#i guess no cuz its not important to those who will search by tags
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welps, since i got a little skrunkling in form of ararycan, lets talk about him. i hope it'll be a short one. (spoiler: no)
also to those who bumped onto my post in their or someone else's dash somehow: english is not my first language. so be ready for numerous "memories" and "forget" cuz my vocabulary is thin just like that. and some other weirdness of course.
first of all, i hate the dottore clone theory with every single cell in my body, and i want you to know that if you like it i dont care, so neither should you care about me hating it. im only speaking opinion here.
and also this is rather my headcanon just not to stay alongside with the mystery while theres a dottore theory around. i honestly dont believe in dottore theory, but i still cant prove it wrong properly due to lack of info, and that annoys me. but this headcanon doesnt attempt to debunk the theory somehow, these are just two completely different things not worth comparing.
but rlly, did anyone on that planet at least once look at ararycan's leaves more than once? cuz it feels like no one knows what is the form of the pattern. the theory followers say these are circles, on my plush these are rounded diamons. wtf dear fellow folks.
the headcanon is trying to explain ararycan's memory loss, as there is no information about this in the game. traveler and paimon just decide that "welp, aranara are forgetful sometimes" though its not really true, but its really odd of them to leave us on this cliffhanger. i once said that aranara never forget stuff unless they meet some certain condition. i didnt explain that well last time so lemme speak a word (although its gonna be long i fear, so once again, the orange text is not necessary)
in the beginning we were given with the idea that aranara dont forget anything, or at least dont forget anything as easily as we do. this was really the very first fact i learned about them since i found messily written notes very soon after i began my first walkthrough of aranyaka (funfact: in russian localization its not clear who is the author of these if you only see the first set of it, and i definitely remember that i was not able to read the next page at a place, so i bet i found it even before meeting arama in the very first time. i also found it in the second time only after completing the entire questline so imagine my face at that moment), and author of the notes says that he doesnt forget things easily, but still decides to make records because its fun to do. basically saying that these lads dont ever need to record things up cuz they remember it all by themselves.
then, during the part where we help guys in mawtiyima forest, we were told about the inscriptions on the walls. aragaru says that these are made only for humans, because aranara will not forget, while people have all the possibility to. all the other inscriptions on walls, if we keep the spoken idea in mind, are clearly made for humans as well. the only weirdness in this part is inscriptions in old vanarana, cuz the only one who needs these during the quest is arama, and its not really clear who these were written to in the first place. but we still cant say these were definitely written for aranara, or maybe i need to research more.
the events of agnihatora sutra and vimana agama are the ones that made people think that aranara are forgetful. the second one is the mystery we are trying to solve in this article, but the first one told you everything you need, but its absolutely understandable if you didnt get it in the first time (neither did i if u wonder). in agnihatora sutra the three are aware that the thing theyre going to commit is gonna make them forget everything, so they were hinting it for us carefully, yet not saying directly that they will forget us. in the very end of this questline they tell us about the sacrifice they're going to commit, and that sacrifice is actually their memories, even though its not shown on screen, unlike the sacrifice of arana's memories to get the bija. that is why we were later told that these guys dont emember us while everyone else do.
also there's the fact araja troubles to remember the events of the past, but this dude actually grew into a tree, and just like i said in the cinnamon arama article, that might be the reason of his memory loss. araja also didnt forget everything that he had expirienced before he became a tree, as sometimes he still recalls to some things as his own memories.
after all, aranara gain actual power with memories and it would be weird if you'd randomly forget stuff and lose yo power just like that. they cherish memories more than anything, either these are good or bad, and the idea of forgetting is terrifying to them (the most memorable to me was the moment when arama complained about alcohol cuz it makes people forget stuff. paimon said that sometimes there are things people want to forget, but arama was still negative about that). well, actually there is a thing they cherish more. this thing is called "friendship", and the idea is that even if you forget something, there will be friends who'll remind you, so thats why they are more dear to aranara, even more than the memories. this is as well the idea of "the forest will remember" thing, cuz aranara are friends to all the plants, animals, some humans and each other, so theres just no possibility for the entire forest (all of these things) to forget something. but that still doesnt remove the importance of memories cuz these are power and these are memories, it'll take a lot of time to gain them back, so losing them is only worth when its absolutely necessary. also remember that stories and memories are not the same, so just summarizing things up to someone wont work.
and that concludes my orange explaination, now back to vimana agama mystery!!!!
so my take is that ararycan mustve sacrificed his memories for something. if we'll try to recreate the chronological order of the events of the past, we'll see that aralohita, who possibly was some sort of a buddy to ararycan, disappears after ararycan lost his memories. or if he lost part of them, its possible that aralohita disappeared prior to that. both versions explain why ararycan still remembers the solution to aralohita's riddles.
ararycan once says that he was the one who brought the ruin golem part into the secret cave, but for now he doesnt seem to be as strong, he rather acts like a very brave weakling. as we know, aranara gain power with memories, so no wonder ararycan is a weakling now, not remembering everything. but still, his awareness about some things looking familiar makes me think that he might have lost part of his memories, but how come?
we know that ararycan most likely was the third one alongside royinjan and amadhiah in the past, so all the vamadhas, including the one that was sealing the secret base, most likely were set after the childhood of the two, which means that might happened not too long ago. that might line up with a fact that pir kavikavus accident happened around the same time, because vamadhas were obviously set for reason. i recall ararycan saying that vamadhas are set when aranara dont want nara to enter some certain places, but says that he doesnt know who set these. so i think that actually could be ararycan, but since he lost his memories, no wonder he doesnt remember about it. and so uh, setting these could be resulted in memory loss as it might take some power. he probably did know that amiti device might be used for no good by some foes, so vamadhas are only set in places that either have amiti device fragments in them or places related to it somehow (and nowhere else, by the way, so vamadha is for sure some kind of ararakalari that both ararycan and aralohita used to wield). we can see the direct memory loss from using ararakalari in case of arama, when the one hit one of ruin guards really hard and returned back to goofy. we dont know how the memories amount needed to do some action is measured, but if we connect the dots, it all seems possible.
the only question left is why the heck did ararycan move the detail into the cave and the answer is i dont know. it was def moved before the cave was sealed since roy (seemingly) confirms this place not changing at all since he was a kid, and probably even before the kids found this cave because otherwise someone said something like "dude, i recall this place empty, but then somehow this huge detail appeared here, no clue how tho i dont remember". but why did ararycan move it there is forever a mystery it seems, unless aralohita is confirmed to be his accompany most of the time and prolly found alive ofc. aralohita might say something about it in that case, unless he forgot everything as well. but its all just my silly wishes.
also arama, while summarizing the places we shall visit, says that ararycan may know something about the sus person we were looking for. ararycan later confirms he used to help kids in vimara village cuz arana asked him, but thats all he says, none of details were thrown after that. his wording that marana avatar is capable of the trouble feels weird, but marana avatar to aranara is many things, not only the actual marana avatar, so he could be calling fatui like that. i now think that ararycan could possibly help us with finding out who the sus person is but for whatever reason it was cut down by his own troubling.
and i know that at this moment it feels like im just coping but idc. once again, my speculations have nothing to do with the dottore clone theory, its just a thing im rather comfortable with. fact of the day: dottore is my least favorite character in the entire genshin impact (among some that are somehow major) and i'll be quite disappointed if my precious ararycan turns out to be his clone or creation or whatever. i wont argue with it, i'll only throw, tear and murder.
and that concludes my tractate. it took me the whole day to put in words and i feel empty rn, especially since i dont know many words, and if you ever ask me why am i speaking english if i could just use my first language - none of your business. if u ask me why i made this tractate - none of your business. till the next time.
#genshin#genshin fanart#genshin impact#aranara#ararycan#i dont even know if i shall actually mention everyone else whos involved#i guess no cuz its not important to those who will search by tags#imagine you search up dottore and end up bumping into this#oops i already included the dottore word so it'll be indicated in the search results#congratulations to those who found it like that#thoughts
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im not trying to be mean forreal but you arent gonna have people rbing your stuff if you don't tag it! 2 give an example your most recent piece has 7 tags total, two of which are personal tags that no ones gonna search so lets say 5. in addition to the ones you included which werent bad you should also include stuff like the medium (ex: #traditional art) and of course #artists on tumblr. tagging aesthetics that fit also goes a long way. plus a (no guilt) caption requesting that people boost your work.
something important to keep in mind with tumblr is that its really good for circulating art LONG term rather than most social media platforms which prioritize feeding the neverending ratrace for whatevers trending. I am in no way a big name artist but my most circulated posts come from people tag searching and queueing. obvs theres usually gonna be the most attention over the first few days but also give it time! don't be afraid to repost or find niches who will circulate your stuff. post art and then link it in oc discords, too
this isnt meant to admonish you btw more it makes me sad to see you get discouraged. you have a unique and compelling artstyle with genuinely swagful characters so the idea of you peacing out saddens my heart. i hope this helps, cya
Hey first off. I genuinely appreciate this, I am ngl I knew I shouldn't have posted that last night cuz I knew I'd be embarrassed about it later and well!! Here I am, feeling like a damn fool!! Sincerely tho, your words do mean a lot.
However, the one thing that trips me up is that back when I did use Tumblr more regularly, like several years ago, they had made it so that only the first five tags on a post were searchable, and everything else wasn't visible in tag searches. Has this changed? It's been a long time and I have no idea what's changed with Tumblr in the past few years but I've just been operating on the assumption that only the first five tags "count." Also I am just ... Not good at knowing what to tag things other than in the most straightforward way possible 😬
I definitely absolutely get discouraged way way way too quickly and I acknowledge that, it comes from years of a building frustration of posting on social media and never feeling like it goes anywhere while also watching those around me grow their followings. It's come to a point where it feels like if something I post "fails" then it tanks my mood on a hair trigger. And it's not healthy!!! This is largely why I've stopped posting publicly anywhere. Bc the reaction I've built up is so instantaneous and intense that it's completely unhealthy for me. Sorry to vent at you!! It's all just sort of coming out. I've absolutely poisoned the way I view interaction on social media for myself and it feels very entrenched and I don't really know what to do about it.
I want to share my art with people and I want them to like my art and asking for reblogs directly on art posts is something that always felt gross to me but idk maybe that's what I gotta do. I have this notion in my mind tho that if my art is good and people like it, they'll reblog it because they want to, not because I asked them to. It doesn't feel like people are sharing my art bc they genuinely like it if they're doing it bc I asked them to. And then people don't reblog my art, so it gets interpreted as "well, I guess nobody thinks my art is very good, otherwise they'd want to share it!"
This all feels very immature of me and I hate that this is how I feel. I definitely am very deeply in the mindset now of "well, nobody appreciated my art much when I did post it, so now nobody gets to see it anymore." Idk how to grow past this tbh. I am absolutely only shooting myself in the foot. Oh well whatever!!!
Anyway. Thank you again for this, and also if you did actually read this, thank you for your time and energy. I don't think you were being mean at all, you said what is true, I think. I hope you have a lovely day.
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Thinking about writing nonbinary Adrien. Any advice?
firstly, sorry this took me so long to answer, rl is kicking my ass
secondly, im really flattered to be asked!
the immediate disclaimer: this isnt gonna apply across the board. everyone in the world is having their own unique experience, and we cant know them all (tho we can for sure really want to know most).
but i guess thats also where my advice starts- being nonbinary is different for everyone. some of us have dysphoria, some dont, some experience social dysphoria or even vocal dysphoria and dont have body dysphoria, some have different combinations- i personally have never felt all that attached to my body in the first place (its more like its a car and the part thats ‘me’ is the engine), but i am also very much not a visual person. that would fit for adrien i think, since canonically he doesnt place much emphasis on looks, and understandably so.
gonna put the rest under a cut cuz it got kinda long
but i know every time i hear a relative refer to me as girly or feminine or insist that i wouldnt understand something because its ‘for men,’ i die a little bit inside. admittedly i do get a feeling of validation when i am referred to as masculine and thats not always true when youre nonbinary. in a place where masculine and feminine are expressed to you as stubbornly opposed, tho, being referred to as your ‘opposite’ can be affirming. i can see this happening for adrien, too.
nonbinary people do not have to look androgynous. whether or not you look androgynous does not affect whether or not you are nonbinary, and there are too many people who conflate the two. nonbinary people can look however they like.
its important to respect pronouns, but everyone also uses them differently. while i prefer they/them, and that seems increasingly to be the norm, some people continue to use he/his or she/her or to switch between them. some people use neopronouns. some people experiment until they find out which ‘feels’ right. if you have adrien, or any character, still figuring out their pronouns, though, you should make that clear so that it doesnt appear youre disrespecting pronouns instead. (i personally am just realising i would kinda like to see more stories where people dont yet know their pronouns).
my main advice is to talk to as many nonbinary people as you can (which you obviously have a handle on already!), search out the nonbinary positive blogs here on tumblr- theyre full of information- and figure out just how your version of adrien expresses themself, or if, like a lot of us- like most of us, probably- theyre still figuring that out.
and also, unless this is a story specifically about them coming out, to themself or to others, dont make it the focus. make it a part of the story. an important part, but not necessarily the most important part.
but at the same time, we dont have enough coming out/figuring yourself out as nonbinary stories yet. this isnt really at the same place as the ‘dont make gay characters all about being gay.’ i cant say dont make it a definitive trait, because for a lot of us it is. but we dont have those stories yet, anyway; we still need them. we can make nonbinary characters about being nonbinary. we could use those stories, still.
i dont have a list of good resources, unfortunately, because i dont curate my resources that well. i look things back up on duckduckgo when i need a refresher (i am not always good at avoiding google but i try to). i search the tags on tumblr, because there really are a lot of good resources on here. the nonbinary tag on my own blog is probably A Mess but it does exist.
lastly, i am in the us and my experiences are coloured by that, as well as having immediate family that did not really enforce (or, uh, really explain, come to think of it) the concept of gender at all when my brothers and i were kids. (we played lost boys a lot, we did not consider gender when picking what character we'd be for games- hullo i was donatello, also virgil (other people watched mighty max right), there was a vicious fight over the green ranger because Green Is My Colour You Dick, grandpa called us huey dewey and louie, brothers did not realise my cousins 'no girls allowed' fort applied to me, etc. i have also gotten away with picking whatever damn side i want for girls vs. boys shit my entire life, for whatever reason. it took me a while to figure out that this is probably not the norm).
sorry that this got kinda weird and tangential, i have been havin a very weird time recently
obviously, this is all gonna be pretty personal and subjective, so others are welcome to chime in!
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Vocivore, Ltd. (45 of 46)
Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)
Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, @courtorderedcake, @facesiousbutton82 <3
***THE MOST WONDERFUL, HEARTBREAKING, and BEAUTIFULLY WHUMPY COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE and HERE!!!!!!!!!*************
***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!**********
***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************
**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**
****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!! CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********
*CH 34 ART! A DEFEATED KILLIAN, HEAD BOWED BEFORE HIS MASTER!!*
***CH 36 ART! DETECTIVE JONES BOWS BEFORE HIS NEW MASTER!!!!!!***
***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***
________________________________________________________________
Present (Thursday)...
Zzzzzzzz…
Shave day.
Killian had only to close his eyes to be transported back there. That dreadful hovel with its table of pain. Those callous hands dragging a dull-edged blade along his jaw. And nothing ahead of him but more suffering. No hope.
Focus on the differences. Warm, soft bed, no splintered, uncomfortable wood. Blankets and a gown instead of cold nudity. The din of automation replacing the scratchy ring of imprecise steel. Similar pungent disinfectant but less decay, less blood and pain and fear. And, most important, gentle touch. No intent to hurt or degrade. Only meticulous, loving care from the one person on Earth he trusted without reservation.
“Holy crap,” teased Emma, “I think we need to get Whale to put a sign on your door warning that there's a handsome pirate inside.”
Knowing that he still looked like a wreck despite a neatly trimmed beard, he played along for her sake. “And what would its purpose be, to entice eligible nurses inside, or warn them away from his jealous bride?”
“I don't mind them looking,” smiled Emma. “What's the point of having a gorgeous husband if a girl doesn't show him off every once in awhile?”
Killian clenched his teeth as a wave of violent shivering overtook him; to a casual observer it would have appeared as if he were suddenly chilled to the bone despite climate-controlled surroundings and the layer of blankets draped atop him. Through nauseating pain, he heard Emma lay aside the razor and felt her grip his elbow in solidarity.
Whale remained hesitant to classify them as seizures, stating that the corresponding brain activity did not match any known convulsive disorder and responded to none of the anticonvulsant drugs they’d tried. Of course, that didn't rule out the possibility of eventual development into actual seizures, as most of the slave fatalities had experienced just before their deaths.
Killian had managed to catch snippets of conversations, grave tones and sobering words that betrayed what they seemed to be trying to hide from him. He would probably have guessed on his own, anyway, with his worsening state mirroring the course of the slaves who had preceded him in death. Sometimes he was able to comprehend what a shame it was, for him to have survived so long only to succumb now, when peace had returned to his home. In those moments he tried to take solace in the thought that he'd been granted more cherished memories with his wife and daughter, without a threat hanging over them, when he could focus on lavishing them both with the fierce love he felt for them. Emma would remember. Hope... he liked to think she would.
None of that mattered in the moment, though, as quivering muscles shocked every single inflamed nerve ending into high gear, enveloping him in a fog of inescapable agony.
Emma met his watery gaze with a sad, stiffly calm smile, and he read the desolate grief in her forged reassurance even as he realized that the attack was finally subsiding.
"Morphine?" she asked quietly, but he shook his head. Hope would be coming by for a visit soon, and he wanted a clear mind for her.
Her grip on him relaxed by degrees as some of the tension drained away from his body.
“I'm so sorry, Killian,” she whispered. “If only we could somehow bring magic back. I might not be able to stop these attacks, but I could at least heal your wounds and prevent some of this pain.”
She sniffled and before Killian could summon the breath to respond, she continued,
“It doesn't make any sense; I mean, we thought it was related to the Vocivore, but maybe we're wrong, ‘cuz it seems like we should have found something by now…”
“I have something to report about that,” came Regina’s voice from the doorway. “But you’re not going to like it.”
Emma turned with a weary expectancy, and Regina stepped inside. She was the very picture of classic irritated aloofness, but she did glance at Killian and say,
“Sorry for barging in like this.”
"You found something?" demanded Emma, and Regina stopped at the foot of the bed. Her scowl could whither the blossoms off an apple tree.
"It's those damn pigeons."
"The... pigeons," repeated Emma slowly. In his mind's eye, Killian saw a ragged pink feather coated in slime; white, powdery droppings splattered on chancel cobbles; black and amber irises reflecting nothing but pure animal instinct. He heard the trilling cooing that had been the quiet backdrop for many a scream, memories as clear as if the blasted birds were right there in the room with him.
"Those ridiculous pink pigeons, Sheriff Swan," Regina confirmed, completely oblivious to Killian's uneasiness. "I cannot fathom how, but they're the ones responsible for the magical shielding. Pesky vermin."
Emma looked unconvinced, and Killian wanted to agree, but considering how the birds seemed inextricably linked to the Vocivore's presence, perhaps the idea wasn't so farfetched.
"Regina, are you sure? They're just dumb birds. How can they possibly block magic?"
"I'm... still working on that," admitted the queen. "But I know I'm right. Did you hear about those hooligans who set off the fireworks in front of City Hall this morning? Right in the middle of an inter-realm council meeting?"
"David filled me in, yeah; said he thought it was some Lost Boys from the Wish Realm."
"Well, as disruptive as it was to the meeting, it was a hundred times worse for our feathered friends. They took off like their tails were on fire and made for the Enchanted Forest or... Madagascar or somewhere; trouble was, they're too stupid to remember that for long, and they were back within 10 minutes. But in that time, there was a brief window in which I could almost access my power; it was there, just on the edge of awareness, just out of reach." She made a growl of frustration, both hands tightly fisted. "I thought for a second that the shield was collapsing for good, without us having to do anything about it, but wouldn't you know, we're stuck with our usual luck again."
Regina looked like she'd rinsed her mouth with lemon juice as she continued ranting. "The first bird to come back, while we were still searching the area for any unexploded fireworks? A pigeon. A fat, iridescent pink pigeon. And that's when I made the connection."
"Well, I've been saying we needed to get an exterminator, but just because you saw one doesn't necessarily prove that they're the culprits."
"I think she may be right," Killian said with another shiver. "They were... fairly strongly bonded with the Master. Sometimes would even ride on its shoulders." He cringed as the haunting outline of the beast filled his imagination, complete with winged companions, its tentacles pulsating as they reached toward him....
"And we have only recently started noticing them around Storybrooke," added Regina. "Just about the same time as magic failed. They’re remarkably distinctive, and I remember being surprised the first time I saw one."
"I don't see the connection," Emma began, still doubtful. "But it can't hurt to check it out. So say it is the pigeons. What's the next step?"
"That's the bad news." Regina glanced at Killian in apology. "It won't be a quick fix. Short of poisoning them, or making the town somehow inhospitable to birds in general--both of which are options that I can't see our critter-loving neighbors approving of--we're down to trapping and relocating each one individually, or trying to figure out what exactly gives them the ability to block magic. And either way, it's going to take time." She folded her arms, waiting for questions, but Emma and Killian were quiet, mulling over the situation. "I've tasked Robin with the job of bringing one to me for study. Don't tell your mother."
Killian was only half listening as a whole movie's worth of scenes replayed in his head. Pigeons, pigeons everywhere. He felt foolish for not noticing their conspicuousness before, but, of course, he did have other things to worry about at the time.
He felt his spirits sinking impossibly lower as the consequences of the news took shape. No quick solution would mean no magical healing. He'd be stuck in this infernal hospital, recuperating in the conventional way, spending whatever time he had left uncomfortable and in pain. Somehow, the Master had managed to orchestrate continued torture for him; even in death, it was having the last laugh at his expense.
"Pigeons," scoffed Emma. "Pigeons and a crab. Who would have guessed?" Seeming to sense Killian's dark musings, she stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Sorry, Killian. This sucks."
"They must have evolved together," muttered Regina absently. "Developed some kind of symbiosis; they shield the Vocivore, and it gives them, what, shelter? Protection from predators?"
"Blood," realized Killian suddenly. The inspiration had come out of nowhere, a thought buried deep within his subconscious that had burst unbidden into full awareness. He'd only ever seen it out of the corner of his eye, with no attention to spare, his own misery and how long he'd been given before the next Session at the forefront, always. But there they were. Pink bodies fluttering to earth, a writhing mass behind him as he left the church, squabbling among sticky smears and warm pools, dipping dainty beaks, plunging belly-first in some macabre bathing ritual…
Then outside. They would be strutting through the gutters, congregating near fresh corpses while his tunnel vision kept him limping in the direction of Z's cottage, never truly seeing how beady little eyes sized him up even as blood-crusted heads burrowed into decaying flesh in search of more nourishment.
"Um... what?!"
Killian returned to reality to find Emma and Regina staring at him with matching expressions of revulsion.
"The pigeons, they... they seemed to fear the noise and, f-for the most part, remained in the rafters... during..." He hesitated, winced, then carried on with great effort. "But afterward... the Master didn't care about the stains on the floor, yet I never saw fresh blood when I first arrived. I... I think the pigeons... consumed it."
Killian thought he might vomit. Both of his visitors seemed to share the feeling.
"Okay, that's... disgusting."
Regina gulped and plastered on a weak smirk. "So. ‘Carrion’ pigeons. I wonder if their feathers are just stained, then, or if they turn pink from some substance in the blood they eat, similar to flamingos."
"Gross," moaned Emma. She took a sip of her bottled water. "But hold on a sec. If they're so fond of... that... then why did they make their way all the way to Storybrooke? There's way less... that... around here."
"Guess they can do without it. Or maybe they live off roadkill out here."
"Overcrowding?" suggested Emma, answering her own question. "Better nesting sites?"
"Would have made an intriguing Exchanges topic." Killian cringed at the thought. "Had I known to ask."
An uncomfortable silence descended upon the trio, until finally, Regina grunted her irritation at the whole thing.
"Well, I can try to confirm all of this once I get my hands on one of those little pests. Guess it's good to finally be getting some answ-"
"Mr. and Mrs. Hook, get your Thank-You cards ready; I've just-" Dr. Whale paused when he noticed Regina in the room. "Oh. Your Highness."
"Victor."
Whale caught Killian's glower and smirked. "What's that look for?"
"I'd explain but I'm still recovering from that utter shipwreck of a salutation."
"Sounds like you're feeling better. Guess I'm wasting my time, then, working around the clock?"
"Did you have something to tell us, Whale?" Emma's feigned irritation fooled no one--it was obvious she anticipated more important news.
"We've had a bit of a breakthrough, thanks to the data gleaned from you and Detective Jones." The physician held up a cautionary hand. "Results look promising, but this is by no means a sure thing, and there's no guarantee of long-term success. We'll of course continue to tweak it as we go along, but for now I think Killian could benefit from an initial dose as soon as possible."
"You think you've found a cure, then?" clarified Regina.
"A therapy," he corrected. "To slow the degeneration and maybe, eventually, reverse it. Tested on some lab animals, then this morning on two rescued slaves who were near death. They seem to be doing better." He pulled a hand-labeled vial from his pocket and set it on a table with a flourish. "The FDA would burn my license and probably toss me into prison for this. Good thing none of us officially exist."
As Killian stared at the little container of clear fluid onto which, suddenly, all of their hopes were pinned, he was struck with unexpected anxiety. It was all well and good when there was nothing that could be done, his fate seemingly sealed. Now that there was a reported chance, he wanted nothing more than for it to work. He wanted to live, to be a husband and father, to watch Hope grow and be there for her. The vial represented that future... and what if it didn't work?
Whale took Killian's silence as reluctance, and he sighed. "Yeah, I can't guarantee its safety either, or provide you with a list of possible side effects. Just that for you, with your weird, extra barrier that we still don't entirely understand, I'd like at least the first few doses to be administered directly into the CSF, and we do know the risks and side effects of lumbar puncture. But, well... listen, if it were me or a loved one in your position, I would still say that we need to try something, because the risks don't matter once the condition becomes terminal. Make sense?"
"None of that is in question," said Killian slowly. Then he flashed a short, tired smile at the physician, radiating self-deprecation. "Believe it or not, I actually do trust your medical expertise. I was only... praying for its success, I suppose."
Whale looked genuinely touched, for a fleeting instant. But soon enough his cocky demeanor was back. "You're right: I'm not sure I do believe it. I'm gonna take that admission as another symptom and then we can just carry on the way we always do."
He tossed some forms at Emma, ordering,
"Read and sign for him. Assuming you want to go through with it, we'll be back shortly to perform the procedure."
He left in a swirl of white lapels, muttering a polite farewell to Regina on his way. The queen turned back to Killian and Emma, wearing a slightly uncomfortable grin.
"Well. Good news, then. Or, a seed of hope, at least." She brushed invisible dust off her jacket and made other I'm-about-to-leave cues.
"Yeah. Thanks for filling us in about the pigeons." Emma glanced down at her phone, and a tiny frown creased her forehead. "Although you could have just called me."
Squirming, Regina blustered,
"I... thought the news would be better delivered in person. And... well... maybe there's a... small part of me that wanted to see how Killian was doing."
"That's most appreciated," said Killian. "Thank you."
Regina nodded stiffly, shot an, "I'll keep you informed," then exited.
Killian gritted his teeth through another bout of shivers--thankfully shorter this time--and when he could open his eyes again it was to find Emma watching in sympathy.
"Hope that's over with for now. You don't wanna be doing that while they're trying to stick a needle into your spine."
Throbbing and aching, Killian grimaced. He needed a distraction. "Everything okay, love?" he growled. "You were rather tight-lipped toward the end there."
It was then that he noticed the tear tracks staining her face.
"Emma?"
She lay aside the consent forms and wiped at her cheeks. "I've been so scared, Killian. Starting a month ago, but it hasn't stopped even with your rescue. I... well, Whale's been pretty pragmatic about your condition, and... truth is... I was starting to prepare myself to lose you." She caught two droplets before they had a chance to fall. "I mean, how horrible is that? You aren't even gone yet and I'm coaching myself to start saying goodbye."
She started to reach for his hand but stopped and gripped his wrist instead.
"That's human nature," he pointed out. "I've been doing it, too."
Her eyes glistened with sad questions. "We didn't... I mean, Whale thought that..."
"No, no one's told me anything; not before now at any rate. No one had to."
Emma leaned forward to kiss his cheek gently, brushing back some stray hair as she murmured,
"I'm sorry, Killian. Shoulda known better than to give up so soon."
His eyes found the vial, which Dr. Whale had left on the table. "Do you think it will work?"
"It has to," she said simply. "If nothing else, to give us more time. And you know... Whale's kinda the expert at this sort of thing, even if his attitude leaves something to be desired."
Killian was tiring rapidly; it had been one hell of an afternoon, and this was the most he'd participated in a conversation since his rescue, if not longer. But he still had one final question before hopefully catching a nap between interruptions.
"Whale mentioned 'data,' gleaned from you and Jones. Did I hear that correctly?"
Emma waved a dismissive hand. "Just a couple of tests he did on us; no big deal."
"You subjected yourselves to becoming his laboratory animals, all on my account?"
"And to help the other rescued slaves." She flashed him a twinkling grin, which softened into loving fondness. "But... yeah, mostly for you."
"Thank you, Emma, truly."
She graced him with a quick kiss, saying,
"You're welcome, and like I said, no big deal, and that's all we're gonna say about that." Noticing his heavy eyelids, she smoothed an eyebrow and then sat back. "We better do that paperwork before you fall asleep. Want me to hold it up so you can read it, or I could read it aloud to you..."
"Don't bother about it, love," he murmured. "You can read them yourself if you'd like, but I think we both know that there isn't much they could say that would change our views on the matter."
Killian cast his eyes on Hope's artwork once more before succumbing to his weariness. Perhaps it would guard his dreams and bring positive thoughts from here on out. Because now that he had a fighting chance at survival, healing his psyche had suddenly become that much more important, and it would most definitely be a longer road than the not-insignificant path to physical health.
Would he be up to the challenge?
________________________________________________________________
AN: Well, obviously I failed to get this posted quickly enough. Blame @cocohook38 and @lillpon for killing me in their own wonderful ways :) Less than 36 hours til I’m on the plane to Ireland!!! Sorry to make you wait for the conclusion! It’s really not that long of a trip, though. I should be back to somewhat functional by July 10 :D
I’m looking for some milestone that gives me an excuse for “Winter Whump” to have lasted this long... XD The closest I’ve come is that I probably had the first inklings of what the premise would be sometime last summer, as sign-ups for the event closed June 30, 2018. So the final chapter will be released approximately 1 year later. *Shrug* Best I can do.
#ouat fanfiction#killian jones#emma swan#ouat regina#dr whale#hospital#pigeons#lillpon found the clues#anyone else?#:D#vocivore ltd#if anyone is a star wars fan#and read the expanded universe novels#the idea for the pigeons came from the ysalamiri#from the thrawn trilogy#lol
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Seriously, for fuck’s sake, I know that post was AT LEAST as far back as December, if not more, and it literally had less than ten notes just two hours ago.
But remember! I’m on a fucking CRUSADE! I just want to take away peoples’ rape fics and harmless kiddie porn fantasies and I just can’t respect the fact that as long as people just TAG their ‘herein lies my advertisement of the fact that hahaha, omg I think what happened to you is actually kinda hot and sexy giggle giggle aren’t I so TABOO????’ smut like lol okay, well that doesn’t affect me at all, I’m not remotely bothered by having to spend every single day wading through reminders of how much more fascinating people find rape than actual survivors of said things.
I’m the one who has no idea how to live in a society with other people and suck it up and deal with the fact that sometimes, people do and say things that make us uncomfortable and we wish we could avoid, but just shut the fuck up and keep that to yourself, right? Don’t like....TELL people they’ve made you uncomfortable and are doing things that you wish they’d think about more critically, gosh, all that’s gonna do is make THEM uncomfortable then, why couldn’t you just kept it to yourself, how dare you think TALKING about problems is the solution?????
Yup yup, I’m clearly the one who has no boundaries and no regard for other people and can’t let people just have their harmless fun, their different opinions that don’t actually affect me, I’m the one who just can’t seem to stop from hunting down posts I don’t agree with and hopping on other blogs and resurrecting weeks or months old posts just to make sure EVERYONE KNOWS THIS POST WAS WROOOOOOONG. Lmao.
Well I’m very sorry for all that, now that mine eyes have been opened! Rape fics are harmless and this is all just fictional, nobody is actually affected in a negative way by anything being talked about here yaaaaaaay!
Anyway, I’m off to spend the rest of the night trying to calm down lolol because fun fact for people who love to talk about being triggered but have no real clue what they’re actually talking about and how that word was never meant to describe being like...upset or angry but rather the stimuli or situations that put survivors and people with PTSD and other mental disorders into actual goddamn panic spirals and attacks. And thus like, triggers are not as fucking obvious as some of you seem to think they are.
Like lol guess what, I actually can read a scene wherein someone’s raping someone in a scene that looks or sounds EXACTLY LIKE MY RAPE and it can be heart-wrenching and it can be graphic and it can be emotional and I can still not be triggered by that! Know why? Because shockingly, I AM aware that this is just fictional! That these are just fictional characters! That no fictional character and no real person has been harmed in the writing of this scene, because FICTIONAL CHARACTERS CAN’T BE HARMED! Know what else fictional characters can’t be? RAPED. Because rape is not a VISUAL, rape is not an ACTION, rape is not a SPECIFIC SEQUENCE OF EVENTS. Rape is a THEFT, it is one person STEALING another person’s ability to control what happens with their body, taking what they have no right to take, just because they WANT to, just because they CAN. And thus NO rape scene, no matter HOW well written or realistically depicted, is ever going to BE a rape scene, just like no ‘rape fantasy’ roleplay is ever going to BE rape because without an actual DYNAMIC of one person taking something the other person has no power to stop, when its two equally consenting partners or two flat fictional characters on a page, it is still nothing more than a SIMULATION of rape, and NEVER ANYTHING MORE THAN THAT.
And guess what? I can handle THAT just fine. THAT doesn’t trigger me no matter how much it reminds me of my own trauma, because I KNOW DAMN WELL THAT ISN’T REAL.
But you know what IS real? You know what DOES trigger me? The CONTEXT of the scene. The REASON it was written, the intended REACTION of the reader.
The part that makes me lose my fucking shit is when I’m forced to face the reality that this scene exists, was written, because somebody found it HOT and SEXY and wanted to share it with people who’d see it the same way. The reason I lose my goddamn MIND and my adrenaline ramps up and my whole body starts shaking as my fight or flight instincts kick in with no actual outlet because there’s no actual threat, just the phantom reminder of a threat I couldn’t escape from....THAT fun little adventure comes from looking or hearing about things that remind me of my rape, take me back to that fucking room and make me a terrified out of my goddamn mind dumbass nineteen year old all over again.....and knowing that this is HOT to the writer and readers, that this is intended as sexually gratifying, that this scene, this depiction, this simulation of one person STEALING from another powerless person SOMETHING THEY WILL NEVER EVER FUCKING BE ABLE TO GET BACK AS LONG AS THEY LIVE, THE SENSE OF SAFETY AND SECURITY THAT COMES FROM BEING THE ONLY PERSON WHO GETS TO DECIDE WHO HAS ACCESS TO YOUR BODY....knowing that this little smutty fic exists so people can read this and be TURNED ON by this, so they can GET OFF to this, this thing they’re looking at in their mind, reading about, picturing as they stare down at their screen getting all hot and bothered....
JUST LIKE MY FUCKING RAPIST LOOKED WHEN GETTING OFF FROM TAKING THOSE THINGS FROM ME.
THAT is what fucking triggers me, THAT is what makes me feel unsafe and panicky, THAT is what traps me all over again in that fucking goddamn room and leaves me STUCK there no matter how many years its been and HOW far I’ve come in getting past it...
THE CONSTANT NEVER ENDING REMINDER THAT PEOPLE THINK ITS TOTALLY NO BIG DEAL TO FUCKING AGREE WITH MY RAPIST ABOUT HOW FUCKING HOT AND SATISFYING THE VIEW IS FROM UP THERE.
And all the fucking trigger warnings in the world don’t protect me from THAT, they just emphasize how little people actually give a shit, they just want the magic answer to how they can have their fun ‘harmless’ little rape KINK without having someone make them feel bad for the fact that the rank goes FUN RAPE FANTASIES YAY first and survivors who have a problem with that way the fuck last.
Anyway, so that’s what I’ll be doing all night! Links to my paypal and my ko-fi are on my main blog page if anyone’s ever felt informed or learned anything from any of my many, many, MANY posts about this stuff or any form of gratitude for the effort I DO or at least once DID put into sorting through my thoughts and making my points in some kind of way that actually addresses the usual conversations around all this.
Because guess what? It IS goddamn fucking emotional labor. It DOES take work! Its EXHAUSTING. It HURTS. I would give anything in the world to NOT pick at that giant fucking scab as often as I do, but I DONT HAVE THAT OPTION. Because not talking about it DOESNT MAKE IT GO AWAY. It doesn’t make LESS for me to have to navigate through every goddamn day of my life and you know what the suggested response to problems that you can’t fix on your own are? Problems with SOCIETY?
HAVING GODDAMN CONVERSATIONS ABOUT IT.
So excuse me for SAYING that as often as I do especially cuz every time I DO I get maybe ten notes of acknowledgment that anyone’s even fucking LISTENING but meanwhile here’s another fucking five hundred on a Batfam or X-Men shit post, now THAT’S the content people want from me!
Guess what! I WANT THAT TO BE MY CONTENT TO!
I would LOVE nothing more than to just be able to happily and comfortably shitpost about my favorite superheroes and write stuff I enjoy and that doesn’t have the flaws I rant about seeing in so many shows and books. I could talk for HOURS about fun thoughts and ideas I have in my head, I could banter back and forth with my friends about nothing of substance at all for DAYS, I don’t NEED to fucking retraumatize myself every goddamn day screaming into the void about this shit so I can feel IMPORTANT or have something INTERESTING to blog about or whatever the fuck people think is my reason for ranting about this shit. ALL. THE. GODDAMN. TIME.
But I can’t do that, because there is not a fucking day that goes by, not a DAY where SOMETHING doesn’t cross my dash, or SOMETHING isn’t on an Ao3 page I’m searching through for fic about a fave character, that doesn’t set me off and make my body start shaking with how deeply, fundamentally UPSETTING it is to constantly be bombarded with reminders of just how easy people find it to reframe my trauma as something hot and sexy and WAY MORE WORTH DEFENDING than the very thought of me going ONE FUCKING DAY without having to stumble across bullshit like that. Because I CAN’T ‘dont like/dont read’ as much is out there. I don’t need to click on a fic to see this is smut fic by an author who thinks rape is hot and judging from the number of kudos and comments and hits is definitely on to something! GUESS I DID MY RAPE WRONG THEN, cuz it wasnt fucking hot for me!
I would love to just ‘avoid’ it so I can actually ENJOY my fucking time on the internet. But I CANT. Because its EVERYWHERE. And god forbid I try and start fucking CONVERSATIONS about that so that maybe, someday, after we’ve done the work as a society to examine WHY PEOPLE ARE SO FUCKING INVESTED IN THIS STUFF, I or at the very least people like me, can someday enjoy one day on the internet where they DONT have to constantly wade through an endless swamp of that shit.
Honestly. Seriously. I have said it so often I can not count. I do not want to censor anyone. I do not want power over what people can read or write. I just. want. to TELL people that when they write this stuff, it has CONSEQUENCES, that there are people it DOES hurt, and have them LISTEN, so that at least, at LEAST the ones who are bothered enough by that realization to NOT be comfortable writing it when faced with the awareness of the fact that their writing HAS THIS EFFECT WHETHER WE SAY IT TO THEIR FACES OR NOT, that THEY at least can decide....hey. What if I just...wrote something else instead?
But what the FUCK am I supposed to do with the constant, incessant reminder that people would rather dig in their heels in defense of their RAPE FANTASIES than roll up their sleeves and do a little fucking examination of WHY they and society at large are so fucking invested in this shit that the very IDEA of ‘giving up’ content like this for the sake of people who have actually LIVED through it, is just....INCOMPREHENSIBLE to them? That they feel ATTACKED by the very idea?
(And don’t fucking come at me with that ‘some survivors use it to cope’ stuff. Yeah, well I used to get in bar fights as my coping mechanism. Didn’t fucking mean it was healthy, and it wasn’t fucking harmless to anyone I punched in the goddamn face, now was it? Also, if you’re not a survivor and you hide behind that line, FEEL FUCKING ASHAMED for thinking of it as a kneejerk response to another survivor telling you your “kink” fucking hurts).
I’m out. See you all later.
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Bottled, Part 6
Words: 3823
Summary: They’re finally free, but there’s still questions needing answering and discussions to be had.
Warnings: mild descriptions of injury care, mild verbal arguments, some yelling
Tags: @yep-another-fander, @softlogic, @tssanderssidestrash, @literallylogic, @diplomatic-arsonist, @saltequeen, @fallingineternity, @satisfied-sanders-sides, @vixenneko, @the-strange-universe-of-cake, @fangirlfiles1, @winds-and-stardust, @the-laarmy, @pfftwhatnoimhuman, @gaysaxaphone, @mira-jadeamethyst, @frustratedwaffle
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Roman had just gotten his hands on a small bottle of healing potion when Patton summoned him to his house.
“Seriously?!” he asked, stumbling into the living room--and into Anxiety.
“Wow, now that I see you in the light, you look like a trainwreck,” Anxiety said.
Roman scowled. “At least I don’t look like a Hot Topic threw up on me.” He pushed himself away from Anxiety and started walking toward the bathroom to take care of his injuries.
“You need to borrow a pair of pants?” Patton asked. “Yours are kinda ruined.”
“Thanks, Patton,” Roman said.
Patton ran off to his room to get a pair of pants while Roman headed for the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and started running the faucet in the bathtub, waiting for it to warm up. Patton knocked and then opened the door just enough to set the pants on the floor, then shut the door and walked away. Roman started undressing the wound, using the warm water to get the sticky blood to let go of the fabric. He got the sash off of his leg first, sighing as he saw its condition. He’d never get the stains out of it. He tossed it aside. The pant leg took more work, and Roman had to be more gentle with it. Finally, he got it all disconnected from his leg, and went to work with the healing potion. Once that was done, he looked himself over for any other injuries. He found several small cuts on his arms that he hadn’t noticed before, and nearly cried over the bloodstains on his white tunic. He knew it didn’t matter, he knew he had others just like it at home in the palace, but it had been a long awful day (days? He still wasn’t sure) and this was the cherry on top. Frustrated, he took off the tunic, so he was standing only in an undershirt and his soaked, ripped pants. Not only were there cuts, there were also dark, banded bruises all over his arms--and when he pulled up his undershirt, his torso, too. For a moment, he was confused, because he didn’t think he tied the ropes that tight when he was on the staircase. Then he remembered the Seed of Doubt, and everything made sense. He regretted using all of the healing potion on his leg.
With a sigh, he searched Patton’s bathroom for bandaids. The only ones he found were brightly colored Steven Universe ones, obviously meant for the kids’ enjoyment. He stuck them on to cover the cuts anyway. He thought about putting his tunic back on, but decided against it, not wanting to chance getting blood on any of Patton’s furniture. Besides, it wasn’t like Patton hadn’t seen him bruised and battered before. He changed pants and tossed his discarded clothing into the bathtub, where they would be out of the way.
Upon walking back into the living room, he saw Anxiety, sitting at the counter between the kitchen and living room and looking at him with genuine alarm. Crap. He’d forgotten about Anxiety.
“I thought you looked bad before--” Anxiety started.
“Shut up,” Roman said, flopping onto the couch, where he promptly passed out.
This did not make Anxiety any less alarmed, but Patton just covered Roman with a blanket and said, “Don’t worry, kiddo. He’s usually like this when he’s hurting.”
Before Anxiety could say anything, Logan popped up. “We’ve been gone for only twenty-two hours,” he said. “Thomas was sleeping for most of them, but not all, so it appears that he can function at least a bit without us influencing him.”
“Twenty-two hours is a bit long, but still in the range of typical time we spend in the bottles,” Patton said.
“Last time we were gone for four days, though,” Anxiety said.
“Yeah, I can’t help you there, buddy. It’s never happened before, I don’t know why it did.”
“Wait, when was this?” Logan asked.
“During the time Roman said they were in the Nightmare realm,” Patton said.
Logan looked to Anxiety for confirmation. He nodded. Logan looked confused. “Why would you two lie to us though? Do you not trust us?”
“We just spent four days in a bottle that got bigger or smaller depending on my emotional state. Seems like a pretty interesting little experiment, doesn’t it?”
It clicked. “You thought I invented the bottles...to see how you would react in them? Oh, Anxiety, I would never make anything to hurt or endanger any of you. Patton may be the one who embodies Thomas’s morals, but that does not mean that I am devoid of them!”
“Yeah, I know,” Anxiety said. “But I had no idea what was going on, and at first I thought it was Roman, so when it wasn’t, the only other options were you, Thomas, or Patton. Patton’s the most unlikely of any of us to cause harm, even unintentionally, so then it’s just you and Thomas, both of whom were right there when we got out. I panicked and Roman covered for me. Of course, now that we know that it’s not any of us, that means it’s definitely Thomas, which is almost more concerning, especially considering that he has a different trap for each of us.”
“There’s still not enough evidence to conclude that it’s ‘definitely Thomas.’ It’s possible that it’s a self-defense mechanism that created itself in order to keep any one of us from having too much influence. It might also be a result of one or more of our parts of the mindscape running amok. Perhaps the Nightmare Realm and the Fairytale Realm have a boundary where they poorly react to each other.”
“So it’s my fault?”
“I did not say that. As Patton said earlier, it might also be ‘the column in the middle of all of us,’ and serve some sort of protective function. The point is, all of this is speculation and without further evidence, such speculation is pointless.” Logan turned to Patton. “Is there any possibility that you might have written down anything related to these traps?”
“I don’t think so, but I can look,” Patton said. He hurried up the stairs to parts unknown.
“I don’t suppose you have any information about them?” Logan asked Anxiety. “Patton said you forget every time.”
Anxiety pushed his right sleeve up to expose an arm covered in notes. “I wrote down everything I know about the last couple times. Anything before that…” he shrugged. “...and if I knew anything at any point in the past and wrote it down, the Fears and Insecurities have probably eaten it by now.”
“You should take care of those things,” Logan said.
“Well I could dump them at your house,” Anxiety said back, glaring. Logan glared back, but refused to get off topic. There were more important things to do right now.
“I’m going to go get a whiteboard, so we can consolidate the data,” Logan said. He snapped out.
Anxiety sighed and rested his head on the counter. Now it was just him and the sleeping Prince.
“Heya, Cuz.”
...And Patton’s children, who he had forgotten about. “I’m not your cousin,” he said, automatically.
“Yeah, well, whatever,” the young teen said. For all he tried, he could not remember her name. She sat down next to him. “Hey guess what?”
“What?”
“Guess.”
“You and your boyfriend broke up.” Anxiety had nothing else to go on. He was rarely at Patton’s house. Her boyfriend was the only thing she’d talked about last time.
“Oh please, that was ages ago. Guess again.”
“I’m not good at guessing. Just tell me.”
She sighed. “Fiiiine. I got to go to that white room place you and Dad and the others always hang out in. Me and Jimothy got to battle a monster teacher before Princey sent us home.”
Anxiety picked his head up and looked at her in disbelief. “...What?”
“Oh yeah, it was really fun. Like, there was this shadow demon thing that was like, possessing one of the subs from school, and I got to use a sword, and Princey banished us but I know I would have won. Jimothy was useless though.”
“And why were you there, exactly?”
“Dunno. Princey said something about daydreams, but it was boring and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Does your Dad know about this?” Anxiety asked, wondering why she was telling him this.
“No, and you’re not gonna tell him.”
“I’m not?”
“You can’t! Dad’ll never let us out of the suburbs again!” Anxiety briefly considered doing it out of spite, but shrugged that impulse off. He had no reason to cause family drama. He wasn’t even part of the family.
The kid took his silence for assent and changed the subject. “I think Professor Logan ships you and Princey.”
Logan popped in, with two large, rolling whiteboards, instead of just one. “I have returned,” he called out.
The kid smirked, and mumbled, “Speak of the devil,” then ran off. Anxiety was confused by the entire exchange. Patton’s family was weird. They got weirder every time he visited.
“Making friends?” Logan asked.
“No,” Anxiety said.
“Pity. Rebecca’s a nice girl. I would think that you two would get on like a house on fire.”
“I feel like those two statements are contradictory.”
“Not at all. You wouldn’t believe how often she talks about her ‘favorite older cousin’ in my physics class.”
“Yeah? Who’s that?”
Logan looked like he couldn’t believe Anxiety had just said that. “...You. She was talking about you.”
“But I’m not related.”
“Patton considers us all part of a family, and therefore so does his children.”
“Right, so, so, what? Does that make you and Patton the gay dads, and then Roman’s like, uh, the vodka aunt, and I’m the emo cousin or something?”
Logan’s cheeks flushed. “Patton and I aren’t dating,” he said.
“Really? I have several pages of evidence that say otherwise.”
Logan’s eyebrows shot up, and then he realized that Anxiety was teasing him about earlier. He threw a marker at Anxiety, who ducked, laughing. “Asshole,” Logan muttered.
“Real mature, Teach.”
“We were going to consolidate all of our available data, were we not? Let’s stay on track.”
Logan pulled out his notebook and started transferring notes to a whiteboard. Anxiety got the other whiteboard marker from where it had landed in the kitchen and started doing the same thing with the notes on his arm.
Logan glanced over at Anxiety’s writing. “Wow,” he said.
“What?”
“I can barely read that, and I’m a teacher.”
“You know what? The English language wasn’t designed for lefties.”
“I’m left-handed too, and I write perfectly legibly.”
“You write in all capital letters.”
“And it is legible, therefore your comment does not strengthen your argument. The real question is: why is your handwriting so much worse on the whiteboard than your arm?”
“I’m trying to make the letters not erase. I can’t put my hand on the board. Also, this is bigger than I ever write normally.”
“...Have you never written on a whiteboard before?”
“Why would I have?”
Logan “hmmm”ed but didn’t respond. He supposed that made sense. The Fears and Insecurities didn't seem like the type of creatures that would enjoy free body diagrams.
He left Anxiety to his notes, and on the other whiteboard, he drew a diagram of each of the other traps, with everything he had observed about them underneath. There wasn't much, though that made sense since they had only encountered the other traps for a short amount of time, and only once. Plus, the other traps only worked on one or two people, as opposed to all four of them. He also added a section for the grayspace itself.
“I'm back!” Patton said, coming down the stairs. “I didn't find anything except this paper that I can't read. It's not mine or the kids’ handwriting though, so I thought it might be important.”
Anxiety took the paper from him. “This is my handwriting,” he said, confused. He scanned through the page. “I don’t remember writing this though...it talks about the bottles...but it doesn’t tell us anything we don’t already know.”
“It does, though, doesn’t it?” Logan said. The other two looked at him blankly. “It tells us that at one point, Anxiety knew about the bottles and remembered what happened after he escaped.” He took the paper, reading it through. Once he was finished, he added, “Also, if you read this, it mentions that Patton was the one who broke the bottle and didn’t remember anything afterwards. Thus, it can be theorized that there is a correlation between breaking the bottle and forgetting the whole event, though without more data it will remain only a theory.”
“Wait, really?” Anxiety asked, snatching the paper back and reading it over. “...huh.”
“Patton, would you read over our notes and determine if there’s anything that we overlooked or that you noticed in addition to these?” Logan asked.
“Sure,” Patton said. He started with the whiteboard for the bottles, and immediately turned back. “I can’t read half of these notes, though.”
“It is not that bad!” Anxiety said.
“It is that bad, kiddo. Who taught you to write?” Patton asked, with actual concern.
“You could read my handwriting just fine in the bottles!”
“Yes, but it was legible in the bottles,” Patton said.
“Also, for the most part, it was me reading it,” Logan said. “Start with the other whiteboard, Patton. I’ll rewrite the notes over here.”
Patton went to the other whiteboard. “I notice you have the ‘cube’ and ‘bear trap’ sections empty except for their pictures,” he said immediately.
“That is because I know nothing about them.”
“Well the bear trap snapped at you when it got too close,” Patton said. “You didn’t even set it off, it just jumped up and tried to bite you.”
Anxiety handed Patton the other whiteboard marker. “They also went off when I put a Seed of Doubt on the trigger,” he said. “But they don’t snap around you or me. Dunno about Roman, though, since he didn’t get anywhere near them.”
“The cube things didn’t react at all,” Patton said, starting to write underneath the ‘bear trap’ category. “Of course, we didn’t really go near them, but they didn’t do anything.”
“Perhaps they aren’t traps,” Logan said. “We don’t know for certain that--”
“LOGIC!”
Logan vanished, along with his marker, called away by Thomas. Patton and Anxiety glanced at each other nervously, but only for a second.
“MORALITY!”
Patton and his marker vanished too. Anxiety sighed irritably. Now he couldn’t even carry on without them.
“ROMAN!”
Roman didn’t vanish. He barely even moved, except to stir a bit and say, “Go away, Thomas.”
There was silence for a moment, and then, “ROMAN?”
All Roman did was groan irritably.
Anxiety snapped into Thomas's living room before he was called, worried that Logan and Patton would screw things up.
“Anxiety!” Thomas said, surprised. “I was just about to call you.”
“What do you want, Sanders?” Anxiety asked irritably.
“Well, first, I would like to know where Roman is.”
“Oh, I think you've had quite enough of his influence for now. Remember yesterday?” Technically, that didn’t answer the question, but Anxiety didn’t want him to know they had all been conspiring together at Patton’s house.
“Yeah, that kinda leads me to my next question: What's been going on lately? It feels like my entire brain has been conspiring against me! What is up with you guys?”
The three traits looked at each other. Logan couldn’t lie; his existence was based on facts and logic, and lying was a direct contradiction of both of those. Patton couldn’t lie either; lying was immoral and he simply couldn’t do it. Anxiety could lie, but he was always too afraid of getting caught to focus on doing it convincingly.
“Us? Conspiring against you?” Anxiety asked.
“Yes!” Thomas said.
“Are you sure it isn’t the other way around?” Anxiety asked accusingly.
“Yes,” Thomas said. “Wait, what? Why would I be conspiring against you? You’re a part of me!”
“Sure, but maybe you don’t want us anymore. Maybe we’re villains to you. Maybe you feel the need to trap us, lock us away.”
“Look, if this is about the last video--”
“Maybe you feel the need to bottle your emotions.”
“Yeah, I sure have been doing that a lot lately. Wait, why did you say it like that?”
“Why do you think, Thomas?” Anxiety asked. He was losing control of this. Gosh, he did not plan this out well. Or at all.
“Does me bottling things up affect Patton?”
“He’s not the only--” Wait. Crap. This was not what he wanted to happen. “Dammit, Sanders!”
“Wait, does it affect you too? Both of you?”
Well, so much for not confronting Thomas about this.
“It would appear that when you get upset, you literally bottle up your emotions,” Logan explained. “And sometimes the rest of us with them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I was trapped in a stupid champagne bottle with Princey for four days, Thomas!” The game was up. Might as well get all his frustration out with it.
Roman finally popped in, yawning. “You called?”
Thomas looked horrified. “What happened to you?”
Roman squinted uncomprehendingly. “What?” Then it clicked. “Oh.” He popped out, and popped in moments later, wearing a stainless tunic, and still wearing Patton’s pants. “Better?”
“No, not better! You looked like you went through the apocalypse!”
“You know, my appearance has been insulted all day! Not once has anyone called me pretty or handsome, it’s all ‘disaster,’ ‘trainwreck,’ ‘apocalypse!’”
“You look pretty,” Anxiety said, and as Roman turned to him in delight, he added, “...awful.”
“I do not like you!”
“Guys! Not helpful!” Thomas said. “Roman, what happened to you?”
“I almost died in a heroic attempt to save Logic. No biggie,” Roman said.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Anxiety said. “Patton said the traps won’t kill us.”
“The bottles won’t kill you! I am made of hopes and dreams! I’m very certain that that could have killed me!”
“Boys!” Patton snapped. Both of them looked at him. “Calm down. You’re scaring Thomas.”
“Good,” Anxiety said. “After everything we’ve been through for the past few days, he deserves it.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on but I want to fix it guys!” Thomas said. “Please, just help me understand!”
“Perhaps it would be best just to show him?” Logan asked.
“But he’s not a shapeshifter!” Anxiety said. “Who knows what might happen?”
“Well, he’s managed to summon us out of the grayscape,” Roman said. “Surely we could do the same for him, especially if we all work together.”
“Besides, he’s not part of the mind,” Patton said. “He’s a real person in the real world. I don’t think he can be trapped in there.”
“Ever heard the phrase ‘trapped in your own mind?’” Anxiety said. “What if we can’t get him out? Something bad could happen!”
Roman was about to tell him how ridiculous he was being, but he saw Anxiety’s face. Genuine worry. He realized this wasn’t just idle, anxious complaining.
“You have a point,” he conceded.
“No, don’t go to his side,” Logan said. “He’s being illogical!”
“Is he?” Roman said. “We, while being the cores of Thomas, are not all of Thomas. Even combined, it’s possible that we won’t have the power to summon him back. Also, consider how many other phrases have turned literal in the grayspace. ‘Bottled emotions,’ ‘Seeds of Doubt,’ uh, ‘creative block,’ and...honestly I got nothing for the bear traps, but I’m sure it’s something. It’s not unreasonable to think that Thomas could be trapped inside his own mind within the grayspace.”
Patton made a worried noise that Logan knew meant that Roman had convinced him.
“All right,” Logan said. “What do you propose we do instead?”
There was silence for a moment. Then Anxiety said, “We could show him the whiteboards. That would work, wouldn’t it? Everything we know about everything is there already.”
Logan thought about it for a moment. “Acceptable,” he said, and snapped.
Suddenly, the five of them were in Patton’s house. “Whoa,” Thomas said. “This looks like my dream house.”
“It is your dream house,” Roman said. “Well, as far as your realistic, domestic dreams go.”
“Sit down, Thomas,” Logan said, gesturing to the couch. Thomas sat down. Logan wheeled the whiteboards in front of the TV.
Logan was the one who primarily did the talking, with all of the others--who were scattered across the living room furniture--chipping in whenever they felt necessary. Roman chipped in a lot, especially when they got to the non-bottles board. He’d been asleep during the original note-taking, but he’d experienced the most inside the grayspace, since he’d had to traverse it alone and had wandered all over trying to find them.
Once they were finally finished, Thomas said, “Okay, I see what you guys are nervous about, but I just don’t know how to fix it. Here and the mind palace that Roman created are the only actual places within my mind that I’ve ever been, and I certainly don’t know how to manipulate it. I really want to help, but I’m not sure what I can do.”
“Just try,” Roman said.
“Yeah, kiddo!” Patton said. “Just try not to bottle us up or keep us down anymore, okay?”
“Any of us,” Anxiety said forcefully.
Thomas nodded solemnly. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “I promise.”
“That is acceptable,” Logan said.
~
As Roman was getting ready to spar one day, he realized that he’d misplaced his shield. He looked all over the armory for it. Then he remembered where he put it.
He summoned himself into the grayspace, curious to see if it was still there. Surprisingly, it was. He picked up his shield from where it still lay against the wall, and turned around.
He saw nothing.
Curious, he walked further away from the wall, confident that he could escape from anywhere in the room. The only things he found were the bear traps. Those pointless, pointless bear traps. They were everywhere, probably the same amount as what had been when there were other traps as well, but they seemed more plentiful when compared to the absence of the other traps.
He made it to the stairs, and out of curiosity, climbed up. Once he reached the top, he looked around. Up here, there were still a few bottles, a few dandelion heads, one block trap. And so many bear traps. However, there were not as many as there had been, and none of them looked like they had been used in a long time. It seemed that Thomas really had been trying to make sure that none of them got trapped anymore.
Roman smiled, changed into Terrence, and popped out.
It was acceptable.
#roman sanders#patton sanders#logan sanders#anxiety sanders#i'm not sure if i'm happy with this ending but idk how else to end it#let me know if you want to stay on the tag list for other stuff or if you only wanted to be there for bottled#bottled
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Misconceptions Chapter 3- Misdemeanors
Fandom: Little Witch Academia | Pairing: DianAkko / DiAkko
Word Count: 2,090 | Read Time: ~ 9 Minutes
Chapter 1: Misconceptions | Chapter 2: Misdirections
A.N: Takes place right after episode 12 and before Episode 13
Bonus art by @azurathemagician
Unwinding after classes or school activities usually meant that the green and red teams would hang out somewhere, either in red team’s room or out in the courtyard. Most of the following shenanigans were practical jokes played on each other and occasional daring missions that stemmed from gossip. The current one was that somewhere in the library existed a secret room, and all one needed to do was pull the proper book from the shelf to access it.
Amanda and Akko were chasing each other around the library, competing to see who could pull books out the fastest. Lotte had been clumsily following and replacing the books whenever possible. Meanwhile Constanze had pulled out blueprints of the library’s layouts and began marking down possible places where a room could, in fact, be hidden, whilst Sucy looked over her shoulder and tapped out suggestions every time Constanze got stuck. Jasmika was the only one not helping at all, but only because she was too busy munching quietly on a bag of chips. Eventually Constanze and Sucy would have a breakthrough or Akko and Amanda would give up, and from the looks of it, Akko and Amanda were giving up far too early.
Akko was the first to plop down, sitting in one of the many cushioned lounging chairs by the fireplace, sinking herself slowly as if she might melt away into the ground. Amanda only leaned against the chair, glancing over to Sucy and Constanze. “You two find anything yet?” She received only a head shake and now Amanda was the one slumping away into nothing.
“All that running around must have you thirsty,” Lotte said, trying to be helpful as she sat down across from Akko and Amanda. “Would you two like some tea?”
Amanda’s face lit up, instantly enthused by the thought of something other than sitting and waiting. “Jasna makes the best tea!” She hopped up off the chair and moved over to Jasminka. “Hey, Jasna, can you make us some tea?”
Jasminka nodded and pushed in her chair, and Lotte tagged along with her. “I have a set big enough for all six of us,” she assured, and the two of them walked away.
With Constanze and Sucy off on a hunt for the mysterious hidden room, and Jasminka and Lotte gone, Amanda had no other option but to bug Akko. “Whatcha thinking about?” she asked, as she approached, hands behind her head. “You’ve got the million mile stare going for ya.”
Akko hadn’t really realized she’d slipped out of the moment until Amanda brought her back into it. Things were moving so quickly before when they were tearing apart the library, but now everything was still, slow motion even, and Akko had tossed her head back to stare at the ceiling without much thought on the matter. “Nothing, I’m just relaxing I guess.”
“Relaxing?” Amanda smiled, leaning over Akko a little. “Akko, you’ve been doing a lot of relaxing these days. What’s on your mind? It’s like- ever since you snuck into Hanbridge Manor for that dumb party you haven’t had your head on straight.”
‘Maybe that’s because I’m not straight,’ Akko thought, but didn’t want that to be her big coming out moment. No, it needed to be far more grand than a comeback. It’s funny that Amanda would even mention the event at all seeing as how she had little to no interest when it came to school social functions, let alone ones outside school, at least not outside of club settings. “I dunno. A lot’s happened over the course of the semester,” Akko wasn’t technically lying, but she was omitting one important detail...
“Is this about Diana?”
Yeah... That...
“N-no! What?” Akko sat up almost immediately, whipping around to face Amanda. “Why would it be about Diana?”
“’Cuz you’ve been doing nothing but gawking at her for the past few days and it’s kinda weirding me out,” Amanda shrugged. “I mean- I guess she’s got her charms but you said she’s a pain in the ass.”
‘No, you did,’ Akko wanted to correct Amanda but refrained. “She’s gorgeous, and obnoxiously perfect, and such a stickler for rules. There’s no way I’d like someone as stuck up and feign as her.” Akko waved her hand dismissively.
Amanda chuckled at Akko’s insistence, though she wasn’t buying it for a minute. “Alright, alright, quit your yapping. I get it. Diana’s a stubborn princess.”
“Thank you,” Akko said, although it stung a little to agree. “I’m glad we’re seeing eye to eye.”
“So it would seem,” Amanda mused, and slipped away from Akko to clear space on the small coffee table in front of her as Jasminka and Lotte came back with tea and snacks. Leave it to Jasminka to bring food when it wasn’t required of her. “Constanze, Sucy. Tea’s served,” Amanda called over to the two who were sitting at a desk, far from the fireplace.
Sucy moved to push in her chair, turning to look at Constanze who motioned for the other girl to continue on without her. She didn’t have to say anything for Sucy to understand the simple gesture of “I’ll be done in a minute.” Constanze really could be a workaholic when she wanted something. Sucy merely shrugged and moved to sit down next to Lotte and across from Akko. Jasminka took the fourth chair and Amanda sat on the arm rest of Akko’s since Akko wasn’t taking up much room to begin with.
As everyone settled into their tea, and cozy chairs, Akko decided it was now or never. And as nervous as she was, she should at least trust them enough to tell her friends what she still was having trouble being honest with herself about. “Girls,” Akko started, clearing her throat. “I need to come clean about something.”
Akko glanced over at Constanze who looked up to the crowd the moment Akko had broken the silence and raised a brow, as if to ask if she was supposed to be included in this conversation as well. It only took a nod from Sucy and a gesture from Akko and Amanda for Constanze to roll up her schematics and tuck them away before moving to the space behind Akko’s chair, listening intently.
“So what did you do this time?” Sucy asked, a small smirk on her face. “Did you drink another one of my potions by accident?”
“Are you running from the law because you killed the president of the Anti-Chariot club?” Amanda chimed in, sipping her tea.
“Did you find your long lost lover who travelled across the world in search of you, and now the two of you are going to elope?” Lotte threw in, eyes sparkling in the fire’s radiant glow.
“No, no, no, none of those things,” Akko shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. At least, I don’t think I have.”
This would honestly be easier if everyone could read minds, but Akko felt grateful that they couldn’t see all the embarrassing thoughts she’d been having about Diana over the course of the past few weeks. “I just need to clear the air about something...”
“Akko, you can tell us anything,” Lotte said, a concerned frown finding its way to her lips. “There’s no need to beat around the bush.”
“Yeah, Akko, we’re your friends.” Amanda ruffled Akko’s head. “We’re here for you no matter what, man.” Constanze threw in a thumbs up from her end and Sucy smiled along side Lotte. Jasminka offered a chip and Akko took it gratefully.
All eyes were on her as she took in a sharp breathe, this time filled with determination. “I’m bisexual,” she said, in quick exhale. “I like boys. But I like girls too. In fact, I like girls a heck of a lot more than boys some times...”
The silence that grew between them was almost unsettling til Amanda broke it with a laughter she simply couldn’t contain anymore. “Akko, we know.”
“You know?” Akko looked surprised. “You all knew I liked girls and no one said anything?”
“What’s there to say? There’s nothing wrong with it,” Sucy shrugged. “Some of us might even agree with you on that stance...” She glanced to Constanze who, in turn looked to Amanda.
“Yeah,” Amanda said, grinning proudly, as if she’d been given a badge of honor. “Girls are a work of art.”
“Either way,” Lotte interrupted Amanda’s gloating mood to bring the topic back to Akko. “We still love and support you.”
Akko smiled, the kind of relieved smile you see in hospital rooms in coma wards and church halls on wedding nights, the kind that comes when the weight of the world rolls off your shoulders as if it never existed in the first place. Akko felt tears swelling up in her eyes and she wiped them away without a second thought. “You guys are the best.”
Diana had fled the room after Hannah and Barbara had started their usual nightly chatters. She’d tuned out after hearing their back and forth on Amanda, and practically stormed out of the room when they brought up Akko. “I’ll be in the library,” Diana cut into the conversation without giving either of them much room to respond. Although she usually could handle herself in her own section of the room, it was just far too much to ignore, especially while she was working on preparations for the festival and trying to stay on top of her emotions.
She’d had a bit of time between where she was and where she wanted to be to collect her thoughts. Everything had been happening so quickly. The mirror that showed her inner desires, she was glad she could play it off. But Akko... becoming her doppelgänger? What was that about? She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know.
The festival just around the corner, and that being said most everyone was working hard on keeping the place in top condition for the new arrivals. The library was practically empty because of this as well, and that was something Diana was enjoying. She didn’t want to have to answer to anyone else while dealing with her own problems.
She was on the second floor, skimming idly through books when she heard a fit of laughter downstairs. She had been partially startled by the outburst of noise in such a normally quiet place and decided to investigate. There was really no need for anyone to be in the library at this point, so she prepared herself in case the group needed a proper scolding.
From the top of the stairs she could see Akko and company, goofing off in their usual manner. Diana was halfway down the staircase when she made eye contact with Amanda who had slipped into Akko’s lap in that precise moment. The action was like striking down a rod of flint because Diana felt something burning inside of her as she watched Akko become absolutely flustered by Amanda’s presence, but she couldn’t quite place her finger on the word for the feeling. She’d stopped halfway down the stairs without meaning to, unable to take her eyes off of the scene unfolding.
Skin on skin contact was not something Akko was used to, especially not bare legs brushing against her own. Amanda had slid into her lap so effortlessly there was no way to mistake the action as anything but purposeful. “In honor of you coming out, you get the honor of having the hottest girl in all of Luna Nova in your lap,” Amanda teased. Yep. Definitely on purpose.
Akko felt her face turn bright red as Amanda put an arm around her. “Amanda! What are you--” her eyes met Diana’s and everything seemed to freeze up. It was as if the world stopped on the two of them and there was nothing else in existence... and then Diana began to descend the staircase without a word, quick to turn on her heel and rush out. Akko slid Amanda out of her lap quickly. “I-I’ll be right back,” she said not really giving anyone else much of a say in the matter before she was chasing Diana down an endless rabbit hole.
Amanda stood up and slid into Akko’s chair, a soft smirk on her face. “Love is in the air, Girls~” she sang. She knew exactly what she was doing when she slid into Akko’s lap, and as she’d anticipated, Diana was in fact jealous. Akko would just have to thank her later. Or curse her. Amanda would probably accept either.
(Next Chapter)
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ya know that ask meme that went around a while ago about like five things you would use to summon me turns out i just need like two and its u calling me baby and sayin ur feelin jewish. jane bordeaux playlist has been started and so far it is all of the songs off of אוקיינוסים (except the 12 second one) so maybe itll just end up being a complete discography but i will share when i am done after i have a chance to work on it between assignments (1/?)
ivri is so great i press play and just feel so calm with the piano and soft voice and like in kar kar when some1 else sings wow love it sm theres this trick where u put ur phone under ur pillow and its supposed to sound like laying on some1s chest while they sing to u and it sorta works so highly recommend with this album. i think that ill also go back to repressing broke ass millionaire and all the other english versions of their songs which i accidentally discovered and rlly wish i didnt (2/?)
okay i saw ur convo w kj about tashlich and bread and eels and bleach (wtf yall) and it might have been kj that tagged baruch hashem????? but i have no idea and i cant search her blog to find it? so who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ a very jewish 5sos mystery. but yea it sucks not getting class off for high holy days and my profs are usually understanding but teachers were Not understanding in high school in the south damn... (3/?)
zoom services do not sound fun but idk its easier for me to fast if im in services than if im in class maybe just cuz im so used to associating services w fasting idk i guess well see what i do too my colleges jewish group is putting together a list of cool services and some sound cool but also zoom means u can just leave when ur bored so... okay jewish geography! i may have to come off anon for this at some point but i lived in maryland for year! (4/?)
but i also know people in nfty and now i go to school in mass so theres some possible places? i also know a lot of jewish people in chicago from a urj camp if that sparks anything someone i went to camp with just did competitive jewish geography where two random people had to figure out a way to this specific person by calling in friends and its such a funny concept to me but also they ended up getting to the person so uh jewish geography works (5/?)
anyway i am always down to be jewish on main i do not have enough jewish friends and i would like them i will also continue to send long multi-part asks because i always have too much to say yikes sorry :)) (6/6) - שירים
PUTTING A READ MORE
thats so fucking funny im just gonna toss the words baby and jewish into random sentences and see if you come. also i am looking forward to this playlist and second side note if you have any ADDITIONAL hebrew artists please share those with me too i am trying to expand my repertoire even more
god i KNOW ha’ahava (the album) is just so soothing. like it’s so calming. ha’yeled sheli?? karosella??? ffffffffffff such a nice song however im going to admit something which is that i personally think kar kar would be nicer if it didn’t have the woman singing on it. like it just kind of jars me and im already in love with ivri’s voice and then it is rudely taken away i am not about that life BUT nevertheless the woman singing it with him still has a lovely voice so i can’t complain too much. however perhaps one day i shall have to try that phone under pillow trick hmmmmmm
GKFJGKDJKJJGFDKJ she said that the river near her is infested with poisonous snakes !!!! and i think tashlich is more important. but at any rate i don’t see why you can’t just toss the bread to the snakes. anyway i have to be honest i don’t think kj uses phrases like baruch hashem but it might have been her and i couldn’t find it on my own blog (even though. i am frankly almost 100% sure ive tagged something w that before, tumblr’s search function is just garbage lmao)
yeah my profs here have always been understanding but i bet in the south they weren’t yikes that is Tragic
omg okay i don’t know how much i should reveal to you in public to my whole entire blog i might doxx myself by accident i know i think one person in NFTY (i did USY, peripherally) and.........as for mass and chicago im not sure?? i think i know like random people here and there but mainly the places i know w loads of jews are like, new york, new jersey, atlanta........texas..........midwest a bit..........random places HOWEVER i have heard of that game and im pretty sure i know someone who played it im trying to remember which of my family members was relating that story to me but anyway thats really fuckin funny i mean yes jewish geography genuinely does work
CLEARLY i am also always down to be jewish on main so feel free to come jew it up in here whenever
#KJ IF YOU'RE READING THIS#you receive an honorable mention in this ask#shirim anon#always a pleasure shirim anon <3#anonymous#ask#answered
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