#its bad but we were like 4 and i never personally did it

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[weezerlvr228]

It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???

NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.

[wishful-seeker]

Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist

1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.

Example:

Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."

Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"

This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.

Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."

Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"

This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.

Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.

To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.

2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.

For example:

Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"

Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."

Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making YOU uncomfortable?

3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."

Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."

This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.

4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.

For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.

5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.

6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.

For example:

Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"

Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"

Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.

7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.

For example:

Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."

Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"

This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

[notlongtolove]

your hand in my hand

after derek’s less-than-intellectual speech about how he was not spending four uninterrupted hours on a train with reid, hotch’s solution was to pair you with spencer instead. and between your notorious driving and spencer’s—well, spencer’s worse driving, the only logical option was the train.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: mutual pining spencer and bau!reader embark on a 4 hour train ride and share some cute moments over a wordsearch book

word count: 3.1k

note: finished finals n hopped on a flight n came back n wrote this on 4 hours of sleep jst bc i couldn't get the idea of a train ride out of my head...

a line: The sight of your bag in his hand was one you could get used to. It was a sight that made you think of Sunday mornings and shared coffee mugs.

It’s beautiful out there— fields, little lakes and winter trees in February sunlight, every car park a shining mosaic. Long radiant minutes, your hand in my hand, still warm, still warm. -wendy cope

“I still think this is a terrible idea.”

“It’s only a four-hour train ride.”

“Yeah, but it could’ve been a two-hour drive.”

“Two? It’s three at the minimum. Danville is—”

“Not if I’m driving,” you smirk. 

“And that is exactly why I told Hotch I would not be getting in a car with you.”

Hotch had assigned you and Spencer to check out a secondary lead while the rest of the team travelled out to work a case. After Derek’s less-than-intellectual speech about how he was not spending four uninterrupted hours on a train with Reid, Hotch’s solution was to pair you with Spencer instead. And between your notorious driving and Spencer’s—well, Spencer’s worse driving, the only logical option was the train.

Not that it stopped Spencer from pointing out every possible flaw in your driving on the way to the station.

“I’m not that bad, I swear!” you had protested, rolling your eyes.

“You got two speeding tickets in the last month.”

“One month,” Garcia had chimed in over the phone. “And actually, technically, it’s three tickets.”

You groaned. “The third one didn’t count! The cop was just—”

“And don’t even get me started on your sense of direction,” Spencer mumbled. 

“Pretty girl, I love you, but I’d get in a car with Reid before you, and that’s saying a lot,” Morgan’s voice rang out from over the line.

“Thank you!—Wait, hey!” Spencer spluttered.

By the time you make it to the station, its clear that your BAU Jet Privileges had not prepared you for public transportation. “Wheels up in thirty” definitely did not translate to “trains only leave when you’re ready.”

“Can’t we just tell them we’re, like, important or something?” you grumbled, stretching to peek over the crowd in front of you.

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Spencer muttered, clutching his satchel as he scanned the line. His brow furrowed in that nervous way you’ve come to recognize, the one he always got when cases ran too close to the wire or people hovered just a little too close in his personal space.

As they announced the final boarding call over the station’s intercom, Spencer’s anxiety ramped up, practically vibrating beside you. You, of course, were less concerned. “Relax,” you teased, nudging him. “What are they gonna do, leave without us?”

“Yes,” Spencer snapped. “That’s actually exactly what they’re going to do.”

When a harried-looking attendant opened a new line to speed things up, Spencer grabbed your bag—“God, what is in here?”—and marched you both toward the front of the queue.

“You two together?” she asked, as she gestured between the two of you.

“Oh, uh, no—just friends,” Spencer stammered, color rising in his cheeks.

She blinked at him. 

“Spence, she’s referring to our tickets.”

“Oh! Right, right.” He fumbled with his pocket as you handed yours over, suppressing a grin.

Flustered Spencer was your favorite Spencer. Of course, you’d never admit it out loud, but there was something endlessly endearing about seeing him off-balance, especially if you were the cause. Not the encyclopedia, not the profiler, just Spencer. It was a rare glimpse into the version of him you cherished most. The Spencer who remembered your coffee order, who stayed up with you in hotel lobbies when you’ve had one too many said cups of coffee, who once held your hand for 15 whole minutes after you found a kid’s drawing in a victim’s room and couldn’t keep it together.

It was also a little dangerous. Not in the same way your driving was dangerous (though Spencer might argue otherwise), but in the way where you sometimes wondered if you’d crossed some invisible line. If the lingering hugs and casual touches that weren’t exactly casual meant more than either of you were willing to say. But those were dangerous thoughts, ones best left in the quiet recesses of your mind. So you pushed them aside, as you always did, and focused on the here and now.

The here and now being Spencer, still blushing faintly as he grabbed your bag and adjusted it over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with some internal muttering about how much you packed. When the attendant waved you through with a tired smile and Spencer started making a beeline for your platform with your bag in tow, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Thanks, partner,” you teased, earning a glare that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Just get on the train,” he grumbled, turning away before you could see the corners of his lips twitch upward.

The two of you made your way through the carriages after a brief but spirited debate about whether to walk outside along the platform to reach your assigned car or board the train immediately and navigate through it. Predictably, Spencer had won, and now you were squeezing past narrow aisles and weaving through clusters of passengers with a litany of “Excuse me,” “I’m so sorry,” and even a “I didn’t mean to step on your foot sir,” from you.

By the time you finally reached your carriage, the train had already started moving. Spencer shot you a pointed “I told you so” look that made you roll your eyes as you flopped into your seat. Spencer wrinkled his nose as he lowered himself hesitantly into the seat beside yours, clearly doing his best not to make contact with any of the surfaces he deemed less than pristine. His discomfort was almost palpable, the slight twitch of his fingers betraying his thoughts. Public transport wasn’t exactly his favorite—as he’d once explained in great detail, something about microbial colonies on handrails and seats. You leaned back, watching as he tried to situate himself, his satchel perched protectively on his lap like it might shield him from the horrors of public commuting.

“So,” you said, hoping to distract him, “what joys of reading did you bring along for this glorious journey?”

Spencer glanced at you, then sighed, reaching into his bag. “The Sign of Four,” he said, taking out a well-loved copy of the Sherlock Holmes novel.

“Ooh, a classic,” you replied with an approving nod.

“And you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he settled into the question, visibly relaxing, if only a little. His fingers smoothed the corner of his book, but his eyes stayed on you, curious.

You grinned, the kind of grin that promised trouble—or at least something Spencer would find mildly exasperating. Reaching into your bag, you dug through the chaos of receipts, snacks, and whatever else you’d deemed necessary for a four-hour train ride.

“You’re not going to watch something on your phone again are you?” Spencer said, his tone laced with a mix of exasperation and earnest concern. “You do realize that watching something on a phone during a train ride is fundamentally different from doing so on a jet, right?"

“Hold your horses,” you said, your tone light and teasing. “It’s in here somewhere.”

Spencer continued, "The vibrations and lateral motion of the train create a parallax effect that forces your eyes to constantly refocus, which can lead to ocular fatigue and even mild vertigo in some cases—”

“Calm down,” you interrupted, cutting off his impromptu lecture as you pulled out a shiny new word search book. You held it up triumphantly. “Snagged it in the station lobby.”

“I thought you said you needed the restroom.”

“I did,” you said, smirking as you flipped through the book’s pages. “And then I saw this. Couldn’t resist.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes, glancing at the bright, cartoonish cover. “It says meant for ages 10 and up.”

“And last I checked, I am most definitely over the ripe old age of 10, Genius.”

Spencer shook his head, a small, begrudging smile finally breaking through his earlier apprehension. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a lightness in his voice now that made you grin even wider

“And yet,” you countered, “here you are, stuck with me for the next four hours. Lucky you.”

Spencer sighed dramatically, but you didn’t miss the warmth in his eyes.

The train rattled gently as it picked up speed, the two of you settling into your books. Spencer had opened his novel, but the words on the page blurred as his attention kept drifting. You weren’t exactly helping—constantly shifting in your seat, furrowing your brow in concentration as you hunched over your word search book. He tried to focus, he really did, but his gaze kept flicking away from the neat lines of his novel.

You were stuck on the word minimal when he finally caved.

“Top left, vertically,” he said without looking up.

Your brows furrowed for a moment before Spencer reached over and pointed it out for you. “Oh, thanks!” you replied cheerfully, circling the word with gusto.

At first, it had been helpful, funny even, maybe even a little cute. But by the third time he chimed in with a casual, “Parachute. Bottom right, backwards,” you were ready to stage a mutiny.

“You’re ruining word search!” you declared, tearing the book away from his gaze, clutching it dramatically to your chest.

Spencer laughed, an unrestrained, boyish sound that made your cheeks flush. “It’s not my fault you’re so bad at it!”

You gasped, leveling him with a mock glare. “Spencer Reid, you take that back right now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, still grinning, “but it’s like you have horse blinders on or something.”

“Oh, if you’re so good, why don’t you do it?”

It wasn’t a challenge so much as an invitation, but Spencer, being Spencer, took it as both. He snatched the book from your hands, scanned the grid, and completed the puzzle in a little under two minutes.

“Show-off,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help smiling as he handed it back launching into an explanation about linguistic patterns and visual recognition.

You both settled into a rhythm, solving the rest of the puzzles side by side. You held the pencil—because, as you put it, you deserved the pencil holding honor—though Spencer still pointed out words before you even had a chance to finish reading the list.

“Butterfly. Horizontal, top left,” he said without missing a beat.

“I saw that! I was getting to it!” you protested, circling the word with exaggerated flair.

Spencer smiled to himself as he watched you, his book long forgotten. Just as you had your favorite version of him, he had his own of you, one he’d never admit aloud. There was something about these little moments—when your carefully curated wit gave way to playful exasperation—that he absolutely adored. No clever retorts, no sharp-edged humor, just you. 

The two of you had been working on the word search together for a while now, the small book balanced precariously on the shared armrest between your seats. Naturally, you’d both leaned in closer without realizing it, the space between you narrowing as the train rattled along. But after a few jerks on the track Spencer notices you shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your expression tightening just slightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice gentle as he glanced at you.

“Armrest’s digging into my side,” you admitted, twisting a little as if to escape the offending object, the smile you tried to muster falling a little short. 

“Ah,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact, “Put it up, then.”

The version of you from an hour ago might have quipped something sarcastic, turning the moment into yet another teasing exchange. But travel fatigue had set in, and the closeness of Spencer—his voice, his warmth, the way he seemed to notice everything—had you more flustered than you cared to admit.

“Oh. Okay,” you murmured, your voice quieter than usual as you moved the armrest up and shifted in your seat. The tension in your posture eased as you repositioned, feeling the strain fade. 

“Better?” he asked, his head tilting slightly as he studied your face.

“Mm. Slightly.” you replied, though the truth was that it was a lot better. Without the armrest, you found yourself acutely aware of how close he was—his arm brushing against yours, the subtle scent of his cologne, the way his knee bumped against yours when the train swayed.

Spencer nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips. He shifted slightly too and returned his attention to the forgotten book in his lap. But his fingers drummed idly on the cover, and you could tell his focus was no longer on Sherlock Holmes.

“Let me guess,” you said after a moment, trying to ground yourself in the familiarity of banter. “You’re going to tell me the science behind why train seats are designed to be this uncomfortable?”

Spencer glanced at you, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Actually, I was going to say that the armrests are poorly engineered for optimal comfort. But now that you mention it—”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” you interrupted, groaning as you rolled your eyes, though your grin betrayed you. “Spare me the ergonomics lecture, Doctor Reid.”

Without the armrest dividing you, the space between your shoulders disappeared almost entirely, a quiet sort of intimacy neither of you acknowledged aloud. At first, it was just the puzzle again, you gently nudging the book towards him every now and then, his finger tracing a word before you could even spot it.

“Reindeer. Top right, diagonal,” he said for the third time, his tone just shy of smug.

You circled furiously with a huff. 

It didn’t take long for your enthusiasm to bubble over, the book tipping dangerously toward your face as you leaned forward in an effort to beat him to the next word. After the second near miss, Spencer plucked it from your grasp entirely, holding it at what he claimed was the optimal distance for focus while on a moving train—Though he still let you retain your pencil holding privileges. 

You leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, resting your chin in your hand as you scanned the page. Now, your shoulder didn’t just brush his in passing—it lingered, resting lightly against his as you stretched toward the book in his hands. The contact was unassuming, almost accidental, but you made no move to pull away, and neither did he. Spencer noticed—you were sure of it. How could he not? But if he minded, he didn’t say anything. You caught the faintest twitch of his lips, the smallest sign that he was aware. Maybe even liked it. 

You found yourself leaning more and more, your eyelids growing heavy as the minutes passed. Spencer’s presence was warm beside you, an unspoken comfort that made it easy to drift. It felt like the simplest, most natural thing to surrender to it. You’d handed Spencer the honor of holding the pencil 2 puzzles ago as your head slowly tilted, the weight of it pulling you so temptingly toward his shoulder. A soft sigh escaped you, and before you knew it, your eyes had fluttered shut. Spencer glanced down at you, the way your breathing softened, a perfect stillness that made his chest tighten. 

He didn’t know if he should move away. He knew he didn’t want to. So he stayed where he was, fingers curled loosely around the book, watching as the rhythmic back-and-forth of the train mirrored the gentle rise and fall of your chest. After another slight lurch, your head finally made contact with his shoulder. Spencer stilled, his breath catching in his throat. The way your hair brushed against his cheek while your knee pressed gently against his. How your hand lay across his on the book, a lingering trace of your last attempt to spot a word before he did.

It was all too much for Spencer—and yet, it was just right. 

He dared not move. He didn’t pull back, even though your hair tickled his face. His knee remained pressed against yours, despite the rhythmic sway of the train threatening to break the contact. His hand stayed where it was resting beneath yours on the book, his fingers loosely curled around the pencil, though the book was long forgotten. He stayed, in this unexpected, perfect stillness.

Before he could stop himself, his head had tilted and found its place upon yours. It was comforting, the contact grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. Spencer let his eyes close, the steady hum of the train and the warmth of your presence lulling him into a strange sense of calm.

When the train finally eased into the station, the gentle jolt stirred you awake. You felt your cheeks warm as the reality of the crowded station seeped back in, the intercom announcements and bustling crowds breaking the intimacy of the moment. Spencer’s eyes were still closed, his breathing even. With a small, almost reluctant sigh, you nudged him awake, the touch soft but insistent. He blinked, looking at you with a hint of confusion that melted into a small smile when he realized where he was.

“Hey,” you murmured, a touch of embarrassment in your voice.

“Hey,” he replied, a soft warmth in his expression. 

“You dropped my word search,” you mumbled, nodding toward the book now resting forgotten on the floor between your feet. 

 “Hm?” He sat up straighter, looking at you with a bit of sleep still clouding his gaze. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you shifted, a little embarrassed at the way you’d curled into him, “I’m sorry I slept on you.”

Spencer’s smile was soft and reassuring. “S’fine. I didn’t mind.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, spreading heat to your face. You quickly bent down to grab your bag, fingers fumbling with the strap, hoping the movement would distract you. But before you could lift it, Spencer’s hand closed over the strap. You feel your heart thump at the gesture, the simplicity of it making you pause for a moment longer than necessary. The sight of your bag in his hand was one you could get used to. It was a sight that made you think of Sunday mornings and shared coffee mugs. Dangerous thoughts. 

As you stepped off the train, you instinctively reached for your phone, its screen lighting up with an influx of notifications. Hotch’s name stood out among the messages.

“Hm. Hotch asks if we need a driver for the ride back,” you said, raising your phone to show him, “Says he’ll send a van if we want.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen, the thoughtful expression on his face almost too easy to read. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice casual but with a note of curiosity.

You shrugged, the practiced ease of your movements not quite matching the fluttering in your chest. “I think we’re fine,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light, “unless you want to?”

“Yeah,” he smiled then, the corner of his lips tilting up, “Think the train was just fine.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: north by clairo saw you in a dream by the japanese house

[comfort-questing]

crow's personal ranking of idioms about dead-ness, for whump purposes

"half dead." basic and classic, and can be used both actually and figuratively ("you look half dead" ie. we all know you didn't sleep last night). 6/10, not bad, points deducted for the frequency of figurative use where nothing actually happened to a character and they just need a nap

"more dead than alive." now we are committing to at least 51% dead, which is promising. I have never heard this used figuratively in a narrative so if someone says it about a character, they mean it. they looked, and dead was the predominant impression. good whump should be expected hereabouts. 8/10.

"dead on their feet." usually used for exhaustion, but honestly, a peak descriptor of exhaustion. 7/10 for that reason alone. we've all been there.

"all but dead." ...does anyone ever say this, or did I just come up with it? -/10 since I don't feel ethical rating it if I'm the only one who uses it

"threshold of death/on death's door/brink of death/verge of death" - dated but also, classic. a solid option overall, implying suspense, uncertainty of outcome. 5/10, nothing special but no complaints really

"looking like death" - equally appropriate for emotional or physical whump, but needs more detail to follow up so we know which one is meant. 4/10 in the abstract, due to ambiguity

"inches from death." have hated this one ever since I was a small crow, because it's usually used for narrow escapes - nearly stabbed, nearly crushed by a falling object, nearly bitten by the monster. emphasizes spatial arrangements to the detriment of actual effects. 2/10 since it can be used for whump, just rarely is

"dying" as an adjective describing a character. is it foreshadowing? is it a medical descriptor? it's probably foreshadowing, or else we're going to have a magical healing deus ex machina. either way, not a thing this crow is super into... 1/10, I'm sure it has potential though.

"left for dead" mmmmmmph... this one is underrated... implying either ruthless, targeted brutality, or perhaps callous abandonment by someone. either way, whump is inevitable to follow. 10/10. whumptober knew what they were doing picking that prompt, and every year I try to find a way to live up to its promise.

"deathly cold/deathly still" ... never out of place or out of style, a clear statement that something is very wrong, a sign of escalation of the situation. equally excellent for finding a teammate in a dungeon, or for checking in worriedly on a sick character in the middle of the night. next-level whump, and especially great for terrifying caretakers. 11/10.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Fake boyfriend - p5

Pairings - soft!rafe Cameron x virgin!reader

warnings - none

Part 4

You had walked past the mirror at least 6 times, checking your outfit with a strict eye each time. “Jesus y/n.. you look great!” Kelsie groans, grabbing you by the shoulders and steering you out of the bedroom. “Since when have you been so concerned off what you wore around a guy?” She questions, a smirk creeps its way to her lips and she gives you a friendly nudge.

“What will you do tonight? I feel bad leaving you, you leave tomorrow night”.

She gives you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, shrugging her shoulders to your question. “I could see if you could come?”

“No definitely not…honestly I’ll be fine! I’ll probably just stay in” you nod your head and reach for your bag, the rumble of Rafe’s truck cuts through the silence. Kelsie is quick to push you towards the door, overly excited to watch her best friend go out with her boyfriend. “Have the best time okay! I’ll see you tonight or you know maybe in the morning” she winks.

A soft rap on the door she pulls it open, Rafe stands dressed in dark gray chinos and a loose white shirt that is rolled up at the sleeves. You can see a slither of his chest and it just about sends you into cardiac arrest.

“Hey”

“Hey”

“All right love birds, off you go!”

Kelsie pushes you out of the door, your frame smacking his chest face on. His hands are quick to grip your bicep and steady you, you give him a soft smile and let him walk you down to his car. “You look beautiful”.

Your cheeks darken at his words, shying away from him. “Thanks” you manage to whisper, letting him help you up into the truck.

You wore a black dress, it had puffy sleeves and tightened at the waist. Sitting just above your knees, paired with a pair of red pumps.

“So this work event.. should I expect personal questions about us?”

The corner of his lips turn up and he glances over to you briefly, staring at his side profile in awe. His jaw was sculpted and you could see the muscles pop when he clenched his jaw. “Well about that… my dad owns the company”

“Oh”

Your heart begins to race at the idea of meeting his dad, this could either go really well or end really bad for the both of you. He could see behind the lies and ask you to leave.. worse, he could have security escort you out in front of everyone.

“Don’t be nervous”

“Easy for you to say”

He laughs loudly, the sound sends goosebumps down your arms. You pocketed that sound into a core memory, never wanting to forget the way he sounded.

“I have a confession”

“Mhm?”

“That story I told your friend about the elevator..”

“I was meant to ask you how you knew I was stuck in an elevator”

“Well… my dad owns that building. I was in the security room when they got notified of the lift getting stuck, we could see you in the camera.”

“Oh”

You remembered your brief panic attack, pressing the palms of your hands on the mirror to steady your breathing. Reminding yourself you were only one level away from ground, you wouldn’t fall to your death.

“That was the first time I really got a good look at you.. I wanted to be there when they opened the elevator but I was late to a meeting so I couldn’t be… I wanted to be the one to comfort you”

Your eyes glazed over at his confession, your hand reaching over to grip his that sat idly on his lap. “I thought you were beautiful the moment I set eyes on you, but our paths didn’t really cross and when they did it wasn’t the right time for me to introduce myself”

You find yourself nodding, waiting for him to keep speaking, your heart beating harshly against your chest. “So when I caught you walking my way at the party I was beside myself… especially when you said play along and kissed me… it was like I was dreaming.”

Your thumb brushes up and down his palm, his eyes straight ahead. He’s pulling in front of the building before you can say anything and turning to look at you.

His mouth opens to continue but the sound of knuckles on the tinted glass cut through the small bubble the two of you had created around you. Your eyes lingered on his for a moment before dropping to his chest, he let out an annoyed breath and opened his door. “Thanks mate”

He hands the keys to the valet and walks around the front of the car, your eyes never leave his and when he opens your door and helps you out, your eyes still stay on one another. “Don’t be nervous”

All you can do is nod, you didn’t want to go into the building now. Not when he hadn’t finished his conversation, what was he doing to say next? Was he going to say he actually liked you?

You're both swept into a sea of people instantly, everyone saying hi and giving Rafe a hug or handshake. Everyone’s quick to direct their attention to you, eyes surveying the outfit you wore. Your cheeks painted in embarrassment as you gave everyone your best confident smile.

Rafes hand never left your waist, giving you soft squeezes anytime he noticed you staring at your shoes. He gushed about you, introducing you as his girlfriend and light of his life. A twang of guilt bled through your veins when you stood in front of his dad, you didn’t know if lying was a good idea but you weren’t confident enough to put an end to it.

“Dad.. this is y/n, my girlfriend”

You had heard mixed reviews about Ward Cameron, the man who owned pretty much all of the outerbanks. The tough man who pushed his son hard and only wanted the best for his children, the man who didn’t take no for an answer.

“So lovely to meet you! I hope my son is treating you well”

“He is” you give him a soft smile and accept his brief hug. Rafe’s hand is quick to tug you back against him, this time your back pressed tightly to his front.

You don’t miss the way Ward’s eyes drop to his son’s arm around your body, a quick raise of the brow before his eyes were on yours again. You stand in silence, watching him take a sip of his whiskey before he places it on the table next to him.

“Well, I must go say hello to more people. Do join us for dinner sometime soon, yes y/n?”

“Yes sir”

He’s gone before he can hear your response, quickly understanding that is how he never takes no for an answer as he doesn’t stick around to hear anyone’s response.

“He’s scary”

“Mhm, let’s get a drink”

He whisks you away to the bar, ordering you a cocktail from the list. He moves you to stand in front of him, caging you against the bar. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, his eyes are watching the bartender closely so you take this moment to study his features, the way his jaw was sharp and hard but softened when he smiled. Ocean blue eyes that you had witnessed blown out and dark when he was aroused. “I can feel you staring at me”

“Oh, sorry”

“Don’t be sorry… I like it”

A soft wrinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiles down at you, your stomach clenched at the sight. His hand dropping to your waist once more to pull you closer to him, he dropped his head to look at you. “Rafe” you whispered, pressing your tiptoes into the ground and pushing up slightly. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” You question, you’d never asked a man before. You expected to feel embarrassment but the only feeling flooding your veins was arousal.

His lips are on yours immediately, his grip on your waist tight as though he thought you might vanish mid kiss. Your arms snake around his neck and pull him closer, mouth parting for his tongue.

A cough from behind is the only thing to bring you back to reality, pulling away in a huff. Turning your attention to the drinks placed on the bar. “Thanks” you both say at the same time.

“Let’s drink this and go” Rafe says, your head frantically nodding as you bring the straw to your mouth to drink the fruity liquid. The alcohol burns your throat slightly, you're not even half way when Rafe is placing his glass down and staring at you with hunger in his eyes.

“I’m done” your rushing, placing the half empty drink down and grabbing his hand. A cheeky grin creeps up his face and he’s rushing you out of the building without any goodbyes.

Tag list - @rafemotherfuckingcameron @rafegirly @prentissesredtanktop @maybankslover @vigilanteshitposting @drewstarkeyslut @emotionsmgcbabe @ijustwanttoreadlols @uraesthete @drewstarkeyswifehoe @aysha4life @yeosxxx @ailee-celeste @aaronhotchswife @watersquirtpewpewboomm @bbadiehoe @dream-pink @unbearableblog @blhemmings @20braced22 @xyzstar @bean-is-reading

[kindaasrikal]

The hate Misako receives is way to strong you guys need to relax with my girl 😭

Like whats with everyone hating Wu and Misako for making mistakes but then looking at Garmadon like ‘omg he’s the best parent! Best character! He didn’t mean to do it!’ Like please if you’re gonna hate the first two for their reasonable mistakes then you gotta hate Garmadon for his too.

Misako was just made into a single mum and had her family ripping to parts in a matter of seconds, we have no idea if Garmadon was banished before or after her pregnancy and personally i believe either way it would make sense why she would make such a mistake as leaving Lloyd.

‘But she could’ve left Lloyd with Wu!’ Thats a bad idea on its own because (and presuming that Morro left just a few years ago, so Misako and Garmadon know of him and what happened)

1) i doubt Wu would be prepared to look after a child after Morro having such a large effect on him (so Misako wouldn’t bring it up with him)

2) Misako AND Wu were grieving the loss of Garmadon, WU DID NOT MEAN TO SEND GARMADON-WHO WAS TRYING TO KILL HIM- TO THE UNDERWORLD.

3) Misako knows what effect the green ninja prophecy can have on a child after Morro, and whilst she definitely doesn’t blame Wu for what happened to Morro (its no ones and everyones fault), she can’t let the possibility of that happen to her baby.

and 4) she can’t have him hate Wu or Garmadon. Wu obviously visited Lloyd during his time in Darkleys cause both of them knew of each other and were familiar enough for Wu to casually scold him and Lloyd to insult Wu. Misako did not want her boy to hate either man and left him at a school that could guarantee that Garmadon is never hated either at such a young age.

Misako did leave and that was a bad choice on her part, but if the writers could manage it better you could have seen a great story based on a single mother in a difficult situation, and the mistakes she made throughout that. Like guys she spent ten years dedicating her LIFE to trying to find a solution to the final battle and the green ninja thing, she spent years thinking of Garmadon and LLOYD, SPECIFICALLY LLOYD, constantly. Misako is a mother who made a mistake, but is a mother who wholeheartedly loves Lloyd more than anything and anyone else.

She could’ve sent letters to Lloyd, but Garmadon could’ve visited Lloyd using the whole shadow powers thing. They both could’ve done so much more to be apart of Lloyd’s life but didn’t. Wu portrays a parent who was inexperienced with Morro, Misako and Garmadon portray parents who were inexperienced, unsure, in difficult positions, and could not handle the situation they were in appropriately. They all are people guys, adults are not all powerful and do not know what to do in the right moments, they are confused and they can be overwhelmed and they can make mistakes, and in this situation a lot of the mistakes had a negative affect on Lloyd, but even Lloyd understands that their situation was not a fair one.

I understand that they messed up big time, I’m not going to downplay that, but genuinely i think the reason everyone is STILL so mad at her specifically is because how poorly she was handled. They introduced her and then immediately victimised her despite the fact they could’ve pointed a view of a guilty mother who doesn’t know HOW to mother. They could’ve shown the actual closure Lloyd needed because I think we all need it too.

THEY DIDNT HANDLE MISAKO’S CHARACTER AND STORY RIGHT AND RUINED A CHARACTER THAT COULDVE BEEN SOOOOO GOOD BFFHDYDG

[batboyblog]

https://www.tumblr.com/batboyblog/763234650399424512/the-recent-chappell-roan-thing-is-why-i-absolutely

I frankly also get the impression that a lot of these people genuinely think another Trump term will just be “business as usual” or “it’ll only hurt the people who deserve to suffer” and that they’ll just be able to hide away from the consequences for four years before someone comes along and fixes the mess for them and they get to benefit.

I don’t think they have any realization of just how bad this is gonna get the second time around, because the first time Trump was metaphorically behind a chained fence and held back by strong rope. This time he’s being let loose alongside his fascist theocratic friends.

I've puzzled about this for some time, because like do people honestly not remember what it was like? what those 4 years were like? the fear, the chaos, the national embarrassment. Every day waking up and going "oh god! what did he DO! while I was asleep!" and how often you'd wake up to some story that he'd tweeted something scary and dangerous at 4am. I believe him threatening to nuke North Korea (the "Fire and Fury" tweet) was one of those very early AM specials that we all woke up to.

I mean for people like Chappell, its hard to remember, but Trump has been the more or less national main character for 9 years, since the fall of 2015. I mean an 18 year old first time voter could have been 8 years old when Trump came down the gold escalators told us all that Mexicans were rapists and he was running for President. So for anyone under 30, Trump is normal since every election they've been able to vote in, he's been the Republican nominee. I've spent 9 years of my life, across 5 elections fighting Trump directly or indirectly. Depressing thought that.

but past that there's been a national effort to gaslight us all into thinking "yeah no it was normal" I mean I remember the media coverage of 2017, the first year or so of Trump's Presidency, every few weeks or so there'd be some "is it time for the 25th amendment now?" story about if Trump's weird behavior this time for his cabinet to step it and remove him. (A quick google turned up CNN Oct 2017, New York Times May 2017, The Guardian July 2017, and Vox February 2017) compare that to coverage today? The term "Sane-washing" has been coined where when Trump says something bonkers it gets characterized as "sometimes meandering" rather than "incomprehensible" and "worrying"

figures in the media have gone so far as to claim there's just no point to covering new Trump scandals because "they won't move the needle" which really should not be a journalist standard. And we see that they do, take North Carolina's Mark Robinson. Caught in a massive scandal, involving sex, porn, and being a Nazi, he's now down massively in the polls after nation wide coverage. Trump just had new court documents opened that showed he wanted a riot on January 6th, that his reaction to a mob threatening the life of his Vice-President was "so what?" and they he knew full well that he had lost but was going to "fight like hell" any ways. And its not much of a story, indeed I'm seeing more news about a NY Republican Congress having worn black face (new story today) than Trump's effort to over throw the government and kill Mike Pence.

past the media's gaslighting of course there's been a major and on-going campaign to effect how we see reality. I know that sounds very woo-woo, but to step back for second, most of what we know about the world is stuff people tell us, so you know Joe Biden is the President because other people have said so, most likely you've never met him or even seen him in person. Well as more and more people turn away from traditional media, and traditional media turns more and more to making of money by confirming the bias of people, it becomes easier and easier to slip things that are not real into "facts we are told". So for example "Joe Biden is President, and also in decline" there's never been any real evidence of that, but if on social media you are bombarded with it 4,000 times a day... you start to take it as understood wisdom.

people are also getting worse and worse at not just taking what they're told if it confirms biases they already have. Former Vice-President Al Gore wrote a book nearly 20 years ago now, called "The Assault on Reason" which had a ton of very interest neuroscience about the ways that moving images, TV he was talking about, by-pass the logic centers of the mind, the way we relate and trust someone talking to us in a way the written word does not. I can't help but reflect on that with the rise of TikTok and short form video as a "source of information" (lol)

any ways this is a long winded way of saying bad faith players, Republicans, left wing grifters, and agents of chaos, have been very good at flooding the zone all through the Biden Presidency with stuff "student loan debt" remember when that was SO! important SO big and Biden "not doing anything" (untrue) was the biggest deal? well yesterday his newest plan got unlocked in court and 3 out of every 4 people with loan debt will get relief.... oh you're just now hearing about that from me? huh... funny... I thought it was the number one issue and reason we should never trust Biden and the Democrats... weird....

but there have been other issues pushed up as THE! issue, its all misdirection, its all meant to get natural Democratic voters to feel frustrated, upset, and hopeless, and not to vote their interest. The world is a big complex multi moving machine, and anyone telling you that one issue either fixes every other issue or totally totally outweighs everything else and should for everyone, is most likely BSing you and doesn't have your best interests at heart.

and lets be clear, Trump is a Rapist he's a lot of things, traitor, racist, scumbag, criminal, scab, tax cheat, fraud, etc but for me any ways, I'm not gonna vote for a rapist to be President and if other people aren't gonna do everything they can to stop a rapist from being the President I don't want to hear how much they care about progressive issues.

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 4

I finished it!! It will have 8 chapters. I'm excited for you guys to see where this goes! I'm still working on Sweet Home Indiana and will be focusing on that until ITS done. Then we'll be back our regularly schedule WIPs.

We have Eddie's big plan and Steve gets his flirt on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve slipped into the kitchen and there in his mother’s neat handwriting was a note telling him that there were leftovers in the fridge and that they would be home again next Friday.

He sighed and opened the fridge. He immediately closed it when he saw what the leftovers were.

Boiled cabbage with chopped bacon and carrots. It wasn’t bad if it was made correctly, but his mother boiled any flavor and nutrients out of the poor vegetables and then tossed in cooked bacon to hide its sins.

He opened the cupboard and pulled out a small can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and made that. He was craving the sodium. Eddie’s beef was good to get his body to stop shaking, but he had sweat so much he needed to replenish the salt he’d lost.

Once Steve had eaten and drank another glass of water he went to go get a shower and get ready for bed. It was no use trying to get back to his homework now. He had managed to blow up his whole evening by getting lost.

He had no idea how he got to Forest Hills or even why his feet carried him there in the first place. He could feel the weariness seeping into his bones from running for so long.

He undressed and got under the scorching water, letting the heat carry away his pains. His mind ran through all the things that Munson had done for him. The guy had no reason to be nice to him, but he had been more than gracious.

Then it hit him. Munson had called him Stevie, and without thinking Steve had called him Eds.

Eds.

Where the fuck did that come from? They weren’t friends, they could barely be considered acquaintances. Was his brain reaching out to the guy subconsciously? Is that why he ended up at the trailer park? Everyone knew that’s where Munson lived. Who knew how many times the guy had been called trailer trash, but the older teen seemed to rise above the insult.

Steve shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Just because Munson picked up lost sheep, didn’t mean he’d be willing to taken in an injured wolf. Because that’s what he was, reformed or not, Steve would never be a sheep. He would always be a wolf. A predator.

But at least as a wolf he could protect those kids with everything he had. And he would, even if it killed him.

The water had long since turned cold by the time Steve stepped out of the shower. He completed his after shower routine mostly on autopilot as he kept going over his interactions with both Munson men. He didn’t really have good interactions with dads or in this case uncles. But Munson’s uncle Wayne treated him with kindness and he could see where the older boy got it from.

He dressed into his pajamas and slid under the covers. He rolled over on his back and tucked one arm under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve thought back to the apology. One Munson really didn’t have to give but did anyway. He thought about the other jocks that bragged about hurting his hand. He held it up and looked at the fading bruise. It wasn’t as though he was even basketball anymore. Hurting his hand wouldn’t do anything but make it hard to do his homework and all he had to do is show his teachers his hurt hand and he’d get extensions for that. Like he had for his concussion last November.

But then again Tommy H. never had reasons for the people he hurt either. He just liked the power he got seeing the person helpless.

He placed his hand over his heart and let himself drift off the sleep, brown eyes and dark curls haunting his dreams.

****

Eddie had originally bought the red heart for himself like he had told the two juniors. But staring at it now, he had a better plan for it. Because that last wall, that last bastion of defense crumbled to ashes when he realized that despite the fancy car, the big house, and the expensive clothes, Steve Harrington was more like Eddie than he thought possible.

Wayne’s approval of the boy cemented that for him. Because if he could take one look at Steve and decide he was worth saving, then Eddie raring to go full steam ahead for a rescue mission.

Eddie could tell that the hearts were made from simple construction paper, like the kind found just about anywhere. He knew it would be technically cheating to just simply make more instead of buying them, but he had no intention of contributing to a dance he was never going to go to because one, it wasn’t his year; two, the whole gay thing; and three, the one person he would want to go with if the gay thing wouldn’t get him hate crimed, wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Well, all right, that might have changed with the whole rescuing him from wandering alone in the dark thing.

He forgave Eddie about being a dumbass, so maybe there was hope for, at the very least, a vast decrease in hostility. And he was willing to take what he could get.

He decided to wait until tomorrow after school to get the construction paper and hope that the high school hadn’t bought up the town’s supply.

On his way out the next morning, Wayne stopped him.

“You don’t have to tell me, son,” he said gently, “but you got feelings for that boy?”

Eddie froze and turned slowly to face his uncle. “What gave you that idea?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Boy, when you’d go on rants about the Harrington boy, you’d describe his floppy hair, his hazel eyes and how unfairly good looking the kid was. I didn’t say anything because it did sound like he’d been a bit of an ass. Only after last night I got to thinking and was wondering is all.”

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He let out a long shuddering breath, his bottom lip quivering.

“I–I don’t...” he closed his eyes again. This wasn’t Al. He wasn’t going to get beat for admitting it, but still it was so hard to say. So he just nodded.

Wayne came up and wrapped his arms around his nephew. “It’s a hell of a lot tougher batting for the other team, but I trust your judgment. Just promise me that if he shows signs of liking you back, you take the chance to tell him how you feel because...”

“You miss one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take,” they said together.

Eddie dropped his bag to the floor and hugged him back. “I know, old man. But I promise if there is a chance, I’ll be brave enough to take it.”

“Get going,” Wayne said, voicing cracking with emotion.

He pulled back and nodded. He reshouldered his backpack and got in his van.

He had a lot to think about and that really wasn’t conducive to paying attention in class or to his friends as they talked about their upcoming D&D session.

Gareth kicked his shin causing him to yelp.

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie hissed.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Gareth hissed back. “You’ve been going on and on about the mind flayer for weeks and now that it’s literally this weekend, and you’re off in some other realm.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his brain came back on. He shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, sorry, man,” he said around a pretzel. “Weird night last night.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to the side.

So Eddie told them. “He was like a ghost, guys. If Wayne hadn’t seen him too, I would have thought I was hitting Mary Jane a little too hard, you know?”

“I didn’t realize he was getting bullied,” Brian said, frowning. “I would have thought with Hargrove giving the dude a wide berth, that everyone else would have too.”

“Untouchable,” Jeff agreed. “The fact that jocks are now splintering into factions tells you what kind of control Steve actually had on them.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how true this is, but if Harrington wasn’t lying, he’s a real sweetheart, too.”

Then he leaned forward and explained about the pink heart scheme.

“So,” Gareth said, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them, “you’re telling us is that we have been seriously remiss in our duties in collecting lost sheep.”

The older teen sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to collect him, but I’m afraid the wolves might decide to rip him apart before we got him to safety if we tried.”

Jeff winced. He knew what Eddie was talking about. Steve Harrington wasn’t the usual lost sheep. He might be bullied now, but as King, Harrington had run far too long with the wolves to think that they could protect him one hundred percent of the time.

“So what are we going to do?” Brian asked. “Because if we let this slide, we’re throwing our lot in with the bullies and that’s something I refuse to do.”

A grin spread out over Eddie’s face, closed lips and dimples entrenched into his cheeks. “We’re going to make the school think that he’s just as popular as he ever was.”

The other three boys looked at each other in confusion.

“So what have you got?” Gareth asked, his own grin starting to take over his face.

****

Eddie made sure to get to class early so he could see where Steve was going to sit. He tried to tell himself it was about the dude’s hand, but it wasn’t working. He wanted to see if the former Hawkins royalty would chose to sit with his old friends or by him again.

He didn’t have long to wait. Steve walked in not long after he did, just as the bell rang. He didn’t even look at his old desk near the front and beelined it for the chair he had sat in on Friday.

The teacher picked up on the change immediately and wrinkled her nose. “I am to suppose that you are taking up permanent residence in the back with Mr. Munson, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve half shrugged as he began to pull out his things for class. “I got more work done, Mrs. Dixon and I really want to graduate on time.”

Mrs. Dixon nodded. “Agreed and as long as you continue the level of attention from last week, you are permitted to stay there.”

About half way through class while Mrs. Dixon was grading papers, Tommy H. turned around and kicked Steve’s chair. “Suck up,” he hissed.

Steve puckered his lips and wagged his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want to be next?”

Tommy turned back around, his face bright red.

Eddie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side as he considered everything about that interaction.

A little blossom of hope sprouted in his chest and he fought to keep it down. Steve had insinuated that other people were gay for years, but to Eddie’s highly trained gay ears, that sounded like Steve was offering to suck Tommy H.’s dick and that Tommy didn’t exactly turn him down.

Curiouser and curiouser, he thought tapping his lips thoughtfully. More research would have to be done.

He pulled out a different notebook, the one he used for campaign notes and song lyrics.

He wrote girls over one column and boys over the other and began tallying what he knew about the former King of Hawkins.

A shit ton went into the Steve liking girls column, but there was surprisingly more in the liking boys column then he would have thought possible. He looked up to catch Steve smirking at him.

Eddie quickly covered his notebook and stuck his tongue out at Steve.

The other boy shook his head and went back to doing the assignment. Eddie was more careful about what he left out in the open because he didn’t want Steve teased for it nor did he want him to see that Eddie was trying to figure him out.

The bell rang and the notebook was suddenly whisked off his desk.

“Hey!” Eddie cried, looking up to see Steve dancing away with the notebook teasingly. “Stevie!” He grabbed his bag and chased after the other boy. But the other boy was a jock and Eddie was wheezing for breath by the time he caught up with him at his locker.

“Give that back,” he huffed.

Steve gave him a bright smile and handed it back. “I just made a minor addition.”

Eddie frowned as he flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything. Steve took it back and turned to the correct page and leaned close so that only Eddie could hear.

“I trust you’ll keep my secret,” he whispered and then dropped to one knee to start getting into his locker.

Eddie gulped at the sight and turned to the paper to avoid saying something stupid. There in bold capital letters under his girls/guys columns was the word BOTH.

He looked up at Steve who had stood up. Steve winked at him and then walked away, leaving a shocked Eddie behind.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@fullpoetrybread @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife

@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh

[genericpuff]

Are there any things you like about LO? Or is it all shit to you. Personally, I think it could be a great storyline with the right execution, but a lot of the stuff and plot is unnecessary (I.e. Hades being thousands of years older than Kore and making characters fall in love with people they are racist/classist towards 😨😨)

Oh there are LOADS of things that I liked and still enjoy about LO despite all the shit I've thrown at it. I love love LOVE a lot of the older art-

Like, damn, that shit is so charming! I swear I had that Tower 4 panel as my phone background for like, 2 years LOL

Rachel had a really strong understanding of shape language, composition, color theory, and expressive linework in a way that was really appealing and unique at the time, but along the way it was just lost, undoubtedly due to her taking more of a backseat in the character art process and leaving it to her assistants.

That said, there's a lot of... not so charming, too.

I think, on the one hand, there's a lot to appreciate in the old art that shouldn't be rejected as we criticize this series. At the end of the day, as much as we riff on it, many of us did love this series at one point in time, so we shouldn't cringe at what it used to make us feel or pretend like we were ever above it when we were very much lost in it for ages before it went down the tubes.

But there is a lot to be said about the effects of rose-colored glasses, and how LO was never perfect. The reality is that much of Rachel's work is exemplified by the odd beautiful thing that sticks in our memories, but when we actually go back to relive those memories, we find they're all strung together by some not so beautiful stuff that makes us go 'wait what???'

Case in point, with LO we remember beautiful compositions like this:

But then within those same episodes we get:

And it's like oh. Yikes.

Aside from the art, there was also the SA plot as well as the Act of Wrath. The SA plot felt really special to me at the time because I was someone who was once in Persephone's shoes, being pressured into sex that I wasn't ready for but wasn't capable of saying no to. I can appreciate what Rachel was trying to do with that plot, but over time it became clear that she wasn't committed to seeing that plotline through and so I kind of just dropped my expectations for it entirely.

That said, it wasn't the SA plotline that set me off. I had good faith in that one still that it would be addressed eventually. It was the Act of Wrath plotline that did me in. The premise of it was totally my cup of tea in the way of "quirky character has a dark evil backstory!" which is shit that I absolutely LOVE, but then when the "twist" happened that Eris was the one to give her wrath, that was literally when I had my almost "canon event" moment of realizing "wait... I don't think Rachel knows what she's doing." And then it was just all downhill from there. The S2 finale sealed my fate LOL

All that said, as much as my brain is often defaulting to "ew! gross! bad!!!" in all honesty I do still appreciate what LO meant to be back when I still enjoyed it. It meant enough to me that I just couldn't let it the fuck go when it started to go downhill, so much so that I started making my own version of it! And that's something that sets it apart so much more from other comics I really don't like anymore (or comics I never liked to begin with) like Down to Earth, The Kiss Bet, Let's Play, etc. where I really can't even be bothered to think about them let alone talk about them to the extent I do about LO. I may be full of beans when it comes to LO, but I'd still rather be talking about it and all its failings and what it used to mean to me than about any of those other works. I loved it enough to still want it in my life and that's what Rekindled has accomplished for me.

[robbie-wallis]

I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can

Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.

I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.

If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.

But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.

Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.

Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.

WATCHER HISTORY

You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".

Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".

They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.

Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.

Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.

Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.

They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.

Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.

Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.

Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.

They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.

THE DEMISE

So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.

Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.

The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.

Comparable to Netflix.

And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.

Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.

From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.

They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.

Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.

Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.

Why did they do this?

Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.

A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.

The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.

In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.

WHY IT WILL NOT WORK

Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.

I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.

This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all

Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.

The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.

The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.

Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.

Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.

Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.

The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".

And... IN THIS ECONOMY?

Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.

This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.

If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.

Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.

This ain't Netflix, y'all

As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.

Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.

You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.

We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.

Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.

They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.

I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.

They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.

Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.

This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.

This ain't good marketing, y'all

They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.

Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.

Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.

If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.

Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.

A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?

The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.

This ain't good financial management, y'all

I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.

I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.

This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.

Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.

They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.

They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.

They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.

By leaving YouTube they've lost:

Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)

Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.

Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.

Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?

And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.

I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.

This ain't nice, y'all

Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.

Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.

I get it.

Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.

They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.

These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.

They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.

They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.

"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"

You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.

In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".

They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.

Can it get worse? Sure!

We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.

The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.

Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.

The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.

This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)

Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.

If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.

But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.

They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crème brûlée.

People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.

Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.

Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.

Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.

Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.

Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.

This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.

What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.

They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.

And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.

Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?

The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.

That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?

The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.

They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.

Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?

I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.

I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.

EDIT:

I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.

Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.

Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.

I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.

No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.

That's just not the reality.

Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ignoring my ex's threats of suicide?

this is a very old story, but it keeps eating at the back of my brain because i feel like the asshole in the situation, even though people close to me say im not.

i (19nb) broke up with my girlfriend (16f) and told her that we may get back together in the future. we broke up because she was incredibly emotionally draining, it was a long distance relationship, and also, i felt uncomfortable being nearly 20 dating someone in high school (i was also uncomfortable with our age difference for the year prior, but thats a whole other can of worms).

after breaking up, i stayed in contact, because she was my friend and i still liked her as a friend, just not a partner. she had some pretty severe home life issues, and had made extreme comments before ("nobody loves me, everyone hates me, no one would care if i disappeared" those sorts of things). now, i personally chalked it up to be a mix of teenage angst and homelife issues, but she had never made outright threats on her life before. it was always vague, or just an outright meltdown that i would care for her during.

i told her i was taking time for myself, and would probably not date anyone. a few months pass and i meet my then partner (now spouse). i know i fucked up in not telling her that i was seeing someone new, but i didnt really want the backlash of her screaming and yelling and crying over this, so i didnt tell her we were dating, just that i was spending a few months in his country (he had a place of his own, was older and more financially stable, it made sense at the time) and we had grown close.

it came out during a call, about 2 months into me dating and living with my partner, and probably about 5/6 months after i had broken up with them. she had asked if/when i was moving back home, and i told them i didnt know, because i was planning on living in his country. she asked if i was dating him, and i didnt want to lie, so i said we were. she got incredibly hostile, telling me that i shouldnt have lied to her and that i had said i wasnt going to date anyone. she completely melted down, getting incredibly angry to the point of tears, before telling me she was going to end it.

i panicked at that point and started trying to help her through tears, telling her i would do anything, before my partner took my phone from me and blocked her on that social media, calmly telling me to message her friends the situation, and that it wasnt my issue to deal with. i finished blocking her on our other socials (with her messaging me that she was so sorry), did what he said, and waited.

her friends confirmed she was okay later, but they were upset with me for not sticking around and helping her through her suicide attempt.

i still feel like an asshole, even though its been nearly 4 years since its happened. i feel like i should have done literally anything except what i did. ik my partner did the right thing, but also. i dunno. i feel bad i guess.

[viperzerofsx]

why both Evangelion endings are the same and the Psychology behind them

A common long standing sentiment is that the last two episodes of Neon Genesis Evangelion and the film End of Evangelion are at odds with one another. The idea goes that the ending of the TV show is an ending where Shinji accepts instrumentality and End of Evangelion he rejects it. By going over the psychological framework in the show I would like to show that Shinji definitely rejects instrumentality in both endings.

Though well know for its references to psychology, the first half of Evangelion mostly does not contain them save episode 4 Hedgehog's dilemma (which apparently was made out of production order). This part of the series builds characters and world building. The show has a fascinating ability to flesh itself out scene after scene without truly elaborating on anything. 

The first half of the show is quite compelling but it’s not exactly what the show would become. The November 1996 Newtype interview has lots of interesting insight. Namely director Anno claims he was not familiar with psychology before reading a book on a production break (interesting as a previous work of his GunBusters has a character named Freud Jung). 

“Ueno: "They say it's about psychoanalysis and personality seminars and stuff, but I've always had a strong interest in psychology in general, "

Anno: "Not at all."

Ueno: "Did you feel like you were heading in that direction while working on Eva?"

Anno: "Yes. It was natural.

I had never read any psychoanalysis books before. I only touched on it a little in my general education classes at university. It was the most interesting of them all."

Ueno: "So, somehow, a keyword or something like an interest stuck in my mind."

Anno: "Yes. I guess I wasn't that interested in humans. But when I started talking about myself, I wanted words to convey my story.

So, the words I thought were the easiest to use were psychological terms commonly used in society. And I started looking through books.

Until then, I never thought I'd be interested in psychology."” Newtype November 1996

He continues 

“Anno: "Episode 16 was the first time. I plunged directly into my own inner world. I'd tried expressing words through line drawings before.”

Episode 16 (apparently the first episode of the second half to enter production) is called Splitting of the Breast, this is a term from Psychoanalysis Melanie Klein’s theories. Klein founded a school called object relations theory, whereas classic Freudian theory is of biological drives, object relations is a theory where people develop via interactions with others and a drive for relation with others. Internal objects are our mental representations of others, parts of others, and sometimes things (and external object would be the actual thing). We form internal representations of others based on our repeated interactions with them. Further we develop a mental representation of ourselves in relation to these objects which influence our interpersonal relationships through our our lives.

These mental representations or internal objects are called UnconsciousPhantasy. The Ph to distinguish from fantasy, ordinary everyday daydreaming and imagination, fantasy is an consciousness process while phantasy is unconscious and underlies all mental activities. Our unconscious phantasy is our relationship with the objects formed by experience to develop the emotional and intellectual character of a person, their thoughts, dreams, and defense mechanisms.

For the most part mental representations take these forms

The object as perceived by the individual 

Self perception related to the object

Individuals relationship with the object

Or

Mom is a good object because she takes care of me

Because she takes care I must be good, have value

I love my mom

Alternatively 

Mom is a bad object she ignores me when I need her

Because she ignores me I must be bad and worthless 

I hate my mom

The infants mind however is limited due to the nature of infant cognition. When the child is born it is undifferentiated from the world around it. The first other person is the child’s mother. As the child is totally dependent on the mother for survival, the mothers breasts (or a bottle) provide life giving subsistence to the helpless child. The child internalizes the breast as a “good” internal object. However when the child’s needs are not met, when it’s hungry or scared and no one is around to feed or comfort or otherwise care for it, it internalizes a “bad” breast. Infants “split” objects because they are not yet able to understand ambiguity. The good aspects of an object and bad aspects of an object are seen as separate objects.

A good object is soothing and takes care of a child. In Psychoanalytic terms good objects are associated with the Life force, Libido, Eros the will to live. A child feels omnipotents with the good object (I cry the good object takes care of me).

A bad object is an anxiety producing object, an object that does not meet a vulnerable baby's needs. a child feels persecuted by the bad object it feels a loss of omnipotents by the object  not being around when needed making the child feel powerless. Bad objects are associated with Dustrudo, Thanatos, the Death drive, a desire to return to an inorganic state before the stresses of life. A child can’t handle these feelings and projects aggression at the bad object to reassert control.

This state of coping with the world is called the paranoid schizoid position, where good objects are “protected” by being split into bad objects. If a caregiver is adequate the child will move to what’s called the Depressive position. In that stage a child realizes the good and bad objects were the same the whole time. The child feels regret for its treatment of the bad object (which along with the good object is now a whole object) and fears losing its loved ones. 

Returning to Evangelion Episode 16 

Early in the episode during a routine test Shinji’s sync ratio surpasses Auska’s for the first time. Misato praises Shinji in an effort to improve his morale, angering Auska. Though never competitive Shinji has made it clear he pilots the Evangelion for his fathers praise and he takes the news well. During a train ride Shinji is a bit overly excited and some young children laugh at him causing distress.

Later the angel Leliel attacks, with his new found confidence Shinji charges in against orders and he and Eva unit 01 are absorbed by the Angel. Later Shinji awakes on what seems to be a train and senses a presence 

Shinji : Who? 

        Who?

Shinji ' : IKARI Shinji.

Shinji : It's me.

Shinji ' : I am you.

          One has another self inside within oneself.

          The Self is always consisted of two selves.

Shinji : Two ?

Shinji ' : The self who's actually watched by others and 

         the self who wathces itself.

         IKARI Shinji in your mind.

         IKARI Shinji in KATSURAGI Misato's mind.

         IKARI Shinji in Souryuu Asuka's mind.

         IKARI Shinji in AYANAMI Rei's mind.

         IKARI Shinji in IKARI Gendou's mind.

        Any IKARI Shinji is differnt from each other,

        but each of them is true IKARI Shinji.

        You're afraid of IKARI Shinji in other's mind.

Leliel takes the form of a young Shinji, from around the time he was abandoned by his father. He tells Shinji that he has an internal Object of himself and others have an Internal Object of him. Shinji is afraid of what the others think of him because he certainly doesn’t think highly of himself.

Shinji : I'm afraid of being hated.

Shinji : You hate to be hurt.

        Who's bad ?

        Father is bad.

        Father who deserted me.

Shinji : I am bad.

-

(flashback)

Asuka : This way you always think yourself bad!

        That is "self-punishing."

-

(flashback)

Shinji : Heck, it's me who can do nothin'.

Misato :It's you that think you can do nothing?

-

(flashback)

Rei : Don't you trust your father ?

-

(flashback)

Shinji : (thought) I think I hate father. But I'm not sure.

-

(flashback)

Gendou : Well done, Shinji.

-

Shinji : Father called me by my name.

        I was praised by that my father.

Leliel tries to tell Shinji that Gendo is no good but Shinji is reluctant and points the negativity at himself. Shinji originally disliked Gendo but since he praised him Gendo is a “Good Object” who brings Shinji validation and comfort.

Shinji ' : You'll live with chewing the cub of the pleasure.

Shinji : If I trust this word, heck, I can live on from now on.

Shinji ' : ... by deceiving yourself ?

Leliel points out this is no way for anyone other then an infant to live. Holding up with your “good objects” while ignoring the bad is immaturity.

live.

Shinji ' : Unless you continue to think you may not change yourself,

         you can't live on.

Shinji : There're too many pains in this world for me to live.

Shinji ' : For example, you cannot swim ? 

Shinji : Human aren’t made to float.

Shinji : It's self-decetion.

Shinji : I don't care whatever you refer to it.

Shinji : You have been closing your eyes and turning your ears deaf 

        against anything you did not want to know.

-

(flashback from the episode 3)

Kensuke : Sorry, but his younger sister was ...

-

(flashback from the episode 4)

Misato : This is not your business to care others!

-

(flashback from the episode 1 )

Gendou : Get Out!

-

Shinji : No, I don't want to hear that!

Shinji' : Hey, you run away again.

        No one  can live on with linking things one enjoys like 

        the rosary.

        Particularly, I cannot.

Shinji : I found one thing I enjoy.

        Am I wrong if I do the thing enjoyable?

--

To summarize, Shinji hates himself because of his neglectful upbringing. For the first time in his life he’s gotten some measure of praise and he’s determined to hold on to it even at the expense of ignoring the still harsh realities of his life. This however is not resolved in this episode. Evangelion 01 goes berserk at the last minute saving Shinji and killing Leliel.

The last two episodes take place during the human instrumentality project, the goal of Seele and Shinji’s father Gendo. Gendo describes instrumentality 

Gendou:         No,

                It's not that everything returns to nothingness.

                It's nothing but returning everything to the begining.

                Nothing but returning things to the mother which

                has long since been lost.

                All the minds become one mind, obtaining peace forever.

                Nothing but that.

If mother is the first other this is before that, before polarizing good and more importantly bad objects that cause pain. Frued called the pre object faze “The Oceanic Feeling” a feeling of oneness with everything, inspired by Hindu mystics of his time. 

Shinji:         What feeling is this?

                That is what I feel like I experienced before.

                My body seems like dispearing.

                Agreeable.

                I feel like spreading, and becoming large,

                to here, there and everywhere.

Evangelion references Kabbalah but any nonduelistic mysticism would give the same point. If our bad feelings about ourselves comes from our relationship with others who we need to feel good, instrumentality seeks to merge all souls into one to avoid those negative aspects.

Shinji lost his mother at a young age and his father was neglectful and abandoned him. He has feelings of worthlessness because of this. Piloting an Eva was the first time in his life he was needed and praised, the first time he had a sense of value. He doesn’t however like doing it and is aware one day he will not be needed as an Eva pilot. The Angels will be defeated and then what need will anyone have of him? He runs away from this.

-

                        You pilot Eva for the sake of others?

-

Shinji:         Yes!

                That is a good thing.

                That is a very good thing.

                Everyone prases me, then.

Asuka:          That's a lie.

Shinji:         What?

Asuka:          You idiot?

                After all, it's for the sake of oneself.

Shinji:         Eh?

Asuka:          And you excuse yourself as usual.

Shinji:         Do I?

Asuka:          To think that you are doing your best for the sake of others

                is itself an easy way to live.

Shinji:         Is that so?

-

Asuka:          In other words, you are lonely, Shinji.

-

Shinji:         Is that so?

Asuka:          That's nothing but a dependent or symbiotic relationship.

Shinji:         That might be.

Asuka:          All you wish is that people depend on you.

Shinji:         That might be.

Asuka:          All you do is to wait for someone's giving you a happiness.

                A false happiness.

Rei:            That's the very thing you do.

Asuka:          WOW.

—

Later

Shinji:         I was praised by people!

                But, not happy.

Rei:            Which is your true mind?

Shinji:         I don't know, or, both of them are my true minds.

Misato:         So piloting Eva.

Shinji:         I have nothing but Eva.

Rei:            Otherwise you cannot keep yourself?

Misato:         It's true that Eva Unit One is part of your mind.

Ritsuko:        If you depend on Eva too much,

                Eva itself will be yourself.

Ryouji:         Eva will be all of yourself.

Misato:         The true yourself will be nowhere.

Shinji:         It's OK. I've had nothing from the begining.

                I've been learning cello, but results nothing.

Asuka:          I did not try to do from your side.

Shinji:         But, now that I can pilot Eva.

Asuka:          And, when you lost Eva, you can do nothing, like me.

                        Why pilotting Eva?

Shinji:         Because it's all of me.

Auska’s mother killed herself when she was young. Similar to Shinji Auska pilots the Eva for others not to abandon her, while at the same time wanting to be completely independent and unhurtable. She tries to validate this adultness by making romantic moves toward an adult man Kaji and to an extent Shinji who is also a prodigy Eva pilot (a cornerstone of her identity) but also seemingly meek and passive, giving an extreme love hate relationship between them.

Rei is the soul of Lilith in a cloned body of Yui, she has no past or upbringing and has very little self concept, only kept going by pacing moments of kindness from Gendo and later Shinji. She seeks death, a return to a simpler state but waivers in the attachments she’s made with others. Rei has begun to understand she has developed a self image from her time with others

Rei:            I am I.

                I've become me in the instrumentality of the links

                between me and others.

Rei:            I've been formed by the intercouse with others.

Rei:            The intercouse with people and the flow of time change

                the shape of my mind.

-

                        Those are bonds?

-

Rei:            Yes. Those've formed me so far, the thing called Ayanami Rei.

                And, those will form me from now on.

-

                        Those are bonds?

-

She no longer just wants to die but wonders if her new humanity is compatible with her true nature.

Misato seemed to have a normal relationship with her mother but had a very strained one with her father who later died saving her. Misato as a result has a much more stable personality save her odd relationships with men. She falls in love with Kaji a man she notes is very similar to her father, she breaks up with him because of this but then years later they meet again and get back together in short time. Before he comes back and again after his death Misato is also flirty and inappropriate with Shinji who is only 14 while she is 29.

Misato:         You tried to find a peace on Kaji-kun's face.

Misato:         NO!

Misato:         You tried to find a peace in Kaji-kun's kindness.

Misato:         NO!

Misato:         You tried to find your father in Kaji-kun's arms.

Misato:         NO!

-

Misato:         YES.

                I found the father within Kaji-kun back then.

                So fleed from him.

                I feared.

                He was just like my father.

                But, it was because I was happy,

                It was a joy.

                It was truly a enjoyable joy!

                So did I hate.

                So did I separate.

Ryouji:         No reason to begin a love, but a reason to end the love.

Misato:         You are kind enough,

                You are kind enough to, I hope, make me dirty.

Ryouji:         Don't hurt yourself only because you hate yourself now.

                That's only to cheat yourself by momentally punishing yourself.

                Don't do that.

Misato:         And "you must take care of yourself" say you?

-

Misato:         Guys always do so.

                And Guys work, and Guys go into their world,

                leaving me behind.

Misato:         Just like my father.

Misato:         Always trying to escape from the hardships in the reality.

                Hardship in the reality?

                It's me?

                It's me.

                Yes. It's me.

                It's inevitable.

-

Shinji:         Stop, Misato-san.

-

Misato:         I'm desparate of myself.

                I hate myself!

-

Misato:         Impure.

                Dirty!

-

Ritsuko:        Badlooking.

-

Misato:         Mean! Dirty!

                Is that the adults' intercourse? I really hate that!

-

Makoto:         Congratulations for you promotion. Major Katsuragi.

-

Misato:         The me appreciated is the me who is trying

                to play to be appreciated.

                It's not the true me.

Misato:         The true me is always crying.

We see Kaji brought out the “Good object” of Misato’s father (the one that saved her in the second impact) and this is what attracted her to him. However, being aware of the similarities brought out the “bad object” the father that neglected her during her childhood and made her mother cry.

As instrumentality continues and the internal objects converse (this is the me in your mind and the you in my mind). Shinji is taken through the early parts of the object relations individualization process. He’s taken too a pre object world, before any others.

Shinji:         What? The world with nothing. The world with nobody.

Shinji:         The world of freedom.

Shinji:         Freedom?

Shinji:         The world of freedom that would never be restrained by anybody.

Shinji:         Is this Freedom?

Shinji:         Yes. The world of freedom.

Rei:            As the result, there's nothing.

Shinji:         unless I think.

Misato:         Yes, unless you think.

Shinji:         What's the hell! I don't know what I should do.

Rei:            You are uneasy.

Asuka:          You don't have your own image.

Shinji:         Too vague.

Misato:         Everything is vague.

                        That's freedom.

This is the world of an infant at birth, simple experience. Then they introduce an other

Gendou:         I give you an unfreedom.

Asuka:          Now that you have top and bottom.

Rei:            Now that you lost one degree of freedom.

Misato:         Now that you have to stand on the bottom.

Ryouji:         But you obtain a confort.

Makoto:         You get slightly easier in your mind.

Shigeru:        And you walk.

Maya:           That is your will.

Shinji:         Is this my will?

Ritsuko:        The world with the bottom is the world surrounding you.

Touji:          Yet, you can move freely.

Kensuke:        If you wish, you can change the position of the world.

Hikari:         The position of the world does not keep the same position.

Ryouji:         That changes through the time flow.

You can also change.

Gendou:         The things that forms you are your own mind and

                the world surrounding yourself.

Ritsuko:        Since this is your own world.

Misato:         The real figure that you conceive.

                        That is the reality.

The ground allows Shinji to see himself in relation to it. He also learns his perspective, his Phantasy can be changed. But Shinji realizes something is wrong.

This is the world with nothing, the space with nothing,

                the world with nothing.

                The world with nothing but me.

                I am getting  less understand myself.

                I feel as if I am going to disappear.

                My existence is fading away.

                        Why?

Misato:         Because there's nobody but you.

Shinji:         Nobody but me?

Misato:         Because you have no existence but of yourself,

                You can't figure out your own shape.

Shinji:         My shape?

                        My image.

Misato:         Yes. You are getting to know your own shape through

                seeing others' shape.

Asuka:          Seeing others' wall, you imagin yourself.

Rei:            You cannot see yourself unless there are others.

Shinji:         Because there are others, I can exist.

                If alone, I am always alone at anywhere.

                The world is entirely by my ..

Misato:         By cognizing the difference between you and others,

                you form the image of yourself.

Rei:            The very first other person is your mother.

Asuka:          Your mother is a different person from you.

Shinji realizes it’s the social relation with others, how they treat him forms his self image, his expectations for how he’ll be treated. Rei and Auska like Klein point out Mother is the first other person, the one who starts individualization.

Shinji then sees a world where he has a more well adjusted Phantasy and lives a normal life. He realizes his limited view of himself and others can be changed. 

——

Shinji:         The real world might not always be bad.

                Yet, I hate myself. 

Makoto:         It's your mind that conceives that the reality is bad

                and hateful.

—- 

He comes to realize it’s possible for him to love himself 

Shinji:         I hate myself.

                But, I might be able to love myself.

                I might be allowed to stay here.

                Yes. I am nothing but I.

                I am I. I wish to be I.

                I wish to stay here as do I.

                I can stay here as do I!

What is important though Shinji experience pure instrumentality where others did not exist and he had no existence. He found this unacceptable and decided a better course of action was to find a healthier view of him. Loving himself as an individual or others is an inherent rejection of instrumentality which the self image cannot exist.

——

Now End of Evangelion

The movie begins, Shinji has lost almost everyone and is alone. He goes to Auska in the hospital, he sees her not because he’s worried but because he has no one else. In a comma Auska can’t respond. Shinji lashes out and does something terrible.

Though the TV ending is quite upbeat, Klein's psychology is quite dark and violent. As mentioned above the death drive plays a major role in Klein, infants who don’t have their needs met by their environment and caretakers feel anxiety and project the death drive, lash out in aggression. In Evangelion when an Eva loses control or Ritsko destroys the dummy Rei, or during the third impact the computer monitors will often read high levels of destrudo. 

—

Psychograph signal down! 

Destrado has begun to manifest! 

The pilot's ego won't be able

to take much more of this. 

No more. 

I can't take it anymore.

—

Rei who speaks of wishing to return to nothing is the living personification of the death drive, while kaworu (music is the highest achievement of Lillian culture) is Libeto or the life force.

Third impact begins with Shinji at his absolute lowest point in the series, having done something horrible to Auska and then watch her get killed. The image of Kaworu however provides him some brief comfort and he enters his internal world. He sees himself as a child with two doll looking girls that look like Rei and Auska, they build a sand castle of Nerv HQ together. Their mother (who is Misato) collects them and Shinji is left alone with no one. Alone, neglected, and his needs not met, Shinji destroys the Castle, lashing out violently, a taste of what’s to come. Shinji then seems flashes and images of Misato, Auska, and Rei. Importantly he sees sides of them unfamiliar, and more importantly not pleasure granting to him

—-

Does Misato really

do things like that?

Yes, this is also me.

The me that exists

when two hearts are joined as one.

The me that

Shinji has never known.

Reality can be painful,

but it's something that

you must learn to accept.

His internal objects of the women reject and accuse him

If I can't have you all to myself,

then I don't want anything from you. 

Then, try being nice to me. 

We are nice to you. 

Liars! 

You're just hiding

behind those smiles, 

intentionally keeping

things ambiguous! 

Because the truth causes

everyone pain... 

because the truth is very,

very traumatic. 

But ambiguity only

causes me more pain. 

That's just an excuse. 

But it scares me, 

because I don't know if everyone

will stop wanting me again. 

I feel awkward and uneasy.

Let me hear your voice! 

Don't leave me! 

Please care about me!

—

 In this sequence Shinji basically admits everything. He wants them for comfort, but he can’t handle ambiguity. The world is only black and white, good pleasure granting objects or total abandonment, no room for real people and their nuance. Shinji goes to an image of Auska on the night they kissed. He tries to be their for her but she doesn’t buy it and calls him out as someone who only wishes to avoid pain. Shinji Chokes Auska and the third impact begins.

—

No one understands me.

You never understood anything.

I thought this was supposed

to be a world without pain,

and without uncertainty.

That's because you thought that

everyone else felt the same as you do.

You betrayed me!

You betrayed my feelings!

You misunderstood

from the very beginning.

You just believed

what you wanted to believe.

Nobody wants me,

so they can all just die.

Then what is your hand for?

Nobody cares whether or not I exist.

Nothing ever changes,

so they can all just die!

Then tell me,

what is your heart for?

It would be better

if I never existed.

I should just die, too.

Then why are you here?

Is it okay for me to be here?

(Silence)

—-

The ultimate Childish lashing out of the Death Drive, Shinji forces the human race to a Preobject state, where they are all indescribable from one another. Notably in the final moments of third impact Shinji can hear the voices of the girls rejecting him. Shinji immediately rejects the world he created for much the same reason as the show

—

Ayanami. 

Where are we? 

This place is a sea of LCL. 

The primordial soup of life. 

A place with no AT Fields,

where individual forms do not exist. 

An ambiguous world... 

where you cannot tell

where you end and others begin. 

A world where

you exist everywhere... 

and yet you're nowhere,

all at once. 

Is this death? 

Not quite. This is a world

where we are all one. 

This is the world you wished for. 

But this isn't right.

This feels wrong. 

If you wish for others to exist, 

the walls of their hearts

will separate them again. 

They will all feel fear once more. 

Okay then. 

Thank you. 

I only felt pain

when I existed in that reality. 

So I thought

it was alright to run away. 

But there was nothing good

in the place I escaped to either. 

Because I didn't exist there,

and so no one existed. 

Is it alright for the AT Field

to cause you and others pain again? 

I don't mind. 

—

Having a world without others is a world with no self concept, which isn’t what Shinji real wanted either.

Reality exists in a place unknown,

and dreams exist within reality.

And truth lies in your heart.

The contents of a person's heart

shapes their appearance.

And new images will change

their hearts and their forms.

 The power of imagination is

the ability to create your own future,

and the power to create

your own flow of time.

Shinji rejects instrumentality and decides even if he doesn’t know how to be happy it’s better than losing himself. He returns to earth, the violent destructiveness of the rest of the film is replaced by a sad melancholy as he says goodbye to Yui his mother and Eva unit one.

The final scene is a microcosm of the movie. Titled “I need you” the hidden tagline of the film (and likely Gendo’s secret line) Auska returns to the beach Shinji is on. He starts strangling her like before, she puts her hand on his face, Shinji stops and cries. As mentioned before the depressive position is the next state when the Child realizes the good and bad object were the same all along. They feel regret over their treatment of the object. Shinji can finally understand ambiguity about others and ultimately himself and can move on from Black and White thinking.

To summarize, Shinji had a black and white view of himself and other people because of his neglectful upbringing. He had no sense of value for himself and saw others as either sources of validation. In both endings Instrumentality offered an ultimate retreat but Shinji found his loss of self unexceptionable and chose to reject instrumentality and mature.

[callistocalavarni]

shifting to the 60s

hii I havent posted in a while, I've been trying re group from multiple shifts while getting my life back in order but I think I'm back.. Anyway I have a bunch of stories from so many places I'd like to share and im currently working on how I want to post them. But I don't see a lot of storytimes so I think it would be fun to share some. So i'm gonna rant about some shorter ones here.

shifting with sleep paralysis

I wanted to talk about this shift because it stuck out to me and I can't stop thinking about it.. I had shifted about 2 times in the span of 30 seconds. For a whole week back in October I was waking up at 3-5 am in the morning without being able to go back to sleep. So as you can guess I woke up at around 4 am and was restless. At around 6 am I got tired again so I started my method and I know people say that symptoms don't exist but in the time that I have shifted all I can say is that I disagree.. Anyway, one moment I was saying affimations and then the next I woke up all tingly and in a weird sleep state I've never been in before. I didn't even say to myself I wanted to shift I just did. It was like my mind was on autopilot. Didn't say affimations, didn't go through my script in my head, didn't even try to use the 5 senses. I just started seeing myself in 1st person and what I would be doing in my dr without any forethought and shifted. The first shift, I was on a track running with a couple of men and we all were wearing 60s running wear. I had an orange and red tank top with matching orange shorts. It had felt like there was an orange filter in this reality.. if that makes sense. I was on the track about to run and I just recall looking around laughing.

When I shifted to this moment its like I felt my consciousness leave my body; Which is the weird part because I've never really experinced this before. It felt like I was being pulled up by something and all I could hear was constant noise. I don't even know what noise I was hearing it was like someone was screaming right in my ear or veryyy loud ringing/static. The noise was SO loud. I was in the middle of sprinting when I shifted back because I thought I was the one making the noise, I thought I was screaming..Thankfully it was not me. But When I came back I was still In that state and I could look around me but my eyes were still closed. It's like I was seeing everything from a different perspective. There was a spider crawling on my wall right next to me when I shifted back so I freaked out and the noise got even louder ! The spider was leaving black spots all over my wall,, I could not figure out what was going on in the moment ( when I was writing this in my journal I figured out it was sleep paralysis ) It felt like I was tripping on a bunch of pain killers when I shifted back. I still couldn't move so I shifted again to the same reality but this time I was in the shower... the noise got even louder. The noise made it feel like a bad trip and I ended up shifting back here to try and stop it. It took my like an hour to get out of sleep paralysis. Unlike the method, this reality was very enyjoyable. It felt like a Nina Brodskyaya song, I lived alone and I was successful. I think I worked at a cigarette company, which is ironic because I hate smoking. But I don't know for sure as I didn't stay long enough to find out.

Lumari is a country I scripted, Forlina being one of its nations.

This reality was late 70's early 80's and one of my favorite drs. I stayed here for about a year. I was in Forlina living in an all girls home. Forlina gives free housing to students so I moved out of my parents house to start collage. About six girls are given a room to share together, don't worry they are pretty big. I loved our room. It had big sliding windows that gave a view of the tropical forest. We each had sunken in beds, some girls who were home sick shared beds for a couple of weeks. It took me a while to get use to the amount of noise in the morning. There was this one girl who would blast music on the radio while getting ready. I only had to worry about this sometimes because I woke up pretty early. Art was one of my classes and the professer would make the class times either 7 am or 9 pm which also took me some time to get use to. idk the guy was kind of weird. I rode my bike everywhere here. I miss being able to ride down a bike trail and see the ocean. I've been thinking about shifting back here for some time. I might post more about this reality in more detail later.

<3

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

(DATV thoughts with spoilers ahead; i think my tags will keep it filtered but just in case it doesn't since i dont want this in the actual game tags)

i just... man. i don't have a well formulated thought for this yet (and its my PERSONAL OPINION and other people can feel as different as they want, this is not an attack) but it keeps bouncing around my head, so. i know the popular thing right now is coming up with in-universe justifications for The Pantry Almost-Kiss Scene in ways that imply Lucanis didn't mean it/it doesn't represent him as a person/he was Faking It.

and i just don't like any of them. they make me sad!!!!!! i don't like the idea that one of the like 4 romance scenes we get in this game is him Pretending in some way, even if he does at that point like Rook back at least somewhat. None of the justifications i've seen make me feel Better about that being the point where we declare him as a romantic interest, which is what it is in the game, functionally. It doesn't lock you in yet but that point IS where the game says "they will take your flirting more seriously now". I did those same scenes for Davrin, Emmrich, and Taash and this is the formula the game uses (the "interrupted almost-kiss/confession" happens for almost all of the companions).

so if the answer for Lucanis' is "actually he stopped because he Didn't like what he was doing/feel that way yet" or that he felt he had to pretend for Rook's sake... it's kind of a letdown you know? esspecially when it comes right after what seems like an actually authentic moment (dispelling his "perfectly gathered clouds of doom"). Because, at that point in the game from my/Rook's perspective, it was like he finally was reciprocating. It made me hope that he'd acknowledge whatever was between him & Rook more in future scenes, especially because you get so little else from him at any other point, in terms of flirting back/showing you he IS interested. like up to that point I felt kind of bad for continuing to flirt at him, when he'd just change the subject right after! if someone did that in real life i would take it as a hint to stop. This is pixels and not real people so I didn't but they have done "reluctant/fearful interest" better in other characters if that's truly what they were going for in this one.

so after finishing the romance and getting the rest of content... idk. I don't like saying "one of the major chunks of characterization we get needs to be Thrown Out Actually because he was Pretending". because it's not like he or Rook ever actually address it in game--you just don't get to talk about feelings until some dialogue choices only in the act 3 romance scene, and then his speech at endgame (not even a full conversation, so much as his personal declaration). like it takes until the VERY end of the game for him to say the thing about "he was afraid to want you", but that comes after you've already hooked up, even.

I think truly what annoys me is that it's a story choice that can only make sense in HINDSIGHT not AS PLAYING. Only once you have all the scenes can you say "this one is out of character" and then you either have to accept it as bad writing, or come up with some in-universe justification to explain it... and so far none of the in universe ones feel good to me. i wish they did because maybe then I'd be less annoyed, rip. but at the end of the day i think even if there was some intent there, it was a poor choice for his story arc, because it doesn't effectively convey anything... and the reason why we can project a lot of different explanations onto it is simply because it is never addressed again (and again, Lucanis Dellamorte is NOT A PERSON he is a CHARACTER used to further a story for you the player, and so the reasons I don't like this choice are story-level and not a dig at how real life people feel or act).

So yeah at the end of the day. that is simply not a narrative device I would ever personally use in this way on a player/reader. certain kinds of hindsight revelations have their place (see: what the devs tried to do with Varric though I also think that falls apart on close inspection, but at least it has justification in-universe), but for a romance it just makes me embarrassed for Rook. In a game where you don't have nearly as many back-and-forth conversations with characters and have to resort to eavesdropping on them talking to each other, it's sad that one of the like 5 times you actually get to talk to Lucanis one on one we're maybe supposed to believe he wasn't being authentic, and also that Rook can't respond to this ever. It would be different if it had any kind of follow up, imo. or honestly as i've said before i would rather it have been swapped out with something entirely different or where we get to talk about their feelings instead, before i get labeled as one of the "people mad he's not Zevran 2.0/a sexy latin sterotype".

But having to step back to player-level analysis versus in-character analysis when looking at his whole romance arc just feels sloppy. but i'd much rather stick to "bad writing" than "intentional character choice" in terms of how to interpret the scene I guess, at this point, for poor Rook's sake. and i know people disagree with when I've said that before bc as much as I love Mary Kirby in other areas, she has said many times that she doesn't like writing romance, and I think it really does show here. As much as I love Lucanis and the scraps we got I wish I didn't have to do so much filling-in-the-blanks on our own.

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 1.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 4.6k

aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.

this is for my 100 followers poll. it was supposed to be a oneshot but will be a mini series in 3 or 4 parts. this is my first time writing aegon and it will also be somewhat of a character study.

thank you for 100 followers and everyone who participated in the poll. love &lt;3 thank you @randomdragonfires for beta reading, mwah mwah.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn

its been so long - the living tombstone • nobody - mitski

chapter specific warnings: awkward sex, p in v, virginity loss

Every day felt like a new restraint, a new button added to the collar choking around Aegon’s neck. He had done it– he had freed the realm of the false queen, his half-sister– and lost almost everything to do so. When did it end? When did he get to relax and run the realm as he saw fit, since they so intended to have them at the helm. He wore the conqueror’s crown, wielded his sword and bore his name and yet he couldn’t do as the conqueror actually did. Rule. He felt more like a dog than a dragon these days; but that was just a pattern in his life. They wanted him when they needed him and he was to shoulder their burdens as eldest son.

His grandsire kept breathing down his neck to secure another wife, another heir, another alliance brokered with another pompous house. 

“Listen to me, Aegon,” Otto began, his fingers laced together as he sat at his desk. He had summoned Aegon to the Tower of the Hand– he was summoning the King, rather than the King summoning him. Somehow, his council had let Otto weasel his way back into the position of Hand, Aegon’s mother in tears, pleading for it. There wasn’t anyone else fit for the job since Criston had died– and he was never really fit for it anyhow. “We must move quickly to provide you with a new wife. The realm won’t remain stable if we tarry in producing an heir for the throne.”

Aegon sat in the seat across from him, feeling more like a child than a King. He twisted the signet ring on his pinky finger. “It’s too soon. It would be an insult to Helaena.” he replied, not looking up at Otto. Helaena had only passed a few moons earlier and the wound was still fresh for all of them. Aegon never loved her like a wife– how could he, they were too different, too young– but he cared deeply for her as his sister and the mother of his children. Even thinking about taking another wife this soon felt like a betrayal. He would be like his father then.

A small huff and a rustling of papers was heard– Aegon was still too distracted by his signet ring, the thin light filtering through the half drawn blinds, causing a small glint off of the bronzed metal. He didn’t want to look up to see the expression on his grandsire’s face, he knew it was one of disappointment. Aegon couldn’t remember the last time that someone hadn’t looked at him with contempt, disappointment, melancholy. 

“You must understand. You have a duty to the realm–” 

“Fucking duty– don’t speak to me of it. I’ve done my duty for enough lifetimes. I let you put me on the throne and usurp my sister and look where that’s gotten us? Everyone is fucking dead, Otto. Jaehaerys, Maelor, Helaena, Aemond,” he paused for a moment, lifting his head up to meet the Hand’s gaze head on, “Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey– do I need to proceed? The majority of our bloodline is wiped out because of you and your ambition.”

Otto snorted, standing up from his desk slowly. He grabbed a decanter of wine, pouring them both a goblet. “You misunderstand. Everything I’ve done has been… for our family’s legacy– for the realm,” he placed the glass stopped back into the carafe, “Don’t you dare act as if I am not hurting for the loss of family– but war is war, boy. People die. It is unfortunate that… the ones close to us did. But we can’t live with our head in the clouds any longer, there is a realm to run and the crown comes with responsibilities. A wife and heir are one of those paramount responsibilities.”

“I have an heir. I still have one remaining child– Jaehaera is my heir. I deem it.” he spoke quickly, staring at the goblet of wine. He had reduced his intake of alcohol since the war ended– but the need for it was always there, always aching. He suddenly felt parched. Giving Otto a haughty stare, he took a sip from the glass, feeling his muscles instantly relax.

“Don’t be daft– have you so quickly forgotten what happened when the King last named a female heir?”

“It wasn’t that Rhaenyra was a woman, Otto. People would’ve learned to adjust if…” Aegon took another sip, clearing his throat, “If she hadn’t been infatuated with her freak of an uncle, you would’ve been able to control her easier, hm? It's always been you and mother behind the crown these past two decades– not me, nor my father.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Otto griped back, gripping his glass, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about. Rhaenyra–” he stopped, taking a breath, “Rhaenyra is dead. They’re all dead, you’re right. But there is still the whole of the Seven Kingdoms requiring a leader, especially now. A leader with a united front with a queen and babe. I won’t argue further on this matter.”

Aegon acquiesced. He would rather deal with Otto’s venomous viper tongue talking him into things he didn’t want to do now instead of his mother visiting him hours later in hysterics– he couldn’t bear it. Alicent was more of a mess now than ever. “Fine. I leave this in your very capable hands,” he stood up, swiping the whole jug of wine, “At least find me a pretty one.”

–

She was plain, unbelievably plain. Long, curled brown hair desperately in need of a trim, a poorly tailored dress that needed to be more fitted at the waist, stature too small and unremarkable to stand up to anyone of importance. Oh, and picked cuticles, the spots of red eking out from her nail beds. Mayhaps she and his mother would get along just jolly, then. She was to be his prospective wife and bear him more heirs. He wanted to shove it back in the council’s face and say he has an heir, his only living child, Jaehaera. Melancholy and withdrawn as she was, she was his heir.

The council disagreed, allowing Borros Baratheon to shove his last unwed daughter at him like a piece of meat that no one wanted.

Her eyes wafted up to glance at him, every move of hers uncertain, cautious. She was so deathly aware of each minute gesture, her posture having to be adjusted to straighten every few minutes. 

Lyanna Baratheon wasn’t of prominent knowledge and reputation like her sisters, aptly named ‘the Four Storms’ – she didn’t remind Aegon at all of a stag or a doe, but rather something more diminutive and easily killed, like a prey animal. Mayhaps a rabbit– it would be an apt description, as she had giant eyes, brown –almost black– in their hue, a shiny glaze over them as she stared at the ground. Every so often, their eyes would meet, brown to violet, and she would look apt as Aegon thought she was.

A rabbit begging for its life.

Borros Baratheon stood beside her, murmuring something into her ear. He was a boorish oaf of a man who couldn’t even read– Aegon wasn’t the brightest star in the sky when it came to matters of literature, that’d always been his brother’s realm, but atleast he could fucking read. He thought it quite hysterical that his house sigil was that of a Stag when Lord Borros reminded him more of a boar. Mayhaps he should change it. 

As he continued to whisper to his daughter, her expression went from sordid to panicked, then back to sordid. She wasn’t very good at masking her emotions– she would need to learn if she were to survive at the Keep. The tips of her fingers twitched slightly and she was obviously holding herself back from tearing into her nail beds. 

“Lord Borros,” Aegon broke the tension, “Perhaps I should show your daughter around the gardens while you speak with my grandsire. We have the most beautiful gardens here and I’d imagine that Storm’s End wouldn’t have something quite as grand,” he glazed over Borros’ blank stare, “due to the storms, of course.” 

Lord Baratheon adjusted his doublet, which was far too small for him— did the Stormlands not have a proper fucking tailor? — and nodded, “Yes, that would be amicable. It would do some good to familiarize yourself with one another before the wedding in a week’s time.” 

Aegon’s throat felt parched. He knew that they were speeding things along but he didn’t anticipate it to be this fast. Grabbing a bottle of wine from a nearby servant, he descended back to Lyanna, intent on whisking her away as quickly as possible. Not because he found her particularly interesting, rather the opposite, but he needed an excuse to get out of the room. The insistent thrum of his pulse in his neck was all too loud. His arm looped under Lyanna’s, “Come, my lady,” he hummed, trying to seem like he was somewhat collected and kingly and not on the edge of chugging the entire carafe of wine and smashing it over the next poor fucker’s head. “To the gardens.” 

He practically strung along the poor girl, who hurriedly agreed and tried her best to keep up. “Y-yes, your grace,” she mewled, her feet tapping on the ground at irregular rhythms as she hung onto Aegon’s arm, bouncing against the stone walkway toward the gardens, “King’s Landing is… very beautiful, my king– your subject must be very pleased.”

As they descended the cobbled steps down to the garden, Aegon eyed her warily, “Did your father tell you to say that?”

“N-no, not exactly–” 

“He did. Anyone with half of a brain and a working nose knows that this accursed city smells of shit. You shouldn’t lie, my lady. You’re quite bad at it,” he took a small breath as he looked at her expression– the poor thing was on the verge of tears. “You will get better in time,” he continued with a slightly softer tone, “This Keep is full of great liars and you don’t seem… too much like your father. I am sure you will pick up quickly. How old are you?”

“Nineteen, your grace.” 

Aegon resisted giving a derisive snort, instead uncorking the wine bottle and tossing the stopper into the grass, “You’re quite young, then,” he took a swig, feeling the bitter tasting liquid coat his mouth, “All the better for heirs. Or so I’m sure that we’ve both been told.” 

In truth, some would consider her a bit late in age to be married– but Aegon didn’t care as long as he wasn’t robbing the cradle like his father did to his mother, or Daemon to Rhaenyra. He was twenty-six himself and tried to remember what he was like when he was nineteen; he couldn’t exactly pinpoint an exact memory. It was mostly a blur.

“I am… hopeful to provide you with many healthy heirs, my king,” she replied, her words sounding rehearsed. She is as poor of an actress as she is a liar, then. She paused for a moment, looking at her hands, “I… do not wish to replace the late queen, her grace, Helaena– I merely wish to fulfill my duty to the realm and my family– I am terribly… sorry to hear about Helaena, my king. As well as your prince brothers. War is a terrible thing.”

Aegon blinked profusely a few times. Her words after her pause sounded genuine– mayhaps she is capable of thinking for herself. She seemed… softhearted, even if a bit naive. He regarded the bottle in his hand for a moment, swishing it around. No one had really apologized to him for his losses– the enumerable amount of them he’s gone through these past few years. They all bowed their heads and wouldn’t meet his gaze, as if their blood was all on his hands. Mayhaps it was. He swallowed, his mouth pursed in a thin line, “... War is indeed a terrible thing, my lady.”

They walked for a few hours around the garden, talking about various things. Aegon still found her quite boring and uninteresting to look at– she wasn’t ugly by any means, and could be considered pretty, but she was just so terribly plain that it bored him to tears. Her speech was all faux and he tried to eek out any genuineness to her words through different subjects– all to no avail. It seemed the sore subject of Aegon’s family was the only thing to break her from her carefully crafted script.

Eventually, they parted ways– for the better, he thought. She was a fine match, a fine age, a fine vessel for his seed to produce a royal heir and whatever other innocuous thing his grandsire needed from him. 

What a terribly dreadful life he’s let himself sink into.

That night, he drained two bottles of Dornish Red, falling much into the same state of mind he had when he was nineteen. Wandering to the Street of Silk, he whored and drank himself into a state of sloven mania.

In the midst of his drunken ramblings, he wondered if he could ever find someone who would truly love him or if his opportunity had already passed.

– 

The wedding followed in the timeline that Borros and Otto had set– as quickly as possible. The council dipped into the coffers to make it happen, it was to be an extravagant event, a new beginning for the realm. Artisans, fine bakers and cooks were all hired to make the wedding a facet, stringing up red, green, yellow and black banners, making dozens of delicate pastries and even cooking six turduckens to line the tables.

It was all lavish and opulent– and Lyanna could not feel more out of place. The past week at the Keep had been a whirlwind of planning, gown fittings, flower picking. Her sisters were there in attendance, speaking up more than she on what to pick. It was fine with her, as she couldn’t bring herself to care for it. The gaudiness of it all made her feel ill. 

She had only met with Aegon the one time, the first time. Lyanna felt she made a terrible impression— she was so nervous that day that she’d vomited twice that morning, all while her father screamed at her to get it right, to say exactly as he told her to. For the most part, she had done just that— played the perfect little puppet for him and said all those empty words that meant nothing. 

She was meant to see Aegon at least three more times before the wedding, as there were a few dinners arranged between their two families. He had been absent for all, his mother citing that he was unable to attend for various reasons but nothing overtly specific.

Alicent Hightower was a nice lady— she was warm to Lyanna, talking to her at the dinners when no one else had bothered. She was the person who Lyanna felt most comfortable with in the Keep and was grateful that she was to be her good-mother. Alicent was a bit frayed at the ends from the loss of her other children; she was haunted, her eyes constantly red-rimmed and murmuring prayers under her breath. 

The morning of the wedding, Lyanna was summoned to Alicent’s solar to get ready. 

She knocked on the door, “Your grace— it’s Lyanna.”

“Come in, my dear,” she called out, a maid opening the door to let her in. “How are you feeling this morn?” Alicent was perched on the settee when Lyanna came in, and immediately rushed over to her, taking the young girl’s hands in hers. 

“Quite nervous,” Lyanna responded, her hands quivering ever so slightly, even under the warm touch of Alicent. “May I speak plainly, your grace?” 

“Of course,” she ushered Lyanna to the loveseat and had the maid pour them both tea, then promptly shooed her out. “It’s just us now, speak your mind, sweetling.” 

“I-I am afraid that… Aegon will not like me. I fear I didn’t make a good first impression— he seemed quite bored of me.” 

Alicent took a sip of her tea, giving a small sigh. “I will do you the favor of not sugarcoating words and speak plainly like you have done with me. Aegon will not like you,” she pursed her lips into a thin line, twisting the signet ring on her finger, “Aegon is a creature of debauchery and sin— and you are a good, pious girl. You are like oil and water.” her brown eyes met Lyanna’s, her expression softening. The two women had a fast camaraderie, praying together each morning in the Sept. “You… may not love him, or even like him— but there is a duty upon you to fulfill. It is a burden we carry as women, my dear. We are always behest to the men in our lives,” she stopped, her eyes glazing over with a far-away look, “I don’t mean to be discouraging. You are a… good hearted young woman and I believe you can channel that into something positive as the Queen.” 

Lyanna felt her stomach quivering at Alicent’s words, her skin flushing. “I… appreciate your plain speech, your grace. I just… do not wish to displease him.”

Alicent’s mouth twitched at each end as if she were mulling something over. “It will be hard to please him, my dear. You are nothing like the women that usually please him,” she wiped a hand down her face, “You remind me so much of myself, Lyanna. Pushed into something you are… ill-suited for. You’re a sweet and kindhearted girl and I don’t wish for you to tear yourself apart on the inside and feel as if you’re not good enough for him– you are, you are too good for him, too pure, too-” Alicent took a measured breath, “You are not what he wants and you never will be, my dear. It will do you well to know that now rather than years later. There is always someone else in their eyes– women like you and I do what we can. I pray you will find things that keep you happy.”

Lyanna picked up her tea cup with trembling hands, taking a sip. There seemed to be more to Alicent’s words than them just being about Aegon– but she didn’t want to push it. Dipping her head, she thanked her good-mother-to-be once more.

– 

“Wake up, wake up!” a voice boomed, rousing Aegon from his haze as a carafe of cold water was poured on him. The girl latched to his cock like a leech let out a shrill scream and scrambled away.

“Fucking hell– who the fuck?” Aegon slurred, blinking profusely half a dozen times before his vision came into focus. It was one of the Kingsguard, one more behest to his grandsire than him– and his grandsire, Otto, who had the now empty container of water in hand.

“Wake up, you ingrate,” Otto growled, grabbing his grandson by his collar, hoisting him up onto his feet, smacking his cheek gently. “Your wedding is in two hours and you’re passed out in a whorehouse. You’re the king, for the Seven’s sake– I thought you left this debauchery behind, atleast have your whores at the keep instead of being in these pits of sin.” 

“You can put a number of different hats on a bear, you know,” Aegon slumped against the wall, “Many kinds of hats; a hood, a felted dante, a linen coif, a cowl, a straw hat, a jester’s garb– heh, that’d be quite funny–” 

“Is there a point to your drunken babbling, Aegon?”

“Yes, ah– you can put many types of hats on a bear and change its look but at the end of the day, its still just a fucking bear,” he straightened out his stained tunic, “Point being– you can stick a crown on my head, put a sword in my hand and put me through a war to keep me on that fucking throne but guess what, grandsire, I am still just a bear at the end of the day.”

Otto stared at him, brow furrowed. “You aren’t a bear, you’re a dragon and a king, so act like it. You are getting married in two hours and you look like a sloven mess. You’re lucky that Borros is as blind for power and recognition as he is or he would take his daughter back to Storm’s End and you’ll be stuck with the next best choice.” 

“That boring rube of a girl was my best choice? I must be fucked, then, either way.”

Otto and his Kingsguard dog dragged Aegon back to the keep, and observed while maids scrubbed him clean, red and raw. He was put in a nicely fit green suit, his House cloak strapped to his shoulders. It was a whirlwind of events that led up to the doors of the Sept being opened and Aegon ushered in.

His stomach churned and he felt sixteen again, forced to wed his sister. He remembered being hardly conscious throughout the ceremony, fumbling over his cloak and practically smothering Helaena in it.

He looked down the aisle at Lyanna, who was dressed in a pale yellow dress with long, flowing sleeves. She had a high collar with black lining and antler embroidery all over the garment. It was actually well fitted this time, likely thanks to his mother, and it turned out she actually had a figure, with plush hips and a well-endowed chest. Her brown hair was half up, half down with an assortment of intricate braids– it reminded him of how Rhaenyra used to wear her hair and he wondered who thought to style it like that, and he wondered if he was the only one who noticed.

As he walked down the aisle, he saw his mother in the front row– she was crying, thumbing a pendant in the shape of a Seven Pointed Star. 

The ceremony was a blur to him, as he put the cloak over her shoulders and sealed their union with a kiss– a chaste one. She tasted like lavender tea. As he pulled back, he noticed that her eyes were rimmed with tears, and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his own eyes.

The feast was much the same, as he drank himself into a numbing stupor. He only had one moment of clarity, as some of the rowdy guests began to poke and prod at Lyanna, talking about the bedding ceremony. She looked visibly uncomfortable, picking at her nail beds under the table. Something about the sight of her discomfort and pain stirred something in Aegon that he couldn’t name– maybe he was feeling sentimental from the alcohol, but a surge of possessiveness flowed through him. He wasn’t known to be possessive, much the opposite in fact. But the egregious actions of these men pawing at his wife– their fucking queen, mind them– making disgusting insinuations. If she were a whore, it’d be different– but she was so… innocent, so coerced in all of this just as he was, it felt wrong. 

Aegon snapped, slamming his cup down, “There won’t be any fucking bedding ceremony,” he growled, “My wife and I will be retiring to our chambers– alone. And if… any one of you lays another paw on her, you will lose it.”

Lyanna stared at Aegon, those huge brown eyes wide. Her lips were parted slightly as he once again strung her along the halls to his– no, their– chambers. She was shaking.

Once in their chambers, he let go of her, uncorking another bottle of wine and taking a swig. “I presume you think that this is where I will fuck you, hm? Stick my prick in you and make an heir and we will all live happily ever after like a child’s storybook.”

Lyanna stared down at her feet. “It… it would be… the duty of husband and wife to consummate–”

“Fuck duty! I’m not going to fuck some weepy eyed maiden because my old fuck grandsire said so. I don’t have need of you in that way.”

Her hands were trembling as she unlaced the back of her dress, her movements autonomous– she was doing what she thought she should be doing in this situation. She began to undress, slipping her gown off and leaving her in her silken shift, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The sight of her body, soft, stirred something within him for a moment, like a spark trying to ignite kindling.

“We don’t have to do this, Lyanna,” he murmured, using her name for the first time. He put down the wine bottle. “We can wait.”

“N-no! Please, I want to– please,” Lyanna whispered, practically pleading for it, as if she wanted to get it over with. “Please.”

Aegon rubbed a hand down his face. “Get on the bed then. Lie on your stomach.”

She did as she was told, laying flat on the bed on her stomach. She clutched some pillows as a lifeline.

He knew he should warm her up, he knew that they should want to touch one another, he should want to see her face– but he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, or touch her for longer than was necessary. He barely shimmied down his trousers before he began poking at her entrance with a half-hard cock, partially trying to give her a moment to get used to the sensations, and partially trying to find where he was supposed to stick it– he knew, of course, he’d fucked his way through King’s Landing and then some, but he hadn’t fucked many maidens, and especially not when he was blind drunk.

Eventually, he hit home and slid into her, his movements slow at first. He could hear her whimpers and knew they weren’t of pleasure. It reminded him of his wedding night with Helaena where they’d both cried– all the memories of that night came flooding back, causing him to falter.

Lyanna looked back at him, her eyes puffy and red, “I-Is it over?” 

Aegon swallowed sharply, cringing as he stared at her. The moment of arousal he had– purely from stimulation alone– was gone now, his half-hard erection deflating completely. “Fuck– yes, it’s over.” he didn’t have the heart to tell her that it in fact had hardly started before it was over– and not in the good way. He pulled out of her, taking in a deep breath as he walked to the water basin and soaked a cloth with warm water, offering it to her. “Wipe yourself– it will help with the… pain… and blood.” 

She took the cloth, wiping away the remnants of their half-fulfilled consummation. “I-I’m… sorry,” Lyanna whispered, sniffling, “I know I am not what you want.” 

His mouth was pulled into a thin line as he turned away. “You’re right. You aren’t.”

They fell into bed next to each other and Aegon’s mind was swimming as he tried to sleep. He didn’t know what he wanted. He never wanted any of this– he just wanted to be a kid again with no responsibilities, with all of his siblings, even Rhaenyra– he would’ve… he would’ve been nicer to all of them, he wouldn’t of picked on Aemond, he would’ve gotten to know Rhaenyra better, he would’ve played with Helaena’s bugs, he would’ve taught Daeron all of the secrets of the castle. He would’ve told his grandsire to fuck off when they were to crown him and had Sunfyre char him to a crisp and given the crown to Rhaenyra.

He would’ve been loved then.

He just wanted to be loved.