#they probably dealt with so much bullshit and pain

[hornyfor70yroldrockstars]

Dammit I thought those creepy classic rock fans were gone. Sadly I was wrong.

[lpsgirl109]

Suddenly obsessed with the idea of FA Harry Osborn villain arc featuring Bruno looking at the Avengers and going oh my god what did you do to piss this guy off

[puppyypawsss]

It’s really fun and really cool when ur mom dismisses ur anxiety and makes u feel stupid and crazy and AAUUUHHVGBHHH.

[luludeluluramblings]

I’m the anon who sent the pregnant Reader ask! And omg Sugar Baby! Reader is such a delight. Imagine the absolute 😦😧😨 journey on Bruce’s face upon realizing this man who is closer to him in age, old enough to be his daughter’s dad not only MARRIED but had the audacity to knock her up to. I can see little menace Damian asking Husband plenty of indiscreet questions and being straight up rude. Bruce lets him, and he has plenty of questions for the husband, too. How dare he seduce Bruce’s young, impressionable and sheltered daughter, has he no shame?

And of course they offer for Reader and husband to stay at Wayne manor while she recovers. All the hotels in Gotham are suddenly booked so they have to stay over, right? Husband can go right back to work too, Reader will be fine with her family. And why don’t they look at midwives or some of the best hospitals in Gotham, consider giving birth here? Not that they all wouldn’t track the rest of her pregnancy and fly out when she gives birth, but it keeps things simpler.

The sad thing about this concept, fun as it is, it’s that the Batfam is absolutely going to ruin Reader’s relationship either by sabotaging her husband, his business, maybe plant cheating evidence for her to find like Meta! Reader’s prom date. Obviously they will all be there to help pick up the pieces and aid Reader in recovering as well as caring for the baby.

Bruce holding his grandchild and Damian as an uncle too! Wholesome despite the circumstances.

Adding to this and adding a slight NSFW warning for at the end!

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

See, I feel like the counter to this would be Husband having a begrudging Alfred in his corner. Like, Alfred isn’t happy about this guy being married to Reader. But, unfortunately, this is the healthiest relationship anyone in the family has ever been in and he doesn’t wanna ruin that for Reader.

Although, the petty passive aggressive bullshit Hubby’s gonna go through at the manor will probably escalate to the point of them sabotaging his business or making Hubby and Reader snap at the family together.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Reader’s not stupid enough to fall for planted cheating evidence. They know their husband (man’s too old to be trying that nonsense and they also take good care of him themselves.) Plus, they probably told Hubby about how neglected they were by their family. Hubby’s gonna be prepared mentally for the bullshit, even if it does eventually overwhelm him.

But, if you want angst, which I’m guessing you do. I’d say Hubby could tragically die. The family either went to far with the sabotage or an accident happened at work.

(Or, because the dude I imagined Hubby being is Philip Graves, he has to fake his death temporarily for work reasons. Oooo, hubby can grovel and show the Bat family how it’s done when he comes back.)

Either way, you have a distraught Reader. But, I would also add Reader has a difficult pregnancy . That’s why hubby was spoiling her so much.

Imagine the bat family dealing with a hormonal pregnant reader that blames them for their husband’s subsequent death while also being in pain?

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Also, if the family ended up insisting y’all stay at the manor you KNOW your husband would fuck you on every available surface without fucking care. He’d clean you and the place up right after, but everyone in that house would know how good he’d be dicking you down.

Alfred don’t care, he dealt with horny Bruce. Bruce, though, he just sit in his bed silently screaming in his own personal hell. Everyone else is traumatized. Especially when you be calling hubby daddy when he be hitting it just right.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

(I’m tagging this as SugarBaby!Reader and this is going to have to be a series at this point. One day, one day.)

[fangsandfeels]

"Everyone gets along because there is a threat", yadda, yadda, yadda.

Bullshit. This is not how real scenarios work and it has never been.

russia is a global threat right now, but the world can't decide between sucking its dick and politely asking it to stop because the mere thought of confronting russia makes it shit its pants. The very few countries who scream into the void, warning about russia and telling people to wake the fuck up are ignored and viewed as crazy doomsayers.

This is how real crisis looks like. Nobody works together against a threat because people are spineless cowards who would rather throw their neighbors under the bus than fight. Nobody learned anything from history lessons, books or survivors.

The only difference in a fantasy game is that NPCs end up having more spine and moral principles than real people.

But in Veilguard, everyone gets along because they have NO reasons not to.

Davrin has no real reasons to beef (if you can call it that) with Lucanis because he is a Grey Warden. He knows where Grey Wardens take their conscripts from. He knows that Grey Wardens regularly recruit mages who are a lot more likely to get possessed if they're not careful. Working with an assassin who knows friend from foe isn't the worst thing ever. One subtle warning about taking action if demon takes over is enough.

Taash has no reasons to antagonize Emmrich aside from horrible writing.

Neve gets along with Bellara because writers gave Bellara a happy childhood with her family and turned Dalish artifacts into Apple store gadgets, while refusing giving Neve any nuance as the citizen of Tevinter.

Emmrich gets along with everyone because he is generally a kind and well-mannered person who doesn't like to stir the pot.

Any companion who could have had a sharp edge, got that edge ripped off and a cartoon band-aid slapped on.

Never doesn't deal with people who don't know about Shadow Dragons (and they probably shouldn't know much because when you work against a powerful government who wants to destroy you, you shouldn't show off), so she constantly has to deal with the fact that people assume she is a noble or a slave-owner because she is from Tevinter; that they don't know that she had to literally fight against being enslaved herself because in Tevinter mages who refuse to use their power to dominate others are turned into slaves as well.

Bellara isn't conflicted about working with humans, especially Tevinter humans at all. She seems to never have dealt with oppression her whole life and she is super quick to write off Cyrian as evil even though there are clear SIGNS that he was tricked and controlled by the Forgotten One. But no, she never thinks "He is still there, I can save him, I won't lose him again", she goes straight to "Oh nooo my brother is dead to me".

Emmrich doesn't get burdened by people reacting to him and his sincere intention to help with fear, because of all the sinister rumors revolving around necromancers and Nevarra. He isn't hurt by people assuming that he loves death and things dying. If even he openly admitted that he is deeply terrified of death, they wouldn't have believed him.

Harding isn't burdened by the revelation she learned and what to do with it. Should she storm her way to the Orzammar? Should she talk to fellow surface dwarves and reconnect them with their history? Should she never breach the subject because the truth hurts and it's too much pain, too much anger to live with - and maybe she shouldn't let other dwarves go through it?

We don't even have a party divided on what to do with Solas (kill or talk it out)? Even though it's logical to have companions who are convinced that Solas has to die and those who think that he is misguided and can be convinced to stop.

Also, there are NO companions whose background, viewpoints and attitude would rile other companions up. We have no controversial characters whose interactions with the crew Rook would have been forced to intervene in unless they want their team to start throwing hands with each other.

We could have had Imshael - to give EVERYONE a reason to worry, and argue, and have conflicts. We could have had an ex-Venatori Calpernia bashing heads with Neve, Bellara, and Emrich. We could have had a Qunari spy who'd make Lucanis' dagger-arm itch.

If writers didn't forget about the Architect, we could have had an intelligent Darkspawn companion Davrin could be losing his shit around.

Or heck, we could have had a former red templar who got partially (magically?) reversed from their mad state and is now not a mindless beast, but still is on a borrowed time, probably needed due to their strength, but barely tolerated by anyone.

Who is fanatical, mostly because they have to believe they made a noble sacrifice, that it all was for the greater good -- because the truth scares them to their core. Who gives Lucanis shit for being an assassin and abomination, who bashes necromancy, and mages, and talks about purity, while downplaying their own actions as "Yes, these are my sins, but they are for the better world, and I would be proud to die for that world unlike you heathens who would rather ruin it than repent for your flaws". The kind of companion you'd initially want to do nothing with, but who can reveal an entire gallery of fucked up contradictions and trauma if you decide to keep them around.

However, writing such companions takes skill, courage, and requires absence of greedy corpo "we don't want to scare away new players with all that moral nuance" thinking.

[hellyeahsickaf]

The way addicts and chronically ill people are dehumanized is so exhausting

The normalization of this shit in medical and casual settings is genuinely mind boggling. Addicts and disabled people go through so much bullshit. I've dealt with many fucked up doctors when I just needed help

I had a kidney infection, some months back. This is always extremely medically urgent, and I was likely only hours from sepsis. I went to the hospital reporting my pain to be a 9/10. 9 because my 10 was gallstones. I experienced severe malpractice at the hospital and the doctor reported exams that never occured and false information while making me wait with nothing more than tylenol to hold me over (didn't touch the pain) and bring my fever down but that's a whole other story

They did however, deny me the pain medication I needed until it was time to go home. I'm deathly allergic to NSAIDS, but that's something an addict might say so they witheld pain relief because they'd rather me suffer just in case I'm a different kind of sick. An entire night, maybe 6 hours in the ER and they couldn't give me anything, not a small dose of morphine or one norco even a few hours prior to take the edge off of the pain while I was curled up shaking and crying. Just in case I was an addict looking for my fix, and my suffering was just withdrawals and good acting. In that case maybe I deserved it and should be denied my humanity. God forbid in that case I'm so desperate to alleviate unbearable withdrawals that I spend all night in the ER crying. Not the first time I've experienced red tape just to get relief from excruciating pain

But whatever. As per protocol I was asked to follow up with my pcp. So a few days later I called to set an appointment, but I'd also run out of norco and desperate to relieve the pain I asked if I could be filled even enough for a few days, until the pain was bearable. I had difficulty walking, laying down, and I again, can't take most pain relievers. The receptionist was nice and understanding, actually got me in touch with the doctor because she wanted me to be able to get my refill. Probably heard the pain in my voice even. She believed me

She transfers me over to the doctor and I tell him I'd like a follow up and ask if he could fill my painkillers. I would've acceped a no from him, I just needed my follow up. He asked about my condition, I told him my diagnosis and how much pain I was in

And he laughed.

Got a real hoot out of it, like he had me all figured out. Like he caught me trying to cheat the system. I must be trying to get high or make some money with a few days worth of norco as i'm nearly in tears from the pain even while calling

He tells me through his laughter "I don't prescribe painkillers for 'kidney infections'" saying it with a mocking emphasis on those words, as if I'd said "stubbed toe". Follows with "Yeah haha, bye." and hangs up on me. No follow up like I called for. Needless to say I no longer have a pcp but truly if he thought I was an addict trying to take advantage of him he should have still treated me professionally. Maybe not cackled when I said my pain was excruciating for a start

I just don't understand why the hell so many doctors can be so apathetic to people's suffering. Addicts deserve better and so do disabled people- whether you think they're addicts or not. The assumption that we're lying, trying to trick them and are feigning pain to do it is disgusting, listening to your patients is so important. And if that were the case they could have some sympathy and ask themselves what it would take for someone to go those lengths, take such drastic measures and go through that trouble to obtain those substances.

Addiction is not a moral failing. Many disabled and chronically ill people unfortunately rely on medications that have addictive properties. About 80% of heroin addicts first misused prescription drugs. However only about 4-6% of those addicted to prescription drugs switch to things like heroin. And instead of help or compassion for people who just need help (addicts or not), they just figure we're one in the same and treat us like subhuman degenerates, leeches on society. And I think people need to change how they view addiction. Doctors need to change how they view addiction

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for joking about offering to kill our mother in the sibling group chat?

So me (22, FtM), my sister L (21, F), and my two brothers E and H (19, FtM and 15, M) have a sibling group chat on instagram to keep up with each other, mainly to keep up with me because I'm living states away from them while they still live back in my homestate and are relatively close to each other still, living situation wise.

A few days back, H messaged the group chat about some Bullshit that our mother has been up to.

For context, H has medicine he takes that he needs or he'll be severely lethargic and in pain at best and probably close to death--if not dead--at worst. He's been dealing with this ailment since he was about 4 or 5 and while he's gotten better in recent years thanks to infusions, he obviously still needs the medications he takes now to keep him stable.

And for some reason our mother, who has put us through several years of physical, mental, emotional, and psychological abuse, not to mention denied that H had anything wrong with him when he developed his ailment (so add medical neglect to the long list of fucked up things she's done), is the ONLY one who knows how to order H's medication, down to prescription and where to order it from.

And those few days back, H messaged the sibling group chat to tell us that our mother has essentially been holding his medication hostage as leverage to still be able to keep contact with him, because pretty much everybody on her side of the family has gone little to no contact with her after the bullshit she's been making everyone put up with for nearly two decades now.

E was getting right to fixing the problem, asking H for our mother's contact so he can get the info about H's medication so E can relay to H as well as our grandma, who has custody over H.

I was busy at the time and had my phone on silent (and oddly enough Instagram doesn't like to give me notifications anyway when it comes to DMs and group chat messages) so when I had the chance to catch up on chat I was very rightfully pissed, but didn't want to go all out rant mode in the chat when my brothers were already getting it dealt with and probably stressed and pissed too.

So to lighten the mood after reading and catching up in chat I send a message saying "do you want me to kill her for you" as a sorta dark humor kind of way to show I'm there for them as much as I can be being as physically distant as I am.

H says 'No', and E starts playing into the joke too. And up until this point, L had been quiet too. Until the me making a joke about offing our horribly abusive mother was a step too far apparently, and she sent a message saying "Bye, guys" before leaving group chat.

For additional context, L was the golden child out of the four of us. At least for our mother. She's dealt with her own issues of abuse too from our mother, but has certainly gotten the better end of the deal and was treated significantly better than the rest of us for all of our childhood. So despite everything, we all suspect on some level that L still has some sort of spot for our mother.

E had to reinvite L to the chat and explain to her that, in these words exactly: E: "No one was serious [L], no one actually wants to kill [Mother]"

E: "You have a bunch of siblings who are hurt over [Mother] being a horrible mother, sometimes shit gets said"

The chat's been quiet for a good few days ever since and, I dunno, it's all left a bitter taste in my mouth since it happened. Am I the asshole here, since I kinda caused her dipping from the group chat in the first place because of it?

What are these acronyms?

[alchemistc]

i wanna start out by saying ive been patiently waiting for a hockey AU on the bucktommy fandom and your Goon fic is everything i have ever wanted, im honestly obsessed with your characterization of tommy

i have never been that big on rpf in the hockey fandom, but i always love reading people write crosby in their hockey aus, also love how you include Hockey Lore TM in the story

so, i wanted your take on the insane 'tradition' (not really tradition, more of a common occurrence) of players playing through injuries specially in the playoffs (I remember that in the 2016 or 2017 cup run, there was more players currently injured on the penguins than not, pretty sure Letang or Daley had like, broken fingers for most of the last round) and how many times Buck had to run away from Hen so he could play, because if anyone is more likely to play through injuries, i'd say is Evan "i-had-another-surgery-instead-of-waiting-for-my-leg-crush-injury-to-heal-naturally" Buckley, or Evan "I-sued-my-job-because-they-wouldnt-let-me-do-said-job-after-said-leg-crush-injury-and-vomitting-blood" Buckley

Thank you thank you! Goon has been so much fun to craft, and I'm loving seeing the hockey fans and the 'what's a chiclet' 9-1-1 fans alike enjoy it!

Personally? I hate it. I think the whole idea of it is fucking insane and detrimental to not only their physical health but their mental health as well. (From the Avs fan perspective, regardless of what we actually know about the Nichushkin situation, the man broke his foot and played through it, likely got addicted to a painkiller in the recovery process, missed a playoff series because of [redacted], had a career fucking year and then sent himself to the Players Assistance Program, came back, had MORE career highlights, and then...failed a drug test in the run up to the playoffs and got himself suspended.

(Another reason players just play through injury and mental health crisis is the Players Assistance Program, which IS ANOTHER MAJOR FAILING OF HOCKEY CULTURE IN GENERAL)

Hell, Landy played through a not-healed-injury after he took Cale's skate to his knee and now he's had two surgeries and may never make another appearance in a game because of it.

(I can't think of the player at the moment, but I remember a cup run where a player was playing with fractured ribs and it was later revealed that if he'd taken a puck or a nasty hit or gone into the boards wrong there was a chance he'd have had a vital organ punctured and likely wouldn't have known the extent of the damage until he'd collapsed from internal bleeding. It didn't happen, but WHAT THE FUCK)

And fans have a tendency to glorify them as gods for 'fighting through the pain' in their quest for the Cup.

As far as Goon goes:

They're all gonna be playing through injury. SInce this is from Tommy's perspective, he's coming at it from two angles - he's the guy who's played through injury his whole career just to keep a spot in the lineup, he's toughed it out and dealt with the numbing agents and the wraps and the twinge that doesn't go away for weeks at a time (and the aforementioned pain killers that eventually prompted him to go to fucking therapy in the first place). He is also the guy who has spent four years unpacking why exactly he did that - how much of it is the culture, how much of it is his own shit and his dad telling him to rub some dirt in it and stop being a pussy, how much of it has just been to prove himself capable of being one of the guys in the room.

There's also Hen, who pushes harder than the other trainers, and calls out the bullshit when she sees it, so yeah, this team probably has a slightly better track record of keeping the guy out with upper body injury out of the lineup for longer than any other team would, but - Buck's not the only one who's learned how to lie about exactly how much pain he's in and how well his recovery is going. He'll strain shit and refuse to admit it, he'll push through on a 'minor' injury unless he thinks playing on it would threaten his career. (He absolutely has NO real concept of how bad an injury actually is, tbh, because like everyone else he's been lying about it for so long he doesn't have an accurate pain scale.)

The tldr of this is that I don't condone it, but the reality is it's so ingrained in kids coming up that it's a reality of the culture and I'm not necessarily gonna shy away from that. It's not a huge focus of the story, but there will be hints here and there.

[bubblegumrush]

A𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 H𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤⌇𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐚��𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫⌇𝙰𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖

In the old, decrepit building, which once belonged to Class 3-E, the sun shone through the cracked windows with a small gust of wind creaking through. In this class, we could find the faded spirits of the former students of the famous group 3-E. Here on this hill, you found yourself a few feet away from the old building. Overwhelmed by the memories of the past, you hear your comrades, who had come back to clean the cabin, shouting your name from a distance.

"Y/N, save me!" Kaede screamed, hiding behind you as Okajima ran after her with a hose. She blocked herself by pushing you in front of you, thus getting you sprayed in the process. "Ha, that’s what you get for showing up late." Okajima mocked you. 

You shot death glares at him before balling up your hands into a fist and getting yourself ready to pounce on his head. "Ow!" He yelled loudly, kneeling on the ground and covering his head. "And that’s what you get for spraying me." You mocked him the same way he mocked you. "Jerk, I have a meeting after this. So, this better dry up in an hour." You glared at him threateningly. He gave an apologetic look and waved his hand for mercy.

 "A meeting? Are you sure you’re not too busy?" Yada asked, "No, no. It’s perfectly fine. Plus, I can’t miss out on visiting this place again. It’s been so long." You looked around to see the building, clean and shining. "Yeah, agreed. We’ve all become so busy, so it’s nice to reunite once again. Sadly, not all of us could make it but I’m glad you could, Y/N.” Isogai looked at you with a soft smile, “Now, let’s finish up inside. Y/N, you should join us; we could use an extra pair of hands." He suggested and you happily accepted.

You walked in the corridor of your old school; each step creaked louder than the previous. You peeked your head into the old teacher’s lounge and found Kaede cleaning by herself.

"Hey," You walked in quietly, making sure not to scare her. "Need any help?" She smiled widely and handed you a soaped cloth. "It’s been so long since we last talked; how’s life?" She asked you, "Ever since you became a lawyer, we rarely got to see each other. I got kind of scared that you forgot all about me. You must be really busy." She chuckled at the end, looking over at you. 

"You’re one to talk, releasing movies after movies like it’s no big deal. You seem so busy; I feel like you forgot about me." You both laughed, as your laughter echoed throughout the room. "But in all seriousness, work's been killing me. I have never dealt with such a pain in my ass. What’s more, I’m not even getting paid to suffer through his bullshit. This ‘supposed’ meeting he planned this afternoon, that I have to leave in an hour or two, he probably won’t even show up." You sighed angrily, rubbing the desk harder as you ranted about your frustration.

"Hehe, poor Y/N. Why don’t you just get a new client? I heard you have pretty big clients, and I’m sure you’ll be able to get a much bigger one and get paid way better than what that jerk is paying you." Kaede suggested.

"Easier said than done. Plus, it’s not about the money; I’m actually doing really well financially. Besides, I’m stuck.. with that jerk…"

You let out a long sigh before dipping your dirty cloth in soap and warm water. "Who’s your client anyway? There’s no way they can treat you that way." She inquired.

"…" A long silence filled the room as you searched in your head for some plausible white lie you could tell her. "Nobody of notable name…" You replied after letting a long silence fill in every creek in your conversation. She looked into your eyes, reading your face like an open book. You avoid her glare, feeling like she's found out a big secret of yours. 

"No… Don’t tell me it's..."

Once again, the sound of quietness took over the lounge as she stared deeply into your eyes, knowing exactly which guy you were talking about.

"It’s Karma…" You revealed it in a hushed tone before she said anything.

Big surprise, not really. You were Karma’s assistant—well, assistant is a little far-fetched, but you were basically his to control... sounds bad but it’s actually not that bad. After being tricked into being his lawyer, all his dirty work became yours, and you were essentially being exploited for his needs since he wasn't paying you. You weren't doing charity work, of course, since he promised to pay you when he finished his work, which is in an indefinite amount of time. But it's not like you needed the money; you were well off for having big clients, so money wasn't a problem. Although doing his work and being constantly condescended by his egotism didn't help the fact that you were basically his slave... so, on second thought it is bad...

You could see her eyes fill with disappointment. "Y/N, really? Karma?" she questioned. "I thought you were over him?"

"I am, honest. But he and I are still friends, and I couldn’t refuse him; who could refuse a friend?"

"Liar, I know you’re doing this because you’re still into him. I can see it in your eyes." She pointed at you, accusing you of lying. "Honestly, Y/N, just get it over with." She sighed, crossed her arms, and shook her head in disappointment.

"Huh?"

"I mean, you guys always had this tension between you guys; it’s obvious you guys have a spark. So, why not just hook up and see where it leads you? I don’t see what’s holding you two back."

"HUH?"

"Stop ‘huh’-ing me; you know what I’m saying, you just won’t admit it."

"Sorry, I thought you were going in a disapproving direction. Didn’t think you’d be saying that." You shook your head in confusion.

"I don’t see what’s the problem; you guys definitely kept in touch after all those years, and he chose you as his lawyer, meaning he definitely wants you around. Plus, you kept being his lawyer after—who knows what he makes you do? This is definitely a commitment from both sides. So, what’s missing is a hookup, and BAM, I’ll be patiently waiting for a wedding invitation in the upcoming months." She smiled devilishly at the last remark.

"Hold your horses; I doubt this is anything like what you’re thinking of. He and I are work buddies; we have a purely work relationship. My feelings for him are one-sided. The only interactions between us are the emails we send about work, boring ass conversations and his endless pranks. So, sorry to crash on your wedding hopes, but there isn’t going to be one." You grunted, leaping into a chair demonstrating how you’ve given up chasing after him.

Kaede sighed loudly: "You guys are complicated; you’re clearly chasing after the wrong guy. And knowing Karma, he probably already knows about your thing for him. So, what I suggest is that you ditch this meeting and let’s go get some drinks. He can do the documents or whatever you planned on doing alone; he’s not a baby. And we, the girls who haven’t hung out in a while, can go have fun and let loose. I've been waiting for a day like this; being on movie sets gets irritating after a while."

She grabbed your hands, pulled you closer, and gave you puppy eyes. She also wore a devilish smile, but all in all, her idea wasn’t so bad. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you stayed with Karma for the chance of something happening between you too, but clearly you had the wrong idea. You’ve known for a while that he knows about your crush on him, but he still hasn’t made a move. So, it clearly means he isn’t interested. Besides, he can handle the work himself; he doesn’t need you on his ass to fill out those documents. "Sure, one beer, though. I can’t get wasted; tomorrow I have an actual meeting with a prominent client."

"Yeah, yeah." Kaede agreed, knowing full well you were going to have more than one beer.

 Six beers later, you were fully wasted. Though not as much as Kaede, you were wasted. With the little soberness you had inside of you, you called a cab for Kaede and you, making sure she got home safely before you went home. During the car ride towards her house, your mind cleared up a little, but as soon as you got up and stood up, the dizziness came back. You carried Kaede on your back to her apartment before leaving with a clear mind that she was safe and sound asleep in her bed.

When it came time to head home, everything just seemed to go by so fast that you could only remember crashing on your couch and falling asleep.

The door gently opened; somebody clearly forgot to lock the front door. Footsteps moved closer and closer to a resting body before kneeling in front of it. Resting his body against the couch and sitting down on the floor, he looked at her peaceful face while she slept, mouth wide open. He pinched her nose, closed her mouth, and waited.

You gasped for air, waking up in an instant. The blood rushed through your head, causing you to have a headache. "Fuck. What’s wrong with you?" You looked frustratedly to your left, knowing exactly who it was.

"You’re one to talk; who lets their front door unlocked? And since you didn’t show up to today’s meeting, I thought you got killed or something. Turns out you’re fucking wasted." He explained furiously, furrowing his eyebrows.

"And...what the fuck do you want? I have the right to be wasted and to be wasted whenever I want, like you have the right to be a bitch and to be one whenever you want. Have you heard of the word freedom? Clearly not, plus you’re trespassing in my house. I have the right to call the cops on you. Get your ass pulled into jail. That’d be a funny news story and a nice image to have for myself." You started spewing a bunch of nonsense, clearly slowly sobering up but still as drunk as before you fell asleep. "Plus, why are you on my ass all the time? It’s not like I’m going anywhere. You've got me so fucking obsessed that leaving now would be a fucking waste."

"Obsessed?" He questioned you, still sitting in front of you, while you yelled at him.

Oops, slip of the tongue. 

"Pfft, stop acting dumb. You know fully well what I’m obsessed over; I’ve been for years. Ugh, years…" 

Why can’t I stop yapping...

You looked at him in the darkness that was your living room. The small light that beamed through your silk curtains lit the room slightly. You saw his dimmed face; you saw his eyes, his ears, his brows, and his lips. You were obsessed with him.

"I’m obsessed with you…" 

Fuck. 

Silence dominated the room, and as soon as five seconds passed, you felt yourself sober up in an instant from what you just said. You sprung up quickly and left towards the kitchen, not looking back or wanting to look at him at all. You filled yourself a cup of water and gulped it down as if you'd been dehydrated for days. With a sober-ish mind, you hit yourself mentally for absolutely embarrassing yourself.

You weren't aware of him creeping up behind you when he said, "Y/N," turning you towards him. Tightly grabbing your waist, he pulled you closer as he loomed over you. "Stay."

You chuckled awkwardly, confused about what he was doing. "Hehe… It’s not like I can go anywhere..."

He rested his head on yours since he was obviously taller, while you tried to glance up in an attempt to see his face. "Karma... Are you okay? You're not acting like your usual self."

He didn't respond, "Are you making fun of me? Cuz if you are, it's not funny. My feelings for you are genuine, and making a joke out of it isn't funny." You felt a sense of humiliation, he clearly was trying to do something to embarrass yourself.

He still didn't respond, but he moved closer. Slowly raising his right hand to cup your cheek as he approached your face. He raised your chin to look into your eyes. The longer you stared intensely into his eyes, the faster you could feel your heart beat.

Suddenly, he burst into laughter, hugging you tightly in his arms and rubbing your head, frizzing up your hair.

Your heart began to break as soon as you heard him laugh, as you knew it was all a joke to him. You felt your blood start to boil, so you pushed him off angrily and kneed him right where it would hurt.

"Fuck, Y/N. What's wrong with you? I didn't mean to laugh at-"

"You think I'm a joke to you. I am, aren't I? A big fucking joke to fuck around with." You cut him off furiously. You felt your heart shatter after you had opened it up for him. You were about to knee him again but got stopped midway through.

"Hey, stop it." He angrily grabbed your thigh, so you couldn't knee him anymore. "Will you calm down and listen to what I have to say?"

You calmed down and listened, though with very little patience. "Fine." 

He released you from his grip and prompted himself on the kitchen island. He let out a long sigh before chuckling to himself. 

"Jeez, you are crazy." He looked at you with a smirk, making you turn your head in frustration. "Guess I have to make it even know." He stood up and walked closer to you.

"As you have embarrassed yourself, I guess it's only fair to you if I embarrass myself by telling you this." He paused for a second before looking straight into your eyes.

"Y/N, I'm in love with you."

"…" 

"You are…?"

He burst into a fit of laughter, completely dumbfounded by what you said. "Is it that hard to believe? I guess you’ve never had this charming of a guy fall for you, have you?" He grinned at you, his ego showing.

"How do I know if you’re telling the truth? How do I know you’re not lying to me right now?"

You squeezed your fists tightly, looking down at the floor and feeling angry with yourself.

"Y/N," he called out your name, knowing you were off in your head. "Listen, maybe there is no way for me to prove it; maybe there is. But right now, I’m telling you the truth and nothing but the truth. I know I’m not the kind of guy to say things like this, but for you, I’ll say them." Slowly, he moved closer and closer to you, his body inches away from yours.

"I love you; I have since the day I’ve known you. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again and again." He leaned closer, lowering his head slowly towards yours. The tension between you could be cut with a knife. You felt your heartbeat get faster and faster as your hands became moist.

"Karma, I-"

He suddenly stood up and straightened himself up, passing his hand through his hair and loudly sighing. "It’s getting late; I probably should head back. You should get some rest; you look like you need it."

And then he left. Without looking back or saying goodbye, he left.

[transfaguette]

I was gonna say "I hope you have a nice day", just as... you know, a little nice anon ask... use the feature how it ought to be used, but it's pretty obvious that's not where things are so I'll commiserate instead

That whole bank thing is just sick. I got a credit union, so they try and start charging fees if I don't make transactions for too long, but man yours is so much worse. That's just vile. It literally ought to be illegal. It's your money, what give anyone the right to take it just cause you aren't using it a certain way?

Also I'm real sorry about the chronic pain. I've had a few friends over the years who've had chronic pain (and maybe I do too... I can't really tell, cause... it's just how my body feels, how much pain is it? ...I don't know)

Everything they ever dealt with, from doctors, to never quite managed pain even at the best of times... it's a rough deal

I hope you have a lot of low pain days in your future, that your flare ups are minimal and infrequent

The world's a mess, we live in a broken system which makes it hard to live. So things are rough right now just cause they're legit hard, not cause of any failing on your end

I mean look at the society we've created, where people with no money have to pay large sums of money, to get access to programs to help deal with the fact they don't have any money

People like you and me... we'll do what we can to try and make it a bit better... there's probably not a lot in our power, but we do what we can... it's just a hard time to be alive, and it's probably always been a hard time to be alive, but for me at least... all you can do is try and make it less hard for the other people... try to make a dent so many some day it won't be a hard time to be alive

Anyway sorry about the weird, long ask. Like I said... I just... I wanted to say something nice to you, just a little nice message, but... it would have felt tone deaf seeing the things you've got going on

So instead I decided on weird but candid

I do hope you have a good day soon. Some way, some how, I hope things go good for you

...in the meantime though, that sucks, you're dealing with bullshit and you shouldn't have to be. I hope what can get better gets better soon, and I hope what can't drops to minimal levels

Regardless, take care

this is such a lovely ask, thank you <3 I wouldn’t have thought it was tone deaf to just wish me a nice day, but I really appreciate the thoughtfulness here. it did make my day better :)

[arsontastic-fandom-takes]

It was an average day in the Devildom. (at least this version of it)

MC had shown up to the HOL and did whatever the 7 brothers needed them to, with the compulsory antics ensuing, as was customary. They were having fun, and it was all going well.

Until it wasn't.

The signs that they should rest their eyes started at around 14:16, and, like a stubborn idiot, they ignored them. The brothers would be here to take care of them, after all.

They didn't realise that they weren't in their timeline until their eyes were burning and they were rushing to their room, looking for eye drops, only to realise that it wasn't their room yet and their eyedrops were in Cocytus Hall, with Solomon.

As much as they loved the dumbass, they wouldn't trust him with this. And, while he could deal with joint pains and fatigue episodes, he couldn't deal with them constantly rubbing their eyes to try and alleviate the searing pain. He was an extremely powerful sorcerer who had even the strongest demons in his league, but he couldn't deal with people massaging their eyes. Or putting in eye drops.

Another thing about this timeline: none of the brothers trusted them yet. They're a weird demon to them, newly fallen angels, and asking them to look after them while their head hurt too much to think was downright stupid at this point in time.

As they were lamenting about their unfortunate circumstances, the door to the room opened behind them, and as soon as they heard who it was, MC knew they were fucked.

Their back still to the door, MC took a deep breath in and closed their eyes.

"What are you doing in here?" Lucifer asked, his voice threatening. One wrong move, and they'd have to deal with his anger, which, even on a good day, was unpleasant.

Heaven's sake, how do they even reply to that question without getting into trouble? They didn't think they could.

They willed themself to turn around, towards the light that was making them want to claw their eyeballs out, and open their eyes. Might as well be facing him when he kills them.

He was far away and blurry. Fuck, they weren't wearing their glasses. That's probably why the world itself seemed to hate them.

"... Well?" Dangerous. That was how they would explain this situation before them, were they asked. Even though they struggled to make out his face, it didn't take a genius to figure out he was challenging them.

He flips the light switch on, and all they can do to defend the attack against their corneas is to fall to their knees and cover their eyes, crying out. They suddenly felt very nauseous. Why does their eyes hurting always cause them to feel nauseous?

Nausea was one of the things they hated most. Naturally, behind burning pain and feeling useless. They were experiencing all three of those, but who truly cared? They'd dealt with this bullshit before and they'll probably survive, so they just have to wait it out and hope it feels better.

.....

Are their eyes getting worse, or are they just overexaggerating the problem? Either way, the backs of their eyes were feeling as if they had been dipped into molten lava and they had to keep an arm over their mouth to feel like they wouldn't puke. When was the last time they ate? Most of the food they had been able to eat didn't exist yet or weren't available in the Devildom yet, so they'd just been ignoring the growing pain in their stomach.

Oh shit. What if they starve to death?

That was unlikely, they knew, but it was still horrifying. Starving was one of the worst ways to die, other than dehydration, drowning, suffocation, and being burned alive. The thought of their stomach acid slowly eating through it's container, days worth of lacking nutrition and sustenance making their body turn against them, was causing them to hold their arm closer to their mouth, mostly in raw fear.

They was so caught up in their thoughts that they didn't notice Lucifer crouching down next to them until the feeling of a gloved hand on their head brought them out of their spiral.

They startled, opening their eyes despite the pain. He was close enough that they didn't need to be wearing their glasses to see him properly, and had concern etched onto his face, the earlier danger nowhere to be seen.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his hand returning to his side now that he'd caught their attention.

"Honestly? Not at all." They gave a humorless laugh.

"May I inquire about what's wrong?"

"Oh, just being plagued by visions. Y'know, the usual." They spoke the term they were used to. Back in their time, they had started referring to their eye problems like this to lighten their mood, and it just stuck.

Lucifer raised his eyebrow. It took them a second to realise that he hadn't encountered this yet.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. You probably don't know what I'm talking about. My eyes sometimes start burning, and I started calling it being 'plagued by visions' a few years ago."

"Ah. Burning, you say?"

"Yeah, it's usually, like, this searing pain at the backs of my eyes. Light usually makes it worse."

"Okay. Why were you in this room, though?"

Shit. They couldn't say this used to be their room. What excuse could they make to explain this? Maybe they could say half-truths?

"I thought my eye drops were in here. They weren't, though."

He eyed them suspiciously.

"Why would they be here? Last I remember, this room was off limits."

Lying to a very powerful demon wasn't that bad, right? Oh well, in for a penny, in for a dime.

"I honestly don't know."

He squinted at them. They squinted back.

After a while of staring at eachother, Lucifer spoke again.

"You said light makes it worse, correct?" A nod of confirmation. "Will you be able to walk home by yourself in this condition?"

They shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but I'll manage."

He scoffed. "If you are so willing to get away from here that you'd put your safety on the line, I don't know what to tell you. I will say that I won't permit our only attendant being run over on their way home, though."

"What do you suggest I do instead, then?"

"I suggest that you let me walk you home."

That caught them off guard. The Lucifer from their timeline never had to walk them home, but he only started walking them to their room after they became close. Maybe this was to do with Lucifer only recently having fallen. Maybe he's still used to his angel ways, as unlikely as that sounds.

Still, a part of their heart fluttered. Him showing signs of caring about what happens to them is currently akin to finding an oasis in a desert. They missed him being affectionate.

"All right. Thank you."

The walk home was nice, even if the street lights made them want to cry and it was quite silent. Lucifer was surprisingly helpful on the way, and now they were both standing at the front door of Cocytus Hall.

Mc turned around, gave a final salute to Lucifer, and then rang the doorbell before screaming. "Solomon, I know you're home already! Get your ass out of here and help your poor apprentice get into their home!"

After what seemed like a second of thought, they added; "And I swear to Diavolo that if you're anywhere near my stove, I will kick your ass."

After a minute, the door opened to reveal Solomon wearing a stain-covered apron. It was, indeed, the case that he had been cooking. "Oh, hello, dear! I thought I'd make you some dinner after your long day of work." At a murmer of "You little- I thought we agreed on you not using the kitchen?", he laughed. Then, he noticed Lucifer and raised an eyebrow.

Before he could question, Lucifer spoke up. "I was walking your, ahem, apprentice, home. I'll take my leave now."

Although the walk home for MC was pleasant, Lucifer's was full of doubts. Why had he offered to take them home? They probably could have made it themself. Also, why did he feeling so.. negative when Solomon called them 'dear'? He knew the two of them were in a relationship, it had been made apparent to him as soon as they could, but why did it irk him so?

He had paperwork to worry about, this was moronic to focus on.

________

Likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated.

[chickensarentcheap]

@youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @tragiclyhip @themaradwrites @thebejeweledwatercat @ninjasawakenedmystar @mrsmungus @karimac @kmc1989 @asirensrage @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @alisbackalleybbq

“Mister Rake.” The older man’s smile is disingenuous. Smug. And Tyler wishes he could wipe it clear off his face. There’s no love lost between them; Winston always less than welcoming during the handful of visits Tyler had paid to the hotel in the past. He’s far below them on the food chain in the manager’s opinion; the Australian with the scruffy beard and the various tattoos and scars that decorated his body. A little too ‘rough around the edges’; viewed as uncivilized and ‘untrainable’ due to his ‘messy’ appearance and his ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude. And, according to Winston’s own words, nothing more than a painful and embarrassing blight on the establishment.

“Winston.”

“I’ve been expecting you.”

“Wish I could say the same. Long time no see.”

“It has been.” The older man opens the door wider, stepping aside as he motions for Tyler to enter the suite. “And to be quite frank, I could have gone the rest of my days never laying eyes on you again.”

“I know you really don’t mean that. I know you missed me. I brought some color to this place. Some life.”

“Join me, will you?” Winston gestures towards the patio; a waiter in a sleek black suit, crisp white shirt and matching gloves busily setting a table. Laying out carafes of hot and cold drinks and platters of various breakfast foods.

“As much as I’d love to, I’ve got plans. That don’t include your particular brand of bullshit.”

“Perhaps just a coffee then. While our Esme…”

“Our Esme? When did it become OUR? Because I don’t share. Not with you. Not with ANYONE.”

“...finishes getting herself and the little one ready for the day. I’m asking nicely, Mister Rake. Extending a level of politeness and civility that you probably aren’t used to. Nor do you rightfully deserve. I’m well aware I’m not your favourite person and believe me, the feeling is quite mutual. I insist you join me. If you know what’s best for you.”

Tyler is far from stupid; he’s dealt with the likes of Winston -and much worse- on many occasions. And he knows it truly is in his best interest to accommodate the man’s demands. If he was alone, he wouldn’t think twice about turning his back and walking away. Or about putting his fist through the other man’s face. But the latter would no doubt result in him leaving The Continental body bag; no one surviving the swift punishment that is handed down when breaking The High Table’s sacred ‘covenants’. And there’s just way too much at stake; people depending on him to make sure they make a clean escape from not only the hotel’s grounds, but also the city and country. Paying job aside, Esme and Millie need him; both putting forth a level of trust and expectation that he can’t fail. So despite his anger and disgust, he doesn’t resist and instead steps out onto the patio; reaching for the sunglasses that dangle from the neck of his shirt and slipping them onto his face.

He drops heavily into one of the chairs. Requesting coffee from the waiter and then nodding thanks when his cup is filled to the brim.

“What the hell do you want, Winston? Because I’m not quite sure I possess the level of patience you require.”

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he slips into a seat across from Tyler. “You knew this moment was coming. From the second you stepped through the front doors. You knew I wanted to meet with you; I specifically asked Charon to pass the message along. I made it very clear we needed to talk. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Talk. Whether you’re comfortable with it or not. And as for what you ‘brought’ to The Continental? You brought nothing but violence and chaos.”

“Isn’t that what this life is all about? What you harbour here? Enable? Violence and mayhem? Let’s cut the shit; you’re not exactly putting up people who are pillars of their communities. Our packaging might be different, but the contents are the same. We’re all monsters in some way.”

“Our breeds of monsters are two entirely different things. In two completely different leagues. But it’s to be expected, I suppose. Given your type.”

“My type? What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve got something against Australians?”

“I’ve got something against those that refuse to toe the line. That run in circles we don’t approve of.”

[yeebeemaxheehee]

TW// discussions of Self harm, miseducation surrounding marginalized groups (including disabled specifically), and general abuse in regards to A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

THIS WAS WRITTEN AT 2 IN THE FUCKING MORNING BECAUSE I AM STILL ANGRY AT THIS BOOK. I AM A TEEN GIRL, NOT A PROFESSIONAL REVIEWER.

-

-

If you asked me how i felt about a little life by Hanya Yanagihara, i would say “oh it’s not for me and i didn’t really like the story”

but if u asked me on a deeper level…

I’d say that this is one of the most harmful books a person could read. It took me six months after reading it to realize how much i despised this ‘story’ and this came when learning the authors intent behind creating it. She believes that Jude St. Francis was not capable of being happy. Subsequently, people who have experienced abuse and severe depression might read this book and think, “well, if life is only going to get worse and worse until the bitter end, may as well end it now”. I sincerely find that the message of this book is “traumatized and suicidal people should kill themselves!” The complete lack of any research just solidifies how she used this book as an exposé into what ways a person can possibly experience pain before an audience calls bullshit. I call bullshit. She could have gotten her point that i suppose she had across without the graphic detail surrounding sexual abuse and self harm. This reads like a “how to harm yourself: ten creative ways!” instead of seeking profession help. That’s the other thing, she thinks seeing psychiatrists is a bad thing! Genuinely what the fuck is wrong with her. This book has given me covid both times i read it and made me throw up (the first part is a coincidence probably, the second is true. I almost threw up after reading a scene on public transportation). This has been called the “great gay novel” a billion fucking times when the entire relationship, Jude is forcing himself to be retraumatized for the sake of love, before finally, Willem just starts fucking a woman so Jude doesn’t suffer. Why do u hate gay men??? Jude cannot even be categorized as gay because she has traumatized this poor fictional character so much that he has no ability to understand his own sexuality, as is made clear through the reading living in his brain for the majority of his and Willem’s relationship. Getting back to the self harm (as Hanya loves to do throughout the 813 pages of this terrible novel), she is so descriptive that it far surpasses painting an image of the scene and evoking emotion from the readers. She goes far past these points and creates scenes so vivid and instructional that it retriggers every reader (hyperbole) who has ever dealt with any kind of self harm. And for those who haven’t yet, i would not be surprised if some depressed 14 year old picks this up because of the rave reviews and discovers a cool, fun, and new addiction! One thing is for sure, do fucking research, go to therapy, and stop hating gay disabled men, Hanya. The death count of this book is not 0 (though this is obviously not the authors fault, of course). Do better. Add triggers. Never write again. Thanks.

[thessalian]

This is a day in which I hate everything.

I was left with almost every single shitty bit of typing on record. Two eleven-minute monstrosities, a dozen or more five-odd minute monstrosities, plus all the ones that nobody else actually likes doing (because the request we made that someone talk to two of The Annoyances so that they'd maybe stop being less annoying went absolutely fucking nowhere). The slightly good news is that we did get all of yesterday's stuff done and at least a little ways into today's typing ... not helped by New Girl, who not only held off on picking up new stuff out of the queue until the scary long stuff was gone and started haphazardly doing individual cases still in the general queue a half-hour before the end of her working day, but also sat on a long-ass prostate report by one of The Annoyances until we'd gone well past its spot in the chronological order, at which point she dropped it back into the main queue so that someone else would do the fucking thing, but never mind. The real issue is that, because there are so many doctors reporting and so relatively few typists typing (and some of them being deliberately slow with shit they shouldn't be slow with, since they're taking so much care to only take easy dictation), the queue is up to nearly 270 cases.

This, as you can probably imagine, has left me in a state of just ... everything can just fuck off. I note that I am being a lot less generous in my dealings with things. Which I'm not going into because vagueposting is bullshit and generally hurtful. But it just means that I am soooooooo far past done and I have no real way of getting back into a state of absolute piss-off.

The stress isn't helping my whole fibro thing, either. It seems that the whole ... well ... *gestures to everything* has put me in such a state of frustration, rage, stress, and underlying misery that it's kicked off a pain flare and a migraine. And I know damn well that tomorrow is going to be worse. By, like, orders of magnitude worse. 270 cases in the queue and I know damn well that at least a few of the doctors are going to keep working until at least 6pm, possibly later, so the queue is going to be worse tomorrow morning. The fact that they start at 8am at the latest when very few of the secretaries start that early doesn't help either. And it being Friday doesn't help because they work weekends. And the "We need to hire someone new" item on our staff meeting agenda kind of vanished into the aether at some point, or possibly it was "We dealt with that by hiring New Girl as a permanent member of staff". That isn't a solution, though, because a) we needed more staff when she was temping and getting her paycheque from our organisation instead of a temp agency does not change that, and b) it's NEW GIRL, and she's a lazy mare on a number of levels and I do not understand why they hired her.

The one tiny shining point in my day ... well, it was sort of a mixed blessing. See, one of The Annoyances is ... a pretty big annoyance on a number of levels. He's a) a junior doctor so not entirely comfortable with the big things he's reporting on, b) not from this country so his accent is heavy and his English sentence structure is ... lacking, and c) somewhat inept at technology so he often ends up in a situation where his headset isn't linking up via Bluetooth to the computer he's using, so his voice always sounds far away and garbled because the in-built mic on the monitor halfway across the room is the only one picking up his dictation. No one likes to do his. I am no exception. The difference is, I can do his, and fairly well. I've dealt with most of those issues for a large percentage of my professional life. I don't like doing it - it's frustrating, it's time-consuming, and it's generally speaking a pain in the arse - but I am pretty good at turning word salad into a legible report or letter.

Now, this particular Annoyance ended the dictation by asking whoever typed it to email him when the report was done. Another few minutes out of my day, but fuck it; fine. So I emailed him. First I got an email saying, "Thanks for that". I figured that was the end of it, but nope! Then I got an email saying, "Oh, wow; I was going to log in to make changes but you wrote what I was trying to say so I don't have to! Thanks!"

I was a little bewildered for a moment ... and then I remembered that the rest of my colleagues (Goblin in particular takes great pride in this) tend to type exactly what is said. No editing as they go, no matter how badly a report needs it. Now, I'm used to being a PA, and to transcribing letters rather than just reports; in a lot of my jobs, I'd have been sacked if I'd ever typed out a letter or report exactly as written. Editing as I go is second nature, because so many doctors need it. Even the ones who have English as a first language are sometimes really bad with sentence structure, never mind those with English as a second or even third or fourth language. So I can't imagine doing anything else. But apparently the other girls are so set on typing only what is said, exactly how it's said, that he has had to ask us to email him when one of his reports are typed so that he can edit the thing. With me, he doesn't have to.

And see, that's why the warm fuzzies are being badly marred by an "uh-oh" feeling. What happens if he decides that I should be the only one that types his stuff? I mean, I do a fair bit of his anyway, but if the response to the few times when someone else types his is, "Lemme go back and edit the whole thing", and the response to me typing it is, "It's cool, I can leave it alone and save some time"... I've had it happen before, where a particular pain in the arse has basically demanded that I be the only one to type their reports and letters. Really don't want to give the girls another excuse to leave me with The Annoyances. Because you know they wouldn't take more of The Annoyances that aren't this guy to compensate.

Okay. I feel a little less like I'm going to murder someone for breathing too loud in my presence (which is good because the kids living in the block of flats are playing on the hill-lawn and there's the kid-shriek noise and it is not helping my head even the tiniest bit). Still miserable as hell, mind you. Somewhat uninspired as to what to do about it, though. Ugh.

[sydperion]

SPOILERS FOR VANISHING ACT PT.2 !!

thoughts ab jupeter’s cyclical ass trajectory and s5′s overall themes below the cut i am foaming at the mouth

i have a feeling that this season, Nureyev’s journey is going to hella parallel Juno’s in S1/2, and it’ll be Juno’s powerful emotional development that will lead Nureyev to take the same steps. SO much of S4 was Juno repaying the graces that the crime family gave him since they all met, and I think Nureyev is the final point he has.

In the last episode (Vanishing Act Pt. 2), Nureyev says flat out that he KNOWS the debts are probably a fallacy just to keep him under the Executive’s power, but that he needs to repay Slip with his life, in order to pay the proper price. It’s the emotional debt that matters not the money. You know what that sounds like? Penance. Y’all remember last time we were exploring themes of penance? 

Juno in Season 1 & 2. 

Trying desperately to make his life something so that he will properly save Hyperion City and avenge Ben in a way, and redeem himself, or prove that he deserves to be damned, because “he got Ben killed”. Peter is doing kinda the same, and he needs to learn to not only let go, but redeem himself of that responsibility that was never really his, just like Juno in Monster’s Reflection.

From the way Juno is approaching this, (trying to track down the doctor/engineer/person Nureyev mentioned), it feels like he’s going to have to do a hard switch from trying to emphasize the bullshit of the executives and the “life-saving” tech, and instead he’ll actually need to confront how he dealt/deals with Ben and try to help Nureyev through letting Slip go, (i do not believe Slip is gonna live at all,) just like Juno surviving the Hanataba operation through mourning Ben and letting go of investigating his death, and leaving Hyperion.

I don’t think Slip is gonna come back, because I don’t think it will allow for Peter to have the development he’s been fighting for since the GET. Slip being miraculously revived would be strange? It’s a tragedy. It’s horrible, and it needs to stay that way I think, and I don’t think that would be a disservice to his character, if they let him have the final say through something like Juno/Ruby’s mind reading stuff. Then let them get justice for him, like taking down the entire corporation with the Crime Family? It’ll be fucking herculean for Nureyev to do regardless, like, goddamn. But I think that the point.

Nureyev has kinda pulled his Final Resting Place rn. Juno offers his love, saying that if Nureyev says he doesn’t love him and never wants to see him again, than he’ll leave and “...it’ll be like we never met.” Then Peter has that slight moment of weakness, visibly locks up his emotions, and leaves Juno in the dust. The next step, is leading Nureyev to let go of his responsibility, and to mourn the loss and pain of what he’s endured for 20 years, but that has to be on his OWN TERMS.

Having Juno by his side and understanding him might give him the strength to accept Juno and Rita’s help, and allow him to start the journey to let go of Slip and the debts he’s been victim too since he was a fucking child. Let him lead his life the way he sees fit, ya know?

If this show is about Juno’s recovery and healing from trauma, the ability to look at the most painful shit he’s been through, and be able to “shed that armor, and lay bare” for Nureyev, and help him do the same, I think would be a beautiful end for their stories. 

To learn to mourn and heal together.

[cvbullshit]

Now that Yandere Dev is dead in the water and his game is as deep in the sand as he is.. I, a random person on the internet, vote that we as a community take the concept of Yandere Simulator and make it into something better!

Because the concept IS decent, just the execution needs work... A lot of work.

Everyone should have their own ideas for it so Imma say my vague concept that I probably won't ever bring up again.

For my new take on the concept, for one, almost all the main characters are actually going to be adults. It's stated that they already are but that's bullshit that Yandere Dev clearly used to justify some in game bullshit, they're in fucking high school, maybe one could be 18, but not fucking all of them.

Second, I might replace Ayano with some demonic or otherworldly being that's not exactly in love with Taro but heavily obsessive and interested in him, possessive even. Because honestly, while the point of the story IS a Yandere school girl, that topic has been milked to absolute death and is prone to get boring as hell. Plus, it's my idea to rewrite the story, I can take it as far as I damn want!

If Ayano is a demonic being in this, possibly Taro could be in this occult team/club/gang/cult so that way Ayano has REASON to be interested and connected to him.

Taro, in this rewrite, is a complex person. He's a nice guy, lives alone with and takes care of his 13 year old sister after his dad ditched them and he kiiiinnnda murdered his mom for the cult he's in and because he just disliked her. Yeah, Taro ain't no goodie two shoes bland mf now! He may be nice, treats his sister well, and partly believes he's a good person but he's in a cult, is willing to murder people who he thinks deserves it or anyone who threatens to find out about his crimes, and he supports cannibalism, under the right circumstances though. He still comes off as, and kinda is, a nice guy who wants to help people in any way he can, real protective of his friends and whom he dubs as innocent. He's got the mentality of wanting to see half the world burn and half the world blossom, he wants all those he thinks are bad or beyond helping to suffer while he wants the ones he believes are innocent to live happy and healthy lives.

Him and Ayano's dynamic is something I'm still thinking about honestly, as while rewriting the other characters is somehow easy, rewriting Ayano is just a pain for me somehow, it's hard to really rewrite anything about her and I don't know why. I may keep her emotionless thing going on though, not sure.

For Taro's sister, she's a slightly bratty newly teen, is very attached to her brother as he's the only family she has left but isn't overly affectionate with him, if anything, she's the most bratty with him. She doesn't expect too much from him and doesn't believe she can pout or whine to get her way but slightly does so to be petty and because Taro doesn't really react negatively to it... Yet. She has no idea what happened to her mom, just views her as missing, and has no idea Taro is in a cult. To her, she's got a normal life, despite her mom going missing and viewing her dad as the biggest jackass alive.

Taro and Osana's relationship and meeting is pretty different in this, Osana won't be Taro's childhood friend, I'll be giving that to someone else, instead Osana is a girl living in an apartment building, cooped up in her apartment and barely interacting with the outside world. After a stalking and obsessive situation she was the victim of, leading to the death of her cat, she swore she'd never trust the world again. Her apartment is a mess as she has no friends, she cut off her family, and she has no one to even talk to, she could technically be counted as a slob but at least she keeps herself clean. She hates the world and especially has issues with men.

When she meets with Taro for the first time, she wants absolutely nothing to do with him, constantly is mean to him, insults him, ect. Taro would've not dealt with her after their first interaction but learns what a state she's in from the apartment building owner and vows to try to help her and be kind to her. Why? Because he feels bad for her... And because he accidentally ran over a cat so he feels the need to feel better about himself, using the excuse of trying to prove to the world or some higher force that he can still be a good person. So...

I will leave it there! My ramblings went off the rails and this is only a concept that I have no idea I'll even touch on again.