#and then i was reading about it and found the term anchor person and i was like oh.yes

[cuubism]

as much as i love traditionally married dreamling - and do i - i also have this bruised softness in my heart for 'what we have is outside relationship constructs, define it at your own peril' dreamling, for 'drifting in and out of each other's orbit with each other as perennial anchor point' dreamling, 'i haven't seen you in sixty years but what's that to an immortal, you are always in my heart' dreamling, 'our lives are not quite one but neither are they apart' dreamling. drop in on me, i am always ready to welcome you. and i will always let you go.

hob as a fixture, a constancy, a hearth, and dream as a wild creature coming in from the cold. it cannot be kept, and you would commit no such sin of trying to, but it can be held, warm, before the fireplace for a while. let it go, and trust that it will come back.

hob as a wanderer, life to life to life, and dream as an ancient, enduring kingdom whose protection is reachable just by closing your eyes. continuance impossible in the waking world but offered as easily as a kiss on the cheek.

there is no keeping a dream, is the thing. and dream does not want to be kept, but he does want to be held, held and let go and held again with those arms always open to him. there is no keeping an adventurer, either, and hob is an adventurer at heart, always ready to see, do, the next thing, but adventurers need a home, too, one that doesn't mind when they come back a little bit different.

go where you need to, when you need to. carry my love with you. and come back to me.

that kind of dreamling.

[cece693]

It's All For You (Jay Gatsby x GN! Reader)

Fun fact, one of my favorite books is The Great Gatsby. However, to this day, no one (in my opinion) has managed to fully encase what Jay represents. Character-wise, he's still the Gatsby chasing the green light, but in terms of face claim, I left him ambiguous. I know this is a very out-there fandom, and I know it won't be very popular, but it makes me happy :)

Summary: You were helping Jay see your cousin Daisy, but, somewhere down the line, you managed to become his anchor to reality.

tags: can be read with Nick in mind, Jay is an infatuated boy, clueless reader, Jay finally sees Daisy for what she is, happy ending

Daisy was enchanting. Captivating. Alluring. But none of those words seemed to fully encapsulate the aura she exuded. There was a lightness to her that drew people in, a kind of graceful detachment as if she floated through life just out of reach. Yet for all her beauty and charm, there was something elusive about her, something that kept everyone at arm's length. It was easy to be enchanted by her, to fall for the sparkling facade she wore like a second skin. And Jay Gatsby was no different—at least, that’s what I thought.

Gatsby had built a life around the idea of Daisy, a world spun from dreams and memories of a love long lost. The parties, the lavish displays, the rumors—they all pointed back to her, to the one he had let slip away. When I came to West Egg, I found myself pulled into his grand scheme to win her back. Daisy had asked for my help; I was her cousin, after all, and who better to act as a go-between, arranging encounters, helping to stage those first delicate meetings under the guise of friendly visits?

At first, Gatsby's devotion to Daisy seemed unwavering, as though he was single-mindedly determined to recapture the past. He spoke of her with reverence, like a man describing a distant star, bright and unattainable. He watched for her at every gathering, always positioned just so, as though one look from her would make all the years melt away. I helped him prepare for these moments, choosing the flowers, setting the table for tea, ensuring everything was perfect. He wanted it all to be just right for Daisy.

But as time went on, I noticed something I couldn’t quite name. The way Gatsby's gaze would flicker toward me in moments of quiet, how he would seek my approval on even the smallest details. There was a certain light in his eyes when we would linger in conversation long after the parties had ended and the rest of the world had gone to sleep. I chalked it up to Gatsby’s natural charm, to the friendship that had grown between us amid all the scheming. After all, I was helping my cousin's lost love find his way back to her.

The first real crack in the illusion came one afternoon when Gatsby and I were alone in his library, discussing the next gathering. Daisy had mentioned that she missed simpler times, the quietness of tea on a summer's day. I suggested we hold a small, intimate tea party just for the three of us, something more personal than the grand festivities that had become Gatsby's signature.

“It’s a wonderful idea,” Gatsby agreed, his voice softening as he looked at me, not in the direction of the distant green light that always seemed to capture his attention. “But it doesn’t feel right to ask so much of you, helping with all this.”

I waved off his concern. “Nonsense. I’m happy to help. If it makes Daisy smile, then it’s worth it.”

He gave a small, almost wistful smile. “I suppose it’s not just Daisy who I’m trying to make smile.”

I didn’t know what to make of that comment. I let it slide, laughing it off as a joke, but something about the way he said it stayed with me. There was a warmth in his tone that I couldn’t quite place, and in the days that followed, I began to see Gatsby in a different light.

The tea party came and went, with Daisy laughing and charming her way through the afternoon. Gatsby’s attention was on her, of course, but there was a shift, a subtle one, like a shadow moving across a wall. I found Gatsby watching me out of the corner of his eye, a lingering glance that held more than casual interest. It was as though he was trying to tell me something without words.

And then, one night, as the last strains of music from yet another party faded into the stillness, Gatsby approached me on the terrace. The moonlight cast long shadows across the lawn, and there was a hesitation in his steps that I hadn’t seen before.

“You know,” he began, leaning against the stone railing, “for the longest time, I thought everything I did was for Daisy. Every party, every bit of gold and glitter—it was all meant to bring her back to me.”

“Isn’t it still?” I asked, unsure of what he was getting at. “You’ve built all of this for her.”

“Yes,” he admitted, but there was a shift in his tone, a softness I hadn’t heard before. “But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about Daisy.”

The breath caught in my throat. “Then what was it about?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Gatsby turned to face me fully, his gaze searching mine. “It was about finding something real. I thought Daisy could give me that, but then I met you. You were there for every moment, every detail, pulling me back when I started drifting into dreams again. I started looking forward to your company, your words, your laughter.” He took a step closer, the intensity in his eyes almost overwhelming. “It was you who brought me back to reality.”

I stood frozen. “Jay,” I began, struggling to find the right words. “I—”

"You don't have to tell me anything, Y/N." Gatsby smiled, a minuscule one that conveyed just how difficult this was for him too. "I just wanted to make my interest clear."

His words hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting us in that moonlit moment. The warmth of his gaze sent a thrill racing through me, igniting something deep inside—a longing I had tried to ignore while orchestrating his reunion with Daisy. The truth crashed over me like a wave, and I realized that somewhere along the way, Jay Gatsby had become someone truly important to me.

In that electric silence, I felt the boundaries between us dissolve. I could no longer hold back. My heart surged with emotion, and before I could think, I stepped forward and closed the distance between us.

Our lips met in a fervent kiss, an eruption of pent-up desire and vulnerability. It felt like a revelation, as if everything I had been holding back rushed forth in that single moment. Gatsby’s surprise melted into a warmth that enveloped me, his hands moving to cradle my face as he kissed me back with a fervor that took my breath away.

Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in each other, the world around us fading into the background. The soft rustle of the leaves and the distant hum of the night felt like a distant echo. All I could focus on was the taste of him, the way he held me as if I were a fragile dream he was afraid to lose.

[bettyfrommars]

Death Becomes Us Part 4: I Love the Darkness in You

vampire!Eddie x supernatural!fem!Reader

Part 3 was a smut extra and you can find it here

Summary: Several new ST characters are introduced in this part, as you come to terms with the fact that you're living next to a cold-blooded killer. We learn more about what Eddie does for a living, and just when you think you're the loneliest person on earth---he comes to your rescue again. Word count: 5.7k

Series Masterlist

18+Only, Pls no minors, mature themes, there are some dark themes in this part (this whole series in general) including addiction, previously inflicted wounds, and mention of child neglect. Mention of a murder, grand theft auto, smoking, loneliness, please read warnings for each part.

A/N: For the sake of this series, all of the characters are the same as the show, but some have different backstories. The Upside Down is a place, but everyone exists as if the events of the show never happened. You do not have to be acquainted with True Blood to enjoy this, but those who are will notice some familiar terminology and situations pop up.

------

Part 4: I Love the Darkness in You

------

The next morning while you were at the kitchen window, watering the one house plant you had managed to keep alive while you lived in your hearse, the news on the TV mentioned something about the Klemp family. Needless to say, you almost broke your neck trying to dart across the dark orange carpet in your bare feet to turn the sound up.

The news anchor woman with a bob of dark hair looked into the camera as images of the three people in question appeared in the right-hand corner of the screen. “...the remains of Angela Klemp, along with her stepbrothers Doyle and Clyde, were found unresponsive at the bottom of Burns Ravine this morning. Police speculate that they were driving on Highway 96 near Dead Man’s Turn, when their vehicle lost control and went off the edge of the cliff: none of them survived. In other news, Police are asking questions about the…”

You backed up so far, you kicked the coffee table and spilled your cup of soda and ice, cursing as you did so. Sopping up the mess with a few paper towel before it could get on the carpet, your mind returned to the night before when you’d watched vampire Eddie end each one of their lives in a blink of an eye. A blink of an eye, a twist of the wrist; movements that seemed to take no more effort than for a regular human to dial numbers on a phone.

Eddie was a killer.

But then you remembered how vulnerable he’d been while at the mercy of nothing but thin, silver chains that pinned him to the ground and sapped his strength. Angie Klemp and her brothers had obviously been very skilled at trapping and draining vampires, but the risk was huge, and so the payoff must’ve been worth it. You had a flashback of the man you called father; the sound of rattling of pills in his desk drawer, and how he would stay up for days on end. And then there were the other pills in a locked cabinet in his bedroom for when he needed to sleep. He had his own laboratory in the basement and that is where you could find him if you ever really needed anything---but it had to be an emergency. You’d spent many a birthday and holiday alone in your room, reading your books, until your father finally rushed up the stairs, flustered, begging for your forgiveness, and ready to take you out for pizza or whatever; but by then, it was already too late.

He was always very sorry, and you always forgave him. It had just been you and him for as long as you could remember, and there were a few warm, happy memories that you clung to in those lonely days.

With the wad of wet paper towels in your fist, you found yourself staring over the back of your TV, through the far window, at the daytime silence of Eddie’s trailer. If not for the vehicles and motorcycles parked near some of the homes, you’d think that it was an abandoned lot; no sign of life anywhere. But, you could hear the soft lilt of a Neil Diamond song, letting you know that Dolores had her radio out on the porch while she got a suntan on her face with the aid of an aluminum shield braced under her chin.

You didn’t have to work that night, but you had a few things to cross off your list, so you jumped in the shower. This was your second shower since the run-in with the Klemp family the night before, and you were having hard time feeling clean enough. You wrapped a white terrycloth towel around you at the end, dripping onto the bile-green tile, continuing to forget you needed a bathmat, and tried not to slip as you dried off. When you were finished, you dropped the towel on the floor to soak up the water and put your foot up on the toilet to begin the standard ritual of tending to your scars with vitamin E.

You had arrived at a point in your life when you didn’t think about the fact that your body looked like it had once been cut into pieces as often, but in the bright, artificial light of the bathroom, the long scar that crisscrossed over your left knee and went all the way up your thigh to your hip bone, felt so hideous that you had to look away. Wishing the bottle of thick, sticky liquid in your hand was magic and would erase the marking on your flesh forever, you flipped the top and squirted some onto your finger, massaging it along the gnarled fissure with care. You’d been tending to them all this way for a few years, and you had only noticed a small difference, but at least it was something.

The last one you always took care of was the one on your cheek from the corner of your mouth to your ear, and as you were applying the ointment, there was a knock at your door.

You’d been so caught up in your thoughts that you jumped. You were naked, so you quickly snatched the towel off the floor and wrapped yourself in it.

“Who is it?” You called down the hall.

“Chief Hopper,” a deep voice returned. “I need to ask you a few questions.”

-----------

Earlier that day, at the crack of dawn, Jim Hopper sat at the end of his bed, shirtless, in a pair of unbuttoned jeans, and rolled his neck from side to side. There were empty beer cans on the dresser, and a small glass vile of dark red liquid in the ashtray next to a smashed out butt with lipstick on it. He groaned as he stood, fastening his jeans, snatching his pack of cigarettes off the bedside table as he went.

A smoke and some coffee first, maybe some aspirin, and then a shower and shave. There was gray coming in his beard stubble now and he was reminding himself too much of his old man to just let it grow out, even though he knew a beard would help to disguise the double chin he had going on as he entered his 50’s.

“Age is just a number,” is something Joyce would say, and to that he would reply: “Yeah, well why do I feel so fucking old, then?”

Joyce Byers hadn’t aged in a decade; that’s the one gift vampirism bestowed upon its victims. Being immortal? Living forever? Jim couldn’t imagine a worse fate. If someone turned him against his will, he’d give himself over to the sun immediately.

Joyce had chosen the vampire life, though, and for that—a part of him would never be able to forgive her. Sure, their fling was long over, and she’d been with Bob for a while now, but goddamn—he used to be able to daydream about growing old with her later in life, and now he couldn’t even do that.

He cursed as something fell out of his pocket while he was searching for his lighter. It was another small glass vial full of dark liquid—but this one was almost empty---and he held his cigarette between his teeth as he bent to catch it before it rolled under the bed. Picking up the vial, he regarded it between thumb and forefinger so he could get a good look at how many drops were left.

God, he hated this about himself. He hated the way he measured the days of his week around how much he had left in the vials. Every morning, he promised himself that he’d quit, as soon as work wasn’t so stressful and he had some time to himself to stomach the withdrawals.

The kitchen was cold, and it sent a pang through his heart, making him wish there was someone there to make a pot of coffee and sit with him for a few minutes before he left for work. He’d give anything to hear bacon sizzling in the pan and smell fresh squeezed orange juice again while cartoons played on the television. Those days were so long gone, but he could feel both his wife and daughter there as if it were happening in that moment.

He felt the emotions rise in his throat and choke there, making him dig for the vial in his pocket. He knew there was another full one in the ashtray in his bedroom, but he had to make them both last until next week, and it already wasn’t looking good. He tore a tiny corner off of a paper towel, and then bent to unscrew the cap and tap two drops onto the paper, watching the dark red liquid bleed into the fibers. He then placed the square of paper on his tongue and let it dissolve with a hard swallow and some sink water to wash it down.

He squeezed his eyes closed, knowing that relief would be coming soon, if only for a few hours.

----------

The Chief?

You mouthed it to yourself, panic prickling your hair follicles.

“Um, just a second,” you gushed, scrambling to your bedroom to find something to throw on.

You couldn't help but think this had something to do with the Klemp family, and your mind raced to think of what you would say if he did ask. A pair of loose, worn jeans and a t-shirt were the first two things you grabbed, and you were halfway to the door when you realized that the shirt was inside-out and backwards with the tag sticking in your chin, but the Chief was already knocking again, and you decided to leave it.

Standing tall and broad on your porch, Chief Hopper was handsome and road-weary; brown hair slicked back with gray at the temples and a few strands of gray in his mustache. His posture was intimidating, but his eyes were sad. He took his hat off as you answered the door, brushed his hair back, and then settled it back in place at the crown. He looked like he hadn’t slept well in years.

He asked your name, and introduced himself properly with a firm handshake.

Dolores was standing a few yards away on the dead grass of your yard with her arms crossed, watching the interaction with a frown; probably wishing you’d invite her up on the porch so she could hear every word.

Hopper had a small notepad in his hand that he squinted at before lifting his gaze back to you. “Does the name Angie Klemp ring a bell to you?”

Your voice came out as a squeak, but then you cleared your throat. “Yeah, I just saw on the news that they were….that they didn’t…”

“But, you met her yesterday, correct? At the bar where you work?” He pretended to need to check his notes as if he wasn’t sure of the name. “At Main Vein?”

You hadn’t been the one who killed them, but still your nerves were twitching. “I waited on their table, yes,” you admitted, trying to act nonchalant by putting your hand in the front pocket of your jeans and bracing your forearm on the door frame. “But, what is there to investigate? I thought their truck went off the road?”

You knew maybe that last bit was too much, but the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“Well,” he let out a huff, flipping his notebook closed. “A witness said they saw them draining a vampire in your parking lot. Do you know anything about that?”

Your bottom teeth gnawed on your top lip thoughtfully, as if that was a scenario you would easily forget. “No, I’m sorry,” you blinked a few times, innocently. “They paid and left, but then I went back to work and I never saw them again.”

Hopper’s poker face was set. No one had confessed to seeing the Klemp’s try to drain a vampire in the Main Vein parking lot---but he knew that was a crime they were rumored to participate in. A vampire scorned easily had the strength to snap their necks and send their car off a cliff with its bare hands. Plus, Angie’s body had bite marks on her throat, and most of her blood had been drained. Sure, a fatal crash off a cliff could snap some necks, but how had her blood miraculously been drained to the bone without a drop of it anywhere at the crash?

“What about your neighbor?” Hopper lifted his chin in the direction of Eddie’s place. “He was there last night too, did you happen to see him interact with them at all?”

“No,” the answer was possibly a bit too quick, but you followed it with. “He was there, but he left before they did.”

You wondered how this line of questioning would go if Eddie’s blood hadn’t done the magic work of healing you so quickly. You’d have a rope burn around your neck, a black eye, a broken skull, and a few crushed internal organs.

He asked a few standard questions after that, like how long had you lived there, and a phone number to reach you if he had more questions. He took another long look at Eddie’s trailer before reaching in the front pocket of his shirt to pinch a cigarette out of the soft pack.

He slid the cigarette to the side of his mouth and snapped the pocket closed. “Okay if I ask a personal question?”

“Depends on what it is, I guess,” you answered, convinced he was about to bring up your scars, or perhaps ask if you knew your shirt was on inside out and backwards.

He inclined his head to the rest of the trailer park. “What the hell made a nice girl like you move to a place like this?”

You stepped back into the trailer, about to shut the door, but then you paused. “Maybe I’m not a nice girl, Chief Hopper.”

---------

Later that day, once you were back from running errands, you took out the stack of Polaroid’s you’d taken so far and spread them out on the walnut coffee table in front of the orange and brown wagon wheel sofa. There was Argyle giving the peace sign in one, offering a no-teeth smile with his eyes closed, the sleeping beige dog at Robin’s bookstore, a stone frog in front of a row of red tulips, an extreme closeup of Bob’s face when he tried to take a photo of himself, and a green Buick with the bumper sticker that said: “God Hates Fangs”.

You smiled to yourself as you looked at the others, lining them up in two rows, realizing it was time to put new film in. Your eyes stopped on the one at Robin’s bookstore, at the ass end and tail of the dog that slept on a large pillow behind the cash register. Was that the same dog who had come to your rescue in the alley way?

You’d gone by there again that day, because you liked bookstores, and found the smell of books comforting, but you were also starting to like Robin. Besides Bob, she had the friendliest face in town, and you felt oddly comforted in her presence.

She was up on a ladder when you walked into the store, putting some hardbacks away on a top shelf. She had on a thin white shirt with buttons all the way up to the neck, a long, fitted chocolate corduroy skirt passed her knees and slouchy leather boots that went up to mid-calf. Her glasses fell off her nose when she turned to look at who had just come in, but the beaded chain around her neck caught them as they flopped to her chest.

“It’s you,” she beamed, tucking hair behind each ear, descending the ladder. “I was hoping I’d see you again soon. I have something for you.”

“For me?” You couldn’t contain the shock in your voice. You’d barely just met her and you weren’t used to strangers being so generous and open-handed with you.

She stepped over the dog to get behind the cash register, and you bent down to get a better look at the dog’s face. Its eyes were closed, chin resting on its paw, but it was definitely the pit bull terrier that had rescued you the night before. You squatted down to pet the animals head.

“Have I introduced you to Lucy?” Robin asked, referring to the dog.

“I think we met by accident last night,” feeling the warm, velvet of her soft fur. “She came to my rescue, I guess you could say.”

You stood straight to find that Robin had been watching you pet Lucy, but then her gaze shifted away quickly.

“Lucy gets off her leash sometimes,” she told you. “But here, I found this tucked away in one of the used book boxes.”

You watched the long, graceful fingers of her hand, adorned in silver rings, slide a book across the top of the desk to you. It was the third installment of the series you’d been looking for. You picked it up and ran your thumb down the image of a woman in a hooded cloak on the front, flanked by two wolves.

You decided to browse around, and at one point, Robin came up next to you as she organized books on a shelf. “Did you hear about what happened to Angie Klemp and her bothers? The whole town’s been talking about it.”

You held your breath on an inhale for a beat and then, “Yeah, I heard about it on the news this morning. I just waited on their table last night and now this.”

Robin walked around to the other side of you, brushing into you a little with her arm as she went, her intense body heat blazing you like a flash of 90 degree heat. “I know you’re new here,” she began keeping her eyes to the books. “But I feel like I wouldn’t be a decent friend if I didn’t warn you to keep your distance from the vampires around here. I know a lot of them are nice, and are trying to do their best to integrate, but they’ll always be dangerous.”

You didn’t say anything in return, and so she continued. “I know I’m basically a stranger, and you have no reason to trust me, but I just want you to be safe.”

“Thank you,” you responded in a whisper. “I generally keep everyone at arms length be it vampire or human, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” You chuckled a bit self-consciously at the end, and Robin continued down the isle with her armful of books, wondering what she could say to make you stay and talk for a bit longer.

-------

Back in your trailer, with the Polaroids spread out in front of you while you put new film in your camera and watched an episode of Forensic Files, you hadn’t noticed the sun set until you heard the door to the trailer next door open and slam shut.

Vampire Eddie was up and about.

Not that you cared.

But you stood up and moved like you were going to the kitchen to see if you could get a glimpse of him anyway.

Of course, he was looking up at your window as he took a pull on his cigarette, and your eyes met. He bucked his chin at you, grinning, knowing that you’d probably had a dream about him already, and he wondered if you’d enjoyed it.

You went to the kitchen to slap together some cheese and crackers because you didn’t have much food in the house, but then you realized you probably should let Eddie know that the police had come around asking questions so that he wasn’t caught off guard. You went out on the porch, but didn’t see him anywhere. Had he gone back inside? He’d just been standing there 3 seconds ago.

“Eddie?” It was barely a whisper, a sigh on a stolen breath.

In a flash, he appeared; standing below your raised porch balcony, tilting his head back to look up at you, hands in his pockets. “Yes, madame? You called?”

“How did you---oh, never mind,” you shook your head. “Do you want to come up?”

He squeezed one eye closed, tilting his head. “Are you inviting me in?”

“No,” you clarified quickly. “I’m inviting you up, to this porch, so that I don’t have to shout at you for the whole trailer court to hear.”

He made his way up the steps like a normal human would, sauntering over to perch his elbow on the railing. You weren’t afraid of him, not like most humans were, and it made him feel like he could relax around you in a way he hadn’t felt in a decade. Like the two of you were just a couple of humans neighbors, having a chat about the weather.

“Chief Hopper came by to ask me some questions earlier,” you rested your back on the side of the trailer, across from him.

Eddie rolled his shoulders under his leather jacket. “Yeah, I figured he might. What did you tell him?”

“I told him…” you were whispering and glancing from side to side to make sure no one was around. “...the truth. That I was their server, but then I never saw them again that night.”

“Good girl,” Eddie praised, pulling the pack of cigarettes out from inside his leather jacket. He tapped it on the palm of his hand. “I told you not to worry about it.”

You licked your teeth. “Well, I’m not worrying because I have no idea what they did after they left the bar.”

“Damn,” he smiled around his cigarette. “You catch on quick, and I didn’t even have to Glamour you.”

Your forehead pinched. “Glamour me?” You asked, not understanding the phrase.

“Yeah,” he flicked his fancy silver lighter and ignited the tip. “Haven’t you heard of it? It’s a vampire thing. We can wipe out a part of a human memory to make them forget things.”

You considered that, wondering if you’d been Glamoured already and just didn’t know it.

He lowered his chin and looked up at you from under hooded eyes. “Do you want me to Glamour some parts of that night away from you?”

“How do you do it?” You didn’t want him to do it to you, but you were curious.

“Like this,” in a millisecond, he had bridged the distance and was inches from you; full, soft lips parted, golden-flecked brown eyes landing with purpose onto yours. You took in the lines of his face, his long lashes, the slope of his nose, the smell of nicotine and cinnamon on his breath. Without blinking, he seemed to be trying to stare into your soul, but then he clenched his forehead after a few seconds, confused.

He took a step back. “That’s weird,” he mumbled.

“What’s weird?” You blinked a few times. “Did you do it?”

He dropped back against the railing, frowning at you. “I couldn’t Glamour you for some reason. It usually always works with humans.”

You turned your head away at his words, wishing you could just be normal for once, and to your surprise, he let the topic go and didn’t ask any questions.

“I gotta jet,” he said, clearing his throat and flicking his smoke. “Duty calls.”

He was trotting down the steps, wallet chain jangling at his hip, when you called out to him. “Duty? What duty? What is it you do, anyway?”

He lifted his arm in a backwards wave, and that was when you noticed a different car parked at his trailer. It was dark red, and you couldn’t see exactly which make it was...an Audi, maybe? He got in behind the wheel, and after a few minutes of him bent over the column of the wheel, the engine sparked to life, and he sped off, kicking up a dust cloud behind him. You also notice that there were no identifying plates on the vehicle.

------

With his cig held between his lips, Eddie hot-wired the car that was very much stolen and on it’s way to the chop shop, and then he sat up and adjusted the rear view mirror so that he could get a look back at you standing on the porch.

He couldn’t figure you out.

He was starting to resent the fact that you were neighbors now because it seemed he’d never be free of the curiosity hold you had on him. He didn’t know a single human who would’ve risked their life trying to rescue him like you had. Partially because everyone assumed vampires could always take care of themselves, and also, Eddie had pushed everyone away who ever tried to stay close to him. Especially since he was turned.

The people he cared about were better off without him in their life.

--------

A few days went by of you adjusting to your new place, your new job, and figuring out where everything was in town, but you didn’t see hide nor hair of Eddie. You figured he was waking up when you were going to sleep, and back in his trailer before you got out of bed, but one night you noticed he never came home at all. You visited with Robin again at Nightshade Bookstore and on your way to grab something from your vehicle before you went into work, there was a guy cupping his hands to look into the windows, inspecting it.

“Can I help you?” You asked from the sidewalk.

He was tall with broad, with muscular shoulders and arms; white tee under his black and red flannel just a tad too tight so that you could see the outline of his pecs. Worn jeans, work boots, and a thick head of caramel brown hair, and it was slicked back, just long enough to tuck behind his ears.

“Sorry,” his generous mouth spread in a smile as he came around the front toward you. “Is this yours?” He gestured at the hearse.

You nodded without saying anything, waiting for him to explain what he was doing.

“’79 Cadillac, yeah?” He asked it like he was familiar with cars, but you had to correct him.

“76.”

He had a disarming way about him and you started to relax as he backed up to look at the front grille. “My grandpa loved Caddy’s,” he mused aloud. “And I’ve never seen a hearse up close before.”

“You’ve never been to a funeral?”

He turned his head and looked you up and down, dark lashes rimming cherrywood eyes. “Sweetheart, surely you know that not everyone gets buried the same way when they die,” he dislodged the piece of gum that was in his cheek and began to chew it again. “We deal with death a bit differently where I’m from.”

You took the bait. “Yeah, where are you from?”

That was when he turned with his hands on his hips, inclining his head up the street, in the direction of the mountains. “My family are all up in the hills. Private people, we stick to our own. Names Steve,” he winked at you. “Steve Harrington.”

You told him your name, and there was a polite exchange before you you moved to unlock your door and he headed down the side walk in the opposite direction. You both turned back to peak over your shoulders at each other at the same time, just before Steve disappeared into the bookstore.

--------

That night at Main Vein, a family of four tourists came in with hopes of seeing a vampire, but Argyle was the only one in the building, so Bob begged him to show his fangs and take a picture with them. You took the photo while Erica shook her head in the background.

Erica mentioned being frustrated that she couldn’t meet up with her friends at the movie theater, and since it wasn’t busy, you offered to finish up and take her tables.

“You’d do that for me?” She asked with a squint, waiting for you to have some reciprocity in mind.

“Of course,” you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t have a life, remember?”

“Well, I’ll try not to make fun of you for it next time,” she reached around to untie her apron and gave you the glimmer of a smile.

Things got so quiet after midnight that Bob gave you and Argyle the okay to close up early.

“Where are you off to tonight?” You asked as you wiped down tables. “Hot date?”

Argyle always looked stylish, but he was particularly flawless that night.

“Nah,” he pulled a joint out of his front pocket and stuffed it behind his ear. “My buddy Jonathan is in town. We’re gonna get blitzed and watch Mystery Science Theater.”

“Is Jonathan a---”

“Vampire?” Argyle finished. “No way. He’d make a good one though. He loves the hours we keep.”

“Let me know if this is too personal,” you went over to the bar where his was. “But how did you become a vampire in the first place?”

As far as you knew, there were only two ways people turned: either they were forced via some brutal attack, or they chose it willingly; there really wasn’t any in between. You didn’t just accidentally wake up a vampire one day.

He folded his cash tips from the night and shoved them in the back pocket of his jeans. “The how and the why are the same, I guess,” he admitted. “And neither one of them matter anymore,” he added on a sigh. “But, why does a fool do anything? I did it for love.”

---------

Argyle walked you to your car, but you waved him off a bit too soon, because by the time he was already in his orange VW Beetle and buzzing down the street, you realized with a burst of panic that you’d locked your keys inside the hearse when you went out on your break earlier.

“Shit,” you cursed, dropping your head, hands balling into frustrated fists, trying to decide what your options were as you stood alone on the shadowy side of the already dark street. Just a half a block down the sidewalk is where you were attacked by the Klemp family, and it made your hand move reflexively to your throat at the visceral memory.

Argyle had the keys to Main Vein, so you couldn’t use the phone in there. Even if you could, who would you call? The fact that you couldn’t think of a single person you could count on at the drop of a hat made the bell of loneliness ring louder than ever before in your ears.

You stepped back to get an idea of the street, and see if maybe there was something you could break a window with. You’d didn’t have the money to get your window fixed, but you’d seen people who drove around with a piece of cardboard sealed with duct tape to make up for broken glass, and maybe that’s the type of person you’d need to be for a while.

You had no idea where the nearest payphone was, and you weren’t about to start knocking on doors to ask a vampire if you could use their landline. Reluctantly, you started looking for a rock or brick heavy enough to bust the back window out. You were just about to bend over and grab a piece of metal pipe near the parking lot when the sound of approaching music made you freeze.

The sound had a dark, heavy beat, and it was getting closer. Pretty soon, you watched a black Pontiac GTO muscle car swing around the block at high speed and than jerk to a stop in front of you; big engine purring, windows open, music blaring.

It was Eddie.

“Need a ride?” He called out to you.

You looked down at the pipe you were about to grab. “How did you know I locked my keys in my hearse?”

“I didn’t,” he said, turning the music down, leaning over to make eye contact with you through the passenger window. “I just felt the bat signal. I could tell you needed help.”

Well, okay, I guess this ingesting Eddie’s blood thing had some benefits.

“Get in,” he told you, stretching over to unlock the door. “I’ll take you home. I know a guy who can get your keys out tomorrow.”

Eddie had the tools and the skill to get your door unlocked for you in that moment, and it would only take him a couple seconds, but you didn’t know that about him yet, and he’d decided that he wanted some company that evening.

From the looks of it, he was a lunatic behind the wheel, and you had no idea where he was getting these cars from, and for what---but you really didn’t have any other decent options.

You slid into the soft leather seat next to him, and you felt like you were in an episode of Night Rider. The inside smelled like strawberry air freshener, nicotine, and the pleasant spicy whiff of Eddie’s cologne. His hand was cupped over the gear shift, metal rings gleaming, and some type of skull design on the back of his hand.

“I was just on my way to do this one work thing, but then I’ll take you right home after,” he had waited to tell you this until the car was in motion, tearing onto the main street. “It’s on the way.”

You clutched your bag to your lap. “A work thing?”

“You’ll see,” he assured you. “Have you ever heard of Sacrament? It’s a real vampire bar.”

“No,” you swallowed, watching the scenery whiz by, thinking that a broken car window really wouldn’t have been so bad. “But why do I have a feeling that’s about to change?”

“Yes, Princess,” he took his eyes off the road for what you considered to be way too long to look over at you. “That’s all about to change. Some of the vampires at this place are old fuckers. Been around forever.”

He turned the music back up a bit, brought his hand down to shift, and then turned the music back down again.

“Hey, but no one will fuck with you, okay? I promise,” he kept his eyes on the road this time. “You’re with me tonight.”

Part 5

----

Thank you so much for reading!

[technovillain]

I saw the sashamilla post and had to answer: everyone always talks about or explores the subject of Milla being a comforting presence for Sasha, but I want to advocate the opposite. Sasha being Milla's rock or anchor when things are emotionally hectic. Perhaps she's not feeling well or is just having one of those days, but either way when Sasha sees her in that state he readily opens his arms to offer a quiet, but equally warm solace. Long story short, I'd love to read more of Sasha being as emotionally attentive to Milla as she is commonly described with him if that makes any sense. Love your art btw, 10/10 art style.

!!!!!

Huge fan of this take tbhhhh I totally see them this way too. I honestly really like the idea that a lot of Milla's coping mechanisms in the latter part of her life may have been a result of Sasha. If you subscribe to their Li-Po backstories....which I really like to.... it's fun to analyze the setup of Milla's brain in a way that supports this concept too like. At first glance, Sasha and Milla's brains seem like total opposites, in terms of aesthetic and function. I would argue that Milla's brain is the one that follows Psychonauts brain level conventions the least. There really isn't a conflict that she's facing and Raz doesn't really mess with her psyche in any sort of way. Her "lore" that you can discover is pretty well coincidental/hidden away.

The visuals to getting to her hidden room remind me a lot of Sasha's mind, a big locked box with orange glowing light inside. Following the Li-Po story, Sasha was the one who found Milla after the events of the fire and was her temporary therapist and helped her get her psychic powers in check.

So I really like the idea that Sasha's methods of emotional regulation (although they can seem a bit extreme when he uses them) could be really helpful for Milla's contrasting personality and making her feel grounded.

[also THANK YOU SM!!!]

[tk-duveraun]

20/? Luo Binghe is SO NORMAL about Shen Yuan

7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 (here), 21

Read up through even numbered parts on Ao3

We're quickly approaching the end!

The Snow Leopard chief agreed to Luo Binghe's terms, on the condition that he find them another home if Linguang-jun's territories were too cold. It was difficult for her to consider any place too cold, but the Mobei Clan were pure ice demons and neither party knew where Linguang-jun's land was.

She left him in the care of her nephew, one of the few men left in their population. He asked too many questions about the human realm for Luo Binghe to get much actual sleep, but the food and water were enough when combined with simply sitting.

Just when he was left alone, the System pinged with a notification.

[Answering User: Entity "Luo Baixiao" located. Reassignment pending.]

Luo Binghe slumped into a puddle on the pile of furs he'd been given to sleep on. On one hand, the whole everything with the System raised some serious questions about reincarnation, but on the other hand he was too busy planning on how to marry Shen Yuan to have an existential crisis.

"Can I do anything for him? He did give me my wife."

[Reminding User he is still single.]

"Can I help the kid or not?"

[Upon Completion of Main Scenario Campaign "Intricate Rituals with my Shixiongdi" rewards can be transferred to other entities.]

"Do it."

[This action is not reversible. Recommended action: review rewards.]

"Are you going to marry him to Shen Yuan if the transfer goes through?]

[System rewards do not involve manipulating free will decisions of entities enjoined with System.]

"Then I don't care. Queue the transfer for when I get this bread."

[Confirm action: YES/NO]

Luo Binghe jabbed "yes" and closed the window. He closed his eyes and breathed easily for the first time since seeing the vision of Luo Baixiao's doomed seduction attempt. Luo Binghe wasn't a good or nice person, but he paid his debts.

Once the migraine brought one from bonding with Xin Mo finally faded, Luo Binghe stood and left the hut. There was a sharp wind blowing air that smelt like the sea through the village. Few people were still out and those that were had their noses covered with thick masks.

Luo Binghe found the chief, gave her a firm nod and then went to the gully at the edge of the village. It was where the village drained their waste, but the salty wind neutralized some of the smell. More importantly, Luo Binghe was too polite to risk destroying a nice part of their village if he failed his first attempt to make a portal to the demon realm.

The Endless Abyss, according to Shen Yuan's lessons, was similar to a secret realm — a pocket dimension — anchored to the world: both the human and demon realms. Whereas the barrier between the human and demon realm had natural convergence points, the Abyss could only connect through violent rending. The opening he'd fallen through at the conference had been opened by the cries of the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python.

He kept all of those concepts in the front of his mind as he held out Xin Mo. He raised it to the air before him and felt Meng Mo's presence appear in the back of his mind, watching.

At first, there was nothing, then he released his control on Xin Mo's corruption. As the sludge-like energy spread throughout his body, he felt the blade catch on the air. Luo Binghe closed his eyes and pictured the Northern desert in the demon realm as clearly as he could based on descriptions from both IRS and Qing Jing's library.

Xin Mo's harsh qi burned through his spiritual system, but inch by inch the sword sank into nothing and tore through the air. By the time the sword was level with Luo Binghe's hip, an answering icy wind was gusting through the portal, freezing the sweat on his skin.

The process was painful, laborious and took intense concentration. When it was over, Luo Binghe would wonder how the hell the Original Goods managed to get out with the awful thing, but in the moment it took everything he had to finish the job. When Xin Mo finally hit the rains of salt on the ground, Luo Binghe nearly fell to his knees.

Painfully, he peeled the frozen sweat off his brow and turned to start on his way back to the village. But it seemed he'd taken so long most of the village had gathered behind him, their belongings wrapped in fur and fabric, then strapped to their backs.

Though he was still panting with exertion, Luo Binghe grabbed the edge of the rift in space and pulled. It was like holding a live wire, but instead of stopping his heart the electricity just lit Xin Mo's corrupted qi ablaze. Luo Binghe felt like a seagull trapped in an oil spill that had caught on fire, but he didn't let go, just kept pulling until the Snow Leopard chief stepped through the portal and onto the snow.

From the other side, she clucked and called to her people. One by one, they took deep breaths and stepped through the jagged hole in space.

Luo Binghe loosened his grip on the tear and it remained open, so he fully snatched his hand back. He desperately wanted to protect himself from Xin Mo, but he didn't want to risk locking the sword away closing the portal. He could only grit bared teeth and imagine tearing each Snow Leopard as they walked past him with their entire life on their person.

By the time the last of the demons was through the portal, Luo Binghe had gouged deep rivets in his left hand. His right held Xin Mo in a death grip as he finally let himself step through the portal. When both feet touch the snow, he dropped Xin Mo and yelled like he was going Super Saiyan.

To his disgust, that was an extremely efficient way of constructing his qi defenses against Xin Mo. He sneered at nothing and let himself pass out.

[bloodstainsontengensfloor]

Late night PJO thought: This is unorganized. Messy. It’s just brain vomit. Bare with me.

So like looking back at the PJO book series at Luke’s age in TLT just makes me realize how FOUL Luke’s treatment of Annabeth and Silena was, primarily Annabeth. I think the TV show making Luke more nuanced is a great route to take but I also hope they keep the fact that he’s actually not a ‘good’ person.

Like I can’t imagine treating even my friends who are a year younger than me the way Luke treated Annabeth over the course of the first five books. The second I turned 18, I became so aware of my age and after going to college, I became so aware of how YOUNG a teenager is. And don’t get me started on how young a tween is. The manipulation was actually insane. Pleading her, someone SEVEN YEARS YOUNGER THAN HIM, to run away with him so he doesn’t have to do all the bad things he does. Him using her as his anchor (which I found so interesting) and even in his final moments asking if she loved him? And I know this part is a bit controversial in terms of interpretation. Was it romantic or did Annabeth just misunderstood and take it that way which is why she answered it? In the Staff of Hermes, Percy talks about Luke having developed romantic feelings for Annabeth- which once again could be the result of an unreliable narrator. The TV show makes a point to eliminate any possibility of this *possible* misconception. Either way though, it still can read as such a power move. Like before he dies he make sure that he still has some control over her. Something that will always haunt her, when in all honesty he isn’t the Lucy gray to her Coriolanus Snow. He’s closer to the latter 😭

And also important to note is the difference between how he treated Annabeth and Thalia. He knew annabeth admired him, even if he didn’t know if it was a school yard crush.

Like looking back and thinking about it as an adult, the way Luke put all that responsibility on Annabeth’s shoulder? Like the “oh I can fix him” mentality but totally turn it on its head and weaponize it almost? Like she was going through it. Their relationship is complicated. And I’m gonna re-read the books and definitely have a more clearer version of everything but before I do this has just been cooking in my head as my brain continues to develop.

Ironically, I do think Luke is a fascinating and interesting character but boy. Some aspects of his villainy are so like child’s book antagonist and other aspects of it are so real. Like the way Luke manipulates Annabeth is something that happens all the time to girls and older guys.

[aroace-musings]

My Agender Journey

I never understood this thing called gender. Never did I feel "girl" nor "boy". I just felt like me. An individual. A person. A homo sapiens. Just someone existing on this great blue planet called Earth.

As I kid, gender roles utterly baffled me. Why did these colors signify "boy", yet those colors signify "girl"? Why did these set of toys appeal to "boys", but those set of toys appeal to "girls"? Why were "girls" expected to behave one way and boys another? Societal rules and expectations were a total enigma to my younger self.

In first and second grade, I would often use the "boy's" bathroom because it was closer to the classroom. Many times the nun and principal would scold me. And many times they made me walk laps around the gym or write lines on the chalkboard. I no longer remember what they made me write. Probably something along the lines of "I will only use the girl's bathroom".

Then came the puberty talk, and my whole world shattered. Boobs? Why would you want those? Period? Oh, hell no! My brain seemed adamant that these things would never happen to me.

At eleven, puberty shattered my denial like a hammer smashing through a window. I remember that horrible day most vividly. I wore burgundy stretchy pants, and all of my thoughts were focused on beating Ganon, the final boss in The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. But a weird pain in my belly distracted me. Using the bathroom, my worst fears had come true. I had hoped I would be one of those who couldn't get a period, but alas, this was not to be. It took my mom hours to convince me to use a pad.

Then came the boobs. And when the boobs came, gender dysphoria really sunk its teeth into me. I remember crying in the shower trying to push the breast tissue back into my chest. I did everything to hide this abomination on my chest. I wore tight fitting sports bras and baggy shirts.

I told nobody but my friend in high school of my feelings. Only to him did I tell of how horrible my chest and period made me feel. That I didn't want either, for it signified a gender that I didn't identify with, not in the slightest.

It wasn't until uni that I discovered the word agender in a psychology journal. With the discovery of this word, all my experiences suddenly made sense. What a relief that I could now encapsulate them all into a single, solitary word. A word that conveyed a lived experience difficult to describe otherwise. A lone word instead of an entire army of them.

Going onto the internet, I found others like myself. A whole community of individuals with similar experiences and struggles. Upon finding this community, I felt a flood of relief. Others felt as I did. I wasn't alone. I wasn't crazy. I was just agender!

It was also during this time that I discovered the term gender dysphoria. A term that resonated with me deeply. I self-identified as suffering from it years before a psychologist officially diagnosed me with it.

Shortly after these life-changing revelations, I learned about top surgery. Well...not top surgery per se. But I did learn that you could get an elective double mastectomy. I learned this when I read Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg for a queer literature class at uni.

The instant I learned that such a thing as top surgery existed, I knew that I wanted... No, not wanted...needed. I knew that I needed top surgery if I ever hoped to alleviate the gender dysphoria that plagued me constantly.

Looking into it, my hopes sunk like an anchor thrown overboard. At that time...this was in the mid noughties...my state required that you take testosterone for six months before a doctor could approve you for top surgery.

Since I knew that I didn’t need testosterone to alleviate my gender dysphoria, I resigned myself to the fact that I may have to live with these lumps on my chest for the rest of my life. Many days, I felt deformed and unnatural.

After a fifteen year wait, my state finally got rid of the six month testosterone requirement for top surgery. I can’t describe the utter joy I felt on that day. When I read the news, I flapped my hands and squealed in excitement. I even did a little jig around my bedroom.

It took a few years to get all the pieces in place, but it eventually happened. On 18 October, I finally got top surgery at the Madison Surgical Center. Dr. Gast performed the operation. I had a double incision mastectomy with free nipple grafts.

Two weeks post op, all is going well. I can't wait until it's all healed, and I can go shirtless as I did when I was a child!

And the best part of all? My insurance covered it! I did have to pay some expenses, but thankfully, I didn’t have to cover the entire cost. Also, two kind souls donated to my gofundme, and these donations helped cover some of my travel expenses. From the bottom of my heart, I thank them.

Well that’s all I have for today. Until next time, take care and stay curious.

[shmowder]

It's 5 am (.... don't even ask, this certainly isn't the first time and it won't be the last 😅) so there isn't going to be a lot of substance here but PLAGUE DOCTOR READER HELL YES I am once again saying your knowledge of herbs is immense and your beak is huge. Even orderly reader could be something. They'd still get the cool bird costume!

"The herbbride x reader was because I wanted to smooch a herb bride pls let pls :"(((" Pathologic dating sim when!!!!

I think you have a point about detailed readers, and I'm not just saying that ^^ Especially in a longer fic, having a specific job and/or background can definitely help build the story and anchor the reader to the universe. The real problem for me arises when the reader's personality is well-defined for no reason (for instance, if the prompt is specifically about shy reader or bratty reader). Like I was once reading this random set of general headcanons and the reader was bold and sassy and rebellious and I was like who tf is this person. The more I attempt to describe this issue the more I realize it might just be a me problem :o)

Stopppp no bc I also thought the Big Vlad comment was kinda 👀 Then again, he called me a gullible kid in the same breath. Which is kind of accurate so I don't really mind.

Man that concept art of the Stamatins is cool. Andrey's animal being a shark is perfect; so is Capella+butterfly and Maria+cobra.

-

It makes me really happy to hear that these conversations are making the game more fun! I feel lucky to have found your blog, too. <3

Some random stuff I've been thinking about your BG3 blog for a few days, since I had another look at it recently. First of all the drabbles masterlist?? Holy shit you've written so much, it's amazing! I had only checked out your "my works" link before. Crybaby Tav my kindred spirit. And I'm obsessed with how organized everything is.

Your OC Sol is stunning!! I think it's so cute that you even have a section dedicated to other people's OCs. I've been trying on and off for a while to perfect my OC using the Sims 4. My favorite thing about the Sims 4 is as soon as I open the game I immediately forget what a human face is supposed to look like. Still, it's fun even though I'm not 100% satisfied yet.

🐿️ anon

or

Plague doctor Reader after some surgeon's grass potions are more effective at combating the plague than the leeches you've been administrating to the sick:

(they were expensive leeches) (it was your last jar too)

The fun a plague doctor reader would have in pathologic, it is literally plague utopia, isn't it? Daniil having to come to terms that someone like you holds the same authority and prestigious standing as someone like his will never not be hilarious.

Also, the mental image of plague-doctor!reader being"I'm a healer.... but" *relaods shotgun*

would the leeches work? theoretically they should since it was the earth blood which cured the illness. Which annoys Daniil even more that your barbaric and outdated methods are more effective than his pharmaceutical antibiotics but they're still less effective than Artemy's tinctures.

The executors or orderlies follow after the reader instead of the bachelor, akin to a bunch of small chicks trailing after their mother hen.

Daniil is mean and yells a lot. You're nice. They'd rather follow your orders instead.

Also the whole gothic look? The long beak, the anonymity of the mask, the black coat and gloves. It's just so intriguing, rumours about how you must look like under the mask keep spreading through out the town and people are getting more and more curious.

you're like a doctor doctor, not a philosophy doctor like Daniil or a priest surgeon like Artemy. You aren't afraid to go to extreme measures to cure this plague which is clearly the work of the devil. Carrying viles of acid around and managing to makeshift a small lab to conduct your experiments in, making various concoctions and trying them out on the helpless paitents. Some work, others melt their eyes off, it's still a work in progress.

-

About the Bg3 blog. lmao yeah I wrote so much, i even made some original characters like the loser high elf for the human kink thing. It was an amazing time, I hope i stay in the pathologic fandom for just as long and leave a similar legacy behind.

Thank you so much! Sol is my first ever OC, i love them more than the sun <3 I wanted to make an irredeemable unlovable character and shower them with absolute love and adoration.

Oh god crybaby!tav. Those were the good times. Like sure I enjoy being a strong and capable reader, but sometimes a reader who's helpless as a kitten and constantly tears up at the slightest misfortune is just so fun to write!

Clinging to whoever comes to save you, relying on them to solve your problems. Continously making bad choices or tripping, endangering yourself without realising it because you're just so oblivious and they need to rush in and immediately whisk you away because you just can't function on your own.

Keeping you under watch constantly. You're too air headed to realise how dire the situation is, too naive and trusting.

A reader like that would make Daniil's hair sprout grey, frustrating him endlessly as he has to urgently drop his responsibilities and run across the town because you wandered too far into the steppe to pick pretty flowers and now you're lost, cold and confused and sleezy men won't stop eyeing you.

Or an Artemy that doesn't believe it when you actually sat on his lap after he threw a teasing remark that you look like a lost pet sitting alone at the bar. Who is concerned that you're so willing to trust this hulking gaint surgeon who could break you in half. Who's brain can't function because you keep fidgeting on his lap, unawarly pressing yourself against him.

Alexander Saburov might just be the most fun out of these bunch to have a crybaby reader running to him at every minor problem or inconvenience. He's cooing at you while wiping your tears, asking what's wrong? He'll make it right, you're safe with him. His ego tiples in size the more you cling to his arm when walking in dangerous areas, his back straightness more as you refuse the help from any other person but him, even telling Victor Kain himself to not get near you because he scares you while hugging Alexander instead.

You'd send Yulia into an early grave, everyday is an almost heart attack with that woman who's trying her best. No matter how many lectures on safety or being independent she gives you, her words are too big for your brain and you zone out halfway through. Thinking that the worried expression on her face is super adorable, interrupting her speech with a kiss and making a fuse blow in her brain as she immediately forgets what she was speaking about. The usually collected Yulia, flustered and stuttering as you ask for more kisses.

-

Your comment about playing the sims made me actually choke with laughter I cannot coahxoqjkdkq I feel you. God I do.

[crazylittlejester]

I read your latest fic (love) and the note that went along with it and the intrusive need to say something is eating me. The emotional closeness means I have to write this anonymously, wish I was braver to attach my name to the things I write.

I lost someone that meant the absolute world to me a couple years ago, and I held onto their notes and writings and pictures like an anchor holds onto a boat. Over time, I lost some of those things, notes deleted, pictures lost with moves, whatever. It’s crushing, it feels like if you lose those things you lose the last parts of those people who gave them to you. It took a while for me to realize that the greatest gift I received from this person (and ultimately from anyone who matters to me) is much more intangible. This person nourished my love of cooking, they made me feel unashamed for liking fantasy and sci fi, they never wavered in caring about me, and I them. I only recently came to terms with being aroace, and part of that acceptance was understanding how that person would have accepted me no matter what. For me, these intangibles were and are worth their weight in gold, and while the other things were valuable, their loss didn’t mean that I’d lost my connection with the person I cared for.

This is turning into a bit of a novel but I hope it doesn’t feel like I’m diminishing your loss. My only hope is that maybe, in some small way, it provides perspective on something that’s so painful in the moment.

im glad you found other ways to keep your connection with that person. It’s kinda incredible how we can keep people with us and carry them around in doing things that remind us of them or memories we might’ve had with them. we’re all just made up of little pieces of the people that we love

it really means a lot that you shared this, thank you 💜 /gen

[quinndominion]

Quinn Rambles (but any advice welcome)

Bonus pic cuz I always feel weird posting just text to tumblr. That's a real sim out there amidst the hood deco. Cookies for anyone who can tell who it is!

Okey-dokey. So, I rambled this ramble a week ago and deleted it, since in the process I came full circle. I still expect to end up here, where I am, but...I'm going to write it out anyway. Again.

What's the hold up? Well, I am still pruning pics for one single scene! (Day at the Lands') There are enough there to be its own full chapter, which i think I may have done on purpose (?) since I clearly went back to it. I mean, I know what I wrote so I'm glad I found the pictures, but they weren't even in the same freakin' folder! (That comes from actively triple booting a few years ago between Win7, Win10, and Linux - they're all pointed at the same game files but the screenshots are saved wherever and I'd forgotten about that at first.) And with a backstory, unlike gameplay, I can't whittle it down to 10-15% of the zillion pics I took and still tell the same story. They're all pretty damn deliberate, with only 1 or 2 alternative perspective shots, so I've only shaved off about 50% and who's going to read all that? Especially sandwiched in with the rest. But then who apart from Peni was going to read it anyway and I don't think she minds the length (?) But I have noticed a few more old friends still around so who knows, who knows.

I still fully intend to post the Starrywood thing as one thing (lol), for myself at least, because it is one day. But I was also going to break it up to be more palatable and manageable to anyone who's not me and maybe pop those sliced up posts on my backup Wordpress or something or maybe even...LJ (yikes!) Not tumblr, that's just too much work. I see they've raised the pic limit and all but tumblr is for montages and minisodes only. However, R.E.S.P.E.C.T. is not as big as all that. Though it is more immediately significant to the story as told thus far and there's the crux of my indecision...

So...there are 3-5 major scenes, depending on whether I tally by length or significance. I expected it to be a three act deal. Like, the first covers three days, the next about three weeks, and the last about three months. Conceptually, I like that. Textually, I like that. But the party scene pictures might give me the same amount of trouble as Day at the Lands'. And I just don't want to subdivide any more than that. It would obviously make things easier, but less...I don't know, I've lost my word, but anyway, just don't wanna do it.

Since it can be it's own thing and it's all written and my personal 'let's see if we can actually still do this' deadline has already come and gone, I've been hemming and hawing about just posting it by itself. A peek into the past rather than a full-on gaze backward. It's a familiar cast, it's fun as hell (I think), and it's long as a thoroughgoing slice of Land life but not plot revealing, so...maybe? It's Day Two in that Act One setup (Day One, basically, is the plot. So, no on that one though it's also ready to go.) But it is the anchor scene and if I throw it out there now what's the point of anyone reading it again, in full, in situ, in context?

(Oh, here's where I should probably say that in reality, two or three readers max, but I still think in terms of ideal reader and ideal presentation. Otherwise what's the point? It's a sim story, yes, and I give myself great latitude with that, but if there's someone out there who actually likes it I want to give them the real story, not a compromise. Also, while I am not my ideal reader, no, I am my primary reader, so I myself actually want the story itself and not an approximation. And then, as a general rule, I like to present a layered story that can be approached and appreciated at whatever level any given reader engages. At the level of having zero background knowledge or interest in following along and still having a laugh if you stumble across it. At the level of catching some or most or all of the little details and callbacks and suspected foreshadowing and feeling fully immersed in this little bit of nonsense that we're all playing with. At the level of actually reading this post and knowing wtf I'm on about, lol.)

If I excerpt it out, I probably would remove most of the fun stuff and just do a tumblr montage and...that is not the task I set for myself. Finish and post a chapter of Something. That is the task.

As I'm going along, however, I keep remembering why I set it aside. I said it didn't matter because there is no such thing as 'here' anymore after such a long absence...but it really does not go here. In the timeline such as it is. So I thought, well, if I (finally) unlock the Contrajocques chapters that's enough context. Will eliminate any need to revisit the Garden Party chapter because it covers the same ground, enough to lay out the parallels to the party scene from Act Two that I mentioned. Along with some other things. And if I pace them out a bit it'd give me enough time to link the pics and post Act One, prune Act Two, and maybe write a damn ending and finish shooting Act Three. (Or maybe not.) (And actually much of the hold up there is that I'm 95-99% sure I did sketch out an ending and I can't find it!)

But then I reread the Contrajocques chapters and the reason they weren't posted is because too much is revealed that the Desiderata minisodes were meant to set up. Most of those are ready to go. In drafts here on tumblr so I thought, eh, go ahead. Buy even more time! But the reason they're not posted is because the whole For Always Roaming detour is actually connected in a weird way. Can be overlooked and sidelined to get on with it, but to do so kind of invalidates that whole side story. What's the incentive to get back to it then and where on earth would I randomly stick it? (Also, there's not a Hart to be found in R.E.S.P.E.C.T. They're not in Widespot yet and, frankly, Val got his own freakin' spinoff show, so as he/we said, it was time to get the hell off the stage. For a bit.) And what's the hold up with all of this...yup, of course, it's the Starrywood saga. That nobody asked for and is tangential to the BaCC at best, but it lays some foundations that will be built on in that still open round of the BaCC and beyond. And it's just too big for me to take on right now. Ugh.

So I keep ending up back where I started. Finish and post the thing you said you were going to post and silently stick it where it really goes when you and the story finally catch up to it. And ignore the fact that some of the callbacks are to things that have not yet been shown.

...I guess.

[quarantineddreamer]

As a Shadow | Chapter 2 - (Not) alone

Here goes nothing ahhhh -Chapter 2! (Click title for AO3, or read below)

Chirrut is in a wheelchair that Baze pushes and leans on in equal terms. Both have cuts and bruises littered across their bodies and Jyn can tell they are in no small amount of pain, but they still give gentle smiles when they arrive at Cassian’s bedside.

Even though she doesn’t need to, Jyn gets up from her chair so that Baze can use it. As he collapses into his seat their arms brush, but it is clear he does not register her touch–and just another thing she cannot feel.

Cassian’s injured back will not allow him to roll onto his side, but Jyn can tell he’s desperate to turn away from their friends from the moment they arrive. He does everything he can to avoid their eyes, his mask back in place, an extra sullen quality added to it.

“She saved your life, you know,” Baze says quietly.

Cassian’s lips press into a fine line. He’s glaring daggers at the ceiling and it’s clear he doesn’t want to hear any of this.  

“You think you’re unhappy to be here? Try being invisible to everyone,” Jyn grumbles.

Baze gives a heavy sigh. “Melshi said you might be like this.”

“She shouldn’t have done it,” Cassian replies by way of explanation.

Jyn wants to shake him. “Stop that. What I did was not a mistake. I was the reason you were there in the first place– you really thought I’d let you die because of me? Is that the kind of person you think I am?”  

Chirrut makes a disappointed, humming sound. “I don’t think she would agree with that.”

“Thank you!”

Cassian gives a bitter laugh. “Of course not, she never agreed with anything I said.”

“You liked that about her,” Baze comments.

“I did,” Cassian admits quietly and for a moment there is silence between them. “She had a way of getting under your skin, didn’t she?”

“She did,” Baze agrees.

“She should be here,” Cassian says, soft and fierce, with eyes that Jyn fears are close to shedding tears.    

“She is one with the Force, and the Force is with all of us, so she is here,” Chirrut says matter of factly.

“Sure. Something like that,” Jyn mutters. And it’s not that he’s wrong, but she does wonder what Chirrut would think of her current situation, if he would be so keen to trust in the mysteries of the Force if he knew the kind of anguish it was putting her through.

She tries to read Cassian’s face, to determine if he is finding any comfort in the monk’s word, and though his expression remains impassive, she senses that he is about as satisfied with the notion as she is.

Chirrut tries a new approach, “Baze tells me they emptied your pockets before bringing you into surgery and that they found something of hers?”

Cassian tenses and Jyn gets the feeling he’d by flying out of bed right now if his body would only let him. “Scarif… she shoved something into my pocket on the beach. Where is it? Where’d they put it?” he asks, uncharacteristically frantic.

“Don’t worry,” Baze grunts as he reaches for the drawer of the table at Cassian’s bedside. His hand emerges holding a worn cord, a familiar translucent stone dangling from the end of it. “I made sure they put it in a safe place.”

Baze places the kyber in Cassian’s outstretched palm and something in Jyn seems to anchor there alongside it. My necklace…

He stares at it for a moment, runs gentle fingers over its edges with a tenderness that seems to echo on Jyn’s cheek. When he ties the cord around his neck, the kyber falls into place against his chest.

And Jyn’s body begins to pulse with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, as though it were her own.

For the next several days, Cassian mostly sleeps, still heavily medicated and his body still very much in need of the extra rest.

Jyn, on the other hand, quickly learns that the phrase ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’ is a fallacy. The first few times the lights of the infirmary dim, she goes through the motions of settling in a comfortable position, shutting her eyes, but she can’t even bring herself to pretend she’s tired. Her supply of energy is seemingly endless.

She spends the quiet, lonely hours trying to figure out why she is here; even–for one brief, self-conscious moment–tries talking to the Force, ‘So, uh, my mother said you called?’ But it’s useless. If there’s a message to be found it’s an incredibly cryptic one, either that, or the Force is answering much too quietly.

Occasionally she gets up and wanders, never straying farther than the corners of the room, always gravitating back to Cassian’s side. Normally, she would grow bored of this inside of an hour, but death seems to have granted her more patience, and there are plenty of things to occupy her thoughts, to distract her.

The Captain has a steady stream of visitors that she is eager to see. Bodhi, Melshi, Baze and Chirrut cycle through regularly to check on him. Even Mon Mothma and Draven come to speak with him and provide him with updates on the rebellion’s activities since Scarif.

Jyn is thrilled to hear the Death Star plans made it off Scarif, distraught to learn that they go missing when a Princess Leia is captured. Her heart breaks anew when the news of Alderaan reaches the medical wing–she and Cassian spend the day in still and quiet, and she can’t help but ponder the futility of their mission on Scarif. Had their sacrifice been for nothing after all?

But there is overwhelming relief when the plans find their way back to the Rebellion courtesy of the Alliance’s newest recruits, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. The day they hear about the attack planned on the Death Star, Cassian fights with the medical staff and all of his friends, cursing in frustration and insisting that he is well enough to fly a ship. ‘It’s not like I need to walk –just wheel me onto Rogue One!’ (Nevermind that he’s still recovering the strength to sit upright unsupported for more than a few minutes at a time.)

It’s a bittersweet sight to witness. Bitter, because he is upset about being bedridden and unable to finish what they started on Scarif. Sweet, because Jyn takes his fierce arguing as an encouraging sign.

It’s the liveliest he’s been in weeks.

He’s not eating much. Whether from all the meds they have him on or because he’s depressed Jyn isn’t sure. There’s a good chance it’s both. He picks at his food with little interest, consuming just enough for the infirmary staff to leave him alone. When Bodhi comes by, it’s mostly Bodhi who does the talking, and it’s the same with the others–though maybe he offers Melshi a few more words than the rest.

Sometimes they try to talk about her. Cassian always shuts it down, finds an excuse, steers the conversation towards anything else–even the loss of Kay is a more tolerable topic . Maybe it would lead anyone else to think he doesn’t care that she’s gone. But she knows better. He avoids any mention of her because he cares too much, and he blames himself.

Alone, he spends time staring at the kyber crystal. There’s a desperation to his gaze that she grows to resent. She wants to tell him to let go; she’s not worth all this pain–he shouldn’t feel responsible, it was her choice what she did, and she’d do it again…

And sometimes she does tell him .

But he never hears.

No matter how badly she wants to, she can’t help him now.

Members of the med-core team begin introducing physical therapy exercises to him as soon as possible, hoping for him to regain more of his mobility with time and practice. This, Cassian seems to pour every ounce of his energy into.

She sees the fire in his eyes as he pushes himself to his limits–and then some.

She doesn’t like this either. It worries her. He’s not doing it out of some eagerness to get better, he is punishing himself–she knows it. And if he is cleared to go back in the field, it won’t be the end of it, only the beginning.

Cassian will turn his guilt into a life-long sentence of pain.

What he doesn’t realize, can’t realize, is that she will suffer the same, serving right beside him in misery.  

During the evacuation of Yavin 4, Cassian is amongst the first rebels to leave–along with the others under medical care.

He is wheeled out of the infirmary and onto a waiting ship, and Jyn follows, her body alight with the new energy she finds herself a part of.

Compared to the sleepy calm of the room Cassian has been residing in, it feels like she has made the jump into hyperspace. So many people, and the open space all around them, and the breeze drifting into the hangar from across the jungle. So much life. She tracks Cassian’s movements more automatically than anything else, because she can barely focus, her attention pulled in a thousand different directions at once.

The feeling diminishes once they board the ship and are contained within its walls, only to transform again when they break atmo and enter the cold expanse of the galaxy.

There, she feels like she is living up to the affectionate name her father once bestowed upon her.

She is stardust, swirling, brilliant, multitudes.

On Hoth, Cassian finally gets permission to leave the full-time care of the med-core team and retire to his own room. He’s still tied to base, performing desk duties until he is cleared for action, but Jyn can tell it is a relief for him to know he will be able to have some solitude–there are days she has caught him pretending to be asleep so that no one will approach him.

Melshi has been holding onto his friend’s few belongings and brings them to Cassian. An entire room’s worth of personal effects are packed neatly into a small duffle. It’s a sight Jyn understands well. Her life had always been one easily moved from place to place. The bag is probably full of clothes, maybe a blaster or two. But she wonders if—hidden amongst the folds of the bag–there might also be a token of the past that he keeps with him, as she once did her mother’s necklace.

She never did get to see Cassian’s room on Yavin 4–if he even had one of his own–and so she finds herself curious to see the type of quarters the man keeps. She pictures something spotless with neatly folded clothes, but her imagination doesn’t stretch much further than that, perhaps because she can’t see Cassian settling in one place for too long any more than she could imagine herself doing so.

They enter the room and he throws his bag onto the floor of the small, poorly lit space as the door hisses shut behind them. Against one wall is a narrow bed, against another there is a simple desk. Cassian stands in the middle, expression as inscrutable as ever.

“It’s not so bad,” Jyn says, leaning her hip against the desk. At least, she’s certainly seen worse. “But you have to promise you won’t spend all your time in the dark moping or I’m going to tell med-core they let you go too soon.” An empty threat, of course, but it feels good to say anyways.

Cassian gingerly sits on the bed–she’s noticed his back still has trouble with movements like that–and sighs heavily, his breath fogging the air in front of him in a way that fascinates her, a startling symbol of just how alive he is .

Fingers tangle in hair that has grown longer during his time in med-core care, as he places his head in his hands, hiding his face from view.

“Is this you moping?” Jyn asks teasingly, the same way she would if he could hear her. “Isn’t that exactly what I just said not to do?”

When a moment later he still hasn’t moved, she lets out a sigh of her own–a habit she cannot seem to let go of despite it being entirely unproductive in her current state. “Cass, why don’t you go for a walk or something? Throw a snowball at Melshi or Bodhi for me.”

In the silence of the empty room his jagged breaths echo against the frigid walls. His shoulders start to tremble.

She realizes it is the first time since the news of her death that he hasn’t been under the concerned stare of a friend or medical staff. And because it’s Cassian, it means he’s waited all this time to grant himself permission to feel.

Even now she can sense he does it reluctantly, fights it, like somehow he doesn’t deserve a moment to be vulnerable, to be human.

He looks so lost…so alone, and Jyn thinks she’s never wanted anything more in the world than to be able to tell him he’s not.

She takes a tentative step closer to him. But it’s not enough to simply be close, and she knows it’s never going to be. Not when what she truly wants is to be with him.

Aware of the impossibility of this desire, she settles for lowering herself to the bed to sit beside him. “I’m sorry, Cassian… I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.” She didn’t think she could hurt anyone like this.

She tries to imagine herself in his position. The guilt she would feel would choke her. And she would miss him. Force, she would miss him–it’s a shock to realize just how much.  

There was no logical explanation for it, but from the moment Cassian Andor had walked into her life she’d felt pulled to him, felt seen by him. (The bitter irony of that notion is not lost on her now). He’d understood her like no one else ever had, and she him. Sometimes that knowing was a pain, like when they’d clashed on Eadu. But there had also been a sense it could become something wonderful if there had been the time. There had been the briefest of glimpses of it, in the elevator on Scarif, a question in his eyes that she’d never gotten the chance to answer before…

It had all been stolen from them. All the endless possibilities that might have been, snuffed out before they could even truly begin to unfold. She supposes she should just be grateful for the time they did have; for the incredible fortune they had in getting to know each other at all, no matter how briefly.

Jyn tentatively moves to rest her head on Cassian’s shoulder, gradually settling her weight against him. His hair tickles her cheek. He smells good, like he has been sitting somewhere green and sunlit, and he is warm, and…

Realization dawns, sharp and sudden–a spark catching on kindling.

He is warm.

Her body thrums with the dizzy rhythm of a racing heart as she slowly reaches up to lightly run one of her fingers along the side of his face, a heady sensation rushing through her–the heart stuttering.

His beard is scratchy. She knows it is.

I can feel him!

Cassian springs to his feet–moving with a speed she has not seen from him since before his injuries on Scarif–and turns to look back at the bed.

“Cassian?” Jyn asks hopefully, fighting to temper her foolish desire to pull him back–though admittedly she’s not even sure she could if she tried.

He’s staring at the bed intently, not fearfully, and she wants to take that as a good sign, but he won’t meet her eyes.

“Still can’t see me, can you?”

He shakes his head roughly and lets loose a long, somewhat unsteady breath. This time the mist that curls from his mouth is not something to wonder at. It is a slap to the face, a stark reminder of the divide between her world and his.

She watches as he begins to unpack his few belongings.

She’s fed up with watching.

For one brief, incredible moment she had done more, been more, and now all she feels is the bitter ache of disappointment threatening to overwhelm her.

She tries her best to fight it, to hold onto the memory of his touch against her skin, to hold onto the way he had looked at her on Scarif even as the world crumbled around them…

[ihavenothingtodo10220]

Hiya! I hope I'm doing this right since I've never interacted on tumblr before 😭 I'd like a compatibility reading, including NSFW, with Hyunjin from Stray Kids 😊 (very predictable based on my username lol) I just turned 20, so don't worry about me being a minor. I'm quite experienced in astrology so I have done the compatibility myself, but I would love to get an opinion from someone else 🙂 Hope I provided enough information with my planets and houses. Thank you in advance! ❤

Sorry it took me so long to get to this! I've been busy and this long ass queue has been daunting, but now that i've worked out a better system for these readings I got this.

Astrological Placements

Sun

The sign you use for your daily horoscope represents your identity. That sign is your sun sign. If sun signs are compatible, there’s a positive energy surrounding the relationship. Your vibes flow as one, and you’re naturally attracted to each other’s personalities, making you a perfect match. So that's what we'll be starting with.

So, right off the bat, we have a Pisces Sun + Capricorn Sun.

Capricorn is very grounded, and almost immovable in a way. Like the mountains the ram that represents them live in. Very conservative and sensible. Pisces, however, is very unrestricted, quick, and always trying new things. Like a fish in the vastness of the ocean, always darting off in different directions and exploring new seas.

Capricorn is ruled by Jupiter, the planet of retribution. and difficulty. Capricorns are anchored, hardworking, and very very trustworthy. But Pisces is ruled by Uranus and Saturn. Saturn specifically rules ambition, intellect, and boundaries. Because of this Pisces is very independent and unique, and generally brilliant.

If you talk things through and voice your emotions when things are rough for you, it could probably work. But you'll both keep your emotions to yourselves, which can cause a lot of friction. You also will both hate to share your fears and weaknesses with one another and will generally walk on eggshells around one another emotionally, with both of you constantly dancing around your feelings.

But if you can get through this, your relationship can go well. You both expect devotion and can help each other with your goals. Affection, devotion, and confidence will come easily to you.

Moon

The moon governs your inner needs and desires. What you hope to achieve in a relationship emotionally and long-term can be found by looking at the characteristics of your moon sign. If you share the same moon sign as your partner, you're soulmates basically. I'm about to get poetic here.

So...How do I put this gently? Virgo Moon + Sagittarius Moon is a match made in the boxing ring.

Hyunjin, with his Virgo moon, is like the earth. Nurturing the crops, giving life to them, even. So soft, and constant, and nurturing. And then there's you! You, my friend, are like a wildfire. Burning everything. EVERYTHING. Causing destruction to everything including Hyunjin's crops he nurtured for so long, and cared for so dutifully. Hyunjin gets the worst of it, but you also suffer too. The fire damages the crops, and the earth stops the fire from spreading.

You both need to be right. You'll argue, and argue, and if somehow you make it to marriage, guess what you'll do? Argue, my friend! You both want to be right, no...You both REQUIRE being right to function. You'll both truly believe you're right too. And you're both very...Uhm...How do I put this? Verbally gifted. That's a word. You'll both say stuff that's meant to hurt and will be scarily effective in terms of hurting. You're armed and dangerous. What is the weapon, you may ask? That fucking tongue.

You need to be free. Hyunjin needs things to be perfect. Hyunjin will need reassurance that you'll stick around and stability, but you can't do that. You're kind of like...A gold digger! That's a horrible analogy, actually. You're like that rabbit in my yard. If the conditions are right? You'll stay, and you'll thrive. But if I approach let alone try and grab you and make you stay? You'll run away, and never come back. And all you'll leave behind is chewed grass. You're like a wild horse. Hyunjin pulls and pulls and tries so hard to break you in but you keep bucking and bucking and fighting, because you're wild at the end of the day, and can't be the stable companion Hyunjin needs and thinks he can make you into. So you know what he'll do? He'll stop trying. He'll let you run free, as wild as you've always been.

If this ever does get to a wedding, it will be because you were dragged to the altar, tied up in a nice and cozy straight jacket. And guess who's waiting for you at that altar? Hyunjin, in a nice and pretty matching straight jacket. Neither one of you really wants the other, you see each other as fundamentally flawed.

See...Growing old together? Probably never going to happen. Either Hyunjin will kick you out or chase you away, or you'll go out to get milk and disappear off the face of the earth. Either or. Either way, Hyunjin is changing those damn locks before he's even sure if you disappeared or not.

Hyunjin needs everything to be perfect, clean, and orderly. You couldn't give less of a fuck. Hyunjin budgets so nicely, so carefully, and so thoroughly. You couldn't give less of a fuck about some budget. Do you need to try new things? Break from HIS routine? Go on a walk without checking in with HIS schedule? Hyunjin doesn't give a fuck. You better not. You need something without structure, Hyunjin needs something that doesn't just HAVE structure, but IS structure.

You don't want Hyunjin's structured, rigid, scheduled, perfectionist love and lifestyle. You feel like you're missing out, and life and all it has to offer is slipping through your fingers. And Hyunjin? He thrives on those things. He doesn't want the chaos you bring, purposeful or not. Hyunjin grows old because he takes care of himself. You grow old out of sheer luck and probably some protagonist buff. But together? You wouldn't strangle each other. You would simply walk away and never look back. And maybe, just maybe...That's what's best.

Now you may be asking..."But Moon, what about the sex? Is the sex good?" Well...How do I put this? Uhm...If you didn't think it could get worse it just got worse.

Hyunjin thinks of sex as a way to finally let loose in a very controlled environment. You want sex because it's all friendly, sporty, and active! And because you like orgasms! You have no patience for the foreplay Hyunjin thrives off of. The long and tender yet sensual kisses, the lingering touches and soft gasps that Hyunjin could spend hours on alone. The getting ready for the act itself. His goal isn't an orgasm. But that's the only thing for you. You can't turn him on the way he wants to be with foreplay, you don't shower before the sex or have sweet pillow talk. Hyunjin feels like he got landed with someone paid to do this. Impersonal, someone who just wants to skip through the intimacy to the climax and get done with it as quickly as possible. After a while, he starts to lay down the rules, which if not obeyed, means no sex. This usually results in bed death for the relationship. And blue balls.

So...I'm a blunt as fuck realistic pessimist who usually gives zero fucks, but I'm also the therapist and even I feel bad now. This did you so dirty. So how do you make it work? This is a really tough one to fix. These two Moon are really fucking incompatible and you need to change...Pretty much your entire being to make it work. It may be best if you don't try to make it a permanent relationship. You need to be free to come and go, and Hyunjin needs to be free to have a life without chaos. If you're not married, and not attached at the hip, this solves the major problem. However, if you do wish to marry or be together for the long haul, you might want to simply live in different homes, or live next door to each other. Or MAYBE, one of you can get a nice little space in that separate mini house. I think it's the mother-in-law suite? That's not the point though. If you can give each other the physical space you need to live as you please, you can focus on the things that brought you together in the first place… whatever those things are. I dunno.

So, yeah! Thoughts and prayers that the other aspects will be...Redeemable!

Venus + Mars

Overlapping planetary alignments could mean you’re meant to be together. Venus is the Goddess of Love, whereas Mars is the God of War. Together, these planets represent the battle of love and relationships. Notice what houses these planets rest in on your charts. If your Venus is in the house where your partner’s Mars is (or vice versa), this could mean you’re star-crossed lovers.

So now, we have Aquarius Venus + Pisces Venus! You're both dreamers, but you'll definitely provide him with more clarity. He brings out your tender side, but only if you avoid a power dynamic that's out of whack. 

And then there's Aries Mars + Aries Mars! The double Mars in Aries combination makes for most definitely a sexy life, and the two of you go gang-busters in the bedroom with barely time for breath or...Anything else, really. Between hectic sex sessions. Watch you don’t wear each other out. Things can get pretty competitive too... just remember making love is not a race and there’s no prize for coming first! Except perhaps a child! (That was a pun) definitely some of the roughest, kinkiest shit ever. I'm talking head banging into the headboard, the headboard banging into the wall type shit. So like...Sounds kinda violent, not gonna lie. But to each their own, I dunno. Sounds hot in kinda an unrealistic way, but it's just not my cup of tea. Though...The roughness I wouldn't mind, actually, now that I'm really thinking about it. But I'm getting sidetracked.

And now, the million-dollar matchup! The make-or-break question for Mars + Venus compatibility! Aquarius Venus + Aries Mars! Both of you are highly independent and bent on doing their own thing. But is this a case of too much freedom for a committed relationship to be formed? That may or may not have been rhetorical, we may never know. You are like an outsider in your own relationships. You can be a loyal partner, but you're most comfortable expressing your love with friendly detachment. You can be very understanding of your partner’s emotional needs and are not phased by demands. Traditional relationships are not your thing, you need room to express your quirky energy and a partner who understands this. Hyunjin must also accept that there will always be a part of you that he cannot touch. Hyunjin brings the heart of a warrior to his relationships. Full-on passion and excitement are what he has to offer. However, he has no use for romance or niceties. Blunt and impatient, he can be childish when he wants something (or someone). A creature of instinct, he will charge ahead without thinking when he finds someone he is attracted to. The chase is what turns him on, and he’ll quickly get bored if he’s not challenged (but if he’s left hanging too long he’ll move on to the next prospect) Hyunjin will be captivated by your cool, edgy glamor, and you'll be intrigued by his boldness. Things will heat up quickly between you two as you enjoy an adventurous, impulsive affair. Each will appreciate the others’ need for space, and it’s doubtful that you'll sit still long enough for boredom to set in. But this could contribute to the relationship’s lack of stability. You can be ferociously stubborn about doing your own thing, and Hyunjin will just do what he wants without asking. He may get frustrated with what he perceives as your lack of response to his passionate demands. Both will be so focused on their respective liberties that a long-term bond may never develop. Without some grounding influences in your charts, this relationship could burn out quickly.

Lunar Nodes

These points can tell you if your paths were meant to cross. Lunar nodes are not signs but are points showing the moon’s orbit. There are two nodes—southern and northern—represented on your birth chart by an axis. The south node portrays your past. The north node predicts your future.

Hyunjin: Leo South Node + Aquarius North Node, You: Taurus South Node + Scorpio North Node

When it comes to compatibility, you may face certain challenges due to their differing energetic imprints. The Leo South Node represents a past life focus on self-expression, leadership, and seeking attention, while the Taurus South Node signifies a past life emphasis on stability, practicality, and material comfort.

In terms of communication, clashes may arise as Hyunjin tends to be more assertive and expressive, craving the limelight and recognition. On the other hand, you value a harmonious and peaceful environment, preferring stability over constant attention.

Additionally, your approaches to emotional expression and affection may differ significantly. Hyunjin thrives on passion, drama, and grand gestures, whereas you seek security, loyalty, and a steady emotional foundation.

When it comes to long-term goals and values, conflicts may arise as well. Hyunjin may have a strong desire for personal achievement and recognition, often pursuing ambitious endeavors. Meanwhile, you value financial security, comfort, and a slower-paced, stable lifestyle.

Hyunjin carries a soul mission to embrace uniqueness, independence, and a visionary perspective. They are driven by a desire to revolutionize society, challenge traditional norms, and bring forth innovative ideas. On the other hand, you are on a path of transformation, seeking deep emotional connections, and delving into the mysteries of life.

You two possess distinct energies, which can create both intrigue and conflict within your relationship. Communication may present challenges, as Hyunjin tends to focus on intellectual discussions and detached reasoning. He thrives in group settings, seeking intellectual stimulation and unconventional ideas. Meanwhile, you crave deep emotional connections and intimacy, often preferring intense one-on-one conversations.

Emotional expression may become a point of contention as well. Hyunjin tends to approach emotions from a rational and detached standpoint, sometimes struggling to connect on a deep emotional level. In contrast, you are passionate, and intense, and seek profound emotional experiences.

Their long-term goals and values may also differ significantly. Hyunjin is driven by a desire for social change, often placing importance on humanitarian causes and intellectual pursuits. Meanwhile, you value personal transformation, depth, and the exploration of much deeper things.

When it comes to compatibility, you (say it with me) may face challenges due to your divergent energetic imprints. Again the Aquarius North Node represents a soul mission focused on embracing individuality, intellectual pursuits, and societal change. In contrast, the Taurus South Node signifies a past life emphasis on stability, practicality, and material comfort.

Communication may present hurdles in your relationship. Hyunjin thrives on intellectual stimulation, innovative ideas, and freedom of expression. He is drawn to group dynamics and progressive discussions. On the other hand, you value stability, tradition, and practicality. You may prefer a slower pace and find comfort in routine.

Emotional expression could also be a point of contention. Hyunjin tends to approach emotions from a logical and detached perspective, sometimes struggling to connect on a deep emotional level. In contrast, you value security, loyalty, and tangible expressions of love and affection.

Long-term goals and values may (say it with me) diverge significantly. Hyunjin is driven by a desire for social change, embracing unconventional ideas, and challenging the status quo. They prioritize intellectual pursuits and humanitarian causes. Conversely, you value financial stability, comfort, and a slower-paced, grounded lifestyle centered around the material world.

Communication may present challenges within your relationship. Hyunjin is (say it with me) inclined towards self-expression and seeking attention, often craving the spotlight. He possesses a charismatic and dramatic flair, relishing in the limelight. Conversely, you value depth, authenticity, and emotional connection in their interactions. You may prefer one-on-one conversations.

Power dynamics could become a point of contention as well. Hyunjin naturally exudes a regal and confident aura, often desiring control and admiration. He thrives on being the center of attention. In contrast, you seek a profound emotional connection and may be wary of power struggles or superficial displays of dominance.

Long-term goals and values may also (say it with me) differ significantly. You yearn for recognition, validation, and a sense of personal significance. You often prioritize personal ambitions and the pursuit of your passions. You value personal transformation, and emotional depth, and may be drawn to spiritual or metaphysical pursuits.

Overview

So, I like you! And I really feel bad about this reading but I also wanna be honest about what i've found from this. So, here's a brief overview of everything we covered:

Sun sign represents identity and can influence a relationship.

Pisces Sun + Capricorn Sun is a perfect match.

Capricorn is grounded, conservative, and sensible, while Pisces is unrestricted, quick, and adventurous.

Capricorn is ruled by Jupiter, retribution, and difficulty, while Pisces is ruled by Uranus and Saturn, ambition, intellect, and boundaries.

Pisces is independent, unique, and generally brilliant.

Both partners may keep emotions to themselves, causing friction.

They may avoid sharing fears and weaknesses, leading to emotional turmoil.

Despite potential friction, the relationship can go well if they can communicate and work towards goals.

Hyunjin's Virgo moon symbolizes the earth, nurturing and giving life to crops.

You symbolize the wildfire, causing harm and destruction.

Both parties need to be right to function, and both believe they are right.

Both parties are verbally gifted, causing harm and fear.

They both desire freedom and stability, but Hyunjin needs reassurance and stability.

Hyunjin's desire for perfectness and order is not met by you.

Hyunjin's strict budgeting and strict routines are not met by you.

Hyunjin's perfectionist lifestyle is not desired by you.

Hyunjin thrives on these aspects, while you thrive on chaos.

Together, they would not strangle each other but would walk away and never look back.

You and Hyunjin are in a volatile relationship, with Hyunjin attempting to break you in.

You see Hyunjin as flawed and wants to be free, while Hyunjin sees them as someone he can make into a stable companion.

You and Hyunjin have a strong possibility of either a fight or a disappearance.

Hyunjin values perfection and cleanliness, while you prefer a more relaxed lifestyle.

You feel like you are missing out on life and the opportunities it offers, while Hyunjin thrives on these aspects.

You and Hyunjin's relationship is strained, with Hyunjin viewing sex as a controlled environment for letting loose.

You are not patient with Hyunjin's foreplay, showering before sex, or having sweet pillow talk.

Hyunjin starts to set rules for sex, which if not followed, can lead to bedtime issues and a strained relationship.

The relationship between you and Hyunjin is incompatible and requires significant changes.

Avoiding a permanent relationship is recommended for both parties.

For non-married individuals, living separately or next door can solve the major issue.

If marriage is desired, consider living in separate homes or a separate mini house.

Providing physical space allows for focus on the things that brought them together.

The hope is that the other aspects will be redeemable. (They're not)

Aquarius Venus + Pisces Venus: Both dreamers, providing clarity and bringing out tender side.

Aries Mars + Aries Mars: Both are highly independent and comfortable expressing love with friendly detachment.

Aquarius Venus + Aries Mars: Both are highly independent and impulsive, but may not be in a committed relationship.

Hyunjin brings passion and excitement, but is impatient and childish.

Things will heat up quickly as they enjoy an adventurous, impulsive affair.

However, this could contribute to the relationship's lack of stability.

Hyunjin may get frustrated with your lack of response to his passionate demands.

Without grounding influences in your charts, the relationship could burn out quickly. (There are some but they just bring more problems. So.)

Leo South Node: Represents past life focus on self-expression, leadership, and attention.

Taurus South Node: Depicts past life emphasis on stability, practicality, and material comfort.

Communication: Hyunjin's assertiveness and desire for recognition may lead to conflicts.

Emotional expression: Hyunjin values passion, drama, and grand gestures, while you value security, loyalty, and a steady emotional foundation.

Long-term goals and values: Hyunjin may desire personal achievement and recognition, while you value financial security, comfort, and a slower-paced lifestyle.

Soul mission: Hyunjin embodies uniqueness, independence, and a visionary perspective, driven by a desire to revolutionize society.

Compatibility: Challenges due to divergent energetic imprints.

Long-term goals and values: Hyunjin prioritizes social change, while you value personal transformation and deeper exploration.

Communication: Hyunjin's focus on intellectual stimulation and group dynamics may present communication challenges.

Power dynamics: Hyunjin's charismatic and dramatic flair may be a point of contention, while your desire for depth and emotional connection may be a concern.

So...Essentially, the two of you aren't very compatible. HOWEVER! I think you may be able to work through it with A LOT of couple's therapy, and separate living arrangements. Maybe. I believe in you!

[thedupshadove]

M*A*S*H/October Daye Crossover

And by "Crossover", I don't mean "The two sets of characters interacting with each other" (although I suppose, thanks to extended lifespans, that's also possible), but rather, "What if we infuse M*A*S*H with the worldbuilding and lore of the October Daye novels? Who should have what kind of lineage?" (I figure none of them are Purebloods, because as far as I can tell, Purebloods don't have to fight in mortal wars if they don't want to, and it's been a very long time since any of them wanted to. Whereas Changelings are sufficiently connected to Mortal society to need to worry about things like draft boards.)

Hawkeye: Ellyllon Changeling. "Healers and hedonists who enjoy pain and pleasure in equal measure" Yeah, that's him. His mother's supposed "Death" was actually her running off in order to spare him from the Choice, so he has no idea what he is or that Faerie exists. Magic Signature: Gin and Cranberries (will have shifted to Gin and Blood by the end of the war)

Trapper: 1/4 Satyr, 1/8 Gean-Cannah, 5/8 Human. I figure 1/8 is a small enough percentage that he'll have a muted form of the Gean-Cannah allure, but won't have the day-to-night sex-shifting. Magic Signature: Hickory Smoke and Mustard Powder.

Frank: Fetch Changeling, which would be possible as long as it was a Fetch in the form of a man, who found the time to impregnate a married woman and didn't have to carry the baby to term before the doomed person they were anchored to died and took them with him. It would explain why he's the worst Doctor in the camp (born from a literal death omen), why even people who agree with him usually don't like him (death omens seem like they wouldn't be the type to make friends and influence people--May is probably the exception), and his tendencies toward conformity and social jockeying (all Fetches used to be Night Haunts, and we know the Night Haunts have a tight-knit pack structure that picks their leaders through challenge, combat, and continually-reinforced submission. No wonder he can't stand Henry, the Least Leader-y Leader ever to hold military rank.) Magic Signature: Vinegar and Mildew

Margaret: 1/4 Banshee, 1/4 Siren, 1/2 Human. (Am I saying she might be related to the False Queen of the Mists? Well I'm not not saying it...) Magic Signature: Orange Blossoms and Black Pepper

Henry: 1/4 Cù Sìdhe. He's not stupid, he just wants for things to be pleasant and everyone to get along, you guys. Magic Signature: Oak and Suede

Radar: 1/8 Bannick, 1/8 Hob, 1/8 Faun, 1/8 Roane, 1/2 Human. Magic Signature: Sweetcorn and Soil

Mulcahy: Human. I haven't seen much evidence of this in my read-through so far, but I know that some folklore shows Fae Folk being repelled/bound by crosses/prayers/other Catholic symbology, so letting the Catholic Priest stay human was just too good a potential plot to pass up.

Klinger: 1/8 Glastig. Blood strong enough to make him instinctively want to solve his problems with bald-faced blarney, but not strong enough that it actually works. Magic Signature: Rosewater and spiced meat

BJ: Human, but even before getting drafted he was caught in a Fairy story and didn't know it--did somebody say Tylweth Peg? (That explains why deliveries of her cooking are always treated like such an event by the whole camp, and yes, this makes Erin a Changeling. Better hope the Choice doesn't come for her before you get home, BJ.)

Potter: 1/4 Tuatha de Dannan. Unconscious short-range portal-ing must surely have protected him well across the two World Wars. Magic Signature: Cast Iron and Wild Grass

Charles: 1/2 Daoine Sídhe, although it would maybe be more accurate to say that he's 2/4 Daoine Sídhe--his father was a more "typical" Daoine Changeling and so was his mother. Their whole little corner of Boston high society consists of Daoine Changelings who have decided that, as they are cast out and disrespected in the magical halls of their mothers and fathers, they must be content to conquer the Mortal world instead. As such he's maybe the only person in the camp who knows what he is and knows about Faerie. Magic Signature: Maple and Snow

Sidney: 1/4 Adhene. Admittedly I haven't encountered an Adhene up-close in my read-through yet, but I'm hoping that cutting the blood down to 1/4 strength will remove the "violent response to untruth" aspect, and it would be really useful as a psychiatrist to be able to intuitively be like "You're lying. I don't know what the truth is, but I know you didn't just tell it." Magic Signature: Coffee and Honey

[extraordinaryhistories]

#14 – 'Happy Birthday' (A Sun Came, 1998)

Oh! the things that you learn when you start seeking them out. In doing some research in preparation for the entry for ‘Happy Birthday’, at certain times and in certain states of mind my favourite A Sun Came song, I discovered that a sizeable corner of the fanbase thinks ‘Happy Birthday’ is about Jesus. They take Sufjan singing ‘you’re God’s great paramour and sweet’ quite literally, and point to lines like ‘your birthday brings a pardoning’ – a reference to Christ-as-redeemer, his birthday an enduring sign of his sacrifice for our sins – and ‘keep your proverbs short and sweet’ – a reference to, um, Jesus’ proverbs – as evidence. It is a compelling case, and it would be keeping with the grand tradition of Sufjan love songs to God, ones where God is not an inaccessible other but someone very corporeal, and very close to Sufjan. (It would also make ‘Happy Birthday’ a Christmas song.)

It's a fascinating way to think about the song, but honestly, I prefer to read it in a different way. I would prefer there to be no religious connotations to ‘Happy Birthday’. I would prefer if ‘Happy Birthday’ were a song about a person – no baggage, an earthly, real, thoroughly mundane person – who Sufjan wants the world for. I think that would be quite beautiful. Because that would make ‘Happy Birthday’ an incredibly sincere expression of platonic love in an album full of them (c.f. the dedication on ‘Wordsworth’s Ridge (for Fran Fike)’.) No baggage, no imbalance of power, nobody owing, nothing owed. Just Sufjan and his affection for somebody in his life. Would that not be the greatest gift of all?

Part of the effervescent magic of ‘Happy Birthday’ lies in how the instrumental is, well, so effervescent, so magical. The spirit of the song, its countless well-wishes, is captured perfectly in the main motif. Sufjan songs are often very simple in construction – it is what sets him apart from the Elliott Smiths of the folk world – but they are rarely this simple. There are no chord progressions, no key changes, no intricate modal shifts; the song is anchored around a single insistent guitar line, consisting of arpeggio triplets that suggest a G ♭ chord. The song never shifts from that guitar line at any point. It spins on and on and on around that tonal centre, that one chord, perpetually at ease with itself. A sign of musical immaturity, perhaps, but the effect it creates is sublime.

The sense of melody in the instrumentation is created by the first note of each arpeggio, which ascends and descends with every passing beat. It moves up in small steps and then down in small steps, creating this sort of contented, quasi-hymnal melody, the sound of sunny mornings and good tidings. And to be clear, this melody is the song. Sufjan’s vocal line in the verses follows that melody note-for-note, with a slight variation in the chorus – ‘I’m happy, I’m happy...’ – that adds more sunshine still. Again, this is something you would scarcely see him do on later releases. Here it is deployed proudly, and to the song’s eternal benefit, because that melody burrows its way into your head, and it will never leave for as long as this man’s music is in your life. It took me a while to embrace it. Once I did, I found ‘Happy Birthday’ to be exceedingly beautiful.

In this song, Sufjan is wishing somebody a happy birthday. But it goes deeper than that, because the subject of ‘Happy Birthday’ seems to be specific, and somebody that Sufjan knows very well. We know this because despite the clear affection he demonstrates, he will poke fun at the subject, point out their flaws. It is good-natured joshing, but joshing nonetheless. Sufjan invokes the delightful image of a ‘periwig on parakeet’ in describing the subject, which is one of my favourite little lyrical moments on A Sun Came because of its naïve playfulness (a ‘periwig’ being an archaic term for the wig worn by a barrister in traditional legal dress.) There is absolutely no ill will in an image like that; it is the sort of thing that one could imagine an Edwardian mother calling her child, with all its old-fashioned farce. The subject is clearly prone to rumination, and they can be a little silly in doing so. ‘You’re like a bird that will not be’: so much purity in you, so much natural kindness and song, so why squander it all by acting like anything but?

And yet there is empathy here in equal measure. The second chorus brings a change in lyrical motif – the first and the third centre themselves around ‘I’m happy’, the simplest of declarations, but the second centres itself around ‘I’m sorry’, and here Sufjan does acknowledge the hardships that his friend has undergone (and will undergo.) Life can be harsh; life can be anxious; life can be mean. This is what makes ‘Happy Birthday’ so incredibly sweet: Sufjan will poke fun at his friend, because he’s their friend, but he will commiserate with his friend too, because he’s their friend, and any playfulness is only playfulness at the end of the day. This platonic ideal of friendship is explored in a few other (later) songs – ‘Vito’s Ordination Song’ and ‘The Greatest Gift’ come to mind – but rarely with this sort of directness, rarely with this sort of charm.

In this song, Sufjan is wishing somebody a happy birthday. It goes deeper than that, granted, but the stark simplicity cannot be denied. ‘Your birthday brings a pardoning’, he repeats, transparently employing a Christian metaphor to communicate to his friend that his birthday is a reset, a new dawn. As Sufjan might put it, last year’s shit is last year’s shit; there need not be anything vital about it. Sufjan’s direct advice is fittingly simple and fittingly adorable: ‘keep your bed warm, keep your humor, keep your proverbs short and sweet’, the former two reminding his friend to focus on immediate self-care needs, the latter one a return to the playful, featherlight jabs that he shares in the first verse. Sufjan’s friend is the only one who can act on any of this – it is their choice – but Sufjan does everything that he can in this song to give them the necessary drive. It is time to turn a new leaf. God has given you divine providence; go – go and find all that you deserve. 

And I suppose that he is also speaking directly to the listener, if you choose to so interpret it. Birthdays can be emotionally taxing; aging is a bitter pill to swallow, and swallow it we must, though it never gets much easier, does it? ‘Happy Birthday’ thus becomes a rallying cry for the listener in the truest sense of the word. Find in it the drive to go out there and achieve everything your heart could ever desire. Sufjan wants it for you.

‘Happy Birthday’ holds the fascinating distinction of being the only song on A Sun Came that Sufjan has performed live since the year 2004, and in a surprising spread of shows, too – two performances in 2005, one in 2009, one in 2016 on the Carrie & Lowell  tour(!), and one in 2017 for the Tibet House Benefit Concert series(!!). Something about this song’s music and lyrics clearly remains enduring for Sufjan, and it is easy to surmise why. The melody sounds just as natural in 2016 Sufjan’s hushed tones as it does in 1998 Sufjan’s more nasally voice, struggle as he might to reach some of the high notes. And the message, well, the message endures. This is one song where I really am quite glad that Sufjan released it when he did, because I think later Sufjan may have baulked slightly at some of the naïveté in the lyrics. Thankfully, it is irrevocably out there, a gift for all. And if Sufjan ever tours again, catch him on the right night, and you might just see him celebrating another trip ‘round the sun.

There is one final detail about ‘Happy Birthday’ that I always like to point out. In the opening instrumental introduction, before the verse proper hits, you can hear Sufjan very quietly vocalising something into the microphone. It’s entirely indistinguishable – he is whispering, or possibly even just breathing heavily – but it’s there, and to my knowledge nobody else has pointed it out. Like a shadow of a shadow of a shadow of Sufjan, impressed onto a cassette forever.

I get chills every time I hear that sound. The sound is so faint that it cannot really be heard in a public place, or in a car, or in any setting with background noise. One where there might be people disturbing the communion. It can only be heard by you, in a room, no distractions. Just Sufjan and the listener. To fully experience this song, to hear all of its secrets, you have to be alone. Because ‘Happy Birthday’ is for you. You, and nobody else.

[tanenigiri]

We got a spin-off episode! And "spin-off" is very apt as it's all brand new scenes not found in the manga. As much as I wanted to see the manga's epilogue adapted, the show's had a pretty good track record in terms of adding new scenes and elevating the manga's plot. I'd even say it's one of its greatest strengths, so how does this attempt fare?

Here are some thoughts and ramblings on Our Dining Table's spin-off episode:

I'll start with my favorite part: A new bento box is 500% the best gift Yutaka could've ever thought of to celebrate the anniversary of them meeting up. Sorry to the matching Christmas scarves but this takes the cake. There've been a lot of posts made about how deliberate the choice of items are in this show and I look forward to reading about all of that with this bento box. I also have to mention the utter sweetness of Yutaka wanting to commemorate the date where he first ran into the Ueda brothers - that's definitely the mark of a year of character growth.

Ueda-san continues to be the best dad. Sure, he isn't as prominent here as in the finale, but he continues to read the room so well and know what to do before Yutaka and Minoru even realize it. Love the Minoru teasing at the beginning too - it reminds me of how he was when he was witnessing Minoru's blatant pining. (That tidbit about how Minoru being antsy reminding him of his wife was both really funny and really sweet.)

Glad to know that they've recognized that Tane is the one keeping this whole thing together. (Half-joking but really, how they've made this child not only relevant to the main dynamic but also his very own character is one of my favorite things about this series.)

Ok, I have to be honest: I wasn't feeling the conflict. It's not helped by the fact that the misunderstanding trope is a bit tired for me - one of my favorite things about the manga, actually, was how it generally avoided this and actually made it a point that being open about their issues was a prerequisite to them getting together - but I think my biggest issue with it was how it seemed inconsistent with the characters? Minoru especially, and I haven't been shy with my overall praise for how the show had not only expanded his character but elevated it from the manga because of how well they executed his plot. But him getting jealous over a text he doesn't know the full context of seems a bit much, even if you anchor it to his fear of Yutaka leaving him just like Nao and the rest of his friends did. And even then, that anchor wasn't really brought up, as how he acted over it seemed quite possessive instead of insecure. If anything, the insecurity came from Yutaka, which I do think is consistent with his character, but it's the sentiment I expected from Minoru instead?

I think the closest thing I can compare this to is the bonus Valentine episode of Cherry Magic (spoiler warning if you haven't watched it), where Kurosawa finds a Valentine's gift in Adachi's desk drawer and panics over who could've given it to him. He's seen to be pretty jealous of the mystery admirer and laments over how he's no longer the only one who's noticed Adachi's charm, only to find out that the gift he found was actually Adachi's gift to him. It's a similar misunderstanding situation, but I think what made this one work better for me (aside from how Cherry Magic is a comedy while Our Dining Table's tone is a lot more serious) was how it was very consistent with Kurosawa's character, as he's shown to be quite possessive and easily jealous over Adachi several times throughout the show.

I can't say the same thing for Minoru at all, as while as a boyfriend he definitely has the right to feel jealous over a potential threat to their relationship, this is the same person who, in last week's episode, told Yutaka that if there's anything bothering him, they should talk to each other, especially if it's about their relationship. Why wasn't he following his own advice until the very end of the episode? (The actual answer is to prolong the episode but still.)

I don't know, I feel like they could've executed it a lot better if they wanted to stick with this conflict. The misunderstanding could've come from how they communicated, as I think that would not only be consistent with the takeaway from the previous episode, but it would also be quite realistic as Yutaka has shown to not be the best with words. I'm not saying that how Minoru acted was invalid - he absolutely has the right to feel jealous about a misunderstanding, especially with how rocky his experience with relationships had been - but I think they could've showed this insecurity in a way that didn't make it seem like he was moping over Yutaka having friends who weren't him. (If anything, shouldn't he be happy that Yutaka now has other people he regularly talks to? He was quite literally traumatized from eating with other people.)

(And yes, I absolutely think that if Ohata just showed up and explained everything herself, the episode would've been much better lmao I'm gonna miss her character so much.)

Bit random but the balloons showing "bad day" tripped me up a bit because I was genuinely confused since there's only one 'D' in "Happy Birthday" until I realized that they used the same 'D' balloon for both shots lol.

Sorry if those bullet points were a doozy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on if you agree or disagree. But like I said in my previous post, I'm glad that the show has things that I don't necessarily think highly of, as a 100% perfect show would be quite boring. I may have some gripes with it, but I still enjoyed the spin-off for what it was - and more Our Dining Table content is always welcome.

And honestly, despite these gripes, I'm still gonna rewatch this show so many times and never get sick of it because I think it's such a fantastic adaptation. They absolutely knocked it out of the park with it and I hope that the team gets their hands on other titles. (I would love a Koimonogatari adaptation but I would very much prefer new chapters instead lol.)

[ferociouslycreativemystery]

Yes, all of the above. I never found the term 'self care' captured anything useful for me, because I always needed it the most when I didn't feel particularly caring. Which meant I was always out of ideas.

Instead, I think of it as self regulating. That feels much more practical to me, and therefore more attainable. It allows me to stop and think smaller, just like the guide on that 'you feel like shit' website:

Am I hungry? Maybe I should eat something. Thirsty? I'm gonna have a drink. Am I tired? Maybe it's because I need to sleep, or maybe I need to take a break from my responsibilities. Am I emotial? Maybe I need some time alone, or to talk to someone, or to write it down. Maybe crying would help release some pressure.

Then when you've done it, wait a little while before pausing again to think, "did that shift any part of my discomfort?"

Okay, but that's just the basics of staying alive though. Why should I?

I don't think you're ever going to find that answer by looking out at the world, because it contains both wonder and misery. It's complex, can be confusing, and if you're miserable you're probably going to spot 10 miseries for every 1 wonder.

And I don't think you're going to find it by looking inside, either. Because you are human, a product of the world, and the same rules apply to yourself. It's trite, but there has yet to be a simple or perfect human being.

No, meaning isn't found in either of these things. It is found in the bridges you build between them. Some bridges lead to misery, because there is plenty to go around on both sides of the divide. But if we practice, we will find that we can build bridges of joy, too.

And this is where working on your self regulation helps. Not just indirectly, as in "something to do in the meantime", but as in: self regulating directly works out the muscles you use for creating meaning.

We can break down "learning meaning" into three steps:

What am I feeling?

What can I do to help resolve the feeling?

How did doing that change the feeling?

Of course, there are limits to this. I can't know the true origin of my every feeling, but with practice I can still learn how I can affect my feelings through my actions—even if I don't fully understand them.

Similarly, our actions are often limited by our immediate circumstances. I might not be able to bring my pet to work for emotional support, but I can reassure myself that they'll be sooo happy when I get home tonight, and we'll have lots of cuddles then.

Personally, I think having a long-term, trusted friend would do me a lot of good, but such friendships take a lot of time to develop, and I need to put effort into other, more fundamental things right now. I can still take little steps to socialise more in general, though, to practice my skills and build a foundation for when an opportunity presents itself to take things further. Small steps are great!

This way of thinking has also helped me identify why I like the hobbies I have. I like drawing and painting because it makes me pay attention to the details in the things I love, which makes me appreciate them in ways I never knew before. I like knitting and crocheting because they clearly show me that my work creates progress. (I made those things, that I can hold in my hands! They're soft!) I like editing fan videos and making gifs because re-crafting narratives brings out even more meaning in the story. I love reading and writing because words can really help pin down and make sense of my thoughts and experiences, or prompt me to discover new ones I didn't know I was capable of.

Common to all of these is that it's not just about what I want to achieve, and it's not just about "being productive" and actually achieving something. It's about connecting my needs, feelings and desires with my actions. Meaning is the anchor between my inner world and the outside one.

So what if the result isn't perfect? At least I took a shot at being honest, which was fun, or cathartic, or affirming. And if not, I can try again tomorrow. And the day after that. And then again.

I think that is how you find the meaning of life. It's not a thing—and it's certainly not one thing—it's a process. And the goalposts are many, varied, and always shifting. What matters is taking a shot at finding them here and now, and then to keep shooting for those posts for as long as you have the chance. Because scoring is the best feeling in the world.

Life always can matter, even if it feels distant right now. Asking for help is one great way of connecting yourself to the world! Is there another, small way, you can think of doing that within your reach right now?

I'm very sorry to ask something like this, I've really been struggling with this question, and I wanted to ask the combined wisdom of the people on this site

I would like to know why you keep going, and what drives you to keep living. I know there are a lot of reasons to stay alive and enjoy life, I can think of a few that personally resonate with me, but I really want to know what your reasons are

You do not have to comment on this if that's too big of an ask, and I'm very sorry for asking something like this, I really need someone's help, I feel like I don't have much purpose

Also if I may ask, please don't post any suicidal ideation in the comments of this post, I really can't handle something like that right now