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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

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snake primary + snake secondary (bird model)

Hello! I recently discovered your blog and really love the thought you’ve put into the nuances of the SHC system. I’m super into these kinds of personality analysis systems (I’ve probably been through them all at this point) because I think it’s interesting to know how people tick - I also think self-awareness is important so that you know why you do what you do, essentially. I took the SHC quiz and it told me I was a Snake Primary with a Bird Model, and a Bird Secondary with a Snake Model. I agree that I’m probably a (somewhat petrified) Snake Primary with a strong Bird Model, but I’m not sure which is my true secondary and which is the model. Maybe you can help?

I can sure try :)

Some things about me: I’m an oldest daughter, and I’m almost 100% sure my dad is a Bird Snake and I *idolized* him as a child - I thought he had it all figured out. He was the Zeus to my Athena in my child’s eyes, and I think I got my Bird primary model very early from copying him.

I mean, I know what you mean in a “sole creator” sense, but there is no *way* Athena thought Zeus had it all figured out.

My two younger brothers are a Lion Snake and a Lion Badger, and my mother is possibly a Double Badger, though I’m not as sure about her - maybe she just thinks that she *should* be a Double Badger. I think all that is important to help illustrate that I didn’t really feel *at home* when I was with my family, though I loved them, since I was the only Snake. My parents also had a terrible relationship and are now divorced, so there’s that as well. I think the only time I have ever been truly morally outraged was the revelation that my dad had engaged in infidelity against my mom, and then again when he started dragging his feet over a promise the he had made my youngest brother. We didn’t speak for a long time after that incident, but I was really cut up over dropping him.

Oh yeah. That’s very Snake primary. Morally outraged because your People are getting hurt.

We eventually started to reconcile, and the only reason we did was because he called and said he was driving through my city one day, and even after all of that, I said yes to meeting up because I felt sad that I had dropped him. I think this family dynamic, plus some other childhood stuff, led to me sort of “checking out” and petrifying pretty early.

Just a theory - I think it’s possible that this hit your secondary more than it hit your primary. You seem pretty strong and confident in your Snake primary so far. Even the fact that you can identify it coming from such a non-Snake environment, and don’t feel guilty about it, is big.

I had a lot of trouble making friends in school.

I’m thinking this might be more of a secondary thing.

and generally ended up with like one friend who was the other weird girl, and who I always sort of kept at arm’s length emotionally. I moved schools several times as a kid and after the first best friend (who was the daughter of my mom’s best friend and was like a sister to me until she moved away), I really didn’t try too hard to make new “best” friends.

Hmm. See, this reads like a *default* friend to me, not a friend of choice. The other weird girl. The daughter of your mom’s friend. That’s an easy friend to have… and not one that you necessarily sought out. I’m not surprised that your primary didn’t latch onto her with that Snake intensity.

Even now, though I definitely have concentric circles of loyalty and a significant other who is my “top person”, I’m not sure I have that blind Snake I-would-literally-die-for-you loyalty toward anyone - I’d kill or hide a body for my top circles

That *is* Snake loyalty. Snakes aren’t going to die for someone else, are you kidding? That’s a sucker’s game. They value themselves too much.

I would give up a lot of my own comfort for my significant other. Maybe I’m just afraid to let myself feel that unquestioning loyalty, though I want to feel it, or maybe I’m really a Bird and just want to be a Snake because that would mean I could be un-broken eventually.

Let’s talk about your secondary, I want to hear about how you think you’re broken, because so far you seem fine. Congrats on the SO!

I don’t think I’m an Idealist though - I’m surrounded by them and I know I don’t care about “principles” the way they do. Then again, maybe I’m a Bird whose truth is that moral relativism is the truth lol. Anyway, I think for my primary, I’m probably a petrified Snake with a Bird model unless I’m totally wrong about myself.

I think you’re just a Snake who… is a Snake.

(you’ve got that Birdy influence though, from your dad, and they do like to complicate things.)

As for my secondary, I loved to read (everything - all kinds of fiction, especially sci-fi/fantasy/mystery and, like, Victorian sci-fi/horror adventures, nature books, medical texts, etc. Wikipedia was a revelation when it came out), and I was smart and good at taking tests and knowing the answers in school, so at a certain point I think I just defaulted to being “the smart one” and used that as armor to help keep people from getting too close.

yep yep yep, welcome to the ‘fun Bird model’ club, we have snacks

I do genuinely love to learn, and I’ve always been known among friends and family as the one who either knows the answer or will look it up. I love pop culture trivia and nature facts. I also love and am good at debate, but not really when real feelings are involved - I more love the “battle of wits” aspect, where I can match up against a person to see if my knowledge and ability to adapt my argument on the fly can stump them.

I also would argue the unpopular point, or the point I didn’t agree with, just for sport. Fun Bird secondary model.

I developed terrible anxiety and probably some depression as well in high school.

Okay, now I’m seeing the problem.

and now that I’m older, I suspect that I may have ADHD, though I haven’t been officially assessed. I didn’t discover my executive function issues really until college, when suddenly being smart and being able to figure out the test answers through context clues and what I remembered from lectures and readings + whatever trivia I had gathered about the topic wasn’t enough anymore.

I suspect you’re right about being ADHD. Or at least being neruodivergent.

I am horrible at studying! I would plan out my study sessions and make these nice little cheat sheets (these were allowed on exams) and they didn’t work at all! I did very well in my literature minor though, because all the graded assignments were papers rather than open-answer tests, and I could get my thoughts out better and with more resources at my disposal if I forgot something and needed to go back to the book to check.

Oh ouch. Yeah, I’m not even relating this back to a secondary, because I’m reading this as a working memory thing? Like ugh tests are such a terrible way access knowledge. What is even the *point* of memorization anymore? You should have been able to have a college career that was completely writing papers, like I did.

I was at one point very jealous of my Lion Snake brother, who I felt could do “whatever he wanted” with minimal consequences, while I always felt constrained by being “good” and not rocking the boat too much with my family.

Yep. That’s being an oldest daughter.

I couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to care about being considerate to everyone else in the household (especially my chronically overworked, can’t-say-no Badger mom lol).

It’s because he’s the youngest. Mine’s the same.

This attitude was definitely influenced by my anxiety issues at that time, since I had (and still have) a lot of trouble asking for anything - help, permission, whatever. I’d rather do things and explore on my own, without anyone watching, so I don’t have to ask and don’t have to explain.

Did you low-key raise your younger siblings? Because it sounds like you raised your siblings.

I feel better with a little bit of distance, and definitely wear masks in most situations. I’d say my masks are half conscious and half reactive - I do have some idea of how I’d like to be perceived, but it’s only kind of systematic.

That makes me think Snake or Badger secondary.

I have a few “characters” that I use as touchpoints when I’m going into a new situation, but once I’m there I mostly just act nice and funny and see what happens.

So far I’m going with Badger secondary (be nice and and assume it’ll be fine is very badger) with a fun Bird secondary model, that you can do an Actor Bird thing with. Although liking to “just see what happens” is pretty snake.

The characters are really just costumes I use to give off a certain first impression, although I do really like the costumes and find them fun. I love clothes, makeup, and perfume too, because I enjoy the idea of making multidimensional costumes for different settings. I actually enjoy the mask a lot of the time - I have tattoos that are purposefully in places that I can cover easily, because I enjoy the idea that there’s something under the professional mask that people only know about if I show them. I’m a bit socially awkward I think (I repeat myself and talk a lot), but most people tend to either like me or tolerate me, and I don’t get into a lot of interpersonal conflicts.

Hm. Either Courtier Badger or Snake secondary, fun Bird secondary model. However. Especially after talking about your Actor Bird in such fun, positive, happy language… I am going to call you out for “socially awkward” and “people tolerate me.” Which tells me you don’t have as much faith in your social skill set, and it’s *maybe* a little burnt.

(Also, not to get too armchair psychologist tell-me-about-your-mother, but if your mom has a “chronically overworked, can’t-say-no” Badger secondary… that’s going to affect how you see Badger secondaries.)

Right now I work in a very Badger/Bird workplace, and it’s really a terrible fit, even though I can squeak by enough to fool my superiors into thinking I’m doing a good job.

oh we’ve got some imposter syndrome, that can also be a burnt secondary thing.

It’s all long-term planning and daily maintenance tasks, and I really don’t like it. I change most of my plans partway through, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m really an improvisational secondary at heart, or if I’m truly a Bird that’s just bad at planning for all of the variables.

I’m going to say you’re not a Bird. Making cheat-sheets (which is a very Bird secondary strategy) also did not work, and you feel confined by, not comforted by plans. You’re not a Lion, you enjoy keeping your true self to yourself too much. You could be either a Badger or Snake. And if you really hate daily maintenance tasks… that could be coming from a few places, but it makes me lean Snake.

I love being in situations where I can iterate on a plan, or make a new plan on the fly. I love escape rooms and am pretty good at them; I still get stumped and need hints sometimes, but when I *get* a puzzle, it sort of just clicks for me? I don’t think in a very linear way and am not a good chess player, but I also have never studied chess so perhaps I just am at a knowledge disadvantage in that game.

This is also you using Bird to have fun, and we know you *love* using Bird to have fun.

One of my proudest moments

okay this is definitely going to be helpful

was when I was on a day trip with my significant other, and we needed to find a place to buy food quickly so we wouldn’t miss a specific ferry and then a specific bus - we were on an island, and near the ferry station the restaurants were all too expensive and we were worried they would take too long anyway. He was starting to get frazzled, but I was able to think on my feet, and we just grabbed a calming beer (lol) at a creepy neighborhood bar, then got on the ferry and bought microwave meals at a 7-Eleven by the bus station. It was awesome and I was very proud of myself for staying calm and looking around myself for options.

Well that is VERY Snake secondary.

I generally take a long time making decisions when it’s not a crisis situation, because I have to *weigh all the options*, but I often end up in analysis paralysis. Crunch time is where I really shine as a decision-maker.

Snake again. From what I’m seeing, your Bird is a fantastic toy, but actually kind of makes you miserable when you have to depend on it for the important stuff. (studying, your job, making important decisions)

All of this long post is to say, I’m not sure whether my Bird secondary is a fun model that got repurposed into an executive dysfunction compensation tool and anxiety/depression soother to supplement my Snake secondary

I think you hit the nail straight on the head right there.

or if Bird is my true secondary and Snake is a model that I learned from my dad and brother + characters I admire in media

oh your favorite characters are Snake secondaries are they? That’s a big tell.

and that I use when I fail to plan adequately given my executive dysfunction.

Executive dysfunction is a whole thing, but you don’t have to “”plan adequately”” for everything.

I find both fun and both useful, but I’m not sure which is innate and which is the model!

My money is on snake secondary, Bird secondary model.

#submission #sortinghatchats #wisteria sorts #sortme #double snake #snake primary #snake secondary #bird secondary model #family dynamics

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farty-city · 3 years

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inside bo burnham review no one asked for

i enjoy other peoples commentary and i was writing down my first thoughts anyway so here it is

inside

first song/intro song

i like the phone screen on him, very reflective of how we have had phone screens on us

“roberts been a little depressed” osnskjdnfs

they were right “daddys made you some content so open wide” hjbfafn

intro

oh my god he looks awful

but like in a cute way

maybe

healing the world with comedy (second song)

the canned and queued laugher no exactly… is it a symbol or is it just funny.. who's to say.

it think its a good first song, establishing he knows what he is doing is kind of useless

“the indescribable power of your comedy”

he looks like marc maron rn

i like the synthed voice and synthesizer

the jesus allusion … yeah

“i'm a special kind of white guy”

this feels like he knows how he is perceived by fans.. Make happy was too much

his fucking dancing fksjdnfksj

i think he did a good job looking manic

the lasers lmao

Side 1

Bo made a huge gamble releasing this like,,, what if you just stumbled upon it and this was ur first introduction to him..

I bet its like when i comment dumb things on instagram comments and get that rush of hehehehe

NO NOT BO DEVELOPING BILLIE EILLISH VOWELS

Also this is exactly what he wanted like,, he just wanted to make his things and not deal with the crowds so..

To think i was like finding scraps of him performing at largo and stuff and now,, so much content

life imitates art

the way he's literally what he wrote hgbkdf

there is no authenticity with cameras

suicide ?

facetime with my mom tonight

the blue light.. Yeah

o hblue like sad

i don't know how i feel about the electric music but i guess its no different than whatever else i listen to

this is sad wow

still catchy etc

side 2

i wonder if here will be any fart jokes

that is how the world works (songs)

the huge mess and then him in a sweater

this is reminiscent of that walmart muppets

he became tim minchin with a sock puppet

the “yes… yes sir” stoppp

jkgdsnfijwkensfosnf

qbejfnjne

nerjgnoejns

bo making a political statement and a metaphor for activism and then making it weirdly kinky

brand consultant (bit)

man bun

i have to believe he filmed it with the beard because quarantine vibes and also bc he was tired of being seen as a child

white womans instagram (song)

i did not like that intro

BO AND GLASSES THANK GOD

the daisies wow just wow

underwear

“white womans instagram” or “bo burnham becomes a girlboss”

i like that he didn't lose his cadence like the way the rhymes are you can still tell its him

i don't get the mom part sorry

is it like how people are very superficial but also very personal on their instagrams

this part was legit sad

side 3

i wonder how he felt with cameras constantly on him

Although this is the point hes trying to make

lol seinfeld moment (bit)

unpaid intern (bit and song)

“barely people somehow legal” was so smooth woW

omg he was scatting

he was a man who would scat

oh my god what great news

the react clip omg

i cant believe he did that oh my god

observation/critisism and response to the “can anyone shut the fuck up”

and as i realized what he was doing he was like “i have this need for everything i make to have a deeper meaning” oh my god

now the question is how long will this go on?

jeffrey bezos (song)

idk its catchy

and then theres him like sleeping and talking which kind of is part of the jeff bezos song

bug eyes salamanders hehe

sexting (song)

i do believe this is just a silly song

the earrings tho omg

sounds like post malone hbkjdsnfskj

idk its still about like intimacy in quarantine and that stuff..

the knife (bit)

i know hes copying like other youtubers but like,,, what

stuck in a room (song)

the intro is very funny and relatable

classic bo i love it

i will say this special has been more reflective but i suppose it has to be

“look whos inside again”

i like the end too, this is all a fabrication

this is the clip where hes staring at the projection of himself from his old youtube videos which is sort of more like an ending to the “stuck in my room” song

sorry (song)

i love the 80’s style music and its like zumba

oh this is like an apology song

“father please forgive me for i did not realise what i did, or that id live to regret it” what a catchy line

i would say this is another more “classic” bo song where its self aware and funny

“my closet it chalk full of stuff that is vaguely shitty”

camera falling

this deserves its own bullet because its silly

i'm turning 30 (bit and song)

i remember him talking about this on a podcast and like,, damn i didn't know this also happened LOL

i really like how he did the lighting

“stupid fucking ugly boring children”

suicide talk (1)

this is interesting i like the use of the projection

this is something that could never have happened onstage

just like with the it being projected on him

i guess it could but it would have to be done differently and probably hed have to make it funnier to make it more engaging

intermission

i just checked this is about the halfway point.. Mh

i don't wanna know (song)

“i thought it’d be over by now”

i wish this was longer but i kind of like how its just a little snippet and then the cut

video game (bit)

“i guess i’ll cry again”

“is the dude big or is the room small” lol

hm depression

feelin like shit (song)

ohh the lighting is fun again

this is the tone shift i suppose

the feels like supalonely and the new kind of music

atl

panic attack

everything all of the time (song)

feels like brandon rogers

i enjoy this

this feels like “welcome to youtube” grew up

“a little bit of everything all of the time”

“apathys a tragedy and boredoms a crime”

ok olivia rodrigo

finishing the special (bit)

these feel like diary entries but as standup

interesting choice

jeffery bezos (2)

Why the seaweed suit

Where did he get that

the digital space (bit)

suit up, gather what is needed, and return to the surface

damn

pirate map anfdkjfnskjd

this was so stupid (affectonate)

that funny feeling (song)

the campfire vibes

kenny loggins

i don't get it..

is it about childhood, is it about the present?

i think its talking about the end of content?

“the end of culture”, to quote make happy

change and not liking it

“we were overdue, but it will be over soon”

if the second half of the special is like a panic attack this song is like a momentary pause before it gets worse

“so ive been working on this special”/breakdown

this was .. uncomfortable and genuine which i'm sure is why he kept it

all eyes on me (song/rant)

another sad thing to watch.. damn

me trying to tell if the audio was from make happy

i think he was trying to make it as if the audio was from make happy

this feels.. familiar

and obviously that is the point

“come on in the waters fine”

the use of autotune during the talking part... yeah

sad that he was gonna make another special… and it would have been totally different than this

i’ve decided i like the homage to make happy

It feels like hes made peace with it

the montage of him waking up and the “i think i'm done”

and then of course the ending where he's watching it over to remind us that its all fabricated

possible ending song/ “i promise to never go outside again”

ngl he looks good in the shirt with the haircut hehe

which i feel like is what he wants up to notice

and then like not think after we saw all his breakdowns

“i want to hear you tell a joke when no ones laughing in the background”

i really like the medley

Final thoughts

I want a blooper reel, but this doesn't seem like the kind of special

I also wonder if the songs will be on like apple music, but again, doesn't seem like the kind of special

I'm happy for him, he got to be honest and open and show us the sort of panicky stuff

this self aware comedy is exactly the stuff that i think will be making a comeback in the next decade. John better be pulling up with more deconstructed comedy.

I hope this has given him peace

#i am so sorry for clogging the feed #bo burnham #inside #inside bo burnham #make happy #what.#words words words #bo fo sho #oh bo

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gloves94 · 4 years

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Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 1

Warnings: None Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Zuko/OC Summary: "You have everything you've ever wanted." "No." He said softly. "Not everything..." His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. "I guess not." She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

"Uncle!" The young prince roared exasperated.

For once his uncle stood on the deck of the ship being quiet and distant. His eyes gazed out into the vast blueness that expanded so far you couldn't tell where the ocean ended and where the sky began. He wore a solemn expression on his face, both of his hands tucked inside of his sleeves. His eyes clouded with a rare sadness.

"I'm so close to capturing the Avatar! I'm going to lose his trail and we are losing precious time! I haveto regain my honor!" Prince Zuko barked. The dishonored banished Prince of the Fire Nation barked.

Iroh also known as the Dragon of the West, the retired general who had been disgraced at walls of Ba Sing Se remained pensive and let out a deep breath he had been holding.

"Why do we even have to go to the colonies?!" The frustrated prince threw his hands over his head.

"I already told you my dear nephew. I've received somber news. The sun has set on a dear friend Sencha's life. And so we must attend the service and show our respects to his spirit and his family."

"This is pointless!" Prince Zuko breathed out a cloud of fire, his exasperation boiling in the pits of his stomach. How he sometimes wished he could just shove his uncle into a sailboat and send him to out so that he could move on with his life and actually have a shot at regaining his honor. Why couldn't his uncle just go by himself?

Zuko was too blinded to see the pain in his uncle's amber eyes.

"Patience," Iroh sighed wisely and stroked his gray beard. "If you allow it, the howling wind shall carry you to your destiny. Who knows? You might encounter something interesting in the colonies."

The prince remained silent.

"Perhaps even the Avatar?" Iroh baited glancing at his nephew from the corner of his eyes.

Zuko gripped the railing tightly, his body tense. His uncle turned to look at him and flashed him a weak smile before squeezing his nephew's shoulder.

xxx

The prince's military vessel docked at the port of Yu Doa.

The city of Yu Dow was one of the first Fire Nation Colonies. It was known for it's unique architecture and surprising co-existence of Fire and Earth bending cultures as near equals. Because of this Yu Dao was the Fire Nation's most powerful asset and wealthiest colony. It was also famously known for having the finest weapon craftsmen in the world.

"This place is... odd," Zuko observed as they made away across the city.

No royal had set foot in the colonies since the war began one hundred years ago and it was safe to say that people from the mainland thought less of those from the colonies. Sneering at them, calling them colonials, and laughing at stereotypes.

The city was quiet, its citizens wore funerary colors and expressions of mourning. All windows were closed and shops were closing early.

"Of course, they are mourning their governor."

The Prince also noted how the people in the streets did not shy away from them like others would've back in the mainland. They neither bowed nor cowered with disrespect. The prince and his uncle entered the gates of the golden palace and were received by an escort who lead them inside the building. The architecture was a mixture of emerald green and square shapes typical of Earth Kingdom architecture with contrasting bold golden pikes, maroon carvings, and large figures and carvings of crimson and golden dragons on the walls which were typical of Fire Nation architecture and culture.

"General Sencha was appointed as the Vice Royal Governor of Yu Dao sometime after your grandfather Azulon rose to the throne. He was a brilliant general, brave, courageous, a good friend and also a worthy Pai Sho adversary," Iroh said with a smile as they were lead through a massive pair of intricately carved golden doors.

"His people, they mourn him. It's almost as if they care-" Zuko was interrupted. "They do," Iroh nodded. "Fire Lords don't often concern themselves with the Fire Colonies once they are tamed. Sencha took it upon himself to provide a life of equal opportunities to both Fire and Earth Kingdom citizens. Together they worked to build and grow the city making it the most powerful asset of the Fire Nation abroad. Because of that Yu Dao paved the way for its own culture and traditions to blossom. That's why this place seems so different to you."

For a moment Zuko thought about his grandfather, Azulon. Besides other aristocrats and the military it had been just another day when he passed. His people hadn't mourned him, he hadn't been missed by many. He certainly didn't miss him. The citizens of the Fire Nation didn't seem to care much for him, then again, he had been a cruel man. It was a drastic contrast to the ambiance in Yu Dao and the respect its people had for their passed leader.

It was then that they entered the heart of the governing room where the service was being held. It was dark and the room was barely illuminated by numerous candles which were burning at different heights. At the center hoisted above a bed of white arranged wild flowers and lilies lay a fine wooden coffin. There were few government officials and family in the private service. The disgraced prince and the retired general approached the front to pay their respects. Iroh knelt before the bed and meditated for a moment on his dear friend's memory. Zuko nodded his head in respect and he patiently waited for his uncle to stand. His eyes scanned the crowd as he attempted to distract himself, not wanting to linger his gaze on the coffin before him. It was then that a spot of red in the darkness captured his attention.

His eyes froze on a person with a hair color he had never seen before. He had never seen an individual with hair the color of fire. Auburn, red, maroon, he couldn't place his finger on the shade. The dim light made it even harder. She appeared to be around his age. Her blazing hair was wavy and reached down past midback, half of it up in the matter that was considered fashionable in the Fire Nation. Her expression was one of pure desolation as a woman whom he assumed to be her mother held her close while holding her hand.

"Prince Zuko!" Iroh whispered harshly elbowing him snapping him out of his train of thought. As he did the girl looked up and their eyes met. His lingered on her face for a second.

Her mother turned as did the man Zuko assumed to be her father. He turned his head sharply ready to walk away, but instead Iroh turned the opposite way and began walking in the way of of the Vice Royal family.

Xxx

"I-I think I need some air," gasped the girl as she took in a deep breath suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Her soul felt numb with the absence of her dear grandfather. She felt dizzy and partly nauseous. She had shed her tears and her eyes were dry from crying so much, over the past couple of days. Her nostrils felt irritated from blowing so many tissues. Her mom gave her hand a gentle squeeze and a sad smile before letting her go. She noted the two strangers that were approaching to pay their condolences.

Distraught she didn't bother in engaging with them or even checking out their improper attire. From the looks of it they were probably military from the Fire Nation mainland. She stepped out quickly suddenly feeling like she couldn't breath due to the stench of flowers, incense and burning candles. She in took a large gulp of fresh air when she reached the small garden outside the governing room. She sat on a stone bench that was placed before a small koi pond fountain and under a blossoming plum tree. Just a few days ago she had been sitting in this same bench with her grandfather. She had been holding onto his arm tightly, he had given her one of the plum blossom flowers, tucked it into her hair and was telling her stories about her late grandmother.

And now- he was gone.

She felt fat tears begin to swell in her eyes as her lungs felt heavy with woe. She had done enough crying. Death was part of life.

"Loss is part of life,"her grandfather had said to her sagely. "But nothing worth keeping is every truly lost."

Her tears certainly wouldn't bring him back. She sucked in a deep breath and sat up straight as an arrow, just as she had been taught her entire young life. Holding her head up with pride.

She didn't know how long she had been out here. Holding her breath, trying to hold it all together.

"The flower that blooms in adversity is the most beautiful and rare of all," a wise voice interrupted. Her ears had to be playing tricks on her.

It was her grandfather.

"W-What?" She turned bewildered.

Automatically a cascade of tears streamed down her unblinking amber eyes.

It wasn't.

She almost felt as if she had heard her grandfather. She wished it had been him. She sternly believed that those had been his words through a different voice. One that was unfamiliar to her. The man standing beside her was older. His hair was aged and gray and he was large. He seemed like a pleasant person carrying an air of peace and gentleness around him. The kind that his grandfather might've kept around for counsel or as a part of the governing cabinet. He was the one that had walked in late, with the boy with the scar on his face that had been glaring at her during the service.

"Blooming season can be powerful, glorious and intoxicating, but tragically short-lived," the man said wisely. "It is a visual reminder that our lives, too, are fleeting."

Who was this man that spoke in riddles with his wise tongue? Where had he come from?

"They also signify most important above all love." He reached down and with care picked up a lost flower. Lifting it up he offered it to her with kindness. Ceasing her crying the girl took the flower from the wise man.

"Thank you," she said quietly keeping her head lowered in respect.

"You must be Tsai, Sencha's granddaughter," it wasn't a question. He knew who she was. She nodded. The man lowered his head bowing before her. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss. Your grandfather was a good man, he was also one of my closest friends. Strange that he would pass on such a pleasant day," he commented raising up to view the clear sky above.

"My name is Iroh," he introduced himself. "I have come here with my nephew to pay my respects."

Tsai rose to her feet and bowed her head in equal respect. Of course she had heard of the famous General Iroh, the Dragon of the West. Afterall he had been first in line for the throne of Fire Lord just a couple of years ago.

"General," she acknowledged respectfully.

"There you are!" A woman of similar features to the girl approached the two. She wore a matching dark tunic and her hair was light brown and her eyes were a minty green.

"How embarrassing," she breathed. "I certainly hope Tsai wasn't bothering you with any nonsense General," her mother said as she wrapped her arms around her daughter's shoulders holding her close.

Being of Earth Kingdom decent Sanyu, her mother, had always been hyper conscious of her and her children's behavior. She couldn't afford for them to be shunned because of their Earth Kingdom heritage.

"Not at all," He smiled kindly. "And just Iroh, please."

"Has it-" Tsai turned asking her mother. She simply nodded. The body had been ignited in flames as it was customary in Fire Nation funerary tradition. Her expression twisted into a tormented one. "I really do apologize that you've come to visit us on such a somber occasion," her father stepped forward. It was the new Vice Royal Governor of Yu Dao. He had introduced himself as Azah. "It would truly be an honor if you could join us for lunch. It is not often that we receive such as esteemed guests. Specially royalty from the mainland."

"Uncle, send for the ship to undock. We don't have any more time to waste," a voice rudely spat into the conversation.

It was that rude boy who had been glaring at Tsai during the service. She eyed him warily as she approached her and her family in the plum-blossom garden. The governor's eyes narrowed at the royal's rude behaviors. Sanju seemed oblivious to this.

"Please excuse my nephew. We'd love to join you," Iroh nodded. "Tsai, have you introduced yourself to Prince Zuko?" Her mother spoke tensely slightly grabbing her by the shoulders and shoving her towards the prince.

"Uncle-" The other protested.

"Zuko you're always talking about honor. We are going to stay and join our host the Vice Royal Governor and his lovely family for some tea and dinner." Iroh grinned cheekily as he grabbed his nephew's arms tightly and slightly shoved him forward towards the other teen.

Both were awkwardly pushed to face each other as their families observed the impromptu match-making meeting all with knowing eyes and discrete growing grins. Tsai's older brother Mecha snickered from the back, she wanted to turn and glare at him but was instead once again nudged forward by her mother who was glaring daggers at her and poking an invisible knife at her back.

Her grandfather had just died, could they cut the match-making and courtship some slack?

The prince stood half a head taller than her. Maybe he appeared to be taller because of the way he wore his dark hair, in a tall ponytail, most of his head was cleanly shaved off and Tsai realized that he hadn't been glaring at her. That's just the way his face was, it was stuck in a mean scowling mug with suspiciously narrowed eyes. However the most striking feature was half of his face, which was scarred by fire in an ugly branding on his skin. Of course she had heard stories and rumors about the banished prince. Most girls her age would giggle and say he was extremely handsome, other rumors said that he got his scar in a training accident. However, it seemed that his temper and infamous bad character were no myth.

"Tsai of Yu Dao," She bowed down her head lightly bangs slightly falling forward as she did. "It is an honor your highness."

xxxx

AN: Woooooooooo, this Avatar Netflix revival is doing things to me. I think I LOVE Zuko more than I did when I was watching the series as a child. I'm super excited to see where this story goes. I'm almost done writing it at chapter 30 and I've grown super attached to these two characters.

Let me know what you guys think and send me some love!

Best,

xxx

First: [Here] Next: https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621143206633046017/sunburn-prince-zuko-2

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

#avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #prince zuko #zukoxreader #Zuko x oc #Zuko x you #zuko #fire nation #Zuko fanfic #fan fiction #Zuko fic #avatar fanfic #atla fanfic #atla fanart #fancast

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laryna6 · 3 years

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One of those ‘A Christmas Carol’-based fics with Saotome Eiji.

Kyousuke’s dad appearing warning of the demons of the Sanzu river and the measuring of karma that awaits the dead, and Saotome going ‘I must have fallen asleep/that’s a foreign Buddhist thing’ because of the... heavy pushing of a... propagandized version of Shinto as part of Japanese nationalism building up to WWII.

Instead of Christmas it’s Obon (a festival of Buddist/Confucian origin) ofc.

To fit with ‘the idea that people have to earn the right to live is effed up’ from the original, perhaps as a child he was sent to an orphanage bc his family couldn’t feed him? The additional damage of not knowing who your ancestors were in a culture practicing ancestor worship.

Other students of psychic research inviting him to hang out at the university but he wanted to get an officer position in the army, so needing to avoid undesirable elements.

Saotome’s present day obon, Kyousuke who was raised in China being taught about Shinto because as a half-Chinese person on top of an esper in an era of nationalism... they worry about the kid and he might be safer if he do all the ‘I am a loyal subject of the emperor’ signaling. Two of the espers in the unit canonically come from traditional priesthood families and have OPINIONS about what these motherfucking nationalists are doing to corrupt and twist everyone’s spirituality and traditions and their sense of connection to their families and their people and the land. Making shinto priests government officials?!

Saotome going they’re not proper LoyalTM to the army and Japan

Spirit #2 going ‘was the army ever loyal to them?’

Fujiko and her father discussing how their family is nobility and the need for the nobiiity to give up power and instead bring about democracy if Japan was going to escape being conquered and exploited by imperialists like the countries around them.

Fujiko going ‘but the warrior classes all got positions in the military, and now we’re a military dictatorship and Japan has just become one more imperialist power, it’s disgusting and her father going absolutely, and discussion of duty to their ancestors and their country foreshadowing Fujiko making a choice that according to traditional morality and the noble code of conduct was ABSOLUTELY UNACCEPTABLY HORRIBLY WRONG to the point of disgracing her entire family line because what kind of people could have produced a traitor like that... but because of it in the modern day Japan is the second least awful country in how it treats espers.

Then spirit #3, and Saotome going ‘I’ve seen the precogs, espers going to war with normals, Kyousuke betraying the country/me to serve a queen’

And then it’s the younger queen and two other girls going ‘Minamoto we want to go to a festival with you’ while a harried man basically shoos them out the door with a broom and goes ‘go! Your families want to see you! Here are your boxed lunches and snacks for the trip’ and the girls are espers who use their powers to get to their normal families. the queen and her big sister get in a wrestling match over the cookies and only belatedly realize their mom’s eaten them all while commentating while they dress for the festival. another girl and her normal father engage in some police brutality towards festival pickpockets as bonding. the third girl, at least, is traditional and proper even if she’s performing a ceremony that comes from non-Japanese origins (and yet... it’s still a tradition that ties them to their ancestors and the gods and who they are, and Shinto says that tradition is sacred, it doesn’t say that traditions that first came from outside aren’t sacred)

The man is following his mother around as she chatters with everyone and gets up to shenanigans at the festival. ‘Father couldn’t make it again’ mentioning a grandmother who used to stay with him at these. Looking up at the sparks rise above the fire to send the dead home, lonely even though he’s surrounded by people in his hometown... and then he gets tackled by the three girls demanding he take photos with them while they’re all in kimonos

And then it switches to someone announcing That Bastard is finally dead. Far from the land he was born, with no one in the country he served who cares to claim his body ‘so we should send someone to pretend to be a relative’ and someone declaring that this is now a formal meeting because while obviously they all want to desecrate his grave, they are going to do it in an organized fashion that reflects the gravity of his crimes and pays respects to his innocent victims and continuing victims of that bastard’s legacy of murder and hatred. Eggs and toilet paper are not up for discussion is said with a pointed look at another man, who whines ‘big bro!’

This is the most diverse group of people Saotome has ever seen, people from all over the world united in their hatred of someone who gets referred to with several different languages’ curse words.

And then someone walks in and goes ‘here you are, okay, what are you up to? I’ve been raising kids for half a century, I know that when you’re all quiet and busy somewhere you’re up to no good’ and it’s Kyousuke. The guy who went ‘big bro’ gets his ear twisted, and whines ‘dad!’

It’s revealed that ‘that bastard’ is someone who hurt Kyousuke, who they’re protective of like the unit is (he still looks so young...) but when he gets it out of them he’s no! and there is a whine of ‘dad! He shot you!’ ‘I know’ *bullet scar revealed* ‘I’m the one he shot, so I get to decide what to do with him’

Kyousuke lifting away a sheet to reveal a body old and twisted and crippled. And Saotome’s. Kyousuke is blank an solemn... and sad.

Going through the Shinsosai funeral rites, all foreign Buddhist influences removed as he would have wanted, and maybe there’s a reason the people of Japan for centuries were happy to have Buddhists to help them usher their families into the next world, because he can see the weight of the kegare on him, how Kyousuke mourns him, is the only one who mourns him. Eventually a woman who treats Kyousuke as both an embarrassing younger brother and as a respected father comes to help, to cheer him up, even though she despises Saotome too, for hurting him.

A picture of the unit, in Kyousuke’s family shrine. ‘Now everyone in this photograph but Fujiko is dead... He took my family from me, but he, too, was family.’

Then he grabbed the woman, teleported, and dragged her down with him into the ocean for purification.

...then Kyousuke goes to bully the man from before, who is arguing with the three girls about how yes, they are sleepy, Kaoru nearly flew them into the ground getting home, while making them all tea before he shoves them into their bedroom. When he turns around Kyousuke has stolen the cup that was supposed to be for him, and the man at first automatically raises his hackles, but then looks sympathetic.

Kyousuke looks away, annoyed and pouting, at sympathy from this person.

‘...If I try to comfort you you’re going to shove my head in the toilet again,’ the man says, getting himself another cup of tea.

‘Absolutely’ Kyousuke agrees.

Silence, and eventually Kyousuke says, ‘at first I thought you were his reincarnation, even though he would have been offended at the idea of him reincarnating. Then I found he was with the Comericans, had been since the war, and I thought, it would have been better if he was you. Not for the Queen. But for him. If I hadn’t failed to avenge my comrades back then, he could have moved on to a better life or the otherworld. Not been forced to live on a failure and a pawn in a foreign land, unable to return home. He was a proud man.’ Looking down at his tea, ‘when I met him again, he asked me to kill him.’

‘..in the precog, I know there’s a nuke on the way when I shoot Kaoru,’ the man says, and now Saotome knows where he’s seen him. ‘even though I want to kill her so she can’t leave again and I want it enough to kill her before she stops that nuke from destroying Tokyo, I still know that I have to die for this. I’m just getting the order wrong. I should die before I do that. Having to live with what I do in that precog would be a fate worse than death.’

‘That was why I erased his memories that day. He... there was no point in him continuing to suffer. None of us would have wanted that for him. I thought... didn’t he know our feelings? That we were loyal to him, that we didn’t mind dying for him? And then I saw that he truly didn’t recognize our feelings. Because he didn’t know what it looked like, to recognize when people truly cared for him. But he cared for us, and so when he thought that espers would turn against normals, that it was impossible for us to ever care for him... Those damn precogs. They broke his heart before he put a bullet through mine.’

‘Maybe... next obon?’

a shake of the head. ‘he thought it was too foreign. It’s fine, our comrades will beat sense into him in the afterlife.’ Kyousuke drank the rest of his tea.

‘..Some of the parts of the traditional ceremony... PANDRA loves you, but I think that would have made it hard to force them to cooperate,’ the man said. “I don’t want to hear words honoring him either, but you like to do things I don’t want.’

‘What, are you going to give me condolences for his loss?”

‘I can honestly say that I am very sorry he’s dead, because it means I will never get to strangle him,’ the man vigorously throttled the air, going from kind and patient to a man more than capable of shooting a young woman in love with him, and back, ‘from turning you from such a sweet, good little kid into the godawful brat I have had to deal with.’

Kyousuke snorted.

“Do you want another cup of tea, or a cup of milk?”

“Milk.” Kyousuke said, and when the man was on his way to open a white door, he began, “Utsumi-san said that he graduated first in his class, but he had no family and no background. The esper unit was his proposal, so when he told us that we could serve our country and be accepted, he wagered his own future on the chance that ours could be happy. Utsumi said later that he never trusted Saotome-Taicho, because he knew he didn’t truly care for us. I asked once why he didn’t warn us, if he knew that, but... Utsumi knew his heart, so he knew that Saotome-taicho also was different, was desperately wishing to prove he was valuable enough to accept. He knew what bait to dangle before us because it was the exact same lure that led him to the army. We all wanted him to have that happy future, along with us.’

#zettai karen children #hyoubu kyousuke #saotome eiji #minamoto kouichi #all of the bunnies #I want to turn this into fic but aargh so much work

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weirdo-with-a-nametag · 3 years

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Brain is tv static with random frames interspersed

Think I'm like. Really stressed and jumping between topics to try and find something that helps / feels good

Topics:

Anyone know a good health tracking app for adhd people? I want one that like pops up when you open your phone, maybe? But is unobtrusive. Like maybe you just rate your mood or whatever when you open your phone, and it closes, and you go about your business. I just hate every app and paper method I've tried but really want to track some stuff

Pigeon. ? Pigeon as pet?

Service animals re: cats, pigeons, my cat specifically, and then also ESAs and also what to use as treats while training my cat (he's pretty happy to learn behaviors with praise and pets as reinforcement, but treats would make everything move much faster, but I haven't found something I want to give him so we've just been y'know. Chillin)

Service animals re: what tasks can my pet potentially do that would help me? I don't really know a lot about service animals and there is a Huge range. If anyone has suggestions, or places to read about it, I'd appreciate it! Mostly thinking they may help with anxiety, sensory, and mobility/fatigue related stuff. Not much of a need for medical alerts.

Bioactive enclosures for my snakes, need to research their biomes and make progress on designs and equipment specifications

Also. Hit a seriously hard patch and haven't been handling them much at all this month so that's not great

Casting stuff. Saw jewelry today made of metal casts of claws, skulls, etc, and they were really well done and made me want to do that

Some taxidermy / vulture culture stuff I won't get into right now

Puzzles????

How to organize my room

Need a shower

Need to organize bathroom

So Much Schoolwork

Uhhhhh trying, but not making much headway, to figure out how I want to do my music collection. Also really need to clean my records..

Make?

Food??? Ew.

Dental hygiene ://

Plampts. So many. Houseplants need maintenance, many need repotting. Keep taking in people's problem plants and like, they're doing better, largely, after being trimmed and watered and whatnot, but need repotting. Also need to trim some aquarium plants.

Also need to put water in tanks. And spray nepenthes.

Laundry.

Gotta pick up trash in my room. There's so much. Everywhere. Why.

Schoolwork. I'm so behind. So, so stuck. Kind of feel like I'm dying.

Going on a picnic tomorrow. Have to figure out what still needs doing for that, probably need to go to the store.

Leo needs water. I'm so....ugh, I'm trying so hard, but it feels impossible. I do my best to take good care of my pets, and I think they live pretty good lives most of the time, but sometimes I get like This and completely drop off the face of the earth and then like, wake up or whatever and two weeks have passed by and I have not cleaned a water bowl! That's a serious problem!!!! I do not know how to combat that, really, besides more reminders. Having someone around who is willing to like, help, when things are especially hard, would be great, but I don't live with my partner right now and do not feel like I can ask anyone here for that. But I can't put my animals at risk. I check on them every day, and if their bowls are dirty I do take them out and clean them, but sometimes (like now) i cannot get myself to do it without a pressure like a dirty bowl, or a feeding day. And like, it's really important that they have clean water. I'm talking to myself here but like, if anyone has advice. Please. With the tank redesigns and upgrades, the bowls will be more accessible, which will help because one of them is very heavy at the angle I have to pick it up, and another requires moving a lot of branches and is best to take out while the snake is out (this is Leo) which is fine because I love my boy, but adds time to the process, and makes it harder to start, you know? Maybe if I just got more bowls - I could take the bowl out and immediately replace it, fill the new one, and replace the decor and snake, and then clean the bowl as a separate task? That would be easier for my brain. Currently I have a Specific bowl I prefer to use for each tank, and then everything else is Just In Case, but I mean. Acquiring extras is something I want to do anyway, and it may help with several problems, so. Yeah. I'll try that. But also, any other ideas, guys?

Anxiety: can't stop picking at my face, skin, nails, cuticles, scalp, pretty much everywhere with callouses, also scratched a mole off my face, which is something I've been trying Not to do for a while, so that's...not great. Can't find my earmuffs, and also all of my headphones are painful? Ears are really sensitive lately.

Been playing a lot of Moth Game (flutter: starlight if you wanna be friends say hey I don't know how to do it but would enjoy talking about moths if nothing else. The game is just like, an idle ish collecting game with cutesy versions of different species, and very little actual information, but it's still fun, and if anyone else is on there and also Into Moths like I am, hiiiii) and like it's fun and cute but also greatly impacting my productivity, and raises my stress levels during events, which is most days, so the game has. Not been helping. But I can't stop because then I'll miss Exclusive Moths.

Anyway. Had baklava and two mugs of Thai tea today and the sugar has made me nauseous.

Trying to journal. Hurts to write. Also takes too long. Also my handwriting is very bad. But typing is..not as good

Want to draw. Thinking about drawing cats

Plants again! Want to make seed bombs, have seeds, have most of the other ingredients, just need to put em together, basically.

Really sad :(

Or am I?

Weird noise coming from dining room?

Birds. Spent half an hour at least on the deck tonight listening to a hundred different bird calls (literally) to identify one I was hearing, it was a pine siskin, which I checked early on but the recording was bad and I didn't realize which call was identified. Anyway, cool to put a name to a face, so to speak.

Need to practice for ASL

So much.....to do...

Only had like >3 hours of work this week which was not great because money, but also like I'm really feeling those 3 hours....

My cat is basically refusing to come into my room? Which is very strange and I'm worried something is Off but cannot figure out what. Also means less cuddles which means I'm sad.

It feels strange whenever people follow me, the attention is nice but I have no idea what content y'all are here for. So to everyone: hi, enjoy, hope my random personal posts aren't a surprise to anyone who followed for like. News reblogs and informational stuff.

Do I even have it in me to..be successful in school? Should I drop out of college? I'm struggling really hard and do not feel like I'm building on the skills I need to continue, so like. Uh.

My dad is being. Abrasive.

Mom and grandma are very angry lately

Housemate is also angry, about things i thought we were on good terms about, so I am stressed because like,, are we okay?

Can't find my eye mask :(

Yoga? Like...restorative yoga? Need to track down my PT stuff. And. Do it.

Need to put the stickers on my license plates....oops...

Still haven't found my antidepressants! Yay!

Do I want to store my stuff in open bins, or with lids? Which stuff needs spill protection and stacking capability and which stuff needs easy access?

How to earn money without..chaos

Gotta go to the pet store tomorrow. Have to compile my list of pet store items i need. Uhhhhhhhhhh

Also I have an essay due tomorrow that I've barely started. So. Wooooooo

Kt tape for supporting arches / inner ankles? I keep messing up my ankles, and part of it is walking wrong because I don't have the energy to engage the muscles in my feet/legs right to like, avoid injury, and part of it is I just need new shoes inserts. But i wear slippers a lot and they do not have arch support and it hurts. PT to help with this also but Where Is It

Family can't seem to get dish soap I can use, so I've just been having to avoid washing anything by hand, or being in the general kitchen area while anyone uses the stuff, which has led to more of my dishes sitting out, and more conflict over dishes. Lovely.

How hard is it for parents to learn they have to respect boundaries? Very hard, apparently. And you're supposed to just sort of remind people, and explain, over and over and over but like at this point my self worth is actually pretty good and the lifetime of proof that they do not want to listen? That's making me want to stop trying. Like, if you're not going to respect my boundaries I'm just not going to involve you in my life. I'm not talking to my dad right now because of this. Maybe I'll decide to lay things out to him, again and again and again again, maybe not. And I'm comfortable saying that's on him.

How to drink water

Am I dehydrated or are my hands just completely callous now. My fingertips have such hard skin. Why? It's uncomfortable. This is part of why I've been biting them.

Also testosterone. Been having a lot of trouble doing my shots, because anxiety and physical freakouts, but also not feeling super urgent about it. Which I'm realizing may be a sign i need to look at the effects so far and the possible effects of continuing, and see what they make me feel. It's possible I'm where I want to be as far as T, and don't really want to stay on it. A big thing for me is a deeper voice, so it seems time to take a look at whether I like my voice where it is or want to see if it'll drop any more. Etc etc

Miss my lil sisters

Saw a lot of cool rocks today. Huge (like hand sized) ammonite for $28. May go back and buy one because. Wow.

Want to plant food plants

Also my natives. Whole garden plot standing empty with a bunch of stuff waiting in nursery pots, needing to go in the ground. Because I can't get out of bed. Love that. Stuff is dying out there, I'm dying in here, there's a poetry to it and I do not want to romanticize suffering so I will say this: I brought a Bucket full of moss home a month ago and planted it and now go outside sometimes to drench my moss and it is very rewarding because the stuff is just so green. Incredible. When the rest of my plants are finally in the ground, that feeling will only intensify. But, for now, the moss is very nice.

Made a glow in the dark bead lizard from memory during therapy yesterday, and I love him. Also, still struggling with bringing up autism and psychosis topics with my therapist. Still very worried about. Things. Would like to get a new person? But sometimes she is helpful? And we have a routine. It's very hard to break the routine. Maybe I can set some time aside during the summer, to figure out what to do there.

Term ends in a couple weeks. The task of catching up, of passing, seems impossible. I really need to pass my courses. I'm on academic warning, because my GPA is lower than it should be, and if I can pass all of my classes this term I can get off academic warning but otherwise I'm not sure what will happen to my financial aid.

My phone is playing the same 50-100 songs on shuffle and I don't even particularly like most of them and it is very strange

Got my face wipes! Hooray, i can wash my face again

Been eating too much sugar in general. It's making my joints hurt more, and the nausea

Pet a dog the other day. I miss that. It would be really nice to have a dog in the house again. The exuberance, the cuddles, the tail wagging, the walks... I'd really like that. Maybe once I'm out in my room, tanks and catio built and everyone is situated, I'll look into getting a dog instead of a cat next. Was planning on holding off in case I'm not physically able to take them out on walks and such, but I've been pretty successful at doing this job, and I think that my main hurdle for walking really is motivation. Dog walking is a strong motivator for me. Best to start by fostering, or just do Wag, for a while though. I'm feeling overwhelmed with my current responsibilities, and here I am talking about getting a dog. Good job, me

How do you get wax off of somewhat water soluble rocks? My housemate broke my lava lamp on some of my rock collection and I am not sure how to get some of them clean without damage.

I am...pretty sure there are collared doves nesting over my room but it seems they're less common around here than I thought? But they are..pretty distinctive. Like if I'm wrong, what are those birds. Some very distinctly colored feral pigeons? Who are nesting here, in a tree, without their flock, and who happen to have pretty much the exact same pattern?

Probably should go to the dollar store and get some bins for organizing

Been wanting to keep a bin by the door and stock it with stim/fidget stuff people can just .have ..like extras of some of my favorites and other things i can get ahold of, to offer to my friends who haven't really had the chance to explore the world of stim toys

Hands are really just not doing great the last several weeks. Arthritis type pain cropping up more and more in all the little joints, making it hurt more to write, type, or just use them for whatever. Coordination isn't great because of that distraction, and because my hands/arms are slow to respond and kinda weak. Most people would say I'm not using them enough but I've been doing 15ish hours of manual labor per week, so maybe it's the other direction? More water would help. If only it wasn't so heavy.

I haven't taken a single shower since I started my job. Which was March 29th. That's not great.

Practiced parallel parking today. 10/10 still very bad at it.

Having anxiety that my friends think I'm lying about things, faking, and are watching me to see if I'll slip up. So that sucks. Can either talk about that directly or indirectly, or just shut up about those things until I can get my brain under control again. I'm not sure right now if the reassurance would work as a reality check or make me believe it more, right now, so might hold off on the talking bit for a little while.

Saw, smelled, picked a couple pretty roses. Good times

At this point I'm just trying to list all my thoughts so that maybe I'll be able to sleep and not worry I'll forget

My mom has put her spider plant on the deck, and it has maybe five living leaves. I have no idea how she killed such a well established spider plant, the last time I saw it it was so happy. Did she stick it in a corner and forget to water it? Whatever happened, it is now in the Plant ER, so hopefully I'll be able to...help get it on the up and up again

Leo is such a pretty noodle. He's so pretty. He's posing. Hi, baby boy.

Oh, he saw me moving around and decided to come say hi. Sorry little man, i did not mean to disturb you. Please resume lounging. I can't bring you out right now, I'm trying to sleep.

Also, terrariums. Water features. Need to ask. Someone. The one who was making that super cool garter snake enclosure and blogging the progress? With the lazy river and pool? About maintenance on that kind of setup. My milk snake really enjoys water, and I'd love to put a water feature in his tank. But I'm unclear on how to keep it clean, or honestly where to start. Don't want any huge falls or anything, though it actually may not make the humidity too high if I did maybe a small drip wall into the pool? That seems like something he would enjoy, and a good way to support different types of plants. But like, that's the thing, it's bioactive and I haven't done that before and no amount of research is ever enough.

Oh, Shogun has a dirt hat. How cute. I love when they do that

See, this is the thing. My snakes make me so happy. All three of them are actually hanging out where I can see them from my bed right now, and it's really nice. I want their lives to be the best possible, and I think I have the resources to do that. Which is so exciting. Now if only my brain and body would cooperate. It would hurt quite a lot to have to re-home any of them, but the most important thing is their health and quality of life, you know? If I can't get my act together somewhat, it may be that one or all of them would be better off with another keeper. I don't know. It's just, i talk about all these tank ideas and all this husbandry standards stuff but how much of it actually gets applied to my own animals whose lives are in my hands? How well am I caring for them, really?

Oh!!! My red thread! I thought that was gone forever.

Anyway, please do not worry. My snakes are healthy. I pay attention, and watch for signs of illness, and they're okay. There will always be places to improve, and the water is a big one, but most of the time i change their water out frequently, I'm just worried because of bad depression and fatigue times, you know? I'm working on making the most self sustaining systems i can, in part so that I am sure they'll be okay if I mess up sometimes. Just saying this because I hope you guys don't feel like you need to worry about the welfare of my pets. They're okay, i just always want better for them, is all.

Anyway, the sun is coming up and I should probably go to sleep. So uh, thanks for reading, if you read all of this randomness, and if anyone has thoughts or advice on anything in this post, i would welcome it! Good night!

#mine #long post #snakes #pets #food m #uhhhhhhhhhhhh whatever else needs tagging

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mrneighbourlove · 4 years

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The Rising Sun: Ch 1. Dawn of the Gerudo

Malik roared triumphantly as he walked through Zarazu’s office, the biggest grin on his face in a while. In these years he had a thin beard that Ganondorf kept in some incarnations. The Gerudo Lord was nearly dancing, thrilled with a personal secret. The only thing he told the castle before arriving from out of country was to prepare for his arrival. “The scumbag pirate actually delivered on her biggest contact yet!”

For years now, Malik had talked with the pirate Adda. The Gerudo was his personal captive to do with as he pleased. As awful a woman she was, she was still a Gerudo. And she held Gerudo secrets. Sure, she knew her crew, but she also knew of scattered Gerudo across the world that Malik needed to track down.

"... I really wish you wouldn't work with that woman, Malik." Zarazu was in the middle of a huge stack of papers with a map sprawled out on her desk. There were rumors of another continent. Yet, she could not exactly pinpoint where it could be. There were so little travelers from other places, what other information could be gathered? "She's not exactly trustworthy."

“I hold her life in my hands, and give her sunlight from time to time. She respects power. I am power. So, we have an understanding. But enough about her.” Malik pulled out a map of the Gerudo desert. “It’s time Zarazu. I found not only enough Gerudo now, but the right Gerudo to run and fill this town.”

"And who might that be?" Zarazu knew that Malik really wanted to try to revitalize the Gerudo community. Yet, sometimes, when someone was too eager, mistakes could be made. "Adda is staying in her cell."

“Of course she is. And perhaps it’s best you met one of the women I’ll be working with.”

Malik turned to the door, and with the command of his hand, he waved a Gerudo woman in. She was fit, but not overly muscly. With a cloak over her head, she had rings and earrings made of rubies and sapphires on her person. She looked a little anxious, but swallowed her fears down as Malik introduced her. “I present to you, Gali Kalpaka. Her family has carried Gerudo traditions from generation to generation. Like Cass, they lived as merchants to survive.”

Gali lowered her cloak, the forty-year-old woman smiling to the Queen. “Vasaaq. Lord Malik honours me by bringing me to the Queen of Hyrule. I am Gali.”

"It is nice to meet you, Gali." Zarazu stood from her desk to greet the woman. "If Malik trusts you, then so do I. Rebuilding the Gerudo community has been a task that has been neglected for too long. I am glad that you will take part in this event for the shaping of our children's futures."

“I couldn’t help but spy on the conversation you were having. My mother had a deal with Adda. She’d take in willing Gerudo who didn’t wish to be pirates. I, however, have no relationship with this Adda, so please do not be worried.” Gali finished shaking her hand. “Lord Malik told us all the tale of how Ganondorf came to tame the beast within. How his son worked hard to give the Gerudo a name of honour amongst Hyrule again. And that he himself was a relic from times long forgotten. Currently, there are 27 different families in my caravan alone awaiting a new home with safe borders.”

Malik was beaming with pride at his actions. “Indeed. This has always been my dream. To see the Gerudo rise up once more. I never decided to grasp that dream until I breathed with my own flesh and blood again. But now it’s a reality that seems possible. Zarazu, with my guidance, you’re about to see a boom of revived culture not seen since your brother in law down at the plantation.”

"It seems like the two of you have a lot to accomplish in such little time." Zarazu then asked. "If you require some help shaping this community, I could introduce you to some very reliable Zemljas, Kovinas, and some Vodas if you need to create a well system." She took a look at the map where the new Gerudo village would be located. "We would have to establish a proper road there as well." Pausing, she then suggested. "Malik, might I suggest you take your family there for a while? I could give Asa leave from the forge for a couple of weeks."

“That’s the beauty of it Zarazu. I wanted it to be a surprise to you.” Malik giggled. An honest to god giggle escaped his lips. “I’ve had the help of your people and associates of mine for a while in constructing not only the town, with all its vegetation, housing, and clean water supply, but a road right into Hyrule. Pulled a lot of strings to keep it secret from you, but I think the surprise is well worth it.”

Malik shocked both the women with pictographs of what the village looked like. Stone houses with solid doors and curtains to keep out the elements, an oasis in the middle of the town, multiple wells, a pool to swim at, mighty walls and gates, a small palace, and plentiful market with fruits ready to be given to the new citizens. “I call it Taiyo Town, home to the Gerudo. Soon we’ll even have our old temple ready again.”

Gali was in total shock, never having had a house before in her life. “Sa’oten! I-I can’t- I don’t-“

“I believe the words you’re looking for, is Sarqso.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Gali couldn’t hide her tears of excitement now.

"....?!?!" Zarazu was shocked. Malik was not too good at keeping secrets like this for long. Then again, she was not sure what to think of this. A development of a new community without the knowledge being shared with the king and queen, that was a little... uncalled for. There were a lot of regulations to put into place. Covarog would probably going to shit a brick unless Malik did share this with him beforehand. Either way, this was a lot to take in for now. "I... am happy for both of you, yet there is still work to be completed to ensure a proper thriving community."

“Of course. And we shall all work together to build a bright future. Once the Gerudo refugees are settled, it will bring me great joy to bring family and yours to the town.” What could go wrong?

Revan, son of Malik, narrowed his eyes down at Luimaya. So it had come down to this. “Luimaya. You’re my friend, but you have the hottest temper I know. I didn’t want to cross this line, but your disregard for common sense made me have to step over your head. I’m sorry it has come to this... King Covarog, I insist, given the attack on Zarazu and Luimaya from the vampire, she needs to have a full time bodyguard.” Revan was a Tatl Tael, even in his twenties. A mark on his honour to be sure, but a necessary sacrifice. His stubborn friend needed to listen to the only person who might be able to ground some real sense into her.

"I don't need someone watching me every minute of every day!" Luimaya insisted, "And I have plenty of common sense, I just don't want to use it sometimes."

"You are to be the future queen of our kingdom, Luimaya." Covarog told his daughter, understanding her point but also knowing Revan was looking out for his child's future. "Even your mother had a bodyguard for over a decade."

"Yeah, but Mom was waddling around pregnant half of that time." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not married, I'm not pregnant, and I certainly don't need a babysitter."

"You're more reckless than your mother diving off that tower when I first met her." Covarog stated to his daughter in a dry tone. "I believe Revan has a point."

"Well, fine! Then Carsa'sec can be my bodyguard."

"He can't fit in the castle."

"He'll be my bodyguard outside of the castle."

"You need someone inside the castle."

“I volunteer. If it weren’t for my common sense and tactics, that vampire would have taken us down before you can say Bleh.” Revan lifted a brow at Luimaya.

“Unless her royal fire highness objects.”

"While I appreciate you volunteering, I'm not so sure your father or mother would want you to have such a dangerous job."

"It won't be dangerous because I don't need a bodyguard!"

"We could organize a contest to see who proves themselves worthy of holding the mantle."

"Dad! No! Urgh!" Luimaya groaned. "Not another one of those contests like Grandpa used to hold."

"What? He'll love it, those are fun." Covarog grinned widely, loving the look of dismay on his daughter's face. "Besides, consider this your punishment for being so reckless during a fight."

Revan frowned, sighing deeply. Maybe King Covarog was getting too protective with age. “My King, I assure you it’ll be a waste of time.”

"Oh, it will be like old times!" Covarog wrapped an arm around Revan's shoulders and then Luimaya's, earning a loud groan from both of the youngsters. "Get a bit of a crowd going on too. The kingdom will love it!"

"... this is your fault. You and your big mouth's." Luimaya blamed Revan. "I'm going to have my dragon sit on you later for this."

“...Oh King Covarog! Don’t you think Luimaya should get dolled up for the big event? After all, motivation to see the princess they wish to protect might make the battles more engaging if Luimaya pours her heart and soul into seeking the perfect bodyguard.” Revan had the perfect tone to hide sarcasm. He shot her a cheeky smile.

"Don't you fucking dare---"

"Luimaya, language." Covarog chided his daughter. "I do think this should be a family event for sure. We'll all look our best for the tournament!"

"... sleep with one eye open, you prick."

Revan smartly made his way out, giving Luimaya a smartass wink and comment. “My my. Haven’t you heard that rudeness often disguised intrigue? I’m sure ‘prick’ is the most romantic name you can think of in the heat of the moment, but do try to do better next time my ‘sweet’. Till later Luimaya.” Revan turned his back to her, his face immediately shifting to regret and worry as he could feel Luimaya fire daggers from her eyes into his back.

With a sigh, he took a deep breath to relax as he shut the door behind him. Despite being three years older, herself only about three to four years shy of thirty, Luimaya still could have the same temper she held since ten. "Note to self. Look out for the skies."

Asakonigei had everything perfect. Dinner was Malik's favorite dish, the peach cobbler was cooling, and the side of vegetable medley with herbs smelled wonderful. It was his first day off in a while, and she missed him greatly. His work was important, but sometimes, she wished he would take on less responsibilities and enjoy his time at home. Revan and Donoma were out with friends, so this evening would be some one-on-one quality time... another aspect of life the two of them had been lacking lately.

Malik entered the house, a red cape trailing behind him. Carefully, he took the garment off, folding it gently and placing it on a rack. Smelling the air, he smiled. "Smells good."

Asakonigei had on her prettiest outfit, and even a touch of tribal paint on her eyelids. She wanted to look beautiful for her husband and hopefully, later, entice him. Smiling widely, she told him, "It's your favorite. You've been working so hard lately, so I wanted to surprise you. The kids are out, so it's a date night; just me and you."

"Oh." Malik cleared his throat, trying not to dampen the mood. "Yes. Thank you for the lovely surprise. I do appreciate it Asa, I do, but I need to leave in the early morning."

Asakonige's smile instantly vanished into a dark frown.

"It's your day off tomorrow." The Kovina was. Not. Pleased. "What do you mean you have to leave?"

"There was an incident at the temple. Turns out some of the new warriors haven't even seen monsters before. No casualties, but there were injuries." Malik kept speaking as he dished himself a plate up. "I came here to grab old drill instructions so I can teach them how to be effective fighters. I don't need any blood spilled due to inexperience. So I'll need to save my energy for the trip back through the valley."

That was the last straw for Asakonigei.

"Are you kidding me right now?!" She slammed her hands hard on the dinner table, causing the dishware to rattle. "You want to know how much you've been home within the past months, Malik? Nine days. Nine days, day and night, here, with me and your family. You want to know how many dinners you've actually sat down and ate with us instead of looking at your paperwork? Five. Five dinners. You want to know how many nights you've slept beside of me in our bed instead of in your office on the couch? Three nights." The Kovina stated firmly. "I am tired of this. I understand you have responsibilities for your job, but you also have a duty to your family!"

“I have a duty to my people as well. A duty to make up for my failure in protecting them in my first life.” Malik narrowed his eyes at her, slowly gesturing to the chair. “Would you like sit down and have meal number six?”

"You have one life, Malik. One. You don't have to devote all of it to making up for the sins of the past. Whether you want to spend some of it with your family, with me, that's up you." Asakonigei took off her earrings, her beaded necklace, and used a cloth to be rid of the tribal paint. "Eat your dinner by yourself. I'm going to go cool off before I really lose my temper." Tromping out of the kitchen, the Kovina walked out the back door and headed to the forge. She needed to hit some metal to feel better.

“Unbelievable...”, Malik muttered under his breath.

Outside, to the surprise of Asakonigei, she heard light talk coming from a training yard. Revan didn’t think anyone was around, so he was training with a latex mask around his head, jabbing his fists at a dummy. He wanted to test his new sneaking suit out. “Ha! What’s the matter? You late for the scumbag convention? Don’t worry, jail makes a good substitute.”

"... if you're planning a raid or a robbery, my son, I think you'd be able to breathe better with cotton material instead of that... thing." Asakonigei chuckled when Revan jumped slightly, being so focused on the dummy, he didn't hear her approach. "Though, if you need someone to hide the loot, I'd suggest the cellar."

“Oh my god...” Revan stopped, his movements, clearly embarrassed. “It’s not a mask of a villainous bandit, but a masked hero. I wanted to wear it at the tournament I’m going to attend.”

"A tournament?" Asakonigei asked, interested, trying her best to suppress a grin of amusement at her son's mortification. "Like the arm wrestling tournament you tried in Uskar to win a year-long supply of mead and ended up with a sprained wrist?"

Asakonigei looked her son up and down.

"Well, I don't see any burnt skin, so I'm surprised that Luimaya didn't try to roast you." She quirked an eyebrow. "I know how she is. She hates someone constantly looking over her shoulder." The Kovina then asked her boy. "And... I'm assuming you're going to enter this contest to guard her?"

“That’s the plan. I rather she has a friend look after her than some blockhead.”

"I think that's admirable of you, Revan. Your father did protect our queen all those years ago." Asakonigei recalled that was a much easier job for her husband than this folly he was doing now. Though, Luimaya was very stubborn like her father and grandfather. She figured Revan would have his work cut out for him. "Might I suggest if you really want to do this, that you take a moment and think about the future?"

“In what way?”

"You might want a family one day, or even a life of your own away from the castle." Asakonigei gently reminded her son. "I want you to do what makes you happy. However, if you are the bodyguard of the future queen, it's not like you'll be able to leave your occupation anytime soon. You will have to guard her until she produces an heir and that heir is mostly grown, or capable of protecting his or herself. That is years, Revan. It will be difficult if you wish to marry, to have children, to travel, if you are tied down by your job." She then asked him. "Are you prepared for your life to take a backseat for the sake of the kingdom?"

“I don’t need to guard her long term. Just until she can learn to take care of herself better. Or better substitute than me comes along.” Revan took his mask off, raising a brow at her. “Why you out here and not pouncing dad at the moment?”

"You will be there for a long time, Revan. Luimaya, as much as I think she's a sweet girl, is reckless just like her father." Asakonigei then snorted. "Your father has to leave. Again. Eat, pack, and go."

“Oh.” Revan wasn’t too surprised by that. “Can only imagine his town project is going well. Donoma says it’s pretty.”

Out of the whole family, only Donoma was allowed to see the town in its construction twice or thrice. “Maybe if I dyed my hair red and put on woman’s clothing I could sneak in. Who knows when he’ll let in outsiders and men. Hopefully soon.”

"Supposedly." Asakonigei was not too enthused about this project taking so much of her husband's time. Especially in a town full of women who would be drawn to a Gerudo male. She knew her husband would not betray her that way, but she didn't trust the women there. "I wouldn't worry too much about the town, sweetie. If you want some help training, I'll pull out my puppet knights."

“Why not pick up a sword yourself ma?” Revan grabbed a sword, twirling it in his hand. “I’m planning not using my powers either in the tournament.”

"Oh, you want to sword fight with your mom like you did when you were little?" Asakonigei recalled the days of when Revan would hold his tiny wood sword and just tackle her legs, declaring he 'got her' and he 'won'. It was adorable. She gushed, "You were so cute when waved it around declaring yourself the champion."

"That's because I was fantastic." Revan smirked. "Your move mama bear."

As Revan was practicing with his mother, Malik was already preparing his horse for the trip back to the desert. He glanced over to hear the sounds of laughter and heroics. It seemed he was training for something. Odd. The older Gerudo made a silent pray for his son’s success, then continued onwards.

Asakonigei was all for theatrics when training with her son. She was nowhere near his level of skill, but still enthusiastically practiced with him. She then tossed down her sword and got her boy in a headlock, messing up his hair.

"I got you now! I am going to... mess up this hair," Asakonigei declared and then gave him multiple kisses on the cheek. "And give you cooties!"

Revan just laughed, reaching his hands back to tickle his mother’s chest. “And I come back around with the surprise attack!”

"Oh no, he's got me!" Asakonigei dramatically flopped over on the ground, before swiping Revan's feet out from underneath him, causing him to fall over too. "But I got you back!" She snickered and then took a huge sigh. "I think you'll do well, Revan. Just don't be too eager. Watch your opponent closely."

“Will do.”

Revan’s laughter finished when his attention was caught by the near silent clop of his father’s horse next to him. He rode a monstrously large black horse named Phantom. It could carry ten times its own weight. Strapped to the sides, Malik had supplies and a round device next to him. Armoured up, it seemed he was ready to leave. His father looked down at both of them, seemingly not tired. “Would you like to join me?”

"...?" Asakonigei had a quizzical look on her face. "Join you?"

“I’m leaving back for the desert. I packed a spinner for you travel quickly back. I thought we could all catchup on the way to the border.”

"... well, I don't know," Asakonigei was still mad at him and crossed her arms, laying on the grassy ground. She stopped to look at Revan. "Our son might need his mother in the stands, yelling for him to kickass. Or perhaps, my husband can tell me exactly why he wants me to go when this invitation has not been extended before?"

“The stands?”

Revan nodded to collaborate his mother’s statement. “I’m attending a tournament to become Luimaya’s personal bodyguard.”

“Really? That’s not a bad occupation. She certainly needs protection. When is this tournament?”

“King Covarog didn’t give a date, but I’d imagine soon.”

“I see.” Malik then turned his attention to Asakonigei. “Because you’re my wife. If we can’t spend time together here, or have you see the importance of my work, perhaps it’s time to start opening outside elements to the Gerudo people. Starting with the beautiful woman who gave birth to our sun, Donama. There are some who are curious about you.”

"... very well. I'll go with you." Asakonigei added one stipulation. "But I'm taking Nubi'ahlus. There's pretty of monsters in the desert and while I know you can protect us, there can always be an extra eye."

“As long as they keep to the sky. I can warn the people about them later so they don’t fear for their lives.” Malik made a gesture for them to both hop aboard his stead. As the family unit finished climbing aboard, Malik took off with them. Both Asakonigei’s and Revan’s dragons were alerted and flew from above in the early night.

“So Revan, do you feel prepared for this tournament.”

“Of course. I’m going to handicap myself and not use my powers.”

“Really? Impressive. You’ll have to tell us all about it if we can’t make it.”

Revan nodded, hands tight on the horse. “It won’t be anything impressive to see anyways. Except maybe to see Luimaya lose her cool when she discovers who won.”

"Now, now, you need to tell Luimaya you're going to enter." Asakonigei was so ready to get off of the horse. She hated the constant bouncing, but was trying to amuse her husband for the time being. "If she finds out later, she might just find a way to throttle you."

“Maybe that’s I want~” Revan teased.

This only got a sigh out of his father. “You know, if you’re going to put so much energy into tormenting a girl’s feelings, maybe you should do it to someone you share interest in.”

Revan felt his heart get emotionally stabbed by that. “Ouch dad.”

“I’m just saying. You told us yourself you got over your crush of Luimaya. Why torture yourself?”

"Sweetie, look, Luimaya sees you as a friend. Just because you're nice to her and have known her for a long time, doesn't mean she's going to marry you." Asakonigei had to give her son some tough love. "She's not required to do that. Now, if you want someone who is going to love you for you, then it takes patience. I know a certain cutie who does like you, but she's not going to pursue you because she thinks you're still hung up on Luimaya. And you are."

“Yeah, I know that, I’ve accepted that.”

“Then why don’t you and Nakeso stop fucking around with your feelings for one another?”

That turned Revan bright red, and he actually fell of the horse as they took a leap over a small bump in the road. “God damn it that hurt! Dad! That is NONE of your business!”

Malik turned the horse around, Phantom gruffing as they spun about. “Orana asked the same thing of her daughter once. You’re both compatible, you both enjoy one another’s company.”

"Malik, you've stunned the boy stupid." Asakonigei sounded exasperated as Revan hit the ground with a thud. "Look, Nakeso isn't going to chase you around like a lovesick puppy. She's got standards and morals. If you want to pursue her, that's up to you, but she's not going to wait forever."

“Oh. So it’s on me now is it? You two don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Revan brushed himself off, whistling for his ride to come down. “Nakeso is a good friend. I have no idea where you picked these false flags up from.”

Malik said nothing, raising a brow slowly.

"... he gets that denseness from your side of the family." Asakonigei told Malik dryly. "I know it."

“Absolutely not.”

Revan started to storm off, getting out to an open area for his dragon to safely land. “Have fun at your girls Gerudo club. I’ll mail you a post card of my new job status.”

"And he definitely getting the sulking from your side of the family too." Asakonigei stated as she pulled her locks back into a tail. "At least he got my fabulous hair."

Revan jumped aboard As’wana, but before he could fly off in a pout, Malik spoke up. Best not leave the conversation on a teasing note. “Revan. We only love you. You know that. Just focus on acquiring your position for now. I believe whole heartedly you can do so.”

Revan took a deep breath and exhaled his angst. “…Whatever father.”

With that, he flew off back home, leaving his father and mother alone.

"He'll be okay." Asakonigei watched as her son flew back in the direction of Hyrule. "Revan just needed to hear what he did not want to hear. Luimaya will never see him the way he wishes for her to."

“Last thing I need is a young man having his feelings twisted by a whole village of attractive women because he can’t focus his heart.” Now more alone, Malik’s hands held Asakonigei close. “You still mad?”

"... a little." Asakonigei admitted, feeling awfully small when Malik held her. "You've spent so much time away from home. I was afraid for a while, you were bored of me."

“Why would I ever be bored of you?”

"Well, you were gone for so long, paying attention to your project, and we... um..." Asakonigei blushed lightly. "It's been months since we've even made love."

Malik tilted his head. Looking around, he suddenly surprised her by getting off his horse, and grabbing her with a haul over his shoulder. They started to walk to a nice smooth cave.

"H-Hey!" Asakonigei did not appreciate being carried around like a sack of potatoes. What was her husband thinking now? Wasn't he going to be late if he did not stick to the schedule? "What are you doing?!"

Although Malik gently set her down, his arm and legs pinned her, and he looked down at her with intense passion. “I’m going to spend the next half an hour making love to my wife.”

Now that certainly caught Asakonigei's attention. There was a faint blush on her cheeks, but then she raised an eyebrow. "Only a half hour?"

“I do have a schedule to keep, and we don’t want to your scent being picked up.” Malik’s voice grew as low as the days he was Klinge. His metal hand clawed down her pants, his tongue licking his lips. “So perhaps I should change loving making to fucking to get more enjoyment of our time.”

"Oh? My scent? What about yours? It's usually a little more... potent." Asakonigei nipped at his lower lip with her teeth. "And I'm not sure about that, love... it's been a long while. Sure you remember the difference?"

“I’ve never forget.” Leaning closer, Malik reminded Asa of his devotion with a firm kiss to the lips. Perhaps the jackals hollowing in the night would hide their passionate cries.

________________________________________________________________

Next Ch.

New crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse! Please enjoy and love to hear comments more than anything!

#crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Klinge/Malik #Gerudo #Asakonigei #Revan #Gali

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awyeahitssam · 5 years

Text

(The Nogitsune stole something precious from Stiles, but it left knowledge in its wake.

Stiles swears she will never use it.

Stiles is a liar.)

“I don’t want kids,” Peter tells her early on.

I don’t want anything more to lose, Stiles hears, and agrees.

(Stiles has always wanted children. At least three - enough that the child wouldn’t be alone, wouldn’t have only its fallible parents to rely on.)

(Stiles probably won’t live long enough for kids to be viable, and she wants Peter more.)

Ana glows with happiness. Peter trails behind her, fond and amused, a tiny dress in hand. “Something more like this, sweetheart,” he says, holding up the outfit with a flourish. Ana rolls her eyes but laughs, and Stiles aches.

They’re in love, she realizes.

It’s somehow worse than the fact that Peter was married at all.

Peter calls his wife sweetheart, and once he called Stiles that too, and she wants to scream and break apart the world.

It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair, but that wasn’t anything new.

Mate was nothing when you had wife and child. Stiles was just a last resort, as always. Something that allowed Peter to cling to his sanity.

And if he was gentle with her, if he kissed and worshiped and acted like he loved her, that was down to instinct.

The Hale’s would all live - Stiles had already guaranteed that.

At the time, she hadn’t realized she would be damning herself.

And worse yet, she would have done it regardless.

(Malia is dead, and Stiles watches Peter break over the daughter he’s never known. Over the woman she’ll never have the chance to become.

“Talia stole her from me,” he whispers into her neck, later, curled together in the darkness. Seeking solace in one another.

“I must have wanted her.” He murmurs, half crazed. “Why else would she have taken my memories?”)

Malia is running around the woods as a coyote, the Hale’s are alive, and Talia is doing nothing.

(Stiles has never been one to get angry on her own behalf, but for others she tore apart realities.)

She cradled the eight year old on her hip and bangs on the Hale house door, a snarl curling her lips.

David answers, smile faltering as he takes in the visitors.

“I need to speak with your wife privately.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but then his nostrils flare. His eyes widen in surprise, and he breathes deeply again, searching for confirmation as his eyes bore into the side of Malia’s head.

Scent is largely environmental, but wolves can still identify each other by it if they’ve met before. Talia wasn’t alone in secreting away Peter’s child, it seemed. Stiles bared her teeth. “Now.”

David hardly hesitates, just meets her unfaltering gaze and frowns. He nods sharply, turns on his heel and leads her upstairs. He raps on the open door of Talia’s home office even as Stiles is already striding past him, and Talia is rising to her feet to meet her.

“What were you thinking?” Stiles hisses, fingers curling into ineffective claws. “They weren’t equipped to take care of her. Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve done?! You turned a little girl into a killer!”

Stiles wants children. She’s always wanted children.

She can’t have them, though.

The Nogitsune took many things.

It takes that, too.

“Don’t forget me,” Malia begged.

They were parked in front of Peter’s cottage, and Stiles had just been helping Malia out of the jeep when the girl jumped up and wrapped around her like a barnacle. She clung tight, cold nose nuzzling into her neck, legs wrapped around her waist.

“Of course not, lionheart,” Stiles cooed, putting one arm under Malia to support her and scenting her back with the other. “I care about you. Whatever your father decides, I’m here for you always.”

“You have Mischief, though,” Malia whispered.

“You can love more than one person at a time, Lia.”

The girl huffed against her neck. Stiles waited, knowing there was more. Something Malia had been holding back for days, ever since Stiles told her who they were visiting.

“What if they don’t want me?”

“They want you,” Stiles said firmly. “If they didn’t, your father wouldn’t have fought so hard for this meeting. Take a breath baby girl. You are my pack. Mieczyslaw adores you, and I will always want you.”

Malia took a big breath and exhaled against her neck. Stiles ran a hand through her hair a few more times, before kneeling down to set Malia on her feet. “Are you ready?”

Malia nodded, curls bouncing. Stiles smiled, touching their foreheads together. “You’re an extraordinary girl, Lia. Very smart and brave. They would have to be brain dead not to like you.”

Malia bit her bottom lip against a smile. Nodded again.

“Hold my hand?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not letting go of Stiles’ hand,” Malia said matter-of-factly. “That way she can’t leave me with you.”

Peter blinked down at his daughter, looking torn between amusement and sadness. Ana smiled.

“Well she’s certainly yours, Peter. Kid doesn’t pull any punches.”

Stiles ran a hand through honey curls, tightening her grip obligingly.

“I encouraged her to be clear with what she wants,” Stiles admitted. “Kids don’t get much of a say, but she should in this. It’s her life. She doesn’t deserve to be railroaded by adults that think they know best.”

(She says she doesn’t want to be around Mommy and they say ‘you might not have much time left.’ What they mean is ‘too bad,’ and ‘suck it up,’ and Stiles will carry the mental and physical scars of that for years to come.)

(Children didn’t magically gain the right to say ‘no,’ and be listened to at a certain age, but the world seemed to think that’s when you have to start paying attention.)

“I believe that’s a good course of action,” Peter allowed, eyeing Stiles keenly before dismissing her for his daughter. “Hopefully you can grow to like us as much as you do Stiles, sweetheart.”

Malia looked dubious, but shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What do you like to do, Malia?”

“I used to braid my sisters hair a lot,” she says. “I know fishtail braids, and French braids, and normal braids. But Kiley is dead and Stiles has short hair, so I don’t do that anymore.”

Ana doesn’t seem to know what to say to that, and even Peter is faltering, unsure how to deal with grief in such a young and blunt package.

Stiles doesn’t have that struggle. She knows how different a child’s grief is, how their minds aren’t yet adult and don’t conform to certain expectations.

“I only know how to braid normally,” Stiles tells her. “Though Mischief is growing out his hair, and I’m sure it will be long enough to braid in another year or so, if he doesn’t get tired of it by then. You can teach me your special ways then.”

Malia tilts her head, then nods slowly. “Okay. I’m not a good teacher like you, though.”

“I’m probably not the best student,” Stiles says in turn. “What about you guys? Any braiding knowledge?”

“I only know the French braid and standard,” Ana admitted.

“Standard here, too, though I do make a mean bun.”

“How is it mean?”

“Mean as in ‘oh sweet, awesome!’ not rude.”

“Oh! That’s cool, I guess.”

Stiles grins at the girl, brushing a hand through her hair. “English is very cool. But it’s not your favorite, yeah?”

“No, geography ‘s better! ‘Cause different places have different climates and cultures and surroundings, and mom could speak three languages, and I wanna grow up to be just like her!”

“An admirable goal,” Peter says, and Stiles is glad neither of the Hale’s look stricken. “It’ll be hard work.”

Malia shrugs and nods in the same motion. “Stiles and Mischief are helping me learn Polish, and then Stiles says once I can speak pretty fluidly—”

“Fluently,” Stiles corrects absently.

“We can start learning Spanish!”

“You’re trilingual as well?” Ana asks. She looks impressed.

“More or less.”

Stiles is fine - comfortable, even - keeping the conversation engaging when it’s on Malia. Her, however… well, she hardly wants to become close to Peter and his pregnant wife.

“I’m rather assuming more?” Peter prompts, one eyebrow cocked. A familiar sting of irritation stirs in Stiles as the shadow of haughtiness, old and familiar.

This isn’t her Peter, who trusts in her abilities absolutely, whose mind matches and challenges her own. She measures her voice, careful to keep it even.

“I only speak English, Polish and Spanish fluently, though I can read most slavic languages along with a few others.”

“Impressive,” he says softly, eyes flitting back to Malia. He doesn’t push, and she doesn’t let herself resent it. He’s not hers at all. “Who’s Mischief?”

“He’s kinda my friend,” Malia offers. “He’s pretty moody, sometimes, but nice too.”

Stiles snorts. Mourning is more accurate than moody, but of course Malia calls anything remotely grumpy ‘moody,’ so it’s true enough. “She means Mieczyslaw Stilinski, my nephew.”

Ana blinks. “Isn’t that the new sheriff’s kid?”

“Yes.”

“His mom’s dead too,” Malia says casually. It’s callous enough that Stiles can’t suppress her flinch, because alternate reality or not Claudia is still Stiles’ mother and she loved her.

“Yes, there’s that, though I believe you both bond over being pests more than anything.”

Malia frowns. “Pests? I thought we were hellions?”

“Well, that all depends on the crime Jellybean,” Stiles smirks back, wiggling her eyebrows. Malia snorts and rolls her eyes, even as her scent blooms with delight. They eye rolling she’s either picked up from Stiles or Mieczyslaw.

“It was only one can.”

“The whip cream was for dessert. Consuming it directly from the can would be understandable - natural, even - but wasting it on my fresh sheets--”

“We wanted to see what you’d look like with long hair!” Malia protested, not for the first time.

“Yes, long, white, squishy hair.”

“You’re just mad ‘cause some went up your nose,” Malia grumbled.

“No, I was irritated because Strawberry Shortcake isn’t complete without whipped cream, and that’s what you said you wanted for dessert.” Stiles huffed. “Plus I showered before I laid down.”

Ana’s laughter was light and soft, like a wind chime. Stiles snorted and chuckled and giggled, completely unladylike.

Stiles wondered if Peter had looked at her, seen the exact opposite of the woman he once loved, and chose.

She wants to break something.

Instead she takes a deep breath and keeps her focus on Malia.

#steter #time travel #kid fic #infertility #magic Stiles #married Peter #to be continued?#disjointed snippets #this is how I write #my process isn't a process #Insanely-Yours96 #buckets of angst #rage #spiraling #and pulling yourself together because too many people depend on you #ain't that just the way

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fedoranonymous · 4 years

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Last night was the first time since I was like 5 I couldn't watch the Debates.

My dad wrote political op eds semi professionally for most of my childhood, it was a Thing for him to have us watch it, for a few reasons. To get an "unbiased" view of how well spoken the candidates were, for the littles, since the average voter doesn't have a multiple degrees in communication and politics lmao. To have us participate in the same conversation as a family, since this is All He's Going To Be Talking About For The Next Four Weeks dot jpeg. For the older kids, this was often the first time during the election cycle they paid attention to what was going on, nationally. Mostly just because if it was something my older brother (11 years older than me), mom, and dad were doing, I wanted to do it too.

There have been times where I've lost interest, especially before I was 12 and copy editing for dad's run on American Street. Too many terms d'arte (legalese for legalese) feels like people aren't saying what they mean. Sometimes people are shitty public speakers, nervous or soft-spoken or distractible.

And like, my dad was a lawyer, a loud guy who loves getting into debates and could and would play devil's advocate at the drop of a hat just to get the conversation style he was most comfortable with going. I can handle a certain amount of Toxic Communication: cross talk, interjections, ad hominem attacks, the volume steadily rising to well above anyone's comfortable shouting tone. My Sunday regulars still go for that shit and sometimes I just can't handle it.

Last night about 5 minutes into the Debate I got hit with a massive anxiety episode that has not abated even after sleep. After about ten minutes I had to leave the room entirely.

I understand that Joe is very much Just A Guy in his communication style and that's not going to change at this point in his life, so Trump style interjections were absolutely going to work on getting him off topic and engaging in that one on one, toxic "debate" style the Debates are structured to avoid, with their strict timers and whatnot. And Joe showed very early on that he expected this.

But hearing Joe and That Guy I Don't Want On My TV and the whatchacallit, the guy who leads the debate, all three of them spiraling upwards in volume and panic, switching topics like chickens with their heads cut off, it was disheartening and I hated it.

Hey America? Can we agree on something? None of this shit again.

First off vote for Joe, because he's the only option where we don't abandon the sick, the disabled, the elderly, the poor, and the working poor entirely to push through and start over with something likely worse than even the USA we have now, and what we have now hasn't been working for a while. Yeah, it might be easier to burn it all down for either political party, but you most likely either are one of those groups without realizing it, or are one bad day away from being one of those groups, and honestly it just seems inhumane to abandon 90% of people to near certain death and dismemberment in a purely anarchistic rip the page out and start over strategy. Grow up. Don't be sure you'd be fine, and have empathy for those know they wouldn't.

Second of all, destroy the electoral college, separate party primaries, and gerrymandering so that third parties, independents, and multiple different flavors of the same idea can have voices, because our political choices shouldn't boil down to "become 1950s Cuba" and "become 2000s Canada".

Third off, destroy the culture of "I don't care about politics". No. You don't care about These Candiates' politics, maybe, but any infinitesimal opinion you have can translate into politics. My sister thinks her daughter should put the $10 a week she makes walking her neighbor's dog into savings? So she believes that some or all of people's earnings should be put aside to benefit them later in life, an idea that is currently manifested as social security but can also be done many other ways. I tell her this and she loses her fucking mind, of course, because she was the kid who had to do the opposite of whatever mom and dad did: she had to be a fan of Michigan instead of Ohio State, Pepsi instead of Coke, Trump instead of Literally Anyone I Am So Serious Jeb Would Not Have Been Half This Bad And I Was Never Convinced He Was Any Better Than His Brother.

Uh.

The point is, there's no fucking thing as being political apathetic, there's just not being politically represented by the two major parties although the choice should be fucking obvious by now people; the technology we have available in 2020 means we should rethink some precedents set in 1776 (the one set in 1784 can stay); if you think you can just burn the constitution down and start over, you're an ablist, ageist, classist douchecanoe; anyone trying to say anything is better than voting instead of something to do while waiting for your opportunity to vote is participating in disenfranchisement; and if Donald Trump never speaks in public again, it'll be too soon for my tastes.

I'm gonna have a hot chocolate and read a book about aliens.

#dispassionate liberal 2: oh god what the fuck is this #american politics

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justlookfrightened · 5 years

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If you’re still taking prompts, how about “long distance relationship” for zimbits?

“How long are you here for?” Bitty asked, glancing at Jack’s image on the screen.

“Three days,” Jack said. “We have the Kings on Thursday and the Ducks on Saturday. We change hotels in between, though.”

“Any team commitments on Friday?”“No practice,” Jack said. “Yet. Meetings and a workout.”

“Are you free for dinner?” Bitty asked. “And after?”

“Pretty sure I can be,” Jack said. “I don’t know if I can stay with you, though. Can you come to the hotel in Anaheim?”

“Of course, sugar,” Bitty said. “Oops, meeting’s starting. Love you, See you Thursday?”

“You’ll be at the game?” Jack said.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Bitty said.

“I’ll see if I can get that night to stay at your place,” Jack said.

“Just let me know,” Bitty said. “Is it okay if I bring treats for the boys after the game?”

“Maybe I can bring them in Friday,” Jack said. “Love you. See you soon.”

Bitty closed his laptop and headed for the conference room, ready to plan the season’s third episode.

The job in Los Angeles had been a dream come true. He was the food and dining consultant for a lifestyle makeover show for families, something like “Queer Eye,” although the on-screen crew weren’t all men and weren’t all gay. A lot of his time was spent trying to convince parents that their children actually would eat something besides mac and cheese and chicken tenders. Usually the kids were easier, especially if they were presented with something colorful. Extra points if they could eat with their fingers.

The family for Episode 3 consisted of two moms with a hockey-playing son. They would have to work on family scheduling and budgeting, nutrition for a growing boy who participated in a demanding sport. The group would also be providing advice on how to navigate what was still a male-dominated, homophobic sports culture, and how best to protect against injuries.

Bitty, for one, was looking forward to lacing up his skates for one segment, knowing he was probably the only one of the crew who could keep up with the 12-year-old bantams.

If only he could get Jack on camera, but the taping wouldn’t be for weeks yet, even if Jack could get the Falcs and his agent to agree it would be a good idea.

Maybe he could bring Philip and and his moms to one of the games this weekend? Just get a quick meet-and-greet in the corridor after the game?

************

Bobbie bounced in her seat every time they played music at the Staples Center, and leaned forward and focused on the game with an intensity that rivalled Jack’s. Bobbie, one of the producers, had greeted Bitty on his first day in Los Angeles by gushing over his spinorama that led to the winning goal in the Frozen Four when he was the Wellies’ captain, and had become his go-to hockey companion ever since.

They made the jumbotron, probably because Bitty was a semi-recognizable face after two seasons, he was in a Zimmermann Falconers’ sweater and she was decked out in Kings gear, and both of them were engaged and enthusiastic.

“Everyone in LA is gonna hate you now,” Bobbie said.

“No,” Bitty said. “Everyone in this stadium who actually cares about the Kings might hate me. Or everyone who isn’t you, because you need me. And there aren’t actually that many of them. I’ll take my chances.”

“Well, I know the only person here that you really care about is Jack,” Bobbie said, “Looking forward to spending time with your man?”

“It’s been weeks,” Bitty said.

Once the game was over and Bobbie was put in a car to go home, Bitty headed to the visitors’ dressing room and settled in to wait. With an off-day tomorrow, players were going through a quick post-game workout.

Jack came back and tried to pull Bitty close. Bitty accepted a kiss on the cheek, but the wrinkled his nose and pulled away.

“Shower first,” Bitty said. “Give me a minute to say hi to Tater and Marty.”

When Jack was dressed and smelling clean, they left the locker room together.

“I have to be back at the team hotel by ten,” Jack said.

“Wow, almost ten whole hours together,” Bitty said.

“And I’m all yours for dinner tomorrow,” Jack said.

When the car dropped them off, Bitty let them into his rented condo. He closed the door and pulled Jack into an embrace.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, yourself,” Jack said, and leaned down and kissed him. “Tired?”

“Probably not as much as you,” Bitty said.

“Believe me, there are things I’d much rather do than sleep right now,” Jack said.

*************************

Bitty crawled out of bed and left Jack to sleep. They were a month and half into the season, and Jack needed all the rest he could get, especially after they’d stayed up late, getting reacquainted with one another’s bodies last night.

He scrambled some egg whites, adding a yolk for flavor and color, diced red and orange peppers and trimmed the stems off spinach. He had a loaf of homemade whole wheat bread sliced for toast and coffee brewing (for him) and decaf tea for Jack, who had gone caffeine-free last year after Bitty moved to California.

The Jack followed the aroma of the coffee into the kitchen.

“That still smells so good,” he said, taking the mug of tea Bitty handed him. “One sip?”

“It already has cream and sugar,” Bitty said.

“One sip,” Jack said.

Bitty handed over his own mug, then turned to cook the eggs.

Once his back was turned, he said, “Do you ever wish I hadn’t moved here?”

Jack didn’t answer right away, and Bitty sneaked a peek at him over his shoulder. Jack was staring into his mug of tea.

He looked up to meet Bitty’s eyes.

“I want to say this right,” he said. “I wish we could have this every morning.”

Bitty turned back to his eggs.

“But I don’t regret you coming here to take the job,” Jack said. “You love it, and you’re good at it, and I’d feel guilty if you gave it up to stay in Providence and just sit and wait for me to come home, especially during the season.”

“I had a job in Providence,” Bitty said.

“Not like this,” Jack said. “You’re doing what you do best, taking care of people and teaching them to take care of themselves, not just the ones on the show, but everyone who watches. I miss you, but you’re happy.”

“But I miss you too,” Bitty said. “I can’t always make it back to Providence for weeks at a time.”

“I know,” Jack said. “And I’m happy too, even though I miss you. We make time to see each other when we can – and thank the NHL scheduling gods for three days here – and it won’t be forever.”

“I know,” Bitty said. “And I do love what I’m doing, but sometimes I wonder if it was the right thing.”

“If you’re happy, it is for now,” Jack said.

They sat at the counter to eat, then Jack took the box full of treats for team. “Meet you here tonight? Then we can head over to the hotel.”

“Sure,” Bitty said. “I’ll be home by five.”

***********************

Bitty spent much of Saturday hanging around with the Falconers, guys who had become some of his best friends during his time in Providence. Once Jack settled for his pre-game nap, Bitty went to meet up with Philip and his family.

“I have a surprise for you,” Bitty said. “After the game, the whole team wants to meet you.”

“Me?” Philip said.

“You,” Bitty said. “Are you okay with that?”

“Are you kidding?!”

Jack scored the winning goal and pointed right at Bitty and Philip, making Philip jump up and down. His mothers had insisted that he wear a Falcs jersey — “You’re their guest. It’s only polite.” – but he still had a Ducks cap. Being in the Ducks’ rink, there was no recognition of the celly. That was fine by Bitty; no one knew about Philip being on the show yet.

Jack handed Philip his stick over the glass before heading down the tunnel, then Bitty and Philip scrambled to make it to the locker room corridor.

Philip was welcomed in as soon as the media were gone, with fist bumps all around.

“When B cooks for you, you will eat so well,” Tater said. “He can give skating tips, too!”

Philip left will signatures all over his jersey and Jack’s signature on his stick. Bitty waited for the team to be ready to board the bus for the airport, then pulled him aside for a brief kiss goodbye.

“You might be captain but we can fine you,” Marty called.

“I can afford it,” Jack responded, kissing Bitty again.

“See you next month?” Jack asked Bitty.

“Yes,” Bitty said. “I have a whole week off. I can’t wait.”

“Me either,” Jack said.

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #prompt fill #my fic

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 5 years

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Episode 109: Last One Out of Beach City

“What if I told you that the world was gonna end, and you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends?”

Steven and the Stevens and Hit the Diamond are my two favorite episodes of Steven Universe for reasons I’ve written about at length, but beyond encapsulating the essence of the series and characters and all that, it should be noted that they’re just plain fun. Last One Out of Beach City is smaller in scale, zeroing in on one of the show’s earliest defined relationships and basking in its evolution from a feud to a deep friendship, so it’s harder to use as a stand-in for the show as a whole. But even if it isn’t my third-favorite episode of the series, it stands hand in hand with my top two when it comes to the charm factor.

Last One Out of Beach City is a delight from start to finish. Jesse Zuke’s legendary “Bad Pearl” sketch comes to life in the best way imaginable, and Deedee Magno Hall solidifies her place as my MVP of a killer lineup of voice actors. Actual human being Mike Krol gets tossed into this alternate universe like it was nothing. Crimes are committed. Swears are censored by screeching tires. Juice is spat. Cups, spilt.

This is the promise of Zuke’n’Florido’s brilliant opening sequence of Beta fulfilled: Steven and some Gems hanging out not for half an episode, but an entire one. It’s got sight gags aplenty, supplementing some of the best comedy writing in the series, mixed with the soul-warming joy of watching characters we love getting along. So lest I just turn this review into gushing about individual jokes and lines and moments, let’s dive into why each character we see is terrific, starting with the scofflaw herself.

Last One Out of Beach City does for Pearl what Back to the Moon does for Amethyst and Mindful Education does for Garnet: we see the result of her character growth in Act II, and even if the Mystery Girl looks a lot like Rose, it’s still a huge step forward for our lady of perpetual mourning to develop a crush on someone new (and to be so low-key polite to Greg). The romantic subplot alone could drive an episode, but Pearl gets so many more hats than “girl with a crush” here: she’s a nerd, a badass, a criminal, and a middle-aged mom all at once. She vacillates between genuinely cool and desperately uncool until she fuses these extremes together to become a confident square; it’s perhaps Deedee Magno Hall’s best Pearlformance that doesn’t include singing, and that’s saying a lot. Between her voice acting, the lines themselves (“This is why we buckle up”), and the sheer sense of catharsis from seeing her choosing to move forward with her life, this is my favorite Pearl episode. And that’s saying a lot.

Pearl has always had a weird relationship with humanity. She's distant from modern culture compared to Amethyst, and her misunderstandings about human stuff is often played for laughs, but she’s also a crack car mechanic and is enamored with human concepts like knighthood. She’s not completely removed from society, but chooses not to engage unless something in particular catches her fancy. So it’s fascinating to see her associating moving forward with performing more human activities; she’s embracing Earth as it is, not as it was when the Gem War was raging, and she’s not letting lingering envy from Rose’s love of humans like Greg get in her way.

The reason this works so well is that it’s clearly performative, rather than an actual sudden personality shift. She’s still a homebody who likes puzzles and hanging out with her kid. She’s still snooty, both with her friends (dismissing the idea that anyone could be nostalgic for something as “new” as suburbs) and with her crush (“By the way, I saved your planet and your species and you're welcome”). And she’s still nervous as all get-out, but brave enough to push forward anyway.

Pearl’s maternal nature isn’t ignored, but used as fuel for her attempt at rebirth. There’s a huge difference between an awkward person putting themselves out there for the first time and a semi-retired hellraiser who, after settling into a comfortable groove, seeks to relive her glory days. She’s been dwelling on the negative for so long that she feels out of touch with her adventurous side, to the point where wearing pants and drinking juice is adventurous, but because we know Pearl so well by now we can actually appreciate how big of a deal these minor accomplishments are for her.

While it’s refreshing to see Pearl moving on from Rose, it’s perhaps even greater to see how far her relationship with Amethyst has come. While their longstanding rivalry softened during the Week of Sardonyx, we haven’t gotten them alone together since, and it just feels so nice to see Amethyst ribbing Pearl with that extra burst of sisterly affection, and Pearl loosening up enough to not take every slight personally.

As with Pearl, Amethyst works here because her personality hasn’t been erased; again, she’s still ragging on Pearl. The plot gets rolling because of Amethyst’s well-established fascination with humanity, and Pearl’s decision to see the show is prompted in part by wanting to impress Amethyst, something she never would’ve cared about in Season 1. And for all her teasing, Amethyst encourages Pearl every step of the way, not just out of solidarity but because she’s legitimately impressed.

And in a world where Pearl and Amethyst are egging each other on, Steven has to step up and be practical. I appreciate that his sense of responsibility and realism doesn’t make him a jerk or a brat, but more of a peer than ever among his fellow Crystal Gems. When pointing out the pink-haired elephant in the room, he’s not condemning or teasing Pearl: he’s just clearing the tension, and showing that he’s more aware of the situation than a younger Steven might have been. In this episode, Steven is the friend who looks for a gas station when his buds are freaking out about running out of fuel.

By now Steven feels comfortable with his place in the team, and with his relationships with Amethyst and Pearl as individuals. A version of this episode placed earlier in the series might’ve been about Pearl and Amethyst fighting for his attention, or Steven vying for attention from either of them, but by now he’s happy to do a puzzle with Pearl and to go to a concert with Amethyst, and there’s zero conflict. Immaturity shouldn’t be a go-to character beat anymore, and I love that Steven is acting his age.

Mystery Girl turns out to be more of a device than a character, as we never see her again. But I honestly think that’s fine; what matters is that Pearl is willing to put herself out there, and the result isn’t a new relationship with a new love interest but a new relationship with humanity. The Pearl of Bismuth Casual, hanging out with a posse of human friends and showing off her Gem powers with glee, owes everything to the Pearl of Last One Out of Beach City, and thus everything to Mystery Girl. Perhaps they had a thing at some point. Perhaps they still do have a thing. We don’t know, because Pearl has new hobbies outside of being a Crystal Gem, and that’s the victory.

An in terms of the show’s greater plot, if our new friend never gave Pearl her number, Pearl never would’ve gotten a phone, so A Single Pale Rose never would’ve happened. Perhaps one day he would’ve learned the truth, but certainly not before Yellow and Blue Diamond arrived to wage war on the planet. So thanks for saving the world, Mystery Girl!

The use of music from our universe lends Last One Out of Beach City a uniquely realistic tone compared to the rest of the series; perhaps any such music would do the trick, but a garage rocker is an apt choice for setting a grounded mood. We get a glimpse of Greg’s life outside of being a dad, as he socializes not only with Amethyst but Barb and Vidalia. The car chase lurches to reality when we learn that Pearl doesn’t have a driver’s license, and explicit references are made to the DMV and Pearl’s citizenship. It’s like knowing Steven’s exact age, or having Greg break his leg in Ocean Gem instead of getting a nondescript injury, or hearing Dr. Maheswaran describe PTSD using terms like “cortisol”: these concrete details make these characters feel more like real people. And considering this is a character-centric episode in a show where characters are pretty much always at the center anyway, that realism gives us a deeper connection to what our heroes are going through.

Pearl is by no means a teenager, and the critical element of reclaiming her mojo muddles direct comparisons to a teen protagonist, but the emotional honesty of Last One Out of Beach City makes me feel nostalgic, and not just for the suburbs. Driving around, not quite following the rules, and bouts of chasing meaning when you’re not as interested in traditional adolescent social activities? Those were my teenage years. I don’t always miss them, but this episode brings out the best of my memories.

There’s really not much else to say. I could spend another few paragraphs incoherently gushing about the writing and the animation and the voice work, but I promise the time you’d spend reading that would be better spent rewatching the episode. While I maintain my comparison to Beta, Last One Out of Beach City does stand in opposition to Peridot’s first Meep Morp: it has no functional purpose, it just makes me feel good.

Future Vision!

I already brought up how Mystery Girl’s number prompts A Single Pale Rose, but that episode itself shows that Pearl’s a lot slicker than she thought she was. That’s a lot of codes!

I’ve never been to this…how do you say…school?

Not sure why we get a Halloween-themed promo for an episode that has nothing to do with Halloween and aired in early September, but this is me not complaining about that. (Apparently it’s actually a reference to a Japanese tradition but I don’t watch enough anime to know more about that.)

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

It’s not my third favorite, but this episode is really high up there. The cream of the crop are episodes that give me the purest emotional reactions: Mirror Gem nails dread, Lion 3 and Alone Together embody two different kinds of wonder, and Steven and the Stevens, Hit the Diamond, and Last One Out of Beach City just make me unspeakably happy.

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

When It Rains

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

No Thanks!

5. Horror Club 4. Fusion Cuisine 3. House Guest 2. Sadie’s Song 1. Island Adventure

#last one out of beach city #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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gotatext · 5 years

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claws my way out of the dirt like the goblin i am ..... hello thots, its nora, once again bringing you a revamped version of a muse i played yonks ago n some of u may have even written against... here is her pinterest.....

this is margaret greta, she’s a whole can of trauma spaghetti plastered over with a toothy grin and a lot of dad jokes. the only reason she’s in gifford really is bcos shes been put there as part of a witness protection program cos lots of police r monitoring livingstone so its deemed relatively safe.... haha... anyway she changes major all the time. she started off doing fine art but since then she’s done modules in architecture, film, bio-chemistry and is now dabbling in medicine.

CIS-FEMALE — ever hear people say GRETA O’DRISCOLL looks a lot like DIANA SILVERS? I think SHE is about 21, so it doesn’t really work. The MEDICINE major is a SOPHOMORE that is from DEADWOOD, SOUTH DAKOTA. They can be +CHARMING, but they can also be -EVASIVE. I think GEE might be SHEEP. They are living in YATES. ( nora. 23. gmt. she/her )

this bitch is the most restless creature u ever seen. before she came to livingstone, she’d lived in 8 different cities in 3 years.

was adopted as an infant. had two foster moms and two older sisters so always surrounded by women. lived in a boarding house, very much like the one in 20th century women, with lodgers coming in and out all the time, mostly artsy young women because her gay moms were both high school teachers trying to set up their own arts collective. one of her moms left when she was 4, n she doesn’t really remember her.

while living with entirely women made her super into catlin moran and the guilty feminist, as a teenager she often let boys walk all over her bc she just craved male attention jst bcos she’d never really experienced it. saw it as something aspirational, like sitting in the back of chad’s second-hand truck while he drove you to macdonalds and offered you and his five friends with identical haircuts weed was the height of being cool to greta, she wanted to be their dream girl, even if it meant compromising her beliefs

bubbly bitch but also massive snake. metaphorically and literally, always shedding her skin. loyal to few, ruled by none, out for herself, babey!! every place she goes, she becomes a new character, someone who’s a figment of her imagination, as if each city is repertory theatre and she’s a character actress, so as a result som ppl think she’s called rita, some ppl know her as margot, she just flicks through identities like nobodies business.

goes through phases of being intensely feminist and tweeting “men are trash i don’t need them” before flipping into being lonely and needy n wanting male attention again. tends to gravitate towards men who are just pieces of shit tbh like her friends are always like hun.... pick a nice boy..... but no.... she’ll go for the boxer with several arrest records for gbh or the small-town drug dealer just trying to hook her onto pills for a little extra cash, or the reformed sinner who thinks he’s being protective by reading all her texts and always knowing where she is..... n she always finds a way to spin it so that they Just Care About Her and aren’t a p.o.s

left school at 18 n didn’t go to uni, moved in w her boyfriend of the time instead, but soon got bored, n then went backpacking around the states making money in the casinos by being a shot girl (yeehaw) and trying to make it as a mysterious 1920s widow with a smoky voice, a dark secret n a heart of gold, looking for love in the big city. all she found was producers and acting agents who’d promise her stardom n actually just fuck her in a motel n then ignore her calls.

TW domestic violence, TW gun, her watershed moment came when she met luke in sioux falls while she was playing bass for a country n blues band. he was a few years older and had a car, and they kind of went from seeing each other to being that super intense couple who are just necking all the time.

they got engaged like 3 months after they met n rented a flat together, much to her family’s annoyance but she was 19 so there wasn’t much they could do. their relationship was super super intense though, often really heightened and when they fought it could become quite violent, but she’d pass it off as just him being really passionate.

one of their fights got really heated and greta threatened him with the gun he kept in the glove box of his vauxhall corsa, but the safety was off and she accidentally shot him. she pleaded self defence in the trial n cos of the amount of times she’d been hospitalised for various concussions n things like ‘fallling down the stairs’ the police were like yea... pretty watertight evidence that he was a bastard who [chicago voice] had it coming..... also this happened in 2017, he was mixed race and greta is white so naturally the police totally took her side. she’s now under witness protection, rehoused in livingstone as a sports-scholarship student, due to the amount of police involvement in the area, it would mean should one of luke’s family members try to track her down, she’d be relatively safe

massive sports fanatic. plays tennis. on the cheer team. was a track superstar in her high school. honestly just that sporty bitch, you’ll see her doing lines at a party at half four and then on your way to your 9am lecture you see her running across the park like a fresh fucking daisy who is this bitch

pretty easy to get along with (provided you don’t anger, provoke or question her too much) because she WANTS your character to be enthralled by her and will do whatever it takes to win them over. she wants everyone to love her

is That Girl who always knows where the parties are, and is always there, on the sofa, talking about institutionalised racism and trying to coerce you into a game of beer pong that she’ll definitely win. doesn’t really have one solid group of friends, just kind of on good terms with everyone and social butterflies about

has changed her major so many times. decision? who is she. currently studying medicine, but doesn’t rlly enjoy it. she’s very unmotivated and lazy and probably wouldn’t ahve bothered going to uni if she hadn’t been placed in one by a witness protection program. will probably change on to history or gender studies soon n just make up the extra credits by volunteering

massive feminist. low key quite scared of powerful men bcos of her ex. wants to start a female only lesbian commune bc she misses her childhood in a south dakota boarding house and has endless support for women. honestly annoyed that she is attracted to men, would so be 100% gay if it was a choice. cuffs her jeans and can’t drive. is That bisexual. skateboards. wears backwards caps. i hate her

plays bass guitar, has a teal green fender and it is her BABY. it’s covered in stickers about saving the planet and ending fracking and going vegan. she’s in an all-female punk band w agnes (n mayb jade i think) n they play gigs every now n then in grotty club basements full of druggy sweaty college kids

PERSONALITY: easy-going, sociable, observant, blunt, amiable, nihilistic, self-serving, laid back, independent, unmotivated, charming, lazy, impulsive, alluring. ESTP and a leo

LIKES: art, music, john wayne movies, black mirror, philosophy, cowboy chic culture, DC comics, arcade games, candyfloss, deep red lipstick, marijuana, dogs, karaoke, Kate Moss, late-night strolls, zip-lining, chemistry, suspenders, cigarettes, herbal tea, gallows humour, cold coffee, long showers, brown eyes, tchaikovsky, dr. seuss, boiler house DJ sets, magnolias, decorative lamps, worn-out furniture, twangy electric guitars.

DISLIKES: bananas, coffee, Woody Allen, mental mathematics, children, Trump, institutionalised misogyny, the imaginary future, french literature, Wes Anderson films, spoken word poetry, the general mentality of cheerleading squads (despite being on one)

aesthetics:

a bubble of pink gum on chapped lips, mom jeans, a beaten up pair of adidas, denim jackets, strawberry laces, knee-highs, chapped lips, peeling sticky plasters, split knuckles, bruises you try to cover with concealer, stick and poke tattoos, hot coffee, sleep caught in your eyes on a lazy afternoon, kissing girls, cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, leonine arch of your back and that stellar smile that says ‘you have no idea who you’re dealing with’, a rucksack permanently packed for the move, a streak of red across your lips, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your mom wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, his name scrawled in rage across the pages of a diary, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

wanted plots: since greta literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships, and girls from the cheer team who she’s like, weirdly intimate with like the shower together but its not a Thing cos the other girls straight, and I want like, fellow medicine students who are like?? how is this bitch still passing?? i swear she goes out every night?? she works part time at a fast food restaurant, i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry. ppl she did a few modules with before changing course and somehow sort of remaining in touch with, like she did a few art modules, a bit of film, n some architecture before switching to medicine, though she’ll probs switch course again soon. ppl who she runs track with. someone she’s trying to make a zine with. here’s a list of plots on her old blog if u want any of them w her.

would love plots of any type, throw them all at me please, i cnt wait to interact w all of u. like this if u want me to message you about connections / plots! xo

full biography if u can be bothered

trigger warnings: drugs, domestic abuse, gun.

you never meant for it to happen. you’d heard the stories, of girls who let their man walk all over them, and thought to yourself “i’ll never be one of those girls…” the kind that eat low-fat yoghurt and drink slim fast to shred a few extra pounds because he said she was getting round in the tummy, or the ones who spent their evenings tied to a kitchen sink drinking wine while him and the boys played poker, wishing god, if only I could get out of here. not you, not you raised by strong women, four bright shining beacons. single mother with her hard-as-nails attitude and her stony glares, elder sisters (twins) one ginger, one blonde, one doctor, one lawyer, both determined to take a bullet to the brain and a hammer to the patriarchy before they let a man touch them without asking. you were always so inferior, so insecure and small, like a bird (like a sparrow) with blonde plaits down your back sucking tropicana whilst your busom buds sucked dick, their lips permanently ripe with stories of their sexual exploits, fake tan and glittered nails whilst you sat in the unbroken egg of virginity wondering what it was like to be loved. one day you found out.

lily milligan’s parents gone and a free house for the night, bottles of ouzo and tequila swiped from your mother’s liquor cabinet thinking she wouldn’t know (she always knew) your legs, hardened from pep squad, slut dropping on a kitchen table because the boys thought it would be fun to get the quiet girl drunk. you’d never had a sip before that night. band t-shirts, denim shorts and the split soles of rotten converse that you refuse to let go of, you still clutched with both hands to your youth, but in a tube top now (borrowed from alice carmichael who had a sister in college) and a short tennis skirt, your feet not in trainers but in thigh-high boots. uncomfy as hell but lily said you needed to look sexy. you didn’t know if you wanted to be sexy. you didn’t know what kind of girl you were, if you were even a girl at all. but robbie looked at you like he knew exactly who you were, like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and his lips had the pink cupid’s bow of a movie star, and his hair was dark locks, curling like a mane. his hands were soft, and suddenly on your waist, and after three more shots his lips were on yours and his name was the only sound in your head and on your lips as you lost it in lily’s college sister’s bedroom beneath the glare of a T-Pain poster. you bled for what seemed like hours, his hand still in yours, kissing on the sofa as truth tellers and dare devils continued to spin a bottle of unprecedented youth. you thought it was love. robbie was the one. he loved you, you knew it, how else could someone be so soft? but soon he grew bored, scrunched up your paper heart and set it alight. then came the tears, the hatred, the ‘fuck robbie, in fact, fuck all boys.’ and that you did.

you were known for being easy. any boy could be yours for a night, as long as he promised to love you for those few short breaths and pants before you cried yourself to sleep. you felt poisoned, but poisonous as well, as if by ensnaring these young boys you were gaining power over them, and not the other way around. soon it started to work. they’d want more, but you’d deny them it, sick of sucking off silly schoolboys, they’d call you a tease, a vixen. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help but want older men. you got the history teacher first time, him bending you over his desk to sneak a hand up your tennis skirt as the after-school clubs carried on next door, unawares. love didn’t exist, not for you. it was nothing but a game for pretty young girls to play, bubble gum in their canines and a hand tugging at the hem of their cheer skirt.

there was so much anger inside of your small body, ‘beware of boys and their hook-like words’. hockey helped. there was something formidable about the feeling of a stick like a weapon in your hands and the thwack it made against thighs in the heat of a scrum - “slipped, sorry!” - you’d utter with a snakeskin smile, millicent quinn knowing that you’d hit her on purpose because she shagged robbie at that party last week. she couldn’t prove it, cobbled acne on her forehead turning green with disgust. ben came into your life like a car crash. two years your senior, with a baseball jacket and shoulders like a god. he became your personal hero. on the pitch, he was lethal. together, you could bring anyone to their ruin. each day after last period he’d be waiting in his car. you’d leap into his arms like a girl-half starved, love me, love me, love me, your heated kisses the envy of every junior girl. he was yours for three blissful years, utterly yours, and you were his, his star-spangled girl, and he was your knight - you were both the same, playing games, always difficult to predict. it was a shock to all when he proposed, high-school sweethearts find love in south dakota.

the engagement was a bittersweet affair; three months – you barely out of your gingham print skirts and into a graduation gown, him, a surly quarterback towering above your sisters, cigarette at his lips and a scowl like a fart in a lift. they hated him. so did you. but you were eighteen and in love, and he fitted the cookie cutter mould. everyone wanted him, and you had him. you had him and you were happy, happy, happy, and he loved you. he said he’d give you the world, anything you wanted hand-picked and given to you. instead, he gave you a jack russell terrier and a flat you couldn’t swing a cat in, wallpaper peeling like the rotten bits inside of you, the bits that only he knew. and you got tireder and tireder of the sad excuse of a life he’d picked out for you, him out doing god knows what to pay the bills, and you dancing on tables to pave your way to stardom, and this was love, this was real, until the shine wore off and your fresh-faced, dimple-cheeked cheerleader facade faded and the ugliness started to reveal itself, the whining, the petulance, the sharp-tempered cruelty, the mind games, the need to always win, win, win. he was dull, he was boring, he was nothing like the boy the girls had said he was and no chiselled six pack could hide his lack of anything remotely interesting, your patience wearing thin until it snapped like rubber, a rucksack on your back, running shoes on your feet and the joint bank account emptied into your eighth grade birthday wallet.

you built your small fortunes working the casinos of sioux falls, a crimson dress and an attitude to match. bookish archie with his little dipper freckles was fun for a month, before he became just as dull and dreary as the rest. a three hour bus and you were in minneapolis, bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh meat ready for the pickings. a hostel here, a friendly co-worker’s sofa there as you made what you could by taking off your clothes and shaking your ass like you were back in pep squad, doing what you did best. you met your fair share of creeps, and soon it was back on the road to escape a wide-eyed stalker and a restless itch for more. milwaukee, chicago, you made the roads your own. log cabins and lodgings, and the occasional motel, a beaten up pick up truck purchased at a scrap merchants – you got a few miles out of it before it bit the dust, and when you finally set it alight after nights spent lounging across the driver’s seat, a parka tucked over you as a duvet, you were sad to see it go. you’re nomadic by fault, never attaching to place, people or things, creating a new personality in every place you go like a character actress; each town is a different repertory theatre, and you’re the star. a compulsive liar, you even fib about your own name, to some you’re ellen, nineteen, bookish, a law student who likes smoking and cosmos. to someone else you’re rita, you’re twenty five and look young for your age, like smoking, comics and fucking in public places.

in the bright lights of michigan, you found charlie, sweet charlie, too good for you, though you let him spoil you while he thought you were the small town girl of his dreams. next came abigail, who was fun until the jealously kicked in, and then luke, gorgeous luke, dangerous, exciting, who despite his temper, despite the fights, despite bruises down your spine and your teeth marks on his arms, loved you with the strength of a wild fire. there was destruction in your wishbones, a savageness from the field, from the pitch and now somehow in his arms, you were godly. he was cruel, he was careless, and he refused to fall at your feet like so many other boys had, which only you made you want him all the more. you were rage incarnate. you hated him so fiercely you thought you might kill him, so he played the only card you wouldn’t predict; proposed.

the house you shared was a backstreet flat in detroit, you making your name as a downtown singer while he footed the bill with pills. they had a drug for anything these days, to dull the senses, to pick them up, to drive you to insanity or pull you out of the madness hole. the two of you lived like criminals on the run (you never told him that you were, living out your days as the enigma he wanted you to be), you with your voice like caramel and fishnet legs. you were his and his alone until his hand was at your throat and the gun was in your hands screaming at him to stop, stop, stop, until a bullet stoppered his brain, crimson staining linoleum as you cast yourself out like lucifer. self defence was decreed the moment they saw your violet neck, black tears and headlight eyes and mind screaming red, red, red like the pom-poms you shook so willingly in school and the insides of his skull. you were gone, and “you” was born, renamed “greta”, boxed, shipped-out, and next-day delivered to livingstone where under witness protection you were a student, blank slate, fresh-faced in a place where no one knew your name, doing what you always did and starting again.

#livingintro #this is such a long boi....... waht the fuck.... u dont need to read the bio the summary notes are long enough fuking hell

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nookishposts · 5 years

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What do we say?

Last evening I was privy to a conversation among comfortable friends who agreed that as we have explored the years north of age 50, some things become easier. Like saying “No thanks” to an invitation without a sense of obligation, justification, or apology. I am paraphrasing one of those friends who said:” I only have so much energy and I am careful how I spend it.” She’s nailed it. We can still do most of what we have always done, but now we build in recovery time; not just physically but emotionally and even spiritually. Most of us in the age 55-60 range will admit that we feel we’ve earned the privilege of making choices with more self-interest than we once might have. There is a great strength and a knowing comfort in having acknowledged this age and stage of self-awareness, the newer self-appreciation that allows us to quietly disengage.

Saying no isn’t limited to social engagements either; it also applies to a lack of interest, favours that come with strings attached, and most bullshit in general.It doesn’t mean we become unkind, we still find patience with one another’s fanciful whims and will step up in support whenever we are genuinely needed. We listen to one another’s secret fears and nod knowingly in authentic solidarity without the need to “fix” anything. We laugh outright at one another’s nonsense in a way that only friends can...gentle admonishments served with a heapin’ helpin’ of “ I love you you big turkey!”

Saying “No” comfortably marks a kind of rite of passage. I wonder then if the same is true of saying “Yes” ? Our self-definitions and our needs naturally alter over time: “I am a parent”,��“I am a daughter”, “I am a spouse”, “I am (insert any culture, hobby, profession or livelihood here)”: “I am this sum of many parts.” “I am a work in progress.”

We not only say “yes” to saying “No”, we also are saying yes to time for ourselves, both recovery and self-indulgence. We say yes to travelling places we haven’t been before because there was no room for that opportunity while we were busy raising ourselves and others and all that entails. We say yes without guilt to asking for things for ourselves: “Honey I really need a couple of hours of downtime/a weekend away with the girls/ something to drive other than a Soccer Mom van. I’ll see you when I get back.” We need the people in our lives to acknowledge that we are still growing, still testing our limits, still curious and are finally taking time to play with all of that because we can.

My Beloved and I have undergone a journey over the last 18 months or so of figuring out what things that together or separately we are saying no and yes to. It has been in the hunt for a different kind of life, a quieter and simpler one, that we have discovered so much about what we don’t need anymore as well as those things that could be deal-breakers. We have said a resounding “yes” to purging our closets and our habits, sometimes because they are outworn and sometimes, to make room for new growth. A successful yard sale is one that means nothing you took out gets to come back in the house; if it doesn’t sell it gets donated, etc, which can feel like losing 200 pounds of ballast. We put half our stuff into storage in order to show and sell our home and we were amazed at how much lighter both we and the house itself felt. It was a bit unnerving at first to not have stacks of books on every shelf, momentos everywhere, and a chair in every corner, but boy, did it bring a lot of light into our spaces, both literal and figurative. We each had the opportunity to go through “stuff” and decide what was truly worth keeping. It opened our attitudes a little wider in terms of where we might like to find ourselves next. We dearly love our families and community but do we really need to stay in the city in order to keep them? We love the work that we do, but do we really need to keep doing it full-time when there are other interests that tempt our attention ?

Leaving a job to devote my full energies to painting and clearing an entire house was both wonderful and not, because it took away part of my self-definition. In conversation people invariably ask: “and what do you do for a living?” Right now, I don’t. And that’s all kinds of weird. I write in my spare time, but I don’t make a living at it so I can’t really call myself a Writer. My massage table is packed away into storage with most of our belongings because we thought we would have a new destination secured by now, so I am not a practitioner either. My Beloved is happy to have me doing all the background stuff while she luckily earns enough to keep us both, benefits and all. But right now we aren’t at “home” in the traditional sense. We define ourselves and our choices often by the company we keep, the employment we have and the place we live. When one or more of those key things become ambiguous, it presents a quandary about exactly what and even when to say yes or no. We have found ourselves fine-tuning the definition of what “home” means exactly.

Over 11 years we’ve talked about living much more simply and harmoniously with the land around us; producing most of what we consume, using the energies of our minds and bodies, hopefully staying healthy and independent within our means for as long as possible. 10 years ago, we were all prepared to reclaim a brown-space and build ourselves a green-run straw-bale cottage. We took courses, helped heave and plaster bales on other people’s builds and constantly modified our designs. As we got older, we looked into adaptive technologies; maybe taking an old building and greening it to be more efficient and sustainable; lower cost, less waste. We compared design/build features, studied geographic land values and took a hard look at our resources weighed against our respective ages and abilities. In the past 18 months we have looked seriously at several different options along the spectrum and missed out on several of them because they were contingent on the sale of our own little city house. But really, they haven’t turned out to be losses so much as lessons. Each place offered a different set of possibilities, and we know that between us, we can make almost anything work as long as the structural bones are good and the soil is clean. We’ve said “Yes” several different times. But the Universe seems to say “No, not yet”, even though each successive option brought us closer to our ideals.Once our city house finally sold, we quickly said “yes”, and changed it to a “no”; it the first place that came along and we were impatient to move on. We certainly could have made it work, but there were hidden costs we decided we could not say yes to without sacrificing part of what we’d learned we truly need. Most recently, we found a property we thought ticked the greatest number of boxes yet on our yes/no list, but one more time, it was not meant to be. Someone else got there first. We’ve come so close, a couple of times, only to find ourselves back again, still searching. There have been moments when it all feels quite personal though we know that it’s not. We know the pieces are bound to come together but the patience is hard.

At ages 58 and 53, we are blessed to have the luxury of saying yes or no. We are technically without a home though we have been made very welcome and comfortable at a friend’s house for as long as we need one. We have politely said “no” to people who’ve suggested we are crazy and should just let go of the dream. We have said “yes” to every creative idea presented to us, no matter how outlandish or daunting they might sound, because we have many loved ones who genuinely want to see us have a crack at making magic, and who very much want to come along for the ride. We’ve never felt like we were doing any of this in isolation. Our cheerleaders are just getting louder. The most resounding “yes” always comes from our own contemporaries who are also giving themselves permission to stretch and learn and say “yes” to their own dreams.

And while we continue our search, there are so many things to always say “yes” to: the company of old friends, the laughter of “I knew you when” and the communal dissecting of ourselves as 50-somethings who know damned well we are a long way from done. To the decent wines, and using the good china, to the shredding of old hurts and the letting go of mouldy baggage sitting too long in the back of the cupboard. We finally have the courage to bring the shadowy bits into the light and watch them dissolve as so much night mist, because that’s how unsubstantial they have become. We give away things we once treasured to someone we know will discover new joy in them. We make space to expand our perspective as we fine-tune our focus. We adjust our sails, knowing that the wind will change again anyway.

There is such beauty and such hope in the luscious and judicious use of the words “yes” and “no”. Say yes to tears of loss and longing, then dry them with another “yes” of new people and experiences. Say “no” to the obligation of events you don’t want to attend and “yes” to the ones you’ve always been curious about. Contradict yourself now and then, it certainly is humbling to get caught in your own clumsiness and have to regain your footing. “Oops” , and “oh well” also come in handy. We all fall. We get up, usually with a little help , and we just get on with it. Yes, yes we do.

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beepbeeprichiellc · 6 years

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31. With Reddie

31. “Are you jealous?”

It was hot, way to fucking hot to be anywhere but inside and yet here they were, seven friends lounging at a public pool with the rest of the town of Derry. Eddie had protested against it vigorously, listing off the endless bacteria that cultures in public pools, that’s not including the ones that come for the feces and urine that originated from the children. In the end, he had been vetoed-like usual-and brushed off. He refused to get into the water, and did nothing but apply sunscreen to himself and the others. Seething hatred and annoyance wasn’t what he had planned on doing today but then again he also didn’t plan on burning like bacon on top of an oven.

“Don’t you think you are being a little over dramatic?” Beverly asked from her spot beside him, dressed in a two piece bikini while the sun cooked her back. She called it tanning, he called it skin cancer. “I mean it’s just a pool for god sake.”

Eddie snorted, turning his nose up in disgust. “I do not, thank you very much! When everyone gets a infection I’ll be there to shove it into their face.”

“Whatever.” She muttered, rolling over onto her back and leaning upward onto her elbows. “Wallow in your self righteousness than. I like the company anyways.”

“You know Ben would be more than happy to keep you company.” Eddie pointed out, smugly smiling down to his friend. “I can move if you want-”

“EDS!” A loud voice called from across the poole, grabbing his attention. There, standing on the edge of the high dive waving his hands like a huge dork. “EDS! WATCH ME!” People were staring, glancing between the two boys with curious eyes. Eddie could feel his face fluster from all of the attention. “WATCH ME THIS!”

“Right, please tease me while Richie is over there begging for your attention.” Beverly mused, laughing at the irony. “Do you want me to move?”

Eddie tried his best to ignore here, all the while watching the trashmouth jump from the edge, attempting to do a flip and ending up belly flopping. The sound was horrendous but the smile that Richie wore afterwards was worth the embarrassment that it earned him. Maybe he did have a small thing for his best friend, what was the harm in that?

The sun was lowering and people were heading out, the scorching sun finally saying goodbye to another summer day and closing the waste of the day. Most of the Losers were gathering their things, talking among themselves about the “fun” day they had. Eddie was already ready two hours ago, having felt left out once Beverly decided to jump into the chilly water. “Hey,” Mike muttered, looking around from friend to friend. “Where’s Richie?”

Eddie’s head immediately shot up, looking around the pool for their missing friend. He found him, across the way, leaning against the chain link fence with a tall blonde lifeguard. They were standing close, too close if you asked Eddie, smiles curling at the corner of their lips. There was a sudden ache in Eddie’s chest, watching as they spoke quietly and leaned into one another while he stood like an idiot with the others. There was a laugh among the group, and Stan’s sharp voice stating, “Look at that, only trashmouth could get into the lifeguards pants.”

Swallowing, Eddie dropped his gaze, biting his lip and shaking his head. Beverly was beside him, sliding her hand atop of his shoulder in a gesture of kindness but it burned him, like so many other times this exact thing had happened. He brushed her off, grabbing his bag and walking away from his friends in a huff. Someone called after him, but it was lost along the way.

Cursing he jumped into the cab of Bill’s truck, the gnawing in his gut making him want to vomit on the dash. When the others finally walked out Richie took one look at him sitting in the car and beelined to him. Eddie kept his face forward, not even looking over to his friend that pressed his body against the door. “Hey Eddie Spaghetti, you are in the wrong car. You rode with me remember?”

“Bill’s going to take me home.” He snapped back, nodding to their leader who didn’t even argue as he shoved his key into the engine. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What?” Richie asked, half chuckling. “But I always take you home.” Eddie only shrugged, slightly adjusting his body so that his back was turned. “Haha, very funny. Come on, I’ll stop at that ice cream place you like so much.” He tried to open to door, pulling on the handle but failing due to the lock. “Eddie?” He asked softly, looking up him with magnified eyes. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“Drive.” Eddie grumbled over to Bill, not bothering to answer the trashmouth. Bill tilted his head, wavering for a moment. “Come on, if I’m late my Mom won’t let me go to the Aladin tomorrow.”

“Sorry Rich.” Bill muttered, putting the gear into reverse and pulling from the curb, shooting the trashmouth a sympathetic look. Richie stood there as they drove away, shoulders slumped and and sadden eyes. It took all Eddie had not to tell Bill to stop so that he could give in, wanting nothing more than to console his best friend.

But they drove on, leaving the pool behind in their dust. It was silent, other than a soft tune coming from the radio. Eddie knew he could speak at any moment and Bill would engage but he didn’t want to, not right now. That was the best thing about their leader, he knew when to stay quiet and when to speak. Derry flew by, and soon they were in the middle of town right by the ice cream shop that Richie had mentioned. Eddie felt a pull in his chest, a want that he tried to ignore.

They rolled to a stop light, and Bill shifted his weight. “Hey Eds?”

“Yeah?”

"Are you jealous?”

Eddie glared over to his friend, “Jealous? Of you and Audra? Why would I be, I think she is great! A real good fit or you, and she obviously likes you too.”

“No.” Bill shook his head, “Are you jealous of Richie?”

This nearly made the short boy choke, his face reddening. “Why because he got that girl to talk to him? I didn’t even think she was attractive, so not my type and-”

“Are you jealous because Richie was talking to her.” Bill corrected, giving Eddie a knowing look. “I know you don’t like girls, we’ve been friends for thirteen years. I know you aren’t out, and that’s fine, but I know you’re gay.”

Eddie deflated entirely, melting into the cheap cloth. Maybe he wasn’t as subtle as he had thought, He felt so vulnerable, sitting there bare and exposed for all to see. Rubbing the bridge of his nose he had to ask, “Do the others-”

“No.” Bill finished, shaking his head. “They don’t know. Well, I think Beverly does but that’s it.” Eddie wanted to cry, and his friend must have picked up on this because he added, “We don’t care Eddie. If you’re happy, we happy. We love you no matter who you love.”

“You don’t know that.” Eddie whispered.

“I know Richie likes you, as in likes you more than a friend.” Bill answered softly, pressing the gas as the light turned green. Eddie snorted, “Everyone sees the way he looks at you, the way he goes out of his way to make you happy. He likes you too Eddie, it’s so obvious.”

“If it’s so obvious then why did he nearly shove his tongue down that girls throat?” He shot back, growling under his breath. “This conversation is pointless, he doesn’t care about me or like me or whatever. He’s only after one thing and I don’t have that one thing.”

“Eddie, that isn’t-”

“Whatever.” He cut harshly, looking back out the window as they pulled into his neighborhood. “I don’t care.” But they both knew he did, oh god did he care.

Bill pulled into his driveway, parking it. Without another word Eddie grabbed his things and opened to door, hopping down onto the pavement. Before shutting the door Bill called out to him one last time. “Give him a break okay? Richie is smart but he can be real dumb sometimes. He doesn’t know how to act around you, and can forget his feelings unlike you but he does like you and he does care. I’d bet my life on it.”

Eddie bit his lip and shut the door, muttering a quick thank you. The walk up to his door was agonizing, Bill’s truck squeaking loudly along the way. With a deep breath he went inside, cringing as his mother called him over to her, fawning over the slight redness to his skin.

Maybe Bill was right, maybe he was being too harsh.

Weather the rest was right or not, weather Richie really did like him, he didn’t know. Things were complicated between them and they were probably always going to be this way. It was the painful truth, so painful that he pushed it as far back as he could for the rest of the afternoon and when the familiar knock came at his window he didn’t even give it a second thought.

Richie tumbled in awkwardly, falling onto the floor with a thud. He looked up with a broken smile, his eyes sorrowful and so welcoming that Eddie could drown in the deep blue pools. With an eye roll, Eddie walked away from the mess and sat on his bed, waiting for the ramble to start.

And start it did because when Richie was nervous he did what he did best, talk. “Hey, yeah…hi. Thanks for letting me in, it’s still hot outside can you believe it? Fucking summer man, it sucks ass…well better than being in school…man are can you believe we are going to be seniors this year? Well I guess you can because you are…..well smart and I’m….awkward so yeah senior year! You excited? I am….kinda scared but excited and-”

“Beep beep Richie..” Eddie said, rubbing his temples and laughing.

Richie’s eyes sparkled, “Yeah, beep beep me.” Slowly and gently he sat down beside his friend, leaving a small space between them. It was silent for a moment and then, “Are we okay?” The trashmouth whispered, so softly that it was almost nonexistent.

Eddie wanted to say so many things, to pour his heart out onto his bedroom floor and throw himself at his best friend but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Not now. Not when their entire relationship was on the line. He could lose so many things, but Richie it seemed, was not one of them. So he answered honestly, nudging Richie’s shoulder in the friendlies way possible, giving nothing up.

“Yeah, we are okay.”

#reddie #it #it au #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #prompt #prompt me baby

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