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ayma-nidiot · 3 years

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“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fanfic Epilogue

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Epilogue - The Evergreen Greenhouse

~29 December 2007~

Even throughout his almost-over undergrad career - which involved a lot of trips to archaeological sites with Spinos - Rex still found the time to duel. As a matter of fact, he proudly approached the front door of his off-campus apartment with a trophy he just won from a local tournament - and against his father, no less.

“Weeves!” Rex called out. “I just won the tournament! Since we both just turned 21, why don’t we go celebrate with drinks?”

The first one to answer him was not his husband, but rather his 2-year-old daughter. “Papa!”

“Amber!” Rex picked Amber up and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “How ya’ doing, big girl?”

Indeed, Amber was a big girl; though she just turned two years old, she already showed signs of being gifted. She could already speak in complete sentences, count to 100, and recite the alphabet pretty well. Still, she loved many of the same things that typical toddlers did - not the least of which was her mother. “I’m feeling awesome! But… But…”

“You okay?”

“Someone’s not feeling so awesome… It’s Daddy.”

“Why, what’s wrong with him?” Rex put Amber down, and allowed her to lead him to the loo. He was not at all pleased to see Weevil there, praying to the porcelain goddess. “Gods, Weevil! What’s wrong?”

“Ugh…” Weevil gave Rex a pained look before throwing up into the loo again.

“Daddy’s been like this aaaaall morning.” Amber sounded like she was about to cry. “What should we do, Papa?”

It was then that Rex had just remembered Weevil drizzling a ton of chocolate syrup over his fried bee larvae a few weeks ago. At first, he thought that Weevil was just being a buttmunch as usual. But then Rex recalled the cravings he had during his pregnancy - and the speech his college doctor gave him, the one that all male shapeshifters were capable of getting pregnant. “It… It can’t be…”

“Papa?” Amber looked at her mother quizzically.

“Amber, get my phone. I’m gonna call the doctor and get Daddy there right away.”

After his wave of nausea finally abated, and Rex had made that call, Weevil put the toilet cover back on and pouted at his husband. “Rex, honey, come on. You don’t have to go that far. Just give me some Pepto-Bismol, and I’ll be fine.”

“Throwing up for an entire morning is totally not fine.” Rex picked Weevil up princess-style and put him in the middle of the 2006 Mazda 5 with Amber. “And you’re about to see that.”

________

~A quick drive and 30 minutes later~

“So… So, what did you find, Doctor?” Weevil asked Dr. Balls.

“After performing the ultrasound, we’ve discovered that you’re pregnant, Mr. Raptor. Eleven weeks, to be exact.”

“Aww, how sweet…” Rex smiled as he stroked Weevil’s belly.

“Anyway, I do not anticipate that you will need hospitalization, just some light bed rest for now. I’ll prescribe some antiemetics, though. You are more than welcome to visit should you feel the need to do so.”

“I… I see. Thank you, Doctor.” After Dr. Balls left, Weevil turned to glare at his husband. “Why didn’t you tell me that I’m capable of getting pregnant, dino brain?”

“Yeah, about that…” Rex scratched his nose. “When I first visited this doctor, he told me that all male shapeshifters are intersex. But they each have their own unique heat cycles, depending on what they can change into. Yours just aren’t as frequent as mine.”

“...Humph.”

“I’m sorry, Weeves, are you mad? You still want to keep the baby, don’t you?”

“Oh, I’ll keep the baby, all right. But you better treat me to bee larvae whenever I ask for it.”

“Yay!” Amber gave her father a happy hug. “I’m going to be a big sister!”

“Indeed you are,” spoke a middle-aged woman in scrubs, who had just entered the room.

“What? Mother?” Weevil didn’t expect to see Camellia come out of nowhere. “What are you doing here?”

“Grandma!” Amber ran to Camellia to give her a hug too.

“I’m just getting some shadowing hours, that’s all,” Camellia spoke as she hugged her granddaughter back. “After seeing what Rex went through during his pregnancy, I’ve decided that I want to become an obstetrician.”

“That’s great! Congratulations!”

Rex’s smile turned upside down when Camellia turned on the T.V., and the first thing that came on was a replay of Weevil’s now-infamous regionals victory.

“It’s hard to believe that Rex Raptor used to lose so much back in the day,” one of the Duel Monster Channel’s announcers spoke over a still of Rex’s face in defeat. “But now that he’s won a championship against Spinos Saurus, I think he’ll reach his former fame once again.”

“Oooh!” Amber had never seen this duel of her parents in their teen years. “Is that you, Papa?”

Rex facepalmed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s your Papa, all right.”

“So have you learned to use strategy since then, dino brain?”

“Nah. Strategies are for dweebs and bug boys.” Rex held tightly onto Weevil’s hand. “And I’m so proud to be married to a man who’s both of them.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

The doctor interrupted this conversation, coming in with a few papers. “Okay, Mr. Raptor, here are your antiemetic prescriptions. I’m also going to schedule your 20-week ultrasound. As you know, not only will we be able to search for abnormalities, but we can also determine the sex of your baby.”

Weevil had just recalled what Phuckdis said right when future Amber was “supposed” to kill the bug duelist. “Oh, there won’t be a need for that second one. I already know that I’m carrying a boy.”

“You… You sure?” Camellia asked.

“I’m willing to bet my deck on it.”

“Then how are you supposed to beat me, bug boy?” spoke a voice from the adjacent hospital bed.

“Whoa!” Rex turned around to see Mai laying on that bed, with Joey by her side. “Again with the coincidental meetings, Joey?”

“Great, just the person I wanted to see…” Weevil felt another wave of nausea about to hit him, and clutched his gut tighter.

“Hey!” Amber ran over to Joey. “Now look what you did to Daddy!”

“Ehehehe…” Joey waved a nervous hand. “Hey.”

“...I know you! You’re that big meanie who took Papa’s Red-Eyes Black Dragon and Daddy’s Insect Queen, aren’t you?”

“Amber!”

Amber ignored her mother. “Someday, I’m going to beat you and get them back! You’ll see!” She stuck her tongue out at Joey. “You big buttmunch!”

“Okay, Amber, that’s enough,” Rex laughed as he picked up his daughter.

“I suppose our rivalry never really will die, will it?” Joey laughed back, then turned to talk to Amber. “Amber, you’re a very smart kid. I’d love to duel you someday.”

“...” Amber only pouted in response. “Okay, but you’re going to be bug juice.”

Weevil smiled, as he always did when his daughter used catch phrases from both of her parents. “So what brings you here, Joey?”

“Well…” Mai sat upright. “I’m almost done with my degree, and I moved to this university for the upper-level courses. I started feeling sick on my way to class today, so Joey escorted me to the clinic. And… it turns out I’m pregnant. With triplets, if I might add.”

“And if you couldn’t tell, I’m the dad!” Joey proclaimed proudly.

“Of course, this idiot got the whole ‘marry first, have kids later’ thing backwards.” Mai rolled her eyes. “He only got the courage to propose to me yesterday.”

“Touché,” replied Weevil.

“Soooo.” Rex waggled his eyebrows at Joey. “Looks like Weeves and I weren’t the only ones busy making babies on my wedding night.”

“Hehehehe...” Joey chuckled nervously. “And what a coincidence that Mai and Weevil will probably give birth on the same day.”

“Then maybe you should be the ‘godparents’ of our son.” Weevil was only half-joking.

“You know what I think would be cool?” Rex stepped forward and started making grand gestures. “If we had one bed over here and another one over here. Weeves and Mai can be in the same delivery room. That way, we can all witness each other’s kids’ births.”

“I’m down for that!” Mai appeared to agree with Joey.

“I dunno…” Weevil’s eyebrow twitched when he looked at Joey. “Not sure I want to be anywhere near this sasquatch when I experience the most awful pain of my life.”

“Actually, that can be arranged,” Dr. Balls cut in. “It’s more common than you think for friends or their spouses to give birth together.”

“Good to know.” Weevil groaned slightly as he got out of bed. “Well, I’ve got a final paper to write for biochemistry, so if you’ll excuse me.”

“Weeves, take it easy!” Rex helped Weevil out of the bed until he was confident he could walk on his own. “It would suck if you threw up all over your expensive laptop - or all over this floor - now wouldn’t it?”

“So I’ll see you again in nine weeks?” Dr. Balls patted Weevil on the shoulder, giving him the ultrasound pictures on his way out.

“You bet.”

“Fantastic. Now, no dueling or other strenuous activities until your second trimester, understood?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Weevil bowed on his way to the nearby pharmacy, giving a congratulations nod to Joey and Mai. He didn’t feel nauseated at the moment, but still felt muscle soreness from his morning sickness bout. While waiting for his antiemetic medications to be made, he rubbed his belly, speaking to the unborn child in there. “So help me Ra, if I ruin my entire semester’s work because of you, you’ll be sorry.”

“That’s not very nice!” Rex used a much more caring tone with their future child, patting Weevil’s belly at the same time. “Don’t listen to your mom; he’s just cranky. Final exams and all that.”

“It’s weird how I’m the mom this time around… So, we can get each other pregnant.” Even with his antiemetics now in hand, Weevil didn’t yet feel like getting up from the pharmacy’s small sofa.

“Hey, Weevil?”

“Yeah, Rex?”

“Wouldn’t it be cool if we could, like, get each other pregnant at the same time?”

“Hahaha!” Weevil refrained from laughing too loudly, out of fear of exacerbating his morning sickness again. But now he felt like getting up, and held Amber by the hand. “Yeah, right. The stars would have to align perfectly for us to be in heat at the exact same time. Oh, and Rex?”

“Yeah, Weevil?”

“You owe me ¥2000 if the child I’m carrying is a boy.”

“Naw, that’s no good. You’ll owe me ¥3000 if it’s a girl.”

“Then it’s on!”

___________

~02 March 2007, 11:00~

“Hmm!” Dr. Balls looked closer at the 2D. “Well, Mr. Raptor, I’ll be. You guessed right; you are carrying your first son. And he’s a perfectly healthy lad, he is.”

“Ha!” Weevil turned to smirk at Rex. “What’d I tell you? Now pay up.”

“Grr, whatever…” Rex forked over three ¥1000 bills. “Seeing as how we’re married and share most of our finances, this is kind of pointless.”

“Wait a second…” Dr. Balls probed around a bit more after he switched the ultrasound to 4D mode. “Hmm, very interesting!”

“Wh-What, is there something wrong with my baby?” Weevil stammered.

“No, no, it’s just… I’ve had many male shapeshifter patients, some of them insect shifters. But… none of them had a cocoon around their baby.”

“Are you serious?” Weevil looked at the ultrasound, and sure enough, his unborn son had not only tiny moth antennae and wings, but a thin moth cocoon keeping him warm. “It’s like… my body literally is the Cocoon of Evolution. I’m totally digging it.”

“Aww!” Amber kissed Weevil’s growing baby bump. “Hi there, baby brother. I can’t wait to meet you!”

“And I’m totally not. ” Even in his married life, Rex had not quite gotten used to insects.

“Since the two of you will complete your doctorate work at the university, you’re more than welcome to give birth here,” Dr. Balls informed his patient while rummaging through files on his tablet. “Especially if you and Rex plan to teach at this university someday. Now, let’s see… Your due date is July 20th. A day before your own birthday, if memory serves.”

“Yeah, well, you know that whole thing about most people not giving birth on their due dates? I get the vibe I won’t. And with any luck, Mai won’t either.”

“The important thing is that the both of you have healthy pregnancies, yeah?” Dr. Balls began to pack a few items for Weevil. “By chance, Rex, do you still have the fetal doppler from your pregnancy?”

“Of course. I couldn’t just part with the damn thing.”

“Splendid! And, as always, feel free to call if and when you need something. Good day now!”

“Good day.” With that, Weevil blocked the incoming sun from his eyes, and without looking, he knew a bee had just landed on his finger. “Say, Rex? Can we stop by somewhere really quick before lunch? I just got an idea.”

“Sure! Where, exactly?” Rex spoke with Amber sitting upon his shoulders.

“I want to visit my old home. You know, the one I haven’t set foot into in nearly four years.”

“Whatever for?” Rex couldn’t believe that Weevil would ever want to go to the home he was mercilessly abused in.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“Argh, I’m not that patient, you know!”

“Careful.” Weevil pointed to Amber as the small family crossed the street. “You’ve got a toddler on your shoulders.”

Before Rex could think of a comeback to that, he heard a middle-aged man’s voice suddenly call out from underneath him. “Change? You got spare change, young man?”

“Huh?” Rex looked down to see a raggedy man in a group of other homeless people. “Sorry, but I don’t carry cash on me.”

“Is it…?” The homeless man got up to get a better look at Weevil. “Could you be…?”

“Hey!” Rex put Amber down and instantly got defensive of Weevil. “Leave my husband alone, you freak!”

“No, hun, it’s okay.” Weevil stopped Rex from throwing any punches. “I know this man.”

“Weeves?” Rex couldn’t understand why Weevil, of all people, would want to take time out of his busy day to talk to a group of homeless people.

“So what happened?” Weevil asked.

“It turns out that I couldn’t keep The Underwood Company afloat. Not only were we about to file for bankruptcy, but all my employees revolted. Now I’m stuck here, depending on the goodwill of others just to have something to eat.”

“And they revolted because of how horribly you treated them, didn’t they? You know that maid Adelaide you abused, just because she was being kind to me? She’s working on her business degree now and wants to take over the company - under a new name, of course. In fact, my family and I were just on our way to visit the old Underwood house. Oh, and just so you know, your ex-wife is going to be an obstetrician soon. Not even your horrific abuse of her could stop her from achieving her dreams.” Weevil held his baby bump protectively. “Or mine.”

“Adelaide and Camellia are…” The homeless man knelt and cried. “And you…?”

“I can’t believe I’ve wasted my time talking to you. I have better things to do with my time. I hope that you suffer for the remainder of your days, and that karma is an utter bitch to you.” Weevil got one last look at the homeless man. “Goodbye, Roach Underwood.”

“Daddy, who is this creepy guy?” Amber looked at the homeless man curiously, still unaware of just who he was or what he had done.

“That’s just it - a creepy guy.” Weevil gestured for Amber to grab his hand. “Come along, Amber, there’s something I want you to see.”

“Weeves… That man we met, is he…?” Rex tried to say as Weevil rang the doorbell to the Underwood mansion; surprisingly, the exterior was rather well-kept.

“Yes. He is.”

Rex didn’t need to hear anything more, and didn’t want to dwell on what he knew was a prickly subject. So instead he commented on how nice Weevil’s childhood home looked like on the inside.

“Is that…?” One of Weevil’s old butlers noticed his former master’s presence.

“You can let him in!” Adelaide called from a far-off room. “It’s Master Weevil!”

“Master Weevil, you have returned!” Several maids and butlers flocked the entrance of the home, giving Weevil lots of hugs.

“Oh, I never thought I’d see the day!” a maid cried. “You look just like Madame Camellia!”

“Guys, guys, take it easy!” Weevil showed off his baby bump after everyone had stopped. “I’m not a little kid anymore; I have my own family now.”

“‘Sup!” Rex waved. “I’m Weevil’s husband, Rex Raptor. And this is our daughter, Ambrosia Camellia Ptera Raptor.”

“How do you do?” Amber curtsied with her sun dress.

“Oh-ho!” Adelaide chuckled. “You’ve raised a fine young lady already. Not to mention you’ve given her a pretty middle name. Well, now that you’re here, what can I do for you? Some lunch, perhaps?”

“Before we get to that, I want to show Amber a little something. By chance, is my childhood greenhouse still here?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. It’s the only room in the mansion that has remained untouched by the renovations.”

“R-Really?” Weevil didn’t expect that response from Adelaide.

“Yes, really! Feel free to check it out for as long as you like before lunch.”

“Thank you! Come on, guys, come see!” Weevil sounded far more excited than either Rex or Amber. He cried tears of joy upon arrival, and stopped to smell a hibiscus flower. “It… looks just like I remember!”

“What’s so exciting about a bunch of plants?” Rex didn’t want to admit it, but he wasn’t all too interested in looking at a bunch of plants.

“Yes, we’ve got the best plants ever, but there’s something even better. Something that’s made me into the duelist I am today.” Weevil allowed a moth caterpillar from the hibiscus flower to crawl on his finger, and showed it to Amber. “Amber, this is a baby Acherontia lachesis , or the greater death’s head hawkmoth.”

“It looks just like your Petit Moth, Daddy!” Amber let the caterpillar crawl on her finger too. “It’s sooooo cute! Ooh!” A pink butterfly landed on Amber’s nose, causing the toddler to sneeze.

“You just sneezed off Greta oto, or the glasswing butterfly.”

“It’s so pretty!” Amber laughed, wanting to play with every little insect that touched her. “Can I stay here forever? Pretty please, Daddy? I wanna learn more about your beautiful bugs!”

“Wish we could, but Auntie Adelaide is gonna have lunch ready soon. But you can play here until then.”

“Hooray!” And with that, Amber ran off with the hawkmoth caterpillar still in her hand.

“Should you really be letting our toddler play with a creepy crawler called ‘death’s head hawkmoth?’” Rex raised an eyebrow.

“Spoken like a dino brain who doesn’t know jack diddly squat about insects.”

“Well, at least it’s good to know how you became an insect duelist.” Rex hugged his husband from behind as he watched their daughter play in the greenhouse. He let his hand drop to Weevil’s baby bump.

“She looks just like me when I was little. If it wasn’t for this greenhouse, I… I don’t know where I’d be today.” Weevil placed his hand on top of Rex’s. “I wonder if I can get our son to love insects, too.”

“So…” Rex laced his fingers with Weevil’s. “Speaking of our little boy, what do you think we should name him?”

Thinking about his adventures in San Francisco with Rex seven years ago, and how they deepened their bond there, it didn’t take Weevil long to think of an answer. “I want our son to be named Francis Bakura Raptor.”

#yugioh #ygo #shrimpshipping #mpreg #fanfiction #HOLY SHIT I'M DONE

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theamberfang · 5 years

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Journal 101

Something I realized is that I didn’t even acknowledge that I wrote my 100th journal entry yesterday. I do recall thinking about it, but it quickly slipped my mind after I jumped into writing about other things. I just don’t really have any sentiments to share about such a milestone; at least, I didn’t find it significant enough to pay it any mind.

Now that I am though, I suppose it’s pretty neat that I had maintained daily journal entries for a hundred days. And... that’s about all I have. Writing these has just become my normal, so it doesn’t really feel like anything special has happened. That could be something to celebrate in-and-of-itself though. It’s great to have a healthy ritual become something normal, and for it to feel abnormal to even think about not doing it. Here’s hoping that maintaining these journal posts will lead to other healthy habits.

My very first waking moments were pretty interesting today. While I was still only half-awake, I pushed myself up from my bed with my palms in a way that gave my wrists a really good bend and stretch, which resulted in a couple of loud pops. Though it resulted in some very mild pain for a bit, I felt like whatever happened left my wrists feeling a lot better for the rest of the day.

It could be that the onset of my wrist pain was caused by swelling - which was caused by repetitive typing and mouse-clicking actions - that misaligned some stuff within the carpal tunnel. Even after resting and letting the swelling go down, some stuff may have still been misaligned. Until today that is when it all snapped back into place. This is my best guess anyway. Even if this isn’t the case, I believed it deeply enough to briefly consider playing Nuclear Throne again, so it should be a solid placebo regardless. Fingers crossed that this means I’ll be able to increase this blog’s productivity again.

I say that, but I should keep preventative measures in mind. There are little things I’ve learned over the past few weeks, such as pulling my hands away from the keyboard between sentences. Even if it’s just a few seconds each time, these moments of reprieve for my hands is better than keeping my fingertips on the keys. It’s barely noticeable, but I think my finger muscles - which are connected to tendons in my wrist - flex and strain whenever I put them on the keys, even when I’m not actively typing. They’re standing at attention basically. Keeping this up for a few hours each day for a couple of months or so seems to be what led to my wrist pain.

With that in mind, I’ll put more thought into how I schedule my writing. Large one to two hours blocks of writing is what led to this predicament. Well, instead of trying to schedule in breaks by the minute or something, maybe I could try to stick to a particular pattern. I’m thinking of trying to commit to a 10 minute break for every 20 minutes of writing, giving me 30 minute chunks to continue scheduling with. I’ll try to apply this pattern to an hour’s work on IDA tomorrow.

Speaking of “tomorrow,” I think I’m actually getting around to having that 25 hour sleep cycle work. At the least, I went to bed yesterday at around 1100 which was an hour or two later than the day before. I also feel like I might be able to stay up until noon before going to bed. Hopefully it works out so that my sleeping schedule ends up back in a place where I can think more seriously again about participating in support groups or doing work around the house or any other things that I can’t really do in the middle of the night.

Oh, and before I finish off this post, I do want to say I succeeded at taking a shower before my family started going to bed. It reminded me that, in the messages we’ve continued to share over on Reddit, Wan tried to give me a bit of advice regarding my dysphoria. It didn’t turn out to be remarkably helpful for me, but I appreciated that he looked up the topic to try and give me some genuine help. The gist of it was to do things that would distract me from my own body, and while the particulars of his advice weren’t especially applicable, I noticed that the way I bring my phone into the bathroom to have music play has been helping in the same manner. I initially began showering with music just for the sake of it, but it’s cool to realize it had been more actively helping me all along.

One last thing I just remembered - this was a thought I had while showering - is that I could write a post on this blog dedicated to addressing any old friends/acquaintances that would come over when I provide a link on Facebook. The idea is of a similar nature to the whole “write a letter to my dad here, then provide him a link.”

I think I had mainly just been expressing this idea in my “extended goals,” but the core of it is that there could be a few people that think more highly of me than I expect. I’ve spent much of my life being an anxious, depressed mess, so the default assumption had been that “no one would really care if I just disappear.” Just by reading that, it should obviously be more a product of depression than actual truth. I really shouldn’t trust the thought anyway, and it could be beneficial to reach out to people.

Something I do need to be careful of is how I’d respond to the possible eventuality of no one responding. Just because no one responds by sending a message to me here on Tumblr or over on Reddit (because I’d likely drop my username there as well), it doesn’t prove the idea that “no one cares.” I mean, not everyone uses these sites, and Tumblr in particular has a strange reputation, so essentially asking people to join these platforms just to talk to me might be a bit much. There’s also the possibility that people just miss it over on Facebook, and I can’t let myself make a big deal over it.

As for what I want to say? I’m not entirely sure at the moment. I suppose explain why I apparently disappeared as far as most anyone on Facebook knew. Essentially explain the suicidal depression which led to me dropping out of school. Amidst the in-and-out therapy for that, I figured out I was transgender, which would explain the name change on Facebook. I’m pretty sure I had changed my first name there without any sort of explanation; it’ll be years late for such an explanation, but whatever. I kind of figured it was self-explanatory in the first place.

Anyway, now is when I’ll cut things off. Not because my wrists hurt or anything, but because I can’t really think of much to say anymore. This has been my longest journal in awhile. Well, my right wrist is a tiny bit strained at the moment, but hopefully this long journal hasn’t caused the return of problems that I thought were fixed. I probably should have implemented the 20/10 pattern to this very journal instead of putting it off until tomorrow now that I think of it. Woops.

Tomorrow Goals:

IDA; 10 minute break for every 20 minutes of writing

Journal; same dealio

#daily journal #personal #meta

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spectrumscribe · 7 years

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Do Kaiju even like apples?

a Pacific Rim and TMNT 2014/16 fusion, introducing budding science sister and her tiny monster brothers. (who won’t be tiny for long.)

@rhi-draws-things provided the illustrations, bless them.

trying a new method of posting stories to tumblr, i think i’ll just add each new installment to this post under the cut of a reblog. have ‘em all together for your reading leisure. enjoy this first one!

April is pretty sure she should have stuck it out at school, and just slept in the nurse’s office.

At least then she would have had an actual bed, rather than be stuck in a hard plastic chair and drowsing while the base’s occupants ran around like kicked ants. Apparently something of the top secret project April knew next to nothing about (hence the ‘top secret’ part of things) had escaped, and everyone had gone zero to sixty in an instant the moment sirens went off.

April had found herself shoved into the nearest staff room, told to lock the door, and not to move until someone came and got her. She’d been expecting that her dad would just look over some documents too important to put off, and then they’d go home so she could sleep off her fever.

No such luck. The sirens outside of her meagrely furnished staff room are still droning, and April is falling asleep despite the awful chair. At least someone lent her a coat at some point, and she’s only shivering a little in the oversized thing.

Her unfinished lunch remains in its baggy near her face, as she leans forward with her cheek pressed to the table. She’d tried to convince herself again to eat, since getting better requires energy, but hasn’t had much luck. It drifts in and out of focus as her eyes get heavier, and giving in, April just lets the fever drag her under into a light nap.

The sirens aren’t enough to keep her awake, or even make her panic longer than the first minute they’d been going. She knows they’re not for a Kaiju attack, and even if they were, she’s inside a military base. There are no active Jaegers here, but there’s some just up the coastline of New York. She’s safe as she could get, outside of a Kaiju shelter.

And, she’s sick. Being sick makes it easier to just not care.

April naps for a period of time she doesn’t remember, and doesn’t rouse again even after the alarms are turned off. She doesn’t notice they have been, and doesn’t know it’s simply because everyone got sick of listening to them while hunting for the escaped subject.

April doesn’t hear the door’s lock be broken from the inside, and doesn’t hear it open and shut with a quiet noise. What she does hear, oddly enough, is the sound of someone messing with her uneaten sandwich.

April blearily opens her eyes, too hot and too cold at the same time, and really annoyed with whatever’s woken her back up to that.

Three claws are sunk into the tip of her sandwich’s baggy, and four wide eyes stare back at her, just over the lip of the table.

The four gold eyes blink at her. April blinks her two blue ones a few times to confirm its real.

She screams.

The owner of the four eyes screams back, and runs away.

April nearly falls out of her chair, scrambling away from the table and the thing with all the coordination possible of a sick individual. She runs into another crappy chair and does fall over, yelping as she goes down.

There’s a dizzying moment, worsened by her illness, in which everything spins in terrible circles. April finally recovers enough to gingerly sit back up; half convinced she’s just had a hallucination.

But, no. That’s definitely a pintsized Kaiju scrabbling around on the linoleum across the room from her.

“Oh my god,” April whispers in horror, and then jumps with a shriek as the creature hisses balefully at her.

She untangles her legs from the chair’s, and manages to get to her feet and press against the wall of the room. April is hyperventilating a little, watching the tiny Kaiju pace and snarl on the other end of their shared space.

It’s between her and the coatracks, where she hung her backpack earlier. Her backpack contains her cellphone, which is what she needs, right this instant, so she can call her dad and the army and if they have one an indoor Jaeger because oh my fucking god, that’s a Kaiju.

A really.

Really.

Small Kaiju.

It’s about the size of an overly large housecat, with a long, strong looking tail whipping around behind it as it paces. Purple spots of bioluminescence follow the length of its body, which cause a bit of nausea to look at when it keeps moving so quickly, and April is still very sick feeling.

The segmented plates on its back almost look like a shell, April thinks distantly. Like a turtle and a dragon and a cattish thing all got mixed together.

It stands up on two legs then, walking perfectly fine like that. April amends and changes the cattish part to lemurish, maybe even humanish. It’s the tail that’s really the tipping point, making the walk ever so slightly abnormal in its gait.

April is very, very dizzy. Oof. Everything is spinning even while she’s still leaning against the wall. Couldn’t the tiny Kaiju have chosen to terrorize her on a day when she wasn’t ill? Is that too much to ask from fate, given that the war was supposed to be over?

“…I guess you’re the one everyone’s looking for,” April says faintly, mostly to herself. The little Kaiju shrieks and hops away to press against the far wall, pacing and tittering nervously. And it is nervous, April is realizing. If she hadn’t known better, she’d almost think the little thing is as scared as she feels at the moment.

But Kaiju are city destroying titans, not afraid even when a Jaeger is thundering towards them. It wouldn’t make sense for even a tiny one to be afraid of a sick teenage girl.

Oh, but this one really is awfully small. April could probably hold it with one arm if she tried.

April reminds herself to focus. Thoughts like that are for after she’s certain she isn’t going to get mauled.

The little Kaiju is eyeing her, but also- as April notices the break of focus every couple seconds- the table April had been sleeping at.

April looks at the sandwich on the table.

She formulates a plan.

Taking a careful step forwards, April starts to move towards the table. She’s nearly startled backwards all over again when the Kaiju makes a leap towards her, only for it to back off immediately. It’s hissing and spitting, but really, it’s just making a show instead of real threats.

The coatrack is directly above where the Kaiju is pacing. April slowly picks up her sandwich.

“Hey, little… guy,” April settles on the addressment, since it’s better than spawn of world destroyers or the like. “Do you want some food?”

The Kaiju watches her warily, but has stopped shrieking every time she moves. It’s clearly torn between following her and the sandwich at the same time; intent gold eyes boring holes into both.

April opens the bag slowly, and takes out half the sandwich.

“Here… look, its fake bologna and lettuce. Mmm, right? Really tasty, I promise. Fake processed meat is about the same as actual processed meat in nutrients anyway.”

The Kaiju inches forwards in half steps, eyes darting between her face and the treat. April takes a chance and tosses the triangle of food onto the floor in front of it.

The food is snapped up immediately, and in an act of definitely inhuman physiology, the sandwich piece disappears into the Kaiju’s mouth. April sees the hinges of its jawline open wider than a human’s would, or even most animals. She gulps quietly at the rows of sharp teeth it has, which flash as it chews noisily.

It’s looking at her now less with fear, more with curiosity. And it’s moving away from the coatrack. Good. April takes out the other half of the sandwich, and figures she can blame her illness for making her think this next step is a good plan.

“You gotta come and take this one from me, dude,” she tells it softly, holding out the sandwich halve and bending down a little. “C’mon… I’m probably not the one who’s gonna bite anyone here…”

Faster than she thought, the Kaiju approaches her. It moves in cautious steps, but is steadily losing the edge of wariness. By the time it tentatively puts a claw on the bread, its eyes are all on the sandwich, and April can step around it without even a hiss in response.

She makes a hasty beeline for her backpack, digging out her phone frantically and thumbing open the screen. She gets open her text messages, and then slowly comes to a stop, fingers hovering.

Soft and chirrupy noises have taken the place of shrieks and hissing, and April glances behind her.

The little Kaiju is sitting with its legs in a clumsy fold, resembling lotus flower position, and is talking adamantly to itself as it dissects the second sandwich halve. Rather than scarf it down, it’s taking the time to examine and… narrate the pieces of the sandwich.

And, in a way, the sounds aren’t just sounds, but are closer to actual words.

April is truly her father’s daughter, because she immediately thinks amazing, and is there more to discover here?

April looks back into the open mouth of her backpack, seeing her baggy of apple slices inside.

Retrieving them, April creeps back towards the Kaijuling. Baby Kaiju? There have only ever been full grown monstrosities publically documented, nothing about early stages of their growth cycles. There’s no word for this creature yet, and even then. April suspects there’s been meddling with its DNA, since there’s no way anything could evolve to have such a drastic growth period between infant and adult.

Except it’s an alien, so. Earth rules might not apply.

April slowly comes to kneel a cautious distance from the little creature. She opens the baggy, and steels herself from startling as its four eyes whip around to stare at her.

Do Kaiju even like apples?

One way to find out.

April wordlessly holds out a slice of apple. It’s been kept fresh by lemon she’d squeezed onto it yesterday, when she didn’t have a damn fever.

“Want one?” she asks. There’s a pause, and then the Kaiju makes a sound of joyful interest.

Without further prompt or hesitation, it slips over to her on all fours, and sits back up to wrap a small clawed hand around the slice. April watches, fascinated and rapidly losing her own fears, as it nibbles at the snack food.

When the first slice is gone, and the little Kaiju is licking its approximation of lips with its pointed tongue, it holds out its hands and makes grabbing gestures and coos impatiently.

“Say please,” April says automatically, and realizes it’s because the behaviors remind her strikingly of a small child.

It stares at her, looking annoyed. April is stunned quietly that it can express annoyance, and not just want or fear something.

“Say please?” she requests again, experimentally.

“Sss… say p’ease?”

April’s mouth falls open, a taking a sharp breath in.

“Say p’ease?” the Kaiju repeats, high voiced and unpracticed. Mimicking her, but not perfectly, missing the harder to pronounce part of a new word, like a child would.

Like a child would.

April hands over the next apple slice, and manages to mumble, “Yeah, that’s right. Say please. Good job.”

“Good job,” repeats back the Kaiju, nearly chirping it, and bites the new slice in half happily. April is still processing her shock as it shifts closer to her, pressing against her leg with its little ones and making grabby gestures again.

“Say p’ease,” it says with confidence, tail flicking against the floor in anticipation.

“…you’re very smart, aren’t you?” April says to it.

The little Kaiju coos and only has eyes for the apple slices. April hands another one over as requested. This time is a little different, though, as it catches her hand with its own free one. She holds perfectly still as it multitasks nibbling the fruit, and examining her pale pink palms and darker skin everywhere else.

April is not particularly afraid, she finds, watching the creature pick at her short finger nails with its wicked little claws.

“Say p’ease, good job,” it pronounces, apparently done with the examination. It grabs for the bag in April’s right hand, and April holds it away on instinct.

“No,” she tells it. It starts to sit up, reaching for it. “No,” April repeats, more firmly. “You ask nicely if you want more. Say please.”

The Kaiju’s face screws up in a pout, its big eyes squinting in annoyance. Its tail lashes for a moment, and then it says in a distinctly put upon voice, “Say p’ease?”

Purely and clearly, that’s the voice of a fed up toddler not getting what they want, and going along because it’s the only way to get it.

April finds herself fighting a smile, and laughing a little. He looks so cute, so frustrated like that.

“Okay, you can have another, now,” she informs him, and gives another piece of apple to the Kaiju. He takes it, but manages to look sulky about it.

April’s knees are starting to cramp like this, and she shifts into a lotus position like her Kaiju friend. She moves away from him to do so, trying to avoid disturbing him with her careful movements, but is surprised when he moves right back next to her once she’s settled.

And then climbs into her lap, fearless and curious about the jacket she’s got on, and the chance to get more apples sooner. April is a little uncomfortable having a mouthful of sharp incisors and hands tipped in claws so close to her vitals, but that’s tempered by the excited tittering the Kaiju makes, picking at the undone zipper of her jacket.

He’s so curious about everything, now that he’s not scared out of his mind. It’s almost like the time April held a large parrot, when a conservationist moved into the apartment next to her and her dad- the huge bird had been noisy and curious, and just enough of a discomfort near her face it’d been a thrill to hold him.

It’s like that, right now, combined with the time she held a baby of a colleague her dad has. Exciting and a little scary, and part of her is worried she’ll upset things if she moves wrong.

April stifles a sound of pain as the Kaiju discovers her coils and tugs on a fistful. She teaches him again about the word no.

It’s only after he’s settled comfortably into her lap, chewing on the last of slices of apple, that April remembers she should probably call someone about this.

It’s made a little harder than usual to text, since somebody has decided the thing he wants most in the world is now her phone.

She’s still trying to explain that no, he can’t have it, and that tapping it rapidly with his claws is just going to scratch the screen- “Pads, you use the pads of your fingers,”- when the door is all but kicked off its hinges behind them.

“There it is!” someone bellows, and April’s little Kaiju friend loses his cool.

The winding tail wrapped loosely around her arm is switched to her stomach, and April is treated to the feeling of being strangled around the midriff and claw tips nearly puncturing her jacket’s fabric.

“Ow, no, hey,” she says, as she gets unsteadily off the ground and backs hastily away from the door. She pats uselessly at the hard ridges of his back. “Dude, hey, I need to- breathe and stuff- ow-”

“Ms. O’Neil, stop moving!” commands the soldier, and oh joy, he’s got a gun. April thinks it’s a tranq gun, and neither it nor he and the other soldiers pouring in are doing anything to calm things down.

“April!” yells her dad, fighting his way through the clog of bodies in the doorway. His eyes are wide with fear as he catches sight of the Kaiju wrapped around his daughter, and looks about ready to throw up.

The little Kaiju shrieks, lighting up hostile purple again and baring its fangs at the intruders. Immediately the sound of safety catches clicking off are heard, and April throws up a hand. “Guys, stop it! You’re scaring him-!”

A particularly brash soldier strides forwards, arm outstretched and aiming to rip the Kaiju off April forcefully, and the tail around April’s waist comes away in a whip quick slash.

The soldier cries out as a bright red seam of blood appears across his face, and April stares in shock at the long barb abruptly produced from the end of the tail.

“NO!” screams the little Kaiju, slashing its long thin barb in the air in front of them. “NO, NO, NO!”

April hysterically thinks she taught him the word no a little too well.

“Hey- WHOA, okay, everyone just-” April takes a number of steps back from the panicking soldiers and her father, trying to keep people out of stabbing range of the tail barb. “-take a deep breath, okay? I’m fine, it’s cool, just stop freaking him out already.”

There’s a murmur of dissent, soldiers shifting uneasily as they try to find an angle to come at them from, and April hears a quiet hiccup beside her neck.

“No, no, no,” repeats her little friend, words shifting into desperate little growls and keens. He’s pressing close as possible to her, strong little limbs clinging tightly, and he’s trembling as he does.

His tail slashing in the air and bared teeth and brightly lit threat display all say animal, dangerous, monster… but the sobs underneath all that say scared little kid.

She raises her hand to run it down his shell-like back plates, turning her own back to everyone and shielding him. “It’s fine, it’s okay, shhh, calm down, buddy. We’re okay. We’re okay. No knifing anybody with your- tail. Thing. Okay? Just… gotta calm down. Just… shh, kiddo… it’s gonna be alright… you’ll be okay, I got you. You’re safe.”

April feels his tail stop slashing around, and slowly, carefully, come back to curl around her middle. She only feels a brief moment of fear she’ll get stabbed by the thin barb, but no pain comes as the tip curls around to her front.

There’s quiet, rapid conversation behind her, and April casts a glance over her shoulder as a harsher whisper-shout makes her friend stiffen in fear.

“Hey!” she snaps at everyone gathered. “Shut up and go away!” The stunned silence following that is satisfying on a level.

Not the politest thing she’s ever said, but she’s sick and exhausted by the emotional roller coaster and there’s a kid in her arms crying still. Not okay by any account.

Oh god the military made tiny Kaijus that are actually tiny babies and April is literally just some teenager. What the hell is she supposed to do about all this? The minute she lets go of him he’ll probably end up back in a lab- a lab her dad works in, does he know that this kid is a literal kid-?

A hundred terrible scenarios flash across her mind about what might be done to her little friend, and April feels even sicker than she was already.

“…April? Are you alright?”

She looks over her shoulder again, at her carefully approaching father. His dark forehead has sweat sheen to it, and he’s darting glances between her and the Kaiju growling at him.

April shushes him again, and he quiets for the most part. He stills tightens his tail around her, though. Determined to stay, determined to defend.

Oh, but he’s so small, and clearly so young, and god, what even happened to create a creature like this? To create a person like this? A scaly little person with a tail and fangs and bioluminescence, who is terrified out of his mind and only trusts April.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” April finally responds, holding her friend in a gentle hug and wondering if she’s the first person to have ever done so.

“Did it… hurt you anywhere? Can you get it to-”

“He’s not an it,” April says firmly, feeling abruptly and fiercely protective. “He’s a little kid, dad. What the hell?”

What the hell does the military want with him? What the hell can I do to prove he’s a person? What the hell did you do, dad?

“Did you know he can talk?” April asks, angry and sad. “Did you know he learn words after only a few tries? Did you know anything like that about him?”

Her father is quiet for a moment, and then says, “No… no I didn’t. They weren’t supposed to be able to do those things.”

“…well he can,” April says, and hugs her little friend tighter. He makes a soft sound of confusion, and presses his cold flat nose to her neck, huffing in concern.

She takes a deep breath, and looks back again. “How many more?” she asks, uncaring that there’s still a few soldiers lingering in the doorway and clearly not on board with what’s happening.

“…three more,” her dad answers, a look of dread entering his expression. “We made four of them. They were only supposed to be subjects for observation and study. Kaiju on a smaller scale, with the ability to respond to communications and possibly even communicate back. But… it wasn’t supposed to be more than that.”

“What did you do to make him small and smart?” April asks, already knowing the answer.

“…we mixed human DNA into the sequence. It was a choice from above my station, hon, I swear. We didn’t know.”

April sighs, and wonders if any adults even try to remember the stuff science fiction and fantasy taught you about playing god with life.

“I think you did a lot more than make pocket-sized Kaiju, dad,” April says, petting her friend’s plated back as he makes a rumbly little purr against her shoulder.

Her dad lets out a ragged breath. “I’m starting to think that, too.”

April gets to keep holding her little friend- someone who turns out to be Donatello, according to the codename she drew out of a hat two months ago, back in her home apartment with her dad. He’d told her it’s for an upcoming project, and she’d thought the game of pulling famous artists out of a hat was just that. A game.

She named them all, all four of them, however indirectly and unknowingly. They’re only a handful of weeks old now- and already so big and smart, compared to human children- but they’re still so… young. Vulnerable.

April cradles Donatello until he falls asleep, nestled against her and playing with her shoulder length coils. Her father sends the soldiers out of the room, and someone important looking shows up in a uniform with a lot of medals and stripes on it.

April clutches Donatello close, who refuses to relinquish his own desperate clutch, and tries to talk a woman nearly three times her age around to April’s point of view.

It doesn’t work how she wants it to, but there’s room for future debate. More discussions and tests to be conducted, and a chance.

April is going to seize that chance and sink her teeth into it and refuse to let go, much like how Donatello does when he gets the idea to starting biting her hair.

She coaxes him off that idea by heckling her dad into handing over one of the hard candies he’s always got in his pockets. It goes over well, and from the intent expression of her father, and his fellow scientists peering in through the doorway, this is Donatello’s first experience with sugary sweets.

He likes it. A lot. Crunching it between his incisors and asking for more afterwards, using his most polite so far, “Say p’ease?”

April’s dad and his boss nearly fall out of their chairs at that. One of the scientists in the doorway clutches his chest and just about faints. It’s a brief spell of relief from the seriousness of things, and April makes sure Donatello gets the candy he so politely asked for.

Donatello is a little heavy by the time they lead her back to his containment cell, which is a room a little smaller than a child’s would be. And it’s bare of anything but a pet bed and some blankets shoved into a corner.

April feels so, so very bad for peeling her sleeping friend off herself, and gently lowering him to rest in the bed. She covers him up with the blankets, and sees him curl into a little ball underneath.

April is stuck for a moment, just watching the blankets rise and fall with his breathing. She doesn’t know what his future from this point will be like, and that scares the daylights out of her.

It only took about two hours for her to get this attached. God knows what she’ll feel like in another week, or less.

It’s hard to get up and walk out, but the rules are that the tests get done before anything is concrete, and that includes April staying away to not contaminate the procedure.

April is tired, still feverish, and now she’s angrily sad on top of all that. She puts one foot in front of the other, and forces herself to make it home before lying down and passing out from sheer exhaustion.

April has uneasy dreams that night, blurry and unhappy, and continues to until she sees Donatello again, and knows he’s going to be okay. That they all will be, him and his incredible siblings.

The next time she picks up Donatello, April is certain she’d never put him down if she could. Him, or any of the other little Kaiju children. Small, and strange, and so in need of somebody to love them.

Of course, within a few years, she can’t even hope to carry around any of them. By that point, they can lift her, and do so just to show off.

But she doesn’t forget the first time few times, how it felt to have Donnie’s tail coil around her midriff and curl tightly there. How it felt to have Raph’s puppyishly big hands hold onto hers as they walked through the hall. How it felt when Leo would cling to her legs and refuse to let go. How it felt to have Mikey clamber up her back and demand piggyback rides as long as he could get them.

When they’re older, they tend more to pick up April and carry her around. It’s easy, since they double in size within the first two years, and then keep going until they tower over everybody on base.

April never does forget, though. And never wants to.

Commission info & Kofi link.

#PR AU #tmnt 2014/16 #April O'Neil #donatello #My writing #they're BABIES #tiny little babies #april is fifteen and now she's got four baby brothers oh noooo #i have too many emotions about that #its my own damn au and i'm crying softly every time i think about *clenches fists*#*chokes up*#how dang much they care about each other #hhh

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rennyji · 3 years

Text

about party schools and proof and effect of their reputation...

May 27th tweets...

The reputed party school wants to spend 11 years wondering why “I don’t go out” in the sense of bars/partying. For their personalities or the kids they’re used to, from the low grade requirements for their school(nothing against anyone for getting admission there), -

-I suppose it’s to be expected. With my grades at Iona Prep High School, I had scholarships with free laptops at some decent private schools. But I chose to go to the Harvard of the SUNY’s: Binghamton University. -

-I transferred out, because I wanted a fresh start with a new major, late in my academic career, after an attempt at electricalEngineering. The only place that’d take me is a reputed party school. Theyre probably like F* you in reading this, but being the truth, it’s undeniable.-

-And at that point in my academic career, I thought, what's in a name to a school or its reputation. But look what happens when you go to some places. Leaving Binghamton was the worst decision for so many normal/abnormal reasons. -

- i mean, for one thing, your grades reflect on the kind of person you are. it can say your hard working, or equally smart but just want to take it easy and do things like party and alcohol and drugs all day. but different story, moving on...-

-I used to spend a lot of time in computer science lounge and in the faculty department common room, at said party school. Despite me being there almost everyday, and at the Starbucks in Colonie, NY for networking, where this location is at the center of multiple Universities,-

-the professors who had a role in this, sided with random kids they don’t see in that area often. I guess it’s because they partied and I studied. “Sided “in that they listened to random kids who don’t know me, rather than talk to the guy in their vicinity on a daily basis. -

-Such is the reputed party school. While in the common area, I heard one of their professors say, they take as many kids from a local community college: Hudson Valley, to boost their graduation rates. -

-I guess they don’t get the kids they need for that in normal admissions at a reputed party school. As I hear them talking sometimes, while making me look crazy for it, you should have heard their astonishment at the Binghamton common computer area in comparison to what they-

-have at their reputed party school. It says a lot about reputations. The orchestrators try to make it seem like, the way I am in a ridiculous situation(probably filmed or the equivalent all day), while living with my parents, is how I am. -

- They’ve been doing this for 11 years, after robbing me of my opportunities for 11 years. I had a life before this, and I intend to continue to, after, with my own network, family, etc, away from these orchestrators and their craziness.-

- &another thing, regarding the party school, think im just saying things? check the books. and are their graduates or students going to get mad at me, despite the school's clear role and for calling the students equally smart, a number of tweets ago? well, oops, OK..moving on.-

moving onto addressing something else...-

-The orchestrators are always misusing people under the pretense that I’m a picked on kid. I’m a successful, grown man. -

-Not because I’m conceited, but from life experience, I wrote 11 yrs ago: “I’m not the last person people harass, but I’m also far from the first.” When it happens, with my image (while chubby, and not handsome now), I know somethings up. -

-Try me, and be direct about it, rather than do something ridiculous from afar. I don’t waste time on idiots. -

-The orchestrators perpetuate and take part, and make official and global, a small rumor of a girl I don’t know or knows me (or her misguided teenage friends who also don’t know me nor do I know them-big theme in this, with all involved) from 11 years ago.-

-The only thing that ever harmed me, abused me, or robbed me of health and opportunities, is the orchestrators. -

-Teenage kids have no power. Whatever effect they have dies down. It takes something big or reputable (like adults of a particular standing) to give their ideology power. -

-These adults...I don’t know them, they don’t know me...I don’t understand their 11 year project/vendetta/-whatever this massive lie is, against me. Maybe it started with just wanting to make money off of me and my life and my lifestyle. -

-In trying to address this 11 year problem, my true focus: my career, gets hidden, and you end up thinking I’m taking part, or after the cr*p-ola of the orchestrators. I’m big on what’s natural. -

-Anywho, I wrote this 1st in the “Notes app” on my iPhone yesterday, to publish on Twitter & tumbler today, in case I forgot. - in case todays posting was seen earlier...think it happens to emails sent to myself and other things...-

-Focus on what’s 4 each day on Twitter &tumbler, despite what cannot be helped i.e. the random relaying of everything @ any time, since no 1 helps me stop it by talking 2 me. Imagine what would happen if you told me-the power to save myself...what a great thing you'd be doing...

about that party school? before things escalated, as soon as I noticed the potential for a problem behind a situation occurring without telling me, I went to their Conflict Resolution office at their school and told them about my concerns and what I noticed-

- the next day, the guy that spoke to me, walks in a different direction, from a small distance, forces a head turn, and gives me a retarded smile. -

-Despite my "reporting things" like one does to the police in the face of a problem, that school went crazy against me on the day of my 2012 finals. can you imagine a school allowed to go nuts on the day of a student's final exams? -

-once again, goes back to the talk about reputations from several tweets ago - this morning. Ur reputation is who you are and reflects in your actions...and here we're dealing with a reputed party school...while they slander my reputation by putting me in retarded predicaments.-

- so many bad experiences with students and faculty at that school...in the first dorm suite i lived in, 5 guys pushed me into my room for pushing them back alone, by myself, for telling them to pitch in cleaning-

-&one of them - a stupid fraternity idiot - rushed to tell on me, saying i punched him. in a part time job, i told the guy i was working w/to teach me the trade or get the phone in my cubicle working in an area with no cell reception. he just responds nastily and it culminates-

- on another occassion, i locked myself out of my room in a different dorm suite, b4 going to my next part time job, which was in their down town. took the highway to get there. went to the faculty and told them my problem - that i had work, can't be late, need to get in my room-

-they tell me that i have to wait 2 hours b/c that's when their services are officially available. what if it was class & i needed my backpack? when they eventually agreed 2 help me, the woman i was speaking with, probably saw me going to my dorm building, -

-& she drives around &past me w/a nasty look to spite me 4asking them, when saying she'll go to my room and unlock it. when i think i went back to their office &told them about it, she claims she went to my building &waited, but i didn't show up. i saw her drive in a circle.

- and that second part time job...to prove myself useful when things weren't busy with a computer job, i would, alone, move big shelves, i think desks, &other furniture, down a floor or two. It was a gesture on my part after hearing them talk about no one clearing their office-

-after the things i did for them, i emailed them if they knew anything about this, &never a response. -

this is the party school now wondering about why i'm not out, socializing, getting laid all day/everyday, hitting the bars, or whatever. To the orchestrators: leave my life alone. They're so much proof to all this...i guess amidst everything else, maybe they can see memories...-

- i mean would it kill these people to go the conventional route and use a lie detector with all involved? It's so easy to clear this up. Based on what I truly want for my life, all of this is a mess.

- based on tech they use, in claiming 2 help me(when i need no help aside from telling me whats happening), they try to justify lies 2slander me or try to get me 2write all day. They perpetuate nonsense 2get me 2write, 2 I guess, see if they can predict it-to put it another way.

and going back to conflict resolution at the party school? there was one thing i forgot to mention. not only did he allow this to transpire without telling me. -

-on the day of my exams, when the sounds projected 2 me, made threats 2 a relative of mine, there, by saying "maybe we should help him too", I called Conflict Resolution @ party school several times. They wouldn't pick up. I think I left messages, but no call back. -

- in the face of harassment, threats, evolving to what it is today, under a false impression by people of power, such is the party school.

- U gotta wonder amidst yrs of this mental strain, especially at party school, where was cr*p flowery Amerian psychology/counseling system, what was the school's Conflict Resolution doing. -

-at that party school, failures all around..at the time I was there, academic departments were closing like i think their French department. but whatever. orchestrators are people in power, parading as those of quality, when they're not. 11 years of torture attest to that.

and one normal tweet for when we can move past this...-

love the @onepeloton (peloton). love #leannehainsby (cycling trainer) for her appearance, personality, and training.

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linadventures · 5 years

Text

So yesterday was a real stressful one. I honestly thought my brain would burn. (I don't want to go into detail about it but at the same time I do, to get it out of myself. If that makes sense.)

The week that was was a very stressful week;

12th of May, Sunday: actually did my first suicide attempt. Although I didn't want to die, really, I just wanted to get rid of something of myself and even though I was scared as hell of dying I felt grateful for the things I love and care for and was able to fall asleep. I also tried to hint/tell some close friends of mine about what I was up to (I felt incredibly abandoned and struggled with a lot of things all at once and - okey maybe I did want to die! IMSORRY) but no one understood my hints EVEN THOUGH I have told them many times what song I want to be played during my funeral: Don't stop me now, by Queen. I wrote a note that said just that "Don't stop me now" and sent a photo of it to two of my close friends - because to me it made perfect absolute sense. Don't stop me now.

13th of May, Monday: woke up happy to be alive, had lots of energy and thought it a silly thing to try and die the night before, especially since I would have my audition for a drama school in London (via Skype since I live in Sweden) this (mon)day. It went pretty well.

14th of May, Tuesday: first premier for the spring play I play one of the leading roles in. Also my sister's 22nd birthday!🌹💞

15th of May, Wednesday: I can't remember this day at all, it is a blur to me. WAIT I do remember obsessing over deciding on whether or not I was to tell the person I have a crush on that I have feelings for them. I've been debating on this for months.

16th of May, Thursday: Cheered on and supported my friends when they had their spring plays done. #dramakidsunite ✊🏼🎭💞 Also picked up my monolouge film from the filmcompany students in town!

17th of May, Friday: big premiere night for the weekend shows with the spring plays! Had lots of energy, if I remember it correctly. Faced a total of three fears; I told the person I have feelings for how I feel about them (was denied and I can now understand why I've been so stressed out forkinghell); climbed up on a kitchebbench to make a drawing on a wall (I'm scared of heights); cycled home alone in the dark night while being tipsy.

18th of May, Saturday: Walked the Pride Parade. Felt like "one in the gang" or whatever it is called, for the first time in my life. Like I wasn't abnormal or strange or weird. I was me, and I was all of me. 🏳️‍🌈🙌💕 Also sang out my sadness in the songs they played in the parade and I loved every second of it. The same day I was hosting for the spring plays, but only got to know about it 10 minutes before I was supposed to start my hosting shift, but by then I had already just arrived back home so I had to run to the bus, spend my last money on a bus ticket and hurry the fork back to the theatre - I was very upset and frustrated and shamed all at once!!!

19th of May, Sunday: burned out and stressed and sad. Spoke to my best friend about it as much as I could but also didn't want to put my shit on her because she is also very sensitive to stress. The fire alarm at the grocery store went off when we (best friend and me) were there and I had to do the best to hold back my tears because it scared the shit out of me. Had a good talk with my mum over the phone. Also got the acceptance letter to the drama school today (which I still almost can't believe yet, I am blown away with happiness and energy) - and my play had its big weekend premiere this evening and it went very well. Got to bed early and fell asleep calmly, slept well until I had a crazy nightmare that woke me up exactly at 00:00 - called my bubi for support and to calm down but they ended up falling alseep and now 4 hours has passed and I still can't seem to fall asleep and I am supposed to wake up in an hour to start and prepare for my spring play show at 9am and I have to be there at 7.45.

Help.

#quiet borderline #quietborderline #bpd #mental health #help #dramaschool #dreamcometrue #sensitive

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ayma-nidiot · 4 years

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“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 34 (LAST CHAPTER)

This chapter on AO3 can be found here.

Epilogue - The Evergreen Greenhouse

~29 December 2007~

“Weeves!” Rex called out. “I just won the tournament! Since we both just turned 21, why don’t we go celebrate with drinks?”

The first one to answer him was not his new husband, but rather his 2-year-old daughter. “Papa!”

“Amber!” Rex picked Amber up and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “How ya’ doing, big girl?”

“You okay?”

“Someone’s not feeling so awesome… It’s Daddy.”

“Ugh…” Weevil gave Rex a pained look before throwing up into the loo again.

“Daddy’s been like this aaaaall morning.” Amber sounded like she was about to cry. “What should we do, Papa?”

“Papa?” Amber looked at her mother quizzically.

“Amber, get my phone. I’m gonna call the doctor and get Daddy there right away.”

“Throwing up for an entire morning is totally not fine.” Rex picked Weevil up princess-style and put him in the middle of the 2006 Mazda 5 with Amber. “And you’re about to see that.”

____________

~A quick drive and 30 minutes later~

“So… So, what did you find, Doctor?” Weevil asked Dr. Balls.

“After performing the ultrasound, we’ve discovered that you’re pregnant, Mr. Raptor. Eleven weeks, to be exact.”

“What a sweet coincidence…” Rex smiled as he stroked Weevil’s belly.

“I… I see. Thank you, Doctor.” After Dr. Balls left, Weevil turned to glare at his husband. “Why didn’t you tell me that I’m capable of getting pregnant, dino brain?”

“...Humph.”

“I’m sorry, Weeves, are you mad? You still want to keep the baby, don’t you?”

“Oh, I’ll keep the baby, all right. But you better treat me to bee larvae whenever I ask for it.”

“Yay!” Amber gave her father a happy hug. “I’m going to be a big sister!”

“Indeed you are,” spoke a middle-aged woman in scrubs, who had just entered the room.

“What? Mother?” Weevil didn’t expect to see Camellia come out of nowhere. “What are you doing here?”

“Grandma!” Amber ran to Camellia to give her a hug too.

“That’s great! Congratulations!”

Rex’s smile turned upside down when Camellia turned on the T.V., and the first thing that came on was a replay of Weevil’s now-infamous regionals victory.

“Oooh!” Amber had never seen this duel of her parents in their teen years. “Is that you, Papa?”

Rex facepalmed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s your Papa, all right.”

“So have you learned to use strategy since then, dino brain?”

“Nah. Strategies are for dweebs and bug boys.” Rex held tightly onto Weevil’s hand. “And I’m so proud to be married to a man who’s both of them.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“You… You sure?” Camellia asked.

“I’m willing to bet my deck on it.”

“Then how are you supposed to beat me, bug boy?” spoke a voice from the adjacent hospital bed.

“Whoa!” Rex turned around to see Mai laying on that bed, with Joey by her side. “Again with the coincidental meetings, Joey?”

“Great, just the person I wanted to see…” Weevil felt another wave of nausea about to hit him, and clutched his gut tighter.

“Hey!” Amber ran over to Joey. “Now look what you did to Daddy!”

“Ehehehe…” Joey waved a nervous hand. “Hey.”

“...I know you! You’re that big meanie who took Papa’s Red-Eyes Black Dragon and Daddy’s Insect Queen, aren’t you?”

“Amber!”

Amber ignored her mother. “Someday, I’m going to beat you and get them back! You’ll see!” She stuck her tongue out at Joey. “You big buttmunch!”

“Okay, Amber, that’s enough,” Rex laughed as he picked up his daughter.

“I suppose our rivalry never really will die, will it?” Joey laughed back, then turned to talk to Amber. “Amber, you’re a very smart kid. I’d love to duel you someday.”

“...” Amber only pouted in response. “Okay, but you’re going to be bug juice.”

Weevil smiled, as he always did when his daughter used catch phrases from both of her parents. “So what brings you here, Joey?”

“And if you couldn’t tell, I’m the dad!” Joey proclaimed proudly.

“Of course, this idiot got the whole ‘marry first, have kids later’ thing backwards.” Mai rolled her eyes. “He only got the courage to propose to me yesterday.”

“Touché,” replied Weevil.

“Soooo.” Rex waggled his eyebrows at Joey. “Looks like Weeves and I weren’t the only ones busy making babies on my wedding night.”

“Hehehehe...” Joey chuckled nervously. “And what a coincidence that Mai and Weevil will probably give birth on the same day.”

“Then maybe you should be the ‘godparents’ of our son.” Weevil was only half-joking.

“I’m down for that!” Weevil and Mai appeared to agree with Joey.

“Actually, that can be arranged,” Dr. Balls cut in. “It’s more common than you think for friends or their spouses to give birth together.”

“Good to know.” Weevil groaned slightly as he got out of bed. “Well, I’ve got a final paper to write for biochemistry, so if you’ll excuse me.”

“So I’ll see you again in nine weeks?” Dr. Balls patted Weevil on the shoulder, giving him the ultrasound pictures on his way out.

“You bet.”

“Fantastic. Now, no dueling or other strenuous activities until your second trimester, understood?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Weevil bowed on his way to the nearby pharmacy, giving a congratulations nod to Joey and Mai. He didn’t feel nauseated at the moment, but still felt muscle soreness from his morning sickness bout. He rubbed his belly while waiting for his antiemetic medications to be made, speaking to the unborn child in there. “So help me Ra, if I ruin my entire semester’s work because of you, you’ll be sorry.”

“Hey, Weevil?”

“Yeah, Rex?”

“Wouldn’t it be cool if we could, like, get each other pregnant at the same time?”

“Yeah, Weevil?”

“You owe me ¥2000 if the child I’m carrying is a boy.”

“Naw, that’s no good. You’ll owe me ¥3000 if it’s a girl.”

“Then it’s on!”

_________

~02 March 2007, 11:00~

“Hmm!” Dr. Balls looked closer at the 4D-ultrasound. “Well, Mr. Raptor, I’ll be. You guessed right; you are carrying your first son. And he’s a perfectly healthy lad, he is.”