#friendship is not an abusive relationship

[summertimesadnessirl]

Except it doesn't work.

This is actually a key concept in patriarchy!

Women are intended to serve as the civilizing force.

The morality police.

The moral compass.

Women allow, men test.

Men who are in the patriarchy will consistently value the opinions of their male friends and prioritize male friendship groups, their hierarchy, and their bonding rituals over the women in their lives while also consistently laying the responsibility for fixing the emotional wounds caused by those friendships.

The form that most abuse from patriarchal men takes is specifically either mobbing women by repeatedly exposing them to the same messaging over and over by groups of men or guilting women into thinking that they are being unreasonable or too demanding or that life is actually too hard for them.

It's not that men's lives aren't hard.

It's that when those men talk, all the complaints consistently circle back to the idea that the reason being a man is hard is that women will not take pity on them and consent to sex they don't want or relationships they're not interested in just to make them feel better.

The sense of aggrieved entitlement serves to shift the blame on women for speaking out about the things that they have experienced, or create the narrative that the job of society is to make ways to trick women into sex or relationships that they don't want in order to prevent depression, neuroticism, anti social behavior, etc. In men.

This isn't a secret. It's literally a verbatim narrative that men circulate in covert ways. The male loneliness epidemic is radicalizing young men. Not to volunteer at nursing homes or animal shelters. Not to call for more mental health support. Not to call for more paid time off so that the average person can spend more time with their loved ones. Specifically, the main thrust of the article is "if women don't fall back in line men will become violent predators." When I was younger, this was often presented with examples from ancient Greece and Rome? I forget the guy. There was a Roman historian who had this idea that young men were only interested in creating radical social change in ancient Rome because too many of the wealthy older men had too many wives and concubines. Jordan Peterson used to trot that guy out. It doesn't matter. The ancient Romans thought owls were vampires, bro.

But it's just the same thing. Last week I saw this thing on reddit where some guy was posting that the male suicide rate is higher for short men.

And I don't want that. I don't think that's a good idea. But is "Give me sex" or "give me a relationship you don't want or are not ready for" something I am going to be prepared to do with my entire life, potentially, because of the implication?

Part of rape culture is the idea that men can't control or regulate their own emotions and that women can. Women are supposed to be independent, mysterious, not ever seek attention, ashamed of wanting validation. Women are meant to find it easy to follow all social rules and to also covertly influence and help the people around them to follow social rules through hints that help them to save face. Women are supposed to avoid leading men on. They are supposed to avoid being too deceptive in their beauty regimen. They are supposed to avoid being too demanding of men and making it too hard for them to get whatever it is they want. They are supposed to completely repent and change their entire character if they change the type of relationship they want- the woman who has had casual sex is supposed to pretend to be ashamed and that all the sex she experienced was a sign of unhealed trauma and she's a good girl now and she knows that dating men who please her sexually or that she is physically attracted to or that is too nice to her or is too smart or too good to be true is a red flag, actually. She is supposed to buy into the idea that "a healthy relationship will be boring" because what makes relationships exciting is somehow abuse. She is supposed to settle down, not up.

There's this thing I notice a lot.

A thing where a lot of women who seek advice from other women for things like feeling exhausted and burnt out from doing too much of the household maintenance are asked if their spouse has adhd or autism, as if rather than getting those things treated or seeking self help advice for those things if they impact your ability to take care of yourself, the solution is just to ask your partner to do them. There is a form of this question that will be leveled when both partners are the same age and both partners are neurodivergent.

Yes, it is nice when you can be nice to people and help them get deradicalized. But the people who do that type of work professionally have support networks and professional training. And sometimes you can be nice to someone and it helps them. But the more you do that, the more likely it is that you will be targeted by people who want to hurt you or silence you or shut you up, or that this particular piece of the patriarchy where people use your desire to help people and be kind to them and give them the benefit of the doubt against you with the intent of making you believe their way of thinking.

It cannot be a social norm that women owe men sex, commitment, babies, etc no matter how they are treated in response to giving those things to prevent social collapse.

It cannot be a social norm that men get to abuse women by proxy by threatening to hurt other women or other marginalized people if women do not comply.

It also cannot be a social norm that people are expected to be kind to people who are exhibiting radicalized behaviors and also that people are constantly accusing one another in moral purity witch hunts as a way to isolate them from support networks so that if someone tried to help someone who attempted to befriend people in order to try to see if they could help them see another way results in creating a situation where they have no recourse if they are targeted by extremist groups in retaliation and agents provocateur who try to use their old support network against them.

There actually are a lot of male voices on the left including men who specialize in anti manosphere content, mentorship to men who feel like they need positive older men to talk to as role models, men who talk about why toxic masculinity hurt them in the past in ways that don't have to do with relationships, people who were amab and who aren't men talking about what that experience of growing up with people trying to force masculinity on them is like, and teams which include men and women as friends and colleagues and even some that are married or dating.

But this talking point survives because it helps to radicalize women into misogyny by trying to get them to take accountability for the behavior of misogynistic men and also encouraging them to doubt their own experiences or their own rights to their own story and to the community of other people with similar experiences by telling them that they are somehow poisoning men. They are responsible for taming them.

posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.

those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.

radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.

ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!

"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.

it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?

[insomniakisses]

Maybe Home Isn’t Far Away At All (Aitana Bonmatí x Lioness!Reader)

Part one - The Begining Of Something New

Warnings/Notes: Slight physical abuse, Arguments, Slight portrayal of mental health issues.

You had been a player at Arsenal for many years, having trained at the academy before getting the call up to the senior team. You’d easily made friends within the team, a lot of them being your fellow Lionesses. You had grown particularly close to Arsenal’s queen herself, Leah Williamson, and with her friendship you had gotten close with many of the older teammates.

If you weren’t with Leah and Lia, you could be found laughing with Beth, Steph, Katie, and Caitlin or causing havoc with Kyra. Not to mention the many times you’d sit just talking with Manu or in the dinner hall with Lotte and Alessia. Before Viv’s departure from Arsenal, you often sort her out too, particularly when you wanted to read quietly or take a quick nap.

Then there were your relationships outside the club, you were close with a lot of the lionesses, of course the girls previously mentioned, then the others through both your natural friendliness and their connection to your Arsenal teammates.

Most of the girls were easy to befriend, all the girls eager to welcome you when you had got your call up way back then. Of course, you had known the Arsenal members beforehand and known of the others through playing against them. Alessia and Ella vastly became your friends after seeing how well you got on with Mary, their teammate, and often you would join them to make silly TikTok’s or to joke around. There was never a dull moment with them, especially with Tooney’s knack for cracking jokes.

You had met Lucy on one of your first days, she had been quick to help you find your way around and offered guidance if you asked, something you had been eager to accept much to the older girl’s amusement. Leah had told you that you were like Lucy’s little puppy a joke that quickly made its way around camp much to your embarrassment and lucy’s amusement. The girls dubbing you “Pup” from then on to further annoy you, though Lucy most often simply called you “Kiddo.”

Speaking of your Arsenal teammate, Leah was who introduced you to her best friends Keira and Georgia. The former of the two was a little harder to befriend due to her being unsure of what to think of you. However, a swift talking to from Leah about how nice you were and how reliable and good of a player you are softened her resolve and soon you were always laughing and joking with the trio. The four of you chatting complete rubbish and finding the simplest of things hilariously.

As for Niamh and Bethany the two were quick to tease you eagerly making digs due to club rivalries though it was clear that they didn’t care at all that you were a die-hard Arsenal girlie. At least not while they were in camp, there growing friendships with you wouldn’t spare you any hard tackles, teasing or defeats by them come next season.

Then came the kids, as you called them, Aggie, and Grace. You had immediately offered support and help when they first moved onto the team. You remembered how you felt on your first day how daunting it had been. You remembered the crushing pressure you had placed on yourself and wanted to make sure the two of them were okay and had all the support they needed. You were very fond of the two thinking they were the sweetest and such hardworking girls.

--

You were nearing the end of your 4 year contract with Arsenal, having no plans to leave you had hoped to simply renew your contract and continue with the cosy life you had made for yourself. You were comfortable in your flat close to Leah and Beth, easy traveling distance from the training grounds. You had the most supportive and loving friends a girl could ask for, what could go wrong? A question you had regretted even thinking when you woke up this morning to an email from the club detailing that they wanted to meet. The email was brief and to the point they wanted you to come in that afternoon and discuss the ending of your contract. You tried to shake of the impending feeling of dread that filled you to your core, surely, they just wanted to discuss your renewal, there’s no way after all the years you’d dedicated to them they’d just sell you off… right? Of course not! You shook your head ridding yourself of your doubts deciding against bothering Leah or Beth with your worries, briefly debating asking Viv what she thought before backing out. You didn’t want to bring something up and risk upsetting her, due to her own recent departure, especially if it was nothing.

You quickly got ready, finishing your food, and rushing to shower and change into your gym wear planning to do an extra session at the training grounds since you’d be driving over anyway. The drive was fast, it always was, though something about today made it go impossibly quicker. The walk from your car to the meeting room felt like the blink of an eye, you were sitting in front of the head coach before you could think.

Your leg bounced as you sat in the chair, your fingers drumming against your thigh and your lip between your teeth as you chewed at it a sinking feeling in your chest as the words fell from his lips.

“-So, it is with a heavy heart Miss Y/n that we must not accept a renewal of your contract… We just don’t see where you fit into our plans going forward…” He went on, only half of his words truly sinking in, “… Few offers…. Barcelona…. Accepted…. Sorry...”

The rest of the meeting was short, you getting the information of your Barcelona transfer and the dates of when it would be made public knowledge. Not that you paid much attention simply nodding through your tears as he went on. You were on autopilot, the planned gym session long forgotten as you climbed back in your car, driving home in a blink before collapsing into bed not bothering to pick up your phone. The fact you should let the girls know not even coming to mind.

--

Two days. That’s how long you gave yourself to mope, wallowing in self-pity as you ignored the world. But Monday was here now, and you knew you couldn’t miss training, it would be unprofessional to do so. People move clubs all the time, you had to accept that your time at arsenal was up. As hard as that was to hear. Your morning routine was a blur, you spent it internally monologing and practicing what it was you were going to say to the girls, to Leah. You knew she would take it the hardest, but you also hoped she could understand after all it wasn’t like you were the first of her friends to leave and there’s no doubt you wouldn’t be the last.

When you pushed open the door to the changing rooms you were met with the usual chatter and buzz that came from the rowdy group of girls you called teammates. Usually, you would join in on the jokes and teasing but today you stood there dressing into your training gear quickly before scanning the room for Leah, only she was already halfway out the door when your eyes found her. Great. You huffed, quickly racing after apologising absent mindedly as you stumbled over someone’s bag, the only thought in your mind telling Leah before management did or the post went up.

The rest of training went a similar way, you trying to talk to her and something coming up. She was either doing treatment, being pulled for a chat by the staff or busy in training to the point she was dead to the world. You only hoped you could catch her after your shower, having gone in the second training was over and speedily washed and changed complete oblivious to the huddle around Leah in the corner of the changing room or how they were staring at a particular post from the Arsenal account.

It was only when you awkwardly shuffled in front of them shakily asking Leah if she could talk now that you realised what was wrong. The glare she shot you send a shudder down your spine as she leapt to her feet.

“Tell me your fucking joking!” She scoffed flipping her phone to show you, and you paled immediately recoiling and the sheer anger on her face. You looked to the others for help, but they all held their own expressions of anger or betrayal.

“L-Lee” you chuckled backing up slightly and she growls a little, and you swear you have never seen her so angry. At least not so angry at you, or anyone within your circle of friends.

“Tell me,” She chuckles darkly grabbing your shoulders a hard, hard enough they would bruise. It brings a pained whine from your lips, one that goes ignored by your best friend. “That you didn’t fucking leave Arsenal without talking to us, to ME!” She shoves you hard and you go stumbling back steadying yourself on the wall as you start trying to defend yourself.

“I-I-I- Leah! No- I didn’t want to- I was going to tell you! I was! You just-“ She raises a brow her features in utter disbelief her eyes full of anger, or was that… Hatred? You go to grab her hand, but she acts on impulse punching you in the face, hard enough so you stumble further back. A few of the girls gasping, Kyra moving to help but Steph grabs her shaking her head silently her mouth open slightly as Leah continues.

“I- I- No- No- UGH you sound like a fucking CHILD!” She laughs, her remark leaves you staring at her watery eyed in shock. One of your hands clutching your cheek as your lip wobbles. You don’t know how you feel from the pain in your cheek to the sheer embarrassment that fills you as you stand there like a lost scared child in front of the girls. Some turn away hurrying to continue to change and leave to avoid what’s happening, Leah has turned away completely ignoring your entire existence as Beth and Alessia help calm her down.

“Well? What ye waitn’ for?” You hear Katie yell, “Ye clearly not welcome, don’t embarrass ye self.”

Your cheeks flush as you feel your embarrassment grow when you realise you are still stood there, in a room of girls that obviously didn’t care what you had to say. They all thought you were a great joke. You scratch at your neck, an anxious habit of yours that you had picked up young and kept into your adulthood.

You kept your head down as you grabbed your bag, rushing to your car. You drove home straight away needing to get out of there, and fast. But the second you got home the dam broke, and your tears fell freely and loudly as sobs racked your whole body.

You didn’t know if you were crying from embarrassment, physical pain, or emotional pain. Thinking logically, it was more than likely all three. But right now, you couldn’t think about that, you couldn’t really think about anything. You lay there for days crying and whimpering as your body filled with shame and heartbreak.

You hardly realised how much your phone had pinged, messages from the girls expressing that you had blind sighted them. That out of respect to Leah and considering your lack of respect to let them know you were leaving, hell the fact you had told them you planned to renew, was just something they couldn’t look past right now. You planned to shut your phone off right then and there and melt away into the bed and just never get back up, and you would have done so had you not seen the next wave of texts.

Luce 🥉💙

Hey Kiddo, heard you were going to Barca! You couldn’t have told me yourself huh! Well don’t worry your little head, I’ll tell Ona to look after you, I think you might have met briefly before... But if not, don’t worry she’ll pick you up from the airport next week. I know you would have asked Keira... but after hearing about Leah and you from girls…

Luce 🥉💙

Anyway! Just don’t blow it yeah? Barca actually has standards you won’t get minutes just cause your best friend is Vice Cap. 😂

You roll your eyes at lucy’s message of course shed find a way to make a joke of it, she always managed to know when you needed her to cheer you up. Sending her a text of your appreciation and a slight jeer to her talking about standards and then joining Chelsea, knowing she knew you honestly did not care where she played because she’d thrive anywhere. You opened Niamh’s message next, already knowing she’d be taking the piss just as much.

Niamhy 😎💙

Really Y/N? You Couldn’t beat us at Arse-enal, so you just HAD to jump ship to Barcelona huh? 😂

No But good luck you big Idiot! And if Williamson gives you any more shit, I don’t mind Sorting it you know that 😏💪

You laugh properly at that, knowing that she fully would punch Leah if you asked her to, she really was that sort of friend. You were quick to reply that assuring her that you didn’t need any more drama, and you just wanted to get on with what was shaping up to be the transfer from hell already.

Ags 🦫💙

Barcelona? REALLLLLY? If you wanted a blue kit, you should have joined us, you know we always have our eyes on good players like you babe 😘

You chuckle when you read Aggies message the girl, ALWAYS flirting with you any chance she got. She had since the moment she had decided you were her friend during her first camp, and you covered for her when she was late. But the both of you have zero feeling for each other, it was just always amusing to get reactions out of the girls when you would quote on quote “be all over each other.”

You were about to close you phone and drag yourself for a shower, so at least when you inevitably slept the rest of the day away you could at least claim you had gotten up when you got a series of notifications. You went to Grace’s messages first.

Gracie 🌳❤️

Y/n!

OMG!

WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!?

OH, NVM Tooney says you didn’t tell anyone…

Apparently Alessia is still pissed…. But Ella says she hopes you find what you’re looking for over there…

BUT

Y/N!! I’m actually gonna miss you! Good Luck!

You chuckle at the young United player’s messages, she really did have a heart of gold, and you always found yourself in awe of just how kind and thoughtful she was. Sending her back your own message, assuring her you’d visit and your place in Barcelona would always be open for her.

Then came Bethany’s Message. It surprised you honestly, the two of you were friends. You talked at England camps and were never shy from offering her help or training with her. But the thought that she might reach out had never really crossed your mind. Reading it though, you weren’t sure how to respond other than thanking her and assuring you’d not take any shit from your ex-teammates at Arsenal.

The BFG 😄🩶

Hey Y/N, I heard your transfer caused a little riot at Arsenal… I’m Sorry if they aren’t being supportive. You have to do what is best for you tho! And if they decide to be bitches next camp just come with me, yeah? 😊

The last message had stumped you originally until you read the first message, quickly changing the contact.

Unknown Number

Hiiiii, Its Ona! Lucy gave me your number I hope that’s okay? 😊

Ona 💙❤️

So, I need the date of your flight, the time you need picking up and then when you are here, I will sort everything…. Since Lucy has made a plan... 😂

She was realllllly worried you know… 🥺

Shed KILL me if she knew I told you so SHHHHH 😂

You smile as you read the girl’s messages, you’d gotten the impression she was a caring girl through Lucy’s lovesick rambles before, but seeing it made you realise just how nice she really was. You'd made a mental not to thank Lucy for leaving you in Ona’s care before shooting off a few replies to Ona. Details she’d asked for, a few teasing messages about Lucy, and your thanks and hopes that you weren’t bothering her. Your worries quickly brushed aside at the girls next set of messages. The reassurance of the messages made the pain in your heart a little lighter, and you found a soft smile settling on your face as you got up to shower.

--

The next week was spent packing and making final arrangements for when you would be over in Barcelona. Ona and Lucy being absolutely amazing through the whole process, they helped you with anything and everything you needed. With Lucy coming over to your apartment telling you what you would and wouldn’t need to take and Ona clearing out room in her guest bedroom and making sure her house was well equipped for the two of you.

You liked Ona quite well, at least the version of her you had gotten to know over the texts with her and of course the joint face times with her and Lucy. That didn’t, however, mean you weren’t still terrified about the move. You knew every detail, Lucy’s plan was of course thorough and well thought out. She’d never let you go to a new country and join a new team without any help or support. But with the day of your flight nearing, you just couldn't shake the feeling that everything in your life was going wrong. You couldn’t help fear that you’d be miserable in Barcelona.

The day of the flight you were a bag of nerves, your leg bouncing as you waiting to board your flight and once you sat in your seat you were restless, mind going a mile a minute as you debated just catching a flight right back to England once you landed. No. You couldn’t do that, your job was here now, and you’ve come all the way there anyway. Not to mention the weeks planning with Lucy and Ona and it’s not exactly like you could just let them have waisted all that time and effort.

Once you’re off the plane you grab your luggage and make your way through the airport to where you and Ona had arranged to meet. Once your eyes locked onto her you could see her waving enthusiastically, a grin plastered on her face. You chuckled hurrying over to her, surprised at the eagerness and force she hugs you with.

“Y/n! I am glad you got here okay! Let’s get you back to mine, yes?” she hums taking your luggage from you before you can protest and leading you to the car.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, mentally psyching yourself up. With an affirmative nod to no one but yourself you step forward, following your new roommate. A step forward out of the airport and the first step into a new life. What could go wrong?

[rubiehart]

LOOK AFTER YOU…

pairing: jj maybank x bsf!reader

summary: an alternative universe to my own bsf!reader, where her parents aren’t supportive of her and jj’s relationship and the consequences of that.

warnings: graphic description of injuries, mentions of physical, mental and verbal abuse, underage use of tobacco, hurt/comfort.

a/n: literally came up with this in ten minutes and binge wrote it in an hour, wasn’t even initially gonna be based on any song but this one just fit so well so why no lol. i guess this is kinda the start of my comeback for the new year, hope you all love ♡︎

♪ Look After You - The Fray ♪

Honestly, JJ didn’t know how he ended up dating the girl who’d been his best friend since elementary school, how sharing beds after a long day of surfing in middle school turned into them smushed up against each other only three years later, limbs tangled and breath mingling, completely drunk off of each other, completely enamoured by the other like it was the first glimpse.

He knew she was a bitch sometimes, he knew she was sweet sometimes, but only ever around him and when they’d completely stripped each other of every wall they’d put up, emotions raw and throat’s even more so from whatever had gone on with their own parents in the place they were supposed to call home. Neither of them knew the meaning until that night.

That one night that changed the entire rest of their lives, for better or worse? Neither of them knew. The night when they both separately hit rock bottom. Absolutely nothing to lose, now. The lowest of the low. Hell.

She’d just been kicked out by her parents for good, and it really was official this time. Something stupid she’d done with JJ that really wasn’t as serious as they were making it seem, but it seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, the final push that made them force all their walls up against JJ, but they were a team, two halves of a whole, so in her eyes, if they were denying JJ they were also denying her, and she didn’t have time or the energy to deal with people like that, so she up and left that night. Sending JJ a quick text before shoving her dying phone in the pocket of her battered shorts and setting off to where she knew he’d go to first.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ’s situation was similar, something simmering on a low heat in Luke’s body for a few days previous, a few too many pills popped and he was ready to burst, and who better to take it out on that his sixteen year old son? No one, supposedly. This is how JJ ends up shoving open the door to the wooden lodge he’s supposed to call home, body aching as he forces himself down the steps, stumbling on an already bruised leg, until he reaches the edge of the lawn of the Maybank residence. The last thing he hears is the raw, blood curdling yell of his father, ‘Run and pray I don’t find ya, boy!’, the blood rushing in his ears and the soft beating of his combat boots against the dead grass, a baffling contrast to the absolute war in his mind.

His bruised legs carry him all the way across the island, the only thing in his mind is her, and it’s the only thing keeping him on his feet, head spinning, as he continually tells himself, ‘Just a little longer, J’, ‘A little longer than you can take a break.’ He doesn’t let himself stop until he gets there, lungs gasping for a breath of fresh air as the wind rushes past his ears, legs aching and stinging but he fights it until the image he’d been imagining comes into view through the weeds of the marsh. The lighthouse.

He’d found her on the rocky island, as expected slumped against the rocky wall of the structure, red and white painted chipped to hell. She was wearing an oversized black tank top, assumably his, the usual pair of denim shorts, and some beat up sneakers, hair falling in front of her eyes, cigarette already burning between her lips.

It’s late, the moonlight bathes her body, forearms resting on her knees, friendship bracelets dangling from her wrists and brushing against the grazed skin of her legs. He wordlessly slumps down next to her, groaning softly as his beaten body hits the rocky floor, a streak of white hot pain passing through his chest.

She obviously senses his presence, it’s completely un-ignorable. She makes brief eye contact with him in the pale light, a warm glow casted over her face from the flame at the end of the cigarette, highlighting the tear marks down her freckled cheeks, now dried and assumably sticky in the soft wind of the late night.

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, and neither does he.

That’s one thing that was so special about them, even before they’d gotten together and were just best friends with insane sexual tension, they could always read the other’s mind without sharing any words, could read each other fluently with just looks and body language.

The toe of her beat up sneaker digs into the rocks scattering the floor, and he watches her from the corner of him eye, chest still heaving, her head falls back against the concrete wall of the lighthouse, exhaling into the cold night as she passes off the burning stick to him. He notices how her fingernails are painted shimmery purple, or were, now they’re all chipped and her fingernails are bitten.

He accepts the cigarette, the familiar bitter tobacco and smoke slip past his chapped lips, gash on the lower corner re opening as he inhales. He couldn’t care less in this moment as they both sit wordlessly in the moonlight. She could practically feel the tension in his shoulders and the inevitable tightness in his chest, maybe this cigarette wasn’t the best thing for him right now, but everyone’s got their way of dealing, so she keeps her mouth shut for once.

He glances at her through his peripheral, pulling his legs up into a similar position to her, arms aching as he rests his forearms against his bloody knees. His hooded eyes frail over her tear stained cheeks. She’s tough. Tougher than anybody he’d ever met. He knew not to push her to talk. She’d talk when she was ready, and he wasn’t exactly eager to tell her about what went on tonight, either.

Her softer fingers brush his calloused ones when he passes it back, taking a drag and holding it in her lungs, letting it burn, because in this moment she wants to hurt, the pain is almost a comfort.

She exhales, smoke clouding his image of her for a second as she passes it back off to him, the orange glow lighting him up for once as her lips part to speak.

It’s raspy, like she’d been screaming, or crying, or both. He assumes both because he knows how it is in her house, much like she knows how it is in his. The precise reason why she doesn’t question the cuts on his cheekbones, or the grazes on his knees and elbows, and knows that there’s bound to be a ton more all over his body, concealed by his threadbare shirt and cargo shorts, curtesy of his deadbeat father.

“Got thrown out.”

Her voice pierces the bitterly cold wind that blows, blowing his sweaty, blonde tresses every which way, he lifts a hand to cover the end of the cigarette, blocking it from the strong gusts, the silver of his rings glinting in the orange glow.

He nods once, taking a hit as he takes in the information, he’s not all that suprised though, it was only a matter of time, he knows they’d been waiting for anything to happen to get rid of her for good.

“Same here.”

He says with a soft chuckle, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes and she doesn’t wonder why. He doesn’t want her to know the extent of it though, he doesn’t want her to know how bad it gets. Doesn’t want her to worry.

A small smile graces her lips, the skin stretching tight from the cold, licking over her lips once as she glances at him. She doesn’t even know why, she’s got absolutely nothing to smile about, sixteen, homeless, not even a dollar to her name, but just a glance at him smiling lifts a weight off of her, like maybe things weren’t going to be so bad.

She takes the cigarette back from him, mock forcefully, a ghost of a smirk still lingering as she takes another drag, shorter this time, sucking and blowing before speaking again, forearms adjusting on her grazed knees with a silent hiss, teeth gritted.

“What for?”

He lets out a bitter scoff, staring at his shoes so he doesn’t have to meet her eyes. The moonlight is making her look a fallen angel, all soft and pretty but still a little rough around the edges, just like him. He shrugs like he doesn’t know, pretending like he doesn’t know she can read him like a book.

“Same old bullshit.” He mumbles around the cig, taking a second drag since she’d passed it back, like he was trying to drown out the memory. She scoffs, mirroring his own reaction. Two halves of a whole. She can’t stop her eyes from wandering to his side profile, illuminated by the soft amber glow of the flame, highlighting the slope of his angular nose, the chisel of his cheekbones, already blooming with black and purple splotches, but he’s beautiful to her nonetheless.

She forces her eyes away and nods. “Same.” Picking at the chipped polish along her nails as she glares out at the horizon, the waves lapping ever so quietly at the rocky shore, the light from the lookout flickering dully above their heads.

He huffs softly, shaking his head, passing back the cigarette with trembling fingers.

Of course that was the reason, on her end anyway, and without her explicitly stating it he knows what her ‘same old bullshit’ is. He had pretty much known from the start that her parents wouldn’t be supportive of their relationship. He was a troublemaker, a bad kid, the kind of boy parents warned their daughters about.

He looks up at her, fiddling with his fingers between the gap in his bent knees, blonde hair flopping over his sweat slicked forehead, tickling at the gash above his eyebrow. He studies her profile as the glow of the cigarette lights her up. Even with her hair messy and her eyes red rimmed and her eyeliner smeared down her cheeks, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of them, the gravity of the situation hitting them both at different speeds. Two homeless, empty pocketed sixteen year olds, only their love for each other keeping them above water. Dodging whirlpools and massive swells with just each other to stay afloat. She digs the toe of her sneaker into scatter of rocks again, the soft clink of them the only thing heard other than the soft lapping of waves and their breathing, which had now synced.

He keeps his eyes on her, studying her and taking in every single detail in the moonlight. He can see every single freckle on her skin, every single eyelash. She’s perfect. Gorgeous. An angel amongst a sea of demons. He leans in closer, gently knocking his knee against hers.

“We’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

He mutters under his breath, so close she can feel the warmth radiating off of him.

She turns her head, hair falling infront of her black rimmed eyes, framing her blood rushed cheeks in the moonlight, nursing the fading cigarette between her fingers. She nods once, it’s small but it’s there, and it’s all the reassurance that he needs that they’re gonna be okay.

She leans a little more into his touch so they stay close, shoulders occasionally brushing and knees pressed together.

“Yeah.” She breathes out, a small smile making its way onto her lips.

He’s tempted to reach for her hand, to tangle his fingers in hers, to hold her as tight as possible for as long as possible, because she’s all he has left, and he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold her close, she’ll disappear like every other ounce of hope in his life.

But he doesn’t know if she’s okay with being touched right now. He knows she can be sensitive sometimes when she’s like this, closed off and thinking. So he keeps his hands to himself, not wanting to overstep. Instead, he just lets himself lean into her a little more, head tilted a little to the side to give her more than enough space if she wants to lean her head against his shoulder like she does sometimes. He’s making it clear that if she needs him, he’s here. Always.

Then, almost as if reading his mind, her hands finds his, soft skin brushing callouses along his pinkie finger, it’s hesitant but it’s not accidental as their fingers intertwine. She doesn’t look at him but he doesn’t need her to to know what she’s thinking. She stubs out the cigarette with her other hand, the ash hissing softly against the concrete wall behind her head before she flicks the butt into the rocks. Waves lap against the shore, sea foam clotting and sticking and forming pretty consolations, her thumb brushes over his bruised knuckles thoughtfully, but it’s natural and unpracticed.

He lets out a shaky exhale as her delicate fingers wrap around his. They’re smaller than his, more nimble, and yet they’re strong. Stronger than normal, like she’s solidifying every word she’s conveying through his simple touch. That this is real. Once that contact is made he feels like he can breathe again. Her skin feels electric against, sending sparks up his arm and signals to his brain that stop him feeling the dull, everlasting ache all over his body, that thrums low but never truly leaves for good. But this feels right. It feels good.

The winds starting to pick up a little now, she has no idea what time it is and neither does he, but it’s a distant worry. She’s got a little niggling at the back of her brain that there’s a storm incoming, but she’s not sure when or where’d she’d heard it, every memory from the past few days blending into one, where she can’t pinpoint any individual words or emotions.

She lets her eyelids flutter closed, head laying down softly onto JJ’s shoulder, incase there was a nasty bruise underneath the worn cotton, he wouldn’t have told her even if there was. She breathes steadily, breathing in the lingering scent of him on the warm skin of his neck: sea water, sweat and a hint of the old spice cologne he’d stolen from his dad in ninth grade, and then kept stealing bottles whenever it’d run out.

She squeezed his hand in hers: once, twice, three times. A silent ‘I love you’. Neither of them had ever been any good with words, but they didn’t need to be.

She doesn’t know whats going to happen and she doesn’t know what they’re going to do after tonight, when they wake up tomorrow morning in the abandoned lighthouse with less than a dollar to their shared name. But she doesn’t let the thought cloud her memory too long, because with JJ by her side it’s hard to worry about things that aren’t facing you yet, it’s easy to just live in the moment with him.

With her head leaning against his shoulder, breath from her nose tickling his skin, he takes the time to study her for the billionth time that night. Taking in the slope of her nose, her jawline, her eyelashes. His heart does all sorts of crazy things in his chest, things he’d never felt before her. But it’s not from fear, or uncertainty, or anything of the sort. Instead, it’s from love. From adoration. From everything he feels for her.

“I love you.”

He whispers, just loud enough for her to hear him over the wind.

Her eyelashes flutter open, kissing at her eyebrows, fingers still interlocked with his as she zones in on him, he notices the way her eyes are glazed over with tears.

It had always been harder for her to say those three words, even though she’d come from a more conventional family than JJ, his full of physical abuse, hers was full of mental and verbal abuse, the pushing down of her feelings to avoid manipulation is second nature to her. Usually.

But now with JJ, she lets out a soft exhale through her nose, pressing it against the side of his neck, breathing him in as she whispers, hot breath ticking the sensitive skin.

“I love you too.”

He can feel his cheeks heat up when her hot breath brushes against his skin. He doesn’t know why it makes him so flustered, because by this point he should be used to her touch, her quiet little declarations of love. He’s spent countless nights wrapped around her, his arms holding her to his chest like she’s his lifeline.

And yet, when she whispers that she loves him, his heart races in his chest. His fingers squeeze around hers so tight it’s bound to bruise. He doesn’t need to say anything back and she doesn’t expect it, he conveys everything he wants to say through the way his breath hitches and his heartbeat quickens under her ear.

Her eyes flick up to his profile after a minute or so, eyes roaming all over his features from this new angle, pressing her cheek against his shoulder, watching him fiddle with his rings on his fingers, twisting at them, pulling them off and putting them on again. She breaks through his quiet thoughts with a soft question, that he misses because it’s caught in the whisper of the wind.

“Hm?” He mumbles, hand reaching down to find hers again, squeezing it reassuringly as he looks down, hooded eyes completely captivated by her.

“Does it hurt?” She repeats softly, no irritation in her tone like normal when she has to repeat herself to him. He’s confused for a second, eyebrows furrowing until he realises she’s talking about the series of bruises across his cheekbone, her wide eyes lingering on the skin. It’s only then he remembers he was even hurt in the first place, and the low thrum of pain comes back all over his body, wound above his eyebrow stinging when a gust of wind blows.

She squeezes his hand again softly, not forcing him to speak if he doesn’t want to, being patient with him. His gaze stays on her, and he’s coming up with a lie, telling her he’s fine and not to worry about him. But the words get caught in his throat at the worry in her soft gaze. He doesn’t want to lie, not to her.

“Like hell.”

He mutters, bringing his free hand up to his eyeline, the one that’s not gripping hers. He stares down at his bruised knuckles, some starting to scab, others not, starting to turn an ugly shade or reddish purple.

“Yeah?” She replies softly, she seems to have thawed off a little, anger not so red hot, scalding in her fingertips. Not so angry at the world. Her free hand comes up to softly brush against the blossom of purple along his cheekbone, and his jaw ticks under her touch, refraining from flinching away from her. She notices, though, and tears spring to the corners of her eyes, tear ducts working overtime tonight, it seemed.

He lets out a shaky exhale, it’s covered by the wind but she doesn’t miss the quiver of his lips. Her gentle touch feels electric against his skin. He doesn’t want to flinch, but it hurts. It hurts.

Her touch is soft and delicate, tracing over the bruise with a feather light touch. His skin is heated and tender, and any contact makes the thrumming under his skin stronger. But at the same time, it feels good, because she’s touching him. Loving him.

His eyes dart up to meet hers, searching them for any sign of fear. Or disgust.

There’s nothing even close reflected in her eyes. They’re soft, softer than he’s ever seen them. That hard exterior she puts up is broken through as she looks at him, beaten and bruised. It makes her heart physically ache in her chest.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She whispers softly, he hears her through the soft gust that comes in, blowing his hair out of his face a little, exposing the gash across his temple. He’s so tuned into her right now, overanalysing every movement she makes, every word, every breath.

He lets out a soft scoff, shaking his head. The last thing he wants to talk about is his piece-of-shit dad. Talking about the events of tonight wouldn’t change a single thing, and it’s just gonna make her worry.

“There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

He mutters under his breath, avoiding her gaze. He knows she’s trying to be sweet, and care for him but he doesn’t want her to pity him. He doesn’t want her to think he’s weak.

She notices his walls coming back up, him pulling away from her a little, if not physically definitely internally. She doesn’t force anything, just nods softly, blinking back the tears in her eyes and slips her hand from his cheek, slumping back against the concrete wall with a soft sigh, knees and shoulders brushing.

The last thing she wants to do it push, make him cramp up and close himself off like he did sometimes.

The part of him that wants to lean back into her touch, to be held and loved and cared for after being beat to a pulp wars with the part of him that doesn’t want her pity.

He settles for somewhere in the middle, their thighs pressing together and shoulders brushing. He’s still avoiding her eyes, staring down at his bruised knuckles, biting back the tears that lodge his throat.

Her gaze stays on him for a long time, even if he’s refusing to reciprocate her longing gaze. She doesn’t mind, she just quietly watches, admires.

He feels her gaze on him and he can’t fight it anymore, he never could. His eyes flick to hers, fiddling with the rings on his thick fingers, forearms rested on his knees.

She’s giving him this look that makes him want to melt, like she sees right through him, for everything he is and everything he will be and the only emotion in her moonlit eyes is love.

“Do you..” She trails off, the wind picking up a little around them, the waves splatter against the rocks, sea foam clinging to the pebbles only a few meters away and JJ’s eyes flick from the shore, and then to her. He knows what she’s trying to ask, or along the lines of her question.

His heart’s doing that fluttering thing again, like a caged bird. He doesn’t need to be told what she’s asking, because he can read it in her eyes. He knows she’s not asking out of pity, or even out of lust. Just a pure, unconditional adoration. A need to hold the boy she loves. A need to be as close to him as possible. He knows there’s no point in denying her, and he doesn’t want to, anyway.

He nods shakily, letting his eyes flutter shut, pleading with him himself internally to not break, not yet.

“What do you need?”

She whispers softly, fingers itching to touch him, to comfort him, but she wants to touch him however he wants to be, and she don’t want to push anything.

He wants her. Needs her. He wants to run his fingers through her hair, feel her heart beating against his, breathe in the scent of her skin. And it’s not out of lustful desire, it’s out of a deep-down desperate need to feel safe. To feel wanted. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a shaky breath. His eyes flick open, the saddest look she’d ever seen gracing his features, and she can tell he’s about to break.

“C’mere.”

He mutters under his breath, voice scratchy and quiet as he reaches his arms out for her, wincing softly at the stretch of the skin of his chest, littered with purple and blues.

She doesn’t wait to crawl into his lap, slowly, listening intently to every little gasp he makes to make sure she’s not putting any pressure on his major bruises, if they weren’t outside on a rocky beach, slumped against a wall, she’d be the one holding him, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made, and right now JJ needs her, no matter how.

Her chest is pressed against his, strong arms wrapped around her back and keeping her as close as possible to him. He’s holding her tighter than he should, afraid she might slip away if he loosens his grip.

His hands find her hips, snaking under the loose material of the tank top and digging affectionally into the warm skin there. The feeling of her finally being against him is driving him crazy, but in a good way, caged between the wall and her.

He lets out a shuddering breath, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his nose nuzzling at her soft skin.

“You’re okay.” She whispers, resting one hand at the back of his head, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck gently, pressing her lips to his crown. She feels his shoulders begin to shake and the meltdown that he’d been holding back from all night crashing down and overtaking him now.

You know all you can do is be present, and reassure him. “Everything’s gonna be okay..”

He feels the dam inside of him break, like the floodgates had finally opened, and before he knows what he’s doing, hot tears are springing to his eyes.

She’s saying all the right things. She’s touching him like no one’s touched him. And it’s too much. Too much to handle. He buries himself against her chest, his arms wrapping around her torso to hold her close. He lets out another shuddering breath, a soft crying shortly following, and it’s guttural and soul shattering as he shakes against her.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” She mumbles into his sweaty hair, blonde tresses tickling at her chin, leaving kisses anywhere she can reach, hands carding through his hair, offering the maximum amount of comfort she can in his arms.

“You’re okay, baby.”

Her calling him ‘baby’ isn’t something he realised has such an effect on him until now, and the way her voice is so soft, so sweet and caring, has him melting against her.

Her touch and her words are like a balm on his frayed nerves, extinguishing the fire burning under his skin.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He chokes out, like a mantra, into the warm crook of her neck, over and over again, soaking the skin with his tears.

“I love you more.”

She whispers against his head, leaning sitting up a little straighter against him for a sec, but he’s pulling her down just as quick, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone as he cries.

“Hey, listen for a sec.” She mumbles, and waits for him to nod against her before continuing, fingernails scraping deliciously against his scalp as she speaks, her words attempting to calm him down from his spiral.

“‘Member what we said? After we figure all this shit out.. gonna get a house t’gether and get married, yeah? You listenin’?”

He nods shakily as she holds him, her hands brushing his sweaty hair at his temples, her kisses along his forehead keeping him grounded to reality. He swallows hard at her words about the future, his heart seizing up in his chest. But he nods again, desperately needing to hear more. He needs to hear about their future together, because it’s the only thing keeping him together right now, when he feels like nothing’s going right, his only way out is her.

“Yeah-yeah, ‘m listenin’.” He murmurs against her hot skin, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, making sure she was really still there, and this wasn’t some hallucination.

“Good, keep breathin’. And y’know what else? Gonna have so many babies together, yeah? All of our little mini us’s runnin’ ‘round. We’re gonna be so happy, J. Soon as we get outta this mess.”

The very thought of having kids with her has him choking up again.

He can picture it all so clearly, the cozy fish shack by the marsh, a whole football team of kiddos, the little girls beautiful like their mama, getting dressed up all pretty, the rowdy boys the spitting image of JJ, with unruly blonde hair as big blue eyes, tackling and wrestling with each other on the grass outside whilst he tries to teach them to fish.

He can’t help but grip her tighter at the imagery flashing through his clouded mind, ringed fingers digging into her hips.

“Lotsa babies. Lotsa babies. Our babies. Promise?”

She nods with a soft smile, eyes reflecting the same expression as his when his eyes meet hers, glazed over and filled with an emotion unlabelled. Her thumbs swipe at his under eyes, wiping away the hot tears, careful to avoid any gashes or bruises.

“Promise. But none o’ that’s gonna happen if you don’t make it through tonight, baby. You gotta breathe for me.”

Of course she’s exaggerating, and it’s in a hope to bring a little light to the emotional rollercoaster he’s going through right now, and she’s on the same ride internally, but she needs to be strong, for him.

He lets out a shaky exhale, his chest heaving against hers as he forces his body to breathe.

In, and out, In, and out, In, and out-

He wants that life. With her. A life with her in a homey beach shack, a physical place he can call home, instead of the girl he’s holding in his arms.

In, and out, In, and out, In, and out.

But the only way he’s going to get that life is by surviving, together and by getting through tonight, together.

He slowly nods, squeezing her hips again.

“M breathin’.. ‘M breathin’..”

She nods tearfully, sniffling and swiping at her own eyes before he can see them. “Good.. that’s good..” She mumbles in praise, hands still holding his face and stroking at his cheeks with her thumbs gently. “Can you look at me a sec?” She’s careful to keep her touch featherlight over any bruises.

He nods shakily, slowly lifting his tired eyes to look at her, the day weighing heavy on his shoulders and now he’d really let everything out, he was exhausted. His cheeks are still tear stained and his chest heaving. He slowly brings a hand up, cupping the side of her face so he can run his thumb along her tear stained jaw.

“Lookin’.” He mumbles, breath hitching.

“You breathin’ properly now?” She mumbles, jaw moving under his calloused palm as she eyes him sweetly, eyes reflecting all the love he feels for her in this moment.

He lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes slowly raking over her face, taking in all her features like he’d never seen them before, and he’s lost count of how many times he’s got lost in her tonight.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. Stunning in an effortless way, always has been. Like she woke up this morning and was effortlessly gorgeous.

His hand is still on her face, his thumb brushing against her skin.

“Yeah.. yeah baby, ‘m breathin’ normal. You’re makin’ it all messed up ‘gain, though.”

He mumbles, breathing a little heavily out of his nose and it tickles at her skin, a soft smile makes its way onto her face at the look in his eyes, completely enamoured by her.

She lets a breath of laughter slip from her nose, it’s soft and sweet and his eyes visibly soften at the sound, ears perking up.

“You’re so handsome, J.” She mumbles, thumb never stopping it’s comforting ministrations against the damp skin of his cheek.

Her touch on his skin makes him shiver, his mind and body always being so receptive to her. He wants to hide his face when he calls her handsome. He doesn’t think he’s handsome. Hot, sure, he’s been called that many a time. Pretty, meh, makes his heart flutter a little when you mumble it against his ear in bed, but he’d never admit it. But handsome? He’s not handsome.

He swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he averts his gaze.

“Don’t. ‘M not handsome..” He mutters under his breath.

Her heart breaks a little at his immediate denial of the compliment.

“You are, J.” She mumbles, hand coming under his jaw to lift his gaze back to hers.

“You are, JJ.” She reassures him again, making sure he really knows it, believes it.

“‘n our babies are gonna be too.”

His heart is doing the fluttering thing again, his stomach flip flopping inside of him as he meets her gaze.

Babies, plural.

Oh, Jesus.

The thought of having little babies running around looking like the perfect mix of the both of you has him reeling. He’s always had a hard time picturing his future, but mostly the father part, after everything he’s been through he could never see it for himself. But with her, the image never seemed so impossible.

He lets out a shaky breath, a tear slipping down his rosy cheek, fingers squeezing at her hip again.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” She smiles, thumb stroking over a larger bruise at his temple.

“‘N I know things are hard right now, but we’re gonna get through this rough patch together, yeah? We can sleep here, at the lighthouse, we’ll get jobs, then eventually buy a house, get married..” She speaks softly, the wind picking up a little and making her cheeks cold and frost bitten. They’re sixteen and homeless, but all they need is each other.

That night they hold each other closer than ever before, knocking out on the old mattress up in the look out tower, limbs tangled together and content just for the night. JJ had calmed down now, stripped down to just his underwear, her too, pressed up against his good side in bed, head rested against his shoulder as she sleeps soundly, for the first time in what feels like forever.

JJ eventually manages to fall asleep, too, her previous words on his mind all through his slumber, dreaming of Maybank family fishing days, and the beautiful house that he would raise his babies in, the love of his life by his side, dreaming of a future where he wasn’t ashamed of his last name, and everyone he loved dearly shared it with him.

[8thhousekat]

struggles of having a 8h dominant chart

From an 8th houser ✌️

Tw: SA, abuse, neglect

🕷️we have resting bitch faces and look mad all of the time

🕷️we had to raise ourselves and it caused us to have unhealthy coping mechanisms

🕷️we don’t trust easily

🕷️the paranormal is drawn to us (a little too much)

🕷️we experience losing the people we love most way to often

🕷️people come into our lives as lessons or vice versa

🕷️we have a sexual aura about us when we aren’t even sexual at all

🕷️again the sexualization 😐

🕷️people randomly tell us their deepest darkest secrets 😭

🕷️we are always find out if people are lying to us

🕷️personally I really struggle with letting items go??

🕷️grudge holding and vengeance until I die✌️

🕷️we will read you like a book

🕷️experiencing a lot of near death experiences

🕷️attracting animals they just feel safe with us

🕷️being treated like an adult way to young

🕷️our mothers are very cold towards us or older woman in general

🕷️Scorpio placements 😭 are attracted to me like flies ( I love them tho they make me feel safe)

🕷️ the emotional repression for 5 yrs comes out on a random Tuesday

🕷️loving people on the line of hate

🕷️as a child seeing spirits everywhere

🕷️we are really loyal people especially in relationships/friendships ❤️

🕷️random haters out of nowhere

🕷️people make up rumors about us really easily (this one time I moved schools suddenly and people started saying I died?? Like wtf)

🕷️we have intense stares we deadpan people

🕷️a lot of us were neglected really bad growing up and abused 😔

🕷️being hard to get to know🕷️

🕷️issues sleeping

🕷️intense anger 😭

🕷️the BETRAYAL really gets outta hand people gotta do better

🕷️experiencing awful jealousy from others

🕷️being hard to manipulate ❤️

🕷️no one really knows us but they know us if that makes sense

🕷️we are paranoid 100%

🕷️we have horrible intrusive thoughts

🕷️We love scary stuff

🕷️there’s stuff that has happened to us that if we said it out loud no one would understand the severity

🕷️mental health is either amazing or horrible no in between

🕷️randomly wanting to change your appearance? We always have urges to go through transformations because we constantly are 😭

I hope you guys liked this it’s just from my experience and what I’ve noticed 🙏

[shadowvalkyrie]

What I suspect we're seeing here is communication failure based on people going into an argument with very different base assumptions.

Vaspider seems to be talking from the position of being in loving relationships and needing to let go of unwarranted anxiety about them. Communication can solve these issues, because it is indeed unfair to expect your partner(s) to be able to read your mind, and your mental health is a responsibility you cannot outsource to your friends and family.

But I don't think it's fair to dismiss Summertimesadnessirl's point out of hand? What I'm reading there is someone arguing from very different circumstances. A lot of people don't live with loving partners. People get abused. People are trapped in toxic relationships, often familial or romantic, but friendships can be very toxic and one-sided too.

Very often anxiety is a (frequently maladaptive, but not irrational) consequence of trying to make genuinely awful relationships work.

If you've never been the uncool hanger-on in high school, trying desperately to fit into a friend group who barely tolerates your presence, where you're constantly talked over and no one remembers your birthday or wants to hang out with you outside group activities, then lucky you.

Sometimes your "friends" really do hate you. No amount of communication can fix that -- in fact, letting on that you're hurt and in need of reassurance? Can be seen as an exploitable weakness or at least cause for ridicule. And it's an important life skill to figure out whether that is the case and how to leave that situation if so, and to make genuine friends who actually love you. And when you do? That learned response of "but what if they don't", will take a lot of time to unlearn. Only then does open and honest communication come into it.

Based on that, my guess would be that VS is a lot older than STS, and they're just at very different stages of what is actually a very similar journey.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Finally got to see “Nosferatu” (2024) and what a masterpiece. Peak gothic horror, my teenage self came alive with this film. This is truly for the gothic horror, history and folklore enjoyers.

Eggers brings the audience into the Victorian era; not only visually but on the storytelling itself. There are so many layers happening here. This film is a meditation on sex and death, modernity and spirituality, science and superstition. It’s set in the 19th century, at the dawn of the modern Western world; and as Europeans move towards technology and science, they drift away from folklore and pagan religions. It’s no coincidence that Orlok comes into Germany to terrorize a city, the ultimate symbol of civilization.

Our protagonist Ellen is a seer, a medium, an “enchantress” like Orlok calls her, and even Von Franz recognizes she could have been a “Priestess of Isis” had she been born in pagan times. Unfortunately for Ellen, she was born in the “wrong era” and she’s brutally medicalized for her gifts, being diagnosed as a “melancholic hysteric somnambulist” aka hyper-sexual depressive and suicidal. She’s able to see beyond the realm of the living, which causes her to summon and awake Orlok from his centuries old nap, at the beginning of the movie, and develop a psychosexual connection with him; which is, indeed, what separates this story from the other “Dracula” adaptations.

Count Orlok is the archetypal Death, here; which culminates with the “Death and the Maiden” motif at the end. This was a very popular Art History archetype around the so-called “Plague years” (14th to 16th century) in Europe, and it’s often connected with other motifs like “Danse Macabre” and “Memento Mori”. It has several meanings depending on the author intent, usually a reminder of our mortality, but also a meditation on sex and death, as in the French “la petite mort” (“little death”), the post-orgasm sensation, sexual release potentially causing temporary loss of consciousness (fainting) or dizziness. In the Medieval Ages, physicians believed orgasms could lead to death because they drained the “life force” from the body. This was when the term “petite mort” was created, and this belief persisted into the Renaissance and beyond. In “Nosferatu” this probably translates in the sexual pleasure that Orlok imprints on his victims as he drains their life force.

Thomas is a ambitious young man who marries Ellen, and he craves the status and the money his long-friend Friedrich Harding has. At Thomas’ side, Ellen “gifts” appear to have been blocked, and she’s able to lead a “normal life”. This caused her to developed a somewhat co-dependent relationship with him. And this makes me ask: does Ellen truly loves him or does she loves the idea of herself with him? Ellen profound need to feel loved also extends to her friendship with Anna, and she even thanks her for loving her. This is also a desire she expresses to Orlok, as she accuses him of being incapable of loving her (in the human sense), this being the reason for her resisting to succumb to his offer (Thomas loves her, he doesn’t).

Many interpretations have been brought forward about Ellen story (abuse, grooming, etc.), personally I disagree. I see it as a metaphorical story of depression (Ellen not only gets diagnosed with “melancholy”, the Victorian equivalent for “Depression”, but she also presents a lot of synonyms of Bordeline Personality Disorder), and how it can wreck havoc on the lives of those around us when the proper medical treatment is not available, and it culminates with Ellen joining Orlok/Death = committing suicide. Like Orlok himself, she can never be satiated with the world of the living, and finds fulfillment in death, and him as a “past lover” can be interpreted not only with suicidal ideation but actual attempts.

The influence of Grand Guignol theatre is also visible in some scenes, where horror and comedy are blended. Some scenes are indeed very theatrical and this seems intentional.

Personally, I didn’t find this film scary (as in terrifying). It’s macabre and eerie, for sure. Visually, it’s stunning. Amazing cinematography, very atmospheric and dream-like. Customs and sets are incredible. A feast for historians like myself. I was gushing over the medieval architecture of Orlok castle because of course I was. The attention to detail in this film is incredible. I absolutely loved Orlok character design as the “Renaissance plague carrier”.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I have a couple of questions, the main two being: 1: what ships do you dislike/hate? and why? 2: are there any ships you enjoy/like? and why? I am an anti-shipper myself, so hearing other ppls opinions on ships is interesting to me.

Only ships I really hate are like, incest, pedo or zoophilia, and Killermare and Bad Sans Poly.

I hate Killermare because it is trafficker/kidnapper/abuser x victim/captive and that is just..baked so completely in their narratives I find it ridiculous to ignore it.

I hate the narrative that Nightmare ever genuinely saved Killer, he didn’t—Color was the one putting in hard work and tears trying to protect, understand, befriend, and earn Killer’s trust. He was the one being threatened with death and stabbed and attacked for trying to help like he was asked to— by Killer himself—to help. He’s the one constantly risking his life and safety and well being for Killer’s freedom.

I hate how certain shippers treat this ship, how they treat Killer, and how they definitely treat Color—like Color’s somehow the bad guy because they want to pretend that Nightmare is somehow good for Killer’s safety or that Killer would ever be happy with him. Or as if Color only has selfish intentions and motives for Killer. Even more so when they pretend it’s one sided and Killer doesn’t grow to feel the same eventually—even when they’re extremely rough and certainly not friends in the beginning.

As if Killer wasn’t the one asking Color to save him. As if Killer didn’t say he kinda likes Color, and Nightmare had to tell him to literally shut up—as if Color isn’t the only one besides Toriel Killer has admitted to liking before, compared to when he said he doesn’t like anyone when asked. As if Color wasn’t the only one Stage 1 Killer ever felt comfortable asking, pleading with, for help—trusting him enough to admit he wants to be saved.

As for ships i enjoy, there’s Colorkiller obviously—but I also enjoy them as a friendship, or queer platonic, or them in general. Lifeafterdeath most definitely. Reapertale Chara x Core!Frisk (I don’t know. if they have a ship name) is wonderful.

Epic Sanses poly, Delta x Color, Epic x Color, Ccino x Color, just other Color ships in general i like. Chromatic Crew poly could be interesting.

But honestly what I really want is more of Killer in platonic relationships.

Color is special to him and this is just an undeniable fact, and Killer doesn’t strike me as the type to be very interested in friendship outside of what he managed to build with Color—but i think he should have more social connections, even if they aren’t what he has with Color because he does not trust most people at all.

I’d love to see more of Ink and Killer. Not really as a ship, but as pals—I feel they’d understand each other. Ccino and Killer and Lust and Killer and Color too. I’d like to see Ink and Color content as well, and Color and Dream.

I feel I’d be interested in seeing more Killer and Horror content, but there’s barely any outside of Bad Sans Poly or MTT Poly—and even in those ships there’s hardly anything.

I’ve found myself turned away from most Killer and Murder dynamics because, similar to Kross and killermare, these two always have to have some sort of “sexual tension” or something and it’s actually just beating eachother half to death or being lovey dovey and so in love. (Or when Killer is portrayed as a desperate whore for dust’s attention and begging him to love him or something.)

I think I’d find them more interesting in fandom depictions if 1. It wasn’t always just about how “hot” they are together and how “hot” is it that they hate eachother or whatever, and 2. people focused more on how they’re different rather than how they’re similar.

[liberalk1tsch]

while i agree katniss and peeta are bonded through trauma, they are not trauma bonded, as that would entail a pattern of one abusing the other and creating an unhealthy psychological dependency on the abuser as opposed to two friends growing closer through shared experience. unfortunately these terms have become buzzwords of sorts and are all too often mixed up these days😅. i think you’re thinking of codependency, which they do experience to an extent, but i disagree that it’s a defining factor in their relationship and/or why they get together at the end.

katniss was showing very clear signs of interest in peeta before the games even started, to the point that she had to try to actively convince herself he was trying to kill her, even before his ploy with the careers. on the other hand, she has to go out of her way in cf to try to convince herself she has feelings for gale and it still doesn’t work.

peeta was dying in a cave and still asking katniss about her favourite day and using what very well could’ve been his final breaths to just talk to her.

he also spends time with her all day for weeks on end when she hurts herself in cf, helping her work on her family plant book and getting to know her as a person outside of all of the games talk. gale is healing at this time, yes, but he’s also had 5+ years on peeta to do anything remotely similar, he just doesn’t. it’s very much a case of the whole «if he wanted to, he would» cliche.

katniss also spends an entire paragraph describing peeta’s eyelashes at this point, when her description of gale is usually something like «he’s conventionally handsome, i guess.»

i could go on, but my point is essentially that katniss and peeta’s relationship holds an element of closeness and caring (regardless of their trauma) that is simply not present in her relationship with gale.

also! they didn’t exclusively have each other in the end. katniss had a close friendship in jo, and peeta had that in annie and delly. not to mention haymitch and sae, and the fact that katniss is an unreliable narrator, so there were probably loads of other people who cared about their wellbeing postwar that she never even brings up. katniss and peeta weren’t each other’s only option in life following the war, but they were each other’s chosen option.

this is not me trying to get into a big long argument😅 i just felt it needed to be clarified:)

hot take: gale was never that close with katniss.

their friendship was one of convenience and bonding over shared trauma, but it was never all that personal. sure, they were great hunting partners, but not much else. the second he was involved in anything pertaining to katniss’ life outside of hunting, he would become irrational and angry. even katniss herself narrates that the worst part about losing gale would be «good hunting partners are hard to come by.» he’s like that one coworker who you always spend time with at work, but then that energy doesn’t transfer outside of your shared obligation.

not to mention the hostility toward peeta. and i dont just mean in a «boohoo he’s jealous» kind of way, i mean to the point of offering to murder him in mj.

do i understand he’s a complex character? yes. i also understand the majority of his anger is misdirected frustration with his circumstances. does that make him a good/close friend? absolutely not.

[sunflower1experiment]

Another mouthwashing analysis

I feel like people forget that Jimmy’s character is important because it forces us to see his crimes and while it is uncomfortable and feels unnecessary.

That is the whole point of the game, what he did was unnecessary and it proves how unreliable he is and how realistic the story is. We have people like him in real life that cause these types of problems, hurt others like he did to Anya and Curly because in his pov he views them as useless or someone to clean up his mess whether he indirectly or directly caused it.

What he did to Anya, he blamed Curly, he’s blaming Curly for his crime against her. When Anya can’t handle feeding Curly the pills, she gets nauseous and upset. And there is a symbolic point in two ways, Jimmy getting angry at her for not handling/cleaning up HIS INDIRECT MESS and the fact that he expects her to act normally after Sa’ing her. Because he doesn’t see the problem, only when she asks for help or gets worried about the baby causing him problems so he runs away from the baby and belittles/ antagonizes her as if that was her fault he crashed it.

Now here’s the symbolism, Anya and Curly symbolizing each other because they both had to fawn and or ended up with flight/freeze. Because of Jimmy, Curly is not perfect or a good person and what happened to him isn’t karma.

The only karma he gets is being forced to watch Jimmy cause all of this chaos and then watching Jimmy crawl back to him and practically cannibalize Curly just because Curly isn’t here to clean up his mess.

Anya is young, so is Daisuke, they were both failed we got that bit but we also forget the part that Curly sort of symbolizes what it would be like for Anya if she had the baby with her abuser still roaming around.

Which causes her to get more depressed, his whole plan was to literally kill her and then he lies saying Curly crashed but we all know thats not true which where the irony comes in and my personal theory. Anya and Swansea probably knew especially when Anya told Swansea, and Swansea told Anya his plan.

Anya basically is giving up meanwhile Swansea was too busy getting drunk to take action when it was needed.

Now we all know this dance and repeated it many times but as a fandom we have to understand that Jimmy shows the worst in everyone as Anya said “Our worst moments don’t make us monsters” Jimmy was in his worst moment and he was portraying everyone in their worst moments meanwhile he was the monster of it all.

And he tries to repeat this quote but Polle (aka Anya) stops him. Because if that were true why did he SA her? Why did he think that he had nothing to lose? Why did he ruin Anya and Curly’s potential relationship/friendship just for a power stroke?

Because he saw Anya as an object and sees Curly as an airhead “Good Captain” whom Jimmy knows well because he was able to analyze Curly’s psych evaluation meanwhile Curly was barely able to analyze Jimmy.

They were never friends, Jimmy took advantage of Curly’s kindness and deems him this airhead, heart on the sleeve Captain. But he forgets that being a Captain comes all the stress.

Which cracks me up when he gets angry at having to do four tasks. This should’ve told everyone how useless he is, he didn’t even do anything for the past 2 months and made sure to blank that out until Anya asked for help, they saw the mouthwash and he was expecting everything to be normal.

No Jimmy, Anya is human, Swansea is human and Daisuke is human. You ruined a future doctor’s life, took a father/husband from his family and ruined a young man’s life. Because you couldn’t take responsibility.

He doesn’t even take responsibility for practically making everyone out to be people that they’re not. As he said and I quote “Pain is what makes one know you’re living.”

……..Anyone who hates him, I do not blame you, folks who like him, I still don’t blame you or anyone.

As long as folks aren’t toxic and bashing others about it, I don’t care.

We just gotta understand that when it comes to each pilot’s perspective. Jimmy’s is super unreliable meanwhile Curly’s is somewhat but he also fails terribly at being Captain. He keeps trying to be friend and Captain at the same time which is impossible unless you know how to juggle the responsibility of one of the crewmates acting out to challenge your authority.

Which is what Jimmy did twice….

And let’s also not forget that he was super selfish the whole time and when it came to judgement day. Him putting Curly in the cryopod and taking the cowardly way out, still selfish and doesn’t make him a hero. Instead it sorta makes him worse, he has all the potential to change as it shows in Swansea’s speech but doesn’t. Because he believes everything he is doing, is right.

Thats all I just wanted to rant because I always think about how he says “I’ll take care of it” he says it to Curly and practically ruins everyone’s life then says it to Anya twice and them proceeds to abuse Curly.

Then when Anya gets the chance to have her own authority, it’s to end it all. Which sucks for her because that’s how depressed she was and how stressful it was and Jimmy once again tries to make it seem like she breaks down all the time. When for 2-4 months she’s been handling Curly’s pills.

Meanwhile he broke down at having to do 5 tasks….which is actually crazy. The tasks sorta represent the months, just saying. He never did a single thing for those past months besides correct folks and talk about how he’s Captain now.

Okay Jimmy, and you can’t even be Captain. Under qualified as a pilot and under qualified as a Captain.

[justatalkingface]

Bakugou and Izuku's 'Friendship'

Or, what the fuck do you think friendship is?

For the purposes of this post, we're temporarily ignoring... their entire backstory, basiclly. For all intents and purposes, these two met in UA, there's no childhood trauma, no assaults, no demands that Izuku commit suicide, none of that. We're trying to take a look at the current 'friendship' between Izuku and Bakugou.

And, in that spirit, I want to say this: why, in the the name of burning fuck, do you call this a friendship?

No, seriously: I see these posts, here and elsewhere, with clips of, like, Bakugou yelling at Izuku so hard his hair is being blown back. Or hitting Izuku. Or insulting Izuku. And these posts say, unironically (unless I'm missing some weird ass trend) that these are 'Dawww' moment.

You know, like you would go when you see a cute kitten or something.

But it's worse than that, because the manga itself seems to support this; I'll never forget that picture of All Might smiling at Izuku and Bakugou fondly as Bakugou yells his head off, absolutely losing his shit like a bratty five year old, while Izuku is just patiently trying to fight through the torrent of verbal vomit and get to the other side.

Dawww.

Bakugou screaming his head off less than a foot from Izuku's head, probably causing permanent hearing loss? Adorable. Look at what great friends they are, you love to see it!

...I'm sorry? Is... is that what you think friendship is? Do you have a friend that just spends all their free time belittling you? No, I'm being serious: do you have a friend like that? Because, in all seriousness, if you do, I really want you to reassess that relationship.

But, I can almost hear someone say, me and my friend mock each other all the time! Or, maybe, my friend calls me an idiot or some such, but they mean it affectionately!

....Alright, let's break this down a little. A good, healthy relationship, a friendship, whatever, is give and take. You get something out of it, and the other person gets something out of it. It's built off connections, something that bind you together, and mutual trust.

Let me put it like this: let's say your friend calls you a name, and because of your history, that name, that may or may not seem insulting, is in fact not insulting, but instead references your history together. Do they use your actual name? Or does using it cause them almost physical pain, to the point they've only used it once in literal years?

Or this: you fight with your friend. Or berate them. Or something like that. Do you... stop? Do you do something with them other than that? Do you yell at them, just... flat out scream at them, on the top of your lungs? Is all that you do yell at them?

Do you hurt your friends? And I'm not talking about friendly punching: do you throw frozen snowballs at their head? Do you impale them with sharp metal objects?

Yeah... that's the thing with Bakugou's 'friendship' with Izuku: there's no actual friendship to it. Bakugou insults and attacks Izuku, and in response he.... puts up with it. All friendships are different, sure, but there is a line, where things cross over into cruelty or abusive behavior: I have a friend who I mock, and I would never do to them what Bakugou does to Izuku all the fucking time. Ever. I hope with all sincerity that if I did what Bakugou does? That someone would slap me, because that is not OK.

More than that, though, is the fact that a good friendship should be more than that: even good hearted ribbing can be hurtful if it happens too much. When does Bakugou stop? When has Bakugou interact with Izuku in a healthy way? When have they just had a conversation, one where he isn't yelling, that's not loaded with hurtful subtext from the past, or with Bakugou demanding something from Izuku, anything like that? When do they.... play video games, or engage in some sort of activity together? And, before anyone says something, that is not part of the training they do as part of their school, as ordered by their teacher, because that doesn't actually count (not that he does that then, either).

And, on that topic.... 'But Bakugou saved Izuku's life!'. Well. First off that entire situation, as I've said before, is stupid forced bullshit to railroad Izuku into needing to be saved at all, while somehow giving Bakugou enough time to save him (even though Izuku could... save himself in that situation, since Bakugou had all this time to fly over?), all while making him act OOC, in that 'He's totally redeemed, guys!' way Hori loves, to make him save Izuku at all!

But let's ignore that. Let's say that, actually, Bakugou just saved Izuku in a normal way. Here's the thing: saving people is, in fact, his actual job. It doesn't matter if it was Izuku, or Bakugou's mom, or some random scrub off the street: Bakugou's actual job, as a hero, is to save people. Him doing it is something that deserves acknowledgement, sure (if only because of how wildly out of his usual behavior patterns that is), but it's not a sign of friendship. The entire point of that, as Bakugou's 'growth', is that he grew enough to get past his ego to help other people like a hero should.

And, I swear to fuck, if you try to tell me Bakugou 'apologizing' to Izuku, insincerely by his own admission, after attacking him, is a sign of friendship? I really, really, really, want you to sit down, picture your friend leading a mob of people you trust to attack you, after you've spent days alone, fighting for your life against people trying to kill you, only for them to promptly apologize while saying 'it changes nothing'.

Think about that, and think about how that would make you feel.

[linkcharacter]

Oh I have so many thoughts on aroace Curly, I think it brings so much on the table when analyzing the game's story.

Amanormativity ties in with the reoccurring mentions of the nuclear family, from Wrong Organ making 1950s mock advert posters, to Swansea talking about how getting a wife and kids didn't bring him any fulfillment in life.

In the cake cutting nightmare sequence, where Jimmy talks with Dream Curly about the mediocre cake, Dream Curly begins to talk about how sometimes you can only get the subpar stuff in live. Sometimes he'll get promoted, buy a house, fall in love. But other times he'll just have some awful fucking cake with his friend.

I think there is that subtle implication that Jimmy does buy into Amanormativity, with him projecting his beliefs on Dream Curly that a platonic relationship is lesser then a romantic one. But we never see Curly suggesting that he wants such a thing in the pre-crash.

With Jimmy thinking that Curly has everything in life, except for the desire (although I think Jimmy would view it as Curly not having the skills for it) to get a romantic partner, he would heavily lean into getting the one thing that Curly couldn't get in life to one up him.

THATS EXACTLY WHAT IM THINKING!!! AMATONORMATIVITY BE DAMNED!!!!

Looking at Mouthwashing through an aroace lens is interesting

"Jimmy thinking that Curly has everything in life, except for the desire", well said, well said! And references to the nuclear family fit in very cleanly thematically for Mouthwashing.

Jimmy leaning into amatonormativity is a smart observation. Jim internalizes all the social norms and standards on what you have to do to have a normal and desirable life, who sees everything Curly has and what Jimmy wishes he had, and is offended that Curly isn't satisfied, that he has the "audacity" to be unhappy. Curly meanwhile only wishes for his life to be something he doesn't have to run from, because by all means, he has already reached a point where he should feel accomplished, but isn't. Curly doesn't want to be a freighter captain his whole life, he doesn't want to settle with his sustainable position, he just wants to be happy. Like Swansea who has reached the "ideal" outcome of his life, having a wife, kids and a good career, it will never feel as good as embracing all what society deems undesirable yet right for you.

Jimmy does imply to seeing himself as lesser as a friend, "fall in love" being a goal and a "cake with a friend" being something he "has to settle for", it's all in the subtleties with underlying themes of "what you're "supposed to want" by society's expectations" against "what feels right for you". Jimmy is frustrated that Curly is going to "leave the dirt behind him", when in actuality, letting the crew and him go is the last thing Curly wants. Curly wants to be with his friends, he deeply cares about his crew, and about his close friend.

Mouthwashing as a whole reads to me as platonic through and through. Swansea and Daisuke having such a meaningful familial bond, Curly and Anya being sweet, playful and caring without romance, Anya and Daisuke having something of a siblings dynamic are dear to me. Also it's really rare to get to see representations of "toxic friendship" in media. Its always toxic romance this, toxic yaoi that, toxic family there, however in reality, friendships aren't excluded from being as rotten and abusive as the others, yet they're often overlooked. Jim and Curly are especially unique in this way. It's very impressive how they managed to showcase Jimmy's mistreatment of Curly in such a platonic way (at least that how I read it). Jim too, like Curly, in general avoids hints at romance and attraction explicitly related to him during his gameplay, not with Curly, nor with Anya (dear god thanks for that at least). It's all spite, annoyance and parasitizing off of these two. (That man's dry and lowkey hates everyone and everything) No attraction attached, no desires except hoping it hurts.

Curly to me is very much aroace, or at least on the spectrum. Like, the trivia fact that one of Curly's fondest memories is that of his friends putting in effort to make a shitty awful cake, tells us all we need to know on how dear his friends are to him. Platonic relationships mean so much to Curly, even when it's Jimmy fucking Mouthwashing, the worst friend ever imaginable.

[fortheloveofexy]

Also!! I think it's important to note that it's love that saved him in the Nest.

However fractured and strained their relationship became in the end, it was Kevin's friendship and Jean's promise to Kevin that kept him alive for all those years in Evermore. If he hadn't had Kevin, that one little bright spot in all that darkness, would he have even made it as far as he did? Because I don't think he would have. And it was Kevin's love for him that gave Jean sanctuary with the Trojans.

Then you have his relationship with Renee. Renee, who was outside looking in and could still see how much he was suffering. Renee, who became the bright spot in Jean's life after Kevin left. Renee, who taught Jean to look for little miracles, who pulled him from the grave he was standing in, who knew he was at death's door and risked everything to save him. Renee, who loved Jean enough to get him out, even if he hated her for it. Her love for him saved his life. He wouldn't have survived, if not for her.

And then, there's Neil. Neil, who was supposed to be his forever partner. Neil, whom Jean hoped for and longed for anyway, whom Jean protected in the Nest even though he was angry and bitter. Jean believes Neil should hate him for being a bystander, for letting Riko torture him, but Neil has never held it against him, not once. He forgave Jean, even thanked him. And it was Neil's love for him that protected Jean from the Moriyamas, that shielded him from Ichirou's wrath. It was Neil's love for Jean that removed Grayson as a threat and protected him from being traumatized any further by one of his worst abusers.

Love has always saved Jean Moreau. And it will do so again.

i know that some people don’t want jean to end up in a relationship and want him to heal on his own instead, and i get this perspective at some point, however i think it’s important to remember that jean literally craves for his own person. that’s why he waited for nathaniel, his own partner, his unfulfilled promise, for years even though he knew nathaniel wasn’t coming. that’s why he held onto kevin for so long to survive in the nest. that’s why he answered renee’s texts even though he knew he shouldn’t. he has so much love in his heart even though it broke him so many times. he was never allowed to have anything or anyone. that’s why i think he needs to love and to be loved in return just as much. i believe love will save him in the end.

[rabbittongues]

intoxicated by terror and worry

[trianglesimpfordpines]

victim_blaming.jpg

[blissfulrain12]

Cockpit Conversation Analysis

So I just wanted to go over my thoughts on this conversation cause I think people miss out on a few things. It's the first conversation we see between Curly and Jimmy when it's just the two of them. Before it happens we're told that Jimmy has been difficult with Anya, making her job harder and saying things that are sexual harassment (if the cartoon horse question isn't actually on the eval). We go into the conversation with the framing that Jimmy and Curly are friends. They've known each other for a long time and Curly is confident Jimmy won't bullshit him. Except on the way to the cockpit we get Curly's one and only bizarro moment and it's an expression of fear and anxiety. With this context in mind let's look at the actual conversation.

Transcript from @familiarartistname they're awesome for providing these.

I've already talked about these lines a bit but to sum up Jimmy asks Curly to fake it and Curly refuses to forcing him to go through the eval.

What I want to point out for this post is that Jimmy's not wrong in his assessment of how useless the psych evals are. I think his general irritation with the eval helps mask his disdain for Anya. Especially if being attracted to cartoon horses is an actual question in universe and not just an easter egg on the in game eval sheet. If it is I think this is part of why Curly and Anya don't take Jimmy as seriously as they should here.

I also think it's important to note how and when Curly bends the rules. He'll do Jimmy's eval for Anya but he won't make up answers for Jimmy. I think this is an example of the balancing act that Curly is engaged in as captain.

These next lines are interesting to me. One is that Curly seems to take separation of what PE needs to know and not know. He makes it clear that whatever Jimmy says here is not going to be repeated to the company. He does something similar for Anya when he thinks she took the gun during a breakdown over the layoffs. Notably he doesn't open up to Anya during his own eval. I wouldn't be surprised if part of the reason he doesn't is because of a lack of this distinction. This is also another example of Curly doing that balancing act of being a captain. Managing what the company should know while protecting his coworkers' mental health.

The other interesting part is Jimmy's answer to the question. He likes it cause they're in control here. I think Jimmy is the most positive about working for PE and it's all because he feels in control. I think people miss it but Jimny is happy for the most part pre layoff. He's in control what more could he want?

I think it's interesting that he says this because on paper Jimmy's not in control. I've seen people call Jimmy Curly's co-captain but he's not. He's just the co-pilot and by the looks of things isn't actually of higher rank than the rest of the crew. Post crash it takes 2 months for him to take the captain title and he gets push back from the others. If he did outrank them or was co-captain leadership would have instantly passed to him but it doesn't. Yet Jimmy says "We're in control" because Curly's control is his control because he controls/leeches off of Curly. I think this line is our first warning sign that something's not quite right with their relationship.

This part of the conversation has a lot going on even though it's so few lines. First it tells us that Jimmy liking the job is unexpected because he's struggled in the past and people praise Curly as a captain and Jimmy doesn't like that.

Focusing on Jimmy's line I think this is the first line that people pick up on that their friendship is strange because who tells their friend people praising them is annoying? If you look at the flow of the conversation there's no reason for Jimmy to bring this up as well. It goes "How are you?" "Great" "That's unexpected because of your past" "Yeah well people praising you is annoying". They're not talking about Curly or how people see him as a captain. Jimmy brings it up and calls it annoying simply to hurt Curly.

Jimmy takes Curly bringing up his struggles as an attack so he attacks back by making him feel bad about something good. Remember that when Jimmy brings this up during the birthday scene he misquotes Curly as saying "struggle of a life" when that's not what Curly said at all. That's how Jimmy felt about it though. This also isn't the last time Jimmy uses Curly's success as a captain as a weapon against him either. The way Jimmy does this is also very emotionally abusive. Jimmy isn't just framing praise for Curly as bad but bad because it upsets Jimmy. It might not seem like much but comments like these are links in a chain, they add up together.

For Curly's part of the conversation I've seen interesting interpretations of what those "struggles" were but I think we do lose some context sometimes. It's important to remember that Curly thinks Jimmy's struggles would've led him to dislike being a freighter pilot. Meaning his struggles are most likely more personal in nature.

So Jimmy switches topics again by asking Curly what's bothering him. Jimmy also does this during the birthday party scene. He seems very intune with Curly's emotions able to see past any attempts to hide it and see that he's upset. Which does indicate their closeness and friendship.

As for the last line looking at this transcript made me realize how much the fandom associates this suicidal imagery with Curly even though it's Jimmy who says it. In fact I don't think Curly ever describes his feelings like this it's always Jimmy who says it about Curly. This is a very odd way to ask your friend why he seems upset and iirc the next time Jimmy brings this imagery up to Curly is right before he attempts a murder-suicide.

(The line "And that's bad?" should be green as that's Jimmy.)

Curly's answer to Jimmy's question is very interesting because it's not uncommon for people his age to feel this way. We spend the first part of our lives growing into, discovering, and establishing the people we're going to be. When we hit our 30s/40s it's natural to look over who you've become and what you've made for yourself and ask "Am I satisfied with this?" I think for Curly he's leaning towards "no".

It's not that Curly thinks he's above his job, he's just not satisfied in it. It's like how Swansea isn't satisfied with the life of a family man even though society says that's the "right" way to live. Curly is weighing the risks and benefits of staying in a steady job he's successful at vs starting over with something that will satisfy him even if he's not conventionally successful at it. It's a heavy decision to make and we know from the dlc for How Fish Are Made that Curly regrets not changing sooner.

As for Jimmy's response, he in fact doesn't get it. It's fascinating how Jimmy took Curly's words about life satisfaction and turned it into being about career success and hierarchy. Curly's feelings have nothing to do with reaching the top of his career but Jimmy can't see this. Jimmy sees the world through Capitalist/Patriarchal hierarchies and has a habit of projecting his feelings/pov onto others. This is the closest he can get to understanding where Curly is in his life right now. Which makes sense because Jimmy comes from poverty and has struggled in the past he's not at the same life stage as Curly.

It's also fascinating that again we see imagery that the fandom associates with Curly being something Jimmy says about Curly and that Curly never expresses. The only time this imagery comes up for Curly iirc is his bizzaro sequence leading up to this conversation with Jimmy. The ladder is a metaphor Jimmy imposes on Curly. He also kind of imposes this sense of ambition onto Curly. Like it's only natural that after reaching the top of one ladder a man would look for a new ladder to climb.

There's something about the last thing Jimmy says here that is necessary to point out because I think people miss it. Jimmy turns the conversation back to himself. He's made Curly's feelings about himself and once again made Curly's feelings in opposition to his own. Curly's dissatisfaction while being at the top vs Jimmy still climbing.

Lastly Curly knows Jimmy doesn't get it. "Something like that" indicates Jimmy's interpretation isn't right and later in the birthday party scene Curly reinforces this by saying things like "what I was trying to tell you". So yeah Curly knows that Jimmy doesn't understand him but doesn't try to explain further.

Curly's last bit of dialog in this scene is him comforting Jimmy. Remember how I said Jimmy recenters himself despite the conversation at this point being about Curly? This is what I mean. Jimmy asked Curly to be vulnerable with him and Curly ends up comforting Jimmy. Jimmy gives Curly no words of reassurance here, in fact Curly doesn't even get understanding.

In comparison see my Dead Pixel analysis where even though Curly doesn't see the pixel he still believes Anya and aligns with her opinion of the screen being nice. There's no alignment here between Curly and Jimmy, they are talking about 2 different things and it's one sided in Jimmy's favor. In the Dead Pixel convo notice how Anya continues to open up to him, she goes from the pixel to the time left to the locks. Curly in comparison stops trying.

This line also establishes Curly's belief in Jimmy. A belief that even this conversation demonstrates that he shouldn't have. But it's subtle and I can't blame Curly for missing all the things wrong here when so many of the fandom misses it too. We give the conversation the benefit of the doubt because they're friends and we don't know the full scope of Jimmy yet. It's also interesting cause this is the only time Curly says he believes in Jimmy outright and yet the way he believes Anya about Jimmy brings up questions for another time.

Alright last bit and it's from Jimmy himself. So two things from those first lines. One we have Jimmy back to feeling good from Curly's belief in him. A reminder that back when he was asked how he was doing he was fine. Jimmy's feelings are the priority here. Two we see Jimmy's insecurities in here. He's insecure about how his eval comes across. He's very insecure about how he's precieved which comes up again and again through his obsession with reputation, being a hero, and being a patriarch. I also think this points to where his struggles might be in. The evals are labeled as psychological but the actual questions are about employee productivity. Which part of that Jimmy is worried about I'm not sure.

Then we get the message from corporate and Jimmy is instantly out of there. Which brings me back to the beginning. Jimmy likes it there cause "we're in control" and yet when the responsibility of that control shows up he excuses himself. Granted there may be a rule that no one else can be in the room when messages come in but that reinforces the fact that Jimmy doesn't have any power on paper. He's not a co-captain. Jimmy's sense of control comes from his power over Curly.

So yeah my final thoughts? This conversation is unhealthy and it's the nicest conversation we see Jimmy have with the actual Curly. We get a little joking around here and there but one on one longer convos? This is as nice as it gets. In context Curly experiences feelings of fear, anxiety, and isolation on his way to this conversation. It's full of unhealthy moments and the one sided prioritizing of Jimmy's feelings. The status quo for them has not changed yet. If this is an example of what their average conversations are like their relationship is emotionally abusive.

Imagine having a friendship where you have to always prioritize your friend's emotions over your own. Where if you say something that bothers them they take verbal potshots at you. Where they make you feel guilty for being more successful. Where they make your vulnerabilities about them. It's like I said it's links in a chain. By themselves it's not a problem but together over time these behaviors will do damage to a person.

And putting this conversation back into context this is one of three verbally abusive moments we witness in the span of a week. And there are indicators that in each that these abusive behaviors aren't new. Curly in this conversation doesn't question Jimmy claiming control or the "praise for you is annoying" comment. None of this is weird to him and that's a bad sign. Abusive behavior was already normalized on the Tulpar, it was a powder keg waiting to happen.

[furiousgoldfish]

Share your biggest red flags for friends/romantic partners! If you feel like it, explain why are these your red flgs. Mine are:

aggressive/threatening behaviour or phrases (if they even jokingly say 'I'll kill you' they're out)

physical violence (it happens even with friends sadly)

gaslighting (if someone tries to revise the past to make themselves look better, out)

self-obsession (only talks abt themselves, neglects you and doesn't care for your plights)

bigotry (say something racist, homophobic or sexist, or otherwise hateful towards minorities, out)

guilt-tripping and emotional manipulation (if I constantly feel guilty around them, nah)

responds badly to boundaries (If I withdraw for my mental health and they get angry at me, out)

lack of basic empathy (if they're apathetic to the world's suffering, thats crazy to me)

attempts at control (if they try telling me what to do, wear, where to go, what decisions to make, no thank you)

insists on quickly developing connection (if they're pretending we're soulmates and need to immediately be super close like we know each other forever, open up and bond about everything, and they don't respond to attempts at slowing it down, thats creepy bye)

you only exist for them sometimes (you are completely ignored until the exact second they need something or have nobody else to complain to)

conscenders/criticts/beraters (talk to me rudely and you are chucked. I will not be condescended to by god or anyone else)