#and i didnt even go into how mentally ill he is which is a whole other topic

[strwbrymlkshake]

LOVE ME THE MOST THE MOST YOU POSSIBLY CAN!!!!!! LOVE ME THE MOST I NEED TO BE THE ONLY THING IN YOUR MIND

[mashed4077]

there are very few characters i'd say this about, i like a lot of shitty little guys but i'm always critical of them and am happy to hold them accountable for their bullshit (and mentally beat them with a stick), but i'm legitimately a frank burns apologist. he's literally so emotionally immature and he's got a child-like understanding of so many things, i don't think he's put any thought whatsoever into the bullshit he says, he doesn't even notice that his opinions piss people off so it's not even like he's intentionally being a piece of shit for attention - he legitimately doesn't seem to know better, he's operating entirely on ignorance and gullibility.

frank's a character who's desperate to do what he's been told he's supposed to do, and what a person's feels they're 'supposed' to do is entirely dependent on what they've been taught is right. sometimes we develop different morals, independent of what our childhoods taught us, but a lot of the time, we really internalize values we were taught as kids. i'm sure hawkeye's father is the one who taught him that freedom, individuality, authenticity, empathy, and humanity are crucial, and that influenced hawkeye's need to do what's right when it comes to making sure people don't get mistreated or exploited. frank, on the other hand, was taught the exact opposite, not unlike margaret - individuality and freedom aren't important; you fall in line, and you do your duty. for frank, that's marrying a woman he doesn't like, having three kids he doesn't seem to really care for, becoming a doctor even though he didn't want to.

we can see what frank genuinely does value / want in the two things he actually consistently seems passionate about; margaret (his only friend; someone who bolsters him, enables him, is typically on the same page as him, seems to accept him, treats him kindly for once), and money - and i see frank's greed as less about wanting more, more, more, and more about security, about the status symbols and the fact that when he has them, that means he's done well, that he's doing what he's supposed to do, that he's a success in the eyes of the traditional world he's been brought up in. that's why he brags about owning his own practice, why he brags about his 30,000 dollar house and two cars (or was it a 30,000 dollar car and two houses?), why (iirc) he brings up being a member of a country club - these are things he's been told he should covet, things he's been told are a point of pride, but they don't actually make him happy in any way. but he values money because it lets him have these things, and then he can exist safely in his repressed, deluded little bubble where it's enough.

and it's why he won't let his wife go; we know frank had a rough childhood, we know he does deal with insecurity on the very very rare occasion he lets himself reflect on anything. i don't think it's a stretch to say that on some level, frank feels defective. people don't like him and he doesn't seem to know why, his parents and his brother didn't really like him and he doesn't know why, his wife and kids don't seem to like him and he doesn't know why. as i said, frank's pretty repressed and deluded, but he does have a few vulnerable moments that show he's aware of this, and it bugs him. he wants to fit in. he wants to be liked. he does fit in, on a surface level, back home in indiana, amongst the other conservative morons he associates with. nobody really likes him there either, but he's got everything everyone else has (or better!), which renders him acceptable, respectable, which is what he's been told the goal is. and then he can pretend that's enough, because it's easier to be accepted than it is to be liked, and he knows the steps to win acceptance (at least with that crowd), but the secret to being liked, to forming connections, eludes him. he really doesn't know what he's doing wrong there. which, i read frank as autistic and i get that, and i feel for him on it, i really do. it's so alienating to feel like you're just missing something everyone else seems to have come built with.

i didn't finish my thought; he can't let his wife go even though he's unhappy with her because it'd unravel his security. it'd ruin that illusion of "i've made it, i've got a wife and kids and a great job like i'm supposed to, therefore i'm not defective!" he'd lose the identity of being a husband like he thinks a proper 1950s man should be, he'd lose the financial security of being middle-upper class. he'd become several things he's been taught to look down upon, things that would make him Bad, that would affirm that he's defective.

and you know what? all of this is why hawkeye bothers him so much. hawkeye's free from all the shackles frank's willingly entrapped himself in. he's unmarried, he's eccentric and fairly openly neurodivergent in his behavior, he loudly and obnoxiously plays freely with sexuality and gender. these are all things frank's been told are bad, and evil, and worse, they're things that exist inside frank that he's terrified of. frank's canonically queer, people don't like to acknowledge it because they hate him, but hating a queer character doesn't make them any less gay kjdfhdk. and the show plays with gender with him a bit, too. and he's threatened by hawkeye, hell, and by klinger too. when he's back home, he doesn't have to associate with people like them, so it's a distant concept, such deviancy, and he can try to forget the parts of himself that he can't seem to temper, no matter how wrong he's been told they are. but when it's right in front of him, it's that terrifying reminder.

and worse - they're happier than he is. i mean, they're still at war, they're not that happy, but they're free in themselves, they have fun, they get to experience joy because they let themselves, because they haven't been taught that doing your duty as an American Man is of the utmost importance and that there's very rigid guidelines to that and having any fun outside of that is unacceptable and wrong. and i think on some level he does envy that.

idek what i'm babbling about anymore, but yeah, i just find it hard to hold frank responsible. i think he's a victim of middle america. i think he simply had the misfortune of being a queer autistic man born into that world, into a world that wasn't built for people like him, that inherently sees him as lesser, and he's so overcompensatory in his behavior to prove that he can do it, that he can be what he's supposed to be. his political values are because he's desperate for rules, guidelines, and a sense of order in what he perceives as a hostile world that he's not equipped to deal with, let alone thrive in, because he's also well aware he's not the strong masculine figure he ought to be, and he's merely doing a bad impersonation of one. that's frank in general, really; he's so desperately trying to fit into a mold that simply doesn't match his shape. i think if he escaped all that, it'd be a good start in him being better all around. of course, his political alignment isn't his only problem, he's got a lot of other shit going on, but it's the main thing i see him condemned for. he's also toxic as hell, and i think that environment only enables him.

within the show, i don't think redeeming frank would've been a good idea and i'm glad they didn't (although i also have a lot of issues with the way his arc ended and the way he was written in s5 in general but i digress) - but i don't think it'd be impossible. i don't even think it'd be hard. he just needs to be told that it's okay to be an individual, that he doesn't have to keep trying to fit himself into a pre-existing mold that wasn't built for him when he can simply build one for himself that he actually fits and is happy in. and that's why he's just pathetic and tragic to me, rather than genuinely unlikeable; he doesn't even know what he likes, what would make him happy. he doesn't even have a sense of self. it's just sad, and i can't hate him for it.

[carpedzem]

help needed

hi guys

some might remember i have a cat, an old gentleman named Mikuś. unfortunately with this age - the illness was about to happen sooner or later. i would prefer slower if i could choose. unfortunately thats not how life works and i had to watch my baby getting worse and worse within days. its serious since Mikuś is refusing to eat right now and lost 1/4 of his weight.

we still dont know what this is, we are checking what we can but i cant exclude cancer. its really hard to me right now, especially mentally because Mikuś is 20 which means, as you can probably guess, he was with me not only his whole life but also my whole life. he has been my lifeline for a big part of it as well. i am staying hopeful for the best outcome.

if you would like to help financially i will be grateful for you forever ever ever ever. even if you can send minimal amount and you think it wont change anything - it will, i promise, you can be a reason why he eats today. all money will go to pay for vet visits, medical exams, medicine and transport. im also fine with showing proof in dms of what i paid for if anyone want so see it. the goal right now is set based on what i already spend plus what else can happen this week but any, really any help will be appreciated, even if its just a reblog.

KO-FI LINK

also i will draw you what you want with pleasure. you can literally use this as commissions. i didnt have time (or peace of mind) to prepare price sheet but any donation above 100$ means fully rendered piece of your choosing with background. examples 1 and 2. ill start as soon as i feel better. dm me and we can talk through what you want

i dont know what else i can say. kiss your pet from me, and thank you for any support and kind messages. its going to be hard for me so please be patient

photo of Mikuś breadloafing in the vet office today

[saguette]

What do you think Johnny's art looked like before he was stripped of his powers? This is something that bugs me a lot, and I'm curious about what you think.

ok i needed to draw a few shitty pictures to demonstrate cuz i wanted to talk about more than just his previous art but his art journey in general IDC if there's some canon tweet that proves something i said wrong or out of timeline these are my headcanons and projections so you either like it or not.. anyways I think his style pre-pre-JTHM (lets say 15-18) depicted many things, He was good at realism and fluctuated just fine between stylized art and big hefty works with a lot of detail. His stylized works looking similar to Jhonens and the whole 2000's artstyle cuz its fitting.

Of course he's like, a late teenager around this time so its GOOD but not perfect. If you pulled up a few of his drawings from this time he would probably be embarrassed by all the disproportionate limbs and goth girls he sketched and thought were badass. He probably has old sketches of friends in his style regardless if they asked to be drawn or not since his art was something he was proud of and people around him made him feel proud of. His old art also feels like it'd have anime elements unintentionally to add to that amateur artist swag. Johnny doesn't like anime copies but stuff he rips inspo from was anime inspired so it rubbed off on his work too. Moving onto PRE-JTHM (18-20) Is when his art started to get more serious and complex. In his happy era he took to drawing lovecraftian horror sometimes but it was always the secondary focus of any drawing.

Moving out and growing up was around the time his mental state started to worsen and he started using art to cope with emotions rather than just use it for fun, drawing complex monsters was a subconscious way to depict underlying mental illness that's out of his hands. He cant depict what he doesn't know he has, he can only scribble things that feel someone close to him because there is no physical appearance to emotions. He never liked his art around this time because it always felt unfinished or wrong or like it just didn't interpret what he wanted right. Overtime his art lost coherent appearance, quality, and meaning which made it feel worthless. It wouldn't be all that bad but it reached a point not even he knew what it was trying to be and it was frustrating. How can your own art not make sense to you? Its weird to let your hands go and do their own and you not recognize what they're trying to say. Which leads to SHORTLY BEFORE JTHM-and later.. Johnnys NEW preferred method for art currently is a little abstract, it became two extremes of the same thing; nothing. his art lost alot of what it used to be so he says he cant draw anymore.

Johnnys lovecraftian horror art slowly engulfed itself over time and always becomes an abstract mess. Its purposely made to be incomprehensible by having too much, regardless if its creation is poetic, an outside view not being able to tell what it is or how much work went into it is on purpose. its metaphorical or whatever.. Johnnys fucked up or something.. Whereas Noodleboy i imagine was made by him drawing a stickfigure one day to see if he can still "draw" and overtime gave him his features like angry eyes and that big hair, creating his own sort of vent sona to replace the sketchy abstract art he used before. Noodleboys chaoticness is too sporadic to rip any meaning off of, he also purposely represents nothing. His existence uses up paper the same way, just without all the extra effort. SORRRYYYY long tangent thats probably super messy i just winged it. but i cant help myself ive thought about this for a while ik i didnt strictly answer the question but i had so much more to say

[mcyt-trios]

FINAL ROUND

PROPAGANDA:

3 Heart Trio:

theyre soo silly theyre just silly little guys who do things like mining an entire chunk in the center of the server's spawn for their own entertainment and to annoy everyone else

They are PATHETIC. They are ANNOYING. They are PERFECT. They are playing on three hearts and they die so much. They have a specialized raid platform that is NOT a raid farm. They are a team against exploits! Their base has 3 hearts above it representing them

these guys decided to put love and fun above all on the killing-lying server. while watching other teams betray and fall apart they have stuck with each other till the very last day of the server and never doubted one another. they worked like a clockwork, they knew they could only rely on themselves and at the end of the day, they didnt mind that it was that way

these guys got the short end of the stick time and time again throughout all of lifesteal s4, they were the targets of so many traps and attacks for no reason other than they were weak and always around. and despite it all they never wanted revenge and never held grudges! they cared about fun and friendship more than anything else, and while all the other teams ended up falling apart or betraying each other, these three stuck together from start to end. they didn't care about how many hearts they had, how much gear they had, or how powerful they were, because in the end all they needed was each other <3 i miss them so bad btw

Eclipse Federation:

i dont like them. they ruined my life. Subz and Vitalasy had already partnered in previous seasons but this one, Vitalasy ended up leaving for a few months, leaving Subz alone, and Zam ended up getting close to him after immense trauma at the hands of his former teammates. Zam has done SO many wrongs, including to Subz himself and Subz STILL took him in and made him join Eclipse Federation after Zam died 14 times in a row and got banned then revived by the same player who's been killing him all this time. And it could've been perfect but no, Zam had betrayed his previous team due to them using dupes via exploits, and now Eclipse Federation ALSO has exploits! And he decided that yeah his morals were more important than being loved! And so he murders Vitalasy when he's at his most vulnerable point, lets everyone gaslight him into thinking Vitalasy is an irredeemable evil monster who will never change, even as Vitalasy SAID he was ready to change before the betrayal even happened, Eclipse threw out their whole revenge plans because of Zam's positive influence and he just broke everything. Subz couldn't be with Zam but also couldn't see himself at Vitalasy's side, leaving him alone. Vitalasy hated Zam and yet never killed him or hunted him down, despite Zam acting like he did. And when Vitalasy left, banning himself off from the server, Zam had some time alone to think and realized he fucked up SOOOO bad. And Subz revived Vitalasy and told him to kill him. And ban him. His last wish. His Deliverance. And to make up with Zam. And Vitalasy tried, and they kind of did make up over Subz's death, but then Zam was like "actually im going to kill everyone and destroy the server now. because i want subz back and also because i always do extremely drastic things when i don't need to because i have unchecked mental illnesses i refuse to get help for". And surprisingly when Subz came back he didn't like that! And they ended in tragedy! Eclipse is fucked up. It's a trio that's always about the absence of one person, it's a team that could only happen in one timeline and it was doomed from the very start. But the love was there. It made everything worse, truthfully. But it was there. And that matters. Also as a fun fact Zam himself on twitter has referred to eclipse as a throuple, which is not canon but that's pretty funny. he also stated on stream he didn't want to get therapy because it'd ruin his lifesteal character. and there was a saga where they would "marry" (challenge lost kinda shenanigans) and zam was the only one happy about it. he's not normal. there's something wrong with him. love that for him though sorry for the block of text. I really dislike them. They're my beloveds :3

[4pfsukuna]

could you write smth for long curly haired reader who isn't doing the best mentally so she isn't ty taking care of here hair and geto who has a crush on her offered to help her with it? i just know he'd be soft and gentle.hed even look up how to take care of curly hair to help make his girls (he wishes 😔) hair look the best it ever has (so she can ask him to keep doing her hair for her) i need him down bad 🙏🙏

omfg girl. GIRLLLLLL. This may have just healed my writers block🥹

Suguru Geto was the neighborhood heart-throb with his dark volumtious hair, midnight black eyes that were so dark they nearly looked purple his tall muscular frame (his thighs were drool worthy when he man spread) and his hands that could probably… no definitely palm your whole face. Between that warm honey coated laugh and the smooth calm tone he always heals in his voice he had every girl and woman in a 10 foot radius always swooning over him. Not that he noticed his eyes were always on you and when you werent around his mind was thinking if you ate today, how your day was, what new hobby you picked up what conditioner you used? The last one was a bit unhinged.

Last week he made a complete fool of himself when he seen you in the shared hall of your apartment and finally gathered up the courage to ask you on a date but it started off so well. 

“Hello sweetheart, how was work?” He grins down at you waiting for your brown eyes to meet his and he feels his heart stutter when you do with a soft smile.

“Hey Geto, it was alright, glad im off though im starving” you answer” as you fumble with your house keys pushing some of your long curls out of your face with a single finger.

He can feel his insides exploding, this was it you just put the ball in his court for a lay up or whatever silly basketball analogy Satoru used when he told him about you, now was his chance.

“Oh? Theres a new family owned restauraunt that just opened nothing to fancy. You should go” he blurts out faster than he has time to think about it and his tongue instantly feels heavy in his mouth. His jaw feels hinged and hes clenching his mouth and fist so tight he doesnt know what will break first his teeth or the skin on his palms from how bad his nails are digging in.

“Yeah, i think i will. Have a good night” you wave and hes so in his own head he doesnt realize the way the smile doesnt reach your eyes from either dissapointment of him not asking to go together or the long day of work is something he spends the next few days pondering about once he gets in his apartment.  The only thing hes glad about is that neither Shoko or Satoru was there to embarass him endlessly. He always had a smooth slightly arrogant demeanor but when it came to you words fealt heavy in his mouth, his hands got clammy and his eyes could not leave you what so ever.

The next time he sees you hes shocked. Its around midnight after a full day of listening to anxiety by meg thee stallion on repeat loud enough for him to hear it in his living room that he begins to get worried. Its when he sees you in a dark blue hoodie blanket going to take out your trash that he stops you.

“Hey sweetheart, i can take your trash for you. You shouldnt be taking it down this late anyway” he reaches for the bag not expecting you to pull away.

“N-nah its cool, i got it” you voice cracks and he finally looks at your eyes seeing them puffy and red which makes him fall into defense mode. 

“Who did it? Ill kill them” and that wasnt exactly what he wanted to say but fuck it its not like he didnt mean it and it earns a chuckle from you. Ok, finally he was doing something right.

“Everything and everyone” you pout and he feels his heart soften at the helpless look of defeat on your face. If only you knew you had a man that would actually burn the whole world down in front of you.

“I dont have enough matches for the whole world but if you give me enough time i can run to the store to buy more and burn the it all down for you” he rubs his chin earning a smile this time.

“Maybe not the whole world” you start with a slight giggle and his heart starts doing that weird thing again “It's just… my anxiety has been in overdrive this week and my job has rumors about letting some people go and i think its me since i've been talking about being home sick and my hair stylist canceled my appointment which ruined my week because not only does she not know when she’ll return but my hair products are nothing more but empty containers that won't get shipped here until next month. NEXT MONTH Geto, i cant just put anything in my hair and nobody here can help me” you pout feeling your bottom lip tremble as you fight back tears not wanting to cry infront of your neighbor you needed to hold onto some shred of dignity— hes already watching you in this snuggie with kuromi socks on.

Your face is quickly found in his chest as he pulled you in for a hug and you nearly start sobbing, its not your fault when people hugged you when you were sad it only made you cry more.

“And then i forgot to go grocery shopping” you finally break the hot tears running down you face you wait for him to push you off instead he just holds you tighter resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back. His embrace kinda felt nice and this was the only thing that felt right in your whole horrible week you were going to bask in it.

“I can help you with your hair” Geto blurts and you wipe your eyes to make sure you heard him correctly.

“You what?” Your raspy voice questions looking up at the man whos tall enough to nearly reach the hallway ceiling.

“I can help you with your hair” he repeats, using a thumb to wipe some of the tears from under your eyes, his palm cupping your cheek to keep you in place. Completely unbothered by the fact that any of your other neighbors could walk out and see you two like this he’s just happy to have you this close.

“No shade but what do you know about kinky curly hair, plus im not trying to let anyone experiment on my hair let alone a man” you cross your arms but you don’t pull away from his embrace which he selfishly enjoys.

“You think this long healthy hair comes from using a body wash and shampoo 2 in 1? I actually take pride in my 8 step hair routine” he tells you reaching up to pull his hair from its bun letting his long obsidian locs cascade down over his broad shoulders the coconut scent hitting your nose.

You stare at him for a second debating how wrong this could go letting this man play in your head. I mean worse case scenario it gets tangled and you big chop after your hair crisis(amongst the several youve had throughout life) youve always said ‘fuck it im going to just go bald’ and maybe you finally spoke it into existance. 

You see the hopefulness in his eyes and know this man is fully convinced he can do your hair and will spend all night convincing you if he has to and you're not sure if it's his resilience or your lack of sleep that has you finally crack and let out a long sigh.

“I promise i can do it just give me a second to toss this trash, grab my products and i'll be over in a second” he promises with an excited grin grabbing the trash from your hand and taking off down the hall.

“And thats not all… they were roommates” you gossip with him as he runs the detangler through your hair after parting it into four sections. He was on the last section before having your lean back to begin the wash process and maybe he did know a thing or two about hair. Gently guiding your head back to the running water you hear the CLICK of the bottle opening before you feel the cold substance on your scalp.

Your eyes instantly close when his fingers begin massaging your scalp his nails feeling so heavenly against your roots.

“Oh my God Sugur your fingers feel so good” you nearly moan and he has to stop for a second, pretending to look for your detangler comb to not lose his composure. he cant even help his pants getting slightly tighter, he was honestly so down bad for you. 

He rinses repeats detangles conditions detangles again with very little instruction from you and honestly it was because you had began dozing off quite a few times enjoying the physical touch of another human while he is the physical embodiment of happy to be here.

He notices the song you had on repeat is also off instead choosing Sade to listen to which was alot more calmer. Its when he begins humming along that your brows scrunch and he panics assuming that hes hurting you.

“What you know about Sade?” Youre soft voice pokes making him chuckle and damn does he have a nice laugh.

“Im a man of culture” he pokes your temple and you jokingly pretend to attempt to bite his finger your goofyness slipping out easily around him. “Besides im washing your hair obviously im very cultured” he adds in and you cant argue there.

An hour later you find yourself rambling about all your favorite things favorite music, hobbies and embarassing stories of you from the fourth grade which he counters of embarassing stories of him in high school with him and his best friend satoru who he promises to introduce you to.

“And i'll section the braids up here into smaller parts So if you want a middle part or side part you have options” he tells you absentmindedly and you crain your head back to make direct eye contact but he gently grabs the side of your neck using his thumb to push your head forward.

“You'll get neck pain if you do that sweetheart” he commands softly in a way that makes your spine tingle and you rest your head against his large thigh.

“Have you done this before?” You ask your mind instantly floating to another woman and while there weren't too many girls that looked like you in japan with a hair texture like yours he was entirely too good to never have practiced this once.

“Yes” he answers honestly and you force yourself to push down the thoughts that make your stomach drop. “Though they usually fall asleep by the time i get to conditioning their hair”

And it's like you can hear the record scratch and the peaceful bliss you're in ends abruptly.

“So it's nice having someone to talk to up until the end” he tells you before finishing a braid and you feel it fall mid back before he shuffles around. There's a bright light gleaming on the side of your face and you turn slightly to see a picture of twin girls, one with dark hair and one with light brown, almost blonde hair.

“They're so cute, how old are they?” you ask taking the phone in your hands to get a better look as he swipes showing different clips from what looks like a trip to the aquarium.

“11, thats mimiko and nanako usually they are here with me but they are with uncle Satoru for the summer making his pockets hurt as they say and spending time with their little cousin megumi” he tells you before he stops sliding landing on a picture of him satoru the twins and a dark spikey haired little boy that looks angry at Satoru.

“He looks like he absolutely hates satoru” you giggle resting your head back on his thigh which earns a laugh from him.

“Despises him, actually thinks Satoru is so annoying but he loves him… deep deep deep down inside his tiny little body since he adopted him. We knew his dad… real piece of shit actually” Suguru admits using a bit more force on your hair, its not painful but you could tell he hated Megumi's dad more than Megumi hated Satoru. 

“You must've had them really young” you pry slightly which he snorts at before using the comb to detangle a section of your hair and adding in more product. 

“No, I met them at an old job. They were in a bad environment and I took them in. I just couldn’t watch them go through that horrible system it's not a place for innocent little girls” he tells you his touch becoming so featherlite you almost forget he's doing your hair 

“Yeah it makes sense you are such a girl dad. Definitely dilf material” you ramble going back to look at the pictures zooming in on how happy the girls look.

His eyes widen and breath gets caught in his throat he nearly has to stop what he's doing to focus on you again.

“Dilf? At Least take me out to dinner first”he jokes trying to calm his heart before you lean your head back once more making eye contact with him.

“How about the new family owned restaurant you told me about? You could even bring the girls I’d love to meet them” you smile at him watching the blush build on his face.

“R-really?” He stutters, not expecting you to ask him out on a date… shit was it a date?

“Yeah they seem to play an important role in your life and I need to make a good impression on them as well… I mean unless I’ve been taking your staring, heated looks and your kind offer to wash my hair the wrong way?” You tease with a sly smirk and he can feel the flush running through his entire body.

“Oh so you've just been letting me embarrass myself in front of you… this entire time” he exaggerates, holding a hand over his mouth in faux shock.

“I thought it was cute” you shrug watching his reactions before he tilts your head back forward using neck cramps as an excuse.

“Hey suguru?” You yawn, leaning your head back against his thigh and it was just the perfect head rest as his fingers began massaging through your scalp again.

“Yes sweetheart?” He asks slowing down for a second and you begin enjoying, a bit too much, the way he sounds calling you that.

“Thank you for washing my hair and styling it” you smile closing your eyes and shoulders dropping slightly and he grins at the signs of you falling asleep. He's seen it too often with the twins but he had to admit he may have been enjoying this more than you, acts of service being his love language that much was clear.

“Anything for you” 

[freakenomenon]

since you’ve already talked extensively about ted and ellens psychodramas + how they were displayed in the game, what do you think about other characters psychodramas like gorrister and benny?

sits back.

both of their psychodramas are confusing to me, but i prefer bennys over gorristers so ill talk about that first,,

i have like an EXTREME dislike for how they completely took away his entire character in the short story, especially with the erasure of his sexuality. but even beyond that. i just. Don't understand his character??? he was big and strong and handsome and hated the weak and. then what.

id understand if there was some kind of character motive beyond being perfect and not giving a damn point blank period. like if he was trying to prove something. to strive for perfection to the point of killing others because of SOMETHING. but they don't. i don't understand the point of completely reworking this characters already established and VERY WELL IMPLEMENTED backstory for anything other than censorship.

he refused to be weak in any way, but WHY.

it's not like with ellen ( sorry i cant resist ) where she grew up in a bad neighborhood where she was treated like nothing, so she decided to MAKE herself something.

which made it hard to cope with the fact she couldn't just rise above EVERYTHING.

or like with ted where he was forced to work for his family because of their poor financial situation, but then was pulled out of that by someone who was taking advantage of him.

which caused a giant rift in his identity.

benny has just. always been a cool big strong powerful man who didnt care about others!!@ and then when AM took him down he's not anymore boo hoo.

it's watering down what made bennys transformation from man to monkey so god damn horrifying. especially with the lack of compassion. yes sure he cares about nobody but himself BUT FUCKING. WHY? THEY DONT EVEN ELABORATE ON THIS IN THE MANUAL. FUCKING WHYYYYYY.

i like toto though, very fun little guy. very interesting character. he was like the only part of the psychodrama i could really,,, resonate? with.

now. gorristers psychodrama is.

what the hell is even going on

the only thing i could really gather from it is that instead of being an activist and a cautious "looker-aheader", gorrister was a truck driving alcoholic who had a bad marriage and an abusive mother in law who blamed him for driving his wife batshit crazy because he beat her. but. other than that i don't.

understand half of it. what do you mean edna killed gorrister. what do you mean Harry cut his heart out. jesse, what the fuck are you talking about.

i don't fully understand WHY we are supposed to sympathize with gorrister when he is. SOMEWHAT responsible for the mental descent of glynis. obviously edna and harry played a huge part in this, im not ignoring that at all. but the end of the psychodrama implying that gorrister should just forgive himself and bury the past because he wasn't FULLY at fault for punting wife into the looneybin. What.

once again, i don't understand the need for a complete flip of this characters original premis unless it's for CENSORSHIP purposes. alongside that at least the puzzles and the dialogue within bennys psychodrama make SENSE. gorristers just.

DONT?

it's not that the puzzles don't have ANY logic like a good one or two of ellens. THEY JUST. ARENT SOMETHING THAT A NORMAL PERSON WOULD DO OR BE ABLE TO FIGURE OUT WITHOUT JUST CLICKING SHIT ON RANDOM TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS. wait. Wait.

Okay. i know this is supposed to be a rant about their characters but. I just wanna say that a lot of the puzzles. Are things that RELATE to the characters and their stories and backgrounds. which adds to the enjoyment. WHEN YOU REMOVE THE ENJOYMENT OF THE PUZZLES. IT KIND OF MAKES ME. NOT LIKE GORRISTER SO MUCH.

if i kept going id just end up totally rewriting the characters as a whole and that's something for another tumblr rant to soothe my ever expanding rage.

im gonna go get a cheese stick

[buckgettingstruck]

It’s also like… they only make this demand of Eddie. No one is campaigning for Athena, Bobby, Hen, Chim OR BUCK to go to therapy. Tbh some of those characters need therapy more than Eddie (cough Athena and Bobby cough). Even in the context of Buddie, Bucks done some pretty messed up stuff ON PURPOSE and people aren’t saying he needs therapy to be worthy of Eddie. Wonder what the difference there is 👀.

I also think that people don’t have a good understanding of grief. I know story-wise we’re all tired of Shannon’s ghost, but at the same time, grief never really goes away. I don’t know if this is an intentional bid for realism by the writers or if it’s one of those accidentally real things they wrote into the show, but I think it’s very understandable to want to recreate good memories and spend time with someone that you loved (romantic or not) and lost no matter how unhinged it is. And to be slapped in the face with a dead loved one’s doppelgänger? I can easily see how Eddie or anyone would get caught up in the fantasy no matter how well adjusted they are, but i think a lot of people don’t get that or maybe haven’t experienced that kind of grief

everything you said is so nicely put so kisses for you *mwah*

i do think many dont understand the way grief can fuck you up ESPECIALLY with the context of a dead spouse and thinks being left forever unaddressed. that aspect of it is so absolutely real and even if they didnt do it on purpose its something most shows dont do. like the person moves on with life and thats that. you are capable of having a lovely flourishing life after the loss but its not something that shrinks its something you grow and expand around. people dont get that its something that doesnt disappear.

also like. im being so real when i say this but its the fact that eddie has canonical mental illness while buck (and what i think isnt canon even though to me it is) doesnt. so. and people with mental illness are way more likely to be demonized i feel.

the thing that fucks me up the most is that eddie was doing well until he was slammed with such an unimaginable, unfathomable trigger. the whole storyline is a shitshow but its an unfathomable situation nobody irl would ever be in. which makes it a lot harder for some people to empathize with i think.

also especially without any sort of diagnosis i think buck’s issues are more palatable because people see at least a little of themselves in that while eddie’s are so niche.

[xr0tt3nxfl3shx]

👁💊My Medicine is underdeveloped and my Amygdala won't work.💉👁

Twomp[AU] fanfiction + art !! Pertains to the events in this post. [No beta we die.]

⚠️‼️TW: VOMITING / OVERDOSE / SUICIDAL IDEATION / UNREALITY / CORRUPT MENTAL HEALTH SYSTEM / GENERAL MENTAL ILLNESS THEMES‼️⚠️

A/N: i didnt wanna mention it tbh but just in case, ive been down the chemical consumption road 3 times, an i mention because i know the internet has opinions on mental illness in writing. But ive been there myself. All up close and personal like. so i think i can speak on it (dont castrate me)

POV: 👁Argos👁

I scratch at my skin in the dark of my room as if that'll hold in the tears from spilling over my burning red cheeks. The feeling of rage and overwhelming depression clash within me, and leave me to switch every few minutes between cursing the name of every therapist who ever told me that "I'm not even trying to get better" and crying over the idea that they might be right.

My heartbeat is so vigorous that it feels like at any moment the tendons will tear away and my heart will burst in my ribs. How could anyone say that to me? I seethe and hiss through my gritting teeth. Why can't I get better? I cry enough to fill an ocean and nearly drown in my tears.

I should be able to control all of this by now, I'm not a child. Yet, I can't stop thinking about putting the heads of those who hurt me on a platter. Or banging my head on my bedroom wall hard enough to dull the heartbreak. My eyes are running dry from all the tears, I've been at this for a while. My head is pounding from the adrenaline. All reasonable thoughts are drowned out, with intrusive and irrational ones taking the place of my internal voice of reason.

I can make it better, I can make this better. I just need to try a little harder! Just.. go a little further. These feelings, it's just a chemical imbalance right?

I'm running out of options, types of therapy, pills, at this point I might as well just get a lobotomy. I'm sure my therapist would like that.

There's still time to make this right. I don't have to end my life to end my suffering right?

I can prove them wrong. I will prove them wrong. It's just a chemical imbalance. I just need to fix it.

I rummage through the medicine cabinet above my bathroom sink, overlooking the blood crusting around the drain. There has to be something in here that can make my head stop pounding or my thoughts quiet down if not for just a little while. Maybe everything all at once? Yeah that should do!

Laid out in front of me on the cold tiled floor of my bathroom are various pill bottles. The amount of pills actually in them is varied, they like to switch my meds every other week it seems. I try to be hasty with this, pouring out a small handful of gel capsules into my hand. Each one smooth, glossy, and slightly cool to the touch.

You know, I've been here before, and typically there's some survival instinct in me, paralyzing my hands before I can do any damage. But all I can feel is anguish. And anger. And there's no more room for self preservation in me.

I take my first dose before I can come down from my emotion fueled adrenaline rush. Quickly now don't let the self preservation come back. I take my next dose of a new pill type, a tablet. It was a bad idea doing this dry but oh well!

Before I know it I'm slumped against my bathroom door, unable to continue my self medication on account of the mounds of pills I dry swallowed having begun triggering my gag reflex. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious about this, but it had to be done. My therapist is always urging me to take steps in the right direction!

(Though admittedly he never mentioned which direction is the right one.)

I make it back to my bed, dragging my feet and leaning on the wall for support the whole way. It's not even five minutes in when I start to feel the effects. I probably should've eaten before taking my pills like the instructions say.

This is different though, I feel my connection to reality slip right through my jittery fingers. Like the shadows in my room are divulging their presence. Like they are reaching out their hands, ready to take hold of me, pull me in and make me one with unreality. An emptiness overcomes me, something I've truly never felt before. And it's the strangest thing, because simultaneously I've never felt more alive in my life.

Everything is really funny, I've never noticed how funny everything is up until now. Every little unorganized thought that pops up in my foggy, spacing-out head manages to get a strained laugh out of me.

Visual snow floods my peripheral, the colors of the world begin to become one with the static in my eyes.

Ah, I remembered what I was going to do in here. I need to call Mr. Plant. I need him to know that I'm going to get better, and how much I love him of course. Oh he'll never understand just how much I love him! I love him to death, haha! Literally.

I dial in the number. Moving has proven difficult, like trying to control a vehicle while tired and out of it, or in my case trying to control a vehicle through the most debilitating brain fog I've ever experienced. The disconnection from body and thought is almost calming.

The ringing of the phone is such a funny thing as well. I could lose myself in the methodical rhythm and loose vibrations running up my hands- oh look here he's answered!

"M‐r… plant! I ha-ve.. s o me thi.. ng to tell you."

I am fighting to get the words out. The weak sounds I manage to get out of my raspy throat come out in uneven tones with jarring stutters. Why is it so hard to speak?

"I took.. a lot o-f... my me-ds. Ha-ha!" He hangs up immediately.

Is he not happy for me? It wasn't long before I heard sirens closing in. Did he call the cops on me? That's no fair, no fair at all.

I've never been rolled into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher before but there's a first time for everything I suppose. It's too bad I'm too out of it to really experience it.

In the ambulance is when the first wave of nausea hits. I could barely even feel the EMT insert the IV or hear when they asked me questions.

———

The heart palpitations do their diligence distracting from the perforations left in my arm from the injections of various medications and the IV drip.

My respiration is just as irregular as my heart's chemical damaged rhythm. I feel like I'm drowning in this heavy air and it feels like the knots in my stomach have spread to my heart. This pain is so unbearable that I feel the need to crave it out of myself with a blade.

The world is doubling- no tripling, blurring, and mushing together all at once. I can feel the hum of the fluorescent hospital light buzz through my head. The scent of rubbing alcohol and sterilized equipment is evident throughout the cold medical facility.

By my own hands I've made my body a place unsuitable for living. I've "almost drugged myself to an early grave" as the hospital staff keep reminding me.

Speaking of body, I can no longer tell where I end and the wires of the EKG machine begin. Neuropathy has set in and nerve sensation has dulled for the most part, except in my stomach and heart where it hurts the most of course. But me and the machines they have me hooked up to might as well be one as long as they are taking the place of my dysfunctional body systems.

When they run the EKG scan, which they do about every half hour, they ask me to stay as still as I can, but it's hard to control the shaking when I don't know where it comes from in the first place. I'm by no means cold, or if I am I really can't feel it.

Have I mentioned the shaking? The tremors? I need to grow accustomed to the flavor of raw stomach acid soon, because that's all I've been throwing up anymore. It's all that's left.

The nausea begins to build all over again, like my stomach is writhing and contorting in my torso. I can feel the knots being tied. Over the next few minutes it builds and builds, I'd do anything to stop the encroaching bile now. The nausea completely overwhelms my senses right before another round of the most violent retching I've ever experienced. Accompanied by the most awful squelching and splattering sounds as it hits the rest of vomit already resting at the bottom of the bag.

I feel like I'm nearing being turned inside out everytime it happens. And I've filled yet another vomit bag. This isn't going to stop for days as the doctor told me. I doubt I'll get the luxury of unconsciousness.

The activated charcoal they gave me to drink is like this black sludge, "slow and steady now, don't drink so fast you throw it all up but not so slow that you succumb to the consequences of your own actions." Well maybe that's not what they really said but it's how it felt. I can tell the staff are judging me, I just know it! They think I deserve this.

At least the charcoal is cherry flavored.

My many eyes dart around the clean and pristine hospital room erratically, glancing off in every direction. I don't want anyone to look at me anymore. I can't stand the buzz of the lights and I can barely bring myself to move enough to blink. Or even move enough to breathe. I am much too dizzy and light-headed to even consider standing up. I'm so dizzy I could swear I'm phasing in and out of my body. The only thing keeping my consciousness bound to this body is the unending pain ancoring me in the reality of my situation.

It's growing increasingly unbearable.

Above all else I am losing my mind trying to figure out where I went wrong tonight. These chemicals were supposed to fix all these feelings. The pills were supposed to fix me. My psychiatrists and therapists all told me that I'm sick, disordered, and all I needed was to buy a few more medicines.

It must be my fault, it must be if hundreds of milligrams of mood stabilizers can't just make it better.

Tell me, anyone tell me, why I'm so useless that I can't even help myself?

Why am I so worthless that my medicine won't work on me?

I am almost entirely suspended in unreality. The prozac, olanzapine, mirtazapine, and everything other useless drug they gave me were meant to cure me. I've tried everything!

I've done the very most I can to try and make the bad thoughts quiet down. And are the thoughts that tell me "I'd be better dead", my own thoughts, or a symptom of one of my diagnoses?

Is the reason I'm like this the same reason I don't deserve love, or do I not deserve love because I'm like this? I want to get better. I swear I really do.

So why does no one believe me?

"Sir, you have a visitor." The nurse informs me in a harsh yet hush tone.

The words barely make it through my chemical head. I'm practically catatonic in this hospital bed. But when I do process them I pray to every divine that it is who I think it is.

Red petals on the top and bottom, two yellow petals, one pink and one blue. I was right!

I can't believe he came all the way down to this void to come see me. I really thought he'd stay home. I don't think anyone or anything could possibly understand the pure desperation I feel coursing through my veins. Right alongside the saline they're using to flush my IV of course.

My boyfriend entered my hospital room, #34 I believe, I saw when they rolled me in on the stretcher. Tears well up in my dried eyes, I couldn't feel enough of anything to cry while drugged out of my head but seeing him, well, I need him more than I have ever needed anyone before.

The look on his face when he saw me is one I didn't know he was capable of, pure horror even. I must look horrible stained with my own bile in these itchy hospital scrubs. He is quick to clasp my hand in his and rub along my knuckles and the back of my palm. Through the blurred vision and tears I can't even make him out anymore but I don't need to, I just need his touch. I need it so badly.

I have no depth perception at the moment, or hand eye coordination, and again everything is quite blurry so it was mostly unintentional when I pulled him in by the sweater. He leans into me and wraps his arms under my upper back, holding me against his chest.

He's warm against me, holding me gently in a hospital bed. I can't feel much at all other than the pain, his warmth was the only other sensation I could pin down in my head. It was such a harsh contrast from how I normally see him acting.

With him so close I can't tell where he ends and I begin this time. Even in one of my most painful moments, I feel a familiar comfort in my palpitating heart. He's the only thing keeping me from going entirely mad. He has no idea what I'd give to melt into him right here right now, become an amalgamated abomination of our half hazardly bonded flesh and bone. I'm afraid I'd ruin him and all his perfection with me and all my misshapen and grotesqueness.

I am especially disgusting as of now, making him worry about me like this. Can I not be horrible for just one second? Selfish, that's it. I must be selfish. I take another go at speaking a moment after we pull away. All I can muster is an apology that comes out more like a pathetic stammer through my tears.

The way his cold gaze met mine shook me. I've never seen real tears stream down his face. He looks so... distraught. Its like he's looking right through me and simultaneously looking directly at me. And on top of everything I've never seen him sign so frantically. He rarely signs at all.

"Please don't be sorry."

…

"Don't strain your voice."

"Just stay right there, okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'll get you anything, I'd do anything for you."

I knew he cared about me, but I guess I never realized just how much. Or maybe I just forgot. How horrible am I?

Is it possible I'm actually worth something to him? Worth enough for him to call me an ambulance, worth enough for him to comfort me in the hospital bed, worth enough for him to cry over me?

Was I really worth staying with all this time?

My thoughts are interrupted by another round of retching, it seems those knots in my stomach weren't just anxiety. Mr. Plant holds my hand through it. I'm gonna be here a while, I know that. But he's here with me, and from the looks of it he isn't leaving my side anytime soon.

I'll make it out alive, not for myself, just for him. And for the possibility that maybe he needs me just as much as I need him. I wish my mind wasn't so scrambled, so I could find the words to express just how much I love him.

I love you Mr. Plant.

[commanderquinn]

a list of canon ways in which lillian hart is The Fucking Worst that cora coe deserves financial and emotional compensation for:

-the basis for the big divorce counseling mission is that cora's worried for her mother's safety. that means, before going on a deep cover operation with smugglers known to kill rangers, marines, or anyone else caught trying to interfere with their business, lillian didnt leave her daughter a heads up much less a lead. once the fuck again, this woman decided that her career was more important than her daughter's mental and emotional health. once the fuck again, this woman decided she could just disappear from cora's life and then come back out of the blue without consequence

-when you go to lillian's office to look for her at cora's request, the guy working the desk knows SAM well enough to know his name and give him shit like they've got a personal history, but he??? isnt sure about????? cora's name???? word for word, he looks at her and says "it's cora, right?" you're telling me that this woman doesn't talk about her kid enough for her fellow INVESTIAGATIVE rangers to be sure about her name??? are you SHITTING ME??????? get the fuck out of here. you cant push "ranger family values" and the close ties they have in one breath then claim she likes to keep a professional distance at work in the other. you wanna have the conversation about what fresh hell it is being a working mother in a position of power, lets go, ill have that conversation all day long. but lillian hart is not a fucking example of a working mother and im gonna be pretty fucking insulted for working mothers everywhere if i catch wind of ppl trying to pull that kind of defense card. the woman's an awful parent and should be held the fuck accountable for it. you wanna know how i know????

she doesn't say cora's name enough for the ranger watching the door to be confident in it, but he remembers alllll the stories of the captain her ex is cozying up to. and lillian is the one to confirm during the quest that she has been getting the stories from cora, so there's some clear "oh she already likes the stranger more than me." i know im reading into it because its fiction and none of these people are real, but ive also, y'know been in cora's shoes, so i can tell you from real life experience that shit does exist. idk if that was the writers INTENT, but it sure does a great job at reflecting a very sad reality

-sam points out its dumb that lillian wants to speed the ship, with her daughter on it, directly at the sydicate. idk abt y'all, but my ship was pretty dinky at that point bc i was focused on outposts, and we got ambushed by like 6 ship waves once we landed for that fight. again, i get it. game mechanics get a higher priority than realism. but this whole "we have to finish this because theres a chance you were spotted trying to rescue me" shit is so. nauseating. theres no demand to drop off cora somewhere safe, theres no "lets call in the cavalry." its this fucking egomaniac looking you dead in the eye and being like "i know i just traumatized the shit out of my kid but i need you to drive us into an ambush while she's still on board. hope you're a good shot because sam and i cant kill them ourselves." and so what that we did that????? YOURE TELLING ME IT WAS JUST THOSE SHIPS???? the rest of the organization is just going to LET IT GO???? like no fucking wonder sam sees himself as the better option even through all his fucking doubt. at least he knows when to turn the fuck around because shit is above his paygrade

-she has custody rights. she is a decorated and respected ranger. sam being a smuggler wasnt public knowledge, but point out one person in akila who wouldnt believe her in a heartbeat over it. everyone in town gives him nothing but shit, and they all side with his dad who was definitely no picnic to live with. im guessing big emotional detachment there, lotta interrogation and persecution rather than teaching and understanding. HELL, sam would probably own up to his past if lillian outed him for it, he's that type of idiot. at literally any point she could put in the effort to get legal council involved. if she's SOOOO by the law, whats the hold up there???? i agree the kid shouldnt be on my ship while im in the middle of a space fight. ive talked with sam about it, and im not even the kids parent (as of the personal quest). what the fuck are you doing about it lillian????????? oh thats right. we cant get lillian on the phone. whomp whomp.

-she made cora cry. hyper independent, "big girls dont cry" cora coe. multiple times. worse, she made cora cry because she made cora feel like she wasn't as important as lillian's career. i dont give a fuck what criminals are doing. i do not give a fuck. i give a fuck that that little pixel child got her heart broken and there isnt a dialogue for me to call out her mother for being a huge fucking cunt to her own daughter but theres a thousand and one options for me to tell sam he's parenting wrong. he is, and i have no problem using them when they're appropriate, but where the fuck are they for lillian??? why am i not allowed to tear this woman a new asshole at any point, but there's like 20+ extra dialogue options added to every single npc you have a persuade option with???? todd my head hurts and its your fault

-"im sure sam's told you all about me. go on. ask whatever you want." yet there is no option to ask what the fuck her problem is. so, clearly, i cannot, in fact, ask whatever i want.

-"but the looks i got from my fellow rangers reading alexander dumas... we do strange things for kids." yeah hart??? thats your standard????? THATS your idea of going out of your way for your kid??? literally how did sam fall for this woman oh my god i cant even listen to her speak without wanting to use the power of bitchhood i inherited from a long line of angry irish women to ridicule her to tears. maybe then she'll fucking understand how small she makes her fucking kid feel every time she turns a moment of bonding into a little "woe is me and my comfort zone oh how unfortunate i am to have a brilliant daughter that wants to connect with me through her greatest passion"

-she openly admits that she dumped the cargo sam was smuggling not because she felt any connection or sympathy or just didnt want to destroy someones chance at life in a capitalist society, but because he was a good pilot and she didnt want that talent to "go to waste" so she could recruit him. thats not really a thing against cora i just really fucking hate that and the picture it paints of her priorities as a human being

-"if we're going to be really honest here... back when we were a team... cora would follow you everywhere, like a little adoring dog. i... just fell out of it. long before we separated."

i literally. do not have words for how fucking disgusted i am by that line of dialogue. oh my fucking god. oh my fucking god. i. i TRULY would not even know where to start. the dog comparison makes me violently angry and if you'd given me a punch interrupt at that moment, i would have broken my keyboard punching the accept option

-go replay or watch a recording of that divorce counseling mission one more time. while you're doing it, imagine the roles reversed. imagine youre romancing a character thats a mother bringing cora into space, and the ranger standing in your cockpit asking to finish the mission is her father who took off to live at work once it was clear his little girl liked mommy better. imagine THAT while you listen to the (imo) out of fucking pocket dialogue where sam constantly praises lillian for being "a good ranger/woman." then you come back and tell me how comfortable you are with the concept of lillian hart as a character.

[bungone]

Actually no im not done because I know it gets talked about a lot but Lolita is such an interesting piece of media; not just the book itself but people's attitudes towards it.

like, first off, there's the actual author (nabokov) who goes out of his way to talk about how childish, mokeyish, immature and whatnot Dolores is in the most unnappealing possible ways, and then specifically said that he didnt want the kind of cover that every single fucking published edition of Lolita has?? With girls who are either being sexualized or very obviously having "a good time" which is absolutely not what Dolores was doing in the book?? I really, really, don't think anyone who designs these covers has even opened the first page because what. the. fuck.

It's so obvious that my man Humbert Humbert is an unreliable narrator, but gee, I guess we learned to take everything we read at face value, and also everything that comes from a protagonist's mouth as the "correct" way of viewing things, both in the book and in real life?

And even then, maybe, just MAYBE I can excuse the people who talk about how the book is fucked up because it's "glorifying pedophillia".

Maybe they had a really shitty english teacher. At the very least, they're reading it and understanding that the actions of Humbert Humbert aren't okay? They got to the halfway point. Maybe their education sytem failed them.

Maybe they had a really shitty high school english teacher that never taught them the skills necessary to understand this kind of writing. Maybe they're just dense, that's who they are as a person, and it would take someone going out of their way to point it out for them to consider the possibility.

But then there's the fucking apologists?? Like, putting aside the whole Dolores being 12 (which, yeah, is akin to putting aside the whole book, but bear with me for a second), Humbert Humbert not only kidnaps her (illegal), lies to her for a long time about her mother (not illegal but generally shitty), but is implied to have committed murder (illegal, not sure if implied is the right word here because it absolutely happened and everyone knows it), and sexually abuses Dolores (very illegal). These are crimes. He is a criminal. Say what you want about the justice system these are crimes that absolutely should be crimes.

He's clearly not an upstanding citizen, and I fail to understand how some people look at all his behavior and go "oh yes, the the man who killed a woman and kidnapped a 12 year old girl is just misunderstood, and he did those things for true love" like fuck no.

I like Lolita. It's an objectively good book. The quality of writing (high quality, I mean, I normally hate first-person writing but I actually liked Lolita), it's a great psychological horror piece that doesn't rely on things like shock value and overused tropes. The characters are all multi-dimensional and frankly, act realistically. But that's all it is. A psychological HORROR piece. It's not romantic. If anything, it's meant to make you sympathize with Humbert, and then you're supposed to take a step back and be like, "Wait. Why am I sympathizing with him? I'm not a pedophile." Because yeah, he's a complex character but that only goes to make him realistic in terms of the kind of pedos that exist in real life.

Pedophiles are people too. Mentally ill people, really, really shitty people who need serious help, but reducing them to "not human" only makes them an "other", which makes you forget that on the outside, they look like normal people. That have friends and family and go to school or have jobs and order coffe and read in libraries and yeah, maybe you sat next to one of them an entire year in organic chemistry. They're not weird stalkers that hang out in bushes in parks. Some of them, maybe, but not all. Nowhere near all.

man that derailed fast.

[starkeyletters]

•̩̩͙⁺𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 P1

N.P.S.O.M Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings - 18+, Mature theme, Drug & substance use, Violence, smut, mental illnesses, crime, cheating, toxic relationships, etc.

Wordcount - 2,5k+

Pairing - 𝑅𝐴𝐹𝐸 𝐶𝐴𝑀𝐸𝑅𝑂𝑁 x 𝙁𝙀𝙈 𝙊𝘾 [Reader] | 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 [ 𝑎𝑢 ]

Summary - Exs. Should stay exs. But when the pair cant seem to get off eachothers minds, things happen, mistakes are made. Its not like they changed, they were New people, making the same old mistakes.

A/n - Another start to a story, I hope you like this one. I have this story already fully planned, most chapters to come will be the next one for this.

“You said he wouldn't be here.”

You looked into the mirror that stood in the corner of Sarah’s bedroom, Your hands ran over your hips. Looking at the black mini dress you were in, You admired the way the dress hugged your body in all of the right places. 

“I only said that so you’d come,” Sarah glanced towards you, “And don't say you would've. I know you wouldn't have.” You didn't move, Its not like you wanted to do this, Especially after finding out Rafe was home and was in doubt going to attend the party. It was literally in his house, and he was not one to turn down a party.

It wasn't usual for you to run into Rafe, Which made avoiding him a whole lot easier. You missed him, alot. The two of you didn't end on the worst of terms, yet it was still bad. The relationship just was not working. Things went sideways, after he became distant, argumentative, and manipulative. So you thought it would've been for the best if the both of you stopped seeing each other.

Of course, breaking up with him was not easy. In your books, if someone isn't happy in a relationship, they arent going to stay in it. Apparently his books were different. 

What you didn't know was how bad the breakup had affected rafe. Whenever you saw him, he was either with some blonde girl, or acting like you never even existed. 

You were his first Real love. And he was yours, your first ever boyfriend too. 

The sleepless nights, when he felt alone disappeared when he was with you. When you left, that's all he could feel, those sleepless nights became sleepless again, it's like he lived off melatonin. He only trusted you, you were the only one who really knew him.

Having no one to run to, caused him to fall back into bad habits.

He was finally clean,

He was doing better,

Until the breakup

. He ended up re-lapsing. Finding himself in the place he tried fought so hard to get out of. He killed the good verison he created, by feeling as the only option left was to turn back to feeling nothing at all in unhealthy ways. Drugs. Hookups. You name it.

He blamed everything on himself, spending days in his room. Nothing could make him feel better, He didnt even feel at home, in his home. You were his home, his everything.

Now you were gone.

You and Rafe had one of the messiest histories you've ever had with another individual, from hookups, to enemies, back to hookups, friends with benefits, dating.The two of you dated for just over 6 months. The ups and downs in that relationship was a number for the books, that's for sure.

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You could hear footsteps leading up to Sarah's door at a very fast pace, you were too focused on trying to pull your zipper up fully on the back of your dress to stop and look at who appeared in the doorway. Sarah also took no interest in seeing who it was either, focusing on trying to clasp her necklace together. You could speak for the both of you when you 

“Sarah.” You heard that one familiar voice whisper-yell for his sister, that voice you could pick up anywhere. Even in a crowd of screaming people. You watched as Sarah rolled her eyes and the necklace was being  thrown to the floor somewhere, she sighed and turned towards Rafe.  your whole stomach felt as if it dropped once you heard his voice. Almost like the world stopped spinning. Like time was frozen. As if you were stuck in a recurring nightmare with no escape. 

Except you knew he wasn't there for you, he asked for Sarah. If he was these for you, he would have asked for you, right? Plus, Rafe didn't even know you were these up until that moment, and that is if he even took time to acknowledge the fact you were.             

“What do you want?” You heard Sarah snap towards the boy, you couldn't help but to look to see as to what was going on between them. Rafes hands flew in the air, moving in all sorts of directions. Oh boy, did that break your heart. To see that boy in such a state. He looked different, his hair was longer, it looked good. But him himself, not so much. His face looked different, his eyes. They showed nothing, That was not the Rafe you knew - not the Rafe you had loved.

“I- i uh-” He paced back and forth in the doorway of Sarah's room, You could tell he was on something, the state of distress he was in genuinely scared the crap out of you. You never could tell his next move when he acted that way. 

“I need- 30? Yeah- 30 dollars?” He paused, Looking up at sarah, she scoffed at his asking, her hands finding a place on her hips. You watched the way she attempted to shut him out of her bedroom with the door, But he just pushed it back open. “Bye!” Sarah sarcastically waved him off, but he was much stronger than sarah, holding the door back open.

“Please sarah! Jesus- i need it ok?” he went on, his voice sounded of desperation and fear. It cracking in between each word. You could tell whatever he needed that money for was either so important - one out of two situations is always the case for Rafe, like if he had a drug dealer he didn't pay so he had to get the money or whatever the guy is threatening him with will happen, Or he ran out of drugs and needed to buy more.

“Well maybe you should've thought about that before you acted like a complete jackass and spent all of the generator money on a stupid bike!” Sarah yelled, you really thought about just leaving for a split second. Until you heard sarahs bedroom door slam and she walked back to pick up her necklace. Rafe was gone.

“I have no clue how you dated my brother,” She began to go on, and on, about everything Rafe flawed. WHile trying to find her necklace. Reality is, you didn't want to listen to a word she was saying, “it wasn't that bad.” you cooed, You couldn't bare to listen to anymore of someone talk about a relationship they have no business in. Whether Sarah's your best friend or not, she has no right of saying the things that came out of her mouth.

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The moment your foot hit the last step is when you finally felt the adrenaline start to pump throughout your entire body. The music blasting loud enough to be heard from three streets over. People stood in every place imaginable. Red solo cups over the floor along with all sorts of other pieces of garbage. Oh god, was that ever going to be fun to clean in the morning.

You would be lying if you said you actually enjoyed things like this. You hated - despised then. The only reason you were there tonight was for Sarah, she went through the trouble of throwing this party to get you out, even though you told her on many different levels how you weren't ready just yet, that didn't stop her. 

Thankfully for you, Sarah ran off before the party even started to meet up with old friends she had from kook academy, shae, kelsey, and kaylee. Most likely they were somewheres down by the doc, where most of the guys hung out, guys that wanted nothing more than sex might I add. You could already tell this was going to be one, long, dreadful night.

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It wasn't long before you found yourself down some dark hallway just off the downstairs foyer, alone yet at peace. The music was muffled down that hallway so you didn't have to listen to any of that god awful rap being played. Pulling out your phone, you slid down one part of the wall, seating yourself as comfortably as you could get on the hardwood floor. Scrolling through instagram’s feed and viewing newly added stories, Sarah's story filled your ears with laughter and scream, your eyes with people jumping off the docs, Shotgunning beers, and acting like fools.

It wasn't long before you found yourself typing the name ‘Rafe Cameron’ into your search bar. Out of curiosity - you told yourself. Tapping on the account, Showed, as usual, No new update to his story, nor any new posts. Just the ones he had posted for years but never got around to deleting. Scrolling through his posts made you smile. Noticing the photos he didn't delete of the two of you did the complete opposite.

You heard a faint humming fill the hall, Footsteps approaching you. You looked down the hall, seeing what looked to be a teenage boy, around your age, stooped next to you. You watched as he looked down at you with the faintest amount of light that made whoever it was visible.

“Hey.. Y/n right?” the boy asked, you nodded, “Yes, and you are?” He took his hands out of his pockets, quickly putting his hand out for you to grab, “Jack- Jackson, but you can call me jack.” He stuttered, “Oh-k.” You took his hand willingly, standing up next to him. He had quite a tall figure, towering over you. 

“How about I take you to get a drink? How does that sound?” Jack asked you, you had no clue who this boy was, or why you were about to take up on his offer. But he seemed nice. It didn't even occur to you how he knew your name, But getting to know someone wasn't hurting anyone, especially yourself. You needed to get out there more.

The two of your guys' hands locked together as he took you down the hallway, back into the foyer. “Is it a bad time to tell you I don't drink,” you laughed, earning one from him as well. “Oh, trust me, that won't be a problem.”His hand stayed in yours, now leading you up the stairwell just off the foyer. This wasn't the way to the kitchen, that's for sure.

You let out a nervous laugh, continuing to go with this boy to the second floor, reaching a bedroom that was all to well known to you. Rafe’s bedroom. “I don't think this is where-” you put your hands to your side, before jack went beside you and pushed you into Rafes room, closing the door behind you and locking it from the outside. Jack stood outside the door, as Rafe ordered him too earlier, just in case you found a way to leave. “What the fuck Jack!” You turned, hands banging onto the door, trying to open it. The knob wouldn't budge.

“You wont get it open. It's locked. And Jack, for sure, isnt letting you out.” You heard another voice from inside the room. Becoming almost nauseous when you recognized the voice, almost immediately. It was rafe. This was a trap, Jack never wanted drinks with you. He set you up.

You turned around to see rafe sitting on the edge of his bed, his feet placed on the floor as he stared down at the floor, his hands resting in on and other in his lap, he looked almost ashamed. He should've been for his actions. 

“Your fucking sick.” you scold, pointing at him with a tear slipping down your face, They boy couldn't even look you in the eyes, let alone even look at you. He swallowed hard, his face wiping his face. “Look, i know what it looks like im doing but-” He pleaded.

“No! I know exactly what your doing.” You began to cry out,” You pay your friend with god knows what to lure me in here, and for what reason- To get me to suck your dick? To hook up, manipulate me, lie to me again? Is that it? I'll have you know there's hundred of other girls here who'd do just that-” Tears ran down your face, Rafe looked up at you, finally, a look of disbelief plastered on his face. 

Truth is, Rafe didn't want just any girl. He wanted you and only you. He loved the way you knew just what you wanted, always, and you never stood for less. The fact that you gave a shit about him.The way you weren't like the rest of them. You were different. You didn't just want sex, you wanted real genuine love. Rafe adored that.

He shook his head, his one hand hitting off of the side of his head, standing up he walked towards you. “No- I dont fucking want that Y/n.” You took a step back as he got closer. The tension in the room was enough to make your stomach drop. 

“Then what do you want!?”  you cried, looking up at him through your glasses, not being able to hide the look of such a beautiful expression of love on your face. “What do you want!”  You yelled, shoving into his chest repeditavely before his arms flew out to grab yours, steadying you from attempting to punch at his chest. This is not what you wanted to or planned to be doing that night.

“I just want to talk.. Can we do that?” He cooed, bending down to your height to look you in the eyes, holding your shoulders. As much as it pained you to even be near him, you nodded, catching yourself off guard when the two of you took a seat on the edge of his bed together. God, did that bedroom bring back memories. Memories you fought so hard to forget. 

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“You don't need to say anything. As much as I hope you do, you don't. I just want you to listen to what I have to say, because if it was up to me, things would have ended differently.” You nodded, scooting yourself back the whole length of his bed to rest against his pillows on the headboard. When he took a glance back at you he couldn't help himself when the smile on his face appeared. You did just what you would do when the two of you were together. And that gave rafe hope.

“I-i miss you. I miss you alot Y/n.” He began, sniffing, you could tell the poor boy wasnt lying when he said he missed you. “I still think about you… every day- i-im um.. Sure you heard how i've been d-” you took a deep breath, remembering what you thought were rumors, but turned out they were true about Rafes relapse. 

“I miss you too Rafe.” you moved back next to him. Looking in his eyes. You hated knowing what you put him through. Even though it was in no way your fault. “And yes, I heard what happened.” You closed your eyes, nodding your head while putting your hand in his. “But that never made me think any less of you, you know that..” You whispered. Leaning your head onto his shoulder as his eyes then shut, tears sleeping out of them.

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Taglist - @joselyn001

(DM or comment to be added to my tag list.)

5.21.23

@ starkeyletters 2023

[t4transsexual]

have you ever dated cis women? when did you decide to be t4t?

i have dated a couple of cis women, one for a little while and we didnt get on because she was one of those fems who doesnt want their butch/masc/transmasc partner to have feelings and needs and also didnt want me to say no to sex and we didnt last long because i was deeply unhappy with her

as for when i decided to be t4t, i guess its probably about time i open up about the specific instance(s) that lead to me deciding to be exclusively t4t, because i havent actually talked about what pushed me to make the shift into exclusively dating trans people. i was trying to run a more positive page and frankly i wasnt really ready to talk about this so publicly, especially with the terf/transphobe interaction i get almost all the time on this account, but i figure i can now and ill probably turn off replies if i can figure out how

tw for graphic description of sexual assault and transphobia under the cut

when i started medically transitioning, i decided to try dating guys again. keep in mind i had a lot of comphet before deciding i was t4t; i basically only really beat that around 2022 when i turned 20. and i matched with a cis guy on tinder, who looked like he had a lot of personality judging by his photos i was 18, almost 19 at the time

literally the first thing this man says to me, after i tell him im trans, is "oh, cool, i love femboys." red flag #1. i said, "im not a femboy, i present masculinely, dont call me that." he apologized, and we moved on

at some point, we're talking about sex. he says hes very subby and a size queen. all fine, i told him i was a stone top/dom, i didnt really like experiencing penetration and it was painful for me due to a condition i had at the time. he says thats fine, everythings good. this will be important later

later, he tells me he told his parents i was trans. i asked him why, given that he both didnt ask me first and said his parents were transphobic. he says "my mom asked, was i just supposed to lie?" i say, yes. he apologizes, i /really/ want to call the whole thing off at this point but he seemed nice enough that maybe he just didnt know trans dating as well as i did

the entire relationship, he just says transphobic shit. he told me that he "understood why people didnt want to date trans people, because its a lot of baggage." he was an active alcoholic by the way. and also dating a trans person. he would neg me for being trans and then turn around and say that i was such a hot guy. he even misgendered me one time, and got upset at me for getting pissed about it, and made me believe i was overreacting. he made me believe that he was doing me a favor by ever dating me

at some point, we're at my parents house, and he tells me he wants to fuck me with his penis. i tell him no, that i dont want to, that i dont know about it, that im scared, pretty much anything i can say to get him to reconsider, but he argued and said itd be good for me and that i can choose which hole but it became very clear to me that i had no choice. so i said he could fuck my pussy

it was excruciating. it hurt so bad, but i knew i couldnt say no. he couldnt stay hard unless he was degrading me and i didnt want him to, so he kept making me jerk him off so he could keep raping me

eventually he stopped, and i wasnt even really aware i had been raped at first. ive been sexually abused by several people in my life and generally it has taken me a while to accept when ive been sexually abused by a person. so we kept dating like normal, long distance btw, but my mental health was deteriorating. i was suicidal for the first time in a while. i was self harming again. i couldnt stop thinking about killing myself.

eventually, he breaks up with me for being suicidal. he says im guilt tripping him or something, i dont remember. and that was december of 2021

we go no contact. i still dont realize he raped me. but i knew that there was something deeply wrong in the way our relationship was

right after him, i dated a trans woman who we went to the same high school. just the difference in how i was treated by her than by him, with her she treated me like i was an actual equal in the relationship. with him, he felt he was superior to me; like he "owned" me, or something

we broke up, we werent really compatible, but when i got with her, she taught me what being t4t was, and the implicit understanding and the comfort and safety i felt. after we broke up was when i decided i didnt like men, and still remained t4t after

i realized what he did to me was rape nearly a year later. he correctively raped me for being a stone top, more specifically, and i dont think he wouldve been "empowered" to rape me if i was a cis man, or even a cis woman. i understand that the "off" feeling i felt throughout that relationship was because he, as a cis person, felt superior over me as a trans person, and felt that if he wanted to fuck me, i shouldnt get a say. he talked about doing other actions to me that i didnt want done at the time, certainly not by him, and if we werent long distance, he probably wouldve raped me several more times

being with my current girlfriend, we click in a way that i havent felt with any cis person, the women included. she definitely isnt going to rape me for being trans. ive undergone physical therapy so that if i ever got raped again, it wouldnt hurt as bad, and it worked and ive actually enjoyed bottoming (consensually) with my girlfriend. she makes me feel very safe, and we understand each other and each others needs as trans people very well, and being with her has helped me process the time i was raped, and the several other times ive been sexually abused by other people

now that ive had time to process these things, i would say that i dont feel the same way around trans people (including me) dating cis people anymore. when i first started this account, i wouldve never admitted this then btw, i fully did not think trans people should date cis people, because i had fostered such a deep distrust of cis people as a result of that whole relationship and assault. i believed cis people would always be bad partners to trans people, but i dont believe that anymore. in the very unlikely circumstance i find myself single again, i may even consider dating a cis woman again. but probably not, because ive grown to really like the implicit understanding that we as trans people get with other trans people

thats why im t4t, and when i became t4t was around the beginning of 2022

[romanarose]

Life update if anyone cares.

I only post this bc i was posting my depressing shit for months and a lot of people were reaching out in concern <3

cw sever depression, self harm, suicide, csa, SA, all the bad. but also lots of good <3

TLDR: Despite a god-awful semester, i got all a's and b's

Everyone thats been following me the last few months has seem my personal posts about how fucking awful things have been for me.

I've dealt with fact I can no longer deny that what happened to me was CSA, despite being on a milder side of things. That sparked an absolutely spiral. I didnt sleep for months which made things worse. School, I got an F on a midterm and i NEVER get F's on writing assignments.

Work had its complications and i quit and then rescinded that quit two days later. I was so constantly depressed in my dorm my roommate literally told me i needed to go to the basketball game with them bc i was sitting in a depression hovel none stop. I only went to services twice this whole time, one shabbat and once for Rosh Hoshannah.

I burned the ever living fuck out of my fingers, yall remember that one? lol.

In novemeber i had relapsed so severely on self harm i thought i had accidentally killed myself. I should've called 911. I thought I was bleeding out and/or going into shock. I then worked myself up more by going down pages of the internet about medical shook and people dying from it. that did not help my heart rate. I couldn't stand, I couldnt see straight for a while.

I could not afford an ambulance or a hospital stay as i am uninsured and only ork 25 hours a week. not a lot of money.

All this happened and I didn't miss work. This is not a brag, this is me not being able to makegood choices for myself.

Finally, thanksgiving break hit. Thank fucking god. I WANTED to use those 4 days of absolutely nothing to get to my TWO BIG RESEARCH PAPERS I HADNT STRTED YET but alas, I was SICK. I was so sick, in fact, and so hoped up on cough medicine for 3 days i was incomprehensible.

I was so physically ill, i couldnt even think about how mentally ill i was. I slept and slept and slept. And by the time sunday hit, I felt so recharged.

My failed midterm was so bad and so not me my professsor reached out to me. Im close with him (in a v appropriate way lol, hes a bruce springsteen fan too) and i felt comfortable telling him essentially that for a few months there things were severe, and I really should've gone in for a 72 hour hold multiple times and i was not safe. through a few lines of resources, I ended up back in therapy bc my school added a new therapist that is a woman (i stopped going last year bc i didnt like seeing a man)

I like my new therapist.

Anway, in about 2 weeks I wrote 2 12 page research papers, 2 book report papers, 1 science paper did 2 presentations, took 2 finals, wrote 2 more finals with essay questions, and at the end of it all, not only did I not fail any classes...

I GOT ALL A'S AND B'S! Which means my gpa is still high enough to renew my scholarship for my last year

I am so fucking proud of myself for accomplishing all this despite suffering so fucking badly. I havnt felt pain like that in years, just agony.

I had a down turn again over christmas bc my siblings were literally ass, upto and including making fun of me for not ating (i am multiple accounts of sexual trauma from several people, so im scared of dating), making fun of my eating, and my sister slapping me and my older brother hitting me. Was a bad time. But for right now, im in the place im staying for break (all january) im back at my old day care and they love me, and olive garden at this store has been going great

Im hoping next semester to be better, im hopful at least

Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has supported my writing has supported me through these times. It makes me happy that i came her to share my silly little moon knight x reader series, not really intending on writing a whole lot, but next thing i know, i have friends and a lil community. so thank you <3

[compassionatereminders]

i guess you could call this a vent or whatever but im going to tell you about something that has been making me crazy lately

so when i was like 3 i took a serious blunt force blow to the forehead. our house had hardwood floors and my brother had left a sock on the floor and i slipped on it and hit my head on the rounded corner of our oak coffee table. it left an inch long open wound and i was completely dazed and unresponsive, but conscious.

here is where i start getting frustrated. my mom didnt call 911 or take me to the ER, she took me to our family pediatrician. already really questionable imo but it gets worse. so ive got this gaping hole in my forehead and im unresponsive right? so what do they do? sew my forehead shut right there in the pediatricians office while i watched. didnt give me any anaesthetic or anything because i was, again, completely unresponsive.

then my mom was like "okay you arent bleeding anymore, can i leave now so i can go see the play i wanted to see?" but at this point im screaming and crying because im a toddler with fucking brain damage and a stitched wound that still hurts.

so she just took me home and that was that. and then for months afterwords she couldnt get me to wake up in the morning so she stuffed my limp body into my school clothes herself and took me to preschool half asleep. and then nobody ever spoke about it again except to make jokes.

its been two decades and i am only now realizing that ive had serious brain damage the whole time. my mom and brother have been shaming and belittling me for years for displaying symptoms of the brain damage that they gave me. my mom calls me a fucking spaz and my brother is pissed because he thinks i get "special treatment" instead of realizing that i need more help because he gave me brain damage. its like the final puzzle piece that explains why my life is such a mess.

and im just so overwhelmed by the fact that my mom and brother are directly responsible for the immense suffering ive endured over the past 20 years. all my health problems, the mental illness, the inability to avoid being abused, its all because of the brain damage. and they keep making fun of me for it. im not even mad im just. horrified. the sheer negligence of it all makes me sick. how many people like me are out there suffering from old brain injuries they didnt realize they had?

its like my brain cant even comprehend how fucked up the whole situation is. which is why im here telling it to you in the hopes that you will agree that its very bad 🙃

This is abuse and neglect on a level that no one and nothing could ever justify and I am so, so sorry that this happened to you. You deserved SO much better! ❤️

[horrendous-bisexual-showdown]

Poll 4

Solveig (She/Her) by @spellinwaiting

Why Should Your OC Win?

her life is so fucking hard she needs to win something just once

What is Your OC Like?

solveig is my tes oblivion oc and she has just SO many problems. imagine being severely mentally ill in a medieval fantasy setting with no access to proper mental health care. one time someone tried to mug her but then realized she had nothing and they felt so bad for her and the whole state she was in the mugger was like 'ok you need help' and became her friend. shes blessed to have an orc wife who loves her no matter how many times she sprints off into the woods in the midst of a manic episode. what else? she has a horse named 'horse' because she couldnt come up with anything better. she wants to be a heroic knight but is far better at killing people than saving them. her solution to most of her problems is to lie face down on the floor motionless for a while (also the picture is done by my friend whose url is @symbie not by me, i hope thats alright, also i put that here cause i didnt know where else to)

Chester Wayne Mallory (He/Him) by @liliflower137

Why Should Your OC Win?

Now at first glance Chester seems like he's on top of things. A talented inventor and programmer, a successful streamer, a husband and kids.

But even at the best of times he's an anxiety ridden mess, and while he would never do anything behind his husband's back he's still not immune to swooning over a hothot man

He's terrible at making decisions, his memory is a mess, and his empty nest syndrome is so bad he basically stole a kid once. And on top of everything, his last name means "an unfortunate person"

Plus there was that time he got trapped in a video game while live on twitch and died like 3 times. So embarassing.

Why not give him a win? He could use the self confidence boost!

What is Your OC Like?

Chester Mallory is a kind very family oriented man who gets attacked to people quickly. He tends to show his love through offering food, so his friends often have fridges full of his leftover spicy noodles.

His entire extended family consists of serial adopters, so his family reunions consists of lots and lots of found families

He lost his right arm in a terrible accident but taught himself to build his own prosthetic purely because he thinks the industry around prosthetics is bullshit

His friends tend to get pretty chaotic which usually leads to him playing the straight man and having to go take a nap after, but he still loves them more than anything, and would do anything to protect them all, especially his best buddies Boris and Malcom.

If you'd like to read about him, his story is "Something New" in the Hlvrai tag of ao3! His AU is called eternal stream! (The picture of him was drawn by @year2000electronics)