#enjoy what you enjoy but please tag it

[jjaydazo]

please pleeeaseee tag your damn ships.

I'm saying this so I could also see your art/edit/medium for me to enjoy and reblog it

BUT ALSO to filter out the ships that I don't want to see.

[hauntingsofhouses]

Very interesting to me that a certain subset of the BES fandom's favourite iterations of Mizu and Akemi are seemingly rooted in the facades they have projected towards the world, and are not accurate representations of their true selves.

And I see this is especially the case with Mizu, where fanon likes to paint her as this dominant, hyper-masculine, smirking Cool GuyTM who's going to give you her strap. And this idea of Mizu is often based on the image of her wearing her glasses, and optionally, with her cloak and big, wide-brimmed kasa.

And what's interesting about this, to me, is that fanon is seemingly falling for her deliberate disguise. Because the glasses (with the optional combination of cloak and hat) represent Mizu's suppression of her true self. She is playing a role.

Take this scene of Mizu in the brothel in Episode 4 for example. Here, not only is Mizu wearing her glasses to symbolise the mask she is wearing, but she is purposely acting like some suave and cocky gentleman, intimidating, calm, in control. Her voice is even deeper than usual, like what we hear in her first scene while facing off with Hachiman the Flesh-Trader in Episode 1.

This act that Mizu puts on is an embodiment of masculine showboating, which is highly effective against weak and insecure men like Hachi, but also against women like those who tried to seduce her at the Shindo House.

And that brings me to how Mizu's mask is actually a direct parallel to Akemi's mask in this very same scene.

Here, Akemi is also putting up an act, playing up her naivety and demure girlishness, using her high-pitched lilted voice, complimenting Mizu and trying to make small talk, all so she can seduce and lure Mizu in to drink the drugged cup of sake.

So what I find so interesting and funny about this scene, characters within it, and the subsequent fandom interpretations of both, is that everyone seems to literally be falling for the mask that Mizu and Akemi are putting up to conceal their identities, guard themselves from the world, and get what they want.

It's also a little frustrating because the fanon seems to twist what actually makes Mizu and Akemi's dynamic so interesting by flattening it completely. Because both here and throughout the story, Mizu and Akemi's entire relationship and treatment of each other is solely built off of masks, assumptions, and misconceptions.

Akemi believes Mizu is a selfish, cocky male samurai who destroyed her ex-fiance's career and life, and who abandoned her to let her get dragged away by her father's guards and forcibly married off to a man she didn't know. on the other hand, Mizu believes Akemi is bratty, naive princess who constantly needs saving and who can't make her own decisions.

These misconceptions are even evident in the framing of their first impressions of each other, both of which unfold in these slow-motion POV shots.

Mizu's first impression of Akemi is that of a beautiful, untouchable princess in a cage. Swirling string music in the background.

Akemi's first impression of Mizu is of a mysterious, stoic "demon" samurai who stole her fiance's scarf. Tense music and the sound of ocean waves in the background.

And then, going back to that scene of them together in Episode 4, both Mizu and Akemi continue to fool each other and hold these assumptions of each other, and they both feed into it, as both are purposely acting within the suppressive roles society binds them to in order to achieve their goals within the means they are allowed (Akemi playing the part of a subservient woman; Mizu playing the part of a dominant man).

But then, for once in both their lives, neither of their usual tactics work.

Akemi is trying to use flattery and seduction on Mizu, but Mizu sees right through it, knowing that Akemi is just trying to manipulate and harm her. Rather than give in to Akemi's tactics, Mizu plays with Akemi's emotions by alluding to Taigen's death, before pinning her down, and then when she starts crying, Mizu just rolls her eyes and tells her to shut up.

On the opposite end, when Mizu tries to use brute force and intimidation, Akemi also sees right through it, not falling for it, and instead says this:

"Under your mask, you're not the killer you pretend to be."

Nonetheless, despite the fact that they see a little bit through each other's masks, they both still hold their presumptions of each other until the very end of the season, with Akemi seeing Mizu as an obnoxious samurai swooping in to save the day, and Mizu seeing Akemi as a damsel in distress.

And what I find a bit irksome is that the fandom also resorts to flattening them to these tropes as well.

Because Mizu is not some cool, smooth-talking samurai with a big dick sword as Akemi (and the fandom) might believe. All of that is the facade she puts up and nothing more. In reality, Mizu is an angry, confused and lonely child, and a masterful artist, who is struggling against her own self-hatred. Master Eiji, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.

And Akemi, on the other hand, is not some girly, sweet, vain and spoiled princess as Mizu might believe. Instead she has never cared for frivolous things like fashion, love or looks, instead favouring poetry and strategy games instead, and has always only cared about her own independence. Seki, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.

But neither is she some authoritative dominatrix, though this is part of her new persona that she is trying to project to get what she wants. Because while Akemi is willful, outspoken, intelligent and authoritative, she can still be naive! She is still often unsure and needs to have her hand held through things, as she is still learning and growing into her full potential. Her new parental/guardian figure, Madame Kaji, knows this as well.

So with all that being said, now that we know that Mizu and Akemi are essentially wearing masks and putting up fronts throughout the show, what would a representation of Mizu's and Akemi's true selves actually look like? Easy. It's in their hair.

This shot on the left is the only time we see Mizu with her hair completely down. In this scene, she's being berated by Mama, and her guard is completely down, she has no weapon, and is no longer wearing any mask, as this is after she showed Mikio "all of herself" and tried to take off the mask of a subservient housewife. Thus, here, she is sad, vulnerable, and feeling small (emphasised further by the framing of the scene). This is a perfect encapsulation of what Mizu is on the inside, underneath all the layers of revenge-obsession and the walls she's put around herself.

In contrast, the only time we Akemi with her hair fully down, she is completely alone in the bath, and this scene takes place after being scorned by her father and left weeping at his feet. But despite all that, Akemi is headstrong, determined, taking the reigns of her life as she makes the choice to run away, but even that choice is reflective of her youthful naivety. She even gets scolded by Seki shortly after this in the next scene, because though she wants to be independent, she still hasn't completely learned to be. Not yet. Regardless, her decisiveness and moment of self-empowerment is emphasised by the framing of the scene, where her face takes up the majority of the shot, and she stares seriously into the middle distance.

To conclude, I wish popular fanon would stop mischaracterising these two, and flattening them into tropes and stereotypes (ie. masculine badass swordsman Mizu and feminine alluring queen but also girly swooning damsel Akemi), all of which just seems... reductive. It also irks me when Akemi is merely upheld as a love interest and romantic device for Mizu and nothing more, when she is literally Mizu's narrative foil (takes far more narrative precedence over romantic interest) and the deuteragonist of this show. She is her own person. That is literally the theme of her entire character and arc.

[intotheelliwoods]

Little PSA

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

Diabolik Lovers More Character Song SKiT Dolce Character Message Cards

EDIT: The cards have all been translated by the wonderful @otomehonyaku ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡. You can find the translations for the M bros here, and the S bros here!

Do NOT repost the scans anywhere!

[sleepinglionhearts]

Oh, it’s gonna be the way you always thought it would be

but it’s gonna be no illusion

Oh, it’s gonna be the way you always dreamt about it

but it’s gonna be really happenin’ to ya

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[michelle-jacksons-art-blog]

To be loved is to be changed.

[jadewritesficshere]

Pretty

Eddie Munson x reader

Contains: no plot just filth, sub!Eddie Munson, bound hands, edging, slight overstim, cumplay, ass play, aftercare, pet names (Eddie is called Baby), no gender descriptors for reader (your thighs are mentioned but not size or shape just that Eddie finds them beautiful)

This is unedited I wrote this in a blur idk how many words maybe 1k ill add that at a later time

18+ only!

"You look so pretty like this."

Eddie shudders as he feels your breath against the back of his neck. He looks ahead into the mirror, pupils blown wide at the scene before him.

You sit behind Eddie. A saccharine grin on your face. His back is flush with your front, he can feel every inhale and exhale you take. Your beautiful thighs he wants to bite are on either side of his. Your ankles are locked around his, holding him in place. Eddie's hands are bound with his belt, resting on your thigh.

Eddie's shirt is pushed up, belly button piercing glinting in the low light. The red of his piercing matches the red on his face that runs down his neck. If he had his shirt off, you'd be able to see the blush bleed into the top of his chest. He shivers as you blow against his ear.

"Look how pretty you are Eds."

He lets out a whine as your fingers delicately trail his length. His cock is flushed a deep red, almost purple at the top from how turned on he is. Slightly curved to the left, the tip leaking so much cum he's practically glistening. Your fingers ghost over the slit and his hips jump forward, only for your touch to leave. Teasing him again.

It was torture of the best kind. He isn't sure how long you have been teasing him. Tears in his eyes from pleasure and annoyance. Your hand wrapped firmly around him bringing him to the precipice only to let go before he reaches the edge. Tantalizing touches that sway the line of not enough and too much.

"Say you look pretty Baby."

He gasps as your hand wraps firmly around him again, hoping you won't remove your hand again. His nails dig into your thigh, trying to grab hold of anything he can. He can feel your smirk as you press a kiss to where his shoulder meets his neck. "I uh I look pretty," Eddie's voice is raspy.

"The prettiest boy." You murmur. "The fuck the prettiest boy." Eddie whimpers. A tear rolls down his cheek and he watches as you swipe it away. "Color?" You pause. "Green so green please don't stop," Eddie babbles slightly, turning to face you. You smile sweetly as your hand forces his jaw back to facing the mirror.

With your ankles locked around Eddie's, you spread your legs, thus causing his to spread wide open. Its obscene, being fully on display. "Awh," you coo at him, making him whine. Eddie shivers as you slide your hand up and down his shaft, your other hand gently squeezing his heavy balls.

Eddie jumps as you trail your fingers lower. You lightly press against his hole, just enough for him to feel it. It takes him a minute to realize the moan he hears was from himself. His cock leaks another spurt of precum, dribbling down your hand as you continue to jerk him off.

You remove the pressure teasing his hole and swipe up the cum that has leaked onto your hand. You coat your finger with it before pressing against Eddie's tight hole again. Your gently slide your finger in.

Eddie can feel his eyes crossing as his mouth drops open. He can feel you pump your finger in and out of him in tandem with the hand that is stroking him up and down. "Gonna come for me? You look so good baby. Look so perfect like this," you kiss the shell of his ear. Eddie nods, barely able to open his eyes. Barely able to think of anything as he feels the warm pleasure spreading throughout his limbs.

His hips snap up as a loud whine leaves him. His brain goes silent as pleasure comes over him in waves. You never falter your pace, its almost too much as he keeps cumming. It's the hardest and longest he has ever come, it almost knocks the breath out of him. His senses hone in on the euphoria he feels, numbing his mind to everything but the pleasure.

He pants and gasps as he slowly comes back to himself. He's barely aware he's holding onto your thigh with a death grip. "Did so good baby, so good." You murmur. "Uh-huh." Eddie can feel his heart beating in his chest. His limbs feel like jello. He's pretty sure if he tried to stand his legs would shake.

You slowly move out from behind him (wait when did you stop touching him?). Eddie opens his eyes, tracking you as you grab a water bottle and wash cloth on the bedside table. You wet the wash cloth before wiping the cum off him. Eddie tries not to but jumps from still being sensitive. You murmur apologies, as if you have anything to apologize for. If Eddie's tongue didn't feel of lead, he would sing your praises.

You toss the wash cloth away and quickly undo the belt around Eddie's wrists. Even though there isn't a mark, you take your time massaging his wrists and hands. You gently place a kiss on the back of both of his hands. If he wasn't already completely in love with you, that would have done it.

Eddie can barely focus on your words, barely think through how good he feels. He's aware you are holding the water bottle up to his lips and he drinks greedily. You swipe away the water that dribbles down his chin.

Eddie curls into you, head against your chest listening to your heart. You slowly stroke his hair, comforting him. He's aware you're whispering to him, praising him. All he can think about is how loved he feels in this moment. How safe he is in your arms. How he can fully let go and know you have him. How he knows you love him with your whole being, just as he loves you.

[scruncheduppaper]

if i see one more ford hate post on my tl im genuinely going to go insane

YES hes a dick but a) hes a fictional character b) he CHANGES and DEVELOPS and REDEEMS HIMSELF BY THE END OF THE SERIES and c) ITS COOL THAT HE HAS AN EGO. ITS COOL

and also im starting to lose interest in fiddlestan because at this point its becoming clear that people only ship it because they dont like ford and they think that fidds doesnt deserve him AS IF THE CONFLICT ISNT THE APPEAL OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP??? AS IF IT ISNT THE POINT??? AND AS IF THEIR RECONCILIATION BY THE END OF THE STORY ISNT A PERFECT ENDING TO FORDS ARC im gonna bite someone i swear.

look someone on twitter said that “some fiddlestan shippers are just fiddauthor shippers in disguise” and its PISSING ME THE FUCK OFF because IM SORRY DO YOU GUYS NOT SHIP CHARACTERS BECAUSE YOU’RE INTERESTED IN DIFFERENT RELATED CHARACTER DYNAMICS?? WHAT ARE YOU JUST HERE FOR THE LOVEY DOVEY SHIT??? the REASON why fiddlestan is INTERESTING TO ME in the FIRST PLACE is because it elaborates on both of these characters with respect to their relationships to ford!!! there’s nothing wrong with the fact that theyre connected to him!!! these arent real people, these are characters that act as vehicles to explores messages in stories!!! of COURSE i only ship fiddlestan in relation to fiddauthor, why would i cut ford out here completely when it’s SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING TO RECOGNISE THEIR COMPLEX DYNAMICS IN RELATION TO HIM???

and i hear people going like “oh well i just wanna see fiddleford happy!!” and im like. but without the conflict. like who is he. some twink you can just mold however you want?? without his Flaws and his Complex Relationships with his family and ford and his eventual descent into madness What are you Seeing in him?? not to mention the fact that i dont think stan would treat him better anyways lol

and also im getting the vibe that the reason a lot of people ship fiddlestan nowadays is because people like. dislike ford?? and i said this just now but like hes genuinely such an interesting character as well and it makes me sad to see that the only people who appreciate his character idolise him without seeing his flaws and literally everyone else just hates him like YALL TALK SHIT ABT LIKING MORALLY GREY CHARACTERS BUT WHEN A CHARACTER ACTUALLY IS MORALLY GREY YOU TURN AROUND AND GO LIKE “ehhhhh” like COME ON PLEASE YOU HAVE TO SEE THE VISION FORD IS STILL COOL AND IM GONNA DEFEND HIM WITH MY LIFE

its actually kinda pissing me off the amount of fluffy characterisation fiddlestan gets within the fandom, at the expense of ford, bc oh my fucking godddd PLEASEEE CAN WE HAVE THE ERA WHEN I FIRST DISCOVERED FIDDLESTAN BACKKK BECAUSE THE CONTENT THEN WAS SO FUCKING GOOD

[fishofthewoods]

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?

[fyoht]

season 2 + nods to 'crowley was raphael' truthers

[turtletaubwrites]

Your Katakuri fic was so sweet!(no pun intended) I think a honeymoon continuation would be great but even without it’s the cutest thing ever just to think about!

Thank you so much! I'm falling for this big softie now 😭🍩💜

It was going to be a one shot, but they are just so stinkin' cute that I'm thinking about writing their honeymoon. It's just...

He's just...

He's 16 and a half ft (509 cm) tall!?!!

I prefer to stick close to canon, but this would definitely be in the monster fucking category, and my brain has been trying to work out the logistics, lol

If I can't figure it out, I'll probably write another fluffy SFW part and fade to black I guess...

Let me know in the poll below if you'd like me to attempt some Katakuri smut, lol. (My first poll ever is about whether or not to bang a giant, I love it here 😂)

I love him, and I want him, but look at him compared to the average women's height (which is my exact height, lol)

😳😳😳

I could make out with his knees 🤦🏼‍♀️

Side note, the internet is so fucking funny. I was trying to look up what an average range of penis size would be if the person was 16.5 ft tall, but all I could find was a slew of men yelling that height has nothing to do with it.

Yes, I know, my guys. I just need to know if Katakuri can consummate without killing his sweet little doughnut girl 😅

Lol, I had to look it up again before posting this. Apparently the average U.S. length is 7.68% of height sooo. How we feeling about 14.5 inches (39 cm)??? let me know 😳

[primalmagic]

when horror movies become therapy

it's been a year after the webtoon's final events, and the gang still can't watch real horror movies.

OR a sbg future au consisting purely of fluff, sleepovers, and, well, horror movies.

—

You would think, that one year later, things would have settled down. That everyone would be trying to get their lives back together, figure things out, and leave the past far, far, behind them.

The truth could not be farther from that.

The six of them have huddled together on Ashlyn's slightly bouncy couch, watching a crappy horror movie that was way too loud and way too flashy.

Watching horror movies had become a tradition between them, like a "take that" to everything they'd been through. It was a slow climb, sure, but it was something to do, and it made them all feel a little bit accomplished. Not being scared of another movie felt like giving a middle finger to the horror movie they lived through- almost like a step towards being... normal again.

Plus, they got to do it together.

"Someday," Taylor mutters, "We'll have the guts to go and watch a real horror film without freaking out."

Aiden snorts, shifting on the couch to avoid being squished between Tyler and Ashlyn. "Please, you wouldn't last ten seconds in an actual movie theatre."

She flicks him in the shoulder and sighs in pretend exasperation, "Please, you didn't last ten seconds in an actual movie theatre." She retorts, raising her eyebrows.

Aiden looks away, slightly red and embarrassed, "That was like, three months ago! And it was scary, okay? The ghoul thing looked like a phantom. There's no way you weren't scared too."

She can't deny that she'd also been freaking out, but Aiden's vocal reaction had made the entire group laugh for hours. He'd gotten up on his chair and screamed curses at the theatre screen, then spider-jumped two rows down and bounced outside. No, literally, he was practically hopping, flailing his arms and running out the door like an Olympic sprinter. He denies it, for some reason, justifying it with a flick of his hand and an insistence of it being only for the dramatics.

"Never said we weren't scared," Ashlyn blurts, grabbing a handful of sweet-and-salty popcorn out of an oddly geometrically decorated bowl, "Just sayin' that you didn't need to run out like Logan did when we first met him."

Logan squawks indignantly, "I did not run when I first met you!" He gets up to snatch some popcorn from Ashlyn's bowl, and makes an unpleasant face when he pops one into his mouth. "God, this is like if table salt and caramel had a baby, and then left it alone in a cornfield for a century."

"It's delicious," Ashlyn frowns, "You're taste buds are just deformed."

"I-"

"Guys," Tyler groans, "Can we just watch the fucking movie?"

Aiden leans over to ruffle his hair, causing Tyler to squeak and try to move away. "Aw, poor Tyler," He snickers, "I think he's enjoying the movie. We should all be quiet and let him watch it, then."

"I'm not!" He protests, because the film is terrible and it would be incredibly embarrassing to enjoy it, "I just want you guys to shut up."

Taylor frowns, "No you don't," She declares, definitively.

He groans, "Either you guys watch the movie and shut up, or you turn off the movie and complain about disfigured salt babies for hours. There is no in-between."

Ben types something on his iPad and raises it for the rest to see, Both, please, and thank you. He smirks slightly, clearly proud of pissing Tyler off.

He groans, "You guys are exhausting, I'm leaving. I have to get to practice early tomorrow anyway."

"No!" Aiden screams, launching himself at the tired boy, "You are not allowed to leave, buddy. You are being held hostage by the Phantom Busters, please do not rebel in any form or way."

"I... plead the fifth?" He blinks, knowing that there isn't any way out of this.

"We're having a sleepover," Logan declares, "No negotiations necessary. Or allowed."

Tyler rolls his eyes, but his irritated persona is broken when he smiles, "Yeah, sure, fine, whatever."

Ashlyn grabs another handful of popcorn, "You know, you do have to ask the person whose house it is if you want to have a sleepover, right?"

"Nope," Aiden shrugs, "But I asked your mom already."

She snorts, throwing a piece of popcorn at him, "When the hell did you do that?"

It lands in Taylor's hair, and she swats it off quickly.

"Like, right before we started the movie? You just didn't see me 'cause I'm a fucking ninja," He finger-guns her and swirls around, "Now, if you will excuse me, I must notify my parents that they are free of another morning with me."

The movie has stopped playing, and when Ashlyn finally notices, she furrows her eyebrows, "When the hell did the movie turn off?"

Ben waves the remote and throws it to Aiden, who just put his phone down.

"It's been confisticated," Aiden declares, punching his hand in the air like he's holding a gold medal instead of a TV remote.

Logan sighs, "Confiscated," he corrects.

"That's what I fucking said!"

"Whatever," Taylor waves him off, "We can finish the movie tomorrow. You guys want to play charades?"

"Can I be a clown?"

She sighs, "It doesn't work like tha-"

"Don't worry, Aiden, you don't need to pretend," Tyler grins, then ducks away from the popcorn kernel Aiden chucks at him.

"I hate you," He snaps back, with no heat behind his words.

"Ditto," He replies, still basking in the warmth of Aiden's rage.

The blonde calms down rather quickly, or at least he hides his anger as fast as possible. "You know what, thank you. I am a wonderful clown and as I stand here today, I demand justice for all the clowns in the world! You have wronged them, Sir Tyler of the Hernandez." He bows dramatically.

Taylor wheezes, "I need to get that printed on a T-shirt, oh my god."

Aiden nods rapidly, "Oh my god, absolutely, we need matching T-shirts and like, earrings."

You don't even have your ears pierced. Ben types, sharing an amused glance with Logan.

"What about the clip-on things? We could totally get that!!"

Tyler flops back onto the couch, nearly knocking into Logan, who pushes him away lightly. "Aiden, you have too much energy right now, and it's almost midnight. Can we sleep now?"

Aiden looks at him like he's insane, "Who goes to sleep during a sleepover?"

"Me. Good night, Aiden," Tyler smiles, amused.

"Fine," He grumbles, "Let's get the sleeping bags out."

The fact that they all had sleeping bags at Ashlyn's house only proved that they had slept over way too many times to count. Not that she minded though, it was nice having people around, and now that she was comfortable with them, it was almost relaxing.

Sure, it got tiring sometimes, but it was a small price to pay.

Besides, without them, who else would she watch horror movies with?

[sleepinglionhearts]

Ensemble Stars... so many new little guys in my phone... 🎶

[imakemywings]

Orodreth: So how is Thingol handling being an empty-nester?

Beleg: This is Turin, his new mortal son. We're working on getting mom and sister too.

Orodreth: Gotcha.

[jacksprostate]

Treatise on why No, the doctor just giving the narrator of Fight Club (full name) his requested sleep medication or sending him to therapy would not have Fixed Him

Firstly, saying giving him the insomnia meds would’ve fixed him ignores the reason he has insomnia in the first place. He is so deeply upset by his place in society that he literally cannot sleep. Drugging him to sleep would not change that. That, of course, is the easy, quick response.

But with regard to therapy? The biggest flaw is that it ignores a central tenet of the book. Part of what tortures the narrator and drives him to invent Tyler is that his feelings about this collective, systemic issue are constantly reduced to a Just Him thing. His seatmates ask what his company is. He’s the only one upset at the office. He gets weird looks if he says the truth of what he does. People will do anything in their power to pretend he is the issue, as an individual, because it is far scarier to consider the full implications of the systemic issues implied by what he is saying. Everyone treats it as if the issue is him, so he goes insane. He does anything to get someone to say, holy shit, that’s fucked up, what you’re a part of is wrong. In an attempt to feel any sort of vague sympathy and catharsis, he goes to support groups to pretend to be dying, because then at least people don’t habitually blame him for his anguish. 

Saying therapy would fix him ignores that his problems are not individual. They are collective. It’s the reason the entire story resonates with people! Something deeply, unignorably wrong with society, where people would rather blame you for bringing it up than try and address it, because it feels impossible. I don’t blame people for this, really, because it IS scary. It’s terrifying to sit and feel like you’ve realized there’s something deeply, deeply wrong, but if you say something, people will get mad at you since it’s so baked into everything around you. Or, even if they agree, it’s easier to deal with the dissonance by pretending it’s individual.

And it’s not like that’s not the purpose therapy and medications largely serve, anyway. Getting into dangerous territory for this website, but ultimately, the reason the narrator was seeking medication was because it’s a bandaid. A very numbing bandaid. For these very large, dissonance causing problems, therapy does very little. Medications do what they always have, and distract you with numbness or side effects. It’s a false solution. He is seeking an individualized false solution because he has been browbeaten with the idea that this is an issue with him alone, when it's plainly clear it's not. 

Don't get me wrong. Obviously he has something wrong with him. But it's a product of his situation. It is a fictional exaggeration of a very real occurrence of mental illness provoked by deep unconscionable dissonance and anguish.  There is a clear correlation between what happens and his mental state and his job and how isolated he is. 

The thing is, even if he were chemically numbed, I do think he would’ve lost it regardless. Many people on meds find they don’t fix things. For reasons I’ll get into, but in this case because even if numbed or distracted, once you’ve learned about deep, far reaching corruption in society, it’s very hard to forget. Especially if, in his case, you literally serve as the acting hand of this particular variety. He’s crawling up the walls. 

So why do people say this?  Well, it's funny I guess. Maybe the first time or whatever. But also, often, they believe it, to a degree. Maybe they've just been told how effective therapy and meds are for mental illness, they believe wholeheartedly in The Disease Model of Mental Illness, maybe they themselves have engaged with either and have considered it successful. Maybe they or someone they know has been 'saved' by such treatments. 

But in all honesty.... What therapy can help with is mentality, it's how you approach problems. For issues on a smaller scale, not meaning they are easier to deal with my any degree, but ones that are not raw and direct from deep awareness of corruption; these are things that can be worked through if you get lucky and get an actually good therapist who helps build up your resiliency. But when your issue is concrete, something large and inescapable? It's useless. At best it can help you develop coping mechanisms, but there is a limit for that. There is a point where that fails. To develop the ability to handle something like this requires intense development of a comfort with ambiguity and dissonance and being isolated and a firm positioning of your purpose and values and and belief in wonder and all the other shit I ramble about. The things that the narrator lacks, which lead him to taking an ineffectual death knell anarchist self-destruction path. Therapy, where the narrator is, full of the knowledge of braces melted to seats and all the people that have to allow this to happen? It fails. 

And meds — meds are a fucking scam. We know the working mechanism of basically none of them, the serotonin receptor model was made up and paid its way into prominence. We have very little evidence they're any better than placebo, and they come with genuinely horrific side effects. Maybe you got lucky. I did, on some meds. On others? I don't remember 2018. The pharmaceutical industry is also known for rampant medical ghostwriting, and for creating 'off-label' uses for drugs that have gained too many protests in their original use, then creating a cult of use to then have 'grassroots' campaigns for it to be made a label use (ie, legitimize their ghostwritten articles with guided anecdotes). 

The DSM itself is basically a marketing segregation plot. It's an attempt to legitimize the disease model by isolating subgroups of symptoms to propose individualized treatments for subgroups that are not necessarily all that separate. But if the groups exist, you can prescribe more and different medications, no? Not to mention, if you use the disease model, you can propose that these diseases are permanent, or permanent until treated, considered more and more severe to offset and justify the horrific side effects of the medications. Do you know why male birth control doesn't really exist? Same reason. They can justify all the horrible side effects for women, because the other option is pregnancy. For men, it's nothing. 

And they're not bothering to invent new drugs without side effects. When they invent new drugs it's just because the last one got too bad of a name, or they can enter a new market. Modern drugs don't work any better than gen1 drugs. They still have horrific side effects. At best, the industry will shit out studies saying the old one was flawed (truth) so they can say this new gen will be better (lie). They're doing it with ssris right now. 

Fundamentally, the single proposed benefit of any of these drugs is that they numb you. To whatever is torturing you. It's harder to be depressed if you can't feel it, or if you just can't muster the same outrage. Of course, there is people who find that numbness to be helpful, or worth it. But often, it's stasis. For the people who have problems that can be worked on, it serves as a stopgap to not actually work on said problems. The natural outcome of the disease model is stagnation for those whose need is to develop skills and resiliency. It keeps them medicalized and dependent on the idea that they're diseased and incapable. Profitable. Stuck in the womb. 

I’ve been there. It’s easier, to wallow, and resist growth because it’s difficult and painful and unfair and cruel and you can think of five billion reasons to justify your languishing. But don’t listen to anyone who tells you you’re just permanently damaged, no matter how nicely they word it, no identity or novel pathologization, no matter how many benefits they promise, especially if they swear up and down some lovely expensive medications with little solid backing and plentiful off-label usage and side effects that’ll kill you. Some days it feels like they want us all stuck in pods, agoraphobic and addicted to the ads they feed us to isolate the markets for the drugs they’ve trained us to beg them to pump us with. Polarization making it as easy as flashing blue light for go, red like for stop, or vice versa. I worry about the kids, for fucks sake. That’s a bit dark and intense, and I apologize. But I want you (generic) to understand, there is a profit motive. Behind everything. And they do not mean well. They do not care about your mental health or your rights or your personhood or your growth. They care about how they can profit off of you.

For those struggling with immovable, society problems, like the narrator grappling with how his job fits into and is accepted by society while his rejection and horror in the face of it does not, it can work about as well as any other drug addiction. Your mileage may vary. From what I've seen, recovering from being on prozac for a long time can be worse than alcohol. They put kids on this shit. They keep campaigning for more. Off label, again. A pharmaceutical company’s favorite thing to do has to be to spread rumors of someone who knows someone who said an off label use of this drug helps with this little understood condition. Or, in the case of mental illness, questionably defined condition. And like, damn, I know I'm posting on the 'medicalization is my identity' website so no one will like all this and has probably stopped reading by now, but yall should be exposed to at least one person who doubts this stuff. Doesn't just trust it. Because I mean, that's the thing right?

It's so big. What would it mean, for this all to be true? Yeah, everyone says pharmaceutical companies are evil and predatory and ghostwriting, but to think about what that really entails. Coming back to the book, everyone knows the car lobby is huge and puts dangerous vehicles through that kill people. What does it mean if the car companies all hire people to calculate the cost of a recall and the cost of lawsuits? No one wants to think about the scale that means for people allowing it or the systems that have to be geared towards money, not safety like they say. Hell, even Chuck misses the beat and has the narrator threaten his boss with the Department of Transportation. And shit, man, if every company is doing this, you think Transportation doesn't know? That they give a fuck? You're better off mailing all the evidence to the news outlets and hoping they only character assassinate you a little bit as they release the news in a way that says it's all the fault of little workers like you, not the whole system. Something something, David McBride, any whistleblower you feel like, etc. 

So I don't blame you, if your reaction is "but but but, that can't be right, people wouldn't do it, they wouldn't allow it" or just an overwhelming feeling of dread that pushes you to deny all of this and avoid thinking about it. Just know, that's in the book. That's all the seatmates on the flights. That's all his fellow officemates. It's easier to pretend, I know.

But think about, how the response fits in with the themes of the book. The story, as a movie too. What drives the narrator’s mental breakdown? How would you handle being in his position? How would you handle being his seatmate? It’s easy to say you’d listen. But have you? Have you had any soul wrenching betrayals of how you thought society worked? How about a betrayal by the thing that promised to be the fix of the first? Can you honestly say you wouldn’t follow that gut instinct, saying follow what everyone says, that person must just be crazy, evil, rude, cruel, whatever it is that means you can set what they said aside?

For a lot of people, they can do that, I guess. Set it aside. Reaching that aforementioned state of managing to cope with the dissonance and ambiguity and despair is very hard. The narrator made the Big Realization, but he couldn’t cope. He self-destructed. Even when people don’t make the big realization consciously, they’re already self-destructing. It’s hard to escape it when it feels easier than continuing anyway. When it feels like the only option,

Would therapy fix the narrator of Fight Club? Would meds fix the narrator of Fight Club? No. He knows too much. All meds will do, by the time he’s in the psych ward, is spiritually neuter him. A silly phrase, but really. Take the wind out of his sails. 

Is he fixed if he doesn’t try to blow up town? If he just shuts up and settles in and stops costing money? If he still can’t cope with the things he’s unearthed? Do you see how this is a commentary in a commentary in a commentary?

Fight Club is an absolutely fascinating story because of this. The fact that it addresses the fallout of knowing. The isolation. The hopelessness. The spiral that results from a lack of hope. This is, I think, what resonates most with people, even if not consciously. Going insane because you’ve discovered something you wish you could unknow. It’s a classic horror story. Should our society be lovecraftian evil? I don’t think so. 

Do I think changing it will be easy? No. Lord knows a lot exists to push people who make these sorts of Realizations towards feelings of individuality and individualized solutions and denial and other distractions and coping methods. And to prevent people who make One realization from expanding on it and considering further ramifications. Fight Club itself gets into this; the isolation of men being a strict part of the role society shapes for their sex leaves them very vulnerable to death fetishes, in a sense, and generally towards self destructive violence. It helps funnel them away from substantial change and towards ineffectual change. Many things, misogyny, racism, serve to keep people isolated from one another, individualized, angry, and impossible to work with. Market segregation; god knows even appealing on those fronts has become such a classic ploy that companies do it now, the US military frames its plundering that way, etc. 

I’ve wandered a bit but ultimately, my point is this: Fight Club is a love letter to the horrors of critical thinking, and the importance of not falling into the trap of self destruction and hopelessness in the face of it. The latter is why Tyler was an anarchoterrorist instead of anything useful. The latter is why it was a death cult. It’s important to work through the horrors of critical thinking so you can do it, and stand on the other side ready to believe in each other. It’s worth it.