#but its a good idea and someone should make this or ill do it myself

[opens-up-4-nobody]

The way that the sun hits leaves and clouds. I feel like I could watch the colors change forever. If I could slow down for that long.

[thepossummoldypasta]

I Lost Myself to Find You

Tw! a character thinks he's been drugged, strong depictions of someone feeling ill

Steve knew, he knew, it was a bad idea to come to school today. He had thought (ignorantly, stupidly,) that the effects of having his face beaten in and the horrors of almost dying to a fucked up paper-fortune-teller-monster would have faded away over the weekend. Apparently not. Of course not.

Stupid.

Now everything aches. It hurts more than Steve thinks it should. It hurts like he’s a walking livewire bruise. Like every muscle has torn apart and hurled itself back together with no care. He doesn't remember being so absolutely fucked yesterday.

It's pretty obvious that he’s in a bad way. Steve’s shuffling down the hallway like a zombie, arms curled around a suffering stomach that he doesn't even remember Johnathan socking. Not to mention the smell. Steve’s set to present as a beta and even he can smell how absolutely pathetic he is right now.

It's only second period and he longs to be back home with the covers pulled over his head.

Fuck it.

Steve turns around. O’Donnell can fuck herself; Steve’s insides are falling out and he's got priorities. His internal organs trying to eat each other has got to be more important than English class.

It's a long trek to his car parked at the far, desolate, corner of the lot. What stupid mountain was Nancy’s little brother going on about the last time he saw him? Card-something? Steve feels like that. Like he’s crawling lamb-like across some epic snowy mountain, about to collapse.

Where's his car?

Steve knows where he parked his car, but he doesn't see it in the lot. Or he thinks he doesn't; Steve can't see much of anything through the spots dancing in his vision. Maybe the swirling is making it harder to see than the spots are? Either way Steve’s got no idea how far away he is from the bimmer, lost amongst a swimming sea of metal.

He needs to sit down; to yell at his thoughts until they regroup.

Is he even in the parking lot anymore? fuck is he even in the parking lot? The swirling feeling is worse, now it's like he’s swaying on a giant seesaw crossed with a carrousel. Steve’s head feels heavy, like there is cotton and sand thumping around in there instead of brains and rational thoughts.

At least the spots in his vision are gone. If Steve focuses enough--despite his eyes mimicking a fuzzy camera lens zooming in and out—he can see boldly colored evergreen leaves and icy moss. Yep, not in the parking lot.

Probably not a good idea to wander around in the snow blanketed woods with no jacket. The weather is cold enough that Steve could freeze!

Well…

He could freeze if it didn't feel like a fire had been lit in his stomach and across his shoulders.

It's almost near dark, Hawkins is firmly in that time of year when the sun disappears early, but the sky remains dully lit. The shade cast by the trees Steve is trudging between dims the earth even further but everything seems so vivid to him that it almost doesn't matter.

It shouldn't still be this easy to see. It's almost like the preternatural senses that he’s heard come after presentation. Even Betas gain heightened senses, but Steve hasn't presented as one yet, so why is it so bright?

Suddenly it occurs to Steve that he might have been drugged.

Tommy did say he would get back at Steve for abandoning him; The really sad thing is that Steve can picture his used-to-be best friend slipping him something as payback. What would this even be? God, he hopes its not acid.

Steve knows what he has to do now, where he has to go.

Eddie can help

When you think about it, at first the idea seems utterly absurd, but Steve knows Eddie. Sure, the alpha is a major freak, but he’s also Hawkins High’s most prominent (only) drug dealer. He’s bought from Eddie. Every time Steve picked up the “party favors” his friends pressured him into getting, Eddie would get this look on his face and tell Steve that he was always there if he had a bad trip.

And that’s what this is right? It's just a bad trip—even if it was potentially caused by the one guy he used to trust more than anybody else in the world—but now Steve actually has a plan! He just has to make it to Eddie!

Shockingly that might be easier to do than one might think. Very luckily Steve knows these woods and knows them well. In abrupt clarity Steve realizes the route he must have taken to get here and therefore the route he needs to take to get to Eddie.

If he’s in the woods he must have wandered south out of the Highschool parking lot, weaved between houses and the thin tree line, and eventually got himself into the woods proper. He doesn't think he took any turns, so if he just heads west, he’ll either head straight to Forest Hills or pop back out on a road he can follow to get there.

After a small setback—because he can’t follow the sun to find west—Steve is on his way.

The hike through the frost and snow is still oddly easier than it should be. Steve feels like his body is running on fever and instinct. As he walks Steve absentmindedly starts to hum “Over the River and Through the Woods” under his breath, hoping familiar music will speed up the flow of time.

He can still see fairly well; well enough to see (and attempt to ignore) what seems like a little girl following him from close behind. Steve knows it’s probably just the ghosts of his foggy mind coming to haunt him but the idea of a young pup all alone in the woods makes something in him, ache.

Soon enough, she slips back into the shrouds of trees. The pup won’t answer when Steve calls for her; and though it hurts—oh how it hurts—Steve reasons he cannot stop and weep over the spirits conjured by his drug addled brain. He’s almost there.

It should be startling how direct the path Steve took is but he doesn't care about that. He’s almost there. Lights shimmer in the distance, if he listens closely, it's almost like he can hear the soft thrum of distant music permeating the forest floor.

Metallica.

Eddie.

The Munson trailer seems to rise from the freezing mist, welcoming and safe. Steve sees Eddie’s window aglow in the evening and a sigh of relief breaks free from his troubled chest. Steve knows Eddie’s trailer, his window (Eddie refused to sell anything worse than weed anywhere but at home), the certainty is a comfort.

Eddie promised he would help him, here Steve will be safe. Quickly but clumsily Steve flies like a moth to the soft window-light. All sense has left him now; Steve claws and whimpers at the window pathetically until it opens.

“Harrington?” Eddie sticks his head out to greet him, “What are you doing?” Steve whines at the harshness of the whisper. He knows it wasn't meant to be mean but it still feels upsetting somehow.

“Eddie, I need help” the plea is pitchy and sad even to his own ears but still Steve presses on. “Eddie, you promised!”

The poor alpha startles, sucks in a breath and leaps to settle the boy crying at his window.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie flounders. “Steve, calm down, we can sort this out.” no matter how Eddie tries to sooth him Steve does not get a hold of himself. It takes several, long, anxious, moments before Eddie retreats back from the window.

Steve wails.

Why would Eddie leave? why when he said Steve could always come to him?

Steve has never felt so fragile before, He doesn't remember feeling this heartbreaking lonesomeness since maybe before high school. It could be just a culmination of every emotion he's felt and locked away because of the hell he was pulled into. it could be that this was just the last straw. Either way for some stupid reason he feels a small twinge of abandonment in his bruised heart.

All of a sudden arms envelop him in warmth and care.

"Hey, lets get you inside, okay Steve?" Eddie murmurs by his ear. "Jesus man, what are ya a space heater or something? You have your own vapor cloud." Steve doesn't think he was actually supposed to hear that part, but when he turns around, sure enough, a fine mist rises from his shoulders and trails after him like a sorrowful miasma.

how did that happen? When did that happen?

The Munson trailer is warmer and more comforting the anywhere else Steve has been in his entire life. Something rumbles deep contentedly in his chest; its so nice.

Eddie leads him over to a small couch covered in more through pillows on it than a couch thrice its size would need and Steve is glad to rest there.

"Okay man, what do you need?" Eddie questions when the other boy is settled in, "What can I do?"

Steve can't muster actual words but somehow the alpha understands. Swiftly Steve finds himself under a bundle of blankets to situate any way he wants while Eddie steps away once more. This time it isn't so bad; Steve still feels unhappy that Eddie isn't with him, however unlike last time Eddie had told Steve where he was going and was still in his line of sight as the Alpha goes to call his uncle.

"Hey Wayne" Steve hears Eddie greet his uncle. There is a brief back and forth about why Eddie is calling, and how "yes it is suspicious for you to call this late", before Eddie admits defeat. "look, You really cant get mad about this okay?" Eddie stresses into the phone. "I picked up another stray."

Another? but could that mean--

"I-I know Wayne," Eddie interrupts Steve's train of thought, "but I really gotta help my friend out okay? He's in heat."

The conversation continues at a steady murmur, but Steve can barely hear it, let alone make sense of the yeses and i-knows being passed back and forth.

Steve can't stay. He should have known taking advantage of someone's hospitality would have consequences. Here he is, a pathetic lump, on Eddies couch when he should be focusing on his omega! His omega in heat no less!

Steve struggles to free himself from the blankets and pillows he hadn't realized were completely surrounding him. Distantly he hears Eddie frantically tell his uncle he has to go and slam the handset back into the cradle as Steve almost tumbles to the floor.

"Hey! Hey! Steve what's wrong man?" Eddie manages to catch Steve by the shoulders holding him in place.

"No! Let me go!" Steve cries, thrashing in Eddies hold "You should be taking care of your omega!"

Steve nearly breaks free but Eddie wraps around him. now he's trapped in a hold more like a hug than a trap pushing him back into place.

"Well I don't know if we're quite there yet big boy, but that is what I'm trying to do!" The Alpha huffs.

"No you should be with him! He's the one in heat!" the cry pierces into the night, Its so sharp Steve is almost shocked it cam from his own mouth. Eddie makes a confused noise--that might have been a word if Steve was paying attention--he shifts his hold once more, putting Steve at arms length so he can look in his eyes.

"Steve!"

"What!" he shouts in return, Eddie looks deep in his eyes despite Steve's best efforts to look away.

"You're in heat." Eddie says it with such conviction it's startling. In fact Steve is so caught off guard that he goes limp enough to be laid back against the couch.

What--

Eddie coos at him softly, Tucking the blankets back around Steve, even going so far as to fluff a few of the pillows.

"oh honey," Eddie says sweetly as he brushes a hand along Steve's hair in a way he would normally despise, "You really didn't know? is this your first one?"

Steve nods against the alphas careful hand, taking it to nuzzle. Literally three hours ago--heck five minutes ago--if anyone had asked Steve if he was in heat he would have laughed in their face. Now the low, thrumming, ache has settled back in his gut and inclines him to think differently.

What else could this be really? well, he thought drugs, but hindsight and a safe place to rest vanishes the thought. looking back on the day all the cramps, the post-presentation senses, the fire that's settled within him, it all seems to make sense.

(a distant part of his brain--the one that will be embarrassed in a couple days time--tells him that the emotional sensitivity was also probably the result of his surprise presentation. That it was the natural, sudden shift, in hormones and pheromones effecting his already slightly addled brain)

"I don't want to leave, Eddie." Steve eventually sniffles against the warmth of the alpha. He reaches up to hold him gently and Eddie sinks into the hug.

"You don't have to go anywhere sweetheart. I'll look after you, I promise."

Later, after many cuddles and complaints from the new omega about how he "thought heats were supposed to be sexy", Steve will reflect on this week as probably the best one of his entire life. Up until that point of course. After all he has the rest of his life with the most caring alpha he's ever known ahead of him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Yay It's Done! Feel free to come check this out on Ao3 as well because I've decided to cross post as many of my works as I can =]

[d0gbite]

how do you have the courage to be yourself? how do you not fear of their looks or their words? I just... I'm sorry if this is hard to answer.

don’t be sorry. honestly, it took me a long time to be able to not care about being judged. i used to be a super socially anxious and shy person. but recently within the last few years i’ve realized that it just… doesn’t matter what other people think of you. i know that’s so cliche. but honestly.

when i was in high school i started dressing uhhh.. let’s say a little weird. i wanted to test the waters, so to speak. i was experimenting with clothes and trying to teach myself to not be afraid of getting weird looks. because people WOULD give me weird looks, and comments, and even laugh at me. but i liked the way i looked, and my friends thought it was fun, so… what’s the big deal? how is it really affecting me, what they think about how i dress?

i got called a furry a lot in high school, and sometimes barked at. i didn’t know what a furry even was, so it didn’t bother me. i asked my friend one day, and she told me its people who dress like animals, and that i should look it up, because she thinks i’d really like it. and you know what? she was right. so i was a furry. i sometimes wore cat ears or a collar to school. and it still didn’t bother me when people tried to make fun of me for it. partially because i didn’t realize they were making fun of me (the tism) but partially because i didn’t care. *i* thought furries were cool, so i wasn’t embarrassed about them calling me one. they were right, after all 🤷‍♀️

i’m still openly a furry. i wore my fursuit to my college classes on halloween. i’m openly queer. i’m semi-openly a therian (close friends and family know, and ill tell anyone who asks). i don’t mind being weird or different, because i learned when i was a teenager to not be afraid of weird looks or being laughed at. they cant hurt you. it just doesn’t matter to me if other people think i’m cool or not, *i* think i’m cool. i made friends with other people who thought i was cool.

i was worried for a while that if i was too weird, nobody would like me and i wouldn’t have any friends. but the thing is, you won’t make friends by pretending to be someone you’re not. not real friends. i promise that *someone* will still like you. you’ll find someone like you. someone will still understand and think you’re cool no matter how weird you are. and if they don’t, i’m always here :)

LASTLY (sorry this has been so long) i’m good at being openly myself now because of how i worked on my self esteem. i used to have super low self esteem, i didn’t think highly of myself at all. but i read something online once, a few years ago, that said instead of making self-deprecating jokes/comments, to start making self-aggrandizing jokes. instead of saying “i can’t believe i got a good grade with how dumb and bad at math i am”, start saying “of course i got a good grade, im just that amazing and smart and incredible”. so i started doing that. personally, i think these kinds of jokes are WAY funnier, and also they help your self esteem. even if you don’t believe what you’re saying, it still subconsciously builds up an idea of yourself in your head. i will quite often make jokes like this, and i find this helps TREMENDOUSLY with not caring about how people think of me. who cares if they think i’m weird? i’m so pretty and smart and funny and talented 😌 i don’t need them to like me

anyway. that’s a lot of words to say sticks and stones can break your bones but words can never hurt you. but it’s true!

the fear of being judged is a (super valid to have, but) irrational fear, imo; judgement will not hurt you. so my big three tips, if you’re trying to start not caring about what people think: practice, find friends/a group who like you for who you are, and don’t think too poorly of yourself

[oh-no-its-bird]

Mayhaps I want to ask about "genderfuck"

From this ask meme

Oh this is a fun one actually, like, in my heart. It's also an Ichigo one, full disclaimer, so

SUMMARY // Hatake Ichigo and the trials and tribulations of being a shinobi girl hitting puberty, who just so happened to have been born a boy. --- "Maybe I should just castrate myself." Ichigo sniffled. "Ichigo," Her mother sighed, still patient. "You are not allowed to try and castrate yourself till at least 20." "But it'll be too late by then!" She wailed.

I think I might have already posted this one snippet of it bc I remember thinking it was funny, but oh well Ill just post it anyways if that is the case.

But like, eunuch Hikaku mention:

"I bet Hikaku-sama would know how to castrate someone." Ichigo mumbled, kicking at the floor dejectedly, and her mother paused. "Why in the world would Uchiha Hikaku know how to safely castrate someone?" Ichigo stared at her mother blankly, who stared back with an equally confused expression. "Um, cuz he's a eunuch, right?" "Excuse me?" Ichigo frowned. "He had to chop of his own thing, for some mission in the Daimyo's court or something, right? Before he became clan heir?" "Where did you hear that?" "The twins told me!" Ichigo scowled, oddly miffed by her mother's doubt. "And you believed them?" Ichigo planted her fists on her hips. "Well when I asked Kagami, he believed it too! And every time after that when I mentioned it to people, no one argued!" "Hatake Ichigo," her mother began, setting down her knife with a soft clack onto the cutting board. Ichigo froze at her mothers dangerously level tone. "Have you been going around telling people that the Uchiha clan heir is a eunuch." "Um." Was all she could manage, finally realizing she may have messed up. Just a bit.

Anyways I thought it'd be fun to tackle being trans specifically set in early konoha, and all take a fun little peek at all the world building aspects I could possibly dig into with it!

I have an older post still buried in my drafts about my takes on how it's interesting to think ab how Konoha developing as a village might have impacted the trans experience of its shinobi and civillians— specifically from the standpoint of paperwork.

Thinking something along the lines of, earlier konoha had more unregistered home births and messy paperwork that also made it very easy to go in and change details of by simply going to an office and saying "Hey btw my mom filled out this form wrong when I was born. I'm a girl just so u know." And you'll just kinda get a shrug and a "oh ok cool, I'll change that then"

Vs more modern Konoha where you might get some more complicated loops to jump through and extra paperwork stating specifically that you are trans and would like to Officially Request (tm) a change in the presenting gender listed on your file and also would you like to sign up for our hormone therapy or any gender affirming surgery?

Just like. Thinking ab the little things and progression and changes through time (none specifically good or bad) at how things are done depending on the state of the village. Fun to think about

Sorry anyways:

For this oneshot, if I ever continue it, I also would have fun in playing with how different clans and groups see gender.

Like, Ichigo goes to the Orochi who are rather infamously gender apathetic and kinda just do their own thing as part of their clan culture.

The Shiranui make a cameo with their concepts of how gender can be used as a weapon and presenting yourself certain ways is just another tool in the box to play with for a shinobi

The Inuzuka come in w their matriarchal clan to talk ab the concept of womanhood or smthn quirky like that, I'm not too sure yet but I think it'd be neat if they were there

Just. Having fun exploring the ways different clans and their cultures view and interact with gender. Some clans are welcome to the concept of trans people, some clans legit just don't care, some clans have trans ideas built into their identity, others might think it a bit strange but ultimately not their buisness, etc.

Then also the differences between how shinobi clans treat gender and transness vs how civilians treat it (w the shinobi caring a whole lot less ab it all. Probably bc they have other things to worry about)

Early Konoha is already so ripe w potential as a melting pot of cultures meeting for the first time ever ,,, I wanna play with it.

I will say tho going into it and still now, I kinda just plan on steering clear of transphobia— if it were to appear it'd be in flashes and get a "damn, that's crazy. Anyways." Reaction from Ichigo as she goes back to asking Tobirama if he has a cure for her growing a beard

I like playing things as straight as possible and really leaning hard into "ok but what are ALL the reactions I can get out of this and how do I play with them" but I kinda just. Don't wanna write that. This'd be a fun, silly comedy about a ninja girl learning ab shinobi clan history and gender culture and I will indulge myself on that

ANYWAYS ! thank u for playing the ask game w me Domoz, sorry I dive bombed u w Ichigo for ur reply rip

[evangelinesbible]

MY ASTROLOGICAL LOVE LIFE

SO FAR...

This post will be about how I view love/relationships, the situations I find myself in because of these placements, and how people attracted to me view me because of these placements

TAURUS VENUS

Taurus Venus people typically want partners who are conventionally beautiful and have some sort of stability in their life. (meaning money and some sort of luxury). And for me yeah I gotta be with a partner who is gorgeous I'm sorry but I'm not. Of course other stuff matters and I've given not so attractive people a chance but I've learned that if I'm not fully attracted to them then it's not gonna happen. "Don't you know that a man being rich is like a girl being pretty? You wouldn't marry a girl just because she's pretty but my goodness, doesn't it help?"

Now of course having a Venus ruled Venus can bless the native with beauty. And when I was younger I didn't experience it much but now that I'm older I see it more and more now. whatever type of beauty that I have, I getting certain treatment because of it. Now of course I've used it to my advantage cuz, you'd do the same thing don't lie. But people use the phrase, " Beauty is a curse" for a reason. Certain judgment and preconceived ideas people have of you because of your looks is very real and it transfers into my love life.

Of course I want people to find me attractive and I want a partner that sees me as beautiful but that's not all I want. just like me wanting a gorgeous partner, I also want a stable, reliable, and romantic one. But of course on my end of things my love life has just been, "I think she's hot/pretty/beautiful/" and that's it. its getting stale pretty fast.

VENUS 9H

9H can rule over what you believe in/ worship and having Venus in the 9H can mean that your partners may have a tendency to put you on a pedestal and "worship" you. When I was younger this wasn't that apparent but now that I'm older and in the "real world" I experience it more and more. And don't get me wrong I believe I should be treated like a queen and I should be thoroughly respected but it creeps me out when men come on to me so strong. One of them wanting to take a road trip with me, wanting to run away with me and would always call me a princess and shit when we weren't even together?!?!?!!

I don't even want to know what men are saying about me in private.

VENUS SQAURE NEPTUNE

not only gives me a false security in the illusion of love it also gives other an illusion of me. Venus ruling beauty and Neptune ruling Glamor/Illusion/Fantasy makes love life more complicated than it needs to be. These people might be seen as a dream or unreal to others which on paper sounds cool but its not that fun to experience

Similar to Venus 9H you are put on a pedestal but this time the version of you that these people are lusting/loving or obsessed over isn't real. Or at the very least they are projecting a version of you that you aren't all the time. I don't even want to know what type of fantasies or false perceptions guys have on me. I'm all about trusting my intuition and every guy that was ever interested in me gave me that vibe.

I feel like this placements can indicate someone having high standers because no one can meet the love life these people dream of. But it being square means that I'll have to learn to let go of some of their illusions of love and to truly experience it.

NORHT NODE CONJ. VENUS

In this life the themes of Venus are very important and my souls missions involves all things beauty, love, and the Arts.

specifically with love the major lessons ill learn in this life will be associated with all of my relationships. The first lesson I learned through a relationship was that you can't change people no matter how badly you want two. the second one was you don't owe anybody a relationship just because they treat you the way you should be treated. And I have a feeling I got a lot more lessons to learn

combined with my 7H placements and this aspect I think in this life I was meant to figure what love is to me.

VENUS TRINE JUPITER

Apparently because I have this aspect I'm supposed to be "lucky in love" and yeah no thats not the case for me. This more tells me what type of partner I should settle for. And it makes since that I have yet to be lucky in love because I keep dating people from my hometown/area.

I have no doubt I'll have more luck dating people from far away/foreign places.

VENUS SEXTILE SATURN

explains my pickiness in love/relationships and fathers my previous point of learning a lot of lessons through love/relationships

this might indicate finding the right person for me at a later age and/or learning to date more mature people

VENUS SEXTILE URANUS/URANUS 7H

I always wondered why I get so bored when dating people or having short lived relationships and this makes a lot of sense. the people I pursue have to keep up my attention or ill get bored and end it abruptly

this also explains getting into strange, unique and unconventional situations pertaining to potential partners/romantic interests. Right now I'm dealing with multiple guys at work having a crush on me so thats great. And one of them spikes my anxiety and paranoia because my gut intuition doesn't trust him.

this placement can also indicate someone being very conflicted or closed off on relationships. they crave something unconventional or something different from a normal relationship. These people also love their freedom and don't want a relationship that feels limiting

SUN 7H

the big whammy in my chart. people with Sun the 7H typically really crave love even though it might go against how they project themselves since its the opposite sign of their rising. These people can feel very lonely in life when they don't feel like they have a special someone to love them for them

I'm in the "I don't want a relationship" phase rn which is probably a 7H Sun's worst nightmare lol or at least the most difficult thing for them to go through cuz thats legit all they want. hell its all I want but its not something I need right now. Plus good things comes to those who wait and while I wait I'm just gonna do me and focus on my blog, work, and music.

Do you have any of these placements? Do you view love the same as me? Have you experienced the same experiences as me? 💋

-⚜️💫⚜️

[fanfictionstuff]

Amaimon x reader soulmate AU - part one

I don't know how to format this on tumblr. I just wanted to write a short Amaimon soulmate AU. Obviously, I got a little carried about because it'll be at least two, maybe three chapters.

“Big brother, what’s this?” Amaimon questions, holding up his left hand. Upon his arrival in Assiah, an odd red string has materialized on his little finger, and it doesn’t have a physical presence. Each time Amaimon attempts to touch it, his hand passes through. It hangs around sixteen centimeters from his finger before vanishing in thin air, leaving the demon confused.

Mephisto raises a brow. “I don’t see anything. What is it?”

“You don’t see the red string?”

The King of Time swiftly turns away from the younger demon, suppressing a smile. "A red string? I'm afraid I don't see it. Perhaps it's just an illness until your body adjusts to life in Assiah?" He lies through his teeth. I can’t wait to see how this plays out.

The following day, Amaimon slams a book down on Mephisto's desk. "This book claims that a red string of fate connects soulmates. But mine is severed. Does this mean she's dead?" He asks, gazing at the frayed string in his hand. However, he doesn't seem too concerned about the possibility of her death. Mephisto shrugs nonchalantly, "I can't say for sure. I don't have a string myself, and it's becoming increasingly rare for people in the human world to have one. It's possible that your soulmate could have died hundreds or even thousands of years ago.

“Oh. Okay.”

And with that, Amaimon ignores the odd string on his finger. Instead, his attention turns to exploring Japan.

------

“Rin, you think the spirit of a little boy is evil?” You give Rin a look of disapproval as he attempts to keep Shiemi and you safe. “____, is right, Rin.” You nod. “I’m always right when it involves him.”

Rin stammers through his response, explaining that he wants to keep both of you safe and advising you to listen to him. "Hey! Are either of you even listening to me?" Rin's expression turns stern as he notices you and Shiemi engrossed in your phone. "He's been like this since we were kids; I've learned just to ignore him." You remark to Shiemi, not bothering to look up at Rin. Watching a video compilation of the ghost's appearances gives you some clues about its possible location in the amusement park. Shiemi timidly suggests, "Perhaps it would be easier if we split up? We can each take a different area to search for him." She looks between you and Rin nervously, hoping it’s a good idea the two of you will approve of. 

You nod. “Great idea, Shiemi. It’ll save us a lot of time; which area do you want to go to?”

You watch her as she makes her way to the funhouse. “Shiemi has never been to an amusement park before. Do you think she’ll be okay in the funhouse?” You grin at Rin. “Remember the first time you went in one? You busted your nose after running into the glass in the maze.”  The memory of five-year-old Rin with a bloody nose flashes through your mind; he was so angry. “I hope she doesn’t rush into a mirror or something while chasing him.”

“Do you think we should warn her?” A panicked look crosses Rin’s face. He remembers how much it hurt and doesn’t want Shiemi to have to go through something similar. “Nah, if she does, it’ll be a funny story for her to share.”

“But-“

“No buts- just go look by the rollercoaster. I’ll check out the game stalls.” You nudge him in the direction of the rollercoaster before turning to leave.

The first stall that catches your eye has a goldfish scooping game inside. You can't help but frown at the sight of the fish, some floating lifelessly at the top. How long have they been stuck in the park without being cared for? When was the last time someone fed them?Although you should be searching for the ghost, you feel compelled to clean up the little pool. Maybe it will attract the spirit's attention? Fortunately, there is a freshwater hose nearby. You can drain and refill the small pool holding the fish. You spot a large white bucket that could hold all of the fish while you clean up their pool. It couldn't make things any worse, right? Lost in thought about the neglected fish, you begin cleaning when your main focus should be finding the missing boy. There’s enough of you guys in the park. Taking a moment to care for the fish shouldn't be a big deal.

As the pool starts to fill, the lights suddenly flicker on, and the rollercoaster roars to life. Who turned on the electricity? Wait Rin, he’s at the rollercoaster, right? Your thoughts are confirmed when you see a burst of blue flames. What is Rin doing? It’s a tiny ghost child. There’s no way a ghost has caused this much trouble. So, what is Rin attacking?

What do I do? On the one hand, Rin is your best friend. On the other hand, you’ll be completely useless and might even get in the way. Yukio surely has noticed and is probably on his way there. It’s probably best for me to stay out of the way. 

You frown. “What happened?!” Rin is on his knees, looking distressed and battered. “Rin, we’re only supposed to find the ghost! What were you doing? Was there a fight? What happened?” You motion to his beaten body. “And your tail, why is it visible? You need to hide it.”

——-

“Big Brother.” Mephisto frowns at the young demon crawling through his window. “Amaimon, use the door.”

Amaimon ignores the comment. Instead, he lifts his left hand, his eyes following the new length of his string. “It’s longer.” His gaze follows it out the window, though it does seem to disappear at some point. Farther away, much farther. “Oh? Maybe your soulmate has just been born.” Mephisto rubs his chin in thought. He can’t truly say what it means. It’s rare enough for humans to have soulmates. He’s never come across a demon who has a red string. “In that case, you’ll have to wait at least eighteen years.” He shrugs nonchalantly. 

Amaimon squats down, biting on his right thumbnail while lifting his left little finger to his eyes. “I want to find her.”

“I don’t think that’s a wise decision.” He tells Amaimon with a tired glance. Just this morning, Amaimon didn’t care about the idea of his soulmate possibly being deceased. Is it because the red string is now most likely connecting them that Amaimon suddenly feels more attached to her? 

Mephisto’s words fall on deaf ears as Amaimon disappears just as quickly as he appeared.

As you listen to Rin’s story, you settle comfortably on his bed. “A demon king?” You raise a brow. “And your sword was taken by Yamada, who isn’t really a student; they’re that woman with red and yellow hair, whose real name is Shura?” 

“Yes.”

“Aw, I should’ve gone to see for myself. I stayed back because I didn’t want to get in the way, but now I’m really curious. Tell me, what did he look like? He’s a king, you said Demon King of Earth? Was he like some kind of massive stone demon?" You imagine a gross-looking demon that might fit. “What? No. He looked more human than that. I don’t know- I wasn’t exactly focused on his appearance. He definitely looked strange; he had green hair and was dressed really weirdly.” Rin leans back in his chair and gazes up at the ceiling. “Why do you care what he looks like anyway?”

You shrug. “Just curious. You said he’s a demon king. So, I couldn’t help but wonder what a demon king looks like. Anyway, from what you said, it’s amazing you’re still alive. Pretty sure the rest of us wouldn’t have survived that.” You quickly bite your tongue, not wanting to inflate his ego too much with compliments. If you do, he’ll probably be insufferably proud for the next week.

———- 

You let out a heavy sigh and run your hand down your face. Today has been exhausting. Wait. Suddenly, you sit up straight in the bed, noticing something different about your left hand. “IT’S LONG! RIN IT’S LONG!” Excitement rushes through you as you jump off the bed and shove your little finger in Rin’s face, forgetting for a moment that he can’t see it. “What is- wait, are you talking about your string?” You nod, excitedly. The string had been there your whole life, though cut off and only around fifteen centimeters long. Why has it been extended now? “Yes! It’s long, but I don’t know how long.” You nudge him gently to the side so you can see it leading out the window, “It’s really long. Oh my god, what do I do?”

Rin follows your gaze, even though he can’t see the string. “Does that mean you have a soulmate?” Your excitement starts to twist with nervousness. “I guess? But who could it be? And why did it show up now.” A curious look crosses Rin’s face. “Huh, maybe they were just born?” 

“No! Don’t say that. I’m eighteen.” You slap his shoulder. “Anyway, should I try to follow it? I kind of want to try to follow it.” You grin brightly. 

“Follow it?” 

“Yes? What else am I supposed to do? Just stare at the now extended string?”

“So, it just suddenly became longer, in this moment?” Rin questions.

“Actually, I don’t know.” 

“What? How do you not notice a long red string as soon as it appears?!” 

You shove Rin back. “I don’t know, I never pay attention to it, and it’s really thin so I didn’t notice it on the ground. It’s like a string of thread.” Even now you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t really focused on it. “Would it be weird if I start to follow it now?” 

“The sun is about to set _____, demon activity will be higher.” Rin reminds. 

“You gonna go with me to protect me?” You joke. However, Rin misses the joke, and his ego inflates. “Yes.” He puffs out his chest. “I’ll even protect you from your soulmate if needed.” 

“Never mind, I’ll look by myself.” 

“____!”

As you step out into the dimming light of the evening, you follow the red string with growing anticipation. Rin stays close behind, a mix of protectiveness and curiosity evident in his demeanor. The string leads you through the streets, twisting and turning in unexpected directions that make you wonder where it might ultimately lead.

After what feels like hours of following the string, you find yourself standing in front of a streetlight. Your eyes widen as you glance up, then quickly snap back to Rin. “Hey Rin, could you grab something in that shop? I’m kind of hungry.” 

“You can’t go yourself?” 

“You know what I like here, get something for yourself too.” You shove some money in his hands when you’re sure he’s in the shop; you lift your hand, eyes slowly following the string on your finger to the finger of the figure sitting on top of the streetlight. Your soulmate. “Is it safe to assume you’re the demon that fought Rin today?” Even with Rin’s poor description. This demon above you fits what he said. With his choice in style, it’s hard to focus on one part: his long burgundy jacket, odd forest green arm warmers, and shorts with tights? His red striped shirt with a beige vest and tie matched his shirt. It’s a lot to take in. “Yes, I went to play with him, but he was no fun.” His tone is childish and blunt. “So, you’re my soulmate, right?” He questions, waving his hand in the air. The light reflects in his golden eyes, making them almost seem to glow. “You smell odd.” The demon jumps from the light, landing just centimeters from you, nearly nose to nose. Odd? You take a step back, embarrassment washing over you. This demon, your soulmate, thinks you smell odd. “I like it.” At his words, calmness washes away the embarrassment. “What’s your name?” As he speaks, he reaches for your left hand, observing the string that connects you. 

[claudemblems]

Patching Your Wounds | Kaveh

"You're injured."

Kaveh's face fell as he gazed upon your hand, the skin littered with dozens of bloody cuts and scratches. How you got them, he didn’t know. All he did know was that the sight broke his heart.

"Kaveh, I'm–"

"Don't 'I'm fine' me," he said sternly, his voice coming out sharper than he meant it to. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before trying again. "You're not going anywhere until this is taken care of. Sit here. I'll be back with medicine and bandages."

You didn’t have the heart to refuse him, not when he looked at you with such sorrow in his eyes, so you opted to make yourself comfortable while you waited.

Less than a minute later, Kaveh returned from the bathroom with all the necessary supplies in hand. He crouched down on the wooden floor beside you, motioning for you to give him your hand. You did, and he gently took it into his own, assessing the extent of your injuries. He frowned slightly, and a twinge of guilt pricked at your heart.

But Kaveh didn't speak a word, probably because he knew his concerns would come off as a harsh scolding instead. So he silently began his work, first disinfecting the cuts and scratches before treating them with antibiotics.

"Some pesky treasure hoarders decided it would be a good idea to try to jump me," you began, choosing your words carefully. It wouldn't be wise to mention any details that might make Kaveh even more anxious. "It would have worked on any average civilian, but I'm a seasoned adventurer. Their plan was doomed the moment they underestimated me."

"And what were you doing that led you to be in an area filled with Treasure Hoarders?" 

"Uh…just some adventuring stuff. Look, Kaveh, I wasn't in any real danger, okay? I only left with some scratches."

"Scratches that armed strangers left on you!" Kaveh closed his eyes, biting back all the emotions threatening to burst. "I'm just…worried about you, okay? Whether your injuries are miniscule scrapes or cuts, they’re a visible reminder that I wasn't there to protect you. I let someone else hurt you. I let someone mar your skin with wounds that have to heal. I should have been there to whisk you away to safety, but I wasn't. And for that, I'm incredibly angry at myself, and I'm sorry to you that I wasn't there when you needed me."

The sadness pooling in Kaveh's eyes made yours sting with tears. With your free hand, you pulled his head against your chest, fingers gliding through his silky strands of hair. "Even if I had far worse injuries, I would never blame you, Kaveh, and you shouldn't blame yourself either. Unexpected circumstances are bound to happen, and we should be glad that I only left with a few scratches on my hand."

"...I know you're right, but in a perfect world, I'd never let anyone with ill intentions lay a finger on you."

"And the world we live in will never be perfect, so we should be prepared for whatever may lie ahead. We'll both end up with our own bumps and bruises, but they're a testament that we made it out alive. We can always patch each other up afterwards."

You felt him relax against you, his quick heartbeat finally beginning to slow. "I just don't ever want to see you hurt..." he whispered, wrapping an arm around your middle. "You are the best gift I've ever received, and if anything were to happen to you, my life would lose all its meaning. I could never continue on without you by my side, so please, look out for yourself, My Treasure."

Your heart skipped a beat at the pet name, one that Kaveh reserved only for the most intimate of occasions.

"I promise you, Kaveh, that I'll never leave before it's my time." You held him tighter, placing a kiss atop his hair. "I'll make sure you will never have anything precious torn from you ever again. And I'll do everything in my power to replace all the grief of your past with a future of never-ending happiness."

Kaveh pulled away to meet your eyes, one of his signature bright smiles gracing his lips. “My Love, you’ve already made me the happiest man in all of Teyvat just by being mine.”

Heat rushed to your face as you buried your head in the crook of his neck. “You sure know how to say such pleasing words.”

Kaveh chuckled, lips pressing against the crown of your head. “What can I say? You’ve made me quite the hopeless romantic, Darling.”

“All these pet names at once are going to make my heart burst.”

“Oh, that just won’t do. We still haven’t finished patching up your other wounds. How would I patch up your heart as well?”

You thought for a moment before giving Kaveh a cheeky smile. “Maybe a few kisses would suffice.”

“Oh? Well, that I can do. Let’s get you bandaged up right away so I can administer the rest of the medicine. Don’t worry, the healing properties of the kisses can be felt immediately. So the sooner I can kiss your symptoms away, the better!"

And you received many kisses that night, even long after your heart returned to normal.

[luxury-nightmare]

inspired by nerdymixedpan on tiktok

Ranking Magnus fears by How likely I am to serve them/how freaked out I am by them (including the Extinction because I will never forget about my underrated king)

1, The Eye

How freaked out am I by it? 3/10. My sister will come barging into my room uninvited anyway so the fear of being watched doesn’t really freak me out.

How likely am I to serve it?

7/10. I listened to 200 episodes of gay people suffering. What do you think

2, The Lonely

5/10 the person who I took this idea from said it best. This is schrodinger's fear. Cause on one hand, I like being alone. I spend most of my time huddled up in my room. But on the other hand, the enjoyment mostly comes from being awful at social situations and accidentally hurting peoples feelings when I talk to them

8/10 I said it already. I already isolate myself give me the banish powers. Gentle voiced old man I’m coming for your crown.

3, The Spiral

5/10 not exactly. Honestly the thought of me being crazy is probably not my greatest fear, it’s more the system for mentally ill people. I once let a couple things slip and was taken to a mental hospital, and the only thing I could think is “is there something wrong with me?” which, in my humble opinion, is not something someone struggling with mental illness should be thinking in a place that’s supposed to help them

5/10 would I be a good spiral avatar? No. Would I leap at the chance? Absolutely. I wanna see door wife and fuckhands mcmike

4, The Stranger

6/10 I do not fuck with uncanny valley shit. 4/10 I am a theater kid, so this could be right up my alley, but all the avatars are glorified theater kids so I think I’ll pass

5, The Desolation

2/10 I was scared of fire as a kid, but that’s the extent of my fear towards it.

4/10 Fire is pretty, I like setting things on fire, and Agnes is hot (pun intended) but that’s pretty much it

6, The Corruption

5/10 sickness and illness freak me out, but I’m chill with bugs. 2/10 no

7, The Vast

6/10 I went through a huge nihilism phase in middle school so that would factor into it. Honestly having an astronomy class is not going to help with this. But lately it’s less “nothing matters” and more “nothing matters so you can fuck up as much as you need”

8/10 enjoy sky blue motherfuckers!

8, The Buried

6/10 honestly this is a new one. I like to be in small spaces, but I cannot handle caves. I think I can blame Pastra’s Ted the caver video and the lost johns cave episode for this. But also, if we think about The Buried as The Vast opposite and pulled from its more metaphorical aspects (I know the show doesn’t do this very often but bear with me) the fear that everyone depends on you and if you fuck up even slightly everyone will hate you forever? Yeah that’s me

4/10 has we ever met a buried avatar? I have no point of reference. Four out of ten

9, The Web

4/10 this is a tricky one. I’m chill with spiders but the manipulation part for me comes not from the fear that I’m being manipulated, more the fear that I’m being manipulative. That I’m tricking people into caring about me and doing what I want when I really just need to tough it out (would this feed into The Spiral? Not really, right?)

7/10 Spiders, killer aesthetic, breaking the fourth wall. Let me in.

10, The Flesh

9/10 no. No no. No no. No gross. Gross gross gross. Have you seen the episode where the guy hammers all the meat to his apartment and it’s starts to rot through the ceiling? Gross get it away from me.

0/10 no Jared I am not joining your cottagecore lesbian garden leave me alone

11, The Hunt

2/10 I feel like this one should freak me out more than it does. I live in the mountains, surrounded by wild animals, and I have terrible stamina. But honestly? It’s like Jon said. It’s natural. If I don’t bother them they don’t bother me.

3/10 I have terrible stamina. I would make a terrible hunt avatar

12, The Slaughter

5/10 I have strong feelings about war. But there less fear and more disgust, anger, and sadness.

2/10 although it would be nice to go apeshit once and a while, this is a hard no.

13, The Dark

1/10 dude I vibe with the dark. It doesn’t freak me out at all.

9/10 I am practically nocturnal. My sona is the embodiment of darkness incarnate. Hard yes. Give me the shadow powers

14, The End

6/10 honestly this feat comes from less from death itself and more what comes after, and my family’s reaction. The idea of nonexistence is terrifying and maybe there’s something worse. I watched a Scp video, I forgot the specific number, but it was an idea of what happens after death. Essentially, you stay conscious, but you cannot move, trapped in your own body feeling every slow pain of rot or cremation as your atoms split apart over millennium. So yeah, death itself is fine but everything after is scary

8/10 I’ve always had a fascination with death, not actual people dying, but the pomp and glamour we give death. Graveyards and funerals and death gods and all that jazz. Gothic stuff. Also The End is technically the only fear that can win in the long run. The End will come for us all.

15, The Extinction

7/10 Watch the news and you’ll understand what i mean. I was like 5 when I first learned about climate change and I promptly put that in a box in the back of my brain and tried to forget it ever existed.

10/10 dude this isn’t even about the killer aesthetic, this is just cause it’s criminally underrated. Extinction my fear I will be your avatar since no one else will be. Also dude it would be so easy, just send some random people inflammatory news articles, push some people into a hell dimension, and you’re done! Also if any of the other fears complete a ritual, that’s a whole ass free buffet!

TL:DR: Extinction is underrated and Hello jon. apologies for the deception, but i wanted to make sure you started reading, so i thought it best not to announce myself. I'm assuming youre alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldnt try to stop reading; there's every likelihood you'll just hurt your self. So just listen. Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

[system-of-a-feather]

Honestly, one of the large reasons I'm pro-endo is because I genuinely and honestly think that one of the best things for DID is normalizing experiences of consistent inconsistencies and have drastically different parts of yourself that can at times display drastically different which is NOT a disorder specific thing - and regardless of what terms we use to describe ourselves whether thats system, parts, headmates, singlets, facets, aspects, complex multifaceted person yada yada - whatever it is that endogenics experience is also an expression of self/selves that shares that "consistently inconsistent" and "drastically different parts of yourself that can at times display drastically different" that people with DID and other CDDs have.

I think that everyone - trauma or not - should have the right and ability to be as consistently inconsistent as they feel is natural to them, and if that goes out to having different names, genders, aesthetics, sense of self, whatever thats cool by me.

And genuinely, I think it does help (though anyone credited endogenics for all of the positive changes in the CDD communities is being a clown and erasing the work from individuals with CDD themselves) normalize some of the more stigmatizing aspects of living with DID.

I would much rather be surrounded with a bunch of people who don't bat an eye at having parts that go by different names and identities and have different likes and dislikes because "yeah i know people who have that and its not a big deal" than someone who goes "OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO HAVE A SEVERE MENTAL ILLNESS TO BE LIKE THAT" cause no? You don't have to have a severe mental illness to express yourselves as you naturally would? Yeah is it a kinda weird expression? Sure. But "weird" is literally only defined by the "normal" person and the idea of a "normal" person can 1) be changed and 2) is often used for more harm than good.

Do I think there are some large issues and problematic behavior that needs to be talked about in the overall community? Sure, probably - I can't say for sure cause I don't involve myself much in the endo/endo adjacent communities, but yeah probably. Do I think there are discussions that have to be made about terms and ways to prevent misinformation about CDDs in those spaces? Yeah of course. Do I think there is a need to talk about means of respecting the inherent extreme PTSD response and therefore disordered and clinical nature of DID without making it something that is a 'lesser' or 'broken' form of what endos experience? Absolutely.

But I really think the idea of denying that people - without trauma - could experience themselves in drastically different ways, experience themselves in a multifaceted form that identifies independently, and use labels that make sense to them, I really think you are denying yourself a lot of what you - as your heal - can choose to be like.

[beesmygod]

yesterday was webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 4: the art

this part i feel like gets done semi-easy once the rest of the shit is dealt with. yesterday, my knuckles continued to swell and feel like rotten wood so i had to cut it short. this shit happens more frequently than i would prefer. today i need to run to the store and also pick myself up a lil treat (an eighth). for right now tho i have some cbd rich stuff that should help. maybe. while the index finger still hurts, only the middle knuckle is swollen anymore. let's see.

i started with panels 2 and 3 bc they seemed the least immediately labor intensive. ill be copy/pasting the line/flats for panel 3 to edit from there. t...there's going to be a lot of copy/paste this page. its not usually like that. but i usually only copy/paste the lines and flats. i will re-shade things so that they look different

unlike the sketch, the lineart has more "weight" to it. wait thats not how the pillow would deform. hold on.

ok that's better. did people even notice that before i changed it. probably not. but it matters to me!!!!! these little things add up and add weight to your world!!!! ive been trying new things with line as as of [looks at watch] last week. so it looks bad right now. like someones vague idea of what good lineart is supposed to look like. practice makes perfect tho....or breeds familiarity or something.

some parts of this look weird. dont worry. we will cover up that shit with speech bubbles. thank you comics for your ways of obfuscating bad art.

flats are easy. select everything that isnt your line art, invert the selection, and dump a base layer. then color that base layer with a mask

this page will, blessedly, not have any complex backgrounds. i already established the scene previously and can skate on doing my textured backgrounds. the background gradients in the direction the light in the room is being cast, usually.

first, a multiply layer at 50%. since she's facing away from the light source, she'll be mostly in shadow. then a white overlay layer at 50%; this is to make the first shadow layer pop and keep from getting too muddy. then a second multiply layer at 50% for the next layer of shadows.

added some sweat beads to make her look more haggard and some shine to her hair, since she's so close to the light. i've started bothering doing this bc it unfortunately looks good. finally i add one more multiply layer at 40% over her eyes to make her look more over this entire thing. and then added the red glow in another overlay layer (100%) where it would land if being cast from above.

completely servicable and theres room for like. a speech bubble later. usually i do text first, but in this case its so secondary to the actions being performed, i want to prioritize one over the other.

looking at it, im not going to be able to copy/paste this after all. she's going to settle in more and her body will rotate too much in the process. i can use this as a base to trace over, though, which will get me started.

but pain is occurring so im going to eat breakfast. what a bitch!

[lem0nade-gurl]

Maddvi (Maddie x Vi) fanfic I’m making Bcs I love this shop with all my heart. I wanna know how to make this fic better so I’m gonna post it here for feedback ; also, this is only chapter 1 and 2 bcs chapter 3 is still a WIP, but if this does good ill finish it. Anyway enjoy ^w^!

Chapter I: “Hung Me Out To Dry”

Maddie had never ventured into the Undercity before—at least, not off duty. The place felt foreign to her, even dangerous, especially now, with the heavy tension lingering in the air since Ambessa and Caitlyn’s declaration of martial law. For a fleeting moment, she considered turning back, retreating to her cramped apartment in Piltover, and pretending this journey had never crossed her mind. But she couldn’t—not with what, or rather who, waited down here.

The echo of Noxian fists pounding against their chests had been too much to bear. Maddie had abandoned the scene to find Vi. She hadn’t seen her since Caitlyn had insisted on continuing the “Find Jinx” mission alone, claiming it would be better that way. Maddie hadn’t been convinced, and she hadn’t stopped worrying since. When she asked Loris if he had any idea where Vi might be, he had laughed, recalling how Vi, in a drunken haze, had overshared about her personal life—including, fortunately, her address.

And now here Maddie was, standing outside a three-story apartment building, narrow and weathered, tucked into the chaotic sprawl of the Undercity. She’d walked past it twice, dismissing it as abandoned before realizing her mistake. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d say when Vi answered the door. Professionalism didn’t seem necessary, but she still wanted to present herself with some degree of composure.

She pressed the third-floor doorbell. The faint chime echoed from above, strangely clear against the unnerving silence of the street. The wait stretched on, every second feeling heavier than the last. Maddie shifted her weight, wondering if she should try again. But then, a door creaked open behind her, snapping time back into motion.

Vi peered through a narrow crack in the door, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. When recognition hit, she opened it wider, her expression equal parts annoyance and surprise. 
“You?” Vi’s voice carried an edge, though it lacked its usual bite.
Maddie blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Were you expecting someone else?” she shot back, her tone laced with unintentional sass. Old habits died hard.

“What are you doing here? How did you even find me?” Vi demanded, her tone sharper now.
“Loris told me. Apparently, you’re chatty when you’re drunk,” Maddie said matter-of-factly. “And I was worried about you.”

Vi’s scowl deepened, her eyes narrowing. “Worried? About what? I can handle myself, carrot top. Now beat it.” She moved to shut the door, but Maddie’s foot shot forward, wedging it open. “Caitlyn’s declaring martial law,” Maddie blurted, her urgency stopping Vi in her tracks. The name—or perhaps the situation—seemed to grab her attention. Maddie pressed on. “This might lead to a civil war.”

Vi scoffed, crossing her arms. “What does that have to do with me? I can’t stop a war.”
“You can’t,” Maddie admitted, “but maybe you can stop its commander.” Vi’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering behind her guarded expression. Maddie took a breath, steadying herself. “Caitlyn might listen to you. If you can convince her to call this off... She was on the right path with you by her side, but then you left—”

“I didn’t leave,” Vi snapped, her voice cutting through Maddie’s words like a blade. Her gaze turned sharp, her jaw tight. “Caitlyn was the one who hung me out to dry.”

Maddie stared at Vi, her eyes wide with surprise. She hadn’t known that. It certainly wasn’t the story Caitlyn had told her when she returned to Piltover without the pink-haired woman by her side. The revelation left Maddie silent for a moment, but then she spoke softly. “Well then... she made a mistake,” Maddie said, her voice steady, almost soothing. “One she clearly can’t fix on her own. That’s why she needs you.”

Vi’s expression was difficult to read—or maybe it wasn’t. Maddie often found Vi’s perpetual scowl impossible to decipher, though it seemed to lean more toward anger than anything else. She decided not to press further. When Vi finally spoke, her words carried a weight Maddie hadn’t heard before.

There was something raw and unguarded in her tone. “I’m done trying to change people.”

Without waiting for a response, Vi turned her back on Maddie and started up the stairs. Maddie didn’t try to stop her this time. She remained frozen in place, listening as Vi’s footsteps faded, followed by the dull sound of a door closing and the distinct click of a lock. Maddie stood there, staring up at the empty stairwell. She told herself Vi would come around. People often said Maddie’s best—and worst—trait was her inability to quit. But even so, this encounter felt heavy, like she’d already lost.

Still, Maddie would try again. If not for Caitlyn, then for Piltover. And if not for Piltover, then for Vi.

——————————————————————————Chapter II: “Bringing Home a Champion”

Maddie squeezed through the rowdy crowd of ruffians and overly confident gamblers. She’d never understood the thrill of gambling—relying on luck, basing outcomes purely on chance, especially when money was involved. Draped in a dark red cape to blend into the chaos, she tried to mask her Piltover ties. But beneath the cape, her attire defined her. She wore a tailored brown vest over a crisp cream-colored shirt, paired with tan, wide-legged trousers. Despite how hard she tried, she still stood out.

Her destination loomed ahead: the pit. It had been her destination yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. She often wondered why she kept coming back. It wasn’t for the carnage, certainly—not to watch blood and teeth scatter across the floor like gruesome confetti. No, it was for Vi. Always Vi.

And as if summoned by the thought, Vi emerged from the shadows, streaks of black paint slashed across her face like war paint. She moved with purpose, her posture sturdy as she stepped into the arena.

The fight unfolded as it usually did. Vi dominated in the early rounds, racking up a winning streak as her fists met flesh with brutal precision. But by the later rounds, the injuries she’d sustained began to slow her down, leaving her vulnerable. Whether she won or lost came down to those final moments—a gamble in itself. That unpredictability, Maddie suspected, was what the crowd came for. Would she rise again, or would this be the match that took her down?

Tonight, Vi didn’t disappoint. With a devastating uppercut, she sent her opponent sprawling to the ground, unconscious before he hit the ground. The crowd erupted, a cacophony of cheers and groans as money changed hands. Maddie, for her part, felt no joy or frustration. She wasn’t here to win or lose. She was here for Vi.

“I should be honored,” Maddie thought wryly as she watched Vi regain her strength through the cheers with a stoic face. “I’m bringing home a champion.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Vi heard the scrape of a chair being pulled out beside her, the legs groaning against the pavement.

“Vodka, salted caramel, please.” came a familiar voice.

Vi didn’t look up. She stared into her empty glass as the bartender began preparing the order. “Didn’t know you drank,” she said, her tone casual, almost indifferent. “What made you think that?” Maddie replied, nodding in thanks as the bartender slid her drink across the counter.

Vi shrugged, still not meeting her gaze. “Figured you could drink—just thought you’d be more into cocktails or something fancy. Never struck me as the vodka kind of gal.”. Maddie hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip of her drink. “I don’t drink often. Only on special occasions.”

“Oh?” Vi finally glanced her way, an edge of sarcasm in her tone. “You celebrating something?”

Maddie caught it—a subtle jab, one that most people wouldn’t notice. But she’d spent enough time around Vi to recognize the layers in her voice. “Yeah,” Maddie said, a small grin tugging at her lips. “This is your fifth win in a row.”

Vi raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by Maddie’s attempt at enthusiasm. They both knew she didn’t exactly support Vi’s fighting “career”. If that’s truly what you’d call it. Scoffing, Vi leaned back in her chair. “Oh, so now you’re supportive?”

Maddie shrugged. “If you can’t beat em’, join em’ I suppose.” Maddie concluded, taking the last swig of her drink. “Okay,” Maddie sighed, getting up from her chair and leaving a few coins on the counter for the bartender. “Lets get you home while you can still walk in a straight line.” She encouraged Vi, definitely expecting some form of pushback. Vi groaned, “I can have a few more, I’m not a lightweight.”

“Fine, suit yourself,” Maddie said with an oddly calm voice, which grasped Vi’s attention. “I was just worried you wouldn’t be sober enough to appreciate the gift I brought you.” Maddie said in a defeated voice. Vi finally looked back at Maddie, who was now standing behind her.

She looked at her empty glass, then back at the woman who was staring at her with her eyebrows raised and her eyes expectant. Vi sighed, and put down a few coins on the counter before getting on her feet. “This better be good, Butterscotch.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. At first, Vi was convinced Maddie kept coming back because no one else could tolerate talking to her for longer than absolutely necessary. But eventually, she stopped questioning it. She began to grudgingly accept Maddie’s presence. They found a few common interests, and their conversations shifted—light, casual, sometimes even calming.

Spending time with Maddie didn’t feel tedious anymore. In fact, Vi started to look forward to it. If Maddie didn’t show up one day, Vi couldn’t shake the absence, carrying it with her until they crossed paths again. She didn’t even realize she was spending less money at the bar. Time seemed to slip away when Maddie was around.

Then came the night Maddie walked her home.

Maddie always walked Vi back to her apartment after nights at the bar, especially when Vi had slammed back one too many shots. That night was no different. But Maddie must have noticed Vi’s bad habit of forgetting to lock her door when she got home drunk, because shortly after Vi collapsed onto her bed, there was a knock.

It was Maddie, standing in the doorway with that exasperated, concerned look she often wore when dealing with Vi. “You shouldn’t go to sleep with the door unlocked,” she’d said firmly, like it was a lecture.

Vi, bleary-eyed and half-tangled in her bedsheets, was too tired to argue. “If it bothers you so much, just spend the night with me, then,” she muttered, waving a dismissive hand.

She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but the way Maddie froze in the doorway—and the way her cheeks flushed a deep pink—made Vi pause. Maddie looked surprised, maybe even intrigued. Vi was drunk, but not drunk enough to miss it. Flustered but quick to recover, Maddie stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

Nothing happened that night. Not really. But the tension in the air had been thick, charged, almost magnetic. Even in her drunken haze, Vi had felt it. She still remembered every detail as if it were yesterday—how Maddie looked in the slightly oversized shirt she’d borrowed, how Vi wished she hadn’t been so quick to agree when Maddie asked if she could sleep on the floor. She should’ve told her to stay on the bed.

Instead, they’d spent the night talking softly, sharing a few songs, and half-watching a movie before falling asleep apart from each other.

Now, walking side by side with Maddie under a vibrant sunset, Vi couldn’t stop thinking about that night. Maddie’s voice bubbled with excitement as she rambled on about the gift she’d gotten for Vi, her words brimming with pride and anticipation. Vi barely heard her.

It hit her, then and there. She didn’t want to miss her chance again.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Vi let herself sink into the moment. Maddie glanced up at her, her eyes sparkling with that unique mix of excitement and glee she always had when she thought she’d done something special.

When they reached the building, Vi nearly kissed her. The urge was there, strong and insistent, but she stopped herself. It would be better once they were inside. Together. Alone.

——————————————————————————

Okay that’s it :>

[sweetchaosbabe]

I hope this isnt trauma dumping or sm but i just needed to get this out and also get some advice and i think i really like ur advice. So i have been jn a relationship w my bf for 2 years now and i love him with my heart and soul and we plan to get married ( ee are still young but we see that as the futuregoal) so up tntil a few months back i used to just go to random s*x chat groups and something and would share my nudes nd just stuff like that and would also watch p*rn .. these are both things that me and my bf would a 100% consider cheating and if he did this to me i would kill myself out of sorrow. I absolutely hate myself and am disgusted at myself i was distracted for a little while with my exams but now they are over and now im crying all the time again just thinking about what i did to the boy i love the most. At the time i didnt think much of it and at first i would just talk w people but slowly i started sharing nudes and i did this a couple of times until i realized a few months back how wrong it is. I have no idea how i didnt realise how wrong this is?Up until this i was a really good person i dont think ive ever hurt anybody and i am very nice also but now idk i just hate myself and everything about me .Every day whenever i think aboyt this i cant help but cry and think there really isnt anything else i can do. Of course i have changed and wouldnt think of doing such a thing again but still the fact that i did it in the first place makes me want to die.

Ik its so selfish but i cant keeo thinking that he will do sm like this to me also and that ill get my karma. Does karma really even exist and how do i get myself to atop thinking this now i always suspect him of cheating and talking to other girls. Hes done sm similar to cheating to me but nothing on this level. What he did is nothing ckmpared to what i did.

And in the context of manifesting, should i manifest that none of this ever happened and for me to be a really nice person or shoukd i manifest that this completely gets erased from my memory or what?? This also messes up my manifestion so much i cant helo hut tell myself that i dont deserve good things as im a bad person . Please help. If youre not comfortable answering this then im sorry for wasting ur time

Hey babe, I’m really sorry you're feeling this way. First, let me say this: you are not a bad person. We all make mistakes, and what you did doesn’t define your worth. What’s important is that you recognize the situation and want to grow from it—that shows you have a lot of self-awareness and care.

As for manifesting, this is a beautiful opportunity to shift your mindset. Here’s what I’d suggest:

Forgive Yourself: Manifesting starts with how you see yourself. If you keep telling yourself you’re bad or don’t deserve good things, you’ll stay in that cycle of lack. Start affirming that you deserve love, you are forgiven, and you are enough. We all do things we’re not proud of, but holding onto guilt keeps you stuck.

Focus on the Present: Instead of manifesting that it “never happened,” focus on who you are now. Say things like, “I am always loyal and honest,” “I am growing every day,” and “I create beautiful relationships.” Don’t manifest from guilt or fear—manifest from a place of love for yourself.

Karma and Fear: Karma doesn’t mean you’re doomed to be punished. It’s more about energy. If you keep focusing on fear or punishment, that’s the energy you’ll bring into your life. Instead, shift to trust and positivity. Affirm, “I trust my partner fully,” and “My relationship is healthy and secure.”

Lastly, please take care of your mental health, too. Talking to someone you trust or seeking professional support can really help.

You deserve to feel good and live fully. Sending love your way

[gorgeousmanfounddeadinacroptop]

4 minutes ep 3 running commentary (my first one)

-one more murder and wed need garcia and the bau on the case

-ok so done (?) is alive and not tonklas brother good

-gonna be real i have no idea whats going on

-ok if i was in school and someone came up to me and asked me "do you know so and sos schedule and whats their favorite drink" id call the cops

-its ok we are in BL World™️

-should i fuck up a thai tea and som tam for lunch tomorrow hmm

-im sorry did he just dap up a guy hes on a date with and has seen visions of them having nasty freaky sex ?

-so shes sleeping with the boss for info we also dont know her name

-i will make a separate post but i dont think tyme is working with the woman or anything he doesnt seem like hed care enough hes focused on passing his exams and making money this is risky

-was that a bong i wasnt paying good attention

-HE JUST SAID HE WAS ON PREP COME ON

-i have mixed feelings on the casual and transactional sex bc its realistic but also this is a bl lets have some romance

-from my time watching 7 seasons of criminal minds the murder is a man from the phrasing of that letter 🤓☝️

-he has a GREAT ass ... ill see myself out

-sex? circled in red

-see how they made him write at weird angles bc hes left handed this is discrimination at its finest (im left handed)

-i feel like when the clock gets to 11:04 we are so fucked

-ok but WHY is mr i dont give a fuck about anything but getting money my grandma and thus cute patient sorta trying to take down a crime ring??? anyone?

-bc that was definitely tyme beating the shit out of korn

-WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON GUYS I DONT UNDERSTAND

[fruitycasket]

Pot Roast! (Sunspell)

I don't know how to write people being happy... So I made a compromise with myself and had Marvin be sick, so then Moira (first) and Sunday (second) can come to his aid and make him a bit happier. Also Higgins is there being (un)helpful.

Also. I made myself hungry. Pot roast is good (and it cooks itself!). :>

(Also up on Ao3 under RottenFruitz)

“You should've called me, you're burning up!” Moira shook her head at the unseen but undoubtedly high number displayed on her thermometer.

Wow, I had no idea. Had it been anyone else, Marvin would have said that aloud. For Moira, he mumbled, "You didn't have to come over."

To that, she snorted. "Not like it's my job or anything. Can you stand?"

No. No he could not. "I'm a man, I can get m'own medicine."

"And end up crawling back to your bed?"

"Ah… well…" That was an accurate assessment of how Marvin handled debilitating sickness. Grumbling half-legible rebuttals, he sank further into bed. Perched on his chest as he had been since daylight broke, Higgins purred, the noise going steady like the hum of a generator. The cat seemed to think he was helping but the extra body heat was the last thing Marvin wanted.

He was scalding hot, sweaty, and mouthbreathing as he lay on top of his duvet. Every now and then be broke into a fit of wet, choking coughs or was seized by several sneezes in a row. What had been the sniffles yesterday was now a full-blown, disabling flu. Or something like that. Maybe Moira had told him otherwise and he hadn't heard or forgotten.

“You need is rest,” Moira chided him, "Which means you stay in this bed until you're feeling better."

"All day? I'll go mad."

"You will be if I find out you've not listened to me."

Marvin hesitated. "Yeah, I will be."

He'd only told Sunday he was ill, and had only meant for Sunday and his friends to know, but he must have sounded seconds from keeling over if the news had gotten to Moira anyway. Did one of them have her phone number? That was a little disconcerting for a reason he couldn't place. That, or they'd just gone to his mum's house, and he didn't feel better about that, either.

Moira said something about getting him medicine and water. Marvin wasn't really listening. His brain, currently cooking in its own immune response, was struggling to keep up its usual activities, and he had all but used up its computing space with that single conversation and the following bit of thinking. Moira left and she could have been gone for a minute or an hour, but when she returned, she spooned Marvin two different medicines, set a glass of cool water on his nightstand, and kissed him on the forehead.

(Then, at the cat's insistence, she gave Higgins a kiss, too.)

“You should feel less shitty in a little while,” Moira stood, "I'll be on my way, now. You get some rest like I said."

“M'kay…” Marvin said. “Thanks.”

“That’s what parents are for." She squeezed his hand, stood, and left him with one more message: "A friend is coming over to check on you later, so if you've been getting out of bed"—she narrowed her eyes—"I'll know."

Marvin sighed, then all but coughed up a lung. When he was finished, he whispered through a sore throat, "Yes ma'am."

Whatever Moira had given him, it knocked him out within the hour. With Higgins as his mildly weighted blanket, he drifted in and out of sleep for all the morning and a good chunk of the afternoon. Once or twice a noise roused him, but he was never cognizant enough to register that he was awake, or that someone might be pressing a hand against his forehead and asking him how we was doing, or that he was answering in deeply slurred words. It all felt like one long, lurid dream where his bedroom sometimes spontaneously appeared.

(It would take hindsight for him to realize it wasn't all a dream, and to realize who some of those dreams were about.)

It wasn't until mid-afternoon when his medicine wore off that Marvin started staying up for more than a few minutes at a time.

By the time he was wide awake, able to push himself up in bed, Higgins was gone.

Coughing and wheezing, he fumbled for the bottles Moira had left for him beside his bed and gave himself what seemed like an appropriate dose from both. The bitter taste was washed down with a cup of water. With that done, he tried to follow his orders—don't get up, except to take a piss or eat—but he was stir crazy and wanted to get away from the cocoon of sweat he'd made for himself. He had to move around, wander, cast a spell, something. It was one thing to be curled up with a book, snug in his bed of his own free will, but the second someone or something forced stillness upon him he got twitchy.

So, when he got sick, he usually slept as much as he could get away with, but his oppressive body heat and inflamed nose yet to be quelled by his second medicine dose. That wasn't an option.

Well, the thermostat wasn't in his bedroom, that was a good enough excuse to get up. And he could top off Higgins' food and water while he was at it.

It took a while for Marvin to peel himself off his bed. Once he was up, he meandered out to his living room. He opened his mouth to call for Higgins, and instead ended up sputtering: “Sunday?”

Sunday was in his kitchen. A pot of beef stew was boiling strong, an electric kettle was just beginning to heat up, and he was rifling through the cabinets. Higgins was up on the counter, curled into a loaf and watching the pot with hungry eyes. Sometimes the cat gave Sunday a quick glance, like he was weighing up how likely it was that he could get the lid off, steal a bite, and dart under the couch before he was caught.

Upon hearing his name, Sunday stopped his search to give Marvin a disapproving frown. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Oh, so you were—I just—I expected you'd check in and leave.”

“I have been, but I thought you'd want dinner, and…" Sunday gestured at Higgins, "…he was hungry. I can leave now, though. Stew beef basically cooks itself and it's almost done."

Marvin considered that. "No I'm—I'm fine. With you staying, I mean."

“Alright. Well, sorry if I woke you up coming through the front door,” Sunday continued speaking, “Your spice cabinet didn't have what I needed, for one thing. Had to pop out and get some things.”

“I don't have a spice cabinet.” What he had was salt and pepper.

Sunday grimaced. “Exactly.” He paused. "You headed for the living room?”

"Yeah." It was only then Marvin realized he was winded. Ugh. He'd rather not have Moira coming around and spooning him medicine like he was five years old, but she'd at least seen (almost) all the rough edges he had to offer. It was different with Sunday.

"Figured as much. Let me get you before you keel over." Sunday came closer, and rather than offer a shoulder to lean on like Marvin expected he would, put on hand on his back. "Hold on to me."

"Why?" Marvin realized what was happening too late. Not that he could have done anything about it anyway, he'd had the build and muscle mass of a stickbug before this, now he must be even lighter from sweating all his water weight into his bed. It was an (embarassingly) proven fact that, whether with magic or by physical force, he was not a hard man to lift clear off the floor. “Don’t you dare”—

“Too late!” Sunday swept Marvin's feet out from under him, lifted him up bridal style.

Marvin, foreseeing himself plummet to the floor and break a bone, clung on to Sunday as he'd been asked. “Put me down!”

“And let you fall? That'd only embarrass you more.”

Marvin prayed his face wasn't as red as it felt. “The second I get better Sunday, I”—

“As long as you wait until you’re better first.” Sunday set him down on the couch and grinned. "Wasn't so bad, was it?"

Marvin harrumphed at him.

Someone had anticipated Marvin would go nuts in his room, because there were pillows and a blanket arranged neatly on the couch already. As Marvin set about ruining it (i.e. getting comfortable), Higgins jumped onto his lap the moment the space was available, crushing his stomach beneath his soft paws in a quest to get comfortable. With Higgins help, the blankets became a cushion-y, wrinkled pile hanging halfway off the couch.

Should I say thanks? He didn't feel particularly thankful. But he also didn't feel horrible, even though he was warmer than before and also no closer to his thermostat.

“When’s lunch done?” he asked instead.

“Soon. Sooner if you don't mind tough beef. I can make you a little hot cocoa while you wait, if you’re hungry, though.”

“Sure,” Marvin said. He shrank into the couch, suddenly aware of how sore he was.

A deep ache wormed through his muscles, down to his bones, and trying to hobble into the kitchen hadn’t helped matters. Half of him wanted to pace to distract himself from it, the other half said to sink into the couch and never resurface. At least his medicine was slowly working its way through him. (Or he'd placebo-effected himself into thinking that was the case.)

Every time he recovered from an illness he was quick to forget how miserable being sick was.

It felt like this would be his life now.

Forever.

“Oi. I see you wallowing over there,” Sunday chided him as he set down a steaming cup of chocolate milk on the couchside table.

“M'not wallowing,” Marvin said.

“Suuure.” Sunday gestured towards the drink. “Drink up.”

The heat of the cup eased his soreness a little. He sat with it in his hands, relishing its warmth for a while before taking a sip. “It’s good,” he said, “And I… I was wallowing. A little.”

“Only a little?” Sunday asked as he retreated into the kitchen.

Marvin didn’t reply to that. “How long have you been here? Coming in and out, I mean?”

“Only been in a few times.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The sound of the pot lid being removed drifted from the kitchen alongside a mouthwatering smell. "Yeah this is almost good. Let me know if you need anything else."

Marvin asked for the heat to be turned down, and with that finished, silence settled over them, filled only by Higgins purring, then by the TV after Marvin couldn’t bear the quiet. Marvin wondered whether Sunday found it uncomfortable.

Should he have asked him to stay? Surely he had better things to do than keeping Marvin from going stir crazy. And, as it stood, Marvin was a health hazard. There had to be reasons Sunday had spent most of his time coming and going instead of here, and it felt odd to override those. Higgins had needed to be fed though and Marvin definitely couldn't have done that as he was.

One episode of some crime drama passed by surprisingly fast, and dinner was done.

Higgins knew it before Marvin did. He'd been watching Sunday every time he got up for signs he was going to the kitchen, and once he started taking out bowls for the stew, the cat darted across the floor to circle the man's ankles, begging for food as he came out of the kitchen with two bowls. Successfully charmed by his fuzzy round face, Sunday flung him a strip of beef after setting the food down on little couchside table.

Marvin shook his head. “You're spoiling him. Now he'll be insufferable."

Higgins inhaled the entire chunk of stew beef, tenderized by six hours of boiling in soup. When he was done, he licked his chops and sat by Sunday again, this time looking up at him with dinner plate-sized, I would die for you (so please feed me again!) eyes.

Marvin took a bite of his stew.

Damn, and so would I.

“Good, right?” Sunday was back on the armchair, attention split between Marvin and Higgins, who was poised to jump into his lap.

“It’s great, yeah.” Marvin paused. It went on for too long, and a little embarrassed that he didn’t say it before, hurried to add, “Thanks.”

"Of course it is, that's my mum's recipe."

They returned to silence, and Marvin alternated between being convinced it was awkward and thinking it was companionable. Sometimes they burst into fits of vibrant conversation for however long that lasted before drifting into quiet. Together, they burned through one third of a TV show they'd been meaning to watch, a few video essays, and a few bowls of stew beef, at which point it was getting dark, and Sunday wanted to go home. It was one of the first times Marvin had blown through a sick day so fast without the use of sleep.

It was nice.

A sick day—nice. What an oxymoron.

"Well…" Sunday stood and made a show of stretching, "It's about time I take my leave. Will you be alright here?"

I will be if you can carry me back to bed.

Marvin opened his mouth and hesitated. "I can get to bed on my own. But, yeah, I appreciate you for feeding the cat and all that."

Sunday grinned at him. "That's what friends are for. I'll see you around."

He watched Marvin head to his room, then started leaving when it seemed like he'd make it safely.

Marvin was left to crawl into bed, top off his medicine, and get as cozy as he could manage as he listened for the sound of Sunday leaving and locking the door behind him.

Once the other magician was gone, some little thrill that'd wormed into his heart died, and left behind a ghost—a notion that he'd messed something up.

Hm.

Being sick wouldn't be so bad if Sunday came over every time.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Before I say anything else I want to be clear about two things.

One, if you don't have the energy to respond to this/don't want it on your blog I totally understand.

Two this really is in good faith. I'm not playing devils advocate and I'm not trying to prove a point or do a gotcha or anything.

In regards to the involuntary treatment for addiction(and for mental health issues in general), I don't entirely see the problem, and I was hoping you (or someone responding to your blog) could explain why it's such a bad idea.

I understand that these systems provide the perfect opportunity for serious abuse, and I also understand that they fundamentally are violating a person's freedoms.

I also understand that harm reduction options, like safe usage sites, are the best way to go, and that we should be putting our energy and resources into those.

But I also know in my own experiences I do not always have my best interests in mind, and sometimes I need someone to make me do the right things for myself.

My mental health has never gotten so bad that I have been institutionalized, so I may just not be fully grasping the depth of the flaws in the institutions, or I may not be properly understanding the state of mind of someone who is institutionalized.

However, it feels like assuming everyone will always make the right choices for themselves in the context of addiction and mental health, which doesn't seem like a responsible assumption to make.

Obviously I'd rather these institutions not have to exist, and instead provide people support before it reaches the point these systems are used, but we are not at that point yet, and it seems to me like involuntarily treatment is important in the interim.

Is this a situation where we should allow people to make a decision destructive to themselves rather than remove their freedom to make that decision? Or am I oversimplifying it?

I really am asking genuinely, and I'm very open to someone changing my mind. I just can't understand the issue at the moment.

Answer by @politicsofcanada:

There are a few reasons why I oppose involuntary commitment/involuntary treatment.

First of all, it doesn't work. Overwhelmingly, being institutionalized against your will does not benefit your mental or physical health. I studied this in college as well as having firsthand experience. The isolation and judgement that come with being institutionalized make people more likely to use substances to cope. Also, it is akin to being sent to jail for being mentally ill (which also happens but I won't get in to that right now). I've been in these places and they are not comforting, welcoming, or supportive environments. The concept of being sent to jail for being mentally ill should be more than enough to make people oppose this.

These places are rife with abuse and mistreatment. Staff are often violent, condescending, and sometimes sexually abusive. Much like the prison system, (because it operates in nearly exactly the same way) people of colour, poor people, and lgbtq+ people are overrepresented in the system. Marginalized people are more likely to experience addiction as a result of alienation from society, and involuntary commitment only makes that sense of alienation worse. Overwhelmingly, the best support one can offer someone experiencing addiction is safe supply, safe consumption sites, and community support.

Community support is far more effective than institutionalization. The only reason people prefer to lock people with addictions away is because its more convenient not to deal with them. Actually caring about people dealing with this means including them in your community, not locking them away.

[borzoilover69]

(tampers with the gas) dirkjake for the shipping bingo

as you can see my thoughts on them are varied and i can write entire essays. a gas leak made my obsession with them hit an entire level i didnt know was possible. They're everything and nothing to me and i dislike most of fanon abt it and i hate this ship but also i have never cared this much about a ship in general for the doors it could open into messy straight relationship type bullshit with they give me the mic. I find myself often looking thru the tag just to see what people say on it because either theyre completely annoying and wrong or relatively right it really depends.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING SECTION CONTAINS EXTENSIVE RAMBLING ON A TOPIC NOT MANY PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED IN:

i will both simultaneously defend this ship with my fucking life but also i will take any chance to shoot those two fuckers dead i genuinely wish jake english and dirk strider ill they are teens with attachment issues and i think the demonisation of it w/o looking at it as just a relationship that sort of is messy sucks and i think fanon should leave them the fuck alone. if given the chance i would kill both of them simply so i wouldnt have to see them at all but also i wish there were more meta writers for dirkjake bcus i find it so hard to find people that extrapolate at length abt it because its so wild to me the guilt and the feelings and the way they tear and grate at each other is so interesting to me.

every relationship is worse with them anyone that gets caught in the crossfires and tries to sort it out is basically doomed because whats probably going to happen is that dirk and jake are going to gang up to either a.) try to use the person as a weapon against the other or gang up to hurt this mfer theyre essentially doomed but in like a way that everyone is partying and those two are stuck together with awkward air.

im. not going to check over this ramble im just going to keep going. i have so much shit to say.

i hate the villainisation of dirk i hate the villainisation of jake they both suck in the way that teens and most young adults will theyre both at fault i hate the "jake never felt anything towards dirk because hes aro" yes he fucking did aro people can still feel levels of attraction and its very fucking obvious how tied up in each other they are and there are like a million and one reasons i could name it if you gave me a day and 15 pages of text.

i hope they both kill each other the idea of them being happy together is endearing but i dont want that for them most times unless im feeling especially sappy the fandom sort of ruined dirkjake for me heres my big old fuckyou to OD anyways heres a few song lyrics that make me think of them

They would literally be the subject of so much fucking talk in publications because theyre never over not even close theyre stuck together theyre going to be doing this dance for fucking years and either end up as the strangest but happiest freaks in some janked up mansion with a million different things that the normal person would think is fucking weird and strange and unnerving but which they think is completely normal or theyre just going to end up killing each other and nobody is going to be safe in the crossfire theyre going to key each others cars and send pipe bombs and poke at every single hole and flaw in the others facade blah blah blah.

people who just focus on the good parts of dirk and jake dont get it people who focus on the flaws only dont get it i think there should be more discussion but also the idea of being exposed to someone who doesnt get it is hell for me ive read their pesterlogs like so many fucking times and ive written extensively abt their selves and what flaws they have and i could prolly kick the shit out of them anyways mic drop im done.