#seeing his past. reconnecting with his old self. Etc etc.

[survivalshipping]

i’m so normal about this sequence in issue #4 i swear. garmadon is one of the characters ever and this comic series is everything to me

[princesssarisa]

the 7-questions-ask: Scrooge

Three facts about them from my personal headcanons.

His mother was alive during his childhood. She was just emotionally fragile and easily ruled by her stern husband, like Clara in David Copperfield, which is why she allowed him to send little Ebenezer away to the harsh boarding school and not even bring him home for the holidays. She was able to raise Fan into a sweet, lovely girl, though. (I've just decided on this because I'm tired of adaptations killing her off and using her death to explain the coldness of Scrooge's father, when the book never even mentions her as dead or alive in Scrooge's childhood flashback.)

He's of Scottish descent. His family surname was originally the Scottish "Scroggie," but they changed it to the more Anglo-sounding "Scrooge" when they relocated to England.

He's in his late fifties or early sixties during A Christmas Carol, and is going to live about twenty years longer, eventually dying at a ripe old age surrounded by loved ones. In the original timeline that the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come shows him, he would have died much sooner, but his new and improved life will bring him better health and more will to live.

A reason they suck:

Well, at the beginning, he's a mean, cold-hearted miser who does nothing to help the poor, and who neglects his clerk's needy family.

A reason they are great:

In the end he becomes so generous and kind, and he proves that it's never too late to change or to find happiness that you thought you would never have.

A reason I relate to them:

I sometimes feel tempted to be self-absorbed and solitary, but I'm always happier when I remember to caring and generous.

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character:

Belle in his youth. In his old age, none, though it might be nice to imagine him reconnecting with Belle, finding that she's a widow, and reconciling with her in a December/December romance.

Five things that never happened to the character that I believe should have happened:

He should have met with the spirits of some of the good people from his past – e.g. his sister Fan, or Fezziwig – as well as with Marley's Ghost. It would have been nice for him to see that they were proud of his redemption.

He should have been able to see the vision of Belle with her family, and regret that he missed his chance to have children, without Dickens-as-narrator interrupting the scene to talk hornily about Belle's grownup daughter and wish he could be one of her little siblings so he could unpin her hair, touch her lips, etc. Why did 19th century male authors have to be that way about women?! (Although if the Muppet version, with Gonzo as Dickens, had included that scene, and Camilla the Chicken had played the daughter, it could have been funny.)

He should have realized from the beginning that the dead man being discussed throughout the Christmas Yet to Come scenes was himself. It's not exactly a shocking, unpredictable twist. But then, he probably does realize it's him, and just won't admit it to himself until he sees his name on the tombstone.

He should not have teased Bob Cratchit on St. Stephen's Day and made him think he was going to fire him only to raise his salary instead. Bob must have been terrified! (Not that I really disapprove of Scrooge's teasing Bob, it's a funny and unforgettable scene, but still... it's good that he rediscovers how to have mischievous fun, but I hope he knows not to let pranks go too far!)

He should have been able to tell someone about his adventures with the ghosts. I like to imagine that a few years later, he will tell Tiny Tim about them.

Five people that character never fell in love with and why.

His sister Fan. No incest.

His nephew Fred. No gay incest.

His nephew Fred's wife. Beautiful though she is, she's too young for him, and he would never betray his nephew that way.

Jacob Marley. They were only partners in the business sense.

Mrs. Cratchit. She's a nice woman, but she'll only be a friend.

@faintingheroine, @ariel-seagull-wings, @reds-revenge

[panharmonium]

old bookends!au meta that i typed up in a frenzy one night during our last rewatch and then never posted because things disappear in my drafts, but i’m cleaning them out today

under the cut because it’s really only relevant to padmerrie 🙃

“I LOANED IT TO YOU THREE YEARS AGO!!!!!”

this whole sequence is reminding me of a recurring bookends thought i often have which is just that kakashi actually allowing himself to have fights with people who aren’t obito is kind of a big thing for him and a sign that’s he’s (still!) getting better all the time

like - i imagine that bookends!kakashi in the aftermath of obito disappearing goes through a long isolationist period because:

a) he can barely keep his head above water as is and he does not have the time or energy or brainspace for anything that isn’t keeping a child alive and semi-well-adjusted (always at kakashi’s own expense in those early years, because preventing sasuke from becoming “like him” and suffering “like that” is the reason he’s running up that hill, to the point where it’s just.  bad for his own personal and emotional well-being but simultaneously a necessary sacrifice that he doesn’t regret and that sasuke will someday recognize for the herculean lifesaving choice that it was) 

and b) he’s reeling from the fact that the person who rewired his worldview and taught him to love/trust people abandoned him and left him to drown, and at some point, you know, the lesson about not relying on anyone else sinks in, for a kid whose father killed himself right where little kakashi would find the body, for someone who then grew up in a system of state “care” and fled from it when his one possible way out (minato) was murdered for the entire country to see, who survived on his own and never had anybody to take care of him ever and then got burned by the one person who ever convinced him to give human connections a try again despite all of that - if that person could do him like this, then how is he supposed to trust anybody else to have his back? 

if kakashi can’t count on obito, he can’t count on anybody.  the stakes are too high here.  sasuke is too important.  kakashi can’t rely on anyone to Save the Child (read: to prevent the creation of another kid with kakashi’s own brand of trauma) except himself.  anyone else is too much of a risk, and he literally does not have the brainspace for "friends” just now.  

and then, a little later, when he’s starting to come out of his shell and reconnect with old friends (yamato gai etc) and make new friends for the first time in ages (iruka), he’s still not letting himself be totally free with them, either, because kakashi, as we know, internalizes everything and carries the weight of the past on his back even when the guilt isn’t his to claim, so there is this subconscious piece of him that remembers the last time he lost a friend and is still half-convinced that he was the one responsible for obito disappearing on him (no), and we know kakashi already has this underlying streak of thinking he’s intrinsically less worthy than everyone else, he’s hard to love, it’s hard to be his friend, he’s the trash and other people are the trash collectors cleaning him up and making him better.  so he doesn’t let himself be his full authentic self with his new connections either, because that would mean he’d have to have feelings and needs and maybe he would even get sad or upset or angry sometimes, and you can’t DO things like that when there’s no room for error in your life, when every little thing you do might torpedo the tiny bit of stability you’ve cobbled together for yourself, when every little mistake you make might destroy the relationships you’ve started building.  

he holds himself to an impossible, inhumane standard, because that’s what he’s always had to do to survive, and his relationships are stunted as a result, because it’s hard to be deep, true friends with a person who’s always wearing a mask, even if said person is doing it to (supposedly) make things easier for you.  and it’s hardly fair to the people currently around him, who would never begrudge him his bad days or condemn him for a less-than-proud moment, who would never reject him because he once expressed himself poorly or reacted to being hurt.  him withholding those parts of himself is a trust problem on his end, and even though it’s wholly understandable, it impairs his relationships for years.  (like - people like gai and yamato have known kakashi long enough to know when he’s doing this, and while gai possesses an impressive level of immunity to kakashi’s behavior, yamato is always second-guessing himself, because if someone is supposed to be your friend, and then they don’t actually trust you to, you know, be their friend, it’s like - “what am i doing wrong?”  it’s a constant reminder that you aren’t the intimate friend you want to be, that they won’t let you close that distance, and you have to wonder what is it about you that makes you not enough.)

so i love this image of kakashi, several years on, being for once SO delightfully unrestrained, so quick to speak up when something pisses him off, so ready to risk having the fight.  he’s spent so much time swallowing his own feelings and putting his own needs aside and never letting himself be visibly angry or upset about anything (because anger takes energy, anger distracts you from surviving, anger makes you a less effective caregiver [especially to a very angry kid], and if you let yourself be angry about one thing you might suddenly realize that you are angry about a LOT of things, and that will open up a can of worms you can’t repack), so him actually allowing himself to get mad and have a stupid fight with someone who isn’t obito (without expecting said person to bail on him like obito) is like when you see a little crocus nub clawing its way out of the snow and you’re like “oh!  that plant isn’t dead after all!  look at him go!  look at him grow!”

[samwisethewitch]

Pagan Paths: Wicca

Wicca is the big granddaddy of neopagan religions. Most people who are familiar with modern paganism are specifically familiar with Wicca, and will probably assume that you are Wiccan if you tell them you identify as pagan. Thanks to pop culture and a handful of influential authors, Wicca has become the public face of modern paganism, for better or for worse.

Wicca is also one of the most accessible pagan religions, which is why I chose to begin our exploration of individual paths here. Known for its flexibility and openness, Wicca is about as beginner-friendly as it gets. While it definitely isn’t for everyone, it can be an excellent place to begin your pagan journey if you resonate with core Wiccan beliefs.

This post is not meant to be a complete introduction to Wicca. Instead, my goal here is to give you a taste of what Wiccans believe and do, so you can decide for yourself if further research would be worth your time. In that spirit, I provide book recommendations at the end of this post.

History and Background

Wicca was founded by Gerald Gardner, a British civil servant who developed an interest in the esoteric while living and working in Asia. Gardner claimed that, after returning to England, he was initiated into a coven of witches who taught him their craft. Eventually, he would leave this coven and start his own, at which point he began the work of bringing Wicca to the general public. In 1954, Garner published his book Witchcraft Today, which would have a great impact on the formation of Wicca, as would his 1959 book The Meaning of Witchcraft.

Gardner claimed that the rituals and teachings he received from his coven were incomplete — he attempted to fill in the gaps, which resulted in the creation of Wicca. Author Thea Sabin calls Wicca “a New Old Religion,” which is a good way to think about it. When Gardner wrote the first Wiccan Book of Shadows, he combined ancient and medieval folk practices from the British Isles with ceremonial magic dating back to the Renaissance and with Victorian occultism. These influences combined to create a thoroughly modern religion.

Wicca spread to the United States in the 1960s, at which time several new and completely American traditions were born. Some of these traditions are simply variations on Wicca, while others (like Feri and Reclaiming, which we’ll discuss in future posts) became unique, full-fledged spiritual systems in their own right. In America, Wicca collided with the counter-culture movement, and several activist groups began to combine the two. Wicca has continued to evolve through the decades, and is still changing and growing today.

There are two main “types” of Wicca which take very different approaches to the same deities and core concepts.

Traditional Wicca is Wicca that looks more or less like the practices of Gerald Gardner, Doreen Valiente, Alex Sanders, and other early Wiccan pioneers. Traditional Wiccans practice in ritual groups called covens. Rituals are typically highly formal and borrow heavily from ceremonial magic. Traditional Wicca is an initiatory tradition, which means that new members must be trained and formally inducted into the coven by existing members. This means that if you are interested in Traditional Wicca, you must find a coven or a mentor to train and initiate you. However, most covens do not place any limitations on who can join and be initiated, aside from being willing to learn.

Most Traditional Wiccan covens require initiates to swear an oath of secrecy, which keeps the coven’s central practices from being revealed to outsiders. However, there are traditional Wiccans who have gone public with their practice, such as the authors Janet and Stewart Farrar.

Eclectic Wicca is a solitary, non-initiatory form of Wicca, as made popular by author Scott Cunningham in his book Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner. Eclectic Wiccans are self-initiated and may practice alone or with a coven, though coven work will likely be less central in their practice. There are very few rules in Eclectic Wicca, and Wiccans who follow this path often incorporate elements from other spiritual traditions, such as historical pagan religions or modern energy healing. Because of this, there are a wide range of practices that fall under the “Eclectic Wicca” umbrella. Really, this label refers to anyone who considers themselves Wiccan, follows the Wiccan Rede (see below), and does not belong to a Traditional Wiccan coven. The majority of people who self-identify as Wiccan fall into this group.

Core Beliefs and Values

Thea Sabin says in her book Wicca For Beginners that Wicca is a religion with a lot of theology (study and discussion of the nature of the divine) and no dogma (rules imposed by religious structures). As a religion, it offers a lot of room for independence and exploration. This can be incredibly empowering to Wiccans, but it does mean that it’s kind of hard to make a list of things all Wiccans believe or do. However, we can look at some basic concepts that show up in some form in most Wiccan practices.

Virtually all Wiccans live by the Wiccan Rede. This moral statement, originally coined by Doreen Valiente, is often summarized with the phrase, “An’ it harm none, do what ye will.”

Different Wiccans interpret the Rede in slightly different ways. Most can agree on the “harm none” part. Wiccans strive not to cause unnecessary harm or discomfort to any living thing, including themselves. Some Wiccans also interpet the word “will” to be connected to our spiritual drive, the part of us that is constantly reaching for our higher purpose. When interpreted this way, the Rede not only encourages us not to cause harm, but also to live in alignment with our own divine Will.

Wiccans experience the divine as polarity. Wiccans believe that the all-encompassing divinity splits itself (or humans split it into) smaller aspects that we can relate to. The first division of deity is into complimentary opposites: positive and negative, light and dark, life and death, etc. These forces are not antagonistic, but are two halves of a harmonious whole. In Wicca, this polarity is usually embodied by the pairing of the God and Goddess (see below).

Wiccans experience the divine as immanent in daily life. In the words of author Deborah Lipp, “the sacredness of the human being is essential to Wicca.” Wiccans see the divine present in all people and all things. The idea that sacred energy infuses everything in existence is a fundamental part of the Wiccan worldview.

Wiccans believe nature is sacred. In the Wiccan worldview, the earth is a physical manifestation of the divine, particularly the Goddess. By attuning with nature and living in harmony with its cycles, Wiccans attune themselves with the divine. This means that taking care of nature is an important spiritual task for many Wiccans.

Wiccans accept that magic is real and can be used as a ritual tool. Not all Wiccans do magic, but all Wiccans accept that magic exists. For many covens and solitary practitioners, magic is an essential part of religious ritual. For others, magic is a practice that can be used not only to connect with the gods, but also to improve our lives and achieve our goals.

Many Wiccans believe in reincarnation, and some may incorporate past life recall into their spiritual practice. Some Wiccans believe that our souls are made of cosmic energy, which is recycled into a new soul after our deaths. Others believe that our soul survives intact from one lifetime to the next. Many famous Wiccan authors have written about their past lives and how reconnecting with those lives informed their practice.

Important Deities and Spirits

The central deities of Wicca are the Goddess and the God. They are two halves of a greater whole, and are only two of countless possible manifestations of the all-encompassing divine. The God and Goddess are lovers, and all things are born from their union.

Though some Wiccan traditions place a greater emphasis on the Goddess than on the God, the balance between these two expressions of the divine plays an important role in all Wiccan practices (remember, polarity is one of the core values of this religion).

The Goddess is the Divine Mother. She is the source of all life and fertility. She gives birth to all things, yet she is also the one who receives us when we die. Although she forms a duality in her relationship with the God, she also contains the duality of life and death within herself. While the God’s nature is ever-changing, the Goddess is constant and eternal.

The Goddess is strongly associated with both the moon and the earth. As the Earth Mother, she is especially associated with fertility, abundance, and nurturing. As the Moon Goddess, she is associated with wisdom, secret knowledge, and the cycle of life and death.

Some Wiccans see the goddess as having three main aspects: the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. The Maiden is associated with youth, innocence, and new beginnings; she is the embodiment of both the springtime and the waxing moon. The Mother is associated with parenthood and birth (duh), abundance, and fertility; she is the embodiment of the summer (and sometimes fall) and of the full moon. The Crone is associated with death, endings, and wisdom; she is the embodiment of winter and of the waning moon. Some Wiccans believe this Triple Goddess model is an oversimplification, or complain that it is based on outdated views on womanhood, but for others it is the backbone of their practice.

Symbols that are traditionally used to represent the Goddess include a crescent moon or an image of the triple moon (a full moon situated between a waxing and a waning crescent), a cup or chalice, a cauldron, the color silver, and fresh flowers.

The God is the Goddess’s son, lover, and consort. He is equal parts wise and feral, gentle and fierce. He is associated with sex and by extension with potential (it could be said that while the Goddess rules birth, the God rules conception), as well as with the abundance of the harvest. He is the spark of life, which is shaped by the Goddess into all that is.

The God is strongly associated with animals, and he is often depicted with horns to show his association with all things wild. As the Horned God he is especially wild and fierce.

The God is also strongly associated with the sun. As a solar god he is associated with the agricultural year, from the planting and germination to the harvest. While the Goddess is constant, the God’s nature changes with the seasons.

In some Wiccan traditions, the God is associated with plant growth. He may be honored as the Green Man, a being which represents the growth of spring and summer. This vegetation deity walks the forests and fields, with vines and leaves sprouting from his body.

Symbols that are traditionally used to represent the God include phalluses and phallic objects, knives and swords, the color gold, horns and antlers, and ripened grain.

Many covens, both Traditional and Eclectic, have their own unique lore around the God and the Goddess. Usually, this lore is oathbound, meaning it cannot be shared with those outside the group.

Many Wiccans worship other deities besides the God and Goddess. These deities may come from historical pantheons, such as the Greek or Irish pantheon. A Wiccan may work with the God and Goddess with their coven or on special holy days (see below), but work with other deities that are more closely connected to their life and experiences on a daily basis. Wiccans view all deities from all religions and cultures as extensions of the same all-encompassing divine force.

Wiccan Practice

Most Wiccans use the circle as the basis for their rituals. This ritual structure forms a liminal space between the physical and spiritual worlds, and the Wiccan who created the circle can choose what beings or energies are allowed to enter it. The circle also serves the purpose of keeping the energy raised in ritual contained until the Wiccan is ready to release it. Casting a circle is fairly easy and can be done by anyone — simply walk in a clockwise circle around your ritual space, laying down an energetic barrier. Some Wiccans use the circle in every magical or spiritual working, while others only use it when honoring the gods or performing sacred rites.

While it is on one level a practical ritual tool, the circle is also a representation of the Wiccan worldview. Circles are typically cast by calling the four quarters (the four compass points of the cardinal directions), which are associated with the four classical elements: water, earth, fire, and air. Some (but not all) Wiccans also work with a fifth element, called spirit or aether. The combined presence of the elements makes the circle a microcosm of the universe.

Casting a circle requires the Wiccan to attune themselves to these elements and to honor them in a ritual setting. This is referred to as calling the quarters. When a Wiccan calls the quarters, they will move from one cardinal point to the next (usually starting with east or north), greet the spirits associated with that direction/element, and invite them to participate in the ritual. (If spirit/aether is being called, the direction it is associated with is directly up, towards the heavens.) This is done after casting the circle, but before beginning the ritual.

What happens within a Wiccan ritual varies a lot — it depends on the Wiccan, their preferences, and their goals for that ritual. However, nearly all Wiccan religious rites begin with the casting of the circle and calling of the quarters. (Some would argue that a ritual that doesn’t include these elements cannot be called Wiccan.)

When the ritual is completed, the quarters must be dismissed and the circle taken down. Wiccans typically dismiss the quarters by moving from one cardinal point to the next (often in the reverse of the order used to call the quarters), thanking the spirits of that quarter, and politely letting them know that the ritual is over. The circle is taken down (or “taken up,” as it is called in some traditions) in a similar way, with the person who cast the circle moving around it counterclockwise and removing the energetic barrier they created. This effectively ends the ritual.

There are eight main holy days in Wicca, called the sabbats. These celebrations, based on Germanic and Celtic pagan festivals, mark the turning points on the Wheel of the Year, i.e., the cycle of the seasons. By honoring the sabbats, Wiccans attune themselves with the natural rhythms of the earth and actively participate in the turning of the wheel.

The sabbats include:

Samhain (October 31): Considered by many to be the “witch’s new year,” this Celtic fire festival has historic ties to Halloween. Samhain is primarily dedicated to the dead. During this time of year, the otherworld is close at hand, and Wiccans can easily connect with their loved ones who have passed on. Wiccans might celebrate Samhain by building an ancestor altar or holding a feast with an extra plate for the dead. Samhain is the third of the three Wiccan harvest festivals, and it is a joyous occasion despite its association with death. (By the way, this sabbat’s name is pronounced “SOW-en,” not “Sam-HANE” as it appears in many movies and TV shows.)

Yule/Winter Solstice (December 21): Yule is a celebration of the return of light and life on the longest night of the year. Many Wiccans recognize Yule as the symbolic rebirth of the God, heralding the new plant and animal life soon to follow. Yule celebrations are based on Germanic traditions and have a lot in common with modern Christmas celebrations. Wiccans might celebrate Yule by decorating a Yule tree, lighting lots of candles or a Yule log, or exchanging gifts.

Imbolc (February 1): This sabbat, based on an Irish festival, is a celebration of the first stirrings of life beneath the blanket of winter. The spark of light that returned to the world at Yule is beginning to grow. Imcolc is a fire festival, and is often celebrated with the lighting of candles and lanterns. Wiccans may also perform ritual cleansings at this time of year, as purification is another theme of this festival.

Ostara/Spring Equinox (March 21): Ostara is a joyful celebration of the new life of spring, with ties to the Christian celebration of Easter. Plants are beginning to bloom, baby animals are being born, and the God is growing in power. Wiccans might celebrate Ostara by dying eggs or decorating their homes and altars with fresh flowers. In some covens, Ostara celebrations have a special focus on children, and so may be less solemn than other sabbats.

Beltane (May 1): Beltane is a fertility festival, pure and simple. Many Wiccans celebrate the sexual union of the God and Goddess, and the resulting abundance, at this sabbat. This is also one of the Celtic fire festivals, and is often celebrated with bonfires if the weather permits. The fae are said to be especially active at Beltane. Wiccans might celebrate Beltane by making and dancing around a Maypole, honoring the fae, or celebrating a night of R-rated fun with friends and lovers.

Litha/Midsummer/Summer Solstice (June 21): At the Summer Solstice, the God is at the height of his power and the Goddess is said to be pregnant with the harvest. Like Beltane, Midsummer is sometimes celebrated with bonfires and is said to be a time when the fae are especially active. Many Wiccans celebrate Litha as a solar festival, with a special focus on the God as the Sun.

Lughnasadh/Lammas (August 1): Lughnasadh (pronounced “loo-NAW-suh”) is an Irish harvest festival, named after the god Lugh. In Wicca, Lughnasadh/Lammas is a time to give thanks for the bounty of the earth. Lammas comes from “loaf mass,” and hints at this festival’s association with grain and bread. Wiccans might celebrate Lughnasadh by baking bread or by playing games or competitive sports (activities associated with Lugh).

Mabon/Fall Equinox (September 21): Mabon is the second Wiccan harvest festival, sometimes called “Wiccan Thanksgiving,” which should give you a good idea of what Mabon celebrations look like. This is a celebration of the abundance of the harvest, but tinged with the knowledge that winter is coming. Some Wiccans honor the symbolic death of the God at Mabon (others believe this takes place at Samhain or Lughnasadh). Wiccan Mabon celebrations often include a lot of food, and have a focus on giving thanks for the previous year.

Aside from the sabbats, some Wiccans also celebrate esbats, rituals honoring the full moons. Wiccan authors Janet and Stewart Farrar wrote that, while sabbats are public festivals to be celebrated with the coven, esbats are more private and personal. Because of this, esbat celebrations are typically solitary and vary a lot from one Wiccan to the next.

Further Reading

If you want to investigate Wicca further, there are a few books I recommend depending on which approach to Wicca you feel most drawn to. No matter which approach you are most attracted to, I recommend starting with Wicca For Beginners by Thea Sabin. This is an excellent introduction to Wiccan theology and practice, whether you want to practice alone or with a coven.

If you are interested in Traditional Wicca, I recommend checking out A Witches’ Bible by Janet and Stewart Farrar after you finish Sabin’s book. Full disclosure: I have a lot of issues with this book. Parts of it were written as far back as the 1970s, and it really hasn’t aged well in terms of politics or social issues. However, it is the most detailed guide to Traditional Wicca I have found, so I recommend it for that reason. Afterwards, I recommend reading Casting a Queer Circle by Thista Minai, which presents a system similar to Traditional Wicca with less emphasis on binary gender. After you learn the basics from the Farrars, Minai’s book can help you figure out how to adjust the Traditional Wiccan system to work for you.

If you are interested in Eclectic Wicca, I recommend Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner and Living Wicca by Scott Cunningham. Cunningham is the author who popularized Eclectic Wicca, and his work remains some of the best on the subject. Wicca is an introduction to solitary Eclectic Wicca, while Living Wicca is a guide for creating your own personalized Wiccan practice.

Resources:

Wicca For Beginners by Thea Sabin

Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham

Living Wicca by Scott Cunningham

A Witches’ Bible by Janet and Stewart Farrar

The Study of Witchcraft by Deborah Lipp

[redrosesartcabin]

Self indulgent series part 1

At home where everything seems fine

(Kenji x female reader, first perspective) (This story was originally written for me about me, which is why it’s called the self indulgent series. But because I’ve written so god damn much I decided to edit it a little, edit some things out as well etc and share some of it with you, I hope you’ll enjoy it!)

The horrors were over.

Where day after day, week after week we had to fight for our survival.

It was finally over.

Setting foot on land was a dream come true for us all, though it was also a heart wrenching goodbye as we went off home.

We had longed for home for so long, but we had also found a family in our new friends.

I especially felt that Kenji took the goodbye hard. Maybe even the hardest.

After all this time I knew all too well, that despite all the wealth he has, despite all the things he owns and the comfort he enjoys in life, there was no family he was going home to.

He was an only child with no known mother in the picture and an absent father. It tore me apart as I had to release him from the tight hug he had me in. It was the kind of hug that begged you to never let go. But I had to. My family was waiting. I had that luck.

I turned around with pain in my heart for him but the utmost joy as I saw my parents and siblings with tears in their eyes, seeing their long-lost daughter and sister alive and well.

I felt infinite warmth as they brought me into their embrace and we finally went home.

 Before going home, we had told each other’s socials (none of us remembered our phone number after all that time) so we would stay in touch.

In the beginning we would talk to each other every day whenever possible for us. We all had a hard time especially when it came to getting into daily school life again, since we had to start over with the grade we had already started and thus weren’t with our old friends again, who had on top of that moved on as they had thought we had died and thus it was hard to reconnect.

Luckily, we all somehow found new connections again (many people took pity in us for what we had lived through) and we could move on.

As we did, so did our chatting.

No: of course, we didn’t lose contact. We were all a second family to each other and there was no way in hell we’d ever be able to live without each other ever again. Not after what we’ve been through.

We however lost the need to tell each other every little thing and could live on our own. Much like when a child moves out from their parent’s house. The child is used to seeing their parent every single day so the parents (if they are good parents that is) will feel the need that the child writes them every day and the child will feel the need to write and connect every day. But as they learn to be independent, they will lose their need to be connected to their parent and the parents will start trusting the child and not need them to write every day or all the time.

That was the case with us all: Except when it came to Kenji and me.

 As unbelievable as it would’ve seemed in the past, we both became best friends. We would send each other stupid memes and laugh about animal videos and Tiktok or vine compilations on Youtube, or, on the other hand of the spectrum, we’d talk through the nightmares we sometimes had about what we lived through and the permanent trauma our time in Jurassic World had caused us. Somehow, we felt the most comfortable talking to each other about that as well as laughing about the same things.

We seemed to have a similar psyche, despite him being extroverted whilst I was introverted and him acting like a jerk to appear cool, whilst I would often refrain from talking and try to appear cold so people wouldn’t know who I was.

But on the insight, when you’d look past that outer shell, it turns out we are very similar people with very similar views. Kind of an opposites attract thing where we both had qualities that we both could benefit from and grow together as a person whilst holding the same principals and morals.

Though quicker than I could blink, that opposites attract thing turned into a huge, massive, enormous, gigantic crush.

 I should’ve known that this would happen. Right after I figured it out for myself, I just had to groan. I had always found him very pretty, though I would’ve never admitted that: He had enough of an ego, I didn’t need to feed into that act any more than necessary.

During our adventurous time on the dino-island, I hadn’t had too much time to think about my own feelings. But now that I was safe again in my comfortable home, I had finally realized my dreaded crush.

I didn’t dread it, because it was him. I didn’t even dread it too much because we didn’t live in the same place (though that was quite annoying too). I dreaded it mostly, because of the simple fact that I probably wasn’t his type. And I hated that my first deep friendship with a boy had turned my head upside down after all. But he was just too beautiful not to crush on.

Or maybe I was even in love.

And so, I kept on dreading it, until one crazy day.

 I was exiting my school around lunch time on Friday, idly chatting with a bunch of my newfound friends, when I detected a helicopter on the schoolyard.

“No way”, I whispered

“Might that be your little rich boyfriend?”, one of my girl friends asked me teasingly

“Oh shut it”, I gave her a jab in the side but had to giggle nonetheless.

And indeed, it was him. I mean: What other person would make such a grand arrival on a schoolyard?

Kenji had seemed to have detected me and got out of the helicopter.

“Y/Nnnnnnn”, Kenji yelled, stretching my name as he did

“Kenji!”, I screamed back and ran into his arms he opened wide for a loving embrace.

I didn’t care that everyone was looking or that they thought we both were lovers and that this might be a tad bit embarrassing and overboard: I had missed him too much to give a damn.

“Kenj’ my dude, what are you doing here?”, I asked, getting out of our embrace to take a good look at him. He was well dressed and styled as always.

“Sightseeing”, he answered with a sarcastic undertone which made me raise an eyebrow (I of course knew why he was here, it was a rhetorical question), “…Visiting you of course”, he explained anyways, “can’t I miss my best friend?”, he asked and I could feel my cheeks grow red.

Yes… best friend.

“Of course,”, I smiled back, “I missed you too, ya dingus. Though why did you come with the helicopter? Don’t you think it’s a little…much?”

“Well first of all: No, never. Secondly: It’s faster to fly here with the heli, and thirdly: I talked to your parents and they agreed you can come to my crib for the weekend”

“Really? You’re not messing with me?!”

“I swear”, he said, lifting his hand to make the swearing sign to show his uncrossed fingers, “and if you still don’t believe me you can just check your phone”, he added as he had pledged is truthfulness.

I tucked it out of my backpack and there it was: A message from my mom wishing me a good time over at Kenji’s. Plus informing me she had packed me a little luggage that Kenji already had in his helicopter. I wrote her thanks and a heart before facing Kenji again with a content smile.

“Ok then: What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”, I laughed, “Later you guys!”, I turned around to my friends who were giving me cheeky smiles and a thumbs up.

 The flight lasted three hours in total. Though it felt like no time at all as Kenji and I caught up on things. And even when we were done with that, we found a way to talk about anything and nothing at all or sometimes even just sit there in a comfortable silence and looking out of the window. I had never flown in a helicopter and was in constant awe of it all. Kenji had made a little bit fun of that and called it “cute” which however made me fluster more than anything else. Him calling anything I do cute just made the butterflies in my stomach swirl like crazy.

 We arrived on top of a huge roof that had a designated helicopter landing spot.

“Wow damn. Your house really is big!”

“Y/N: That’s the helicopter Garage”

“WHAT”

As we got out a tall man in a black suit, who carried my luggage, accompanied us through a trap door on the ground down to a huge hall with several helicopters in different colors and sizes.

My mouth was wide agape as I looked at it all.

“And where in the ever-loving f*ck is your real house then?”, I asked

“We are gonna be brought there by the limo in a sec”, he explained as casually as someone saying they were going grocery shopping.

Though that was probably more unusual for anyone in his family than it was for me to drive in a limousine.

 We got out of the garage and waited on a small patio. Only a couple of seconds after we had exited, surely enough, a pitch black, perfectly cleaned limo appeared. A chauffeur exited the driver side opening the door, way in the back, “welcome Sir Kenji and Madame. Please enter”, he said in a very British accent and motioned us to get into the car.

“Wow” is all I could say at first but then could muster up a “thank you” without sounding too flabbergasted.

 The drive from the helicopter Garage to the actual house (if you could call it that) was only a couple of minutes, but boy what a couple of minutes!

I was looking out of the window yet again. This time I was looking at a huge, very well groomed, garden. It had huge rose bushes, ponds with statues spewing water, a maze… just like you’d imagine the garden of a king to look like.

“Kenji: This is batshit insane. You live in a freaking palace!”, I exclaimed.

“Well: Did you think I was exaggerating when I said I was filthy rich?”

“Yes! Kinda!”, I answered, feeling my voice heighten, still not being able to process the sight before me, “it’s hard to believe that people can live like that”.

At that he just laughed, and we kept on just enjoying our company in silence.

 And finally, we truly arrived.

We were let out again by the chauffeur. As I exited, I noticed a red carpet being rolled out in front of me.

I turned to Kenji arching an eyebrow at him.

“A red carpet? Really?”

“What? I just wanted the lady to feel welcome”, he grinned, and I couldn’t but laugh and feel my cheeks redden again.

I everted my eyes from his, because of how flustered I got, but mostly to look at the house… or well: Mansion.

It was a very modern construction. Mostly white and looking futuristic. It was the kind of construction you’d expect a man, owning one or the other huge corporation, to have.

It was almost a disappointing contrast to the old seeming garden, but it was impressive nonetheless. I felt like I had jumped forward in time to the year 2030 or something.

After analyzing the mansion for a bit, we walked towards the dark gray double door that was opened by what seemed to be a sort of butler.

I was now faced with the entrance hall. It was all paved with a grave shiny stone and had a big, golden chandelier on the exaggeratedly high ceiling. In the back of the hall were two gray stairways going up to the left and right with glass barriers. On the front were clothe holders made of ebony wood and hanging hooks made out of fine steel.

“If this visit gets anymore incredible, I’m gonna faint”, I whispered

“Please don’t, ‘cause it will get better, but I’m glad you like it”, he whispered back, and I giggled like a little schoolgirl.

 Honestly, I could go on and on about everything he showed me in that building, but that would probably be twenty pages long, so I’m going to summarize with bullet points:

 ·      The west wing, like in Beauty and the Beast, is off limits: Except it’s because Kenji’s father was working there and harboring some kinda lab or something. A little shady if you ask me but I didn’t further question that

·      The east wing is full of fun rooms: A swimming pool room, a swimming pool patio outside together with a Shakuzi, a small private cinema room and of course, deep down in the cellar (at least he calls it that, for me it feels more like a casino), the bowling alley.

We spent the most time there, playing round after round where I didn’t let him win. Funny enough (though not the haha kind of funny) he almost cried tears of joy as he lost against me

·      The middle part, one could say, had the entrance hall, the kitchen, as well as the living room that had a ginormous couch and a huge 3D Tv with a Nintendo, Xbox and the newest Playstation. We played a couple of games in which I always lost because my parents never allowed me to have a gaming console and thus I was a bit inexperienced with most of the games, except in the case of U-sing: I played that with my ex best friend from primary school when we were little, plus I have a good voice whilst Kenji, well… he could work on his vocals. We however had fun either way.

·      And the third segment is the upper rooms with three bathrooms (one of which was Kenji’s), a spa room, a sauna and the bedrooms (that were strangely far apart from each other. A very bad gut feeling told me, that was on purpose).

 As we arrived in Kenji’s room, I already saw my small red suitcase laying on the white, very comfortable looking carpet. It was one of those carpets with the long white fur like texture. I sometimes wondered what hid amongst the long fur, but knew in Kenji’s case, this room was kept squeaky clean by his father’s staff so I wouldn’t have to worry about that.

‘The guy cares a little I guess’, I thought as my thoughts wandered to Kenji’s father.

 Kenji’s room itself indicated no personality at all. It was extremely odd. It looked like it came right out of a magazine. It had a big bed (usually such a bed a married couple in their 40’s would have), a white, of course, big wardrobe, a black colored dresser with a less impressive, yet still pretty modern Tv and another small dresser beside the bed, that had a very boring looking nighttime lamp on it where you could regulate the light by tapping on the bottom part. And a couple of steps away, parallel to the entrance door, was a big glass wall with an integrated door which led to a wooden balcony that had a small table, two chairs and a sun-umbrella.

‘Or maybe’, I continued the thought from before, ‘he simply cares about his son’s image’.

 “Nice room”, I said, so it wouldn’t seem suspicious that I wasn’t as exited this time about what I saw. But I hate hiding the truth and when I try doing what I hate, I don’t come off as a good liar. So, one can imagine: He noticed my hesitation.

“Is something wrong y/n?”, he asked, genuinely concerned, “is there something in here you don’t like? I can remove-“

“No”, I interrupted him, “there is nothing wrong with it. That’s just the thing: It’s immaculate”

“And why is that… bad?”, he asked a bit confused. Not angry confused, but just plain old confused. I felt sorry for him: I simply just think too deeply about things sometimes.

“It’s not bad”, I answered, “I’d just say its extremely weird: Don’t you have any posters you wanna hang up? Or pictures? Photographies of memories with your friends? Books or magazines you like to have at your bedside? It’s just: You have so much personality, I sometimes fear you’ll implode if you fail to show it even for a second. I can’t imagine that you don’t want to decorate your room in any way at all”

“But what if I do?”, Kenji asked, though his confused expression had turned into a cold glare that made me wish he would look confused again. I felt a lump built in my throat and my heart race in fear. Not because I was scared of him: But more so of what he was trying to hide by pretending.

“Kenji”, I said softly, letting a concerned frown adorn my face, “it’s ok. I’m your best friend. You can talk to me about it. And before you ask: I know what this is all about as much as you know that I know. But I won’t say it because at the end of the day, it’s your choice, but just know: I’m there for you, I won’t judge”

There was a moment of deafening silence as Kenji seemed to contemplate whether he should react defensive and angry, that I brought it up, or tell the truth.

I was glad when I could visibly see his guard drop as he looked at me with saddened eyes.

It was heartbreaking, but I’d rather have that than a stupid fight. I’d rather have that, than him being arrogant and prideful, trying to push me away as he had in the very beginning in Jurassic World.

He sat down on his bed, and I right beside him, looking at him concerned as he stared on the floor.

“You’re right: It is because of my father.”, he began, “You see: He wants me to become like him. Keep the business going. I’m like the first born to a king. And so, he decided there was no room for me to be too much of an individual at some point. He wanted not only the house to always look presentable in case one of his strange buddies appeared, but also for me to start being presentable. It only got worse after I failed algebra. He pushed the role of being him more.

My father might not be the worst: He does gift me a lot of things, makes sure my room is clean and that I get transported to whatever place I want with whatever vehicle I want and buys me whatever I desire. But it’s a disguise, you see? Trying to cover up that I’m just a trophy. Just the predecessor. He wants me to favor and admire him so that I will be him one day. He doesn’t care about me like a dad cares about his son. We are no family”, his voice got quiet as he tried hiding his tears. I said nothing and decided to just embrace him. I felt him become weak in my arms and sob so touchingly, I almost cried with him.

 A few minutes passed before his crying became hiccups and eventually quieted down.

“I’m sorry”, I murmured, “I shouldn’t have brought this up”

“No”, he answered, his voice still veiled in a layer of sadness, “it felt good. I haven’t cried like this in years. Thank you”

“You’re welcome”, I softly spoke back. I was glad he had relieved himself of that sadness he had seemed to hold in. I also immediately felt that this had also been the thing to finally have us come closer.

 After that, we figured we watch something lighthearted to cheer us up again.

It was a rom com called ‘L.A. story’ we both found very amusing.

Though at some point, as the love story came to its highpoint, I noticed my mind drifting away into a side space in my brain, where suddenly the main characters were him and me.

 My cheeks reddened for the third time that day (I almost feared he’d think I got a fever) and I could swear I felt his hand in mine… wait.

Was that real?

My gaze travelled from the screen to my hand and really: His hand was in mine.

Was that an accident or intentional?

‘Screw it! It’s now or never’, I thought as I felt daring for once.

I inched closer and leaned onto his shoulder. My heart was racing a hundred miles per hour it seemed as I waited for what his reaction would be. At first, he got stiff, but then everything happened at once and it happened fast. He lifted his head to look at me and I looked back into his deep, dark brown eyes and in one motion he leaned in and… kissed me.

At first, I couldn’t believe it, I was frozen in place, but soon enough before it could get awkward for him, I leaned in as well. Though I decided to just stay put and let my lips feel his carefully: It was my first kiss after all, I didn’t want to ruin it by getting sloppy.

We staid like that for a couple of seconds before deciding to part.

 “You like me too?”, is the first thing I asked, amazed by what just happened.

“What are you talking about? I’ve liked you since I saw you! You are the one who likes me too”, he answered. My eyes first widened but then I couldn’t but laugh out loud.

“And I always thought I wasn’t your type”, I admitted flustered at his words.

“Really? You are a pretty, talented girl with a super nice personality and you didn’t think you were my type?”

“I mean, I always assumed you’d be more into the mermaid type”, at that he raised an eyebrow and let out a sigh with a single laugh

“You are mermaid enough for me y/n”, he said, cupping my face with his right hand, putting a hair strand behind my right ear, “you are better, even”

...

[ghostplantss]

rant abt les chimères bc i’ve finals + tend to project when i’m anxious

this is going to be perhaps v silly bc i don’t look things up when i’m confused or simply ignorant - i thought the statue of voltaire was an old lady til last year despite knowing full well who voltaire was - i just. i just think delfica really ruins all of les chimères for me. apart from? the final two poems, the jesus one and vers dorés, which seem to be more about truth vs falsehoods and, to me, more a justification for the necessity of the poem anthology as a whole than a continuation of the themes themselves, les chimères’s mostly abt the reconciliation of the past + the present, and, other than delfica, seem to fall into a p nice sort of chronological order from to the initial divorce, eventually, reunion of past and present and future.

i love delfica But just. jsldjfas. i think it just stands out like a sore thumb and i’m not a v observant person you see so it must be a glaring fault. to be fair it was added later into the anthology after it had first been edited out of myrtho, and it’s p obvious why? both how it meshes perfectly w myrtho but also why it was edited out in the first place?

idk i feel like somebody’s said the following more eloquently than i could ever but I’m Mad and I have Finals and i don’t want to think abt finals so i’m Mad.

Anyhow, the chimeres begins with??? Le Descidado? i p butchered that but it opens the anthology with a sense of loss. Not only of the self but of the past, of heritage, and of one’s relation to the past. the speaker starts by identifying themselves as “le prince d’aquitaine a la tour abolie.” without their heritage, abandoned by their “seul étoile, their “fleur qui plaisait tant a [s]on coeur désolé” - perhaps which represents the past to the grapevine’s present but also maybe it just represents his lover who had recently passed away - they are devastated, inconsolable, have lost their identity - “suis je l’amour ou phebus etc etc” -  and still define themselves by the past and by their past actions -“j’ai reve dans la grotte ou nage la sirene”- and although the poem ends on a fairly positive note - et jai deux fois traverse l’acheron/modulant tour a tour sur la lyre dorphee/les soupirs de la sainte et les cris de la fee, and although idk i mean i heard the sainte and the fee being described as religion/mysticism and madonna/whore, to me i think the speaker used to be able to overcome the obstacles that stood in their way btwn themselves and of the past, and they used to be able to balance the past and the present - the saint and the fée - and they, like orpheus, like they had been able to before, hopes to recross the acheron to reunite w their lost love and with their heritage and with the past, but they’re worried they won’t be able to, and that’s why here they makes no promises but, rather, continues to define themselves with their past actions, with their past successes, and anyhow the poem ends, still, with a rather hopeless sense of loss, longing for a past where past and present were united, w the flower and the grapevine still all mangled up on the stupid trellis, with perhaps a tinge of anticipation for the future to, perhaps, revitalize said union

we then move on to myrtho!!! which is such a pretty poem btw the volcano as rebirth motif is just ajdfla it’s this tentative rejoining of past and present, where the speaker rhapsodizes over myrtho and how they themselves’re the child of greece, and they’re connected with their heritage who happens to be represented by an especially pretty enchanteress, and this enchanteress you see has made the volcano erupt again, she’s brought rebirth, and all throughout history the pale hortensia - the past - has united with the green myrtle -modernity- so everything’s alright bc it’s always been alright and the pretty lady’s going to make everything better again

i am not coherent it’s going to be morning soon and my past’s going to reunite w my future and oh it won’t be pretty

poem three i think is. um. OH it’s horus isn’t it??? it’s the best it stands out the most i think from the rest of the anthology bc it’s just so. actiony. it’s v don quixote compared to the normal hamlet vibes. and the change in perspective is just!!! i love it v much. so Isis goes and dumps the dieu kneph who’s honestly been dragging her down. i love the line “l’aigle a deja passé, un esprit nouveau m’appelle” she jumps out the window rides away on a rainbow into the sunset. it’’s the rebirth of the future from the past of france from napoleon it’s v sexy and dramatic

anteros is horrendously unmemorable. but anyhow the speaker’s defined by their past again -vikings/satan/cain/abel - the point is that lost heritage has been found and all is well

let’s skip delfica for the moment and! artemis! here, having traversed the initial loss, a burgeoning hope for the future, rebirth, and finally a reconnection to the past, the speaker has vanished into the vast cycle of death and rebirth, the past, present, and future are all as one, the rhyme scheme of the final two stanzas is a lovely littol ouroboros - ABC CBA - and artemis is just a glorious of celebration of? eternal and anarchic unity, structured chaos, we’ve found the end of the cycle all is well and has always been well or at least it would all have been if it weren’t for delfica

delfica cuts us off before artemis and says um actually the past is lost to us forever. poor daphne presumably stuck in her tree continuously cries out for the unhearing gods who had left her behind, and everything she knew and has once known is gone and sealed away and le sibylle is asleep under the arc of constatin and rien n’a dérangé la severe portique. i suppose the poem leaves the possibility of a reconnection of w the past for the sibylle may perhaps awaken but it all seems so hopeless poor daphne screaming into the void like that and it makes the triumph of anteros feel so entirely empty. i’m not entirely sure how it fits in to the rest of the narrative and perhaps artemis reawakens the sibylle perhaps the chaotic unity of artemis disregards the past in view of future cycles idk i just. alsdfj. it makes the entire struggle of les chimeres feel so futile. to find your identity your place in time a sense of belonging. i just. it leaves me feeling like daphne, rooted in place, crying out into the voiceless past in hopes that some old god might hear me and bear me into the future

[marafisher]

Creating a Consciously Aware Life

  How do you define consciousness? The medical definition of consciousness is the state of being awake and aware of your surroundings. But there is a deeper more symbolic definition of consciousness that transcends the physical and the mental.  The ninety-three-year-old Buddhist Monk and peace activist, Thich Nhat Hanh describes consciousness like a stream or river, it is always continuing and evolving. And like running water there is the shallow surface to the still silence in the depths below. Like many who have studied consciousness in the physical (brain/mind) and its effect on the body and perception, they all have found that you can shift your consciousness once you raise your awareness and focus.

If you think of consciousness as layers imagine the first being that which is more primal or automatic and connects the brain to the body; your physical needs; hunger, pain, pleasure. You are aware if a room is hot and stuffy, if you are nauseated, or feeling relaxed from a massage. This is surface consciousness.

Let’s think of the next layer as your thoughts and perceptions, how you evaluate your experiences and how they impact your decision making. Here lies what you have learned from both a formal education, absorbed from your culture, as well your past experiences and how these affect your emotions. Your emotions and feelings though are liable to be subject to moods of others unless you learn to listen within.

There is another layer. Learning to listen to the awakening of that layer, that transcends all the other layers, this deeper level of consciousness that can elevate your awareness, heal your mind and your body, and bring you a greater sense of peace and joy. Ah, this is what we all want, right? So how do we get there?

For a moment, create in your mind’s eye your favorite place in nature. Whether it is at the ocean hearing gulls and the sounds of waves crashing on the sand, or in the mountains with the scent of pine trees and the moist dirt of a mossy forest, breathe and be there for a moment. Open your eyes and notice how you feel. By bringing your awareness inward, you can choose what it is you want to focus on. This is a step in the direction of creating consciousness. Being aware. If you are meandering through a beautiful park, with the fall leaves surrounding you, yet rather than admiring their beauty you worry about an upcoming business meeting, your mind is not engaged, you’re distracted. Creating consciousness is letting go of those distractions and reconnecting to the quiet within.

Living consciously helps you with negative emotions. It gives you the ability to deal with negative feelings differently, to not be rote with reactions. Creating consciousness builds empathy towards yourself and others, because you have a deeper understanding. Think about when you were four or five, learning to count, then learning to add, subtract, multiply, divide, etc. As your awareness grew, so did your understanding and appreciation for numbers. It is the same with cultivating an expanded life that is fully alive and conscious. And like learning math, it takes practice.

When you are feeling angry, rather than lashing out, notice the anger, shake hands with it, acknowledge it. Then breathe, long slow steady breaths. Make a conscious choice to handle your anger differently, not allowing it to consume you.

Spending time in silence, bringing your awareness to your breath or meditating is a powerful way to increase your consciousness. By withdrawing from outside stimuli on a regular basis you can begin to create a calm interior. Physiologically, when you slow your breath, your body relaxes. Rapid breathing is associated with fear and anxiety. Consciously, focusing on breath, allows you to relax.  When you practice this, eventually you learn to quiet your thinking mind, the one that makes assumptions and passes judgements.

Living with purpose or living fully, is the same as living consciously. Bringing awareness to yourself helps you to be a more loving human being as you begin to see that you are interconnected to all living things. You need the warmth of the sun, the shade of trees, the oxygen from the plants, the love of another. By raising your awareness and centering on the self that is beyond definitions (mother/father, employee/employer) you can tap into the truest essence of you. That spirit or energy that is kind and loving can grow, once you bring your consciousness there and spend time stripped of pretense.

Opening your awareness liberates you from patterns of thought. Thoughts that have biases towards yourself and others. It gives you new perspectives, like wearing a pair of glasses that help you see better. You may not be aware that you treat certain people with disdain, like wait staff at a restaurant or the janitor at your children’s school. When you awaken your consciousness, you may see the humanity in all people. You may get to know that janitor and realize he is an artist or a single father working several jobs to provide for his children. Awakening removes veils allowing you to see the beauty in all things, a flower, an old man, a cloud. It gives you a sense of appreciation for the life that is all around you.

Lastly, living a conscious life is indeed like the stream that flows into the river that eventually finds freedom and flows into the ocean where all embankments and confines are removed. You don’t have to go on long extended or expensive retreats to create an expanded consciousness. You simply have to practice, be fully aware of the beauty around you, take time to notice your child’s sweet chubby hand that brought you a fistful of daisies, or the stranger that offered you a smile. Know that the sweet place of consciousness dwells within you. Listen to Podcasts, read books, find a favorite poet or philosopher, try guided meditations, nourish your consciousness, and then watch it, like the one seed of a sunflower, grow and bloom.

Creating a Consciously Aware Life was originally published on Bridge of Life

[lambourngb]

Get me out of here - places to go when canon is complicated

It’s Day 3, time to celebrate those stories that I turn to when I can’t deal with canon, or when I don’t have the emotional energy to untangle all the emotions I have for what’s going on in canon. Alternative universes, the safe harbor for us. Below are a mix of rewrites of canon, remixes of canon, or out right not even set in Roswell- to fill every type distance you want from canon- from near to far.

The first story I’m reccing is a long one,- so pardon the very long review below.

my love is a life taker by @jocarthage (267,600) So one day, Jessi popped into discord to share a dream she had about timetravel and being able to save yourself in the past basically, particularly Alex getting to give his baby-self a hug, and we all went, “holy shit that’s a cool fic idea please write it!” and really reality sucks right now with quarantine and whatnot, so what better thing to do than follow a WIP? I can’t tell you how badly I needed to something to look forward to as I was staring down a milestone birthday with all my plans in tatters, and this story filled the void.

Okay- now about the actual story itself, the world building about time travel in this is incredible but easy to absorb. Jessi dumps you straight into the action in chapter 1 with Alex, at 28, assassinating an Iraqi intelligence agent in 2009 that averts a bomb that was planned on US forces. You learn so much about both the story-universe and Alex here- one, that even dressed in mask and killing someone, Alex is kind and uses morphine as an overdose and has arranged for his victim’s family to be compensated, you learn that time agents can only visit places they themselves have visited during that time, and Jesse Manes had dragged his son, who was ‘time aware’ to every place of war and ruin on the planet before he was 18 and that, Alex’s victim, even as he’s dying, recognizes what a shit childhood Alex had but that Alex doesn’t.

The next part is where Alex’s time crystal malfunctions, instead of returning him to 2018, it takes him to 1998 where an 8 year old Michael is getting beaten by his foster dad and Alex, out of his time line mysteriously, visible to only Michael, saves him, but only temporarily. We all know with abusers, until you’re out of the house, it’s just a matter of time before the next beating. However, with one act, Alex at 28 starts putting into action (even though he doesn’t recognize it at the time) the steps to save his own life as he works to save Michael from his childhood. Each mission, each jump through time, Alex meets Michael, always a year apart and only for 1000 seconds, or almost 17 minutes. Jessi takes you through some of the darkest points of US foreign policy, only as Alex takes control of his life, he also starts to change the missions, and change the world. The details of places, people, food, etc are authentic from the author’s experience, if you don’t click on the links at the end of the chapters and disappear down google-rabbit holes about the events in history, well- you’re made of stronger stuff than I am.  There are lots of heavy subjects discussed, but there’s always care and honesty behind the intent. The way Michael grows, the way Alex grows, and of course the journey to the present time when they could be together? It’s like pining on steroids but it’s so wonderful. I wish I could pull out one thing that I loved in particular in this story- but it’s impossible, only to say that I love that I could disappear completely within the confines of ‘my love is a life taker’ knowing that I would be kept safe by the author, that goodness prevails.


when I’m oceans away by @neapeaikea (28,000) this is a post-2008 shed canon-divergent AU where Alex Manes, after the best/worst night of his life bolts from Roswell and leaves Michael behind. 10 years later, on the hunt for a child conceived at Caulfield, Michael walks into a youth home in California and finds Alex. A few things, I love that this author writes an Alex who didn’t join the Air Force but still lost a leg, I don’t really enjoy disability erasure in modern AUs (I’m better at looking past that in historical or sci fi aus) . It’s pretty clear after five minutes that the connection between the two men is still there and strong despite anger, secrets and guilt. The teasing and flirting between them is great but so is the acceptance of baring their vulnerabilities. I loved the care they take with each other, and the tie in to an alien child is just so perfect.

Crucibles (series) @ninswhimsy (9,000)- I’m cheating and naming both here, but obviously nin had her finger on the pulse of fandom, by writing crusade-set queer stories before The Old Guard ever boomed into a fandom from the movie. I was lucky enough to trade DMs over the ideas of holiness and the body, and how Alex would have treated himself, certain of his doomed soul, and how Michael would have responded in turn. It’s no secret I love everything Nin writes, but this series stuck in my mind. I will be drifting off to sleep, and think about Alex walking through the ancient city of Aleppo, ready to be done with his burden and Michael there with soft palms and scented oil, and boom! I reach for my kindle to re-read it.

no regrets if we walk this new road by @andrea-lyn (97,000) This author has written so many amazing AUs, some quite far away from canon events like her Mummy AU or her Avengers AU, but I have to say, I have a very soft-spot for this rewrite of season 1 for a lot of reasons. I mean, it’s 2020, so my appetite for Cop!Max is definitely at an all-time low, so the idea of exchanging his job with Kyle’s was extremely appealing. At least Kyle is a POC holding the badge, not a white man like our canon. Anyway, politics aside, this story is special to me for the scorching good Isobel/Kyle relationship that develops, the way Isobel sharpens herself into a lawyer (not an event planner) and how Michael rounds his own edges off in turn by becoming a teacher (and being secretly married).  Each deviation from canon made complete sense once you alter the way Rosa’s death affects the pod squad, and how they covered it up ripples out toward Liz, Kyle, etc. 


Layer on layer, down on down by @dotsayers (9,440) I love sci-fi tropes, especially time-loops, but they are incredibly hard to write (I know, I abandoned mine a while ago) so this story stands out because of just how well done the execution is and also the angst. Michael in a time loop about Caulfield, like how great/agonizing is that? The plot is so good, how it ties into Caulfield and why it happens in the first place, like wow.  The care, and the hurt, and the fatigue that Michael has in this story, oh you just want to wrap him in a blanket. There’s a tiny throwaway line about how one of the first things Michael learned to do in foster care was to make himself heavy and unmovable- and you instantly picture kid!Michael not wanting to be removed from a house - like my heart broke! The structure of the story, with the background of his just how much he loves Alex but how badly it hurts to see him die, really makes this study of 1x12 special. Along with all the angst, there’s tiny gallows humor lines, so am I weird, that I laughed through a couple of these scenes even as Michael kept dying?

Petty pace by @aewriting (11,600) Aewriting has a couple of stellar AUs, so trying to pick just one was difficult, but I rather feel this story is sadly underappreciated it (mind the tags). It was a remix of @iwontbeyourmedicine ‘s fantastic ‘Freaky Friday’, where the humans and aliens swap roles. Alex in the role of Michael basically was something I had never pictured until Ly wrote that story, and now feel utterly changed by it, especially with this backstory- the idea of Jesse Manes bringing a foster child home? Incredibly well done because there’s an off the charts level of menace in this story. The way Jesse watches Alex, who at first mistakes it for how a pedophile might size up a victim, but then catches on quickly that it’s so much worse in a lot of ways. And Alex is such a loner in the beginning, even as he reconnects with his pod siblings Liz and Maria, he’s still planning on keeping his head down and leaving Roswell far behind. Like freedom is literally the only thing he can conceive of for himself, no real dreams outside of that until Michael slips under his defenses. I probably could have saved this story for angst day- because the second half of the story, if you don’t sob while you read it, then I dunno. It’s helpful to read Ly’s story right afterward as a reminder that things do get better for Alex ten years later. In a lot of ways this story is sadder than canon (though there’s no murder of Rosa/4th alien), I’m comforted that at least Alex has Liz in the aftermath, alike in heartache in a way that Michael didn’t have because of the pact he and Max made about Isobel in canon.

Unexpected tidings by @bestillmyslashyheart (24,800) Another rewrite of canon, that explores a couple of very interesting questions, like what would it look like if Michael never made it back to Roswell as a kid but met Alex by chance in 2008? Imagine the cornerstone of the Lost Decade love affair revolving around the mundane questions of a long distance relationship that wasn’t built on the pain of the shed or Rosa’s death? Marlo writes an amazing take on this, that is both real and deep with the normal couple problems, before introducing that spanner in the works of oh yeah, aliens are real. With Michael on the east coast, and Alex finishing off his service in Roswell, Project Shepherd still entangles Alex with Liz bringing him in on the secret in hopes that with his hacker skills he can track down the third alien child that Max and Iz remember so they can warn him. As interesting as the current plot was, I found myself absolutely revitted the slow piecemeal reveals that Marlo doled out about Alex and Michael’s relationship over time. (I also while rereading this recently got very nostaglic for season 1 Alex who didn’t trust Jesse as far as he could toss him.) 

Don’t Punish Me For What I Feel by @winged-fool (3,600) Tarsus IV AU - another wonderful author with a catalog of great AUs, both sci-fi and dark, and honestly it was difficult to narrow it down to one. This story, well in 2009 I was a hard core Trek movie fan, so when I saw a trek-fusion story appear, I knew I would love it just on that basis. The thing is, this gave me Michael as the Captain, a surprisingly rare role for these space fusions, even though genius level repeat offender Jim Kirk and genius level repeat offender Michael Guerin seems pretty married in my mind as a connection. As a Tarsus-like story, all the tags are well earned by the story that Alex finally shares with Michael. It hit on so many levels, the hurt/comfort level for sure, but also to have a story where Michael is this stalwart protector of Alex was really nice to find. 

this isn’t the ‘holiday best friends championship’ by @usbournejez (6,090) alright to leave this on a lighter note, my final AU rec is this masterpiece by Kieran that was part of Malex Secret Santa gift fics- and what a gift it was to all of us! The way she writes established Malex is first-rate, because she always includes their canon-levels of snark/sharpness but it’s never directed at each other and that’s something I love. Here we have Alex, where we learn in just a few short lines, is a huge control freak but has the extremely big emotional handicap, and that’s his love/fondness/deserve to caretake Michael. Emotional cactus Alex who is soft for Michael? Love it. There are small drops of angsty backstory peppered in this, but really that just fuels just how sweet and wonderful the main theme of the story- which is Alex might hate the whole world at large, he loves, protects and worships Michael (and vice versa). As someone who can bake cookies, but that’s about it, I was still enthralled with the baking details and this story has never failed to encourage me to eat dessert before dinner basically. 

[new2otomelol]

Maid to the Rescue - A KBTBB Fanfic

I have not posted in a looong time, but miss it! I will be going back, fixing some of my older posts (fix my writing, lol) I’m still not a great writer and being a teacher takes a lot of work, but this is a nice escape from the world every once in a while. This is for one of the awesome people that have read my stuff and liked it (a thousand thank yous!)

This story is developing and this is the first part. I don’t own the rights to Kissed by the Baddest Bidder, Voltage does. This is a fanfic for fun!

It has been a year since that fateful day in the lobby. God, my life was so different back then. I was always at the beck and call of “the boys” as I called them. My saviors as well as my proverbial pains in the rear. There are times I miss them, and others when I wish we could have all met under different circumstances.

You see, more than a year ago I use to be a maid at a famous hotel called the Tres Spades. A hotspot in Tokyo and one of the many business ventures of my former supposed boyfriend, Eisuke Ichinomiya.

My life was put in danger more times than what I would’ve liked during our pretend relationship; a situation that also opened up backlash from some of the employees at the hotel. Eisuke decided he didn’t want to see me suffer and thus ended our affair in grand-fashion in front of the staff and clients. This gesture alone successfully put an end to relentless bullying in less than a few seconds. 

Even though I completely understood the situation and told myself countless of times that I was fine, it still hurt.  Eisuke and I had gotten close during our time together and even felt like barriers he had put up were beginning to cease. But enough was enough, I was tired of being labeled “plain,” “stupid,” and other things by people. I wanted to feel like a person of worth that could stand on her own two feet. I took Eisuke’s breakup announcement as my chance to run and do what I have always neglected to do, self-care and growth.

That day, I stood up my co-worker on a date, packed my bags with only my essential needs, emptied my savings jar and fled. I tried to be smart about it, ditched my identity, left the money Eisuke had deposited in account untouched, destroyed my phone, you name it.  I knew the boys would eventually seek me out, but I needed time.

I had made a friend  through Chisato who helped me create a new identity and assisted me with finding a small place to live in that was well hidden. Eventually, Gage, as he called himself, had me join a few of his friends. Together we formed a small “gang” of sorts. Our activities may have not always been on the legal side of things, but they are just and necessary. 

We have become a family and enjoy working with each other, but I know that eventually I have to go back to my old life and start anew. I’m no longer that shy girl who followed others blindly and gave up so much of herself. I’m strong, in fact, I always was; I just never could find the time to build my confidence. Those days are gone and I’m ready for what I must face.

I wipe the sweat off my brow as I wait on top of this old, dilapidated roof and stare at my computer screen. Enough reminiscing, time for action. “Siren! It’s time!” I hear the command through my earpiece and enter a code in the computer. “Entered, security systems are down, including firewall. Lucy, begin download.” I give the command and hear “roger!” from my friend Lucy. A beeping sound goes off on my computer 2 minutes later and I know our time is up. “Alright everyone, it’s 2:00 a.m. and as planned they have caught on. My location has been made, initiating cleanup sequence, let’s roll!”

I pull a tab on my computer that I had installed to a small little bomb, which I had put together and crafted into my laptop’s hard drive earlier in the day. My 20 second countdown begins as I reconnect my harness to the rope and slide down to another rooftop across the way. I enter the stairs through the roof access and quickly make my way down. Through the windows of the stairwell. I can see dark figures running towards the building I just had been in. Goodbye jerks! I’m gone and out of sight.

I take dark alley ways and finally make it to my scooter and drive away. I’ve gotten so used to the adrenaline rush of it all that I don’t panic anymore. A few minutes later I make it to the warehouse with all the others. 

“Siren! Great job girl! We got the assholes!” Gage comes up to me and high fives me as I dismount my scooter. I take off my helmet and breathe in the air, letting that wonderful feeling of accomplishment settle in.

“I can’t believe that we were able to pull it off this time! Did Lucy download all the files we needed?” I ask and Gage smiles widely, “that and more my friend. We found that the company has a connection to a crazy cult-like organization called AID. We will unleash the company’s doings to the media and let that fire start and take over. We have finally avenged Nyx!” He starts to do his little victory dance around my scooter as the rest of the gang shows up.

Nyx is a fellow member of ours that had been employed by a major corporation. She was great at her job and handled the accounting for her employer. Unfortunately, the corporation went under new leadership and things went awry quickly. Looking for a scapegoat, they shifted the blame on our friend that we refer to as “Nyx” and she was arrested and charged. Tonight, we took the information we needed to clear her name and set her free.

We all move to the day room area and  take a beer in celebration relaxing on our old worn-out couch. “Siren, I think it’s time for you to also clear your name and face your destiny.” Gage whispers to me as he takes a seat next to me. Of course, the others pick up what we are talking about and quickly get excited. “Yes Siren! It’s time for you to conquer your love!” Lucy states happily. I laugh and throw a pillow at her from the couch. “I know, I know and I feel ready to go back and face it all; but remember, I must do it on my own." 

We continue to talk about plans that we’ve all made since we got to the sanctuary.  Gage is  a computer programming specialist and professor in real life. He took us in, taught us everything we know about computers, hacking, etc. Some of us in the group specialize in other things and so we learned from each other how to fight (thanks to "Net”), weaponry (thanks to “Lucy), languages (thanks to "Nikia”) and the hotel industry/customer relations, thanks to yours truly.

We’ve kept our names a secret from each other in order to teach ourselves to protect our identities. Not once have we ever revealed our real names, except to the professor, Gage. 

Each one of us had a rough patch in life and ended up here. Once we solve our past issues and restore our names, we move on with our lives with the promise to help others along the way. A “pay it forward” if you will.

After an hour of celebrating we begin to head out to go home and rest. Gage taps me on the shoulder and asks me to stay behind to talk. “Lisa, listen, it’s been a year for you already and I agree with the rest of the family, it’s time for you to face your past.” I had a feeling he wouldn’t let the topic slide. “I know Gage, and trust me, I’ve been working on it.” Gage smiles and motions for me to follow him to the kitchen area where he makes some coffee for the both of us. “I’m sure you have researched your friends plenty and have prepared." 

"Yes, I sure have. With the information from tonight, not only do we have evidence to free Nyx, but I have evidence to help out one of my friends and expose some of the corruption in his workplace. I also have found some other information about my ‘ex’ that tells me there is danger up ahead.” Gage sits back and sighs. “Oh sweetheart, there’s so much going on with each one of those men. In fact, I just found out something…” he’s cut off by the sound of the ringer coming from my burner phone. I gasp and look at the professor. “Answer it, quickly!”

Chisato’s ID appears on the screen and I immediately pick up. “Siren! Listen to me please. They’re all gone. Eisuke, Mamo, Baba, Soryu and Ota. We all thought they were on a trip, but it’s been two days!” The news hit me like a cold shower. “Chisato, please, calm down. I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. Take the chip out of that phone, break it and the phone and throw it away. Don’t worry.” The call ends abruptly and I take a deep breath and look at Gage.

“Told you Lisa, it’s time. Do you know who you are up against?” Without a doubt I do. I feel my blood rush and my fists tighten. “Gage, I can do it. The masked man, AID, many of these people that the guys have come up against have one person in common, the Prime Minister.” Gage smiles and leans forward holding my hands. “We’ll help you with the evidence to take him down. Your friends won’t see the connection because they’re dealing with the middle-man again.” “Gage, I don’t want to get any of you in trouble…” he pats my hands. “Lisa, you know we’ll be completely anonymous when releasing the information and helping you. We’ll all be worried about you going in to the line of fire, but you’re the most skilled in sneaking around and fighting. I know you can do this!” The professor stands up, gives me a kiss on the forehead and puts up our empty coffee cups.

“Gage, I can’t ever begin to pay you back for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you, thank you so incredibly much for taking me under your tutelage and helping me grow.” I bow to him and he laughs. “Lisa, you’ve helped many people while being in this group and this isn’t goodbye dear. I may be in my 50’s, but I’m not dying yet.” I laugh and attack him with a hug. “No one will die, I’ll make sure of it.”

He pats my back and releases me from the hug. “Okay sweetheart, go get some rest and get ready, tomorrow is another day!” ************************************ Back in Tokyo…. “Eisuke! Wake up, come on! Shake it off! Damn this shit!” Soryu curses as he struggles against his tight restraints. “S…Sor… what the fuck is going on?” States Baba as he begins to wake up from his drug induced stupor. “I don’t know, but it looks like we were all drugged at the party and here we are. Who the fuck could havd done this?”

“Maybe it was one of your gang rivals Sor” said Ota as he licked his dry lips and shook his head in an effort to re-stabilize his sight. “Not one of mine; this is not their typical ammo.” Rustling noises come from one of the corners of their dark enclosure. “Nah kid, at this stage, it could be either Baba or Eisuke’s enemies. What the actual fuck did they give us? My head is 'bout to rip the fuck open!” Groans come from the center of the room as Eisuke comes to. “What the fuck?” Soryu rolls his eyes, “we just established that part. Do you have any bad deals going on right now? Anything we should know?” Eisuke shakes his head and tries to re-moisturize his dry mouth. “The usual. Maybe that masked freak is at it again? Whoever it is, I wasn’t anticipating this, and usually I can see it a mile away. This is bigger.”

“For sure it wasn’t me. I’ve been in France for a month” said Baba. “Well, whoever the fuck it is, they have a flair for the dramatic. They should have just taken us out of the equation if they were able to get all of us.” stated Eisuke. The lights turned on and the mens’ eyes sting with the introduction of the harsh brightness. “So you are awake, perfect! I’ll notify the boss soon.” Said a man with a familiar voice as he entered the large warehouse area. The men re-adjust their sight and look upon their captor. “I called it! Masked dude it is!” said Ota. “Oh buddy, I’ve been nothing but a pawn in this and will continue to be to fulfill my boss’s every desire. Unfortunately, he’s been a busy body, so I will entertain you until he’s ready. Continue to enjoy your accommodations men, you’re here for the long haul.” The man laughs and quickly walks away leaving the bidders in their metal chairs with what seems to be mechanized handcuffs, the likes they had never seen before.

[skittlewaffle]

No longer participating in “I love ‘@ this’ user” tag games because.,,

1. I’m gonna forget someone by accident and make them feel bad

2. Really not motivated to stay on my phone all day even to type some quick response to being given love

3. (A bit more petty:) The previous people always steal the tags of people I like and I can hardly play -_-

4. Constantly spamming hearts and other emojis is boring / annoying / not fun for me to do.

5. I’m not good at showing feelings in general so I mean you shouldn’t care about my showing you affection anyway

6. This may be self-contradictory, but everyone’s like “Ohh take some time for yourself!! Self love is important uwu” But isn’t that.. selfish?? I’m getting off my devices not to have me-time but to get away from my friends. It’s.. overwhelming?? I have so many now. As much as I love my followers, tumblr / discord fam, etc. and would love to give them time for affection n stuff, I just,, can’t do it right / don’t feel like it. Am I hurting my relationships with them by being inactive?

7. I’m never really in contact with anyone but my tumblr-less friend and his *sighs* mega active and kinda weird (sometimes uncomfortable) discord server. I don’t feel like talking to anyone else despite my longing to make better connections with my current followers / mutuals and reconnect with old friends, irl and online. (That’s one reason I helped make another server but it’s so dead and.. repetitive, that I hardly care to check in anymore despite how great the posted art, stories, etc. are there, along with such amazing people.)

8. I’m just not motivated cause I’m a real suckish friend over all.

9. I seem to drift away from my friends at some point, no matter how close we are.

10. I’m just not down for these ask games from positivity anons that basically obligate me to take time from my day to go to inboxes and give love that I really hate giving / suck at giving. I’m just gonna delete those from now on.

11. I do appreciate when people tag me in reblog games, it gives me some kind of happiness / feelings of acceptance. I’ll let you do that, but please don’t make me play.

12. Uh, I’m sorry. I really do care. Please understand that I just don’t feel right giving something that I’m reminded or told by a chain of posts to give.

13. All this said, I may or may not only leave a like on posts that mention / recognize me as a friend, good person, blah blah blah... I sound like a broken record when it comes to expending energy to come up with a “unique” response in the form of a reblog or reply.

14. I’d better appreciate people trying to have meaningful conversations with me, having a clear reason / goal in mind. I understand being shy but if you don’t think you can ever get through to me, please don’t bother. So many people have done that and only made it awkward. Wasted their breath on giving some kinda “introduction” and started small talk, only for us to have never cliqued. Even people that did get along well with me have awkward moments with me now or we hardly talk. Bad awkward, not good awkward.

15. Also, part of my definition of “meaningful” is this: not trying to reach out to me because you saw this post. Meaningful, to me, means doing it because it’s how you already felt, not because you were convicted here just now. It could serve as a reminder and I’m fine with that, but this post can’t make the decision for you.. just like positivity anons can’t force me to spread joy everywhere.

...Sorry. And please reblog this; I can tell that my followers are seeing my vents if they simply leave a like. On vents, I don’t see the little heart as “I like this!” (thus making users not ‘like’ vents cause it’d be rude in their own eyes) but as “I’ve read this, and I understand,” so please don’t scroll past it without showing me somehow that you at least saw it. I get super anxious if it gets so few notes or doesn’t get responded to. Even a short reply is appreciated. Spread the word, please.

[3wisellamas]

Because literally no one else is ever going to make content for this tiny ship, here’s some Sparrell headcanons.

Deal with it.

-During that brief period where Darrell was working at the bodega he would have felt very out of place, having never really had anyone around that wasn't him or his siblings, and tried to get to know his new coworkers and establish himself ASAP.  Sparko ended up basically being his first ever friend, being one of the few other employees there who hadn't fought and destroyed him in the past, and he especially loved hearing him talk about his school -- not just POINT Prep, but school in general, since that's something that Darrell never got to experience at all, and would be pretty curious about.  And from there they kind of bonded over gossiping about / trash-talking some of Sparko's old hero classmates, like, say, Elodie.

-And on the other hand, I kinda feel like, after getting manipulated (and drugged, let's not sugarcoat it) by POINT and becoming disillusioned on the whole "fancy-pants hero" lifestyle, Sparko would return to Lakewood a little lost, and really looking for a fresh perspective -- suddenly having a straight-up villain around to talk to, and one who's weirdly friendly and genuinely interested in what he has to say, would be a pretty big deal.  He really gets into Darrell's own stories about how fun it is fighting heroes and doing petty evil, and the ones about his big, crazy, complicated, yet loving and ridiculously supportive robot family (he missed his a lot while at PP!)

-Even after the whole reset thing, they both stay in touch as slightly more neutrally-aligned pals, and meet up to chat whenever they can, until they realize their meetings have somehow accidentally turned into dates!

-They are both a TERRIBLE influence on each other.  Sparko's parents and coworkers are very concerned that he's started littering, and wasting water, and even doing the occasional petty vandalism alongside his boyfriend.  And Darrell's family is shocked to find out that he's actually donated (!!) to a charity (!!!!), and has even been doing a few other minor good deeds when he's with Sparko, like cleaning up after said vandalism.

-Darrell's a robot powered by electricity, and Sparko's basically a living lightning bolt.  Think about that for a second.  Their kisses are electrifying, to say the least.  

-They can even boost each others' powers a little via kissing (or just whenever they want, but you know they'd be total dorks about it  ;v; ).  Sparko can easily inject some of his own energy into Darrell's electrical systems to overcharge him (with the side effect of making him super-affectionate just a bonus in this case), and Darrell's figured out how to let some of his glorb's energy leak out into Sparko, resulting in...you know.

-Sparko is FASCINATED by Darrell's brain.  He'll often watch it closely, trying to see if he can catch some of his thoughts forming.  (Darrell doesn't have the heart to tell him it's actually just chewing gum...)

-Together they're good enough to reliably beat Raymond in megafootball!

-Sparko's family loves and accepts Darrell right away, even though his parents aren't so big on his villain lifestyle (they're really worried their son is being "corrupted" into a villain himself).  However, Sparko is TERRIFIED when it's time to meet Lord Boxman.  He's seen the daily plaza attacks, heard his friends' stories about him, knows that he's an extremely dangerous level -10 supervillain who HATES heroes and friendship and love.  He's not prepared at all when the guy turns out to be in the middle of a self-improvement journey, trying to support his kids' decisions and reconnecting with his own hero friend, and accepts him into the family and asks him to call him Dad right away.  It takes several hours for Sparko.exe to start working again...

-Surprisingly, the person who DOES have a major problem with them being together is Shannon -- she didn't get to have a boyfriend, and in fact Darrell was one of the ones so against her being in love with Rad, so why does he get to have one instead?!  But, she starts to warm up to it when she realizes that they do genuinely care about each other, as friends in addition to boyfriends, and that Darrell isn't glitching like she was (at least, not always, with all the sparks literally flying).  She still pranks the shit out of them on their dates, though.

-Since the two tend to be nervous wrecks, they eventually start to pick up on each other's signs that they're about to panic, or situations that make the other anxious, and can help them get through it.  Of course, this doesn't really work when they BOTH have panic attacks at the same time...

-And particularly when Sparko's anxious over exams, Darrell tries to help him study (as best he can, anyway, since he almost never understands the material), brings lots of snacks, reminds him that he probably won't be expelled for one bad grade, etc.  Though he didn't really need much help in that area, his grades definitely improve!

-Likewise, when Darrell moves out to start his farm, Sparko visits him a lot, bringing groceries from the bodega or parts from Boxmore for whatever needs repairs at the moment, and basically keeps him connected to LPT and Boxmore and makes moving so far away from home a little easier.  He's learned a few tinkering skills from his boyfriend, as well as how to operate a tractor, but when it comes to actually planting and growing things he prefers to just watch Darrell work from a distance.

-Darrell actually learned how to cook, so that Sparko didn't have to just get takeout whenever he visited!  He even packs him lunches and sends him lots of vegetables from his farm, after learning those are supposedly good for non-robotic lifeforms.

-He also totally made Sparko a cowboy costume, to match his.  He doesn't understand the cowboy thing at all, but hey, if it makes Darrell happy he'll wear it, though only around Darrell Acres.

-He also does NOT get the hivemind thing at first, and whenever they're hanging out at Boxmore together he gets a little uncomfortable when there's like four or five other Darrells in the room.  He eventually figures out how it all works, but still tends to keep a tight grip on HIS Darrell's hand near the factory floors so he doesn't lose him.  

-Oddly enough, though, he's perfectly fine with Big Darrells.  Sparko finds nothing more satisfying than riding on his level -100 giant robot boyfriend's shoulder while he's smashing the shit out of some rando that gave them lip for being a hero/villain couple.  He even loses an entire hero level from cheering him on!

-They both snack on batteries.  Sometimes there's arguments about whether small but sweet AAAs are tastier than big, juicy 9-volts, though both definitely agree that CR2032s are a delicacy.

-Darrell helped pay for a decent portion of Sparko's college tuition, with some of the profits from his farm.  And at his boyfriend's insistence, he's taken a few business courses at the local community college as well (even if he didn't really need them).

-Later on, Sparko LOVES Robbie and Sara, and tries his best to be a good stepdad/uncle/whatever to them whenever they visit Darrell Acres.

[dear-wormwoods]

–> Playlist: Richie Tozier Tells the Truth <–

I said I would maybe post this today and here I am! Posting something when I said I would! Cutting it close though. 

So this playlist is like... Richie’s life if everything in the story stayed the same except that Reddie actually happened (so it’s heavily Reddie themed, but this playlist narrative does still include Eddie dying... just fyi). There’s an accompanying Eddie playlist that mirrors this one, but I’m not sure I’m 100% satisfied with the order of things so I won’t post it tonight. 

Detailed explanations underneath. Spoiler alert: shit gets depressing.

1. The Barrens: I like starting my playlists with instrumental tracks or something that has limited vocals, and so this was a perfect fit. Moses the Band has an EP that is all about IT, but I’ll have a lot more to say about one I put on the Eddie list. But uh, this does tie in with the final song, Birch Tree, for Reasons. 

2. I’m Good: Richie is super insecure but simultaneously really confident in his interests and abilities, so this is equal parts him actually feeling good about where he’s at and him just trying to convince himself he is. There’s also a good bit in there about being there for his friends.

3. Talk Too Much: Self explanatory. Richie talks too much. But this song is also supposed to kind of fit his Eddie flirtation in their youth - that it’s all meant to come off as teasing, but there’s a secret undertone of seriousness there.

4. Best Friend: For once he stops fucking around and actually admits to himself that he has real feelings for Eddie and it’s not a joke. He wants to say something but doesn’t want to ruin their friendship, the classic trope.  

5. The Less I Know the Better: This song is less literal, but in this context it’s about Richie knowing that Eddie has an idolization crush on Bill and not wanting to know if something is really happening there. He wants to get over his own feelings, but still wishes that Eddie (my love) would look at him that way instead.

6. Rules Don’t Stop: The recklessness anthem. This is after something does happen between him and Eddie, but he’s trying to play it off like it’s less serious than he wants it to be because he’s scared, and knows that Eddie has internal conflict about what they’re doing. 

7. American Money: This one is very much like that idealized vision of teenage love, where everything is new and exciting and feels eternal. This is that brief moment of perfect teen Reddie with love confessions and plans to run away together and all of that good stuff... before life separates them and their families move out of Derry. 

8. Float On: This is when Richie is about to move and is reassuring Eddie that they’ll be fine. Life will go on but they won’t stay apart, everything will be okay. He’s optimistic about continuing their lives together after a year or two of separation, but...

9. Time to Pretend: Now this is the point where Richie’s memories start to really fade. After he moves out to California and starts to get involved in TV/comedy/whatever he ends up doing, he gets pretty easily caught up in that fake, desperate, pseudo-celebrity lifestyle where he’s living way beyond his means and making bad decisions, taking nothing seriously, etc. 

10. Silvertongue: As he’s growing more successful, he’s realizing just how much of asset his ability to talk his way into/out of shit really is. He’s gaining notoriety, making money, fucking around and breaking hearts, and still making bad decisions. 

11. While I’m Alive: At this point, Richie is starting to feel lonely. He’s not making emotional connections with anyone, and something is missing. So at this point he’s living life in the moment, embracing his vices, and neither thinking ahead nor dwelling on the past. 

12. Rest My Chemistry: I think that during his adult life, Richie would dabble too much in the party scene. The book says he’s done cocaine “a few times”, but I think it’d be much more of a Thing if he actually had Eddie at one point and then lost him, but doesn’t remember the relationship - just the emptiness it left behind. The “you’re so young” parts of this song reflect, in this context, Richie sort of remembering Eddie when he’s high - in his mind, he sees Eddie’s face as it was when he last saw him, but he doesn’t remember who this person is at all. 

13. I Have Made Mistakes: This is the “post phone call” song. At this point, Mike has called the Losers back, and Richie is starting to remember the past. He’s recognizing that he has to go face his fears and reconnect with his past, but he’s not sure how he and Eddie’s reunion will go.

14. Strangers to Ourselves: After coming back to Derry and initially reuniting with the other Losers, it becomes clear that the amnesia has affected them all and they’re really strangers now, having lived entire lives without knowing each other. It’s a bittersweet reunion. 

15. Press Rewind: This is like, the Richie Walking Tour song. It’s pretty self explanatory, since Richie is probably the Loser who is most aware that he has experienced a freaky regression since returning to Derry, feeling like a kid again and assuming his same role in the group. 

16. Simple Song: Richie and Eddie finally get some alone time that night and reconnect, things get emotional, Richie is finally able to voice how serious his feelings were when they were younger. They reminisce about the days when they were together, look back on all the years they lost being separated, and start making promises that they’ll stay together when all this is over. 

17. No One’s Gonna Love You: This is the point at which shit starts to go south. They’re headed into the sewers, and the reality of this high risk situation is setting in. Thinking that he might really die down there, Richie expresses his feelings again and his remorse that they weren’t able to spend their lives together. (Sidenote: the torn limb bit at the beginning of this song was a TOTAL accident I’m so sorry lmao, it’s too meta)

18: Carry You: So this is when Eddie dies. While he’s dying, Richie is trying to provide comfort and make him smile, all while making futile promises that they’ll get out of this and everything will be okay. Extra added layer of irony because Richie isn’t actually able to like... y’know... carry him out of the darkness. 

19. Afterlife: This song is symbolic of what I was talking about in one of my other posts, about how Richie is eager to return to his life and forget about Derry and everyone. This is him sort of partly in denial (can we work it out?), partly enraged (scream and shout), and partly asking the universe if it’s actually possible to be okay now. He bounces back and forth trying to process his sudden grief over someone he’d forgotten about for 20+ years, knowing, and hoping, that he’ll be able to bury these memories too. When love is gone, where does it go? Where do we go? In the end, he accepts that going forward will mean that living will be its own brand of afterlife. Nothing lasts forever. (Too meta: this song contains the words dead lights)

20. Birch Tree: So this song is like... meant to be this sort of uplifting epilogue, because Richie does move on with his life, and the memories do fade. He doesn’t fear death anymore, but he’s not sure why. Time will go by, life will fade, and that’s okay now. There is this lovely imagery of the old hometown, Derry, and the river, the Kenduskeag flowing through the Barrens. He’ll go back there, to where he was happiest, when mortality does catch up to him. Eddie will meet him there, and they’ll finally have all the time in the world. 

[ernmark]

I can't shake the thought of peter getting hurt in a way that mirrors juno's eye - like, our sharpshooter lost his depth perception, so maybe down the road our thief looses some fine motor control. Why must these two live such dangerous lives?

I’m gonna take this chance to springboard off one of my really early fics. It’s got some body horror and gore, etc, so the relevant details of that one:

Peter lost his fingers, and he’s gotten them reattached. Now we’re gonna deal with the consequences.

---------

“It’s fine.” It’s too big a lie for even Peter Nureyev to sell, but Juno nods along like he buys it. “Really, safecracking is hardly worth the time you put into it these days. You can get far better results with a rented uniform and a stolen vehicle.” 

He says that, just like he says the nightmares don’t have anything to do with what the Kanagawas did to him. Just like he says that he doesn’t mind having his face plastered all over a public stream for the world to see.

Just like that, his anonymity– his greatest weapon and his most impenetrable armor– is gone. But Peter just smiles cheerfully and shrugs, as if that’s nothing. As if it doesn’t matter. Just like he cheerfully accepts when Juno has to cut his food for him, and dress him, and help him bathe every day until the muscles and nerves in his fingers reattach well enough to do those tasks on his own. The whole time, he’s always smiling, always cheerful, always perfectly pleasant– at least as long as he knows Juno is watching him.

Juno catches the truth in glimpses and flashes: when Peter picks up a glass, squeezing it between his bandaged palms to hold it in place, it’s the way he swears under his breath when it spills past the borders of his mouth and down his shirt. When his back is turned to Juno as he drops the dainty rods of his lockpick kit for the fourth time in five minutes, it’s the frustration and despair reflected in the nearby window. Sometimes it’s just the way his smile sits on his face, unmoving as a mask, when Peter goes quiet for hours at a time.

Juno does what he could. 

He gives Peter his bed and drives him to physical therapy. When the lines of reconnection are still red and immobilized, Juno acts as his hands. When Peter needs time to himself, Juno finds ways to get out of his space. He would have listened, if Peter wanted to talk. He doesn’t, though.

Always the bright, cheerful smile. 

It’s still there when he goes stiff beside Juno, his entire body as tense as if he’d been caught in an electric wire. His fingers– still awkward and unsteady– begin to twitch as his hands fall to coat, to the dozens of hidden pockets that no longer hold anything at all. 

Juno hears it an instant later: the long, cackling laugh of a ringmaster in the throes of a performance. 

Cecil.

Juno’s arm wraps around Peter’s shoulders, ready to hold him steady or pull him close or drag him along in mad sprint. Carefully he turns, putting himself between Peter and the distant sound of laughter. 

“Is it just me or did it get real bright all of a sudden?” he asks, then he takes off his hat and offers it to Peter. “What do you say we get out of this sun?”  

Peter blinks for a moment, startled by the non-sequitur– and then he takes the hat and sets it on his own head, pulling the brim low to hide his face. “Thank you, Juno.” 

“Eh, it looks better on you anyway,” Juno says, and he starts walking again. Not away from Cecil and his film crew– not entirely. He makes their escape at an angle, so he can keep them just inside his peripheral vision until they can vanish into a side street. 

He doesn’t break character until they’ve put three city blocks between themselves and the Kanagawas, and even then it’s only to lower his voice. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“I…” He drifts off, still caught up in his own thoughts. “No, I don’t think I am.”

“I won’t let him touch you,” Juno whispers, intense and sincere. “We can get out of here. We can grab a taxi–”

“No,” Peter says again, but it isn’t the cab he’s shooting down.

Juno stares, feeling helpless, but he holds Peter’s gaze. “Then we can do whatever you want. Just tell me what you need.”

Peter’s hands open and close, the scars along his knuckles tightening as his fingers flex. 

“I need,” he begins slowly, thoughtfully. “... to take things back into my own hands. So to speak.” 

He looks up, and that light in his eyes is even brighter than before, as cold and intense as the desert sun.

“I think it’s high time I did something about Kanagawa.”

And Juno can feel himself standing at the edge of something deep and dangerous. Something that there might not be any going back from.

But in all the months since Peter’s capture, this is the closest he’s ever been to his old self.

And Juno knows what he wants to do.

“What can I do to help?”

[caustic-krana]

We’re finally getting a restraining order against my brother.

So like he has anxiety and he self medicates with weed but he doesn’t really have control and goes way overboard I talked about that before. For a while he was mostly sober but a couple months ago he started ramping back up again. Last time he got kicked to the street was a catastrophe so this time we helped him find an apartment. Try to get him self dependent in a hopefully more controlled environment right?

Well he still kept getting worse and worse with the smoking and he’d go to work out of his mind. I’m pretty sure he would’ve gotten fired from his job if corona hadn’t hit first. So without work to keep him busy and give him his social interaction. He had nothing but free time so he was bored and stressed so all he would all day was just smoke. Weed isn’t a big deal, I won’t pretend like anyone who smokes it is like this, but the amount he had been doing was apparently pretty fucking up there. We sorta kept tabs on him and it was pretty clear his sanity was gone. Apparently he was driving around town recklessly over the speed limit and whenever my dad would check up on him he just kinda talked like a maniac not making sense mood swings etc. The day before Easter we had to call the cops on him. We got a call from one of out neighbors where I guess he had sent them a text that he was gonna shoot up their mailbox. My dad went over real quick and caught him there but he only had like his old air soft guns that he stole from our shed sometime then he sped off in his car. It ended up with him surrounded by a bunch of police cars in a 7-11 parking lot. There was some negotiations and they had to pop his tires and break his window. He didn’t go to jail they just took him to the hospital for a few days. My parents told him either he goes to some kind of rehab or he lives in his car. He tried to negotiate moving back home but still allowing him to smoke but we didn’t have that. After that he told my parents that the reason he was the way he was is that he’s coddled so he wanted to be dependent, cause weed’s more important to him than pretty much anything else even the essentials. So for the past week he’s been on his own but he still like snuck into our yard trying to steal stuff and put glass and eggs in our driveway and some other peoples’ too.

Tonight’s visit escalated into a fight with my dad. He had made a mess of our driveway and my dad made him help clean it up. He got mad and stripped down (no idea why it always comes to this when things get intense with him. He’s got some kinda fixation) They started fighting and my mom called the cops again. I didn’t see anything that was happening outside I only tried to listen. Except when the police got there I went to my window to see and I saw my dad and my brother tangled on the lawn when the cops pulled out their lights. And he’s going to the hospital, again.

Back in high school I pretty much straight up hated him. Then he got better for a bit and I felt sorta bad about that. But we never really reconnected after that. I haven’t said much to him these past few years besides “hi”. It was just kinda awkward tension masked in pleasantry. I thought about opening up to him and working things out but I didn’t have the will power to do anything substantial for basically three years. Nowadays his mind is basically fried and I have no idea if I’ll ever get that chance whether I want it or not. I hate the idea that he’s just kinda rotting away alone but I also haven’t wanted anything to do with him for a long time and still do. I feel bad cause I only want good things for him with the condition that it doesn’t inconvenience me. With his current mental state its hard to distinguish desperation from manipulation cause he clearly needs some kind of support but he just wants to use us and still get his way. More than anything I’m scared cause he’s got this fixation on sneaking around our home. He had an air-soft gun before but I keep thinking what if he somehow gets his hands on something more dangerous.