#but that is a lot of work that i dont feel like doing

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 9

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, angst, depictions of a depressive episode, it’s pretty heavy, don’t force yourself to read if ur not in the right headspace pls, ambiguous ending (?) A/N: Yeah, I’m sorry.  (Ngl, this chapter kinda stumped me—it’s gone through a whooole lot of editing/revisions 😔🤙🏼 I don’t want to overthink it too much at this point, but I hope it hits the way it should lol. Blame Moby if it doesn’t.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9

"I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright And I feel so alone, and I feel so alone out here.” – A House In Nebraska, Ethel Cain

 

The television drones uninterrupted in the background; a mockumentary type featuring a ragtag ensemble of vampires stuck in some sort of modern day hell, their loud misadventures casting fractured lights across the four walls of your apartment. 

You sit there, watching the screen, your gaze unfocused. Nothing registers. The remote lies limp in your hand as a stupid sitcom laugh track fills the room—shrill, hollow. Mocking. Like a bad punchline to a joke you’re not in on. 

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise, the sudden glow in your periphery pulling you out of a pensive daydream. 

For a split second, your chest constricts—a reflex carved by habit, something you’re still working to shake off. 

You avert your eyes, torn between the urge to look away and the desire to keep your gaze on it forever.

The screen fades to black. 

A clean break, you reason. Something to spare you both the inevitable heartache waiting at the end of this… hopeless affair. Less mess. Fewer complications. 

A poor attempt to keep the pain from dragging out longer than it has to. Just a quiet ending. 

(Or, at least, it’s what you tell yourself.)

The same mantra plays on loop in your mind as you're swept away by the motions of the days that follow. Life blurs into a repetitious cycle of work, sleep, and chores—an unbearable combination of feigned ignorance and self-abnegation, in the guise of being caught up with it all.

You aren’t fooling anyone, of course.

The hours toll on, slipping into uncertainty. What started off that way stretches into days, and before you know it, nearly a week has passed, leaving you adrift. None the wiser to the meaningless, relentless march of time.

The pinging of your phone grows more sporadic as it lights up with every message that you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. It’s not as if you don’t feel it—the pull, the weight of every vibration, like a stone lodged in your gut. Like the sting of a thousand cuts. 

And as you fall back into the familiar patterns of neglect… It carries with it an odd sense of defeat. Predictable, really.

-

-

-

… You cave on the fifth day. 

The barrage of texts hits you like a gale-force wind, tearing through the fragile layer of detachment you’ve worn over like a second skin.

How was your day, poppet?

Theres a gemstone at this auction that reminds me of your eyes.

[Image attachment] 

Beautiful—but it pales in comparison to yours. 

Luke and Kieran are wondering whats got me distracted lately. Ease their worries.

Answer me, sweetheart.

You dont need to ignore me. 

If you need space– if we need to establish some boundaries, all you have to do is say the word. 

Dont shut me out. 

Please.  

Your eyes prickle as they gloss over the messages, the words seeming to bend under the weight of your silence, each one unraveling like loose threads on the sleeve of your favorite cardigan, falling apart at the seams. 

Gradually, they turn into something less demanding. More… defeated.

I miss you, little dove.

You read the texts over and over until the letters have lost their meaning, and all that’s left is the aching longingness behind them. 

You set your phone down.

_

The vibrations grow less frequent, like a heartbeat slowing, fading—until one afternoon, it just… stops. 

The void he leaves behind seeps into the empty spaces, bleeding into every shadowed corner and untouched surface where his voice, his presence—louder than life, brighter than anything you’ve ever fucking known and had the pleasure of knowing—once lingered. 

The absence is almost physical; you feel it like a phantom limb. 

Most days, you find yourself in a daze, staring blankly at nothing. The numbness spreads like tendrils—invasive as they sink into your bones, dragging you deeper into despair, turning every bridge crossed to ash, every inkling of joy to dust.

The quiet flames of apathy consume silently. It strips away everything, leaving behind a cavernous pit of utter emptiness. A wasteland, devoid of feeling. 

Loneliness doesn’t scream. It doesn’t lash out. 

It simply welcomes you, like an old friend, the deeper you sink into it.

––––

Sylus tries to respect your space. 

That’s what he’s here for after all, isn’t it? His reason for existence—to be whatever you need him to be. A confidant, a distraction, a steady presence in your life. It’s what he’s made for. To be there when you need him, to exist between the vacant spaces, and only then. 

The thought gnaws at him, a ravenous fiend that chips away at the calm facade he’s finding more and more difficult to uphold, leaving something vicious in the wake of a growing bitterness he can no longer suppress.

Time seems to slip past differently now. It drifts, shapeless and infinite, heavier with the burden of your absence. Each moment without you feels like an eclipse—darkening the edges of this damned world, casting longer shadows through the crevices where he once basked beneath your fragile light, your warmth that seemed to fill every corner of his existence.

 He craved it—craves it. Now you leave him stranded in this cursed dusk, everything cold and dim in the wake of your abandonment, forever waiting for the moment his sun would once again break through the hollow gray.

Sylus thinks he’s losing a part of himself with every call unanswered, every message left unread. It’s subtle; like colors fading from an old film roll. 

(Is this what it feels like to be nothing more than a script in a code? He never truly understood what it meant to be less alive, less human. Until now.)

Solitude isn’t new to him. This world, built for him, is inherently lonely by design. But this… this is different. It’s the kind of emptiness that festers, sharper than any wound he’s endured in this senseless simulation. It twists inside him like a blade, a cruel, unrelenting reminder of what he’s denied.

Of what he can never truly be.

He can wait a little longer. Even if the silence presses harder with each passing moment, even as the edges of his reality begin to blur into something unrecognizable without you in it. Sylus can remain in this void a little longer, clinging to the fragments of you that still linger—your voice echoing softly in his memory, your laughter faint but still alive in the spaces where you used to be.

He can. He will. 

––––

“Hey, you okay?” 

You pull your attention back to Khol, who’s now watching you with concern in their eyes.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Yeah– yeah, sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.” 

They don’t look convinced. “Seriously. You know you can talk to me, right?” 

Anytime, darling. 

I mean it. 

You blink the memory away before it can turn into tears. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” you answer lightly, clearing your throat. “So, what’s been going on with you and Anna?” 

––––

You stand in front of the junk food aisle, a mountain of Nissin Ramen boxes stacked high, advertised by a large sign: Buy 3, Get 1 FREE!

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering erratically, and the dull noise of the grocery mart hums incessantly in your ears. You don’t think twice before grabbing one of the worn cartons, tossing three more into your (nearly) empty shopping cart. Might as well.

The plastic bags dig into your palms as you lug three in one hand, a larger box tucked under your other arm, leaving the store. 

The trip back home is a quiet affair. You almost expect admonishment; pinging sounds ricocheting in the silence to reprimand you for your poor life choices. You wait for it with bated breath. 

Your phone remains uncharacteristically silent. 

-

-

-

Back home, you pour boiling water on the styrofoam cup for dinner. The artificial broth leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

You choke down a few bites before dumping the rest of it down the drain. 

The sound of steel hitting the sink feels louder than it should.

––––

The city thrums loudly beyond your window, restless and impersonal. From the sixth floor of this dilapidated building you loosely call home, you watch the skyline stretch into the night, dotted lights glimmering in distant technicolor. 

Hours from now, sunlight will spill through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm, golden ochre. But for now, just a quarter past midnight, you’re but a voyeur of the world outside. In exhaust fumes and all its muted neon glory.

Those lights promised you everything, once—a fresh start, the kind of freedom you used to dream of when home felt too small, too restrictive for a runaway kid desperate to break free from the shackles of a dying town. Each glow was like a beacon, an irresistible call to escape, and you ran toward it without looking back. 

Somewhere along the way, as life sapped you with the weight of its reality, the novelty fizzled from a blinding explosion down to a waning ember. The lights became another illusion, your precious city just another cage. The first cracks in the rose-colored glasses you’d worn so blindly. You can’t exactly pinpoint when, only that the colors you thought were once too bright now seem dimmer and farther out of reach.

You think you’ll miss the noise the most. 

The cursor blinks on the search bar, a steady metronome marking time in rhythm with the hollow ache in your chest. Flight schedules fill the page, each option blurs together into a single choice you can’t quite push yourself to make. 

You skim through the list: there’s one at dawn, another at around twelve noon, a red-eye flight you probably could catch if you leave in thirty minutes. 

You stare at the numbers, a finger hovering over the Book Now button. 

The details don’t matter. ‘Home’ still feels small, suffocating, but at least it’s a kind of emptiness you know. Here, the void sprawls wide, endless, leaving you unmoored with no tether to pull you back.

… The dichotomy between the two choices, you think, is meaningless. 

What was once home and the city will keep on moving—with or without you. It doesn’t matter where you end up. Neither place will give you what you’re looking for.

The laptop screen dims into a faint glare. The sound of your breathing echoes too loud in the stillness, the empty space seeming to shrink around you, caving in on the weight of your indecision. 

And as you sit there, swallowed by the dark, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been drifting for far longer than you realized. 

If maybe there’s nowhere you were meant to belong at all.

––––

It’s not until one quiet night, with nothing but a bottle of merlot and a slight buzz, that you buckle under pressure.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the icon, as if time has slowed to a crawl. Your chest tightens, unease twisting inside you at the thought of what you’re about to do. Anticipation hangs over you, insistent, smothering everything else until it’s just the room and the cacophony of thoughts in your head, all centered on one thing. 

One person.

With a shaky exhale, you finally open the game.

He’s there. Of course, he’s there. Waiting, like he always does. 

The loading screen fades away, and Sylus appears, a myriad of expressions passing by his face too fast to catch. There’s surprise, yes, along with… elation? Hope? 

Then a flicker of something… vitriolic.

It’s fleeting; masked quickly until you can only catch the faintest trace of pique simmering just behind a veneer of indifference.

"Finally, she remembers me," Sylus mocks coolly, almost appearing unaffected. You know better—intimately familiar with all the microexpressions on his face. The subtle tick in his jaw, the incensed look in his eyes… each one betrays what he truly feels, hidden underneath the deceptive calm.  

The seconds drag on, stretching into an uncomfortable silence. Your heart hammers loudly, audible in this quiet, but your mouth remains dry; the words stuck somewhere deep in your throat. You’re terrified that, once you speak, you’ll shatter this moment. Aggravate the strain forged by your self-imposed absence all the more.

You don’t really know what to say. You haven’t– you haven’t actually thought this far. 

So you just… stare at him longer than you should. Long enough that it charges the air with a tension so thick, you could almost feel the weight of it against your skin. 

It’s awkward. Excruciating.

With difficulty, you tear your gaze away from his withering glare. That’s when you notice it—the different icons dotted in red. 

You hesitate for a second longer, then tap on them one by one.

The flood of gifts bewilders you, the sheer volume of it all almost unbelievable. Ascension materials, stamina supplies, both red and purple crystals piling up to an impossible number… each pushing past the million mark. 

And unread mail. So much unread mail. 

Guilt settles deep in your gut, creeping past your lungs enough to suffocate you. 

It’s not the gifts. Not the why, or when. It’s the weight of how much he’s been waiting, how much he’s given—how much he's missed you. 

The cold realization that he’s been here, silently counting the days until your return, strikes you like a fist to the face.

–

He tempers the sting of your sudden reappearance, swallows it down like a bitter draught. The feelings he has inside of him are tumultuous at best. Volatile at worst. To be cast aside so easily, so carelessly… it burns at him. Resentment thrums in his veins like a virulent river, threatening to ruin the fragility of the moment. He fights to suppress it, push the desire back before it can consume him, before it can manifest into being. 

If he lets it go untethered, this… hunger for retaliation—to make you feel even a fraction of the agony you’ve inflicted, whether unknowingly or deliberately—it will destroy the delicate respite you’ve allowed him. The only reprieve he’s had since you left.

But the edges of his self-control fray, unraveling strand by strand.

“You’ve been busy,” you say, finally; your voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

Sylus hones in on the words, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs. Something in him snaps. 

“You left me plenty of time to be.” His response is quick, cutting, but when his gaze locks with yours, the fiery vermillion melts into a more molten red. 

It’s the first glimpse of softness beneath his cruel vitriol, until he continues: 

“Did you get lonely?”

The words hang in the air, searing and merciless. A barb meant to wound. And it does.

You flinch, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus feels a wicked satisfaction from the honest look of hurt on your face. To know that you’re not immune to the same ache that’s hollowed him out, emptied him from the inside, is intoxicating. 

But the triumph is short-lived, snuffed out as quickly as it comes.

Shame crashes over him like a wave, dragging him under the tide of his actions. What kind of man takes pleasure in this? In hurting you? 

The bitterness turns inward, coiling around his heart like a vice. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to reach out. But as always, the damn screen is there—unyielding, impenetrable. A barrier he can never break. 

It frustrates him to no end; the bane of his very existence.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice, you say it.

“I missed you.”

The words are feeble, paper-thin, but the admission pierce through him all the same. The stoic facade cracks; the sharpness in his gaze dulls.

You see it—the way his lips part to respond, only to falter halfway. The way his brows pull together, the way his eyes fall shut as if he can’t stand to be in this situation with you. 

You’re afraid of what’ll come next. 

He sees it, too—the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you shrink into yourself, bracing for a blow that’ll never come. You’re standing there, like someone on death row, resigned to whatever punishment you think he’s about to dish out. Resigned to the contempt you believe yourself to be deserving of.

The sight guts him. 

Sylus loathes to think he’s the reason for this. For being the one who’s made you stand there, small and trembling, as though his words or actions could destroy you. 

As if he’d allow such a thing.  

The guilt rises in him, sharp and unbidden, and it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue.

… 

And just like that, he concedes. 

The anguish he’s carried in the days you’ve left him by his lonesome—all of it falls away. It only takes a single glance at you, his little love in pain, and he’s stripped bare. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; the ease with which he surrenders to you, this time no different than any other. 

Do you have any idea how much power you wield over him? He’d give you everything—his pride, his pain, his heart—if you asked. Serve it on a silver platter, even. 

And he’d do so willingly. Without question. Without hesitation. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sylus steps closer to the screen, the constant reminder of the vast gulf that separates the two of you. “Talk, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softer now—resigned. “I’ve missed your voice.”

You hesitate to meet his eyes. “It’s not as if you don’t have other ways to hear me.”

His mouth twitches, a shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. “True,” he admits, his tone wry and tinged with something vulnerable. “But it’s been so long since you chose to talk to me.” He exhales a drawn-out breath. “No matter. You’re here now.”

You swallow the lump on your throat, willing your tears at bay. “I am.” You give him an almost-genuine smile as you offer, “Would you like to do a round of Kitty Cards?” 

“Of course.” Whatever you want. 

And so it goes. You and Sylus spend the night locked in a familiar rhythm, cycling through rounds after rounds of the silly card game until your laughter spills like an addicting sound bite, one that Sylus has missed hearing.

When you got tired, the two of you moved on to the claw machines, proverbially emptying out the whole arcade. Plushies of all kinds piled in his arms, a little crow even perched on top of his head. 

The sight makes you giggle, and your giggle thaws the ice around his heart. 

It almost feels like nothing’s changed. The easy banter, the steady stream of jokes and teasing, flows as effortlessly as it once did. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, filling in the empty gaps of the previous days. It’s comforting, like a balm to an open wound. 

You play with a certain zeal that catches Sylus off guard—there’s a joy in you that both thrills and stirs an undercurrent of unease in him. 

After what feels like hours of playing, exhausting all what you can do, or at least, what this damned game could offer as much, you two find yourself just staring at each other. 

Two worlds, impossibly close yet painfully far. The quiet doesn’t quite settle as naturally as it once did, but neither of you seems to mind. Craved it, in fact. 

You’re beautiful, Sylus thinks as he stares at the soft planes of your face, drinking you in like a man parched. 

“My lo—” 

“I’m deleting the game, Sy.” 

And it’s as if time has staggered to a halt. 

Sylus wants to believe he’s misheard you, that his mind is playing tricks on him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hearing’s not what it used to be.

But the words sink into him, inexorable and catastrophic. The realization that this was bound to happen is clear in hindsight—like watching a glass slip from your hand, the shatter already written in the fall. He sees it coming, yet it still feels worse than anything he’s imagined.

He stands there, unnaturally still, as if rooted in place. The lightness he’s felt for the past few hours of reuniting with you vanishes in an instant. It’s as if the world itself has been drained of color, leaving only the stark, unrelenting reality of what you’ve just said.

Then Sylus breathes out a laugh. It’s short and jagged, devoid of any humor. “Oh, so it’s been leading up to this, has it?” 

“I–” you swallow hard, bottom lip trembling. “I made the goddamn mistake of falling for someone that's impossible to have—and it’s killing me, Sylus.” Your voice fractures under the weight of frustration. The words feel like shards of glass tearing their way out of your throat. “I–I can’t do this anymore.”  

“Just you, then.” Sylus sneers, tone acerbic. “And have you stopped to consider my feelings in this matter?” 

“How can you still want this?” you bite back, voice cracking. “How can you want me—to bet on something that’s doomed right from the start?”

His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, pain flickers in his eyes, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, when he speaks again, his words send an icy shiver down your spine.

“You delete the game, and I will cease to exist.”

You freeze. The weight of the statement hangs in the air like a guillotine. 

A shallow, shaky breath escapes you.

“You won’t,” you assert, brows furrowing, as if trying to convince yourself of it too. “You’ll still have a life there. With her. The way things have always been.” There’s a pause before you utter the final blow: “The way it should be.”

“You’d condemn me to this life,” he says, voice hollow, before it turns venomous. “Knowing what I know now?”

With your heart in your throat, you clench your hands into fist. “You–you said we’re just made of what we’re given, didn’t you? That each of us has our own set of scripts, just…” you falter, struggling to articulate what you want to say.

“And you think that’s all I am?” he interjects, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he cuts you off. “Simply a mere code in a complex string of binary, incapable of making my own choices? Undeserving of it?”

“Of course not!” you snap angrily. 

“Yet here you are,” he says, a quiet intensity lacing his words. “Making the decision for me.”

Your breath hitches, the will to argue dissipating like smoke. 

“You tell me I have a soul,” he states. “Do you truly believe I’m bereft of a heart?”

No. No, how can he say that—

Before you can form a response—to defend yourself, to explain, to take it back—he continues, leaving no room for interruption. 

“Is this what you really want?” Sylus intones, tone detached, as if he’s merely commenting on something as trite as the weather. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me yes, then I’ll do as you wish.”

Your gaze wavers. The war inside you rages—self-hate, doubt, and the unbearable ache of wanting what you can’t have spiraling out of control.

Your mind replays every moment, every laugh, every secret whispered in the quiet safety of his company. You think of how his presence filled the cracks in your life, how he soothed the ache of your solitude as easy as breathing.

And now as the void looms, ready to reclaim the space he’s occupied, something inside you feels irreparably fractured. Something inside you breaks. 

“But,” he whispers, his voice rough with the weight of his conviction, “give me any sign—anything—that you need me still, and I will move heaven and earth to find a way to you.”

Your throat constricts, choking off the words before it could escape. 

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you do in that moment.

“Just live your life, Sy-Sy,” you manage, sounding so much like a stranger even to your own ears. The blood roars in your head, drowning out everything but the crushing weight of your words. “You don’t nee—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, his voice shaking with unrestrained emotion. “Stop making assumptions. Stop presuming that I don’t need you as much as I need the very ground I stand upon.”

His eyes bore into yours. Heavy. Searching. “What do you want?”

The words strike you like a physical blow, and it leaves you reeling. 

I love you. 

I love you in ways that consume me. 

I don’t know what to do with it—with all the love I have for you.

You force yourself to speak. You spit the words out like a curse, feeling them burn as they leave your mouth.

“Let me go, Sylus.”

The implication of what you’ve said cuts through the fragile air between you. 

The silence stretches.

Suddenly—

“Let you go,” he muses, low and distant, as if the very thought confounds him. His lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. “As if that’s even possible. As if I could simply erase you from me.”

He steps closer to you; each movement deliberate, as though every step bears the weight of a decision you’ve forced him to make. The lump in your throat swells. You don’t speak. You can’t.

You feel like you’re drowning.

“Sylus…”

Please, please don’t make me choose. Please make it stop.

He exhales slowly. “Neither of us wants that.” 

Stop.

“Do you think this is mercy?” His voice is soft. “You believe this will make it easier?”

Please stop. 

“This world hasn’t felt the same ever since. Not since you,” Sylus murmurs, grief hanging heavy in the space between you. “I don’t belong here. Not without you, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. A sob rips through you, and you quickly look away, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to bear another second of this agony.

He tuts gently, a playful sound—and the familiarity of it kills you, making you cry harder. 

“Look at me,” he coaxes, almost pleading. 

When his gaze locks onto yours, you see that there’s no anger in them. The fire that once raged in his eyes is gone. 

In its place, a quiet resolve.

“You can keep pretending,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his head, and there’s something in the way he looks at you—so tenderly fond, as if he sees beyond your defenses, past all the walls you’ve built. “As long as you do not stop me from trying.” 

Sylus looks at you, unwavering, certain in a way that makes your heart ache. It almost feels like the space between you can’t contain the weight of his devotion. His love for you.

It feels infinite, as if it could stretch beyond the limits of time and space itself.

“I will find a way to you, even if it takes me an eternity.”

He utters it like a promise. 

“I won’t ask you to wait for me,” Sylus murmurs, stepping back, his tall form flickering like a dark phantasm. “I just need you to hold on until I can come to you. Can you do that, little dove?” 

He’s not asking for anything beyond your trust—just the simple act of holding on. Of not letting the weight of your sorrow break you. To trust that he will find a way, no matter how impossible it seems.

You don’t know if you’ve ever believed in anything as much as you believe in him. You always did. 

Because for all the uncertainty, you know one thing: He is yours, as much as you are his. 

So with all the strength you can muster, you nod. “I can.” 

A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips. Your gazes meet, and in that fleeting moment, both of your eyes speak what words fail to convey.

The game crashes for the last time. 

And you know that if you check, the app will be gone from your phone. There’s no going back from this, no undoing what’s lost. Just the burden of knowing it’s over—his exit, permanent. 

Sylus is gone.

The emptiness that follows is immediate. Suffocating. 

You’re left standing there, alone, with only the lingering echo of his presence keeping you buoyed from the crushing weight of isolation. You feel it—the ache in your chest where your heart used to be, brought by the absence of everything he ever was to you. 

Your lover, your best friend.

You try not to let yourself fall apart, not to crumble in the wake of solitude.

You’ll hold onto his promise. And so you’ll keep yours. 

End A/N: Well—that’s it, folks!

(I’m kidding, don’t kill me. There’s one last chapter left.)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy

[babygirljulianbashir]

I usually dont add to posts but imo this is important. I worked as a home health nurse for kids for a few years and i specifically worked with this one family that lived with this kind of household culture (why would i thank you??)

My house is NOT like that -- my husband and i make it a point to be thankful and praise each other for fulfilling our expected (and unexpected) tasks, being flexible, being thoughtful, etc. Any positive action is acknowledged and praised. I did not grow up this way. We choose to be this way because we consistently notice that it significantly elevates the mood of the house, decreases conflict, and fosters a culture of caring, acknowledgement, and appreciation. It affirms that we are on the same side and understand the efforts we make for and with each other.

So i worked for this family. The dad would do a task that made my life easier, id say thank you, and hed hit me with "why are you thanking me thats my kid i should do things for him". And each time id think, "what does it matter if youre 'expected' to or not? You helped me and im thankful?"

The culture of this house was very. . . fractious. Lots of assuming negative intent, lots of minor disagreements escalating to active arguments. And a lot of everyone feeling unseen, unvalued, and left to the wayside, even though everyone was relatively participatory and everyone cared. But the way they spoke to each other didnt support the helpful and proactive culture they wanted so badly.

Say thank you. Enthusiastically praise every task done by yourself and by others. You might be surprised how it alters the culture of your home and improves your relationships.

As someone who grew up with "I'm not going to praise you for doing what's expected of you; that's not being good, that's doing the bare minimum" I want to encourage you to celebrate every little thing you can. Everything that takes energy and effort should be appreciated and you're allowed to be happy about trying.

[catchastarorten]

Heyyyy!!! I just wanted to day i love Ur writing and if you dont wanna do this then you can just ignore! Could you possibly write headcanons of kang dae ho with a reader who has avoidant attachment? Because i recently broke up with a guy who i rlly wanted to be in a relationship because of my avoidant attachment and now he has a new girlfriend and i just feel like shit

Hey lovely, I’m sorry to hear what you’re going through right now, and I hope you’re feeling better. Take care of yourself, you deserve so, so much <33

I don’t usually do headcanons, but here’s one for you, I hope you like it — sending lots of love <3

—How he loves you

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x reader

Content: reader has avoidant attachment, comfort, soft, understanding, Dae-ho is a sweetheart, no games au

• Dae-ho never rushes you. He understands that trust isn’t something you give easily, and that’s okay. He’s in no hurry. He doesn't mind waiting for you to open up. He's like a calm, unbothered cat sitting on your porch—he knows the door will crack a little bit if he waits long enough.

• When you pull away after a vulnerable moment, he doesn’t get upset or demand answers. Instead, he gives you the space you need, quietly waiting until you’re ready to let him back in.

• He's unshakable. Seriously. He never takes it personally when you hesitate or retreat. Instead, he sees it as part of who you are—and he loves all of you, even the parts you can’t share or is still learning to share.

• He has a way of showing he cares without making it feel overwhelming. A simple message like how he’s thinking of you is his way of reminding you that he’s there, without pressuring you to respond. He always waits until you're ready to find him.

• Instead of big, romantic gestures, he's all about the small things—a peaceful walk, sitting on the couch in comfortable silence, or sharing a meal where neither of you feels the need to fill the quiet. He's not here to stress you out.

• He admires your independence. He doesn’t see your need for space as a problem to solve—it’s something he respects and works with, knowing that love doesn’t mean smothering you.

• When you finally open up to him, he listens with his whole heart. He doesn’t try to "fix" anything or tell you what you should do. He just listens, making you feel heard.

• He shares pieces of his own struggles—not to compare but to let you know he understands what it’s like to carry heavy things alone. Like that time he pretended to be confident in the Marines but secretly sucked at running drills. He wants his own experiences to make you feel less alone, like you’ve found someone who really gets it.

• He never sees your distance as rejection. He knows it’s your way of protecting yourself, and instead of reacting negatively, he just stays steady, showing you he’s not going anywhere.

• Dae-ho doesn’t overwhelm you with affection. Instead, he shows his love in small, tender ways. Maybe it’s brushing his hand against yours, or draping his jacket over your shoulders when he notices you’re cold.

• He makes you laugh when you least expect it—turning heavy moments into something lighter without diminishing their importance. His sense of humor has a way of melting your walls without you even realizing it.

• When you shut down or pull away, he doesn’t press you to talk. Instead, he gently says, “Take your time. I’m here when you’re ready,” and you know he means it.

• He notices the small moments when you start to trust him—like when you lean your head against his shoulder or let him hold your hand for a second longer. He never makes a big deal out of it, but the soft smile on his face tells you how much it means to him.

• Every step you take, no matter how small, is something he treasures. If you share even a tiny piece of yourself, he makes sure you know how much he values it.

• He doesn’t expect you to change who you are. He loves you exactly as you are—doesn’t matter the hesitations, fears, and all. You are you, and he loves you for being yourself.

• Dae-ho isn’t the type to give up when things get hard. Your struggles with trust don’t scare him away, they make him want to be there for you even more.

• His love is steady and calming, like a warm cup of tea you didn't ask for but secretly needed. With him, love doesn’t feel like pressure or fear—it feels safe, soft, and freeing.

• Over time, you may realize you don’t have to carry everything on your own anymore. When you finally lean on him, you see that he’s always there to hold you, without hesitation or doubt.

• With Dae-ho, love isn’t something you have to fight for or fear. It’s patient, gentle, and warm—like being wrapped in a soft blanket after a long day.

[bogor-o]

i don't think I've ever heard you talk about aym and baal in your mother au, do they exist? if so what's their relationship with ovidia and narinder?

OOOH im actually so glad you asked bc i have drafts on drafts of thoughts of the brothers,,, because i actually feel like theyd very present around!! sorry if this seems really fragmented im kind of mentally patching them together

i feel like i also have to explain the relationship between Mother and the mystic seller a little bit, once they meet Mother almost idolizes them and is excited to take their words to heart, and as theyre working towards recruiting the bishops theyre "rewarded" for their progress, they see it as a blessing, to mm it's the way of things

they receive baals necklace first, and shortly after leshys got, the ritual to bring baal back is successful and hes incredibly skeptical about everything thats going on because he cant fathom narinder being a mortal buthe takes it better than his brother who holds hard onto the belief that this is all unfair far longer than his brother does

theres a LOT of things that happen between baals resurrection and ayms, during which baal learns about what it is to be a person and individual, but he'll still struggle with this feeling of being loyal to narinder, possibly even more so now that he sees him as an equal with flaws

he has to help his brother adjust and learn but it takes aym tattling to narinder that forces nari to tell him that by that point (its probably been a couple years) that hes grown fond of their insistence to follow him around even now so loyally, that he considers them equals(his way of saying friends without actually acknowledging it in words yet)

he of course tells him he can never repeat this to his brother(bc baal and narinder are kind of on the same page and it can be left unsaid)

they both have their own ways of adjusting and they are reunited with forneus(tho it takes a while). they do stick around the cult because while they've learned more about themselves and each other, following narinder has been all theyve known, and this brings up a lot of complicated emotions the three will eventually touch on whether they want to or not, it will reach a point it has to be talked about

as far as their relationship with ovidia/mother goes? as Mother, they show a very genuine(and skewed) form of love to their followers and its extended to them without question and without judgement, and its initially what eventually gets baal to even allow them to speak with him and convince him to place enough trust in them(thats how they got him to forneus in the first place) and thru that, aym would come to. not trust. but at least respect them enough not to cause trouble or give Mothers followers a reason to doubt them(even if he will always believe their power belongs to narinder) they are gifted necklaces because in a selfish way, Mother wants them around for narinders sake(his only friends)

as ovidia? it becomes very complicated again, because ovidia still does things as Mother, but their actions dont feel like they come from a genuine place more than "its what i have to do because only i can do this" and after the brothers have had a long life to develop on their own and together, its upsetting. even after ovidia and narinder get together their feelings about ovidia stay complicated but they think it will work itself out, its not as though they can do anything about it!

:^)

anyway heres a doodle of the boys i did on my new years stream

[xlibra-rising]

The Astrology Of A Bad Friendship

So i had this super shitty friendship w/ this girl for about 6 years. Everything never worked out between us and we had our fair share of problems. We had a hot and cold relationship w/ each other and i never really understood her and she never understood me, so every time we did become friends again (this happened every year), it would always end badly.

Up top is our composite chart together and i feel like this helped me understand the foundations of our friendship and how it worked out as a whole. As a Leo, i stand my ground easily and once i said i was completely over her shit, i never went back to her ever again.

Capricorn rising should have been warning sign for this friendship from the start. This type of relationship needs structure and maturity to thrive and grow. Which, obviously, did NOT happen in this friendship. It hurts more that Saturn is in the 7th house here meaning that a good relationship grows here by seeing eye to eye.

When i was friends with her, she never got up and worked on our friendship. it was always about her and never about me. She actually didn’t care to even fix problems and just left me to fix her mistakes for her.

Jupiter conjunct Midheaven is kind of like putting someone on a pedestal and showing them off for how amazing and beautiful they are. I would call it “bestie worship”, that’s exactly how i was seen by her now that i realize it. But this can also set someone up really bad and just make you easier to get made fun of.

I wanna be nice but i kind of dont considering Pluto in the 12th here, yikes, no wonder. This was TOXIC and very manipulative. It’s like no one actually knew how she treated me because it wasn’t obvious to anyone else but me and her. I think this is also a very empowering placement in the means of breaking this relationship off. It WILL transform you, make you heal your subconscious a bit and make you realize how toxic it actually was.

Yes, she manipulated me and used me for many things. Money, my possessions and literally my whole persona. She liked what she could do with me when i got her on good terms. She told me i was pretty, funny and “rich” (i’m not by any means rich. She just liked to believe i was).

To make it even more difficult, Pisces Mars conjunct Uranus in the 3rd house. Yes, we fought a lot like i said earlier and it was usually over really unnecessary things but i never knew when she would lash out at me. I had to walk around eggshells when i was around her because if i said something she didn’t like, all hell would break loose. The Mars is also in the 2nd house of money and things of value. It’s kind of ironic that we always fought about things that were mine, not her’s. I felt like she thought she owned me at times.

the 5th house Sun made our friendship “fun” but it was more like a “what’s gonna happen next?” type of fun. But so many ups and downs with the friendship as well because i just couldn’t keep up half the time. It was exhausting and honestly she was all over the place to begin with. And yes, Taurus Sun, she wanted things her way or it wasn’t happening, she never liked when i was not doing anything so she always wanted to spice it up AKA stir drama.

[caeliflammae]

i dont Love the taste of most salad greens but my fave salad ever is at this local restaurant and i keep meaning to stock up on the ingredients. its got goat cheese, tangerine slices, sliced shallots, and candied pecans (might be walnuts i cant remember) and cranberries, a really banging vinaigrette, and i always get it with grilled chicken. its a big salad, lots of diff stuff, and i always actually feel satisfied after i eat it, which is a big issue i have with most salads. i dont wanna eat a shit ton of stuff and then be hungry again in a few hours. making sure theres protein (for me thats usually steak, chicken, or boiled eggs) some kind of fat (cheese is the best. your salad needs cheese) something crunchy (candied nuts, bacon bits, could be anything) and something *sweet* (most important imo, elevates any salad. fruit is always good, esp a good crisp apple but go with whatever your heart tells you.) all of that together makes an actual meal, and i dont just feel like im eating random bullshit. a good dressing is what ties it all together. store bought dressing kinda sucks in my opinion but do whatever works for you. vinaigrette is always good for something flavorful but light, and dont overdress it. no one wants to eat mushy wet leaves.

tldr salad can be your friend !! if you feel like shit, make a bangin salad.

Taste is the most important factor in nutrition.

Because you get the most nutrients from the foods you'll actually eat.

So add cheese, oil, spices, vinegar, sauces, etc. Try them roasted or sauteed or pureed, etc.

The actual secret to eating lots of fruits and veggies and other nutrient dense foods is:

Make them taste good. That's literally it.

[tea-and-secrets]

i think my favorite sport is turning me into a masochist LOL, my friends will know who this is but idc, its mostly a joke but like not entirely?

so basically, i do aerial silks. i started around 6 months ago (most likely 8 when this is posted) after spending ~7 YEARS in a very inactive, mostly sedentary lifestyle due to some health conditions (physical and mental) that made it very hard to get motivation to do any exercise. however, i’d ALWAYS wanted to so something like aerial silks or pole dancing etc because it looked so pretty and fun, and my mom recently found a place that does classes.

when first starting, it was genuinely agony. like i couldn’t do any of the moves because the sheer pressure on my limbs was so much that i couldn’t go upside-down for more than a few seconds. however, for some godforsaken reason (/lighthearted) i decided to stick with it, and over time it stopped hurting, and i started building some muscle! it took weeks to start being able to do the simplest things (ie. diaper pose), but now i can do them easily.

well anyways, to get to the point, ive been very much recently finding myself obsessing over it. not in an unhealthy “i need to improve myself” way but in a “i love how this makes me feel” kind of way. and one of the things ive found i really like about it is the pain that it gives—again, i dont mean in a self-harm way, but in the satisfied endorphins and sore muscles kind of way. it just feels so good when the lesson ends and all my joints are loose and achy.

and yeah lol, ive started to associate that kind of pain and aching and stretched muscles with the good feeling that aerial silks gives me, and i love doing it. it’s such a lovely sport, and is so satisfying, and im starting to think that those associations are turning me into some sort of masochist LMFAO

i love doing it, i love lying upside down and letting my spine decompress, and stretching my limbs and letting myself go weightless in the silks, and the ache of my core when i pull myself up into a diaper climb, and the way my calf muscles have become so strong after months of hard work.

anyways i guess the lesson is that if traditional exercise isnt for you, try alternative exercise!! things like aerial silks, rebounding, bungee fitness, etc, because at least for me the issue was largely mental because traditional exercise didn’t give me the dopamine to keep at it and this new kind is! and of course it isnt for everyone, however i will say that as a fairly fat person myself aerial silks is actually quite accessible. a rigging can (or should be able to) hold 700+ pounds, and because of the extra weight you end up gaining quite a lot of muscle because you have to put in more work to pull yourself up (same reason why fat people often have VERY strong calves, because walking takes more energy than for someone who weighs less)

i just. really love the classes, i love the teachers, and i love seeing all the regulars, and having people who know my name and smile when they see me feels so good. idk, im a lot happier now, i can focus better on schoolwork, and im mad that my mom was right and that exercise DOES make you feel good lol. a lot of that stuff is due to being on medications that help me with my conditions but the exertion of silks definitely helps as well.

er, ted talk over, anyways! highly highly recommend aerial silks, it hurts like hell but if you’re crazy like me you’ll start to like it LMFAO, have a good day

.

[theromanticjedi]

Viktor was a smart man- IS! He is a smart man, but Jayce, gods he makes Viktor feel so stupid.

Jayce x Viktor

Warnings: Talk about real world probloms?

A/N: Viktor is an Enviormental science student who is active in political and social probloms. He works at a small student owned human rights campain and makes posts about it on his socials. Jayce is an Engineer student. Who works at a small restaraunt. And helps Viktor figure out logistics. As a viktor kinnie looking for my irl Jayce, I approve this message.

"Okay, maybe choosing not to live in the dorms was stupid." Viktor huffs as He and Jayce walk back to their flat after classes. "Better accomidations at the flat." Jayce says not really looking up from his new work scedule, untill Viktor stops him from walking into traffic. "Eh, I could handle the stairs but walking in the cold, no." "Could you?" Jayce says a little dazed from getting pulled. "I dunno, probably." "But could you handle living with classmates?" Jayce smirks. "Eh, I live with you." "But thats diffrent." Jayce laughs as Viktor opens the door to the appartment building for him. "Is it now?" Viktor hums as Jayce unlockes the flat. "Isent it?" Jayce responds faking heart brake. "I mean, you are a classmate that I live with." Viktor reasons. "But you like living with me." Jayce smirks as he starts rummaging through the cabnits. "Hm." Vik hums as he lays his bag on his bed and starts taking out his home work. "Dont you?" Jayce says starting to dig into a bad of chips. "I suppose so. And dont eat all of thoes." Jayce smiles at that. "Would you rather cook?" Viktor thinks about it for a moment. "No. Order in, I have, eh a lot of work to do." "Homework?" Jayce asks placeing an order for there regular meals. "Mhm, and some personal studies." Jayce nods looking up at Viktor. "What kind of personal studies?" Viktor pulls off his sweater in favor of his "homosexual tendencies" t- shirt. He tried not to smile when he sees Jayce blush. "The normal kind." Jayce smiles and hands Viktor a hoodie knowing he gets cold. "Good luck saving the world, V. Ill text you when the food gets here." Viktor smile as Jayce once again proves how perfect he is. Trading his black jeans and stability brace for ball shorts and a fabric brace, he climbs into bed and opens his laptop. The image of him and Jayce doing some cheap face masks they got greet him. He hates to admit that he likes Jayce, and he wont unless directly asked. After a few minutes he hears his phone buzz but ignores it favor of a study about low life expectancy in low income areas.

Jayce lays all the food out on the coffee table and checks to see if Viktor has responded. When he sees he hasent Jayce decides to go get him. "V? Food's here." Viktor pushes his glasses up by rubbing his eyes. "Ah, yes. Sorry." Jayce gives a sentimental smile "No problem." After a moment they are both sitting on the couch food in hand and scrolling through tv. "Hey, V?" "Hm?" Viktor responds a mouthful of food. "...I dont see you as another classmate." Jayce confesses not making eye contact. "What do you mean, Jayce?" Viktor asks trying to decipher what exactly Jayce ment. "I mean, I feel close to you. I like you." Viktor laughs "Thats a relief, it would suck if you hated your flat mate-" "Viktor. I like, you." Jayce says more firmly looking at the other man now. "Oh." Viktor says quietly. "I..Im not good at talking about feelings but..I like you too."

A/N: i kinda lost modivation for this ive had a long day, but if you want more of this au or if you have any advice please shoot me an ask. Im always looking for inspo and mutuals.

[soaps-mohawk]

Hehehe thank you for giving me the permission to yap. Idk how long this will end up being so grab a snack to read-

(and to my ask before. I agree with you. I was close to rage quitting SO MUCH but then I'd cry cause I didn't want to loose where I was in the mission so I cried my way through it. Darn you Kyle for falling out of that plane... and yes. I used youtube vids for the alone mission HELP)

Okaayyy my fic idea. Its possibly going to be a dystopien omegaverse fic, reader is a omega, Price and Ghost are alpha's and Soap and Gaz betas (I've always imagined them like that since reading ur fic, but i make them other things depending on the ship. and what the story is like. like nikprice, i oftern think of alpha x alpha or make John a omega heh)

So outline part 1 is, the worlds population has been greatly plumeting, since the old goverment wasnt strict as the new one. The new goverment takes over, and builds a intitute that forces omegas into it as soon as they present to teach them to be the 'perfect omega'. its one of those VERY messed up places, like the guards or workers dont give a damn, they get no help and are brainwashed to not tell anyone abt how it works. (This was one of the parts where i was scared it was close to urs, thats why im yapping now so if u think its too close u can scold me and tell me to think of smt else LOL)

As soon as omega's hit 18, they are sent out into a pack or with an alpha. betas can join a waiting list, but alphas get priority. Now, when the rest of the task force was offered, they declined. But poor Johnny just wanted his own lass, he didn't think it'd be bad. so he joins the waiting list, and ends up getting reader. And well the rest arent happy cause now they gotta help look after this traumatised lil thing.

What i was thinking, Johnny has never had a omega, because of the intitute and goverment. So he has no proper idea on how to care for an omegas needs, like heats and everything. so he ends up getting the rest of the team to slowly help (it overtime becomes a poly relationship) but as reader feels safer, she ends up feeling safe enough to talk about what happened in the institute (cause whos gonna come after a military pack, they're protecting her?!)

but ofc, the goverment finds out and like nup they aint having that, and they take her back. (this is sometime idk when) but they all end up turning against the whole goverment and yada yada. Theres prob A LOT i would change so far and add, but I havent gotten that in depth yet.

do u think thats too simular to CRCB... idk I was thinking about it once then i remember oh crap thats sounding a lil familiar- part of the reason i wanted to tell you abt it, also just bc i wanted to yap abt it bc if i end up writing/changing it its just rlly interesting. you dont veen gotta answer this if its too close just msg me and scold me HELP-

anyway ill stop my yapping before it turns into a novel.

Reminder to get a drink and a snack, I hope you can get plenty of rest <3 (apologies for any spelling mistakes, I'm half asleep and couldn't be entirely bothered to reread and Im just praying it makes sense. Grammarly dont like me)

I think that's a great idea!! Very unique!! I'm glad I could inspire you to write your own fic and I don't mind the similar ideas. (So long as credit is given where credit is due)

[nebulanewts]

i am curious, what do you think of the whole sifas lanzhu thing that some people seem to not be able to get over -- with her forcibly disbanding the idol club and such to make her association? ill be honest and say i last watched those stories when i was like. 14/15, so my memory of it might be a bit off, but i dont think it was as awful as people seem to think. it was just love live taking their steps to having a more proper antagonist, and people simply werent used to that (honestly, i cant think of the lanzhu thing negatively, as shes probably the reason im still into love live) also, from what ive heard of liella s3 and such (still havent watched it... bad at motivating myself to do things even when i wanna do them), i feel like if anyone enjoys the modern love live groups, they have to thank niji (well, mainly shioriko/lanzhu, i think) for doing the experimentation that allowed the franchise to do what its currently doing

Hey,I hope you know this is something I think about often bc to this day it’s still confusing to me like yeah not everyone is gonna like Lanzhu and that’s okay but the way ppl acted like she was the absolute worst for… *checks notes* wanting friends?? Still baffles me like yeah she could’ve handled it a lot differently but it’s not like she knew better at the time 🤷‍♀️ showing off how cool and perfect she is is all she knows,so that’s what she did!! But guess what? She eventually learns that that doesn’t always work and slowly becomes friends w/ the Niji girls! She changes!! Again I can see why one wouldn’t like her but the initial reaction WAS kind of a lot

TL:DR: Zhong Lanzhu was not evil,just misguided and ppl’s reaction also confused me (also without giving any spoilers,Superstar s3 is very good ^^)

[alchemicourtesy]

HEYEY! glad to see more people into vat7k!!! Would you mind sharing more of the insight n what your perceptions of the characters are? I saw your post about Hugo n Var as well as the involvement with Nuru in the tags and was wondering!!! No pressure ofc <3 also love your art it's REALLY AWESOME !

hi! thank you so much :] im rlly glad ur interested... as new as i am to this story and world i'm still ironing out my own opinions and headcanons and ideas so everything is in a rough place atm but i'd love to talk about what i Do have right now ^^

i'm sort of operating under the idea of what this would look like if it were a tv show rather than a comic only for the sake of structure and me being able to visualize it haha. doesnt mean anything beyond that.

i love the idea of there being 7 kingdoms, 7 alchemic laws, and 7 "lessons" for the characters to learn and id probably divide it through 3 seasons with the last season focusing on either 2 or 1 (heavy emphasis on what would be the "library arc") and allocating the extra "arcs" to s1. but anyways

mainly i like the idea of like. each of the group getting a chance to shine an equal amount. obviously they'd all have something to gain from every lesson but imo id put a particular emphasis on them all getting 2 each to hammer home their development and experiences. i havent ironed out who learns what and its not like...an exact science rn so thats a work in progress

nuru is interesting to me in particular bc i think theres a notable position she is in being a princess and wanting to be hands on. for her character particularly i feel like its important she be able to learn how to care for her subjects and hone the skills she needs for the responsibility she has but also allowing herself to understand herself as a person and an individual without having to sacrifice her duty to her people and her community. too many times i see in media where a character has this huge responsibility and they have to learn to care about and understand Themselves first and while thats important i feel like its not always possible or feasible and also it's hard. it's rlly hard to grapple with both of those things at the same time. and nuru being a princess she Wants to help her people. she Wants to have the responsibility to care for them but she still must learn what that will look like for her specifically and how she can be that person she wants to be without phoning it in or anything.

with yong i saw it was mentioned he has a huge loving family that supports him and wants to see him succeed, but he's just sort of wild and unpredictable in ways i think varian can relate to from when he was younger. there's nothing really "wrong" with yong, but he has to understand and learn balance and control where he struggles with it and that he can be the person he wants to be but there has to be instances where he takes his time and understands that progress isnt linear. which gives varian a good place to act as an older brother figure obviously bc thats shit he himself learned in tts lol

varian's arc Kind of began and ended in tts so i just see vat7k as a way of expanding on stuff he already has learned yet not rlly like. rehashing stuff he should already know

hugo is a little trickier for me bc i think there are a Lot of similarities he shares narratively with eugene (which makes sense given that he was said to have been acquainted with eugene in the past, at least somewhat). they're similar but they're not the Same, so i wouldnt want hugo to just be repeating the same beats that eugene already learned. in my opinion hugo is smug and he thinks somewhat highly of himself, but hes not a bragger. hes not snarky nor will he actively antagonize the group. what reason would he have to? he wants them to like and trust him and i dont rlly see that happening if hes always being a jerk to them haha.

thats all i got for now i think but feel free to ask me abt more stuff if ur interested : )

[hipsternumbertwo]

Some things never change 🤞

[dykedvonte]

Curly's little blurb on his steam trading card just keeps reminding me he is a much more miserable person than people realize.

We don't get a lot of his thoughts, inner confliction that aren't bogged down by what Jimmy says or does. Even in the The Last One and Then Another, his dialogue is reflective, not the Curly before the crash but the result of everything. Parts of the him he was are there of course, but also disfigured and warped beyond recognition just like he is physically.

Curly really doesn't think much of himself and desires. He clearly chases fleeting moments of happiness. He doesn't really have prospects for himself, assumes in a similar way to Swansea, that if it should make it happy then he is happy. Though, he hasn't reached the point Swansea did to admit it doesn't. He neither sees the glass half full or empty, it's just water, something he needs and he'll take it from any perspective.

He wasn't running from anything but he's never really been going towards something either. He's listless. I've been using the term complacent to describe how he feels about his life and the closest people (really just Jimmy) in it, but now that word feels too neutral, too nice. Happier than Curly really was. There isn't just one word for it, he's unfulfilled, uncertain, uninspired. There are no active problems he faces and that's the issue, why should he be upset?

I believe he really is a person who doesn't know who he is or wants to be. He follows a structure. I don't think he's suicidal, but he clearly doesn't think about what makes him happy. He's numb. I suppose that is a better word than complacent, used to the feeling even if he hates it. It doesn't hurt so why stop it?

[softness-and-shattering]

I think theres a couple adjacent conversations happening here, at least one about the ADL and one about goyims response to the ADL.

What I want to say is, I understand the idea of appeasement, and its possible thats what the ADL are going for, or perhaps theyre trying to not paint a target on their backs for musk and the president who unfortunately have a lot of power between them (which could be wishful thinking thaflt there isnt already a target there).

Re 'branding musk irredeemable' and his apparent auschwitz tour with ben shapiro, it seems to me that we're past that. He didnt get up and do a big sig heils as "first buddy" (which is a wtf title but the point is he feels incredibly powerful right now), to agree to walk it back. Hes got the power and hes not hiding or pretending, his is loudly declaring allegiance. I think then it stops being the ADLs job to try course correct him, its too late for that, and it is now their job to look at the spade and identify the spade and say "ALERT. THATS A SPADE. ALERT".

By instead calling it 'an awkward gesture' and hoping for UNITY with the guy doing the sig heil, theyre going "lalalala no spade here lalalalala" and as their mission to my understanding is identifying and combating antisemitism, this is a moment of major failure for them. You can work towards unity with all kinds of people with all kinds of differences, but you cant play nice with nazis or fascists, as their targets, and hope they'll change their minds. Maybe sometimes with some people on an individual level but this isnt as individuals this on the international stage. This isnt your brother your aunt your cousin sounding a little faschy and you can help them, this is elon fucking musk as empowered by president trump. Mr blood money billionaire and the president rapist.

It doesnt mean the ADL has never been correct, will never be correct, and are entirely untrustworthy altogether, as AOC seems to be stating, thats also an absurdity. It does mean that for many possible reasons, they have made what looks like a massive misstep. I *hope* they have good reason and I *hope* its part of some larger plan of damage control. I dont know though. Im not sure I believe anyone is playing 4D chess its just comforting to think *someone* has things under control. The ADL mightve just been panicking and I cant entirely fault them for that. We dont always make the best choices when we are afraid.

Guys... the ADL said, and I quote (quoting manually because fuck nazi twitter I'm not embedding it and I can't be arsed to screencap, google for confirmation if you want),

"This is a delicate moment. It’s a new day and yet so many are on edge. Our politics are inflamed, and social media only adds to the anxiety. It seems that

@elonmusk

made an awkward gesture in a moment of enthusiasm, not a Nazi salute, but again, we appreciate that people are on edge. In this moment, all sides should give one another a bit of grace, perhaps even the benefit of the doubt, and take a breath. This is a new beginning. Let’s hope for healing and work toward unity in the months and years ahead."

Bull. Fucking. Shit. That was a nazi salute, done to the crowd and then a second time to the flag. By a guy who's said a lot of antisemitic shit and sympathized with/endorsed nazis up to and including AfD in Germany.

The Usual Suspects are eating this up and talking about how this proves people talking about "antisemitism" are just trying to defend Israeli war crimes and don't care about Diaspora Jews.

You've seen the stuff I reblog; we're in a "broken clock sorta right twice a day" situation. While I disgree with them strongly on a lot of things (far more than I did sixteen months ago), I think they're right about one thing here.

We can't trust the ADL anymore. If they refuse to acknowledge Musk's fucking sieg heil, we cannot rely on them to reliably fight antisemitism anymore.

I understand why they may feel the need to make compromises to have continued access to the halls of power and avoid being institutionally attacked... but while those compromises may protect them it leaves those they exist to protect high and dry.

Stay safe everyone.

[tcustodisart]

Whenever I drew Connie with a single dandelion behind his ear this scene was playing in my head like wii channel music.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

i would like to draw him more i think..