#currently re-listening to try and understand him

[il3x]

maybe I missed some crucial info but from what I remember joseph reboot.exe is an incomprehensible character. wild. guy who has a rotting underground lab filled with cybernetic zombies where he harvests people's organs and grins CONSTANTLY, even when he's talking to you. and guy with more degrees than you can count, worn down by life, working diligently to save slummers whom no one else will give medical care to, and calling you out on your improper lab hygeine. while holding a giant rusty cleaver covered with 6 layers of blood in his character art. bestie who ARE you. how do you reconcile these personas

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Fake Plastic Trees | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader | A doctorbitchcrxft Original

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: everybody's mental health is in the shitter, drug use, simp behavior, mentions of overdose

Word Count: 1273

A/N: A special little surprise!!! As you may have seen while I was losing my mind posting about this Radiohead song, Dean and Y/N's current relationship state reminds me so much of it. I highlyyy recommend listening while you read! I hope you enjoy!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Smoke passed through your lips as you blew out a shuddering breath. The night air was warmer than you’d come to expect from a midwestern night. Still, the metal of the Impala’s trunk was cooling the undersides of your thighs while you sat on it wrapped in Dean’s black hoodie. It was a wonder you’d even been able to find as much weed as you’d been smoking recently; many of your old contacts in different states had been arrested for possession or died from using harder drugs. The marijuana soothed you, and you’d occasionally use cigarettes to bridge the gap between smoking or drinking yourself into oblivion. 

You were just tired. You didn’t know how to explain it; it was a fatigue you’d never known before. Taking care of yourself felt like a chore, but you forced yourself to do it anyway. 

Everything just felt so… futile. The gentle rustling of tree leaves across the parking lot felt forced; as if the universe was trying to lull you into believing all was well. However, time and time again, the angels were showing you every person was just a pawn on a chess board. Everything everyone valued— wealth, brand names, appearances, security, safety, friends, family— it all seemed so inconsequential; a drop in the ocean of time. Nothing was in your control, and maybe that was why people resorted to being materialistic: to prevent themselves from going insane thinking of all the ways they didn’t matter. 

“You okay?” a deep voice rumbled from behind you.

You jumped instantly, pressing a hand to your chest when you realized it was just Dean. “Jesus, dude,” you breathed out. “You scared me.”

He chuckled. “Sorry.” Dean gestured to the joint still burning between your fingers. 

You passed it to him, eyebrows furrowing when you noticed something. You grabbed his other hand while he took a puff from the joint and examined his fingers closely. “Your fingers are different,” you said finally.

Dean gave you a quizzical look before he realized what you meant. “Oh, yeah,” he replied, sitting next to you on the Impala’s trunk.

Then, you noticed his chin, cupping it and tilting his chin toward you. “Your scar’s gone, too.”

“I know,” he said, smirking a little, “no more broken fingers, no more scars; nothing. It was all gone when I popped up out the box.”

You nodded in understanding, pausing for a moment to think. “Does that mean you were re-hymenated?” you wondered aloud.

Dean shoved your shoulder lightly, and you giggled. “That’s what I was tryna tell Sam! He said no, though.”

Then, a weight settled back on your shoulders. “And you lost it to Jamie,” you sighed under your breath.

The man deflated. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.

When you looked over to him, you gestured for the joint that was almost fully smoked. “ ‘S nothing,” you said while you took it back.

“Bullshit,” he replied.

You closed your eyes. “Dean, it’s okay. Bigger fish.” You flicked the remaining filter away from you and watched as it burnt out completely on the pavement. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while; both feeling the weight of the world settling in. 

“I’m tired, Dean,” you muttered, still staring out at the parking lot.

“Maybe we should head inside, then—”

“No,” you said, grabbing his hand and stopping him from getting off the trunk. “I’m tired.”

Dean settled back onto the trunk and nodded. “I know,” he replied. “I am, too.”

You looked up at him with sad eyes. “How do we fix this, man? How do we fix us?”

He looked right back at you with eyes seeming to pierce through to your soul. “I don’t know,” he replied earnestly. “I really don’t.”

“I thought about what you said a few weeks ago,” you told him, “about missing who we used to be.”

Dean looked like he was going to say something, but you cut him off. 

“And I know you barely recognize me anymore. I’m still learning how to recognize you; if I’m honest.”

Your best friend just stared through you while you spoke despite the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

“Do you think, maybe…” you trailed off, swallowing a burning feeling in your throat, “maybe you’ll never look at me the same again?”

Dean grabbed your hand. “I don’t even wanna go there, (Y/N), look at me.” 

You did.

“You still look like you. You still taste like you. That’s all that matters,” he replied. Dean rubbed his thumb over yours while the two of you sat next to each other in silence. 

Then, he asked, “What do you mean about ‘recognizing me’?” 

“It’s kinda like what you said,” you replied, “you still taste like you, you still look like you, but it’s different. We changed so much since the last time I saw you. And, like, during that time, we didn’t get to grow together if that makes sense.”

“I guess it does,” Dean sighed. 

“What’s that about?” you asked, looking him over. He looked up at you. “What?”

“That sigh,” you responded. “Sighing’s my thing. You’re more of a huffer.”

He chuckled. “It’s jus’ a lot to take in, y’know?”

“Trust me, I do.”

The parking lot went silent again. The wind taunted you once more by blowing tendrils of your hair just enough to kiss your cheeks. It felt like mockery; given no real comfort could be provided to you. 

“(Y/N)?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the gentle way Dean said your name, and you turned your head toward him.

“I don’t think I can be who you need right now.”

The glowing feeling inside your chest dissipated as quickly as it came. “I know,” you replied, looking down at your shoes.

“You do?” He looked over at you; genuine shock on his face.

“Just like I can’t be who you need, either,” you said evenly. “But I don’t need you to be perfect for me. I don’t expect you to fix me. I just want you.”

“(Y/N)—” Dean cut himself off, tears welling in his eyes, “I can’t be the guy I was before— before I—”

“Dee,” you tried to assure him as you grabbed his hand. “Listen to me.” You put your hand on the side of his cheek to guide his eyes to yours. A small wet spot formed on your skin where Dean’s tear had fallen, and you brushed your thumb across his cheek. “I don’t want you to be the guy you were before. I don’t need him. I need you exactly as you are today. Okay?”

He nodded. 

“The version of you that existed a year ago couldn’t help the me I am now,” you explained. “And I know what you’ll say— that this is the sappiest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever heard in your life— but it’s the truth; something keeps pulling us together. Something is always pulling us together. I mean, with as often as I’ve run off, somehow we always end up right back here.” You took a deep breath. “All that to say, you, Dean Winchester, are the only thing I need right now.”

Dean sniffled, a slight smirk forming on his face as he reached up to grab your hand off his cheek. “You were right,” he said. “That was the sappiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You shoved his shoulder playfully with your free hand. “Asshole.”

A chuckle rumbled deep in Dean's chest. “But you love me.”

You smiled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Yeah, I do.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-nesmith @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[lopposting]

The major question of the story that we are now asking:

Why, exactly, does Carlo never "wake up"?

[long post]

[Spoilers ahead]

Well, simply put - Because he is dead.

OK, that seems like too obvious an answer, but I'll elaborate, and bear with me here. I want to recap some elements first so you know where I'm coming from, but I'm also trying not to completely explain everything because that's way too hard and would be too long.

[Currently, we don't understand everything about the story or its meaning. Because of some of the shrouded nature of the lore and narrative, it leaves much mystery. But from viewing these questions and the story from a thematic standpoint, something unexpected and really cool happened. I found that the story and the lore opened up in reverse.]

The easiest way to explain the plot (in my opinion):

It was my impression that Geppetto never “started” the puppet frenzy. The puppets were NEVER breaking the grand covenant, interpretably they are protecting humans by stopping the spread of the petrification disease, it’s just that everyone in the city was infected by that point. 

Now with the puppets killing everybody in a city where everyone was infected (ergo being the result of the disease) Simon can go around harvesting all that ergo and Geppetto presumably plays him by letting Simon collect the Ergo first, and then sending P to kill him. [again, these details may not be completely accurate, but bear with me here]

Why create P in the first place?

He's made in Carlo's image so to speak because Geppetto hopes that Carlo's spirit will awaken. This is also why P is never bound to the covenant (it seems that not being bound to robot laws makes puppet egos awaken faster, since awakened puppets can break the grand covenant). So that is the two functions of P, to destroy puppets for ergo to harvest and so Carlo's consciousness can restore. I was just guessing that the arm of god was enough to get Carlo to revive, and Carlo's mental spirit reviving would be helpful but not entirely necessary. But for reasons we don't understand, Carlo never does regain consciousness.

Geppetto bitterly tells us that we don't seem to have inherited Carlo's memories. There is no big moment where Pinocchio or Pino or P reawakens, fully, as Carlo. He isn’t treated by the story as him. During the course of the game, P struggles to forge his own identity, to become a real boy, despite starting as a copy of the original. It’s a very fitting parable for the genre identity of a soulslike.

However, there are other successful re-incarnations of people through puppets, namely Sophia at the end of the Rise ending. We ask, for consistency's sake, why are puppet-form Romeo and puppet-form Sophia assumed to have retained their original identities, but not Pino? This is just my personal interpretation of why Carlo just couldn't or doesn't wake up. It isn't really based any lore or deduction from story details, this is from more of a philosophical point of view. And it isn't just the luck of the draw.

I had some initial thoughts about Carlo's failure. Romeo was made with intention of continuing to fight against the disease, as it's told that he "made a deal with the devil". Sophia may have been a special case, as she is a listener (Arlecchino even refers to her as the goddess in the tower), she may have had an ergo identity so strong that her essential self could retain this process. But either way, the implication is that Pino may have been able to recover her not long after that final fight. Look at the nameless puppet. The state of Carlo's body is so poor, that more than not his body seems to have been replaced with puppet parts. I think the implication was that Geppetto had been replacing parts as they rotted away. Maybe he had simply been dead for too long. But again, this isn't exactly why I think he couldn't awaken.

Simon and Geppetto

Lies has two main antagonists, although one isn't completely revealed until the last section. Both Simon and Geppetto are the perpetrators of Krat's destruction, but for what seems like different reasons. Simon is trying to be reborn, and Geppetto is trying to revive his dead son, Carlo. Interpretably, they are both trying to become Gods. Simon by grasping the supernatural, cosmic power of one, and Geppetto by raising the dead. They have destroyed Krat in their attempt to become a god, or more succinctly put, attempting to become God, singular. Geppetto's goal is, in essence, the same as Simon's goal - Because bringing back the dead would make him God.

That's why it seemed all so confusing. Haven't Geppetto and the alchemists already raised the dead, as Pino does at the end of the Rise ending with Sophia? Sophia, Romeo, and Carlo were all afflicted with the disease. Their Ergo were all made into puppets, but there's a minor but important distinction here. Sophia is still alive in her condition and actively suffering, this is the reason why she asks us to end her life. It seems as though Romeo lost his friend to the disease, and then made a "deal with the devil" to continue fighting, this implies being made into the king of puppets. We collected Sophia's ergo while she was alive, which we then used to animate the puppet. So the three of them were afflicted with the petrification disease. Sophia perished, Romeo perished, but Carlo died.

Now if we see the sand memories section of the beach, the stalker's words start to gain some clarity. If Carlo died from an incurable disease that the stalker couldn't prevent, why is she too late? Perhaps the goal was never to "save" Carlo's life. She laments; That she was too late, NOT to "save" him, but for him to be able to be restored. The stalker seemed to understand that whatever procedure needed to be done would be useless past the point of death.

I have to admit that there was something that I thought could override my theory. It seems as though the alchemists already were able to bring back both Champion Victor and The Eldest of the BRB, and from the dead no less. We read from notes in the Grand Exhibition that Victor had caught the disease, died to the despair of his adoring fans, but then miraculously made a comeback somehow stronger than ever. But maybe - he had only appeared to be brought back from the dead to the public, as Victor sought the help of the alchemists. And when it comes to the Eldest in the coffin, I'm wondering if he was actually only mortally wounded, leading the brotherhood to consult with the alchemists. [The way he was carried out by his brothers too (shouldered on either side) isn't typically the way you would expect people would handle a dead person]

Mirroring Sophia, Romeo, and Pinocchio, who were made into puppets: There is Champion Victor, The Eldest, and Nameless Puppet. We can see the former three as Geppetto's method of "cheating" God (cheating Death), and the latter three as alchemists' method. Only "Carlo" has a form in either one - The Nameless Puppet and the player, P. The Nameless puppet appears to share a similar undead quality with Victor and The Eldest of the BRB (including the tubes). We know that the collected Ergo can animate puppets, They are puppeting around their own dead bodies.

I feel like the Nameless Puppet tells us in a poetic way that Carlo is gone. My thoughts on this are more abstract. Again, this isn't from a factual analysis, but more of from viewing the Nameless Puppet itself as a metaphor. The Nameless puppet has qualities similar to the other undead bosses, yet the game doesn't describe it like it does Victor and the Eldest. It's not a body. It is a puppet [Human on the outside, mechanical on the inside - the inverse of our protagonist]. And straight in the text, we are told this is "The Nameless Puppet". But we know who Carlo was. His name was Carlo. We split open its head, and there are only cold, mechanical parts, instead of what we in the modern world now regard as the very most essential self (the brain). Because there was nothing to recover, there is no one there. Carlo's spirit had long, long since departed the world.

We are also told through one of the game's narrative devices that the Nameless puppet was the first puppet fitted with the organ. Ostensibly, Carlo's body was being prepared for whatever procedure that needed to take place, but Carlo died before that could happen (perhaps thankfully), and Geppetto pushed forward with his plans anyway, perhaps past the point of no return.

There are two forms of revival and we represent one of them, as in, there was the puppet form of Carlo and the undead form of Carlo. Presumably, the undead form was incredibly destructive, and thus stored away; We are the second try for Carlo's rebirth, this time in the puppet form, but we cannot even wake up without the aid of Sophia.

Lies, God, and the Finality of Death

But doesn't Geppetto actually succeed in one of the endings? Simon fails to become a god, (well, presumably only because we kill him in the process of doing so) and then we confront Geppetto. If we hand over our heart, Geppetto actually does revive Carlo. We see the resurrected Carlo, but with one simple smile we realize this isn't the Carlo the game has been leading us to believe existed. This ending leaves us with distrust and unease rather than a sense of peace and resolution. Simon fails to become a god, and at the bad ending - even if he "wins" - the game makes us wonder if So does Geppetto. No matter what, Carlo could NEVER be truly, and in both senses of the word, honestly, be revived.

[Simon Manus - like Simon Magus, the biblical figure who tries to buy into the supernatural power of God. And Geppetto, of course alluding to the 1883 italian novel The Adventures of Pinocchio - a puppet master, a creator indeed, but of wooden imitations of life, and a poor imitation of God]

So, why I think Carlo could not wake up? Because whatever needed to happen could not be done after the actual point of death, and Sophia and Romeo's hearts were both transferred before they actually died. His spirit had long gone from this world. Krat has methods of eternal life, but these transfers happened while they were still alive. While the alchemists and Geppetto could certainly cheat death (as we maybe even would with modern day medicine), they could not defeat it. Carlo can no longer wake up, Carlo can never wake up again, because he is dead.

[messymoonmad]

If you were to ever make anymore suitor designs would Leodes be one of them? I read one (1) fanfiction that included him in it and I have unfortunately become attached

Here’s the Wikipedia article about him

I can imagine him trying to tell everyone what’s gonna happen if they stick around only for Antinous to shush him or talk over him because he deems himself more important than whatever Leodes is trying to say lmao

I plan on re-listening to the odyssey audiobook to get a better understanding of all the characters (and to make parodies)

Currently not interested in this dude tho so I won't draw him unless I come up with a funny joke about him

[luvrxbunny]

rough

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: You're confronted with the town's opinions.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smoking (weed), lots of feelings, (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.6k

a/n: if you've read my fic 'soft' then you've read this already

|| pt.1 || pt.2 || pt.3 || pt.4 ||

You just want to fuck him already. It’s been months now, of this back and forth. To be clear, you do still want him romantically, how could you not? This man, when his hair is fluffy and soft just like him. When you see his expression now light up when you walk into the room. When he builds you little trinkets in the shop, instead of doing the job he was assigned to. When he makes your favorite for dinner after finding out that you’re having a bad day. When he plans movie nights featuring your favorites that he could find on DVD. 

How could you not love him?

It scares you. The “situation-ship” you both were currently in started a few months ago. Actually… It started exactly four months and three weeks ago. There’s no point in pretending you haven’t kept track. Joel told you that he needed time. You would have never expected it to be this much time but you’ve grown to love and crave him over the months.

He listened to what you said at the bar that night. He’s been giving you so much affection it’s actually making the other women in the community quite jealous of you. He hasn’t kissed you yet but he kisses your cheek, your forehead, and- when he’s drunk or high enough- your neck. You don’t kiss him anymore. You’ve kissed his cheek a few times over the months, his head once when he was sick but other than that you try to keep to yourself. You’re still a bit traumatized from his first rejection, the way it played out, and everything. You’d rather just not risk it.  

You’re in the garden and he’s in the field. You’re planting flowers, pulling and re-planting vegetables while Joel is harvesting the wheat he planted four months ago and tilling the land for the new seeds. You keep looking over at him, you really can’t help it at this point. 

The sun is shining through his hair, making it a dark golden color with streaks of white running through it. His arms are smudged from handling the dirt all day and his biceps flex repeatedly as he picks the kernels off of the wheat and throws them into his basket. His eyebrows are creased and his eyes squinted to avoid the burning light of the sun and he keeps looking over at you. He really can’t help it at this point. 

You look so beautiful, sitting on your knees with your adorably mismatched gardening gloves. Your hair falls so angelically every time you lean forward to lead a new plant to its home. Every time you sit back up you use the back of your wrist to shove the hair from your face, sputtering out, trying to get your hair out of your mouth and it's so endearing. Your arms are dirty and he feels the incredibly odd urge to bathe you. He’s ready to love you. He’s so fucking ready but he has no clue- not even the slightest- as to how he should tell you. 

The current supervisor calls it a day and you almost fall face-first into the plants in your scramble to get to Joel. He’s taking off his gloves, flexing and stretching his fingers when he sees you rushing toward him with a huge smile he can’t help but mirror. “Hey, darlin’. You look so beautiful today.”

You freeze where you stand which luckily isn’t too far from Joel. He makes his way over to you, watching your expression. He loves it so much, he doesn’t understand how he never noticed it before. The way you always take a deep, shaking breath, your eyebrows go inward and you give him this look. He doesn’t understand it yet but it always makes him ache for you, makes him burn somewhere in the depths of his being to just be with you. He doesn’t know how long he can resist it. He doesn't want to. He doesn’t.

“I’m- I think I really- I just really wanna kiss you.” You snap out of your daze and your eyes focus on him, hopeful for a moment then a little dull. You turn your head, give him your cheek, close your eyes, and wait for the gentle kiss but nothing happens. You slowly open your eyes and look at him, he looks scared. “I wanna kiss you.”

You can hear your heart speed up, your breaths getting shorter and your thoughts more jumbled. He wants to kiss me? You’re confused for a moment, not understanding what brought this on. You’re eyes slip from his contact as you lose yourself in your thoughts, not realizing the silence you’re creating or the anxiety you’re causing. But Joel realizes, he’s sweating more than he has all day as he waits for you to say something, do something. He shifts his weight from foot to foot before giving up. “We don’t have to… I just- I wanted to…” He tries and fails to keep the sadness out of his voice.

His words strike fear in you and you reach out to grip his arm, hoping it’s enough to stop him from walking away. “Y-You wanna kiss me? On the… on the lips?” He’s surprised by your voice, it sounds far away, loose, and airy.

“I do.” It comes out with no hesitation, no stutters, no pause. You take a step closer to him and his expression twitches, his chest beginning to heave with anticipation. 

“I would really love that, Joel.” You’re staring up at him now, as best you can in the sun. You’re looking into his eyes, an excited, mischievous glint in your eyes, challenging him, daring him to do something. And he loses his nerve. 

“Oh! Okay. Thats… Thats good. I- I want you to come over later, alright? I’ll get us some weed and alc. You don’t need to bring snacks or nothin’ either jus- jus bring yourself, alright? Okay, see you then.” And with that, he walked off. His cheeks were absolutely burning. He couldn’t believe himself 

‘That's good’? What the fuck is wrong with you, Miller? Leaving that darlin’ girl standing in the sun like that? It just ain’t right, she’s so sweet on you and you fuckin’ know it. Why am I doin’ this to her… 

You’re watching Joel walk away. A bit stunned by the whole interaction, confusion, and questions swarm your head the whole walk home. They stick with you in the shower and as you get ready to head over to Joel’s. They accompany you on the whole walkover as well.

Maybe he wants me to do something… I know people like it rough, so maybe he wants me to take charge? He doesn’t really seem the type. Does this mean he wants me now? Will he kiss me tonight? Is that why he invited me over? Are we gonna have sex? Oh god, I hope so. I’d treat him so well- or maybe I wouldn’t… everyone likes it rough. 

You’ve reached his block when you’re stopped by Susan; Joel’s biggest admirer. She places herself in front of you, blocking your path and forcing you to talk to her.  “Oh, he’s not in, hun.”

You take a calming breath and try not to roll your eyes at her. “Okay… Well, I’m gonna check, just in case.” You turn your steps and try to make your way around her only for her to place herself right back in your way. 

“I’m gonna be honest I- I don’ really get this whole thing with you an’ him. I just- I guess I don’ really see it… Do ya’ know what I mean?” You glare at her, ignoring her statement and waiting for her to just get out of your way. “I mean…” She steps closer to you. “I remember when you first got here…” 

You can feel shame and embarrassment curl in your stomach at the mention of your arrival. You weren’t in the best place, mentally, and you did a lot- a lot- of things that you wished you hadn’t, lots of men you wished you hadn’t. “Don’t be an ass, Susan.” She backs away from you, a sinister smile on her face and her hands in the air. 

“Hey! I’m” She laughs. “I’m jus sayin’... You were interested in a lot of different men.” You start walking, refusing to listen to what she has to say. But the psycho bitch follows you. “I mean are you even sure that it’s him that you want? Weren’t you with Jared just a few months ago? I mean…” 

You’re speed-walking to Joel’s now. You’re only a house away when she hops in front of you again. “Hun! I told you he ain’t home! I’m just-” She sighs and lowers her head as you crane your neck, hoping and praying Joel had made his way to the porch by now. But he hasn’t. “If you just want a man I can set you up with some of my friends! Some people who are… Gosh! How do I say this without bein’ rude? Some people who are more in your… lane… league?” Your head whips back at her, fury raging in your eyes at her audacity. 

“Excuse me?” You question, low and threatening. “Well. Hun, c’mon now, don’t get all bent outta shape, I mean well! You and I both know Joel is too… hmm, well. He’s too good for you I guess.” You’re not staring at her, you’ve turned your head to the patch of sky you can see through the trees beside you, choosing to count the stars instead of listening to this shit. 

“I’d strongly disagree.” You can hear her gasp and spin around as a smile spreads over your face. Joel. 

“Oh! I- I thought you weren’t home, sugar.” She tries to lean into him but he walks around her and grabs your arm, pulling you past her with a mumble of ‘Yeah. I know.’, ending the conversation. 

Joel doesn’t speak until he’s gotten you inside. “I dunno why you listen to that woman. She spews nothin’ but garbage.” You watch him dart from cupboard to cupboard to retrieve his lighter and a little joint you can tell he rolled because it’s dented in the middle. “She’s always saying some dumb shit. I fuckin’ hate it.” 

His eyebrows are furrowed and his face is hard as he lights it up. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him so angry. You watch the tension fall from his shoulders, his face relaxing as he inhales. You take your shoes off, still watching him as a small smile spreads over his face and he exhales. “Are you gonna share Joel?” You ask as he goes in for another hit. 

“Hey-  Be nice darlin’ it’s mine after all.” He teases while handing it to you. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting next to where he’s leaning as you take a drag. 

“Yours schmours, you’ll be fine.” He giggles- giggles- at your statement, his hand coming up to cover his smile as he laughs. All you can see are his pretty brown eyes, the creases around them, and the way they almost shut while he laughs. You feel your heart race, bringing along that urge that has gotten you in trouble many times over. Your eyes flicker to his lips and you immediately avert your gaze, taking another hit to try and calm yourself. 

You wait for him to come back up from his designated, folded, laughing position and hold the joint out for him. You snort at the misshapen stick, causing you to choke on the smoke you were holding. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what you get for laughing. Mhm.” You’re coughing up a lung as he says this, making the situation worse because you cannot stop laughing at him. He continues his remarks after taking a hit, you’re still choking and laughing, and you hold an arm out to him. 

“Joel-” You cough. “Joel-” You laugh. “Joel, stop it. I’m- oh fuck.” You start coughing again in a way that has Joel turning to face you, amusement and a bit of concern on his face. “Oh my god, stop. I’m gonna die, don’t make me laugh- oh my god.” 

He’s beaming at you, proud that you find him so funny and the high really hitting him. You can tell, his eyes are a bit hazy and his eyebrows are raised for some reason. He walks towards you when your fit dies down, pushing himself between your legs with a dazed look on his face. He’s just staring at your thighs for a moment, his head turning from left to right so he can look at both of them before looking up at you. Your heart is thrumming out of your chest as you try to keep your expression neutral, maybe a bit inquisitive. He stares at your lips for a bit before you see his hand raising with the joint. He brings it to your lips and looks back up at your eyes, his eyebrows jump, prompting you to inhale. 

You take a long hit, trying to get as much smoke as you can, hoping it will calm you down. His eyes stay on yours, darkening as his breathing becomes a bit shallow. He pulls the joint away from your lips and puts it out right onto the counter before bringing his hand up to your cheek. 

You haven’t exhaled yet, savoring the hit while he slowly brings your face to his. You’re watching his eyes, still on yours as he pulls you in. You begin to exhale, not wanting to hold the smoke in if he’s going to kiss you. That’s when he pushes your lips together. You try not to choke as he sucks the smoke out of your mouth and pulls away. You’re in a stupor as he grins at you and breathes your smoke out, re-lighting the fire in the pit of your stomach, the one that always seems to flare whenever he’s around.

“What’d ya think of that, huh? Good kiss or?” He’s wearing a smirk but his eyes are uncertain at your silence. You keep it up, not saying anything, just pulling him back in and smashing your lips into his. He accepts your kiss with a grunt from the force of it as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in. 

You’re gripping his hair like it's your lifeline, gripping his face like it’ll fall apart otherwise, it hurts a little but he’s fond of your eagerness. Your hands slide onto his shoulders and you dig your fingers into his skin brutally, pulling a wince from him. He separates your lips and strokes over your cheek with his thumb, admiring you. It's a soft, tender moment until you yank him by his belt loops, crashing him against the counter painfully to whisper in his ear. “I want you, Joel”

He smiles at this and kisses you again as you undo his belt. You remove it from the loops and let it drop to the ground so you can get to work on his button and zipper. You feel his lips stutter against yours and he pulls away, confused. “Not- not here, darlin’. ‘M not gonna do this in the kitchen.” He sounds a bit confused as he grips your hips and lifts you off of the counter and back onto the floor. They come back up to cradle your face again as he places a quick, soft kiss on your lips. “ ‘M gonna make love to you in my room, on my bed, baby.”

Make love...?

What?

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist! or send me some motivation here!

🏷️ : @hiroikegawa

[ckret2]

I love your writing so much oh my gosh! :D It does make me sad that there will be no karaoke night flashbacks do to the fact this was written pre TBOB however. :( Also If I may ask, could Bill have called Kyptos back or...? Would he have needed to re-do the entire summoning and run out of time before Ford would come in? If so, could he not just do the summoning again at night when everyone is asleep? I am sure Kyptos would eventually pic up phone if he had been bothered enough. Also,

vivian-za-determined-luna-moth asked: -Could Bill break any windows? Perhaps Bill was simply bluffing when he asked if Stan wanted a broken window? I understand not breaking that one considering the long fall and fragile nature of human leg bones however, there should be a handful of windows on the second floor. If he made the statement about the window, then he probably knew how easily they shatter. Did he forget how to break one? Apologies If I sound rude, I simply love your work and am really invested. Toodaloo!

Hey, that doesn't rule out the possibility there could be a future flashback to karaoke night. I don't currently have plans to but it wouldn't be surprising for it to come up eventually.

Yes, Bill would have had to do the whole ritual again to call Kyrptos back; and nah, if Bill had called back, Kryptos would have taken one look at the weird human lady and gone "oh YOU again" and hung up, and probably just stopped answering if he kept getting calls. I'm sure there's some way to turn on a psychic "do not disturb" setting or block a particular caller or something. Bill was right not to try calling Kryptos again without a way to ensure he'd listen.

(This is a subtle hint that Bill is going to find a way to ensure he listens.)

Bill is physically and mentally capable of breaking a glass pane. Under the terms of the no doors no windows curse on him, he's magically prevented from realizing breaking the glass could help him get out the window. If he threatens to break a window, it's like threatening to break a mirror, a chair, or a TV: he doesn't think it would help him escape, it's just a threat of property destruction he thinks the Pines would want to avoid. Because of that, he probably wouldn't actually do it unless he thinks the potential benefit outweighs the potential punishment.

If he did break a window, he'd be surprised and confused to see that the window's now "open" and he can get through it. It would be like if he kicked a football and a fruitcake materialized in his hands. Absolutely no logical connection between the action and the result.

He would be incapable of deliberately repeating the "if I break the glass, somehow it opens the window" feat; the curse would prevent him from making any "X opens the window/door" connections. If he broke another window, he'd be surprised again to discover that opens the window. But as long as he consciously recalls that breaking the glass opens the window, he'd be unable to break the glass again even if opening the window wasn't his actual goal. He'd have to momentarily forget about that side effect.

As long as he's cursed, he's not getting through a closed door/window unless he can completely psychologically divorce his current action from any resemblance to the idea of opening a door/window.

But hey, that's not impossible. You read chapter 6. You know Bill can find ways through unopenable doors.

(And if you haven't reached the chapter where he figures it out—you will soon.)

[writing-for-life]

When Desire Stops Being The Villain

I’m currently re-reading (for the felt 100th time, and I might not even be far off 🤣) “Brief Lives”, both for a meta I have in the making and also for the sequel to my fic.

And we are so often talking about how deliberate Dream (and by extension Neil Gaiman) is in the choice of his words. And as I said, I’ve read Brief Lives so many times, but this time, I’ve done it specifically with the conceptual sibling relationships in mind, and I’d just like to draw attention to this panel:

Dream very explicitly says, “I have no desire to do this, my sister.”

Very often (and probably also deliberately due to a) who he is and b) the strained sibling-relationship), he will choose words like “wish” instead. But here, he speaks of the absence of desire.

And you cannot tell me that’s not a deliberate choice of words. If we look at this conceptually, and think about how Desire wants to lead him into his downfall, we see a very notable change throughout the whole arc of Brief Lives:

They warned him at the beginning not to go with Delirium (“tell the little gleet to buzz off”)

They told Tiffany that they tried to talk sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen (that whole thing about not having the sense to come in from the rain)

After Dream killed Orpheus, Despair tells Desire it’s not their doing (and there’s also significance here that they meet in Despair’s realm, not the Threshold). And they admit they should feel elated he spilled family blood, but that they don’t. That they thought it’s what they wanted, but they didn’t. That they’re scared.

And then they proceed to float in an eyeball to basically mourn (and what and whom they think about is set up to be a bit ambiguous, but it truly isn’t).

But back to the panel:

Desire is not there. They are not part of the plan to spill family blood anymore, like they were with Rose (which also isn’t straightforward; I wrote about this before in a roundabout way).

They are not part of Dream’s final descent. The final nails in the coffin all come from Dream himself (and are mirrored, as we all know, in his relationships to Delirium, Destiny and Destruction at this point. Despair and Death are obviously in there to, but more after the fact, so to speak). Well, to be frank, they always did.

But the one either being notably absent or actively trying to prevent Dream giving in to Delirium (see what I did there?), seeking Destruction or talking to Orpheus is the supposedly least likely candidate. The one we so often think would want Dream to do all these things so it leads to his demise.

I’m not saying that the others don’t have their moments. Both Destiny and Destruction do in a roundabout way, but conceptually, they just aren’t particularly helpful for someone in Dream’s state of mind. And of course Del with her moment of clarity when she gets him up from falling to his knees in Destiny’s garden. But there is more metaphor than you can shake a stick at in that one, too, and conceptually, the message is not straightforward. Because it gives us a lot to think about if Delirium, clear or not, gets you back on your feet after you buckle under the weight of what you are supposedly… destined to do, but that just as an aside.

Desire’s and Dream’s relationship is so complex (as are all the sibling relationships), and I’d just like to encourage everyone to have the occasional stab at reading all these bits through a slightly different lens, and understanding that their relationship is not just straightforward hate.

It’s incredibly tragic, and I feel inclined to say for both.

[i-have-no-idea-for-name]

Oh God, oh my dear God, I can't believe that after almost 5 years I'm finally going to post my thundercats fankids (and ocs) .... oh God-

Allllllllllllright, so I'll start from the babies:

- LeeChee - Lion-o and Cheetara's daughter and the future queen of New Thundera (I'll explain about the New Thundera in a moment)

she's a bit like Kiara from Lion King, she's a very energetic and happy child like her dad and also really fast like her mom (they love racing each other 💖) she really wants to be like her parents and she hopes that she'll be as good as her dad and he assures her that she'll be much better than him, her relationship with Lion-o is like Simba and Kiara 💖💖💖💖

her weapon is a scepter which has half of the Eye of Thundera in it and works more or less like a wand, she's learning magic✨

- Barter - Panthro and Barbastella's son, LeeChee's bestie and her future knight hehe, he's an adventure kid, he's really brave and strong like his dad

he loves swords and Lion-o trains him, him and LeeChee have a very strong relationship, they spend their whole lives together, they even slept in the same crib when they were babies (and yes, they share bedroom)

as you may noticed, he loves swords so it's obvious that his weapon is a sword lol

- Melinoe (Mel) - she's the daughter of Tygra and Mumm-ra but her biological parents are Mumm-ra and Mumm-rana, it's a bit complicated hehe...

quick explanation: so Tygra and Mumm-ra wanted a baby and they went to Mumm-rana for help and she was like: "ok, I'll help you to have a baby, I know a good spell" she did some magic in her magic water and showed them that they both had to put their hands in the water, but Mumm-ra was in a hurry to put his hands in the water while hers were still in it and she was like "no wait-" *BOOM* baby

.... I know, it's crazy but that's my world hehehehe, anyway, when Tygra saw her he was like: "I love this baby, she's my everything, my whole world and I will kill anybody that would ever want to hurt her" his relationship with Mel is like Stolas and Octavia :3333 💖💖💖💖

(her name is based on the daughter of Persephone and Hades/Zeus who has a similar appearance description, one half of her body is pristinely clean representing her mother and the other half is dark representing her father)

she's a very nice girl and is also very close with LeeChee and Barter, they're a trio of three little monsters who have brought endless joy to their family's life 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Now my 2 ocs:

- Kira - God, I don't know where to start, she's a very complicated character... so she's modeled on a Polish eagle, she's immortal, more precisely, she's 1052 years old, her real name is Karolina like mine but she just prefers that nickname :P, I still don't know how she met the cats, but she currently lives with them and is part of their family 💖

she formed a very strong bond with Tygra and they became besties, she (not counting Mumm-ra) was practically the first person who started to really listen to him and understand him (she's not exactly like him, they have A LOT of differences but they still understand each other)

she has magic and planned to rebuild Thundera and since she's the embodiment of good, she also wanted to rebuild Plundarr, which Tygra didn't like very much, they argued about it, but Kira ultimately won hehe

even though the Thundercats are somewhat of a protectors themselves, she's their protector, she truly loves and cares for them 💖💖💖💖

(also about her outfit.... her dress is based on Srena's Butterfly dress, @flx-res character and I feel really bad that her dress is so simillar cause literally the only things I changed was the flowers color and I made the inside of her dress red and they're the only differences wich makes me feel really bad that I just stole that outfit, even the pose is the same 😭😭😭😭 I'll try my best to change that like adding some things like a belt, again, I'm really sorry 😞)

- Mike - let me start by saying that he's simply a total dick (lol) he's Kira's husband and they're just like Stolas and Stella but swapped, he's modeled on a German eagle and their relationship is just Poland and Germany's XD

he's my main antagoist and he really hates Kira, he wants her dead but he can't kill her because they're immortal, you can stick a dagger into their bodies and they'll bleed and they may be unconscious for a while but in a moment they'll be reborn like a phoenix (I took this headcanon from the fact that Poland is compared to a phoenix that was always reborn after its fall)

he and Kira are from another dimension and one of the reasons she ended up on Third Earth is because she wanted to hide from him but they both know that he knows she's there lol

one day he came to the Mutants with an offer they couldn't refuse, offering them to rebuild Plundarr in exchange for defeating Kira, which had only benefits for them because they would not only get their home back but also defeat the Thundercats so he became their new boss (Vultureman didn't really liked that, sure he wanted Plundarr back and to defeat Thundercats but he didn't want to hurt Kira cause he's madly in love with her)

and here I don't know how to do it, but I want him to suddenly change at some point and want to redeem himself, I thought it would be after Kira wants to sacrifice herself for him, I just want them to be finally happy after all these years (they really need a separate post, it's too much 😭😭😭😭)

Ok it's too much, let me explain the rest later 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[cyberphuck]

ROYAL ASSASSIN ABRIDGED: PART TWO

My friend Razz wants to understand my shitposting about Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy, but they don’t want to actually have to read the books, so I’m summarizing it for them (and you)! (Check out all the other entries in the Farseer Trilogy Abridged series at the masterpost. Also if you think I’m funny you can send me a ko-fi from there.)

EDIT: added some strikethroughs where they were supposed to go and put something funny where I had just left the reminder to write something funny. Last Time on Dragon Book Z (rip Toriyama sensei), Fitz finally made it home from the mountains. He’d seen via Skill-o-Vision that Molly had been viked by Vikings, and he was desperate to see if she’d flagged herself ‘safe’ from Being Raided on Facebook…

The next day, Fitz is minding his own business being told by Cook Sara that he looks like shit when he spontaneously decides to climb sixty four flights of stairs. Considering that his tiny teenaged body is still 89% poison by volume and he just got home from the worst road trip of his life (so far!), by the time he gets to the top he's facedown on the floor, pushing himself along by his toes.

  “Hello, Lil Accident,” Verity says, putting down his binoculars. “Wow, you look like shit.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Fitz mumbles to the floor. ”You look a lot less skeletal than when I last saw you.“

  ”Thanks! I had sex.“

  Fitz tries to get up and fails. ”I didn't even know you'd be up here.”

  “Aha, but you see, I Skilled you here, and you didn't even know it. In fact I've been balls-deep in your brain for a week with you none the wiser, because this is a thing I can do with the Skill.“

  Fitz spits out a mouthful of dust. ”Wow, when do I get to learn that kind of thing?“

  ”Never,“ Verity smiles, turning back to the window. ”Come look at my ships.“

  Dragging himself up to the windowsill, Fitz peeks out. “Neat! We'll be able to defend ourselves against the Vikings with these for sure!“

  ”Yes,” Verity growls. “And I can't wait to continue the cycle of violence by going all the way to the Viking home planet and viking them back!“

  Somewhere downstairs, the Fool rubs his temples, sighing loudly.

  ”Anyway, now that I've forced you to climb all the way up here, let's go back down so I can get something to eat.” Verity picks Fitz up by the scruff of his neck. “I want to hear all about your little trip to the Big Onion.“

  They head down to Verity's man cave, and after watching 'ASSASSIN'S APPRENTICE ENDING EXPLAINED— WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO AUGUST,' Verity reads the comments, most of which point out that Regal should have totally died in a fire for plotting to kill his own brother and murdering a bunch of the wedding party.

  Fitz looks at the hay bale in the corner, where the Fool is updating his Linkedin. ”Listen, I have a way bigger part in this book than the last one,“ the Fool says without looking up. ”I'm not gonna have time to re-explain who everybody is to you whenever you want. I've got a big death scene coming up.“

  ”You're going to die?!“ Fitz cries.

  ”Someone is,“ the Fool murmurs.

  ”You're probably wondering why I haven't punished Regal for any of the stuff he did last book,“ Verity says, steepling his fingers. ”And the truth is, I'm not going to, because he'll just throw a temper tantrum about it and I don't want to deal with that.“

  ”What if he tries to kill one of us again?“

  ”Pff, don't worry about it, Lil Accident.“ Verity waves him off. ”You can take tomorrow off to go look for your dead girlfriend.“

  Fitz stands up. ”Thanks Prince Verity, I'm gonna go have a seizure before bed.“

  But as soon as he steps out of the room, Lacey jumpscares him and drags him off to go see Lady Patience, who is laying in a pile of her current hyperfixations. ”You missed the wedding,” she says accusingly.

  ”Sorry, Mrs. My Dead Dad's Wife,“ Fitz sighs. ”Regal tried to, uh, do whatever the opposite of poisoning me and trying to drown me is, and now whenever I get excited I fall over.“ He accepts a glass of wine from Lacey, then dumps it over his head. “I've gotta move on to the next plot point now.”

  Fitz is staggering up the stairs, leaving a wet smear of Rosé after him, when a Servant Girl comes to take his arm. “Here, sir,” she says sweetly. “Let me help you weave drunkenly back to your chambers. Wouldn't want you falling down the stairs and breaking your stupid lying neck.”

  “Thanks, mysterious servant girl. You can drop me off at the corner, I’ll walk from here.”

  But instead of letting him have a seizure in peace, the Servant Girl punches him in the gut and kicks him in the nads, because she's Molly!

  “Holy shit, you're alive!” Fitz sobs. “Oh man, I had a vision that you got viked, it was awful—”

  Molly kicks him in the nads again. “I did get viked, and afterwards I came here looking for you to ask you to loan me some cash, or get married to me. My dumb ass went around to all the servants going 'hey, have you seen the scribe's apprentice, he looks just like FitzChivalry Farseer,' and someone filmed me and made a TikTok titled 'tfw you find out your boyfriend is really The Bastard.'”

  “Oh,” Fitz cringes.

  “Yeah 'oh,'” Molly says. “It has sixteen million views and hashtag Cat-Fitzed is trending on Twitter.”

  “It's called X now,” Fitz squeaks. “What about the older, hotter guy I saw you walking off with?“

  ”That was my cousin,“ Molly snarls. ”Do you think I'd date someone with an earring?“

  “Gosh, it's a good thing I don't wear one of those,” Fitz says, polishing his collar.

  ”Anyway, you're gross and I hate you,“ Molly declares. ”Do not, under any circumstances, continue to attempt to woo me. Goodbye.”

  Despite Fitz's best efforts, he continues to have a seizure any time he tries to do anything except have a seizure. Even into the next day, he's still ragdolling like a character in a seventy dollar video game on release day. The Fool appears briefly to catch a glimpse of Fitz in his underwear, but before they can do any real flirting, Lacey and Patience show up again.

  “Listen, Prince Dumbass,” Patience says, “you fucked up bigtime letting Molly think she was in your league. She came here thinking you'd grown up in a double-wide same as her, drinking off-brand kool aid and saving butter containers to use as tupperware. When people found out you lied to her, they started calling her a hump-and-dump.”

  “But we never even humped,” Fitz objects.

  “And it's a good thing, too, because as royalty you're only allowed to hump at the King's pleasure. Princes are not allowed to run around sticking their dick in whoever they want, that's how we ended up with you. You'd just make a bunch more Fitzes, and we don't have enough paid extras anymore to traumatize *all* of those kids.”

  “We could drown them,” Lacey suggests, working on a cross-stitch that says 'GALS BEING PALS.'

  ”They wouldn't be Fitzes if me and miss Molly got married,“ Fitz says. ”I'll just go and do that real quick.“

  Patience whacks him in the head with a rolled up newspaper. ”No! You're going to marry whoever the King tells you to marry, and no one else. We learned our lesson with Chivalry: we can never, ever allow you to have any control over your life whatsoever, and that includes caring about anyone other than whoever is wearing a crown that day. Besides, didn't you already sign a contract to do whatever King Shrewd told you to do without question forever?”

  “I was nine, I don't really feel like that was binding—”

  Patience grabs Fitz by the front of his shirt and jerks him forward. “Do not,” she says, “have sex with Molly. Do NOT have sex with Molly. DO NOT HAVE SEX WITH MOLLY.”

  “No promises,” Fitz shrugs. “Hey, do you have a backstory other than being the ADHD widow of my deadbeat dad?”

  Patience runs away crying. As soon as she's gone, Chade shows up. “Hey,” he says gently. “Don't cry. Kettricken's dad roped her into a political marriage and now she's miserable and lonely. That can happen for you, too.”

  “This sucks,” Fitz moans.

  “Remember not to have sex with Molly,“ Chade says as he crawls back into his wall-hole.

  ”Whatever. I'm going down into town to find my soulmate.”

  Fitz, wearing his slouchiest beanie, his blackest hoodie, and his unhappiest expression of teenaged angst, stomps down the road into Buckkeep town, hands shoved in his pockets. “Stupid Farseers,” he mutters. ”Always hasslin' me and tellin' me what to do. What do they know? Man, nobody understands what it's like to be me.“

  *Oh, you you think you got it bad, little bitch boy?*

  The entire fandom erupts into cheers and applause as the character in possession of the single teaspoon of sense in the entire series arrives.

  Fitz looks up, snarling, and locks eyes with a wolf trapped in a cage labeled 'ESSENTIAL NPC'. The angry little ball of fluff is just one of many wares sold by a dude in a full body fursuit. “Good morrow, emo child,” Fursuit says, oozing greasily forward. “I see you eyeballing that young cub. You know, an animal like that could really be useful if, say, you were a royal Bastard with Doctor Doolittle magic who was sent out to fight zombies a lot.“

  ”I'll trade you a pack of gum for him,“ Fitz offers.

  ”He's worth way more than that,“ Fursuit says. ”I went through all the trouble of building a rocketship for his wolf-mother and wolf-siblings so they could return to their home planet.“

  *I'll kick your ass! I'll kick everyone's ass! I'll kick my own ass!!*

  *'Shut up, I'm negotiating!'*

  ”A pack of gum AND this cool rock I found,“ Fitz bargains expertly, then kicks Fursuit in the shin, grabs the wolf, and runs off.

  Fitz carries Wolfcub back up to Buckkeep, looking forward to the 'wrestling with a wild animal to show dominance' scene, but then realizes that the cub is too weak and tiny to put up a good fight. What was even the point of having a pet wolf if he couldn't have a badass fight with it and then stand shirtless against the sunrise? Also, Fitz has already had two canines in his life bond to him and then have to return to their home planets, and he's kind of tired of that happening.

  *'My apartment has a no pets policy, so you're gonna have to stay in the tool shed,'* he tells Wolfcub. *'Don't wit-bond to me.'*

  Then, with nothing better to do, he leaves to go do the thing Patience and Chade explicitly told him not to: Have Sex With Molly.  ”The fuck is wrong with you lately?“ Burrich asks, some days later while he and Fitz are hanging out at the bar.

  Fitz sighs. ”I keep trying to have sex with Molly, but things are always getting in the way of my dick," he says mournfully.

  ”Mm. Been there,“ Burrich mutters, pulling down his sleeve to cover up his 'PATIENCE CHIVALRY BITTERNESS AND BURRICH 4 EVER' tattoo. ”Which one is Molly?“

  ”The hot one that kicks people in the nuts.“

  ”Oh, yeah. Half my age. I like that in a girl,“ Burrich says, and everybody decides to just go with it. ”Here's my advice to you: give up and move on. Get your post-rejection glow up, and your girl will go off to marry someone else.“

  ”That sounds like it sucks,“ Fitz says doubtfully. “When do I finally get to have sex with her?”

  Burrich grins. “That's the neat thing! You don't.”

  The next morning, Fitz gets out of bed, takes a big, cleansing breath, then puts his earbuds in and turns on his Montage Song.

  “Time for that glow up,” he says really loudly because he can't hear himself over the music.

  'Cause baby you're a firework

Fitz wrapping measuring tape around his bicep and frowning;

come on and show 'em what you're worth

running laps around the castle with Wolfcub chasing after him;

make 'em go oh! oh! Oh!

standing on one foot like in Karate Kid while Pat Morita decomposes nearby;

as you you shoot across the sky-ay-ay

Burrich taking away his AXE body spray and shoving him into the shower;

baby you're a firework!

carb-loading at the local Fantasy Pizzeria;

come on and let your colors burst

lifting weights while Wolfcub tries to bite him;

make 'em go oh! oh! Oh!

measuring his bicep again, and nodding in satisfaction.

you're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

  “I'm bored,” Kettricken sighs as she and Fitz hang out with Kettricken's entourage. “I wish Verity would get me pregnant.“

  ”How can you be bored with fifty people constantly offering to play with you?“ Fitz says. ”Also, ew.“

  ”I could be back home fighting bears and lifting sacks over my head,” Kettricken whines, “but I'm stuck here in Lamesville with these boring losers and my husband is constantly off doing Skill stuff instead of having sex with me. Lady Modesty is constantly suggesting we watch the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice,” she adds, disgusted.

  Fitz slaps her. “Your job here isn't to be butch! This castle has been a fucking sausage party for years, and the best person to Girlboss it up is you. That means making moodboards, drinking iced coffees, doing each other's nails and YES, watching the objectively worse version of Pride and Prejudice! Look at Lady Hopeful, she's unironically singing along to 'I Knew You Were Trouble'! Now suck it up, buttercup, and go watch the part where Mr. Darcy confesses his love to Elizabeth!”

  “Yes sir,” Kettricken mumbles.

  “Bastard, first name The?“ a messenger says as he clips through the wall. ”King Shrewd finally wants to see you.“

  Fitz stands up, brushes himself off, and heads up to Grandpa's house...

[theolmtales]

What do you think of Alva, the Hermit?

I don’t have anything in particular for him. I’m currently re-doing my reading & analysis on all the characters & the essences stories, but I haven’t gotten to him yet so my opinion on him is subject to change. But that’s how I interpret the current lore for him:

He doesn’t want anything to do with human emotions. For him, they get in the way of research & understanding the truth. It’s emotions that ruined Herman & his son, Luca & put him as collateral damage. Since he got saved by the Eye of darkness, his only goal is to keep researching & convert people to his god. He chooses to become a hermit to convert people, but also to stay away from them. He can do his research in peace without getting distracted by futile matters. It’s like balancing duty with fun.

It would be best to be someone who doesn’t get easily, or even better completely, sway by their emotions. Even before dying he didn’t liked socializing & he was very pragmatic, it’s just worse now. He will constantly keep you at a distance. He doesn’t want to be betrayed again, there’s too much risk involved with human emotions. He will still try not to be too rude about it if you guys get along, but he will be direct.

If you show him that you’re in control of your emotions & doesn’t let them get in your way, you have your chances with him. But don’t expect him to put his emotions for you first. If the rational thing to do will hurt your feelings, he will still do it. He doesn’t feel guilt anymore. If you get angry to him about it, he will tell you to be pragmatic & that it was for the best. If you say you understand & just want to be comforted, he will do it. After all, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you (Thought that’s not a very healthy relationship for ya, but which idv characters actually as one anyway). But don’t expect him to change is mind on the matter, it won’t work.

Whether your interest lie in the same fields as him or not, he enjoys talking with you about it. Exchanging ideas, helping each other with your research (even if it’s a completely different scientific field) or just teaching you about it. If you’re willing to listen & learn he’s going teacher mode. You won’t escape the religious talk; he believes his gods is the truth & he’ll show you why. If he gets really into you, he won’t let you escape it, he has to make you join. Not realizing he’s letting his emotions control him in a different kind of way. I think I could see him getting attached in a twisted kind of way if it has to do with his religion. He’s still pragmatic, but it turned into an obsession (Ironic, that was the downfall of Herman).

Thinking about how he would be with someone who’s into sciences different to him made me think about someone who studies emotions & relationships. Having a friend or partner who’s into the very thing he doesn’t approve of. If you’re close enough he would help you to a certain degree, researcher helping each other. Especially because you should not be on the hunter side researching on how the different hunters’ emotions & relationships works. That’s exactly the kind of unnecessary risk he wanted to avoid. Please stay away from the nonhuman ones at least…

So yeah, that’s what I can think of for now. Might be a little all over the place, sorry. His complete detachment to human emotion could be interesting to explore. Realistically he would probably work best with someone who is rational & in a platonic way.

[system-of-a-feather]

Re-establishing Baseline Plan

Since moving, I've (completely understandably and expectedly) had my baseline kinda fucked (did not help by with financial stress + job incompatibility + ear infection + really bad post ear infection cold + probable norovirus in literally one month) and so I've been really overloaded, stressed, and just in a place of mostly survival mode where most of my energy is focused on maintaining my mental and physical state in the easiest manners possible

I have been holding up well all things considered and have set up for a probably more compatible job + my fiance has managed to get a job again that he feels will probably work out well for him and I have at least like a week off between jobs to reorientate myself

So to take a good and active effort to make the best of this time, I want to make a plan to set myself up for success. I actually do this every so often when I really need to pick myself up (historically Lucille would usually do it but pros of being basically fully integrated is that I am Lucille as well as me) and I figured it would be a neat thing to display and demonstrate here cause I'd end up making it *anyways* so why not share with the class

If anyone likes this, yall can borrow it ^^

-----

Question One: What current coping skills and hobbies am I currently doing and trying with my time? Are they affective and would I like to change them?

Art, Drawing, Character Design, Art Fight Prep, Story Planning and Writing

This is one of the easiest and most reliable positive coping mechanisms and has gotten me through the majority of the month mostly on it's own. Compared to other coping mechanisms, this one is almost always something I can drag myself to do or at least ask someone to supervise me to make sure I do it when I feel I need some sort of self care. It serves greatly as an alternative when I find that I am doing maladaptive coping that I would rather not do and when in doubt, it has access to some level of social engagement should I feel I need that. With that being said, having relied largely on this for a month, this is suffering diminishing returns and starting to lead to general lack of inspiration and so diversification from this coping mechanism would be ideal

Weekend Gym Trips

This is actually a really good way for me to release energy, give myself space and time to think, and just feel better moving and existing in my body. It also mandates time for me to listen to music and serves a meditative purpose. That said, I have only been doing this on Saturdays and only once on Sunday and I would like to expand that to be at least 3 times a week or at least more spaced out.

Reading Semi Regularly

This is a new habit and coping I picked up and its actually really good! It provides a unique sense of calm when I need it. Unfortunately I've started to drop off the past week due to general stress and illness, so I think its important to return to this. Perhaps set a general goal of "every other day" rather than every day to lessen the pressure.

Video Games

This was helpful but lately I have been not motivated to play anything and I believe its been burnt out. I think it would be good to resume this but it is currently impractical to force at the moment until overall wellness has returned.

TV with Boy

This is helpful but unforunately nothing seems to interest either of us to watch right now. (cri life is hard /lh)

Board Games with Boy

This is a new one and has actually been very nice. That said, it isn't always available and dependent on my fiance's ability to have the energy, time and interest to play them, particularly since I know he is less interested in board games than me. It is good to maintain the interest and offer, but not a coping skill to become reliant on.

Question Two: What sorts of things that I am currently not doing do I know tend to define behaviors, habits, hobbies, and interests that are done when I am out of survival mode and genuinely enjoying life?

Regular Birding, Particularly with Peers

Interest in watching anything on my own, youtube, TV shows, etc

Engagement in Music, Particularly my Musical Instruments

Engagement in Exploration and just independent travels without individuals

Engagement and interest in occasionally reaching out to Buddhist environments

Producing art work for the story that is more developed and inspired rather than "quick" or "reference" focused - actually focusing on the creative and artistic expression rather than the practical expression

Increased social circle communication irl beyond my online bestie, fiance, and online friend group chat; reaching out to individuals and developing new irl friendships

Question Three: Which of those hobbies do I think could be the most reasonable and easy to meet sooner than later (even better if I can make steps to start that right now / today)? In what ways could I make steps to make those first changes and help set myself up for success on expanding my engagement with life beyond survival mode?

Interest in watching anything on my own, youtube, TV shows, etc

While I am not extensively motivated in any manner to watch anything in particular, I am starting to randomly get a lot of bleach related stuff on my youtube and I have been meaning to watch TYBW arc. I have been postponing it because of arbitrary "I wanna read the manga first" and just general other excuses, but realistically those are putting up barriers that I may not get to at this rate and currently I could just use something I'm somewhat interested in to give me some independent relaxing engagement. I think I can set the goal of actually watching Bleach TYBW at least an episode a day starting either today or tomorrow and see if that can bring a momentum and habit into actually being able to watch things that interest me on my own.

Engagement in Music, Particularly my Musical Instruments

I can probably actually take my violin back out. The guitar would probably be better but for whatever reason I feel that my brain thinks that would require more - for a lack of better word - work, so I think I can at least try to find time this week to at least play a little bit of my violin.

Regular Birding, Particularly with Peers + "increased social irl connection [...]"

I can reach out and text my new irl birding connections to see if they are interested; if not I can at least plan to take a birding trip later

Engagement in Buddhist Stuff

I know there is an area I've been thinking of visiting that has free english services on Tuesday, I can make plans to go there that day, particularly since my Fiance should be working for the first day then anyways.

Question Four: What are additional goals and check points that we would like to try to bring us closer to the life style that we know tends to support a thriving mental state and life satisfaction rather than one of survival?

Independent Travels

During the time I have, I can keep in mind this goal and if I have down time think of potentially interesting and alternative places to go to explore; additionally I can plan birding trips to places I have not yet checked out.

Increased Social IRL Connection

It is dependent on if my now-ex-coworker still is interested, but I can follow up and see if we want to still play board games; if not I think potential more ways to reach out will be more viable to plan once a higher level of baseline is established; potentially see if there are any in person DnD groups around that I could make a habit of going to or any martial art dojos that we can afford

More Inspired Art

I think this is something that will come with time between lessening the burn out of my current art-as-a-coping mechanism goal as well as actually engaging in more media and independent interests as to gain more inspiration.

Question Five: Summarize the Key Points and Plans Discussed in This into a Bullet Points of Take Aways

Modifying Current Coping:

Diversify and lean off of using art as a main coping mechanism; give that one a break

Attempt to go to the gym more frequently or at least space it out more throughout the week

Continue reading; lessen the ideal to every other day in case demand pressure is adversely affecting it

Keep an open interest in playing board games with fiance

Changes I Want To Make Soon:

Start watching Bleach TYBW w/ at least one episode a day

Bring out my violin and try to at least play with it for one hour this week

Reach out to new bird peers to see if they want to plan a birding trip sometime, if not then plan one independently

Make plans to go to that place on Tuesday for the open Buddhist service

Changes to Keep an Eye Out For:

Opportunities to go somewhere new randomly for no particular reason or goal in mind other than to just see whats around us

Spoons and time availability to see out places to expand our irl social circles

Inspiration for art in general

Question Six: Set for Regular Follow Ups to Check Progress

Isn't tumblr's queue / schedule function super neat for this

[tunastime]

hello hello! I am insufferable :D (this is really long sorry-)

imagine jimmy and tango so exhausted from rebuilding the ranch and collecting resources for it that the only time they are really together is when they fall into bed and pass out immediately

but jimmy’s hands are still badly burnt from when he was restraining tango, and all that building has Not Helped, but he didn’t stop until tango essentially dragged him away, because of course he felt how much his soulmate was hurting

jimmy kept trying to sneak away when tango wasn’t paying attention (“we don’t have any good armour, we need at least one layer of defence!”) so tango came up with the better plan of just laying on jimmy

it started out as a last-ditch attempt to keep jimmy resting. tango fully expected jimmy to push him off, but instead jimmy just sort of froze in surprise before relaxing into it—it’s at that point where tango realises jimmy is The Most touchstarved person in the world, ever, and will do pretty much anything for cuddles

so what does one do with this information? abuse it, of course!

even after jimmy’s hands have healed (wounds like that heal fast on life games—They find it boring when one person is unable to do anything because of an injury) tango insists on cuddle sessions every afternoon, something jimmy is obviously trying to pretend he doesn’t like as much as he does

tango spends most of the time teasing jimmy about how sweet he is, what with how his will crumbles every time tango asks him for something if he’s holding jimmy’s hand at the same time. so you can imagine jimmy’s delight when he found out tango purrs

they’re especially tired after the whole warden ordeal, both half asleep in each other’s arms. tango has his nose pressed against jimmy’s neck as he rests his head on jimmy’s shoulder, jimmy with his wings around them both.

jimmy blinks sleepily and smiles at tango, who looks like he is about to pass out right there. he moves his head slowly, as to not disturb him, and presses a kiss to his hair.

he almost yelps as he hears a low rumbling, expecting it to be the warden or pearl’s dogs, but as he listens, he realises it’s much too soft to be something aggressive.

for a second, jimmy is utterly confused as to where the noise is coming from. then, he turns back to tango and notices how his throat—currently pressed against his shoulder—has begun to vibrate.

jimmy presses a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing in delight. tango, mr ‘i’m going to bring the warden from the deep dark’, resident redstone mad scientist, creator of decked out, is purring.

“tango,” jimmy whispers gently. “hey, tango.”

tango cracks an eye open, and wow he really is a large cat. “mm?”

“you didn’t tell me you purred.” jimmy grins.

“wha..?” tango does not look awake enough to understand anything.

“you’re purring.”

tango just blinks for a moment, before apparently processing what jimmy just said and going bright pink. “oh! oh, no- I wasn’t- y’see, I just-“

“I kissed your head and you started purring!” jimmy exclaims, partially to tease him and partially because it is, in all honesty, adorable.

“yeah, well,” tango mumbles, trying (and failing) to hide his face. “… shut up.”

“tango, I am never going to shut up about this.”

them <3

HI THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR MONTHS AND I JUST KEEP RE-READING IT INSTEAD OF POSTING IT.

I don't know if I've ever actually written it, but I'm in love with a tango who purrs. I've assigned this man so many silly cat traits it's starting to get ridiculous. He's got his cat-ish eyes and tail, his purring, his teeth, though there's a special place in my heart for my lovely mutual Theo's hc of something inside him literally glowing, him being toasty warm, and a collective headcanon of him needing his blaze-rod crown to stay energized during the life games. I could go on and on about blazeborn and tango, please hold me back.

And jimmy who won't admit that he enjoys the attention but won't ever say no to it, i adore him. I think about the ranch burning way more than I should for it being a year ago, there's just so much to unpack in relation to what DL was for jimmy as a character.

Also:

mr ‘i’m going to bring the warden from the deep dark’, resident redstone mad scientist, creator of decked out, is purring.

AS HE SHOULD! AS HE SHOULD!! I ADORE HIM.

anyway, I'm still crazy about them! I think about this all the time!! I'm so sorry i didn't get to this ask as soon as you sent it, it's been on my mind since then and i <333

[beanie-bop25]

The Placebo Effect

Chapter One

Growing up, my parents had forced my brothers and I to attend Church with them. Dressed in our Sunday best, along with the other households of the town, we'd flock into the Church for mass. It was boring for us pups, listening to the preacher drone on and on without understanding much of what he was talking about. But, I do remember one sermon in particular.

My brother's had been allowed to skip this particular Sunday due to a football match they were partaking in, my father accompanying them, and so it was just my mother and I. The preacher, Pastor Nicholas, spoke about how in the eyes of God we are all equal. Apparently, the Lord did not see us as separated by our individualities but all as equals, and so we should strive to be just like him; treating others how we wished to be treated. And for a time, I guess I believed that...

...until I grew into my secondary gender.

It had come as quite a surprise to my family that the week before my thirteenth birthday, I began to present as an Omega. There hadn't been an Omega on either side of the family for generations upon generations. My father was a Beta, mother an Alpha and both my elder brothers Beta's also; it had been expected that I too would be a Beta or at the very least an Alpha like my mother. Growing up, I'd been a pretty rambunctious pup. Always finding trouble one way or another, even when I had only pure intentions. A quick visit to the doctors with my overly concerned parents sealed their worst fears. I was an Omega. My parents were terrified for me, my brothers unsure how to approach me. It was as if I wasn't myself anymore. No matter how many times I tried to explain that I was still me, that I was still their Charlie, it never made a difference.

From there on out, I learnt very quickly that men are not seen as equal. In the real world, it's do or die. Sink or swim. Eat or be eaten.

If we are all equal, then I say that's fucking bullshit.

~

The hum of the aircraft was steady beneath me, a constant vibration that seeped into my bones. Lulling, but not quite soothing. I'd slept in worse places-on worse flights-but the ache in my shoulders was more than just turbulence and an uncomfortable seat. It was the weight of returning home to the country I'd been so eager to leave behind just a few years prior.

England rolled out below in a smear of dull green, dusty yellow and grey. The morning drizzle misting the few windows the aircraft had as if it were trying to blur the edges of reality. Sprawling acres of countryside and farmland transitioning into cramped housing estates. Heavy rain was coming. I could feel it in my joints. What a typical British welcome, I should have expected no less, really.

For the last few years, I'd been on American soil. The missions I'd taken apart of classified and ,admittedly, forgettable. However, a single phone called had shattered the somewhat peaceful life I'd built for myself.

Kate Laswell was the type of Alpha to wait patiently before cashing in a favour. While it had been a while since we'd last spoken, I'd recognised the number that had flashed up onto my phone and within seconds had been scrambling to pick up the call. As a plucky, young recruit, Laswell had saved my hind more times then I cared to remember and it seemed as if the time for me to finally re-pay my debt had come.

The situation was simple enough. Over the call, Kate briefed me about a specialised Task Force-the 141-whom were currently in search of a field medic to join their ranks. Having worked so closely to one another, the Task Force had formed a pack. This wasn't an unusual thing for, mind you, for soldiers in the military. Packs were built out of necessity and the need to survive. However, according to Laswell, the 141's ties ran deeper then just the need to survive...

The issue lied in the fact that the Task Force had turned away, or chased away, every medic presented to them. In the past two months, they'd ran through five, perfectly qualified and capable medics. Whether it was a clash or personalities or dynamics between members failing, they always had an excuse. Something simply wasn't syncing for them. But, this was causing the pack to become unstable. Taking on a new addition to an already formed pack was a daunting enough task. Hierarchy had to be established, bonds had to be nurtured. With the recruitment of a medic not going too well, it was putting a strain on everyone involved.

And so, Kate had rang me.

An Omega who doesn't behave like one at the best of times. A medic who's patched up and growled and challenged more Alpha's then I could count on both hands...

Why she thought this was a good idea was beyond my comprehension. However, with slight reluctance, I'd agreed to at least meet with the pack.

The wheels hit the tarmac with a dull thunk, the kind that makes your teeth clack if you're not braced for it; which, luckily, I was. Outside, the drizzle had thickened into something steadier, more persistent. A warning dressed in grey, if I'd ever seen one.

I stood up before the seatbelt light dimmed, ducking to avoid the low ceiling and slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder. One bag, an olive-green canvas material, holding everything I owned. Well, everything I'd deemed important enough to bring back to England with me, anyway. One of the first rules I'd learned when I'd enlisted was to travel light. In on way or another, that had bled into my everyday life. Minimal belongings meant minimal attachments. Minimal attachments meant no roots to hold me down.

The hatch opened with a hiss and a burst of cold air rolled, the scent of wet earth making my nose crinkle in distaste. Rain pattered softly against the metal gangway, not yet angry enough to sting. But, definitely growing heavier by the minute. I stepped out into it, breathing in the wet earth and fuel-slicked wind. Home, in the most detached sense of the word.

And then I saw her.

Kate Laswell, under a black umbrella, as composed as ever. Hair pinned back. Coat immaculate. The only thing out of place was the fact she was here at all.

"Kate?" I called over the drone of the engines, a grin splitting across my glum expression. Jogging down the ramp, I skidded to a halt before the female Alpha. Grateful when she held the umbrella a little further towards me; now hiding both of us from the rain.

"You look like shit," she smiled, tight-lipped but genuine. "You were expecting someone else?"

"Pfft, you literally called me yesterday afternoon and I'm here, aren't I? I think I'm allowed to look a little dishevelled after the flight I've just been on," I roll my eyes, all in good nature. Combing a hand through my hair to sweep back the wet fly-aways that had come loose from my ponytail. "Honestly? I'd expected a bored Lieutenant with a clipboard."

"Well, this is important. I figured you deserved to be more than just a footnote at the bottom of someone's schedule" Kate shrugged, gesturing her head to the side to get me to follow her before slowly beginning to walk away from the aircraft with myself in toe. 

I studied her face for a moment. She wasn't here for show. She was invested. While I'd gathered from the phone call that Laswell cared for the pack, I hadn't gathered just how much until now.

"Trying to make sure I don't bolt in the first ten minutes?" I asked, a wry smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"You've done enough running. I think it's time you stayed somewhere," Kate gave a soft laugh, bumping into me gently with her shoulder. "And I think it's time my boys plucked their heads from their own asses... you'll be good for one another."

I didn't answer right away. We walked across the wet tarmac in silence, our boots splashing in shallow puddles. My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag. I could feel her watching me, not like an Alpha looking for a chink in my armour, but like a friend checking for cracks.

"...You still think this is a good idea?" I asked, quietly.

"I do," she said with an air of certainty that had the tension in my shoulders relaxing some. "John, the Captain, always has had a thing for taking in strays. I'm just hoping he sees you as such."

I looked ahead to the doors of base, then back at her. Rain ran in rivulets down the fabric of the umbrella, and something heavy shifted in my chest.

"Fine," I sighed, shrugging. "But, if this whole thing goes to shit, I'll be packing my bags and I shall still deem my debt paid, alright?"

"That's... fair Laswell nodded, slowly, as if mulling over the options in her head.

As we came to a stop just outside the doors of base, stood now under a small overhead canopy, I watched as Kate shook off the umbrella and closed it. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a patch. A scent blocker, to be more precise. Looking at the outstretched patch before back up to the female Alpha, my brow furrowed slightly.

"I don't wear scent blockers off missions" I remind her, reaching up to itch my scent gland as if reminded of the previous discomfit wearing scent blockers had caused on past missions.

"I'm aware," Kate nodded, but kept her hand outstretched. "I need you to trust me and just wear it for this first little bit-"

"You're not telling me something," I realise, frown deepening, as I begrudgingly take the offered patch. However, don't apply it just yet. "What aren't you telling me, Kate?"

" Placebo-" Laswell sighed, like a parent preparing for a pup's incoming tantrum.

"Laswell," I cut her off, eyes narrowing and a small growl rumbling through my chest. Kate stilled, returning the little rumble with her own. An Alpha's growl easily outmatching an Omega's any day. Yet, I didn't back down. After a moment or two, the growls died down. Kate took a deep breath and composed herself while I still awaited an answer. "Kate, what aren't you telling me?" "...they don't know your an Omega."

[fleshengine]

you're focusing far more on increasingly petty and unproductive reasons to hate little dutch boy and not to be rude but you should put that mental real estate towards understanding where you fucked up re: your interactions with him + on his post instead of getting yourself riled up about, like, him saying the country he's from should be less racist. you're not really being charitable, nor are you accomplishing anything by seeking out things to be mad at him over.

So I sat on this ask for nearly a full day because I didn't know how to respond to it.

I appreciated your first ask. You and a couple other people actually talked to me and critiqued my behavior directly instead of calling me names and/or blocking/unfollowing me. That was cool, it was also a bit of a wakeup call, and I know I didn't directly address it in my response to that ask, but it made me reconsider how I'd acted. I still think I had good points, but I was way too mad about shit.

It was interesting, I got the whole run of responses from that. I had people calling me a racist, xenophobe, and imperialist. I had people like you be like "hey I get where you're coming from but you're being a dick." But I also had a handful of people in my dms and comments reassuring me and comiserating over dealing with eurofags. One stood out specifically, someone who claimed to be native said that they and some others were trying to talk to Deer Boy about it but he wasn't listening.

I came to the conclusion that I had made good points, but had also acted like a dick, and was therefore being treated uncharitably, and misunderstood. It didn't help that Deer Boy prefaced the post with half an hour of vaguing about me and calling me a racist. So people went into the post already thinking about me as a racist, and didn't bother to try to understand my side of it. They just saw a racist American, and I got spammed with hatemail.

But let me be VERY clear.

You do not get to waltz into my askbox every day and tell me how to live my life. You do not get to tell me that I have petty reasons for hating people. You do not get to take shots in the dark about the mental real estate I put in to people.

I appreciated it the first time, even though I disagreed with you about some stuff. I think I was overly charitable to the Russian girl, given that she's the type to smugly use her country's size as a gotcha, recommends people interested in the Ukraine invasion watch RT (a known Russian propaganda news channel), and whines about russophobia. I disengaged with her as politely as I could manage, I didn't have the bandwidth to deal with someone who claims to speak english as a fourth language misinterpretting me and getting mad about it.

I have a handful of perfectly good reasons for hating Deer Boy. Blocking me before reblogging that post made it so I never even knew he saw it, and couldn't defend myself. He's a fucking cowardly and annoying european. The half an hour of vaguing about me didn't help, and definitely contributed to the hate mail I got. The people who came after me during that dug up some shit that I have ever right to be mad about. Finally the fact that actual native people were trying to stick up for me and he ignored them shows that he's more interested in making fun of the dumb American than understanding people. I screenshotted that post to make fun of him specifically, because that's the kind of shit I do when I fuck up with something like this. And also, the first part of it was made in reponse to me talking about the Netherland's colonialism.

I do not put that much thought into Deer Boy. I put a lot of thought into the situation, what I did wrong, what I could have done better, how mad I was that it shook out the way it did. Trust me when I say the mental real estate for him was "oh I'm at my computer, I wonder what Deer Boy is posting about, the fucker." And I went and looked. My mental real estate these days is mostly dedicated to my girlfriends, my current writing project, and magic the gathering.

It should be noted that you are quite literally one of my biggest fans, along with a friend of one of my gfs, and my other gf.

So you probably have a decent understanding of how I act on here. What you fundamentally lack is an understanding of who I am outside of Tumblr. You need to wrap your head around the fact that posts can be made in seconds, and I have hours in my days. Tumblr and its bullshit is a tiny part of my life. I could delete my account and very little would change for me irl.

And look, you've probably been following me a while. You should know by now that I'm a bitch. I hold grudges, I specifically tend to hold grudges against people I would nominally agree with on most things, that then block me for stupid reasons. Because I am always convinced that if we were in the same room and I could talk to them face to face I could convince them or at worse come to a mutual understanding. But because the ability to permanently end communication is always right there, and is often used too freely, I am locked off from any possible future positive interaction. It is what I hate most about this website. So I'm gonna be a bitch when it happens, and I'm gonna hate the people who do it, and I'm periodically gonna check on their accounts using my alt, and I might even publicly ridicule them to make myself feel less upset about the percieved betrayal.

If you cannot deal with that, unfollow me.

[hum-suffer]

sorry about invading your ask box with that long essay. I know half of it is incoherent :') I just said all I could. The summary of it though is (in case you dont wish to read it all): I hated Ram. Couldnt understand why people were so crazy about him to the extent that the rich were racing to give away all their life earnings and the poor were making sure even their humble little huts are lit up for Ram that day. Then I read about the Hindu history. Became absolutely horrified. I felt scarred. Currently in the process of begging Ram to heal the ancestral wounds I am carrying deep within my soul. Trying to make my parents understand why the new Sita-Ram poster in my room is for spiritual needs. Hon'ble mentions- I finished Ami Ganatra's commentary on Ramayana and also listened to her explain a lot of the misconceptions I held. Also found J Sai Deepak. His book went slightly over my head but I am re-reading to understand it better. I love his speeches. Another guy who explains the hindu position brilliantly is Anand Rangnathan imo. Some of his arguments were actually what contributed in my disillusionment. I am currently reading his "Hindus in Hindu Rashtra"

Don't feel sorry at all, my dear, it's completely fine!

I'm absolutely proud of you for taking up the courage and determination to seek the answers for yourself. Siya Ram would be proud of you regardless, as long as you're happy and your happiness doesn't strike down someone else's.

I'm glad that you're learning new things as well as trying to solve the misconceptions you had, my dear. These people are some great sources, especially Anand Ranganathan in his neutral and brutal view of the political situation in our country.

I wish you all the very best for your understanding of the new perspective you have seen and i will always help you, should you ever ask for it

[polyamorousmisanthrope]

Polyamory Can't Come From Cheating

From: https://polyamorousmisanthrope.com/wordpress/2017/05/14/polyamory-cant-come-from-cheating/

I’ve been getting several letters that look like this lately:

Dear Polyamorous Misanthrope,

My husband has had an affair and now wants to have a polyamorous relationship.  She is pregnant, and wants him to live with her.  How do I get over my jealousy and stop being so inadequate as a wife?

Any poly person who says that being angry at being mistreated is a symptom of inadequacy or that being jealous is somehow a personal failing isn’t someone you need to listen to at all.

Cheating and Polyamory

I’ve got some advice for both sides of the coin here.   Maybe you’ve cheated on your partner and want to be openly poly.  Maybe you’ve had a partner cheat on you and then decide poly is the thing to do.  In both cases, I’ve got some less than pleasant things to say.

If You are the Cheater

To repeat to the people who have cheated and think polyamory is going to be their Get out of Jail Free card, please understand that polyamory does not work if you are:

Lying to your partner.

Insensitive to your partner’s needs and desires.

Breaking agreements.

Expecting your partner to be convenient.

If you have cheated and want to save your marriage, you are going to need to earn back your spouse’s trust.  That is almost certainly not possible while still being involved with the person you’re cheating with.  It may not be possible at all.

If You are Being Cheated On

If have been cheated on and are being told that you’re to blame because of your “insecurities…”

You are being gaslighted.

Everyone’s behavior is always their very own fault.  If you slap your partner for cheating on you, you’re being abusive.  Your partner didn’t make you do it.  If your partner says you were too stifling and that’s why the cheating happened, the partner is still lying and breaking agreements. You didn’t make them do it.

Maybe you are insecure and need to work on that.  Fair enough.  Still not an excuse for breaking agreements.  The only ethical options available are re-negotiating the agreements or breaking the relationship off.

What Good Relationships Look Like

I’m not trying to paint relationships as throw-away things, by the way.  My shortest current relationship is celebrating its ten-year anniversary this summer.  The relationships I have survive happily because of three things that are really important:

We genuinely care about each other’s feelings.

I had a Bad Thing happen to me recently and the pain of it will hit me at odd moments.  The last time FWB visited, let’s just say I wasn’t feeling all that sexy.  He understood that and was fine with cuddling.  Do I realize and like… care about the fact that he might have felt disappointed?  Yep.  Very much so.  The point is that in good partnerships, there is mutual compassion. 

I cannot overstate the fact that in a good relationship, the mutuality of care is crucial.  You cannot abnegate yourself to earn the cookies of being cared about, though.  If it’s not mutual, if it’s a one-way street, you are genuinely better off without that relationship.  Love, deep down, is really what it’s all about.  I say it over and over and over again.  Without love, forget it.

We are honest with each other.

This has to be the most important part of the whole thing.  My husband and I really did nearly divorce because of a lack of honesty in communication.  We learned to be honest about what we wanted to do or not, and never to agree to something we didn’t want.  We found that where we disagreed, because we knew there were no hidden agendas, workarounds could easily be found that everyone could deal with happily. (Were that not so, we would have parted).

We recognize duty exists in relationships

Duty is not a popular word and I have been in relationships that eyeroll duty.  Never, ever again.  It is my duty to be honest about what I think and feel as well as volunteer my emotional state.  It is my duty to do what I say I am going to do.  It is my duty to tell my partner if my feelings have changed and I want something else.

I do not consent to relationships in which people do not feel the same way about the paragraph above.

This makes it sound all harsh and cold and no fun, which is, I am sure, why the word has fallen out of popularity.  But that’s not what my life looks like.  It feels secure and comfortable.  I know my partners will not grudgingly stay with me if they are unhappy.  I know they’re in my life because they want to be. 

I recommend a few articles, though, if you are dealing with a partner who has cheated on you, and you’re trying to decide what to do in the face of it.  Yes, this is stuff I’ve written, but I think it’s important.

Boundaries

How to Rebuild Trust

Vetos (Hint:  Hate ‘em and think they’re crap for learning appropriate boundaries)

The Emotional Bank Account