#like not only is that the case for a lot of Deaf people in reality but also

[sadisthetic]

BURST💥

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 21

satoru gojo x f!reader x suguru geto

plot: moving to the city from a small town was no easy feat, especially to start teaching as a jujutsu sorcerer.

summary: everyday was exactly the same but then satoru dropped a heavy truth onto you.

trigger warning: noncon in this chapter, approach with caution, it’s quite bleak. disclaimer, i don’t support these behaviours irl.

masterlist • ao3 • chapter directory • < previous chapter • next chapter >

21. Purgatory

Ignoring Satoru for a beat, you thought about where it all went wrong for you to have ended up in a place like this.

It was hard to imagine let alone comprehend due to the absurdity of the situation. As far as you understood, you were securely tucked away in a small pocket of space underground deep within the Gojo clan estate. Far from the prying glimpses of the residents who roamed the surface, with only passing flickers into the above stolen whenever he made his way down.

You didn’t know all that much about the estate he snuck you into, but given Satoru’s influence and power, you calculated that your chances of escape were slim.

Satoru very likely had you lodged somewhere within the confines of his personal chambers as a result; perhaps it was a space that had been custom-tailored to include a secure underground space for your impending arrival. Maybe those who worked on such a spot had just assumed that he wanted privacy in case people came looking for him, or at least, that’s where your mind drifted to when considering the location. Wherever you were, this place was a secret. You knew that much, especially evidenced so by your fits of desperation manifested as endless wails and screams and begging only for the cries to fall onto deaf ears (if any at all).

Such consideration of your circumstances however left you in a recurring grave predicament.

If you were perfectly contained in a place that nobody else knew about, then your initial fears were surely correct.

You were done for.

You glanced up at Satoru who had your head idly resting on his lap, talking about the traffic on the way back home. You tuned in and out of his words selectively, only picking up on the details you deemed to be important. He often drawled on about the little things, playing pretend with you as the doting lover, so ready to sit back and listen to his words that held onto a darker charged meaning. Maybe he knew that you weren’t truly listening, maybe also, he just didn’t care. Delusion was a powerful motivator, after all.

You considered the possibility of escape again.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, it was just… that the odds were highly against you. The only way out was up and try as you might, you never once breached even a crack. The basement was impenetrable and your chances, as long as Satoru was around, were unfortunately slim. Besides, had there been such a route way out, then you would have known by now. You searched for it countless times, at least. Whatever work he put into the basement, whoever he had paid to design the damn thing had ensured to seal off every single exit, with the only way out seeming to be from the above.

So yes, to think that this was your reality was a devastating thought and you could never accept it. You could acknowledge it, sure, but you couldn’t accept it. You refused to and yet, he was always there for you when you didn’t want him to be, ready to not quite poison you as Suguru did, but latch onto the whittled-down aftermath of your broken-down psyche, holding onto whatever remained.

“It’s better this way for us both,” Satoru continued to say, combing his fingers through your hair, “you’ll learn to accept all of this one day.”

You closed your eyes briefly if only to imagine what the sky must have looked like; what the air must have felt like, what the warmth of the sun was like—you missed the outside a lot, strangely enough—you were always more indoorsy but now the opportunity was simply just stolen, with no such chance to even try.

Oh, how you missed the side of Satoru that you got to know before he turned… into this.

You’ve had time to process your anger, so it wasn’t like you could become any more resentful than you already were, but the time that had passed, the stagnant resolve of it all—left you depleted and depressed, making you lose your appetite for all things worthy of living. Of eating, of drinking, of moving and simply just… surviving. Living had become a chore and you were alive only out of necessity. It was to the point where you truly had come to believe that being dead must have been more exciting rather than remaining locked in a slowly aging purgatory like this.

And, due to all of the days blurring seamlessly together otherwise, your only break from the monotonous flow, was when you both had the chance to exist together. So all of those silent protests you took when you refused to move from the spot, when you refused to eat, or when you laid awake as he slept and the like—none of it ever had an impact, nor ever mattered at all—not when he continued to touch you the way that he did.

It wasn’t the fact that he repeated it that was the grounding part either, but rather that instead of shutting down all displays of hope, rather than immediately silencing all forms of attempted protest, he would simply… let the situation build. He would the tension rise and would simply just ignore, ignore, ignore. The delusional resolve would push through and it was back to you being simply just ‘stir-crazy’ as he put it, often joking (albeit not promising) to take you out, if even just for a bit when he later had some time spare and whenever you thought that just once, that there could be a break from the usual, you were always wrong. Satoru was dedicated to his schedule, towards his nightly habits; it was just different how he did it every time. Sometimes he would talk before and sometimes he would talk after, but he would always get with you. Always.

There was never a break and truth be told, you were going insane.

It felt surely insulting too, to listen to him prattle on and on about his job that was supposed to be your job, too.

Satoru, after all, like you were supposed to be, was a Jujutsu teacher and he seemed to be good at his job, which was such a difficult thing to grasp. He loved to tell you all about what was happening on a day-to-day basis, often with your head resting just above his knees or against his shoulder while his hands roamed around your body, no matter how much you resisted.

“Come on, [name],” he predictably said, sitting up as he pushed you back up to his level with his eyes pointed at the breakfast table (or that’s what he called it), “you need to eat to live, you know.”

You gulped dryly, watching as he rummaged through the bag he brought back with him, taking out something from way down at the bottom. Takeaway? Your memories recognised it as the very same type from the first time you had split that exact meal with him, Shoko, and Suguru. Your mind raced back to when he did something nice for you and made you feel included as a result, so you wondered what significance there was for today to be a reminder of such memories—or if there was any such resemblance at all—it wasn’t that likely that you were overthinking, especially given how limited your circumstances were.

“You have to take better care of yourself, you know,” he added, nudging forward a plastic container of food towards you, the food being exactly what you tried back then. There had to be something behind this action, surely. You weren’t reaching.

This wasn’t just a usual meal; he was planning something—but what?

“I can’t have you completely wasting away,” he added, reducing his voice to a concerned murmur as he propped the lid off, sliding the chopsticks across to where you sat, “not when we have so much time left together.”

You blinked at the meal and then glanced up at him, wondering what exactly he was planning on pulling. With a weary tone, you cleared your throat before bringing it up, “I’ll eat, but… what are you doing?”

Satoru, being as stubborn as he was, didn’t reply to you right away. He simply watched for you to get started, his intentions unwavering and pushed without pause; he would have you do as he wanted before informing you of anything at all, no matter what it was. Perhaps this was why you both collided so often; you were both equally stubborn against one another but for different reasons. He could maintain his gradually crumbling facade for as long as he claimed able to do so, but the surface he hid under was visibly cracked and it was obvious that, he too, was struggling. You’ve had plenty of time to learn how to read him, and his barely-contained impatience was far from subtle.

All of those smiles he would crack to convey a casual display of ease only to be clenched away by the grinding of his jaw or his fist squeezing as he struggled to hold onto the slipping semblance of control that drifted in and out of his reach. The way he would talk in strained bursts of barely contained anger, going as far as convulsing from the stress that dared to boil away from the stress bubbling within. His life wasn’t easy, that much you could emphasise, but he wasn’t being fair to you when you now had to take on the role of someone who unconditionally supported these parted bursts of lapsing sanity.

Sometimes, he would succumb to these moments of turmoil, letting out punches of barking laughter—something that unsettled you and at other times, he would break himself on purpose and cling to you, just because.

Satoru Gojo may have been the strongest, but you often got to see him at his weakest, so perhaps that’s why he had to hold onto you as tightly as he did.

“Eat,” he repeated, tearing you away from your troubling thoughts and replacing it with something even colder, the mask slipping back on. Satoru was seldom violent, rather more so just… forceful. Thankfully he had never raised a hand at you, even when you bit and kicked and clawed away at him, but his restraint seemed worse than usual today—as if he was at last, finally just as worn down as you were.

This was his own fault though, you thought. You wanted to tell him that lovers, particularly spouses or whatever he was forcing you to take on the role as, didn’t keep their feelings bottled up and locked away from each other. That much you did learn from Suguru, who at least told you the importance of learning to communicate, because sometimes, that was the only thing that could work when nothing else did.

How… peculiar was it that you learned something useful from him?

You sighed as you plucked the to-go chopsticks apart from one another, fitting them into your hand and digging into what he had gotten you. You ate slowly with your eyes flicking on and off at him, who watched you with unsettling focus.

“Good,” he clapped his hands together once, seemingly soothed by the sight, “I’m glad you are still capable of listening to me, because like I said, I’d hate for you to grow unhealthy down here. I can’t have you become sick.”

You nodded wearily, biting back the urge to tell him that you would be healthier if he at least you have even fifteen minutes of outside air a day, knowing that suddenly his careful demeanour would drop and you would be the hypochondriac instead.

Satoru led you back to the sofa when you were both done, helping you settle back against his shoulder. He offered you those crisps that you once, in passing, mentioned you liked, but you didn’t reciprocate his offer. Something was off about how much he was giving you—with how much he was paying attention to you—it was beyond the usual level of care, so you wondered what actually must have happened on the surface.

You didn’t get a fresh flow of news from him, anyway. He was selective with what he disclosed to you and you weren’t too trusting of the information he did reveal on the occasion that he did. Shoko? Suguru? Utahime? He would hold their names hostage to you, taunting you with the occasional slip of a promise that they weren’t completely lost from your life. He knew that you still cared about them, even the one who had hurt you, not quite understanding why didn’t say his own name with the same sort of chime, despite the pain that he inflicted upon you, in his mind, being equal.

He bit his tongue, refusing to find out why.

Instead, it was easier for him to punish you for having feelings that you couldn’t control.

For not making sense, for not existing in the same way that he built you up to be in his head.

“You’d like to see them all again, I’d bet,” he repeated, having already said something similar before tonight.

“Huh?” you blinked, barely catching on that he was addressing you directly that time.

“I said…” Satoru repeated himself, letting the reminder of his words hang in the air before continuing, “That you’d probably like to see them all again, huh? If you behave, that is.”

You sighed again, swallowing away the resentment once more. What even was ‘good behaviour’ anymore, anyway?

“If I behave…?” you half-scoffed, unable to resist a jab at his words, not caring for formalities anymore (yet another habit picked up from Suguru, maybe also Shoko, too), “maybe if you didn’t keep me locked up.”

“You—“ Satoru began before cutting himself short, prompting you to narrow your eyes at his barely contained composure, “—you don’t get it, you… you don’t understand,” he strained, laughing somewhat at what he believed to be a naive response on your end, “I had to do this for your own good, you’re safe down here, don’t you get that?” he asked, seeming to hint at something new, something that he hadn’t yet shared. “You think that I didn’t notice that little stunt that you and Su… that you both, pulled?”

“What are you talking about?” you sighed, trying to sink back into the sofa, finding that he didn’t let you.

Satoru snorted again, sounding amused, “That little stunt of yours back at your hometown,” he replied, keeping his voice eerily calm as he tucked a strand behind your ear, “did you really think you could continue to walk free after murdering a civilian? Even as a witness… you’d be an accomplice, an accessory to a crime,” he hinted, likely referencing Yui.

Remaining sceptical, you glanced up at him briefly before back at the wall. “So you know?” you asked him in an unsurprised tone. “Why bring it up now, though?”

Satoru scoffed before continuing again, “Because, you keep thinking that you have a right to a way out when all I’m doing is keeping you safe from the higher-ups,” he said, relaxing his voice for some reason, “they can be quite harsh, you know. I’m keeping you safe down here along with your little secret. Wouldn’t want that to get out, now would you?”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you replied instead, “it’s been months since you brought me down here.”

He sighed, realising your point. For a moment, he relaxed but then his features creased into something serious again, as though having a revelation of some sort. “Because, I’ve been keeping something from you, to protect you even further.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, taking the bait.

“…Why do you think he did that for you?” he asked.

“Suguru?” you asked, watching something else glint in his icy blue eyes when you spoke out his friend’s name the way that you did. “He was helping me bury the past, or something like that.”

Satoru clicked his tongue and sucked at his teeth before leaning back, letting you readjust to him or not as you preferred. He unwrapped the bandages around his eyes, tossing them off to the side. “I thought as much too, but then I did some digging. I couldn’t let my once-good friend just commit something so rash without at least trying to understanding why, you know?” he asked you, building up to some sort of unspoken truth. “He used you, [name]. He used you to justify his own issues, because if he actually did so to help you, then he would have stopped at Yui.”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

Satoru let the silence between you build for a moment, letting the implications fester and rise. He brought you down to lay on his lap again with one hand holding rather firmly over your shoulder and the other against your skull. He then took a deep breath, as though he was about to share something heavy with you. “Yui wasn’t… the only casualty, [name]. He took care of your parents, too.”

“Say that again?” you asked, feeling your eyelids flutter as you couldn’t quite process what was said.

“Not long after,” Satoru continued after about half a minute of stagnant silence, “he did the same to his own parents, too. I suppose we should have all seen the signs, especially given what his attitude was like towards non-sorcerers, convincing himself that they were all part of a deeper issue, but…”

You tried to sit up again, finding that the position he kept you anchored down in was impossible to get out of. You wanted answers, but he kept continuing with more and more new information, not letting you process anything at all.

“Wait, though…” you struggled, “what did you say before?” you pressed again, still not having processed the first part of his claim.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Satoru continued instead, smoothing your hair with his palm in a soft, affectionate gesture, “but you still seem to holding onto something that shouldn’t be there with… him, when all he did was just use you to further his own selfish ideology. Don’t you get it, [name]? I’m just looking out for you down here, I’m keeping you safe. So why not… just…have a little trust in me?”

You stared straight ahead, feeling many things all at once. The words finally settled into your mind, not quite believing the extent of what he had claimed, and yet, accepting his words with violent clarity. He was your only source of what went on beyond the surface, after all, so your weakened state of mind accepted his words as truth, even if deep down, refused to believe it. You felt angry, upset, confused, and numb all at once—yet, Satoru still dared to ask for your trust—after everything that had transpired over the summer, after keeping you in the dark both literally and figuratively, he claimed to still be doing this for you.

You shuddered a breath down, letting your tears spill over his clothes. You didn’t argue with him, knowing that whatever he revealed wouldn’t change a thing. Deep down, you wanted to believe that Suguru wouldn’t go that far, but then you remembered the look in his eyes when he regarded Yui being the very same as when he met with your parents—so maybe, just maybe, Satoru’s claims weren’t too far from the truth.

Maybe he did do the unthinkable.

“But, this can’t last forever,” you finally whispered.

Satoru seemed to relax again, his voice growing calm once more, “You underestimate me,” he said, repositioning you once more so that you now laid your back over the sofa, the inevitable finally taking place.

You locked up as he inched towards you again like clockwork, hovering over your body in a way that was almost longing, caging you in between his arms as though you had somewhere to run off to. You blinked up at him, wondering just how he could be in the mood at a time like this, after such casual admission of a grave confession, that his friend, your former lover, abuser, whatever, had inflicted something potentially devastating as the right time to continue with touching you.

“Not today,” you tried to mumble out, unable to focus.

Satoru ignored you, leaning forward instead. His lips ghosted over your neck as he pressed coaxing little damp kisses along your collarbone, his voice growing low and heavy as he took advantage of your disoriented state, having you right where he wanted you.

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” he murmured, pushing his knee in between your legs so that you couldn’t close off his advances, “you don’t have to do anything,” he continued, “just let me take care of everything—of you—I’ll make sure you feel good, too.”

You sighed, feeling exhausted. Maybe he would let you drift off, or maybe if you zoned out with enough focus, you could quicker go back to blurring all of the days together again.

Satoru continued at usual, trying to ensure that the experience was as nice as he could make it (with all things considered), but otherwise repeating the staleness yet again. It was messed up, but you were bored of it—of him. You hated to admit it, that even right at this minute, you missed how Suguru… never mind, you couldn’t do this to yourself just yet. Not now. Instead, you gritted your teeth and screwed your eyes shut, pretending that you were somewhere else.

Satoru in the meantime moved down the sweatpants he had you wear, his hand fumbling to reach and pull at his own trousers. He was already hard; evidenced by his straining arousal that pitched against his underwear, tearing out from the second he let his clothes drop. He used to participate in foreplay, but since then grew lazier, which you supposed guiltily again, that Suguru at least never skipped. You grunted instead as Satoru pushed himself into your hilt, feeling the consequences of his impatience rub painfully within you.

“You’re so tight today, huh?” he commented, finding it difficult to push into you from your lack of arousal given the heavy moment. You struggled to take him in properly, feeling his girth stretch you out, but it was far from pleasant and likely not that nice for him either.

Pulling out of you briefly, Satoru spat down onto his tip, using his hand to rub the saliva and coat his shaft before driving himself back into you. He rocked his hips forward with strained fervour, keeping your knees pried far apart with his hands, wrangling them into all sorts of positions as he wrestled to keep your attention.

You winced as you felt him spear into you, feeling the entirety of his length kiss against what felt like your cervix, causing you to recoil in rhythmic pain. Ragged gasps rolled out of the slip of your tongue as you tried to keep up, finding that you couldn’t do so as fluidly with his gradually increasing momentum, finding that both the coiling pain, as well as his pressing tempo, left you sorely breathless.

Letting your legs fall, he hovered over you by keeping himself steady with his arms anchoring parallel over on the sofa cushioning. Satoru continued to rut his hips, sawing relentlessly into you as time went on, hoping for a better reaction but all that you could offer was strained whimpers and barely choked-out cries, growing frustrated at the result. A chorus of “come on, come on, come on,” could be heard in mumbled-out mutters, understanding that the only time he ever got a response from you was when he surrendered into being rougher than he was more comfortable with doing so.

Wanting desperately to feel wanted back, by the only person that he ever sought out with such intensity and then not hearing those pretty little sounds that he once heard coming from Suguru’s apartment was difficult for him. Such a recurring memory sent Satoru into a resentful stupor, almost, as he too, tried to replicate what he once heard, only for you to never give up in the same way.

His fingers clamped down against your hips, his fingernails bleeding scratched crescents into your soft skin as he grew closer to his release. At last, you whimpered, moaning in pain instead of pleasure, but it was enough to go on; enough to pretend with. His own words fell silent as he too, was brought to pain from pushing, kneading, straining himself into your cunt in a hurried attempt to de-stress, until finally—…

Satoru slowed down in a stuttered thrust, releasing at long last. He ground his hips into you with lazy, languid pumps before he slumped over you in an exhausted daze, feeling completely and utterly spent, barely pulling out of you.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he murmured into your neck, “but one day you’ll see and appreciate it,” he continued, just barely coherently muttering out words that blurred into one another, not quite making sense at all.

All the while you at long, long last, sighed. You were finally able to relax.

Another thing weighed heavily on your mind though.

Even with the heavy truth that Satoru dropped on you, you still found yourself missing… him.

Why?

(Was there something actually wrong with you, after all?)

[cupids-dove]

That's Not My Neighbor Head cannons I won't stop thinking about.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Arabella (oc):

Hopeless romantic

That one friend who's always dressed nicely even when having a breakdown

Would bail you out of jail

Easily flustered

Swears in french but says it in a sweet way, so people think she's complimenting them.

Can't pronounce "declaration"

Very insecure but acts like she's the best

Likes to be the dumb blonde because arguing with men is dumb

Dramatic queen

Marina and the Diamonds coded

Francis:

Runs off of coffee 24/7

Forgets to eat all the damn time

At some point he stopped giving a fuck about doppels

MAN CANNOT FLIRT TO SAVE HIS LIFE (it's okay bc he's unintentionally hot)

Terrible at English (grammar, etc)

Some days just talks in mumbles, and no one ever knows wtf he says

Punched a doppel without realizing it (he thought it was his coworker who wouldn't leave him tf alone-)

Milkshakes are a guilty pleasure

Got chased by a dog during a delivery, and now hates them

Basically, the batman of the building

Nacha:

Bicurious fr fr

A girl's girl

Type of woman to have pads/tampons/liners, etc, in case anyone needs one

Drops off food for Francis because she knows he forgets to eat

Honestly the best mom ever-

She's actually not very good at baking

Her relationship with Francis was: the opposite eyes where one is like happy and the other is tired-

Or like: grew up with a big family x grew up an only child

The one who actually suggested the divorce

Left handed

Has an odd fascination with pears

Anastacha:

She walked in on her parents once, and now whenever Nacha needs her, she has to go to Ana instead of Ana going to her.

Thinks it's cheesy her name is so similar to her mom's

Pretty close to both her parents

I think she'd really like The Addams Family

Good at math

Picked up saying "whatever" from upper classmen

Kinda hates the idea of romance

The type of person to just stare into your soul but in reality was zoning out (got that from her dad fr fr)

Likes picking flowers to bring to her mom after school

Steven:

Bad boy with a heart of gold

Looks like a fboy but this guy got no bitches

Kinda dumb most of the time, but gets serious when it comes to piloting

The cool uncle

Wear sunglasses even if he can't see shit

Insecure about his eyes

Definitely the type to try and fight a goose

He's an only child and wishes he had some younger siblings

Doesn't like to drink all that much

Definitely knows how to play guitar or some sort of instrument

Mclooy:

Most loyal man ever

His wife died before the doppelgangers, but once you get him talking about her he won't shut up

Taught Steven how to play guitar

Everytime he smokes he thinks of how his wife would nag him about it </3

A lot of the guys go to him for advice

I imagine he's got one of those warm hearty laughs

Was in the military for a bit

Worries about Steven everytime he goes out

Doesn't understand mental health, but does his best

Lois:

Sweetest old woman, you'll ever meet.

Carries candy on her all the time

Loves roses so much

Her and her husband are definitely grumpy x soft

Can be kind of an air head sometimes

Had a dog named Puffles when she was young

Has at least 3 kids who write her letters with pressed flowers, which she keeps

Never really liked pearls until Roman bought her a pearl necklace

She's a bit tone deaf

Roman:

Grumpiest man ever

Questions how he ever got with Lois

Knows how to play piano

Is very good with numbers

Hates he's balding but Lois reassures him all the time he's still handsome

Very uncoordinated man

Dislikes pomegranates for some reason

Loves his children very much and gives financial advice

Selenne:

More on the slim and regal side

Has begged Arabella for clothing advice

Loves matching with Elenois

Hates being separated from her sister

The friend who goes partying every night

Definitely the type to gossip with her sister

Cannot keep a secret to SAVE HER LIFE

Has the tendency to talk about topics she doesn't fully understand

Elenois:

Does Selenne's makeup because Selenne always begs her to

Definitely has accidentally called herself by her sister's name

Technically the older twin

Worries that she's not as pretty as her sister even though they look alike

A secret lesbian

Wears cherry chapstick

Hated yellow/orange at first and grew to really like it.

The type to scold you about doing something wrong, but in the process is giving you comfort items

If it wasn't for her sister encouraging her to join her in modeling. She probably would've been a sectary.

Mia:

Loves the color red WITH. A. PASSION.

Loves receiving apples too <3

Probably smells like apple blossoms too-

Very good at English

Teaches third graders

Wants to be a mother with lots and lots of kids

Her relationship with Dr. W. Afton is literally gorgeous wife x dork

Loves her silly fiance

Dyes he hair blonde

Dr. W. Afton:

Man is clueless

Also has no idea how he bagged such a beautiful woman

Loves how smart Mia is

Does questionable shit all the time

Has a thing for bunnies that doesn't feel entirely normal

Has been mistaken for a doppel by neighbors because sometimes he creeps them out

He gives me quiet kid

Definitely grew up with no siblings and extremely awkward around other women

Looks like he would freak out over a bug

Angus:

This man MOST DEFINITELY knows how to dance

He reminds me of Waluigi

He looks like he enjoys pineapple on pizza

A lady's man fr fr

Would treat you so well

A romantic

Smokes a lot, though, because work is hard

Drinks red wine

Has a fancy ass bathrobe that lowkey Slenne is jealous of

Izaack:

Chad

Peaked in highschool

Nosiest mf ever

He's somewhat sweet

Misogynist

Very good at his job

Likes Selenne and gives her all the gossip

Has flirted with all the women in the building at LEAST once (shoot ur shot ig)

He's most proud of his jaw line

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Author's note: Someone should lmk if I should do more :P also I might do something with Arabella more dive deeper into her- I'm just doing this for fun, for myself really because I was just gonna wrote most of these in my notes app. I doubt many people will read this so-

[giuliettagaltieri]

Just Kiss Her Already

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader

Synopsis: Craving for academic validation, you find an unexpected challenger who might have hurt your feelings, just a bit.

Word Count: 1724

Success came easy.

With your sharp wit, even sharper tongue, ambitions reaching the heavens and the drive to make them a reality, and of course your superficial charm that could bring people to their knees.

You are at the top of your game.  You will get that Latin honor you have been striving for since day one of starting at university.

If only it was not for him.

You will never come to understand him, you figured.

Eren Jaeger was the last person you expected to be your rival.

He was irresponsible, lazy, and basically a manifestation of all things negative.

A biased opinion coming from you, of course. 

He is well liked by the professors.  His provocative statements stimulate the class and challenges even your mind.

You hate to admit it, you refuse to admit it.

It also does not help that he is just so nice, you almost feel guilty for making him sound so horrible in the first place.

Your leg bounces as you listen to him give his constructive argument regarding the issue asked by the professor.

You had the same idea in mind, you were just too anxious to speak up earlier, not wanting to embarrass yourself by answering rashly and miss the point.

The professor grins at Eren and the soles of your feet run cold as he jokingly tells the class that you should try to see the agreement through Eren’s perspective as he claims it is one of the best ways to approach the issue at hand.

The disdain was clearly painted on your face and Eren had to suppress a chuckle.

“Does anybody want to add to Mr. Jaeger’s statement?”  Your professor asks, his old wrinkly hands in a clasp.

The entire class falls silent and you reconsider if you should just let Eren have this or-

“Yes, Y/N?”

Your hand is already up in the air before you could even think about backing out again.

“I do have something to say.  But I won’t be adding to Mr. Jaeger’s statement.”  You stand up and face your professor with your usual stone-cold expression.  “I’ll be contradicting it.”

Eren raises a brow, smirk slowly building on his lips.

“You see professor, Mr. Jaeger mentioned how death penalty could not only bring a sense of justice but will also deter crimes but can we really afford it?”

“As I mentioned, that is exactly why the Department of Justice should be challenged to not make justice a luxury that only the rich can afford.”  Eren rolls his eyes.

You turn to him fully.  “But before the suspect could be proved guilty and be subjected under death penalty, it would take lots and lots of trials and those aren’t exactly cheap, the government cannot give all their funds to every case.”

Eren scowls at you, as he mutters.  “Tell that to a little girl who has to suffer from AIDS after being abused.”

The bell ringing through the entire classroom goes unnoticed by you as you are left staring at Eren, wide-eyed and your throat completely dry.  You stand there until all of them has left.  Even the compliment from your professor for providing such objective and practical insights falls on deaf ears.

Eren’s words echo in your head and you bite your thumb as you stare at your computer screen but nothing goes through your head.

You shouldn’t have tried.

Hours passed but you still feel so humiliated, having him destroy your carefully built academic confidence so easily.

You rest your forehead on your palms.

He wasn’t even being impartial.  He was just being emotional.  You made a better point.

But the way he looked at you.  You never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.  Not from him or anyone.  It unnerved you.

You hated having to feel like this.  It feels suffocating.  You were not even defending the criminals!

If he just kept his mouth shut, you could have even added life imprisonment and instead strengthening the laws that are built to support non-bailable cases.

Eren was just being stupid, getting all snappy like that.

It was very uncharacteristic of him to react like that in class.  He was usually very laid-back.  Well, you did see him get in a brutal fight before but he was usually kind, which made him likeable just the tiniest bit.

You huff as you glare at your laptop screen.

He didn’t have to be that mean about it.

Exams were drawing near and your professors were trying to stuff every information in your heads.

You hear your last name being called and you look up from your notebook to look at the sweet old lady, your history teacher, who was smiling at you.

“Uh, yes?”  You ask unsure, your cheeks growing warmer with every passing second.

“I was asking if you have any clarifications.”

Your classmates groan, knowing that they will be kept for another quarter hour.

Sitting up straighter, you then close your notebook and shake your head, a small smile plastered on your lips. 

“No, I’m good.”

Well, that was odd.

The cafeteria was as rambunctious as ever and you let out a sigh of relief when see the last croquette sandwich in the counter.  You speedwalk towards it, avoiding the slow walkers, letting out a few insults under your breath.

Why can’t anything go your way for once?

Your face fall when you watch how ring clad fingers pick up the sandwich.

“Sorry, you just looked so adorable.”  Eren smiles condescendingly, trying to keep himself from laughing.  “So adorable that I just had to steal this from you.”

What was it that made you think he was kind again?

Eren stares at you with his tired looking eyes, daring you to speak up.

But you plaster that same smile again.

“That’s fine.  You can have it.  I’m not that hungry anyway.”  You turn around from him and started walking towards the cafeteria doors.

Now, he’s just being an asshole.

And he knew it too.

He was just teasing you, he wasn’t even going to buy it, just wanted to get a rise from you.

Eren bites his cheek as he watches you disappear behind the cafeteria doors.

He rolls his eyes.

Girls and their hormones.

Eren Jaeger is the resident basketball prodigy and academic extraordinaire, he’s definitely not letting such meaningless encounter get to him.

He will not think about it enough to cost him his beauty rest.  It is definitely not the reason why he wanted to go for a morning jog to clear his head.  It was also 100% not the reason why the coffee he got three minutes ago slipped from his hands just so he could get inside a coffee shop after seeing what’s by the third window to the left.

Eren Jaeger, the unparalleled ladies’ man did not just take a quick look of himself from his reflection on the decorative tin coffee pot by the cashier to see if his manbun was just averagely disheveled. 

Surely, his heart was not pounding in his chest as he casually sat opposite you on your booth as he leaned back and stared off the window, watching the sun slowly spill the colors of wine on the previously dark sky.

“Can I help you?”  You ask, your brows furrowed as you take your headphones off.

He glances at you and to your scattered notes.

“What’s your aesthetic preference?  Chaotic academia?”  He snickers.

You huff, gathering the papers on the table to stack them, muttering a small ‘shut up’.

Eren smiles but no humor finds his eyes.  “What’s wrong with you?”

Shaking your head, you put your headphones back on.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.  You can stay but please don’t pester me more than you already have.”

There it is.

Eren thanks the waitress who brought his coffee.  He takes a sip and watches how you drag your pen across the paper, leaving a baby pink hue underneath a word.

He clears his throat before setting his cup down on the saucer, making a soft clinking sound.  Your eyes flit to him for a split second.  He hides the smile that almost broke out after confirming that you can still hear him.

“You’ve been awfully quiet in class lately.”

He follows how you bite your lip anxiously, visibly drawing further into yourself, making yourself look small.

“Come on, talk to me.”  He chuckles, trying to make light of the situation but it only comes out as a nervous note.  “This is so unlike you.”

You pretend not to hear him but your leg started bouncing your breath starting to get uneven, something that he cannot overlook.

“Hey.”  Eren stood to sit next to you, almost smothering you.

Warm hands grip your shoulders as your eyes remain staring on the silver chain resting by his chest.

Eren was not certain whether he should continue talking as it may agitate you further but he also cannot bring himself to just sit there and watch you break in cold sweat.

He was almost certain you’d be having a panic attack until you threw him the nastiest glare.

“Hold on a minute, this is all your fault!”

Wha-

The audacity!

Eren’s perfectly sculpted jaw drops.  “What the fuck?”

He rests his arm on top of the leather seats.  He sits there, taken aback, not being able to keep up with your moods.

You slap away his hand that was on your shoulder still and you pull the headphones off haphazardly, he had to lean back so as to not get accidentally smacked by you.

“If only you hadn’t said it the way you did back in defense, I wouldn’t have overthought and questioned my morality like this!”  You poked his chest, cheeks all puffed as your brows furrowed.

Fuck.  You’re gorgeous.

And in the spur of the moment, in a total state of recklessness as he finds himself trapped and too entangled in everything that is you, he let the words spill from his tongue.

“Are you free tonight?”

You scrunch your nose adorably.  “What, why?”

Eren runs a hand over his face.

You hear a sigh and both look at the waitress who was mopping by the table next to you, rolling her eyes at the two of you.

“Just kiss her already.”

[hexonthepeach]

does this mean we can kill Taeil off

I came on here to make a statement but I'm going to fold it into this answer, so thank you for sending it to me even if I disagree with it fundamentally.

I get the impulse to ask someone who addresses real world injustices in their fic for something like this but it really misses the point of why people choose to write rpf while also coming off as tone deaf to the reality that we're talking about a real crime of sexual violence involving a member a lot of us believed to be a better person and supported on that trust.

I didn't want to post right away because I saw the rampant speculation and almost horrifying glee of a lot of people in engaging with it when I have intimate knowledge of bringing criminal cases against people with institutional power and relative celebrity. In the aftermath of these things a lot of noise is generated that doesn't give time and space to the victim and obscures their narrative. For obvious reasons, ongoing investigations require silence from authorities and universal support and anger on the behalf of the person wronged.

I knew the instant that I heard Taeil was dropped from the group that the allegations were serious and made a decision to no longer support him. NCT and NCT 127 are still important to me and while I trust I do not know them I also trust that they care and respect for other people until proven otherwise. I am thankful I don't know anyone who lacks the moral and ethical prerogative to remove his presence from their lives because of this information.

Asking me to kill Taeil in my story is asking me to give my time and energy to writing someone who does not deserve it.

If I could magically wave a wand of editing to remove that thorn I would but it's a a testimony to my belief in him that I spent hours writing him into it and other unpublished chapters. I don't regret it, I can't and won't remove it from history, but I won't continue writing him or a fic with his presence in it.

I'll note it's a little weird to ask someone to write something for you, but especially when it relates to wanting a fantasy retribution versus what a real one looks like.

We all know South Korea has piss-poor patriarchal standards towards the treatment of women (to the point that the main entertainment industries are manufacturing a version of reality that believes in a world that either is without it or can overcome it) but in terms of statistics 90% of violence cases are against women (98% of homicides) and only 20% of all sexual violence cases are brought to court. If you're a victim of SA you know the actual cases are off the chart, largely unreported, especially where domestic violence is involved. Institutional discredit of victims by the police is understood, if not outrightly expected, and in this case especially the focus of everything related to it should be centering the person harmed.

To write justice into a story where the victim has no voice is not a just narrative. And I would never use a real person's pain as entertainment.

[cure-icy-writes]

Making my own post for this but uh. There's this idea that if you only spend time with other people in your marginalized communities, they will intuitively understand you and make a safe space for you. But often, that's not the case and you have to deal with disagreements and schisms. The high support people who need help and the low support people who crave independence want different things, and fight over it. And if you try to only find people who intuitively understand you, you may be unprepared to find allyship or to have genuine and respectful conversations with people who don't share your views.

I enjoy hanging out with other disabled people. But some of them are still ableist. The main schism is mental versus physical illness.

People say if you're only mentally ill you can't reclaim crip punk, you can't call yourself a cripple, you can't reclaim that slur. you already have mad pride. But the human experience isn't a ghost in a machine. The body keeps the score. Someone with depression may have a lot in common and find solace and companionship with someone who's got chronic fatigue. Is fibromyalgia stored in the brain, or the body? It's neurological, and often triggered by immense mental stress. What if someone's gastrointestinal issues unambiguously stem from their anxiety, and makes walking a painful experience? Would you deny them a wheelchair?

I've talked with my therapist a bit about this, about how the average person doesn't understand that someone may be blind but have some residual vision. How you can try to fake being more abled than you really are, how passing "privilege" will end up destroying your body because you've denied it the accommodations it needed. Erasure is also a form of ableism, after all.

People with limb differences have the discourse of acquired versus congenital limb differences. Were you born without a hand, or did you lose it? Are you one of the good, natural ones, or are you secretly an Abled infiltrator who lost a limb and still calls people slurs?

The d/Deaf community isn't great about this either. They generally consider having impaired hearing to be a cultural thing, rather than a disability. Which is fine at first glance, until you realize that it's not always nuanced, and some of them are acting like we're crabs in a bucket, like impaired hearing is perfectly fine and natural, but no one else's disability can be like that. When the reality of the situation is that d/Deafness is just a social disability before it is a medical one.

You can't just say "oh, that person isn't Really Disabled because they were mean and ableist to me" because that's absolutely fake claiming. You're trying to warp the definition of Disabled so that it excludes people you don't like or don't feel comfortable around. You've decided that community and support are the same thing, and if you don't want them in your community, they don't deserve your support or anyone else's. But community takes work and it takes disagreement and you have to live with it. Idk I don't have some grand thesis here

[magz]

ID: tumblr screenshot of only part of post, by raccooninapartyhat, that say,

“kinda confused about why the dialogue surrounding disability has changed from "we are still worthy and have personhood even if we can't do the things everyone else can, and we deserve to participate in society" to “nobody would be disabled if society was just shaped the right way””

end of ID

at some point, have to try understand what other saying and what meant, to proper respond. otherwise, community discussion become mess.

.

so in case, I will explain the common intent with social model disability theory, that get simplify as or badly said as “nobody would be disabled if society was just shaped the right way”.

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the existence that there would be difference of experience and ability would stay even if society different, yes.

.

but, no. if society different, disability meaning different. “disability” meaning would not exist how it does today.

.

if society understanding and response to disability different, then that does a lot to what disability mean.

that include accommodation, but that not all.

.

the medicalization and pathology of disability - what it mean to be sick of mind and body

.

what consider normal - what “abled” is

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yes, also how it accommodate ‘disabled’ experience….

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the connotation of disability as label and “othering” of it - the ableism of implication that put into it by able society, that part….

is not need be inherent to deafness, amputation, brain damage, intellectual disability, blindness, chronic pain, or any other disability.

.

disability as category in society, decided by ‘abled’ people what is too far from acceptable ‘abled’ experience, and thus what ok to alienate.

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what limitations of body and of person, to have implications of not-normal.

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of not-normal mean society not accommodate nor expect nor treat human.

.

humans all history always have varied experience in ability and body and mind. it a physical tangible reality.

.

but ‘disability’ also a social category.

.

.

what decide that be amputee “not normal”?

what decide that not able hear “not normal”?

what decide that not able speak, not able understand same way, “not normal”?

even though the suffering and hardship of body and mind, what everyone able do, can happen and can be different for everyone.

.

but there a decided line when it “too much” so it need be discriminate.

that is “other people, not like able people who able do lot things, that is what normal.”

.

even though get old is common, and be old get disabled is common.

even though have accident is common, lose some ability common, born varying is common, and much more is common.

but it not consider “normal”. what “normal” people is, decided the way they want.

.

because “not normal” carry a lot weight.

and disability a label for broad range experiences not the same. but they all disable.

.

and what have common is that “able” people decided what kinds experience not-good not-normal not-like-us. and society shape around this. to disable even more.

.

but they decide be disabled not good thing to be, on top of the reality experience of how be disabled would be.

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even what consider disabled - where the threshold between able and disabled - vary depend on time, place, society, and more.

.

that is what it mean. disability as social label made by able people decide what to dehumanize, and that it could mean that “disability” could even not exist as mean “other people not us”.

.

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to understand disability a social label not contradict belief that if someone not able to do something or have difference in experience, it not bad thing. we have value.

.

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and yes i not able talk “normal” or type good now, but what? it ok i think. even if society make it even harder than already is, with reality of disabilities i have.

disability should not be dirty bad word, but it became so.

[golbrocklovely]

Hi, so the thing about the volunteer mods on xplrclub kind of rubs me the wrong way. They absolutely have made millions in their career, I mean their channel has been blowing up steadily for years. Their channel on top of merch sales, tours, xplrclub, they're living rather comfortably. One of the other anon's said colby has admitted to spending 10k a month on just clothing?? 10k is what I make in 5 months of working full time, dropping that on clothing in one year is insane let alone one month. Plus they have 2 mansions and not just rent but own. I'm the same age as them and I'm still living at home because despite having an MA and working full-time, my job doesn't pay me a wage that would allow me to live on my own without going completely broke and ending up in even more crippling debt.

I do like snc, as people I think they're probably really nice guys, but I think they've been in the influencer sphere for too long and no longer have any grasp on the real world. We're in a cost of living crisis right now, so asking anyone to essentially work for free is a bit tone deaf. I know they're not asking for crazy work, but they're still asking someone to give up their free time to put in labor for something they pay snc to be able to access. It's just a bit icky to me. Either don't charge them the monthly subscription if they're going to mod for you, or pay them. It just kind of strikes me as snc think their fans should be grateful to them for allowing them this opportunity to mod for them, that money shouldn't even be a factor. Idk, maybe I'm being a bit too harsh, but in the economy we're currently in, asking people for free labor while you are raking in hundreds of thousands if not millions of dollars a year is gross.

Sorry for this long post, I just felt like I wanted to get it all out, haha.

you're totally fine to vent. i agree with a lot of what you're saying. i think it's ridiculous that snc would think mods should be volunteers and not paid employees.

but to defend snc just a small amount….

snc haven't stated what the "perks" will be of being a mod. so it's possible it's negotiable to ask for a free membership as a mod, if not possibly more. on top of that, now that it has been a day and i'm not as upset as i was, i think the reason snc think this volunteer system is okay is bc when they did a livestream on wednesday, they mentioned getting mods and ppl in the comments started asking to be a mod.

not to mention the amount of ppl that have already applied to be mods. i mean the last time i checked the post (and this was yesterday mind you), there was 50+ comments, and only three of them were critical about this whole thing and one of them was me. so a lot of ppl are fine with being mods without being paid.

that, tied with ppl being on twitch and streamers pick randos from their fandom to be mods, i bet snc think this is the best case scenario and way to go about things.

i would like to believe that it's mostly this, tied with a little bit of snc being cheap lol

and look, personally idc how snc spend their money. they made it, they can do what they want with it. even if i think it's outrageous to spend 10k on clothes in a month. reality is, we're just in a different tax bracket than them. i don't relate to them on that level. and i wouldn't want them to act poor, so to speak. so….. it is what it is.

that being said, they should pay for mods. mods should be ppl not in the fandom. bc even tho snc also stated in the post that there is no amount of time you have to be online and moderating, i know there are some fans that if they do it, will be on 24/7 and will neglect their lives just to be in snc's good graces assumingly. and i think that's where an extra layer of problems lie. the lack of money is an issue, the trusting of fans is an issue, the possible future problems is another, and so on.

it would be better to get rid of chat, impo. but they ain't gonna listen to me lol

[solitalien]

Solitalien in Wonderland 🔞

Trigger warning: Talk of Burning Alive

Put a trigger warning here because I do talk about people who I saw get burnt alive. It isn’t gruesome and didn’t even look that way in my head but still. Wanted to put the warning just in case.

I had a dream last night. A really weird one where all I did was really just lay in bed. The most that I remember was waking up in my bed and being surrounded by things that looked like they belonged in a Minecraft swamp. Even the floors in my room were that muddy dark water in the game. The thoughts that were given to me from there was that I believe from that point on I was tasked with keeping all the (stuffed) animals on my bed alive until further noted. I remember this because it reminded me of Noah’s arc and that was basically the scenario I was put in.

I remember having a flash back to finding a story book. A book I had definitely dreamt about before in previous dreams of this boy trapped in wonderland. Where instead of things being what they weren’t, it was if dreams and nightmares were real and reality was what you made up in your head. I took the book with me, despite it having no relevance later in my dream.

I remember on my bed next to me were two frogs who were sleeping on top of each other. One was a lighter green and a lot more cuddly, wearing a pastel purple suit. While the other looked more like a dark green toad, wearing a golden brown striped suit. They both were carrying objects that were sized for their liking. One was a pocket watch and the other was a small umbrella.

Well after a few days past in the dream the frog woke up and as soon as he did, he immediately goes to try and kill the toad. It was there I was transported to a flash back where the two were involved. In the memory the frog wasn’t a frog. He was a boy. A boy trying to make their way to the catacombs with the toads assistance. The toad was willing to help without reason. Taking to the boy to the train station and all, but the toad couldn’t read very good, and neither could the young boy. Taking him to a charcoal cobblestone land instead.

When they arrived as soon at the boy stepped out onto the platform of the burnt waste land. He became a part of it. Burning alive begging for the toads help, and while the toad realized his mistake. He couldn’t save the boy. It wasn’t his job.

Back to the current moment the frog takes his umbrella with the absolute intention to kill the toad with the end of it. I of course try to stop him. Doing my best to reason with him as I needed all the animals on my bed alive. Only for it to fall to deaf ears.

It wasn’t then when the toad woke up for his possible death that he used dream logic. He crated braces (this “}”) and an equal sign. Having me on one end and himself on the other end of the equation. This now coming a stand off where if the frog wanted to kill the toad I would die too.

I sadly woke up near this part but all I truly remember in the end was that the frog was mildly considering it. Something about how he didn’t know me and that he wouldn’t care if I died given that’s how the toad treated him. Whilst the whole time the toad just sat there listening. Watching the frog contemplate his decision, like as if it had already been made. He just watch as I was stuck in the middle. I then woke up.

[norisbeinghuman]

Creativity in the age of AI

“I Dig a Pygmy” by Charles Hawtrey and the Deaf Aids. Phase one, in which Doris gets her oats. - John Lennon on “Two of Us”

My husband and I have been watching The Beatles: Get Back documentary and it made me think a lot about creativity, art and authenticity.

I love The Beatles. Every time I hear the opening chord of the Hard Day’s Night, I am transported back in time, 6 years old, sitting in the back of the car on our way to visit grandma on a Saturday. Beatles have shaped my taste in music more than probably any other band. Despite all the difficulties and the drama that accompanied the making of what turned out to be their last album – Let It Be – it is such a treat to watch them at work. Or maybe I should rather say to watch them at play.

Once they get into a flow, the four of them seem to be having so much fun. They break out into random songs, add silly lyrics, banter and laugh. While they are undoubtedly working and creating gems such as Let It Be, the process is so very clearly play. And not only in the sense that they are playing music, which they obviously are, but they are also playing with the music, with each other and with their ideas.

I was surprised to realise how many of these spontaneous little moments made it onto the finished album, just like the quote that introduced this blog post. It’s something John Lennon says out of nowhere, making everyone laugh. It has nothing to do with any of the songs. But it is there, the first thing on the album. Ir’s far from the only example. There are many bits and pieces that were clearly improvised, created from a moment of sudden inspiration, a moment of play. Most of them are just funny, silly, little things. But as a listener, I find them to be oh, so delightful.

The times of “perfect”

Watching The Beatles at play made me confront expectations I have about my own process of creation. Art and creative expression have been becoming more and more important for me over the last several years. I am getting more and more convinced that creative flow is one of the biggest joys in life and something we humans need to be happy. It doesn’t have to be big art, there are infinitely many ways to be creative. In my case it’s mostly writing, fibre crafts (like knitting and crochet) and an occasional drawing. My talent and ambitions are modest, and my goal is almost entirely just my own fun and satisfaction.

If the stakes of my creation are so low, why then do I seem to be more afraid of being silly and making mistakes than The Beatles were, while they were producing an album they knew millions were waiting for?

I think a part of it is the times we are living in. All of us have constant access to tools that allow us to make anything look just that little bit more polished. Just that little bit more “perfect”. Filters, photo editors, auto-tune, and now most of it powered by AI in addition. Heck, just the ability to take 50 selfies so we can pick the best one is a way of polishing reality that is very new in the history of humankind.

I know there are people who are trying to fight against this on social media, posting content and images that are more authentic, but I would say these are in the minority. There are many more who will say they are posting a candid photo, but still make sure to get themselves from the good side, or make sure the lighting is just right, or whatever else.. And most will just go with it and do their best to make their creation as polished and professional-looking as possible.

The result is that we are exposed to a stream of what pretends to be the normal life of others, but in reality is highly-polished highlights of their lives. In return, we feel like that is the level we should aim for when we are sharing something of our own. Anything less feels just plain not-good-enough. And sadly, these aren’t completely empty fears, because in the day and age of social media, the criticism we might receive online can be absolutely cruel and ruthless. I just think about the women who show their normal faces and their age in an attempt to normalise the way an average 30 or 40 year old looks like without any procedures and makeup, and they get shredded to pieces in the comment sections. We are all so used to unattainable standards that we don’t even know that that is what they are anymore.

If this is happening with “normal” people, it’s no wonder that the vast majority of big-name actors and pop stars (if not all) have a number of plastic surgeries, veneers on their teeth, flawless makeup, contouring, and an aura of effortless perfection about them. I find it so refreshing to look at music videos and concerts from a few decades ago. People look so much less polished, less perfect, and (I am probably projecting here) more at peace with that lack of perfection. Skin texture, less-than-perfect teeth, body hair, nipples showing through the tops, normal faces, normal bodies, and clothes and makeup that were meant more as a form of expression, rather than a way to hide the flaws of their wearer.

Looking at The Beatles jamming in their studio in 1969, I couldn’t help but wonder what we might be losing in our hunt for perfection. Because while it might feel like it makes sense to pursue perfection, it seemed to me that we are, indeed, losing something. I think creativity might be one of the first victims of perfectionism.

Creativity requires play.

Creativity is impossible to control. It is not something we can force. We can facilitate creativity by crafting the right conditions and hoping for it to appear, but we can’t make it happen.

Creativity is something that emerges spontaneously from play. Play is one of those things that are difficult to define, although we all experience it and intuitively know it when we see it. Play means engaging with our internal and external world in the moment, exploring, having fun. It’s a state of focus and flow, that we access so easily when we are young, but it gets more difficult as we get older. While play might look a little different in adults, it is still play, and it is the state in which we can reach into the well of our creativity.

What do we need to be able to play? One of the main requirements is a sense of safety. Not feeling safe makes it difficult to focus deeply, and to try new things that might lead to mistakes. Without feeling safe to fail, we can’t play. The other thing is the right kind of challenge: something interesting and stimulating, something that stretches us, but is still within our abilities. Ultimately, play is built on trust. Trust that our environment is safe and that we are allowed to explore, try and fail; and trust in our own ability to overcome the challenge.

Perfectionism killed the cat… I mean, play

Perfectionism is at the opposite end of the spectrum from play. There is nothing easy or playful about it, and I think one of the main reasons is that it is born out of fear.

I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won’t have to die. - Anne Lamott in Bird by Bird

Perfectionism is the fear that keeps us from trusting the safety of our playground. We don’t think we can afford mistakes. And perfectionism is the the fear that erodes our trust in ourselves. When perfection is the goal, we can never ever be good enough, and it’s only a matter of time before the fear paralyses us into procrastination and avoidance.

Imperfection is so very, very necessary, and being OK with it opens the doors to creativity, connection and authenticity.

It is our mistakes and the acceptance of mistakes that allow us to play, to practice, to be truly creative, to develop ourselves. It is how we learn and how we become better.

It is in our mistakes and in our lows that we best connect with others; they are what makes us human, what makes us relatable, what makes us real. I feel like we live in times where we would prefer “perfect” over “real”. Maybe it’s not so strange that the use of AI tools is becoming so common for tasks that are at their core creative ones. It feels safer not to show ourselves, not to risk failure. And definitely easier to avoid having to be creative when we are paralysed by perfectionism.

Most of us know all that, but that doesn’t remove the fear, nor the pressure we feel from the society.

Perfection seems like such a noble goal from the outside, for who wouldn’t want to be “perfect”. But its pursuit is a prison. It keeps us from freely exploring the world and ourselves. Perfectionism steals our play away, and with it our creativity, authenticity and connection to others. Truth is, we will make mistakes anyway, no matter how hard we try. We might as well stop trying so hard, and we will have more fun leaning into our mistakes, rather than fearing them.

To be honest, I am not sure where I am heading with this. I am winging it as I go, because I am trying to do as I preach. I am trying to play. To be real. To stop being afraid of imperfection. And I know that I will make mistakes and be cringey and that not everyone will like me, and I am doing my best to be OK with it.

I think the tide of our times will turn. Just like the 50s were followed by the 60s, which seemed much less concerned with perfection, I think people will eventually get tired of stepping so carefully through their lives. And until then, we can swim against the tide and have fun with it.

https://noriparelius.com/post/creativity/

[kradogsrats]

@its-leethee: #wondering how much of an outlier among elves lujanne's attitude toward ava was

YEAH that's an interesting question, I actually forgot about Ava because my mind just kind of glosses over her very 90s "all she needs is to be given a chance to prove there's no difference at all between her and someone not disabled!" narrative lmao

and then I wrote literally 1200 words of absolute rambling nonsense

Like, the illusion on Ava precludes her from getting any kind of accommodations for her very real disability—not even Ellis knows that she is still compensating for her missing leg in everything she does. It's also a little baffling that the answer here was "everyone needs a Very Special Lesson about prejudice" given that the original objection to allowing Ellis to keep Ava was that they can't afford to feed her, and (when Ellis argues to at least take care of her until she can be returned to the wild) that she would not survive among her former pack. I don't know enough about wild wolf behavior to know if that's true or not, but it also doesn't really matter, because the end result is apparently as soon as everyone sees Ava with four legs, it's... totally okay for Ellis to keep her forever?

(Honestly, my bet on what happened there is that the entire town just kind of quietly agreed that you should probably treat someone who receives inexplicable miraculous healing up on the local cursed mountain really well, or at least not euthanize them, and so everyone pitched in to support Ellis's family taking in Ava.)

So like... with Ava, she's essentially only disabled when people can see that she's disabled, like the opposite of an invisible disability. Obviously this would appeal to Lujanne, being particularly attuned to the aspect of the Moon primal that is associated with perceptions vs. reality. Would things have worked out as well if Ava had needed accommodations? It's not really clear, and probably would depend on exactly what she needed—there is admittedly a solid chance that people would treat the need for a basic amount of help differently from someone perceived as able-bodied vs. someone visibly disabled. (Usually that is in a negative direction, where the perceived able-bodied person is assumed to not "need" the accommodation, but it could also happen the other way in this case, with people having more patience in training and caring for a puppy who they are assured will grow up into an able and useful working animal.)

ANYWAY, given the sharp divide between Lujanne's experience of the Moon primal and the much more black-and-white way Rayla, Runaan, and others of the Silvergrove appear to experience it, PLUS the fact that even setting aside Ghosting, the punishment for surviving a failed assassination mission is literally loss of a limb? I'm not known for being very charitable toward Moonshadow culture, but in this case I don't think it's out of line to say that a lot of the Silvergrove would probably not be super keen on a three-legged shadowpaw or whatever. At best, you might get a "those of us who are able and strong are duty-bound to protect those who are not" level of cultural condescension... no one would be picking it out as their mount.

But to veer wildly off of the main topic here: like I said, I literally forgot about Ava as a disabled character since she functionally isn't, compared to, say, Amaya. Amaya is incredibly competent, but she is also undeniably accommodated by her peers and culture: those close to her are varying degrees of fluent in the sign language she uses, with many of them at minimum able to fully understand her without interpretation, and then she also has a dedicated interpreter for those who are not. She also has been blessed by the narrative with lip-reading superpowers to make things easier for everyone creating and consuming this show from within a culture that is at best indifferent and frequently actively hostile toward deaf people. Could they have worldbuilt a setting where Amaya's accommodations were baked into the entire culture of Katolis, such that everyone communicates with her entirely in sign language? Sure, but I can also see why they didn't, given that dominant media culture in the west definitely isn't ready to accept that.

But my point is that, unlike Ava's disability, Amaya is a character whose deafness is acknowledged and accommodated by both her culture and the narrative (on at least some level). It doesn't happen super often, but there are situations where Amaya being deaf makes a difference in her approach to or the outcome of a situation. One great example that they put in is the captured soldier at the Breach being able to communicate to Amaya that they're in danger by signing, which is a case where her deafness and the ways she is accommodated by those around her is a huge positive that saves lives! Then there's also the opening of s4, where because of her own lingering biases and inability to communicate in the moment, she attacks a bunch of innocent noncombatants and could have seriously injured or killed them while believing she was fighting for her life.

Interestingly, the narrative treatment of Rayla's increasingly injured hand is similar—and to be fair, Rayla's injured hand is, in fact, a disability... just one that winds up being temporary. We see a lot of circumstances where Rayla is mildly or even severely impaired by pain, weakness, or inability to use her slowly dying hand. Some, like dropping the egg through the ice, have plot-derailing consequences! Part of why there's so much emphasis on it is that it's functioning as a ticking clock for s1, but it's also narratively meant to be a challenge that reveals Rayla's character to the audience, rather than a narrative-independent character trait like Amaya's deafness. One of the things that's revealed about Rayla at the beginning of s2, as she is elatedly demonstrating all the stuff she can do with two functional hands, is the value she places on her own physical abilities. Similar to Soren, she has been raised and trained in a way where her body and its capabilities are her main asset, and if she loses some or all of those capabilities, it's a potentially existential-level Problem(tm). That says a little bit about Rayla and a little bit about Moonshadow culture, IMO.

(FWIW, my estimation is that Rayla would be more impaired by losing a hand than Soren would, given her acrobatic and two-weapon fighting style. Even in a positive and nurturing environment, she'd struggle a lot with self-worth in having to re-learn new skills and limitations, along with clumsiness or total inability in performing moves that she once trained into instinct. Soren, meanwhile, would strap a shield on the handless arm and be good to go.)

SO YEAH IDK Ava is kind of an outlier in how the setting/narrative is trying to treat disability, which is understandable since she's really not even a second- or third-string character, she's basically a plot device. Lujanne is also pretty unique in terms of Moonshadow elves that we've seen, so who knows. I mean, they can't ALL be like Rayla and Runaan, right? Right?

(Or, as something I just thought of: Lujanne is the protector of the Moon Nexus, and she's confronted with the situation of a kid and a puppy who are so desperate as to have walked through all her bean-freaking illusions. To reinforce the mountains spooky reputation and preserve the safety of the Nexus, she could a) kill them so the story is that they went up the mountain and were never seen again, or b) establish another tale of weird shit happening while also resolving the issue that sent Ellis away from her home and up the mountain. A bit risky seeing as we are immediately given a direct example of people who are desperate enough for miraculous healing to similarly fight through the illusions in the main characters, but it also means she doesn't have to straight-up murder a sad kid and her puppy.)

thinking again about how Janai not only doesn’t know sign language but is unfamiliar with the entire concept and has to find a linguistics scholar to translate for Amaya—not a dedicated interpreter, which you’d expect the center of Sunfire elf governance to have if they provided any kind of services for deaf citizens—along with Sol Regem’s blindness and apparent subsequent sidelining from both the draconic and Sunfire power structures, and the overall chilling picture that paints of attitudes toward disability in Sunfire and possibly other elf cultures in this Denny’s tonight

[chiaralibitina]

How I usually go? How I usually talk? How I used to work? How I used to....

I kick around myself a lot. Scream at everyone else, for my flaws. Blame everything on someone other. Never seeing my own mistake. Then I would go to my own space: 'I am right, they refuse to accept that!'

Then the first hit came, when she left me in the flame. I cried and kicked again. Blaming her for not being able to forgive my mistakes. I threw trash and rubbish all over her. Not seeing the toxic waste I pour.

I never took the time to look back. To see the broken ways and paths I take. To see the devastation I leave behind. The destruction, the pain, the cracks after I got to talk.

Left everyone feeling helpless, making them feel like I was the center of everything in this mess. They said: 'I wish I could help! To save you! Heal your never-ending pain!' What I should've heard was: 'Maybe you should... look at yourself first.'

But... they did say that. They yelled it in my face! I turned a blind eye. Went deaf. Ignored all the facts they threw my way.

How I hurt people for my sake. How they sacrifice their needs for my health. How they cry in my name. How they wish, I would just change.

If I realized all this sooner, it might've all been different. I read my past messages. Saw my voice, noticed the mistakes.

The selfish mess I made. How I yelled: 'No one is as selfless as I!' When in reality it was all for my own gain. Nothing out of it. All for naught. I lost people, to my own web of flaws.

So I read. Read it again. Then once more.

And when the last friendship started to crack, I saw that I am the one ripping it all for my own sake. Making a case of loneliness, when I am the one who made the file in the first place.

Looking back at who I was, who I thought I am. I can safely say: 'I was and still am a fucking disgrace.'

Tearing people's minds apart. Making them feel like they are meant to put me back

part by part.

As if I was their mess to fix. Their problem to solve. Their issue to go through. I made them... feel like they are never enough.

And with that in my heart. I took some time to reflect in my mind.

If I had a time machine, I'd go back to the crucial moments. Give my past self some signs: 'Look, you are not someone else's task!'

Only now I realize how much they have struggled. The pain I put everyone through.

Dear best friend, I apologize. For all the times I made you feel like my happiness depended on whether you are or not by my side. For all the times I blamed you for being in love. For all the times I blamed you for being someone else's number one. I get why you had the need to leave. So with this, I hope you will find in your heart to hear my apology. This time a sincere one, not the fake ones I gave.

Dear first love, I apologize. For all the times I made you seem like you're supposed to fix my mental health. For all the times I made it seem like I will die if you take a break. For all the times I forced you to stay with me. For all the times I blamed you for choosing another way without me. I get why you needed for us to split. And now, I hope you find someone who won't make you feel like I did. I hope you will be happy. I hope you will be able to smile at me, forgive me. This time I apologize and I accept my defeat. You had to leave, because you knew that you were being drowned by me.

Dear mum, I apologize. For all the times I made you feel like you never tried. For all the times I yelled that you don't listen. For all the times I seemed like I don't see how hard you fight. You would bring on a world war for me. You fought the hardest for me. Just so I could walk out of my room again. To see me smile like when I was merely ten.

To all of you, sincerely sorry. I hope you all have the heart, to forgive a selfish mind like me.

Now I will fight to be better. Not for you anymore, for myself. So I don't drown someone else anymore. So I don't put anyone else, through the same shit I did to you all.

Sincerely, Chiara. The selfish person, who now knows where to start.

[tielt]

Heya.

I’d like to state that I would certainly be a disappointment as a guru or spiritual practitioner. If you are Christian and wish to be more open Baha’i people learn from all world religions and are Christian similar to druidic practice. If I was Christian that would be where I would be if even just for the please toss my body in a hole at my house and be done with it... strange and legal funeral, only and specifically for Bahai I think. A Klingon rite haha. She, a Baha’i, was my best friend at 17 when I left the nest; spent 1-2 years smoking and drinking coffee all night at the Denny’s, she formed more of my current beliefs than did the first 14 years of my life as LDS and she has also influenced me later in life. Helped me become slightly less naive. She has a mosquito tattoo maybe because the existence of a entity as thoroughly irritating parasitic and useless says something about god and reality, it’s seems maybe anti-Daoism, she would ask as if you really feel kinship to Trump who has absolutely no human value and yet supposedly is just another us in a different washing machine at another time. Fierce human being and honestly a harder hitter than me spiritually. Has a deaf child which has given me a curiosity towards sense disabled people I've never been able to entertain. She is a writer/teacher hardcore punk. My wife in some other life where I didn’t leave rural Oregon. (Maybe, but definitely first soulmate)

Religion/spiritual studies follow definitely skip-able just leaving access if anyone wants to know.

I have an affinity to Shinto because it’s warm bubbly paganism without any specific carnal or violence worship. Modern Shinto is for me hayao miyasaki on the positives and mushishi on the destructive, it’s acceptable stories for children to learn how to coexist in a ecosystem and the scientist bits of me approve and there’s no doctrine which is why I am openly recommending it as it is entirely non hostile and about coexistence. Shinto does believe one obvious principle that Kami pervades all things like us in that radishes are essential of the same stuff. This feels like what I learned from shaman type journeys.

I fibbed before when I said I blame objects I did that specifically to elicit a response in opposition as I want you to be on the side of your stuff as you should want to protect sacred things and have that state of mind. That rare use of false manipulation was slightly premeditated, but it is a unusual thing for me and it was done intuitively. I like to believe stuff can have magic in it. I think the guru/teacher archetype is hard wired in all of us but my relationship to that part of me is not one trained to nor would recommend to others but for fun and enjoyment of being aliveness.

The original Kino’s Journey is a really interesting combination of Buddhism and what it is to go through living and dying and how to act ethically. Little bit like Starmaker(Olaf Stapleton) or maybe Star Trek but old school. The remake is decent additionally but i stan the original. I dislike the stodgyness of Buddhism and it seems like they washed their historical humanitarian abuse from what they claim is their origin, they also believe that abortion should not be allowed which if you believe that you can be warmer there than I feel about that. I do think they are a good thing for the world in a cognitive and modern compassionate sense. Similar to why I didn’t find to much interest it Aboriginal cultures I’ve gotten to know it’s often a old dude being traditional in a lot of cases. Every tribe is different though right.

I have weird feelings saying it, but I’m much into liberation of bonds and freedom of choice where your choices are within proper ethical standards of harm and kindness and I didn’t really realize it till my 30s how U.S. of an ideal this is. About Buddhism if you didn’t know rebirth doesn’t work the way most external parties believe of Buddhist reincarnation. Death means heaven or hell realms and what is reborn is the continuation of the causation that was your imprint or dharma and following your death that thread is continued by another entity and that is prev/next life connection. A different person. I don’t believe in heaven or hell but just the hum of matter becoming energy becoming matter again but I disbelieve more of my superstitions than I believe. I may discuss random superstitions later who knows but a lot of them are obviously caused by anecdotal patterns. (Synchronicity aka pattern match which the brain excels at)

It seemed necessary to write this, if you want faith or devotional sources I don’t currently practice those intentionally and don’t see it happening. I was into Krishna for a while, but I like worship through what is in my presence in a complete form. I like not knowing; that can be uncomfortable if you are used to faith. I think it’s mystifying and amazing that there are so many mysteries that seem to be agnostic as the only rational principle of access. I just know I’m ruled by magic of emotions and heart and the brain forges through in disregard. Curiosity and convincing yourself to try on belief is something I hope is of wider utility to the human experience. I do not believe doubt is bad for you and I feel no need to apologize if I have created it in you. Repeating the intro I’m not an answer guru nor plan to be I’m just another curious cat.

Safe Journeys

[the-great-horse-cocktail]

TL;DR: Tears can absolutely be manipulative, but given what we know about Stolas, in this case, they aren’t. Reasoning below the cut.

Tears can be manipulative, but in this context, it doesn’t make sense for them to be. What is Stolas trying to manipulate Blitz into? Chasing after him? When Blitz does so in AT, he rejects him. Apologizing to him? Blitz tries to apologize in FM, but Stolas teleports him outside the house. “. . . it’s manipulative because despite saying that he wants to give Blitz a choice he still is focusing on what he wants and shows he doesn’t handle rejection well.” Focusing on your desires over another person’s isn’t inherently manipulative. It may be selfish and/or myopic, but unless you’re trying to get those desires met by attempting to control another person’s actions or emotions, it’s not manipulative. And simply reacting to an emotionally charged situation with emotions of your own is not the same as playing the victim.

Based on the content of the show itself, I believe that it’s clear that Stolas is not crying in order to manipulate Blitz. Rather, he’s doing it because he believes that he has been rejected by someone he was attached to. Whether that attachment is morally good, bad, or neutral is outside of the scope of this discussion. When we go back to the beginning of FM, to the Stolitz duet, we can see that Stolas is anxious about what choice Blitz will make—will he stay or go? And this is all the nuance that Stolas gives to the situation. Blitz can either reject him or he can choose to be in a relationship with him. His actions come across as tone deaf because they are. (I could go into greater detail about this, but Sarcastic Chorus already made an excellent video on the subject, which I highly recommend.) But not understanding the intricacies of a situation isn’t synonymous with manipulation. I argue it serves as an alternative explanation for Stolas’ actions, one that lines up more cleanly with the information given to us by the narrative.

So, now that we know Stolas is viewing his proposal as a yes or no question, we can see why he takes Blitz’s response so poorly. He sees it as a rejection (and likely as a mockery of his desires) because it isn’t an immediate ‘yes, I want to be with you.’ In case you’re tempted to say I’m defending/agreeing with Stolas’ reasoning, I’m not. His assumption of rejection was incorrect, based on his faulty idea of how the night should go, which itself is based on romcoms, not reality. But I am saying that this falsity, this feeling of being rejected when he never was, is what causes his tears. Because that kind of rejection does hurt, especially when the person rejecting you calls you a pompous asshole. It was never about manipulating Blitz. It was never about anything at all, aside from hurt feelings.

But speaking of Blitz’s response, you claim that no one talks about how it was also motivated by PTSD. I don’t know what side of the fandom you’re on, but I do see people talking about that. A lot. And I agree. In fact, I found his response a lot easier to empathize with than Stolas’. There have been so many times in my life where I felt like someone leaving an argument was the equivalent of them dismissing my concerns. Dismissing me. Abandoning me. But looking back on it, I can safely assume that the people I was arguing with weren’t trying to make me feel this way. Sometimes people walk away from difficult conversations because they aren’t ready for them. Sometimes people think that you’re saying something you aren’t. Sometimes people feel like yelling means you hate them, when you’re only doing it because you feel like you’re not being heard. Whether they’re wrong or right in doing so isn’t something I believe I can determine, and even if I could, I don’t think it would enrich my understanding of the world in a meaningful way.

Nevertheless, I am all too familiar with the impulse to categorize every statement, every action, every person as right or wrong. The clarity, however false it is, feels good. But in doing so, I would fail to see the nuance; I would miss the shades of grey, only limiting my vision further. Like Stolas, I would be stuck in a dichotomy of my own creation, unable to see the world around me for what it really is. Unable to understand the simple fact that some questions have a more complicated answer than yes or no.

Yes, Stolas Stans Tears Can Be Manipulative

I came across some Stolas stans that were offended that they said Stolas' crying was manipulative and trying to justify saying that it's a ptsd reaction to being yelled at due to his abuse by Stella. Funny they don't say this about Blitzo because he could be having a ptsd reaction due to how suddenly all this was sprung on him due to the abuse that Stolas put on him. Seriously, they always say how Stolas' abuse affected him but never the abuse he has done to Blitzo. It's always Stolas' issues that come first and Blitzo's are second. And again they hide behind Stella's abuse to excuse Blitzo's abuse because this means they are ignoring how abusive Stolas has been and even his backstory can't gloss over that elephant in the room.

But going back to those tears, I really do think they don't understand what how manipulative tears can be. Stolas is certainly using this as a way to appear the victim even though he says he's changed and wants to make things right by breaking the deal and giving Blitzo a choice. However, it comes off as tone deaf because he still is practically putting Blitzo on the spot and doesn't truly understand that due to the shit he put him through he might not be ready for a relationship with him. But then when he rejects him, he thinks he's the victim of this and acts like entitled prick when he doesn't get what he wants. That's why it's manipulative because despite saying he wants Blitzo to give a choice he still is focusing on what he wants and shows he doesn't handle rejection well. He still hasn't learned anything while delusionally believing he should be rewarded for doing barely the bare minimum amount of decency.

[medicinanocturna]

Pluto: natal and transit. The medicine of dying and rebirth

Being a higher planet, Pluto belongs to the sphere of spiritual growth. It is considered to be a planet that brings complex transformations and often destructive events.

Pluto's key principle is to teach humans how to die and be re-born. As well as how to develop and own our inner power (something that we inevitably learn in the pain of transformation).

Pluto is associated with deep psychic energies, which are difficult to trace, and as a rule, its work is only visible over time.

By bringing upheavals, Pluto aligns us with our higher mission, as well as the collective karma.

It brings critical adjustments or eliminates all that is no longer valid for our further growth. Sometimes it is only possible through the entire destruction of the external (or internal) reality we are holding on to.

The position and aspects of Pluto in the natal chart show the area where the experience of critical upheavals will occur.

This is also a sphere of your chart where you have access to some hidden resources where the energy of transformation is available to you and you intuitively know how to manage it, but often can only do it unconsciously (especially before the age of 40). Instead, it feels like these hidden resources are running you through the position and aspects of your Pluto.

If Pluto is harmonious in the chart, then this point of power will attract people (Pluto in the first house, for example, can give some well-pronounced charisma), if vice versa, Pluto is aspected inauspiciously then its force can be oppressive and destructive.

The principle of Pluto's work in the transit is such that by making a deep restructuring and transformation in your life, it simultaneously makes your psyche and inner world more flexible and responsive in relation to the outside world.

Purifying the subtle bodies, Pluto clears the space for a more harmonious, powerful and precise action that is aligned with one’s higher mission.

Unlike Uranus, which acts with lightning speed and sweeps everything to the ground, Pluto always gives hints, and some backlash for a reversal, before it dismantles a certain area of one’s ​life.

The more deaf you are to Pluto’s signs, the lower is the level of vibrations it brings you at. In some critical cases, it may be a complete elimination of a person from the physical plane.

The most tangible of all Pluto’s transits occurs at the age of 38-42 when it makes a square aspect to the natal planet. 

Your personal natal Pluto is the best teacher to be prepared for this remarkable transit.

All people in our lives with who we have meaningful connections should also be viewed as transits. So Pluto’s aspects in the relationships can give you no less work to do than the transit. (Here I write more about Pluto in a synastry).

Pluto teaches us to be fully responsible and honest in the face of the unpredictability of the external circumstances and develop the adequate intensity in response to it.

One of Pluto's manifestation is when you can't no longer lie to yourself about your deepest wounds and fears.

If you do this work with diligence, Pluto will give a lot of energy to fulfil your mission. As an add-on, once its life - changing aspect is passed, it can enhance the psychic abilities of a "good disciple", such as intuition, paranormal talents and personal magnetism. 

Pluto is always considered being strong in a chart when it is in the angle houses.

A retrograde Pluto in a chart will cause psychic energy to flow inward rather than outward, and thus transformative events will often be only internal, without visible turmoil.

With proper work, this can give amazing intuition and the ability to control one's own thoughts and emotional states, as well as the gift to transmit the priceless experience of this inner work to others, which a person with a direct Pluto, even a very strong one, won't be able to do.

Drop me a line for a personal look at your chart...

Yours,

AlSheren

[isthehorsevideocute]

Hot Take of the Day: Animal Rights Activists Don't Actually Like or Care About Animals

The more actions and "justifications" i see out of folks who say they stand up for "animal rights" the more convinced I am of this.

First off let's talk about the false pretense of "animal rights" and why actual animal behavioralists tend to oppose the ideas pushed by it.

Let's make it clear right now, advocating for animal rights is not the same as advocatong for animal welfare.

Advocating for animal welfare is advocating for the proper treatment of animals. It's advocating for animals to be in environments that satisfy their biological and physiological needs in a way that gives them a life of minimal suffering.

The idea of "animal rights" inherently anthropomorphiezes animals by presenting animals as having the same needs and desires as humans. A lot of how animal rights advocates try to present their issues has little to no basis in how animals express themselves and what their actual needs and desires are. Some examples:

-"Animals inside of a barn with mud or manure on their bodies and say they are neglected and forced to live in unsanitary conditions"

-The reality is animals don't mind being dirty like we do and for many species being caked in mud or feces is actually beneficial for helping keep them cool/protect themselves from insects or the sun

-"Animals' young being taken away from them is just as traumatic to them as it is to humans"

-The reality: no species of domestic animal has anything remotely similar to the relationship that humans have with their children. Some are very quick to abandon their babies shortly after birth, some will attack or eat their young, and others will kick their kids out of the family the moment they don't need to nurse anymore. Animals do not hold familial relationships like we do and their success as a species often relies on them getting rid of their young asap before they reach sexual maturity or else the end result would be inbreeding.

-"Animals in any kind of service work or labor are being exploited and it's basically the same thing as slavery"

-First of all that take is completely tone deaf and shows how little you know about actual slavery. Second animals do not have a concept of exploitation. That's literally not a thing they have the necessary parts of the brain to understand that idea. Second domestic animals are purpose bred, so much so it is in their genetic makeup to perform the tasks they were bred to do. In other words they will serve those functions whether you want them to or not. That’s why dog breeds like boarder collies will try to herd your kids when they've never headed anything and have always been a housepet. It's ingrained in their biology. For these animals they need some kind of outlet for these instincts to live a happy and engaging life.

-"AI is rape"

-Again tone deaf. AI is not traumatic to animals and is the safest way to breed in most cases. The only way the animals' caregivers even know when to administer AI is when the animal is showing willingness to be bred. Animals are not "forced to be pregnant over and over" they will only be impregnated when it is deemed necessary and unlike how it would be in nature, we won't impregnate animals every breeding season. Even if breeding is the only task they are expected to perform, they given periods of rest to prevent over stressing their bodies with pregnancy after pregnancy.

-"Animals on trailers or in holding pens are afraid and stressed because they know they're about to be slaughtered"

-Travel and new environments are inherently stressful to animals of all types under all sorts of circumstances. It doesn't mean they are in any actual danger or are aware of why they are in a new place.

Animal behavioralists work closely with the people who actually work with animals, especially people who raise livestock because it benefits BOTH the people and the animals. Animals don't provide well when they aren't well taken care of.

And of course they LOVE taking things out of context to try to push their ideas that anyone who has animals for any reason is a sadistic animal abuser. More examples

-Posing a farmer using machinery to help a downed cow get back on her feet as them "taking an exhausted and sick cow to force them into the kill chute"

-owners of carriage horses in cities are required by law to provide evidence that their horses got rested in paddocks outside of the city for at least four months but people pushing the idea that horses are kept in stalls in city buildings 24/7

-posing pigs in birthing/nursing chutes as "having to spend their whole lives in cramped cages" when they are designed for the sows to be able to move in and out of freely

All that being said let's talk about what I've seen advocates of animal rights do and the ideas they've pushed to bring it all home.

-Touching and spraying trailered animals with water (obviously stressing them but claiming to be trying to "help" and "comfort" them)

-Holding up trailers with animals prolonging the stress of travel and preventing them from getting their needs met at their destination

-Stealing animals and killing them

-Throwing rocks at and pepper spraying animals and their handlers

-Literally saying outright that all domestic animals should be killed off

The whole "animal rights" movement is not a legitimate movement for the betterment of the quality of life of domestic animals. It never was and never will be. It's more akin to religious extremism than anything. It's not about helping animals, it's about control. It's about parading around with an ignorant "holier than thou" attitude so you can call everyone around you evil and feel like a hero in your little echo chamber. It's easy to sell to people because the idea of "being a lover of animals" is basically ingrained into the human brain but there's so much ignorance that comes with how animals actually work. All species have their own unique ways of expressing themselves and when that expression is foreign to us it's easy to misread or use it as a way to mislead. And well I guess that's why blogs like mine exist where people like me who understand how our species of interest behaves and can say if what is assumed is a correct assessment or not. So I guess the best I can do is to keep doing me and keep people educated.