#but we were in a place that I associate with my trauma and my last relationship ended really traumatically as well

[himblebo]

Hate that I’m having a huge fucking freak out after a really nice day

[flaggermuser]

When You Loved Me

1,209 words || Fluff, Spoilers for Season 4 Episode 4, Hurt/Comfort, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma ||

Inspired by the idea that at least one doctor would have formed an attachment.

Thank you to @bisexualhomelander for being my beta

They're nearly all dead, there's just one loose end that Homelander needs to tie up.

So he stands outside the unassuming house, ready to cross the final name off his list, which he found in an old abandoned file documenting his ‘development’.

It was a stroke of luck that he found you - it seemed as if Vogelbaum scrubbed you from all official records.

Determined to finish what he's started, he knocks on your door and waits impatiently, ready to strike you down where you stand.

“I’m coming!”

He freezes, his entire body tensing up as your voice unlocks memories from his time in the lab, ones buried deep somewhere at the back of his mind.

A frightened and hurt little boy being held, being comforted after the incinerator and the other horrible forms of torture he was subjected to.

“Shhh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here. Shall we read another story?”

The door slowly opens and there you are. 

Now that he's seen your face, the memories are more vivid. There’s still that kindness in your eyes, the one he saw every night before he went to sleep. 

At least, for a few months before you disappeared.

“Hello, John.” Your smile is still as warm as he remembers. “My, how you’ve grown. Come in, come in!”

With trepidation, he slowly enters, unsure of what he’ll find. It’s homely, filled with curiosities and everything he’s ever associated with a true American home. As he follows you into your living room, he notices some of the pictures on the wall with you and your former colleagues at Vought, some of whom he’s already killed.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“A glass of milk would be nice,” he replies, trying his best to smile while conflicting thoughts swirl in his mind.

He was so convinced that you were like the others that had you not spoken, he would have killed you the moment you opened the door.

“Well take a seat, I’ll be right back.”

He takes a seat on your couch, hands in his lap, looking around the room again. That’s when he notices the mantelpiece, covered in photos and newspaper clippings, all in ornate frames.

Not of your family - of him. They’re all of him.

Taking pride of place in the middle of the mantelpiece is a picture from several years ago.

“Don't worry John, it's just a camera. All I'm going to do is take a picture of just the two of us. I promise it won't hurt.”

He's sat on your lap, your arms around him, holding him tightly, protectively, a smile on your face.

He’s smiling too. He’s happy. He’s with you.

They took you from me.

“Here we go,” your return snaps him back to reality, his eyes softening as he notices the glass of milk in your hand and a plate of cookies in your other, settling it down on the coffee table in front of him.

It’s such a sweet gesture.

You take a seat in a nearby armchair, “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

After all these years, you’re still this beacon of absolute kindness.

“Do I call you John or Homelander?”

“John.”

How did I forget how lovingly you said my name? How did I forget you?

“I’m so proud of you, you’ve done so well. And look at you, you’re The Homelander! Leader of the Seven!”

His lower lip quivers, trying to keep himself together but it’s proving harder. Your praise comes from a place of pure love, something he’s never experienced or at least, he can’t remember experiencing.

“I see you’ve noticed the mantel. I know I must seem mad but I’ve been following your progress.”

You cared about me, you care about me, it’s all genuine.

“You were so young when I last saw you, with that lovely little smile.”

You reach out to take his hand but he pulls away, only so he can take off his glove. It looks so small in his, he knows if he squeezes just a little, all your bones would be crushed to dust.

But he won't.

“The things we did. Oh John, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I didn’t do anything to save you. I should've stood up to Vogelbaum, I should've protected you."

Saved him, protected him - the regret is written all over your face.

They regretted their actions too, only after he reminded them. Then they apologised but it was too late for them, maybe it’s still too late for you. 

He squeezes your hand, trying to comfort you. 

“You know, I think about you every day. I wanted to reach out but I figured Vogelbaum would have any attempt at contact blocked, especially from me. All because I chose to be human.”

Human. They were human too and they tortured me.

It’s clear that is a sore subject for you, nowhere near as painful for him but the fact it makes you sad somehow makes him feel better. It shows that you cared.

“They fired me for ‘interfering with the experiment’ but how could I not?! You were scared, you were crying and they left you all alone in that horrid room.”

The bad room.

“I couldn’t just leave you there to cry yourself to sleep. So I volunteered to take the night shift. Do you remember… remember the first time?”

His jaw tightens, desperately searching his mind for even the tiniest hint of a recollection yet all of the torment he was subjected to has buried everything deeper. 

“You were terrified that I was going to hurt you, your eyes glowed red and you trembled. I knew you didn’t want to hurt me but you would if you had to.”

You understood.

“It took you a few minutes to realise I wouldn’t hurt you - I think it was the books under my arm that convinced you I wasn’t a threat.”

A single flash - “Would you like me to read you a story?”

“I sat down on your bed, you sat on my lap and we read story, after story, after story. Until you didn’t want me to read anymore, you just wanted me to hold you. So I did exactly that.”

He desperately wants to remember, he needs to remember. 

“Then Vogelbaum found out, I must have forgotten to turn the cameras off and I was removed from the project. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve marched right back in there and demanded to take you. But I didn’t.”

But you’re here now. They’re all dead but you’re still here.

“I forgive you,” it slips out of his mouth, however, this time it’s heartfelt. He means this without malice.

You’re the parent he’d always wanted, living in a house he always dreamed of, serving him milk and cookies like he’s still that young boy you cared about.

Maybe it wasn’t too late, maybe there could be something here, born from the ashes of your past sin and his trauma.

Sniffling, you wipe away your tears, tightening your grip on his hand. When the smile returns, it’s affectionate and all for him.

“I want you to know, John. I need you to know, that you’ll always have a place here and in my heart."

[richarlotte]

something on your mind?

Time to talk about love.

My friends, my good friends who are in Chicago, D.C., Montreal, Philly, and New York and who are in amazing relationships, share one thing: they focused on bettering their lives and themselves, and good men fit into the picture they were focused on painting. There was no “I’m going to find a good man and do the work later,” and there were no excuses made as to why they were neglecting themselves in favor of finding someone to take care of them; there were many distinct efforts made to better themselves, and when the right people came along, things fell into place naturally on both sides and progressed smoothly.

 

There’s a lot of focus on whether someone will fit into your life on Tumblr, but not a lot of talk about what’s going on on the other side. If you’re unhealed, uneducated, emotionally unstable, and unfit for a relationship, do you really think that you’ll find someone who’ll want to stay with you and do the healing for you? I say this not to be unkind but to be realistic. In order to form a strong, long-lasting relationship with someone, you have to be healthy and ready to deal with the conflicts and disappointments that occur in anyone’s life. If you have never had to deal with the things that can arise in any romantic relationship and you’re not mentally prepared to in the first place, you’ll find that it’ll be harder for you to keep things together and remain stable when life feels hard.

 

I have been in relationships before—healthy relationships—and I have thrived in them. But I’m also a person with trauma, and I know how that trauma presents itself and I know my triggers. It took me plenty of therapy, lots of listening to myself and acknowledging my feelings, and tons of breakups before I recognized both what I needed and what I was subconsciously seeking out. All of my friends who have made their longterm relationships last know what they’re looking for, know what they need, and know themselves well enough to walk away before things end on bad terms. Self-work must be done if you want to truly thrive in life, and you must have the ability to reflect on the things you could have done better.

 

Myself and the people I’ve known who’ve gone from struggling to thriving in relationships all share one common denominator: we’ve done the hard work associated with success, and we’re all willing to continue doing the work needed to get what we want. It’s incredibly hard and very damaging to one’s psyche to go through life with a clear image of what you want in your mind but a lack of awareness that limits you from getting what you want. It’s important to understand that you can overcome the obstacles in your own path and you can also overcome being an obstacle yourself. There are effective ways to heal, books you can immerse yourself in, therapists you can see, and things you can do to build yourself up so that you can thrive and feel more confident in your love life.

TL;DR:

You have to be willing to do the inner work before you seek out a romantic partner. A relationship won’t repair you if you feel broken; only you can heal yourself and fix your trauma. It’s an important part of finding yourself and finding a love that lasts and feels healthy.

[thewordswewrite]

Be My Guest

Pairing | Kate Carter x Tyler Owens

Summary | One time Tyler stays in Kate’s guest room and one time she stays in his

Warnings | discussions of trauma/injury associated with storm chasing, SMUT 18+

W/C | 6.6k

A/N | We wanted to hop into the Twisters fandom before it took ao3 by storm and this is *so far* what we've come up with. So...if you feel it... -smoe <33

AO3 | Link

Donations | Link 

Hers

She came home for safety, familiarity, to find her way forward but instead, she found herself more lost than when she’d arrived. 

It was only supposed to be a week. Sure, Kate thought it would be difficult to be back in the field but she hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t anticipated him. It shouldn’t matter. She had a job in New York, a life, a stable, safe job, her own apartment–everything she needed. But was it everything she wanted? 

What Tyler had said crossed a line but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. It was just something she probably already knew, deep down, and hadn’t wanted to accept. She was running away from the storm but she should know better than most that it would always catch up.

With an aggravated sweep of her arm, all of her past research was on the floor, pages floating around her before finding a place to land. She almost immediately regretted the mess but it had felt good. For the last five years, she’s avoided risk but now it almost feels hypocritical to say that she misses it.

Kate bent to gather the papers but only grabbed a few before stopping at her Cloud Physics notebook which had fallen open to a familiar page. She sat down in front of it and traced the impressions of her writing on the pages. It was too much to retrace her steps, to consider what had gone wrong. She needed to get out of her head and she couldn’t do that without getting out of this damn barn.

She knocked lightly on the kitchen door so as not to startle her mom. Being an adult, Kate felt an aversion to putting these things on her mom. Her mother had always been supportive, even when knowing her daughter’s passion was actively putting her in danger. Maybe she just didn’t want her mom to repeat the same sentiments as Tyler but she also knew she wasn’t about to come to any decision without some guidance. Just like seeing her middle school science project again, she felt like a child standing in the kitchen.

“Kate?”

“Yeah, it’s just me.” She sighed and pulled out the chair at the dining table that had always belonged to her. The smell of whatever her mother was stirring made her stomach grumble. “Where’s Tyler?”

“Oh, he drove pretty far so he’s getting cleaned up.” Kate could tell her mom was trying to sound uninterested, maybe for her sake but still she asked, “What’s his story anyway?”

“He’s just some internet star from Arkansas,” She explained, picking at a stain on the table. For a moment she thought about leaving it at that but the fire he had lit in the barn was still burning inside her. Sardonically, she added, “He’s made a living as a so-called ‘Tornado Wrangler’ but so far he’s only shot some fireworks into a cyclone and nearly killed the reporter signed on to cover him and his team.”

Her mom chuckled and replied, “Sounds like a man looking for a thrill to me.”

Again, she felt like a child relaying the latest gossip from the schoolyard but she couldn’t help but continue.

“And his whole team is this ragtag group of people who’ve never been to school for this either!”

“I see.”

“I mean sure he’s studied meteorology but they could get seriously hurt.” Kate had busied herself by fiddling with a napkin she’d pulled from the homemade holder. The shreds of it were getting smaller and smaller.  “They’re no professionals.”

Her mom hummed, acknowledging her annoyance but countered with, “Well he doesn’t seem too bad to me, he did drive all the way here.” Although her mother graciously spared her the ‘for you’ that they both knew completed that thought, she felt its weight. It was easier to make him seem unlikeable than tell her mom that it was her that was in the wrong.

“You’d believe me if you saw the shirts he sells, his face all sprawled across them.” Kate laughed, thinking of the cheesy slogans. It wasn’t lost on her that she had assumed the worst of him. She thought back to what Lily had said and felt ashamed. “Though,” She conceded, “the money does pay for food for the aftermath survivors. They were handing it  out at the last town we were in after the tornado hit.”

“Not all bad then?” Her mother turned fully to face her and Kate knew her teasing expression said all she needed to know.

“I guess not.”

_ _ _

Dinner had been passable, if not enjoyable. Kate had figured it would be awkward, that the dynamic between her and her mom would be offset by Tyler’s presence but it had flowed easily. The only gripe she had was that her mother had gone over her head to invite him to stay the night. In her ideal world, she would’ve ushered him out right after dinner saying a quick thanks for his concern but sending him on his way knowing that she’d never have an obligation to speak to him again. 

Tyler had, of course, helped her mom with the dishes, leaving her to watch awkwardly so as not to take up unnecessary space in the small kitchen. She’d shot him a tight smile as he’d excused himself to his room for the night. 

“Well,” Her mom said from the doorway, “I’m off to bed. Shut the lights, will you?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she made her way past the living room to her bedroom. 

Kate tapped her fingers sporadically against the table, the sound echoing in the quiet house. She hadn’t been fully present for dinner. Every time she looked at Tyler she could only think about what she was doing wrong, what she was missing. As much as she resented the fact, there was no way she could make peace with the past couple of days if she didn’t get in another word with him.

She flipped the last of the switches off and made her way up the stairs, avoiding the ones she knew were extra creaky. At the landing, Kate considered just going to her bedroom but her feet kept their integrity and trudged her towards the guest room.

Her hand was poised to knock when the door opened.

“Kate?” The sound of his voice combined with the unexpected image made her jump. Whatever she had been prepared to say had left with her surprise but Tyler was already speaking again.  “Listen, what I said in the barn was out of line I shouldn’t have–”

“No you shouldn’t have…but you weren’t wrong either.”

Stepping back, he opened the door a bit more and though it wasn’t quite an invitation. It was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross with his apology and her admittance the gist of what she’d hoped for. She promised herself that if he didn’t try to say anything else, she’d just turn around and walk away. He bit his lip, seeming to wrestle with something the same way she was.

“What’s the story behind you and Javi?” The question surprised her and she felt a vague excitement about his interest or rather the fact that he was interested at all. But the story itself was not something she was sure she could share.

“We met in college, he was friends with my…my boyfriend at the time.”

Tyler’s eyebrow raised in a silent question before he said, “And your boyfriend he was…”

She couldn’t stand in the hallway any longer where she was fully open to his scrutiny whether the story inspired pity or something else. Kate stepped past him into the room and started to explain,

“He was in the accident, along with two of my best friends.” She folded her arms across her chest, in a way trying to shield herself from the memories. “We were testing the polymer on what we thought was an EF1 but–”

“It was an EF5.” She nodded and his lips shifted into a sympathetic frown. Kate sat on the edge of the bed so that she didn’t have to face him head on.

She continued with, “So, I quit school and packed up to New York. Javi went back to Miami but because of the outbreak he thought he could use a second pair of eyes and invited me on.” From her peripheral, she could see the way he nodded along as she spoke, the genuine compassion still written in his features. She shrugged, unwilling to allow herself to feel the extent of the situation and the memories in front of him, “None of it matters though, I’ll be back in the city by the end of the week anyway.”

“You mean you’re giving up?” Tyler asked like it was somehow a personal affront to him or some greater injustice. Kate wasn’t sure what he cared. They’d only just met and he didn’t know her, not really. 

“I’m not giving up. I can’t live like this again, risking my life every day.”

“Because of the accident?” The way he said it, like it was only a passing moment and not something that monumentally changed not only her life but her, made her response sharp. 

“Yes, because of the accident.” 

He was unshaken by her hostility and placed a hand lightly on top of hers where it sat between them on the bed.

“Kate, I’ve seen people get hurt too, I’ve–” She couldn’t listen to this, couldn’t have him reduce her experience by comparison. If he thought this was the way to change her mind, he was sorely mistaken.

“Yeah, Tyler, well I got hurt. I watched people die, and I’ll bear those scars for the rest of my life.” Her body filled with tension of the memory as her breath began to quicken. She let the anger take over, the simplicity of it easier than the complicated truth. “I don't know why I even–”

 “Hold on–Kate!”

Kate could feel the air his failed reach created as he tried to grab her wrist to stop her. She was fast though, spurred on by the singular goal of getting the hell away from him. When she made it to the threshold of her room, she moved to shut the door. It almost slammed fully closed but groaned as the wood crashed into the foot he’d managed to snake in.

“Go to bed,” She demanded.

“So what, you’re going to help Javi line the pockets of Riggs for the rest of the week? The real estate shark that's directly profiting off the suffering of these people?” It seemed he couldn’t help, was adept at, pushing her buttons. If she were any bolder, she’d have already struck the self-righteous expression off his face.

“I didn’t know about that, I would have never–these are my people but this isn’t the way, the polymer didn’t work and people died because of it.”

“More will too, but only if you don’t do anything.” He tried to reach for her again but she shrugged away, “It could work. Together we could do this.” Tyler’s expression was pleading, his eyes urging her to make the right decision.

“Goodnight, Tyler.”

His

The flight was thankfully uneventful and much easier than her last flight to Oklahoma when she’d been dreading the very idea of her return. There were still memories that haunted the place she called home but now she could rest assured that they weren’t losses for nothing and that she may very well be able to save someone, hopefully many someones, from the same suffering she had endured for years.

Kate dragged her suitcases through the airport and the bustle of people coming and going made her feel oddly comforted. New York was easy to get lost in and for the time, it was exactly what she needed. But it had only ever been a place she ran away to and after a while she was running too fast to ever see it for what it was. Here, in Oklahoma, she was home.

She made her way out to the pickup lanes and was met with a calm blue sky, one that she knew–or maybe even hoped–wouldn’t last. At the five-minute mark, Kate was unbothered. By ten, she considered concern. By twenty, she was on the phone. It took three calls getting sent to voicemail before her mother picked up on the fourth.

“Hey, are you alright?” She tried not to sound too concerned but it wasn’t like her mother to forget an obligation or to not pick up the phone. 

“Oh, sunshine, I’m fine. It’s my truck that’s acting up,” Her mom replied. “I was on the road already when it decided to quit on me. I’m not sure how long repairs are going to take. You want me to call someone for you?” Kate sighed, more relieved by her mother’s well-being than bothered by the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” She answered, “As much as you don’t like it, I am a big girl. I can take care of it.”

“I know you can, baby. Don’t worry about making it here tonight, just take care of yourself.”

They exchanged ‘I love you’s before it sunk in that actually did have to take care of it. She found herself a spot on a nearby bench and tucked her luggage in beside her. Scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovered over Javi before something urged her to keep going. Kate wasn’t sure if this was a bad idea but lately, she could handle a little risk.

“Hello?” She bit her lip, knowing this was her last chance to turn back. Still, he might not even be around or available to get her.

“Hey, Tyler?”

“Uh, yeah?” His voice was in performance mode, his uncertainty no match to his inherent charisma. Kate found herself filled with an urgent hope.

“It's Kate, Kate Carter.”

“Kate!” She could hear the smile in his voice. It was the first time she’d called him since he gave her his number and she was just beginning to regret not using it sooner. “What uh…what's going on?”

Her stomach flipped at the realization that she had to explain herself, that she wasn’t just calling him. Oh god, was this a mistake? Kate had thought there was something there when they were saying goodbye but maybe this was pushing it.  

“Are you in Oklahoma by any chance?”

“I am actually,” Tyler replied before he, with a hopeful tone, asked, “Are you here?”

“Do you think you could pick me up from the airport?” She fought the urge to cross her fingers like a little girl. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had to call Javi but she couldn’t help but want to see where this path led.

“Of course!” Her chest tightened, a mix between excitement and worry. “Is everything alright with your mom?” Kate’s cheeks flushed, touched by his concern. 

“Yeah–truck just wasn’t starting, don’t worry,” She said, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

“Alright then, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” In the background, Kate could hear his keys jingling already and she smiled to herself.

“Thanks so much. Bye.”

_ _ _

Kate had been inside, sitting at a cafe when her phone buzzed in her pocket, Tyler letting her know that he’d made it. She tossed out her empty coffee cup before regathering her things and taking a deep breath. If she was being honest with herself, she was excited to see him but she didn’t want to endure the inevitable teasing she’d be subject to should she seem too eager to be in his presence.

The sliding doors opened and it took her a minute to spot the familiar red truck. Her eyes followed the path to where Tyler was busy basking in the attention of an adoring fan. What more could she expect?

“And did you want this signed cause I could definitely sign this for you.”

He didn’t notice as she siddled up, even with the rumble of her suitcases on the concrete. She shook her head at the display of his ‘Tornado Wrangler’ persona and thought better than to let him off the hook.

With the exaggerated voice of a dedicated fan, she implored, “Oh my goodness! Is that Tyler Owens? I am your biggest fan!”

“That’s me darlin’, what can I do for–Kate.” He cleared his throat and straightened out his posture, putting on the real Tyler at the sight of her. Kate bit her lip, sparing him the laugh that threatened to escape her.

“Tyler,” She said, “You look good.”

“Well, I feel good.” Tyler stood with his hands on his hips, the two of them alone now and it seemed neither of them knew just what to say. She laughed at his remark and began to heave her luggage into the bed. Before she could lift the larger of the two bags, Tyler was stopping her with a hand on her wrist. Kate looked up at him, confused. 

“Don’t make me make you get in the truck.” She glared at him, gauging whether or not he was serious. He only matched her expression. “Get in the truck,” Tyler repeated.

Kate rolled her eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. She couldn’t help but lean over toward the shift, running her fingers across the buttons. Her pointer finger landed on the tape labeled, ‘Kate’s Barrels’ and traced over his writing. When the driver's door opened, she jumped at the movement and tore her hand away. 

“Headed to your mom’s?” Tyler asked, fingers tapping a rhythm onto the wheel.

“Uh, no actually just any motel close would be good. Home’s a bit far and the flight was long. I just want to go to bed.” She reminded herself that that was the only reason.

“I’m close,” He told her. Since when was he close? “I mean you could stay in my guest room and I could take you back to Sapulpa in the morning?” The idea sounded as equally dangerous as it was appealing. With a motel, she was in control of the situation but his place? There was no knowing.

Clearing her throat she answered, “That…sounds fine.”

Tyler tipped his hat toward her and then he was making his way out of the parking spot. For a little while, they sat in comfortable silence, the radio filling the empty space between them. Once they were outside the city, it was comforting to watch as farmland made up her view. The word rattled in her head again. Home.

“So, how did it end up going with the investors?” He asked. “Good, I assume since you’re back in Oklahoma.” Kate couldn’t help but smile knowing well enough already how happy he’d be to hear. Not to mention how happy she was to achieve something she’d been chasing since the possibility entered her mind.

“Yeah, it went very well actually. We uh–we got a lot of people interested and the offers were so good…I quit my job and sold the apartment. I’m back, back.”

Tyler’s smile grew to a million watts as he exclaimed, “Kate! That’s amazing!”

“Thank you, we’re really excited.” She thought she saw his grin falter a bit but she couldn’t pin down why. Still, after a moment he let out a whoop, honking the horn at the expense of the car in front of them. Kate laughed, placing her hand over his to keep him from doing it again.

“So, where you planning on living? With Javi?”

“Actually I’m not sure yet. Javi has this new girlfriend from back in Miami and they’re pretty wrapped up in each other.” His eyebrows raised and she continued, “My mom's kind of out of the way too. Plus, she’s thinking of selling since seed prices just keep going up. Says she’s sick of the weather.”

Tyler’s jaw went slack, exaggerating his shock. “Sick of the–Sick of the weather?”

“What can I say, she doesn’t appreciate the beauty of the storm.” Kate sighed theatrically. Her hand went to her forehead in a ‘woe is me’ gesture. He chuckled, punching her playfully in the arm.

“On the topic of prices though, she is right.” Tyler sighed as he turned onto a new street.  “That’s why I bought land and started from the ground up.”

“Land?” She repeated. It hadn’t been that long that she’d been gone. When and more so why had he decided to put down roots and outside of Arkansas for that matter.

“Yes, ma’am.” His mouth quirked up in a prideful smirk.

“And here I thought I’d be sharing some shitty motel room.”

They pulled into a long dirt driveway, the grass surrounding it still young. While the house was clearly new, the style had a nostalgic feel to it. It was painted a fresh shade of cream and the white wrap-around porch just screamed summer nights. If she didn’t know better she’d think she was going to visit some sweet old lady.

“Here we are, home sweet home.”

Tyler opened her door for her like a proper gentleman and she stepped out into pleasant fresh air. The whole thing was picturesque. Kate supposed she shouldn’t really be surprised considering she didn’t really know his tastes but the whole thing surprised her nonetheless. 

She followed Tyler through the front door as he carried her bags inside. The interior was just as sweet as the exterior had been but Kate could see the signs that were uniquely him. There were various piles and pieces of gear strewn about that she recognized from having filled her mother’s house with. Even with the classic style, the appliances and layout were tastefully modern. She was impressed.

Kate stepped into the kitchen which seemed to be the most lived-in room. There were pictures of the Wranglers and what she assumed was his family stuck to the fridge. Her eyes drifted to a bulletin board hung up next to it and tacked up in the center of it was a page ripped out of their article from Ben, one with a picture of her. She could feel her cheeks flush even with him still in the other room. Though she wanted to, Kate knew she wouldn’t mention it.

“You hungry?” She jumped at the sound of Tyler’s voice.

“No, I couldn’t–” The same look that urged her to ‘get in the truck’ painted his face and she reconsidered her answer. “Starved.”

Tyler seemed satisfied. He pulled out a seat at the kitchen island where she could have a clear view of him whipping something together. The whole thing felt unnervingly domestic but she enjoyed it all the same.

“This place is really nice, Tyler,” Kate said. Gesturing toward his tricked-out home office–that was maybe a little too nice for a YouTube star–she pointed out, “Got a nice setup too.”

“Yeah, the team has pretty much paired off and they live here and there but we come back for a warm meal more often than not.”

“Not you though?” It had crossed her mind that maybe the sudden home ownership had been a response to some sort of serious relationship. She tried to sound casual since it wasn’t really any of her business.

Tyler smiled and shrugged. “Nah, a fearless leader has to hold down the fort.” Kate rolled her eyes and laughed at his cockiness. It was better knowing that it didn’t run deep. She thought better than to push it but still, she wanted to know what this whole thing was for.

“No, but seriously, why a house?”

“Oklahoma is the past, present and future of tornadoes. That’s no secret,” He replied like it was some well-known slogan. Yeah, the outbreak they experienced had put Oklahoma back on the map but Tornado Alley spanned a wide area, including Arkansas. 

“How do you figure?”

“Well you’re here, aren’t you?” Her stomach sank, trying to decipher the meaning behind what he said. His focus was trained on the pot in front of him like what he’d said was no big deal. What was she supposed to say to that?

Without an answer, Tyler clarified, “You’ve got better instinct than anyone I’ve ever met, better than any Doppler too.”

He’d turned to her and winked in her continued silence. Kate nodded with a smile like it was casual to her too. She shifted under his intense gaze and thought it was an apt time to break the tension with something she’d been tossing around in her mind. He laid a plate of spaghetti in front of her before sitting down himself. She cleared her throat.

“I was going to wait to bring this up but…I was wondering if you would consider being partners.”

“Really?” The excitement on his face was genuine and Kate could see the surprise too. It made her feel secure in her decision. 

“Javi and I both have stakes in it but he’s avoiding the field as much as he can right now. He’s got the business side under control but, like I said, he’s got someone at home who’d prefer he didn’t get blown away.”

Tyler stayed practically frozen in place. Maybe she’d overstepped her bounds after all. She could tell herself all she wanted that she wouldn’t be hurt if he didn’t want to partner with her but that didn’t make it the truth. 

“What do you say, me and you?” Kate asked, bracing for his answer.

“You and me,” Tyler replied genuinely and with what she hoped was a hint of awe.

They ate silently, half from hunger and half in consideration of their future. As much as Kate didn’t want to admit it, there were other questions lingering between them. When her plate was cleared, he insisted on taking care of the simple cleanup himself leaving Kate to sit idly at the kitchen table, unable to get anywhere else without his direction anyway.

With the dishes washed, Tyler turned his attention back to her but it seemed he had just as much of an idea of how to proceed as she did.

“So, uh…” She began, uncertain where she was going.

“I bet you probably want to get cleaned up. There’s an en suite in the guest room.”

“Yeah, great.” As much as she wanted to bolt, Kate got up from the table slowly as if she were as calm as could be. Still, she didn’t wait for any instructions as to where to go. She didn’t turn back to look at him as she climbed the stairs, internally cursing herself for adding to the awkward atmosphere.

“First door on the right!” Tyler called after her because, of course, she hadn’t asked.

_ _ _

The warm water had been just what she needed, especially paired with the time away from Tyler to think. As much as there had been a sense of tension between them, her feelings had settled on contentment and maybe even excitement. They were partners now and they had plenty of time to figure everything and anything else out. They’d been through hell already and he would help her through it again.

She stepped out of the shower, her feet hitting the plush bath mat, and reached for a towel. Her hand grabbed only air. Upon further inspection, the towel rack was completely unoccupied. Shit.

“Um, Tyler?” Kate called. She waited a few minutes for his response and when it didn’t come she yelled louder. “Tyler!” She let out a breath when she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Yeah?” 

“There are no towels in here!”

“Shit. My bad, no one has used that bedroom yet,” Tyler explained. His feet were already causing the wood floor to creak when he assured, “I’ll grab you one, be right back.”

Kate couldn’t believe this was happening. There was a good chance that she’d expose herself in the exchange. She’d even left her clothes on the bed, choosing to strip before going to the bathroom.

A few minutes later there was a hesitant knock on the door.

“Here, I brought you a few. I don’t know what you prefer,” Tyler said.

She had to assume that he was smart enough not to look. He’d been nothing but polite after all. When she opened the door, his eyes were covered by the palm of his hand, and his other arm was extended out to her. Kate tried not to laugh at the look of him.

“Thanks.” 

Kate wrapped the largest towel around herself and used another to dry the excess moisture from her hair. She pulled the door back open, assuming he was gone but she was met with his figure, eyes still shielded. Nearly bumping right into him, she let out an involuntary sound something between a squeak and a groan. Tyler echoed the sound and quickly flipped his hand so he could see her. She had to assume that his subsequent turning around was motivated by her state of undress.

She didn’t know what else to do besides starting to dress. It seemed he wasn’t done talking to her just yet. After a moment, he spoke.

“Uh, Kate…I, uh, realized I didn’t say thank you just then for considering me.”

“Who else could I possibly consider?” She winced at her own words. By no means did Kate want to sound like she was unhappy, she just didn’t want to make it a big deal between them.

“Well, right, I guess there’s not many storm chasers to begin with and especially not ones who’ve studied meteorology.” Kate could hear the slight hurt in his voice even as he tried to tease and she couldn’t blame him. She’d said the wrong thing. She quickly finished pulling on her pajama pants so she could focus on the conversation before she said something else she regretted.

“Tyler,” She said softly. He still had his back considerately turned to her. Like a kid trying to pass notes in class, Kate tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Tyler smiled as he faced her and it gave her the boost she needed to say what she wanted.  “You’re the reason I’m doing this in the first place. You believed in me even when I didn’t. We’re going to be helping people and that’s because of you.”

He was shaking his head before she’d even finished.

“You can’t believe that, it's your polymer, your idea–”

She took a confident step forward, the action effectively shutting him up. The closer Kate got the more she angled up at him, his height towering over her. Her hand found its way to his jaw, cupping it gently, her thumb brushing over the stubble of his skin. Before she had the chance to close the distance, Tyler took his chance to capture her lips with his own.

It started slow, hesitant to the possibility of too much too fast but quickly gained momentum as they threw caution to the wind. It had been years since Kate had done this, never quite feeling able to move on from Jeb and the accident but now with a sense of closure and Tyler’s guiding hand she felt ready.

His mouth was eager as their kiss deepened, Tyler’s tongue painting the inside of her mouth, almost as if he was committing it to memory. Their heavy breaths filled the air and neither of them seemed willing to break the kiss as the minutes went on. It wasn’t until her fingers played at the hem of his shirt that he broke off, looking down at her through hooded eyes, his mouth swollen and flushed.

“Kate…”

The sight was too much and she couldn’t help but bring her lips back to his skin. They found purchase at his pulse point, kisses littering his neck as she made her intentions known to him with every touch.

Taking a step back, Tyler’s hands cradled her face and he searched her eyes, looking for what she wasn’t sure but when he seemed to find it a smile broke across his face. It was the same smile he sported every time the wind picked up and the radar lit up red: a man ready to face a challenge.

“You still wanna stay in my guest room?” He asked, though his joking town was limited by his heavy breathing. Kate knew he was teasing but he was just as eager as she was.

“If you keep up with that attitude I just might,” She replied, smiling ruefully.

“Honey,” Tyler beamed, “all I’ve got is attitude.”

A chuckle escaped her lips and his face turned from cocky to sincere before he leaned in to steal a kiss once more. His hands moved from her face to grasping her own as he led her to what she assumed was his room.

Kate struggled to keep up as he held his hands behind him for her to grasp. She held them awkwardly as the unusual position did not grant her a good grip. The playful air gave her butterflies but also made her feel a sense of safety, knowing that things didn’t have to be heavy between them.

Tyler turned, pulling their hands over his head so that Kate twirled around with him. He used the momentum to guide her backward into his room with his hands on her hips, attempting a cheesily seductive smolder. She used her heel to kick the door shut behind them.

Kate walked ahead of him to go sit on the edge of his bed. She could tell he was watching her closely to consider his next move but she enjoyed the idea of playing coy with him. Ignoring him, she took in the space which was surprisingly sparse especially compared to the ground floor.

“Wow, real homey in here,” Kate joked, feigning awe at the blank walls

“Oh, hush,” Tyler chided, “It hasn’t been that long since we finished construction.”

She put up her hands in surrender and replied, “Sure, sure.” He rolled his eyes at her and then his expression became soft again. Tyler walked forward, kneeing her legs open and standing between them. With just a tilt of her head they were kissing again and this time when she grabbed his shirt, he let her take it off of him. Kate paused a moment to take him in, the image one she intended to commit to memory before pulling her own shirt over her head.

The rest of their clothes came quickly but when it was time for her to remove her jeans she hesitated.

“We don’t have to do this.” Tyler reassured her, misreading her reluctance. Kate shook her head.

“It's not that it’s–” She huffed in frustration and rather than continue to overthink, pulled her pants down in one swift motion, hoping he’d move past the interruption rather than linger on the issue.

Instead, his eyes moved immediately to her lower half and zeroed in on her leg…her scar. Kate’s stomach began to churn. She knew that he knew the story but she hated that it had to be part of this moment between them. He had been part of making it possible for her to redeem herself, to make sure the losses were not worth nothing. Still, the memories and the physical signs would never leave her. It made her insecure but if he had a problem with it, this wasn’t worth continuing.

“Is this from…”

“Yes,” Kate replied flatly. She didn’t have anything to prove and she wanted more than anything to move on from this as soon as possible. Tyler looked up from the marred skin on her leg and cupped her face with one of his hands. His eyes were filled with pure admiration.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Tyler’s lips were on hers again as he leaned her back into the bed, his body sculpting to hers. She felt a hand trail down her body, over her ass, before he hoisted her leg over his shoulder, his face turning towards her thigh and kissing over her scar as he lined himself up with her entrance. He looked at her until she realized he was waiting for her cue. She grabbed onto his upper arms and nodded, making it clear she was ready.

He was slow with her, caressing in all the right spots and making sure she was comfortable until he was finally fully inside her and they moaned in unison at the feeling. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time and when he took a moment to brush the hair from her face it made it all that much sweeter so much so that she laughed. Tyler looked at her, concerned but when she kissed him, he smiled into it catching her drift.

As he began to grind into her, he coaxed mewls from her lips, her hips meeting his instinctually at the pleasure. The way he watched her carefully for her reactions made her heart soar. He made it evident that they were in this together, that he cared about making her feel good. One of Tyler's hands still held her leg while the other found her clit, circling it while keeping pace and she couldn’t help the words spilling from her mouth.

“Tyler,” Kate pleaded, “Don’t stop.” He listened to her demand but she could see how it made him falter. His expression was that of awe as if he couldn’t believe that he was here with her, that she was enjoying what he was doing for them. She curled an arm around his neck and played with the hair there in a way that caused him to flush.

“I gotcha,” Tyler promised, somehow pressing them closer together, “I gotcha.”

She could’ve been embarrassed at how fast she came but Tyler didn’t give her a chance, instead riding her out through her climax and continuing to thrust even after. It was almost too much as tears of pleasure pricked her eyes and her moans filled the room. Her hands gripped the sheets, his arms, his hair, anything that she could reach to keep hold of her senses as they were overwhelmed. All she could think or comprehend was Tyler.

“I–I’m close,” He stammered, the tremble in his voice radiating throughout his body, “Kate, I–”

Her vision went white when she came again, though she could hear Tyler moan her name like a mantra, his head buried in her neck. One hand reached into his hair while the other traced absent circles on his back. It took him a minute but eventually, he came back to her.

“Hey,” He said, letting out a breathy laugh. 

“Hi.”

Tyler pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, clearly savoring the moment. Kate didn’t want it to end either but she was confident that it was only beginning. They both let out their own versions of a disappointed noise as he pulled out.

When he disappeared into the ensuite, she pulled his comforter up around her, the scent of him enveloping her as well. He came back with a damp towel and once helped her clean up, he flopped into bed beside her, pulling her into his side.

Kate placed a hand on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under her palm. Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She wanted to bask in the moment a bit longer but before she knew it she was beginning to yawn. 

The last thing she remembered before she fell into a peaceful sleep was the sweet kiss they shared and the soft rumble of his voice.

“Goodnight, Kate.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

TW: Drugs --- WIBTA if I continued getting high🍃 even though someone in the building doesn't like interacting with high people?

🍃🍲 for finding later:)

Specific ages don't matter, just know that everyone involved is over 21 and under 30, and we're in a place where recreational weed is legal. Names changed for privacy.

Context:

My husband (Luigi) and I (Bowser) lucked into qualifying for a relatively large apartment. We converted one of the bedrooms into a DnD / TTRPG room and we own a lot of RPGs, so we have people over basically every other night to play. Our apartment is like, a hub for queer/ally TTRPG nerds.

Husband's brother (Mario) DMs a game in my apartment on Mondays- the end of my work week. I used to play in that campaign with them, but my job is extremely demanding both physically and mentally so late last year I dropped the game so I could have more time to relax. It was mostly with people I don't know, and I openly would take a nibble of an edible before we would start to help calm my severe social anxiety. Mario has partaken in edibles with Luigi and me, and everyone else at the table was ok with it / took edibles too.

Summer of 2023 Mario got a girlfriend (Peach). She randomly swings by to watch us/them play, and has been there on some of the Monday night games. She comes over sporadically due to her own work schedule, so there's no way to know if she'll be there or not. Luigi and I have partaken in front of her before and there were no issues that we knew of.

Now here's where I may be the asshole.

A couple weeks ago, Mario mentioned offhand that he'll never bring Peach over when we're high, because she doesn't like being around high people. He said she had some kind of trauma associated with it and not to ask her about it because it could trigger her.

Mortified, I was like 'we've used edibles while she was here before, is that a problem??' Mario responded saying she never noticed so it wasn't anything to worry about.

Now that I'm not a part of the Monday game anymore I use my very limited free time while that game is going to sit in the bedroom, get high, and play video games. Everyone in the group knows not to disturb me while I'm resting, and I won't disturb them. Due to having pets (and asthma) Luigi and I don't even own any smokables- it's all edibles, so there's no smell. They're securely locked away from pets so there's no way to accidentally take one either.

WIBTA if I continued getting high in my bedroom, even though Peach could possibly show up? We don't interact during Monday nights anyways, but I genuinely don't want to hurt anyone so I don't know if my casual weed usage would still be an asshole move.

Other possibly relevant details: there's a bathroom connected to the bedroom, so if I stock up on snacks I genuinely don't have to leave while people are over. She could literally never know I was there.

I don't take weed medicinally, it's just casual usage.

Monday nights are my only me-time, so that's why I kinda don't want to give up the option of taking edibles on the off chance that Peach might show up- but I don't know if it's a dick move to continue partaking even though I know she could be there.

Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

“Every year, about 25,000 (UK) women who give birth — approximately 4 per cent — are so distressed that they meet the diagnostic criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder. That makes birth one of the biggest causes of PTSD in the UK according to the Birth Trauma Association charity – probably coming second only to sexual abuse and rape. Hundreds of thousands more women are traumatised. This is a major health crisis. And yet it is barely discussed…

According to figures from NHS Resolution, the arm of the Department of Health and Social Care that handles litigation, 62 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm in 2022-23 (£6.6 billion) related to maternity.”

When my husband and I left for hospital on a Friday afternoon, we had no idea what would happen. The next few hours would change my life. For good and bad. It had all started with a cervical sweep the day before. I was 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant and, frankly, I’d had enough. My pregnancy had been uncomplicated in terms of my baby — she was healthy throughout, albeit had spent much of her time in the back-to-back position. But I had found the nine months increasingly difficult. From around 20 weeks I’d suffered from pelvic girdle pain, which, for me, meant increasingly agonising pain in my lower back. Walking and other everyday movements became difficult. The only place I felt vaguely comfortable was in water. Swimming was a relief.

Women are offered a sweep to help induce labour. A midwife inserts their finger and sweeps around your cervix. It’s about as basic as you can get. They’re trying to separate the membranes of the amniotic sac that surround the baby from your cervix. This then releases hormones, which may help start your labour. “Some women find the procedure uncomfortable or painful,” NHS guidelines say. I found it excruciating.

“Oh,” the midwife said, as I lay in a rather compromised position. “I might have broken your waters.” This didn’t make sense to me. I’d always assumed that when my waters broke, I’d know about it. Apparently not always, and I was instructed to call the hospital if contractions hadn’t begun within 24 hours as I was now potentially at risk of infection.

They didn’t start. And I did what I’d been asked. The voice on the phone was chirpy — everything sounded fine, stay at home, we’ll be seeing you soon enough. Half an hour later, my phone rang. “Where are you? You’re meant to be at the hospital,” the woman said angrily. I needed to come in immediately to be examined.

It was late Friday afternoon and it was busy. We took the last of the beds in maternity triage. And my waters broke in earnest. That solved the mystery, I suggested. No, I was told, and the water birth I’d hoped for was out of the question — too risky.

Strong and regular contractions started immediately. We were moved to a glorified cupboard that had been turned into a makeshift holding room. I was denied any pain relief because it was “too early”, and told that someone would bring me some paracetamol when they came to “examine” me.

It seems obvious when you think about it, but I had never been told what being “examined” meant. Nor thought about it. It sounds medical. But it’s literally a midwife sticking their fingers inside you. I was 3cm dilated. Plenty of time to go, apparently. It was 9.30pm. I felt sick and in enormous pain. Both were dismissed — until I vomited everywhere. And lost control of my bowels. This would happen several more times over the coming hours. I felt utterly ashamed. Again, it’s common — but I hadn’t been told.

I continued to ask for pain relief and continued to receive none. An hour later, I was 7cm dilated — in full labour — and finally received some paracetamol. There was no space on the labour ward. In just another half an hour, I was fully dilated and ready for the baby to come out. No one seemed to know what to do. The midwives were panicking. And that made me scared. This was my first baby. I didn’t know what to expect. We were rushed to the ward. Already, nothing had gone the way I wanted, or the way it had been talked about at National Childbirth Trust (NCT) classes. Eventually, I was given gas and air to ease the pain. But only for about 20 minutes. Apparently it was “distracting” me too much and I needed to push.

Two hours later there was still no baby and I was in agony. A doctor arrived, took a brief look and said cheerily, “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to get that baby out.” And then he left. My maternity notes state, “PLAN: continue pushing.” I have no idea what this refers to — like so many of my notes. There was no plan. If there was, it wasn’t one I had agreed to. Finally, after another hour the decision was made that the doctor would use a ventouse — a suction cup that sits on your baby’s head — to help deliver my baby. Apparently I consented to this, but I have no recollection of doing so. And I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know what was being asked of me. My doctor didn’t use the word ventouse. He used “Kiwi”, which is a type of ventouse. At the time, I didn’t know what either were.

I remember screaming in pain and then my daughter finally being born. She was placed on my chest for less than a minute. I was examined, told I had a fourth-degree tear that must be repaired and that I needed to sign a consent form for surgery straight away. “Look at the state of her,” my usually mild-mannered husband said. “How can she possibly sign a form?” I couldn’t. The writing on that form is barely legible, but they would not proceed without it.

I had no idea what had happened. I lay in an operating theatre in pain, silent tears rolling down my face. I was frightened. The anaesthetist was amazing and stayed with me while I was repaired. I am so grateful for that, at least. But I also feel guilty about it. It was half past three on a Saturday morning and she was the only anaesthetist on duty at the London hospital. Other women may well not have received the pain relief they needed because of me. “Will I be able to have any more children?” I asked as I stared at the ceiling.

After surgery I was moved to the high dependency unit (HDU) and reunited with my daughter. I finally held and fed her for the first time. That morning is a blur. My notes tell me we stayed in the HDU for five hours before being moved to a ward. It was there that I attempted to understand what had happened to me. I was in pain, barely able to move and soaked in blood. I asked various midwives to explain what had gone on. They repeated that I’d had a fourth-degree tear, but I didn’t know what that meant. One line, in scribbled handwriting, stands out when I look at my notes: “We don’t have any written info about fourth-degree tears.”

Eventually, a midwife appeared with some information they’d printed off after googling it. As I read it, I sobbed. I was 35 years old and thought my life was over; that I would be incontinent. And still no doctor came to explain. The medic who’d delivered my daughter was eventually marched to my bedside more than 48 hours later.

I am perhaps unusual in that I’ve always wanted children. We had done what many middle-class suburban couples did at that time and attended NCT classes. The underlying message of these was: try to avoid a caesarean section at all costs. “Natural” births were best, and even better just to breathe through it. No need for pain relief. I remember in our penultimate class bringing up the subject of tearing during labour. I had seen a TV feature on it that week and it struck me as important. “If most of us are going to tear to some degree, it would be really helpful to talk about that,” I remember saying. “It would be good to know how best to care for ourselves afterwards, that kind of thing.” The answer was no, there was no need. Instead, we proceeded to get on all fours and “moo” like cows and then practise putting nappies on a doll.

Up to nine in ten first-time mothers who have a vaginal birth will experience some sort of tear. The least invasive kind involves only the skin from the vagina and the perineum — the area between a woman’s vagina and anus. These tears usually heal quickly and without any treatment. Second-degree tears involve the muscle of the perineum and require stitches. Third and fourth-degree tears are the most serious. These involve not just tearing of the skin and muscle of the perineum but the muscle of the anus. In fourth-degree tears, the injury can extend into the lining of the bowel. These deeper tears need proper surgical repair under anaesthetic.

I don’t really have any happy memories of the first few days or weeks after we left the hospital. I was completely in love with my baby, but I felt shellshocked. I couldn’t process what had happened and there was no one who offered to help me. A different midwife was sent to our house every couple of days to weigh our daughter. I had no milk the first few days and she had lost a fair bit of weight. Even when my milk came in, I found breastfeeding painful and difficult, in large part because it hurt so much to sit down.

I cried quietly every day for several months. Often it would come completely out of nowhere. I’d be talking or watching television and I would just start to cry. Several midwives wrote in my notes in those early weeks the same phrase: “Mum is anxious.” I don’t think I was. I was traumatised. Several weeks later, I was told that I was “lucky” by the midwife examining my stitches. Apparently the doctors had done a “wonderful” job at repairing me and it looked “beautiful”. I now know that I was fortunate to be repaired properly and immediately after the birth. But the last thing I felt — then or now — was lucky.

After several months I desperately needed to have some control over my life again. I had never felt so helpless, lost and infantilised. But my overarching feeling was anger. I wrote to the chief executive and chair of the hospital to complain and was invited in for a debrief. The head of midwifery was lovely, apologised and followed through on her promise to try to prevent other women facing the appalling lack of communication I had. The hospital now has a specialist perineal health clinic too.

But the attitude of the consultant obstetrician whom I met with my husband floored us both. It was about six months after the birth, but I was still under the care of a consultant urogynaecologist. (I subsequently had two further operations: the first 14 months after giving birth to remove an undissolved stitch that was causing pain but hadn’t been spotted, and another six months after that.) My urogynaecologist had told me not even to consider giving birth vaginally again. The risk was too great, he explained. If I tore again, there was a 30 per cent chance I couldn’t be repaired and I’d be incontinent. The obstetrician said the opposite — don’t rule it out! I saw red. “How dare you,” I growled. I remember saying that he would never be so cavalier about a man’s body.

Every year, about 25,000 women who give birth — approximately 4 per cent — are so distressed that they meet the diagnostic criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder. That makes birth one of the biggest causes of PTSD in the UK according to the Birth Trauma Association charity – probably coming second only to sexual abuse and rape. Hundreds of thousands more women are traumatised. This is a major health crisis. And yet it is barely discussed.

“Birth trauma is a broad term, but generally it’s overwhelming distress that leads to a detrimental impact on well-being,” explains Susan Ayers, professor of maternal and child health at City University in London. Estimates “range massively”, she says, but having conducted research into birth trauma for almost 30 years, Ayers puts it at about a third. “If you ask women whether they thought they or their baby was going to die or be severely injured, then it’s around 19-20 [per cent] in the UK. But if people just ask women, ‘Was your birth traumatic?’ some of those estimates are up to 50 per cent.”

“I’M BEATRICE’S MUM,” EMILY SAID, introducing herself to a committee of MPs in March. “Beatrice died during labour at full term in May 2022.” Emily is one of a number of brave women who have shared their traumatic birth stories with the all-party parliamentary group (APPG) on birth trauma, during the first parliamentary inquiry into this issue.

“As soon as my labour started,” Emily explained, “I knew it wasn’t right, wasn’t normal.” The details are harrowing: a series of obvious but missed red flags and an attitude from medical professionals that can only be described as cruel. The midwife who shrugged her shoulders when Emily’s waters were meconium-stained; the consultant obstetrician who laughed at the “slimy” feel of that meconium while her hand was still inside Emily.

“The ultrasound scanning machine was brought in and showed that Beatrice’s heartbeat had stopped,” she explained. “At that point I begged, pleaded like I’ve never pleaded for anything in my life for a caesarean, and that consultant obstetrician refused. She said no. And she left.”

“It’s destroyed my life,” Emily says now. “I’m not the person I was before.”

This inquiry has been led by the APPG’s co-chairs, the Conservative MP Theo Clarke and Labour’s Rosie Duffield. They received more than 1,200 written submissions after asking women to share their experiences; that number doubles if you count the letters and emails they’ve been sent informally.

“The thing that’s really struck me is there seems to be a taboo around talking about the risk of childbirth,” Clarke tells me when I sit down with both women in Westminster. There shouldn’t be, she adds. “Something we’ve heard from a number of the mothers coming to speak to us is that there’s such a focus on the baby post-delivery, they almost forget there’s a second patient in the room, and that’s the mother.”

“I was constantly told by GPs that I had nothing wrong with me,” one mother, Sarah, told the MPs. She experienced a major tear that doctors and midwives failed to diagnose. “I was discharged two days later with [an] untreated tear, which very quickly led to enormous amounts of pain, incontinence, faecal incontinence and thinking I was going mad.”

“It’s very painful,” explained Jenny, who also experienced a serious tear that was left untreated, “but the long-term consequences of an unrepaired tear are that I had to give up my job. I’ve suffered PTSD, anxiety, depression. My activities are restricted. My life is impacted in that I have to meticulously plan my day around toilets.”

Another mother, Neera, lost three litres of blood and required more than ten hours of life-saving emergency surgery the day her daughter was born. The haemorrhage had not been picked up by staff. She said she is fortunate to have had the “means and support” to access mental healthcare over four and a half years of her five-year-old’s life. “I have personally spent over £6,000 and received more than 50 hours of mental health support,” she told parliament.

The women who have spoken to politicians as part of the inquiry had different medical experiences. But there were obvious similarities. Their concerns and their pain were dismissed. They were not treated with respect or, in some cases, like human beings. They felt helpless, angry and scared. “Nobody really cares about women,” says Kim Thomas, CEO of the Birth Trauma Association. “What we tend to find with most of these stories is there’s failure after failure after failure. Lots of things go physically wrong… and that continues afterwards in the postnatal period with really poor care.” Almost all women seeking out the charity say their experience was made much worse by the way they were treated during labour. “The number of stories we hear of women being shouted at by midwives or laughed at by midwives is quite extraordinary.”

Birth doesn’t have to be this way. And it isn’t for many women. But women, in England in particular, could — and should — be having better experiences than they are.

Let’s start with serious tears. The number one risk factor is being a first-time mum. There’s nothing much that can be done about that. But the next is having an instrumental vaginal delivery — and in particular one that uses forceps. “Data indicates that we use more forceps than other parts of Europe,” says Dr Ranee Thakar, president of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists (RCOG). While rates in several European countries hover at around 0 per cent, a 2023 study of assisted births in 13 high-income countries found England used forceps in a higher proportion of births — about 11 per cent — than any other.

There are cases where forceps must be used. When babies are premature, suction would cause too much damage to the head. But that’s doesn’t explain the discrepancy. “It’s education,” Thakar explains. “We should be trained to do both [forceps and ventouse], so that we provide the best care to women and use the right instrument for the right baby and the right mother.”

The risk of a severe tear when forceps are used is at least twice as high as with ventouse: 8-12 per cent compared with 4 per cent. Women should be told this. The recent parliamentary inquiry heard other suggestions that might explain why forceps use in England is so high. The consultant gynaecologist and obstetrician Dr Nitish Raut explained that when poor outcomes of childbirth become part of litigation, the question, “Why were forceps not applied earlier?” will be asked. Although they can cause injury to mothers, forceps are the most effective instrument for getting a baby out. If a doctor tries and fails to deliver a baby with the less invasive ventouse first, a record will be made at the hospital trust. It was suggested by others that this might also be pushing some doctors straight to forceps use even when they might not be necessary.

“Training is a really key part of everything here,” Posy Bidwell, deputy head of midwifery at South Warwickshire Foundation Trust, told MPs. “If we can train people, we can prevent these injuries happening. Many midwifery students wouldn’t know the impact that these injuries are having on women.”

Newly qualified midwives did not know enough about perineal damage, and yet they’re providing one-to-one care to women. Current training did not seem to see it as a priority: while several aspects of maternity care are mandatory each year, suturing and perineal protection are not.

Neither doctors nor midwives appear to be taught how to routinely examine women after they have given birth either. Where this was once part of mandatory medical training, doctors are no longer encouraged to do it, Raut explained.

England is short of as many as 2,500 midwives, the Royal College of Midwives (RCM) estimates, although people are wanting to train and join the profession. Donna Ockenden, who is reviewing maternity services at Nottingham and who previously did so at Shrewsbury and Telford Hospitals NHS Trust, cautions against being too optimistic, however. The focus needs to be on retention. “Two midwives don’t equal two midwives,” she told parliament, “of we are losing midwives with 20, 30, 35 years’ experience… and they’re then being replaced by a more junior workforce, who are not being supported in those early days of their career.”

In the past decade and a half, the UK has seen several NHS maternity scandals — in Morecambe Bay, Shrewsbury and Telford, and East Kent. In all these cases, some of the poor care provided to mothers and their babies was because of a push towards “normal” or “natural” birth and a desire to keep caesarean section rates low. The RCM ended its campaign for “normal births” in 2017, but its legacy persists. Some NHS trusts still talk about them today. A culture of cover-ups and a lack of care remains in others. Just last month, the Care Quality Commission found that staff at Great Western Hospital in Swindon had been downgrading third and fourth-degree tears, “which meant they were not investigated as thoroughly as they should” have been. The c-section target was only officially dropped in 2022. Does RCOG now accept that it was a mistake? “It’s difficult for me to say years later whether it was a mistake or not,” Thakar tells me. “I think there was a general trend at the time to put figures to caesarean section rates. But now we know that, we don’t do that.” It was now right that women were offered a choice; she insists she hasn’t seen an attitude against caesareans more recently.

Aside from any physical and psychological impact, traumatic births are costing the country billions. According to figures from NHS Resolution, the arm of the Department of Health and Social Care that handles litigation, 62 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm in 2022-23 (£6.6 billion) related to maternity. Of the £2.6 billion spent on clinical negligence payments that year, £1.1 billion (41 per cent) related to maternity. (As the fact-checking service Full Fact explains, the cost of harm differs from the amount actually paid out in compensation: the former includes an estimate of claims expected in the future arising from incidents in that financial year.) The year before, maternity services accounted for 60 per cent of the total clinical negligence cost of harm (£13.6 billion). NHS England spends about £3 billion a year on maternity and neonatal services.

There is such a long way to go. The government is well behind on its long-term target of halving the rates of stillbirth and neonatal mortality by 2025; the death of mothers within 42 days of the end of pregnancy is at its highest rate in almost 20 years. And while only a handful of trusts have been subject to official investigations, there are signs that poor care is happening across the country. Only half of maternity units in England are rated good or outstanding; one in ten is inadequate. That is a damning indictment of the way so many women are cared for.

One crucial area of improvement does not cost money at all. It requires a shift in attitude to one where women are treated with respect, listened to and allowed to make informed decisions about their bodies and babies.

When I first heard of parliament’s inquiry into birth trauma, it was never my intention to share my experience. Doing so has been upsetting and uncomfortable. But as I sat listening to other women talk about how giving birth had affected them so profoundly, it felt dishonest to stay quiet. Difficult births are not something we should feel ashamed of — much as I know many women will have been, myself included.

[ghostymarni]

didn’t want to grief post on this thread, so just venting here for my own piece of mind

digital holonet entry 112824 0714hours

I’ve been on and off coping as grief does, but after seeing that post about not thinking too long about crosshair just reminded me how much I’ve kinda been avoiding drawing him.

I know I recently had a similar conversation with Lupe about this. He will always be favorite overall, but my vision for cross has artistically changed so many times because I think deep down it’s a grief truth for me that I’m struggling with. I have so many crosshair drawings I never posted because they’re just SAD. I didn’t want to turn this to a depression blog so I refrained from posting or deleted those from here.

My husband passed this summer more suddenly than I’d like to think about. He was watching season 3 without me because I was too busy with work at the time. But rewatching it after he passed had me instant hone in on crosshair + connecting the loss of my husband with the loss of tech; which gave a different part in my grief acceptance + a secondary obsession with the brilliant minded clone. It’s a reminder to hold onto everything we created and did, + to always keep thinking about him.

Crosshair returning with his brothers + not having tech there feels twice as suffering knowing what their last interaction was like. And an even deeper personal meaning knowing I see my husband in everything. In our life around us, in how I choose things, how I respond to things. (Which we see + are reminded of that tech is apart of everyone he ever met)

Self regret that we didn’t have time to have a proper last moment. It just ended. Just because you choose to accept they knew you loved them, + vise versa, doesn’t make it easier than you’ll never have them around anymore.

Which with grief, digs the vibro-blade a little deeper because you never know when your last interaction with someone is.

watching how each of them take the notion of what tech would do, picking up where he would take over. I would imagine it would catch crosshair off guard, hearing tinkering to certain data pad beeps, only to look up + see Echo fixing something, or Omega typing away. Because I literally do this with sounds I associate with my late husband.

That feeling never goes away for a loved one. His brother, his batch twin. But omega is a huge part of that healing. And she has been a huge part in mine connecting her with my kid who isn’t giving up on me + needs me. Simple intended motions go such a long way. And the scene were they’re meditating hits hard for me.

Even more so when I’m constantly shaking out my own hand to keep it under control. It’s never easy when it hits, but every scene of cross trying to get his tremors under control, is something I do more often than I care to admit. I just have to keep going.

Not seeing tech with omega, is like realizing I won’t ever see my husband with our son growing up. He’s young, + it feels more unfair. And that hurts. Crosshair is such a dynamic clone + his guilt + hurt reaches out to many people in so many different ways. Which is why I can’t think too long about him either, but he will always be my favorite overall because I see him as me.

From grief, trauma, hand tremors, loss. (if I’m being honest, I’m pretty decent at shooting actual long range rifles) there’s so much to crosshair I personally relate to, and not just his attitude haha!

Crosshair didn’t see his brother fall, but he watched another brother die in his place. An older brother that taught him a lesson he didn’t realize he needed to know until it was too late. We confirmed that from his retaliation of shooting an imperial officer, + when they returned to the deserted base; he instantly moves to set up the memorial buckets as Mayday did. A reminder of the fallen, a reminder that they existed + lived.

A lesson I have to remind myself everyday.

So what I guess I’m also trying to convey, while I see myself as crosshair, despite the grief, the false fight some days, I’ve never felt so alone than having my soulmate gone. Going from a life of fun, banter, + life for granted, to solitude and what feels like isolation.

the clone community really gave me a second chance. At me. At reconnecting with myself, my art, my humor + wit. The friendships I’ve made + are continue to make really are giving me a new fight and a new reason to just keep going.

I never share for sympathy, I don’t want to be put in a “do not interact zone”. That’s the opposite of what I need or want. I just wear my heart on my sleeve + find comfort in just being honest about struggles + how we strive to move on.

as our boy hardcase (+ echo) quote, what I try to embrace:

“LIVE TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY”

[lostonmyroad]

Moments That I Want Tattooed On My Forehead From S-Classes That I Raised Chapters 50-70

As always, BEWARE OF SPOILERS!!! Future chapters may be referenced!!!

The insane amount of lore dropped in these chapters wow

Chapters 50-60

help its genuinely still so funny to see yoojin in the early chapters going: “all i have to do is complete this one (1) task and then i can live like a slacker” before he gives up (cries in cale henituse)

everyone referring to yoojin as “monster daddy” and asking him to raise their children is amazing. no notes 

ARRIVAL OF THE KING SUNG HYUNJAE!!! He's a bastard he's amazing he's always on my mind

"...no matter how amazing Sung Hyunjae might be, he wouldn't be able to notice it easily. He wouldn't press his nose against my body and smell me, like my idiot brother had, would he" um. ok??? yoojin's completely normal though process

sung hyunjae essentially telling yoojin “aren’t you tired of being nice? don’t you want to go apeshit” within 5 minutes of their first real conversation

i forgot shj gives him a pair of earrings!! (and a bone for Peace)

yoojin’s disguise to get to the f rank dungeon being a fucking sun protection hat…it’s giving marvel baseball cap and sunglasses…and he has this because he used to stage one man protests??? sir what were you protesting against

oh that’s right the dungeons will appear at a faster rate because “time was only reversed for yoojin” oops

Chirpie makes its debut!!

yoojin trying to hide where he got chirpie from “i found it in the hallway”. king if yoohyun wasn’t suspicious of you already that would do it

yoohyun yeeting Peace and mama yoojin scolding him

chef myungwoo :))

bleh bug dungeon. i’m with you yoojin that was disgusting

yoojin not wanting to use Last Repayment :((

Riette makes an entrance! do you think riette demonstrated girl power when she abused her brother until he became an s rank

yoojin thinking about how he had raised yoohyun and was so happy about sending him to college…saving money for his tuition…and just losing interest in riette :((

yoojin saves bak hayool!!

this is where we see peak yoojin mafia behavior. unhinged. but justified revenge?? this is why i don’t understand fan interpretations where he’s like a wallflower like this man has murdered multiple people quite violently 

chapter 60 is just so much. like. i cant even describe. yoojin you need so much therapy

the way he sees people’s last memories before they die ugh…

yoojin playing 3D chess while everyone else is playing checkers fr

him calling his friend who doesn’t remember him bc of the regression and telling them to live a happy life always gets me ufffff i wish we got to meet this character

Chapters 60-70

Yoojin and the Awakening center — a tragedy in the making. Pre-regression trauma galore

The Association rears its ugly head!!! Yoojin has an authority figure problem (but it’s completely justified)

love how chill Yoojin is about Chirpie. random F rank monster that’s cute as hell that’s eating Peace's weight in magic stones and was born from an error in the system??? ehh no big deal it’s my pet now and i’ll kill for it

love the absolutely random detail about seok hayan’s pineapple earrings. thank you geunseo you know what the people want

yoojin funding public research!! hero of the people and my heart

yerim refusing to praise yoohyun and myeongwoo to their faces hahahaha. all of them petty as hell

MYUNGWOO GETS HIS SS RANK SKILL BABYYYY

yoojin still trying to protect myungwoo i love them

yoojin: *is keeping secrets from yoohyun and putting himself in danger*

also yoojin: why is yoohyun being cold with me

everyone’s giving yoojin flowers today lmfao

sung hyunjae you’re everything to me. you’re so bizzare. the bouquet??? showing up in a 2-seater car?? bullying seok simyeong??

Shj reminding Yoojin to wear his seatbelt because he's an F rank HDJEKXIDKD

oh yoojin. “who’d want to place themselves through hardships on purpose” like SIR are u that un self aware

yerim listening to this bullshit, eyes falling out of her head: i’m literally going to crazy murder you with yoohyun

the dungeon ppl have the actual worst timing. yoohyun is going to McFreaking lose it

yoojin and yoohyun finally work things out we love to see it :))

chapter 65 starts the explanation of the 50 s ranks requirement!!! water droplet is going through it

so much is just casually dropped in this chapter like. yoohyun is a born s rank! the dungeon ppl are manually inputting things for yoojin! the world might end! anyways!

yoojin having such strong mom energy that the dungeon people forgot he was a dude

one of the moments ever when yoohyun and Peace burn down the dungeon in worry and yoojin’s just there like. ah. shit. my bad i fucked up there a little

grown up Peace my beloved

chapter 67 yoohyun my beloved. you are so crazy. “hold still while i chop off your arm and fake your dear so i can keep you safe” 

the han brothers finally having a real conversation. yoojin i love you but you really needed to do this sooner

PEACE STAYING SMALL JUST SO YOOJIN CAN PICK HIM UP UWAHHHH MY HEART

Newcomer joins the battle

Chirpie turnin on the TV by itself and yoojin praising it like every proud parent ever

more monsters!!!

unicorns (white + black bc yoojin is terrible at naming) + gryphon (named Blue)

yoojin’s training method of using himself as a human chew toy is traumatizing for everyone around him.

same hyuna i would also be taking 10939392 photos

Peace and Blue WWE match. flex on em Peace

nobody:

yoojin: wow myeongwoo is hot now

BLUE LEARNING HOW TO OPEN THE FRIDGE

i love the monster shenanigans

[scienter]

WIND AND TRUTH CHAPTER 31

Epigraph: “So think, my dear reader. As a soldier retreats from a battle he cannot win. As a woman rejects a home that shows her only violence. As a family finds hope in walking away from dying fields during a season of too much rain.” – From The Way of Kings, Fourth parable

🤔 So, the implication is that Nohadon and/or Tanavast walked away from power?

Both he and Breteh were former bridgemen from Bridge Thirteen, the group that had become Teft’s squires. She thought that was why they wore red glyphwards on their arms—something about a pact relating to Moash and vengeance.

A lot of people are lining up to kill Moash. FAFO

“Well, that’s a storming big secret,” Rlain said to a very pronounced rhythm, which Radiant couldn’t place. Renarin just met her eyes, then nodded. Damnation. He understood. She now felt infinitely more guilty for finding him weird when they first met.

Glad to see Shallan finally acknowledge this. I kept cringing during my re-read whenever Shallan was impatient with Renarin or thought he was weird.

“And yet,” Rlain said, “every single member of Bridge Four now has an honorspren—except me. Curious, how people’s decisions are an individual matter when they’re confronted about them—but those decisions form blatant patterns.” They did, many of them vanishing and the others moving to the very top of the corridor. Gav relaxed. The spren that had tormented him in the Kholinar palace had been of a completely different variety, but that didn’t matter in the face of trauma.

Gav dealing with his trauma must be a subplot in the back half of Stormlight considering how much attention Brandon is giving it in this book.

“All things are,” she said. “Whether it’s the cup you drink from, the home you live in, or the air you breathe. All of it is part of this world given us by the Almighty, and everything in this world is alive. It is one of the ways we know God loves us.” And surely He did. Even if the person who had held the power was dead, that was merely an avatar, a Vessel—not God. It was that Vessel Dalinar hoped to replace. If he did, would he then return to conventional belief as she hoped? His new ways, new teachings, weren’t strictly blasphemous, but things about them did make her uncomfortable.

Huh. Though it makes sense, I never considered that Dalinar’s heretical beliefs would bother Navani. She still burns prayers in case someone is listening although she knows Honor is dead. Still, she hopes that Dalinar will regain faith in God.

Dalinar’s plan to Ascend to Honor must be surreal to her.

“Rock from Ashyn,” Wit said lightly. “Like those carried by your ancestors to this world during their migration. They were fragments of a holy site on your homeworld, but stones themselves took on a kind of mystical lore by association. Some seven thousand years later, everyone in Shinovar worships rocks, and has no idea why.”

Oh, that’s why the Shin consider stone holy. It’s a holdover from Ashyn. That makes sense. I wondered if the stone on Roshar was sentient like The Wind and that’s why they worshipped it or if it was an ancient religious myth.

Okay since we got the stone settled; can we get some answers about The Wind?

“You were there?” Again Wit shrugged. “Look, I can’t be expected to tell you everything that has happened in the last ten thousand years, all right? Yes, I was there. Can we focus on the experiment?”

Think about all the important shit Hoid knows about from first-hand experience but hasn’t bothered telling anyone. He’s such a little shit sometimes. lol

Although in his defense he probably doesn’t know which important events are worth disclosing.

“Specifically,” Wit said, “you will eventually need to be able to find the history I missed in order to determine what led to Honor’s demise, and see if you can find why the power refuses Vessels now."

Wait, what? The Stormfather said Dalinar couldn't take up the power, but I didn't interpret that as Honor will refuse ALL vessels. 🤨

So why does Hoid think the shard is refusing all potential vessels? 🤔

 “I warned you of the danger. There are few paths in this universe I fear to walk. This is one of them.”

Ominous words.

There was so much to be studied about the symbiosis between spren and human. Someday when all this was done, that would be her project. Jasnah thought her a whimsical artist, and that was part of her. But so was the scientist. She dreamed of creating a grand illustrated tome explaining the intricate details of the bond. Shallan’s ultimate triumph in proving that art and science were actually one.

This is an aspect of Shallan’s character I want to explore more. She’s a naturalist. I feel like that’s been pushed aside for the spy plots. I’d like to get back to the scholarly roots of her character.

…and he kept going, despite knowing he was trapped in a Shallan flood. Because if he turned back, then Rlain probably would too, which would mean leaving Shallan completely without access to common sense.

😂 Renarin, I love you.

Otherwise, the room was empty… Wait. What were those two souls over at the side, in the walls?

. . . Lift?

“Good,” Rlain said. “That gives us something to prepare for.” He knelt beside the wall. “These two souls… they seem to be hiding in an air duct. And what is that green spot…” “Mmm…” Pattern said. “Cultivationspren. That is Lift.”

Called it. 😊

CHAPTER 32

Epigraph: “As a king leaves a people with the gift of his absence, so that they may grow and solve their own problems, without his hand to always guide them.” – From The Way of Kings, fourth parable

That's Cultivation and Sazed's philosophy of Godhood, which is diametrically opposed to Taravangian's philosphy.

Seriously, though – are Nohadon and Tanavast the same person? Is that theory correct?

“Mraize,” Shallan said, suddenly filled with dread. “Mraize, what are you doing?” “Have you ever seen a perpendicularity collapse on itself, little knife?” he asked. “Mraize…” “I haven’t either,” he said. “But it’s reportedly spectacular.” He threw the dagger.

Oh, no. 😬

Images began to form around him from swirling light. Visions of places, people—ephemeral, winking away in seconds. The tones thrummed through him. It was working. He looked at Navani, grinning. Then, behind them, something snapped. Their Connection to the Physical Realm vanished, and something came rushing toward them: power, wind, and screams.

Oh, shit.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I found it. The worst Katara take.

https://www.tumblr.com/illycanary/748146862907867136/kataras-entire-arc-was-about-her-becoming-someone?source=share

Her entire arc was about becoming someone who could lead the Fire Nation!? The nation that GENOCIDED her people!?

Please… please I need to hear your take on this. It hurts my soul. Give me peace.

Zutarians: It's so disgusting how Kataang completely reduces Katara to just "The Avatar's girl."

Also zutarians: Katara's entire arc, trauma and struggles are not actually about herself, but about her Totally Real romance with Zuko and how she'll be great for his nation.

And she used to hate said nation because it was an elusive concept to project her insecurities onto. It was totally not because said nation had in place a socio-political AND military system that was hostile to her, her loved ones, and her culture by design.

It wasn't Zuko and the Fire Nation that had to understand that everyone else in the world was as human as they were, oh no. It was actually Katara and the rest of the world that had to understand that the Fire Nation ain't as bad as they thought - even though they WERE doing all the horrible things they thought they were doing, and ruining their lives by taking away everything and everyone they loved.

#UnhingedZutariansShutTheFuckUpChallenge

Also, can the fandom as a whole stop it with the bullshit "Characters like Jet and Hama existed to teach Katara and Sokka not to be racist against the Fire Nation"?

They were NEVER okay with killing, or even mistreating, someone just because they happened to be born in the Fire Nation or were under their control. Everyone they hated had done something to earn said hate: killed someone they loved, attacked their tribe, chased them around the world, held people prisoner and forced them into slave labor, etc.

You might think it was wrong of Katara and Sokka to do something like try to convince Aang to leave Zuko to die in the North Pole (and the show was very clearly saying that was the case) but you cannot act like that was based on some unearned hostility to anyone vaguely associated with a nation they "didn't understand" and not on, like Sokka said, not giving the guy that was trying to kill them a chance to try again and maybe succeed - hell, Katara gave Zuko a chance in Ba Sing Se, and look what fucking happened. Her best friend died right in front of her because Zuko jsut had to go help Azula take control of the city, and then he sent an assassin after them.

No one is fully good or evil - but people CHOOSE to do bad things, even if they have sympathetic reasons, and a political system CAN be inherently cruel, unfair and EVIL. And the Fire Nation under Sozin, Azulon and Ozai's rule very much was. And since Zuko went out of his way to keep that political system in place, he was doing something evil, and thus the people that were being victimized by him had every right to hate his guts for it.

Once again, let's hear it from Zuko himself:

"Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the war was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world. What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it! We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness."

The Fire Nation screwed up. Zuko screwed up. They need to get their shit together (and Zuko did), and the responsibility to do so is on THEM, not on the people that are quite literally fighting for their lives because the Fire Nation gave them no choice.

It's not Katara's job to make Zuko, and an entire country, see reason. And her arc was about HER journey, HER struggles, HER accomplishments, HER life, HER culture, and HER loved ones - just because Zuko would eventually be part of the last category, that doesn't mean that it secretly all about him the whole time.

And Zuko knows all this. That's why his arc, and his friendship with Katara, works. The show already gave you the perfect scenario to turn that friendship into a romance in fanfics and headcanons, you don't need to pretend the Fire Nation wasn't the obvious bad guy in the war THEY chose to start.

You can respect the beautiful arcs both Katara and Zuko went through, or you can make excuses for the Fire Nation's choice to commit genocide by saying "Well, EVERYONE had something to learn from it." You cannot possibly do both, because their arcs are all about showing this "both sides" thing is NOT TRUE.

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Redrew the Korey ref because I have no self control

The absolute gal she is.

Little symbolism and poem made by my dearest nerd of a brother for the apple tree.

The Apple Tree of Toxicity

In a family filled with pain and strife,

An apple tree stood tall, a symbol of life,

Its branches reached out, so filled with grace,

Promising protection and a place,

But the fruits of this tree, oh so sweet,

Hid a bitter truth, hidden beneath,

They promised knowledge and a sense of power,

But only brought emptiness and devower,

For the taste of the fruit was oh so sour,

It left a feeling of nothingness in its wake,

As though the apples were poisoned,

Leaving a hollow feeling, a wound that cannot be healed,

And yet we still reach out, hungry for more,

Searching for answers to what lies in store,

For we cannot seem to let go,

Of the knowledge that the tree has to show.

But oh, how we wish to let go,

Of the toxicity that's brought us woe,

For we cannot escape the past,

And it leaves us with a feeling of emptiness at last.

SYMBOLISM LETS GOOOOOOOO—

In the story of Genesis, the forbidden fruit that Eve consumes is often interpreted as a figurative apple. Apples are associated with knowledge and wisdom, which can be a double-edged sword when it comes to toxic families.

On one hand, the pursuit of knowledge can help you see the truth about your family dynamics, which can lead to self-discovery and a sense of peace. On the other hand, the pursuit of knowledge can also make you realize the emptiness that can result from growing up in a toxic environment.

The apple tree, which bears the fruit of knowledge, can be seen as a symbol for families that are rooted in toxicity. The tree can provide a sense of stability and belonging, but it can also be a source of pain and trauma.

In such families, it is not uncommon for children to feel a sense of emptiness, as they struggle to make sense of their experiences and find their place in the world. The fruit of the toxic family "apple tree" can leave them feeling hollow, as they come to terms with the challenges of living in a family that is not emotionally supportive.

Ultimately, the experience of growing up in a toxic family is a journey of self-discovery and healing, much like the pursuit of knowledge from the forbidden fruit. Both can lead to a sense of emptiness, but also offer the potential for growth and healing.

Credit to my brother Rani, you're an absolute nerd, but thanks 👍

[beifong-brainrot]

The Avatar State as a panic attack

The Avatar state has always been a very interesting part of Avatar lore to me. Throughout B1, we don't exactly get a lot of information about it, but at the very beginning of B2 Roku finally shows up and gives us a tutorial (lil late buddy but thanks lol).

Roku: [Cuts to Roku.] The Avatar State is a defense mechanism, designed to empower you with the skills and knowledge of all the past Avatars.

I always wondered about the stress placed on the Avatar State being a defense mechanism, not a weapon, during this episode.I always enjoyed this distinction, because it would be SO easy to just call the Avatar State a weapon/a superpower pertaining to offence.

But no, it takes Aang a very long time to harness the Avatar State, and before he does, it comes out only in moments of huge distress.

Near death experiences are the most common reason for Aang to go into the Avatar state. It makes sense, really, being close to death is probably when you need a superpowered defence mechanism the most.

However, there are times when Aang isn't in immediate danger and still enters the Avatar state. The most notable moments are the three examples I pointed out in this post.

Now these three examples are very interesting, because while Aang is not in the direct line of harm, he still goes in to the Avatar state. But the Avatar state is supposed to be a defence mechanism, so what gives?

Well, the moments Aang goes into an the Avatar State, he is still in super high stress situations. I mean, realising everyone you love has been brutally slaughtered and you're the last of your kind is as high stress as it gets, isn't it?

This isn't exactly dissimilar to how our real life regular human bodies work as well.

When we are in danger, we go into fight or flight mode, our body is flooded with different chemicals, like adrenaline or cortisol. This is usually a good thing, our breathing and heartbeat quickening, our blood moves to our large muscles, in order to prepare for, well, fight or flight.

But sometimes, this response activates in situation where we're not actually in danger. This is a crucial part of panic attacks. Now, there are a lot of different reasons for panic attacks, but they can happen due to a huge amount of stress, after a death of a loved one and experiencing strong emotions. You can see how this relates back to Aang. Panic attacks can also go hand in hand with trauma, which Aang has an abundance of.

Now, it is important to note that panic attack doesn't always equal hyperventilating and rocking back and forth in a corner. I for one, become extremely irritable during one, and will even smack people if they come too close because shockingly I don't like people touching me when I'm in "I'm in Danger" mode.

We don't get a full explanation of what causes the Avatar State to trigger, but it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that if Aang's subconscious is fearing for its life, the Avatar State does trigger. So if Aang is having a panic attack, his body going through the same motions as if he were in danger, why wouldn't the Avatar state activate?

This isn't to say that the anger that is primarily associated with Aang entering the Avatar state out of emotion is cancelled out by this theory. Aang's anger and him having a panic attack can work in tandem, since we often see him become upset or startled by violence, along with going through extreme guilt due to it.

This would also explain why Korra doesn't shift into the Avatar state under heightened emotions. If she doesn't have panic attacks like Aang, she is more lucid in her Avatar state. That and her having more control over it in general.

Anyway, tune in next time for my incoherent ramblings. Thanks for listening lol. I need to go to sleep

I also see a lot of similarities between the Avatar State and dissociation and dissociative disorders like DID. But that's a converstion for another day.

[epersonae]

Do you think you could fall in love again?

On the one hand, this is a wildly personal question, anon, and from the reaction of my knitting group, it would be totally appropriate for me to just abandon this in the depths of my unanswered asks.

On the other hand, if it is possible to know one thing about me as a person, just from my blog, it’s that I was deeply madly in love, and that that person died. And also: you have in fact activated my trap card.

Because I thought about this, almost as soon as they died, and not in a way where I was ready to fall in love immediately, but I think I said to @faintvox maybe the next day: can you be polyamorous with a ghost?

Because when I got divorced from my first spouse, I thought I wouldn’t find love for a long time. I expected to be single for years, because I had so much trauma from that, because I had loved him and it had broken me, because I thought it would be too hard to start over after more than 20 years with someone else.

And when I told Ryn that, after we started dating, they laughed at me. “There is no way you were going to be single for five years,” they said, which how long I said I’d expected. (For the record: I left my ex in August 2018; Ryn and I started dating in October 2019.)

Because Ryn and I were in a polyamorous relationship when we started out, and we were just trying to figure out how we wanted to do that again, more deliberately, and instead cancer-wedding-death. Our wedding vows deliberately included that space in our lives, in a way where it also was about our friendships, and was also something that would not be totally obvious to a couple of my older relatives.

Because I realized, after they died, that we together had written me a way through it — the fic we wrote together, one of the central characters is a widower, and the guy who created him always said “Magnus never loves again,” and we said “Fuck that,” and we said (altho this is I think @nekosd43's formulation originally), “Magnus is made for love,” and we shipped him in stories set before his marriage and we shipped him in stories set after. And Magnus’s grief and love for Julia is woven through the love that we gave him in the stories we wrote with him and Taako and him and Lucretia, and the love and the grief are both important. (JFC I WROTE A PIECE ABOUT LUCRETIA ASKING HIM ABOUT A TATTOO HE GOT FOR JULIA.)

Because among many other things, for the benefit of all the broken hearts is in part about what it means to have love that isn’t The Love, what it means to find love in the aftermath of tragedy, to find love in places you didn’t expect.

Because people in my family live a really fucking long time, and the idea of living another 30, 40, 50 years without romantic love, without being in love, is kind of horrifying to me. (No offense to my aromantic pals, but could not be me.) Especially given that I am already of a mindset that it is possible to have romantic love for more than one person at a time — to say that I couldn’t have it again at all is just not realistic for who I am.

No one is ever going to have the exact place that Ryn did and does. No one will ever be them, no other relationship will be the one that we had from when they first messaged me in 2017 until I lay next to their corpse in a hospital bed in 2021. Even in death they are literally my safe space.

And yet.

So the scene in OFMD 1x10, where Stede asks Mary what love feels like. I have always associated that with Ryn, and with my own little montage, because that is what our love felt like. (There are so many things about s1 Ed and Stede that are ridiculously us.) If we’d been married a year later, I bet some of that would have been in our wedding ceremony.

And yet.

I haven’t posted about it on Tumblr, but there is a somebody, and I am quite in love with them, and one time last summer I was watching Our Flag Means Death, as you do. And I got to that scene, and my mind was doing the montage overlay thing with moments of Ryn…and also moments with this other person. And I knew that I loved them, that I was in love with them, but to have that connection happen? I burst into tears.

Because I had known intellectually, but I felt it in a different way, deeply and truly, the simultaneousness of that love, the way it overlaps, and neither makes the other less, and there was love, and there is love, and whatever happens next there will be love.

[ilynpilled]

These two characters are usually not in the same conversation because they are pretty isolated from each other’s stories, but I talked to one of my Dany mutuals about this and there is one thing in particular that I desperately want to see happen down the line. The duality of fire is such an integral part of this series: its function as a representation of passion, emancipation, and light along with destruction, corruption and death. I think it is supposed to speak to the multifaceted nature of power in general. Jaime’s relationship with fire (wildfire in specific, the most corrupted version of it) is pretty singular, especially among PoVs, because of his trauma. He associates it with Aerys, and then later Cersei. To him, it means destruction, corruption, and death. It represents the epitome of the abuse of power. So what I would find very poignant is the redefinition of it for him in particular during The Long Night.

I am very convinced Jaime will be present: George spending time on him training again as a competent fighter feels like something with a function beyond a LSH confrontation, the whole Oathkeeper and Widow’s Wail thing for JB, and trauma being packaged deliberately with TLN imagery: “In his dreams the dead came burning, gowned in swirling green flames. Jaime danced around them with a golden sword, but for every one he struck down two more arose to take his place.” Then the prophetic weirwood dream in general: “The shades dismounted from their ghostly horses. When they drew their longswords, it made not a sound. ” “They were armored all in snow, it seemed to him, and ribbons of mist swirled back from their shoulders. ”

His trauma is so focused on the fact that Dany’s father used something of such great power for something so deeply evil and destructive: “Jaime saw green flames reaching up into the sky higher than the tallest towers, as burning men screamed in the streets. I have dreamed this dream before.” For us to see the daughter of that man use it for the exact opposite, to repel death, through his eyes at some point would be one of the best ways to communicate and really drive home that duality that permeates this series regarding fire. It is not just fire that is being redefined, but power in general: who wields it and how.

Not to mention Jaime’s relationship with Rhaegar. Deep inside of Jaime’s mind Rhaegar was the “good king that never was”, something he still clings onto despite how much he represses the idealist romantic boy he used to be:

Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime's shoulder. "When this battle's done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but . . . well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return." Those were the last words Rhaegar Targaryen ever spoke to him.

On the morning after the battle, the crows had feasted on victors and vanquished alike, as once they had feasted on Rhaegar Targaryen after the Trident. How much can a crown be worth, when a crow can dine upon a king?

He rues Robert, and aspects of Barristan’s character’s commentary of who you represent and choose to serve are more subtly present in his story too.

Jaime snorted. "It's not Aerys I rue, it's Robert. 'I hear they've named you Kingslayer,' he said to me at his coronation feast. 'Just don't think to make it a habit.' And he laughed. Why is it that no one names Robert oathbreaker? He tore the realm apart, yet I am the one with shit for honor." "Robert did all he did for love." […] “Robert did all he did for pride, a cunt, and a pretty face." He made a fist . . . or would have, if he'd had a hand. Pain lanced up his arm, cruel as laughter. "He rode to save the realm," she insisted. To save the realm. "Did you know that my brother set the Blackwater Rush afire? Wildfire will burn on water. Aerys would have bathed in it if he'd dared. The Targaryens were all mad for fire."

And because he deserved to die. "I have made kings and unmade them. Sansa Stark is my last chance for honor."

Dany is destined to succeed in the places that Rhaegar was doomed to fail, they have a plethora of parallels, so her reawakening that hope in Jaime in some form too would be something I would love to see actually.

Jaime is one of the characters that does have a very emphasized relationship with Rhaegar and his children. The guilt is very present, other than the reevaluation of his father, it might also be building to something concerning Rhaegar’s legacy: be it Jon, Dany, or even FAegon. He also has guilt regarding Dany’s mother:

And dragons, lurking down below. He remembered the sullen orange glow of the coals in the iron dragon's mouth. The brazier warmed a chamber at the bottom of a shaft where half a dozen tunnels met. On the floor he'd found a scuffed mosaic of the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen done in tiles of black and red. I know you, Kingslayer, the beast seemed to be saying. I have been here all the time, waiting for you to come to me. And it seemed to Jaime that he knew that voice, the iron tones that had once belonged to Rhaegar, Prince of Dragonstone.

"You're hurting me," they had heard Rhaella cry through the oaken door. "You're hurting me." In some queer way, that had been worse than Lord Chelsted's screaming. "We are sworn to protect her as well," Jaime had finally been driven to say. "We are," Darry allowed, "but not from him.”

Prince Rhaegar burned with a cold light, now white, now red, now dark. "I left my wife and children in your hands." "I never thought he'd hurt them." Jaime's sword was burning less brightly now. "I was with the king . . ."

For an instant, the deep red clouds that crowned the western hills reminded him of Rhaegar's children, all wrapped up in crimson cloaks.

Dany is one of the most raw representations of hope in this story, so I would love for that to be a through line with multiple PoV characters she interacts with. She is the fire in the title. Not to mention that fire is already associated with life, light against darkness, very directly in Jaime’s prophetic weirwood dream:

Brienne’s sword took flame as well, burning silvery blue. The darkness retreated a little more.

The fires that ran along the blade were guttering out, and Jaime remembered what Cersei had said.

“the flames will burn so long as you live” “when they die so must you”.

[green-alien-turdz]

started autistically vibrating the second i read your answer lmfao. i was thinking cartman or tweek myself tbh, those bitches are both just PRIMED for it imo. i tend to lean towards a lot of abduction experiences being some kind of extreme reaction to other earthly trauma, but that really doesnt seem to fit every account so idk what the fuck is going on. god though dude *puts on homemade MUFON lanyard* i am SO SO SO CURIOUS to hear about your/your fam's weird experiences if you ever wanna share, i saw some questionable shit when i briefly lived out in Ohio myself. gone back and forth on the legitimacy of it all over the years, one of those things that's like, the more you research the less you Know.

Okay bro, I gotchu. I NEVER get to talk about this shit so imma fuckin go wild

Ight, so legit everybody in my mfin family got some shit to say- I tried to pry my brother's experiences outta him, but he is dogshit about answerin questions. Just know that he got some stories from when he would go campin n shit (even though he has funny ass stories from when he was outta his mind fucked up, there's still a lotta sober experiences he's got too)

1st, my dad: his stories are kinda vague too bcuz we don't talk, but from what he has told me in the past, he has 2 moments in his life he was certain was alien activity. Both of these take place in Texas (but when he was still livin in Ohio, he did say he'd seen some weird shit). The first is when he was movin to Oregon, n he was drivin late at night through Texas. Not a soul on the mfin road n he's in buttfuck nowhere. He said that there was this huge fuckin flash of light from above n his truck completely shut off. Like, the mf was still rollin at the same speed, but nothin it was like the car itself just kinda switched off (no engine, no lights, no music, nothin). He's tryin to start it up over n over, not really sure what the hell was goin on- so he's tryna pop the clutch seein as he was still movin. But this shit would NOT turn the fuck over. Until after he was gonna give up, slowly brake n just pull off to the side, but before he even attempted, the truck starts up again n continues on like nothin even happened.

His second experience I don't remember as well, so sorry about that. If I fuckin recall my dad n his band were just finishin up a show n were just chillin behind the bar smokin. One mf points out that there's this weird fuckin plane over some buildings on the horizon. Like, it just wasn't movin right? He said it seemed to be movin in a really slow zig zag pattern (but it wasn't like a drone, this this was way too big n it was the mid-90s). They kinda brush it off bcuz it's late as hell n they're all pretty shitfaced. But he said that it lasted in that area for about 10 more minutes, just movin back n forth until he looked away for a minute n it was just gone.

He's also told me about how on his late night drives in dead places, he's seen a shit load of random light infront of him shootin into the ground, n this is especially fuckin freaky to me bcuz I got a very similar thing that happened not that long ago. It's explained in my individual experience.

My mom n grandma: My gma might have some more, I feel like she had told me somethin. This one is backed by both my mom n my gma (although my uncle was here too, he just doesn't associate w/ the family so maybe he'd have some input). My gma used to drive from across the whole U.S. ALL the fuckin time when my mom was growin up, like they always had these roadtrips bcuz my gpa was an abusive pos n they'd escape back to my greatgrandparents place. So they're in the more of the desert states (like New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, I just can't remember which). My mom is probably about 10 or so. It's full on daylight, unlike every other story I got, this is the only one where it is broad fuckin daylight out. There's nothin but desert for miles, it's just a long beige stretch. So when my mom saw somethin just hoverin in the sky, it stuck out like a sore thumb. My mom calls it out, which causes everyone in the car to just watch it. My gma doesn't stop drivin, but she slowed down quite a bit, n she says that thing just fuckin sat there. Like, no movement whatsoever. It didn't look all that much like a plane, but they couldn't make out defined details. All they knew is that there is this plane adjacent aircraft just hoverin in the middle of the desert. They'd never seen anythin like it, despite all of them bein raised on military bases n seein a lot of kinds of military aircrafts (which is why this was ruled out). They kept drivin off but my mom said she just watched it through the window as it became smaller n smaller until it got too far away to see- but that shit never moved. It just remained hoverin in that same place.

Ight, Imma get into my experiences now, I got two with people n one that's on my own (that one is long as SHIT).

The first one is with me n my sisters (home in Oregon): This is around 2015-2016. It's the middle of the night in late April. We were chillin bcuz it was one of my sisters bdays n we were just talkin n watchin the stars. Now we live right next to an airport, so there are a shit ton of planes that go over, even late at night- but you can always tell those bcuz of the red lights n they're usually not that high up yet. We were just talkin tryin to find constellations bcuz it was a clear ass night. At some point we see these two lights. They're contained in these circular shadows WELL into the sky, but we could still make out a vessel that the light were on. 4 light on each circle. They're goin up n down the night sky back n forth completely parallel, so it seems like they're together. At first we were losin our shit, not able to explain what we were watchin. After some rational thought, we were like 'mfer we see satellites in the sky all the time, that's probably what these are' bcuz they were fuckin zoomin through the sky. We even see satellites pass over, but we kinda notice that they move n look a LOT different than the lights we were watchin. But every satellite's different yknow? That is until these mfs, the completely parallel movin in tandem lights all of a sudden both separate n go fuckin zoomin away from one another in the opposite direction. No longer up n down, but left n right. And then they're just fuckin GONE. Like, they sped off n never returned to the place they'd been for like 20 or so minutes. (Now I am willin to admit, that very well could be satellites, but it's still weird as fuck).

Here's one with me n my dad: This is around 2019. We were out in Utah, middle of the desert. This time it's probably closer to like 10-11pm. We were kinda just doin our own thing, sittin, thinkin about shit. When outta the fuckin blue, we notice this weird ass aircraft. Like, it low flying, large enough to be a fuckin cargo plane (doesn't look like one though), n movin super slow with a BRIGHT fuckin light slowly phasin in n out, illuminatin the craft. We're both losin our shit watchin this bcuz neither of us know what the fuck we're lookin at. Now this this was low enough that, if it were a plane, we would've heard it. But it was movin at the same speed which planes always appear to be when they're thousands of feet into the sky. But this was maybe 200 or less feet up. It was a really thick, aircraft that was slightly triangular in shape, but still pretty bulky. We couldn't see any engine or shit like that. We are legit fuckin shoutin like mad men, chasin this thing. At some point we try to call over the rest of the family, but we're slowly losin our visual on this thing. Everyone else is tryna look in the sky as my dad n I make a mad dash tryna keep an eye on it as it went behind some structure. But the second we got to a place where it should've been seen on the other side, based on its flight path, this thing was fuckin gone. Like, nowhere in the sky. It was like it was never there. To this day not sure what the fuck we were watchin bcuz we followed it for a good while, just for it to vanish.

Okay, now onto my final encounter (warning, this is a LONG mf bcuz it just happened in January, so it's fresh on my mind): I had decided to drive out to Sauvi island at like 1 am because I really wanted to go out and watch the water. But it was like the foggiest night in existence. It was during that period in January where every night was covered in this thick, heavy fog. I wasn't gonna let that stop me though. Even if I could barely see the road and almost crashed like 5 different times, I was determined. The drive itself was kinda ominous, but shit didn't start gettin weird until I actually reached Sauvi's. The second I reach the island, something just feels off instantly. I mean, no one's on the road of course, it's late, it's foggy. But I mean, it was DEAD. There was an alarming amount of roadkill everywhere (like fresh roadkill), and the entire island reeked of fuckin death, skunk, and mold. So I keep fuckin driving and just get the sense that someone was following me, like on my ass tailing me, but there wasn't any other cars or nothing. But I had the window down and swear I could hear some shit close to me. I'm driving and manage to miss my turn off to the beach. Here's where shit genuinely starts getting weird. Lights. Unexplainable lights ALL over. Now if this was a more populated area, I would assume some of this was street lamps, but the island doesn't really have that many (they have them in front of some buildings, but the roads are lightless). I kept seein "headlights" coming around turns that didn't exist. And when I should've been passing them, there was nothing there and the lights were gone. Okay, weird, but maybe it was my headlights reflection on the fog. Then I see fuckin taillights. I get confused because it looks like a car going up a hill, and I brushed it off before realizing that it was a wide open, flat road, and there was no hill or car in sight. I watched the lights turn into nothing and they were gone. At this point, I'm freaked out, but I'm still finding my way back to the beach. I manage to loop back around to the entrance of Sauvi's so I can take the right turn this time. When I tell you that the smell is worse and I even notice more roadkill. I would've seen any other cars on the road, but there was fuckin no one. And I know damn well that I wasn't the one who hit them. But I brush that off because I'm every white person in a horror movie. Not too long after, I saw the final unexplainable light I'd see that night. There was this small-ish, but abnormally bright light just kinda bobbing up and down infront of this post. I assumed it was some weird reflective thing, but as I approached it, it went up and then shot into the ground- the light completely disappearin into the ground. After I saw this, the feelin of bein chased was at a 100%, like I was stressin. I finally took the right turn, and there's this one fuckin shadow in the fog that I'm TELLING you looked like this tall fucking figure walking about. I legit stopped dead in my tracks to watch it, but this feeling of dread came over me, and I sped off. I finally make it to the beach, but I think I stayed for maybe 5 minutes or less? There was an extremely menacing feeling. Like it was THICK. I couldn't see the water it was so fogged out. I mean, it was beautiful. But it truly felt like I was being watched. There was little to no sound until I heard coyotes fucking EVERYWHERE. Like an insane amount. I head back to the car and they seem to shut up. I absolutely dipped the fuck outta there.

Now it is important to note with Sauvi's that there is maybe a supernatural element into that. Seein as Sauvi's, like most of Oregon n the U.S. was home to Native Americans (Chinook Indians specifically) n as we know, mfs just weren't allowed catch a break (to put things lightly). So there is more than likely some unrest in the energies n life of the island.

But yeah, there's a small collection of experiences in my family. I'd LOVE to hear your shit from Ohio. That place has some strange shit goin on there, like genuinely. Everytime I went to vist my dad's mom, that place just feels like somethins goin on there

[weaselweaselw]

Deltarune: Why Gaster has a Split Personality

Holy shit... so, in case you're living under a rock, the Deltarune Winter Newsletter came out last night, and its release sent ripples throughout the entire UT/DR fandom.

Included in the Newsletter is a development update which states that Chapter 3 is pretty much complete.

The only aspect of the chapter still being worked on is the localization process from English to Japanese – the entire team is now working on Chapter 4. So that's nice - they even have an internal deadline for the actual game, so we can expect a release within the next year and a half.

However, the main selling point of this entire newsletter was the fact that it's themed around Valentine's Day. And as a result, there were a lot of Valentine's Day letters sent from the various Undertale and Deltarune characters. Here's one from Undyne:

Here's a list of all the letters. Some are short, some are more comical - but many of them reveal interesting things about these characters.

Especially one character in particular...

That's right! Even Gaster has a letter of his own! In fact, it's the rarest letter of them all that to my knowledge, only one person received, until minutes later, the letter itself was erased from Fangamer's website. However, the letter was archived in the nick of time.

Wow, so that was a lot, right? There's quite a bit to analyze here, from Gaster needing help, to him forgetting someone - and it certainly added fuel to the fire that is the deltarune theory community.

However, there's one particular debate taking place all over the internet right now, for you see... some people don't think that letter was sent by Gaster. For one, the tone of this letter doesn't match his usual scientific, detached, and robotic demeanor he's usually associated with. He appears much more down-to-earth, speaking in a much more formal way than he usually does. And for many in the fandom at the moment, that is enough ground to say this character isn't Gaster.

Despite how utterly insane and ridiculous this might sound to you, these people do bring up good points. And of course... these people also use the Japanese translation as evidence. In the Japanese version of Undertale and Deltarune, Gaster speaks in Katakana and Kanji, two rather complex and sophisticated alphabets, but in this letter, Gaster speaks in Hirigana - a more casual, laid-back, and simplistic alphabet, reflecting his demeanor.

So, what gives? Is this a different Gaster? Are there two Gasters at work here, who may or may not be at odds with one another? Is there going to be a Gaster War?

No. People seem to be forgetting something: Gaster was shattered across time and space, as revealed by Undertale.

This isn't just some figurative jargon - one of the Gaster Followers quite literally holds a piece of Gaster in his hand. I know this is often overlooked, but what do you think the psychological effects of this could be?

It would likely be an extremely traumatic experience, if I'm going to be honest - as parts of your mind and body become fragmented across the entire universe and across time itself. So: it's quite possible that Gaster simply has... a split personality.

There aren't two Gasters or anything ridiculous like that, but rather, the one Gaster we know has his mind scattered across the universe, quite literally fragmented - such that different aspects of his personality present themselves at different times. In fact, such a condition exists in the real world: it's called Dissociative Identity Disorder, and it is most often associated with trauma resulting in the compartmentalization of the mind into multiple personality states, otherwise known as alters.

These are not separate people - think of it like turning a light switch on and off, or closing a door. And this is my solution to this debate that has begun about Gaster - I like to think of it as a compromise, but Gaster having a split personality like this can really spice up the story a bit - and could even solve some of the lingering mysteries about what happened to the secret bosses, but as of now, this only exists as theory tape.

Thanks for tuning into my rant.