#not brutal in the sense it was physically the worst thing u seen but...

[fakemiya]

[willowbird]

prompt: aaron had a slight ED that he developed as a kid and is now being noticeable to the rest of the foxes even andrew and nicky kinda knew he forgot to eat but the stress from school and exy makes it worse....

I could easily expand on this and maybe one day I will. It hits kinda close to home tho so I’m going to err on the side of brevity just for my own mental space. Thank you so much for the ask! I hope this is what you’re looking for ❤️ ❤️ Take care of yourselves!

Warnings for depression, eating disorder. 

Edit: this has been expanded and can also be found on my ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Ao3

-----

Wednesday | 6:04am

The alarm was screaming. 

Its cries crashed against his senses like sea-storm waves and Aaron was without shelter. The sound had been crowding him for four minutes now, and he still couldn't lift a hand to make it stop -- even though he was perfectly aware and wide awake. He wanted to stop the sound, he needed the quiet back, but for whatever reason his hand just wouldn't listen to his brain no matter how many times he willed it to move. 

Aaron hated days like this.

Wednesday | 8:43am

Nicky slung his arm around Aaron’s shoulders, a grin plastered on his face. His hair was slicked back like a low-budget greaser, halfway between wet and just damp. They’d just finished morning practice and he, Nicky, and Kevin were waiting out in the player’s lobby for Neil and Andrew to finish showering and changing so they could leave.

“Aw man, I am hungry. Please tell me that Andrew and Neil are gonna finish up soon so that we can go get a real breakfast.” Nicky's whining was easy enough to ignore most of the time, but today Aaron was tired and his patience was thin. He had three tests to study for, two essays to write, they had a game coming up on Friday, and Aaron didn't have the bandwidth for Nicky, too.

He shruged his cousin off with a snort. "I'm just gonna hitch a ride to the library." There were still a few hours before his first class of the day, and he needed to use that time for something productive.

"Aww, c'mon Aaron come to breakfast with us! We'll drop you at the library when we're done. It won't take too long!"

"What won't take too long?" When Aaron looked over, he saw Neil and Andrew coming out of the locker room, clean and changed.

"Breakfast!" Nicky announced. "Neil, tell Aaron to join us! It's a family breakfast -- he should be there!"

"You can't just label things "family" events as a way to require people to be there," Kevin said with a long-suffering sigh. Even so, Aaron noticed he already had the menu of their usual breakfast joint pulled up on his phone. The pictures of pancakes topped with glistening syrup and fluffy omelets made his stomach clench in an unpleasant way.

Aaron looked away.

"I've got a shit to do," he said. That would be his final word on it, and to demonstrate, Aaron turned to head toward the doors.

Except Andrew had moved to block him, though Aaron hadn't registered when his twin had circled them. Aaron frowned, lifting his chin in challenge.

Andrew just studied him for a long moment before looking just past Aaron, gaze darting over his shoulder to the others behind him. He lifted a hand and a second later a slim object snapped into it. When Andrew then held it out to him, Aaron saw it was a granola bar.

A quick glance over his shoulder exposed the granola bar thrower as Kevin, who was zipping his backpack shut. They matched gazes briefly and Kevin nodded toward the granola bar in Andrew's hand.

"If you aren't going to come to breakfast with us make sure you get something on your way to the library."

Aaron glared at him, then rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. Andrew just looked at him, expression blank, and continued to hold out the damn granola bar like he could stand there all day without a care in the world.

A flash of resentment boiled through him. Of course Andrew could stand there so fucking unbothered. Barely anything affected him at all.

With an annoyed huff, Aaron snatched the bar out of Andrew's hand and shoved it into his pocket before stalking out of the building.

Wednesday | 1:15pm

Katelyn ❤️ (13:15): Hey baby! Prof Dixon bailed again ~ you free?

Aa. Min. (13:15): McCallister's?

Katelyn ❤️ (13:16): See u in 5! 😘

Wednesday | 1:23pm

Aaron stood inside the confused cacophony that was McCallister's, an on-campus restaurant that was the love child of a deli and a pub but four times too big, regretting his choices.

It wasn't even the noise that was bothering him the most. It was the smell.

Aaron took two steps into the restaurant and his stomach roiled. It twisted and tightened, curling in on itself in disgust at the sharp, slimy stench of cold cut deli meat cushioned on a waft of double-baked potatoes that filled the restaurant like wildfire's haze. He and Katelyn met here for lunch two or three times a week when their schedules lined up. They both liked the food and they had several corner booths where they could hide in and study together after eating. It was one of their favorite places. But right now, Aaron was fighting not to gag. 

“Aaron!” Relief warred with dread at the sound of Katelyn’s voice and he hastily plastered on an imitation of the smile he usually didn’t even have to think about, that always rose to his lips whenever she was around all on its own. It didn’t today, but for Katelyn he could make the effort. For Katelyn, Aaron could do anything. 

He turned around once that smile was fixed in place and wrapped his arms around her when she joined him, indulging in a quick kiss that soothed some of the nausea churning in his gut. When they broke apart, Aaron turned to lead them toward their usual booth but Katelyn stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Babe is everything alright?” Worry painted a crease between her eyebrows, her mouth drawn down as she studied him. 

Most days, Katelyn’s concern warmed him. It made him feel seen and loved and cherished. Today it put a slash of anxiety through his lungs, breath seeping out through the cut and concaving his chest under the weight of her scrutiny. 

Aaron arranged his smile into something tired and unalarmed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long week, y’know?”

Katelyn hummed like she wasn’t sure she believed him but was deciding to trust him anyway, then she smiled and she released his arm only to take his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Alright, then let’s get some lunch and shut out the rest of the world for at least a little bit, yeah?”

The smell of the restaurant was still choking him and even his skin felt tight. The absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was stay there another second, let alone the hour he had until he needed to think about heading to his next class.

“I’m so sorry Kate, I’ve got to meet with the TA for my history class. I remembered right after I texted you but I still wanted to see you so I figured I’d just tell you when you got here.” He offered an apologetic smile and did his best to ignore the way guilt was now mixing uncomfortably well with the sick already sloshing around in his stomach. Aaron did not like lying to Katelyn, it felt wrong. But he also couldn’t... he couldn’t explain what was wrong with him right now -- not because he didn’t know, but because he was sure explaining it was going to make him sound crazy and that was just the last thing he needed right now. It was better to slip away, go somewhere he could focus on homework or something and just... wait for it to pass.

Katelyn’s expression fell, flashing disappointment, then a sad understanding as she nodded. “Of course. It’s okay babe, really. I’m just glad I got to see you at all.” She smiled then -- that bright, warm, just-for-him smile that always had Aaron’s heart skipping. A small knot of tension loosened in his lower chest, just enough that he was able to take a small breath and offer a more genuine smile of his own in return. 

“I love you,” he told her. 

“I love you too, Aaron. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you later, okay?”

He made no promises before he made his escape, just a smile and a wave.

Wednesday | 3:37pm

The granola bar tasted like ash in his mouth. It felt like there were iron weights attached to his jaw, making it impossible for him to chew. A fist of repulsion locked around his throat, and it was a physical struggle to swallow. 

This was the worst part about days like this.

Aaron knew he had to eat something, because he knew what could happen if he didn’t and the only thing worse than having to put up with feeling this way, dragging himself through the mud of his own psychosis one step, one mile, at a time -- was doing it with everyone watching him struggle. 

So he forced himself through half the granola bar. He knew better than to push for more than that, or all his efforts would be wasted into the nearest trash can.

Wednesday | 7:51pm

Practice had been brutal. It had been so bad that even Nicky hadn’t been able to cheer himself through it and was just as bitter and on edge as the rest of them by the time they hit the showers. 

Aaron sat in the lobby and waited for the others, feeling old. He felt tired. He just wanted these stupid pissing contests to stop and everyone to shut up. He wanted the world to be completely silent, completely empty. Emptiness sounded nice. Sounded peaceful. Sounded right.

The sharp scuff of shoe-rubber against tile had him cringing so hard his shoulders ached and he peeled his eyes open to glare at the source. Andrew stood there, hands in his pockets, blank-faced and too knowing.

Aaron snorted and looked away. 

The couch shifted slightly as Andrew took the spot next to him. There was the soft shk of a blade cutting into something crisp and when Aaron looked over, Andrew was holding out a small sliver of apple. His brother wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the other Minyard was dispassionately staring at the tv, which was playing some sports channel that Aaron knew very well Andrew didn’t give a single shit about. 

For a long moment Aaron just stared at the side of his twin’s face, but it was impossible to know what, if anything, he was thinking about. Finally, he looked at the sliver of apple. It was pale, small, unobtrusive. Aaron’s stomach clenched, a mix between hunger and repulsion. All he’d had today was that half a granola bar -- which had been both too much and not enough. His throat tightened as he stared at that innocuous slice of fruit, but he was almost focused more on the hand holding it. His eyes burned and he looked away, but not before taking the slice. 

[smalltragedy]

* herman tommeraas, cis man + he/him | you know donovan mercer, right? they’re twenty one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ice boy by corbin like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15th, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

looks away as i finally post his intro after being kinda awol fr however long. i love him a lot n hes also bri’s character mercy’s younger brother so u hv to be nice to him. think abt mercy’s life. then think abt ducky. im sry in advance tht his intro’s a little longer ive hd ducky fr like. a year or two n i’ve been playing him a While <3 as always like this if u’d like 2 plot n i’ll try 2 msg u bck bt otherwise im gna just hop right into threads bc obv i need to. change my methods.

ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DRUG ABUSE, EYE INJURY, GANG MENTIONS TW.

mini playlist.

father ;; the front bottoms / ice boy ;; corbin / lose yourself ;; eminem / my own worst enemy ;; lit / say it ain’t so ;; weezer / maps ;; yeah yeah yeahs / star stopping ;; lil peep / benz truck ;; lil peep / trauma ;; nf / northern downpour ;; panic! at the disco / your graduation ;; modern baseball.

statistics.

full name: donovan mercer.

nickname(s): ducky.

birthday: march 15th, 1999.

zodiac: pisces sun, aquarius moon, aquarius ascending.

mbti & temperament: intp & theorist / phlegmatic.

label: the despondent.

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york.

sexuality: bisexual (bt not out). 

pinterest.

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

implied abuse tw // their father was not kind, or merciful - and ducky was a runt compared to mercy, small and sensitive and kinder than his brother. weak, and filled with softness, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice - but it didn’t. and it never did.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed. implied abuse end of tw

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

abuse mention // but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be. end of abuse mention

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. he never graduated high school.

abuse mention // anxiety mention // anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

heavy abuse tw // violence tw // it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly.

eye injury // corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse. 

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

the mercer brothers have been floating around the north carolina scene for ~5ish years now, trailing after their father who is consistently chasing after their mother with no luck. they’re currently residing in palm motel. can we get a hell yeah?

personality & facts.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be on him harder. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures at the community college, occasionally, or physics, or whatever peeks the small curiosity inside of him.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs and leaves the rest for mercy. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

drug abuse // has a. complicated relationship with benzos n xanax n a various assortment of painkillers. ironic bc he hates drugs due to. his chosen career n wldnt do most of what they sell, bt yknow. this ws inevitable. hates beer bt forces himself 2 drink it bc toxic masculinity probably man idk.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

violence mention // purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted plots.

u look good tonight ... ;; wld love a connection in which he is feeling emotionally compromised n maybe kinda hs a thing w someone bt hes like. very unreliable n kinda ghosting bc he is very afraid n it wld b maybe bad fr them to b anything other than hook ups. cld apply to smth very intensive or smth very surface lvl i’ll take thousands.

palms sweaty ... moms spaghetti ... ;; ppl tht ducky just hs fkn brawled. cld b anybody fr any reason. ducky prob lost n he prob lost on purpose bt also ur muse cld maybe kick ducky’s ass? cld b a fake fight cld b a real fight. cld b a npc fight n then ur muse cn patch up ducky? possibilities endless. maybe they hv a nice spaghetti dinner n both of them r both bruised up frm their fight. sometimes fights end in spaghetti dinners. thanks eminnem or whatever.

own worse enemy... ;; ducky needs friends bt hes bad at making friends n sometimes he fks shit up by pushing ppl away n self sabotaging n being a major cunt n sometimes he just ghosts bt hes always very remorseful abt it? this cld b a very like. up n down friendship of any type its just. where do they stand. r they friends. r they enemies. r they lovers? probably not lovers. prob just platonic. but still its the thought tht counts. 

and also ;; literally just like. anything. clients who buy off of him n like. casual friends n casual enemies n casual hookups. ppl hes ghosted. ppl hes embarrassed himself in front of. maybe ur muse tries to get ducky to socialize or maybe ducky is like. u are too much fr me. n ur muse runs off crying. endless possibilities all u hv to do is call this number now. 

[nattikay]

Some Thoughts on Troll!Jim and Humanity

First, a disclaimer because Merlin is always brought up when troll!Jim is: this post is not about Merlin. This post is definitely not defending Merlin or his actions. I absolutely agree that Merlin is a butt and acknowledge that what he did was manipulative at best. But what’s done is done, and that is beyond the point of this post.

Now that aside...I’ve seen theories floating around that Jim, after being transformed into a half-troll, is now perpetually living his worst fear as shown by his time in the deep.

I disagree.

That thing Jim fought in the Deep? That wasn’t troll!Jim ya’ll. The design is different.

In fact, interestingly enough, deep!Jim actually looks physically more human than troll!Jim. He lacks horns, his hairstyle is closer to human!Jim’s, and he appears to be about the same height as human!Jim, whereas troll!Jim is significantly taller.

He does possess a few similar traits to troll!Jim, such as pointed ears and enlarged bottom fangs (hard to see both in every screencap but I assure you they’re both there), but even those aren’t quite shaped the same as troll!Jim’s.

It’s almost as if deep!Jim is somewhere in-between human!Jim and troll!Jim physically.

However, he does have one particular trait that neither human!Jim nor troll!Jim have: slit pupils. This gives him an instantly more threatening and animalistic face, vs. troll!Jim whose eyes are still very human and therefore feel safer, design-wise. Easier to trust.

Deep!Jim communicates in guttural growls and laughs menacingly as he threatens to overcome his foe. He’s taking pleasure in the violence. The real Jim never does this in either form. Deep!Jim was a brutal, vicious fighting machine, something that the real Jim never wanted to be.

Jim’s greatest fear was not becoming a troll. It was becoming a monster.

And that goes much deeper than physical appearance. At its core, being a “monster” is not about looking scary on the outside--it’s being broken on the inside. Being cruel, vicious, brutal, uncaring.

While the ability to walk in daylight did come in handy here and there, what made Jim a great Trollhunter was not his physical humanity--in fact, other than the daylight thing, that was often a hinderance. It made him smaller, weaker, slower, and generally more vulnerable than most of his enemies.  

No, what made Jim a great Trollhunter was his human heart. His compassion. His reliance on his friends and ability to make allies. His trust and loyalty and his ability to see outside the box of troll culture/tradition ( standing up to the Trollhunter spirit counsel about the help of his friends, saving Chompski instead of killing him, etc). His values.

He did not loose any of these when he became half-troll.

This is why I don’t much like it when people say Jim “gave up his humanity”. It is technically true in that, yes, physically he is no longer fully human--but wording it that way, to me, makes it sound like he lost his human heart.

He didn’t. And in that sense, his humanity--the most important part of it, anyways--is still very much intact.

As Claire stated:

“Maybe you feel like everything has changed...but only the outside stuff. Inside...you’re still you.”

And she’s right.

At first Jim’s transformation was overwhelming. He’s already been through a heck of a whole lot over the course of the series, not to mention having to make this choice in the first place and with the ever-manipulative Merlin breathing down his neck, and now he’s suddenly being bombarded with new senses, a new body, new strengths and weaknesses--it’s foreign and it’s scary and there’s no going back. No fleeing to a more familiar, comfortable state. No crap ‘it was overwhelming’. And for a while he panicked. Good gracious, who wouldn’t?

But that doesn’t mean he’s doomed to misery forever.

He’ll adjust. It’ll take time, but he can do it. And he won’t be alone either. He has Blinky and Claire, as well as Toby and Aarrrgh and Barbara and Strickler etc. via phone, all of whom have been and I’m sure will continue to be very supportive. 

His life is not “ruined” either. Yeah, he won’t be able to live a normal human life anymore, but let’s face it, with his duties as the Trollhunter he wouldn’t really have been able to do that anyways. He was already struggling to balance the two.

School? The trolls had to leave to find a new Heartstone, and as the Trollhunter Jim probably would’ve had to go with them even if he was still human. And on the flip side, if the trolls had stayed in Arcadia? Arcadians know about trolls now. If Aarrrgh could go to summer school in 3Below, troll!Jim could most certainly have finished his last two years. Sure he’d need some arrangements to get there and back with the sun, but even that could be as simple as bringing an umbrella. 

Not being able to walk in daylight? That’ll be frustrating, but there are workarounds. The aforementioned umbrella is one; there’s also that stone he can put in his amulet that grants sunlight immunity. Annoying, sure. But life-destroying? Nah.

Not being able to eat human food? He’s only tried the one dish. Just because that one didn’t taste good to him anymore doesn’t mean no other human food will. Dictatious eats Nana’s pie, and if I recall correctly I think he also eats some of the Nougat Nummies Toby throws into the Darklands (though to be fair I get the feeling that Dictatious isn’t particularly picky lol). Blinky also comments about Toby’s tacos that he “knows what those things do to the inside of a troll”, implying that he’s eaten those before.

Yes, his palate has changed; so what? Is it really that big an issue that different things taste good to him now? He can still cook; he’ll just have to learn new recipies and do some exploring with what he can and can’t eat. Heck, maybe it’ll even be fun to experiment with foods and ingredients he never would have used before. Just because he’ll be enjoying different foods doesn’t mean he won’t be enjoying food, period.

“But he was upset about these things in Jimhunters!” Yes, when he was already stressed and panicking. You don’t think rationally when you’re that stressed. In that state of mind every little thing is blown up, even things that normally wouldn’t be a big deal at all. Once everything calms down, things will get better.

tl;dr

Jim is NOT “living his worst fear” and his life is not “ruined”. Yes, he will need to adjust to his new form, but with his friends and family still very much by his side (physically or emotionally), he can still very much lead a happy and fulfilling life as a half-troll.

thank u and goodnight

[captainignatiuspigheart]

Another week, another near-sun tan. This week I’ve seen a friend in person (what the actual fuck?) and found a new direction for exercise. That sounds pretty good, right? It was extremely disconcerting to meet up with a person in real life – I’ve begun to feel a little like all my friends who have long assured me that they’ve met their best friends purely online – but three hours sitting in the local park in a government-approved triangle was lovely. I’ve been seeing others largely as things to be avoided as they blunder towards me, breathing heavily with no sense of physical distance. Apart from the postman and chin tilts to neighbours it’s the most human experience I’ve had of late. I also attended a properly fun Zoom birthday party too (thanks Mr Ben!), so clearly we’re getting used to these things.

Heading out in the direction of Dovecote Lane park eventually sent me that way on my bike too. I’ve found exercise really hard for the last couple of months. I’ve always relied on cycling to work (and the swim at the halfway point) for a few miles in each direction to keep me fit without feeling like I was doing exercise, and it’s been pretty good for keeping me fit and able to eat and drink what I like. Well fuck you very much lockdown, that’s been properly trashed. Cycling in an aimless circle round university park or Beeston has been quite cack, and while jogging on the spot clearly burns calories it’s too tedious. So I’ve started cycling out to Attenborough Nature Reserve. It’s not especially far, but I’ve rarely explored round there, so I’m enjoying heading off down a road with no clue where it goes. It’s not made me late for work… yet. Even when I didn’t sleep at all on Thursday night I got up and went for an explore before work. Must be good!

In between late night walks around Beeston, drinking too much and watching TV, we’ve continued our slow build of the LEGO Brick Bank. It’s quite lovely.

I’ve also finally returned to LEGO Star Wars: The Complete Saga on our Wii. I’m up to 30-something per cent and enjoying it enormously. I have discovered though that our TV really can’t handle proper dark contrast on a sunny day, so I’m dying a lot by falling off edges I can’t see. There have been a few levels where I’ve had to stand right in front of the TV (in sport mode), and just hoped I’d find the exit to a room. Still, I’ve got Indy and General Grievous to hop around and smash stuff, so I’m happy.

Oh yeah, and another bootleg Mando arrived this week – with shiny beskar armour! Baby Yoda will have his Mister Shiny Helmet. Nicely, he comes with a screwdriver accessory which I assume is supposed to be the tracking fob. There is something in me compelling me to acquire more of these guys… I’ve also just got the Armourer, but pics of her will have to wait till I’ve crafted a custom cloak. What is wrong with me…?

  Watching: Hollywood

OK, so this should have been in last week’s post, but I’d forgotten that we’d watched it. That’s no indication of how good it is, everything belongs to the neverwhen at the moment. Plus we caned through it in three nights. This is a very strange show, offering us an alternate Hollywood of the 1950s in which the reviled minorities of the day can actually get a foothold in the industry. The show nails the golden era vibe, from movie producer boardrooms to the grim/delightful gas station gigolos. Over the first couple of episodes the show draws together the flailing careers of half a dozen interesting and purposely diverse young Hollywood hopefuls and then sets them together in a movie, despite, or perhaps because of, their race, gender and sexuality – all things that would have killed their careers in real Hollywood. It’s a very pleasing show; the acting is great, from the keen Jack Castello moonlighting as an escort from the aforementioned gas station (it and its owner, Ernie West, are an absolute highlight), aspiring black actor Camille, Archie the black and gay screenwriter who finds himself in a relationship with Rock Hudson (also a delight, and terrible actor in a fantastic screentest montage), and the awesome double act of Hollywood execs Dick Samuels and Ellen Kincaid, plus the quite distressing sleazy and manipulative agent Henry, played with soiled glee by Jim Parsons. 

It’s really good fun, and a moving story – each success feels wonderful, and Hollywood getting behind this gang is immensely satisfying, as is the acceptance and coming out of various characters at all levels of the business. For me, it remained jarring however, for just how unreal the situation is compared to Hollywood of the ’50s – it never escaped its own unlikeliness. Most certainly worth a watch.

Doing: We Are What We Overcome – Live Specials

We’re continuing to livestream every other Monday on Facebook, this time on trying to be aware of our mental health states, as well as that of others. I feel like we’re getting better at this live babbling thing. It feels less awkward now. We’ll be streaming to Facebook next on Monday 1 June, and you can watch em all right here.

Reading: The Lock Artist by Steve Hamilton

I’ve been through another couple of weeks of struggling to read properly, or at least as quickly as I enjoy. After discarding half a dozen books less than one chapter in, I finally prised open my book cupboard and pulled out the first pretty thing I could find. It was this! A pleasing and sharply written story of a boy traumatised into silence by an event in his childhood (which is only fully revealed toward the end, and works very nicely),  a lad who discovers he has two talents, drawing and lock picking…  We’re given two main story threads to skip between: his life as the lock artist led by a series of pagers offering jobs that he responds to, and how he got into all this trouble in the first place. They’re both peculiarly endearing, and that’s partly down to the charming internal monologue which carries through all of his interactions, since he does indeed remain mute throughout. He’s funny, and sweet, enough of an outsider through his selective mutism to have a cynical eye, and yet through his silence other people just trust him. Including proper big bad criminal types. It all ends rather badly, but we’re told that from the beginning. His lengthy infatuation and distance romance via comic book pages that he and his sort-of girlfriend exchange is genuinely delightful. This is fast-paced and fun, with a harsh shade of real darkness in both his past and future.

Reading: Transformers vol. 1: The World in Your Eyes

This was a hard read for me. I’m a huge fan of IDW’s previous Transformers continuity, which ran for an extraordinary thirteen years (a feat that I don’t think any other Western comic series, still less one based on a toy line, has achieved), taking us from the brutal finale of the Autobot-Decepticon war through to peace time, with wonderful characters, alternating humour with dark political wranglings. This new reboot has quite a lot to live up to… 

We’re taken millions of years back to Cybertron pre-war, introducing us to the sights through the eyes of newly forged Rubble, who’s being shown round by Bumblebee. Of course, it’s the worst possible time to show a new kid round, as the tensions between the establishment and Megatron’s “Ascenticons” are just now bleeding over into violence. It’s a lovely Cybertron, one we’ve only glimpsed before in flashbacks (or, memorably, time travel), and it’s a thriving world with vast architecture, travel and commerce. A successful world, which for what feels like the first time, has organic alien races living alongside the Transformers. It’s sad to think it’ll all be ripped apart soon…

It’s a very pretty comic, but is incredibly slow moving, even for the first chapter introducing a rebooted world. I suspect I’m finding it hard going from the well-established characters of the last continuity to seeing them all reshuffled and now filling different roles. It’s a cool era to set the story in though, and I think it’s got promise.

Building: LEGO Ninjago 70736 Attack of the Morro Dragon

I love Ninjago’s dragons and the insane aesthics the range has pursued down the years, giving us both traditionalish ninjas and dragons, but also Mad Max dieselpunk, enormous mechs, and more recently Tron-style arcade stuff. Bonkers. Oh, and also the stunning Ninjago City builds and the even wilder designs from The LEGO Ninjago Movie.

This set’s a little older, and like most of the Ninjago line I only pick them up when they’re quite severely discounted. Obviously it was the glow in the dark colours that appealed to me most of all, and those lovely wings. It’s a satisfying assembly, with a mini temple build, sky bikes (or something, I don’t really follow the stories), a couple of ninjas and three more of these evil ninjas with transparent legs and heads. Oh, and two ghosts. I’ve already put them somewhere but it’s the dragon I was interested in.

This is actually a smaller set than I thought it was, and comes together very quickly indeed. Despite being larger, and having more pieces than Master Wu’s dragon (a fantastic LEGO set), it’s a shorter build all round. The construction is like many of the others, a combination of big crunchy joints and the little Mixels ones for legs, wings and tail. I always enjoy the design of the dragon head itself, which gives the beastie a lot of character. The chin horn is oddly satisfying! All the glow in the dark pieces give the dragon its lovely roiling curves, but leave it sadly inflexible. It’s a dragon I’d love to coil around a building, but that’s gonna take a severe re-engineering of its body. It’s rather striking, and I imagine this one will remain constructed for quite a while, at least until I want to plunder its glowing parts.

And just because I liked it…

Watching: Never Have I Ever 

We watched this in a single night… I’m always thrilled to stumble across shows with under half-hour episode lengths at present. This is a pretty straightforward US highschool outsider tale, from the somewhat unusual perspective of an Indian-American family. That’s a pretty familiar trope in UK TV, and was very welcome in the even-more-familiar US high school setting. I’m not sure that there’s anything exceptional here, but it’s warmly told, with a number of fun and occasionally over the top performances, all solidly conforming to our expectations of a high school drama. I had some trouble figuring out how old the characters were supposed to be as it’s the usual casting combo of girls who must be in their twenties, but look about 14, and guys who are plainly in their mid-thirties. No wonder kids are so confused these days etc. As usual it’s the vibe between the BFFs that makes this fun to watch, particularly drama-queen Ramona Wong (wonderfully and worryingly odd in the lamentably cancelled Santa Clarita Diet). As filled with diversity and coming out stories as you could hope for, this is plenty of fun, if not especially memorable. Oh yeah, and it’s narrated by John McEnroe. Yes, the tennis player. 

Doing: MissImp’s Virtual Improv Drop-In – “Specific and True” with Terje Brevick

Continuing our mission to bring you improv from everywhere, this week’s episode features Norwegian improviser, Terje Brevick, with fun games and a good reminder of the value of details and honesty in improv.

Last Week – a really busy week! Featuring another mental health livestream, books: The Lock Artist & Transformers vol 1, TV: Hollywood & Never Have I Ever, LEGO: Morro dragon and MORE. Sleep now please. #books #tv #lego #stuff https://wp.me/pbprdx-8EZ Another week, another near-sun tan. This week I’ve seen a friend in person (what the actual fuck?) and found a new direction for exercise.