#im forcing myself to have an adult perspective on things

[senshibignaturalz]

Coming to terms with childhood trauma is fucking insane because yeah I knew this fucjed me up but now that I'm thinking about it why the fuck did my uncle STAY FRIENDS with my dad after seeing me start crying after he called just to yell at me??? Bro what the fuck how could you be friends with someone who does that to a 7 year old??? Insane, and then having the audacity to, now that I'm an adult, be like "oh yeah I never liked him" man u used to hang out with him of your own free will???

[anonymouscheeses]

Obvious shit I noticed part 3 (spoilers for welcome to heaven)

Look at her! "Teehee"

Also she's nervous! Foreshadowing omg 🤯

STICKERS! Two pride stickers and a cute donut. Gives me an idea to draw Chaggie at a donut shop while everything is burning down <3 (I'll probably do it but if any artist wants to as well go ahead!)

*CHOKES ON COFFEE* I LOVE THEM. I'M SORRY I GET SO GIDDY WHEN THEY HAVE EVEN THE SMALLEST INTERACTION BUT UGHHH I NEED MORE, IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH 🙏🙏

KISSY! MWA! *SCREAMS INTO THE VOID*

Vivzie give me more, moar now. MOAR

DAMN. SHE CAN THROW- or maybe it just exaggerates the perspective in this frame but still- ZAMNNN

Cherri x Sir Pentious fans RISE UP.

I wasn't ever really a fan of it myself but I always thought it was CUTE. Like 3 seconds before this part I was already begging for them to kiss 😭

More foreshadowing!

AAAAAA CREEPY BIRD THINGS!!!

Oh wait- Sera's hot and Emily's already adorable

If heaven don't look like what this is in the show, I DONT WANT IT! (THATS A JOKE PLEASE DON'T SMITE ME)

JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND VAGGIE!! Can I just say how much I love Vaggie's face expressions? Not just here but like all the time. She's just made to be so exaggerated, out of all of them I thought it would be Charlie who would have the most dramatic faces but Vaggie wins it for me. I JUST GIGGLE SO HARD WHEN SHE LOOKS LIKE THIS BAHAHAH

Okay yeah. It's very obvious now. Vaggie is definitely an ex-exterminator. They don't close in on Charlie here so it's made to subtly nudge the attention to Vaggie. HOW DID THEY IMMEDIATELY NOTICE IT WAS HER THO??

Hot-

That's it.

SHARE THAT MOTHUSSY GIRL-

YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE GREW OUT ALL OF THAT HAIR?!? YEAH ITS BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE THEN BUT STILL AJJSJD.

But overall the design is pretty meh. I always loved the idea of short hair Vaggie and even have seen art of it but it's just yknow, alright. Reminds me of Cassandra from Tangled: the series. IM LISTENING TO ONE OF THE SONGS RIGHT NOW HELPPP

THIS SCENE HERE! WOOOOO! SO GLAD WE KNOW WHEN AND WHERE THEY FIRST MET!! Wish we got it extended tho. And also probably push it to next episode so it would have a better impact(atleast I think thats when they'll have the duet). BUT WHATEVER SOMETHING IS BETTER THAN NOTHING! or uh whatever

Vaggie must've been a bit terrified at first. The only sinner she ever sent mercy to was a child. Then to see someone who to her is an adult sinner who just looks really human, that must be crazy. BUT THEN IF SHE WAS TOLD THAT CHARLIE WAS ACTUALLY THE PRINCESS OF HELL? HOOOO, LOCK IN AND STEAL HER. THAT'S SOME WATTPAD SHIT. Also, I wonder how long Charlie thought of redeeming sinners. It would make sense to be after meeting Vaggie, since it could have been a wake up call to the fact not all sinners are bad people. Even though Vaggie isn't a sinner technically, Charlie didn't know that at the time. But maybe Charlie was always like this but just needed to meet someone who could start her dream with her. Long rant uhhh

Haha penis 🫵

SCRAP WHATEVER I SAID IN THE FIRST PART. THEY PROBABLY DO FUCK- OR DONT?? I DONT KNOW- ANYWAY LESBIAN SEX (BOTTOM TEXT). WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH??? SOMEONE PULL THE TRIGGER.

Lute looks like a basic asf anime gorl. Adam doesn't ever take his helmet off, or maybe he just can't. OH HE'S DOING THE GAY SIGN 💅💅 Very appropriate for what he's saying

Mentor, apprentice. I love that Husk is just trying to help Angel grow but isn't going to force him into it if he doesn't want to.

Im not a fan of huskerdust and think they'd be better friends as I can't imagine a relationship with them at all. But it's still nice and they are supportive of eachother so that's like- yknow. Basic rules. Or something like that. (HELP. I ruined it all at the last part)

I- girl- WHY IS SHE GROWLING?? GRR GRR RR (INSERT TWILIGHT SAGA HERE)

VAGGIE'S FACE. SENDS ME. WHO GAVE HER THESE OVERDRAMATIC EXPRESSIONS, I APPLAUD YOU RGAGAGA

Ooo... I didnt like this part at all... Instead of making the choice she just runs off. Then because the plot demands it, Adam says nothing. Kinda whish she atleast avoided the question, maybe in some way that would require actual thinking? For a character like Vaggie, she could choose either way and it feel like it's still her. If she chose to protect Charlie's dream, she would still be perfectly loyal to her but in the act of so would reveal a secret that could harm their relationship(which does happen at the end but that's because the plot wanted it like that). If she chose to side with Adam, she'd be hurting Charlie emotionally, sure, but it would keep a secret that could make Charlie see Vaggie less than who she is to her already(atleast what Vaggie might think would happen). Imo it should've been her deciding to protect Charlie, since it would mean she's devoted to her at all times.

ANOTHER THING! IF SHE COULDN'T MAKE THE CHOICE, THAT IS SOMETHING INTERESTING TO GO INTO. Maybe it could go deeper into how Vaggie doesn't know who she is without Charlie. So when she has a choice to make, like here, she can't do it without feeling the need to ask Charlie. BUT NOOO, YA HAD TO GO WITH THIS!! Wow. That was a long ass rant. Wtf 😭

Maybe I'm a dumbass. Maybe they'll talk about that next episode, but still, atleast touch on it a bit to not seem rushed?

Angel looking out for his kids like a mom. We always did need the motherly figure, the one closest to that being Charlie but girl needs a mother in her life too(damn, wait, I did her so dirty).

Huh, so why does it work here then? 🤨🤨 if it was said in the contract that Valentino can do whatever he wants only in the studio, then why is this the exception? 🤨🤨

Yes I'm stupid. Why do you ask? (No genuinely what's happening here)

OH ITS THE IMAGE! I really like Sera so far, hope we get more of her soon or in season 2.

Now that we know the context of this, yeah, that's fucking insane. And badass. WOMEN.

HMM. THATS STRANGE. DID YOU NOT FOR ONCE THINK THERE COULD BE A POSSIBILITY SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN AN ANGEL? Okay I probably wouldn't either but I have an excuse, I'm an idiot. Some girl with a standing out outfit, with one eye, looks unusually human, right after/during the extermination... that's pretty solid ass proof. But I'm dumb so don't take anything i say seriously :D

Imagine this. No- shit. Just-

JUST LOOK! THEY ARE SO CUTE! EVEN THOUGH CRAZY SHIT IS HAPPENING.

*SWEATS*

Vaggie is DESPERATE. PLEADING. That's obvious yeah, but don't mind me I had nothing to say for the last 3 images I just thought they were cool

I mean. Slay I guess. 😍💅

Do all the exterminators look similar or is it just Lute and Vaggie? 🤨

Even though Vaggie and Charlie may be going through this horrible thing with a hard punch in the gut, but Vaggie is always going to comfort her and I just think that's so adorable.

Also Adam looks like a chicken hah.

Everyone fears to be like Lucifer. If they don't do bad things they believe are for the greater good and make sacrifices that put them higher than those in hell, they could themselves be fallen. It's really interesting but I don't know if it's going to be fleshed out enough with the amount of episodes left. Which also worries me about everything else that still hasn't be concluded. There's gonna be loose strings I just know it. Hopefully though they rather do that then rush everything out y'know?

I want the next episode to be mostly focused on Vaggie and Charlie's relationship and the healing of what happened. Not for the entire episode of course, it would feel drawn out if it did, but atleast address the problem for the first like I would say 10 minutes? Then the rest would focus on one or two loose threads while also having Vaggie and Charlie acting upon moving on. That's just my idea but yeah-

[femmesandhoney]

Am I wrong for feeling like its possible to recognise the double stands between male and female rappers, having utmost respect for women like MTS, but for also feeling it’s fine to think songs like WAP don’t do women any favours, find it kind of offensive and that it’s ridiculous women (especially black women) feel like they have to make that kind of music?

I just don’t think men consider songs like WAP to be a gotcha, they just see it as soft porn? Women should be able to make music about whatever they like but until we’re out of the patriarchy I just don’t think songs like WAP will be seen as just another song about sex, and won’t be appreciated for the work/time put into it by the artist as it should be.

I don't listen to many popular female rappers, then ones I do listen to are much more obscure, since yeah they usually are hypersexual in their lyrics and videos as many popular female artists are. I think female artists are allowed to be sexual in their art and music, like they're adults they can write songs about basic human things, but its a fine line between oversexualization as your entire branding of yourself that men will see at face value and never care about anything else. it makes me sick seeing how many of her male contempories obviously don't respect megan and will do anything to tear her down in their songs, for example, and its likely bc shes a black woman singing about her sexuality unashamed as the focal point of her music. I think songs like WAP and similar are always never not gonna be about sex though, theres not other ways to spin a lot of those songs lol. Like yes there was effort put into making it, but it is just another song about heterosexual sex at the end of the day. Like ofc men won't take that seriously, they take nothing of women's sexuality seriously in a state where men want and use sex to dominate women in their eyes.

ofc then the question you pose and spin from it is if its even worthwhile to have music like that from a feminist perspective, i would say no. the songs really don't help women look better in the eyes of the patriarchy, but at the same time its a libfem take of feminism in that singing unashamed of her sexuality is empowering. radfems would look at it less kindly, considering how much of her music is just her wanting to fuck men (and correct me if im wrong, im using megan as an example and don't listen to her much), and it does make me cringe once I realize just how many songs of hers are like that. similar reason for why i dislike sabrina carpenter too, i just cannot stand when a female artists entire repertoire is constantly sexual and focused on men 99.9% of the time w little introspection or a break from the sexual themes and sexual branding/marketing of themselves.

theres more i could say, but idk i feel im not expressing myself with this topic how i want to, but to round it out i agree theres obviously gonna be a double standard within rap between men and women when women are forced to present as sexual as possible to sell their art and i hate the libfem branding of over-hyper/sexualization as a form of empowerment for women, especially as a means to fame that no man will or ever have to deal with and be told to do to sell their music and art.

[weebsinstash]

the overturning of Roe v Wade happened and pregnancy felt disgusting and a physical threat to be defeated

I felt that. I an asexual person with zero intention of getting married or having a baby but seeing Roe v Wade, I just... feel the need to have my tubes tied? Which should not even be a thing I consider since I have no plans to have sex. Those radical religious/misogynisitc views that are popping up nowadays just make me feel very disgusted at things that are... Really not horrible. Nothing wrong about being a housewife, or getting pregnant, but the way those incels with a mic talk about women in their podcasts just create very unhealthy relationships between women and "womanhood"/traditionally feminine things.

What's so fucked up is like the exact same people saying shit like "oh these gross LGBTQRSTUV alphabet mafia freaks are trying to groom and molest our kids! How dare they try to say kids need to learn about safe sex and periods and not to send nudes or address sex in any way other than abstinence!" will then turn around say "wow, asexuals? How UNNATURAL. You aren't PROCREATING like GOD INTENDED. You're ALSO somehow grooming our kids" and it's just like. Fuck. Leave people alone about their fucking sexuality and gender presentation.

And then sometimes I try to discuss this with my mom because like we discuss politics a lot and she's, you know, a woman and has raised me and ill seek her perspective as my mom and a woman and an adult, and sometimes she'll just be "oh don't read all that, youre getting upset over trolls, people are just stupid" ok well these stupid people can VOTE and sometimes these stupid people ARE the ones we're voting for!!! Like! I'm so tired of seeing bullshit like Americans saying "haha good on Country XYZ for making it legal to beat those t slurs in public, this is just MODERN WESTERN PROPAGANDA" and I want to scream shit like "India has recognized trans people for over 3000 years you fucking bigoted moron"

Like!!! Ugh!! Should I be furious or sad!!! (Putting the rest under a rm because this gets a little long and I also discuss abortion/miscarriage)

Fucking idiots saying shit like "oh just use birth control there's like 30 kinds" and guess what motherfucker literally the only 100% effective ones involve SURGERY. Even my OWN MOTHER got pregnant on a diaphragm. Fuck you! Fuck you! You think abortions are being used as birth control? I know at least two people who've had them and they can be ABSOLUTELY EXCRUCIATING, I am talking SCREAMING TO STOP THE PROCEDURE KINDS OF PAIN. "Oh women just want to avoid accountability" bitch some of them don't want to DIE, some of them can't raise a disabled child, some of them have diseases and conditions that can't be passed on

I... may have had some risky sex a while back with, minor precautions, ok I'll be the dumb irresponsible slut and say the pull out method was used, and while nothing came of that, obviously, literally my game plan after it happened and post nut clarity hit was "ok well I know if I need an abortion there are people who literally terrorize you outside the clinics so maybe I'll just kill myself". And you know what, I wasn't even intending to do that kind of thing, the unsafe sex, it was just, you know, happened fast and in the heat of the moment, and it happened briefly. Even I, as someone who has never wanted children and FEARED motherhood all my life, made that kind of mistake. And I spent the following three weeks in absolute TERROR waiting for my period, thinking of all the people who would happily force me to carry a child that would no doubt inherit my physical disability, my genetic disorders, and wouldn't be wanted by me or the father (and im not saying that as anything against him we are both very anti kid lol)

It's so upsetting because like, people have different opinions, and in some cases can you really say if an opinion is right or wrong? But so often do I see things that are inhumane, grotesque even. I was reading a story of a woman who was forced to carry a malformed fetus to a full pregnancy where it passed that same day. Here you have a woman who was forced to deliver what was essentially a corpse, the trauma that must have caused her, not just in mind but also in body. 9 months, 9 months of knowing it was being born just to die. And. People were legitimately replying "better that than to be ripped limb from limb inside the womb" that's a specific form of third trimester abortion which wasn't even what she was asking for you fucking idiot. "Better for the baby to know its mother's touch" it literally didn't have a properly formed brain and we don't even know if it could have even SENSED anything besides agony. "I would have wanted to hold my baby before it passed" you would have let a fetus which had abnormalities discovered in the first trimester to fully develop into a child so it could die in horrible pain just for your moral closure?

I read a comment just a few days ago that was legitimately one of the most disgusting things I had ever read and dear God I hope this person was lying but they said "I know a catholic woman who was pregnant and found out her baby would be born terminal and die shortly after birth. She carried it the full pregnancy so she could baptize it" THAT'S ABHORRENT. For you non religious folk, which I am too but I have some secondhand knowledge, the point of baptism is the idea that we are all born into sin and must be like cleansed to be children of God or something like that. And to be blunt I consider this woman an absolute monster and I replied as such.

"She let a newborn baby suffer in agony just so she could dip it in her magic fairy water? And she thinks she's the GOOD GUY?"

It's just. Ugh. I don't even know. I use culture and country as an excuse for religious freedom and sexual and gender expression (ie. Banning trans people from being visible is prejudiced to Indians, Native Americans, Samoans, Judaism, etc) but then people turn around and say "but it's my culture or religion to be homophobic/not allow abortion" and then I just want to say "well you're just an idiot who can't think for themselves then and you need to get with the fucking times :)" like obviously I am not perfect but I believe basic human rights transcends borders and beliefs. Like for example, similar but different, Malaysia is about to literally hang a man just for having a kilo of weed and people are happily saying "don't do the crime if you can't do the time" and its like do you understand it's inherently problematic to just say "their country, their rules" right. Like some places use that as an excuse to keep forms of slavery. Like to circle the argument back around states rights was an argument to try and keep slavery and now states rights is being used as an argument to criminalize abortion?

Like I try not to bring the vibe here down too often but these conversations are important. We as human beings should be helping and protecting each other and I feel a legitimate fear of society approaching some sort of social collapse or civil war. Like even if you're opposed to abortion you should actually still be voting in favor of keeping abortion because, if abortion is outlawed on moral and religious grounds, it will start the ball rolling for banning other medical procedures out of opinion and not fact. You know we already let the insurance companies do that right? Tell people their life savinf treatment isn't covered because they don't deem it medically necessary even though insurance agents arent doctors? Even on my main blog I boosted a post about a person with severe endometriosis who is being denied a hysterectomy because of their weight by the NHS but a private clinic will save them for a price, and meanwhile the endo is impacting organs outside their reproductive system

It's just. God. I'm sorry I guess I went all over the place in this post but everything is so scary now. Transphobia is on the rise, homophobia, racism, gun violence, they keep finding horrible child labor shit like 15 year olds cleaning slaughterhouses, even in my current blue state, red senators are arguing we should let young teens do construction, they're changing legislation on healthcare, on the internet, on student loans, inflation is HUGE NOW, rent is skyrocketing, homelessness is rising, just

It can be hard to keep your head up you know? I try not to be a doom and gloomer but there's legitimately scary shit happening? Like I didn't even touch on climate change and how all of these issues are going to intersect and snowball until our entire species is fucked. I know what I'm voting in 2024 but, it doesn't make anything less terrifying. If we weren't protected before, if we still really aren't now, can we really trust it to happen in the future?

[mugeesworld]

Women

Little disclaimer: I've never got good grades in English. So this might not make sense/suck. Before you read this I would like you to know. This is not me shitting on men. This is not me shitting on every other gender. This is simply me telling what my definition/view on women is. If you take the time to read this I hope you enjoy. Ty.

This is literally just me blabbing about how women a beautiful and the shitty beauty standard.

A plural noun for: woman

Woman

Pronounced as: wom-an/ woomen

an adult female human being.

Synonymous/Similar: lady, adult female, female

If you couldn't tell by reading it, the few words above me is what is considered the definition to describe a woman/women.

It's not wrong. I would be crazy to say that the dictionary it's self is wrong, but that being said...

The few words labeled above to describe a woman to me are simply not enough. As it is correct, no words can truly describe what a woman is. For a woman is described differently by different people. Every persons perspective on what a women is, is different. Even by the smallest of detail.

But obviously I can't read minds and come up with a conclusion of the "true" definition myself.

But what I can do is share how I see the beautiful beings we call women. Not only as one, but as someone that also finds them attractive and appreciates them.

Women are elegant, gorgeous, even god like beings. Coming in all different forms. Ranging from different skin colors, to different body types. Those being their most obvious features at a first glance but really taking the time to savior and take in their elegance you can see that every single one has something truly special about them.

Every single one.

That being said every single woman is beautiful. The true definition of beauty it's self. Something so breathtaking and gorgeous that it is hard to hold eye contact or stare cause they are just radiating beems of light and beauty. But still staring at cause you can't bring yourself to look away. Scared that you will never see true beauty such as ones self ever again.

I can't imagine looking at a woman and thinking in my head that she is ugly. Out of jealousy or hate? Maybe. But I know that's not being honest with myself. To look at a woman and say such a thing is nothing but utter nonsense. Cause every single one is beautiful. No just for their looks. Not just cause they have a "curvy" figure. But because they are truly beautiful inside and out.

They might say hurtful things. But that's just a act. That's a self defense mechanism cause someone told them other wise. Someone lied to them so they say and act in such hurtful ways.

Beautiful women come in all shapes and sizes. From short and skinny, tall and muscular, or medium hight and plus size. Even though they have visible difference in their appearance they all share at least one thing in common. They are all beautiful women. Damn right they are. They should be proud to be also.

Cause the word woman it's self has been used as a insult for ages.

"Stop acting like a girl"

"You scream like a girl"

"It's not very woman like to-"

Etc

It's ok to act like a girl. It's ok to scream like a girl. That being said it's ok to not "act like a girl"

Cause the average girl has been stereotyped to be weak, small, frail, shy, vulnerable. It's ok to be those things but it's not ok to try and be those things. To force yourself to follow said stereotypes. Cause that's not you. You don't have to be all those things for validation.

And if you've been told that you need to then im here to tell you that you fucking don't. You're perfect. No matter what. No matter your looks or personality. You don't have to change to fit these ridiculous stereotypes. I can not preach that enough.

Who gives a fuck if you don't have a "beach body" or the perfect Kim Kardashian figure. EVERY BODY IS A BEACH BODY. Kim is pretty don't get me wrong but so are you. You know why? You should by now by I'll tell you again. Because you are you. You are different. You are special. For the love of fucking god. I feel like a lawyer try to state my case to the jury. Your honor my client is the most gorgeous person ever that's all I gotta say!

These fucking standards to be short and skinny and curvy are utter bullshit. Do you know who made those standards??? Do you? Fat old men. Trust me. Why in the hell should you care what a old man that's gonna die soon anyways think about your body.

And let me tell you something. This things we have that's called being "attractive" is bull crap. Cause all over the world. Their are different standards that are set. That you have to be this or you have to be that to be considered beauty.

Beauty to me is something that makes a person special. What makes them different? Are they trying to fit this standard or are they truly being themselves and having that special feature show. Cause if they do have that special thing showing its easy to walk up to any person and point out what Makes them special and different from the rest. It's like a game to me. Instead of just people watching. Look at a person and see if you can see something special about them.

Beauty is accomplished by being yourself. Around the world people go through crazy, sometimes torturous methods to be "beautiful"

To crushing your feet to be as small as a child's.

To have rings around your neck

To have a big gauge in your lip

I seen one yesterday that they make children starting at very very young ages eat insane amounts of food to make them gain weight. Forcing they to indulge in crazy portions. So they can find a husband when they are older. Cause being fat is the "beauty standard" for them.

If you think that's wrong then what makes it ok to flip that around and not eat. To torture your body by not giving it the nutritionts it needs to live. What Makes that so bad but what we are doing ok???

I could go on and on (this isn't me hating on cultures at all. This is me explaining that "beauty" is a mere goal that is set. I understand completely that it's tradition for some tribes and cultures. It's non of my business and ik not hating. Once again just a example.)

If you don't get it yet the beauty standard is a myth. It's something that is set to torture and brain wash you into thinking you have to be a certain way to be perceived as beautiful.

So why are you doing this to yourself? Why don't you make your own perception of beauty. I do. I explained mine. That everyone is beautiful in their own way that makes them who they are.

So why don't you just be you? Please tell me.

I know what I've said can be controversial but it's my opinion and I hope you can respect it. Actually. I don't care if you respect it or agree with it. Cause it's my definition. It's my true thoughts.

What's your definition of women and beauty?

I hope you enjoyed reading this if you got this far. And I hope if you don't already, understand that you deserved to be loved. You deserve to be cherished. You are beauty. You are you. No matter what. So please don't change that. Not for anyone. You're valid. In every way possible. And if you haven't heard it today yet then.... I love you and I'm glad such a beautiful person such as your self breaths the same air as me. So thank you. Thank you for being you and walking the same earth as I do. You rock.

I'm very embarrassed to post this. But. I'll leave you with this:

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i think yaz&ryan and ryan&graham shouldve had episodes like the black spot or the girl who waited that centered their relationship and made them count on each other to save them, where like the doctor gets out from between them whether thats received well (black spot) or not so much (girl who waited)

i mean i can imagine graham might have some thoughts and feelings about the way the doctor - the other ostensible adult in the room - handles ryan and yazs - the kids' - safety. hes responsible for ryan and i can imagine he probably extends that feeling to yaz as like an honourary second grandkid

i would pay to see graham confront the doctor à la rory "you make people a danger to themselves" and "this isnt fair. youre turning me into you" (smth smth im one of the few who wont turn myself into you so you force me to idk not the point) not about the same subject of course but something like,,, well like you cant keep them safe

i think a lot abt like how graham literally doesnt have the skills or knowledge to keep ryan and yaz safe in alien environments so he has to count on the doctor for that. he cant do a whole lot of his own risk assessment in situations hes never been in before so he has to trust the doctor's are right. and from s12 onward it becomes clearer that sometimes shes Irrational As Fuck and when it's sometimes then it might be all the times and you have no way to gauge that and no way to mitigate it like shes going a little bit insane in front of your eyes and you still have to trust shes thinking clearly enough that she can keep the kids safe youre responsible for. like at what point do you just stop risking it and take them home?

in canon obvs graham never stops risking it but i think it would be really interesting if there was an episode where it's a bit too close and he confronts the doctor about that. about the fact that like, if youre denying everything you might be feeling then youre not gonna account for how those feelings might be affecting your decisions or perceptions. and then the doctor will freak out about being Abandoned and cover that up too so shes gonna say smth stupid and fucked up and diagonal like i just wanna see it. i just think it would be neat

and i want to see how like yaz&ryans friendship and ryan&grahams relationship would develop/change under stress and out of earshot/perspective of the doctor. like we get a lot of that - ryan and yaz on the veranda in australia or that time in tsuranga or the end of can you hear me - but i think it would be soooo cool to have like at least one episode just dedicated to each of those relationships. an episode where the doctor is,,,not an antagonist really but like, where we get to see their perspective, their situation, their relationship as its own thing that the doctor is not a part of

[quaranmine]

alright, stats time. numbers! percentages! analysis!

GO ME! i finished my writing challenge last night. though i have done them before, i have never had a 30 day streak--my longest was 11 days, previously.

NANOWRIMO "GOAL": 50k words in a month. lol nope i didn't even plan to do that but that's the perspective i'm putting the post in

MY GOAL: add 30k to IBW.

fail. i added 5.2k to IBW in the end, the equivalent of finishing just one chapter. basically, I completed 17% of my goal. not something I'm happy about but i did inevitably mostly get past a thing that was giving me trouble.

MY SECOND GOAL: add 30k aggregated to any projects

total word count: 21,366. that's techinically a fail but i'm not gonna count it because i reached 70% of my target wordcount AND THAT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!! 70 is a passing grade afterall :] if we want to put this in perspective of nano, i basically completed 40% of nano, which is great for a first-ever run (especially since i have never completed a 50k fic so far, let alone in a month. baby steps for me, i just do not write that quickly.)

MY THIRD GOAL: write something every day

SUCCESS! i did do that and i am very proud of it. it was shockingly hard sometimes. during the challenge i was like "i am never doing this again" and now literally less than a day after im like "hm i should do this again next year!" why am i like this? who knows!

So, let's look at other stats.

Number of fics worked on: four. (IBW, grumbot fic mainly, hitchhiker's au, and tumble town gothic)

Fanfic started and completed within the month: do you see no ghosts in me at all? (13,651 words). This means that ~64% of my time was spent on this fanfic, compared to any others (if we go by word count, as i don't remember which days specifically were used on this versus the others)

Average daily wordcount: 712 words. again, to reach the 30k goal i needed roughly 1k on average per day, so this is again about 70% of that. It is worth noting that my average for my last writing challenge in the spring was 548, so I did much better on average this month despite being forced to do it in a much longer streak. that's probably because the 0 wordcount days in the last challenge dragged the average down, so writing every day helped me a lot.

Lowest daily WC: 131

Highest daily WC: 1897

i think both of those were the same fic actually (grumbot fic.) the low wordcounts mostly represented lack of time, as i would stop writing whenever it got so late that i started falling asleep midsentence. however low wordcounts on IBW mostly represent lack of inspiration, except for the day 30, where it represented research.

all in all, i think it was a successful challenge. i'm still in writing mode and was already thinking about what i could do tonight, which is great because like...i am no longer beholden to this challenge but am still wanting to keep going (i'll just likely not force myself to do anything anymore if it's like 11:30pm and i havent done anything. i will just go to bed instead.)

the main lesson here is that i can Do Things when i want to really force myself to do, which is good because i often doubt my own abilities especially in connection with my writing. it's very personal compared to other stuff i do, so i very much love and appreciate everybody's support and kind reviews because i straight up would not be here or doing any of this without you. like i would have just gone back to hide under a rock lol.

i feel like completing these challenges gives me a lot more confidence in myself and my abilities, and gives me momentum to make consistent progress on my works even when things are a little rough. sometimes in writing you just Gotta Do It even if there isnt much inspiration, because it'll unlock the way for other scenes where you DO have inspiration.

now then. if someone can tell me why i was able to fully complete inktober for two years in a row, and pull off two of these writing challenges in one year, but CAN'T stick with actual responsible adult habits--

[jet-bradley]

i really fundamentally do not understand harry potter fans who defend their childhood self's right to like a book.

like--and please know im not trying to traumadump, i feel ambivalent about this--the things i went through as a kid caused me to forget huge pieces of being a kid. i know a lot of stuff happened to me that i have 0 emotional connection to and i cant place myself in my own shoes and recall or even imagine what it was like to be in those situations. so if childhood me liked harry potter--and i know xe did, because "i" pulled an all-nighter with a friend waiting for pottermore's release, and was very strongly opinionated about the books and movies--that doesnt really. affect me now. because im a different person.

and i dont think that's trauma, i think trauma forced me to speedrun that process of growing into a different person, but everyone does the same thing. you might keep a passion or two as you age but overall you should lose connection to a lot of your childhood interests as you age.

the big difference is that when i look at my life now, and my life as a kid, i don't know that i'd go back to being a kid. opening doors to my memories of being a kid can trigger really fucking bad symptoms. so i don't do it. because being a kid, maybe i didn't have as many responsibilities, but i also didn't have any agency and i don't want to give up what i've accomplished for myself as an adult. i don't regret that my childhood will never be back; i take comfort in it. it's helped me accept letting go of a lot of things from when i was younger easier.

so when i look at harry potter fans who refuse to let go of something that keeps marginalized people from existing in public--yes, even if you buy merch from etsy and pirate the movies--because it "reminds them of their childhood"? yeah they are speaking from an alternate dimension to me. i can't even really summarize what the difference in perspective is here. it's not just that they're determined to hang onto a period of time that's never coming back, it's that they'd want it back in the first place. like, must... be nice? idk.

[the-resurrection-3d]

hey mootie craziest ask ever but do u have any General writing tips bc on god. i have ideas i iust Cannot sequence them or put them on Technological paper im at a loss here

Oh for sure! This post ended up being rather long, but I wanted to be thorough -- feel free to let me know if I need to re-clarify something.

Anyway!

Usually, I have to write myself into the good writing -- by which I mean I begin a session with essentially artist's warm-ups, such as scribbling out a few words about the images that are coming to me, or starting my first sentence with some throwaway introductory phrase like "Thinking about..." and then describing the thing in whatever barebones form comes out -- "and then X, and then Y," and so on. It's not pretty writing by any means, but once I have those creative energies flowing, eventually I'll start to naturally slip in more description, more emotion, even dialogue. The "real" opening of the story is usually not the opening you first write -- Anne Lamott in her book Bird by Bird, for instance, mentions that, in her drafts for her three-page food reviews, her real opening usually was on page two of the first draft. I've had essays published where I had to literally revise every single sentence that was not a quotation from somebody else. By the end of last semester, I was struggling so badly to finish some first drafts of my final papers that I legitimately could barely finish my sentences. I'd write down half a thought, hit the enter key, and start a different thought entirely.

Which leads me into my main point, which is getting a draft done by any means necessary. To be as blunt as possible: you can't edit shit you didn't write. To quote the dancer Martha Graham:

"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, not how it compares with other expression. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open."

So I have first drafts littered with Wikipedia summary-tier scene descriptions, huge quotes from other writers, half-baked ideas, completely context-less dialogue, and even abrupt swaps between first, third, and second person, because nothing else matters but simply getting it done. This is not to say I never edit as I write, but you have to give yourself the leeway to write bullshit. (For longer projects, @bettsfic in her most recent newsletter discusses writing out a "gauge" to figure out the project's writing style before committing to it, saying that:

in knitting, a gauge is a square you knit before you begin a project to make sure you’ll end up with the dimensions you intended. that way, a sweater you meant for a grown-ass adult doesn’t become a baby sweater by accident. a gauge makes sure you’re using the right yarn and the right needles so you don’t have to unravel the whole thing and start over.

Thus, she says she writes and rewrites the first chapter however many times it takes to find a perspective and "voice" that works so she won't have to, say, change an entire novel from past to present tense-- I dunno how long your ideas would be, but this could be helpful, too.)

Since you mentioned sequencing, I'll admit I also struggle with that a lot, so I find writing out of order pretty necessary. Once you actually have more story material out in front of you, though, thematic threads become more apparent and sequences can start to suggest themselves. Tying themes to specific reoccurring actions and symbols can also suggest organization, both on the more global story level and the more microscopic sentence-by-sentence level. The 5+1 fanfic form is a great example of this.

John McPhee goes way more in-depth with this thematic organization idea here, though he's talking specifically about narrative nonfiction. Peter Elbow also discusses in "Collage: Your Cheating Art" that, if you have a fragmentary draft of an essay, you can always essentially use it to reverse-engineer a more "professional" outline. Again, not fiction strictly, but I use the same principle a lot (alongside Kurt Vonnegut's suggestion to start my short stories as close to the ending as I possibly can, lollll).

If you have a general sense of what plot/genre you'd like to write, you can also try what I've seen Brandon Sanderson call scaffolding, wherein you look at the basic plot beats and structure of a novel in your genre and essentially use it as the traced deviantART anime base on which to design your new OC. You don't have to be completely beholden to that plot structure, of course, but this can be a great way to cheat-start making an outline or first draft.

I tend go back and forth between collage and scaffolding since I'm a mess, lol. After the draft is done (or even just 80-90% done, because sometimes I know I'm not finished, but I won't know exactly what to finish until I'm into the revision process), I find it particularly helpful to print out my drafts and physically cut them up and rearrange them into lines and piles, so I can test the flow of certain sequences more easily than on a screen.

I was flipping through my copy of Bird by Bird while I was writing this, and I think I'll end this (very ramblingly) post with a small but encouraging quote from it:

I hope that helps! It's 2:47 am right now, lol, so I apologize if this is at all messy or a little scattered.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

from an anon, about parents and school

(it's just long, that's why it's under a break XD)

here's my proposition: make parents understand that not every child should conform to whatever traditional career paths that exist. as an asian, i could feel the pressure to take science like a fucking boulder on my body. i have to rant a bit.

i am the younger sibling, my brother is two years elder to me. i was never instilled any curiosity in anything science related, i was kinda left all by myself lol. my brother tho, maybe because he was older or because he was a guy (yeah LMFAO), was encouraged AND involved in a LOT of coding, mechanix (its a construct-ur-own-stuff thing).

i guess i never really noticed until i was leaving middle school, that i was not as smart as him, and would probably never be. but i had other strengths he didnt have. i love writing, im pretty good at it. i am analytical and subejctive, i like thinking and making conclusions about things. i mean i guess i've figured out what i could be better at, right? but the problem?

its that my parents dont see it. its as if they dont know me or they DO know me and are just forcing the things they need onto me. it feels selfish of them to completely forgo my actual strengths. like YES OK i UNDERSTAND i can never be as smart as my brother, but u dont have to pretend like i can. because pretending that i can achieve whatever he has, is just going to affect YOU. because i have accepted long ago that some things arent for me.

they think i dont want to put effort into anything i do. that im lazy and want the easy way out. god, every time they say this i want to honestly show them that its the things IM interested in, where i put in the work. its so belittling.

ive written articles abt bts, their music, about how carl jungs theory of archetypes and i occasionally ask a lot of questions about the world to you (hi lol). i just dont get why they want me to waste energy on something im clearly uninterested in.

short answer, point to BTS and say, "They're Asian, they make tons of money. Leave me alone."

just kidding XD

If I'm being serious, I don't think they will change their mind. They will continue to force their ideals onto you, because they believe in certain career paths had assured success and that is what they are after. They either want you to make a certain amount of money, have a certain status in life, or simply know that you can obtain a stable job. To be honest, these are not really traditional career paths at all if you think about it. Becoming a doctor takes many, many years and it is hard ass work. Parents just make it seem as if these are the only jobs available to you, even if you know it's not true.

Men vs women in Asian countries, well, I feel everyone knows this, but many Asian parents born in their respective countries put more effort into their sons than daughters. Firstborn son? He probably walks on water to them XD

I understand what you mean when you say your parents do not understand. This might sound egotistical (it does now that I'm writing it, I am very sorry) but I was the one in my family who got the best grades. None of my siblings got better grades than me (basically I had a 4.0 from middle school to university), and do you think with all that I would be immune?

Nope.

I am good at the sciences and I am good at the humanities as well. I had an interest in reading, writing, and drawing. Reading fiction, I could pass it off to educate myself. Writing? I could pass it off as something for school. But drawing?

Woo, boy.

This was a constant fight. I do not back down (a rebel, wcyd) and I drew and it would get ripped apart. I drew and it would get torn up and thrown away. I drew and and would be beaten, yelled at, constantly belittled for my interest in it even though I was good at the sciences and math. To my mom (my dad doesn't count, he had zero interest in parenting) - if she did not think it was going to make money in the future, it was useless. If I could not spin it into profit, I should not be doing it (very fun childhood I had, yes). The most ironic thing is, after I became an adult, she suggested I start drawing again and sell it to make money.

Hello?

You literally forced me to stop drawing because you constantly connected it with negativity???

(not now, I have since stopped talking to her and started drawing again and it is purely for myself, not to show anyone else, I do not even post it on social media or show anyone irl)

Not saying your parents will act like mine, btw, only sharing my experience.

The idea that you'll never be as smart as your brother? That's bullshit lol. That's like saying intelligence is only valuable if it's science or math, which, as you know, is not true. You are you. He is himself. It is not you cannot do those things. It is that those things are not what you want to focus on. You have a limited amount of time in this life and you have chosen the things you want to delve into and explore.

You don't have to be good at everything. Everything is just not good enough for you.

I am of the mindset that you should try and learn everything you can about this world. I love learning, personally. I think knowing everything I know, from the humanities to the sciences, enriches my life and gives me a broader perspective.

But I totally understand how you feel, because being pushed into something makes you end up hating it. Parents push their kids to learn this or that and kids end up resenting schoolwork because it doesn't feel like something they wanna do anymore. It's just adults yapping in their ears and it feels pointless. Grades aren't everything. You think anyone cares that I aced Physics with Calculus I and II as an adult? LMAO, no one gives a shit. You passed, good enough XD

Here's how I think you should treat school. It's not the content that matters. It's you understanding how you learn each subject. Every subject is different and how you learn them is different. It is not because you are bad at the subject, it is because you haven't figured out the best learning style for you. Teachers have to teach a mass of students and, yes, I understand this seems very tedious to have to "teach yourself".

The skill in learning to learn becomes so, so valuable as an adult. It is how you maintain interest in things, how you develop new interests, and how will come to find meaning (in whatever you want to focus on finding meaning for). I'm not saying that you will be able to find your perfect learning style in every subject, but I am encouraging you to simply see it in that light.

And, you might find certain things to be not that important to you, in which case, just pass the class, it's totally fine if it's not going to help you for the career path you're going for XD Nobody asks me about the themes of William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" (tbh, a pair of overdramatic loons) or how I feel about Sigmund Freud (actually a twat, but that's neither here nor there).

Let them talk. That one that walks your path is you. Focus on what you want to focus on. They are set in their ways and they way to show them there are different paths is to walk them.

[mr-and-mr-dameron]

Learning to love ALL of Star Wars

I’ve grown a lot the past few years, and with that I’ve came to appreciate a lot more things about what I love. I’ve went from bitter and spiteful about what I don't have to appreciating what I do have, and at the centre of that storm is Star Wars. A franchise I’ve only really been invested in the last year. 

The beginning

So I was always a “fan” of Star Wars, sure. I grew up with the prequels and I was excited when Disney was releasing their new movies. But the past year is where I really got invested and found a whole new love for the franchise. And strangely enough, it was through the simplicity of Lego.  You see, I started watching videos by Brickvault about Lego Star Wars minifigures, and something about seeing the toys I loved as a kid from a modern perspective took me right back to wooshing my Jedi starfighter around my room. From there, I started moving away from Lego and dipped my toe in theories, lore videos and eventually discussion and review videos, the turning point being Cosmonaught Variety Hour.  Now, I have some opinions on the guy now, but Cosmonaught was perfect for me at the time. He was opinionated, entertaining, but most importantly knew his shit, and I liked that. His videos on Star Wars are pretty good, and really helped form my opinions back then... In a bad way... Now I’ll make this clear, this is NOT on Cosmonaught, it was just how impressionable I was as a person back then. I’m just saying how his video affected me on a personal level.  Up to this point I didn’t really understand the hate for the prequels besides the fact they were “bad movies” and “people don’t like them”. Cosmonaughts video on the prequels gave me those reasons, and I finally felt like I got the distaste for those films. However, like they say... A little knowledge can be dangerous, and boy was I about to learn that lesson the hard way... 

The fall

So here I am, knower of all things, the CORRECT things... I’ve watched my fair share of videos from a handful of sources, I know my shit. I’m making my opinions known, and I’ve become that friend.  But whats this! A dissenting opinion!? My boyfriend actually likes the prequels more than the Original Trilogy!? SACRALAGE!! I must prove him wrong! And prove him wrong I...! Did not... In fact, something rather bizarre happened... He convinced me.  I was stubborn at first, but I’ll admit, my wall got broken down at long last. He (bless his soul for dealing with me) managed to get through to me exactly what it was he loved about those films, and it wasn’t just the nostalgia. I had always seen the politics of the Galaxy like most other people did, some boring preachy nonsense that had no place in Star Wars, but I came around to it.  Granted with a little help from the Clone Wars I managed to piece together just what it was there was to like about these films... I wont say they’re perfect, far from it. But internally they have so much more going on compared to the Original Trilogy. The Era has some of the most fun and expandable concepts and ideas in all of Star Wars, and while it may not be as iconic, the visual artstyle of it all is still its own recognizable brand of Star Wars.  And almost like magic (or my phone spying on me) youtube started recommending videos that disagreed with Cosmonaught, and I got my first taste of how his video wasn’t as sound as I thought. Now as a side note: I still like Cosmonaught. He’s a funny guy who like I said knows his shit, but he obviously isnt the be all end all right and wrong which I hadn’t quite learned. I can enjoy his content while disagreeing with it, and I think thats just fine. I find myself disagreeing with a lot of creators I watch now and he’s just joined them.  But hang on, we’re missing something here... A certain... Mouse? Perhaps?

The dark times... The Disney Empire... 

So hop back to modern day for a sec, this timeline pretty much lines up with the end of the Disney movies right? So how do I feel about those? Well... When the first three came out, I liked them. Like everyone else I was loving new Star Wars. As a young art student, I loved Rogue One and TLJ for their stunning visuals, deeper themes and their attempt at something new and fresh. I loved the throne room fight scene, the light speed ram and how Rogue One had such a bitter sweet ending.  But ho ho no one else felt that way! And whether it be peer pressure or my love of dumpster fires my opinions changed like that. I laughed at the Rose Tico and Snoke memes, I hated the Canto Bight subplot and poor Luke being butchered on screen like that, and then there's Rey...  Solo came and passed. I refused to go see it, as I did with TROS which came out around the time I was getting back into Lego, and along with the prequels I was watching video essay upon video essay about why the sequels sucked and how to rewrite them. Some of them coming from a positive place, others... Not so much..  And so my hatred for them grew as I got back into the franchise and came to appreciate the originals for what they done great, and loathing the new films for lacking that same spark. And unlike the prequels, I didn’t really get enough pushback to change my mind. But what I did get was the full brunt of spite and hate the fans had for these new films, and honestly? It was depressing. 

Hate leads to suffering. 

I finally reached my rock bottom. I genuinely reached a point where I debated giving up Star Wars for the sheer amount of negative feelings I had towards the state of the franchise (which might I add is valid if you ever end up feeling that way about something you’re meant to be enjoying). 

I struggled to get past how Disney “ruined” Star Wars, and clearly nothing was going to change. 40 Years of history had been wiped out and the new timeline was a contorted mess, and the amount of discourse and disagreements in the franchise honestly did not help at all. 

Nothing was simple, everything had a catch. You like how Kylo was irredeemable in TLJ? Well he’s redeemed in TROS. TFA is a fun film but it sets up a lot of the things people hated about the sequels so you cant even just head canon that the other two never happened. And then...

Saved by Lego

There was Lego, making the best of a bad situation. It didnt care if you didn’t like that Palpatine was back (somehow), it didn’t care about the clunky prequel dialog, and it didn’t care about the thousands of retcons from the entierety of the franchises existence. 

Whether by contractual force or not: It was pure, distilled Star Wars. 

I loved how a set with Rey could stand beside a set with OT Luke and thats just how it was. It put into context that this was reality, and I could either be bitter about what could have been or accept what was, which wasn’t easy and I’m still not really over it. But I reached a place where I could accept the fun in all of Star Wars, that I liked how some of these characters looked, that these characters all existed in one Galaxy, and it was nice. 

And it led me straight back into... 

Learning to love Star Wars

One of the most important lessons I learned in the past year was trust your gut. Sure, hear out other peoples take on something, and if it changes your opinion all the more power to you. But don’t fight the fact you felt something in that initial reaction. I liked the prequels as a kid, so why don’t I as an adult? Is it because i outgrew them and see them for the disasters they are? Or is it because a someone who watched them as a fully grown adult that grew up with the OT was underwhelmed? 

And to that extent... I rewatched TFA and TLJ with an open mind and an open heart. The result? 

Im indifferent towards TFA. It has fun character moments and has a decent adventure, for what it is its good. But I actually found myself enjoying TLJ after all these years of hating on it. I liked their take on Luke, I liked the mutiny subplot, it didnt push the story forward leaps and bounds but it was a more methodical take on the franchise and for the I liked it. It wasn’t perfect, its biggest flaw is how bleak it can feel and its lack of doing anything interesting with its setting, but it does do a fair amount of decent things and I’ve come to appreciate it for that. 

I’m planning to watch TROS at long last soon, so maybe I’ll update it here. But what I will say is that I hope Lucasfilm don’t give up on the sequel era and characters quite yet. There is still a lot to love here as much as you may not like it, and I hope that they can explore more interesting meaningful themes and narratives in external media that they couldn’t in mainline films cough cough Stormpilot cough cough...

I know not everyone will agree with how I feel now, heck a lot of my problems I had still stand, but I’m at peace with it all now. I just want to sit back and enjoy this franchise for what it is. While I might not forgive Disney for its severe mishandling of... everything (a rant for another time) I’m content just not them supporting to the best of ability.

Star Wars is in such a unique position where each generation has a different stance and appreciation for different parts within the franchise. The prequels were hated until its fans grew up and started defending it, The Clone Wars was hated until its fans grew up and started defending it, and the sequels ended last year, their fans haven’t quite got their voice yet. But I’m interested to hear what they have to say. 

[weebsinstash]

I’m new to this blog a bit but I came across this blog from your Valentino x readers, idk if anyone has asked u this and I’m sorry if they did 😅 but do u plan on continuing them or any other Val x reader fic?

Honestly I've been having tons of ideas for him and other things I want to write, it's just become a big, motivation and depression issue. I keep having days and weekends off where I just sleep or smoke and do nothing and then I have anxiety that I didn't get anything accomplished and it's become a negative loop of "do nothing bc im stressed or unmotivated>feel bad for doing nothing>do nothing bc I feed bad about doing nothing>wash rinse repeat>live in constant disappointment and self hatred"

Honestly I've been trying to encourage the mindset of "dont force it! You aren't obligated! You're ok to take it easy" but I actually think I've been taking it easy for so long its just becoming easier to. Not write at all, so, im thinking it might actually do some good if I DID try to sit down and force it on my next day off. Just to get the ball rolling a little more

But uh... I still feel really stressed and messed up over stuff that's happened to my sister and unfortunately a lot of the ideas involving Valentino usually have to deal with.... you know, being taken advantage of while under a substance or things that are similar enough to her story i just. Feel bad.

But anyways I gotta tell myself what happened to her is none of my responsibility and honestly she even weaponized it to make me feel horrible so, I dunno, maybe I've recognized thst the entire reason she even told me came from a manipulative mindset and I'm coming to terms with... enjoying my own stuff again, if that makes sense. Kinda had to absolve myself of the guilt, even though it has nothing to do with me

Kinda everything above has to do with me writing in general but anyways, to get back to like, this big fluffy asshole specifically

99% of why I haven't written more for him is that I feel like I have to do more research to get his character down, and specifically? His manner of speech, since I found out a lot of fics I want to write usually deal with him making a lot of threats and being very dialogue heavy. He's only verbally spoken in the Angel Dust comic, and his Instagram can only be found through archived tumblr posts (because antis reported the account for misogyny, because that's the level of nuance and understanding adults have on the internet now I guess) and like, what if that's not reflective of his personality, what if that's just his online persona. What if I create some sort of weird cringe offshoot that isn't very canon correct.

Like. From my perspective Val is usually very, sassy and flamboyant in a very "fuck you, im being myself, im the boss, eat my shit, fuck with me and I'll cut you" kind of way, but he's also basically a mafioso and deals with drug deals and the mob and shit like that and can obviously be very threatening and serious. So I guess it's finding that balance? Like what's the ratio of Mean Pimp vs Sassy GNC partying slut, kwim. I guess that's an idea in of itself I keep having for a Reader x Val fic; Reader having so much fun partying and indulging in the worst parts of themselves with Val that they forget who he is and where they are until some sort of horrible epiphany or consequence is staring you right in the face

Like. Im definitely reading too much into it. Its 100% I dont want to write something and then the show comes out and my stuff seems like, cringe. I mean, even more cringe than me writing yandere content in general but 😅

TLDR: yes, I have a lot of ideas, im just an easily embarrassed little cringey baby who's reading too much into it and wants it to be enjoyable but accurate and im also having motivation issues

[seaslugg7]

anon from this evening who asked about a statment i made in 2013, here is my final statement on the subject. please read the whole thing because im too up front to have anything taken out of context. 

 im not publishing your ask but i have apologized for that, several times, including immediately following the incident. but those screenshots didnt get around. this is how i saw it then: out of all the creeps in the industry he was the only person to not only get consent but get written consent. i saw him as a scapegoat for an entire corrupt system. i felt like agents should be held accountable for urging models to do things they are uncomfortable with. the photographer in question was always respectful of me, even when i was a practically a nobody. i clearly communicated to him my standards and my boundaries which he respected more than i can say for a lot of people in the industry, if not most. while all my friends were taking off their tops in front of him, he would be knocking on the bathroom door telling his assistants to pinch it so i could use the restroom to change. i felt like people were using his name to get famous and throwing him under the bus. i felt like the whole concept of getting consent goes out the window if an adult can give written consent to something, sober and then blame anyone but themself. i too have done things i regret and wish i could blame someone else but as adults we are responsible for our own decisions. I had many chances as a model when i was beginning to do things that crossed my boundaries, and it would have got me places, but that was not worth it to me. I felt like there was no way anyone could go to his studio not knowing the type of material he shoots. i’ve never witnessed him be pushy in ways SO MANY PEOPLE in the industry are, so i figured anything done with him was done by people who were, not only were aware before doing it that they might do stuff like that, but also signed release forms, sober. The article i had read stated the girls didn’t want to say no to him because it would be like saying no to all of their cool new friends or something like that... SO from my ~mind u this was in 2013, not present~ perspective, he was being used as a scapegoat. I had only ever experienced a kind version of him who respected me and treated me like an artist and adult. He was someone who valued my opinions on things and made me feel seen and valid in an industry i was just starting in. He was one of the only people in that world who treated me like they “got” me in a time when i was so, so isolated.  But now, i see the situation differently. I’ve apologized about it several times. During that time of my life, i wasnt sleeping much at all, i was traveling constantly, and was being berated 24/7,  called faggot bitch lesbian slut whore everything under the book constantly by my partner and was also a total idiot from PTSD. i was literally fucked up all the time and people at work thought i was on drugs because i was just so out of it, (for the record i’ve come a long way since then). Working in the industry, I have had so many people ask me to push my boundaries, or try to force me to, and i've heard of so many awful stories of rape and molestation by bigwigs such as alex wang (he pulled out my t girl friends genitals at a party and laughted- and thats just one story of many) that i thought the negative attention terry was getting was unfair because in my eyes, he had never done anything with anyone that was non-consensual or with anyone who wasn't able to give their consent. as im older i can see the nuances of the situation much more clearly and i really need to distance myself from that statement.  I’m not someone who doesn't stick up for women, and although i’ve been terrible with my words i have done plenty to physically protect models, and women irl, the kinds of things i could never share or you would never hear about on the internet. i’ve kicked ass for women. i’ve beat photographers over the head w their own camera and exposed film, broke cameras of anyone i’ve seen take pictures of girls changing backstage. i’ve refused lots of money to work with rapists and abusers, and i’ve lost a lot of great opportunities for this. I’ve called out creepy famous photographers in front of large groups of people to embarrass them. I could tell you so many stories, as could my lady friends, that would show you how much i do care about protecting women. that’s the problem with the internet is that no one knows you in real life, or speaks to you on a daily basis. I’m not a misogynist, i am just a contrarian, and a devils advocate. I will stick up for someone who doesn’t have anyone in their corner, that’s just the way I am. I thought he was totally misrepresented. I got it wrong once because i connected with someone who i thought was just misunderstood, as i have often been. I’m loyal, he gave me my first paid job when i had NO money, he believed in me when i needed people in my corner. I feel really bad now for all the women who had bad experiences with him now that they are all uncovered and listed on the internet. if i had been aware of all of those experiences then, i would have never worked with him. i feel bad for endorsing someone who could have given so many women negative experiences and i wish i could take it back, but thats in the past. i can’t change the past. it’s an icky feeling, but eventually i have to move on and forgive myself. i’ve been tormented over one stupid statement enough. 

I do think it should be said that women in this industry need more support in learning how to say “no” and being empowered to make their own decisions. Agents, stylists, photographers can be bullies to often MUCH younger-than-them models and intimidate them to appease their will. I would love to see more strides made in this direction in the fashion industry, and to see more dark subjects such as pimping and rape (none of which my agency has ever been accused of) come to light. There are actually many people out there that think the risk of being sexually abused is part of being in entertainment industry and that is not ok. 

 I’m sorry if i let anyone down, it was a really stupid thing to say and i didnt even totally mean it at the time i was just having a manic tumblr moment (while working nonstop) and was being a stupid edgelord/contrarian or w/e. when someone like azealea banks posts a rant people are very offended by, imagine the type of headspace she was in when she posted it, and how she got there. I was going through some shit from 2009-2014, and it took me years to heal. I don’t hold the same opinions as i did in 2013, i’m a VERY different person now, and I don’t deserve to be held accountable for this 8 years later. thanks for understanding. People deserve to be able to grow, i hope we can extend that chance to others as well. 

[halorocks1214]

the law of relativity

AO3 Link

Word Count: 9963

Summary: The Law of Relativity states that each person will receive a series of problems (‘tests of initiation’) for the purpose of strengthening the ‘light’ within. We must consider each of these tests to be a challenge and remain connected to our hearts when proceeding to solve the problems. This law also teaches us to compare our problems to others’ problems and put everything into its proper perspective. No matter how bad we perceive our situation to be, there is always someone who is in a worse position. It is all relative

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | Virgil | You are here! | Gordon

WHY 👏🏼 CANT 👏🏼 I 👏🏼 WRITE 👏🏼 FICS 👏🏼 IN 👏🏼 MO 👏🏼 DER 👏🏼 RATION 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 also just bluuuergh. dont ask about this fic. part of it was written in a dark auditorium, another was written in a different state, another was written on a frickin bus, this fic has been places ill tell you what. half the time i think this is hot garbage and the other half i think its actually decent so im posting this while my head is in a good headspace and then promptly yeeting myself off the internet for a few hours to wait and see what happens. this series is becoming less of a canon divergence AU and more of a straight-up AU because of certain details im trying to worm in there buT IM TRYING MY BEST

thanks once more to @gumnut-logic, because of the length, this time i used three prompts, them being "What do you mean?", crease, and dream (and they werent even used that much sksksksk)

Warnings for both graphic and non-graphic depictions of violence, as well as mentions of torture and other PTSD/panic attack related stuff. I went deep with this one fellas

Orphan.

The word tasted dirty in his mouth.

He can still see the footage in the backs of his eyelids from when he watched it exactly one year ago. He was the only other (living) adult at the time in the family outside of Grandma, so he was permitted to see it. He remembered they originally didn’t want to show him, mainly because of his age, but Grandma was fierce, and she put one hell of an argument on the table.

One Scott refused to let fall through the cracks by breaking down. If only Grandma knew how he cried his eyes out and screamed to high heaven that night in the hotel room after essentially watching his father be blown to bloody smithereens then she was a goddamn saint for keeping it a secret. It made sense, she was the mother to his father. She had quite the line up of stories from Jeff’s childhood. Scott sensed the early-greying of his hair came from her, heh.

The rest of his family eventually saw it, of course, they did. Scott couldn’t shield them forever. What he will protect, selfishly he might add, was how angry he was at how much better they took it than he did. They cried, yes they did, but they never fully broke down like Scott did. Later in life, he wondered if it was jealousy: jealousy at not truly being able to let go. Whatever it was, he made sure to swallow it along with whatever alcohol he chose for the weekend.

Just add it to the ever-growing pile of shit he had to deal with. Nothing new.

Suddenly he’s 20 again and seated in a plane to be taken to his first stint in the Air Force. He said his goodbyes to Virgil, Gordon, and Alan back at home while Grandma and John metaphorically held his hand all the way to the airport. John was… quiet, more so than usual, but Grandma was stuck right in the middle between being a sobbing mess and ecstatic at the fine young man he’s become.

You’re just like your father. He would be proud.

Scott was secretly glad she never physically said it. It gave him plausible deniability in thinking that those words weren’t laced behind her big, bright, prideful eyes.

The first time went well, maybe even great. He stayed for a couple of months, did some flight tests, and while the training was brutal, boy did he learn a lot. When he came back home it was to a family slowly stitching itself back together. Grandma was a full-time house member, Virgil had taken up painting, Gordon talked about potentially going back to his swim meets, and while Alan was still as silent as ever, he was perkier than when Scott last saw him.

It would be on and off for the next few years: a couple of months at home, slowly and painfully taking over the role their father had (he can’t remember when he essentially received joint custody of his younger siblings with Grandma, but hey, he’s not complaining), then a couple of months out at the Air Force base where he slowly climbed up the ranking platform. He became skillful, perhaps too skillful. When he got his rank of Captain he felt it was less of an honor and more of something they owed him.

He was getting cocky. Never enough to be a danger to his fellow men, but enough to be somewhat of an occasional annoyance. Charles smacked him upside the head more than once. It felt like the world was right-side-up for once. Scott made many-a-calls to John and Virgil, the former enjoying his first few rotations up in space and the latter squarely in the middle of college. Gordon was being offered sponsorships to hell and back, and Alan was quietly getting along with the other kids at his school. Grandma was on welcoming duty for Kayo, who was taking her slot in the Tracy family with grace, though, a warning that their family would take custody of her if something were to happen to her parents would have been nice, Dad.

Of course, nothing ever goes right for their family for too long.

Orphan.

Age 24, it was supposed to be a simple retrieval mission of civilians. Scott was put in charge of his squad and then some. At night, they rolled-- well, flew out to get the job done. Scott can’t even remember the country anymore when minding his own business. Australia? Finland? Perhaps Bangladesh? There was a place John was insistent Scott never do rescues in, Virgil tended to agree, and the eldest unhealthily let them banish him from ever stepping foot there without argument. He could never remember the name off the top of his head until John’s familiar International Rescue, we have a situation rung out in the living room followed by the name of the country.

He would immediately forget it later, trauma too strong, too volatile, but the way his heart stopped and his head shattered and the way he felt ice water rush down his back was a good enough reason to quietly leave the room and let John delegate the job to one of his brothers. Sometimes John found him retching in the toilet halfway through the mission. He made sure to always mute Scott’s wrist communicator, even if it was never turned on in the first place.

The plane touched down. Orders sent the ground team out. But then the ground team took longer than estimated. Scott tensely waited where he was told to. It wasn’t the first mission that took a little longer than predicted and knowing humans, it surely wouldn’t be the last. Then, words mixed with heavy static came over the radio. H--p. Co-- ---7--. --nd ba---p --me--at--y.

Scott sat tensely in his seat, remembering his orders and suddenly hating them. Radio back to home if the mission goes south. Well, it didn’t look like they had the radio anymore. Still didn’t hurt to try at least. Scott spoke the familiar protocol that was ingrained into him when trying to call base. Dammit. Nothing. Probably some kind of blocker of sorts. Sitting up straight as a board, Scott looked through his options.

… He was in charge here. If something happened to his team the fault would lie squarely on his shoulders. Going against everything but his gut, he went out to help his squad. He can’t really remember what he exactly did anymore, but he does remember that it made a noise. Like a Looney Tunes scene: he flinched, froze, waited to see if anything or one heard, breathed a sigh of relief, and continued.

He eventually stumbled across one of his closest comrades, Arnold Brigeets. Yes, the name was ironic and half the reason he joined the force in the first place. The guy was one of the people that actually trained Scott and also seemed to be one of the few that was genuinely proud when Scott became a higher rank. It’s why Scott was more appreciative of Arnold than others, that, and well… Scott thought his fatherly abilities were good. The guy did have three kids back home.

Orphan.

Ducking down behind the cover his older friend was semi-situated behind, Scott watched as Arnold jumped at the intrusion before sighing. Scott had run into some enemies that he swiftly took down-- nothing too serious, he didn’t have the time or weapons for such an act, but they definitely would be out of it for a while-- so Arnold must have too on his way to find cover as well, hence why he was so on edge.

“Thank God,” Arnold wiped his forehead, “Glad to see you join us, kid.”

Scott was breathing heavily, but the grin he attempted was still there, “Y-Yeah, so what happened? More threats than we thought?”

Arnold shook his head, “Yes and no. There were a lot more baddies than we thought, but that’s because the civilians weren’t civilians. It’s a tr--”

Boom. The familiar sound of a gunshot.

Arnold fell over. Never got back up. Dropped like a rock in a lake, never to come up to the surface again.

Scott was so caught off guard he couldn’t react to the gun that swiftly beat him over the head, knocking him out cold. The only thing on his mind was oh fuck oh fuck I messed up I shouldn’t have come I wouldn’t have made any noise that way why did I--

They had him for roughly two weeks. Scott always thought the plotline in movies where the villain vehemently denied knowing any important information was dumb as hell. We’re not stupid. We wouldn’t go after someone if they didn’t know something.

The things they did hurt and no amount of I don’t fucking know anything! would help. Those two weeks were lost to Scott in a sea of pain and torment. The only thing he remembered was being captured, then waking up in a hospital drugged up to his gills with his superiors staring at him like he cured cancer.

“You saved the rest of your squad from sharing the same fate as the first half.”

“I-I did?”

“You betcha, son. I only wish I was there to see it! People be saying you were like an animal in how you took ‘em all down.”

Scott’s never remembered, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He was given the highest honors, even the chance to skip a couple of ranks to be at the same level as the big boys, but the night they were going to share the news to the golden boy himself, they found him in one of the bathrooms with a bloody hand and a mirror shattered with no hope of fixing it.

He was honorably discharged to a family that was so thankful he was home. Words like missing in action and POA never stopped haunting their nightmares. Scott was too, God, of course, he was, but sitting around and doing nothing was the last thing his traumatized mind wanted or maybe even needed. After doing what he considered to be the biggest fuck-up of his life, he needed to feel important.

This isn’t the first time he’ll say this and it surely won’t be the last: thank Christ for Grandma.

“You want me to take over?...”

“Yep, it’s about time Tracy Industries received a new pair of eyes. The Board certainly thinks so.”

“But… they’d rather have a crazy, PTSD-infected veteran over you?”

A rough pinch to his ear, “Hey now, don’t call yourself that,” the gentle motherly tone was back as soon as it left, “Besides, that crazy might exactly be what they want. Half of their argument is that I “don’t take enough risks.” They’re getting tired of listening to an old fart like me.”

A moment of contemplation, followed by the cheeky raise of an eyebrow, “So you’re saying you want me to take so many risks they have no choice but to take you back?”

A bark of laughter, “Damn straight.”

He learned the ropes faster than normal (healthy, is probably the correct term), and he immediately won the hearts of both young and old in the company. Instead of flying planes every few months, he worked on business reports and vetoed new ideas every couple of weeks. It felt satisfying for the most part, and his family was just happy he was still alive to enjoy it.

However, there was a slight roadblock on his way to becoming a somewhat stable person.

He became prone to violent blackouts. It had to have started when he blacked out and saved himself from those two weeks of hell, which made the most sense. Something was always destroyed when he came back to life. John was the best at calming him down due to his own experience with panic attacks, however, John couldn’t always be there, and the next rotation for NASA was coming swiftly. Scott swore up and down he would be fine, he could figure something out. John went back into space with an eyebrow permanently raised.

It was just him and Virgil home (Grandma had taken Alan and Kayo to watch Gordon swim) when he, unfortunately, proved John right. Scott wasn’t sure what triggered it, but he vividly remembered coming back in Virgil’s extremely tight hold. The first thing Scott thought to say was damn, beanstalk, when did you get so strong? but then he laid his eyes upon the forming bruise on his younger bro’s face and hasn’t recovered since.

Virgil swore he never held it against Scott. Scott definitely thought he should have.

That night brought sudden clarity to Scott that he was doing this horribly wrong. He was a ticking time bomb, and it wouldn’t be long before something was damaged in a way that couldn’t be fixed. Scott needed an anchor. Something to ground him before he took it too far. John wasn’t going to be earthside forever, Grandma was busy with Kayo, Alan was just a kid, and Gordon was living the dream. None of them were viable.

Then, as he was thinking, he was suddenly aware of how calming Virgil’s arms were around him, how they were preventing the growing panic attack in his chest from getting even bigger.

It was easy.

For once in Scott’s life, his eyes were big and young as he asked Virgil, “Help me, please.”

After a few brief seconds, Virgil gulped, “Okay.”

From then on, Virgil was Stone Number One. Scott’s admiration for Virgil outweighed the guilt of putting the black-haired man in that position in the first place. Virgil was glad to follow his older brother’s leadership, but just as qualified to bring him the hell back when he went too far. From getting too sacrificial to preventing a good punching-out some of the idiots they dealt with, Virgil made sure Scott knocked that shit off.

Time went on, Scott was a top-notch CEO at Tracy Industries, John was having one hell of a time up in space, Virgil was graduated and had so many life opportunities to pick from, Alan was thriving at being a (mostly) stable kid, Kayo was 100% acclimated to the family, and Gordon--

Scott found himself gripping the wooden desk very abruptly. He was shocked he didn’t snap a chunk off in the process. Why was he thinking about this right after a giant business conference? Who knows at this point. If this giant origin story seemed jagged and jumpy, maybe even somewhat vague, good, that’s how it fucking felt.

Back to said story.

Scott always thought he and Gordon would have the least amount in common.

They do, but out of all the things they could have picked to be similar, why did it have to be the PTSD caused by military-related jobs? Scott was 24 when he got his, Gordon was just under 20. It may have been a few years since their respective accidents, but they’re never going to go another day without it feeling like it was just yesterday.

At this point, Gordon was up and walking again, mainly thanks to John and Alan while Virgil and Scott helped in their own ways. Grandma’s cooking was what probably motivated him the most though, ha, the need to get away from it… Scott smiled. Grandma was always a constant. Honestly, if it weren’t for her, the family might have fallen apart. Literally.

What has he been saying throughout this whole shindig? Thank Christ for Grandma.

One day out of the blue, Grandma reserved the entire family (yes, even Kayo and Alan) private plane tickets so they could spend some time on the mainland for a few days. Honestly, even if the island wasn’t getting major renovations, you hooligans need to get out more. Have some fun. Try not to kill anything, especially each other, she all told them while creepily grinning. John and Virgil smacked Gordon more than once on the plane for insisting that she finally snapped, dudes, she’s gonna kill us.

Most of the time during their little vacation, Scott heavily focused on his breathing. He was pretty sure he knew what she was doing. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but the same went for his excitement.

Dad showed him these plans the day after his 18th birthday. You’re a man now, Scotty, I need your help making this big boy decision with me.

As soon as they reset foot down on the island, Scott took a deep breath and felt relaxed at the salty taste in the air. It was weird, nothing on the outside was changed, and yet… it still felt different.

“Guys!” Virgil yelled out, “Stop playing in the water! We just got back, aren’t you two tired?!”

Blinking back to reality, Scott looked over to see his two youngest brothers doing exactly what Virgil was yelling at them for. Poor Johnny was a little damp too, which is what probably caused Virgil to shout at them in the first place. The blondes didn’t care. They continued to prance around in the shallow waves with their pants legs rolled up, acting as if they didn’t hear anything outside of their laughter. Gordon shoved his hands down into the liquid and threw some directly at Alan, nailing him right in the face.

Scott exhaled slowly. He couldn’t imagine them doing this 8 years ago.

Regardless, the artist was right, and they couldn’t waste too much time. Kayo was swift in grabbing both gentlemen by the ears and dragging them onto dry land. They all painstakingly trekked their way up to the-- what would you call Tracy Island? Mansion? Over-blown cabin? Well, whatever it was, Scott would always be willing to call it home.

Stepping inside, each brother took in the view, which was underwhelmingly not that much different, except for one tiny thing. John suddenly noticed a figure already standing in the living room and blinked, “No way… it’s--”

Gordon jumped in, both with his body and his words, “Brains?! Dude, how’s it hanging?!”

The scientist in question jumped at the voices before clearing his throat and readjusting his glasses, “O-Oh, hello again, T-Tracys. It’s good to see you all once more.”

Virgil slung an arm around his shoulder, ignoring the blatant squawk, “Man, how long has it been?! What made you finally decide to crawl out of your hole?”

Snickers came from all corners of the house. Brains stood up straighter, “W-Well, I was contacted b-by Mrs. Tracy over here with an offer I c-couldn’t turn down.”

Eyebrows tilted in all shapes and sizes. Someone cleared their throat. Everyone turned to look at Grandma once again, “I think if you all follow me, you’ll swiftly understand what I’m talking about.”

I already do, Scott thought matter-of-factly. John seemed to be understanding it now, Virgil was on the cusp of remembering what his father was hinting at for him, and Gordon was just as lost as Alan. It made sense, Jeff talked to all of them about it, but the oldest had seniority. The two youngest not remembering just by words was expected, especially since that was going to be rectified very quickly.

The hangar under the island was beautiful. Point blank. It smelt of iron and steel and grease and engine and that was the first time since Scott had been in the Air Force that he didn’t gag or flinch at the thought of flying something again. Scott had seen the plans his father drew. He assumed Jeff finished building it, but he never got to physically see it since…

In some ways, he was glad he didn’t. Now he got to experience it with (most of) his family, and that made it ten times better.

After letting them absorb the scenery, Grandma slowly turned around to look at them all, “You remember that dream your father had?”

The four oldest blinked, Kayo simply raised her eyebrows, meanwhile, Alan, being the teenager he was, didn’t read the emotion in the room, “Oh, yeah! Aunt Casey always talked about how he was going to “change the world” and stuff. What did he call it again?”

Scott felt way more confident than he had in a while, “International Rescue.”

Grandma nodded, gleeful at the happy look on her oldest and youngest grandsons’ faces, “Well, I’ve been thinking about some things. I know we don’t exactly worry about money, but after everything your father put into these girls… I’d hate for them to go to waste.”

The Tracy family jumped at that. John’s mouth was wide open in shock, yes, shock, “That station is still up there?”

Grandma sighed, “You mean ‘Five? Not for long. Not if we don’t send someone up there within the next few days.”

John blushed at the grin Grandma gave him. Clearing his throat, his big brain came to a startling conclusion, “Wait… you brought Alan along?”

The other big brothers in the room jumped at that. Kayo was the only one with enough balls to say the truth out loud, “Mrs. Tracy, I mean no offense, but he’s--”

“Just a kid?” Grandma smirked, “A kid that’s topped the VR charts for Intergalactic Fury for weeks straight while simultaneously getting nothing but A’s in his classes?”

Scott nodded slowly in comprehension. He remembered Alan talking about that game for a while. It was some kind of online racing simulator of sorts. Scott caught the prettiest string of words from Alan when going to bed one night. Nearly made him shit his pants. He made the kid promise to keep it PG-13 if he wanted to keep playing.

Still, the elders in the family slowly turned to look at the freckled boy with both shock and pride. Alan blinked with wide-eyed innocence, “But my English class is only at a B--”

“Shh, kiddo, I’m making a point,” Grandma rolled her eyes. The other brothers snickered. Yep, still Alan. Grandma sighed, “Now before you point out that video games are different, I know, but the difference between them and this is that video games don’t have some of the most talented older brothers in the world to guide him.”

Said older brothers jumped at the idea. Before any objection could be made, Grandma continued, “Besides, the GDF seemed to be okay with it. The Colonel was willing to oversee some of his training too.”

John flinched at that, “But IR is supposed to be independent!”

Grandma slightly frowned. She didn’t exactly like it either, “It still is, but in the world of business, compromises have to be made.”

Virgil huffed and crossed his arms, “Well, that’s… rough. Here I thought only Scott would have to deal with the bullshit of business.”

Grandma chuckled at the somewhat un-Virgil-like behavior, “It really is, Virgil. But about that Scott part,” she slowly turned to look at him and him only, “I hate to give you more work to do, but if you want to work within their restrictions?”

Suddenly every pair of eyes in the room was on the head of the family. Gulping, Scott looked down at his feet to think. It was a tense few moments, nobody sure what he was going to decide, least of all him, before the brunette cleared his throat and brought his face back up with a grin.

“Well then,” Scott turned to look at the bright tip of ‘One, chest fluttering with a feeling that became unfamiliar to him over the past few years, “I guess now it’s time to state the obvious.”

From then on, every time he loaded into that cockpit of his girl, he felt lighter than air.

“Thunderbirds are GO!”

Everything was okay again.

Mostly.

Orphan.

Scott took another sip of his whiskey and refocused on his reports.

---

Scott was in some kind of dissociative state the whole way home.

Alan doesn’t deserve this. He’s still a kid, barely an adult, and he’s going to go through utter hell because you screwed up. You were 24, Gordon was just under 20, Alan was barely 18. Alan’s going to get fucked up like you and it’s all your fault.

His movements were robotic and rigid. Anyone with a working eye could tell he was deep in shock and running on autopilot. Mostly Jeff. Especially Jeff. The rest of the brothers all noticed too, but they were also running on their own empty fuel tanks, so the only thing they could do was guilty send their older brother the occasional glance of pity and concern.

Jeff was going to need to talk to them about that. Somehow. Maybe he shouldn’t be the one to point it out since he feels just as bad. His sons were too much like him, sometimes, and that made his guilt burn all the same. He should’ve been there to warn his sons about the dangers of unnecessary guilt. Having that kind of guilt was a parent’s job, dammit, and maybe grandparents only occasionally.

But then he remembered where he’s been for the past 8 years and… who really was Alan’s parents anymore? His gut was screaming it sure as hell isn’t you, but he knew his sons would want him to step back into the role as soon as he was physically fit to do so, not just for Alan, but for themselves as well. They would deny it, but they probably just wanted to be kids again too, even if it was only brief, fleeting moments.

Who was to tell the protective, fatherly side of Jeff no to that? No better time to fix things like the present after all.

He saw Scott go up the stairs when they first stepped into the living room, so that’s where Jeff was going to go too. Footsteps light, Jeff retraced his eldest’s pathway to his bedroom. Only, he stopped before said bedroom. Unfavorable noises were coming from the closed bathroom door, and Jeff could only swallow whatever emotion it made him feel. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the (unlocked) door to the bathroom and laid his eyes upon the incriminating scene.

Jeff was met with the sight of Scott retching his entire stomach into the toilet, hands aggressively grabbing his sticky, hair-gelled hair and trying to make himself bald from the strain.

Jeff’s reaction was always based on autopilot, and it will never stop being so.

Ignoring his protesting body, Jeff kneeled and placed a hand on his son’s back, only to abruptly pull back like he touched a hot stove when Scott only got more hysterical at the contact. The brunette clenched his eyes shut even more (and they were already shut as much as possible) while his head became a special kind of crease. Like he was in pain, “God, I wanna go home. Why won’t they listen I swear I’m telling the truth! Please, I just want Dad--”

Jeff was frozen on the spot, heart stopping in the process. His brain shut down while he watched his son continue to mindlessly ramble and panic. His freaked-out mind barely registered footsteps from behind in the hallway, followed by a voice going what’s going-- holy--

Something thundered past him. Blinking once, Jeff guiltily watched as Virgil kneeled behind the eldest and wrapped his arms around the thin man’s shoulders while taking Scott’s hands in his in a protective blanket, “Scott! Jesus-- we’re at home, you’re safe and it’s June 14th, 2--”

Scott only struggled more, panicking at the fact he could no longer yank his hair out. Dammit, it was the only way he could feel in control, don’t take that away too! “No! I swear I’ve said everything! Please--”

Virgil immediately knew that this was one of those attacks that Scott wasn’t coming back down from with pure human intervention. Add-on the sight of his father’s big eyes signifying the man was at a loss at what to do, Virgil had no choice. He snapped loudly, remembering the comms were still on and only feeling slightly bad at the way Scott flinched in his arms, “Shit-- John! It’s Scott! Get the stuff! We’re in the upstairs bathroom!”

Muffled footsteps through a few walls in the house could be heard. Jeff’s mind was only starting to catch up when the brother Virgil called for came rushing into the bathroom (Jeff never remembered it being big enough to hold four of them) and ignoring Jeff (practically shoving him out of the way too, man, this was bad) on his way to the main problem at hand. Landing on his knees in a way that made Jeff wince, John gently grabbed one of Scott’s arms from Virgil’s hold and subsequently pulled a needle from nowhere and injected something into Scott.

The response was instantaneous.

Scott’s breathing, while still labored, got slower. He stopped struggling as well, and the way he sagged reminded Jeff of ice melting into a puddle. The two other brothers’ shoulders also sagged, relieved at the crisis averted. John stood up, knees cracking as he rubbed the back of his neck. Then, he froze at the sight of something in the doorway, “G-Gordon…”

Virgil snapped his head up from where he was looking at Scott. Jeff did something similar. Yup, in the doorway was the strawberry blonde, eyes wide, making him younger by about 10 years. The ex-Olympian in question inhaled, closed his eyes, and soon speed-walked his way out of the entrance to the bathroom. Dammit, neither Gordon or Alan have seen something like that and it probably spooked him more than anything. He’d understand with his own PTSD-related issues, but still, seeing the “never weak” big brother freak out in such a scary way...

John combed a hand through his hair, shaking his head. As he started walking out of the room, he whispered to himself, probably hoping no one heard him, “Dammit, this is all so fucked…”

Unfortunately, Jeff did hear, and the dirty language made the father flinch. John was always the best about making sure Grandma didn’t wash his mouth out with soap, and the fact that he so willingly didn’t care meant that everyone was at the end of their rope. Still reeling at the sight, Jeff couldn’t react to the gentle arms that picked him up off the floor and slowly led him out of the suddenly stuffy room.

With the click of the door shutting, Jeff realized what Virgil did, “W-Wait, Scott--”

“Will be okay for a few seconds,” Virgil finished for his dad, “I know it’s nearly been a decade, but the one part of you I definitely know hasn’t changed is the need to comfort us, just like we hoped.” The small grin that fell over the middle child’s face put Jeff a little bit at ease, but Virgil wasn’t completely done, “So, I’m going to let you take care of this, but I just want to make sure you’ll handle it with grace. Take this slowly, okay? Scott might be doped up, but he’s still… volatile, in a sense.”

Jeff cleared his throat, suddenly choking on the unneeded tension, “Okay, Virgil, I promise, just… what happened? That was… bad, and really bad at that too. I know Scott would never let something that severe willingly come out in front of his family.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not ready for this conversation, “Listen, Dad,” he inhaled sharply, cutting himself off before sighing in a way that said fuck it, might as well get this over with, “As much as it felt like it did, the world didn’t stop spinning because you… well, we had lives we somehow wanted to continue living. We all have lives and stories now, and this is Scott’s story to tell.”

Jeff was getting misty-eyed again. Back when he was just a kid, Virgil couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, mainly in part due to his insomnia-related issues (Jeff has to wonder if he still has them, more problems for the future) and general lack of filter because of sleep-deprivation. Now Jeff knew there was a starch difference between a kid who couldn’t keep his mouth shut and a man who genuinely knew how to respect another man’s privacy, but…

It just hammers home how much he’s missed with his boys. Gulping, Jeff made a mental note to talk with his mom about certain things he’s missed. She’ll know a lot more than he would, “Okay, Virge. Thank you, for stepping up there.”

Virgil’s shoulders relaxed at Jeff’s words, as well as his father’s hand patting him on the shoulder, “Thanks, Dad. Just… go easy on him. I know it’s a little late for this but none of us ever properly talked about things. It was very unhealthy, deep down we all knew that, but…”

“You just couldn’t get the proper emotions out?” Jeff finished for his son. At Virgil’s soft nod, Jeff exhaled, “I’m not going to say that it was a smart decision, but we’re all here now. We can move forward with this.” Jeff squeezed where his hand laid.

Virgil blinked before curtly going, “Yeah. Goodnight, Dad. Take care of Scott.”

Virgil stepped around his father and walked to where his bedroom most definitely was not, but Jeff could deal with that in a little bit. He had another son who he was pretty sure just had a violent PTSD attack of some kind, plus, Virgil seemed to sour at something Jeff said. The ex-astronaut wasn’t sure what it was, so he didn’t chase after him out of worry that--

Wait.

We’re all here now.

Dammit, Jeff. Out of all the sentences you could’ve picked...

Alrighty, just add that to the ever-growing pile of things that need to be talked about later. No biggie. Jeff found himself sighing and rubbing the back of his neck much like Virgil did a few minutes ago. Turning around, he was met with the bathroom door once more. Shaking his head, Jeff slowly crept into the room and saw that not much was different, especially with Scott.

His heart softly cracked, but, again, he can deal with it later.

Sitting down on the ground and grimacing at the way his body ached (was gravity always this rough?), Jeff leaned against the floor cabinets about 2-3 feet away from Scott, who made himself into a nice comfortable ball in the corner next to the toilet, his palm smushed against his forehead. Jeff waited a few seconds. Then minutes. Then he realized he would have to be the one to initiate the conversation. He probably should’ve realized that right when he came back in. He opened his mouth, but his wasn’t the one that words came out of.

“It was… Zambia.”

Jeff’s heart stopped and his mouth snapped shut. He couldn’t stop the way his eyes clearly showed his panic, but hopefully, he guiltily thought, Scott was a little too doped up to not realize it, “Scotty, what do you mean?”

Scott shrugged in a way that spoke he thought what he was admitting wasn’t a big deal. Yep, clearly not with it, “Mission went bad… caught for a couple of weeks.”

Jeff was hoping his first fuck back on Earth, spoken to himself like right now or otherwise, would have been a comedic thing, but the way nausea rose in his throat said this was anything but funny.

Scott wanted to be in the Air Force. Badly. Who was a father to deny his son’s want to be part of such a noble cause? He gave him tips, took him to meet friends in high places, sometimes even sparred with him when he turned 18, but then Jeff was suddenly thousands of miles away with no hope of ever having the chance of sparring with his eldest again. Despite it, Jeff hoped Scott went on to become the best pilot the world has ever seen.

Part of this looks like he did, but at what cost?

As much as it felt like it did, the world didn’t stop spinning because you… well, we had lives we somehow wanted to continue living.

Aw hell, “Jesus, Scott…” Jeff couldn’t tell if it was the brashness or the lack of a nickname that made Scott flinch and he hated it. He immediately softened his tone and brought his 27-year-old child into his arms, “Shh, shh, we’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

Like father like son, old habits die hard, and as easy as it was to still be able to comfort his children, Scott seemed to just as easily take it as he used to 8 years ago, “Alan doesn’t deserve this kind of hell, God, he’s barely not a kid anymore! Why--”

Jeff tightened his hold to keep his son in reality, and because he didn’t like the tone behind those words, “Hey, you didn’t either--”

Scott somehow managed to fling himself out of the hug, focus incredibly on point for someone who was doped up to his eyelids five seconds ago, “But I fucked up! I made the wrong call and then suddenly Arnold was dead and he had a wife and kids-- shit, what the hell did I do?”

Okay.

First of all: way to put him back in that headspace when that’s the exact opposite you were going for, Jeff, father of the year. Second: dammit. Just… dammit. This was a big fat hand grenade in a giant handbasket that they didn’t have time to gently get out while simultaneously not yanking the pin clean off with the grace of a drunk elephant. Jeff was no stranger to Survivor’s Guilt, but there was a whole untapped pile of metaphorical C4 within his son’s head that was ready for someone to push the goddamn button.

He wanted it to be him, desperately, because it sounded like he already failed his family enough, it was all he could do at this point, but he absolutely hated that he couldn’t do it right now. This was going to take a lot of time, which they didn’t have, plus, Jeff thought he had a pretty good understanding of this new Scott and the rest of his kids. Jeff was aware that if he didn’t help his sons find their baby as fast as possible over everything else it’ll lead to a fate nobody wanted.

A shaky sigh, “Okay, Scotty, let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk strategy in the morning.”

Scott simply nodded as his father flung Scott’s arm around his broader shoulders and picked him up. Slowly and painfully but surely, father and son meandered their way to Scott’s room. With a thump a little harder than Jeff wanted, Scott flopped down on top of his sheets and immediately started snoring. Despite everything that just happened, the father couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Well, there was another thing Jeff gracefully passed onto his son.

Jeff only took Scott’s shoes off. He would’ve loved to pull the sheets up around him too, but the father didn’t want to take any chances at waking him up. Slowly tip-toeing out of the room, Jeff gave one last glance back at his son before finally letting him be and gently shutting the door. He had three other sons he needed to console, but his tired joints told him to selfishly take a moment for himself for right now unless he wanted to collapse and give his family more to deal with.

Jeff eventually made his way to his room-- which was sadly unkempt, he noticed-- and sat down on the edge of his unfamiliar bed to think.

He’ll figure something out. If he had to crawl through images of his son being brutally and bloodily tortured then by God he would with the fury of a thousand suns.

He was back and he wasn’t going to throw away any second or even third chance he was given.

---

“I got him.”

Virgil turned his comms back on, and with it, Scott’s heart restarted for the first time in a few weeks. Taking a moment for a breather, Scott leaned against the wall while practically wheezing. They have him back, holy shit, they have him back. Scott vaguely heard Gordon cry in pure relief and joy. He saw John’s side of the comms flutter for a bit before a bright flash happened. Blinking away the white spots, Scott looked at his wrist to see a fully detailed map of the compound.

Gordon spoke what they were all thinking, “Woohoo! First Allie comes back, then Johnny-boy gets us a free ticket out of here! We’re winning this race, baby!”

A very loud moment of silence. John cleared his throat, “Actually, I was going to say glad to see you in one piece, you little shit,” a playful gasp came from Virgil’s side. It was too high pitched to be from the pianist’s mouth. Scott chuckled, but the paranoid part of his brain said John wasn’t done. His brain was right, ‘“But guys… that wasn’t me. Or EOS. We still haven’t found a way to get past the metal they made these walls out of.”

That silence was even more deafening than the last, and before Virgil could utter out his typical what the fuck, a small logo appeared at the corner of their new map. One that was all too familiar. The Chaos Crew wasn’t the only one who could brand their awful deeds.

Son of a bitch.

Virgil’s order over the radio was meant for Alan, but Scott couldn’t help but listen to it too.

“Shit, Alan, you need to run.”

Making quick work of the compound once more, Scott, while booking it even quicker than last time, opened a private line between him and Gordon, “Hey, how would you feel if I said go help Virgil while I cover Alan?”

The first response was stuttering, which Scott expected, but then it was followed up by something completely out of left field for Gordon, “... Okay, just as long as you promise to bring Alan back in one piece.”

Part of Scott wanted to console Gordon, another was questioning why Gordon was so quick to give up, another wanted to say of course, I will, idiot, but the first part that made itself verbal was easy, “You know I will, buddy.”

Scott could physically picture Gordon’s tiny, little, somber nod clear as day, “Sounds good, captain. See you on the other side.”

With a click, Scott was back on the group comm. Suddenly remembering what exactly his job was, he pulled out the map so graciously given to them by The Hood. Looking at all the dots, one was heading towards a prone one (oh if that asshole did anything to Virgil…) while another one was heading right for Scott himself. Actually, in just a few seconds, right as Scott rounded the corner he would--

“Woah, look out there, Tigger!”

Yes, you heard that correctly: not tiger, Tigger. Tigger hadn’t been used since Alan was itty bitty. It always seemed like the kid had endless energy with the way he wouldn’t stop bounding off the walls and furniture. Even as a baby, Lucy had to sit with him for a few hours while he slept in his crib to make sure he would stay there. In fact, their mother gave Alan that nickname herself. She was quite the Winnie the Pooh fan, and the rest of the family figured it would be one of the ways they could keep her legacy alive for the tiny potato.

Wrapping his arms around said flailing potato, albeit much bigger than a baby, Scott thought he would collapse then and there. Alan was here, in his arms, and yeah, the sight of his dirty and somewhat ripped up IR uniform made him mad, but Scott, for once in his life, decided to focus on the here-and-now, aka his precious, alive little brother, who finally stopped struggling at the realization that hey, the person holding you is a good guy, time to turn off fight mode.

Smushing their foreheads together as much as possible, Scott desperately fought to keep the waterworks back, a smile from ear to ear hopefully taking whatever energy his tear ducts had, “You are getting such an ass beating when we get home, little bro.”

Alan jumped back with a look of What the hell?! What did I do now?!

Scott simply rolled his eyes, “Really? “Not important”? You graduated high school, tiny dude! That’s huge! You remember Gordon’s party, right?”

Alan’s mouth gaped before he closed it with slightly puffy cheeks. Those same cheeks tinged with a small blush. Alan wasn’t exactly expecting to be smothered so soon (well, he did cry his eyes out on Virgil’s shoulder, but that was different!). Shaking it off, Alan moved his hands rhythmically and rapidly, To be fair, we weren’t sure he was going to get one for a while.

Scott faltered a little bit at the ASL. Darn, he should’ve seen Alan’s lack of talking from a mile away. Scott carefully hid his disappointment from Alan. Lord knew what the kid would take it as, “Yeah, that’s what he got for barely making it. Imagine what you’re going to get!”

Scott assumed his semi-fake charm worked, as Alan seemed to play along without any kind of suspicion, Oh yeah. Fair enough.

This kid, man.

Then, slow clapping came from a dark corner, making Scott’s heart leap out of his throat as well as push Alan behind himself. Glaring as much as he could towards the invisible evil-doer, Scott didn’t have to think twice, “Alan, take my map and find Virgil and Gordon.”

The youngest looked like he was going to object.

“Go.”

He no longer did. Good.

Listening to the field commander’s orders, Scott felt his wristband slip off his wrist and a warm body leave his vicinity. An inhale. Also good. An exhale, followed by an even darker glare, “What more do you want?”

Short and straight-to-the-point and angry, two things Scott typically wasn’t. Regardless, like a cold gust of wind, footsteps started approaching him from the shadow. Once Scott saw the outline of a body, he tensed even more. Virgil would snap at him for clenching his jaw so much.

A dark chuckle reminded him of what was important. The voice that spoke reminded him of something completely different, “Now then, brother, let’s not be rude to each other!”

Scott’s pupils shrunk at the familiar sight of Gordon stepping towards him. Except it wasn’t Gordon, because Scott knew that Gordon knew better. He also knew Gordon didn’t cheekily smile like that, even after a prank, nor did he walk that straight. He always had a funny walk after WASP, and Gordon wore that fact like a badge of honor.

Oh no, Scott definitely knew who this was, “What the hell are you playing at?”

Fake-Gordon rolled his eyes, like it wasn’t obvious, “I mean if we want to go that route, why did kid insist you being in the military was the coolest thing he’d ever heard you do? Maybe I wouldn’t have been pressured into joining a branch myself in the end.”

Scott’s nostrils flared, and by God, his pupils might have actually slitted like a snake’s, or possibly even a dragon’s, “Excuse me?”

Scott blinked, and suddenly he was met by not-Virgil, “Plus, why was our conclusion after hearing a three-year-old wanting to see snow to go to a ski resort? It had to have been those big, selfish, beady eyes, right?”

“C’mon, Scotty, we gotta give you some kind of calming exercise. There’s going to come a time when neither me or John are going to be there.”

“Hmm… does yoga work?”

A snort, “Well, that’s not too bad of an idea. Maybe the person pissing you off will stop whatever they’re doing at the sight of you spontaneously doing downward dog.”

Laughter, an unfamiliar action, “Yeah, okay, but for real, those breathing exercises I’ve seen you do look okay. Let’s start there.”

Scott was not a liar by heart. He had to admit that those exercises were doing jack shit right about now.

Another blink, another brother. Familiar ginger hair was all Scott could see, “To continue that previous point, why did Dad start International Rescue again? And what led to his demise?”

“Sounds like a piece of work. Why do you keep dealing with these people again?”

“Someone has to pay the bills, Johnny. Grandma’s too focused on making the perfect poison for us.”

A roll of eyes, “Right, because the billions we have saved wouldn’t be enough to last a couple of families a few lifetimes. Glad to see your calming exercises are working at least. How’s that going for you, by the way?”

A pause. A flicker of vision around the room. Someone cleared their throat, probably himself, “It’s probably not as bad as whatever space is throwing at you. You handling it okay up there?”

Another pause, followed by a sigh, “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Scott wanted to deflect the truth so badly right now more than anything else. Telling him he couldn’t pilot ‘One anymore would be a much more enticing option than what he was hearing.

Suddenly, Scott was looking in a mirror, “Besides, I know more than anybody that he wasn’t wanted. A mistake. I thought we Tracys hated being imperfect?”

The Hood must have known their backstories from internet articles, and being the mastermind he was, it probably took him all of three seconds to see Alan had some hidden self-worth issues. By playing the biggest Guess Who? game of all time, The Hood was most likely able to figure out some less-than-positive ideals Alan thought about himself throughout his childhood and danced circles around his already weakened mind to string together some spineless blame to put on the kid by sheer evilness alone.

Knowing his kid brother, it worked.

Scott wasn’t thinking straight-- maybe even at all when the first punch was thrown.

Just like that, Scott blacked out and was running on terminator mode. John would be disappointed. Virgil would be horrified. Gordon might find it funny. Alan wasn’t here, and thank God for that. Scott wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. All his mind was telling him was make lots of pain hard and fast. His brain also blocked out any hit The Hood was giving him in return. Pain flared for a few seconds, then it was swept away in the puddle of rage his mind was currently being consumed in.

Soon, his out-of-it mind found its target and gripped his-- The Hood’s arm, no disguise would make him have an identity crisis, thank you very much-- nice and rough.

Scott heard the familiar snap of cartilage and felt only partially bad. If he was thinking more clearly, he would be disgusted with himself. Yes, even The Hood didn’t deserve this level of Scott’s fury. Oh, he definitely deserved to be hit by a truck, but not by Scott. It was mostly due to Scott’s sanity. If he could be this graphic and violent at all, even to the worse possible criminals, that meant he could be that way during other moments, and that was not a territory he wanted to cross into.

Welp, he was here now, and he’ll hate to admit it in the future, but the only thing that brought him out of it was a tiny gasp from a few feet away. Snapping his head up, Scott’s eyes landed squarely on a smaller-than-normal Alan, who was currently clutching his arm to his chest in an emotion Scott didn’t want to figure out at the moment. So much for going and finding Virgil and Gordon.

“Allie, help…” fake him grunted out, only making real Scott growl and tighten his hold (and probably making his case worse). Looking up from the person in his arms, Scott felt his heart split in two at the sight. There was fear and uncertainty in Alan’s blue eyes and boy did it hurt. Scott couldn’t tell if it was because even seeing a potentially-fake Scott being beaten up was bad or if it was because he’d never seen big brother be this brutal, even towards their enemies. Whatever the reason, it involved Scott being the main root of the problem.

Wait, that was The Hood’s plan. Shit… make Scott act past the point of no return in a way that was unfamiliar to Alan so the kid couldn’t be fully sure who was who, and Scott fell right into his trap, hook, line, and sinker.

Fuck.

Bloody well done, Scott, you absolute moron.

Scott faltered a little bit, “A-Alan, I--”

That falter was enough for The Hood to break an arm out of his grip and elbow him in the face. In the brief second of freedom he had, he tried dashing towards Alan, but Scott was too quick for everyone’s good and soon had the imposter back in his arms, both of them struggling in a way that made them look like they were tied into the weirdest knot in existence.

Then, an earthquake struck.

No, literally.

A big shake of the abandoned compound threw the look-a-likes about and subsequently off the platform they were on. The place was old; it didn’t take a lot of weight for that guard rail they made their way over towards while fighting to snap right off. With a yelp, the two of them gripped the edge as much as they could and held on. Crap, I know we talked with Fuse about potentially setting some stuff off, but--

Blinking, Scott saw a familiar mop of blonde hair come into view. Alan was rather panicked, clearly not sure which Scott was the real Scott. Not only that, he had little time to decide which one to save. Goodie, another reason to despise The Hood: not only has he put Alan through weeks of torment, now he’s forcing the kid to decide to either save his oldest brother and biggest hero or his personal torturer.

And Alan won’t know until he picks.

Holy hell, this was getting worse by the second. Hopefully, big brother charm can work its magic and get them the hell out of there.

“Alan, quickly, over here!”

“I can’t hold on for much longer, Alan, hurry!”

The two Scotts glared at one another in the exact same way, not making Alan’s job much easier. Another shake, another slip down the metal cliff, more screams, and Alan looked ready to tear his hair out. Scott watched as the kid looked around rapidly, probably praying for a miracle in the process. Suddenly, the kid jumped when he must have spotted something important. Within the blink of an eye, he was gone and out of their range of visions to retrieve it.

Whatever the hell he noticed better be important, because if just ended up wasting precious time then--

Another shake, probably the last one. Still, it was enough.

Both their grips gave away at the same time, screams identical (God, did he always sound that wimpy?) as they plummeted to their demises. Scott was briefly able to look up to see his brother pop his head over the cliff like a chipmunk again and grab the (albeit broken) arm of The Hood and save him. Dammit, Scott should have expected that, though, that display of anger was uncharacteristic to Alan. Probably terrified him even more than he already was. Fuck, Scott deser--

Suddenly, a rope wrapped itself around Scott’s left arm and stopped his descent. Hard. Hopefully, it was only torn stuff, they didn’t have time to deal with dislocation--

Wait.

Scott wasn’t dead if he could think about these kinds of things.

Blinking, he looked at his arm to see the familiar rope of his grappling hook around his forearm. Moving his eyesight to look past that, he saw the wide, blue eyes of his baby brother struggling to stay on top. The Hood was using his non-broken side to try and climb his way back up to safety. Huh, that’s weird. When did Alan get ahold of that? Scott must have dropped it during his scuffle with--

That’s when it hit Scott.

Alan saved them both.

Alan saved them both.

And it would be all for jack shit if Scott didn’t get his ass up there to help.

Panicking, Scott gripped the rope and started to ascend. He had two working arms and a smother complex to boot; it wasn’t long before he overtook a struggling Hood, who could only use one arm and a weakened brother (that bastard was so lucky Alan had a literal heart of gold).

Flinging his arms over the edge and pulling himself up-- and shrugging off the extra help Alan offered. Save your strength, baby bro-- Scott was in a much calmer search-and-destroy mode. He yanked his evil look-a-like up, turned him on his stomach, pinned him down, and before he could even watch Alan blink, “Sign something.”

There, now he watched Alan blink.

Scott pulled out one of his best ‘big brother’ smiles ever, “Tell me something in ASL. I don’t think The Hood learned that kind of etiquette.”

The body beneath him growled, making Alan jump and Scott tighten not only his hold but his glare. Further prove big brother’s point, why don’t cha? He lost the angry look immediately to grin at Alan once more, who seemed to be slowly getting the picture. With a gulp, the blonde slowly strung together a sentence that Scott had to laugh at, just a little bit.

Damn, could you teach me to fight like that, Scooter?

Nodding his head, Scott had to concede, “Sure. Consider it a graduation present.”

Alan blinked again, and the immense relief that washed over the boy’s shoulders would be enough to banish nightmares for at least a couple of days. Suddenly, The Hood’s disguise blinked out of existence, making both brothers jump that time. Scott didn’t falter in his grip, however. This man was going down right here and now, Scott thought darkly, staring at the prone body beneath his.

Scott saw Alan continue to sign out of the corner of his eye, You know you look like shit, right?

Scott chuckled. Alan was always able to put a smile on his face no matter the circumstances, “Yeah, well, kindred spirits, little bro.”

Scott was probably as pale as Alan was with such lack of sleep and food. Running on what was essentially a prolonged PTSD attack wasn’t healthy in the slightest, and no doubt whatever kind of bruises and scratches The Hood gave him didn’t help, however, seeing hope fill those deep-blue eyes when Alan learned he was truly being saved drowned everything out, including the way those freckles were getting lost in those eye bags.

Yeah, their entire family probably looked like shit, and the recovery process was going to be even shittier, but they were going to suffer through it together as a family would.

That made it all worth it.

Shuffling himself so one arm was free while the other kept The Hood pinned, Scott held it out towards Alan. The flinch the youngest made tore a hole in Scott’s heart that was only slightly patched when Alan leaned into the warmth and safety of his biggest bro. Long recovery process, remember? Regardless, Alan still took to the hug like a dehydrated zebra did a pond, and that was good enough for Scott.

The Hood groaned underneath them.

Yep, good enough.

[fairycosmos]

tried to kill myself last week n slept it off for 24+ hrs before telling my mom. she couldnt take me to the hospital bc we don’t have insurance n my case manager ended up calling dcs /: (ill be 17 next month) rn i feel like theyre waiting for me to say myself i dont wanna live here rather than just removing me bc technically i am safe but im not ready to do that even tho i know i should let them find me help. i feel like theyre waiting for me to mess up to decide themselves. i just feel lost man

oh god, i’m sorry for the late response and that you’re in this position at all, man :( i literally cant imagine how difficult everything must feel right now, and i dont blame you at all for being lost. most 16 yo olds are, but add something like this into the mix, and it’s no surprise that you’re feeling so conflicted and hurt all of the time. i know it hurts to process such vitriolically negative emotions, but it’s also a normal human response. imo, what the real focus should be on, is doing what you can to cope in a healthy or safe way. even if some days, that just looks like crying in your room and waiting for it to pass. but anyway, i want to say that i’m genuinely glad you’re still here, and i hope that one day you can feel that way too. it’s wonderful that you’re alive, and the world would be missing something if you were gone. even if you dont know it right now, and even if you can’t see it in this moment, there is so much growth and positive change waiting in your future. it’s actually inevitable, and nobody really tells you that when you’re a teenager, but it’s kinda true from what i’ve observed. the natural progression of things, the natural process of growing up, makes things feel a lot more manageable. that probably doesn’t feel like a real train of thought to the present day you, but honestly even in the 3 yrs since i was 16, the entire basis of my perspective has changed. especially bc as an adult you’re able to control so much more of your life and the mental health resources that are available to you. it’s all waiting for you, and it’s nothing to be scared of. you dont have to know what to do next and you dont have to have a solid concrete plan. i’m not sure that they’re waiting for you to ‘mess up’, because trying to do what’s right for your own health doesn’t count as ‘messing up’, whatever you decide is okay. it’s a really hard decision to make and i totally understand why you don’t know where to begin. but i think it could help to just have an honest conversation with yourself about what you really need in terms of where you live. try to block out judgement and what you ‘think’ you should do.  where do you see yourself thriving, where you do see your needs being met? where do you see improvement, and guidance? are you able to work with your case manager to figure out some sort of middle ground, some sort of compromise? i get that actually taking such a step is way way easier said than done, but you can take it at your own pace over the course of the next two years while you figure out what would be best for you.

i know you said you don’t have healthcare, and i’m not entirely sure how things work where you are. but do you think it’s possible that there could be a support group for young people in your area, or a mental health center/crisis team, literally anything at all that could lend you some support? maybe you could talk to your case worker about this, too? there could also be someone at school available, like a counselor or even just a teacher you trust. another option is to call a mental health hotline to see what they think your options are. and i know these ideas sound vague, and like theyre impossible to take seriously, but i’d really appreciate it if you gave them some real thought. it’s alright to be scared, but the fear of reaching out literally doesn’t compare to the fear of staying silent and letting this get worse on your own. mental health conditions are just as serious as physical ones and sometimes they need genuine medical attention in order to learn to live with them, and that’s absolutely alright. having someone to talk to who is trained to offer you the tools you need can really make a massive difference. they’ll be able to advise you on what the next step should be, in terms of your personal development. initially saying that you need help out loud is the worst part, sometimes you have to force the words out....but it still counts, every small effort does. i just want you to know that a better future is possible and is much more likely than the awful one you’re envisioning, no matter where you go from here. if you’re unable to receive professional help at this time, then i hope you’re able to engage in healthier coping mechanisms anyway even if they don’t work every time. i’ll leave some links that may be helpful to you when you’re in a low moment. not saying they’re supposed to fix everything, but they’re supposed to calm you down and give you some clarity so you dont make an impulsive decision. i promise you’re capable of pulling yourself back from the brink of sadness, and i promise you’re capable of getting through this. every day you survive, you’re learning how to make it all feel lighter someday. i wouldn’t say any of this if i didn’t believe in you. despite my extremely limited perspective of your life, i can see that you’re smart and you’re young and you just want to find some stability.  the more you focus on yourself and your own well being, even when you want to self destruct, the calmer things will seem. so like i said before, take all the time you need to consider the choices available to you, and then try to get through each day as it comes. if that feels like too much, one hour. minute by minute is more than good enough. im proud of you for surviving and for being the person that you are. if you ever need a friend or if you want to talk, i’ll be here. you’re not as alone as you want to believe, and so many people can relate to your circumstances because they’ve gotten through it. you will, too. you dont have to have it all figured out, that’s not your responsibility. you just have to keep trying and working with what you’ve been given. im rooting for you.

https://www.healthyplace.com/blogs/speakingoutaboutselfinjury/2018/11/immediate-coping-mechanisms-for-self-harm

https://www.helpguide.org/articles/depression/teenagers-guide-to-depression.htm

 https://www.healthista.com/15-daily-self-care-tips-help-depression/

https://bebrainfit.com/stress-management-techniques/

[monzterzack]

Sometimes i remember i drew 300 comic pages just becuase i wanted to tell a story

And then i remember that its been like a year since i posted more and that.... no one really minded

And i get a bit sad, cause my ocs mean the world to me but my brain, my body and depression has gotten to the point where im unnable to work like i used to do and i can barely construct coherent thoughts nowadays

So sometimes i start thinking "how if i quit art and stop feeding myself the delusion that my art is worth enough to keep me alive?, why dont i just grow up and accept my dreams and aspirations are childish as best and a fantasy at worst? Why cant i just act like a normal adult, finish my law degree and work on that field? Sure... i hate law and i hate conflict and i hate everything related to that but its good money, why cant i accept im just a regular person and not someone special and that my talents are mediocre at best?"

And it gets depressing really fast, cause i dont wanna quit art, its the only thing i care enough about to keep doing

So sometimes i write super bummed out, and depressed and just.... ugh it pisses me off, my own sadness pisses me off so much, i really want someone to tell me my art is worth it, i wanna feel its special in a way, even tho i know its not

But also why do i need recognition? Why do i need praise? Cant i just do it cause i want to? Cant i just indulge myself? Why is it so bad to want to do stuff just for myself and why do i get so sad about it not getting recognition?

What is wrong with me?

Why does everything i make have to make others happy?, why cant i just be satisfied with stuff existing because i made it?

I feel something is breaking inside of me, i cant even work in commissions cause i start feeling frustrated cause im working on stuff that isnt for me and i find myself unable to motivate myself, that isnt normal.... that is fucking weird as hell

And i tell my therapist and he doesnt really know what to tell me other than "just sit and do it" and im always wondering if i explain wrong, im not looking for excuses to not do it, im looking for advice to help me motivate myself to work harder, cause it sucks not being able to deliver the best work u could do, just sitting myself and forcing me to do it feels unfair cause the final products are usually not as good as i could had done it had i been motivated

I know im capable of doing fantastic pieces once inspiration kicks in, but i find it more and more hard to even get inspire nowadays

I dont know.... something is not right with me, but im afraid to go to a psychiatrist and have all my issues trivialized, and im afraid of turning into a zombie again, being able to do what everyone expects of me but unable to do what i feel joy with my characters

I think i can only work with extreme emotions now, everything mild, everything that feels "normal" freaks me out and i trigger myself or find ways to get into a fight or to get yelled at

And i know it sounds edgy and stupid "i dont do normal" like if i was a emo riverdale character or some shit, but i really cant work with mild emotions, i cant work with happy feelings or with mild contempt moments, i need to feel so extreme that the emotions overpower me and force me to draw or die

And its not healthy, i have so many white hairs in my head now its unreal, i cant sleep and my pancreas is so done with my levels of stress that it started failing and gave me diabetes

I am so scared of the future, i am so depressed in the present and i feel so nostalgic for the past, cause at least now with perspective i feel like i had a bit more control and at least i feel that i certainly was valid back then, but nowadays i just feel so confused and done with everything im exhausted

Ugh..... i am really losing my mind... its not even quarentine stuff, i guess the fear of death and the fear of the unknown had just amplified this feelings but i been feeling this wack for years now

I am not sure what im doing or what i feel, and im scared that everyone else was right about me and i am wrong about myself

I dont know man, im tired of emotions and feeling like shit