#I've been cleaning out a lot of my old shit lately with people I don't talk to anymore and it's both hella toxic and weirdly relieving

[the-insanity-of-mojiru]

What do you mean this audio is 6 years old, I just heard it yesterday--

[the-lisechen]

~6.7k. gen. copia/f!oc. the cardinal has a cigarette with a fan. from there, it gets a little weird. (or: copia gets into a fist fight at 3am in a denny's parking lot over theology. metaphorically speaking.)

header by the divine @enjoy-my-swearing

(the fic that started it all and has eaten my brain ever since. don't mind me, i just wanted to reformat this one and also have it on my tumblr for posterity)

some kind of cosmic rearrangement - ao3

(full series here)

religious discussion, catholic character that isn't an asshole, unresolved sexual tension. tw: catholicism

Copia stepped out into the night, face paint mostly cleaned off, save for the black around his eyes. He couldn't even remember the name of the town they were in. Somewhere in the American South, the air warm and heavy with humidity that felt like silk against his skin. He settled his shoulders against the brick of the alleyway, and sighed, his blood still fizzing from the ritual. The comedown from the adrenaline dump always left him a little hollowed out and shaky.

As he passed a hand over his face, the car in front of him trilled out like a bird and flashed its lights. He turned to the sound of boots up the wet pavement. A small figure, female, dishwater blonde hair, head down, hands stuffed into black skinny jeans. Humming something he could recognize as one of his songs, and that never got old.

He watched her approach, curious. When she at last stepped into the light, she looked up at him, and startled like a deer. Her hands flew up to her mouth, and she squeaked out a breathless “Oh shit!” It took her a moment to recover, and my, wasn't that an interesting shade of pink. He’d seen people blush, of course, but this was remarkable, that red, that quickly.

He had to smile, even bowing a little. “Bunoasera, signora."

"Um! Hi! You are very good at your job!"

Her purse plopped next to her feet, and she knelt down to recollect it, the blush deepening to the color of late spring roses. "Sorry, I'm sorry--" she said, hands shaking as she scooped spilled detritus back into her purse, pens and lip balm spilling from her fingers.

He bent over to help her, smiling. "It is no trouble, signora. Not the worst I've seen." He paused, sitting back on his heels, and picked up a battered paperback the color of burnt orange. "'The Liberation of Theology.'" He looked up at her, mismatched eyes sharp, assessing. "This is what you read? At my show?"

The girl-- woman, really-- went still. She got to her feet and took half a step back, widening her stance, her shoulders squared. "Yeah." She tilted her chin up. "Is it really that strange?"

He flipped it to read the back cover, and her spine relaxed a fraction, with his focus off of her. "Perhaps... somewhat unexpected." An understatement. He stood, slow, putting himself further into her personal space, eyes still on the text in his hand. He read the subtitle. "'An instrument in human liberation.' Has it been?" He looked down at her, not exactly trying to loom, but not exactly going out of his way not to. "In your experience."

The woman folded her arms, leaning back against her car. Keeping her distance. "It can be. It should be." She flipped her keyring, once. "And in my experience? Yes, actually. But I am fully aware my experience may be-- atypical."

"In what way?"

"Well." She looked up, exposing the long pale line of her throat, and her Southern accent became gradually more apparent as she spoke. "I converted to Catholicism. Not really from anything, you understand, unless you count the vaguely agnostic Protestant background noise in America. And I did my catechism classes with a Capuchin Franciscan. A lot of mysticism. And a lot of social action to offset the navel-gazing that comes with that. The culture was-- it's different. I mean, how much do you know about liberation theology?"

"For the purposes of this conversation?" He idly tapped her book against his thigh. "Let us say... not much."

"In simple terms: feed the hungry, clothe the naked. Like the guy said in the book, right? It's both defending the poor and taking aim at the structural issues that are actively oppressing people. Real basic."

"You need a God to tell you this?"

He saw her warming to the subject, eyes alight and not quite on his. "Of course not, but it's a useful framework. And some people do! Whatever provides incentive. Besides that, it works on a practical level, if the Church is your primary social apparatus, that's a structure in place to distribute resources if the state is failing. I mean, the Jesuit approach in South America is not quite the same as the Black church in the Civil Rights movement in the USA in the Sixties, but it's not too far off, either. It's like--" and she cut herself off, the blush coming back, eyes cast downward. "It's just what's supposed to happen. What it says on the tin."

He ruffled the pages with a gloved hand a few times, watching her. "Incentive." He gestured at her with the book, halfway to accusatory. "If someone is doing something in expectation of divine reward, then they are, I'm afraid, an asshole."

"Man, I truly do not care about the motive. I care about the effect it has on the world. But faith without works is dead."

"You believe this."

"Yeah."

"You are this passionate about it, and yet you came to see me. My songs are nothing but blasphemy. Why?"

"Look, as blasphemy goes-- and I'm not trying to denigrate anything you're doing here-- this is just not that big a deal."

He stared at her. "I am literally praising the devil. Literal songs about, literally, devil worship."

"Yeah, and it slaps. Can I have my book back?"

He held it out carefully, as if it was a chunk of meat and she was a strange animal. One that might bite. "What is it, then, that qualifies as blasphemy? In your opinion."

She took it, opened the backseat door to her car, and tossed it in, careful not to turn her back on him. "I dunno. Start with that 'prosperity gospel' bullshit. 'If you're rich, it's because Jesus wants you to be rich!' Joel Osteen can bite the fucking curb. It's lazy exegesis, is what it is." Again, he saw her restrain herself, and she ran a hand through her hair, embarrassed. "I can go on. Obviously. But I think if you're getting bent out of shape about this kind of thing, you need to reassess your priorities."

"No, this is-- at least amusing. You haven't chased us out with torches and pitchforks yet, so I will continue to assume good faith." He smiled. "So to speak."

"Trust me, I am leaving a lot of stuff out." She fished around in her purse, picked out a brilliantly blue pack of cigarettes, and tapped them rhythmically on the heel of her hand. "So what's your deal? I don't know a lot about theistic Satanism. Pop the hood on it, man, tell me how it works."

"In simple terms?"

"Sure." She cracked a smile, thumbing a cigarette out of the pack.

"We honor the serpent that brought knowledge to Eve, as a liberator from the oppression of the corrupted demiurge that you call God."

"The snake, this was one of those gnostic things, right? That was, what, the Ophites? I thought they found it at Nag Hammadi."

"Fragments. References. But we have had the Syntagma for centuries. This was Hippolytus, yes? We borrowed a few things from Marcion of Sinope, as well. From those texts, and other pieces of what you would call apocrypha, we solidified a doctrine. Eventually. These things take time, no? Remind me, when did your people decide on the canon?"

"Council of Rome. I wanna say three..." she tapped the unlit cigarette, "...eighty seven? Somewhere in there. Fourth century, anyway."

"Just so. As a, you'd say-- distinct movement, yes? I would say sometime around the twelfth century that we came together."

"Hold on, twelfth century, evil demiurge-- what was this, like a splinter of the Cathars?"

"Not unrelated. When it came to that kind of dualism, we merely decided to side with the physical world."

"By running straight to the devil."

"Eh. No half measures."

"I'm just kinda surprised it got traction in that environment."

"Mostly on the-- margins, you would say? We had solidified the clerical structure some time before, modeled on the Catholic church. Camouflage, yes? But it was with the obvious corruption of the fourteenth century that we started to gain momentum. Acolytes. A whisper network of proselytization."

"That is neat. Like, what, a Dark Reformation kind of thing?"

"...That is, perhaps, somewhat reductive. But not inaccurate."

"Oh that is so cool. It's like finding a whole new life form in the Marianas Trench. No, I can see a kind of sense to it. Get far enough away from Rome, look as close as you can to the actual Church, you might get away with it."

"They did burn us. Your people did do that."

"I am sure that they did," she said, with a certain blithe amicability. "Burnt a lot of Cathars, too, makes sense. Sir-- Father-- I'm sorry. What is the title?"

"Cardinal."

A blink, barely perceptible. "Cardinal, then. Your Eminence, if you want me to stand here and apologize for every atrocity the Church committed, we're gonna be here all night, and it'll get boring quick. And, forgive me, at what point have I attached a moral judgment over your faith?"

He spread his hands, smiling a little. "Very well, I concede the point. You can understand if I am somewhat-- defensive."

"Yeah, of course." She grinned, mostly to herself. "And here I am, a good Catholic girl. Everything you rail against."

"Eh. It could be worse. You could be a Baptist."

She let out a laugh at that, an entirely inelegant sound, and Copia felt as if he'd won something.

"Oh. No. No, I couldn't. Too diffuse. A million different opinions going every which way. I'm also not into sola fide--"

"'By faith alone.'"

"Yeah. Not my bag. If it doesn't inspire you to help your fellow human beings and not just focus on your own salvation, it's probably bullshit." Finally she put the cigarette she'd been fidgeting with into her mouth. "Man. Cathars and gnostics." The woman brought out a burnished zippo and flipped the lid, a faintly musical sound. She didn't light her cigarette, but shot him a sidelong look, eyes alight. "Sounds more like heresy than outright blasphemy."

"Oh, now I'm offended." He was not, in fact, offended. He was fascinated. He wanted to study her under a microscope. "Certainly, that's the first time I've heard that. Maybe I should send you to talk to the-- ehh, how is it? The protestors. What do you call, the evangelicals, yes?"

"They don't like Catholics, either. The veneration of Mary, y'know? Idolatry." Finally she sparked the lighter, her face turning to alabaster in the light of the flame. "We're both going to hell in their lights. Just different neighborhoods." She bent her head to the light. A long drag on the cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke upwards. "So no, I don't think going to a concert counts as a sin. There's just some songs I can't sing along to, is all."

Copia leaned back against the wall, arms folded, considering her. "You know that your Church would call this blasphemy. What is it, then, that you think I'm doing, if not spreading the word of Satan?"

A long drag of her cigarette. "Sick tunes, man," she said, around the smoke. Shrugged. "It's fun. And fun is underrated, as a concept."

"Signora, I don't think 'fun' is what brought you here." He leveled her with his mismatched stare, and she dropped her eyes.

"No," she said, studying the cherry on her cigarette. "No, fun would not be enough."

He took a step closer, not quite edging into her personal space. "What, then? What could possibly bring you to deny your programming, when you clearly believe with such conviction?"

The back of her shoulders hit the top of her car, but she tilted her head up at him in challenge. "Call it joy, then." A defiant kind of vulnerability. "That's what I hear in your songs. And that's a rarer thing."

"What a monstrous thing, to deny joy. To yourself, to others. That sounds to me like blasphemy. What abnegation of the self. We are not hurting anyone. I am not hurting anyone. Why not do as you like?"

"'An it harm none, do as thou wilt.'"

"Precisely."

"Isn't that, what, Louÿs by way of Crowley? Nineteenth century. I thought your stuff was older than that."

"That is beside the point and you know it. Answer me."

"Because that's where it falls apart for me! To begin and end with 'do no harm' does not work. You cannot always do exactly as you like, you have an obligation in society! Feed the hungry. 'Do what you want, whatever,' that's too passive. And being passive in the face of oppression is oppression! Come on, man, you must know this. You're too smart not to know this."

"I'm sorry, you want to talk about oppression? With the literal Catholic Church? With the colonialism and the forced conversion and the actual literal Inquisition? Even laying that aside, the harm it's doing now, how can you still stay with it?"

"Because that's not all it is! Not all it could be. Because it can be just, it can be equitable, and it can be used as a tool for liberation. I believe that, I do. And if if I'm in it-- and oh boy you would not believe how much I'm in it-- then I have a moral obligation to try to shape it towards those ends. Because those people--" she flung a hand out, gesturing towards what, he couldn't say, and he took a step back. "Those bullshit assholes that want to strip people of healthcare and gut the social safety net-- they're in my house! And they don't get to fucking win."

"You must see that this is about control. You are too smart not to know this."

The woman slumped back against her car, and took another long drag on her cigarette, before dropping it and crushing it under her boot, an oddly fussy swiveling motion. "I dunno, man. For me it's about service. You just don't fix something by walking away. And anyway I'm committed."

"I think you are tilting at windmills." He watched her, the last tendrils of cigarette smoke from her exhale the same blue-grey of her eyes, letting the silence linger until the smoke cleared entirely. "What is your name?"

She flicked her eyes back up at him, and then away, coming to a decision. "Sophia Turner." She bit her lip. "Sophie."

"Sophie. That's lovely."

"Thank you. And what do I call you? Feels a little weird, saying 'Your Eminence' to a guy whose faith you don't subscribe to."

He tilted his head in the faintest approximation of a bow, biting back a smile. "Copia."

"Well. I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Her accent more pronounced with the formality, a distinctly Southern drawl.

"You say you're committed. How? You don't have to stay anywhere forever."

"Oh. Oh boy. Um." She looked down at her hands, picked at the edge of a painted nail, and then turned to him, watching his mismatched eyes for a long moment. She smiled, a little rueful. "I am taking my vows in a few months." And to his blank look-- "The Maryknoll Sisters of St. Dominic." He blinked, recoiled a little, and she flinched, turning to look down the street, not seeing the rain on the asphalt, the streetlight shining on the fire escape. "I still don't think it's a sin. But it's-- maybe a little harder to square. After that. Wanted to see you while I could."

Her face composed. No-color hair hanging in grey eyes. He wanted to reach out, to brush it away, to see her clear, to make her look at him. A gulf between them, on the narrow sidewalk. Something twisted in his chest, at the waste of it, the thought of a fire like that locked in a cloister. And yet: "I could never fault someone for devotion to their faith. The discipline is admirable. Truly. But I would-- Are you allowed? To fraternize with the enemy?"

"Well. Maybe in the spirit of friendly ecumenical dialogue." She looked up at the streetlights, shoulders tensed. She chewed at her lip. "We are allowed to have friends, you know."

He had to drop his gaze, at that, a sharp inhalation. "Ah." And again: "Ah. Hm." He looked back up at her, at the tense muscle in her jaw, her face still resolutely turned away from him. "I wonder--?"

She darted a quick look at him, not quite daring to look at him full-on, yet, and made a motion for him to continue.

He had to smile, even if it was with a little trepidation. "Do you have another cigarette?"

That rough bark of a laugh again, and yes, it felt like a victory. "Yeah. Yeah, man, sure." She pulled out the cigarette pack and extracted one, holding it out with the slightest self-deprecating hint of ceremony. He took it between his gloved fingers, careful not to touch her. When he put it to his lips she leaned in to light it in a movement that seemed both courtly and instinctual, an ingrained habit. He couldn't quite look at her when she did it, shocked by the casual intimacy of the gesture. The warmth of the flame through his gloves, the first rough hit of smoke at the back of his throat and the head-swimming nicotine rush. An awful taste, and completely satisfying. He closed his eyes at it and drew in deep, amazed all over again at how much tension dissipated on the exhale.

When the initial wave of the nicotine high had passed, the fatigue settled in, and he tilted his head back against the bricks, eyes still closed, too tired to be on guard. "Where are we? I confess, I lost track."

"...Asheville, honey." A pause."D'jeet yet?"

Well, that certainly got him to look at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, that was very pronounced, wasn't it? My apologies. Have you eaten?"

His brain felt like static. It was all the answer she needed. "What I figured. C'mon, I know a spot."

"I should--" He stopped, inexplicably stricken. "We're leaving in the morning. I don't remember where's next. Charleston, perhaps?"

"I'll have you home before bedtime, scout's honor." He hesitated. Gently: "I don't have designs on your virtue, Cardinal."

He was tired, and sore, and his head was starting to hurt somewhere behind his right eye. He could feel the dried sweat on himself, like a film, absolutely revolting.

"Alright," he said.

She led and he followed, falling into step at her left elbow, almost without thought. "This is the South, yes? We won't-- we might attract. Attention."

"Mm. I might would worry about it somewhere wasn't Asheville. Here'd probably be fine."

"That seems to be an awful lot of weight to put on 'probably.'"

"More worried about someone from your show running into us and losing their minds, be honest with you."

"As in, dropping their purse and squealing?" Was he enjoying this? He was.

"Oh you think you're funny. And I did not squeal."

"Heh. It was a little bit of a squeal."

"Ain't gonna argue the point with you."

The nicotine felt wonderful. He grinned up at the streetlight filtering through a magnolia tree, the orange light reflecting on the leaves, the faint citrus scent hanging in the thick air. He couldn't restrain himself. "You are not, I hope, leading me into temptation?"

"Oh, foul! Foul. Get thee behind me."

"Equally terrible, signora."

They lapsed into silence for a while. Copia came to the last quarter inch of his cigarette, pinching off one more drag before dropping it down a storm drain. The smell would linger, but it had been blissful in the moment. "So."

"So."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Barbecue joint, open all night. Just up here, actually. You had barbecue yet?"

"I have not."

"You in for a treat, then."

They rounded the corner, heading into the jaundiced sodium light of a patchy parking lot, under a flickering red neon sign. 'Little Pigs Genuine Pit BBQ.' It seemed somehow ominous, but the set of her shoulders reassured him. Somewhat. She pushed open the door with its small jangling bell to red vinyl booths, formica tabletops, wood paneling. Vinegar and roasting meat.

He could feel the eyes on them as she ordered for them both, in a dialect so thick it was almost incomprehensible to him. He stepped closer to murmur, "Coffee for me, please, signora," while he surveilled the crowd. Not outright hostile, had seen stranger things, maybe, but a collective flicker of curiosity before sliding off of them. That flat and unsympathetic gaze. Her accent helped. His obvious manners did as well. Still, he was on edge.

He stayed on edge until he slid into a booth opposite her with his back to the wall, and even then it only let up slightly, a background hum to go along with the labored air conditioning. The barbecue was very nearly worth it, salt and sweet and vinegar and umami, along with the blunt force animal pleasure at hot food after a long time without. He looked up at her, making an inarticulate noise of shocked delight through the sandwich, and she nodded in eager agreement with her mouth full. Swallowed. "I know, right?"

"You cannot convert me."

"Okay. Wasn't trying."

"If you could, this might do it."

"Welcome to the South. It's got problems, but there are compensations."

"So I see."

They lost themselves in the food for a little while, and Copia, a usually fastidious man, found that it was actually impossible to eat a barbecue sandwich neatly. After a while he gave up trying, grateful for the strange softness of American paper napkins. It made sense, if the food was like this. He eyed her iced tea, wondering about it, if that was also an American custom, or if it only applied to the region.

She caught him looking after half a second, and passed it over with barely an eyeblink of thought, the most natural thing in the world.

"Oh, and you've lost me. This is an obscene amount of sugar."

"They do call it 'sweet tea' for a reason."

"Are you sure that this isn't just colored sugar water?"

"Reasonably so. Might be accentual, brings out the depth of flavor, like. Least it isn't corn syrup."

"This is a nightmare dystopia you live in."

"Could be. Try one of them hush puppies, then you get back to me."

"Mm." Then, after following instructions, "I will concede on the food."

"Yeah. There's nowhere and nothing that's bad all the way through."

"Perhaps." He took another sip of her tea, pleased at her sputter of mock-indignation. "This brings me to where it falls apart for me. An omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, omnibenevolent God."

"That is the doctrine."

"Why, then, evil? Why suffering?"

"We going with theodicy, then?"

He motioned for her to continue, a little gleeful.

"Which answer would you like, from the, oh, four-five thousand years that this has been a question?" She tossed the rolled-up sleeve of her straw in his general direction, smiling. "Why you coming at me with this shit, man?"

"Ehh. I want to know what you think. You, not your Church."

She nodded, and poked at the ice in her tea with her straw while she gave the question the consideration it was due. Finally: "I like Simone Weil for this. You read any Simone Weil?"

"Let us say that I haven't."

"Okay." The vinyl booth squeaked as she leaned back. "This isn't necessarily unique to her, it's got a lot of similarities with-- a Jewish creation story, yeah? But creation is where God withdrew. If God is everything, for creation to exist, there has to be places where God is not. If there's places that God is not, then almost by definition they are not, inherently, holy. It's apophatic, unknowable, like John of the Cross or Kierkegaard or what have you-- I'm getting into the weeds here. Evil is the form which God's mercy takes in the world. Affliction-- she's got a specific term for this, she's talking about spiritual affliction more than physical affliction-- doesn't create human misery, so much as reveals it. And it drives us towards God."

"That sounds, if you will pardon me, fucking horrific. The act of a sadist."

"I don't know that I'm explaining this well. We are created matter, and with affliction we are consumed by God. In the Incarnation, God suffers affliction, is made matter, and consumed by us. It's reciprocal. And if you can go through affliction and still love, and recognize your fellow human being as someone else who has suffered like you, then your duty is to help."

"No, still terrible."

"How do your people explain it, then?"

"By not having an omnipotent deity, to start."

"...I walked right into that one. I surely did. Evil demiurge, again?"

"All about control," he replied, amiable.

"Fair enough. I'm not a Jesuit, I could maybe get at this better if I was. My whole thing with it is, there's a difference between affliction-- which is personal-- and, say, generalized oppression, right? The personal makes you more empathetic with the collective."

"I can see the logic there, yes. I do not know if I agree, but I can see it. But do you truly need to suffer to sympathize with another's suffering?"

She turned her glass around in her hands, focusing hard on the ridged plastic edges. "I'unno. Some things you don't understand till you've been through them. Difference between empathy and sympathy, I guess."

"This is, what. You say, 'the personal is political?'"

She cracked a grin at that. "Oh, you done a lot of reading on second-wave feminism, then?"

"Condescending and uncalled for," he said, wagging a finger at her, mock-stern.

She held up a hand. "Fair point, apologies."

"Te absolvo."

"Thank you." She turned her glass in her hands, trailing through the condensation with a chipped fingernail. "My point being. For me. Affliction leads to empathy, and empathy leads you to act. What's the quote. 'Misery as a collective fact expresses itself as an injustice that cries to the heavens.' That's Oscar Romero, I think? Yeah. Oscar Romero. Anyway the thing he gets at-- Saint Oscar Romero, excuse me, did a lot of stuff in El Salvador in the the seventies, but the idea being: turning people into commodities for economic oppression, that's sin. The idolatry of wealth, of 'national security systems,' that's sin. Divine love should be mediated through justice. Gloria dei vivens homo--"

"'The glory of God is the living person.'"

"Yeah, exactly. Romero was on some-- gloria dei vivens pauper, which I think is probably about right."

"'The glory of God is in the poor.' Hm. And how well did that work out for him?"

"Well. They shot the guy during Mass in nineteen eighty."

"A martyr's death. Isn't that what your people aspire to?"

"Not me, man. I wanna live. But yes, he did lean in hard after his friend was killed. That was an inciting incident. I won't deny it."

"So, what, it is acceptable for one death, if it spurs on 'the greater good?'" He made air quotes at her, and she frowned.

"Not gonna debate the very concept of martyrdom with you, but I'm gonna say no, of course not. But like. Me personally? Rather that than have it go to waste. Some right wing fascist chucklefuck takes me out, I'd sure hope my people'd leverage it for all it's worth."

He sat back and tipped his coffee at her. "Bleak."

"Maybe. We each owe a death. And I mean, despite the guy being beatified, he isn't even necessarily the main dude in Latin America. None of these are exactly new concepts, you understand. But as a modern movement, really, it starts in nineteen sixty-eight, with the Medellín conference in Colombia, kind of as a response to Vatican Two, and from there--" she stopped herself, and raised her glass of tea at him in mock-salute. "Minutiae. The point, and I think I'm cribbing from Ernesto Cardenal here, is that while God is love, love can only exist in accordance with equality and justice."

He tilted his head, raising his eyebrows in total skepticism. "I can only say that this has been-- the opposite of my experience. To put it in the most, eh, diplomatic terms possible."

"The Church has done horrible, fucked up things. Continues to do horrible fucked up things. In a space that big, though, there are always going to be practices that are inherently contradictory. This one is mine. And I have the benefit of being fucking right."

"You do see, don't you, how that-- attitude? Mentality, yes? Is dangerous. Even you! Even if I happen to think that you're right. Which I actually do. The benefit of Satanism, I find, is that we do have room for differences. It is, you would say, I think, built in? There is no wrong way to approach. You find your own way. Nobody will lead you, nobody will control you."

"And how far has that kind of rugged individualism progressed the reduction of human suffering?" she snapped.

"At least it doesn't perpetuate it!" he shot back.

They glared at each other over the formica, not quite snarling, equally frustrated.

The diner had gone quiet. Blank suntanned faces, the lone clink of a spoon in a coffee cup, the somehow awful bubbling of the deep fryer. A lot of people, for one in the morning, he thought. They looked at each other in mutual alarm for one tensed breath, and went for their wallets at the same time.

"No," he said, firm, fishing past Euros for American dollars. "You are taking a vow of poverty and I am an actual rockstar." He shot a stern glance at her opened mouth and felt a stab of immense satisfaction when she shut it, apparently- miraculously, even- chastised. He threw down enough to cover the bill and the tip and reached to drag her out, stopping short of actually touching her elbow at the last moment. "Come."

She went.

They escaped with the perversely jaunty ring of the bell over the door into the thick warmth of the night, and she brayed a laugh again, not quite on the edge of hysterics.

"Go, go, this could get ugly." But he was laughing, too. Madness. He'd seen these exact sort of people outside of a venue, enraged, faces red, carrying hateful picket signs. One small woman and one man frankly built like a noodle could be in real danger. Still, their laughter echoed down the gravel-lined drive they had ducked into, their boots crunching in a staccato rhythm in the stones. This was far too much adrenaline for one night, he thought.

While they slowed to a walk, he watched the fireflies darting upwards in the undergrowth, the ascending dashes of yellow-green light seeming fantastical to him, otherworldly. You heard of great masses of them, in America, but in such quantity it was like seeing a fairytale with your own eyes. They thinned out as the landscape started to shift, from residential suburbs to side streets.

"This was-- good. It was good, to get out. To talk. A lot of this, it is, ehh." He waved a hand in the general direction they were moving, to the venue, the concert, the tour. "Movement. Instinct. There is, by definition, no quiet. And that is fantastic, I enjoy it, I love what I do, I am fortunate in that. But it is not often that I get to speak about these things." The thud of their boots, and the high monotonous drone of a cicada somewhere off in the distance, blending with the faraway hiss of a car on the damp streets. "Thank you," he said, soft. "For this."

Her eyes forward, mouth closed tight. It took her a few steps before she spoke. "You are very welcome." She cleared her throat. "And I appreciate the outside perspective."

"Interesting thing, is it not? Having a vocation."

"Being called. Yes."

"What I do not understand-- and I do not wish to, as you said, litigate the very idea of martyrdom, of course--"

"Of course. That's above my pay grade anyhow."

"But the denial inherent in your practice. The self-denial. It seems to me a, hm. Turning away from joy. You say your God is love, very well. This is removed from my experience with Christians, but I do understand that it should be the intent. To claim that divinity is love and then to willingly cut yourself off from the experience of love seems to me contradictory. Not merely the physical, although that alone seems hideous. Some people of course are not interested, but this cannot be true of all your monsastics, your clergy, your unmarried."

"This is also an old question."

"You cannot tell me it is not vital. Few people are physically martyred, and I can see the value there, even if I think it grotesque. But this seems to me a martyrdom, and willing. And pointless. Everyone should be loved, yes? Is that not your very doctrine?"

"It is, but there's different kinds of love--"

"You are dissembling. Do me the courtesy, Miss Turner, of your honesty."

Copia heard her sharp intake of breath. He had stung her, and he very nearly regretted it.

"Discourtesy wasn't my aim, Cardinal. It's an old question, and people struggle. It's maybe the struggle, for most people, the stumbling block. How can I answer you? It's kind of a personal question, y'know?"

"I can see how it would be. I do not wish to intrude, but come now. What, you offer your suffering up to God? What kind of God would ask you to give up love in the very name of love? It's monstrous!"

"The standard answer is that one becomes the bride of Christ. My thinking is, in turning away from the singular, you're better able to focus on the collective. To focus, to pay attention. And attention in its highest form is prayer."

"You deny yourself. In denial, you turn away knowledge. You said this yourself, how can you understand suffering if you have not suffered? You should know joy, or else how can you understand joy? You should be free to do that, to be in the world, and the world is here! You are here, and while you are here you should be here fully. You should allow yourself to be loved!"

He had actually raised his voice, and his words hung in the thick air, almost suspended with the humidity. He couldn't take it back, and he fell silent, mortified. They had fallen to a stop.

"It's discipline," she said, helpless. She couldn't look at him, and he had to look away at her expression.

"In any case." He cleared his throat, and resumed walking. "Discipline I understand. There is discipline in my practice, you know."

"I can see that. Dedication, certainly. Seems like the whole world's against you. The dominant social climate is not accommodating to being that outspoken about, well, anything to do with sincere belief, really, but especially in your case."

"No. And in this situation, it is easy to-- tend to isolate. To stay in one's own community. Safer. Especially in a hostile environment. Anger is easy, you would say."

"Don't I know it. You do have to live in the world. I think you and I both have cause to be angry. Hell, we're probably angry at a lot of the same things. Coming at it from opposite directions, is all."

"The hypocrisy is galling," he agreed. "If I am a monster in the eyes of these people, let me be an honest monster. They feed their children poison and tell them it is virtue, to hate, to fear, I do not--" he cut himself off, blew out a laugh. "We are angry about the same things. The work is the same. We are both called to liberate, yes?"

"Yeah, I would allow that's fairly definitional."

"Here, you take that side, I will take this one, and we will meet in the middle and cast off all oppression," he said, grandly, sweeping out an arm as if he were back on stage. He echoed her smile on pure reflex.

"And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."

"Julian of Norwich. An anchoress." Something in the concept, and in the simultaneous hope and resignation in her face, pierced his heart all the way through. She was remote, and lost to him, a marble statue of a saint. The nature of his ministry was to encourage pleasure, of mind and of body, and he did want to break her out of the cell she'd walled herself off into. Perhaps merely for his own satisfaction, when freedom was the whole of his law. Even her freedom to walk into her own cage. "Not so much to be consoled as to console," he said, halfway to himself, watching her.

"Francis of Assisi. But I think you knew that."

"I did."

"You are something else, aren't you?" She looked at him, pleased and reassessing. He felt seen, almost entire.

It was not an entirely comfortable feeling. "Ah," he said. "Perhaps."

He recognized, now, the alleyway they had walked down, the venue shuttered for the night. The only lights inside were deep in the back, distant. Likely everything had been packed away, or near enough. Likely the ghouls were wondering where he was. And she was small, and faith alone would not protect her.

It was too much for him. "It is very late. And I do not know if-- do you have a place to stay? This is not, I think, your home."

"I don't and it's not." She waved him off. "Was planning on just sleeping in the car. The seats fold down, I got a pillow, it's fine."

"I don't like it."

"Ain't about what you like." She dropped her head. "I apologize, that was rude."

"No, it is only--." He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "I do have a hotel room."

"No." It seemed reflexive. But he could see the split second flash of her face cracking open with sheer want. Watched her snatch her composure together just as quick, even as the afterimage lingered in his brain like the echo of a lightning strike. "No, I-- I do not think that would be a good idea."

"There is a couch, even. I could take the couch."

"Copia." Oh, and it was costing her. Painful to watch. That wretched self denial. "Please." A brittle little laugh, accent creeping back in as she forced herself to sound brighter. "I seen you bounce around that stage, you gonna need a mattress."

"Nothing you do not wish, Miss Turner. Never that," he said, as gently as he could. A breath of silence strung out in the thick air, the space of a heartbeat. "Anyways." He considered his position, took a breath, and made the leap. "It would be good to-- I would like to continue this argument. You have some time, no? Before you are-- fully committed. Come to Charleston. My guest. In the spirit of, eh, ecumenical dialogue."

That got a smile out of her. "I'll think about it."

"Please. Do."

"I will. I will think about it."

"In that case." He straightened his spine by three degrees, took the smallest step forward, and picked up her hand in both of his. Even though the gloves it made something catch behind his sternum, the stutter of some cog in engineering. He bowed over it as deeply as he ever had on stage, registered the barest breath of the smell of her, leather and nicotine and something like amber, a clean animal scent. It was only an instant, and he straightened with some regret. "I have enjoyed your company, Sophie."

"I--. Yes. Yeah. Me too." She squeezed his hand, once. "Very much. Be well, Cardinal." And then she slipped away.

He watched her carefully measured walk to her car, head held up with the dignity of the condemned. She opened her door and looked back for the space of one brief inhalation. Orpheus, he thought, nonsensically. He stared at her taillights, the red glow like eyes, the dragon's breath curl of exhaust, long after it had faded into the wide restless night.

It was another twenty minutes before one of the ghouls dragged him back inside.

[ultraviolet-cello]

Good afternoon everyone, late analysis/detail watch for @tristampparty today! Had a busy day and I am ready to chill out by being so so normal about Trigun ^_^

Spoilers for Trigun Stampede and Trimax, CW for me discussing/theorizing abt Vash's injuries + discussion of harm coming to children specifically!

Roberto is my old man blorbo (he is not that old) and I essayed Hard about him today, good luck reading!

So when I originally watched this episode when I saw the tower I was like oh flying saucer haha!

and then it is a flying saucer. I hate that (/j)

the bugs under the rock when I lift it up:

On a more serious note I do like the transition from Wolfwood getting REALLY jumpy (to the point of like. Punching Vash for sneezing. babygirl there are better ways to cope with bringing the man you adore to what is probably his doo- actually there probably isn't, he's on his own) to them working extremely in sync to try and get away from the guards - even in the two months that they've been traveling together they've developed that back to back fighting style. It's very sweet, and I think that aspect of them is heavily emphasized in 98 actually, episode 9 when Wolfwood first appears. I really do miss that episode's story, I think it's my favourite standalone plot :]

Again take this with a grain of salt because my subtitles are Janky, but this line hits me real hard [Where Vash is telling Wolfwood not to shoot at the July guards]. They're at July, this is where Wolfwood needs to hand Vash over despite all his inner conflict; but he values the orphanage, it's so important to him. Would the morally righteous thing to do be trying to fight alongside Vash out of this? Possibly. But the risk is too great; It's not the time to be a saint.

Both of their expressions here - Wolfwood stepping back then forward to try and push Vash out the way, or block the bullet, and Vash just slowly lowering his arms with that real haunted look.

Studio Orange once again knocking it out of the PARK with their facial expressions

[Purging the Vashwood from my system for just a moment] He really does just. Grab him around the waist huh. He doesn't try to spin Vash around to assess the damage, or immediately drag him away, but most importantly he doesn't shoot back. Not after Vash asked him to.

Why's this bitch not clean his table!!! The hell!!! Unsanitary. Or... Or someone was just there. Not sure what's worse at that point. It's also that the shape of that cross is also to accommodate children

[Tucking these screenshots into my purse for safekeeping] [Also CWing this section for a little bit of injury discussion] Most of the injuries here aren't necessarily the scars that Trimax and 98 Vash have, which makes me wonder if he's going to get more post-July. In any case, a lot of these look like failed/only partial skin grafts or wounds that required skin grafts but did not get it [Just trust me on that, don't look it up if you can't stomach gore].

I wonder if Vash can't receive skin grafts due to the sheer amount of scarring/can't receive any donated grafts due to differences in biology, or if he's just... not been able to get them healed. Some of it appears to be patched up with metal, but the rest of it.... Mm.

Anyway!

I think it's very telling that the thing that Roberto starts really speaking up on is challenging Conrad on his treatment of orphans and disadvantaged people. Roberto's a reporter, so of course he's going to have seen how powerful people often use the marginalized as their playthings; and Roberto does have a pretttty good moral code when it comes to it. Time and time again he's chosen to help Meryl instead of preserve his own life.

And now he's actively taking Meryl's side, challenging Conrad, sticking up for people, which. One of the first hints of Roberto that we got that wasn't him being so gruff was his defense of Vash (who was getting the shit beaten out of him) in the very first episode.

I've talked at length abt how children are. Kind of the most precious thing to most people on Gunsmoke/NML - so many of the individual stories revolve around parents and children, brothers, siblings, Wolfwood and Hopeland, Legato sparing all the children in that village in 98, Elendira leaving a gaggle of children alive to bury Livio in Trimax. I particularly remember a scene in Trimax volume 14, chapter 3, when the feathers are falling and a young girl has lost her mother, but these big rough and tough men guide her back. I think that's kind of the essence of what Roberto represents to me.

The average person on that planet is rough, traumatized, probably knows how to shoot, they kill each other, they rob, they steal. And yet when it comes down to a little girl crying in the crowd, they will guide her back to her mother. Noman's Land is made up of families; they hurt each other and they commit atrocities, but at the end of the day, that was someone's child, and people try to respect it.

Roberto has a bit of a stronger ethical streak, but he's really kinda hostile to Conrad in this scene (GET HIS ASS ROBERTO WOOO!!!) and I think when he saw children involved that really signaled part of it to him.

It's also that Roberto has developed as a character, being more open and trusting of Meryl, but I also just. The family thing gets me every time (I think it's because I work with children and am a huge advocate for said children, but. yaknow)

[Pointing at him] I love this guy!!! I miss him!!! I really really thought I was gonna hate him but every rewatch i get sadder that he's gone!!!!!

Also he calls out Conrad on being non-empathetic towards, well experimenting on children which is yeah!!! shit!!! Roberto shuts him down like 3 times!! "What matters is how you feel with these children in front of you" GET! HIS! ASS!

Roberto has progressed so so much, with his ability to actually insert himself into situations according to his opinions and ethics, with his relationship to Meryl becoming softer, and then he's just,,, Gone, soon.

On a lighter note, tf you mean Elendira's powers are equivalent to a supply door Conrad she can kill a man!!! I spose a supply door can also kill a man but like. I wonder if she's gonna get. Bigger nails. More powers in the future.

Also a nice parallel of how Roberto kept dragging Meryl back and flinging her away from danger, but now he's grabbed her and is carrying her with him - it feels different. He really really does care about her and it's so evident in these last couple of episodes.

Also Meryl is just pick up-able what can I say.

Roberto being shocked at his ability to deflect Elendira's nails just feels kinda cruel. Man's been spending the entire anime facing horrors beyond his comprehension and he just figured out he can fight against this one, but in the end she's the one who gets him.

Also I talked about Roberto being really standoffish when he realizes children are being harmed? Uh, that's probably what gets him killed. If he'd have shot Elendira here, there is a decent chance he would have lived; if he hadn't hesitated the several times he did, he wouldn't be so rattled. That's... Painful.

"That was close" I hate everyone here [/j]

Not an unpopular opinion, but I'm not a super fan of what they did to Elendira. I'm of the opinion of her character divorced from her Trimax counterpart is really really interesting, but I have to treat her like an entirely different character, so we'll be moving on with that in mind.

So Elendira's been like this for what, twenty years at least? That doesn't seem to line up with how Plants age - Vash and Knives take like 5 years to look like they're fifteen, and. I hope we all know that humans typically take 18-20 years to reach adulthood lmao.

My three theories on why she hasn't aged is that

A) Whichever Plant cells (Probably Tesla's) that they used on her is inhibiting her growth, disallowing her from progressing past a certain point. Perhaps if she ages more something... Bad will happen to her body. Sub-idea, if it is Tesla's cells, they might not be letting her age past the point Tesla was when she died. Which is a little horrific actually.

B) Conrad and/or Knives are the ones not allowing her to grow, for some reason. I don't really have any ideas of what.

But it seems to me that she is somewhat inverse to Wolfwood; she's been living for at least twenty years, trapped in the mind and body of a child. She speaks with the cadence and articulation of an adult most of the time, but her body's pain tolerance and her subsequent reactions are that of an undeveloped mind/body.

That or she just doesn't wanna go through puberty because she's already trans and just doesn't wanna deal with that shit (valid) but, yaknow. I am a very big supporter of "Let Studio Orange cook, they've done pretty good so far!" but Elendira and Razlo are the two I am. Most scared of seeing how they turn out lmao, and even with Razlo I do have some hopes. But Elendira,,, man. I dunno.

Hooo boy. Okay. I'm ready to talk about Roberto again now. I've been talking about how he recently seems to have softened his demeanor specifically towards Meryl, bringing out a lot of that joking tone, but here is particularly on display.

He tells Meryl that it's okay to run away sometimes and that really really. Got to me. Like he wants her to live. He wants her to do whatever she thinks is right, and he wants her to live, and he is going to do what he can in his dying moments to make that better for her.

I miss him :(

I also wonder if he had anything outside of his job. Friends? Family? A partner? Or was he mostly obliterated along with most of July, kept only in memory by his, now Meryl's, derringer?

Also Vash does Not know that Roberto is dead and if he asks about him post-rejoining the gang in season 2 I'll start screaming.

Oh Knives is here! Yippee!!

So uh. The thing with him saying this is, like a Lot of things Knives does/says in Tristamp, is rooted in truth to some degree.

Like uh. Yeah. That is kind of the basis for a Major part of Vash's personality, the guilt complex of Knives shifting the burden and (honestly projecting a lot of his own guilt probably) onto Vash. But to attribute All of Vash's character to just that is disservice, and horrible for Vash to hear.

The thing about Vash is that he tries. He tries so so hard to make things right, even despite the harm that comes to him and the grief and pain of how he lives his life. Even if it were just his guilt, that is still 150 or so years of healing plants, helping children, going from town to town to do what good he can.

Love, in that case, is not inherent, but created. It's hard to just unconditionally love something just because it's in your life, but if you work at it, dedicate yourself, put in the effort, do so much good, then is that not love in itself? Does it really matter the basis if you love, regardless?

Where it becomes a problem with Vash, is when he refuses to kind of,,, accept that he worked for it instead of just having that love inherent to him, because he's so desperate to hold that guilt complex, that "I'm a bad person" close to him

I dunno, I'm autistic, so maybe I have a strange reading of this because I personally have had to work towards the things I hold dear to me, but it's,,, definitely a facet of Vash, to me.

I Do Not Like This Photograph. In Trimax, it seems they took Tesla and Immediately began experimenting on her - Some arguments over ethics with Rem, yeah, but overall the dissenters were overruled. But why have this picture? Tesla is clearly not a baby in this image. Did she have more contact and interactions with the scientists?

The cruelty in Tesla's story, at least in my view, is that she never got to be a character. Her agency was stripped from her by scientists, by death, and then by Knives. We don't know shit about her - did she die cursing all of humanity? Would she have agreed with Knives, that the pain inflicted on her was an example of the great atrocity of humanity? Or would she have decided people can grow and change, that she just got a bad lot, that people are messy and complicated but ultimately capable of love? Did she see Rem, and wonder if she knew humanity better than Tesla did?

We just don't know - will never know - and that's why Knives using her as an excuse for his actions is particularly egregious. Did her death traumatize him and irreparably damage his trust of humans, sending him down a spiral he was too unlucky to fight his way out of? Yes. Does that make it justifiable to try and commit a genocide under her name, assuming she would have wanted that even if there's a possibility she didn't? ....Definitely not.

millions-dykes referred to Conrad as looking "DILFy" in this scene and if I have to suffer that, so do you. sorry

There's a couple of bits of language in that ending scene that I find particularly uh. Interesting (derogatory) (deeply interesting and analysis-worthy), but I'll be saving those for next episode so I'll pop them in there :]

Today was a hell of an essay! Thanks for reading as always, I'm so >:3 about all the fun comments and ideas ppl have added on.

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

dad on a saturday

annie woke up lightly hungover next to ryan in her bed. she didn't remember him coming over, but still had her panties on, so they didn't fuck. she probably texted him and then passed out didn't wake up. she checked her messages and confirmed it. good girl, annie.

but she took her panties off now, and climbed on top of ryan to wake him up. she'd make up for it now. and he was already hard -- morning wood -- so she had him inside her before he was really awake.

"hey there," he said. she was already grinding on his cock.

"shut up and let me fuck you," she said.

"ok," he said.

she rubbed her clit as she bounced, and soon she was gasping and he was unloading inside her.

ryan went to the shower immediately -- he wanted to hit the gym. annie stayed in bed, dozing and leaking peacefully. then her phone rang. her dad was calling her on facetime.

"hey dad," she said.

"still in bed? rise and shine, kid!" he said. "i was wondering if you wanted to come to an antique car show with me."

"sure," annie said. "when?"

"i'll pick you up in like a half hour?"

"i might need longer than that," she said.

"well, hurry up," he said.

"okay." she got out of bed and walked with her phone into the kitchen, forgetting that she'd paired her ipad and iphone together -- it was an app therapists used for remote clients and she never remembered to turn it off -- such that as she wandered into the kitchen, looking for coffee, she saw her father's face on the upright ipad on the counter, and in the smaller window, her full body and her exposed bush.

her mind flashed briefly to ted's daughter, and she resisted the urge to cover herself with her hand.

"sorry," she said, chuckling casually. "my phone and my ipad are paired."

"kind cool," he said.

"sorry about my bush," she said.

"bush is fine," he said. "i've seen those before."

and so she talked with her dad for a few more minutes like that, bush out, feeling increasingly confident as she did. then she hung up and finished getting ready for the day. he was at her door as she finished getting dressed.

she'd followed her father in the family business, so they talked about their current patients. she told him about the slap. he told her he'd been punched a few times. it was a sign that she was pushing the right buttons.

they looked at old cars and then went to lunch. she asked him how her mother was.

"your mother is your mother," he said. "you can ask her yourself."

"she wouldn't tell me," annie said.

"maybe so," he said. "how's ryan?"

"i don't know," she said. "we don't talk, really."

"do you have sex?"

she laughed. "yes."

"well, maybe that's all you need. do you really need a lot of people to listen to you? aren't you the one who listens?"

"yes," she said. "but so are you. and when you are i are together we manage to fill a conversation."

"i think if you feel like you need more people to listen to you it's not a judgment on your boyfriend it's a judgment on some insecurity. what are you doing wrong lately?"

impulsively, annie admitted to having sexual feelings about ted.

"well, that's normal," he said. "just let the energy of that feed your work."

"i'm a little worried there's no work to DO," she said. "honestly, the problem is his wife."

"that's facile," he said. "and never the case."

"i think i found the one time it is," she said. "and i think i keep him around for my own reasons."

"well, figure that shit out," he said. "tell carlos."

"that's your solution," she said. "not a more fulfilling romantic relationship. just more therapy."

"works for me," he said. "if your mom and i didn't fuck we'd be divorced. that's all we really need from each other. we don't even need the company. i have my friends, i have you and your brother."

"what hope is there for me if that's your romantic outlook?"

"romance isn't everything." he said. "it's barely even a top five thing."

in the late afternoon, annie snorted some adderall and cleaned her apartment. then she smoked weed in front of the TV, wondering if ryan would come over and whether or not she had the energy to fuck.

she got an email from jim. jim as in, julia's boyfriend? she checked. he'd emailed her professional account, meaning he'd looked her up. "just wanted to see how you were doing, you seemed pretty tipsy last night, hope you're well, we should hang out soon! -J"

"i was fine," annie replied. "not very drunk at all. just enough to make good decisions." she smiled at herself and sent it.

"want to get coffee next week?" jim wrote back, very quickly.

[thevagabondexpress]

Can't believe I've never asked you for them, but could I please have some Christopher headcanon 🤲🏻

Okay. Christopher headcanons. Go.

A) He hates ties. He feels like the kind of person who'd just. Hate ties. And also collars because of the way collars were starched back then. It's too restrictive, and something scratches every time he turns his head. So whenever he can he wears sweaters (which were just barely coming into fashion at the time) to avoid that, and if he can't then he wears bow ties because at the very least those don't pose an occupational hazard if they come untucked from your shirt/waistcoat.

B) He sets stuff on fire on purpose more often than you'd think. Specifically he burns old paper that he knows for sure he's never going to need again (grocery receipts once the taxes have been done and notes telling his mum he'll be late for lunch and stuff like that) and clothes he's irreparably ruined. It's an efficient method of disposal, it serves a practical purpose in keeping the laboratory warm, and depending on what it was that ruined the shirt he's burning, it might turn the fire blue or green. Matthew keeps a hawk's eye on this practice to make sure Christopher doesn't set fire to anything anyone is actually going to care about, but Kit doesn't have any intentions to.

C) He's also not, actually, a shit cook. I see this a lot in fanfics but I actually think he'd be reasonably good at it. Baking is an edible form of chemistry, and I think he'd enjoy stir fry because pop! sizzle! spatter! There's plenty of appeal there for someone who's not afraid of explosions. However he's not really into cooking for other people (he already doesn't like parties that much, the idea of entertaining is a huge no) so nobody will probably ever know this unless they're actively living with him.

D) He seems to be well known and well loved at the Shadow Market. While he obviously interacts with that world differently from the way Anna or Matthew do, I think Christopher also thrives in the Downworld spaces he visits. He's not threatening, he doesn't have his nose in the air, but he's also not scared of these people, he doesn't get nervous being in a room full of werewolves. He's just a guy who pays well for mushrooms and maybe he's not going to remember your name but for some reason he'll remember that your little brother sprained his wrist doing something stupid last week and probably ask after him.

E) Speaking of memory, I think his works a lot like mine does. The things neurotypical people think are important, like names and deadlines and grocery lists, just get lost in the ether. But if it's a weird little detail? Oh, he'll remember it to the end of time. Does he remember your name? No. Does he remember what medals your grandfather earned when he served in the war? Yes. Does he remember that he was supposed to buy celery? No. Does he know eight common names for celery as well as the scientific one? Yes. Stuff like that. At first you think he never remembers anything. Then you begin to think he never forgets anything. Come to find out, both are equally true, at the same time.

F) He grinds his own glasses lenses. He employs a jeweller at the Shadow Market to make the frames, but he makes the lenses himself and adjusts their strength on his own. While he needs the glasses to see they also can be really annoying in some circumstances, especially battle, so he's spent years developing glue that he can use to keep them on his head in a fight (and solution to safely dissolve the glue later), and shatterproof lenses, and more effective cleaning solution, and even a primitive antifogger.

G) Personally I headcanon him as having both autism and ADHD and one of my reasons for the autism headcanon is I think he's a hyposensitive/low-pain autistic. He tolerates cuts and burns to a far greater extent than other people would. While he'd never hurt himself on purpose (in fact, if you ever brought up the idea, he'd probably look at you like you'd suggested he was an elephant), he'll take, say, a pretty good cut to the shoulder from an exploding beaker, and only realize he's bleeding when he goes to see why his shirt feels wet. He's the kind of person who could get an absolutely massive full-color tattoo and it'd just feel like little scratches. What he would want a tattoo of I don't know though, I don't think I could see him with one.

H) This is a lot less lighthearted than stuff previous, but I'm going to dig into that "if he lived" hypothetical again. Personally I think, once he woke up from the coma/came back from the dead/what have you, I think he would've been disappointed and maybe a little annoyed with Grace about the fire messages. She credits the first one as "invented by Christopher Lightwood and sent by Grace Blackthorn" but I think in his eyes, while she used his research, Grace was the one to complete the invention and she ought to take equal credit for it. I don't think he'd ever really understand what she was trying to do there with saying only that she sent them. As you've probably noticed, while I like both of these characters a lot, I don't need them to have a completely tragedy-free story and this is one of those pieces of how I think it would realistically have panned out.

[sassysoulstranger]

Michael Afton x Charlotte Emily (Siren) AU

Mermaids are nymphs of the sea who deceive sailors with their great beauty and the sweetness of their song; from head to navel they have the body of a virgin and a human shape, but they have a scaly fish tail which they always hide in the sea.

But do not be fooled by their beauty, they are a symbol of bad luck. They can swim through fresh water to reach rivers and lakes to drown their victims, making you think they are drowning people. They are rumoured to be able to cure diseases.

Many legends told by sailors say that they are large monsters, up to 600m long, capable of sinking ships without leaving a trace.

What makes them feared is their beautiful voice, which can hypnotise you. So sweet, tender and melodious, it is said that they inhabit the islands and lure sailors with such a song, causing them to collide with the reefs and drag them to the depths of the ocean to eat them.

-Sirens…- he murmured, deep in thought. He leaned against the railing and read an old book that the librarian, Henry Emily, had recommended to him. He doesn't believe in such things, but for a boat trip like this, it's something to keep him entertained.

He almost dropped the book into the sea It was just Jeremy smiling mockingly at him with a mop in his hand, he frowned and sighed.

-I just wanted to take my mind off things, it's boring just looking at the horizon- He wasn't lying, there was just water, water and more water, not a sign of another boat or rocks.

-Genius, if you are so bored you can clean the gunwale yourself. Your only job is to make sure we don't go straight into the reefs and sink the boat- Jeremy continued scrubbing the floor with more intensity.

-I was in charge of cleaning the gunwale before you, I have a lot more boat experience than you- he mocked his friend, sticking out his tongue and laughing with him, his attention returning to the ocean and a peace filling him at the stillness of the water.

-How long do you think it will take us to get home?- Jeremy was standing next to him now, admiring the ocean in the same way, although unlike him, he seemed a little anxious.

-Michael watched the dolphins chasing each other in the distance, but I'm pretty sure it'll only take us three days to get there.

-What do you base that on?

-Well, I've been sailing the same boat with Dad for years, let's just say that in these areas where there are dolphins it would take us three days to see land, and if we had a mishap it would take us another day- they were silent for a long time.

Jeremy cleared his throat-I mean, sometimes the sailors in the harbour talk about ships disappearing lately, and in a way I was a bit nervous when I got on this boat.

-So why did you come?- Jeremy leaned his arms on the railing and looked down to see his blurred silhouette in the water.

-I hate being called a not real man every time we say goodbye at the harbour, I'm always the laughing stock of most of the citizens, they've even given me a nickname like faggot- Michael softened his gaze as he saw tears peeking out of his friend's eyes, -even my mother thinks that, it makes me feel hurt, I don't want her to be disappointed in me.

Michael put his hand on his friend's back to comfort him.

-Hey, most of the assholes you meet on the docks are drunk shits who've been divorced more than three times, it's not like they're the pride of the town. I like you a lot better than all of them, and just because you're a wimp or too sentimental doesn't make you any less of a man, you're a great mate just the way you are.

Unexpectedly, Jeremy hugged Michael with tears in his eyes but a big smile on his face, which made him laugh and return the hug. They parted in a comfortable silence, Michael now telling little anecdotes of his father's travels. From the most peaceful to the most terrifying he had ever experienced in his life.

They were now in the cabins where Jeremy was staying, Michael sitting next to Jeremy's bed, who was leaning curiously on the book Michael had on the table.

-Do you believe in mermaids?- the question surprised him.

-Why the question?

-I've seen you reading the same page all day, you didn't even notice me when I was cleaning near you,Jeremy grabbed the book and looked for the page he was talking about -Right here, unless you have some unknown fetish- he looked at him flirtatiously as he wiggled him eyebrows up and down, causing Michael to laugh.

-Stop- he grab the book between laughs and look at the page with the silhouette of a mermaid, his expression softening a little- I'm just curious, the librarian talks a lot about mermaids, every time I go to get some books for the trip he warns me about them Not that I believe in such things, I've never seen one or another craft warn of them.

-Perhaps those who heard them are in the depths of the ocean- Jeremy scoffed -that would explain the disappearance of many ships.

-Of course, if you take away the fact that many idiots believe that the ocean is a game and that they should take every little warning lightly.- Both young men were startled to see William leaning against the door with his arms crossed and a threatening look on his face -If you've stopped playing games, I'll need you to start securing the knots, Michael.

-Yes, sir- Michael said, a little discouraged, but he got up immediately and walked out of the cabins.

-I suggest you get some sleep, Jeremy- William spoke more calmly now -we'll start early tomorrow, I don't want any delays.

-Yes, sir- William gave him a nod before closing the door and heading for the cellar.

.

.

.

Michael could still hear the lively music and laughter of some of the sailors from inside the ship, at this time of night it was common for some of them to take the liberty of relaxing, and he could also secure the things on the gunwale more quietly without distraction.

The night was beautiful, the moon illuminating everything around him and the sea was clear. He checked each of the assigned knots, that nothing was out of place, that everything was in order, that it would be safe while the rest of the crew slept, that the night watchmen would not have to worry about the rest.

Michael continued on his way until he reached the side of the ship where he admired the beauty of the moon, the icy breeze and the movement of the waves.

He wanted to admire the beauty of the scenery before returning to get ready for bed, but in addition to the loud sound of the passing waves, a melody could be heard in the distance.

It was high pitched, the more he concentrated on finding its source the closer he could hear it, a fleeting thought crossed his mind that it was a mermaid, it couldn't be just any animal, it sounded like a woman's song and it was coming from the sea.

Michael moved closer to the shore and saw something moving through the water, the silhouette looked human and was moving in circles. Her singing grew louder and the silhouette in the water now seemed to be swimming to the surface.

Then he saw her, a slender, fair-skinned woman with beautifully straightened auburn hair. She was singing in a lulling coo, almost heavenly to anyone's ears, and Michael was impressed by what he saw.

Her cooing stopped and she looked up at him, her eyes glowing in the dark, he wasn't sure what colour they were, but she looked frightened to see him. The silence seemed to last forever between the two of them, just admiring each other, until the sound of footsteps behind Michael scared the girl away.

-Wait!- He could see no trace of her, as if she had never been there.

-Mr Afton, your father sent me to make sure everything is all right- Michael did not answer,-Mr Afton?

-It's all right, Dave.- Michael didn't dare look him in the eye and walked into the cabin.

He didn't wait for an answer and hurried back to his quarters, something about this night didn't feel real. The woman's face would not leave his mind.

[delicatebluebirdruins]

the Devil is in the Details

in inventory: email From: Mia Winters Sent: July 18, 2017 11:04PM Tuesday To: Ethan Winters Dulvey, Louisiana. Baker farm. Come get me.

simple to the point almost as if the sender was worried to much might alert Ethan to some thing. I know the common thoughts is Mia did actually send this but my main thought is when? as she is in the cell has been since late 2015 and the doors are locked

Jacks diary: rec room. for timelines sake these are Oct 2014

October 2 Reports say a storm's coming. I had a lot of trouble cleaning up after the last one a few years back. I guess it's time to reinforce the windows and shore up the roof. Maybe I'll get Lucas to help.

October 9 The water has finally receded. The house is alright, but the old house was badly damaged. Lucas is making a fuss about a huge ship that's washed up in the bayou. If that's true, I better report it to the parish. I'll go check it out tomorrow.

Travis memo: drawer in safe room

Dear Courtney,Those bastards are looking for me, but maybe this gives you a chance to escape.To escape, you have to find the reliefs shaped like dog heads. I saw one of the heads in the dissection room underground. Get it. It's the key out of here. Something's wrong with me. It must have been that shit they made me eat. If I'm gonna die, I'd at least like to go out fighting.I'm gonna get a hold of that shotgun I saw in the rec room and make them regret what they did to me. You need to get out of here. I love you, Courtney. Love, Travis

a guy doing his best to help his love get away (this is the guy who Jack mentions in the memo we also find in the rec room who caused the stronger shotgun to be broken)

how to unlock the door in the morgue

Lucas,I caught the guy who keeps trying to escape. I've locked him up in the leftmost incinerator so he can't get away again. Take him out when he's ready.You know how to open the door, don't you? Just remember: 3 a's and a handprint. Do what you want with his girl.

this is Travis this is what happens to him. My main problem is what happened to Courtney? the least thing is her turning into Molded but it takes a time

Mrs Baker: locked room attached to the rec room

How have you been feeling recently? It's been a long time since you came in for your last check-up. I'm writing to tell you that I've finished examining your X-rays. Those dark areas in your cranium are fungus-like structures that seem to be related to mold. The hallucinations and noises you said you've been hearing may be related to these growths. If your symptoms are due to a fungal parasite, it must be removed before it's too late. I don't mean to scare you, but I am seriously concerned for your health.Please come to the hospital as soon as you read this letter. As your doctor, I strongly recommend you undergo further tests.Crawford Lang,Dulvey General Hospital

But I find that fungus like structures bit interesting I can't remember who thought about it playing RE4R and what Ramon was doing but this is for them.

Zoe's notes: trailer

My body's feeling weirder and weirder. Soon I'll become like mom and dad. It's all her fault. Should I run? No, I can't. I'm dead if she finds out. That woman she was with, Mia, She knows something. If I had the serum I could cure myself. I have to find out more.

I wonder when this was written. I think its around the time Mia got locked up (because having a talk with someone violent can be a bit difficult) and I wonder if this was the cataylist for them trying to help people (I doubt it was Zoe doing it on her own. She still had to learn how to combine the d series arm and head to get the basic serum)

Margurites warning Old House bird door

Zoe, You tried to sneak up to the second floor again, didn't you?! Did you think I wouldn't notice?!?! Even after what happened to Eveline, you just keep talking about some strange medicine. And what are you planning to do with my altar? You better keep those sticky fingers off of it! Nobody touches my sacred altar! You think your father and I are idiots?! You spoiled pathetic child….I wish youd NevEr been born. UnforGIVably pathetic yet always lookingDOWN on uS aNd trying to Leave our HOME! After EVERYthing WE'VE done for YOU… PatheticPATHETICpathetic pathetic…If you EVER even touch my altar I'll slice off your chest and serve it up as potroast…

first the idea of Zoe trying to reach through to her parents but Evies control was too much for them

second these were written at two different times. the first half being Margurite being more like herself and the other half that just sounds angry? It seems more like Evie would say that to be honest

Margurites Diary

October 11 My ears have been ringing all day and I haven't been able to sleep since the child showed up. It's like Zoe says: There's something strange about the child, and the woman she brought with her.

-Evie has been at the Baker house for a little under a day (she arrived on the Oct 10th) so Margurites sleep schedule must be very regular for her to notice it being messed up.

-Its a interesting choice of words talking about how strange Evie and Mia are and who brought what (maybe Margurite was dreaming the ship wreck and how it got destroyed)

October 15 I'm seeing things, hearing things, can't stop feeling nauseious. I went to see the doctor in town and he gave me an X-ray. What's happening to me?

October 23 The child gave me a present.

October- I put the present in the secret room right at the back of the second floor, where nobody will find it. That arm is a sign of the child's trust. That arm will lead us to happiness1 And anyone who corrupts that happiness... I won't allow them to live.

1ahem cult cult cult cult. all jokes aside considering what we know of Miranda and the word choice in daughters

corruption meaning: to make someone or something become dishonest or immoral

Jim's letter: Wrecked ship bunk room 1st Deck (where the fuse is)

Dear Janet, Hey, how's it going? I guess half a year or so will have passed by the time you get this letter. Life is so boring here. Day after day, just the same old sea. Although there is one thing that's different.This time we have some passengers sailing with us, which hardly ever happens.It's a couple with a young girl. I think they're distant relatives of the captain. Imagine, traveling on a tanker instead of a passenger ship. They must be hard up! I tried talking to the little girl earlier and her dad shot me this nasty look. What's he so worried about? Now that I think of it, the captian said he didn't even have any relatives… Maybe I'm overthinking this. I miss you. Love, Jim

a little hint of time to how long the Annabelle was expected to be at sea (mentioned in my Mia and Alan post)

poor Jim I wonder how he died. I wonder how Janet is doing as she like every other person waiting for news on the crew was feeling. I wonder if anyone else was suspicious about Mia, Alan and Evie.

Giovannis Will Bunk room 1st deck

It's too late for us, but at least I can let the world know what happened here. I was on night shift yesterday, so I was taking a nap in the bunk room around noon. I was half asleep and I heard a kid, a little girl, laughing. Or was that all in my head? I woke up at 19:30: there was some sort of ruckus in the passageway. Drew, one of the engineers, came in and said there was something going on down below, maybe a riot. He looked pale in the face. He told me he was going down to check it out, but he never came back. It must have been around 19:50 when I heard the scream. I went to the laundry room to check and saw Clark being eaten by some sort of black-ish monster. The monster turned and started coming towards me, huge, shark-like teeth snapping in its jaw. I just screamed like a little girl and ran for it. Now I'm huddled up in the bunk room, shaking as I write this. There's a whole host of those creatures lurking in the passageways now. I can still hear screams now and then, but there's no way I'm going out there now. And that's it: I've written everything I know. Giovanni Finetti

depending on how you play the wrecked ship you can find before you play the tape. Giovanni was infected at some point because he heard Evie laughing

Orders 2nd floor safe room

Special Operations Division Director Alan Droney and Caretaker Mia Winters: Recent reports suggest that if Eveline remains at her current location, she is at a high risk of being stolen by opposing organizations. Your orders, therefore, are to transfer Eveline to our Central American branch for safe keeping until further notice. During transfer, be sure to adhere to the following protocols: Act as parental guardians for Eveline at all times to avoid suspicion. Manage Eveline's vitals via the Genome Codex provided. If the mission is compromised beyond reconciliation, dispose of Eveline

not to keep harping on the things but Alan is Mia's boss and Mia was low on the food chain not only is this an example of dehumanising Evie its also kinda dehumaninsing Mia because from indeed the description of a caretaker is: A Caretaker, or Janitor or a Site Manager, takes care of the security and maintenance of community buildings. Their duties include cleaning, performing simple repairs and maintenance tasks and performing security checks for the buildings in their care.

we don't know who the threat was (partially BSAA but the others? who knows)

avoid suspicion my ass I say this because there were better ways to deal with this sending someone who actually knew kids. Not acting weird when seen by other people on the ship Alan.

another moment of dehuminisation of Evie and they skip straight to "beyond reconciliation" which again makes me doubt they wanted Evie to get to where she was going

Email log salt mines

Sent: Friday, January 16, 2015 12:42 AM Thanks to you guys it's been about a week since my head's been clear and back to normal. And she STILL thinks she's got me! You guys really need to work on fixing that. Not only does she look like a little kid, but she's about as stupid as one, too. Mom and dad are still totally under though. I was wondering. Is the whole "family" obsession something you guys programmed into her? It's kinda fucked up.

so the Bakers were gradually taken over begining from 10th Oct 2014 so this is three? months later. How were the Connections searching for them or did he find a way to contact them from using the boxes containing the d series arm and head?

Sent: Friday, November 4, 2015 2:10 AM That bitch Mia is still somewhere in between Evie-La-La Land and reality. She gets pretty violent, so I locked her up in a cell. I thought maybe Eveline would get mad since Mia's her favorite and all, but she doesn't seem to care. She actually goes and visits her sometimes. She thinks Mia's her mommy. Like I said, your "bioweapon" is fucked up.

so a little longer between Jan and November. I wonder what act of violence was the catalyst for Mia being locked up for 2/3 years. I wonder what Evie was thinking "doesn't seem to care" because of her upbringing I would say it just seemed normal to her? I wonder if it was during these visits they learn of Ethan's existence?

Sent: Friday, September 1, 2016 1:10 AM Eveline's family obsession is getting out of hand. She's making everyone kidnap more and more assholes off the street to add to her freak show of a family. Maybe she's getting tired of Mia not coming around, but it's a pain in the ass for me because I gotta clean up the mess whenever someone new comes along. By the way, Evie's looking sick or something. Her skin is getting all wrinkly and she's getting grey hairs. Is that supposed to happen? It's almost like she's getting old all of a sudden.

Mia still holding strong against Evie's desires despite being in the cell. I wonder what was going through Evie's head when she wanted more people to join the family

Infection Report

This report details the symptoms that appear when the bacterium* that grows inside the E-Series infects a human. Be sure to read this document throughly before dealing with E-Series weaponized assets. Hereafter referred to as "mold". Initial Infection. The mold ingests nutrients from the subject's body to propagate itself, and slowly takes over cells within the body. As a side effect of this, the infected subject gains remarkable regenerative abilities. During experiments, we removed arms and legs from test subjects and found that they were able to coapt the amputated limbs in a matter of minutes. Mid-stage Infection: Once the mold reaches the brain, the subject's thoughts become "in tune" with those of the E-Series asset. If this state continues, the host will lose all sense of ego. Complete Infection: After every cell in the body has been taken over by the mold, the subject begins to lose their human form. Physical mutations differ from case to case, but all result in him or her acquiring incredible physical strength. Containing a subject at this stage would be extremely difficult.

Zombie Ant Fungus (information from Britannica) Once the fungal mass inside an infected ant reaches a critical size (usually about 16–24 days following infection), the ant is induced to leave its nest at different times than its regular foraging habits, and it fails to walk along established ant trails. Infected ants are generally unresponsive to external stimuli, including other ants... Carpenter ants in areas with zombie-ant fungus have evolved a number of adaptations to limit their exposure to the parasite. Carpenter ants in infested areas tend to be more arboreal than those without the fungus threat, suggesting that they avoid the forest floor to limit exposure to the spores. They also practice social grooming and can remove spores from each other’s bodies before infection can occur. The ants have also been observed to carry infected members of the colony away from the nest and from their usual ant trails on the forest floor to reduce the spread of spores to high traffic areas, and they are known to actively avoid the graveyards of infected dead.

nothing more needs to be said does it?

Report One (much of this is redacted) salt mine still you can read the full thing here. but i'm focusing on the bits that stood out to me.

This project was instigated in 2000 as one of several concepts for the company's NEXBAS (next-generation experimental battlefield superiority) initiative, working with technical assistance from H.C.F., to develop a bioweapon for neutralizing combatants en masse with minimal direct contact. NEXBAS was later folded, and all its assets diverted to this project. What makes this project markedly different from conventional weapons is its ability to turn enemy combatants into allies; converting hostile elements into willing servants... The resultant organisms were referred to as "candidate specimens" and graded based on usability, from the impratical and faulty Series A through D, to the perfected E-Series. A common appearance was selected for the bioweapons; that of a roughly ten-year-old girl, to ensure ease of blending in with urban/refugee populations... Eveline's control is exerted in a series of discrete stages, the first of which is hallucination. Almost immediately after infection, the subject begins to see images of Eveline (though she is not in fact there) and hear her voice (which is inaudible to anyone else). Auditions with infected subjects throughout the stages of infection reveal that at first, the phantom Eveline appears to be a normal young girl, sometimes desiring companionship or assistance. As time progresses, she begins making more and more extreme demands, including self-mutilation and attacks on other people. The psychological shock this induces helps to break down the mind's natural barriers to Eveline's brainwashing effect, and by the time mental control is achieved, the mutamycete infection has progressed throughout the body's cells...

1 H.C.F. is Wesker he was in charge of it for a time and it and he was behind the events of code veronica

2 this was Evie's sales pitch. Essentially Evie being dropped into a combat zone she would be able to stop the fighting (the regenerative factor was just a bonus)

3 from the way this is worded the other mutamycete experiments had different looks, but for the way they were going to use them a 10 year old child is best.

4 what happened to Ethan is he heard her first and heard her after getting the arm

5 we see all this happen with Jack when he stabbed himself and attacks Margurite and Zoe

Report 2

... The researchers have been calling these super-organisms the "Molded"; made of mold, and also molded as in "shaped". The name has a certain elegance to it. For the treatment of accidental infections, performing □□□□□ on samples of Eveline's body tissue produces a unique fungicidal serum. 1 Administering the serum to an infected subject will cause the mycelia to calcify, but if the subject's cells are already largely invaded, the serum will be fatal. 2 Since the treatment window is so small, the serum's primary use is therefore disposal of infected subjected, rather than a cure. In exploring the serum's potential, we found that subjecting it to □□□□□ would enhance its effects to extreme potency, becoming a compound we now call E-Necrotoxin, which □□□□□□□□□□□□□ in even tiny amounts. 3 What's been interesting to observe in Eveline's behavior is her obsession with the concept of family. In experiments, we found multiple occasions that infected subjects were compelled to act as her "mother" or "father", treating her as if she were really their daughter.Why did she settle upon family as the theme for her mental control? This is just speculation, but it could be that she instinctively understands that a family unit is better suited to blending into social groups than a lone girl. On the other hand…well, a sentimental sort might suggest she's making up for a perceived lack of "love" in her quarantined upbringing. A parent's love.

1 see this in the boathouse

2 say it with me the serum that Zoe was putting a lot of hope on is basic and wouldn't have worked either way (I didn't think of this at the time but this is why Alan didn't suggest getting the serum prepared for him when he was still alive)

3 I would say its both due to her own wants and what she can infer from around. And this also part of why Village is a little stupid at parts because of the picture we see with Miranda and Evie wearing what she was when getting on the boat so either Miranda didn't have much direct contact with the clone of her daughter or she did and for the sake of brevity the author of the report didn't mention her. I say its the latter. Miranda and the Connections at large are the worst either way.

[bondsmagii]

Do you have any stories of having guests over and them doing some unhinged shit right at your place? I'll start: a few years ago I had a friend her kids over, we were having a great dinner when suddenly her 6 year old wanted to go to the bathroom. Someone normal would have just taken their kid to the bathroom, right? Well, my friend decided that it was best to bring the kid's potty chair and make her take a shit right in the middle of the living room (which is completely exposed because there's a giant picture window) while the rest of us had to watch mid trough dinner (btw, the bathroom wasn't even far, it was like 3 meters away from the dinner table.) After the kid was done they went back to eating without washing their hands and made jokes about how big the turd was so yeah, it was some really weird shit (no pun intended).

I know it sounds fake af, but I swear this happened and I just can't keep on hiding it...I'm not friends with that person anymore so whatever.

I can totally believe it. I find people with kids very quickly forget what's gross to other people. I think it's because they get so used to poop and piss and vomit over the baby/toddler years that they get genuinely desensitised. it's weird, but it absolutely happens. like. to use a similar example, I used to work with animals (horses, and then dogs and cats in shelters/boarding kennels). obviously a lot of working with animals involves cleaning up after them, and as a result, I am just... immune to being grossed out by animal poop. obviously I don't want it all around the place, but I can just clean it up without a fuss/without gagging, even if it's really gross. I'm highly desenitised to the smell and how gross it is conceptually, because for several hours a day I used to do nothing but shovel shit into a wheelbarrow. I think parents have the same reaction lol. absolutely no excuse, but I bet it was a total brainfart moment. they should absolutely be making sure their kid washes their hands, though. good bathroom hygiene (and hygiene in general) is one of those things you absolutely have to start teaching young.

I do not make a habit of having guests because I am very private and do not like guests in my house. (I do not like the fact that they are here and I can't just leave whenever I like.) (also having guests alters the vibes. I'm 100% serious my house's vibes are OFF for days I hate it.) having said that, I've hosted a few dinner parties in my time. aside from the usual mess of people getting drunk, there hasn't been any really crazy shit. I think the most unhinged shit that happened to me while in a social group was actually at a pub quiz, when a friend of a friend showed up for the first time and almost immediately started chatting to me about how she has affairs all the time, and then she started feeling me up under the table. (for context, I was in my mid-20s, and she was in her late 40s.) that was insane and had also never happened to me before. I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a little bit of an ego stroke from it. (nothing else was stroked. I am not a homewrecker.)

[pacifymebby]

Happy new year Layla:) Do you have any tips for self care? I've started this year feeling real low x

Happy new year to you too lovely, I'm sorry to hear you've started the year on such a low!! I feel like this time of year is always a sucker for that because you're surrounded by everyone making goals and "starting fresh" or like "clean" and there's a lot of pressure on everyone to be making good healthy changes for self improvement or to be happy and stuff. When actually like, this is the worst time of year to be making those kinds of changes, like its cold and dark all the time and u know, sometimes u just wanna sleep and chill and be easy on yourself? idk thats how I feel anyway

but I started the year feeling pretty low too and I haven't exactly pulled myself out of it yet either (especially now im ill I really have just stayed in bed every day since the new year began)

stuff I would recommend though

try and work out if something major is causing the low feelings, if its something solid and obvious then see if there's anything small u could do to make things slightly easier (for example a thing I was very very stressed about was my credit card bill and yesterday I paid it off so that it was one less thing to worry about) (another is my gas/electric bill and in a minute when im done typing this ill go and actually take my meter readings and send them in, because I've been horribly worried about them) I don't mean any of those things lightly either btw, those aren't small problems for me, they're huge looming mountains of stress that really can leave me bedridden with anxiety lol

if the problems more abstract or u can't really figure out what's making u feel shit then u know, maybe you are just tired? I find the end of the year very overwhelming, what with he highs of Christmas and new year, the social interaction the constant positivity and stuff, its exhausting and u may well just be very very worn out. so like, let urself acknowledge that u don't feel great, you're having a rough wee time of it lately and that u need a little time to chill out and reset.

my old recs used to be like, take a nice hot bath or something but now im like, cost of living crisis who can even afford a bath anymore amirite so

cook yourself ur favourite meal or treat yourself by going out for breakfast or lunch or something, I find it easier to go out for lunch or for a coffee on my own than I would out for dinner iygwim

reread a book you love

go for a little walk, just something small to get yourself out of the house, try and walk somewhere like a park and take your headphones off so that you can hear the birds and stuff!!

like idk how to explain it but sometimes taking your headphones off and listening to the world around you, other people, traffic, bird/ animal noises is really grounding and makes u feel part of something rather than cut off and alone

that being said sometimes having a cigarette and listening to ur favourite record is also the cure for all ailments so

call a friend, not even in a reaching out kind of way, just in a now might be a good time to catch up with a pal kind of way

clean your room/ a room in ur house, make it super cosy with blankets and candles and shit, then make yourself a brew and watch ur favourite comfort movie?

wash ur face, do a face mask, or a hair mask and comb your hair.

set yourself really small tasks for the day, things you have been putting off that will maybe only take five minutes to do, when you have done each thing cross it off your little list and then when u have finished the list 1) you will feel accomplished af 2) u can reward yourself however u see fit

sometimes I put music on really loud and sing along to it whilst im doing the dishes or cleaning the house and I feel really uplifted afterwards

run urself the hot bath bestie, it doesn't cost as much as we're all worried it will

go to the cinema by yourself? this one works for me sometimes? there's something really cleansing about stepping out into broad daylight after you've been in the cinema in the morning

go wander round some charity shops

sometimes u really do just need a few hours curled up under a blanket with a hot drink or a snack.

Also

if you're feeling low in a similar way to me (ed stuff idk) something im trying really hard to do is stay away from shit like Pinterest/ THAT side of Tumblr/ twitter. I'm trying to take each meal as it comes, reminding myself that u gotta eat when ur hungry (I have given myself so many little repeats of lectures b has given me in the past about eating lol)

I'm like, planning an activity for whilst I eat, like, I'll make porridge for breakfast then watch a shitty anime or cartoons the way I would have done when I was a kid. Or I'll make dinner and watch a movie with it. Something thats enough of a pleasant distraction.

Also I'm getting a lot of nutrition through soups and stuff, because they have always been easier for me to eat. Like not pushing myself too far or putting pressure on myself to be the perfect recoveree but also making sure I look after myself.

If thats not the kind of low you're feeling then just ignore all that, but I thought id leave it in just in case because I know a lot of my mutuals do get the same way I do sometimes.

The main thing is to remember to be forgiving of yourself. This isn't a forever feeling and eventually the depression will pass. Listen to All Things Must Pass by George Harrisson and know its the most truthful song in the world. this time of year is always tough but be gentle with yourself and know I am always here if u need to vent or want to talk!!!!! sending you love and good vibes bestie <3 xsxx

[0verthinking1t]

Hi, Neurodivergent!blr (is that a thing?? 😆), It's been a while since I've posted about my mental health journey. Today I want to express about a particularly baffling ADHD mood. So a lot of us know about the Rabbit Hole; it starts with a question, which leads to a Google search, and suddenly you wake up 3 hours later with back pain and a thorough understanding of the nerve pathways that carry electric impulses across the human heart. Falling down these Rabbit Holes is usually an "inattentive" type behavior where we space out, hyperfixate, let our body go into screensaver mode, and stop being conscious of things like time and task work, but there's a similar "hyperactive" counterpart to it, which I'm deciding to call my White Rabbit mode.

White Rabbit Mode is a term I came up with based on the same Alice in Wonderland reference, but some people call it the Zoomies. You start with 1 errand that really needs to be done ASAP, but then you can't get started until you do two other chores you were going to get to anyway, and then you need to clean up after those chores, but 'I don't have time for all this, I wanted to leave for that errand and hour ago', and then since you're cleaning up, you might as well clean that other mess you've been meaning to get to while you're riding the motivation wave, and then something else comes up because 'is that the time?? Fuck, I need to leave for that errand, I can still make it', and then..... By the end of the day, you end up getting an entire to-do list of shit done, but none of them are the original errand that you've been Late, You're Late, For a Very Important Thing!! worrying about all day. This original errand then gets moved to "tomorrow", or "my next day off", or, unfortunately most often, to "eehh.... Eventually" as the fluke dopamine rush you've been following all day comes to an end and vanishes back into the aether.

I present you, my example of this White Rabbit mode: I desperately need to get to the laundromat like, yesterday. That led to emptying out an old backpack, and then I realized I need to eat something and remembered I ordered groceries, and then.... I still haven't left with the laundry 😓😓😓

[sinclarify]

forcing u guys to understand the relationship between kane and natsu through the SONGS ON THEUR PLAYLIST!!!! hehe :3 i sorted every song alphabetically & with the lyrics that fir with them the most and you will read it and you will know everything at the end of it. lalalala. here we go. a lot of these only pertain to kane because he's my favourite stupid guy but !! funeral by phoebe bridgers is there thats natsu's pov bc kane fucking dies LOL

all i think about now - pixies “i try to think about tomorrow

but i always think about the past

about the things that didn't last

if i could go to the beginning

then for sure i would be another way

make it better for today

if i could go to the beginning

i would be another way

make it better for today

remember when we were happy?

if i'm late can i thank you now?”

andromeda - weyes blood “treat me right

i'm still a good man's daughter

let me in if i break

and be quiet if i shatter

getting tired of looking

you know that i hate the game

don't wanna waste any more time

you know i didn't hold it up

love is calling

it's time to give to you

something you can hold onto

i dare you try”

back to the old house - the smiths “when you cycled by, here began all my dreams

the saddest thing i've ever seen

and you never knew

how much i really liked you

because i never even told you

oh, and i meant to

are you still there?”

bag of bones - mitski “fluorescent store lights, you shine through the night

illuminate my pores and you tear me apart

mercy on me, would you please spare me tonight?

i'm tired of this searching, would you let me let go?

i know my room is a mess, over and over again

i tell myself i'll clean tomorrow

just move the stuff up off the bed and do what you came here to do

but first open up a window for me

and let the cool air in, feel the night slip in

as it softly glides along your back

and i hope you leave right before the sun comes up

so i can watch it alone”

best person you know - lowertown “do you believe in god, or anything at all?

what morals do you stand by?

have your standards started to fall?

do you believe in god?

what makes you build yourself so high?

can't see you anymore

it's almost like the features of your face are indescribable

eat the shit that you've made

go sit in that grave, the one that you've dug for yourself

i don't care, your body isn't mine

you no longer mine”

between the bars - elliot smith “drink up baby, look at the stars

i'll kiss you again, between the bars

where i'm seeing you there with your hands in the air

waiting to finally be caught

drink up one more time, and i'll make you mine

keep you apart, deep in my heart

separate from the rest, where i like you the best

and keep the things you forgot

people you've been before

that you don't want around anymore

that push and shove and won't bend to your will

i'll keep them still”

black star - radiohead “troubled words of a troubled mind

i try to understand what is eating you

i try to stay awake, but it's 58 hours

since that i last slept with you

what are we coming to?

i just don't know anymore”

call it fate, call it karma - the strokes “can i waste all your time here on the sidewalk?

can i stand in your light, just for a while?

i've waited around to wait in a room

having a hard time watching you (watching you)

i need someone

i need someone”

call me - rainlord (feat. .keshi) “say you'll call me baby

tell me you'll be okay

if i leave you alone today

i'm better than this

you're better than this

we're better than this

oh god, we're better than this

why do it like this?

why do we do it like this?”

ceilings - lizzy mcalpine “bedsheets, no clothes

touch me like nobody else does

lovely to just lay here with you

you're kinda cute, and i would say all of this

but i don't wanna ruin the moment

lovely to sit between comfort and chaos

but it's over

then you're driving me home

and it kinda comes out

as i get up to go

you kiss me in your car

and it feels like the start of a movie i've seen before”

class of 2013 - mitski “mom, would you wash my back?

this once, and then we can forget

and i'll leave what i'm chasing

for the other girls to pursue

mom, am i still young?

can i dream for a few months more?”

the comfort of a laugh track - roar “if you could only see me now

i know i'd disappoint somehow

i'm stuck inside a fantasy

where i could be all you would need

will i live in shame of

the things in the past that i should have done for you?

and is it possible to

forgive all the ignorant ones if they're just too young?

fake love, yeah, you know you'll be truly missed

fake love must be some kind of abstinence

let's not make much more out of all of this

let's not, but we still can pretend we did”

cupid - jack stauber “how can cupid?

how could you be so cruel?

how can cupid?

how could you be so?

oh, circumcise my love for you (wah, wah, wah, wah)

it's far too vapid and aimless (wah, wah, wah, wah)

i wanna be painless (wah, wah, wah, wah)

love soldier, i want closure (wah, wah)

and a dollar for the bus back home”

dagger - slowdive “the world is full of noise yeah

i hear it all the time

and me i am your dagger

you know i am your wound

i thought i heard you whisper

it happens all the time

i thought i heard you whisper

it happens all the time

she whispers while i'm sleeping

"i love you when you smile"

i didn't really lose you

i just lost it for a while”

deep sea - snail mail “die, my love

breathe in twos and fours

to know what's worth breathing for

some days it's easier than falling asleep

and we can be anyone

it took so long to know someone like you

and age in the dying sun

wake only to bathe in greens and blues”

duvet - boa  “and you don't seem the lying kind

a shame that i can read your mind

and all the things that i read there

candle lit smile that we both share

and you know i don't mean to hurt you

but you know that it means so much

and you don't even feel a thing

i am falling

i am fading

i am drowning

help me to breathe”

fear - current joys “it's so hard to stop the rain

it's so hard to stop

starts out gold, but never stays

the neon takes my breath away

and now i feel it in my veins

but i don't want to be afraid

i don't want to live this way

i don't want you to leave”

first love/late spring - mitski “and i was so young when i behaved 25

yet now, i find i've grown into a tall child

and i don't wanna go home

let me walk to the top of the big night sky

please, hurry, leave me, i can't breathe

please don't say you love me”

funeral - phoebe bridgers “and last night i blacked out in my car

and i woke up in my childhood bed

wishing i was someone else, feeling sorry for myself

when i remembered someone's kid is dead

jesus christ, i'm so blue all the time

and that's just how i feel

always have and i always will

i always have and always will

and it's 4 am, again

and i'm doing nothing again”

girl - salvia palth “when you're down, when you're down

yeah, you scare me, the nicest person

i will wait, i will wait

dali said that you want me also

will you say, will you say?

i thought no one would think about me

but it's not surprising that

you thought about me

i thought you'd feel like an ocean, all reactive

and lucid in emotion, why'd you think about me?”

goodbye, my danish sweetheart - mitski “there's some kind of burning inside me

it's kept me from falling apart

and i'm sure that you've seen what it's done to my heart

but it's kept me from falling apart

now here i lay as i wonder about you

would you just tell me what i'm meant to do?

'cause i've waited and watered my heart 'til it grew

you can see how it's blossomed for you

and i don't blame you

if you want to bury me in your memory

i'm not the girl i ought to be, but

maybe when you tell your friends

you can tell them what you saw in me

and not the way i am”

how to disappear completely - radiohead “in a little while

i'll be gone

the moment's already passed

yeah, it's gone

and i'm not here

this isn't happening”

hurts me too - faye webster “i hate that feeling at night

when i thought my eyes were closed

but they were open the whole time

it was just too dark to know

and what am i 'posed to do when

my dad cries in front of me?

do i just close my eyes and

pretend like i didn't see?”

i know it’s over - the smiths “i know it's over and it never really began

but in my heart it was so real

and you even spoke to me and said

"if you're so funny

then why are you on your own tonight?

and if you're so clever

then why are you on your own tonight?

if you're so very entertaining

then why are you on your own tonight?

if you're so very good looking

why do you sleep alone tonight?"”

& 

“love is natural and real

but not for you, my love

not tonight, my love

love is natural and real

but not for such as you and i

my love”

&

“oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head

oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head

oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head

oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head”

i’m yours tonight - bloodwitch “at last i see you

on high

come down upon me from the sky

show no mercy, my life

i'm yours tonight

i'm waiting, for you to show me, a higher love

don't spare me from the truth

i'm ready”

jigsaw falling into place - radiohead “before you run away from me

before you're lost between the notes

the beat goes round and round

the beat goes round and round

i never really got there

i just pretended that i had

words are blunt instruments

words are sawed off shotguns

come on and let it out”

just - radiohead “one day he'll get to you

and teach you how to be a holy cow

you do it to yourself, you do

and that's what really hurts

is that you do it to yourself, just you

you and no one else

you do it to yourself

you do it to yourself”

kimochi warui - car seat headrest “and i will not go to heaven

and i will not go to hell

i have no faith in death

to be anything at all

(i feel sick)

(i don't feel well)

(what a disgusting feeling)

(i don't like this feeling)

(how disgusting)

(this feeling sucks)

some of these things are symptoms

and some of these are being human

and now, i'm torn between (and now, i'm torn between)

trying to be a better man (trying to be a better man)

and trying to accept the man i am”

la lune - billie marten “breaking my back in the heart of this land

feet above water and softened in sand

i could have wanted any part of this

but i find that heat is too harsh on the skin

drowning in light, need the cold to sink in to my soul

my soul

ignore signs of change no more

i come back again, i am flawed”

last flowers - radiohead “'cause i can't face the evening straight

and you can’t offer me escape

houses move and houses speak

if you take me there you'll get relief, relief

relief, relief

relief, relief

it's too much

too bright, too powerful

too much

too bright, too powerful”

last words of a shooting star - mitski “i always wanted to die clean and pretty

but i'd be too busy on working days

so i am relieved that the turbulence wasn't forecasted

i couldn't have changed anyways

i am relieved that i'd left my room tidy

goodbye”

lavender blood - fox academy “lavender is always running through my blood

i've had enough, i'm cold and it is dusk

turn into dust, it's dripping from my gums

it's not enough”

love like you - rebecca sugar “i always thought i might be bad

now i'm sure that it's true

'cause i think you're so good

and i'm nothing like you

look at you go

i just adore you

i wish that i knew

what makes you think i'm so special”

no distance left to run - blur “when you see me

please, turn your back and walk away

i don't wanna see you

'cause i know the dreams that you keep

that's where we meet

when you're coming down

think of me here

i got no distance left to run”

no surprises - radiohead “this is my final fit

my final bellyache with

no alarms and no surprises

no alarms and no surprises

no alarms and no surprises, please

such a pretty house

and such a pretty garden

no alarms and no surprises

no alarms and no surprises

no alarms and no surprises, please”

numb - men i trust “hon'

please forgive me if i ever did you wrong

i'll be your candle; burn me upside down

from now on, i won't sleep on my arms

numb

is how i feel deep inside my soul

need to feel that i am on the line

i'm sorry that i dragged you down my way”

pink in the night - mitski “i glow pink in the night in my room

i've been blossoming alone over you

and i hear my heart breaking tonight

i hear my heart breaking tonight

do you hear it too?

it's like a summer shower

with every drop of rain singing

"i love you, i love you, i love you

i love you, i love you, i love you

i love you, i love you, i love you!"

race - alex g  “cause you think the brains in your head are worth

breathing this smoke and itchy throats and being happy

and i could be your man all day

and you could look inside my brain and see this one thing

but then it disappears like smoke and you're alone

i forget

how to play

the game

everyone

wants to come

along

i don't know

where you are”

real men - mitski “real men don't need other people

and real men suck it in

real men don't flinch or bleed in public

oh, i think i'm a real man

little boys cry and look around for comfort

and always get what they want

little boys see toys and say, "i can take that!"

oh, you are my little boy”

rocky horror - billy cobb “staying up late.

i should go to sleep.

it's tuesday but i can't stop thinking of your skin.

i've been known to be a hopeless no good nobody and they're right.

i know your eyes can see right through me,

but believe me, it's my pleasure.

i'm staying watching rocky horror.

you know i love that movie.

i love the way you grab my heart.

like it's a gun.

fire away.”

saint bernard - lincoln “saint bernard sits at the top of the driveway

you always said how you loved dogs

i don't know if i count

but i'm trying my best

when i'm howling and barking these songs”

september come take this heart away - carrisa’s wierd “all of these windows

bring in the cold air

i hope you have a coat

to keep you warm

warmer than those last times we spoke

warmer than the last words we said

i'm sure the wind blows gently on you now

i hope that nothing will ever remind you of me

glue that faded photo on a worn out journal page

it reads september come, please take this heart away”

show you a body - haley heynderickx “i am letting you go

i am letting you go awry

it was more than a race

more than the wind

chasing the flood

you opened the gate

and fate is a sundress

ripped at the thigh

thigh high and safety net

swarmed by the hornets' nest

to cover my eyes

it was more a mirage

in sickness and health

i showed you a body

like a cluttered garage

i am humbled by breaking down”

snow - ricky montgomery “summer's over, love had left her

screaming at the screen

oh, and it's understood that the both of us are no good

i'll always be that short little gloat

always clearing his throat like he ever had something to say

and i'll say

when i go, bury me six feet in snow

here we are wasting our chances for the last time

and when we go, i'll try not to be so slow

skeletons, skeletons, what do we have here

hiding from the mirror?

say it once, say it twice, try to be nice

well, let's not lose ourselves”

some things cosmic - angel olsen  “the things that you said

i felt my soul

rise up from my body

when i look into your blue eyes

if cosmic force is real at all

it's come between you and i

i want to be naked

i don't mean my body

i don't need my body

i'm floating away”

so you wanna be a superhero - carissa’s wierd “long look in the mirror

just looks back so blankly

you were right: i can't do this

i'm going crazy, it's fine by me

now you can see

how much i've become empty

i might be leaving soon

i might be leaving soon

i might be leaving soon

my dreams are full of what's not real

i'll fly away and save the world

i'll make you proud someday

i just won't be around to see your face

my life is full of what's not here

i'll go away and save myself

i'll make you proud someday

i just won't be around to see your face”

true love waits - radiohead “i'm not living

i'm just killing time

your tiny hands

your crazy kitten smile

just don't leave

don't leave

and true love waits

in haunted attics

and true love lives

on lollipops and crisps

just don't leave

don't leave”

unlucky - lunar vacation “see you in the street

start to wonder deeply

if i changed how i was

how would everyone view me?

in my room

i remember you said

if you cross that line, you may lose more than you'd bet

so unlucky

you're in love and i'm unlucky”

vanilla baby - billie marten “today, i feel close to ill

it seems to be alright

steady hands and steady feet

i push you far behind

miles to go, i'm drifting slow

this wholesome life of mine

mother told us not to go

no fingers in the fire

alright

i am only as good as you want me to be

i don't pick up the phone if i don't want to speak

i am only as good as you want me to be

i don't know what i'm doing”

we’ll never have sex - leith ross “depollute me, pretty baby

suck the rot right out of my bloodstream

oh, dilute me, gentle angel

water down what i call being grateful

oh, you kissed me just to kiss me

not to take me home

it was simple, it was sweetness

it was good to know”

worldstar money (interlude) - joji “i looked at you and said, oh-oh-oh

don't hate me, am i crazy?

so tenderly you watch me burn, you watch me burn, oh

so tell me, am i crazy?

'cause i do, 'cause i do

'cause i do, 'cause i do

'cause i do, 'cause i do

ooh

la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la (goddamn)

ooh (oh)

and i don't wanna die

no, i don't wanna die

i don't wanna die”

your best american girl - mitski “if i could, i'd be your little spoon

and kiss your fingers forevermore

but, big spoon, you have so much to do

and i have nothing ahead of me

you're the sun, you've never seen the night

but you hear its song from the morning birds

well, i'm not the moon, i'm not even a star

but awake at night i'll be singing to the birds

don't wait for me, i can't come”

&

“you're the one

you're all i ever wanted

i think i'll regret this”

you should be hated here - carissa’s wierd “and everything that no one knows

you should be hated here by now

this was the prettiest lie that i told tonight

it's been the prettiest lie that i told all year

the unmade bed inside the room (it could be now)

where i don't feel comfortable at all (and i don't feel proud)

where the blanket stared at me for hours (i'm so sorry now)

and i stared right back so self-righteously (i'm sorry now)

and it all comes down to composure that's been lost

when it all comes down to composure that's been lost”

you weren’t meant to see that - the rare occasions “i watched the windows shatter

as if it ever mattered

and for once in my life i see things for what they are

and not through the lens of profit and achievement

it's nothing when you need it

one of those fortune cookie proclamations

that i could never swallow

you weren't meant to see that

all the shit i should hold back

'cause it's all in my head and i can see it through your swampy eyes

that i won't always be the only one for you”

[ricotyrell]

don't rlly have anything extremely important under here i'm just rambling really

last weekend? couple of months even? probably changed me more than i expected but also at the same time... not really. i think i'm scared of what's going to come up and what responsibilities i have to handle. i think i don't have that many in the first place so i shouldn't really be complaining. my confidence level has always been low is all

Last saturday i joined my first counter-protest. It wasn't for long since i arrived late, but it was nice meeting people who are all in for the love and support of lgbtq+ kids. It was near a playground and we gave some donuts out to kids. I thought a lot about how different their lives are due to covid. how there were people always willing to fight for them. how i should have joined these earlier There was also a Palestine protest going on here which i didn't attend, but they were loud enough to hear from streets away, and i hope their rally comes through to the cdn govt. it's extremely disappointing and beyond blood boiling (but not surprising) to see trudeau (who is already letting genocide happen in his own country) express his fake love while continuing to allow senseless massacres to continue. The biggest thing I can do is speak out, I really wish we could do more.

On sunday, i attended my first market, as in I was selling stuff personally. I managed to sell a coaster and a pouch that i crocheted, and I was really happy since I didn't expect to sell anything at all. But a part of me felt ashamed that i couldn't do more because my mom's always expecting more out of me when she hasn't even tried what I've been doing. It was overall a good experience and I'm looking forward to trying again this weekend. My friend is truly a great motivator and she also has a really good social network. I think I'm really beginning to see the magic in the connection of humans, but I am also very afraid of it considering how many bad fallouts i've been through. She gave me a lot of courage and passion to finish my artwork, get them printed, open my own shop, print out my own business cards... I even got my own acrylic charms and stickers printed. This was something I dreamt of doing when I was a teenager, so it does mean more to me than I let off. When I list it like this, I actually do see that I've done a lot.

But i'm scared that I'll lose motivation to take care of my own products and keep creating. But i'm also scared of being so slow I do nothing to change anything about my own life, like I've been living like this since 2017 when i dropped out because I was anxious about my life at the time and there was a huge strike. The strike was just a great excuse to me to get out of education. I don't think i was ever meant for higher education.

Life just keeps going on too, my dog has cushings which has an expensive treatment plan, consistent ear infections and ear cleanings have probably made her deaf, she's just growing old and... I feel like I'm just not prepared. It's similar with my dad, he's been ill and out of work for 3 months now while the canadian healthcare is in active collapse and he has to wait months for tests while he continues to faint at home with more rest. He's in his 60's, and I feel like I'm also turning into his caretaker which I don't want to be. I love my dad, but I just don't feel like i have the skills to take care of someone, I'll try but I don't think i can commit to it. But he's also my dad so I feel like i have no choice. Especially when my mom takes every opportunity to freak out and make us all feel as miserable as she does, if she isn't there to take care of him when shit sucks for him, then who is??? My brother is working basically full time too

I don't know, I'm just feeling really anxious about everything, even about the good stuff. I hope I can get past it, but what other choice do I have. I don't even think I succinctly worded everything as I actually felt

here's to my shop opening on nov 1st without too much of an issue. trying to keep it as simple as possible

[keefwho]

September 04 - 2023 Monday

7:17am

Yesterday taught me that something drastic needs to change in my life. I knew that already, thats why I'm trying to "improve" whatever that even means. But I mean I need to take more aggressive action because I've basically caught myself thinking a lot more than doing. I need to try more action I can take that will encourage positive changes in my life/mentality. I don't know what kinds of things yet so it's about trying lots of things until I find what works. I will try to use my schedule so I can actually stay on top of anything I decide.

8:40am

I'm having the thought that I can't achieve my goals. I'm having the thought that I'm going to tire myself out and inevitably fail. I'm having the thought that I'm an obsessive person and cannot stop. I'm having the thought that I won't be able to get all my work done today and be proud of myself. I'm having the thought that I can't respect myself. I'm having the thought that people are always judging my flaws. I'm having the thought that trying is pointless.

2:29pm

My heart pushes back against me so much. As soon as I start feeling like maybe I can feel good about my life, it feels CRINGEY. Deep down I'm rejecting it very strongly to the point where it feels like it's just a temporary feeling I'm experiencing on the surface and eventually it'll go away so I can feel like shit again. Its all rooted so very deep. It really feels like at the very center of myself is a cynical, self destructive being, thats what my core is made out of. I don't know how to change that if it's true. Or maybe I'm exaggerating and this is a temporary assessment.

The book I'm reading that is based on ACT is good but has been employing some concepts and techniques that don't really work for me. A lot of it is more abstract mental exercises than I'd like, it probably works for some people but it's not my thing. I'm still following the book anyways but trying not to do it as religiously as before. Right now I'm supposed to schedule 3 events for the next week that will directly challenge some of the thoughts/feelings that hold me back. To me this means figuring out things to do that I wish I could. Basically I'm going to roleplay a 'better' version of myself that can do these things I want to try. Or something I already do but in a different mindset.

10:56pm

This morning I made eggs with corned beef hash and toast. I watched some Chris Chan before stream.

The warmup went well and I mostly finished up the commission I was working on. ('Mostly' because the guy had a bunch of changes to make later, really stupid ones too.) With my spare time I started a new YCH and worked on a goofy drawing drawing intended to be for business growth. That basically means it's an idea utilizing a popular character from media as opposed to mine or someone else's OC. I could have ended early and I wanted to but my main goal is to stick to my work schedule so thats what I did. I also worked on a YCH because instead of having dedicated YCH time 2 days a week like I did, I'll just use spare commission time to do it since I have enough of it.

After stream I replaced my iffy extension cable I use for my heater, I cleaned up the toilet with one of those scrubbing stones, disposed of a mouse I caught, and vacuumed. I also used Pine Sol for the first time to clean the windowsill. I figure bleach based cleaner is not good for it, I know it's not but that's all I had before. I'm doing it properly now. Lunch was tuna spaghetti while watching more Chris Chan, which is always a bad idea. He's gross.

I was a little bit late with getting afternoon work done but I did do it all. The request went well and I finished my friend's birthday gift finally. Also worked on a real old sketch finally of the mane six travelling through a snowscape.

I played some HOI4 today and made more progress in my interesting campaign. This evening I streamed that and some Mother 3 with my bestie and had some really good conversation before bedtime. We also peaked at BOTW and how simplistic it is compared to TOTK. Crazy how we can always talk about Zelda and it's fun. Tbh we can talk about anything and it's fun but especially Zelda.

Tomorrow I'm not looking forward to the commission because it's by someone who I historically have a hard time drawing but it'll get done and be fine I'm sure. I'm also trying to change my mindset from "what will I lose if I don't do X" to "what will I gain if I do X". I think it's a more positive way to view things.

[returntosaturn271995]

August 15th: The last week of 27

They say the return to Saturn takes place from 27-29, so that makes 28 next week the beginning of the middle of this little cosmic journey we are on together.

And you know what? I'm proud of 27-year-old me. That bitch had to handle a lot of 26-year-old me's consequences. This year I got emotionally healthy and dumped some people-pleasing tendencies and some people period. I'm kinder in my own head. I picked up running and got really good at cooking and got this new job making more money.

28 is going to be hot as fuck. But I'm taking this last week of 27 as a victory lap.

Today began at the crack of 6:37 am when I made myself roll out of bed and half blindly grope my way to the bathroom (Hannah was in there and I am not a morning person so no pleasantries were exchanged.) When she went to work, I took a full body and hair shower, sat through my first meeting of the morning, and then made coffee and a lox and cream cheese bagel while listening to Trump's indictment story on Pod Save America.

After I finished my "Talk Loopy" deck for Froot Loops, I did another round of running intervals at the beach and hit a respectable 8 min average (7.22 was my best but I did hit a pace of 6'44 once or twice). Another gross thing no one tells you about running? Your hands swell up like little sausage hands. Isn't getting in shape supposed to make me sexier?

Cleaned the kitchen, hopped on another meeting, then meditated on the new patio set while Blue watched me directly from Makenna's window. Lately about five minutes into meditating I start to feel a pang of sadness in my body, like a sinking in my ribcage. Clearing my head was a challenge, striving thoughts kept entering my mind even as I tried to focus on the sound of waves lapping and the warm air on my skin or the bright green plant settled nostalgically behind my bronze-tinted Ray Bans. (Today's outfit is white linen trousers, a Calvin Klien bra, a white tank top, white sandals, and a beaded choker. The whole outfit is pretty much see-thru in direct sunlight but I brought this shit so I'm going to wear it.)

Now it's 2:30 and I feel like I've lived several lives. I'm supposed to go on a date to JRDN at 6:45, do some yoga so my old-lady hips don't fuck up my running, continue reading Little Wierds (which I'm savoring) and start reading "Green Lights" by Mathew McConaughey.

Going to nap first though. And if I DON'T get to anything else today- oh fucking well- I'm going at a 5 K pace with swollen hands and I'm proud of myself.

I've reached a new floor of what I thought I was capable of, which had been the ceiling of my previous floor, which was the first-story house I tentatively entered when I came out of the basement which was my depression. I don't want to forget or ignore the ache I still sometimes get in my chest or gloss over the times this year when I walked the beach crying into the phone when what I was actually doing was crying into the universe. That girl is part of me, perhaps the strongest part because she tried again and held on even though she had the least reason to.

She dreamt of a first floor. She set the foundation. It's okay if I visit her every once and a while without getting confused about where I want to be now. To deny that kind of pain is to invite it to manifest in ugly ways. I'm less afraid to look at the shadowy corners of my psyche and failings to be perfect (or even upper-middle-perfect) and feel more compassion and humor and less shame and disgust.

I accept that I've been bad. And by doing that I realize I actually wasn't that bad. A wounded animal that lashes out but isn't inherently evil, it just needs a little love and training. I love my parents, and my grandparents are at best misguided, deeply numb people so I know they never were shown how to handle things like a sensitive kid.

But I was never given any tools growing up for how to handle the pain and self-esteem issues other than "stop that" and good-natured teasing. They never saw gaps in my emotional development as a reaction to the world around me but as character flaws. They loved me, but they also felt that there was something wrong with me that was inherent instead of inherited. They were never awful, they were wonderful in a million ways, but then again so was I.

If it's not their fault, then it's not mine either. It's just the way it was. So in my 20s, I had to re-parent myself. Accept an inner child I was desperate to hide. Learn to love myself where I was, instead of indulging myself because I didn't have faith that I could move past whatever fatal flaw kept me from being unlovable.

Maybe those aren't even tools your parents can give you. Not really. Self-esteem comes through esteemable acts. My mom could have self-reflected more on her role in my mental health and my dad could have been more open-minded about success: but ultimately only I can give myself dignity and self-respect. Giving them to myself is what's made me a good person.

Yeah, that's right. I'm a good fucking person. I try and evolve and have a damn good head of hair and nice titties if we're keeping score.

Anyways, going to go be 27 for a fortnight. Kisses. Don't wait up.

[dzpenumbra]

7/23/23

Another low-key didn't-really-do-much day. I did a little outlining on my grip tape, but not a ton. My paint brushes are really old. Like... super old. And... I never really took very good care of them, to be honest. I have a favorite brush that has served me really well for detail work, but it's all frayed from over a decade of acrylic buildup in the base. I tried to clean it up a bit, but it didn't work that well.

So... I was left trying to decide whether to commit to doing detail line work in black with a brush that... rarely did what I wanted it to do. It definitely added a new level of challenge. I'm hoping I can get my sleep schedule adjusted a bit more so I can take a trip out to Michael's and get a few new brushes. I just... don't want to take a dedicated trip exclusively for that. I'd like to go to that place nearby that has trails and the rock beach as well, make a whole day out of it. It's just hard to get that all to work when I start my days so late.

I slept in again. I'm really glad to finally be getting such good sleep, it's so insanely overdue. I don't know if it's because I'm cutting back on caffeine... but I've been sleeping a ton the past few days. It kinda sucks because I'm very low energy the rest of the day... and I don't really have much daylight to work with... but it's so important after the 2 week stretch there where I was getting ridiculously little sleep. That shit took a big toll on me that I'm still recovering from.

So yeah, that's... honestly pretty much it. I made more granola, it actually was a nice golden brown color this time, I'll try it in the morning. I have a grocery delivery scheduled for tomorrow. I ordered some stuff off Amazon that I've been putting off for a while. And... that's about it.

I'm definitely... craving social interaction. More substance in life. I love the quiet and the lack of distractions that my current life provides me, but man... I'd really love to just go hiking with someone and talk. I miss that a lot. Just take a day and go climb a mountain, and sit at the top and just shoot the shit.

I'm realizing very clearly how much utility my car offered me. And... it's hard to not be deeply upset with the people who took it away from me. I've been entertaining the idea of getting a motorcycle or something, if for nothing more than it being cheaper and more gas efficient... But I'm worried about winter storage... well... just winter in general, I guess. I don't know, I haven't really thought about this much. I was just sorta going off the thought... having a car would change my life in a pretty radical way. Being able to drive to trails and hiking spots.

I don't know. I have access to this community car thing. I mean, I'm paying for it... I have a yearly subscription to the service. But the last time I got that car and went on that like... 3 hour hike... it cost me $50. And $50 is a lot of money in my brain. Maybe I'm just detached from the current prices of things, because I spend money so rarely and pretty much only on essentials like groceries. I mean, getting dinner delivered for one person was like... $50. I guess it's not that much. Maybe I'm just still stuck in pre-inflation price mentality. Kinda like part of me still thinks a pack of Marb 27's should cost around $5.50/pack? And honestly, I couldn't even guess at their current price... probably over $10. It's just... it's a number just big enough for me to hesitate before going on a trip - like driving to that occult shop the next neighborhood over, or driving to the trails. Big enough to thwart impulse plans, and impulse plans have been my most successful plans so far, because I can get the ball rolling with them before my anxiety gets a chance to creatively dismantle them.

Anyway, I'm kinda hoping to get to bed before the sun comes up. It's already 4:15 so... I don't know how well that's gonna go... but I'd really like to have more daylight to work with so I can actually have a chance at real-world socializing. So... I'm gonna go do that.

[xocontinentaldrift]

On routines

I've been thinking about routines as part of my late winter contemplations (which is now I've rebranded the New Year period.) When self-care was a pop culture thing, I know morning and evening routine were part of the discourse. And like many other people, I love reading articles and features about people’s schedules. How people spend time is an oddly intimate thing.

Routines can go on auto-pilot and become habits, which is both good and bad. I find evaluating our routines helpful, especially as my understanding of how they fit into my life evolves. I love the Lazy Genius way of describing them, as an on-ramp into the day. They are meant as transitions for me: into different roles, tasks, mindsets. Routines aren’t the “content” of my day, but they give me a lift.

Take my morning routine, which is to ease me into the productive phase of my day. The energy I want for a day of working, thinking and writing is calm, grounded but alert. After I wait with my kiddo at the bus stop, I go for a walk in the fresh air, which energizes me. I come home, eat breakfast, get ready, maybe read a little, and then make a cup of coffee, which is my personal signal for “time to buckle down.” Then I work until my son comes home, though sometimes I break it up with the gym, errands, housework or what have you. My key ingredients for these routines are fresh air, some movement and coffee.

I recently realized, though, that I need a different morning routine for when my son is home. My needs for these days are different, because being a mommy is a lot more tiring and mentally fractious. I’m also hampered because my son isn’t old enough for me to leave alone, so I can’t go for a walk. During these mornings, I need to feel like myself, so I read as my son and I hang out. Reading in bed in the morning is one thing I absolutely miss about my pre-mom days, so taking time to read in the morning as my kid plays or watches YouTube is a nice way of evoking that pleasure. My other ingredients for these “mommy mornings” are coffee and maybe some stretching, yoga or exercise. And also doing little chores: tidying, not seriously cleaning.

Lately I’ve been thinking that I need an afternoon routine, especially during the days I work. I need a solid and gentle transition between my role as a worker to my role as a mother. I need to feel revitalized and able to be present with my little one. But right now it’s always a bit of a scramble, and sometimes I head into those nebulous hours between afternoon and dinner feeling like I’m scraggling already. I need to come up with something, but first I have to evaluate my own needs.

I think the latter part of the day feels like the fabled "second shift" that is the parenting after a workday, which sucks, no matter how I try to reframe it as "together time." It's just a lot of work, labor and house shit. I don't get "me time" till late otherwise, so maybe some pockets of "me time" are necessary before my son comes home. But also, I need to make that nether-time easier, so I also need to do things like straggling dishwashing, making a snack platter so I don't get badgered for snacks all the time, etc. My son has reading time after school, so I can read then, too, I suppose. I also want a mug of tea, perhaps, and some kind of physical activity -- maybe stretching -- and a shower. And I'd love to squeeze in some writing/creative time, too. That's a lot for a fairly slender transition.

Bedtime routines have to be easy, because I'm so exhausted. I like to change into pajamas, take out my contacts and do my skincare routine right after I put the kiddo to bed. (Or maybe as he gets ready for bed, too.) We do meditation together, which is nice. I also like to stretch, because hip-openers especially help me sleep better. I like to read, but I don't want to read anything too stimulating, and to relax I like to play Animal Crossing. Then I sit on the sofa with my partner, though honestly, he's pretty zonked out, too, and would rather play video games than chat. I really don't know how couples have time for each other with so little energy by the end of the day. I really just want to read and play Animal Crossing!