#this is severely disorganized. but I do not care

[anxiety-pickle]

Jade and Aventurine analysis pt 2

bc I have chronic can't shut the fuck up disease

I’ve been seeing a lot of rhetoric floating around that we can’t judge (or even get a good idea of) Jade’s character because she hasn’t had her character’s release yet, which I want to address, and I’m going to do so by comparing Aventurine’s 2.0 appearance and Jade’s 2.1 appearance and related context, and why I don’t think it’s going to be a ‘switch up’ situation

This might also count as a Jade + Aventurine design analysis / theory?? I’ll leave that up to the jury

For some context, I started hsr because of Aventurine in 2.0. I started maybe a week or so before 2.1 came out specifically because I was so interested in his character, and by that point I had already made my determination about his character. And let me tell you I clocked him right off the bat. Not a single part of 2.1 was actually surprising to me (as terribly awful as much of his backstory is) and here’s why:

Aventurine’s first official appearance was his debut in “White Night” which turned out to be a direct parallel to his character arc as well as 2.1’s story, with lyrics such as “you’re hosting / a magic show I cannot escape / there’s nothin’ else left for me to do / goin’ to the other side”. This directly references both Sunday’s use of Order on him as well as him traveling through the Nihility to find Dreamflux reef

More importantly for his character however are the following lyrics “There’s no one else left for me to lose / goin’ to the other side, other side / I don’t want to be alone tonight / I’ll bring to you my best disguise / ‘cause you don’t need, don’t need to know the truth”

It tells us BLATANTLY what Aventurine’s character is - we know everything about him right from the beginning, even if it wasn’t clear that the song was about him

Now let’s move onto his design: This is an even more meta discussion of his character, but Aventurine’s design does a great job of telling us everything we need to know about him. 

Let’s start with the general card motif. The first thing I noticed was the recurring Spade design which is all over his outfit (and later turned out to be the suit that he applies to himself with his shield). In the Tarot deck, Spades are associated with intellect, action, air, and death, so already we have some morbid connotations with his imagery

Next is his general outfit: it’s very extravagant and superfluous; there’s obviously an element of seduction to his design (both with the choker and the chest window), which is likely a reflection of Aventurine’s views towards using himself as a chip (which I’ll get to later). This immediately illustrates to me that he has no problem using whatever means he has at his disposal to do what he needs to, even at risk to himself (which was later confirmed by his language towards himself in 2.0)

Finally onto the choker and the bracelets. Both are inherently restrictive pieces of clothing. The choker particularly calls reference to a collar (you might notice that Topaz, an indentured servant, also has a choker in her design, whereas Jade’s neck is bare). In Aventurine’s case, the bracelets and choker were particularly noticeable to me after Ratio and Aventurine’s staged 2.0 conversation wherein he’s called a “doomed Sigonian thrall” or openly called a “slave” in the Chinese dub

All this is to say, every element of these character designs are thought out and we can glean relevant information from them

Now let’s talk about Aventurine in 2.0

Initially, he deliberately antagonizes himself by playing up his frustration at the Astral Express taking up time when correcting a room-booking issue, and establishes a point of negotiation between himself and Himeko, who he perceives to be the leader

He ends up giving the Trailblazer his room (which he went to great lengths to get) at no benefit to himself - in fact, it’s a very large inconvenience

Multiple times he emphasizes that we, the player, should feel free to “use” him, once again showing he has no regard for his own life at all

The most damning piece of evidence, however, is that Acheron straight up clocks him the second she lays eyes upon him, “There are people who possess unwavering resolution and faith, even unto death, and they do not wield such conviction for good. One who wears a blade must use it to cut eventually. And when a gambler has nothing to lose on the table, he will surely go for broke and bet it all on a final hand.” (The Youths Who Chase Dreams)

In the ten minutes we see Aventurine on screen, he’s already 1) given up his room (to his detriment), 2) used dehumanizing language towards himself and 3) someone else who’s seen him for 2 seconds went wow that bitch looks suicidal (and she was right)

My suspicions were then confirmed by the following conversation with Ratio and Aventurine (which we now know to be scripted)

When Ratio says “doomed Sigonian thrall” we see the camera pan down to the brand on his neck while also showing the discomfort on his face → and to be honest, the sheer amount of people who weren’t immediately aware that the brand represented something dehumanizing at the least was a little surprising to me, because there were no positive connotations (or even neutral ones) in that scene. It made it very clear that it was something bad, maybe something done against his will / was outside of his control

The last important scene in establishing Aventurine’s character foundation is with his conversation with Sparkle (again, the reception to that conversation made me… a little uncomfortable. The way her comments were received freaked me out a little I’m ngl)

She first makes comments about his eyes, so we immediately know that they’re uncommon

She then tells him that Sigonians belong in the sewers (which is a crazy thing to say) and essentially says all of them are liars and thieves, so now we have real in-world prejudice against the planet that Aventurine comes from. Now we can identify the even more specific prejudice that Aventurine’s ethnic group, the Avgin, experience. Sparkle makes it clear that his eyes are distinctive and can be used to identify him as Avgin, immediately thereafter telling him that he and his “thieving people” belong in the gutters

Aventurine also says that the Dreamscape is “frivolous, vain, and flashy - and that suits me just fine” (Gentleness, the Name of Nocturne)

The worst part imo was when she mocks him, “Did you strip yourself naked, apologize to him on your knees, and promise that IPC would never harm Penacony?” (Gentleness, the Name of Nocturne). This remark is exponentially worse now considering his full circumstances, but it was already bad just as it was stated. A lot of people just took this as a joke, but I can read so I didn’t. There is a very clear power dynamic being established here - between Sunday and Aventurine (which ends up becoming relevant in 2.1), but it also establishes that there’s a power imbalance between Aventurine and the rest of the world. It doesn’t help that Aventurine doesn’t say anything to that - he doesn’t even appear offended. I assume that’s hardly the worst thing he’s ever heard said about him. The backdrop of “all Sigonians being liars, thieves, and social manipulators” definitely doesn’t help that either - playing on the assumption that because he’s Sigonian he must also be a whore

So this is yet another instance of someone (Aventurine or other) making a remark about Aventurine using himself as a tool to get what he wants → so, both internal and external instances of people using dehumanizing language towards him

This informs us that both Aventurine, and the world around him, do not value him

All this is to say it should have been abundantly clear to anyone who was paying attention what Aventurine’s character would turn out to look like: he is very clearly posturing through the entirety of the quest, he is very clearly self-destructive, and his self-esteem certainly can’t be very high

And I was right! I was exactly on the money. So now, using what we’ve seen of Jade, I’ll analyze why I don’t think Jade is in a similar situation as Aventurine (or even Topaz)

Now we don’t have nearly as much Jade content as we had Aventurine content at the time I made my determination about his character, but I feel I have enough material to make an educated guess as to what Jade and her motivations actually are. Let’s start with character design

First thing’s first: the snake. This is very clearly a Biblical allusion to the snake and the Garden of Eden. Broadly, snakes are already symbols of trickery, deception, lies, and sin (all of these having culturally to do with the christian hegemony). 

So basically, Jade has THE symbol of sin and temptation

Now, this COULD be a red herring, but so far her actions match up to her motifs - if anything, the snake is a reflection of herself rather than some kind of disembodied act / third-party-manipulation

In her splash art, the snake has an apple in its mouth (representing “sin”) that literally bleeds onto a contract she’s signing. So already we’re not painting a pretty picture here

Back to the jewelry around her neck: her necklaces are in no way as restrictive as Aventurine or Topaz’s chokers. I believe this was an intentional design choice, especially when comparing the “openness” of her outfit to Aventurine’s. Despite his attitude and posturing, he spends much of the quest making defensive gestures (such as crossing his arms or holding his arm behind his back, and largely keeps space between himself and others). He is also almost entirely covered up, aside from the chest window. This could just be due to hyv being weird about women, but I do think there’s something to be said about the relative flowy, open gestures of her outfit - Jade doesn’t dress like a woman who’s afraid

In her splash art, we can see her standing at the bough of a tree (perhaps representing the garden of Eden) and a man crawling towards her, offering jewelry and other valuable items. This man does not seem well, and the audience can extrapolate that he is not doing this of his own free will / there is coercion of some sort at play

Another comparison I’ve seen made of her clothing, and one I have to agree with, is that of a Southern Belle, and given the whip, animations, and the context in which we see her for the first time… let’s just say she’s not beating the allegations

This is a more minor character design choice, but note that her nails are sharp and pointed in her splash art. This is usually done to appear “animalistic” in some way; prescribing nonhuman traits to human characters so that they’re associated with a particular trait. In this case, the pointed nails are likely a reference to either the snake or the “demonic” connotations of “sin”

Her stone itself, jade, has different meanings in different cultures. In Chinese culture it is commonly used to symbolize success, good fortune, and prosperities. In ancient culture it was also believed to connect humans to the divine realm. I find this interesting because Jade herself works as a symbolic “connection” between the rest of the world and Diamond, who might be considered “divine” in some senses as he is an emanator. She says that she is the only person working directly with diamond, so I wonder if her stone was chosen accordingly?

‘Jade’, as in the stone itself, is also a ‘catch all’ term for both nephrite AND jadeite… so, Jade isn’t even an actual ‘designation’ of stone, referring rather to a spectrum of stones. Nephrite and Jadeite can be distinguished by their toughness and translucency. 

It’s somewhat ironic that aventurine (stone) is considered a cheap counterfeit (and Aventurine refers to himself similarly throughout 2.1) meanwhile Jade isn’t even its own individual category of stone. 

Next let’s look at her in the 2.1 plot

The first time we see her, she’s acting as a JUDGE. That is important to emphasize because people consistently downplay her role in his sentencing. I’m not sure why she was acting as a judge in this case (it might have something to do with the massive amount of money and infamy the case caused, or maybe there just wasn’t anyone else with high-enough clearance to take the case, or maybe she expressed personal interest in Aventurine and wanted to hear his piece in person), but she was literally the SOLE acting authority

I’ve already discussed Aventurine’s suspicious lack of legal options, so we know that Jade is basically the only thing that stands between him and literally dying

Immediately, she’s the first thing we see on screen, and she takes up the entire screen - domineering, pushing Kakavasha into the corner even in his own memory. This establishes another very clear power dynamic between them. Jade is sitting above him in her perfectly styled clothing while he stands beneath her in chains. The first thing she says to him is to assign material worth to his body, and goes on to admonish him for killing a slave owner - so, we know whose side she’s on, basically

Granted that Kakavasha basically just “exchanged hands” within the IPC, that’s not surprising that she’d have such a blase attitude

Here, we also see the shift in Kakavasha’s voice - I’m not sure when the change happened, but I do think he ends up mimicking her (both with the hat and the manner of speech). We already know Aventurine has the unfortunate habit of picking things up from the people who’ve hurt him (eg “all or nothing”)

I think it’s honestly a shame that people aren’t willing to engage with Jade’s character as it’s presented because that incredibly unhealthy mentor/mentee relationship is much more narratively complex and imo worth exploring than whatever it is they’re doing over there

Jade clearly has all the power over this transaction - Aventurine makes her an offer, and she accepts, but it was her choice to do so. She could have just as easily sentenced him to death, but she figured that she could get something out of him - notice how her tone sharpened after Aventurine made his wager. As soon as money was on the table, her attitude changed.

So, again, my opinion has been thoroughly substantiated by the way she acts: I think she is sinister and cunning, like Aventurine, but in the opposite way - Aventurine makes himself out to be an incompetent fool to trick others into underestimating him, whereas Jade uses a soft, kind voice to lure others into a false sense of security.

We can’t say for sure how Jade perceives herself, but I think that’s irrelevant to the discussion of her character analysis. By this I mean her motives for doing this seem entirely geared by profit, but the reason she seeks that profit is unknown. Regardless, I don’t think there’s a backstory in the world that could make me “switch up” on her. Now I’m gonna move on to 2.3 leaks so if you don’t want to see those be warned

*leaks start here

I’ve already gone through her eidolons (the clearest reflection of her soul) and they all pretty much just reference her position as a loan shark. So, predatory and exploitative in nature

Jade’s kit sucks HP from her teammates

Being a capitalist parasite is literally baked into her kit that is SO funny

Her skill drains 5% of any ally affected by Debt Collector → if Debt Collector is applied to herself, she does not lose HP but she does not receive the associated buff. So, the opposite of the self-destructive behavior we see Aventurine show (who, in his kit, literally applies a higher taunt to himself so that he’ll get hit more often than his teammates)

She may affect enemies with “blind fealty” which prevents them from attacking

She quite literally profits off of her teammate’s suffering. This is so incredibly funny

As for her light cone: THEY DELETED THE LEAKS I FOUND

If anyone knows where to find them. Please lmk. Everything I could find on tumblr, tiktok, twitter, and reddit is literally gone. I had a post saved from 2 days ago that got deleted. Idk where the crackdown is coming from (especially since Firefly’s animations are completely untouched). Maybe they’re fixing her unrendered-ass animations 

Anyways, from what I remember I think the light cone is called “Hope is Priceless” or something along those lines, which SEEMS like it should have a positive implication about her character, but if anything it feels… ironic? Maybe even mocking? When compared to the names of all of her talents and eidolons. I’m going to interpret that as “hope is a good investment because I pay nothing to achieve it”. We’ll see how that interpretation goes in the next couple of weeks I guess

Anyways, comparing that to Aventurine’s kit, which literally focuses around protection (once again showing the division between his carefree mask and his actual character), Jade straight up stealing her allies’ HP is just. So funny. Like yeah that makes sense. She’s a debt collector. Taking people’s shit is her whole job and she takes that gig seriously

From what I remember reading on her light cone, she was fixing an orphanage (or something like that? A place with a bunch of small children), and I was getting a menacing sort of vibe to it. Maybe take that with a grain of salt because I literally cannot find it to quote right now. And if/when I do I will edit this but it’s literally nowhere

**leaks end here

Notably, we have no leaks pertaining to Jade’s past or anything like that, which implies that it has no bearing on the plot of 2.3. Especially compared to Aventurine’s pre-2.1 leaks. I’m going to go out on a limb here and wager that Jade’s backstory isn’t particularly important to her character - at least, not the way Aventurine’s backstory is important to his character. At the moment, I don’t think her character or the overarching narrative would have anything to gain from trying to make her seem sympathetic, as they’ve done a pretty good job of painting the IPC workers as a morally gray entity between the IP3. You have Topaz, who is happily complicit in colonization - but an indentured servant to the IPC all the same, and Aventurine, who is unhappily complicit (note also that Aventurine was specifically assigned to the Penacony case because his methods are significantly more peaceful than whatever Opal had planned) and who is property of the IPC. From that alone we have a pretty broad gray-space of morality to work from, so I’d prefer if they went even darker with Jade (as far as motivations go).

Basically, you can’t build a villainous corporate entity off of sad backstories alone, and since the IPC references so many real irl corporations, I think it would be kind of strange if they decided to sob-story everything they’re doing away. 

If they were to go down the path which attempts to absolve Jade of her guilt by giving her some tragic backstory, or otherwise shifts the blame of her actions up the chain of command (which also doesn’t really make sense, since that would take away a lot of her autonomy and also the only person above her is DIAMOND), I feel that it would… cheapen her character as well as the story. Gray morality =/= sad backstory!!

I was also a bit confused about why Jade is becoming playable now. Like, we’ve seen maybe 30 cumulative seconds of her onscreen, and we don’t really have many story-relevant leaks right now like we did with Boothill. But Jade actually has a lot of Christian symbolism, which is significant to me because Ena has been associated with Christianity throughout the entirety of Penacony. Now, the snake alone might not have been able to convince me that this was intentional, but the tree/apple/garden of Eden imagery makes it almost impossible that it’s a coincidence. Now, does that mean Jade has connections with the Order? I have no idea, but I do think it’s interesting that she has such strong Biblical imagery right as we’re getting to leave Penacony (and with the Order, an allusion to Christianity and the Christian god)... Maybe she’s intended to be another parallel to Sunday, I can’t be sure yet. I’ll revisit that after her release.

In conclusion critical thinking is a skill and too many people haven’t practiced it

(Sorry for typos/errors/whatever I started drinking halfway through writing this)

[teaboot]

As someone who learnt english as a second language via textbook, I have to say "flying by the seat of my pants" is a hilarious idiom xD

It's the first time I've seen/heard it.

Could you share another one you like using?

Idk about idioms specifically, but there's a bunch of phrases I learned from my mom!

Lord love a duck! (Incredulous, like 'oh my god')

Lord suffer in sheep dip! (Sheep dip meaning sheep poop. Incredulous, but for annoying things- like 'are you kidding me?')

Is there a piano tied to your ass? ('Don't be lazy, do it yourself')

Someone's cruising for a bruising. (You're picking a fight.)

I don't give a rat's rip. ('I don't care'- a rat's 'rip' is it's butt crack.)

Pull up a stump! (Get yourself a chair, sit down.)

Everybody out of the pool! (Get out of the car)

I'm flying by the seat of my pants. (I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing it.)

Don't go blowing smoke up my ass. (Don't over-compliment me, don't flatter me, don't stroke my ego, don't tell me positive lies)

Looks like it's gonna rain on our parade. (A storm is coming.)

Sorry to rain on your parade. (I've given you bad news- can be used sincerely or sarcastically to denote sympathy for incurring a bad mood.)

Better button that lip. (Stop talking.)

Someone's gonna stick a boot up your ass. ('Stick a boot up your ass'- fight you, beat you, kick your ass.)

Stick that lip out any further, and a pigeon'll shit on it. (Stop whining.)

Suck it up, buttercup. (Stop whining.)

Dumber than a fence post. (Very stupid.)

The back forty. (The wild or forested area behind a rural home. The 'forty' being forty acres, or farmland.)

Don't go begging for a fat lip. (Whatever you're saying or doing is going to bother people and get you in trouble.)

What on God's green earth (What the fuck)

I'm sweating like a pig in a porta-potty (like a pig in a plastic outhouse- I'm very warm, it's hot here)

He thinks the universe flew out of his ass. (He thinks he's more impressive than he is.)

Your mouth wrote a cheque your ass couldn't cash. (You promised more than you were capable of providing.)

You've got a horseshoe up your ass. (You're very, very lucky.)

Taking a dirt nap. (Dead.)

Pushing (up) daisies. (Dead.)

Give me forty acres to turn this rig around. (I need time and space to move this large, heavy, or unwieldy thing. Usually about navigating a vehicle. Taken from a song lyric.)

Jesus take the wheel. (God help me, I can't handle this, I give up.)

Gone belly-up. (Has died.)

We've got a floater. (This one is dead.)

Herding cats. (Trying to organize chaos, managing an impossibly complicated situation.)

I've got a black thumb. (I am bad at growing plants, all my plants die- reference to having a 'green thumb', or being good at growing plants.)

Stop trackin' floor cookies. (Floor cookies are bits of animal shit that fall off your work boots- 'tracking floor cookies' means wearing your boots in the house; take your shoes off at the door.)

Running around like a headless chicken. (Frantic, disorganized, stressed out by many tasks or panicked by a big situation.)

Spinning my wheels. (Waiting around for something to happen, getting nowhere, frustrated by inactivity, not making any progress towards a goal.)

He's gonna blow a gasket. (He's going to lose his temper, he's going to be angry.)

They'll tan your hide. (They'll punish you severely; usually through violence. Specifically in reference to a spanking.)

He's a few bricks short a load. (He's not clever / he doesn't think things through / he's crazy)

Not the sharpest tool in the shed. (Not the smartest person. Very dumb, clumsy, or absent-minded.)

I'm not going to bail you out. (Not going to save your sinking boat- not going to help you out of your bad situation.)

Looks like things are going south. (The situation is growing worse.)

I'll start making tracks. (I'll leave now, I'll start working, I'll get going.)

He's fucking the dog. (He's not being productive, he's doing a bad job, he's made things worse, he's screwing around.)

He's making puppies. (Less graphic version of 'fucking the dog'.)

Plant your ass. (Sit.)

Playing grab-ass. (Procrastinating- accomplishing nothing, slowing people down.)

He couldn't find his ass in the dark. (He's stupid, ineffective, underqualified, or incompetent.)

He couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. (He is unbelievably, comically dumb or ineffective. He can't do anything right.)

One foot in the ground. (Dying, or half-dead.)

I'm kicking rocks. (I'm not doing anything productive.)

I'm hauling ass. (I'm running away.)

Madder than a wet hen. (Very, very angry.)

Like I said I'm not sure that these are all idioms but they're all the phrases and sayings from my childhood that I can remember right now

EDIT: Cannot BELIEVE I forgot my mom's favourite

52. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first. (Wishes don't come true by themselves)

Plus some more I forgot:

53. You make a better door than a window. (You're in the way of my view.)

54. You can take a long walk off a short pier. (Go fuck yourself.)

55. He's about as sharp as a bowling ball. (He's stupid.)

56. Scoot your poot. (Move over.)

57. Not my first rodeo. (I know what I'm doing.)

58. He's built like a brick shithouse. (He's broad and sturdy and very strong, solid.)

59. I smell bacon. (I saw a cop nearby.)

60. I don't want to hear a peep. (Stop talking.)

61. You're thinking with the wrong head. (You're making bad decisions because you're horny.)

62. I'd lose my ass/head if it wasn't tied on. (I'm very absent-minded, forgetful.)

63. That went down like a lead balloon. (That situation was bad.)

[perfectlyoongi]

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who bakes cakes with you in the early hours of the morning when the whole city is still asleep. three or four in the morning were sacred hours in your house as autumn approached. with matching aprons and wine glasses in hand, you and Jungkook followed instructions as disorganized as possible, hoping to find some cake batter or cookies in the midst of your laughter. the music played low, remaining completely silent when you and Jungkook exchanged jokes and visions, but always lulling you into a little dance that lasted the entire morning. at six in the morning you sat at the table tasting your creation before saying goodbye and falling asleep in your rooms. “today i want an orange cake. i know it’s late, but do you want to do one with me? i found two recipes that might be good. i’ll even let you have the first slice.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who has a collection of photos and videos of you that you might consider embarrassing. Jungkook seemed to have a certain gift when it came to humiliating you: whenever you were distracted, or too involved in something, Jungkook made a point of saving everything on his phone, creating a folder in his gallery with just your photos. you could say it was a hobby of Jungkook’s that always made him happy, as it was in these more personal moments that your soul truly shined and oh, how he was in love with that light. “you are so done on your birthday. you’ll see, i’ll post the photos i took of you in the car yesterday. you were beautiful. the world needs to see your natural beauty.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who always orders your favorite pizza when he doesn’t feel like cooking. you shared the household chores, it was an agreement that was quickly made by you as soon as you became housemates; but there were days when Jungkook came home more tired, or even after dinner, and there was no desire or patience to cook. as such, Jungkook would order your favorite pizza from your favorite pizzeria and, after paying for it, he would call you over for dinner while he went to bed. in a way, you were always Jungkook’s priority. “hi, the work ran a little late today, sorry. i already called for your favorite pizza and you have the money here. i hope you eat well. i’m really tired. good night, angel. good night.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who buys letter magnets to communicate with you on the fridge when your are mismatched. there were times when you would get home when Jungkook had just left. there were times when Jungkook would go to sleep when you were preparing lunch. there were days when you didn’t even see each other. but as you shared a house, communication was essential to make that experience comforting. so Jungkook bought a large number of colorful magnets in the shapes of letters for you to use as a means of communication. they were only used for basic things, of course, but it was still a very tender gesture on Jungkook’s part. “buy bread. dinner 8pm. seal.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who always gives you a ride in winter, even if it’s just to get bread. Jungkook was so warm and helpful. if you needed something he was there to make sure you didn’t miss anything. and, when the weather was more brutal, with snow and rain decorating the streets, Jungkook always made a point of taking you wherever you needed to go, secretly keeping in his heart all the streets shared with you, shouting the most popular songs in the radio. it could be mere minutes, but it was enough to leave Jungkook completely surrendered to you. “don’t be stupid. with this cold? you may get sick and then what? i don’t know how to take care of myself, let alone you! I’m looking out for your well-being, that’s all.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who plays drunk uno with you on long summer nights. when the boredom was a lot and the nights were too hot, you and Jungkook decided to distract yourself with a simple game of cards. changing some of the rules, you and Jungkook agreed to play several games of uno until one of you was too happy to continue. there were screams and laughter, a lot of cheating and distortions, long nights enveloped in pure happiness and complicity. without there ever being a loser, but also without any winner, you and Jungkook repeated the game on the hottest and most boring nights, each of you needing the other’s presence to make that summer something unforgettable. “no, no! you can’t put a +4 after i told you to take 2! stop being a cheater and accept your defeat. no. put the card back into your deck!”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who declares himself to you when the storm stole all the light in your house. several candles were scattered around your living room in an attempt to bring some comfort in that darkness. sitting on the couch without having much to do, you and Jungkook watched time pass slowly. a long period of silence danced around the various flames, stealing all your comfort and offering Jungkook a small door for him to finally open up to you. and it was when you went to get water that Jungkook followed you to the kitchen and, very confused and nervous, finally confessed to you. “i don’t know if it’s the candles that are making me nostalgic or if it’s really your company, but i want to tell you something. i like you. a lot. i don’t think i should like you this much but i have no control over my feelings for you.”

[pinksobg]

su-su-su-supernova 🌠🎀

What's good is coming next?

I hope you enjoy the reading! for reflection. thank you 🌠🎀🌌

pile 1: hii pile number 1! all good? a moment of stagnation will be transformed. We see here movement in some area that was previously at a standstill, for your good, for your prosperity in an area. other people can also benefit positively from your prosperity, it could be your family, your friends, your partner, your community; with community work or something like that. We see here a movement towards your own prosperity, to fill your own cup, but it also seems that what comes next will also be very beneficial to others. How intriguing, isn't it? It may be your joy that radiates, because you will return to movement in something that was previously in stagnation, which may even leave you in distress previously, or with internal conflict. This joy that you radiate will be good for you and others around you. Amazing! Another case too, this area that was at a standstill, could actually have something in common with serving others too, it could be about spiritual gifts, working in care, treating people with love and kindness, etc.

In short, something will change, a positive movement in something, a snap, an inspiration, a change perhaps in your well-being, in your energy, which will become more positive. Therefore, you will be able to move something in your situation, in your environment and/or in your life that will be very, very beneficial. both for yourself and for others. Congratulations on this great news, pile number 1! Take good care of yourself, stay hydrated, get a good sleep, ask for help if necessary and you feel like it. thank you! 🌷💌

Cards: I forgot to write them, I apologize my pile number 1.

________

pile 2 - woah! pile 2! you probably went through a tower moment, something changed internally and/or externally. We see here that it is a positive change. With the Lovers Card and the 7 of Cups, you will have many options that will sharpen your eyes! I think there are a lot of love opportunities here, perhaps you are or will be arousing interest in several people and soon you will be able to choose. 👀 hmm, interesting.

Cards: the tower, the lovers, 7 of cups.

Anything else? Furthermore, your ideas and mind will be sharper during this period. allowing you more clarity and good ideas, good projects and also providing you with willpower, inner inspiration. Cards: page of wands, king of cups.

Advice: 10 of pentacles, wheel of fortune. truly accept past events in your life, past cycles. With the work of acceptance, your personal prosperity will flourish greatly. So, accepting and letting go really isn't easy, it can take time, practice - but it's something that can be learned, isn't it? Don't give up, good luck on your healing journey. Seek help and inspiration whenever you want. thank you! take care of yourself, pile number twoo. ❤🌷

________

pile 3 - the sun! oh, finally. some weight will be left behind, recentness, hurt, something you've been waiting a long time to release. It's as if things finally fall into place with ease and a weight is lifted from your shoulders.

In the past, you may have had to choose between two things, with the two of pentacles. Your intuition guided you a lot on this path. I wanted to talk more about the positive things, but I was called to attention. Maybe it would be good for you to reflect on something, write about your feelings, your points that led you to the decision you are making/or made at that moment, if it's your case.

The oracle cards tell you:

love surrounds you. The Spirit is there for you.

There is also more advice from oracles, among them, avoid disorganization; If you feel that you are not capable of something or a mindset, improve yourself little by little and believe that part of you is already like that, the way you want to achieve it - and/or "fake it until you make it" kind of thinking if that is healthy for you and do you good in your situation.

Cheers, pile number 3! ☀☀☀ now is the time to feel loved, free, light and supported by the Universe. "Got your back!" ☀🌼🌱

________

[cardentist]

this is all gonna be very disorganized and rambly, but

"the male loneliness epidemic" as a concept is like.

does anybody remember when it was common knowledge in feminist spaces that part of the Point of feminism was recognizing that All groups of people were negatively impacted by sexism?

I Remember the ridiculous "mens rights activist" era. I REMEMBER feminist talking points at the time pointing out that it was Toxic Masculinity that contributed to things like men not being able to be vulnerable with the people who care about them, or men (or Boys) not being taken seriously as rape victims.

and the point of this Wasn't to blame men for their own pain, to blame men for the system that they were negatively impacted by. but to point out how Feminism Was Meant To Help Them. how it was Sexism that needed to be dismantled to address the things that these very ridiculous men were angry at feminism about.

and now it's just like.

not only have people not learned this lesson, it's becoming increasingly Extinct as a concept even within feminist and activist spaces.

I Do find "male loneliness epidemic" silly as a term. it's particularly strange to me that there have been several articles ran about it.

But Ultimately This Would Not Be Necessary If The Climate Was Different.

like. the term is silly, I'm sure the articles are silly. but it is just Objectively True that men are statistically more likely to kill themselves. the exact number fluctuates depending on the study and the years they were conducted, but this has been Consistent for literally decades.

and it just ! feels abjectly cruel to watch people act like acknowledging something Like This is stupid. to watch people lump in men together As A Class and more or less victim blame them.

why should We care about Men when it's Men who are sexist? if Men care so much about being Lonely then then why [screenshot of 4channer]

a conversation on sexism creating a system where men are emotionally isolated, are discouraged from vulnerability, from relying on the people around them emotionally, are discouraged from affection, Is Good Actually.

like ! I really do wish that people didn't take a nose dive into gender essentialism and decide that men and women are just categorically and fundamentally different from each other. that if one suffers then the other must only be the one that inflicts suffering. that to recognize the pain of one is to deny the pain of the other. when that is Literally Not How It Works.

it's not about why Women should care about Men. it's about recognizing a facet of sexism that is negatively impacting PEOPLE and discussing it in the hopes of starting a long term conversation about it. to potentially encourage change and reach the people that need to hear it.

because All People are victims of sexism, All People can enforce sexism, and All People benefit from recognizing these facts and working together to undo the effects of sexism on a wide scale.

and I Dunno. I think it's really telling that some people actively choose Not to show basic human decency and compassion towards people if they can get out of it. if social convention in their circles say that X group of people don't Deserve It.

we live in a time where compassion fatigue is a real issue. where we have to process more atrocities on a daily basis than the human mind was ever meant to handle. but I still feel like human suffering should just like. Matter As A Baseline. it shouldn't be anyone's job to Convince You that it's worth caring about, you should just care about people.

[lostyesterday]

One of my favorite types of relationships in Star Trek are close friendships between characters who are in certain ways exact opposites but who nonetheless get along really well and have found strong common ground on which to base their relationship. Some examples:

Data and Deanna: Opposite relationships to emotion and opposite methods of attempting to understand/connect with other people. Deanna literally senses other people’s emotions and is about as intimately connected with emotion as a person can be, while Data believes he has no emotions and has difficulty understanding the emotional states of others. Despite this, they get along really well and greatly respect each other’s perspective. Part of the reason is potentially because both characters have a strong drive to reach out to and connect with other people, even if their starting points for this goal and their methods of attempting to accomplish it are very different.

Kira and Jadzia: Opposite in a lot of ways, but particularly in terms of their relationships to religion and other elements of their respective cultures. Religion and other aspects of Bajoran culture are deeply central to Kira’s identity and understanding of the world, whereas Jadzia couldn’t care less about religion and has an ambivalent relationship with her own culture. Sometimes, she rebels against it or seems to turn away from it in favor of seeking connections with other cultures (such as Klingon or Ferengi culture). They also have opposite personalities in many ways – such as their opposite approaches to leisure with Kira unable to relate to Jadzia’s ways of enjoying herself. Yet despite these major differences in ideology and approach to life, the two of them spend a lot of time together and are close friends. Maybe this is partially because one thing they do both have in common is a sort of open-mindedness about difference – an acceptance of a difference of perspective as it is without truly resolving it. (Up to a point, of course, especially in Kira’s case, but I do think that the fact that both of them have several close friendships with characters with whom they disagree on a large number of topics indicates that they share this open-mindedness).

Jake and Nog: Opposite life trajectories. They come from very different cultures and are introduced to the audience in opposite ways (as a well-behaved child vs. a petty criminal), but the strength of their connection is immediate and enduring despite all the barriers put between them. What makes the contrast between them extra interesting is how Nog is the one to become a Starfleet officer, and how the contrast between their personalities in later seasons (Nog being rigid and organized while Jake is more relaxed and disorganized) is very much not what you’d expect when you first meet their characters in season 1.

Harry and B’Elanna: Opposite relationships to/histories with Starfleet. Harry is the golden boy – the young prodigy with a bright future who represents the very best of Starfleet and can (supposedly) do no wrong. B’Elanna seemingly failed Starfleet and was failed by Starfleet in every sense. She couldn’t make it through the Academy because she felt like she couldn’t belong there – because she was made to feel that way throughout her life. And yet it’s within Starfleet (at least the make-shift Starfleet on Voyager) that the two of them connect and become friends. And maybe in some ways that’s because you don’t need to go far below the surface to see cracks in Harry’s supposed Starfleet perfection, and also because it takes only the promise of belief and support from a few (including Harry) for B’Elanna to reforge her connection with Starfleet.

Mariner and Boimler: Opposite personalities in basically every way (at least initially). Mariner is bold, rebellious, and reckless while Boimler is a cautious obsessive rule-follower. They approach basically every situation in opposite ways, and yet they are inseparable best friends. It’s interesting to see them both become a little more like each other over time, and maybe that trajectory is partly why they’re so close.

Interestingly, in some of these cases, what initially seems to be a great difference between two characters actually becomes a source of common ground between them – a contrast becomes a parallel. I find this kind of connection between characters who might in theory be opposed to each other very compelling. In a way, characters being best friends despite being really different gets to the heart of what Star Trek, at its best, is about.

[coldresolve]

Moneymakers, pt.xlix // Pinned

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I didn’t hit the heart.

The back tires slide sideways on the road, whining through the corner of an intersection. The sound is soon replaced by the engine accelerating to the peak of second gear. In the rearview mirror, flashing lights momentarily disappear behind the cover of an office building. If Renee keeps hyperventilating, he’s pretty sure he will pass out.

A punctured lung isn’t fatal. He’ll be okay. I didn’t hit the heart.

It feels like he’s running low on adrenaline, or maybe the cumulative stress is finally breaking through the brunt of his body’s defenses in the wake of actually fighting. The pinky of his right hand is either broken or dislocated. He has no idea when or how it happened, but it bends unnaturally at the base knuckle, and he can’t close his hand properly around the steering wheel. The pain there is only just starting to make itself known, and it fades in comparison to his knee, his elbow, the back of his chest just under the shoulder blade where he bumped off a branch in the fall. There’s no way his finger is the only part of his body that didn’t make that fall. The pain is making him sweat.

So much of his headspace is split between frantic self-reassurances and the struggle to stay alert through growing agony, his attention to where he’s actually headed takes on a negligible role. The last wave of the morning rush hour traffic is mostly aimed downtown, so Renee automatically drives in the opposite direction. The main roads alternate between double and triple lanes, giving him plenty of room to overtake, and on red lights, he slips past the queues via turn lanes, barely slowing down to look for crossing traffic. He doesn’t have a plan. There’s what’s directly in front of him, and not much else.

Meanwhile, they steadily accumulate in his mirrors. What started as two by the apartment complex turns into five, six, seven, trickling in from side roads or catching up as the minutes tick by. Four-wheelers and SUVs, or the standard Dodge Chargers. Renee is a good driver, but he knows it doesn’t take much horsepower to keep up with a fucking Clio. When he veers off a ramp to the highway, he doesn’t feel an ounce of relief. Still, he kicks down the accelerator hard enough to make the pain in his leg spike. Every movement feels shaky, disorganized.

I didn’t hit the heart. He’s going to be okay.

His cheeks puff up at several unsteady exhales, and he blinks hard, wiping his forehead. The wind rumbles around the carrosserie. In and out between the commuters. Suburbs make way for scattered woods and fields, and the highway divides to accommodate a wide, grassy median. His pursuiters have kept a relative distance so far, but as the traffic gets lighter further out of the city, they slowly creep up closer. Close enough that he can actually hear the sirens over the Clio’s engine, the tires on the road, the rushing in his own head.

Renee has fled from cops before, but never in a car, and not always successfully. He can’t think. They’ll probably try to pit him. Await the authorization like dogs, and then eagerly watch for an opportunity.

Slaloming between other commuters. He’s going fast enough that the occasional semi doesn’t take more than two or three seconds to pass, and for all he knows, they’re driving the limit. A few tight squeezes rather naturally make him seek out the shoulder, where he can drive unhindered, and he speeds up exponentially – a passing glance in the rear view mirror tells him that at least one of the cops had the same idea before he did. He grits his teeth.

Would they do a pit at speeds this high? Do they even care if they kill him?

Up ahead, a little grey Ford blinks towards a coming exit ramp, turning directly onto his path. They’re not expecting someone overturning from the right, and even when Renee lays on the horn, the driver doesn’t react. To his left, a larger truck is blocking his way, effectively boxing him in. With a hiss, he finds himself forced to brake – but he still closes in on the Ford, tailgating near enough that he’s pretty sure the bumpers come within mere inches of each other.

“Move,” he says under his breath. “Move.”

As he knocks his fist into the horn again, right at the beginning of the exit ramp, the Ford’s driver freaks out. Contrary to any semblance of reason, the driver doesn’t move out of the way – instead, they suddenly slam on their brakes.

Renee barely has time to react to the flash of red light before the Clio rams into the Ford, momentum lurching him forward, halted sharply when the seatbelt snaps taught over his chest. The rebound makes every part of his body scream out in pain.

“Shit! Fff—”

Both cars swerve. While the Ford drifts toward the shoulder of the ramp, Renee’s only focus is to keep himself from overcorrecting as the back tires slide. He succeeds, but only so far as to not crash into the guard rail. By the time he regains control of the Clio, he’s far enough on the exit ramp that any attempt to veer back on the highway would be suicide, so he steadies his new trajectory. Sweat stings his eyes.

The unexpected route starts up circling a large patch of grass, then thankfully merges with another highway running perpendicular to the first. North, south? It doesn’t matter.

As Renee accelerates again, beneath the sirens and the roar of the engine, he starts to hear a faint rumbling sound. He thinks it’s the Clio at first. It’s doing remarkably well, doesn’t drive as though anything major broke in the fender bender, but his eyes still search the dashboard for hints, finding nothing. Meanwhile, the sound grows louder, and takes on a deep, rhythmic quality. It's not until he’s on the next highway proper that Renee realizes, and his stomach drops.

The seatbelt bites his neck as he looks over his shoulder, eyes scanning the sky. It must be behind him or on the passenger side, hidden by the Clio’s ceiling – he can’t see it, but the clearer that sound becomes, the harder it is to conclude otherwise.

They’ve got a fucking helicopter on him.

 Swiveling back to watch the road, Renee locks his jaw. “God,” he wheezes, sound rough in his throat. His breathing has far from settled, and he’s starting to feel a prickle in his limbs. Traffic continues to thin out before him, and the whine of the sirens grows stronger. It’s always the same car in front, a jet black box of a four-wheeler, close enough now that Renee can see the outline of the driver and a passenger, although he can’t make out any details.

Something vibrates in his pocket. Steadying the wheel with the root of his bad hand, he manages to maneuver his phone out without swerving too much.

It’s an incoming call from Davin.

Renee sneers, quickly tossing it in a cup holder.

One patrol car surges ahead, rapidly gaining more and more space in his mirror. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what it’s trying to do, and Renee tries his best to stay directly in front of it, aligning bumper to bumper – when a second cruiser joins in, weighing the odds unevenly.

The one to his right manages to get up halfway beside him, and before Renee knows it, the crush of metal against metal accompanies a swift loss of control, as a Dodge forces the back tires of the Clio sideways. The impact sends it spinning violently, and for several seconds, the world beyond the windows is reduced to a blur of light and shadow, and his knuckles are white against the leather of the steering wheel. Twisting it and sharply tapping the brakes, Renee fights the skidding tires, but the Clio still shudders sideways. The rear end grips the asphalt, halting the spin, but when he finally manages to steady the car, he’s facing the wrong way on the highway, glaring at the steady approach of his pursuers.

As his momentum rolls him backwards, a split second passes in which Renee is paralyzed, watching wide-eyed as flashes of red and blue creep forward with a threatening, relentless thirst. For what feels like an eternity, all he can do is stare, barely comprehending the enormity of his situation.

Without thinking, he yanks the gear into reverse, barely losing further momentum as he slams the speeder to the floor. Several seconds, he stares in disbelief at the swarm of cops on his heel, raspy gasps escaping from his throat. It doesn’t feel real, but somehow, it is.

His heart is racing as, in quick succession, he whips the steering wheel sideways and yanks up the handbrake, locking the rear tires. Rubber burns on tarmac, suspension whining as the Clio pivots on its axis, swaying at the end of the J-turn, when Renee releases the clutch, accelerating as fast as he can to steady the car’s trajectory. In less than two seconds, he’s facing the right way on the road and rapidly increasing his speed again, one gear at a time. Behind him, the cop cars lurch forward on his heel.

Shit, shit, shit.

Staying on a highway wide enough to accommodate a maneuver like that suddenly seems like a terrible idea. The first exit ramp Renee spots, he zeroes in on, air whistling through his teeth.

After a dead intersection, it veers off to a smaller road splitting rows of plowed fields, some of which still shelter patches of snow between the crevasses.  Five, six miles pass without another attempt to pit him, although with almost zero traffic, they’re no more than twenty-odd yards on his ass at all times. As the landscape changes, waving across the horizon, patches of trees becoming more and more frequent, he gets a glimpse of the helicopter, swaying back and forth across the road, field to field, seemingly having trouble keeping up with the pace – because it’s too slow.

Renee knows he needs to lose it, but he doesn’t know how. Part of him is settled in the idea of driving until, magically, some genius solution will spontaneously offer itself up. But it’s been, what, twenty-five minutes, now?

At some point, the cops suddenly shrink in the rearview mirror, distance emphasized by the dust thrown up by the Clio’s tires. Renee should’ve been suspicious, but he isn’t – he feels mindlessly hopeful. Not long after, the phone rings again, hum amplified by the cup holder.

Renee’s eyes snap to it, lips retracted in a growl. “Fuck off. Fuck you.”

It causes enough of a distraction that, although he spots the car parked on the side of the road, Renee doesn’t see the spike strip until it’s too late to dodge or brake. The only thing he has time for is a sharp inhale, and a grip that tightens on the steering wheel.

Two loud bangs and a whole lot of hissing. Running over the strip itself is no worse than a minor speed bump, but the moment the tires are back on asphalt, the Clio begins to swerve. Not violently, but it’s enough to make Renee curse. Steering has instantly gone to shit – there’s a delay between him pulling the wheel and the car actually turning, and when it does, it wobbles in either direction, never quite going where he wants it to go.

They picked the spot well. Less than two hundred yards from the spike strip, the road makes a turn to the left.

He’s sure he brakes before the bend, but the Clio doesn’t fully respond. The front wheels don’t have enough friction with the road to cause a ton and a half of metal to turn nearly enough, and the back wheels can’t slow its momentum. What should’ve been seventy degrees is instead eighty.

The car leaves the road for a short patch of grass, bouncing off the ground so hard, Renee’s seatbelt snaps taught again. In an instant, it breaks through heavy underbrush, narrowly missing the larger trees closest to the road, continuing down a wooded embankment. It’s a blur of jolting movement. A trunk clips down the driver’s side, breaking all windows and shearing off the mirror, altering the car’s trajectory, and the Clio snaps sideways and begins to roll.

Renee loses consciousness.

He thinks he does, anyway, because the next thing he knows, the world is completely still.

Silent, apart from the hiss of snapped hydraulics, the click of hot metal rapidly contracting as it meets the open air, the slow whirring down of a fan somewhere.

He's hanging upside down in his seat, arms hanging above his head, legs resting on the bottom of the steering wheel, struggling to comprehend what just happened. The seatbelt’s pressure on his body makes him breathless as he blinks, sparks dancing across his vision. It feels like his lungs can’t fully inflate, as if the air is barred from reaching further than his collarbones. Blood is quickly rushing to his head, veins pulsing at his temples. Renee let’s out a choked cough, arms swaying with the movement of his torso.

The windshield, almost entirely opaque with cracks, has collapsed and partially dislodged from its frame. All the contents of his car not nailed in place lays strewn about the ceiling. About half a year’s worth of empty soda cans and greasy takeout bags, receipts and tissues and paper cups, all mixed with dirt and leaves and shattered glass, fragments of bark and plastic and twisted metal. Bits of the forest, bits of his Clio.

Turning his head further reveals a space that has caved in on one side. Half the seats are gone, replaced by an almost perfectly rounded door wrapped around the trunk of a tree, from which large wooden splinters look like they’ve exploded into the cabin.

Somewhere outside, sirens approach, the whining noise echoing off the hills.

Renee lets out a small sound, struggling to swallow. He looks down at himself – up, technically.

A branch an inch and a half in diameter has shot through the windshield and now presses against his stomach, just below his ribs. It doesn’t move when he breathes, which is odd. When he wraps his good hand around it and tries to push it aside, it doesn’t budge; instead something warm runs up his chest at the movement, diffused in his shirt. He blinks up at the blood steadily spreading through the fabric. When the muscles of his abdomen flex with an involuntary gasp, he feels a tugging in his back, too.

His back…?

A slow realization makes him dizzy. Blinking a creeping vignette from his vision, he manages to squeeze his hand through the gap between his back and the seat, a movement that feels revolting enough to nearly make him gag. Just next to the small bumps of his spine, his fingers hit something rough again: bark.

The branch isn’t pressed against him. It’s going through him.

Letting out a small sound, Renee lets his arm drop to the car’s ceiling, watches the blood on his hand drip steadily on the ripped canopy. Swallows repeatedly. He’s breathing hard and shallow, wide eyes occasionally drifting to nothing, only to return to focus, with no real rhyme or reason.

He can feel it clearer now. There’s a horrifying pressure in his abdomen, a sense that his insides have been pushed away to accommodate the foreign object. Small twitches of ripped muscle, the harder spasms of a body battling shock, it all writhes around a new axis. The branch carries some of his weight, tugging at his organs. The fact that his lungs can’t fully expand isn’t just in his head – it must be adjacent to his diaphragm, close enough to get in the way of movement.

With as deep a breath as he can mechanically take, he wraps both hands around it, tries to push it out and away from himself. It doesn’t move an inch, and the pain is creeping in, like the corrosive gnarl of an acid, churning its way through his guts. It doesn’t move, no matter how hard he tries to push or pull. He makes a couple attempts to snap it, but even if his arms weren’t so weak, it would’ve been a fool’s errand.

Renee lets out a low groan, cut short when his throat closes up, and drops his arms again, awash with exhaustion and a dawning panic.

Nailed to the seat. He’s nailed to the fucking seat.

Buried somewhere midst the debris on the ceiling, his phone rings. The sound makes him look up – down, whatever – and although he can’t immediately spot it, his eyes catch on the gun lying above the passenger seat, aimed directly out the window.

A grim thought passes through his head.

Reaching out makes his vision darken, raw flesh shifting across wood. The tips of his fingers barely brush over metal, nails tracing the seams to draw it close enough to properly grasp. He lets out a shaky breath when he finally manages to pull it closer, then wastes a precious moment to gather his bearings, gasping in pain. Warm blood trickles up the side of his neck. The gun is heavier than it was five minutes ago.

Renee’s voice is raspy as he groans, shutting his eyes. “F-fuck,” he bites out. A quick heartbeat drums at the sides of his skull. “Fuck, fuck…”

He can hear them shouting in the distance. Barking at the sight of broken underbrush, the trail he left behind.

As Renee tries to lift the gun to his head, he heaves in a breath that sends a sharp jab of agony through his core, triggering a spasm of his body, which in turn triggers another wave of pain. The back of his head bumps the headrest, air blocked as his throat constricts, and both his hands divert, wrapping as best they can around the branch to steady his movement. Still, it takes a while before the pain fades enough that he can open his eyes. Through a haze, his blurred vision locks on his left hand, struggling to grasp both gun and branch in one crooked grip.

Gun, branch.

He’s not thinking through it, and it’s a wonder he doesn’t accidentally send a round going through his own legs in the process. But by some miracle, when he presses the lip of the barrel against the branch, a mere inch or two from his stomach, he awkwardly points it sideways, perpendicular to his body. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to close his mouth before he shoots.

It's an instant, violent jerk of the branch, instant recoil’s lash to his hand, instant ringing in his ears. Renee drops the gun, biting his tongue hard before he shouts hoarsely, lets it echo in his throat for every inebriated gasp that follows. Through a flash of blindness, it takes a second for the world to return, creeping back from the void, only for the dark to linger in his periphery as he manages to look up at himself. He can barely keep his eyes focused.

The branch is shattered, long splinters tracing up the grain of the wood, and the route of the point-blank shot has left a half-cylinder across its diameter, singed black from the heat. More notably, the blast has shattered it in two – the part jabbing through the broken windshield, and the part still lodged in him.

First, a sense of despair, a desire to listening to the voice in his head beckoning to either give up or give in. There hasn’t been hope in this endeavor for a while.

Still, Renee finds himself tucking the collar of his shirt between his teeth, biting down hard as he leverages both hands on the back of the seat. Shutting his eyes, he pushes his body forward, dragging himself off the branch.

He's aiming to get it over with as quickly as possible, but the sheer scope of agony instantly radiating through his body turn his efforts weak, unsteady. Renee is vaguely aware that he’s screaming through the self-imposed gag – at least whenever he has enough air to do so. There’s no words for it, really. It’s pain that reaches a crescendo so high that, like sound, it occasionally slips out of his ability to even sense it. The feeling of blood beginning to flow more freely as the internal pressure offered by the foreign object is reduced. The feeling of coarse and splintered wood dragging through his body a fraction of an inch at a time, hitching on whatever tissue it meets – organs, muscle, skin...

How much time it takes, how long he struggles to free himself, there’s no telling. It feels like an eternity before something gives – with a final, agonizing tug, he falls a half-inch, seatbelt digging deep around one shoulder. The branch presses against the small of his back, still hitched in the fabric of his shirt. Renee is barely conscious when his shaky hand fumbles for the clasp, eventually finding it. The first press is too feeble to release the seatbelt, but his second try is followed by the sound of tearing fabric, and he suddenly crashes down. He lands on his head and shoulder, body flopping sideways once his legs clear the wheel. He’s lying flat on his back on the ceiling suddenly, bits of debris digging in.

Hungry, starving, he gulps down air. Each lungful is marked with some noise or another: a half-moan or a grunt, a whine, a choked-out murmur. Through every spasm of his body, he moves, and eventually ends up on his side in the mess of debris, curling around himself – around the wound, now freely bleeding.

And his phone rings again.

It’s somewhere above his head, buried beneath a handful of leaves and a soda can. Unseeing, he instinctually reaches for it, dragging it down in front of his face as he gasps.

Pressing his good hand to the seeping hole in his abdomen, he lifts the phone to the side of his head with the other, and lets the majority of its weight simply rest there to spare his energy. Part of him starts pitting a sarcastically cheerful greeting against a myriad of insults, but the only thing that escapes his mouth is a half-hearted, raspy sigh.

Davin wastes no time on niceties. “They’re at the spot where you veered off the road,” he says. “The forest is pretty thick, and you can’t see anything from the air. They perk up sometimes, but I think they’re waiting for a canine unit. You need to get going.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Renee lets his cheek rest in the debris. “… bleeding,” he mutters on the exhale.

“Tie something around it.”

He lets out a weak laugh. Immediately frowns, confused.

“More cars are pulling up, man, you need to move.”

The bloodstain has grown under his hand just in that short period of time, slipping down his side as opposed to his chest. His back feels wet, too. “I have… nowhere to...”

“Go in the opposite direction of the cops. There’s a road down the hill. You need another car.”

“… didn’t mean…”

“Are you listening to me?”

Renee blinks. “Y-yeah…”

“Then do as I say, and call me back when you’ve got a car. I’ll tell you where to go.”

The call is disconnected.

Renee swallows. Lets his arm flop to the ground, phone clutched awkwardly in his broken hand. Some distant part of him still capable of humor notes that him feeling drained is getting truer by the minute. The urge to laugh at it, though, is quick to wash clear.

It takes a while, but Renee eventually musters up the energy to push himself off the ceiling. Crawling slowly on his hands and knees, he squeezes out the broken passenger side window, small shards of glass hooking in his shirt, scratching at his skin. His hands sink in the wet earth, leaves and bits of rotting wood sticking to the blood on his palms. It’d be soft to lie down and die in, he thinks, if it wasn’t littered with torn sheets of metal and plastic, or the occasional exhaust pipe.

His eyes distantly drift across the wreckage. The Clio has taken on a new shape, panels dented or ripped off, a wheel or two missing. It’s a brief glance, but he can’t spot a single thing on it that doesn’t look broken. The first thing he bought with his own money is now too tanked to even sell for parts.

Using a tree for balance, Renee slowly manages to haul himself to his feet, an effort that makes the pain in his abdomen flare exponentially, and he shudders. He can’t stand up straight, has to hunch over. His legs feel too weak to support him, but they nonetheless do, albeit shaking with the effort.

Between his shoes, a steady drip of red on the leaves. Pat-pat-pat-pat.

Who’s bleeding faster? Me or…?

It’s the last place his mind should’ve gone. Not now, not when all the barriers are gone.

It seeps into him as he tries to move forward, hands clutching his torn shirt, not putting pressure as much as just guarding. A burning in his throat, and a sense that gravity gets stronger. He hasn’t walked two steps before the pressure in his chest becomes overwhelming, and his legs give out. Painfully dropping to his knees on the forest floor, he clamps a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself from sobbing.

Finally, he lets out a hoarse scream and slams his broken hand into the ground, once, twice, and then a third time in quick succession, until the pain drowns out most of everything else. As he raises his arm for a fourth strike, it’s as if his body’s visceral reaction to the pain, the lingering instinct for self-preservation, becomes a force that physically prevents him from bringing it down again, however much he might want to.

So Renee screams his lungs out instead.

Previous / Masterlist / Next

[voxaholic]

Character Info For My Bojack Inspired Human Au

Hollywood Losers Au

Val & Vox

-Hollywood’s messiest on and off couple of just about 20 years

-extremely codependent: Val makes messes, Vox cleans them up, that’s how they work

-Vox has a shit ton of spyware on all Val’s phones and a tracker on his car and it’s only partially out of insane possessiveness. Vox’s creepy bullshit has saved Val’s life on occasion 

-“Did you hide my fucking guns, Vox?” “Yes! And the fact that you’re even looking for them right now means I’m really glad I did!”

-Met on a set when Vox was still an actor and have been making each other miserable ever sense

-Gossip rags love them. Every piece of info about them is insane

-There are at least three twitter accounts keeping track of whether they are on or off again

-Neither of them would classify the relationship as abusive but from the outside observer, it definitely is

-Val is under the assumption that Vox is happy with their status quo and Vox is, until he isn’t 

-Velvette thinks one of them is going to end up killing the other eventually 

-they get into a lot of very physical fights. Vox usually comes out worse for wear

-see when a person with a disorganized attachment style and someone with an anxious attachment style get into a situationship…

Val

-43 but still lives and dresses like he’s in his early 20s

-semi washed-up actor that got his start on some sort of law and order-esque tv show

-has bleached and dyed his poor hair far beyond repair but it is still hanging in there somehow

-has had six PR managers quit on him over the last year and a half alone

-personal life goal is to do every drug once

-trying to fill the hole in his heart with hedonism. he thinks it’s working (it is not)

-self identified queer icon

-lots and lots of shallow acquaintances/fuck buddies, very few people he would consider close

-interested in the concept of a pet but every pet he’s ever had has either died of neglect or been taken in by Vox

-outward narcissism hides a deep yawning insecurity that he’s not even fully aware of

-self sabotages a lot

-likes to be taken care of and babied but only by Vox

-retweets his own callout posts on twitter (Vox deletes the retweets but screenshots exist)

-afraid of committing himself to anything

Vox

-45 and dresses like it

-greying early (he says it’s because of Val and Val thinks he’s joking. he isn’t)

-officially Val’s agent but also unofficially, his pr manager because every actual hired PR manager keeps quitting 

-a fake bitch who doesn’t give a shit about 99% of people

-unfortunately once he starts giving a shit about someone he can’t really stop giving a shit

-has run several financial scams

-has done so much white collar crime

-gotten Val off for so much shit, like really, so much fucking shit

-briefly a child actor. it ended badly 

-apathetic about most things outside of work but fakes it well enough 

-always has like 18 different side projects going

-wants to marry Val to finally get some sense of stability in their relationship

-a control freak who needs to know what Val is up to 24/7

-the one who cooks in the relationship. he’s not good at it and Val complains constantly about how bland his food is but he still eats it

-has a blue pitbull puppy named Vark who he loves like a son

-he’s THAT type of dog dad

[evergreenalice]

having finally beaten ToTK awhile ago, I feel I can give some thoughts, I have many, but I'll focus on the story right now

my main feeling towards the game is frustration

this game had some of the best scenes in any Zelda game, full stop

Ganondorf's unsealing, fucking banger

the dragon scene? fucking AMAZING

drawing the master sword high up above the clouds? Beautiful

"Remember this name" as the main theme plays in the background, FUCK man

and that was possibly the coolest final boss of any video game I've ever played

but everything else is just... meh

and it's really frustrating, I feel like if given more time to cook, they could've made something really fucking cool

the story was really disorganized, and frankly, I got tired hearing the same thing 4 times, not skipping any of the sage cutscenes in hopes something, ANYTHING, would be different, but they weren't, I was fed the same thing four times!

and ultimately... I wasn't that invested in the story

some say that Zelda has always had bad stories, and this is just false

Zelda has always had relatively simple stories

but I was invested in stopping Ganon in OoT, I saw his impact on the world, and I saw how it impacted characters I'd grown to love!

I was really invested in the story of Link's Awakening, I didn't want the island to disappear, but it had to as sad it was

I think I cried the first time I beat LA as a child

but... here? Meh, I didn't feel the stakes, they were certainly there, but I mean, when it came to viewing the past, I cared about Zelda I guess, I like her, and I mean, the really fucking good scenes in the past are centered around her

I somewhat cared about Rauru and Sonia, but I mean, that was several millennia ago, I don't mourn dead people from the 2nd century much, of course they're dead, it was long ago, perhaps their death was tragic in some way, but, I don't feel that upset at it

and for the ancient sages... not even the writers cared about them! They don't even have names! WE DON'T EVEN SEE THEIR FACES!

and in the end, the most powerful part of the story, a beautiful scene of sacrifice... was just undone

and I'm not saying that Zelda shouldn't have been saved

BUT

let there be consequences

say that perhaps, she is very negatively impacted by her experience, it may take years for her to get over what has transpired. Which isn't impossible, and is still a hopeful note... but there were consequences, ones that will be overcome with great effort, and community, and support

but instead we are left with Zelda as she was... prior to her sacrifice, she doesn't remember it

I'm not saying happy endings are bad, but, a happy ending out of nowhere with no consequences? I don't like that

I grew up playing Zelda, and often these games had a sense of melancholy to them

Link saved the wind fish... and in the process lost that entire island of people, and Marin in particular

Link sealed away Ganondorf, and went back in time to warn the kingdom, and live out his childhood that was stolen to him... but he knows he's not a Kokiri, his identity was false, and he fundamentally, as Saria said, is of a different world from her, there is an innate barrier that will only grow between him and his former home, and in the end he will eventually become the Hero's Shade

Breath of the Wild did this well, it is a game about the aftermath of your failure, Zelda and Link have both lost their past, they can't return to it, they've failed, and time only moves forward, and they do

in all of these cases, it's not entirely negative, there is hope, there is a future

but there's also melancholy, there is loss, and I think that's something that ToTK just couldn't do

[manicpixiefelix]

Ollie and Reader are genuinely baffled by how Felix is managing to pass any classes with how disorganized he is. Getting him to study is like that procrastination episode of SpongeBob.

ADHD!Felix (which is honestly just my version of Felix at this point) is PEAK academic Duality of Man. Despite his carefree attitude, I fully believe he's studying a course he's genuinely interested in (because yeah he's kind of at Uni and at Oxford specifically to appease his parents but he's not a masochist, he's not going to torture himself with a course he hates) (also for Reasons, in h,h,h. and probably all of it's AUs that's Oxford's Philosophy and Physics course) and is considered one of the top students in many of the core subjects, particularly (and surprisingly to many people) his physics/science classes. Something about them just clicks in his brain and the way he thinks about the course work.

However he keeps choosing mostly Electives that his friends are doing that are WAY outside of his degree or any kind of special interest he can relate it back to, so he doesn't have a vested interest in them, and getting him to show any kind of academic commitment to those subjects is like pulling teeth.

He's so meticulous about the notes he keeps on his laptop regarding his core subjects so he can go back to them and look through them, though infuriatingly enough he seems to understand a lot of the course work to the point where he doesn't even have to revise that much for these subjects. Any other subjects however? Has twelve word docs on his laptop called 'untitled' with the most sporadic notes from probably multiple subjects if he has multiple lectures/classes in a day, half the time is making notes on a scrap of paper he'd asked someone for after he arrived late and unprepared to class, and those notes are almost always stuffed in his bag or pockets with little care at the end of class. Several have gone through the wash. His textbooks take at least fifteen minutes to actually find, and even then he has no idea what he should actually be revising.

You know how teacher's reputations get around to students and they warn each other about certain faculty members for certain classes? That's how the Business and Communications faculties especially feel about seeing Felix Catton on the roster for their classes.

[copperbadge]

It LOOKS like I did a lot today...

I knew that I would need containers for various things when I started cleaning this year, but I held off until I could make a list and take measurements; this isn't even all of the containers I need, but it's what I could get from Ikea. Container Store will likely provide the rest but again, I'm waiting until I have a fuller idea of what all I need.

Last year I organized my craft stuff and designated a specific drawer for fabric; that worked well but the drawer got a bit disorganized because it was "one cardboard box with no lid, and fabric shoved into and around it". So I measured the drawer and bought a pair of plastic bins for the majority of the fabric, so now I can remove the bins if need be to get a better idea of what's available. I also found out there's a store in Chicago which takes donations of crafting stuff so eventually I'll destash some of this. I've been trying to use up a lot of it on various projects in the meantime.

[ID: Three images; the first shows a bin full of folded squares of fabric, sitting on top of the shelf, while the next shows one bin of fabric and some loose fabric in a drawer, and the third image shows how the two bins fit into the drawer.]

Another bin I bought from Ikea was a metal basket to contain all my seasonings; this worked well, and allowed me to open up a bunch of space on the shelf they used to sit on for stuff that was on the shelf above it, making it easier to see what all I do and don't have.

[ID: Two images of a white two-section basket split by a wooden handle in the middle; in the first it is sitting on the stove, freshly full of jars of spice and herbs (Marylanders take note: that red lid is indeed Old Bay). In the second image it is sitting on the spice shelf surrounded by other stuff like a box of baking soda and a spice grinder, while the shelf above it is noticeably not super cluttered.]

I also sorted through the spices, threw out some old ones, and identified the jars of stuff I hadn't used much and should use soon. I think I'm going to spend the winter making cinnamon rolls and swirl bread with the vanilla sugar, and make a shitload of taco meat with the fajita seasoning. I'll probably use the cheese powder for mac and cheese, and the Greektown for burger seasoning. Or maybe I'll try my hand at making falafel with it.

[ID: A photo of several jars and packets of seasoning, including Spiced Vanilla Sugar, Romano powder, Penzey's "Revolution" seasoning and "Fajita" seasoning, and a seasoning mix called "Greektown".]

Lastly, to get to $35 and get free shipping, I bought some Ikea "cord caddy" thingys, which you stick to a surface and run your charging cords through in order to keep them tidy. I realize neither of these LOOK tidy but compared to what they were, they very much are.

[ID: Two images; one is of a small portable table that I use for working on my laptop, and shows the caddy holding the laptop's charging cord and a phone charging cord so the table feet stop tangling them. The second image shows a caddy attached to one of the slats of my headboard, through which are threaded a power cord to some remote-control lights, another phone charging cord, and the charging cord for my sleep headphones.]

Listened to about the first forty minutes of the latest episode of Just King Things, about Wizard and Glass, and was gratified to hear many of my own complaints about it reiterated by either the hosts or people they've spoken to. I have started that book so many times and never been able to finish it because I Do Not Care about Roland getting laid as a teenager. So it's nice to get the plot and analysis in podcast form, and now I'll never HAVE to read it.

[cats-are-grey]

FFXXIV Directory - Ley Qunya

Art by @minoruru

Roleplay and Inspiration Blog for Ley Qunya, FFXIV RP character on Balmung (Crystal). Most things are queued. Occasionally NSFW.

Ley is the reclusive and somewhat aloof owner of Spell Bound, a small bookstore specializing in rare, powerful, or lost tomes, for those who know where to look for it.

Carrd Screenshots and Art Prompts and Asks My Art (Coming ... Eventually) Writing OOC Tumblr

Name: Ley Qunya

Age: Unspecified Adult

Nameday: 16th Sun of the 1st Umbral Moon

Race: Miqo'te (Keeper of the Moon)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Demi Bi (Polyamorous)

Relationship Status: It's Complicated

Server: Balmung

Art by @the-sycophant

Appearance: Ley is a fairly unremarkable Miqo'te, aside from the fact that she is nearly all grey. Her hair is well cared for, long and silky and cut in a straight line across her back, the silvery tone nearly identical to her skin. Paler clan markings flow across her body and marks her face, along with a small teardrop shape at her forehead.

Eyes: Grey

Favored Clothing Style: Ley's clothing preferences falls somewhere between Hobo Wild Witch and Dark Academia Prodigy.

Common Accessories: She almost always carries a tome tied to her belt.

Profession:  Rare book dealer. Author.

Hobbies: Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ley reads a lot. What may be less expected is that in her spare time, she finds a decent amount of guilty pleasure in reading romance novels, preferably with an adventure spin. She also plays the cello.

Residence: Gridania, though she spends a decent amount of time traveling

Birthplace: The Black Shroud

Patron Deity: Menphina, the Lover

Spouse: No. Marriage is not a part of her culture and while relationships are not out of the realm of possibility to her, she values her independence and mostly solitary lifestyle too much to give it up.

Children: None, and no plans for that to change.

Parents: She doesn't know her father, but she grew up in a small family clan with her mother and a couple of aunts, who co-parented all the children.

Siblings: Ley has several sisters, and while they don't always see each other a lot, it's not uncommon for them to check in on each other once in a while. She also has a brother she has not seen since he became an adult and left their clan.

Other Relatives: A bunch of cousins she also grew up with.

Pets: While not exactly a pet, Ley is often accompanied by a small faerie named Nox, and a Carbuncle. She also has a silvery Chocobo named Andraste.

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Smoking Habit: None

Drugs: It depends. Not regularly, but she can enjoy certain kinds of drugs.

Alcohol: Rarely.

Spell Bound: Ley runs a small bookstore called Spell Bound, specializing in rare and sometimes dangerous (and sometimes illegal) books, tomes, and grimoires. Appointment required.

Forged in Ink: Ley is a fairly decent forger of books and documents if she can be convinced to take on the work

Wild Steps: Ley's tribe traveled heavily through the Black Shroud, and traded with other Keeper tribes. She may be familiar to other Keepers of the Moon.

I am generally open to RP and connections, but I work a lot so I'm not always around. Contact me here on tumblr or find me in game is the best bet.

I do have a Discord and I do RP on it. I don’t give that information out right away though. I’d like to interact in game or through tumblr a few times before I feel comfortable giving that information out.

Player is +30. I am open to most kind types of RP, but please don't expect immediate romance, Ley is a pretty reserved character.

[selfdestructivecat]

I’ve seen quite a few posts in response to Thomas’ recent video, specifically his year in review. In this video, he discusses the setbacks he’s faced the past few years — such as the quarantine, Joan’s departure, and his own personal doubts and insecurities — and how they impacted the production of Sanders Sides.

And I truly sympathize with him. No, seriously! It’s already difficult to create something this big almost entirely on your own, but I’m sure this year only made things even more difficult. I know I’ve definitely felt insecure to the point of feeling sick when it came to things I created, so I can empathize with the enormous amount pressure he must be feeling.

However, many posts I’ve seen following this video are saying things along the lines of “If people still criticize Thomas after this video, then I’m going to lose it” or “Not that people who criticize Thomas even care, but Thomas really struggled this year. I’m with him all the way!”, or even “I bet SaSi critics will still demand the finale even after this. I doubt they’ll even watch the video!”

I want to clarify that this is obviously not everyone who doesn’t like ts criticism. People who block criticism blogs and/or the tag, who ignore criticism in general, or who feel upset when they see criticism of something they love: this is not about you. You are absolutely valid and entitled to feeling the way you do, and I hope you have a lovely day. Feel free to block me if that would be good for your mental health. Please take care of yourself. /gen

But to those vocally condemning ts critics, I want to make several things clear.

First of all, you are lumping everyone who criticizes the show in with people who demand the finale with no regard for Thomas’ well-being, for the well-being of his crew, and for basic common sense. While many people are upset that the finale isn’t out yet, we aren’t specifically mad that we don’t have a completed video to watch; rather, we are frustrated with what this says about the SaSi crew, their work ethic, and how they treat fans of the show.

We aren’t upset that we can’t watch the finale right now. We are upset that we’ve gotten very few updates about the show during this period between canon episodes. This video provided wonderful insight into why the finale has been delayed, and we would have loved something like this years ago. Obviously it didn’t have to be a 20 minute video, but maybe a Twitter thread? Something small that made us feel heard?

Hell, even announcing an official hiatus would have satisfied the vast majority of critics (myself included), instead of throwing SaSi into this limbo of “Oh it’s going to be finished this year, we promise- oh whoops, never mind! Next year for sure!” It’s been a constant chain of broken promises, and we were more than happy to give the crew some grace the first few times, but after a while, a repeated mistake becomes a pattern. And this pattern is not pretty.

We are upset that the crew seems incredibly disorganized (going back to the lack of updates, and of course taking into account how we haven’t gotten even a single part of the finale in five years), which could affect the quality of this series we all love so dearly. beauty-and-passion has spoken about this a lot (and is a lot more eloquent than me lmao, please go check out their stuff!) The most recent Christmas video seems to demonstrate that the series may be on the right track, and I will admit I was wrong in regards to this video, but the Inside Out video is a mess in so many ways. Even if this doesn’t prove a decline in quality, it certainly indicates a lack of consistency, which can be just as damning for a series.

We are upset that, while SaSi is in this limbo, Thomas seems to have been focusing on his other projects without telling us about this change in priority. He is welcome to pursue other projects, obviously. I’m thrilled that he is having fun with Roleslaying with Roman and My Roommate is Hades. But these new projects have come at the cost of Sanders Sides content, which also points towards a lack of organization. Some clarity towards which projects Thomas chooses to focus on would have been wonderful and greatly appreciated, so that we know not to expect something we won’t receive. And hey, maybe if we knew not to expect SaSi content until much later, maybe we wouldn’t have been constantly asking why we weren’t receiving SaSi content?

(And this is not an excuse for aggressively demanding content, obviously. But I feel like people who are confused and frustrated at not receiving something promised to them are justified in these feelings.)

And maybe we’re jumping to conclusions in many regards. I won’t pretend that we are prophets who can peer into Thomas’ mind and know what he’s thinking and feeling at all times. But it’s pretty damn difficult to say that NONE of the above could suggest that Sanders Sides isn’t held in the same regard as it once was. Hell, Thomas even admits in the video that he doesn’t feel as connected with these characters as he once did.

Second, many people attacking critics are also quick to drag their character. We are impatient, greedy, selfish, and cruel. We don’t care about Thomas; we only care about the end product! More Sanders Sides at any cost! We don’t like critical thinking, since we obviously didn’t watch the video; we only want to find mean things to say about Thomas and the show! We don’t like engaging in civil debate with our fellow Fanders who may disagree with our opinions; we only want to make other people feel bad, and to make others hate the show, too!

Well, guess what? You’re doing to us exactly what you think we’re doing to Thomas: you’re assuming the absolute worst of us and looking for any reason to drag us down.

We are critics. We analyze media (media that we love, mind you) and we acknowledge that it isn’t perfect, that the creators aren’t perfect, and we point it out. But we still love it anyway, because to truly love something is to love it with its flaws, to know that it could be better, to brainstorm how it could reach its true potential, and to keep doing so because you believe in this potential.

We aren’t trying to take away the joy you feel from Sanders Sides. So please don’t try to take away ours.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC Deep Dive

Thanks to @mysticstarlightduck here, @illarian-rambling here,

Rules: answer the following questions for your OCs!

I've already done Lexi, Maddie, Ash, and Gwen for this! Let's do another batch of characters!

It was a mistake doing six characters this time, but the time I realized it was getting too long, I didn't want to individually cut two of them. So this is what we got: a very long post. So it's below the cut.

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

Noelle - She doesn't like her privacy being violated. She wants to keep her things to herself. She also doesn't like crowds.

Rose - She fears that she'll be trapped forever and never accomplish anything.

Kelsey - Accidentally harming her loved ones, specifically her younger cousins

Robbie - He does worry about losing relationships or being lonely, and not being strong enough to protect those he cares about

Akash - Similar to Robbie, but specifically being abandoned or left out

Hye-Jin - she listens to true crime podcasts sometimes so she sometimes becomes a little paranoid that someone's going to break into her house

Do they have any pet peeves?

Noelle - meandering, not getting to the point, excessive brainstorming, illogical thinking, inconsistency

Rose - whenever someone says something a little rude or inconsiderate, especially if they imply she has done something wrong

Kelsey - whenever she's being forced to do something that she doesn't want to do, especially if they're mean about it (if they asked politely she'd probably have done it!)

Robbie - he doesn't like it when people make assumptions about him that aren't true, or make similar assumptions about others that aren't true. Also whenever someone makes a noise during a test

Akash - someone being disrespectful, specifically being interrupted

Hye-Jin - she really likes being acknowledged for her hard work, so if she works her butt off at something, she at least expects a half-hearted "thanks".

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Refraining from sarcasm.... Ahhhh

Noelle - folded laundry, neat small shelf of books, and a desk where she works on her homework

Rose - sketches of outfits she's drawn taped all over the wall, a dresser with a bunch of stickers on it, and an art table where she keeps her supplies

Kelsey - crochet supplies and some projects she's made for herself, a bunch of books on top of her dresser she can read to her cousins, and an oval mirror on the wall

Robbie - probably a basket of clean laundry he hasn't folded/put away yet, a desk where he keeps his laptop that totally isn't disorganized (he knows where things are!!) and a bookshelf with novels and manga

Akash - a mirror that has stickers along the sides, a small bookshelf of favorite books, and a couple sports posters

Hye-Jin - her pet lizard Luna, many shelves and bulletin boards of all the medals and ribbons and other prizes in the same vein, and a very newly organized desk with a lamp

What do they notice first in a person?

Noelle - general demeanor

Rose - what they're wearing

Kelsey - what mood they're in

Robbie - whatever vibe they give off

Akash - figure/outfit

Hye-Jin - height/how pretty they are

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Noelle - 8/10

Rose - 5/10

Kelsey - 4/10

Robbie - 8/10 (only due to powers)

Akash - 7/10

Hye-Jin - 10/10

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Noelle - freeze

Rose - fight

Kelsey - flight

Robbie - fight

Akash - freeze

Hye-Jin - flight

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Noelle - no, it's just her and her mom, but she's definitely a family person

Rose - no to both

Kelsey - yes, she lives in a house with four adults and several young cousins, and she is a family person especially for her cousins

Robbie - not really, it's only one sibling and his parents (+Akash) but he is a family person

Akash - if you count the Staffords he has a decent sized family, and he is a family person

Hye-Jin - she also has one brother and her parents, but she's definitely not super close or anything

What animal represents them best?

Noelle - probably an owl

Rose - butterfly

Kelsey - black cat

Robbie - golden retriever

Akash - I feel like a wolf

Hye-Jin - axolotl

What is a smell that they dislike?

Noelle - lavender

Rose - car fresheners

Kelsey - that rusty old metal smell

Robbie - most perfumes/cologne

Akash - y'know how your pee smells after you have asparagus?

Hye-Jin - cinnamon

Have they broken any bones?

Noelle - no

Rose - yes

Kelsey - yes

Robbie - yes

Akash - no

Hye-Jin - no

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Let's pretend it's a peer from school.

Noelle - “Damn, that girl is tall. I'm a little confused on her name, I've seen her respond to Noelle and Carissa. She really stands out, man, but only due to her height, y'know? Like she's kinda plain looking right? And she seems a little distant I guess.”

Rose - “That girl is always drawing something. I see her talking pretty often though. Like she's reserved but not that shy. I think she's really pretty and has a cool sense of style. I wonder what goes on in her head.”

Kelsey - “Who? Ohhhh, that girl. I don't know anything about her. Like, at all. She's always so quiet and doesn't talk to anyone except that girl Maddie. I think she just wants to blend into the background, but that dorky aesthetic makes her stand out. She pulls it off, though. But I can't tell you anything else.”

Robbie - “That Robbie guy is super popular. Never had a class with him, but he seems nice. My friends say he's super smart. He's also always hanging out with Akash, so he's obviously nice.”

Akash - “Oh, yeah, that kid. He seems cool. He always has a smile on and is chatting with Robbie. I heard him call his chair Ariel so he's probably super feminine or something.”

Hye-Jin - “You mean Reptile Girl? Oh yeah she's a little weird. She makes straight A's and everyone knows she'll be valedictorian. She's also in a lot of school functions. She is certainly something. She always has her headphones on. I've never seen her talk to someone.”

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Noelle - morning

Rose - night

Kelsey - morning

Robbie - night

Akash - morning

Hye-Jin - morning

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Noelle - as a foodie she refuses to say she hates or loves any flavor because they all taste different depending on how much of it you use in a dish and what you combine it with

Rose - hates pineapple, loves pasta

Kelsey - hates avocado, loves cheese

Robbie - hates pickles, loves peanut butter

Akash - hates asparagus, loves berries

Hye-Jin - hates coffee, loves tea

Do they have any hobbies?

Noelle - cooking

Rose - art, specifically fashion design

Kelsey - crochet

Robbie - depends on what his hyperfixation is; robotics, reading, watching TV, acting

Akash - singing, reading, sketching

Hye-Jin - music, puzzles

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Noelle - even if she can appreciate the effort she hates surprises

Rose - indifferent to surprises, but I think she'd cry if she found out someone planned a surprise birthday party for her

Kelsey - eh, not the biggest fan of surprises, but if it was a low-key party she'd be deeply appreciative

Robbie - LOVES SURPRISES! He'd be so freaking happy to learn he has a surprise birthday party!!!

Akash - also loves surprises, just not as excitable as Robbie about it; a surprise birthday party would be dope but he'd see it coming

Hye-Jin - does not enjoy surprises, even less than Kelsey, but she'd be nice about it; she'd probably just be sad that the person who threw the party doesn't know her well enough to know she wouldn't like that, but would try to keep a bright face

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Noelle - just earrings

Rose - yes!!! She loves jewelery, she just doesn't own as much as she wants; usually goes with a chocker and earrings

Kelsey - yep!! When she's older she may dare to get more piercings

Robbie - is absolutely a bracelets kinda guy

Akash - yes, since I'm counting watches

Hye-Jin - yep! Necklace, earrings, and a couple bracelets

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Noelle - neat

Rose - slightly messy, very loopy

Kelsey - not as neat as she wants but not messy

Robbie - messy

Akash - neat

Hye-Jin - neat and loopy

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Noelle - apprehension and confliction

Rose - hope and longing

Kelsey - compassion and worry

Robbie - protectiveness and excitement

Akash - gratitude and guilt

Hye-Jin - enthusiasm and love

Not sure if these are feelings more than emotions but oh well

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Noelle - idk cotton? Polyester? Viscose? She doesn't care

Rose - she has to pick a favorite??? All??? What garment???

Kelsey - polyester

Robbie - cotton or polyester or denim

Akash - viscose and cotton

Hye-Jin - chiffon

Idk I just picked mainly what I see them wearing

What kind of accent do they have?

I'll provide where they grew up and also their parents or other languages they know that could influence their way of pronouncing certain phonemes. Hopefully that gives an idea. Most of their parents are Alii (weird exceptions, don't make me explain) but I'll give the accent closest to what their accents would sound like.

Noelle - from suburban Houston area but also only with her mom, who has what to our ears sounds like an English accent

Rose - also from suburban Houston area, is bilingual and speaks Spanish (Mexican dialect) at home

Kelsey - from suburban Houston area and parents are also from there

Robbie - from suburban Dallas-Fort Worth area, parents have what is close to English and German accents, bilingual as he does know "Alii German"

Akash - from suburban Dallas-Fort Worth area, bilingual and speaks Hindi with his mom

Hye-Jin - from suburban Houston area, she's bilingual as her parents are "Alii Korean" and speak that language

Damn, that was a lot. Sorry bout that

✨Noelle intro✨

✨Rose intro✨

✨Kelsey intro✨

Other Robbie: OC in three, OC in fifteen, Picrew, outfit, two truths and a lie, questionnaire one, questionnaire two, fun facts

Other Akash: OC in three, OC in fifteen, interview, Picrew, two truths and a lie, kiss, outfit, fun facts, questionnaire one, questionnaire two, questionnaire three

Other Hye-Jin: OC in three, questionnaire one, questionnaire two, bingo, origin, fun facts, outfit

I'll tag @tabswrites @novel-nook-blog @authorcoledipalo @theeccentricraven @willtheweaver

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

Blank questions:

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Do they have any pet peeves? What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? What do they notice first in a person? On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?What animal represents them best? What is a smell that they dislike? Have they broken any bones? How would a stranger likely describe them? Are they a night owl or a morning bird? What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Do they have any hobbies? Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Do they like to wear jewelry?Do they have neat or messy handwriting? What are the two emotions they feel the most? Do they have a favorite fabric?What kind of accent do they have?

[sunnygrey99]

Honey, Smoke, Lemon, and Oak Pt 3

~Trigger Warning: Typical TLOU warnings. Self Harm, suicidal tendencies, severe mental illness, PTSD, gore, psychological torture, slight implications of previous abuse/SA (minors DNI) If any other Triggers apply please let me know.~

Story Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Violence, Murder, Death, Smut

A/N: This is a rough chapter. I'm trying to be as accurate to an unpredictable mental illness as I can be. As someone who suffers from severe mental illness I do not take it lightly. Please if you are suffering or need help Tumblr offers resources that can really help.

Wordcount: 2,546

Summary: Plus size!Reader is a Beekeeper and Medical Scientist living in Jackson. A simple meeting of a new friend slowly becomes so much more. Reader is immune. Reader is given a nickname. (This fic will have very dark tones though out. This deals with the unfortunate reality that men do disgusting things to women regardless of the world having ended. All chapters will include warnings and tag warnings. Please take care in reading.)

Its been a couple weeks since Ellie started school. You missed her during the mornings but she never failed to show up after school even just to do her homework next to you as you worked. Joel of course still working in the barn and every once in awhile coming back up to where ever you and Ellie were to take breaks and check up on you both. It was nice seeing them but after they leave each night you could feel the anxiety and hurt edging back into you.

You haven’t slept in the last three nights and its starting to show. Today as soon as you open the door and greet Joel he is looking at you with a deep set concern.

“You doin’ alright today Miss Bunny?” His hand stretches out just about to touch you in case you need support.

You pull back fast and stumble slightly into the door frame, “I’m just fine, thank you.” You pull your arms across your chest and seem to shrink in on yourself. “You can take the day off if you want. I was going to spend today in the barn.”

Joel seems to take the information in and mulls it over for a moment. His concern still intensely written across his features. “I don’t think thats a very good idea-”

You interrupt him quickly, “I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t do Mr.Miller. It is my job to make that medication. The town needs it.”

Joel’s features go from concern to confusion to anger in the blink of an eye. “I’m just tryin’ to look out for you. You look like you ain’t slept in a week and now you’re snappin’ at me.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me I said I’m fine. Leave.” With those words you slam the door and start pacing your home. You know its wrong the second the words leave your mouth. Its been months since you felt like this. The last time it happened it took weeks for you to come back from it. Maria found you and helped bring you back last time but at the cost of permanent damage to your friendship. You know she’ll never fully trust you again after that. You can’t let it happen to anyone else.

The next thirty minutes are spent by you locking and boarding up every window and door in the house. If no one can come in while you are like this then they wont get hurt.

~~~

Joel is dumbfounded and stands on your porch for five minutes trying to understand what just happened. He devolves into anger and annoyance and stalks off to find some other work to keep him busy for the day.

Another week passes and Joel finds himself at Maria and Tommy’s place helping them get ready for the new baby. Shes due in just a couple months and both Tommy and Maria are in a tizzy trying to make sure everything is ready for the new addition to the family.

“Ya know it doesn’t have to be perfect right Tommy?” Joel’s tone light and relaxed in the presence of family.

Tommy scuffs and rearranges the fabric diapers and towels again, “I know but I just want it to make sense. Its gonna be hard enough raising a kid in this world let alone having things disorganized once they get here.”

Joel chuckles at his brother, “It was a shitty world then and its a shitty world now, either way ain’t keepin that organized for more than a day when the kiddo gets here.”

Maria walks in then hand on her belly and the other carrying a small box of extra baby stuff. Tommy rushes over grabbing the box from her. “The Doc said not to lift anything and you should be in bed resting.”

“I can’t just lay in bed for the next few months and you know that. Besides the Doc said I can’t lift more than ten pounds. That’s less than eight.” Maria smiles at her husband and pats his cheek before giving him a small peck on the lips.

Joel watches the contentedness wash over their features. A sense of envy fills his own chest. He misses that feeling. Recognizing that he had something similar with Sarah’s mom before she left and he hadn’t felt that want since she did. He also feels a bit of jealousy at his brother having what he wishes he did when Sarah’s mom was pregnant. Joel hadn’t even known about Sarah until she was dropped off by a social worker when she was a week old. Most surprising of all is his sudden want for a chance at that again. He feels himself try to shake off the thoughts. Immediately replaced by the feelings of grief, sadness, and loss. Anger being the most present. The two others in the room oblivious to the change in Joel’s demeanor. Maria turns the Joel then, “So hows the barn coming along?”

Joel huffs and rolls his eyes at that, “Just fine till Bunny told me to fuck off.”

Maria looks over to Tommy with confusion and concern immediately written across her face. She looks back to Joel, “What do you mean she told you to fuck off?”

He simply shrugs. “Looked like she hadn’t slept in a few, asked her if she was alright…damn near chewed my head off for it. Told me to leave so I did.”

She takes a step closer the concern only worsening, “Joel this is very important. How long ago was this?”

He squints his eyes at her then his brother. He feels as if he is missing something important, like he doesn’t know something they do. His eyes shift back over to Maria, “A week ago.”

She curses under her breath before looking at Tommy. “You see her in the past week at all?” He simply shakes his head no. “Tommy we need to get the doc to her ASAP.” He nods and starts heading to the truck Maria right behind him.

Joel stands there confused for a moment lost in thought as to what might be the reason that the doc would be needed. He almost just brushes it off and lets them deal with it, but something in him is telling him to get a move on and help. Clearly something is wrong and Bunny needs help.

Its not even twenty minutes later they are all standing at the front door. Maria banging on the door with no answer. Joel peers into the window to see if there is any movement. “Looks like she’s got the windows and doors blocked from the inside. What the hell is goin’ on with her?”

Maria huffs as she paces the porch, “I should have known when she didn’t come over Tuesday. She never misses bringing me meds.”

“You didn’t tell me she didn’t drop those off.” Tommy voices from the bottom of the porch stairs.

“I still had meds I would have been fine. I thought she would just be by tomorrow when she drops off the rest to the clinic.” Maria walks back to the door again and calls your name. She tries again just a couple more times hoping your real name would coax you out sooner. They all hear a rustling around from inside the house and she calls for you again. “Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!”

Joel can see the tears prickling in Maria’s eyes. He hasn’t ever seen her this emotional and distressed even with the pregnancy hormones. He looks to Tommy and recognizes the same sad look in his eyes that he had when he himself had gone off the deep end. It suddenly struck him what was happening. That’s when they all hear the shattering of glass come from inside the house.

~~~

You’ve been pacing the bottom floor of the house for you don’t even know how long. Sleeping only in small increments when your body allows it. That voice creeping in slowly. His voice. Its been so long since you’d heard it but you remember the condescending tone anywhere. At first it sounded far away like he was yelling from the yard but then he was closer and closer. He always knows where you are in the house without actually being here. He sounds like hes in the walls now.

“Little girl, you can’t run away from me now…” His voice makes you tremble in fear. “I know where you are…I know your every thought.”

“no….no just….just leave me alone please. I’ve given you enough of me.” Your hands squeeze around the leather handle of your knife as you pace in the center of the living room.

“NO! I WANT IT ALL! YOU’RE MINE!” His voice echoes out. Its almost enough to cover the banging at your front door. That’s when you hear your name being called in a familiar, sweeter voice.

“Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!” The voice carried through the walls you had built up. You don’t remember this person, only a small spark of familiarity.

You walk to the front door hand out stretched yet hesitant to take down the furniture blocking the way. “Don’t you dare trust her. She just wants to steal you away from me. You don’t want that do you little girl? She’ll hurt you.” Your trembling hands pull back and reach to cover your ears, the blade from your knife brushing slightly against your cheek.

“She sounds nice, I think I know her.” Your voice just a hushed whisper.

“STUPID GIRL! You can’t trust anyone but me! I kept you safe all those years and THIS is how you repay me?” His voice booms as you stumble back some slicing open your cheek. “It looks like I need to teach you another lesson. A round of iron should teach you better.” Its then that you see him emerge from the wall. A fire poker in hand and red hot. You see his hands wring around the iron grip and a gleeful look in his otherwise dead eyes. The bullet hole in his forehead still oozing blood like the last time you saw him. And the same devious, wicked smile plastered on his face. As he inches forward you feel yourself pushed back into fight or flight mode. You reach to the nearest objects and start throwing them at him, hoping to deter him from coming any closer. Once hes only a few inches away you let out a blood curdling scream. Moments later furniture flies away from its barricade spot and the door breaks off its hinges.

A man you don’t recognize walks towards you in a hurry, light shining behind him as if he is some sort of angel. Unsure of what to make of the man you shuffle away. The man of your nightmares dissipated into thin air as the new man stops in his tracks. His movements much slower now as if trying to calm a scared and wild animal. You can see his lips move but you don’t hear any sound right away. The golden light behind him is almost blinding as it washes over the cold room. It warms your skin as you look down at yourself and see the light gracing your form. Looking back up at the man you smile. “Is it safe? Is he gone?”

The man kneels down in front of you and slowly nods. He reaches up and starts to take the knife from you. That’s when the light behind him starts to fade into an inky black. Panic quickly floods back into your system, and your grip hardens on the knife. “No! GET AWAY FROM ME!” You kick at him and scramble to move away. He lets go and steps back quickly.

“Bunny please, I promise I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He watches you intently and you in-turn watch him. The light and inky black fighting back and forth around the man. Swirling and mixing yet never quite touching. Your gaze still lays on his features with no trust. He waits on a few moments before speaking back up. “I’ll stay right here okay? I just need you to put the knife down.”

The panic quickly grows and your eyes flick from him to the knife and back to him. “I won’t let him or any other man get me again.” You quickly flip the knife back to yourself and plunge the knife deep into your abdomen.

As your body feels the sudden numbness pool in your abdomen reality crashes back in. Eyes locked with Joel’s as he stands there stunned. “Joel…I…” You look back down to your abdomen, “Oh god what…did I do?” Dropping to your knees, hands grabbing at the still plugged wound. Your hands smearing the dripping blood as you feel another pair of hands on you keeping you from fully falling to the ground.

You hear Joel’s voice calling out something. He sounds panicked but you can’t quite understand what he is saying. All the sound around you muffled as if you were stuck in a dream. The inky black that had been around Joel enveloping your own vision as you hear more voices get added to the muddled sound.

~~~

Joel yells out to the group on the porch, “Doc! We need the Doc in here!” He cradles your shoulders as he rocks you back and forth slowly. His other arm pulling your legs to get you laying more flat. The blood pouring out from your wound coats Joel’s clothes and hand. Your eyes only half open staring up at him, pupils blown wide. You try muttering something out and weakly raise your arm. He was quick to hold you and shush you. “It’s alright Miss Bunny, we are gonna fix this. Everything is going to be okay.”

Time seems to stand still for hours as he looked deep into your eyes. His own filling with tears he hadn’t realized he could have for anyone more than he already had. It was when your eyes rolled fully back and the doctor pulled you from his grip that he himself blacked out. The next thing Joel knew he was standing with Ellie next to your sleeping form in a hospital bed.

Ellie’s hand squeezing yours and silent tears rolling down her own face. Joel does the only thing he can think of to help. He pulls up two chairs and guides Ellie to sit still able to hold your hand. He barely catches the whisper that leaves her lips. “Please don’t abandon me too.” It instantly crushes Joel’s heart and all he can do is sit there with Ellie.

Part 4

If you would like to be tagged in my works please feel free to message me and let me know who/what fandoms you’d like to be tagged in. I plan to write for at least The Walking Dead, Shameless(US), Marvel(MCU and Comics), DC(All), Teen Wolf and The Last of Us

[pampushky]

Creature (Both Haunted & Holy)

Vinsmoke Sanji/Reader - chapter 7 - 2.4k

You get to know your new crew, as well as setting some expectations for Sanji.

It cannot be said enough, but free Palestine, free Congo, free Sudan, and free Haiti. Wars and occupations should not be legal. The only one who should have control over your own body is you, no matter your identity.

ao3 | series masterlist | masterlist | next part

Sanji lights up a cigarette as he looks at the supplies the Arlong pirates had in store, groaning a bit as he attempts to read the scrawl on the notepad, looking at the frankly disorganized state of the storage building. Crates are thrown randomly, with the smell of rotting meat and produce permanently etched into the room. It seems that there was no logic in terms of organization or the fact that there was no care given for what was in the crates. Many things seem to insinuate that the Arlong pirates were functioning on pure luck and the incompetence of the Marines within the East Blue. He manages to pry open a crate next to him, looking inside it to find rolls of moth-bitten fabric, several of the bugs fluttering out and startling him, making him fall backward. 

This is how you find him, cursing at the crate as he dusts himself off, looking up at you as he takes a drag, and then blows the smoke from his nose. You flick your finger out, sending a tiny stream of water to extinguish his cigarette. The water circles his head for a moment, making it appear that he has a halo before it drops onto the ground beside him. If he notices that you need to lean against the doorframe, he doesn't say. 

“Do you have any idea how dry it is in here?” You bend down to look him directly in his face, arms crossed, and Sanji sets his chin on one of his hands, still holding the cigarette between his lips, a small smile on his face as he looks up at you.

“You’re lucky you’re so charming,” Sanji lets it fall from his lips, and you grin. “If it was anyone else I’d have kicked their ass.” 

You don't flinch, but raise an eyebrow at that, looking around the store room with an unimpressed side eye, before holding out your hand for the records Sanji had attained. 

“I didn’t think you’d be coming back here,” Sanji goes to take a drag, only to remember it’s been put out. “Especially so soon.”

“I’m just a bit wobbly, because of how I was treated,” You flip through a few pages, scanning over the records for anything useful, and then for the most recent dates. You really, really don't want to talk about what you went through yet, especially with a stranger. You also aren't thrilled to be alone with a man, but Nami had sworn up and down Sanji wouldn't do anything. “Doesn’t mean I fear the area.” You hand the records back to him, clapping your hands together as you stretch your arms about your head. Sanji can see more clearly on your arms what were once well-muscled biceps, with strong forearms that were built from swimming. He also takes in your new outfit and hair. You’ve cut it much shorter, letting it hang at your shoulders, half pulled back and out of your face. You’re now wearing a navy turtleneck compression top, tucked into a pair of high-waisted tan harem pants. Your pelt hangs loosely off your shoulders, not quite dragging against the ground, but nearly. You look much more comfortable, more confident, though still guarded, a small blush on his face as he looks anywhere but the shirt’s little cutout on your chest, or your intense stare up at him, arms folded as you finish stretching. 

“You’d better get used to it,” you walk past him, easily swiping the notepad from his hand again, “I’ll be your crew’s bosun and resource manager, considering how Nami can be so tight with money,” You don’t even look up from the pad, only flicking your right arm up, and then to the side, a string of water from a gourd on your hip shooting towards a crate, opening it and lifting several canvas bags out. “We should have plenty of dry goods in storage here, considering how Arlong squandered most of the trade routes.”

As you speak, more strings of water flow from the gourd, organizing what is being lifted from numerous crates around you, pushing the more rank-smelling ones deeper into the building. He doesn’t mention how you flinch slightly as you mention the name of the man who had so tortured you, or how you seem anxious around him, perhaps using your control of water to make a statement. Sanji knew you were not some easy target, nor would he ever look to do such a thing, but it made his stomach roll, only able to imagine what you went through. If he subtly lets you lean against him, he doesn't mention it and neither do you. You become a bit woozy from moving the water so much, out of practice.

But he sees how you’re handling yourself, closed off and a bit snappier, the side Zoro had gotten to meet, and later annoyed him, as you had commented on many of his choices. 

“I assume you can do some heavy lifting?” You look back at him, as you conduct the water around you. 

“Yes, of course,” Sanji is already by your side, examining the bags and barrels of grains, spices, and more, shocked at the quality and quantity that had been stolen, and squandered, left to sit in a dank storehouse until the end of time. Something seems to catch your eye, and you carefully guide the water back into its container. 

You move towards another crate, frowning as you inspect it, before lighting up, a happy trill slipping past your lips. “Aha! Dried fish and pickled greens– oh and pickled tubers! Perfect for rations.”

“Rations?” Sanij follows you over, as you crack the crate open with your claws, back flexing as you pull the top off with a shocking amount of ease, looking in to see several large jars and burlap sacks, wrinkling his nose at the smell. You, however, pull out one of the sacks, opening it with a grin, mouth-watering. “I cook fresh on the ship, we don't need all of this.” Sanji tries to remind you gently, avoiding touching your shoulders, as he would anyone else. He’s unsure about how you feel about physical touch yet, and he doesn’t want to make you take a step backward before you’ve even walked forward.

“Yeah, but a selkie’s gotta eat,” You pull out a strip of dried salmon, ripping off a chunk and chewing it happily as Sanji inspects several other similar crates, all stamped with the same symbol of a blue pine tree. “You have any idea how much blubber I gotta build back up?”

He only hums, pulling out a small journal and scribbling down some notes. “No, but you can start by telling me what exactly you need to eat to get back to a healthy weight.”

You only roll your eyes, setting the sack back into the crate, and assuming the same position you had before. “After I’m done tearing down this shitty storehouse, then we can talk diet. I bet Nami’s already raided the treasury.”

You fall into your role rather easily, forcing Zoro to stay and rest when he eventually wanders into the storehouse– the man claims he was on his way to a bar– and had offered to help. You shut him down immediately, forcing him to sit and wait on the cart you had a villager pull out front. 

When Sanji and you go to start loading things onto the cart, you find Zoro passed out across the front seat, drooling in his sleep, and you take the chance to rather rudely awaken him by dropping a rather large crate right behind his head.

Nami is working on the ship, when Sanji comes to the docks with a cart loaded full of supplies, looking a bit overwhelmed as you flip through a journal you’d claimed from the rubble of the main building, and Zoro, looking annoyed and newly awake as they come to a stop in front of the ship. 

“Luffy, you’re going to help,” You don’t even look up, hopping off the cart as you pass by the captain, and he looks shocked as you grab the back of his vest by instinct, stopping him from walking away.

“Why am I coming?”

“Zoro is heavily injured and will not,” you shoot the swordsman a glare as he gets off the cart and walks up the ramp to the Going Merry, “Be helping, lest he make his injuries worse.” 

“I’m fine, seal!”

“You’re not, you fucking dunce!” You snap back, making a small bubble of water hit him in the back of the head, soaking his hair. “Rest, or I’ll make you .”

It’s then that you turn back to Luffy and Sanji, fully outlining what crates you’d be able to take with you, and what can be left for the village, along with making Nami leave at least half of the treasure left behind for the village. This is not so much an argument as it is a heavy stare-down between the two of you, with Nami conceding as you fold your arms sternly. 

Two cartloads later, you’re satisfied with what you’ve managed to reclaim from the park, refusing to look back at the fading towers in the distance, knowing this is the last you’ll ever see of it. Hopefully, nature reclaims it, and it turns wild again. Sanji holds the reins of the donkey pulling the cart and glances over at you, a concerned frown on his lips.  Luffy is asleep in the back, snores rising from the little book he had pushed himself into.

“It’s.. not of my business what you went through,” He keeps his gaze forward, watching the sunset as they come closer and closer to the docks again. “But, if you ever want to talk to us, you can.”

You look at him, out of the corner of your eye, but continue to face forward, hands tightening into fists on your lap. 

“I don’t know any of you, and in all honesty, I decided to join this crew so Nami wouldn’t be alone,” your eyes flash a dangerous emotion that Sanji can’t quite interpret, seemingly a warning for him, and the other crew mates. “I want to trust you, truly, I do, as you all are the reason I have my pelt back, but make no mistake,” your voice drops, “I will destroy every single one of you, should it come down to it.”

And to your shock, Sanji throws his head back and laughs, which is a bit disquieting to you, and he holds out a hand as he slowly calms himself. “I’d expect nothing less.” You look at him, still a bit unnerved, but smile, facing forward as you look at the sunset with him, along with the approaching figure of the Going Merry. Usopp swings from the ropes, shouting and waving his hands, and much to your annoyance, you can see Zoro training, his bandages off. 

“I’ll kill that idiot,” you lean back against a bag of grain, and Sanji laughs as you sigh. Luffy only gets up, blinking a few times as his sleepy brain registers that they’ve arrived.

You’re organizing the storage room when Nami walks in, looking at how you’ve already managed to make the room look better, installing a few shelves built by the local carpenter. A window lets a bit of light into the room, and you don’t even look in Nami’s direction when she enters. 

You’ve done quite a number on the room, there’s a plush carpet you've added to the center of the room, and a few plush pillows added here and there, to make a  common room of some type. The windows have been covered in some type of paint, making them look stained, and she marvels at them, a bit impressed with what you’ve managed to do in the few days you’ve been on the ship.

You’re nearly ready to go, the ship packed and ready, with a few minor scratches fixed up on the Going Merry, courtesy of you diving under the boat with a hammer, nails, and several boards of wood in a makeshift sling and you change into your selken form. Luffy howls, watching you do this, making demands that you take him next until he wriggles out of your grasp the moment you go underneath the water with him.

After way too much of a struggle with your captain, you are dubbed the person who will dive in to save him, Zoro giving you a shoddily made cardboard crown, with Usopp waxing poetic as you are forced to accept this title. 

Nami watches as you shift a sack of grains on your shoulder, placing it on a shelf, before pulling a curtain to hide what’s on the shelf. You turn to her, a bit nervous. The room looks much more lived in, almost cozy, as you stand off to the side, showing an anxious side that only Nami has truly seen. “Hope you don’t mind.” 

“I love it,” Nami looks at the rug, tracing the patterns with her eyes. “This…huh, did you steal this from Arlong’s room?”

“It would be a waste,” You smile, “Arlong took that from my village... I see it as fitting to reclaim it.”

Luffy pushes his way in, flopping on the rug, quickly followed by Usopp, who looks slightly concerned. The captain rubs his face in the rug, before going still, the three of you all look at him in confusion and slight apprehension.

“Is he.. Okay?” You tilt your head to the side, crouching beside him. “He doesn’t look… oh fuck!”

As you go to poke the captain’s cheek, he turns, bitting your finger with a rather grumpy grunt, and refuses to let go. The room goes silent, with Luffy growling at you, and you looking up at Nami in a bit of shock, mouth hanging open.

“Did he get his rabies shots?”

“What’s a shot?”

If your face could have gone any grayer, it would have, based on Luffy's response. 

“Oh my god, what kind of crew did I just join? ”

Sanji only pops his head in when he notices that the deck is shockingly quiet, and he can see that Zoro is asleep, propped up against the mast. 

“He fucking bit me !” You look at the cook aghast, frowning so hard, and he has to fight the urge to laugh.

“Oh,” Sanji steps into the room, looking at Luffy, and then nudging his head with his foot. “That means he likes you.” 

And you can’t help but laugh, the laugh turning into a trill as you throw your head back. Nami smiles widely, happy to see you in such a state.