#and this is exactly why I’ve isolated myself from everyone!

[sab-teraa]

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[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[allmightluver]

These photos especially hurt me.

The face he makes when he’s told he isn’t needed anymore. Something he’s known for a long time. He KNOWS he shouldn’t be alive, and that he’s only a burden to everyone now; especially Deku.

The face of heartbreak. Of understanding Deku’s position. He understands more than anyone possibly could. He held the world up by himself for over 40 years. I know how you feel. I know it feels to want to protect everyone, especially those closest to you. And the only way to do so is to leave them behind. Distance and Isolate yourself completely so you can’t get too attached to anyone. Because if you do, and the villains find out, it would feel impossible to live on knowing it was your fault they died. Because you endangered them by just being around them. Loving them. It’s only now, that I’ve allowed myself to live, that I can see how wrong I was to believe that. You shouldn’t have to suffer the same way I did. I can’t let you!

When he falls to the ground, he first lands on his torso. Which feels significant given the mortal wound there, as well how the normal pain in his side has moved to his chest. And even though the pain of having a misshapen, broken body can be extremely debilitating, the pain he now feels is absolutely unbearable.

The bento box. Sure it’s wasted food. But the fact that kills me is how lovingly he made it himself for his boy. Imagine him in their makeshift shelter, which may just be an abandoned building or apartment, carefully using the best ingredients he could find, to make a meal and feed his overworked son. The son he’s more than just a little worried about. It’s all he can think about.

But he busies himself preparing the rice, keeping an eye on the meat to be thoroughly cooked but not burnt, and then cutting it into small strips so his boy can easily grab it with his chopsticks while on the move without having to worry about cutting it himself. Protein. That’s what Deku needs most. And vegetables to keep his strength up. Everything is prepared as perfectly as possible in the short amount of time he has between following Deku to every villain attack.

He already knows the boy isn’t eating on his own. He did the same when he was a hero. Sometimes going for days without a proper meal in order to Protect. Toshi didn’t have anyone to help him with this, save for the few years Nighteye was with him. And that’s why he knows exactly what Deku needs.

After meticulously putting together the food in the bento box, he wraps it his signature bunny cloth…only to have Deku reject not only the meal, but HIM as well. Watching the boy walk away from him raises a memory of himself doing the same to Nighteye in the hospital. He now knows how Nighteye felt when he turned his back on him. Nighteye had left, unable to watch him slowly kill himself.

But Toshi can’t leave. Deku is all. He. Has. The only reason he’s still alive.

And yet, the food he prepared for his boy, the love he put into it to nourish him, ends up spilt. Splattered in the mud. Ruined. Rejected. Wasted…The food too.

And this final scene. Seeing this was so painful in the manga. I imaged he was crying, or trying not to. And my heart ached just thinking about it. But finally being able to hear it, to hear that yes, he is in fact crying, audibly, for the first time without holding himself back…that’s what finally shattered me.

[a-confused-spoon]

Jinx's haircut: how Powder and Ekko's story comes full circle

Hi! So, it appears Jinx will be cutting her hair short in season 2 (which is cool as fuck), and I’ve been seeing a lot of discussion on it, so I wanted to share my two cents 😊

I might refer to Jinx and Powder as if they are different ideantities, but I'm aware that's not how that works; it's just an easier way to express myself. Also english isn't my first language, so apologies for any possible wiritng mistake (this is a bit of a mess 😅)

* deep breath in *

As it has already been pointed out, this choice must have a deeper reason other than esthetic (I've been seeing the phrase "hair holds memories" used a lot), and what's even more interesting is that her new look resembles a lot how she used to look like as a kid; a bit bizarre, given how the entirety of season 1 showed us how Powder and Jinx's coexistence only brings the girl pain. As a matter of fact, the finale makes it clear to us that even she sees these two sides of herself as mutually exclusive.

So why and how exactly would this happen now?

What I keep going back to is the idea that maybe, just maybe, this has to do with her possibly "taking the lead" in Zaun; whether she actively becomes a leader or if she just "leads by example" (therefore passively), it doesn't change the fact that for better or worse she will be depicted as a leading revolutionary figure.

And fair enough: she singlehandedly killed half of the Council, the people who hold decisional power and have contributed to the misery on the other side of the river. After Vender's failed attempt on the bridge and Silco's focus on his own business dealings with Piltover among everything else he did, Jinx's attack on the city - something she does to ultimately solidify her identity as Jinx - opens a door that the Undercity was waiting to be opened for decades.

Here's the thing:

Being Jinx doesn't just mean acting on unbridled rage and being a menace to society; it means being feared by most, if not all, with the only possible exceptions being those who also accepted their inner monster. To put it in Singed's words, "If you take this path, they will despise you".

Being Jinx fundamentally implies loneliness.

Silco was consistently reminding her this: "I am your family; everyone else betrays us" / "Everyone betrays us Jinx! Vander! Her! They will never understand, it's only us".

In the official clip 'Enemy of my enemy' we find out that he only saw her cry twice, the two scenes we also witness as an audience, meaning he didn't see her cry once during the timeskip, and I'm sure it's safe to say that she most definitely did cry a lot given how she goes from episode 3 Powder (scared, couldn't grasp the concept of killing someone, heartbroken by the nickname jinx) to episode 4 Powder (a beast, kills in cold blood, has taken Jinx as her actual name)... it must've been an ugly transition, and it definitely didn't happen overnight; if Silco, who was the closest person she had all that time, didn't see it, then I think it speaks a lot on how alone Jinx really was in her darkest times.

For all the love he had for her, he reinforced this idea of isolation as an unescapable consequence of the right path, and I think this is also reflected in the lair that (supposedly) he found for her, especially when you compare it to the Firelights’ one:

The Firelights (this is important for later) are all about community and sharing joy as well as struggle and pain; they live in a place of healing, filled with life, without a roof so the sunlight can reach them during the day, and at nights living bugs that shine a light of their own fill up the hideout.

Jinx's place is diametrically opposed to this: it’s dark and looks cold, it's completely made of metal, the roof’s blocking any natural light and it hangs above an abyss with no bottom to be seen; the only company she consistently has are the puppets of her dead brothers and the only living thing that knows his way in is the only one that can understand, the only one she can rely on - aka Silco himself.

However, as Jinx herself knows, this may have worked for him, but it wasn't working for her for the longest time: she never stopped yearning for affection, love, friendship- that part of her never really went away; it was only being suppressed, suffocated, maybe unintentionally, and I strongly believe that it only worsen her trauma, and it's one of the things that made her spiral so bad into her depression, to the point of hallucinating.

I think that Silco's line in the baptism scene is particularly relevant here: "You need to let Powder die, so the fear of pain will no longer control you", where the fear of pain would refer to the fear of being on her own, of always failing and disappointing others, of being weak and never satisfying the desires, expectations, hopes that Powder carried within her to be “a valuable member of the team”.

If she lets Powder die (which again, she does in the final episode of season 1), this is no longer a problem: if she doesn't do teams, because teams don't want a jinx to begin with, that fear can't get to her; if she's a solo player, a self-sufficient loose cannon, she won't need to rely on anyone but herself because she's strong on her own and does not need the support of others.

If her power lays in the monster she is, the one everyone condemns her for being, then that childhood wish of hers just isn't a realistic option.

...but then this happens.

We know from the teaser trailer that in the operation Caitlyn's leading, 'finding Jinx' and 'neutralize any agent still loyal to Silco' are separate objectives. Which makes sense, since as far as they know Silco was the leader of a group of people, and now that he's gone Jinx is an individual under her own agency and her own agency alone. If initially she fights by herself, for herself because she can and fuck Piltover, then it all falls in line with what I stated so far.

But then we hear Sevika, who has hated Jinx's guts and who Jinx has hated back since day one, telling her to get the people together, to unite the Undercity as one because she can do that. Mind you, the girl has lived in Zaun all her life, she knows damn well that the end of Piltover is something the entire Undercity has been waiting for (“Imagine what the whole of the Lances could do!” from episode 2); yet despite this she needs to be openly told what is going on, that she’s not sizing the opportunity she’s created. She isn't, cause... her? Leading? A group of people? No. Not after the last time she tried to help, and most importantly, not after everything she learned under Silco.

Jinx can't fathom the idea of herself as a part of a part of a team. How can she? She literally just came to terms with isolation as ever present- and now, for some reason, the people of the city, who always either ran away from her or wanted her gone, are dying their hair blue in her image, trusting her, following her, painting murals of her as the bringer of revolution.

She isn't taking power forcibly like Silco did; she's just doing her thing, her Jinx thing, and Zaun, on its own, is choosing her as the leading figure.

Imagine how frustrating it must be for Jinx to look back and realize that Silco, her father- who has loved her, forgiven her, raised her, called her perfect, defended her, was there for her, saved her, guided her- was wrong, and put her in a condition of never ending existential pain when she could’ve had it differently the entire time; imagine how confusing it must be for her to look back and realize that it never mattered whether or not others understood her, 'cause she wasn't as unlovable or unforgivable as she thought herself to be in the first place, that Silco and Vi were never her only options.

Imagine how painful it must be for her to look back and realize that for all this time she could’ve had friends and be accepted and be trusted and rely on others because she never HAD to be alone.

...keeping this in mind, let's talk about Ekko and the missing flashback from episode 7 for a moment.

Admittedly we don’t have a lot of information, other than it took place not too long after the events of episode 3 (then again, to be fair, we don’t know a lot about their relationship as enemies as well: it’s all between the lines; I surely have my own opinions of how they feel about each other being on the enemy side, but I don’t believe it’s super relevant here). What’s for sure about this flashback is that it was a defining moment in both Ekko and Powder’s journey, especially for the latter. Someone surely died, and it 100% was Powder’s fault. It could be both the result of her very first crisis or her first intentional murder; in both cases it results in her deciding for herself to align with Silco as opposed to her best friend.

The way I like to see it is that, since the trauma was still very fresh, she might have been too scared of the idea of fighting alongside others after what happened last time, and she pushed herself to kill someone on purpose just to push Ekko away and prove a point (Silco’s point). I love the idea of the tragic irony of Ekko being the one person Powder managed to really save, and Powder being the one person Ekko couldn’t.

Personal headcanons aside though, the last part is the most important one here: Ekko couldn’t save Powder from Silco, and by extension everything he represents.

I’d like to point out that one of the most tragic aspects of the two becoming enemies (to me) is that, throughout those years, they reciprocally were the only living person the other shared a past with (well, Vi too, but she was in prison the entire time).

Silco not only takes over by force, he also marks as his all the places of said past: the Last Drop, Vi and Powder’s house… one line that always stuck with me from episode 7 is when Ekko tells Vi “All that’s left is Jinx, and she belongs to Silco”.

Not with Silco; to Silco. As if she too a piece of the past he turned into his property.

It’s like he understands that while yes, Powder made the decision by herself, that she wants to stay with Silco, he also knows that the man is the one to blame for... well, all of it; the kid was there when Silco showed up unprovoked at Benzo’s place, he knows things went downhill from there.

Ekko knows that he is the bigger problem and the bigger enemy. Even Vi, without knowing a thing about the past few years, can tell Silco put some shit into her sister’s head; Ekko can probably guess the same, difference being that Ekko has the responsibility of keeping other people safe, and he can’t risk it all for someone that, while possibly manipulated, ultimately isn’t collaborative. Ekko can’t jeopardize all he’s built and done for his former best friend, no matter how much it hurts him to be her enemy.

Back to season 2.

Like the entire fandom has already pointed out, there’s a 99.9% chance there will be an alliance between them and Jinx, especially when looking at Ekko’s new outfit.

Of course, this will not be immediate: my guess is that while Jinx works alone at the very start Ekko will be with Heimerdinger and following the arrest of the Firelights we see in the trailer maybe there’s a split. And even after Jinx takes charge so to speak, and possibly frees them, among others, from Stillwater, it’s possible there will be (and there should be) stages in the alliance: initial distrust, potential fight within the community- like yeah, let’s not forget what Jinx did to these people.

Even if they do go ahead with it, it is probably out of necessity more than anything else, with not one but two military forces against the whole of the Underground. It’s not like they’d be the most ecstatic faction about it, and the same goes for Ekko, which is why the new look will probably come in later.

But exactly like he could see Powder for a brief second on the bridge clearly enough for him to stop himself from beating her, he will, most definitely, see her again through Jinx's inner turmoil... that, and she also can’t keep her shit together when it comes to what she's feeling, the girl really is an open book.

And yeah, the situation would be pretty emotionally disorienting: she's being as Jinx as ever, but people like her now, which is something she used to want as Powder, who is supposed to be dead, and they're willingly following her like they willingly followed Vander and there's murals of her with him, though she's pursuing what aligns more with Silco's dream, but also turns out Silco was wrong about Powder, who might still be alive deep down- the whole thing is a big big mess.

Despite everything that I said about him, it’s not like Jinx would start to resent Silco. She could never, not after his last words to her. They mean the world to her, he means too much to her, and let’s not forget she probably hear his voice now too, along Mylo’s and Claggor’s; it might even be a calming voice to her, one she’s happy to hear even if she knows he’s not real… which makes it all worse and more painful to deal with.

In this scene from the trailer, it seems like Ekko’s talking to her (some have pointed out the blue hair out of focus). Since this is still the look in season, at this point in time Ekko (and the rest of the Firelights) are not truly committed to this alliance with Jinx, and vice versa, Jinx is still figuring out how to deal with all this unexpected appreciation.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned about Jinx’s way of dealing with inner conflicts, especially ones that deal with the memories of the past, is that it often leads to disaster. This is a bit of a long shot, but what if the reason Ekko’s so beat up Is because she unintentionally sabotaged one of their own attacks on Piltover? Or perhaps they were caught up in a tough situation because of something she did or didn’t do? My point is that if he really is talking with her while in this condition, she probably is in a similar one.

Regardless, they are on the same side, and they are having a conversation. This is very likely the first time they reach out for each other since the day she chose to not go with him.

And I think it’s believable that of all the people she now has beside her, she’d talk to Ekko: he has this leader stuff already figured out. He has and still is taking care of people and keeping them safe better than she ever will, and on top of that, he still is the only one in Zaun (again, aside from Vi) who has known her since before she was Jinx, and he spared her on the bridge. He’s the perfect person to open up to.

And, get this, not only Ekko understands the pressure of taking the lead: he knows what it means to look back at someone you were fond of and feeling the pain of being wronged by them. He knows what it’s like to look back at old memories of someone you trusted and wonder if all those moments together really were what you thought they were, he knows what it’s like to wish it could all go back like it was, just so that candid version of them you have in your mind can still be true, present and untainted by the ugliness that now ruins all those precious moments.

He knows, 'cause he went through it with her... and now he can finally reach her.

Ekko may have not been able to save her from Silco then, but he can save her from Silco now.

And since he has built a community that grieved together, went through pain and joy together, he simply does what he’s always done with the Firelights. Sharing.

He tells with her what has worked for him: “Sometimes, taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind”- in the Franch dub he says “leaving a part of oneself behind”- meaning it doesn’t have to be all or nothing: she has the power to choose what to kiss goodbye and what can stay…

…and then she cuts her hair.

I think it’s important to note how these two moments are very similar in setting. I kid you not, the first time I watched the trailer I was convinced this was a scene where Jinx was burning Silco’s body after she killed him- which frankly could still be the case. I’ve also seen discussions being made for the little girl we see in the trailer being burned here, or Sevika, but I don’t think it’s either. Jinx is completely desensitized to death, even when Silco died her makeup isn’t this ruined. My guess is that this is something much deeper:

Jinx never properly grieved the past. Ever. So, maybe, she’s burning the part of herself she’s leaving behind. The hair she cut.

The hair Silco used to braid for her.

These two scenes parallel each other because “nothing ever stays dead”, but Silco must stay dead, for her own sake. For her own happiness: she is leaving him behind for good.

Only after this moment we get the new look for Ekko: he can work with this new Jinx, the one that now knows she can work within a team, even to the point of committing to the outfit (lol).

If in season 1 Jinx accepted her identity as it was defined by Silco, in season 2 she's re-inventing it under her own conditions: she gets to choose what "being Jinx" may or may not include. And it will always include a little bit of Powder.

Thanks for reading! 💚💙

[sepublic]

People -and this did include myself at one point- really don't want to engage with the fact that Belos is modeled after white supremacy by trying to bury this under the lens of "Oh he's actually a lonely weirdo like Luz!!!" when Belos' superiority complex is the most important part of him and it's where all analyses inevitably must stem from. I think the problem is that people are too attached to their speculative fanon version of Belos and instead of letting go of that to rebuild their understanding of him from the ground up (since he's a mysterious character who is only gradually revealed bit by bit), they keep clinging to this sympathetic tragic villain as the core behind their interpretation of him. 

Everything about Belos makes so much more sense when you explore him as someone akin to a lot of right-wing 4channers; A lonely young boy who was radicalized because white supremacy promised to rescue him from his isolation, and after buying into it wholesale, he very much chose to cling onto the need to be superior to the "NPCs" even when someone close to him actually unlearns and deconstructs for him why this is harmful. He sees firsthand how someone just like him is happier for leaving this mindset, and then kills them to eliminate that contradiction threatening his world belief; At which point it’s inaccurate to infantilize him as just a lonely and misguided kid, because he’s no longer a kid and he made a very cognizant and informed choice to double down and commit actual violence.

And everyone knows that by this point, such people are not actually being sincere; They’re not secretly misguided, you can’t simply attribute their harm to not knowing better because this is what their religion says or whatever. These people know they’re committing harm, but rather than help on “lesser” people’s terms, they ‘help’ the way THEY see fit, in the way that strokes their ego. That’s what separates Philip from someone like Gwen, who humbled herself to focus on what Eda was saying she really needed. So the Titan’s summarization of Belos as someone who only cares about being the hero in his own delusion, and fears what he can’t control is… hardly an oversimplification, it really gets to the core of Belos as a character, and the narrative he embodies. It captures the difference between wanting to help and having a savior complex, and is what ends up delineating the two at the crucial crossroads. 

And I find it a little concerning to joke about how this type of character is “just a silly guy” when people exactly like him are on the rise and committing very real violence right now. It’s also why I don’t buy the justification behind a lot of salt about how villains need to be humanized in order to show kids how THEY can become villains, because the show is fairly outright about how Belos rationalizes atrocities under the guise of the ‘greater good’ and refuses to self-reflect, and it’s not as if we don’t have Luz learning to understand characters like Amity or Lilith, the Collector and even Kikimora (whom she DID relate to personally, yet Kiki still doubled down with or without Belos), while still having the show emphasize that they need to get their act together and can’t just depend on people to save them. 

There’s also the very obvious theme of Luz realizing she doesn’t owe her oppressor anything, especially not when he won’t ever meet her or anyone else on their terms, but idk some people just seem to hate Luz for having boundaries I guess, even though she already put in the effort to be kind and understanding to Belos and she got hurt for it. Hell the Collector made that effort after being inspired by Luz, and Luz was murdered protecting them from that mistake!!! There are some very obvious stories and lessons being told here with the actual protagonists being the heart of those narratives, but the problem I’ve noticed is that a lot of the people complaining on Belos’ behalf are those who hyperfixated almost exclusively on the Wittebane aspect of the lore, going over it with a fine tooth comb and microscope to extrapolate an entire fanon from the littlest of details… only to just ignore the actual show and narrative and themes happening on-screen. 

And that leads to many not understanding various narrative decisions because they weren’t really paying attention to the actual point they’re in service to, and then they blame the writers for their own chosen ignorance, and how the story wasn’t about their part specifically so everything else doesn’t count and the whole show is wasted potential, really. The way so many of said fans immediately turned on Luz after the finale and tried to drag her down to Belos’ level by acting like she wasn’t any better for also wanting things and 'demonizing enemies', claiming Luz had unaddressed ‘flaws’ while Belos deserved more sympathy, and framing Belos as a ‘better’ character who ‘worked harder’ while claiming Luz was retconned into an arrogant chosen one who never grew, is actually baffling.

A lot of them are just upset that Belos didn’t play the role in Luz’s arc that they wanted him to play, so they’ve opted to dismiss Luz’s overall storyline as badly written and even a reflection of Dana's 'Catholic complex' (which is a tasteless jab to make) because they neglected the nuance behind every other aspect of Luz that wasn’t directly tied to Belos, that didn’t set her up as the one person who understands him or whatever because that’s more important to them than addressing the sheer trauma and pain that Belos willingly inflicted upon Luz. Because god forbid this brown girl be angry against her white abuser, huh? God forbid the white guy be used to set up the brown main character, rather than the other way around right????? It’s really just a jealous complaint about the show’s choice of priorities and celebration, hidden under the false guise of ever caring about Luz’s arc for Luz’s sake.

And that’s how you get insincere arguments about how Belos should’ve been able to survive, that’s how you get AUs that undermine the lessons of canon to egregiously relegate Luz to being Belos’ sidekick, or even present her as an obstacle to him getting his much-needed redemption, as if that last part hinges on all of Belos’ victims getting over their pain to help him, because obviously he needs it more than they do! Because we gotta spare Belos’ feelings by giving him friends instead of consequences!!! Unbelievable. He is not Amity, not Lilith, and definitely not Hunter, and the people who forgave them had actual reason to do so. And even Lilith had to move in with her mother so she could be given reparations by someone who actually owed it to her, rather than her younger sister and two kids.

And there’s definitely a major difference between Lilith and Gwen’s dynamic and Philip and Caleb’s, especially since Caleb was also a child when he moved into Gravesfield. Even if you think Belos' bigotry was radicalized due to 'grief' over losing his brother to witches, that's just entitlement and control because it's not as if Caleb can't have more than one positive relationship in his life; Philip is no better than people who blame minorities for some incident in their life and use that as justification to become white supremacists, and there's nothing sympathetic or 'tragic' about that.

But the point is that Caleb ultimately wasn’t THAT important to Belos because he’d always be secondary to witch-hunting, Belos clearly chose his white supremacy over his brother, and any ‘takebacks’ that come in the form of the Grimwalkers are insincere given Belos does nothing to actually repent or regret his violence committed on the people of the isles; It’d have been one thing if he DID try to undo his mistake by choosing differently, by cloning Caleb and giving up witch hunting, but he still doesn’t (Note that Belos does not hallucinate the ghosts of the witches he killed; He still feels no remorse over them, because his fear of being wrong comes from a selfish place). And unlike Luz, Belos can’t have it both ways because one option explicitly calls for the extermination of the other; It’s the Paradox of Tolerance that Luz struggled with, except contrary to what Belos claims, humanity’s existence does not require the eradication of others.

Because yes there IS a meaningful moral distinction between Luz and Belos -don’t forget they’re not just parallels but explicit opposites- that occurs even before you get into the genocide, not that you should neglect that other part either because it’s incredibly important, being the starting point for this entire rant. Society already has a bias towards devil’s advocating bigotry as some big misunderstanding, and prioritizing the angst of white dudes who commit it over the victims of color; Can we avoid applying that to fiction?!??!? I literally saw someone complain that the show didn’t portray Belos’ grief from murdering Luz, and that Luz’s “glory moment” took away from a Wittebane backstory!!! At this point, people are just being racist.

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Hello polter! What do you think about the new cuphead dlc? I told myself I wasn’t going to fall for Chef Saltbaker, but i was very wrong. Could we please have some headcanons sometime?

A/N: Man you could really tell how far behind I am on some of these requests– man, I didn’t even know how long I’ve been in this rut until now. Especially since the DLC came out 2 years ago. Even as I am typing out this little note, I can’t help but grimace and feel awful for only now getting to this (シ〒﹏〒))シ

Now, I wasn’t sure if this was referring to just general headcanons or x reader ones, so I decided to go for the former for the time being!

General Chef Saltbaker Hcs:

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Even before his scheme to finally bake the Wondertart came to light, the residents of Inkwell Isle Four sensed something was… off about Chef Saltbaker. The way his  jolly smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes; how he’d often lash out at random intervals before suddenly slipping his cheerful mask on; the numerous backhanded remarks he’d dole out to customers— and god forbid he becomes passive aggressive. 

Point is, he wasn’t really a friendly fellow to begin with– and everyone was able to catch on relatively quickly. However, there was a tense, silent agreement between the other Island denizens and Chef Saltbaker: they stay out of his business, and he’ll play nice. And with gourmet treats to sweeten the pot, it’s enough to make most people look the other way. 

He kept his life incredibly private prior to his rehabilitation. Chef Saltbaker wasn’t originally from the fourth Isle, having quietly set up his bakery to little fanfare. The man hardly ever left the building, either. During the late hours of the night, long after closing hours, a few onlookers even caught him opening the door that led to the basement of the bakery; leading to a few crazed conspiracies and theories of what exactly he did down there.

Granted, considering how Saltbaker had a lab down there, they weren’t wrong. But he also just had a nook that he lived in. Rent could be expensive in the city blocks of the Isle. He’d rather spend most of his budget towards ingredients, so living within the bakery was just naturally the better option. 

Honestly, baking the Wondertart was the culmination of a series of unfortunate events. A struggling career in the culinary arts, years of being taken advantage of by restaurant owners– who dangled the empty promise of a promotion if he just was more passionate, constant stress over meeting rent, funding the bakery, and himself, rude customers; it could go on forever. After continuous disappointment and admittedly isolating himself, it was easy to see why he went a little, ah, mad. 

Saltbaker’s gotten a lot better though! Albeit, there’s still remnants of that bitter, passive aggressive (hell, even just normal aggressive) personality lurking underneath his much more positive self. Now that he has gained the trust and friendship of the Isle denizens– finally gaining a sense of belonging and community he didn’t know he was missing– he’s calmed down significantly. 

Complete and utter neat freak about his kitchen. Organizes all ingredients and spices alphabetically and dedicates separate drawers to each cooking utensil. Not to mention that at the end of each shift, he’ll make sure that the kitchen is absolutely spotless. He does not care if it’ll take him an extra hour; if everything is not in order like he left it, he’ll go mad. 

After doing community service, Saltbaker mostly just uses his laboratory to experiment with different flavors and batters for his deserts. Some of his concoctions range from mere enhancements to common flavors like strawberry to exotic flavors like dragon fruit or lychee. He’s open to new flavors!

While his large, pot-bellied frame may not look it, Chef Saltbaker is incredibly fast. When you’re working a one-man show and have a line of customers waiting for their orders, it’s completely necessary for him. Granted, a lot of the people who come in are usually complete sweethearts and are willing to wait. Nevertheless, the man’s practically a blur as he’s speeding from station to station, kneading dough one second and then preparing a batch of frosting the next. If he finds himself needing extra help, he’ll usually use magic or conjure up a salt clone. 

Though the latter doesn’t happen all too often since said clones tend to make his desserts much saltier than he would like.

Food gore makes him irrevocably angry and stressed out. Why on earth would you show him this? Saltbaker already hated wasting food, but downright ugly food or disgusting looking combos will genuinely mess him up for the rest of the day. Same thing with those images of people gripping their food too tightly. The first time Cuphead did it to an eclair in the bakery, it took every muscle of self restraint for Saltbaker to not jump over that counter and clobber a child to death. 

Speaking of, don’t ever suggest to add breadbowls to the menu in front of him. He took pride in baking that loaf of bread and you want him to massacre it?! How very dare you. He doesn’t care if it’s a popular trend, he’ll sooner slap the person who asked than waste a crumb of that bread. 

Incredibly strong, but that’s a given. The man kneads dough by hand all day and usually carries in crates and heavy bags full of groceries into the bakery. Could pick up around five grown men with ease. 

Ms. Chalice usually pops in to get extra cookies, and will often offer to help out where she can in the kitchen. She and Chef Saltbaker were kind of awkward around each other for a bit– given the whole “Hey I lied to you and your friends and tried to steal their soul” bit. However, after some time, they’re comfortable around each other to the point where you’d usually overhear their banter while they work. 

“Oh, come now, Saltbaker! You can’t put a price to our friendship!”

“Yes I can, dear. Fifty dollars.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

[my-illness-and-me]

Dear Friend,

I’ve been meaning to write this for a while now. It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to live inside a body that won’t let you forget it, even for a moment. Chronic pain is something I don’t talk about often, mostly because it feels invisible to everyone else. I can move through the day, smile through conversations, and still—beneath it all—there's this constant hum, like a shadow that never leaves.

It’s not the kind of pain that screams. That kind of pain gets attention, a solution. No, this pain is quieter. It lingers. Sometimes it feels like an ache in my bones, sometimes a stabbing sensation out of nowhere. There are days it’s almost bearable, like background noise I’ve learned to ignore, and then there are days where it’s all I can hear.

What’s hardest to explain is how exhausting it is. Pain doesn’t just hurt. It drains you. It’s like trying to live your life while carrying something heavy, all the time, with no chance to set it down. And there’s no telling when it will get worse, or better, or stay exactly the same. It makes planning things difficult, even simple things. Sometimes, I cancel plans because I can’t move the way I need to, or I’m so tired from managing the pain that I can’t imagine sitting through a conversation.

I know it can seem like I’m distant or distracted. I don’t want you to think I don’t care or that I’m not present, but honestly, there are times when being in my body takes up so much of my attention, there’s nothing left to give. It’s hard to explain this to people who haven’t experienced it. Pain becomes a part of your life, but not in a way that you can see. If I could show it, like a bruise or a broken bone, maybe it would make more sense.

What makes it harder is the silence. Chronic pain isn’t something people talk about much, and sometimes I feel like if I bring it up, I’m being dramatic or asking for sympathy. But really, I’m just trying to be honest with myself and with you. It’s not about wanting pity. It’s about trying to make sense of this life, to explain why some days I’m not as present, or why I seem like I’m carrying something unseen. Because I am.

I’ve learned to adapt in ways I didn’t think were possible. I’ve learned to listen to my body, to accept that some days will be harder than others. I’ve learned that healing isn’t always a cure, but sometimes just a way of coping better. But it’s also lonely, in a way I didn’t expect. When the world keeps moving around you, and you’re trying to keep up through this fog of pain, it feels isolating.

I want you to know that even if I don’t always talk about it, it’s there. And when I cancel plans or go quiet for a bit, it’s not you—it’s this thing that has become part of my life. I’m doing my best, and some days are better than others. But I appreciate your patience, your understanding, more than I can say.

Thank you for being there, even when I can’t always explain what’s going on inside me.

With love, Aaron

[loserboyfriendrjl]

Lady, the Potters’ German Shepard, dropped herself at Sirius’ feet, nuzzling his knee with her snout. She sniffed him, tentatively, then plopped her head on his worn out trainers, then moved it to his thigh, covered by his jeans.

“Hey, girl,” Sirius grinned, scratching her behind her ears, (the way he liked it, too, obviously), which earned him a pleased whine from the dog. “You’re beautiful, aren’t you?”

As an answer, she raised her head and gently shoved his arm. He reached into his pocket and held out his palm, a biscuit in his hand, which Lady accepted gratefully.

Sirius hummed. running his hand down the thick fur on Lady’s back. There was something calming about spending time in the proximity of animals, just as it was when he turned.

The past few days (which had been more than a week, according to his friend), James would say he’d been isolating himself from everyone and trying to escape his feelings. Which would not be entirely untrue, considering the fact that Sirius’ emotions always felt more shallow, less human, when he wasn’t a person. And, besides, he didn’t want to bother with sorting out with all the complicated feelings he was feeling, (including the rather strange dreams he had started having recently which included James (no, he was not going to think about it anymore)), nor did he think the Potters would particularly enjoy his presence.

He wasn’t sulking, though. He was just ignoring most, if not all of the things he felt.

Lady whined; Sirius’ thoughts were disrupted by it, and when she had his attention again, she playfully licked his face, which made him laugh.

“Reckon she likes you,” James said, having jogged towards where his friend had been sitting in the garden. “It usually takes her a while to warm up to people, and she still bares her teeth at Peter from time to time.”

“She probably felt we’re, ah, similar,” Sirius answered, grinning, his nails grazing at the spot between her ears. “Dogs are very smart animals, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had me figured out.”

“Probably why she started barking at me, then,” James added, jovially, spreading his legs and letting Lady lick his bicep. “She’s hot and cold with me, really. Sometimes we’re friends and sometimes we aren’t.”

They sat in silence for a while, until James cleared his throat.

“You’re staying, right?”

“Till I can get back on my feet.” Sirius shrugged. “I’ll probably have to find myself a job in the meantime. I’ve always wanted to tinker with cars and stuff, so I might do that.”

“You know you can stay, though, right? Mum and Dad love you. Which is exactly why I don’t understand why you spend the bare minimum with them. You know they enjoy your company, right?”

He scratched his nose. “Sure.”

James rolled his eyes. “Mate, come on.” He playfully hit Sirius with his fist in his arm, which made the latter look at him and put up his finger in a rather obscene gesture. “My parents like you. They want you around. They’ve both told me that. Come on, help Dad with his crosswords. He’s stuck.”

Sirius pushed against James’ shoulder, standing up, towering over him. “Fine,” He grinned, “but you’ll let me spend time with Lady and you’re not going to be waking me up early. I want to be able to sleep my summer holidays to the fullest, and you’re not allowing that.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” James snickered, standing up looking pleased with himself. He looked for a second too long at Sirius (or maybe he just imagined that, James’ eyes on his mouth) before he pushed Sirius forward and linked their arms together, making their way to the manor.

[molsno]

hello ^-^

soo i saw one of your posts about transmisogyny which i thought was really well written and articulated, so i wanted to get your opinion on something.

i’ve seen some tme trans(masc) people on here say that treating trans men like “gender traitors” or “siding with The Enemy” is bioessentialist and terf rhetoric, however i see this brought up almost exclusively in response to conversations about tme and/or male privilege. to me it seems like they feel invalidated or vilified by trans women and discussions about transmisogyny, and so they reposition the issue as one which targets and oppresses them so that they can avoid having to confront any privilege they may possess. i also think the way they phrase it purposely obfuscates what they’re really getting at, which is that men are oppressed for being masculine and held up as the ultimate evil (patently untrue). but i don’t really know as much about it as you might and it’s also not my place to decide what is or isn’t transmisogyny as a tme, so i wanted to hear your thoughts.

no pressure to respond and i hope you have a nice day <3

thanks for the well wishes. I'm trying to hold it together today and I figure I may as well answer this to distract myself

anyway yeah, those are some pretty astute observations. to be honest, I have to agree that the "gender traitor" narrative is bioessentialist, which is why it very much is terf rhetoric. in order for trans men to be "gender traitors" or "siding with the enemy", you would have to suppose that they are fundamentally women, and that they chose to be trans in order to escape from misogyny and gain access to male privilege. the basis of this hypothetical relies on the premise that they are female due to some permanent unchangeable characteristic, which is exactly what bioessentialism posits. plus, this narrative relies on the willful depiction of transness as nothing more than a lifestyle choice, which is blatantly transphobic due to the fact that for many trans people, transness manifests independently of any external factors.

(you will find a lot of debate about what makes people trans, and there is a lot of disagreement even among trans people, but I'm not going to get into that right now. just assume that my point is that there is no universal narrative that explains why people are trans and it varies from person to person.)

that being said, I feel it's also important to point out that there's no shortage of transmascs who are terfs or were former terfs. the reason for this is pretty obvious when you think about it for a few seconds: terfs regularly talk about how womanhood is an innately traumatic and miserable experience, and closeted transmascs for whom womanhood IS a traumatic and miserable experience sometimes gravitate toward that community because it makes them feel understood. terfs very much operate like a cult in this way, and you could easily assert that transmascs who become terfs are victims of cult brainwashing. however, my sympathy for them ends the moment I remember that they willingly joined a hate group whose purpose is the extermination of people like me.

and make no mistake! many of these men are still just as transmisogynistic as they were before! even the ones who leave the terf community (which is not all of them) only do so because they often find that they're no longer welcome when they choose to transition, not out of any desire to atone for the violence they've perpetrated against trans women.

so, what are these trans men to do after they've been exiled from the community that validated their existence and gave them a political drive? how can they reconcile the fact that their decision to choose masculinity and manhood has resulted in them feeling ostracized, ridiculed, and isolated? it's simple really: redefine their politics around the premise that men are actually hated in society. this is an easy conclusion for them to come to when they've been living inside an echo chamber where everyone they know DOES hate men.

the problem with that, though, is that in the eyes of a radical feminist, a "man" is a biological category of person, and any critiques you can make about men's behavior can be attributed to a biological cause. terfs don't ACTUALLY hate men, they hate "biological males" - trans women.

and that's very true of these transmasculine "former" terfs as well. they still hold the same bioessentialist views, so they feel vilified whenever they come into contact with the "biological males" they've come to despise so much. most of them don't actually understand any other types of feminism besides radical feminism, so when they encounter trans women reminding them that they have male privilege, they fall back on their bioessentialist beliefs. they're not an evil "biological male", after all, they're a "biological female" who's "ontologically incapable of violence", and a feminist is criticizing them for "siding with the enemy" by "choosing masculinity".

you need to understand that when they do this, it is largely a form of deflection. they resent the radical feminists who discarded them for being trans, and are attempting to distance themselves from the people who hurt them. that's why they're so vehemently anti-feminist. and because they haven't unpacked any of their bioessentialist beliefs, they're able to paint trans women, who deep down they still view as privileged and dangerous biological males, as aggressive and oppressive radical feminists. ultimately, despite whatever conception they have of themselves, they're expressing a form of male entitlement by shutting the conversation down and making everything that terfs do about them, ignoring the fact that the vast, VAST majority of the violence they enact is targeted specifically at trans women. and why wouldn't they? they don't actually care about trans women. they still hate us just as much as they always have, even if they now pay us lip service and (sometimes) use the right pronouns for us.

let me make myself clear: not all transmascs do this. not even a majority! all in all, this kind of story represents a pretty small minority of trans men, but they're very vocal and very visible in the trans community. that's not to say that most transmascs don't hold transmisogynistic views (it's basically impossible to have absolutely none if you're tme), but few of them are this hateful. this story is just one that I've seen played out many times - mostly involuntarily - because I've gotten a lot of these types of guys arguing with me on here and painting me as a radfem for talking about basic feminist tenets such as "men are an oppressor class".

also, as a disclaimer since I don't have time to get into everything: terfs are not a monolith and some terfs welcome trans men into their ranks (though these are an even smaller number of them), this was just one scenario that I hope painted a clear picture of the cause behind this phenomenon you've observed.

I hope this was helpful. if you need more examples, keep an eye on the notes of this post; they'll come crawling in here to argue with me in no time.

[suspensefulpen]

Ballroom Waltz

TW: Discussions of Torture and Kidnapping, Bad Caretaker, Multiple Whumpers

“I really think you should meet them.” Caretaker nodded with a smile. “I think you’d like them a lot.” 

“They sound interesting.” Whumper One hummed before taking a sip of his champagne. He glanced to his right, scanning over all of the faces on the dance floor. “You got me out here, I would at least like to see them. You make them seem like they’re the best thing on this Earth.” 

“Oh, they are.” Caretaker nodded again. “They’re quite wonderful. I’ve known them for about four or five years now. They’re really sweet.” 

“Is that right?” Whumper One squinted at him. “Since when do we keep secrets from each other Caretaker?” 

“I know, I know. But you’ve been so distant lately, especially with me moving away and all. I thought maybe you didn’t want to be bothered. So I just kept it to myself.” Caretaker shrugged, looking down in his own glass. “I kind of miss the good old days Whumper One.” 

He turned his gaze back to the sea of people waltzing out on the dance floor. “Is that why you bought this building?” 

“Yeah… Kind of.” Caretaker nodded. “I just wanted to relive a few memories with you. I realize that’s the only way to get you to come out anymore.” 

Whumper One smiled. “You know I like to have fun, Caretaker. How could I turn such an invitation down?” 

“That’s why I asked you to come.” He smiled back. 

Whumper One remembered back when he and Caretaker were young. Whumper Two too. Whumper Two always threw balls every weekend just so the three of them could have fun. During every one of them, they’d pluck out a lucky guest to torture for a couple of weeks. They always picked a stray. One that no one would notice if they suddenly went missing. Once they were finished having fun, they’d toss them aside and move on to a new one. And of course, they made sure the guest wouldn’t make a peep about what happened to them. If they so much as thought about it, their life would be on the line. 

One night they found themselves a guest lingering near them way longer than necessary. Without a second thought, they quickly made them their target. That night was the biggest mistake of their lives. 

Whumper One cleared his throat, attempting to ignore the pain slowly seeping into his calf. “So, have you heard from Whumper Two lately?” 

“Whumper Two told me he would be here. He should be on his way.” 

“So exactly what part of our memories did you want to relive?” He faced Caretaker again, giving him a look. “The part where we danced the night away, getting as drunk as we possibly can? Or the part after that?” 

Caretaker smirked behind his glass. “I think you know which part I mean.” He took a sip. “I say we do that. But we add a little aftercare afterward?” 

“Aftercare…” Whumper One repeated, as if the word was unfamiliar to him. 

“Yes,” Caretaker nodded. “Think about it. What’s more scary? Knowing you’ll be hurt, or not knowing who you can actually trust?” His smirk turned wicked. 

Whumper One tried his best to hold back a laugh. “And here I was thinking you felt like you were getting too old for this. And that was why you moved away.” 

“Isolation.” He raised a brow at Caretaker. “Think about it, Whumper One. We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one can hear a thing. Last time won’t happen again. Even if they do scream. Everyone will be too busy dancing and drinking to even pay it any mind. Nobody would even care.” 

“And this person you’ve been talking about…they aren’t actually your friend are they?” Whumper One narrowed his eyes. Silence followed his question as Caretaker shifted his attention elsewhere, his smirk never faltering. Whumper One only laughed. “You’ve gotten worse than me.” 

“I can’t blow my cover yet though. I’ll let you and Whumper Two take the lead.” 

“So you’re not gonna help at all?” He raised a brow. 

“Oh I will. I absolutely will. I’ll feed you information.” 

Whumper One slowly began to realize Caretaker’s plan. So that’s what this aftercare thing is all about. This is all so we can break them more easily. This was also why he never told me about them and pretended to be their friend. He was planning all of this from the beginning. Whumper One smirked. “You’re a real sick bastard, you know that?” 

“I learned from the sickest.” Caretaker’s own smirk turned into a soft grin. He made eye contact. “You can break someone more than physically, you know.” 

“You know what, I–” 

“They’re here. Stay there.” Caretaker whispered before walking away. Whumper One watched him walk across the room to the person standing cluelessly by the door. He squinted as the two greeted each other before Caretaker began ushering them towards Whumper One. When they got closer, Whumper One noticed how well dressed they were. Draped in fine fabrics from head to toe, one could only assume the amount of wealth they had. They were very beautiful as well. It was a bit hard to ignore that. Whumper One imagined they looked just as beautiful when they were crying. “Whumpee, this is my great friend, Whumper One.” 

Whumpee smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Whumper One. Caretaker talks a lot about you.” 

Whumper One did his best to suppress the surprise in both his tone and his expression. Not only were they gorgeous, they had an angelic voice to go with it. “Is that right? I’m assuming they were all of my failures and embarrassments.” 

“No, of course not.” They shook their head. “He tells me a lot about how you two grew up together and you were really close friends.” 

Whumper One glanced up and the grin Caretaker wasn’t even trying to hide. He stood straighter, adjusting his suit jacket. “Well it’s nice to meet you too. Any friend of Caretaker’s is a friend of mine.” Whumper One placed his glass down on a nearby servant’s empty tray. He held his hand out. “How about a dance? We get to know each other for a bit, yeah?” 

Whumpee looked surprised but took his hand anyway. “Oh, alright. Sure.” 

Whumper One led them out onto the dance floor. He quickly noted how much smaller Whumpee was compared to him, only coming up to his shoulder. He threw a smirk over his shoulder at Caretaker. 

This should be fun.

Part 2

[your-queer-dad]

Dad, I have no idea what to do. I feel like I have no privacy, no place I can exist to be me. I am a trans kid, and I live with a family that doesn’t exactly understand me. They know about trans people, and they support my trans friends, classmates, and community members, which made me come out to them. Turns out, they don’t believe me because “autistic people are easily influenced by others.”

They took away any kind of way I can properly experiment with names and pronouns in real life or online, with the exception of one game I play (I sure wonder why I spend so much time on there), without consequences (I have never been caught, but I’m assuming my stuff being monitored all the time is in the ballpark and contacting my school to see if I’ve been using other names or pronouns and restrictions on my friends (all of them are queer I shit you not) visiting are things they actually have brought up.) I’m very lucky and happy they can let express my clothes and hair, but they have said how I’ll go back to skirts and dresses eventually and that they want me to do makeup one day and only give me compliments on how I look in clothes whenever I dress feminine (which is like hardly ever). Oh and if you think this means binders, absolutely not.

They forced me to go back into the closet to my friends, the adults I actually trust in my life, my therapist, and I almost did so here (I could bring myself to do so). Obviously everyone knew something was up and I ended up cracking about how my parents, even though they claim to support me every way, they want me to embrace femininity at the end of the day, which I have told them three times I don’t want anymore.

I’m telling you this now because all of my trans friends have supportive families, like ACTUALLY SUPPORTIVE FAMILIES, and I can’t help but feel isolated, alone, tired, sad, scared, hopeless, and ridiculously jealous of my friends. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how I can be proud this month, and I don’t feel heard by my family or most other adults in my life because they fail me again and again. If you have any advice on what I should try, or something that might make me feel better about my situation, please give it to me. I’m just so done with everyone overall. I’m so tired.

Hey kiddo, thank you so much for reaching out. I'm so sorry you've had to go through all that awful stuff, you deserve to be respected and treated better than that by your parents and I'm so sorry they're not doing that. I promise you, it gets better. It really does. There will come a day when you can be you, the true beautiful amazing you, the you you are inside, and you won't have to hide it. You'll be able to shout it from the rooftops, and you won't have to hide. You just have to hang on until then. I know it isn't easy kiddo, and I'm so sorry. I'm always here to listen, 24/7. I'm so proud of you kiddo.

- dad x

[therewasatale]

ABC room

On Ao3.

Summary: Even if Gordon doesn't want to move in to the studio, it doesn't mean that he doesn't have a place in there.

Based on prompt.

Finally, the buildings and the park next to them, quieted down. The puppets either watched the new films that Gordon got to them in the theatre, some cartoon and document films. He and Ricky agreed that this might be the most useful way to help the puppets get back to their old-selves.

He checked on Ray, thankfully everything was all right with the big guy, the basement manageably clean, and the pipes intact.

He fed and played with the dogs in the park, just to make sure they too got enough attention, and while Gordon would never admit, they grew on him over the time.

Goblette returned to her place in the studio. She became a bit prone to isolation over the last couple of weeks, so Gordon managed to get a small tv and VHS player for her. He also made her room more comfortable for her and visited her daily. Goblette had to deal with her own trauma, but with tiny steps, she would get better. She was strong deep down, and one of the best listeners he has ever met.

All in all, everyone was doing fine. Still the most annoying part of this second job was still waiting for him.

He was tired, so God damn tired, thanks to this second secret-job. And yet, somehow, he was still filled with content. For years he couldn't do anything that helped others, now he was at least able to help some lost puppets.

"Gordon, hey, stop snoozing." Ricky slid slightly out from his pipe, right next to Gordon's head and stared at him with his two unsymmetrical eyes.

"I'm not snoozing, just thinking," grumbled Gordon, as he rubbed his face and supressed a yawn. He won't give Ricky the satisfaction of seeing exactly how tired he actually felt.

"Your eyes were closed for abooouuut���55 seconds."

"You're really good at counting, maybe we could make some math lessons for you to teach the kids."

The puppet frowned as much as he was able to. "You're grumpy."

"And you're made out of a sock," Gordon chuckled and glanced down at the paper in front of him.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny, big guy. If you're that sleepy, go to your room and have some rest."

"My room is quiet far away, Ricky. And I want to check on this contract." He could feel the sock-puppet's mismatched eyes stare at him.

"I'm talking about the room inside the building, grumpy." He moved his head, like a human would roll their eyes. It was almost impressive how a puppet could show more emotions than most people Gordon has met.

"I've never agreed to live here." Gordon pointed at the puppet with his pen.

"And I didn't talk about you moving in here, silly," under his fake-cough Ricky added 'for now', "but to be fair it would be more comfortable to everyone. The others like you to be around, make them feel safe, and even Goblette seems calmer when you are around."

Again, Gordon scoffed as he leaned back in his chair. "That's emotional blackmailing, Ricky. Some would say it's a really nasty trick to pull."

"No, it's not, it's just the truth. Listen," Ricky let out an almost honest sigh. "You're a human, you need sleep, even I know your body needs rest, or your brain will conjure some pretty dark thoughts, besides you don't make good decisions when you're tired to the bone."

The puppet got a point, somehow most of the time he got a point when he was arguing with Gordon. It was annoying. In a nicest way.

"So, why don't you lay down in that room? It's actually pretty close. We just have to go down two floors."

"We?" As he glanced over his arm he watched in amazement, as the sock-puppet climbed from his deck to his chair then up to his shoulder.

"Wooho, sweet-sweet freedom. See? I'll guide you there by myself."

Gordon looked at the puppet, who somehow over the few weeks since he known him, became his friend. His overly positive attitude and smartass personality somehow made him endearing.

"Come on," Ricky nodded towards the door. "Or, we can read together the contract if you want." He leaned over from his shoulder and started to read, deliberately mispronouncing a couple of difficult words and then loudly yawning.

"I'm going, I'm going-," Gordon finally stood up leaving the pen next to the unread paper.

"See? Was that really hard?"

"Oh, shut it, before I send you down to Ray through one of the garbage pipes."

Ricky, even without a pair of lungs, gasped dramatically. "You wouldn't dare."

"You would be surprised." Gordon answered letting out a small chuckle.

They made their way to the elevator, and went down two floors.

Gordon felt the exhaustion clinging to him more and more with every step. The only thing that kept him awake was Ricky, who kept curiously glanced around his shoulder, humming a song under his puppet nose.

"The 11th room is yours, it's not too far from the elevator or us, but not too close to the noise we make." The puppet told him. It wasn't hard to find the room actually, it was the only one that had an ABC painted on its door.

"ABC, very funny," Gordon rolled his eyes.

"You have to admit that you were quiet a hero as you gallivanted around the buildings, with that gun of yours."

"You tried to steal it from me." He glanced at the Puppet as he opened the door.

"You wanted to shut down the antenna." Retorted Ricky. "I would say that we're even," he focused his limited attention inside. "So, what do you think?"

He was greeted by a spacious room, when this place was still a popular hotel, they probably charged a small fortune even for one night. Inside, there was a wide bed, two dark lacquered wardrobes, a small table and two accompanying chairs. A door opened to the bathroom, which was now dark.

Still, Gordon's attention was drawn to the drawings and sheets that used to decorate the otherwise white walls. Some just had the text: 'Gordon and his friendly neighbourhood'. Others were drawings showing the different puppets holding hands, with a stick figure that could possibly looked like him. Pirate flags, and crossbones here on there on other papers. There was one, that was a bit dirtier than the others, it had a wrench and some sacks on it. One of the papers only had a giant chicken-like footprint on it. He was able to see another with a piano drawn in crayon. Some puppets chose to draw on papers and put them on the walls, some, now he realised drew straight to the walls of his room.

"Have to say, it wasn't easy to stop them from filling all of the walls. I think they became quiet the fond of you, Gordon." Ricky said, clearly with a warm smile in his voice.

"Yeah, I guess," Gordon murmured and glanced away, but he knew the puppet caught the embarrassment on his face.

"Now, get to the bed and have some rest. We can look at the contract tomorrow, and you can even get a headache. I’ll allow it. "

The puppet gently nudged him with his head. He scoffed with a tired sigh, but listened.

"All right, all right, I can sleep for a couple of hours, then at dawn I can read those darned papers. Just get me some coffee."

"Good, until then I can go and look out for the others. If you'd be so nice chap." Ricky nodded at next to the bed where a pipe was waiting for him.

There was a pause, then Gordon stepped closer, letting the puppet climbed into it from his arm. "Do I want to know, why do you have a pipe to in my room?"

"No."

He scoffed and decided not to push it, instead he laid down into the bed and let out a sigh. The bed was so, so comfortable, and he almost forgot about the puppet next to his bed watching him. Almost.

“You know, Gordon, you remind me of the ocean.” Rocky glanced at him.

Gordon cocked an eye at him, not sure what to expect. “Why the ocean?”

“Because you’re salty and you scare people.” And with that the puppet vanished into the tubes inside the building, his chuckle echoing in the room around him.

"You damn little sock-puppet!" Gordon scoffed again and pulled the cover over him. "One of these days I will turn you into a hat, Ricky!" He yelled after him, but again he only received a warm chuckle.

"Good night, Gordon!" Ricky's voice echoed from the distance trough the pipes; it had a kind friendly tone.

"Yeah-yeah, night." Gordon turned to his side and adjusted the sheet on him. His thoughts began to wander, as his eyes slowly closed. The last thing he saw before falling asleep was the papers and drawings on the wall around him. Once again, he felt like he really made a good decision to help these puppets out.

[impishglee]

there is a certain like, imperative that seeking pain as a coping mechanism is inherently Bad Dangerous Wrong.

i think it would be more helpful tbh to look at self harm from a harm reduction perspective tbh. i’m gonna throw the rest of this post under a read more bc it will be while not exactly more graphic, at least more specific.

ok hi everyone you have been warned.

like different forms of self harm carry different levels of risk.

anyway i was a fairly archetypal cutter through a good chunk of my adolescence. and i’m glad i kicked that habit bc it was dangerous and isolating. i was never severe enough that i think id ever seriously endanger my health or life but still its a risk im glad to be rid of.

but to this day i still find sharp brief pain to be one of the only ways to quickly and discreetly emotionally regulate sometimes. maybe that’s something that happened to my wiring in high school but it is what’s happening. these days however it’s really nothing beyond pinching myself once in a great while.

it’s kind of weird to be taught that any kind of pain seeking behavior is fundamentally unhealthy but i’ve never had anyone explain to me why. if the pain itself is of very low risk to my physical health and the reason i do it isn’t out of self hatred, but a desire to calm myself down, i struggle to see why i should stop. it serves the same purpose as splashing cold water on my face or screaming, but theres going to he plenty of times in my life where the only avenue of regulation needs to be silent, and can be done anywhere with no tools.

why is it that pain seeking behavior taken with adequate knowledge of the risks is considered fundamentally dysfunctional? i have yet to see a convincing argument

[trellia]

I think this post is a long time coming. But also, maybe 1 - someone has pointers to help and 2 - maybe someone else is struggling similarly and would like to know said pointers too.

I have been quite the recluse the past few months. From everyone, really. Why that is why I’m making this post. If you feel like I’ve been drawing away, you’re not wrong. I have. I’ve not been doing too good since… I’d say October. A lot of events have turned my world around for one, realizing what I am living in and not what I thought I was living in. That was something on its own…. At the same time, I was going through the steps to figure out if I have ADHD. I found out a couple months ago that yes, indeed, I do have ADHD.

The diagnosis was first a relief: finally, I now know there’s nothing wrong with me, I’m just wired different. However, relief soon turned into contempt. I became very, very angry. I am very angry. I just reached my 40’s. For at least 35+ years, I’ve been degraded and hurt by the people who should have protected me, understood me, especially in my childhood. Teachers, principals and parents of other children took part in this bullying campaign their children had going, only because I wasn’t following the ‘norms’. I endured trauma so great that I can barely function today.

I mean, I look at the videos of my childhood and I see it immediately: I’m not like the other kids. I’m more hyper, excited, and I just want everyone to take part in the fun, but I’m too much for it. It’s right there. I was called names by adults, and scolded for not doing things the way neurotypical people would. I was called lazy. I was told I don’t care for anyone but myself when, in fact, I have always put everyone ahead of me because I would rather see them happy than be happy myself. So you can imagine how difficult it was to hear that I am selfish and don’t care for anyone else…

I’m also angry at the current people in my life. Some of which have told me to ‘fix’ myself because I was an inconvenience they didn’t want to deal with. So I tried EVERY way to do so, and of course that didn’t work because I was trying to put bandaids on symptoms rather than help with what was the actual problem, but then when I asked for help, I was shunned away like I didn’t deserve it. I lost an entire decade (my late 20’s and my 30’s) asking myself what the hell is wrong with me, why am I such a terrible person, and why can’t I do anything right, and spending my 30’s walking on eggshells everywhere AND in the rpc because I was connection deprived and needed everyone to love me, which led to nefarious people taking advantage and hurt me further. (that’s a post for another day.)

Now here’s the main problem: I’m so angry I want to hurt someone. Not physically, but in every other way. It doesn’t matter who you are, I just want to lash out, whoever you are, friend or otherwise. An example: a friend made a new original character that is actually perfectly fine and pretty good, it’s a great OC! — but inside all I want to do is destroy that break their love for the OC and ruin it for them. Just… because. And that’s NOT okay. The good news is that I see it, I realize it. Which is why I have isolated myself. None of my friends deserve this. But I am angry. I am enraged, because I feel I’ve lost most of my life ‘fixing’ myself until I masked so hard I didn’t even realize until it slipped at 28. I know exactly when it slipped too.

Also, considering the kind of world we live in, I feel like I’ve lived past the mid-mark of my life. I’m not sure I’ll live up to 50 at this point. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair at all that I had to go through all this and still suffer. So yes, I’m very angry. But I also don’t WANT to hurt anyone. Especially not the people I care for… This is why I have not been on disco.rd. I have removed FB (because I wanted to for a long time tho lol ), tiktok… And have mostly removed myself from public spaces.

If you have pointers or ideas on how to get past that anger, please, please share. I don’t really know what to do with it. I don’t know how to tame it. And it scares me tbh. I don’t want to be like this. This isn’t me… but it’s so hard not to be angry…

So… yah: if I don’t respond on disco or otherwise, or not right away, it’s not you, I’m the one stepping away so I won’t say something I really don’t mean just for the sake of harming someone because I can’t accept what has been done to me.

If you read this far, thank you. Otherwise, here’s the jinx of it:

tldr; I was officially diagnosed with ADHD and realized I’ve been treated terribly by my peers because of it and shunned away when I asked for help, so now I’m extremely angry at everything and want to hurt someone (anyone) though I don’t really want to. How do I get over this?

[celestiall0tus]

Paradise - Chapter 24 - Despair and Forsaken

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            Zoe and Felix found themselves back in the gauntlet from before. They exchanged glances before they stepped down along the invisible path, witnessing their pasts again. Felix paid little attention to his own and more on Zoe’s past. Repulsion and regret tore through him seeing what she had to endure up to this point compared to him. He chanced glances at her, but her eyes never met his and remained on each of their memories.

            Zoe and Felix walked in silence until they reached the end. Zoe stepped forward while Felix hung back. He watched as Plagg and Silkii materialized, ready to finish this. He grimaced as he looked at her.

            “I’m sorry for what you’ve had to go through, Zoe,” Felix said.

            Zoe paused. A long silence passed between them before she turned and glared at him. “I don’t want to hear anything from a blue blood like you.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “You’re all the same, right to your core. Your little family problems define who you are without ever having to face true suffering. You act as if your problems are the end of the world while the world ends many times over for people like me and Void.”

            Felix sneered. “Hey, I was trying to be nice, brat.”

            “Nice? You think your empty words are remotely nice? I don’t fucking care what you have to say. Your false sincerity means nothing to me, blue blood prick. Why don’t you just crawl back to your gilded cage and sing your pitiful song while you sit in the lap of luxury while you bitch about your trivial problems being the end of the world!”

            Felix bristled. “My problems are just as real as yours.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry that your daddy issues are a real big problem. I’m sorry you’re a little bitch and can’t fight for yourself because you’re daddy’s little bitch! Oh, you’re so unlucky that you have literally everything else except a loving father. Fuck you.”

            “And you should get over yourself. You’re not the only person struggling around her. News flash, tiny tyke, we all have issues, and yours don’t make you special.”

            Zoe tensed up, her eyes widened, her pupils constricted, and her lips curled back into a vicious snarl. “You have no right to use those words against me, blue blood. You have had everything handed to you! You have a home, security, money, a loving family minus your father. You. Have. Everything! And you stand there and have the gall to project yourself onto me?”

            Felix tsked. “I’d never do that. I’d have no reason to project myself onto a child that could never understand.”

            “Never understand? Never understand! I understand plenty! I understand that the world is catered to your kind, blue blood. That people like me and Void are tossed aside and only brought up when you need to use us before you toss us aside again. You live luxurious, content lives while the rest of us scrape by. Have you ever feared you’d lose your home? Have you ever had to go hungry for days before you’d get your next meal? Did you ever feel isolated by everyone and feel like you never should have been born? Did you ever have to fall into the very pits of hell just to survive? Did you have your family that you found ripped away from you just to be used by blue bloods?”

            “No.”

            “Exactly. I don’t want to hear shit from the likes of you, blue blood. I’ve had to fight. I’ve had to survive. I had to sacrifice any sense of normalcy just to ensure I would live. It would have been easier to give up like that failure of a father, but I refuse to. This is my life. I was brought into it by accident, but I won’t let life beat me down. I know what’s of value out there. I know what’s worth fighting for. I know what’s worth living for. Can you say the same?”

            Felix didn’t answer.

            “I didn’t think so. Why don’t you do us all a favor and get rid of yourself like that failure of a father. We don’t need more people like you in this world. Plagg, let’s go.”

            “Do you-?” Plagg started.

            “Yes to everything, so long as you don’t destroy what I value most like that bitch tried to.”

            “You have my word. Even I know the value in keeping what we love, and to destroy anything that would threaten it.”

            Zoe’s face softened. She scooped up Plagg and pressed her forehead against his tiny head. His body dissolved into shadows that enveloped her and she vanished.

            Felix turned away towards the path they came. He saw his memories clear as day while Zoe’s echoed and faded into the darkness. Anger lingered but were overpowered by bitterness and envy.

            “You don’t have to be like this, if you don’t want,” Silkii remarked.

            “It’s all I know how to be,” Felix whispered.

            “Well, you can be like the little woman child, forced to grow up far faster than she should have. Be like what you envy because it’s not you. You can break free and betray those that gave you everything. You can finally take command. It just takes one little word now.”

            Felix sighed. He looked back at his memories of all the time under Colt’s thumb and the small reprieves he was given by Amelie. He didn’t like the idea of going against and betray Amelie, but he could feel it, deep down, he longed for freedom. He wanted to escape his gilded cage for good. He wanted his life to be his own.

            Felix took a deep breath and turned to Silkii. “Yes, to everything.”

            Silkii grinned. She bowed her head as her body dissolved into shadow. It wrapped around Felix and dragged him down into the void.

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[delphi-dreamin]

Classics

Pairing: Satan x Delphi (AFAB, she/her)

Warnings: Public sex (RAD library after hours), stress relief, unprotected, pet name: kitten

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: I knew I'd finally get around to writing this one! It's not quite what I'd anticipated. But I think I'm happy with it? Anyway, enjoy. (And happy birthday, Satan! 💚)

It had been an infuriating day. She'd missed breakfast, gotten in trouble for being late to her first class, gotten detention for something that she hadn't even done, and to top it all off, Lucifer was in the human world on business for Diavolo. By the time she's out of detention, Delphi just wants the day to end.

She can feel Satan's pact mark burning on her outer thigh and she clenches her jaw. She doesn’t even want dinner at this point. She just wants to go home and go directly to bed. It’s finally the weekend and she doesn’t even have any homework to complete for the next week. She can go home and just shut out the rest of the world.

She doesn’t expect to be pulled into the RAD library by a hand that shoots out of the door as she passes by. She also doesn’t expect to be pinned to the wall by the circulation desk by a very red-faced Satan, his eyes glowing green in the low light. By now everyone else should have left. So why is he still here?

“Do you know how much your rage affects me?” he snarls, his own barely contained.

Delphi nods, whispering, “I remember. I felt it when we formed our pact.”

“I’ve been here for hours trying to distract myself from how angry you’ve been all damned day,” he grits out, clenching one claw-like hand into a fist at his side, still holding her in place with the other.

“Well, I’ve been angry all damned day,” she sighs. “I didn’t have breakfast, I was late to class, and Mammon got me detention. I’m so sorry for inconveniencing you.”

She tries to free herself from his hold and turn away, but he holds her firmly against the wall. With a sneer, Satan says, “Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere. Come with me.”

He takes her wrist and drags her into the stacks, passing by shelf after shelf full of ancient tomes. Delphi jogs behind him barely keeping up, each of his long strides equaling three of her own. She tries her best, but she’s winded by the time he comes to a stop in the literature section. Satan releases her wrist to select a book from the shelf, handing it to her with a wry grin. Delphi looks down at the title and frowns. The Odyssey by Homer. It’s one of her favorite epics, sure. But why is he giving it to her?

He drags her further into the stacks until they reach an isolated study carrel, stacked with books and papers. She looks at him with confusion and annoyance.

“What are we doing here, Satan?” she huffs. “And why did you give me this book?”

“It’s one of your favorites, isn’t it?” Satan asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah?”

He continues, “And Lucifer is currently in the human world, isn’t he?”

“You know he is,” Delphi snaps, crossing her arms. She’s getting tired of this game already.

“So you have no outlet for all this wrath you’re experiencing,” he concludes. “We’re going to fix that.”

Delphi rolls her eyes, dropping the book onto the carrel. “And how exactly is The Odyssey going to vent my wrath?”

Satan grips her chin, bringing his face nearly close enough to touch the tip of his nose to hers. “Lean over the desk and spread your legs,” he growls.

Swallowing thickly, Delphi complies. She rests her forearms on the desk, her back arching so that her stomach rests on the wooden surface, spreading her legs wide. If it were earlier in the day, she would be embarrassed, wary that someone would walk by to find her in such a compromising position. But it’s well after hours and the fire in her belly rages still, fury churning within her like a storm-tossed sea.

“Start reading,” Satan commands as he pushes her panties aside, running a finger between her folds. “Out loud.”

Taking in a shaky breath, Delphi opens the time to the first page. She clears her throat before beginning, “Tell me, o muse, of that ingenious hero who traveled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Tro-hoy!”

She gasps as Satan roughly thrusts into her, his normally gentle hands gripping her hips almost painfully under her skirt. When she doesn't resume her narration, Satan hisses, “Keep reading, kitten.”

Delphi whimpers as he begins to move, slow but hard, slamming his hips into hers. She continues, “M-many cities did he visit, and m-many were the nations with whose manners and c-customs he was acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save his own life and b-bring his m-men safely home; but do what he m-might, he couldn’t save his men, for they p-perished through their own sheer f-fo-holly-!”

A particularly hard thrust sends her sliding further onto the desk, her loud moan cutting her reading off mid-sentence. She takes a moment to catch her breath and find her place in the passage.

“Folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so the g-god prevented them from e-ever reaching home. T-hah…tell me, too, about all these things, O daughter of Jove – oh, there! Right there! – from whatsoever source you may kno-ohh…them.”

Delphi pauses reading to grip the edge of the desk, a loud moan ripping from her throat as he hits a particularly deep spot. She cries out, her voice hoarse from how dry her throat already is, “Fuck, Satan! Harder!”

The Avatar of Wrath happily obliges, slamming into her harder until she’s screaming with every loud snap! of his hips into hers. Her mind goes completely blank as she rolls her hips back to meet his, tears forming in her violet eyes. The only thing she can think of is her own pleasure, grabbing one of Satan’s hands from her hip and bringing it between her legs. She nods into the desktop, whimpering as his nimble fingers tease the fire from her belly to a searing point deep within her that his cockhead continues to pound into over and over.

“So…close,” she pants, resting her head on the desk. “Satan, I’m so close-!”

“Then come for me, kitten,” he growls in response, gripping her hip tighter.

“Oh, fuck-!” she cries, her hips stuttering erratically as the incandescent heat washes over her, whiting out her vision and sending her head reeling. Satan continues to work her through it, until her knees give out and she collapses fully onto the desk, supported by it and his hand on her hip. As the fluttering of her walls slows, Satan pulls out, pumping himself hard and fast until the backs of her thighs are dripping with his cum.

After a few moments, he readjusts her panties and pulls out the study carrel’s chair for her to sit in. Satan brushes Delphi’s hair behind her ear, smiling down at her. Softly, he asks, “Feel better?”

She nods, a hazy grin on her lips as she responds, “Much. Though I’m a bit sticky.”

Satan chuckles, ruffling her hair. “I’ll go get some damp paper towels. You rest here.”

As she watches him retreat back into the stacks she finds herself thinking, Okay, so maybe the day wasn’t all bad.

Taglist: @ariamichel @leavesandflowers @sparkbeast20 @sassykattery