#like looking for patterns where they don't exist can be bad for your chances but CAN also be good!!

[batsplat]

you saying that casey stoner is neurotically anti-superstitious reminds me a bit of max verstappen. i’m thinking about when his fans were noticing that when he wore a flat brimmed hat he wasn’t winning so he refused to wear anything else to ‘beat’ the superstition

ahahaha yeah that sounds extremely casey, especially the stubbornness of it all. obviously it's kinda a control freak thing in and of itself, like casey's got to relentlessly ensure there's NOTHING outside of his own rational mind that's determining his own performance. literally the fourth-to-last sentence in his autobiography is "I know I said earlier I don't believe in luck and it's true, I have worked hard to get to this point but i can still say I am a very lucky man". he needs to feel like he can adapt to anything, like no external circumstances can prevent that adaptation process, like his brain isn't allowed to hinder him by finding patterns where they don't exist... and if anyone else attempts to impose those patterns on him then, well, he's going to be pissed off about it

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // Female Narrator

Part Five

After a blinding light eradicates mankind, you're left in a desolate and empty world. A year of solitude eliminates all belief that anyone else was left behind. Until a chance encounter on the side of the road. Jake is injured and fighting for his life, but his presence brings a renewed sense of hope. Touch starved and lonely, you need him. And undoubtedly, he needs you too.

"It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

Explicit sexual content Sex (penetrative & oral) /Foreplay /Blood / Injury / Hunting. / Intense emotions / Death.

Day 469 ~ Jake

The house sat at the top of a steep incline, up a winding driveway that had begun to be reclaimed by nature. Cracks in the cement where little shrubs had started to grow and leaves that were never blown away. Neglected and abandoned.

It reminded me a little of Josh's house. With pristine edges and white walls, coveted by obscure works of art. Book shelves that were gathering dust and kitchen utensils left out on the surfaces as if the owners had just stepped out of the room.

Amelia seemed to know where she was going. "I found this place a couple of months after I moved into Grandma's cabin."

She led me down a narrow corridor, flanked by a bank of full length windows overlooking a sweeping back yard that was shrouded by trees. Photo's of the family who once lived there sitting on the wall opposite, happy faces forever immortalised for no one else to ever see.

"I hit every house within a 10 mile radius. Looking for supplies, anything that I could use. Food, toiletries. And I was about to leave when I noticed this..."

She stopped at the end of the corridor, leaning against a nondescript door. Her face sincere as she ran hands up my arms, coming to rest around my shoulders.

"We have to take whatever joy we can find in this world." She said, "And if we're lucky, we'll take back some of the joys we had before."

I'd known nothing but joy since I'd almost died. There wasn't a single moment I'd had with her that hadn't made me question whether I would take any of it back to have the world filled with every other person I'd ever loved again.

It was something I'd wrestled with. The notion that I could happily exist in a world I'd come to hate simply because she was in it with me. I was thinking about Josh again when she opened the door, simply because I'd been reminded of him. And the certainty within which I knew I wouldn't take any of it back, even if it meant having him back, drew a conflict within the likes of which I'd never known before.

But it was all for nothing. As I stepped into the room she'd been eager to show me, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved her enough to never want the old world back.

"Amelia..." I gasped. "What in the...fuck."

Mounted on an oak panelled wall were an array of vintage guitars. A brazilian board 1959 Gibson Les Paul. Shining in the last rays of the afternoon sun. I reached out and touched it, trembling as my fingers remembered what it felt like to know strings. A custom Fender strat in dark red with a black mottled pattern that looked like spilled paint if you looked too closely. A plain red stratocaster and an acoustic Martin dreadnought with a mahogany neck.

"I know that you said you didn't play anymore. Not without your brothers. But I think you should play again. For them. To them. And maybe somehow, I don't know how insane it might be, but maybe they'll hear you. Wherever they are..."

She was nervous. Biting her lip and wringing her hands in the sleeves of her sweater. Anticipating that I'd reject the sweetness of her idea, of this perfect gift.

"You brought me here because you knew that I would love it, didn't you?" I asked, although it wasn't really a question.

"Is that so bad?" She replied, opening her arms as if I would somehow be mad at her.

The room was decked out with framed vinyls. Some were so old I'd never seen them before. There were a few more guitars leaned up against the opposite wall and a beaten up drum kit in the window. It looked as if it had been played to death, with the cymbals hanging off and the kick drum looked as if one more pound on it would tear it right in half.

"It's not bad at all, why would you think that?" I pulled her into me, her little body slotting into my embrace like it had always meant to be there. "Just because I said I didn't play anymore doesn't mean I wouldn't love this."

She rested her head against my shoulder. Let me sway her back and forth a little. Everything was so eerily quiet. Up here the wind howled a little more than it did around the cabin. It sounded like ghosts were singing to us, begging me to pick up one of those fine old ladies.

"Maybe I'm selfish. Maybe I just wanted to hear you for myself." She looked up at me, resting her lips on my jawline.

"Plenty have paid for the privilege." I replied, "What will you pay me for a private show?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I saved your life. This is you paying me, sweet thing."

She laughed and buried her face into my neck, kissing me there and holding me tight around my waist. Familiar and wholesome. Like she hadn't tried to push me away at all in the beginning.

She was the most incredible woman I had ever known. Her fears were like shadows now, she had this uncanny ability to turn them into her most beloved passions. Once she had been afraid to love me. And now, the ways in which she loved me were making me feel unworthy of it.

"Sometimes I don't think you realise how much you saved me." I told her, casting my eye on the acoustic. "Not just from that car wreck. But from a life of misery."

Of course I would play for her. If not her, then nobody. She made herself comfortable on a shaggy looking bean bag, folding herself into it and resting her head against her curled fist as she regarded me. I pulled the mahogany acoustic down from the wall, not wanting to tend to wires and amps just yet.

I considered coming up with something on the fly, but it had been so long since I had tinkered with strings that my mind began to wander so far away I couldn't make them work. I strummed a little, hearing the notes play out and something weird happened. I thought I'd never feel this ever again, this visceral wave that washed over me to the point of almost growing hard as I felt the back of the guitar against my groin.

Her eyes widened. She wasn't prepared.

"How does it make you feel, to have an audience again?" She asked softly, seductively.

The strings needed tuning a little. I turned the keys at the top of the neck, plucking out chords until they sounded pitch perfect.

"Sexy." I replied, "I always felt sexy whenever I went out on stage. They made me feel sexy. Kinda the same way you are now. Knowing they want to fuck you every time you play for them."

I didn't realise how much I missed the adrenaline. The feral cries of a crowd. Their voices rising in unison. Lights and screaming and the feeling that I might ascend with their love. I'd been someone in my life before. I'd known what it felt like to open my eyes and know I was doing something I loved completely. I hadn't felt like this in what felt like a life time.

"This is who you are, Jake." She uttered, sliding her hand down the curve of her hips. "You can't run from who you are forever."

I felt as if I didn't deserve her. For all she had done for me, for how incredible she was. There was no crowd that could ever compare to the way I felt in that moment playing for her.

"I can't sing our songs like Josh could." I confessed, "I'd be a poor imitation. But I'll try."

I couldn't hold the same power with my voice that my brother could. The part of me that had promised never to play again still sat in the shadows whispering to me that it would never be the same. But louder than that was Amelia's face watching me strum out the first chords of a song that meant everything to me.

"What's it called?" She asked.

Day 469 ~ Amelia

I knew he would love it. I'd all but forgotten about the little music room at the back of the big house on the corner of the road that led into Lafayette. It had meant nothing to me the first time I'd ventured in there. There was nothing in there that was of any use to me.

But today, it was like seeing the sun peek out from a grey cloud. I'd gone from doing everything in my power to ensure that he was never necessary to me, to doing everything in my power just to see him smile.

"It's called Broken Bells." He replied, "Josh used to say that it was about seeing that when things sometimes feel broken most of the time they're just lessons sent to help us see that everything will be alright in the end. I really wish he could be here to see that he was so fucking right."

What would I have done if he hadn't felt the same? I could feel myself dying a little inside at the melancholy way he played. His face expressing his grief. He played so hauntingly beautifully, in a way I hadn't really been prepared for. He closed his eyes and didn't even need to look at the way his fingers moved across the strings. He knew them, and they responded to him so lovingly. Almost as if they were an entity all of their own, able to come when he called.

If he hadn't have loved me in return I'd have been driven mad by it. Every rational bone in my body broken if I'd been forced to live beside him unrequited. I began to understand how lucky and fortunate I was as he began to sing. That he and I were somehow fated. And it wasn't just a coincidence that he was driving past me that day. He was creation and I was necessity. He'd made music for a world that needed to hear it and I'd treated them when they were sick. And for some unfathomable reason, we'd been left behind to exist together in this empty world.

But empty didn't have to mean broken. There was nothing but love in the world again. Nothing but this painful song that made tears spill from my eyes as I watched him and listened. What if this song was the only one being played? And the only one being listened to? I had hope that if anyone else had been left behind that they had somehow managed to find each other and find love within it.

"That was...beautiful." I sobbed, laughing at myself for crying at it.

He put down the guitar and came to me. Launching himself into the bean bag, the scrunchy sound of tiny styrofoam balls moving around as he wiggled into the space beside me.

"It always got an emotional reaction whenever we played it." He sighed, trailing soft palms down the side of my face. "It felt like people resonated with our songs for all different kinds of reasons. But with Broken Bells it always felt we were all on the same page. All of us feeling the same thing at the same time."

How could I have ever doubted him? This beautiful man with his beautiful music?

"I was just thinking, while you were playing it, that I hoped that somewhere out there that other people were listening to songs for the first time. That they'd found each other and found love, even in a world seemingly broken." I countered, feeling the heat of that familiar rush when I knew he was about to make love to me.

"If they aren't, then we have to love for all of those who can't." He said, trailing kisses down my jaw line.

Sometimes it felt silly. The things we said to each other. Things in the dead of night. In the cold light of day. In the middle of the afternoon when he was at his most sleepy, when he would linger in the kitchen looking to score a bowl of stew or soup before curling up on the couch with a book before he would fall asleep.

Even now, I could feel him nuzzle in. Our bodies entwined on the bean bag lazily tracing his thumb over my nipple as he sucked the flesh on my neck into perfect little shapes of his mouth.

"So, you really do like it?" I checked, just wanting to hear him say it one more time.

"Oh, yeah." He yawned, "That Les Paul is coming home with us for sure. And maybe I'll come back for the Strat, too."

I was wearing the black yoga pants I saved for hiking. The ones that I wore to collect fire wood. To muck out the horses and clear out the chicken coop. I never felt particularly sexy in them, or desirable. It felt almost like we'd become accustomed to seeing each other in our most desolate states.

But when he slipped them down around the curve of my ass and hitched me around so I was facing away from him, I was glad that I'd worn them. The way he pressed his hard on into my back and continued to roll my nipple around between his fingers as he breathed harder into my ear was the blessing I'd needed to know that I'd done the right thing.

We were both tired from the hike. Our bodies crying out for rest. The afternoon sun began to slip away, making room for cloud and darkness. I was acutely aware that there was no power in this house. No electricity. No running water. No heat. It was in my mind to interrupt his ministrations with these facts, but as his hand slipped below, coming up into my entrance from behind, I lost all manner of speech.

"You gonna let me thank you properly?" He asked, slaking two fingers inside me slowly. "Be my good girl and let me show you how much I love you?"

I was in no mood to protest. I watched the light outside fade as he ran stripes up my slit and into my clit. Whispering obscenities and freeing himself one handedly as he played with me. Letting his cock rest between his stomach and the curve of my ass, leaking a little against our flesh.

"Can you feel it?" He breathed, "How much I love you?"

It was all I could feel. There was no house. No darkness. No eerie silence as the wind rushed through the trees. Howling like there was someone out there to hear it. Only Jakes breath, the bean bag as it shuffled beneath us, and the sound of my untamed scream as he penetrated me.

He didn't try to quieten me. Buffeting my wild moans with deep thrusts that came like chasms to break me in half. Each time he bottomed out, he savoured it. Taking the briefest of moments to feel me clenched around him before pulling back slowly. The need to fuck and the need to sleep battling it out for supremacy.

"Pretty fucking grateful, aren't you?" I replied, leaning my head back into his waiting mouth.

When he was like this, all in need and eager to satisfy any way that he could, I often thought back to how it had been that first time. On the ground in the mud, knees caked in it and the earth beating in time with us. And how in the time since, we'd leisurely made love on the kitchen floor some mornings. In the shower, just stroking each other to pass the time. Him, on top of me, in the bed we now shared. And me, arms around the trunk of a tree whilst he fucked me from behind out in the woods even though it was still a little cold out there.

"For this pussy? Always." He purred into my ear, like he was serenading me.

I knew that I'd never tire of it. The way he felt inside me. The way he fit so perfectly. I never felt so full, like something had been made just for me. He wasn't just rhythm and blues, he was equipped to make me quiver with the mere mention that he might take me right there and then.

I'd lament it later on. How all my lovers before him had been lacking. How I'd swiped left and right, attended blind dates and settled when I shouldn't have. For men that couldn't make me cum or men who couldn't text me back.

"Mmmmm..." I murmured softly, arching against his quickening pace. "It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

The gentle laughter that expelled from his mouth against the shell of my ear was like summer rain. Teasing my senses, touch taste and scent. His hair was sweat drenched at his temples, as it often was when he fucked me, and I could taste the salt of it in his kiss.

"She speaks so highly of me." He breathed, "Now let her know no other man will ever have her..."

He would claim me. Over and over again. Even when there was no other to counter his claim. I let his hand wrap around my throat, edging me to the distance it would take to push me over the edge of the world. Thrusting into me so hard my entire body shook. I knew the bean bag had ripped at some point, sending the tiny little white foam balls scattered across the room. But I didn't care.

I'd keep finding them in strange places for weeks afterwards. As he rolled me onto the floor and continued to pound me, vicious and unrelenting. He'd never silenced my mewling cries before, content to let them ring out into the ether.

But not this time. It was like his gratitude couldn't be satisfied until he could hear the one sound he desired. His body raged on top of mine, our clothes half on and half off. His sweaty palm came to rest over my open mouth. Muffling my cries to a dull humm. His eyes silently pleading with me to let them die. And to just listen...

"Hush." He encouraged, resting his mouth against the back of his hand as he continued.

There it was. Against the backdrop of the breeze outside. The sound of how wet I was. His cock hitting my satiated pussy. Moist flesh against moist flesh. The most inconceivable feeling washed over me. This man, the only man that ever was, wanted to silence my mouth only to better hear the sound of my pussy being fucked.

And the drop of his eyelids as he listened had me in another state of being. Half closed and fucked with desire for the way it slipped in and out, wet and completely his.

"Thankyou, my love." He whispered, before he allowed himself to cum.

I was never certain if it was for the music, or the way I let him fuck me. I didn't really care. I let my own orgasm rise moments later, the two of us breathless and spent on the gutted belly of that old bean bag.

Day 470 ~ Amelia

We hunkered down for the night. Choosing to make our way back at first light, gathering all the blankets we could find and sleeping on the couches that were, quite simply, more luxurious than any couch we could have gotten in the cabin.

Jake took the one opposite me, falling asleep first. His gentle snores lulling me into my own dreams. It felt like no time had passed at all before my eyes sprang open, the red of morning creeping in.

I rubbed my eyes and stretched. Taking a moment to recall where I was. This place was eerie, even in daylight. And I wished that there were something, anything...that would remind me that people had once lived here. The ticking of a clock, perhaps. Or the grass being cut outside. I could have laid there a little longer, still tired and drowsy, but I was eager to be gone.

I kicked off the blankets and expected Jake to be laying there, ever the one to wake up last, but my heart fell into my stomach at the sight of the empty couch. Blankets still left precisely where he had kicked them off.

"Jake?!" I called, expecting his voice to filter down the hall from the music room.

Silence.

"Jake?!" I called again, pulling on my pants and shoes as I made my way through the house.

I expected to find him gathering up all the instruments he wanted to take. Agonising over which ones to take now and which ones to come back for. But there was nothing but the aftermath of what we'd done. And all the guitars were accounted for.

"Jake, this isn't funny." I cried, checking behind the curtains like a child playing hide and seek. "Jake, I'm being serious now!!!"

Panic began to rise in my chest. My heart soaring, making me dizzy as I flew through the house. Room after room coming up empty.

"Jake!!!" I screamed, running now. "Jake please!!!"

Had I ever given myself permission to imagine this, I would have driven myself mad. That one day he would simply vanish, like everyone else had, and truly I would have walked to my death in that moment. I had no desire to live in a world void of the man I loved.

"JACOB!!!" My voice broke on his name as I fell out of the door and into the back yard. "PLEASE!!!!"

I fell to my knees on gravel. Crying. Racking sobs expelled from me as I took fists full of tiny pebbles that cut into my flesh as I squeezed. I felt as if I couldn't breathe. My chest was tight, all the horror of him disappearing coursing through my veins as tears spilled down my flushed cheeks.

"Jake, I can't do this...you have to come back..." I begged, broken and beyond redemption.

In a matter of moments I'd gone from waking up, to screaming on my knees. I'd have thought it a nightmare had I not already endured one. The reality of this feeling was one I knew. Only this time, intensified by a love that had known no bounds. I could live in an empty world before I'd ever known him.

Not anymore.

To be Continued...

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@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy @char289

[antianakin]

Lol bringing Anakin Skywalker onto your show where your own fucking characters are so flat and disconnected from the wider storyline that they routinely have to be SIDELINED whenever they try to touch on it is such a transparently desperate move to try to make this show seem bigger and more important than it is.

Much like with The Mandalorian and the Ahsoka show, TBB is making the PROFOUND mistake of thinking that being disconnected from the greater Skywalker Saga is a failure and not an opportunity. This is also why the main ensemble NEVER SHOULD'VE BEEN CLONES IN THE FIRST PLACE because the story that was written for them was so clearly and obviously not made with clones in mind. The characters DO NOT CARE about clone issues, they DO NOT CARE about the rebellion, they DO NOT CARE about the Republic or what happened to it. ALL they care about is themselves and like... Omega.

And this doesn't have to be a BAD thing, they can just live in their own little bubble and have their own adventures in the Star Wars universe without being really impacted at all by the narrative happening around them. This was something people loved about Din and The Mandalorian in its early years, something it started to lose in season 2 with the introduction of Ahsoka and Bo-Katan and then completely gave up on in season 3. Having your main character(s) be completely removed from the more well-known story and its characters can really open up a LOT of chances to tell some unique and interesting stories. We see the proof of that in pretty much every episode of Visions that exists.

But by making the main ensemble of TBB clones, people are going into this expecting it to be a story ABOUT THE FUCKING CLONES, exploring how the clones are actually impacted by Order 66 in its immediate aftermath, what does this look like for them, what happened to them, how did Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe end up entirely alone on Seelos and are they truly the only three survivors out of that population of MILLIONS. And instead, because the main characters are clones-but-not-really, we have a story that tries to pretend to be about clones but is in actuality could not care less about the clone issues and any time they try to ADDRESS clone issues, their entire ensemble has to be literally sidelined to do it because it wouldn't make any sense for them to care.

And they keep tossing in all these random cameos by other characters who ARE more involved in the bigger story, like Rex and Hera and Saw and Riyo and Bail and Cody and Ventress. So not only are we expecting this to be a show about clones, we're expecting it to touch on a lot of the characters whose stories are more interesting. Except it can't do that and these characters just flit in and out without having any real impact on TBB at all because they CAN'T. This show and its characters literally won't allow for it. It relies on these cameos to keep people invested in it because they so clearly don't trust their own main characters enough to hold anybody's attention on their own, but they can't do anything interesting with those cameos because they AREN'T the main characters and their main characters WON'T GET INVOLVED IN THOSE STORIES. So we're locked in this really annoying pattern of getting glimpses into these better, more interesting stories and then getting abruptly wrenched away without getting any kind of follow-up or conclusion.

So including Anakin? Yeah, that's gonna be a massive mistake. People are going to LOVE having Anakin in there because hey, it's Anakin, the main character of the REAL story everyone ACTUALLY cares about, it's Darth Vader, that villain everybody loved, we're all invested in THAT DUDE already. But it's going to pull focus from TBB immensely and add exactly nothing to them because TBB have zero real connection to Anakin and all of the themes surrounding his character don't mean shit to this particular ensemble. At best, he's a monster for them to flee from because they can't defeat him in any meaningful way, and anybody could've been that monster. But they made it Anakin because people already like him and they're DESPERATE for some positive attention on the finale season of this show. It won't work, this show is already fucking awful and tossing in yet another cameo isn't going to change that. It's just desperate and it's lazy, two things this show has been from day one.

[krikeymate]

Top 5 moments of your life thus far.

These can be good, bad, or any variation thereof.

Please feel free to disregard if it's too personal of an ask.

Honestly, I... am so boring. Not a lot has happened in my life to be honest, for better or worse.

Top has definitely been deciding to make those Scream posts back in March, I've got to talk to and befriend so many incredible people because of that, and I've never been in a better place mentally. Even in my low moments, I've bounced back faster than ever before. It's really made a significant impact on me as a person and helped continue my growth, and I don't have the words to describe how thankful I am. This fandom experience has been my favourite so far from the past... god, 20 years. I want to give a special shoutout to Bailey and Dreamer, who have inspired me so much and I am so incredibly lucky to call them my friends, I don't remember what it's like before they started talking to me and gave me a chance. One that people really haven't before. Friends, real friends, aren't something I have much experience with.

I guess another formative experience has to be my first foray into fanfiction, I was like 9, maybe younger, it was Pokemon, it was an independent little website as was the norm back in the day, AAML 4 lyfe. God I feel old. Anyway those fics were NOT APPROPRIATE and I still think of them to this day. Would love to reread them, but doubt they're still around, and even if they are it would be impossible to find I think.

Over a decade ago now, when I was much younger, I made a couple of fandom friends, that ended badly, but I don't regret making them. They were important and formative for me too, and more importantly, one of them was the first person to ever call me Kai, instead of my full username Kaishei, although now I tend to go by Kailyr, and that... it changed my life. It felt right.

Uhm. I can drive? I passed my driving test in 2021... on like the fifth attempt or something in two years - and barely at that. The instructor literally said I was a borderline fail, but he decided to pass me because he can see that I know how to drive. And also because I said I was probably going to give up if I failed. I hate driving, it's very stressful, but necessary where I live now.

Oh, when I was like five - yes, literally 5 - I played my first real video game, back in 1999. I'd played some, some educational ones. But this was a real video game, and it was - there's a pattern you see - not age-appropriate. The game was Dungeon Keeper (Gold), and it is to this day my very favourite game of all time, the game that nothing since has matched for me.

As a bonus, here's some things I'm really looking forward to: Top Surgery, eventually (the UK trans medical system is a joke); Dreamer coming to visit me next year; when I eventually get to go visit Dreamer on their turf too; and getting to decorate my new bedroom in the house my parents have just bought, and having some real space to make it my own and exist.

[will80sbyers]

In fiction there can be one dimension but in the real world there are no good people there are only people that are actively trying to be good and people that aren't trying, don't want to try and don't care about what their actions do to others.

You can shift from one position to another at any point in your life and mental health and circumstances around you makes it more difficult to change position but not impossible.

That said, this doesn't justify you hurting others and if you do you deserve to live with the consequences of your actions, you are not owed forgiveness from anybody, even less from the people you did hurt.

People have the right to defend themselves from you if they know you actively do or did something to hurt others and don't want to associate with you that's a valid choice they are making for their life, they are safeguarding their own mental health and well-being and every human being has that right.

Maybe this doesn't help your "healing journey" in your opinion and it makes you mad that you aren't immediately accepted into the group, but that's also how society survives- other people are not inherently responsible for your healing unless they are being paid to be, only your parents were responsible and they failed.

You will always find people that are kind and have that much heart to forgive you if you are actively trying to do better. They exist and many times they have done some shit themselves in the past so they are more prone to give opportunities to others, there are also people that give opportunities by looking at how you act day by day without completely trusting you, keeping up healthy boundaries for themselves.

There are also people that have trauma themselves that makes them too accepting and too trusting and see things too positively because they are not educated in mental health and believe that humans are fundamentally good and "even if they hurt me I can take it because who am I if I don't help them when they have suffered in the past this much, I have not so I should give all that I can give to help them or it means I'm bad"

( I was one of these people lost in that narcissistic and delusional "good Samaritan" mentality for 25 years of my life, giving so many second chances to others that I lost myself, burned out all that I had and after being forced to put up a wall to literally not die myself, is in the process of trying to reconstruct outside of that identity, with healthy boundaries, went to therapy for it and all... and it takes YEARS to dismantle that toxic thought process and it's a lonely as fuck journey! Still, I'm not going back, I will be giving respect, not forgiveness. I am trying to reach and keep being in the middle ground.)

Other people don't have to associate with you but they are responsible for how they treat you, like for any other human being, in the sense that they should not harass you with verbal or physical abuse.

Mental health should be looked after by people that are not connected to what you did, that are well rewarded for doing that job and that are protected by someone looking out for them so that you don't hurt them if you fall back on your pattern like many people with mental health problems do often.

Humans have also the right to feel anger towards people that hurt them or have hurt others that they love and they should be able to express that anger in healthy ways, one of the healthiest ways is through fiction... where if you're rooting for the villain that is fixed on his path of wanting to hurt others and likes the feeling that hurting others gives him, to die suffering, then you should be allowed to do it without that automatically meaning that you are wanting to hurt people in the real world.

How you act in real life is what's important.

But also in real life you don't have to necessarily have empathy for people that do bad shit like abusing, raping or killing someone, you don't owe them anything except the bare minimum of respect that it means you don't abuse them back. They can give you empathy and understanding and many will, not everyone will and they are allowed not to have empathy for you and if you're really in a healing path you will understand that.

At the same time if people are punching you first I will always encourage you to punch back, you will not find me on the "give the other cheek to be slapped" side of that spectrum, you will not find jesus in my blog.

I don't cry when abusers die, I am happy that there is one less abuser in the world. Does that make me "not good" ? Free to think that, I don't think it does.

I think that if you can't stop them from punching you punch back until they stop.

You should have the right to defend yourself when you don't have any other means to stop them and if you do something like killing them because you were defending yourself I will definitely forgive you more easily, you still need therapy and to be watched over for a while so that you can go back into society after all that trauma you just experienced, but I will not be as distrustful of you as I am of someone that hurts random innocent people to satisfy a personal urge inside of them even if I can recognize it's their poor mental health making them do that.

Experiencing trauma in the past can explain why you become a perpetrator in the future even to people that have done nothing to you, but it doesn't justify the abuse you are doing and keep doing day by day, and it doesn't grant you forgiveness by others that need to defend themselves from your violent impulses.

[yandereloversblog]

I'm rather curious. Do you have dark headcanons of Michael (fnaf) x female y/n by any chance, please?

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖!𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕝 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕠𝕟 -> 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝔹𝕖𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕣

•I do not have a gif for this one XD- I'm thinking of just making banners instead of having to look for them the entire time- but anyways! In my files I had this old scoring system kind of thing? I'll try looking for whoever created it but yeah! It'll touch on Michael's mental, emotional and affectionate awareness, his motives and behaviour in general.

•I might also do this for other characters? Kinda get their baseline personality down. Also I'm sorry if this is just all over the place. It's nearly 4 am and I got an important dinner to attend tomorrow that I'm not ready for :') if it isn't up to par you can request again.

───────•°˖~❉᯽❉~˖°•───────

>Fandom: Five Nights At Freddy's

>Character: Michael Afton

>Warnings: Yandere, Unhealthy and Toxic mindset, Toxic behaviour, Violent Behaviour, Mentions of murder, Stalking.

>Type Of Content: Headcanons

───────•°˖~❉᯽❉~˖°•───────

•Awareness Classification -> Lucid:

Michael is very tired. He'd rather not go around thinking up idiotic delusionals, especially if you're in the picture. Michael would know immediately he's infatuated with you and will try his best to keep it on the downlow -if his obsession doesn't get too bad immediately and he kidnaps you- He'll also know what he's doing, maybe feel bad about it but will continue to just drool over your existence because of course you're literally the light of his life right now.

•Emortional Classification -> Empathetic:

Although Michael may appear rather cold and stern at first [He's a man on a mission to undo his dad's deeds for fucks sake] he does hold a very soft spot for you. And that soft spot will continue to soften up until he's rightfully obsessed with you. He does empathise with you though, having to be loved by someone like him? What rotten luck. Now he has to kidnap you. It's the first time Michael feels alive like this and he's not letting it go.

•Affection Classification -> Owning:

Despite being in love with you, I doubt Michael has ever seen or known about a healthy romantic relationship [I mean look at the household he grew up in]. So his affection comes off as more of a desire to own you, keeping you with him forever, you still gotta give him praise for being so soft about it, least he doesn't keep you on a tight leash and collar. He doesn't know how to properly love you in any other way but all Michael knows is that he needs you.

•Motive -> Isolating:

Michael has had too many loses, he was even the cause of one, so what he does with his darling is lock them up, make sure no harm comes to them and that they're safe from the world and from him on some occasions. Don't worry though! He'll tell you a lot about what he does to keep you entertained, always giving your forehead a gentle kiss every time he leaves for work, knowing he might not return back to you physically agonizes him so he tries surviving every night. He still needs to make sure you're locked up and where he left you.

•Behaviour:

-> Obsessive: Although it's subtle, Michael is very observant when it comes to his darling, he's obsessed with knowing their every move and what they think about, the sheer thought of them brings him joy for some reason.

-> Protective: It's no surprise, he knows the dangers of the outside world, especially supernatural dangers that for a fact exist. So he's super protective of his darling when it comes to any situation.

-> Stalker: One thing Michael picked up very quickly is being quiet and stealthy, he can sneak around anywhere and he'll use it to learn every information he can about you, from your family to your favourite colour or insignificant things like your favourite blanket pattern or shape and doodles you do when you're bored. Even the smallest things excite him. He'll love to steal one bottle of your perfume and then spray it on his pillow or blanket and thing he's cuddling you

-> Monopolizing: It's way different from just simple possessiveness, Michael would want to know everything so he can control you later, especially with who you hang out with, Michael wants to have you all to himself.

-> Restraining: Michael doesn't like being separated from you after you get close. He'll always be by your side during the day, or even get you to be at his house most of the time, slowly chipping away at any option besides himself so when you decide to hang out with someone it's him. Before you know it he'll be making most decisions for you and then gaslight you when you think otherwise and especially when you try leaving his side.

-> Loneliness Induction: Michael wants you to be alone. All alone so he can have you to himself without interruptions. And if that means removing all your friends from your life, whether it was by blackmailing, destroying their reputation or killing them then so be it. Even if he has to kidnap you to get rid of anyone in his way he'll do it.

-> Removal: Michael hates it but he does find relief when getting rid of his victims, he'll remove any person in his way to get to you but is that so wrong? He's not actively going out of his way to kill them, they were just being idiots and got in his way for your affection and attention.

"Come here [Y/N], I'll be sure to take care of you, forever."

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

A blurb of Harry working out and how you can't keep your hands to yourself. Basically, I'm talking about THAT video of Harry. Sure it turned all of us tingly and last night we all meditated, a teasing smut for ya'll right here.

Your brows knighting together in your heavy slumber as the cool sheets swallowed your body whole, you moan in a kitten hum when the air-conditioned chillness gave a relaxing soothing feeling and you rub your one calf over another snuggling close to Harry's pillow.

When your body didn't molded into his's your eyes snapped open. A groan escaping your lips accompanied by a sigh when you heard the instinctive noises of him and others outside. Combing back your feral hair back and putting on some pyjamas, to look presentable since you're wearing nothing but his shirt from last night.

You trudged your way through lobby finding where they all are. A glass of water in your hand, it would've fell from your hold thanks to your grip that it didn't. The sight infront of you flipping your tummy into unbelievable somersaults, on instinct you leaned against the frame of large window pane squinting your eyes from bright sunlight moreso from the admiration.

He's working out with Jeff's sister. Pulling dumbbells effortlessly, his biceps stretching deliciously, his pecs wide spreading with his each pull and he's shining golden under the sun. Jeff's sister says something to him and his tiny cackle bellows into humid air. His sight only making arousal pool into your pyjamas sticking to the inside of your thighs.

Your heart said "fuckin' awe." when he scooches further to join his feetsies with his companion.

Your giggle chokes onto the water you're sipping when Jeff's sister announces with a hint of misheve in her voice, "We've got an intruder, here." Harry's head perks up at this. His honey gaze finding yours in an instant and the dumbbells hit the grass with a smooshing thump, when he quickly stood up reaching to you with two strides of his daddy long legs.

He pats his bum to shrug of the tickling grass, when you regained your breath back his palm pressed against your midriff from over his shirt as he smauched a loud kiss to your lips ignoring your morning breath.

"Enjoyed what ye' saw, lovie'?" He grins pinching your hip bone and you swatted his chest glaring up at him, he wrapped your both wrists into his one large hand tugging you close and your dainty squeal fused into his mouth when he couldn't resist but to give you another kiss.

He intervines your fingers dragging you outside and lays down on the ground, arms under his neck and knees bent; "Help me work out, meh sleepy girl." You chuckle rolling your eyes and folding your arms infront of your chest.

"As if you need help from me, a person who never exercised." It's true. Because due to university work you never got a chance and now your tiring job don't leaves you alone. But, that doesn't mean you aren't in love with your body. You love the way you're.

"Yeh know wha' kinda help, I want darlin'." He drawls out with a shit eating grin and you huffed dramatically giving him a playful side eye flopping onto ground where his feet are. Jeff's sister long gone knowing you people could be very handsy in eachother's presence.

You ground his ankles tightly with your small hands, butting your chin atop his bent knees with a puppy sleepy look and he brushed your hair behind your ear only coming back to his usual goofy antics by pinching your nose hard.

"Harry!!" You fussed shutting your eyes close and he giggles doing his first scrunch, stealing a kiss from your parted whining lips. He cups your cheeks there for a moment holding you still, "sorry. don't be a squirmy worm." When he goes back smoothly you throws dagger at him but your beam says otherwise.

"I'll eat you whole." Your statement honest. Because this curly head green eyed bambi's the cause of wetness between your legs and the flutterness of your heart.

He again scrunches over collecting his core tight and again pecked your lips murmuring against your mouth, "baby yeh can suck me only." Your nails digging to his calloused skin and sweat dripping down your spine.

Fifty scrunches in total like it's nothing but it was tiring you and you grabbed him by his neck when he came to meet you for his another promised kiss, "'s hot." You hiss when his long arm slided to grope your ass even after knowing the balcony's open for everyone's view.

He breaths raggingly gliding his palm up and down your heated core, "where? here, in between ye' legs?" You nod eagerly humming eroticaly. Your voice extra sexy from morning's hoarseness.

"We've only two days left. Love me, please." You pout like a baby ignoring the lump of tears in your throat at the thought of departure from him in two days back home. You traveled with him to L.A to just be his rock, to support him emotionally and physically for his debut film. He was erratic to introduce you to everyone around his new cast mates, his mouth wide into a proud ecastatic beam with his palm spread in protective manner at your back as he couldn't resist but to kiss your head when anyone would compliment you. His girl, his lovie' makin him so proud.

"'ey baby. c'mere lovie gonna take care of ye'." He pushes you up with your both hands and with a giggle you launch onto your feet smacking three pecks at the corners of his lips.

He waddled behind you whispering something in your ear that made you cackle hard and as you both passed through the kitchen, Jeff and Gelyne acted like you two don't even exist giving eachother smirks at the two doves mesireably in love with eachother.

"Done working this early?" Gelyne teased Hary and he swiped the sweat over his forehand dramatically puffing his chest out, "gonna work fo' somethin' else now." You blew a hit to him at his pervert talking.

You snorted clamping your mouth shut when he roared like a lion pretending to eat the apples of your tinted cheeks, his hips bucking to meet yours in feverish heat as the back of your knees collided with the cool tiles of ensuite bathroom.

"Gonna miss yeh s' bad." He whispered kissing the soft bone of your ear and you gulped thickly coiling your arms around his neck. "Me too, bubs. Promise me you'd fly twice a month back London. Back, home." You moaned into his mouth when he grabbed your jaw to slot his lips to yours in a messy, drooling and sweaty kiss sealing his promise into affection.

His hands sneaking under his shirt to fondle with your tits, pinching it mildly causing you to arch your spine and grind your pyjama clad pussy against his bulge.

Soon the fabric was pooling at your shins. He whimpered at the glistening moisture of yours, "drippin' fo' me lovie?" You bob your head vigorously making grabby hands at him.

"This needs t' go." You tugged the hum of his white shorts sticking to his plump ass sexily and he chuckled squishing your cheeks and showering you in kisses at your cuteness, "'s fuckin' thirsty fo' me' cock."

"Ah! bloody darn." He grunted letting his head fall to the crook of your neck when you yanked his shorts down finding him in nothing. You tsked maneuvering your fingers through his damp curls pulling at them demandingly and roughly, "such a whore. had your balls shoved onto people's faces." The next thing he said made your laughs billow into mauve washroom.

"Whore fo' you." With a grin and bottom lip sucked inside your mouth you wrapped your palm around his hard girth spreading his pre-come from his rosy tip down his shaft sloppyily.

The pads of his fingers brushed your fluttering pussylips and you gasped attaching your mouth to his when he nursed your cunt with your own arousal, teasing two fingers at your clenching hole.

There's something in touching eachother at the same time, it's just too intimate it makes you combust right at that moment.

"Want you. Please, inside." You gave him sweet eyes stroking him slowly and lewdly, while he slipped his one finger deep inside your soapy cunt knuckles pressed to your pussylips and he curled it to nuzzle your g-spot.

His lips remained rested on your forehead as you lined him at your entrance. Your chests flushing with erotic breaths when he was completely buried inside your walls. His veiny, thick and warm skin seathing through your delicacy making both of you moan.

"Don't." He whimpered lowly when you creampied around his thick cock in rapid patterns. He scratched his blunt nails down your back to grope your ass and shoved his fingers between your asscheeks to give you double stimulation.

He swallowed groggily, "will cum at the spot if ye' keep squeezin' 'round me' cock like this, pet." You nodded and he finds you so innocent he could cry from the love that's oozing out for you from straight his heart.

He pinned you roughly against the tiles. Palms full with your pulpy tits as he slowly started to to thrust into you. Your cheek smashed atop his shoulder and you rocked your pelvis to his movements. The view in the mirror infront of you making you more slick than you already are and it tricked down your legs.

His back's flexing, curls droopy, his arse on full display and juicy. When you gave it a smack he groaned into your ear giving a pleasuring rough thrust in return.

His pre-come weeping into your cunt when you digged your nails into his ass and he pushed his thumb hard against your asshole, rubbing it with stroking electrifying patterns.

"Ha-harry..." You clinged around his sweaty body when he kept on fucking inside you with mind clogging pace. The trim patch of his pubic hair tickling against your pelvis bone and he pressed his hand against your lower abdomen looking you in eyes, "could feel me in yeh' tummy?" His words causing you to lull your head on your shoulders giving him access to the exposed skin of your throat.

He wrapped his hand around your throat giving it a squeeze and leaving lovebites from your jaw down to your collarbones, "asked ye' somethin' pretty girl." He growled biting menacingly the soft skin of your sternum and you cried out filthyly clamping your pussy tight around him.

"Yes. Wanna cum." He retorted at this sucking your lower lip into his mouth and circling your clit with languid harshness.

"Cum fo' me, lovie'. come all over daddy's cock like a good girl yeh' are." He cradled your face. Kissing your eyelids, your bunny nose and your sweet little dirty mouth.

Your pupils blowing out wide and lips parting. With knighted brows you looked at Harry making grabby hands at him when you felt your orgasm building in your belly.

Knowing you always need Harry to embrace you in his arms when you come, he immediately scooped you up in his arms running soothing patterns at the nape of your neck still rocking inside you lazily. He himself bout to cum hard.

"Hmm. You're there baby, c'mon give it to meh'" With a strangled moan you came all over him. Your wetness cinching around him tipple him to edge too and he doubled over slapping his palm over your head and hugging you close to his chest.

"Fuck me' favourite kinda work-out." He grinned pecking your lips and pulling out of you to step back. You squealed when the cold shower poured over your heads like a furious rain.

"Pervert." You laughed poking his skin near his belly button but he whacked it away feeling ticklish.

The coming few months would be excruciating without him and you'll have to live through facetimes and voice-calls, but it's okay. His happiness's yours.

*

[gffa]

I know I've brought this up before, but how much of the fandom reception of the prequels do you think stemmed from the genre dissonance? That the prequels, genre-wise, are closer to high fantasy, while the OT is more an adventure/space western/underdog triumph story.

The prequels also have elements more reminiscent of a romantic period/court drama/Shakespearean tragedy, while if you consider the underdog angle of the OT, the OT also seems kinda similar to some of those inspirational movies about sports teams or something, or a shonen anime with the "Power of Friendship".

I'm just saying, these are rather disparate genres that tend to attract different demographics of people.

And not many people tend to be... great about understanding why they don't like something, much less putting it into words, or understanding that they can dislike something without that something being actually bad. (For example, instead of "I just don't really like [thing]," the usual statement is something along the lines of "[thing] absolutely sucks.")

So the usual response is trying to find (and gather) solidarity while putting down or being condescending towards any dissent, and trying to justify their own dislike. (*gestures vaguely towards pineapple on pizza*)

And historically, it's not uncommon for people to... react strongly towards things they find... different or abnormal, which they judge based on themselves, their emotional response to something, and what they're used to.

Looking at kids, this behavior is... fairly normal. "You're weird," "ew, why do you like that, that's gross," "that's stupid," and so on. A lot of kids/teens/young adults also get defensive really easily. And let's face it--adults are basically just older, taller kids who've had to deal with more of life.

(To be honest, I also get defensive really easily. A lot of people do, and it's... it's normal. The defensive reaction can be lashing out, denial, or just being passive-aggressive or staying silent and tuning it out or mentally rolling your eyes at it. But I'm trying to work on it, because just because it's normal doesn't mean it's a good reaction.)

So, what I'm wondering is whether some fans dislike the prequels simply because it's a different genre...

...but instead of realizing that, they try to defend and justify their dislike by pointing fingers and criticizing whatever stood out or looked different from the OT or cherry-picking details/taking things out of context or making negative conflations (that can be refuted).

Because it's not about logic, it's about how they feel. And people want to feel justified and validated, and we want to feel like we're right and we enjoy staying in our comfort zones. So... yeah. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

LOL, okay, this response is going to be really disjointed because I went off in like a dozen different tangents and even then it's not enough to cover everything, so just kind of read this in a Scattered Thoughts Nerd kind of tone, where I'm staring off into the distance because Navel Gazing Gets Me Going Sometimes. 😂 In my experience, it's sort of a mix. I don't hang around a lot of people who dislike the prequels (in the sense of dismissing them/not being fannish about them) because, well, that's the heart of my interest in Star Wars, so our areas of interest basically don't really overlap that much, so I don't have a chance to talk to a lot of people and find out their reasons or even how they dislike the prequels, in the bigger trends of fandom. I do think there's an element of what you're talking about, that sometimes people can't just dislike things because it's not their genre of choice, that's absolutely a part of it. Mostly because that's how a lot of people react to anything they don't like (and it's something I and literally everyone else has to work on), there has to be a reason for it that it's objectively bad and, like, I have experienced a lot of people getting mad because I like something in a different way than they do. And I don't mean just in Star Wars fandom, but in almost any given fandom--if someone likes something in a way someone else doesn't, if they talk loudly about it (even within their own space), then there's always a contingent of people who have to find a reason why that person is objectively wrong (or even try to make them morally wrong), rather than just shrugging and going, "We see things differently, my view on things doesn't overwrite theirs and their view on things doesn't overwrite mine." It gets more complicated in instances where fandom attitudes genuinely can be hurtful, especially when they're overlapping into the way real people are treated, likes/dislikes don't 100% exist in a bubble, especially when it comes to queer fans, fans of color, disabled fans, mentally ill fans, etc. But that there are a lot of instances where fandom culture has always been--and is increasingly so--contentious and it's hard to chill out when someone is always screaming at you, when the atmosphere of the fandom is always so intense. Further, there's also an element of how fandom has always been--and also is increasingly so--about personal resonance, personal emotional investment, interpretation, and meaning. That sometimes we identify with something so deeply that we feel attacked when someone else likes or dislikes something we feel so strongly about, something that we feel is a reflection of ourselves, and I see a lot of that as well. And this, too, often crosses over into lines of how the context of how we treat characters can be reflections of how we treat real world people, but that there's no monolith here as well. For example: I make fun of Anakin, this angers some people, because how dare I not take this fictional victim 100% seriously, despite that I have repeatedly said that Anakin is the character I most identify with, that things I make fun of him for are ones that I resonate with personally. I'm not disrespecting mentally ill people, especially considering that Anakin is not bound to a single interpretation on this front--he is not canonically mentally ill, no matter how easy it is for us in fandom to map much of that onto his character or, in my case, feel that so much of what I see in him are things I struggle with myself. By and large, the majority of the people I see (at least on tumblr) who make fun of Anakin are doing so within the same vein, that they're being silly about him on things that they personally relate to. (My experiences on this are not universal, I cannot speak for the whole of even any one part of fandom, only my own sphere of experience, but this is what I've seen.) As always, it's fine if someone doesn't vibe with my style or they find that it's not their thing because they do take him more seriously, but that preference does not make my jokes

suddenly not have the context that I relate a lot to what I see in Anakin. In contrast, the way some of the fandom treats Mace or Finn isn't just personal all the time. Not liking their characters isn't inherently racist, but the way they're consistently, consistently treated sure as hell speaks to a larger pattern of racism in fandom and doesn't come without that context. It's the same with Rey--is there a huge vein of misogyny when it comes to her character? Abso-fucking-lutely there is. Things Luke and Anakin get a pass on, Rey is raked over the coals for. Is everyone who dislikes Rey a misogynist? Not even close. Some don't like her because Finn was used as a prop for her story. Some people don't like her because she got sucked into Kylo Ren's story too much. Some just don't care for the way she was written for other reasons. Some just don't vibe with her. It's fine. Nothing is a monolith. And to circle this back around to what you're talking about--it's hard to judge, both because no part of fandom is a monolith in their reactions, but also because we're only hearing from a selection of the fans. How do you know how many people who aren't fans of the prequels, who just don't care for them because it's not their genre, but just go about their day? You don't hear from a lot of them because they moved on to things they do like, so it seems like they must not exist--except, they do, and they're just out there doing things they like more. We only hear from the people who feel the need to tell others they dislike the prequels for this reason or that reason, some valid, some less valid, etc. Ultimately, I do think there's probably a fair amount of genre dissonance for why people dislike the prequels and channel that into "they're objectively bad" and get defensive when people like them and say they were great, but only because that's true of anything anywhere. But that it's only one small slice of the bigger picture (and there's a lot of stuff that I had to eschew in the writing of this response as well because it can be a pretty sprawling topic), where there are tons of reasons and reactions that people have, as well as they're perfectly free to dislike the prequels for whatever reason they do or don't have, it doesn't really affect my opinions, unless they're trying to shove it in my face or are being a dick to those who disagree with them.

[mediacinemtographyartetc]

I have issues with "Turning Red."

Okay so I have some issues with Turning Red, but the problem is no one is bringing this up or pointing it out so I thought it's just me I'll just pretend the movie doesn't exist and let people vibe.

But the only critic is regurgitated bs about "It's about periods- Parents hate it- anti-feminists hate it- Racists hate it-"

like it's all BOTS and fake and not actually critising the film but if I say hey I don't like turning red it is hard to sit through and I just can't watch it I would be lumped with those guys when I have no problem with the film.

I see people like it, I've seen spoilers and think "Oh man that looks cool- but this one THING I just can't sit through the film."

THe actual critics are divided and it says nothing about the film.

[Read more for why I couldn't sit through it- but if you REALLY like turning red back away and don't read coz if you read the rest, then thats on you, you take responsibility.]

Truth is. I can see that this is a good film, the animation elements feel like anime came to cgi better than what ghibli's earwig witch could've done. So that gets a point!

it was able to convey so many messages for EVERYONE was it puberty or was it being diagnosed with a disability? Was it about how young girls have to mask?

I do think the film has charm- there are elements I want to see...

I just couldn't get past the first 12 minutes.

I'm just saying when your on the spectrum when others get representation others don't. as in, the beggining of the movie is a LOT of information packed with random colours, quick shots then theres the dialouge is just tossed in there to the point where it's a bit random and 'quircky'

There would be nothing wrong with that, if it wasn't for the fact that when it comes to boys cartoons everyone is unique has an archetype, the leader the clown the intellect, but with girls like Mabel [Gravity Falls] Lutz [Owl House] Adora [She-ra] Theres a continuing pattern of "I'm am so raNDOM the cake is a LiE- I'm so QURICKY LOL!"

With mei being...alot, I can see myself in this character and know I was just like that as a kid. So I don't dislike her at all. Its just I am getting a lot of information and becoming very overwhelemed to the point where I can't process what is even happening where I didn't even catch their names.

My family [And I] are dsylexic, one sympton is being unable to concentrate on multiple things at once. [So thats my brains fault, not the movie]

So the beggining of turning red is probably giving most people a dopamine rush which awesome, while myself, feel like I'm getting a headache.

And all those quick shot flashing images can't be good for people who are epiplectic [Incredibles 2 was also just as bad so I blame Pixar as a whole it's not just a criticism for this movie its at the company]

Mei is fine. I was able to watch majority because of her she was great and I thought okay I can sit through this.

But her friends feel a bit copy pasted of mei, all out there and random but nothing that seperates them and the only one who seems a little bit different is the one with the tone death voice like the girl from the office leading back to the whole.

Either your the goth or the prep girl like thats it.

So then theres the pacing- which means how the information is presented to you on screen is it fast paced is it slow paced- this isn't a problem with JUST turning red-

I noticed this in loki too.

quick example- current audiences of ALL ages are used to FAST. PACE. INFO. NOW.

Thanks to youtubes algorithim of post a video everyday- Tik toks/instagram CONSTANT quick snap of videos having to be conveyed in so many seconds for people to make a quick judgment to like the video to keep it going. So take current audiences and make them watch an old black and white movie.

Chances are...you're going to be bored out of your mind. So I've noticed tons of current cartoons are just getting a bit more fast and faster to the point where it feels as if someone is hitting fast-forward and everyone is speaking like a chipmunk.

With loki [another show with pacing issues]

There are opening shots of a mountain and it feels as if it's going on a bit too long where you are staring at a shot that is 10 seconds when it should've been five.

When the title screen appears of Mei I thought that was well done, and it gave me such ghibli vibes, but then it kept going of mei just randomly dancing and it was going on longer than it should've been.

Then theres moments in the beggining thats overly animated/over the top like the introduction of town 4 it feels as if the over the top animation should've started once it's established its characters first.

Introducing town 4 was for us the audience to know who the frick these guys were.

Meanwhile the girls already know who town 4 is, I wouldn't change/axe the scene just use the magazine and use the animation of having the town 4 models suddenly come alive of the page where you are transported INTO the magazine of them getting introduced- the transition wouldn't be jarring and having Mei fastly telling you who each one was as if even SHE was trying to keep up with the animation being overly ambitious which felt like a waste of time to the animators leaving the bigger stuff to the middle towards the end towards the finalle- I mean the beggining wasn't EASING us into this world of characters it felt like a slap to the face.

I'm saying as a media student, Mei is fast paced which fair enough it would've been a better juxtapisition to have the animation not as fast/jarring so you're able to hear her speak without trying to figure out whats going on half the time.

Then the dialouge of the girls holding mei back from getting her bus to do a quircky dance- it feels too random but if in the few mintues previous of mei explaining town 4 and the boys DID that dance it would make sense as thats whats keeping them together and a common interest for them all.

idk- it's awful because turning red isn't the only thing that does this- so many of disneys movies regugitate and spew out information in a dump then slow the pace down agonsiingly slow near the end.

I despice Disneys nutcracker, I can't stand Loki, and others movies I can't sit through because Disneys pacing is just atrocious.

Turning Red.

There is nothing WRONG with the information that is turning red being the characters, the animation and everything about it. Its how that information is presented in pacing-dialouge etc.

I have grown up on anime so I'm wondering maybe if I change the language and put subtitles on would that make it easier to watch, I watched spanish/Japanise and chinese dramas/shows animations etc.

The only thing I can think that would explain it [because to reititare since NO ONE is talking about it I KNOW IT'S just me and no one else feels this way about the movie]

Is that as a kid I would watch youtubers who were/are diagnosed with adhd- colourful and fast paced youtube channels like thomas sanders/jazza/jacksepticeye/smosh etc I would gravitate towards.

But as a 25 year old I noticed those channels would grow up appear more calmer and I noticed I have changed and gravitate towards more slower paced videos.

Current kids who've reacted, genuinly enjoy the film.

And thats the POINT!

IF you're a kid/teen whose reading this who cares what I think- if you enjoyed the movie thats IT- the movie did it's job. And with most of fans enjoying it and giving it good reception than thats a win in my book!

Do I think Turning Red is over-hated? Yeah. I think people should talk about the issues the movie has but also the good parts. And to me I do think the good outweigh the bad. Also the fanart fans have made is making me want to give the movie a second chance and try to watch it again *fingers crossed.*

Then theres the others thing [feel free to ignore this]

Okay remember I am 25 and I have watched...ALOT of movies.

So the whole turning red is a period analogy is off-putting to me-

As a women I'll explain- don't bite my head off.

But it just makes me think "Who wrote this stephen king?"

I am just tired of the whole, periods is a metaphor of being a monster or some sort of sexual awakening [carrie/beverly] So seeing a red Panda [monster] and period makes me tired because YES that is something that young girls face and YES good on the movie to make it normal thats okay thats fine.

But it kinda reduces girls to their bodies and some kids who may be transitioning don't get that and seems pretty exclusive [DO NOT take my word for this I am not speaking for trans/nonbinary as I have no right just pointing it out tho]

I have my own issues with it and believe that yeah periods are normal [I tease my dad about it every waking moment] but in media it feels very tired/overplayed to the point where I feel like I prefer if Turning Red was about puberty the line of being an adult acting your age and hiding elements of yourself while also being a teenager struggling with brand new emotions thats very overwhleming chipping away parts of yourself and trying to act like an adult- issues with feminity and either being overly feminie [slut] or rejecting feminity [tomboy or dyke] or maybe being on the spectrum and 'masking' trying to act neruotypical to 'fit in'

I feel like a period analogy is overplayed, but when it comes to neurodivergence, feminism, maturity etc thats something that feels refreshing so I lean more towards that personally.

Meanwhile others would find the period analogy perfect and refreshing so I'm not outright rejecting I am stating that I prefer one thing but I'm aware others would prefer something else.

So I am giving Turning Red another point for being able to convey something for everyone. Like we can all exist in this one space with our own thoughts/opinions without stepping on anyones toes.

My only question for the people who read this far and are either fuming and want to tell me how wrong I am- I will ignore.

My only question is- does the pacing get better later on in the film, should I give it another chance because some of the shots/scenes I've been spoiled seem to be paced very well so I was wondering is it a rushed opening but then sails on later on in the movie?

OR if someone does genuinly want to know and asks "Yeah I've read all of this and completely disregarded it because how can you not like the film I just don't understand."

I know you're probably thinking you're in the right place, but this type of response always puts me in a rage to the point where I can't think.

I have put evidence here and if you can't understand then any further in depth or response from me would just be wasting each others time.

And I would assume you were a troll.

And it makes me feel as if all of my thoughts/feelings was disregarded because someone was too busy being offended over a cartoon.

I have put in so many times how the issues I had was mostly pacing dialouge which means its not what there saying it's how someone edited the whole thing and put them all together thats all.

[themockingcrows]

i got hit with a deep wave of peace and serenity earlier, instead of my usual sense of impending doom and anxiety, and it stuck out so much to me it was kind of alarming. i didn't know if i should trust it, if it was actually something bad or not. mentioned it to therapist.

he, in his gentle old man way, pointed out that the good vibes prolly would've happened regardless of if I had planned for them or not. he also gently pointed out that poking and prying and questioning every good vibe that comes my way will in fact kill it faster and make the anxiety and distrust win out.

it made me think of things being like a butterfly. vibe will come, it will sit on your hand, walk on your fingers as you marvel at its wings and delicacy and how gently you need to treat this little thing for it to stay alive. then it will leave on its own volition when its time to be there is done, and the cycle will continue on and one.

you don't squish butterflies. you don't grasp their slender bodies, you don't break their wings and rip them apart to see how they work while they're alive. if you're that curious, look at a dead one, one that isn't coming and going anymore. you are gentle as a whisper with them, existing in the same space as them, until they leave again. you don't know when the next butterfly is going to sit on you, but you can make yourself an environment that would welcome butterflies to increase the chances. you can look for butterflies purposefully, or even place them there on purpose from somewhere else for a while. you can grow your own butterflies.

but the butterflies will still follow a pattern of past, present, future. coming, there, gone.

and you have to trust that there will be butterflies again. it might not be immediate, it might even be a while. but there will always be more butterflies when things are right for them, and till they come on their own there are pictures, there are videos, there are toys, there are other people talking about butterflies they're experiencing. so you're never entirely without them forever, no matter what.

i don't know where i'm going with this. i just thought it was neat.

[dngrcpckwithmurdericing]

Disabled sewing - YMMV

I watch a lot of what seems to be affectionately known as "costube" and I make a lot of my own clothes at this point, which is !!!!! to me, since it was always a dream of mine when I was a kid. I found costube invaluable to me to explain how garments piece together - which is the first thing I have realized about my "disabled sewing".

I have read SO many books and purchased SO many patterns, only to give up in frustration, but actually watching someone piece together a garment from start to finish (and not in the Project Runway sense) made my ADHD, visual learning brain go: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

(Not sure why that surprised me, since "watch one, do one, teach one" is how I learn the best and always has been.)

Modern sewing is pretty focused on sewing machines, and I have had many in my life (starting with one from the 1950s set into a wooden table that folded up to have a glass top !) but I find it difficult and confusing to keep track of what I am doign with a sewing machine. Hand stitching, just because of what it is, forces me to slow down and focus on one seam at a time.

But my hands cramp and have tremors and that does not seem to be the case for the folks who film their sewing adventures.

I have learned to use a long needle. This goes against most hand sewing advice for clothes, because a short, small needle gives you lss of a "puncture" through the fabric and more "cntrol", but a longer needle, as long as it is slim, can still fit throug the weave of the fabric instead of puncturing it - especially with how loosely woven modern fabric is - and since there's more room to hold it, I can switch ff which fingers hold it, change the shape of my hand as it is holding it, and also don't drop it when my fingers tremor.

In hand stitching garments, if you read manuals - especially historical ones from the Victorian era - and sometimes in the "costube" videos - there's focus on making tiny, neat stitches. Well. First of all, the interior of your garment is your own, so if you are doing a back stitch, your garment will pretty much stick together, and no one will see. But also, I learned (I think from something Matthew Gnagy said in one of his videos) that modern fabric is so much more loosely woven than historical fabrics that tiny stitches can actually make your garment LESS structurally sound, rather than more. Since I learned that, I stopped feeling bad about not being able to make my stitches one mm long, and started focusing on getting the stitching done in a way that does not hurt/exacerbate my hand, finger, and wrist problems. I usually end up with 2 stitches per cm, or 4-5 stitches to an inch.

Yes, this is drastically fewer stitches per inch than you'd get with a sewing machine, and it might not work for something like a kirtle, where the stitches are taking the full weight stress of the garment, but you know what? If I were making a kirtle, I could just do TWO LINES OF STITCHING and then I would have 10 stitches per inch, and that measure can take about 50 lbs of stress (per sewing machine guidelines), which would be fine. (Although there is a 0% chance I will ever make a kirtle, since I can't wear tight things and couldn't button the sleeves up anyway!)

I mark out my stitch lines with pencil or pen (I don't use fancy fabrics, so what do I care if there's a pen mark on my cotton until it's washed?), and am very careless with seam allowance. As long as the seam allowance exists, the vagarities don't really matter - and cutting in a straight line is a no-go because of my hands and wrists, so not having to worry about cutting along a seam allowance line is great.

And then I often take a bright cheap polyester thread and baste. I can't sew in a straight line. I literally cannot draw a straight line with a ruler. But that actually rarely matters! If there's a running stitch every inch or so, I can eyeball it enough to get a decent enough seam. If someone is looking so closely at my clothing that they can see the side seam or the hem is a cm crooked, they are frankly standing way too close to me and should step the fuck away.

One thing some costubers do that I thought would be helpful but turned out to not work for me personally is pin the end of the fabric to a tailor's ham, or pillow, to help keep the tension. But it may work for some folks.

Finally, the last thing on my list is that due to my migraines, I have a hard time stitching in natural sunlight. However, I've found that my seasonal affective disorder sunlamp, which has brightness levels and can be situated into the exact position I want, make stitching a lot easier! And also can be used at any time of day, so if I want to sew at 7 pm, I don't have to worry that I am losing the sunlight, I can just adjust my lamp that does NOT trigger migraines, and sew for a half hour that way.

Lots of breaks are also crucial! Every 15 minutes or so, I give my hands and eyes a rest, and move around as much as I can to stretch out, just like when I'm working on the computer. Or, like, how I try to do when working on the computer and fail because I'm too hyperfocused on what I'm doing.

\o/

What are your disabled sewing tricks and tips?

[belit0]

Omega Izuna Part 2

Chapter 9 of Husbands, and my messy writing

Rated: M

Tw: Underage trafficking / brothel / induced heat.

Summary: Izuna meets Tajima's plans.

[I should note that Izuna is 9 years old and Madara is 16. The age of the remaining siblings is irrelevant. Don't worry, there is no underage, although things are getting a lot darker for Izu. Be careful while reading this chapter, I guess]

Little Omega walks through the streets of the Uchiha compound while securing his eyes on the ground. At the front line, his two Alphas brothers have some distance, struggling not to be identified in the clan’s company’s humiliation. Both teenagers have been chatting with shouts and amusement since they left home in the dawn, on a mission to transport Izuna.

The inexperienced child could not pick up the destination for his older relatives were to take him to, direct orders from Tajima given in the commander’s confinement’s room, that place at home where Izuna’s little ears reached no sound. He was not suicidal enough to sneak away and listen in secret, but the reference of his name had made its way to him when the two Alphas finished conversing with their father and left that room.

Whenever Madara was absent, whatever the reason, distant unpleasant situations for the youngest brother of the five would turn out. Tajima waited for the chance when his firstborn was not around to protect him, continually planning various forms to get rid of Izuna at the slimmest opportunity.

And now, while the Alpha heir was away under false pretexts, Izuna is quickly shoved from his spot on the floor and pulled through the exit to the streets.

Only times when the Omega was lucky enough to doze in an actual bed, those nights when Madara was at home and nestled him tight every night.

Walking reluctantly, he doesn’t know what to predict. His eyes refuse to face up, for he knows people must point fingers at him and say things similar to what his father mutters every day. On his back, where the symbol of the Uchiha clan should shine proudly like everyone else’s around, only sits a clumsily traced drawing.

Tajima tore all the embroidered emblems from his robes upon understanding his fifth child was an Omega, sentencing him to survival in ridicule and public degradation. It was Madara, who with charcoal and any element capable of leaving some kind of trace on the dull blue cloth symbolic of the Uchihas, promoted him to make his own pattern, making Izuna feel part of those who repudiated his presence so much.

At nine years old, he simply knows one individual who cares for his life. His older brother.

“Go faster, you little piece of shit!”

“Yeah... enough with Father making us deal with your existence, and now you choose to take your time!”

At the shouts of his older relatives, Izuna’s exposed feet hurry, deciding to catch up with them. Tajima forbade him to wear sandals like the rest of the clan, highlighting his inferiority.

After a long-distance, both Alphas guide the little Omega to an area of the Uchiha compound little known, or rather, little recognized. The zone where no one with economic assets wants to set foot, where Uchihas condemned by the war or the wives of deceased soldiers would poverty, forced to seek refuge far from the clan’s judgmental people.

“The dead zone” is what Madara used to call it whenever he complained about the leader’s heartlessness. Omegas who had lost their Alphas because of the clan’s constant clashes mostly populated it, leaving them adrift and without their life mates.

The problem was the Uchiha had no regard for that rank, labeling them as baby incubators, seed vessels, and consolation holes.

The pair of eldest brothers walk with impunity, as desperate, in heat Omegas throw themselves upon them, begging to be taken. They both laugh disdainfully, slapping and throwing the women to the ground as if they were rag dolls.

Izuna covers his eyes with both hands, looking solely at the ground to know when to lift his barefoot and step over someone’s body. It is a dark scene that marks the boy’s mind with fire, but nothing compared to what his father has prepared.

The Alphas take him to a crumbling building, where they knock on a red door with a special code. A large, tall, female opens it, staring with a bitter hate-filled expression. Both grab the boy by the collar of his robe and throw him into the woman’s arms while smirking.

“Get him ready. Father said we could keep it as a toy if it turned out to be worthy.”

The woman doesn’t answer, simply closes the door noisily, and leaves Izuna’s older brothers on the other side. She takes him by the wrist and leads the way roughly down a dark corridor until she reaches a room.

Silent tears fall from his eyes, while he only thinks of Madara’s arms around him, soothing. All is fine because Aniki is here. Harsh, rough hands raspy from combat, delicate just for him.

But there is no Aniki here, no tenderness, just a woman preparing some weird tea, smelling too strange and tasting too bad to be normal. She forces the boy to swallow it in a single sip, pushing the glass over his lips and coercing him to gulp while squeezing his nose shut so he can’t breathe or avoid the liquid.

No matter how hard Izuna kicks and whines, she’s too big for him to escape. He never set foot on the battlefield, Tajima always forbade it, he could not allow the reason for his deepest dishonor to show face in front of his enemies.

The Omega grew weak and unskilled in defense, making him admire even more his precious Aniki. The one who, like the entire Uchiha clan, could turn into a fearsome and gigantic red-eyed black wolf. Alphas’ qualities were extraordinary, and Izuna admits feeling envious of it.

If he could become a terrifying wolf, he would rip that woman’s head off and get out of there, escape, maybe even kill Tajima. But no, all he can do is wag his thin feline tail angrily and hide his ears in disgust, hoping for some mercy.

“This will take a few minutes, maybe 10 or more, when you feel the effects scream for help.”

“He-e…”

“Foolish boy, once your heat starts, I’ll bring over your initial client.”

That couldn’t be right. No Omega has their first heat until the age of 15, and Izuna is simply nine. How is that possible? The feeling of panic spreads through his stomach as his fists clench tightly in his palms, his long fingernails digging into his skin.

The drink, the tea.

She had forcibly induced his first heat at a totally inappropriate age.

[fairycosmos]

Sorry for bothering you angel but I have noone else to talk to.I really dont know what to do anymore. I'm so suicidal that I don't know how i'm still alive,how i'm able to breath it just doesn't feel right being alive.My mind keeps telling me to do something to end it all and I'm just numb.The worst thing is that even the closest person in my life doesn't know how bad it is bc i'm always the one to help them with their depression and im so drained.I'm just here to help other no matter how broken

hey love, i’m so sorry to hear you’re going through such a difficult time right now  😞 but you’re not bothering me at all, so don’t worry about that. firstly i really hope you’re currently in a safe environment and that you remain there, above all else. you were able to send this and reach out for some form of support even anonymously and that’s a really good sign. i’m proud of you for being here and for making it to this point, and i want to thank u for being so open with me because i know it’s not easy. secondly i really want to stress that you can’t believe anything your mind is telling you right now, seriously. one of the biggest illusions of mental illness is that it convinces you to think in black and white, to believe that everything negative is permanent and that there’s no way forward. but that’s never the case in reality. there is so much that can be done to change your habitual thinking patterns, your sense of self worth and just the general situation you’re in right now. in fact, change is inevitable if you stick around long enough to see it. it’s happening constantly, even when you don’t realise it. and so is healing and growth, even when you’re in pain too. it is entirely possible to recuperate, for happiness and peace to become a consistent theme in your future. yes, you. i know it’s probably impossible to believe in this moment but i hope you can still accept the sentiment anyway, because it’s true. and what’s more than that, you deserve it. you’re able to give your time and energy to others who are dealing with what you’re also dealing with, and that’s wonderful, but you are COMPLETELY worthy of receiving that same energy and love. i promise. if you need to take some time to focus on your own mental health rather than on those around you, then that’s perfectly fine and there’s no shame in that. it can be hard to internalize everyone else’s grief, and quite emotionally exhausting at times, so don’t let your mind make you feel bad for needing some space. it’s the most natural, human thing in the world. and i’m sure those that care for you want to hear what you’re going through too, i’m sure they want the chance to return the favour and to be there for you. you can give them that by opening up. no matter how hard it is to actually reach out, please please know that the option is always there and that you are never as alone as your mind wants you to believe. another tactic of depression is that it wants you to isolate yourself so you don’t feel the comfort of other people and their perspective, so the only thing you can believe is your own bad thoughts - but you CAN choose to subvert that urge, to talk to those around you about whats going on in your head. it’s okay. if not them, there are a lot of suicide/mental health hotlines available 24/7, and there’s also the option of talking to your doctor/a therapist/a support group to see if they can help you implement a treatment plan (if you haven’t done so already.) even if you have to force the words out, just tell them what you told me. it doesn’t have to make sense, you just have to let it out. sometimes mental illness is just as serious as physical illness and it needs real medical attention in order to overcome, and that’s alright. it’s something a lot of people go through, and it looks different for everyone. but just picking up the phone and making that appointment or talking to a loved one can make a massive difference. there is so much that can be done in terms of therapy - identifying the root causes of why you feel the way you do, giving you the tools to fight the episodes in a healthy way when they do arise - but at the end of it you CAN learn to live a happy and full life despite those days where you just want to give up. it’s a matter of time, finding the balance that suits you and getting through each day long enough to see the results of your progress.

i know it all feels like too much effort, and i’m not saying you have to do any of this right now. or that talking to someone will solve everything. and i’m very very familiar with that debilitating brand of numbness you’re describing - it makes everything genuinely feel beyond hopeless and so far away, it is so so heavy and i don’t blame you for being exhausted. but it’s also so possible for the feeling and the presence to return back to your life, one area at a time. i often think of it like my souls got pins and needles and i need to massage the numbness away with care and patience. you said you don’t know how you’re still alive - it’s because you’re supposed to be. it’s because some part of you, no matter how tired of all this shit you are, recognizes that there is a lot worth holding onto. even if your brain isn’t allowing you to see it in this moment. i hate to be cliche, but when it really comes down to it nothing would be the same without you. you exist and see this world through your unique perspective and love in your own specific way because you’re here. and no one else is you and that is more than good enough. there is so much waiting for you, man. recovery is possible in so many forms, and i’m not just saying that at all. i would fucking hate to think of you acting on your temporary emotions and only regretting it when it’s far too late to go back, and unfortunately i think that occurrence is very common in people who suffer through this sort of thing. as a person and as someone who has been given the chance to experience this world for a fraction of a moment in human history, i hope more than anything you can simply allow yourself to do that. and that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to have bad days, or to hate this world sometimes because i absolutely do too. it can be hellish, and we have a right to be in pain. but that doesn’t mean we’re beyond hope and help. it doesn’t mean there aren’t a million different ways to make this all feel more manageable, one step at a time. some days getting through one minute at a time counts as a great victory, and you’ve done it a million times before. so please, if you feel like you’re in danger, please just call someone. don’t listen to your mind anymore, don’t feed into it. just get yourself to safety even if you have to act on autopilot. it’s going to be so worth it so much sooner than you think, im serious. you need some rest, maybe to practice some mindfulness and to focus your brain on some low energy positive coping mechanisms, and to let someone know how you’re doing if possible - all of this will allow you to stop spiraling inwards and start focusing on whats going on around you. i’ll leave a few links that may be of some service to you. please know that i care and that so many people do, that your life is so much more than this moment/what you’ve been through so far. if you need a friend or if you want to talk about this properly, please let me know. i’m here and i understand a lot of us do. sending so much, please stay safe above all else love. that’s all you gotta focus on right now x

https://faq.whatsapp.com/general/security-and-privacy/global-suicide-hotline-resources/

https://www.getselfhelp.co.uk/suicidal.htm

https://www.healthquality.va.gov/guidelines/MH/srb/OvercomingSuicidalThoughtsandFeelingsFINAL.pdf

https://www.getselfhelp.co.uk/depression.htm

https://www.mind.org.uk/media-a/2960/suicidal-feelings-2016.pdf

[kendrixtermina]

Since you seem to enjoy analyzing stories I was wondering if you have any advice on what to do when your mind narrows in on critical aspects? I usually really enjoy analyzing media but recently I found that my mind tends to hyper-focus on aspects that I don't like even when I'm actively trying to ignore it and focus on what I do like. So I was just curious if you have tips for dealing with it and/or getting out of this mindset. Thanks and I apologize if this isn't the right blog for this!

Ugh. This is a big question and I’m not sure I’m qualified or immune to complaining. But I consider myself honored, I’ll try my best to answer it. 

There’s three things you can do here

a) Try to find out where it’s coming from. 

Cross-examine yourself active listening wise. Your reactions can generally come from two places: What you’re actually looking at, or yourself. 

Is everything annoying you as of late because you are angry? Are you having a bad week because of something in your private life? Are you sensitive because some larger tendency in RL/society is pissing you off? Is it even anger? What are you feeling and why? Does it really have anything to do with this movie etc?

Or is it something about the work itself? Does it remind you of something that happened to you? Does your displeasure come from a value that is important to you or a pattern that you believe to be a bad influence on society. 

Really try to put into words what it is that makes you feel this way while keeping in mind that your feelings, your reaction to the work and the work itself are separate entities. 

I’d remain open to the possibility that you have a legitimate gripe here. If you personally can’t enjoy a work either because a subjective factor or an objective flaw that’s a dealbreaker for you, you shouldn’t force yourself to like it because your friends do or because it didn’t do anything “unforgiveable”. Deciding that it’s not your cup of tea needn’t be a moral judgement on everyone who made the work or everyone who likes it. 

On the other hand you might find it easier to enjoy it if you acknowledge the flaw and put it into definite words, tell your inner critic that you heard them and then continue. If you try not to think about something you automatically end up thinking about it. 

b) Keep in mind that there are many valid stories and that all of them are worth telling

A lot happens on this green earth. Consider the following cases:

A1: A small, lithe person is mistreated by a big strong one

A2: A small, lithe person mistreats a big strong one and pretends to be the victim appealing to their small ness

B1: An eccentric kid is labeled as disordered just for being eccentric and because the teachers don’t want to deal with her 

B2: A serious-minded kid has an actual anxiety disorder and experiences stigma because of it and people not understanding that it’s real and debilitating

C1: There is a socially awkward, nerdy character. She is eventually revealed as autistic and her friends accept her just as she is. 

C2: There is a socially awkward, nerdy character. She comes out as aroace and all her friends support her. It is emphasized that she is actually as affectionate as everyone else and preconceptions to the contrary were just bigoted misunderstandings. 

C3: There is a socially awkward, nerdy character.  She finds a significant other who loves her even though she is socially awkward, and her love leads her to discover more communicative passionate sides to her personality. 

Clearly, for each of these scenarios, there are going to be people who relate to some but not to others. If you’ve got an anxiety disorder you’re going to relate to the story with the anxiety disorder, and if you were mis-labeled by incompetent teachers you’re gonna relate to that. But both actually happen in real life. B1 is me B2 is one of my sisters. You might even say they’re caused by some of the same intolerant attitudes. 

So ask yourself:  Is any of these intended as a “fuck you” to the people who would rather have the other ones? If in one particular story the character was mistakenly labeled by incompetent teachers and never had a real disorder, it it saying that no one has real disorders? If the small and lithe character turns out to be the victim, does it mean that big and strong characters are never victims? No of course not. 

 - You can criticize it if the story outright makes such statements and it is vital to do so (see next paragraph), but if the point in the story is just that this particular character was wrongly labeled, or this particular small character was the victim, then it’s simply telling a different story, not at all making a point about whether real disorders or big strong victims exist. 

What’s cathartic or empowering or meaningful to people is as different as people themselves. There’s a good chance that there won’t be an exact match between you or any given authors. 

Often the problem is not the stories that are there, but the ones that are missing. It’s not per se bad to have “girl gets rescued by prince” stories, it’s only bad if they’re the ONLY stories. The solution is more stories. 

Obviously there are exceptions to that like stuff that outright includes negative stereotypes or unquestioned bad behavior treated as good, 

c) Focus on constructivity and context instead of loaded labels

The above was more about perceived flaws this one is about real indisputable flaws. Flaws that are important to point out.

The number one goal here, if you really care about stopping harm and not anyones egos,  should be to get people to stop doing it. 

Sometimes in extreme cases making someone out to be a bad person and warning of them is exactly how you stop harm, but often time its not and getting obsessed with “punishing bad people” while losing sight of “preventing harm” does zero to help the people actually being harmed. Or worse than zero, if you associate a worthy cause with frivolous squabbles. 

Some people just don’t care and will never change their ways but you won’t ever convince those. You need to convince everyone else. All the ones who are maybe just ignorant and didn’t know better, or never had to form an opinion about this. Even if the maker themselves won’t change opinion, you can sway those. 

Imagine a bigoted religious person. how are you more likely to convince them? Get them to stop being religious, which is probably a part of their identity? Or try and argue that equality is, in fact, compatible with their religion? If you step on people’s egoes they will be attacked and block/dismiss all you have to say. Not only will they not change, they’ll dig in their heels. In the worst case, they’ll now start thinking that your Reasonable Position is incompatible with their identity. 

Again some people are determined to have their egoes stepped on and will be insulted no matter what, but those are not the target. 

This isn’t about appeasing assholes, it’s about creating change, because that will stop harm. So instead of throwing negatively changed emotional labels at people (which activates the ego and the emotions) try talking about cause and effect and consequences, to talk to their reason. Explain how the consequences happen. 

For similar reasons, try to think of solutions. You don’t want to destroy the work, you want to make it a better work that more people can enjoy without being distracted by unnecessary flaws. 

Avoid: 

“X is a [negative label] who [buzzword] a [sympathy-drawing label]!!! Why are [entire social group that contains people you want to convince] like this?!”

Instead:

“I know that this was probably supposed to express [intention], but it comes off like [unfortunate implication] and given [harmful social tendency] it might have been better to do [alternate redendition] “

Example #1: “The intention in scenes like in the original Blade Runner, several James Bond Movies or in the Original Star Wards trilogy where the original male characters was probably that these protagonists being suave guys know that the girls really want them to screw/kiss them. The authors know this because they created the characters, but IRL you cannot actually read anyone’s mind and what often happens IRL is that person A proceeds without really making sure that the other person is comfortable, and then they freeze up in fear though they don’t want to have intercourse, and ends up horribly traumatized. There’s not enough general knowledge about the “freeze” part of “fight-flight or freeze”, or good consent education and it would be irresponsible to make this worse. 

All it would literally take to fix it is to have the girls explicitly show that they want to kiss/have sex.”

Example #2: “A lot of horror fiction slaps the names of real diagnosable conditions on what are basically violent monster villains. It’s only natural to wonder what’s going on in the minds of killers and monsters and try to want to contextualize this, but it is vital to keep in mind that there is currently a lot of stigma against people with mental ilnesses, and that depictions like this can make it worse and make it hard for actual real-life people to get jobs and housing. 

If you’re going to use the names of real-life diagnosable conditions you should be committed to researching them and writing the characters realistically while being mindful of the stigma and the social impact that wrong renditions would have and not make a freakshow out of it. 

Alternatively, if you just want to do an unrealistic horror movie killer, don’t use the names of real conditions that real people have.”

d) Refresh Button. 

Especially because you’re saying that this isn’t your default mode and that it feels like some recent thing that you don’t really want. 

- take a break, busy your mind with something else, give the subconscious time toprocess and old perceptions time to settle. Then come back to it. 

- Try sort of looking at it from a new perspective, to deconstruct it from the bottom. What dothing really mean? What are we really told about the characters and events? Try processing it all new from the ground up without “common widom” 

- Things that aren’t explained on screen aren’t necessarily plot holes. There’s a difference between a contradiction, something that can’t fit together, and something that can fit together you just don’t know how. Deduce. Speculate. This is where your logic and imagination come in. 

- Maybe watch a new person react to it for all new input like a reaction vid on youtube

e) Outside Data. 

Same as above - People are basically really sophisticated Boltzmann machines/ statistical learning algorithms. I#m the least to want to admit that but to a degree we’re all influenced by the Data we take in. 

If you’re surrounded by a lot of material and soucres that pick apart every little thing in media, it’s natural that it would arise as a thought. 

If you don’t really want that in your life, filter it out. 

I hope this was of some sort of use. But I stress again that I’m no kind of authority on any such things and that many others might pick this apart as blasphemy. 

[rox-the-proxy]

In you, I found Recovery. By you I found Sanctuary

A result of wanting to give writing Riku a shot. Not sure it came out that great but hey! It exists now. So enjoy!

When he found his body while roaming in the realm of Darkness with Terra and king Mickey, Riku had no idea what to think. He didn't even know how to react. So he by nature called the over two over, upon seeing the state he seemed to be in, it had been the King to suggest they take him back. Terra had been hesitant at first, so had Riku. However there was something about this situation that warranted them to take him back. So they did and when they arrive back at Mysterious Tower with the other Guardians of Light minus Sora who was still missing; it had been Aqua to instantly know what was wrong with the unresponsive raven haired male.

His heart wasn't there. It wasn't in the body, much like Ventus had been. Vanitas it seemed after losing a second time to Ventus, had faded away but his body had some how survived and his heart, well, that was anyone's guess. At first they believed maybe it had faded away, but that wouldn't be the case if his body was left behind. So clearly there was something more to this. Or so Riku believed, Aqua had also been the first one to say to leave him be, to not bother searching for the boy's missing heart. After all, he had made his decision to remain sided with the seekers of Darkness. He pushed away the opportunity to side with them. And in her eyes, there was no forgiving what he had done.

Riku knew she was in her own right. She didn't have to forgive him, she wasn't obligated to. Everything Vanitas had done to them back then warranted nothing but hate, but Riku also knew that part of the other Keyblade Master wanted to help the raven. She had seen what this slumber did to Ventus. It took a long time for him to get back onto a regular sleeping pattern and his fear of sleeping ran deep. Riku also knew how scary it was to be trapped somewhere all alone with seemingly no way to get out to get back home. Wherever Vanitas' heart was, he was probably scared. Either way, with no actual idea as to where his fractured, broken heart was, the best they could do was keep watch over his body.

That's when the dreams started. At first Riku would wake up in the dead of night in a cold sweat. He couldn't recall what had startled him to wake up in such a manner. The first two times it happened, he didn't pay to much mind to it. Hell even the third time he paid no mind to it. It was the many times afterwards that he decided to start writing down what he could remember from those dreams. At first it was hazy, he couldn't remember anything. From there he started to recall faintly hearing something- someone. That's when the fear started, he could start to feel emotions that were not his own, fears, pain, sorrow, anger and so many other emotions that just weren't logical for him to feel. Then, he started seeing someone, someone sitting on the ground with their knees pulled to their chest, or laying curled up on the ground. The emotions were coming from them, and Riku could never reach them before he found himself waking up.

He never once spoke a word about this to the others.

The more he remembered, the more he was actually able to write down. By the third week of these dreams happening he could finally see who that someone was. And when he finally saw and heard them, he found himself again waking up in a cold sweat, shocked and feeling lost.

How did Vanitas' Heart end up in his own?

Again, he didn't dare speak a word to this to anyone else. Not yet anyway. After that day, Riku made it a sort of.... personal mission to try and talk to the other boy. At first it was difficult, Vanitas would lash out, spitting our hard words and even going as far as trying to attack him. Promising him that once the chance was given he'd take over this body and take back what was rightfully his. Those days Riku wouldn't sleep. As time passed, Vanitas mellowed out, yes he would still hiss out hard words and attack him, but his threats of taking over his body had lessen and became empty. Little by little, Riku was able to remember more and more about his encounters with the raven. Until finally, he could remember every last detail. When he was finally able to sit next to the other boy and have a conversation with him, that's when he finally was able to ask;

"How did you get here?"

"I wish I knew."

Those words shocked the silver haired male to his core. Vanitas had no idea how he ended up here and didn't seem like he even wanted to be. On some days, he would find the raven curled on his side, choking on a tar like substance that seemed to spill from his mouth. Other days he would find him asleep, resting even if it was clear it wasn't a peaceful sleep. On good days, he would find Vanitas laying in his back, eyes closed in content as he waited patiently for Riku ro arrive once he fell into sleep. Riku liked these days the best. It was on these days he got to see a more or less playful side of Vanitas that reminded him so much of Sora. On those days, they would have friendly spars that would usually end up with Vanitas sitting on him with a proud grin, or Riku pinning him down and allowing his fingers to dance up and down Vanitas' sides as loud bouts of laughter and giggles escaped him.

Then there were his bad days, the days were Riku would show up, and Vanitas would want nothing to do with him. Where the golden eyed male would screen and shout that he was just some tool, the days where he would say he wasn't Sora that he wasn't some replacement. On those days he said the most foul and harsh things about himself that when Riku would wake up, he could practically feel his own eyes sting with the tears and the pain that Vanitas was more then likely feeling. On those days, Riku would skip out on training with the other Guardians Of Light and spend it on Destiny Islands. These days usually didn't last very long, Riku would never blame Vanitas for his out bursts of anger. The raven would show remorse for his words, for his actions. On the nights he would go see the raven after those episodes he was met with the sight him hugging his knees to his chest, trying to make himself look as small as possible.

"He did something to me...when he brought me back. I-i don't know what he did, but he did something to me and now I'm like this."

Riku thought so as well. Vanitas didn't seem like he would follow Xehanort's orders a second time, not after the first time. He was a wild card, a spirit that couldn't be tamed by someone like that old coot. Whatever that man had done, it threw all of Vanitas' already unstable being off whatever Balance he had managed to get. And whatever he had done, it was causing this instability of his emotions. And it scared Vanitas to his very core.

"I can't....I can't return to my body like this. I'd do more harm then good. I-i can't. They already want me dead. If I go back-"

"I'll protect you."

He wasn't sure what made him say that- no, that was a lie, he knew exactly why he said. Vanitas was strong, he didn't exactly need Riku to protect him, but he would need help, he would still need time to recover. It was just a matter of convincing the golden eyed boy to go back to his body. As of now, his heart was still damaged and badly. Riku could feel it, he could see it I the way Vanitas acted and carried himself. But he couldn't force him to go back either, not if he felt he wasn't ready.

"But...I don't deserve it."

Those words hurt a lot more then what Riku haf expected. The look on Vanitas' face only made the pain dig itself deeper. Vanitas truly believed that he didn't deserve a third chance at life, that he didn't deserve to be looked after and protected. He had said so himself many times before, but it never hurt like it did now. Maybe it was because a few weeks ago he wasn't as close to Vanitas as he was now, or maybe because he understood what it was like to feel as if there was no atoning for what he had done in the past. Either way, Riku found himself embracing the other boy tightly.

"Yes you do. It wasn't your fault you spent your life alone with Xehanort. You can make up for what you've done, just...take the leap. I'll be there to catch you."

He didn't think those words would affect Vanitas as much as it had. Soon Riku found himself being embraced back just as tightly, he could feel the tremors coming from the smaller male. The way Vanitas was clinging to him was as if he was afraid he would disappear and never return. He could feel tears soaking his shoulder, Riku couldn't help but smile as he rubbed the other's back. The next set of words that followed had him both excited and nervous.

"I want to go back."

The following morning was the first time Riku ever spoke to the others about the past two months and Vanitas' heart in his own. Aqua hadn't been pleased to hear where Vanitas was and wasn't happy that Riku hadn't told them right away. Ventus seemed relived that Vanitas hadn't completely faded away. Lea was indifferent, and Riku couldn't blame him, Kairi seemed... hesitant about voicing an opinion, but eventually she seemed to be willing to go along witj whatever plan Riku had. The others, though unsure also agreed. For hours they spent getting things ready, from Land Of Departure they took his body and traveled to Radiant Garden. The process of extracting Vanitas' heart wasn't anything spectacular like he had first believed.

But when his heart finally returned to his own body, Vanitas' eyes had sprung open before he was desperately gasping for air. It was like chaos erupted in the room when he rolled off the bed and was throwing up that tar like substance, wounds that Riku knew he didn't have back in his heart whenever he saw him were now open and seeping that same substance. Unversed tried to form only to melt back into his body or only to have Vanitas himself force them back down. Aqua had looked ready to strike the raven down, and would have had Riku not rushed to his side and pushed his dark colored locks away from his face.

"That's it, just let it out, don't fight it. I'm here now."

That night anyone could cut the tension in the air like it was a stick of butter. It was thick it lead to many of them deciding to retire to their rooms early for the evening. Riku soon found himself sitting by his bed, watching the slow rise and fall of Vanitas' chest as he slept. For once he looked peaceful. The following days, it took a lot of patience to handle the golden eyed male, from his random bouts of feeling sick, to then moments he seemed to lose control of his Unversed. Many times Aqua had made it clear she would strike him down if Ventus got hurt by one of the many creatures of Darkness Vanitas created. On those days, Riku kept himself and Vanitas up in his room.

It took about another Month for Vanitas to more or less regain some sort of stability that allowed him to sit outside and watch the others train. He was weary around the Guardians, wouldn't actively seeking out to start any sort of conversation with them. The one time he did it had been with Kairi and Ventus, and that encounter lead to him nearly attacking Kairi bas she had accidentally called him Sora. Something she hadn't meant to do, but did anyway. Riku had been shocked when it was Ventus to talked down his darker half. Kairi had apologized, and so did Vanitas, but he didn't try to start conversations with her again after that.

"In you, I found recovery. My heart had been so shattered and broken after Ventus and Sora had defeated me again. I truly believed that would be the end, I wouldn't be suffering anymore and I wouldn't be used for the sake of other people's desires." Vanitas spoke that night while he laid curled up against his side, head resting on his shoulder with Riku's arm resting over his waist. His fingers drawing random patterns on his lower back. "But then I woke up in your heart. I don't know how I ended up there and it took a long time for you to notice I was even there. But the darkness in you helped my heart heal at least enough to maintain itself again."

Riku smiled a bit at his words, he watched as Vanitas placed his hand over his heart. Vanitas seemed to be mulling over what words he wanted to say next, Riku said nothing. He knew that if he did, Vanitas would just lose his training thought and come up with something else. So he waited patiently, continuing to draw those random patterns on the other boy's lower back. He lowered his head, nuzzling his face against the dark colored locks.

"By you, I found Sanctuary. There was never such a thing as a safe place for me. Not because I had people after me, no. Never that. I was my own worst enemy, I was a threat to myself. I would be the cause of the my own downfall. Even in your heart I was a risk to myself more then I was a risk to you or anyone else," Vanitas sighed, closing his eyes as he pressed the palm of his hand over Riku's heart, his eyes closing. He didn't look troubled, he didn't feel sick or upset. He felt...at peace, safe, warm and content. "That's different now, because by you it's like a safe Haven. It's not....perfect. but it's my piece of sanctuary."

Smiling fondly, Riku moved his arm so his hand was now resting over Vanitas' smaller hand. They both stayed like that, silent and content. Riku only moved to press soft kisses to the top of the other male's head or to his face. The words didn't need to be spoken, because Riku knew, he could feel exactly what Vanitas wanted to say just by the simple action of placing a kiss to where his hand was resting.

"Thank you."

[rahasiateknosblog]

Board Games - Introducing New Games to Your Gaming Group

You've gone through the method of getting some friends together and you want to introduce them to a fresh game. The good thing is that they are not looking for you as a master of the new game. They really would like helpful tips to obtain them past the rules and get to the gaming goodness - the reason they came to the function to start with.

Be Acquainted with Your Games What's the worst thing you can do with a fresh game? Read the principles in front of your gaming group. Several of those games have Rule Guides of over 35 pages. It is not practical to read that as you go. Chances are you won't have anyone at your following gaming event if this is one way you plan to handle it.

The important section of this process is not complete mastery. It is maintaining control good enough for everyone to obtain the hang of the game themselves. What friends and family want from the specific situation is to play the game with the right set of rules.

They want to know: How do they win? What do I actually do when it's my turn? How do I connect to others? They're the points you will need to cover at the beginning, so they understand where most of the explanation is leading. In the event that you forget certain rules, it is alright to incorporate them later. You're goal listed here is to obtain past the basic explanation so everybody can take pleasure in the game. You lose control of the specific situation and your friends' attention when you go to look up a couple of rules in the rule book.

Set Up the Game Before You Start That is certainly one of the most crucial steps you can try boost your success in teaching new people a game. Good speakers use props to boost their presentations. You don't need PowerPoint with this, but having the game as a guide is a superb tool.

This allows for just two things. You should use the game bits and cards to describe points. People can enjoy the game immediately after you're done.

Introduce the Goal Every game features a goal. Some are simple goals, like "If you have the absolute most points by turn 10, you win" ;.Other games have more complex, and really don't make sense until you review the principles of the game. Be sure you explain these goals at the start and be sure you repeat them often.

Whatever the goal, people like to learn what they have to accomplish. It's this that drags them through the method of hearing the rules. With the "end" at heart, they are able to complete and understand the "means" ;. In the event that you don't try this, your audience will constantly be wondering "so how exactly does this help me win?" That is distracting to the learner and you want to eliminate it. In the event that you can't explain it well at the beginning, let them have keywords or something to latch rahasiatekno onto, so they understand it when it shows up. "You may even just say something such as "victory points are good, knights are good, cities and roads are good, or keeping all your resources is bad".

Three is really a Magic Number People like to learn things in sets of three. There is a rhythm and flow to issues that can be found in a couple of three. Many games have choices to present - do it in sets of three when possible. As an example, you can gather a resource, attack your neighbor, or choose an "opportunity" card.

Some games allow it to be complicated - you receive three things to accomplish on your own turn and every one of those things offers several options. The simplest way to describe that is "On your turn, you are going to do X, Y, and Z. For you yourself to accomplish X, you have three choices. They are 1, 2, or 3. Let's go over 1 first" ;. Don't force this concept where it doesn't exist, though. That just leads to confusion. You will look for patterns in the principles, though. Sometimes you will find team decisions, defensive decisions, or offensive actions you can take. You are able to divide your descriptions into these categories in the event that you wanted to.

Wash, Rinse, and REPEAT! When you are explaining the game, it is beneficial to your audience in the event that you repeat certain things, like how exactly to win the game. Also, it is nice to do this if you are dealing with a set of choices. How do you try this?

Let's go back to the X, Y, and Z example from earlier. You are referring to the first action you should do on your own turn, action X. You need to describe choice 1, 2, and 3. If you are done, you say something such as "OK, that's the first part of one's turn. That was X. Now, let's have a look at Y." While doing this, rephrase the principles you simply offered, as opposed to repeating them again exactly the same way. This can help some of one's group "get it" if they'd not already.

Introducing Game Terms Lots of games have common things, but they go by different names. Make these associations for your group and then introduce them to the right terms for the game you want to teach them. An example of this kind of item is money. If you may get away without using the game jargon, that will help your group grasp concepts better. As an example, if you are introducing Settlers of Catan, there is no profit the game. But, you will find resources. You are able to equate these to money and discuss how you get things with combinations of money, or "resources" ;.This allows you to add your personal flair to the instruction and bring people into the game quicker.

Keep in touch with Me Teaching new gamers a game must be a discussion, not really a boring lecture. People want to have fun, not watch you provide a fancy presentation. Watch to ensure that your fellow gamers are receiving what you say and don't forget to go back and reiterate something you already mentioned - even though you need certainly to revisit a concept several times.

Don't single out people which are having trouble grasping the rules. Among the worst things you can do is set them up to look slow. They won't desire to ask questions after that. It is also possible that they may not return for another gaming session.

This one was a success. It Can Be A Rewarding Experience Introducing friends and family to a fresh game could be a very rewarding experience and an effective way to truly get your games on the table and into rotation with your game group. Like any skill, practice makes perfect. Also, don't lose out on lots of the learning tools available online. You'll find quick-start guides, visual aids, and other suggestions on the websites like

One Last Suggestion There is a practice at the country western clubs that truly can be useful for you in your gaming group. About an hour ahead of the club starts hopping, the DJ opens the dance floor and teaches people how to accomplish lots of the line dances they will see through the night. Obviously, you won't be line dancing at your gaming party (are you?) however the lesson is solid. Announce the games you is going to be playing ahead of the event. If someone is new compared to that game, allow them to come early for an introduction to those games. This way, you don't need certainly to occupy game time with a rules introduction. Also, it allows fellow gamers to try to introduce games in a non-threatening environment.