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hyperlexichypatia · 2 months ago

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I've seen basically two response arguments to Kennedy's slurs about autistic people being unable to pay taxes, have a job, play baseball, go on a date, write a poem, or use the toilet.

Both the responses are good and necessary, but I think they're incomplete. The two response arguments are essentially: 1. "That's not true, there are plenty of autistic people who have jobs and go on dates and play baseball," and 2. (largely in response to 1.) "Autistic people deserve acceptance and dignity even if they can't pay taxes or write poetry or use the toilet; people's value isn't determined by their abilities or productivity."

And, again, both of these responses are true and good and necessary. But what I'm not seeing people talk about enough is why Kennedy listed those specific skills, and what he's trying to imply with them. Because, see, when people are reduced to a dehumanized stereotype, "Not everyone is like that dehumanized stereotype" isn't sufficient, and neither is "Even people who are like that dehumanized stereotype deserve respect." The problem is the dehumanization. So let's look at the list of things we supposedly can't do, which Kennedy is using to conjure an image of "Inhuman Unthinking Blob."

Having a job. This is the big one. In American culture, your value, your personhood, is solely dependent on Your Job. Are you a valuable cog in the capitalist machine, or are you a cheap cog in the capitalist machine, or are you so worthless you're not even in the capitalist machine, and therefore have no reason to be alive? So it's good and necessary and important to spell out "A person doesn't have to have a job to be a person with dignity and rights." But there's a larger question out there, which is: What, exactly, constitutes "a job"? Yes, absolutely, everyone should have dignity and rights (and material needs like guaranteed housing, food, and consensual healthcare). But also, most disabled people, including ""severely"" disabled people, can and do perform productive labor benefiting their communities. It's just often labor that capitalist society doesn't classify as "a job," like caregiving, studying, or making art. It's important to say that people shouldn't need "a job" in order to deserve rights or resources. It's also important to point out that disabled people have been doing labor this whole time, just without the dignity, rights, or pay associated with "a job." In a socialist utopia where everyone had their material needs guaranteed, labor would still be done, and a lot of it would still be done by disabled people. That's important. Disabled people's contributions to society matter. And erasing that is something ableists do on purpose -- excluding the labor done by disabled people from the category of "job" is integral to excluding disabled people from the category of "productive" and thus the category "worthy of life."

Paying taxes. This is the most transparently ridiculous one, because absolutely everybody in the U.S. pays taxes. Poor people pay taxes (too much). Rich people pay taxes (nowhere near enough). Undocumented immigrants pay taxes. You buy a Snickers? It's priced $1.79 but you pay $1.92. That's a tax. You live somewhere? You're paying property taxes. You rent your home? How do you think your landlord pays their property taxes? From your rent. You're paying property taxes. You have a crappy underpaid minimum wage job? You're paying FICA. Everybody pays taxes. What Kennedy probably means to imply is "They're too poor to owe federal income taxes." Politicians love pretending that "taxes" means "federal income taxes" so they can claim to "lower taxes" while shifting the tax burden somewhere else (cf. Trump's attempt to claim that tariffs aren't taxes). And. And also. There's another subtle implication in there, that I see a lot from parents and ableists. Because of the deep intersection of ableism and classism, Kennedy is implying "They're too poor to owe federal income taxes" (therefore they're inferior) but also "They're not smart enough to do something complicated like file a tax return." When ableists talk about disabled people who "can't take care of themselves" or specifically "can't pay their bills" or "can't pay taxes," they're intentionally trying to conflate an economic state (having enough money to pay bills/taxes) with a cognitive ability (having the skills/executive function to manage money, budget, pay bills on time, or file a tax return). Kennedy probably doesn't file his own tax return either. I'm sure he has an accountant for that. Presumed-neurotypical people are allowed to do that. The world is full of rich people who lack executive function or money-management skills, whose wealth insulates them from the consequences of that, because they can either afford to just lose money, or they can afford to hire someone to handle it for them. The world is also full of poor people for whom one missed payment has ruined them. The world is also full of disabled people for whom one missed payment has gotten them declared mentally incompetent, institutionalized, or placed under guardianship -- by abled family members who probably hire an accountant to manage their own money. Again, all this is deliberate. Kennedy and other ableists/classists/eugenicsts are intentionally trying to conflate "lacks money," "lacks money management abilities/skills," and "lacks General Intelligence" as one more-or-less interchangeable phenomenon (Note: If you've read this far and haven't figured out my angle yet: There is no such thing as "General Intelligence" and the very concept is harmful).

Write a poem. Again, this is deliberately ambiguous wording -- pretty much anyone can write a poem, including people who can't write or speak. Have you ever expressed an idea in which the words you used had an additional meaning on top of their literal meaning? Boom, you can write a poem. Maybe not a good one. But Kennedy didn't say that autistic people's poetry is bad -- plenty of neurotypical people's poetry is bad too, after all. There is a somewhat positive stereotype floating around that neurodivergent people are creative. We may be tragic, burdens on society, our parents' heartbreak, worthless, stupid, subhuman, but at least we're creative. Probably due to being more animal-like, "closer to nature." And neurobigots like Kennedy absolutely hate this stereotype. No matter how much dehumanization the "positive" stereotype is rooted in, we cannot have any positive attributes at all. They must never let us forget that we have no redeeming value whatsoever. We must be rendered as completely lacking in thought, feelings, expression, and creation. I'm seeing some echos of 18th century racism, too -- a common belief among 18th century white Europeans was that even if non-Europeans were superficially clever, they could produce no "higher culture," no great art or poetry or literature, because they were intrinsically a lower tier of human. This seems to be the root of Kennedy's implication -- not that autistic people "can't" write poetry (anyone can), or that autistic people are bad at writing poetry (most beginners are), but that an autistic person's creative output cannot constitute true poetry, true "high culture," because it comes from an inferior mind.

Play baseball. This is an especially slippery one, because like writing poetry, it's a learned skill with gradations of skill level, not an intrinsic ability that someone does or doesn't have. Most autistic people aren't pro-level baseball players, but neither are most allistic people. And again, Kennedy didn't say "Autistic people are bad at baseball." He said that we would never play baseball. "Has ever played or will ever play baseball" is such a ridiculously low bar that even I can meet it. Technically speaking, I can play baseball. I have played baseball, in school gym class. I know how! You sit there minding your business until it's your turn to stand up, and then someone hands you a bat, and then someone throws a ball, and you're supposed to try to hit the ball with the bat, and in theory, after you fail three times, you're supposed to be allowed to sit back down again and go back to imagining wild self-insert fanfic, but the coach gives you "extra tries" out of pity, so you have to humiliate yourself with five or six attempts instead of three. Yeah. I can play baseball. So what's Kennedy going for with this one? Baseball in the U.S. is associated with two things: American identity, and idyllic midcentury childhood. If autistic people can't participate in America's Pastime, can we really even be Americans? Do we really count as citizens? I don't think Kennedy is personally, ideologically all that committed to xenophobia himself; he's just hitched his wagon to a deeply xenophobic administration because they indulge his medical conspiracy theories. But he knows how to align his goals to the administration's. He knows that his boss is deeply committed to narrowing and restricting who counts as "an American," who's not really part of "our culture," who's not really a part of baseball and hot dogs and the Fourth of July, if you know what I mean. Okay, okay. Maybe I'm reaching with this one. But I'm definitely not reaching with the other association he's going for: Idyllic Midcentury Childhood. All kids play baseball. By which I mean, all boys play baseball. I'm not sure Kennedy knows that girls can play it too, or that he cares. The point is, baseball is part of childhood, and autistic people are never children. We don't play, we don't learn, we don't go through developmental stages, we're just forever Mindless Blobs. That's why things that would be considered cruelty if done to neurotypical children aren't cruelty when they're done to us. We're not really children. We never become adults, either -- how can we, if we don't go through childhood first? You can tell we're subhuman because we don't go through the universal experiences of Real People Life.

Go on a date. Okay. This one. This is the one where I get actively angry at the well-meaning, "inclusive" responses. "Just because an autistic person has high support needs and can't do XYZ doesn't mean --" no. Stop right there. There is no such thing as a disabled person who "can't" date. There is no impairment or disability that prevents someone from dating. There are people -- autistic and otherwise, disabled and otherwise -- who for whatever reason, choose not to pursue dating. Maybe they're aromantic, maybe they're loners, maybe they have religious objections, maybe dating just isn't something they're interested in. Fine. That's their choice. But there is no such thing as a disabled person who "can't" date. There is no such thing as a disability that renders people incapable of romantic relationships. There is no such fucking thing as being "too disabled" or "too severe" or "too profound" or "too high support needs" to have a romantic relationship if two or more people want one. That is not a thing that exists. That is a thing ableists made up. There is no such thing as an autistic person who "can't" go on a date. There are autistic people who aren't allowed to go on dates, because their family or caregivers control them, infantilize them, restrict their freedoms, or treat them as mindless blobs. But all disabled people (yes, all) can pursue romantic relationships. All disabled people (yes, all) deserve the human right to pursue romantic relationships if they choose to. With other disabled people. With abled people. With whomever. And yeah, dating doesn't necessarily have to be romantic or sexual, but let me be perfectly clear -- disabled people, autistic people, "high support needs" autistic people have a right to have sex, too. A multiply disabled autistic person who needs 24/7 assistance deserves the absolute, unreserved right to have wild, kinky, balls-to-the-wall, whole-chicken sex with the entire starting lineup of the Detroit Lions, if xe so chooses to, and if said Lions are on board. We should not accept the premise that there is any such thing as a disabled person who "can't" go on a date.

Use a toilet without assistance. This is the Kennedy playbook trump card, but unlike some of the other claims, this one is actually true. There's no such thing as a disabled person who "can't" date, but yes, there are in fact plenty of disabled people, including autistic people, who need help with using the toilet. So what's Kennedy going for here? He's trying to evoke two things: Disgust and infantilization. We have a visceral disgust around excretory functions. Needing to eliminate waste reminds us that we're animals made of meat, not the higher intellectual beings we pretend to be. Everyone poops. So we do it in private, we describe it with euphemisms, and if someone needs help with it, well, they're not keeping up their end of the social compact to collectively pretend we're not animals with animal bodily functions. So people who need assistance with the waste process are disgusting, subhuman, a violation of imagined purity. And of course, they're babies. Babies wear diapers. Babies need help using the toilet. So an older child or adult who needs diapers or toileting help is basically a big baby. We have entire election cycles centered on "Which candidate has incontinence issues?" as a proxy for "Which candidate is a big baby unfit to lead?" as though someone's bladder leakage has any bearing on their wisdom or policy positions. And of course, since people who need help with toileting Are Babies, we're meant to assume that they can't do any of those other things, either. They can't even use the toilet, let alone write poetry or go on a date. In reality, plenty of people who need toileting help are writing poetry and going on dates. One of the biggest misconceptions that holds disabled people back from education or, in some cases, from basic communication, is this myth of linear "developmental stages" -- that if someone isn't "smart enough" to master an "easier/earlier" skill, then they can't possibly be "smart enough" to master a completely unrelated skill that some abled person thinks of as "more advanced." This is literally the primary barrier to communication access for speech-disabled people, and the reason nonspeaking people who type to communicate are so often disbelieved -- if someone isn't "smart enough" to master a "baby skill" like talking, they can't possibly be "smart enough" to read and write! Nevermind that for many speech disabled people, reading and writing are much easier than speaking. And if someone isn't "smart enough" to use the toilet unassisted, they can't possibly learn any advanced topics at all, because they must the "mind of a baby." (The only people with the minds of babies are babies. A 50 year old with incontinence has the mind of a 50 year old.)

So. To sum up: Kennedy is intentionally evoking the concept of autistic people as The Abject Unthinking, and neither "Plenty of autistic people can do those things he says we can't do" nor "Disabled people deserve respect and dignity even if they can't do those things" fully addresses the dehumanization he's trying to conjure. Maybe I'm just jaded, too, about calls for "respect and dignity" for disabled people that don't challenge the concept of The Abject Unthinking. I see behavioral therapists, institution staff, and parents pursuing adult guardianship talking about "respect and dignity." I see articles about how to restrain and forcibly drug people with "respect and dignity." Ableists literally murder disabled people in cold blood in the name of "respect and dignity." I don't know what "respect and dignity" means to these people, but it's sure not synonymous with "bodily autonomy" or "civil rights." By this point, I consider "respect and dignity" about as meaningful as "thoughts and prayers." All disabled people can, and deserve the right to, express themselves. All disabled people can, and deserve the right to, make their own decisions about their own bodies. All disabled people can, and deserve the right to, participate in their communities. All disabled people can, and deserve the right to, pursue relationships with other people of their choice.

#us politics #eugenics #ableism #actually autistic #infantilization #neurobigotry #psych abolition #anti institution #this is one of those longposts where i link to a bunch of my previous posts because i'm arrogant like that

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swamp-world · 1 year ago

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"Why are we exclusivising behaviours everyone experiences" because something like RSD for example is not, in fact, something everyone experiences. It is a symptom and has a name for a goddamn reason. The literal point of it being dysphoria is that it is disproportionate and difficult to manage. Dyphoria is not just "I felt bad", it is often anxiety. Like. @goodguydotmp3 is 100% right and I am so fucking tired of this rhetoric repackaged as being "humanizing" and "the emotionally mature thing to do".

A disability is a disability for a reason and you need to fucking get comfortable with that fact.

The idea of "pathologizing vs humanizing" and "using it as an excuse or cop-out" and "it's not relatable" is so transparently uninterested in actual mental health, wellness, and any acknowledgement of what mental illness and disability actually are, and while here the example is directed at ADHD and RSD, which are the Hot New Brain Worms Of The Month, the logic is a million times more insidious and often seems, if you haven't been on the receiving end of it, to be good and sound. But like.

A condition is often a condition for a reason, and those conditions can be Fucking Debilitating. This applies even if you experience the same condition as the person you are speaking to. If someone says to you "I'm sorry about this thing, I am severely depressed" it's actually pretty fucking gross to say "So what, I'm depressed too" (a thing which I and many others have experienced, and which has been gleefully shared in the notes of this post).

Frankly, it actually strikes me as worse in a lot of ways to act like a condition is universal, and that us both being depressed cancels out like a math equation, or that you are depressed in an identical way to me, or to the same degree, or in the same circumstances, than it does to say "I'm sorry I did XYZ thing, situations like this have been difficult for me or volatile because I have depression".

Like. Has the whole point of mental health activism not been the literal Invisibility Of Mental Illness???

The second response demonstrated by OP demands obscuration of the disability or condition or situation. To claim that it's pathologizing and therefore bad to use the phrases which are formally recognized, have been given to you to describe your circumstances and situations, and are literally designed to give phrasing to experiences so that you can identify and work with them more easily, is fucking insane.

Frankly the idea of "humanize your mental illness instead of pathologizing it" is just a reworded version of "don't use the scary medical words that might indicate that you have an actual medical condition because then people have to acknowledge the reality of your situation instead of just getting to believe that you are a bad and/or lazy person". It is functionally just "It's just easier for everyone else if you don't actually say that you're disabled and frame things as a personal failing instead of a contextualized struggle, so you should just not say it".

Because vital to note is that this wasn't "make sure you aren't ending at using clinical terms to explain your response to a situation", it was "use Normal People Words instead".

God this feels like such a fucking nuclear comparison but if court systems can have a fucking Not Criminally Responsible clause—where a person is literally understood to be mentally ill in a way that they literally, in fact, cannot take responsibility for their actions (which apparently is the "emotionally mature thing to do")—then you should be able to fucking integrate that idea into your day-to-day life, and at much less severe levels.

The other implication of this post (intentional or not), specifically the reblog with the tags on it, is that mental illnesses are not in fact as severe as people are making them out to be. RSD does not mean "You said something to me and it hurt my feelings", it is a clinical lack of ability to regulate emotions and responses, and to acknowledge that is not to pathologize, or to excuse, but to understand that this is a core symptom of the medical condition that a person has been diagnosed with.

The issue is not in most cases that I think that my experiences are unique and need to be explained in clinical language to The Other People Who Couldn't Possibly Understand My Feelings, it's that there is some modifier to those shared feelings, and that modifier is not shared, and is likely not self-evident. To refuse to acknowledge the difference between that and the idea that a person is "self-alienating" through using clinical language is transparently uninterested in the actual matter at hand, or at any attempt to get a ground level understanding of disability, mental illnessness, and what it actually means.

And as the above poster mentioned, jesus christ, extend this logic to anything beyond the more publicized conditions like anxiety, depression, ADHD, etc. to anything such as bipolar disorders, schizophrenia and related conditions, psychosis, personality disorders, etc. and it becomes much more obvious how this rhetoric is used as a cudgel.

Other people are more qualified and better-spoken on the matter of the fact that The Core Issue With Hallucinations And Delusions Is That You Are Unable To Distinguish Them From Material Reality, but like. That feels worth mentioning here.

Not to mention things like (hypo-)mania, where you may not have control over your actions, or do things you otherwise would not do. I know of at least three people in my life who, sometimes in efforts to treat other disabilities (mental and physical alike), have experienced workplace issues because of mania, and in at least two of those cases they were given compassionate medical leave because they Had A Medical Condition, not discipline because they refused to take responsibility for their actions which apparently is "the emotionally responsible thing to do".

Because the core of it is: mental illness and disability are things that happen to people, not things that other people are doing. And when things happen to you, things that you do become difficult for you and everyone else. And the idea that acknowledging and explaining that fact to other people is not humanizing or is alienating or is avoiding the problem or not taking responsibility or pathologizing instead of...experiencing often invisible situations which often are not just out of your control but actively remove your control over yourself?? The idea that explaining or acknowledging that doesn't actually lend anything to the situation, even when it is a part of reality and ought to be recognized as such, and that even when there are literally medically-recognized conditions that contribute to an action or response, the person should still take responsibility for their actions that medically they are often unable or significantly more challenged to control??? Responsibility not as in, I must respond to this matter and attempt to correct it, but responsibility as in ownership of the action or blame on an immediate level???

That feels pretty gross.

Sick list of symptoms bro. Now try humanizing your behavior instead of pathologizing it.

#angry post i suppose #but im so fucking tired of this #i am genuinely curious about if people genuinely think it's meaningful when they respond with ''so am i'' to ''i'm depressed''.#and i am not trying to make a judgement about individual people in their situations which i am not familiar with #but i need you to know that when you say that and then return and post about it with pride #other people read that and suddenly are wondering if you would believe THEM if you told them they had depression #because there is an implication that ''I have this too and I'm doing fine so either you should be able to do this thing that I can #and if you can't then it's because you must be doing something wrong''#helios is not exaggerating remotely when they say that this is a nakedly transparent attempt to delineate between Good People Who Deal #With Their Disabilities Well And Don't Cause Problems For The Rest Of Us and then everyone else who falls into the #Those Lazy Disableds Simply Refuse To Do All The Things Which Would Help Them Which I #Who Am A Different Person Am Able To Know With Authority And Therefore Make A Judgment Upon #this is not even getting into the ''you've gotta believe that you can grow and not view these behaviours as permanent manifestations of #whatever it is you're dealing with'' because that reads very much as ''using the words given to you to describe your conditions is a #self-fulfilling prophecy because by using those phrases you BELIEVE in them #which is the more important part than them being relevant regardless of whether they're temporary or not''#because that's the other thing!!!! SOMETIMES THESE THINGS DON'T IN FACT FUCKING GO AWAY AND PEOPLE CANNOT IN FACT ''FIX THEM''#and you need to be comfortable with that fact. there is no ''or else''. you NEED to be comfortable with that fact.

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ozsvessalius · 2 years ago

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i genuinely sincerely cant believe i was called a manipulative person with a victim complex by a person who acted like my savior for "rescuing" me from that house, only to have zero remorse abt kicking me back into it. esp throwing it on me a singular month after i endured even more trauma in that house. like. bruh i literally have zero idea how to even begin to process this.

#mine #the place we were looking to move fell through & my parents said they'll help me keep looking bc they know this is worst case scenario #for a multitude of reasons but im just. like. idfk #i rly do not want to hold onto bitterness or a grudge but there's no way i cant w having to move back there.#like she rly told me to my face so many times she was glad she could help me get outta there #and then a month after i went through the most traumatic night of my life there #tells me that the very real probability that i have to move back there 'isnt her problem'. after... just. idk.#boosting her ego sm over ~saving me~ from a place she sent me back to like ?????#then again idk what im expecting from a person who told me my trauma-fueled meltdowns & breakdowns were triggering For Her #and tried to also act like my moon-given savior for just simply holding me three (3) times #during said melt/breakdowns during the multiple years we lived together #and then proceeding to ignore me and laugh w her partner in the other room while i screamed in agony.#like... yeah. i understand. they're a LOT. but also. the thing that gets me the most is i was transparent from the jump #abt everything involving me & my trauma & my trauma reactions.#i let her know point blank that i was moving out w the intention to process & recover from a shitload of trauma & baggage.#i made it clear id have intense emotional reactions cause i was having to learn to navigate stuff.#like. it's not like i just threw her into a cage w me and told her to just deal. i warned her. from the jump.#bc thats all i could do and she said it was fine. she was glad to help me start healing.#and then ever since then it's been a constant string of even MORE trauma being laid on top of what i already had #and now it's ending with like. so much trauma i genuinely have zero clue how to begin to process it.#it's just... v wild. and exhausting. and like i said. i rly do not want to stay bitter #but i literally dont know how to avoid it w shit ending up like this.#like literally straight up how dare u ever praise urself on my behalf when it was all leading to this. fuck you.#and also having the gall to make ME the manipulative asshole w a victim complex in this scenario like. bruh.#you cannot be serious... what the actual fuck man

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antmimicry · 2 years ago

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I don't often use tone indicators but I find people complaining about them specifically with "ugh why should I have to learn and remember all these things??" deeply disingenuous. do you also complain about tbh, omg, lol, lmao, imo, ime, ofc, tl;dr, wyd, tfw, lmk, afaik, fyi, idk, ikr, nbd, omw, smh, wtf, tmi, etc. etc. etc.? or do you use them regularly and have no problem with them?

if you do in fact have problems with these and complain about them then like. carry on! I certainly am sympathetic to people who genuinely have a hard time remembering these things. but I'm pretty sure that isn't the case for the majority of people making these complaints; it's just abundantly clear that like, whatever issue you have isn't because of the use of acronyms and shorthand terms. if you used and were exposed to tone indicators frequently you wouldn't have these issues with them, just like with all those other acronyms you are familiar with! so if you're gonna complain, at least don't lie about it, we all know that 'using acronyms' isn't your problem so let's not keep pretending it is. c'mon.

people find ways to streamline and shorten things to make communication easier, that's all tone indicators are! that's all these acronyms are, too! you don't have to like or use tone indicators but don't pretend you don't do the same exact thing too

#my posts #idk it's so annoying and so much of it is very transparently wrapped up in like #haha these stupid babies don't understand jokes and have major comprehension issues!#or w/e. like that's your ACTUAL problem with tone indicators. you think they're pathetic bc you don't struggle with those things #and are unable to have any amount of empathy and compassion for those who do and would rather dunk on them instead #being hyperbolic here I guess lol I just get so irritated with this shit sometimes #obviously there are legitimate confusions/'concerns' abt tone indicators sometimes and I'm not talking about those #I'm talking about the shallow complaints that don't hold up to any scrutiny and are obviously just an excuse to be an asshole

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simnopke · 5 months ago

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The Sims 2 Legacy Collection: shadow fix

The rerelease of The Sims 2 introduced a fix for the black rectangles under Sims. You may have experienced this bug in the Ultimate Collection version.

As the creator of the Sims Shadow Fix, I was curious to know how it was done. But first, I'd like to explain what the problem with Sim shadows is.

What's the cause of the shadow bug?

When the game works as intended, a Sim shadow texture is a light bluish blob on a white background. It also has transparency, but it's unused. It looks like this:

However, many modern graphics cards render the texture as plain black with transparency:

That's why black rectangles appear under the Sims.

What does my mod do?

My mod is only a workaround for the bug. It uses the transparency to recreate the shadows.

The first versions released in 2015 and 2016 were achromatic, while the original shadows were bluish. Back then I didn't even know why and how my mod worked.

On 2 January 2025 I released new versions based on my research into shaders. I also recreated the original bluish shadows.

How does the Legacy Collection fix the shadow bug?

Thanks to @ivycopur I was able to examine the code. It uses a workaround, just like my mod.

In fact, it looks almost exactly like the really not misty 0.4 version of my mod, which, ironically, is now legacy. The shader code in the Legacy Collection contains the same nonsense. And a bit more.

Code comparison

The left side is the original code extracted from the Materials.package file in The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection. The right side is my code or the Legacy Collection code:

The differences between my code and the LC code:

the debug part: I removed it from my code as players will never see it. The LC has this feature untouched.

alphaBlend srcFactor: despite the difference, it actually changes nothing. Explained later.

The identical changes:

alphaBlend dstFactor,

the same colorScalar has been added,

textureBlend.

Nonsense #1: textureBlend

The textureBlend defines how the colors of the incoming texture are transformed. The first argument is responsible for the color channels, the second – for the transparency.

Originally it's just:

textureBlend select(texture) select(texture)

And it means that the texture is taken as it is.

My and LC code transforms it though. The colorScalar is defined as a partially opaque (40%) black color. The transparency argument takes the transparency of the original texture and darkens it with the 40% factor:

multiply(colorScalar texture)

And this makes sense. The color channels argument takes the transparency part of the texture and makes it pure black, because the color scalar is black:

multiply(colorScalar texture:alphaReplicate)

It's pointless. I could go:

select(colorScalar)

instead. It would be effectively the same.

The texture after the transformations looks like this:

Nonsense #2: alphaBlend

The alphaBlend defines how to mix the source colors (in this case the transformed texture from the textureBlend step) with the destination colors (in this case, the ground under Sim's feet).

The srcFactor argument defines the source color transformations, the dstFaction – defines the destination color transformations. And then they're put together.

Originally it's:

alphaBlend srcFactor(destColor) add dstFactor(zero)

The srcFactor says that the shadow colors are darkened with the ground colors. The dstFactor doesn't really matter because it's multiplied by zero (black). Also, transparency isn't used.

If I understand correctly, you could achieve the same effect with:

alphaBlend srcFactor(zero) add dstFactor(srcColor)

And the final effect is:

My and LC code had to do it differently. The dstFactor says to darken the floor color with inverted transparency:

dstFactor(invSrcAlpha)

It sounds complicated, but the inversion actually means that black becomes white and vice versa. So the transparency texture, which is a dark gray blob on a black background, becomes a light gray blob on a white background.

The srcFactor is actually useless because the shadow texture (from the textureBlend step) is black. So it doesn't matter if you use:

srcFactor(one)

like I did, or:

srcFactor(destColor)

as in the LC code, it will always be black because you can't make black any darker. To make the intention clear, I'd personally go with:

srcFactor(zero)

instead. The final effect would always be:

It's different from the original intended effect. You can even see the difference in the official screenshots:

Source 1 | Source 2

Conclusion

It doesn't look like a coincidence. The cause of the shadow bug hasn't been fixed, and I doubt that an experienced shader creator would come up with such a workaround. There are better ways.

Before you point out that it's against my terms of use to take my code and sell it, especially without credit, hear out. It doesn't matter – EA's policy allows it. And I'm not even angry. It's just funny that they trusted such a messy code. I wouldn't be surprised to see other creators' fixes in the Legacy Collection.

The good thing is that EA has addressed the shadow issue at all. 🙃

#ts2 #modding #the sims 2 #sims 2

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brawberryz · 17 days ago

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⎯⎯ㅤ it feels like dreaming

Batfam Yan! × Jellyfish! Reader

Note | English is not my first language / M.list

A | N | Jellyfish are my favorite animal, they're so cute and silly, maybe I'll make a shark! Reader one later

TW | yandere behavior, toxic relationships, obsession, isolation, Platonic

What's the point of crying if no one's going to come and comfort you?

You learned that as a child, a jellyfish abandoned in the middle of the sea.

Floating among the currents, guided by the stars and the waves of the sea, aimlessly chasing something that seemed so far away.

Destined to float around, searching for something that seemed nonexistent.

Your body shines like a star, illuminating the sea at night, guiding the fish to their destination. You were like a candle lit at the bottom of the sea.

A candle whose wax was slowly beginning to melt, a candle that longed for rest.

You simply existed. There was no explanation for your existence, nothing else humans would ever be able to explain.

But was there anything that was capable of explaining?

Many people along the seashore used to see you shining at night. They called you "the blue signal" or "the ocean light."

You were like those phenomena that had no explanation. It was the kind of phenomenon that people associated with some kind of paranormal activity or some kind of god.

But no one could really explain it, not even you.

Were you ever anything more than this? Were you created for this?

So many questions and no answers

Sometimes you used to go to the surface. You used to go during the day, but you stopped after getting too close out of curiosity to the kid, or little human, as you liked to call those of his kind.

You got too close, and the kid mistook you for a monster, so he threw one of his plastic buckets where he collected shells at you, hitting you on the head.

You could still remember the pain you felt after that. That kid was really strong. You could still remember his emerald eyes and his look of disgust when he saw your head sticking out of the water.

So now you started going at night. The waters were calmer, and there was no one on the beaches.

Sometimes you wished you could just leave here, to be able to walk like other humans, but your skin was like jelly, so sticky and flexible.

You would be easy prey for any predator outside, just looking from afar.

Your organs were transparent to your body. It would be strange for any human to see someone walking down the street with strange hair and their organs completely transparent to others.

No one would ever be able to accept someone like you. Not even jellyfish accepted you, and they were practically the same species.

If they didn't even choose you, why would anyone else?

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn't even see the huge wave coming toward you as your body floated.

You could barely react when the sea threw your body into something hard.

Maybe you hit a rock or coral, but it hurt too much.

You didn't even know where you were; maybe you crashed into a pier.

That would cause you problems; you couldn't let any human see you.

But the pain was too much. You could feel the air in your lungs diminishing.

Your body fainted so easily, losing consciousness.

The waves dragged your weak body toward the shore where a shadow slowly approached your wounded body.

Bruce looked curiously at the enormous fish tank in the Batcave.

A few days had passed since he picked up your unconscious body on the seashore.

The simple fact of your appearance fascinated him so much, to the point where he wondered why he was so interested in you.

There was something about you that attracted him that he couldn't explain; it's as if he were the metal and you were the magnet.

And he wasn't the only one fascinated by you; Damian was the most interested in you.

The night Bruce brought you to the mansion, Damian said he'd already seen you once. He still remembers when he threw the bucket at your head.

At first, Damian pretended not to care and thought you were some strange mystical creature like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster.

He occasionally went to the Batcave to feed you; maybe the smell of fish food would wake you up.

But when he threw the food in, your tentacles on your head would automatically pick it up, as if Your body was programmed to grab food even if you were asleep.

Dick really liked your presence even though you didn't even speak, and only your sleeping body floated around the fish tank.

He liked to stick his hand in your fish tank. It was something he did every time he went to the Batcave, and it was something Damian hated.

"Grayson, stop touching her fish tank! You'll make it dirty!"

The younger one said angrily as he pulled his brother's hand away from your fish tank. He was never going to admit it, but he'd become overprotective of you.

He said he was simply worried because, after all, you were a kind of animal, and he would never forgive himself if an animal got hurt.

"Calm down, Damian, I just washed my hands," Dick tried to calm Damian down, showing him his freshly washed, clean hands.

"It doesn't matter! Stay away from her anyway." Damian spent his time cleaning the glass of your fish tank, arguing that he should clean Dick's germs.

Dick could only laugh at Damian's possessive behavior.

Although he wouldn't lie, he was also starting to feel more than just curious about you.

Tim was the most curious about you. I asked Bruce thousands of questions about what you were and where you came from.

He had to know what you were; he was a detective. It was only natural that he wanted to solve the mystery of what you were.

Although Bruce I restricted him in many ways, not even letting him touch you.

I was so curious about what your skin would feel like. If Bruce could touch you, why can't he?

He liked watching you from afar; you were like some kind of giant, half-human jellyfish.

He was determined to find out as much as possible about you as soon as you woke up.

He has a whole hard drive on his computer dedicated to you, even photos of you too close to your face.

Although no one in the family was supposed to find out, Damian would kill him for getting too close to you.

Jason was the last to find out; he was hardly ever in the mansion and was more isolated from all of them.

So he was very surprised when he saw a human who looked like a jellyfish floating in a giant fish tank in the Batcave.

At first, he didn't like you. He tried to touch you out of curiosity once and ended up electrocuted because of you.

At least now he knows he has to be careful with you if he doesn't want to end up roasted.

When he was the first to finish patrolling, he liked the moments alone with you; he quite liked the glow of your body.

Your light made the darkness of the The Batcave won't affect him that much.

I hated to admit it, but I felt jealous when someone else in the family spent too much time with you, even though you weren't even interacting with anyone since you were asleep.

I just hoped you'd wake up soon. I couldn't stand having to look at you through glass for so long.

You felt a light approaching your eyes, the water felt different.

Everything was so quiet, all you heard were the small sounds of someone talking.

How long had you been unconscious?

Your body moved, causing small bubbles to form in the water.

Your vision stopped blurring, and you saw a pair of eyes staring at your awake figure.

"She woke up..."

Damian was the first to speak as soon as he saw you wake up.

You saw a huge figure approaching you, so you instinctively moved away, scared.

You weren't used to interacting with real humans; being so close to them made you nervous and scared.

"Calm down." Bruce tried not to sound so intimidating to you. He knew you were scared, and he didn't want to make you more nervous. "We won't hurt you. You can trust me."

You could see him getting closer to your fish tank; something in you told you not to believe him.

But it was the first time someone had behaved so gently toward you.

Growing up your entire life in the ocean without any kind of family took a toll on you.

You distrusted everyone; no one was there for you throughout your life. And that someone would show so much affection towards you felt strange.

But something in you made your body move towards the glass that separates you from him. Fearfully, you placed your hand on the glass.

Bruce could notice how the tentacles on your head were moving more than usual.

Instinctively, he also placed his hand on the glass. Compared to yours, his hand was much larger, and the calluses and scars on his hand were noticeable.

A small, almost invisible smile formed on Bruce's face. At least it seemed like you trusted him a little.

"See? You don't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you. You can trust me." Even with the sweet words coming out of his mouth, that serious tone remained.

In Bruce's eyes, you were such a cute and tender little thing; you were so fragile and scared.

I could swear that if you had a shell, you would hide there every day.

Bruce's initial plan was that when you woke up and You'll recover. He'd return you to the sea.

But maybe he changed his mind...

You were too fragile and weak; you wouldn't survive for so long in the sea, or so he thought.

It wouldn't be such a bad idea to keep you in this aquarium for your entire life.

You were like a glass cup; if you weren't careful, it could slip from your hands and shatter into pieces.

And he couldn't bear the thought of you leaving. During this time watching you, he felt something he couldn't explain.

He needed to protect you; he couldn't let anyone get their hands on you.

You were his.

It didn't matter if he didn't want to keep you with them; your opinion wasn't something he'd count for right now.

He was sure you wouldn't miss your home, if you ever had one.

You were completely useless out of the water; you couldn't escape them even if you wanted to.

So be a good little fish and behave yourself.

They're sure you'd enjoy staying.

You don't have a family or a place to stay. Where to go?

Do you want to go back to that dark, empty sea?

They're sure your answer will be no, and even if that wasn't your answer, it doesn't matter.

From the moment Bruce laid his hands on you and brought you to the mansion, you signed your own death sentence.

They'll take better care of you than you can imagine. You just have to forget about everything.

Why do you need to go back to the sea when you have them?

I'm back

Yeiiii

This gonna flop btw

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rebeccathenaturalist · 9 months ago

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If you've ever shared "cute" pictures or videos from owl cafes, read this sobering reality check.

92 cafes across Japan hold over 1900 owls captive, simply for entertainment. This includes two species considered Near Threatened (Barred Eagle-owl Bubo sumatranus and Chaco Owl Strix chacoensis) and one Vulnerable species (Snowy Owl Bubo scandiacus). Moreover, there is a lack of transparency as to the origins of many of these owls, which may not all have been captive-bred. Species may have been mislabeled during import, and not all have paperwork showing they were legally imported, meaning there is a very good chance owl cafes feed into the illicit, non-sustainable wildlife trade.

What the article doesn't cover is how stressful these settings are for owls. They're bright, noisy, and confined, and the owls are exploited by the owners who allow untrained strangers to hold and pet them without consideration of the owl's well-being. The "break areas" where the owls can get away from direct contact are still within sight of patrons, meaning they are still subject to human contact.

Owls are not chickens. They are not domesticated birds that have spent thousands of years and thousands of generations in human company, being selectively bred for human-friendly, docile traits. Even a tame owl is still a wild animal with intact instincts that tell it it should be living a largely solitary life in a wide, open field or forest, not stuck in a small space with many other owls of assorted species and a bunch of people.

This also isn't a situation like falconry, where captive birds are given plenty of private space, and flown daily for physical and mental fitness. And a single cage may have dozens of owls, more than what limited staff can handle. Even if some of the birds are supposedly "rescues" (as at least one cafe's website claims), any reputable wildlife rescue is going to limit the contact between the animals and humans, and absolutely is not going to allow visitors to regularly take pictures with and handle the wildlife--even socialized, trained ambassador animals have very stringent limitations on direct contact.

So it's not at all unsurprising that an already highly unethical industry is likely contributing to the problem of questionable or illegal wildlife trade. This study is just one more piece of evidence suggesting that these cafes are anything but harmless, cute fun.

#owl cafe #owl cafes #owls #birds #birdblr #wildlife #wild animals #animal welfare #animal cruelty #wildlife trafficking #Japan #nature #animals #ecology #conservation #endangered species #wildlife rescue #wildlife rehab #not actually cute

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jsooly · 4 months ago

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death in the family (5) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, you're plagued with an uneasy feeling that persists day in and day out.

tw. you throw up once, depictions of anxiety

(1) / . . . / (10) / (11* - ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

a week and a half passed and you were still drawing up empty on ideas to snatch spider from the RDA's clutches. as far as you were concerned, he was constantly with the recom team, sometimes in areas you couldn't access.

"they're going to try and bond with ikran," spider whispered over the comm you slipped on his wrist.

you scoffed, pressing onto your new comm choker. "already?"

"they really want to go 'full na'vi.'"

"you think they'll be able to do it? complete the ritual?"

"honestly..." you heard him sigh softly, his tone begrudging. "as much as i hate to admit it, yeah. they could probably manage it."

you dropped your head into your hands. with each passing day, the situation spiraled just a little further out of your control. sometimes you laid awake in bed staring at the ceiling, a war raging in your mind on what you could handle. this was quaritch you were talking about—the man who hunted and almost succeeded in killing your father once before.

the only thing that pushed you to get up in the morning was the fire burning in your heart. his entire team was dead set on killing your family and regardless of how anxious you were, under no circumstances were you going to let them catch the faintest whiff of the sully's new refuge—even if you didn't know how you'd do so.

"okay, i'll..." i don't know what i'll do, you wanted to scream. "i'll be in touch. stay safe, okay?"

"yeah, i will." spider said hurriedly before the line dropped.

as if your doubts weren't enough to paralyze you, a sinking sensation constantly weighed you down. like a lead ball rooted in your stomach, your gut was trying to tell you that something bad was going to happen. but every situation around you had the potential to crash and burn, you couldn't pinpoint what your premonition was trying to warn you about.

"y/n!" norm exclaimed when you wandered into the break room for a glass of water. he launched from his seat and studied your face carefully. "are you getting enough sleep?" he flattened the back of his hand against your forehead. "you look sick!"

you smiled, trying to reassure his nervous assessment of your state. "i haven't been sleeping well, lately. that's all."

he frowned. "lately? how long has this been going on?"

"uh..." you pursed your lips, pouring some water into your glass. "since they left, actually. it's only gotten worse now."

"i think we should take a medical assessment, just to be safe." he pulled out his tablet and tapped away on the transparent blue screen. "you've been avoiding all the poisonous flora while you're out, right?"

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "yes, i have. and i don't need an assessment, norm, i'm just adjusting."

his hands stilled and he slowly pocketed his tablet. he eyed you suspiciously but settled for trusting your word. "...if you say so."

afterwards, you retreated to your room. your thoughts trailed back to spider once again. could you switch out his exo-pack somehow? if the tracker was the problem, a simple switch of the mask could give him the freedom to slip away the minute he sees an opportunity.

you weren't naive, however. a trained solider like quaritch would definitely be able to identify the switch if he were to look hard enough. the exo-packs the research department had were old and weathered, nothing near as spanking new as the RDA's updated model.

you pursed your lips as you ruminated in your thoughts. your eyes caught on the faint silvery glow outside your window, even in the bright daylight.

eywa.

respectfully, she was annoying you. she was teasing you with wonder, with a message that you were clearly oblivious to. even worse, you had no way to communicate with her except stare at her spirits dumbly.

this was probably the fifteenth time her sprites popped up, hung around your person, and then disappeared into the forest. it was clockwork. you couldn't go a day without seeing those majestic tendrils floating in your vicinity. you were confused the first time she showed herself up in high camp, and you remained just as confused now.

you appreciated her presence as much as you could before it fluttered off. you sighed and shook your head slightly.

your comm buzzed to life. your fingers automatically raised to accept the call, a habit fostered over the years. "yeah?" you answered.

"they're gonna scale the hallelujah mountains around midday tomorrow. the mountains above that watering hole we used to go to."

you pursed your lips. "if you guys are going to be in close quarters with each other and the ikran, it's too much of a risk for me to try and follow behind you."

"no, you're totally right. i'm just letting you know so you know you have free reign on the ground if needed. their temporary base is near the watering hole, too."

oh? "that's great, spidey. thanks for letting me know." you hummed, the gears in your head turning. "they got backup masks for you? do you know?"

"they got a whole trunk of stuff, m'not sure what's in it, though. i would assume yes?"

"i'll snoop around tomorrow. how long can you hold your breath?"

"huh?"

you smiled to yourself as the pieces fell into place. "just be prepared to break your mask."

for the next few hours, you worked to modify one of the exo-packs to match the newer RDA versions. truthfully, they were just darker and thinner, ultimately covering less of the face.

you groaned as you gave up on your endeavor. there was no way the recoms would fall for some half-assed switcheroo like the one you were planning. you needed their model, one that was untouched by the military without any trackers of any sort.

am i really doing this? you asked yourself as you slung your bow and arrow over your chest and slipped out your bedroom window. yes, i am. you sighed in defeat as you rushed towards the RDA base again.

night was falling fast over awa'atlu and jake sully was counting heads for the night.

"four," he mumbled to himself as he ruffled lo'ak's head and gently pushed him inside the marui. "good job today, everyone. didn't hear about any trouble."

lo'ak grumbled under his breath as he crouched next to his mother, who caressed his cheek lovingly.

"why are you so upset, lo'ak?" she probed gently. "you had fun today. i saw you."

"he had fun with tsireya!" tuk teased, a wide grin on her face. "oooo, you liiike her!"

lo'ak's head snapped up, his golden eyes glaring. "shut up, tuk."

"hey." jake scolded him, a disapproving look on his face. "that's no way to talk to your sister."

lo'ak rolled his eyes and stormed off to his corner. neytiri sighed and threw more ingredients into the fire, the aromas spilling over into the air.

"why is your brother so upset, neteyam?" neytiri asked tiredly. it was always something with these children.

neteyam pursed his lips. "i think he's just missing y/n."

"we all are," kiri cut in, her tone clipped. "doesn't mean he can be an ass about it."

neteyam shrugged. lo'ak wasn't likely to hear anyone out. he'd probably sort through it himself, if anything. he was probably also at his limit of hearing him lecture his ear off.

"it's been weeks. the longest we've been without her." neteyam, ever the diplomat, reasoned. "we all process differently. you haven't been perfect either."

kiri sat up straighter, indignation written all over her face. "what is that supposed to—"

"okay, okay." jake cut in swiftly. "it's been a good day. let's not end on a bad note, yeah?"

the kids grumbled as they reluctantly bit their tongues.

"dad." lo'ak spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to the boundary of the marui. "your computer's buzzing."

for all the pride the RDA possessed, their base was sure easy to infiltrate. it helped that you were one person, already familiar with the layout and camera blind spots, and had a few sedatives at your disposal. gaining an access card was a piece of cake.

you buzzed into the research department, the halls empty and dark. surprisingly, all the scientists were sleeping. you assumed they had dorms, though you did stumbled upon the odd person slumped over their desk.

along the wall there were rows upon rows of exo-packs. you smiled to yourself, swiping one kit with ease and attaching it to your person. getting out was as easy as getting in, and you held onto that access card.

for this to work, you'd need to eliminate all suspicion that the new mask would be tampered with. if the recoms did have spare masks for spider, undoubtedly with trackers in them, you'd have to deactivate them and hide them away somewhere, and give spider a handheld tracker so that the recoms would still be able to see his movement, but could be discarded when he decided to make a run for it.

what if this was all for nothing? you suddenly asked yourself. your stomach sunk, twisted, and flipped all at once. what if you were just as helpless as they thought you were, and you couldn't protect those who mattered most to you?

you felt sick.

you slinked into your room, promptly dropping the new exo-pack on the bed along with your weapons. you stumbled out the door to grab some water.

shut up, you told yourself, aiming to console your raging sense of impending doom. nothing bad is going to happen, i'll make sure of it.

you didn't even believe yourself. your hands shook as you poured your glass. something bad is going to happen. something bad is going to happen.

you were convinced. despite your family safely tucked away in the refuge of the island clans and spider cooperating with quaritch himself, you were on the verge of snapping. you didn't feel something bad was going to happen, you knew it. something was about to go terribly wrong and you knew no matter what you did, it was going to occur anyways.

is this all for nothing?

you set your glass down and tripped over yourself racing to the bathroom. you didn't bother to put the lights on before you keeled over the toilet and threw up.

"y/n?" the light flickered on with a click! and norm stood in the doorway. his brows furrowed in concern. "are you okay?"

you gave him a deadpan look. do i look okay? you wanted to retort.

he smoothed the hair away from your face and really studied you. "okay, i'm not taking any chances." he gives you a stern look. "i need to give you a medical checkup."

you shook your head, drawing yourself to your feet and rinsing your mouth. "m'fine. just... tired." you mumbled before grabbing your toothbrush and cleansing the panic from your mouth.

"you're not fine. this is unorthodox, especially for you. just an hour of your time, if so much. what's your medical history?"

you blinked. growing up on hometree, nothing of the sort was recorded. you were treated as symptoms were presented, going about your day as normal once you were treated. "i don't think i have one?" you spit out the minty foam and packed away your toothbrush again.

norm slaps his forehead in realization. "oh, yes. okay, i'll call your dad to see—"

"no!" you whipped around and latched onto his wrist, your eyes wide. you gave norm an incredulous look. "you can't contact them in any way. what if the RDA picks up on the signal?"

norm paused, his mouth shutting as he pondered your words. his eyes narrowed, and you could see his mind searching for answers. then, "don't worry, bug, i'll encrypt and mask our frequency."

you shook your head, "they'll find them."

"you're being paranoid, y/n."

"they could."

norm's firm hand squeezed your shoulder. "they won't pick up on our conversation. i swear on my life, y/n, okay?"

you stared at him for a moment before relenting, momentarily shocked by your own outburst.

"besides, won't it be nice to see your dad, mom, and the kids again?" norm attempted to lighten the mood.

he left the small room without another word, typing and clicking away at his computer.

you shook your head, struggling to regain your bearings. you're fine, you tried to soothe yourself. you're fine, and so is everyone else.

"your family's on the line," norm was beside you again, grinning as he grabbed your wrists and strung you towards the computer.

"wait—" already? what were you going to say to them?

distance was the strangest thing. put a bit of it between you and the nineteen years you've been by their side seemed foreign all of a sudden.

he sat you down in front of the monitor and you're still reeling, head tripping over itself to catch up to the fact that this was happening, your heart beating obnoxiously loud (could norm hear it?), and the uneasy feeling of something crawling over your skin.

you held your breath as the call connected, the picture of your family coming to life.

you pressed your lips together in a tight-lipped smile. "hey."

jake adjusted the camera, his forearm blocking most of the view for a moment before he drew back, squinting at the screen. then recognition washed over his face and he smiled. "y/n."

neytiri crouched beside him, a bright grin on her face. "how lovely to see you, ma'ite."

"sa'nok, nga 'ur tse." (mother, you look well.) you found yourself smiling, the nerves festering in your body a minute ago vanishing as if they were never there.

jake squinted harder at the screen, peering closely. "are you sleeping enough?"

you rolled your eyes as norm hovered over your shoulder. "no, she is not. which is why i called, actually..."

you sat back as norm and your parents discussed your medical history, but there was nothing out of the ordinary that would explain your insomnia or your severe anxiety.

"this seems sudden," neytiri mused, her brows knitted. her eyes darted to you. "y/n, you must visit your grandmother more often. she will be able to help you rest."

jake shook his head, the motion barely detectable. "norm, what medicine does she need?"

"let's not jump to medicine just yet. neytiri, you said this was sudden. has she never shown these symptoms before?"

"what symptoms?"

"paranoia, an impending sense of doom, uh..." norm glanced at you as he listed them off. "trouble sleeping, you know, stuff like that."

neytiri pursed her lips, taking a peek at her husband. "no, she's never..."

"never seen this before." jake finished, his face full of concern and sympathy. his poor baby suffering oceans away from him, and he couldn't do anything but stare at your forlorn state with guilt.

"no, we have." lo'ak piped up, scooting into frame. your face lifted at the sight of him. as if following his lead, the other kids slowly trickled into frame.

"remember when the RDA first touched down?" lo'ak continued. neteyam's eyes brightened with understanding. "she didn't let me wander around cuz she had a 'bad feeling.'"

"yeah, she was insistent. and didn't sleep after, either. for days." neteyam added. "there've been moments since then where she gets these fits of restlessness and unease."

you shifted in your seat awkwardly. it was odd for everyone to be talking about you as if you weren't there.

"so about two years ago it became noticeable." norm hummed, noting the new information down. "seems like her insomnia is a byproduct of her anxiety. they occur together."

"so, medicine?" jake cut in.

norm pursed his lips. "we have some, but they're strong. i don't wanna put her on those yet." he dragged a chair beside yours. "you know, this call doubles as a reassurance, y/n. they're safe. you can call them as many times as you like to remind you of that when you begin to spiral."

sure, they're safe now. what about when the recoms get their ikran? what about the day a call glitches and the channel is no longer encrypted? you had to find solutions for all these problems or you swore you were going to lose it.

"actually," you leaned forward, finally speaking up. "i'll be fine. i don't want to risk the RDA catching onto the call signals."

norm frowned. "y/n."

"what?"

"i told you i would never let something like that happen."

"you don't know that for sure." you muttered. before norm could protest, you put on a smile and focused on your family. "i hope you guys are having fun. are you swimming a lot?"

tuk grinned, immediately prattling off. "yeah! and we're learning this cool new hand language—"

"sign language." neteyam corrected.

"—because we're underwater for a looong time! i can hold my breath for two minutes!"

your eyes widened. "wooow, tuk. you're only gonna get better from there, huh?"

"yeah, we practice everyday."

after a few more minutes of catching up with each of your siblings, you finally signed off for the night. norm gave you a look.

"what?" you asked defensively.

he shook his head. "you want some sleeping pills?"

you pursed your lips. might as well. "sure."

norm gave you some melatonin gummies before sending you off to bed. he said he'd check on you in an hour or so to make sure you were asleep.

you sighed as you laid your head to rest on your bunk. and for the first time in what seemed like forever, your eyes drooped down, and down, and down, and...

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000 @childishname @nen-nyy @moonchildxoxx

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