#this man fascinates me on a functional level

[clockworkreapers]

A specter in a web of lies

[silent-sanctum]

"Jotaro Kujo is Weak at His Core"

As a writer and avid character psycho-analyzer, I find this concept fascinating because I wholeheartedly agree with what OP has quoted from a "What opinion would get the community to do this? *Insert Johnny getting torn apart*" post.

Before I begin, I know some people will see this, misread it, and immediately say "lmao did we watch the same show? He's strong, badass, and can kick anyone's ass. Like do you know Star Platinum bro?". Trust me, I've seen the replies to this post and they said this same exact thing.

And I'm here to say that to said people, if you truly are not the illiterates I'd like to term you as, you'd take the time to realize that when we say "he's weak", we're not referring to his physical prowess because we know he's one of the strongest characters in the show.

If you don't like to, then you're just proving the accuracy of the last sentence: "You can't stand seeing your edgy badass image of Jotaro as vulnerable."

Pushing that aside, I'd like to expand on OP's opinion/headcanon with some depth to it and explain how exactly he's "weak" outside of being a skilled and strategic fighter.

I've learned that to be holistically healthy, one needs to develop and maintain all optimal functions of oneself: Physical, Emotional, Social, and Mental.

Obviously, Jotaro excels in the physical category. He's conventionally attractive, taller than the average male population, well-defined with a muscled build, fit as hell, street and book smart, and highly in tune with his environment making him adaptable in any circumstance.

He's "strong" in that aspect we all know at a superficial level.

However, we start to see the core problem once we strip this good-hearted man of his physical appeal:

Emotional? He believes he doesn't need to express them to others because why should he. He refuses to process them and instead keeps them behind a locked wall of stoicism and aloofness.

Social? Can't communicate to save his life. He's reclusive and doesn't know how to socialize outside of work. Guarded and skeptical around others. Too much of a workaholic to bother making new acquaintances (if he even knows how) outside of familial connections.

Mental? At 17, he went on a death crusade over Asia and the Middle East, almost died numerous times, and most likely lived with unresolved PTSD that carried over into adulthood, and further deteriorated his already poor social and emotional skills.

What do we have then? If we look past that powerful exterior of a man, we have inappropriate emotional expression, poor socialization, and constant fatigue of dealing with bullshit that relates to his trauma.

And this is what we mean by his "core": His mindset. His inner machinations. The soft spot his enemies would need to target in order to defeat or kill him, strategy-wise.

I. Emotional

We pretty much already know how this man handles emotions. And this may come off as "irrelevant" to the dudebros and the meme riders who believe "haha feelings are for pussies, I advocate for edgy autistic Florida man who don't give a fuck, elopes with dolphins, and berates women".

But believe it or not, he has them, just like any other human being on the planet. I said it once and I'll say it again: Not everyone will wear their heart on their sleeves. Some will convey emotions publicly with no issue, while others would prefer to keep to themselves.

But how does this contribute to him being "weak" at his core?

Essentially, it's similar to how someone with depression may behave (not everyone, some of them). One may appear friendly, sunny, and bubbly to everyone around them, not knowing they're actually suffering from a void that eats them up from the inside when alone.

For his case, it may look like he doesn't care about what happens to him and everyone around him, considering his nonchalant and aloof behavior, but beneath that cold exterior, he cares way too much for his family, friends, and allies. He feels too much to the point where once his allies are endangered, he would sacrifice his well-being without a second thought.

And that's an issue to him.

To him, emotions make him vulnerable and in his circumstance where enemies are actively hunting him down trying to find his weak spots, his emotions should be kept behind doors because he doesn't know how to regulate it on the outside so it's either total stoicism or lashing out.

I found someone saying this line about him that fits him so well: "He's a good person who doesn't know how to be a good person."

This is a man who means well and truly wants to help out of the goodness of his heart, but because of his inability to convey his emotions properly and is unable to pick up emotional cues, it can lead to shit tons of misunderstandings due to inappropriate tone & expression, and that can change how someone views him in the long run, thus leading to unintended deterioration of personal relationships (which contribute to the social aspect of his weakness).

I found a visual representation of what I just said above. Just to give context: The show is about a married couple who struggles to keep their relationship afloat, having to navigate through family politics, work & life balance, and miscommunications so they could find why they loved each other in the first place.

The emotionally-reserved character here with the poor communication skills is the girl. She's a CEO who just received a call, came out from work, and meets with her husband, asking him to accompany her to a doctor's appointment.

Observe how she thinks she views herself VS how others actually view her as.

Other's POV: Demanding, brash, and insensitive Her POV: Anxious, hesitant, and confused

Now remember what Araki had written about Jotaro? "He doesn't believe he must reveal his emotions to others because he thinks everyone can figure him out, leading him to be a victim of misunderstandings. Others think him to be cold-hearted, rebellious, and insensitive."

II. Social

With emotions as our base foundation to poor communication skills, this leads us to his weak socialization aspect.

In a recent quote reblog about how he was raised as a child may have contributed to his tough persona, I mentioned something about his need of "Security".

Growing up, it was mostly just him and his sweet pacifist mother Holly. Joseph couldn't have visited often (he hates Japan) and his dad is a busy musician with a packed schedule on tour. As a kid up to early adolescence, he was coddled by his mother and raised as a good student. Everything was going great for him.

[In popular headcanon] Once he passed puberty, the change to his Part 3 MC era began. People began picking fights with him and bullying him, and he began to see the world as a threat to his safety. Knowing his mother, he wouldn't rely on her to defend him against these dangers. She was too kind, too friendly, too loving for her to deal with the harsh life he now has to deal with.

So he had to be the stronger one for both of them. He already had the physical attributes for it, so why not use it to his advantage?

He got on the popular delinquent trend back in 80's Japan, integrated a couple of cool masculine-esque personalities as his own from his favorite Western and Crime media, and is then able to project this menacing aura everyone should be afraid of, to ward potential threats away from him and his mother.

But Mijin, how does this make him weak? What does this have to do with his need for security?

Think about it: The poor guy's already introverted, doesn't feel comfortable with his emotions that he can't express properly, and now he has to be skeptical with people around him because he realized how shitty society can be, which leads to intimidation that wards off not only potential foes but potential friends as well, making it look like he's anti-social.

On the outside, people are likely to think that he likes being this way when in reality, he seeks a reliable support system on which he can lean onto. Everyone with a sound mind wants that subconsciously because we are social creatures. It's part of our nature.

He's constantly fearful of his surroundings, growing even more vigilant as he ages, but he doesn't look afraid because he chooses to put on a brave face to challenge said fears instead of acknowledging he's scared. I read somewhere in an ask that's not mine that in the manga, some panels actually depict Jotaro shaking/trembling in a mix of fear and adrenaline during some of his fights.

He wants to be around people who he can trust. People who he can lower his defenses with. People who are capable of protecting him just as he is capable of protecting them. People who can face his intimidating aura and challenge it to stand on equal grounds with him or to remind him of his place when he goes too far with certain things. Hence, why he seems comfortable being with the Crusaders.

For once, he wants to feel safe.

To not feel like he has to be this strong pillar of hope that everyone depends on.

To be someone being protected, instead of the other way around where he was always the strong protector. He wants a life of normalcy where he can just be a marine biologist and a professor with a loving family he can come home to.

But that can't happen. The inner circle of friends he counted on is either dead or far away, leaving him even more fearful of the world around him. This results in even more guarded skepticism, always watchful of who's an enemy Stand user and what their Stand could do. Because of his cautious nature, this leads to minimized socialization with others.

With little to no solid support system he can count on, he has no one he feels completely secure with because he believes danger will always come to hurt and/or kill those near him. He doesn't want to burden others with the issues & responsibilities of dealing with Stand users. He wants them to live the normal life he could no longer have.

He doesn't trust in the capabilities of his loved ones when it comes to defending themselves against the amount of potential threats and dangers he has faced, and yet he cares about them dearly. So, he commits to what seems to be the most practical solution in his mind: Self-Isolation.

To be a distant beacon where danger is attracted to and away from those dear to him.

(As we see in the beginning of Part 3 where he willingly locks himself in jail as soon as he sees himself as the threat, and in Part 6 where he stays away from his family once he realizes his enemies were targeting him).

"Your family is your weakness."

All this leads him to become what Araki always envisioned him to be: A lone hero.

III. Mental

Now onto the last part, this part of the essay will focus more on the popular headcanon the community has made about him: "Jotaro has PTSD."

Considering what he's been through at only 17, it would be no surprise that he'd acquired major trauma after those 50 days. Think about it- he gets injured more times than he can count, almost dies numerous times, sees his grandfather get "killed" in front of him, and all this combined with the constant reminder that his mother's life is also on a time limit. A failure to kill DIO meant a failure to save Holly.

The amount of pressure and risk he had to endure for her (and there will still be people who adamantly believe that he hated Holly because he said "bitch" to her twice in the first two episodes).

Now, remember when I said about him having this mentality of over-independence when dealing with stressors? It was still manageable during Stardust Crusaders, but because of what had transpired in Cairo, that mindset carries on to the rest of his adulthood, more so if we consider that he most likely didn't get any therapy or treatment for his trauma.

It might be normal for a teenager to hold onto this stubborn notion of "I can do this by myself" and be casual about it, but with trauma now involved, that notion warps into a persisting belief of "by doing this myself, no one else will get hurt" (i.e. refusing help, doing solo fieldwork, self-isolation).

But Mijin, you keep saying "mentality" this, "mindset" that. What are you talking about?

There's an old Tumblr post I found that talks specifically about this in great detail, but to put it shortly: Jotaro has always wanted to do things by himself because he believes that not only will the task be done with, there would be no one else involved with it, making it better for him to cope mentally if ever shit hits the fan (tying back to poor emotional expression and insecurity in bonds).

If any injuries were to be inflicted, he would be the one to receive them, and he alone, because who knows how he'll react and/or cope when his allies are harmed instead of him over and over again? (refer to the trauma of Jotaro surviving Cairo while the majority of the team that went with him died a.k.a "survivor's guilt")

(Also, refer to how he had exhibited great distress when Jolyne was about to be struck by a rain of knives that Pucci sent)

This might also be the reason why he's more self-sacrificial as an adult: Will be the bait during the rat episode instead of Josuke, takes the brunt of Sheer Heart Attack's explosion to spare Koichi, dives straight onto a path of bullets to save Jolyne, etc.

The only possible solution so he could snap out of that belief he holds on to is that strong, reliable support system he internally needs. People who can help him without sustaining fatal injuries in the process [social]. People who he can approach to release any pent-up frustrations and inner conflicts [emotional].

If he had found those people, then he might have been able to deal and/or cope with his trauma better instead of letting it linger and change his outlook in life [mental].

But we all know how his life went in canon. One moment he's a kid playing ball with his mother, then in his last, he dies by having his head bisected by a time-altering Stand.

Jotaro is a person with a gold heart and a rough exterior. Someone who wants to help and protect his loved ones from the unpredictability of the world the best that he can. But even then, his best wasn't enough. His fear was masked with an air of strength and capability, perhaps as compensation for everything else he lacked:

Adequate processing of emotions.

Stable connection with familial, platonic, and romantic bonds.

A sound mindset that stems from effective coping for his PTSD.

We could only hope in headcanon land that he had a better chance at life in the Ireneverse where he finally could develop his inner core better and get that long-deserved break he had always wanted.

[feverdreamjohnny]

The Epitaph of Anything Goes

I decided that this morning I would talk about The Museum of Anything Goes and the subject of lost media.

For the uninitiated, The Museum of Anything Goes is an obscure "game" released in 1995 by Wayzata Technologies, a company that is so far under the radar that I was unable to find any useful information about it outside of TMoAG.

All I could uncover is that they published a few multimedia projects (which are essentially lost now) alongside some asset discs (clipart, SFX, etc.). That's it.

The brains behind Wayzata are even more difficult to locate these days: there are only two main names credited inside of TMoAG - Michael Markowski and Maxwell S. Robertson.

The game alleges that Michael and Maxwell are well known in the art world, but any additional information about the duo is scarce beyond the confines of the museum. Attempting to search for either name online turns up plenty of rabbit holes - but none of them have anything to do with the Michael and Maxwell responsible for TMoAG.

This is particularly fascinating because it essentially means that TMoAG is the only accessible record of their lives. Before we dig any deeper into that statement, let me step back and actually address what this game is.

The Museum of Anything Goes is, by definition, a virtual art museum. Functionally it's a prerendered point-and-click adventure game where you can explore a bunch of multimedia exhibits that give the surface-level impression of a children's edutainment game, but once you start exploring further it reveals a side that firmly plants the game's feet into a haze of substance abuse and surreal humor.

Many exhibits are essentially just toying around with the astonishing new powers of CD-ROM. Everything has to make noise. Everything has to spin and flitter around. There's an air of genuine excitement for the medium, and I can't help but find it extremely charming.

The game also functions as a scrapbook, filled to the brim with photos of random trips to the zoo and snow-mobile rides with friends. At one point we even get insight into something as specific as Michael's one-year job as a tutor at a Chicago middle school, where he talks about how it opened his eyes to how poorly funded and mismanaged the school system is.

It's simultaneously quaint and chilling to see so much personal history packed into a world doomed to obscurity. As I explore the deeper parts of the museum, I contemplate if the creators are still alive today. It's a bit morbid, but imagine that - you create a single obscure game with your friend and it's all the world can see. TMoAG is currently the only surviving piece that gives any insight into who these two men were.

While many exhibits are lighthearted or nonsensical, there are occasional moments where the game dips into the eerie.

One exhibit has the player kill a man by dropping him from the sky, and after burying him you open the coffin to a video of a rotting pig carcass being put into an incinerator.

Other exhibits just feature simple 3D renders shifting around a dark screen while haunting groans play in the background.

While I would never refer to the game as "scary," its darker moments combined with the occasional mature subject matter definitely begs the question: Who is this game for?

You have to remember that this game came out long before the concept of "alt-games" had become codified in the digital space. Sure, unconventional digital art had been around before the advent of 256 colors, but TMoAG was being sold on disk as a game! It came out 2 years after DOOM hit shelves!

The trend of using the PC for entertainment was certainly on the upswing around that time, but It's not like TMoAG had a massive audience to find a niche in. With its mature themes it certainly wasn't suited for the kids market either, so who was it for?

At the end of the day, it's a moot question. We already know the target audience for The Museum of Anything Goes: Nobody. It doesn't have an audience because by its nature, TMoAG wasn't being made FOR someone, it was being made BY someone. It's a raw, unfiltered form of personal expression.

I think games like these are pivotal, because they question why people assume a game has to exist for the sake of being a consumable product. TMoAG certainly has the shape of a product: it features an intro cutscene, it has a tutorial, it features intuitive UX, it even has a map! These are all features that are solely integrated to provide comfort to an end-user. But once you actually wander around the museum for a bit, you realize how bizarrely its packaging fits its contents.

I think TMoAG is criminally underrated. It's not because its core content contains some earth-shaking truth, it's because the game defied all odds and cheated death.

How many thousands of other personal projects were deemed a little "too exotic" to be archived? How much history was lost these past 40 years as the digital space evolved and ate its old skin?

God knows how many other TMoAGs we'll never learn about because they weren't lucky enough to be preserved.

The Museum of Anything Goes isn't just some nonsensical art piece, it's a grave marker for so much lost media. Its existence is a reminder that some people's lives were fossilized, then macerated into nothing because a construction company built a skyscraper over them. The only evidence we have of those other games existing is this little fossil that somehow slipped out from under the skyscraper unscathed.

Even though so much has been lost, TMoAG survives as an epitaph.

[yangsharperavery]

my carmy/sydney related thoughts on season 2

i think when digesting this show, it's done more easily when we see who carmy and sydney are as people and how they bring that beingness to their dynamic.

it's interesting to see the takes from people who are troubled by what they saw in this season in terms of their relationship.

i personally thought there was so much fascinating groundwork that was laid.

we knew when molly gordon was cast they were likely trying to introduce a love interest for carmy.

i was not shocked, i was not surprised. i literally expected it.

doesn't mean i wasn't rolling my eyes but i was well aware of what function she would play within the narrative.

but the writing is so sharp that there are a million subtle elements of carmy's character, and what we know about him up to this point, including what was illuminated by the christmas episode.

let's first talk about carmy's choices and behavior where it relates to claire vs sydney and the restaurant.

we know that carmy is awkward, isn't incredibly relationally experienced and has sacrificed everything for his career and specific level of skill.

he'd just been ruminating on expanding his experiences as expressed in the al-anon meeting.

we know this man is intensely grief-stricken and also that he's battling his own mental health.

we also know he's literally been bred from chaos and emotional tumult.

even him not going to his own brother's funeral makes so much sense after that christmas episode.

he couldn't stand to witness what that type of grief had done to his already deteriorating mother.

so he's trying to conceptualize fun.

notice he wasn't trying to conceptualize love or relationships or a partner.

it was literally presented and integrated as fun.

so he runs into this girl he used to a have a crush on and even then, he's not sold because he knows himself, he knows his priorities, his propensities toward self sabotage, etc so he gives her a wrong number.

yet she persists.

so to me, this may seem like a sign to him to give this a chance, do some exterior exploration of something outside of the kitchen and outside of his career and outside of his own neurosis.

so he's just going with the flow. trying to be "normal". not really knowing the content or context of anything. another reason why he wasn't even calling claire his girlfriend.

claire even brings up the fact that they'd hung out so much but didn't actually talk.

which is SPOT on because the audience only actually ever sees them talking about their careers or what they were like as kids/teenagers.

but you know who carmy DOES talk to? hmm, more on that later.

so claire is symbolic of this thing that was pleasant when he was younger, when he was less of this grown conglomerate of anxiety and disarray and sorrow. a part of him that's separate from all of his current worry and fixations and dysregulation.

him saying he loves her so much and that he thinks she's so great actually rings hollow because we, the audience, didn't actually get to see when and where that level of specific emotion or intensity occurred.

so off rip i don't believe him. i don't think about it in the context of if or when he and sydney explore anything, because it feels patently untrue to me.

and completely separate from sydney.

it's not earned. it's not rooted. it's not tacitly valid.

it's fine. it's a good time. it's some laughs and conversation and sex and a nice, normal person he has fond, nostalgic memories of.

and i think it's written that way on purpose!

so him professing this to other people feels like this way to continue digging a hole of his own distraction, his absence, his lack of attention to detail.

i completely understand the frustration that many feel about interpreting this like carmy was essentially choosing claire over sydney.

carmy was trying to have an unfamiliar and different experience and didn't have the depth perception, the self awareness and the internal regulation to recognize he was doing it to the detriment of something so deeply and irrevocably important to him.

as soon as sydney brought it up, he got defensive but then moments later recognized his errors and apologized.

she told him she didn't want to share his attention.

he told her she was absolutely correct and that she deserved his full focus.

what's fascinating about this part is they aren't even explicitly talking about the restaurant.

she says "me" and "i", he says "you".

uh. wow.

now even in the context of JUST the restaurant this is saying ALOT here.

him instantly apologizing and agreeing with her requests means a substantial amount.

carmy isn't an ass because he stood sydney up for the palate cleanser. or even because he went absent when he shouldn't have.

carmy is deeply troubled and wounded and suffering and he was grappling for something else to feel or do or think about besides what he's ALWAYS thought about and done and fixated on.

that's why he's unreliable, that's why he's haphazard and emotionally or energetically messy. he's coping.

that's why he knows he makes mistakes all the time. because he feels like he's a screwup in a lot of specific ways in his life so he's used to it.

he's not being malicious or cruel or even unkind to sydney.

and this isn't an excuse. it's a reason. it's what all the information we have about him up to this point is providing us.

and yes, his timing is godawful.

but he trusts this person so implicitly because he knows how talented and capable she is.

carmy does not know HOW to be a partner, of any kind. where would he have learned that? where would that have been modeled for him?

"this is what you wanted originally and i'm giving it to you."

so let's transpose the way carmy and claire are presented with how carmy and sydney are together.

he literally can't WAIT to hear what sydney has to say. about literally anything.

at any given time.

"say more please."

all he wants to do is listen to her talk. he wants to know everything about her. the personal stuff too, almost especially.

he listens to her so closely. in the first or second episode she loses her train of thought and he repeats everything she just said.

i don't even think it was restaurant related.

he brings up her mother not once, but twice.

he feels like he should have known that sydney lost her.

he wants to pour into and believe in her because he does. he already does.

he's ready to apologize to her because he knows what a mess he can be and often is.

he knows what his anger can do. he knows how he was conditioned and raised in the industry and he doesn't want that at all for her, least of all from him.

especially after she walked out last season.

he's hyperaware of it. he calms down instantly both times she does the sign for sorry that HE taught her.

he has this propulsion to NEED to know what's happening with her in the very moment something occurs.

he did it last season when she quit on the spot and he kept trying to talk to her when she was leaving.

he did it this season when she was frustrated and trying to say goodnight after carmy was actively telling everyone goodnight and to go home, yet he tried to talk to her when she was leaving.

"what?"

"i'm saying goodnight."

he was repeatedly ushering everyone out but because of the look on her face, carmy's like wait, "what's that about, what's happening?"

he can't stand it!

same with them outside last season when he brought her food and asked what was wrong.

if something is up with her, he reacts immediately.

if she's peeved, he wants to know why right away, he wants to know what to do to make it better, how to approach it, what to say, he goes out in search of that information in the moment it's happening.

sydney is his soft place.

he feels very anchored and tethered to her and i believe she feels the same with him.

sydney is his respite. his peace. the thought of her literally calms and stills him.

her being energetically seats him.

we saw it penetrate his seismic and consistent panic in real time.

that was clearly displayed for all of us to witness.

he doesn't want to be cruel or unkind or anything other than present and communicative with her.

i'd venture to say he actually doesn't want anything more than that, besides maybe the restaurant to succeed.

now sydney is in her "i have something to prove" era.

she is so driven and so determined but she's also a realist and is inundated and surrounded by all this proof that what she's doing may be foolhardy.

at the very least, it's incredibly risky. it's a jump.

and someone deeply ambitious and creative and tuned in and focused like sydney has such fear of failure.

because she knows what it often means for someone like her.

that's why she overextends herself so continuously.

she's often had to and she thinks it gets her closer to the opposite of failure.

she was not only aware of the gaps carmy's absence was leaving but also planning this tasting menu with a MILLION things on it because something was gonna be the star because it MUST.

and i think the carmy absence flares a bit of abandonment as well, like he's left her in a lurch.

she has feelings about that.

she finds out why he did, and TRIES not to have feelings about that.

that's confusing and she's already beyond stressed out so she tries to stuff it.

her success is so tied to her identity because she's worked so hard to get where she is and still feels like she's not where she wants to be.

so she wrestles with worthiness and worry and the financial climate of affability for restaurants. she's riddled with what if she can't hack it?

she has evidence of that being true in the past.

she has evidence of her past failures and those are what keep her up at night, not the infinite possibilities of her future successes.

and that's also why she picked carmy.

because she was always going to pick the best.

she was always going to follow the career and moves of the standout in the industry.

of the person that made the best meal she's ever had.

so if he's anal retentive or jumpy or doesn't call about changing the structural elements of their restaurant while it's happening, she deals with it because she picked him.

she chose him. and then he chose her.

(and then she lightweight chose him again when she came back)

so that's why when they're talking he so often checks in by looking her in the face, scanning her expression. he instantly picks up on something being off or wrong or him being "shitty".

or why when they're under a damn table, despite being peeved or annoyed with his disappearing acts, she lets out the most vulnerable, softest admissions about the perceived necessity of her contribution and future failure.

or why he responds with "i couldn't do it without you" so instantly, so rapidly, it's like it's etched in him. that's the quickest response he'd given to anything she said to him the entire season, she barely got the words fully out before he was verbally soothing her.

then he STAMPS this by saying "i wouldn't WANT to do this without you."

there was such an unexpectedly, viscerally aching quality to that exchange.

it's honestly searing.

i'm sorry are these wedding vows or are we talking about opening a damn restaurant?

or the way he says "you love taking care of people" to her when she talks about making sugar food.

that's also a stellar mirrored moment because i've seen a few people, i believe @eatandsleepwell is one, talk a lot about how that's one of carmy's main drivers and internal tenants.

they see so much of themselves in each other.

the buried parts, the unknown parts, the odd parts.

the parts they wanna work on. the parts they wanna exalt.

they are so similar. they are also quite different.

they have reflected one another in the narrative since s1 ep1.

they exist so flawlessly within the others interstices.

she wordlessly hands him pepto for his stomach.

he tells her he won't let her fail.

the pulsing undercurrent of sydney and carmy is pretty fucking palpable.

there's people on social media who weren't convinced or didn't ship them last season that have suddenly completely seen the vision.

whether the writers actually go there or not remains to be seen.

i don't necessarily trust that they will or won't to be honest because i know there are so many moving pieces and variables and factors.

ships get bypassed and messed up all the time.

i don't watch any shows for ship guarantees but i know how writer's rooms work.

i'd venture to bet that at least 1/3 of that room DOES have an interest in seeing something happen between carmy and sydney, (maybe even 1/2).

or at the very least the option to have it explored.

different people write different episodes, the showrunner/creator can scratch or add whatever.

scripts are TIRELESSLY edited and shortened.

yet there is alot that makes the final cut that points to the potent carmy and sydney marrow.

him giving her the captain reigns before they served for the first time, her saying 'let it rip'.

to me, sydney walked into that failing sandwich shop with a mission that day, they locked eyes and immediately fused.

something happened to the both of them in that moment and they largely don't even realize or can adequately reckon with its magnitude yet.

[commodorez]

What is the appeal of vintage computers to you? Is it the vintage video games or is it the programs? If so, what kind of programs do you like to run on them?

Fair warning, we're talking about a subject I've been passionate about for most of my life, so this will take a minute. The answer ties into how I discovered the hobby, so we'll start with a few highlights:

I played old video games starting when I was 9 or 10.

I became fascinated with older icons buried within Windows.

Tried to play my first video game (War Eagles) again at age 11, learned about the hardware and software requirements being way different than anything I had available (a Pentium III-era Celeron running Windows ME)

I was given a Commodore 1541 by a family friend at age ~12.

Watched a documentary about the history of computers that filled in the gaps between vague mentions of ENIAC and punch cards, and DOS/Windows machines (age 13).

Read through OLD-COMPUTERS.COM for the entire summer immediately after that.

Got my first Commodore 64 at age 14.

I mostly fell into the hobby because I wanted to play old video games, but ended up not finding a ton of stuff that I really wanted to play. Instead, the process of using the machines, trying the operating system, appreciating the aesthetic, the functional design choices of the user experience became the greater experience. Oh, and fixing them.

Then I started installing operating systems on some DOS machines, or playing with odd peripherals, and customizing hardware to my needs. Oh, and programming! Mostly in BASIC on 8-bit hardware, but tinkering with what each computer could do is just so fascinating to me. I'm in control, and there isn't much of anything between what I write and the hardware carrying it out (especially on pre-Windows machines)! No obfuscation layers, run-times, .dlls, etc. Regardless of the system, BASIC is always a first choice for me. Nova, Ohio Scientific, Commodore, etc. I usually try to see what I can do with the available BASIC dialect and hardware. I also tend to find a game or two to try, especially modern homebrew Commodore games because that community is always creating something new. PC stuff I focus more on pre-made software of the era.

Just to name a few examples from a variety of systems: Tetris, terminal emulators, Command & Conquer titles, screen savers, War Eagles, Continuum, video capture software, Atomic Bomberman, demos, LEGO Island, Bejeweled clones, Commander Keen 1-3, lunar lander, Galaxian, sinewave displays, 2048, Pacman, mandelbrot sets, war dialers, paint -- I could keep going.

Changing gears, I find it funny how often elders outside of the vintage computing community would talk about the era I'm interested in (60s-early 90s). [spoken with Mr. Regular's old man voice]: "Well, computers used to be big as a room! And we used punch cards, and COBOL!" I didn't know what any of that meant, and when pressed for technical detail they couldn't tell you anything substantial. Nobody conveyed any specifics beyond "that's what we used!"

I noticed that gaps remained in how that history was presented to me, even when university-level computer science and history professors were engaged on the subject. I had to go find it on my own. History is written by the victors, yeah? When was the last time a mainstream documentary or period piece focused on someone other than an Apple or Microsoft employee? Well, in this case, you can sidestep all that and see it for yourself if you know where to look.

Experiencing the history first hand to really convey how computers got from point A to B all the way down to Z is enlightening. What's cool is that unlike so many other fields of history, it's near enough in time that we can engage with people who were there, or better yet, made it happen! Why do you think I like going to vintage computer festivals?

We can see the missteps, the dead-ends, the clunkiness, the forgotten gems and lost paradigms, hopefully with context of why it happened. For the things we can't find more information on, when or documentation and perspectives are limited, sometimes we have to resort to digital archeology, and reverse engineering practices to save data, fix machines, and learn how they work. The greater arc of computer history fascinates me, and I intend to learn about it by fixing and using the computers that exemplify it best, and sharing that passion with others who might enjoy it.

[applebinnie]

▶︎˗ˏˋ zom-baby >< ´ˎ˗

𖦹 prologue 𖦹 ▶︎next part

ᯤ zombie!Anton ᯤ

→ zombies were always known as brutal, vile creatures. You always thought they were gross and scary, especially having to instantly pulverize every zombie that comes your way can be sickening to even think of. But when you were greeted by an unwanted visitor, it didn't seem too bad. After all, what could go so wrong with a girl and a zombie?

warnings: mention of monsters (zombies!), I'm vv mid at writing and it's my first time writing in eng so please reduce your expectations to ground level 😭

💭: hi gais!! the idea came to me while I was watching the odd family and I was debating whether I should make this inspired by tof or disney's zombies bcs I LOVE both films but I decided to write this one first :') also, this isn't really a significant part, i jst dk how to begin this series so you can skip to part 1. But if you want to know more about the mc (you!) then definitely recommend reading this first!

☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎

What if the world was to plunge to the bottom, finally succumbing to the deadly virus that turns human beings into brainless, brutal, flesh eating monsters. such scenarios kept yo up at night. The idea of a dead man rising to their grave just to hunt and feed on functioning human brains has always terrified you. you always thought of the living conditions, the lack of food, water, and all that. but along with the concept of zombies is the concept of a half-zombie. They are the undead, or atleast half-dead. as you grew up, with your fear of zombies came a strange fascination to it.

Among the plethora of z-films that featured blood baths and a ferrocious amount of unwanted bites to the head, there were light, comedic z-films with a common trope: Romance.

It usually features a half-zombie, or a half-dead. Rare species of the undead that have the ability to recognize humans and restrain their appetite. You always wondered what their love interest saw in them, even thinking of giving them a kiss after seeing them mutilate and bite someone's limbs off. It was bizarre, but perhaps it's the irony of the situation that made you feel less scared of them. Zombies are gross, gooey creatures with not a single coherent thought, why would you even think of falling in love with one?

You slowly close your laptop after finishing all the work, and decided to lay back and find a nice show to watch. You grab on to your blanket, and click on a light, relaxing show. Growing up with a fascination for monster macabre can be mind-twisting, so consuming light and fun media once in while is refreshing. You were watching a film where a magic powder dust from a power petal turns any person who inhales it into a cat. It was sort of like an alarming potential apocalypse if you squint, but it happened only within the borders of a small town, unnoticed by the world. You think back, what if something like that were to happen in the real world? Who would be the first ones to notice? For sure it would be those who have keen eyes and a strong intuition, like the film's hero. But then again, there is no way something like that could happen in real life.

You are moving soon, to a place much more peaceful than where you are now, perhaps you can clear your mind, free from unwanted thoughts, or even more—unwanted memories.

▶︎next part

☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎

rlly shitty start but idk how to begin this piece (╥_╥) part 1 is much much more coherent than this, but I'm still posting this either way just because raghraghragh if you did read this sorry this took so long :( and thank you smsmsm for reading ily guys so much mwap mwap mwap (´ ε ` ) - val 🧸

[gallusrostromegalus]

oh my god I am frothing at the mouth PLEASE tell us about how Unohana is SO WEIRD ACTUALLY

(her reveal is my favorite thing in the whole series and I was obsessed with Bleach for a good long time)

I love Unohana. She's magnificently insane and deliciously fun to write so far.

My take on AEIWAM Unohana is that fundamentally, she just wants to be happy.

Oh, that doesn't sound too nuts. I hear you say.

Yeah, but I also headcanon that she has ADHD. We joke a lot about it on this site, but if you have the good fortune to have functioning dopamine factories, allow me to explain the worst part of it, for me.

There's no passive happiness.

Most people, as I understand it, if left to their own devices without undue stressors like capitalism or any particular stimulation, tend to be able to feel pretty okay most of the time. Which fascinates me because if I am left alone without undue stressors but no stimulation, my malfunctioning dopamine factories will shut down and I will rapidly develop a terrible black depression and paranoia that life is cruel and I will never experience happiness again and also my appetite vanishes and sleep cycle collapses and I will end up mentally and physically distraught, sometimes in less than an hour.

So I've always got to be doing something, or The Horrors get me.

So imagine Unohana, and with a brain that wants to die if she gets bored... living in fantasy magical ancient japan. Not much to do, out in the early days of the soul society, besides being attatcked by monsters, or participating in warfare, or starving to death. the first two, at least, get the blood pumping, but the first is difficult to come by regularly, so as a young woman, the most interesting thing that happens to her on the regular is Mortal Combat.

And how exciting it is! Adrenaline! Dopamine! And on the rare occasions she meets a fellow combat enthusiast, she also gets one of the best things about ADHD- Recognition Responsive Euphoria. You know that great feeling you get at Con or meeting another person with your special interest and you guys just VIBE and it feels like you've been best friends for life in less than five minutes? Yeah, apparently Non-ADHD people don't get that.

So naturally, she develops her skill in combat, not in pursuit of Honor or The Art or something nebulous like, that, but in the simple Pursuit of Happiness. She gets very good at it, and a lot of people die.

But she starts getting... too good at it. The fights don't last, there's nobody willing- let alone able, to meet her on her level and the previous joy she felt fades and fades until she is once again left in the darkness.

Then, a Miracle happens! Some punk stabs her in the lung :)

Man, what an evening for her. Kills a hundred men with barely a stroke and there's no more joy in the world for her when suddenly some barely-legal scarecrow looking bastard with a raggedy sword he pulled out of someone else's corpse appears at the top of the pile of bodies and then goes Ape. Fucking. Shit. on her.

It's the most fun she's had in ages! He's strong and fast and his moves are inefficient but delightfully unpredictable and by the GODS the STAMINA! Alright, she might be 1,000 years his senior but in the soul society age really is just a number and she can't help but be charmed.

So she flirts back by nearly cutting his face off. This DELIGHTS him!

And there it is again, that sudden feeling of intimacy between like-minded individuals, only these two ships aren't passing in the night, there' here to make Titanic 2: Electric Boogaloo. They make eye contact, and know-they're just like me.

True Love is a wonderful thing.

It's also a great opportunity for a surprise thrust and she only sort of manages to block it, and despite the feeling of blood pooling in her lung, she returns the blow full across his chest.

She staggers back, coughing.

He, miraculously, sits up, coughing. He won't die if he can crawl off somewhere to lick his wounds, but he can't continue the fight either.

She stands up, teeth gritted through the pain, and sheathes Minazuki. "What's your name?" She asks. "So I may find you to fight again."

"Don't have one." he wheezes. "But I'll never forget yours."

She's had men spit that as a threat to her before. It sounds very different as a declaration of love.

"Yachiru." she says, trying to not cough up blood. "Unohana Yachiru."

*

A Year later, there's a problem.

Soul Society has a bit of a problem with lungs. They can make entire fake bodies for shinigami to travel the living world, but individual organs, especially lungs... never seem to transplant well. Perhaps it's the fact they're already dead.

Her left lung is "healed" in the sense that it no longer has extraneous holes in it, but... Godsdammit, she still has all the power but none of the stamina. Barely 10 minutes into a fight and she's wheezing worse than The Old Man. 20 minutes and her hands are starting to shake and she's seeing spots in her eyes because she can't breathe well enough to keep the oxygen in her veins. Her fights usually last seconds so functionally she's still one of the most powerful people in the afterlife but it's a far cry from where she was before.

She can no longer be the 11th division's Kenpachi. Hell, she can no longer be the woman she was before.

"Unless you figure out some new medical miracles, this is as healed as it's going to get." Explains the chief medical officer after yet another frustrating checkup.

"...If that's what it takes." She decides.

The next morning she re-enrolls in the Shinigami Academy, under the name Unohana Retsu. The sole change she makes to her appearence is to braid her hair down the front of her chest because people WILL ask about the scar, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's letting down that warrior with no name.

Either she needs to learn how to get back to his level, or find a new rival and learn to heal them to actually last the 20 minutes she has, or she'll die.

She studies.

To her vast surprise, bodies are actually fascinating. She'd previously seen that there were lots of interesting organs inside people but now learning what they are and how they work and the fact that the human body is already astonishingly death-resistant compared to most animals AND a carefully balanced meat sculpture minutes away from catastrophic failure at all times delights. She learns about the extreme ways humans can survive and the bizarrely mundane ways they can die, and she starts to form an idea- not an image, not a philosophy per se- but a working theory of how to keep someone alive and moving for as long and far as they will go, and what they need to stay upright.

This idea shines so brightly that it can keep that terrible darkness away.

The century practically flies by, and one night she stays up manually pumping the mechanism on a device used to keep the also-failing lungs of a young boy going after the power goes out. He's been blessed by A God that he's lived as long as he has, but even Gods can fuck up sometimes and she effectively has to breathe for him for twelve hours until the God gets its shit back together and he can breathe under his own power again.

"Hell of a fight you put in, keeping him alive." says one of her colleagues, collapsing beside her out in the 4th division medical garden where all the doctors go to smoke.

Retsu slowly exhales the smoke, fatigued but still coming down from the high of success. She cocks her head. Her body aches and her mind races and her heart thrills, just like- "I guess it was. " she realizes. "Interesting fight, going 12 hours in the ring with a dying child and winning because he walked away at the end." She laughs, and hands him the cigarette to share.

"You weirdo." he colleague laughs. He's far too young to remember when she was Yachiru. Most of them are these days, and it's a weird sort of peaceful anonymity and personal joke. "You weren't fighting the kid. If we were actually allowed to fight patients, I'd've stabbed the Kuchki hypochondriac decades ago." he grumbles, taking his own drag.

She snorts. "Who was I fighting then?"

"Death?" smoke billows out as he laughs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She freezes. Oh. Oh. That's why she likes this so much. She's gone from fighting mere men to the one opponent she knows she can win battles with, but never the war, and who will defeat her personally someday.

"Are. Are you crying?" he asks, a little worried.

"I- yes." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "I just fell in love all over again."

"Ouch." he nods sympathetically, offering her the cigarette back. "Who with?"

"Death's own Angel, apparently." She giggles, feeling positively prepubescent with this crush.

And thus she goes on, for centuries, learning everything there is to know about bodies and minds and how the two keep each other going and the ways she can help. She gets very good at it, and a many more people do not die.

But there is a special, secret place in her heart for that nameless warrior that defeated her in battle, and made her stronger than every before.

*

Nearly 1,000 years after she stopped being Kenpachi, she is supervising the annual "see if you can kill the captain" tournament. Her colleague Kaname is there, a walking anxiety disorder with undoubtedly real but strangely hard to diagnose phantom pains, but he's still easily in her top 10 coworkers of all time because he made her a new medical record filing system so functional they were actually able to recataloge three millennia of medical records into a usable format in under a decade. He can come twitching into her office any time he likes, especially if it gets her that mass vaccination process for the Rukongai he's been biting The Old Man's heels for.

Then

as suddenly as he had appeared the first time,

He's back.

He's older now and larger, having matured into a spectacular bastard, but there's no mistaking that cutting edge on his reiatsu (which, oh, that has gotten much, much stronger since last time) or that scar running down his face as he turns from where he had just cleft the previous Kenpachi in twain, and stares out into the crowd in the shower of blood, challenging anyone to do something about it. Hell, even when Yamamoto appears to congratulate him on his promotion, Death's own angel's first reaction is to turn to fight the old man without hesitation.

He then promptly picks three different fights with four captains in under five minutes, tells Yamamoto to shove the job up his ass, imply he's had a WILD collection of vocations in the last millennium and furthermore, he has to get home to his daughter.

...Named Yachiru.

Hilariously, Unohana is only having the second weirdest time about this here, because Kaname and Kenpachi are, somehow, even weirder than she is.

[writing-whump]

Waking up

Isaiah wakes up after the operation. Mention of open chest wound, though not too detailed. Emeto down below.

Matthew sat down on the chair. Then got up just as quickly, barely stopping himself from pacing.

Seline sat straight on the other side, hands next to Isaiah's. She knew he had the operation, she was wrapping her head around the heart problems...but seeing it, seeing him like this, pale, unresponsive, with sterile thin gauze covering the long opening wound in the center of his chest...a gaping long line, like a bloody chasm-

Matthew gulped down audibly, gaze jumping from one corner of the room to the other.

Seline gave him an angry look. "You can't throw up here. If you can't stand it, go away."

Matthew flinched. He flinched almost everytime she spoke to him since the first talk with the doctor.

"No. I-I can take it." The red-haired man set his jaw resolutely, glaring at the opposite wall. After a minute he dared to flick his gaze towards Isaiah again. Like he was building up a tolerance to that sight.

Seline let out a tiny sigh. On some level she relized she was pretty hard on him. Espcially now, when they had bigger problems. But something about her seething resentment towards Matthew held her together. It was an easier emotion to focus on than the breath-taking sense of betrayal or stomach-clenching fear for Isaiah.

Or the horrible guilt in the back of her neck, like pressure gathering that told her this was all her damn fault for not noticing on her own.

For not being close enough, present enough to witness this, to help, to be someone they wanted help from.

Matthew was back on the chair, squirming on it. He braced his elbows on the matrass next to Isaiah taking slow measured breaths through his mouth.

Shouldn't blood be an easier sight for wolves?

Seline didn't know why it didn't bother her that much. There was more of a fascinated distant mortification that was a hole to Isaiah's inner organs, only with a bit of sterile gauze to protect it. She had to actively force herself to look away, cause it kept dragging her eyes towards it like a magnet.

Time lost all its meaning. Bodily functions didn't have any effect on them. There was no way either of them could eat or sleep or leave, and ignoring any tiredness in face of the tension in her back or Matthew's gritted teeth was easy.

This was the most alert emergency mode and it would probably crush them later. But right now the adrenaline was like 10 coffees in their veins.

So Seline had no idea how much time actually passed—it could have been a few minutes or two hours—when Isaiah started shifting around on the bed.

A soft groan escaped him and his eyes fluttered for a minute as he fought the grogginess.

Seline and Matt were both standing by that point, each from one side, breaths held back.

"Isaiah?" Seline called out softly.

Isaiah's face scrunched up, but his eyes finally opened. "Hmm? Where..." He looked to her, then to Matthew, scanning the room in confusion.

His eyes drifted downwards to his chest, the hospital gown, the blanket draped over him, several tubes and IVs sticking out of his hands.

The machine he was hooked to started beeping immediately as Isaiah's breath caught in shock.

Seline's put her hand against his cheek, coaxing him to look up at her. "Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, alright? At me, not there. You are fine, you are safe, everything’s gonna be okay."

Matthew's hand was on his shoulder, applying the gentlest pressure.

"What'-what's-"

"You had a surgery after a heart attack," Seline settled on the truth. "But everything worked out. It was successful. You are okay and gonna be completely okay."

"Why-why is that-" His green eyes were wide and his breathing was hitching from how fast it came.

Matthew grabbed Isaiah's forearm, palm wrapped around his elbow. Isaiah's fingers curled into Matthew's shirt in a vice grip.

Seline mirrored the movement, taking Isaiah's other hand into hers, the other still on his face, stroking gently up and down his cheek. "Shhhhh. We are here. We are here. You will be alright in no time. They are just letting some pressure and swelling up. It will go down and they will stich you up in a few hours. Your shadow will heal everything and you'll be all good in no time."

Isaiah's head twitched in her hand towards Matthew, like he wanted to check it added up.

Seline knew, she knew how close they were, all three together. That this was good, having them both by his side. She had never felt threatened by the closeness Matthew and Isaiah shared. All the experiences and commonalities, the quiet understanding, the open affection.

Now it made her feel like an outsider, disgusting bitter taste in her mouth.

"It burns..." Isaiah said, mouth twisting, looking at Matthew. He was gripping his hand like he was about to break it. "Like silver."

"Yeah, I know, buddy," Matthew said gently, his face drawn in pained lines. "They had to use silver cause your shadow was healing up all they did, even sedated."

Isaiah looked ready to cry at that admission.

"But not the opening wound," Seline interjected. The doctor's explanation ran through her mind nonstop. "Just around the blocked artery. Once they sew up your chest, the anesthesia wears off and you will be able to heal it up with your shadow. It will be just around the heart that will take a bit. But patients after these operations get home quickly, in just a few days after."

Isaiah nodded shakily, his breathing still fast, but not rising anymore. His hold on her hand tightened.

Seline brushed some of the black curls out of his face, then kissed his forehead. "Everything's alright. You are safe. We're right here and not leaving."

Isaiah looked towards the ceiling. "I don't like hospitals," he said, lips twitching in an attempted smile that couldn't hold.

"Nobody does, man," Matt said quietly.

Isaiah swallowed heavily, lips chapped and dry. He squirmed in their hold like he was testing how much he could move.

His body jerked suddenly and he looked down and up again, breathing in deeply.

"Shhhhhh. What is it?" Seline said, trying to catch his attention with her hand still pressed against the side of his face, thumb rubbing up his temple.

"My mom." Isaiah forced his eyes closed than opened them to little slits like the light was too much. "She-she was in a hospital with her heart...send her home and she died of it." The jittery twitchy quality to his movements was persisting, his head flinching towards Matthew. "Am I going to die?"

Matthew paled more than Isaiah's hospital sheets. "No! Of course not. No way we are letting you die, right, Sel?"

Isaiah's eyes went to hers in such fearful hope her heart squeezed, eyes burning. "You are not dying, baby. You are very strong, very resilient. They are taking good care of you."

"We wouldn't let them hurt you," Matthew said in a gruff voice. "Promise."

Isaiah looked towards the ceiling, straining in their hold with involuntary movements. "I want to go home," he said in a small voice.

"We will go home soon," Seline reassured him, leaned down to kiss his forehead. "It won't take long. You'll go to sleep for a minute, your shadow will come back and them you will heal up completely at home. All good."

"We won't leave your side for a second," Matthew added. He was focusing on Isaiah's face intentely to not mind the covered wound. He held Isaiah's forearm still up in the air with one hand, rubbing his shoulder with the other steadily.

"Hurts..." Isaiah whined. A single tear slid down his cheek on the side she was stroking it. "I don't feel good."

Seline thumbed the tear away, pressing her forehead gently to his. "Just keep looking at us, okay? None of this is important. You are okay."

"Want to go home," Isaiah repeated. The coherence was waning, his voice growing weaker. He blinked in exhaustion, another tear coming up.

Seline fought tears of her own with all she had, heart beating painfully against his ribs. She let go of Isaiah's hand in order to push the call button on the side.

It felt horrible, cause knowing he was awake, they would sedate him and check him if they could close the wounds...which was good, but it scared her that he would be closing his eyes again so soon.

Isaiah shuddered as the doors opened, people rushing in. "I don't-I don't want-"

"Just for a bit, buddy," Matthew said softly, cupping the side of Isaiah's face for a second before letting go. "We'll be here, when you wake up. First thing you see, I swear."

When the whole team of people came fussing over, Seline was forced to let go of Isaiah's hand. She never wanted to be a doctor more than in that moment to just know what was happening, what they were doing with the IVs, what they were checking him for.

A nurse ushered them out, saying they were about to roll him away to close the chest.

Seline stood in the hallway a little lost how quickly everything was happening.

A muffled groan interrupted her thoughts.

Matthew was leaning against the wall with an arm, pressing his palm against his lips with a nauseous expression.

He really held out that long for Isaiah, hadn't he?

Seline's heart wrenched at the realisation. She stepped closer, putting her hand on his elbow. "Come on. I saw a bathroom on the way."

Matthew let her steer him away from the wall to the small one-stall bathroom around the corner. She shut the door behind them to give them privacy, glad she could follow him in.

Matthew gagged against his hand, lowered himself down to the toilet in haste and burped emptily over it. "Ugh."

Seline hesitated, but then crouched down next to him as Matt shivered, gagging again. "That was a horrible sight," she agreed.

Matthew hiccuped, burying his head inside the bowl. His shoulders rolled with another empty gag. Then another muffled noise that sounded dangerously close to a sob.

Seline winced, risking to put her hand in the middle of his back. Her eyes were burning and her throat was all closed up. "Just get it up. You'll feel better in a minute. Deep breaths."

Matthew's shoulders hitched, wrapping both hands around his stomach as he heaved and heaved.

It made her suddenly wonder how much of this was Matthew's shadow reacting badly to stress, to having so many strangers around. How much did the pack behaviour play into this? Stressing him about the fact that was their pack leader too?

Shadow wolves weren't good with strained situations, emotions running amok easily. And Matthew's shadow was a hassle on good days.

She rubbed his back up and down gently, then added more pressure, thumping at his shoulder blades.

The motion ushered up a sickly burp and finally a gush of vomit spilled out.

"There you go," Seline said, stroking wide circles on his back.

Matthew let out a whine. His stomach was gurgling so loudly it echoed through the tiny bathroom. His whole back arched into her hand as another wave of sick splattered into the toilet, liquid against liquid.

He coughed against a choking noise before straightening up, nose and lips dripping with saliva.

Seline tore a bunch of toilet paper and handed it over. When he didn't take it, she gently dabbed at his face on her own, then threw it into the toilet and flushed.

"A bit better now?"

Matthew swayed dizzily, grabbing onto the porcelain rim for support. His eyes were glazed over and shimmering with moisture.

Seline made a move to stand. "I'll get you some water."

His hand on her wrist stopped her. Matthew didn't tug at it, just held it weakly. "Wait."

She lowered herself back to her knees with a sigh. "What is it?"

"Just-just stay." He looked away in shame, sniffling. "Please."

Even her anger didn't reach that far. And after seeing Isaiah rolled away with that gaping hole in his chest...

She pulled her hand out of his grasp only to take it properly. A tiny squeeze.

Matthew hang his head, not looking up, his elbow braced against the toilet seat. His breathing was evening out and he didn't seem so nauseous anymore.

Seline couldn't stand that look no longer, reaching over impulsively to wrap her arms around him.

Matthew gasped in suprise before letting himself sink into her embrace. His hands came around her waist, pressing tightly like that was all that he wanted the whole time.

"It's okay. We're gonna be okay," she said into his hair, burying her nose into it. She hadn't realized how much she craved this, how much more complete she felt with Matt pressed against her like this.

They held onto each other in that tiny bathroom, Isaiah's tears fresh in their minds.

[the-crooked-library]

"You and I Have Begun to Blur"

This is eating my brain from inside, so here's the thing: one of my favourite aspects of Hannigram as a ship is their balance - the way they mirror and complete each other, functionally two halves of the same whole; but what is even more fascinating is that, in a literary sense, Hannibal and Will are, in fact, inspired by two opposing aspects of the same man.

It all begins (like many other things) with Lord Byron; specifically, the summer he spent with a group of friends at Villa Diodati in Geneva, and the dare, that each member of the group would write a ghost story - one of which was Dr. Polidori's The Vampyre. This novella, which introduced the vampire legend to Western popular culture, defined its archetypes for centuries to come; and as such, Polidori's Lord Ruthven, who was based on Lord Byron, became a blueprint.

He is dark, foreign, seductive, dangerous, hypnotizing, hedonistic, possessive; his relationship with the main character, Aubrey, is markedly homoerotic - and these qualities endure as the archetype is passed down the generations. From Ruthven, we get Carmilla, Dracula, Lestat - and, indeed, Hannibal Lecter.

From this:

To this:

he is still, recognizably, a Byronic villain. Whether he operates within an overtly supernatural genre, or a psychological thriller, he is still confident, dominant, manipulative, and always representative of forbidden (queer, interracial, extramarital, etc) desire and temptation.

However, The Vampyre was not the only piece written for the same dare, not the only piece that left a legacy within popular horror, and, most importantly for this context, not the only piece that featured a Byronic character. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein introduced a second such archetype into the gothic genre - inspired by her own understanding of Lord Byron; so, while her Victor Frankenstein shares the same dark hair and pallor as Polidori's Ruthven, there is an ocean of differences between the two.

Victor Frankenstein is a Tortured Genius. He is odd and wild, passionate, prone to isolation; a misfit from the start, always lonely despite the few connections he has, and never truly understood. His intellect is both a gift and the source of his ruin, and he is plagued, in equal measure, by both pride and guilt.

In both looks and character, he passes almost unchanged - from this:

To this:

Even centuries later, he is still the smartest man in the room, he is always tormented, and his counterpart is always a Monster. We see him pop up throughout horror media - as poets, composers, detectives - reflected in Edgar Allan Poe's Roderick Usher, Lovecraft's Henry Wilcox, or Spencer Reid of Criminal Minds. Unlike those of Ruthven's lineage, these people are usually either frail or sickly, socially awkward, uncertain of themselves except for a specific area of expertise, and their sanity commonly tends to be in question.

Despite such differences, though, all these characters are Lord Byron's legacy, weaving their way through history - on the page, on the stage, on the screen, it matters not. By the time they meet again in NBC's Hannibal, they are as separate as two entities can be - yet entwined more closely than any other genre would allow.

Frankly, it drives me feral.

There is so much here to unpack - they are a whole, and yet separate, each with his own archetypal history. Does something within Will Graham's bones remember Frankenstein when he stands in the forensic lab, surrounded by corpses?.. On the Doylist level, does that inform the acting - however subconsciously - in any way?.. Does Count Hannibal Lecter have Lord Ruthven's smile - or Lord Byron's?.. Does he know?

How much is reality?

How much is fiction?

How much is lost through interpretation? How much is remembered? How much does anyone ever really Know us, truly, when two of Byron's closest friends saw entirely different people in him?

I don't know. We can never know. What is evident, though, is that Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham are two halves of the same soul - and that this soul aches to be complete.

[zoeykallus]

Howdy lovely!!

This might be a strange request but I’m just really curious about what the bad batchers would think about their S/O being a teacher for younger kids. Im a teacher for younger kids and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a HC about it. Thank you for looking at these requests and as always don’t do this request if you don’t want to or feel comfortable

💚 lots of love ~ Madison

Aloha, sweetheart!

Not a strange request at all, I think it's cute 😊

The Bad Batch x Teacher!Reader HCs - Teaching The Next Generation

Hunter

The moment he finds out how you make a living, he is hooked. He tries to imagine you teaching the kids, and just the idea warms his heart. Hunter himself can't quite explain why, he doesn't really realize he's a family man, but he definitely is. The thought that you're good with kids automatically makes you even more attractive to him. The first time he sees you working with children, he is excited. Working with children requires sensitivity and patience, two qualities Hunter appreciates and admires. He volunteers to come along on a field trip to help supervise and share some of his knowledge. Hunter is very nervous at first, but he quickly settles into the role of teacher with your help and enjoys being able to pass on his knowledge. The children may be skeptical at first because of his appearance, the face tattoo seems a little dark, but they quickly learn how kind and patient Hunter is, from him, they like to learn everything about flora and fauna, how to read tracks and survive in the wilderness if you get lost.

Wrecker

He is enthusiastic. Wrecker loves kids and the kids love him right from the first time they meet him. By now, they call him Uncle Wrecker when he picks you up from work. His playful, friendly nature goes down well with the little ones, and of course his appearance amazes the kids. Plus, he always has candy with him. You definitely have something in common when it comes to dealing with the kids; you have that certain sensitivity, patience, and sense of play and fun. Wrecker has respect for your work, and is always happy to lend a hand when you prepare special projects for the students. He talks about your work with pride when he talks about it with others. Wrecker thinks what you do is incredibly inspirational.

Echo

He has respect for your work. Echo feels that you have an important part to play in shaping and preparing future generations. It is a part of you that he finds very attractive, that you are so patient and full of sensitivity, which also benefits him in your relationship. One of your school children is dependent on prosthetics, much like Echo. When you notice how difficult the child finds it on a physical but also emotional level, you ask him to drop by in class. Echo is hesitant at first, but then agrees. Of course, he is stared at, but that is nothing new for him, and he doesn't really hold it against the children. The said child with the prostheses marvels at him shyly and Echo takes time for this child to explain that even with prostheses you are still a person, you can achieve everything you want if you only want it. "We are different, that may be, but we are not worth less. We are also allowed to have goals, dreams and desires. Look at me, I'm still what I always wanted to be, a soldier, and I'm good at it because I want it and work hard for it" The children gather around him and ask questions, and he answers them all patiently, showing and explaining the function of his prosthetics. You look at him gratefully, and he winks at you. Echo can always be counted on, and the fact that you admire him for what he is doing makes his heart beat faster.

Tech

"An admirable profession" Tech knows that patience and sensitivity are important, but so much more. Empathy, adaptability, and of course, a certain intellect. He admires you for that, in fact he's fascinated by your profession. "You should be a teacher, too, when the war is over," you suggest, hoping he'll consider it. Tech adjusts his goggles with his index finger and says thoughtfully, "A nice idea, I guess I have the know-how, but I suppose I don't have the sensitivity or empathy." You look at him in surprise and say, "You shouldn't underestimate yourself in that regard. I've already seen that you unexpectedly have a fine radar for things emotional, you just express yourself a little too directly sometimes." Tech thinks about what you said long after that conversation. On a visit to your class, he's talking to the kids and explaining his job and answering many other questions the kids bombard him with when you have to temporarily leave the classroom. At first, Tech feels very uncomfortable being alone with the kids. But when you return, he is engaged in a chess game with one of your high-achieving students and about to lose, the rest of the class set up excitedly around the two as if watching an exciting fight. Sure enough, Tech loses and says, "You win, young man. You know you're way too smart for your age?" The boy beams at him, revealing a few missing teeth. When you ask Tech, perplexed, "Did he really beat you at chess?", Tech just winks at you unobtrusively, conspiratorially, and replies, "Fair and square". You smile and say softly, "You should really consider changing jobs."

Crosshair

He is not good with children, but admires what you do. He feels uncomfortable around children because he can't do anything with them. "They're loud, ask nosy questions and grab at everything," he growls, rolling his eyes as you ask why he never picks you up at work. You can't help but laugh, whereupon he cocks an eyebrow at you. "What's so funny?" "That you're afraid of children." Crosshair frowns unwillingly. "I'm not afraid of anything" "If you say so" you return with a smile. Doggedly he looks at you, "Tomorrow I'll pick you up from work, at your classroom. What's the number of the room?" "201," you say, still grinning. When he picks you up the next day, he seems anything but relaxed. There are kids running around in the hallways, and his eyes are twitching back and forth as if he expects them to infect him with something deadly. But the children automatically give the gloomy-looking man a wide berth. You say gently teasingly, "Relax soldier, this is not a battlefield." He snorts, "I'd feel more comfortable on a battlefield." You chastely kiss his cheek and say, "Okay, you proved to me how brave you are. I won't ask you to pick me up here again". He looks at you, scrutinizing, as you walk side by side down the hall to the exit. Finally, he says, sighing, "But you'll be disappointed if I don't". "I didn't say that" "Your face said it" You shrug your shoulders and Crosshair finally gives in with a sigh, "Twice a week I'll pick you up here when I'm on site" You smile lopsidedly at him, whereupon he grabs your hand and growls, "You're going to drive me crazy, Kitten"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@starwarsnerd111

[itstheoneshot]

Kinktober Day 6

Age Gap/Power Imbalance: Xiumin

!dom Xiumin

It was a chance meeting, you and Minseok. At a work function, not yours, but your father’s business. Minseok is the deputy manager, at executive level not far below that of your CEO father, and not much younger than him either. You were drinking alone at one of the tables when he came and introduced himself to you, and you were instantly intrigued by those cat-like eyes of his. Black hair, slicked back off his forehead, only accentuated his features more.

“I recognise you from the photos in his office,” He tells you, “Your father gushes about you, and I can see why. A pretty young girl like you shouldn’t be here alone, though.”

You catch on quicker than you let it seem, playing innocent and confused, seeing the way that it entices him. You are fascinated, and a little intimidated by the man’s status. You want to seem more mature, as he is so much older than you are, and you feel privileged to be getting all of this attention from him.

“I’m not alone anymore,” You reply sweetly, although your intention is not quite so sweet, “Unless you weren’t planning on hanging around?”

Minseok smirks as he sits down beside you, his arm resting on the table right by your hand, “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere without you.”

There is no way you could say no to him, accepting every drink he gets for you with gracious thanks, as you follow him around like a lost puppy. He has you won over so easily, just the way that he wanted. No second thoughts or hesitation as you follow him out to his car when the night gets late, not caring to let your father know where you are going, but it’s not like he ever cared about your whereabouts anyway, only wanting you at these events for his own appearance.

“Why do you only call your father by his first name?” Minseok asks you as his chauffeur pulls up at his house, “I don’t even have the courage to do that.”

You roll your eyes at him, taking his hand to exit the car, “He’s not worthy of the title, it is as simple as that.”

Minseok squeezes your hand in his as he leads you to the front door, “I’m sorry to hear that, little one. You deserve to be taken care of.”

The way that makes you feel is crazy, butterflies stir in your stomach as you follow him into his house. It is so nice, very bachelor style, top-to-bottom spotless clean, modern architecture, very telling of his wealth, but coming from your own lifestyle, of course you like that. Minseok doesn’t take his eyes off you for a moment, not while you remove your heels, sighing out as you stretch your feet for the first time all night, and you straighten up to meet his gaze once more.

“Why did you invite me over?” You ask with an air of innocence, you know the reason, but you want to hear it from him.

“Like I said,” He responds as he pulls you closer to him, “You deserve to be taken care of.”

He kisses you before you can reply, knocking the breath out of you, his hands moving, one settling at the back of your neck, and the other on your waist. You whimper meekly, fingers tangling in his hair as you so easily fall apart. It feels… illegal although it isn’t, to be with someone so far your senior, but that doesn’t stop you from following him down the hallway, items of clothing falling off you both as you go. He is unreal, his body is perfect, and it is obvious that he feels the same way about you.

“Good girl,” He purrs as you straddle his hips, lowering yourself down onto his cock, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

It didn’t take you long to get here, after he warmed you up, made you cum with his fingers alone, he directed you to this position and you so eagerly followed his demands. You reach a new level of subspace, loving the attention that he gives you more than any other man ever had. He has you exactly where he wanted, and you couldn’t care less about how easily you gave in.

“Daddy!” You cry out as he fills you with ease, “Need you to help, please?”

Minseok chuckles, guiding your hips, lifting you up to drop you down again, helping you ride him. You are grateful for his strength as your thighs begin to burn, and he rolls you over onto your back to hover over you and fuck you from this position instead. He is much more deserving of the title, turned on immensely by the age gap, by the imbalance between you, and you are equally the part.

“My little girl,” He murmurs, thrusting harder as he feels his orgasm nearing, “Gonna keep you forever, I think, and there’s nothing anyone could do about it.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, spine arching as your own release overwhelms you. Slurred moans, cries, nails dragging down his back and marks left in their wake.

“You’ll do anything I tell you, won’t you?” He asks, laughing as you nod before he finishes speaking, “I know better, I have so much more experience than you.”

You feel his cock twitch, and release, filling you up without a second thought about whether you are on protection - thank god you are - only caring that he makes it known to you that he is so very much in control here, and you have no say in that at all.

-

kinktober masterlist

[capillaryspice]

Man, I know particle accelerators are a relatively common thing to exist, but I still can't get over the fact that they're so fuckin sci-fi in both concept and appearance, and that I've looked at one up close

I don't pretend to understand shit about high end science, but it does fascinate me. Back in highschool on our way back from doing multi-day community service work in bumfuck nowhere Minnesota, we stopped by an out of service mine that partially served as a tour site on how mines used to function, and on much lower levels served as particle acceleration/dark matter testing.

I truly can't describe the emotional journey experienced over the several hours of of getting into an 18th century vibe rickety ass iron elevator with an open front, and descending over two thousand feet beneath the earth past countless yawning maws of vacant mine shafts, having a tour largely in the dark explaining the grueling experience and mortality rate of working the mines, then descending further and walking into a cavern sporting the largest pieces of technology I've ever seen that look like some shit straight out of Star Trek, getting a spiel about dark matter, and then after having my mind blown at 17, traveling back up the terrifying elevator to emerge into a fucking gift shop

[thekimspoblog]

As far as the bowling balls thing? Yeah that was incredibly dangerous... which is why I don't buy it when fans say Kim "didn't think Howard would get killed". Like is Kim just an idiot? Maybe, but "We're talking about a career set back" is very much the kind of rationalization Walter White would do. One of the very first things you learn in law school is how easily pranks (or even things with good intent) can result in massive consequences. Hell even that scene where they're throwing beer bottles off the balcony, that could have brained someone and the show would have been over two seasons sooner. I don't think Kim was actively planning to kill Howard obviously, but I do believe she harbored generic "Hate my boss, fantasize about his head exploding" animosity. And again, maybe she even thought ripping the firm away from him would do him a kindness, make the scales fall from his eyes. She already played a small hand in Chuck's suicide, and clearly internalized her blame, so going after Howard was just doubling down.

Rationally, I'm sure when she says "We're talking about a career setback" she means "I'll be super duper careful. I have everything under control. What are the odds he will get hurt?" But subconsciously, she HAD TO have known... "What are the odds? Pretty good actually. But... damn it it's her money, she earned it. Hasn't she waited long enough for success already? She'd use the money so much better than HHM would; she could change the whole state for the better! Not to mention... she never thought she'd want a family but being around Jimmy makes her feel so safe and like herself. A nonprofit serving for the greater good, a shiny new life to mark a new chapter, those things are more important than one man's career/life right? Cost of doing business; it's what he would do to her!"

I think it's really fascinating how what happened to Howard was one of the only times the plan backfired AFTER working as intended. Jimmy's an idiot who keeps insisting he has everything under control when he clearly doesn't, but at least most of his stuff failed because there was some variable he didn't consider and the plan didn't go as intended. With Howard, the scam was already functionally over; the harm that was inflicted was the harm intended. The only problem was that apparently Step 10 of Kim's plan was that afterwards Howard would bounce back, and because of a freak accident that never came to pass. But come on, Kim had to know Howard wasn't ACTUALLY going to bounce back. And even though Lalo appearing was a freak accident, I'm sure on some level seeing Howard drop dead felt like she had wished on a monkey's paw.

It's not that I hate Howard with a burning passion or anything. It's just that compared to other deaths (of brown people) in Breaking Bad, Howard's death felt like a pretty run of the mill tragedy. I knew even in the early seasons that clearly this hate-sink character had a little more depth to him. But even that depth was pretty shallow, and Howard just played the role of the scapegoat too well NOT to be sacrificed to the plot demons. I just have to wonder how it would affect Kim's sense of guilt to know that no matter what she would have done, the arc of the story probably would have bent towards axing him off. And in fact if she didn't do these awful things herself, there's a good chance she would have been in that fridge instead. When I say "Howard deserved it" I really mean "We all knew someone needed to die for the grand finale; it might as well have been him"

Oh yeah, I’m with you on that while no one was expecting Lalo to show up and shoot Howard Kim (and Jimmy) knew that it was more than “just a career setback” and would have a devastating effect not just on Howard’s career, but also his reputation, social life, mental health, etc… But she was able to justify it to herself like you said with “l’ll use the money for a better cause” and “he’d do the same to me” (except I don’t think he would and I’m not sure she’s convinced of it either). But yeah, it’s really interesting that the plan technically DID work! And it would all have “been Ok” had Lalo not shown up

I do wonder how Kim would have grappled with the fallout of the plan, had Howard survived, been disbarred and ostracized, etc…

As far as my Kim v. Chuck headcanon? Well we know there were several years where Kim was working her way up as an associate while Jimmy was still working in the mail room. That means that because the story is largely from Jimmy's perspective, there were probably many interactions between Kim and Chuck we didn't see. We know Kim admired Chuck at one point, but by the time he's hospitalized, when Kim is asked if Chuck behaves "irrationally" she just goes quiet. And sure you can say that's just because his mental health has been declining with the EHS stuff, but I think there was an actual point in the timeline where she lost respect for him.

Knowing Kim, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a case - let's call it "State v. Maxim" - that had some sort of heavy precedent on women's rights. And Kim was heavily skeptical of Chuck's strategy, but he dismissed her misgivings as her being a greenhorn. HHM lost the case and set a bad precedent, but that's not why Kim held a grudge. No. She lost respect for Chuck because she saw Chuck would sooner blame the courts than admit he did a bad job. And it set her early on a track of "I need to be at the same level of authority as these old white dudes or higher if possible" but at the time she still thought she could break that glass ceiling just by working hard.

My only evidence this happened - besides just thinking it adds an interesting fucked up layer to her decision to help Jimmy in Season 3 - is a cryptic line from Season 1 where Rich tells Chuck he "always expected him to be arguing in front of the supreme court one day" and Chuck just goes uncomfortably silent. As if Chuck had the chance once upon a time and blew it.

And of course my other headcanon (although State v. Maxim fits into it) is the Blue Iris theory - that Kim was dealing with a pregnancy scare at some point between "Hit and Run" and "Point and Shoot" and that at least CONTRIBUTED to why she was acting like such a freak instead of telling Jimmy that Lalo was alive. She thought she was going get the settlement money, THEN she would be able to pull him out of the cartel and they would either skip town or just hire a shitload of body guards, and they would live happily ever after using the Sandpiper nest egg to finally put the past behind them. Then Howard got popped and she realized if she just kept getting in deeper, she was going to get both Jimmy and herself killed. She felt like having a normal life with him was a pipe dream and she was stupid for thinking she could have it. Besides, I think she was already kind of a tokophobe, and if she didn't view her bond with her own mother as something monstrous before, she certainly did then! She realized she could NOT allow a child to be brought into this mess.

Ooh I love that headcanon with Chuck! I totally envision something like that happening. Chuck may have been correct in the whole switched address chicanery, but his refusal to back down and admit mistakes definitely seems in character, even in situations where he IS wrong and DID make a mistake

I could definitely see him ignoring a woman’s voice in a case concerning women’s rights, because she’s a newer lawyer and not as experienced professionally

The idea of Kim possibly being pregnant during that whole arc and not telling Jimmy about Lalo being alive still because of that is fun

Departing pretty broadly from the established canon now, but I believe in the week she was dealing with that (it was only stress-related amenorrhea, but given Kim's strong sense of independence the possibility sent her spiraling) one night she stayed up late after Jimmy went to bed and happened to catch a midnight broadcast of Dario Argento's "Suspiria" on the classic movies channel. Something about that movie - the feeling it creates, the lighting, the music - it just infected her dreams. Became permanently entangled with the questions that crazy week left her with: "What if she was being watched by something even more dangerous than the cartel? Something invisible. If Howard's death was so statistically unlikely, why is it her gut knew this would happen all along? And if she and Jimmy really were poison together, what would their child have been like?" She ran to the opposite side of the country, but the song wouldn't leave her alone. The dreams/nightmares of those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes wouldn't leave her alone.

[twistedastrology]

Outer Planets & Affliction: What destroys a man.

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

gonna talk abt a much darker topic today bc i feel like it and it's absolutely fascinating to me from a very morbid perspective (which happens a lot 4 me)

im gonna start this off by saying this is mostly focusing on extreme cases/what Could happen due to outer planet affliction, none of this is definite if u have afflicted outer planets bc it depends on the severity of their affliction and how many good counter aspects u have to them that help u heal!! :)

to start, the outer planets to me are Saturn to Pluto, so let me give u a quick rundown of what I think these planets are responsible for when they're heavily afflicted:

Saturn - Destruction of the will, the snuffing of one's inner, driving fire.

Uranus - Destruction of the mind, losing your cognitive function, going insane.

Neptune - Destruction of the spirit, loss or lack of intuition, feeling lost within your own life.

Pluto - Destruction of the body, the vessel decays and lacks the strength to repair itself.

i wanna say as well that all of this essentially came to me in a vision from god, i genuinely had no basis in my head initially, i was just rambling to myself in my head and all of this clicked and then it genuinely made sense and i even had evidence to back it up, so i wanted to post abt it because i love dark stuff like this (my blog name isn't twisted astrology for no reason- i mean like the reason was bc it was a play on twist and twisted transistor by korn But yknow it gains reasons as i go on-)

let's go over why each planet destroys what they do:

Saturn destroys the will because it rules over time and persistance- Capricorns are more often than not very driven people, Saturn grounds them and gives them the stability and willpower to see things through. A strong Saturn is often manifested as a very powerful driving force, as the planet often acts an incredibly crucial pillar, if not the foundation in a person's chart.

Uranus destroys the mind because it's the higher octave of Mercury. It rules over innovation and change, even higher thought. A strong Uranus is often an indicator of a genius in whatever area of life the planet is placed into. Thus, when afflicted, it completely shatters and even lacks this potential altogether.

Neptune destroys the spirit because it's known as the planet of spirituality. It's the planet of our higher self and our shadow self, it's our connection to the planes of existence beyond our own. A strong Neptune is often indicative of enhanced intuition, and can even mean the person has a heightened level of awareness of their place in the world and where they're meant to be in life. So naturally, an afflicted Neptune means a complete lack of perspective and the loss/lack of the ability to realize there is more than the self, making one feel lonely, inadequate, and lost.

Pluto destroys the body because it rules over death, transformation and rebirth. It even rules over destruction itself, and its connection to death gives it an inherent connection to the physical body as well. A strong Pluto can manifest as a strong will, but also as a higher pain tolerance because of that. Therefore when it's afflicted, the soul's vessel lacks the ability to transform and regenerate itself effectively, and ultimately will crumble to pieces throughout the course of life.

OK- lemme write normally now instead of all fancy n shit 😮‍💨 But what's my evidence to prove all this-

well someone i know has very heavily afflicted outer planets, mainly saturn, uranus and pluto, but neptune was kinda roped into the affliction as well- and all of this checks out.

saturn especially hits him hard, which also makes it all karmic so idk wtf bro did in a past life but it had to've been Bad bc he's got some SERIOUSLY afflicted outer planets like jesus fucking christ- and like i dont wanna talk too much shit on here but he's insufferable to say the least and, probably bc of the afflicted saturn, will not do the work to fix it.

would genuinely hate to be him on his death bed like 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

ANYWAY-

like i said initially tho this does not mean if u have a kinda afflicted uranus, ur gonna go insane!!! no sir!!! it's just abt the extremes n stuff and what i have literally seen happen with my own eyes- i think most people have enough soft aspects to get them into the process of healing, maybe not even soft aspects maybe just solid placements- it's all subjective, rly-

but this is also a really good way to talk abt the Power that these planets have- they are NOT to be fucked with bc when afflicted, they can obliterate you and your entire life tbh- i dont think they Want to unless you somehow have beef with them but overall they are just incredibly powerful planets and i truly think when reading someone's astrology chart, you GOTTA look at the outer planets bc otherwise you're missing out on SOOOOO much crucial information.

i always say that i think outer planets, whether in transit or in a natal chart, have the absolute MOST impact on a person despite being so far away.

far away ≠ lack of impact.

i hope this was interesting to read or at least thought provoking bc i absolutely LOVE dark topics like these, probably my moon/neptune in my 8th house tbh- i mean im genuinely fucking petrified of tornadoes like lilapsophobia type shit but i still put that image here because i unfortunately think they are really fucking cool at the same time (ive had multiple nightmares where tornadoes have killed me. but like........ they're kinda cool......and i hate them........)

anyway!!!!! thank u for reading this far into my yapping session 🙏🙏

[volterran-wine]

Hi!

You mentioned in one of your posts (I think the one about leaving your blog) about you liking historical research for the Volturi backstories, and I have some general feelings about vampires and history that I've been itching to share to ANYONE since joining the twilight fandom - since few people are gushing about this (though I will admit I'm kind of picky when it comes to content, so I might not have seen it).

Vampires are FUNCTIONALLY IMMORTAL! That is SOOO fascinating! Just imagine looking into the eyes of an ancient vampire. You're LOOKING at HISTORY. At someone having lived for so long it's hard for a human to truly grasp what that means (which I don't think really requires that much). It's just… AGH! I can't even express how fascinating and awe inspiring that would be…

Bella got to TALK to a man born in 1640's London, and ASKED NO QUESTIONS?! WHAT?!?! I'd want to know EVERYTING! All the little mundane, and everyday details of everyday people. I mean, we know so little of the lives of everyday people in history. That's just not something that was regularly recorded. And the things we know get more scarce the further back we look. I'd want to know what we got right, and what we got wrong. I'd want to know about the lives, attitudes, and thoughts, and little habits of the commoners. I'd want to know of the town gossip, and what they thought of and knew of the wider world. I'd want to know how different and how similar we are.

As a child, I would regularly fantasize about traveling back in time just to talk to some random historic person. And twilight has these very, very old people with photographic memories, and Bella has the opportunity to talk to them about the past and She. Doesn't. Take it! 😭 My inner child is crying, and so am I.

I too like to write backstories for these characters (though with bullet points, maps, and long tangents, not the beautiful texts you bless our eyes with), though I tend to get distracted and just fall down the rabbit hole reading about ancient history (and then being frustrated about how little we know), so I also understand, having tried myself, that writing such a scene would be frustrating considering trying to answer these types of questions would essentially be making up headcanons about history, which isn't as appealing when trying to be historically accurate. But GOSH, do I want it! (Also it requires a level of creativity I sadly lack).

And ARO HAS MEMORIES OF OTHER PEOPLE AS WELL!!!! Just!!! Not just his own, which by itself is already amazing, but all the regular people he has touched over the millennia! Just IMAGINE all the stories he has to tell! All those lost cultures and languages… Ffjgsjfkgkskf! I don't care that I'd be eaten. I would beg for at least an hour of conversation with that man. He can eat me afterwards, and I'd die happy. 😍 (I don't think I even have concrete things to ask. I'd just want him to open his mouth and talk about the "good old days" until he gets hungry and eats me.)

ALSO I'm curious what getting to be that old would have on things like beliefs, personality traits, and cultural habits. These people have OUTLIVED their culture, but surely it still has some effect on them? Isn't there this concept that what you learn early sticks with you best? Surely, a part of that is the culture you were socialized in. I wonder how many small cultural habits or ways of thinking that have, almost unknowingly, stayed with them into their immortal lives and through the ages. Do vampires experience culture shock? But all the time, because the world evolves.

Imagine outliving your own society. There are no other people alive (or undead) that know it. Imagine watching it slowly evolve and change before your eyes until it's unrecognizable to you… How does that feel? How do they cope?

That is all, thank you.

One thing is for certain; being a vampire must be horrible strange for a good couple of centuries. I cannot fathom looking into the eyes of something that is so old, so ancient… and simply go on with my day.

Vampires haunt me.

[madammidnightsblog]

Nikto x Alyssa (oc)

“Wow..”

Nikto turned his head to see me leaning against the small outside table in front of me as I sat it. My body covered in my coat and my uniform, my long hair down to cover my ears from the cold. I was the newest and youngest addition to the allied team, being barely mid twenties and one of the few females of the team. My coffee mug in front of me along with a half eaten pastry, I was obviously having a late night snack silently when he came out. My eyes wide and full of.. awe? He was expecting a different reaction to his face that he rarely ever shows due to the disfigurement from a brutal torture he suffered from. But yet, I looked at him with awe and surprise.

Nikto’s jaw tightened. He was not expecting anyone to be outside with him, especially this late; and his nerves were on edge even more with him being without his mask. He grumbled something in frustration under his breath- and looked at you, noticing the expression on your face with a mix of confusion and irritation.

“What, do I have something on my face? What’s so shocking..” He responded in a gruff tone, taking an irritated puff from his cigarette.

“You’re so handsome..” I whispered as my eyes stared up at him, warmth and awe filled them as I sat there. My plush lips parted softly as I stared.

His left side of his face was full of scars, his short black hair wasn���t growing from the a little bit above brow level to his ear, his tired blue eyes staring back at me, and the little bit of a goatee that was growing was seen. His ear a bit disfigured and scarred from the abuse that was done to him, leaving him a bit hard of hearing in that ear. A large scar across his right side of his lips made my heart flutter. He was truly a beautiful man in my eyes, one that had a harden soldier appearance and he was clearly a survivor from those scar.

A small bullet scar that grazed the right brow was there and his nose was crocked from being broken and healing wrongly but still functioning properly. I couldn’t find it in me to be disgusted or scared, I just stared at him like he was the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.

Nikto went silent, stunned. He had spent countless hours brooding over his scars. Feeling disgusted at the sight of himself in mirrors, and horrified by his reflection. He was used to stares of shock and disgust from the people around him. Yet here I was, calling him handsome? It was almost laughable, with how hard he was on himself. He let out a scoff, before taking another long puff as a mix of emotion ran through him.

“You’re either pulling my leg or you need your eyes checked, kid-“

“No..” I said slowly, my expression never leaving or softening, no, my eyes only sparkled more in the moonlight.

“You’re so beautiful..” Those words left my lips so effortlessly, the chilly breeze made my long brown hair sway in the wind and my hands cupped the hot mug of coffee. My eyes never left him and I just stared at him like he was a painting in a museum that I couldn’t look away from.

My heart was racing at the sight of his face, my cheeks turning more red from not only the nipping of the cold air but also from attraction. There was many attractive men on my base and his team, not hard to tell when you looked at him but he had to be the most beautiful in my eyes. Something about seeing him as a survivor, someone that went to hell and back and still moving was attractive. But those scars and the Russian features on him, was so gorgeous. I couldn’t help but to stare at him with admiration and attraction.

He looked at me bewildered. Nobody - nobody-had ever told him that before. Usually they turned away or left completely due to the sight of his face. And yet here I was, sitting there in fascination.

“You’re either insane or an idiot.” He grumbled again, this time a hint of uncertainty in his voice. He put his cigarette to his lips again, as a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty began to bubble up in him.

“I’m okay with that.. if being insane or an idiot means you’ll be this beautiful then I’m fine with it.” I muttered out, finally breaking eye contact and looking at my coffee. All flustered and shy as my cheeks were even redder, my long hair softly falling in my face as I looked down.

I couldn't help the warmth that filled my cheeks or the way my heart was racing in my chest, it was hard to contain the way I was so flustered from seeing his face for the first time. The russian only came outside for a smoke break and clear his head, he had no idea anyone was outside at two in the morning, especially when it was so close to winter. So, he believed it would be fine to take his mask fully off to allow his skin to breath, and yet, he wasn't alone. He had no idea what to do and neither did I. But all I knew, he was far from the most beautiful man I ever seen, and I couldn't help my eyes flicking back over at him to look at him once again, making my heart flutter once more.