#I don't feel like tagging them individually. so I'm not going to

[quantomeno]

I have been trying to find the article or opinion piece or whatever I read that discussed this, but this appears to be a significant issue with all left-leaning governments. If you'll forgive the gendered language:

Political analysts have long considered these three fields – managing the finances, managing the economy, and defence – to represent the “daddy” aspects of national political persona, traditionally dominated by centre-right parties the world over. The centre-left parties have been seen to excel in the more “caring” fields of health and education: the “mummy” aspect.

(from here, an opinion piece in the Sydney Morning Herald, which I don't think was exactly the thing I was looking for, but it's the same idea more or less)

People in the tags have noted this occurs with the Tories/Labour in the UK, and it definitely occurs in Australia with the Liberals/Labor (the Liberals are conservatives by the way, it's confusing, we know).

The problem is that people often don't 'feel' the effects of economic improvement, or they fixate on things that are still bad and think when the government is talking about improvements they're lying or think the improvements are happening to other people, probably 'coastal elites' or what we in Australia might call 'inner city latte sippers'.

Then the right can capitalise on this resentment, and even if they don't achieve their claims of making life better, people have such short memories they don't realise things have worsened. Another issue is the fact left-wing policies tend to involved bigger government involvement or significant changes to the status quo, and the right can then run scare campaigns which the left can't combat because having nuanced debates over complicated policies doesn't make snappy headlines. And you also get, as @what-even-is-this said above, the left inheriting failing economies and the right inheriting improving economies. So things often get blurred about who was responsible for what benefit, and if things are good under one government, the other will claim it was because of their actions before it etc etc.

Celinda Lake (Biden's pollster in 2020) was interviewed on the Australian TV show Planet America this week and said something very similar (it starts at 28:23), that the Democrats need a better economic message, a better 'conversation' with the voters the Democrats traditionally worked to support but who now believe the Republicans will help them more.

It is quite sad to admit, but it seems people often care more about their economic wellbeing than any other consideration. Part of it is a sort of survivalism though, where they go, yes, I would like to help xyz, but I'm struggling too.

From my position, well at a distance, I got the vibe this election was just people annoyed at the current administration and going to literally the only viable alternative, as opposed to a population shifting dramatically in their political views. I expect a lot of people don't like the guy who'll be president and don't really even want him to be president, but still voted for him because of his party. It's an electorate who has long been made to believe left bad at economy, right good at economy. Plus you guys don't have a third parties that presents itself as a viable alternative.

Elections are often decided by the political issues that the right is seen to be better at, but a lot of it is just bluff and posturing. The right can talk tough and it makes people think they're getting things done. It's not until it all unravels that people will consider the left. I've got a long discussion about Aus politics below if you want to read about it, which provides some more concrete examples of these things.

Also there are obviously other issues at play, the electorate isn't one monolith, people have individual reasons for voting etc etc etc. This is just one thing that I think was a big factor generally. Harris seemed to be too much a part of an administration they were unhappy with and people weren't convinced she would bring anything new to fix things.

Australia has two major parties, the left-wing Australian Labor Party (yes, Australian English spells it labour, but the party is US-style, it's a long story) and the right-wing Liberal Party (they are conservatives but they're called Liberals. The reason is they believe in libertarian sort of values like the free market and small government). The Liberals govern in coalition with the National Party (ostensibly the party of the farmers and rural Australians, they're more right wing than the Liberals), and so we often call them the Coalition.

(Also, Labor is red and the Liberals are blue, so our colours are opposite of US but the same as the UK. This isn't important right now but I enjoy reminding americans that their colour-coding of politics is actually not the norm)

After 11 years of Coalition government under John Howard, we elected Kevin Rudd and the Labor Party in 2007. Then the GFC happened. Labor got us through very well, relatively speaking. But K-Rudd was losing popularity so members of the Labor party decided to vote for a new leader (this wasn't an election: for any Americans out there, the prime ministership isn't an elected position, it's just the leader of the party in power and they can choose that amongst themselves). And so we got Julia Gillard, our first female PM. She narrowly won the next election, and suffered through a number of things that lowered her standing in the polls (including misogyny, but also a few broken election promises the opposition pounced on) and so before the next election they backstabbed her and reinstated Kevin, hoping the change would improve their odds. It didn't work: Labor lost to (shudder) Tony Abbott and the Coalition. I really dislike Abbott. Raw-onion-with-the-skin-on-eating Abbott. 'Suppository of all wisdom' Abbott. 'Shit happens' Abbott. Wanting-to-knight Prince-Phillip Abbott. I mean, these are just his gaffes. The less said of his politics and personality the better.

The Liberals governed for a simultaneously stagnant and tumultuous nine years. Nine years with three prime ministers being overthrown by their own party and never actually getting all that much done. Abbott, rapidly losing favourability, was replaced with Malcolm Turnbull, an erudite, moderate Liberal who was under constant attack from his government's right wing and got murdered by them at the slightest whiff of a policy that might have the vaguest of emission reduction targets (these years are known as the climate wars and they're still not really over). Turnbull gave way to Scott Morrison. Scomo went to the election with really only one major economic policy which was some tax cuts. He won. Then the pandemic happened and yeah. We went massively into debt due to the huge spending required to keep everyone afloat. I am glad the Libs did that, but it points out their hypocrisy since they had banged on and on about Labor's 'debts and deficits' (I think particularly to do with spending during the GFC) and yet had not given a single budget surplus (i.e. they had been spending more than they gained in taxes etc) in that entire 9 years. And then, when it's their turn to spend big to save the economy, they're happy to ignore debts.

Labor was led during this time by Bill Shorten, a good guy but no one really liked him, nor his 'zingers', and his policies involved a lot of reforms and changes, leaving him open to scare campaigns from the right. Labor eventually decided to shed Bill and put in Anthony Albanese. Albo ran a very small target campaign to try to neutralise the differences between him and Scomo. It was... moderately successful. Labor got into government but really, it was the Liberals who lost because we all just disliked Scotty from Marketing (he mishandled the pandemic on a number of fronts, among other crises including, but not limited to, going to Hawaii during the 2019-20 bushfires and sexual misconduct allegations involving members of his party). The 2022 federal election is a story of its own though. The point is, Labor got into power.

They have given us our first budget surplus in 15 years. A budget surplus had been hyped up by successive Liberal governments who consistently failed to deliver one. Sure, Labor is still dealing with a housing crisis, but prices had been rising under the Coalition who just twiddled their thumbs and eventually suggested the policy of allowing people spend their superannuation (it's a bit like the US 401(k): here it's compulsory for money to go into a fund which you can't access until retirement) on a house (they're still suggesting this last I heard). And inflation has been high, but it seems to be going down, and the inflation was the result of (guess what) high levels of government spending during the pandemic (combined with supply issues caused by wars and the pandemic). Labor has done a decent job of bringing the economy back on track. They've been fiscally responsible. They even rejigged Scott's tax cuts to make them better for lower-income earners. Labor is clearly on par, if not better, at handling the economy and have shown this twice in my lifetime.

But do they get any credit for this? As if!

Labor has been absolute rubbish at explaining how they're helping people. Rubbish! It's why the Voice to Parliament referendum failed, because no one explained it clearly and succinctly. I don't think it failed because people were really racist, I think they just didn't get the point of it. I mean, some of it was underlying racism and a sense of 'why do they deserve this? don't they have enough?' but that stems again from a communication issue since people don't understand how big the gap still is. (for confused non-Australians, I'm talking about the referendum to enshrine in the constitution an advisory group of Indigenous Australians who would give advice to the government about matters pertaining to First Nations issues. The referendum failed abysmally)

Labor is currently heading towards a minority government (they will be the biggest party, but won't have a proper majority in parliament and will need to deal with a crossbench of minor parties and independents). They're expected to win partly because the Liberals are becoming increasingly right-wing (they lost a lot of their moderates at the last election to independents) and the current leader of the Libs looks like Mr Potato Head and has all the warmth of Darth Vader, so they might not win the centre very easily (we have compulsory voting, so you need to be at least relatively moderate to win big). But Labor will struggle (and could still lose) because Albanese is just terrible at getting any cut-through. It's pitiful. Personally, I'd kinda like Penny Wong as PM but she'd need to resign as a senator and be elected to the house of reps, so it's highly unlikely (plus I do like her in the Foreign Affairs portfolio). I think Jim Chalmers, our current treasurer, would be a good fit. He's got twice the charm of Albo and ten times that of Peter Dutton (Darth Potatohead, the current leader of the Liberals). He's also an effective communicator and can take a lot of credit for the economy since he's the guy making the budgets. I don't necessarily think he's an amazing treasurer (he's no Paul Keating), but he's done a good job. The thing is, Labor is highly unlikely to have another leadership spill for fear of appearing unstable (they made it much harder to have a spill after the Rudd-Gillard-Rudd debacle).

And sadly, Dutton has quite a bite, and loves to rip into Labor right where it hurts: the economy and immigration.

Don't get me started on immigration... I totally skipped over it but it's been a big issue here just like in the US.

Also I am not the biggest fan of Labor after they started to shift rightwards (the whole 'neutralise issues' thing). They're a bit like the Democrats in that sense, but the situation is a little different.

It seems like there’s this cycle of republicans making the economy bad and then people get tired of the republicans and elect a democrat and the democrat inherits a bad economy and then they sort of fix it somewhat and then people are like hey the economy is bad it was better during the Republican administration and then they elect a Republican who inherits a better economy from the democrat while he’s trashing it and then people are like hey he’s trashing the economy and then they elect a democrat who inherits a bad economy and fixes it somewhat and then people are like hey the economy was better when there was a Republican and then they elect a Republican who trashes the sort of better economy he inherited from the democrat and so on and so forth like forever I guess

[casekt]

[dragondawdles]

get dragon'd IDIOTS (affectionate)

(plus dlc pack:)

[coquelicoq]

what i love about the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi of it all is that...it's not just that he's famous and therefore widely recognizable wherever he goes. like yes that is very funny because he was an exorcist before he became a famous actor, which means he CHOSE, on purpose, a day job that would make it harder to hide his double life/secret identity from the hordes of his adoring public, but it's more than that. it's not just that he's famous, it's that he's famous specifically for being an ACTOR, aka a person whose job it is to dissimulate, to make believe, to inhabit roles and emotions other than his own. like he decided he was going to become as visible as possible (which again was literally not necessary! he could have gone into any other career for his day job!!) but in such a way that everyone would see him but no one would see him - they would just see his various made-up personas, including the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi persona. i can't decide if he's a genius or if he just made so many absurd decisions that they canceled each other out and circled back around to working out. he's either playing 9-dimensional chess or he's eating the pieces. too soon to say.

[myreia]

— v. raison d'être

It was never going to last. They knew it from the beginning, all of them. Their time in the First was temporary, fleeting. For some, that would have been enough to give pause, to keep distance. For them, it made these moments all the more precious—even when it was difficult, even when it was unfair. Ryne knows they are both proud of her. That will never change, even when they live in separate worlds. It is a bittersweet thing to say goodbye, to close one chapter and begin the next. But change is necessary, a fundamental aspect of life. There is no sense in clinging to the past when the future—with all its countless possibilities—lies ahead. There is no looking back. Only forwards.

[saturnaous]

I never stop thinking about them.

SEND ME ART REQUESTS BOY

[seaweedstarshine]

Sometimes I think of Amy Pond, who grew up being called mad by those who wielded the word as a tool of exclusion and shame —

Amy Pond, who though forced into the hands of four psychiatrists, still clung to that which they called madness until those systems which elevate psychosocial conformity above humanity stripped it from her —

Amy Pond, whose imaginary friend reappeared for a single hour after twelve years and reignited that faith before disappearing for two more years —

Amy Pond, who spent those those two years under the same implicit threat ingrained in her through psychiatric violence, and thus began to believe the man who stopped the invasion was “just a madman with a box,” only for him to agree, and to also call her “mad, impossible Amy Pond,” reframing madness as non-negative for the first time in her life —

Amy Pond, who ignored the disembodied voice of her imaginary friend even as she ran away with him for real, who still lived each day with the traumatic internalization of deviancy dictated upon her by the psychiatric-industrial complex that shaped her from childhood —

Amy Pond, who wouldn't acknowledge the Doctor's voice, such that it took an Angel in her eye that was literally killing her to ensure she couldn't reality check herself —

Amy Pond, who stood before a room which muttered about “the psychiatrists we brought her to,” and though afraid, escaped their rigid parameters of acceptable existence.

[yuseirra]

if there's one thing I personally focus on when I draw something, it would be the emotions. I try to convey the exact emotions of a character when I make art, and portray how they'd be feeling at that exact situation, as they say something, and so on...

I try to feel the same feelings they would when I draw an expression, as close as I can get at least, it's what I do over and over. You don't really have to do that ofc, but for me, it's a huge part of the point and it's really fun to do! It's what I believe could give my drawings more life and make them more genuine, even if it's a sketch (in fact, sometimes sketches can be more powerful on that aspect so I used to stick to drawing exclusively those for a very long time). That's how I pour my heart in, and I'm sure a lot of artists would do the same in their own ways when they create their works.

For that same reason, I really like drawing smiles (and characters that can make genuine ones) because that makes me happy. Other feelings are cool, too, but drawing happy art is so soothing, so I draw a lot of smiles!! It's also why I feel the need to understand a character, because you can't exactly feel what they'd be feeling unless you aren't so aware of what they're going through. I wouldn't be entirely right, I'm sure, but I really want to try. It's maybe why I usually stick to drawing a select few characters from a series all the time, because there are some characters I "get" better than others, and feel I can bring out better(and most of the time, luckily, those kinds of characters end up to be my favs, so I can draw then alot ;v;) Then again, I'm seeing them through my own lens of thinking, I'm just putting out what I see in those characters in the end. But it's usually the good things I love! Or something I feel is really intriguing and want to think about, or want to explore on, emphasize? Anyhow, it's the feelings and emotions part I've always been interested about! So I hope I can do that well!

My drawings aren't perfect, but they aren't too bad either, and I've been trying all the way. If they could imbue some sort of feeling for you, that's definitely what I wanted to accomplish! It makes me so excited when I get feedbacks about it being able to make someone "feel" something.. it means what I wanted got across so I'm like "yes"!!

it'd be nice if they will feel genuine one way or another!! I was and is and will be happy to continue to share my works with you all

[brittlebutch]

finally found a place to read With the Light online and i'm thrilled; if you haven't read this manga i do Legitimately recommend it

[seventh-district]

Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

-------

[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[taps mic] wings are to black mages as tails are to genomes, they're just axolotls about it

[burinazar]

under the cut, many words of an Ebil pondering whether it’s writing Wazukyan well or might be flanderizing the character by making him Care Too Much, in an attempt to overcompensate against readings where he Doesn’t Care At all:

i spent most of my initial viewing of s2 not particularly trying to understand what Wazukyan was 'really up to' as far as the motivations behind his actions bc i was too busy worrying about The Other Two Sages (as points of comparisons, i loved Vueko from episode one and liked Belaf from the same point but didn’t glom on to him SO hard until after ep7/8 and now I love them both so excessively much that it’s ridiculous.) But after finishing it and looking at the story as a whole it became clear analysis of that character was really rewarding in the context of the other ones i already liked, and now that i have/do try to put effort into 'getting’ him and became more interested in depicting the character as a result...lately I’ve become concerned that I risk adding to Boring Silly Readings Of Him. 

there’s two interpretation that i think are not very interesting: ‘common fan take #1: he’s completely ruthless and uncaring, gives zero craps about Vueko, Belaf, Irumyuui, and likely the rest of the Ganja-tai, and only prioritizes his own wish to continue the journey’ (because this is simply not that interesting to think about and risks turning him into Bondrewd 2.0; though i also feel it is contradicted by some canon, but there is room for discussion there. feel free to throw an ask or message my way if this piques your interest or you’d like to Argue Politely over it) and ‘common fan take #2: LOL Wazuchad did Literally Nothing Wrong’ (this is mostly an attitude thing, and is distinct from ‘after consideration of the situation I personally believe his actions were justified’ or something. what i mean is people who meme about ‘Wazuchad’ are generally sweeping away the idea that there might have been any moral consideration to make at all and that is, again, boring. the entire arcs of all four characters (five actually, Fau too) fall apart as compelling if you aren’t even willing to consider the questions involved or accord any validity to not wanting Irumyuui to suffer.) 

Readings i think are interesting tend to deviate from both of these either a little or a lot by adding complexity to how one views his goals, actions, and motivations, so that even if they may still land in the general category of ‘bad guy and did an indefensibly bad thing’ or ‘not a bad guy, did a bad thing but for compelling and human reasons’, he hasn’t been totally condemned or totally absolved on the way to either conclusion. Both of the flatter readings obfuscate the possibility he harbored genuine fondness for the other characters, and that’s what I want to push back on. I especially like thinking he cared about them a lot but this was counterbalanced by the need to save the rest of the crew (I always bring this up but it’s way too easy to forget 90% of the Ganja were already dead and drowned when they hit the Abyss, he can’t not have had thoughts about that?) and, of course, also his own ambition and desire (and yet in my reading his ambition was directly linked to the idea of a home for his people, not merely himself; the sense of homesickness and desire to journey on that Wazukyan articulates seems to be thematically linked to all of the characters in Ganja and be a cousin to the desire to see what’s at the bottom of the Abyss that most of the entire show’s cast feels). It’s complicated and sad and great. 

BUT LIKE. 

i’m afraid of accidentally creating  ‘boring reductivist fanon #3′ if my depiction accords TOO charitable an interpretation to the guy and paints too rosy a picture of how much he cared about the others. 

Like am I going too far in the other direction when I make him goofy and silly and a bit bumbling and genuinely caring, especially if I haven’t written all caps front and center in the same piece of fanwork that I understand the character has notably dark aspects to his actions and interactions with the others and the grim things his choices and his influence on them others’ choices ultimately lead to?

i don’t want to erase that he did stuff that makes your blood run cold, I just think it’s compelling to read the character as someone who did that while being very human and caring a lot about the others in the situation, because that’s a lot more interesting. I’m wrestling with this bc in the thing I want to finish next Vueko is thinking about how he was like a surrogate guardian to her at points in her life, and since it’s Vueko she obviously hasn’t forgotten anything he did towards the end of their time together and what it meant for her and her family and that comes up directly afterwards but I feel like someone could think ‘what is this story even doing, what is this apologism and flattening of Waz into some kind of friendly grandpa’. As much as I don’t want to see people Bondrewd him or Wazuchad him, I don’t want to Friendly Bumbling Grandpa him, which risks being boring and reductive in its own way. Alright that’s all, just wanted to ramble, input and comments from other san ken likers welcome tho.

[nighthawkes]

9 people to get to know better

tagged by @froggierboy :)

last song: Super Reflector by the Technicolors

currently watching: Adventure Time and It's Always Sunny

currently reading: Nona the Ninth and Red Dragon

current obsession: J. C. Leyendecker

tagging: @jewishbookwyrm, @me-sorta, @emeraldyke, @sarcastic-clapping, @beemotifs, @whimsigod, @metonymph, @holochromatic, @orangejuice-fiction

[diabeticgirl4]

"You know I'm in love with you, right?" Oh jeez it's just as (if not more) weird and awkward as it was in canon

[wildandmoody]

Once again got wurk on the weekend and it all has to do with selling to ppl and im ironically just rotting here thinking abt how much I hate people lmao

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist here

Word Count: 470+, 900+, 1,200+, 900+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Kid, Killer, Heat

Warnings: wet dreams, gn!reader (penetration-reader!receiving), swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader', headcanons, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: This is the Kid-Pirates version of the original Heart-Pirate fic. @jintaka-hane asked for it, @nerium-lil and I needed it. I love these guys. Please read the warnings. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @indydonuts @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @carrotsunshine

“Please, don't stop. Don't stop!” You sobbed in desperation, the feeling of his thrusting causing tears to spill from your eyes in ecstacy. You writhed as he sheathed himself deep within your stomach, overcome by his brutal rapidity in using your body to chase his own high.

He tugged at your hair, pounding you from behind while he anchored his chin into your neck. Turning his head, he gnawed at your shoulder with a deep, purple bite, prompting you to cry out his name as he kept bullying that sweet spot deep within you. He tugged harder on your hair, looking into your face from behind and witnessing its contortion in pleasure.

“Please, please,” you whined his name, in a begging chant, “Please cum in me. Use my body for your pleasure. I n-need it.” His eyes rolled back, tightening his hold on your waist and digging his nails into your hair. He immediately barked out a string of curses, spilling his hot cum deep within you with a soft chant of your name.

The contractions of your body fluttering around his throbbing cock prompted him to cry your name and chase his high with more intentional snaps of his hips. His hot spurts splash up within you as he molded your body to the shape of his throbbing cock.

“Nnghm, you f-fucking feel that?” he growled, his brows furrowing as he pressed his hand on your stomach to feel the tip of his cock deep in you, “I’m cumming so fucking deep. I'm-... fuck, hnmh-... I'm cumming.” You mewled for him, throwing your head back on his shoulder and rocked yourself on him.

“Yes. F-Fuck, yes. Keep going,” The spectral, dream-like image of your body crying for him branded itself into his memories. He couldn’t get enough, his eyes glazing over as he witnessed you take his entire, heavy load deep within you.

The yelp of his name, the dopey smile on your lips, and body glistening in a soft dew of pleasure had him chasing your high and over stimulating his thick cock buried within you. He pummeled himself deeper, huffing and panting before feeling a sense of pride at feeling you clench around him as you cum for him.

“Ahh, f-f-fuck,” he barked, shooting the few final spurts of his release into you before the image dissipated and was shrouded in murky shadow.

His eyes snapped open, looking down to his stomach as he witnessed the damp patch of sticky cum deep into his pants. His cock twitched, grinding his knob against his underwear as it began to deflate.

Cringing, he opened the waistband of his pants and growled at the translucent release coating his cock, fluid pooling down his shaft and leaking down his balls. He groans at the sight before falling back and wallowing in self pity.

“Fuck-...”

Eustass Kid

“..-You.” Kid growled, pinching his brow with his right hand before rubbing his eyes and face with his palm, “Fuck you!” He kicked back his bedsheets, springing to his feet and growling all the while.

Aggressively peeling off his pajama pants, he used the coarse material to clean his cock of the remnants of his illusionary desires. He rolled them into a ball and threw them to the other side of the room, snarling at the fact his body betrayed him in such a way.

Grumbling, groaning and pouting, he kicked at the side of his bed and sifted through his clothes to find a fresh pair of pants. He was angry, mostly, at himself; the way his cock decided to take the lead in ushering him through dreams he knew would never be a reality. You were a part of his crew! His job was to lead you, and your role was to trust him enough to follow his orders.

Drawing back over encounters with you on his crew, real and tangible moments you shared together, his frown deepened at the thoughts. Your smile beaming at him, the way you stood in front of him to protect him from harm's way, the way you followed his orders with nothing uttered besides a simple: “Yes, Captain”, the way your back arched when you recoiled tangled ropes.

He halted at that thought, zeroing in on that moment. Your ass. Your perfect ass. His cock twitched in his pants, prompting his right hand to reach down and readjust the angle within the tight fabric.

A sneer found its way to his lips, pouting as he replayed the hazy dream he woke from moments prior. Listening to the way your tongue rolled over his name, the way you so easily sucked his cock deep within your body, the feel of his hand reaching around your stomach to feel the protrusion from within your abdomen externally - he began to grow angry.

You did this to him.

This was your fault.

He began to stomp towards the top deck, knowing that he rostered you on for the night shift in the crows nest to keep watch. Twitching his right hand, he began to buzz the sparks of magnetism to coil around your leather uniform at the metal ring in center of your chest.

Gazing over at the sea, you feel your eyes droop. Your body is overcome with exhaustion after keeping yourself awake through the cryptid hours, a yawn calling to you with a tightness in your chest. As you clamp your lips shut after a lengthy yawn, you feel the tightness in your chest grow, the center of your harness buzzing to life and shaking with static.

“What the-... Ahh!” you exclaim, feeling your body soar through the air and down the top mast towards the angry figure of your Captain. You shriek in shock, your back thumping against the stiff mast as the crackling energy pinned you against the wood.

Eustass Kid stomps his heavy boots over to you, your brows knit in both shock and fury at how he made your body dance within the air so easily with his devil-fruit ability.

“What the fuck is your problem, Captain-?” you attempt to ask, your voice being silenced by a feral, barking growl of your Captain.

“-You’re my problem!” Kid roared, looking down his nose at you and curling back his lips to bare his teeth at you, “Walking around wearing that leather outfit like you're some part of BDSM club!”

“The fuck?” you question him, truly confused as you downturn your lip, “You gave this to me, Sir. It's a part of our uniform? You make all of us wear one!” You bark back at him, sneering up at him.

“Fuck you,” Kid snarled, stepping closer to you and closing the gap between your bodies. You end up more confused, up-turning your lip as you feel your anger more tangible.

“Fuck me?” you snarl, shaking your head, “Fuck you, Sir,” you spat, darting your eyes down his chest to get a read on his posture and body language. “You can't just go around calling people to you when you feel like it! What the fuck is wrong with- Mmmfph!”

Hot lips crash atop yours, Kid's bruising kiss shocking your senses more than the initial spectral grab through the air. His teeth bit at your lips, his roaming right hand snaking around your waist and grasping at your ass in a rough fistful. You cry out in shock as he begins kneading it beneath his palm.

“Fuck-,” Kid muffled against your mouth, tilting his head and dragging his tongue over your lips, “-You.”

Offended, you fight back. You bit his bottom lip, aggressively flicking your tongue into his mouth and wriggling against the buzzed pin of your harness against the wood.

“Fuck you, Captain,” you snarl, gasping into his mouth, and wrapping your legs over his hips to find purchase against them. He drove his hips forward, grinding its clothed, thick cock against your pelvis; his knob already beginning to weep with precum from the moment you reciprocated his advances. You groaned against his lips, still partially in shock as to why your captain was kissing you like this.

Kid refused to allow his dreams to get the better of him, falling victim to its foggy, illusionary composition. Why should he make up some fictitious memory when the real thing was so much better?

Massacre Soldier Killer

Overcome with the sheer embarrassment of his intrusive thoughts, he closed his eyes and took a moment to collect himself.

“Keep going,” the mirage called to him, his hazy form using your body as a muse for pleasure, “Killer, I need you.” He snapped upright, stomping over to his laundry basket and peeled off his sticky pants and underwear. Aggressively thrusting the soiled garments in the hamper, he drew his hands up to his hair and scraped it back with his fingers.

As his fingers met with his hair, he was reminded of the image his mind made of the texture of yours. The thump of your hips meeting his, the ripples of your ass as it slapped back into him, the way your body felt wrapped around his cock: he was haunted by you. He growled, his hands shaking with rage at his mind defiling the image of you and forcing his body to cum.

“You deserve better than this,” Killer whispered aloud, shaking his mask-covered face and scowling at his cock, “The fuck is wrong with me?” He cleaned himself up with a few tissues from his bedside table before shrugging his pants over his hips and making his way to the bathroom.

He saw a light reflected in the basin and vanity of the small bathroom, watching as your hunched figure bent itself over the sink and washed your face. You had a soft wiggle in your movements, humming as you shook your hips and splashed water on your face.

Frozen in place, he had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask. He shamelessly raked his eyes over the curvature of your ass, watching as you arched your back to gaze at your reflection. Focussing on ridding the night off your features and waking yourself up, you didn't notice him standing behind you.

Transfixed by your gentle hum, he couldn't bring himself to scold his rapidly buzzing thoughts at what you looked beneath your pajamas. The prior dream and lustful visions had his cock twitch beneath his pants. You finally noticed his presence beside you, calling out your greeting to him and asking your question.

“Killer, can you fuck me, please? I need to know how your body tightens as you paint my insides with your sticky cum. I need it, please.”

Killer snapped his eyes up to your face, noticing you cock your head to the side with a puzzled expression. His body tightened, tensing his muscles as he gulped back a large, dry lump; his Adam's apple bobbing at the thought.

“Wanna run that by me again?” Killer asked, stuttering over the words. You smile warmly at him, briefly examining his body.

“I said: ‘Morning, Killer. Can you pass me that towel please? I kinda need it to dry my face’,” you giggle, gesturing to the towel beside him with your index finger. He hastily rustled the towel into his hands and thrust it out in front of him. You express your gratitude with a soft nod of your head, swiping at your face to dry it.

You take a moment to study him, noticing the tension in his chest and subtle shake in his hands. His body remained stationary, staring at you as you attempted to get a read on him.

“Did you want the basin?” you ask him, no response being met with your question. Killer deeply inhaled, exhaling with a soft sigh of deep mourning. “Kil? You okay? Rough night?” He snapped out of it, gazing at you through the holes in his mask and smiling softly.

“I feel like I should apologize to you,” Killer confessed, reaching out his hands to take your towel and hanging it on your allocated hook. “Look, I-...” he trailed off, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, “...I had a dream about you, and it didn't put you in a good position. I feel like I should apologize to you for it.”

“Oh? What do you mean? What position?” your brows knit together, looking at him with confusion, “Were we fighting or something? Hah! Did I win?” He took a moment to step forward, offering his hands up in defense.

His silence has you concerned, looking down at him before your eyes widened in shock. Killer was admitting he had a dream about fucking you.

“O-Oh…” you exclaimed in shock before your lips curled into a light smirk, “Ohh, that kind of dream…” Stepping forward, you gently jab at him with your index finger with a loud, teasing laugh. “And how was I, big guy?” you teased him, grinning a winning smile and biting your tongue playfully at him, “Did you finish? Did I finish?” He remained silent and crossed his arms over his chest, prompting you to squeal out a choked laugh.

“Oh shit, did you-...” your eyes snapped down to his pants before gazing back into the holes in the mask where his eyes would be, “...Did you actually finish? Like, in the dream, and outside of it?” your smile widened, a soft blush growing on your face as he remained silent and stoic.

“Oh, Killer!” you laughed, clapping your arms around his biceps and giving him a gentle hug with a light laugh, “It's fine. Honest! No judgment from me” you break from the embrace to glance up at him. “Sometimes our minds just run away with us. Enjoy the show. I’m flattered, truly.”

He couldn't help but be in awe of your response, watching as you turned back around and began fixing your hair in the reflection. You began humming your song again, attempting to ignore the rising flutters in your chest at the notion that somewhere, deep beneath the muscular exterior of Killer’s extremely built body, the first-mate had a soft spot for you.

“You forgive me, then?” Killer asked softly, unfolding his arms and hanging them by his side.

“There's really nothing to forgive, but if you think you need it, sure. I forgive you, big guy,” you suggested, getting frustrated at yourself as your hair decided to become uncooperative, “Can help me with my damn hair, and then tell me all about it? In graphic detail? I gotta know what you had me do in your dreams.” Laughing at your own response, your smile was wiped from your face as Killer grabbed a rough fistful of your hair.

He arched you back, feeling your body meet with his chest as he held your hair. His grip was tight enough to halt your motion, but loose enough to not harm you. You let out a soft squeak of shock, eyes widening as you stared at him in the reflection. His other arm snaked around your hips, holding you flush against him.

“Tell you?” he whispered into your ear, tugging your hair to have your head lull back against his shoulder, “Why do that when I can show you?” He nuzzled his head into your neck, freezing before flinching away to check in, “That is, if this is something that you want?”

You blink back your shock, gawking at the position he had you in. Your mind raced a thousand ways a second as you darted your eyes over his hold on you. You whisper quietly, eyes wide and innocent while your curiosity peaks.

“Yes, please.”

Heat

Heat growls at himself, thrusting his left hand into his tangled head of lengthy bed hair before slumping back down into the mattress. Scarred lips quirk down at the corners, his mouth pouting as he contemplates over what just happened.

His crewman, his confidante, his friend: you. He had conjured up an astral projection within his slumber of you writhing on his cock as he thrust deep, languid movements up into your body. The feeling of your spectral image wrapped around his thick shaft, the way you shook like a leaf around him the moment you came undone; it was all enough to spark a new round of inspiration to ignite within his cock.

He reached down into his pants, wrapping his underwear around his already half-hard cock and began grinding the slippery material down over his shaft. The shame he felt was eclipsed by the way your voice haunted him, the way you poured his name over your lips.

“Heat,” he heard you within his mind's eye, “Fuck me, Heat. I need you. Please fuck me.” He whimpered, drawing up the covers to his lips and biting down on the thick blanket. Scrunching his eyes shut, he began thrusting his hips up to meet with his pistoning cock in his palm.

He whispered your name, groaning as his tongue brushed with the duvet. He rolled within the bed, keeping the blankets within his clamped teeth as he began bucking into his hand. Although he took you from behind in his dream, he was picturing your face in his mind.

The way you'd hang your mouth to form a perfect “O” when you came, the way your thighs would quake as your body tingled with the first contraction of your orgasm, the way he would be able to see the deep bulge within your stomach considering the size difference between you. He huffed, panting your name as he heard what you'd say when you came undone.

“Heat, I-I’m gonna cum,” he screwed his eyes shut, tongue flicking out over the blanket as he continued to chase his high, “Please let me. I n-need to. Please let me cum on your cock.” He allowed his mind to get the best of him, picturing exactly how your toes would curl behind his back.

“Y-You like that?” he whispered your name, “You like the way my cock feels deep inside you?” His whisper and huffed pants of your name echoed in his private quarters, his solitude in this moment being his only comfort.

Giving himself permission to use your name while he pleasures himself, he came to terms with the way he felt about you. To him, you were perfect. You were the person for him: his favorite person. The person he wants to come to bed with after a long day to snuggle - to fuck into his mattress, and to ruin for any other partner due to how well he would seek to please you.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered your name, screwing his eyes shut tighter and feeling the soft prick of tears at the corners of his eyes, “You wanna cum? Wanna cum with me?” He doubled down his efforts, “You want my cum? I'll fucking fill you up.”

He groaned a final call of your name, rutting into his hand deep against the mattress and painting the inside of his underwear with thick spurts of scorching cum.

“I-I'm cumming,” he cried your name, whimpering and growling it like an animal in heat while staggering his thrusts into his hand, “Oh, I'm cumming for you.”

After riding his palm coming down from his high, he immediately felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame at the fact he used your image to chase his release into his hand. His blush deepens, his disgust growing as he feels the sticky pool seeping through his underwear and into his pajama pants.

Hastily springing to his feet, he kicked off the pants to avoid more of a spill and grimaced as he peeled off his underwear. Folding the material in half, he used it to clean the rest of his shaft before tossing them into a hamper beside his bed. He redrew up the pajama pants over his hips and walked over to his door, collecting his bathroom supplies as he prepared himself for a proper shower to wake himself up.

As he opened his door, he was met with a statuesque figure of a fist balled at his chest height and intending to knock. His eyes widened, looking down to see your widened eyes and deep flush coating your face in several shades darker than your original hue.

His own face immediately flushed with blood, his cheeks darkening to a deep purple color the moment he saw your face. Your fist shook lightly, your lips parted and your eyes slowly blinked.

You had just caught Heat masturbating, and he had whispered your name while he came. Without truly a clue as to what to do with this information, you gulped back a dry mouthful and stated your purpose.

“Captain sent me to get you to come on watch-shift with me in the next twenty,” you managed to choke out, avoiding eye contact with Heat as his shock drew further up his face, “I made us breakfast-.”

Heat immediately slammed his bedroom door in your face, turning on his heels and throwing his hand up to cover his eyes in shame. He yelled into his palm, stifling the sound as his embarrassment and shame washed over his body in a cold, icy wave.

This was going to be one very long, very awkward, and very tense shift.