#is this normal or am i stupid/have a brain problem

[petrodragonicapocalypse]

always impressed and a little scared by people who can know whether they like an album after listening to it just once. for me the first 3-4 listens just sound like a confusing mix of random noises until either it clicks and becomes the best music ever made or i realise idgaf

[therosevest]

ok im a really chill and normal person and i get over things and am well adjusted but take a walk with me here. just give me my time to complain when im not in the absolute fucking trenches. and yes i believe i suffered more than those in trench warfare. it was literally a lesbian situationship with a bistraight girl come on. just. magenta choppy shag with the roots coming in. camo cargo pants black t shirt with red lettering and striped long sleeve (sign someone likes music. confirmed). lip ring big black stud earrings and nails. red docs. i think lesbians should be allowed to kill one dyke baiter in their lifetime idc

[watery-melon-baller]

its so fun :)) and awesome :)) that i cannot fucking make my brain focus on my homework :))) holy shit im gonna kill someone :)) why can't my brain just work for five fucking minutes :)) this is easy homework too I just can't concentrate on it at all :)) and it's due tomorrow morning :)))

[running-in-the-dark]

the thing is. I've said many times that it'd probably be better if I didn't post on here so much, especially when I'm not doing so great. it does not feel good. but. when I don't, it just all stays inside my head and it feels so much worse for far longer, so I really just don't know how I would cope without this.

[ginger-and-oliveoil]

. Tw

[monstersflashlight]

As per @myrunawaysweets request and my own indulgence, here it is part 2 of Misunderstanding your werewolf boyfriend (can be found here). Enjoy!

“Why are you peeing on my petunias?”

Werewolf x gn!reader || sfw || tw: pee

“Doesn’t it smell like piss around the garden?” He looks at you with big eyes, surprised by your question. “I think we might have some wild cats living outside or something,” you tell him, munching on your snacks.

“Su- sure. That must be it,” he stutters out a response, but you don’t pay much attention, already forming a plan to look for the cats so you can at least bring them to the shelter.

That conversation registers in your brain lightly, not giving it much thought after that. You believe it’s the cats, but when you let some food outside and it’s left untouched overnight, you start suspecting it might be another kind of problem, maybe parasites. Maybe some kind of fungus is eating your plants… You don’t know what, but you start researching, and bring it up to your werewolf boyfriend a couple times. He acts nonchalantly every time, and you believe he doesn’t know anything about it, how could he?

But you are wrong. So, so wrong.

You come home early one day, your hands full of snacks and groceries, and you step onto the back porch to say hi to him. Your groceries hit the floor when you catch him peeing on your flowers at the edge of your garden.

“Dude! What the fuck?” You scream, mad as hell at him and at the fact that you just dropped your bags and your eggs probably broke. Fucking hell.

“I- I’m sorry,” he says, but continues peeing. His eyes never leaving you as he does so. You are so mad you can almost feel smoke coming out of your ears.

You look at him, stomping his way and stopping a couple meters away as he tucks himself back in his pants. “Why were you peeing in my petunias?” You ask, trying to sound rational but failing, your tone murderous.

And he makes it worse when he says: “I- I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” You ask, your patience running very low at that point.

“I can’t control it,” he says, looking at the floor and blushing.

You can’t comprehend what he’s saying so you have to ask: “You can’t control your bladder?” That can’t be it though, you know it can, you’ve seen him pee inside more than once. He acts like a normal adult most of the time even if he has some weird quirks you associate with him being a wolf.

He looks at you like you are stupid, and you almost want to kick him for it. He was the one peeing on your flowers, but you are the stupid one? No way. Before you can verbalize that he says: “What? No! I mean yes. I can control my bladder, but…” He stops mid sentence, looking bashfully at you, like it’s self explanatory.

“But what?” You press.

“But I need to mark my territory,” he finally confesses.

You are even more confused than before. “What territory? We have a fucking house, with toilets. Inside toilets,” you are trying to breathe through your teeth to avoid screaming, but it’s been really hard. Who knows what werewolf pee can do to your flowers, you took care of them for so long…

“But… But… But you live here,” he says, like it explains everything.

And then it clicks, and it only makes you madder. “I am your territory?” You ask, incredulous and angry. “It’s the 21st century!”

“I know. I know,” he looks so pathetic that your anger dissipates instantly. You bet that if he was in his werewolf form his ears would be down and his tail would be twitching in embarrassment. “I just… I can’t stop it. I want everyone around to know you aren’t an unclaimed female.” You arch an eyebrow at him, confused and annoyed by his use of words. “Not in a bad way, my wolf just… I need to mark the territory so any other monster knows you are my mate,” he finally confesses in a soft tone. That makes so much sense you want to coo at him.

“And you have to pee my petunias for that? You could have just asked me to marry you,” you deadpan, surprising both of you at your outburst. You cover your mouth with a hand, trying to bring your words back into your mouth, but obviously unable to.

“What?” He looks hopeful, a spark of something deep and bright shining in his eyes.

“Okay…” You take a deep breath, trying to decide how to deal with this. But a part of your brain already decided what you want to do, what you want him to be in your life. “I guess it’s time then… Would you marry me?” You ask, anxious all of sudden. Everything between you two has been like a dream, but right now you aren’t sure of anything.

But he doesn’t let you overthink it. “I- Yes!” He exclaims, his eyes as big as plates as he looks at you, mesmerized, like you just gave him the best gift of his life.

He closes the distance between you two and rests his forehead against yours, his hands framing your face. You try to forget that he was just peeing and he definitely didn’t wash his hands. Disgusting. “Would you stop peeing on my petunias now?” You ask jokingly, tears in your eyes as your brain fully processes what just happened. You asked him to marry you… and he said yes. You are getting married to your werewolf boyfriend. Oh lord.

“I’ll try,” he whispers before closing the distance between you two and kissing you senseless.

[cvntluver444]

7 mins in heaven w ellie😇😇😇😇

thank you so much for your request and your support love!! <3

✞ 7 minutes ✞

✿ summary : the request!

✿ warnings : smut minors/men (boys) dni, puss rubbing, dirtyy talk, shy reader, sweet ellie, ellie teaching reader, reader is in closest!!!!!!, mentions of reader in str@ight relationship, almost getting caught!, if i missed any lmk pls!

✿ a/n : thank you for supporting my works as always! this is not my best work bc i used all my creative brain juice on my last fic so i am so sorry! unfortunately, i am headed back to school this weekend so my writing is going to slow down, but i'm not stopping don't worry babies. im hoping to put out 2-3 fics a week still!!!! keep sending in those requests! I have one more to work on, so to the anon who requested it its coming i promise my love!!!!

ALSO i did kind of make this a personal fic im so sorry LMAO basically i just explain how when i finally realized i was gay YAYAYA !!!!!!! but yeah warning again the reader in this is based on me so it is like finding out you're into girls later on kind of thing so if this is something you're not interested in feel free to skip! I hope you like it lucy!!! (idk if that's your real name im just going to call u that teehee) i love you all so much! muah

✿ as always, please remember to keep spreading information on and support Palestine!!

daily click

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you anxiously played with your fingers as the last of the party guest gathered around the huge circle. your friends and you decided to spend your saturday night at one of your classmates party, resulting in you now dreading your turn in the 'truth or dare' game.

"you okay?" you turn your head to your left as your eyes land on your friend, who clearly could pick up on how nervous you looked.

"yeah i'm fine," you tell her. "just hope i don't have to do anything stupid or embarrassing. she laughs at your comment.

"don't worry, i doubt you'll even get picked. there's a lot of people here and were all drunk so, who cares!'. her shouts fills the room, drawing a couple eyes toward the two of you. you giggle and hide your face, trying to tell her to keep it down. in the midst of shushing her, your eyes graze the room, watching people roll their eyes at her behavior. but your eyes catch someone else's and you freeze.

ellie williams

she sends you a soft smile, a dark look in her eyes. you gulp and look away quickly. god, she was so hot you thought. you hope she couldn't how flustered she made you. you hope no one could. your whole life, you've always had no problems catching boys' attention. you could have a whoever, whenever, but with this luxury came its flaw. you never actually liked the boys you went out with, you just loved being loved, being in a relationship. you never understood why you felt that way, but just continued on normally, not giving yourself a chance to actually explore more about yourself. but when you first met ellie freshmen year, the feelings finally became visible, especially after finding out she was also into girls; however, you were still not sure if she felt the same. This caused you to once again burry your feelings and close yourself up. You were too scared, and way too sober to even try to talk to ellie.

suddenly, a loud voice can be heard yelling throughout the house. "truth or dare starting now in living room," on boy shouted. your palms became sweaty and you prayed that everyone would pick up on your uncomfortableness and just leave you alone. as always though, the world likes to work in funny ways, and you feel a large presence sit next to you and tap you on the shoulder.

"hey," the boy smiles, "cool if i sit here?" you just give me a simple nod of your head and continue your attention elsewhere, your thoughts interrupted once again. "you look good tonight, by the way". you turn back around, and give him a quiet thanks, and before he could respond, everyone around you begins to pick who will go first for the game.

after three or four people went, you began to grow annoyed. the man next to you could not take the hint, and you were the only person here not having a good time.

"alright williams," the room cheers silently, "truth or dare". your attention is now fully on ellie. she stares up at her friend who just picked on her, small smirk on her face as she answers with a confident dare. "hmmm," her friend hums out loud, looking around the room. you swear you see their eyes stop on yours for a second, before they get an idea. "i dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven," they pause and the room is filled with oooo's. your heart drops a bit. "a person of your choosing." now everyone was going crazy. everyone knew ellie was gay, and everyone knew she made every girl gay, so it was a pretty heavy dare.

ellie smiles up at her friend, sage you think their name is, before she slowly starts scanning the room. you quickly look down, hoping that your avoided eye contact would make you more invisible. your only focus now was watching your fidgeting fingers and giving back half asses answers to the man beside you who still will not shut up.

you hear ellie suck in her breathe before she slowly gets up from the ground. all you wanted to do in this moment was sink into the ground, not sure how you were going to handle seeing ellie pick another girl that isn't you and go fuck her in the closet. too deep in your thoughts, you don't hear the air leave your friends lungs as a certain someone stalks towards you. you only know ellie is right in front of you once you see the beat up sneakers sneak right under your vision.

your eyes widen and you cant breathe. there has to be someone behind you right? no, she could not pick you. in fear that you would be disappointed when looking up, you keep your head down, telling yourself that you're just-

your friend next to you quietly says your name, excitement laced in her voice. she was the only one you told, the only one you could trust with something so personal to you, so to say she was absolutely ecstatic to see ellie pick her best friend, well that was an understatement.

after your quick reality check, your line of vision trails from the top of her feet, all the way to her line of vision, where you see hear towering over you, smirk on her face. you felt like you were going to throw up.

"wanna come with me?" she asks you, that little smile never leaving her face. you look around the room, everyone in just as much shock as you. you look back at ellie, and without thinking twice, you nod your head yes.

she grabs her hand out for you to take, and you two make your way into the closet in between the living room and kitchen, but not before ellie yells something along the lines of keep yourselves busy, and don't be pervs. you feel like you're dreaming, you can't believe ellie williams picked you. but suddenly, you're brought back into reality when she closes the closet and turns on her phone flashlight.

"so," she begins, "how's your night been." you now grow extremely insecure at how little you've been talking to her, not knowing exactly what to do next considering you've never been with a girl.

"oh uh," you begin, "it's been okay. what about yours?" stupid stupid stupid.

"pretty good. saw that guy talking to you. you looked uncomfortable so thought i would save you." she gives a light giggle, but your heart drops and you look at her with sad eyes.

"oh uh yeah haha thanks," you attempt to say, sadness clearly laced in your voice. ellie picks up on it.

"are you okay? did he do anything?" she asks you, coming closer, concern reading all over her face. you blush at how much she cares about you.

"no, no, he didn't do anything, just was annoying," you let out a breathy laugh. "i guess i just thought that we were gonna, ya know, since you picked me, um, never mind this is stupid." your cheeks are now red with embarrassment, and ellies face softens at your rambling.

"aw, no sweetie. just because i picked you doesn't mean we have to do anything. i know you're not into girls." she gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder. ouch. your heart has now sank completely, and you slowly go to reach for the closet door handle. ellie looks confused, before she panics and grabs your hand.

"where are you going? it hasnt been 7 minutes yet sweetheart," she asks you.

"i was just gonna go back. kinda boring just doing nothing here." you tell her sadly.

"well, what do you want to do?" she still hasn't caught on? at this point, you feel like you will never get another chance again. with your ego still a little boosted that she chose you, you answer her.

"i wanna kiss you, ellie," you tell her. she freezes in the spot she's in before she slowly relaxes and relief washes over her face.

"i wanna kiss you too." she tells you. you look up at her, hope in your eyes, and she slowly grabs yours chin with her fingers and pulls you towards her. your lips meet and you both slowly start to make out. now you know why it was called 7 minutes in heaven. pleasure rushed through your body, and you instantly melted into the kiss. it was the first time you actually felt something when kissing someone, and in the bliss of this new feeling, you now put your arms around her shoulders.

the kiss deepens and turns more sinful as ellies hands now trail down to your ass and give it a light squeeze. you moan into her mouth and she groans back in response. her hands now start exploring your body, covering every inch of you until they make their way down towards your loose jeans. you quickly pull away, feeling like a complete virgin even though this kind of stuff is nothing new to you.

"woah, hey, you okay? we can stop if you want," ellie tells you, scared that she may have gone too far.

"no ellie its not you, its just," you try to find the right words. "i've never actually been with a girl before." you tell her, shame written all over your features. she lightly grabs your face once more as she gives you another passionate kiss.

"im happy to help you through it, and if you ever want me to stop, you just tell me." she explains, leaving light kisses all over you exposed next and chest. you moan out as you give her your permission to continue. her lips find her way back to yours, taking control of the kiss. in between each breath, she made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, and how much she had been dreaming of this. you return the compliments, gasping when ellie now picks you up and leans you down on the closet floor.

now on top, she puts all her weight on her elbow, as the other one trails down from your chest, then your stomach, to finally the place where you needed her the most. still kissing you, her fingers undo your buttons. once your jeans were shoved down, and your panties moved to the side, ellie breaks the kiss.

you whine from the loss of contact, and she shushes you. "is it ok if i touch you?" she asks you politely.

"yes, ellie. please touch me," you beg her. "want you so bad." her lips suddenly reconnect with yours, and her fingers start rubbing light circles on your clit. you moan as she teases you, never feeling this way with any guy you've ever been with.

"you make the prettiest noises," she tells you, nipping at your lips. "fuck, and you're so wet too." her talking alone brings you even closer to your high, another new feeling.

you feel her fingers now trail down and tease your entrance, making the most sinful sound. she bites her lips, then starts pumping two fingers inside of you.

your eyes now roll to the back of your head and ellie falls to your side, the new position allowing her to finger you even faster. your head leans into her shoulder, and tears brim in your eyes from how good shes making you feel.

"faster, please," you beg, now staring into her eyes. the innocent look on your face causes her pussy the clench.

"yeah baby? you want me to go faster?" she teases you. "ill do anything for you beautiful." that was enough to send you over the edge, and you start to shake and she speeds up her motions.

"els" is all you can get out, but she knows exactly what you're trying to say, telling you to let go and cum all over her fingers.

and you're about to, until you hear yelling outside the closest door, and people are banging on your door, telling you seven minutes has passed.

you and ellie groan, and you're about to scream out of frustration, before ellies low voice cuts you off.

"i want you to get dressed and meet me outside my car, we can finish this at me." she tells you, a loving look on her face. you giggle and give her a quick peck, before jumping up and putting on your clothes.

you two come out of the closet, rushing towards the front door, completely ignoring all your friends and strangers random questions flying your way.

"where are they going?"

"are they holding hands?"

"do you think they did anything?"

"they so fucked."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

✿ a/n: heh, they came out the closet. anyways, like i said, very personalized im sorry i hit my penjamin and im in my feels but i really hope you guys liked it! my requests are still open! love you all so much and don't forget to follow because i post frequently!! <3

[hard-core-super-star]

caught myself [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: kate's competitiveness gets in the way of her seeing you for who you truly are.

warnings: technically none?; idiots in love; kate technically does knock R on their ass but no one gets hurt; yelena being an awful wingman; kate's sad puppy dog eyes; me feeling rusty af after writing so many serious essays

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: me writing something else instead of focusing on the large pile of requests i still haven't gotten to? yeah, it's more likely than you think. i'll try to get into a somewhat normal posting schedule at some point if uni ever stops kicking my butt BUT FOR NOW, enjoy what was supposed to be a valentine's day special. also, don't worry, kissing in the crossfire part two WILL be happening!

* * * * * * *

You’re not sure what’s worse, being the newest member of the Young Avengers or being the member with the most obvious crush possible. It’s like the universe didn’t think you had enough difficulties getting used to life with your new team, it also thought you needed to juggle having the biggest crush on one of your teammates simultaneously.

Because fighting criminals daily isn’t hard enough, right?

You had tried your hardest to keep your massive crush on a certain purple-loving archer a secret but your plan had gone out the window the second Yelena figured out the hidden feelings behind your lingering stares. To say she didn’t understand your fascination with Kate Bishop would be an understatement but at least she tried to help…in her own, weirdly aggressive, way.

Her help mainly included making ridiculous comments at your expense. Comments that went completely over Kate’s head every single time and only led to awkward silences and unanswerable questions.

You thought the Russian was on her way to giving up and letting you handle your love life problems on your own but of course, when has Yelena given up an opportunity to embarrass someone she cares about?

It’s exactly Yelena’s love of embarrassing you that’s forced you into a situation you wouldn’t be able to get out of if you tried: sparring with the purple archer herself.

Training in the same room as Kate is already bad enough, especially considering her habit of wearing gray sweatpants and a tight purple cropped shirt, but having to spar with her? While she looks that good? And she has that stupid smirk on her face because she knows she’s going to win?

Nothing you could do could stop you from looking like a goddamn fool.

And that’s exactly what you look like right now.

It’s not bad enough that you can’t concentrate enough to anticipate her punches, you also don’t even know where to look because all of her is so damn attractive. It’s impressive and annoying all at the same time and it’s unfortunately taking up too much of your brain space right now.

You’re acutely aware of Yelena’s disapproving looks but you’re even more aware of the constant glares Kate throws in between rapid punches. Your brain may not be working well enough for you to spar correctly but if there’s one thing you can do, it’s dodge…which only infuriates the archer.

“Will you quit moving?” She huffs, only barely stopping her lips from forming a frustrated pout.

“What else am I supposed to do? Let you punch me?” You reply.

“That’d be a good start, yeah.”

“Ladies, quit chattering!”

You know Yelena is being annoying on purpose to get on your nerves but that doesn’t stop you from turning to glare at her. Your mouth barely begins to form around the complaints you want to hurl at her when Kate takes her opportunity.

It’s technically cheating, and it’s incredibly advantageous, but she’s not thinking about any of that. All she wants is to win and she doesn’t think twice. She swipes her leg under both of yours, catching you by surprise and instantly sending you crashing down onto the hard ground.

You don’t get a second to react before the back of your head makes contact with the floor. Large black spots fill your vision as Yelena starts throwing out curses at the startled archer. You barely make out the outline of Kate’s worried face before your eyes slip shut and darkness overcomes you.

You don’t know how much time goes by, or how many times Kate gets scolded in increasingly more aggressive Russian, all you know is that when you wake up…you’re not alone.

Your first instinct when your eyes open again is to sit up but a gentle hand pushes you back down before you get too far. “Don’t try to move, you’re gonna get a killer headache. Trust me.”

“Oh, I’m supposed to trust you after you knocked me on my ass?” You huff. It makes you sound more like a kid throwing a tantrum than an angry Avenger but you don’t really care.

“We were sparring, what else was I supposed to do?”

You don't notice the small grin that accompanies her recycled words, too upset and embarrassed about getting your ass handed to you by someone who's too lost in her own world to notice how much you like her.

“What else was I supposed to do?” You mock her. “Did you try not being a jerk?”

“That’s not fair. You’re the one who ignores me all the time but I’m the jerk here?”

Her words don’t catch you as off guard as the look on her face. You’re expecting to see flashes of the arrogant archer most of your teammates claim exists behind the usual warmth Kate so easily radiates. Instead of anger or arrogance, though, you come face to face with the most overdramatic pout you’ve ever seen.

And you suddenly understand why people say there’s a fine line between love and hate. Because it would be easy to think Kate Bishop is the most annoying person in the world if you didn’t also think she’s the most adorable person you’ve ever met…despite the constant ease with which she turns everything into an argument.

“What are you even talking about?”

“You don’t like me! And you don’t even try to hide it!”

All you can do is stare at her and wonder how the world’s greatest archer also happens to be the world’s most oblivious person. “You’re an idiot, Katherine.”

Her eyebrows crinkle in disgust but you’re pretty sure it has more to do with your use of her legal first name than the insult you push her way. “You sound like my mom.”

“You’re not helping your case.”

She opens her mouth to reply in an instant, a half-formed stupid sentence already forming on the tip of her tongue. You’re expecting yet another unnecessary argument to break out. Yet another reason for you to give up on all your attempts to build a bridge of thoughtful actions and sweet words that will lead you to who Kate truly is under the mask she so effortlessly wears around everyone else.

You’ve learned to expect anything from Kate Bishop. Especially the unexpected.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She adds the tiniest smile and most awkward shrug you’ve ever seen to her soft-spoken apology.

“What did you just say?” You ask, wondering if you hit your head hard enough to be imagining this whole interaction.

“You heard me,” she replies but her tone carries more traces of embarrassment than the cockiness you’re used to. “You’re right, I’m an idiot.”

You’re left dumbstruck, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There’s no way the archer can say those words without some sort of snarky comment coming after it. So you wait. Watching her with curious eyes that only fuel the nervousness bubbling underneath her carefree posture.

It’s strange to realize how little you genuinely know about her. Having a crush on her has ironically been the easiest part of everything. Sure, it’s awkward and annoying and ridiculous but believing you understand her is easier than accepting the fact that Kate’s never let you in.

So why would she start now?

“Are you going to say something?” The subtle crack in her voice reveals the truth she’s trying to hide behind her usual smirk.

There are so many things you want to say but you’re still a little lightheaded and the sudden change in her attitude toward you isn’t helping you keep yourself in check. “I like your smile.”

“Oh.”

You could easily dismiss her reaction as indifferent if it weren’t for the pink hue emerging across her cheeks. It’s subtle and warm and…real. Like her. And it suddenly dawns on you that you’ve never seen Kate Bishop flustered before.

Especially not from one of your compliments. It’s different…and you really like it.

“Can I ask you something, Kate?”

She looks away from you for a second, almost as if she’s scared of what you might say. Of the possibilities that lie in your unspoken feelings. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

Your mouth begins to form one of the many questions you’ve wanted to ask the archer since you met her but then her eyes find yours again and you get a glimpse into the fear-filled storm inside their depths.

It’s subtle but the armor made from cocky grins and imperfectly timed jokes begins to crack.

Which means there’s no way you’re going to spring such a loaded question on her just yet. As much as you’d love an answer to the one thing that’s been haunting you since you realized your true feelings for her, there’s no way you’d force her when it’s clear it’s been far too long since she’s let herself be vulnerable around someone.

So, you settle for the only thing you need right now: her.

“Can you stay with me?” You do your best to ignore the warmth that spreads along your face as the words slip out of your mouth. “Yelena doesn’t have the best bedside manner.”

A beat of silence goes by before her lips form a genuine smile. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Her eyes nervously flick around the room in search of somewhere to sit. You watch her for a few seconds before putting her out of her anxious misery.

“Kate…” You trail off, doing your best to hold in your laughter as you pat the empty space beside you. “You can sit here, I won’t bite.”

Your words are all it takes for her nervousness to turn back into her usual goofiness. “Really? That’s not what I’ve heard…”

“So you do talk shit about me!”

[bunkerjking]

The emotional breakdown later in the chapter will get most of the attention, but for my money, this is the most revealing moment in this week's chapter. A teenager so disconnected from his real emotions that he desperately rationalizes his hypersexuality not as a coping mechanism, but as 'this is what guys are like.'

It's easy to make fun of men for burying their emotions and then asking, 'why doesn't anyone know who I really am' - hell, Denji literally does that during the Bomb Girl arc - but Denji is a pretty direct criticism of both the way boys can get forced into unhealthy gender roles, and the way men self-regulate themselves and others into them.

The other boys Denji is with don't have the problem of being horny at inappropriate times. They have WAY bigger problems.

But Denji can't think properly when someone dangles the idea of sex in front of him. It's like a switch flips and he becomes a completely different person.

He shuts down and reverts to trying to embody masculine stereotypes he's been ingrained with, both through the social conditioning of growing up male in the 90s and the psychological conditioning Makima put him through to strengthen 'Chainsaw Man' - itself a hyper-masculine ideal that a human being physically cannot measure up to - and emotionally cripple Denji.

Denji is at his happiest when he's at rest with the people he loves. Power and Aki were not always easy to be around, but they loved him back and they wanted him to be happy. Nayuta is a child who doesn't understand her place in the world - how could she - but she earnestly wants to help her big brother as best as she can.

He isn't some cock-swinging alpha badass constantly on the prowl to crush puss, but for a lot of people - especially a teenager who was groomed to be an expendable child soldier - this unhealthy masculine 'ideal' isn't just something to live up to, it's the expected norm for men to be.

Being Chainsaw Man doesn't make Denji mentally stronger. As shown in the Falling Devil fight, he literally chops up his brain with his chainsaws to avoid confronting his trauma. Whenever he has to think about what he's lost and what's still left to lose, he runs toward something he isn't and away from a 'normal,' healthy response to the issues at hand.

"You stupid boy."

You'll notice that Katana Man, a perfect embodiment of an overly masculine dickhead, a misogynistic moron who refuses to grow in character or even basic combat skills, is totally on board for throwing Denji in a brothel and letting what happens happens. Katana Man perfectly represents the bad ending where 'traditional masculinity' wins the war for Denji's soul.

Denji needs help. Not some quick gratification. Not a meal and a nut and a nap. He needs genuine help, and a better male role model than the ones he's got. Even Kishibe, the only adult in his life other than Aki who actually did more good than harm, is an alcoholic recluse.

God help the boy.

[with-my-murder-flute]

Cristabel and the proverbial sandwich

(Spoilers for Harrow and Nona the Ninth)

I have not known inner peace since I saw someone say, "But come on, does anyone ACTUALLY buy John's story about how the nun died?"

Because honestly, I'd just kind of gone, "Super random, very weird interaction, boy there sure are cult mindworms at play here," and moved on to the next page.

But as soon as I saw that question asked, the amount I did not buy that story hit me like a load of bricks, to the point I'm kind of amazed that I ever did believe it.

Two people. A locked door. A nuclear standoff. A close-range head injury.

On one side, a full-fledged Catholic nun—well done, that’s the classic—who's best friends with a staunchly atheist world-class scientist and believes, if we're to believe John, that Jesus's problem is that he didn't stick to office hours.

On the other, a woman described as, "A total delight. Effervescent. Kind to animals and children. A master of the sword. Did not have the intellect you’d ordinarily find in a sandwich or an orange, and was a sickening twerp into the bargain."

Oh, and in the middle, there's also a necromancer who wants to bring back his friends... minus any little details about things he they might have done wrong. He "knows where memory lives in the brain", and they "won't have any of it." And "guys as careful as me don't make mistakes," but then again, all that means is that if he kills someone, he did it on purpose.

C— talks her way into a locked room with John, who's on the phone threatening some world leaders with a nuke, expresses care and concern for him, and then... decides he needs more data on the soul? And kills herself to provide that for him?

I'll be honest, I just don't believe that John was an ordinary guy, totally normal, could be any of us, and he just got put in a really stressful situation and made some bad choices but who HASN'T done things they aren't proud of??? I reject that point of view completely. Like, Elon Musk in any given interaction probably is really stressed out and unhappy and having trouble responding in a way that's at all well-considered or emotionally mature, but that doesn't mean that Musk isn't also, at baseline, a deeply stupid, petty, immature, grandiose, entitled, egocentric person. No matter what situation you put him in, he's going to keep on being those things.

I think that John's initial idea was to put the entire human population of Earth, minus some necessary staff, into some giant cryonic freezers, and give the Earth some amount of time to rest and recover from the effects of human-caused pollution. A plan about which I will confess some hesitation myself; being told "just lie down in this coffin, bro, you'll only be a little dead, I'll totally bring you back to life* in a couple centuries (*98% effective!) " does not fill me with an enthusiasm to hop on board.

And then his project got cut. And he decided, "Well, if they won't agree, I can just make them agree." After all, all that end game needs is 10 billion frozen corpses hanging out in those tin cans, and a small team of staff left to keep the place running. How it gets there is something he can afford to be flexible about. If people won't climb in on their own, he can put them there.

So when C— or the nun tell him to stop focusing on revenge, to bend all his energies to saving the world, I think he thinks: Well, I am. He's gonna wash the earth clean at the end of this! He just needs to be able to set the dominoes in motion. He just needs to engineer a situation that will justify taking his nuke out of the vault and making the pieces fall.

A situation that would be sabotaged, ruined, if anyone made a true deep sincere good-faith effort to talk him out of Plan Nuke and called the legitimacy of this crisis into any sort of question. He needs to prevent that from happening.

Actually. Also. He needs one more thing than that.

He needs an excuse to use the nuke, but also, he's finishing his homework at the very last minute. He still hasn't mastered the soul. He does need a few more test subjects.

Maybe he let her in and thought: Two birds with one stone, eh?

[fruityfroggy]

I somehow feel worse now.

How is life real?

I hate life and I’m feeling fuckin nauseous 🎀

Procrastination should go burn in hell✨

[suguru-getos]

patience | gojo satoru x f!reader | part 1 |

a/n: here i go with another chapterwise fic :3 but this is mostly self-indulgent because i just need to vent it out ya'll. summary: you've just resigned from your job, life seems hectic and you're on the verge of drowning from all the mental stress. a certain stranger you meet after office at an ice-cream shop, has distracted you from wallowing in your own mess however.

a parted sigh escaped your lips, after thinking long and hard. you decide this was worth it. yes, this must be. this has to be… you have no other choice. would you rather let the stress claw you up inside out? eat you and make you hollow? speaking of hollow, frankly, you don't remember when was the last time you had felt fulfilled. or had felt an ounce of happiness coursing through your veins. there is nothing remotely similar to that in your cut-throat world. someone would say, y/n that's just being a tad too dramatic, you earn a lot of money. you have such a lavish lifestyle, you can afford what you want… then why does your chest tighten every time you wake up? why do you have to remind yourself to breathe… why is that your showers have been extravagantly longer? why is that you end up in your head for days.

you swallow a lump in your throat while you think about all this, the red bottomed heels that you wear are aching, they feel like you'd pass out from the restriction of being so prim and proper all the time. you want to wear soft, fluffy slides, you want to perish, you want to live.

you had been disassociating in your desk for what feels like ages, before sending your manager that pre-prepared email.

hi manager_name,

"as of today (date) I am formally resigning. let me know how I can help with the smooth handover process"

regards,

yes, this helps, this really does help. your stomach lunges down when you hit send though. a pit of bubbling what if's searing through your abdomen.

your watch vibrates just in time, stupid fucking apple watch - "log in about how you feel today", you laugh in disbelief. shit… you feel like absolute shit. what else is one supposed to feel? or maybe, when you think back, you don't know what it is that makes you feel numb. why can't you just be fucking happy. the world surely isn't ending. definitely isn't.

the rest of the day passes by in a haze, you are pulled in back to back meetings where you have to constantly remind yourself to put a smile on your face, to have the tone with which you speak polite, to tell about your reason being you need a break from it all. over and over and over. some of them believe you, some of them don't really. not your problem, not your circus, not your monkeys.

"I'd just like to remind that you can't take any leaves during the notice period. especially for the smooth transition of your roles and responsibilities." your manager hums, eyes carrying foul judgement. "of course, have read the policy." you retort, the thing is, you don't want to sound so judgemental and so snappy… but somehow your brain doesn't function well with all the cumulative stress you've been carrying.

once the hellish meetings get over, you get up from the cabin, plastering the 'I don't give a fuck' face on and walking back to your place. your throat feels dry with all the talking you have done, hands reflexively reaching for your tumbler. you find out it's empty. of course. when the little-est things are capable of pissing you off, then, and only then does this happen.

you get up, walking towards the common water purifier cooler to fill it up, one of your colleagues walking over to you and smiling. "hi y/n" you hate her, she is a condescending bitch if nothing else, amongst one of those people who are highly insecure themselves, and would paint the same insecurity all over others to normalize their feelings. there have been several instances, she's looped you into things she does, which you hate and don't want to be associated with. for example: last week, she says, "oh y/n, we both are so similar and don't tolerate bullshit, I think you can still be fake around the others but jeez, I can't pretend." then don't pretend? and how can she decide what you feel? and what you think? sometimes it's nasty comments about where did you get your clothes from, where is the glittery eye-shadow that you’re wearing from, and then she goes ahead and tells you where it's from… man, you're realizing you're starting to dislike everything and everyone. does overstimulation make someone so snappy you wonder? if that's the case, how can you really get over it? do you need a trip to the mountains? a trip to the beach? what the fuck is it that you fucking need! "oye- y/n" the snap of her finger brings you back to reality. you plaster another smile, "hello, sorry, I was just thinking about something." "have you lost some weight? I don't understand how you get time to do all that with us working full time." there she goes again, you look at your body, if anything, you've gained a few pounds within the last few weeks. "no, I don't think so." "come on, you don't have to lie about your workout routine, be a girl's girl." you want to be a violence's girl and hit her in the fucking head with a chair. "I think maybe the outfit is giving you the illusion that I've lost a few pounds." you hummed, happy to walk away or you'll lose your grip.

after you resigned, the behaviours change. suddenly everyone thinks you're a traitor, someone who can't stay with the group and has to walk away. it's evident with the way they look at you. your eyes glance at the clock, and a wave of relief washes over you. just 30 more minutes, and you'll be off from work. another minute of relief. maybe you should go outside and take a smoke… you sigh and lean back against your chair, gnawing at your lip.

what does it mean to be truly happy? you wonder really… were you truly happy when all your friends/colleagues who have resigned now, were there with you? nope. you'd hate to admit to yourself, and the idea stings your eyes with tears… but you don't remember how it feels to be truly happy. it's pathetic to be in a state of equilibrium or sadness always. 2-3 years ago, you had reached a state of despair and had taken anti-depressants and therapy. they just make you robotic, what even could help… nothing does… nothing NOTHING NOTHING!

after spiralling, while looking completely put together, you get up and leave the work premises. stress-eating, you've been doing that a lot these days. maybe a sugar rush would help, yes, it should help. your feet walk towards the ice-cream shop close to your work, and you mumble, "madagascar chocolate ice cream please." the vendor knows you already, you visit frequently. which is why you know the exact price of the cone and transfer the money to him. "I'll have what she's having" you hear an unfamiliar voice from beside you, you've been stuck in your head so much, you totally ignored that there is a looming, tall man standing next to you. your head tilts up, and up, and up. jesus christ he's tall. his hair are white, and he's wearing glasses. it's evening… why is he wearing those glasses. you'd admit your thoughts evaporated the second you laid your eyes on him. ethereal, handsome, angelic, godly. he looked like an angel. wearing a loose fitted black tee shirt that accentuated his prodding collar bone. he looked rich, you knew he was. the cologne was unmistakable. you are not sure whether you'd like to talk any further, because it didn't feel like he's very much interested, his eyes are still dead set on the menu.

the vendor gives your ice-cream to you first, and then gives him the same scoop. you turn to walk away, when the man mumbles, "I trusted you, and this is bitter." you blink, you…? is he talking to you? you turned around and looked at him. "well, are you talking to me?" satoru's smile turns bigger, you looked so small compared to him, just holding your silly little ice-cream. the work bag and the outfit is a stark contrast to your face though. the little eye bags in your eyes as well. you seem, tired, overwhelmed and exhausted. still, you look beautiful. frankly, satoru is approached by so many ladies, he was intrigued what got you living in your head so much that you don't even notice him standing next to you. women slither around him to get his number, he's had a few… distractions to keep himself sane with his line of work. peculiar. you seemed quite peculiar.

"yes, I am talking to you." he walks closer to you, watching how your face tilts up again to make eye contact. "what’s your name?" he hums, taking another lick of the ice-cream. "well, since you talked to me first, I suppose you should be the one to introduce yourself first?" oh she bites… satoru's grin only turns wider. "satoru gojo. jesus." he laughs, "you know one of my colleagues remind me of you, always snappy and yelling and just… a little weak. it's cute. not her, I mean- she is just a plain nuisance." was this dude being condescending to you? your eye twitches, jaw flexing. "well, I didn't know you were so eager to make opinions about others just from a single sentence." his smile fades a little, "not really, maybe you're just too competitive, miss still hasn't told me her name." you hummed, "my name is y/n" your eyes circle back to him what a handsome fucking twink! "and not my problem you decided to trust a complete stranger and ordered the same ice-cream as mine, only to not like it. I'm not paying for it." satoru chuckles, "of course, I'm not asking you to pay for it, I have more than enough to buy this entire ice-cream chain and seize control of it all over the world, and then, ban your silly little flavour for good." joking… he's joking, but his smile drops when he sees the joke only offended you further. you don't look happy, you only look pissed at him. and perhaps disappointed. "not like I'd do that, over you not telling me your name directly." he waves his hand, dismissing that proposal. "I hope you enjoy having more than enough to buy entire ice-cream companies." you retort, "I have to go home, good bye." of course you have to go home, you are dancing between your two feet in those cramping heels. "those heels are expensive too." satoru comments, looking down at your feet. you look at him, what was even this dude's deal? "okay? yes? I don't know what you mean?" "I mean, the flavour of the ice-cream was expensive, the one you ate, and I hated it. the heels you're wearing, expensive, and you hate it… except you're not saying that you hate it?" those heels were new, and true, they scathed your heel. "hmm, whatever, I like them, which is why I bought them. I didn't trust some random stranger to buy red-bottoms. and I'm happy with them, they're just new. new things take time to adapt. they have to adapt to my feet, I have to adapt to them. if you had been careful enough to adapt to the ice-cream and not giving up on it, you'd have liked madagascar chocolate flavour too." you cross your arms and look at him with a pout. serene, you look serene for once. it’s a different emotion than what satoru saw when he came inside the ice-cream parlour. maybe, you're right. he shrugs, "if I don't like anything first time, first glance, it's not my thing." he responded, and you nodded. "makes sense, I liked these heels, and I will bear the consequences." you squinted. what were you even conversing about with a bloody stranger?

"ah, you don't have to you know?" WHAT IS IT WITH HIM… "I WANT TO!" you're already overstimulated, jesus fucking christ! heels heels heels, ice cream ice cream ice cream YOU WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE! a second or two later, you realize you had lost it on a complete stranger, tears brimming in your eyes, you have been keeping it in for so long even the slightest of nudge would have caused you to collapse. that was the sole reason you came here to have ice-cream in the first place. and now, you've lost it.

satoru's eyes widen a little when he sees your eyes glossy, a stray tear falling from them. "sorry, little girl. uh- I like your ice-cream flavour, it's strong- and it's- chocolatey- and it's- creamy- I like the heels- they really-" oh he's unsure what to say. he did have an inkling that you were someone who didn't seem at her best, he is perceptive enough for that, but he just didn't know that you were so easy to break right now. part of him feels a little guilty, another part of him feels numb, he's seen people killed, he's killed people. what would a stranger's tears be worth?

"that's fine. sorry I've just been having a shitty day." you mumbled, evading eye contact and looking at your feet. "I understand" satoru is quick to comment, smiling again. "y/n, you're too pretty to cry." the next sentence betrays all logic whatsoever in satoru's mind. you blink, attention diverted from the way you had made things awkward to the bubbling compliment. "thanks?" you snort, wiping your tears. satoru smiles, he doesn't know why he said that, but hey, that's the truth. "I usually don't tear up over petty things, it's just these past few weeks have been a mess and I've just resigned from my job so… don't worry I'm fine." your explanation makes satoru grin wider, so protective of yourself. "good, now you don't have to wear those shitty heels anymore, you can wear those comfy and nice side ons? you know? the ones with fur? and wear jammies maybe." you look at him and your eyes soften. YES, YES THAT'S EXACTLY IT!

you nodded, "yeah, and then eventually, I'll be a happy girl." you say this with such doubt it's pathetic.

satoru's heart does something to him when you say it like that, like what do you mean? "you don't sound sure y/n" he pouts, both your ice-creams melting by now. "well, I am half sure, I am fine otherwise anyways.." you look up at him again, god he's pretty, and why were you talking to a stranger! "well, maybe if I can have your number and check for myself?" bold, satoru can be bold when he wants something. "what would you do about it even if I am not happy?" "something different than you…" "why?" "see this is why you're not happy, just relax y/n chan!" he chuckles, because he doesn’t know either. he just, said it in a whim… and he means it, he likes you… the realization of all these feelings is happening so fast for him, he doesn't want you to take him like a fluke. "fine." you mumble, exchanging contacts with him. "I have to go home, I am tired." you mumble, finally walking away. he just nods, waving bye and observing you walk away from him, standing still, just watching like you're the main character in a movie. silly girl, now he's replaying this conversation in his head over and over and over with a silly lovesick grin.

[oneslimybastard]

Another underutilized aspect of N, Natural Harmonia Gropius himself, is that he's conceptualized as not just a Math Guy, but a Math Genius if we go by some interview trivia notated on Bulbapedia.

It clearly shows in the way he speaks since his (translated) dialogue (idk about the original japanese one) is full of hamfisted references to formulas and frustration expressed when the chaos of the world does not align with them — which to me is like, the core of his character, something that makes him both An Asshole to deal with but also a very intellectually curios and creative individual. It's just a brand of creativity not a lot of people can keep up with nor understand.

N likes math because a lot of math is about clearly defined variables and their relationship to one another. If you come across an inconsistency that doesn't fit any prior definitions, you iron out a new definition and suddenly the field has expanded upon itself tenfold. It aligns with how his Very Autistic Brain functions, x + y = z, if I do x to y then z will happen. If z doesn't happen, then that just means I have to identify the hidden variables within the exchange and rewrite the formula to be more accurate.

Black and White's quality of writing is. Like pokémon often is. Questionable at best. The foundations are there but the execution is dumbed down and corny because it's still aimed at kids, BW in specific really cutting the theme of pokémon trainer ethics short in favor of just "dang u beat me in the pogiebattle guess ur right!". How-ev-er. In my head, and the reason why I still find the plot of those games compelling (aside for my unhinged thirst for goth man-milf Ghetsis) is that to me they're about local cult-raised autist Normal Henry Gropus bashing his head against the world over and over to desperately try and make the formulas make sense, to distill it into variables he can understand and predict on a consistent basis, and failing miserably at it. Because even if the world is Technically made up of a bunch of chemistry that you could, in theory, predict, there's just a lot of random noise in there from microscopic complexities that fuck everything up.

Pokémon are simpler creatures (discounting the eerily intelligent ones) who will be nice enough to behave like math problems most of the time. Humans rarely extend that grace, the more N studies them like a science project the more contradictory variables pop up. They have a million thoughts in their head he doesn't have access to, that brew into feelings he doesn't understand, which leads to actions he can't do a proper traceback through. Which is frustrating, devastatingly frustrating. At least at first.

Due to how BW2 pans out and my own yearning for thematic mirroring, whereas Ghetsis gives in to the Autistic Bitterness over all these NTs he doesn't fuckign understand, I like to think N develops a sort of joy in studying people like the impossibly complex math problems we are. Because he likes math, he likes figuring shit out, he likes buying a nightmare rubik's cube and charting the squares out on a nightmare variable graph (listen i am not a math guy. i respect the hustle but my skill level is too low to accurately attempt to simulate the process in writing. im sorry math guys) so he has a home-made flexible cheat code on how to solve any possible mix-up of it. It's fun for him, it stimulates his brain and he is so stupid good at it that he can only share that joy with like a stray alakazam or metagross because he's a bit of a tarzan just hanging out in the wilderness, he doesn't know any high end mathematicians he can casually geek out about combinatorial game theory with, and the normies just do not get it .

I think this math enjoying is kind of a big part of his ~Innocence~ as well, since there's a lot of childlike glee to being a Math Guy. It's the love of problem solving as a process rather than a means to an end, it's playful, but severely misunderstood to the point where people kinda might assume things about you if you are a math guy.

N's love of math helps him love the world but it also isolates him. He's a genius, but since he can't communicate it in a palatable way it'll get overlooked in favor of him just being a loomy weirdo on the street chatting up the local patrats.

If introduced to DnD though he'd spend so much time on forging ridiculously optimized multiclass builds, then migrate to digging through old obscure sci-fi ttrpgs from the 80s with hellishly complex systems just for the funsies of learning how the presented variables behave within a variety of frameworks, but then if you actually invited him to play with your group he'd look at you like you'd just called his mom a llama.

He's a neat guy to me, STEM guy who's also one of those animal rights activists who's a little too PETA-coded, I like him :)

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, this is probably a stupid question but would it make sense/be accurate for an autistic character to have, like,,,,, normal facial expressions, at the correct time (like when they're happy or sad) like a neurotypical person? Without having to mask and intentionally force themselves to make those faces?

I'm autistic but I don't think I do this. I don't talk to people unless I absolutely have to and my memory is dogshit so I can't recall any times when people have commented on my facial expressions, and I definitely do make expressions sometimes, just maybe not in the right contexts or not very often.

I'm making a comic and one of the characters is autistic and very based on my own symptoms (she's the main character so since she gets a lot of screen time, I figured it would be easiest if I already knew how to represent her).

My reasoning behind wanting her expressive is:

There are already two other characters with autism who are pretty blank and expressionless.

It's a comic and I want to draw a lot of fun expressions, I want her to be able to smile softly and snarl and look baffled and make all kinds of faces, without her having to mask and constantly be miserable.

But my problem is that I want her to actually have autism. And when I look up posts online from other people, I'm really not seeing a whole lot of "Oh yeah I can emote and make facial expressions exactly like a normal person, in the correct contexts, automatically without masking."

So I'm not sure at this point if this is something we can even do? I've seen quite a few autistic people say that our brains literally do not work this way.

Maybe, would it be possible that she has the opposite problem most autistic people do? Most of us are sort of blank and expressionless and have to mask and make ourselves look happy/surprised/angry.

I thought that instead, she could be TOO expressive, so she would have the correct expressions at the correct times (looking angry when she's angry) but she wouldn't notice this, and would make the wrong expression at a bad time?

For example, if she was at a funeral and found something funny, she would unintentionally smile/scrunch her face up and everyone would get pissed because "Omg girl their grandma got killed by a dragon and you're laughing?"

So most autistics = masking to create expressions

But her = masking to remove expressions

I hope this makes sense It's midnight and I need to sleep lmao

Hi asker!

I just wanted to say that it is, in fact, possible for autistic people to be naturally expressive. A flat or flatter affect might be more common, and many autistic people mask to create expressions. But that doesn't mean all!

Me, personally, I'm autistic. I've been called expressive pretty often. I generally smile when I'm happy, frown when I'm pissed off, widen my eyes when I'm surprised – expressions you'd consider normal. This happens less often the more tired I am, and in my diagnosis debrief I was told that what I do that isn't normal is that I don't direct expressions to people: basically, that I don't use expressions to communicate with others, they just sort of happen. Which surprised me, because I saw communication as kind of a side effect of expressions as opposed to the main purpose, if that makes sense?

One of my adult family members is autistic as well. They are also very expressive, in fact kind of too expressive like you mention your character could be. They can't really hide the facial expressions they do (that generally correspond to typical expressions) and so can't really hide what they're feeling, even when it would be better to hide it. Their version of masking would be working to remove these expressions, which they don't actually do, but that would be the case.

That's two examples of people with autism that are pretty typically expressive, yet still show social/communication difficulties even in that. So: what you're describing is definitely possible.

As a side note:

Autism is two-fold: social/communication difficulties, and restrictive/repetitive behavior. Everyone who has autism experiences those two aspects. However, autism is also very varied in how these things present, so be wary of anything or anyone that says something (other than those two things) applies to either absolutely all or absolutely no autistic people. Sure, some presentations are more common – like a flat affect, or lack of eye contact, or how hand-flapping is a common stim. But no single presentation is universal. And on top of that, 'difficulties with social communication' doesn't have to mean 'difficulties with every single aspect of this.' It can! But it doesn't always.

Also, wow, I have typed the word "expression" so much that it barely seems like a real word right now!

– mod sparrow

[banamine-bananime]

AITA for trying to save my friend and keep the rest of my asshole friends safe from their bad decisions?

I (M26) just went through this real shitty breakup. So basically, my ex C (M lmao man fuck if i know his age idek if knows it. or has one i guess) has this god-fucking-awful habit of deciding to solve every problem by dying about it and/or fucking off without so much as a word to the people unfortunate enough to give a shit about him, except maybe his sister (unhelpful for the rest of us because she also inherited the "fucking off without a word" gene. man fuck this whole family for making me care about them. whatever). Also, killing himself inside peoples brains thats like a whole hobby for him. like okay either ghost us OR kill yourself in front of us altering the trajectory of our lives forever PICK ONE like a NORMAL person.

Okay wait im not explaining this well. So years ago C and W (M37 now) were partners but C was, uh, in a really bad place mentally (S is telling me this is more diplomatic to say than "crazy af") and that situationship ended as badly as a situationship can end. I mean W's told me he pretty much had his sense of identity as someone separate from C totally destroyed by that for a while, which like, in hindsight its kinda an accidental dick move that our team made him take C's legal identity, but in our defense a) the fuck were we supposed to know?, b) tbf he really did need it not to go back to prison, c) it's not like C was using his identity, on account of the fucking off and effectively-dying-as-a-solution habits, and d) i mean. i gotta admit it's also pretty funny in a really fucked way.

aw shit derailed on a tangent again

recently its just like, we just get so focused on one thing its hard to remember anything else, you know?

S is so good at getting us back on track though. thank god because you would not believe the number of irons weve got in the fire to keep track of, its ridiculous. (i love making my partner be the planner in the relationship lol. highly recommend being a passenger princess in the body sometimes. fuck massages, i'm telling you THIS is what you need after a long day getting shit DONE and taking care of everyone else's messes)

So I met C 6 years ago, right out of basic, when we were privates stationed at the same base. middle of nowhere. shit, this is gonna be hard to explain, just realized i should use different names for C to keep them straight. I knew "A" and W knew "E", i didnt meet E until years later. theyre alters and also the same guy but also not the same guy. dont worry about it if you dont get it bc ive dated both of them and i dont think i do. my life is stupid.

Bunch of bullshit happened, A ghosted (lol. you'd be high-fiving me if you knew him) and then found a problem to solve by dying. you get it by now.

Then i meet E, E encounters a problem and tries to die about it round one (i guess round two, after exploding in W <- LOL. you should be high-fiving me right now), E's sister drags him back to the land of the living, E ghosts, W and i start dating, W tries to martyr himself and disappears because i guess E rubbed off on him (dude i am on a fucking roll. you should be high-fiving me out of pity for my glamorously miserable soap-opera life if nothing else. homophobic not to), our team gets W back, E strolls back like he has no idea why im mad at him, we fight about it, makeup-makeouts about it, and E tries to die about it round two: in my brain boogaloo.

So thats how S and i meet. oops, guess i never introduced S? Feels weird to have to introduce ourself twice, people dont really meet us separately anymore LOL. S (M, ageless) is also C's alter, my partner in life and badassery and brain and body. and obviously freaky sex stuff, that goes without saying but i'm saying it anyway to brag. the swish swish to my stabbing people who really deserve it. Not really interested in your opinion on our relationship, it's not what i'm asking about. we're aware its not conventional, because we're not fucking braindead. Im so sick of all the "oooohhhhh this isn't healthy", "he's a male manipulator and youre codependent i know bc i learned psychology from tiktoks by girls with green hair", "why are you wearing your ex-boyfriend's armor colors while wearing his dead ex-boyfriend's armor while dating and sharing a brain with your dead mutual ex's alter", "have you considered going to therapy instead of a quest against death itself" blah blah blah. If youre so bored you need to judge our life then just get your own 🙄🙄🙄

we've been really on that sigma grindset the last few weeks. S has got our sleep optimized down to a tight triphasic 3.46 hours and we're minmaxing the fuck out of the rest of every day. Biohacked to shit over here. too much to do, so we have to make there be enough of our time to do it. who else is gonna? my teammates? the REDS? we're half batman half babysitter to a gaggle of idiots who can barely be trusted to wipe their own asses, let alone fight their own battles and make decisions like "wah wah wah A is dead let's just give up and cry about it or whatever".

Don't even get me started on W. Oh youre all about character-building wake up and grind self-improvement and taking leadership until we're making decisions you dont like, i guess. WHATEVER. this is why we dont listen to you.

its hard, okay. like, you cant understand the sheer fucking stress were under trying to keep all our plans going smoothly while keeping these guys safe while they're basically actively trying to unravel every carefully-laid thread and also strangle themselves in them. im probably going prematurely grey and also losing some time. its hard to remember when we need to hold back and use the kiddy gloves. i really didnt want to come to holding - uh, we'll call him MC (M25) - by the throat, passed-out. he's like a brother to me, been through thick and fucking thin together, so yeah, i feel really bad about that, my bad, we were the asshole there, but like, maybe stop throwing yourself in the way? like run out into the road you're gonna get hit by a truck no matter how hard they slam the brakes. mfw the conses quence. but im NOT asking about that. everyone's been on our dick about "please god stop doing all of this" and abandoning A and trying to break us up way before that, and THAT'S what im asking about

Anyways tl;dr are we the asshole for getting shit done when it takes methods that all our monday morning quarterback friends dont like

_____

OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might be the asshole:

it really was a dick move to dangle my teammate's limp body in a chokehold even though it was basically an accident and also not even directly relevant to the question

OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might not be the asshole:

okay but we're right

[copperbadge]

lightwit

I love your mindfulness posts. I personally hate the concept of mindfulness with a passion because to me that's just normal being human and using your effing brain properly, but as an educator I have had to accept the fact that manymany people do not in fact have much self awareness and actually do benefit from this mumbojumbo. So, I am so glad I am not the only one struggling out here. 😜

I hope it's okay if I pop this into its own post because it actually gets at something I'm contending with. So, in order to get my research lined up and my thoughts in a row for therapy I turned all this research into a powerpoint called "Doing A Stupid Powerpoint For My Stupid Mental Health". And one of the slides in it is titled "Mindfulness: Petition To Rename It".

Mindfulness, as a term, is uselessly broad; it's such a bad way to identify a category of treatment/behavior that there appears to be an entire subgenre of scientific papers that work to create a framework of what Mindfulness actually is -- I read at least three papers, all published in the last ten years, that are like "What is Mindfulness in a useful sense?" and all of them had different answers. And because Mindfulness is now a buzzword, if you're researching it then you're likely to run into everything from scholarly articles to pop journalism to clickbait, to both harmless and genuinely dangerous peddlers of quack science. And sometimes the quack scientists are also publishing scholarly articles where they've just been p-hacking.

So I'm inclined to agree that mindfulness is mostly nonsense, but that's a problem with the term, not what falls underneath it. There are therapeutic modes that call themselves mindfulness that actually are rooted in real science. I think these should probably have a new name, like Therapeutic Awareness or something, but it'd just get co-opted back into the woo, I have a feeling.

So there's a lot of nonsense, but the goal of being present in the moment and self-aware isn't an idle one; there's an increasing body of knowledge suggesting that it's a foundational skill for emotional regulation and healthy coping. The scholarship goes way beyond "mindfulness arises from Buddhist practice" which if I have to read one more time I'm gonna throw stuff. Clinical testing is looking at things like physiological responses to mindfulness behaviors that have nothing to do with what's going on in your conscious mind. There's some woo surrounding "Coherent Breathing" and I don't trust the foremost proponent of it as far as I can throw him, but he didn't invent it, and testing shows that people trained in and practicing Coherent Breathing have better focus and can, to an extent, lower the level of stress hormone in their body. "Positive affect" (happy emotions) didn't rise, but "Negative affect" (sadness, anger, stress etc) was lowered.

A lot of what's being studied on a clinical level involves us as humans somehow activating shit in our nervous system that we have no conscious control over, the same way we develop muscle memory by doing a task repeatedly. That has measurable value for the issues I'm trying to solve, but it's not universally applicable, which is another reason so much of mindfulness comes across as junk science, because it tries to tell us that it's a cure-all when it isn't.

But there's reason to believe that if you can reroute your nervous system when you're starting to become upset, you can short-circuit maladaptive reactions and prevent it from causing a spiral or an over-reaction or similar, and some practices called mindfulness can train for that. And that's my goal, so I'm willing to rummage in the garbage for the gold.