#physically how would i not care

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[artgletic]

hopelessly romantic over the concept of information

[naamahdarling]

You know what? You know what I think?

I think that if we lived as we were meant to, in larger intimate ("extended family") groups and with more shared labor and time to do it (UBI NOW) people like me would not feel so useless and burdensome because there would be people around to help and to do what neurodivergent people can't while making valuable space for the neurodivergent to do what they ARE good at.

The way we live right now, all right, the way we live right now forces units of two adults to be able to do EVERYTHING or PAY to have someone come do it for them. I have to do the housework. I have to do it! But I am having to do a million different things and most of them I am not good at. I suck at them.

I wouldn't feel like shit, okay, if I had more than one other person around who was not a child and who could do the things I can't, like do the yard and cook and do repairs and basic maintenance; and someone else to split everything else that I like but is too much for me. It would free me to do what I am good at and enjoy. Cleaning, as in the sink and toilet, the windows, the blinds. Taking out trash. Folding, hanging, and sorting laundry.

But because all the shit I can do often relies on other shit being done first, and I can't do or have trouble doing those things, the shit I can do often can't be done. And even the shit I can do, I can't do ALL of it. So I can't keep up, and things get very bad.

We aren't meant to live like this. We are not meant to live like this.

That thought hurts so much because being able to flee the birth family is integral to survival for so many people. I'm so afraid that living in larger family groups would create more opportunities for, say, queer kids to be isolated, rejected, bullied, and abused. But if we gave people enough money to survive, and stopped considering children the property of their parents with no system in place to help them escape bad situations except a system that is often just as bad, just different.

I'm aware that communes and collectives aren't all that successful and are kind of a joke. I don't mean that. I mean a fundamental shift to multigenerational families where taking in "strays" (which my family did) is also normalized so people escaping abuse into existing households was accepted, with these families centered in maybe a couple of different larger residences so not everyone has to buy and maintain their own fucking washing machine and vacuum cleaner, and so people can benefit from large group meals that yield leftovers, and so child and elder care can also be centralized.

Then disabled people and the neurodivergent and sick and injured people, and pregnant people, and grieving people, would not have to either labor through all those stressors or consign themselves to living off an unlivable pittance or being put under legal guardianship.

I'm not saying anything new. People live like this in other parts of the world and maybe it sucks and I am wrong. But I'm just really mad right now because I can either do laundry or clean the sink but not both, and I really think we could improve society somewhat by making it so I did not have to choose one without sacrificing the other.

[senseearly]

One thing that I always think about post-dungeon recovery Mithrun who got home is that people were probably used to talking about him while he was still in the room.

Misiril's squad used to that when he was still in their care. Questions towards him were quickly redirected to others when he wouldn't (couldn't) answer their questions -- where was the rest of his squad? what happened to the demon? how did he even end up like this? Asking or talking to Mithrun is a pointless effort. So they stopped doing that.

And Mithrun, he's gotten used to this set-up, not like he could bring himself to care.

When his caretakers and visiting family started doing it, he continued to be apathetic to them (although, the numbness from this large, gaping hole in his chest makes him think that he used to care).

The caretakers would do their duties, but behind his back, they would probably gossip about Mithrun's chances of recovery. Others think there is still hope, a lot of them think this is going to be permanent. Which is good, at least to their business, because Mithrun's brother pays a lot to make sure he is alive. And Mithrun...is not in the state to do that himself. They at least try to whisper when they're around Mithrun, keep their voices low or mention him under an alias or a codename. But Mithrun knows they are talking about him. He is the elephant in the room.

His visiting family is less nice. They take one look at him and weep -- not out of worry, or pity, or sadness -- but of shame. There is no way they can show him to others anymore, they bemoan. There is no way he can represent himself as a member of the House of Kerensil, they cry. He's just like his brother! And, once upon a time, that comment would've hurt Mithrun, a stab right into his heart. But all he feels is a gaping numbness that cannot be filled (It used to be full, he can't help but think).

I wish he had died, someone from his family said while he was within earshot. And Mithrun, barely alive but still breathing, cannot bring himself to care.

The only person that I think would be delighted to see him alive, at least, is his brother. I can see him visiting Mithrun whenever he can (at least in elf time terms). Talking to him as if he can respond, asking him about things when Mithrun can't bring himself to answer. At some point, Mithrun's brother stopped talking to him when he visits; instead, he would just sit next to Mithrun and watch the birds and the flowers. He would drink tea and Mithrun would do nothing.

But once in a while, Mithrun's brother would tell him, I'm glad you came home, I'm glad you're still alive.

[noxcheshire]

Might be blasphemy within the Danny Phantom fandom but I just cannot see Danny x Sam being an actual ship regardless of it being canon in the actual show and now book.

Even as a kid I thought it was weird and couldn’t figure out why that bothered me, and I think now it’s because I never saw any indication of Sam or Danny ever being actually romantically attracted with each other. To be fair I saw that show when I was little, and maybe I’ll see those romantic moments that the show was building to if I can find actual length videos of the episodes.

But at this moment, I can’t recall ever having seen it.

And it baffles me, because I kinda don’t feel like Sam really loved Danny, even as a friend. And I think that really showed in the episode with her wish that changed the structure of time and space so that Danny never died and she was never friends with Danny and Tucker.

If she loved Danny, regardless if it was as a potential lover or friend, she would never have allowed him to die. Not once, but twice.

The first, okay, it was an accident. Kids do dumb things all the time, the more potentially dangerous it is the better — but the second time? The second time was deliberate.

She put him into that suit, without explanation, and without assurance. Nothing but a change of his hero signature.

She didn’t hesitate to let him die again, instead of asking herself if she could stomach watching him go through that again.

What person who loved you could do that to you? Could stand to see you go through that pain?

I feel a good example of love as well, especially in the show, is Jazz. She loves Danny, as a sibling, as a friend, and with all that love she would choose to walk herself into that portal then to let Danny do it instead.

She shows that deep love for Danny to the audience by choosing to protect him from their parents so they would never know he is the ghost boy that they want to rip apart molecule by molecule because she doesn’t want to take the chance of loosing him twice.

Jazz wanted to do that.

So why couldn’t Sam?

[artoriarts]

I think that being alone in frasco made aba a very sensory-oriented person. and that translates a lot into how she shows affection, especially given paracelsus, while he can be hugged or kissed or humped, can’t really reciprocate too terribly much and probably doesn’t feel it as vividly or in the same way as those of biological body. basically what I’m saying is aba does asmr for paracelsus as a form of intimacy

[sorrelpaws]

no offense but i genuinely fear that their potential dynamic will go severely underutilized

[dirtytransmasc]

I think I need MelVik connecting when Viktor was on his sick bed. they had been amicable before, maybe a little more than that due to their connection through Jayce and her presence around Hextech and such. but they weren't entirely friends. not yet.

and she goes to see him. perhaps she feels a tinge of guilt at assuming the worst about Jayce, or her bleeding heart makes her feel responsible for keeping Jayce out of the lab when Viktor had needed him. maybe Jayce needs to step out for a moment, and she soothes his worry by promising to sit with Viktor. maybe she just wants to be closer to the man that's so painfully important to the one she loves, wants to befriend him, wants to know him, all before it's far too late.

maybe it's a little bit of each.

but she goes to see him. she sits in the chair that Jayce has nearly worn a hole through, and keeps a semi-awkward distance between them, not knowing what is too close and too far.

this man is dying. he is dying and he has accepted that. he looks like a corpse. cold emanates off of him. he is something she doesn't fully understand.

she doesn't know how to approach.

but she does.

she greets softly and speaks softly and hesitates to touch, but rests a hand over Viktor's and feels how cold he is, even as a sickly warmth brews in his bones, leeching the warmth from his skin and the energy from his body.

he seems surprised she's there. it feels out of place. like the song and dance of their dynamic has shifted, and now he needs to relearn the steps. and now this is a dance of two, not three.

she will tell Viktor, in enough detail to be understood and not enough to be awkward, where Jayce was. because it feels right to confess. it's not an apology, but the avoidance of keeping something like a secret from a dying man.

Viktor will probably just nod and say something self deprecating, because what else do you say when your body is already making a joke of itself? before assuring her that Jayce is not his keeper, that she is not to blame, but even that comes off as some twisted attempt at humor. sue him for being sardonic as he lay dying.

but unlike Jayce, who will cringe at the jokes, she will hide a smile behind her fingers, muffling a soft, if not saddened, chuckle in her palm.

Viktor's eyes will light up ever so slightly.

she'll feel awkward once more. should she have laughed? was this playing into a complex? was this right of her?

Viktor will smile weakly.

she'll feel a little less awkward.

she will realize Viktor needs someone to laugh with. that Jayce, bless his soul, cannot be that person for Viktor. his worry has brewed too long. it's too strong.

but maybe a fresh face like Mel's can be there to smile when Jayce cannot. will laugh when Jayce cannot. can make cheeky jokes and pokes and prods.

the three fit together like 3 pieces of 3 broken puzzles. they fit together, not perfectly, but they fit, and create a finished object, even if off kilter her and uneven there. but it's ok, they're making due.

[dykedvonte]

Honestly I see Jimmy's refusal to put Curly out of his misery less about his weird feelings of envy or his delusions but the fact Curly is all but stated to be a shield to Jimmy from his actions and people seeing the worst in him.

The only characters that Jimmy really interacts with one on one before the crash are Curly and Anya, two individuals he has wildly different relationships with. It's likely that Curly really did most of the talking between them as the pilots and the rest of the crew as staff. They didn't know of Jimmy's more reprehensible behaviors cause they never really had the chance to and Jimmy is subconsciously aware. If they had disliked him more than Anya would have told Swansea earlier or even Daisuke when things got really bad.

It's why he takes the immediate opportunity to blame Curly; He's the shield. He's saved Jimmy's ass more times than he can count and more times than Jimmy would ever admit. Even when he can't really do it anymore, he mentally shields himself from his own faults by putting Curly between them. Letting Curly die puts too much on him because he doesn't know how to function without a safety net.

In the end Curly only lives because Jimmy needs the idea that Curly will inevitably make things better to stay alive, meaning Curly has to live, no matter how much it pains him to do so.

[spicyraeman]

I'm getting laid off at the end of this week :]

[cent-scratchnsniff]

it was just going to be a few warmup doodles but then she infected the rest of the page like the ever eternal and spreading spores. hod!!! hod. hod :)

[mrs-gauche]

The Mirror of Transformation being at the Lighthouse is so funny to me, because for one, why would Solas even obtain that, and second, I now have to ask myself if he ever considered using it himself, but then was like "Where's the thrill and fun in disguising as a bard or whatever if there's not even a risk of getting exposed". lmao

[aprito]

The way that Sakura is inspired after cherry blossoms with both her name and appearance, and the cherry blossoms symbolise the transience and impermanence of life due to their short life spans. Sasori fights against a girl who represents the fleeting nature of life which completely contrasts his obsession with immortality and skurhliexbkjgfswgblpeq

LOVE that Sakura clowns on Sasori's fuckass stupid beliefs not only with her skill set but also with her entire existence. He was untouchable until he wasn't, he was smart until he wasn't, he was apathetic until he wasn't in the span of like, an hour. The best part being that the thing that ultimatively makes her so strong (her humanity and affection and care towards Chiyo) is the one thing he can't have and would absolutely lose if he were to turn her into one of his liveless bum bitch puppets.

She really is the ultimate troll. We love her.

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[slime-crafters]

Gonna be real, I think Link deserves to have a panic attack. Just a full-blown mental deteriorating, absolute heart-wrenching scene of him absolutely losing his shit. I'm just thinking like... Imagine Link learning about what happened to Zelda in TotK and his response being something like falling to his knees, something to show that he can't Take It anymore

I want this twink to absolutely crumple.

[da-janela-lateral]

At this point I don't think Teruki's parents are exceptionally horrible individuals (long-term psychological consequences still happen in cases in which the abuse isn't considered particularly severe + everyone is capable of harm, even "good" people), but they weren't the best, without a doubt.

Okay, they got too busy with their jobs and had to move overseas to progress on their career. External circunstances. Things that happen. They left their son behind, but that could always be justified by hectic schedules of ever-moving businesspeople. How else could he have a stable routine to focus on his future? They're just busy. Teruki hasn't seen them in long but that's not their fault, right?

They cared for Teruki, didn't they? His parents made sure that there was someone home to watch him whenever they were far away. It was inevitable that there would be times he would be with himself, though. But that's not bad! It only became a problem once those strange espers tried to take hold of him on the street. And even then, they were so weak he could barely give them the title of a psychic. It wasn't an issue that it happened more and more and there was no one to intervene. Or that Teruki had to torture descriptions of "Claw organization" and "brainwashed soldiers" out of these grownups to know what they wanted with him. His parents couldn't know. Why should they know? Better put: what could they do?

What could a normal person do against someone with psychic powers?

It was Teruki's choice to live by himself. He could manage it all. Contrary to the other kids, he was an independent and responsible young man who could be trusted with a house and money. Such a great boy. His parents were so proud to have someone as competent as him as a son, one which wouldn't mean hard work for them. One who always had the best grades and was the soccer team's best player and was the best student on the town's best middle school.

Of course they would suddenly allow Teruki to live on his own. Any parent with a child like him would, wouldn't they? Anyone on their right mind and who knew the slightlest about him would be sure he could do it.

And even if this "Claw" organization scared him a bit and he felt a bit lonely at times, it wasn't an issue. Issue would mean it was an obstacle - which it wasn't, as Teruki did perfectly on his own. His parents believed on so. That's why he had his own apartment at 12 on the first place. Teruki was so wonderful at this. It wasn't horrible if they didn't answer his calls, because they were so busy and he wasn't a little kid who depends on his mommy. None of this was their fault. He shouldn't bother them or himself over this.

Because they cared, right? On the end, it was only a pile of tragic circunstances and coincidences no normal person could act against. It was part of life as someone special like him. He couldn't expect that his parents could change any of this, and this made his loneliness the best possible choice. It was obvious that they would support such a decision.

What would a normal person do against someone with psychic powers?