#hyper-endurance of fun

[mydonkeyfeet]

Autistic hyper-endurance of fun?

Does autism have a thing where one lacks the neurotypical degradation-of-fun mechanism? I still don't know if I'm autistic or not (most online tests say not quite) but I've read that neurotypicals have a friendship degradation mechanism, which I definitely lack, where eventually they lose interest in old friends and move on. For me, I tend to think with naive optimism that every friendship will last forever. Fortunately, many of my friends are neurodiverse and also lack that mechanism.

But I've noticed that some autistic family members and I have experienced a thing where something stays fun or funny for us long past everyone else.

At my job in my 20s, we all made a game of hiding plastic Easter eggs in unexpected places all over our workplace, with silly notes or drawings inside, and when we found one, we would hide it for the next person. Eventually, my coworkers would just give them to me to hide again because they got tired of the effort (though they still enjoyed finding them. I think.)

In a less happy experience, in high school my friends and I would write silly stories together, one sentence at a time, passing the pages back and forth throughout every class. Some stories were short and finished in one period, and some were long and lasted a whole semester, but they were all hilarious. One friend who I'll call Prune had been my friend for nearly our whole K-12 years, and we wrote many stories together. But during our final year, suddenly for some reason she started hating my existence. I could not figure out why, I still don't know, but at the time all I could think was "Maybe if we write more stories, she'll laugh and have fun and we'll get back to normal." And she seemed to hate our stories too, though she still wrote ones with our other friends. She would even pass them to a classmate and ask them not to return it to me until the end of class, making them seem like the bad guy. While I thought we could have a fun collaboration like a game of catch, I realize now that it was more like I was the stupid naive but innocent dog thinking, "Human is sad. Maybe we should play ball? Throw my ball? Will that make you happy? Throw it?" and she was the person holding the slobbery ball who is absolutely sick of playing fetch with that stupid dog. (She did still write stories with our other friends though, so I'm still clueless why she hated me. They kept writing stories with me too, and seemed to keep enjoying it.)

Anyway, I realized today that my dad, who we now suspect may have been autistic (who died last year) also exhibited some of these hyper-endurance-of-fun mechanisms with me that drove me up the wall as a child and teen. Long past it was appropriate, he was playing baby pinchy games with me that I hated, and speaking with my old baby talk that embarrassed me. And he knew I was irritated but was probably clueless why, just like I was with Prune. He thought we were sharing a fun childhood memory, and I was annoyed that he was fixated on something from my ancient history that I no longer enjoyed, and that he still saw me as a silly baby. And like Prune, I didn't have the words or the nerves to explain it to him.

Nowadays, I have to remind myself that what's fun for me may not stay fun for my friends (including remaining in a fandom or participating in our old activities) as well as reminding myself that they have a friendship degradation mechanism, and they're allowed to move on from me. I'm not actually a sad dog with a slobbery ball.

But I'm 45 and I still haven't forgiven Prune.

[24kmar]

𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( A. Donaldson, T. Ducan)

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Art Donaldson x Fem!reader, Tashi duncan x reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Angst, Standoffish Reader, female manipulator! reader (wolf in sheeps clothing), language, age gap! (Early 30's art, early 20's reader).

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌��𝐑𝐘: Art notices how much the pressure tashi is putting on you is changing you.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: sorry this is short 😭

Art was the first to notice it.

There was no doubt y/n was different, soso different. Everyone noticed it, especially art. It was uncanny really, how much she was like tashi. They always knew y/n was like her, but she was still so different from her.

She was warm, compassionate, sweet. Thats why art fell inlove with her, she was different from tashi. He knew she loved him, and not in the way he knew tashi loved him. Until now, now he was reliving tashi all over again.

It worried him, how she ate less, slept less, every waking moment spent on tennis. He knew y/n was a perfectionist, but he didnt think it was this bad. He saw tashi in her. So much of tashi. He saw it in her eyes, how tired she was. But whenever he tried to express his concern, y/n shut him down immediately. Human endurance was on hell of a drug.

Now it got to the point where how she felt about him was determined by how he did tennis wise. Something she was always so understanding about. With y/n it used to be 'win or lose, ill always love you', now it was 'all or nothing'.

Even then, she was still different from tashi. When he lost, tashi would coach him harder, chew his ear off, make him better. With y/n, it was radio silence. She'd just ignore him, stay quiet, thinking. Somehow, that was so much worse. He rather her yell at him, tell him he sucks, than to just keep him in the dark, wanting to know what she was thinking.

Tashi was the second to notice it.

The way y/n became so hyper focused when playing tennis, but so distracted when she wasnt. Playing back videos of her tennis games. Analyzing her each and every move. Picking apart every flaw she had while playing.

Y/n was more anxious. Training harder. Now tennis wasnt a hobby. You know that saying "do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life."? It wasnt like that anymore. It wasnt play to have fun. It was play to win.

Tashi loved this attitude. Shit, she wished art still had it. But it was starting to scare her. The way y/n looked colder, the way she always seemed to be out of it, almost always spacing out, unless it was something about tennis.

She didnt mean for it to go this far. It hurt, it hurt to see y/n's spirit so broken. Seeing the woman she loves personality so dampened. But it also worked for her. It pushed y/n closer to her, farther from art and patrick. She liked that. She needed that. She needed y/n to be hers, and solely hers. But she needed to fix this. She knew it was her fault, the pressure getting to y/n.

What really got her was what y/n said to art the day of one of his games. The day he said he loved y/n. Waiting for her to say it back, needing that comfirmation before a game like he always did. To which y/n replied "prove it" walking away and sitting down. He couldnt believe what he was hearing. His sweet, warm y/n didnt even say it back.

Niether could tashi. It was like she was looking in a fucking mirror. Like she was watching herself talk to art. He knew what y/n meant. She wanted him to prove her love for her on that court. And he did. He won.

Tashi didnt have bad intentions. She just wanted to make y/n successful. She wanted to see the girl she loved thrive. She would fix this, no matter what. Tashi would do whatever she needed to get the old y/n back. That was a promise, and tashi always kept her promises.

[elvisslut]

Why must we be like this

Warnings- ALL PARTIES ARE 18+, best friends dad, cheating on wife, drugs, smut!, foot fetish, power kink, cursing, elvis pushing reader to limit, manipulation, age gap, anal, oblivious reader, virgin reader (Lisa was born earlier and is 18 as well as the reader)

You and lisa smiled widely at the large hotel her dad was staying in, the one you and her would be staying in as well, you both gave your bags to the doormen and headed upstairs, you adjusted your skirt you secretly wore just for elvis. Heading to his room with lisa, both of you running to him and forcing a group hug onto him.

“Hey girls” he says with a laugh after finding his footing again. “How was the trip?” He asks pressing a kiss to each of your heads, lingering a little longer on your head and taking in the scent of your shampoo.

“It was good..excusing me though..im gonna go take a nap in our room..y/n?” Lisa says

“Ill hang out up here a little longer, gonna watch the football game” you say, it wasn’t uncommon for that to happen either you enjoyed the games and watching elvis yell at the teams, you earn a nod from lisa before heading to the couch and sitting down, watching the ball get tossed around, you knew nothing of the sport you just poked fun at elvis.

“How was the plane ride? Y’all have a bumpy one?” He asks, you smile at him and shake your head. “No it was smooth, till lisa tried to drive, its like when you try to drive the plane” you say with a chuckle, getting a eye roll from Elvis.

“It made me chip my nail..it really upset me, the ones you took us to get done, i kept them so nice till today” you sigh as you looks at the chipped nail, elvis reaches over and grabs your hand, looking at the nail himself. “Well ‘m sorry honey..i can take ya to fix ‘em..” he said softly, running his finger over the chip.

“Its fine crazy, ill live” you chuckle, pulling your hand away and laying your head back on the couch. “Priscilla is wanting to come up by the way. Shes really gotta stop ticking me off too. She acts like she-, nevermind forgot i was talking to you” he frowns at your cut off and shakes his head. “No honey, talk to me.” He softly spoke, laying his hand on your leg and squeezing softly.

“Well..I don’t want you mad..” you say, sighing and messing with your nail. “If ya don’t stop messin’ with your nails ill get them redone, hows cilla been to ya baby. I could never get mad at ya” you sigh and look at the tv.

“Shes just a bitch sometimes..she acts better then me..she likes to exclude me from things that lisa wants me to be a part of an’ she doesn’t let me stay the night when youre gone..” you explain, elvis takes in what you said and frowns deeper.

“‘M so sorry honey..ill talk to her” he reassured, panic set in as he got up, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down, accidentally pulling too hard. It caused him to come crashing down on you, his hip pressed up against your pelvis, forcing him to rut against your thigh, his nose slammed into your forehead.

Elvis groaned in both pain and pleasure. “Ow, fuck sorry..” you mumble, rubbing where his nose hit. Not realizing he was straddling your thigh, creating a problem for himself.

“Dont..dont call her..please..” you begged softly, earning a sigh and reluctant nod, getting off you and clearing his throat. “If you call her el..she might not let me see lisa when you’re gone..I need my best friend..” you add to ensure he didn’t call his wife.

“You’re such a good friend to my lil’ yisa ya know that?” He says, smiling and crouching down to be eye level with you. “I try to be..all you guys mean so much too me..” you say softly, he started to become hyper aware of your features. Your lips looked so red and kissable with that pretty lipstick you applied, you’re eyes shone brighter then the stage lights he had to endure every night. You were nothing less then a goddess, how had he not realized what the look you always gave him meant, how you look at him with a small pout, puppy eyes he wants to kiss your whole face.

“Hello?” You say with a chuckle. “Sorry baby..” he breathes out, getting up and straightening out his jacket, clearing his throat. “Games almost over, ya should probably head down to the room” he says sitting back down and keeping his eyes on the tv.

You nod, getting up and going to the door. Elvis trained his eyes on your legs, looking up to your ass and back down. You were really oblivious to how he’s looking at you, especially when he’s drugged up. He doesn’t hide it well but he hides it enough for you not to notice.

You went down to the room he got for you and lisa, going in and getting on your bed. “Your dad is so weird sometimes” you say, shaking your head and chuckling. “Yeah, I don’t think he knows how to act around anyone” she says jokingly, you nod in agreement.

—A week later—

You said goodnight to lisa and headed up to Elvis’ room, you had promised to watch a movie with him- well you and lisa but lisa was too tired so you went alone.

You went in and smiled as you seen elvis ready with popcorn, candy and some other snacks. He smiled up at you then quirked a brow.

“Wheres yisa?” He asks, you go over and sit down, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and covering up then stealing some of the popcorn.

“Shes too tired so its just me tonight” you say after swallowing. He nods and presses play on the remote, scooting closer to you and taking some of the blanket. He wrapped his arm around you and gently pulled you closer to him as well.

“She gonna come to the next one?” He asks, as much as he did want to be alone with you right now, he still wished lisa would have came too.

“Yes crazy she’s coming to the next one” you say. He nods and lays his hand on the outer part of your thigh, rubbing his thumb against your skin softly. Happy you wore the short pajama shorts he’d bought you a few months back.

He looked at you as you paid attention to the movie, taking in every detail of you. He clenched his jaw and moved his hand to the inside part of your thigh, pulling your legs apart.

“What are you doing?” You ask softly, looking at him. He swallowed back and clenched his jaw again.

“Tryin’ to make ya more comfortable” he lies, he knew you wouldn’t question him- matter-of-fact he knew you’d believe him. He could manipulate you so easily and he knew it.

You nod and look back at the tv. You poor thing, he thought. He was trying so hard to hold back but he wanted you, one thing about Elvis is he gets what he wants.

And what he wants is to corrupt the hell out of you. You had talked about sex with him before, you wanted to wait for the right man. Elvis believed- knew, he was the right man.

His hand traveled up your thigh as you kept watching the movie. He had no chance at paying attention to the movie, without anything stopping him he knew he’d get what he wants, tonight.

“Look at me for a second sweet girl” he says, bringing his other hand up and making you look at him.

“I want ya to tell me somethin’ an’ i want the god honest truth. Got it?” He says, you nod softly. “What do ya think of me?” He asks.

“I love you, you and Lisa mean alot to me. You’re like family” you say smiling at him, he frowns a bit. “N-not what i meant baby..all of lisas other friends find me attractive an’ what not, do ya think the same?” He asks, your cheeks heat up as try to look down, Elvis making you continue to look at him.

“Well..yeah..but everyone does I figured it wouldn’t be so bad..” you answer. He smirks and shakes his head. “No baby it ain’t, i just needed to know” he says before pressing his palm against you.

Your eyes widen a bit, trying to look down but Elvis tightened his grip on your face. “Let me take care of ya” he says biting his lip. “Elvis..is this something we’re supposed to be doing?” You ask.

He clenched his jaw and nodded. “Yeah” he says, of course you believed him. He shouldn’t be manipulating you but he cant help it when it comes so easy. He craves to be near you. He craves to be in you.

“I wanna-..i want ya to have the rest of my kids.” He says, you frown and search his face. He didn’t want to sink so low but he was about to. He was going to completely manipulate you into being with him.

“God made ya for me, he made that very clear to me” he says, he knows that you’d listen to him but you would definitely listen to god. You were a pure Christian girl.

“Oh..what about lisa?” You ask. He shakes his head “don’ tell her a word of what happens tonight” he responds, you nod in understanding.

“What do you want me to do Elvis?” You ask, he smirks and pulls the blanket off the both of you. “Take them pretty short off an’ sit in my lap okay, ill show ya the rest” he says, you shake your head and look at your hands.

“I didn’t..i didn’t put on anything underneath” you say, Elvis gets up and goes to his room, grabbing a white pair of underwear with a little pink bow on them, going back out and handing them to you.

“Change into them for me baby” you nod and get up as he sits back down, changing into the underwear and getting in his lap.

Elvis lets out a soft sigh. “This is gonna be a bit of a weird feelin’ but it’s gonna make me feel so so so good baby..” he says, grabbing your hips and moving you slowly against his crotch.

“Oh fuck..yes..” he huffs, you frown at the feeling, it feels good just unusual. “I need to be in ya..i gotta..” he says impatiently, he pulls the underwear you just got on off and pulls his pants down as he lays you against the couch.

He wasn’t going to be easy with you and he felt bad but he was too far gone. His lust for you was so intense, he could not think a single thought except for how hard he’s going to fuck you.

Without much of a warning he lined himself up and slammed his hips forward, your eyes widen as a scream comes out of you, he moves his hand to your mouth and shakes his head. “Don’ scream, holy fuck..” he huffs, leaning down and kissing your head.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you stared at him, he was a mess over you, there was no way he could stop himself now- now that he’s made you a woman. You’re his, you’re all his. It’s all he’s longed for and he finally has you.

He moves his hips at a fast pace, being extra sure to slam all of himself into you with every thrust. Tears continued to fall down your cheeks as he did.

“Baby don’ cry, it’ll feel good soon..trust your crazy. Me an’ lil’ elvis would never hurt ya..oh fuck.. fuck relax baby, youre gonna cut my damn dick off if you keep tensing up like that” he says, you gulp as it very slowly turns into more pleasure then pain.

“Thats it baby..you’re so good for me..such a good girl..”he says, moving his hand from your mouth and pressing his lips to yours sloppy, he shoved his tongue into your mouth, trying to get you to be as sloppy as him. It worked.

You make him a completely different- crazy version of himself, he’d murder to be with you again. Literally.

He pulled away and pulled your shirt off, squeezing one of your breasts softly. “Oh my god..” you moan.

“Not god, just me baby..” he huffs cockily. He’d officially done it, what he’s craved, what he’s pray to be helped, he’s corrupted the poor little woman under him. In such the worst way, but he couldn’t help it. The second you sat on his lap he lost all control of himself.

You were about to reach your climax as he pulls up, definitely a first experience, but he was quick to flip you over and pull you up, slamming himself right back into you, gripping onto your hair and pulling your head back.

“Let the world hear what i do to ya baby..let them know who ya gave yourself to” he huffs, looking at the window, looking at the view of the city and smirking as he hears your moans, different words you use in place of curse words and his name.

Music to his ears is what it was. He’s only ever dreamed of this, he wasn’t so sure this wasn’t a dream he was in a trance of his own as you moaned louder, catching your release.

He smiles widely and slams himself harder into you, catching his own release and making sure you get every drop of him before he pulls out.

You collapse on your stomach and huff as you try to catch your breath. He’s not done though he wants to ruin everything of yours. He gets up and grabs you, making you sit up.

“Open your mouth” he says, pinching your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger. Watching you open your mouth before he grabs the sides of your head, pulling you forward before pressing himself into your mouth, going all the way in making you gag around him.

“Oh..” he breathes out, you looked up through your lashes tiredly. That only turned him on more, he held your head in place and pushed his hips up against your face before moving back and forth at a little bit of a slower pace than he was earlier.

“Ya my personal lil’ sex toy ain’t ya baby? Doin’ so good not talkin’ back or anythin’” he says, smirking as you gag around him again. “Not that ya can really talk back right no- woah! Hey! Watch the teeth shit” he says sternly.

You frown your brows up at his tone, tears that already collected in your eyes from gagging falling down. You can’t really do much to help yourself seeing as he was still face fucking you.

He noticed your change in demeanor somehow and chuckled. “I aint mad, just watch out, lil’ Elvis is sensitive.” He says, you nod as much as you can before he goes back to spitting curses and praises, soon coming to his second release of the night.

Letting go in your throat and making you swallow as he pulls out. “Thats my girl..you’re doin’ so good for me” he says, leaning down and grabbing your leg, rubbing down to feet and humming as he looks at them.

“Ya got some pretty feet baby..makes me want more..” he says, your eyes widen.

“I don’t know if i can take it elvis..” you say softly. “Ya can baby, i got ya, just a few more times then ya can get some rest” he says, you nod a bit and watch him go to the tv, putting something else in and going back to the couch.

He sits down and pulls you into his lap so you can see the tv. “Ya know them dancin’ videos ya use to follow? You’re gonna watch this an’ learn how to do it, don’ let lisa see it.” He says, you nod and watch as the movie starts, your lips parting as you watch.

Elvis lifts you up and lines himself up, lowering you down. You quickly look back at him and get off him.

“You missed” you say, he laughs and shakes his head. “No i didn’ baby, i was where i wanted to be” he says, you hesitate a second before getting back in his lap.

He lifts you up again and lowers you back on him, a soft moan leaves your mouth as he does. You try to keep your eyes on the tv, subconsciously looking away as some of the scenes start but elvis quickly makes you look back at the tv.

This poor couch, you thought, glancing down then looking back at the tv. Elvis lays his hand on the back of your neck and leans you down as he stands up, you press your hands to the coffee table looking at the tv again as he slams himself into, again..

“Fuck..” elvis moans lowly, squeezing your ass. “Elvis, i don’t think i can take much more..” you say as softly as you possibly could in the moment.

“Ya can, just shut your mouth for a minute” he says, pulling you up by your hair. “Be good for me..id hate to punish ya for bein’ a bad girl” he adds, and that worked, you don’t want him to call you that because that would absolutely destroy you.

Not too long after he was catching his release again, huffing and sitting down with you still in his lap.

“Just a few more times baby, i promise” he says, lifting you up and laying you against the couch. He gets between your legs and leans down, wasting no time and immediately pressing his tongue into you.

You moan and tangle your fingers in his hair. “Oh-..” you breathe out in surprise, laying your head back. The feeling of his tongue soothing the ache a little bit.

“That feels nice..” you hum, rolling your hips against his face. He moves a hand to your foot and brings your foot down to his dick. He rubbed your foot softly against him, making him groan against his tongue.

He presses himself against your the bottom of your foot, rutting himself against it. “Elvis-..oh-“ you huff as you catch your release yet again.

He follows after you, coming on your foot as he licks up your release. “You’re so damn good..” he says, rubbing your foot softly before getting on his knees, pulling you to him and rubbing himself against you.

“That feel good? Ya sure make me feel good..” he says, you nod and moan weakly. “So good..” he breathes out. “‘M gonna make sure ya have my child.” He adds before pressing himself into, going even faster than before somehow, pulling weak and tired moans from you.

“‘M sorry” he breathes out, he was starting to feel bad but we wasn’t going to stop till he had his fill. “It’s okay..” you mumble.

He continued and continued pushing you to your limit, even pushing himself, he lost count of how many times he’s came. After a while he slows down and pulls out, leaning down and wrapping his arms around you.

“Go to sleep..i got ya” he says, kissing your head and picking you up, taking you to the bedroom, laying you down and going to the bathroom, cleaning the blood on your thighs and going to the living room, cleaning up the couch and the mess of popcorn.

He grabs your shorts when he’s done and goes to the bedroom getting your hair brushed out a bit before he decides to start a bath to get you cleaned up.

He goes and starts it, waiting for it to fill up then picking you up, taking you to the bath. He carefully washes your hair out and cleans off your body, paying extra attention to your foot and thighs.

He gets done and grabs you out of the bath, getting your hair dried and your body then putting your clothes on you, grabbing some lotion and rubbing your legs and feet softly trying to help some of what you’ll feel in the morning.

Once he’s got you ready for bed he lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down and kissing you softly, looking over your face as you sleep.

“‘M so sorry lil’..” he whispered before getting himself cleaned up and ready for bed, he crawls in by you and wraps his arms around you going to sleep.

The moment you wake up and go to move, tears fill your eyes. “Ow” you breathe out, Elvis hums and stirs awake, pulling you closer to him making the pain worse making you hiss.

“Elvis let go of me..” you say, tears slipping down your cheeks, he looks up at you with guilt in his eyes.

“‘M sorry baby..” he says softly, letting go of you. You sigh in relief and close your eyes, staying as still as possible. “Did you mean to hurt me?” You ask softly, opening your eyes and looking at him.

“No..i just..i couldn’ help myself..’m so sorry..” he says, laying a hand on your thigh and gently rubbing up and down.

“Ill be more careful..” he says softly.

[alphaofdarkness]

Happy Sabine Week everyone ✨

Here’s a drawing for @sabineweek’s “honorable mentions” prompt list for day 1: Space Tiger

Just a happy, half-Lyca-Tiger, Mandalorian lass with a happy loth-cat, taking joy of the liberated Lothal. I wonder who she is smiling at ? 👀 🧡

—

After creating my self insert for Star Wars Rebels and the self-insert species she takes after, I’ve had fun thoughts on what kind of Lyca-Beast Sabine would take on. Tiger (and her starbird too) was definitely my first thought after sometime and was further inspired when the honorable mentions had Space Tiger included in the prompt list 🐯💜

Much like any Lyca-Beast, Sabine has abilities that are unique to her such as her skin and fur being pyro-resistant 🔥💥, strength and endurance, and having keen hyper-senses. She is able to hide her ears and markings just fine (along with other features that manifest, most from strong emotions) with the exception of her tail, which she enjoys dying/styling like her hair. Her markings are unique and take similar characteristics to her starbird and that of Clan Wren.

Sabine’s pose was inspired by this pose of Natasha 🥰✨

Including my initial thought sketches here too 😌🐯may still try out drawing Sabine with a tiger 🐯🤍

[bellowsmith]

Outliers and why MTMTE frustrates me so bad /affectionate

So, outliers are weird obviously, I mean transformers X-men is inherently silly. But like, why did James Roberts introduce it to us...and then just never bring up anything about it again? There's no rules about how outliers come into existence. Are they born or made? Yesn't? Cause sometimes they're made but only temporarily, and what is or isn't an outlier is never defined (A la Hotrod's flames for exactly 2 panels). So, I guess here's my little head canon for how I have them operate in my Au's and fanfics not that anyone asked:

Rule number 1: Outliers are made not born. Outlier abilities form as a response to some form of intense trauma that forces the victim's body to panic so hard it hyper-evolves a defense mechanism. The ability they manifest will entirely depend on the need/situation they aquired it in. Starscream's eternal spark perhaps was due to a gunshot straight to the chest, or Skids perhaps endured a very prolonged situation that forced him to learn his way out of a bunch of situations.

Rule number 2: Outlier abilities are a manifestation of trauma, negative emotions, and can/will harm the mecha they evolved to protect. Despite Shockwave's "conclusive evidence" that repeated trauma will increase the power level of an outlier ability, which is technically true, it comes at a cost. Repeated and prolonged trauma will degrade the psyche of the recipient and has shown that outliers are exponentially more susceptible to forming intense mental or mood disorders. Periods of irritability or intense negative emotions are liable to trigger a release of outlier abilities as a self defense mechanism, however even the outlier themself may be hurt in the crossfire.

Rule number 3: Outlier abilities are the beginning of apotheosis, a seed of potential divinity should their wielders prove capable. Few to none have ever achieved full ascension in written history, though the Functionist council made sure to erase all mention of such an idea well before the golden age. This information isn't known to the public and was kept under lock and key while the Functionists began the outlier smear campaign and attempted to subjugate or kill all of them before any "minor heathen godlings" could emerge and threaten their clergy.

This is the general outline for how I think about them anyway, feel free to use it if you feel like it. Some other things I tend to add in are that outliers tend to be much more likely to be lower class due to the likelihood of extreme trauma being most common there. They also have a tendency towards addictive personalities as most find the easiest way to keep a damper on their powers is to self medicated with substances to dull their senses.

It really is just robot PTSD but with superpowers and consequences, but given the personalities of all the known outliers in MTMTE I definitely noticed a few patterns I thought could be fun to explore.

[lovesick-joey]

I want to yap about my dc ocs because I can't keep them in my mind forever and I have to be annoying about it. so here's a post dedicated to them

▾ Sneakers / Crusader Cat

OVERVIEW ▸ Sneakers is a heroic stray cat who gained powers after an encounter with a sorceress. He lives in Gotham City and is a protector to other stray critters inhabiting in the crime-ridden place. He has three wives; Queen, Bun Bun, and Loretta and has a total of 8 kids. He is a part-time member of the Justice League and a full-time member of the Legion of Super-Pets. Humans call him Crusader Cat.

DIRECTORY ▸ Extended Info ⇀ @sneakers-crusadercat (RP account)

▾ Eugene Amsel / Golden Condor

OVERVIEW ▸ Eugene Amsel was once a former member of a cult (unnamed), but after it's fall he became a notorious vigilante from Gotham City going by the name of Golden Condor. On command, he had the ability to instill fear into his enemies just by touching them or being near them. His methods of fighting crime were cruel and brutal, and he lacked the empathy to give mercy. He will make a person's life hell if they go against him. He was a member of the Justice League and was in an on-and-off relationship with Batman. He is currently deceased.

DIRECTORY ▸ Extended Info ⇀ TGCS

▾ Chauncey the Green Lantern cat

OVERVIEW ▸ Chauncey was a stray living in the streets of Jump City. He endured many challenges as he grew up, and after a near-death experience with saving a life, the Guardians granted him a place in the Green Lantern Corps. He was eventually adopted by Noelle Jonas and gained two dog siblings named Jumper and Duke. He is a close friend of Sneakers.

DIRECTORY ▸ N/A / STBA

▾ Shrub / Super-kitten

OVERVIEW ▸ A highly intelligent, shape-shifting alien who takes the form of a small kitten. His origins are unknown and so are his intentions. He is close friends with Sneakers and Chauncey, who are presumably the cause for his preferred form. While he can speak many languages, he prefers not to. He lives in the sewers of Gotham City.

DIRECTORY ▸ N/A / STBA

▾ Cleo / Rascal

OVERVIEW ▸ A six-year-old vigilante with superpowers in which the origins of getting them are unknown. She has superhuman reflexes and enchanted hearing that ables her to hear things in frequencies an average human can't. She can generate and manipulate electricity. She can also summon lightning, though this depends on how excited and hyper she gets. It is uncertain where she came from, as she doesn’t have biological parents nor other family members. She currently lives in Central City where she resides in a local hospital which she calls home. The staff serve as her found family.

DIRECTORY ▸ N/A / STBA

now moving onto ocs that I haven't made art for, or expanded on their lore yet!

▾ Conroy

OVERVIEW ▸ Conroy is a 7-year-old boy who was an experiment by Lex Luthor. He was created using the DNA of half the founding members of the Justice League; Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, Green Lantern, The Flash, and Aquaman. This makes him very powerful, as he had inherited their abilities and powers. Lex created Conroy with the purpose to obliterate the Justice League. However, Conroy had rebelled against him and escaped from his control. (Note: in the universe he's set in, he replaces Kon-El. Kon-El does not exist.)

DIRECTORY ▸ N/A / STBA

▾ Gospel

OVERVIEW ▸ He was once a man named Joshua Rock, a poacher who hunted down animals for trophies and for the fun of it. Now he is a wolf-like creature who resides in forests, swearing to protect it's inhabitants. He stays far away from society and could only remember snippets of his original life as a human. He comes out at night from time to time to watch humans, and though he comes across as frightening, he is quite peaceful if him or wildlife aren't bothered. He is an ally of Swamp Thing.

DIRECTORY ▸ N/A / STBA

▾ Nora Halsa

OVERVIEW ▸ Nora is a 12-year-old girl who grew up in a lab. Her father was the head of the lab and he had experimented with her as soon as her mother passed away, resulting in Nora having strange powers and abilities. She has telekinesis and could summon sharp shards of glass to protect herself and others, she also has healing capabilities. She has albinism. She is insecure, empathetic, and a people-pleaser.

DIRECTORY ▸ N/A / STBA

[kylorengarbagedump]

Playing Soldier: Chapter 7

Read on AO3. Part 6 here. Part 8 here.

Summary: The longest stay you've ever had from home is about to become much longer.

Words: 5000

Warnings: Medical trauma

Characters: William Tavington x Reader

A/N: Cowritten with @bastillia <3

Off we go into the field! We are loving your comments, your thoughts, your excitement and engagement in the story - truly, we are so lucky. I hope you continue to enjoy what we have planned for the future!!

Please credit all of Grace's letter to Bastillia and her genius. Also, please thank Bastillia for her newly formed fixation on the American Revolutionary War - it's because of this we can't help but bring in actual historical figures like they're our blorbos as well, HAHAHA. It's been a lot of fun learning about history and integrating it into the fic (even if The Patriot was not always hyper-concerned about this LOL)

Love you so much! <3

The letter was crisp, addressed in handwriting that swirled across the page like fairy dust. Grace’s penmanship, for certain—something you’d always envied when comparing it to yours, which bore more resemblance to cresting waves in a storm than anything meant for man’s eyes. It had been dated for a little over a week prior.

“Thank you,” you said to Goddard. “You said this was given to you by whom?”

“Major Ferguson,” he said, stepping further into the kitchen. Then, upon glimpsing your expression and perhaps realizing you couldn’t have possibly known who in God’s sweet Holiness that was, he continued bashfully, “The Major, er, commands another unit that was deployed into the backcountry. Lord Cornwallis ordered most of us to return here to Charleston about a day ago.”

You nodded, turning the paper over in your hands. “I see.” What you wanted to ask but didn’t: Does that include Colonel Tavington, then?

It’d been about two weeks since you’d last seen him in his office. You supposed he’d made good on his intention and set out from Charleston that evening. But he’d been in the field since then, and the status of your parole hung in the balance. Ghoulishly, a part of you had hoped he’d been killed in action. Perhaps even more ghoulishly, another, hungrier part of you had wished for him to return.

You’d tried to sate that part with nightly hand-feedings proffered between your legs—but still its appetite rose anew and greedy every morning.

“Who is it from?” said Lottie. “Your sister?” She peered over your shoulder, her red curls bouncing into her face.

Goddard gave a playful frown, running his hand through hair that matched his sister’s in color and texture. “I suppose I’m not offered a greeting?”

Lottie laughed, moving around you and throwing herself into his arms. “Welcome home, Benny.”

You grinned. “Yes,” you said. “It’s from Grace.” You peeled open the wax seal and started to read.

June 10 1780

My Dearest Sister,

Though I write this on only the sixth day since I bade you farewell, I feel it has been a lifetime. You will be glad to know that I was yesterday evening delivered home in most agreeable fashion by the company of a Major Ferguson, who attended to my utmost comfort and happiness the whole journey from Charlestown ; a great improvement, I say, upon the accommodations granted to me thence.

It has been made plain to me that the disruptions we endured, Sister, were the most unfortunate results of misunderstanding. A pity that though I beseech God to upend time, He does not heed me. Impossible notions vex and bedevil my sleep night upon night—would that I might stay Death’s hand before he took Mary and Nathaniel and Elijah and Adam. I can hardly bear to think of them, yet it is with shame and difficulty that I place my thoughts anywhere else.

In my most fitful hours on the road—

“I hate to interrupt,” said Goddard, very irritatingly interrupting. “But I fear the hospital may soon be teeming. We skirmished with militia on the road, and our field medic couldn’t attend every man.”

“Oh!” Lottie looked at you, her brown eyes wide with concern. “We should certainly go and help, then.”

You frowned. You were already feeling a little concerned about Grace’s inclination to Loyalist sympathy in the letter. “Can I not have ten more minutes?”

Goddard shook his head. “The colonel already wishes to depart this evening and needs every possible man made fit.”

So Tavington was back in Charleston. For now.

“Out again?” Lottie said. “But you all only just returned.”

“Yes.” Wincing, Goddard stepped past you both to grab a cloth hanging from the stove. As he wiped his face, he sighed. “Lord Cornwallis is holding a council of war. Colonel Tavington is in attendance with the other commanders, but he hopes to gather more cavalry and depart again by nightfall.” He looked apologetic. “You know how he is.”

You pursed your lips, folding the letter and stowing it in one of your skirt pockets. You know how he is, he’d said, as if everyone in the room all had the same experiences with Colonel Tavington, and everyone in the room all held the same opinion about his demeanor, body, face, hair, hands, and eyes.

And mouth.

“A council of war?” you asked, pushing thoughts of all of William Tavington’s body parts to a corner of your mind that you’d revisit in the evening. “What ever for? I thought the Continental army had left South Carolina.”

“Most of them,” said Goddard, plucking a peach from a bowl on the counter. “But they aren’t the problem. Evidently there’s been a disaster involving a group of Loyalists that the General sent north.” He bit into the fruit and sighed, savoring it.

“What sort of disaster?” Lottie asked, her eyes great dark pools of worry.

Goddard shrugged. “Men died,” he said around a mouthful of peach flesh before swallowing. “Lots of them. Don’t know the specifics. I expect we will be receiving new enlistment quotas, though, especially with these militia pestering us now.”

Lottie frowned. “Perhaps we should—”

“Have you had many encounters with militia?” you asked, your pulse picking up. “They seem to have amassed rather quickly.”

“Putting it lightly,” said Goddard, sighing. “Even with Charleston back under the Crown, it seems the rest of the colony remains determined to resist. We even found a small holdout of Continentals up the Santee.”

“Continentals?” you pressed, struggling to maintain a neutral facade. “I query why they would not have rejoined their forces in North Carolina by now.”

“Seems they received a dispatch following the Waxhaws battle, and stayed.” Goddard shrugged and took another bite of peach. “Tenacious, those men, I’ll admit as much.”

“I’m sure it’s all very interesting,” Lottie said, waving you toward her. “But if the hospital—”

“Did your forces engage them? How many were there?” You spoke just a little too quickly, but you were finding it harder to restrain yourself. “What was in the dispatch they received?”

Goddard raised a brow and glanced at Lottie. You consciously corrected your posture so that he might not think you liable to lunge at any moment. He relaxed.

“I, er, I can’t be certain what it said,” he replied. “I never saw the message.”

You exhaled in frustration. “I imagine you were unable to capture the messenger himself, then.”

“Actually, we were able,” Goddard said. Your heart leapt into your mouth. “Colonel Tavington became nigh on feverish in his pursuit.”

Your next question hung like a noose from your tongue, your body rigid as a gallows. “Who…” You swallowed. “Who was the messenger?”

Goddard furrowed his brow and shook his head, like he couldn’t fathom why you were so interested. “Some boy.” He waved his bitten peach through the air. “A… ‘Martin?’”

You nearly sagged in relief, instead bracing a hand against the kitchen table and affixing a passive expression to your face. “Oh.”

“The colonel made a…” Goddard winced, “compelling example of his family.” He paused, grimacing again. “And of their property.”

“I don’t want to hear of such dreadful things,” Lottie interjected. “Anyhow, we really must be off.” She grabbed your wrist. “Let us not stay the King’s men their care.”

“Yes, of course,” you said, forcing a nod. Though your worry was assuaged, your curiosity was very much not. You had, however, pushed both too far. “Let’s be off, then.”

The morning air was already ripening with heat, sticking to your tongue as you breathed it in. You were glad to be rid of your sling, sweltering thing that it was, before the summer’s wrath descended in full. In the smallest of ways, it was freeing. Even if your shoulder did still twinge with pain from time to time, it grew stronger each day. One less restraint upon your body. And one less reason for anyone to insist you couldn’t be of use.

You had welcomed the introduction of hospital labor into your routine. It hadn't been necessary, but staying in the Goddards’ home on your own only chafed your invisible shackles. Without a distraction, you imagined yourself as an anxious dog pacing in a barren cage. Working in the hospital also gave you the opportunity to collect information while wearing one of the most innocuous disguises available.

And besides all of that—you were good at it.

“I hate that the colonel keeps Benedict away so frequently as of late,” Lottie said as you followed her on the cobblestone. “I worry about him.”

You nodded. “I'm sure he worries about you, too.”

“I’m sure he does,” she said, sighing through her lips in a blubbering sound. “He knows I languish in his absence. It’s so difficult. The loneliness, I mean.”

“The loneliness?” You frowned. “You don’t keep busy?”

She laughed. “Of course I do! But it’s no replacement for companionship. Especially of family. You know as much.” With a playful smile, she added, “Benedict tells me it’s all the more reason for me to be married.”

“Is he pushing you to marry?”

“Not in so many words,” she said. “He does seem invested in introducing me to his fellow officers as often as possible.”

You couldn’t imagine doing the same to Grace. She had been your primary companion in life since your mother had passed—in some ways, more your responsibility than your father’s. After all, for those first few years, you were the only one able to tend to the animals or the crops, you were the only one able to make the meals, or sweep the floors. You would climb into bed with her, hours after she’d fallen asleep, after your father had emptied his glass of gin and you’d gotten him to his room.

Thankfully, your father eventually put down the gin. You didn’t think it was possible to put down responsibility. You didn’t even know if you wanted to.

“I see,” you replied. “Are they kind, at least?”

Lottie snorted. “No,” she said. “Most of the Green Dragoons are utter villains.” She folded her arms protectively over her chest. “I’m much more inclined toward Major Ferguson’s corps. He only oversees men of honor.”

There was that name again, said with the same dreamy insistence that Grace had tried and failed to conceal in her writing.

“Major Ferguson,” you said, as if recalling a long-forgotten acquaintance. “I keep hearing that name today. Do you know much about him?”

“Oh, I dream of it.” She giggled with all of the secrecy of a girl with a crush on a church boy. “I think—besides my brother, of course—he might be my favorite officer of all His Majesty’s soldiers.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Truly?”

“I promise you,” she said, “you have never met a man with greater wit, charm, or passion.” She laughed and gave a teasing smirk. “I think he could convince General Washington himself to throw down his arms and pledge allegiance to the King if given half a chance.”

“I will take your impressions under advisement,” you replied, grinning. You suddenly had an idea who was likely responsible for Grace’s shifting sentiments.

When you arrived at the City Hospital, Lottie dipped off to check on the sick she’d tended to the day prior. You, personally, didn’t see the purpose in conversing with those you had no duties to and decided to sit and read through more of Grace’s letter.

In my most fitful hours on the road, when grief seemed to me a dark and terrible ocean without shore, I was sought by the gracious Major Ferguson, who told most diverting stories and drew from me laughter of a mystifying source. I query whether he may be adept with some beguiling magick to have so oft performed a vanishment of my tears. He is a clever and skillful man as well as kind.

You, I am sure, would think more highly of him than you did Nathaniel, though I fear I am now far ahead of myself, Sister, and must stay my pen lest my flights of fancy make off with me, as you know they are apt to do. I am besieged now by shame to even write it, and know that were you here, Sister, you would soothe me by turning my mind to practicalities. As such, and to ease the pain of your absence I feel again coming upon me, I shall address them. I know the welfare of our home indispensable to your peace of mind, so let me assure you of it.

Despite your growing suspicions surrounding Ferguson, a smile crept over your face as you read Grace’s report on the farm. She listed every crop that had needed tending on her return, the condition of each chicken and goat by name, and included an effusive exaltation of your neighbors who had kindly fed them in your absence.

I do not wish to be alone. Major Ferguson is to depart with his men two days hence—

The delicate clearing of a throat resounded from somewhere to your side.

You snapped from the letter, looking up to see a bashfully pleading Lottie leaning around a doorframe. This version of Lottie was becoming all too familiar given the short time you’d worked alongside her. You let out a sigh.

“Now?” you protested, raising the letter to emphasize that you were occupied.

“Please, oh please,” she stepped into full view to clasp her hands in adjuration. “There’s so much blood, it’s horrid, and the bone is broken, and—”

“All right, Lottie.” You couldn’t help yourself. You smiled. “I’ll help.”

Down the hall and into the ward, a dolorous assault slammed your senses. Injured men groaned out in chorus, and the scent of blood hung in the air like coppery vapor. Lottie ducked her head and led you over to the hospital physician—Dr. Moore—who was hovering over a badly wounded man. From what you could tell, he was a young infantry soldier, his coat removed and head wrapped in bandages. Blood smothered his face, dirt smattered his legs, and his right arm was stripped of clothing.

At least, you believed it was his arm. In its current state you couldn’t imagine it being of much use for any purpose other than occupying a dog’s mouth.

“Go on,” Lottie murmured, urging you forward. “I—I’ll be ill.”

Moore caught you both approaching and adjusted the spectacles over his nose. “Charlotte,” he said, testing with his fingers what some might call flesh, but you’d probably call meat. “Where were you? I need your assistance setting the bone.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I, um, I…”

He frowned. “He doesn’t have all day, Miss Goddard.”

She elbowed your ribs, and you hopped forward with a wince. “Actually,” you said, “I’ll assist in her stead, doctor.”

“Hm?” He looked up, squinted at you. “Poultice girl?”

You nodded, even though you'd introduced yourself multiple times. “My name is—”

“Fine, yes. Come now. Hold this for me. Just there above the wrist.”

As you stepped to assist, Lottie quickly backed away, turning pale beneath her freckles as she watched you support the bloodied, blue-mottled limb. “Oh, yes, thank you so much,” she said, turning away, “I’ll be right, ah, right down that way, so, not too far!”

“Hold on, Charlotte,” said Moore. “We still might need you.”

She whinged. You weren’t fully sure how she served in medicine when she halfway lived in fear of it.

Standing by Moore, you propped up the soldier’s wrist and elbow. He stiffened and groaned through his teeth, seeking out reassurance in your eyes. Why yours, you didn’t know—you had no words of wisdom to offer him and didn’t particularly care to think of any, especially when he was impeding the work with his wooden limbs. Lottie swept to his side and patted his other shoulder, keeping her focus on his face.

“It’s all right, sir, we’re going to take care of this quickly, I promise.”

He winced, nodding, and loosened in your grip. You glimpsed her for a moment, her gaze like a deep, warm embrace. This part came as naturally to her as yours did you.

It ached, how much she reminded you of Grace in that moment. The last line you’d read of Grace’s letter—I do not wish to be alone—pricked your heart like a needle. You did not wish for her to be alone, either. You did not wish to be here, in Charleston, spending time gathering scraps of information when you knew she waited as the tender, vulnerable center of your home.

Moore started to work, and you stood still, bracing the soldier’s arm as he wiped away the blood. Even if granted leave, however, you were uncertain if you wanted to return home. The threat of the British grew greater in South Carolina, and under the supposition that both Grace and you were Loyalists, you could maintain a semblance of safety. Especially with your father’s condition still unknown and Tavington still itching for the opportunity to wring all of your necks.

Behind you, the clicking of heels. “And this is our most esteemed physician, Dr. Henry Moore.” It was the matron of the hospital. “Dr. Moore?”

“A bit busy right now,” Dr. Moore said. The soldier groaned as Moore palpated the skin on his forearm, coaxing the severed halves of bone together beneath.

“Can you take a moment?” she asked, before walking toward the other end of the ward. She tossed over her shoulder, “Colonel Tavington wishes to speak with you.”

Your eyes widened. You turned, met Tavington’s gaze and flinched, jerking the soldier’s arm. He howled in pain, and you grumbled, grabbing a wad of unused bandages and stuffing them in his mouth. He whimpered into them. Dr. Moore sighed, manually readjusted your grip, and got back to work on his sabotaged bone setting.

Tavington, meanwhile, regarded you as you imagined he might regard a body climbing to its feet after he’d gutted it. His right hand flexed absently at his side. All you could do was stare at him completely normally and not at all like a bolt of excitement had zipped through you at the sight of him.

He cocked a brow, his focus flicking over you before he turned to Moore. “Dr. Moore—”

“Busy.”

“—the British legion requires your services immediately.”

“I’m sure you believe your needs to be of great importance, Colonel, but—”

“The field medic I’ve currently retained is indisposed.”

“—as you can see, Charleston keeps me preoccupied as is.”

“You should be prepared to depart as early as this evening.”

Moore paused with a sigh, and turned to face Tavington. “Colonel, I make no assumptions regarding the frequency with which you hear this word, but no.”

Tavington’s eyes fluttered as if the doctor had clapped in front of his nose. “Perhaps you believed me to be making a request, doctor,” he replied. “I was not.”

You pinched your lips between your teeth. Moore had stopped his work on the soldier’s arm entirely. Silent, you caught Lottie’s attention from the corner of your sight, and found her face flush with anxious warmth.

“Colonel,” Moore said, with even more exasperation than the previous time, “I am the only physician in Charleston—perhaps all of South Carolina—at present. I cannot abdicate my duties here to ride with cavalry all night.” He stared at Tavington, who did not move or even shift his expression, like Moore was a fussing baby. “But I can—all right. Listen.” Moore looked at Lottie, then back to Tavington. “Miss Goddard here will be able to serve your needs adequately, and she has the added benefit of having no additional responsibilities aside.”

Lottie tensed, her gaze darting between Moore and Tavington. “M-me, doctor?” With a nervous smile, she said, “Of course, it would be my honor, but… would it be possible for my friend here to join me?”

“Your friend?” said you, the doctor, and Tavington at the same time.

“Please,” Lottie whispered, looking at you. She turned to Dr. Moore. “She’ll be a great help to me.”

Moore sighed and grabbed two splints, lining them up along the man’s forearm. You didn’t blame Lottie for wanting you there. But this would mean you wouldn’t return home. It would mean more time Grace would spend alone. You pinched the splints together, and the soldier whined, muffled by the bandages. As he twisted his head, blood trickled down his cheek, right in Lottie’s line of sight. She choked, turning to try and cough away her clear growing nausea.

“If you insist, Charlotte,” Dr. Moore mumbled as he started the bandaging process.

Tavington, who was watching with winnowing patience, looked at you. “Unfortunately,” he said, “your friend’s freedom does not extend beyond the borders of Charleston.”

You frowned. “But my intelligence was valid.”

“Yes,” he said, “but it did not produce the promised results.”

“A dispatch rider was found and detained, was he not?”

Tavington’s brows raised fractionally. “What was not found was a certain Captain Michael—“

“I am not my father’s keeper,” you growled, shifting more to face him. The soldier whined again and you shot a leer at him. “Shall I next beseech the pagan gods to divine his location, Colonel?”

Lottie glanced at you wide-eyed, alarmed at the tone you were using with a colonel of the British army. “She’s overworked from all of the injured we need to treat,” she offered. “She doesn’t mean that, Colonel Tavington.”

“She does,” he said, still focused on you. He stepped forward, voice lowering. “Divine? No. Reveal—given the insight you possess—yes.”

You snorted. Moore grabbed another roll of bandages and started using it to constrict the soldier’s arm. “If you are still unable to locate my father after everything I’ve told you, I hardly—”

The man groaned in agony, and you realized you’d started tightening your grip as you spoke. You relaxed, and he groaned louder.

Tavington sighed. “Do shut up, Private.”

Your face scrunched, almost amused. The man settled, and you took a breath. “I hardly believe that’s an issue with which I need concern myself.”

“I would say your investment in your father’s life concerns you a great deal,” he replied.

“Alas, but I cannot serve as your prophet, though you flatter me with the notion.” You shrugged. “All of those men under your command, and no success. Perhaps there’s a deficiency somewhere you need to address.”

Lottie hissed your name under her breath. “Please don’t make this harder on me.” Then, turning to Tavington, big brown eyes pleading, said, “I beg of you, Colonel. She’s simply tired. I’ll vouch for her myself!”

“Do you want to take them or not, Colonel?” Moore was tying off the second round of bindings. “If not, I’ll ask you to kindly and politely depart the ward so I can continue getting work done. You may have noticed this, but we’ve a couple dozen of your men here who need my assistance.”

Tavington’s tongue rolled in his mouth, and his eyes met yours. There you found the curiosity you’d spied while in his office, familiar glimmers of interest as he studied you. You swallowed, holding his gaze, wondering what exactly was going through his mind, wondering if he could see your speeding pulse. His head tilted, his chest fell in an exhale.

“And you… You wish to come.”

That really was the question. Your participation in this war had already dumped guilt onto your back as you unceremoniously condemned strangers to suffer and die. The thought of going along with Lottie brought a new deluge of emotions, some of which you worried would war fiercer than the soldiers in the field.

A terrible guilt for abandoning Grace. An even more terrible sadness that you wouldn’t know when you next would see her. And perhaps the most terrible excitement at the thought of waking daily and sleeping nightly within the domain of the most despicable bastard you’d ever met.

Despite it all, you knew that if you kept up the Loyalist facade, Grace would remain safe at home. Your father was the one in danger. And if you were out in the country with his primary—and deadliest—pursuer, you had the highest chance of protecting them both.

All you had to do was stay alive.

“I do, Colonel,” you replied.

“Both of you,” he said, with some amount of dread.

That wasn’t a question, but Lottie nodded anyway. “She’ll be an asset to you, Colonel. A great asset. I promise!”

“I somehow doubt that very much,” he mumbled. “Very well.” He turned to Dr. Moore, who still couldn’t be bothered to look at him while he wiped off the remaining blood from the soldier’s hands and face. “Send them along to the barracks at once. They’ll need to be briefed and supplied before we depart.”

Moore nodded. “Right away, Colonel,” he muttered.

Tavington’s eyes found yours a final time. Whether there was want or warning within them, you couldn’t discern. He turned on his heel and left the ward.

Your shoulders sagged, weight dropping to the ground that you hadn’t known you’d been carrying. Lottie provided you an expression you would’ve described as contrite if there wasn’t so much relief hidden behind it.

“Thank you so much,” she whispered. She rubbed the soldier’s back as he stood and swayed, his arm properly stiff at his side. “Off you go, sir. Get yourself a bed.” Turning back to you, she frowned. “I’m not sure if I can put my appreciation into words, really. I know how badly you wished to return home.”

“Thank you, Dr. Moore,” you said as he stood and moved to the next man. As expected, he did not reply. You shook your head and shrugged to Lottie. “It’s better for me to be doing what I can to serve His Majesty.” You hoped that didn’t sound as contrived as it felt leaving your mouth.

She pursed her lips, waiting for when Moore was out of earshot to whisper, “You have a funny way of showing it, the way you speak to Colonel Tavington!” The horror of your conduct had pinkened her cheeks. “Were you trying to get yourself hanged?”

You frowned. “Of course not.”

“Well, be more careful, then!” She huffed, crossing her arms. “I won’t always be around to rescue you.” She shook her head and brushed her hands down her dress like that would shoo the gore from her person. “Or perhaps he just favors you.”

Your next breath lodged in your throat, and you coughed. “I’m sorry—” You coughed again, straightening. “He what?”

She laughed, nudging you gently. “Oh, you are funny. Imagine, Colonel Tavington favoring anyone,” she said through giggles. “If you’d seen your face…”

“Right,” you said, bizarrely disappointed.

With a sigh, Lottie adjusted her sleeves. “I’ll tell Mrs. Smith that we need to be departing. Oh!” She gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth in delight. “This means that I’ll be in the field with Ben!” With a smile, she skittered over to the matron as she attended an ailing woman.

You tried to grin, but strained your cheeks, deciding to settle into the seat where the soldier had been instead. If you were to be departing with Tavington’s legion tonight, you needed to finish Grace’s letter. You pulled it from your pocket.

I do not wish to be alone. Major Ferguson is to depart with his men two days hence and I must admit that I dread his absence. Already once he has made a most welcome visit to certify my welfare. I told him I was indeed well, but that I should like very much to know the condition of my dear Sister. Though I with most indocile nature demanded his intelligence on the matter, he remained to me gentle and courteous. He wishes it was in his power to oblige me but it is not. He suggested however that should I wish to write you, that he may deliver you my Letter when next he is called to Charlestown. A gallant and charitable offer indeed!

Despite Papa’s endless grievances of the British army I believe he construes them all unkindly. Perhaps every one he encountered was akin to that murderous devil we so unfortunately met. In that case I should understand his misgivings.

A sense of irritation grew in your chest. You decided you didn’t particularly care if this man Ferguson was in fact Jesus Christ himself rose from the dead. The fact he was busy using your sister’s naivety to his advantage made you want to crucify him despite it.

Murderous devil, perhaps, but at least Tavington…

You paused. You couldn’t think of anything he’d done that wasn’t, in fact, worse.

But enough of wars and men. Never have you and I been apart so long, nor our home so reminiscent of a cavern. How clamorous the sound of my pen in this silence, dear Sister. Pray write me when this letter finds you. Until then I shall look each day to the South road and hope to see you return. Do not fret that I am well. Mrs. Jones has called upon me to come for supper and company, she insists, whenever I feel the pangs of solitude too keenly. For this I am grateful.

Ever, ever I remain

Faithfully and Lovingly Your Sister, Grace

P.S. I am sorry for the words herein whose inking is damaged. Mr. Mouser trod upon this Letter and entreats me now with uproarious meows to attend him.

You smiled as you finished the letter. But your heart wilted. You weren’t sure when you would be coming up the south road, or when you’d be able to unburden Grace of solitude. You knew only that you were making the choices you felt were right to keep her safe. Just as you’d always done.

Dr. Moore had left some parchment out on the table with the medical supplies. You grabbed a few pages of it along with his pen. The letter wouldn’t be long, but you could at least let her know that she did not need to worry. That you wouldn’t be returning home, but you would promise to find her, to see her soon.

You dipped the nib in the ink. You started writing.

[rinski]

SH2R Review

I don't usually do this, but we live in extraordinary times and I have Opinions.

So here is my review of the new Silent Hill 2 Remake. (tl;dr: when it's not bad it's... good? kinda?)

If you go into this game holding up the original and looking for all the ways the remake falls short, like that Bobvids reaction video, you will have no shortage of material to work with. The remake is inconsistent and I legitimately do not understand what they were attempting to achieve with some of the changes they made. This game is incredibly easy to make into something profoundly disappointing if that’s what you want to do. Like Bobvids points out, almost all of the most iconic or emotionally-powerful scenes from the original were fumbled. Not like “they tried to do something different and it didn’t quite work,” no no, no: They were fumbled. They dropped the ball and it shattered like glass upon impact. It's ironic: The game has what it calls "Glimpses of the Past," which are little shrines to iconic scenes and objects from the original game, with their own bespoke camera angle and a little jingle, but then they somehow manage to fail at preserving the scenes people care about most.

If you're reading this, we have both probably been passionate about this game and franchise for a huge chunk (if not the majority) of our lives on this dumb planet, and seeing someone botch something we’ve managed to hold precious for so long can be very painful to watch. 

But there’s also a lot to legitimately like about this game that using that lens will obfuscate. And I’m generally of the mind that we should try to scavenge for whatever joy we can find, wherever and whenever we can, because the world fucking sucks in general. And besides, it’s not like we haven’t had to endure other SH games over the years that ran the gamut from “aggressively mid” to “well at least it’s funny in a bad b-movie kinda way.” I think the best way to enjoy this game is to go in with the assumption that basically everything you care deeply about is going to be butchered in some way, so that you won't be hyper-focusing on those mistakes when the game actually manages to do something good. By all means jeer and throw popcorn at the screen whenever they mess something up—that's a lot of fun too!—but don't let the bad completely shadow the good, especially if it's only bumming you out.

To be clear: I'm not arguing that anyone should buy the game. Other people already have, and their playthroughs are free to watch.

The game is overly long, which leads to some pacing problems. They fill up some of the extra space with places and story beats that feel on point, but a lot of it is filler with only the faintest, somewhat-sour Silent Hill flavor. They do some interesting new things with the combat and enemy AI, but that also gets old quickly because combat is more mandatory, more frequent, and there's only like 3 different enemies in total.

The characters are all different enough that I think comparing them to the originals is just going to make everyone sad. I do not love most of the new takes on the characters. But I also do not hate most of them. At times, they’re even surprisingly good. 

I like the new James most of the time. He's different, sure, but he feels more like a pathetic worm man hiding behind a facade that he's only barely able to maintain. His voice cracks with exertion and desperation as he kicks downed enemies, and after he hears a spooky noise he asks a wavering, "hello?" There are times where his facial acting is incredibly well done and there are times where he basically doesn't react at all, like his "k bye" exit from Angela's final scene that's worse than if they'd just teleported you to the next room with no transition.

The first two Eddie encounters made me roll my eyes, because he feels like a caricature of the original. They made him look and act a lot grosser in the remake, like they imported the original into a character creator and pushed all the middle sliders to one extreme or another. But despite nothing about his design or initial characterization saying “this was made by someone who appreciates subtlety and nuance” he still managed to have some legitimately subtle and nuanced character moments that are their own thing, separate from the original version. When James asks him, "You're gonna go out there alone?" and he gives that slight smile and a distant, barely audible "yeh"? That's good shit.

I think my hottest take is that the new Angela is Good, Actually. I love the original Angela. I think she was perfect. This is not her. Trying to draw any comparisons between the two is a shortcut to feeling depressed and disappointed. There are several interactions with her that actually hewed too close to the original version, which didn’t work *specifically* due to these changes. And her finale is nowhere near as good. Despite all that, I like the new take. She stands on her own as a different (but obviously similar) character. I like her new VA, I like her new scenes, and the new Abstract Daddy boss fight is, I think, the absolute highest point the remake manages to hit. 

Maria is the one character where I legitimately don’t understand what they were going for. Even putting the original aside and letting the new Maria be her own thing… what… *is* that thing, exactly? To start, she’s barely in the game at all—she's absent during many of the scenes she was present for in the original. When she does interact with James, she’s so inconsistent that I can’t get a sense of what they intended her character to be. Hot, cold, charming, socially awkward—in any case it definitely doesn’t seem like they intended her to be “the Mary James fantasized about,” so then… what *is* she? James and new Maria’s overall vibe is “people who only barely tolerate each other because they have a shared friend group." In fact, one of the better interactions between Maria and James is the lead ring scene, where instead of being flirtatious, James dejectedly accepts the ring with a flat, “Oh… thanks...” like she just spat in his hand. So ok fine, they don't like each other this time around. But in the finale she still claims to be able to provide James with everything Mary couldn't, which... no? I don't get what she's attempting to provide, but whatever it is, James certainly doesn't seem into it.

Overall, the environments and music were amazing and on-point, but there were also times where neither was true. The non-otherworld hospital in particular struck me as generic to the point where I’d believe it was made from asset store prefabs. And the newer version of Promise (Reprise) that plays after the video tape is… weirdly up-tempo? Like, to the point where it undermines the tone of the scene (don't worry, it wasn't great anyway). 

Look: being a SH fan has been tough for *multiple decades* now. And I have no love for Bloober Team. They most certainly did not stick the landing here, and even if they did, I would be reluctant to give them credit for it.

I understand feeling passionate about the original. *I* feel passionate about the original. I understand how someone could experience this remake while hating every second of it. I believe I understand how Bobvids feels too, because he’s objectively correct: The remake does not treat any of your most precious memories with care.

And that’s why I wanted to write this. Because it’s very easy to view this game through a lens where it sucks shit, is disappointing, ruins your enjoyment of the original, and spells doom for the future. This game provides a scenic vista full of eye-catching trash fires where all the famous landmarks should be. But if you choose to look elsewhere, away from all the hot garbage, there’s a lot to see that’s perfectly fine or even beautiful. And it makes me sad to imagine all that going ignored because the trash fires burn too brightly.

And also: trash fires can be fun too, right? When they're not bumming you out, at least. Given the choice between "mid" and "trash fire," I'd choose the latter every time.

Silent Hill 2 came out in 2001. Since then we’ve had SH3 in 2003, SH4 in 2004, Origins in 2007, Homecoming in 2008, Shattered Memories in 2009, Downpour in 2012, PT in 2014, and, most recently, Short Message and Ascension. 

We have been scrounging for food and sustaining ourselves on dumpster crumbs for a very, very long time. So let’s not throw away this opportunity to eat a bite or two just because the chef is a piece of shit and the food is partially spoiled: A lot of what’s on offer is perfectly edible. It’s not the best food, no, but we're already used to picking through garbage for a few savory morsels. And within that context, SH2R is a smorgasbord for anyone willing to eat around the moldy bits. 

I recommend we eat what we can, while we can, because we're not likely to get a better meal any time soon.

[exy-conspiracies]

over-analysing anon from before here!! I saw some of the responses (Andrew Minyard REBLOGGED GUYS) and I don’t think I phrased my other ask correctly (probably because I was high on coffee that day and was sleep-deprived) but I’ve been making note of the previous Exy games.

Disclaimer that everything I say is alleged and I don’t have concrete evidence to back up all my claims so take my conspiracy with a grain of salt. Thank you.

First off, I’m aware Coach Wymack wouldn’t allow Andrew to play off his medication because of all the legal bindings and stuff but honestly? I still like to think it’s a possibility—although slim—that he might have.

I mean. When you compare the previous games from the newest ones don’t you see a stark difference in the way Andrew plays? Before after a few hours in the games he’d look VERY tired and fatigued (more so then the other players who had been RUNNING) and then would be benched for the rest of the game. I assume it could be withdrawal but I honestly don’t have enough evidence to make a solid proposition. Remember the game against Balmonte (if I’m not mistaken. I am still so sleep deprived so apologies if I forget team names) after Seth’s death (RIP) Andrew had to stay in as goal keeper throughout the whole game?

Now compare that game to his latest ones. See any differences? There are many. First of all, he’s more perceptive and hyper-focused in his newest games (various reasons why) but he can hold his own against a team for the entire game without acting as fatigued or tired as he previously was. You could argue that it was due to the fact that he hardly tried during other games and thus he never had the endurance before but I don’t think that’s completely true — there’s no way that even after a small match (be it them losing or winning) why he always always got tired by half-time. Every. Time.

Argue all you want but the fatigue he showcased in those previous games were not normal symptoms. No way. I could never get a good look at his face (thanks Exy helmets) but something was definitely off after my fifth rewatch. Especially when you watch the matches side by side (and I did) so honestly? I think he WAS off his meds before his rehab. Not all the time of course since there’s still a very legal contract binding him to them but he was off them during games (allegedly).

And even if I’m wrong? Even if I’m just too sleep-deprived for my own good and I should go take a walk? I don’t care. This was a fun little thing I realised after I decided I wanted to finally understand what the hype over Exy was about and hey, my university has an Exy team so why not watch their games? It was a fun experience but I honestly need some sleep so good night y’all.

.

[creatchie8]

Because I keep seeing others post, I really wanna talk about seeing Lewis and Atta Boy in Chicago <3 Also so I can look back and reread and relive how exciting it was lol

First of all, I wanna explain how DEDICATED I was to see this man. I live in a tiny town in Idaho where the local airport takes two flights per day and both of them are directly to and from SLC. So I drove 3 1/2 hours to the biggest airport in Idaho. Then, I hopped on a 1 1/2 hour flight to Seattle where I had a two hour layover then on a 4 1/2 hour flight to Chicago.

I got a bloody nose on the plane to Chicago (then on the way back I got 2 more) :) So much fun.

We waited in a super short line outside for a while and I was hyper analyzing every person who walked past us in hopes it would be a member. The one time I had my head turned a woman walked past me and I was just watching her leave when she turned her head and it was EDEN! I could have died right then, she was gorgeous, seriously the prettiest woman I have seen.

About 10-15 minutes later I saw her walking towards the line (very preoccupied, she was listening to a voice note on her phone) and finally past all the waiting people and into the venue. (Side note, she had her vape in hand and was taking a hit of it as she walked past me-when I texted my friend she was saying how lucky I was to stand in Eden's vape cloud and it made me lol so hard).

When they finally let us into the venue me and my guy beelined it to the stage. I swear some higher power was on our side that day because we got the best spot right to where the drum set was in perfect view.

Me Like Bees was great, I was dancing around to their music and I have plans to add them to my Spotify playlist, their energy was crazy!

The lights went on again as they were taking the MLB stuff down and putting the AB stuff up, Freddy and Dashel were up there helping when this mysterious man brushed up against my guy and walked up the steps to the stage. My guy whispered in my ear, "I think that's Lewis." And all I could do was nod silently.

It felt like I touched a live wire or something, my whole body was buzzing like crazy as we watched him set up his drum set. I think in another life that man was an electrician or something because he was decked out in all Carhart lmao.

Eden sung beautifully, nothing would have ever prepared me for how good she sounded. Like imagine the recorded version but just 1 Million times better. I sung my heart out on Crab Park (best song imo) and teared up when she sang Madly.

I'm going to skip some of these next few parts because it was literally just me watching Lewis go around to the people waiting to talk to him and me admiring how incredibly handsome this guy is (no picture does him justice).

Lewis shook me and my guy's hand and we all introduced each other, all of a sudden my worry went away and talking to Lewis felt like talking to a friend. I told him how my mom loves him in Lessons in Chemistry (which I explained is crazy because she has two comfort shows she likes and she hates new things but seriously is in love with LinC and begs to watch it with me whenever I visit). Lewis thought that was absolutely hilarious and was happy my mom likes it so much.

I then told him that I adore The Starling Girl because his performance was so real and raw and there was absolutely no fluff. I then said something super cheesy like, "Your performance was phenomenal." Lewis told me that he was grateful I loved it so much because he loved working on it. So that made me smile and blush like crazy.

He asked where we were from and I told him about the crazy journey we endured and he seemed legit stunned that someone would travel that far to see him and his band.

We then took a few pics and I was too dumb to remember to give him something to sign so I pulled out a $5 bill and he signed the backside of it. I then asked if I could hug him and he laughed, saying yes if I don't mind that he's all sweaty. Best hug of my life btw.

We then said our farewells and I then proceeded to get so freaked out we left the venue entirely. Looking back now I would have stayed longer and got pics with Eden and some merch so I actually feel really upset about that. And in January of 2023 I got a bull skull tattoo mimicking Rhett's on my calf that I was dying to show Lewis but I forgot. But I am looking forward to the next time I get to see him!!!

[tixdixl]

For all four of yours?

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

OH THIS IS VERY FUN. Thank you!

Just a heads up warning, this response is going to be incredibly long. So I apologize in advance 😅

Oisín: this is a very interesting question to ask of my dullahan. It's a combination of being comfortable in their own skin while existing in a world that is fundamentally critical or even frightened of them. Humans think of dullahan as monsters. Humans think of dullahan as crewel, as inhumane, as evil. But they... aren't. Their sense of morality when it comes to their role is fundamentally different than humans.

This is what has led them to hiding their headlessness. They start with the TV monitor in public and then move to finding a way to actually wear their own head just to blend in with the general public. But when they are in private, in the safety of those who they love and trust, the TV Monitor or their head comes off. They allow themself to be truly themself, and they stop masking.

Kingsley: OH I FINALLY GET TO TALK ABOUT MY BOY AND WHAT'S BEHIND THE MASK.

So Kingsley is constantly told he is a failure by his parents. This starts as early as ~8-10 years old when his father conducts the first "test" that is done on children in their culture. Because they live in a society where experience is considered a better teacher than mentorship, his father essentially pulls a FMA where he drops Kingsley off in the woods as a boy and tells him to figure out a way to survive for 3 days. If he is able to survive the wilderness, then he will be brought back home. During these 3 days, Kingsley gets into a really nasty fight with a mama bear, and while he does survive it, he walks away with some pretty nasty wounds. He almost loses his eye because of it. When his father returns to pick him up, Kingsley gets really excited. Because in their culture, scars from war are seen as evidence of survival. They are celebrated, because it shows the world that you were strong enough to endure whatever it is you faced. But... instead of being proud of Kingsley for surviving, he is scolded for being unwise. He is scolded for walking away with injuries- injuries that hadnt been properly cared for either. This shame is what inevitably leads him to wearing his skull mask, the casual one and not the formal one.

And this is just one anecdote of a lifetime of double standards, of impossible goals, of constantly never being good enough for his parents. And this in particular is compounded by the expectations placed on him as he goes to NRC. There is nothing that will damage a person more than being told you aren't allowed to go home until you are worthy of being called an heir, and ready to be coronated into lordship. You can imagine the weight of that expectation driving him to immense self-criticism and hyper vigilence in virtually everything he does

At its core, this is the treatment he faces that molds him into the intimidating, harsh (borderline cruel), hyper vigilent, self-critical, supremely isolated, and violently aggressive boy we see entering Freshman Year. And even as he continues to develop his friendships, and especially as we move into the Isle of Cantrevs event, where the crew have to essentially pick up his parent's mess, that weight of having to prove to his parents that he's not a failure is constantly lurking in his shadow.

I think you would even recognize this fear in his own friendships, especially in the RP we are working on with Kingsley and Cooper. And while its not exactly something I've discussed entirely with @ramshacklerumble , I know for a fact this impacts his relationship with Gia, even into them becoming QPPs. But I can confirm that Gia is the first person to point out to Kingsley that he's holding himself to double standards and is incredibly harsh on himself. He's working on it... sorta... 😅

Emil: This is interesting because it's something I've only recently started to dive into. And there are a few directions we can take this.

This is your pre-emptive CW that Im going to briefly discuss trans things, particularly body dysphoria and the desire to change your physical body to feel at home in your own skin. There is also a brief reference to transphobia in here. You've been warned.

For starters, being trans, Emil does experience a lot of body dysphoria. He binds, eventually gets top surgery, and he also seeks out ways to mitigate having a cycle until such time as he decides to have them permanently stopped. He always gets nervous at the prospect of going home because as much as he loves his parents, they don't see him as Emil - at least not until way after he graduates from NRC and leaves home permanently.

His voice is something he often grapples with because despite loving his own voice, he often gets misgendered as a result of it. It's something he struggles with and doesnt have a solution for.

We can also examine this from the perspective of him being a little ray of sunshine and optimistic while being at NRC. He knows that many people outside his friend circle view him as weak. They view him as an outsider. Many even claim he doesn't belong there. This is exacerbated when the Arcane Exchange happens and people start having class with RSA students. But he does belong at NRC. He very much belongs there, and anyone who has actually spent any time with him can see that.

Beyond that, we can look at how he views himself after he Overblots. He thinks his sibling's death was his own fault. He views himself as a failure for not succeeding in his goals. And furthermore, he feels as though he has lost his sense of purpose because he put everything into trying to find a cure for his sibling, only for them to die before he could do anything about it. So then... what's the point? What was the point in any of it? What was the point in going to NRC if he couldn't succeed? What was the point in all of that hard work?

He is slowly but surely grappling with this and overcoming it, but it takes an incredibly long time for him to regain a sense of self and a sense of purpose back. He does eventually realize he is able to use those skills for good - and to the point of "not belonging", that its okay if his strengths dont lie in doing offense. But this is something he has yet to work through.

René: There are three particular directions that I can take this in particular.

I havent explored it much, and truthfully, I should, but René is some sort of nonbinary where genderfuckery and genderfluidity are at play. I have no doubt in my mind this has a major impact on them, being amab, but again, I havent explored it as much as I probably should.

Does their UM count? It's not something they are proud of. They hate the fact that they have it, even though it has been proven useful and it continues to be useful. It doesnt make them feel good that the magic that has come from their experience and from their soul is a magic that breaks mind control, suggestion, or hypnosis. They don't like the fact that their magic is one that forcibly breaks contracts and agreements without repurcussion. Not because its not useful, again, but rather because of what it implies about themself and their existence. I haven't actually sorted out whether or not René comes to terms with this, especially since their UM failing against their father is something that triggers them into Overblot.

Also they don't believe people will actually like them for who they are if they showcase their true thoughts, opinions, and emotions. They have been trained to only be and present a false version of themself that is acceptable to their father and to other people. And it ends up leading them to believe that their real sense of self has no value. Plus its their real sense of self that ends up hurting Rémi in their childhood. And they really loathe themself for hurting Rémi the way they did. These are things I'm still exploring with René and havent fleshed out, but we are getting there.

Thanks again for the ask and if you got all the way this far- thanks for reading!

Prompt List

Tag list: @cyanide-latte @simons-twsted-children @inmateofthemind @ramshacklerumble

@rainesol @elenauaurs (lmk if you want to be added)

[thestrangestthing89]

Continuing from my post about Eddie being a manifestation of Will... Billy is another character I think Will manifested. Again, I think the characters that Will created are ones that have a similar backstory to him. So in this case: - Billy has an abusive father who calls him gay slurs, - He is from California (a place Will moves to in S4), - In the beginning of S3 we see a similar thing happen to Billy as what happened to Will in S1 - Billy is being chased in the dark by something, he runs to a phone to call 911, the lights flicker and he ends up flashing into the UD. Billy goes through a similar experience Will does - gets used and possessed by the MF (or the inversion of the MF that is in S3) and hurts the people around him unintentionally. - In El's void in S3, we see that Billy's mother abandoned him with his abusive father and that him and his mother were close at one point. There have been hints from Jonathan that Joyce checked out emotionally and didn't deal with Lonnie very well. We know that Jonathan is resentful about this and how he had to pick up the slack. But maybe there is a part of Will that also blames Joyce for the abuse he endured. It is pretty common for kids who have been abused to blame the other parent for not protecting them however unfair that may be. We do see Joyce since S1 doing everything she can to protect Will but there is some indication that this wasn't always the case and that she doesn't know the full story of what her boys went through. - They share a name, but Billy's personality is a 180 from Will. We see when he was a child that he was a sensitive kid who was close to his mother and he was happy. But then he goes through a lot of trauma and abuse and ends up being an abuser himself. Will on the other hand, is still a sensitive, kind kid in spite of the bad things that have happened to him. This reminds me of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Dr. Jekyll separates out all the evil impulses he has into a different person he creates (Mr. Hyde) so that he doesn't have to bear the burden of those impulses. He wants to achieve moral perfection and learns this is not possible. It fits in with the Freudian themes of the show nicely. Jekyll is ashamed and embarrassed about the things that Hyde does. There are homosexual undertones to this story - because Jekyll doesn't want to talk about the crimes Hyde has committed (at a time when homosexuality was illegal) combined with the fact that there aren't many female characters in the story implies that Hyde was gay and was representing Jekyll's repressed feelings. I think this plays into the reason Billy, Eddie, and El are created. Will is taking out all of the parts of himself he is ashamed of and "fixing" himself. Billy represents hyper-masculinity. He dates and has sex with a lot of girls. Will is making himself be what he thinks men are supposed to be like - dating around, being aggressive and dominating. The id. Eddie is the nerdy part of him and is created the season after Will gets made fun of by his friends for being nerdy. He is ashamed of himself for not growing up like them and Eddie becomes the cooler older kid who likes the same nerdy things Will does. Eddie is a freak but in a cool way. The ego. El is the more feminine side of Will. Will is called a sensitive kid several times and boys (especially in the 80s) would have been shamed for this. She does all the things that Will can't do because he's a boy - date Mike, be emotional (more on this in a different post). She is the hyper-vigilant protector. The superego.

Billy also says something interesting to Max when they are first introduced in S2 - "We are stuck here" in reference to why they are in Hawkins. Which is a story we never got completely. I know there is backstory in the books, but there is no indication this is canon. Being stuck is a big theme on the show and Will himself uses this to describe how he is feeling in S2 during the crazy together scene. In Billy (and Max's) case, the context seems like it's different since they don't explain it when they easily could during this conversation. It's kept a secret so I think it's important. I think Billy is stuck as long as Will is. But Will starts to deal with his trauma in S3 and starts projecting all of his problems onto the characters he's created (Billy and El). In Billy's case, Will no longer needs him so he ends up sacrificing himself to save everyone. Eddie does the same thing the next season. The each served their purpose. I think it's a sign of growth and healing that Will kills them off. He doesn't need to rely on them anymore and is getting stronger on his own. When he starts owning his nerdy side and makes peace with Mike (and Mike responds positively to the D&D themed painting), he no longer needs the external person to put that trait on. And I've said this before, but I don't think S3 is entirely real. Most of it seems like it's happening in Will's head. So Billy being the one who gets possessed and hurt instead of Will also falls in line with healing -the strong, macho guy isn't invincible. Will isn't weak for what happened to him. I think this was his way of coping - imagining a scenario where the bad things happened to someone else and realizing it's not his fault this happened because it could have happened to anyone. Once these characters die they "merge" back into Will. We know Will will be dealing with his abuse head on and that D&D and the party are a focus of the season. I think it's because Will is allowing these things to happen now. He was resisting them or ashamed of them before but isn't anymore. Which is also why I don't think this bodes well for El. But more on that in another post. (also the characters in relation to the created ones are interesting - Max, El's mother, Eddie's uncle - I will probably add more on that later too). Other things to note: - The "We're stuck here" line Billy says to Max in reference to being stuck in Hawkins and hating it there. Billy asks Max who's fault it is that they are stuck there and Max says it's his and he gets angry and tries to run over Mike, Lucas, and Dustin (Will is absent from this scene). Billy and Will don't directly interact in the same way Eddie doesn't interact with Will. El is the exception to this, but their interactions are very odd. They have limited screen time and a pretty superficial relationship.

- Steve tells Billy he talks too much and shortly after Will is struggling to explain himself with words so he uses art. He has all these memories that aren't his and is struggling to explain it. Billy acts like the inversion of Will. Billy is verbal where Will is emotional.

[grocerystorephobic]

2, 3, 10, 11

2. Did you reread anything? What?

Not really! I've been itching to reread The Poe Clan and Rose of Versailles, both of which I read super fast via library copies, and now that I have my own I want to give them the space they deserve. That will be a task for 2025, I suppose!

Not technically a reread (and not technically a book, but neither are the previous answers) but I did read the full, original Ms.Scribe account when previously I'd only heard it summarized by secondary sources. That was fun!

3. What were your top five books of the year?

Honestly? This was kind of a bleh year for me. There were no big standout favorites. Here's what I got, though.

(These rankings are mostly arbitrary. There is no world where William Marston is a better writer than Harriet Jacobs)

Affinity by Sarah Waters

I have a particular brain problem where if a book is too similar to things I write/want to write I enter hyper-critical mode and I cannot enjoy it. Sarah Waters writes dark gothic Victorian lesbian romances, but she's so fucking good it bypasses my hater impulse. She is on a level I cannot even comprehend. Gorgeous prose, complex and nuanced characters, it's a well-plotted and riveting mystery. I have some qualms with the ending, but they're the sort of qualms only an invested reader can have.

2. Wonder Woman: The Golden Age Vol. 1

I feel like I will never shut up about this. I had some many thoughts I even wrote a review already! I will link it here.

3. Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs

A "real" account of a woman and her life and escape from slavery in the pre-Civil War American south. It was written explicitly as Abolitionist propaganda, and while some moments it is very sickly sentimental to a modern perspective (and the veracity of the specifics can be questionable), it's overall an extremely harrowing book. I listened to the entire second half in a single night because I was so enraptured by the story. I did not want to leave until our narrator was free. Jacobs does not mince her words when it comes to the horrors she endured, and lets loose intense Christian fury at the supposedly devout who could commit such horrors.

4. Princess Knight by Osamu Tezuka

I finally got around to reading some Tezuka this year! I knew how heavy the Disney influence was, in theory, but I was really blown away. It's weirdly coherent to read purely from the average media diet of the American child. Princess Knight is a story about a child who, due to a fuck up by a rowdy angel, is born with both a "girl's" heart and a "boy's" heart. She has to navigate a world that is constantly trying to put her into a box: scheming relatives who want her to become a girl so that she cannot inherit the thrown vs. an evil witch who wants her to become a boy so she can give the "girl" heart to her tomboy daughter.

I really loved this dichotomy, but sadly the story did not stick the landing. Sapphire loses her boy heart and becomes a girl in the last third-- and it's barely remarked upon. The final conflict is some forced amnesia plot brought on by a last minute ass-pull antagonist, and it completely loses the theme in the shuffle.

But again-- I guess these are the criticisms of an invested reader. I can't wait to read more Tezuka, I was way more into it than I anticipated.

5. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

It was a charming, comfy read. Genuinely funny. I laughed outloud multiple times when reading. There's not much to say about this that hasn't already been said. Despite expectations, I really like Jane Austen.

10. What was your favorite new release of the year?

What, they're still making new books? I coulda sworn they quit at some point in the 20th century....

In all seriousness. The only thing released in 2024 that I read in 2024 was Party Hard. And it was really fucked up (positive). So I guess it wins by default!

11. What was your favorite book that has been out for a while, but you just now read?

Discounting the previous answers for variety's sake, I will say that I also enjoyed the Bedford Cultural Edition of The Yellow Wallpaper I picked up from a free book shelf years ago. I also wrote a review back when I read it.

[trellia]

I think this post is a long time coming. But also, maybe 1 - someone has pointers to help and 2 - maybe someone else is struggling similarly and would like to know said pointers too.

I have been quite the recluse the past few months. From everyone, really. Why that is why I’m making this post. If you feel like I’ve been drawing away, you’re not wrong. I have. I’ve not been doing too good since… I’d say October. A lot of events have turned my world around for one, realizing what I am living in and not what I thought I was living in. That was something on its own…. At the same time, I was going through the steps to figure out if I have ADHD. I found out a couple months ago that yes, indeed, I do have ADHD.

The diagnosis was first a relief: finally, I now know there’s nothing wrong with me, I’m just wired different. However, relief soon turned into contempt. I became very, very angry. I am very angry. I just reached my 40’s. For at least 35+ years, I’ve been degraded and hurt by the people who should have protected me, understood me, especially in my childhood. Teachers, principals and parents of other children took part in this bullying campaign their children had going, only because I wasn’t following the ‘norms’. I endured trauma so great that I can barely function today.

I mean, I look at the videos of my childhood and I see it immediately: I’m not like the other kids. I’m more hyper, excited, and I just want everyone to take part in the fun, but I’m too much for it. It’s right there. I was called names by adults, and scolded for not doing things the way neurotypical people would. I was called lazy. I was told I don’t care for anyone but myself when, in fact, I have always put everyone ahead of me because I would rather see them happy than be happy myself. So you can imagine how difficult it was to hear that I am selfish and don’t care for anyone else…

I’m also angry at the current people in my life. Some of which have told me to ‘fix’ myself because I was an inconvenience they didn’t want to deal with. So I tried EVERY way to do so, and of course that didn’t work because I was trying to put bandaids on symptoms rather than help with what was the actual problem, but then when I asked for help, I was shunned away like I didn’t deserve it. I lost an entire decade (my late 20’s and my 30’s) asking myself what the hell is wrong with me, why am I such a terrible person, and why can’t I do anything right, and spending my 30’s walking on eggshells everywhere AND in the rpc because I was connection deprived and needed everyone to love me, which led to nefarious people taking advantage and hurt me further. (that’s a post for another day.)

Now here’s the main problem: I’m so angry I want to hurt someone. Not physically, but in every other way. It doesn’t matter who you are, I just want to lash out, whoever you are, friend or otherwise. An example: a friend made a new original character that is actually perfectly fine and pretty good, it’s a great OC! — but inside all I want to do is destroy that break their love for the OC and ruin it for them. Just… because. And that’s NOT okay. The good news is that I see it, I realize it. Which is why I have isolated myself. None of my friends deserve this. But I am angry. I am enraged, because I feel I’ve lost most of my life ‘fixing’ myself until I masked so hard I didn’t even realize until it slipped at 28. I know exactly when it slipped too.

Also, considering the kind of world we live in, I feel like I’ve lived past the mid-mark of my life. I’m not sure I’ll live up to 50 at this point. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair at all that I had to go through all this and still suffer. So yes, I’m very angry. But I also don’t WANT to hurt anyone. Especially not the people I care for… This is why I have not been on disco.rd. I have removed FB (because I wanted to for a long time tho lol ), tiktok… And have mostly removed myself from public spaces.

If you have pointers or ideas on how to get past that anger, please, please share. I don’t really know what to do with it. I don’t know how to tame it. And it scares me tbh. I don’t want to be like this. This isn’t me… but it’s so hard not to be angry…

So… yah: if I don’t respond on disco or otherwise, or not right away, it’s not you, I’m the one stepping away so I won’t say something I really don’t mean just for the sake of harming someone because I can’t accept what has been done to me.

If you read this far, thank you. Otherwise, here’s the jinx of it:

tldr; I was officially diagnosed with ADHD and realized I’ve been treated terribly by my peers because of it and shunned away when I asked for help, so now I’m extremely angry at everything and want to hurt someone (anyone) though I don’t really want to. How do I get over this?

[ddarker-dreams]

More sr!reader content pls 🙏🏽 I’ll take anything

OO what a fun ask... i can give some SR reader thoughts that i don't know where to put anywhere else >:)c

this girl lives paycheck to paycheck. due to the debt looming over her head, she’s hyper aware of how much she spends, and consequently, she’s picked up some unique habits. she knows what day of the week certain foods are on sale and has what she refers to as ‘an underground network’. this supposed underground network is actually just a few nice older ladies who grow veggies as a hobby and share the fresh produce with her. she can’t remember the last time she had to buy a tomato. budgeting queen.

her dynamic with her stand, scarlet ribbons, is like those first few episodes of pokémon where pikachu doesn’t want to get in the poké ball. scarlet ribbons just kinda… hangs out. hovers around whatever vicinity SR reader is occupying. bruno once likened their relationship to that of sisters, although he can’t decide which acts as the older or younger sibling between the two. scarlet ribbons enjoys doting on her user and arranging her hair in a variety of cute styles. they vibe together. fugo didn’t know what to make of it at first. he’s having this intense inner dilemma over the unsightly nature of his stand, not wanting to call on it unless absolutely necessary. meanwhile, SR reader is cooking with scarlet ribbons and they’re acting as if it’s the most normal thing ever. a true symbiotic relationship.

a facet of scarlet ribbons’ potential that isn’t discovered until much later is her ability to create clothes. the clothes can only be made in warm color tones, however. the stand was simply delighted at this revelation and frequently uses SR reader as a model for elaborate outfits. the only down side is that she enjoys it a little too much. SR reader has to plead her case that she doesn’t need to be dressed up as sailor venus to go run some errands.

SR reader is the most flexible member of the bucci gang. she also has the best overall stamina. she might not be able to beat the boys in an arm wrestling match but she has the best endurance and can keep jogging along while the others are wheezing for air. ballet legs are crazy.

makes special cards for everyone's birthday, every year, without fail. abbacchio always acts like it's corny but he secretly frames the cute creation. SR reader writes the main contents and scarlet ribbons adds the doodles. bruno and fugo keep the cards they have received in their wallet.

more 'misc' type details:

her personal motto is "well, it could be worse."

if she hadn't pursued ballet before joining passione, she would've been an elementary school teacher.

it is extremely obvious when she doesn't like someone. she's bad at hiding it.

out of everyone in the bucci gang, she has seen the most movies.

in giorno's route, she meets jotaro at some point. SR reader reminds jotaro of his mom, holly.

if pucci had the opportunity to meet SR reader, he'd be surprised that one of dio's sons fell for someone like her. he'd wonder what dio would think of giorno's choice.

[inchidentally]

@watehry asked for me to a carlando zodiac analysis like my landoscar one <3 (reminder I am not Lando levels of expert at astrology so this is me taking from a bunch of sources)

this one got kind of weird for me though bc the astrology is crazy black and white simple and gave maybe a little too much insight for comfort?? anyway proceed if you still want but also skip past if the parasocial stuff is too weird (it rly kind of was for me in places)

Scorpio and Virgo are a slam dunk as a match in friendship. simple as. Scorpio is ambitious with highly changeable super-charged moods and pretty damn needy. Virgo is all about "optimization" of themselves but extremely forgiving towards other and so self-reliant that it's easy for others to rely on them (sometimes more than they should).

this worked out perfectly for them bc Lando has had so many different needs throughout his career: an extremely young rookie needing a strong leader, a struggling teammate who needed someone to provide all the fun and reassurance, then no longer a teammate who needs a friendship that fits around his crazy schedule and existing friends, and a competitor who would honestly be a lil devastated if Carlos didn't still try and look out for him on the track. Carlos has been able to cater to all of those different things without ever losing himself. he finds Lando fascinating and fun no matter what.

honestly with Scorpio being a Fire sign and Virgo being an Earth sign there doesn't need to be much digging beyond that. their equal passions balance out beautifully and has strong enduring power.

Scorpio's birthstone is Topaz and gemstone is Citrine. Virgo's are Blue Sapphire and Topaz respectively.

a lot of the usual Virgo traits don't uhhh rly apply to Carlos as a beautiful cis man born of extraordinary privilege who has a rarefied hyper masculine sport as his job (he is never 'in his own head' and never over-intellectualizes lmao) he wants? he gets.

Carlos is a solid extrovert with a seemingly undrainable social battery which also counteracts more stereotypical Virgo qualities. but he is also an extremely hard worker who shows intense focus and mastery over whatever he pursues. very very Virgo.

he's also endlessly curious which makes him a great people person as well as a student of his sport and nothing is more attractive to him than someone who is fully open and vulnerable. he would have absolutely no idea what to do with an Oscar for example. they'd both be very happy and respectful in each other's company but only if someone else provides a common topic. otherwise it would be radio silence.

but little rookie Lando Norris who has been starved of the superstar attention he had in his junior career while he toddled around after Fernando? he and Carlos fit together like chicken and breading.

"Virgo wants order while Scorpio wants power" says a whole lot about how compatible they are. they want the same things but in completely different ways. it's why Carlos can factor in helping Lando get a podium and Lando has no problem admitting that Carlos helped him get there.

pitfalls of their relationship are down to the fact that they are so complimentary yet both are strong-willed. Virgo thinks far more logically and doesn't want to compromise by factoring in Scorpio's ever-shifting ambitions and emotions. it's honestly a very good thing that they've chosen friendship/bromance over anything else. they can keep that sweet aspect of romance but without having to suffer the restrictions and complications of a romantic relationship.

and um it might also explain why Carlos was the one to push Lando into finally having a girlfriend. from what I vaguely know Carlos himself had a longtermish gf ? for his McLaren years ?? and he'll have found it easier to deal with Lando's neediness with a gf for Lando to focus on.

not to get too parasocial about real life stuff here but we can all kind of agree that Max F's girlfriends have to accept that his friendship with Lando comes first. or at least equal to them. that's because once Leos find someone happy under their control and protection it's an absolute lock for life. Scorpio Lando wants attention and reassurance, Leo Max wants to be the leader and the rock. Scorpio needs to be in their feelings at will and Leo loves living in the moment. they sort of already found their person in each other oops. but since cis straight people relationships already center around ferda culture it works just fine.

by contrast, Carlos as a Virgo would have his own strict ideas of what his relationships should look like and I'm gonna take a wild guess that his family have inscribed ideals of wives and babies and being a provider into his DNA. when Carlos gets married it's going to have to be Lando who works around the schedule and makes good friends with Carlos' wife. fortunately he seems to be able to do that just fine with Max's partners so I don't see any issue there. (this is what I mean when I said this got very weirdly intuitive about real people)

as long as the Scorpio/Virgo friendship is free and easy for each party to come and go as they need to, they'll literally be bonded as family til they die. I can't read Lando's actual feelings well enough bc he uses so much deflective sarcasm but Carlos and his family absolutely adopted him as one of their own. Lando might take a little bit more of Carlos' generosity than he gives back but that's just their way. I'd say Max F is the bff who will always be there and Carlos is the bff that Lando can meet after months apart and it'll be as if it was just yesterday.

as Lando said they're much better off not being on the same team because they were juuuust on the cusp of the teammate rivalry not being fun anymore. I miss the challenges together but we'll always get carlando content anyway and won't have to see their relationship erode, fail and then heal but never be quite the same again (sorry but like w Daniel). it's also why the landoscar astrology reinforced everything we feel about Oscar being tailor made for Lando as a teammate.

ship/fic-centric stuff

let's get the rough stuff out of the way first: long term romance between Scorpio and Virgo is… tricky. especially both of them being men. I'll go ahead and say that they're much better off having a steamy hot affair for a while but then letting it settle into platonic but extremely deep friendship. you could easily have Lando's main love interest having to accept that Carlos has the same role w Lando that Lando does w Max F.

that being said! the sex is fire. Virgo Carlos would be a confirmed masc top (literally wants to do "power play") bc a feeling of control is so fundamental for him. Scorpio Lando would be raw arousal and want someone he could fully trust. he'd be over the moon to do anything and get as kinky as Virgo wanted.

Carlos would want to shower Lando with gifts and big expressions of love and adoration. while Lando would eat all of that up he wouldn't see it as the same as spending quality time together and sharing the same bed etc. definitely would need to be a chapter dedicated to communicating of needs etc.

Carlos would break very quickly in a secret relationship. it would sap him of everything he wants to bring and receive in a relationship. Lando wouldn't last much longer because his partner denying him romantic love in public would eat away at him. it would either end them or be a catalyst for deciding to be open and damn the consequences.

carlando angst is a whole other level because of how much they both want to remain bonded together. but there's also plenty of juicy fodder: miscommunication (Carlos' fault) jealousy (Lando's) possessiveness (Lando's) a need to be in charge (Carlos) lying for the other's protection (Carlos) wanting more freedom (Lando) caving to societal/familial pressure (Carlos) cheating born of passion or dissatisfaction (Lando) silent treatment (Lando) dismissal of feelings (Carlos) angry words that they wish they could unsay (both)

or the most complicated of all which would be Carlos VERY likely assigning Lando the "woman" role and being unable to have a romantic relationship not based on heterosexuality. don't worry he'd gay sex it up bc sex is His Thing but there'd be specific no-go things for him in bed. this is because of the whole rules obsession and occasional lack of emotional connection problems. this could go really sweet and involve negotiation and self-exploration or it could just be super kinky or it could be really angsty and lead to Carlos almost losing Lando entirely. just know that it'll need solid work shown to bring Carlos out of mainstream gender norms if he even does. he will resist efforts made to rattle the world he's built for himself. if it's dark fic that features social homophobia/internalized homophobia then it could be left as is rather than trying to fix it (as in, they're fighting for their lives or live in constant peril so their relationship doesn't get the attention it needs)

the power balance will always be in favor of Carlos so you'll need to take very good care of Lando and stay in his head most of the time for him not to lose himself completely. think of how Lando always mirrors the vibes of the men he is with at the moment and that a lot of carlando is Lando following Carlos like a puppy.

Carlos will never back down and won't have the capability to deal with fights but he will never EVER reject Lando. if he needs to walk away from a fight he'll state the fact first and do it as a way to clear his head. but he'll always come back. literally Lando could have walked away from him and married someone else but it would just take Carlos seeing his number calling for him to drop everything and be there for Lando like nothing had happened.

Carlos may need to hold all the cards but life without Lando is impossible for him. they'll either be intensely loyal friends in a multiship fic or on a steady track to Carlos putting a ring worth the gross national product of a small country on Lando's finger.