#talking to them was not good for my own mental health I should have known better

[king-mera]

I hate "whump" as a concept so much. Of course characters can get hurt and need taking care of but when I see it done excessively it just makes me feel awful. I don't want to see my favorite characters get tortured, I want to see them going on fun adventures and saving the day. It's so simple, I thought that's what we all wanted? To escape into a world where things turn out better? Well, no because some people are obsessed with pain.

[asstrolo]

PISCES PLACEMENTS.

one thing you need to know about Pisces is that they always look aloof and are extremely observant.

✦ Pisces Risings have a very good intuition to situations involved with emotions and other people's feelings, they can read them very well, but should always be careful as they can appear to think they know what a person is feeling when it could be something completely different.

✦ People with a Pisces stellium deal with very difficult mental health problems, like any other water stellium (or any stellium) their emotions are at an all time high and can make it hard to put things into perspective when it's all just one energy. To add that Pisces are mutable energy and that energy is very volatile, balance is not something that comes easily to them, unlike fixed signs like Aquarius, Pisces stelliums get trapped inside a thought or a scenario in their head a lot, it's really hard to make them come back to reality unless they are aware of what they are doing. This does not mean they are unstable or untrustworthy, they are wise and can with frequency have prophetic dreams

✦ One thing about Pisces mercury is that they will lie unprovoked, they often lie for their peace of mind so people would leave them alone, but other times they just lie because they can and I can confirm this as a Pisces mercury I lie a lot about things that don't matter like when I buy something and I tell my family that the person that sold it to me recommended it because it's really good, that's a lie nobody recommended me anything

✦ I do believe Pisces like to be sad more than they liked to admit, as the sign is known for not being present and you can always see them not wanting to be in the real world, sometimes they can use their moods to escape real life issues or responsibilities

✦ Jupiter in Pisces generation are really good at spotting a person's energy, they tend to have luck in everything esoteric but can shield on that a little too much, have an over positive or negative view of life as they have a strong intuition sometimes they will fool themselves into believing something just because of the ~vibes~ thy feel, a little too delusional sometimes ngl

✦ Pisces in anything but specially Pisces sun people are very addictive, is the Neptunian force, when people talk about Pisces have addictions to escape reality that is valid, I do believe they are super intoxicating to be around, is something about them that leaves people wanting more. Watch Pisces people that are famous, Hozier and Rihanna, Maddison Beer or Justin Bieber, Olivia Rodrigo, and the most Pisces of them all was Kurt Cobain with a extremely present Pisces stellium and a Water dominance with a Cancer moon and Scorpio mars, he looked almost like a cult leader and that's the magic of Pisces, they can draw people in so easily it's hard to know where you start and they end, but that's the magic of mutable signs

✦ Pisces men why are you like that? I'm not a mind reader don't make me kill you

✦ As Saturn is transitioning Pisces people with this placements can feel like it's just one thing after another, they can never really be calm because Saturn is not about calm at all, it's about responsibility and maturing in the blink of an eye, they will be confronting things they used to sweep under the rug, which is something difficult to do for Pisces placements as they can be too n their own world to see certain things surrounding them

✦ Continuing the Pisces/Saturn transit, this can obviously be felt more on where you have Pisces in planets or house. Venus in Pisces will be dealing with a lot of hard lessons in love, if you have unhealthy patterns that follow you through all your relationships and it can feel very overwhelming when you try to connect with somebody but is impossible because there is something you must learn, or you view of love could be very different when you start your first healthy relationship or stay single for your mental health. It really does depend on the person as Saturn has lessons in all shapes and forms . Pisces in the 9th house could mean responsibilities outside their home or comfort zone, or the impossibility of traveling due to these responsibilities. College or School can take a significant time in your daily life as someone who is starting to take it more seriously, or the sudden decision to leave a career to chase other dreams. Either way, it's a challenging time for the dreamers

✦ Pisces placements and always looking like they don't know where they are

✦ Since Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac they do encapsulate a tiny part of all the signs and that's why they can be so changing, Pisces Sun and Risings are known to be really good actors like Anya Taylor-Joy having a Pisces rising or Oscar Isaac. They can mold into a different personality very well and that's part of their empathetic tendencies too

✦ to me pisces placements embody the forever I hate it here I want to be inside my mind palace ALL THE TIME there's a reason a lot of pisces placements are actors or writers, they continuously try to run away from real life!!

a pisces placements song in my opinion

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations No.23

*just based on my experiences only take what resonates

Quite a few people with Chiron in Gemini are singers, talented ones too

We always talk about intuition of Pisces and Scorpio but Cancer placements are also crazy intuitive. I feel like you really can’t fool someone about how you’re feeling with Cancer in the big 6.

Air moons tend to catch feelings when someone is unavailable; earth moons tend to catch feelings when someone is more stable/ambitious than them; fire moons tend to catch feelings when someone is passionate and courageous; water moons tend to catch feelings when someone has sort of dreamy/otherworldly energy to them (that unspoken spark really gets to water moons)

If you wanna seduce Venus in 9th, travel with them or teach them something new

if you want to win over someone with Venus in 2nd/Taurus you should get them gifts (can apply to earth moons too imo- as long as the gift is useful or high end for them)

Quietly I think Capricorn in the big 6 can make you just as domestic as cancer in the big 6, but a Capricorn is usually going to talk about/pay attention their public image more

Someone said the only thing they can’t deal with is someone throwing it back in your face when you try to help them/give them advice (like the other person saying you don’t care or that you’re just in it for yourself) and yeah that’s Virgo mars

Moon square/opposition to the ascendant could have people assume you’re putting on a personality/faking something

Saturn in Pisces is another placement to make sure you watch your mental health, all of Saturn’s consequences come at your subconscious

Do water risings seem to have a theme of like not trying to let their perspectives be colored by some sort of sadness ? (Cancer Asc - nostalgia /which isn’t always sad but if you hear cancer placements talk about it then they often filter their own nostalgia through a certain sadness; Scorpio Asc - traumatic experiences that shaped their perspective; Pisces Asc - a feeling of like ennui, a certain kind of listlessness)

Neptune in the houses can show frequent locations if your dreams (3rd house- school, childhood neighborhoods; 4th house- childhood home, places you’d visit a lot with your family; 6th house the workplace; 9th house places you’ve traveled to or want to go to, etc)

Something we don’t talk about with Chiron in 1st is that it’s an energy amplifier imo. So when you’re healed you give off healing energy, but when you’re unhealed or even toxic you subconsciously spread that energy around (or maybe consciously, a lot of people I’ve known that belittle and nitpick others from a place of insecurity have Chiron in 1st)

If mars aspects your 4th house you may have grown up fighting and arguing a lot, especially with your family but in your childhood environment in general

Taurus placements will have their whole day impacted by a disappointing meal (especially moons- also mars imo)

Aries placements have trouble maturing sometimes bc their sign is then youngest of the zodiac (Pisces is the old man but this can make them unclear and disconnected too)

Aquarius in the big 3 (especially Aquarius moon) tend to be really good at playing detached and calculating (in real life too lol but I’m thinking of Rosamund Pike and how well she sold her cool girl speech from gone girl - she’s a double Aquarius) (also in real life people aren’t always so predictable/controllable so this calculating behavior can go sideways sometimes)

I love how the Pluto in Scorpio generation is making all of this mainstream art about transformation and healing generational trauma (everything everywhere all at once is what I was watching when I thought of this)

Also I’m still working on how to utilize degree theory best but Daniel kwan (one of the everything everywhere all at once directors) has Scorpio moon at a cancer degree (19) and his most acclaimed movie so far is about depression, trauma, and generational curses (I love everything everywhere all at once pls watch it, I cried 3 times when I watched it and I’m a Capricorn moon so you know that means a lot lol)

[numinousher]

CHANTAJE! (xxiii)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: if you read this late… you’re stinky

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“I can’t stand this.”

Taehyung grunted out between punches, ignoring Namjoon’s stare on his back due to the fact he beating up a man that had said things to you online and offline.

Now, Taehyung was never one to resort to violence. He was always the calm one alongside Yoongi, but the thought of someone hating on you and threatening to do things to you to “shut you up” was enough for him to see red. So, he here was, having chosen a guy on your comments out of thousands, and beating him up until the skin of his knuckles tore.

“Taehyung, I understand you can’t come to terms with your own feelings, but leave the poor guy alone,” Namjoon said, though he didn’t mean his empathy. He did not care at all. He just didn’t want to cover up another dead body just because Taehyung couldn’t handle his emotions. “Taehyung.”

“I mean, she’s going to be gone in a year once her contract ends,” Taehyung continued to huff out. He stopped for a second to glance at the two men over his shoulder—Yoongi was there, too—before looking at the man hanging. “She’s going to be gone and here I am wanting to kiss her. Is that a bad thing?”

“N-no, sir,” the man stuttered out with blood coming out of his mouth.

Taehyung hummed, though he didn’t waste another second to go back to hitting the man again. “I mean, it’s not fair. What if after the one year contract ends, she leaves and we never see her again? I feel like I won’t be able to handle that, mentally.” Punch. “Am I going fucking crazy?”

“I have never seen him this beat up over something like this,” Yoongi muttered, running a hand over his hair. Namjoon hummed in agreement. “Should we be offended?”

The (still) pink-haired man shook his head. “I can speak for all of us that falling for another person was not in our cards.”

“Were we ever like this with one another?” Yoongi asked, eyeing the way the beat up man stopped fidgeting. His mouth was drooling out blood, face swollen, and nose bleeding. Yoongi knew so many would look at them crazily for not feeling sorry at all, but the man was not only spewing out such hatred words to you that it scared you, he was a dedicated troll online and would comment such absurd things to those of the other gender. “I know we were a bit like that because we didn’t even know much about relationships with more than one person.”

“All I know is that it’s more than just lust with Y/n,” Namjoon breathed out, a frown etched in his face at sharing his thoughts. He wasn’t one to be good with his feelings. He never liked sharing the story about his family, he never liked telling others he had a bad day, so for him to openly talk about you and how he felt about you was a little confusing. “I don’t know. I didn’t intend to fall for her at all. I have to put your guys’ feelings before me so I could step in if her feelings are nothing but a ploy for dragging down our reputation. Now I can’t even think and I can’t even form my own thoughts, my own opinions, without thinking about her.”

Yoongi could hear the slight defeated tone in Namjoon’s voice.

He understood the feeling too well.

Though Yoongi was the quietest of the seven, he loved being able to show his feeling through gestures. It’s a reason why he took care of you the most because he saw something in you that he saw in the 7; to be understood without being questioned.

“Taehyung, stop,” Yoongi demanded with a stern voice, passing him a handkerchief Jin had specifically created to get rid of blood stains. Yoongi glanced at some of his workers there that were specifically aimed to clean up after their mess. “Get rid of the body.”

“Yes, sir.”

The three walked away from the scene, simultaneously thinking about you.

What will happen in a year after the contract ends? They don’t know, but they hope you will still be there with them. If not as a lover, then a friend. You were pleasant to be around.

“Miss, they’re here,” Min-seo announced, opening your bedroom door.

You had been in bed for a while now and you blamed it on Hyung-min who didn’t want to take you downstairs. Jae had told him to do so and even threatened to carry you herself, but he didn’t budge. He was too scared to do anything to you in case he hurt you again (Namjoon scared him).

“Let them in.”

“Yes, miss.”

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung admired the rest of your house as they went up the stairs. They hadn’t seen much considering they were always in a hurry and were so busy to come bother you, but they loved seeing the decorations you had up. They especially loved the pictures of you as a child holding onto awards, a bright grin plastered on your face, clearly happy and satisfied for getting an award that showed your hard work. You were just a child.

“Really?” You raised a brow once they came into view. “Are these daily visits going to stop once I’m healed?”

“No,” Namjoon answered, voice soft yet stern. He sat on the edge of your bed, his hand going up to run the pad of his thumb over your swollen ankle. His brows furrowed for a second before it vanished in a blink of an eye to look at you. “How are you?”

“Im doing much better,” you said with a small smile.

You glanced at Taehyung and Yoongi, their facial expressions not changing and giving you a clue as to what they were feeling. You slightly puffed out your cheeks before humming.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked, moving from his position beside Taehyung and coming to stand next to you. You waved him off. At noticing some white papers on your nightstand, he grabbed them, and read over the information given to you from your doctor. “You have low Vitamin D?”

“I don’t get enough sun,” you shrugged like it was nothing. “Before you three freak out, as soon as my ankle feels better I’m going on walks.”

“You should go with Jungkook and Namjoon on walks,” Taehyung piped in to suggest. “Jungkook takes his dog out for walks and Namjoon just like smelling the air.”

Namjoon scoffed at Taehyung’s words before turning to you. “It gets tiring being holed up in the office and a bunch of annoying workers just pestering and pestering. I need my walks.”

“I’ll go then,” you agreed, nodding your head. “Though, it’s been a while so if I get tired easily… not my fault. I usually love walks and you know, being able to be in my mind a lot more, but I’ve been feeling a bit lazy.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Namjoon reassured you, maintaining eye contact. You smiled at him and he gave you one, too. He sighed a bit and stood up to let his eyes run over your body to see if you had any more hidden injuries. Once he came to find nothing, he nodded. “Hyung-min called me.”

“Is that why he looked scared when he came to visit me?” You asked, arching a brow. Namjoon looked at the others and softly chuckled, not saying “yes” but not denying it either.

“We talked and he took my words wrong,” Namjoon answered with a shrug. “Not my fault.”

“Mhm, totally not your fault,” you echoed back to him, sarcasm dripping from your words. “But he has apologized. He has apologized to me, he didn’t do it on purpose, and that’s what should matter. Don’t go pestering him, either. He’s Jae’s boyfriend and Jae is my best friend so if you hurt him, you hurt her, and you hurt me. You wouldn’t want to hurt me.”

Yoongi felt the end of his lip curl up. “Oh, you’re good.” You smiled sheepishly at this words. “We won’t hurt him, Y/n. Just tell him that if he does something stupid again we won’t be so nice to him.”

“You mean, like, insulting him to hurt him, right?” No answer. “Right?”

“We’re going to be leaving,” Namjoon said, dodging your question. He stuck out his wrist to glance at this watch. “Yoongi and I have a meeting with some directors to talk about our project.”

“Do you really have to leave?” You breathed out that your words almost sounded like a whine. Namjoon stared at you.

The directors can function not having them there, right? No. They’re a bunch of idiots that just spewed a bunch of bullshit, and Namjoon did not trust them to go over the project he and Yoongi have been desperate to finish.

“As much as we’d love to stay—”

“I can stay,” Taehyung spoke up. He gave you a side glance. “I don’t have anything to do so if you want, I can keep you some company.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “That would be nice, Taehyung.” You turned to look at the two. “Are you going to come tomorrow with Jungkook and Jin? They want to cook something—”

“You do not want Namjoon there,” Yoongi said with a chuckle. Namjoon rolled his eyes. “He might be good at everything, but cooking is where we cross the line.”

“Are you that bad?” You winced at the idea of burnt overcooked and under cooked food.

“I burnt eggs one time and put a lot of salt, and suddenly it’s the end of the world,” Namjoon grumbled under his breath, putting on the blazer he had taken off and placed on his arm. “Anyway, we’ll try to come over tomorrow. But, just enjoy your time with the two. I know Hobi wants to come but he’s been busy with his work.”

“Oh, I know,” you said. “We’ve been texting.”

“You text?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. “Yeah! He got worried and he apologized for not visiting me a lot, but that he’s busy with work, so we agreed to meet up sometime this week.”

“Yeah, he was looking forward to the dinner,” Namjoon noted, now knowing he can text you. “But, that’s done and you don’t need to worry about that.”

You snorted. “I won’t.”

He and Yoongi leaned over to hug you goodbye, whispering they’ll visit with Jungkook and Jin, but to not get disappointed if they don’t.

As they left, you turned to Taehyung who was quiet. He was always quiet and you wished to see the talkative side that was always on the news.

“What happened to your knuckles?” You softly asked, grabbing onto his hand rather carefully to not weird him out.

Taehyung extended his hand to display his fingers and softly scoffed. “I was boxing with Jungkook. Never again.”

“Thankfully, it doesn’t look too bad,” you mumbled under your breath, inspecting his bruised knuckles while tenderly touching them to see if he would react to that. “You need to ice them.”

Softly chuckling, he shook his head. “I didn’t know that staying here meant that I would get my personal doctor.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his hand away so he could feel the sting on his wounds. “I’m not helping you anymore then since you’re complaining.” You could hear the small laughs escaping his lips at your dramatics. “No. Go away now.”

“I’m kidding, Y/n,” Taehyung said, wrapping a hand over your bicep to bring you closer. “Act all doctor to me. Wrap my wound and kiss it better.”

You gaped at him after hearing his words. “Where has this Taehyung been? You were so quiet with them.”

“I get nervous talking to you around the others,” he admitted with a shrug. “I enjoy watching you interact, too, so I just love watching instead of butting in.”

“I love the fact that you are much more teasing like this,” you said with admission because you did like seeing this side of him. You had expected Yoongi to be the quietest, but he was very chatty with you and could maintain conversation. Taehyung was the quietest—around you—and you always wished you could see the side he showed to the media. “Also, do you not have boxing gloves? I feel like it could’ve prevented this terrible tear of skin.”

Taehyung blinked. “I just wanted to use my fists more in case I came to a situation where I need to use my bare hands. Either way, it’s not the first time I’ve taken boxing lessons without gloves.”

You stayed silent and he looked at your face to find an answer.

“You’re surprising me today, Taehyung.”

He stayed with you until 2 AM, much to your surprise.

It wasn’t that you begged him to stay, none of that. He just had trouble leaving you alone when you couldn’t even stand on your own two feet without stumbling away. What if someone broke in? He knew you had guards outside your home, working hard, but what if one of them accidentally fell asleep and left you vulnerable? Hell, no.

He couldn’t shake his concerns away even when he made it home.

“Did you beat up someone else?” Yoongi mused as he watched Taehyung walk pass his office.

Taehyung stopped in his footsteps at being talked to and turned to head inside Yoongi’s office. He sat in front of him, a sigh escaping his lips to depict his emotions. Though, Yoongi couldn’t identify what he was truly feeling.

Taehyung wasn’t one to let his feelings be shown very easily.

“We ate together and we watched a movie,” he breathed out in a hushed voice, almost as if talking loud would wake everyone in the house. “We laughed, we talked, I took care of her, and she took care of me.” He felt his throat clog up a bit due to the overwhelming feeling of falling deeper for a person he knew would be gone in a year. “You should’ve seen her, Yoongi. I have never seen her laugh as hard as she did when we were watching her favorite movie and it just… It brought me such happiness at hearing that.”

Yoongi stayed silent and watched him struggle to form his thoughts. He smiled. “You need to process you’re in love with her.”

“But, she’ll be gone.”

“Unless we let her slip away from us that easily,” Yoongi said in hopes to reassure him. “We have enough time with her, either way. We have months—”

“It’s not enough,” Taehyung shook his head.

“Taehyung,” Yoongi started, clasping his hands together to have a serious conversation with the raven-haired boy, “you need to stop letting your past get to you into thinking someone you get close with is going to abandon you. Even if Y/n doesn’t like us then guess what? She’ll be our friend. She’s not the type of person to just leave. Get to know her and when the time comes, then we’ll talk to her about our feelings, okay?”

“Our feelings?” Taehyung frowned with glossy eyes.

Yoongi shrugged and looked down at his phone.

“She won’t leave.”

< before - after >

[piarelei]

Touch starved

AU where the Navy cares about mental health but in the most annoying way possible.

The Program had Jake noted down as recalcitrant. He couldn’t deny the truth of it. 

In his early career, he would have never believed that the Navy could one day so strongly advocate for mental health. The Program’s agent was staring placidly at him from the other side of his kitchen table, his file between her manicured hands. She was someone who was used to scrutiny and did it in turn without an ounce of shame. 

“I’m afraid we will have to see improvement or the Program will have to ground you. Temporarily, of course.” 

Jake looked away. He had to swallow his first impulse. He was not suited to begging. “I’ve never been a great sleeper, you know. That has nothing to do with the job.” 

She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “You understand that we cannot allow access to such expensive and destructive weapons to someone who is already under duress.” 

Jake clenched his teeth. There was no point in arguing, but it didn’t stop him from trying. “Part of the job is being under duress. I’ve always known how to deal.” 

“We are doing things differently now.” She looked down at the file in her hands. “Well, I see that at least you have been regular with the monitor, despite a rocky start. This is good.”

Jake had to do his best not to sneer. 

“Now, you have refused therapy, counsel, journaling, meditation and yoga classes, art and animal therapy, and a number of other things. If I listed them all we would be here for hours. No point in losing time.” 

Jake crossed his arms and lifted his chin, defiant. 

“I suggest that our next step is assigning you to buddy,” she continued on, placidly. She lifted a hand when he opened his mouth to talk. “Actually, before you answer, I have to let you know that if you refuse, I won’t be able to keep you in the air any longer. We need to see that you are willing to put in the work.” 

He swallowed. “What if I get therapy now?” 

She smiled again, lipstick-stained mouth thinning into some disingenuous. “That would be a step in the right direction. But I’m afraid we need more from you this time. We want someone to monitor you closely in your journey.” 

Sweat gathered in his palms. Him, who so proudly claimed to be able to withstand anything, anxious at the idea of a stranger embedded in his intimacy. 

“We have already found a volunteer to help you. He’s a familiar face, it shouldn’t be too hard for you both to be roommates. There’s a car waiting for you outside, you can pack and it’ll drive you to your new home for the next few weeks.” 

Jake had the strongest urge to simply book it out of here, forget about his entire life rooted in the Navy and start anew. Maybe in Europe. 

She stood up, gathering her things, straightening her uniform. “I do hope that we do not have to see each other again, Lieutenant. Best of luck.” 

He nodded but did not offer any parting words. 

#

Bradley Bradshaw was waiting for him on the stoop of their new abode. Jake almost swore up a storm at his sight, but waited until the car had disappeared from view to do so. 

“Nice to see you too, Hangman,” Bradshaw offered with a new slump to his shoulders, leaning back against the railing. 

“What, surprised?” Jake asked, already feeling too tight in his own skin. “Weren’t you briefed?” 

“Well, nobody gave me your name, you know that damn well. I honestly didn’t think of you when they gave me your case.” 

“Oh yeah? Too neurotic to make you think of me?”

Rooster shrugged. “Probably should have, honestly. Recalcitrant. Individualist. Anxious about low stress situations. Insomniac.” Bradshaw reached out a hand to touch Jake’s shoulder, light as a feather. “Touch starved.” 

Jake swatted his hand away. “Fuck off. Nothing that getting laid cannot resolve.” 

Rooster made a face. “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

“Sure does. Now, are you getting ready to go out or do I have the pleasure of my own company?”

“I don’t really have a choice now, do I?” 

“You’re the one who volunteered.” 

#

The club Jake elected as his hunting ground for the night was packed to the brim. Bradshaw gave him a wild-eyed look as they passed the door and tried to reach for him before Jake slinked away. He did not bother to see if Rooster could follow. 

The bodies pressed against him, warm and sweaty, and it was almost good. Jake pulled himself into the frenzy of writhing people, barely listening to the music, only reacting to the foreign touches of strangers all around him. He let hands guide his hips and lips find his neck, before they lost interest and turned around. Manicured nails racked through his hair. A large arm pulled him tight and let him go almost just as fast. 

Jake was soaking it all up. He did not linger on the brevity of touches because it had always been inevitable. Jake was not to be kept. He was mostly fine with that. 

But then, there were hands at his shoulders and the off-beat sway of a large body, a palm cupping his head to let it rest against a collarbone and Bradshaw was burning to the touch, as comforting as a campfire in a silent forest. 

They stayed together for a long moment, coming to a standstill by the second song and completely immobile by the third. Jake’s hands were shaking. His heart was cradled in his chest, steady. The knot in his stomach was gone, but was fighting to come back, lingering at the edges of his consciousness. 

“Come on,” said Bradshaw, “let’s go home.” 

#

Bradshaw put him into bed and Jake was too ashamed to even speak. Now that Bradshaw was a careful two feet away, he could not believe that he had been tamed by a hug. 

He stared hotly at the ceiling, until Rooster’s monstrous hand gently covered his eyes, lashes fluttering against his palm. 

“Sleep,” he instructed. 

Jake tried to disobey, but Rooster stayed seated by his side until he gave in. He slept.

I don't know if I have energy for more of this AU (I always say that lmao). Give it some love with a reblog !

[luna-rainbow]

i saw someone recently say that they preferred sambucky over stevebucky (either platonic or romantic tbh) because they felt bucky was happier not living under the shadow of his former self? suggesting that he intentionally spent most of him time post winter soldier away from steve because he didn't want to be compared to a former version of himself that he couldn't return to? I'm a big lover of stevebucky so the idea that steve wouldn't be able to stop comparing (even if subconsciously) post-ws bucky to pre-ws bucky made me question the ship slightly? or that bucky was actually happier without steve in the readjustment process bc he could become his own person without preconceived ideas of what he should be like hanging over his head. I've read a few fics about this and i kinda wanted to know what u thought - would steve's knowledge of the old bucky affect their relationship so negatively that bucky would be happier alone/with people unfamiliar with who he was before (sorry for the rambling question)

Thank you lovely for the very interesting ask! I love these kind of hypotheticals!

First and foremost, don't ever let anyone convince you that you're only allowed to ship one pairing. A lot of people DO only ship one ship, and kudos to them, but you are not a bad fan if you want to ship Bucky with multiple people. Heck, I got into Stucky via Sambucky, and uh…anyway, here I am.

The idea that "Bucky stayed away from Steve because he didn't want to be compared to old Bucky" is one of my favourite angsty "loss of innocence" tropes to explore -- because yes, that's going to be one of Bucky's major insecurities after the Winter Soldier. He isn't the same person as before and no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to go back to who he was before.

The absolutely fascinating part, then, is how a fanfic writer decides to address this. So yeah, I can see this as the jumping board for a SamBucky story (or any other non Stucky ship).

But this is also a concept that not only fits in well within the Stucky fanon/narrative, it's also crucial to explore in order to bring the two of them back together. How does Steve accept that Bucky has changed, and how does Bucky come to trust that Steve accepts this changed version of him?

The answer is, for me, this is Steve we're talking about. Steve with all his tenacity and empathy and loyalty. This is Steve who's known Bucky since childhood, who probably knows Bucky better than the current Bucky remembers himself. This is also a Steve has fought one of the bloodiest wars in history. He is young, but he's not naive. The people of his time didn't have the right words for it - but he has seen a lot of mental health issues on the field. He's come out on the other end of the war still believing in the goodness of humans (his "I'm willing to bet I'm not" speech), so I have no doubt he will look at Bucky and see that -- yeah, you've changed, you've had terrible things happen to you for well over half a century, but you are also still the same kind soul that I grew up with, and that kindness is what's most important; I can still see him in you, even if you are different, and I believe you deserve all the love I can give you.

And you know what, there IS canon evidence that Steve believes in Bucky, believes in the goodness that couldn't be burned away with 70 years of brainwashing. Sam saying to Steve - (Bucky) isn't the kind you save and he won't know you - and Steve replying without an ounce of doubt in his voice, "He will." Or Steve going after Bucky to save him from the SIT because "he'd have done the same for me".

I think another crux is that recent gif set - the "I'm following the little guy from Brooklyn" speech. That was a vow - it was Bucky saying "I loved you (platonically/romantically/wte) when you were a poor disabled scruffy kid in the dumps, and I will love you just the same even if you're a buff blue-eyed Adonis." Their story, as always, encircles each other's - it is now Steve's turn to say "I loved you when you were a nerdy protective flirt and I will love you just the same even if you're disabled and scruffy and dealing with horrendous PTSD". I think that vow also highlights just how important Steve was, even at that point, to Bucky, which means…their loyalty will always draw them back to each other. Once Bucky sees Steve has faith in him, he will have faith in himself to rebuild his identity in a way that's true to him.

It really depends on the writer, but most versions I’ve seen in which Steve and Bucky separate (over this issue) write Steve as either obtuse, selfish or emotionally immature…which is not how I read him to be. I think he has the emotional maturity to accept that Bucky will have similarities but will also have stark differences to who he once was...but then, time leaves its mark on everyone it touches, not just Bucky (I kinda touched on that concept on my "Learning to Want" fic *self plug*). It's a rough road and on some days there's going to be more setbacks than progress, and yeah on some days Steve is going to get frustrated and upset and maybe even a little defeatist, but I think both he and Bucky have that tenacious survivor streak in them that will pull them through, especially if they're together.

[yallemagne]

Luthur (Lucy/Arthur) Propaganda

I'm writing this with all the pent-up rage of an entire year of seeing "Lucy's so dumb, she should have picked my favourite suitor" posts and "who should Lucy have chosen?" polls that always result in practically no votes for Arthur.

This is not an anti-Jack or anti-Quincey post by any means, though it may come across as defensive. It is just a pro-let-Lucy-choose-for-herself post. And yes, letting her choose for herself even includes letting her be monogamous when she has made the conscious decision to remain monogamous.

So, to the proposal descriptions--

Seward tries to hide his anxiety by putting up a front of sternness. From how Lucy describes it, it sounds like he's negotiating a contract:

He spoke to me, Mina, very straightforwardly. He told me how dear I was to him, though he had known me so little, and what his life would be with me to help and cheer him. He was going to tell me how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but when he saw me cry he said that he was a brute and would not add to my present trouble. Then he broke off and asked if I could love him in time; and when I shook my head his hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me if I cared already for any one else. He put it very nicely, saying that he did not want to wring my confidence from me, but only to know, because if a woman's heart was free a man might have hope. And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one. I only told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.

Sounds like he hardly popped the question so much as stated: "I would be honoured to have you (I need you I need you I need you I need you) as my wife. If you don't love me back, I will die."

This proposal comes across as very neurodivergent to me. He goes into it thinking mostly about what he wants from Lucy and how good the marriage would be for his mental health, not stopping to consider if she's already seeing someone (literally the man who introduced them) or just maybe... that he's putting too much of a burden on her with this style of proposal. This approach would work better with another no-nonsense B, but Lucy is overwhelmed. He didn't think of her feelings in the matter because he was too busy schooling his own emotions so he wouldn't screw it all up. It comes across as very scripted until he sees that he's upset Lucy-- that is when we get a glimpse of his care for her. But then he's back to his bullet points of "but could you love me one day? do you love another now? on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate this interaction?"

Lucy gets through Seward's entire proposal without getting carried away and writing about Arthur instead, but with Quincey--

I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him. I know now what I would do if I were a man and wanted to make a girl love me. No, I don't, for there was Mr. Morris telling us his stories, and Arthur never told any, and yet—— My dear, I am somewhat previous.

She certainly finds Quincey charming, but she cuts herself off to talk about Arthur. While she momentarily thinks that telling adventurous tales would win a woman's heart, she says that it didn't win her own. There's a sort of peacocking going on with Quincey prefacing his proposal with tales of his adventures. It's very much like Seward's stoic attempt but with far more confidence and pizzazz.

Mr. Quincey P. Morris found me alone. It seems that a man always does find a girl alone. No, he doesn't, for Arthur tried twice to make a chance, and I helping him all I could; I am not ashamed to say it now. 

Quincey "found [her] alone". Now, before, she said "Mr. Morris was telling us his stories"-- who is us? I am guessing that perhaps Lucy's mother or someone else was sitting in as a chaperone? And then Quincey found an opportunity to talk to her in private?

Again, she drifts off talking about Arthur while she's trying to explain Quincey. "Arthur tried twice to make a chance"-- my best guess for what this means is that Arthur has tried to have un-chaperoned time with Lucy twice before in order to propose to her, but he never succeeded despite her attempts to aid him.

Which makes this all so much funnier? Some joke that the Suitors probably arranged it all, but this hints that Arthur has been trying his damndest to propose, but the one day he actually gets a chance to, he finds out his two friends proposed to her first! Those dogs!!

I do not know myself if I shall ever speak slang; I do not know if Arthur likes it, as I have never heard him use any as yet.

Lucy interrupts her "haha the silly American talks silly American gibberish" with "would Arthur like it if I spoke this way?" Gah, she's so in love with him. It's funny that she says she's never heard him use slang considering she's already mentioned "Dress is a bore." which she even called slang.

Well, he did look so good-humoured and so jolly that it didn't seem half so hard to refuse him as it did poor Dr. Seward; so I said, as lightly as I could, that I did not know anything of hitching, and that I wasn't broken to harness at all yet. Then he said that he had spoken in a light manner, and he hoped that if he had made a mistake in doing so on so grave, so momentous, an occasion for him, I would forgive him. [...] And then, my dear, before I could say a word he began pouring out a perfect torrent of love-making, laying his very heart and soul at my feet. He looked so earnest over it that I shall never again think that a man must be playful always, and never earnest, because he is merry at times. I suppose he saw something in my face which checked him, for he suddenly stopped, and said with a sort of manly fervour that I could have loved him for if I had been free...

She remarks that Quincey's more light-hearted nature makes him easier to refuse than Seward. However, she finds it harder to reject him when he drops the act and starts behaving more earnestly. She finds it easier to imagine loving him when he's being sincere. She doesn't have this same thought with Seward because, unfortunately, even when he snapped out of his legal negotiation of the potential marriage, he still kept himself emotionally guarded through the rest of the interaction.

Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble? But this is heresy, and I must not say it.

I must say... Lucy here is not saying "I want a harem of men.". Stop. Just stop saying that she is. That interpretation has led to every single adaptation that brands her an insincere cheater who strings along men and deserves to be punished by the narrative. Just stop. What she is expressing here is guilt at not having an option that would please all parties involved. She's been raised as a people-pleaser, but in this scenario, there is no choice she could make that wouldn't lead to someone being hurt. So, she makes the decision to follow her heart rather than her guilty conscience.

And think, just earlier, Jack planted this seed of insecurity by saying that he'll be upset if she does not love him. And then goes even further to imply her loving another robs him of his hope. It makes it so that, even when Quincey is more gracious in accepting her refusal, she can't help but beat herself up for practically destroying these men's lives (hyperbole, of course) all for her own happiness!!

Lucy clearly displays polyamorous traits. She laments that, if she did not love Arthur so much, she could love Quincey (rip Seward). But she has chosen not to explore those feelings. Part of her cutting herself off while writing about Quincey to talk about Arthur could be subconsciously reminding herself: "nope, there is no chance with him, I want Arthur". She compares the two constantly as if to remind herself she made the right choice. There's also her love for Mina, but she has plausible deniability in this era and can claim that as just classic girl love.

But when she considers a woman marrying "as many men as want her" it is not reflective of her being polyamorous because she doesn't have this thought out of "I love these three men enough to marry them" but "I feel guilty about being loved by three men at once, and I have to repay the favour somehow, but I can't". She does not say "as many men as she wants" because it's not about the woman's feelings but about the feelings of the men that surround her. But you know what? She showed agency when she picked the man she wanted and didn't bow and pick the man who would be the most devastated upon being rejected, and I'm proud of her.

Lucy is incredibly brief when describing Arthur's proposal, but let's. just. think about this. Previously, she has tried to hold back her overwhelming love for Arthur in her writing to Mina (she failed, lol). Other than wanting to be discreet, she explains:

My dear, this quite upset me, and I feel I cannot write of happiness just at once, after telling you of it; and I don't wish to tell of the number three until it can be all happy.

She doesn't want to taint her happy feelings with bitterness about how "oh, I'm so horrible and selfish for picking the man I love! I don't deserve to be loved by anyone!" And even then, she goes into a bit more detail in her post-script:

P.S.—Oh, about number Three—I needn't tell you of number Three, need I? Besides, it was all so confused; it seemed only a moment from his coming into the room till both his arms were round me, and he was kissing me. I am very, very happy, and I don't know what I have done to deserve it. I must only try in the future to show that I am not ungrateful to God for all His goodness to me in sending to me such a lover, such a husband, and such a friend.

Such a friend. Before this, Seward and Quincey were not friends of Lucy's. They were acquaintances that knew her through Arthur (though she does not explicitly state this about Quincey, so she could have met him somewhere else?), and upon being rejected romantically, they swore friendship to her. Before then, they saw her as a potential bride.

But Arthur was already a friend to Lucy. They have been close for longer than she's known either of her other suitors, and while they'd never said the L-word (love) to each other before, I think what wins Lucy's heart is that Arthur is genuine with her. We don't get to see it (she teases us!! how dare!!), but that feels like the most plausible thing that would set him apart from Seward and Quincey. Now, the other two are honest men (we see it when they comfort her), but they both initially put up a front to impress/entertain Lucy. Meanwhile, Arthur doesn't bother with that. He comes into the room, and she's practically already in his arms! It's so effortless with him. She doesn't have to imagine herself being happy and in love with him because she already is.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting two hours a week to spend with my now ex boyfriend?

My (24M) long distance ex boyfriend (21M) have known each other for five years but only started dating at the beginning of this year. My ex has been going through a rough patch in life. It's been months since he started feeling down, and I tried to give him the space and attention he needed during it. I was hoping the little vacation we had a few months ago would help perk him up, but it seems it only added a delay to an emotional crash.

A few weeks ago, he suddenly told me he wanted to stop using discord, our main form of communication, so that he could work on balance his life. I was asleep at the time he sent it and I spent all day agonizing and freaking out over it since it would dramatically cut the time we spent together. My love language is primarily quality time, so to hear him saying we can't even talk as much freaked me out. I bounced it off a mutual friend (20M) and asked if I should give him a few weeks to see how he does, since the mutual friend and I both believe it's a good idea for him to find balance in his life if he's struggling. The mutual friend said that it's not a bad idea to wait and see if he gets better. I agreed to it but I ended up agonizing over it with my already volatile emotional state (I had, just a week earlier, lost a childhood pet and had a fight with my father/roommate (44M)).

Over the few weeks, it only felt like my ex wanted to spend less time with me. He continued to use all social media, even discord, but rarely talked to me. I would see him playing video games when he was off of work and when I asked if he needed any with anything in them, he'd say no. On the few days he was off work, he was completely unreachable, saying he's doing stuff with family yet I could see him still using social media. I felt extremely hurt and abandoned, my mental health was only degrading further. I let him be in hopes that he'd be back.

I did my best to not push my personal emotional state on my ex, mostly sending my fears of our relationship ending to the mutual friend. As the weeks passed, it seemed that my ex was perking up a little despite the limited contact with me, and after bouncing it off my father to get a better idea of how to approach this, with many breakdowns, I decided to give it until the weekend to ask my ex if we could spend a few hours each week. I'm starting school soon so I'll be swamped with 50+ hrs of schoolwork on top of 20hrs or work. It had been a great relief when I spent similar time, in my past semesters, with my ex and was hoping to find a balance for his needs and mine for the relationship.

However, it went horrible, my ex kept bringing up multiple reasons for not spending time with me, saying family, work, apparently My Own needs in the relationship (which irked me) before saying he can't do it for his own health. I asked him how I should try to love him and he said to focus on school and work, but he asked if the limited communications was bothering me and how it's bothering me. I told him how I felt over the past few weeks, but I offered to keep staying distant if he really needs it. I was truthful that it was going to hurt me badly.

He proceeds to send a message saying how my message to him made him uncomfortable and how its unhealthy how I'm feeling and with how I treated his boundaries in the past (which I'm confused about because I always respected his boundaries and double checked on situations and actions that could have been uncomfortable for him) that we should stop talking and likely blocked me on discord and left every server we share.

So, am I the asshole in this situation? I'd give me some peace of mind to know if I really am the asshole.

What are these acronyms?

[spilledmilkfkdies]

Hi, me again! I was just wondering, following the ‘what if the wizards were actually surrendering’ ask, if the wizards really did give up fairy hunting, what do you think they’d do? (Sorry if I’m sending you too many asks, I just really like your takes.) Thank you!

Hiii sorry it took me a sec to get to this one!! I'll put a link to that ask right here for anyone who's wondering, since it's been a bit. Never worry about sending too many asks either, like I said a while back; I'll get to them eventually! If it takes some time before you hear back from me, sincerely <3 My bad <3 Was a little occupied with another fandom this time and actively participating in both got to me djsksdk

Moving on though!

In my mind they've really already been living normally, like between locking away the fairies and Roxy's magic making itself known I mean- Of course the logistics of it are a bit um. All over the place. Considering they're immortal, sort of. Do they have legal documents? Real or fake? Did they have any mortal friends and how would that work? And JOBS?? The way none of these are obstacles for Duman btw, that's why they killed him, they didn't want him to roam and do whatever anymore. Real and Canon.

Now in a post-alt ending-S4 timeline, the one where they did surrender, do we assume that they just can't use their magic, or that they don't have it anymore? Because that'd probably change the way they live afterwards pretty drastically. Aside from the fact some of them heavily depend on magic more than the others (Ogron and Duman get help smh), HORRENDOUS case scenario, they might all be mortal. For the sake of my own mental health though, I'm just gonna say they do still have magic and are in fact not mortal, just give them a fairy parole officer, some magic blocking thing, keep them around and use them for "good" stuff after a rehabilitation period or something. That's what I'd prefer anyway.

What would they be doing during said rehabilitation period? Started out as a bit of a shared joke, but tbh Anagan model career WHEN. He'd struggle with the lack of useable magic the least too, so he'd probably thrive during the whole thing more than the others, and as he should. Besides Anagan I don't have a whole lot ngl- I mean, I'd like to think Duman had lots of jobs back in the day, not sure if I mentioned that before, but I might make a separate post if I didn't, just because I have thoughts but other stuff to talk about rn sjsjksk

Ogron and Gantlos don't have a lot either MY BAD, but I do think Ogron might be more likely to have friends, maybe surprisingly. Meanwhile Gantlos has a bigger chance of being able to hold down a stable job. What job? Great question! I'm not sure yet. If that changes I'll be sharing with the class!

Moving on once again!! What could the "good" stuff I mentioned above be exactly? Education.

Correct me if I'm wrong. But are there no. Wizard or witch school on Earth?? I know they ended up opening a fairy school later on, but those aren't the only magic users suddenly learning of the dormant magic in their roots. Let's take the comic character Gregory for example. He learns he's a wizard, he tries to enroll into a wizard school(?) off planet. Nothing inherently wrong with going to a school off planet- The Winx did it too, lots of magic users do it, what is wrong though, is being turned down and having no alternatives. And even worse?? They tell him it's because. There's a darkness in him?? Or something?? I could excuse it slightly more if it was a case of "Oh your magic is dark aligned and this is a light magic school" because wizard canonically are known to be both, right? But aside from the fact that, again, there are no alternatives for him, as far as he knows, telling a newly awakened magic user that he's basically too evil to teach is CRAZY I'm sorry??

Here's where I cutely insert the Wizards of the Black Circle. Have them become the place to go when your magic energy alignment is dark (because it doesn't inherently have to mean evil and they're worthy of education in this essay I) on Earth, or even just. Any magic user who isn't a fairy. Just give them another Terrestrial option, options are always good. I think that'd be really neat.

You might sit here and go "The evil wizards are gonna teach the next generation of wizards? Could history not repeat itself??" Well. Yeah. But are the Terrestrial fairies not teaching their next generation now too? The same fairies who canonically turned on humanity at some point? These are all 'what if' scenarios, I'd just like to think that with proper communication this time around, things will be different and both fairy and wizard get to work towards that together. I'm normal and have slept a reasonable amount.

[jolalibrary]

Hi Jo!

How did you get into writing fanfic?

I’m sorry I’ve sat on this for so long, but I wanted to make sure I answered it with the full attention it deserves. I apologise for the length 😂.

I began this as to how, but then also why? and it got long.

warnings for: jo being overly open, sharing things she doesn’t usually, mentions of mental health, mention but not discussion of sexual trauma poor sleep, and again, oversharing. I don’t think I’ve been this open ever, so be gentle with me.

so, I began writing fanfic in 2015. I discovered it on accident, I was doom scrolling on Pinterest, trying to see if I could make some tree decorations in an insomnia bout (because I’d already completed TLOU - irony I know) and discovered a fanfic.

and I was lost in it, 200k deep and then I read another, and another, and I don’t know why I had an idea to attempt to write my own, but I did, and I poured all of my pain into it. (I eventually took this fic down because it was so freaking personal and painful to have up - and it’s still shared now by several people which irks me a lot). but god at the time? it healed me. and it brought me two people who I still talk to to this day, even if we don’t live in the same timezone.

I stayed in that fandom until 2018 when I left and continued only writing for daredevil (which id joined in like 2016).

and then in 2019 I stopped all together due to bad mental health, and just personal things in my life (I really wasn’t doing that well and wanted a bit of a reset).

it was then I began writing an original story. working on it obsessively, eventually shaping it to show some agents at a writing festival in 2020 (virtually, cause of the rona). and it was good, I met with three and two of them loved it. i had amazing feedback, including requests, and I should have been happy, right?

well, I FREAKED out. my little romcom could be something? I sobbed, I broke down, I couldn’t get out of bed for two days and I was a mess.

now, the reasons as to why, is still fuzzy to me. but I assume it’s because all of my life I’d truly believed that Im not good at anything. and writing was this one thing I had to myself, that I shared but never expected anything. and then, suddenly there was expectations, and the reality that people had read it—people who could do things with it, terrified me.

their nice words had weight, meaning? and yet they felt like iron pokers against my skin. even through therapy I don’t like delving into the why’s the what’s, but I assume it’s a combination of lack of self belief and the foundation I’m built on (and why I struggle with compliments) but also the fact it went from a hobby to something that could be something. and I think I freaked at it.

from here, my mental health took a big hit, I was so anxious I couldn’t leave the house and by the end of that year I was back to where I was in 2019, but if anything, much worse?

I didn’t know who I was. all the trauma i thought I’d healed from, rose up inside of me and it took me ages to finally be able to even think about writing again. I was broken. reset to more than factory settings because I couldn’t even recall what I liked? what I loved (outside of my husband and dog). I was a shadow wandering around, going from appointment to appointment.

and then, because he’s an amazing soul, my husband suggested I write fanfic again. start again, try. and I did. I potted around under a different name and then in 2022 i grabbed mvtthewmurdvck back, and I came back through call of duty.

by the end of that year, I found narcos 💁‍♀️ (javi supremacy) and here we are, 2024.

I say a lot that writing saved me, and it literally did.

and I rarely share all of this, but I’m not ashamed of my story, but sometimes I feel I should have been stronger?

but actually, I’m strong for getting up even when I was knocked down. I rebuilt, I reshaped and I discovered threads in myself I’d never known was there. and that took guts.

I was able to discover my sex drive, a thing I’ve struggled with (even in my loving and brilliant relationship) after some trauma when I was 15 with my boyfriend at the time (iykyk). I was able to write scenarios that I could then bring into my own life, and I wrote an entire fic (ILTWY) that helped me discover that I actually love sex. that I love pleasure in all its forms.

I was able to find my heart again, and write a romcom that made me find people I couldn’t be without now, but also, show myself that I can still write a romcom, and that thing in 2020 was just a blip, it wasn’t a sign and it wasn’t a thing that would define me.

and, even now, while I’m struggling to even smile, and I cried putting my eyebrows on this morning, I wrote my feelings out into a Drabble I’m not sure if I’ll share, that made me feel like I could go to work today and cope.

I say that notes and things aren’t my focus here, but never really explained why, but this, all above, is why. writing is there for me, it’s a crutch, it’s a saviour when the world feels too much. it was a thing that I lived without for a short period, but when I came back to it, it was like returning home.

and the best part? I get to share my words with you, I get to think “maybe this will resonate with people” and find that sometimes, it does. I get to be a comfort, to make someone smile, to make you laugh or even make you feel a little horny hahahah. and that means MORE to me, because when I was lost, afraid and terrified of the voice in my head, someone else’s words did that for me. they held me close, they helped me stop and pause and take a breath.

and that’s how I got into writing fanfic, and why it will forever be something special to me.

an: I haven’t edited this, and I’m shaking, so if there’s spelling mistakes, ignore.

[seeminglydeathlessredshirt]

Ramblings on Disco Elysium

It's taken me a bit to gather my thoughts on this one.

There are some pieces of media out there that people will heap praise after praise upon, to the point where you keep putting it off because there's no way it'll live up to the reputation established by everyone else. Of those, you'll eventually get around to some of them, and realise, to your horror, that they are as good as everyone's been saying. Disco Elysium is exactly that experience.

Before I get into why I adore this game, I feel I should point out that the original devs got the boot a while back and got even more screwed over by the company that owns the title. It's hard to summarise, but simply put, don't buy the game. Also, I'm not going to be discussing specific plot details, but I will be talking about some overarching tropes and concepts that may clue you in on some of the things the story has hidden up its sleeve.

As you likely already know, the game centres around an absolute wreck of a human being. Poor health, mental and physical, and a tendency to do or say things that are generally ill-advised. Worst of all, you have no memory of how you got into this mess, the part of town you're in is reaching its boiling point, and the murder case you're here to solve is the only way you can make things right. Despite the outlandish nature of his behaviours, the detective is one of the most relatable characters I've seen in gaming. Seeing someone brought to their lowest point time and time again and trying to crawl their way out of the pit in a time where I've felt that low provided a bit of solace. That being said, it's not an easy climb, neither here nor there.

One of the most interesting things about this game is the way every single skill is giving a role to play, and not just in the way of having ample amounts of checks for each one, but also in giving them a defined personality. Electrochemistry is constantly egging you on to indulge in various substances, Encyclopedia won't tell you your own name but will tell you everything you ever wanted to know about the Coupris Kineema, Rhetoric speaks like a Tumblr user who's about to post the most rancid take you've ever seen, and so on. It all ties in wonderfully with this general otherworldly feeling that comes from the blending of the mundane and the unreal that becomes more apparent as time goes on.

It's in this space in-between the two where the game genuinely shines. The world feels genuinely outlandish, but the people and the conflicts feel real in their own little ways. Revachol lies at the intersection of the modern era's most well-known ideologies, and the consequences of that are felt in everyone you meet. You can fall in line with any one of them, but it won't have much an impact on the situation. You can help everyone you come across, build up trust with your equally fleshed-out companion, and preach about the replacement of the capitalist order with a classless utopia, but nothing can change the fact that you are a cop, the physical enforcer of the state's monopoly on violence. The characters will constantly remind you of what you are throughout the entire game, and it's important to understand that, despite getting to see the detective's own humanity, that his line of work requires doing inhuman things. Disco Elysium is about a lot of things, and the tension between combining two diametrically opposed concepts is one of them. It's a fantastic work of art, and I hope this isn't the last we see of the people who brought it to life.

Don't listen to Rhetoric.

[spacesapphi]

"Moving Forward, Spiraling Downward Chapter 9- Two Sides of the Same Coin"

WOOHOO another long chapter! This was a beast to write and draw for but very fun :) I've been itching to write about our favorite Joja coworkers being friends, and figured they needed to find something to connect over. Their dynamic and friendship is quite underrated imo

CWs for this chapter include mild emetophobia, talks of mental health issues and addiction, and mentions of war

Summary: Months after moving back in, Shane finds himself struggling to connect with just about everyone in town. Having changed so much makes him feel far too different to connect anymore, and it's the loneliest feeling he's known. He'd soon come to find that there's someone in town who understands him, someone he'd never expect.

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The Stardrop Saloon was loud, expectedly so for a Friday evening. The jukebox was blasting, folks convening to dine and drink, some spending their night in the rec room. Everyone was being social and cheery, making the best of their evening. Everyone except Shane, that is. He’d claimed the stool sitting between the bar counter and the fireplace, and most nights one could find him moping there, a tankard in hand. Tonight was no exception. Seven drinks in, his head was spinning, thoughts jumbling together into mush. He still felt like shit, there was no doubt, but alcohol at least let him quiet his mind for a moment. It hushed the voices in his head that spat out the most terrible of affronts, beating him while he was already down. 

He sat holding his head in one hand, swaying woozily as he stared down into his now empty tankard. He could see a warped reflection of himself in the glass, cringing as he stared at himself, taking in every detail of his sour expression. Emily flounced over, looking cheerful as ever, resting her hands on the counter in front of her friend, “Can I get you anything else?”

“Yeah…. ‘nother one…” he mumbled, passing the glass over to her with a limp arm. Emily carefully pushed it off to the side and gave him a knowing look, “You wanna try ordering some food? Another one doesn’t sound like a great idea,”

“C’mon Em, it’s my money, lemme get somethin’..”

“And you’re my friend, and I don’t think you need another,” Emily sighed, “You’ve been here every night this week, Shane. Maybe you should go home,”

“If I order some pizza will you drop it?” he grumbled, not particularly enjoying this lecture, “I already hear ‘nuff of this from my aunt,”

Emily nodded, turning to the food counter to get him a plate, “She’s just looking out for you, you know,”

“I know that,” Shane huffed, “But I’m not a child anymore, I can make my own decisions,”

Emily didn’t have anything to say in response, but the two of them silently understood what would’ve come next. Yes, Shane was in charge of his own decisions, but look where they landed him now. As much as he hated the lectures and scoldings from loved ones, he could never deny that they were right. It had been a few months now since he returned to town, the bitter air of Winter rolling in already. Everyone, especially Shane, had hoped to see him get better now that he was back, but that wasn’t exactly the case. There were good days, yes. But for every good day there seemed to be twice as many bad ones. Whenever something went well, Shane was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for things to go to shit again. And they always seemed to for him. As much as he didn’t want to be, he was more miserable than ever. Maybe his mindset was causing it, maybe he was cursed. Shane desperately wanted the cause of his problems to be anything but himself.

Perhaps the cheerful environment of town had something to do with it. Looking around the saloon, Shane could see groups of people laughing and enjoying themselves, going on about their days with little to worry about. Turning his gaze to Emily, he could see her chatting with some tall redheaded man who looked like he jumped straight from the cover of those strange Fabio romance novels he’d seen on his aunt's bookshelf. Emily looked happy, so full of life and vibrance. Not much had changed from when she was younger. She had always been a happy person, someone that brightened up every room she walked into. Shane was once that kind of person, a long, long time ago. But not anymore. He didn’t think he could ever be that person again, either. 

This entire town, its people, even through all the changes over the years it was still all the same. Still the quirky little village hidden in the mountains that had a happy bunch of folks living in it. He felt so out of place amongst them, like a leftover puzzle piece that had no place in the final picture. As much as he yearned to, he couldn’t connect with them the way he wanted to anymore. Emily was nice enough, she always was, but she didn’t understand what he’d been through. Shane felt like he’d lived a thousand lifetimes over the past five years, slogging through every torturous day only barely being able to keep his head above water, only doing so for Jas’ sake. It was an awful circumstance, one he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. And though he was surrounded by so many loved ones now, more than ever, he never felt more alone in his life.

The chatter and laughter amongst the patrons made him want to scream. He wanted to throw down his glass, yell and wail about how awful life had been, pulling everyone down with him. It was selfish, he knew, but it just wasn’t fair. Watching so many people have such happy and fulfilling lives while he struggled made him feel so much worse about himself. Why were they allowed to succeed when he wasn’t? Why could they follow their dreams when he had to drop everything? It almost felt like they were mocking him, taking a jab at his life and state. He was a magnet for misery, and it repelled him from all the happiest folks in the room. 

Speak of the devil, doth he appear. Perhaps the happiest person Shane had met in his life had just walked into the saloon, his two best friends in tow. He averted his gaze, hoping if he didn’t see Sam, then Sam wouldn’t see him. It was nothing against the guy… well, maybe it was. Shane, the jaded and standoffish man he was, often grew weary of Sam at work. The guy always seemed to try and strike up a conversation with him, about literally anything that would pop into his mind. Shane just wanted to shut off his brain while he worked, stock shelves, go to the saloon, and then home, no interruptions. He wasn’t interested in conversation or becoming friends with anyone he worked with. He’d just give the occasional nod or grunt of acknowledgement as Sam chatted away, and eventually he’d get the hint and go back to mopping the aisles.

Sam did notice him, but decided to back off for tonight. Every time he saw Shane he seemed to look tired and grumpy, but tonight it seemed worse. He looked like he’d snap at anyone who dared look in his direction, and Sam wasn’t going to be the one to face that. He simply left him alone, striding right into the rec room with Abigail and Sebastian to play pool. 

The three of them were loud, at least to Shane they were. They were younger, and it was to be expected, but when you were drunk and had a throbbing headache, it wasn’t exactly fun to listen to. He tried to focus on the music, or anything else in the main room of the saloon, but his mind kept going back to the trio in that backroom. He couldn’t make out every word they said, picking up bits and pieces about music and some new video game one of them was obsessing over. But mostly, he heard Sam. Shane still couldn’t understand the kid. No one could be that happy, no matter how good their life was… or at least how good he assumed it to be. He didn’t know much about him outside of work, only seeing him speak with his mom and brother in passing, occasionally watching him attempt a kickflip outside his house, or taking his brother to school and the playground. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary though, at least in his opinion. Maybe that’s what happened when you had a genuinely good life, no worries that completely engulfed every waking moment of your life. Damn, was he jealous.

Peeking his head back just for a moment, he watched the three of them lounging back there, chattering away as they played probably the worst game of pool he’d ever seen. They were awful at it to be sure, but obviously were having too much fun to mind. They looked so carefree, so happy. They reminded him so much of-

He refused to entertain the thought. It was the last thing he needed right now. But now that it was in his mind, it wouldn’t leave. Everytime he heard their voices, all he could hear was him and his friends, the way they used to joke and speak to each other. He covered his ears with his hands,digging his nails so hard into the side of his head he was sure he’d break skin. He could only take it for a few moments longer before sliding off his stool, stumbling towards the entrance in desperation to get away from it. His drinks hadn’t been paid for, but he knew Emily would just add it to his ever-growing tab, one he had no clue how to pay off. Each footstep towards the door felt like it took herculean effort and concentration. He always felt so much heavier when he was drunk, like he was about to topple over at any given moment. It was an annoying feeling, especially when he had a decently long walk ahead of him. He didn’t like being drunk, it was frustrating and a pain. But it sure as hell beat the soul crushing guilt and depression that haunted every moment of his life. 

After much time, and a stop to throw up, he finally made it home, grumbling as the bright lights of Marnie’s foyer pierced his eyes. Mumbling a curse under his breath, he turned towards the kitchen, lumbering woozily towards his bedroom door. Marnie was standing at the kitchen counter, long rubber gloves on her arms as she scrubbed away at some dinner dishes. She heard Shane approaching, scrunching up her nose as the thick scent of booze radiated off of him. 

“You’re home late. Again.” She stated ever so matter-of-factly, a twinge of annoyance in her tone. Shane shrugged disinterestedly, “Yeah. I know,” he looked to the table, seeing a little coloring page and a tin of crayons sitting on its edge, “Where’s Jas?”

“Bed. Hours ago.” Marnie huffed, pursing her lips in frustration, “Third time this week I had to take care of that, Shane,”

“I know… I’m sorry,” a wave of shame hit him, the guilt piercing his heart, “I’ll be home earlier tomorrow, I promise.”

“Just like you promised today?”

“Aendi…”

“I don’t think you should go at all,” Marnie pulled the gloves from her hands, turning to face him, “How much money have you spent there this week?”

“I don’t have to-”

“How. Much.”

“I don’t know, like…” Shane did the mental math, cringing at the amount inwardly, “Probably 9,000g, not that much,”

“You know you’re in debt, you can’t be spending money so wastefully… Not to mention the health aspect,” Marnie sighed, trying her hardest to not be too harsh on him. She knew this was a struggle for him. As much as she didn’t like this, he didn’t either. It was still so hard to watch, so hard to sit on the sidelines and watch his physical and mental health decline by the day, “Shane I just want you to be healthy,”

“I’m fine,” Shane grumbled, averting his gaze. He knew she was giving him a disappointed look, and he didn’t want to see it, “I can handle myself,”

“It’s not fair to Jas either,” Marnie scolded, “She waited all night for you to come home and read a story to her. You need to be prioritizing h-”

“I am prioritizing her,” Shane snapped, “I work my ass off every day to afford what she wants and needs. I am so exhausted at the end of the day, the saloon is the one thing I do for myself. I make sure she has what she needs, I make sure she's happy, you know that, aendi!”

“Do you, Shane?”

“What’re you implying?” Shane spat, a defensive anger welling up in him and displaying on his face. Marnie stood her ground, giving him a quite similar look.

“If that were true, I wouldn't watch Jas sit by the door and wait for you to get home until she can't keep her eyes open any longer, would I? I wouldn't have to hear her ask where you are every night. I wouldn't see her cry when she thinks no one is looking,” she huffed, giving him a stern look, “Shane, that little girl is not happy… and neither are you.”

“.... Does she really do that?”

“You would know if you were home more.” Marnie scolded, “I know you need space and time for yourself, but this is getting out of hand and you know it. All of this, going to the saloon until midnight, coming home wasted… It's selfish.”

The weight of embarrassment and shame weighed down on Shane's chest, making him feel like he couldn't breathe. Just like always, Marnie was right. He'd been slipping from the moment he moved back in, and it was becoming more and more noticeable. All that talk about this being a fresh start was for nothing. He took a good step forward, and immediately fell ten steps back. Marnie noticed him on the verge of tears, immediately softening her tone and words. 

“She needs you, Shane,” Marnie sighed, “You need to work on making connections here, getting your problems under control so you can be there for her. There’s programs for it, you know. Pam suggested one that she’s gone to in the pa-”

“Oh yeah, because that worked out so well for her,” Shane hissed out with a sarcastic lilt in his voice. Marnie gave him a warning look in response. 

“You need to watch how you talk about her,” she scolded, “She’s just as worried about you, you know. Asked about you everyday when you were gone,”

“How many times are you going to bring that up?” Shane groaned, exasperation in his voice, “There’s nothin’ I can do to change what happened, and you makin’ me feel like shit about it doesn’t help. I messed up! I know that! But there’s nothin’ I can do!”

The two stayed silent for a moment, refusing to look each other in the eye. Their conversations had slowly been getting more and more strained over the past few months. Marnie had watched a steady decline with him, one that she could do little to help with. Shane resisted help at every turn, far too proud to seek out any external source to get his issues under control. He insisted that he could do it on his own, that he didn’t need anyone meddling in his affairs to get better. She tried to trust him, to believe him. It wasn’t like she could force him to do anything, after all. But watching her boy deteriorate into someone she hardly recognized, watching him close himself off from family and friends, it made her so, so worried. 

“I just want you to be okay. I want this family to be okay,” Marnie’s voice grew softer, much more understanding, “This path you’re on kills… I'm watching you throw your life away, and I just…” she exhaled deeply, closing her eyes, “Schatz, I am too old to raise another child. I need you to take better care of yourself, for everyone’s sake… especially for Jas. You need to be better than this,”

“.... I don't think I know how to be better.” Shane whispered, his tone utterly defeated. He wanted to get defensive again, to tell her to back off and let him handle things. But even in his drunken stupor, he could understand that she was right. This path was dangerous, he was selfish, he did need to be better than this. But he couldn’t admit it. He was still far too proud. Whatever. He was handling this, he knew how to get himself out of this… right? He was trying at least. All these conversations did was remind him of how much he was failing, making him feel even worse about himself, which led him to drown it in drink even further. He knew it wasn’t Marnie's intent, she was just trying to show she cared. But he couldn’t handle it, not like this. 

“You know everything I say is out of love…” Marnie whispered, “I don't want to make you feel guilty, I just want you to do better. I want you to be happy,”

Shane grabbed his door handle tight, staring blankly ahead as he pulled away from her, “Goodnight,” was all he managed to whisper, closing the door behind him. 

Turning on the light in the corner, he felt his heart sink. The room Marnie had so nicely set up for him was now a disaster. Dirty clothes and dishes covered the surfaces, an unpleasant smell starting to form in the air from their presence. Trash littered the floor as well, the crunching of paper and plastic beneath his feet. The hardwood floors were hardly even visible under the mess anymore. Everyday he promised himself he’d fix it, that he’d get it under control. He’d always start, evident by the half filled trash bags in the corner and overflowing hamper at the side. But without fail, he’d get so incredibly overwhelmed every single time that he couldn’t continue. Just looking at it now made him feel so defeated, so ashamed. He had no idea how it kept getting like this. It made him so embarrassed, especially when Marnie and Jas would take a peek inside and see just how bad it was. He wanted to be better than this.

Slinking off his work hoodie and polo, he let them fall to the floor, adding onto the ever-growing pile of laundry that he needed to work on. He kicked his shoes across the floor, hearing them hit the wall with a quiet ‘thump’. Sinking into bed after today felt like heaven, even with how lumpy and uneven the mattress was. His arms felt ready to pop from their sockets, eight hours straight of lugging heavy boxes and overdrinking had completely wiped him out. His bad knee throbbed in pain, a constant reminder of what he’d lost. Staring up at the ceiling, the one spot in this room not affected by the throes of his depressive state, he just thought. For some reason, his drinking tonight couldn’t get his mind to quiet down as much as it usually did. Maybe he was building a higher tolerance, growing used to the amount of drink he forced into his system every night. 

He thought about Jas and Marnie, how much he had to be letting them down with his behavior. No one in this house was happy and he found himself consistently being the common denominator of that problem. His aunt and goddaughter deserved better than the fuck-up he was. What Marnie said rang in his head. The thought of Jas waiting for him, crying to herself, it made him so angry. He just wanted to throttle himself, scream in his own face and ask what the hell he was doing. He thought about how disconnected he was from Emily now. She was living her own life, a happy one that didn’t need him or his baggage in it, and it killed him inside. It was his own fault, both the crumbling of their past relationship and their friendship. He wasn’t the best boyfriend back in the day, not yet mature enough to handle a relationship. And now, his lack of communication was putting their friendship in jeopardy. Shane felt like he ruined everything he touched.

And surprisingly, his thoughts kept going back to Sam and his little group of friends. There was something about the three of them that made him feel so jealous, their joy being something he envied for himself. But, they also brought some odd sense of comfort. Something about them, something about being around them reminded him of his college days with Jason and Amelia. He couldn’t exactly place it yet, or understand why he felt such a connection, especially with Sam. Sam was a particularly frustrating person in his eyes. He was tolerable of him at work, but never really went out of his way to talk to him. The kid was just so… different from him. Shane was always the pessimist these days, a miserable, lonely man that had a hard time finding joy in anything anymore. Sam couldn’t be any more different. But even still, for whatever reason, he felt some kind of connection to him. As if they perhaps were more kindred than he initially knew. What a silly thought.

As he lay there, ruminating over the pit he found himself in once again, he cried. With each passing day he felt more and more like a failure. He didn't want to be like this. No one wanted to be like this. Why couldn't he just move on? Why couldn't he pick up the pieces and get his life together? Marnie was able to do it, why couldn't he? He compared himself to her all the time, constantly seeing himself falling short where she succeeded. Watching how easily she handled their family's problems made him feel like the weakest link in the chain, an absolute embarrassment to their family name. The thoughts tortured his mind as he lay there, thoughts buzzing around and forcing him awake. Eventually the pure exhaustion he felt dragged him into a deep sleep, one that was bleak and dreamless. Restless too, he would find. 

He woke up feeling somehow much more exhausted than usual, the hangover absolutely brutal. He felt ready to vomit, his head pounding with pain as if it would explode. Oh well. It was Saturday. He could sleep in, try to sleep off the feeling. He was just about to close his eyes again, drift back off to sleep, when he heard a familiar tip-tap on his window. 

It was raining. Fuck. 

Morris for some reason insisted he come in on rainy weekends, and he dreaded them terribly. He didn’t mind the overtime pay, but actually working the hours was brutal for him. With an annoyed grumble he slid out of bed, searching around for a clean-ish uniform among the piles of laundry on the floor. Getting dressed as quick as he could, he ran out the door, hoping to get to work before it was too late. 

The rain chilled him to the bone, even with a hoodie on to protect him from the weather. With how cold the air had grown, he felt like an icicle by the time he reached the store, comforted by the comparably warm air inside. He checked the time, seeing he had just barely made it before his shift. Morris was sure to still find some issues in that. He was always upset over something.

The ache in Shane’s shoulders grew steadily as his shift went on. It wasn’t like he’d never done a stocking job before, he had plenty of experience there, but being the only stocker on staff made it a challenge. Working for Joja was a challenge in general. After a few months on the job he soon came to find that the cheery disposition Morris held was indeed covering up the cold corporate bastard he really was. He expected Shane and everyone else in this store to work like damn robots, keeping up at paces that seemed impossible. He was getting the hang of it though, slowly but surely. 

He was finishing up stocking the very last palette of some grotesque crime against food and humanity as a whole, white mushroom soda, listening to the commotion behind him. Sam was entering the same aisle, mopping the floor… rather, he was supposed to be mopping the floor. The man was practically dancing across the aisle, using his mop like it was some microphone or prop as he silently mouthed along to whatever was playing in those giant headphones of his, very obviously not noticing Shane was in the same aisle and watching. Shane could only hear bits and pieces of what was playing through those bulky headphones, but it sounded good. Very good, actually. 

“What are you listening to?” he finally asked, raising his voice to ensure Sam could hear. Sam stopped in his tracks, pulling his headphones away from one ear. He looked mildly surprised, curious that Shane was the one to actually start a conversation with him. Typically it would be Sam trying to get Shane to speak, an effort that could be as hard as pulling teeth with how standoffish the man was. 

“What’d you say?”

“I asked what you were listening to,” Shane repeated in a flat tone, “I could hear it from over here,”

A pink tint appeared on Sam’s face, embarrassment setting in. He could be self conscious about his music, and the thought that it was that audible, and that he had an audience… oh it made him feel so nervous. Sam pulled his walkman from his pocket, fumbling with the volume dial to turn it down, “I-I didn’t know you could hear that… sorry, dude…”

“Why are you sorry, it was good,” Shane admitted, shrugging nonchalantly, ‘I liked it,”

“You… you did?” Sam was shocked to say the least. He wasn’t sure that Shane enjoyed much of anything in the first place, but he liked his music? 

“Yeah, it’s pretty good. Listened to a lot of stuff like that in college, heh…” Shane mused. He put the last can on the shelf, lifting himself off the ground with a grunt. He tried to look at the label on the cassette sitting in the walkman, “What band is it?”

“Mine, actually.. Well, my friends and I’s band,” Sam admitted. 

“No kidding?” Shane raised a brow, “What do you play?”

“Bass, I do the singing too,” Sam reluctantly pulled the cassette from the player, holding it out to Shane, “Do you.. Want to listen to it? I have a bunch more back home,”

Shane stared at the cassette, looking at the little sharpie label on the front, “Goblin Destroyer, huh?”

“It’s silly, isn’t it?” Sam asked, looking embarrassed once again. Shane shrugged, taking the cassette in his hands, “Nah. Sounds badass, actually,”

“You mean it?”

“I don’t have a reason to lie to you,” Shane scoffed. He slipped the tape in his pocket, “I’ll listen to it tonight, thanks,”

Sam gripped the handle of the mop tighter, still feeling his chest squeeze tight. He didn’t know why he could get this self-conscious about it. Music, playing in the band, it made him feel alive. Why did being open about it make him so embarrassed? Maybe in this case it was just that it was Shane. He seemed to be the standoffish, judgemental type, and Sam certainly didn’t take him as someone who’d enjoy that kind of music. But maybe this was a good thing, a step in the right direction finally. He finally  found something the two had in common! 

“Boys!” Morris’ snippy voice rang out through the empty aisle. He stood at the other end, hands on his hips as he looked to them in annoyance, “It’s 5. You can get going now,”

“Oh thank fuck” Shane thought to himself.

He and Sam hurriedly got their things together to leave, the pair anxious to get out of the bleak store and get on with their day. Shane was pleasantly surprised to find the rain had let up, the sky showing off its sunset hues. Sam found a sense of joy in it too, smiling upwards towards the sky as the two of them made their way on the path towards home. 

“Isn’t it awesome?” Sam mused.

“What?” 

“All of this,” Sam motioned towards the skyline, the sunset creeping over the mountaintops, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Hard to stay sad when there’s so many little things to be grateful for,”

Shane squinted at the sky, rolling his eyes just a bit, “It’s… a sunset. It happens everyday, Sam,”

“Yeah, but each one is unique! It’s all in the little things, man,” Sam smiled, “There’s beauty everywhere! Like the little flowers on the cliff there, the reeds in the river… You just gotta know where to look for it,”

“That’s… deep,” Shane raised his brows in mild surprise, “Didn’t know you were so introspective,”

“You never asked!”

As they passed over the bridge the pair went their separate ways, Sam waving goodbye as he ran off towards his home. Shane took a sharp left, approaching the Stardrop Saloon for the seventh time that week. He took a step up the creaking staircase, putting a hand on the doorknob. Something stopped him from twisting it open though. It was like his body was locked, preventing him from taking another step forward. His mind raced, a prominent frustrated expression on his face. 

“You promised aendi you’d be home earlier…” he thought to himself, “Have some fucking self control, get yourself together,”

His aunt's words from the night before came to mind, the images of Jas waiting for him at the front door burned into the front of his mind. He could just imagine her little face looking so, so sad, hearing her soft crying echo in his mind. The guilt made him feel unable to breathe. He needed to do better. He needed to be a better guardian, a better role model. Pushing responsibility to Marnie wasn’t fair for anyone in their house, and he knew it well. Begrudgingly, he removed his hand from the saloon’s door, turning to walk back home. 

Jas once again stood in the foyer, her little purple eyes trained on the door. She’d been like this every night this week, intent on waiting for Shane to come home right after work. Marnie was setting the table for dinner, taking a nervous look at the clock. It was already 6:00. She feared Jas would once again be getting her hopes up for nothing, just like every other night this week. She felt so much pity, so much anger. Seeing her get her hopes up like this, watching her reluctantly leave her spot as the night grew on, seeing how quiet she got when she realized Shane wasn’t coming home yet… It killed her. 

On one hand, Marnie was glad that Shane was finally relying on her for help. On the other, he was starting to rely far too much on her. It was noticeable to everyone in the house, and she was growing weary of it. It also made Marnie realize that she didn’t know how to help him. She thought she did, she thought her experience in raising him would help when it came to giving him advice on how to navigate his situation. But it didn’t. Every attempt she made fell flat at best, drove him away at worst. She thought about staging some sort of intervention, maybe getting the new town doctor to sit down with him and discuss treatment plans, but she couldn’t force him. She knew she couldn’t. But she also couldn’t stand seeing her grand-niece look so dejected night after night. Marnie prayed that Shane kept his promise, that he would walk through that door any minute. 

Almost as if on cue, the front door swung open, Jas’ excited shrieks ringing out as she ran to her godfather, “You’re home!” she squealed, jumping into his arms, “I missed you!”

“Missed you too, chickadee,” Shane smiled, hugging her tight, “You have a good day?”

“Yeah! Me n’ Vincent played in the rain and I caught bugs!” Jas giggled, “I got one in a little cage, aendi said she’s a roly-poly!”

The girl broke out into a ramble about bug facts she read about in the books Penny gave her for classes, telling Shane all about the crazy things she learned about them. Jas was like a sponge for knowledge, taking every little fun fact and quip she learned and storing it away in her little mind. She genuinely loved learning, but she loved sharing that knowledge even more. Shane listened intently as she rambled, a tiny smile on his face. He looked up towards the kitchen as she talked, seeing Marnie stand there with a soft look on her face. She looked relieved, proud even. It seemed he had taken their conversation to heart. Deep down both of them knew that this wouldn’t be permanent, that he would slip up again at some point, but for now, they chose to bask in this moment. It was a good one, and they didn’t want anything coming in it’s way. 

The night went on with little issue. Shane, with his mind clear, was able to participate much more in family activities. He talked more at dinner, played all the little games Jas requested, helped Marnie with cleanup. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. It was a good day, and as fleeting as this would be, he was glad for it. 

Soon enough it was time for bed, and Jas was incredibly excited. She waited patiently, dressed up in her favorite pajamas with a storybook in hand. Shane was busy brushing her hair back, helping her slip on her little yellow bonnet, tying it in a bow in the back. 

“Can you read the book now?” she asked, a slight impatience in her voice. She’d been waiting for a story all week, and she was incredibly excited for it. Jas refused to let even Marnie read to her, insisting that she wanted it to be Shane the entire week. Shane took the little book from her hands, finding it to be one about all kinds of fables and fairy stories. Penny had lent it to her after seeing her gain such an interest in those sorts of tales. He sat next to her bed, letting her get comfy under the covers before he began to read. Little stories about forest fairies and Junimos, little creatures who took care of nature and the world around them filled the book. Jas listened on in wonder to the fables, imagining herself running into one of these creatures herself someday, making friends with them just like the characters in the book did. Shane had a great storytelling voice that kept her invested in each and every fable, making each word feel real and true. 

“Uncle Shane?”

“Yeah, Jassy?”

“Are those stories real?”

Shane closed the book, setting it on the nightstand and giving her a smile, “Well, what do you think?”

Jas thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah! I think so!”

“Then there you go,” Shane mused, reaching up to pull the drawstring on her lamp, “Time to sleep though, it’s a school night,”

“Okay… goodnight!” Jas yawned, resting her head back on her pillow. She watched as Shane got up and walked towards the door before she shot up again, “Uncle Shane!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Thank you for comin’ home early,” Jas smiled, “I like it when you read stories, you do funny voices,” 

“You’re welcome, kiddo,”

“Can you come home early tomorrow? Please?”

“... I’ll try,” Shane muttered, “G’night, Jassy,”

Shane made his way to his room, avoiding turning on his light so he wouldn’t see the mess yet again. He was far too tired today to have that on his mind again, or to get out of his work clothes. He unceremoniously flopped down onto his bed, wincing as he felt something sharp dig into his leg. Reaching into his pocket he found the cassette Sam had gifted him, remembering he promised to give it a listen. He lazily reached over to his nightstand, fumbling his hand around to search for his own old walkman. Slipping in the tape and sliding on a janky pair of headphones, he turned on the old player. The same tunes Sam had been dancing to earlier today began to blast in his ears.

 It was just as good as Shane had thought before, if not even better. Damn, this kid was talented. His friends too. He could hear a genuine passion for the craft in the vocals and instruments, able to tell that the three of them were having the time of their lives recording these tracks. He couldn’t understand why Sam was so self conscious about him hearing it earlier. Shane eventually let himself be pulled into sleep, leaving the headphones on and letting the tape play through the night. Tonight, he found he slept just a bit better as he listened on. 

-----------------

The morning was quiet as Sundays always were. Shane and Jas had left to go spend the day outdoors, Marnie sitting at the front counter of the shop. It had been dreadfully slow today, and she found herself feeling bored to near death. Suddenly, the door to the ranch swung open, making her jump just a bit in surprise. A very happy looking Sam walked into the foyer, stepping up to the counter and resting his elbows on the edge, “Mornin’ ma’am!”

“Same to you!” Marnie mused, “Ms. Yoder is just fine though, ma’am is a bit… formal,”

“Sorry ma’- Ms. Yoder,” Sam corrected himself, getting a content smile from Marnie, “Oh that’s alright… Anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah, we need more eggs,” Sam shrugged sheepishly, “I kinda dropped a few while we were making breakfast and we’re almost out,”

“Let me go get some for you, I’ll be right back!” 

Sam waited patiently at the counter while Marnie entered her coop, drumming his fingertips on the ledge. He took a look around the foyer, scanning over all the little decorations and photos hanging on its walls. Cute little pieces of art, signs with words in a language he didn’t understand, and a barrage of family photos from the past few decades, chronicling the life of his coworker and his family. His eyes landed on a more recent photo, one that caught his interest. Shane stood in the middle, wearing a band tee and varsity jacket. His hair was long and styled in a mullet, not much unlike Sams. He looked happy, his face not yet scarred from the throes of age and stress. Two people stood at his side, smiling alongside him as they posed for the camera. The one on the left looked a lot like Jas, and the one on the right looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing on the planet. They looked so happy, so full of life. He thought the pair standing with Shane must be Jas’ parents, and wondered where they were now, wondered what happened that made Shane look the way he did today.

Marnie entered the house again, holding a small basket full of eggs, “Here you go! Your mother can return this at aerobics this week,” she turned her focus to where Sam was looking, smiling when she saw the photo. She’d taken that many years ago on their first day of sophomore year in college, a day she remembered well, “They look so happy, don’t they?”

“Yeah!” Sam agreed, “Who are those two?”

“Jas’ parents! They were good friends with my boy years back,”

“Huh…” Sam furrowed his brow, “I thought Shane was Jas’ uncle, isn’t he?”

Marnie shook her head, pulling the frame from the wall to give Sam a closer look, “Oh no, Shane doesn’t have any siblings… It’s more of an honorary thing, Jas is his goddaughter,” she explained. Her face softened into a melancholic look, “These two were just friends, very close ones. The sweetest things too, rest their souls,”

“Are they-?”

“They’ve passed, yes,” Marnie sighed, “I’m not sure how much he’s comfortable with me telling you, but… Jas was just a baby when it happened, Shane adopted her to honor their wishes. It’s been hard for all of us, but I am proud of him. Takes a lot of strength to step into that role when you’re young,”

“Yeah.. it does,” Sam felt something shift in his mind. So much about Shane suddenly made much more sense to him. The attitude, the anger, the frustration, all emotions that Sam knew all too well. Shane just didn’t mask it as well as Sam did, coped in much different ways. Was that why he was at the saloon so much? He knew that must be such a weight to carry, stepping into a fatherly role for a child you shouldn’t have to be parenting, for one reason or another. He used to feel sympathy for the man, but now there was a sense of empathy in its place.

He reminisced to one of the times his father had left for deployment years ago. He was sixteen, Vincent merely a baby. It was such an emotional day, tensions high and a quiet anger in the house. Sam didn’t understand why Kent had to go again, why he was leaving them yet again after so many promises that he wouldn’t. That day, his father made him promise to take care of his mother and brother if anything were to happen to him. Those words were burned into his head, even when he was well into adulthood. The thought of something happening to his father, this act of being “man of the house” becoming a permanent title, the thought made him sick.This entire experience felt so isolating, especially now that Kent was deployed again, no return date in sight. He loved his friends, but he knew they couldn’t understand that kind of pressure. They could sympathize, sure, but he never had someone he knew who could truly empathize with this. Not until now.

“Are you okay?” Marnie questioned, trying to get Sam's attention, “I think I lost you there…”

“Oh! Don’t worry, I’m okay Ms. Yoder,” Sam assured, giving her a shrug. He took the basket from her hands, fumbling for some cash in his pocket, “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh put your money away, this one is on the house,”

“... You sure?” 

Marnie nodded, giving him a smile, “Just make sure I get that basket back and we have nothing to worry about. Tell your mother hello for me, won’t you?”

“I will, promise!” 

With that Sam waved goodbye, heading back home with the basket in hand. He couldn’t get that picture out of his head the entire time he walked back. Shane had been such a mystery to him the past few months. Seeing how he acted compared to his much more cheerful family was confusing to say the least, but now, he thought he finally understood. As gruff and standoffish as that man was, Sam could finally see another side of him, one that was kind, happy even. Maybe he could try a bit harder to be his friend, then maybe he could see that side of him in person. 

---------------

That next Monday at work, Shane kept catching Sam giving him odd looks through his shift, ones that unnerved him. Sam usually looked fairly content, finding enjoyment in his work, trying to drag Shane into conversations. But today, there was a weird sort of heaviness in the air. He looked almost sad, staying quiet much of the day, and that’s not the Sam he knew. When they went on their lunch break, the silence was almost deafening. It made him so uncomfortable, so weirded out. Shane finally broke, desperate to know what was wrong.

“The hell’s your problem, Samson?”

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been looking at me like someone just died. What’s up with you today?”

Sam pulled off his headphones, setting them on the breakroom table with a soft *clack*, “Just thinkin, I guess,”

“Bullshit. What’s wrong?” Shane demanded, “You’re weirdin’ me out,”

“I went to your aunt's shop for eggs yesterday. I saw this photo on the wall and-”

Shane cut him off with a loud, frustrated groan. He knew exactly where Sam was going with this. It wasn’t the first time Marnie had been so open about this situation, and sure wouldn’t be the last. He clasped a hand to his face, dragging it down dramatically, “Shit… I hate when she just tells people about that, I-” he exhaled deeply, shaking his head, “Sorry, I don’t know why she did that… The entire town doesn’t need to know my sob story,”

“I-I just wanted to say I-”

“Stop,” Shane grumbled, holding up a hand, “I don’t want to hear about how sorry you are for my loss. I’ve heard it so many damn times that it doesn’t mean anythin’ to me anymore,”

“It’s not that!” Sam assured, “I wanted to say that I get it. That’s gotta be rough,”

“You get it?” Shane repeated, raising a brow in skeptical curiosity, “What do you mean you ‘get it’?”

Here went nothing. Sam folded his hands, looking down at the blank table before him, “My dad, he’s in the service. Been in and out as long as I can remember. It’s always been hard, especially for mom. And when Vince was born it got harder,” he shrugged nervously as he continued on, “I’ve basically had to step up and fill that role for my brother while he’s gone… I don’t want to be his dad, though. I shouldn’t have to be. I’m his brother… I know it’s not the same, but I think I get what you’re feeling… It’s unfair, it’s frustrating, and-”

“Makes you feel like you’re alone? Like no one understands you?” Shane cut in, giving Sam a much more empathetic expression. Sam nodded silently, still looking down. 

The part of Shane that felt jealousy and aggravation towards Sam melted away in almost an instant. He could’ve never known that someone like Sam was hiding that under all the sunshine. Sam was so well adjusted, in a much better spot than he was, and he was even younger than Shane when that responsibility was thrust upon him. It made his heart hurt for him, it made him want to help him, even though he didn’t know how. Shane didn’t even know how to help himself, for crying out loud.

“How do you do it?”

"Huh?"

"How do you stay so...." Shane motioned in the air, "How are you always so damn happy, then? You deal with all that and you just… how aren't you miserable all the time?”

“I’m not always happy,” Sam admitted, “Sometimes you gotta put on a brave face, act happy when you’re not. I don’t want Vince to know the truth of how scary this all is. He shouldn’t have to think about war, or the possibility that dad isn’t coming home….”

“But it’s hard to be the one who has to keep it together all the time, huh?” Shane asked, his tone surprisingly understanding and soft. That signature bitterness was nowhere to be found. 

“Yeah…” Sam agreed, “I pretend everything is okay, I act like someone I’m not. It sucks. I just want to be myself,”

“That’s no way to cope, kid… I know I’m in no spot to criticize, or give advice, but-” Shane took a pause, trying to think about his next words carefully, “Maybe talk to people. Your friends, your mom. Don’t put yourself through this alone, don’t try to prove to people that you can keep it together. I tried that, look where it got me,” he motioned to himself, grimacing at the sight.

Sam shrugged, “I don’t know if I can… People already think I’m super immature… even stupid. I don’t want to make them think I can’t handle myself,”

“Speakin’ from experience, you need to. Don’t make the same mistakes I did,” Shane chuckled bitterly, clenching a hand tight, “You don’t wanna end up this way, some miserable loser that just sucks the life out of everything he touches.”

He looked back to Sam, but for just a moment, didn't see his coworker sitting there. In his place sat that terrified 25 year old from all those years ago. He looked so clueless and afraid of what the future held for him. There was an naivety in his eyes, the pit he would fall into not yet in front of him. He saw himself, and Yoba he did not want Sam to end up like he did.

Part of him felt guilty for assuming Sam had some perfect life. Shane knew well about the war going on with the Gotoro Empire, how brutal things were. Every day you could open the news to see some kind of new tragedy, one that just shattered your soul. He couldn't imagine having a loved one participating in it, what that must feel like. It must be terrifying. But even still, even through all of it, Sam kept that happy face. He took care of Vincent, even when he shouldn't have to. And somehow, he was still a kind person, void of that bitterness and rage that Shane let consume him whole. Sam coped with kindness and positivity, Shane coped with vices. Sam was a source of light to everyone in his life, and Shane was a deep, dark pit that dragged people down. They were two sides of the same coin, men in similar situations that couldn’t handle it any differently from the other. Though it was something Shane never believed he would think in his entire life, he wished he could be more like Sam.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re stupid,” Shane admitted, “Immature?... Maybe. But you’re young, you’re allowed to be immature,”

“And I don’t think you’re a loser,” Sam gave him a weak smile, “I think you’re just hurting, you need a friend,”

“Maybe I have one now,” Shane mused. Sam gave him a look of surprise, not expecting that in the slightest. He wanted Shane to be a friend, sure, but with how things had been going, he never thought it would come to be. He smiled, sitting up straight for the first time that night. Talking about all this, especially with someone who had even a shred of understanding of this situation, it made it feel like some weight was off his shoulders. He still felt like he was bearing the world on his back, and he doubted that feeling would go away until his father was home for good. But he felt just a bit lighter, and for that he was grateful. 

Shane had thought that he was some ill-fitting, unneeded piece of the puzzle that made up Pelican town. It was a lonely feeling, one that consumed his mind, made his bitterness grow like a strangling vine in his soul. But maybe he wasn’t as ill-fitting as he thought. Maybe he just hadn’t found his place yet. He certainly wouldn’t today, or tomorrow, or even anytime soon. But having another person, someone outside of family, who understood him made him feel like it was possible. That feeling of dread and fear hadn’t yet gone away. He doubted it every would, honestly. But at least he wasn’t alone in it.

Maybe he could take a page from Sam’s book, though. Maybe he just needed to look at things from a different perspective, try more to see the better things in life. He looked up towards the window in the breakroom, watching as the sunset colors began to roll in over the mountain tops, signaling the end of the day. The flowers along the cliff overlooking town swayed in the wind, the sound of the river carrying over to where he sat.

It was beautiful.

[missinconsistent]

You can tell people who don't watch Niji are really scrambling to find anything to hate about the AR Live because they just don't want any of the livers to celebrate any accomplishments. But if anyone is actually taking the opinions of those who didn't even watch the damn event at face value, here is my take on some of the "issues" these people are complaining about:

Long read.

THE GRADUATED LIVERS:

Pomu's, Nina's, and Mysta's voice were kept because it was a decision by the livers to be included for the fans. The remaining livers re-recorded their live stages after the others graduated, but some people actually think Niji was just showing 1-year-old footage, which would take some insane editing skills. The graduated livers' voices were part of the back track, not as part of the live singing. Their vocals were only heard for debut songs, too. There is also a weird narrative that the voices of the graduated livers should not have been allowed when there is no problem with it. Those graduated livers still support their friends and were more than happy to be included in AR Live even after graduating.

SELEN AND PASTEL STAGE:

It makes sense why Selen had to be cut from AR Live. There would be a lot more heat if they kept her in after her termination than to just roll with it since, unlike the graduated livers, Selen was terminated not long after already recording AR Live back in November last year.

I get it's upsetting many things had to be cut from Pastel Stage, but it's not just getting all the livers to Japan, but also booking the venue, getting the 3D riggers, stage staff, choreographers, and more. They'd have to push the AR Live concert even further after canceling the initial one. It honestly makes sense that they'd cut content rather than spend the resources to re-record it for a THIRD time. And since everyone wants the Niji to take better care of their livers' mental health, then not overworking them on this overdue project is a start.

3D MODELS AND RIGGING:

Apparently, someone paid the money to hate-watch AR Live so they could spread screenshots to make it look bad, despite the strict copyright rule not to share screenshots (which of course would lead to a DMCA). Frankly, if anyone is going to judge the quality of the whole 3-hour concert based on snippets and not actually bother to watch it, then they can't make the conclusion that the 3D models were bad. Although it's weird that someone did pay to sit through a 3-hour concert without having any intention of enjoying it to begin with.

I watched the concert, and the 3D models looked good, in my opinion. Nijisanji is known to have better 3D rigging compared to their competitors. The team that did the models and rigging did a perfectly fine job and it's pretty insulting to put it down because you chose to look at it under a microscope and pinpoint any instance where it might have looked off. A lot of the choreography (especially Shu's Shanti 🪑) and the variety games show how good the rigging can look, and it seems unfair to not look at those examples alongside the bad ones.

CONCLUSION

I feel like the Niji hate at this point is getting ridiculous. There's plenty of real reasons to not like Niji. If you want to "SiNk tHe yAtCht" so bad, you can boycott it and not spend money to hate-watch their concert, lol. Drama channels finding anything to talk about AR Live when they haven't even watched it is just another example of how little integrity they have to report hearsay. And it's tiring to always hear people looking at any possible negative thing to say when the livers and their fans are just being happy..?

Don't get me wrong, I have my criticisms of the company. I've aired it out before. Especially after Selen's termination. Hell, it's not like I don't have my own critique of AR Live. I also wish fans got more Pastel Stage. I also wish the first AR Live wasn't canceled. But by no means do I think the AR Live we got was bad.

I left the concert feeling elated and overall had way more positive thoughts about it than any negative ones. And it has me looking forward to future AR Live concerts. Other 3D debuts. And other projects like NijiEncounter.

Anyways, Niji antis can and will keep obsessively bitching about Niji, and then say "cope and seethe" when someone tells them to take a chill pill. But Niji AR Live did really well. The fans are proud of the livers' hard work to make it happen. There will be more positive things to come for Niji enjoyers. But if antis want to keep writing their own fan fiction that tells them otherwise, there's no point in changing their mind, lol.

For fans that want to keep supporting their livers, or any sane person that wants to see Niji better themselves, please don't let the hate keep you from celebrating any wins, big or small, that the livers are accomplishing.

[hevs-dreamworld]

Masterpost:

So, I noticed that since I have joined @sonic-au-collision, I should probably go ahead and get a masterpost started.

Hello there!

My name is hevexn, or as my mutuals call me on my main, realm! I am the creator of siren’s call! AU, and this is where a lot of the art/story will end up! (Outside my main @hevexns-realm)

This is mainly for my own enjoyment, so don’t expect the storyline to be in order. (I will try, but no promises-)

Storyline:

The story follows team nostalgia going to a fancy casino/hotel for the annual villains’ meetup. The MMJ casino, home of the biggest criminals in all of solleanna. Also the home of Mary Jane the cat, an old friend of mephiles’.

After a while of catching up and drinking a little. Team nostalgia ends up going outside to get some fresh air, only to see rouge and Amy coming in. After a little bit of talking, a female hedgehog walks up to Amy and rouge and hugs them. She then turns around and introduces herself. Her name is Iris, the star of the casino, and the most popular performer there. After chatting it up, Iris heads off to get ready for the show, while team nostalgia head back to the private room where the meeting was being held.

Months go by, and the trio starts hanging around with Iris before and after her shows, and things seem to be going well between them all. That is until a news report pops up saying that Iris’ apartment had been destroyed in a fire after siren-hunters found her home location. While hedgesirens weren’t allowed to be legally hunted, was it going to stop them? No. Siren hunters are ruthless, and won’t stop until their prey is found and destroyed.

So, Nazo takes a risk by asking her if she wants to stay with him and seelkadoom until she can get back up on her feet. After all, they’ve known her for a while, and it’s not like she’s dangerous to herself or others. Besides, friends help each other in times of need, why should this be any different?

Iris hesitantly agrees and heads back home with nazo and seelkadoom to their place, and then they find out that it’s not just the fact that Iris is not all that she gives off.

And then shenanigans ensue from there, there’s (mostly) wholesome and funny shenanigans with team nostalgia, with lots of LGBTQ+ / polyamorous themes surrounding this newfound quartet of friends who have fun little moments together!

Any trigger warnings?

Y e p. There will be mentions, themes, and more of:

- blood (possible gore)

- arranged marriages

- physical and mental abuse (from Iris’ family.)

- slight suggestiveness (I’ll probably save this stuff for my main-)

- alcohol (all characters who drink are over 21, but it’s best to mention it!)

- physical and mental health issues (PCOS, POTS, depression and anxiety, etc. please do your research, for these will be based off my experiences, and it’s always good to educate oneself about some things!)

- just a much more.. mature Sonic AU in general. Although it hopefully won’t be an absolute cringefest and get made fun of! ^^||

Asks?:

I’m more than open for y’all to ask about the AU! I prefer for you to ask on this blog specifically, but you are allowed to ask on my main too! Just don’t make them too NSFW on here! (Same goes for art too!)

Post schedule?

I probably won’t have a schedule for a while, and I upload whichever pieces I want to. So I’m sorry if it’s all over the place, I’ll try to organize it! 🖤

I think that’s it. I’ll be @-ting a few of my mutals so they see this! ^^

Either way, I hope you enjoy this! 🤍🤍

@hunniegl4zed @thebreadmeower

[anaalnathrakhs]

oh god ed reddit is having the “uwu anorexia isn’t rooted in fatphobia my mental illness is not abt you” talk again please god help me

fatphobia doesn’t mean “being a meanie to fat ppl” i’m begging you to use critical thinking skills for five seconds and apply what you know about literally any other form of oppression to this situation.

people’s point isn’t that you having anorexia makes them feel bad and therefore you’re a bad fatphobic person.

they’re pointing out how the deeply ingrained fatphobia our society upholds, from misconceptions about health to moralization of looks and weight, including yes being jerks to fat ppl’s faces bc they’re fat, is affecting what you think about your own looks, weight, health, body, clothes, eating habits, etc.

the logic isn’t “you became anorexic because you hate fat people so much you never wanted to be fat yourself (and that makes you a bad person)” it’s “fatphobia is a prism that transforms the root cause of your ed into disordered thoughts, behaviors, and patterns (and unlearning fatphobia will help you with recovery and harm-reduction)”

like. it’s not for no reason that anorexia is a disorder that disproportionatedly affects women. it’s not for no reason that there’s sky high comorbidity rates for eds and ocd. it’s not for no reason that people who need control in their lives so badly that they develop a mental disorder abt it get obssessed with being skinny and not with being a sumo. it’s not for no reason that ppl who feel the need to retract to childhood due to trauma envy things like being skinny light and frail, instead of being a tubby baby. it’s not for no reason that there is an incredibly common anorexic thought pattern (internal and self-directed, don’t make me say what i didn’t say) that associaties restriction and weight loss with moral goodness.

for each of these there IS a number of exceptions, but you can see case by case how the root cause (trauma, need for control, for self-destruction, growing up poor, whatever you think is “unrelated to fatphobia” basically) is processed through the prism of the fatphobic culture we’ve all been raised in. some people just, voluntarily or not, deal with those root causes in different way, which might or might not be healthy. but it’s a consequence of ambiant fatphobia that “i should starve and be skinny about it” is a statistically pretty common response to this distress.

the point isn’t “it’s fatphobic that you don’t deal with your neuroses in a body positive way uwu” the point is that no matter how cool you are with fat people on like, a personal level, you’ve been (like the rest of us) bombarded with fatphobic thought patterns your entire life basically, both directly fatphobic things and reactions to this fatphobia. maybe spoken to you directly, maybe not. maybe about you maybe about other people. you live in a society that places moral values into looks and health, and also pushes some deeply rooted falsehoods about how those things tie into each other. you have a disorder defined by obsessive behaviors. maybe, just maybe, deconstructing the logic that those obsessives behaviors are based upon will help you deal with this disorder. and recover or reduce harm.

basically, anorexia isn’t “getting skinny disorder” it’s “obsession disorder”, obsession with looking attractive, or pleasing your family, or going back to being a kid, or being healthy, or being fit, or being driven and capable, or being worth saving, or having your suffering known, or having control over something, or whatever. the fatphobia that is omnipresent (and i repeat, omnipresent, nobody is singling you out as a bad fatphobic meanie, or even talking about your behavior towards other people around you) in our society picks the direction in which many many people will express that disorder.

of course if you live in a society that tells you “being fat is morally bad” at every turn, when you start developping an obssessive pathological need to control things, without another factor weighting in, most people’s default reaction will be anorexia. food is a regular fixture of everybody’s life, everyone wants to be morally good, and even if we know/understand/believe to an extent the flaws of that “fat = bad” logic we know the world around us still believes it, and nobody wants to be treated like shit. we can think it’s stupid and fight against fatphobia and work to treat fat ppl better in our lives and support body positivity, but in any case, one always judges oneself on different metrics than they judge others, cuz we control our self-improvement. that’s natural. just it doesn’t mesh well with a pathologically obssessive need for control above self-preservation.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

A stardew valley headcanon:

One year the farmer gave Vincent a Pink Cake for his birthday and Vincent will NOT shut up about it. Jodi has slowly been going crazy trying to recreate it and has been begging for the recipe, but the farmer keeps turning her away.

Meanwhile, the farmer is trying to decide if they should confess to feeding Vincent some goodness knows how old cake they carved out of a purple giant slime in Skull Cavern.

God, I did the same! With the burglar ring, I got two pink cakes at once: I gave one to Vincent, the second to Marnie. Like, go on, eat, I got it from an incomprehensible slime monster, but the cake itself seems to be fine, just remove the slime and you'll be ok.

I have a silly idea for this HC, I hope you like it))) Also, I mostly make a neutral farmer so you can imagine your own OC Farmer. Enjoy!

Who could have known the pink cake that the Farmer found in their misadventures in the Skull Cavern inside a huge fucking slime, and thoughtlessly presented to Vincent for his birthday, would burn so many nerve cells? And not only the nerve cells of poor Jodi, who has been asking for a recipe for this damned cake for several days now, but also the Farmer's nerve cells.

Well, the Farmer must have known, because what were they even thinking? Find random food inside a monster and give it to a child?! Are they brainless?!

The Farmer put himself in Jodi's shoes and trying to imagine what if they tell her how they got that pink cake. Heh, they would tell their child not to talk with this creep anymore, and avoid them at all costs, that's what any normal parent would do. So this option is out.

The Farmer didn't want to torture Jodi by hiding the recipe. Yoba witnesses, the Farmer even tried to repeat the recipe for this cake themselves in order to find exactly the one that Vincent liked so much. Of course, nothing came of this, and if the selection method did not work, they must think differently.

"Okay, think, think, cake, slime, Skull cavern, slime, iridium, level 100, challenge, casino, slime, Mr. Qi... Mr. Qi!!! Eureka!!"

The Farmer ran faster than a bullet into the Calico desert, and before they could even say hello to Sandy, they almost kicked the casino door. The bouncer was about to calm down a highly aroused visitor, but the owner of the casino, Mr. Qi himself, stopped him, and approached his... friend? Can their acquaintance and all these trials be called friendship? It's hard to say, but Qi himself was happy to see the Farmer... until he saw a tortured face with bruises under their eyes. Yoba, how long have they been awake?

The Farmer told Qi about the strange pink cake inside a slime in one breath and maniacally asked where it came from.

"Well kid, I put the cake in slime"

"You... put a cake in that giant slime?"

"Well, of course. How do you think the cake stays so fresh? Unfortunately, there are no refrigerators in caves, so this is a good solution. I left it for you, kiddo, because my challenges is difficult, the sweetness will let you not die of hunger and get a dose of sugar for overcome obstacles."

Qi did not have time to tell the Farmer proudly how he came up with this brilliant idea, as the poor Farmer grabbed Mr. Qi by the collar and tearfully begged please, please tell them the recipe for this cake, they will go further than level 100, 200 levels, even 300 in Skull cavern, just please give them the recipe they beg him, they have already gone cuckoo foR FuCK sAKe plEAsE!!!...

Given the merits of the Farmer (as well as worrying about their mental health) Mr. Qi took pity on them and gave the recipe. Although it's nothing out of the ordinary, just the same recipe as Queen sause, but add a little ginger.

Jodi, finally at peace, has prepared a fresh, special pink cake for her family that makes Vincent squeak with joy. The Farmer was finally able to sleep after all this 'sweet saga', rejoicing that they kept their friendship and found this damned recipe. And Mr. Qi has not forgotten Farmer's promise to pass his challenges more difficult than before. But for now, let the poor youth sleep.