#cause they do cause me a not constructive or reasonable amount of stress

[randomrandy]

Random post: “reblog if you *thing I agree with”

My brain: if you reblog this you’re a virtue sighing whore who just wants internet clout. If you don’t reblog this you’re a heartless monster who should be shot in the street. Kys

Me: wtf

[icryaboutit]

It was all acting?!

SUMMARY: Imagine, somewhere in the timeline of Twst, Vil asked for GenZ!Yuu's assistance when one of the actors failed to show due to reasons. So GenZ!Yuu of course agreed to it cause why not. And the real kicker to it all is that the person they were replacing is a lover who got their heart broken, so crying was involved. Now IMAGINE, the sheer amount of suppressed trauma GenZ!Yuu have finally had a reason to come out.

or something along those lines

TAGS: Male Yuu, OOC, Angst?

WORD COUNT: 1,290 words

"What do you mean, they can't come?!"

The high-pitched voice of Vil's manager echoed through the place, garnering much attention from nearby crowds.

"Keep quiet Adeline, you are garnering unwanted attention."

Vil's calm yet somehow tired voice came from behind his manager, making her look at him with a distressed expression.

"How can I stay calm Vil! One of our actor is unreachable! And today is a big day!"

She exclaimed, clearly today's event was something that was of great importance. Which it is, the current event at play may help Vil rise in more fame, hell! It might even help him finally beat Neige LeBlanche.

"I know how important this is Adeline. But there is no need to fret and stress over something that we couldn't have known would occur."

"But Vil-!"

"Hmm? What's going on?"

This snapped the two out from their own world arguing, when a familiar voice had interrupted their talk.

"Ah, potato, what brings you here?"

Vil greeted, as Yuu stood there with some things in hand.

"Rook had asked of me to deliver this for you Vil-san."

Yuu said as he gave the stuff on his hand to Adeline.

"Thank you potato."

"No problem~ Rook promised to give me some trinkets for this trip so it wasn't really free labor."

Yuu explained with a shrug, as Vil looked at him up and down with calculating gaze. Feeling this, Yuu decided to make a quick ran for it.

"Well, then... I'll be off no-"

"Wait a minute, potato."

'Damn!'

"What is it Vil-san..?"

Yuu cautiously asked, knowing whatever Vil halted him for would end up in a disaster.

"Potato, how would you like to star in-"

"No thank you~!"

Yuu sweated bullets as he declined Vil's offer in a swift move,

"You haven't even heard the proposal yet potato."

"Whatever Vil-san was about to say, my senses were telling me that such sacred duties are bound for a much fortunate soul~!"

In short, "Hell, no, fuck off!" was what Yuu wanted to give off which was brutally ignored by Vil's next choice of words.

"Oh~? Do you think my eyes would deceive me once I see talent potato? You must have mistaken me for someone else's personality."

In short, "Give up, you have no choice." And thus, getting the message, Yuu was added in the list of actors at the last minute.

"Where did Yuu go?! I can't find him anywhere!"

"Henchman! Where are you!?"

"Maybe he just went to the bathroom?"

"HUMAN! REVEAL YOURSELF! YOU MUSN'T MAKE WAKA-SAMA WAIT!"

"You guys need to calm down..."

"Bold of ya ta even think they'll just calm down."

Currently, a group of first years were looking for a certain Yuu who still hasn't come on their meeting place.

Despite their current shenanigans, all of the first years were deeply worried as they wondered what kind of mess Yuu had gotten themselves involved in just by being in the area.

*Ping*

The sound of the notification on all of the first years' phones rang, informing them of the message that they had received.

Opening the message they were greeted by a text from the same person they were looking for.

YesImYuu: Can't make it guyz~!😥 Vil-san has me trapped!😭You guyz can go ahead and go🤧😞 AND BETTER BE ON TIME!😤

"..."

"So he's fine, good to know."

Jack who was the calmest exhaled in relief knowing that Yuu was alright. He then proceeded to push the flabbergasted group towards the entrance.

"So I can say whatever I want?"

"Yeah, we just need a way for people to gather towards us so that the plot can be constructed... I guess, I'm not sure either."

Yuu was conversing with his partner who was as clueless as him, since the one who got information about everything was the one who was currently unavailable.

"Okay... So like, do you have anything particular topic in mind?"

"Well I mean, we just need to cause a commotion that will enable Schoenheit-senpai and the female lead to meet through the crowd. And we thought, what better crowd gathering option there is but a lover's quarrel..."

At the mention of the words lover's quarrel, Yuu had a bright idea popping into his mind.

"Oh~! Then how about-"

And this was the start of the famous lover's quarrel, staring the prefect of NRC and some dude from Pomefiore.

The play had started, and just as Vil and his manager had expected, the theme garnered a lot of attention. Adeline only prayed that the scene where Vil and the female lead would end up meeting would be a success. Considering that Vil had made a choice to add an outsider the last minute.

The moment that scene appeared, the first years who were either only there for the free food, or because of some reasons or just genuine support, had their eyes widen at the sight of Yuu with some pomefiore guy as they argued in the background their voices inaudible.

Not to mention the prefect had a dress on, along with longer hair, and makeup that brought out his feminine side.

It wasn't only the first years who were shocked. Everyone who was somewhat close or friends with Yuu was flabbergasted and shocked to see him acting on the stage. Even more shocked as the play continues.

"Who are you referring to?"

Yuu's face contorted into that of confusion and anger.

"Camilla."

The man spat with a look of indifference. The fake crowd on the stage was now genuinely intrigued by what was happening with him and Yuu, as they crowded over the two who were "arguing".

"Why would I care about her?!"

"Because I care about her!!"

At the sudden explosion of emotion from the man the people couldn't help but flinch at it.

Yuu who was on the receiving end looked like he wanted to scoff at the unbelievable proclamation.

"Morning, noon, and night I care about her!.. And you hurt her."

The man looked angrier by the second, the look of insanity dancing in his eyes. Yuu on the other hand was silent, but his eyes told everyone his true feelings on the matter.

"If you hurt her... You hurt me."

There was silence as there was tension, the people watched in great apprehension as they watched the scene unfold.

The man held a broken and emotionless smile, as he stared at Yuu who held and expressed nothing on his face.

"Camilla is who I want, that is where my loyalties lie, that is who my priority is."

"Not the mother of your children?"

Gasps were heard as a big revelation came. The sky darkens as the weather visibly shifted to a much gloomier setting.

"Don't bring the boys into this."

"Alright, not the woman you married!!"

"I refuse to be blamed any longer for this grotesque misalliance! I wash my hands of it!"

It was then that thunder strike, yet none were paying any attention to the weird weather changes as they watched the two on stage.

*Slap*

It was also the time that Yuu seemed to have enough, as he raised his hands in the air, a resounding slap echoed through the stage. Yuu looked at the man with an unreadable expression, but the tears that fell from his eyes held every ounce of emotion that was left for the man in front of him.

Gasps were heard, and the sudden movement made the crowd move suddenly, as they unconsciously pushed off a woman from the crowd, who happened to be the female lead. Only to be caught by Vil, who happened to have positioned himself there.

Nothing about that act was in the plan. But in the end, the play ran smoothly.

[360degreesasthecrowflies]

Right sorry but I don't understand why some people, even people that seem otherwise reasonable, seem to have absolutely internalised corporate capitalism talk to the extent that it completely subsumes their own personality and (class) interests???

At work today we had what's supposed to be an evaluation where as a department we, about 40 people, talked about things that have been difficult this year and what we'd hope will improve next year.

So I talked about how this year I have worked a lot of cover, including for managers (2 pay bands above me) and for multiple colleagues at once who have been off, essentially doubling and at some times even tripling my workload - for extra stress and no extra money. I said (using corporate language to hint) that I wasn't always good at asking for help, meaning, undertone, none of you offered to help me out and just expected me to sit and take it because I need my existing salary.

So this was in small groups, in which the focus was firstly giving feedback, and secondly remembering to praise each other for our achievements.

Well the nominated speaker for our group comes on and immediately my story of struggling to do a large amount of extra tasks that are essentially literally taking advantage of someone in a position of little power, actively causing stress to myself at work, for no extra money or any kind of reward but 'helping out the team' is told to the group as "sometimes we had to take on extra responsibilities but that was good because it let us learn about our inner strength and learn more about the business, increasing our skills for the future".

Excuse me! That was not AT ALL what I was talking about!

I already work a valuable job in healthcare. I ALREADY have skills - HENCE I was able to cover for senior team members and keep everything running and going literally at the cost of my social life, mental and physical health. And you aren't even going to say thanks or well done?! In the meeting where that is meant to be the focus?? In fact you're actually going to remove my agency and reframe the story of my own struggle and sacrifice to help out that I told you into some kind of heartwarming Disney ending where the servant felt that the work was its own reward?!

No sorry, get to fuck with that.

Ironically as a result of the teambuilding, feedback, evaluation and celebrating success meeting, I've come out feeling absolutely disheartened. They were like robots. I wasn't the only one that's made sacrifices like this this year, but I was the only one who didn't try and reframe it into a positive, with a neat learning experience and lesson for the group at the end of it.

This is the same workplace that asked us what we would like to add to the workplace to improve our own wellbeing (I reiterate, working in a stressful healthcare provider) and then shot down everything we suggested, even those things that wouldn't involve paying us more or giving us more time off. We were told that we could work longer hours in order to be able to 'earn' a team 'lunch out' during the work day (that of course we would also pay for), or that we could do a 'wellbeing walk' while also having a meeting, so... not exactly an opportunity to de-stress during the work day!

Honestly, I don't understand why these people don't pick up that they are becoming the architects of their own misery, constructing cages of their own making around themselves - and me! We don't have to play the game and turn everything into a positive. That isn't good for mental health OR morale overall either - it's just, ironically for the health background, putting a sticking plaster over a bigger wound. We need to grow up and actually address the issues we have as adults otherwise experienced and valuable staff are just going to end up burning out - which then increases the workload on everyone else and risks bringing the whole system back to square 1.

[cannibalisticdespair]

Hey, how's it going? If you don't mind answering, how's the system constructed? Who's in there? If you do mind answering, what's your favourite colour?

It’s myself (Krys, she/her), Junko (Junko fictive, she/her), Zaedel (my twin since we formed at the same time for bad prolonged trauma reasons, he/him), Cherry (he/she and don’t consistently use one, bigender little who takes after the original host in some ways but is a more idealized version, mentally 8-10), and Val (she/her, oldest one here, grew up with the original host but Zaedel and I only became aware of her much later on because historically she existed for “we need to be a vicious feral beast to match the energy of the family screaming matches and whatnot” reasons, but has been rehabilitating you could say).

Headspace-wise, I just look how I look with maximum effort. Zaedel meanwhile has our dad’s olive skin tone (lifelong outdoor loving and working Sicilian man), stubble to a short beard, long black hair, and black molting angel wings. And usually a leather jacket. Junko’s mostly canon, just the clothing tends to be more early 2010s emo girl. Fishnet tops and a bra or shirt where the sleeves and neck are cut out and the back is sliced up, ripped skinny jeans, docs or converse, a black/red/danganronpa blood pink color scheme.

Cherry is an androgynous, pale, heavily freckled boygirl with long brown hair and brown eyes, usually a black tanktop, shorts, and flip flops. And Val looks like a cross between the HL2 rotting corpse with the real corpse face and Samara from The Ring if she was actually depicted as a waterlogged corpse that’s been sitting there for a week or two (we had unrestricted internet access starting in the 2000s, we have quite the frame of reference).

Zaedel and I formed in tandem with the death of the original host. Originally, he held all the trauma memories from before we formed and I had near-total amnesia. He also spent a few years trying to get me to kill ourselves because he couldn’t take control of the body over it. LSD changed us and our dynamic, and also caused a slowly rising amount of access to the memories for me.

Val we didn’t really realize was a headmate until more recently because of her purely utilitarian fronting and lack of communication, but once we started talking it became clear she was the first one to form. The original host was extremely timid and shy and nervous, which didn’t really work for the environment we grew up in. So Val was the fighter.

Cherry and Junko both broke off of me. Cherry started out as my littlespace, but more and more life stress and stuff eventually snapped him off entirely and made her his own thing.

Junko meanwhile is a mix of causal factors. One, writing hundreds of thousands of words of fic in the 2010s with my method. Which is “I just place these semi-independent thoughtforms of characters in a situation with a little bit of scripting and prose-journal what happens”. Two, strengthening that with constant listening to a playlist build around her for years. Three, more LSD, which led to our first direct conversation enabled by a poster of her (the Egirl Junko art by JunkoEXE). Four, yet more psychological trauma. What finally led to her permanently emerging was me accidentally getting triggered and restoring my earliest CSA trauma memories, which broke me pretty bad. Like… I thought it began way later than that. She took on pieces that broke off of me when that happened and it finished her.

Name-wise, I stole mine from an emo girl I knew in high school. Zaedel thought up his after a few years with a mix of “it needs to have the right mouthfeel and also needs to end in -el”. Cherry got hers from a friend of ours. Junko is Junko, that’s just her name. And Val is short for Valerie and is a nerdy joke about her being our “evil side”. It’s a feminine name play on “Valeyard”.

And also, my favorite color is purple. Junko’s is anything in the red/magenta/pink spectrum. Zaedel is black. Cherry really likes green and blue. Val is the sorts of purples you get from bruising and discoloration on a corpse.

[droughtofapathy]

I'm too lazy to get my phone out and scroll through emojis, which I know you'll appreciate. "what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?" "share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on" "what's the fastest way to become your mutual?"

And because I know this is going to cause internal bleeding: "give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing"

Thank ya, love.

Oh thank god, I don't have to go scrolling back to find the post. Big fan of no-emoji asks.

"what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?" Essays. I'm lucky enough to have many beloved mutuals who will show up on the doorstep of my works with lengthy analysis, discussion, and favorite lines all ready to go. I'm a writer who wants to discuss the work in intimate detail, so these comments are like catnip to me.

"share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on" Stop giving a fuck. Do what you want and what you like and to hell with what others are doing or thinking. Having confidence in yourself is the easiest way to deal with problems. I have always been an extremely confident person, but as a kid I still had a lot of stress and anxiety, and though even at such a tender age, I was still doing what I wanted, I was also doing it with a lot more neurotic energy. I had panic attacks semi-frequently, but (and this is really bad advice from a professional mental health perspective because I'm realizing how trivializing it sounds) I got rid of all the stress and anxiety and neuroses by just...not having them. It sounds absurd, but I'm living the high life with none of the mental health issues so many of my friends have because I just decided to stop being anxious and stressed all the time, and more importantly, I'm so fucking sure of myself. This is not something most people are able to do. Proper treatment is important: I just... didn't need it. I looked at all those reasons I was stressed and upset and just said "who cares? So what? What's the worst that could happen and what am I actually going to do about it if it does? Nothing matters. I'm fantastic. So why am I wasting my time and energy being so worked up about everything?" And that's kind of just how I live my life. Nothing matters, things happen, life goes on. I know I'm a fucking delight. (And yeah, it's probably really aggravating to hear someone just say stop having anxiety, because it's not that simple. But it was for me.

So that's my advice: be confident. Be apathetic. I'm sure of what I think and what I do. Have trust in yourself. Just do whatever it is that you need or want to do.

"what's the fastest way to become your mutual?" Barrel into my DMs with lengthy rants/discussions at the ready. Talk to me about my writing or the theatre. I'm actually not great at fast-tracking mutuals. I know all of my current beloved mutuals can attest to the fact that it did take time for me to follow back. Just stick with me. I'll get there eventually if I like what's on your blog and I connect with you personally.

"give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing" Me talking to myself: Jesus fucking Christ, why won't you take some goddamn time to edit your work? Would it kill you to take a breather in between finishing the last sentence and putting it up on the archive with barely a cursory reread for typos (especially given how they keep slipping by anyway)? Why must you be so stubborn? It's not admitting incompetence by doing a second draft. Try it out sometime and see what happens. You might even like it.

(Unfortunately, I am cursed with a staggering amount of confidence--bordering on arrogance--and my first drafts are pretty damn fantastic. I never had to try very hard to get top marks for school essays, so I was stuck in this no-edit lifestyle from an early age and just never bothered to get out. It's working for me.)

[sunset-synthetica]

DL1 is a great game whose one main issue is the story. The gameplay is well balanced, and the parkour aspects can be tough at first but you can adapt. The story feels short and flat, predictable, and you'd expect DL2, to fix it, which it doesn't.

DL2's story is filled with plot holes, inconsistencies, just flat out lack of attention to detail and the devs just going "eh I don't feel like doing that" with so many things it's fascinating. Choosing a side doesn't do shit as far as the main story is concerned.

The staggering amounts of needlessly cut content and constant, and I do mean CONSTANT shifts in what the game was supposed to be during development made this worse, but didn't cause all the problems.

Just the map feels inorganic. DL1's slums were great due to the different levels the game would take you through. The starting point, the Tower and its surroundings, have relatively low buildings closely together, allowing inexperienced and low-level players to be eased into the parkour aspect rather than just dropped in head first. What's more, there are hills, bodies of water, unique buildings- landmarks that aren't necessary to the main quests that make the world feel alive. Harran is a living, breathing city with a history and a reason to be the way it is, split between absolute poverty and fancy, modern buildings that most of its native population won't ever visit.

Old Villedor is flat and hastily constructed with every building looking the same, except for when the storyline demands you to go somewhere and do something, in which case you'll get a tower or maybe a church. Everything is level and thus boring.

The movement, while fine in most part, lacks in climbing. DL1's parkour was janky, rough but with great flow. You could feel Crane fighting for his life when he just barely grabbed onto a ridge or jumped up while climbing.

DL2 aims for a more fluid, floaty feeling, which doesn't work well when you start climbing and Aiden constantly pauses in nonsensical places, or starts going down instead of up or grabbing onto random shit when you want him to jump. I don't actually have a problem with the different direction for what it's supposed to feel like, it's just not done well in some areas.

This brings me onto one of my main issues gameplay wise. The fucking key bind combinations.

See, in DL1, all you needed apart from the standard movement buttons was C, E and B, with the combinations required for certain tasks not overlapping. Run, jump, press E, and you get a kick. Jump, press LMB, you smash an enemy head in.

DL2 makes you do a whole series of tricks before letting you just stomp an enemy's head. Instead of having a specific weapon type for a 360° attack, you press LMB and Tab at the same time (???) and maybe you get it right. You need Tab, Ctrl, C, E, often in weird combinations in incredibly specific moments that make it feel tedious.

The skill tree is poorly balanced. Instead of adding a lot of passive abilities, or affecting your crafting/bartering system, most of DL2's unlockable skills add an active skill. It quickly becomes overwhelming.

DL2 fails because it changes things that didn't require it, and keeps the issues from the first game. DL1's graphics, for a game that's 8 years old, hold up spectacularly well. The world feels alive and moving. The game is terrifying at times, and even during the day, it's eerie to see everything just stopped in time. Shops are open and their signs are on, posters welcome you to Harran, the Stuffed Turtle is still blaring its tune.

Of course, with the large time-skip, DL2 is going to have a different atmosphere, but seeing survivors on every corner while you're lucky to find a group of more than 5 zombies at once takes away from that lonely, uneasy feeling. I've found that the fear and panic of the first game turns into simple stress in the sequel- and not the fun kind. The night-time chases are boring, because there's random safe points strewn about the map, and the removal of the look back while you run feature doesn't help. The new volatile designs also just don't hit the same imo. The red, visceral aspect of the original designs is much more interesting than the grayish skin in DL2.

[somecunt]

As time goes on, I notice how unfulfilled I am, and disappointed with my reality.

It’s sort of always been this way, but I’m in the position now where I could escape it, to my knowledge, if I did try harder.

I’m a transgender male and could be considered within the nonbinary spectrum. If you’ve read previous posts of mine, you’d be aware that I’m uncomfortable labeling myself nonbinary, I am agender, however I feel the need to be simplistic at the moment, what I’m more uncomfortable with is simply the term, “nonbinary”. While, “nonbinary spectrum” for me is more accurate, as I feel it is more informative about the nature of what nonbinary is intended to imply, a spectrum of genders outside exclusively male and female(genders), not simply a 3rd gender.

I have not transitioned, not medically, nor socially, offline. I am stagnant in my own life. I’ve been losing myself, and being stuck more often in a deeper state of depression.

I’ve been fearful of getting a job, I’ve never had a job previously. I had my reasons for the first year and a half I had planned to have a break after I finished school before starting a job, cause once you start, you’re not necessarily in a position to stop, now it’s expected of you to do x,y, and z for the rest of your life. So I thought I’d, for a few months, let myself be. I ended up getting wrapped up in babysitting, and it was expected of me due to other people being irresponsible, this lasted around 6 months(Although excuse my poor memory). Babysitting drove me near insane. By the end, I had had a panic attack in my sleep, which woke me up, and I struggled to breathe, and thought I was going to die. I was afraid much more so due to the idea or dying due to suffocation, it seemed like a really terrible and painful way to go, so that was the scary part. So I had intended to take another break at least two months due to the extreme amount of stress I had been in previously. I can’t completely remember but even during this time I still had to babysit to some extent which kept me not fully there. Covid also happened, which started before the babysitting.

After this, the second break after the babysitting stretched very long and I would feel very anxious filling out job application, this is an issue I no longer have, It’s more exhausting mentally for me than anxiety provoking, which the exhaustion isn’t my excuse, I simply haven’t been on top of it. Besides during the times when it triggered my anxiety, that was quite hard to deal with, so I do use the anxiety as a partially excuse.

Also, this post isn’t intended as a, “my life is so terrible feel bad for me” there are parts of my life that for me personally were difficult to bare, and I do honestly at times feel like that, as well as that I’ve never gotten to fully mourn the difficulties in my life without someone criticizing me for it (This isn’t completely true but I do feel locked in a state of misery in relation to the past, so there have been times where I will routinely breakdown about the same issues), however I only wanted to write this out. So it’s not necessary to tell me how stressful any of this was, nor even to give me job advice. If you want to, you can give me job advice but I’m unlikely to take it, as I feel I know what is required of me to get started, I only haven’t.

What I especially do not need is comments about how other people have it worse, that’s not relevant to anything I’m saying, I never implied that I’m the only person ever to have hardship, and it’s one of the most unhelpful phrases or humankind. I want to vent and construct my thoughts without someone trying to piss on me.

It’s possible no one will see this post, which is also fine.

[superfluouskeys]

foot update/mental health stuff

so yesterday I went to what I call the overpriced grocery store which honestly is probably a normal priced grocery store these days but I do not wish to believe it, but anyway it’s the only grocery store I can reasonably walk to (and they have a few select items that are either reasonably priced or i will simply buy anyway bc too much of a hassle to get elsewhere) but bc there’s a lot of construction in that area the least insane way to get there is up about three flights of stairs LOL.  and while going upstairs is now more or less okay for me, going DOWNstairs is not, so I wasn’t sure if this adventure would be a good idea but……….i really needed some things LOL.

the grocery trip went really well – I put an ace bandage on my foot just in case and very much shuffled down the stairs leaning on the handrail but it didn’t hurt or anything I was just being extra cautious.  so when I got home I was like, wellllllllll, my foot is already wrapped and I feel good…………dance time???  and of course I was having so much fun even having to be extremely careful that I worked through several dances I thought I could probably handle, I puttered around and did some light cleaning, I paced my apartment a fair amount because idk I was jazzed by the prospect of physical activity LOL

and looking at my fitbit stats I guess I actually did a lot yesterday!  but I felt so good I wasn’t even thinking about it, so today my body is EXHAUSTED and all my stats are bad LOL!  but goddddddd it feels so good to be able to be physically active again, like I KNEW it was gonna be really bad when I hurt my foot, like that was the FIRST thing I thought and what got me so upset was just, this is the only thing keeping me sane, I am going to be so crazy if I can’t use exercise as a stress reliever – and I’ve been thinking a lot that I’m honestly pretty proud of myself for handling the situation as well as I have and not just completely crumbling lol, but even KNOWING that not exercising is a one-way ticket to crazytown I still had this moment yesterday where I was like oh wow I feel normal and not depressed suddenly!!! huh! wonder what could have caused this!

and granted forcing myself to take a few days off + engage in my hobbies was also a contributing factor but like…..I mostly spent Friday catching up on admin tasks and I was absolutely crazy about my class at like 1 am on Saturday morning, and usually just resting to calm down kind of takes a few days to take effect lol like I was pretty sure the extra days off were more of a band-aid to keep me from snapping than an actual solution. 

and idk I think there was some value in having to just……..sit with myself while I was upset.  like I cannot stress how often over the last few weeks I was just sitting in my chair with my foot elevated on another chair, violently sobbing, because I couldn’t even go for a walk LOL.  It was kind of wild to realize that even when I was absolutely spiraling there was still a very sound voice of reason that was just like calmly countering every crazy thought I had even when I couldn’t really feel the truth of it, and I think that’s a real testament to how far I’ve come. and it's also like......it kind of forced me to face what was and wasn't working for me instead of just using intense exercise to cope with it.  BUT I was also like passively suicidal the whole time LOL so it’s definitely better to have the option of physical activity that has maybe a 0.00001 percent failure rate for making me feel better instantly.

I still have to be very careful, and I really think the spectre of having to go back to the foot elevation chair of sorrows will keep me on my best behavior, but WOW this is really going to help me get through the rest of this term with my sense of self intact LOL!

[saint-starflicker]

I personally was taught at school that sentence construction bypasses communication barriers: "When you [behavior] I feel so-and-so because [reason]." This is so that when the behavior is harmful, the person behaving harmfully would change or use the knowledge to wrangle a compromise that you can both be happy with. Because you communicated properly. So they understand. But the book Call Me Hope by Gretchen Olson reflected my own experience with trying to exercise that in real life, which is the realization that most people outside the classroom do not care about changing or making amends if they hurt you. A lot of people are set in ways committed to committing harm, whether that's because they consider you an acceptable target, or because they are attached to an image of themselves as good people and so refuse to take criticism.

I picked up on what I think is an evolved version of that communication barrier bypassing sentence construction, which is a series of sentences and an underlying attitude. The acronym is how to talk with somebody that is U.P.S.E.T. and behaving badly because of it. Approach with a commitment to Understanding and Perseverance, then issue the Sympathetic statement ("I am on your side, I am your friend and ally, and will love and support you") followed by the Empathetic statement ("You must be feeling outraged, frustrated, and hurt" "I'm sensing anger" "You must be disappointed " reflecting back on the mindset and feelings) and finally issue the Truth statement ("But that's no excuse for suicide-baiting, because however stressed out you are by disagreeing, you don't know what the person you said that to is going through and it has nothing to do with making your case for your favorite fictional character".)

I cannot do that. From what I learned from the failure of "I-Statements" (that "I feel XYZ because when you ABC it causes so-and-so" stuff), perseverance is a waste of life and there's nothing to understand from a harmful person. The Sympathy and Empathy statements taste condescending and manipulative, and I would really rather jump right to the Truth.

I have resolved conflicts without these methods, but the people I resolved it with were willing to hear me out and have those difficult and necessary conversations in the first place. They know themselves well enough to deescalate a conflict without trying to ignore it or without frustrating the people it affects with their cowardice and dodginess until the issue explodes. Instead, these gems can work through the source of it in their own attitudes deeply, admit to ulterior motives and trust that it won't get twisted by their admission, and they enjoy thinking up of compromises and sustainable solutions for genuine change. Whatever trouble they've taken to adjust is often rewarded by the vicarious joy they take in others being happier, and honestly I'm very often the same way. If it's an adjustment that can't be made without resentment, these types are honest about their limitations.

A lot of people can't be arsed to be that way too much of the time or really at any amount of time, or there's some temporary improved behavior before the resentment shows that they ever had to hear anything bad about themselves in the first place or had to change. I find that in those cases there's nothing to do and nowhere to go with people.

[anubisystem]

….. ok, I agree that many hobbies (including indoor hobbies like reading and craft) are sometimes inaccessible in general to people who are physically disabled and on a fluctuating basis for disabled people who have certain chronic illness. for various reasons and no one who is bedbound and thus can literally only scroll through social media during their down time should feel ashamed of not having a different hobby. For sure!

But. BUT. I really don’t want more of the disabled community endorsing or normalizing the most psychologically destructive compulsive hobby in society, especially in the age of tiktok and instagram being the primary scrolling apps that exist. These algorithms are trained to show you content you will react to emotionally, they spread political propaganda, they spread anorexia tips, they will find out what triggers you to interact most (spoiler alert: it’s usually rage! Known for causing stress!!!) and put it in your throat in place of food or water and send timed notifications to get you to spend more time on the app. I’m begging you, for the love of your emotional well-being, to do something other than scroll if there’s any option available to you. Many low-spoon options include listening to music, watching a sensory video, or reading literally whatever (I personally love me a good table of contents. Chidi anagonye voice: it’s like a menu, but the food is words)

I personally get a huge amount of psychic damage most of the time just from HAVING a phone in my life and I blame a lot of my past social media dependency on the (always personally false) disability justice talking point that being online was my only way of existing. Sitting off my phone, listening to music, mindfully eating or touching a sensory toy or something is actually restorative for the emotional state even though it’s not a “hobby” with any constructive outcome others can see. Spending a tiny amount of time every day not being overstimulated is pretty cool to work at too.

[kurna-kovite]

The debate on the MBTI of South Park character Tweek Tweak

This is a VERY long, very useless essay I have constructed about Tweek's MBTI type.

I have created this because of discussion on the personality database site.

Right now, the consensus is that Tweek is an ENFP, and I agree with this. However, I see a lot of arguments popping up about Tweek being an ISFJ stuck in a Ne grip. Because I care WAY too much about internet points, I researched and wrote an argument in an effort to convince people of Tweek being an ENFP.

Of course, that's not how internet arguments work, and I'm going crazy that I've put a lot of time into this useless thing that not a lot of people will actually read. So, I'm posting it here, lol. Sure hope it's not full of misinformation that will make me look like a fool.

Here we go.

I may not have been into MBTI for years, but I did a lot of reading to prepare for these arguments, and everything I've learned from arguments here and things online have been super interesting. 

So, the general consensus is that inferior grips come into play when under a lot of stress. That makes sense, but why do these grips come into play during these intense situations? To put it simply, it's like they're meant to be a coping mechanism. 

The reason I say it implies that you've exhausted your dominant functions, is because that's also the general consensus on what I've read up on. Very high stress situations may cause you to depend on those functions too much, effectively burning them out. That, or those functions just aren't working for the situation they're in, and won't give a good solution, which may stress you out even more. Thus, the inferior function grips because it's attempting to give those other functions a 'break', in an attempt to 'save the day', if you will. It's trying to be the backup when things aren't going right at all. 

It's why there are recommendations for what to do when you're in a grip. Step back, meditate or something, just take the time to 'recharge' I suppose so you can think clearly, and fall back to your natural functions. 

That's also the reason I disagree with it being a Ne grip. It should be taken into account that Tweek is in extraordinary circumstances; he's faced with this extreme amount of stress every-day, and we've never seen him out of this stress cycle. I haven't seen a moment of clarity where Tweek is significantly less stressed and therefore not reliant on a grip anymore. So this begs the question, is it a grip, or is that just how he is? 

Another thing about the idea of a grip, is that it comes with more stress than usual. But assuming that Tweek is under this type of stress everyday because of the fact that he lives in South Park, then… At what point does this kind of stress become the usual? 

Basically, what looks like lots of stress to us, is pretty normal for Tweek. I think that stress has become normalized to the point that we can assume that a grip would not be needed anymore, because these are things he experiences everyday. 

Going back to my argument with Put It Down, I think that episode shows us the distinction between everyday stress for Tweek, and a tremendous amount of stress. Tweek's everyday stress stems from his anxiety, but it's mostly stress about the things that could happen. However, in Put It Down, we see Tweek dealing with things that are happening to him. This isn't some ridiculous meltdown Tweek is having; North Korea sent a missile over his house 😭 I would say that this is so much more stressful than how he acts in the rest of the series. 

So this is why I argue that Tweek is an ENFP who had a Si-grip during the Put It Down episode, because Tweek got pretty narrow-minded and hopeless during the thing, to the point where he could only see the possibility of… North Korea bombing the shit out of him lmao. I went over the evidence for the si-grip in the last argument, but I can copy paste here in the event that someone didn't read that last argument. 

"ENFP's stuck in a Si-grip may be 'unable to see any possibilities or hope for the future, ' and 'Worry about whether or not they are healthy or at physical risk. They may feel paralyzed and unable to communicate clearly, as their thinking becomes cloudy and convoluted. They may feel overwhelmed, out of control, unable to sort out their priorities, and inflexible. 

'They also may be attracted to stuff that provides security and familiarity. ' "

"Tweek is constantly paranoid about his well-being. I don't see him being all that worried about his health in particular, just about whether or not something's going to get him. It also explains why Tweek is struggling so much in an episode like Put It Down; his thinking is all scrambled, and he can't sort anything out despite there being so many things happening around him. Craig trying to offer him solutions only makes it worse, because he is unable to sort them out and mull over it. He can't consider the possibilities anymore. 

Assuming he's in a Si-grip during this episode, then it also states he may feel 'paralyzed and unable to communicate clearly', which is why Tweek wasnt able to tell Craig what he needed. He couldn't quite see through his cloudy thoughts to know what he needed, which led to the communication problems that we saw. "

" 'ENFP's, when under a lot of stress, may see so many possibilities that get only get MORE stressed out, and start feeling alienated or lost. If they can't find a way to manage the stress, they may fall into the grip of their inferior function. '

It explains the way Tweek rants to Craig at the end of the episode. We saw Tweek trying through possible solutions at the beginning, but it just wasn't able to work out for him. So when he finally gets to process his emotions at the end, he explains that, 

'I feel scared! I feel alone! '

'That must be horrible! It must be hard to even think! '

'It is! It's terrible! '

'I bet it is! What else are you feeling? '

'Like I have no control over my life. Like I'm just a pawn in a big game! '

'Oh, that's a terrifying thought. You must feel trapped! '

'Yeah! Like trapped, but, completely unable to even move! '

Just in this one scene, we see so many symptoms of a Si-grip. Alienated, lost, overwhelmed, paralyzed, out of control. It makes much more sense to me, that any Si traits he has, only shows up in a form like this. "

That argument also explained that everyday stress, which I think is what Tweek is experiencing, typically makes ENFP's more ENFP like. I think, combined with his unhealthy anxiety and paranoia, this could easily be mistaken for a Ne grip. But in my eyes, I haven't seen enough evidence of a Si-dom to make that true. 

Now, I understand that MBTI's aren't exactly black and white, and don't necessarily adhere to the stereotypes, but this also makes the argument for a Si-dom make less sense to me. If our dominant functions are the ones we fall so naturally to, why don't we see solid moments of him using his dominant functions? 

The arguments for it seem pretty weak to me. Si-doms have the ability to consider new possibilities with time, but Tweek doesn't take a whole lot of time to consider possibilities. He took less than a minute to accept the possibility, so it doesn't quite make sense to me that this is the usual way an ISFJ will react, since it just happens so… Fast. Not to mention the idea that `anybody can accept new possibilities " isn't a very strong argument to me, either. Sure, I suppose anybody can accept new possibilities, but the point is that ENFPs are more prone to it. 

I'll go back to Tweek being visited by the "Ghost of Human Kindness". Tweek didn't need to take any time to mull over it to accept the idea that maybe it was possible to become more trusting in people. He was pretty open to the idea, of course, until it was immediately shot down because… That's just how things go for Tweek 💀 That's why I think these possibility points match ENFP better. When it comes down to it, one of the differences between ISFJ and ENFP is the acceptance of possibilities. Just because ISFJ can accept them, doesn't really show me that it proves the argument for ISFJ more than it does for ENFP, if that makes any sense. 

Another thing. Something everyone seems to be forgetting to take into consideration, is that Tweek is on drugs. Like, all the time. It's in his name. Of course, drugs would affect his cognitive functions to some degree, wouldn't they? 

I haven't seen much theory on how something like meth would affect cognitive functions in this setting, so I suppose I'm making my own theory. But this meth and caffeine addiction is probably the stark cause of his anxiety and paranoia. 

I think inferring that he is misusing his Ne function because he is stuck in a grip, implies that Tweek would also be able to fix all of that by just learning to use his Ne function properly. Instead, I think that the only reason he is unable to use his Ne function in a healthy, ENFP way, is because of outside causes. Of course being high on meth would make Tweek anxious and paranoid, it's a drug side effect, and the fact that Tweek's dominant trait is the one that combs through possibilities only exacerbates this issue. Not to mention, his parents only fuel his unhealthy worries, like in the same 'Child Abduction is Not Funny' episode where Richard taught Tweek never to answer the door for anyone, or he'd die.

 It's an unhealthy external factor that Tweek can't fix by learning to use an inferior Ne function properly. 

If you take away the meth addiction, and his awful parents, and the fact that he lives in South Park, then I'd be more inclined to believe that it's his own use of the Ne function that's giving him this awful anxiety, and therefore implies that it's his undeveloped inferior function that's in control. But I'd argue that Tweek is a victim of circumstance, and that if you DID take away the meth, parents, and town, all you'd have left is a normal ENFP kid. Of course, it’s not, and never will be that simple. But I don’t think that being an ENFP, and having anxiety are NOT mutually exclusive.

Now, for the argument on Fe vs. Fi. As far as I know, the Fe vs. Fi argument is about how he makes his decisions. Fe's make their decisions based on how they think the repercussions will affect other people, and Fi's make their decisions based on their inner feelings and ideals. It has nothing to do with his need for Craig's reassurance. 

Tweek and Kyle was just used as a comparison in another comment, because Kyle is a Fe user, but I find this to be a good way to look at why they’re different. Kyle was trying to get Stan's approval for his actions, which is a very clear usage of Fe to me, and it also sounded like Kyle was trying to convince himself. But I don't see Tweek trying to defend his own actions in an effort to get Craig to tell him his actions were morally okay actions, as much as I only see Tweek trying to either get reassurance that Craig still likes him, or that Tweek is going to be okay. 

That's why I'm still firm on my argument for his actions during FBW. He was never trying to get Craig to tell him that his actions were okay, he was just trying to get Craig to see his point of view. It's less that Tweek is trying to get external validation for the actions that he does, and more that Tweek just needs external validation for who he is. Since Fi people tend to be hyper-aware of how they think other people see them, this makes sense to me that he needs a bit of a self confidence boost more than he needs reassurance in his decision making. 

Tweek did not weigh the possible repercussions of him walking out on Coon and Friends, but he instead made his decisions based on what he felt and what he thought was right. In contrast to Kyle in the Crack Baby Association episode, Tweek was not defending his actions and trying to get Craig to tell him that he did the right thing. He made his decision, and stood beside it. 

A good point is raised about Tweek's actions with the main four. He quickly abandons his moral code when they thought they killed their teacher. My argument for this, again, was that his anxiety overpowers his use of his Fi functions, given that his anxiety and paranoia are separate from his MBTI functions. 

"It may take a long time to mull over their own beliefs to make sure they seem right. " If I had to argue, I'd say Tweek hasn't solidified his values yet. Heck, I don't think he's even had a chance to think about it, since he's so stressed with every other aspect in his life. And even if his values told him that he shouldn't be participating in it, I think his anxiety outweighs his desire to stick true to his values.

 I think his anxiety and cognitive functions are sort of separate, so anxiety does not define those functions, and the functions do not define his anxiety. So I believe that his paranoia will lead him to ignore his values because he's terrified of these other possibilities, but if you took away that anxiety and paranoia, then I think he'd be much more prone to having a strong moral code, or having the Fi function. 

Going back to having Kyle as a comparison, throughout the series, we see him end episodes with 'I learned something today', where he comes to a conclusion usually in an attempt to reconcile whatever conflict is going on. Similar to FBW, when Kyle learned that Timmy was trying to include all the superheroes, he quickly backtracked and apologized, trying to quickly resolve that conflict once he realized it was a bad thing. 

I'm also not saying Fe users have to be all good and all knowing. We regularly see Kyle abandon his morality and values, typically in an effort to get back at Cartman. He will stoop down to his level if it means he gets revenge, and while sometimes this means he gets the good, resolved outcome, it still means he put solving conflict over his own moral integrity. The evidence I can think of off the top of my head is the infamous "Why would you say horrible shit about gay people? " line that Craig asked Kyle. Can't remember the episode, but that's one example.

Because Fi and Fe are about how someone makes a decision, it's important to see Tweeks decision making process. The reason I still think he's Fi despite his other actions is because his first, immediate decisions do seem to be based on what he believes is right, and wrong. He didn't want to kill his teacher. He, at first, firmly decided that he wasn't going to be a part of the main four anymore because they thought they killed their teacher. The only reason this decision changed, is because the others quickly take advantage of his anxiety and paranoia, whether they realize it or not. By telling Tweek that he's going to be responsible, and that he might have to take the fall on it, Tweek's anxiety is kicked into overdrive, and overpowers his desire to make decisions based on his values. 

The argument on Fe vs. Fi is based on how they make their decisions, whether they consider the feelings of other people when making decisions, or whether they consider their own values and feelings when making a decision. Tweek considering other people's feelings outside of decision making doesn't necessarily make him a Fe, and I believe it's his anxiety that makes him ignore his values. 

Another example is, of course, when Tweek has the rocket launcher. He threatens to blow up the prints, unless he gets his friends back(except for Cartman). The reason I think this supports him being Fi is because Tweek isn't considering how the world will react and feel if they see Spielberg's premiere, but he's more concerned about whether he gets his friends back alive. He made a decision based on where his values lay, which was among his friends as opposed to saving the world from seeing this awful premiere. 

Now, going to extraversion vs. introversion… 

I did some more reading to see the comparisons. I might still be totally off-base here, but in my defense, I'm not finding an explicit difference anywhere. 

So I'm still convinced of the extroversion. He's had a history of coming to other people with his issues, and traits of extraversion are having an easier time figuring out their problems when they get to talk out loud and hear other people's input. He goes to his parents, and he goes to Craig. 

Tweek also typically directs his energy outwards, to focus on other people and things and situations, rather than internal thoughts and ideas. 

Tweek goes to Craig with his issues because he fits into the extraversion trait of needing to talk out his problems and receive outside input in order to figure it out. He does this with his parents, too, although his parents are much less helpful. 

I don't think extraversion vs introversion is about how many people he talks about his issues with. It seems to me that it's about where he directs and receives his energy from. 

Okay. Moving onto Te vs. Ti. 

So, research tells me that, "The Tertiary function can guide you toward areas of life you have avoided, areas that require skills you do not feel comfortable using. "

It also may not develop until later in life, so I'd dare say that's why I claim we don't see it being used much in the series. I don't recall seeing it being used in a more dominant function. 

Now, even though it may not fully develop/mature until adulthood, it still will show itself somehow in early life. "For ENFP's, it may affect them by making it difficult for them to be organized and follow through on projects. They may be forgetful, miss steps, or start and leave tasks unfinished. They can also struggle with maintaining objective logic and may have a hard time balancing their eagerness to pursue new possibilities with a logical mindset. "

I think this fits Tweek pretty well. We see him acting pretty disorganized, and we see that he struggled to completely follow through on his 'making hats' project for the Free Hat episode. I also see him consistently struggle to keep an objective logic when he's incredibly anxious. It may seem contradictory that it is described as an 'eagerness to pressure new possibilities', but I think it still matches how Tweek is always so quick to jump to anxious possibilities. This seems unhealthy, but again, I think of it less as signifying a Ne grip, and more as seeing it as his meth addiction/anxiety/paranoia taking and using his dominant functions for the wrong things. 

Te is supposed to consider the objectivity of the facts and details, but given that I believe it to be a supportive function, it means we shouldn't see it being predominantly used, and we don't, as far as I know. Tweek still doesn't look at things objectively, and even hates it when Craig gives him the objective facts. The Te tertiary function is supposed to aid an ENFP by helping them see the logic in the possibilities they think of, but because the tertiary function does not typically fully develop and mature until later, added to the fact that Tweek's unfortunate circumstances make him misuse his Ne-dom functions, we don't see that objective, logical thinking anywhere in him for the most part. That's why I see it as fitting for a tertiary function. 

This is a more solid document of the argument I have for ENFP Tweek, with most of it being developed after having some other people give some of their ISFJ arguments. Overall, it’s a super interesting argument, and I’ve learned a lot from it, but I do hope some of my arguments are convincing :)

[blueprint-han]

[Image ID: A black picture with the title “HOW TO SUPPORT FANFICTION AUTHORS” written in bold caps lock, colored with a winter forest picture. End ID.]

Well, this post has been made countless times, but I’m making one too because I’ve seen a lot of people say they’re new to tumblr and don’t know the whole “reblogging is better than liking” rule and other stuff. So without any further ado, here are ways YOU can support the fanfiction authors. Now keep in mind this applies to almost every author out there, not just the stayblr fandom, so if you’re a silent reader (or even if you aren’t), I advise you go through this post. Warning, this is a fairly long post going into detail, so yeah. I still expect you, the readers to read this, and if you’re a writer, feel free to lmk if i’ve written smth wrong or if you want me to add something! ^^

In this post I’ll go into thorough analysis of the pros and cons of each of the methods listed here and how YOU as a reader can show the authors whose fics you read more love and motivate them to produce content.

WARNING; LONG POST! GOES INTO A DECENT AMOUNT OF DETAIL. NOT EDITED, EXCUSE ANY TYPOS.

#1 : LIKING !

I think this is basic common knowledge, and a lot of people tend to do this. When you like the post, the author sees it, you see it, and if the author has their liked posts accessible (which majority of the time they don’t), and if someone deliberately goes to check it, then they see it. See why so many authors say just liking does nothing? Only liking says “Hey, I’m gonna tell you your story is not that good by simply liking it and not sharing it with other people. :D”

♯ PROS:

You’re telling the author that you've read their fic, and either you’ve enjoyed it to a certain extent, or you’re just saving it to read for later.

Likes are seen by you, the author and anyone who has access to your likes (which, most people don’t).

♯ CONS:

If you ONLY like, you’re not really helping the author’s work reach a wide audience because this site isn’t Instagram. Reblogging is the only way people can SEE our works. I’ll cover more on that in the next section.

In a nutshell, liking is good! But you should most likely use it in a combination with the other stuff I’ve listed below, because just the like itself doesn’t really do much in giving the author any feedback or interaction on their fics.

To clear shit up; I’m not talking about those people who don’t read the story or appreciate it in the first place. I’m talking about those who appreciate the fic, like it, but don’t leave any sort of feedback to show that.

#2 : REBLOGGING !

This is SO, SO important. I cannot stress on this enough. Let me explain WHY so many writers stress on reblogging content: 

Tumblr’s tag system is inherently fucked up, and has grown more so over the year. I’m not kidding, at first, the fic either used to show up in the tags or it didn’t, but now, sometimes your fic can be REMOVED from the tags because of,,, idk tumblr tag shit. Anyways, as you can see, it’s very demotivating for authors at that point, because the major way for people to find their content and expand their blogs has been blocked.  

Due to this reason, tumblr authors need to RELY on you, their followers to help spread their works to a wider audience. Now again, before you get me wrong, I’m not saying you ae forced to rb our works regardless of whether you like them or not. BUT, that being said, if you DO infact like the story, there’s no harm in reblogging, right? By doing this you’re indirectly telling the author — “hey! :D I liked your fic! Which is why I am gonna share it to my followers so they can read it too :D” Trust me, you’re doing nothing but helping the people who produce content for you to read. Seems like a worthy cause to hit the reblog button, right? It’s only a one, or maximum two step procedure.

Leave tags in your reblogs! Trust me, as an author myself and as much as I know from all my author friends, we oft check the tags of your reblogs to see if you found any part amazing or even if you have anything to say about the writing we put so much hard work into. Even a key smash or a “This was so [insert adjective] 🥺” is enough to leave a smile on your authors face. 

♯ PROS :

You’re !! Sharing !! Your authors !! Works !! This leads to them getting more recognition, so for the content they’re so graciously providing for free, you’re promoting their blog and helping them expand it.

If the tags are being a shit, which majority of the time they are, then you’re literally making an author’s day by reblogging! You’re showing them that you, a follower and appreciator of their works are willingly sharing their content because it deserves to be seen by more people. Again before any dumb people decide to attack me, i am talking about people who like the fic but don't bother reblogging and are silent/ghost readers. I am not forcing anyone to read anybody’s work.

YOU’RE MAKING YOUR AUTHOR SO HAPPY WHAT MORE REASONS COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT !! 🥺

♯ CONS :

Literally none, because as far as I remember no author is against reblogging of their works. It’s quite literally the way this platform functions. Reblogging is IMPORTANT.

#3 : COMMENTING/SENDING FEEDBACK !

This kind of overlaps with the previous section, but THIS IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT STEP !! When you leave feedback, you are directly giving the author something so much more valuable to them than high follower/note counts or money. Your feedback is literally our serotonin. I kid you not the number of times I’ve received a positive comment and smiled and it has made my day. There’s a reason youtubers (though not the best example, bear with me here because it was the only one I could think of) ask people to subscribe, like and COMMENT. The subscription is like a follow, the like is ofc like a heart, and the comment is equivalent to an rb with comments in the tags. 

You might argue and tell me that a comment is basically like an ask so the reblogging step isn’t necessary, but I’m sure 99% of you use YouTube and you know that more comments leads to people’s videos boosted in the stream/trending charts. This is what reblogging does. Reblogging shares the piece with other people like minded, which leads to a boost in reads. You are literally helping your author grow.

It’s quite literally the same thing as youtubers. Youtubers NEED validation to keep their content creation going, so do writers, so do other ccs on this site. This post is however, focused on WRITERS, so keep that in mind.

♯ PROS :

By doing this, you’re giving author valuable feedback! It’s similar to what you do in rbing with tags. Interactivity with their fics boosts their note counts and helps expand their audience, so srsly, now think of it: your one comment is playing such a massive role to help ccs create more content.

Imagine how much of a difference the note counts will be in when every person who simply likes after reading the fic, reblogs, leaves a comment and sends an ask. the note counts would be high on each and every fic, which is validation in itself, but your comments would inspire the writer so much more! Please, don’t skip the commenting part. Even a simple one like: “this is so cute!” is wonderful. 

♯ CONS :

Remember, if you’re gonna give constructive criticism (which I’m sure you all are smart enough to know if different from hate), make sure the author is okay with it. Authors need to be in a specific mindset and must be ready to accept criticism, so if you’re gonna give constructive criticism to them when they’re at a low point, it may demotivate them.

Just commenting, instead of reblogging and commenting in the tags/ reblogging and then leaving an ask in their inbox, while it gives validation in plenty, will not lead to the author’s work being spread. Therefore I suggest either reblogging and commenting in the tags or reblog and then leave an ask, or comment under the fic!

!! reminder; I am not saying that if you don’t rb and just leave feedback, your feedback has no value. We authors truly appreciate every bit of feedback, but this post is aimed to help you learn how to interact with and support authors, and make them feel more motivated, because the current scenario of liking and scrolling is taking a toll on their creative abilities. Take it from a person who’s been writing for a year.

#4 : COMMSIONING VIA THEIR KO-FI/OTHER APPS !

Before any of you attack me, let me tell you that this is not a step that is 100% necessary to do. ONLY donate if you can and if you genuinely want to, and if anyone is forcing you to pay for something against your will, you need to get yourself out of there.

Regardless, if an author has a kofi and you’re able to and you want to donate, you definitely should! It’s also a valid form of support.

#5 : ADDING THEM ON REC LISTS/ RECOMMENDING THEM TO REC BLOGS

This is such an underrated option, to be honest. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen my fic was recommended onto some rec list and it’s made me smile so hard. If you like some fics, create a rec list! They’re oft very popular amongst the fans too. Making rec posts is such a great way to share your favorite stories with others. 

Rec blogs! I’ve seen a couple going around, and needless to say they are a great way to get someone else to read your favorite author’s work whilst also giving them your own feedback. These blogs oft accept recs via a form or ask box, and they leave your feedback along with their own, or else they’ll oft tag the author in the feedback post, so look! You’re basically helping your author share their fic to many more people, because you’ve given them feedback and a reblog.

♯ PROS :

Validation! Feedback! Reblogs! More exposure! Helping a blog grow! Spreading love! basically a run down of the stuff I’ve said before!

♯ CONS :

Literally no con of this. Unless, a one in a million case, this author says they don’t like receiving feedback/being tagged, and I’m sure NO person has said this before, at least none that I’ve heard of.

#6 : FINAL COMMENTS; MISC !

When an author points out about how the interactivity is drastically reducing, don’t just give them blind apologies. Yes, you feel sorry for not interacting as much, we understand, but rather show that you’ll become a better content consumer through your actions. We need to see that we’re not just throwing words into a void and that people are actually trying to be better content consumers. 

Understand the fact that authors don’t get paid for this, and 99% of the time, these authors don’t take commissions either. They’re giving you novel worthy writings for free. Take Percy Jackson: You think the author would have felt motivated to write the subsequent parts, let alone two whole series based off of it if literally no one showed that they were interested? Rick Riordan has sales, he is being paid, there are millions of people and big agencies who provide him feedback. Now take that huge amount and simmer it down to an audience of maybe 10000 people This is what fanfic authors want. They don’t want your money, nor are they telling you to risk your lives for them. All they want is, a reblog, some tags, some feedback, some INTERACTIVITY.  A sign that they aren’t throwing fics into the void and that people actually like them, some motivation to continue. Seems fairly easy to throw an rb with some tags, right?

Don’t bother to tell me that we do this for ourselves and we shouldn’t ask for likes and reblogs and feedback, because 1) you are consuming the content that we “write for ourselves” and 2) writers post their content here for interactivity and feedback. We could just not post and write and save our fics in our dungeon drafts for years. But we choose to post to entertain the readers, the consumers. And we aren’t even asking that much in return.

Don’t give me the whole “I’m scared that authors feel that comments are annoying” excuse either because seriously this has been DEBUNKED SO MANY TIMES. Istg, in the nicest way possible, if you still think writers are annoyed by interaction and feedback, after so many posts, long rants have been posted as to how we’re not, then you must truly be living under a rock. There, I said it. Please stop thinking this way, I’ll say it again, AUTHORS ARE NOT ANNOYED OF FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, TAGS, REBLOGS. WE LOVE IT. Saying this is like saying that the audience in a theatre play shouldn’t clap when the play ends because the actors would find it noisy. 🤡

I’ve seen some people saying they have anxiety issues and such, so pls note that I’m not invalidating your condition. If you’re trying to be more interactive, I really appreciate it! If you can’t, that’s fine too. You’re trying.

But for the people who have no reason other than feeling lazy to rb and comment, your lack of interactiveness is not excused. Please. Tumblr is a reblogging site. If you’re gonna consume content like authors are some sort of machines, I encourage you to go get some more perspective.

This site is not Instagram or the satan bird app. Your likes are appreciated but frankly speaking, they do nothing to the author except tell them “Hey i read ur fic but i'm not gonna support u :D” and honestly, that is detrimental to their creative capabilities and mental health. 

DON’T FOLLOW AN ACC JUST TO MINDLESS RB THEIR SIGNAL BOOST POSTS AND THEIR REBLOGS OF GIFS AND NOT INTERACT WITH THEIR WRITING AT ALL ! Trust me, authors prefer a lower amount of interactive followers than a high count that doesn’t even give them any feedback. Again your follows are appreciated, but when you’re following, you know the type of content the author creates, so the author expects that the more followers, the more interactivity. These days, this is just becoming the opposite. So don’t do it! If you’re gonna follow to read, interact with their works. I promise, this will make both you and the author happy. A win-win situation.

In conclusion: SUPPORT YOUR FUCKING AUTHORS! THEY ARE NOT MACHINES THAT HAVE NO FEELINGS TO PRODUCE CONTENT FOR YOU! FICS TAKE DAYS AND DAYS OF PLANNING, PLOTTING, OUTLINING, WRITING, EDITING, MAKING TEASERS. SO JUST SHOW THEM YOU APPRECIATE THEM WITH AN RB. IT’S THE L E A S T YOU CAN DO.

I will be liking this post here written by the lovely @chaninfused​ and @scriptura-delirus​ . Please take time to read it because if you weren’t convinced by my arguments, you will see how much frustration we as writers face on a daily basis. Please, just show support. Here is the post by @stayndays​ about how to get more people to read your work, because it also has a note on reblogging. Please educate yourself, and put an end to this mindless consuming culutre and bring up some interactivity.

If you’ve read this far, I want you to go to two of your favorite authors and leave some feedback in their inbox, and tag me in it (either tag me yourself or ask the author to do so, they won’t mind). Show your writers that our words are taking effect and you are becoming better consumers. I mean it. I’m serious. I want every single one who reads this post to do this. besides valid reasons, if you’re lazy to do this, you’re a part of the problem. PLEASE get more perspective.

Also, feel free to add to this post! I’d love to read your thoughts too, remember to be kind though. And, if I think your rb is somehow contradicting my points and is bringing down the reason I made this post, I will politely ask you to delete your comment, because this post is about being truthful about the harsh reality of tumblr consumers and how we can change it. I’m sure none of you will let it get to that point, though. <3 love you guys. 💓

And, just a reminder, don’t just blindly like this too. Do what I said before, and while I am not forcing you, I’d appreciate your reblog, because seriously, it took me 3 whole days to write this, plus, I’m sure this will help more of your followers understand the fault in consumer culture. haha, that’s it! This post was way too long uff.

also, this is ur cue to not be stupid in my inbox. You have something to say? Think I worded smth wrongly? I’m sure it wasn’t my intention to do so, point it out with manners. 

[flameswallower]

Stimuwrite would be terrible for some people with some forms/causes of brain fog, because the program involves sounds, changing colors, etc. as you write, but I have very severe, largely treatment-resistant ADHD and it works like gangbusters for me personally when the primary problem I'm having is "I can't concentrate on writing long enough to put down more than a sentence or two at a time." It also lets you type in the dyslexia font, which I personally find easier to read at a glance than ordinary fonts.

Even when things aren't quite that bad, I work in short bursts. It's rare that I can write for hours at a time, so I don't try to do that. I usually only obligate myself to write for ten or fifteen minutes at a time, or until I reach 250 words, and if I want to go beyond that, I can-- if some kind of frenetic writing state overtakes me, as happens on a few occasions per year, that's fantastic, but I've learned I can't count on these and shouldn't resign myself to only making creative work in such states. If I'm working against a deadline or want to get a significant amount of writing done in a single day or find myself with a lot of energy and relatively few other things to do, I'll simply dedicate myself to doing multiple short writing sessions separated by a couple of hours each time.

The third thing that I do is a lot of thinking about my writing when I'm not actively working on it. I think about characters, plots, environments, structures, even the phrasing/construction of specific sentences while I'm showering, trying to go to sleep, waiting around at the pharmacy, lying in bed with a migraine, washing dishes, and so on. Not only is this fun, it is actually a way of working on projects-- by the time I'm sitting down to do the writing part, I often have quite a well-developed idea of what I want to do. It's just a matter of putting it down on paper. I really recommend that other people who have problems with sustained effort/concentration/work, but who are talented/easily absorbed daydreamers, make use of their daydreaming facility to develop ideas. I mean, I'm guessing a lot of people already do this, because most people lack the weird hang-up I had for years about my narrative daydreaming being private/embarrassing/not something I could or should share with other people. But it's worth putting out there.

For a variety of reasons, I find sitting normally in a chair to work uncomfortable and hard to tolerate. I usually recline on a couch or squat on my haunches while bracing my back against a wall (my laptop is on a low table or a stack of books in front of me if I'm doing the second one). If you've been making yourself sit at a desk to do work because you've been taught That's How People Do It, and that's difficult and unpleasant for you, I suggest experimenting with other positions and setups that might feel better/more natural/less exhausting physically.

I also recommend sometimes trying to write when you are in mental states where you feel like the writing won't make much sense, you're having trouble holding on to coherent trains of thought, etc. Don't do this if the experience will be upsetting or overly stressful for you, but otherwise-- you can get really interesting stuff this way, even though you may later want to edit it or re-work it! You don't have to wait until you feel like your mind is clear and you're writing in a way that makes conventional sense/is conventionally "good"/would be legible to other people to write. Ditto drawing, sculpting, whatever your medium is (though I feel like this is perhaps more obvious/intuitive with art forms other than writing).

pls ignore this is its too weird or too much labor, but i was wondering if you maybe had any tips or resources for ppl who have creative desires like writing but brain fog and fatigue tends to get in the way?

i do! it may not work for you bc people have very random/unexpected ways of dealing with this, but it's *very* common and there is hope :) [i think a lot of this is applicable across form, but i'm using "writing" here because it's what i'm familiar with]

one way is to be strategic about timing: this includes thinking about when you're least foggy/have the most energy, and/or the most "downtime" where there isn't anything in particular you need to do. many people wake up early so that they have alone time before their responsibilities. some people stay up late to write. i tend to do my daily writing (which I elucidate on below) in the evenings, around 7-10pm. whatever works, works!

relatedly: scheduling/routine is, for me, critical. i think it is for a lot of creative ppl. I write every day, in multiple ways: i keep a journal - i've done this since i was like 12, so it's as ingrained as brushing my teeth and i don't really think about it - and also work on some aspect of my current longest project [so, for the last 4 years, it's been the aforementioned second novel; for the 4ish years before that, it was Failure to Comply. i write other stuff during the daytime, of course, because writing is also my job(s). but if you're looking to establish a consistent creative practice, you don't need to be aiming for a certain hour or word count.

Instead: Aim for consistency and progress. Not perfection, not a "muse," not magic. There is no shame in making something that doesn't seem good, or that you end up deleting. in this particular instance, "perfect is the enemy of good" is 10000% true, and i think especially applicable to people who already experience external + internalized ableist ideologies on a daily basis. your art, regardless of what it is, should be a space where you get to make mistakes, change your mind, and learn new things. it should be something you can come to when you're tired, unsure, confused, scared, etc, even if it means just keysmashing and then closing your notes app for the day.

for me, having a daily practice, regardless of anything, means embracing the days where i write only one word and then despair, as well as the days i write pages. when i feel most depressed, in a very clinicized sense, i try to move from "everything i make now is going to be shitty :(" to "everything i make now is going to be shitty :)", not because i'm happy about it, but because....that's simply part of creating. everything is a bodily function. if you're not feeling good, maybe your poop will look weird. so too with writing. but you still do it. it can be mechanical. but it'll happen, and by doing it consistently, you give yourself the *opportunity* to locate insight hitherto buried, to have an idea creep up on your tiredself.

i guess in sum I'd say that the healthiest thing i ever did for my writing is something tantamount to body neutrality, which has also been an immensely positive addition to my set of frameworks for physical embodimindment. creative neutrality, i guess. this doesn't mean i don't tie my ego and personhood to work/productivity/quality. i mean, i totally do, and it sucks, but there we are. but it also means that i place that in a corner that does not touch my desire to chip away at something big, regularly. i make time every day to summon the urgency of whatever i'm working on, not because i'm proud of it at that moment, but because i want to give it another opportunity to give me something cool.

tl:dr: give yourself the gift of consistency and time, and don't be scared of making stuff that isn't good, or gets deleted, or doesn't make sense. write from wherever you want, physically, mentally, spiritually. give it the opportunity & even the expectation to happen and then work from there.

[ailuronymy]

Thoughts on the new discourse? Warrior cats naming conventions and rank names being straight up stolen from native American people? So many people seem to be... Straight up leaving the Fandom or changing all of their fan content and it feels very performative and, people not actually thinking critically and just being scared of getting "cancelled"? I feel like your opinions on these matters are very informed and well written so I wanted to ask given that this blog main theme is, well, warrior cat naming system and that seems to be the main issue of the new discourse.

This is probably going to get long, since there's sort of a lot to say about it in order to talk about this whole thing fairly and constructively, because from what I’ve seen there’s a lot of hyperbole happening, and panicking, and disavowing this series and fandom, and so on, like you say, and also some people genuinely trying to have complex meaningful conversations about racism in xenofiction, and also probably some bad faith actors in the mix--as well as some just... stupid actors. Kind of inevitably what happens when two equally bad platforms for having nuanced discussions--i.e., twitter and tumblr--run headlong into each other, in a fandom space with a majority demographic of basically kids and highly anxious, pretty online teens. I don’t mean that as a criticism of fans or their desire to be liked by peers and “correct” about opinions, it’s just the social landscape of Warriors and I think it’s worth pointing out from the start.  

If I’m totally honest with you, if not for this ask, I wouldn’t actually be commenting on it at all, because none of this is going to impact this blog or change how I run it in any way. But since you’ve asked and frankly I do feel some responsibility to try to disentangle things a little for everyone stressed and confused at the moment, because I know a lot of people look to this blog for guidance of all sorts, I’m going to talk about what I think has happened here, and how to navigate the situation in a reasonable way. 

Quick recap for anyone blissfully unaware: from what I understand, this post (migrated over from a presumably bigger twitter thread) has got a lot of people very worried about Warriors being a racist and appropriative series, and now are trying to figure out what ethically to do about this revelation. The thing I found most interesting about this screenshotted conversation is that it makes a lot of bold claims, but misses some pretty surprising details (in my opinion). If you do look critically at what is being said, here’s a few things to notice--crucially, there are two people talking. 

Person 1 says that a lot of animal fantasy fiction + xenofiction (fiction about non-human/”other” beings, such as animals) is frequently built upon stereotypes of First Nations and Indigenous people, and/or appropriates elements of Indigenous culture and tradition as basically set dressing for “strange” and “alien” races/species etc., and this is a racist, deeply othering, and inappropriate practice. This person is right. 

I’ve spent years researching in this field specifically, so I feel pretty confident in vouching (for whatever that’s worth) that this person is absolutely right in making this point. Not only is it frequently in animal fiction/xenofiction, but it’s insidious, which means often it’s hard to notice when it’s happening--unless you know what you’re looking for, or you are personally familiar with the details or tropes that are being appropriated. Because of the nature of racism, white and other non-First Nations people don’t always recognise this trend within texts--even texts they’re creating--but it’s important for us all, and especially white people, to be more aware, because it’s not actually First Nations’ people’s responsibility to be the sole critics of this tradition of theft and misuse. Appropriation by non-Indigenous people is in fact the problem, which means non-Indigenous people learning and changing is the solution. 

Person 1 offers Warriors as a popular example of a work that has this problem. Notably, this person hasn’t given an example of how Warriors is culpable (at least in this screenshot and I haven’t found the thread itself, because the screenshot is what’s causing this conversation), only that it’s an example of a work that has these problems. And once again, this person is correct. We’ll look at that more in a moment.

Person 2 (three tweets below the first) offers, by comparison, several more specious insights. Firstly, it’s really, really not the only time anyone’s ever talked about this, academically + creatively or in the Warriors fandom specifically, and so that reveals somewhat this person’s previous engagement in the space they’re talking into re: this topic. In other words, this person doesn’t know what has already been said or what is being talked about. Secondly, this person explicitly states that they “[don’t know] much about warrior cats specifically but from what I see it just screams appropriation,” which as a statement I think says something crucial re: the critical lens this person has applied + the amount of forethought and depth of analysis of their criticism of this particular series. 

I’m not saying that using twitter to talk about your personal feelings requires you to research everything you talk about before you shoot your mouth off. However, I personally don’t go into a conversation about a topic I don’t know anything about except a cursory glance to offer bold and scathing criticisms based on what it “just screams” to me. By their own admission, this person isn’t really offering good faith, thoughtful criticism of the series, in line with Person 1′s tweet. Instead, Person 2 is talking pretty condescendingly and emphatically about--as the kids say--the vibes they get from the series, and I’m afraid that just doesn’t hold up well in this court. 

So now that there’s Person 1 (i.e., very reasonable, important, interesting criticism) and Person 2 (i.e., impassioned but completely vibes-based opinion from someone who hasn’t read the books) separated, we can see there’s actually several things happening in this brief snapshot, and some of them aren’t super congruent with each other. 

Person 1 didn’t say “don’t read bad books,” or that you’re a bad person for being a fan of stories that are guilty of this. They suggested people should recognise the ways xenofiction uses Indigenous people and their culture inappropriately and often for profit. My understanding of this tweet is someone offering an insight that might not have occurred to many people, but that is valuable and important to consider going forward in how they view, engage with, and create xenofiction media.

Person 2 uses high modality, evocative language that appeals to the emotions. That’s not a criticism of this person: they’re allowed to talk in whatever tone they want, and to express their personal feelings and opinions. However, rhetorically, this person is using this specific language--consciously or subconsciously--to incense their audience--i.e., you. Are you feeling called to action? What action do you feel called to when you rea their words, despite the fact their claims are not based in their own actual analysis of or engagement with the text? It’s, by their own admission, not analysis at all. Everything they evoke is purely in the name of “not good” vibes. 

Earlier I mentioned that Person 1 is correct that Warriors is absolutely guilty of appropriation of First Nations and Indigenous people and culture. I also mentioned that they didn’t specify how. That’s because I think the most egregious example is in fact the tribe, which in many ways plays into the exact kind of stereotyping and appropriation of First Nations Americans that Person 1 mentions, and not the clans, contrary to Person 2′s suggestion. For instance, in addition to the very loaded name of “tribe”, there’s a lot of racist tropes present in how that group of cats is introduced and how the clan cats interact with them, as well as the more North American-inspired scenery of their home. It’s very blatant as far as racism in this series. 

When it comes to the clans themselves, though, I think it’s muddier and harder to draw clear distinctions of what is directly appropriative, what is coincidentally and superficially reminiscent, and what is not related at all. Part of this difficulty in drawing hard lines comes from the fact that, on a personal level, it actually doesn’t matter: if a First Nations person reads a story and feel it is appropriative or inappropriate, it’s not actually anyone’s place to “correct” them on their reading of the text. Our experiences are unique and informed by our perspectives and values, and no group of people are a monolith, which means within community, there will always be disagreement and differenting points of view. There is no one single truth or opinion, which means that First Nations people even in the same family might have very different feelings about the same text and very different perspectives on how respectful, or not, it might be. 

I’m saying this because something that gets said very often when conversations of racism and similar oppressive systems present/perpetuated in texts comes up, people frequently say: “listen to x voices.” It is excellent advice. However, the less pithy but equally valuable follow-up advice is: “listen to the voices of many people of x group, gather information and perspective, and then ultimately use your own judgement to make an informed opinion for yourself.” It means that you are responsible for you. The insight you can gain by listening to people who know topics and experiences far better than you do is truly invaluable, but if your approach to the world is simply to parrot the first voice, or loudest voice, or angriest voice you come across, you will not really learn anything or be able to develop your own understanding and you certainly won’t be making well-informed judgements. 

In other words, one incomplete tweet thread from two people who are each bringing quite different topics and modes of conversation (or perhaps gripes, in Person 2′s case) to the table is not really enough to go off re: making a decision to leave a fandom, in my opinion. In fact, I think in responding to anything difficult, complex, or problematic (which doesn’t mean what popular adage bandies it about to mean) by trying to distance yourself, or cleanse of it, will ultimately harm you and will not do you any good as a person. It is better, in my opinion, to enter into complex relationships with the world and media and other people in an informed, aware way and with a willingness to learn and sometimes to make mistakes and be wrong, rather than shy away from potential conflict or fear that interacting with a text will somehow taint you or define your morality in absolutes. 

So. Does Warriors have racist and appropriative elements, tropes, and issues in the series? Yes, of course it does, it’s a book-packaged series produced by corporation HarperCollins and written by a handful of white British women and their myriad ghostwriters. Racism is just one part of the picture. The books are frequently also ableist, sexist, and homophobic (or heteronormative, depending how you want to slice it, I guess), just to name some of the most evident problems. 

But does the presence of these issues mean it’s contaminated and shouldn’t be touched? Personally, I don’t think so. Given the nature of existing the world, it’s not possible to find perfect media that is free of any kind of bias, prejudice, or even just ideas or topics or concepts that are challenging or uncomfortable. I think it’s more meaningful to choose to engage with these elements, discuss them, criticise them, learn from them, and acknowledge also that imperfection is the ultimate destiny of all of us, especially creators.

I’m not saying that as a pass, like, “oh enjoy your media willy-nilly, nothing matters, do what you want, think about no-one else ever because we’re all flawed beings,” but rather that it’s important not to look away from the problems in the things we enjoy, rather than cut off all contact and enjoyment when we realise the problems. That doesn’t mean you have to only criticise and always be talking about how bad a thing you like is either, publicly admonishing yourself or the text, because that’s also not a constructive way to engage with media. 

As I said, there’s a lot to say here, and believe it or not, this is honestly the shortest version I could manage. There’s always more to say and plenty I haven’t talked about, but pretty much tl;dr: 

I don’t find Person 2′s commentary particularly compelling, personally, because I think it’s a little broad and a little specious in its conclusions and evidence, and I also suspect that this person is speaking more from their feelings than from a genuine desire to educate or meaningfully criticise, unlike Person 1. That’s not to say Warriors isn’t frequently racist and guilty of the issues Person 1 is discussing, because it is, but I don’t think this tweet thread is a great source of insight into the ongoing history of this problem in xenofiction, or Warriors specifically, on its own. I would recommend exploring further afield to learn more from a variety of sources and form your own opinions. I hope this helps. 

[stopeatingwhales]

real estate x damon albarn

THIS REQUEST WAS SO CUTE TYSM ANON <333

Pairing: 1998 damon albarn x reader

Warnings: none :))

Word count: 3.104

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Searching for a home to share with your partner is one of the most fulfilling yet extremely stressful experiences. To prior discussion and awareness of the reciprocity of feelings you have for one another, a mutual agreement is conformed in the idea of wanting to invest in a space where you both can start anew, and begin a segment in your lives which in hope can progress until the very last breath. From being in a relationship with Damon for quite a significant amount of time - and having him inhabit my apartment for many a year - it was quite transparent that we had both worn out the flat, to the point that it was wearing us down. To be able to start fresh, in a new space, grants the ability of us to create the life that we had always manifested together - notwithstanding the fact that we had loved where we had lived at the time, it was simply the element of growth and the need for a change between our relationship. As you get older, mature more into your thirties, simple doings like getting drunk every friday night after a long, dragging day of work and intoxicating your body with countless shots of pure ethanol, losing all ability of processing any cognitive skill, becomes more of an impediment than going out to release the burden placed on your shoulders from the entire week of pure hindrance - and not to mention the hangovers. If we had perpetuated ourselves in the same routine that had been occupied as long as the decade induced in our twenties lasted, not only would it morph a lifestyle of monotonous sadness, but it leaves no ground for the chance to mature, the chance to experience all else that this world, this life can provide. It defeats the purpose of life, as existence is never steady; it is a continuous development between life stages, and an inevitability. To not accept the philosophy of life, proves a lack of purpose in your existence. Life is fleeting from the moment a baby opens its mouth for its first cry, and to distract one’s self from the thought of the end, we comply with life as it blossoms.

Me and Damon were visiting the second home that the real estate agent had been showing us. It was beautiful; a much larger space in comparison to the apartment we had in the heart of Camden - a place where the life of the party never comes to a halt, so getting to sleep was quite a challenge some nights, as well as it being an actual house. We decided upon the fact that we should search for houses instead of another apartment as we had endured living in a one-floor apartment for years on end, and to be able to have more space where you could rest your feet, not have clutter at every corner of the room, would be a dream. As I wandered around the upstairs floor, I walked into the master room, where I had found Damon standing, gazing out of the window which conveyed the most picturesque landscape of freshly cut grass, accompanied with the sun’s glisten to allow the richness of the green pigment to blossom even more. It felt like a stupor admiring the beauty that was portrayed forth, like an over emphasised memory from your childhood, in which every little thing seemed to be so enticing, full of pure feelings of euphoria, where there had been not a care in the world for anything except your own - merely just that significant moment that had been playing out. From the repetitive reminiscence towards those specific memories, things seem to feel a little more bright, full, happy, than it had been before, as if it was your mind toying with the fact that you may not feel as elated as you were when everything had been handed to you from unconditional love and care. “What do you think of it?” I asked Damon, as I sat myself on the mattress laid on the bed frame.

His figure didn’t move from his admiration of the nature. “It’s alright,” he mumbled, just audible, before stepping away from the window and turning to face me, his back now resting against the warm glass surface. He seemed quite uninterested with the house itself, which had happened with the house we visited beforehand. All he seemed to do was pull faces or rest on the couch after looking around a couple times. “Let’s go visit the last place, see if we get anything better.” A hint of annoyance had been laced in his words, confusing me slightly. I had the urge to question him, see if there was anything bothering him, or if he had begun to doubt wanting to get a house together. The simple thought had shattered my heart a little, as if it had been trodden on by accident, though accidental pain seems to hurt the most. Attempting to brush the everlasting thought away from my mind, I nodded slightly, getting up from the mattress and walking out of the room with him.

As we reached the last property, it had only seemed as if things had gotten progressively worse in Damon’s demeanour. He walked around the building alongside me, leaving snide comments here and there about specific things that didn’t appeal to him from the interior. However, the home that had been presented to us seemed almost perfect for the both of us, a place that was created out of the utmost creativity and affection for the right couple to walk in and begin their lives together. This home was illustrated to have your heart sink into the ground, seep into the mud underneath as if it were quick sand and completely engulf your mind with it, a hypnosis so intense that regardless of the pricing you would sign any form sent your way. By having been with Damon for the past couple years, I knew him more than a reasonable amount to understand that there had been something else causing him to project such a detest towards our property-searching the entire day. There was not a single flaw in the architecture, as if the residence had been created as a welcome to Eden’s garden subsequent to your soul’s departure, except it had been built in the wrong heaven. A single step in the building had your jaw cascading to the wooden flooring, your mouth empty yet so brimmed with compliments, mesmerisation aching to escape your throat, though you could not muster any form of ability since it had been utterly hushed by the construction’s elegance that you didn’t want to damage any part from speaking, even in a mere whisper.

“What do you think of it?” I asked, my mind gaining déjà vu from the question I had repeated at every residence we had stepped forth into. We were wandering around the kitchen, which had an island separating it to the living room. It was a very large, open space, and the thought of not dividing rooms with brick walls, like the kitchen and living room, having them conjoined except separated with a countertop was very thoughtful. It removed the feeling of being trapped into such a small room, needing to wander through many doors twisting knobs and pushing the wooden frames in order to get into another corner of the premises, and made living much more free and easy. It's extremely draining by living in a space for many a year that it begins to close in on you, as if every single time you walked in it had gotten tighter, more smaller.

Turning my gaze to watch Damon wander around the living side of the room, I placed my hands on the countertop, sucking my cheek in as I attempted to think of something that may be bothering him, minus the stress of the entire house hunt we were doing today. Stress from work? Perhaps he got into an argument with a friend? Got up on the wrong side of bed? It was a pure mystery. My gaze was fixed on him until he connected eyes with me, a hand placed on his neck as his fingers grazed the back of it lightly, an attempt to relax himself. “It’s the nicest one we’ve visited,” he replied, walking over to me slowly, also scanning the large room as he did. “The amount of detail that went into designing this is mad.”

A small smile crept up on my lips as he stopped by the countertop, that now being the only thing in which dividing us at that point. “It’s perfect for us, don’t you think?” I asked quietly, admiring the craftwork that had been delicately carved into the ceiling.

“I think we should think over what we want before we make that decision,” he replied as our gazes matched once again. Looking up at him, a confused expression spread out on my face, but before I was able to speak up he had carried on. “Don’t take that the wrong way, but I don’t want us to rush into things and have us regretting something we could’ve easily thought of if we gave ourselves time.”

“We have spoken it out, haven’t we?” I questioned him, now taking a step back and folding my arms together. Everything about Damon today felt so off, the thought of him not wanting to share a place with me sinking into my thoughts again as I tried my hardest to battle it out of my mind. “You agreed that it was time for us to search for something new, together, and that’s what we’re doing, is it not?”

An exasperated sigh left his lips as he stared at the ground. At this point I had begun to get frustrated with his overall mood - this was supposed to be a fun experience together, but the feeling of him weighing the cons was more visible than his thought of the pros. “I don’t want to argue here, let’s just keep looking around.”

The build-up to the argument had seemingly debunked itself, at Damon’s command. Indeed, we carried on looking around, though this time I had decided to admire the place alone, which had been made very clear when I had pushed past him, not with much strength to cause damage, but enough to cause a point once I left the room. The upstairs floor was no different in beauty and elegance as the ground floor embodied. It would be a simple wonder to think how much time, dedication would be taken into creating such a masterpiece; it was so magnificent that you’d practically feel guilty for stepping foot inside. Glad I took my shoes off once I walked in, then.

After spending what seemed like all eternity having my eyes fixated on the embellishment surfaced all around, picturing what furniture would suit in far right corner, the middle of the room, what would hang on the wall, I headed to the ground floor, refreshing my memory of the delicacy that had been portrayed everywhere. My pace was slow, as if my mind was taking mental pictures of the palace to be able to look back in my memories for later, when me and Damon would discuss which place suited us the most. The market was quite tight at the minute, seemingly every person in the industry and in our lives growing up and deciding upon starting new chapters of their lives, which is why we were extremely lucky to be able to have such a place offered to us at the minute, surprising as it had not been taken by some conservative wanting to waste their money on a place where they probably wouldn’t walk inside. I saw the estate agent in the living room, who immediately made eye contact with me as I stepped into the room, a grin spreading out across her cheeks almost instantaneously. “Nice, right?”

“Oh, it’s absolutely beautiful,” I replied back, engaging myself in the ceiling’s artwork once again, thinking for a moment before choosing the right thing to reply. My thoughts had then been distracted from Damon’s footsteps heading towards the pair of us. He stood beside me as I gazed up at him, swallowing lightly before I knew what to say. “I think we’re going to head home and think about everything first, before we make any big decisions.” I added, my gaze never leaving Damon’s side profile.

“That’s completely alright, you have until the end of the week to make your decision, I’ll put this place on a reserve.” She replied, followed by our thanks as we walked out of the elegant building and headed home.

~~~

Me and Damon hardly spoke after we got home as I needed to finish up some work that was overdue from my job. Damon had nothing else planned for the rest of the night, so he stayed in the living room, providing no extra distraction for me to prevent any extra pressure or stress so I could be able to complete everything as quickly as possible. I overheard the television in the background, and the occasional phone ring, every call being for Damon it seemed as his deep voice followed after the repetitive rings of the phone line had come to an end. Oftentimes I envied his freedom due to his occupation being a musician, however a lot of the time his job seemed quite enclosing and tiring. Having to constantly be away from home, not being able to have an easy way of stability from the constant movement to a different country every couple of days, sometimes even every single day. Though, arriving in a new country every morning does seem quite fun.

After I had finished up all my work, I changed into my pyjamas and headed to the living room, welcoming me to the sight of Damon, who had now dozed off on the couch, his hair quite messy from shuffling around in the same spot, his skin illuminating a golden glow, courtesy to the warm light being omitted from the lampshade beside him. Part of me didn’t want to wake him due to how relaxed he looked, though I knew he would be more comfortable waking up on a mattress rather than an old leather couch. I turned the television off, quietly tiptoeing around his sleepy body, then crouched down slightly to shake Damon so he would wake up. “Come to bed, love.” I whispered, causing his eyelids to flutter open softly as he stretched his arms out unintentionally, conveying his exhaustion, a small smile spread out across his lips once he was greeted by me in his sight. Helping him get up, I allowed him to walk into our bedroom in front of me, turning the light off after we both left the room. There was no light on in the bedroom, except the shine of the moon seeping onto the bed covers due to the curtains never being shut. Once we both made ourselves comfortable under the duvet, we turned our bodies to look at one another's, Damon’s tired eyes evident due to the eyebags surrounding them, though he was more awake now after moving around a little. “I know you’re tired, but what was wrong with you today?” I asked quietly, regretting speaking as soon as the sentence had rolled off my tongue.

A large sigh escaped his throat before mustering a response towards my asking. “I’ll be honest, the houses were very nice, but I didn’t like any of them.”

“None of them? How come?” I replied, attempting not to raise my voice out of shock.

“Because I want to start this part of our lives with a house big enough for us to raise children,” he admitted, staring deeply into my eyes. “I want the perfect house for us, but I haven’t been able to find it at all, and it’s so frustrating.”

A grin spread across my face as I reached to embrace his face with both my hands. "Damon, it doesn't matter the style of the doors, how big the living room is, or whether there's two or three bathrooms," I began, allowing my thumbs to lightly graze over his cheeks. “What matters is enjoying our time together, and the lives that we'll lead together as parents, raising our children,” A large beam spread across his face from my reassurance, compelling me to give him a soft peck on the lips before carrying on. "If you can picture the house of your dreams, it isn't your dream house. Your dream house is something that you shouldn't be able to picture, something that you can't fixate upon in specific, because it carries such beauty that you will only know you have achieved, once you've got it."

“Does that apply to everything?” he asked, mumbling, his voice now soft as if the love of the moment had been seeping out of his mouth.

“I’d say so, yeah.”

“Then that means I’ve got the girl of my dreams.”

“Oh shut it you softie.”

“What? It’s true, love.”

“I can’t wait to start a family with you.” I mumbled absentmindedly, a light sigh leaving my mouth, repeating all that had just happened these past couple minutes.

“Likewise, darling,” he replied, bringing his lips to my face to kiss my temples gently, the feeling of his kiss lingering on the skin, my heart filled with pure elation and adoration for the man in front of me. “Spoke to your mum today.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, she called whilst you were doing your work so I just told her you were busy, then she decided on having a conversation with me instead,” he replied, taking a hold of my hand and playing with my fingers, his gaze focused on the action. “I love your mum.”

A laugh rumbled out of my throat. “You say that every time you speak to her.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I love your mum more than you do.” he jokingly replied.

“What?” I scoffed, a smile spread on my lips. “I never said that!”

“Well you certainly implied it.” he joked, raising his eyebrows as he awaited a response.

“Shut up, go to sleep.” I laughed, partly serious as the fatigue from all the walking we had done began to kick in my body.

“Only if you give me a kiss.”

“I just did!” I answered back, shifting my body so my back was to him.

“You’re the worst.” he replied, annoyance laced between his words, causing my smile to widen.

“Thanks, lovely.”

[pangtasias-atelier]

Dragalia Digest

Well, I come after several months with a story for a game that I’m sure none of y’all play lmao but I am not immune to stoic green dragon man that got me desperately playing Dragalia for a few weeks lol

This was originally meant to be a short story but it just kinda got longer and longer so here’s a 4.8k story about a really, really, really big Midgardsormr. Though the fat content isn’t like the entire story cause I just do that for some damn reason lol

WARNING: This story is a fat kink story. So like, if some rando finds this and you still click on this, that’s on you~

“Uhh, were we expecting any visitors?” Careful to shield his eyes from the blazing gaze of the sun, Ranzal peers up at the sky. Looming over his much thinner and shorter companion, the built mercenary stands besides Luca.

“None whatsoever,” The blue haired bunny archer stares at the small shadowy speck in the distance. His arms remain crossed as his line of vision follows his partner’s. “And it’s just the two of us guarding today,” A grin spawns across the width of his face from his thoughts. He reaches for his quiver and delft slots an arrow into his bow. “So, we’ll shoot now, ask questions later!” His shit eating grin plastered onto his face, his tongue sticks out a fraction of an inch.

“We ain’t doing that,” Ranzal swings his open palm down onto Luca’s head.

Luca’s bow and arrow immediately plop onto the floor as he nurses his aching head. “That hurt!” Gritting his teeth, his eyes return to the ever-encroaching shadow in the sky. He continues to grumble under his breath about his pain all the while he watches.

Ranzal ignores all of Luca’s comments, his mind more concerned with the vaguely familiar approaching figure. The encroaching figure’s speed far faster than either could ever hope to achieve running, it only takes a mere extra few seconds for Ranzal’s brain to process the figure. “You almost shot at one of the Greatwyrms, you idiot!” The crisis averted regardless, Ranzal still picks a fight with Luca for his recklessness.

“You’re the idiot who doesn’t know his own strength! It would’ve all worked out regardless!” The two facing each other, Luca on his tip toes in a poor attempt of sizing himself up to somewhat compare to Ranzal, a feat that Luca has no hopes in achieving, they completely fail to ignore the complete disappearance of the day’s calm weather. Light breezes of winds pick up, the blades of grass and other fauna swaying in the sun’s light. Their shouting match more important, their focus only returns to their original issue upon the two almost losing their footing from a particularly strong torrent of wind.

Their eyes widen as the wind Greatwyrm Midgardsormr flies above them by only a few feet; their eyes only widen further as a figure jumps off said Greatwyrm.

“Looks like I finally reached my favorite descendant’s humble abode,” Alberius outstretches his arms with a cheery grin. His eyes roam across the expansive open field only to find nothing but interspaced buildings.

“Euden ain’t here right now,” Ranzal decides to clear up Alberius apparent confusion.

“They all left for some training along with all the dragons, so it’s just good ol’ Ranzal and me here guarding the place,” Luca’s chest puffs out in pride.

“A fine duo for guards indeed. Then I will gladly help defend the castle grounds. It is the least I can do during such an impromptu visit,” The sun seemingly shines directly behind Alberius, his entire radiant figure gleaming in the light as his hair flutters in the wind behind him. However, he suddenly clears his throat. “Though my partner here is in need of-” The ground trembles upon Midgardsormr’s descent. Though a crash landing is more apt, a sizable indent in the ground where he let himself fall. “Mids just needs some rest, so a room would be much appreciated,” His voice picks up in speed and pitch. Midgardsormr glares at Alberius for using his nickname.

“The place where dragons usually hang out is all empty so I can show Mids over there while Ranzal shows you to a room in the castle,” Midgardsormr’s glare towards Alberius intensifies.

“No need,” Alberius raises an open palm in the air. A small chuckle escapes him with a small grin. “If I wish to foster better relationships between dragons and humans, then what better way to show those ideals than cohabitation? I shall rest and watch over Mids,”

“If you could point us to a building that would be much appreciated,” A light strain mars Midgardsormr’s voice yet he keeps a straight face throughout his fatigue.

“It’s that group of buildings over there,” Ranzal points behind himself, large similar looking buildings not too far off in the distance.

“Thanks,” With a quick wave of goodbye, Alberius takes a quick pace ahead of the trotting Midgardsormr, the Greatwyrm keeping a speedy pace as well.

“They sure are in a hurry,” Luca huffs to himself. His brows furrow.

“They’re probably just tired from all the flying, that’s all,” Ranzal smacks Luca in the lower back. “Now, back to patrolling,”

Luca dutifully marches beside Ranzal. The duo once again all alone with their unexpected visitors resting, the two joke back and forth amongst each other, Luca regaling about possible new tricks to use on their teammates upon their return. Their patrolling turns out to be more formality than anything. Soon, the sun begins its slow descent and the two call it quits. Upon their return to their rooms, the two pause in their tracks as a quick clang rings out.

"Questions first, shooting later," Ranzal stresses with a whisper, his eyes staring daggers at Luca. Luca simply sticks his tongue out. The svelte archer nimbly makes his way towards where the noise came from as Ranzal follows behind him.

Luca immediately stops upon turning another corner. He makes no noise when Ranzal bumps into him from behind from the unexpected stop. Listening in on their intruder, Luca's ears twitch. A clear lack of concern from their intruder is evident from the turned-on lights and humming, Luca remains still. The sound of rolling wheels adding to the noise, the intruder finally steps out.

Alberius pushes out a cart chock-full of varying plates of food. With a quick flick, he turns off the lights before bustling on down the hall with a pep in his step.

"Must have company over or something," Ranzal scratches the side of his head.

"Regardless, we're following him," Luca announces, his shoulders tense.

"Luca," Ranzal outstretches his hand, the limb hanging in the air above Luca's shoulder, Ranzal not used to hearing the archer sound so serious.

"I was saving that carrot cake for a rainy day," Luca cries out, wrapping his arms around Ranzal's waist as he buries his head in Ranzal's chest. "It's not fair,"

"Dumbass," Luca clinging to him for his dear life, Ranzal simply carries Luca by his ass. Following Alberius from a distance, he follows him all the way back to the buildings the dragons sometimes reside in.

Alberius none the wiser, he even leaves the door open.

"Quit your moping. It's not that serious," Ranzal pries Luca off of him and puts him back on the ground. "They were tired when they got here, so they were probably also low on supplies,"

"But so much food? Including my carrot cake," Luca dejectedly stares at the floor.

"Well, Midgardsormr is a dragon so he probably needs to eat a lot. I'll go and buy you a carrot cake at the market another day, my treat,"

"Deal!" Luca immediately cheered up figure perks up. "I've never seen a dragon eat before, so I'm not passing up this chance," Luca drags a willing Ranzal behind him. Though the two immediately stop at the scene that awaits them.

Midgardormr’s true form no longer in sight, he currently takes advantage of his human form. The change between forms is of no shock to Ranzal or Luca, Midgardsormr having elected to use his human appearance often, his new figure is the kicker.

Dwarfing even the size of his towering, built draconic form, Midgardsormr’s human form is, for a lack of better words, fat. The rooms constructed with dragons’ large frames in mind, Midgardsormr’s lard happily occupies every available inch. So many engorged, heavy rolls make up the entirety of his bloated body. A decent sense of proportions is somehow maintained despite Midgardsormr’s elephantine figure. His stomach large enough to smother a trio of beds pushed together, the pale oceanic blubber oozes on down onto the floor. An overwhelmingly large amount of fat swaddling his body, the lower roll making up a portion of his stomach is smothered by the upper tube of fat right above it and even smothers and obscures his navel. The middle roll of fat is wider to the point that one would find it easier to grab someone by the waist than to grab its love handle. The roll of fat right above it not as massively wide, it instead rests comfortably atop the roll below it. Still rather wide as well, the extreme width of said roll’s love handle is comparable to that of Ranzal’s bicep. His chest impacted from his new size just like his crushing gut, two bulbous sagging mounds of fat reside where a chest once was. Each breast alone is larger than a person’s head. Each one larger than even Midgardsormr’s bloated face. Both tits splay out to the side, the uppermost roll of his stomach making a fine bed for his pillowy breasts as they noticeably sink into his billowing fat. Connected to his great doughy chest is his numerous amounts of neck folds and extra chins, each smooshed up against one another and the lowest one even spilling onto the upper crests of his breasts. Connected to that is his face, most of the space taken up by his blubbery over bloated cheeks sagging with fat. His face hard to make out in the vastness of his corpulence, the main indicator of his face lies with his vibrant long mop of rich green hair that cascades down in between the crevices and folds of fat lining his back. His hair flowing onto his tail, his tail is completely invisible from the front with so much fat blocking the view. Two horns stick out on top of his head, though those are no longer as prominent as they once were with fat pooling around it in all directions. Midgardsormr’s arms bulge out on both sides of his face, the two pillar-like appendages forced at an angle from the bunched-up fat from the sides of his stomach. His arms are completely useless with both being unable to budge a fraction of an inch. The upper portions of his arms surpass the width of a tire. His elbow basically absorbed in his own arm fat, his forearm is far less as wide as his arm yet is still equally swaddled in so much fat so as to be incapable of movement. His wrist follows suit, the doughy circular mass of fat affixed to his forearm while also nearly swallowing his fingers. So bloated, the sausagey fingers are basically the only portion of his body that Midgardsormr can move, albeit for short periods of time. The entirety of his arms billowing in lard, his shoulders are practically nonexistent from being buried under so much flab. His back is covered in a litany of rolls just like the rest of his body; the flabby landscape is akin to a rolling field with the numerous mountains and valleys for folds of fat. Each fold cascading and jutting out alike, none of them compare to his couch sized ass cheeks. The shapeless lard stuffed ass pools out onto the floor behind him. His tail runs down the middle of his ass, the once large tail absurdly small in comparison to the extreme width of his ass. It rises into the air like the rest of his figure, so much bad placed on top of more fat to give the appearance of rising dough. His ass jutting behind him, his immovable elephantine legs jut out on both sides of his body. His great stomach takes up as much space as needed, his legs splaying out at somewhat of an angle as a result. Bits of what could be described as his inner thighs seep underneath his stomach however, most of his legs press against the doughy sides of his gut, rolls on his thighs and rolls on his stomach intersecting to create new folds of fat that seemingly mesh together. The entire length of his barrel shaped legs presses against his stomach with his fat having nowhere else to go. His thighs caked in vast amounts of fat, the width of one thigh alone surpasses that of even the largest of doorways. His shins sink into the mass of fat that is his thighs. His feet are in the same predicament, most of them swallowed by the quicksand of fat. Every single inch of Midgardsormr packed with copious, overly exaggerated piles of fat, Midgardsormr’s mammontine body is a caricature of a caricature.

“I brought you some food Mids,” Alberius is ignorant of his two guests. Unable to wheel an entire cart up the rolling hills of fat comprising Midgardsormr’s body, he instead carries the serving platters in his hands. He carefully navigates the oceanic pile of blubber that is Midgardsormr’s body, obviously used to doing so numerous times. Trekking upwards, he perches himself atop Midgardsormr’s breast, nestling his back directly in between the folds of fat where his arm and necks and cheek meet. Alberius rests the extra serving platter on Midgardsormr’s free breast. “This’ll help you get back your energy,” Alberius pats his round chipmunk cheeks with a smile. Alberius pauses as he notices his silence and the bright red blush adorning his face. “What’s wrong? You’re usually begging for-”

“We-” Midgardsormr wheezes out in response. “have guests, “He averts his gaze away from the dumbstruck Luca and Ranzal.

Alberius whips his head around. His eyes go wide. “I’ll be right back,” Patting Midgardsormr’s arm, he climbs down. Luca and Ranzal still outside, Alberius first closes the door as he steps outside. Or at least tries to, Midgardormr’s blubbery stomach wedged in the middle of the doorway. “Hello,” Alberius starts off rather meekly, the smile on his face only half formed. “I’m sure this isn’t something you expected to see,” He gives a weak chuckle before letting out a sigh. “Look, please keep this to yourselves. Mids is rather embarrassed about the whole thing,”

“How soft is he?” Piping up, Luca completely ignores Alberius as he stares behind him.

“Huh? Well, he’s pretty soft, I guess?” Alberius fumbles his words.

“I doubt he’s more than just ‘pretty soft’,” Luca walks past Alberius, his eyes purely focused on the soft, fleshy pile of lard in front of him. His grubby little hands press down into Midgardsormr’s stomach, his entire wrist and more sinking into it. “This is way better than soft! Hey Ranzal, you gotta try this!”

“What do you think you’re doing!” Voice rising in intensity, Midgardsormr panics as Luca lets himself fall into his stomach. “Stop your ridiculousness,” Midgardsormr attempts to squirm, however he only succeeds in wobbling the entirety of his fat around, rolls of lard sloshing into one another.

“He’s even got a vibrate function,” Luca teases with a content sigh.

Ranzal still with Alberius, he merely sighs. “So, curse got him or something?” He gestures towards Midgardsormr.

“Not exactly,” Alberius hesitates, focusing on using all his brainpower for what to respond with. “He, just kinda really enjoys human food,” Alberius shrugs, awkwardly laughing.

“Oh,” Ranzal stares at Midgardsormr who is struggling against an eager Luca.

“Yeahhhhh,”

“So, you’ve been feeding him so much he got this big?” Ranzal raises a brow.

“W-well we both enjoyed it so it just kinda happened! Only his human form is affected from all his eating so we kinda reasoned it’d be fine, and it is. He looks rather dashing like this if I do say so myself,” Beginning to regain his gushing nature over Midgardsormr, Alberius gives a confident grin. His teeth gleaming, his eyes are closed as he speaks next. “So, I’d be grateful if you don’t say a word to anyone about this,” A response not given, Alberius opens his eyes. The spot in front of him devoid of another person, Alberius turns around.

“You sure do like to eat huh? Well, lucky for you, I’ve got plenty of recommendations for good stuff,” Ranzal in front of Midgardsormr’s oozing stomach, he grabs a serving platter full of meat. “Looks like you probably know way more about food than me at this point,”

“Great idea, Ranzal!” Carefully navigating himself off Midgardsormr’s overly plush and soft, cushiony stomach, Luca joins Ranzal in fetching him food. He focuses more on grabbing sweets and treats rather than the hearty filling of meat like Ranzal.

Alberius stands with his mouth slightly agape. Not expecting such a rather positive reaction from the two, his confused eyes gaze up towards Midgardsormr. His eyes gaze back down at Alberius and instead of confusion plastered all over his face, embarrassment mars the wide, doughy landscape of his cheeks.

“What do you two think you’re doing?” A bit of panic seeps into his voice as he stares wide eyed at the two overeager men. Encumbered by the mountainous pile of flab making up his body, his only hope for assistance is Alberius, the man too surprised to help him out.

“Giving you a helping hand,” Ranzal plops himself down where Alberius once was. Holding his tray with a shocking amount of delicacy, the overflowing tray manages to avoid a single spill as its holder makes itself comfortable in between the crevice of where Midgardsormr’s chins, arms and chest meet.

“Yeah! Hafta make sure you’re nice and full; you’re our guest afterall,” With an abundance of cheer and pep in his voice, Luca gladly takes a seat on the other side of Midgardsormr akin to Ranzal’s position. “Your partner sure brought you a ton of food. It must take him forever to feed it all to you. We're just speeding up the process,”

“I do not mind the time it takes for Mids’ appetite to be sated. His stomach rivals the depths of the hungry sea and I have placed it upon myself to aid him,” Alberius gloats to himself, proud of his nonsensical statement. “Though on the other hand...” Alberius turns his attention even further away from Midgardsormr’s predicament as he finds himself increasingly lost in his own thoughts.

“Alberius!” Midgardsormr shouts, a slight huff to his voice from the mere effort. “Do so-” The rest of his sentence becomes muffled nonsense as Luca shoves a forkful of his carrot cake into his mouth.

“See, he’s fine with it. Just relax already, big guy,” The serving tray resting on his lap, uca pats Midgardsormr’s tube of fat for an arm.

A generous portion of cake placed into his mouth, zero words are needed to coax the embarrassed, reluctant dragon. His hunger always creeping up on the back of his mind, he obediently chews on the mildly sweet and moist dessert. Despite the heaping helping of cake, it only takes him a few moments for it to all go down his greedy gullet. A slight chill escapes his voice as he speaks next, a clear, obvious contentment to his bashful face. “I am not-” His sentence once again ends up rendered pointless with another serving of food offered right to his mouth, this time by Ranzal.

“If ya got time to complain, then ya got time to eat,” Ranzal grins and watches Midgardsormr chew through the half portion of steak, his bulbous cheeks wobbling to and fro from the simple act of eating. Ranzal leans back into the comfort of Midgardsormr’s arms and cheeks, his bulk sinking into a fair amount of his plush body.

“I,,,,” Quickly finishing the second offering, Midgardsormr struggles to get a coherent thought out, his stomach doing most of the thinking for him. His half-lidded eyes switch between Ranzal and Luca. Even that movement is groggy and sluggish, as if any sort of movement is foreign to him. “I’m hungry,” Huffing out the words, the last portions of his embarrassment scream at him, yet his stomach thanks him as more food finds its way into his cavernous mouth.

“Happy to help, big guy,”

“All you had to do was say something,”

Midgardsormr finds himself unable to even come up with a retort to either of them, his mind simply focusing on the delectable dishes offered to him as he gobbles them all down. A generous portion of food enters his mouth only for another to be promptly stuffed inside the instant he finishes the former. Ranzal and Luca offering the barest of times in between each offering, Midgardsormr finds zero complaint in such a speedy stuffing. His oceanic gut churns as it craves more and more food, the numerous servings of food already stuffed inside him merely a start meant to whet his appetite. Human food having such an effect on him since his very first taste of the cuisine, he simply found himself unable to get enough of the food. Alberius far too eager to feed him, Midgardsormr’s appetite directly grew alongside his waistline. With two people eager to stuff him full of such delicious food, his stomach yearns for more. As when Luca finds his tray devoid of any food, Midgardsormr mentally whines at the minimal break in pace, Ranzal’s speedy stuffing still not enough. Or when Ranzal goes to fetch him more food as well upon Luca’s return, the two planning their switches to keep a steady pace of food going into his mouth at all times. And he eats it all willingly. Far too willingly, his body basically begging for every morsel they toss his way. Until the food ends up all gone, an entire cart’s worth of food able to serve as a veritable feast stuffed inside the expanse of his stomach. A bit of a huff escapes past his lips, his flushed rounded cheeks huffing and puffing for air.

Alberius remains completely ignorant to the current ongoing events. The rather loud huffs coming from Mids and the increasingly loud churning in his stomach falls on deaf ears. He merely paces around a bit as he continues to mutter to himself. “It does take me a rather long time to feed him,” He paces around a bit. “And that’s just for one feeding,” Alberius’ concentration only breaks upon hearing Midgardsormr’s needy voice.

“Alberius,” Mids whines. He breathes heavily, the entire mass of food sitting comfortably in his stomach. A tiny spackle of food smears his lips and cheeks.

“Yes,,,” Alberius stares wide eyed at Mids. He instinctively steps forward a few paces before he ends up right in front of Mids’ stomach and places a gentle hand on the upper lip of one of his many rolls.

“I’m hungry,” The statement leaves his lips as plainly as he thought of it, his aching stomach craving and wanting for me.

“No problem! I’ll serve you,,,,” Turning to the cart, he freezes mid step. His mind races as he comprehends that the entirety of the cart has been devoured.

“Don’t tell me you thought that was enough to fill him up,” Luca chides as he cheerfully lies on top of Midgardsormr.

“He’s been practically begging all this time. Seems like he’s been holding back quite some time,”

Hearing the implication, Midgardsormr goes to speak only for him to find no words, his face flushing a bright vibrant red.

“Mids,,,” Alberius elects to speak instead. His own face matches the intensity of Mids’ blush. “I’ll bring you all the food I can!” Storming off in a rush, a fervent intensity in his step.

The overall rather silent atmosphere of the night ends up disturbed a few minutes later as Alberius’ soft grunts sound out. His figure approaching, he comes with two carts this time alongside a bundle full of an assortment of bread. “This was,” Alberius takes a pause to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he takes in several gulps of air. “This was everything I could find,” A radiant smile illuminates his face before he goes to place as much food as he can on a serving tray. Upon grabbing as much as possible, he climbs up the roll ridden hill that is Midgardsormr’s body. He gently moves aside Midgardsormr’s mane of green hair before sitting on the plush rolls of back fat. Able to get a better view of Mids’ face, he peers down at him with a gentle smile. He brings a bread roll to his mouth, Mids’ devouring it whole. “You should’ve told me you haven’t been feeling full as of late. You always brushed me off when I asked about you being so tired often,”

“I’ve been eating way too much lately,” Mids takes another bread roll. “You’ve been spending so much on food just for me,”

“That’s it?” A small snicker escapes past Alberius. “Seriously?” His snickering erupts into laughter. “Mids, it’s more likely that you’ll eat everything before I run out of money,”

“You don’t have to be so blunt,” Mids murmurs.

“I’m sorry but it’s true. And if you’re worried about me spending too much, just know that your happiness is worth more than anything else,” Bubbling laughter still escaping him, Alberius reaches for more food with a renewed vigor. “Now, to make sure you actually end up full tonight,”

His fear turning out to be completely mundane, Mids holds back his remark at Alberius’ placating yet loving remarks. Both from embarrassment and from having his mouth being stuffed with food. The two’s conversation over, Ranzal and Luca get off Midgardsormr to grab some more food as well. Not having been used to two people feeding him yet adjusting to that quite well, he finds no issue in adjusting to three people impatient to stuff him. His cheeks caked in fat, the jutting mounds of flab hide the ridiculous amounts of food stuffed inside his hungry maw at all times. Barely able to keep up with the supply of food, his mouth sluggishly gives each dish a few chews before swallowing it to make room for the next batch of food coming his way. So much food packed inside, the individual flavors and textures jumble together. Yet his addiction to human food is all the same, Midgardsormr greedily devouring it all while still wanting for more. His stomach is so vastly bloated that even as he slowly begins to feel his aching hunger subside, the hill of fat appears no different than before, zero tautness in the blubbery expanse of his gut. However, before he can fully claim himself as full, Alberius’ loving face peers down at his.

“Sorry to say, but we’re fully out of food,” Both hands gripping the tip of Mids’ horns, Alberius leans down for a quick peck, his face neatly slotting itself between all of Mids’ fat. “Did you end up full at least?” Both Ranzal and Luca gone, the two having left after confirming there was no more food in the entire castle, Alberius goes to make himself comfortable. He lies down in between the jutting crevice of Mids’ chest where each moob juts out to the side. He rests his head right on Mids’ multiple folds where his chins and necks mold together.

“Almost,” Mids admits, a slight bit of sadness sounding in his voice.

“Wait, seriously!?” Alberius’ face turns a violent tinge of red. “That’s kinda hot,” He admits as his hands rub at as much of Mids’ expanse as they can reach. “Then next time I’ll make sure to get you enough food to where you’re begging me to stop feeding you,” A small yawn makes it past Alberius’ lips. The infectious yawn worms its way into Mids’ mouth before he lets one out too; the entire expanse of his body jostles and jiggles from the action, Alberius taken along for the ride as the human bed shakes beneath him.

“You better,” Mids merely replies, the overtaxing churning of his gut making him rather drowsy.

“Once we make it to Hinomoto I will,” Alberius lazily pats whatever fold of fat his hand rests on. “If we leave first thing in the morning, we should make it in a few days,”

“Deal,” Letting out one final prolonged yawn, Mids begins to snooze off, his entire body rising and falling with each breath he takes.

Come morning, the two guards find zero trace of their visitors besides a completely barren kitchen and a hefty bag of gold.

“So, what’re we gonna say happened?” Luca scratches the side of his head as he stares at the vacant room where Alberius and Midgardsormr once were.

“We go out for drinks, then we replenish the pantry,” Ranzal happily holds up the bag of gold in his hand. “Then we split the rest that’s left,”

“Deal!” The two head off on their merry way to enjoy their day, yesterday knight a pleasant experience decided to be kept as their little secret.