#I am trying to find a funny way to talk about my brain condition and this is the closest I’ve come

[hotchswifey]

insomnia - dean winchester x reader

(this is the first thing i have written in about 2 years 😭😭😭😭

it kinda sucks but i like it

warnings: insomnia (i am aware that any sleep disorders cannot be cured by another person and i do not mean to take away from people who suffer from these conditions, this was just a cute little idea i had), a little angst?? (just about how much deans life sucks.), fluff, cuddling, overthinking, thinking badly about yourself (ur thoughts can be mean but ur lovely and brilliant <3333)

also i have a hc that dean goes really silent when he's tired, except he can't go silent around most people bc then they start to think something is really wrong™, but actually he is just too exhausted to try to talk (self-projection? maybe.)

word count: 2373)

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You rubbed at your tired eyes, walking into the bunker’s kitchen, your eyes adjusting to the light that definitely shouldn’t have been on - considering it was 3.32am. Your eyes fell on Dean, who was hunched over the island counter eating cereal. ‘Should’ve figured it was him who couldn’t sleep, too’, you thought. As bad as your sleeping habits had gotten, you always marvelled at Dean’s capability to be a functioning human with so little sleep.

He had noticed you as soon as you stepped foot in the room, but he did nothing to acknowledge your presence. Figures. You reasoned that the poor guy’s probably slept twice in the last week. You didn’t address him either; whether it was sleep deprivation or knowing he wanted to be left alone, you didn’t know. You just went to grab yourself a bowl of cereal. 

It was quiet (except for the sound of pouring milk and Dean’s chewing), but it was comfortable. It gave you some peace knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep - something so simple yet far out of your reach. You didn’t know when it happened (your inability to sleep), but ‘it comes with the life,’ you supposed. You grabbed your bowl and left Dean to ponder on his own.

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You rubbed at your tired eyes again. The same routine - lay in bed for hours, eventually get up because you’re hungry, head to the kitchen and find the light on. Again and again, this happened - Dean always sat there. It had become a funny thing kind of (in an unhealthy, oh-my-god-i-just-want-to-sleep-but-i-guess-it’s-nice-to-see-dean type of way). 

He didn’t acknowledge you, you didn’t acknowledge him, you poured your cereal to the sound of Dean chewing and went back to your room to eat. You wished he would invite you to sit down, even if you both ate silently. It was nice not to be alone at night, overthinking every gruesome and terrible thing to come. But you knew it was Dean, and he definitely needed some peace, quiet, and alone time (and this was the most alone time he willingly gave himself). 

You ate back in your room, not sleeping for yet another night.

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You and the boys had just got back from a vamp hunt. Sore, tired and, frankly, pissed off. The hunt was fine, you all supposed. But, god, it takes a lot to completely decapitate somebody. Your energy was all drained, and the only thing you wanted to do was sleep - but could you? No. Of course, you couldn’t. Why? A thunderstorm? Fireworks? Gunshots? No. Because your brain hates you. God forbid you get an ounce of sleep.

Your routine ensued again, more sluggish this time and certainly more pissed. All you wanted to do was behead a few vamps and sleep it off, but no. Of course not. Try to sleep, fail to sleep, get up and haul your ass to the kitchen, pour cereal, eat cereal. How did your life become so dull?

The lights are on again. You think, ‘There is no way in all hell Dean is awake. That boy put himself through more physical torment you could ever even dream of (not that you’d want to)’. You weren’t too shocked when, even after today, you saw Dean sitting there.

It wasn’t a surprise that Dean Winchester (saviour of the world, the perfect killer) was still awake, even after killing eight vamps single-handedly (but from how he was sitting, you were sure he’d hurt his back on the hunt). Dean. Again. In the kitchen. Not sleeping.

You didn’t know why, but it pissed you off more than it should have. 

“Why are you still up?” You asked, walking past the island to the cereal cupboard. No response. Of course. You rolled your eyes, fishing out the box of lucky charms you reserved for awful days. You caught Dean’s eye as you turned around to get a bowl. 

He might’ve been the strongest man you knew physically and mentally, but he looked so tired. More tired than you had ever seen him. More tired now than after ending the apocalypse or returning from purgatory. How could he look so exhausted after one vamp hunt? You thought about it for a second, only now realising how many times you had gotten up and he had been in the kitchen. Every time you got up, he was in the kitchen. What are the chances that when you can’t sleep, neither can he? Or was it more likely he wasn’t sleeping at all?

If you were being truthful, the strongest man you knew looked like hell. He looked like a little boy who couldn’t sleep because he had a nightmare and wanted his mom. Except he wasn’t a little boy, he was living through the nightmare and had no one to turn to when things got bad.

You had felt pity for Dean before (how could you not, the man has quite literally been to hell and back), but this was a different kind of pity. This was the kind of pity that only came when things were terrible. When you realise this was how it had to be, how it would be, forever. The kind of pity that came when you realised you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt useless looking at him in his dressing gown, hunched over the counter.

He was the world’s saviour, and you had to assume that came with consequences - like not sleeping.

You didn’t say anything. Your anger had dissipated into sadness - sadness for being unable to help your friend. There was nothing you could say or do. There was nothing at all. You stared at him, and he stared back, and that was it. You went about your night - pour the cereal, return to your room, and not sleep.

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Another day. Another hunt. Another sleepless night.

You considered buying the strongest sleeping pills and calling it a day. But you knew you couldn’t. Dean would haul your ass out for another hunt tomorrow, and he’d be pissed if you were fast asleep.

‘He should take some sleeping pills’, you thought. Maybe he would actually be remotely okay then.

Not fall asleep, get up, walk to the kitchen, see Dean, not acknowledge each other, get your cereal and leave. Again and again. You may have liked it, though. Just that little bit of routine in your hectic lives. Even if it was a bad routine.

You poured your cereal, your back to Dean, in complete silence. It was nice. Comfortable.

You picked up your spoon, ready to head back to bed, and turned around to find Dean already looking at you. You paused on the spot, unsure as to why he was staring. He didn’t stop when you noticed him. He looked as tired as ever. The sight of him, looking exhausted, with a bowl of cereal and beer, was heartbreaking. It physically hurts to look at.

He looked at you, and you looked back. Silent. Again. You wish you knew what to say, but what could you say? ‘Hey, Dean. You look like shit.’ You were sure you looked just as bad.

The sudden eye contact didn’t end. You both are not blinking, not moving, simply just looking. It was like you were communicating telepathically, just understanding each other and the hell you were both going through. This life was bad enough with sleep.

He didn’t say anything when you moved to sit down next to him, he didn’t say anything when you began to eat your (soggy) cereal, and he didn’t say anything when you finished eating. He just drank his beer and ate his cereal wordlessly. He said nothing when you sat there for 5… 10… 15… 20 minutes. Not one word.

You wanted to know what was going on in his head so badly. You wanted to know how you could help if you could help. But Dean doesn’t share his problems. You knew that, Sam knew that Cas knew that- everybody in the damn world knew that.

You sat and sat and sat silently. Half an hour passed, then an hour, then two… before you knew it, Sam was walking in- tired and grumpy. The sun had risen (not that you could see it), and a new day had started.

“You look like shit, dude”, Dean said to Sam, who promptly rolled his eyes.

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This time, when you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t go to the kitchen. You just laid there. Unmoving. You’re sleep-deprived mind was overthinking everything- what if you fucked up on that hunt 3 years ago, and Sam and Dean still hate you to this day? What if Sam hates you? What if Dean hates you? What if Dean is so fucking sick of you interrupting his nightly cereal time? You were a victim of your mind- your thoughts and inability to sleep. 

Ugh. You were so hungry. But, right now, your brain was convincing you you were single-handedly Dean’s biggest annoyance right now (if Dean could read your thoughts right now, he would be calling you his biggest idiot).

A knock on your door startled you more than it should’ve (considering you had been hunting for quite a while at this point).

A knock. At (you looked over to your alarm clock) 3:34am. ‘Why is Sam awake at this time? Why’s he knocking on my door?’ you thought. ‘It can’t be Dean. I’ve done nothing but piss him off for the last month. You squint your eyes preemptively as you reach over to turn on the lamp by your bed and get up. The floor was cold under your feet, and your body was exhausted from the lack of sleep. You reached towards the doorknob, preparing to see Sam. 

Sam. Who was definitely not at the door. Because Dean was standing there, in boxers and a white t-shirt, holding 2 bowls of cereal, looking as tired as you felt. Huh.

He looked at you silently, extending one bowl towards yourself. You took it hesitantly, staring at him, confused. He didn’t react. He didn’t say a word. Just lifted his bowl to eat his cereal. You moved to give Dean the option to come in. It was like a silent agreement had happened between you. Cereal and silence.

He walked in and sat on your bed; you closed your door and joined him. Wordless. Silent.

Maybe, you weren’t annoying him. Perhaps, he enjoyed this as much as you did. Maybe. Maybe.

Ten minutes passed, and you finished your cereal and leaned over to put it on the mahogany desk. ‘The Men of Letters enjoyed a frivolous life, huh. Who needs a mahogany desk?’ You thought, trying to distract yourself from your overactive mind. Dean moved over to do the same, leaning into you whilst he did. 

He didn’t seem to lean away from you after that. He didn’t seem to move at all. He just sat close as you both stared at the wall, unblinking. God, you were tired. You just wanted to sleep. You felt like your body was going to shut down any day now.

“You should get some sleep,” Dean’s groggy voice came out of nowhere. It surprised you, him actually talking. 

“Yeah, I’m trying,” you replied. Hell, you were trying. You were trying so hard, you just needed to-. Dean moved before you could finish your thought, standing up and moving to the top of the bed, pulling back the dishevelled sheets. He laid down in the bed, propping his head onto his hands.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

You moved to join him in the tiny twin bed. He pulled back the covers to let you in. You weren’t too sure what to do with yourself, then. You sat there with your knees to your chin, shoulders hunched. He had invited himself into your bed, and you felt like you were invading HIS space. Why were you still overthinking this? Why were you still thinking he didn’t want you here? Obviously, he did! 

His arm wrapped around your shoulders before you could think anymore. You looked over at him, his green eyes reflective in the lamplight, and he looked back at you. Wordless. You gave him a small smile and moved to lie down. He joined you, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder. You debated whether you should lean against his chest but decided not to overthink it and just do it. You were sick of overthinking every little thing.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, yours wrapped around his. This was good. He was good. Nothing was exchanged between you; there wasn’t a need for words. You both knew this was what you two needed- each other. Dean had never really been alone (whether it was Sam, Cas, or Benny), and he needed somebody there to remind him that everything was okay. You were okay- sleep-deprived and needing a new career, but okay. 

Your eyes were shutting before you could help it. Dean’s steady heartbeat in your ear and arms around your body calmed you. It was almost funny how quickly you were falling asleep now. Months and months of sleepless nights, and all it took was Dean to be here, holding you. You wished you could enjoy it more (not knowing if this would happen again), but you were so goddamn tired. 

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You awoke the following day to repeated knocks on your door and Sam’s voice shouting your name. Damnit Sam. He opened your door before you even had the chance to fully wake up.

“Have you seen Dea- oh.”

The man in question was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around you, your legs tangled together. You looked towards Sam as he mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ and left hurriedly. You were surprised it didn’t wake Dean. A pin drop could wake him up. You looked over at him, admiring how peaceful he looked. It was simple. Simple and nice and sort of domestic. Or as domestic as a hunter’s life can be.

You leaned against his chest, his arms tightening around you, falling back asleep.

You two had a different routine from then on- if either couldn’t sleep, you would find each other.

[shadyfestivalperfection]

The Forever You Forgot~10

Summery: A six year old girl named Nadia Barnes born with a condition called 65 roses uncovers the story on how her dad-Bucky Barnes met her missing mother by narrating her the story and nothing remains the same after Nadia finds out the truth about her mother.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Note:This story is based on the movie ‘Hi papa’. This story is like what if Bucky Barnes was in this situation that the male and female lead faced in the movie ‘Hi papa’. To be honest I am absolutely obsessed with this movie and I could help but write a Bucky Barnes version of it. I would totally recommend everyone to watch this movie and get some tissues with you before you start watching.

||Master List||

Chapter 10: Drunken Confessions

(Author’s POV)

“I heard your love story and imagined it as a great one,” Y/n slurred, her words thick with alcohol.

She and Bucky were stumbling their way back, barely able to walk in a straight line. The night air was cool, the scent of the ocean hanging between them, but the warmth of the alcohol burning in their veins made them careless.

“And here you are,” Y/n continued, throwing her hands in the air dramatically, “getting drunk and dancing with other girls! Shame on you!”

Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes as he gazed up at the star-streaked sky.

“God, I wish that stupid tour guide hadn’t dragged you along. My life would’ve been blissful,” he muttered.

They both collapsed onto a pile of cushions under a large palm tree, the world around them swaying slightly.

“What did you say?!” Y/n snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. “I dare you to say that louder!”

Bucky turned his head toward her, his expression unreadable. “Speak louder? Then listen carefully.”

He paused, then exhaled.

“The wiring in your brain got screwed up in the accident.”

Y/n froze.

Bucky immediately turned away, realizing what he had just said.

But it was too late.

Y/n sat up, staring at him with wide, unfocused eyes. “What the hell did you just say?”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

Y/n leaned closer, her breath warm against his cheek. “No. Say it again.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. He looked at her and, despite the alcohol fogging his thoughts, something inside him snapped.

“You don’t have the wiring in the first place,” he muttered.

Y/n shot up, her fists clenched. “Hey! Talk about anything you want—but not my accident.”

Bucky stood up as well, towering over her. “And what if I do?”

“Then fight me!” she challenged, pushing at his chest.

He laughed, a deep, bitter sound. “Why are we even openly discussing this? Oh, wait.” He smirked. “You won’t remember a damn thing in the morning.”

Y/n scowled. “I won’t forget. I remember everything.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

Bucky burst into laughter, so hard that he lost his balance and fell back onto the cushions.

Y/n crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “What’s so funny?”

“Say that again,” Bucky said between chuckles.

“I don’t forget anything!” she yelled.

Bucky raised his hand and started counting. “Five seconds. One, two, three, four, five. Now repeat what you just said.”

Y/n blinked. “…What?”

Bucky smirked, shaking his head. “Exactly.”

She frowned, trying to recall her words.

Bucky mimicked her voice mockingly. “I have people to remember things for me. That’s why I have no regrets.”

Y/n stepped closer, fuming.

“You think you’re so damn clever, huh?” she spat.

Bucky leaned in, his smirk fading. “No. Because the one who remembers everything is the one who has to live with all the regrets.”

A heavy silence settled between them.

And then, without warning, Y/n grabbed a nearby pillow and swung it at him.

Bucky caught it just in time, but she swung again, and before either of them knew it, they had collapsed onto the ground, tangled in drunken exhaustion.

The fight turned into laughter. The laughter turned into quiet. And the quiet turned into something else entirely—something unspoken.

As the night deepened, Y/n’s head eventually found its place against Bucky’s arm. His metal fingers hesitated before brushing against her cheek, tracing a memory he wasn’t allowed to hold onto.

Soon enough, sleep claimed them both.

_____

Somewhere in the darkness, Nadia stirred.

She rubbed her sleepy eyes and padded over to where her father and Y/n lay. The sight of them, peaceful and close, made her small heart swell with something she didn’t fully understand yet.

She carefully nestled between them, her tiny body curling against Bucky’s side.

“Y/n, can I ask you something?”

Half-asleep, Y/n hummed in response.

“Can you stay with us forever?”

The question hung in the air, delicate and heartbreaking.

Y/n didn’t answer.

And in the silence, Nadia drifted back to sleep, never realizing that—just for a second—Bucky had held her a little closer.

-to be continued

(Yes, I know that Bucky cannot get drunk. But for the sake of this chapter, he can 😉. I know this chapter is short, but I promise the next one is long!)

[jessicamdawn]

Perfect 10 Liners, ep 9:

Starting out with parental drama. Cool cool cool. Tell me more.

Oh so NOW we bring up the admin of the fan page thing?!

Lolol I love Yotha and Faifah’s relationship.

A wild Pepper!

A wild Boom!

The black brooder character wearing a totally black shirt that says ‘Positive Energy’ on it is perfect.

A wild Title!

Oh. I thought all the mains were Perfect 10 Liners, but Gun isn’t.

Yotha, resident bad boy, realizing that 1) there is a person in his bed, 2) that person is having a nightmare, and 3) it’s the loud guy from earlier that annoyed him, and immediately being concerned and trying to help him? This ain’t no Bad Boy. Aw.

Perfect 10 Liners, ep 10:

Gun tucking both brothers in was cute.

Yotha admitting he doesn’t know how to tie a tie 3x without getting angry or defensive? Not a Bad Boy, just an introvert.

Hello, Ford and Aungpao!

It’s a Yacht! Hi, Yacht!

If my sibling ditched me and made me room with a person I’d only met twice, I’d be mad too.

Aw, Gun saw that Yotha likes warm milk so he brought him milk. I also like this repeating tie thing.

Yotha, did you imprint on him or something? Trusting he wouldn’t sell out your location. Waiting for him to find you. The soft way you’re talking. Like, Mr. Grumpy-Pants seems really fond really fast.

Now Yotha has on a shirt that says “I dream you love me again” and I feel like that’s accurate for his character.

Yotha “I want to look at you.” Yotha “Sleep in my bed with me so my condition doesn’t get worse in the night.” Mr. Clingy over here. If anyone spent more than five minutes with him, his Bad Boy rep wouldn’t stand a chance.

Yeah, Yotha’s got Feels already.

Oh yay! We get more Pond/Sand even though their friends aren’t the main focus anymore!

Yotha is so damn funny for using a ‘Personal Information Questionaire’ to learn about Gun without having to actually ask. My dude. I hope you learn communication skills by the end of this.

Perfect 10 Liners, ep 11:

“Arm invited me to the movies with his friends.” Um. That’s just Arm and Arc. He was inviting you to third wheel. Now it’s a double-date.

The swelling music over Warit and Klao’s conversation. Newton and Nop clinking glasses behind them. XD

The blunt way Yotha says no one has ever noticed how he felt or cared if he was happy… D:

“The harmless him is the real him he doesn’t show to people. But he also goes and sits in the bar waiting to get hit on by people who are taken, so he can end their relationships.” I mean, not cool, but he’s also being passive, not purposefully seeking out couples to ruin, so.

Mirroring Gun on the table. “I wanted to know if you could accept the real me.” Petting Gun. “Don’t have nightmares, Yotha.” Gut me. I’m dead. I love them so much.

“Am I a good boy?” Sir. Sir. Sir.

Perfect 10 Liners, ep 12:

Yotha is like ‘I don’t got time for this’ and Newton and Nop are like ‘cheers to the newest ep of drama’

The bar clock said 3 AM but they’re signing in at the dorm at 1:50 AM.

Yeah, all of Gun’s friends know Yotha likes him now.

I still need a scene or two showing Klao and Wa being happy with each other before I can support this relationship.

Yotha! Arm sees what you did there, Yotha. You’re lucky Gun is dim enough to not ask questions.

“Whoever overcomes their fear first wins.” Um. I think Yotha already won.

Someone please love Po.

Giving Yotha that quiz just broke Gun’s brain, and gave him a minor heart attack.

What’s with the obsession with milk?

She forgot that the son she *raised* is allergic to milk? Talk about absent parenting.

He kissed you. He took that quiz thinking of you, telling you he likes you. He promised you his Special Someone bracelet. He’s told you you’re cute on more than one occasion. It’s really obvious he likes you and is down to date. If they hold off on them dating the entire time, like they did with Arc and Arm, I’m gonna have an issue.

Perfect 10 Liners, ep 13:

How to Socialize Your Cat, by Gun “Beagle”

Franc has a faen??? Who? Since when?

“Can I ask you not to go there tonight?” aww

Klao, you deserve this. I know you two will work it out, but right now, you need this. Stop acting a fool.

Mmm I love this drama. ‘the power went off’ ‘it WHAT? FUCK’

Me: Yotha, say you’re sorry. Or please.

Yotha: I’m sorry. Please?

Me: Wow! He said both.

Yotha, this is not the time for a kiss! Boys! You have class!

Kissing Wa was dumb as shit.

I love that Yotha immediately asked if Gun was okay.

Everyone’s blaming Yotha for the fight. He was just walking.

Yotha asked twice if Gun would go back to the room, but he didn’t force him to go or try to change his mind. I like that.

Yotha sliding into bed with Gun cause he can’t sleep is cute. I’m not sure if it also counts as creepy, but it was cute.

I understand why Gun is upset, but someone needs to tell Yotha WHY he’s upset. He can’t properly fix it if he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to fix.

This plan only works because Gun is an idiot.

Your cat has not been fully socialized. It is trying to say sorry the way that worked last time, which shouldn’t work this time. Please communicate with your cat.

Perfect 10 Liners, ep 14:

“I guess I like it.” Hint, Gun. He’s not talking about the ocean.

Tawan clocking Yotha and Gun instantly. Of course.

Yotha should NOT be driving. He didn’t SLEEP.

I really wish they would’ve shown the whole beach scene at once. These flashbacks are annoying.

The birthday thing was sweet, and depressing. Shit parents.

Gosh dangit, Yotha.

Yes, good, Faifa. Tell the boys to communicate.

“If someone makes you love them more than me, you’re free to go.” Yotha thinks that’s a reassuring thing, but it really isn’t. Also, don’t fucking lie to people, Yotha. You would be wrecked if Gun fell for someone else.

You know that gaping pit that opened in your stomach and your chest when you found the locked door, Yotha? Remember that feeling. Pair it with how you keep imagining him beside you. That’s your answer.

Yotha sliding the whole table closer to Gun was funny

I was gonna be upset with Yotha because no answer does not mean yes, but that was not cuddling. He was barely touching Gun. Weak ass cuddle, bro.

Now, asking before kissing him, especially when he’s sick, especially when you’re in a questionable relationship status? Definitely something you should do.

Perfect 10 Liners, ep 15:

Yotha is such a pushover when it comes to Gun.

Pun and Jet~ I missed them.

Faifa and Yotha throwing the blankets off was peak sibling.

A bare glimpse of Pond and Sand…

Did we just….SKIP Faifa’s contest? Wtf

“I ended it.” Klao, you got your ass beat. You didn’t end shit.

“I’ll win you over again.” What are you on? You two never lost each other.

None of this make out should’ve happened. Yotha should be sore as shit with AT LEAST a bruised rib.

Yotha immediately thinking the parents hate him and being a sad puppy about it is great.

“I’m trying to win his heart.” Immediately followed by “Not my family. Our family.” From Not-Quite-Lovers to Married? Wow. WOW.

I wasn’t a fan of pulling Gun into the shed, but I am a big fan of the “if you ever dream of this place again, now you can remember the feel of my hug and know you aren’t alone.”

“’I don’t know’ means yes” NO IT DOESN’T. I don’t like this. It’s meant to be cute but it’s NOT.

Perfect 10 Liners, ep 16:

Yotha and Gun want to die now. (This episode had a lot of embarrassment, honestly)

‘Unbelievable!’ and the music stop was so funny

Gun and Yotha are going to be unbearable now.

They are just racing through the year, now, aren’t they? Like damn.

I’m just feeling more and more bad for Faifa. I’m ready for him to get his happy ending.

Are Franc and Book dating????

Klao, chill. Wa was only gone for like 60 seconds.

I get how mom’s mind was working, but it’s still not okay. (also, why are we acting like she’s leaving for the first time? She already lived abroad, didn’t she?)

Oh noooooo the questionnaire part was too embarrassing.

This whole thing is meant to be super cute but all I can think is how bad I feel for Faifa!

This couple will stay together. They are in each other's pocket, and they need to chill out, but they learned to communicate and help each other and listen, so they'll be fine.

Wa and Klao are...something. They're at least hot for each other, and like each other enough to keep getting back together. By the end, they'd gotten a lot less toxic for each other, so that's a plus. If they keep working at it, they might be good for each other.

The show got a lot less realistic with regard to injuries this arc. Luckily, I don't think Wine and Faifa are gonna be getting into fights like the others.

[beevean]

N!Alucard swearing in particular doesn't mske sense because he was raised by the two people in the whole show who actually never swore once and were really refined, not to mention he presumably lived in pretty isolated conditions so there could be no way for him to gain any rude behavior

The show tries to sell the idea that Trevor's behavior rubbed off on him but he was calling his ancestors brain dead hillbillies and overall acting like a cunt as soon as he met the guy

It literally makes no sense for him to be this way even in-universe

Yes, exactly.

It's the same logic of that S4 scene where Sypha goes on a rant because "I said shit, you did this to me!" when this woman literally snarked that she was going to make Trevor drink her piss by telling him its was beer, like, 10 minutes after meeting him. No, you made nearly everyone talk the same, you don't get to paint Trevor as the "crass one"!

Funnily enough, Alucard insulting the Belmont heritage by more or less calling them primitive savages for their techniques does fit the idea that he's a haughty spoiled prince who thinks he's so much superior than the low class. Probably not what the writers intended, though :P

overall acting like a cunt as soon as he met the guy

In S1E4, he literally asks Trevor if he's "a runt running around with the Belmont crest" before even fighting. And I get the idea that Alucard wanted to test him to see if he could help him, but the antagonism is so forced. I honestly don't know why Alucard would hate Trevor on sight: their personalities are not that opposite.

It's shit like this that pisses me off:

Alucard: This is a simple remote viewing mirror. A little of the activating language is chipped. A few of the runes need re-cutting, but workable. You have the most fascinating family junkyard, Belmont. Trevor: You are a cockwart, Alucard. Sypha: Stop it. *drags Trevor away* You are an adult. You do not have to rise to his every barb. Trevor: He's pissing me off like it's his job, Sypha. Sypha: Grow up, Trevor.

Alucard attacked Trevor first for literally zero reason, Trevor insults him back (less elegantly but whatever, I'd call him a cockwart too) and Sypha reproaches him and tells him to grow up? And then the scene transitions to Trevor explaining the origins of his name... which leads to the two flirting? Bro? The fuck? This is literally "be nice to your bully" logic??

This is the forced framing of the show. It wants to tell me Trevor is the immature, rude one, because Alucard is justified:

Sypha: But it's like he's a cold spot in the room. It's not like your sadness. Trevor: I'm not sad. Sypha: Yes, you are. But I can shout at you, or tease you, and get a reaction that lets me know you're still in there. His sadness is like an icy well. It's bottomless… and it swallows up your voice and anything you try to drop into it.

Trevor's depression is funny, Alucard's depression is tragic. Comic relief vs. real protagonist. You can't make this shit up.

And then this other shit:

Sypha: Stop testing him, Alucard. Alucard: I am concerned I have thrown my lot in with a demented infant. Sypha: I imagine he has similar concerns about you. Alucard: I am also concerned that you enjoy him too much. Sypha: And what is that supposed to mean? Alucard: He is unreliable, emotionally damaged, and apparently very distracting to you while you should be focused on the task at hand. Sypha: Oh. Am I not working hard enough? Hmm? Alucard: And he's a drunk and he's self-destructive and anybody trying to hold on to him may well simply be dragged down with him. Sypha: You're afraid. You worry that you might have made the wrong choice. So you're trying to make him prove himself again and again by constantly provoking him. You forget, Alucard. Trevor didn't get to finish out his childhood. He is not the man here who may not have grown up.

This is not testing. Sypha joked about finding a book with penis spells, and Alucard unprovoked threw a jab at Trevor. He just decided to insult him as soon as he saw an opening. (although, hilariously enough, it lowkey sounds like he's crushing on Sypha and he's jealous that she and Trevor had a decent chat the other night)

Hey, asshole. Trevor literally brought your ungrateful ass to a place that holds all of his heritage, a heritage he was shunned for, because you need help to kill Daddy - and I don't give a shit if you feel attacked in your vampire identity which makes zero sense and makes you look really callous, you want a vampire hunter for the job, you get someone who kills people like you for a living. You have seen him fighting: you have seen that he is very competent at his job, which is what you need. On the other hand, in S2 we barely if ever see him drink like in S1. You literally, literally, have zero reasons to speak that way, unless you're just looking for excuses to be a dick. And if you're that insecure about your choice... leave. Find someone else. Go fight Dracula alone, since in any case you ended up doing all the work. And Sypha, why the fuck did you go and bang Trevor when you clearly prefer Alucard over him. Look, she's defending him, but she's still calling him a manchild! What's with Ellis and his obsession with manchildren and humiliating them!

... I'm sorry, I know I strayed away from the point of him swearing, but N!Alucard is such a rude prick! I hate him! It's not Trevor's fault, he was born that way! He's not even that pretty that would justify him becoming the fandom's blorbo! I want to slap him and Sypha so much and then rescue Trevor who needs much better friends than these two 😭

[kojoty]

The thing about identity is that it changes with the tides of what is happening to you, just intrinsically, so it is very difficult to pattern map exactly what is exacerbating what facet. But, astutely, it has been made known to me that summer Michael is far more stable in identity than winter Michael. Which makes sense. Because when I over book myself to the brim with friends and community and outdoors and tasks in the caliber that one can in the heat and sun-- going honeybee mode-- a lot of the dips and crests even out through sheer pleasant and earned exhaustion by the end of the night. Whereas in the winter.... Not as much to do and far more time spent stuck inside my own brain and head landscape. But then also it is true that I pretty much...... Hm

To say I'm different than last year is no joke, and to say that the me from before June 8th feels like a Ghost is also no joke. But it's not as though I'm completely fresh and new--phoenix rising metaphor and all, even if I cauterize and burned myself down to the ash, the ash still had.... Me...? Inside it. It's like taking a sickly tree and cutting it down to the trunk and letting it grow back stronger. It's different! But the same in many ways. And I have spent month-- 12of them-- crawling out of the controlled burn and trying to map myself. So the 'patterns' I'm noting are, to an extent, not just new, but patterns that I am cultivating and honing and shaping. So much of this is new again. Even without a dissasociative condition-- of which I generally exist in shades and facets of three different main Genres , I've found-- so much of post addiction is looking back at your self in addiction and not recognizing the person in the mirror. Many memoirs and accounts of addiction talk aboht this. They feel alien to you even as they feel the same as you. It feels like a version of you that lies dormant. A bundle of every bad habit and unhealthy coping mechanism rolled into one person that becomes VERY good at lying. But when you cauterize that, you don't just *develop* health over night. You have to work on it.

And that's what I've been doing and will continue doing. Sobriety has helped me prioritize the greatest and most personal project I will ever have the honor of completing-- me. This is all over the place. I guess.... Pattern mapping and finding the patterns in yourself is cool. But I'm just now, a year in to Michael Whit Misha whatever able to see just the beginnings of what that looks like, with a healthy body, a healthier mind, a more keen outlook and insight.

Identity is funny and silly and if nothing else, the freedom to demand and assert that I can be whatever identities I choose to form with deliberation has been monumental in letting those cauterized ashes lay to rest, because at the core of it, addiction personalities are formed from a desire to not just appease those who aren't you, but to delete the aspects of yourself that ARE authentic. And in authenticity I have lost some of those that aren't me. But I've gained a hell of a lot meaningful relationships the more I've been unapologetic and taken accountability for the spaces I should and shouldn't inhabit. And my community and my relationships are the reason for doing it and I am so full to the brim with love every day of my life now. Even on the hard days, at least, I can say without lying that I am trying my fucking best. And I can mean it. Anyways.

Project year 1 complete 👍

[tithnamath]

Protagonist, Heroes and Superheroes: Who are my Favourites?

Hello wandering traveller! I'm back again to yap; this time about SOME of my favourite protagonists. This feels strange to me as I gravitate towards liking villains and anti-heroes more that the good guys haha.

The Hobbit:

I don't need to say anything for this one.

He's my adopted grandpa in my delulu mind. I honestly think I have a soft spot (NOT IN A ROMNTIC WAY) for him.

Honestly, for a good two years I was a Fili over Kili typa gal, but lately my brain chemistry altered and now I have a growing love for Kili. I do think he is still a bit cocky for my liking - but love is blind so I will ignore it haha.

Lord of the Rings:

This is also part of the Hobbit section as well, but Gandalf the Grey is a wee tinker isn't he? Also, Gandalf the Grey over Gandalf the White any day of the week - I think he got too serious (even though he got upgraded to the highest wizard which does make sense but still).

I don't need to say anything for this part 2.

I tried to find a memeable/funny image for Arwen, but she's just inhumanly beautiful in every picture haha. Hot take, I definitely prefer Peter Jackson's adaptation of Arwen than the original as she has more of a story rather than be mentioned a couple of times throughout the trilogy.

The Witcher:

It's Henry Cavill. What more? I think even though he is more (or tries to be) neutral as a Witcher is conditioned to be, I'm adding him on the good side. He also does a lot of heroic acts which would deem him being a sort of hero.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, he is my favourite character in the Witcher series by a long shot! If there is anything I remember from the books, it would be him talking about his drinking (blood as he is a higher vampire) problem which caused his misses to leave him and ruin his life. It is more funny when you read it for the first time as you never expected that from a vampire.

Marvel:

This one is really hard cause I like quite a lot of the characters so I might have to do a part 2 for this one.

It would be a sin if I didn't put this image in. So, Blade has been my favourite marvel character, and my favourite character in general since I was a wee one. I remember watching Blade II when I was 6 (at an age where I really shouldn't have been watching it), and it was the only thing that calmed me down after I almost chopped my thumb off. That is another story to tell - one of my lore drops.

Another character who I've loved since I was still in nappies. I thought, and still think that he is one of the coolest characters in any comic book and film adaptations.

"He's the best guy arouuuuund" "What about the people he murdered?" "What muuurrrdddeerrrr?" I'm putting him here cause I want to; Bucky started out good and ended up good in the end. I will defend this guy at all costs!

Star Wars:

TBH despite liking all of the characters in Star Wars, Princess Leia is one of the few protagonists that I really like. I do remember when I was a kid trying to copy her hair styles and outfit haha. She's an icon, she's a legend and she is the moment.

Another fashion icon (haha jks). C-3PO is my spirit animal.

Foundation:

I honestly am inspired by her to get better at math (even though I left school 5 years ago) as she is insanely skilled at mathematics. She seems like one of a few in the series that is not insane in some shape or form.

Harry Potter:

Give him to me now please. Also another character I don't need to explain why he's one of my favourites.

He's just a walking teddy bear with a heart of gold. Also, get this man a baby dragon.

That's all for today's post! What are you favourite protagonists?

Tith Namath X

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

There's a study that basically says that the happiest relationships are those where both people in the party think that their partner is a better person than their partner views themselves to be.

Not 'when each party thinks the other person is better than they themselves are' but specifically looking at like, our perceptions of ourselves and how that interacts with relationships.

And.. ya know. Yeah.

I think my wife is hot shit. I think syn is amazing, my wife could pull way better than me.

My wife is an almost 6 foot tall they/she with a PhD, who weight lifts and is kind as hell. They are patient, she's an amazing cook, she's smart and funny and has the biggest tits I've ever been blessed to stim with. Body like an hour glass, former kink model, amazingly sweet and soft sadist. My wife is simply amazing in every single way and I think everyone should be jealous they don't have a Syn.

On the other hand, I'm a menace to society. I am in most cases, the most mentally ill person in any physical room I operate in. That's not a weird flex. it's just... true. My physical health conditions + the hours I work mean I don't help out enough around the house. I refuse to work less. Not offering to work more physically pains me more than working more hurts me. I struggle with basic human connection and am prone to lecturing everyone around me. I talk like I swallowed a psychology and sociology textbook. I'm a giant asshole with a chip on my shoulder surrounding care work and activism. I do not cook. My DID and how it works means I often flinch back even from my wife, and if I'm not flinching there is still a huge chance I will audibly gag and make faces if they try to kiss me because ew- kissing is gross.

But that's not how Syn views me. And I can accept that. I might think she's fucking crazy for it, but she loves me. They think I'm smart and funny and okay, a little quirky. My wife thinks I'm really compassionate and likes that I consider all the sides of issues instead of finding me infuriating. For reasons beyond my comprehension, they also think I'm hot. Baffling. My wife considers it an honor that even though all of my brain pieces don't necessarily like, want to be in an adult relationship- that they all trust her enough to come home. Syn thinks I'm a hard worker and appreciates that it means something to me to be able to make a difference in other people's lives.

And I know that previously Syn has had a lot of anxiety in relationships regarding their autism and not picking up on cues. I know that they have feelings about the fact that there are people who have found them annoying and standoffish. That they're aware that a lot of people have problems with how long it takes them to acclimate to the idea of change. Who have gotten annoyed at them for talking about their special interests too much. I know they have anxiety about their physical health disabilities and not being able to work enough/being seen as a burden because of that.

Things that like.. categorically don't bother me/ aren't how I see them.

And I dunno. There's advice I could give about being even more in love and happy at 5 years of marriage than we were that first year. But I think the research is right.

You want a partner who sees a better version of yourself than you see, and you want to see a better version of your partner than they see.

You want to see and believe the best in each other. Not in a 'they have potential' way but in a 'they are already enough' way.

[mizuta]

far from it to be my style to post about hashtag mental health issues on main but like. look. ive& been psychotic as far back as i can tangibly remember (hallucinating at 10-11, cognitive symptoms and episodes by 13-14). its been a part of my life so long that like... in a lot of ways im used to it and coping with symptoms and my life grew around a lot of the symptoms. like a tree trunk growing around a foreign object as a sapling. something that pierces directly through the middle but doesnt really impact the trees ability to stay alive in any meaningful way.

so like in a lot of ways im used to being in my own head. my partner is good at recognizing that things that are distressing to me in episodes dont process whatsoever as distressing to me a good chunk of the time. when im acting visibly distressed it actually means my level of distress is at like, 200%. its fucking unmanageable. if im visibly distressed its worse than anyone could conceptualize because typically otherwise im just numb to a lot of it or its just default my reality that its not distressing in any meaningful way until after the fact.

but like im ngl just because ive spent all of my teenage years upwards trying to take up literally the least space possible to exist and never show 80% of my "unacceptable" symptoms to 99% of people does not mean it makes it any less uncomfortable or awkward to like. be the token psychotic in some groups. to have to be the buzzkill and shit thats like hey sorry heres my hyperspecific request of the year because im fucking insane.

its miserable in a fresh new way of like sorry to have to remind everyone that its not actually a funny character quirk or joke my brain literally does not exist in your 'reality' in any meaningful way and the further outside of it i am on a given day the more unpleasant youre going to find me to be around. ignoring the insane person talking aimlessly in public doesnt actually help me it usually just reinforces that youre not real and never will be if its a bad enough day.

its never intentional. like nobody is ever doing this on purpose. especially again because i spent so much of my life being very good at hiding it. but like... it sucks so much to be masking half the time and be a little too good at it so when you stop being able to people are always levels of uncomfortable or upset. it sucks when you cant articulate anything properly and nobody really knows how to understand what youre asking for. it sucks when you have multiple severe memory conditions and cant trust your own memory and everyone immediately questions your memory when you ask for anything or point anything out. like of course im just going to fucking fold.

i dont know where im going with this or if this itself is even that coherent i know it sounds super vague but it really isnt about anyone specific im just babbling about like years worth of garbage. i got so fucked over by fakeclaiming culture because unfortunately when i started really displaying symptoms i was a teenager trying not to kill himself and being fucking insane loudly in virtual public when that was apparently an "obvious sign of exaggerating" so i had to learn to shut the fuck up and now everybody loves to forget how much im fucking unwell because god forbid you think too hard about what youre saying around others.

thank god for my partner who is literally the first person in my entire life whos ever tried to understand and genuinely knows how to talk to me when im in a particularly bad delusion or hallucinating or whatever.

man. im tired. i found out this last month i probably need to get a cane when i move out and i still feel like im going to be appropriating shit because severe knee and upper leg paint and severe balance problems cant be that bad. i hate having memory problems so bad that i so easily can be told that i dont know shit and Y is actually what happened and i usually cant actually argue against it even if im so sure thats not true.

[luzeravm]

0: Height- 5’9

1: Age- 16

2: Shoe size- 9 1/2 men’s

3: Do you smoke?- Nuh

4: Do you drink?- Never (probably)

5: Do you take drugs?- Nuh uh

6: Age you get mistaken for- 18

7: Have tattoos?- None except a branding

8: Want any tattoos?- Yes, I want matching tattoos with my friends and also ones based on the music I listen to.

9: Got any piercings?- Nope

10: Want any piercings?- not unless someone else wants me to

11: Best friend?- I have a ton but Loof is the one I will never let go of

12: Relationship status- Taken <3

13: Biggest turn ons- I have none specifically. I turn on like a light switch.

14: Biggest turn offs- Brain rot

15: Favorite movie- Hacksaw ridge, he’s just like me fr

16: I'll love you if...- you let me. There will never be any conditions to my love. If you want my heart, it’s all yours. Just don’t break it

17: Someone you miss- @greydoesstuff747

18: Most traumatic experience- Being punched and hit to the ground by my father, brother fighting me and tossing me into the sharp edge of a dresser, cousin punching me while try to punch my dad, having my heart drop as my father swung a hammer a few inches away from my cousins head and just barely stopping because it was just a threat

19: A fact about your personality- I can be just like anyone that I look up to in the moment. I went through faces of being like Kurt Cobain and Hamilton

20: What I hate most about myself- The way I look, talk, am, my interests

21: What I love most about myself- My Ambition and Delusion

22: What I want to be when I get older- US Navy Seal

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)- Depends on if they’ve pissed me off. My little sister is great when she isn’t trying to go against what I say even when I’m right, older brother hypocrite and makes fun of everything I do most times, older sister can be nice but is usually not.

24: My relationship with my parent (s)- I love my mother with all my heart. She was the first woman I loved and want to give her the world for allowing me to be in the world. I hate my father as a person and love him as my father. When I was younger I cried for the stupidest thing, a battery powered motorcycle. But he got it for me because he hated seeing a tear in my face.

25: My idea of a perfect date- A night together. I could plan so many great dates but anywhere with you would make for a wonderful time.

26: My biggest pet peeves- STOP FUCKING TRYING TO BE FUNNY BY SAYING HAUK TUAG WHEN IM JUST TRYING TO GET THROUGH GEOMETRY. I FAILD ONCE AND IT FEELS LIKE HELL AND YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE

27: A description of the girl/boy I like- An angel blue eyes blonde hair. This angel came from Hell.

28: A description of the person I dislike the most- Ginger

29: A reason I've lied to a friend- surprise them, spare feelings

30: What I hate the most about work/school- Your child ran and fell. We have wet floor signs posted everywhere. How the fuck is this my fault. THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO DO, PICK HIM UP??? IM MANING THE REGISTER

31: What my last text message says- Me too

32: What words upset me the most- I don’t love you

33: What words make me feel the best about myself- Nice, caring, loved, infatuated

34: What I find attractive in women- Just them in general. I like feminine traits in general.

35: What I find attractive in men- feminine traits

36: Where I would like to live- A farm, maybe an open area. I want to settle down some place without worry. Just with the one person I love.

37: One of my insecurities- my body

38: My childhood career choice- Solder in the military

39: My favorite ice cream flavor- Ferraro if that counts

40: Who I wish I could be- Hamilton

41: Where I want to be right now- Home wherever home is I know grey will be there

42: The last thing I ate- Fries

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately- Grey Grey Grey

44: A random fact about anything- So the best part about Black ops in it’s entirely is the game mode Zombies. They gave it so much fucking more and I love it. I miss the original game from BO4 and before. I cried at the ending because I have known these characters since I was 4 and could pick up the controller even if I wasn’t good at all. My memories are filled with them. So anyways the entire world started with the Keepers. There were two in particular. Dr Monty and the shadow man. The shadow man started to fall into darkness that being the dark aether. He lead other keepers to be consumed by the dark aether turning them into Apothocans and Dr Monty had to stop their quest for power and so that lead ti the Great War against keepers and Apothocans. The keepers won and banished the Apothocans into the Dark aether seeking them away from the outside world forever but there were still holes in the dimension. They sent an element through the multiverses that being element 115 which would corrupt man with long term exposure….. This is only the beginning. There’s too much to cover.

@aeonmother

nosy anons let's go

0: Height

1: Age

2: Shoe size

3: Do you smoke?

4: Do you drink?

5: Do you take drugs?

6: Age you get mistaken for

7: Have tattoos?

8: Want any tattoos?

9: Got any piercings?

10: Want any piercings?

11: Best friend?

12: Relationship status

13: Biggest turn ons

14: Biggest turn offs

15: Favorite movie

16: I’ll love you if…

17: Someone you miss

18: Most traumatic experience

19: A fact about your personality

20: What I hate most about myself

21: What I love most about myself

22: What I want to be when I get older

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)

24: My relationship with my parent(s)

25: My idea of a perfect date

26: My biggest pet peeves

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend

30: What I hate the most about work/school

31: What my last text message says

32: What words upset me the most

33: What words make me feel the best about myself

34: What I find attractive in women

35: What I find attractive in men

36: Where I would like to live

37: One of my insecurities

38: My childhood career choice

39: My favorite ice cream flavor

40: Who I wish I could be

41: Where I want to be right now

42: The last thing I ate

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately

44: A random fact about anything

[deafearsdiary]

A Love I don't Want to Lose

Earlier tonight, I was talking to someone about unconditional love. Actually, we were talking about cheating on the person you choose to spend your life with. Unconditional love just made its way into the conversation. Naturally, what we were speaking about made me think of you. I find it funny that I think of you like I'm expecting for this relationship between us to come about the way I fantasize it. It's sad really. I don't know why I do. But I think I do it because everyday I try to not want you. I try to not think about you day in and day out. To not let everything remind me of you. Because I don't want to hurt my own feelings when things don't go the way I want them to. So what I do is I try and look for things to get my brain to understand why we aren't together. Why we wouldn't work.

You see, everything about you might be good for me, at least the things that I've experienced to make me fall in love with you are. I could write a list but for time's sake (and because I'm really tired), we'll just condense it to everything about you. Except for one thing. That thing, is what I think might be what keeps us apart. You see, I want to be the only one for you. But that's not how you roll. I don't know the reason why you entertain so many females at once, but I don't want a life like that. I want a life being happy with my spouse. I know you want to be happy too, who doesn't? But maybe your happiness and my happiness look different. The way that I am, I want to basically be the center of someone's world. I don't want to just be at the top of the list. I don't even want a list to exist. And I think that men that have lived their lives with a list, can never burn the list and just focus on one girl. I'm not faulting you for wanting more than one, I know that's how y'all are made, but not all of y'all.

I want so badly for you to surprise me. I want so badly for me to be the person that changes you, that makes you want to be different. And better. And I know that God can do anything. But it'd be naive of me to pray for that sort of thing. To pray that you'd change, and sign your heart to me. I bet it would feel so good to be the only one getting loved unconditionally by you. But I know that's not how you are. Maybe you just like options. Or the feeling it gives you to be loved by multiple women at once. Or you like getting women to fall in love with you because you're so good at it. But I can't be one of those women. I have to choose my sanity and happiness. I can't feel like I'm losing you again. And I can't feel like I don't matter. Because that's how it feels when I'm just a name on a list. I feel expendable. Unimportant. Unloved. Small. Ugly. Especially when I love so hard and deeply. I put my all into it. I don't want to feel insignificant in the end. For me to feel like the thing that you told me that made me so happy, and smile for weeks meant nothing. Because you probably said it to seven other girls. And they felt exactly what I felt. It's not genuine, or original. It just feels offensive.

I'm sorry that I'm this way, but it's just how I am. Maybe it's because I'm the youngest sibling so I never really had much of my own. Everything was a hand-me-down, or taken from me. I had to share almost everything, and even when I had crushes they'd prefer my sisters over me. I just want my significant other to be for me. I don't want their love to come with all these conditions. I don't want to have to get you to understand that when you love others like you love me, it just makes me feel like I've been stolen from. Robbed of my most prized possession, and you gave the OK. I want you to see my worth. Be satisfied with my love and companionship, and not feel like it's not enough.

And for me to feel like this, and want this, I shouldn't want to do that to anyone else. I can't be hypocritical, I can't try and take what isn't mine. I'm going to do my best and back off. And when I have my moments of weakness, I'm going to remember how I want to be loved. I'm going to remember how badly I want your love to myself. And how I would never want a heart that I thought was in my possession to be taken by someone that wants to experience the love you give. I'm going to pray I get the love I want, and that the love I want wants me.

But I'm also going to keep hoping. Hoping that you're different from what I see. Hoping that you've changed. Hoping that you'll read these and rescue me. Hoping that the scenarios I come up with have some truth to them. Hoping that I'll get that huge romantic gesture that I so desperately want. Hoping that you'll put effort into me, and show me, and only me, the love that you claim is already imbedded in your heart.

[completelyordinarycat]

The whole time I was writing my fanfic I was like Geeze! it is getting harder and harder for me to do spelling and grammar, and I am sometimes entirely blind to misspellings and missing words in sentences. I guess it’s just writing a long story that’s doing it!

Anyway, turns out my body is producing too much fluid and my brain has been literally been getting increasingly squished for the last six months

[katapunberbicara]

In between subconsciousness and awareness

[1] How we deal with irregularity and uncertainty: looking for the pattern

We are human afraid of something not regulated. Even though God had created universe in orders, there are still amount of irregularity that still unknown. We are afraid of the things we’ve never known and the concept we’ve never heard that throughout our life, we try to find answers to have better understanding.

Our brain has been processing thousands data going on around us and from further place. Hence, we may think that we know everything in the world. From the scattered things we have been collected, we try to define the pattern and the formula. Like the formula explaining certain dependent variable may depend on several independent variables (although there are still constants that can not be explained by the variables we have been identified).

Like how we do research that is started by the research question, hypothesis, literature review, experiment, until the conclusion. Human is so creative that they make the phase of finding answer in such methodological way. But one thing we should be aware is sometimes we can not get the answer right away. Sometimes, it needs more couple of times the answer to come. But, we have such belief that If we have known the formula and if someday we have experienced the same situation, we may know how to deal with.

My curious brain always drives me to seek an explanation from every questions that comes up. I have a lot of questions time by time. And there are still unresolved questions around. Why things come up like this. Why she/he behaves like that. What should be done in a situation like this. Why it has been decided like that.

As the questions come, I want to know the answer. Like the researcher, I am used to do observation, interview what so called-the key person, discussion, and even read some supported literatures. It is funny how if I have been immersed in it, I would be freaking diligent to know the answer. At one point, I have ever taken the MBTI things as a tools that could help me better knowing about myself and my surroundings. If I have known myself and them personally, I would feel less-hurt and ease to deal with the things not suiting with me.

Beside the irregularity, we are afraid of the uncertainty in the future. As future is a mystery, we try find a way to foresee what will be going happen so that we could be ready embracing the uncertainty. We make several forecasts in an assumption that it will be no many different from the future. Once again, it is only our way to feel protected and secure.

I remembered very clearly how one public figure, who is the bipolar survivor, ever said that we would choose what is we more familiar with than what is better. We ought to seek the same pattern from what we have experienced, because we have known the formula: what we would gonna face, how to react. Even though we used to say better things are coming, but rather than gambling with things in the future, we naturally are more comfortable with the things we have experienced in the past (even if it has caused several pains). And it happens in autonomous mechanism.

This public figure related it with her, how the abandonment she had felt from her father since at a young age made her repeat the same pattern with her partners to feel the same abandonment she used to feel. As it happens subconsciously, so it needs awareness and consciousness to stop this repetition.

[2] From subconsciousness into awakening awareness

I was ever surprised when hearing the way my sister spoke with her close friends several months ago. They happened to have typical way of talking. Not only her and her friends, I try to reflect how I and my coworker behave the same way when talking. We used to say ‘hmmm’ unintentionally after hearing certain response. Even now I talk in a more Javanese way since most of my coworkers are Javanese. In my condition, it would be probably because I feel belonged of this group.

Some literatures explain it with term ‘unconscious mimicry’ that occurs completely outside of awareness. We tend to mimic others behaviour, mannerism, accents, then copy and normalise it into our daily habits without realising it. But, we don’t imitate everybody all the time. The one who would be imitated depends on the affiliation, closeness, and connection to the mimicker.

This unaware behaviour happens without awareness. When we feel more similar with someone, we behave in more like them. Realising that there are things that happen subconsciously, the consciousness is really matters.

The literature ever said that when it does become conscious, people tend to stop or control it immediately. When we dive deeper into it, it really explains how we should be very aware of everything we do. The things we have done probably are caused by the unconscious mimicry because we act in a pro social manner. We become the reflection of the people near us and those personality traits stick with us even if the people don’t.

And all the things we have done probably would be imitated by someone else. And the fact that we do not imitate people all the time and it depends on the closeness with the mimicker, I think we should be fully aware of whom we close with or whom we have spent the time most. But, believe me whatever condition we are in, we always have option and ability whether to control or let things occur.

Central Jakarta, 12th January 2023 | ©Hairatunnisa

[givefangapuppy]

Catching up, cause we're already at day 8!

Day 1 - Where did you find OFMD?

Literally was like, casually hearing my friends talk about it being funny, and heard that Murray from fotc was in it and it was a little gay, so decided to give it a try...those friends now regret adding me to their pirate show group chat bc I have absolutely taken over and am by far the biggest brain rot victim in our circle 🤣

Day 2 - First impression of OFMD

I thought it was brilliant and funny and charming right away, I fell instantly in love with Lucius. I don't understand the people who didn't like it til Taika turned up. Although I will say, Taika's first full ep is the one that made me actually start to turn feral...that moment where he's talking about Stede's "frilly shirts", I remember being so braced for the usual casual anti-femme homophobia that a TV viewer my age is conditioned to expect...and then the gentle, loving, wistful way that he sighs "and *summer linens*"...that's when I knew I was truly watching something new and special.

Day 3 - First OFMD pic in my gallery

My reaction to being added to the group chat I was about to annex:

Day 4 - Reasons why you like OFMD

I could write a novel-length post here about how it's so smart, so gay, so about middle aged folks finding their way...about how it's precisely my favourite kind of humor, and the production design and thematic choices are endlessly analyzable...but maybe I'll just leave you with Rosiee Thor's perfect encapsulation of my feelings:

Day 5 - Fave main character

Ed. It's so Ed for me. The journey he's on from a life where he has had to be tough and independent and not need anyone because he thinks that's what it takes to survive, to a life where he can let himself express love and accept it back, just makes me want to weep with affinity. Also he's hot as shit.

Day 6 - Fave supporting character

Lucius. Nathan Foad's FACE y'all. And since my post about his expression journey in EP 1 as he realizes Stede is the victim of bullies is one of my all time most popular posts on here I think it's safe to say I'm not alone.

Day 7 - Songs that remind you of your fave characters

My OFMD playlist is a lot of stuff I think works for the whole Ed/Stede relationship, but it has a LOT of Ed coded content... in particular "Half a Man" by America, "Bulletproof" by La Roux, and "BOOM" by X Ambassadors. Also I still really want to get around to making an Ed POV video to "Crush" by Tessa Violet

Day 8 - Underrated Character

Oluwande. However much love we've been giving him, he deserves more.

[mypoisonedvine]

It’s Always The Quiet Ones... | college AU dark!Peter Parker x (slightly)naive!reader

for @nsfwsebbie​​‘s dream fic challenge, I was assigned to write something for @harryspet​​ which was vv exciting bc I love her stuff ;-; no pressure right? lol (also thank you to @evnscvll​​ for being my proofreader, sounding board, and partner for some very strange texting for the purpose of screenshots!)

Here is the prompt I got: peter is a dork and is weird and quiet, and the readers friends dared her to sleep with him. turns out he was really kinky and is really good at sex. can be dark.  And hoo boy, did I run with that.  I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (it’s consensual but with dubcon undertones, manipulation, and implied coercion/dubcon at the end), stalking, blackmail, voyeurism, and general creepiness.  Oh yeah and there’s some degradation and dacryphilia in there for good measure.

You and your friends were in the middle of your daily cafeteria lunch, chatting about the same sorts of small talk you always did.  

“Oh god, it’s that weird guy from class!” Jackie blurted out suddenly around a mouthful of fries, pulling you out of the conversation you’d been having.  Everyone at the table whipped around and your eyes went wide. 

“Come on, don’t look all at once,” you hissed.  

“Who is this guy?” Cody asked, looking around with confusion.

“The guy in the blue hoodie over there,” Jackie answered, motioning toward him with her head.  It was Peter, setting down his tray of food and opening up his laptop, putting earbuds in.  He was pretty much always on his laptop, it seemed like.  He took a bite of his pizza before getting back to whatever he was working on.

“He looks normal, or normal-ish,” Mia shrugged.  

“No, no, you don’t get it,” you shook your head.  “We have him in Computational Physics on Tuesdays and Thursdays--”

“Plus Friday lab,” Jackie interjected.

“--and he’s… kinda…”

“Creepy,” Jackie concluded.

“No,” you denied, “not creepy.  He’s just… a bit awkward, I guess.”

“And he stares at you, like, the entire time we’re in class.  But won’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mia agreed with a shudder.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s kinda… sweet, maybe?  I mean, he’s just shy, right?”

“Oh my god you are such a slag!” Jackie teased, shoving you on the shoulder.  “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No!” you denied with wide eyes.  

“You’re just into the attention,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“I mean, it’s kind of flattering, isn’t it?” you admitted.  Jackie laughed.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” she decided.

“Nooooooooo, no way,” you shake your head.

“I kinda wanna see this,” Cody smirks.

“Literally just go over there and flirt with him, his head would explode,” Jackie suggested excitedly.

“I don’t even know how to flirt,” you chuckled.

“So you’re considering it!” Mia accused.

“I didn’t say that!” you squeaked.

“Pleeeeeease,” Jackie whined playfully.  “It’ll be funny.”

“I don’t usually sleep with people for comedic effect.”

“I’ll chip in $20 if you do it,” she offered immediately.  She turned to the rest of the table, “come on guys, we need to pool together and make her do it.”

“I’ve only got a ten,” Cody mumbled, pulling it out slowly before Jackie snatched it away.

“Okay, $30, who can make it $50?”

“Jackie, calm down,” you hissed.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t sleep with him for $50?  He’s cute!”

“I have $35 and 67 cents,” Mia counted, shuffling through her wallet.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

“Just do it, for me,” Jackie said, suddenly sounding oddly serious.  You didn’t understand why it mattered so much, but you decided it couldn’t be that bad if you just did it.

“Fine, fine, just shut up and don’t stare at us,” you instructed, getting up to a ruckus of cheers.  You didn’t even take the money.

You walked across the cafeteria, messenger bag slung over your shoulder, and hoped you wouldn’t totally make an idiot of yourself.  If you hadn’t already just by talking to a guy over a dare.

He didn’t seem to notice you when you stood by his table, still focusing on his computer.

“Um, hey,” you waved, and Peter looked up at you as he took out his earbuds.

“Hi,” he replied quickly.

“What… what are you working on?” you asked, motioning to the laptop.  He didn’t stop looking at you, and he didn’t say anything.  “I… we have comp together?  You know who I am, right?”

“O-of course I do!” he suddenly perked up.  “Yeah, I just…” he trailed off and turned to his laptop.  “I was just working on this model.”

“Can I take a look?” 

He smiled a little, and moved his backpack out of the seat next to him.  “Go ahead!”

You sat down and leaned in to look at his screen.  

“It’s-- it’s not finished but, basically I just put the kinetic energy of an object on the x-axis, the potential energy on the y-axis--” 

You used the laptop’s touch screen to move the model around, impressed with his work.  “And the z-axis is the conservation of energy for work done on an object,” you finished.  

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” he nodded.

“It’s beautiful!” you realized, appreciating the variety of colors as each data point was suspended in the graph.  

“Do you do any modeling?” he asked you, and for a hot second it felt like a line.

“Um,” you laughed, “no, not much at least.  Nothing extracurricular.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more into abstract math, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled.  “Oh, you’re one of those.”

You laughed, shoving him on the shoulder playfully, but regretting it as you saw his smile drop a bit.  “People are so judgmental about abstract math, as if it isn’t the study of the founding principles of mathematics.”

“So you think adding a pineapple and a banana is the foundation of mathematics?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, there’s so much more to abstract mathematics than weird variables,” you frowned.  “Like basic functions on matrices!  Don’t act like it isn’t dope as fuck to add, subtract, multiply and divide matrices.  If you saw my whiteboard in my dorm you would understand.”

“If I had a whiteboard now I could prove to you that abstract math is overrated,” he countered.

“I’d love to see you try,” you scoffed.  You hadn’t really meant it literally.  

“I don’t have anything for the rest of the day,” he shrugged.  It took you a moment to realize he was suggesting to actually come to your room and talk about math.  You weren’t sure if that was even what would happen if you went back to your dorm…

You opened your mouth to say that you were busy, that you couldn’t, that you shouldn’t, so you were a little surprised when you heard yourself say “sure” instead.

And that was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen counter with Peter Parker between your legs, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

It sort of happened all at once.  He just grabbed you and you were confused but went with it, because life is short and he was cute and his hands felt unexpectedly wonderful as they gripped your back.

You gasped a bit when he started to pull your shirt over your head but he didn’t slow down, quickly removing his own-- oh, hello there six-pack, nice to meet you-- kissing you again as he wrapped his hands around your waist and slid you off the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips.  He carried you to the bedroom with unexpected grace; he was so much stronger than he looked.  And he looked different than he ever had before as he tossed you down onto your bed and started to kiss his way down your abdomen while his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh god, Peter!” you yelped as he kissed along your thighs, pulling down your shorts and underwear and tossing them to the side.

“Say my name again,” he demanded before instantly latching onto your clit, sucking and licking directly onto the bundle of nerves.

And you really had no choice in the matter, his name pouring from your lips over and over, accentuated with a yelp as he shoved two fingers into you, finding and massaging your g-spot before you could even process everything you were feeling.

“Oh my god, fuck, Peter!” you hissed, your head falling back onto the mattress so hard it bounced a little.

You were barreling towards an orgasm faster than you probably ever had before.  This was nothing like the few other hook-ups you’d had since starting college-- it wasn’t even like the times you’d been alone with your hand or a vibrator.  This was like an assault on the senses, so powerful that you couldn’t even really keep track of the sounds you were making or anything that wasn’t his mouth on you and his fingers in you.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m gonna come don’t stop please--” you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense.  How could you be expected to form a sentence in these conditions?

Thankfully, he didn’t stop.  He kept lapping at your clit as if he hadn’t even noticed your pleading, his fingers twisting inside you even as your walls clenched so tightly around them that it became difficult to keep up the pace.  Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face, your legs quivered as he refused to give you any reprieve from the sensation, but he kept going.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck Peter I can’t-- it’s too much-- oh god,” you babbled, but it fell on deaf ears.  A small part of your brain was confused why he wouldn’t stop-- you hadn’t told him outright to stop but it was kind of implied, right?  Wasn’t it some amount of not okay that he was still going?  It made your gut sink in a way that was equal parts disturbing and erotic.  

You were trying to pull away but his arms wrapped around your thighs and held you down.  God, he was strong.  He looked kind of skinny in those hoodies he was usually wearing, but now that he was actually exerting some force he was clearly muscular.  You felt helpless and it, oddly enough, turned you on.

“Peter, please, oh my god, slow down I-- I can’t take any more,” you whimpered; your voice came out all high-pitched and squeaky and it would’ve been embarrassing if you had enough brainpower left to care.  

He groaned against your skin but said nothing, using his teeth to lightly graze your clit.  Your whole body jerked at that, a sob tearing from your lips suddenly.  It felt like you were past the point of orgasm now and just lost in some sort of aggressively intense world of pleasure-- it neared pain, really.  You had never been pushed to your limits like this; you hadn’t even realized that there were limits which one could be pushed to this way!  It was exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming.  You fought tears from forming because it would be so embarrassing to cry right now, and he would probably freak out and think you were hurt or something… maybe you were hurt, you couldn’t even tell at this point.  But at this point, it was unstoppable.  You were fucking crying from the overstimulation and he hadn’t even put his cock in you yet.  Your face was so hot that your own tears felt cool as they poured down your cheeks.

Finally, he stopped when he heard your sobs.  But instead of concern or fear or confusion, his expression was simply joy.

“Oh, you look so cute when you cry,” he cooed, sliding back up your body to kiss your tears away as they fell.  Then he kissed your mouth, open and sloppy and aggressive, and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your head spin.

Before you could collect your thoughts, he pulled back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers-- fuck, he was big.  

“You’re too kind,” he grinned, discarding the clothes and stroking his cock a few times.

You hadn’t realized you had said it out loud, and you felt a little nervous but then he was on you again, kissing you roughly and forcing his tongue into your mouth.  You felt him reaching down, gripping his cock and rubbing it through your folds.  You were soaked, and swollen, and nearly sore.  Every time the tip slid over your clit, you jumped a little.

He pushed into you ever so slightly, moving the head of his cock inside you and nothing more.  You whined with confusion and anticipation, but he continued on teasing you.

“Please,” you whimpered into his kiss.

He pulled back and looked down at you, his eyes blown so wide that they looked like they’d gone black.  “What was that?” he asked, and you sighed because you knew he could hear you the first time.

“Please, Peter,” you repeated, louder, “I need more.”

“More…?”

You sobbed with frustration, and desire.  “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusted forward and you groaned as his cock stretched you open.  It was like night and day, how he went from slowly teasing you to slamming into your eager walls.  You cried out and gripped at his arms, just trying to steady yourself and maybe stop your skull from whacking the headboard if possible.

“You love it, don’t you?  You love my cock,” he growled.  His voice was lower, gravelly.  He sounded like an entirely different person.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Say it,” he demanded.

No one had ever talked to you like this before and it made your cheeks burn.  “I-- I love your cock,” you stammered.  

He smiled and you hoped you’d done it right, and that he wasn’t smiling at your obvious nervousness or lack of experience.  You didn’t understand how this was normally supposed to go, because you didn’t normally hook up with people so casually-- you had just never really been interested in it.  But now that he was fucking you so hard you could barely breathe, you were starting to get the appeal.  God, your last boyfriend hadn’t even made you come in five months of dating, meanwhile five minutes with Peter had made you a sobbing mess.  Even now you were biting your lip to hold back your tears from the sheer intensity of the sensations you were experiencing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he pouted condescendingly.  “You don’t wanna cry but you can’t help it, huh?  You’re my dumb little crybaby aren’t you?”

You tried not to react to that but you knew he felt your walls clench suddenly.

“You like that?  You like being my stupid whore?”

“S-stop,” you begged weakly, feeling beyond humiliated.

“But you like it, angel, I can tell.  Don’t lie to me.”

He reached down to swirl his thumb over your clit, laughing at the way you tensed up and tried to squirm away.

“Is it too much princess?” he asked, but the nickname read less sweet and more mocking.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?  You asked me to fuck you.  Begged me.  Now you act like you can’t take it, like you’re this delicate little flower and not the dirty fucking whore I know you are.”

“I-- I’m not a whore,” you denied even as you struggled to suppress your obvious arousal from the derogatory nature of his words.  You felt a little guilty for being into it, and slightly insulted, but fuck if it didn’t make your back arch and your throat dry and your pussy so excessively wet.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he scoffed.  “But, maybe you’re not playing.  You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

You logically knew that it was too late to deny anything he said, but you still clung onto your dignity as best you could.  “N-no!”

“Not all the time, just when you’re wet.  Isn’t that right?  You get so desperate for cock and you don’t wanna be smart, you just wanna be somebody’s brainless fuckdoll.”

That sounded so appealing in some forbidden, filthy way and all of a sudden you were going to come again, any second now.

“Yes!” you nearly screamed, falling into your pleasure.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he encouraged, “come for me.”

You didn’t even sound like yourself with the noises you made, or maybe it was just that you’d never had the chance to make noises like that before.  Either way, your orgasm crashed through you and nearly punched the air out of your lungs.  Your toes went numb.  You didn’t even know that could happen.  And most important of all, your walls tensed and fluttered so hard that he began moaning into your ear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come inside you.”  You couldn’t tell if it was a warning, like he was asking permission, or if he was just informing you of his intentions which you would be powerless to stop even if you told him not to.  You didn’t have to find out because you were on the pill, but it made you realize all too suddenly that you should’ve had him put on a condom-- how could you have forgotten?

His moans turned hoarse and with a growl and a tightened grip on your hips, he spilled deep in you, coating your walls as his length flexed and twitched inside you.  For a moment you were just stuck like that, his weight holding you down as he caught his breath, and finally he rolled to the side and you could breathe cool air again.

“That was…” he began but trailed off, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder.  “You’re amazing.”

It was quite the shift from how he had been talking before.  It was comforting, but you were still a little confused.  “Really?”

He laughed softly.  “Did you not notice?  God, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

You were curious about where he was going with that, but then he suddenly sat up.

“Do you want some water?” he offered.

“Uh, yeah,” you smiled.  “The cups are in the cabinet just to the left of the microwave.”

He nodded and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the bed, slipping his boxers on over his still-hard cock which was now coated in your come and his, and dashing out of the room.

You were mostly content to just lay there, although you felt uncharacteristically sore between your legs, and quite… sticky.  You glanced over to your whiteboard and realized he never had any intentions of talking with you about abstract math.  Was this just a one-time thing, or was he going to come back and ask you out?  Were you boyfriend and girlfriend now?  Or were you just a clueless romantic who thought that sleeping together meant more than it really did?

You rolled over and saw Peter’s phone resting on the bedside table.  He must have set it there when he was stripping quickly while you two had been making out-- or that’s what you were pretty sure the order of events had been, it had all happened so fast…

At that exact moment, the screen lit up with a notification.  You were about to roll back and not look at all, until you got a glimpse of the words.

PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14

You furrowed your brow.  It looked like an alert for an upcoming class, except that this was your class, the one you had with him, and it wasn’t until tomorrow.  No assignments due today, either.  And what was with the row/seat thing?  Peter didn’t sit in the third row… you did.

You picked up the phone just enough to angle it to see the rest of the notification.  It wasn’t a calendar alert; it was a text message.  “PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14” was the contact name.  You could only get a preview of the message…

okay, it’s done isn’t it?  can you please delete those pic….

You were curious, or maybe just concerned.  Was the seat number supposed to be the person texting him?  How were you supposed to keep track of who sat where to know who it was?

It had to be somebody from your row, but it was just you, Jackie, and a bunch of random dudes that Peter had never seemed to have any interaction with.

You assumed you wouldn’t be able to unlock the phone to even try to snoop, which you didn’t want to do anyways, but when you slid your thumb over the screen, you gasped when it opened straight to the conversation.  Who didn’t put a password on their phone?

okay, it’s done isn’t it?  can you please delete those pictures now?  I did what you asked.  I won’t tell anyone.  just send me proof that the photos are gone, please.

You felt a little sick.  You had no idea what this meant but it scared you.  You saw the conversation from before but it didn’t make any sense.  You scrolled back up to try to figure out what they were talking about and gasped when you saw a picture Peter had sent to the contact.

It was Jackie.  But she wasn’t alone.  She was on her knees in the lab room, and you gagged when you realized what she was doing-- or really, who she was doing it to.  

She’d told you she had a casual thing with a new guy but refused to say who it was.  You realized why now.  She was fucking your professor, and you just knew she was doing it to get a better grade.  You had been trying to figure out how she was earning higher marks than you but never seemed to be able to discuss the class material.  It all made sense now, but it wasn’t a comforting feeling.

You scrolled down a bit to see the conversation after the photo, and your blood went cold as you read it.

You saw several more messages but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of it.  You knew everything you needed to know.

You weren’t sure what inspired you to open his camera roll… of course you wouldn’t find anything comforting there.  But you had to see for yourself.

It was just a list of folders, so many you could keep scrolling for ages.  Each had a label and a thumbnail image.

The thumbnail of Jackie on her knees jumped out first.  PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14.  45 images.

A girl in a lacy bra posing for the camera.  PHYS 509, row 1, seat 8.  12 images.

Two girls making out in a crowded room, holding red solo cups.  ENGL 104, row 12, seat 5.  6 images.

A nude selfie in front of a mirror.  PHIL 108, row 2, seat 2.  14 images.

And then the one that made your heart stop.  It was a picture of you in a bikini, taken by a friend on spring break.  PHYS 507, row 3, seat 13.  1 image.

The second you jumped up, dropping the phone, he was there with your promised glass of water in hand.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently.  Just a second of silence was enough for him to pick up his phone from the floor and realize what had happened with a grin.  “Oh, that,” he sighed, slipping it into his pocket after looking down at it with a sort of loving look, like he was proud of his work.  “I suppose it’s my fault for leaving my phone right there, without a password, knowing I would get a text from Jackie any minute.”

“You wanted me to see it,” you grimaced, “you wanted me to see what you did to my friend.  What you did to all those girls.”

“I didn’t do anything.  They do all the heavy lifting, I just hack them and get pictures of it.  Or, in your friend’s case, I hack them, find out they’re fucking the professor, and follow them to their next rendezvous.”

“You’re fucking sick,” you spat, and he just shrugged.  “You’d better delete those photos of Jackie.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he soothed.  “It’s a shame though, she was pretty prolific.  You, on the other hand, you’re a good girl.  You even had pretty good security, I respect that.  Here’s a tip: your ISP creates the intranet that your wireless webcam uses to connect to your laptop.  It’s password protected, but it defaults to your phone number, and most people never change it.  Including yourself.”

You shivered.  “You watched me with it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to since you didn’t have any good photos of yourself.  And you do a decent job of erasing your porn history… but not a perfect job.  You watch some interesting stuff.  And you look so hot with your hand stuffed in your panties, rubbing yourself to whatever nasty shit you’re watching...”

“Shut up,” you demanded, covering your ears, “stop, please.  This is so fucked up.”

He laughed a little.  “You look better in person though.  A webcam could never capture how perfect you look when you come.”

“Please just stop,” you sobbed.

“Stop what?  I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I should’ve listened to my friends.  You’re a freak.”

“Hmm, you seemed to like it before.”

“Just delete those pictures of Jackie… and let me go…” you seethed.

“I will,” he promised.  “But, I need something to make up for the loss of some great spank bank material.”

You felt sick.  But what else was new?

“I need to finally get some good pictures of you.  Come on, isn’t it sad that your folder is so empty?” he pouted, pulling the phone back out from his pocket. “I could ruin a lot of lives with these folders.  Just let me take a few photos and you can spare them all the humiliation.  Nothing I haven’t seen you do before.”

You really really wanted to just deck him, but you knew he could probably release those photos with just one push of a button.  He was prepared.

“Don’t post them,” you pleaded.

“You’ll be good?”

You clenched your jaw.  “I’ll be good,” you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, “such a sweet girl you are.  Helping out your friend even after she threw you into the lion’s den to protect her secret.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way.  A pit formed in your stomach.

“Now come over here and get on your knees,” he grinned, turning on the camera.    

[catgirl-catboy]

I love Sonia too but I agree.. And I was tend to like Soniaki more because the chapter 5 rebuttal give Sonia a great relevance.

But Gundam acting like Sparkling Justice to impress Sonia? I would find it funny and if Kazuichi calls him out for it, it could be a great humour too.

I love Peko too, my girl get therapy, pet some rabbits. It will be good and one thing too because that shit joke they made.

What do you think about Nekomaru? I read you see him and Nagito as foils and I love Nagito to the death soo

Yeah. From what little we got of Sondam, it was shaping up to be a really enjoyable romance plot. I wish Kodaka didn't have Kazuichi simping for Sonia and Sonia's narrative passivity get in the way of it.

This is not to say I'm anti Kazuichi simping. It makes sense for his character, and the fandom flanderizes him for it so hard! :( I think that perhaps he could have chosen a different target, like Mahiru, Mikan, or Chiaki.

If Kodaka picked Mahiru as the target, Kazuichi would be forced into performing masculinity in a way that's just NOT him. It'd also only last 2 chapters and would be less stale.

Mikan would work for a more comedic angle. (Hiyoko voice:) "Ewww Kazuichi get you're eyes checked.)

Chiaki would have made sense, because everyone puts her on a pedestal, Kaz would just be the most obvious about it. I also don't think she'd mind, because it might help her redeem him. Also gamer girl simps are a real thing and everyone knows one.

I think they could have made Kazuichi simping for Sonia work if Sonia felt conflicted about the whole thing. "As a princess, I should be used to this. As a person, he is ruining my chances with Gundam >:(" but Sonia's arc is both too cluttered and not busy enough. Shit just happens to her.

With that probably uninteresting tangent out of the way. (my target audience for the daily DR tedtalk is me, I am so sorry.)

Nekomaru is such a good concept: "Nagito, but healthy coping mechanisms. He does what Nagito wants to do, but fails spectacularly at."

Also, tangent: really important headcanon to me. Nekomaru has Bowel issues either due to his condition, or due to medicines he has to take for his condition. (I'm not a doctor) Nobody knows this in canon, but it makes a lot of sense.

Second tangent: His design sucks ass. I do not like it.

Third tangent: I hate the name Mechamaru, so I will not be using it. Like Gundam, Nekomaru's name is really important to him, and I don't like the (percived, possibly entirely in my head) implication that his robotification changed something key about himself like his name.

I feel like he really suffers from the fact that you don't get his life story unless you play his FTEs. I know thats how the series works most of the time, but it doesn't make sense from a character perspective. Dude overshares everything, there's no way he wouldn't mention his heart condition at least once nonchalantly.

Like: "Teruteru, can you skimp on the beef for my portion? The doctor recommends it for my heart health!"

Or: "Sorry Akane! I can't spar with you at the moment! Coach's gotta do his doctor-mandated 30 minute break in between strenuous activities."

I also feel like as a disabled person, ch4 was a missed opportunity to dissect the trope of curing disabilities and just disabilities in general. From Nekomaru's POV (he doesn't know this is fake!) Monokuma just extended his life, only to continue trying to cut it short. However, his body is now changed beyond recognition, and he now has a completely different set of limits he isn't used to.

If I were in charge of writing (aka the elaborate rewrite that only exists inside mya brain) I'd have Nagito volunteer to be killed in just your average Nagito move. But then, I'd have him mention that since he's going to die anyway, his life is less valuable than the others.

This would really set Nekomaru off. He'd tell Nagito to stop that negative self-talk, since it affects others to! By saying that, he's implying that his life is less valuable since he was going to die young. That he knows his life has just as much meaning as everyone else's, but chose to give it up for Akane anyways.

If you really want to comment on complex issues, maybe bring in Fuyuhiko's recent vision loss and that he's struggling with it.

Nagito's so high on copium that the point flies right over his fluffy little head.

I'd imagine the rest of Ch4 proceeds as normal.

I also feel like it was a missed opportunity to have Nekomaru be absent for Ch3 specifically, when he could have been absent for Ch2, where he had little plot relevance. He's spent his life in the hospital, he's a natural pick for hospital staff alongside Hajime and Fuyuhiko. Its also sad that despite his relationship with Akane (which I really like, actually!), he never actually see's her hidden depths onscreen or her at her lowest.

Imagine the drama. :)

[petewentzisblack1312]

I LOVE SomeMoreNews. In high school in 2016-2018 I was very right wing/libertarian and I used to listen to Jordan Peterson, Dave Rubin, Blaire White, Paul Joseph Watson etc and idk I had an exacerbation of my mental health, I dated an incel and broke up with him (it’s a very long story I won’t bore you with), and then covid happened and I went to nursing school and I started questioning everything that I was told those few years. I mean I was young and impressionable and suppressing my sexuality and trying so hard to be a pick-me-girl which led me to be very angry and that’s how I think I ended up in that sphere of things. ANYWAY SomeMoreNews is very much to thank to bringing me to the left. During quarantine I watched EVERYTHING they put out and idk it really helped me realize where I was wrong. Plus it’s fucking funny and Cody’s delivery is amazing. Idk I just really love them.

Jordan Peterson for me was the one that was very hard to let go of because his self help stuff is… adequate, as Cody says, like it’s generic psychology stuff and like you should expect him to be adequate to even good at psychology since he has a PhD in the topic. It helped me during high school and I really took the book and his lectures to heart but I remember watching that clip that they put in the video where Jordan was hesitant to express support for gay marriage and idk… as a 16 year old girl questioning her sexuality who already didn’t have supportive parents it was so hard to hear from someone I looked up to but I swallowed it down and kept watching him and supporting him. Idk. It was very hard and painful during that time and as a leftist now I just feel healthier because I don’t have to constantly compromise my identity and I’m not as angry at myself for things I can’t control. Anyway. SomeMoreNews is amazing and the episode on jordan was 100/10. I recommend it to everybody now.

i am very very glad to hear that you feel healthier now. like thats the most important thing to me in this whole ask, that youre doing better. im glad some more news was a boon to you. im also glad you got something out of petersons self help, but im sorry you fell down the rabbithole of the rest of petersons whole deal, and im sorry you had to experience his weird conditional homophobia. ultimately, im happy youre healthier and happier now!

also smn is genuinely very funny. i love codys delivery of virtually everything, like hes so expressive in the dryest possible way. love to see what new and exciting ways cody k johnston says "Fair and Balanced™©®" i really liked the jordan peterson episode as evidenced by me finding the time to watch it twice in two days. then again maybe thats just my weirdo ritual of watching some more news episodes over and over ad infinitum. theyre very good at deconstructing the rhetorical tricks different grifters use, which is really helpful for learning how to combat them just generally. theyre not the only ones who do this but i like the way they go about doing so. its just easier for my brain to grab onto after a couple watches. after watching their jordan peterson video and hearing them dissect how dr lobster tries to sell himself as a man without ideology i felt like i had enough context to rewatch abby thorne of philosophy tubes video on jorbson b porbsons ideology. it helps that smn plays clips of what theyre talking about and then breaks them down i think?

obviously a throughline in a lot of right wing grifters rhetoric is that they start with their feeling and justify it with cherry picked 'facts', which helps me understand that conservatism is an ideology based on pathos, and that that is the front you should probably argue on if you want to change minds. seeing it deconstructed over and over again in different examples really makes it easier to identify. it really goes to show you that the best way to change someones mind isnt by playing their game but arguing on a completely different front.

i will say something i noticed is that they do a fair bit of "im inside your walls and can see you" type humor so if thats triggering for you id be mindful. its normally throwaway jokes so that may be better or worse for you.