alice because he could feel her honesty, but the Cullen’s have no such ability, at least, not that he’s aware of. What would make them accept this outlandish truth so easily?

Carlisle extends a hand towards the front door. “Would you like to come inside? I see you have bags.”

Alice giggles, making a move to accept his invitation. “I didn’t see you turning us away, so I thought it would be silly to make a trip back for our things. Where can we put them?”

Looking a little stunned but feeling only amusement and the beginnings of fondness, Esme reaches for the bags in Jasper’s hand. “I’ll put them in the spare room.”

Alice’s eyes glaze over, and Jasper quickly hands Esme the bags so he can tend to his vulnerable mate. When she’s having a vision, Jasper has to be extra diligent since some of Alice’s own senses are dulled. It’s a duty he takes very seriously. When she exits the vision, Alice smiles mischievously. “Is that the room with the West facing window? I see us settling in there.”

“Uh—no.” Esme looks bewildered. “That’s Edward’s room. The spare room faces east, I believe.”

Alice pushes into the house confidently, making her way towards the stairs as if she’s been here a thousand times before. “Don’t worry. Edward won’t mind.”

Jasper has no choice but to follow closely. He doesn’t like the angry one—Rosalie—being behind him, so he does his best to angle his body to keep an eye on Alice as well as the three new vampires.

To distract from a situation that is quickly becoming awkward, Carlisle brings the focus back to the newcomers rather than the fact that they’re currently moving into an occupied bedroom. “I see that your eyes are like ours. How long have you refrained from consuming human blood?”

Alice is too involved in rearranging furniture, so Jasper takes the question. “Alice has practiced sporadically for about thirty years. I started two years ago, but we’ve both only been consistently successful in the past few months.”

Carlisle nods, leaning against the doorframe. Nothing in his posture communicates a threat or the fear of attack. Jasper cannot comprehend being so relaxed. “Still, it’s admirable. Our lifestyle is not an easy one. We will be happy to help you both continue to grow in your self-control.”

Alice shoots Carlisle a grateful smile over her shoulder as she and Esme debate color schemes. Rosalie stands behind Carlisle in the hallway, grumbling. Like Jasper, she still doesn’t trust the strangers.

Alice’s eyes glaze over once more, and her excitement returns tenfold. “Emmett and Edward will be home soon! They caught our scents at the territory line and are racing home to make sure we’re not attacking the family.”

Not liking the lack of reaction to Alice’s terrifying words, Jasper sends a wave of urgency through the room. This spurs Esme to meet the men and prep them for what’s to come. Jasper hurries to Alice’s side and waits. His years of fighting come back to him, and he mentally maps out strategies that he desperately hopes won’t be necessary. Once Emmett and Edward arrive, Alice and Jasper’s odds of escaping decrease dramatically.

This is the test Jasper has been dreading.

Esme and the two new ones come to a halt in the bedroom.

Emmett’s eyes find Jasper—and his scars—immediately, and he wastes no time in jumping in front of Esme and Rosalie, teetering on the edge of a crouch. He’s ready for a fight. Jasper barely contains his growl and forces himself to send calming waves forward rather than the intimidation and fear he wishes to project. This is supposed to be a peaceful meeting, he reminds himself. Emmett’s emotions demure, but his posture does not relax. Like Jasper, he’s prepared, should the need arise for him to defend his family.

Disregarding Emmett and Jasper’s reactions, Alice catapults herself forward and throws herself into Edward’s arms, gripping him tightly in a hug.

Edward and Jasper let out similar strangled noises. But once Edward sees what’s in the small woman’s head, he breaks into a grin, laughing freely.

“Welcome to the family.”

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