#people can have different experiences in life

[sageshouldknowbetter]

It’s tempting to think that innies are just the outies at their core, right? That they’re what you get when you take a person and peel away all their past trauma until you get to their very soul. The true essence. The self free from expectations. “The you you are.”

But we have to remember: innies can’t be the “true” outies without the environmental influence to “mess them up,��� because the severed floor is NOT a non-environment. This world that the innies are born into forms their every character trait and idiosyncrasy that isn’t already BURIED in the outie’s subconscious. So though it’s fun (and not completely wrong!) to say innies are outies without the baggage… they aren’t the outies in their “purest forms” either.

Take Mark, for example. On the surface, the Mark S we see at the beginning of season one is a hard-working, kind, and seemingly content yes-man. Mark Scout, meanwhile, is a depressed and sarcastic alcoholic who gets drunk at night and sobs in his car the next morning.

The apparent difference between them? Mark Scout remembers his wife dying in a car crash and Mark S… doesn’t. Therefore, Mark S must be basically like Mark Scout was before Gemma died. … Right???

Not exactly. Because Mark S still has a past. A short one, sure, and closed-off too — but still a past, and it highly affects his personality today.

It’s heavily implied that he didn’t start off as the corporate tool we see in early episodes. In fact, based on his account of threatening to kill Petey and extensive references to past torture (“bad soap,” “Milchick can’t always be nice like that,” and “It’s easier for you both if he knows which end to start from”), he could’ve been almost as rebellious as Helly. The difference is that where Mark Scout remembers being formed by a drunk father, screeching tires, and policemen at the door, Mark S remembers days on end in the Break Room, saying he was a blight on humanity until he believed it was true.

That’s a decent portion of why he comes across as a “sweet” yet timid bootlicker! Because he is built on trauma! Just new trauma! Different trauma! Trauma he remembers, but Mark Scout doesn’t! (His outie’s past still impacts his character, sure, but it’s not at the forefront of his mind the way his conscious memories are.) The fact that his bad experiences are novel, weird, and surface-level innocuous don’t make them any less potent or formative to the kind of person he is now.

In the same way, I don’t think it’s exactly right to call Helly “what Helena would’ve been like if she was free from Lumon and the pressure of being an Eagan.”

Yeah — in some ways, it’s true. Helly doesn’t have to worry about public opinion, the weight of her name, or what her father thinks. She can have friends and a surrogate dad and, well, baby goats. But the difference between Helly and Helena is more than just one remembering her Eagan upbringing and the other not. The severed floor is in NO way some controlled, pressure-free, unable-to-change-its-inhabitants environment.

Helly remembers cutting her arm in a smashed-open window under red glow, apologizing in the Break Room over a thousand times, and learning just how much she isn’t considered a person. But she also remembers three other people being her only allies, friends (and lover), and entire world — literally. Less than ten people, and always under horrific circumstances, are the only people she ever sees. This kind of life could NOT happen to anyone on the outside, including Helena — even if she wasn’t born an Eagan.

So what would Helena be like if she wasn’t an Eagan? The truth is… we don’t know. But the question isn’t what she would be like. It’s if, stripped of her heritage, it would even still be her in the first place.

Your brain is split in half. Is that still you? You are awakened, memories gone, born again into a whole different kind of world, and grow to fill it like water in cupped hands. Is it still you now? Are you the same “you” you were ten years ago? Ten months ago? This morning? Who ARE you? And what IS “you,” anyway?

That’s what Severance wants us to ponder. And whatever the relationship between innies and outies is (the same person, completely different people, Cain and Abel, you in another lifetime) (can you even call that “you”?), one thing’s for certain: innies aren’t just outies with the bad stuff wiped off. If anything, that’s what Lumon would like them to think.

[shelbycragg]

hi shelby! can i ask how you feel about the work you did for homestuck? if i’m not mistaken you drew for Calliope (and other art) and i was wondering if it was “fun but in the past” or more “in the past dont wanna talk about it”- your work inspired me a lot back in “the old days” lol (i has a diff tumblr and diff life) so i hope it does not cause u grief! i just dont see much mention of it on ur blog. have a good day~

i did all that work when i was in my late teens-early 20s in college and i am 32 now so i mostly just look back on it with some nostalgia and a healthy amount of "oh honey" about my younger self. i was a part of the small indie webcomics/livejournal fanfiction community before HS inexplicably blew up with multitudes of young teenagers in 2013 (and the story went off the rails...) and i got pulled on to work on it officially, so my experience with it is a little different and it definitely a time when i was finding myself as a young writer. i met a lot of awesome people along the way, and i learned a lot about myself and what im willing to put up with, let's just say that. i left the team because of creative differences and it kinda just is what it is. that was like 10 years ago at this point LOL i'm much happier now writing my own story about problematic aliens, syn7ropy, which has yet to be released publicly but if anyone is interested in beta reading we do have a small and chill discord server with links to all the drafts and WIPs and tons of art

i still do homestuck related commissions for people though because gotta get that cash. LMAO.

[nerdby]

Wow, okay, with all due respect to Richard this is complete bullshit. There are many, many different recognized forms of art therapy.

Not only but this statement is harmful because it fuels Satanic Panic era and Christofascist fearmongering beliefs that people who create horror, toxic romance, or other forms of controversial art are inherently violent and evil. When that is simply not true and is a belief that has been debunked over and over again.

Lots of people create art because it is cathartic and to help them process trauma. Well known examples include Ellen Hopkins whose Crank trilogy of books was inspired by her own daughter who was a real life addict and teen parent, Dorothy Allison author of the semi-autobiographical novel Bastard Out Of Carolina (I'm assuming you know what semi-autobiographical means), and most recently Colleen Hoover's whose book It Ends With Us was inspired by her mother's escape from an abusive relationship in real life.

And NO, none of this means that you have to suffer in order for your art to be good or valid.

What it means is that what works for some people does not work for everyone.

The Doubling of Self: An Interview with Richard Siken by Peter Mishler

[heraldofcrow]

One thing about me is that if you shun or try to isolate a friend of mine (or just anyone who you’ve dubbed a “fault in the system” or harmful despite evidence to the contrary) after you misjudged them for being a bad or malicious or untrustworthy person, I am going to rabidly support them and be extra fucking loud about it and make sure their voices are heard from every corner and it will literally be my driving force to stay online and alive for years.

[annalacerda17]

I've been thinking about the fandom's attitude toward trauma, and I find it deeply problematic. I'm going to ramble a bit about it.

Here's the thing, either people completely dismiss the element of trauma in the story, or they turn it into a free-pass that can excuse any future shitty behavior from the character.

Specifically, when it comes to Wei Wuxian, I see that his childhood trauma from losing his parents and being left to beg on the streets, and from being made a scapegoat by Yu Ziyuan - who was extremely abusive towards him, both physically and emotionally - to the war, the trauma of being thrown into the burial mounds, and everything that happened from the moment he created the ghost path of cultivation until the first siege of the burial mounds and his death, can all be minimized or all together dismissed by certain parts of the fandom when analyzing his actions in the first life. That's part of why I hate takes that portray Wei Wuxian as oblivious to Lan Wangji's feelings or too emotionally unintelligent to understand the romance, when, actually, there was a ton of shit going on in his life and he absolutely had no energy left to think about romance, of all things. The trauma also becomes progressively more relevant when we look at Wei Wuxian's actions towards the end of his first life - because traumatic experiences kept piling up - and when we get to the battle of Nightless City and later the first siege of the Burial Mounds, it's basically impossible to separate Wei Wuxian's actions and reactions from the trauma he'd endured up until that point.

On the other hand, the certain parts of the fandom really emphasize Jiang Cheng's trauma way beyond the point where it would be relevant to do so.

Yes, Jiang Cheng had an awful childhood because his mother was abusive towards everyone around her. And I can excuse his poor temper when he was a child based on that.

And it's true that losing his parents and sect was traumatic. However, the problem is that in Jiang Cheng's case, his trauma has frequently been used to justify and, in fact, to excuse, all the atrocities he went on to commit in his adult life.

Wei Wuxian, despite his trauma, never became the abuser. In every instance where he used violence, it was either during the war, or he was provoked first. He never took the initiative to be violent or to hurt others otherwise.

Jiang Cheng was completely different. He lashed out because of jealousy and a desire to satisfy his own ego, he betrayed Wei Wuxian and the Wen Siblings, knowing that he owed them his life. And yet, his stans will insist that his past trauma is enough to excuse this behavior. I'm not going to go into how Jiang Cheng's actions were entirely voluntary in this post. Suffice to say that the book makes it quite clear that he turned against Wei Wuxian not because Wei Wuxian's prominence hurt his ego, and the other sect leaders exploited that. But the Jiang sect wouldn't have been in danger had Jiang Cheng chosen not to turn against Wei Wuxian.

I suppose my point is that at some point, trauma can no longer excuse bad behavior. And in this case, when a sane adult chooses to commit genocide, that choice cannot be excused by anything, not even by a traumatic past. When his stans say that he was a victim, they forget about his victims. Sometimes, a victim goes on to become the perpetrator.

In the novel, several characters have extremely traumatic pasts. Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Jin Guangyao. Most characters, really.

MXTX draws very clear parallels between Wei Wuxian and several of those characters. Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao both have a lower background in a world that bases a person's value on their birth. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian both lived with Yu Ziyuan for several years, they both watched Lotus Pier fall, they both lost Jiang Yanli. Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang both came from a lower social background, they were both street kids at one point, they were both victims of societal injustice.

And yet, Wei Wuxian chose to break the cycle of abuse. No matter how much abuse he endured, how traumatic his past, he didn't go on to become the next monster, the next abuser. On the contrary, he actively chose to be kind and just and nurturing. He was only ever violent when he was forced to be so - when he had to defend himself or others. Even in Nightless City, after he'd just lost Wen Ning and Wen Qing, he wasn't the first to attack.

On the other hand, Jiang Cheng, Jin Guangyao, Xue Yang, and many others chose to continue the cycle of violence and abuse. And at some point, the trauma in their pasts can no longer excuse their later choices. Those three characters, for instance - I know there are others but I'm not going to list every single MDZS character with a traumatic past who went on to become shitty people themselves, otherwise I'd be here all day - ruined many lives themselves, often those of people who were completely unrelated to their own traumatic pasts.

And if their actions are excused because of trauma, then what about their victims? What about the Wen remnants, who were old, disabled people, and a toddler, all innocent of Wen Rouhan's crimes? What about the people Jiang Cheng captured and murdered under the suspicion of the being demonic cultivators, on the off chance of them being Wei Wuxian? And the book doesn't even confirm that those people were actually demonic cultivators, they were taken because they were suspected of being such. And nowhere in the book does it say that any of those people did anything wrong at all. And what about Qin Su and her child? What about the entire clan Jin Guangyao framed for murdering his son and exterminated under such an excuse? What about the people of Yi city? What about Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan and a-Qing? What about the nameless, innocent victims who didn't get justice?

A traumatic past can never excuse the trail of victims they left behind.

[gordonengineswifenirmal]

I was physically healthier in grade school, but I had a lot going on emotionally. I had ppl calling me trans n lesbian before it was acceptable. Im cisgender n thought I was straight at the time. (I turned out to be very asexual). I started missing school because the emotional torment was too much.

The principal n teachers thought I was hearing voices - because I could not identify the harassers. They were in a younger grade, they harassed me for years in another school before they were old enough to attend this one. I didn’t know their names. I could pick out what they looked like if I’d seen them, but they would whisper it and run away.

I have never heard voices or seen things except when I was on some bad meds for depression that really didn’t agree. Never before or after. This particular incident was long after I’d been off those meds, n hadn’t been hearing voices at all. Never heard anything at home, on the high street. Also, this was before cell phones were a thing, so I couldn’t just snap a picture of them in the hall n b like here - these ruddy bastards did it.

I nearly quit school because of it. It still triggers things to this day. This is also why I’m extreme sensitive to being misgendered. It goes far beyond JUST being proud to b who u r n whatnot. The backstory is emotionally painful. Luckily, I was able to get home schooling after a real fight for it with the district. I probably fought for that shite more than most did for an education. I then went on to get 2 degrees, n help others get theirs.

The point is -

People need to listen. Actually listen. Don’t make arrogant assumptions. Instead of snide remarks n accusations, ask questions, try to help find solutions, try to better understand the situation. That kid who is in pain n missing school, or that kid who is traumatised by school probably has a reason. They’ve been ignored n shot down so many times, they’re probably afraid to speak up. Don’t add to that. Be the difference. Believe me, it can affect them later. You can honestly b part of the problem or part of the solution. You may be able to help more than one person, n it doesn’t take much.

Sadly though, people treat older folks the way they do kids. Have the same approach - and understand that writing them off is offensive for a reason. Just like a kid wants to genuinely be heard, so do we older folks. We have life experience. You don’t want to be insulted, talked down to, patronised, n made of? Neither do we. How do u avoid this? Don’t do it. Learn to communicate better, appropriately. You want to be valued too? U won’t be by treating others like shite. And for the younger lot - one day, u will get older. You might b in a position where u r mistreated by younger folks. Just remember that.

When I say “school should be disability accessible”, I don’t just mean we need handicap rails and EAs. Kids should be able to miss a day without failing out of school. You shouldn’t be dismissed from clubs because your attendance record is “spotty” (true story). I once missed an entire week of school because of a terrible, unending migraine. I was expected to keep up with my studies despite the blinding pain that came with working on my computer. When I heard my teachers say that you couldn’t miss exams, I asked what I would have to do to be excused from them. Their response? “Either get a doctor’s note an hour before the exam or death of an immediate family member.”

I cannot express how rigid this expectation was. First of all, with my condition, I wouldn’t have enough warning about my sickness to go to the doctor and request a note. For many people, this is exceptionally difficult, especially with the current shortage of medical professionals. Next, it ignores the fact that my schedule may not line with theirs because of my medical needs. Once, I had to visit a hospital a province away (which I was on the waiting list of for over a year) on the same day as an exam. I begged my mother not to take me because I was so nervous that I would be marked as an automatic fail. I was lucky enough to make it work, but that’s only because of my spectacular support system consisting of family members and wonderful doctors.

Disabilities aren’t always about needing a bus that can accommodate wheelchairs. It’s already difficult enough for many of us to maintain school attendance without the harsh punishments involved for skipping a day. We need to be able to miss school without being punished. Only than can you claim that the school is “accessible”

[arcane-vagabond]

Two Birds: Chapter One

Two Birds: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Growing up in the midwest meant that you weren't exposed to many of the dangers of the world, and it also meant that you missed out on some of what life had to offer. Taking a leap, you move to New York City with a few personal belongings and the little money you have left in your savings. You become good friends with your roommate and, by extension, the people at the club she works at. However, it isn't long until you catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses that rule the city with an iron grip. Will you stay out of their clutches, or will you give in and become another pawn in their wicked games? (Mafia!AU)

Content Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of guilt, Gentlemen's club (off hours), Flirting, Handsy Bradley and Jake, Pet names, no use of y/n. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 3.9k

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

A couple of weeks had passed, and you were now entering your third month of living in the city. Annie had been right, you had become fast friends after long nights spent gabbing about anything and everything, and late mornings after the previous night’s binge drinking. Your roommate was a fun, happy-go-lucky soul, and you loved her all the more for it.

Your job at one of the local bakeries near the heart of the city provided you with enough money for your portion of the rent, food, and enough to spend however you saw fit, a feat you still weren’t sure how you managed. Your boss was a lovely older woman in her mid-fifties who greeted you with a smile every morning as you clocked in for your shift. Thankfully, she preferred to do the early, early morning prep work herself along with her daughter, so you weren’t expected to walk through the doors until sometime around eight every morning.

You enjoyed the tediousness of the job, the routine giving you something to latch on to in the unfamiliarity of the big city. Annie had been coaching you diligently on how to navigate the never-ending, concrete streets and sprawling subways. Your Midwest manners were quickly stamped down by your burgeoning experience with the different crowds that inhabited the city.

“Don’t walk around at night by yourself if you can avoid it,” Annie had told you during your first week there, the two of you headed back to the apartment after you had decided to go out for dinner. “There are a bunch of crazies out here, Mousie. Me? I’m used to this place, but you got that air about you that just invites people to take advantage.”

You hummed, trotting a few paces to try and keep up with her much longer legs. She cast you a sideways glance with a grimace of an apology.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it,” she sighed, hands pushed into her pockets as she slowed slightly to give you a break. “You’ll perfect the art of the ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe before you know it, Mouse.”

And you liked to think that you had come along way in the few weeks you had spent in the city, perfecting your mean, scary face so that people wouldn’t approach you. Some still did, but the number had certainly decreased. Though, you still felt the nagging feeling of guilt every time you outright ignored someone, averting your eyes and hanging your head as you walked a little faster down the street.

Today was a day you, thankfully, had off. Though, you still rose early, your body already used to the schedule of the bakery, and as you stretched in bed, your mind wandered to the container of chocolate chip cookies that sat on the counter in the kitchen. A gift from your boss, albeit they were cookies that would have been thrown in the trash anyway due to their age of only two days.

You lay in bed for the next half hour, dozing as the light of the day streamed in past your curtains, illuminating your still plainly decorated room. Annie had offered to take you shopping for more decor, but you had insisted on earning your own money and paying for your own decor.

“It’s not like I don’t have the extra cash, babe,” she told you, lips pulled back into a grimace as she watched you flit about the apartment.

“I’m serious, Annie,” you told her, glancing over your shoulder at her as you set the mop to the side. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness either.”

“How is it taking advantage if I’m offering?” She muttered with a scoff. You had shot her a warning look before placing your hands on your hips.

“I need to prove to myself that I can do this,” you sighed, feeling your shoulders slump.

“Alright, alright,” she relented, giving you an understanding smile. “But if I give you gifts, you have to accept them. It’s a law or something.”

You smiled fondly at the memory, pulling a pillow close to your chest, one of Annie’s many “gifts” as she called them. Your eyes flickered open with a stifled yawn before you lazily rolled over on to your feet. You padded out the door and down the hall to your shared bathroom, Annie’s soft snores filtering out past her closed door. Her job often kept her up until the early morning hours, and there were days where you were headed off to work just as she was walking through the door.

You brushed your teeth and got ready for the rest of the day, settling on a pair of faded jeans, a plain, white t-shirt underneath a beige cardigan and a pair of simple sneakers. You didn’t have much planned for the day, but you had been meaning to check out one of the bookstores downtown. Your groceries were getting low too, and you knew you’d have to go and get more soon, adding a trip to the grocery store to your list of things to do that day. You settled on the couch with a cup of tea, inhaling the aromatic steam that wafted up towards you as you turned on the TV, the news popping up to greet you. A string of violent crimes plagued the city, but you had slowly become accustomed to that news as well during your time there.

Eventually, you grew bored with the news, choosing instead to turn on the latest crime documentary from Netflix, the serious tones of the detectives and witnesses filling the quiet, morning air and lulling you back to a place somewhere between sleep and awake.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the sound of Annie’s door opening jolted you awake. You blinked, shuffling to sit up on the couch just as she trudged through the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes and looking around blearily.

“Wha’ time’s it?” She asked, voice thick with sleep as she rubbed her face. Her hair was sticking up every which way, her eyes still ringed with the tinges of last night’s makeup. You knew she must have had a particularly late night.

“Uh,” you started, glancing at the clock above the stove, “just before noon.”

“Shit!” She hollered out, eyes growing wide and panicked as she turned to sprint back into her room. You heard a commotion from her room before footsteps sounded in the hall, leading to the bathroom where the shower creaked to life, the spray hitting the tub. You sighed, hoisting yourself up off the couch to rinse your mug out in the sink. The shower didn’t run long, and soon you heard the creak of the valves turning off, soft thuds and movement coming from behind the door. Annie burst out, drying her hair furiously as she padded into her room wearing nothing but the small towel wrapped around her.

“Cannot believe I overslept,” she griped, her door closed just enough to provide herself some privacy as you waited in the kitchen.

“It’s a bit early for you to head down to the club, isn’t it?” You asked, brow furrowing. Usually, Annie didn’t head in for another couple of hours, and you heard her let out a huff as she appeared back in the kitchen dressed in a pair of jeans, fitted black top and matching heels. Even running late, she still looked immaculate.

“Bosses want us there extra early today to try out some new routines,” she explained.

“Bosses?” You frowned. “I thought your boss was Reuben?”

“He is,” she assured you, digging through her purse to make sure her keys were still inside. “But the big bosses are coming in today.”

“Who are the big bosses?” You asked, leaning over the counter. She paused, pressing her lips firmly together before giving you an uncertain look.

“No one you wanna get involved with, Mousie,” she said finally. “I mean, they’re nice enough guys, but…”

She trailed off, and the implication wasn’t lost on you. You offered her a tight smile, glancing at the stovetop clock once more before waving her off.

“You better get going before you’re even more late,” you warned, nodding to the time. She cursed again, shouting a quick “thanks” over her shoulder as she sped out the apartment, the door slamming closed behind her. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes affectionately after her before grimacing at the apartment. Perhaps you would make it to that bookstore another time. For now, you settled on grabbing your own purse to go grocery shopping.

You had just made it back into the apartment when your phone buzzed. You settled the bags on top of the counter, your fingers aching with the strain of the multitude of bags before fishing your phone out of your bag. Annie’s name flashed across the top, and you quickly unlocked your phone before your eyes landed on the all too familiar words.

I forgot something at the apartment.

Could you grab it for me and bring it by the club pretty please? :(

You huffed out a laugh, typing out a quick response to let her know that of course you would bring whatever it was she forgot to the club for her.

You’re the best! Came her even quicker reply, and you just knew she had been pacing nervously backstage, biting her fingers in that terrible habit she had when she was nervous.

It’s a pair of silver heels and a hot pink boa. They should be on my desk chair. You can’t miss them!

You shook your head, noting how she herself missed them in her rush out the door this morning, but dutifully made your way to her room, pushing the door open as you stepped inside. Sure enough, the heels and the boa lay draped on top of the chair in question, and you quickly gathered them up in your arms to bring back into the kitchen. You grabbed your phone, firing off a quick reply.

I’ve gotta put groceries up really quick, but then I’ll head over. Give me about an hour?

Anything for you, Mouse! I owe you!

You laughed outright at that. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for your roommate, and you often found yourself making the trip down to the club to bring her something she forgot. You set your phone down and made fairly quick work of the groceries, storing the bags underneath the sink for later use. You grabbed your things before grabbing the heels and the boa, pausing to grab the box of cookies that still sat on the counter before making your way out the door and locking it behind you.

It was about a twenty-minute train ride to the neighborhood where Annie worked, and you exited the subway with a squint as your eyes readjusted to the daylight. You walked a block south, coming upon the familiar, unassuming building with a sign that read “The Hard Deck” in a pretty, pink scrawl across the top of the entrance. A man dressed in all black stood by the door, his face mean and intimidating with eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. You grinned up at him as you approached, and a hint of a smile pulled on his lips as he caught sight of you.

“Hey Tony,” you greeted, wiggling your fingers with the hand that held the heels and the boa. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s better now that you’re here, Mouse,” he chuckled, relaxing his posture somewhat. “I take it Annie forgot something again?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, rolling your eyes playfully. “Name a time she hasn’t, you know?”

He laughed at that, his head resting against the brick of the building as he rolled his shoulders out.

“She used to tear out of here like a bat from hell before you came to town, ya know,” he grinned. “Wonder what she’s gonna do when you’re not around anymore to spoil her like this.”

“Well,” you started, “hopefully that won’t be for a while yet. Now, do you want a cookie before the others eat them all?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he laughed, pushing off from the side of the building to peek into the box you held in your hand. He grabbed one, taking a bite and humming as you walked past him and into the building.

When you had first found yourself stepping into Annie’s work, you had been apprehensive, expecting a seedy, little hole in the wall with sticky floors and tacky decor. Instead, you were greeted with a clean, sultry business that Annie told you had earned a reputation of being the best in the city.

“It’s actually pretty classy,” she had told you when you first asked her about what she did for a living. “It’s a lot of high end clients that frequent there, and they tip pretty well too. It’s decent pay to begin with and the manager is a pretty good guy too.”

You had met Reuben on one of your first trips to the club, the handsome man not being at all what you expected from a manager. He was young, for one thing, hovering somewhere between mid-thirties and forty if you had to guess. He was dressed to the nines every time you saw him, a friendly smile always on his face as he greeted you. He was nowhere to be seen now as you strolled into the Hard Dark, voices filtering out from different areas of the large room and from backstage as your eyes swept the area.

There were no windows, the only lights coming from the artificial ones that hung overhead. The main color was black, a red carpet curving across the floor and red drapes hanging from off the walls with gold accents placed everywhere. It gave a feeling of old Hollywood, almost.

“There you are!”

You turned just as Annie rushed over to you, pulling you in for a tight hug. She pulled away, grabbing her heels and boa from you.

“You’re a lifesaver, Mousie!” She beamed, and you waved her off.

“I wasn’t doing much anyway,” you told her, shifting the box of cookies into your now free hand. “I brought the cookies too for everyone.”

“You’re so sweet, babe. Come hang out with us for a while,” she cooed, pulling you further towards the main stage. Familiar faces of the different staff greeted you as you walked through, several waving and others following you once they spotted the bright pink box in your hands. You often brought goodies from the bakery, making you an instant hit with the employees at the club.

“What did you bring for us today, Mouse?” Bryan, one of the bartenders called.

“Cookies!” You called back with a smile.

“You’re such a godsend, hun,” said Lindsey, one of the other dancers. “I never have time to go to this place before it closes.”

“One of the perks of being roomies with an employee there,” Annie grinned at her, swiping a cookie as you set the box down on the stage and opened the lid. Several others clambered toward the stage to snag a cookie before retreating and allowing the next wave in. You were so caught up in the conversations happening around you that you didn’t notice the figure come out from the back.

“What’s going on here?” A deep timber asked. You noticed Annie stiffen visibly beside you before turning your head to look at the newcomer. He was tall, brown hair curled against his forehead that pointed towards a pair of golden brown eyes. Scars littered the golden skin of his face, and you couldn’t help but notice the strong muscles that lay hidden beneath his dress shirt. Your lips twitched at the sight of the mustache that hung above his upper lip, but you quickly tamped it down as you took in the nervous faces around you. He swaggered over towards where you stood, the small crowd parting easily for him, and you had to tilt your head back just to meet his gaze.

“Shouldn’t you all be working?” He pointed out. His voice was light, playful even, but the underlying warning in his tone was palpable, and all but Annie and yourself hastened to get away. You swallowed slightly, shifting uneasily at the change in the atmosphere. Annie stood still next to you, not saying a word which was unlike her.

“And who might you be?” He asked, leaning against the stage with a smirk. “Think I would have remembered a pretty face like yours. You lookin’ for a job, hm?”

“She’s my roommate,” Annie replied before you could say anything. “She’s just stopping by to drop off a few things I forgot is all.”

“Is that so?” The man hummed, peeling his eyes away from you long enough to cast her an unreadable look before they shifted back to you. “So you’re the little mouse Reuben mentioned pops by from time to time, huh?”

“I guess,” you muttered, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as you looked anywhere but at him. You felt his smirk grow as he leaned into you, his nose almost brushing yours in the process. You squeaked at the sudden proximity, eyes widening as the smell of his cologne encircled you, the scent of sandalwood, vanilla, and something woodsy ensnaring you as he spoke.

“My name’s Bradley, Mouse,” he murmured, lips curling into a sultry smile as he laced a finger through the loop of your jeans. “You gonna give me a taste?”

You had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t talking about the cookies that still sat on the stage. Without thinking, you grabbed the box, bringing it between you and Bradley, putting some distance between the two of you enough so that you could try to scramble for a coherent thought.

“Here,” you squeaked. Bradley looked stunned for a second, brown eyes wide as he looked from you, down towards the box. There was a moment of still silence before he tossed his head back with a loud laugh, one that caused several people nearby to jump. He looked back at you with a wicked grin, taking the box from your hand and putting it back on the stage with an added chuckle. He grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against him and bringing a hand up to cradle your face as he leaned down, his breath fanning over you.

“I might just have to keep you, honey,” he purred, eyes hooded as he drank you in. Your face warmed at the combination of his words and his hand around your waist that slowly started to wander.

“What are you doing, Rooster?”

You jumped at the new voice, turning your head with a gasp as your eyes landed on the stranger standing next to Reuben. His square jaw was clenched in what you could only assume was annoyance, narrowed, green eyes moving from Bradley down to you. His face softened slightly, brow arching as he took you in. You thought you saw his lips twitch in the hint of a smirk before neutrality settled over his features once more.

“Hey, Mouse!” Reuben greeted, his friendly demeanor almost unnerving. He acted as if you weren’t being held captive in the arms of a strange man, instead looking from you towards where Annie stood behind you. “I didn’t know you were stopping by today.”

“Annie forgot something,” you offered weakly, breath still ragged from how close Bradley still held you.

“Rooster,” the blond man spoke up, his voice commanding attention, “you’re scaring the poor thing. Why don’t you let her go?”

Bradley grunted but let you go slowly, shooting you a wink as you backed up a couple of steps. The blond man stepped forward, hands shoved into the pockets of his expensive looking pants as a slow smirk crawled onto his lips.

“So you’re the little mouse we’ve heard so much about,” he drawled, stopping just in front of you. You shrugged, not saying anything as you averted your gaze. The man arched a brow at you, taking a hand out of his pocket to place a finger underneath your chin, lifting it so that you met his emerald gaze.

“Words, darlin’,” he purred, something twinkling in his gaze as you looked at him. You swallowed thickly.

“Yes,” you replied, earning a hum. The man’s finger traced along your jaw before his hand cupped the side of your neck gently, almost possessively.

“Good girl,” he praised, and something inside of you unexpectedly preened at the words. He leaned forward, the smell of patchouli and a hint of citrus hitting your nose at the movement. His lips brushed against your ear as he murmured, “my name is Jake.”

A shiver ran up your spine, and you felt his lips curl into a grin at your reaction.

“Shouldn’t we be getting back to business?” Bradley snapped, looking put out as Jake withdrew from you. The blond snorted with a roll of his eyes as he stepped back towards his companions.

“Since when do you give a shit?” He asked, the challenge hollow as he kept walking, Reuben quick to fall in line behind him. Bradley frowned as he watched Jake walk past, a muscle twitching in his jaw. His eyes looked back at you, lips curving in a thoughtful smile before shooting you a wink and following his two companions.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, Annie coming up behind you quickly.

“I am so sorry,” she cried, blue eyes big and sorrowful.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked with a snort, brushing your hands down your rumpled shirt. “They’re the ones who’ve never heard of personal space, apparently.”

“Babe, do you not realize who they are?” She asked, brow furrowing as she studied you, lips pursing as she shook her head.

“Of course you don’t,” she muttered, placing a hand on her forehead as she sucked in a breath. “God, I’m so fucking stupid sometimes. How could I forget to tell you one of the most basic things?”

“Annie, what are you talking about?” You asked, crossing your arms as a sinking feeling came over you. Her eyes snapped open as she looked at you with an uncharacteristically solemn expression.

“There’s a lot more to this city than you realize,” she told you. “There are groups always grabbing for power and control of it, and right now there are two who are going head to head: the Daggers and the Harpies. You just met the two men who are in charge of the Dagger syndicate, Mouse: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin and Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. ”

Your heart sank, and your head involuntarily whipped around towards where the group of men walked off to. You spotted them sitting in one of the booths, Reuben talking animatedly about something or other, but your stomach did a flip as you realized that both Jake and Bradley were already looking at you. The blond arched a brow at you while the brunette waggled his fingers at you with a playful smirk. Annie followed your gaze, sighing before continuing.

“And it looks like you’ve gone and caught their eye.”

A/N: Still trying to figure out where to take this one ngl, but I would love to hear your thoughts about what you'd want to see!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[zsakuva]

I'm sure this has been asked, but I had found your stuff recently and absolutely love how the different characters are with each being just as charming as the next. My question is what is the thought/writing process? I am wanting to be better at defining my ocs and characters without falling into the same trope and behaviors the characters have exhibit. Obviously there are different methods for different people, but I'll like to know a little bit of the process for you. Do you have any tips to make the voices distinct and consistent through out a piece of writing?

Thank you!

For me, because I have a proclivity for world-building (meaning I am absolutely obsessed and must know the lore before I do anything), I like to understand the path a character has chosen. Their past experiences and upbringing have a dramatic impact on how they shape their own life, and that informs me of how a character acts, talks, and how they both see and react to the world around them.

I'll use Isaac Rhoades as a brief example (I wrote brief but this is not brief at all, my bad xD).

From the beginning, Isaac was written with a sealed heart and a cold personality. He's an articulate and smart man, a workaholic, but he lives in solitude.

I always ask myself how and why a character is who they are, and what decisions they made/experiences they've had to bring them to this point.

For Isaac, his background paints quite the picture:

Born to loving parents, and his grandfather is a successful private investigator — The early part of his childhood nurtured love and care. His mother in particular showed him what it meant to love unconditionally.

His parents are murdered because of his grandfather's choice — Isaac was taught that even the people you love can hurt you, and that nowhere is a safe space.

Learning under his grandfather — Because of his vast portfolio and cases, Isaac is taught more about the workings of the world, and how to stay cautious. There was no space for fun or games; his only objective was expanding his knowledge in many subjects that his grandfather deemed worthy.

Getting stabbed by the maid — This reinforced the thought of a perpetual threat and the need to stay vigilant. It instilled paranoia in him to trust no one.

University in England and Andrew — Here, he remembers the love of his childhood, but also the threat of losing someone else because of his own decisions, taught by his grandfather.

Learning the reason of his grandfather's decision — Isaac was taught that there is always more to one person, for better or worse, as taught by the maid. Due to this and what he's learnt thus far, Isaac decides to seclude himself so he's never forced to make that kind of choice.

Succeeding his grandfather — Being a private investigator opened his eyes to humanity's extremes: the lengths they would go for their own desires at the detriment of others, and the yearning others had to better the world. His work reminds him of his life experiences, and these beliefs constantly clash.

Isaac is distant and cold at first because his life taught him not to trust anyone—even the unassuming—and he doesn't want to let anyone in; they could either betray him, or he could lose them. And yet, despite that, his mother's teachings managed to peek through when he saw Pickle in the alley, alluding to his true nature. Through Isaac's story, his internal struggle begins to rear: desperately wanting to feel love again, but knowing the cost if he does give in and the inevitable choice he might have to make if he opens his heart again.

Isaac is articulate and smart because of his grandfather's teachings. One can assume he stayed in that house for the rest of his teenage years until he left for university, so the only person he really interacted with was his grandfather. Because of this, he's factual, precise, and seldom makes jokes because mostly every conversation had been connected to work in some form. Small talk is a waste of time, and he doesn't indulge others unless there's a reason for it. He's meticulous with when to speak and when to listen.

Isaac is a workaholic because that is what his life has been shaped to be, also likely influenced by his grandfather. He has money, but continues to work. Why? Perhaps it's because he'd be without purpose otherwise. Or is it because he feels it's his duty to continue in his grandfather's footsteps and find the one thing that matters in the ocean of bullshit?

All of this shapes who Isaac is. It wouldn't make sense for him to have the same disposition as Andrew. Though they are similar in ways (articulation, education, work addiction), they take different forms and stem from the unique experiences they've lived. Where Andrew can engage in small talk (he had a freer childhood, a rebellious and fun twin brother, and more public school education/social interactions), Isaac can't. And though they both carry the weight of their own regrets alone, Andrew chooses to live with what he has, but Isaac chooses to endlessly bear the weight of the world and live up to his grandfather's bravery.

SO. With that being said, a suggestion I can give is to constantly remind yourself who your character is with every decision they make. Is it true to them? Does it make sense for them? But remember, humans are also notoriously contradictive, and one is not the same as another. We experience and react to the same conditions in completely different ways; who you are and what you've been through can determine the outcome.

I hope this has helped in some form of way!

Again I apologise for this monstrous post have fun writing aaaaa-

[afniel]

Someone kind of commented on this "why not both" and I wanted to go back and be more specific about why I do not think RSD is a useful categorization as-is. I'm not gonna name them because I don't want them to feel pointed out, and given the topic I think it's important to do that and also state specifically that I'm not mad! I just want to explain this in detail.

So, let's say I'm correct and RSD is just another name for complex PTSD (CPTSD). There's evidence for that, so I'm not making a huge leap on my own. It presents with the same symptoms and responds to the same treatment, even pharmaceutically. Why not call it what it is? Recognizing it as CPTSD removes some of the stigma. It's not just "funny neurodivergent brain makes you too sad when you're criticized disorder," which is a real problem that RSD faces in being accepted as a diagnosis. Having a name that separates it from what it is, a trauma reaction that can be cripplingly severe and highly disruptive to people's quality of life, does people who live with it no favors at all. If it's considered something that only happens to people with ADHD, this separates these people from resources that could help them. Nothing in the name Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria implies that this is related to trauma. Looking for help with RSD will not get you to help with CPTSD, even if that's what it is.

And yeah, neurodivergent people often have a harder time with emotional regulation. That isn't particularly relevant to the diagnosis of (C)PTSD. Trauma is a reaction to events, not the events themselves. Trauma is the reaction when one endures a stressor that exceeds their ability to process that stress, and that capacity is highly individual and dependent on a lot of external factors as well. An event that is traumatic to one person can be just another random occurrence to another person. The quantity and quality of any given stress correlates roughly to how likely it is to be traumatic, but even among neurotypical people, there is no way to predict exactly which stressors will be traumatic and which won't. Being neurodivergent is one factor among many that influences the likeliness to experience PTSD after a traumatic event, but there is no 'special' PTSD that only people of a specific neurotype can get, only more or less common routes to it. PTSD is a pretty universal experience.

Calling it something it isn't just diminishes it. If you took a random number of neurotypical people (do not actually do this by the way!) and had people routinely yell at them for mistakes they made that were out of their control, some number of them would be traumatized and react accordingly to thinking they made mistakes later on. The only difference here is that neurodivergent people have a lot more mistake-influencing factors that they can't control, so the odds of this treatment increase, and they may be primed to have a trauma reaction more easily. That doesn't make the reaction itself special or different.

Basically, tl;dr, calling it something else makes it sound like it's just a silly little ADHD thing, not the legitimate reaction to lifelong trauma that it almost definitely is. People deserve to have their trauma recognized and treated appropriately.

being neurodivergent is all fun and games until someone is slightly critical of you and you suddenly feel physically ill

[accio-victuuri]

xiao zhan gucci mfw interview with vogue ❤️

Q: How do you feel about seeing GUCCI's fashion show again? Do you understand the message that this fashion show is trying to convey?

🐰: First of all, I just arrived in Milan the other day. This time feels very special. Because I really like the design of their venue. It's unique. The design of the venue is like the GUCCI logo and has a circular concept.

Q: How did you choose the outfit for today's fashion show?

🐰: When I just arrived in Milan, they gave me an outfit to choose from. In the end, I chose this one. I think it's quite special. It's a very sophisticated jacket, and the combination of leather and materials is very special. There are also accessories such as sunglasses and a necklace. I think it's very GUCCI.

Q: But I think the highlight should be your inner shirt.

🐰: This shirt? Hahaha, it's okay.

Q: The style is different from the last fashion show.

🐰: It's different. This time, we wanted to do something different from last time.

Q: Milan is a city you've been to many times. Before, did you walk around here or did you just work?

🐰: If I remember correctly, this should be the fourth time. Actually, every time I come here, I go for a walk. This time is the same. If I have time, I'll go for a walk.

Q: Where did you go?

🐰: A secret.

Q: Can you recommend some must-try local food for people who come to Milan?

🐰: Do you want me to recommend some?

Q: There are many good Sichuan restaurants in Milan. I even had hot pot.

🐰: Oh, look. I have no idea. I think everyone should recommend to me. Because every time I come here, I eat local food, like pizza and pasta. But I've never eaten Sichuan food in Milan.

Q: What are you having for dinner?

🐰: I haven't thought about it yet. But since you mentioned Sichuan food, I'll try to find it.

Q: I saw a tram on the street in Milan with your name on it. This is a gift that fans gave you. Have you seen it?

🐰: I saw it. I was shocked, but also very warm and touched. I have to thank them for preparing this surprise for me.

Q: Fashion is not just about clothes. What is your opinion on fashion?

🐰: After watching the fashion show today, I have a similar idea. It is a classic that has been around for a long time. Under the brand, it is distinctive and has its own uniqueness. We can still change a little bit.For example, this time I dressed quite simply, but in the past I chose contrasting colors, so I’m looking forward to the next image.

Q: When you take on different characters and gain a lot of life experience, has your idea of ​​fashion or aesthetics changed?

🐰: It hasn’t changed that much. I don’t think it’s changed much. It’s not much different from when I first debuted.

[coyote-tail-cronically-ill]

friendly reminder (specifically to doctors) that you can both have mental illness and be physically disabled at the same time, it doesn't cancel out, it's not PEMDAS!

Especially when disabled people come from all different backgrounds, different families, different home environments, it would be absurd to assume that ALL or even MOST disabled people have absolutely no mental illness. Also to mention that medical trauma is real, and being disabled can cause trauma as well, especially when you are already marginalized and are at a higher risk already of medical racism or violence, or being denied care.

People with any kind of mental illness deserve to have their medical issues addressed and treated respectfully.

I need everyone to actually treat people with addiction, schizophrenia/schizoaffective, personality disorders, etc NORMALLY and understand that 1 you can become disabled at any age and at any point in life. and 2 that regardless of mental health history physical concerns should always be addressed and assessed. stop trying to dismiss real people and real experiences because of a bias you have.

[ladyaldhelm]

This post is a very long rant about Generative AI. If you are not in the headspace to read such content right now, please continue scrolling.

....

....

It has come to my attention that a person who I deeply admire is Pro-AI. Not just Pro-AI, but has become a shill for a multi-billion dollar corporation to promote their destructive generative AI tools, and is doing it voluntarily and willingly. This person is a creative professional and should know better, and this decision by them shows a lack of integrity and empathy for their fellow creatives. They have sold out to not just their own destruction, but to everyone around them, without any concern. It thoroughly disgusts and disappoints me.

Listen, I am not against technological advancements. While I am never the first to adopt a new technology, I have marveled at the leaps and bounds that have been made within my own lifetime, and welcome progress. Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning models certainly have their place in this world. Right now, scientific researchers are using advanced AI modeling to discover new protein configurations using a program called Alpha-Fold, and the millions of new proteins that were discovered have gone on to the development of life saving cancer treatments, vaccine development, and looking for new ways to battle drug-resistant bacterial infections. Machine learning models are being developed to track and predict climate change with terrifying accuracy, discover new species, researching new ways of dealing with plastic waste and CO2/methane, and developing highly accurate tools for early detection of cancers. These are all amazing advancements that have only been made possible by AI and will save countless millions of lives. THIS is what AI should be used for.

Generative AI, however, is a different beast entirely. It is problematic in many ways, and is destructive by its very nature. All the current models were trained on BILLIONS of copyrighted materials (images, music, text), without the creator's consent or knowledge. That in and of itself is highly unethical. In addition, these computers that run these GenAI programs use an insane amount of resources to run, and are a major contributor to climate change right now, even worse than the NFT and blockchain stuff a few years ago.

GenAI literally takes someone's hard work, puts it into an algorithm that chews it up and spits out some kind of abomination, all with no effort on the part of the user. And then these "creations" are being sold by the boatload, crowding out legitimate artists and professional creatives. Artists like myself and thousands of others who rely on income from art. Musicians, film makers, novelists, and writers are losing as well. It is an uphill battle. The market is flooded right now with so many AI generated art and books that actual artists and writers are being buried. To make matters worse, these generated works often have inaccuracies and spread misinformation and and lead to injury or even death. There are so many AI generated books, for example, about pet care and foraging for plants that are littered with inaccurate and downright dangerous information. Telling people that certain toxic plants are safe to eat, or giving information on pet care that will lead to the animal suffering and dying. People are already being affected by this. It is bad enough when actual authors spread misinformation, but when someone can generate an entire book in a few seconds, this gets multiplied by several orders of magnitude. It makes finding legitimate information difficult or even downright impossible.

GenAI seeks to turn the arts into a commodity, a get-rich-quick money making scheme, which is not the point of art. Automating art should never be the goal of humanity. Automating dangerous and tedious tasks is important for progress, but automating art is taking away our humanity. Art is all about the human experience and human expression, something a machine cannot ever replicate and it SHOULDN'T. Art should come from the heart and soul, not some crap that is mass produced to make a quick buck. Also developing your skills as an artist, whether that is through drawing, painting, sculpture, composing music, songwriting, poetry, creative writing, animation, photography, or making films, are not just about human expression but develop your brain and make you a more well rounded person, with a rich and deep experience and emotional connection to others. Shitting out crappy art and writing just to make a quick dollar defeats the entire purpose of all of that.

In addition, over-reliance on automated and AI tools is already leading to cognitive decline and the deterioration of critical thinking skills. When it is so easy to click a button and generate a research paper why bother putting the work in? Students are already doing this. Taking the easy way out to get a grade, but they are only hurting themselves. When machines do your thinking for you, what is there left to do? People will lose the ability to develop even basic skills.

/rant

By the way if any tech bros come at me you will be blocked without warning. This is not up for debate or discussion.

[ctrl-alt-tahu]

So, I finished reading this post right as the alarm went off for me to make supper, and if that alarm hadn't gone off, it would probably have been subsumed in "the Scroll," but instead it had a chance to really sit and stew while I was cooking and putting the dishes away and...

I am fond of Fiddler on the Roof. I grew up with it, because we lived too far out of the city to get over-the-air TV and my parents didn't spring for cable or satellite. Instead, I grew up with videos, and because my mom loved the musicals of her childhood (think: Rodgers and Hammerstein--she was born in 1961), this was one of them.

I'm not Jewish at all. To borrow a phrase from my favourite author, "I can only reply that I regret that I appear to have no ancestors of that gifted people." Indeed, I grew up sufficiently far from urban centers that I don't know of having ever met anyone Jewish until after I left high school. My experience of Judaism was exclusively filtered through the Christian Bible and media--so Fiddler on the Roof was arguably rather important.

Certainly, I didn't understand what was going on the way someone Jewish would--I was the Catholic in-law in the earlier posts. And, as kids go, I was non-American enough and nerdy enough to have some interest in history, so I eventually had some idea what a pogrom, but I didn't get it; I didn't see the whole movie as a horror story. But I did recognise that it was a downer ending. I couldn't have articulated why, probably because I didn't see what a Jewish viewer did through the first parts of the film. But the ending did cast a shadow back over it. If nothing else, it yanked a the film from being a comedic set in la-la-land firmly back into reality. It kind of worked, if you didn't know what the Jewish viewers know, like the abrupt end of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, but backwards.

I haven't thought too much about Fiddler in the intervening score of years, but if I did, it was sort of through that lens of being a kid and of it taking place "a thousand years ago" (rounding). Like, I sort of knew it had really happened... ish... to real people, but it wasn't something I thought about.

But now?

I'm still not Jewish (sorry--though I have been tempted). But I understand more than I understood as a preteen. Maybe it's the resurgence of Czarist Russia in the early 2020s... maybe it's the "rise of Fascism" vibe of the current "roaring" 20s... I don't know, but it doesn't feel like real life "back then." It feels like real life right now.

I'm absolutely floored that it's supposed to be set in 1905. This is what churned around in my butter-tub of a head putting away the dishes. As a kid, I had thought it set about 1880. I don't know why and I don't know what difference that 25 years would make--the last 25 years have flown by way too fast--but it made the difference I guess in my head that Fiddler was a period piece to me, rather than something "20th century."

The movie was released in 1971. That means a 10 year-old kid in 1905 was only 76. A 20-year-old (say... Tevye's daughter), would have only been in her mid-80s. In other words, the pogroms were in living memory.

(As an aside, the nearness of history shouldn't shock me, but it constantly does. In this case, it really shouldn't shock me. My own non-Russian great-grandparents were ALSO fleeing Russia in the 1900/1910s. I even sort of knew that as a kid. I just... didn't put it together.)

The tsarist pogroms are out of living memory now--barely. I don't think I ever really thought about what the end of living memory meant, but in my lifetime, living memory has ended for a few things (not all of them serious): the Victorian era and WWI, for example, and now we're fast going to see more things pass. All of which is to say that all things I and my generation assumed because we grew up "in living memory of" can't be assumed.

The span from the pogroms to today isn't even two lifetimes, but it only takes one to forget.

Dear God, did you have to send me news like that, today of all days? I know, I know we are The Chosen People, but once in awhile, can't you choose someone else?

[anemonia13]

I feel like we don't really see that Daniil Dankovsky is a human in a very bad situation, simultaneously coming as a loser and as a winner. When I see people talking about Daniil's character (or even arc) it's either solely about him being an ultimate winner and all people around are just haters who don't get it, or about him being an ultimate loser who should not be defended at all. What I wanted to say is: the Bachelor's Pathologic Classic arc is not as plain as some people say.

What do I mean? Imagine, you are running your own laboratory, which goal seems nearly impossible but most noble to say the least: to defeat death itself and grant people the right to die not when "the time comes", but whenever they actually feel ready to. But of course achieving it could not be easy or ethical; logically, you have to interact with dead bodies, experiment with them (and living beings too) in many different ways, probably not all of them being socially acceptable, and most morally important: your ultimate goal goes against the nature laws themselves. Obviously, it may fascinate someone, but a lot of people won't like your and your partner's actions, including the government. The scandal eventually heats up so much that your life's work is threatened with being cut off entirely (with you probably stop being a celebrity and a genius and turning into an enemy of the people).

And then, like a gift from God personally, you receive a letter from some town in the middle of nowhere, casually saying there is an immortal man living here. And so, you are standing on the enge of the abyss; your life's work is about to perish, and only a miracle can save it. And couldn’t an immortal man be the very miracle that would certainly open everyone’s eyes to the reality of your theory and make the greatest scientific breakthrough of the century? Of course, in despair, you will immediately leave everything behind and rush after him like a drowning man after the last straw.

And then everything collapses again before your eyes. The immortal man died along with the one who wrote about him, and you haven't even got a chance to speak to any of them, and the people around you seem to be starry-eyed, AND by a complete accident you are now stuck in this godforsaken place because it was suddenly revealed that they died from a terrible mysterious disease. You are a doctor, a scientist, a bachelor of medicine, and you are the one who has to deal with this now. What? You don't want to? You ask people when the train arrives? Oh, what a shame, but now you have no choice: the government has dropped on your shoulders the lethal weight of the responsibility for every death and every wrong event in this town under the auspices that if you manage to defeat the disease, then MAYBE your life’s work will not be turned to dust. You may not have planned to fight the unknown plague, but now you have to do it.

See? And that's just the start of his plot. He almost impulsively arrived to the Town-on-Gorkhon because he needed to save his idea AT THE MOMENT. Before it gets shattered to pieces. He never wished to fight The-Most-Horrible-Pathogen-To-Ever-Exist, no, he was aiming to meet a literal living miracle.

He did not succeed. Neither he met the immortal man, nor he defeated the plague, and it remains unknown if he at least saved his laboratory. He lost a lot, a LOT. In fact, he only won in what he initially did not and could not count on (the Polyhedron turned out to be a new possible source of human immortality, but could Daniil have thought about it himself?)

That's the metamorphosis. He loses everything he had before he sees the light at the end of the tunnel. His ultimate goal of defeating death may not have changed, but his beliefs and methods did, as he was forced to watch his work burn before getting a chance to start anew. He has to accept what he initially rejected and turn his mindset on 90°. His arc is about a defeat, a search, a metamorphosis and a BITTER victory. Yes, Daniil Dankovsky is a loser, but have you seen what he achieved by the end? And yes, Daniil Dankovsky is a winner, but have you seen how many defeats precede this?

Initially this text was going to be much more... filled with resentment and anger for all the misconceptions I saw about the Bachelor, but turned out to be a much simpler analysis on his character arc, which I've seen being mashed with dirt by many people in the community. Hope you enjoyed.

Btw I see a symbolism here; snakes are often associated with a new start, a shed into something better, and I think everyone already knows what animal the Bachelor is highly represented with.

[holywizardheart]

How people perceive you?

This reading is for entertainment purposes so don't take it too seriously. Try to concentrate on yourself and pick intuitively one of these gifs. Hope yall enjoy my short tarot reading ;)

1 Pile

People can perceive you as intimidating and scary in some way. They can have chilling thoughts about you that may make them anxious and afraid to form personal connections. I can see that some of them can overthink and see you through the lengths of rose-colored glasses. Others can just view you as a threat or someone really hard to get along with on friendly terms. Moreover, people can keep their distance from you due to their inner doubts and fears that can be present in their minds. Also, I can point out that people can make a deep analysis or calculations of your personality before introducing themselves to you. For some of you, people may try to avoid your presence because they feel unsafe around you.

2 Pile

I can clearly say that people can show their curiosity and interest towards you. Maybe make some grand gestures or take action to get to know you as a person. It can also play off as something that you weren’t even expecting at all like people randomly trying to talk to you or have some little chat out of a sudden. Some of them can perceive you as someone unpredictable and extraordinary like “try to guess what am I gonna do next”. People can feel confused about your image like you can act differently on various occasions. Maybe they may have a hard time finding out information about you because they usually contradict each other.

3 Pile

From this card, I can tell that people can perceive you as someone who is goal-oriented and has a lot of courage and passion. Someone who comes across as extremely motivated and takes a lot of steps to achieve their goals. However, people may also view you as stubborn and fixed in their principles that can’t be changed. My way or the highway type of mindset I’m noticing from this card. I can also note that you don’t give up on your aims easily and try your best to accomplish them even though you face a lot of obstacles and challenges in your journey. People can definitely highlight your determination and high willpower in your personality. On the other hand maybe for some of you, it can play out as being strongly attached to the past or hard time letting go of past experiences.

4 Pile

I don’t know why but people can perceive you as someone greedy and stingy with their material resources. People can notice your interest in the material world and high concentration on the money aspect of life. It sort of sounds like you’re the material girl in people’s eyes. People may think that you have ulterior motives that you’re trying to conceal for some reason. You tend to hide a lot about your goals and generally about your personal life. I guess you don’t like to reveal about yourself at all. Plus I can also mention a deep attachment to things that you personally value and it can be hard to let them go. Maybe it’s because you really appreciate stability and security in your life.

[endlesslyhyperfixating]

Oh, Carmy, Carmy, Carmy. The man who can turn a beef sandwich into a Michelin-worthy masterpiece but can't seem to manage his own mental health. Season three of *The Bear* has been a rollercoaster of culinary highs and personal lows, with Carmy spiraling into the very chaos he once sought to escape. But then, in the season three finale, enter Chef Terry—Andrea Terry, if you will—a beacon of wisdom in a sea of culinary turmoil.

As Ever's doors prepare to close, Chef Terry imparts a nugget of wisdom to Carmy: "You have no idea what you're doing, and therefore, you're invincible." At first glance, it might sound like a chef's version of a pep talk gone awry. But let's break it down, shall we?

Throughout the season, Carmy has been haunted by the ghost of Chef David Fields, his former mentor who believed in the "tough love" — or realistically more like abusive — approach to culinary excellence. Fields' methods left Carmy with ulcers, panic attacks, nightmares, trauma doomed to be repeated in an abusive cycle, and a fun memory of the chefs general disdain for black pepper. In contrast, Chef Terry embodies a nurturing spirit, emphasizing the importance of people over perfection. Her mantra, "Every Second Counts," isn't about relentless pressure; it's about cherishing the moments and the people who make them meaningful. The BACKSTORY of her famous mantra is even tender and born in sweetness and family, a start difference to what was Carmy's experience with Chef Fields.

By telling Carmy he's invincible because he doesn't have it all figured out, Chef Terry is giving him permission to embrace uncertainty. She's encouraging him to let go of the need for control and perfection, to trust his instincts, and to lead with empathy rather than fear. This is the antithesis of the Carmy we've seen in season three—a man so consumed by the pursuit of excellence that he alienates those around him, and begins to lose himself in the middle of his unprocessed trauma through the only thing he knows which is working the human away.

"The more people I cut out, the quieter my life got"

Okay, my self isolating king!

But lets take, for instance, his interactions with Sydney. Instead of fostering a collaborative environment, as he often claims this season, Carmy often undermines her, believing his way is the only way. It's not how it starts in season two and the beginning of season three however, where they work shopped the menu together (despite his changing it everyday [🙄])This dynamic leads to tension and missed opportunities for growth. Chef Terry's advice serves as a wake-up call for him: it's okay not to have all the answers. In fact, embracing the unknown can lead to unexpected brilliance.

Richie has done to understand and he's tried to embrace in his own personal journey, and that difference in character is also what's keeping their divide all season, their serious lack of communication causing a strain in their relationship. But the strains present because they do truly love each other(this is a rant for another day)

I digress, this season concludes with a cliffhanger—Carmy's reaction to a seemingly mixed review from the Chicago Tribune—it's clear that change is on the horizon. Chef Terry's words are a catalyst for Carmy's evolution. They signal a shift from a leader driven by fear and perfectionism to one who leads with heart and humility. This transformation is essential for the survival and success of The Bear.

Not only chef Terry's words, but I believe and hope that when he finds out about SYDNEYS OFFER from Shapiro.

Ooph, oh boy that'll be a wake up call.

In essence, Chef Terry's parting words are a gift—a reminder that vulnerability and imperfection are not weaknesses but strengths. For Carmy, embracing this philosophy could be the key to unlocking not only his potential but also the true essence of what it means to be a chef.

Terry's vulnerability and tenderness is similar to Sydney's all throughout the series, especially season three(even referring back to the first episode when she encourages him to call Richie to make things right between them. The relationship that matters. Not Claire.)

If and (hopefully) when Carm finds out about Sydneys potential leaving, this will be a real pushing point for him to out into action Terry's words, realize that his control and repeated cycle of everything he's been through needs to change.

Just as Syd expressed early on in season one, The a bear became the very thing she wanted to escape from. People yelling and pushing, the constant chaos of what their industry is. And she and Carm both knew and still know that it can be different.

And Sydney has that opportunity with Shapiro, but Carmy will totally freak without her to enact that change.

Phew.

Anyways, I can't wait to see the post-review chaos, and hopefully some real growth on Carmy's end.

Season four, anyone?