#because i actually have a problem i have to inquire about. its not just a check-in

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Psychiatrist appointment tomorrow...

[lilacstro]

Astro observation pt 7

a lot of posts haha. here we go with our observation series:

1.People with Sun in 8th/12th house, are very untapped. In the sense, the have a hard time discovering their real self and identity. This might seem a very general knowledge I know, but there is a difference between both these placements, with 8th house, the identity is gained through the transformations the person goes through in their life, this search is temporary yet this keeps on changing with experiences.

2. However, with people with Sun in 12th house, this search is everlasting it seems. Its confusing, and intimidating to them. There is a lot of struggle. But they do find themselves, and that happens with self discoveries and self talks and findings, finding yourself, is what I mean, it feels like an eureka moment, and once they realize what was always within them, it becomes their shadow and never really leaves.

3. Often seen gemini moon people laugh off what they are going through and talk about it in a seemingly unimportant way or make jokes about it. I would say, inquire about it when it appears so, its often much serious than how they make it seem and they won't say

4. People with Leo moon are cancer moons in sidereal. I wonder if this is the reason they have charm to them, and strong wave of feels. They may feel lost when they are with a lot of people, and might feel like they are exhausting themselves by putting up a show. They gain clarity and conscience in solitude, and these people have STRONG feelings about things and people and are very expressive about it. This can also be because moon is super comfortable in cancer. This also adds to the intensified charm these people carry.

5. Speaking of which, I have often seen you transform into your element when you are the highest on your feels like maybe when angriest or argumentative, I realized this while talking about an experience with my sister. A fire element person may become extremely volatile and raged, A water element person may feel a choke in their throat, shaky knees, watery eyes and overwhelming feels in the chest, a lot of despair, An air element would not stop throwing whatever is going on in their mind even if they regret it later and might say super outrageous things, An earth element person would just retreat after saying a few words when they feel it isnt a place or time to speak, but they will hold it against you, even for a while, if you did something demeaning.

6. People with 8th house stelliums/moon may dream a lot. Ones with Neptune in 8th house might often have esoteric, mystical, encrypted kinds of dreams.

7. People with Jupiter in 12th house usually have a very kind inner self and personality and that usually reflects onto others, I have seen this in charts of a few people.

8. Pluto in 9th house may actually struggle a lot with academics in general. Having a weird tenacity, would go to either extremes. This would however, see a change much later in their lives.

9. Scorpio mercuries (or maybe water mercuries in general) may have a strong ability to pick up on random words and wide vocabs, like words may come naturally to them even if they might not be aware of the meaning and when you look that up, its a right word to use.

10. Another observation I have noticed in my family is, wherever Virgo is in your chart, whichever house I mean, is where you are often expected to help or be reached for help. Virgo in 1st, tasks involving their all, their whole self maybe, Virgo in 8th? Advices, problems, secrets and mental help and guidance in hard times, Virgo in 9th? helping with tutoring, morals ethics and grounds, Virgo in 6th? help through sickness, for pets and animals. I can make another self proclaimed theory post lol

11. Scorpio stelliums and scorpio suns/moons/8th house placements usually have an ability to test the soil from the surface. What I mean is, they complete the puzzle themselves, without having to do anything, it would just come naturally to them, it can be expecting what the plot for a thriller would be, understanding spiritual sciences or things with having limited basic knowledge much better than expected, being able to know about people from mundane information without even meeting them etc.

12. Virgo people are often fond of doing everything completely, even if it seems they are unorganized or something. Kinds of people who want to read each line of the book, prepare each questions and chapters for the exams, writing everything in detail, without wanting skip anything at all

13. People with capricorn placements (esp sun, moon, rising) might actually have daddy issues or some kind of unusual thing going on with the father. Maybe he lives distant, maybe he was never there, maybe you get to see them rarely, maybe you dont know how to feel about them, maybe they prioritized earning wealth over family time so you don't know if you should hate them for this or love them for breaking their back, or pure daddy issues.

14. People with mars in 9th house, might have a lot of trouble focusing while studying, a lot of restlessness, which can cause problems, academically. However, if they are able to channel this effectively, it can turn into a passionate drive for learning and academia, and you will find them being your rivals soon enough.

15. People with harmonious aspects in moon and Venus/moon and mercury/Venus and mercury/ have smooth talking skills more than often. Making someone feel good even if its your first conversation with them, an ease and charm comes out.

16. People with gemini moons often have siblings. Also read somewhere that their mother probably had them when she was going through a hard time in some ways or some extreme situations could have happened around birth, maybe weather conditions?

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thats all <33 paid readings are open. i love you :)

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

The next day, Cillian went to see his counsellor, the same woman he had been seeing every fortnight for the past two years, which is also when he had started marriage counselling with your mother. 

Enduring three years of loveless marriage had, of course, taken its toll on him, but now he had a different problem all together as, within a span of just seven days, he became somewhat  infatuated with you.

"Cillian," greeted the counsellor, opening the door to her office, and gesturing him inside.

"Niamh," Cillian greeted, as he walked past her and into the room, taking a seat on the worn brown leather couch, facing the armchair where the counsellor sat.

Niamh was a small, bird-like woman, with blonde hair perpetually pulled back into a messy bun and wire-framed glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. She was in her sixties and had a kind, open face that put people at ease, and Cillian had always found her to be a source of support and guidance, especially during difficult times in his life.

"How are you doing today, Cillian?" Niamh asked, setting down her pen and notebook.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes.

"Okay, I think," he began, before diving straight in. "But, to be honest, Niamh, I'm just... confused and I need some fucking guidance," Cillian  said, his voice heavy with frustration and uncertainty.

"I see," Niamh said, nodding sympathetically. "Is it about what we discussed in our last session? Because, as I said before, at your age, not wanting to be intimate can be quite normal," Niamh said gently, referring to the fact that Cillian had lost his interest intimacy about three years ago when his marriage had become more than just slightly troubled.

He sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his tired face. "No, actually, it's not about that," he admitted, meeting Niamh's eyes. "It's about something else.”

Niamh raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, signaling for him to continue.

"It's my stepdaughter," he confessed, "I have some sort of feelings for her. Strong ones, Niamh. I didn't see it coming. It happened suddenly, and now, I don't know what to do about it," he explained and Niamh leaned forward in her chair, her gentle eyes meeting his.

"Go on," she asked quietly, her tone supporting and understanding.

"I am attracted to her, not just platonically or paternally. I want her sexually and I feel guilty about it. I have never felt this way about anyone while I have been married, you know, but now, every time I see her, I am overwhelmed by a need to -" Cillian broke off, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"It's okay, take your time," Niamh said gently, her words an invitation for him to continue when he was ready.

"Thank you," Cillian murmured, taking a deep breath. "It's just that, she's my stepdaughter and I know it's fucking wrong,"  he said, rubbing his hand over his face again.

"I assume that she is, uhm, your adult stepdaughter? Cliona? The one that has been living with you for a while?" Niamh asked after running through her notes, seeing that you had never been mentioned in these sessions before. 

"Cliona?" Cillian gasped. "No, it's her twin sister, Y/N. She moved in with us a few days ago," he replied, his voice filled with a sense of urgency.

"I see, and you are finding yourself attracted to her?" Niamh inquired, jotting down his response.

"Yes and it's making things really complicated. I haven't made a move. But when I am around her, I can't help but feel...enticed, and it's consuming me," Cillian admitted, his eyes lost in thought.

A moment of silence passed between them before Niamh spoke, "It's important to remember that feeling attraction to another person is not a crime, but acting on them in this situation can be problematic and harmful," she said gently.

Cillian nodded, taking that in. "I know, and I don't want to hurt her or my wife for that matter," he said, sighing deeply.

"Good. That's a healthy perspective," Niamh replied, nodding encouragingly.  "Now, let's explore this attraction you feel. What is it exactly about her that draws you in?"

Cillian sat up straighter, his gaze lost in thought as he tried to simply her feelings into words. "It's her intelligence and creativity I suppose. Her curiosity about the world is so captivating to watch," he explained, carefully choosing his words. "She's bold and there's a spark in her eyes - an unapologetic, fierce beauty - that I find incredibly attractive," Cillian confessed, his voice softening.

Niamh nodded, understanding the depth of his feelings. "It's understandable that you would be drawn to someone with those qualities. But as you already acknowldged, your feelings are complicated and can have serious consequences."

Cillian nodded solemnly, knowing that his feelings could potentially ruin his marriage and hurt his stepdaughter. "What should I do, Niamh? How do I move past this?" he asked desperately.

He was at a loss of what to do, and the guilt was consuming him.

"Firstly, Cillian, I want you to understand that it is completely normal to feel attracted to others, even if they are close to us." Niamh's voice was calm and reassuring, and Cillian felt a small sense of relief wash over him.  "So, it is important to take a step back and examine your feelings. Acknowledge them, process them, but above all, do not act on them until you have had a chance to carefully consider the consequences."

"I understand," Cillian said, nodding his head solemnly. "But how do I move past these feelings? Because I just want them to stop."  He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"I am afraid that you may not be able to ever truly move past these feelings," Niamh said gently. "And the only way forward, Cillian, is to address them, acknowledge them, accept them, and manage them."

Cillian took a deep breath, his voice filled with exhaustion. "Manage them, but how?" he asked, unsure of where to start.

"By making a conscious decision to distance yourself from her," Niamh replied, her voice firm but gentle. "Even in your own house, do not engage with her  unless absolutely necessary. Refrain from spending any unnecessary time with her. Focus on nurturing your relationship with your wife and your daughter Sadie."

Cillian nodded slowly, taking in her words. "Alright, I will try and do that ," he said, committing to the plan.

Niamh then leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady on him. "It's important to note that these feelings won't disappear overnight, Cillian. It will take time and hard work to manage them, but it's imperative that you do, for your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of your loved ones."

Cillian took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I know," he said quietly, feeling more resolved than ever to take control of the situation and do what was best for everyone involved.

Tags:

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@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Cale Snow's Chapter 233

TL;DR - Mila reassures Cale that the Rasheel problem was fine until an avalanche happens behind her. Raon catches the baby snake who clings to Cale and calls Cale its daddy. Rasheel is having a hard time against Kendall.

Runaway Rasheel The beginning was quite funny. Eruhaben called Mila to inquire what happened with Rasheel, and she reported that he took off after sensing a dragon, dragging Clopeh with him. But she reassured Cale that Witira followed them, so everything was going to be fine.

However, just as she said that, an explosion occurred in the background, and Cale saw from the video screen an avalanche occurring behind Mila. 😂 Yes, everything is fine, right, Mila-nim? 🤣🤣🤣

Cale is a Snake Dad?! The middle part was also hilarious. Raon caught the baby snake who was scared of dragons, so it rushed off to Cale and rubbed its face on Cale's cheek. King Dennis explained that it was the child of the white snake beastkin elder, the kingdom's guardian, and acted as a messenger.

But what the snake next shocked everyone. It called Cale as "daddy" and Raon heavily protested that his human was not the snake's daddy. 🤣🤣🤣 Raon also complained about the snake rubbing its face on Cale's cheek, saying to get away from his human because his human's skin was fragile. 😂 And when the puzzled Cale asked why he was called daddy, the baby snake replied that he smelled like its mommy. Cale was further confused and wondered if he smelled like a snake.

Misunderstanding happened again. Bailey said that she was sure Cale was not a dragon, but a human. However, this incident made her realize that Cale was a snake who failed to become a dragon, the so-called imoogi... 😂

Cale wanted to correct that, but realized he smelled like a snake because of the imoogi in the red crown he possessed. And Cale found out that the snake beastkin elder was actually an imoogi.

Rasheel Lost?! Finally, the scene I was waiting for was here, but not what I expected. Because it was Rasheel who was helpless against Kendall. Clopeh seemed to have escaped to report to the others what happened.

Anyway, it seemed like all the dragons except the traitor (past dragon) drank something called the holy water. This holy water seemed to be the reason why the dragons became stronger. Kendall asked Rasheel if he didn't drink the holy water because Rasheel felt 'very weak' to him.

Of course, our Rasheel was angry at being helpless, but was relieved when he thought Clopeh ran away to ask for reinforcements. But the problem was, he sensed a beastkin nearby, and Kendall did too. I guess this was the wolf beastmen that Lock's group visited, or it could be Lock's group itself.

Ending Remarks Lots of funny moments this chapter, but the ending was quite a surprise. Rasheel, hang in there! Cale's group will be heading soon!

P.S. It's already January 1 in my timezone, so Happy New Year, everyone! 🎉

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

The Proposal

Warnings: none? Lingerie is mentioned?

Shanks x GNreader

Word count: 1184

Chapter 1

You and Shanks have been dating forever, like since you were apprentices on Rogers' ship forever. In the decade-plus that you have been together, you've been patiently waiting for him to make the next move. But now you were starting to get impatient with him because you felt that your relationship has not progressed to the next stage. Granted you had no right to be annoyed with him since you didn't voice your feelings on the matter to him. Shanks always said he would want to get married one day and have a spouse, you just didn't understand what was taking him so long.

"You're glowering at the boss," Benn grumbled, leaning back in his chair as his grey eyes scrutinized your features. You bit your lip and weighed your option, ask Benn for advice and the possibility of the whole finding out, or talk to Shanks first.

"I need some advice, and you're Shanks's best friend, maybe you might have some insight." You mumble.

Benn took a drag off his cigarette and huffed, "Really? I thought you're his best friend, and I'm the one who's been third wheeling you two since you were teenagers."

"You're both of our best friends I guess, but you know how Shanks wants to one day get married?"

Benn's eyes got wide for a moment, and he darted to Shanks, as he replied, "vaguely recall him saying that when he was drunk a number of years ago. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just wondering why he hasn't proposed yet."

Benn rolled his eyes, sensing your insecurity, and groaned, "if you're really so impatient why don't you propose to him?" His words shocked you, why hadn't you thought of that? You've always been the one to initiate new things in your relationship. From asking him out when you were eleven, to asking if you can move into the same room when you were nineteen. It was always you making the first move, so why wouldn't marriage be any different?

When he realized you were actually considering it, you'd already thanked him for his insight, and gotten up to return to your room. Hongou came over and sat down in your chair, drunk as a skunk and grinning like an idiot. As he takes a swig from a bottle of rum,  he asks, "what's got you so slack-jawed?"

Benn put out his cigarette and got up, "I need to start planning a wedding, and...fuck I'm gonna need to get a camera."

A week later, despite the constant pestering from the crew's helmsmen, you finally settled on how and where you would propose. You planned to buy the ring on the next island and propose on the island after that, the Fern Kingdom. Which was famous for its brilliant foliage, deep fjords, crisp air, and copious waterfalls. But there was still one problem, you didn't know Shanks' ring size. When you expressed your issue with Benn, he pointed out all you had to do was to wait for him to fall asleep to get it.

"But he's such a light sleeper," you grumbled.

Benn leaned over the back of his chair, twisting to face you as you were curled up on the sofa in his office, he said, "what are you talking about? He sleeps like a log. I've literally dropped him down a flight of stairs carrying him back to your room after a party, and he didn't wake up."

"He only sleeps like that when he's drunk, which I suppose is often enough I shouldn't have a problem."

"Does he usually go to sleep with you sober? " Benn asked, "Because all the times we've shared sleeping quarters, he's always insisted he needs a nightcap to sleep."

"He sleeps best cuddled up to someone, but any way will you help me get the ring size if you encounter him passed out before I do." You inquired, putting the ring-sizing tape on his desk.  Benn nodded his head and tossed it in his cigarette box, and huffed, "If we need to we can always take him drinking before going ring shopping."

"You want to come with me to pick out the ring?"

Benn's sharp eyes flicked up t you as his expression soured, "of course, I'm coming with you to pick it out. There is no way in hell I'm letting you go without me. I've been with you two through most of the big steps in your relationship."

"You mean you were around when we were going through most of the big steps."

"No I mean I was with you, Shanks always had me follow along on your dates."

You blinked at him incredulously, "you really have been third-wheeling us."

Benn nodded, "yer damn right I have. I had to pep talk Shanks before you two boned the first time. I deserve to have input on y'alls wedding and engagement rings."

You held up your hands in surrender, and Benn tucked his cigarette box back into his pants pocket.



That night Benn kicked in the door to your bedroom, short of breath when he panted, "Shanks has passed out, but he's surrounded by the crew and I can't check his ring size without raising any questions. We'll have to do this as a team to get it." When you nodded your head and grabbed the sizer, Benn said, "Alright, I'll distract the crew while you get the ring size."

"Please one look at me, and they'll be too distracted by me to watch you get his size," You stated, opening your robe to show the lingerie and nightie underneath.

Benn clicked his tongue, "that'll work,” and followed after you as you glided down the hall.

The crew had gathered in the lounge area, bottles littered across almost every flat horizontal surface in the room that wasn’t the floor. Yassop, Lucky Roo, Hongou, and Lime Juice were gathered around Shanks passing a few markers back and forth drawing on their unconscious captain’s face. You put your hands on your hips and started to gently scold them like they were children. “Boys, what are you doing? That’s not nice. Benn would you carry him to our room?”

Benn snapped his fingers and muttered, “good idea.”

The group looked over their shoulders to see you playfully glaring at them, only vaguely registering Benn as he circled around. Yassop whistled, “god-damn, what’d Shanks do to earn this?”

You chuckled, “can’t I dress cute for myself?” Despite looking at the group as they abandoned their markers and drifted toward you, you were watching Benn sneak around and scoop up the redhead. 

Once Benn had him out of the room you excused yourself and went to your room. Where you found Benn had haphazardly thrown Shanks half on and half off the bed and was fitting the sizer around his ring finger. 

“He’s a size 10,” he announced, glancing over at you expectantly. When you stared at him, he rolled his eyes, “well write it down, 'cause neither of us will remember, and we’ll have to get him drunk again, which’ll cost a fortune.”

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[juliakristeva]

ed tw and discussions of weight/weight loss

i have recently been thinking about beginning to take my recovery more seriously: to be fully honest, i am approaching thirty, the cycles i go through are starting to take a really serious toll on my body as i lose my resiliency, but its kind of insane because the world around us literally engages in this constant sadistic abuse of women with eating disorders, lol. i know exactly why i have an eating disorder. i can date exactly when it started. but every time i have sought help for it professionals, the industry of fixing eating disorders, is more interested in getting me to eat, or getting me to a healthy weight (whether that is losing or gaining weight), getting me to be a functional participant in the very culture that is perpetuating my problem in the first place, than they are in inquiring why i starve myself. people, and especially people on tumblr, really do not like to have these conversations, but patriarchy is a system that makes your body reducible to labour value. your body is a marketplace. especially if you have a uterus, or you perform your gender in a way that traditionally approximates having a uterus. womanhood, with everything that it entails- from childbirth to sex to being thin to how we dress- is effectively a labour marketplace that we are forced to participate in on top of other forms of labour, like having a job or keeping a roof over your head. unfortunately the systems put in place to help people recover from eating disorders, and to treat mental health disorders too, participate readily in that marketplace in the sense that they are more interested in creating functional, viable workers and exploitable resources (worker suggests you are still seen as a person, a resource is just a thing to be used, which women's bodies are regardless of agab) than they are in healing people. they want bodies that are commodifiable in the marketplace, that work right and look right, not actualized people.

[fallout4-reacts]

k-peasants asked: An actual prompt this time! I know you're busy and have plenty of things to write yet, take your time. Soo I was thinking that maybe companions (and Maxson) horribly failing at confessing to Sole. Like for example they could clear out some Raiders, companion is impressed, tries to confess BAM Sole gets fucking decked by random raider they didn't kill. I feel like you could get pretty creative with that one. Like deathclaws, something exploding, just settlers running in, other companions interrupting etc.

Let's play some game... (Warning : Curie may be intense)

Part 5

Cait / Codsworth / Curie / Dogmeat / Maxson

(Part 1 : Danse, Deacon, Nick Valentine)

(Part 2 : Hancock, Preston, Strong)

(Part 3 : X6-88 alone because of a bug)

(Part 4 : Gage, MacCready, Piper)

Cait : Cait and Sole return quietly to Sanctuary. The path ahead of them is still long, but for the time being, silence is fine. Well, not for very long. After everything that has happened, the fighter remains silent mostly because she is at a loss for words.

It was a shock to discover all of her senses after hiding from reality with Psycho for so long. However, she is currently experiencing one of her most agonizing torments.

Her feelings toward Sole.

It's made even worse by what they just did for her.

Finally, approaching Oberland Station, she urged a stop.

"Pee?" inquires Sole mockingly.

"Talking," Cait says, feeling uneasy.

They notify a nearby tree stump and settle there.

"What do you need to talk about?" inquires the vault dweller.

Cait watches the Charles flows down below, looking for her words.

"You are aware of all that has occurred since Tommy. And right there, you've changed my life. That is a lot."

Sole is worried, but quickly gets back their empathetic look.

"If you want to step back..."

Cait instantly raises her hand and places it on their shoulder.

"No! No, it is not that."

Sole throws themself on the young woman, causing them to fall backwards behind the tree trunk. Cait has a fleeting thought that something is happening far more unexpectedly than she had anticipated. But her thoughts are swiftly brought back to reality when the grenade explodes where they were.

"Gunner?" she inquired.

"Raider!"

As she stood up, the warrior smiled with all of her teeth, holding her baseball bat.

Codsworth : His programming doesn't include it. His programming doesn't include it. In his code, it is not included; he is well aware of the fact that it is not included in his programming.

Not to mention feelings of isolation, agony, and dread, as well as the happiness of seeing his master/mistress come back.

He is a robot, a straightforward bot that was programmed to perform chores around the house. He became an integral part of Sole's day-to-day activities and routines.

Not just as a robot.

As a friend, as a member of the family, and as a close relative.

Far too close.

Yes, it is too close.

As he hands the towel to Sole as they emerge from the shower, he looks aside. This is not something that is programmed into his algorithm. It is not something that he does habitually. In any case, it wasn't. It's mainly now due to the fact that he had never experienced this sort of static that now grabs him whenever Sole touches him or leans in front of him to collect an instrument or a tool, and it is a thousand times worse when Sole undresses. Because he is a domestic robot, then Sole never felt embarrassed by Codsworth's presence.

Today, however, Codsworth is feeling ashamed.

He feels so awful.

He has to explain it to Sole.

With the help of Sole, perhaps they will be able to fix this programming issue and restore it to its previous state.

Normal.

This is not the kind of feeling that he was designed to receive!

"Mom/Sir, would you mind if we opted to have a conversation?"

As soon as Sole reaches for the towel, they drape it around their waist.

"Yes, indeed, Cods, guy. What is the problem here? There is a decreasing supply of Radstag? Would you like me to find some sugar? Is the Assaultron I brought from the hills still making fun of you?"

The Mister Handy's accessories turns three times around him. He adopts a collected tone of voice and makes an effort to ease the peculiar vibrating that his machinery is experiencing.

"In all honesty, none of that is accurate."

This time, the human is unable to stand any longer. They sense that their robot exhibits some abnormal behavior. A pair of pants and a t-shirt are chosen at random by them, and they swiftly put on the trousers.

As they sit on their mattress, Sole lets out a sigh.

“So, I get that this is a very sensitive thing.”

"Very sensitive, to say the least. I am aware that it may come off as unconventional, absurd, or even unpleasant, but it appears that... I have developed a certain... as one may say, some instinct that typically corresponds to humans."

Sole raise an eyebrow once more.

"Typical to humans? Describe it."

At this point, Codsworth musters up all his bravery and takes a deep breath. In doing so, he sits down on the bed next to Sole in the same manner as a typical person would sit down. The one and only issue is that he may have forgets that he is a Mister Handy. Consequently, the bed in question happens to catch fire, Sole still be sitting on it.

They leap on their feet as the fire has quickly spread to them, and they cry out in pain throughout the process. As Codsworth's anxiety levels rise, he makes a mad dash to find a bucket of water at the pace of his truster. By doing so, he arrives at the conclusion that viewing himself as a human being is extremely risky, and that it would be more prudent for him to initiate a defragmentation of his personality module before it progresses to an excessive degree.

Curie : For a while now, the synth has noticed the difference. She understands that having a human body provides her with not only abilities to better explore the world around her, but also the opportunity to explore a complete intrinsic world in the same way.

Some sentiments and emotions.

And out of emotion, she realized she had a tremendous feeling for Sole.

This exploration was everything but subtle. She even felt upset at her friend, initially unable to comprehend why her thoughts kept returning to them.

Curie realized that she had romantic feelings for Sole. The trouble with this delicate circumstance is that Sole is the only person with whom she feels safe discussing her heart's torments. So, the only way out of this dilemma is to confront them and disclose everything.

Curie is still anxious.

And she is completely unaware that this is normal.

She coughs to catch the attention of her companion, who is working with Clem to erect a retaining beam to keep an artificial ceiling over the cave containing Vault 88.

"I can talk to you?" she asks timidly.

Sole rests their shoulder against the massive iron and rubber framework, wiping their brow.

"Is it critical?" they asked her, beckoning Clem to assist them.

"I believe so. It's quite significant.

Sole sighed. Curie believes that now is not the moment, but she fears that she will lose her mind if she doesn't speak. She sighs lightly.

"I understand you are busy…"

"A little, yes," replies her friend. However, their tone has softened significantly. "Curie, you appear to be dealing with a personal issue. If it seems vital to you, speak out. You know I'm always there for you."

Clem looks at the synth and seems to believe that this is the worst moment of the existence for a small talk. But the young man would never dare to oppose Sole, so he attempts to assist them maintain the pillar.

"Here it is. For some time now, I've been experiencing a peculiar storm inside of me, which is causing me to lose control. And you. I think about you all the time. I can't stop. I can't comprehend. I understand, but..."

Curie pauses and quickly looks up at Sole. Her companion has shifted their expression. Their gaze appears even more compassionate than before. They place one hand on the massive pillar to keep it in place and clear their throat.

"If I understand what you're saying—

"The ceiling!" Clem wails simultaneously, springing back.

Sole looks up at the pillar, and Curie's brain detects an unexpected alteration in their face. From affection to fear, the synth barely has time to understand what happens when a massive rock detaches from the ceiling and falls squarely on Sole.

She is so shocked that she can no longer hear Clem's screams of horror.

Dogmeat : "Wouf! Wouf wouf wouf wouf!"

"What?"

"Wouf!"

"Oh, I love you too, my too cute puppy!"

Elder Maxson : It's an unusual idea, but not an unpleasant one. Anyway, Sole has a lot of odd, but successful, ideas.

Maxson enjoys this short walk along the edge of Nordhagen Beach. His Knight urged that Maxson attend the meeting with the settlers' delegate. They had a difficult negotiation, but the BoS is now confident of a steady supply for the remainder of their tenure in the Commonwealth.

Then night fell as they respectfully celebrated alongside the locals.

Then, with the moon high in the sky, Sole insisted on having this little walk.

Maxson finds the trek pleasant... romantic?

He glances toward Danse, who is patrolling the area to ensure that the moment is not squandered, and then turns to his subordinate, who has stopped while perceiving his expression.

"Is something wrong, Elder?"

"On the opposite, or it depends."

Sole didn't appear to be reassured by the answer. The commander clears his throat and attempts a benign grin.

"I reflected on this atmosphere, landscape, and moment. Everything is just perfect."

'Perfect, indeed,' says Sole, distractedly.

Maxson insists, "In perfect company."

The Minutemen General's gaze is once again drawn to their superior. They appear to hesitate before smiling slightly but say nothing.

"What I mean—

"I understand what you mean. I'd have to be stupid, deaf, or blind to miss what you mean."

Arthur frowns. Sole's tone is not hostile, yet their response is uncommon.

"Do I understand that my feelings for you are not shared?"

"Oh, I apologize. It was rude of me. I must have become a little wild while wandering this land, mostly alone. I'm sorry for offending you."

Maxson grabs Sole's hand in his.

“So if I said to you—

"The code of conduct prohibits fraternization between superiors and subordinates," Danse's voice abruptly cut him off.

Maxson almost curses the man beneath his beard, but he stands straight with dignity and strives to maintain his demeanor.

"—that I am very pleased with the conclusion of this transaction and that it is now time to return to the Prydwen?"

When Sole gets their hand back, they can't help but smile faintly. They exchange a glance with Danse.

Maxson then understands.

He curses himself.

[sadisticpussies]

He’s in Las Vegas, exasperatedly laboring through hour three of his eight hour shift as a bartender at the Herbs & Rye restaurant — his tolerance for the day had already exceeded its limit after an unfortunate encounter with a group of white collar men who’d made a complaint to his manager about his poor work ethic and his uncanny sarcasm.

His boss, Thomas, had pulled him to the side to quietly reprimand him, sternly reminding Shawn that he was on strike two and if he were to get another complaint from one more customer that his employment would be terminated. It’s not like he necessarily needed this job because just like the others, they’d been temporary; sufficing him just enough for food and for him to save enough so he can move onto the next town.

But he’s only been here for a week; barely managing to save enough to survive off of anything except for microwaveable tv dinners and canned ravioli due to the lackluster minimum wage. He couldn’t afford to lose this job so quickly, especially considering that he was planning on going to Tijuana and already had an itinerary full of mischief that required at least $1,000 to indulge in.

He’s fixing a customer another drink; Stacy, who’d stumbled in an hour earlier solemnly confessing to him about her recent discovery of her husband’s infidelity, she’d chugged down to full glasses Smirnoff gulping them down without a burning wince as she continuously divulged about her marital problems when he heard Thomas beckoning his name in attention.

“Spencer, how many times have I told you about the rules against personal calls while on the clock?” He was sauntering up to Shawn, irritation’s evident across his face as he points a finger at him. “You’re treading on a very thin line here,” He forewarns, much to Shawn’s confusion.

“Personal call?” He wasn’t expecting anyone to call; the only person who knows where he currently is is his mother and he knows that the retreat she had gone to didn’t allow cellphones of any kind for her to make a phone call to him.

Thomas wasn’t amused by Shawn’s confusion, his irritation only accrued as he rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb over his shoulder where the kitchen was. “It’s some guy saying he’s your father. Said he needed to talk to you. Make it quick.” He avers, narrowing his eyes at Shawn before turning away to attend to a customer who has his glass raised midair and calls out for a refill.

Shawn’s confusion heightens as he ponders on why his father was suddenly seeking contact with him. It’s been four years since he’s last seen him; the communication between then was minimal with it being mostly brief exchanges of Shawn assuring his father that yes he is alive and no he hadn’t done something outlandish like join a cult as his father often presumed.

It was never long before their conversations transitioned into arguments — his father’s disdain about Shawn’s abrupt decision to leave after high school instead of attending college or enrolling in the police academy and Shawn’s disdain about his father ruining their family by divorcing his mother was always the reason. They’d bicker; spewing accusations and hurtful insults at each other until one of them got too tired of arguing and would hang up.

His mother would often call to check in, inquiring about his health and safety, avid to hear about what new sites he’s seen in his travels. And like always she’d try to absolve the tension between him and his father, attempting to convince Shawn to seek out contact with him first and have an actual conversation (that didn’t include arguing) but her efforts were futile because Shawn was always haste to refuse, still too upset with his father to even think about reconciliation.

He already felt drained from today, dealing with Thomas and the restaurant full of rude and entitled customers he doesn’t think he has the energy to argue with his father. He assures Thomas of a quick return before sauntering off to the back to retrieve the phone. He picks it up, pressing one hand against his ear to shield the noisiness ricocheting from the front.

“Dad, whatever this is about I can’t deal with it right now. I’m at work—” He peers up, seeing Thomas impatiently tapping his finger against his watch as he mouthed hurry up. Shawn nods, turning away as he rolls his eyes in frustration. “I’ve gotta get back,”

“Shawn,”

“Dad—I have to go,” He avers, removing the phone from his ear and preparing to hang it back on its hook until he hears something that makes him halt. He brings the phone back up to his ear, exhaling a trembling breath. “W-What did you just say?”

He’d heard him faintly, only hearing the end of his father’s sentence but that’s all he needed to be immediately drawn back into the conversation. Gus had emanated from his father’s mouth, it was a name that had solemnly become unrecognizable to him over the span of these few years. Just like his father, Shawn had ceased much of the communication with Gus as well; only sending emails, postcards and letters to him twice every month to fill him in on the current adventures in his life.

The strain in their friendship wasn’t intentional. Shawn escaped from Santa Barbara the day after graduating hoping to find some semblance of meaning in his life. His mother had just left and Gus was scheduled to leave for college afterwards, Shawn felt like he didn’t have a reason to stay in the place that took everyone he loved away from him. He’s thought about returning back, but he relented and succumbed to his fears of facing Gus again; knowing that it wouldn’t be easy to reconcile after leaving him for so long.

He hates himself for leaving like that; abrupt and impulsively, without even saying goodbye to Gus. He shudders at to think about what Gus thinks of him — how angry and upset and hurt he probably was to wake up the next morning and hear from his father that Shawn had left.

He’s never been good at goodbyes, he hates them. But he knows Gus at least deserved that.

There’s a lump that thickens and expands in his throat, his hands shake as he clutches the phone. He’s trying to settle his nerves but the pounding in his ears is so loud that it’s hard to hear what his fathers saying. He didn’t need to hear much because after the words “Gus” and “accident” were mentioned, Shawn was already hanging up the phone and untangling the knot from the apron that was tied around his waist. His hands were shaking so much that he fumbled with the knot, cursing loudly in frustration as he pulled and tugged at it.

He hears the heavy gait of footsteps approaching behind him that’s accompanied by the shrilly timbre of Thomas’ voice, “It’s been five minutes now, you need to get out there and…where do you think you’re going?” He questions, perching his hands akimbo as he watched Shawn toss the apron aside then hurriedly retreat to the break room.

He returns seconds later, his helmet and jacket in hand.

Shawn’s mind feels skewed; he’s panicking, can barely focus on anything at the moment and there are tears gathering in the back of his pupils blurring his vision. “I uh, I have to go. My best friend, he’s been in an accident and I have to go see him.” He shrugs his arms through the jacket, patting the right pocket and digging inside to retrieve his keys.

“Go?” Thomas inquired in bewilderment; completely apathetic at Shawn’s earlier sentiments. “We’re short staffed tonight and we don’t have anyone to cover your shift. You can’t go!”

And if Shawn wasn’t stretched on time and wasn’t desperately trying to hurry up to Gus he would’ve vehemently spewed a few derogatory remarks at Thomas for his lack of consideration and human decency. But instead, he only brushes past Thomas as he makes his abrupt departure out of the back door.

…

He’s certain that he’s broken every road law known to man; making illegal passings through lanes, squeezing past rows of cars stuck in traffic and accelerating the motorcycle to a speed he didn’t even know it could reach as he reeved up the gas and sped down the highway. He arrives outside of the hospital a few hours later, hurriedly turning off the ignition and climbing off of the bike after finding an empty parking space.

He takes off in a sprint towards the front entrance inadvertently pushing past a man that’s hobbling on a pair of crutches — who curses loudly at Shawn when he nearly loses his balance and stumbles clumsily.

“Jackass!” The man scolded; the screeching of his crutches dragging across the tiled floors ricochets throughout the room.

He absentmindedly disregards the man’s reprimand as he ran towards the nurse’s station. The woman behind the desk is occupied on the phone, alternating between typing on the keyboard of her computer and filing patient reports. When she looks up at notices Shawn, she holds her finger up in the air and murmurs “one moment,” before continuing her conversation.

Shawn’s impatience immediately wears thin, her conversation has been going on too long and she’s yet to bother acknowledging him again. He’s tempted to interrupt her conversation and demand that she attend to his needs, but he purses his lips in a thinned frown to prevent himself from projecting his anger onto her and continued to (im)patiently wait. After what felt like an eternity, the nurse’s conversation ends and she’s putting the phone back on its hook and greeting him in welcome.

“Hello, sir. How may I help you?”

“I need to see someone who was admitted a few hours ago; his name is Burton Guster. He was in an accident and I have to see him.”

The nurse nods as her fingers type deftly onto the keyboard again. “He’s still getting looked over so you’ll have to wait,” She informs him before directing him towards the waiting area.

Shawn slumps into one of the rigid-cushioned chairs, with his leg bouncing and his teeth nervously biting at his nails, he stares at the round clock that’s hung decoratively on the alabaster colored walls, heeding at the hands as they ticked with each passing minute.

He’s trying to focus: his mind repeats a litany of he’s okay, to distract himself from the possibilities that awaited. Gus is okay because he had to be — because Shawn knows that the universe wouldn’t punish him so cruelly like this, it wouldn’t take his best friend from him in such a macabre way. It wouldn’t do this knowing that Shawn hasn’t had a chance to apologize yet.

No.

Gus is okay.

He wouldn’t accept any other fate.

…

His ass has started to get numb from sitting in the chair for so long and his impatience starts withering again. It’s been nearly two hours already and there has yet to be any developments regarding Gus status. Shawn’s been getting up and walking to the nurses station every fifteen minutes asking if Gus had been moved out of surgery and into a room yet but every time she only tells him that she’s only allowed to disclose that information to immediate family. He understands that it’s hospital protocol and whatnot but he’s becoming more and more peeved.

He’s offered some sense of relief when he looks towards the front entrance and sees Mr. and Mrs. Guster trekking through the doors. The same worry and panic that paralyzed him was written all over their countenances as well, Mrs. Guster was sobbing as she held tightly onto her husband’s arm.

They exchange a few words with the nurse and before he knows it, he’s seeing the door towards the back being buzzed open.

Shawn hurriedly clambers to his feet and approaches the Gusters.

“Mr. and Mrs. G!” They both halt at the exclamation of their names, turning around to see who was seeking their attention. There’s a look of aghast when they see Shawn standing athwart from them.

“Shawn?” Mrs. Guster asks, voice gruff and scratchy from all of the crying she’d done. She brings the wad of tissue that was in her other hand, up to her red nose and dabs away the snot that spilled. “What are you doing here?”

He winces at the incredulity behind her words. It saddens him knowing that his parents are this surprised that he showed up. He knows he hasn’t been around much these past few years but surely they had to know that something as vital as this was going to incite haste Shawn’s return. But with the way they’re looking so perplexed at him, like he’s a stranger, instead of their son’s childhood best friend that they’ve known for years says otherwise.

(He’d dwell on this heartbreaking realization later. He had to make sure Gus was okay first.)

“My dad called and told me what happened. I came to see him. Did anyone tell you anything? Is-Is he okay?”

They share a brief look like they’re wary of disclosing the information to him. It fucking hurts that he’s suddenly become this outsider to them as if he wasn’t an intricate part of Gus’ life. He did leave but why did they act as if his existence hadn’t meant anything to them or Gus?

“He’s stable and awake,” Mr. Guster finally admits, thankfully easing Shawn’s concerns. “They said that it was okay to go see him,”

He nods, giving them a pleading look that begged them to allow him to accompany them to the back. Because he doesn’t know how much longer he can sit here waiting, and although he knows that they’ve assured him that Gus was safe, Shawn wouldn’t be fully content until he actually saw Gus and could confirm it himself.

Mr. Guster sighs, looking down at his wife before averting his eyes back onto Shawn. “You’re welcome to come back if you’d like.”

And that’s all he needed to hear before he’s following behind them as they lead the way down the corridor to Gus’ room.

Mrs. Guster approaches first, bringing her hand up midair and rapting a gentle knock against the door. A few seconds pass by before they hear a rasped, “Come in,” that she her pulling at the handle and swinging the door open.

Albeit relief calms him when he actually sees Gus, Shawn could also feel his throat baring and his eyes watering at the sight of Gus. It’s been four years and six months since he’s seen him; he still looked the same but his face has chiseled and he’s grown into his features. He’s got more hair since the last time Shawn’s seen him; hair that’s styled in a hightop boxed coif. Shawn sidestepped around Mrs. Guster and gauges a fuller view at Gus — he’s sprawled out on the small hospital bed, his legs are dangling off of the edge swallowing up the last inch of space that’s available. He’s got a thin wool blanket swathed across his lap, his arms wrapped in a cast that’s balanced on a small pillow that’s tucked underneath for leverage.

Gus is laid with his eyes fluttered close, nearly half dazed from the medication they fed him. Upon hearing the knocking and his mother’s loud sob of relief, he opens them, blinking rapidly trying to clear his fogged vision. He smiles sheepishly at his parents, but then his eyes wander behind them at Shawn and his smile is substituted for a moue, causing Shawn to recoil away slightly.

He lowers his eyes, abashed and chagrined, condemning himself for foolishly thinking Gus would be elated at his return.

“Shawn?” And it’s so pathetic but his breath hitches when he hears his name fall off of Gus’ lips, at the way he could practically hear the emotion through his tenor as he called out to him. It’s surprisingly tender and soft and Shawn can’t remember the last time he’s ever heard such affection in someone’s voice.

Maybe he hadn’t completely ruined things between them like he assumed.

He remains stood off to the side as the Guster’s bombarded their son with questions, inquiring about the accident and assessing his wounds. Gus repeatedly assured them that he was fine, stating that it was an accident that occurred after another car abruptly drove out into traffic. Shawn smiled adoringly as he watched as Gus’ mother attentively adjusted Gus’ pillows and maneuvered around the small room fixing things.

“Mom, I’m okay,” Gus reiterated for the fifth time that day after his mother tried to buzz a nurse in when Gus placed too much weight on his arm and yelped out in pain when he felt the throbbing pain shooting up his arm.

“It certainly didn’t sound like you’re okay!” She laments, frowning as her finger hovered over the big, red button, contemplating if she should defy against her son’s wishes and call for the nurse to look over him regardless of his asks.

“I just moved too quick that’s all. I promise.” She looked at him disbelieving, knowing that he was probably only saying that to alleviate her worries. Nonetheless, she conceded and had followed behind her husband when he led them out of the room to grab some coffee from the cafeteria.

When the Guster’s leave, it’s just him and Gus alone. Shawn’s still standing hovered by the doorway with his hands shoved inside the front pockets of his jeans and his eyes shyly meets Gus’. He wants to speak, to go over and throw his arms around Gus and tell him that he’s glad he’s okay, but he feels like his feet are cemented to the ground and his tongue feels so thick in his mouth that it causes his throat to dry and he’s suddenly struggling to form a coherent sentence.

It’s Gus that finally breaks the silence between them. He’s shifting on the bed again, trying to maneuver around to a more comfortable laying position and ends up inadvertently hitting his arm against the bed’s railing that has him wincing in pain again.

“I’m good,” He’s haste to assure Shawn whose eyes widened in worry and feet managed to miraculously find their strength to move as he was already at Gus’ bedside, reaching for his arm to help him. His hands quickly retract at Gus’ words and are being shoved back into his pockets again. Silence lingers between them again only briefly before Gus begins speaking again. “How’d you find out?” He murmurs softly in curiosity.

“My dad,”

Gus eyebrows furrow in an indiscernible gesture. He reaches forward, grabbing at the small cup full of ice water. “Right. Well, you didn’t have to come all the way back here. I’m sure you’re eager to go back to Washington or wherever you’re at now.” There’s no hostility or malice embedded in Gus’ words. It’s just a melancholic lilt that Shawn recognizes that has him guilt ridden and apologetic. His absence has made Gus think that he’s stopped caring for/about him when that was furthest from the truth.

“Gus—” He begins, but Gus is already interrupting him rebutting otherwise.

“It’s fine, Shawn. I’m okay. It’s just a broken arm, nothing serious.”

At this, Shawn guffaws in frustration because how could Gus trivialize this? He doesn’t know the sheer terror Shawn felt when he heard about the accident, how he was afraid that he would lose him and now here Gus was just brushing everything off in nonchalance and trying to push him away. And he tries not to but he does get angry with Gus, because how could he truly think that Shawn didn’t care about him?

“No, it’s not okay. I came here because I was worried about you, Gus. I was scared that you’d—” He shakes his head, swallowing down the remainder of that sentence. It was too painful to think let alone vocalize aloud. “I know that I haven’t been here but that doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you,”

He sees Gus’ mouth purse and his eyebrows furrow, like he’s contemplating on whether he actually believes Shawn’s words. He’s feeling defeated, already self deprecating at how he’d managed to single-handedly ruined the only stable relationship in his life.

He wouldn’t be Shawn if he didn’t fuck up good things.

But then, Gus is looking at him and his eyes soften as he murmurs, “Thanks for coming,”

…

Shawn stays in Santa Barbara for the rest of the week. He stays in a motel downtown, refusing his father’s offer to stay at home instead. That was one relationship he wasn’t as avid to reconcile with just yet, there was still unresolved issues that resided between them, issues that he held his father solely responsible for that he wasn’t ready to address.

He was here for Gus and wanted to focus on that not any other issues.

The first day, they’d caught up more with each other, telling the other everything that wasn’t mentioned in their emails or letters. It was bittersweet listening to Gus rave about his college experience, hearing about all the friends he’s made, all the things he’s done.

Shawn felt sad that he hadn’t been there with Gus to experience those things with. He remembers in middle school, they’d talk about all the parties they would go to whenever they got to college, how they’d be roommates (because they knew no one else could handle living either of them; Gus was too OCD and Shawn was messy and snored loudly, or at least that’s what he’s heard from Gus.) then graduate and get married and live next door to each other.

At the time of his departure, he didn’t consider his leaving as a blunder in their plan. He’d been too focused on running away from his problems to even think about that.

Gus then told him about a new job that he recently started as a pharmaceutical salesman that apparently paid more than all of Shawn’s minimum wage jobs combined. It paid enough for Gus to rent one of those luxury apartments with a gym and a pool that Shawn’s always wanted.

He was happy for Gus, really.

He was also really fucking sad that he missed out on so much.

On the second day, they spent the entire day playing board and card games — apparently time at college gave Gus enough time to learn how to gamble because he managed to beat Shawn in poker twice but Shawn redeemed himself in Monopoly and Candyland.

Shawn snuck in some Chinese takeout that they secretly ravished after Gus complained about the hospital food. The nurse stumbled in upon their slaughter and reprimanded them for it much to their amusement. Afterwards, they watched reruns of Three Stooges and it was so ridiculous and overly cartoonish in its comedy but they laughed at every single joke.

Gus ended up succumbing to his exhaustion a little later in the night, laying with his head tucked on the pillow as he breathed softly through his parted lips. Shawn looked over at Gus and felt his heart clench as he inwardly pondered how he could ever reconcile with the fact that he’d willingly gone four years without his best friend, without the person he cared for the most in the entire world.

It’s a question he thinks he’ll never be able to answer.

On the third day, things between them become familiar and normal. It starts to feel like they’re Shawn and Gus again as a whole not as separates anymore and Shawn doesn’t think he’s ever been happier than he is right now.

On the fourth day is when Shawn realizes a few things. They’re in Gus’ room again and he’s finally being discharged after being cooped up in the fight fitted room and barely surviving off of watered down meatloaf and stale bread for nearly a week. Shawn’s in the room, skimming through a magazine waiting for Gus to finished getting dressed so that they could go out into the front while they waited for his parents, when he hears the bathroom door being pulled open.

“Shawn?” He looks up to see Gus’ head poked out of the door, his expression flushed as his chest heaved. “I need your help. I’m trying to finish getting ready but this damn cast makes everything harder.”

Shawn set the magazine down as he clambered to his feet. “Are you sure you want my help because you wouldn’t even take off your shirt in front of me when we used to go swimming,” He teases lightheartedly, smiling at the flustered expression in Gus’ face as he says this.

“That was different. I was younger and still getting used to my developing body. Just come in here!” He avers, grabbing Shawn’s arm and tugging him into the bathroom as he closes the door behind them.

It’s not like he was staring per se, but he’d certainly taken heed at Gus body. He was standing in the middle of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs that complimented him fittingly, the material snug around his hips. He’d apparently started working out during some time in between his adolescence and early adulthood because Gus now had abs that were chiseled and taut; and when he turned around to pick up his shirt that had fallen to the floor, Shawn could see the muscles in his back flex as he moved.

His eyes appreciatively gauge at Gus’ seemingly fit physique wondering when the hell did that happen.

Shawn hurriedly averts his eyes, managing to look away just before Gus turns back around to face him. “I thought it wouldn’t be so bad with a broken arm but this fucking sucks,” He complains, extending the shirt out to Shawn who hikes up the hem and shimmies it over Gus’ head, tugging it down and over his torso.

He ignores the flutter in his stomach when his fingers brush over Gus’ stomach.

“Do you need me to stay over and help you for a while?” He offers, his mind only briefly wanders back on his job knowing that he would probably be unemployed by the time he returns which meant that Tijuana was going to be postponed for the time being but staying with Gus was worth it.

Gus smiles sheepishly, looking over at Shawn. “Thanks, but I know you’re probably ready to go back to Las Vegas.”

Shawn pulls the shirt all the way down over Gus’ abdomen, frowning a bit at his words. “No, I mean I’m not in a rush to go back. I can stay, I want to stay here for you if you need me.”

Please need me.

“Are you planning on seeing your dad?” Gus posits in curiosity, seemingly subverting the topic of conversation so quickly that it has Shawn wondering why Gus was so hesitant in letting him stay over. He knows that it’s still going to take some time to fully get all of Gus’ trust back but he thought that these past few days were showing some progress.

“Uh, no. I think it’s best if we stay away from each other for the time being.��

“It’s been four years. How much longer do you need?” Gus rebuttals; and okay, maybe he’s right but his relationship with his father was complicated and definitely something that he didn’t want to talk or think about right now.

Gus sighs, “The only reason I ask is because I’ve seen him around Shawn. As much as you think he doesn’t like you, he seems pretty miserable to me that you’re gone.”

Shawn guffaws softly at this, “Yeah, right.” He murmurs disbelieving, reminiscing on the fight they’d had the night before he left home where Henry explicitly said that he couldn’t wait until Shawn left because then he wouldn’t have to deal with the headache of him being around anymore. “He doesn’t miss me, Gus. He’s glad that I’m gone, trust me.”

Gus only shakes his head before eventually dropping the conversation, knowing that it was futile in trying to convince Shawn of otherwise. “Alright…this might be a little more complicated and uncomfortable,” He surmises, nudging his chin outwardly towards the pair of sweatpants that his mother had packed for him.

Shawn grabbed the sweatpants and stood in front of Gus. He extended the sweatpants out, making it easy for Gus to slide a leg in each pant leg. Gus nearly tumbles and instinctively reaches a hand out, resting it onto Shawn’s waist to anchor his fall. “Sorry,” Gus murmurs, fitting his other leg into the pant leg.

Shawn tugged at the waistband, pulling it further up Gus’ legs when he’s gotten them both all the way in the sweats. His fingers inadvertently brush against Gus’ cock when he’s adjusting the sweatpants around his waist and he feels his face immediately blush in a deep crimson color. He gauges a quick look up at Gus, peeking at him underneath the wisps of his eyelashes — Gus is looking up at the ceiling, biting on his lower lip as he avoided Shawn’s gaze.

“Sorry, I was—”

“No it’s—”

“—I wasn’t trying to—”

“—Shawn—”

“Gus!” Both Shawn and Gus pause at the shrilly shriek of someone calling out his name. They exchange confused looks until realization dawns upon Gus who’s now using his freehand to roughly pull his pants up the remainder of the way. He’s reaching for the doorknob and is making a haste egress seconds later, walking out to greet the approaching woman.

Shawn follows behind Gus out of the bathroom, barely making it halfway into the room before he’s blindsided with the sight of Gus and a woman kissing vehemently in the middle of the room. Gus has his arm around her waist while she’s got her hands on his face, pulling him closer as their kisses became more feverish. “What are you doing here?!” Gus asks, his sentences barely coherent between the woman’s kisses.

“You didn’t think I was going to not come see you, did you?!” She mutters, pecking his lips thrice before eventually pulling away to look him over. “Aw, my poor baby,” She coos, brushing her thumb over his cheek as he leans into her touch.

Shawn stood there quietly watching their embrace. Throughout the entire duration of the past few days, Gus has never once mentioned having a girlfriend or dating anyone. So, it’s a little surprising to see him with someone like this, holding and kissing her so affectionately. He harrumphed softly, capturing their attention because they’d gotten so enraptured in each other that they nearly forgot about his presence.

The woman peers over Gus’ shoulder and looks at Shawn. She smiles, wide and toothy, bringing her hand mid-air as she gestures a wave. “Hi, I’m Mira!”

The first impression of her is that she’s unnecessarily cheery (he knows he sounds like a grinch saying this, but how can someone be this enthusiastic all of the time even he has his limits and often broods to balance it all out.)

Shawn waves back, thinning his lips into a feeble smile. “Shawn,” His eyes linger downward to Gus’ hand as it descends to her lower backside. She giggles, playfully nudging at his shoulder before shifting her attention back into Shawn.

“Shawn! Do you want to see the ring my pookiebear Gus got for me?” She gasps, already making her way over towards him much against Gus’ dismay as he reaches for her to attempt to stop her with hushed exclaims of ‘no, no, no, Mira!’ but she maneuvers out of his reach and saunters up to Shawn, holding her hand up in the air and displaying a small diamond ring that’s decorating her finger. “He got it for me after the wedding. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Shawn looks up at Gus who gives him an apologetic smile and only shrugs in response.

His mind couldn’t even begin to fathom the fact that Gus is married. Not only did he neglect to mention the fact that he’d been dating, but that he liked the woman enough to marry her as well at a wedding that he didn’t receive an invitation to or have any knowledge about. Or the painful realization of Gus apparently not wanting Shawn to know about it either from the way he tried to stop Mira from telling him about it.

Shawn couldn’t believe that this is what their friendship looked like now; hidden secrets and minimal communication between them.

If you would’ve told younger Shawn that he would end up losing Gus as a friend when they’re older, he would laughed in your face at the ridiculous absurdity of that comment. Adult Shawn isn’t laughing, he’s heartbroken and upset. He swallows the thick lump that’s stuck in his throat, nodding his head as she masqueraded his heartbreak behind a false smile.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s really great.”

Mira giggles again before practically skipping her way back over to Gus, “Are you almost ready to go? I told your mom we’d go by the house for dinner tonight since she let me pick you up instead,”

He nods, “Yeah. I just have to sign a few discharge papers first.”

Mira nodded as she grabbed Gus’ duffle bag and slung the straps over her shoulder. “I’ll go take this to the car,” She informs him, pressing one last kiss on his lips before departing from the room.

When she’s gone, Gus turns to Shawn. “Sorry about Mira, I know she can be a little eccentric and an acquired taste to some people,”

That’s one way to put it. Shawn ruminates haughtily. “She seems nice. Where’d you two meet?”

“In Mexico last year. I was on spring break; me and a couple of friends took a trip down there for a few days. I met her at a bar, we got drunk and next thing I know were at a chapel with a donkey as my best man.”

“Wow. That sounds very…unlike you,” Shawn laments and Gus frowns a bit at this furrowing his brows. He knows he can’t argue against it because he knows Shawn’s right; Gus wasn’t as adventurous and spontaneous enough to do something like elope with some woman he barely knows. That wasn’t his Gus.

“Yeah, well.”

“And I’m assuming that your parents don’t know either? Because knowing your mother she’d probably have a heart attack if she found out that you eloped instead of having a traditional wedding,”

At this, Gus only smacks his teeth instead of answering with a verbal response which tells Shawn that he’s right. “Thanks for visiting and for staying here with me. I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you around, Shawn.”

…

It’s been two days since he’s last seen Gus. He’s been trying to give him time to settle in after the accident before going to confront him but Shawn had grown exasperated of waiting.

He needed to talk to Gus now, before it’s too late to salvage what’s left of their tainted relationship. He doesn’t know Gus’ new address to his apartment but he remembers Mira mentioning them staying at Gus’ parents house so he chances that as where he was in hopes that it would be true.

He drives through the city, making his way to his childhood neighborhood. He peers over at his house and notices his dad’s truck parked in the driveway, he looks away and drives up to the Guster’s house instead, parking his motorcycle on the side as he cut off the engine. He takes off the helmet and sets it on the rest before making his way up the driveway. Reaching the front porch, he brings his hand up and knocks on the door then stands there waiting patiently for someone to answer.

He’s standing there for a few moments before he finally hears the sound of the door unlocking. He’s relieved to see that it’s Gus who answers the door, but confusion stretches across Gus’ features when he sees Shawn standing there. Nonetheless, he pulls the door open and steps aside allowing Shawn entrance.

“I thought you would’ve been back in Vegas by now,”

Shawn shakes his head as he walks into the living room. He stands there waiting and watching as Gus locked the door then followed behind him. “No, still here. I came by because,” He shakes his head, sighing softly, “we gotta talk man. Everything’s weird and wrong between us.”

Gus folded his arms across his chest, “What do you mean?”

He wants to scream at Gus’ blatant obliviousness because how couldn’t he feel them drifting further apart? Was Shawn the only one who missed the closeness between them? Had his absence inadvertently pushed Gus away and into the arms of Mira instead, where she’s been acting as a temporary replacement in his life? All of his emotions are scattered around and has him beginning to panic. Did Gus really not care that they weren’t best friends anymore?

Running his hands through his hair, Shawn emanates a deep suspire. “I mean this, us!” He gestures a hand between them, continuing with his spiel. “It’s like I want to try to rekindle things with us but you’re pushing me away. We don’t talk. We don’t hang out, you didn’t even want me to know that you were married! I just don’t get how we went from best friends to now being strangers but I hate it because I miss you, Gus.”

“We aren’t strangers, people just change, Shawn.” He doesn’t know how many times he can keep hearing this. This trivialization that Gus is doing is infuriating him profusely. “And we aren’t as close as we were because you decided to leave. It’s kinda what you do. So, excuse me if I’m a little reluctant to let you back into my life,” Gus laments with a halfhearted shrug, that has Shawn’s heart closing in on itself.

Gus’ feelings were fair but couldn’t he see that Shawn was at least trying?

“I’m trying—”

“You don’t need to Shawn. It’s pointless. You’ll be gone again probably for longer next time and we’ll just be right back where we started.”

Shawn blinks, a little hurt by Gus’ apropos. “So that’s it? You don’t even want to try?”

Gus sighs, lowering his eyes as he shakes his head. “Shawn… Mira’s coming over any second now and—”

“I don’t care about Mira! I care about you and us,”

Gus scoffs, rolling his eyes at Shawn’s sentiments. “If you cared you wouldn’t have left me for four years! It took me being in a hospital to get you back here! And now you’re what? Trying to make up for abandoning me, that’s so like you.” His words are venomous as they emanate from his mouth and Shawn’s taken aback by the visceral haughtiness of it. They’ve argued before but it’s never been to this extent, never this real and scary.

“I abandoned you? You were abandoning me first! You couldn’t wait to leave here and go to college to meet all your new friends,” Shawn rebuttals, unable to contain the emotions that’s been stewing inside of him.

Prior to his leaving, he remembers the solemn feeling he felt when he would hear Gus raving about college, how excited he was to meet new people. All Shawn could think about was how easily his existence was going to be erased from Gus’ life the moment he met new people, how he and Santa Barbara would become a distant memory as he progressed into this new stage in his life.

Sure, it would only have been a few hours away, but he and Gus had never been separated before and his worries had gotten the better of him so he left because of his fear of losing Gus and because he’d already lost his mother.

“Don’t do that. Because I was only going a few hours away, you left the state! You didn’t even say goodbye you just left me Shawn! And you didn’t even have the decency of calling for a year afterwards.”

Shawn lowers his eyes, abashed. “It was too hard. I didn’t — I couldn’t—”

Gus throws his hand in the air in defeat, baffled by Shawn’s capability of turning this situation around and perceiving it like he was the one that got left instead of Gus. It’s always been this back and forth but Gus had grown tired of it; of sheltering his emotions when it came to Shawn.

“It couldn’t have possibly been that hard because you stayed away for four years,”

“You think it was easy being away from you?” Shawn accosts incredulously.

There’s no way Gus could even begin to fathom how hard it’s been, how much it’s killed him not being around. None of this has been easy, especially not now standing here and listening to Gus express his feelings of abandonment after he left. He wanted to make things right or at least try but Gus was adamant in his stubbornness, setting these walls that has Shawn kept at a distance.

His throat’s clicking and he can feel his pupils welding with solemn tears again. “I wanted to come back to you but I’ve been afraid of this, of you pushing me away. I don’t know what to do to prove to you how fucking sorry I am but I am, Gus. Please. I can’t deal with you hating me like this,” He begs so pathetic and desperate that Shawn barely recognizes his own voice.

“I don’t hate you, Shawn,” Gus clarifies; and for a brief moment, Shawn thinks that maybe they’ll be okay, that their friendship hadn’t completely demised like he assumed. But then, “I just don’t trust you anymore and I can’t have someone in my life that I can’t trust.” And he feels his heart plummeting to his feet as defeat and despair mulls over him.

…

On Saturday, he returns to Vegas.

He has to beg Thomas for his job back, picking up double shifts for the next two weeks to make up for walking out. He doesn’t go to Tijuana but instead drives down to Texas with a few guys he met at the restaurant who were heading there for a festival.

[dropintomanga]

My Girlfriend's Child - The Loneliness of Teen Parents

I'll admit that this is my first real shojo manga read in a very long time. I will say that this is a great title to get back into the shojo game with.

Mamoru Aoi's My Girlfriend's Child is a stand-out manga due to its coverage of an issue that is often misunderstood and/or draws a lot of shame - teen pregnancy.

My Girlfriend's Child is about a high school couple named Kawakami Sachi and Tsukishima Takara. Sachi and Takara are just your regular 16-year olds doing teenage things and learning to navigate adolescence together. However, after one intimate night together, Sachi starts to feel early signs of being pregnant. She takes a pregnancy test and discovers that she is indeed pregnant with Takara's child. The manga covers the two's suddenly complicated journey in learning how to manage their new lives with one they conceived.

What I love about the manga is how it covers Sachi's loneliness once she knows that she's pregnant. She starts to despair over how she will be able to support her child. Sachi also wonders how her education prospects will turn out. She initially thought about having an abortion and felt a great deal of shame on how to tell Takara and her family about it. In the beginning of the story, Sachi was worried about a missing cat named Nora. She somewhat compares Nora's life and the baby's life in a way as she seems to place more value in a cat's life than her own child's.

When Sachi decides to visit a clinic to inquire about an abortion and goes through an ultrasound, she starts to have second thoughts. Sachi finds comfort in Takara, who tries his earnest to be there for her and re-assures her that he'll always be by her side.

After reading the 1st 3 volumes of this manga, I decided to look up research on the mental health of pregnant teenagers. There's not a whole bunch of research on psychosocial interventions to help improve the mental health of pregnant teens or teen parents. A lot of knowledge is missing to fill in gaps for an increasingly under-served group of people.

The manga highlights how support can be helpful while complicated at the same. Takara's mother is shown to lack compassion over Sachi's pregnancy. She blames Sachi to a huge degree for putting Takara into a tough situation. Sachi's mother is happy and is somewhat conflicted on how to best help her as she knows that Sachi has to take responsibility. Sachi's older brother, Kou, tries to be very rational about the pregnancy saying that it's impossible for teenagers to take care of a child.

All of these interpersonal problems start to freak Sachi out as she remarks that there's no future where everyone will be happy. The only guarantee is Takara. I will say that Takara is refreshing because when I hear about teen pregnancy stories, the father is usually out of the picture. But Takara is there every step of the way even when he's not the one who's pregnant. He sadly has to deal with his mother's stress over his relationship with Sachi and is actually kicked out of the house, which makes him remark on how much teens still have to rely on their parents despite craving independence as adolescents.

Girls face so much more mental adversity than boys do because they're "expected" to be married before having children. That's not to say that teen fathers who do care have it that much better. They face a stigma in that they should be "wild and free" while struggling to make ends meet much earlier than they would have liked. There's many socio-ecological factors in play that affect both genders. It does not help that sex education in first-world countries is extremely lacking. Institutions in general seem to treat teenage parents as aberrations that don't deserve support. Children born to teenagers can experience health risks due to teens not being well-versed in various life skills, but people love to blame the parents for that.

I do notice that the manga provides a fresher perspective in that the child of Sachi and Takara might turn out okay. There's a lot of real-life evidence that goes against that, but I think that's because teen parents aren't given positive messaging about their experiences. It's okay for teens to want to be parents if they want to. We don't honor that enough. Parenthood is indeed stressful, but those who welcome it are able to fare better when they are willing to build the strength to do so and have others to help encourage that strength.

My Girlfriend's Child is a very thoughtful series because teen pregnancy isn't really discussed enough and there's definitely a community out there willing to support expectant teen parents. I do feel that teenagers are smarter/better than people think at times and not many people respect that enough. Birth is a part of life that can happen to anyone and teens can make the right decisions for themselves if we let them and respect their ability to do so.

[sixthwater]

Thoughts on Modern Vedic

I’m finally able to put it into words. It’s not so much the practice as it is the way it’s produced currently, in a way. I have a few people that I follow as I’ve said before that I enjoy their way of going about this system and it’s actually very interesting and they’re very intelligent as well as impressive, but the system just isn’t for me.

Unfortunately, the vast majority turns me off of that system and it’s similar to how astrologers in general can turn people off of astrology. Something that I’ve really liked with this system is the way it utilizes themes or stories? Blanking on the word- To go along with nakshatras, but it bleeds into other aspects and it treats people more like caricatures and not People. Which can circle right back into stereotyping.

Bharani people are inherently sexual so they will end up being promiscuous. I took it at face value before realizing that people started to see others through that lens and flatten them to two dimensional characteristics. Regardless of how you feel about her, let’s look at Selena Gomez because it’s the perfect example of this problem:

When in reality:

Even if the second photo is only slightly better while still repeating the same mistake, you can’t ignore the rampant bias going on in modern Vedic. And that’s what turns me off from it. It’s supposed to be more accurate but people look at a person’s three actions and go “I just KNOW they’re Jyeshta” while forgetting they have a whole chart to break down because, what? They were inquiring about how other people view them consistently enough?

I can’t help but get frustrated that so many layers of it are being forgotten and it’s the very very intricate layers of it. There are cons to it, as well as objective issues (saying a native is born to have unsuccessful marriages or a terrible life and there’s nothing they can do about it is…something), but there’s beauty to everything.

Let’s look back at Bharani cause, I’m a Bharani Moon. As you know, I’m Asexual. That’s cuts half of this nakshatra in half. But it really doesn’t lol. I believe that sensuality is forgotten in a world that media has put sexuality on a pedestal — not in a holier than thou way but it’s made people lose touch within themselves and within intimacy between their partners. So Sensuality is important to me in a way, I love seeing that in media. I also Love media that involves themes of death/rebirth/the afterlife. Seeing transformation and metaphors for it are wonderful even if no one really dies because literal death isn’t necessary. Not a special attribute but I will be insanely protective of women even if I just met them, you have to get through me first if you wanna fuck with them. However all of those other Bharani qualities I rarely see because it hides behind whatever you can sexualize within its nakshatra which is very boring to be honest. I know that’s the point but if that’s the case…okay.

So I believe that’s my issue here. Modern explanations or configurations are so full of bias that it makes it difficult for it’s pure form to come through and it waters down so much of what it has to offer, so that by the time anyone might find a good astrologer, that have to seriously be convinced it has something more to it than anything judgmental

[lilacstro]

💌messages for collective

I have lately been very drawn to ocean and ocean sounds. So this felt nice. i was willing to make a pick-a-pile post, but I felt rather drawn to do a collective reading. I have made a new oracle deck by myself and am working on creating a studio ghibli tarot deck!! Decks used: biddy tarot, poesis oracle, vessel oracle, inquire within oracle, my personal oracle Let me know suggestions about the broadcast channel if any (:

☆how do I know if this reading is for me? if you find yourself relating to the energy check, you can know this reading has some messages for you!

Paid readings open

support me on ko-fi :)

Energy check:

I was hearing "true blue" by Billie Eillish just when I wrote the title of the reading which was supposed to be a pick a pile, but instead turned something else. Specifically the lines "I tried to live in black and white but I am so blue". Maybe someone here is not over a person or a situation, especially from past. Maybe you felt you are over it, but its resurfacing especially showing effects emotionally. I am seeing that someone here is actually is experiencing some kind of delays and setbacks in the sense that things are either literally delayed or maybe you are getting something completely different from what you've been wanting. I am hearing "going bananas". There is a lot of fear inside, a feeling or I may rather say, tricking yourself into thinking you're at rock bottom, when you probably are not. There is problems in seeing things clearly. I see many of you here are rejecting change, and its either out of fear or attachment or there is self doubt that you would not be able to change, not able to "hang up". Now this can actually mean being stubborn in doing something a certain way, not hanging up on toxic people in your life that you deep down feel are not for you. There is a tendency of liking predictability that needs to change, sometimes things do not go as planned and they are for the best. Someone here could have watched or probably needs to watch "spirited away" or studio ghibli films in general because I am seeing a lot of my oracle cards with studio ghibli imagery in them fall out. I feel many of you could have created spirals mentally, projecting your opinions and views rather than seeing things and people for they are. Fix your posture is one another thing. Some things I am seeing are meditation and yoga, either you are thinking about doing it, or you should do it. There is a lot of drained and stagnant energy, and there is a need to recharge, start fresh. If some of you use crystals, recharge them, especially by the ocean. I am specially hearing "I wonder where did they go, their energy was no nice", so if anyone of you is thinking of quitting something you feel you are good at, or because you aren't seeing results, please do not go away. It feels like last one year could have been very chaotic, extremely inconsistent in what showed up for you. Next one year things would change. If this sounds like you, this reading is for you. I am also hearing travel, change in location. Someone will call you, either your inner calling or maybe some person or situation, you would need to get up and leave, and this will start a change. The lesser you "try harder", the more you would be able to find things easily. Let things come to you, they are not as out of reach at all as you are feeling. I am hearing Mitski, and the lines "moon tell me if I could send up my heart to you" and "nothing in the world is mine for free, but my love is mine all mine". I am also hearing "mistakes are reversible". I would suggest doing mediations under shower, maybe waterfalls or putting ocean sounds on while doing meditations or even before falling asleep. You are likely to find peace, clarity and sharper intuition near water.

Tarot:

There are some recurring themes from the energy check, and this confirms to me that this in line with what we have talked about before. I feel many of you are wanting to travel or at least move past what you feel has trapped you. I am constantly seeing the "world card". Also, if its possible, please go on a field trip or some kind of drive. I do not feel you guys are in proper hermit mode, but there is lack of being able to socialize properly. Maybe you do not talk as much as you could or used to. I am hearing "practice", now practice for breaking repeating cycles, or a subject or something else, is upto you. There is some conflict on the inside, with the past. Maybe you are reminiscing about someone from the past though they were not good, or maybe you feel wronged and unjust about a past situation lately. Inner conflict. Someone here could feel "it would never get better", and "i would never be/have enough". Feeling something right on the chest. But here is the solution: The moment you start doing something small, starting slowly, things would shift for you. You do not have to take a leap, you have to start small, start slow and let life work itself out for you. There is a happy ending here, you would find a wonderful partner, someone would choose you as their happy ending and you would make the right choice too, but let it take some time, start small and slow, but show up consistently. You are always changing, shifting and change is the only constant, do not fear it. Do not fear the unknown. I am hearing "you can move mountains too". There is a need to return home, return back to the present and start with what you have, even if you do not feel satisfied. I am feeling called to take out to see timings, take it if it resonates: Things would change fast for you the moment you start changing is one thing, the moment you take charge. Apart from that, Libra season, and the next fortnight, 1year. Someone here is about to meet someone, probably a romantic partner soon.

take care xoxo~

[thebigcjart]

SO HAPPY TO FINALLY SHARE MY BLORBOS love them sm

"This young adult is named chose the name KANE MENDOZA. Kane is the kind of person who finds most things GENERALLY DISINTERESTING. Not for a lack of trying, but as a symptom of their ALEXITHYMIA. They don’t mind it, which is its own punchline. Kane woke up one day at the ripe old age of SIXTEEN, and cannot remember anything before that point. They are always maybe probably tired (unconfirmed) due to some nasty SLEEPING PROBLEMS. They do not like to sleep because they do not know if they will wake up again. They do not dream. It is only darkness. They have A VERY HANDSOME CAT named CAZADOR to occupy them during the latearly hours of the dawn instead of sleeping. They think they like GARDENING and PARKOUR, and are apparently VERY SKILLED at those two things in particular? At least, that’s what the other members of the GROUP HOME remind them they appear to like, and that’s good enough for Kane. The group home in question is an ILLEGALLY OCCUPIED basement belonging to a VERY UNDERSTANDING bar; though, technically being homeless, anywhere they occupy is considered illegally so by THE CITY. Kane was most likely perfectly indifferent towards being homeless, but JAKE ALASSA, a member of the group home, was most likely DEFINITELY NOT and scooped them up into their current SUBTERRANIAN SUBTERRANEAN LIVING ARRANGEMENT. Kane finds Jake... Interesting, maybe?"

Kane is likely Venezuelan judging from the dialect of Spanish they were speaking before they re-learned English (they most likely knew it as a young kid but for some unknown reason stopped speaking it for several years).

Their symbol is the alchemical symbol of gold, modified to look like the thing it represents, the sun. A black sun is a symbol commonly associated with Nigredo, an alchemical component said to represent emptiness and the first of many steps to obtaining the Philosopher's Stone.

I'll cover the lands and denizens and quests and junk after I get all the members of the group home drawn up, as they are the players of my fansession, but Mendoza as a surname generally means "Cold Mountain" in most translations, but the Basque root "mendi" suggests that the name means "Son of the mountain dweller" which is pertinent for lore reasons :)))

Time to cover the elephant in the room, Kane does not have a Dream Self. They probably (tho not certainly) would have been Derse, but they were straight up born without one. Speaking of...

"They were born???" I hear you inquire at great volumes in advance. And yes, they were born. To those of you not so well versed in Homestuck Lore, the convention is that the players are either Paradox Clones of themselves or Paradox Offspring of other Paradox Clones through Ectobiology. The paradox being that they don't really start anywhere, they are their own parent/descendant, etc etc. However, Kane actually has biological parents. Or, at least their past life did. No one has tried to reach out to them since they awoke. I might go into this topic later on when I infodump about their quest as this session's ectobiologist. All I'll say on the matter now is that their Chumhandle is related to this discrepancy in the status quo.

AND SPEAKING OF DISCREPENCIES IN THE STATUS QUO, y'all just wait until I get to the cherubs...

Ohh this is going to be great, just you wait.

Just the sprite in case u wanted it :3

Look at them

Look at my pal

[mandareeboo]

Unfinished Work #52: "Get some self-care bitch"

Title: Get some self-care bitch

Summary: Rudy slowly learns that having a humanoid body means, well, having human needs.

Ahh, this one! I actually really like how this one went so far. I never got around to finishing it- mostly because I couldn't think of smth for every team member. I think Monster Girl was gonna help Rudy patch up some wounds and Rex was gonna give skin-care tips, but that's all I really recall.

There is very little fanfare surrounding Rudy's arrival. That's to be expected, of course- there are much, much bigger problems afoot. Omni-man has become compromised, and Invincible is nowhere to be seen after a rather bloody display. Then there's the city- homes torn to shreds, viscera everywhere, rubble to be moved. Rudy knows, logically, that this is not the time to be upset or unhappy by how things have gone.

So, he buckles down and moves on. Because that's what heroes do. That's what Robot does, and that's who the world needs right now. There will be time for proper conversation afterward, between himself and Monster Girl. He thinks- hopes?- that it will go well.

(She's losing years just cleaning up after the people they were supposed to trust. Rudy has spent thirty years in that cage, and he knows now is not the time to get sentimental. She needs to grieve.)

Rudy stretches as he flops out of the suit, taking a great joy in the ache it gives him. Rudy's always hurt, but now he's hurting from things that aren't beyond his control. Rudy made the choice to walk (walk!) out of bed this morning and work ground control. He had an option. It's exhilarating.

Black Samson, rubbing his wrist, is clearly not feeling the same way.

(Black Samson thinks Rudy wouldn't climb into the artic for him. In a way, he's right. Rudy didn't have to climb into the arctic to carefully piece his shattered bones and flesh together on the operating table, supervised by overworked staff he couldn't convince to take a rest. Because Robots don't need rest, and he refused for this to be done sloppily from lack of sleep.)

"Phantom pains?" he asks.

Black Samson grunts and stops rubbing, fixing him that no-nonsense stare he has. It's impressive, truly.

"Have you considered acupuncture?" Rudy inquires. He doubts the man would be interested in medication or full surgery. (Rudy files it away for later: next time he's under the knife, he will fix him.) "Its effectiveness varies, but it may help dull th-"

"I know what to do about phantom pain," Black Samson interrupts. "This isn't my first rodeo."

"Mm," says Rudy, sensing he's overstepped a boundary. "My apologies. I wanted to help."

Samson sighs, long and low, and stands. He sets a gauntlet-covered hand on his shoulder. "You want to help me? Drink a goddamn glass of water."

Rudy tilts his head slightly, brows raised. "That... would assist you?"

"You think I want to haul your scrawny ass around when you pass out from fatigue?" He raises his eyebrows in return. A challenge. "Take a glass next time the truck comes around. It's there for all of us."

Rudy, honestly, hadn't noticed that they were being served water at all. He cleared his throat, finding it dry, and nods. "Of course. Sorry."

And somehow that makes Black Samson smile, and Rudy is somehow more confused than when he began this conversation. "I think that's the first real apology I've ever heard out of you."

"Is it?" he asks, thinking of Rex and the confrontation. He'd said sorry then, hadn't he? Everything about that day was such a jumble.

"It is," he affirms. "Keep it up, hotshot. Might be some human in you yet."

———————————————————————————————————-

Rudy tries to be observant. He does. He keeps files on everyone he knows, with facts on them. Big or little. He's memorized every birthday and knows the exact amount of teeth each coworker has ever lost. He knows Kate is allergic to kiwi, and he knows Eve's favorite type of tree, and exactly how many freckles Monster Girl has (that is a variable fact, given her constant age fluctuation, but Rudy is studious).

For the life of him, however, he has no idea how they ended up sitting in a cramped Burger Mart booth for dinner. But, if he had to speculate, he'd guess it was Rex- he had a fondness for the chain Rudy didn't fully understand.

Someone cleared their throat. Rudy looks up from his hands to see Rae slowly pushing his tray closer.

"Oh. Yes. Right." He picked up a fry, studied it, and took a small bite. Cold. Insufficiently salty. A Burger Mart specialty. Rudy looks at his burger, then the fries, and keeps eating the fries.

Something must poke through his features, though, because her face softens. Before, Rae had simply been impassive. Now she was alert. Not a good sign. "You don't like burgers?"

Rudy shrugs.

"Bullshit!" Rex says, incredulous. "Who doesn't like burgers?"

"Vegetarians," Kate says pointedly, chewing on some nuggets. "The only way I can eat these is because I know there's no meat in them."

"Dude," Rex says, nudging Rudy's arm, and he looks more hurt than when he told him he'd stolen his DNA. "Are you a rabbit?"

"I... enjoy most other meats." Rudy shrugs again. "Once you've drank a bunch of burgers through a straw, they lose their appeal."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Rae asks.

Rudy shrugs a third time, unperturbed. He'd only ordered because they'd pestered him to. "It was the cheapest option."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Rex grumbles- and, to Rudy's surprise, digs out his wallet, shoving a crumpled twenty into his chest. "Go order something you'll actually eat, dumbass."

Rudy held his hands up, torn between being touched and wondering when he'll ask for the money back. He's a genius, sure, but he's not exactly made of money. Most of it pools into building robots and repairing various machines around the base. "That's... not necessary. I can still-"

"Shut up and take it, you weird ass rabbit. Before I change my mind."

(He orders mozzarella sticks- second cheapest, equally as unsatisfying- and somehow triggers some stomach issues Rudy wasn't aware this body had. Rex almost throttles him as he buys him "a goddamn chicken sandwich, like some fuckin' hippie.")

[alexiela73]

Hi I'm sorry for asking for another request- please feel free to ignore me if it's a bit too much >_< Especially because I also vent a little in this ask. I will not take it personally if you decide not to do this ask, especially since you've already taken a request from me! So please do feel free to ignore, especially if it's better for your mental. The last thing I want to do is to cause more harm.

Anyway, I just find a lot of comfort in Hanzo q_q this is the same anon who asked for the autistic/mentally ill s/o qwq

2023 hasn't really been all too good for me so far even though it's just been 3 days, and 2022 ended on a really, really bad note

// TW for slight venting, because I'm going to share a little bit about what I'd need comfort for I guess >_<

I have abusive parents, they no longer physically abuse me (although I still have some scars), and I am constantly verbally abused everyday. It has really impacted my mental and emotional state

Recently I was told that I would be the cause of my mother's death, and all I do is cause everyone's suffering.

I also um... have a lot of trauma regarding touch, but I think I'd be okay with it if Hanzo held me close because I could focus on him and my anxiety/schizophrenia wouldn't hurt me... too much.

I just want to ask- how do you think Hanzo would comfort me especially after hearing all about this...? I don't know, I'm just kinda desperate at this point q_q

Thank you for your time and please have a good day qwq

I'm so sorry you are having a rough time. If you ever need to rant, just get it out to a stranger, just feel free to message me. If nothing else, sometimes its nice to feel heard. And don't worry about sending more requests, send as many as you'd like.

Hanzo Comfort Headcanon

After the way his life had started and the mistakes he had made, it had taken a long time for Hanzo to finally come to one conclusion: he would never hurt anyone he loved again

This one thought has become ingrained into him

Falling in love with you to him is one of the greatest gifts life could have bestowed upon him

After his clan and everything that happened with Genji, he didn't think he'd ever feel this kind of peace or happiness

To know that in a way, like him, you are enduring the burden of a family who causes you nothing but pain wounds him

He has seen first hand the kind of damage its done to you

The first time he met your family, Hanzo had held back out of respect to you- this was your family, and at first he felt it wasn't his place to speak up. After all, perhaps he misunderstood

Now Hanzo goes with you whenever you have to see your family- if you truly insist on seeing them, that is. While Hanzo's goal is not to upset you further, he has no problem getting curt with them or telling them to back off.

Hanzo would see the messages between you and your family though- not due to snooping, but when you were upset you'd often drop your phone and go seclude yourself

During moments like these, when you would cry in the tub or try to hide in another part of the house, Hanzo would seek you out

Comforting someone is not something that comes easily to him. but Hanzo decides to go with his instinct with you

Usually he will sit next to you, not quite touching and ask if he can hold your hand. If not, Hanzo will respect that and sit beside you, usually humming a japansese lullaby

If he gets permission, he will cradle your hand between his, thumb gently circling your knuckles

If a hug is something that you will allow, then Hanzo will pull you into his arms and gently stroke your hair

Everything is at your pace

Hanzo has never been upset by this- he was blessed when you came into his lonely world, and he will forever be grateful for that

Though Hanzo himself said he'd never do it, he does gently inquire about counseling or seeking someone to speak to

Hanzo says he'll even go and talk about his...problems, if you will

With Genji's recommendation, you two do go spend weekends at the monastery in Nepal. Its actually quite peaceful, though it takes awhile for Hanzo to stop scoffing at it

Other little things he does for you is make sure you always have cupboards of comfort food- if baking is it, then he takes it upon himself to bake for you every week

Hanzo also lets you use his dragons like emotional support animals, letting you maul, squish and hug them as much as you need. Luckily, they don't seem to mind

[marianperera]

Some time ago, I read a critique of A Game of Thrones on a blog...

I've forgotten the name of the blog and its author, though perhaps that's for the best, because all I remember is one point. The author claimed Ned Stark was a fool for pretending Jon was his son (and thereby ensuring Catelyn would always see Jon as a threat to her children) when instead Ned could have said Jon was the son of some lowborn soldier who died saving Ned's life and who asked only that Ned take care of his orphaned baby son.

There are some problems with this reasoning. Let's assume Ned tries this fiction of Jon being a lowborn soldier's son. Maybe Ned can claim that the lowborn soldier didn't have any family who could raise the child, so Ned stepped up to the plate because he owed the lowborn soldier his life.

However, even if Ned says that Jon's father was lowborn, Ned is still not going to treat Jon like someone lowborn. Jon will be raised with the Stark children, educated and trained alongside Ned's heir. Ned will not do anything less for Lyanna's child. And people will find this strange. It goes well beyond noblesse oblige. For a Lord Paramount to take an orphaned smallfolk child into his home to be raised beside his own children is so unusual that people will talk, and Ned does not want anyone talking about Jon.

But the biggest pitfall here is that Jon looks like Ned. A lot. So how is Ned supposed to explain this? "No, no, actually Jon looks like his real father, the lowborn soldier who died saving my life, and the lowborn solider happened to have the Stark features somehow"?

A lot of people in Westeros will think more critically than the blog's author did. When you hear hoofbeats, expect horses rather than zebras, and when you see a boy who strongly resembles the man who's raising him, expect a blood-relative connection rather than this convoluted explanation/massive coincidence.

Basically, "Jon is a lowborn soldier's son" is not just a cumbersome lie, it falls apart as soon as Jon starts showing the Stark features. Whereas the lie Ned did tell, while it jeopardized his relationship with Catelyn and made her dislike and distrust Jon, was also extremely believable and no one inquires into it.

[albertbutyoucancallmebert]

@eyeballcommander

(prev) Peepers let out a relieved sigh and wiped imaginary sweat off his imaginary brow. “Phew! Good to know that he’s only capable of minor curses!” He never quite understood why people apologized for things that were out of their control. Or at least, not when they weren’t playing damage control on behalf of some moron who’d drag them down with him. But Peepers couldn’t say he actually felt as sorry as Lord Hater should. That’s why Peepers wasn’t sure how to response to Bert apologizing on behalf of their mutual enemy. What was he supposed to do anyways? So he ignored it and kept talking. “Once I got cursed by some dying hag to be unable to shoot without it literally blowing up in my face!” He paused to snicker. “I knifed her, of course. Took some doing with an Offiziersmesser but I got it done.” Then he crossed his arms and groaned. “Getting it dispelled was a pain and a half though… Not that it’s a problem once you find the right guy. But 95% of the so-called witches were frauds, 70% of the real ones fled, 25% of them took the opportunity to try to lay another curse before vamoosing, and the last one would only do it for a powerful ancient artifact we just finished getting.” Once Peepers finished telling his little story he smirked. “I also got my bloodline cursed. Probably. Kinda hope it worked its way into the existing line because I hate that gaggle of zounderkites.” Then he mischievously snickered. “Could you imagine wasting the rest of your life energy on a guy who never intended to have kids?” While he was talking he noticed Sherri Jr. creeping on up and leaned to the side to get a better view around the corner. Come to think of it… It’s been a tad too long since she last visited Hater Jr, hasn’t it?

Bert stared at Commander Peepers with rapt attention, enjoying merely listening to him speak. Even if he didn’t follow everything perfectly, what with his talks of vamooses and zounderkites. He knew it was jargon from the old-timey novels the Commander liked to read, and Bert always tried to piece together the meaning with context clues. 

There was a brief delay after Peepers’ last rhetorical question as Bert was still mulling over the unfamiliar words, but eventually he blurted out, “Ohh, you hate your family?” He asked it more to get confirmation that he understood correctly rather than inquiring further about the topic. Though the topic was a bit intriguing...