#and it’s just that my level of stress with that particular stressful situation got to the point where my regular suppressing tactics failed

[guest-1-2-3]

Me wondering why I feel so indifferent whenever I give my mother advice on things in our weird little therapy sessions and why i can speak so matter-of-factly about the fucked up shit and weird dynamics and things we navigate—i think i just hella suppress my emotions lol

[mikuyuuss]

I love that Mitsuri is a little silly and stupid at times, shes a girlboss AND a girlfailure to me <3 but apparently there are some people that genuinely dislike her for those things? I understand Mitsuri's character isn't for everyone, BUT WAIT, HEAR ME OUT.

I've always had this headcanon that Mitsuri had a somewhat sheltered childhood growing up, since In the Rengoku Gaiden, she randomly got discriminated by a stranger for her hair color, so I can only imagine that she probably got that on a daily basis.

I'm sure Mitsuri's parents don't enjoy seeing their eldest daughter bring harassed, so perhaps they might have coddled her a bit. Maybe that could explain why Mitsuri comes off as childish, innocent or """"stupid"""" as many people would say. For me, it's more like her personality just screams "sheltered kid", through no fault of her own tho.

(this is taken from the second fanbook, translated by @/violetheart08)

The fact that she's happy to have friends at the corps, suggests to me that she probably didn't have many friends growing up, she most likely got bullied too, and if that's the case, it's understandable that she can come across as overly friendly and excitable whenever she's befriending new people.

She's actually socially awkward like Giyuu, but just on the opposite end of the spectrum lol, that's why I love them both.

But still, it's not that Mitsuri is straight up incompetent. She's very creative and thinks outside of the box with her breathing style. She also adapts pretty well in high stress situations, we saw this in swordsmith arc, but also we see this very clearly in the Rengoku Gaiden too.

The fact that it only took her two years to become a hashira shows that she has a level of discipline to attain that title. Not only did Rengoku trained her well, this is also no feat that a truly "stupid" person can achieve.

The reason why I have this particular headcanon about Mitsuri is because some families do put A LOT of importance on reputation, especially asian families, when their kids start showing traits that would make them "different" they tend to "hide" the kids in order to protect their reputation so they won't lose their chances at marriage.

(Though I'm not saying all asian families are like this. This is mostly just based on my personal experience that I won't elaborate further)

It reminded me of this scene, when Mitsuri's family suggested that she can just stay with them forever when she was worried that she won't be able to find someone. I love Mitsuri's parents and they are VERY GREAT for their time, but also this is really relatable to me personally :(

And given how marriage was such a big deal in Taisho era, I imagine that it was a mixture of that and the pressure to conform and protect their daughter at the same time that led me to imagine that Mitsuri probably had a sheltered lifestyle.

And you know it's possible that I'm wrong about all of these lmao, but just the fact that she has a comparably normal childhood is a good enough reason as to why she's more positive and naive compared to her peers. I know this is all just a headcanon, but I do wish people can be a bit more considerate towards Mitsuri before hating on her for being "loud" "stupid" and "annoying"

[veeisdunn]

can you write something to do with exam stress, loneliness and suicidal thoughts (if you're comfortable with it) finals season is coming and it would comfort me a lot. could it be a tommy x sister reader? Maybe the reader is stressed about her exams and is being bullied in school. I really enjoyed your first two fics (the sh ones) and I would really appreciate this. Lots of love xxx

Bargain

Tommy Shelby x sister!reader

I'm sorry that this took so long! It is kind of ironic as I'm also going through this right now with my A-Level exams. I understand how dark things tend to be getting in these times and you sound like you've got a lot on your plate. I really hope you enjoy this, I made it especially for you! ♡

warning: suicidal thoughts and actions

WC: 3.6K

MASTERLIST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

One day, though you couldn't remember when, the jokes stopped being funny. Your classmates were relentless - to them you were gypsy scum, the spawn of a criminal family. You used to laugh along but the taunting wore you down. 

It didn't help that you began to shut your family out as well. Ever since you passed the entrance exam at that God forsaken grammar school, you withdrew. Too much reading and research to tally up the betting books and mediate domestic disputes.

As you moved onto your final years of education, you saw a way out of your family's situation - if you got into university then you wouldn't need to join the family company or marry a rich man to escape. You could have your own career which didn't break the law.

Of course, in the 1920s, this was no easy feat for a woman - or anyone. Luckily for you, you were attending one of the best grammar schools in the country, but, though you weren't in poverty, you were at a disadvantage with your peers. Most of your classmates had options: they had a dad with a PhD, a legal family business or an arranged marriage with a wealthy man lined up in case they failed their studies.

The pressure seemed never ending. You needed this, there simply was no other option. You had to grapple with this reality as well as deal with the tormenting of your classmates and the fear that one of your family members would end up with a bullet in their heads. 

You didn't speak to anyone in your family about your crippling concerns. You didn't think they'd see the value in a university education - especially for a woman. 

School work distracted you to such a point where you didn't even notice Tommy's concerned presence shadowing you most days. He just kept popping up everywhere you went. 

School gate? Tommy.

Library? Tommy.

The kitchen at 3am? Tommy.

Did that man even fucking sleep? 

Eventually, you "confronted" him. You had a tradition of being in Charlie's Yard on a Friday night. You would sit and look into the water - laughing, crying, sometimes screaming in frustration. This was a solitary activity, but one particular Friday, Tommy was already waiting there for you.

"(Y/N)!, you're late!" He shouted across the yard, taking a puff of his cigarette with a cheeky grin.

Fuck’s sake.

You hurry your pace, slushing your boots in the mud making your way to the wooden dock. “What are you doing?” you call out, frustrated.

“Is a man not able to sit, eh?” Tommy shuffled over and gestured for you to sit. You just huffed in response and remained standing.

“Look, Y/N/N, I can leave if you want, but I just wanted to see you? You’re always buried in a book these days.” His tone turned more sympathetic. You relented and sunk down next to him.

“I can’t be long. I have an essay, Tommy.” You spoke timidly, you were mentally prepared to break down alone but now you had to hold yourself together.

“You have the weekend.” He turned to look at you but you turned away.

“No. I have more work for the weekend.” You choked and turned your body so you were facing away from his stare, “I have a lot of work to do. I’m bloody drowning in it Tommy.”

He took a deep, prolonged breath and discarded his cigarette. “I think, Y/N, I think you need to spend a lot less time on work. Aren’t your friends all out on a Friday night? Why don’t you join them?”

You scoffed. “Friends? No one wants to be friends with a gypsy, or a Shelby.”

This struck a nerve with Tommy, he was also both of those things, yet he was respected and you were isolated. “Yeah? Say’s fucking who?” 

“People at school.” “And why are you listening to them?” “Because - it’s just hard. You wouldn’t get it. I’m so fucking worn down.”

The man took another sigh, realising he was fighting an uphill battle. “Your classmates aren’t in Small Heath, you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone here, you know that?”

You shook your head rapidly “No. No Tom, I don’t care about my social life. If I don’t do well in my exams, I’ll never get into University. I need to go, I want it so bloody bad.” You were so engrossed in your emotions that you didn’t even feel the salty tears run down your cheeks.

Tommy was taken aback by your reaction. He couldn’t fathom why you were putting so much pressure on yourself. Of course, he would rather you made your goal something a bit easier than perfect grades, but then whatever you dream was became his by proxy. He had spoken to your teachers, they were certain you’d get the grades you needed. They had even mentioned your tendency to overdo things, but things weren’t nearly as bad at home at that time so he disregarded it. What a stupid mistake that was.

He was about to reach out to touch your hand, but you could feel the floodgates bursting, so you tried to leave. 

“Y/N!” He shouted, following close behind you.

Go away. Go away. Go away.

“Look, I didn’t fucking ask you to come here.” You snapped as he grabbed your arm.

“You didn’t need to. Your my fucking sister, you don’t need to ask. I didn’t want to be so blunt but you need to calm the fuck down with the books, ay?" 

"No. You don't understand." You shook your head adamantly , "if I don't do well in my exams, then what's the fucking point in anything anymore?" 

—

"So, how'd your chat with Y/N go?” Polly asked her nephew as the evening dawned.

He settled into the sofa and took a deep inhale, rubbing his cold, sweaty palms together. “She didn’t take it very well. She probably just came back here to study more upstairs.

Polly leaned forward in her seat: “she never came home.”

Shit.

“Did you upset her, Thomas?”

“I couldn’t tell you. She’s hard to get these days.”

—

Tommy thought little of her absence. The library closed at 6PM - she’d be home by 7.

7:30. Still no Y/N. 

He went to check your room to see if you’d slipped in and snuck to bed. Your room looked like it had been ransacked. Books, pencils, papers, and clothes covered every surface. Your bed was unmade and the curtains were drawn. It reminded the man of a house that had been robbed. The air was stagnant and cold.

On your bed, a book stood out to Tommy. It wasn’t a textbook or workbook, it was a small leather-bound diary with fraying ribbons pulling it shut. Without much thought, he settled down onto the bed and yanked the curtain open, amber sunset pouring in. The book felt heavy and the spine was stressed. He noticed that lots of other papers had been shoved between the pages.The edges of some were visible, your handwriting adorning them. He pulled the end of the matted ribbon firmly undoing the knot and allowing him access to what he came to realise was your diary. He flicked to the latest entry and saw it was dated for just the day before. He skimmed your scrawls: I will never be good enough, I just can't do it. I can't do anything anymore.

After freezing for a second he slammed it shut and threw it against the wall. He was fuming with the situation, and with himself. He knew you were struggling but he thought it was your need to prove yourself to your bullying peers - he could have never dreamed that you hated yourself this much.

Without much more thought, Tommy grabbed his coat and practically launched himself out of the door. He wasn't going to come home until he had you with him.

—

After your altercation with Tommy, you found yourself back by the cut. Your emotions were always heightened there, you tried not to go to the part where your mother jumped in, that was usually reserved for the anniversary of her death, but for some reason your feet carried you down there. You never knew her and by the sounds of things, you were very different people. You didn't even know why she did what she did, you were too young back then to understand. One thing you did know was how she must have felt. The feeling of utter despair. The loneliness. 

You'd had a serious case of suicidal ideation since the start of your new school. In the back of your mind you always knew what to do if everything became too much. You had written letters to everyone and stuffed them under your pillow. You were ready. Perhaps tonight was the night?

This revelation almost gave you a twisted sense of euphoria. I don't need to go home again. I never have to write another essay. I never need to be called another name. No one will need to look after me. I can just end it all. 

These thoughts carried you to the edge of the water. You thought about how your mother would have felt drowning and freezing. Calm, hopefully. Release. 

You collected some large stones from the dusty mud around you and stuffed them in your coat pockets. You figured that being pulled down would make you go quicker. You knew that your brothers would be sad but you also knew that they'd move on. They'd done it once before, they could do it again. After all, they all had lives and you had nothing but stress and pain and anguish. 

Looking down into the gloomy water you could feel cool droplets splashing onto your face and mixing with your tears. The abyss was inviting, your doubtful thoughts that had stopped you in the past were whispering to you but you told yourself that you wanted this. You wanted this, right?

You took your shoes off and laid them neatly at the edge of the water. 

A leap. A splash. A scream.

Cold.

Then you felt someone grab you.

—

Tommy had barely made it in time. He saw you, shoeless, on the edge of the cut. He could only shout and run after you as you descended into the water. Without hesitation, he jumped in after you and grabbed you. He tried to pull your body up to the surface with him but you were fighting him. Your coat was sinking first, weighing the both of you down, so he wrestled it off you. All either of you could hear was splashes and all you could feel was the paralysing blanket of cold.

Holding onto your wrists, he went up for air to gather strength, before diving back under to pull you up. You were barely underwater for a few minutes but the frigid water had knocked you out. Tommy paddled to the steps a few metres away from where you'd jumped and pulled his drenched body onto them. He wheezed and gasped for air then dragged you up the steps by your armpits. The water level was particularly low so the steps seemed to go on forever. He'd boarded boats from these steps but never did he think he'd be ascending them with your limp body.

Your breathing was shaky and erratic. Tommy was just glad you were breathing at all. He laid you down in the dirt and rolled you onto your side just in time for you to involuntary convulse and cough up water while he hyperventilated. He firmly patted your back as your lungs cleared. Despite the heaving, you were still unconscious. Your lips were going a dusky shade of blue and the skin around your eyes was darkening, either from the cold or the lack of oxygen, he wasn't sure. 

Tommy desperately tried to get control of his breathing so he could compose himself but his body was viscerally reacting to the shock of the cold water overwhelming his senses. He was in such physical anguish that his emotions had completely dulled. He'd honed the ability to turn his thoughts off while in the trenches and it often came in handy. 

His main priority was getting you warm and dry. He tried to drag you up but didn't have the strength in his cold and wet state. Instead he had to resort to shouting for help, knowing that there were Blinders at the entrance to the docks. A few of Tommy's associates came around the corner, their coats flying in the wind behind them and the group of them managed to carry you back to Watery Lane while your body continued to involuntary spasm due to the cold. 

Nobody else was in the house so Tommy flung your body on the floor in front of the fireplace and set a copious pile of logs on fire. He hunched over you and basked in the heat, ripping off his coat, hat, and suit and discarding them into a pile. After sitting for a moment shivering in a vest and underwear, he ran to the kitchen and grabbed a towel.

In the living room, you'd rolled over so you could be closer to the heat, you weren't entirely sure what was going on but you liked the feeling of the warmth against you.

He ripped your drenched shirt off you and tried to ring your hair out with the towel. You were mumbling something incoherent but he ignored it. Your body laid next to the fire as he dried himself off. 

You awoke when he accidentally knocked a book off the coffee table. Your body felt numb and you were extremely confused. He rushed over as you tried to roll away from the fire.

"Tommy?" you croaked, even more confused than you already were. What was he doing here? The look on his face then reminded you. He was drenched. You'd actually done it. You'd actually done it and he stopped you.

You ignored his demanding stare and sat up, coughing. You wheezed, holding your hands around your neck to reassure yourself that you weren't drowning. 

You didn't drown, but you were soaked to the bone. 

"What were you thinking, eh?" Tommy studied your startled expression, you couldn’t tell if he was mad, disappointed, or feeling sorry for you, "What the hell is going on with you?" 

You remained silent and refused to look up at him. 

"Y/N, what did you just do? And don't tell me that you fell. Your coat was full of stones." 

He was going to make you say it. Dick.

You could only think of two words: “I’m sorry.”

Tommy scoffed and sat down in front of you. “You’re sorry? You are sorry?”

Did he want to know why? “I’m sorry that you jumped in and got wet. You look cold.”

He was physically taken aback by your words. “The only thing you should be sorry for is not talking to me.” He picked up the towel and began to dry you, understanding that trying to reason with you in this state was no better than arguing with a brick wall. After your hair was no longer dripping, he brought you dry clothes and made you discard your wet ones in the bathroom while he pressed his ear up against the wall to listen to your every move.

Tommy was angry with himself. He’d sat back and watched the pressure on you accumulate, only realising when it was too late. You’d nearly died. Y/N. His baby sister. The girl he held as a baby. The girl he read bedtime stories to. The girl he taught to ride horses. The girl he loved unconditionally. It was fate that had just saved your life - he very easily could have looked for you somewhere else and that would have cost your life. The thought made his heart hurt. You’d nearly died. You’d nearly died. Before he’d even realised, he was crying against the doorframe as you left the bathroom. 

You tried to apologise again but he ignored you and wrapped you in the tightest hug you’d ever felt. He was scared to loosen his grip as he feared you would slip away. He cried gut-wrenching sobs into your shoulder. You gave in and began to cry as well. You couldn’t even figure out why. You were plagued with a viscous mixture of anguish and guilt - you were also still really fucking cold, the pair of your shivered in eachother’s arms. 

Tommy pulled away and stared directly into your eyes. Instinctively your gaze turned to break the exchange. You couldn’t stand his distraught stare, it made you want to vomit.

“Y/N” He took a deep breath, “I’m here now and I’m not leaving you ever again, so you better tell me what the fuck is going on inside that head, eh?” You gulped. Only one coherent thought was running through your head. “Cold.”

With those words, the pair of you were huddled next to the fire.

“I’m gonna fail, Tommy.” The admission slipped out.

He held back his rant he’d repeated to you countless times and let you continue. All he wanted to do was scream and shout, to tell you and the rest of the bloody street how talented and capable you are.

“I want to make something for myself just like you have but I can’t do it. I just feel like I can’t do anything right. If I’m a good person then why do people hate me?” You took shaky breaths to process the thoughts you’d aired. Tommy pulled you in so you were resting on his side while the fire crackled in front of you. He waited to say anything until he could be sure that you were finished.

“Look, Y/N. Some people in this world are just full of hate, they wouldn’t know kindness if it hit them between the eyes. You just want to make everyone happy but you can’t because some people are gonna fucking resist until they die. I’m so proud of you, Y/N, you have grown up to be a talented and smart woman. You will make a life for yourself as long as you remember that. If you want to do that through school then, by all means, go for it, but there are other ways. What you need is some time to rest, and you need to get away from that fucking school. You’re in your final year, just finish things off at home, I’ll get you a tutor or anything you need as long as you never go back.”

He leaned back against the sofa to physically recover from his speech. He couldn’t see your face but he watched as you curled your body into a tight ball and leaned in even closer to you.

“It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore. Everything is so dull. I’m not happy.” No shit. And then you began to cry for what felt like the millionth time.

He just held you and stared into the flames. “Shh shh, no, it’s alright. you’re fine, shh. No more anything for the rest of the weekend, Dr Shelby’s orders, alright?” You chuckled lightly while he remained serious,  “Over my many, many years, I’ve realised that if you work on something forever it never gets done well, but if you take enough breaks and are kind to yourself, it will get done. I can bet everything that you will become a strong and independent woman one day.”

After a few more back and forths, you spilling your negative thoughts and him retorting with a classic Tommy speech, the two of you fell asleep by the fire, the heat thawing the pain you’d both felt. Tommy came to the conclusion that you were simply too good for this world, but he knew you better than anyone and was certain it would all work out for you in the end.

The next morning, the pair of you made a deal that you would tell him about all the bad thoughts you were having and he promised he’d always be there to listen. After a few meetings with a doctor and your school, Tommy set you up a study area in his office. The two of you would work during the morning, eat lunch together, then you’d shadow him in the afternoon to - as he put it - “learn from the master”. 

You took time to reflect on the things that really mattered to you - not the things that really mattered to the girl who was hated by her peers and would have died for flawless grades - the things that mattered to you, Y/N Shelby. You cared deeply about those around you. Seeing how broken Tommy was after your attempt made you want to cooperate with him and your doctor to become well enough to live the life you so desperately craved. It was almost ironic that you’d nearly taken that opportunity from yourself.

You still had days when the light at the end of the tunnel faded and you’d again lose sight of your future, but keeping up with his side of the deal, Tommy was always there to coax you out of it. 

When you were younger, your brother taught you lots of things, and now he felt like he was giving you a final, important lesson. To learn to use your life, because he could so clearly see the potential you have.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

please drop me a comment or message with any feedback or suggestions! I'd love to hear from you ♡

Vee x

MASTERLIST

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

saw speak no evil last night, which i really enjoyed! it proved to be my very favorite kind of stressful movie, i.e. a slowburn thriller where people go to a beautiful and remote location and then Things Go So Wrong! it reminded me a lot of other faves ex machina, men, 10 cloverfield lane, the menu, ready or not, the recent blink twice, etc.

just some thoughts about this movie (spoilers!)--

+ i really enjoyed all the gender role stuff going on in this one a whole bunch. this is, of course, a classic gothic romp in my eyes. therefore, watching the dad -- down on his luck, feeling emasculated by his female family and by life not favoring him as much as it was supposed to! -- get seduced by the alpha male andrew tate-y bs embodied by james mcavoy's character, like the dad was but a shrinking naive gothic heroine missing or even lusting after all the red flags, was SUCH a fun subversion to me. yes! yes!!!

+ every time that mackenzie davis's character tried to establish boundaries and they got run over and then she let it slide to be palatable, i viscerally FELT THAT. there was, of course, a big element of 'privileged people wanting to appear woke so they keep being boundlessly pityingly nice to the poor people', but even deeper than that, i think this was a great portrayal of how women in particular are expected to constantly accommodate and ignore their intuition. the bit with making her eat the goose. D: and it got worse!

+ i also really liked how in the big showdown, the mom and the kids were the ones who actually took out the enemies, and the dad was the only one without a 'kill' to his name. (though he did sacrifice himself by jumping off the roof, mirroring Accomplice Wife's self-sacrificial death!)

+ gosh, the dark implications re: Accomplice Wife's character were so harrowing - the victim becoming the abuser - and the fact that the little girl was being primed to follow in her footsteps ..... D:

+ i enjoyed that the kids were the ones who had the sort of Big Finding Bluebeard's Closet Of Dead Wives Reveal. (my bf pointed out that this is a bluebeard story, and it so is! my favorite!) that sort of ASOUE-y feeling of kids having to make it on their own because adults aren't a guaranteed source of safety. MAN, poor ant. :'( that kid had a HORRIBLE time. i really admire his persistence in keeping on fighting and trying to communicate.

+ i saw someone in the reddit discussion thread say that couple vs. couple is an underrated trope, and i agree! would love to see more of that in cinema.

+ love how the title operates both on the level of "this kid can speak no evil about what we do because we cut his tongue out" AND "don't ever say anything mean to people or you might hurt their feelings and what could possibly be worse than that (oh, this, i guess) 😬"

+ can't believe they did nick miller's favorite song cotton eyed joe so dirty like that. :( that scene honestly brought tears to my eyes from pure misery. the fact that some parents really do treat their kids like that ...................... (even if that wound up not being totally the situation in this particular movie). disgusting and heartbreaking.

+ the most a+ "eternal flame" use since gilmore girls.

+ after i watched the movie i read up on what the original film was like, and may i just say: that would have broken me psychologically in the movie theatre. thank god i didn't have to see that. THANK GOD! sometimes american optimism really works for me, honestly. if it's a gothic, then in the gothic, they've always got to make it out at the end!!! bruised and bloodied and haunted but still standing! so i'm really glad they did!

+ it honestly never occurred to me that people would thirst over james mcavoy in this movie, because he's so gross and horrible, but it takes all sorts to make a world, it turns out. the internet teaches me that every day!

+ anyway, i had a great time watching this! would definitely watch again! but gosh, was it a special kind of fun and stressful to watch it unfold the first time.

[xxnghtclls]

Permission

Chapter 38

(Chapter 37; Chapter 39)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

Dessert

Knock

Knock

Knock

Fuck.

You jump, not expecting to hear someone knocking at the door, especially not in this particular moment. Sukuna, however, grabs your hand before it can slip away and presses his arm against your back.

No way out. He’s got you in his hold.

And he chuckles, amused by your cute way of stressing out, while you wiggle in his hold like a fish on dry ground, not wanting to be seen like this. The door slides open and you hold your breath. Staring at your fingers pressed into his grip, you hear a maid walking slowly into the room with a cart.

Goddamn his dinner. I forgot.

His nails scratch softly against the small of your back, while your face is pressed against the side of his chest. A bit too harsh for your taste, he’s making it hard for you to breathe.

You manage to peek to the maid and you see Akiko, walking with her head held low, like she’s supposed to. Relief spreads in your gut, remembering her words and enjoyment about you and your King, making you lose your tension a bit.

However, the shy feeling in your chest is still there. Especially when he holds you like that.

She pauses for a second after she placed the cart right in front of the small tea table. Kneeling down, she collects the ceramics and puts the table onto the lower level of the cart, ready to be taken back to the kitchen in the morning. She leaves the bowl with the apples next to Sukuna’s prepared plates and you like to think she left them for you, before she turns around and walks back and out of the door, with the now cold teapot and cups in her arms.

“Tidy.” he comments as soon she’s out.

“Lemmego.” you mumble against his skin and he huffs, before he loosens his grip on you and you sit up, sighing out the anxiety.

After a moment his lips find your right shoulder.

“Why so nervous?” he whispers. “You said you want to be my Queen. Then start acting like one.”

Your heart drops and your face looses it’s colour, as his words vibrate against your skin.

Did he really mean it?

“No one is allowed to look until I say so. You of all people should remember that.” he continues.

You feel his red eyes stare at the side of your cheek, as he kisses your shoulder. His voice and words so dear and soft, you want to melt.

“I felt vulnerable.” you admit, trying to keep focus after what he just said. “Shy…”

He huffs softly against your skin, the warm air from his nose gives you goosebumps.

“…because I’m naked, lying in your arms… my hand playing with yours.” a blush rises to our face. “It felt intimate and…” you hesitate.

“Mhh?”

“… romantic.” your cheeks are cooking.

He chuckles, before he bites your shoulder and you flinch. Sukuna leans in and his lips brush against your ear.

“Cute.” he whispers with a smirk.

You turn to him and frown at him questioningly.

“You never feel vulnerable, do you?” you say, making him grin playfully, while shrugging his shoulders.

“No weakness, no fears.” you continue, while you watch him. His eyes lock with yours again, his eyebrow cocks at your words.

And he stares.

Your heart skips a beat, making you almost crumble under the weight of his gaze.

Shit.

“Oh!” you exclaim, putting an overacted expression on your face. “What if it’s me?” you dramatically put your right hand on your heart, notice how he frowns at you with amusement and soft eyes. You try your best to overplay this situation, hoping that your heart will survive any hint from him that you are, in fact, his one and only.

“What if I get hurt? What if someone stabs me to death?” you continue your dramatic act and let yourself fall back onto the sheets, putting the back of your left hand on your forehead. “Will the great Ryomen Sukuna avenge my soul?”

In the corner of your eye, you see Sukuna leaning over to you, while you continue.

“Will the King of Curses mourn my dead and lifeless body? The body of the woman he lov-“

“If you only knew.” he cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks tightly, his face hovering close over yours and you realise that your attempt to overact just made the situation worse. Heart is beating heavily against your ribcage, as you look with big eyes into his smirking face.

“Knew what?” a voiceless whisper escapes your throat.

His smirk grows and he chuckles darkly, before he kisses the tip of your nose and loosens the grip on your cheeks. You try to focus, after what he just said, as he gets up, but your eyes get lost in the way his ass moves with every step he takes, while he walks over to the cart.

And you get up as well, watch him take the first bite of something human, as you approach him. You let your fingers brush against his buttcheeks, feeling his soft skin and fine hairs beneath your fingertips, as you walk past his back, making your way to the bowl of apples. Reaching for one of them, his deep voice suddenly hits your ears.

“Eat with me.”

His request makes you smile, as you’re about to bite into the fruit.

“Of course, my Ki-“ your words get stuck in your throat, as you look over to him and see him offering you a piece of meat.

Not a finger. Not the heart. Just a slap of meat. Like a steak.

Your lip is trembling, unsure how to react or what to say. Looking from the meat in his hands, back up to his eyes, you see his honest face, his eyebrow risen in expectation, as he bites off a chunk of another piece.

“Is this how your Queen would act? Eat with you?” you ask him.

A sinister grin spreads on his face as he continues to chew, his eyes start glowing. Sukuna swallows and cocks his eyebrow.

“Maybe.” he hisses.

You blink, looking back to the slap of meat in his hands.

Bloody. Red colour staining his fingers.

You lean in and sniff.

It smells how you would imagine a raw, bloody piece of meat to smell like. Inedible.

“Do you know who it is?” you ask, not leaning back.

“No.” he answers. “Do you care?”

His fingers softly squeeze against the meat, more juices are being pressed out by his force.

“No.” you answer truthfully, hypnotised by his fingers. It’s been a while since you ate something decent and it’s showing. Having you even considering to bite into this piece of human meat is something you wouldn’t do otherwise.

Just go into the kitchen.

Eat the apple.

Crack.

Sukuna bites into a finger, his hand still holding the meat under your nose.

It doesn’t look like it’s… human.

Eat the apple…

You blink.

…or be his Queen.

Your stomach rumbles, saliva pools in your mouth. Sukuna watches you, calm, chewing, while you open your mouth and let your teeth close around a tiny edge. He stops chewing, his stare so intently. You look up to him and rip the piece off. His lip twitches in excitement, before the mouth on his stomach opens and swallows the remaining piece.

And you chew.

The tiny piece doesn’t taste much different than blood. The texture not much different than regular meat.

But it’s not about the meat. It’s about the step you took.

For him.

The devotion.

The Queen and her King.

You swallow.

Disgusting.

Evil.

Your insides churn, before your attention is brought back to Sukuna, whose bloody fingers wrap around your chin and he leans in quicker than you can react. His lips meet yours, his tongue slides into your mouth, licks over your tongue, tasting and savouring you. His motions calm and tender, it makes your knees weak. He purrs, while he breaks the kiss.

“Mhmmm. This taste on your tongue.” he mumbles, his voice vibrates against your lips. “Raw.”

“Please don’t get used to it, my King.” you whisper earnestly into his eyes and they grow soft, wrinkles paint into his skin.

I love you.

His eyebrow twitches at your thought and you can’t help to think that he looks so in love with you as well, so happy that you’re there with him in his chambers. Your heart flutters.

Sukuna straightens his back again and you notice his fleshy cocks in front of you. Veins protruding, pumping blood slow and steady. Looking delicious. And you’re salivating again, staring.

“Still hungry?” he whispers.

“Yes.” a voiceless whisper, before you rip your eyes off his dicks to look up to his face, seeing him about to bite into the next finger, while his bottom left eye keeps watching you.

Crack.

“And I see you are, too.” you add. “So it’s true. That insatiable hunger of yours.”

He chuckles, before he swallows.

“Maybe you have it, too.” his voice so arrogant, as he turns back to you. “I can basically see the spit pooling in your mouth.”

Your eyes fall back down to his ever growing cocks.

“How can I not?” you whisper with a smirk on your face, making him chuckle.

Sukuna leans back down to you and places a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Be careful not to bite.” your King hisses into your ear, before he turns and walks back to the bed. Eyes glue themselves to his ass, as he walks, only being ripped off of it, as he lets himself drop onto the soft surface. A carnally desire sparks in your mind and you rush after him, hopping onto the bed.

“Turn around.” you order with a nudge of your head.

Sukuna frowns at your sudden command, before a smirk crawls back on his lips. You cock your eyebrow in expectation, while he just stares at you, not moving an inch.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” you say sternly, hoping he won’t be mad.

His lip twitches, as his smirk fades and his eyes grow dark. Your King leans forward, close to your face.

“Watch that little mouth.” he threatens with a voice that’s not threatening at all, not for you at least, before he turns around and lays on his stomach, crossing his upper arms in front of him, while his bottom arms just rest next to him.

You smirk in victory, while climbing onto his ass, straddling it, before leaning forward.

“Watch it? Gonna make you feel it.” you whisper hungrily into his ear. “…my King.” you add, before placing a kiss onto his left shoulder, earning a deep grumble from his chest.

“Gonna make you feel my lips and teeth and tongue.” you hiss against his neck.

His head turns a little, his bottom left eye staring at you. You notice and place a kiss on his cheek, before you lean back again, feeling his plush buttocks against your cunt.

And you take in the sight, his pretty back in front of you, his stare in the corner of your eye, not knowing whats coming next. Your eyes wander from the back of his neck, over his tattoos, to his shoulders. The way his four arms split from his body fascinates you.

Beautiful.

You watch the curve of his back, how muscular he is, until your eyes stop right in front of you, at the crack of his ass.

“My King?” you say softly, before looking back up to his face.

“What is it?” he grumbles and you suppress a grin. He sounds so lost and impatient.

“You’re beautiful.” you answer honestly, making him snort.

“You climbed onto my ass just to tell me that?” he says, as he rises his head and looks questioningly at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t act like you don’t like me saying that.” you tease. “I know it’s honey in your ears.”

He cocks his eyebrow at you and you bore your eyes into his, knowing you are right. Sukuna eyes you up and down, before the corners of his mouth twitch in a suppressed smirk, before he lays back down, burying his face back into his arms.

You lean forward and kiss the back of his neck, his hairs tickling against your nose.

“I know you love me saying that.” you breathe, your voice so smooth. “And I know you love it’s me saying that.”

He purrs at your words, his breath elevating, getting deeper.

Yes. He loves it.

“My Love.” you whisper, before you start to place kisses down his spine, notice the little fine hairs on his stand up, as you do so.

Your hands trace down his sides so tenderly, while you arrive at the small of his back. Lips find the dimples right above his butt crack, kissing them softly. His purrs grow more intense.

Left. Right.

Fingers dig into his hips, before you go lower. Your lips find the soft skin of his left butt cheek. Kissing it, it entices another purr from his chest. Going over to the other cheek.

Another kiss. Another purr.

You lean back, only to take in the sight in front of you. His ass is so pretty, soft and…

Slap!

“Oy!” he grumbles from beneath his arms.

“Oops.” you imitate him, making yourself chuckle.

He smacks his lips in annoyance, before you lean in and take a gentle bite. His hips twitches in response and you hear a muffled hiss coming from his face. No complains.

Alright.

You dive in, kneading, kissing and biting and licking his cheeks, feeling the soft tissue move underneath your fingers, lips and teeth and tongue.

And he groans softly at your actions, his gentle noises making you so happy.

You lower your head, making your tongue slip in between his thighs, feeling his perineum and his balls squeezed between his legs. Gently licking the area, you feel a shudder coming over him.

Another hiss. Another groan.

Oh he likes that.

You move further up, exchange your tongue with your fingers and continue to brush them tenderly against the area, over his balls to his perineum and back, while you let your tongue slowly move to the crack, feeling the edge of his hole.

Only one.

You decide not to tease him for it, not wanting him to stop you in your tracks and possibly throwing you out of your chambers. Instead, you circle it with the tip of your tongue, while still stroking the skin between his legs. An open mouthed groan fills the room, while you continue.

Circle. Circle.

His hips start moving slowly, rubbing his needy dicks across the mattress below you. Your face is buried into his ass, while you keep licking and then you dip in.

“Fuck.” he groans into his pillow, as he keeps rubbing himself onto the mattress, causing him to simultaneously fuck himself onto your tongue. Sukuna’s left leg shifts, lifting off his weight from his swollen cocks and you’re quick to slip your left hand underneath his hips. They’re so hard and pulsating against your hand, it makes you moan against his hole. Sticky fluid sticks against your fingers, as you brush over his tips and you start to feel your walls swelling up as well. He purrs and groans so loud, keeps rubbing himself against your hand, the mattress and your tongue, until he grows impatient.

“Get off!” he orders from under his arms, making you remove your tongue from his hole and raise your head. Hissing at the loss of friction against his hole, he turns around and quickly leans forward, kneeling in front of you, grabs your face and kisses you harshly.

“I need your throat.” he mouths so needy against your lips, while he grabs a fistful of your hair with his upper right hand. “Deep and tight.”

You can’t do anything, but to moan at his rough actions and words, your mind already high from his behaviour and the arousal felt between you two, as he harshly pushes your head down.

Having his cocks already aligned with his bottom left hand, you let yourself being pushed easily onto his bottom one.

And you take it, happily, pushing it as deep as you can inside of your throat.

His meat fills you up and you love it, taking it so hungrily, sucking sloppily on his cock, making him moan, so deep and guttural, his noises letting you know that he loves how you treat him. You moan back, letting your voice vibrate against his sensitive and needy tip deep inside your throat, while he let’s his hand rest on the back of your head.

“Aghh, taking me so well, so deep.” he hisses. “Y/n.” he moans and you feel like you could cum untouched, hearing the way he says your name in such a praising manner.

“Treating and sucking me so nice and good, like a Queen should.” he continues and you feel, as if your juices start could start dripping onto the sheets any moment.

So wet. Just hearing his words.

You whine against his dick, dig your nails into his thighs, while he pumps the upper dick himself.

“Maybe I should truly make me yours, make you my Queen.” he grunts in pleasure, completely lost in your throat, before pushing your head down even more, making his words follow a long open mouthed moan.

Tears pool in your eyes, as you hear his words and as you try your best not to gag. However, hearing him being in a bliss like this and using you to his liking, it makes you feel so wanted by the man you love.

And right now, that’s all you need.

You notice that his left upper arm is moving over your body, before you feel his palm and his tongue against your oozing cunt. The badly needed touch against your plush and sensitive folds makes you moan so loud against the cock inside your throat, makes him moan with you.

Sukuna yanks your head back up, your mouth loses his dick and you look at him with teary eyes, tongue lolling out, as a string of spit still connects you to him.

And he continues to lick your cunt with his hand, making you tremble in his hold, making you dig your nails deeper into his thighs, as he drowns in the sight of you. His almost black eyes stare at you, his mouth open slightly, almost drooling, as he tastes you with his hand and fucks you with his tongue.

And you moan into his eyes, your body being curved almost unnaturally from the position he’s putting you in. He’s hovering over you, so tall, forcing you to look up into his face, holding your head in your neck by your hair, while he pushes simultaneously against your cunt.

God.

You love him so much and what he does to you. This evil curse of a man, this calamity that took your heart and makes you eat. You love him. So much and dearly, you could never be without him again. And you hope he thinks the same about you.

It doesn’t take him long to make you cum on his tongue, the arousal that has been increasing over the course of the last hour, makes it so easy, as his wet muscle keeps fucking and fucking and you keep clenching and clenching, until you snap. Crying your orgasm into his eyes, while painting your own face red from pleasure and love, you shake in his hold, while he just watches you come undone.

You’re not done moaning and twitching from your orgasm, as he roughly pushes your head back down onto his upper cock and starts thrusting a few times into your mouth.

And if feels like you could cum again. You continue suck him so deep and wet, the feeling when he hits the back of your throat drives you crazy.

“Lil‘ slut.” he grunts breathless, as he stops. “Getting wet all over again.”

You hum, but your mind is blank, while he says his words and starts to lick the new juices from your hole. Mindlessly, you take his bottom cock into your left hand and start smearing his precum and your spit all over his tip, while massaging its underside occasionally. Sukuna’s breaths are getting shaky, you feel his thighs and stomach tensing up, the more and more you suck and touch and massage. His moans are becoming louder and louder, until he suddenly pushes you off his dick and pushes himself up on his knees, his dicks now being right above your face, as he pumps them aggressively with both of his left hands.

And you look at him from below, his hand still in your hair. You’re so ready for his cum, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him. Your eyes meet one last time, before his breaths grow so fast, shaking so hard, before he starts singing his release into the room. His head briefly falls back into his neck, as beautiful, raspy, jittering moans and grunts fill your ear, while he fills your mouth and face with his cum. It feels warm and tingly against your skin. He looks back at you, not wanting to miss the sight, while his hands keeps pumping and squeezing, slow and steady, not keeping a single drop inside his dicks.

Sukuna calms down and you swallow, making him huff at the sight of your decorated face.

“Look at you.” he says in a soft voice, watching your for a moment, before he grabs your face in both of his upper hands and leans down.

To your surprise, you feel his tongue against your skin, as he starts licking off his cum. It doesn’t take long, until his right hand moves to your jaw and pushes his fingers at your cheeks, making you open your mouth.

And he spits. Spits his own cum back into your mouth.

“Swallow.” he orders in a deep voice.

You press your thighs together and comply, closing your mouth and swallow his fluids, a mix of spit and his cum. He watches you with half lidded eyes, satisfied with your actions, while you stare back.

I’m his.

“I love you.” you whisper, while looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

Sukuna’s lip twitches softly and he gently squints his eyes, as soon as he hears your words. He opens his mouth, as if he wants to answer. But, he pauses, stares at you so intently and after a moment, all you get is a squeeze on your heart.

“Say it.” you whisper and you can’t help to think, that he looks a bit like he was caught.

“Say what?” he smirks and you know he’s playing again.

“Asshole.” you pout and his smirk grows, before he starts to chuckle and gently pats your cheek twice.

“Asshole.” Sukuna repeats in his most mocking tone, before he leans back and lets himself slump into his pillows. You watch him cross his upper pair of hands behind his head, a satisfied smirk on his face, as he closes his eyes.

After crawling up to him, you force yourself back into his bottom left arm. Making yourself comfortable, you lean your face against his chest and let your fingers gently brush against his used dicks, while they grow soft again. He purrs softly, while your fingers touch him and you let them wander further down to his balls, cupping them.

They feel so soft.

Suddenly they contract and you look up to your Kings face, only to see him even more satisfied, purring louder, smirk grows wider.

“Continue.” he purrs.

You’re confused, but you continue and watch him in fascination. He seems like he’s like pudding in your hand, relaxing and enjoying your touch so much, like a dog that’s getting his tummy rubs.

Speaking of tummy.

A growl rumbles through yours and you are again reminded, that you didn’t eat something decent in a while. Sukuna peeks through his upper left eye at you and you look back to him.

You blush, before removing your hand from his balls and use it to press his cheek against your lips.

“I’ll be right back, my Love.” you whisper, before you get up and dressed and out of his room.

[renatogpadilla]

THOUGHTS ON CR3E92 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

- FIRST EVER CR CROSSOVER EPISODE?!

LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

- Dariax said "This Flute doesn't play itself anymore." Doriax canon offscreen?

- "After all the handjobs, this is what we mean to you?!" Damn... I mean, I'm glad Opal and Cyrus found a way to relieve stress, Gods know they're both stressed, but damn.

- Ending the episode on Opal Twice-Crowned hitting phase 2 of the boss fight was EVIL!

I love it, @quiddie ! I feel like when this gets animated in a decade or so, we'll get this fight and the fight with Otohan Thull overlayed one on top of the other for a Season Finale or something!

- Raven Queen going two for two on Rogues turned Paladin! Which is great, but now I have to replan Morrighan's moveset for that imaginary Critical Role fighting game that only exists in my head (somebody ask me about it please, I NEED to talk about it!) but at least she gets some Smite options out of the Bunny Hop command jump!

- Dariax is a Bard now too! That's honestly so perfect for Matt! And the fact that both Sorcerers and Bards are Charisma Casters makes me feel like the Synergies are gonna be great!

- Oh, Dorian, wonderful blue king... That's a lot of strength that your Dice will never agree to let you use for anything cool. I missed you SO MUCH!

- Speaking of that imaginary CR fighting game, this just solidified Opal as a puppet character. The tag combos with Ted would be WILD! Think Kenshi from MK1!

- Fy'ra Rai... Just... FY'RA RAI! Gods, I've missed Anjali at the table! Her memory with Opal, her tug-of-war with her thoughts about her sister... THE LAVA WHIP! Nothing sexier than Monks! Except a pissed off Wizard or Druid.

- On the other side of the table, I LOVE the moment the girls all collectively remembered they had to break the news to Frida... Oh, that's gonna hurt BAD!

- Anyone else noticed that Ashton is BURNT OUT and laying on the ground after his Titan form wears off, but Fearne just says she's really tired and just KEEPS GOING? Ashton is DONE for now, but Fearne needs to keep moving forward... Fuck, I love these two.

- Orym... Just... Orym. If you take a level in Barbarian after this, I wouldn't blame you.

- Side-Note: This means Dorian DID get Orym's last message before they went to the moon! He just didn't/couldn't answer! Which means, through the static and everything, Dorian COULD hear Orym! And now he's probably gonna get this message once the battle is over... Jesus, if they get to Zephra and Keyleth went to the Lodge next to the lake that's gonna be a problem...

- Side-Note Side-Note: Anyone else hoping to GOD that Allura called the Nein to help? Cause Beau and Caleb were involved, but now it feels like an "All Hands on Deck" situation, and we could use Kingsley's small army of pirates right about now...

- So much happened this episode between the grieving and the flashbacks and the rolling for handjobs that I didn't have time to process the splinter cell of Xhorhasians that split their soul in twain until I woke up... Opal may have forgotten, but maybe Ted hasn't? Though if they're the same person, maybe they both forgot...

- Aabria, the corrupting of the Memories was FOUL, I LOVE IT!!!

- Somebody needs to tell Essek about the soul-splitters. In fact, let's get to that while we deal with Ashton too!

- IF OPAL DIES, AMY CAN COME OVER AS DENI$E! Like, I don't WANT her to die, but Westruun isn't that far... 👀

- I just realized this is the first ever FULL episode of CR without Sam at the table... Fuck, man, when it hurts it hurts. Glad Marisha brought back the fan.

"Forgot the Consonants?" "No Letters." OUCH, MISS RAY, WHAT THE FUCK?!

- Raven Queen Paladins hasting themselves first thing in the fight. Vax is back, and he's a Bunny Girl now!

- I like that the Crownkeepers are a two-way Overwatch reunion (McCree Cassidy and Symmetra) and a three-way Persona 5 reunion (Yusuke, Ann Futaba and Akechi).

- Everything was so fucked this episode that everything with Liliana got knocked to the background for me, THAT'S how good it was!

- The SECOND Evoroa said Ludinos was on Exandria I knew EXACTLY where he would be! Now we HAVE to get the Nein involved, right? Unless the bastard makes the city float again...

I cannot WAIT for the next episode! And if Sam brings a new character when all the groups are together, it would be SPECTACULAR! I'm guessing he's going to play one of the moon races, because that just sounds cool... Either that or Tary!

[stillness-in-green]

I always disliked Shigaraki's initial answer to Spinner's rant in ch.220 because it gave me the distinct impression that he didn't actually have anything to say in response to his warranted concern about where they were going from here (besides restating that Kurogiri's gone, so deal with it). So I was pleasantly surprised to read your MVA in Memoriam post clarify that the Jap. ver. of his response was different. Though it's a little unclear how so besides referencing a line he'd use later.

Hey there, @bringbestintentionwhen! I got both this and your direct message asking for a fuller explanation about the rest of how Shigaraki starts his response to Spinner, which I'm happy to detail and then theorize about. Let me provide both a scan of the scene in question and just a bit of preambulatory repetition of stuff from my other post to establish context for other readers and get the part you already know out of the way.

This is the entirety of what Shigaraki gets out before Machia arrives; romanized, the Japanese would read, Dakara…  Ji… Ji is the first syllable of jigoku, “Hell”, and what I assume Spinner is remembering when he flashes back to this moment after Shigaraki’s grandiose promise to Ujiko, which leads with the same syllable.  (There, Shigaraki says, Jigoku kara tengoku made, lit. “From Hell all the way to Heaven.”)

As to the Dakara, my trusty reference Jisho gives several possible translations depending on whether it’s leading the sentence or being used as a conjunction; Caleb’s translation, above, is perfectly acceptable and naturalistic for the situation.  A literalistic translation, something that could kind of get across the gist (even if it’s hella clunky) no matter where you put it in a sentence, might be, “That’s why,” but for a sentence-opener like Shigaraki’s using above, “Like I already said,” or, “Like I told you before,” are the sentiment dakara is putting across—it’s an emphasis word for restatement, more or less.

Of course, as you may be thinking, Shigaraki hasn’t said anything like that before.  His “Hell to Heaven” line to Ujiko is for sure the first time he’s said anything like that!  So what is he getting at there?

I checked with my usual go-to for minutiae about Shigaraki’s early scenes in the manga (the ever-reliable @codenamesazanka) and neither of us could remember anything in particular that Shigaraki said prior to this moment that his Dakara here could really be a callback to.  He certainly hadn’t articulated that level of scorched earth approach before in front of Spinner!  He did tell Stain, way back when, that he wanted to destroy All Might and the society that worshiped him, but the boldest statement of purpose he’d given the League up through Chapter 220 came circa Overhaul: The next kings will be us.

So is it something in the scene itself, then?  I only see two things that he could really be intending to reiterate with that, “Like I said”: his earlier answer that they’re going to keep going like they’re going until they “finish”—that being his answer when Spinner first started questioning him, before Dabi got back—or a repetition that they’re looking for the Doctor.  Neither is real substantial, of course—either one would be better than just stressing that Kurogiri’s gone, which I don’t think was his intention, but neither would they present a concrete answer to Spinner’s concern.  So based just on the, “Like I said,” a dislike of the non-answer would be a pretty fair read!

With that said, though, there is one last thing in Shigaraki’s talk bubbles that we could look at other than just the words, and that’s the modulation implied by the punctuation.  Notice in the picture above that the Japanese gives Shigaraki ellipses in both talk bubbles, while the English translation copies the first ellipsis but changes the second into an em-dash.  That’s a pretty important distinction!  In English usage, an ellipsis would mean Shigaraki trailed off before the earth-shaking rumbling started, whereas the em-dash indicates the rumbling interrupted whatever he was going to say and he broke off.  C.Cook has not been the most slavishly accurate retainer of crucial punctuation in the world, but I also wasn’t sure if the ellipses/em-dash distinction was as clear-cut in Japanese.  To get some insight on that, I turned to my Translator Sis.

What she said was that the em-dash is not something you see much of in most manga—typically, the ellipses serves the purposes of both, leaving some potential ambiguity which readers (and translators!) have to just make their best guesses about based on the surrounding context/characterization.  What we have with that in mind is a talk bubble that nothing interrupted but that still contained a noticeable pause (otherwise there’d be no punctuation at all), followed by a talk bubble that gets overrun by the SFX—I’d say Cook’s punctuation gets that across!

I want to point chiefly, then, to that first pause.  Shigaraki was taking Spinner’s complaints seriously in that scene, I think.  He didn’t raise his hand or his voice to threaten, and his gaze during Spinner’s rant were very level and controlled.  Whatever he started to say, he broke off saying it and then started over before the walking calamity showed up.  The first ellipsis indicates this hesitation; combined with the fact that he’d never brought up Hell before such that he could smoothly reiterate it with that Dakara, I think that Shigaraki was actually about to spring the Hell line (or one similar to it, anyway) on Spinner.

As to how he was going to frame it to answer Spinner’s challenge, that, I can’t say.  I doubt it would have been the same, “I’ll show it to you,” he gave Ujiko, but maybe it would have been, “I’ll expose it,” or, “We’ll tear it all down,” something to echo Spinner’s talk of emptiness with a promise of an empty world—which, of course, he would take the first step to delivering in the vast crater that waits on the other end of the arc.

So, a lot of it’s open to interpretation!  Readers, Japanese or English, wouldn’t have had any way to know what Shigaraki was about to say in 220 when it came out; indeed, I imagine Cook had to just take a wild guess at a Japanese word that started with ji[1] and lucked out that he picked something he could smoothly fold into Shigaraki’s later line.  (The official English is “Heaven and hell both.”  That’s the case both online and in print, so if Cook didn’t get lucky, then the online version’s been retroactively changed to fit.  Uncommon, I gather, but it's been known to happen.)

Spinner’s the narrator in MVA, so it’s totally fair, and possibly even intentional, for you (the specific you, bringbest, as well as the general readership you) to be in his shoes of being frustrated by Shigaraki’s vagary.  To put it mildly, Shigaraki is not the best communicator in the world!  But just because he often fails to articulate his intentions well to his followers[2] doesn’t mean he doesn’t have things straight in his head.

Thanks for the ask!

1: I did not go all the way to the point of checking to see what else Shigaraki said in 220 that started with ji that Cook might have been leaning on or that Japanese readers could have made assumptions about.  Mea culpa.  Jiji, “old man,” does, and it’s the only word I know of that would fit if you assume Cook intended “He” as a stand-alone, complete word rather than a first syllable of an incomplete one.                 I don’t know how Shigaraki refers to Ujiko in the scene—if he ever uses jiji or oji when describing him—but an attentive Japanese reader would recall that they’ve seen the likely personage Shigaraki’s referring to as AFO’s doctor way back in Chapter 59.  So, if there was any assumption in the Japanese readership that Shigaraki was referring to a particular “he” there with his cut-off Ji, it would likely have been the Doctor rather than Kurogiri, who I’m pretty sure Shigaraki does not ever refer to as an ojisan at any level of formality.

2: See also his exchanges with Stain about conviction, with Kurogiri about his plans at the training camp, and with Toga when she and Jin found out they were being loaned to the yakuza.

[002yb]

(Just drooping it there)

My favorite flavors of monstruous!Dick are

1- When Dick is an eldritch deity

2- When he is half Veela

3- When he is seen as monstruous because of his abilities and skills, the fact that him being a nice and loyal person is the only thing holding him from bring doom into this world

Feel free to drop some more details on your favorite flavors here because my, oh my I'm (｡♥‿♥｡) !! Especially with eldritch deity!Dick like, hello? My interests are so piqued!

Since flavor 3 is my go-to, more thoughts to add on to yours (which are so good ahhhhh they make me so happy thank you for sharing!):

With a particular focus on Dick having an emotional capacity to him that lends itself to Dick being particularly adept at manipulation because yes, please.

It's an overlooked skill set of his. Those who recognize it refer to it as Dick being 'astute,' which - fine. Call it what you will. The be all end all is that Dick can and will control a situation to get a desired result.

And he likes it. He loves the challenge of it. And Dick knows the fact he enjoys it makes it that much more dangerous.

Pushing the limits of his social awareness, his emotional intelligence; how quick he processes and adapts.  How effectively he manages a situation, how well he can manipulate it. 

Something something Dick playing at intentional, superficial casualness while being actively very serious and capable and it takes people by surprise when they realize he's not strictly a friendly, airheaded ditz and that he can fuck them up.

Omgggggg give me this with the 'smarter' bats omg the pet peeve is so strong with this

The above on a skill/experience/ability level with the daily vigilante/hero fighting, but especially so with things that require planning/strategizing/intelligence, etc.

Slight change in direction here, because more monstrous than any of his skills might just be Dick's self-restraint? Something about his resolve being disturbingly intense. It can overshadow everything for him: instinct, stress, whatever needs he might have.

Just. Being fully capable of ruining the world and choosing to use everything he is for the better.

No one else realizing just how merciful Dick is or how dangerous he can be until something happens that makes him snap? Huff.

Also I've got nothing to add to it just admiring 'Dick is the only thing holding himself back from bringing doom to the world' i just like this a lot it's very nicely phrased, anon. ///u///

Extra thoughts:

This - with Dick having this unsettling ability to shut himself down to pain and act in spite of it in frightening ways. Just resolve dialed up to an inhuman level despite Dick being very much just a man.

[kaaragen]

Rise of the Red Blade thoughts

One of the things I’ve long been asking for is for canon to do something to address the Inquisitors. We partially got that with Kenobi, but Reva is more of a special case. But with Inquisitor: Rise of the Red Blade we do finally have something that does, so it behooves me to add my thoughts. We do get a lot of interesting bits from this book - including, at last!, some canon Seventh Sister backstory!

(Minor spoilers ahead - though if you’ve read the Darth Vader comics you know how this story ends)

First of all, on a story level, it’s entertaining and I think does a good character dive on why Jedi fell and became Inquisitors. Ishkat Akaris is the POV character and she provides an interesting angle on struggles with the Jedi Order. She’s neurodivergent, and while not specified I’m picking up ADHD. She struggles and never quite gets the support she needs. But she is an unreliable narrator, and there is a particular Roshomon incident from when she was young that we return to again and again, getting some different perspectives. Though the narrative (in true Roshomon fashion) never says which was the ‘true’ version so you’re just left with the various ‘certain points of view’. But as a look at someone’s personal journey to the Dark Side, where at of the steps seem plausible and fair from their perspective, it works really well.

But what the book is great for is showing, better than other canon material I’ve come across, what the war does to the Jedi. Communications are poor. Information is sketchy. And young, inexperienced and over promoted Jedi are being sent out as commanders into highly stressful situations. And it really shows how the sheer stress of the war, and how this starts corrupting the more inexperienced Jedi, as the pressure to achieve results in impossible circumstances starts leading them toward ‘quicker and easier’ answers, with even the brighter and more devoted Jedi starting to fray by the wars end.

It maybe doesn’t deep dive as much as I would like; and the timeline is a bit wonky in places (according to this the Jedi had the clone army before they went into the arena on Geonosis which ??), but as far as canon goes I think it’s one of the best explorations on offer.

There’s some other tidbits as well:

Confirmation that if you don’t connect with the Force regularly you will lose sensitivity to it and have to ‘relearn’ as per Kenobi.

We get a bit more in how the Inquisitorious works. Basically a perverse form of the Jedi Order. There are candidate Inquisitors, and when you ‘prove’ yourself worthy you get a Name (eg X Sister). Which was hinted at in Kenobi (the use of ‘Reva’ over Third Sister to emphasise her outsider status)

That said, numbering system still doesn’t make sense to me. I think the implication is supposed to be the number is the order in which a candidate ‘proved’ themselves, but I find it hard to believe that Trilla was the first one to do so. Particularly not as it says Fifth Brother joined willingly and Tenth Brother was already half-way there at the start of the war.

The Agricorps are back baby!

And some canon Seventh Sister backstory! To which:

She’s a little older than Ishkat, whose about 19/20 when the Clone War kicks off. So my rough guess would be that she’s about 25ish when Order 66 happens. So Seventh is definitely a Jedi Knight - which does tie with her line of dialogue to Ezra mocking Kanan for not achieving the rank.

She was Aayla Secura’s Padawan (asterisk on this one - the exact line is ‘trained by’ which is a little vaguer, but Padawan reads to me as the intent.) This would constitute a lore revision that Mirialans are only Padawan’s to Mirialans.

Something absolutely horrific happened to her to make her an Inquisitor. Which you might think ‘of course it did’; but Ishkat meets Second Sister and hangs out with Ninth Sister and specifically mentions sensing something appalling happening to Seventh. So yeah, we’re talking orders of magnitude bad in comparison.

(For those wondering who read A New Dawn Breaks: none of this will affect Sorfelia; I already had something terrible planned 😈)

So overall, I’d say it’s worth a read. And if you’ve read the comics there’s some fun Easter eggs here and there as well!

[crippleprophet]

hi i was wondering if you or any of your followers had tips for dealing with chronic muscle pain (specifically hip and knee).

nothing i’ve tried has seemed to help (pt, otc pain meds, ice, heat, rest, acupuncture, cbd lotion, epson salt baths, stretching). and i’ve peen told that the only pain meds that would help would be narcotics (which i can’t take due to family).

also everybody has seemed to circle back to “it’s because of your mental health that everything is shit”. and doctors refuse to do any tests past moving my legs around and poking at them.

so i will try almost anything. thank you

i’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, i have chronic muscle pain & i know it can easily be so debilitating. regardless of whether there’s a relationship with stress or whatever, your physical symptoms should still be fucking treated! the abject cruelty of not managing your pain aside, it’s almost like it’s harder to handle mental experiences when you’re in pain all the time… you don’t deserve this bullshit & i’m really sorry 🖤

i am suspicious of your being told that only narcotics would help tbh — i don’t doubt that many folks need narcotics to effectively treat their pain, & opioids have definitely been the most effective treatment for me when i have access to them (although more for nerve stuff than muscle) but there are definitely medications you haven’t been offered yet that might be helpful.

idk if you suspect that your muscle pain may be related to chronic illness but my muscle pain (including what was dismissed as untreatable fibromyalgia symptoms) improved dramatically when i got on an immunosuppressant (hydroxychloroquine in my case). if you haven’t gotten a basic rheumatology blood panel done by your GP it could be worth a shot as my elevated inflammatory markers led to that prescription even though i’m definitely underdiagnosed.

i’m also like, really pissed nobody’s given you a muscle relaxer jesus christ. i’m on 4mg tizanidine from my PCP & it’s been immensely helpful for my muscle pain, i choose to take it probably once a week because it’s more effective at knocking me out all night that way lol but i also use it as a rescue medication when i’m having severe cramps. really helpful to just get a fucking break & some decent sleep every so often. in that thread i’m planning to ask about starting prazosin at my next appointment, it’s prescribed for nightmares (which i def have lol) but can prompt a certain level of muscle relaxation which is part of how it helps with sleep

idk if this is an option for you due to family etc but delta8 (weed equivalent that’s technically legal in the US) has been vital for managing my own pain. expensive as shit but so it goes.

idk if you already use a mobility aid or if that’s an option for you but it could be worth looking into! redirecting some of the force applied to your muscles might make things like walking easier or could help with balance if you experience sudden weakness / cramps.

super depends on your situation but it could be worth paying attention to your feet as well, getting plantar fasciitis house shoes vastly improved my knee-hip-back pain, knees in particular. mine was more joint related than muscular but from studying biomechanics it’s all interrelated & from my perspective anything that helps may make it a bit easier to keep going until you find a better long-term solution. so even if it doesn’t seem related to your pain if there’s anything that might make your life easier right now i encourage you to consider it!

other folks feel free to respond with things that have been effective for you! i really hope you find some solutions that make things more bearable for you 💓💓

[madamlaydebug]

Here are some common examples when the practice of feng shui is most beneficial:

When You’re Changing Your Living Space

•You are moving into a new place, such as a home, a rental, an office or retail space.

•You are building a new house or condominium.

•You are remodeling your existing home or office space.

•You are purchasing a new place.

•You are preparing to sell your home.

•You are merging homes because you’re moving in together with a partner or getting married.

When Your Relationship (With Yourself or Another) Changes

•There has been a death with a family member.

•You recently got divorced or had a break-up.

•You need some special self-healing or self-care.

•You are stressed and want to restore balance.

•You want to attract new love or strengthen a current relationship.

•You want to invite new friends, mentors, clients, partners, and teachers into your life.

•You are surrounded by clutter that is weighing you down.

•Your space is chaotic and you need to feel grounded again.

•You are looking for fresh direction on achieving and realizing your goals and dreams.

When You Need a Change in Your Career and/or Finances

•You feel “stuck” in your career.

•You want to increase your cash flow or attract more business opportunities.

•You want a promotion or to take your career or business endeavors to the next level.

•You are in a creative rut.

•You are experiencing a sudden bout of money “going out the door.”

When Your Health and Family Situation is in Flux

•You want to have a baby.

•You are struggling with new or ongoing health issues.

•You are suffering from depression.

•You often feel tired or experience lack of energy.

•You are unmotivated to care for others or for yourself.

Although it may start out as a one-time event for a particular circumstance, such as those listed above, I often tell my clients it will become a part of your life, not just in bad times, but also in good times.

I encourage you to let feng shui help make you healthier and happier – starting now.

[bestworstcase]

you refer to summer as proto-cinder - do you have thoughts then for how actual cinder coming into the picture affected that dynamic? like was summer Salem’s protege first, do you think? did cinder replace her + she got sent away or did she get promoted when cinder arrived? mostly just asking for your speculation since I don’t think we have many canon answers but I love reading your rwby thoughts

loosely my thinking is that: 

1 - salem at the time was not participating in ozpin’s forever war in any meaningful sense. that his hush-hush last minute urgent missions routinely turned out to be inconsequential false alarms because he was jumping at every shadow while salem mostly ignored him. (and: i think she knew he’d hidden the relics in the schools, but didn’t yet know the particulars.)

2 - raven did not go back to banditry when she broke things off with tai, or if she did it was as a cover for her work as a spy; hence her continued working relationship with summer years later.

3 - gretchen rainart was the spring maiden. ozpin picked her out of beacon’s ranks the same way he did pyrrha, then pulled her out of the normal curriculum and sent her to mistral to be trained, in secret, by raven. the public story was that she “tragically lost her life in a training mission,” and hazel knew something didn’t add up.

4 - discomfort with that situation, combined with raven and summer both thinking ahead 10-12 years to when their daughters would be gretchen’s age, is what got the wheels turning on the secret rogue mission to take salem down.

5 - the plan was for summer to go in alone, banking on silver eyes, with raven and gretchen at a safe distance but ready to intervene if summer got into trouble. (think: gretchen blasting magic through a portal positioned to hit salem, raven ducking through and yanking summer out before salem could recover. with kindred link’s sensory aspect and a maiden’s firepower, that’s about the best escape plan summer could have had.)

6 - ozpin does his level best to keep his people as far away from salem as possible. salem knows this. one of ozpin’s guardians tracking her down with heroic declarations at the ready would interest her, and she’d instantly zero in on summer having gone rogue. that’s an opportunity: it indicates a fracture in her faith in ozpin. so salem didn’t try to smush summer like a bug; she started talking.

7 - unlike her daughters, who really have been fighting a war, summer’s experience up to that point had been a lot of secrecy, paranoia, and false alarms. if she said “i’ll stop you” and salem answered “i’m not doing anything to stop”—it would not have taken a lot of convincing to believe that, because it tracks.

8 - once the first hurdle of believing that salem isn’t waging existential war against humanity is cleared, it’s really, really easy to flip the narrative against ozpin. all salem has to do is tell summer about the mandate while stressing that the gods cannot be appeased, that they destroyed the world once before and will do it again if ozpin calls them back. which is true!

9 - salem, for whatever reason, wants the relics. if summer believes her about the mandate, getting her on board with stealing the relics is as easy as “ozpin is planning to bring them together soon; we have to get them away from him” or “i can destroy them” or “we can use them to stop him forever.” if summer doesn’t believe it… well, ozpin must trust her a great deal, to have told her of salem’s existence. surely she knows where and how he’s hidden the relics? go find the lamp. use it to find the truth for yourself; then make your choice.

10 - isn’t it serendipitous, then, that summer has the living breathing key to the vault of knowledge on her side?

check and mate. 

whether summer buys salem’s story or not, the stakes are so high that she can’t afford not to seek confirmation—and with raven and gretchen already involved, it would be so easy to be in and out of that vault with no one the wiser, and they can always seal it away again if it turns out salem lied. one way or another, summer has to open that vault.

what happens next?

i think there are two plausible ways this might have shaken out, depending on how much trust raven had in ozpin and how willing summer was to take salem at her word. 

if raven trusted ozpin and summer believed salem, then things probably got heated fast when summer returned unscathed from meeting salem and started talking about ozpin being the real danger and needing gretchen to open the vault; they might have come to blows then, and with gretchen caught in between.

if summer believed and raven was skeptical, they probably did get the vault open—but they wouldn’t have been able to use the lamp. none of them knew jinn’s name. so what then? do they seal the lamp, or trust salem’s word and bring it to her? how does gretchen feel about those options? how intense is summer about getting at least one relic away from oz?

either way… the only thing we really know about the last spring maiden is that she struggled with the magic; it was too much for her, she was scared, the training never stuck, she wasn’t cut out for it. and she was a student—probably not much older than pyrrha. we’ve seen how poorly a young, not-fully-trained maiden fared against a couple of kids and cinder. summer and raven were among the best of the best. so if things got heated enough to come to blows…

i doubt very much that summer planned or intended to kill gretchen; she’s the proto-cinder in the sense that i think salem saw an opportunity to snag a relic and maybe a valuable double agent and went for it. why look a gift horse in the mouth?—but it was all sort of ad hoc. 

but then you have a girl with power she can’t master because she’s been isolated and she just wants to go home, and the old unspoken tension between the only two adults who care enough to try to make that happen very suddenly erupting when one of them flips her loyalties out of the blue. that is a volatile situation. all the more so if it’s kept simmering until the relic is out of the vault and they’re realizing that they don’t know how to use it and they’re all going to have to choose without knowingwho told the truth.

what happens to summer rose if things get out of control and she lands the fatal blow? does she run? does she move to help before raven lashes out and forces her to run? how far does she get before it hits her that she cannot go back home?—that the choices she made, the blood she spilled tonight have tied her irrevocably to salem whether she likes it or not?

and then there’s raven, left behind to give gretchen the bitter mercy of a quick and painless death. she becomes spring—maybe seals the lamp away again, if it got that far—and then has to consider her options. tell the truth and face whatever consequences there might be for letting this happen, or… ash the body, and feign surprise come morning? leave on the pretense of searching for her missing protege, then drop out of contact and stay as far the fuck away from this mess as possible? let the guilt and the secrets fester unchecked for twelve years, always looking over her shoulder because summer has to know, she must, who gretchen gave the magic to. does salem know? would summer tell her? can raven afford to trust that she won’t?

salem specifically sought out hazel. why? how did she even know about him, if not because summer told her? (<- a decade and change later when salem is actively prosecuting a war, she doesn’t have the slightest idea who neopolitan is—after neo was instrumental in the fall of beacon! salem is not exactly obsessively monitoring what goes on in vale!) and hazel says that gretchen’s death taught him never to trust ozpin.

if “training mission gone wrong” was a cover story for pushing gretchen into hiding after she became the spring maiden, and summer knew that, and summer tried to stop it only for that attempt to go so catastrophically wrong that gretchen died because of her, and the whole time hazel was still desperately trying to get answers… and one of the very few things we know about who summer is as a person is that she Does Not Like To Lie… wouldn’t she feel that hazel deserved to know what really happened? 

and if this is how salem learned that the relics are in vaults only the maidens can open—to say nothing of how the maidens themselves are treated!—then. well, ‘divide’ and ‘sacrifice’ are both seethinglydisdainful about the futility of ozpin’s sacrifices and his cause. it isn’t a stretch to think this might have been what incited salem to actually go to war for the relics. and in that case it seems only natural for her to recruit hazel, too, because salem literally is motivated by gretchen’s death. and she can sidestep the part where summer is the one who killed gretchen by hammering ozpin’s conspiratorial lies.

and then—because summer is wholly unsuitable as a skeleton-key maiden vessel by dint of having moral reservations about murdering people and no particular desire for power—salem needs to find herself a protege. and maybe pick up another agent or two while she’s at it.

cinder is only a few years older than yang. she was probably around ten or eleven when summer met salem and the dominoes began to fall; she didn’t escape the madame until her mid-teens, and we don’t know how much time passed in between then and salem finding her. so quite a lot—half or more—of the interim between summer joining her and the beginning of V1, salem probably spent just looking for a viable candidate. and then training her while laying out the plan to off ozpin, hit the academies, and seize the relics before ozma even knew what hit him. so summer, i think, would have had a fairly lengthy period of time to reconcile herself to beginning the war she thought she was going to end, as a necessary step towards ending the wider conflict and the harm done by ozpin’s one-sided imaginary war. her life is a mess. she probably hates… everything about what her side is doing but if she really was involved directly in gretchen’s death then she’s kind of stuck with salem until/unless the truth comes out, and even aside from that there is the problem of the divine ultimatum to worry about; after more than a decade i would imagine that summer has firmly been convinced that salem isn’t gunning for annihilation, because if it came down to a choice between confessing to murder or helping bring about the end of the world, i do think summer would pick the former.

[blautitlewave]

It is so fucked up that I was functionally (and dysfunctionally) depressed from the ages of 16 to 28. In that time I had lived with family, and in that time I thought I would never be a full-fledged adult because the job I was working was the most physically and emotionally draining thing ever (housekeeping) that barely paid well for all the stress and frustration it gave me.

Now that I have a job that pays decently with BENEFITS and a place to live that doesn’t have me paying out the nose each month (my grandparents own a house that I am able to rent from), I have felt a level of contentment that I haven’t experienced since my prepubescence.

And while everyone’s situation is different and nuanced and money and home security doesn’t fix everything, holy shit would it be a fucking START for millions. I legitimately thought that my particular flavor of depression wouldn’t be alleviated with another blue collar job, I thought that I would still be pining for a vocation that actually fit what I went to grad school for, but as it stands, the thorn doesn’t stab into me as hard as it once did because at least my new job allows me to be free with my time so long as I get my work done within my allotted 8 hours each day. I draw, I write, I do puzzles, I play games on my phone, and I feel so much more satisfied and secure.

Like fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Everyone should have what I have. The flexibility, the money, the breathing room to do some shit while you’ve got down time. Everyone deserves what I have going on for me right now and it pisses me off that the only reason I have what I have is because a lot of it was up to the luck of being born in a particular family. Not a particularly rich family. Comparatively we are what the middle class used to be.

And my job? I’m just a janitor at a clinic working late 2nd shift. So why is it that what I have right now is made unaffordable for people who work twice as many hours as me? We know the answer and it pisses me off. I’m no more valuable than anyone else (we’re all more valuable than a traffic cop or a CEO though, tbh). It’s literally not fair that my situation is so fucking rare nowadays. It should be the norm.

[missoblaine]

Tag Game!

Yay tag game! I was tagged by @evaofkonoha and I am tagging @shameless-fujoshi to do this (if you want to haha).

Are you named after anyone?

Nope! I like my name though 😊

What sports have you played?

If dancing counts as a sport then I danced for about fifteen years quite intensely! Otherwise, no. I dislike sports so much actually 😣 I used to pretend to be sick to get out of PE at school. I don't like the physicality and conflict and outside-ness of many sports. I am a squishy little indoors person!

Do you use sarcasm?

Yes! It is why writing in Sasuke's voice is easier for me than writing in Naruto's.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Hmm, I don't meet new people often actually. I think in general, I am not very good at reading people and it takes me a while to properly make friends. I think both online and IRL, I notice someone's way of speaking/writing/communicating. Their tone and voice and word choice etc.

What's your eye colour?

Very dark brown.

Scary movies or happy endings?

I can't do scary movies eeek. Thrillers, I can do, and I enjoy watching people play scary games sometimes, but horror is too much for me. In general movies are kind of overwhelming for me, I don't watch many of them!

So by default, I guess I like happy endings? I do think for me to enjoy them they have to be purposeful and earned (not necessarily by the characters but by the story).

Any talent?

Writing! While it has ebbed and flowed in its presence over the course of my life, it has always been with me in some form and I am proud of how I have grown with it, especially in the last two years. I am a pretty fast reader as well so I guess that's another one?

What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, board games, and occasionally crafting things (sewing, crochet, painting miniatures).

Do you have any pets?

My partner has a dog!

How tall are you?

155cm. I am pretty short lol.

Dream job?

I am honestly quite happy with my current job (board game adjacent, relatively not stressful, lets me play with spreadsheets lol). I think my dream job is just not working tbh or doing something just mentally stimulating enough but not stressful and getting paid well for it! 😅 Isn't that the dream?

I will say, I wouldn't want to do any of the creative hobbies I love dearly, especially writing, as a job as I strongly believe it would ruin my love for them.

My answer to this particular question got very long so the rest is under the cut if you are interested in my thoughts. Otherwise, if this is your off ramp - thank you for reading and thank you to @evaofkonoha again for tagging me 🥰

rambling (a.k.a. why i don't want to write as a job)

Even if I worked for myself and got to create the things I wanted, I don't believe I would enjoy it, perhaps simply because it would be a job and it would become something I had to do instead of chose to do. I also believe that whatever I created wouldn't feel truly mine. I think part of the joy of a hobby is getting to do it whenever, however, whyever you want - I value that freedom highly.

For example, if I were to write a novel, even if I wrote it for myself, I would need to, eventually, pitch it to agents/publishers etc and it would always be in the back of my mind that 'this needs to be something that an agent/publisher believes would sell'. Even if I wrote it exactly as I wanted, perhaps someone further down the publishing line would ask for changes to improve its commercial value because, hey, they have to make money too, no? (And perhaps this view is jaded from working in a retail/sales environment for a couple years but if anything, I am even more sure of it now.)

From my time in uni studying creative writing (in which we got some experience pitching short pieces/essays to journals/student publications), I saw the level of ambition needed to succeed in a career like this and I just…don't want that kind of stress to be tied to my finances and living situation. I don't want my ability to be creative (which can wax and wane with the moon, it feels) to be what my paycheck hinges on. Perhaps this is because my creativity is so personal and sacred to me - it is the channel via which my soul interacts with the world - but perhaps it is to everyone? Maybe I am simply very sensitive about it, as I am with many things.

Studying creative writing made me fall out of love with the craft for a couple years, constantly overthinking my words and weighing them against form, content, industry, moral and message. I distinctly remember writing an memoir/essay I was quite proud of part way through my third year (within which I was quite vulnerable about myself) and being disappointed with my final grade on it, as it was so detached from my own personal pride in it. (To be fair though, looking back, it was not as technically sound as I had believed it at the time.)

To be clear, it is not that I wish to create completely void of external input and influence, and I do understand the importance of assessment and external feedback when it comes to developing technical skill! But for the point where I am in my life now, where I have done some formal learning and am starting to realise the infinity and freedom of informal learning, I just think there is a sweet spot where the amount and type of external input/influence is nuturing and kind and motivating and authentic. Too little influence and it can feel like screaming into the void - no resonance. Too much and . . . well, you get the above experience, where it feels like the thing you created as well as the process of creation becomes no longer wholly yours.

For me and what I have learned thus far in my life, my writing is best as this weird wildspace. That's what works for me! And I share my writing online in the purest sense of that word - share - because I want to show this small community something that means something to me, with no kind of transaction behind it. It's just out there, and you're also out there, and if you stumble upon it (or go looking for it) I hope this thing that means something to me means something to you too. I hope it creates resonance with you in this incomprehensible vastness of life.

Um, yeah. That's cool to have that written out and articulated! Thanks for reading 😊

~13/03/2024

[brazenskald]

Flight Risk

Ever been on the edge of a highrise, staring down a thousand-metre vertical that could leave you flatter than a burnt crepe on the sidewalk? If your stomach just jumps at the thought, good for you. You have a healthy sense of vertigo. Me? Never felt anything other than a skin-tingling urge to see if I could make it up that high and live to kiss the ground far below. Yeah, you could say my priorities were a little screwed-up. But then again, I was also staring down the barrel of a gun. Not a metaphorical one either. Pretty sure this was a Glock, or maybe a Smith & Wesson. I wasn’t paying too much attention, since the hand holding the gun was attached to my very beautiful, very angry ex.

Henry’s never been one to mince words, even when we were on better terms. Kissing terms, I liked to say. Straight to the point, Henry was. It didn’t surprise me that even with the wind buffeting our clothes, he held my gaze in the way that a python might, as it contemplated the best way to squeeze life from its prey.

“Ray,” He shouted, to be heard over the wind. “Hand over the loci!” You’d be forgiven for asking yourself what the fuck a locus, plural loci, is or are. I myself had the faintest clue, but we don’t need to get into that now. The relevant point was in my eloquent reply.

“Henry, if I had the loci, I’d have to let go of this ledge to hand it to you, and we both know that could end in the very swift and very sudden demise neither of us wants!” Henry was the laconic one. My gifts lay elsewhere.

“Give them here or I’ll push you off this tower myself!” Henry, bless his heart, couldn’t make a threat heavier than the gun he still held leveled on me, and nothing made that clearer than his reliance on gravity rather than good old fashioned lead. I reached down into my breast pocket to feel the cold edges of the loci, still secreted away right where I’d stashed them.

“Counter-offer, why not let me go and we can discuss all of this business in the relative comfort of a steamy bubble bath? You’ve still got the keys to my place, right?” I’d never asked for them back. He’d never offered to return them. I took it for what it was. A tacit admission that he wasn’t willing to break things off. He just needed a break. Promotion from beat cop to lead investigator hadn’t improved his patience, and I was used to his pattern of slinking back after a hard case. We had our rhythms, and we made it work. These bizarro stones weren’t going to change that.

“Ray…” Henry growled, a fire lit behind his eyes that signaled we were inching close to a breaking point. It was the same tone he fell into after I walked in with a few too many bags from a boutique, or if he spotted me liberating articles from some yuppie’s waistcoat while they ogled my tits.

“Henry, I’ll give them back, once I’ve had a chance to take a good look at them. You know I always do.” This was a lie. Henry usually snuck out with any number of pilfered goods when he thought I was sleeping, which I never was. He kicked like a mule while asleep, and I was an early riser. “Besides Hen, when have I ever lied to-”

In the movies, badasses fire off gunshots that knock bad guys clean off their feet. No such thing in real life. Small calibre rounds in particular hit you like angry prods of a finger, only they sting a hell of a lot more, and you bleed all over yourself. The shock of being hit, along with my bewilderment that Henry had actually shot me, the prick, caused me to forget the precarious situation I was in. That all-important sense of vertigo that is supposed to keep you alive? It rushed back with a vengeance right in time for me to tumble out of reach of any possible handholds. I plunged into the void, watching Henry’s face morph into horror at what he’d done. Should I have felt grim acceptance? Maybe. Somebody else might’ve. I flipped him off, and twisted to face the rapidly approaching street below.

Everything moves slower when you’re in moments of tremendous stress or peril, another truism which smartass psychologists swear is post-hoc neuro-processing, some such gobbledygook that amounts to the brain casting off the usual filters to take in all possible details. The gist? Your brain doesn’t speed up, it actually slows down, or at least the amount of information you absorb at the same constant rate increases, leading to that change in perception. What that tells me, a college drop-out with a passing interest in neurocognitive processes where they interact with biocybernetics, is that my fall lasted about the usual amount of time, but my reflexes were firing in response to far more stimuli than normal.

My hand reached into my breast pocket and seized the loci, those blighted jewels that had indirectly caused my current predicament. I can’t say what I consciously expected, other than that I wanted to have the cause of my untimely demise in hand at the moment it all came crashing down. I must have gripped them more tightly than before, the edges digging into my palms and drawing blood. What happened next was difficult to process, even afterward.

I felt the skin of my hand peeling off, like I’d dipped my hand into boiling oil. I watched the sidewalk rush toward me at about the speed of the typical maglev train, and despite my smugness of seconds past, I closed my eyes. My chest lurched like I’d suddenly started falling upwards. The wind rushing past my ears fell silent. That seemed a lot less… violent than I had anticipated. Is death usually so anticlimactic?

I opened my eyes. A cackle tore free of my throat, lurched out right ahead of a wave of bile. I spat when my stomach was empty. The pool of vomit had splattered to the sidewalk beneath me, while I hovered several feet overhead.

“Eat your heart out Henry,” I rasped, throat hoarse from puking. “I am going to steal so much shit, you’ll never be able to give it all back.”

[pbjelly90]

Growing up, I thought I was fairly neurotypical, and didn’t really understand what it meant to be anything outside of that. I was never exposed to any information to help me figure out if I might be anything else. No one in my family was having open or compassionate discussions on mental health, despite our family’s complex history with it. But in the last six or so years I have noticed more and more behaviors of mine that lean towards the conclusion that I have some level of ADHD. Behaviors that I thought were maybe just my reactions to stress or aging suddenly have more explanation and show more of an understandable pattern.

I recognized I do a lot of masking and compensating for it, and maybe that’s part of why I’m often tired out? Or overstimulated and annoyed. Things like going into a noisy office or feeling like I’m bombarded by phone notifications. A noise in my neighborhood at an unexpected time. Some of this may be some level of my introversion, but it’s not only that. My focus in these situations is near impossible to maintain.

I’ve also been having memory issues and thought maybe at first some aging? But I’m only in my early-mid thirties (closer to mid I guess now) and that still seems young for how much I forget things. I still thought I was functioning pretty well, I can do things like pay bills and remember upcoming birthdays or events/appointments (but is my phone full of reminders for this? Yup.) I’ve just developed a lot of strategies to help myself. Post-it notes on the fridge and pantry if I have to fast before a blood test, putting items I need to bring with me right in front of my face somewhere obvious, that sort of thing.

But the other week, I left the stove on. Thank goodness my home did not burn down and everything is safe, but I left the stove on for over eight hours unattended overnight. The flame was burning so the CO was hopefully being burned off okay, but I came downstairs to a smell and some heat as I got closer to the kitchen and that freaked me out. What if something caught fire? What if the condo was full of dangerous gas? I Googled what to do and opened windows and turned on my air purifier, but it was a real scare to realize just how easily I could forget something so important.

The fear of repeating that might help me to remember not to make that particular mistake again, but it did leave a nagging worry, what if I do something similar? My family’s difficult history with mental health treatments has made me wary of medication, but maybe that’s something I need to consider for the future. I don’t normally share this much personal experience on here, but it did feel good to at least write this out. My next step I think will at least be to discuss this with my therapist.

I’m really grateful for the increased visibility these days into ADHD and neurodiversity as a whole. Without seeing more of people’s personal experiences with all these topics online, this level of understanding may have remained a mystery to me so much longer. Thanks to all who share and make those of us living with ADHD and other types of neurodiversity feel less alone and more understood and seen/heard. 💕