#(to be clear this isn't something I think is bad or am stressing about. just... being a human being is weird

[lurking-latinist]

?

[lith-myathar]

disordered eating talk in the tags

[soupblr]

Displacement

Denial

Projection

Rationalization x x

Regression

[stilljuststardust]

I fear I'm not practicing the LOA "right" and i'm so anxious. I keep thinking "what if all my persistence is useless because i'm not practicing the LOA right?" I can't tell if I'm truly partaking in imagination or just simply daydreaming. My understanding of the concept of "daydreaming" and "imagination" seems to have no clear distinct difference. Maybe I'm spiralling, but I feel like a fraud and can't seem to have faith in my own abilities. I continue to doubt everything because I wonder "does not feeling fulfilled in imagination mean my 4D has not shifted because I don't understand I have it?"

Is it okay to not feel anything or even feel bad towards your desires but still understand you have it and actually shift realities?

Take a deep breath.

You are going to be ok. There is nothing wrong with you. You are safe. You are stronger than you think. I believe in you. Not feeling anything is OK.

I have a laptop I manifested sitting next to me right now. I didn't feel anything when I was manifesting it and I don't feel like I have it even though it's physically here right now.

Please don't be so mean to yourself. You're going to be ok

Disclaimer: This may be controversial because people have really been shitting on affirmations lately, so let me first say that all methods work. This is just my personal experience. I understand that some of you will disagree with this post, that's OK. Please respect that everyone has their own beliefs.

Emotions don't matter

I normally put links at the end but you should really read this: it's ok to feel like shit

I know you're very stressed out, I am also a very anxious person. Please know that hurting deeply doesn't mean you can't manifest.

Feeling is not what manifests. For a long time I ran in circles because I was trying to force my emotions to conform.

I am a very anxious person sometimes bordering on paranoid. If my reality was solely dependent on what I felt like was happening a girl with long hair would be crawling out of my TV right now.

The truth is emotions are fickle. Trying to force an extremely positive emotional state will most likely just make you hurt more.

Often the most painful part of suffering is our constant attempt to suppress it instead of processing the emotion.

We are not our feelings. We are often subject to dramatic and irrational emotional states that don't reflect our actual thoughts and opinions.

"I feel awful and I don't like how often I'm feeling it" often leads us into thinking "nothing is ever going to work for me", but it's important to ground ourselves and realize that feeling like shit is not divine undeniable proof that it isn't going to work.

So what does manifest?

Your dominant thoughts and mental state.

The thoughts you repeat over and over and over. Your subconscious listens to everything you tell it and it takes you at face value every single time. If you repeat something to your subconscious it will push that experience into your reality.

You ARE manifesting, just not what you want.

I'm guessing your most common thoughts right now sound something like this:

"why isn't it working" "what am I doing wrong" "why can't I get this right"

THAT is what is manifesting right now.

It's not about feeling like you have it, it's about thinking thoughts that imply you do.

So what's the whole deal with the 4D 3D thing? Those are just buzzwords that mean your internal and external world. Your internal world manifests. What part of your internal world is constant? Your thoughts. You may not be visualizing or mediating all day but you ARE thinking all day every single day. (visualization and mediation still do work, I'm not discrediting those methods. Your mental images are still thoughts)

What now? (What I think you should do)

I want you to try robotic affirmations. There is literally no way to do them wrong. They don't require feeling or belief. its ok if repeating them feels wrong.

This is all you have to do:

All of your thoughts and words are affirmations so don't affirm against your desire. I know these are often very very habitual. That's ok, you just need to break the habit. Flip the thought or start affirming.

Repeat thoughts that imply it has manifested. It's best if it's in your own words. What would you say if it his happened? Now repeat that sentence whenever possible. Whenever you are doing something that is boring like a chore or showering instead of letting your mind water repeat your affirmation.

Don't try to feel it or imagine it, just repeat the sentence. That's why they're called robotic. There's nothing else to do but repeat them. Hopefully this gives you less to worry about.

LINKSSSS:

How to break a thought pattern

Affirm and persist

Do I have to believe?

Robotic affirmations

Please please please watch this.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Howdy, so I don't know if you have seen The Last of Us, but if you have, you know the scene where Joel saves Ellie from the hospital and he just ploughs through everyone and its like wow -///-

I just think it would be a really cool like drabble if this was a Din x reader fic? Only if you wanted to write it though!! Also I'm so happy that I'm on your taglist for inevitable because I jump to read it every time that I see that I've been tagged, it has me in a chokehold and the way that you write the reader is so damn good.

Your writing is something that brings comfort to me every week, and the way you interact and talk to your followers is so sweet. I love coming back from a stressful day to sit down somewhere comfortable to enjoy your work.

Anyways thanks for reading this ramble of an ask and I hope that you're doing well :)

[a/n]: combining some stuff here! this is for the anon who asked for this scene AND for @cockscombkingdom who asked for a fic in Din's POV where he takes care of reader and keeps her safe. I started with the plan to make this very sweet and fluffy and I'm not gonna lie a little darkness seeped into it. my bad.

also in case it isn't abundantly clear i am a joel miller apologist thx

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, injuries, mild dark!din (if you squint and/or have a problem with murder)

Word Count: 1,440

Summary: You were selfless. You gave and you gave and you gave. The universe planned to only take more, but Din Djarin would be damned if he let it.

LOOK FOR THE LIGHT

.

"you'd just come after her." -Joel Miller (TLOU)

.

Din was worried about you. He was always worried about you because you were always on his mind. It couldn’t be helped. Somebody had to because it seemed like you were perpetually too worried about everyone else. Din admired that about you. He always had. You went out of your way to help anyone and everyone who approached. You had a heart that was always willing to give, and it left you too little to use for yourself.

When the two of you first began traveling together, he noticed that about you. Sometimes you’d get so preoccupied watching Grogu you’d forget to eat. Peli had once put you to work, organizing her tools as part of the payment to fix the Razor Crest, and you had been so focused on getting the work done well that you had taken no breaks and ended up dehydrated and weak under Tatooine’s hot suns. It’s why the mission he was delivering you to made such simple sense to him. You were special, is what you told him. Din knew you were special, felt it, but it was for very different reasons. According to you, there was something in your blood, some type of cell, that could cure a lot of people of some terrible, terrible disease spreading through a world in the Outer Rim.

Din tried to keep his distance from you. Tried to not get attached. But you were so selfless, that it naturally brought out his protective side. He couldn't help but care for you, but caring for you as a responsibility had quickly turned to loving you along the way. Din didn’t know a lot about love. Didn’t have much experience with it, lust was easier to grasp, and that left him confused most of the time. Din had no idea how to express what he felt for you, how to explain it in words, so he did the only thing he could do. Din took care of you. Kept you safe when he stopped to pick up quarries, made sure you remembered to eat and drink water, reminded you to go to bed and when you would eventually forget anyways he’d carry you there himself. Din didn't know what love was supposed to feel like, but what he did know was that being without you made his heart physically ache and protecting you brought him happiness. 

Maybe that’s all he needed to know.

‘It’ll be okay.’ You had promised him with a smile that made your features glow. ‘Shouldn’t take long.’

That had been hours ago. Din delivered you to the medical facility as he had been hired, but when you hadn’t come back out he sought after you. It’s why he now sat in a small room, Imperials flanking the door, as he simmered in disdain. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Mandalorian.” A man stepped into the room. A doctor from the looks of it with thin, round rimmed glasses. The name ‘Pershing’ pinned to his lapel. Din stayed silent. “I was under the impression that you had been paid. Was there an issue?”

“No.” Din replied. “Where is she?”

Dr. Pershing paused and shook his head as if confused. Din tilted his head a bit, an obvious threat in body language, and the doctor was smart enough to realize this. He nervously cleared his throat. “She is being prepared for her operation.” Din narrowed his eyes in confusion. You told him they’d just need your blood. “There is no reason for you to stay.”

“I promised her a ride back.”

There was a tense silence that filled the room at his words. Din watched the doctor squirm where he stood and he needed no further clarification. He shoved up from the table, prepared for a fight, when the Imperials leveled their own weapons at him before he could reach his blaster.

Dr. Pershing held his hands up in a placating manner. “She will be a hero. After we drain her of all her blood, we can make a cure. There’s a 65% chance this will work and save the people of this world.” Din was fuming under his armor. Drain your blood? They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for something that only had a 65% chance of even working. “She will not be in pain! She’s been put under! She will not feel a thing, and we did not scare her with the news.” Din staggered back as if he had been physically hit. Was this man saying… Dr. Pershing confirmed Din’s thoughts. “We did not tell her this would kill her. We spared her that misery. She went under anesthesia peacefully.”

The words echoed in Din’s head loudly. As if a bomb had gone off right beside him and left him deaf and blind. He walked on autopilot as the Imperials escorted him through the building toward the exit. They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for a shot in the dark cure. Din was literally paces to the door when his boots stilled. The Imperials shoved him, tried to get him to move, threatened to shoot him, and then Din snapped.

With the practiced precision of a bounty hunter and Mandalorian who spent most of his life in a fight, Din spun and cut down the Imperials in one swift movement. The darksaber glowed angry in his hands, casting threatening shadows down the hall. Never before had the sword worked so well for him, but as Din marched through the facility it was practically an extension of himself. Blaster fire pinged off his beskar and he did not hesitate. If a person stepped into his path he eliminated them. Cold. Ruthless. A predator. Din stalked the medical facility searching for you, and he left a wake of death and destruction in his path.

When he finally caught sight of you, through a window into some kind of clean room. Din felt his heart flutter in his chest. The first twinge of emotion since starting this rampage. It was a reminder of why he was doing this. A reminder that his actions were necessary.

Din stormed into the room, his eyes not leaving your unconscious form as you laid on a table in a hospital gown. The staff in the room panicked in a flurry, and one of them⏤ maybe the doctor maybe a nurse, Din didn’t even register who the kriff it was⏤ rushed him in a poor attempt to stop this onslaught. Din cut them down without blinking. Without taking his eyes off of you. The second you were in his arms, Din felt marginally settled. He wasn’t going to lose you, couldn’t lose you. Din had sworn to himself that he’d take care of you, it was all he knew how to do, and he wasn’t going to stop for the sake of anyone.

Not even the sake of a world.

As Din carried you out of the building it occurred to him that he may be dooming an entire population of people. This world’s chances of survival were dropping from 65% to 0%. He knew that he should care. He knew that this information should bother him. That it should make his steps more hesitant and make his chest ache in indecision, but it didn’t. His choice had never been more clear to him. It was either this world or you. Din was choosing you. He’d always choose you.

When back on the ship, Din had only carried you a few steps when gasping could be heard. He turned around to see Dr. Pershing at the end of the ramp holding a blaster at him. The man was breathing hard, face red, as if he had sprinted all the way here to stop this from happening. Din had to admire his dedication. The man believed in this cause so much he was willing to go head to head with a Mandalorian who had just single handedly cleared out a medical facility. 

“I can’t let you do this.” Dr. Pershing snapped. “You’re dooming this world if you take her!”

A blaster fired. Dr. Pershing stumbled back, a hole in his chest, and Din held his blaster firm in his hand. Your legs draped over that arm had hidden his weapon well. A strangled gasp left the man’s lips and he collapsed into a motionless pile. Din shook his head, responding to a dead man’s words, “I don’t care.”

Din would protect you under any and all circumstances.

 Was that love?

[yukirayu]

You've mentioned disliking bad translations no matter whetter official or fan-made, and gave the example of Mink in the DMMD fanpatch. Can you elaborate? Did he get the Madarame treatment?

Yes, that's true. And it doesn't even have to be bad in terms of adding too many cuss words or country-specific slang or changing POV or anything else. All in all, the DMMD fan patch did follow the original narration viewpoint (since it's always been in first person) both in the first game and in the sequel. And yes, there are some slang and cursing in those too (like referring to Clear's pockets as Mary Poppins) but it's still kept to a manageable level that while I noticed it, it never truly bothered me.

Though back when Tumblr was still big, as I got into DMMD, it came to my attention as I checked tags and posts of other DMMD fans that the fanmade patch - which I am grateful to one way or another for getting me into the VN - really and I mean really had it out for Mink.

One thing is definitely certain, Mink's route in the first game is definitely not the easiest to swallow (like Madarame's) and his ending in the fandisc sequel does address the why behind that. Whether fans like or dislike him at the end of that is for them to decide.

But the fan patch team loathed Mink enough that they considered leaving him out of the translations entirely. When they eventually decided to include him, they basically had him talk very rudely (when he is to the point and forthright, but there's a difference between that and him spewing harsh and condescending insults), alter the narration (which again, is from Aoba's POV) to make the whole story sound like a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome (which let me stress, is nothing of the sort and is already its own can of worms) - both of which they ramped up to eleven in the sequel, where the two are meant to clear the air between them and find closure about what happened and then truly get together afterwards - all so that the fans can view him with the same disdain that they have of him.

It all boils down to "I see the plot/characters this way, and I will let that view affect how I word the text so that I can influence the readers/players to think similarly of it". Which what the fan patch team did with Mink, and in a way, also what the localization did with Slow Damage, since now Towa gets characterized as what others have called an "edgy gooner" when that's missing the point of his story entirely (which is also part of the overarching plot). While that could still have happened even with a good translation that was released from the beginning, since fandoms like to reduce characters to a meme/joke, for better or worse.

Back to Mink, there are a few other posts here on Tumblr (I doubt it is all of them) that point out how his route was tampered with on purpose, and I'll just share those links here for your reference: Link 1 | Link 2 | Link 3. Someone even attempted to retranslate Mink's route in the first game (alas, it never got completed, but it does manage to cover at least half of his route).

Needless to say, it got bad enough that many have suggested reading the alternate fan translation of the sequel (which was made before the fan patch came out) instead, since it isn't prejudiced against Mink. Now I do wish to make it clear here that the point about what happened with Mink's route isn't about having the characters like/dislike Mink, but about the importance of not letting one's bias affect the text, something that can be ignored in both fanmade and official translations.

Ah, I almost forgot, but yeah. In a way, Madarame got a similar treatment. Madarame talks bluntly and casually as well, but the Japanese text doesn't have him cuss every sentence or every other sentence. And whatever crudeness is in the text in other routes, it definitely is a lot more magnified in Madarame's route. And all even that aside, there's also one context that was notably changed in the very opening his route.

Like in that last sentence. From the original, you'd think that he's denying that he's acting for the sake of revenge and dismisses that as pathetic. Though the patched version implies that he does seem intent on revenge (even if he doesn't say it to Towa or denies it to Toono's face when Toono asks if that's what he's been doing) and that it isn't pathetic to do. Of course, this is just one example. And it doesn't change that even with a professional translation, Madarame's route is still also the bleakest and the one that's most tough-as-nails, but context always matters.

If anything, a good way of showing how the patch and the localization differ would be to record both versions from beginning to end and play them side by side.

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

Somebody else (Noah Sebastian one shot)

Inspired by Somebody else by Bad Omens

hope ya'll like :) English is not my first language btw, sorry for any grammar and/or spelling mistakes.

--

He's too good to be true.

He's too good to be true, and my hope for him feeling the same is too good to be true. Everything is at this point.

I watch Noah get dressed again as we are done with our hook up that is almost scheduled for us at this point. My growing feelings for him is the thing that makes this so, so much harder for me every time we meet and dive deep into the sheets-I want to dive deep into way more than just his sweaty body and him into mine.

Me and Noah agreed that this is just for fun, for distraction, to get off stress, to use each other to fulfill our filthy minds. But for me it became much more than that, making me break our promise.

'You never loved the thought of us... do you?' I begin as I grab my sheets closer to my naked chest, feeling way too exposed now as I take a chance of finally speaking my honest feelings out to him. It might be scarier than anything else I have ever done before.

He sighs deeply through his nose, as he puts his black boots back on as he sits at the edge of my bed. Of course I get no contact. Of course this is all I will get. Why did I even expect anything else or more?

'I should go.'

That's the only reponse I can get out of him. But I am getting too numb to his touch and his excuses.

'Okay,' I then mumble, getting frustrated now, the grip of the blanket against my chest now thightening. I then take in a deep, shaky breath, as I say: 'Maybe you should find someone else, Noah. Maybe this should stop.'

He then stops in his tracks when he hears me say that, turning around to look at me with confused eyes. 'Stop...?' he repeats, now not taking his eyes off mine.

'Yeah,' I gulp. 'I mean... we clearly aren't standing the same in this.'

Why is this so difficult for me?

'And what do you mean by that?' Noah asks as he shifts his body to face me more, his eyes still burning through mine, and it does not help my nerves one bit. He raises his eyebrows as well.

'Well... I know that we said that sex isn't love...' I start.

He hum as I speak, and maybe I am imagining too much, but it almost looks like a slight spark of fear flashes before his eyes for a moment. It must be my mind making up things.

'I think for me it's starting to feel like it is,' I continue as I pick on the fabric of my sheets still wrapped around my body, my eyes looking down now. It took a whole lot of courage for me to admit this to myself, even more to Noah right now, and it feels like my heart could bust out at any moment because of pure anxiety going through me. And fear. And maybe... shame.

Probably shame as well because I know Noah would never feel more than just physical attraction, a strict rule we made when we began with this whole... thing, I guess, between us. If you can even call it something. It had to be absolutely nothing more than... anything actually, we have been clear about that. And of course, with time passing by, I began to feel more.

As I look up again, Noah watches me for a moment as he has heard what I have to say, and I know that he has never seen me this vulnerable, ever. I guess that's what makes him speechless right now.

'You're starting... to feel like it's more than just sex?' he finally speaks up after a moment of silence.

'Yeah. And since I know you don't, maybe we just have to quit with this, and move on. Find something else, or.... someone else.' My last words are spoken out more softly.

He clenches his jaw to my words, the second I mention finding someone else. But why? Why would he react this frustrated if this is a dead end between us, a distraction and little activity to please ourselves and nothing more?

'You want someone else then?' Noah asks, his voice a little tense.

'I mean...' I shrug for a moment, looking at him as a frustrated laugh then escapes my mouth. 'Do I even have other options? I know you don't feel the same anyway. So I just have to stop wasting your time, and you my time, and we should quit.'

The words hurt more than they probably should.

I now see his own frustration grow, and I honestly have no clue why he reacts like this. If this is just sex only, he could easily move on to someone else, right?

'So you're just done with me then? Just like that?'

I now harsly sigh at his words, my jaw slightly tensing. 'Noah, did you even hear what I just said?'

'I did. You're telling me that you are starting to feel more than just this casual thing between us... and I'm not,' he says as he repeats what I exactly just said to him, as he stands up from my bed, running a hand over his face as he seems irritated now.

His words hurt, like a fresh cut straight on my heart, and I try to swallow it away. 'Right. So why exactly are you the one feeling frustrated if you don't feel the same way? If I'm just some sex distraction to you, you could easily find someone else right?' My last sentence is spoken out more harshly, more hurt.

He pauses for a moment, seeming to let my words set in. He stares at the wall in front of him, a small sigh escaping his lips as if he needs some courage for the words he speaks back to me.

'Because, you are not just a distraction. You've never been just a distraction to me,' he then says, now looking at me.

I blink a couple of times with my eyes, and it feels like my sense (and breath) is getting knocked out of me for a second. 'What... what exactly are you saying?'

Noah sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, now sitting back on my bed again, a lot closer than before. 'What I'm saying is... that when we started seeing each other like this, I never expected to catch any sort of feelings. And I thought that I could just keep it physical, keep my feelings at bay... but I couldn't-I can't. I couldn't even admit that to myself until right now...'

My heart now hammers madly in my chest, it almost echoing in my ears. 'Are... are you serious? Or are you messing with me?'

He shakes his head, swallowing slightly. 'I'm serious... I've been denying it for so long, and I didn't know how to admit it to myself, let alone to you.'

I just look at him for a moment, just taking in the sight of his honest dark brown eyes, currently having more emotions in them than they ever had before. Before this moment, he had always put on some emotionless and careless expression towards me every time we met, and at some point it just began to hurt-I wanted to see more than just a empty man staring back at me as he hovers above my body. I wanted to hear more than him just cursing in breathless whispers, I wanted to feel more than just his fingers touching me, I wanted to feel him. Really him, and not my now a few times in a week hook up. I wanted to know more than just his skin and lips.

As I look into his eyes, I can see the flood of emotions he apparently had been concealing for months. He sits even closer to me now, and he then quietly speaks once again when I still haven't answered yet.

'I don't want anyone else. I don't want anyone else but you.'

My anxiety now floods away and gets replaced by waves made out of strong feelings of admiration, attraction, and need. Need for him to be more than just a distraction, need for him to be more than just a name on the calendar of my phone with the usual time we meet.

His arms are now wrapped around each side of me, his body leaned more forward to me, even closer to my face now, his eyes still looking into mine. 'I don't want to lose you...'

His tone is much more quiet than before, his eyes flickering down to my lips for a moment, then locking eyes with mine again, making my breath hitch. And finally, after months of pretending, the air and tension between us doesn't feel like some show we have to put on, closing the curtains and not knowing how to write the credits after.

'You don't have to,' I then whisper back.

His hands slowly trail up my thigh as he hears me say that, and my breath now truly gets stuck more into my throat-it feels like I can suffocate any moment by all the feelings overwhelming and choking me all at once. But as soon as his hands then go up to my face, he breathes me back to life straight away.

We both know that there is no way to turn this into a joke anymore, and that the dynamic of our relationship has now changed completely.

[24-05txt]

Soap comes to and he's already walking. This on its own isn't entirely surprising because it's not the first time this has happened. There's just never enough time in the day. He finishes one thing, and then it's right onto the next; steadily marching from one task to another. When most of his life is spent walking, he learns to tune it out. Mental space better wasted on something else.

Present again in his own mind, he takes time for a perfunctory sit-rep. The skies are mostly clear, sparse clouds, and the forest around him is lush with foreign vegetation. He's traveling light, just basic gear and his firearm, a—

... hold on, he doesn't have a firearm. Scratch that, he doesn't have arms.

Soap stumbles, suddenly dizzy, and promptly trips over himself in a heap of new limbs, leaving his field of vision blocked by a wall of blue-grey that he has the horrifying realization is attached to him.

"What the fuck?" He starts, trying and failing to move his fingers or toes. "What the fuck?!"

He's echoed by Gaz somewhere behind and above him, a slightly higher-pitched "What the fuck?" And then, "Captain?!"

"Gaz?" Soap (lacking fingers or toes) wiggles a set of limbs, expecting arms and instead finds that he's stiltedly unfolding a set of wings he'd tangled himself in. He has wings. "Steaming fucking christ."

"Is that a fucking pegasus?" Asks Price, sounding far too calm for the situation at hand. It's quickly remedied when he adds, "Is that a unico—Fuck! What the fuck!" And, honestly, if the Captain is panicking then it's a very bad day indeed.

What seems like hours of shouting, swearing, and flailing pass in a slightly less than hysterical blur for all three of them before they're able to calm enough to take stock of the situation (beyond the well established fact that they all appear to be horses of some variation.)

"Why's Gaz the unicorn?" Soap asks, trying his damndest to distract himself from the very real stress of having two more legs and a total of four new limbs he's not used to. "That's Scotland's national animal, the fuck is a pegasus good for? It should have been me."

"Soap, Jesus Christ, Fuck off." Gaz doesn't look over at him, focused solely on his hooves, trying to stay upright without swaying. His fur (is it fur or hair on a horse? Soap never cared much for horses) is a deep violet, darkest along his spine, but his chest, belly, and legs below the knees are solid white. (Are those the knees? Or are those the ankles? Fuck, if he'd known this was in his future he'd've had a horse phase.) He is also, to Soap's irritation, a unicorn; the horn is the same color as his fur, and he has a little beard that matches his mane and tail, both tight and coily like his human hair.

"Don't think so hard about it," he advises, swallowing his own nausea from making the same mistake. Hypocrite, he is. Actually, he remembers hearing somewhere that horses can't vomit, and wonders dizzily if that applies to pegasi as well. "The movin', I mean. Y'ken what to do if you let your body do it."

"Muscle memory?" Gaz asks, incredulous and still a little hysterical. "How can I have fucking muscle memory when the body is brand new?"

Soap shrugs, then becomes hyper-aware of the fact that horses cannot shrug, despite the fact he just did, and is thrust head-long into another fit of nausea.

"Think am gonna boak."

"No, you're not," says Price, with all the authority of his station. (If your Captain says you're not going to throw up, then by God you better keep a lid on it.) "He's right, though. It's best not to think too hard about how to move, just move and keep your head screwed on while you do it." Despite the surety of his tone, Soap can hear him huffing out every breath through his nose, almost snorting.

"Sir," he and Gaz acknowledge at the same time, and Soap even goes so far as to straighten his posture—solidly not thinking about what muscle groups he has to engage to do it. Just straighten up (and fly right—oh god.)

Soap doesn't know where to rest his gaze. Down, and he sees his hooves (upsetting), up and he sees Gaz and his Captain (also upsetting), too far up and he's just looking through the trees at a picturesque sky (not upsetting, but less than helpful).

"I'm gonna," he starts, then quickly falters, still lokking at the sky and unsure of what, exactly, he's gonna do. (Not vomit, that's for sure.) "Gonna... walk. Around. I'm gonna walk a perimeter." He sounds a little more steady as he realizes that's exactly the thing he needs right now—he needs to be alone for a moment, needs a minute to actually get his shit straight without being distracted by his teammates doing the same.

"Sergeant..." Price's warning tone is slightly strained, and though Soap is watching wind blow through the leaves, he doesn't hear any movement from the Captain's direction.

"I'm not an idiot, Captain, I won't be goin' far. Just need some air Gaz hasn't breathed first."

"Hey." The protest is weak, made more for a sense of routine than any real offense.

Soap obediently waits until he has the reluctant go-ahead from his Captain before he ducks off the beaten path and into the surrounding woodland.

It's easier to look around here, without the risk of catching a glance of some major discrepancy that'll make his stomach turn. He goes far enough that he can only catch glimpses of Gaz's purple coat through the trees before he turns and starts his perimeter.

It's slow-going. He’s trying to get used to looking down and seeing hooves instead of feet, and most his success comes from cataloging them like they belong to someone else, and not him. He notices they're cloven, like a cow's, and a blue so dark it's almost black. Further up, toward what he's decided to call his knees, his fur lightens to a mottled cerulean. Beyond that he's unsure—those observations had to be made in furtive glances because if he looked too long, he'd notice himself walking, and if he noticed himself walking he'd be sent stumbling and cursing into the underbrush.

He's able to notice other things about himself with detached curiosity; he doesn't have a horse's tail, and instead has large, wide tailfeathers, like a bird. When at rest, his wings settle snuggly against his sides, but if he properly relaxes them they droop toward the ground (this was another event that sent him stumbling into the underbrush. Moving naturally was one thing, but trying to single out a single set of limbs he hadn't been born with made him forget about his legs for a moment. The front set. Forelegs?)

Completing half his circuit finds him back on the dirt path, this time behind the Captain and Gaz, speaking in low tones as they put their heads together. Price's coat is a sort of green he doesn't quite know the name of, like the grass turf of a golf course after a bit of rain so there's some mud around the edges of everything. Like Gaz, his legs up to the knees are white, although he also has a diamond-shaped splotch over his shoulderblades. Lucky bastard seemed to be a normal horse, save for the fact his stupid mutton chops made it over somehow.

"If he can't have the hat, suppose it only makes sense he gets to keep his dick-tickler," Soap mutters as he crosses again from dirt path to dense foliage. It's only after a few seconds of no response that he realizes he was waiting for one at all.

Ghost.

Soap spins around, but the lieutenant isn't behind him (no other horses aside from himself, the Captain, and Gaz for that matter). He walks back out onto the path, but sees no sign of anyone or anything that could be Ghost, although Price turns around to give him a concerned look. (He's half convinced that he may be exaggerating the level of expressiveness his Captain has right now, but he's already committed to not thinking too hard about how his hindbrain interprets their situation.)

"Where's Ghost?" He already knows the answer, but Price's sudden look of alarm just confirms it.

They don't know.

[ghxstlike]

i love loving you

leon kennedy x reader content/warnings: petnames (baby), leon being awkward, leon antics, awkward flirting, teasing, cigarette mention, leon’s music taste, anxiety mention, nightmare mention. authors note: i am down bad for this man. he is rotting my brain and i am very okay with it. these are personal headcanons :)

leon's smile always starts out as a smirk. it's very cute.

always has a hand on you. around your shoulders, holding your hand, lightly gripping your thigh. he wants other people to know that you're taken- you're his.

he is a slightly possessive and jealous man. if someone is flirting with you, his eyes are narrowed at the person who is way too close to you, and his leg is bouncing with anxiety.

sooner or later, he saunters over to the two of you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"hey, baby," he whispers in your ear, but it was loud enough for the person in front of you to hear. you shiver, slightly leaning into leon's embrace.

when you first met leon, you were immediately attracted to him. so, of course, you started to flirt with him.

though, he isn't dumb. he knew you were flirting with him (he was flirting back, after all). he teased you for it, obviously.

"are you flirting with me?" he says with a smirk. leon leaned down to get closer to your face, tilting his head.

people say that leon is a flirting machine and is good with women. no he is not.

i mean, yes, he does flirt a lot, but he is not good with women at all.

you found it very charming and cute when he asked you out. a huge smile was plastered on your face, staring at the nervous man in front of you.

“i- hm, i was just- fuck. i was wondering if you, i dunno,” he clears his throat. his face is slightly pink, but he thinks that his face is a deep red by how hot his body feels. “do you want to go get dinner with me sometime?” he manages to get out. he sighs out of relief- he did it. he feels a drop of sweat roll down his temple onto his cheek, shoving his clammy hands into his jean pockets.

of course, you said yes. i mean, who wouldn’t?

y’all aren’t gonna like this, but he definitely smokes cigarettes.

i mean c’mon, he was born in 1977. though, he didn’t willingly start smoking. his friends in high-school peer pressured him.

he tried to stop smoking before his first day at rpd, but it failed miserably. he felt antsy and he was more on edge- angry. he hated that he got easily frustrated with people. he’ll try again someday.

he smells like cigarette smoke and leather. occasionally he smells like coconut & patchouli (his cologne).

always has a stress toy with him. i like to think he wears a fidget ring on his middle finger or thumb. playing with a stress ball or twirling a pen makes him more focused and calm.

bites the inside of his cheek when he’s deep in thought. he doesn’t even notice that he’s doing it, it just happens.

his music taste is decent!

he doesn’t listen to the radio, thinks 2010 music is trash and it’s annoying.

it’s mostly a combination between 90s alt & grunge and early 2000’s rock. his favorite band is radiohead.

always gives eye contact. never looks away when you're talking, especially when you're talking about your long day at work or something you're passionate about.

as we all may know, he's bad at communicating his feelings. you can tell he's getting better with it, but it's still a challenge for him.

he never talks about raccoon city. you only found out about this from overhearing a conversation he had with claire. you brought it up one time, but he fell silent and never looked up at you. ever since then, you never talked about it with him.

mans suffers with frequent nightmares, so obviously he never sleeps. when he's with you though, he doesn't have any nightmares. so, he stays up until you're ready for bed.

when you're out late, he's waiting for you in bed.

leon loves to get his hair played with. he loves the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

if you take meds, he always reminds you to take them. he also watches you take them, just in case.

leon always wants the best for you. he just loves you, so so much.

[somber-sapphic]

hii could you possibly do a jj x reader book where reader is in denial abt being ill 🫶

Too Far

〖Summary: You and JJ have a fight about your health. This is my attempt at angst (with a happy-ish ending), just a heads up that I am still practicing so it may not count as real angst and instead h/c.〗

〖Word Count: 〗

〖Pairing: JJ x Sick R〗

〖Notes: Every time I drink caffeine for writing I think it's a great idea because I'll be able to write so much but then I focus on something that isn't writing for several hours. I played too much Toon Blast. Also this is sort of edited but not that thoroughly〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Y/n what the hell are you doing?” JJ asked, her words laden with exasperation. You looked up from the case file and raised an eyebrow. The two of you had been snippy with each other all day, each of your nerves fraying as the days without catching the killer went on. The fact that Hotch had ordered you to the hotel made everything worse, the guilt of not being able to help the victims eating at you.

“You want to check your tone?” You snapped back, the hoarseness of your voice taking a bit away from the punch you meant to deliver. It was probably for the best, the combination of exhaustion, stress, and what seemed like more than just the sniffles was making you bitter. JJ rolled her eyes and walked over to the desk, dropping the CVS bag beside the papers you had been studying for hours.

“Cold medicine. Take it. And seriously, put the file away and lie down.” You rolled your eyes, something that caused an explosion of pain in your head, but it seemed worth it for the passive aggressiveness. You didn’t want her to know how bad you were starting to feel, you couldn’t give in to the pressure of the team, and everyone worked while they were sick. 

Your fever, stuffy nose, cough, and the pressure in your sinuses were not more important than catching a serial killer. Although the fever was really starting to bother you, weighing down your head and making your eyes burn. And your nose hurt from blowing it so often. And your body ached so badly that it felt like your bones were being squeezed. And your throat felt like you had lived off of a diet of lemon juice and broken glass.

“I don’t need cold medicine because I don’t have a cold. Why are you here anyway, I don't need a babysitter. Don’t you have families to interview?” JJ let out a harsh laugh and plopped herself down onto the bed, crossing her arms over her chest in clear frustration. What the two of you needed was a bit of space before a serious conversation but it wasn’t an option given the current situation. 

“Right, of course not. The obvious cold symptoms are nothing, you’re shivering in a 75-degree hotel room because of a nonexistent draft. And believe me, I don’t want to be here right now but Hotch doesn’t trust you alone.” That last comment cut deep and her face clouded with guilt as soon as she said it. She knew it was too far but it only hardened your resolve. 

“Then leave, there are six other people who could be here it doesn’t need to be you.” 

“Why won’t you just admit being sick? Why? You are not helping anyone here, the only thing you’re doing is hurting yourself. Do you honestly think this is a good idea?” JJ exploded, dragging a hand through her slightly greasy hair. She’d been too preoccupied with your health and the case to have time for more than a quick shower. 

“Do you honestly think I want to work like this? Of course, I feel like shit, my entire body is on fucking fire but if I stop working people will die!” You yelled back, tears brimming in your eyes. You’d finally said it out loud. You’d admitted to the thoughts that had been swirling inside of you, keeping you from even allowing people to talk about the way you felt. 

JJ’s face fell as you felt tears that you couldn’t blink away beginning to run down your fever flushed cheeks. You barely had a handle on your emotions before but now the walls had crumbled to dust and you couldn’t take it. You felt so shitty for so many reasons, it was so hot in your skin and you were struggling to keep case facts straight in your head which only upset you further. 

“Sweetheart,” JJ murmured, taking a half step forward. She’d seen you break down before but never on a case, when it happened it was always at home. 

“No! No! JJ we’ve been here for weeks, he keeps taking them and we don’t even know why, we can't tell these people anything. They hate us, they have every right to fucking hate us! There has to be something missing and-and I can't just sit here and do nothing while people are dying!” You were sobbing now, your chest heaving as you tried to calm yourself down. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a tight hug, a self-soothing method that usually worked to calm you down. The switch had been flipped, you were acting on pure misery. 

“Y/n, honey you said it earlier. There are six other profilers doing everything they can to find the killer. You being sick is not your fault but it is something we need to take care of. If you keep going like this you’re going to mess up, you’re going to hurt yourself, there are so many reasons why you need to rest. Come here, lay down, let me take help you. Please.” 

She was right. You hated it, but she was. You were already mixing up facts about victims in your head, there was really no way that you could be of any use right now. The last thing you wanted to do was stop but even worse would be providing false information that would throw the team off the trail. 

Despite your hesitation, it didn’t take long for JJ to get you settled into bed. She was working with the determination of a worried mother hen, moving quickly to check your temperature, feed you some medicine, and put a cool cloth on your head. You huddled under the fluffy duvet, your body already beginning to shut down now that you weren’t forcing yourself to work.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I haven't been fair.” JJ said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. She flipped the cloth on your forehead, sending a wave of cold through your body. You didn’t like it but she insisted that it needed to be there. 

“Neither have I. But I can’t right now. Can we wait until we’re home?” You pleaded, voice exuding weakness. Even if you wanted to have that conversation there was no way it would be productive in your current state. JJ nodded in agreement and let out a deep sigh. 

Nothing had really been resolved. The apologies from both were surface-level at best but at least there was an admission of wrongdoing on both sides. Your jobs had been hard on the relationship, harder than either of you had thought it would be. For now, the discussion would be tabled, saved for a time when the two of you were in a space to have it. It might not have been perfect but it was better than nothing. 

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[merakiui]

for the fwb asks, "you're enjoying this way too much." with trey please? I am. frothing at the mouth <33

<3 forgive me for being indulgent with this. I wanted to include food play as well,,, orz please enjoy the tasty treat that is Trey's dick. >:D

(fwb dialogues)

In hindsight it was dangerous to do this in the Heartslabyul kitchen where anyone could walk in at any moment. But it's late into the night, and Trey had been kind enough to sneak you in on account of owing you a favor. That's all your relationship really is, truly. Just transactions. Mutual give and take. You help him relieve some stress (because Queen knows managing Riddle is an undertaking in itself) and in return he offers to pay you in sweets (and bodily pleasures, but the former is far more tempting).

You'd been expecting one of his renowned strawberry tarts or a slice of cake, so you're stunned when his lips lift into that trademark scheming smirk. He holds up a can of whipped cream next. Having known Trey long enough to decipher his tastes, it doesn't take a genius to figure this one out.

"You're crazy," you breathe, eyes wide.

"Just risky," he corrects, pushing his glasses up, because everyone's mad here. Moonlight catches on the lenses, shimmering back at you in a foreboding glint.

"We can't do that in here. What if someone walks in?"

Trey procures his magic pen from his pocket, pressing it to his lips. "I won't tell if you won't."

Right. Doodle Suit. Convenient.

"All right then. Get on with it," you concede after a short internal debate. The rewards outweigh the risk in this case. Something tells you Trey would bail you out even if you get caught. Partially because he'd be just at fault.

Trey grins. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"Absolutely. Did you even have to ask?"

Snatching the can from his hands, you squirt some on your finger for a taste while he works to fish himself from his pants. He works himself slowly in one hand, peering down at you after you've lowered to your knees. This isn't the first time you and Trey have fooled around with food and it certainly won't be the last.

You make quick work decorating his erection, unable to tamp down the delighted giggle when it twitches in response to the cool cream.

"Eager," you comment, finishing off with a dollop to his tip. You set the can on the tiled floor and admire your handiwork with an approving nod. "Do we have any cherries? Ooh, what about sprinkles?"

Amusement flickers on his face. "I've been meaning to pick some up. We used the rest of them last time."

"Aw. This'll have to do for now then." You press your lips to the head of his cock, swirl your tongue over it, and draw away with a mouthful of whipped cream. "It's still just as good."

Trey inhales sharply, grabbing at the counter behind him to brace himself. "Mm, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "T-That'll do..."

Scooting closer on the ground, you place your hands on his thighs and lean in again to lick a languid stripe up the underside of his shaft, gathering cream as you go. The motions come easily; you've had his cock in your mouth more times than you've truly studied for any of Professor Crewel's alchemy exams, a bad habit Trey's working to correct. To think you could retain information better when he's blowing your back out... Isn't that something?

Breathing through his nose, he tamps down the slew of sinful groans and instead grips the counter with more force. He's purposely holding back, whether for the sake of keeping quiet or because it's the build-up that entices him. You're not sure which it is, but you're determined to break him tonight.

Licking your lips clean, you look up at him through your lashes to assess the lustful haze glazing his eyes. Whipped cream spots your cheek; you pay it no mind and lean in and wrap your lips around him once more. It's sweet. There's definitely an innuendo to be found there, and Trey seems to notice it right away. He throbs in your mouth, painfully hard.

"You're enjoying this way too much," you say around the mouthful.

Trey chuckles, feigning sheepishness. "It's that obvious, huh?"

You pull away to speak more clearly. "It's cute."

"Not the adjective I'd use, but if it fits..." He laughs, shaking his head. Your word choices always enthrall him. Once you called him a midnight snack, a callback to previous times spent wrapped around one another. He doesn't mind it. Not particularly.

His fingers card through your hair to hold you firmly in place. "Sorry in advance."

"You don't mean that," you tease, and both of you know it's true. He likes seeing you choke on his cock. It's exhilarating.

You don't mind it. Not particularly.

[loopdile]

loopdile so real. i have a Vision of both siffrin and loop being Deeply Deeply Closeted Repressed Transfem and having gender envy over odile and i feel like that'd do Something to the Dynamic. Something......... Something........................... well i'm not successfully envisioning it but maybe YOU are?

i am positively plagued by loopdile gender visions!!! maybe not the exact same as you're thinking but i think you will enjoy them. walk with me, anon, through the garden of my loop gender headcanons. it's kind of a big garden but we'll get to the odile part eventually i promise.

Before they were Siffrin, Siffrin had their gender on lock: something transfem, but also tied to unique cultural elements in some way, either the specific identity or the way of thinking about it or just the particular set of presentation options. Perhaps they even started fantasy HRT! But then they forget everything, obviously, including their identity and transition plans. They decide pretty quickly that they're not a man, but none of the alternatives feel exactly correct either; if their previous identity was presented as an option, maybe it would click and they'd settle into it pretty fast, but unfortunately that is literally impossible.

So, no clear goals in mind. And because of his forgotten past, continued memory problems, and constant traveling, Siffrin starts to really value the few things he can count on to stay consistent. He'd rather wear his comfortable hat and cloak than leave them behind in favor of anything more gendered. He'd rather stick with his familiar body than risk changing it. Still, maybe there are some changes he'd be happier in the long run to have made... but the process would be stressful, and he's got enough stressful things to worry about already!

But then we get to Loop. Who has already been changed, suddenly and irrevocably and so very, very accidentally. They are not Siffrin anymore, they do not have the hat and cloak, they aren't even human. They don't even really remember who they were pre-loops. There is no familiarity for them to cling to; instead, they're desperate to find things they can control, things they can change, proof that the world moves forward and they're in charge of their place in it. The motivation that Siffrin lacked, Loop now has in spades!

However, their negative feelings are more intense as well. They struggle to face real stakes, to put effort into anything too complicated, to try anything that might disappoint them. They take risks, yes, but not about things they care about; they take risks because they don't care. And they have a lot of other things going on, too, both practically and psychologically, so gender isn't their immediate priority. "Who and what am I?" is a very difficult question for them right now on multiple levels, a difficult question with only difficult answers.

But, starting with the practical: wearing clothes is an easy way to look and feel a little bit more normal, right? So they experiment, and they decide that dresses are just similar enough to the cloak to be comfortable, but distinct enough to not be as emotionally fraught. And they like them in a frivolous way that Siffrin was never willing to lean all the way into. Siffrin didn't put much thought or energy into his appearance, but Loop's inhuman form is a constant issue, so they might as well dress it in a way they like! Something good to balance out the bad, since they can't be neutral any longer.

And of course they think about body craft, though in a different context from most people. Even the nearly-human parts of their body are lacking detail, without all the right functions behind the form, and then other parts aren't human at all. Their body feels wrong, distracting, constricting. They don't understand how it works, and it draws attention they don't want, and it's not them. And yet, isn't it? Even if they'd been put back into a Siffrin body again, they aren't Siffrin anymore, either. Loop is what the loops made them. They want to change their body, to make it something they can be comfortable in, but they can't. Because body craft is a method of changing flesh and blood and bone, and Loop is not made of such human stuff anymore.

So we've got Loop. Trying to find themself, and maybe succeeding in some ways, but stymied or uncertain in others. Desperate to change, but scared to hope. To make a long story short, they join back up with the party, which brings its own set of problems, and yet... it's also a step towards fixing some of their problems, too. Most relevant to our post, here: Odile is a craft expert with a unique set of experiences. She's got a wide foundation of knowledge, since she's familiar with all three main craft types. She used to be part of Ka Bue's underground body-crafting scene, where she not only crafted her own body but also helped and taught other people; and unlike in Vaugarde, where Houses provide resources and education, Odile and her peers had to do their own research and experiments, develop their own techniques. She even has some knowledge of wish craft from Siffrin, and the way she stopped Siffrin from looping proves that she's unusually good at analyzing and adapting to new forms of craft.

So once Loop's dissatisfaction with and ignorance regarding their own physical form comes to Odile's attention, of course she offers to help. To see if she can figure out what their body is made of, and how it works, and hopefully, in what ways it can be changed.

And this dynamic with her... it's totally different from her relationship with Siffrin, both pre-loops and post. And Loop has always admired her, and here she is, talking about the confidence and determination with which she changed her own body, not without fear or frustration but not letting herself be slowed down by them, either. Taking her fate into her own hands and refusing to be anyone other than herself. And Loop used to feel that Odile understood them best, and losing that connection felt like the end of the world, but here she is, still! Observant and caring as ever. Dedicated to figuring them out again. Unflinching as she sees them for the strange thing they currently are, but equally unshakable in her insistence that they do not have to stay exactly as they are.

So Odile helps them figure out their body. Helps them with the craft itself, too, but even more than that — through both encouragement and example, she helps them be brave enough to genuinely try. To ask themself what they really want. To strike a balance between Siffrin's complacent hesitation and Loop's miserable desperation. To experiment, and face both the chance of failure and the chance of success with head held high. To hope.

Odile is not one for platitudes and empty positivity, after all. If she says something's possible, then it is, or she will make it so, one way or another, despite any setback. Isn't she proof? She remade herself, and she can remake Loop, too. Changing them, slowly and carefully and so very, very deliberately. Loop will never be human again, but they can decide who they are and become themself.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for agreeing to be a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding even though I think she's making a huge mistake?

(Emojis so I recognize it 👰‍♀️💍🤵)

So my (24F) cousin Anna (21F) got engaged at the start of December. This was really surprising to me because the last time I saw her at Thanksgiving she was just starting to get back into dating via tinder after a couple bad breakups, and she wasn't actively seeing anyone yet. When I got home for Christmas break, my mother told me that Anna had gotten engaged to and moved in with her new boyfriend, Evan (~22/23M), an army guy she'd met three weeks before and that no one but her immediate family had even met yet.

Our family has always been pretty close, and this was concerning for a lot of reasons. 1) she literally just had a nasty breakup with her rebound boyfriend after a nasty breakup with her last long-term relationship, making this guy her 4th serious boyfriend this year, 2) she historically has very bad taste in men, every boyfriend she has ever had had treated her horribly and she ties her entire self-worth up into how her boyfriend sees her so she's literally never been single for more than a couple weeks since high school, 3) her older sister (28F) literally just left a 13 year abusive relationship with the guy who started grooming her when she was 15 and he was 28, 4) the groom is about to ship out for a 9 month deployment a month after their March wedding and military men are notorious for cheating or divorcing on long deployments, 5) she wants her dream wedding in March (giving us only 2 months to plan and fundraise), despite her parents already being in tight financial straits bc they started building a house right before unexpectedly needing to take in and help provide for their eldest daughter and her two kids and both my grandparents (who live with them) having sudden drops in their health to the point where my grandfather probably will pass in the next couple months and my grandmother could pass at any time (though tbf, were pretty sure no one has told Anna this since my grandparents don't want to scare her and her mom's in denial).

I also just really don't like the groom bc the one time I met him he made a ton of racist and homophobic jokes despite there being multiple black and queer family members present, but if that were the only thing I could probably bite my tongue since I don't think that's something that bothers her or anyone else in the family. I'm just really worried about her, since it seems like she's been going through something for a while and I know how hard this is on my whole family, especially my grandparents, since we all are really scared about what's going to happen to her if things go wrong and considering the circumstances, that's a good chance this will go wrong.

I want to make it clear, I do really want this to work out for her. She's head over heels in love and he seems to care about her too. I just don't expect it to go well and I've said as much to anyone who asked how I feel about it.

Here's where I could be the asshole: Anna's really having a hard time with the entire family telling her this is a bad and impulsive idea, feeling like everyone who has a problem with it isn't supporting her. She called and asked me to be a bridesmaid, specifically because "you've always looked out for and supported me even when no one else did, so I really want you to be my bridesmaid." I told her I would love to be there and support her however she wanted me to, and I fully intend to be the best bridesmaid I can be because I want this to be a happy memory for her and to take as much stress off her and her parents as possible. But now she thinks I support this marriage when I definitely don't and have been open about that with both our moms as well as her sister (the maid of honor), my SIL (also a bridesmaid), and my brother (a groomsman), all of whom are in the same boat.

So, am I the asshole for agreeing to be my cousin's bridesmaid while thinking she's making a big mistake?

What are these acronyms?

[kenphobia]

Ragatha dating someone who likes to draw hcs????

Please if you have the time 🙇‍♀️

2 AM SKETCHES！

summary. being an artist is difficult, but it's gets a bit easier when your muse is the love of your life.

characters. ragatha, pomni (separate)

contents. established or hinted romantic relationship (ragatha, pomni), fluff

› notes featured at the end.

› Ragatha is the kind of person who enjoys drawing as a way to relief stress, as well as watching someone draw.

› You guys have drawing sessions at times, doing random prompts or just drawing each other. Ragatha enjoys drawing you a lot, but that's because she gets to look at you for longer periods at time. There's something about your face involuntarily changing whenever you think of an expression that she finds cute.

› The first time you drew her, she was so happy that she may or may not let a couple of tears stain the piece. If you gave her the green light, she'd have it framed in her room right next to her own drawing of you.

› Hypes you up a lot!! Regardless if there's an actual reason to it or not. Whenever you feel insecure about your art or just feel like your latest artwork isn't just vibing with you well, she'll be there by your aide to reassure that it doesn't make you less of an artist.

› To add onto the previous bullet, Ragatha will not hesitate to throw punches (mostly metaphorical) at anyone who dares make you feel bad about your work.

› Another one who uses drawing as a way to relief stress! Just... A bit more morbid than Ragatha's.

› She doesn't have much to say about your drawings or your hobby in general. I mean, she thinks they're neat but she's never been the one to comment a lot on art or even spend time thinking and analyzing it.

› When you decided to draw her, Pomni couldn't help but be speechless. She didn't have a lot to say to your other drawings other than "That looks cool!", but you drawing her? Completely and positively flabbergasted.

› Like Ragatha, she has your drawings in her room. Not exactly framed and are mostly kept in a small clear folder, so it's safe and somewhere no one could ever get to. It's basically her treasure at this point.

› Unlike the rag doll though, she's too shy to ever ask to draw you or draw with you. She much prefers watching you do your work and just relax, rest even for the shortest moment. Something within her finds comfort at your process of covering up the blank white canvas with something, anything. She just thinks they're neat.

notes. i decided to add pomni onto the request because i like her too much to exclude her!! tysm for requesting, anon ^^

[maristelina]

Amane Voice Drama Really Bad Translation

Please take my really bad translation with a truckload of salt. It's super incomplete. I was having troubles understanding what's going on because of my current anemia and uh episode. I wanted to share this because I want to see how close I got later when more competent people translates the Voice Drama.

Amane: We were disappointed in MILGRAM's judgement. We thought it could be a new world. You're quite something, always looking down on others from above. I'm pretty sure I told you not to be conceited. On top of that, you say something incomprehensible like not forgiving us.

How dare you say that. But we are magnanimous. Let's set aside time for dialogue with the warden once again. After all, our history is one that has been made through dialogue.

Es: Get to the point quickly. What's wrong, Amane? Don't think I can just overlook your drastically changed attitude and move on. It's the result of my judgment that you've become like this. The way you talk. You're like a completely different person at the moment. Everyone who is unforgiven is under the mental stress of hearing voices blaming their own sins. Is your change also due to that influence?

Amane: The ridiculous voices? Ah, we did indeed hear it. But, that's not a big deal because we have steadfast teachings. We have clear and sublime faith. No matter what is said from the outside, we won't be shaken.

Es: Faith. You're talking about the religion you believe in.

Amane: The power that Milgram possesses seems to be true. Have you also taken a peek at our faith?

Es: It was quite an abstract expression(??), but I judged that your killing of people was due to religious beliefs.

Amane: It's not murder; I simply administered punishment according to the doctrine.

Es: So you're saying it's not a sin.

Amane: Is faith a sin?

Es: Faith itself is free, and while many are non-religious, I understand that there are those who are saved by religion.

Amane: Is that so? Are the unforgiven prisoners lost? They might also need our faith.

Es: I'd rather you refrain from proselytizing within Milgram

Amane: Faith is free. Faith exists for the sake of those who are lost.

Es: We've gotten off-topic. So, what exactly are you now? You keep saying 'we,' does that mean you're not Amane Momose?

Amane: I am Momose Amane and yet not Momose Amane. I am a spokesperson for our faith. You said you won't forgive us. I think there's a need for dialogue and warning because you made a wrong judgment, so I am speaking as 'we.'

Es: So, in essence, I am speaking with the concept of your religion itself right now. Is that what you're saying?

Amane: You can think of it that way if you like. So, let's issue the warning again. Warden. Milgram made the decision not to forgive us.

Es: Ah, yes, that's correct.

Amane: As I said earlier, our actions are actions of faith???, and they don't amount to sin. Therefore, Milgram is wrong. People are getting killed in the prison. I understand that I'm breaking the law.

Es: As I said before, there are things more important than the law. This is Milgram. Such arbitrary rules cannot be accepted as a standard. Therefore, I won't forgive. That's all. Faith in religion is also free. However, your so-called doctrine cannot become the standard for overall sin.

Amane: Isn't Milgram trying to establish new standards precisely because foolish laws can't properly guide this world? Are you still bound by the law?

As a mere warden I have no way of knowing Milgram's philosophy. It's not because love is against the law. Your killing of people is not forgiven by Milgram. I simply made that judgment. The orders are to deny your doctrine.

Amane: If you don't change your mind, we can never forgive you either.

Es: What do you mean "we"? You make me laugh. What you're doing is simply murder. Whether you talk about it as a whole or sing it like a noble ideal, it's murder. Momose Amane. The one who killed was not "you all," it was you. Don't divert your eyes from your own actions by playing games.

Amane: I have a duty for God!

Es: So? What are you gonna do about it? / What would you do if that's the case?

Amane: I will never forgive you! I will definitely never forgive you!

Es: I'm saying that attacking me is pointless.

Amane: I will never forgive you!

Es: Weren't you taught that those scissors you got from the supply should not be directed at people?

Amane: According to the doctrine, the guards' insults towards us are fully subject to penalties. We won't forgive.

Es: It's poitnless, you might as well give up.

Amane: I won't forgive you! I won't forgive you!

Es: Attacks from prisoners to guards are not possible. It's Milgram's principle, but a certain multiple personality individual slipped through this rule. In other words, Milgram's prisoner classification focuses on the mind rather than the body, so if the mind is separate, the rule doesn't apply. It seems like they're struggling with a flawed rule.

Amane: I'll kill you! I will fucking kill you!

Es: Thanks to that flawed rule, it has been proven this way. The fact that you're wielding scissors now doesn't make you a god or a concept. You're just Amane, plain and simple. Quite literally, what you're doing is just a pretend game. It's trivial. This is what you wanted with Milgram, isn't it? A direct showdown.

Amane: SILENCE!

Es: What's wrong? Have you indeed desired to be treated like a child? In my opinion, the fact that you are a child is closely related to this matter. No matter what you assert, no matter how much you try to act mature, you are a child. It's an unchangeable fact.

Amane: You're also a child!

Es: I'm 15 years old, so in Puerto Rico and Haiti, I'm considered an adult. You're 12 years old, so you're a child in any country. You look frustrated.

Amane: I'M NOT A CHILD

Es: Either way is fine. Why? In the first place, there are two main reasons why children are given reduced sentences by law: the potential for rehabilitation and the influence of their environment, I believe. In this case, it's mainly the latter. As I mentioned before, early childhood is heavily impacted by parental upbringing, and the effects of the rearing environment are substantial. Children born into households that practice religion, for instance, grow up recognizing it as a rule of the world.

Amane: What are you trying to say?

Es: It's about how they feel that the doctrines of what is commonly known as a religion are everything in the world.

Amane: You are arguing against the idea that being underdeveloped due to being of a young age.

Es: Certainly, the ego was fully developed. However, because this ego was nurtured in a specialized environment isolated from society, the argument remains among us whether this is your sin or rather the sin of your parents' environment. Here, we assess the potential for rehabilitation, as I mentioned earlier.

Amane: W-well, what do you mean by "among us"? Isn't it me? Aren't we from the same country? The warden and I understand five years' worth. As for me being special, it's just that my environment is unique, and everyone else's is ordinary. There are people who have actually gone there. I've been told things like you're being deceived, it's not too late even now, or you're mentally unstable. They still treat me like a child after all. It's because I'm a child that they think I've been brainwashed. But that's not the case. Even I, as a child, understand everything. Please don't label people as unhappy. I'm fortunate to have been born to my parents. It's challenging, and sometimes it gets tight, but I'm happy to live under pure teachings. That's the path I want to take. I see, you all think it's brainwashing, don't you?

From my perspective, you all are also being brainwashed by the religion of mainstream values. Why do you blindly believe in it just because there are many people following it?

Es: I understand

Amane: It's only natural that those of us who haven't been acknowledged by society due to our small numbers would see the potential for a new world in Milgram.

Es: Yes, I understand well. That's why your doctrines aren't acknowledged. Teachings that affirm life are not permitted by my standards. Huh.

Amane: That is correct.

Es: Our judgement, huh? I'll take another look at your feelings. Next time, if you feel something even deeper there, I intend to accept it properly. It's like a direct showdown, isn't it? That's right.

Amane: If, in the end, you deny and don't forgive me or us, then at that time, I won't forgive you. No, that's not it. I won't forgive you. Evading responsibility for your actions through pretend play is the next line. Thanks, it's not just you. It's all of you. I said I won't forgive you. It's a direct showdown. You're not allowed to keep your hands clean.

Es: What are you talking about?

Amane: I suppose so. The warden refers to themselves as "you all." If it's you, then it's you.

Are you experiencing a headache? Are you alright, warden? Please stand up on your own. That's a trial given by God. It's a trial of pain/sickness. Escaping from it is the greatest evil according to our teachings. One of the Eight Principles, isn't it? It's not allowed for anyone, no matter who they are. People do tend to act that way. Like a devil among prisoners, trying to steal trials from others.

Kirisaki Shidou, his actions who is cutting and tearing, violating our taboos. I issued a warning. If they continue, I might have to intervene. Is it perhaps already too late?

Es: Shut up.

Amane: Resorting to violence, how childish

Es: Silence. I am the one who makes the rules here.

Amane: What sets us apart from you?

Es: I told you to shut up didn't I? Listen to what I say.

Amane: If the world you create is attractive to me, or perhaps.

Es: Prisoner #8, Sing your sins!

[ofdinosanddais1]

Can we just clear something up about G Rose Blanchard? Can we just agree that she did not consent to being abused and exploited and that she's making the choice to share her story to raise awareness of this kind of abuse? Can we agree that she is not required to share her story past anything she has already consented to sharing?

I am glad she is being released in a few days after the torment she has gone through. I am glad that the prison she is in has helped her (as prisons SHOULD do). If she wants to become a tik tok star, then I think her story and experience could help a lot of people who went through what she went through.

But can we treat her like the person she is and not act like her release is the equivalent of the Taylor Swift eras tour? Regardless of whether or not I think she's a good person, the case is complex. I don't think killing is a good thing. I am firmly anti-death penalty but I also know that she, in her own lived experience, did not feel like she had many options. If she had access to another escape, I have no doubt she would have taken it. Could there have been other ways? Sure. But what happened is that she asked for help from her boyfriend in killing her mom. And she is now free from that abuse and, in four days, be free to heal in the outside world (albeit probably with restrictions due to her leaving prison)

I see a lot of people online saying stuff like "oh if she only wanted to escape, why did she stab her mom so much" which, she didn't stab her mom. Her boyfriend did which points to the vitriol in the attack coming from him. There's also people online saying "oh you can see the evil in her eyes" which is just bullshit. We don't know her. We know that she's getting released early due to good behavior. We know that abuse and PTSD can change your moral landscape. We know that her mom would force her to lie and she probably could have learned manipulation due to growing up in that environment. But we also just don't know her in general. She is not necessarily a good or bad person. She's someone who survived severe abuse and her life is going to be forever complicated by that.

But lets stop treating her like some mega celebrity. She's a survivor and she's going to get the opportunity to start showing everyone who she really is and it might be good, it might be bad. Surviving abuse isn't a pretty road full of inspirational quotes. It's ugly and exhausting and nauseating.

Let her grow into who she wants to be and remain neutral for her sake. She's probably going to mess up a lot in recovery and I think immediately idolizing her before she even stepped out of prison is probably very stressful amongst all of the overwhelming emotions she’s going to experience on the 28th.