My Explanation (SUPER IMPORTANT EVERYONE PLEASE READ UNTIL THE END)
So lately life has been shit.
I honestly thought it'd get better so I didn't really say much but it hasn't so yeah. I have boards coming up (common knowledge at this point) and it's so stressful everyday I feel like crying. The teachers scream at you to get out of their classroom if you so much as turn your head to look at the person back of you because I guess they're stressed too over boards.
The amount of homework I have is piling so high it could touch a cloud eveyday I have to complete, what, 5 past papers that each take 1 hour minimum long? There's so much to do and impossible headlines and all the teachers are acting so terrible and strict and every single fucking day I dread entering a classroom.
If I don't do the homework on time a disappointment I'm not taking anything seriously I'm a failure I have 10 papers each 40 questions long to complete in 2 days I can't do it that fast.
To make it worse I barely am at home cuz I'm running around to get my eyes checked, fix my glasses, do the groceries, and other random shit I have no time for.
I stay up to 2 am every night trying to complete everything and my body has taken a toll and I'm starting to get really sick plus my periods have started and the week before I had awful pre- period cramps and my stomach feels like its getting stabbed over and over again every minute of every day.
I'm scared I'm terrified I'm so so so stressed it's all getting to ridiculously large and I shake every time I'm about to enter a classroom because goddamn have the teachers's blood pressure skyrocketed.
That's why I no longer read Aru Shah fanfic or am no longer active on wattpad. That's why I keep disappearing for long periods of time with no explanation and don't have the time to catch up on everything I missed once I come back. That's why I'm so isolated from everyone and no longer deserve the title Archivist.
It's up to you guys to feel whether I should keep the title of Archivist in this fandom or not. Whatever your decision is, I'll accept it and I do understand completely why. I'll just revert back to my og nickname as Sleep because honestly, I need that shit right now.
No, this isn't goodbye, it's just why I'm so unactive and maybe why I'll be a little less online from here. It's why I don't really participate in the discussions this fandom has anymore, and trust me when I say it shatters my heart to be so alone and far away in this fandom. It's hella lonely and sometimes I feel like I should just quit and leave because being left out is my greatest fear. But I won't. At least not yet.
Thank you for reading.
-Your Local Archivist (probably won't be that for much longer though)
52 notes
·
View notes
I HAVE BEEN COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS AND IT'S FINALLY HERE!!!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'd gift you the world as a present but you deserve so much more <333
AAHHHFJSJAKDNDJENSNDNDN THANK YOUUUUU
10 notes
·
View notes
There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.
Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.
“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.
“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”
“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.
He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.
“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.
“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”
“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”
“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”
“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”
“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”
It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.
“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”
Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”
“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.
450 notes
·
View notes