#i just convinced myself i don't to Survive lol

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

popping on my Complaining Platform to complain about how i have less than 100 euros on my account atm, how my uni and work suck, and how, while i'm trying to get myself into a better situation, it all seems kinda sucky now and it's hard to imagine it working. i feel so blergh ughhhh, and i have no time to feel blergh bc i have to fucking WORK. and people tell me not to work so much, thinking i'm some sort of a workaholic that wants to be productive for the sake of productivity, uwu self-care, but i do not, in fact, work so much to satisfy some imaginary productivity gods, but to get myself out of this misery. i'm responsible for myself and my happiness, and the only thing i figured might work is to like. work hard so i elevate my skillset and get more money in order to get out of here. yes yes i realise you cannot work if you're falling apart, but then i take a short break and i can push again so uhhhh hope i manage pray for me lol (also i am very much not above begging for money, so if anyone can spare a dime for my education thing, my ko-fi is my bio!)

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 6

chapter 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 7

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after months in the wilderness, you finally arrive at chicago. adapting to this new life has its cons, but also its perks. joel's birthday is around the corner, and you have planned for a couple of things you hope he likes...

a/n: hiya! here's chapter six!! it's packed with a bit of everything, especially drama because why not? 🤷 i want to thank you all ― i just realised that the first 3 chapters have hit over 100 notes each! i'm so damn grateful to all of you, honestly. as much as i'm writing for myself, i'm loving how hooked some of you are with this story 😳 also, i'd like to apologise in advance if i have butchered chicago's layout or its history, i did try my best doing some research. as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

warnings: 18+, mdni. mention of Sarah's death. angst. fluff. filthy smut (don't you know me by now?). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). irresponsible use of contraception (don't do that). consensual somnophilia. dry humping. unprotected piv. masturbation (m and f). creampie. pussy slapping. fisting. squirting. cum play. a bit of assplay. makeup sex. sir kink. “bar” fight. alcohol consumption. blood. stabbing. swear words. mention of past racist events and the precursor to the chicago race riot of 1919. soft!dom!joel. a bit of aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is now 37 (🎉!). no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

w/c: ~6.9k.

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981 @fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz

Chicago was definitely not what you had expected at all. Shit had gone down really badly in this place. It took you a week to cross the southwest area, keeping close to Interstate 55 as a reference. The worst you had seen was Chicago Midway International Airport. Airplanes had crashed on the runway, the esplanade was a makeshift cemetery even almost a year after Outbreak Day. Bodies piled on top of each other, fires would break out in the adjacent buildings. The control tower was completely dilapidated. And the grounds were full of clickers.

Tommy, Joel and you made it through the worst neighbourhoods. As you covered more miles, Tommy and Joel realised that this had not been the best idea. But you were already there, so the best option was to move forward. You all had to defend yourselves, and each other. Although the Miller brothers took out many attackers ―humans and infected alike―, you also had your good share of action. You didn’t like it, but you were good at shooting. Your clothes were stained with blood and sweat. You endured, and you survived. That was what mattered.

The whole city was in shambles, divided by two different groups: the government and the rebels. The government held the north side of the Chicago River, from River North Gallery District all the way to Old Town ― basically everything to the east of Interstate 90. The rebels, on the other hand, controlled the south ― all the movable bridges along the whole Wacker Drive, from New Eastside to Chinatown. Anything further south or north, and between Interstates 55 and 90, from Little Village to Naperville, was no man’s land.

You ended up on the rebels’ side randomly. Tommy was not very happy about it, blaming the communists for overpowering the government, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. If you tried to cross any bridge to go northwards, you would be shot at with no warning. From both sides.

It took a while to convince the Rioters ― that was how the rebels called themselves. Two weeks later, on the 20th of August, you were given a place to stay near the Art Institute of Chicago, which was also the operations base. You did try to integrate yourself in this society as you knew it was better to have more friends than foes. The Millers, however, kept to themselves ― Joel more than Tommy, as you had expected. No surprises there.

The flat you were in was in urgent need of repairs but was better than sleeping rough. You and Joel fixed as many things as you both could, while Tommy took cleaning very seriously. It wasn’t much, but it was the place you called home for the last month. The only downside was that it only had two bedrooms, so Joel and you sadly had to share the only double bed available, while Tommy had his own room.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself ― the last four weeks had been pure bliss in a sense. Waking up every day besides Joel had become a delightful habit. He had awakened you many a times either in the middle of the night or in the early morning to give him a hand. Literally. And you had done exactly the same thing when you had needed it. You were sure Tommy was sick and tired of you two, but you didn’t care.

You stretched out, still lying in bed. The morning light had not come through the curtains yet, but it soon would. You rubbed your eyes and then let your arms drop to your sides dramatically. You were not a morning person, but your sleeping schedule was all fucked up. You rolled to your other side in an attempt to get comfortable.

Joel was sleeping on his right side. You had noticed he usually did in the same position. When you had asked him why, he had explained his hearing in his right ear was messed up since his suicide attempt. You wished you could have been faster that day to prevent the gun from going off. Ah, the regrets you both had…

His back was towards you, him facing the door. Despite the repairs you all had done to the flat, it was still not the safest. Every night one of you would make sure all locks were engaged and would bar the front door. A few days ago, someone attempted to break in. Since then, all of you would sleep with a firearm nearby.

Today was Sunday ― 26th of September. Which meant it was Joel’s birthday, as well as the first anniversary of Outbreak Day. The anniversary of Sarah's death would be tomorrow too. You had tried to talk to Joel about today, but he didn’t seem to be interested in celebrating at all, which you completely understood. As much as you wanted to do something, you respected his decision. You had only planned for a couple of low-key things, which you hoped he wouldn’t mind.

He had fallen asleep only with his briefs on, the bedsheet draping around his legs. You couldn’t see, but you were damn sure he had his arms crossed at his chest, always on guard. Your eyes dwelled on his upper body, two perfect dimples on his lower back. His shoulders were broad and toned, his waist smaller. He was not the most muscular guy you had ever seen, but he was perfect the way he was. His calloused hands had shown you multiple times how good he was for you, despite what he thought of himself.

You couldn’t resist, your mouth dry. Your fingertips traced the curve of his neck, then his left shoulder down to his elbow. Your hand caressed his left hip and slipped down to his front, following his V line. Your fingers touched the elastic of his briefs ― and something else.

You gulped down the knot in your throat, your heart beating harder in your chest, when your fingertips brushed over the damp tip of his cock. Joel’s morning wood was so prominent, his glans had slipped out of his underwear and was showing. You wetted your lips as you stroked him carefully. A deep, almost guttural growl flowed from Joel’s chest.

You got closer to him in bed, your nipples grazing the skin on his back even through your pyjamas. It probably wasn’t the best time ― you knew he was tired, but you wanted him so badly. Liquid fire was pooling in your furrow, knowing his erection was right there for you to play with.

Your internal battle didn’t last long.

You pulled down his briefs to free his warm dick. You didn’t need to look to know his shaft was resting against his happy trail, the head touching his belly button. With no hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his cock, squeezing him delicately. Then you slid your hand down his meaty column, holding him firmly, in a very slow but strong pump.

He groaned, still asleep as far as you could tell, as you started pumping him ― more heat and excitement gathering in your pussy. You dunked your fingers in your panties, touching yourself. You were already wet, the mere thought of making him yours was enough. You kissed his left shoulder at the same time he uncrossed his arms ― his left hand over yours, feeling the rhythm you were imparting on him.

He was awake.

Joel didn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he was sure it wasn’t this. When he looked down and saw your tiny hand trying to muffle his cock, he closed his eyes with a sigh. That felt damn good. He was knackered after last night’s patrolling shift, but this was exactly what he needed to decompress.

He turned around, his back flat against the uncomfortable mattress. His eyes were pinned on yours, your sweet hand upping the speed. You leaned towards him and invaded his mouth with your devilish tongue. Joel moaned in the middle of the kiss ― his brain completely switched off. He could not think straight when you were handling him like that.

Quickly letting go of his erection and mouth, you got rid of your pyjama shorts and your underwear. Then you doubled down your efforts with the handjob ― his throbbing cock was calling for you. You could see a few drops of precum sliding off his veiny shaft, which you swiftly gathered with your thumb to rub them against his leaking slit. You felt his dick pulsating hard for you ― your cunt palpitating at exactly the same time, anticipating. Your bodies were fully synchronised.

You then climbed on top of him, his balls welcoming the touch from your puffy lips. You rolled your hips against his, looking for that friction you so much loved, and took a deep breath before taking off the top of your pyjamas, throwing it to one side. You bended down, your mouth looking for his, so thirsty.

“Good morning, handsome”, you whispered as a greeting.

“Mhmmm”, was the only thing he managed to hum, sleepy.

You smiled and broke off the contact, straightening your back. His rough hands slid from your knees, across your thighs, to your butt. He clasped your ass cheeks with assertiveness. With no more words than those, you took his steely cock in your hand and lifted your hips. You glided his glans over your damp fold a few times, your cunt beseeching to be stuffed.

You guided his tip to kiss your entrance and descended on his dick slowly, very slowly, the palms of your hands flat against his lower abdomen to steady yourself. You closed your eyes, head tilted backwards, and whined loudly. Each inch was a blessing. Once his cock was entirely inside of you, you peeked back down at him and did a circular motion with your hips. His eyes were so intense you couldn’t look away while you started riding him.

Joel closed his eyes unwillingly when the muscles in his lower belly cramped. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this, so forced himself to open them again ― he loved seeing how the pleasure transformed your beautiful features. Your half-lidded eyes, your lips parted, a river of pearly sweat coming down in between your bosom. Your perfectly round breasts bouncing in front of him. He was a lucky bastard.

He liberated your ass, his hands drifting to your bust, holding your tits. While he kneaded that tender flesh and coddled your nipples, you covered his hands with yours. You were still jumping on top of him, albeit more erratically, as you felt an orgasm hit you with full force. You mewled as your needy pussy discharged the seed of your pleasure all over him, hugging his hard erection, strangling his cock, encouraging him to come with you.

Joel was so damn close to coming, his nuts contracted with equal parts of pain and lust. He could feel your gush soaking his dick. He was about to lose his goddamn mind ― he needed to stop. His hands abandoned your breasts to place them on your butt to help you lift it up, so you would release his cock before it was too late.

“No, it’s okay. Fill me up, please, sir”, you wailed, your palms against his chest, your hips grinding against his.

Joel glimpsed at you with doubt. It was like you could read his mind, because you knew what he was thinking. You smiled softly, your wet pussy palpitating around his cock. You forced your inner walls to contract against him as you leaned forward to kiss him.

“I’ve got the morning after pill. Please, please, Joel, come inside, I beg you. Trust me”, you wept, laying down on top of him.

He thought himself mad for believing you, but he did. Because he was mad for you, regardless of what he tried to convince himself of. He lifted your butt up off his lap with his hands ― with the help of his legs, the heels of his feet against the bedsheets, he thrusted into you like a madman while you remained still on top of him. Drilling your weeping cunt, as hard and fast as he could. He just wanted to know how it felt just once; he wanted you to milk him dry.

Joel fucked you like there was no tomorrow, the room echoing with the squishy sounds and the impact of flesh on flesh. He was fucking you so hard that you came again at the same time he spilled his spent in you ― Joel groaned like you never heard him before. The slick warmth you felt inside made you smile, your face buried in the curve of his neck, your nipples brushing his. With his pulsing dick still inside of you, you bit the skin on his neck, leaving a mark behind.

“Happy birthday, sir”, you whispered in his ear.

That was your gift to him. And to yourself, because you had wanted this from the very first time he impaled you in the forest. You had had to trade a few bits for the morning after pill, but it was worth every single one of them. You felt your cave so clogged with him and his cum, you thought you had descended to hell.

You both stilled, catching your breaths. His dick was still twitching, housed by your greedy, soaked cunt.

A minute later, he sat up on the bed, bit your mouth and lifted your butt up, his cock becoming free. He quickly laid you down in fetal position ― resting on your righthand side, back slightly curved, head bowed, your knees bent touching your breasts. He placed a hand on your left hip and tilted your pelvis a bit forward, so he could inspect your heart-shaped ass and your puffy, reddened pussy framed by your inner thighs.

Just in time to see his cum gushing out of your hole, dripping across your perineum and then going downwards, skidding through your butt cheek. One of his digits caught the semen before it hit the bedsheets, retraced its steps back and shoved the cum back inside of you with the push of his finger.

“You can’t waste my gift to you, baby, it’d be so fucking rude of you”, he purred in your ear, his voice coarse and warm at the same time.

He laid on his side behind you, moving his index in a circular motion, looking for your g-spot and finding it. He stroked it dextrously, sliding it in and out slowly. You closed your eyes, and fisted the bedsheet in your hand, trying to hold onto something. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ when he bottomed out, quickly adding a second finger. And a third. Then a fourth.

It didn’t take long for your pussy to adjust to such delightful intrusion ― your inner walls felt like clay, reshaping around him. Joel could feel you relax around his fingers and took the chance, introducing his thumb in your pussy too. Now his entire hand was buried in your fluttering cunt, down to his wrist. He remained still for a hot minute while your muscles loosened up to house him.

Then he slowly started to pump his fist inside of you, back and forth, building up a steady pace. Joel bit your shoulder and then kissed it ― his tongue tasting the saltiness of your sweat.

By that point you couldn’t stop moaning very loudly ― the whole building was probably listening to your whoring screams as Joel fisted you relentlessly with his whole hand. Each push propelling his cum further inside of you as if he wanted it to take. He was thrusting you so harsh, your entire body was rocking back and forth on the bed. He was fucking you senseless just with his hand ― and you were loving every single second of it.

Your sticky cunt couldn’t take it for much longer ― it was wet, pulsating, contracting, overstimulated, yearning… Your pussy literally was his, and only his. The orgasm had been building up for so long now that when you let it go, weeping at the top of your lungs, it hit you like a motherfucking truck. Your whole body went into shock while you squirted ― you were shaking due to the force of your own release. For fuck’s sake, you could barely breathe.

You whimpered again when he removed his hand and rubbed your wetness all over your delicate folds. Before you could form a coherent thought, he spanked you on your crotch so firmly it tingled ― you almost died and went to heaven right there and then, biting into the pillow underneath your head. He kept on slapping your quivering cunt until your sensitive clit twitched one last time with devastating pleasure, contracting your uterus so the last trickle of cum oozed out of you. He caught it with his thumb and brushed it gently against your asshole, caressing the tight ring, until you fully relaxed.

You sighed, unable to move. You even felt dizzy. Your limbs felt so limp you didn’t think you could sit up, so you just stayed there, melting against the bedsheets. You hadn’t realised your eyes had welled up until a few tears ran down your cheeks. Tears of complete, utter joy ― there was no other way of describing it.

You were so damn grateful for this man, you swore to yourself you would never let him go. You had been with others, but none of your sexual partners had been so fucking attentive. Joel would always make sure you were completely satisfied, without fail. And that said a lot about him.

You rolled onto your back to look at him, wiping away the tears with a satisfied smile and dreamy eyes. He was still lying down on his side, his elbow against the bed, his head resting on the palm of his hand. He returned your smile ― such gesture transforming his rugged face. So gorgeous it tugged at your heart.

“Y’know, it was supposed to be all the way around today ― me fucking you until you begged”, you confessed, although it was not a complaint.

He grinned, his hand possessively cupping your mound. You parted your legs slightly so he could massage your sensitive furrow. It felt so calming after all that pussy-slapping he gifted you with.

“As redundant as it sounds, plans rarely go according to plan, sweetheart”.

Understatement of the fucking year, you thought.

You just laughed while his hand was still kneading your sticky flaps. Joel kissed your forehead before he took out his hand from in between your legs, your damp, intimate skin being swept by the cold air.

“The morning after pill?”, he asked a minute later.

“I got it from Kelsey, it’s in date. Don’t panic, it’s okay. I have three days to take it. Which made me think… I don’t need to do it straight away, right?”, you glanced up at him, a wide smile on your lips.

“Mhmm, I mean, it would be a waste otherwise, I guess”, he replied, tucking a stray hairlock behind your ear. “But I need a minute here, darlin’. You work miracles, but even I have limits. Wait up”, he mumbled grumpily as he palmed his left wrist, and then got out of bed while he tucked away his member back in his briefs.

Joel headed towards the en-suite bathroom. He came back out only a few seconds later ― you could see panic in his eyes. You sat back up on the mattress quickly.

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked with worry, kneeling on the bed.

“My wristwatch, I can’t find it. I am sure I left it by the sink before I came to bed last night. I can’t lose it. I can’t”, he was now frantically searching his bedside table, panic growing in his tone.

You bit down your lip, because you knew where it was. In the drawer of your nightstand. You had taken it in the middle of the night because your second present was getting it repaired for him today.

“I have it”, you whispered, shrugging with an apologetic smile.

“What? Why?”, he approached you, extending his hand towards you, his tone so serious. “Give it back now”, he almost growled at you.

His reaction took you completely off guard. Why was he so possessive over a broken watch? Trying to understand the sudden change in Joel, you opened the drawer and took it out.

“I just wanted to get it fixed for you, as a gift”, you didn’t understand what was happening.

“You have not fixed it, have you?! Because if you have―”, he snatched it off your hand, inspecting it.

You frowned ― his attitude towards you was completely off. What the hell was going on?

“Don’t you dare touch my fucking things, is that clear?”, he snapped.

You looked at him blankly, speechless. Then your own temperament started to shimmer under the surface.

“Wow, wow, wow ― Calm the fuck down, Joel. It’s just a broken, useless watch―”, you stopped yourself because of his perplexed look.

“Shut up. It’s not just any watch. You don’t fucking understand”, he yapped.

“I would try and understand if you just fucking explained it to me?!”, you shouted at him while you got dressed. “What is your fucking problem, Joel? What’s up with that watch? I don’t read minds!”.

“Forget it”, he grumbled, strapping the watch to his wrist before putting his trousers on and grabbing a T-shirt, heading towards the door.

“That’s it? You just up and leave?”, you repressed the urge of throwing a pillow to his head.

“I’ve got stuff to do”, he muttered.

A few seconds later, you heard him opening the front door. Then he slammed it shut.

It was around lunchtime now and you had not seen Joel since this catastrophic morning. While you had the impression that Joel’s reaction was due to something he would not speak about, he had no fucking right to treat you that way. You were just trying to do something nice for him, that was all.

You walked through the main hallway of the Art Institute of Chicago. It was rammed with people running around ― some armed, some not. You didn’t think that humanity would prevail in big groups in such circumstances, but it did.

The Rioters had established some sort of order. People had tasks to do, everyone working together to build up a community. Chores were allocated according to people’s skills. Joel had been put on patrolling shifts, Tommy was helping with carpentry and other building jobs, and you were in the hunting group. As much as you hated pulling the trigger, you were a very good shot. All thanks to your good old Texan father.

You were on your way to check with the group if there were any plans of going out today when you got interrupted.

“Hey”, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“What’s up, Joyce?”, you looked at the older woman when you turned around.

Joyce was around fifty five years of age, maybe more, and was the kindest soul you had ever met. She had welcomed you to Chicago like a mother a daughter. Joyce showed you around, explained how the Rioters worked and guided you in the right direction. Because as good as everything looked, there was still darkness lurking around.

She was also the best cook ever. Like, no jokes, she could transform a tasteless rabbit in the most flavourful stew your tastebuds had ever been in contact with.

“I just finished cooking, do you want some stew?”, she asked with a warm smile.

Your stomach growled at the mere idea.

“Fuck yeah”, you replied ― your duties could wait, surely.

“Watch your language, kiddo”, Joyce reprimanded you.

“Sorry, sorry”, all that time you spent with Joel was showing.

You followed her to the canteen and patiently waited for Joyce to pour some stew in a bowl. You then went with her to a table where more people were sat down. You didn’t know any of them, so Joyce introduced you. You were damn sure you weren’t going to remember one single name by the time you walked out the door.

“So, you’ve never heard the story of Eugene Williams?”, one of the men asked rhetorically to a younger fellow across the table, who shook his head in reply. “He was a black kid in 1919, when racial segregation was still in place here in Chicago. The summer of 1919 was so hot the kid wandered off to the white side of Chicago beach without realising. A man threw stones at him until the kid drowned and died. That was what ignited the Chicago Race Riot of 1919 ― and why we, the resistance, go by the Rioters”.

You listened to every word while you ate your meal. After hearing that explanation, many things made sense. Although they named themselves the Rioters, there were no riots in the streets ― actually, people seemed happy here, given the circumstances.

“That’s right, Walter, younger people need to learn about the past, so those mistakes are never repeated again”, said Joyce.

The conversation then moved on to present times, the people talking about the continuous fight against the so-called government.

Joel got the afternoon patrolling shift that day, which he thought was a killer, considering he did the night shift last night. But it was good in a sense ― it would keep his mind occupied. You had angered him so much this morning, it had set his mood for the rest of the day. The thought of you erasing that memory had maddened him so bad, he had to walk out before he said something he would later regret.

That watch was the only anchor chaining him to what little remained of his humanity. A gentle reminder of what could have been but wasn’t. Every day he wondered how Sarah would be doing in this new world. And most days, he was just somewhat grateful she wasn’t here to see what had become of civilisation. The unspeakable horrors she would have witnessed and suffered but didn’t ― it was very little consolation to a father, but it was better than nothing.

He absentmindedly touched the watch on his wrist, ensuring it was properly fastened.

Joel was stationed with other people in front of Bataan-Corregidor Memorial Bridge. In those long, never-ending hours, there was no activity on the other side of the bridge, but they had to remain vigilant nonetheless. By the time the next group showed up, it was already half eight in the evening.

Joel headed towards the headquarters to sign off and go home. He was already on edge, thinking about what he would say to you to appease you. Because he was damn sure you would be waiting for him, ready to pick up the fight where you both left it. As Joel walked past the canteen, he heard a familiar voice.

Tommy was on his feet, yelling at a man, his accusatory index pointing to the guy. Joel rolled the eyes to the back of his head ― he was sure his brother was so drunk he would probably not remember any of this the next day. Joel shook his head with disappointment ― some things would never change, not even when the world had gone to shit.

He planned to ignore the situation and get back home to you, when a fight started. Joel groaned in despair, debating what to do. But a man chose for him ― he saw how a bloke approached Tommy from behind, knife on hand, and he knew he had to do something. Joel quickly closed the distance in stride and grabbed the man from the neck of his shirt, pulling him backwards until the dude stumbled with his own feet.

Madness broke out, the whole canteen becoming a battling ground. People were fighting each other over absolutely nothing, throwing punches in the air.

“Tommy!”, he shouted angrily, while the younger Miller turned around and simply smiled.

That fucking pissed him off big time.

“Are you fucking out of your mind? How much have you been drinking?!”, Joel wanted to punch his brother so bad, he really had to control himself.

“Not enough”, he babbled.

As Joel approached his brother, ready to fight him if necessary, the man he had pushed away from Tommy tapped his shoulder. When Joel turned around, the dude punched him in the face and then stabbed him in the lower stomach.

Joel froze for a second, his back slightly curved, his brain coming to terms with what just had happened. He looked down while his hand gripped the handle of the knife. He knew not to remove it because it was the blade what prevented him from bleeding out. Then Joel glanced back up at the same guy and, without thinking, he removed the knife from his flesh and sticked it on the man’s shoulder with a growl.

Joel’s wound started to bleed like a pig in a slaughterhouse. Not that he noticed anyway, because hell literally broke loose.

It wasn’t late late, only ten in the evening, but none of the brothers was around when you returned home, which was weird. You could understand if Joel was avoiding you, but Tommy? You frowned as you called for them, shutting the main door behind you. Nothing, no reply at all.

Before you could walk to the living room to see if there was a note or something, someone knocked on the door.

You looked through the peephole. Joyce was standing outside, worry wrinkling her aged face. You opened the door.

“What’s the matter, Joyce?”

“It’s Joel, he’s in the infirmary”, she whispered while placing a soft hand on your forearm.

You just stared at her, bewildered.

“Huh? The where?”, you repeated, while her words started to sink in, your stomach contracting with fear.

“Come with me, kiddo”, Joyce took your hand, guiding you through the apartment building.

The next time you blinked, you were in an outbuilding outside the headquarters. Joyce palmed your hand with hers, in a calming gesture, while she took you to the far end of the shelter. The old lady planted you in front of Joel’s bed, and let go of you with a “take care”.

You stood there for a long minute, still trying to grasp what the hell had happened. He was asleep, his head slightly tilted away from you ― or so you hoped he was. Joel had no shirt on, a bloody bandage covering the right side of his abdomen. You got closer, your heart pounding in your throat.

“He’s fine, it’s just a scratch”, you looked up, befuddled.

Tommy was sitting in a plastic chair on the other side of the bed. He was crouching forwards, his elbow against his knee, head pressing against the palm of his hand. Tommy then smiled, which completely perplexed you.

You were about to reply, but suddenly Joel did instead.

“Fuck off, Tommy. Get your ass somewhere else”, he gritted his teeth.

You hadn’t noticed it yet, but you had been holding your breath, because suddenly you felt a stone being lifted off your chest. You glanced at the younger Miller, who had gotten up with a smile. When he walked past you to go outside, you smelled it. The stench of alcohol made you wrinkle your nose unconsciously.

Joel wrapped his fingers around your wrist to get your attention, so you turned around to look at him, so confused you couldn’t even form a sentence. Joel had already adjusted the pillow on his back so he could be somewhat sat up.

“It’s alright, no need to cry”, he said raising one of his hands to sweep away your tears.

You had not realised you were crying. Giving it a second thought, you probably had been since you left home. You pursed your lips and nodded, quietening your sobs.

“What…?”, you muttered, resting your cheek against his palm before placing a kiss on it.

“Tommy got into a fight in the canteen. He’s so drunk he probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow. A man tried to stab him, and I got in the way ― that’s all, sweetheart. No serious damage, just some stitches”, he tried to calm you.

You wished Tommy was still in the room, because you would have loved to slap the shit out of him for being so irresponsible. What the hell was he thinking? Joel was hurt because of him, and he had just left smiling as if it wasn’t so serious.

“Just leave him be, it’s worthless trying to speak to him in such a state”, something in Joel’s voice told you this wasn’t the first time he had been in this situation.

“Are you sure you’re fine? Joel, please, don’t lie to me―”, you mustered, trying to keep your tears in check, as you caressed his cheek.

He heavily sighed as he scooted over to one end of the tiny bed, leaving enough space for you to join him. You got on the gurney quickly, nestling against him, your arm across his chest in a half embrace. His body heat calmed your nerves a bit, although your hands were still shaking.

“I’m fine, I’m not lying. They won’t let me leave yet though, the nurse said I need to stay here for a couple of hours, until she’s certain the bleeding has stopped”, he explained, his fingertips tracing the shape of your right shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere”, you said with a small voice, your left cheek against his chest.

Joel didn’t fight you on that, so you stayed by his side. His left hand was resting just below your face, his broken watch strapped around his wrist. You bowed your head a bit and kissed his knuckles.

“I’m sorry about this morning, I thought fixing your watch was a nice thing to do, considering it’s been broken since I met you”, you tried to explain yourself, but Joel hushed you by cupping your chin so your eyes would meet his.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I know you meant well. It’s just…”, you heard him gulp down, as if the next words were extremely painful to say out loud. “Sarah fixed this watch for me on my last birthday. It’s been stuck at 2.40 AM since… since we both got shot. One of the bullets broke it”, he recounted in a husked voice, his brown eyes focused on the timeless sphere.

Then it hit you. That was Sarah’s time of death. And, unknowingly, you almost ruined the last memento Joel possessed of his daughter. His most precious treasure. You felt sick to your stomach at the mere idea of being responsible for such a thing. Had you known, you would have never even considered doing what you had planned.

“Gosh, Joel, I’m sorry. I swear to you I didn’t know”, you breathed out desperately.

“I know, baby. I should have told you that instead of getting angry and for that I apologise, but I just couldn’t…”, he clenched his jaw, and you tried to soften his expression with the touch of your fingers.

“Don’t apologise, please”, you kissed his bearded jaw and remained in comfortable silence for the next two hours, until Joel was finally discharged.

The next day you both stayed home. Tommy had tried to apologise when he came back to his senses, but Joel was having none of it. The younger Miller eventually understood that his brother just needed space until he decided to forgive him and gave up in his efforts. You were alone with Joel all day, making sure he was okay and helping him clean the wound. Those stitches were going to leave a nasty scar on him, but it was better than the alternative. It was healing well, no signs of infection, for which you were so pleased ― probably more than him. You almost had to tie him to the bed so he would stop fidgeting around ― Joel was going to get the wound open again if he didn’t remain still for a bit.

You knew Joel was just trying to keep his brain busy because this day marked a year since Sarah was wrongly snatched from his life. That was why he was so taciturn and quiet today, and you let him be for the most part.

When he sat down on the couch in the afternoon, you just nestled against his body, in silence, his arm affectionately enveloping you.

Nighttime came around soon enough, and you both got into bed. Joel spooned you as soon as he laid down behind you, his right arm hugging you, his chest against your back. You soon fell asleep in his warm embrace, feeling protected and content.

Joel woke up a few hours later, one of his recurrent nightmares haunting him. He grumbled in displeasure and got out of bed to change the dressing over the wound. He did so efficiently and returned to bed, slipping under the bedsheets quietly.

Another hour went by, and he was still awake, his eyes on the ceiling.

He rolled onto his left side and saw you sleeping peacefully, in the exact same position you fell asleep. You had not moved one inch. Joel smiled softly as he got closer to you, sliding his arm around your waist and dragging you over to him, looking for your soothing warmth.

Unconsciously, you wiggled your hips to bury your butt in his bulge, and Joel contained a pitiful moan. Your perfectly round ass was innocently embedded in his groin. Now he was sure as hell he was not going to be able to fall back asleep. Irremediably, he pressed his manhood against your buttocks again, looking for that friction.

Joel felt his cock tense up, an erection taking hold. He freed his manhood, slowly pumping himself ― his leaky tip brushing your asscheek until a wet patch adorned your panties. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t resist. You were all curled up, drooling on the pillow, faintly snoring, your knees slightly bent. He cut the distance between you and shoved his dick in your thigh gap, his shaft rubbing against your pussy covered by your underwear.

Sweat gathered on his brow as he rocked his pelvis back and forth, your thighs sweetly compressing his cock ― the tip feeling cold when it overhung on the other side. Joel kissed your shoulder, his hand gently placed on your hip to steady himself.

“C’mon, baby, wake up”, he husked near your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe.

You hummed, half awake. You felt your body being rocked, your eyes fluttering open and looking downwards. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Joel’s glans sticking out through your thigh nook, then disappearing from sight to reappear again. You smiled pleasantly, shutting your eyes, as you felt your needy cunt melt for him. You pursed your lips with delight.

“Can I have my birthday present again, sweetheart?”, he whispered in a constrained tone.

You nodded, scatterbrained.

You were drenching your underwear so bad, there was a visible damp, darken spot right in the middle. Joel pulled back from in between your legs and pushed the bridge of your panties to one side. He lodged his cock in between your puffy lips, sliding it through your entire slit a couple of times to douse himself with your fluids.

“You’re soaking wet, baby”, he muttered as you let out a soft moan when Joel pressed his tip against your dripping hole, your flesh parting as the Red Sea.

Then Joel slowly pushed his hard cock in inch by inch down to his balls. His right arm hugged you, poising you in place and sneaking his hand under your pyjama top to hold one of your full breasts. He stilled for a second, feeling your cunt sheathing him like a warm glove. He thrusted once, twice, thrice. You lost count after that, Joel plunging into you from behind, gaining erratic speed. You grasped the bedsheet in your fist, your spit pooling on the pillowcase.

You placed a hand on your mound and a few seconds later, you slipped it under your panties. With the palm against your clit to cause some grinding, you could feel Joel coming in and out of you in between your index and middle fingers. Your gushing cunt started palpitating around his slick cock, your inner walls squeezing him hard as you came, mewling like a kitten in heat.

Joel quickly followed you, his cum filling you up, breathing roughly behind you. You tilted your head towards your right to look at him over your shoulder. He kissed you, first gently, then more demanding, while his dick was still throbbing with the last wave of his release. Joel pinched your nipple before freeing your mouth.

“There you go, sweetheart, so you don’t forget who you and your tight pussy belong to”, he groaned as he pulled out of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you said gratefully.

Joel put your underwear back in place and pressed the palm of his hand against your wet panties, his cum trickling out with yours and swamping the piece of clothing even more, saturating it, almost as if you had pissed yourself.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’”, he kissed the nape of your neck, his hand still lodged in your thigh gap, hard pressed against your satisfied, clothed pussy. You loved how possessive he was of you, literally claiming your cunt for himself at every chance he got.

With a pleased sigh, you tucked your hands under your head and fell back asleep within seconds.

The earth was round again.

[magicvicky1]

Translation: “But yes, I myself had to amputate my leg after the accident and I survived on horrible chewing gum for more than 10 years on the Moon. Amazing, don't you think?”

The one and only Della Duck! :0 I still remember the earlier days of the fandom when everyone theorized about what happened to her until the The Last Crash of the Sun Chaser came out, and the general excitement that there was for her to come back…It brings me some nostalgic feelings lol After rewatching the show, I started to appreciate her character a lot more; she had a pretty fun personality and I really liked that she got to be a flawed character that still had to learn a lot about responsibilities as a mother. If anything, I think that she’s one of the most memorable parts of the show and I hope that with her inclusion on Dt17, it encourages more writers to use her in more recent comics :D…Maybe it did but idk, most of the comics I’ve read as of now we’re the old ones xdd

I actually wanted to included Donald on the drawing but I just couldn’t figure a pose for him that convinced me :,)

[zumazozuma]

Hey. FMA Fandom. I freaking did it ok.

Lan Fan's *FULL* automail design from the manga? Yeah. It now finally exists.

Please accept this humble offering as fanon:

NOW EVERYONE DRAW HER!!!

ARAKAWA I HOPE YOU'RE PROUD!!!!!!!

Edit: I thought I'd leave some manga panels to point out a few things I don't have the skills to successfully translate in this ref sheet!

Explanations under the cut!

The armor plates on the shoulder are bigger than what I drew (I tried to put them at an angle but they just look smaller lol) I recommend just enlarging the top plate from the middle! It's supposed to hide most of the upper arm.

If you draw her in full uniform, she of course has bandages and that cool spiky leather strand around her wrist. The spiky knuckles appear to be a separate accessory as well.

The automail isn't all open right on top of the forearm, but on its side, as you'll see in the manga panels. I should've drawn the hand seen from the side but I wanted to show the screw on top of it beheheh.

The thought process behind Lan Fan's automail appears to focus on being as light as possible so that she can keep fighting with speed. Compared to Ed's very solid and armored automail to be as enduring as possible, Lan Fan's trades durability for lightness!

The mechanism for the hidden blade is basically just rings inside the fingers, to which are attached wires that are tethered close to a tiny hook. My thought process behind this is that we most likely want to avoid accidentally unsheathing the blade, so LF has to literally reach for it! It's a safety measure, but I also like that it makes her do a hand move kinda similar to Scar's whenever he's about to use his alchemy/alkahestry destruction for an attack!

For the port, have fun with it! I tried my best to give it an interesting look but I struggled with giving it a 3D metal feel. I focused more instead on where the support would be since the port can't be drilled on most of the chest. Drilled on the back it is!

Finally, if you notice the tiny lock I inserted in the simplified design, no it's not made to render the arm immovable; rather it's just there to secure the automail in the port. You know, during the process to connect the nerves. You attach the little wires, screw the bolts, and lock it all in neatly!

With this, I hope everyone will have fun drawing Lan Fan's full automail! It may not be canon, but it's at least better than nothing! So many art pieces just hide her automail because of that lack of reference, so I hope I helped change that!

(Note: the scars I gave LF on her right shoulder and left side aren't canon either. I saw an art piece way back when and somehow convinced myself that I just had never noticed in the show lol. But you can't tell me the bodyguard to a prince that canonically survived a bunch of assassination attempts wouldn't have a scar or two!!)

NOW DRAW YOUR HEARTS AWAY!!!

[xf-cases-solved]

S2E2: The Host 😔

Case: In what is an episode I have purposefully avoided rewatching for at least a decade—because it is DISGUSTING—we find ourselves off the coast of New Jersey, bc of course this hellscape of an episode takes place in fucking New Jersey. A Russian kid on a ship gets pulled into a septic tank (ew) by A Creature, and his body is discovered in a sewer (ew) a few days later. Skinner gives this case to Mulder, and Mulder is pissed about it, for which I don't blame him for a second bc it is, quite literally, shit work. (This does, however, lead to a very funny confrontation where Mulder throws a tantrum at Skinner, only to then discover he's currently in a meeting. I did lol at that, I'll admit.) 

Anyway, Mulder reluctantly continues with the case, secretly recruiting Scully on the side to do some autopsy(!!) work and to pick her brain for science, even though the bosses said they aren't allowed to sit next to each other in class anymore. The episode just gets worse and worse and fucking worse from there, when Scully discovers a flukeworm (ew) in the dead kid's body. More evidence continues to compile, soon making it clear that what they're dealing with is something much larger and much grosser than they could have ever anticipated. 

People keep walking around and getting covered in sewer water, making me want to scrub myself so clean all the skin comes off my body; a man coughs up a worm and it is Horrible; Deep Throat is gone, but it looks like he might have a successor (!!!); Mulder and Scully have a friend in the FBI, I wonder who it could be 🤔 (hint: he's bald); and Mulder briefly considers quitting, but somehow THIS fucking episode is the one that convinces him to stay. (Like, I get it, learning he has an ally in Skinner is all well and good or whatever, I GET IT, okay? But look. If my boss was claiming to be my ally and then forced me to chase after a giant man-eating sewer worm—requiring me to BE in the literal sewer in the process btw—I would quietly set my badge and gun down on my boss's desk, walk out the building, and get on the next flight to New Zealand. Fuuuuuuck that, and fuuuuuuck this episode.)

Does someone die in the cold open: Yes, and it is the worst way any person could possibly die.

Does Mulder present a slideshow: He no longer has anyone to present slideshows to. 😔

Does the evidence survive the investigation: If it did, they should fucking burn it.

Whodunit: ☹️ worm man ☹️

Convictions: Chris Carter, for the crime of writing this and then making it exist in the world where I had to watch it with my eyeballs and process its contents with my brain.

Did they solve it: Yes, I suppose they did, in the sense that they figured out what killed that guy, and had a semi-reasonable explanation for how the horrible monster worm was able to come to be. Whether or not the horrible monster worm is still out there being horrid and monstrous? Well, that part remains an X-File.

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Bleach. Pour it in your eyes and also over your whole entire body and forget any of this ever happened.

Oh, and also sponsored by this funny text I accidentally sent my sister:

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 13 (first solve of the season. unfortunate that it had to be this)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me": 6 (told you it starts to go up rly fast)

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 6

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 8 

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 8

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 13 (nothing overt, but they did have a nice conversation together, and mulder said something to the effect of being able to work with scully was the only reason he could think to stay at the fbi at this point)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 4 (and there was a worm in the body ☹️)

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 16 (i was too grossed out watching this to properly appreciate it, but X has entered the chat!!!!! my favorite informant!!! i will get into more detail as to why as we make our way through the season, but eep!) 

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Times Someone Correctly Guesses a Password: 3 

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 3 (you know what? i'm upping this stat. why did he go to the sewer in a suit???)

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 3 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 3

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 2

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 8

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 1

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 1

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 (but i can hear his slow approach...)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 9½ (of COURSE it's new jersey) 

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 5 (unfortunately i paid attention to the whole thing ☹️)

[youkaiyume]

Hello, it's been a while since I did a rant. But WARNING for gross medical things:

SO it turns out my old nemesis the ovarian cysts have plagued me again. I found out about three weeks ago when a weird pain wouldn't leave my pelvis and went to urgent care and they suggested a CT scan. ONLY! for my insurance to deny me cuz they think I needed more probable cause for one so my doctor just recommended I go to the ER (which ironically is way more expensive for insurance to pay for than a simple CT scan but they did it to themselves lol).

Turns out I have cysts on BOTH of my ovaries FUN. But the left one is very concerningly big and probably needs to be removed but I can only do so by getting an approval of an OBGYN. So after finding one and waiting for my blood tests to come back so she can determine if she can surgically remove it--

YESTERDAY I had a SUDDEN AND SEVERE pain that hit me. I was at a solid 10 on that pain scale and vomiting and sweating so I drove myself to the ER again for the second time in two weeks. Frustratingly, the MALE doctor came back and was just like "well it looks like while we were doing your ultrasound you weren't consistently experiencing pain" which I was ready to bite his head off because let me tell you. While I was laying stretched out letting them do the ultrasound I was in the worst pain the ENTIRE time. And it was not a short ultrasound. It lasted over 20 mins and even after they asked me if I could survive sitting through the vaginal ultrasound after which would be another 25 mins. And those are painful just for the stick poking around in your yoohoo alone. I begged for pain relievers and when I described it they were like "oh that's labor level pains"

SO Mr. I don't have a Uterus doctor, DON'T TELL ME that your machine says I wasn't in pain. He even hit me with a "well I don't know what your pain tolerance is" as if to minimize or make me feel like I was overblowing what I was feeling. Like, fuck that guy. But because technically the imaging showed that the cysts haven't ruptured or caused my ovaries to twist it was considered "non emergent" and so the just gave me painkillers and then sent me home and reiterated that the only way I could get it removed at this point was to beg my OBGYN and convince her it was an emergency. In the meantime it was "oh you'll have to live with LABOR LIKE PAINS 24/7 until they let you have surgery." In the meantime they said I should only return to the ER after I've took all my pain meds and my pain doesn't improve OR if something worse happens. like a rupture.

WHICH btw are the exact same symptoms I have today so I was like how will I know cuz I can't imagine a worse pain than this one to which they were like "shrug"

I was in tears. Oh but it gets EVEN BETTER. Called my OBGYN this morning and she said my blood tests came back and that unfortunately they detected higher than usual levels of cancer markers in the cyst so that means she can't surgically remove them for me, she has to foist me to an Oncologist so THEY can remove it. She tries to say it doesn't necessarily MEAN cancer but hnnnnnggg that does not help with my anxiety at the moment.

Now calling the Oncologist to make an appointment today was a whole ordeal itself cuz their system kept going to voicemail so I had to call all the departments until they finally let me through but I had to run back to the hospital to try to get my Ultrasound discs for them. But even then they were like "your appointment isn't until next Wednesday" because THATS when the doctor meanders into work. So I'm like OH so like, in the meantime what if something happens??? And they're like well you gotta call back your OBGYN to see if you have other options. Which turns out she is also out. Until Tuesday. So I'm like. Guess I'll die then!

I don't even want kids!!! These ovaries have caused me nothing but trouble!!! Please rip them from my body!!

[thelonelysoulhome]

Yashiro hypersexuality and trauma response.

(Part 2)

(If you did not read part 1 go read it first otherwise you will feel a little lost lol)

Let's get into the heart of the subject;

Yashiro's hypersexuality:

Hypersexuality, also known as compulsive sexual behavior or sexual addiction, is a state where an individual experiences an intense preoccupation with sexual thoughts, feelings, or behaviors that may feel out of their control. It involves an excessive and uncontrollable urge for sexual gratification, often leading to detrimental consequences in various areas of life, including relationships, work, and overall well-being.

Hypersexuality after assault, commonly referred to as hypersexual trauma, represents a complex psychological response to the experience of sexual assault or trauma. Individuals who have endured sexual violence or other types of trauma may exhibit compulsive and excessive sexual behaviors as a means of coping with emotional distress.

Trauma, especially in the context of sexual abuse, can significantly impact one’s sexual desire and behavior. The biological mechanism behind this is linked to the body’s stress response. During a traumatic experience, the body releases stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline, which can affect the normal functioning of the brain’s pleasure and reward system. This alteration can lead to an increased drive to seek pleasure, including sexual gratification, as a way to cope with the emotional distress caused by the trauma

Engaging in hypersexual behavior can serve as a way to temporarily numb emotional pain and distress, allowing individuals to escape from the overwhelming feelings associated with the traumatic experience.

Certain demographics are more prone to experiencing hypersexuality as a result of trauma. These groups include:

Survivors of childhood sexual abuse often struggle with unresolved trauma and the associated emotional distress that can manifest as hypersexual behavior.

Individuals with a history of complex trauma, such as repeated or prolonged exposure to traumatic events can lead to heightened vulnerability to developing maladaptive coping mechanisms, including hypersexuality.

Those with a history of insecure attachment styles, as the lack of secure emotional bonds can contribute to difficulties in forming healthy relationships, making some individuals more susceptible to seeking emotional fulfillment through hypersexual behavior as a substitute for genuine intimacy.

Again Y check all the boxes.

Yashiro is using violent sex as a form of self harm:

Violent sex for Y is a form of self harm, coping mechanism and self deffense mechanism.

He is seeking unsafe sexual practice to calm himself down to numb he's feeling so the pain he feel physically cover's the one he feels inside.

Here a perfect example:

"Anyone will do. Just fill me up.."

Y is in distress to see he's first love with an another man (that he put together btw..something that he would be incapable to do with doumeki ) so he seek sex as a relief, to forget, again, the psychological pain.

he is harming himself cause he's resilied that this is the only thing he deserve, him, that don't deserve any love or care.

Y never really lived this room, the scars could never heal cause they were constantly reopened

Constantly, to a point were he was obligated to convince himself that it was nobody's fault, this is how Y finish by thinking and accepting that he enjoy the pain.

If he enjoy the pain he would not get pregnant, his mom would not be mad and if he accept all of this than what's happening to him is not that bad anymore, if he make it part of his identity than it's not a trauma anymore it's not that big of a deal and that how he survived.

That how he finish by building his masochist lusfull cat persona: I love sex and pain and I don't give a fuck about myself so no one can hurt me I'm not vulnerable anymore, if It's me that is seeking it now .

He convinced himself that if it's not painfull he can feel anything but we know it's not true and that just the way he built his facade, his mask he been wearing all those years to survive, Y is a really great actor and all his life he hided his true feeling away, he was so good at hiding it that he even convinced himself (not even mentioning that he may be suffering from post traumatic memory loss).

Yashiro never had a safe place, so he built a "safe place" in the unsafe,

he just tried his best to stay on the surface, just enough to not drown completly.

In the end he is still this powerless child that being abused by the world.

Thank you for reading till the end .See you soon!

[transmutationisms]

trying to work out some thoughts on anorexia/restrictive eating disorders as inherently “mental illnesses” so forgive me for doing that in your inbox lol. but as someone who starved myself for a while as a teenager in order to fit into the ideal of thinness i reallyyyy hate when people call anorexia/bulimia a mental illness. what i was doing was very reasonable — i was trying to get thin, fast, so people would think of me as pretty/desirable, and starving myself was a way to do that. i feel like terming restrictive eating disorders as mental illnesses in & of themselves makes them seem like, unreasonable? or like you’re biologically predisposed to starve yrself? i guess i just want to know if you have any thoughts on the terming of “anorexia” or “bulimia” as mental illnesses (sorry for the vagueness of this question)

i have thoughts lol

in general i don't actually get a lot of mileage out of the concept of 'mental illness', tbh. there are lots of different things going on here—sometimes these labels are used to pathologise behaviours and experiences that are simply normal variations in human populations (& are often experienced as impairments due to the context of a social and economic environment designed to exclude them). sometimes they're just pathologising certain portions of the population, and are a tool for how marginalisation occurs, like 'drapetomania' or 'hysteria' or indeed the racialised nature of 'schizophrenia' diagnoses. sometimes what we call 'mental illness' is what i would argue is a very reasonable response to fucked up circumstances, like what you're talking about or indeed the inherently stressful and traumatising experience of, like, surviving capitalism. you also have to keep in mind that the way the pharmaceutical industry and the psychiatric establishment work in tandem means that some diagnostic labels come into existence after a drug is discovered/manufactured, and needs an insurance billing code in order to start making money.

on top of all this, as a philosophical point, 'illness' or 'disease' in medicine has some specific meanings (contested & varied over time/place, obviously) and i'm not actually convinced that affective distress is best explained or ameliorated by this framework. the argument that affective distress is a disease state has mostly been very useful for people who are invested in claiming medico-scientific authority and prestige for clinical and academic psychiatry. interestingly ofc, they have never fully succeeded in doing this because there are no biomarkers for psychiatric diagnoses, that's not how these diagnoses are made, and it's certainly not how they're treated (despite outright lies like the 'chemical imbalance' myth still being pushed on many patients).

when it comes to 'eating disorders' specifically, one thing to keep in mind up front is that although all eating disorders are restrictive in origin, both the responses to and causes of that restriction vary widely. the 'classic' story here since about the mid-20th century has been a (white, upper-class) girl who wants to be thin and starves herself in pursuit of beauty / social acceptance; depending on how she responds to this attempted restriction, you might see further restriction, binge-type behaviour, binge-purge behaviour, &c. but this is really only one eating disorder 'story'. as i've said before, food / energy restriction can start for a million different reasons, including lack of access to sufficient food, sensory aversions, other illnesses, over-exercise, &c. and people's mental and physical responses also vary a lot. i've probably never met a disordered eater who had NO thoughts on thinness as the beauty standard and beauty as currency—because of the social context we live in, these ideas will usually at some point become wrapped up in the food restriction, and are often major drivers of the sort of guilt response that tends to perpetuate eg a binge-restrict cycle. but this isn't to say that the desire for thinness is every disordered eater's sole or even primary psychological experience.

since my own experience has always been very similar to yours, though, i can speak to that a little. i agree with you fully in how i narrativise my own self-starvation, lmao. i don't think it's ever been some kind of biological predisposition with me, or a weird or aberrant or even pathological response to my circumstances. i actually think, given the social and familial context i grew up in, starving myself is one of the more logical and normal things i've ever engaged in. it's socially rewarded (both the resultant weight loss and the hypervigilant food / body behaviours in themselves) and emotionally numbing in a way that makes literally everything else 1 billion times easier to manage.

again, there's complexity here when talking about 'eating disorders' more broadly; people receive many different messages about food and body size, and respond to them differently as well. (this is a tricky thing with any diagnosis that's given on the basis of behaviours / symptoms—ie all psychiatric diagnoses—the label is ontologically incapable of differentiating between different causes for, and experiences of, what may be externally the same behaviours.) and it's also true that eating disorders involve a biological element in the sense that restrictive food intake (or the threat of restrictive food intake, like guilting yourself for eating something you perceive as unhealthy / fattening / &c) triggers a whole complicated physical response because, yknow, humans need to eat lol. but my point stands, i think: the psychiatric discourse of 'eating disorders' is still very wilfully decontextualising them, because otherwise it would have to become a broader social justice conversation about things like poverty and weight stigma. that's not something that psychiatry is disciplinarily equipped to do!

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

hi :) binge read your de fic that you have posted on ao3 last night and really enjoyed all of it! excited to see any updates. was wondering if you have any rec for other fic youve read and enjoyed-- i am not god's bravest soldier and do not enjoy trudging through tags and was wondering if you had read anything yourself that you really enjoyed lolol

Hey, thanks so much!!! Sorry it's taken a couple days to answer this, I'm poor as shit and have two jobs now wah... capitilism...

I'm working on the next 46' chapter, It's about 70% complete and I generally let it sit for an evening once it's done then re-read it the next day to catch the vast majority of mistakes (I edit everything myself) so I'd say expect that in the coming days.

I have some thoughts! I... Have never been asked for fic recs before so I'm gonna list a bunch in no particular order that I enjoyed, and reasons why. I will note that I tend to enjoy meaty plot-based works over fluff, so that's what I'll be recommending. Anyway!

Paddling Out (THE REPEATER CORPSE CONUNDRUM) - @transhitman - So this is the first DE fic I read and it set the bar pretty fucking high. YOU'VE GOT: a very cool and insular setting (don't get me wrong I like fics where they travel around Revachol too, but there's something to be said for building a set and living in it for a while) YOU'VE GOT: extremely harrowing tension and pale-fuckery YOU'VE GOT: some genuinely beautiful, heartfelt moments (I don't want to spoil anything but "people don't need your permission to care about you" kinda undid me) YOU'VE ALSO GOT: Amazing art?! Always a bonus, I wish I could draw people lol

Have You Heard The News That You're Dead? - Wizardlover - Time Loop shenanigans hell yeah! Basic premise: Kim is *unable* to save Harry's life after he's shot at the tribunal, each time he dies he Reawakens in Martinaise on the first day and desperately has to try and find a way to either prevent the Tribunal entirely, or survive it. I think the major draw to this one is how well it's characterised and how well that lends to the major source of tension: trying to convince THE WORLD'S BIGGEST SKEPTIC that you *a man he 'has only just met'* is actually stuck in a time loop. Juicy shit.

The Case Of The Man Who Two-Thirds Wasn't There - @glisteningceruleaneyes - We got another case fic here, gang. This is one of those "they travel around Revachol" numbers I previously mentioned. A lot to love about this fic; the minor OCs are all loveable (or at least well-written, looking at you Mr. Bigot-All-Rounder), the elements of writing in the game's style (particularly use of Harry's 'to do' list that you find in the ledger, you don't see that as often!) are all fantastic. Also without spoiling too much I'm a sucker for hurt/ comfort :) I like when bad things happen to our specialist guy :) ALSO! alternating chapters, Kim vs Harry's perspectives contrast REALLY well! Just a super enjoyable read. - On that note I also wanna include a special mention: there's a podfic for this one and since I mentioned my two jobs, I've been listening to audiobooks at work (I'm a cleaner. It's very boring) and that was a fun change of pace!

The Emergent Causeway - hal_incandenza - Now you KNOW this one is good because it's the only *unfinished* fic I'm recommending. Again, We've got art! We've got a brand new (non-Revachol!) setting that still feels excellently Elysium! We got that excellent balance of humour and misery from the get go! EXCELLENT murder mystery so far, I am intrigued AND also there's a fucking puppy. Hell yeah. This one's from Kim's perspective and does a really good job of it, nothing like a man being begrudgingly sent on holiday and being somewhat relieved to have a corpse to deal with.

A Spilled Kaleidoscope - @spilledkaleidoscope - I'm actually recommending a series here. Real definition of "came for the art, stayed for the writing" I mostly have a soft spot because I got to watch a few "haha, what if-?" musing text posts become a series of written chapters and INCREDIBLE DRAWINGS HOLY SHIT. Like, you really just draw hands for fun, huh? This person made a pact with some sort of devil beasts to draw hands very good, at the bare minimum we can read their fiction.

Nothing To Lose But Our Chains - Lepak - I almost forgot this one and I honestly can't believe it because this is one of these ones that you need a cigarette afterwards. Good fucking god. This is probably the best fic I've ever read in terms of not shying away from the heavy themes that make Disco Elysium such a beautiful, moving game. It tackles a racism in many forms, particularly how people like Kim (in working for the RCM) and immigration laws do their part in upholding racist systems, despite the way it hurts him too. Of course, it's also excellently written with tense scenes and some real funny moments. A real good'un here.

The Catacomb Killer - SupposedToBeWriting - Give Harry more memory loss. Make him convinced he killed a kid. Make *Kim* convinced he killed a kid... Then the plot thickens. I won't lie I can't remember fuck all about this one because I was mostly drunk when I read it, but if it was good enough that I kept reading instead of smoking a spliff or something then it must have been excellent... I will re-read it when I have the time, lmao.

MURDER ON THE AIRWAVES - @randomisedmongoose - I'm just a really big fan of murder mysteries and gore. You show me somebody with brain matter pouring from their earholes and I'm like "yum yum, more of that please." I am a sucker for curious methods of murder and this one's good for that. Lots of trekking back and forth like in the game again. More ACAB - always good.

I did not mean to include this many...........................

Oh well. Here's my list, there are plenty of others I've enjoyed but these are just the ones that came to mind! Thanks again for reading my fic! Always makes me happy when people let me know they enjoy my writing :3

[fanofstuff01]

I know you've read the last chapter of head like a hole

I think this fic gonna give me depression TT

IMAGINE ITS ENDING LIKE THIS

I HOPE NOT BUT I WANT ADAM TO BE FREE

LOOK. DON'T MAKE ME THINK IT ENDING LIKE THIS BECAUSE I WILL CRY. THE CREATOR JUST FUCKING CAN'T.

I have a theory that I will clung onto for dear life until tomorrow.

I'm going to get into spoilers so uh

I think, since Lucifer bound his soul to Adam, his soul will be able to keep itself together AT LEAST a little since a part of it is connected to someone else, THEN either Roo (If she's not perma gone) is going to pull Adam's soul pieces back via that, and will try to re-put the curse since she still has the Eve pieces, OR his soul will stitch itself back together because it has the ground to do so.

I know that doesn't sound very convincing but I truly believe Adam will go to somewhere similar to Roo and I think his contract with Lucifer is going to be used in a way. Like, you know how Roo stitched Adam back together from what's left of Eve's soul, so maaybe since Lucifer's soul is his..?

Whatev. All I want is for it to not end like this and I know, mostly hope it won't.

Because, there are details and author's replies to some comments hinting at a continuation, and are definitely not the things I say to myself to avoid thinking he's gone for good:

-Details I picked up on-

1: The chapter description has no sense of finality, just gives us casual info about the chapter, nor was the chapter marked as the ending. I swear that author is straight up cruel if their tomorrow update is just something like "Oh yeah he died like that and Lucifer grieved a bit then returned to normal the end lol".

2: Roo says, she found a space of nothingness, and Adam says a profound nothing waited for him at the end.

3: They didn't make a suicide warning at the beginning. Just self harm.

-Comments (Which I take as much more accurate)

-I pulled a sneaky on you. You'll be thanking me for not leaving you on tomorrow's cliffhanger for a full week.

-There is going to be an emotional reckoning for sure. Everyone's going to have some serious shit to deal with after all's said and done. (I'm not sure about this one but whatev)

-I'll give you all some consensual Adamsapple smut later. If everyone survives this, that is.

-

LOOK I have so much for this fic that I can talk about it for hours. So I'm stopping here lol.

Also I have to say this somewhere, but this would be a marvelous idea for an actual Adam spinoff. I'm dead serious.

[circular-bircular]

hello! im currently questioning whether I am disordered or not. I was wondering if you would be willing to share your experiences if you're comfortable or maybe share some good resources about what its like being disordered because im really lost rn. this blog is great btw! take care of yourself <3

Hey there! Glad you enjoy my blog, sorry it took a bit to get to this. This is the first night in like a month that I have any free time whatsoever (and that's cause I'm putting off grades, lol...)

I hope you don't mind a bulletpointer on this one!

Disordered experiences...

Firstly, I cannot overstate how fucking everything about me is impacted by trauma. Physical health? I get sick more often because my body has fought as hard as it has to survive -- it's an actual thing that traumatized people get physically sick more often. Mental health? Shit. Depression's comorbid, anxiety is comorbid, and I've even seen discussions about the connections between autism and DID, and those two do not mix well in me. All of my everything is constantly fucked.

I cannot goddamn sleep. Sleep is a goddamn hellscape. I run from somewhere between 2 to 6 hours of sleep most nights, and have to take plenty of naps just to survive. That makes it next to impossible some days to get the energy I need, or if I did get enough nappies, to get the free-time I need.

In terms of my actual DID... Amnesia is the biggest one. I constantly have gaps. I have to write every single thing down. I have plenty of accomodations, sure! But even those fail from time to time, and then it's just a spiral. Like, today at work, I had a surprise meeting I did not write down, because I just forgot to. I forgot about the meeting until 10 minutes prior, when I got an alert in my email about it. This meant I skipped lunch, and had to try and focus without having eaten since 9am. This made my day harder, which led to...

Dissociation!!! God fuck. It's so hard to focus sometimes. I am so spaced out. Today was one of those days where I had to cling to my phone for survival and grounding. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it's better to be writing posts on tumblr during class than forgetting I'm in class at all. And none of the kids snitch on me -- just get a little pissy if I don't call on them quickly enough.

Trauma flashbacks. Ough. If I get stuck in one, goodbye ability to think for awhile. It's been happening more and more frequently at work lately, so there goes my 30 minute lunch spent in the bathroom forgetting I exist because I feel like I'm going to my parents house after school.

That ties into paranoia. I have to convince myself more often than not that, when I get home, my abusers won't be there. I'm 26 and haven't directly lived with them in 3 years, and I cut them off close to a year ago. I still wake up thinking they're breaking in.

That's about all I can think off quick, off the top of my head. Basically... owie owie my brain is a big ol bruise.

[animeomegas]

Hi Amy! How are you doing? I hope you're taking care of yourself! Just wanna check in on you and also ask you a few things. What are your thoughts on all the omegas cooking skills?

I think Neji is an amazing cook. 10/10 but has expensive taste. He wants the finest ingredients and it's not up for debate. Wakes up extra early to head to the market so he can spend hours finding the best products. His body is a temple after all!

We all know Bakugou is canonically a good cook and he could survive a day in Hells kitchen with Gordon Ramsay. He'll make you think cooking is a chore and it annoys him but the way he expertly cuts up his ingredients and flipping pots and pans like a whirlwind and just cooking up a storm will convince you otherwise.

Kiba is great at cooking also! When you have hoards of children you're constantly in the kitchen and he loves nothing more than being a good oma. Also thinks cooking for his alpha is hot because of that one saying about cooking being the way to a person's heart.

Haku! Haku! A god in the kitchen. Every meal will make you transcend through time and space. Will condition you to never want to eat anywhere else. Has a luscious garden that he tends to everyday because he wants to make very hearty meals and it's just his way of expressing his love for his family 🥺

There's more because I feel like most of the omegas are just built with the need to feed and nourish their alphas. You can add more if you want

Hey! I'm doing well, thank you! I promised myself that I'd go a month without skipping class and I'm halfway to the goal! Whoo!

Neji:

You're right, Neji is a really, really good cook when he wants to be.

That being said, he almost only cooks simple, traditional dishes, and he doesn't feel comfortable straying from that often.

He can make 100 variants of fish, rice and veg in the tastiest dishes ever.

But he doesn't stray far from that formula.

He's also a massive tea and wine snob, just saying.

You are also right that he buys very good quality ingredients. Neji has expensive taste.

Bakugou:

Yes, Bakugou is a canonically good cook, and I love that about him.

I don't think he'd make it through Hell's Kitchen though, he's too volatile to go against Gordon Ramsay lol.

I stand by the idea that one of Bakugou's primary ways of showing love is cooking for them.

He will only cook for an alpha if he's pretty sure that they're long term. It means a lot to him.

Unlike Neji though, Bakugou loves learning new recipes and being pretty adventurous. He's not picky and he cooks all kinds of stuff.

He will huff if the person he's cooking for isn't a fan of spicy food, but he will still make a separate batch, one spicy and one mild.

I don't think he's a massive fan of making desserts though, he much prefers savoury cooking.

Kiba:

You are right about Kiba, 100%. He doesn't have a passion for cooking, but he has a passion for feeding his family and providing for his pups. He gets a lot of joy and fulfilment from that.

I think Kiba's chosen cooking style is a lot of one pot dishes, like stews that he can leave to simmer for hours, or stir frys that he can make in 20 minutes.

He doesn't have time to tend to the food to make dishes like Neji or Bakugou, he needs to anticipate that he'll be interrupted constantly. So a slow cooked stew and rice from a rice cooker is ideal for him. Easy, no need for much attention, and simple to cook in massive portions for all his gremlins.

Haku:

Haku is amazing at cooking!!

He's also the only one on this list that I think has a passion for baking as well.

Haku is a natural at combining flavours and he's got such an interesting and well-developed palate.

He combines new flavours together all the time, and he loves creating his own recipes. I like to imagine that his alpha prompted him to make a cookbook to pass down his recipes.

Haku is also the only one on this list to grow the majority of his own produce, which he swears makes everything taste better. He probably hunts and fishes for meat/fish too, considering how long he spent doing that as a missing nin, he's really good at it.

Haku's food changes a lot depending on the season and what kind of plants/meat is available.

I love him, so I'm going to stop before I get carried away haha.

I'm happy to share my thoughts on some other boys, good cooks or less good haha, just ask <3 Thank you for sending me your thoughts anon, I really appreciate it and they were so accurate hehe

[theneighborhoodwatch]

starflower (Julie and Sally) ? They’re one of my favorites !! 🌸 ☀️

(send me a character/ship to hear my thoughts)

when or if I started shipping it: in a universe two doors down from this one i could see myself getting into it - but alas, we do not live in that universe.

my thoughts: it's certainly cute! i just wish i had more thoughts about it than that :,D a slightly saltier part of me grumbles that the only reason this ship is so popular is bc sally and julie are the only two femme-presenting characters who are Relatively humanoid in terms of design and poppy gets brushed off bc she's "supposed to be the mom friend" even though sally interacts with her Just as often if not even moreso -- but i would be a fool to truly turn against another yuri soldier. TL;DR: i think starflower shippers should be allowed to do whatever they want forever, but alas, my enthusiasm lies elsewhere for now.

What makes me happy about them: despite what i said in the last paragraph, i do think this ship comes the closest to capturing a very specific euphoric experience that a lot of sapphics i know (myself included) experienced when they were like 10-12: roleplaying a super intense dramatic storyline with your friend who you kinda had a crush on using OCs that you made up that same day. i do think this pairing in particular would make for a KILLER princess bride au. "oh because julie and buttercup are both iconic blondes-" no, no. listen. sally is buttercup. julie is the goofier westley who gets a butchy makeover when she comes back as the dread pirate roberts. you can't change my mind.

What makes me sad about them: the fact that they're so sillygoofy now makes me SCAREDDDDD for how things will fare between them when shit gets real. i feel like i've said that for every ship but like, every pairing i've gotten so far has a specific Dynamic that is just as threatened by this as any other, and sally and julie's dynamic in particular is "boke and boke-who's-convinced-that-she's-a-tsukkomi." can such an iconic comedic duo survive such trials? only time will tell....

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: not much! fics that center around this pairing tend to be pretty well-written, i just don't have much thoughts on the ship itself.

Things I look for in fanfic: see above.

My kinks: ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: i mean, you know i'm a popstar gal right now. as for julie... hmm.... i've read some pretty cute julie/howdy fic, but i don't know if i'd say that means i Ship them? like starflower, i think it's just a ship that attracts skilled writers lol.

My happily ever after for them: i will leave this to someone more invested in the ship than myself to write.

[that-ineffable-devil]

I really like your post about what Good Omens mean in terms of representing queer middle aged people. Seeing that representation means a lot to me too as a twenty year old.

Seeing queer people in their 50s shows me a future I have trouble imagining for myself.

It shows me people my parents age who I'm used to getting begrudging acceptance or rejection from at best, and they're like me. Part of my community.

It showed me straight older allies who accept us unconditionally and it showed me that this isn't a gen z thing or a phase, it's a human thing.

It's part of humanity.

I can't even write down all the things it means.

I'm so glad my words resonated with you (and many others, apparently!!), and it has been so wonderful seeing the outpouring of love and support for the same sentiment and the representation in Good Omens. 🖤

Like you, I've always had trouble envisioning a future for myself--in fact, I was so convinced I wouldn't survive to 18 that I had made no plans for life after high school! Big mistake lol. But when I was a kid growing up in a tiny one-stoplight-town in the southern U.S., there weren't any people like me in my life. Or even in media, really, except as a joke. I was so different from everything and everyone I knew that I couldn't imagine life beyond the boundaries of that place.

I can only wonder how differently things may have turned out if I'd had something like Good Omens--representation that normalizes instead of exploits or vilifies.

And you're absolutely right that seeing older cis and straight allies fully and genuinely supporting our community is so, so important. Maybe just as important as seeing older queers out living their best lives, because it shows that not only can we survive and be happy, but we don't have to do it alone or in isolation from the rest of the world.

That's one of the scariest things, I think, especially if you grow up in a country or even just a city or state that is openly hostile towards people like us. It's not just the fear of violence, but the fear that nobody will step in to help you or offer you support when you need it. Because sometimes finding community in real life is much harder than it is online. And when cisgender heterosexual folks see their peers and heroes supporting our community, we can only hope it inspires them to be allies, too. 🖤

[shadowmaat]

Since no one's sending me prompts I guess I'll do it myself. lol

Endless- Maul, Old Guard AU

Maul is killed on Naboo and wakes up whole and alive. Most of the prequels stuff stays the same, but Maul is, for a while, convinced he's some kind of god. When he meets up with Savage he's convinced his brother is just like him, so when Savage dies and stays dead, it shatters something in him he didn't know he had. He's also captured by Palpatine and tortured/experimented upon because immortality is absolutely something that withered bastard wants.

Maul still isn't able to defeat Palps, which is another big mark against the "I'm a god" theory, but he does finally escape and goes off to lick his wounds and try to recover.

The Jedi are still wiped out, but while at first this seems like a good thing to him, there is an emptiness to existence that wasn't there before. Palpatine being in charge of the galaxy galls, and worse, he's doing a bad job of it, in Maul's opinion. It doesn't help that when Empire troopers see him they assume he's a Jedi and try to kill him. Sometimes succeeding.

One of the reasons Maul never got a chance at bettering himself is because he was too consumed with his own grievances to see past the end of his nose, but now he has an eternity to learn and eventually... he does.

Sure, part of it is still fueled by his anger at the universe, but over time he finds he likes helping others. It's strange and off-putting to encounter people who are kind to him and who don't fear him. Once upon a time he'd have been insulted, but now it's... nice. Ish.

He still backslides a lot because, well, he's Maul, but also backsliding is part of moving forward. He helps the Rebellion here and there because anyone who wants to destroy Palpatine is welcome, as far as he's concerned. If he meets the twins, he definitely favors Leia over Luke.

By the time the Sequels happen, Maul has been on the "good" end of the spectrum for a while. Maybe the lower end of it, but still good. He's absolutely not putting up with this First Order bullshit.

Lots of stuff is still the same, but I'll say Maul was fucking around on the Deth Star X-treme! so the attempt to wipe out Hosnia system partially failed. Still lots of death and destruction, but enough of the central government survives that they're forced to realize they may have made a mistake with all their waffling. Maybe.

Maul kills Snoke and is killed in return. While some underlings drag the bodies off to the incinerators, Kylo and Hux are in a standoff over who's in charge.

Maul wakes up and knocks out the troopers carrying him and Snoke, then stashes them in a room without any means of communication. See? He can learn not to kill everyone. Plus, if Fin could rebel maybe these guys will, too. Snoke burns, and Maul heads off to the reactor thingy in time to see Han talking to Kylo.

It's very important for me to note here that there is absolutely no way to excuse Kylo's choice to kill his father: with Snoke dead it is absolutely his own choice to put a saber through Han's chest. Except thanks to some timely intervention from Maul, Han is only grievously wounded instead because fuck you, Harrison Ford.

Maul taunts Kylo, saying that he's met Anakin Skywalker and can confirm that Kylo is just like him: a sniveling, spoiled brat with more hair than sense. He also says Kylo doesn't deserve the name Ben because Obi-Wan, at least, was a worthy opponent.

They fight, giving our plucky heroes time to drag Han to the safety of the ship. Kylo is all you don't understaaand, but Maul is very been there, done that, don't even have the scars to prove it.

Is there a chance Kylo could someday learn to be a better person? Maybe, but it took Maul seventy-odd years and a lot of deaths to unstubborn himself and he really isn't in the mood to take that chance.

Now. At this point it could go one of two ways: the fast solution is Maul kills Kylo and then it's just a matter of wiping out Hux and Phasma and getting Fin to help "deprogram" the troopers and dismantle the Order. OR Kylo could kill Maul and go off to have the big fight in the snow with Rey and Fin while Maul, who isn't recovering as fast as he used to, struggles to get back to the ship and trusts his apprentice(s) to handle it.

With the former the Resistance is going to realize that a First Order without Darksiders mucking things up is actually a lot more dangerous and harder to kill, though it still gets done in the end.

With the latter, the drama lasts longer and it'll be Rey who winds up killing Kylo only to get killed, herself. ...And wake up.

Either way, the trip to Luke's Sooper Seekrit Hideout includes Maul. Because I can play god with this, I'll say that Luke isn't sulking out his entire life on Ahch-To, but rather went there for Important Reasons and got stuck. He and Maul can be bickering co-Masters to Rey's training (and eventually Fin's). Maul teaches her how to create mental shields so Kylo can't intrude on her thoughts (if he's still alive).

The baddies are eventually defeated. Maul & Rey have a lot to talk about re: near-immortality. Han, Leia, Luke, and Chewie are reunited and happy to retire for good, maybe with Lando. Fin & Poe are tasked with trying to return the dozens of children saved from First Order training camps, but it's likely they're going to be raising a lot of them themselves.

Maul is finally comfortable and satisfied with the person he's become. He may not be able to change the past, but he can help shape the future. And he can try to prepare Rey for whatever may be coming next.

(Maul isn't the only immortal, just the only one relevant to this particular story)

[nohkalikai]

how's the masters going? thoughts on academia?

the master's went! i feel nothing! i hated it! i somehow finished my damn dissertation. i don't really have a working relationship with my supervisor and i don't like him very much so i've been slow wrt getting his comments on my manuscript (i wanna publish, submitted a protocol and everything)

as for thoughts on academia...my key takeaway from all my time in undergrad and masters is not to take academia seriously at all.

(these are all thoughts i've been expressing over time so a lot of my anger and frustration has dissipated, but there are strays here and there lol)

i think more than any intellectual thoughts i have, i'm led by my experience and emotions here. my time in educational institutions + interacting with research fellows, teaching assistants and profs has been absolutely disastrous for how i perceive the world, the people around me, and myself - undid all the grounding and pragmatism of my childhood as well as the idealism of my adolescence.

especially studying here in the UK, the lack of critical thought is absolutely MIND BLOWING. what really ground my gears was *just* how racist profs can be; not overtly so (though some were), but just in how resistant they were to students questioning any paradigms + in how they never acknowledged the power and history behind knowledge production -- doubly surprising since my field is heavy on social science methods and cross cultural competency. and these are the people who get put on boards and panels for studies in the global south. meeting experts irl in some of the most renowned centres and programmes for my field...girl what a joke.

the farce of it all aside, academics are truly some of the most depressing people to hang around. truly corrosive to the spirit. i thought it was just a problem w my field (mental health) but it really isn't! i suppose people doing business or finance PhDs would complain less though. but yeah it all seems to be a sort of insecurity olympics where academics rile against corporations and corporate employees...while behaving in the exact same ways in the exact same work conditions! all while being in massive denial about it. AND while looking down at the same world we analyse from a glass house, without a shred of self awareness.

admittedly i'm still reeling from my biggest regret in life so far (this damn master's degree) but i know that this anger and bias arose out of something genuine. i wanted to quit my field and quit academia for good after i was done w my dissertation lmao. but with time and perspective, i've simmered down a bit. still, i think the only way i can survive in my field and in academia is to treat it like fun playtime. because ultimately that is what it is, like with any field: a bunch of white ppl in the global north treat the world as their cute little playgrounds where they have a silly goofy time while the rest of us break our fucking backs to get anywhere.

(i am taking a big fat break from academia...a far cry frm 19 year old me who was very committed to wanting to do research in this field and was convinced that he had the grit to make it through)