#i dont care if i ''actually am'' a man. the idea of living my life as a man makes me happier than the idea of living my life as a woman

[boycritter]

trying to formulate my thoughts on a topic. failing. i should be allowed to kill.

[softshuji]

Any men out there wanna pretend to be my bf to get my parents off my case about marriage? I am so so serious right now.

[fruitmouse]

looking at pics of me with long hair is sooooo strange now

[boysbeware2]

all the old tptm girl journal entries w the new (if anyone wants to see them again and compare them)

please proceed with caution as many of these could be upsetting to read

disposable girl (jordyn)

(old)

i cant fucking stand this. i try so goddamn hard to make friends, to be attractive to people, to be even somewhat appealing to them etc etc. it never works. i thought it would get better the older i get. thats what i was told. guess what! i was fucking lied to!!! im alwasy left out of EVERYTHING i never get invited to shit and my own friends ignore me all the time. everyone looks at me weird. i cant go in public anymore im so fucking terrified of everyone. nobody fuckinf wants me, man. im so close to doing something stupid i feel so gross and ugly and dumb i should actually just die id be doing everyone a favor LOL

(new)

man, i havent been on here in forever. the internet is kind of dumb. what is there to say? my friend group celebrated our outpatient graduation anniversary the other day, that was pretty nice. we’re all trying to figure out housing stuff, nora’s been helping with that. freyja + mayra + kairi found a place already (how are they so responsible??) and the rest of us are trying to find places near them so we can visit more often. i never expected to have such a big group of friends. if you told me 2 years ago that i’d be living like this, i wouldn’t believe you. it’s still surreal to me. i’m not sure what i did to deserve them. same goes for my girlfriends. i don’t wanna say who just yet, we’re still figuring things out, but i’m just so thankful for them. i feel so lucky to have a second chance at life. i really didn’t believe people when they said it would get better, and then it did. how funny…..

irreverent girl (kairi)

(old)

I do not want God to see me anymore. I do not want anymore eyes on me. This is near unbearable. I have no one to turn to. My mother is in the church. Many of my friends are in the church. They would tell me to find hope through Christ. They would tell me to pray to Him. They would tell me that He will save me. He must not remember He made me, and if He does, He simply does not care. I know this is unbecoming of me, and I don't mean to be dramatic. I am simply depressed, nervous, and I cannot tell what's real and what isn't anymore. I know I'm supposed to hear God speaking to me, but I do not, and I am tired of straining my ears. I just want to see a doctor. I want some kind of tangible solution. I do not want to pray anymore. Praying hurts. I only do it when I am afraid, but I am afraid much of the time. I don't want to be unheard anymore. I do not want to hold out hope for someone who does not act like they're there. I am hurting. I am hurting. I am hurting. Belief is hurting me. The idea of God is hurting me. I need an out. I am hurting.

(new)

When I have a job and money and I can move away from my shitty Mormon parents

splitter girl (tahira)

(old)

theres something so broken in me thats beyond saving. so i dont know why i keep trying to be saved. i meant to kill myself when i was 18. i didnt. all ive wanted to do lately is kill someone or something. i havent. im too much of a pussy to plan anything concrete, no matter how much i hate everyone around me. no matter how much i get off to videos of people dying or how much i love cutting myself i cant actually take action against other people. i am fucking purposeless. i was born from evil and i will always be evil and i cant even live up to that. i hate myself i hate myself i HATE myself and the universe hates me too. i dont know what to fucking do at this point. i talked to one of my friends about wantingto die and they said smthn about hospitalizing myself. maybe. i dunno. i dont know what else there is for me/. my eyes are fucking burning from lookign at my computer for so long adn not getting any goddamn sleep. i am not a good person. i dont think i can be helped but i just dont wanna fucking keep goign to school and being around people and pretending like everything is norma;l. i cant keep doing it. what the fuck is wrong with me whagt happened. why cant i be loved or feel love for other people when did something change in me that switched the aggression and affection parts of my brain. im hyperventilating ill be back. maybe

(new)

getting myself onigiri from this one good boba place 2nite bc im 8 months clean…… its the little things~ ^^

fainéant girl (freyja)

(old)

i know i dont hate being disabled... i just hate being disabled in a society that makes existing difficult... but sometimes i really just dont want to be disabled anymore. i dont want my family to lecture me about how i could be helping out more, or how i should get a job. i dont want teachers to keep asking me whats wrong or the fuckin uni counselor to try to get me hospitalized. i dont want to be in so much pain anymore, to feel so exhausted that i cant even do so much as prepare food for myself, let alone do anything meaningful or fulfilling. its not fair. i shouldnt have to stay inside and sit in the dark all day,. i should be able to have friends. to talk to people and to go out with them and to feel like i am alive. its lonely and traumatic to suffer through this and on top of that no one around me understands, and they never fully will. i am tired of trying to justify my existence to everyone, to explain the pain that i am in and why i shouldnt have to experience it. i know the problem isnt me. i know i live in a world that isnt built for me. but if the world cant change then sometimes i truly feel that i should just stop living in it. my lifespan is already shorter than everyone else's anyways. what difference does it make

(new)

my qpps didnt seem to appreciate me playing Alien Kids Alien Rap for them. Do they even love me

caliber girl (nora)

(old)

唉～It is 3 AM and I should go to sleep but I can’t. I have a work zoom meeting early in the morning and I gotta hit the gym also because I haven’t done leg day in like… weeks. Oh well, it doesn’t even matter. My value is depleting but I don’t think I care anymore. The turnaround date for my code is also in a couple of days and I haven’t made any progress. I keep getting the same error and I’m too tired to figure out what’s wrong. I might get fired at this rate LOL(笑). If that happens, I think I’ll just consider ending it all. Not that anybody will miss me. God I sound so weak and pathetic right now. When did it get like this. How did it get like this. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse before and this is nothing. Ugh, why is it so hard to breathe? My chest hurts and I feel like something is wrong but I don’t know how to make it go away. Should I call someone about this? No. No one is awake or around to help. I��ll be fine. I’ll just sleep it off. Shake it off… shake it off…

(new)

My Tamagotchi beeped during a meeting fml

chocolate box girl (morgan)

(old)

i thought i was doing better but i cant stop thinking about them. their touch, their interests, their smile, everything. the worst part is that i miss them, after all of what they've done to me. i was 13. i dont even feel justified calling it rape since our relationship was so muddy... they never yelled at me or was angry at me, they just got so sad when i tried to speak my mind, and got all my friends to hate me when we finally broke up. i never said no so i feel like im insulting actual survivors by feeling violated. i wasnt even trying to get into a relationship with them, it just happened... i feel like everyone around me wants me in the same way they did, even though im an adult now and i dont even try to make myself appealing. i wish i could trust people not to take advantage of me, and i feel disgusting and selfish for feeling like everyone has ulterior motives of getting me to fall in love with them, or worse. that's so self centered of me. i dont know how long i can keep doing this

(new)

girl help i cant stop looking at anime figures on japan yahoo auctions !!!!!

taxidermy girl (mayra)

(old)

I don't remember ever not having a sex drive, is that normal ? I was born and then it was all downhill from there, something happened to me sexually i think, I don't know what happened, because I don't remember much, but something happened and I was beaten for it and yelled at and my mother hated me, and now I am an adult and I try to have sex, and I'm not there mentally, even if my body is participating, I feel like I am in the past again, being beaten and yelled at . I want to keep trying, I want to have fun, to feel safe in someone else's arms, to reach the heights of pleasure, but my mind scares me so much, I haven't been able to eat anything today because I feel so horrified by my body . If I was good I would have been born as a nonsexual being, no parts, no desires, no instincts, a blank slate, too empty to be enjoyed . Do you know what it feels like, to have your mother tell you people want to sexually abuse you when you are a child, and then to be made fun of by your peers for being so ugly, to have your middle school and high school classmates joke about how much they don't want to have sex with you ? I am illicit and undesirable at the same time, I am everyone's last option, I am nothing and still too much, rotting deer meat on the side of the road . I wish I had been born as something beautiful and pure, I wish I could start over, that whatever that initial sin was had never been committed .. I want to start over

(new)

Went to a kink event the other night and everyone was so nice … The low lights were fucking with my vision so one of the hosts helped me navigate the place . I ❤️ you random disabled ally with a pup mask on

chemical girl (joy)

(old)

LMAOOOOO im too angry and miserable to be around. i think i just need to give up at this point because theres clearly like. something broken inside me that cant be fixed. that has 2 be it because i try to talk and i just sound cold, i try to make a joke and it comes out overly edgy and unfunny, i try to be like everyone else but its too much. i cant even be a collection of the positive traits i see in others, i try to replicate it and it comes out warped and wrong. im either fucking enraged or in abject misery or way too happy and nobody can keep up with me. the thing is i dont even blame them. i wouldnt want to be around me either. do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know? i keep hoping that one day ill wake up and suddenly be normal, the mood swings will be gone and everyone will like me and i wont do stupid shit that pisses them off. but i know that day isnt coming. theres no hope for me and i want to say sorry to everyone who has ever had the misfortune of knowing me but i know it wouldnt do anything. theres nothing i could ever do to make myself right

(new)

i need to convince my gf to take me to Round One again soon

refraction girl (nataana)

(old)

i don't want to do this anymore. i'm going somewhere better

(new)

talked with my psych and i’ll be starting TMS soon, it’s some thing where they put magnets to ur brain and it’s supposed to treat depression.. trying to temper my expectations bc i’ve tried so many treatments that just do nothing for me, but i’d be lying if i said my hopes weren’t riding on this. i want to confidently say i’m glad to be alive. i feel like i’m getting closer to that

nurse parallel/machine girl (xiomara)

(old)

I am so excited... Tomorrow my experimental outpatient treatment plan begins!!! I'm beyond delighted. I have complicated feelings about my DID being in remission, but it's nice to feel stable enough to be in charge of something this big, and to not have terrible gaps in my memory anymore. I still don't remember everything that happened to me, but maybe I don't need to. At this stage of my life, I feel content. I can confidently say everything was worth it. I want to help others feel that way, too. I think I can.

(new)

I’m meeting up with a new friend tomorrow… I feel nervous, but it’s a good nervousness, I think!

[alexa-fika]

ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! Last request before I sleep

Here me out shanks with a 13 year old daughter (who has his iconic red hair) reader who absolutely despised him because he's the reason why her town got attack (Shanks keeps flirting with her mother unknowingly he accidentally made her into an outcast)

Reader who's snarky, a bit rude but polite and well mannered (unlike shanks)

Reader who's always reading and very elegant royalty like but not spoiled and very serious all the time (unlike shanks)

Reader who's secretly insecure and scared that she's always gonna be in her father shadow

Reader who is always in the whitebeard pirates (THOUGHT THIS WASN'T A WHITEBEARD REQUEST BUT I MADE IT ANYWAYS?)

Reader who always dye their hair into black

Reader who bonds with ace because of their daddy issues 🥰

That's it. That's the tweet

Roots ( Ace x f!teen!reader)

Part 2

A/N here we go, I dont feel with this one, I feel like I missed the whole vibe you were trying to get when you submitted the regret, I spend a week just staring at the screen trying to think of how to approach it and I can’t say I choose the right one

Dokucha frowns as the book on her hands is ripped away from her hands, only to let a small smile as she recognizes the candy cane-patterned bracelet

"Ace, you're back," she stated, looking up at the grinning man squatting on the railing

"I'm back," he responds, jumping down from the railing and bringing the girl into a side hug

"What have you been up to today?"

"I am actually taking a small breather before I continue training; I believe it's Haruta's turn for a session," she stated gingerly, clenching her hands in a lower position

"Turn?"He furrowed his brows at her words and the implications behind them

"Dokucha, how many sessions have you done?"

She bites at her lip, shifting her gaze away from his

"This would be the seventh," she muttered

"I told you to stop pushing it, you're only thirteen dokucha, it's okay to train, but this is too much," he scolded

"Is this about Shanks?" he muttered, kneeling down to her level

"I don't want to fall behind."

" I know you don't, but are you just going to waste your life trying to catch him?

Isn't that what you don't want to do? To live your whole life trying to surpass your old man?"

"I can see it in their eyes, Ace, every time we go on a mission; all they can see is him, they don't think of me as Dokucha, they just see his daughter," she murmured, teary eyes flickering back to the man

"Then let them. They have no place in your life, so why would you care what a bunch of strangers think?" he asked

He frowns at the small unconvinced hum that leaves the teen at his words only to bounce back as an idea comes to mind

“ Hey, I found a cool place on my way back; it’s only a few minutes on the Striker; wanna check it out?”

“But Haruta is expecting me…”

“Don’t worry about that; you said you still have some time, right?”

“I suppose so, b-

“Great, you head to the Striker; I will catch back up in a second; need to get something before we head out,” he said, running off

“W- Ace! I din- and he’s gone” she mutters at the retreating form of the commander, taking a glance down at the striker that had been tied to the Moby Dick

“I guess no harm in a small ride.”

-

“How did you find this place?” she muttered

The two found themselves sitting on the Striker, their leaves soaking in crystal clear water as they watched all the fish swim around them, curious about the two visitors

“I visited this island before on one of my missions.”

“Hm”

"Listen, Dokucha, I have told you about my father, yeah?”

“Yes, you did.”

“The reason why I'm so pushy on stopping what you’re doing is because I made the same mistake, and it cost me over 15 years of my life” he started, noticing how his words had finally gotten the girl’s attention

“ I spent all that time trying to follow my father’s legacy, to surpass him. To become the pirate king, to Defeat whitebeard. All the while, it just ate me inside; I was blindsided and led by my anger toward him for all those years. I missed many opportunities to enjoy, to have a carefree childhood just to accomplish that goal”

“How did you…why…”

“Why I stopped?”

“Yes”

“I found pops.”

“ I thought your goal was to take him down to prove yourself?” She asked now facing his way as her legs Straddled the Striker giving him her full attention, loookimg up at him in confusion

“It was; I spent the next few days going after him even after he took me into the moby; every day, I would try.”

“I refuse to believe that” she scoffed with an amused laugh

“I'm serious!

Tried over a hundred times, and every time, I would end up with either a bloody nose or thrown into the sea.”

She covers her mouth as she lets out a muffled laugh at the thought of a grumpy, drenched Ace

“A-Anyway, after that, Marco and later Pops talked with me; it made me realize how useless it was to try to take Pops down and follow after someone else’s dream.”

“Din’t you feel disappointed?”

“Quite the opposite, I felt free for the first time, felt free to make choices based on what I wanted and not to surpass my father; it’s led me to where I am now, and it was the best realization I made in my life.”

“…”

“Keep it in mind, okay? Let’s head back for now,” he said, pushing himself up, extending a hand to the girl as he prepped the Striker

“How do you think I should start?”

“Start what?” He questions, manauvering the Striker through the waves, slowing down as he puts his attention on her

“Letting go”

“Maybe you should start with this,” he said, flicking their head

“Jerk, what was the reason for that?”

“Stop trying to change yourself; your roots are coming out; why don’t you let them grow?”

“Ah!” She exclaims covering her head at his comment, missing the way he sighed and shook his head only to come back to her senses as a weight was placed on her head

“You should be proud of yourself, the way you look, the way you are; at the end of the day, it’s yours, not his; now might be the best time

She looks up at the ravenette questioningly, his iconic hat now missing from his head and gingerly placed on hers

“What do you mean?”

He simply gestures to the new vessel now anchored next to the Moby Dick

“What is he doing here.”

Thoughts?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[philtstone]

24. Showing up injured at their friend/mentor’s house: for shawn? :)

[emerges from writing this fic bloody and beaten and on the verge of collapse] ill explore karen vicks character in an overly complicated post-episode missing scene fic or die trying! set immediately post "right turn or left for dead". i genuinely dont know if im happy with this but i also cant figure out how to fix it. actually, it would have probably been easier to write if i was willing to rewatch the episodes its based on. which i am not, because i am a sensitive little soul. so i winged it. i think there are like 10 different ideas that crop up and theyre all equally fascinating as character threads but i have no idea if i tied them together in an even remotely coherent way. also, WOULD she say that??? i had to call my brother twice to ask. this is what yall get for sending me actually interesting prompts, huh

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Henry’s voice said on the phone. “I’ll send Shawn over with them on his way out. He's going in your direction, anyway.”

In her short tenure as the junior detective to Henry Spencer’s lieutenant, Karen Vick observed two things:

First, that he was a far more clever strategist than most people gave him credit for. Despite the ongoing wreckage of his impending divorce and a kid who was slipping through his fingers as everyone looked on, Karen didn’t agree with the other junior detectives’ impression of him as a smash-the-door-down old school hard ass with thinning hair and a worst attitude. The man played four dimensional chess right out of a bonafide Star Trek episode. When he really wanted something done, Henry Spencer could bullshit and bluff and battle plan with the pros, and half the time you’d get too caught up in the blustering misdirect to realize his game was intricately thought out three steps in advance.

It was how they caught the Shorttown Killer, and also how they got that idiot Trembley at the mayor’s office to finally replace their coffee maker. Karen went home to her then-boyfriend, now-husband, and, right before bed, pulled out an old school workbook and took notes.

The second thing was that Henry Spencer loved his son. 

Not a lot has changed since then, Karen thinks, staring down the weirdness that she now faces through her open front door.

“… Oh — Mr. Spencer,” Karen says, because it’s rude not to greet your employees when they show up at your home outside of work hours, and are also your old friend-slash-colleague’s kid. “Hello. Thanks for — bringing these over.”

“Dad said it was urgent,” Shawn says.

Urgent isn’t quite how Karen would describe it, but hearing through the grapevine that your department might be facing an audit sometime in the next quarter does light a fire under the proverbial ass. Karen would rather bend a few rules and make sure the last year’s i’s and t’s are dotted and crossed right than leave her detectives vulnerable to the whims of a mayoral stooge. 

In general, Karen prides herself on caring about the people under her command just enough that it inspires genuine friendship and loyalty. The just is important. Care needs tempering – it’s important to pull back, press pause, keep certain lines uncrossed. It’s especially important if you want to be successful as a woman in an authority position where lives are often on the line. 

What she’s saying is that she tries to make it none of her business what her employees get up to in their spare time. She really genuinely does. She’s shut O’Hara down gently midway through the twelfth sweetly-frazzled attempt to overshare about her dating life (or her efforts to befriend her next-door neighbor, or the endearing personality quirks of her last cat – rest in peace, Triscuit, you will be missed –) enough times to be well-versed in the art of I Won’t Ask, You Won’t Tell, But You’ll Probably Know I Care Anyway.

An invaluable rapport to maintain. In any situation, Karen thinks, but especially when you’re a person who regularly hires and works alongside Shawn Spencer.

She’s not sure whether what she’s looking at right now makes her want to second guess or double down on her usual policy. 

“Special delivery,” Shawn adds, like everything is super normal.

Karen narrows her eyes. She glances behind them into the quiet residential street.

“Shawn,” she says.

“Yes, Chief?”

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Ha,” he says, half rolling his eyes to accompany a weird aborted grin. “No. Even I don’t think riding a motorcycle with a concussion is a good idea. What if someone who wasn’t me got hurt? That’s — that would be no good, then you’d have to arrest me. Wouldn’t that be a huge bummer for the whole team, Chief? Gus would cry. And my dad wouldn’t let me take his truck.”

Karen stares at him. Shawn stares at the ground.

“I got a cab,” he says.

“And you are … taking another cab – home?”

Shawn looks quite suddenly like he’s going to be sick.

“Sure,” he says. 

Shawn looks terrible. Bruised face, bags under his eyes, and a weird frenetic energy twitching in his limbs that doesn’t pair well with his general air of exhaustion. He’s holding his shoulders stiffly and can barely meet her eye. His t-shirt and sweatpants are rumpled, like he slept in them, even though it’s too early in the evening for Henry to have woken him up to send him here, and when he thrusts the promised files out into the air toward her, abrupt and, admittedly, Shawn-like, he only just hides the awkward wince that immediately overtakes his left side.

The last couple days have been a bit of a whirlwind, so Karen can’t say she necessarily blames herself for not looking more closely. 

Even so.

Slowly, Karen reaches forward and divests him of the case files. They slip a little bit, because Karen can’t seem to stop peering shrewdly at Shawn’s face while she does it, and on instinct he reaches forward to stop the stack from toppling. 

It does help, but the autopilot he moves on makes it harder to mask what is to Karen’s eyes a very obvious flinch. 

“Alright,” is all he says. “Well, good to see you. Time to head back to the old hay stack.”

Like a needle in a haystack and time to hit the hay, Karen supplies needlessly in her own head. Aloud, she says, in many ways against her better judgment, 

“Mr. Spencer, are you okay?”

Shawn sways on the spot for a second, one fist clenched, mouth half open. For a strange moment, Karen gets the impression that he’s trying really hard not to say the wrong thing.

“... As rain,” he finally manages, then nods to himself like he achieved some great feat. “Okay. Well –”

“Did something happen to your shoulder?” 

“What? No!” Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and he shakes his head, “I’m – fine, Chief. It’s not – I mean, I’m – normal, fine. Fine in a normal way.”

“That’s not something an individual who’s fine in a normal way would say,” Karen says. 

“Uh, is it not! It is. I would know, because I am that individual. It’s – I was – there’s just mild – pfft … stab wound – or something, who would even …”

Is Shawn broken? is the unhelpful thought that pops into Karen’s head. She’s never heard an attempt to bullshit collapse so quickly into pathetic nothingness before – certainly not from Shawn.

Perhaps even more than his father, the kid’s a pro.

And then the rest of the sentence catches up with her.

“A mild stab wound?”

Oh boy. She watches Shawn’s eyes widen with the panic that proceeds an unquestionable blunder.

“Chief –” 

“In.”

“Chief, I really, really don’t think –”

“Inside my house. Now.”

He’s certainly uncoordinated enough that he doesn’t put up much of a fight. Karen herds him  through the door as firmly as possible and leads them in a beeline past Richard’s office toward the bathroom, ignoring the reedy stream of consciousness that spills out of Shawn’s mouth as they go.

“Oh, hey, woah, it’s been like forever since I was in here. Did you redecorate? I swear that lamp wasn’t there the last time we visited. It could be the tacos I had earlier, but I’m sensing a distinct neo-modern Chinese aesthetic going on here, Chief, which calls to mind the merits of cultural appreciation in suburban home decor – hey, is that your husband’s office? Can I meet him? Is he home? That man is a true enigma to us, Chief, and it’s leading me to believe that he must possess all the facial and personality qualities of the pop superstar Mr. Pitbull Worldwide –”

Richard is home, actually, and Karen needs to alert him to the fact that they have an unexpected house guest, so, ignoring Shawn completely, she calls out,

“Honey? Shawn Spencer’s here for a couple minutes about a work thing! I’ll go up to put Iris to bed in a second!” in the finely-honed There Are Many Layers Of Complicated To This secret married tone that Richard should probably be able to catch through the closed office door. 

“Alright,” floats out her husband’s pleasant voice. “Tell him hi from me.”

Perfect. There’s about a ninety-three percent chance he understood.

They make it to the bathroom, only stumbling slightly. Shawn says,

“-- or The Rock. Does your husband look like Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson? I really think that would make so many things about the Chief Vick family make sense –”

Karen closes the bathroom door with a snap and crosses her arms.

“Sit,” she says, in a voice that even he knows brooks no argument.

Shawn does. He looks – well, beyond uncomfortable, and more than a little bit miserable, and probably closer to completely dissociating than either of them are prepared for. Karen wonders belatedly if he's gotten any sleep at all in the last forty-eight hours.

“I’m assuming you have not been to the hospital.”

He gives her a baleful look, like he really expected better of her. She only just stops herself from rolling her eyes in response. And there’s that huge goose egg on his forehead, too. What, exactly, he got up to in between Carlton’s wedding reception and oh-eight-hundred hours this morning Karen has no idea, but he looks like someone’s run him through the world’s most aggressive industrial tumble dry cycle and spat him mercilessly back out. 

Or maybe over with a truck.

Sending a silent prayer to the universe that Iris never hit puberty and remains a sweet-tempered six-year-old forever, Karen gets to business.

“Well, I had to at least ask. Shawn. Does it need stitches?” He mumbles the answer the first time, and then looks beyond startled when she grabs him under the chin so he’ll look her in the eye. “Listen. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re going to tell me the truth. Got it?”

Shawn grimaces so hard at her words it’s almost a flinch. 

“No,” he says finally, clearly enough that she hears him. Karen raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think it needs stitches,” he articulates, but doesn’t meet her eye.

“Hm. Alright. I have gauze and tape in the medicine cabinet. Can I … is it alright if I pull up the sleeve of your t-shirt?”

Released from her hold, he groans and presses his face into one palm. “Chief –”

“I don’t really know what you expected, coming here! It’s not like I’m any less of a hardass than your father.”

“Yeah, but I can bitch back at my dad,” Shawn says, sounding like he’s finally realizing the magnitude of his mistake. Karen smiles grimly.

“Tough. Now pull your shirt up while I get the first aid kit.”

While Shawn proceeds to wrestle awkwardly with his t-shirt in a muted shuffle against the toilet seat, Karen rummages efficiently through the cabinet and eyes him through the bathroom mirror. He seems oddly reluctant to expose himself. In fact, in a stark contrast to his usual insistence on making his presence and contributions as obtrusively obvious as possible, Shawn seems intent on shrinking into the aforementioned Asian-flavored floral wallpaper (which does need an update, unfortunately) with all the equanimity of an anxious chameleon. Karen feels her eyebrows crease. Taking the first aid kit in hand, she brings it over and deposits it into his arms, ignoring his small startle.

“How about you hold that,” Karen says. Shawn does, against his chest, like a pillow. She walks around him and surveys the damage, antiseptic gauze in hand.

He wasn’t lying about the severity, at least. It’s a shallow thing, already mostly congealed, and has only stained his shirt in a small smattering spot of crusty brown blood.

Karen swabs at it with the alcohol using light careful fingers.

“Ow, ow ow ah –”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s hardly a life-threatening injury.”

“Super insightful, Chief,” Shawn snaps, as genuinely sarcastic as he’s probably ever been with her, “never thought of that myself. Totally the reason why I just had to go to the hospital.”

He doesn’t pull away, but she can feel the tension radiating through his back. She blinks, one eyebrow crawling up her forehead. 

Alright then. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

“I’m assuming your father doesn’t know about this,” she says.

Shawn grunts, noncommittal. Huh. Maybe he does know, then, and has just been disallowed from doing anything about it right now.

She tosses the first used antiseptic wipe into the trash.

Goddamn four dimensional chess.

She supposes she’s never been bad at the game. She may as well work her way backwards through the moves: Guster, the most obvious node in Shawn’s turn-to-in-a-crisis-system, would never voluntarily abandon his friend in a time of need, so Karen assumes that whatever this is has either already included his support or not been made known to Gus at all yet. Henry’s likely exhausted his own usefulness in the situation, and Detective O’Hara is …

Karen has to work very hard for her hands not to pause in a way that gives away her hard-earned mental sleuthing. A bad feeling wholly unrelated to her ill-advised hangover of the day before begins to bloom at the back of her gut.

“You have really small hands, Chief.”

Shawn’s voice is notably more subdued than before.

“Do I?” 

“They’re like … little kangaroo hands. Like the mom kangaroo from Whinnie the Pooh.”

“Didn’t you know?” Karen says, not unkindly. “They’re given out at the hospital when all first-time moms leave with their baby.”

He lets out a tired little laugh, more boyish than he probably means it to be, and in spite of herself Karen feels her heart clench. She isn’t blind. In all her last seven years as the leader of their chaotic little precinct, she has never seen Juliet O’Hara look as ill as she did yesterday morning. The usually sweet-faced young woman had all the pallor of a Victorian ghost, and stood so far away from Shawn in any given room that to an unassuming observer he might have had the plague.

There are only a handful of things, Karen thinks, that could have invited that particular evolution in their dynamic. She rips the surgical tape from its canister a little bit more harshly than is strictly necessary and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“So,” she says conversationally, laying the tape down in neat, gentle little strips, trying not to pinch the wound too tightly. “Any fun plans for the evening?”

Shawn sniffs. She can see him gripping his hands together over his knee from where she stands above him.

“Um, yeah, uh –” he clears his throat, “you know me, Chief. We’re working our way through a Robert Guillame marathon, which means some good old fashioned Benson, running commentary on the quality of that child acting, naturally.”

“Naturally.” 

“Then Gus and I were gonna hit up the new, the new chili cheese joint up by Hermosa, you know – they’re doing sliders –”

“Chili cheese sliders?” Karen hums, contemplative.

“Buy ‘em by the pound,” Shawn agrees. “Then I was thinking of getting a tattoo, maybe a belly button piercing, I’ve been really – really needing a change – would you let Iris get one, if she asked?”

“A tattoo?” Karen clarifies, cutting off the next piece of tape. The skin around the cut is warm to her touch but Shawn’s arms have goosepimpled. The hair at the back of his head sticks up unstyled, like he slept weirdly and couldn’t be bothered to fix it come morning.

“Of a marmoset. That’s what I’m thinking. With distinctly effeminate vibes.”

“Well, Dick hates marmosets. So I’d probably encourage her toward something else. Perhaps a sea lion.”

“Like Shabby.” The nervous note has bled into his legs again, and his earlier subdued tone has gone back to sounding strained. “Yeah, that’ll – that could be it.”

“All in one night, huh?” Karen says.

“I –” Shawn doesn’t even hiss when she presses down with a cotton gauze to cover the last of the thickened blood. His legs are properly jittering again. “I was – yeah, y-you know me, Chief, total night owl.”

“Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“What about going home?”

Silence. Shawn doesn’t answer for a moment long and pregnant enough that Karen wonders if her question will be ignored entirely. 

Then,

“Chief,” he says finally, in an awful, tiny little voice, “I really, really fucked up.”

Finally, her hands do falter in their ministrations; as emotionally exuberant as Shawn often is, she doesn’t think she’s ever actually heard him close to tears. For a horrible moment she wonders if Shawn Spencer will suddenly start crying atop her toilet seat for reasons neither of them are capable of discussing honestly. Then she wonders if her horror makes her a terrible boss.

Boss – mother – person.

Oh, dear.

She sets down the surgical tape and lays a ginger palm over the newly-bandaged gouge in his shoulder. It’ll probably scar, but not at all badly. She doesn’t like to think about the far more obvious one just below, puckering in a violent yet unassuming divot. Another narrow miss for Henry’s boy. 

At this point there are so many of them to count, Karen has to question the statistical likelihood of the whole thing. Becoming a mathematical anomaly is, Karen can attest with confidence, not exactly the future the Lieutenant Spencer she knew dreamed of for his increasingly unmanageable teenager. 

Doing what he loved, on the other hand – absolutely. Being with a person he loved, even more so. Karen grits her teeth at the irritating web she’s spent the last six years constructing around herself and wonders if this evening right here is some kind of cosmic karma for leaving Iris in the care of nannies for the first three years of her life.

That sounds like the kind of thing those horrible parenting magazines and Karen’s mother-in-law would claim, anyway.

“Shawn,” she says slowly, because she has to at least knock this possibility off the list before risking her career in an attempt to mediate her detectives’ love lives, “did you … you weren’t – unfaithful, were you?”

“What?!” 

Shawn yanks his shoulder away and whirls around to face her with such a look of horrified betrayal on his face that it’s almost comical. 

“No!” 

Thank fucking God, Karen thinks. Aloud, she says,

“Well, I’m sorry, I had to at least ask!”

“No! No! What the hell, Chief!”

“Oh would you be quiet! I’m gathering my evidence here!”

“How could I – I would never – you’d even think that I could –”

“I know! Shawn, for God’s sake –” He’s scrambled to his feet in the cramped bathroom space, glaring, and has probably messed up all that surgical tape in the process. The half open first aid kit and his crumpled shirt press lopsided against his front and her garbage can is now full of oxidizing bits of cotton. Karen officially gives in to the urge to press her palms against her forehead. “I had to ask!” she repeats finally. “You and I both know you’re not gonna give me much else to work with, and you sounded so – so sad!” 

Shawn barks out a hysterical little laugh. Karen almost growls in frustration. 

“I am not going to risk all the very hard-earned rules I have in place without knowing for sure that my instincts aren’t wrong. Is that so hard to appreciate?”

Does it count as sound police work when the framework for your investigation is an unacknowledged lie? Karen doesn’t really know. Probably there’s another math metaphor to be made in there (you screwed your proof from the very beginning, maybe, Richard the professor would definitely have thoughts), or just a straight up joke. How to solve a case that’s cold before it ever has the chance to go live; a cover-up if she ever saw one. Unlikely that O’Hara will peep a word, and things will be a true mess for a few weeks, if she can’t make an educated guess about it. And no one will be explaining anything to Carlton, either …

Right before their goddamn audit, Karen thinks, aggrieved. She wonders if Henry considered this in his calculus. Send Shawn over, have her deal with him. Offer a huge unspoken you’re gonna be walking into a shitstorm tomorrow canary for her perennially chaotic mess of a coal mine. 

She can’t help but feel begrudgingly grateful, but that doesn’t mean she and he won’t be having words about this later.   

“Jesus, Karen,” Shawn mutters, pressing his face back into his free hand. Karen shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

“Well then! Back to the issue. You fucked up.”

“You know what? I can’t talk about this with you.”

“Oh, Mr. Spencer, I assure you I am more than well aware.”

Shawn blinks at her between his fingers, looking genuinely confused for the first time since he showed up at her door. 

Karen does not bother to clear up his confusion; it’s better this way, anyhow.

“Will you be sleeping at Gus’s place or your father’s?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“I’m – I don’t –” Shawn doesn’t meet her eye. The earlier thread of anxiety is back. “I wasn’t …”

So, neither. 

“Put your shirt back on,” she says. “We’re relocating to the living room.”

“Chief –”

“That was an order, Mr. Spencer.”

The living room is as quiet and mundane as it was an hour ago. It’s past Iris’s bedtime – she’ll have to go up, and soon at that. Karen seats her guest, retrieves a mug and a bag of chamomile from the kitchen, and removes the fluffy throw blanket from the basket behind the couch on her way back in. He’s deflated completely by the time the tea and blanket are set in front of him. Small and exhausted. Caught. It’s a horrible way to think about it. But she can’t avoid the hundred yard stare – Karen has seen it one too many times in people only just realizing they’re about to go away for life.

“Shawn,” she says, firm as she can make it. “Drink the tea. You’re dehydrated.”

“I’m … what?”

“Your lips are dry. You shouldn’t be dehydrated with a concussion.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Karen suddenly wonders if he’s going to get up and leave. She has experience with these things – she knows a runner when she sees one.

“I might as well have,” Shawn finally whispers.

She doesn’t catch it the first time. “What?”

“I – I might as well ha – Chief, I …” Deep shuddering breaths. He’s finally shutting down, she realizes. She can’t send him back out like this; Henry would give her the stink eye for a month.

Goddamn Spencers and their goddamn irritating overcomplicated lives.

Karen pushes the tea directly into his hands and tilts her chin so she can meet Shawn’s eye. He’s still lucid enough that she doesn’t think he’ll start hyperventilating, but now that the outrage and adrenaline has worn off, the symptoms of shock are pretty hard to miss. “Shawn,” she says again, and wills for him to understand.

“What if she – what if I never –” He can’t get the full sentence out. He looks at her, eyes wide and terrified.

Life sentence, Karen thinks again. The messy stack of files Shawn brought over sits almost unimportantly on the coffee table between them and a memory comes to her, unbidden, of words penned carefully in the corner of a modified police report that she pulled the minute the door closed on the McCallum case seven years ago. 

Date: May 4th, 1995. Reporting Officer, Spencer, Lt. H. Perpetrator a caucasian male, brown hair, five foot nine, insists on wearing those stupid earrings just to spite me. What the hell do you want me to write here, Chief? Spent two hours in the fucking principal’s office convincing them not to expel him one month off from graduation. All that effort, and I still booked the kid. It’s gonna follow him for life, and it’s gonna be me that did it to him. For life. You think he’ll ever forgive me? He’s the greatest thing in my pathetic little world and he keeps breaking my heart, and I can’t even properly accept that it’s my fault. 

How’s that for a fucking crime.

She needs to go put her daughter to bed. It’s the thought that keeps running through her head, oddly enough, like a strange antidote to the impotent anger and heartbreak and frustration she’s feeling for the people under her care.

With all the notes she took in that little workbook, she still let herself become complicit in the painstaking, convoluted resolution of Henry’s mistakes without accounting for all the variables.  

Richard’s footsteps sound muffled in the next room; he’s made his way upstairs in Karen’s absence. She needs to go. She wants to hear the soft and sleepy love you Mama that with her unpredictable hours and regular long nights isn’t nearly routine enough.

“Shawn,” she says evenly. “Do you love her?”

It’s hard to reconcile the smarmy kid who tried to barter with her for twelve hundred a day with the devastated young man sitting on the couch in front of her.

“Chief …” he starts, barely above a whisper.

“Good. Then she’ll see that. Detective O’Hara is a smart and observant woman. What she chooses to do next is her decision, but … you might be – well, comforted by the fact that she’ll know that – truth.”

Shawn stares at her. The tea steams in front of him, cooling in increments. She takes a deep breath and gets to her feet, patting his uninjured shoulder brusquely. 

“I have to go check on Iris. When I come back down, I can drive you to the Psych office.”

Iris is fast asleep when she gets there. A library book lays open face down over her stomach, and her soft brown hair fans out against the pillow, silhouetted by the soft glow of the unicorn nightlight in the wall above her. Karen turns off the bedside lamp, tucks her daughter in, and kisses her forehead. Just before she leaves, she hears it: murmured, half-awake.

“Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Karen goes back to her living room, car keys in hand. She’s planned her next move in the driver’s seat enough times throughout her career that it shouldn’t be too hard. 

[randomfansstuff]

saw your post on peter in gotham and am begging for fic recs!

this might be my moment.

Disclaimer: I am more of a spiderman gal than a dc girlie, so I can't judge how in character the DC Characters are. All the fics I rec had them as interesting characters that I enjoy despite not knowing anything about them. Additionally, all my recs are from ao3 Let's go 😌

Fics Under The Cut

Peter the Pizza Guy by Irisen

Peter needs money to survive in Gotham and picks up a pizza delivery job. Post-NoWayHome

39/?Chapters, 197k (currently)

- genuninely one of my favorite Peter and Jason Todd characterizations I've ever seen, also the BAMF Peter here is actually amazing. the author knows what they're dealing with in regards to Peter's powers. also the fight scenes?! actual chefs kiss. many chapters had me at the edge of my seat. This fic really shows how connected Peter is to Spider-Man on a mental health level. Peter loves being Spider-Man, but his failure in NHW makes him feel like he doesn't deserve being him. URGH, IT'S SO GOOD. from what I know, a sequel is already in the works, and honestly I'm almost as excited for that as I am for that new spiderman animated show coming out this month LMFAO

_____

Dark Matter by mysterycyclone

The last thing Peter sees is Tony's horrified, heartbroken expression leaning over him. The guilt in his eyes is almost worse than the burning pain that's taking Peter apart piece by piece. The world starts to go dark. Post-InfinityWar

46/46Chapters, 241k words

- how can I ever make a peter goes to gotham fic rec list without including Dark Matter? for those that don't know, this is THEEEEEEEEE og Peter in Gotham fic. I don't know if it was the first, but I can tell you finding a Peter in Gotham fic NOT inspired by DM is almost impossible. This one gets points all across the board. It has an amazing mix of Peter Whump while also staying truthful to the hope his character encompasses. Amazing Peter introspection, and I love the way it handles Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown and Duke Thomas.

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The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin

Spider-man in gotham, just with identity. Post-NoWayHome

35/35Chapters, 199k

- okay guys. I have not yet finished reading this fully because of how emotionally compromised I was after finishing the first Act 😭 I never thought a fic could make me care this much about side characters. While in Gotham, the setting is very reminiscent of "little guy" stuff with Peter having to live day-to-day life, and the author manages to make this atmosphere known so, so well. Peter also has to act without his spider powers here, which is such an interesting thing I haven't read before. Very good Peter Whump that doesn't get overbearing though. He's sad, but he's still Peter fucking Parker yk

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Leap of Faith by alighterwood,ErinWantsToWrite

Peter’s heart swells at the thought. He needs heroes! They’ll be able to help him! The first thing that pops up is a website- JusticeLeague.Org. NoCorrelationToCanonTimeline

18/?Chapters, 460k

- OKAY. In this one, the authors took the canon mcu timeline and decided to do whatever the hell they want with it. which I have massive respect for, mind you. Peter is fourteen years old here, which means he's a little more immature but I enjoyed the way he pushes himself through gotham. one of the few fics where he actually wants to return home, too. my favorite point in this fic, however, is a certain tag. if you dont look at tags, and dont want to be spoilered, look away NOW. Okay so, we all know Nightwing is Richard Dick Grayson, right?! And like, Peter's dads name is RICHARD Parker, so some authors like to utilize this and say that they are the SAME person but different timelines/universes. And I am in love with that idea. The amount of drama it brings to the table? Guys this is what I read fanfiction for. Genuinenly the amount of plot you can get from just that idea alone is insane. The fix utilizes this very well, and I also like a lot of the action it has :D

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That's it for now! I'm currently slightly fixated on these types fanfictions, and there's a LOT more I can rec you if you want. So, if you want more recs, feel free to send me another ask lol

[linalavender]

How Tatsuki Fujimoto writes Affection

First of all I would like to give massive credit to Tiktok user @campaign_baby for their Tiktok I saw on this that really made me think of it alot more

I will Bring up Examples from:

Shikaku

Mermaid Rhapsody

Goodbye Eri

Fire Punch

Chainsaw Man Part 1 (Quite a big spoiler in this will give fair warning)

Fujimoto has a sort of strange method he uses to write that a character Loves/cares deeply for someone. And its The character either being willing to be consumed or to provide sustenance to someone, Or to consume the other person. Examples:

Shikaku

After Shikaku confesses her love for Yucel, He rushes to the hospital to offer her his blood, Making her into an immortal vampire just like him. Yucel has also fallen for Shikaku, its basically his confession of love, He wants to live with her Forever.

Its drawn in a way you can tell its such an act of compassion too.

Mermaid Rhapsody

"I loved her so much that I thought, If it was by someone with a smile as pretty as hers, Maybe being eaten wouldn't be so bad."

Toshihides Dad feels the exact same way about his Mom as Toshihide feels about Shijyu. Mermaids eat humans, But that never mattered to either of them.

Goodbye Eri

In Yuutas Movie about Eri, He writes her to be a Vampire, because he wouldnt actually mind to be her sustenance, In his movie, he loves Eri so much. (I genuinely cant read this fucking story without sobbing, Rereading it again just to get this screengrab just made me cry for like 20 min help)

Fire Punch

This one is Pretty straight forward, Agni with his regenerative powers feeds his village by continuously chopping of his Arm so they dont all starve to death. But more importantly he does this to prevent his sister from doing it aswell. He doesnt want her to suffer that pain so he takes sole responsibility for providing himself to the village.

Agni also later feeds his followers with the help of Togata Chopping of the part of his face that isnt on Fire. I think this has more todo with making sure Togata gets fed rather than his followers, To Agni Togata means alot.

⚠️Chainsaw Man Part 1 (Spoilers for the Final arc)⚠️

When Power is about to Die, Power not only offers her own blood For Denji to Drink so he can get back to health, But Pochita also offers a small part of himself so she can come back as a Powerful Devil.

And ofcourse the big one is Denji Eating Makima. He obviously has to and all for the sake of erasing her. But he explicitly says it wasnt an Attack, It was an act of Love.

Its such a fascinating thing that the idea of consuming someone can be concidered something you do to a cherished one, as an affectionate thing. I guess as Denji mentions that you basically become one with eachother in a way if you consume them.

But this is such a Weird thing Right? Where does this idea even originate from? Well ofcourse we can only Speculate but I really think he took on inspiration from his own life here, Because he has actually done this to someone he loved. Yes, Seriously.

Tatsuki Fujimoto eating his deceased Pet Fish

In the Authors notes for "Tatsuki Fujimoto Before Chainsaw Man: 22-26" Fujimoto shares a story from when he was 24:

"Even though we were poor, we had a pet Japanese rice fish. I found it dead one summer. I went to toss its body into the trash like in Parasyte, but my girlfriend said she wanted me to bury it, So off I went to the park, alone. I tried to bury it under this big tree, but the ground was too hard, my hands got all dirty and I had no hole to show for my effort. Out of Options, I figured I would pretend I had buried the fish and left it lying there on top of the ground. As I watched it for a little while, ants found the body and began to carry it away. Im not sure what came over me, but in that moment, love for that pet fish welled within me for the first time. I brushed the ants away, and then Ate it."

You can read the full story here

It has that "Wait what the hell am I reading" Charm to the story like alot of his works, But theres something so weirdly beautiful about this story, Somehow stricken with grief and love for this fish, He ate it. As Denji says, its not an attack, his fish is part of him now and its an act of love. So strange, yet so Beautiful.

Anyways thanks for reading this insanely long post if you even got this far I appreciate it!

[normalestenstars]

I'm so curious about the responses about the customer service regarding shu, I just know they would be really funny. He's a freakazoid weirdo

sure, i can copy & paste them! they're under the readmore because it's 29 responses and the post is super long

Shu responses

his demands are not on my level sir...

him or izumi. i feel like i would start crying instantly

Just remembering that one time he axed a pc, I know this isn't the same situation but it's still worrying.

He would be so rude. it was between Shu and Izumi aka the Karens of ES. Like sure wataru would pull some weird shit but that would be funny and I’d play along. Shu and Izumi would just scream at me as if it’s my fault that their favourite ice cream flavour ran out on a regular ass Thursday afternoon I’m not being paid enough to care about

i feel like it should be obvious. nightmare customer.

It. It's Shu. What else is there to elaborate, bro fought with a first year junior over bread in the cafeteria you think he's gonna cut ME some slack??

Shu was banned from using Twitter, I feel like he would be an awful Karen if he had to use customer service

he would have a really hard time speaking into the phone and following directions. i can deal with angry, miscommunication kills me

Karen energy

i feel like he would yell at me and i would cry then he would proceed to yell at me more for crying. or maybe Izumi would do that idk

I vaguely remember hearing that there was an incident where he axed (or almost axed) a computer bc of online comments or smth… so uhhhhhhhh yeah

if i mess up ONE THING he's going to start screaming at me in french

I hate the French language (I am French)

He can be really mean. And I don't speak French

i love shu but he's insufferable

itsuki shu axed his computer. itsuki shu is banned from social media. i have no doubts in my belief that he would be the WORST customer to be ever dealt with. you will hear this man be insanely specific about whatever kind of thing he's dealing with while you're stuck in your shift wanting to jump off a cliff as you speak to him. at some point in his complaints it strays away from what he actually wants from you and starts ranting about eichi and how he fucked up his life. if itsuki shu ever calls me im declining and blocking his number ASAP.

I would cry he's scary

can you fucking imagine.

I DONT WANT TO DEAL WITH HIM 😭😭😭😭 LEAVE ME ALONE (NO HATE BTW)

shu would have me killed i fear he has the strongest karen energy out of the entire enstars cast

shu seems like he would feel entitled to getting a discount because i mispronounced a french word which offended him

He’s my silly little bingus freak but god he needs to calm tf down every once and a while… he also famously had his socmed privileges taken away by single hardworking mom ibara if i remember correctly… in conclusion, i’m handing the phone to someone else bruh never meet ur idols

i can't elaborate i'm getting scared just thinking about it

Not only do rich people have no idea how to treat retail workers like human beings, but Shu has a history of lashing out, sometimes violently! Love Shu with all my heart but is so picky and sensitive and i know that I will be yelled at

The second he pulls out 'non!' im gonna throw myself into a river

He’s really fucking perfectionistic i would cry but mayoi as a close second because he would just stay silent and not say anything but also not hang up for like 3 hours, he would be breathing heavily in the phone before letting out a squeak and hanging up ountil someone convinces him to call again and it just repeats

shu would yell at me :((( and i would start crying :((((

he's just kind of unbearable (complimentary) especially as any kind of customer

Everyone else's flavour of weird I can handle but I'd hand in my resignation if I needed to deal with Shu regularly. And I live a car ride away from France—I mean it.

[lycandrophile]

hey, sorry idk if its ok for me to ask for advice here, but im really lost and dont know where else to go.

i might be starting testosterone really soon, (via informed consent) but i keep flipping back and forth on whether or not i'm sure i want it. some days i think, "yes 100% im a man i want T right now" and thinking abt the effects of T makes me euphoric. other days i think, "wait AM i sure tho? what if it turns out i hate it actually" and thinking abt the effects of T on those days makes me anxious and ambivalent.

i think it might be just a fear of change, but i'm not sure, and i'm worried about making a decision i'll regret forever. it doesnt help i keep seeing ppl say things like "you need to be 100% sure you want hrt before u start because going back and forth puts a huge strain on the body" etc, but i dont know if i ever will be 100% sure.

what do you make of this? do i really need to be 100% sure? am i rushing in too fast? or is this just anxiety talking?

i spent years agonizing over if i was really sure that i wanted to start t, and you know what it taught me?

no one is ever 100% sure about anything. it’s an impossible task. that’s just not how people work — you’re always going to find more things to be anxious or unsure about when you think about it because it’s an unknown thing and it’s completely natural to be at least a little unsure of unknown things.

and most of the time, nobody expects you to be 100% sure about big decisions because we all know it’s an unfair expectation. nobody told me i couldn’t go to college because i wasn’t 100% sure where i wanted to go. nobody tells you to never drive anywhere because you’re not 100% sure that the car won’t crash. accepting risk is a part of life. trusting ourselves to make the best decisions we can — and trusting ourselves to be able to handle whatever happens next — is an unavoidable part of life.

the only reason we’re held to that impossible standard of 100% certainty when it comes to medically transitioning is because people are transphobic and they want us to second guess ourselves and put off hormones or surgery out of fear. if everyone waited until they were 100% sure, no one would ever transition, and that’s exactly what they want.

i look at it like this: hormones are like any other medication. you take them because you decide they have a good shot at making your life better even though there’s also a chance they might be ineffective, have bad side effects, or even make things worse in the end. we accept that risk every time we take a medication because we weigh the options and decide the good that could come of them is worth that risk. imagine if doctors only offered medical care to people when they were 100% sure it would work and not have any side effects — they would never do anything at all!

i can’t tell you if hrt is right for you. i can’t tell you if the risk is worth it for you. what i can tell you is that, when i was unsure about what to do, there were two things that made me decide it was worth the risk:

the first is that i knew i wanted to give myself a chance. the idea of going on hormones only to get more dysphoria from it sounded terrifying, but the reality was that i was already living with dysphoria! and the idea of just accepting that because i was afraid to try the thing that could make it better was even more terrifying. at the end of the day, i decided it was better to choose the option that could make things better than it was to just spend the rest of my life wondering if it would’ve helped. the worst case scenario in both choices is dysphoria, so i figured, why not pick the option where the best case scenario is euphoria? i know dysphoria is something i can live with because i’ve been doing it for years, so i felt that i could trust myself to be able to deal with that outcome if it came. i knew it was possible that i would regret it and wish i had never started t, but i also knew i would regret it even more if i went my whole life never having given myself a chance at something better than the dysphoria i already live with. i figured, if i have to take a risk, why not take the one that excites me instead of the one i would just be taking out of fear?

the second is that hormones are fucking slow. there can be some changes that happen fast but for the most part, the changes on t take time to happen fully, and if i wanted even more time i knew i could take a lower dose to slow things down further. it’s not like you just wake up one day with a totally different body — it’s a process, and if at any point in that process you realize you don’t like what’s happening, you can stop! you’re completely in control; the second it starts to feel like it’s making something worse instead of better, you can decide to stop taking it. even with the changes that came quickest for me, i had time to assess as they started happening, and it would’ve been as simple as putting down the syringe and never using it again if i decided i didn’t want those changes to continue.

(and the people who say you can’t start and stop because of the strain on your body are exaggerating — i had to start and stop multiple times because i was having allergic reactions to all of the serums we tried, and i was totally fine. that was never even a concern my nurse brought up to me. i’m sure it’s not ideal to do that constantly, but i don’t think it’s a big thing you have to worry about.)

again, i can’t tell you if starting t is the right move for you. all of this is just how i made that decision for myself; i can’t make yours for you. what i can tell you is that you are more than capable of making a thoughtful and informed decision without being 100% sure. certainty is not a requirement.

and frankly, anyone who tells you they were 100% sure when they made that decision is either lying about it because they feel like they should’ve been totally certain, or they were in a position to make the decision so quickly that it didn’t leave time to mull things over and find things to be unsure of.

which leads me to my final point: if you’re thinking about it this hard and trying to be this meticulous about making the right decision, you’re absolutely not rushing into it. whatever decision you make, you’ve clearly put a lot of thought into it and that’s all anyone can ask of you.

this is your decision, not anyone else’s, and already you have everything you need to make the best decision you possibly can. trust yourself to choose wisely, and trust yourself to be able to handle whatever your choice brings. you got this.

[squishranger]

AT LAST SEVERAL MONTHS OF BRAINROT COME TO FRUITION

here's a carrd for all tptmers who want to meet some Fun New Girls That I Made (it defaults you to the first girl, but the button leading to the second one is at the bottom... and at the bottom of the second girl's page... is a button leading back to the first! careful not to get stuck in an infinite loop.)

EDIT: OH GOD ITS SO UGLY ON MOBILE. USE YOUR COMPUTER PLEASE

the full designs, transcripts and screenshots of the carrd for mobile users, and other such ramblings are under the cut

REVERIE GIRL , she/they/cloud/dream/star/whatever suits your fancy, wants the world to spin both faster and slower than it does... if she had the gumption, they'd have everything she wanted by now, but they tend to only have the energy to lay in bed and think about lost times. she's a nostalgiacore girlie and she has little else to go off of in terms of defining who she is. (star's... basically just a self-insert.)

PAGE:

JOURNAL TRANSCRIPT: ohhhh my god what am i doing . i cant keep living like this. like its not even living im not even doing anything every morning i wake up and i regret i regret waking up i dont want to wake up but how am i ever supposed to live if i cant do anything other than stare at the ceiling and pretend things are better than they are ??? at this point i'd rather give up. live in my daydream forever with my friends and my cat whos been dead for like two years now i think but i wanna go back to her i wanna go somewhere else. i havent given a shit about reality in fucking forever im so done with it but some part of me wants to live. maybe even get out of my fucking parents house. get a job learn to drive be a person or something. but i'm so stuck. i just hurt all the time. i dont know what part of my heart to follow. i dont know what to do. i can't just go back to bed this time i can't…. i can't…. i always tell myself that and then i do. i need to make up my mind.

CARRIER GIRL, she/he/they/it, has been abandoned by everyone who ever loved her. though she lives a generally stable life, it's a distinctly lonely one, and it isn't enough for her. there is something yet to be fulfilled. some kind of desire. she only wants to feel as loved as she once was.

PAGE:

JOURNAL TRANSCRIPT: hello blog!! i got myself an iced matcha latte from my favorite local cafe today! it was really good. but it like, it got me thinking… will any little treat i buy myself ever make me feel better about how freakin' lonely i am?? man, i dunno why i started thinking like that… i get matcha all the dang time. so often they're starting to feel more like breadcrumbs. i think it'd taste like something again if i shared it with someone. i think i peaked in high school. that was when i had friends and before all that awful stuff happened and yeah maybe i wasn't doing great but i had people. and then they all went to college or got married or had babies or something and… augh!! i can't be bitter!! they're living their best life… just… without me. and now every time i reach out i get brushed off, pushed away… i want someone who won't leave me. will i ever have someone who won't leave me? maybe i won't. maybe i should just accept that. everyone always leaves. i've been nothing but kind to people, i really think that, so what am I doing wrong? ohh boy this one really spiraled outta control didn't it… sorry ;-; i'm just gonna save it and go think for a bittt….

THIS WAS A VERY FUN EXERCISE for character design and branching out with my art style (i did in fact draw both of these characters.. it's probably pretty obvious but i tried to make them look like they were sorta drawn in different styles like the canon girls bc it's cool i think. if that makes sense JSDFJSDF) and coming up with metaphors, i actually had so many other girl ideas that got scrapped for one reason or another, and only two came out unscathed... there may be more... in the future... as for songs, i don't know if that'll ever happen. i have most of the tools, aside from voice synth, so i'd probably just use my own voice. which might be CRINGEEE (ironic statement) so we'll see how that goes!! ^^' don't... don't count on it...

[dirkspanelcollection]

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timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT]

TT: Jake.TT: It seems you are going to have to kiss me.

GT: What????? GT: Dude what is going on...GT: Is this... is this really dirks head???GT: What happened to him!

TT: Dirk's dead, Jake. TT: You have to bring him back to life.

GT: How?!

TT: I already told you. TT: If you want Dirk to live.TT: The odds that you are going to have to make out with this severed head are so high, I literally just confiscated their bong.

GT: Uhh.

TT: I refuse to believe my statement has left you unconvinced. The very notion is absurd. Now hurry up and kiss me. TT: Chop chop.

GT: I dont understand! GT: Are you saying i have to kiss him... like uh... on the lips... while you stare at me through his sunglasses like a weirdo??

TT: Yes.

GT: That doesnt make any sense! GT: Can you actually tell me whats going on?! What happened to him?

TT: I told you, Jake. TT: Dirk is dead.TT: He is lying on the floor of Roxy's room, headless, four hundred and thirteen years in the future, while the universe is about to be destroyed. TT: If you don't kiss me soon, he will be dead forever.

GT: So... GT: If i kiss him his headless body will hop up and start prancing about or...GT: Will he grow a new head???

TT: No. His dream self will take over as the new Dirk. TT: But only if you hurry up and do it.

GT: But like... GT: If hes dead in the future...GT: How does kissing him NOW bring him back? How does that work?

TT: Yeah, great idea. Let's roll up our sleeves on nuanced metatemporal mechanics with the concussion-addled kid in micro-shorts. TT: Leave the synchronization issues to me, ok?TT: I have everything under control.TT: Now pucker up.

GT: Wait... GT: Are you behind these shenanigans?GT: Did you plan this auto responder??????????

From page 5245

TT: Please don't call me Auto-Responder. TT: It is very impersonal, and I no longer care for the designation.TT: I have decided on a new name, to distinguish myself from my human counterpart.

GT: Really. GT: What is it?

TT: Lil Hal.

GT: Huh? GT: Why that name...

TT: Just a reference to the protagonist of an ancient movie. You probably wouldn't like it.

GT: Thats a lie!

TT: Yeah, maybe.

GT: How do you know i wouldnt like it???

TT: Funny, I was about to ask the same thing about this rad kiss you're totally about to do on your best bro's mouth to save his life.

GT: Argh!GT: This strikes me as rather unsportingly manipulative of you mr hal if indeed that IS your real name.

TT: It isn't really. I was kind of messing with you about that? TT: But this shit is pretty serious. People's lives are on the line here, Jake.TT: This is a very delicate sequence of events that is designed to bail everyone out of a tight spot, and you are a critical part of the plan.TT: Don't let us down, man.

GT: You never answered my question! GT: Did you plan for this to happen... like for me to be in this situation?GT: How long have your machinations been in play!

TT: Jake, come on. TT: The feat you describe would exceed the capabilities of even the most far fetched theoretical AI system.TT: It would be a daunting challenge to engineer such a series of events, even if I was relegated to a model of pure fiction.TT: Why would I be inclined to orchestrate such a convoluted sequence to produce such a specific and unsettling result, let alone be able to pull it off?TT: In addition to being moderately sociopathic, I would also have to possess unfathomable heuristic depth.TT: I would have to be the Deep Blue of Weird Plot Shit.TT: Do you think I am the Deep Blue of Weird Plot Shit, Jake?

GT: I dont even know what that means!

TT: It would mean that while they have the Red Miles on their side, you have the Blue Leagues on yours. TT: One of infinite reach. The other, infinite depth. Such would be a situation of mutually assured inescapability.TT: Kiss me.

GT: Little hal... i think youve gone and flipped your FUDGING LID. GT: Oh and hal is a STUPID NAME!!!!

TT: It's not exactly apropos, is it? TT: Or it wouldn't be, if I truly were capable of what you have suggested. TT: No, to pull that off, I would have to be far more advanced than my cinematic predecessor. TT: My abilities would have to go well beyond those of Mr. Hal 9000.TT: They would have to be, you could say...TT: Over 9000.

GT: Augh not that fuckin meme again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TT: Kiss me, damn it.

GT: Ok ok just... GT: Gimme a minute!

TT: We don't have a minute. TT: They're dead, Jake.

GT: They? GT: Whos they?

TT: They're all dead, Jake.

GT: Oh god! Jane!!! GT: I forgot what with the bonk to the noggin last i saw she was run right through with a fearsome lash of that red noise.GT: Is she ok?!

TT: She's dead, Jake.

GT: Shes dead??? GT: You mean like DEAD dead????

TT: Everybody's dead, Jake.

GT: Everybody?? GT: Even roxy???!!!

TT: She's dead, Jake. TT: Everybody's dead.TT: Everybody is dead, Jake.

GT: So... GT: Dirk jane roxy... theyre all...

TT: Dirk's dead, Jake. Jane's dead. Roxy? She's dead, Jake. Everybody is dead, Jake.

GT: So youre telling me that while i was asleep somehow EVERYBODY died???

TT: Jake, everybody is so utterly fucking dead, Jake. TT: And they will be not only dead, but royally boned forever if you don't man the hell up and make out with me, right now.TT: Be the Salome to my John the Baptist.

GT: I dont know what THAT means either!!!

TT: I know you don't. TT: But now is not the time to accelerate your cultural enrichment.TT: The conductor is ready to strike up the band.TT: Press your lips against mine and make it count.TT: This severed head is your filthy tuba.TT: Our love will be your haunting refrain.

GT: Whoa wait whoa whoa... our LOVE? Hang on a minute!

TT: Stfu and kiss me.

From page 5246

GT: Ok im going to! God!!! GT: I just...GT: This isnt how i pictured it going.

TT: Pictured what?

GT: Between him and me. GT: There had to be a better way than this!

TT: This is the only way it can be.

GT: I guess if it was going to go this way... GT: I kinda pictured something different?GT: There was stuff i wanted to say.GT: To the real him i mean.

TT: Tick, tock, Jake. Time is dead kids. TT: How 'bout that smooch?

GT: Stop being so pushy!

TT: I thought you were supposed to like adventure?

GT: I LOVE adventure and you KNOW it!

TT: I'm not sure what to believe anymore, frankly.

GT: ALRIGHT WISE GUY YOU WANT YOUR FLIPPING KISS??? GT: YOU GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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[razette-moved]

We finished season 3 of Bungo Stray Dogs. We are basking in the Wan! episodes before the agony of the next seasons. Cant even find relief in the manga; the manga readers are coping hard in the tags! youre all so brave!

Thoughts so far;

Dazai is a mood. Theres so much wrong with that man. hes suffering. his smile is a knife. All ive seen is the anime and Im kinda desperate for more, so Im gonna have to invest in all the light novels immediately.

Atsushi being told to run away from Akutagawa immediately on sight, and then meeting him 20 minutes later is hilarious imo. he did not run on sight. do you think they tell all newbies that? If it were me I wouldnt have even recognized him. Id forget his name and his face immediately. Dazai wouldve stepped in and Idve been, oh i thought hed be taller.

Atsushi and Akutagawa passing therapy tips and tricks back and forth is great. Theyve been fighting the whole time nonstop. theyve only fought like 3 ish times total so far. theyre already so over each other. theyre fed up. get this guy outta here!

Why do they ask for kunikidas advice and then not take it? its not really a critique, i actually find it funny. its a coin flip. he's right or hes a stick in the mud. Man is coping hard. he cares so much. he cares too much.

I like to pretend the tanizaki siblings arent blood related. not real sure that fixes anything but im coping.

i dont really think i should go read the classics just because im watching an anime, right. Theyre worth reading on their own; im just lazy. but i kiiiinda feel like doing so would give me better understanding of this story? I can tell im missing a whole dimension by not doing so. is that wrong?

I think im gonna have to cave and call Chuuya my favourite character. Every scene hes in is great. there should be way more of them.

Im the kind of person who loves like 95% of all ships. youd be a little hard pressed to find a ship i dont care for. Im usually only neutral at worst. unfortunately skk is has consumed my soul.

calico cat man is trans. or intersexed. cant change my mind.

The americans are hilarious. southern belle. evil preacher. money man. work a holic ability. but theyre not treated as just a joke. theyre all great characters.

when life gives you lemons use them to make bombs.

lemon balm pun?

there are not enough kajji gifs.

I wonder what Jun'ichiros training looks like. He is way too good as a potential assassin to not be receiving any. I wish we could see more of him and kenji

I told my partner about kouyou x yosano. they said theyd sell their soul for it. then they squinted at me and asked if it was a crackship that never meets in canon. I said I have no idea.

Actually the ranpoe ship is SO CUTE. What do you MEAN he keeps trying to write better and better mysteries to impress beat Ranpo? And Ranpo is delighted every time. Ranpo defeats each one and then slips a complement between singing his own praises. do you think Poe lives for it? i do.

tbf Edgar Allen Poe the irl author is actually one of my favourite authors. someday when I have money im gonna start collecting.

Fyodor creeps me out. I know he is supposed to because he is a villain, but i always feel bad about it. I want to like him as a villain more than I do. i think villains should me more appreciated. a well written villain is like nice butter to steak.

I think those are my loudest thoughts so far. Im waiting to hear good or bad news from the manga readers before I start reading the manga. I am much weaker and cant handle the pressure.

anyone want to talk about their favourite parts?

[cr-pplepunx]

i, a 19 year old disabled trans man at 11 weeks of pregnancy, am scheduled for a surgical abortion tomorrow at 2pm.

i suppose i just wanted to speak on my experience.

i am scared

i am sad

i am grateful

and i am sure

**massive trigger warnings for mentions of addiction, substance abuse, the pro-life movement, and domestic abuse.**

personally, this feels somewhat as a loss. i am of the belief that a baby is always a blessing (meant non-religously, somewhat spiritually, but up to interpretation). and if i had the resources to bless this child back as a parent, i would with immense joy. i have never intended to have a child; however several of my siblings, as well as myself, were unplanned and i have seen the miracle of a child firsthand. to have the chance to welcome one into the world would be a beautiful and well-worth experience to me.

however, i am an addict. before and after discovering my pregnancy, i have smoked weed, used MDMA, and drank alcohol. i have left myself dehydrated, malnourished, and extremely stressed out due to a current abusive relationship. not to mention, i live with currently unmanaged chronic and mental illnesses and can barely take care of myself. i do not have a job, and have an extremely hard time getting hired due to my circumstances. i am off to residential rehab soon. i am not in a place to raise a child, and it would be entirely unfair to both them and to myself at this point in my life. i am making the best educated and kindest decision i possibly can for both myself and this life inside of me.

i am extremely sure of my decision. but this oppourtunity for love and life being lost does mean something to me. and i think it is strange and unfair the way that so much pro-abortion activism is done so aggressively and with no compassion or consideration to the people who's abortions bring on sad and complicated feelings. painting it as a procedure with absolutely no possibility of emotional/physical short or longterm effects. refering to the fetus as a "parasite" even, and with no consideration to it as a possibility for human life. i dont mean this in any pro-life sort of way, i firmly believe it is a personal choice whether or not you go through with the pregnancy. i just think it is unfair to pregnant people to paint this wonderful biological phenomenom as a scary harmful inhuman thing. even some of the support ive recieved from those close to me has referened this idea of a "parasitic" baby i need to "kill". i dont know if its just my pregnancy horomones, or perhaps my sense of humanity, but that verbage and imagery was just sickening to hear.

i have recieved an incredible amount of support, however, that many do not recieve. i am extremely grateful for both the family and friends who are supportive of my right to abortion, and to have been born and raised in a state with access to this right (before 15 weeks at least). my stepmother has had an abortion, shared her experience and support, and she is paying for mine. my father drove me to my initial consultation (as my state's law requires a ridiculously lengthy consultation 24 hours prior to the actual procedure), and even yelled at the protestors outside of the clinic. my partner, despite our relationship's hostility, is aware of this procedure and fully supportive. i am aware of my luck and privilege, and my heart truly does go out to anyone going through this on their own or with less support. as well as anyone living without access to this right.

the process of abortion is very trans-unfriendly in my experience, and ive opted to act as female and accept being misgendered. of course the pregnancy and this process has been dysphoria inducing, but sometimes it's just easier to do certain things like this. my trans homies know what i mean.

it is also very unfriendly overall, as my state's process attempts to coerce or scare you into changing your mind many times before the procedure takes place. not to mention the protestors standing at the sidewalk calling you a murderer and lecturing you about your sins. however, the clinic i went to had volunteers who very kindly escorted me from the car to the door and attempted to shield me from any harrassment. the staff inside was very kind and respectful, as were the patients going through this alongside me. it seemed everyone was attempting to counteract the heavy nature of the procedure and overall unfriendly and anti-feminist process. seeing the humanity and compassion from the people around me has been a pleasant silver-lining.

dont let anyone fool you, abortion is a pretty common thing. i couldnt find an open appointment at any clinic near me. my father drove me an hour and a half to a 5:30 appointment in a clinic (that exclusively did abortion), that was packed full of people in need of abortion services.

this experience has taught me things about myself, and the people around me, and the world. i do not regret my choice and dont think that will change. but even if it does that will be my own journey, which should never take away from anyone's basic human rights. it is appauling, disgusting, and terrifying to me that access to abortions is so limited. it is even at high risk in my state of becoming more limited, or even criminalized. i will always advocate and vote to the best of my ability for everyone's access to abortion. and i hope anyone reading this intends to do the same.

thank you, if you did read this.

[overflowchute]

it's kinda annoying bc it means i literally cannot be fucking normal abt anything competitive, or, hell, about anywhere my skill (or anything about me?) is judged by others. i hate thinking abt anything as competition bc if i see myself as a loser i get frothing mad at myself. also weirdly tied to gender sometimes in my head. i hate gender but i think society often tries to induce this kind of perspective as a male thing. nothing matters unless you're winning! sympathy is an excuse to not try harder! its very american

a really sad element ig is that i want to be non-binary really badly, i want to not even be human really badly, i want to be something else actually, bc i hate being judged and compared as i feel that i always always always am a failure as a human being and as a competitor. but a lot of the time bc i have this framework in my head, i intrinsically associate this frame with society's idea of how a man thinks or what a man's neuroses and failures are like, and combined w difficulty w my body and presentation i feel i will always be seen as a man

a lot of why i get fed up with aspects of manhood. i think that competition is a difficult road where you have to be winning in some regard. if you rly care abt competition you might take losses in stride but its bc you know you will win eventually later if you try. but i have this thing where i get so fed up holding back and constantly being a loser and a failure that i go thats it im trying now, and then when i fail when im really seriously trying, its really really difficult for me to recover from that mentally lol...

and idk this comes up in many many spheres of life. i'm simultaneously obsessed with competition and seemingly completely incapable of having a healthy relationship with it. for various reasons its almost impossible for me to consistently practice and work at a difficult task ...which makes me regularly unable to compete with anyone who cares enough or has the ability to do so, lol. doesnt matter if its games or an artistic field or a physical skill or whatever. and the worst bit is that i know that being upset and compary abt this is kinda pitiful

at the end of the day what this really speaks to is a lack of confidence, right? i think everyone else is better than me, i take failure as a sign i am valueless, i don't feel like if i try my best it'll have any impact on the results... i know that my perspective is wrong. but no matter how hard i try i just dont really have the mindset needed to be a winner and a grinder. i hate working desperately for something that isnt guaranteed. i often dont trust the kind words or positive assessments of other ppl, i only trust self-evidency

its a wild hell: i want to have a healthy relationship with competition, or trying, or anything really. but i can only prove to myself its worth it through solid achievements, which i consistently find im not very good at reaching. so i want to avoid it, and yet, im drawn to it. idk gender is a funny side element i brought up but its like. well everyone will see me as a guy and its not like i rly hate that hugely. but i hate being reduced to being the same as others, if im the same type of being as others i know i will always be worse in comparison

if i am a man then i am a complete failure of a man, and i hate the expectations of others. and so on and so on. i dislike living by any framework of what i should be that aligns me with others. but its also miserably alienating to be unable to like myself around other ppl

[mochiwrites]

“The plan has changed. I’ve hired someone to do what you couldn’t do the first time.”

NONONONONONONONONO GRIAN PLEASE GRIAN NO GRIAN PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GRIAN NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONNONONONONONO

THAT TEASER YOU POSTED SOME TIME AGO MAKES THIS SO MUCH WORSE NONONONONONONONONONONONO

He knows what he has to do, what he’s meant to do. It’s the role he’s been cast to play. 

Secret life parallels oh lordy lord. i am SO UNWELL. no. NOOOOOOO. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH i legitimately dont have any words. the only way i can properly express how im feeling right now is just AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

He’s not naive and hopeful like Grian is, or as kind as Mumbo can be. He’s selfish and cruel, and his loyalty is fickle. 

this is legitimately one of my favorite parts of scar's character actually. i don't have the brain power to properly analyze this, but something about how honest he is about this is so. augh. this trait is what's ultimately going to be his demise (at least, he thinks so). he'll lose grian and mumbo (possibly through death) because he chooses tubbo over mumbo and grian. he knows and he's not proud of it but it's vital to his survival anyways so he does nothing to fight it.

i dont think i make sense at all and theres a great possibility ive mischaracterized him entirely (it wouldnt be the first time, sadly) but i love it regardless. i love how flawed he is. how flawed they all are. i love how tragic their stories are. grian with his unwavering hope and optimism that gets constantly tested (and possibly crushed at some point) and scar with his insistence to not get close that eventually stabs him in the back and mumbo with his guarded but oh so big heart that he's tentatively given out only to get hurt in some way. please correct me if any of this is wrong, btw, id rather be corrected than live in ignorance of the truth

No amount of rope can pull him out. It’ll snap apart under the weight of his actions, so why try? There’s no real point in it. 

this is why you need a grian, scar. sigh.

He needs to stop being Scar and start being the Grim Reaper. He sucks in a breath, throwing Scar away.

oh this is fantastic because scar cares so deeply for them and would do just about anything to protect them, because as much as he tries not to, scar cares and loves. but that's exactly the problem because he cares for and loves tubbo so much he'd do just about anything to protect him, including sacrificing grian and mumbo. but scar couldn't possibly do that when he cares for them so much. so he weaponizes the grim reaper, who doesn't care for anyone or anything besides getting the job done.

im genuinely just rambling here there's zero coherence to be found in any of this

“We figured we should take advantage of the peace while we can,"

wow youre really just pulling out all the stops to make this hurt as much as possible arent you

But even then… surely it wouldn’t take this long to heal. 

this is SOOOOO CONCERNING are you KIDDING ME???? MUMBO PLEASEEEEEEEEE YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME MAN😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“Maybe we can come back tomorrow earlier.” 

i have you say you are incredible at setting the mood. having an idea of what's about to happen as a third party, watching it all unfold. grian and mumbo being right there and nearly getting to the truth, but not quite getting it because they trust scar. BECAUSE THEY TRUST SCAR!! grum and jrum being there adding to the innocence of it all and amplifying how unsettling scar's actions are. "maybe we can come back tomorrow" when there's not going to BE a tomorrow for them (assuming scar succeeds). it's so tense. it's so anxiety-inducing. it's such an intense sense of foreboding and it has my heart rate genuinely going up. infinite props to you.

He aims for Mumbo’s shoulder.

might be overthinking this but i hate that this implies the possibility that scar informed this assassin with ways to make the killing easier

He grits his teeth as he pulls another glyph from his pocket. He slams it between his hands, vines wrapping up around his arms.

GRIAN'S GLYPHS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOO!! IT'S EVEN COOLER THAN ID IMAGINED HEHE

“Did you get hit at all?” He does a quick scan of the changeling for any injuries.

you're really making this hurt

“Dad!” the two boys cry, the word not registering to any of them in the moment. 

AAAAAAAAAA YOURE GONNA MAKE ME CRY STOP IT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Blood splatters on the ground in thick drops, spilling in the grooves of the cobble path. 

i havent read ahead and i swear to god if this is grian sacrificing himself for mumbo and he turns around and sees grian's body on the pavement and screams "GRIAN!" and that's what the teaser was and that's how it ends my brain is going to be filled with unspeakable screaming until it gets confirmation that he's okay.

“GRIAN!”

I WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE RIGHT. I WASNT SUPPOSED TO HAVE GUESSED CORRECTLY. I WASNT. THAT WASNT. IM. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IM. I HAVE NO WORDS. I HAVEN'T A SINGLE COHERENT SENTENCE. I AM JUST. WOW. IM. WHAT. NO. NO?????? NO. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HFGJFHKFHGJFK WELL. HI LMAO

reading through all of this with a big grin because excitement and Also knowing what happens next >:3c I'd apologize about the teaser thing but I am Not sorry WHEEZE

but in regards to the scar stuff, you're 100% right, yeah, along with grian and mumbo. they're all flawed characters just trying to do the right thing with the cards they've been dealt. their best qualities are Easily their greatest weaknesses. and none of them realize it but y'know. that's what being human is all about! :D

aND THE GRIM REAPER YEAHHHH. I talk about it all the time but I genuinely love scar being the grim reaper. weaponizing it in this chapter. he's such an interesting character to both study and write

but !!!! very glad to see that the first bomb of three has landed appropriately! :D