#i love doing manual things I've really wanted to do more of this for a long time and now i have and its so good

[callmearcturus]

dottie lasso is the final boss of the show (and ted loses)

someone commented on my ted-is-a-feminine-junior-too post about recognizing dottie lasso and what she did, and i'm a Johnny-come-lately to this fandom so i missed all the discourse

but surely it's been discussed to death that Dottie Lasso is the Final Boss of Ted's life, right? like, she shows up on that bench and you should feel the opening of "MEGALOVANIA" in your soul because she's the villain of the story.

honestly, in Ted Lasso, the main villains are: Rupert Mannion, Twitter, Rupert Mannion again, cisnormativity/heteronormativity, and Dottie Lasso, kind of in that order IMO.

"Mom City" is kind of a genius episode with its thesis and punchline. Because Dottie shows up and derails Ted's entire life and not in a good way. She makes him palpably uncomfortable and all of his usual kindness and interest is just turned off around her.

This episode isn't shy about reminding the audience that Richmond has become Ted's home. From the most fish outta water who nearly gets killed looking the wrong way crossing the street, Ted knows his neighbors, knows the culture here, and is defensive with that knowledge because it's been hard-won over time.

No but really, look at how UNCOMFORTABLE Ted is EVERY MINUTE of this episode. It's so stark bc this charm offensive Dottie's doing on everyone at Richmond is so clearly a Lasso Thing. This is the exact tactic Ted used when he was new in town and completely at sea.

(fuck this got long, there's a lot more under the jump)

But he isn't charmed or permissive or entertained, he never once Yes, Ands what Dottie says. In fact, he corrects her all the time.

jesus fuck look at this specific moment!!!

who the fuck are you and where is ted

because Dottie being here is a nightmare. she's the person who knows the Ted Lasso Source Code and the way she maneuvers and nudges him, he seems helpless against it. So he continuously separates himself from her in what feels to me like a fearful reaction.

Like, when Dottie explains where she's staying, she does this trick

DOTTIE: An adorable little hostel. I've met so many Australians. They are backpacking through Europe. So much sex. TED: Mom. DOTTIE: Not me, the Australians. TED: No, no, I get it, okay. How about you stay here for the rest of your trip, all right? DOTTIE: Only if I'm not a hassle.

This is such a fucking move, you realize? She has been in London a fucking WEEK without telling him, then as soon as she tells him where she's staying, she, a midwestern mom to her open-minded but very romantically private son, invokes sex so he'll be uncomfortable with the situation and invite her to stay. This is a chess move they should call the Wichita Shuffle.

And Ted absolutely hates the way Dottie lies about him. The connection is pretty straightforward; Dottie deals with her trauma and pain by covering them up with pretty little lies and melting truths until they fit the shape she wants them to be in. Everything she says in this episode is bullshit.

(points up) THIS INCLUDED, BTW. This is the Ted that Dottie wants him to be, the guy who will fall on his sword at the first sign of someone else's discomfort.

But that isn't who Ted is anymore and Dottie saying this is vicious and cruel. It's disrespectful to Rebecca, to everyone at Richmond, and to the work Ted's done with Sharon.

which oooooooooh

hey, anyone else remember Ted's "I love meeting people's moms, it's like an instruction manual on why they're nuts" from S2? boy that's a brick joke

and this bit of dottie saying her anxiety re: ted's therapy out loud, that hissing sound is a fuse being lit in this moment

Ted calls her out directly. He knows how she operates because she raised him in her own image. As I noted in the other post, Leslie Higgins is not the only feminine junior at Richmond, so is Theodore Lasso, son of Dorothy Lasso.

THAT FUCKING DARK CHUCKLE, THE "YEAH OKAY" MOMENT this is the fuse finally reaching the dynamite

this is the moment, this moment of push-back, implicitly the first time Ted's ever pushed back in his life

this is the moment Dottie takes every single thing she knows about Ted, everything she put into him, and she destroys his fucking life with the exact four words it would take to make Ted give up everything he's worked for, all so he'll go back to being what she expects from him.

and hell if he doesn't know it.

everything he's done for himself, all the space he's finally allowed himself to fill, the progress and labor he's put into becoming a better person

mom shows up and tells him no, you're coming back.

(and the fact Dottie Lasso, a character who has not said five truthful things this entire episode, tells us how someone else feels should be questioned very fucking directly. i don't trust this woman to honestly report on Henry's opinion of peanut butter and jelly, let alone if he wants his father to give up his life and return to Kansas. i know every single fic has brought up the question of "hey why doesn't anyone ask Henry what he wants" but that's because SOMEONE needs to ask the question instead of taking Dorothy fucking Lasso's word for it, christ)

I don't know how tf you don't read this show as a tragedy. Dottie Lasso is incredible, she's so pitch-perfectly written and acted, and she's absolutely the final boss of the show. And Ted doesn't win that fight.

hell THE SHOW SAYS THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD, i would put the screencap here but I've run out of images, but THEY FUCK YOU UP, YOUR MUM AND DAD, THE SHOW SAYS IT this is a fantastic tragedy, i love it

[kociakarma]

Hiii I really love your art and was wondering if you wouldnt mind showing what kind of brushes you use for your recent drawings thank you so much and i look forward to your future arts!

Of course! I've answered this a few times before but have never really tagged it properly, and I also realised that I've never actually explained what I use each brush for so I'll do that now!:

I'm gonna go through each of these brushes in order (and if i remember correctly, I'll link the top two since they arent default CSP brushes). (NOTE: almost all of these brushes have anti-aliasing turned off so that it can look more crispy and pixely!!! there is one exception to this that I will get into)

For this brush, I exclusively use it for sketching, it's advertised for inking digital manga panels, but with how the pen pressure is I feel like it adds form to my sketches

This brush, Sleuth-y Pen, is what I use mostly for MSPFA panels, mostly for lining, but sometimes for sketching too if I'm having a hard time with my usual sketching pen. It's really good if you want to replicate the homestuck style, and good for broad strokes on smaller canvases. The only issue is that the brush isn't great for that style if you use it on a larger canvas (ideally you would want 650 x 450) and can be especially messy if you're trying to get smaller details, such as open mouths, and certain facial details. I use another brush for that, which I will get into soon.

My second use for the sleuthy pen is for lineart on larger canvases in my usual artstyle! It has a texture to it that I like, as I like having my art appear a little rough around the edges, and the issue regarding small details isn't nearly as prominent of a problem

Almost done! Now we have the G-pen, a default CSP brush! This used to be one of my top 2 pens, along with its counterpart "Real G-pen" but nowadays I use it for two things: clean-up during rendering (usually getting those smaller details done that the sleuthy pen has difficulty with) and for doing SOME MSPFA panels (Vast Error, for example)

As you can see here, Liaaam's face is a little smoother than the rest of him, that's because I use the G-pen for those details, to keep things a lot cleaner! As for my other use, Vast Error's style from my understanding is a lot more "smooth" and "clean" which is why I exclusively use the G-pen for it, you can also make a lot of thick, juicy brush strokes with it which I feel works really well for the hair and folds in the clothes!

Finally, the Real G-pen, another default. This one is very similar to the last, its only differences are that it's slightly sharper and ever so slightly more messy. It's almost like a medium between the sleuth-y pen, and the g-pen.

I'll be honest, I don't use this pen much anymore, BUT, I still consistently use it for one thing and one thing only: Friendsim sprites. If you want to make friendsim sprites I highly suggest this pen, and making sure it's set to "weak" antialiasing. If you want to go the extra mile, I like to use a lasso-fill tool to block out shadows in all of my art, although if I'm using a rougher brush I'll usually do that manually. There's also other brushes I've been using more for rendering full pieces, such as a "rake brush" and a "design pencil" with low pressure to get details like blush down without making it too intense. That's basically it! I'll link the brushes below if I can find them: sleuth-y pen textured pen rake brush

[rust-official]

This time round trying emacs is different because I'm using doom (at the brilliant recommendation of one of my partners, mentioned above), which is kind of like one of the neovim distributions but for emacs. Good defaults that match what a 25 year vim veteran wants, enough customizability to fit to what I need. Like any massively complex piece of software, it's taken a lot of getting used to, and there's always more to learn. The doom docs say that learning emacs is an adventure, and I agree.

org mode is cool! There are some plugins that simulate it in (neo)vim of course, but nothing really manages to match org. The more I learn about org, the more I love it--it is always the marquee feature which gets me playing with emacs every time I've wanted to try it. Of course, the most basic features for outlining are state of the art, even among commercial outliners like omnioutliner, everyone knows that. But it also supports cool things like tables with integrated calculator support and exports to every format you can think of and and and. org's manual is hundreds of pages and it can do so, so much. And it's just one package!

Continuing from the above, neovim can't have a plugin that does everything org mode does, for a variety of reasons. It's too mature and has too many people working on it for a few loosely-associated plugin writers to be able to accomplish the same thing. Beyond this, even neovim just doesn't have the same extensibility that emacs does. Most of neovim is still written in C with a thin layer of lua for extensions, whereas the emacs philosophy is a small core in C and the rest in elisp--a lot like atom or, more recently, visual studio code--but using a real language, of course, and not JS.

evil mode is a far better approximation of vim than I was expecting. Just about every other vi mode falters and has bugs / missing features. I've not run into any such limitations or bugs with evil, again probably due to its popularity compared to the vi modes in those other tools, which are often an afterthought (or just removed / dropped entirely, like in the new repl for python 3.13).

The emacs philosophy is as it was 30 years ago when I first tried learning it: it still expects you to open the editor when logging in and never close it. As such it has better tools for managing lots of open buffers (I particularly like ibuffer, it mostly approximates vim's bufexplorer plugin, but it's missing a few things from vim or I don't know about them yet; will be looking at the manual).

There's seemingly a package for everything, and often a few different ones for the same thing. The "emacs is my operating system" mantra makes a lot of sense when viewed from this angle. Lots of things have good documentation, too, and of course, as I said above, so much more is possible in emacs than neovim.

doom's out of the box LSP support seems nicer than neovim's. I'm sure I could get similar results with configuring neovim, perhaps with more plugins or config, but things just feel more robust right from the start. I still need more time to evaluate this, as I've spent the least amount of time editing code. Mostly I've been focusing on editing documents with org mode and the occasional dabbling with magit for doing git stuff. magit is quite nice and very mature; I know it'll work quite well for managing code repos once I'm more comfortable with emacs as a code editor. I have lots of custom keybindings for neovim's LSP support that I'll need to relearn if I want to use emacs as my code editor.

One criticism I do have is that none of the emacs terminal emulators I've tried work well with vi keybindings in my shell; when I press esc to enter normal mode in the shell, the buffer for the terminal emulator goes into evil's normal mode. There may be a way to fix it, but I've not looked into it yet.

Am I going to switch? I don't know. I'm giving it an honest try, a more honest try than I have in the past, and having someone to ask questions is proving absolutely critical. I can't answer this question right now. Maybe? I cannot say how helpful evil has been with this. Modal editing is how my brain works and I don't think I'd be able to learn non-modal editing.

Given how @neovim-official hates me (see here) I have started learning @emacs-unofficial , using @doom-official and hence @emacs-evil-mode.

(this is not entirely a shitpost, one of my partners has been showing me around, largely for org mode but I've always been curious. Back when I got my start with Unix/Linux in the late 90s on a shell provider, emacs was the first editor I tried, but it was so slow to start back then that I switched to vim. How things would've been different for me if computers were faster when I started!)

[spearxwind]

Honestly i Get It now i do get why people build things constantly

[not-a-space-alien]

I've seen a lot of "You have to communicate directly/don't expect other people to read your mind" posts going around tumblr lately and while I really do appreciate them because it's a skill a LOT of people need to work on, I do want to remind everyone to please meet people halfway sometimes.

I recently read a story on Reddit about a guy's pregnant wife texting him "I'm craving donuts but we don't have any in the house 😔" and he DIDN'T stop to pick up donuts on the way home from work. Everyone was taking his side because "she needs to communicate" and "he's not a mind reader" and "How was he supposed to know she wanted him to get donuts???" People, ffs, why on earth would she text him that while he was at work if not because she wanted him to get donuts? I was flabbergasted everyone was taking his side. "How was he supposed to know??" What? Like yeah it's true she didn't say "I want you to get me donuts" with those exact words in that exact order but the reason why people get upset if they hint they want you to do something and you don't do it is because they feel like you don't care about them and aren't actively thinking about their feelings. Especially in a marriage or LTR they are in a situation where the assumption is you care about filling the other person's needs.

Someone who loves and cares about someone will get the donuts "without being asked" just because their partner expresses a want or need. That's what someone is fishing for when they say "Aaaah I'm craving donuts 🥺🥺🥺" It's less about the donuts and more about feeling cared for. Sometimes straight up asking "Can you get me donuts?" defeats the purpose.

Also, women are typically socialized to communicate this way because they're punished socially for being too direct. I've heard that people of color, especially black people, often do this too because they're likely to be branded as "aggressive" if they're too direct with white people. So it might be a good idea to be a bit intersectional if we're trying to encourage people to be more direct.

Take the stereotypical example of a wife gets a new haircut and then gets upset that the husband doesn't notice. She's not literally mad at him for not saying the exact words "I like your new haircut." She's upset because she feels like he doesn't look at her and appreciate the efforts she's putting in anymore.

Obviously this will vary widely depending on the nature of your relationship with someone, but especially when it comes to intimate partnerships, there are certain things your significant other should not have to tell you directly. It's probably safe to assume your wife or husband wants a birthday present even if they don't ask for it. It's probably safe to assume your bf or gf would appreciate a valentine's day present or a compliment without them having to literally ask for it, unless they explicitly say otherwise.

This is difficult for a lot of neurodivergent people to learn manually if it's not instinctual and they didn't learn it growing up (lord knows I didn't) and yes, it's true that most people (especially NT people) should learn to communicate more directly. But also, your relationships would probably benefit from learning to read indirect cues and just pick up the donuts on the way home because you heard your wife is craving them. Sometimes what someone wants is for you to think about what they're feeling and what they want and do it without them asking directly. It's up to you whether or not you do that, but sometimes that is asking. I think this is what people generally mean when they say their partner is "thoughtful."

[ahgasegotarmy116]

BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook One Shot | Teaser

Summary: You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new? Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (idk man 😂) Warnings: Smut and Explicit language (obvi lmao) a/n: I've been working on this for a while and I wanted to put out a teaser to see how well something like this would be received. It probably won't be going up for another two weeks or so since I'm trying to keep to a more manageable posting schedule so I hope you'll look forward to it! Feel free to comment down below if you'd like to be tagged! P.s. Ava is her best friend but it's pretty obvious lmao

Read the full one shot here!

"'How to bang your robot' sounds very informative" Ava giggles and I scoff, "That's not what it says dummy" I groan, thumbing through the manual until I find the most important piece of information, how to turn him on...well power him up so to say. The other part I guess I'll figure out later on when we're alone, although I'm sure she would love to watch.

I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how she can talk about things like sex so openly but I guess that's part of her twisted charm.

I brush some of the hay-like packaging off of him so the both of us can finally see what he looks like and my breath hitches once his face comes into view.

"I did a good job huh?" she says while elbowing me in the side, groaning when she hits the new tattoo I got on my ribcage the other day. "Oh shit I'm sorry! I forgot!" she says, apologizing but I brush it off as an accident and go back to inspecting him.

After taking more of the packaging off I finally find where his on switch is, which happens to be on his peck. "Really? I haven't even turned him on and I already have to violate him?" I say, hesitating for a second and then just rip the bandaid off so to say and lift his shirt up.

"Damn those abs are drool worthy" Ava whistles and I wack her in the arm, "You're not helping" I groan and find the plate that is covering the on switch, looking between him and her, contemplating on if I should go for it or not.

She nods her head, urging me to do it and after a second or two I give in and flip the switch quickly and fix his shirt so he's all covered up again. He might be a robot but I still think he deserves to be treated with respect.

Even if his whole purpose is to just fuck me senseless.

We both watch for a second and hear a few of the mechanisms start to move about before he takes his first breath. Well...kinda.

He opens his eyes and blinks a few times and I know for a fact that Ava hit it right on the head in her description. She knows me too well at this point if she was able to create a Mr. Right for me with a few clicks on her keyboard.

That or he's just very attractive to begin with.

He looks around for a second before turning his head towards me, our eyes locking for the first of many times and I can already feel my cheeks start to heat up. 'I'm fucked'

[sculkapologist]

I finally finished a NEW CUSTOM MAP ART!!! "Visitor," a portrait of an enderman, is extra exciting because it's my first full-palette map painting, meaning I used block height to access all the highlight and shadow colours available!! More on the full process under the cut, but the short version of what this means is:

ITS A VERY COMPLICATED CONSTRUCTION. I created the art, then planned and built this manually, without any mods or schematics for construction. Huge props again to everyone else in the server for helping me gather all the materials to make this absurd thing possible!!!

This was the original art I made for it! I'm a huge fan of the "compressed" look of the vanilla paintings, so I've been starting with a large image and shrinking it down, though there were a lot of pixel tweaks to get it to read well. After shrinking it to 16x32 (for an art made of two maps), I convert it to a limited palette that I've set up to match the colours minecraft actually has available:

The map palette is actually tremendously limited, so figuring out a painting that will still look good with that constraint is a challenge in and of itself!

Anyway, the way minecraft maps work, a block that is Taller than the block to the north of it shows up with a slightly lighter colour, and a block that is Lower than the block north of it shows up on the map with a slightly darker colour. So when making a key for this one, I marked all the squares with a little arrow if it's the lighter or darker version:

Each "pixel" here is a full stack of blocks on the mapped area: 64 blocks, 8 rows of 8. In order to achieve the affect of every block in a given pixel being taller or shorter than the block to the north of it, dark and light shades need to staircase either up or down. Because staircasing downwards in survival sounds even worse than this madness, I did some planning to make sure each of the "downwards" staircases would touch the ground, so I could simply staircase up from south to north instead. This involved figuring out how many up and down movements were in each individual column and planning out 32 little layouts:

It's worth noting that if you look up minecraft map art on Youtube, most of what you'll find is either, the simple realisation that placing blocks allows you to make custom map art, or an explanation of how to use a generator that will let you plug in any picture and then produce a schematic for you. It's very cool that these exist, but I wanted to do full palette art myself, without an auto-generated schematic, and at the time THERE JUST WEREN'T ANY TUTORIALS FOR HOW TO DO ALL THIS?? Now, having the experience of finagling all this, i think perhaps the reason is that this is a mad undertaking.

ANYWAY: PROGRESS SHOTS!!

I actually love how the staircases look..... its like some kind of modern sculpture

Fewer shots of the second half since I did it on call with friends; the last screenshot is one Thren took of me activating the new locked map to use for the gallery.

Once these paintings are done, I lock the finished maps, make copies, and stock them in the art gallery so other friends on our server can also put these paintings in their homes! It's a lot of work, but really rewarding to see my art decorating various buildings around the server. ;u;

I have one more custom full-palette painting I've done the art for and gathered all materials for; I still need to do the full key and plan staircasing for it before I can start, but HOPEFULLY if my resolve doesn't waver there'll be at least one more of these!!

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 34

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Postpartum depression; allusions to child abuse; perceived child abuse - read with care

A/N: I am so sorry it has taken me this long! The move has really done a number on my mental health and I've been struggling to write anything substantial. I've taken some serious liberties with Georgia weather. If you noticed, no you didn't. Lol I don't hate Rick. His mindset isn't the greatest at this point. We know that. Just making sure everyone is aware that I love our deputy. Post partum depression is a real thing and it sucks. This chapter has some really angsty, dark tones, and should be read with care, especially toward the end (beginning at “Oh,hey.” She greeted, patting the ground next to her). I did lots of research and sadly, what transpires is a real thing that people do for reasons that aren't necessary. Please try to give Carol and reader some grace given the circumstances. But if you're sensitive to anything dealing with making a child uncomfortable, you might want to skip this. It gets a little heavy. I would be happy to give you a summary of what is happening if you would rather skip the last few paragraphs (see above where to stop reading). Just message me.

I love you all! Thank you for your patience with me.

You weren’t sure when it happened, when the switch flipped or the dial turned. All you knew is that every single time your daughter cried, you wanted to break down and sob with her. When you held her to your breast, you couldn’t look at her. You left her with Lori or Carol more and more, the looks they gave you annoyingly understanding. When you would hand her off to Daryl and walk away, you couldn’t bear to see that expression of befuddled dismalness. 

“Postpartum depression.” Carol finally said one bitterly cold morning. She was changing Birdie with swift movements, eager to shield her from the drafty atmosphere of the warehouse. 

You had your back to her—your face in your hands—while you silently cried, two small bottles of breast milk sitting at your feet, still attached to the manual pumps. Sniffling, you glanced over your shoulder just as she placed the shifting blanketed bundle against her shoulder. “I hate my baby, Carol.” You whimpered. “That’s more than depression.”

The silver-haired lady shook her head. “Honey, I promise you don’t hate her.” 

“I don’t want anything to do with her.” You bit back with more vexation than you had intended. “I can’t stand it when she cries. I just want Daryl to keep her away from me.” When she tilted her lips with that gentle smile, it took all you had not to chuck one of the bottles at her. What was wrong with you? Could she be right? Were you depressed?

“I went through this, sweetheart. It will pass.” When she offered you little Birdie, you reeled. “You can’t keep avoiding her.” She was right and you hated it. With a huffing breath, you accepted your daughter, distributing her small weight across your arm for her head to rest in the crook of your elbow. “I have an idea.”

You heaved a sigh, not really interested in whatever it was that Carol was going to suggest. You had to stop taking your frustrations out on the woman. And Lori. And Daryl. And especially little Birdie. She was perfect and you knew in your heart of hearts that you could never truly harbor anything other than unrelenting love for her. Yes. Carol was right. You were definitely depressed. 

“What?” You finally queried. 

“What’re you two doin’ in here?” You heard Daryl’s boots crossing the concrete floor until they stopped just behind you. His lips pressed gently against the crown of your head. “Hey.” You said nothing. So much for not taking things out on your fiancé. 

“Daryl, right on time.” Carol beamed. 

“For what?” The confusion was evident in his tone.

“Y/N pumped some milk for the baby. It won’t keep unless we get more snow and can store it in the drifts.” She informed. “Why don’t you feed the baby?”

“Feed ‘er? Like with a bottle?”

“Unless you’re miraculously lactating, yes. With a bottle.” There was a hint of jocularity in her tone. You could almost feel his glare without turning. 

“I mean—yeah, okay.” Annoyance momentarily forgotten, you focused on the uncertainty in your partner’s voice. You didn’t miss the tremble. Neither did Carol. 

“You’re gonna be fine, Daryl.” She said encouragingly. 

“Ain’t me m’worried ‘bout.” The archer mumbled as he circled around you. He was hesitant in reaching for Birdie, but took her into his arms immediately when you sat up straighter and shifted her. The movement must have upset your daughter, her little limbs flailing as Daryl positioned her in the bend of his arm. “Ain’t no need for all that fussin’, lil Bird. You’re gonna get fed.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “By somebody. May not be me after I screw this up.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re better with her than you give yourself credit for.” It came out flat and harsh, your default setting as of late. Still, one look at the expression that decorated Daryl’s features, you found yourself ashamed. “You’re a great father.” You added, softer and with sincerity. 

Daryl held your gaze and, for a moment,—for the first time in a long time—it was uncomfortable. When he nodded and turned to Carol, you were able to exhale, though your stomach remained in knots. 

“Gimme the thing, I guess.” He held out a hand and looked down at his daughter, her little face reddening. Her mouth opened with the slightest squeak. She was two seconds from shrieking. “Keep your diaper on, lil’ girl. It’s comin’.” Daryl gingerly bounced his arm, Birdie’s features smoothing out for a moment, just long enough for Carol to hand over the bottle. 

You found yourself leaning forward, biting your lip as if ready to spring into applause when he accomplished the “impossible” task. When you caught his gaze, both of you looking up at the same time, you sat back and cleared your throat. When had things become so awkward between the two of you? It was almost unbearable. 

“Tilt her up just a little.” Carol instructed. “Touch the nipple to her lip, she’ll—there you go.”

You heard the soft snort of Daryl’s laugh and let your eyes travel from Birdie—now happily suckling away at the bottle—to your fiance. His eyes were soft but excited, sparkling in a way you’d never before seen. His lips were tilted upward, only the slightest fraction. Smiling suited him. You wished he’d do it more often. 

“Told ya that ya wasn’t gonna starve. Slow down. Ain’t no one gonna take it away.” He babbled, scrunching his nose with that smile still adorned. Was he even aware that he was lowering himself to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of you? You didn’t think so. At that moment, no one else existed to him; just a father and his little bird. 

You only felt the smile on your own face when you looked over to find Carol watching not Daryl and Birdie but you. With a soft, knowing expression, she mouthed see? And see, you did. You nodded, tears stinging behind your eyes. The room was silent aside from Birdie’s gulps and breaths and squeaks, and for moment, you thought:

Everything’s gonna be just fine.

If only you knew just how wrong you were.

“We can’t have her crying like this!” Rick was swiping a hand roughly over his tired face, looking haggard. Things between him and Lori were not improving. They seemed to only be worsening. Even Daryl had called out the deputy’s behavior once or twice in the last two weeks. The archer was currently glaring daggers while he rubbed a fingerless-gloved hand over Birdie’s back through the sling that held her to your chest. 

The loss of the warehouse had been tough on everyone, but you and your baby were affected the most. Your mood swings were only growing worse, though less and less toward the little one in your arms and more toward the adults that were only trying to help you. In turn, Birdie remained in a constant state of inconsolable. Hershel had thrown around words like colic and had Daryl dosing out gas drops to the little one but nothing seemed to soothe her.

The cars had run out of gas, as well as Daryl’s bike. The archer had pushed the motorcycle along for a time before he declared that he couldn’t protect Birdie if he was too busy hauling a damn bike. He had hidden it under some brush, easy to be tracked back to later. It was Merle’s bike and you knew what it meant to him. However, Birdie meant more. Much, much more and he would crawl into hell and back for the little girl strapped to your front.

“She’s a baby, man. How else she s’posed to let us know she’s needin’ something?” Daryl snapped, his voice intentionally higher to be heard over your daughter’s cries. 

“Daryl, you know this isn’t safe! She’s gonna bring every walker for miles down on us!” Rick threw out an arm, gesturing broadly. “Or—or the living! You saw what they would do!”

“Ain’t much we can do! She ain’t hungry! She ain’t needin’ changed! She’s just pissed off an’ I ain’t far away from bein’ right there with ‘er!”

“Boys.” Lori admonished, squeezing your shoulder. When had you started to tremble? “All this negative energy isn’t helping.”

“She’s right.” Hershel agreed, adjusting his gloves. “Babies are incredibly intuitive.”

“We just need to find fuel—cars.” Rick sniffed, hands on his hips. “We’re sitting ducks like this.” His eyes met Daryl’s in a heated challenge.

After an intense staredown, it was surprisingly Daryl who backed down first but not without a menacing growl. Turning to place his body between you and Rick, he brushed his bare fingertips over Birdie’s hooded head and then across your jaw. “Y’want me to take ‘er for a bit?”

You shook your head even as the temptation beckoned you to acquiesce. “I don’t think jostling her would help right now.” A single tear trailed down your cheek. As much as it pained you to admit, Rick was right, but how could you coax your baby to stop her noises of discomfort when you had no idea what was ailing her? Daryl used his thumb to swipe away the moisture, his expression equal parts distress and sadness. He clearly felt as helpless as you did.

“S’take a break.” He said suddenly, ushering you to a nearby log. Lori was immediately lowering herself beside you with a great deal of difficulty given her round belly. You could sympathize with her struggle, having been there not so long ago yourself. Her hand came to rest on the back of your head with loving strokes meant to soothe your nerves.

“I think that’s a great idea.” She agreed, offering you a gentle smile when you searched out her gaze. After a moment, you nodded and began to remove Birdie from her sling. Carol appeared with an extra blanket to cover you and shield the baby from the cold as you tried to nurse her. Daryl was hovering, shifting from foot to foot with his fingers digging into the strap of his crossbow. As much as you loved the man, his nervous energy wasn’t helping things in the slightest. 

“Why don’t you go hunting?” You suggested, reveling in the relief when Birdie quickly latched and her wailing ceased. Her little hiccups around enthusiastic gulps remained heartbreaking. The past few days had seen you begin to settle though the fraying of your nerves lingered. At least you were now aware of how much you loved your daughter and that you wouldn’t change a single moment that brought her barreling into your life. 

Daryl quickly shook his head in refusal, his already white-knuckled grip on that strap growing impossibly tighter. “Can’t leave ya here like this.”

You bit back the urge to yell at him, make the demand that he go. He meant well. “Please?” He wrestled with indecision, his expression damn near crumbling before he skillfully schooled it with a sigh.

“Fine.” He huffed at the same time that he took a single step toward you. He seemed to think better of it and turned on a heel while stripping his weapon from his back. “Be back in a hour an’ we can move on.” You knew as well as he did that there was little to no game to satisfy the group’s hunger. He was only trying to placate you. The two of you needed time alone, needed to talk and work through the tension between you. 

With an inward sigh, you watched him disappear into the trees and shushed Birdie when she released your nipple and began to squirm and fuss. 

“So,” Lori began, “am I looking at the future Mrs. Dixon?” Her question caught you off guard, your eyes shooting wide even as you stared straight ahead. Only when she tapped the back of her hand against your arm did you acknowledge her and her request to take Birdie. Passing the baby off, you adjust your clothing and draped the extra blanket over your daughter.

“How did you—”

“He asked my advice.” Lori carefully arranged Birdie against the front of her shoulder, alternating between patting and rubbing the little one’s back. Tiny grunts and squeaks sounded from beneath the blanket, an audible passing of gas following close behind. The experienced mother turned toward where Hershel had sat to rest as well. “Maybe a touch of colic?” There was that word again. 

The older man hummed. “Could be. I’ll fetch the drops.” You felt bad watching him struggle to his feet from the forest floor, but couldn’t be persuaded to do so yourself. You were just too damn tired.

“What is colic?” You asked, your brow drawing inward. It was obviously not a danger to your baby, given Hershel’s lack of serious concern, but if something was hurting her, it was hurting you. The very thought of her pain had tears springing to your eyes.

“It just means that she’s uncomfortable. It might be the lack of protein in your diet. It could be gas. There’s no real explanation. She’s just—not feeling well. It’s nothing to worry about except she won’t be easily soothed for a while.” Her lips thinned into a sad smile. “It’s nothing and a lot all at once.”

“I’ll take her.” Carol offered whilst petting your hair as Lori had just a few moments prior. Extricating Birdie from Lori’s arms, she bounced the infant tenderly against her chest. “Y/N, will you come find me once you’ve finished up here?” Sporting a questioning look, you still nodded and watched her walk away after returning the gesture.

“He asked your advice?” You stared toward the empty space of Carol’s retreat for a moment longer before turning your attention to Lori. This time, her smile was genuine if not cheeky. 

“He did.”

“Hey—Hey, uh, can I ask ya somethin’?” 

She hadn’t really noticed Daryl approaching but that wasn’t surprising. He was a hunter and stealth was something in which he excelled. Lori paused in her stirring and tapped the spoon on the side of the kettle. The beans had yet to even begin to heat over the small fire inside the house, so she had a few minutes to spare.

“Of course.”

Daryl had changed so much over the course of the months he had been with the group, and she had you to thank for such a large part of that. And now, she had little Birdie to thank as well. The man was going to make an excellent father, despite his lack of confidence.Though she knew so little, she was aware he wrestled with unnamed demons, but you were there to help see him through it. He would be just fine. All three of you would.

“I, uh—well—” The archer rubbed at the back of his neck, something she noticed he did when he was uncomfortable. “Ain’t good at any’a this shit, so m’just gonna say it.” Lori raised her eyebrows when he paused to chew intently on the side of his thumb. “Wanna ask Y/N to, y’know—to marry me.” Her first instinct was to cheer, to celebrate his commitment, but thoughts of Rick—of Shane—trampled any immediate joy and ushered in skepticism. “You’re sure?”

Daryl scoffed. “Course m’sure! Lookit what she went through—what she just did for me. Why wouldn’t I wanna make ‘er my wife?” The confusion—the utter exasperation—on his face gave her pause but she continued.

“But do you love her?” She asked. Daryl wiped a hand down his face, ending with running the length of his index finger across his bottom lip. “It’s not a hard question, Daryl. Do you love her?” She didn’t realize—or maybe she did—how difficult it was for the man to admit something that deep to anyone but you. She wasn’t aware that he had said it before, had said it in the van, in the presence of the Greene’s and Carol, but whether or not they had heard was not something he had bothered to care about during that pivotal moment. 

Finally, Daryl sighed, his voice quiet. “I love ‘er. Yeah.”

Lori felt something in her chest release, a strong sense of relief and—if she were being honest—jealousy overwhelming her senses, making it impossible to speak for a moment. Gathering her bearings, she nodded and turned back to the pot, picking up the spoon to begin stirring. “Then you just ask her.” She sniffed, tilting her head just so in order to hide her tears from him. She was happy for you, compellingly so, but there was no denying the sadness that weighed on her own heart. Still, this wasn’t about her. This was about you—her friend. “Don’t rehearse lines or try to make it perfect. You just ask her. On the spot and from the heart.”

She heard the quiet hum from the side. It was the most straightforward form of acceptance toward her answer that she was bound to get from him. As his bootfalls receded into whispers on far away hardwood, she smiled.

Try or not, he was going to make it something that would mean the world to you.

You wiped away a tear and sniffled, consumed with a fresh wave of guilt for how you had been treating him as of late. He was handling your mood swings with grace, never lashing out, even if you did see him bite his tongue on more than one occasion. He had every right. Hormones or not, he deserved better than what you had been giving him.

“Thanks.” You whispered.

“So?”

You sniffled a second time, wiping at both of your eyes. “So what?”

Lori chuckled, her hands on either side of her belly. “Did you say yes?” 

You smiled and shook your head, recalling the moment to the forefront of your mind—hearing his tone, summoning the myriad of emotions you had experienced. It really was a Daryl Dixon proposal and it couldn’t have been more perfect. “I said yes.” You gave an indignant oomf as you were pulled against Lori, her arms squeezing as tightly as they could manage. “Wait, wait, wait.” You laughed, patting her back in an effort to coerce her into releasing her hold. When she let go, you sat back, expression light. “We’re keeping it quiet for now, making it official later.”

“Why?”

You shrugged. “A lot can happen in a short amount of time. He could change his mind.” Especially with these fucking mood changes. 

“You’re right.” She agreed. You shot her a look, almost as if you had been expecting her to disagree with you. “ A lot can change. We don’t know what’s going to happen even in the next few minutes.” She paused. “Who we might lose.” Leaning forward, she cupped your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Think about it.” You studied her for a moment, the sadness and apprehension radiating from your friend and forming a veil over you that was almost smothering. You nodded. “Good. Now go see what Carol wants. I think I need a nap.” She gave you an encouraging smile and didn’t move as you stood, looking over your shoulder at her before you disappeared to find the other woman and your daughter.

It wasn’t hard to do. Not at all. You just followed the loud exclamations of a disgruntled infant. As you approached, you could tell your daughter had just been given a fresh diaper and was in the process of being swaddled. The cold, flat ground beneath her couldn’t have been helping things. The weather was warming but at a slow rate Regardless, you had no idea what was coming next: what Carol would share with you and the disaster that would follow.

“Oh, hey.” She greeted, patting the ground next to her. The lack of her usual gentle tone and welcoming smile were your first clues that something was amiss. She sighed heavily, not meeting your eyes once you were cross-legged at her side. Her hand was splayed over the top of the blanket, gently rubbing circles over Birdie’s belly. “There’s something I want to tell you—advice, if I can even call it that.” She said solemnly. You weren’t sure where her thoughts were at that moment but it was somewhere dark, somewhere in a place she had deserted since the deaths of Ed and Sophia.

“What is it?” You needlessly adjusted the knit hat on Birdie’s head; pulled the hood of the tiny jumpsuit more snug around her little round face.

“Babies cry, Y/N. It’s how they tell us when they need something. It’s the only way they can tell us.” Why was she schooling you on something you had already learned? And in such a monotonous fashion? “I don’t want Rick to be right but there are dangers and few options if a herd follows the noise.” She sighed heavily, her shoulders held slumped under an invisible weight. “I don’t like it but it’s fact.”

“I know that, Carol.” 

“It’s just—” When you looked away from the baby, your gaze was immediately drawn to the lone tear straying from her closed eyes. “When Sophia was born, she was—she was such a quiet baby.” Her words came so softly, so full of melancholic nostalgia that you felt your own heart clench. Then, when her eyes opened, they were hard, her expression stern and twisted. “He gave me a break. Ed.” She didn’t even need to say his name. You knew. “A couple of weeks before the—old habits came back. The bruises, the screaming.” She was trembling, her hand leaving Birdie to curl into a fist on top of her knee.

“Carol, we don’t have to—”

“Sophia felt it.” She nodded, staring off to nowhere in particular. “That energy—she began to cry, she was so unsettled. Ed didn’t like it. Shut her up or I will, he would say.” She bent forward, her face crumbling as her hand slid up to twist into the front of her jacket. “I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t know how else to keep her safe.”

You waited her out, terrified of what she was about to tell you. When you said nothing, she inhaled deeply and released her hold on the coat, stroking the back of a knuckle over Birdie’s cheek.

“Y/N, I am going to show you something. I only ask that you please try not to think less of me.” Your mouth was moving but no sound emerging, your wide eyes watching her lean over your daughter, shushing the discontented cries. “I would never hurt your daughter, just as I would have never hurt my own.” Before you could speak, she was pinching Birdie’s little nose with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. The crying ceased but the flailing did not, her little limbs jerking.

“Carol!” You threw yourself forward and snatched her wrists, pulling them away from your daughter, throwing the other woman off balance and onto her hip. Carol caught herself, her palm shoving toward you in a desperate gesture for you to calm down. “What the fu—”

“Look!” She pleaded, her head jerking toward the now silent baby.

Birdie was still, her tiny blue eyes open and searching, stunned. She wasn’t crying, not at that moment. Your jaw was agape, your mind warring between anger and bewilderment; between betrayal and understanding.

“You only do it for a moment, not long enough to cause any harm.” Carol sat up, tears flowing down her cheeks, unchecked. “I couldn’t let Sophia cry. I did what I had to do.” She shook her head adamantly, her eyes closed tightly as if she were trying to jar the unpleasant memories loose and out of her mind. “I don’t regret it. I don’t. She was safe from him.”

“I don’t—Carol, I can’t do that.” You were crying openly now, picturing yourself denying your daughter precious breath. Even just one attempt would break you, split you open from the inside out.

“I’m not telling you that you have to, but Y/N,” she paused, gathering herself back up onto her knees at your side. She intentionally kept space between the two of you. “Rick—he’s trying to keep us safe. You saw what those monsters were going to do to her. You’ve seen what walkers can and will do. Just until we find a car. Until—”

Your face was in your hands now, Birdie’s crying having picked back up. “What if I—”

“Only a moment, Y/N. She will catch her breath. Eventually, it—it trains her.” Carol hesitantly touched your shoulder, and you broke, bowing over your little one with open sobs. Your body trembled from the force of your crying, any sound muffled by the blanket pressing into your face. “I’m so sorry. I just want her to be safe. I want her to have a chance.”

The two of you stayed that way for an uncertain amount of time, long enough for your sobs to drain away into hiccups and whimpers. Sitting up, you roughly wiped at your face, red and puffy eyes frozen on your screaming baby. How could you do what she was suggesting? How? What would Daryl think? “I need to talk to Daryl.”

Carol nodded, but her expression screamed uncertainty. “Maybe you should show him.” She suggested. “He can see that it’s not hurting her.”

“The man wouldn’t even wipe her ass because he was afraid of hurting her, Carol.”

“You’re right. Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry.”

She felt ashamed. You could see it all over her; her face, the way she began to curl in on herself. She was ashamed of something she was forced to do to keep her baby girl safe. And then she had lost Sophia. It was clear that Carol wasn’t proud of the way she had to ensure her child’s safety. It wasn’t a hack you go around bragging about at neighborhood get-togethers. It was survival.

“Show me what to do.”

Expression grim, Carol moved closer and instructed. The actions were so simple. It was the very idea itself that was so impossibly difficult. Pinching Birdie’s little nose, the baby gasped wetly through her mouth just as your hand was coming down to cover it. Your heart was seizing, vibrating painfully in your chest. Just as your fingertips touched her cheek—

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

Daryl.

[osakanone]

Crew attire cosplay?

Lately I've been thinking a lot about "what would separate mecha crew equipment from that of a tank crew, or a fighter crew": A lot of military surplus stuff is already really close to what we're going for, and I realized "Motorcycle boots look a lot more like mech pilot stuff than military boots do", which got me thinking what other odd equivalences exist.

The one which really surprised me was how famous mecha live action SF Gunhed used a wetsuit as a stand-in for "generic scifi bodysuit", and that it worked weirdly well, actually?

"Why not latex?"

Latex rips too easily in contact with straps and hard elements, overheats far, far too easily despite having the looks. Thin neoprene works. really well.

So I kept exploring.

One thing I did seriously debate is other than rappelling equipment, would a pilot need something like a rigid knee-brace for hard landings to protect the ACL when they disembark from the robot which is common with high impact parachute equipment.

Some varieties also include counter-weighted springs which make it harder for you to close your knee, but make lifting heavy things on your back and climb much much easier during the ascent phase.

That led me towards Deck Crew helmets, which meet the hood requirement, and of all things, chin wraps which are really unobstructive and you can eat and drink while wearing one pretty comfortably (I say this as someone currently stuck wearing one)

So what we're looking at here is the HGU-24 and HGU-25, often worn by deck crews because it gets along just fine with the famous MCU-2/P AKA "Millenium" mask famous with drone communities as they're designed to be worn together.

Its literally the exact same mask with a minor paint adjustment.

"What's the difference between a drone and a pilot?" "One wears AXENT and latex, the other wears HGU-25 and neoprene." "Anything else?" "Drones have less sex and do as they're told"

Its got the bash-plates you want for an ejector-seat, but it also has the padded foam you want for an impact element, and if it latches properly and the jaw mechanism is well made enough, you could probably include a hans mechanism attached to the jacket which locks into a socket in the pilot's seat to stop a pilot from breaking their neck in a collision.

What do you guys think?

Any suggestions? What I'm really curious about is what you think pilots would remove, customize or alter for practical or decorative purposes.

This is basically the result of roughly a year of casual research into pilot attire, outfits and looks.

The helm and the hood seem to be where the most manual cosplay stitching and 3D printing work is likely going to be required, with the wrap and helmhood.

Addendum:

I've not gone into waste management systems (UCL/FCL human-factors engineering stuff with internal and external recovery systems), since I'm looking at this mainly as an attainable costume or ensemble.

Edit:

I am learning some of you use aquatic mecha and find this unsatisfactory.

And you won't shut up about how the coolant mass flow rate lets you do really wild shit with your weapons my "land-loving" platform even can't dream of

While I am jealous by your sheer tonnage and the output of your reactors, I've got you covered.

Behold: Immersion suits.

They also make surprisingly good sleeping bags, even if you're on water.

They're literally designed to keep you alive if you're forced to abandon an oil platform, and are known to include a radio and even rations and a water filter.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Construction Dog Co.

Each one of these dumb brutes belongs to me! They once had their own lives and careers, but I replaced all that with the blind obedience of a dog. My words dictate their reality, so they'll believe anything I say. That's why it seems perfectly normal for them to wait like this every morning. They'd kneel there all day if I let them, but they need to work eventually!

"Get off your knees, dogs! Hop to work! It's the only thing you're good for!" I yell it with venom, but I relish seeing my words soaking in into their minds. With just a simple command, I've convinced them all that they are animals, good only for hard work and manual labor.

The men rush to their feet, scrambling to pick up where they'd left off yesterday. I don't bother understanding the minor details of their day to day responsibilities. I have different boys programmed to manage all that crap for me. I really only bother watching them sweat their days away.

Being the supervisor can get a bit boring, especially after hearing, "Thank you, boss. I love you, boss," for like the seventh time in a day. It kind of loses it's meaning after awhile.

That's why I often use them for entertainment. Watch this!

"Hey, you two!" I call, pointing at two sweaty workers nearby, "You're in love with each other. Make out!"

Despite being hot and exhausted, the two men drop their tools and perk up. When they meet each other's eyes it's like they're seeing one another for the first time. They practically slam their bodies together in a race to each other's throat, and within seconds the two guys are lost in a world of dirt, saliva, and lust.

I do this with my men often, but who could blame me! I handpicked each one of them because they were strong and hot. If they're going to be hypnotized work slaves, then I need to enjoy how they look.

"You too aren't doing anything else but each other for the rest of the day," I command with a laugh, "Got it?"

"Yes, sir," their replies are moaned out between breaths.

A lot of my laborers were straight before they met me, but these two were creeps about it. I think I found them at the gym, hitting on girls between every set. I obviously enjoyed erasing their raunchy personalities. I find it even more enjoyable watching them grope and slobber over each other, knowing that those bodies would've never done that before I came along.

Those jagoffs are just the beginning of my day! I leave them after they've tumbled to the ground, humping each other like the dumb animals they are.

"You there!" I point to a different guy, quietly stacking blocks nearby, "Get over here and clean the floor as I walk. These Timberlands are brand new and I don't want mud on them."

"Yes, sir," the worker answers and rushes over, throwing himself to the ground before me.

I chuckle and study the poor loser in front of me. With just a few short words, I have him scrubbing a place for me to walk like I'm his king. I scoff in disbelief when I finally recognize who the guy was.

"Wait, are you that jerk from the bank?"

"Yes, sir," he admits quietly, keeping his head lowered towards his work.

"Well shit, you've come a long way! Can you believe that a week ago you were some fancy banker who tried to deny me a loan?" I give his head a little nudge with the toe of my shoe, "This is a much better place for you...uh... Robert...or was it Roger?"

"Reggie, sir," he quickly corrects me.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore," I scowl at him, "Forget your name. You're just a construction dog, now. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who are you?"

"I'm...I'm just a construction dog." I can tell he believes it now, too. I'm probably the only one here that knows his real name, and I'll definitely forget it within a few days.

"Good boy," I pat him on the head, "Now, you're going to stay ahead of me and keep clearing the floor for me to walk."

Reggie mumbles "Yes, sir," and crawls forward to scrub away the dirt in my immediate vicinity. Continuing on my tour, the poor guy struggles to keep up on all-fours, but a good work animal must get used to that position.

By the end of the day, my entire pack of men is sweaty and exhausted. I usually make them all work the maximum shift with no breaks, so it makes sense for them to be tired. Still, they are programmed to come and kneel before me, waiting to be dismissed. They're all a bit antsy for a rest, but I like to test their patience.

"Alright, boys. You're dismissed for the night."

With a collective groan, they climb back to their feet, marching off to the bunk house.

The bunk house is where I keep them when they aren't working. It might seem tight but each guy has enough room to sleep; although, I make them share because I don't want to purchase anymore bunk spaces. I don't really like to spend any money on them. They have access to the porta-john out back, but otherwise they aren't allowed to go anywhere else. I also only gave them the clothes they work in, so they sleep in them too.

Needless to say, it stinks in there. Between the heat, body odor, unwashed clothes, and lack of showers, they've created quite the stench. I avoid their home as much as I can, but sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me. This is the first time I've seen it in weeks.

"Come on boys, don't look so glum!" I chastise them, "Smile! Act like you're happy to see me!"

I watch as a switch goes in each of their minds. Slowly, they snap out of their foggy eyed depression, and light up. The energy of the room transforms as reassuring smiles spread across each of their manly faces.

"That's better! You boys are a tight-knit team! You love each other!" I add, "You don't mind the back-breaking work, or the smell, or anything as long as you're together."

The men become even more at ease, relaxing into the arms of their coworkers. My heart is warmed a little, seeing them getting along with each other so well. They're acting like energetic little puppies now.

I'm ready to leave them for the night. It's time for me to return to my luxury condo down the street, but before I do, I catch sight of one of my workers. An idea springs into my head.

"You, there. Come with me."

"Yes, sir," he answers, though he seems genuinely disappointed to be leaving his buddies.

I lead him outside and hose him off to remove at least some of the mud and sweat. We walk all the way to my apartment. Luckily, he's mostly dry by then so I take him inside.

"Is this going to take awhile, sir?" he asks nervously, "I'm pretty tired and my bedmate is going to sleep soon."

"Shut up and get on the bed," I command.

His mouth snaps shut and he obediently approaches my soft king bed, crawling onto it like I told him to. I sigh when I notice that the stupid oaf still tracked a lot of mud in. I'll have to make him clean it all up later.

"Now, you aren't going to speak or move unless I tell you too," I instruct, "But you will realize that anything I do will be exactly what you want: no matter what I do..."

He gazes back at me numbly.

"Tell me you understand."

"I understand, sir," he instantly repeats.

Tonight is going to be a long night for him. Too bad he still has to wake up early and report to work. I'm already planning on sleeping in. I don't mind keeping my workers waiting for a few hours while I rest. It's my company after all, and they're just dogs for labor...

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ace Trappola - Suitor Suit Vignette

"I love..."

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Crowley: Dearie me… Today was indeed an ordeal.

Crowley: It seems the ghosts have all disappeared, leaving our cafeteria still decorated for a wedding ceremony.

Crowley: How dare they take no responsibility for what happened.

Crowley: We won't be able to open for meals tomorrow if it stays like this.

Crowley: So, young freshmen. I'll leave it to you to clear up this "wedding venue" before heading back to your dormitories, then.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Ehhhh～～～!?

Ace: When you say freshmen… That doesn't include me 'n Epel in all our tuxedo glory, right?

Crowley: No, I mean all freshmen. I pride myself as an educator who treats all my students the same!

Epel: Oh, come on…

Ace: Give us a break, already. I did so much today, I'm wiped out.

Crowley: I will admit that you played an integral part in today's procession… But that is that, and this is this.

Crowley: I do hope you lively youngsters will be quick about it!

Grim: Hey, Yuu. Stop spacing out! We're makin' a run for it before the Headmage notices us.

Crowley: Ah, of course, that includes [Yuu]-kun and Grim-kun, too.

Grim: Myaaaah!!

Epel: Urgh. I've thrown away so many of these ribbon off the walls, and there's still more to go.

Grim: Whenever I try pullin' the lace off, it keeps getting' caught on my claws!

Ace: This chair's real sturdy. Where'd they even find… Wait, it's a tombstone! [shudders]

1. We're not anywhere close to getting finished. 2. I wanna go home already.

Ortho: Hey everyone, I'm here to help too, so let's put our all into it!

Ace: …Arrrgh, come on! I did so much to help out, too!

Ace: How much trouble do ghosts gotta put us through before they're satisfied, anyway?

Ace: 500 years? Crazy they've been obsessing over something like "love" for that long.

Ace: I'm pretty pissed at those ghost soldiers, sure… But I don't understand what that princess was thinking at all.

Ace: I'd've had a lot less trouble if she'd just given up on the whole marriage thing and lived a happy afterlife instead…

Epel: …

Epel: Ace-kun… Has there ever been someone you liked?

Ace: Huh!? Why're you asking me that all of a sudden?

Epel: Just thought it was strange… You saying she was "obsessive" or that you "don't understand" her.

Epel: 'Cause you kinda give off this vibe that you'd know a bit more about relationships.

Ace: What, you saying I'm a playboy or something?

Epel: N-No, I'm not saying that.

Grim: You shouldn't tease Ace like that, askin' about his love life. No way he'd have any idea about that sorta stuff.

Grim: There's no way a jerk like him would ever have any luck.

Ace: Hey, can you try not being jealous of me for one sec?

Ace: Back in middle school, even I had a girlfriend I'd take to amusement parks or movie theaters or whatever.

Grim: Wh-What!? You're soundin' pretty cocky for someone like you, Ace!

Ortho: Amusement parks and movies, hm. My manual says that regardless of the generation, those are pretty popular date spots!

Epel: Nice… all this talkin' about datin' and such's makin' me feel like we're really at our peak high school guy talk stage!

Epel: So? What happened?

Ace: Well…

Ace: You know girls, they're so scared of roller coasters, so all we'd ride was the merry-go-round or the ferris wheel.

Ace: She'd say everything was "Cute!" and take a ton of Magicam pictures, but I didn't really see what was so exciting about those rides.

Ace: Plus, whenever we went to see a movie, she never wanted to watch action or horror movies, just romance and cute animal movies…

Ace: It was just borin' with her, so we just slowly stopped messaging each other.

Epel: Oh, I see. Doesn't that seem a little…disappointing?

Ace: Yeah, but the worst was still to come. After I started slowly distancing myself, whaddya think happened next?

Ace: …One day, this group of girls I'd never met in my life started shouting at me…

Ace: "Why didn't you ever call her?" "How could you!" "She's been crying non-stop!" "You brute!"

Ace: …And they went on and on scolding me! What's with that, some kind of solidarity between girls or whatever?

Ace: That's when I realized. Love is just a pain to deal with!

Ace: I have way more fun just hangin' with the guys.

Grim: Man, you're just a kid, after all.

Ace: Don't wanna hear that from you, of all people.

Ace: …But, anyway!

Ace: I think it's not me we gotta worry about, but those guys over there.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Hm?

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Ace: I think it's not me we gotta worry about, but those guys over there.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Hm?

Deuce: Hey, Ace. What have you guys been chatting away about over there?

Jack: Urgh… It's already past midnight and I don't think I can stay awake any longer. Let's hurry and finish cleaning up already.

Ace: You guys are tryin' to act all cool, but who was it that was just rolling around on the floor all day today?

Ace: Look at 'em, Grim. You should be saying that these dunderheads who couldn't even succeed in their mission are more like kids.

Grim: Hm, I guess…?

Grim: Deuce did look pretty lame when he froze up tryin' to talk to that bride.

Ace: Riiiight～?! I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe at all.

Deuce: Wha… I couldn't help it! I'm not used to talking to girls.

Deuce: I clam up when I start thinking that I might say something stupid and callous…

Ace: Your middle school was co-ed, wasn't it? Weren't you popular enough?

Ace: I always thought that guys with that "tough guy" image always had girls falling at their feet.

Deuce: Falling at my feet?

Deuce: …Nah, no one ever talked to me.

Deuce: Every girl other than my mom ―or rather, every guy, too― would run away the moment we made eye contact.

Ace: Ah, I see… So you were just so scary no one wanted to come close…

Ace: Jack got rejected pretty quick too, so I guess guys who just look scary from the get-go just can't get girls, huh.

Jack: That's all useless talk. I don't really care if people like me.

Ace: Oho? What, you a sore loser or something?

Jack: No. Wolf beastmen like myself are destined to find the one person to care about forever.

Jack: Both my parents and my grandparents are the same… From the moment they wake up to the moment they go to sleep, they're always together. Even when taking a walk or having meals.

Jack: When the time comes that I fall in love, I plan on being with them for the rest of my life.

Jack: That's why I don't care if a bunch of folks like me.

Ace: Th... That's waaaaay too deep!

Ace: Dude, you're still a student, and you're talking about "the rest of my life"… You're taking this "love" stuff way too seriously!

Deuce: Also, can you really think about marriage before you've even got a career plan set up?

Grim: What a pain! I definitely don't wanna ever date Jack.

Jack: Well, I'm not asking you to!

Ace: Then, I guess it's more guys like Epel that'd get the most attention.

Ace: Instead of being scary looking, he's a pretty boy with potential!

Epel: Eh, m-me!?

Ace: Well, you were askin' about others, so you should cough up a story too. Was there anyone back home you had a crush on?

Epel: Uh…

Ace: Come on～ Don't keep it a secret～ We're tux buddies, ain't we?

Deuce: That's a rude way to drag him in. Why're you so hung up on hearing about other people's love lives?

Jack: I bet he's hoping that other people'll do his share of the clean up while he keeps the conversation going.

Deuce: Makes sense. That's a pretty Ace-like move.

Ace: You guys are totally interested in hearing too!

Jack/Deuce: Well…

Ace: You ever get confessed to? Was there someone you liked? Or even dated someone!?

Epel: …

Jack/Deuce/Ace: …!

Epel: …Hate to break it to you guys when you're all looking at me so intently…

Epel: But there's not many people in my hometown. And even then, most of the people there either way older or way younger than me.

Epel: I never really got to spend time with people my age once I came here to Night Raven College…

Epel: All I did was help out on my family's farm… So I don't really have any exciting story…

Ace: Dang, so you don't have any fun stories too, huh.

Epel: Sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations.

Ortho: If I were to compare against prior data gathered of boys of similar age, it seems like everyone here is drastically lacking when it comes to living your youthful years.

Ace: Shut it!

Sebek: Hey! Humans! You've all stalled in your work.

Sebek: IF YOU'VE GOT TIME TO CHIT-CHAT, STACK THE CHAIRS!

Ace: Here he comes, the guy who's got the worst chance among us.

Jack: Yeah, I was pretty disappointed too.

Sebek: Hmph. All of you are just going back and forth about falling in love and whatnot.

Sebek: We are students. If you have time for that sort of ridiculous leisure, you should focus on your studies instead!

Grim: Don't be talkin' down to us! You were one of the first to get rejected!

Sebek: I was not rejected! I rejected her!

Sebek: I am busy training every single day to be a capable guard for Malleus-sama. I have no time for frivolities like "love."

Ace: You say that, but what if someone that was really your type shows up one day?

Ace: You plannin' on droning on and on about Malleus-senpai to that person, too?

Sebek: I fully know what to do. Lilia-sama has explained to me what I should do if I were to meet my soulmate.

Sebek: …FIRST I WOULD CRAFT FOR THEM A WELL-THOUGHT OUT CORRESPONDENCE!

Ace: Correspondence!!?? You mean, write a letter!?

Ace: That's like something our grandparents would do!

Deuce: It'd be better if you sent a message on Magicam or email instead.

Sebek: Why is that? Lilia-sama would say that "Fountain pens and stationary are a lover's weapon."

Sebek: One should lay out their thoughts in the missive, and every third letter, also include a picture with a smile. This should continue until the 25th full moon of the courtship.

Sebek: Once enough correspondence has been exchanged…

Sebek: We are to sit on a bench together in Briar Valley Central Park, leaving enough space for one between us!

Epel: Yeah, you're definitely being led on…

Sebek: WHAT!!?? HOW DARE A LOWLY HUMAN DOUBT LILIA-SAMA LIKE SO!!??

Ace: Yeah, yeah. Pipe down already. It'll go on and on if we don't nip it in the bud here, so let's call it quits here!

Ace: [sigh]… But maybe Sebek has a bit of a point.

Jack: What, you gonna write some letters too?

Ace: Oh yeah, yeah, I'd totally whip out the white stationary and write in cursive "I love"… Not!!

Ace: Even for this, me and Epel needed Riddle-ryōchō and Rook-senpai's help, right?

Epel: …Yeah. If we didn't have those two, I don't think we would've been able to get as far as we did.

Ace: You know, it came to me when I saw my Housewarden taking on all those ghosts.

Ace: "My Housewarden's pretty cool."

Ace: I wanna get better at using magic, man.

Ace: I can't even compare against my Housewarden or other upperclassmen right now, but...

Ace: But someday, I'll totally show off what all I can do, and be all, "Check me out now!"

Ace: I totally get a jolt through my body imagining the shock on their faces when I finally show my awesome skills, see?

Ace: And in order to get to that point… I guess I need to focus up a bit more in my studies before thinking anything about love.

Epel: …Yeah. You're right. I think so too!

Sebek: Hmph. See, you do get it.

Deuce: Yeah, we need to hunker down with our studies.

Jack: When Deuce with all his failing marks says that, it just feels even more important to think about.

Sebek/Epel/Ace: Yeah.

Deuce: Why are you all in step when it comes to things like this!?

Ace: …Putting that all aside, we just really got carried away in conversation, huh. We ain't nowhere near done putting the cafeteria back in order!

Ace: Not only did we have to deal with all those ghosts, but now we gotta be held after to do more work…

Ace: We're so lame. Nothing good came out of today at all.

Ortho: That's not true!

Ace: Eh?

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Ortho: I was watching the video with the Headmage when you barged into the wedding ceremony, and…

Ortho: It felt like I was watching a movie, seeing you burst in with your flower bouquet, shouting out "Wait a sec!"

Ortho: You were so passionately coming to my brother's rescue…

Ortho: It was suuuuuuuuuuuper cool!

Ace: Huh? I wasn't passionate anything.

Ace: That was because I had just finished running away from the ghosts… or more like I got caught up in the flow.

Ortho: Nah. I saw just how serious you looked when you rushed into the room.

Ortho: You totally meant every word you said to the bride and her retainers, didn't you?

Grim: There ain't no way Ace'd say anything that genuine.

Grim: All he did was just ramble on about stuff without putting in any thought, I bet.

Ace: Y-Yeah, yeah! You got it right on the money, Grim.

Ortho: Judging from what I gleaned from my infrared sensor, with his elevated body temperature, voice pitch and pupil dilation…

Ortho: All the preceding data brings us to the conclusion that Ace was being genuine.

Ortho: …There's no need for you to hide it. You're really shy, huh!

Deuce: Which means…

Sebek: All he said to the ghost bride about the "perfect marriage partner"…

Jack: Was Ace's actual genuine thoughts!?

Ortho: Yup. There's no doubt.

Ortho: It's wonderful that you have a real good image of your ideal partner.

Ace: Hah!? No way! Absolutely no way!

Ace: I just said whatever I thought the ghosts would swallow!

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Ohooo～～??

Grim: Protesting too much, don'tcha think?

Ortho: Even the Headmage said, "I'm growing fonder of Trappola-kun by the second!"

Ortho: Based on prior literature, statistically speaking, if you were to confess to someone with the same passion as you did today…

Ortho: You're sure to have no trouble getting someone to fall in love with you!

Ace: There ain't no passion. That wasn't a confession!

Ace: …And all you stop your stupid grinning!

Epel: Wow, I didn't realize how much you put into it…

Epel: I wish I could've seen you looking so cool, Ace-kun.

Ortho: Leave it to me! I still have the recording. I'll send you the video later.

Ace: STOP WITH THE RECORDING!

Deuce: Oh, nice thinking. We should all watch it later once we're done clearing everything away. You guys good with doing it at Ramshackle?

Jack: Running a play-by-play could be fun. I'm feeling more awake now.

Sebek: I shall give my own evaluation of it as well!

Sebek: You said I was the guy today with the worst chance among all of us. I'll make sure to thoroughly lambast you as penance.

Ace: DON'T BE TRYING TO MAKE INTO A VIEWING PARTY!

1. No need to be shy. 2. We just want to pay tribute to your gallant speech.

Ortho: Yeah～!

Ortho: That's why you, Ace Trappola-san, who already has thought of what his ideal partner would be…

Ortho: Is the best suited suitor of all!

Ace: …Aaaaah, come on! I've already told you… I wasn't serious at all!

Grim: Woah. Ace's turned completely red even to the tips of his ears!

Deuce: Haha, you're right. This isn't something we get to ever see.

Jack: Hey, Ortho. Make sure you capture this moment too.

Grim: You too, [Yuu], snap a shot on the ghost camera!

Ace: Why's everyone gotta mess with me like this…?

Ace: Just drop it already, guys～～!

Requested by Anonymous.

[lunememes]

🌙 * ― 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐓 ( a collection of sentence starters from season one of amazon's fallout show. feel free to adjust the wording and pronouns as needed! do not add to the list. )

❛  and in that respect, he could be a cannibal or just like, crammed full of tumours. ❜ ❛  flesh is weak but steel endures. ❜ ❛  unless you know what to find and preserve, you're more useful as a corpse. ❜ ❛  how do we know they're not feral? ❜ ❛  well what makes you think i give a good goddamn about that? ❜ ❛  well what the fuck would you know 'bout where i'm from? ❜ ❛  but for me, well, i do this shit for the love of the game. ❜ ❛  you come from a place of rules, of laws. this place is indifferent to all of that. ❜ ❛  question is, will you still want the same things when you have become a different animal altogether? ❜ ❛  you earn the suit through acts of bravery. this is an act of bravery. ❜ ❛  and i'm telling you you're gonna go through a whole lot worse if you stay 'round here. trust me. ❜ ❛  clean hair. nice teeth. and all ten fingers. must be nice. ❜ ❛  the vaults were nothing more than a hole in the ground for rich folks to hide in while the rest of the world burned. ❜ ❛  you know your kind ain't welcome here. ❜ ❛  you gotta be fucking kidding me. ❜ ❛  you'll be lucky if you can make it to fucking breakfast. ❜ ❛  i'm sorry for yellin', been shot in the leg. ❜ ❛  do you have anyone else you can trust in this town? ❜ ❛  do i really have to kill him? ❜ ❛  well, if you like the taste of lavender, why not just drink a bottle of perfume? ❜ ❛  that's the worst thing i've ever put in my mouth. that's horrible. ❜ ❛  do unto others as you would have done unto you. ❜ ❛  thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time. ❜ ❛  water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. ❜ ❛  where do you think you're going? you ain't going nowhere. ❜ ❛  there you are, you little killer. ❜ ❛  no! what a disgusting idea. i'm simply going to harvest your organs. ❜ ❛  i may end up looking like you, but i'll never be like you. ❜ ❛  i really wanna believe you but practically every person i've met up here has tried to kill me. ❜ ❛  listen, hey. you don't get this medicine, you're gonna pass out, okay? and if you lose consciousness, we're both gonna die. ❜ ❛  i've seen these in old engineering manuals but never in real life. ❜ ❛  now, seeing as everyone on earth seems to be after that thing, i'm guessing that's what you're looking for too? ❜ ❛  and you could've killed me when i collapsed back there and you didn't. ❜ ❛  i get that trust doesn't come easily up here. but you can trust me. ❜ ❛  i hate it up here. ❜ ❛  the things i'm willing to do for you never cease to amaze me. ❜ ❛  hey, hey, hey. come here. i'm sorry. i know you always try to do the right thing. that's what i love about you. ❜ ❛  trust doesn't come easily to those of us with a guilty conscience. ❜ ❛  in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. is that true in your case? ❜ ❛  these people are hiding something from us, and i'm gonna prove it to you, okay? ❜ ❛  there's always some new little faction, ain't there? brand new team of believers with their own dumbass ideas about how they gonna save the world. ❜ ❛  so what d'you think [name]? am i really walking out of here today, or are you gonna try and draw on me for what i did? ❜ ❛  a good bad guy doesn't see themselves as the bad guy. ❜ ❛  and yet power is taken, not given. a lesson you seem to have learned. ❜ ❛  war never changes. ❜ ❛  you look out at this wasteland, looks like chaos. but there's always somebody behind the wheel. and that's who i wanna talk to. ❜ ❛  maybe you can stop them. maybe you can't. maybe all you can do is try. ❜

[daintylovers]

thinking of calling stiles or thomas pretty which leads to the most hot teeth clashing make out session with then leads to the most passionate sex ever..

i don't know what i'm on tonight leave me alone ..

aaahhhhh i know its been so long but I'm really feeling stiles rn-

you guys are already making out on his bed when you whisper the words- god, you're so pretty, baby

and goddamn if he hadn't already had a raging boner, he definitely would have after that. everything about those five simple words had him gasping for air. the breathy tone with which it was said, almost like you were mid-moan. or how you were the first person to ever call him pretty. it has him pulling himself away from you, grasping your cheeks in his hands to really be able to look into your eyes.

in typical stilinski fashion, he says- do you really think I'm pretty?

you can smell the underlying insecurity in his words. what if you were just saying that to keep things all hot? what if you didn't mean it?

of course, i think you're pretty. are you crazy? god, every time i look at you i have to manually force myself to breathe. you're the prettiest person I've ever seen, and i get to look at myself in the mirror every day.

that last bit pulls a giggle from his lips. he's grinning like a dork, which only adds to your love for him.

he dives back into your kisses, tongues lapping at each other. and when he realizes he may not be winning that fight, he moves to kiss along your jaw, pulling pretty noises from your lips. his hands move up and down your waist, pushing the fabric of your shirt up higher every time, until you eventually get the hint and take the damn thing off.

his hands are pawing at your breasts but he moves further down quickly. unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down, he has you kick them off the rest of the way.

not fully expecting to get to this point today, but happy to do so nonetheless you apologize for the pink cotton panties you are wearing. they have a little bow at the center and stiles is practically drooling at it.

he slowly pulls them off, reveling at the slick that sticks to the fabric. slightly nervous, your head is facing the ceiling as his breath fans across your center. he makes sure you aren't paying attention before he pockets the underwear- for, later purposes.

stiles specialize in kitten licks to your clit that have you squirming and gripping the sheets for dear life. you don't want to grind into his face but it seems like he wants that with the feathery touches.

but he's in one of those moods to prolong things. take his time. what a sap.

you let him continue his motions for a few more minutes. he adds a finger, pumping in and out at a steady rhythm. but it's not enough. you need more.

so, as gently as you can, you push him away from your core.

whats wrong? are you okay?

you answer him with a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. you hands travel down to palm him through his pants. which is completely unfair, why is he not naked?

you begin unbuttoning his pants before just telling him to take the jeans off himself.

he's quick to respond, tugging them off and throwing them behind him. then he completes the job by doing the same with his boxers.

you look at him for a moment, taking him in with all his glory. his swollen lips, chest panting up and down, and his dick, head coated in pre-cum.

you both lock eyes and go for it, teeth practically gnashing together at the speed with which you throw yourselves to each other. you have one hand snaking down to start rubbing him, and he pulls away once again. breathing heavy with eyelids practically closed. he whimpers and pleads for more. just a little bit more.

so you push him onto his back, straddling his hips, quick to line him up and sink yourself onto him. he moans on impact, so loud that if his dad were home, you both would have been fucked.

he doesn't hesitate to start bucking up into you, barely giving you the chance to sink up and down at your own pace. its a play for power as he moves his fingers down to circle around your clit, finally pressing firmly enough. he speeds up his motions and it has you falling onto his chest.

stiles smiles at this, happy to have won this fight. he flips you onto your back before pistoning into you at an almost relentless pace. you both are groaning in each other's ears and in no time, he has you seeing stars. once he feels you tighten around him, he pulls out at record speed, spilling onto your lower stomach, if he had waited a second longer, he would have done it inside of you, and you would have murdered him.

he collapses beside you, taking a few moments before getting up to get a towel and some clothes.

he comes back to clean up, but there's still something on his mind- did you mean it?

you don't catch on, still in a blissful haze, so he tries again- do you actually think I'm pretty?

you laugh a little through your words- oh my god stiles, are you serious? i just let you fuck the daylights out of me and you don't think i think your pretty?

yeah, sorry. it's stupid-

no, stiles it's not stupid- its just, i don't know a better way to say this other than saying that of course your pretty because i wouldn't fuck someone who wasn't pretty.

and that, oddly enough, has his ego soaring to the skies. because, yeah, he is pretty and he gets to have sex with you anytime he wants. well, as long as you also want to have sex at that point.

A/N: I wanted to keep his personality still a little goofy and awkward- so i hope it worked lol :)

[sophie-frm-mars]

I just wanna gush about DBT for a second

DBT saved my life so I'm gonna spend a moment telling everyone how helpful it can be because I know there are a lot of people with BPD out there who need to hear it.

so cluster B personality disorders are characterised by, among other things "unrelenting crisis" - this is the combination of the feeling that every small problem you encounter is just yet more insurmountable bullshit and the reality that you have a lot of bad shit going on in your life, some of caused by the wider world beyond your control and inevitably some of it self-inflicted. The problem is, to someone who is constantly activated and feels life as this kind of non stop catastrophe, it's really hard to practice skills learned in therapy to do anything about it AND it feels impossible to judge what is an appropriate thing to spend your energy on, where to even begin tackling your problems.

The group component of DBT is explicitly justified in the therapists' manual as tackling this, which I think is genius. A borderline patient will bring new problems to their therapist every week and not focusing on them will trigger feelings of abandonment but the patient will definitely have forgotten all about this problem and moved onto a new one by next session or the one after so you have two therapies, one talk therapy one-on-one and the other a group setting like a class where you learn the DBT skills, and then in the group setting no patient feels like they're being especially ignored by the therapist because they're all there to learn the skills as peers. I just think that's really clever

The bit that really whips though is the skills around Accumulating positive experiences and Building mastery. Okay so your life feels like shit, right? Like one shit thing after another? Your therapy is to have a nice time and get better at something in a way that makes you proud. There's a whole acronym for the skills you need to use to keep yourself well, ABC PLEASE, but C and PLEASE are all essentially preventative skills to stop you having an actively bad time or worsening your mental health, and A and B (Accumulate positive experiences, Build mastery) are the ones where you're proactively creating your life worth living and I love it so much.

Accumulating Positive Experiences really does just mean having a nice time in an intentional way. It can literally be watching TV, it can be whatever you want, but you approach it thinking about what will make good experiences that will actively make you feel like you are leading a life worth living. My girlfriend and I went to the planetarium and took edibles last month and it owns so hard that according to DBT that's therapy

Building Mastery is all about helping you get a sense of momentum and direction by improving at something, ideally something that isn't also what you do for work. I know "get a hobby" seems like such basic advice for helping someone out of a rough time but like I've been bouldering since early last year and seeing myself get better at it has been impossibly good for me.

I've been getting into cooking this year as one of my Building mastery practices, at first just regularish like "how can I feed myself in a way that feels like I'm showing myself care at all" like finally learning how to make some of the comfort foods I had in childhood like beef stew, or trying out new things on my very basic salmon, potatoes and broccolli, like teriyaki glaze on broccolli or making hasselback potatoes. Then after a while it became a thing where I felt confident enough to actually thing about a little project and do it like around when my gf and I started officially dating I made her roast lamb and dauphinoise potatoes (nothing photographs well, sorry in advance lol), or we started rewatching Twin Peaks and I really wanted cherry pie so I made my own, which I had never done before!

and at the same time as improving at that stuff I felt like I was good enough at it that cooking for other people was a way I could show them care, which was something I had always wanted but never put in the time to making a reality.

In The Endings Machine: Technology & Teleology I talked about how cooking vegan food in groups is more effective in several ways that going vegan yourself and afterwards my sister (who helped with recording) said to me and a friend "I've been thinking about this ever since filming, we should do this!" and we've been holding a rotating vegan group meal at other's places fortnightly since then, and it's been really good! (This idea btw was partly inspired by my time on the ZAD where communal living leads to group cooking on a rotation, mostly vegan) For the first one I made a spicy mushroom pasta, then I had to bring the dessert to one and I made a vegan chocolate tart with coconut milk instead of dairy making a coconut chocolate filling and it was SOOO good

Last week the vegan meal was at mine again and it fell on halloween so we invited more people and arranged a little spooky movie screening and I made SOOO much food and it was all fucking fantastic. My gf and I made dhal makhani, aubergine rice, parathas, vegan raita and onion bhajis and served them with some mango chutney and some oven-cook samosas that were just from big tesco. I'm so fucking proud of myself, I've never cooked this much before and it went so well! I guess what I really want to get across is how looking at this from the DBT perspective I gotta get across how good this shit is for your mental health and how absurdly well it dovetails with building community.

There are all sorts of other ways Accumulating positive experiences and Building mastery help, because DBT is a very holistic approach to helping people get better - like if you know what things you like doing and you plan them to be available to you, you know that you're going to be happy with your own company, which means if you're having a shit time around someone else you're happy saying "I would be having a better time being alone right now" and just leaving. That makes it easier to live up to your self-respect goals, which are a big part of the DBT interpersonal effectiveness skills, as well as helping to tackle every cluster B girlie's deep seated fear of abandonment.

I could go on an on, but the salient thing right now is that there are a lot of people struggling with stuff I relate to as someone who has had my shit rocked by Borderline Personality Disorder for years and years, and I know that the biggest feeling at core is like "what is this all for? what is the thing that we are all trying to do in the space we are chaotically scrabbling to try to clear all the time?" and this is the answer: you want to accumulate positive experiences and build mastery, and when you get to doing it you have such a profoundly more grounded sense of being in the world, of what it is that's worth being here for and what stands in the way of life just being like that for everyone and a more meaningful drive to try and make it be that way for everyone.

I also wanna go on and on about how Interpersonal Effectiveness makes everyone better at organising too, but I think the Life Worth Living is the better sales pitch for DBT. idk in short a close friend pitched it to me a little while ago that all leftists should learn DBT and it would make the revolution way easier and the more I live of my life worth living the more I agree.

[pilfappreciator]

I just saw your request guidelines! how about a John Dory x gn!reader that babies him? he's all abt being the leader and bossy and such, it would be cute when he turns soft and lets the reader baby him.

Ah yes, love me some middle-aged dumb jock "all about that van life" squating in the woods and interrupting strangers weddings for no reason ex-boyband member fluff 😘

John Dory x Reader: his ass needs pampering

Includes: GN! Reader, touch-starved John Dory, mentions of prolonged isolation, slight angst

🥽 It'll take some time (and lots of persuasion on your end) before John Dory even CONSIDERS the idea of letting someone else take the reigns

🥽 He was forced to grow up pretty quick when he was younger. He was the oldest of five and it didn't seem like any of them had parents to fall back during their childhood. Sure, there was Grandma Rosiepuff but it wasn't quite the same... and after Brozone started to take off in popularity, John Dory felt it was his time to step up as a leader

🥽 Obviously, having that kind of pressure on your shoulders while growing up in the public eye doesn't bode well for someone's self-worth

🥽 I feel like John Dory found comfort in being in charge tho?? Like he likes when things go his way so he definitely appreciated the feeling of control lol

🥽 BUT LIKE I SAID, this man CAN be talked into taking the backseat for once!!

🥽 Start out small. Maybe do little favors for him, like grabbing him a tool or item he needs before he goes for it himself, or holding doors open so he can walk through, or using your thumb to wipe some crumbs or sauce off his face (this guys a messy eater, don't even ATTEMPT to convince me otherwise)

🥽 Tbh he probably won't even notice what you're doing at first. He'll just be like "aw thanks babe :]" and move his ass right along

🥽 He'll only start taking the hint once you start escalating those favors. Next thing he knows you're offering to drive Rhonda so he can relax, or making his meals for him, or offering massages

🥽 I mean... he might not refuse that last one but that's besides the point shahlskdja

🥽 It's only when you start taking on some of his chores and usual manual labor that he starts speaking up

🥽 "Look, babe, I appreciate what you're tryin' to do but it's fine! I've got this!"

"No, it's cool, I'll do it."

"Seriously, you don't have to."

"I know! But I want to."

"Really, your boy's got thi---"

"You sit your ass down and enjoy that sandwich I made you, John Dory."

"Okay o_o"

🥽 Yeahhhh you're definitely gonna have to be firm with this man if you actually want him to relax. Maybe make his ass do a puzzle or something askjdhas

🥽 I mean it's not like you're taking away his whole sense of agency or anything. He still has the freedom to go and do as he pleases, it's just that now he's got you looking over his shoulder, ready to jump in once he so much as STARTS overworking himself. It's gonna take him some time to get used to being doted on. Fully expect some pouty looks being thrown your way and to hear him grumbling under his breath

🥽 BUT THEN YOU START ESCALATING EVEN FURTHER?? Suddenly you're buying/making him things he needs, like new tools or equipment??? Maybe you two are out on the town one day and you spot him eyeing something through the window of one of the shops, and a few days later—

🥽 "WHOA!! WHERE'D YOU GET THAT?!"

"Oh, I just saw it the other day and thought of you! :D"

"...Babe, that's a grappling hook."

"Did I stutter?"

🥽 John Dory starts coming around to the idea of being spoiled after that lol

🥽 I'm like 99% sure everyone in the fandom agrees that this man? This guy who's been living all alone in the wilderness and probably eating insects for nutrients for like 20 years??

🥽 TOUCH-STARVED AS HELL

🥽 I mean he was already pretty touchy-feely BEFORE you started pampering him... but then you start giving him more massages (specifically back/shoulder/foot rubs)... and getting him to lay his head on your stomach/lap after a long day... and running your fingers across his scalp all the while...

🥽 Better have a mop and bucket on standby cuz if this man melts any further, he'll be a puddle ;))

🥽 Definitely starts to seek you out after he's had a bad day/been in his head too long. Lay some kisses on his forehead pretty pls <33

🥽 WORDS OF AFFIRMATION!! DROP SOME PRAISE AND COMPIMENTS ON THIS GUY!!! I mean he probably got plenty of that during his Brozone days but most of them were aimed at his looks/music

🥽 I mean he's definitely not gonna complain if you call him a hunk but I digress

Not even gonna lie to yall... When the first teaser for the movie dropped I was like "Hmm... idk if the movie's gonna as good as the last one but at least Branch's long lost brother is hot"

ALKSHDJLKJAKSD IM SORRY BUT WHY DID THEY MAKE ALL THE CHARACTERS HOT WHAT THE FUCK

[marzipanandminutiae]

Since you recently reblogged that post about women's clothing, here's what the OP said in her tags in a post about defending corsets/skirts/parasols - needless to to say your tags about them hating people who enjoy those kinda things were spot-on

-------------------------

Good fucking god.

Yeah, I read the whole post in your other ask with the link (I'm not adding it because frankly I don't need more of this horseshit in my life). It was basically them taking someone commenting on the OVERWHELMING trend in historical fiction of making all women who have anything of value to say absolutely despise Gross Icky Skirts and Corsets And (in at least one case I've seen) Parasols

(while also making them baseline Modern Feminine AttractiveTM, and that's definitely a facet of the conversation worth having, too. oh, your heroine eschews corsets because she's Liberated? funny because her tits look perfectly supported. forming cleavage, even. almost like she's. wearing a bra. and her hair, that is loose and not pinned up because Hair Up = Repression is perfectly iron-curled and magically never in her way. hmmmmm.)

and this person responded to that sarcastically like "YEP YOU'RE RIGHT IT WAS ALL FINE AND DANDY FOR 100% OF WOMEN FOREVER!!! THAT'S TOTALLY WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!!! HEEHEE I PUT YOUR POST UNDERWATER BECAUSE IT'S DUMB!!!"

which like. for the love of. just stop; that is so clearly not what was being said

as for the tags, she probably thinks she's being even-handed by acknowledging that some poor backwards souls THOUGHT they liked these things, as they were misguidedly "fighting against progress," but of course they had no other options so they didn't REALLY like any of it. which is just so infantilizing to me

look, the fight for women to be allowed to wear trousers was huge and important. because some women wanted to wear trousers! and do manual labor jobs that require wearing trousers, from which women had historically been excluded! and women who want to wear trousers should be allowed to do that; gendering Lower Half Fabric Tubes is stupid, we're all going to die, and you should adorn your meat-suit in a way that makes you feel comfortable (mentally and physically) and happy and confident!

but. it was a fight for options. it was a fight for choice. it wasn't happening because one garment was good and the other was, to quote The History of the World I Guess, an Evil Virus of Satan. did some dress reformers frame it that way? yes! because humans are human and some humans deal in absolutes! but they didn't represent All Women, any more than the ones who thought wearing trousers was scandalous did

and moreover, this is still coming at things from a baseline assumption that corsets and long skirts- and again, weirdly parasols? women weren't like required to carry parasols at all times back then; do people know that? light skin as a beauty standard is a big conversation to have, but there was no Parasol Law or anything -are universally impractical and uncomfortable. and that any woman who doesn't feel that way must be either brainwashed or intentionally impeding progress

the fact that, in a time when not only are western women are fully allowed to wear trousers but skirts and dresses are seen as inherently formal for some reason, some women STILL feel their happiest and most comfortable in them (and some people of other genders, too!) is proof that you don't have to be a mindless slave of the patriarchy to like these things. if someone came to me and said "you have to give up your skirts and burn your corset; Progress is here!" I would punch them in the face. and I'm a left-wing, feminist lesbian

nobody forced me to dress like this- in fact, society would probably rather I didn't, because it's not making fast fashion companies any money and it's not #ontrend. I grew up primarily in jeans and t-shirts like most kids, teens, and young women nowadays. I chose this completely absent any societal pressures to do so, and indeed, in the face of pressures to NOT present the way I do

and if someone can choose it without that kind of pressure...don't you think there just might have been women who would have kept wearing what they wore even with broader options available? without being Horrible Deluded Serena Joys or whatever?

also I'm sorry but claiming that modern clothes- and implicitly by the rest of the text, modern trousers in specific -have the same breathability as a natural-fiber skirt over a hoop is just hilarious. they may work better for ~your specific lifestyle~ as OP condescendingly phrases it, but wrapping your legs in plastic (or even tight-fitting cotton twill!) is just not going to have the Breeze Capabilities of putting a lampshade around your waist

...not sure why I even wrote this, since in the comments on the original post OP freely admitted that they weren't reading any rebuttals anyone wrote because "women were jailed for wearing pants [which they were sometimes! but that's not the beginning and end of the conversation!] so I don't need your paragraphs." this attitude always comes back to having set ideas about history that you're not willing to have challenged. anyway.