#And like. I GET why that’s scary and painful as a thought especially given the general background radiation of being transmasc

[captain-lovelace]

Having thought about it for a couple of days I think the disproportionate degree of uproar about egg jokes being invasive or whatever seems overwhelmingly like a case of people interpreting trans women in the worst possible way

[mewguca]

Shame

this is a rather personal piece; it's primarily based on my own struggles

It probably could've been executed better (like having more of the interaction she's agonizing over), but I really wanted to focus on that visceral reaction of shame, guilt, and self-criticism

here's a long ramble I wrote while starting this ...

I realize, perhaps much of the reason certain depictions of moon trigger me so much is due to my own overwhelming shame and guilt. It's a defense mechanism crafted because I yet lack the strength to accept myself. I suppose that's why characters like Five Pebbles are so appealing to me — he is someone I've given the room to express his faults, his flaws, his hatred, his despair, his pain, and all his imperfections... For him to be mean or angry is natural and expected, so it's not as scary to express my negative feelings with him as the instrument. He's not a "good person", after all, so it's fine if he is "bad." His standards aren't as high.

Conversely, because I idealize LTTM so much and connect her to myself, I deny her the same things I deny myself. I do it without even thinking, really...

I've often thought, "but this sort of emotion doesn't really suit her... isn't this sort of projection too self-indulgent? If I made this, it'd be too obvious that my own emotions are bleeding through onto the canvas..."

So, I wonder if she's experienced that same sort of emotional repression. It'd be cathartic, in an unfortunate way. To see someone else struggle to grapple with such things, because they want to be pure and virtuous and not upset others...

It's harder when you spend so much time shaping that perfect, faultless, virtuous sort of image, especially when you do it reflexively. Unconsciously. You're making the pressure for yourself worse, but you can't stop... I'm actually not a very friendly person. I'm actually quite afraid and irritable, and I push people away when they get too close. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I don't want anyone to hate me... I don't want to cause suffering or strife. Sometimes, I wish I could just be a completely passive observer.

But I suppose I'm a human being instead, so I have to accept that. Thanks for reading, I guess. I'm not really looking for emotional support here... I just want to be understood.

[sorensolsikke]

i hate how people don't recognize me as a dragon.

like, they do see me as the dog i am!! at some point, every friend of mine tells me that i am the golden retriever friend!! everyone says my hair looks like cute ears!! they tell me "aww big puppy eyes" and "oooh biig stretch" without a second thought, without knowing my identity, and that's so validating, i love my friends and siblings!!! i am indeed a puppy for them!!

BUT FOR FUCK'S SAKE WHY DON'T I LOOK LIKE A DRAGON TOO?

i constantly question my self-knowledge by this; i think i know myself well enough, but nobody – except my girlfriend – seems to notice certain traits of mine that are the core of my identity. like i am sure i am unpredictable and unrestrianed when i am full of rage, or especially when i am protective of someone. i remember scaring the crap out of people who tried to hurt me or my loved ones when i seemed vulnerable at first glance, but oh i know my voice and claws and i don't fear pain. how can people still only see that i am patient and hard to make angry. they never believe me when i say i am scary and unstoppable when i get mad. and then they shit themselves when i finally do.

i demand being respected like a wild animal.

people also laugh at me when i say i am a good leader when i have to take that role. they know me to startle easily, being rather laid-back and quietly understanding than determined and in control of the situation. they don't even notice that these traits are compatible. they don't even seem to understand that i have been the oldest sibling at the hardest times, when our bare survival was at risk. i've always been, and always gonna be, the pack leader in every given critical situation, and will stand back after the problems are solved. (and i am also a verse/switch. if you know what i mean.)

i want to be recognized as strong and forceful, because i am.

people don't even understand that i am vain and full of pride. they genuienly think i am humble, even tho that's very, very far from me. i did learn how to say a genuine sorry and how to lose a competition. but i am almost pityfully proud, will collect compliments, will make sure to look perfect, always. let's just say, i don't despise flattery. and others still seem like they REFUSE to believe i have bad traits?!? other than, you know, autistically clumsy and sensitive??

i am a DRAGON for fucks SAKE, not a cutesy fucking RABBIT.

i am vain, i'm a horder, i am strong, determined, forceful, calculating, cagey, protective, and feral.

and i don't even get started on how i see myself dragon-like in the mirror, not just where my phantom limbs would be, but also. my canine teeth stand out a lot more than others, because they grew incorretly. my tongue is long (humanwise i mean), and i step on the first half of my feet. there is nothing humble in my posture. how can't they see how can't they how

...in fact there is someone who notices. my girlfriend has seen me as i am, from the very first minute. they didn't create an unrealistic idea of my delicacy. i adore them so much, they are the most insightful person i've ever known, and they still chose me. they are somehow the only one who understands my ferality, and somehow they are also the one who would do everything to stay with me. their existence does ease my rage of being misunderstood... but i can't escape the idea that i learnt masking so well that any controversial trait of mine became invisible. i am afraid that i became something like an animal in a zoo; acting domesticated, but in fact a ticking bomb.

i am a dragon. and i WANT people to notice finally.

[merlinmerlot]

We finally finished the fifth elephant.

I wish I could say after my 2nd reading I enjoyed this book, but unfortunately it's marred by painful pacing and deeply frustrating overtures to any of the actually good scenes.

Read more for my full thoughts:

Fifth Elephant is a book that struggles with its identity in a way I haven't seen in previous watch books, and it's made all the more maddening by the fact that out of the twenty million things the book tries, there is some stuff of substance! But you can never quite get a handle on any of them because the book is so damn busy!

I struggle to pinpoint a main theme in this book. Is it about fascism, the consequences of long distance communication, or gender and race in conservative society? The book doesn't doesn't stay with any of these concepts for long enough, which results in a muddy plot.

Is it about the past, the future, history, belief, traditions, what it means for things to stay the same and yet change, and what that means for truth? But that feels like well traveled ground, especially with Men At Arms and Feet of Clay, and honestly, this book doesn't sell this well enough to me, because while it’s Telling me these things, it's not actually Saying anything with them.

While Pratchett makes a point to give Klatch space to breathe, and make it a country on its terms (though, admittedly, he falls into orientalist tropes), Uberwald is plagued by Western exceptionalist writing choices. Why does Pratchett connect ideas of the future to Ankh Morpork (a proto-capitalist state), and imply that Uberwald must be forcefully pulled along with it? Why are there multiple scenes about how much the people of Uberwald hate living there, that they want to go to ‘modern’ Ankh Morpork, without really scrutinizing Why that is? Why is the fact that Ankh Morpork has become Such a global economic power not explored in a critical way, at least not thoroughly? (Especially since I Know Pratchett is capable of it. He did it with Jingo.)

I think the biggest crime this book does, though, is with its characterization of Vimes. I can't fathom the ‘why’, but for some reason Pratchett leans into the hyper-masculine noir traits of Vimes' character. They’ve always been there, but while the other books took a satirical spin to it, there's a certain romanticizing of it in this book. Vimes’ violent, ‘beastly’ nature is bad and Scary, but oh, isn't it Cool and Dark and Edgy too? Look how this strong, bloody man frightens the townsfolk, smokes a cigar while he shoots a man to save his poor wife. This is tolerable in bite sized portions, but in Fifth Elephant it's like sickening sweet. Why does Vimes kill a man in the streets, on purpose, (the first time he does that in the climax of these books!) and it's hardly addressed! (Yes, Wolfgang deserved it. But when So Much of Vimes' character is delegated to Not giving in to the Easy Choice, why is this decision not given the space it needs? Especially RIGHT after Jingo!)

There's just this strange sense of a focus on masculinity in this book that wasn't in any of the others. Like, why is it that in the Uberwald book, we spend more time with Carrot chasing Angua then with Angua herself? Why the hell is this not an Angua book? Why, in every scene where she has to confront her problems, whether that be her family or otherwise, must she be saved by a man? 

And all of this is a shame because there Are some scenes I really enjoy in this book! I love when we see Sybil and the wedding pictures, I love Vimes getting chased by werewolves. I find Inigo a really fun character, and I LOVE MARGOLOTTA. The parallels between the clacks towers and modern day communication, the little crumbs here and there of spy media tropes, the addiction metaphors, the werewolf family! But that's the kicker! We never spend enough time with Any idea! And none of it connects well enough together! Which is crazy, because Jingo and Feet of Clay were both such Cohesive stories. 

Regardless. I’m looking forward to The Truth because I really missed Ankh Morpork in this book. And Also Vetinari. (who, funnily enough, is hardly in this book. I guess he took up too much space in Jingo).

My final thoughts: Vimes should have had a daughter instead. 

[secretwhumplair]

Lessons

1,252 words | The black prince [WT] (sequel to Good morning)

Content | Exhaustion, power imbalance, feelings of inferiority/internalised classism I guess?, implied past noncon, mention of slavery

Notes | Elgar does not know how to stand up for himself :( But it's going to be okay, right?

Taglist | @echo-goes-aaa @whump-blog @scoundrelwithboba @whumpcreations @neverthelass

@whumplr-reader @vampiresprite @pleasestaywithmedarling

It was a long journey, just like Elgar had feared. What he hadn’t predicted was how much he swung back and forth from feeling almost comfortable around the prince, to perfect uncertainty once more. The stops along the road, where they would inevitably be put up somewhere far more fancy than he deserved, didn’t help. Nor did the new clothes he was given as they climbed into higher and colder terrain, soft furs that even he could tell were of great quality, and thick wool dyed many colours expertly woven into patterns too elaborate for someone like him.

It was disconcerting, and it was exhausting to be so worried all the time.

To make matters worse, it had been decided he should take lessons in the precious resting time. Not just what little help the royals could give him with the language—he would have a proper tutor for that, the princess reassured him, and that too was a scary thought—but etiquette lessons too. It was important he would know how to act by the time they reached the capital, the prince had explained, looking at him earnestly while his sister read off what he had written for Elgar, because Elgar still couldn’t read. It was important.

And worst of all, he was getting riding lessons.

The princess had asked him if he was ready to start within the week of them setting out from Akreh; clearly, she was the impatient type, and Elgar, of course, didn’t want to displease her, so there was only really one answer he could give.

And so, while the prince was sitting comfortably by, or even resting indoors, he was learning to ride.

It was a small comfort that the horse—Sparrow, he still hadn’t gotten used to thinking of her as his own—was so easygoing; she barely ever seemed willing to move if she could help it, so there was not much worry she would run away from under him.

But still, it hurt.

He was healing so slowly, what with the daily travelling, and now he had to ride more. In the evenings, he wanted nothing but fall into bed and maybe cry to himself a little, but he knew the prince would worry, and somehow, explaining himself to him seemed worse.

He was no longer worried the prince would be upset with him for daring to voice a wish, at least not all the time; some evenings, they huddled together in a hug before going to sleep hand in hand. And yet, he simply couldn’t bring himself to ask for this specific favour, for this specific reason. Maybe he worried that the prince would tell the princess about the hows and whys of it. Yes, that must be it. That, too, was silly, of course—what dignity did someone like him have to lose in the eyes of a royal?—but it made some sort of sense.

And then, the prince was exhausted too, Elgar could tell. After his first crying session, he was certain that all the smiles and happiness he was putting on all day, whenever anyone might see, was just show, and it must be draining, especially while he, too, was still recovering from what their master had put him through—far worse than Elgar, even if he now had been stitched back together better.

»You’re making great progress! Maybe tomorrow, we can try cantering.«

The princess’ cheerful voice called his attention away from his misery. She was smiling brightly, as if that was good news.

It was true he had been getting better at keeping his balance on the horse, and at giving her the correct signals on his own—it did start to feel like he was actually riding.

It helped that however slow it went, the pain was fading, with every night he remained untouched. Still, he did not look forward to riding harder tomorrow, but he nodded. »Thank you, your Highness.«

He no longer needed her help to get off the horse and lead her away from the field they had been practicing in to be untacked. That was something he wasn’t expected to do himself, anymore than the royals were, and it made him feel uneasy. He was being served. Two of the slaves travelling with them were looking after the horses, and one of them took her out of his hands with a smile.

He managed a mumbled »thank you,« or so he thought.

He no longer needed the princess’ help with this, but she had followed him anyway, and now her grin had returned. »And you’re making great progress with that as well. Bet once you can get under our tutor, you’ll learn the language in no time.«

»Thank you, your Highness.« He opted for the more comfortable Teeradian this time, knowing she would understand it. Then something about the phrasing caught in his brain. Their tutor? Surely not their, the royals’, tutor, why would they need an Ochurian tutor?

But then, who here could teach Ochurian to a Teeradian—but perhaps someone who could have taught Teeradian to an Ochurian, too?

What would a royal tutor expect from him? How could he possibly hold up?

It was the end of the day—they had squeezed the lesson in after dinner—and Elgar was glad to be able to withdraw, sore and exhausted and now freshly worried.

Well, withdraw from most. The prince was waiting for him in their bedroom, but that was alright. Sometimes, he almost felt a kind of companionship with him. Almost like a resurrection of the bond tied between them during their captivity.

The prince was sitting up by the window and reading inbetween the fading light of dusk, and a candle. He closed the book when he heard Elgar enter, and gave him a smile, and a questioning thumbs-up.

Elgar nodded hesitantly. »It’s getting better.«

He went to sit with the prince. The bedroom was cool, of course, but he was dressed for the temperatures, like he very much hadn’t been under their old master.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Elgar looked out the window, into the stripe of orange drawn across the western sky, trying to calm his mind, but then he blurted out, »Do you think your tutor… is going to be satisfied with me?«

The prince looked at him quizzically, and Elgar explained, »Your sister, her Highness, she mentioned—I’d be taught the language by your tutor?« It sounded silly as he said it. He must have misunderstood something. But then—he had been afforded every luxury, far more than he knew how to handle.

And the prince nodded earnestly, reaching out to hold his hand.

»I just, I—I don’t know if I’ll be as good at it as… they’d expect.« He felt a hotness creep into his cheeks, and he was glad for the low light.

The prince shook his head, smiling, pointed at his chest then made a cutting motion. Elgar couldn’t read his lips too well as he mouthed words, but between it all, he figured it out. I was not good at it.

He couldn’t help a chuckle, but the prince’s smile faded as he thought about his words, and he gave a small shrug, flicking his free hand, then pointing between the two of them.

They were in the same boat. The prince would have to learn a new language, as well, with his hands.

He nodded, squeezing the prince’s hand. »We’ll—we’ll do it.«

[risetherivermoon]

because i have a lot of headcanons to do with the kiddads given they are npcs that we dont tend to get much information on, especially in season 2, heres a shit load more! a lot of these are sad because these guys make me sad

- Sparrow starts wearing glasses in Middle School a little after they get back from Faerun, Terry Jr. starts wearing glasses when he gets to his 30's, and Grant started wearing glasses when he was in Elementary school

- When Nicholas starts to remember stuff from the Nick timeline, (basically 'becoming' Nicky if you will) scars he'd gotten from stuff in that timeline start showing up on his body, notably one is a burn scar on one of his hands from him spilling acid on it in s1 ep 34

- Lark has very scarred hands from when he was buried in the rubble in Neverwinter, though his mobility stayed relatively the same because of how quickly the wounds were healed, there was a lot of left behind scar tissue

- Sparrow has a scar across his mouth from when he was latched onto Boreanaz by his teeth when the pyramid fell

- Grant takes video games way too seriously and has in fact made his friends cry over it (Most specifically Sparrow and TJ)

- Terry didn't tell any of the other kiddads how he was going to die, just that he knew how

- Terry also knew Grant was going to be the one to kill him, but he never mentioned it, Grant was very confused on why all of a sudden TJ was becoming distant

- And he found out how he was going to die before he met Veronica, so when he met Scary he almost debated not marrying Veronica, not because he thought it would prevent his death but because he wanted to spare Scary of that pain

- Lark is incredibly confused like half the time (with basically anything) and to cover it up he usually acts stoic and tough

- Nicky is the type of person to do anything if someone phrases it like "bet you wont do *insert thing here*" no matter what it is

- Sparrow has a ton of tattoos that Nicky did for him

- Lark is colorblind but hasn't told anyone because he's too embarrassed to admit it

- For Grant and Marco's one year anniversary the kiddads all got them Titanic themed gifts, (Nicky got them sixteen dvd copies of the movie, they dont own a dvd player)

- Terry was Nicky's best man at his wedding, and Nicky was going to be Terry's best man but the betrayal happened before Terry even met Veronica,

- to add onto the angst none of the kiddads attended the wedding because it was after code purple and after they'd decided not to be involved in eachother's personal lives outside of D.A.D.D.I.E.S.

- to make this at least a little funny Veronica just doesn't think Terry has any friends-

- On the topic of weddings, Lark got so drunk at Sparrow's wedding that for his best man speech he just started reciting the Declaration of Independence (he opened the wrong tab on his phone and didnt notice)

- Grant has claustrophobia (from being inside the chimera)

- Lark used to be way better at pretending to be Sparrow but now he lacks too much spirit and gives up way too quickly for it to be convincing to most people

- Terry Jr. is extremely gullible and is usually the one Nicky would prank and trick the most just because literally everything works on him

- Nicky activated the sprinkler system at D.A.D.D.I.E.S. so much they took it out

- Terry used to talk to Jerry the Whale like he was his therapist

- Nicky would take a bunch of polaroids of the other kiddads all the time, he kept a photo album at his desk at D.A.D.D.I.E.S., it still sits there because none of the kiddads had the heart to clean it out

- Terry had beef with Darryl for a while as a teenager, for literally no reason (it was probably because he still had a lot of emotions and didn't no where to put them so he decided to just hate on his friend's dad)

[astra-galaxie]

🫂😬👻💝💔❤️‍🔥 for zara tien??? ‘w’

I hope that when I write season 6, I can do Zara and the team justice! I appreciate getting requests like this because they help me think about their characters in ways I wasn’t able to while playing Travel in Time!

(Nothing against the season itself, the gameplay just sucked, and I couldn't get into it like I could with the other seasons.)

That being said, please enjoy these headcanons for Zara!

🫂 A friendship headcanon

Zara will always have her friends’ backs, no matter how big or scary her opponent is. She never backs down from a fight, especially to protect someone she cares about. She has given people countless black eyes, cuts, bruises and even some broken bones. If you think you can get away with hurting one of Zara’s friends, then you better have a good hiding spot because Zara WILL get her revenge!

👻 A headcanon about what scares them

Zara is scared of being alone. Growing up, she didn’t have many people she could trust or rely on; for the most part, she raised herself. And while she likes having alone time, that doesn't mean she wants to be alone. That is why she tries to spend a lot of time with Theo and Kai. Even when they’re apart, Zara doesn't feel alone, but she still prefers having at least one of her boyfriends or a friend with her to fill the void she fears.

💝 A headcanon about their love language

Zara loves giving and receiving physical affection. Head pats, hugs, kisses, holding hands, and cuddling always make her feel loved. She grew up touch-starved, and while she didn’t realize how much it was hurting her since she had gone without it most of her life, Zara came to use touch as a way to show her love. And with Theo and Kai, she can give and get double the affection!

💔 An angsty headcanon

SOMBRA nearly successfully recruited Zara. She was 12 at the time of their defeat by the Bureau and had been targeted as a potential recruit during their final year of operation. She hadn't gotten far enough into the program to be experimented on, but she did participate in The Hunt alongside other recruits. She thought the things SOMBRA was promising were good and that she would help the world become a better palace, but after the Bureau freed her following The Hunt and she was placed into the Spring Angels Foundation, Zara realized how terrible SOMBRA was.

She’s yet to bring up her past with SOMBRA to her team, mainly because of Jack and Marina. She’s seen them look at her as if they should remember her, but Zara’s always deflected their questions. Maybe one day she’ll tell them the truth, but for now, that secret is best left in the shadows…

😬 A headcanon about the worst thing they’ve done

(I moved this one to relate it to the angsty headcanon.)

Having been recruited by SOMBRA, Zara did many things to prove her worth to them. Along with participating in The Hunt, she also committed minor crimes for them, like stealing. One such crime involved her breaking into a small shop to steal their money. SOMBRA had given Zara a gun to defend herself, but she was scared to use it. Given the late hour, she thought she wouldn’t need it, but she got caught while stuffing the money from the safe into her bag. In the ensuing panic, Zara shot the man who caught her, thankfully not killing him, but she did shoot him in his kneecap. Zara couldn't believe what she’d done and ran before the cops arrived, but the man’s screams of pain still haunt her.

❤️‍🔥 A romantic headcanon

Zara HATED when Theo and Kai were fighting over her. She loved both of them but had no idea how to tell them or if they would accept her feelings. But being stuck on a time machine gives you plenty of time to figure things out. In the end, Zara confesses to Theo and Kai, and in turn, the men are able to set aside their rivalry and replace it with love.

The downside to being stuck in a time machine is that you're stuck in a ship with your teammates, which leads to them being almost caught and caught in several intimate situations. But Zara, Theo, and Kai didn’t care if they got caught; as long as they were being caught together, it was fun, especially when Jack once walked in on them making out and left screaming that he needed to bleach his eyes.

There we go! Another ask down and on to the next one! Thank you for the request!

[ceejaytwoyoshi]

Okay, so I had no other place to talk about this other than like some reddit post I made on r/givemehope (which is a spinoff subreddit of hopeposting) and a few online friends, but I need to talk about this because I genuinely think it's such a disturbing trend

I've been seeing a lot of these like "antinatalist doomer pessimistic rant" videos occasionally pop up in my recommendation. The type of videos from people that are disillusioned from life. People who just see only the bad things in life (society, people, the economy), and nothing more, leading them to the conclusion that life is a cruel and meaningless joke. They also like to rant about this sort of topic in the driver's seat of their car. I don't know why it's a running trend in these videos, but that's besides the point.

To be completely fair, sometimes I have been deliberately looking for these videos, mostly just so I can really get a look at their POV and just to see the magnitude of how prevalent these videos are, and let's just say that it's so common that it's almost scary.

It's really saddening to see a sizeable amount of people who've basically given up on the world, and the only thing they can really do is rant about it without doing anything to make it better, while they coexist within their little echo chamber of misery. It's genuinely painful.

I want to shine a light on these sorts of videos because it really goes to show how dangerous these sorts of echo chambers can have, especially when it enables such pessimistic thoughts.

And hey, this can be a sign for anyone reading this to make your own vlogs talking about how beautiful life can be, because we need more people to remind us of that. We need more people to remind us that there is still hope left.

[tetsunabouquet]

Basic Instinct Chapter 16

A/N: Here, we will get to precious Reader-Chan's side of what happened after the incident from chapter 13. Usual warnings apply, especially the abuse related ones. Masterpost

You dreaded going home more then anything, and dreading would be an understatement, really. You knew your mother was going to give you hell, but the scary part is that you didn't knew what to expect. That was the thing of dealing with a parent with psychiatric issues: You could learn the triggers and patterns but in the end there would always be an unpredictable element in play. And that terrified you. You felt like a soldier unwillingly sent to war, whenever you went home knowing she was angry. You knew the general things to expect and how to navigate the situation; but reality would always be different from the safe, tried simulations of training. There was always a chance of everything getting even more worse and getting hurt. Your mother's anger tantrums were definitely crossing the borders of physical abuse as of late, and her spiralling into her own anger and despair left you fearing for yourself. It had all started when you were nine, her relapse; and she was only spiralling further the more time went on. Entire days where you were ignored and given the silent treatment, where you were left scavenging the household for snacks because she didn't wanted to make dinner, entire days of arguing and fighting. All you wanted was to have your mother back, but the version she loved drifted away from you, slowly with time, and the worst part was that the reasons why you adored your mother so fiercely were getting blurrier. As if you were forgetting your mom, the version of her that you loved. Her memory drowned with time, as you looked at a mother you sometimes barely could recognize. Like a weird, inverse dementia, which made the times you needed someone or were you could remember who she used to be, all the more painful. Your father had died before you were born, so you couldn't truly mourn him at all. As a child when the fights began, you had prayed for this to be a lie and for him to come save you. But he, or the countless of other times you prayed for basically anyone to save you, never came for you. Everyone always turnt their backs to what was happening, you weren't worth fighting for to them. 'But Sei is different then everyone else. Sei actually loves me.' You thought as tears filled your eyes. You were in front of your doorstep, and trying your best not to shake. You were close to throwing up. With a deep breath you opened the door, and with the tiniest babysteps you entered your home. You closed the door behind you as your mother appeared in the hallway. You were pretty certain the hairs in your neck were raising with fear. She had her usual calm but scary composure when she was in Bad mode. It was collected and cool, but her eyes and demeanor were radiating a rage that left you quivering with terror. Your mother didn't even need to shout at you, the psychotic anger in her eyes was intimidation enough. Not that this was her only method of intimidation. You swallowed. "Hi mom." You greeted in a small voice. "You don't need to use that baby talk," your mother hissed disapproving, and you tried to keep yourself from bursting to tears. Per usual, she wouldn't even be civilized enough to greet you back before hurling her angry remarks at you. and it hurt you deeply. The lack of even basic human courtesy was so upsetting, how normal it was for her to just be angry and angry whilst you tried to be nice only to receive her hate; it was so exhausting. Your lips were trembling and your eyes were pricking with tears. "I'm sorry it happened mama. I'm really sorry." You bowed your head towards her, tears spilling over your cheeks. "Go ahead and cry, you brat! I work my ass off to let you attend that expensive school and you repay me by acting like a complete dimwit!" Your mother's controlled but harsh words were like a whip and every remark left a wound on your heart. "I cannot help that he loves me and kissed me mama! You weren't even a virgin at my age!" The words left your mouth, even though you knew you shouldn't say them. But your mother's anger at the situation when she had been the troublemaker of her school and had switched various schools when she was a teen for that very reason, was just plain unfair and hypocritical. You always did your best to be a good kid, unlike she had, so why on earth were you the one vilified for your mistakes?! 'Besides, if she doesn't wants me to talk down on her and respect her then she should better be someone worth respecting and an actual mother. It's not like I'd even know if you didn't treated me as your bestie when you are in Good mode.' But your mother was seeing red, and she was stepping close to you, looming over you like a threat. You shrunk back against the door as she raised her hand in a threatening manner. "How dare you speak to me like that?!" You swallowed and looked at her feet, close to hyperventilating. Your every instinct screaming for you to run, you slowly maneuvered past her before bolting for the basement. As you locked the basement door, you could hear your mother's voice through the door; "I don't need to see your face again. You'd better stay there if I were you." You swallowed, and cried as you went to the makeshift bed you had there for moments like these. You continued crying as you fell down the dark memories of how she controlled you like a doll and your every tiny mistake was treated like a sin. You sent text messages to Seijuro, just ranting about the memories filling your head. You sobbed into the pillow, and it seemed endless. You had been so stressed out, you weren't even hungry after an hour or two passed. You were getting sleepy from all the emotion, and you allowed it to overtake you. 'Please, don't let me wake up... Unless it's Seijuro...'

[periru3]

I just watched Total Forgiveness and I have a thought...

Ok, so I know this show is messy as hell and is 4 years old so I'm sure all the opinions there are to have have already been said. There's a lot to be said about this show, but the one specific thing I personally want to say about this show is this is why planning ahead, anticipating situations that may arise, and coming up with specific rules for all of them is super important for any sort of game, especially if lots of money is on the line!

Like, do I think Ally should have been able to tell when they were going too far and choose not to out of both friendship to Grant and just common decency? Yes, absolutely I do. Just because something is neither dangerous nor illegal doesn't mean it's a thing you should ask another human to do, even if it could be funny. I furthermore think that other people working on the show could have stepped in and just given a quick "hey, man, too far" and that may have solved lots of things.

But the absolute #1 thing in my opinion that would have made this show less of a nightmare was just doing some basic thinking about what sort of dares should even be allowed. Cause while Ally's dares were generally more mean-spirited and humiliating than the ones Grant thought up (not to mention the flea market one, which was in a class of it's own in terms of lasting ramifications for Grant), I think an equally big problem was that they came up with dares where the outcomes were not actually 100% in Grant's control - Lock-In and Flea Market were both challenges where Grant's ability to finish the dare was ultimately up to other people, and Bell and Performance Art both required him to be able to make his body do something at will with an audience present, something that frankly isn't necessarily possibly through sheer force of will.

Grant, on the other hand, never gave Ally a single task where the completion of it relied on other people. He did give them several dares where the main difficulty was overcoming a mental barrier (Coffin, Snake, Tattoo), but with those, winning basically meant not panicking while something scary happened, whereas in Performance Art and Bell, Grant had to both overcome the automatic mental response ('don't poop,' and 'nothing about this is sexy' respectively) and also try to force his body to do something that is typically a more-or-less automatic function.

And yeah, Grant gives Ally a lot of leeway because they were just playing the game more ruthlessly than he was, and it was all fair within the structure of the game, but I'd argue that they should have had a rule from the get go saying all dares had to be something you were sure the other person could complete. There's definitely some gray area there - for instance, I think for instance I'd argue Performance Art is fair game under that rule but Bell isn't, but I know that's a super weird and subjective distinction (and I don't have a penis so I'm not an expert). I think based on the nature of the game, you have to sort of gloss over things like pain tolerance and mental distress as legitimate reasons to argue something is not necessarily completable or the game sort of falls apart. In those cases, I think it sort of needs to be up to the players' and the producers' common sense and decency to stop them from going too far. But the fact that Grant could try his best and that doesn't necessarily mean he's able to get a spontaneous erection, keep 6 people in a tiny apartment against their will for two days, or make $1000 at a flea market to me clearly means those challenges just shouldn't have been allowed.

Anyway, I think this show does a plenty good enough job highlighting the issue of student debt by showing the amount of humiliation, physical pain, and emotional distress people are willing to endure to alleviate just some of that debt - adding onto that that sometimes the things they're asked to aren't even necessarily possible, while accurate to the real world, sort of ruins the game.

[the-heart-of-a-monster]

ANOTHER REASON WHY I ADORE SONIC'S COLOUR PALETTE IN HIS WEREHOG FORM-

okok I REALLY wanna touch on when Sonic's demeanor does that complete 180 so I'll just skip right ahead to that lmao

(I fuccin loooooove your comic)

uhm

Well it's actually really obvious, just look at what I said last time ig??

It's not just the praise though, now that I think about it. Like you said, Sonic's just happy to be given the chance to eat, which the thought itself is pretty relatable lmao- But if you think about it, Sonic hasn't really had much to eat, at least from what us, as the readers, have seen. Obviously, he could've just had normal meals with his friends in the morning and afternoon like he normally would and you just skipped over it cuz we aint got time for dat shizzle!

(I would like to see a couple pages of that tbh, especially after all the LORE that our boyz have been put thru. NO PRESSURE THOUGH, it's your comic so you do what you want!)

Though I am lead to believe, based off of the very late nights that Sonic has been having for the past like 2-3 weeks or so, that this isn't the case. And the way that Tails and Sonic interacted earlier on in this issue makes me think that they didn't see each other at all that day. Sonic's Werehog form disappears once the sun has gone mostly above the horizon, aka probably like 8-9AM, and due to the painful transormation back to his regular form, the poor guy might wanna stay in bed a few more minutes. Meaning he's probably missed breakfast almost every friggin day.

Meaning he hasn't had a proper meal aside from the little offerings that people give him at like 2:55 AM.

Meaning he want soop.

By the way, there's something I noticed about Sonic's color palette! (I wrote "Colour" and it was automatically underlined with red. American English is so wack wtf??) When he immediately steps inside to take the food offering, with Shadow following close behind, Sonic's colors suddenly gain a much warmer tint to them, like his heart and mind is being replenished with warm feelings. The environment he's in has shifted completely to a much more homely and gentle environment, and so too did Sonic's colors. As the extrovert that he is, he's metaphorically sucked up everyone's good emotions and has channeled it through his vibe, and now instead of looking like a big scary monster, he just seems like a harmless little fluff-ball. Even his markings have dimmed to the point of being almost unnoticeable! (Not literally but you get my point)

Shadow's color palette, meanwhile, doesn't really seem to shift all that much until I think the last panel, but I'm pretty sure that's just me.

Also Shadow may or may not have deserved that spoon/soup slap for more reasons that just overworking himself-

IT'S COLOR THEORY BAYB!!!!!!! outside=cold inside=warm

[lunaprincipessa]

ENTRY 205

Part One (Continued on 206)

From January on, I've been in an emotional whirlwind as I've learned more about Peter Steele. I've been blogging about it lightly here on Tumblr.

First, the fun stuff.

❎ Entry 169 - Meme

❎ Entry 175 and 181 - Pics

❎ Entry 194 - Fan Art

❎ Entry 204 - Type O Eyeshadow

❎ Entry 208 - Meme

❎ Entry 214 - Intro w/ Singers

❎ Entry 222 - Introducing Myself to Both of Carnivore's Albums

❎ Entry 250 - October Rust Mentioned

❎ Entry 264 - Pete Loved His Fans

❎ Entry 307 - Gifs of Steele

Then, the others.

❎ Entry 74 - Learning for the first time about who he was as a person after research inspired by comments from fellow fans.

❎ Entry 170 - Experiencing the first death anniversary since having a better understanding of who he was as a person.

The fun stuff is pretty much just a vague, visual representation of my middle-aged self rediscovering Peter Steele, seeing him in a new light, and appreciating him in different ways than I did before. The others are a light walk through of what I started seeing and how I started reacting. There was so much I didn't know. And once I thought I got the jist of it, there was more.

Entry 74, I see comments on Instagram prior to deleting my profile, accusing his last gf of negligence. Seriously disturbed due to the shock of it from the lack of knowledge, I tried looking it up to see if it was true. Couldn't find any info on that but found lots of info on Peter himself.

This is when I found out Peter Steele was the full package. Men that have beautiful faces like that often accompany them with cruel tongues and empty minds. Not Peter.

Intelligent, wise, kind, and humble to name a few. The full package. Making him one of the most gorgeous men to ever exist. A rare find indeed. Combine that with his voice, talent, style, and presence, and you'll soon see why women everywhere would fall to their knees in love and lust for him.

Unfortunately, that full package came alongside an ample amount of heartbreak.

It bothered me to my core to think about a man like Peter suffering so much at the hands of any toxic women he may have given his heart to in the wake of everything.

I took temporary comfort in assuming he was surrounded by friends that would help lift him up if ever he was down, especially his band mates whom I heard he grew up with. I assumed, and life continued on as normal for a time.

The 14-year death anniversary rolls around and as I said in Entry 170, I'm feeling it more than ever before because now, I have a better understanding of who died, making his loss that much more deeper and tragic.

Not only was a kind heart lost, but a pure soul that suffered greatly, making the pain of the anniversary rival even the death itself.

You see, I'm heavily reliant on what I hear, read, and watch because of the obvious fact that I didn't know Peter Steele personally and I wasn't there when certain things were taking place.

I learned more about him and started to favor him above all other singers, including Trent Reznor who I've worshipped since the teen days. I started looking up more pics and performances (eventually inspiring a blog consisting of nothing but pictures of Peter, telling myself to stop lol).

All bittersweet and intriguing but then, a recent article and an older vid that I ended up coming across paved the way for that dreadful feeling at the beginning of the year to return.

This is why I said earlier that I took "temporary comfort." But at that time, I didn't know it was temporary and I didn't know what else was about to cross my path.

My heart broke for him all over again. I'm suddenly reminded of those scary pictures circulating on Facebook with a caption that reads, "the longer you stare at it, the worse it gets."

I'll start with the article, which was released on May 6th of this year (2024), featuring an interview with Sal Abruscato, Type O Negative's original drummer. Word for word, this is what he said and mind you, I'm reading this for the first time while still learning about Peter.

"He was a good guy. He was a sweet guy. He had a good heart. At the end of the day, he had a good heart, but he was also very vulnerable. He was vulnerable. He knew deep down inside becoming successful was gonna be his demise, because I'll tell you, one thing I did see from being on the outside of Type O Negative, watching the deterioration that happened over the years, people used him. He was a nice guy, he was generous, they fucking used him. And everybody was using him, even his own band members were using him, because he was a workhorse. And everybody tried the best they could. He had a very bad problem, and I know everybody tried the best they could, but it was too little too late."

That wasn't easy to read. Neither was the next part. 💔

"I remember talking to him literally two weeks before he passed, and he told me that all he had left was $3,500 bucks to his name. So he died basically in Pennsylvania alone, in a way. Yeah, he had his girlfriend, yeah, whatever, but all the way out there. Everybody dissipated when the drugs were over, 'cause he had to be sober and clean. He was clean for nine months when he died. And when he told me that, it was like... And he told me people that I'll never name. He told me that he lent money to people, that people never paid him back because he had a good heart. Friends took advantage of him. And it's a shame that it ended like that for him. Had he maybe went to the doctor's on a regular basis too, maybe he could have... But again, the damage was done. But that was the side of Pete was that he was a good guy and a prophetic artist, a prophetic lyricist. Had a vision that went three steps ahead of everyone else. A brilliant guy, very smart, very smart guy in a lot of different ways. Not like 'doctor book smart,' but smart in other ways, artistically and the way he saw things. He was very intelligent."

Vulnerability; pain and love can do that to a person. The thought of this gentle giant who was generous and a hard worker being surrounded by snakes literally makes my stomach turn. "They used him," it said.

"Deterioration that happened over the years," oh my heart. Is that part of the reason why he deteriorated? Were people just taking pieces of him until there was nothing left to take? I despise the thought of the people he was counting on attempting to drain him. Imagine if his millions of fans knew he was being hurt. There would've been an unholy uprising. His fans love him.

I want to ask if Peter Steele would've been around the right people, would success still have been his demise? If he was surrounded by protectors and healers, would the outcome have been the same? I said it in my 74th blog about Peter when I first started learning about him. Men like this, regardless of how big and tall and strong they are, need to be protected. Their bodies are hard but their hearts are fragile.

The creator of something timeless, original, and legendary had $3,500.00 left to his name. Simply criminal after everything Peter had created throughout the course of his career. I was wondering about his income though. I saw a brief home vid of him and one of his cats and I couldn't help but notice his surroundings. It wasn't what I assumed. It just didn't look like a place where an accomplished and famous singer and musician should be living. I was unknowingly soon to get detail on that.

I saw another quick vid of him talking about building a nice, big house in a beautiful wooded area a while back. I looked it up given the home vid I just saw, "that can't be the place he wanted to build." Come to find out he lived in a duplex before he died and that $3,500 would not have afforded the house he wanted to build.

I saw it when I googled where he lived before passing. I thought the entire house was his at first sight and then my jaw dropped to the floor when I read that he lived "on the right side." Peter deserved a monstrous Victorian mansion with beautiful gothic interior, with millions more in the bank to build and decorate with. Criminal and unfair to say the very least.

Aside from this article, I read that Peter was a little awkward growing up, as was I. You grow up knowing friends are often hard to come by. It probably felt good to him in adulthood to be around people and to form connections and to do good things for them, but some of those people were the wrong ones to be that kind of person with.

I can't imagine how disappointed and heartbroken he must've felt finding out many of those people were merely around for drugs and money. Just more loss and abandonment for a good heart and a pure soul. He deserved better.

Sal called him a "prophetic lyricist." Prophetic! In considering the meaning of that word, it makes the lyrics, "life is killing me" gut-wrenchingly sad.

"The way he saw things," that statement was regarding his creativity and intelligence but how did he see his life? How dark were things for him? And the million dollar question, was Peter Steele safe anywhere?

Sal said even his band mates took advantage of him. I wondered about the dynamic between them and Sal. I also wondered if perhaps that's why his last gf didn't want them talking to him before he passed. Although, I did continue to wonder if people were still accusing her of neglecting Peter. There's a lot to wonder and there's a lot of angles to wonder from too.

Wonder, wondered, wondering; it's all speculation. I wasn't there. Lots of questions are gonna accompany me to my grave, unanswered, and I better make my peace with that asap but it's hard. Not like it would change anything, but I still want to know what happened to this man and who was around him.

Who truly had his best interest at heart? Anybody? That's something else I may wonder forever. Who was fighting for him? Who was fighting for his health? Who was fighting for his life?

The whole process did leave me a little suspicious that perhaps nearly everyone around him dropped the ball at some point, in some form or fashion, maybe even when he needed them the most.

People obviously wanted things from him, but who wanted him? Who wanted him to be well? Who cared for him outside of the celebrity? Who cared for him as Peter and not the singer of Type O Negative?

I mentioned the older vid alongside the article I just responded to, but I think I'm gonna break this up into two parts because this already turned out to be quite lengthy.

All in all, his story is weighing on me and I cannot believe that I've loved his music for so long but never knew any of this, and I mean any of it. I just never knew.

And finding this out for the first time makes me wish in such a childish way that either I, or the army of his fans could just somehow go back in time and scoop him up, getting him to safety but as Sal said, "too little too late." He's gone. Still here through music and memory but physically gone, and we can never get him back to fix things for him.

He would be 62 years old if he were alive today. And if he were, I would hope he would have everything his heart could ever desire, especially true love, reverence, happiness, and inner peace.

Eating healthy and staying sober to keep himself going, maybe even a solo project so he could call the shots and have a schedule he's comfortable with. He could hire people that respect him, that will listen to him.

He might've even started a family with a good woman who loves him outside of the celebrity and will take good care of him and his children. That's what I would've advocated for, but who knows.

We can all daydream on what might have been out of desperation for comfort and solace. Comfort and solace from a grueling reality that none of us can change no matter how badly we miss him.

If it was that hard to read about, I couldn't imagine what it was like to go through.

For what it's worth, I'm so sorry Peter. RIP

Part Two and more thoughts later.

[nariism]

I am not okay after that S** fic HOLY SHIT I literally curled up into a ball while reading it and trying not to bawl

"He's gotten meaner over the years. He was always a rude little kid, but being pushed around in football must have given him thicker skin and a sharper tongue. You've never known him to be a saint of a human, someone who speaks so eloquently in their descriptions. But here he is now, defying your every expectation like he always does. He tells you what colour your hair is. Compares the shape of your head to a fruit you can't recall an image of. Gives you a detailed explanation of all your flaws and marks and why he thinks they're so perfect because it proves that you were indeed alive and human at some point. "You're beautiful," he concludes casually, as if he's not turning the entire world on its head right now."

(massive extract yes) THIS PART WAS SO AOBAOUDBOASBDASLODNLSAKDN THAT'S SO ADORABLE?? I'M SCREAMING "YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL" HITS DIFFERENT AFTER THAT PARAGRAPH OF HIM DESCRIBING READER

HIM MISSING HIS DATE FOR THEM TOO OH MY FUCKING GOD

It's even cuter since reader thought they look scary bc everyone left ╥﹏╥

"Sae puts his phone down at your confusion. "Should I give you a birthday if you're going to grow up?" You don't know what a birthday is. When he tries to explain it, you're even more perplexed. Ghosts don't have birthdays. They have... deathdays. He puts a cake in front of you anyways and lets you blow out the candles."

THE WHOLE BIRTHDAY SCENE AND HIM NOTICING LONGER HAIR MADE ME WANNA SOB (in a good way) I have a massive soft spot for birthday scenes (especially when it's for characters without one or if they've never celebrated properly)

"There isn't a note. There isn't an explanation anywhere to be found. There isn't even a trace of evidence that Itoshi Sae ever lived here."

I also wanted to sob here (not very happily this time) S** YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU SHOULD'VE LEFT SOMETHING- The eggs and rice tho :(( the fact that he cared was obvious (THE BIRTHDAY CAKE TOO AOINAIOEDN) but it would've been so painful to be in reader's position + the guilt would've killed me if I were him

""Do you want one?" He asks. You look at him in a strange way and his knees grow weak beneath him. You nod. He comes out five minutes later with a few packs in his hand, walking away from you down the street to the park. You follow him quietly as if 7 years of distance never existed between you. Sae holds one out, flicks the lighter in his pocket open and ignites the first sparkler. You watch it in fascination, ghostly form illuminated in warm orange and yellow light."

THE SPARKLER SCENE WAS MY FAVOURITE !! Reader wanting them despite not being able to read the poster was adorable 😭 The repetition of "as if 7 years of distance never existed between you" really accentuates their bond and I absolutely love it

My heart is still aching after reading (ಥ﹏ಥ) (not a complaint tho). Something about the afterlife hurts (like reader never being able to know what they look like with their own eyes, or not being able to understand who they were when they were alive)

This is definitely my favourite S** fic (and favourite out of all your fics) it's adorable and beauteous, yet so gut wrenching at the same time, 11/10, well done Soph !! <3

soutaaaaaa 😭😭😭 whenever i see you in my inbox going absolutely ham about one of my fics i prepare the tissues and get curled up into my blanket in bed bc i just know i'm going to be sobbing happy tears by the end. you're such a sweetheart and your kind words are genuinely one of the reasons i haven't felt burnt out writing in the last while 🥹🥹💗💗💗💗

i'm such a sucker for afterlife/haunting fics and i kinda wanted to try this style of writing in tiny drabbles and it just fit. i'm ALSO a sucker for the bday trope heudhwudhdh😭💗💗 its just so adorable and i feel like i always want my loved ones to feel special on their birthday and it just makes me so happy imagining sae to be the same way even though he's a hardass 🫶🫶

UGHGGHHHGHG IM SCREENSHOTTING THIS ALL AND SAVING IT FOREVER YOU'RE SO SWEET AND YOU TAKE SO MUCH OF YOUR OWN TIME TO REALLY GO THROUGH THE FINER DETAILS AND IT MAKES ME FEEL SO APPRECIATED AND SEEN AND YUHFHFUFHRIBFEKFBICNF. COME HERE SOUTA IM GONNA. IM GONNA GIVE YOU ALL THE BAKED GOODS. ALL THE CANDY. IM GONNA HUG YOU.

🫶🫶🫶🫶

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

I was wondering what the Tenbusches favourite comfort things are? Do they have favourites foods/movies they need when they’re sick?

It was so strange to receive this when I did, because literally that exact day I was starting to ponder this very question myself in preparation for the upcoming Tenbusch fic. Anon, I think you must be a mindreader lol.

That being said, I really hadn't given this too much thought when you sent this, which is why I took so long to answer. But here is my first go-round with this question after much consideration. I included what they wear, what they eat, what they watch/listen to and other general caregiving things they like when they're sick. Obviously this list will expand as I get to know these characters more over time. In reverse age order this time, since I always make Thad go first lol. (He would say he doesn't mind, though. He's the oldest and used to being the guinea pig).

Answers got long as always, so under the cut they go:

Padma: When she's sick, more often than not it's her nose that gives her the most trouble, and she usually can't go anywhere without tissues in her pocket or in her hand. Her upper lip and septum get chapped and raw quickly, so she experiments with different salves all the time to try to alleviate this. She will immediately gravitate toward her most fluffy robe and slippers as soon as he starts to feel poorly. She also never skimps on things like tissues and medicine when she's sick, only buying the best/nicest/name brand things, wanting to be as comfortable as possible. Her biggest sick day necessity, though, is the kinds of tea she drank growing up in India. American teas would never do for her. As far as movies and things, she isn't really a sick-day TV person, since her eyes are usually achy and puffy from the congestion. She prefers podcasts and audiobooks if anything, but usually she'll just listen to music if she's bored, and again, it will usually be music from her homeland. She is the least needy and most self-sufficient when she's sick, and won't ask much from any caregiver, but she loves having company when she's not feeling well, just someone to sit and talk with her and reassure her that she's not as disgusting as she feels.

Thalia: Prone to migraines as a rule, Thalia can be guaranteed to have a throbbing head whenever she comes down with anything, and this headache usually turns into a migraine sooner or later, so all her sick day rituals center around easing head pain. She keeps lights off and rooms cool and generally stays away from loud noises and strong smells. She's not usually a tactile person, but she desperately craves to be held when she's under the weather, wants to be squeezed and wrapped up tight. If there's no one around to hold her, she'll burrito herself in a weighted blanket instead, needing the pressure sensation. A 90's kid through and through, she loves Disney movies, and these are what she gravitates to when she's sick in bed if her headache allows her to watch TV. She especially loves the ones featuring animals like the Jun/gle Boo/k and 10/1 Dal/mations. However, she swears by audiobooks as the best sick day binge. Even though she knows real orange juice is healthier, she craves the drink Sunny D as her sick day comfort, and tends to subconsciously follow the BRAT (banana, rice, applesauce, toast) diet whenever she's sick, even if it isn't stomach-related sickness, since her parents swore by this diet for all childhood illnesses, and because her migraines often make her nauseous. As far as sick-day attire, she is the proud owner of multiple Snuggies and will wear one of them with fleece-lined leggings for the duration of any illness.

Audra: She is the True Crime junkie of the lot, and this is especially obvious when she's sick. When asked about it once, she said that when her life sucks she likes to watch scary, brutal things to remind her that life could suck a whole lot more. Cri/minal Min/ds is her go-to since she owns the whole series on DVD, but if she's bored of those she'll happily try any of the numerous true crime/serial killer specials that are streaming, or if here eyes hurt too much for TV, she'll listen to true crime podcasts. When she feels like death warmed over, you can almost guarantee she'll be watching or listening to stuff about death. For attire, she will wear her husband's clothes almost exclusively when she's under the weather, and her brother-in-laws' too, when she can get her hands on them. (She's especially fond of Thad's. He is roughly the same height as her, but more muscular, so his clothes are always soft and loose on her.) When she's sick, she goes into sloth mode and doesn't want to move or even stand unless she absolutely has to, so she'll be found lying down the entire time she's feeling poorly. She will cuddle up gladly against anyone who sits near her, though. As far as food and drink, anything warm is what she wants, since nothing bothers her more when she's sick than her throat being sore. Hot tea, hot coffee, hot soup, hot pasta (in temperature as well as spice usually) are her go-tos, but she'll throw in ice cream and popsicles to mix it up if hot things aren't helping her throat for whatever reason.

Theo: As we all know, he is very familiar with being sick, so he has his sick day routine down to a science. Firstly, he always has his trusty water bottle by his side and is always drinking from that or a thermos of tea, because he knows from experience that he'll feel much worse if he gets dehydrated. Secondly, he will immediately don his robe, fleece-lined flannel, and not take it off until he's feeling better. In the midst of his illnesses, if he's not in bed he can usually be found either curled up next to a heat source, or else sitting by a window in the sunlight like a cat. When he's sick, more than anything he wants to be warm, and he firmly believes in the restorative effects of sunlight. Theo's favorite food in the world is pancakes, so when he's especially under the weather, his family will usually make these to cheer him up and help him feel better. He's also a connoisseur of grilled cheese and tomato soup as we've seen, and he has strong opinions about this meal, so his sanctioned brands and ingredients are always stocked in the pantry. As far as media, the romantic and tender-hearted Theo has a huge soft spot for musicals. The rest of his family thinks they're sappy and silly, so they only agree to watch them with him when he's feeling crummy, and he takes full advantage of this. Strangely enough, Christmas-themed musicals are his favorite, so Holiday Inn, Scrooge, and White Christmas are always on rotation, but he also loves to watch Singin' in the Rain, knowing Gene Kelly was ghastly ill when singing the titular song, and in a pinch really any musical will do, as he's seen most of them. Even if he's too sick to actively watch TV, he likes to turn on musicals anyway, because you don't have to watch to understand what's going on usually. But if he's just listening to music, then 90's easy listening is his comfort media.

Thad: That doesn't get sick often, but when he does it hits him fast and hard, and he tends to spike dramatically high fevers when he's sick with anything. His symptoms tend to be very explosive in general, from ear-shattering coughing and sneezing to... anything else. (For this reason and others, Thad is the LAST person that anyone would want to catch a stomach bug.) His preferred seating is beanbag chairs (because they're easiest on his back, which gives him trouble after years of playing contact sports) and there are several scattered around the house, so as soon as he starts feeling poorly he will curl up in one of these and not move until he's better, sleeping and eating there as much as he possibly can. Thad is by far the crabbiest of the family when he's sick, and until he's recovered he actively pushes everyone away except for his partner, from whom he seeks a little extra attention. JB learns over time that Thad does best if he's given a steady supply of gentle attentiveness when he's sick, just being checked on and fussed over in regular, measured doses. Thad has a collection of "I'm not feeling well" cardigans that he likes to wear, and interestingly he'll usually be found in knitted caps as well if he has to leave his nest, especially when his hair starts thinning as he ages. Thad loves peanut butter sandwiches of any kind (with honey, with bananas, with jelly) when he's not feeling well, along with, strangely enough, pickles and frozen pickle juice pops. If he wants hot food, he'll gravitate toward childhood favorites like Spaghetti-O's and cheap, prepackaged Ramen Noodles. He doesn't quit his coffee habit when sick, insisting it's one of the only things that helps him feel better (since he hates tea) but he does keel it back a good deal. He'll even drink decaf if a bad fever has his heart rate up, just as long as he can have the taste and warmth. A self-professed audiophile, Thad listens to a lot of music, and this is especially true when he's sick. Whether it's through his fancy, expensive headphones or fancy, expensive stereo, or fancy, expensive turntable, he always has something playing. He says being feverish actually heightens the experience of listening to music (though it can give him very strange dreams), so he'll often use sick days as a chance to explore artists he hasn't heard yet. He avoids TV as a rule whether he's sick or not, and if he's in a room where one is playing, he insists that someone else picks something he'll find boring so he can fall asleep.

JB: With his huge lung capacity, JB gets the most awful cough with any sort of respiratory ailment, worse even than Theo, loud and harsh and huge and frequent, so easing the coughing is always his biggest goal of any sickness, especially as he gets more prone to bronchitis as he ages. The coughing also tends to make his ribs and chest and abdomen miserably sore, which never fails to radiate out to his extremities, so he's an achy mess whenever he's sick. For this reason, Vick's is always in good supply in their home, as well as IcyHot, Bengay, and all the others, not to mention plenty of heating pads and heated blankets. More than anything, when he's sick he gets utterly exhausted and just wants to sleep. He'll sleep 2/3 or 3/4 of the day if he's able, like a bear in hibernation. Since he's so exhausted, he has minimal appetite whenever he's sick, so food is generally the last thing on his mind. However, he has a special fondness for hot cereals, like Cream of Wheat and oatmeal, with plenty of sugar and cream, and loves fruit juice, so he'll have these as a splurge when he's sick, since he considers them too unhealthy to have under normal circumstances. Because he's so tall and broad (6'5", 250 lbs), for most of his adult life, finding clothes that would be "loose" on him isn't easy without special ordering everything. For that reason, his comfort clothes/sick day attire is mostly comprised of close-fitting thermal wear (think Under Armour, etc) and the occasional pair of fleece or flannel pajama pants. He and Thalia are much alike in that they aren't overly tactile as a rule, but when sick, they love their partner's arms around them and being held close. Eventually, JB also comes to crave a deep massage to help his aches when he's feeling poorly, and Thad takes pride in mastering the technique of massage over time.

Anon, thank you for sending this ask and forcing me to consider this question and write out the answer. It was a lovely exercise and every time I get one of these I feel like I know the characters so much better after! All the best to you, and feel free to send more questions if you have them. The next Tenbusch fic is almost finished and should be out in a few more weeks :) Can't wait to hear your thoughts!

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

So if the answer is behind door number 2 and some evil scientist really did find them after they came through, it'd probably make the most sense if they came through unfrenzied but disoriented enough that they were captured fairly easily, and then had something horrible inflicted upon them, which triggered a frenzy, right? Or would a frenzy like that come only from rift distortion fuckery, and they came through frenzied but someone managed to tranq them. In the first case a spontaneous frenzy might help them bust out right after if happened, but if they're already frenzied it might make it harder for anyone to actually do anything to them.

I feel like that might make things too convoluted though. Them being dropped off near or in Nimbasa but accidentally being frenzied from passing through the rift seems like it'd work best. The question then would be, why were they fused when they came through. Easiest answer would probably be they were in one of the distortion bubbles when something went horribly wrong and they ended up being taken back along with all the other displaced pokemon. Second easiest might be that Ingo was given the chance to go back home, and Lady Sneasler wanted to come too because that's Her Guy, but the rules were that only one could come. And she's like, well luckily we have a solution for that! And they go through together and have the bad luck of it affecting her badly.

Poor Emmet is really going to have his work cut out for him here, though. First he's gotta figure out what this thing is, then he's gotta realize it's his brother (both of which he'll only be able to do once Clamberclaw is calm enough for Ingo to take the reigns), then he's gotta... take him home? Take him to a pokemon center? But to do that first he's gotta actually get them out of the train where they've only just calmed down because it's safe and familiar, then he's gotta get them out of the crowded subway station without Clamberclaw freaking out again or anyone getting too good of a look at them (especially if he's paranoid that some evil scientists might be out looking for their escaped experiment), then he's gotta do the same but in a crowded city this time until he gets them to wherever he's taking them. (Then he gets to have his breakdown once they're safe and asleep lol)

And that's too say nothing about his emotional journey here. Like, yay his brother is back and alive, oh no he's this bizarre creature now, oh shit what if he had been taken and was being experimented on this whole time, oh God how is he gonna get them out of here, yay his brother is back in a safe place where Emmet can watch over him, yay apparently this is a reversible thing and he's not actually fused together with this pokemon forever, oh no he's not going to separate anytime soon because he needs to make sure Lady Sneasler isn't gonna go on another rampage and also this is new and scary for both of them and it's comforting to not be alone in it, oh shit apparently Ingo doesn't remember anything of his life here including Emmet. He's gonna have a hell of a time of it.

Meanwhile, Clamberclaw is super tired and in pain, but actually doing sort of okay otherwise. Because even if Ingo doesn't actually remember him, Emmet is like, the person he trusts absolutely to keep him safe in his vulnerable state. Which is a lot to put in Emmet's shoulders! But they're not really in a position to be making any big decisions on their own in their state. In this they're just going to have to put their trust in Emmet.

oof the idea that they went as a fusion to game a "one person only" rule... it brings to mind, like, people outsmarting a god in a game of wits and so it gives them a horrible and dramatically-ironic curse as divine retribution. oh you think you're so smart, figuring out how to bring a friend with you? we'll see how much your smarts help when i inflict you with DIVINE MADNESS

(not that arceus/giratina necessarily did this on purpose, but)

the other thought i had as to why they'd be fused at all is that sneasler was about to kill ingo in the middle of a rampage and it was the only thing he could think to do to escape. like she had him pinned so there was no running, the only option he had was to reach back out and fuse bc now she can't attack him anymore, can she? and now they're staying together for the same reasons as before, bc sneasler's holding on in the frenzy and/or ingo doesn't want anyone else hurt, etc.

probably the easiest way to get them out safely is to either take the train, or just walk down the tunnels to a further-away, less-populated station, and then go around the long way to wherever their house is, avoiding the most densely populated areas of the city. (this also means clamberclaw gets to ride the train which they'll probably enjoy <3) however there's also the fact that they might have quickly evacuated some areas when clamberclaw was rampaging through them, which could open up paths too

&then yeah, emmet... :c he's gonna try so hard to stay calm where they can see, bc they really desperately need that and if they think they're in danger there's the very material side effect of potentially reactivating Panic Mode and causing a bunch more destruction/having them go running off into the city again. but that doesn't mean he isn't on a fucking rollercoaster here. his brother's alive! and doesn't remember him! and has possibly been trapped in an experiment-torture-hell for who knows how long! and is stuck together with some mystery pokemon! and that duo has been pushed to their limit and is now in dire need of rest if not medical attention. once he doesn't have the anchor of "ignore everything else we need to make sure ingo's safe and okay" he's gonna lose it

[thessalian]

Thess vs All Manner of Food

Welp. Now both parentals have been able to see a Particularly Bad Pain Day (tm). Welcome to why I hate my mother’s insistence on reserving tables in restaurants.

See, between Sunday’s grocery shenanigans and yesterday’s “I have to take out a lot of trash and recycling because I haven’t been able to get to the bins in over a week because icy conditions”, today was ... not great? I knew it was going to be “not great” going in, but at least I didn’t have to commute. Much. Issue being, Mum had arranged for us to go out to dinner today because we missed out on it before she headed for North America, and she booked a table. It’s one thing to say “Can we skip tonight? I hurt” when there’s not a reservation, but another to say “I know you booked a table but can we skip tonight? I hurt”. One’s just ... easier than the other. But I had to give my mother her birthday gift anyway, so off I went. The fact that she brought me back maple syrup from the Canada leg of her trip, and the fact that I was going to go home with a lot of leftover curry? Bonuses.

At least the conversation went well ... partly because a lot of it was a status update on my intellectually disabled aunt back in Montreal. I mean, it’s a win overall, the whole thing. Just took a lot of work and a lot of annoyance to get there, given moving to new living space with new carer. And at least my aunt’s new carer is a lot nicer than the last one, who thought that heavy medication was the solution to all ‘problems’ (and by ‘problems’, I mean ‘things that actually obliged her to deal with any mood but “placid acceptance” from any of her charges ever’). Just ... honestly, moving from a larger space to a smaller one is difficult at the best of times. Especially when you have to replace furniture. But moving from a smaller space to a larger one when dealing with The Sibling Thing (as much as you love them, sometimes they just dance the Mashed Potato on your last damn nerve) on top of that whole “The Maternal Side Of My Family” Thing, which translates to a piquant blend of stubborn, opinionated, varying degrees of bossy, easily frustrated by distractions during time-sensitive or otherwise vexing tasks, and sentimental when it comes to belongings, at least in this scenario.

(No, I do not exempt myself from this. I just have somewhat better coping mechanisms than most of my family.)

Interesting the bits you pick up in passing, though. While inflation and the like is particularly bad over here, it would appear to be not much better in Canada. My mother picked up the maple sugar I asked for - in the really big tin flask, which is just a nostalgia trip and a half for me, because I’m pretty sure I went to sugaring off parties at the place that makes that brand - and I presume it was at the duty free because her comment to me was “It cost nearly as much as the liquor”. She was very quick to tell me to not feel bad, and I don’t really, because she could have just not got it because I did understand that it might not be possible. Still, it being that expensive where they make the stuff is scary. So yeah, things be getting expensive.

As you can see, it was still a nice dinner, even though I hurt a lot during most of it. We went to the Indian place I always order from when I’m doing takeaway; I introduced my mother to the place last time she invited me out and now apparently she and my stepfather also get takeaway from there. I have a feeling that Mum ordered big and ordered a fairly filling appetiser so that I could take home as much of it as possible home as leftovers, largely because “She’s clearly in pain, that’ll probably take awhile to die down, not having to cook for awhile will help, so ... ALL THE CURRY”. That’s going to be a theme for the rest of the week, as well; Mum really took the fact that I’m not really a fan of turkey to heart and there’ll be turkey for them and duck for me again this year, and I’ll likely be taking a lot of leftovers home from that as well, and on top of that, Mum apparently wants to offload some of the Boxing Day leftovers onto me as well--

Oh. Yeah. I should explain that one. The parentals both have kids from the previous marriage, and that always makes the holidays complicated. So the basic agreement seems to be that Christmas Day is for the kids to spend with the parent who had primary custody. So my stepsibs and I get our respective mothers over Christmas Day, and on Boxing Day, my stepfather gets his kids, my mother gets the closest thing to grandkids she’s ever going to get through my stepsiblings’ kids, and I get some peace and quiet. Seems to work for everybody. Anyway, since there’s going to be a lot of food around Boxing Day, there’ll be more leftovers than the parentals know what to do with. So ... curry leftovers, leftovers from the lamb breast I had planned for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day leftovers, and potentially Boxing Day leftovers. I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to need to grocery shop at all this month.

Honestly, this is no end of good. Maybe if I just eat my curry leftovers and maybe do the tuna lemon broccoli pasta thing over the next few days, the pain flare will have died down and I’ll be able to actually cook the lamb breast. And also the various bits of treats I’m making for the parentals for Christmas. Then again, I have to commute on Thursday, so maybe not. I’ll do my best.