#// them not knowing the way out the area they're in

[yaseraphinee]

pick a card 2 - what do people like about you ? 

PILE 1.

The Star , 3 of Cups , 4 of Wands, King of Pentacles, Justice, The Emperor, 4 of cups, 3 of swords

The girls’ girl pile :  “90% of life is confidence. The thing about confidence is that nobody knows if it’s real or not.”

If you're not a girl or don't identify as such, this pile might not resonate. 

You really know how to have fun and bring fun anywhere you go. You are always down to party. You might have hosted or organized parties and people think you’re the best host ever! You probably did one or two memorable parties that were so good even though it was a while ago people still remember until this day and probably still talk about it months, even years after. 

If you haven’t hosted parties, then you’re the life of the party anywhere you go! People truly get addicted to your infectious energy : you’re not afraid to share your cup with others. Just like in the 3 of cups’ illustration, you raise a toast with everyone you meet, celebrating the small wins in life, not afraid that your cup might spill a bit from the shock of the metals together.

People like how you dance and move your body. You’re probably a really good dancer. You’re not scared to embarrass yourself by being the only one on the dancefloor at a dull party. You simply don’t care of other people’s judgements : you came to a party/club , you’re here to FUCKING DANCE. You’re probably the type to not understand why people don’t dance in clubs like the girl you paid to be here. Why are you shyly swinging like that ??!! get your ass up and dance! 

People love your confidence and how contagious it is. You remind me of Maddy Perez from Euphoria. Even if you don’t identify with being a woman, you have this undeniable star quality and fierceness that makes people both envious and inspired. (I just realized I wrote “love” here instead of “like” as the title of the pick a card indicates/suggets. There is just something about that is so out of the ordinary that people simply cannot have mild reactions about you. You incite extreme emotions inside people the moment you walk in a room. The energy, the way you smile. Everything.

People like the fact that you’re probably a girl’s girl. Even though you have a really intimidating exterior and girlboss energy, you also have this softer side that makes people feel so safe. I think you probably went through hell and back to attain the confidence that you have today. Part of your purpose here is probably to help people feel better in their skins. You’re a baddie healer basically. I am seeing girls’ bathrooms in clubs or other public areas like that. You probably helped many girls/ or heartbroken people who were hiding in the bathroom during a party. The type of girl in middle school/ high school that instead of making fun of a girl for having a period stain, would tell her and help her change/ or get rid of the stain without telling anyone. The type of girl in a group that sees that one person that is left out and that asks about their opinion regarding the conversation they're having so that they feel included. The type of girl that would give beauty tips to girls who struggled with their “femininity” growing up or were in a strict or religious household that didn’t let them put makeup on or act girly.

The scene with Lexi and Maddy, where Maddy teaches Lexi about confidence while putting lip liner on her, sums up this “girls’ girl” side of you. Lexi says she feels stupid with the makeup on. To that, Maddy answers that everyone feels stupid and  that it's a choice that she made to stop feeling that way. Lexi replies that she doesn't know if she is able to stop feeling stupid so maddy tells her that “ 90% of life is confidence. The thing about confidence is that nobody knows if it’s real or not.” 

(do you work in the beauty industry by any chance ? like are you a nail tech, a hairdresser, a makeup artist or an esthetician ? there is something prominent about that field of work here.) 

Placements you might have : moon in leo, sun in leo, moon in aries, sun in aries, sun in sagittarius, cancer placements, Venus in cancer, Venus in Leo, Pluto in the 1st house, Chiron in an angular house (1st, 4th, 7th, 10th house), Chiron in Leo, North node in Leo, North node in Aquarius, Mars in Leo, Aries or Sagittarius, Mars in Libra, Saturn in Leo, Sun in leo conjunct Saturn, Saturn in the 5th house, 8th house placements, Lilith in Leo, Lilith in Aquarius

You might have a master number as a Lifepath ( life path 11, 22 or 33. For you I am mostly picking up life path 11 or 33, The illuminator/Psychic and the Spiritual teacher.)

=> link of the scene with Maddy and Lexi about confidence

SONG : Feel it - Ayesha Erotica (the song is so spot on i swear ayesha's songs are the epitome of leo energy slayy)

PILE 2.

Page of Pentacles, 6 of cups, 4 of cups, Judgement, The Hierophant, The Moon, The Hanged Man, 9 of swords

A diamond in the rough

First and foremost, this pile has a really different energy from pile 1. They’re probably even opposite lol. If you want to read pile 1 before reading this one, don't hesitate as it might help you understand the description better (which is not so clear at times).You are literally the person that is helped/ or feels healed by the archetype of person described in pile 1.  It’s like both of your piles are complementary.

You might lack a bit of self-confidence, and might have a hard time affirming yourself yet I weirdly feel this is what people like about you ?? It’s like maybe they see you holding yourself back when you could accomplish so much but they are not concerned for you because they know you will accomplish great things in life eventually.

You can be a bit  shy or reserved, and people like that about you. They think it's cute.

People like your social awkwardness. Despite having a hard time socializing, you still try your best to keep up with the conversations and what is going on around you and people find it really cute. It’s like people like the fact that they can protect you, or defend you. You might appear like you’re often lost or in your head.

People like the fact that they can see your potential before you can even see it yourself.

It's kind of weird to be honest but it’s like they like the fact that they can imagine endless possibilities for your future.

They like the fact that you don’t see your potential in a way ?? It’s hard to explain because it doesn’t come from ill intentions at all

They like how talented you are. I am picking up on how raw your talent is. They like your raw beauty, your raw talents : your raw everything. There is something so real about you. I don’t think you do it consciously but you have no filters : you live your life in all honesty and authentically.

This might not be for everyone but I am picking up that some of you are like this because you’re neuroatypical/ neurodivergent. It’s just the way your brain works naturally.

They like how “naive” you are, not in a derogatory sense as in “you don’t understand life” but they find it refreshing that you just live and experience things without suppressing your true inner feelings

They like how you live your emotions fully, whether they’re good or bad. This might make people uncomfortable at times, because your rawness subconsciously triggers their shadow and what they suppress in their lives.

People basically like how you act as a mirror without intending to. They like that you work as a catalyst for change, but you’re not even aware of it.

People see that you have a superpower, something that you do naturally that they could never achieve and they like it. Just like pile one you trigger AND inspire them at the same time but in a different way.

They like how unique you are. You truly are a diamond in the rough.

This pile was a little shorter than the other piles, but I think the message is just pretty straightforward.

Placements you might have : sun in aquarius, sun in pisces, neptune dominant, Uranus and Neptune in the first house, Pisces stellium, Aquarius stellium, Gemini rising, Virgo rising, Libra rising, Venus in Capricorn, Saturn in the 6th house, Pluto in the 4th house, 5th house and 4th house placements, Saturn in the 2nd house, Jupiter in the 4th house, 5th house

SONGS : Perfect night - LE SSERAFIM / Chilhood dreams - ARY / Class of 2013 - Mitski

PILE 3.

Ace of cups, Strength, Temperance, Page of Cups, The Sun, 8 of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles (i started your pile and didn’t realize the Queen of Cups was hidden under the Page of cups! You probably evolved a lot and serve as an example to many people around. Going from a Page to a Queen is not easy at all)

Top of the deck was The High Priestess.

The Spiritual Warrior

First and foremost, you got 3 major arcanas, and 2 out of the 3 fell first.. damn… Don’t tell the other piles but this might be the most powerful pile of the reading lmaoo

You might be older, like in your forties, thirties. Even if you’re not, you just had to grow up really fast and take on a lot of responsibilities early. You probably experienced a divorce or some sort of loss that made you jaded towards life for a while. But then, you were reborn. 

People like your authoritative energy. You command respect, you incite some sort of fear inside people. However, a group of younger people might see you as an example. They might see you and think to themselves : “I want to be like them when I grow up. And I'll do anything that I can”. Driven youngsters see you as a role model. They aspire to attain the quiet confidence you have today. 

Children probably like you, they feel safe around you. You have healing energy, but it isn’t exactly soft, like one of a fairy for instance. You’re more of a monk or a nun. You don’t necessarily try to spread positivity. You aim to find inner peace, and this inner power will be alchemized as an aura that heals. Your mere presence is healing. You don’t have to say a word. Your gaze and aura do all the job for you, and that’s because you are extremely aligned with the universe.

Oblivion by Grimes is currently playing as I am doing your pile. The song is really disturbing, kind of haunting in a way and is about a traumatic experience Grimes went through. She explained the meaning behind this song in an interview saying : “The song is about being violently assaulted and it made me crazy for a few years. I got really paranoid walking around at night and started feeling really unsafe. The song is more about empowering myself physically amongst a masculine power, and the hate of feeling powerless, making light of masculine physical power, making it jovial and non-threatening. I took a typically violent cultural situation and made it pop and happy.”

You might relate to this in a way or might have lived a similar experience before.

“See you in a dark night” is a prominent lyric here. Are you part of the Pluto in Scorpio generation perchance ?  There is this thing where you might have been a really giving person in the past. You were like a fairy, probably the "panic pixie girl" archetype (you don't have to be a girl by the way). However, many losses in your life made you lose that innocent spark. Now, despite not being as cheerful and positive as you were before, you hold a deep, almost lethal strength inside of you.

There is a lot of Yellow, Blue and White in your spread. Your chakras are definitely aligned and it’s powerful. You probably have a really similar aura to angels. Your aura might be white. There is a glow, a light that follows you everywhere you go. 

=> Energetically speaking, white is thought to be a very high vibrational color, relating to pure light. As spiritual author Shannon Kaiser tells mbg, "White is the rarest of all aura colors and indicates purity, integrity and a high level of spirituality."

People almost have no words to describe what they like about you. They’re simply left speechless.

I want to say “they like”, but stronger words such as “love” keep on coming up. People cannot just LIKE you, they get addicted and fascinated by your energy.

They like your energy, your otherworldly energy. 

People like your wisdom and your mysterious demeanor. 

People like the fact that you are a mystery, but your energy doesn’t want them to know more about you. They like the mystery just as it is. 

People like how fascinating you are. 

People like how resourceful you seem

People like how you seem like an immovable object. Nothing seems to be able to make you flinch, or react. 

People like how your gaze reveal so much but nothing at the same time.

People like how you embody the sentence/ quote “Everything, Everywhere, all at once”. (I don’t really know what this is supposed to mean exactly but this might be relevant to you / maybe the movie ?)

People like the way you look too - if you know about face type essences and kibbe body type you’re probably have Angelic (ethereal) face type essence and a Dramatic body type. You look like you could play in series like Game of Thrones or just that you came straight out of a sci-fi movie or fantasy novel

What people like about you is directly linked to the effect you have on them : your existence leaves them speechless

I am getting the word “ineffable” would describe how people see you and what they like about you. The meaning of that word is “something that is too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.”

Placements you might have : to be honest, your energy is so complex that it’s hard to pick up on specific placements. I am only getting aura colors.

Maybe Pluto harshly aspecting the first house, a lot of asteroids in the first house, chiron might be prominent in your chart, 8th house placements, 12th house placements, 10th and 11th house placements, Lilith in the 11th or 12th house

Signs that this pile might be you : chakra candles, spirituality, divination; angel gabriel, goddesses, angels, you might really spiritually connected, 1010, 1111, 777, 444, angel numbers

SONG : Oblivion - Grimes

[strawberry-daiquiris]

happy lando is 25 day! quarter of a century, cheers ears etc. what a wonderful day!!!

inspired ✨ to write some established relationship landoscar celebrating to celebrate lando becoming old and haggard (spoiler: he's not, he's just being dramatic, they're probably just blonde, right?)

They’re granted a rare, extra day off for Lando’s birthday. Andrea takes Oscar to one side in the MTC, looking all sincere with a furrowed brow, and tells him he thinks it’ll be good, for Lando, for them, to have some time alone for his birthday after everything, lately. Oscar’s phone starts lighting up ten minutes later, notification after notification of his meetings getting cancelled for Wednesday, crossed through in his Google calendar. 

Not that it can really be considered time alone. Lando’s playing golf with Max at 11, and they’re going to a restaurant in London tonight with his family.

Still, it has been nice, spending a couple of nights at the hotel together. It’s the kind of place they don’t really stay that often, grand in an old fashioned way, paint chipping off corners and daring you to complain when it’s all part of the character. Last night Oscar went for a swim, and the only other people in the pool were nearly triple his age. He had a great conversation with Mary, celebrating her 50th wedding anniversary, cooing over how nice a boy he is.

Lando’s got a special relationship with the girl on the front desk after she fixed the pizza disaster. He tells Oscar about it in a vague way that’d be pretty worrying, if he hadn’t been watching Max’s stream at the time, curled up in his bed in Monaco thinking he should’ve flown in a day earlier. 

Lando’s in bed himself, right now, still snoring. Oscar’s managed to pull on a pair of joggers he doesn’t think are actually his to open the door to room service. He’d arranged breakfast direct with the kitchen, trying to bypass Lando’s card on file to sign for it himself. It’s not really a birthday surprise, after all, if you make the person celebrating pay for it. 

“Thanks,” he whispers, relieved when he sees it’s Lando’s pizza girl. “Did you get the note about…”

“Mayonnaise?” Her smile as she says it makes something curl in Oscar’s stomach. The horrifying idea that anybody else but him knows Lando’s quirks, even when Oscar knows they’re on show for the world to see. Half of Twitter probably knows about the mayonnaise thing. “Yeah, we might have to get an extra delivery in if he keeps staying.”

Oscar smiles, laughs, even though inside he’s sort of plotting how he can get Lando barred from staying here ever again. They could buy somewhere, near the MTC, he reckons, with their salaries.

As soon as the thought comes, Oscar shakes it off.

It’s mad talk, wanting to buy a house with the guy you’ve been seeing for six months, even if you’ve known him longer, even if you spend most of your lives in each others pockets. 

He notices the snoring has stopped when he starts wheeling the trolley into the main area of the suite. Oscar frowns. Silence is never a good sign, with Lando. It’s either the snuffling breaths of his sleep, the repetitive sounds of a game, or incessant talking. He’s been silent more, lately. 

Oscar pops his head around the door to the bedroom. Lando’s laying on his back, frowning at something in his hand. For a second, Oscar thinks it’s his phone, that Lando’s back reading the bullshit people are writing about him again.

“Uh, hey,” Oscar says, then stops. Not exactly how you greet your boyfriend on his birthday. Even if he’d said it last night when the clocks flickered to midnight, buried deep inside Lando, kissing his neck and his shoulders as they both tried to stave off coming for a little bit longer. “Happy Birth-”

“Have you seen this?” Lando interrupts, sitting up abruptly, holding himself up on one elbow. He sticks his hand out in Oscar’s direction. “I’ve got fricken’ grey pubes.”

Alright, so not his phone then.

Oscar can’t help but laugh, one of the special ones he thinks he reserves pretty much only for Lando, collapsing a bit into his own chest with a huff, letting out the warm air that collects in his chest and has been whispering you love him for a good year now. 

“Can’t say I noticed that one last night,” Oscar tells him, and Lando rolls his eyes, brandishing what Oscar now knows is a pubic hair in the air. “Alright fine, I’m coming, let me see.”

He climbs onto the bed, the joggers he’s now sure are Lando’s slipping further and further down his arse as he crawls. He kicks Lando’s legs apart so he can rest between them, and Lando automatically curls an ankle over his. It’s what they do when they can’t touch properly - in meetings, on planes, sitting in the back of cars in countries that’d kick them out or worse if they knew.

It’s been easier, since they told Andrea and Zak, since it’s gone from secret to just private, at least at work. 

Oscar takes the pube from Lando, holding it up to the slither of light that’s coming in from where they’ve not quite closed the curtain.

Lando looks up at him a bit hopeful, like he’s desperate to be proven wrong. Happier to find out he’s colour blind to greyscale than being old. 

Unfortunately, there’s no mistaking it. It’s definitely lighter than the rest.

“Ah, that does look a little grey, mate, yes.”

Lando groans, flopping down against the pillows, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Might as well just die,” he says dramatically. Oscar sits back, sliding his hands onto Lando’s naked thighs, rubbing them, watching the muscles tense and getting a bit distracted by just how hot he is. It’s a better option, sometimes, than listening to him. “I’m fucking old. Do they even let old people drive? I’m gonna need a fucking pube transplant.”

Oscar snorts. Convenient that he’s forgotten about Fernando being nearly twenty years older than him. 

“You don’t need a pube transplant,” Oscar says, using the sensible voice he puts on when he needs to explain something to Lando. He’s complained before it makes Oscar sound like a teacher, storming off into another room and coming back ten minutes later with a wicked glint in his eye and a potentially slightly illegal PornHub tab open in incognito. “They’re fine. Look…”

He slides his fingers into the tuft Lando’s got above the fat base of his dick. It’s pretty much the same consistency as his facial hair, which he’s absolutely forbidden to mention if he doesn’t want Lando getting the huff for a half hour. 

“Very brown, completely normal for a 25 year old.”

Lando groans again.

“25 is so old, it’s halfway to fucking 50.” Lando grumbles. “Who’s even 50? Aren’t they all dead?”

“Mark’s nearly 50,” Oscar says, then cringes immediately, curling his fingers a bit too tight in Lando’s pubes. His head veers up, eyes a bit dark. Number one rule, no mentioning Mark when either of them is naked, it never ends well. “And er, our Dads? Andrea’s older than that too, and um… Zak.”

Lando screws his face up.

“Oscar, don’t mention Zak when you’re touching my dick, please.”

Despite the annoyance, there’s a hopefulness in the way he says it. Oscar is more than happy to oblige, if it gets him off the hook. He slides down the bed, and even though Lando hasn’t showered and still smells of sweat and come from last night, Oscar takes him into his mouth. He might not be able to play golf, but he can organise breakfast and give a mean blowjob, so he reckons he’s alright. 

Lando’s easy for it, writhing and bucking his hips, and Oscar wants to make it good. Eases Lando’s hips up so he can slide deeper, feeling the press at the entrance to his throat.

After Lando comes, he starts choking, and Oscar has to push him back gently, come still coating his mouth. Lando’s really good at things like this, immediately sitting up to caress the back of Oscar’s head, looking worried. It’s one of the best parts about doing stuff with someone who’d never been with a bloke before Oscar, actually. He still finds the gross parts of sex vaguely horrifying. 

“Are you alright?” Lando asks, and Oscar nods, pressing his fingers into his mouth and swiping around until he finds the culprit, dragging it out from his throat and holding it up.

They both look at it. Drenched in Oscar’s saliva, it’s darker than the first, but it’s still unmistakably grey.

“Don’t,” Lando warns, and Oscar nods, reaching his hand off the bed and flicking his fingers until it drops to the floor, someone else’s problem. “Fucking don’t.”

Oscar snorts, dropping his lips to the inside of Lando’s knee, kissing the soft hairless part that’s only for him. He nods to the door, and the trolley with the steaming plates of waffles, pancakes, and inexplicably, mayonnaise.

He smiles. It’s criminal, really, how much he likes Lando.

“Breakfast?”

[sleepymccoy]

Per one single request (and that is all I need to carry on) here is an expansion of my tags on this post

What even is dementia?

Basically, it's an umbrella term. It describes a set of common symptoms, primarily worsening cognitive loss.

It's kind of like saying you have a cold. A cold is not a diagnosis, it's a grouping of different illnesses, like rhino virus (the most common), influenza, covid, the list goes on.

So, you can have dementia and Alzheimer's, but you wouldn't describe yourself as having both. You'd say "I have a type of dementia, Alzheimer's disease." In the same way you'd say, "I have a cold, I think it's just a rhino virus but it's a whopping my ass."

So why'd you pick Alzheimer's for that example?

Well, Alzheimer's disease is the most common type of dementia. It's where all the stereotypes you'd know about it come from. This is gonna be a text heavy post, so have a graph

University of Queensland

Before I talk about them in more detail though, what's a brain?

Your brain is made up of segments that control different specific bits of your body.

I always knew that if you hit the back of your head you might go blind, cos the eye and sight stuff happens at the back of the head. This is true.

I love a copyright warning on a photo. This post constitutes personal use

Alright! An important thing about dementia is that it moves through the brain steadily, going piece by piece. It doesn't do it all at once. So you have a starting spot, and a progressive loss of cognition as it kills your neurons. We figure out the dementia type by the symptoms, cos the brain is so defined

So if you hit the back of your head, the green occipital lobe in that picture, you mess with your sight. If you lose cognition in the back of your head your eyes are seeing fine, but your cognition loss makes you process that sight incorrectly. What you see can be completely different to what other people see. This is posterior cortical atrophy, and I bring it up because we know someone who died from it, this is Terry Pratchett's dementia subtype

It's not on the above graph cos it's quite a rare type

Where's Alzheimer's start?

In the kinda middle bit, the temporal lobe. Memory, ya know. And once it takes your memory it'll move on, but it's not always the same, so people living with Alzheimer's disease will developed varying symptoms as the disease progresses, which takes many years. Sometimes people get a diagnosis of mixed dementia cos it's doing a few lobes at once. Or they have another quite different type of dementia at the some time

I'm not gonna talk about Alzheimer's much cos if you know anything about how dementia goes, you probably know it from Alzheimer's disease.

Let's go through a few others

Vascular dementia is the next biggie!

It's a curious one, this is stroke related. So, when you get a stroke you often lose cognition in the affected area of the brain. That's not dementia, that's a stroke!

But if you get lots and lots of strokes, constantly, that's a type of dementia. Cos you're getting steadily cognitively worse

(this is a good time to remind people that dementia is not a diagnosis or even a type of illness like cancer, it is a descriptive umbrella of common symptoms. The underlying causes can be wildly different)

Vascular dementia doesn't follow our moves steadily though the brain model, cos the strokes can and do happen anywhere. It's rough

What am I talking about, they're all rough. It'll get rougher

Lewy bodies dementia

Often cross diagnosed with Parkinson's disease dementia, it just depends if you get the physical or cognitive symptoms first.

Lewy bodies doesn't tend to have any memory loss. I know, no one thinks that's possible! But this is a dementia without memory loss! Cognitive loss is not the same thing as memory loss, theres other cognitive thing you can lose. That's why they're different words I guess

Of course, in all dementias eventually everything goes. Cos it's progressive, it keeps progressing

Lewy bodies is more likely to cause physical impacts like shaking and shuffling gait. You'll also hallucinate, have delusion, sleep badly, and experience mood swings.

From a care perspective, the people living with Lewy bodies disease are vastly more likely to be violent than any other person living with dementia

Robin Williams had this one, but he never knew. They confirmed via autopsy. So I'm gonna add a fun gif of him cos he was lovely

There's a lot of other disease/illness induced dementias

Huntington's turns into dementia eventually. HIV too. If you have down syndrome you have an extra gene that will always turn into dementia if you live long enough (that's one of our few 100% rates). Alcohol related dementia. So on and so forth. There's a shit tonne of types

Anyway, thats enough about disease progression. I'll talk out a few more common misunderstandings and then post

Is dementia fatal?

Sure is. Most people will die of something else while they have dementia, cos age often comes with comorbidities, but if the only thing you have is Alzheimer's disease it will still kill you. It's taking out your brain cells, eventually you'll forget how to swallow and choke.

Honestly tho it's more likely you'll die 'by accident' due to doing something you didn't realise was dangerous, like going for a walk wearing nothing at night and developing hypothermia. That is a dementia-caused death, I think we can all see that, but it'll be written down as hypothermia. So reported deaths are lower than what's true

Alzheimer's takes 10 - 30 years for the neuron loss to be extreme enough to kill you outright. Lewy bodies is more like 5 - 7 years. There's a range and the ranges are poorly defined, quiz your GP if this ever comes up in your life

It's an old person disease, right?

Overwhelmingly yes. It's considered younger onset if you're less than 65. But from the graph above you can see that's a big enough proportion to get its own slot

But kids don't get it

Sure they do, childhood dementia is a whole thing. It's awful. People are born with it. Again, dementia isn't an illness type, it's a symptom grouping. Kids can be born with progressive, worsening cognitive loss. So while it's not Alzheimer's disease, it is dementia. It's like 1 in 3000 kids have some kind of childhood dementia, and most die before they reach adulthood.

It's untreatable

It is incurable (but they keep researching!) but we have treatments for the early stages. If you or a loved one is experiencing confusion and memory loss, get moving early and you might be able to delay the worsening of symptoms for a few years. It's not a cure, but it's better than nothing. And it's all we've got

How do you, op, know?

I have a master's degree in dementia, and I work in the field. Not naming my job cos I'm not speaking for them rn, I'm just presenting what I know personally

Gonna end the post there. Send me asks or questions or whatever, I'll try and answer. If I get enough asking the same thing I'll do another post expanding on that ❤️❤️❤️

[othert]

actually, banished is probably the closest thing to this (though I now play modded so that one year in-game matches villager growth and lifespan times), though fish replenishment specifically might be unrealistic, not sure. (And the soil doesn't lose fertility, so, there're things like that for ease of gameplay, but not many, e.g. mines and quarries are dangerous and eventually become completely depleted and you have to rely on trade if your map's run out of them.)

Each plot of land grows one crop a year, they're ready at different times, sometimes there's an early frost and you don't get to harvest it all, or a snap frost in early spring after it's overall warmer slows things down, you have to keep your villagers warm and clothed - I lost my first six games in a row not understanding that I had to make a firewood chopping area and assign someone to that - and replace their tools when they wear out or they work much slower to the point that it'll kill off your village if you don't quickly turn it around.

Admittedly, one of the gameplay-driving unrealistic mechanics is that no one will have babies unless they have their own house (and until you build a school, which, you have to have a food surplus so you can wait for the students to take longer to work but be more productive for it, but until then, the age villagers shack up and have babies is horrifyingly low, I mod that as well), so you have to build housing to even maintain your population. And there're accidents and illness and things like that, and villagers are less productive in old age, and yes, I know way too much about this game lol

Cozy farming sim but with realistic crop growth times. Just. Just fucking ruin everyone's day with the endless patience required.

[antifainternational]

I'm 14 and I really want to do more antifa advocacy than posting about it on social media, but I live in a decently conservative area (part of the us state of georgia where if you said trump sucks half would cheer half would shoot you). And my parents don't let me go anywhere really & I don't think they'd like me being antifa. They aren't fascists or anything, they are american left (pretty much centrists), I think they would say it's too dangerous and honestly, they're right, I could easily get myself killed. And they do still say that good cop exist. What are some down low/sneaky ways to participate?

Homie, first off apologies for taking so long to write you back. We're glad you're here. You're not alone. We get tons of messages from people just like you, in the same situation of seeing how messed up things are and wanting to do something about it, but not knowing where to start or how to be safe doing it. Some thoughts/suggestions: -there have to be other people around you that feel the same way you do. Think about the kinds of people that bigots and fascists target and victimize - women, disabled people, LGTBQ+ folk, migrants, racialized people, religious minorities, etc. Look to see how those groups are organized in your area and then reach out to those organizations to ask how you can volunteer or support them. There might not be a mob of antifa black-bloccing their way around your town, but there's probably a migrant support group doing work, or an abortion rights network, or queer-support organizations, or racialized people doing good political work. Find them, reach out to them, see what they need and how you can help. -Anti-fascism doesn't have to be some big, scary, dramatic action. Truth is 99% of anti-fascist work are small things that, when done repeatedly, have a bigger cumulative effect. We've published a list of 30 antifa actions that we believe just about anyone could pull off, maybe with the help of a couple of friends. Find something you think you could do, do the thing, assess how it went and what could've gone better, and do it again or move on to the next thing! Let us know how it goes! Don't like any of the 30 ideas we listed? Well then check out Pop Mob/Spencer Sunshine's 40 Ways To Fight Fascists (print version available here). Now you have 40 more ideas! Another thought: maybe you could start an antifa student club (whether or not it's named somethign like that) - read our thoughts about starting student clubs for some ideas and tips! We hope this is useful and we hope that you find ways to get active in the fight, because the fight is about to get very, very real!

[daiskiii]

hi diva, saw that y you're taking requests and had to think of something with anya x reader :3

would you be comfortable with writing anya x non-binary! reader where they're together and she takes care of them after getting ill on the ship? reader feels like a burden yey anya reassures them that she's thei girlfriend and will always take care of them no matter what :3

Authors note: Hii i hope this is what you were looking for! thank you for the request :3 Let me know if theres any mistakes !

Anya mouthwashing x Nonbinary reader

Fluff, established relationship, lmk if i missed anything!

You, Anya, Daisuke and Swansea had met up in the main area during your breaks simply just to talk about how everything’s going and listen to Daisuke talk about his favourite pokémon’s, thats all you gathered anyway as your headache was unbearable and making it hard for you to listen in on what they were talking about.

After a while Anya noticed something was wrong and at first she thought you were probably just tired and wouldn’t want her to make a big deal out of it but after seeing you caress the side of your head groaning slightly out of pain it hit her that it was more than just tiredness.

“Are you okay?” Her words slapped you out of thought as you groggily averted your gaze towards her “Hm? oh yeah i’m fine, just didn’t sleep that well” She hums in acknowledgment even though her expression tells you she knows somethings off, but decided to take your word for it and leave it be for now.

As you all went back to work you couldn’t help but rest your back against the wall, eventually sliding down as you hid your head in your knees, taking a small break from work as your headache was not only getting worse but also making you cough every five seconds.

You sigh in annoyance while attempting to massage your temples hoping it would ease the pain. You heard footsteps approaching as you sat there contemplating whether you should look up and see who it is or stay on the ground and pray it isn’t Curly or Jimmy while trying your best to calm your headache down, you decided for the latter.

“Oh god y/n are you okay?” A familiar voice caught your attention as you looked up only to find Anya looking down at you anxiously, her face full of worry and concern. “I’m fine just needed a little break” you said as you closed your eyes, the lights only worsening your headache.

“y/n i wanna believe that i really do but i could hear you coughing all the way down the hall- are you sure you’re okay?” she asked as she crouched down to your level, slowly raising her hand to your forehead. “Jesus y/n.. you’re heating up!” she yelped, helping you stand as you leaned your back against the wall once more. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a little headache it’ll go away” she looked at you unconvinced as she held your hand and brought you to medical despite you insisting you were fine, laying you down on the bed while she looked through the cabinets for some medicine.

“You don’t have to do this you know.. i’ll just walk it off” You said as you slowly sat up, holding your head as you groaned in pain, it felt like the whole room was spinning. “Y/n, you’re ill, i’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing.. i care about you, not only as your nurse but also as your girlfriend. Take these, they should help ease the headache” She said softly as she handed you some medicine and a glass of water.

“Anya, really, you don’t have to do this.. i don’t wanna be a burden. I’ll just ask curly if i can take the day off or something..” you said as you swallow the pills she had given you, handing her the glass when you were done, groggily getting up to leave before Anya stood in front of the doorway, blocking you from leaving.

“You’re not a burden, y/n. Lay down, please. I can’t go around knowing you’re sick and not do anything about it.. lay down and let me make you feel better, please.” she pleaded as she looked at you, holding you hand and raising the other one to your cheek, softly rubbing her thumb back and forth.

As much as you didn’t want to be a burden your headache was getting horrible and the thought of laying in a bed with your girlfriend holding you company didn’t sound so bad, it was either that or work your ass off for the next few hours. “Okay, but don’t over work yourself, the headache will go away after a while” You said as her gaze softened, pressing a kiss to your cheek before laying you back down and making the lights more dim so the brightness wouldn’t worsen your headache.

“I’ll go tell Curly you’re not feeling well. I’ll be right back, okay?” she said softly as you turned to look at her “Mhm, love you” you said as she turned to walk out the door, quickly turning around and saying “i love you too” before strolling down the hall, leaving you feeling tired. Taking a nap sounds pretty nice right now. Closing your eyes makes the headache a bit more bearable as you end up fall asleep not soon before Anya came back.

She walked into the room barely able to make out your sleeping figure in the dim lights, smiling at you as she kissed your forehead and muttered a quiet “i love you” before turning around to continue her work, your light snores like lullabies to her as she took a deep breath, relaxing her tense muscles knowing you’re resting still in her reach, knowing she can keep you safe.

[maybe-im-dark]

Half the boyfriend, half the fun

Chapter 2 | Chapter 1

The best way to pass the time until his legs fully grew back was to sit in Dopinder's car and eat samosas. Wade ignored Dopinder's complaints that his mother had baked them for him. She could make new ones. He had bigger worries. He couldn’t stop thinking about Logan and the fact that he was responsible for his condition. Damn, he couldn’t even remember exactly what had happened! If only he’d never convinced Logan to come along on this mission. But that was just another bad decision added to the long line of bad decisions that defined his life. He could practically hear his father’s voice. Idiot, faggot, loser! You can’t do anything right! Wade shook his head. No! He would make it right. He would find a way to fix this.

He pulled his phone out of his belt pouch and sent a text.

Wade: Hey :3

Negasonic Teenage Bitch: What do you want?

Wade: I need a fayvr. Big one

Negasonic Teenage Bitch: ?

Wade: Logan’s hewrt. U need to find out wat they're dooing to him

Negasonic Teenage Bitch: Find out yourself

Wade: I...may or may not be bent from the promises

Negasonic Teenage Bitch: Not my problem

Wade: Then I’ll brayk in

Negasonic Teenage Bitch: You’re gonna get in so much trouble

Wade: Aight bet

Wade looked down at his legs. A few toes were still missing, but otherwise, they were back in their scarred, pale glory.

"Dopinder, I have to go. You wouldn’t happen to have pants for me, would you?"

He eyed Dopinder’s jeans.

Dopinder shook his head vigorously. "No, you’re not getting mine!"

Wade sighed. "It’s probably for the best. These buns don’t wear Levi’s!"

Sneaking around the back of the building was easier than expected. There was no sign of security cameras, but then again, who needed them with mutants who could see through walls? Unfortunately for him, none of the windows were open, so his plan of entering quietly was thwarted. Concentrating, he scanned the ground until he found what he was looking for.

"Let him, who is without sin, cast the first stone!" he muttered with a grin, tossing a rock through the window.

After climbing inside, Wade realized he was completely lost. The mansion was a maze, and he’d only been there a few times. The wood-paneled walls all looked the same, and the portraits of old white men didn’t provide any hints as to where he was.

"Quentin, was that you? I told you to..."

Storm was descending the stairs. Her white hair was styled in a sassy pixie cut, and she wore a pink crop top with glittery letters spelling out, "RAINING ON YOUR PARADE."

When she saw Wade, she let out a sharp shriek and covered her eyes.

"Wade?"

"Yes?"

"Why aren’t you wearing pants?"

The mercenary puffed out his chest. "Marvel Jesus doesn’t need mundane things like pants!"

Storm sighed, still covering her eyes. "I’ll take you to the Professor."

Now wearing a pair of gray sweatpants emblazoned with the school emblem, Wade sat stiffly in front of Professor Xavier’s desk, arms crossed, staring at the wall. The spacious office felt confining to him, like a cage, despite the ample space and the light streaming through the tall windows. Behind the desk was a bookshelf set into the wood-paneled wall, filled with countless books whose gilded, ornate titles he couldn’t decipher. In one corner stood a large globe, and in another, a sitting area with a chessboard. On the desk itself were a few file folders, a Newton’s cradle, and a photo of the Professor himself, younger and with a full head of hair. Beside him stood another young man with his arm draped around him, presumably Magneto. It might have been more than a friendly gesture; they’d been arguing for decades like an old married couple.

"Wade," Charles said, giving him a calming smile. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

Wade shook his head defiantly. "I don’t want a drink. I want to see Logan."

The Professor’s expression turned somber. "You know that’s not possible."

"Urgh, okay. I’m sorry for calling you Egghead. Can I see Logan now?"

"I don’t think you fully understand the gravity of the situation, Wade. Something has nullified Logan’s healing factor. Dr. McCoy is currently treating him, and any outside influence could be harmful to him in this critical state."

Wade’s eyes narrowed. "So, what am I supposed to do now?"

Charles thoughtfully placed a finger on his chin. "Well, you could help by telling us what happened. Jean mentioned that you also lost your legs. A failed mission, I assume. What exactly happened there?"

Wade ran his hands over his face. "That’s the thing! I don’t remember! I..."

His voice broke. Loser. He was a fucking loser. The love of his life was fighting for his life, and his brain had decided to shut down. Logan was going to die painfully, and it was all his fault. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Charles took his hand and squeezed it gently. "I could help you remember."

Wade nearly jumped out of his chair. "Oh no! After Cassandra Nova—did you know you had a psychopathic twin sister?— there’s no way I’m letting anyone into my head again."

"I’ll only see what you allow me to see, and only with your consent," Charles assured him.

Wade swallowed and nodded. After all, this wasn’t about him. Charles slowly extended his fingertips toward him. He’d nearly reached Wade’s temple when the screams echoed through the halls. Desperate, raw, agonizing screams. Logan’s screams.

Wade burst out the door, ignoring the Professor’s shouts. He ran down the hallway, nearly tripping over his own feet. He didn’t know where he was going, just following the sound of the screams, his chest tight with fear. His bare feet slapped against the wooden floor as he followed the sounds to a door with frosted glass. It was locked, but that was no obstacle for Wade, who’d served in a military special unit. He pivoted halfway, raised his leg, and kicked hard. The door burst open.

Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him. Hank was bending over an operating table. Logan lay on it, his torso crudely stapled back together at the hips. But that wasn’t the worst of it. What froze the blood in Wade’s veins were the tubes. Countless tubes and wires ran out of Logan’s body and back into him at different points. He looked like a machine. But unlike machines, he was screaming.

Wade was reminded of Weapon X. He quickly made his way over to Logan. Logan’s eyes darted back and forth beneath his closed lids.

"Oh God, what did you do to him?"

He reached out to stroke Logan’s face, but Logan’s hand shot out, gripping his arm. His eyes snapped open, revealing yellow irises staring at Wade from blood-red sclera. His lips parted, exposing razor-sharp fangs. Then he lunged forward and sank his teeth into Wade.

[clubsmarties]

—

"They're very easy to win over. The only thing that would give you trouble is if you happen to cause me any sort of harm." The smile told her everything from how he was only kidding and how his sisters would like her. She'd pretty much secure being liked by Emma. "Hmm. I like that. It wouldn't be food or homework. Okay, if I win then you let me take you out dancing without knowing any other details."

He raised his hands in slight defense and laughed. "That's more than I can do so you're already better than I am. Do you make the grilled cheese really melty? You're conquering chicken noodle soup, see I was right about master chef."

"Right? Everyone passed her by and so I felt like if I did that I'd be an asshole. Final stop was going to be California. The Bay Area specifically. It's cold and I would be irritated with the heat. But somehow that translated to Texas." A small amused laugh escaped him at that. "Dont think it was all bad now." His smile couldn't be helped as he nodded. "That is the actual best. Watered down chocolate tastes like it has no flavor and it is so disappointing. I think I got really sad that first time. Then Stella at the diner had me control the machine. That's how come I'm in charge of the coffee machine."

He pushed his nose against hers and smirked as he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it. If it weren't for her mischievous smile he would have thought that this wasn't a good idea. He gave her a small little peck before he rearranged himself and moved over to sit in front of her. Cupping her face he kissed her again, this time letting one hand drop and roam down her sides.

The hoodie being a little big on her made it easy to land his hand underneath to touch her warm skin. As he let his hand explore he found the unexpected, the hoodie was covering a lot more than he realized. He let out an appreciative sound at the softness her skin provided the palm of his hand. It was times like this that he was grateful he didn't have a roommate. No one that could come in and interrupt their slow getting to know each other. Smirking against her lip at the way her body responded to him made him feel smug. He'd been told how this could go but words didn't give the feeling justice. The feeling of making someone else feel safe enough to let go and let them see the inner most vulnerable parts of themselves.

"Really? You are giving me the key to woo your sisters, I'm liking my chances," she was beaming with happiness. Though, the idea of meeting any family did frighten her. She kept that to herself for now. "Um, fair enough. If they're not embarrassing, then hm, I'll owe you something. Your choice."

"Don't feed my ego," she warned as a smile peeked through. "Three things, yep. I can kinda make grilled cheese, scrambled eggs, and chicken noodle soup. That last one is tough," she joked, though it had been a mission to learn. Though, now she made a mental note to check in with her dad, to see when they could visit. Or if he'd be away on some trip, maybe they could go then. Just to not scare Eli with the, meeting her parents conversation.

"Woah," she breathed out at the twist and turns that brought him here. "Sounds like I may need to be thanking this lady and her luggage." Or, more accurately, she should be thanking him for his kindness and willingness to help a stranger. That's what led him here, after all. "That is definitely some way to land in Texas. So, you've been at the diner for quite some time, wow. If not Texas, what was the final stop then?" Only curious to know where he would've ended up if he had made his connecting flight. "Us two with the pretty eyes, lucky us." Laurel laughter burst through her lips, shaking her head as he agreed with her. "With marshmallows? Now, that sounds good. Watered down sounds like a crime. Well, the moment there's a chill in the air, I'll be buying hot chocolate with the marshmallows." That piqued her curiosity, what kind of absurd questions were they asking his sisters? "You just want me to ask, and prove that you don't share, huh? I'll indulge you though. It'll be my first question to your sisters."

Laurel's heart was beating in complete anticipation as his fingertips grazed her lips. Meeting his green eyes was a rush of excitement, subconsciously leaning in to meet his lips. It was a bit of an odd angle, but she didn't mind it at all. It was a slow warmth spreading throughout her, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned in just a bit more, trying to get a taste of his lips. Trying to learn everything that had not yet been asked between them. She had loved the two kisses they had share up until now, but this one was special. It was gentle and slow, nothing rushing or interrupting them. Frankly, she could've stayed here all evening. "I can confirm that I'm a fan of the slow make out." A breathy laugh followed his comment, nudging him gently with her nose. "Is there an option for all of the above, including that unspoken third option?" Because that option sounded really good right about now. "The order of the activities doesn't really matter either," she mumbled, and that might've been interpreted for shyness, if her mischievous smile was not betraying her.

[starlightvld]

Bait & Switch, pt. 10 - The END! (almost)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Epilogue

Based on "I wasn't in that tunnel."

Call of Duty, soapghost // CW: Hurt/Comfort, MWIII spoilers

---

Watching Johnny launch himself at Makarov is like staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. The blue of Johnny's eyes through the helmet visor burn with rage, and though the emotion isn't meant for Ghost, he can't help the way his body instinctively tries to dodge the attack.

It doesn't matter. He's too slow. The impact sends them all sprawling across the rooftop, and Johnny scrambles on top of Makarov to smack something out of his hand.

It's not until the small, bright green thing skitters across the roof and cracks against the brick wall of the roof access, bright green seeping out to pool around it, that it finally clicks.

Johnny tackled Makarov to save Ghost.

Makarov screams in frustration... and then grunts in pain as Johnny's fist connects with his face. At the same moment, a bullet punches Ghost's plating into his ribs, and he finally takes his eyes off Johnny long enough to aim his weapon.

The remaining soldier seems to have some back up now — probably people waiting in the wings in case Johnny proved too much for the small team. Johnny is wailing on Makarov, punch after punch accompanied by a growling scream gone tinny from the helmet speakers, but Ghost's heart jumps into his throat as he realizes Johnny is also still in the firing line. Ghost's return fire is keeping their adversaries cautious, and they won't dare take too many shots because of Makarov being in the way. 

But there are already at least two dents in Johnny's helmet. Who knows how many more bullets have hit his armor, leaving vicious bruises at a minimum and possibly causing internal bleeding from the impacts. As high tech as the armor is, Johnny can't survive a full-out onslaught of gunfire.

Another bullet hits Ghost's plating, this time right over his newly-healed bullet would. Ghost growls, dodges behind cover, and sets his sights on the remaining soldiers.

"Johnny! Get to cover!"

The rage dims, and a bit of lucidity seeps back into Johnny's eyes. He doesn't respond, but he rolls both himself and Makarov until they're behind the brick wall of the stairwell entry. Makarov is struggling in earnest now, and Ghost's heart rate ratchets up a few more desperate thumps per minute. He leans out of cover just as one of Makarov's team does and shoots the soldier right between the eyes. He ducks back under the spray of shattering brick where his face used to be. He switches to the broad channel to hear Laswell using her stern voice in the comms.

"Ghost. Soap. This is Watcher-1. Report in now. That's an order. Over."

"Watcher-1, this is Ghost. Makarov is on the roof with me and Johnny. We're under fire. Requestin' immediate backup."

Another soldier pops out from behind an AC unit as Ghost leans around the corner, and Ghost fires. The man drops.

Two down... Three? Or maybe four to go.

"You're on the roof with Soap?" Laswell asks, something incredulous and yet resigned in her tone.

"Affirmative." Ghost glances over, his heart slowing a bit when he sees Johnny has regained his position over Makarov, though he's only getting in a punch every now and then as Makarov fights back. Ghost can't make out much of Makarov's features from all the blood, though. "Better get here fast if you want Makarov alive. Johnny's beatin' his face in."

"And you're not stopping him?" 

"Under fire, remember? Can't get to him."

Which is technically true. If Ghost ran across the open area between them, he'd likely end up with at least one extra hole in his body. The reality, though, is that he wouldn't even if he could. Not unless Makarov somehow got the upper hand and Johnny needed back up.

"Ghost, this is Price. We're on our way in the helo. Sitrep."

Sure enough, the sound of helo blades cuts through the gunfire. Ghost reloads and dips out of cover — only to dodge back at another spray of brick. 

"At least four hostiles are spread across the rooftop. Ductwork and mechanical units givin' 'em lots of cover."

"Roger," Price says, "Safest angle for us to come at you?"

"South. Johnny and I are fully covered from that direction and that's where most of Makarov's people are."

Ghost glances over at Johnny—

—who has a pistol pressed against Makarov's forehead. A pistol that looks a lot like the one that Ghost finds is missing from his thigh holster. Must've snagged it when he knocked them all down.

Ghost switches over to their private channel. "Sitrep, Sergeant."

"Got him," Johnny pants through the comms, his voice too panicked for Ghost's liking. "I got him right where we want him. He moves a millimeter, though, I'm gonna blow his head off."

"Sounds good, Johnny. Take some deep breaths for me, eh? Breathe in..."

The guns around them have gone quiet in direct proportion to the beat of the helo blades, but Ghost focuses on the short, panicky breaths in his ear. Johnny swallows and his breathing changes to one of a measured inhale interrupted by small gasps.

"Now breathe out. Slowly."

The sound changes again to something like a hiss of air through teeth. It's not perfect, but at least Johnny is with it enough to listen to Ghost. He guides him through a couple more breaths even as the helo pops up on the south side to rain gunfire down on the remaining hostiles. An RPG whistles through the air. The helo dodges and aims at the location the grenade came from, destroying the ducts and sending metal and brick flying. 

The broken whisper in Ghost's ear brings all his focus back to Johnny in an instant.

"I can't... Ghost... I can't let him live."

"He talkin' to you?"

"Aye. It's... he..." A harsh growl erupts from Johnny's throat and ebbs into a half whine. Ghost is ready to launch himself across the divide, bullets be damned, when Johnny continues, "I cannae live my life knowing he's out there somewhere. Tha' he might get out again. Tha' you or I or any of the people I care about might be in danger because he's still walking the Earth."

A villa in a rainforest rises up in Ghost's mind, blood spraying from the bullet placed between the eyes of the man who had terrorized him for months followed by fire that consumed everything in its wake. He meets Johnny's eyes across the yawning gap of bullet-riddled roof between them.

"Looks like he's movin' to me," Ghost says in a matter-of-fact tone. "Better put him down."

Johnny's eyes flare as he stares at Ghost before turning his gaze to Makarov. There's a moment of silence except for the helo blades cutting through the air, though Ghost can see Makarov's blood-stained lips moving—

A single gunshot shatters the relative silence.

Makarov's body jerks and then stills as blood begins to pool around his head. Johnny scrambles to his feet, still hovering over the body with his gun pointed at Makarov.

Three more shots ring out, but Makarov doesn't move for those. Ghost hums.

"Good work, Sergeant. Another terrorist down. Switch to the main channel, and we'll wrap this up, alright?"

He watches just long enough to see Johnny's hand move toward his comms and switches over himself in time to hear Price swearing up a storm.

"—amn it, Ghost. If you don't give me a sitrep in two seconds, I'm gonna come down there and kill you myself."

"Ghost 'ere. We're solid." Ghost looks over to meet Johnny's gaze. "Target KIA."

There's a silence on the other end until Laswell's voice comes online.

"Repeat that, Bravo 7-1."

Ghost doesn't look away from Johnny as he says, "Target down. Tried to escape. Was the only way to keep him from gettin' away again."

Laswell doesn't respond. She's probably pissed off, but so is Ghost. She's the one who asked Johnny to put himself in danger by being here at all.

Though it's true that Makarov probably wouldn't have shown himself if Johnny hadn't come.

"Ghost, Soap, you're clear," Price says. "Vaqueros are on the way up to bag and tag. We'll RV by the warehouse."

Ghost is moving before Price finishes, dashing across the space to Johnny, who is now staring down at the mangled, bloody face of his tormentor who he very nearly beat to death. Slowly, Ghost reaches out and presses a hand to Johnny's chest.

"You with me, Johnny?"

"Always."

It sounds like an automatic reply, but when Johnny lifts his head, eyes overflowing with tears, there's no distance or haze clouding his gaze. Ghost reaches up to mute his comms. Johnny does the same before reaching under his chin to unlatch his helmet and pull it off. It falls from his hands, the clatter loud without the helo or gunfire to mute the noise. 

"It's over," Johnny gasps, his voice little more than an incredulous whisper. "He's gone."

"You did good, Johnny."

"Why're ye here? Ye werenae supposed to be on overwatch."

Ghost shrugs. "The Vaquero assigned to overwatch was eager to be part of the action on the ground. I was doin' him a favor." A broken laugh bursts from Johnny's heaving chest, and Ghost slides his gloved hand up to cup Johnny's tear-stained cheek. "Told you I wouldn't let owt happen to you. Not now. Not ever again."

Johnny's face goes soft, and Ghost can't resist any longer. He lifts his mask, leans in, and kisses Johnny the way he's been aching to since that day in the hospital... and all those days before when he thought Johnny was gone from his world.

The distant sound of the stairwell door opening pulls them apart, but only by a few inches. They confirm that their company is, in fact, the Vaqueros before turning back to each other. Johnny is grinning at him, his expression bordering on giddy.

"So all I've gotta do to get ye to kiss me is kill a terrorist in cold blood? Good to know."

"No terrorist murder necessary. Just keep bein' 'ere, Johnny. Just stay with me. 'S'all I need."

"Oh, but..."

Johnny trails off, his brows furrowing so deeply Ghost is compelled to smooth a thumb over the puckered skin. "But what?"

"Ye just never seemed to want" — Johnny looks around them and lowers his voice — "more, ye ken?"

"You mean when I was recoverin' from gettin' shot and you from years of torture?"

Johnny blinks, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally stutters out a soft, "Well, when ye put it tha' way, I suppose ye've got a point... but ye should know..."

Johnny grunts when they have to move away from Makarov's body so the Vaqueros can bag it. His gaze is fixed on Makarov's bloody face until the bag zips up over it.

When he doesn't continue his train of thought, Ghost puts a hand on his waist and squeezes to get his attention. Johnny flinches and hisses through his teeth.

"Shit, you broken?"

"Nae. Just bruised to hell and back. I stopped counting after ten hits to the armor."

Ghost blows out a long breath, his spiking heart rate calming with the confirmation Johnny isn't bleeding out, though he still needs medical attention stat. 

"Christ. You're a head case, Johnny."

"Aye, but I'm yer head case," he says, flashing that sudden, broad grin that Ghost hasn't seen in more than three years. "And yer mine," he adds as he curls discreet fingers through Ghost's thigh strap.

Ghost doesn't argue as he directs Johnny to the stairs. They'll have time later to discuss the finer points of their mutual insanity.

They have time. And Ghost will never take a single second of it for granted again.

---

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Epilogue

[joelliies]

Was looking up how to start an economy for the story I'm making and saw this on Reddit, decide to share it!

David Montgomery on Reddit

Everything about your economy will flow from one basic principle: everyone has to eat.

Food is the most basic need, and people will either produce it themselves or produce something else they can exchange for food. (That "something else" could be "soldiers who go and take other people's food by force," by the way.) In most medieval economies, food production is sufficiently inefficient that a majority of the population will be directly engaged in food production. More advanced technology, organization or magic could change this, freeing up more people to do other economic activities — but it's important to know the rules before you break them, and medieval levels of technology will likely lead to widespread subsistence farming.

That said, if the land is decently fertile, farmers will produce more food than they can eat themselves. This food will either be sold (for currency or goods) or confiscated in taxes, tribute, etc., or both. This creates two questions to answer: A) who is acquiring the surplus food from the peasants, and B) how did they get the means to get the peasants to give them this food?

Answers to A could be a nearby city, a far-away city (much of Rome's food supply was shipped across the sea from Egypt, Sicily or other areas), a temple, an established local lord, tribute-demanding warlords or bandits, a powerful wizard, wasteland nomads, etc.

Answers to B divide basically into force and wealth. If it's force (and most farmers will be forced to pay taxes to someone), that raises interesting military and political questions for your world. Do these force-wielders rely solely on exploiting farmers to eat, or do they produce food of their own and rely on raiding to supplement their diet? (They could also raid for treasure and then sell that treasure to buy food.) Those people forcibly extracting food, whether local nobles collecting taxes, temples overawing the people into making offerings or marauding invaders plundering the countryside, will then either eat it themselves or sell it to someone with wealth. So what kind of wealth are people creating that they are exchanging for food? The answer could be anything — what do the people looking to sell their food want? It could be other types of food, precious metals, useful metals, craft goods, arms, military protection, magical resources, divine favor, ships, whatever.

Now you're spiraling upward and outward from your base farmers. Asking yourself more questions will help flesh out your world: Who are these people who have enough disposable resources that they are trading it for food? Why are they importing food instead of producing it themselves? Why do the food-sellars want what they're selling? How dependent on this imported food are they?

There's a lot of ways to create disposable wealth that can be traded for food. Making goods higher up the resource tree from food can be one of them: furniture, swords, alcohol, magic crystals, etc. So can mining, logging, or other resource extraction. Another way to get wealth can be trade: some goods cost a lot more in one place than another, and the person who carries those goods from point A to point B can make a lot of money. Medieval merchant republics and fair towns were centers of this.

Again, as long as food production is inefficient (as it was in the middle ages), these people who are not directly engaged in food production will be a distinct minority. So big cities should be relatively rare without explicit mechanisms set up to get enough food imported to feed all these non-farmers. It can be done — look at Rome, again, or Constantinople later on — but it takes concerted and sustained effort to extract the narrow food surplus from a wide region and to secure the trade lanes to transport it safely to the city.

Don't assume that you have to base your economy on impoverished medieval Europe, though. Regions elsewhere in the world, and both immediately before and after the medieval period in Europe, saw more productive economies with highly specialized divisions of labor.

Farming sucks, and sometimes REALLY sucks. Most farmers, given the chance, would rather do something else. So why aren't they given the chance? Is it necessity or tradition that keeps them on the farm, or are they bound to the land as serfs or slaves?

There are political/military implications if your merchant city-state or underground dwarven kingdom require regular food imports in order to survive — what happens if the food imports get cut off?

How does magic play a role? My advice — not the only way to go about this — is to figure out your normal state of affairs, then add your magic to the picture and figure out how that would change things.

If food production is more efficient, then it takes fewer workers to produce the same amount of food, or the same amount of workers can produce way more food. The former enables more of the population to become craftsmen, priests, bureaucrats, etc. The latter produces more exports for the farmers or their oppressors, and thus potentially more wealth to support craftsmen, priests, bureaucrats, etc. — or more luxuries for the upper crust.

A nobility or other economic elite that manages to extract a large share of the surplus for themselves will then be able to spend that money on things they don't need. This will likely create a sub-economy around satisfying the needs of the wealthy — servants, jewelers, luxury craftsmen, diviners, mercenaries, etc. Whatever the people with surplus money or food want, someone will likely emerge to provide it.

More productive farming will produce more resources. How are those resources distributed? Are they all confiscated by a tiny elite who build sumptuous palaces while their serfs toil in squalor? Or does a supplementary economy build up with crafts, workshops, trade, etc., that enriches everyone?

If food production is less efficient than normal, then things get really interesting. This will likely mean the land can't support all the people who live on it, forcing some people off the land to become soldiers, bandits, priests, wanderers, immigrants, poachers or whatever. Life will likely not go well for anyone in this scenario. You can also have a situation where the land can't support everyone living on it if taxes or extortion become too high, not letting the peasants keep enough food to feed everyone.

Even if people can NORMALLY produce enough food to sustain themselves and exchange a surplus for goods or services, there will likely be periodic famines that upset everything.

Don't underestimate the importance of peace and stability for your economy. If there's a central government or alliance ensuring peace, then profitable long-distance trade becomes more possible. Farmers get more options for exporting their food and can perhaps secure a better price for it. People who don't want to produce food are more likely to be able to find something else to do. Stable governments also produce coinage, as u/GeraldVanHeer emphasized. Stable coinage makes commerce more fluid, since anyone can exchange a coin for anything instead of requiring someone to have a good you want to barter for, and generally promotes accelerating wealth.

Another political implication: the less economic surplus you have, the less ability societies will have to construct great works.

There are a lot of good books that get at what economies were like in historical periods. Barbara Tuchman's "A Distant Mirror" is a good overall look at 14th Century Europe. One book I found particularly helpful is the second half of "The Fall of Rome and the End of Civilization" by Bryan Ward-Perkins. The back half of that book is a look at how the economy of western Europe changed when the Roman Empire collapsed under successive Germanic invasions, setting the stage for the Dark Ages and then the medieval era. This uses data from archaeology to show both what a high-productivity ancient economy looked like under Rome, and what a devastated low-productivity economy looked like after Roman authority collapsed

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Ep 26 Commentary

Alrightyy I've mustered up what's left of my brain for a belated ep 26 commentary post. IRL responsibilities are getting a bit away from me so I wasn't able to spend as much time on this as usual; apologies if the haste shows through! Consider this more reaction than meta.

As always, spoilers under the cut:

A carry-over comment, but I really do appreciate the Li Lun/ZYC scene in ep 25 for how it solidified ZYC's resolve and reminded him of where his heart is, what he believes in, what he chooses to defend. Such a load-bearing and pivotal conversation for both characters in opposite directions of development. It also makes ZYC's return to the Bureau triumphant in a way, despite all the preceding trauma, despair, and hopelessness. WX embraces him in relief that he's safe and in comfort for what they've all just been through, and for us, it's doubly meaningful as a sort of homecoming after a confrontation that only we have witnessed. It's also interesting, the cutaway as they hug, the things we have been made privy to and the things that are kept private from us.

Ouuughh the lines voiced over as ZYZ and ZYC meet eyes for the first time since all that transpired in Tianxiang Pavilion. It gives such a deep sense of wordless understanding and intimacy. I'm reminded of when the show did that for Ranyi and Miss Qi's final lines.

As I mentioned previously, a lot of subtext became text in this episode, which was quite exciting (and also extremely adorable the way ZYC was like "I think I've said too much" /// afterwards). I didn't expect ZYC to convey his understanding of ZYZ to him so soon, but that really goes back to something I love about ZYC: that he doesn't really waste time expressing something once he's come to an emotional conclusion. Maybe there's something to be said there about how he knows, after the loss of his family, how important it is to say the words when you have them to the people in front of you while they're still here.

If ZYC's words and his tears offered to a catatonic ZYZ in ep 23 were an expression of star-crossed and conflicted love, this parallel scene is just an utterly unrestrained confession, the stars be damned.

Also, tbh I never found ZYC's reactions to ZYZ to be unfounded or unreasonable, even when misguided in the beginning (and necessarily so, given the narrative and premise) or at times harsh (which I also found much-needed for ZYZ to hear, and delivered with obvious sympathetic anguish). He was clearly reflecting and actively revising his own preconceived notions this entire time, feeling for ZYZ the whole way through, and I do think he's demonstrated realistically and impressively the full extent of empathy perhaps as far as it can possibly stretch without personally experiencing ZYZ's life himself and while still living and feeling for his own. But to see ZYC so ready to address his previous flaws, to admit them and correct them, to go beyond them and to reach out so plainly for ZYZ in front of him now that he has that personal experience—the relationship between them has transcended the initial set-up of two opposing characters meeting in the middle. The show has gone that extra step and made their perspectives one. And given that I didn't personally find that step to be narratively necessary, so to say, (as in, even without it there's not truly a narrative obstacle because I already believed ZYC loves ZYZ despite everything and we've already seen the lengths he'll go to not to kill ZYZ), it feels like a choice in every definition of the word. Like a development motivated by love all the way down.

WX gets the least traumatic cloak-draping scenes out of the three of them, thank god.

Oh shit I forgot about fixing the Wilderness I'm so glad they didn't lmao.

Ahhh the crossroads moment at a literal (kind of) crossroads right before entering the Bingyi Clan's forbidden area. ZYC suddenly wanting to go alone or back out, stuck weighing the danger to everyone's lives, who they can and can't save depending on his choices. It makes me think of what happens when we let intense love in and it comes with intense fear, makes us freeze up. Suddenly, the stakes are in sharp relief, and the courage to move forward isn't so simple anymore.

"修好了，你也別死" ("Once it's fixed, don't die either.") Head in hands. ZYC's voice here, his expression, that desperation. Yeah I think this episode was so draining because of how all pretense is being stripped away and all that's left is ZYC's profound love for everyone, so raw and vulnerable that it hurts to watch, especially knowing he won't have it easy trying to keep everyone alive.

Kind of love how freely ZYC cries and says the vulnerable things in front of all his loved ones. Like. That's truly his family, his people, his heart.

ZYZ please. Imagine ZYC's grief without you. Please just stay.

Yay 12 seconds of angst-free bickering right before (as someone else called it) the trolley problem

Ok so, I'm not sure how common this interpretation/reading of the following scene is, but it's been rattling around in my head for a while now so I'm just gonna include it here. If y'all disagree, pls disregard! Basically, when ZYC first turned to PSJ and thanked her, I was terrified for a moment that he would ask her to stay. Because on one hand, ZYC would never, but on the other hand, imo there's a lot of (I think deliberate) ambiguity baked into the scene. In ZYC turning to PSJ right after we're told "one of your friends or all three of them," in him starting the series of goodbyes with the character he has the least onscreen development with, in the finality of what he says to her but also the lack of clarity on just who this is final for, in PSJ's expression and WX's reaction, in the dramatic turning away at the end. Like, until he turns away from her, I think there's room for interpretation on what he's decided to do, and as someone who's grown quite surprisingly invested in the ZYC-PSJ dynamic, I'm kind of morbidly interested in this reading of events.

What might be going through PSJ's head at ZYC's words, if at this moment she hasn't yet realized his self-sacrificial intent? Does she think she's going to be asked to stay? Does she assess the situation, conclude that she's the person ZYC is least close to and perhaps the one least able to contribute in whatever comes next as the only human here, and begin resigning herself to this outcome? Are the tears in her eyes the sole indication of her conflicted unwillingness to die here that makes it through because as he's talking, she's evaluated that this is the best possible scenario for them all (esp for WX) and will commit herself to his decision even if it also breaks her heart to be chosen this way?

I may be taking this and running a bit far with it, but I just think the ambiguity of this one brief moment can create such angsty implications between the lines (as if we needed more angst...) and despite their scarce onscreen interactions, I'm kind of a sucker for the "extremely noble (to the point of tragedy) knight choosing to acknowledge and follow and dedicate their silent loyalty to a leader they deeply respect" dynamic, even if it is understated with all the other relationships going on in this show. Given how reticent PSJ is, it makes a meaningful impact on me every time she displays concern for ZYC, so you know it crushed me to watch her desperately and irrationally (the most pragmatic of them all!) try to shoot at him with her arrows while knowing there's no way it'd work. The way she was the first to act, the sound of nothing but the ice and the stretch of the bowstring. I really do love their platonic bond much more than I expected to.

Oof. The freezing. I don't want to sound like a broken record but I loved TJR's acting here because I think it's so easy for this scene to look awkward as he's stuck facing forward and pretending to freeze haha. His microexpressions as he realizes ZYZ is behind him, as he tries to chase him away with his words, as he's probably burning from the inside out with all that ice. That last tear as his gaze turns hollow. A+

I also love ZYZ's lines about not believing he can't overcome ZYC's powers like yeah this is a newborn demon with no inner core and ice powers that he taught him lmao

Okay, that's a wrap for my thoughts on this ep! I was originally going to include ep 27 reactions here too, but seeing as this is getting a little long, maybe I'll roll 27 into my thoughts on ep 28? We shall see!

[magiturge]

okay.. go my sheriff/hank ( individual and pairing ) headcanons / thoughts this is going to be really long, careful when you open it.

each dash is its own thing. for hank ( he / they / it / she is reserved. ) :

- hank is G01 / generation 1 grunt, but a particularly strange one in the sense that they are not a grunt. hank is a script. i headcanon hank as being the cannoneer / cannoneer script in the original marshmallow madness and how they are shown in the magiturge arena mode ending. i am on purpose ignoring that he was mentioned to be a G02 by swain.. hank is a script and as such behaves differently than everybody else because they were never intended to be a person or an entity. hank as the cannoneer script was intended to just be that, a placeholder with a face in the very early stages of nevada's creation and the nowhere. i started to lean into this headcanon a lot more when i saw a clip of krinkels answering a question regarding why the maker scribbles out hank in the cave drawings, with him saying "because he's a strange one. he's a very strange one. not really a.. not really a one with the identity as the maker understands it." ..i just think it'd be funny if hank was never meant to have an identity in the first place and was a function first before being a person. it's why hank is so down the straight and narrow about getting the job done, you gave him something to do and he will do it. i like to describe hank as being an extension of the machine itself as a script.

- hank's height, width and depth changes subtly to drastically with each time he dies and comes back. i like to keep his base height at 6'2" but if you were to linger around them for long enough, you might notice every so often that he seems a bit shorter than usual or a bit taller, or he has a bit more or less muscle somewhere. it's just a result of supply of material to sew him back together.

- hank harbors no sense of physical attraction to anybody in the sense of finding anyone 'hot', 'cute', 'pretty', 'sexy', etc. they see absolutely nobody as attractive in that sense and the most you will ever see in terms of complimenting appearances is with how much 'cool factor' there is to something.

- hank sees red. for them there is not really a black and white, a good vs evil, a grey area. everything is red in that everything and anyone can be a tool. it's not really a 'sees red and gets angry / violent' thing. everybody looks the same to it on a moral / alliance / loyalty point. it has no issue turning on you if you get in the way or alligning with you if you can work to the same goal it has.

- for awhile, hank behaved very npc like or average grunt like before the whole punching the boombox guy. a whole lot of no particularly violent activity until that incident and it being like the switch flip of 'oh wait. i dont really know why but i think ive done this kinda killing people thing before ( marshmallow madness ) but im really really enjoying it,' like it might be a natural thing hank knows to do. - almost all of hank's outfit is a diy project it works on when it is bored, parts are stolen during missions ( homes / clothing stores ) or straight from the garbage. in a sense that's how hank is gradually building an identity for themself.

∙ hank has no issue with dying itself, but it's a matter of what circumstance and how they die that will determine if that irritates it enough to come back. ( i.e some stupid rug pulling bullshit or getting a kill stolen by dying to something stupid. )

- much of hank's skin is discolored or outright not the same shade or tone as their original skin since they're a hankenstein of various people's body's now ( haha ). they're also missing some certain parts that don't particularly bother them. its more like accessory and so long as they have the necessary parts that won't cause them complications, it frankly doesn't give a shit if something is gone.

for sheriff ( he ) : - go my transgender bear. - sheriff self medicated with alcoholic and as a result, over the years became a functioning alcoholic. this is entirely based on the line of 'pass the whiskey' he has and also the whole.. debacle he's been put in. he smells always vaguely of whiskey as a result of this. he feels a bit braver drunk but y'know.. reality backhands him in the face again and he focuses.

- sheriff and jeb are not friends. at best they are aquaintances, allies by circumstance not by goal. sheriff is afraid of jeb and worries about pissing him off as it might mean he loses an ally and potentially gains an enemy if he doesn't comply with his orders ( i.e assisting jeb in plans like lending his men to deal with hank ). at this point in time, jeb seems wildly unstable and too zeroed in on his savior bullshit for sheriff to feel comfortable speaking up at all about not wanting to deal with this stuff anymore. sheriff was a normal guy first that had no intention of getting involved with this stuff in the first place until jeb pulled him into it with fear as a motivation. jeb isn't a friend, just a 'friendly-face'. - sheriff has gotten better at hiding his fear / non-fighter nature at least with the way he talks. the fear and the desire to live is always there but the way he presents himself feeds into how he is perceived. at the end of everything, sheriff is always running away from the site of conflict if he's in an unsafe spot or at a disadvantage. covering up his fear makes him appear very cocky and arrogant - sheriff's hair is long as well as his beard, it is like a mane. it's his pride and he tries his best to keep it well maintained but he's.. too stressed to keep it up all the time. there are some curly and wiggly looking hairs ( i don't know the right term for it ) sticking out, and some parts tangled and thick. he feels weird if he were to ask anyone of his men to brush it out. - sheriff is a lot better at fighting and defending himself at this current point in time ( mpn2 and ahead ) but he is held back by the fact he is worried about dying or getting injured in general. he's afraid of taking a risk and would much rather use traps and a whole lot of walls in the way. - sheriff likes to hum, whistle and sing quietly to soothe his nerves. unfortunately, given his desire to uphold a strong image, he overthinks that being heard humming or singing, even quietly, around any of the MERC units will have him perceived as too soft or an oddity. for this reason, he is usually found whistling little bits when he's actually roaming the MERC buildings and his humming and quiet singing is for when he's patrolling the industrial sector walls on his own. - he carries a level of care for the MERC under his leadership but has a confused relationship with his individuality and being a part of a group. he was a guy first and foremost and because of the responsibility that was put onto him by jeb to protect these people he feels an obligation to forego his feelings and emotional needs. as a result he doesn't really.. interact with them on a super friendly level as much as he would say, a stranger with a friendly chat. he sees them as just people to be protected, a group and not individuals. he can separate himself from them but he also cant. - the nutrient slop in a can he's been eating for so many years has dulled his sense of taste a bit. if you gave him something that tasted real, even as greasy as a goddamn burger his face would light up. hot food does things to your mind and you dont realize it until you've had it again. - sheriff and the industrial sector represent each other. with large walls and many defenses to protect himself but with unfortunate cracks and weak points created over time. there can be so many barriers but many pathways, many vents for someone to crawl through and find the weak point.

ok. go my old man yaori.

their entire relationship is a push and pull. - their relationship (?) is a secret for as much as they are capable of keeping it a secret. sheriff desperately wants to keep it a secret because he fears that his men ( MERC ) finding out could potentially get him exiled or worse killed for being a 'traitor'. he also doesn't want to lose that sense of safety and togetherness, a stable foundation for him to stand and walk on. it's why he kicks himself in the head about the whole thing because he knows he shouldn't be getting involved like this. - as i mentioned before, hank feels no physical attraction to anybody and that applies to sheriff as well. it feels nothing in terms of 'wow he's cute' or 'he's hot'. the times that it can be mistaken that hank finds something about sheriff that is cute in terms of physical appearance is for different reasons. for example.. sheriff blushing and hank responding positively to that is not because hank finds that image to be cute but because he understands that image to be a positive thing. if : sheriff is blushing, then : i did something good, since i understand blushing as something that happens when someone is flattered. it elicits a positive reaction from hank because he understands it as something good and beneficial, rather than it being found personally cute or pretty. - hank thinks that sheriff did have a sort of glow up and that he looks 'cooler' now ( i.e you don't look like a wimp anymore ) however he thinks that the absolute layering of clothes, body armor and ammo looks tacky as hell. he gets why sheriff is wearing all that but it could have better days. they do find the leather chaps sheriff wears to be the one thing that kind of look cool, so it has taken the liberty of messing with them a bit, with permission, to make them look a bit cooler. it likes leather. on the topic of what sheriff wears, hank also doesn't like what he's wearing because it makes sheriff obnoxiously annoying to fight in close combat. it'll swing at sheriff and feel the padding and get a bit irritated because he really is just layered in protection, no satisfaction that it normally gets from feeling the injury caused in a fight. ..hank knows that it'd be better to leave not too many injuries, but that doesn't stop it from being irritated when they trade punches and it can feel a bruise on the highway while sheriff likely hasn't gotten something so serious. it's the kind of bullshit it doesn't like. hank wears body armor and padding too but not nearly as much. - they're both at around level terms of fighting capability, it is their personalities and style that make the difference. hank does not like sheriff's style of fighting in the presence of other people watching whatsoever as he thinks it's cowardly and unengaging. he's always at a distance, rapid fire, itchy finger. it's like dealing with a turret with self awareness and a mouth to run insults at you. the bullshit bullshiiiit he doesnt like. it's why hank prefers the little spats they get in. - hank's biggest upside in their situationship is how direct and to the point they are, it really hates the dancing around the topic sheriff does. if sheriff is being particularly dodgy about something or acting differently or avoidant, hank asks directly what is going on. it figured out relatively fast that sheriff's cowardly avoidant nature applies to just about anything and it has to adapt to that. sheriff's biggest downside is his reluctance to vocalize his needs as he doesn't entirely perceive hank as a person yet, still seeing him partially as the man in the posters, meaning he doesn't believe hank is capable of accommodating, being affectionate, or being considerate of his needs.

- sheriff hates vocalizing or articulating anything that seems like proof to the world or himself of his affections towards hank. something simple as wanting to have an embrace, he does not want to say it. it's acknowledgement of his affections, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it. he would rather outright go for the hug or for hank to initiate it first. on the same note, neither of them say i love you to each other. hank doesn't particularly care.. it just sees it as another expression of affection and it doesn't find words to be as fun as actions. sheriff doesn't say it for the reasons above and it feels way too intimate for him anyway. it's like saying 'yes, hank j wimbleton most wanted person in nevada who has killed many many and killed me once as well, i lovey wovey you'. he feels stupid saying it. it's 3 words but he hears a lot more. - sheriff still maintains a grudge for having been killed by hank many years ago, it's sort of shallow now though. he already got even with hank at the start of this snowballing situation, as they had a spat and he shot them dead. - hank is the grounded one in the situationship, more mentally stable and.. decisively stable than sheriff. he often has to be very blunt so sheriff stops rocking around, thinking too hard about something. - they don't talk to each other that often but on the chances they do, they do have some.. detailed conversations on things. it can range from something mundane as guns, what attachments they like on theirs to .. more delicate topics.

- hank often returns to sq hq smelling faintly of whiskey and sheriff often returns to MERC warehouses smelling vaguely of rotting bodies and blood. they both have smelled each other and they both think they both smell like shit. when possible, sheriff will continuously nudge that hank go and bathe, though that means sheriff has to as well. - hank thinks sheriff is a bit.. like crazy? or at least not making the smartest decisions sometimes. he wonders why sheriff maintains really long hair even though he works around machinery a lot. hank thinks that he's beign a bit ridiculous for being such a worry wart and not doing anything about the glaring issue in his wardrobe. it has vocalized this issue and are usually met with sheriff giving him a bit of a dirty look. at the least, hank does like to touch his hair. sheriff doesn't particularly care that much about hank touching his hair, just that he doesn't cut it. it likes to feel the texture and pick out tangles, it gives hank something to do in a mundane slow time. - sheriff has one of hank's black bandanas. it let him keep it when sheriff as gotten a bit of a nasty slash during a spat they had together, hank had tied it around the wound and he let sheriff keep it. sheriff now uses it as part of his outfit from time to time. it alternates usually from 3 places : a hair tie for a low ponytail, tied around his arm, or most unseen, in his right back pants pocket. aaha. hheh. heh. ok i'm tired, there's more but big man wants to eat his damn ass food.. idk uh, my writing somewhat properly is escaping me

[theshiftingwitch]

Hi!

I have horrible OCD and I can’t get my mind to understand the way I need to differentiate between my desired reality and my thoughts.

I’ve been struggling with it for months because of coaches and people always saying our thoughts are what create our reality. Since I’ve come to understand that the 4D and our imagination creates our reality, and reality is an echo of our thoughts, it’s really fucked up my entire faith and I can’t trust my own words and desires anymore.

I can only bring myself to manifest smaller things like money, or clearer skin and longer hair etc because of fears. My mind has convinced me I have illness and that Ill never get to reality shift because of my OCD, and what’s so scary is that it feels so real.

I don’t know what to do anymore, I don’t know how to release this energy of constantly being convinced there’s illness in me or my own parent, I have no idea what I can visualize to make things better because my mind just shows me images of me and my parent sick all day. I don’t know what mindset I can have apart from the fact that reality is an echo of our thoughts.

Do I continue to affirm that my desired thoughts obliterates and destroys my fears of illness even thought I constantly get scary images that feel so real? I don’t have anyone who understands my problems at such a spiritual level and I’ve tried so hard to find meditations exactly for this but none of them fit to my standards.

I’m so tired and I’m almost completely giving up due to how real my OCD feels. It’s always surrounding illness in the stomach area which has created this horrible stuck energy that almost fuels my OCD. When Im most terrified what can I do?

What do I do?

Sorry for the long message! 🫶🏻🥺

Hello!

Surprisingly, this is not the first ask I get about manifesting/shifting while struggling with OCD (I'll leave the links down for you)

First, I have to say this because I can't, in good conscience, give you my advice without letting you know : I am not a professional. Manifestation and loa and shifting are not a replacement for professional help, so if you can, please speak to someone who knows what they're doing when it comes to complex mental health.

You said you can only bring yourself to manifest small things, then you listed things people have been struggling with for months! There are no small or big manifestations, everything is of equal value when it comes to loa, so already you've proven to be a powerful manifestor.

And yet, as powerful as you are, you haven't been able to manifest this illness that plagues your mind. You're not sick, your family is not sick, you're all doing just fine. So why is it that this particular thought didn't manifest when we always say that our thoughts create our realities?

The mind is a complex thing, and your subconscious is a sponge that absorbs whatever you tell it without debate or questions. However, manifesting is not simply thinking a thought and letting it come into your reality. Manifestation requires clear DESIRE. It needs a strong intention and a burning desire for that which you WANT to manifest. If you're thinking a thought and it feels so real and yet the whole time your mind is going " I don't want this! I don't want this outcome! Please don't bring this into my 3d reality, this feels awful, I don't like this! Make it stop" you're signalling to your subconscious mind that this is not a desire, so it gets handled as such.

Intrusive thoughts are just that, a thought that doesn't belong and is intruding on your normal line of thinking. You can't manifest that which you do not desire. Your mind is smarter than that, the universe is smarter than that!

Check out these posts if you have more questions about this, and happy manifesting ❤️

[starryswitchy]

i'm an autistic person with significant sensory issues who is pretty good at shopping, and I'd like to help others maybe not suffer so much, so here's my system:

1. i wear sunglasses in the supermarket (i wear sunglasses a LOT, in a lot of indoor locations, and honestly the supermarket is the place i'm least likely to get a funny look or a question) ((i don't wear headphones cause it freaks me out that someone could come up behind me, but you could wear headphones if that doesn't apply to you))

2. i try to go at weird times when i can, like it's not always possible with work, but i definitely avoid the busy busy times, so it's not too too noisy (some of the supermarkets also now do like an Accessible Hour where they have the lights dim and the music off; I haven't tried that yet but it sounds good!)

so between the sunglasses and going at quiet times, I can tolerate being in the supermarket a lot longer

3. i break up my shop; i get a couple of daily things in a small shop on my way home from work (like fresh bread), and then i get the stable items in as bulk as possible, as rarely as possible (based on what i can afford and what i can transport and what i can store, like i can't get a YEAR of toilet paper but i can definitely get several dozen rolls at once)

4. i also break up some of my shop to online options where affordable, like there's a local eco shop that i get my soap, toothpaste, laundry detergent, chocolate, etc, and the shipping isn't expensive cause they're local, but it takes a bunch of stuff off my grocery list (plus they use all paper packaging and stuff!)

5. i check for grocery delivery, and sometimes there's a coupon or something, and also sometimes a specific delivery option turns out to be good value, like for a while we were living in an area with a milk service, and it was actually only a little more expensive overall to get the milk dropped at the doorstep, and it was so convenient. I really miss that service now we moved elsewhere!

so now I've eliminated daily perishables (I'll just grab those on the way home quickly), big bulk items (I'll go like once a month to specifically get those), various miscellaneous (delivered from the local eco shop), and maybe milk or something (if there's a delivery service that isn't expensive), so when I'm at the supermarket i basically only need to look for my overall food for the week

6. the online grocery delivery page doesn't know I'm not going to order, so I look on there if I'm not exactly sure what to get, or how much something costs, or if something exists. (if you're organised you can make a REALLY specific list using the online grocery thing, especially if your supermarket does like a "pickup" service, like the options on the online system are exactly what's in the shop, and if someone orders online, a grocery worker just prints out the order and walks around the shop and puts all the things in a bag for the person to pick up. you can do that too! make your list, print it out yourself, and just go around to pick up exactly those things!)

7. I have little systems for how to make decisions, like, okay for fruit if I'm stuck between options, always pick the one that'll last longest, for flour just always pick the cheapest by weight, for a spice I'm not going to use much of just pick the smallest container, and you can put those deciders on your list, like "spaghetti, min 500g, cheapest option", so then when you're in the shop, you're just searching for the cheapest 500g of spaghetti, not trying to decide between a dozen kinds and prices and weights and offers of spaghetti

so when I'm at the supermarket, I have a list that's as specific as possible, with notes on how to make decisions (for me the notes are mental notes cause that works for me, but you can totally write them down if it helps, especially at first)

the supermarket is a very difficult location, but I actually really like supermarkets now! when the pressure is off, the supermarket is like a cultural experience centre, full of interesting products to look at and maybe even buy and eat. sensory overload and decision paralysis are so awful, and so debilitating, and it's ridiculous that supermarkets aren't more accessible. but I hope seeing my system might be useful for other autistic people!

/venting /gen

neurodivergent culture is trying your hardest to plan a list to get to the store but being overwhelmed by all the options, and prices, and lights, and shadows, and noises, and people, that it takes six hours or so, and tears, but still not getting everything you needed anyways.

stores are designed to be disorientating and overwhelming for neurotypicals so they spend more. so yeah, of course we would come out of there exhausted.

seriously. i dont understand how people joke about how growing up is learning to enjoy going to the grocery store. at least with a 'junkdrawer-store' it's not necessities, just nicknacks you likely wont buy anyways and thus you can walk away at any time.

you need groceries to live. you need to suffer through till it's done

please dont tell me to get it dropped off that is expensive financially.

.

[fluentisonus]

chiens-loups

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

so. The Lights Out AU. Those that are asleep? Where on earth are they? Like where the heck is Eddie? Laying in some puddle somewhere? in a bed? Is Frank looking after him until he wakes up?

they were originally in their houses, but after a ah... incident, Wally moved them into storage room off-set. it's a bit small so they're a little crammed in there with other Props and shelves and boxes and such, but it's not like any of them are awake to mind it. Walls regularly checks on them (usually along with removing them for one of Sally's plays) and makes sure to keep the door shut tight