#i mean i guess that makes my eating disordered in the sense that it is disfunctional and not normal/orderly lmao but

[theredofoctober]

MANNA CHAPTER 2: SUPPER

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham fic, TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, mild Daddy kink (it'll all make sense).

This chapter is chronologically 2nd in the series.

Keep reading after the cut

Blood in your mouth; you've bitten your inner cheek in your sedative state, auto-cannibalism under the eye of vague attendants. Both are male, featureless, moth-men with closed wings.

You glance from one to the other, grasping foolishly at memory, not yet finding its edges.

"Dad?"

The figure on the left ejects an awkward laugh.

"Which one of us is that again?"

"A moment, Will," says the other man, and through the ether of sleep you see his face, the etching of an aesthete, that which you have seen before.

Hannibal. Dr. Lecter. An enemy in the seat of a saviour.

"Give her time to wake," he says, "and to acclimatise to her environment."

"What's going on?" you ask, rubbing your hands across your face in an effort to rouse yourself. "Where am I right now?"

"You don't remember what happened?" asks Hannibal, his absence of brows arched. "You are in my home, where you will be staying for the foreseeable future, under my care. My colleague, Will Graham, will be assisting me in looking after you. I hope that while you are unhappy with your situation, you will be cordial to him."

A tableau— Hannibal trapping you against the door, your knee bruising his male sensitivity, intimate as newlyweds in the clinch of your rash violence—slows your thoughts with its artistry.

You remain too sluggish, yet, to fear Dr. Lecter as you did in his office. Every feeling seems performed by some spirit in your place, a girl who died here before you, leaving a breath of her sorrows in the walls.

"Are you a doctor?" you ask the man named Will Graham.

He blinks at you as though perturbed by the question.

"No," he says, shortly. "I lecture in criminal profiling for the FBI. Occasionally, I step in as a special agent on crime scenes. I'm here to offer my insights on your case, I guess. Haven't decided quite what they are, yet."

You sit up, frowning.

"But I'm not a murderer."

Will smiles, the curl of his mouth quite unpleasant.

"I know. Doesn't mean I can't get inside your head, though."

He is unfriendly, and oddly furtive, his expression dancing between moral objection and a grudging interest in you. Segments of his conversation with Hannibal pluck at you delicately: he is present only under duress, any curiosity a provocation on Dr. Lecter's part.

You glimpse an avenue for escape through the younger man's sensitivity.

"So... you're a cop?" you ask, carefully.

Will coughs out a laugh.

"Not exactly. Why, worried I'll arrest you?"

"No, but you should arrest Dr. Lecter."

Hannibal delivers you an amused look.

"I have no concerns with the legalities of your treatment. Will would not incriminate himself in any act that would be to your detriment."

You worry your lower lip with your teeth, wondering how much of the truth Will Graham knows.

"So... am I in trouble?"

"Why would you be?" Will enquires, but the question is directed at Hannibal, who coolly answers.

"She assaulted me in her efforts to leave my office."

You stiffen as Will's expression clouds with a new darkness.

"Are you hurt?"

"Fortunately not. I could have been, but I was prepared for resistance. A poor start to our relationship, nonetheless. I think an apology is in order."

Threat is inevitable in that statement; you look for windows, doors, any potential exit, knowing well that you cannot move fast enough to pass your jailers without intervention.

Will says your name, the suddenness throwing you like the recoil of a gun.

"Apologise to Dr. Lecter."

"She was frightened, Will," says Hannibal, generously. "Like a stray animal unused to human contact, she cannot help but bite in the terror that we mean her harm."

Yet he does mean you harm, means to play with you as an orca does a seal it kills, an inversion of his own metaphor.

Will shakes himself, turning from you in reluctance to meet your gaze.

"You said she has to learn," he says, through gritted teeth. "We need to reinforce boundaries with her. So either she apologises, or we have to punish her. That's the way this works, right?"

Fear opens your lethargy with a surgeon's precision.

"Punish?" you cry. "What are you talking about?"

Ignoring your interjection, Dr. Lecter says, "You are correct, Will. For certain plants, a framework is needed for them to grow. What trellis must we build to guide our clematis to its most majestic heights?"

Will regards his friend thoughtfully.

"What's your suggestion?"

"There are two options that occur to me," says Hannibal, watching as you claw yourself against the headboard with both hands. "The first is that we begin the initial step of her recovery with a hearty meal. I was informed by her family that she has not eaten since yesterday. It is not too late for me to prepare dinner. If she will not eat, then I have the means to encourage her to do so."

Dr. Lecter turns aside, allowing you to glimpse a feeding tube posed gracefully on a tabletop. You have long feared this tool, which even previous therapists have raised as a possibility for you, should you not end this starving strike. Never had you pictured a day this horror would find its becoming.

Terror licks at you as readily as a flame.

Starting forward, you grip Will by the wrist, unhinged in your desperation.

"Don't let him do that to me."

Will looks down at your hand with displeasure, yet he doesn't attempt to remove it, enduring your touch with grimacing obligation.

"And the other option, Dr Lecter?" he asks, thinly. "It's been a long day, and I don't know if I have the energy to step in as orderly to a violent patient without preparation."

"I am sure that you would handle her proficiently," says Dr. Lecter. "But perhaps there is another method we can consider, first."

He takes Will aside and murmurs to him; the fragments you discern sound as ambiguous as the language used aloud.

The younger man takes on a cornered look.

"I... can't do that," he protests, his posture sharp with discomfort. "That could open up a whole host of new problems for her."

"Or it could impress upon her the necessity to listen to her guardians," says Hannibal. "I will join you, if it will persuade you."

"Doesn't that go against the confines of your role?"

Dr. Lecter smirks, his fine-jawed features made truly handsome.

"I will enact discipline, also. But it will not be the first tool that I apply."

The two men approach the bed together, one on either side of you, apparently united in their purpose.

"What are you doing?" you cry, although by now you've a sense of it. "Stay away from me!"

"These are the conquences of resistance, little one," says Hannibal, closing the space between you. "From now on, I suggest that you comply."

You scramble backwards only to come up against Will Graham, his arms a cuff around you.

"Don't struggle," he snaps. "I don't want to hurt you any more than I have to."

"No! No!"

Child-like, you find yourself reduced to simple denial, fear snatching the very language from you. You are all trembling fragility beneath Will as he shoves you, face down, on the bed; you turn your head back to look at him, glimpsing a flash of clenched teeth, eyes with a bear's indifferent hunger, something sickly, and soulful underneath.

You think, this man is not well, then bark out a startled scream as he forces your head frontwise, a fisherman's rough hand on your scalp, oppressing you in its unthinking violence.

"Face him," Will barks, pushing you for emphasis. "He's the one you injured."

You comply, feeling on the very cusp of death.

The man on your back manoeuvres you on all fours to his liking, the stave of his hard want crushed against his jeans. His comrade holds your arms down, though you could not move them at the devil's request; stillness is your ally, submission where a fight would cut your throat.

Hannibal looks at you with the cruel serenity of an angel, in all his justice. He touches your tear-scaled cheek with solace stolen from husbands and fathers; when he tips your face to his, you know what he will take from you, have felt the omen of that kiss.

It is intimate, gentle, kinder than any touch you've known in years. You blink, dismayed by the lust that roots itself from gut to cunt in its tangling wisteria.

"What— why?" you stutter, the feel of his lips on yours a reverberation that long remains.

"A treatment from bygone times," says Hannibal, patiently. "Although widely frowned upon, sex was once implemented to allieve many ailments. I find value in it, still."

"No," you say, aware of Will's arousal at your entrance. "I mean, why did you kiss me? Why would you do that?"

"You ache to be cherished, and so you will be. Alas, it may be many months before you see me as the friend you crave."

"You'll never be my friend," you sneer, and regret the barb as Will thrusts against you, having unbuckled his jeans to free himself to your imprisonment.

There is an arc of sore horror as his cock bolts within, making butchery of you in his taking. Will's arms are either side of you, the bars that cage such a sow; he smells of sweat, and Old Spice, and dog hair, and now of sex. You sob drily as he ruts your vulnerability against the mattress, as he sucks the skin of your neck in his teeth and bites until a ring tattoos your throat.

That mark is a staple of sexual assault, you'd read that somewhere, a sigil of the taker's power.

Limp, you let him use you, fucking you in so harsh and primal rhythm that you can think of nothing but its pattern.

What ill of yours earned this brash causality? Why, of all patients, has Hannibal taken you up as his toy?

"Stay there," Will grumbles, as you arch your back in a spasm of gilded agony. "Don't move."

"I have her," says Hannibal, and he guides you up onto your knees, his chest flat to yours as Will ruins the atrium of his desire. "Teach her what she will endure, if she will not accept our aid."

You cannot stand to be torn apart like this, a beast between your legs, and another touching your breasts and waist as though your partner in a waltz, all courtly chivalry.

"Please, Will," you moan, but he has thrown aside his reason, swept up in this gourmand's pleasure.

"Hurt me the way you hurt Dr. Lecter and you'll really wish you hadn't," he says, and you shake your head in a frantic falsehood.

"I won't. I swear I won't."

Will is fire, and you are ash: he is pain and delight, a conundrum. He puts a hand to your neck, holding your head upright as he fucks you, and growls against your ear sharp threats that sell you to silence.

Hannibal stares at you in fascination. You feel it pour over you like tar, glazing you with the shame of your illness having made you his object.

Dr. Lecter is of an evil Will is not, setting you both before him to observe your every response.

Later, he will write notes about this; the hands that glide your body now will itch for the pen, to lay out all you are on paper, and memorialise your suffering.

Does he truly think that this will help you? You don't believe it.

This night is his experiment, that which he might take apart like a pig's heart to show its working to students of science. Will is Dr. Lecter's pupil, and he is moulding the man to be as he is, and though it is Graham that fucks you, it is Hannibal you hate the most, the God that set this all into motion.

Will's breath flutters at your ear, and he stills, only the part of him within you left flinching to a vicious end. Hannibal steps back from the bedframe, smoothing down his suit of creases with elegant hands. As Will struggles up to join him, you crumple forward, sodden and stammering, a headache starting to beat at your temple, the hangover of Dr. Lecter's drug.

Yet when the younger man places a hand to your jerking back, you accept the touch, wanting even so poor a substitute for love.

"Daddy," you whisper. "I want to go home."

Will jerks away from you, staring at his own hand with abject revulsion.

"What have I done?" he asks, and there is an undercurrent of awe to the words that you do not quite understand.

"You did what you had to," says Dr. Lecter, smoothly. "What was needed."

His colleague shakes his head, his gaze dropping floorwise.

"No. She's seriously ill. She should be in a hospital ward, and I— we—"

"Will."

You cannot stand the fondness with which Hannibal addresses the other man, grooming him to such extremities of evil. He lays a hand on Will's shoulder, and he relaxes into the touch, an unconscious softening of his inate angles.

They stand together as if alone in the room, Dr. Lecter's face almost in the crook of Will Graham's neck.

"She is quelled," he says, quietly. "Tomorrow, she will eat the breakfast I make for her with the memory of this correction, and in time, she will learn to thank you for it. Even to love."

Still, Will lingers in the doorway, watching you wind yourself into the coverlet to nurse the wound of his making.

"Is she going to be alright?" he asks, nervously.

Through sodden lashes, you see Dr. Lecter guide his colleague into the hallway, as a strict father might the mother that coddles an infant that screams to be held.

"Let her sleep," he murmurs. "Her dreams will be woven with our teaching. Soon we shall see what tapestry will be made."

They leave you there, descending into opiate darkness. You slumber, but you do not dream, only lie with your hand over the heat these heathens have struck in what was before a lampless under-earth.

Your hunger follows you down into the castles of sleep, loyal to its creator.

[lolliepops-rox]

Hello 2024 Hetalia fandom. I want to talk about schizophrenic Arthur Kirkland.

Background: I myself is someone with psychosis, along with experience with schizophrenic family members. I'm not talking completely out of my ass. But not do I obviously speak for every mental ill person ever. Moreover, I am pulling on the way being a nation would affect his relationship with being schizophrenic.

I am extremely new to the fandom, but my best friend who has been here for a decade has talked with me about how the idea was handled in the past. I want to give this headcanon a genuine and sincere look at it, because I think it's interesting and I want to project onto Arthur a little.

One of the reasons he's a terrible cook is actually because of his schizophrenia. Disordered thinking means he struggles to follow steps in a recipe. The impact on his motor skills makes him even worse. Please do not give this man a knife. He will cut himself.

I think because of his own experience with cooking, he is prone to food related paranoia, things like it being rotten or poisoned, sometimes affected by the era/current events. During times of famine he's gonna lean towards rotten, verse maybe some civil unrest leading to him thinking his food is poisoned. Disordered eating is a huge problem for him. (We found out partly where Alfred gets it from lol)

Continuing with the food theme, smelling rotten food is a common hallucination for him. Olfactory hallucinations just make sense for him to me, so the smell of fire and gas is a common one too. (This is partly the effect of the many London fires throughout the centuries).

In terms of visional hallucinations, I don't think he'd be very prone to it. Reality checks for them he'd have to rely on his British Isles brothers for them, due to being able to see actual mythical creatures. This is made hard by the fact he's often not on speaking terms with his brothers. This has resulted in an incident where Arthur had assumed a creature following him was a hallucination, that turned out to be real and was HIGHLY offended at being ignored for so long.

In terms of delusions, being a public figure makes discerning reality difficult at times. He is super prone to delusions about being hated by everyone, or being the most popular person ever. This can be hard to reality check because well, he is famous, and sometimes the public does hate him, and people have tried to kill him. My poor man's ego can NOT handle being a public figure with schizophrenia.

England, circa. 2003, on the phone to his PA: Can you send someone over? Either someone is trying to kill me, I'm having another episode, or both. I am not leaving my house until this is resolved. Thanks.

In terms of disordered movement, he would get slapped with that very 'childish' label. Arthur holds himself and moves in a way that looks weird to others. He moves way too much, everything has more motion and steps than necessary, overly fluid. It often leads to people getting accidentally hit by a stray hand from Arthur.

Arthur is NOTORIOUS for his word salad. I feel like Francis over the years has adjusted to understand a lot of Arthur's word salad but still sometimes it's like

Arthur: -gibberish-

Antonio: uhhh what did he say?

Francis: Don't look at me, this is even beyond my understanding of England.

Alfred is the worst of the native English speaking countries when it comes to understanding Arthur's word salad. Like Ludwig is better at guess what Arthur meant than Alfred is.

Anyways, that's some of my thoughts <3 I would love to hear other people's ideas & feedback. Thnx xD

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 31

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Is it Monday already?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You sit in the waiting room, anxious and squirmy as Andy keeps his hand on yours. When you start to fidget, he squeezes and you stop. He doesn't tell you to but you can sense his agitation. It only adds to your own impatience.

When Dr. Kemp emerges to call you in, you have to keep yourself from jumping up. You're caught in the urge to both run away and run towards him. With all the thoughts you've had about him, especially while exploring, you're set alight just at the sight of him.

Andy accompanies you in. You almost forgot he would be there too. You near Kemp with a smile and he watches you with placid blue eyes. His coolness makes you self-conscious. The one thing you can never tell him is how he makes you feel.

He welcomes you in as usual. Before you can claim the chair you often sit in, Andy nudges you towards the chaise long. You hesitate but redirect, sitting with him on the dimpled leather.

Dr. Kemp shuts the door and crosses the office, sitting in the other chair as he leans an arm against the side. He gives a thoughtful hum as he considers both of you. Andy reaches to put his hand over yours, once more tightening his grip.

"So… how are things? Are we seeing progress?" Kemp asks brightly. "I'm sensing… improvement."

You just nod as Andy clears his throat and shifts. "I think… I think so," his fingers twiddle on his other thigh, "we have been… intimate. Somewhat, right, honey?"

You shy away and give another nod. Humiliated.

"In what way?" Kemp prompts.

You nearly choke and look at him with round eyes.

"This is a safe space, so we can be honest," he coaxes as he notes your shock, "have you both… tend to each other?"

Andy sighs and his fingers curl around yours. You wince.

"Yeah, but… she… she drank a bit too much so… she doesn't remember…" Andy huffs, "so… I tried."

"I'm sorry," you squeak, "I didn't mean to."

"Hm, and is there a reason you were drinking?" Kemp asks you.

"Well, uh, no. Andy gave me a beer, so– I don't really–"

"So you gave her a drink and are mad that it affected her?" He challenges Andy and you flinch again. 

"She's an adult–"

"All and well but you can't get upset. What can you expect?" Kemp reprimands and Andy tenses, grumbling under his breath. 

"So," Kemp redirects back to you, "you have… shown Andy that you're committed? Spoken in his love language, but has he done the same for you?"

You struggle not to rip your hand out of Andy's. You don't know what to say. You don't know what you want, especially from Andy. 

"I… guess. I don't know?" You sputter, "he… he's nice. He…"

"I buy her things, I do stuff for her all the time–" Andy interjects.

"Please," Kemp silences him with a wave of his hand, "Andy is obviously an affectionate person, but what do you need?"

You gulp and shrug. You really don't know. You just open and close your mouth like a fish.

"Here's what we do. Andy, you cool it. The next time you do anything, I want her to initiate. And I don't want you," he points at you, "to do what he wants. You figure out what you need and that's what you do, understand?"

You swallow, lightheaded. You know what he means but you don't want to think about it. What if what you want isn't Andy?

"The next time we check in, I think I should do another housecall…" Kemp says, "and after this, we'll have our usual one-on-one. For now, I want to do a few exercises between you two…"

You blink rapidly. There's so much to do. That was always the worst feeling, knowing you had an insurmountable list ahead of you. Steps, that's what the doctor always says, little steps.

🕊️

Andy leaves and your private session begins. You’re nervous, still scalded from the conversation about intimacy. You fidget as you tuck yourself into the corner of the couch, trying to shrink down as much as you can.

Dr. Kemp stands and walks casually to the window. He doesn’t say anything right away. You wilt in the silence, wondering if you should start. How do you do that though? What do you say?

Your head races with the messages on your tablet. It’s so much easier to talk to him through a screen. Face-to-face, you’re embarrassed at everything you’ve shared with him under the deceitful protection of distance.

He turns to face you, smiling as he leans on the window ledge. He crosses his arms and you see how his chest flexes under his shirt. You try not to focus on that, bringing your eyes back to your twiddling fingers.

“Let’s focus on you,” he puts one foot in front of the other, uncrossing his arms to fix his left cuff. “You’ve been… exploring.”

You chew your lip. Oh gosh. Why did you ever let him convince you to do that? And why had you done it every day since? 

“Now, don’t be shy. You know I won’t judge you. I wouldn’t encourage it if it was bad,” he comes forward slowly and sits at the other end of the couch, “can I ask you something?”

You nod, staring at your lap. You lean into the armrest, slouching as heat nips at your cheeks. You feel terribly dizzy. Even if he’s not that close, he’s crowding you.

“Why are you so… let me restart that. What has made you so… reticent about your sexuality?” He asks.

You shake your head. You can’t speak. It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know what makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“You never… never tried anything before? Never been curious?” He prompts.

You swallow and hunch forward, speaking to the carpet, “a little.” You clasp your hands tight, forcing them still, “but… it hurt. So I stopped and… just forgot about it.”

“The other day. Did it still hurt you?”

You shake your head again. 

“That’s good,” he praises and the couch jostles as he moves closer. He keeps some space between you as he reaches to touch your shoulder, “it’s not shameful. You’re just getting to know yourself. You’re taking care of yourself, sweetie. And That’s a good thing.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with a nod, his touch electrifying.

“So you can take what you learn about yourself and show Andy. Share it with him,” he suggests.

You’re quiet. You shrug off his hand and look away. You can’t tell him the truth. About why you enjoyed it so much. You don’t really understand it yourself. It’s probably doesn’t mean anything.

“Doctor,” you push your chin back down and sense him lean in, listening to you intently. “What… what if when I… did it, I wasn’t thinking of Andy?”

He takes a breath and lets his hand rest on the cushion between you. He leans an elbow on his thigh as his gaze sears into you. His fingers tap as he thinks.

“Nothing wrong with that. It’s not uncommon to have fantasies. They’re only that, they’re not real. So who are you hurting?” He drags his hand back and shrugs, “does that make sense?”

Your lips part and you make yourself sit up. You feel lighter. Yeah, you suppose it can’t hurt Andy if he doesn’t know who you think of. Or Steve.

“I guess,” you agree.

“Great,” he sits back, “so who did you think of?”

You look at him in shock. He chuckles at your expression and waves you off. You frown, heart pumping wildly.

“You don’t have to say,” he reaches over to lightly tap your knee, “I was just being nosy.”

“Oh,” you pick at your fingernail.

“Being funny,” he says, “let’s redirect. Anything new this week? New books? How’s the painting going?”

You peek at him, biting your cheek. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. That’s crazy, you’re the only person in this room. He has nothing else to distract him. You’re being silly. You love Andy, not Dr. Kemp.

🕊️

You yawn at the canvas as you focus on the details of the feathers. Your work is coming together. You might be done soon. You’re at that point where you just don’t want to stop because you can see the end.

Andy doesn’t feel the same. The last time he checked in on you, he clucked at your response. It’s Saturday night, he reminds you. Yes, well, doesn’t that mean you can stay up late?

You can hear him inside the house as he grabs another beer. He had one for dinner and after as you excused yourself to paint. Is that his third? Fourth? You don’t know. Maybe you shouldn’t count.

Your eyes are itchy and you long to close them and let the tension out of your shoulder. That’s another thing that keeps you at the easel. As much as you long for bed, you’re nervous about sleeping in Andy’s bed. After the day’s therapy session, you feel like you have to do something. Something you’re not ready for.

You rinse your brush and step back. You go to your tablet to check your reference image, accidentally swiping over to a different draft. It’s a sketch you did the other day, only half-finished. It’s Amber, or supposed to be.

Your heart sinks. You remember slamming the cover on the tablet after realising you couldn’t remember exactly how she looked. You remember her smell, her voice, her warmth, but you just couldn’t get the slant of her nose right, you couldn’t make her eyes sparkle just so.

You quickly push the image away, looking for the falcon crest, but your motivation quickly dies. You don’t want to paint anymore. Neither do you want to go inside. Even if it is awfully chilly out here.

The TV blares from inside the house. You can hear it even through several walls. You wonder if you’re making too much noise or if it’s something else. 

You tap on the screen listlessly, realising too late that you’re staring at the chat with Dr. Kemp. It’s too late to message him. You’ll wait until tomorrow. Yeah, you can’t bother him this late.

By some eerie coincidence, a new message pops up before you can close the chat. You wipe your hand on your stained tee shirt as you read it. ‘Have a good night, sweetie. You did very well today’.

You go over the letters over and over again. You smile to yourself but quickly wipe it away. He’s only being nice.

‘Thank you. Have a good night.’

You send the message and leave the tablet on the small table. You start cleaning up, taking your time as you dread the other side of the wall. Andy won’t be happy you waited so long, but he might be too tired to be angry with you.

You grab your tablet and pause, reading the unexpected new message; ‘you going to bed?’

You bite your thumb. What should you say? Well, you should be honest, right?

‘Soon. Hope I can sleep.’ You tap the arrow and sway, looking up at the garage door. You really should just say good night and go inside.

‘What’s keeping you awake?’

Oh, gosh. End it. Stop talking. There was enough of that earlier. You’re typing before you can stop yourself.

‘Amber.’

That’s it. The only word you can manage. Off goes the bubble and almost immediately those three dots appear on his side of the chat. Then they disappear.

The chirp from your tablet surprises you. You nearly drop it but smack the screen instead, inadvertently answering the call. Oh no! He must’ve hit the wrong button.

You see Dr. Kemp on the screen and in the corner, your own face looks back. You sputter as you notice his bare shoulders, distracted from hating your reflection. You gasp.

“Oops,” you utter with a nervous chuckle.

“You’re thinking of Amber?” He asks without a beat.

“Um, yeah, but– Dr. Kemp, it’s late. We can talk next week. I’m sorry.”

“I called for a reason. I’m not Dr. Kemp right now, I’m Steve. Your friend,” he stares at you, smiling as you notice the odd angle. 

He must be sitting down, maybe he was getting ready for bed, that would explain his lack of shirt. You can’t even see that much, just the top of his chest. Don’t think about it. Maybe he doesn’t even realise.

“My friend?”

“Of course,” he coaxes, “so tell me, what are you thinking about Amber?”

You shrug and look away with a pout. You don’t know if you should say. You should’ve mentioned it earlier. You’re wasting his time.

“Aw, you miss her, sweetie? That’s normal. She’s your sister.”

You turn back to the tablet. You can’t help the tremble in your chin. You miss her, yes, but more than that. There’s not a word that can express how deeply you feel in that moment. You love Amber so much but you’re ashamed of how you used her for so long. Then you abandoned her.

“Did you decide if you want to invite her to Thanksgiving? I think that’s a great idea,” he says.

“Oh, uh… Andy wouldn't… I don’t know,” you mumble and turn, glancing at the door, suddenly paranoid he might hear you. “I should… it’s very late. I should go to bed.”

He nods. His hair is slightly askew, it’s usually so neat and tidy. He has a bit of stubble poking through along his jaw. He looks more handsome than you’ve ever seen him. You can barely think.

“Alright, I won’t keep you. You need a good night’s sleep, right? Because you have to take care of yourself, right?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Steve,” he corrects.

You giggle, “yes, Steve.”

“Okay, go on,” he shifts the tablet, “chat tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you promise, “good night.”

“Night,” he winks.

The call ends and you stare at the screen. Your chest flutters as you make yourself close the cover. You feel bubbly like you could float. And something else. Something that needs to be quelled. A deep need that has your fingers tingle for that familiar buzz.

[plasticflwrs]

⠀⠀   ⠀┈─ THE ALBATROSS ⠀⠀／ ⠀⠀ an introduction to oh deurim ( 2022 ).

"The notion of my future suddenly snapped into focus: it didn't exist yet. I was making it, standing there, breathing, fixing the air around my body with stillness, trying to capture something—a thought, I guess—as though such a thing were possible, as though I believed in the delusion described in those paintings—that time could be contained, held captive." — My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh.

WORD COUNT. 2.7k WARNINGS / NOTES. Mentions of Oliver's suicide attempt and references to Jiyeon's eating disorder. Let me know if I'm missing anything else and please enjoy! Originally posted in 2023 but almost completely rewritten.

At the age of fifteen, you are told your debut is postponed for ‘the greater good’ and that motivates you to become the best.

The real money wasn’t with Celatum anyway. They would always be the group left behind by your company and casual listeners. They were never popular enough and with the growth of better acts, it seems that they will be forgotten to the past, waiting for their contracts to end so they could go their separate ways or get kicked out trying. You aren’t missing much by the company passing over you, but it hurts like a bitch, to be passed up by some new trainee that could barely hold a tune.

It hurts and that motivates you further.

At the age of nineteen, you reach the top of every evaluation with ease. You are the perfect trainee—docile, open to criticism, and supportive of any plan that they have for you. You have perfected the art of singing, dancing, and even rapping to maintain that spot at the top of everything. The company figures that should be enough to secure your debut in their newest project and attempt to hold their own survival show. However, the stress of the competition gets to you, and you are left in the dust because of a bad call as team leader. You are branded a villain and kicked from the show with no mercy, back to the practice room with nothing.

You realize that being the best can only get you so far. You will need the help of someone else to get you there and suddenly, you are twenty-years-old and there’s an opening in Plastic Flowers. You are picked from a lineup of seven trainees to fill the spot left by Minghui following his dramatic exit and Shin Yeonghui choses you personally. Another boy, one you have never met, is put on the back burner in case the lead singer, Oliver Song, doesn’t return from his vacation in the States.

Yeonghui is excited to work more closely with you and she hopes that extends to her career as well, promising her big things if she turns this into something bigger. You don’t understand the double meaning behind her words but smile and nod instead, promising that she would not be let down.

This was your chance to prove yourself as something more than the ‘bitch’ from Timefighter and get back on stage—where you belong. Your piano skills are rusty, something you never thought to brush up on, but there’s always time.

You are going to debut.

Cheon Garam, your new manager, picks you up from the trainee dorm at four in the afternoon. Garam looks young, maybe thirty-one at the earliest, and has an interesting look with a short pixie cut and dark eyeliner. She seems nice enough and fills you in on the recent drama in the dorm. Apparently, they were beginning to worry about the future given the recent events with Oliver Song. The second trainee makes more sense.

“Are you excited to debut?” Garam asks, glancing at you for a second before going back to the road. “It’s been a long time coming, huh?”

You nod, “I always knew I was going to debut, the question was just when.”

“I do need to warn you though,” Garam starts before swearing at another driver in front of her. The other car had cut them off, but from the amount of curses that leave her mouth, you would think it was something worse. “Sorry—but things are gonna be a bit slow for a while. Oliver just got back a weeks ago and he might say he’s fine, but I call bullshit. That kid has never been fine. You’ve been filled in on what happened?”

You nod again, but don’t reply. It had been a big deal in the trainee dorms because all the girls had a crush on him. (You liked him as well and often tried to catch his eye despite the very public relationship he had. You would never admit it to the other girls, of course). He was the only idol that gave them the time of day and was often in their monthly evaluations, giving constructive criticism rather than barking orders at them. He was nice and actually understood what being a trainee meant. It was easy to like him. Seeing him back in the training areas caused everyone to jump in excitement, attempting to impress him and win some unknown prize.

“Good,” Garam sighs, “I didn’t want to have to tell that story again.”

Oliver Song was a train wreck waiting for it’s inevitable crash and that happened just a few months ago, kick starting this sequences of events. You suppose you have to thank him when he finally returns. Child stars are always the most vulnerable to these things and he was no different. The stress of the job and the death of his father had gotten too much. You heard in the lobby that he tried to kill himself in the old dorm’s bathroom, swallowed a bunch of pills and it was Serin that found him. After that, the affair went public and he was shipped back to his hometown of Boston with very little contact.

No one has seen him since the airport photos had dropped on Twitter and you figure that was for the best of everyone involved. There’s a piece of you that wished he would be there, just to see what he looked like on the inside and brag to the other girls when your cellphone was returned. You would know Oliver Song and the members of Plastic Flowers on a deeper level than they could ever imagine.

“I’m sure it was hard,” you comment, feigning sympathy to get some information out of her.

Garam nods, pausing to switch lanes for the fifth time in a few minutes. “I guess, but I’m not as close to him as they are. Just remember that when you meet the others, yeah? They’re going through a hard time.”

“I get it,” you shrug. “The trainee dorms were probably worse.”

She doesn’t say much else as you pull into the parking lot of a luxury apartment building. With their careers finally taking off, the members of Plastic Flowers were given a new dorm to celebrate the success of their latest albums, though it seemed to be redundant as they faded back into obscurity. With no new music to chase the momentum, they would be forgotten like the other one-hit-wonders and you hope that Yeonghui has a plan to combat this.

“Welcome to the new building. Everyone else is still living at the old place as we sort things out. We own a few floors of the building already and hope to move everyone over when they reach the same popularity. Eden Jeong and Kim Yuchan have their own apartments, though. We only manage their music careers.”

You nod along as she explains everything about the building. There’s constant security to keep all the fans out and away from loitering outside. None of them have realized that the band had moved, but that would not last very long. They were still public figures and the company needed to be vigilant. The apartment has five bedrooms, thankfully, and you will be free to decorate however you please. The elevator finally arrives and you make a note to find the stairs because going up three floors makes no sense. Your foot taps against the metal floor and the butterflies hit as you go to meet your group mates for the first time. It makes a dinging sound with each floor they move up and when the light flashes on the third floor, she fixes her posture and puts a smile on your face.

You have already seen the different rooms thanks to the few live streams they had before the hiatus. The living room was decorated by both Serin and Salem because they didn’t trust the boys to make any aesthetic decisions, which Oliver protested from the other side of the phone. It's cute with a color palette focused mainly on neutral colors and sage green as the accent. Pictures of the members and gifts line the walls from the few in-person fan interactions they’ve been able to hold last year. You plan to take down the big picture from their first photo shoot as five down tomorrow.

Your picture needs to be up there to remind both members and fans that you’re not going anywhere. Whether they liked it or not.

“Everyone!” Garam called and her voice resembled your old teachers—carrying with just the right amount of authority that it wouldn’t scare them. “Come meet Deurim in the living room!”

Following the manager, you take in all the different decorations that filled in the room. More pictures of them throughout their childhood and career lined the walls, there were plastic vines hanging across the ceiling with a warm glowing light attached to it, and an entertainment system. The place was obviously lived in and you fight the frown that threatens to appear. You needed to make your mark on the apartment soon.

Each of the members looks worse than the other.

Junyeong was the only one that seemed awake and aware of his surroundings as he took a glance at Deurim before looking back at his phone. He tapped on it, sighing at something that seemed annoying, while not even looking up at her again. Whatever on the screen was more important than meeting his new band mate, of course.

Serin was pale and despite her fragile build, looked more like a skeleton than human being. You can see the dark blue veins standing out against her skin and the way she pulls the navy blue sweater closer to her body as if trying to find more warmth in the item.

Oliver stands in a similar manner to Jiyeon, though he rocks back and forth on his heels as he obverses you, as if trying to remember something. You hope it doesn’t take long for him to remember your talents and what you have shown over the past few years. Better was a strong word to describe it, but he healthier than the last year. He was no longer blond and he didn’t look so dead behind the eyes anymore.

Salem hasn’t been sleeping. That was the first thing you notice about her alongside the redness of her eyes, though she looks determined to make it through this meeting without breaking down. She could have fooled anyone else, but you have gotten better at looking for these little details over the years.

“Hey,” Salem greets, stretching her right hand to shake yours. “It’s nice to finally meet you—uh, congratulations on making it into the band.” Her voice is strained as she says the congratulations, as if unsure this was a good thing.

“Thank you,” you smile widely at all of them and take Salem’s hand, making sure that you appear friendly and likeable. You’ve pefected the act over the years. “It’s really an honor to meet you guys and actually join. I’ve admired you guys for years.”

Jiyeon smiles back and acts as the buffer between all of you. Now as the middle member, she was going to be the mediator. “We’re really excited to have you,” she beams. “Though Yeonghui made the final decision, it was pretty unanimous that we wanted you in the lineup. You seemed like a good replacement for Minghui.”

Minghui.

The name causes any trace of the friendly smile to disappear. He had willingly left the band and they still thought well of him. You don’t like that and threw a wrench in your biggest goal: being accepted into the group. You know it was going to be hard because they’ve already been together for five years, but you selfishly hoped that the anger towards Minghui would hasten the process. That assumption was wrong, apparently.

You laugh the statement off and try to calm the simmering temper. “Those are gonna be some tough shoes to fill.”

Garam nods and clasps her hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Well, you guys welcome Deurim and show her around. I’ll see you all at eleven tomorrow, okay?”

Everyone nods or responds to her question just before Garam slips out of the door. Without that middle person, you feel off balance as the other four look at you, each one with different expressions between boredom and curiosity.

“Deurim, you’ll be sleeping in the room between Oliver and Jiyeon. It should be empty, but let me know if you find anything,” Salem explains. She moves easily across the room and puts on her leather jacket, stuffing her keys and cellphone into the right pocket. “I have some leftovers from lunch if you want them or you can always order up to the apartment. I have a meeting with Yeonghui, so I’ll be back later. Don’t do anything stupid.”

The last statement is directed at Oliver and Salem glares at him before he nods, the best response that she was probably going to get that night.

“Well!” Jiyeon says, looking between all four of them. “Why don’t we get to know each other?”

“I’m in.”

“Sure.”

Junyeong gives you an annoyed look before taking a seat on the loveseat. He grimaces as Oliver sits next to him, Jiyeon takes the armchair by the window and that leaves you with the other chair across from them. The set up of the room makes it feel like an integration instead of a conversation as you glance between each other, waiting for something to start the conversation.

“Deurim, why don’t you start since we know each other already? You play the piano, right?”

“I started learning when I was younger but stopped to try dance. It wasn’t until recently that I starting picking it up again and transitioning to a keyboard.”

“What kind of dance did you learn?”

“Ballet.”

“Junyeong might finally have some competition,” Jiyeon joked, tapping him on the shoulder.

“No, I don’t,” Junyeong said, his nose turned up and glancing fully at Deurim this time. “I’ve judged her evaluations and there was nothing special.”

In that moment, you realize you might hate Kang Junyeong more than Minghui.

“I find that hard to believe,” Oliver argues. It’s the first thing he’s said since you got here and he was defending you. It almost makes you smile. “I sat in on them too and I thought she was pretty good.”

Junyeong shakes his head. “You know nothing about dance. You think that Chaeha is also talented.”

Kwon Chaeha had somehow debuted before you as Yuel as Velvetine and was one of the least talented people you had ever met. She was one of those filler idols, just placed in the group because they were pretty and would bring in money from commercials and acting. She wasn’t there to sing or dance, she was a glorified model. The comparison is not fair.

“Well, she’s certainly trying and I think that you can relate to that, Junyeong.”

Junyeong only shows emotions through his eyes, seemingly having mastered the ability to keep his face blank in any situation. They squint just a fraction and that’s the only tell that he has any reaction to Oliver’s comment. It’s no secret that Junyeong was a poor drummer, but he’s gotten better over the years. He turns towards the other and says, voice just as blank as his face, “you also tried something new and failed recently, but I haven’t said anything.” With that Junyeong gets off the couch and stalks into his bedroom, making sure to slam the door with all of his power for dramatic effect.

You play dumb for Oliver and Jiyeon. You wanted to hear everything from their perspective to see how drama tricked down and across the company. You needed to know the real story. “What’s he talking about?”

Jiyeon’s smile becomes strained as her attention turns back to you. “It’s nothing. Just something stupid that happened last year,” she shakes her head and stands up. “C’mon—I’ll show you to your room.”

You follow quietly behind her, glancing back at Oliver at the couch just before turning the corner. He hasn’t moved from the spot and glares a hole into the wall above him, as if trapped in his own thoughts. A sigh leaves your lips as you finally look away, pretending to listen to whatever Jiyeon was talking about. You nod along and hum in agreement at the perfect times, instead focusing on what you’ve learned about the members of Plastic Flowers—your new band mates.

[toneelspeelster]

ethics of motherhood: the jane / charlie spring essay

ever since the release of the second season of heartstopper i've seen so many different opinions on jane spring as a parent; she's the absolute devil, overbearing, completely against understanding charlie and his relationship with nick etc. etc. but i would like to delve into why i think the way alice set up jane spring in s2 is a /great/ gateway into a deeper, nuanced storyline between jane and charlie because, quite honestly - it's clearly long overdue. once again, i'd like to use backstory from the comics to infer what might be happening to jane in the series and how, maybe a bit surprisingly to some - charlie is in some respects a lot more like her than you might think.

please note: this is not an apology, or an excuse to jane's behaviour as a mother to charlie; i just want to give her actions a context and i think, show the room for growth which I think would be a beautiful, very nuanced, storyline between parent and child to take on in charlie's mental health story in s3/4.

(tw for parental abuse, discussion of eating disorder)

one thing that really informs jane spring as a character and as a mother in general is her own mother. we see in the comics that her mother is a. physically abusive and b. does not allow jane to have any criticism against her and uses that as a reason for the abuse.

jane later tells charlie the following on her relationship with her mother, acknowledging the effect that her mother had on her - to an extent. she softens the things that happened to her.

jane knows this of her being a mother: she's overbearing, her mother was too, and she was also hoping to be very different to what her mother was to her.

now what i think is a vital thing to consider is the following: jane grew up in a household where she was physically and emotionally unsafe. she was hit for expressing normal teenage behaviour. it should be okay to sometimes not agree with your parents and pushing back at them. they should provide you with a safe method of communication for doing so but they never taught jane that. as a result, i think it's a very human response of people to try and make sure they deal with things differently when they get older; but that also can result in overcompensating behaviour.

my feeling is that jane is overly focused, i think unconsciously, on keeping in particular charlie safe, and in that sometimes loses sight on making him feel actually (emotionally) safe. because safe means to jane: performing well in school, not doing anything that might be dangerous, but also: keep in line with expected social behaviour. what is the safest thing, jane thinks? that your behaviour is perfect. because if you don't give others any reason to think you're being out of order (in whatever way), you will not get abuse. safe is being perfect, doing everything perfectly. you can and should control your life in such a way that it will be possible for things to be perfect.

and guess who feels that way too?

kids learn a lot more from their parents than they would think (or even like).

one of the most interesting changes from novel to tv series i think, is the change of having jane not being immediately supportive of nick from the get go; as it fits in quite well with jane's character trait of being focused on charlie's safety (and by extension julio's character, but he goes about this differently and quite honestly... can be quite of a wet wipe lol) and exercising control over his behaviour to make him safe in her own eyes. she wants him to be socially presentable ("please change out of your pyjamas to meet guests"), to focus on school work, and for him to listen to her when she says he needs to come home; in a sense i think she wants to be aware of where charlie is at a given time and not too stay out too late, because the night? that might be dangerous.

we have to remember that charlie was severely bullied only a year ago, and julio's constant reminders of charlie in s1 of please calling him when the situation gets out of hand with nick's circle of "friends", indicates to me that his parents were aware of the bullying, maybe being informed by ajayi bc i don't see charlie being able to tell that to his parents himself. so: nick's "sort" (tao mentions his circle as "exactly the sort of people who bullied [charlie]") are in jane's eyes boys to be weary of.

so when charlie tells his parents, jane doesn't totally trust it.

this is worsened when it turns out nick is also going on the paris trip. for charlie, that's not the only reason to on the trip at all, but the way the conversation goes with julio's comment that's the reason why he wants to go, this is where nick gets associated in her mind with charlie as something that she needs to be aware of and perhaps even intervene. to make sure he's safe. she needs to control the situation if it goes wrong.

which she does. almost immediately. when charlie shows behaviour out of the ordinary for him and the only cause she sees is nick; he's the new factor in all of this.

it's like she thinks if she doesn't completely nip this behaviour in the bud in a very hard way, all the bad things imaginable will come immediately. like charlie would flunk school within a few weeks. charlie, who's been a high achiever! julio's response is actually quite appropriate, i personally think: it's not a wonder that you're unfocused bc you have been spending time a lot (which we've seen! on screen!) but also i don't want ban you from seeing him completely, just set some boundaries.

interestingly enough, this is also due to charlie overly focusing his efforts on keeping nick essentially perfectly safe in his coming out as well; unfortunately, in that final scene shown above, he's just realised that he's got no control over nick's coming outs being perfect, as david has shown to be very biphobic and dismissive of nick in a way that neither nick or charlie had any say in or could even prevent from happening. jane has the option of trying to control things because she's his mother and has some authority over his life.

jane disappears in the show after this issue of charlie handing in his course work gets resolved for a while, so it does seem like she very much keeps to her word afterwards.

she comes back in time for some growth. tori rightly mentions that the family dinner is not something that their mum would totally enjoy bc tori has seen the criticism jane has regarding nick. but charlie does know nick, feels emotionally safe with him, especially after their convo in the louvre and nick being open about his dad, so charlie is right in saying nick, as a person not the idea that jane has of him by association, might convince her.

and he does.

nick can be trusted; nick has come out to his neglectful parent, chastised his older brother for being an asshole, mentions he feels happy with his life with charlie and living openly as his boyfriend and apologises to his mother for ruining the dinner (a sign of a well mannered boy!). and when sarah tells jane that this is something that she's never seen nick do and that must be of nick's deep care for charlie, jane thinks..

and comes around (a bit).

unfortunately, her overt focus on charlie's grades slipping being due to nick's influence in his life completely makes her neglect the signs that charlie is not eating well (that's something that is building up so gradually that i don't think she sees it as an option). there are some great metas on here by @ finnicksannie regarding this being one of the biggest reasons why charlie's grades are actually slipping.

all in all, i just want to close by saying this is a deeply traumatised mother parenting a deeply traumatised son and they both need time and therapy for a better understanding of the communication between them.

and i think the end of season 2 sets up a nice storyline about that quite nicely. jane accepts nick in their circle, but her communication with charlie has not been resolved; it's just a little tick towards her needing to trust charlie more. he's got good instincts. she's starting to realise.

this is all not an excuse. it's a set up for a responsibility on jane's part to work to communicate with charlie better. but life is life. and we're humans. sometimes we need to learn to grow.

and in the mean time, in the small moments, maybe with what you would say is the bare minimum, with not agreeing with charlie's self deprecation, jane does show her love of her son.

i don't think it's without reason that this was shown.

--

i have not read the novel solitaire / nick & charlie / this winter. feel free to add in comments if there's something in there too! but i do feel the series might incorporate jane's storyline maybe a little bit differently than from in the books; but it sounds like her controlling behaviour is a throughline to it all.

[posletsvet]

A bunch of JJK season 2 headcanons:

(because I had nothing else to occupy my mind with while on a train trip)

Nanami has a few stomach problems, so he's very mindful about his diet. He eats bread on his cheat days. He also has mild lactose intolerance.

If there's anybody in the series with a 'my body is a holy temple' attitude, it has to be Gojo. He never smokes and rarely drinks because of that. Others used to make fun of him for 'being a princess with such delicate tastes', but he certainly did use it to his advantage by being insufferably annoying after parties/celebrations. He ended up not being invited.

Shoko smokes to wind down, so she sticks to some pleasant flavours. Her favourite ones are cherry and coffee, and she gets annoyed with tobacco shop workers for confusing the latter with chocolate.

During school Shoko carries around a handful of sugarless candy or gum to chew on in order to resist a tobacco craving. Gojo makes a habit of stealing a couple or more from her.

Geto smokes to numb his senses, so he usually goes for nasty foul things, nothing fancy at all. He also buys cheap cigarettes because he doesn't like the prospect of spending too much money on it. Once Shoko tried to snatch a cigarette from him, but ended up putting it out without finishing.

Geto actually hates the smell of cigarette smoke, so he has a separate set of clothes for this purpose. Gojo doesn't like it either, and he whines about it every single time Geto goes for a smoke because that means he can't hang out with him without smelling it.

Adults in Geto's life are usually fond of him, especially his past teachers, and his reputation of a model student is important to him. This is partly because his previous classmates tended to treat him as an outcast due to the rumors around him.

Haibara comes from a rural area and still has a great share of childlike wonder towards everything around him. He's more than excited to live in the capital city.

Haibara has a bunch of older siblings as well as a younger sister. By some miracle, he manages to get along with everyone. You guessed it: he is the miracle.

Utahime's hair tie is actually Shoko's gift.

Utahime's hairstyle was something that inspired Shoko to grow out her hair. She started by growing out her bangs. Before that, she had worn a bob haircut for as long as she could remember. Her mom insisted on it -- she thought longer hairstyle wouldn't suit her as her hair was rather thin. Turned out it wasn't true.

Shoko was raised by a single mom.

Nanami pierced his right ear, then backlashed by becoming too self-conscious about it and grew out his hair to hide the piercing.

Gojo is effortlessly good at everything he puts his mind to. When he started seriously studying chemistry in order to further improve his Limitless, he turned to Shoko for help, but then turned out to be a frustratingly quick learner. She would idly throw things at him for it.

Geto is a morning person to the marrow of his bone. His habit of getting up early stems from his childhood when he used to do so in order to get a few spare hours just for himself. He took to mindlessly cleaning up his room back then as well -- as a means to relax by organizing his life at least a little bit and feel in control of it.

Geto also cooks pretty well and is used to looking after himself. He's not that much of a foodie, though, and at some point of his life struggled with an eating disorder. He relapses during the Premature Death arc.

As someone who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Gojo doesn't know what household chores even are. After he takes Megumi and Tsumiki under his care, for quite some time it doesn't even occur to him that doing all the housework by themself isn't a normal childhood activity for an eight-year-old.

Gojo tries to give Geto a sweet tooth by being obnoxious about Geto having his drinks sugar-free and trying to sneak sugar in his beverages. It results in Geto gradually taking to drinking his tea/coffee with just one piece of sugar. Gojo thinks it's a win.

Gojo forgets to buy presents every single time. Untill he brings Geto and Shoko ridiculously expensive gifts that one time when they came to the decision they're not buying anything for each other this once due to low budget.

Gojo is an albino and has very sensitive skin. (That's why he was wearing a hoodie in Okinawa!!) Moreover, if it wasn't for the Six Eyes, he would have poor eyesight.

Geto's skin tans very quickly in the summer and he gets freckles easily. He ends up burrowing Satoru's sunscreen a lot.

Haibara is the only dog person of the group.

Shoko was involved in the jujutsu world from pretty early on since her technique is so rare and so valuable practically -- therefore her laid-back and nonchalant attitude.

Gojo has a severe case of being touch starved. He's constantly leaning in somebody's personal space and initiates touch a lot. Usually Geto doesn't mind it, but on bad days it rather unnerves him as he sometimes just needs his privacy.

Utahime used to chew on her lips when deep in thought or feeling nervous, and that made wearing lipstick a problem. She broke that habit after graduation as she started to gain confidence.

Geto and Utahime have the best handwriting among the group. Geto's is more graceful, swift with prolonged fine lines, and Utahime's is smaller, neat and round and with a lot of curves. Nanami's letters are refined and tidy, but somewhat formal as if it's typed rather than written. Shoko has pleasant handwriting as well, but she usually writes really fast and doesn't care whether it's nice to look at or not. She's got messy notes only she herself can navigate through. Haibara's writing is almost childish, big and legible and somehow brings to mind the image of a smile. Gojo's writing is like chicken scratch honestly. He couldn't care less and finds it funny when it's impossible to read.

Haibara more often than not forgets his lunch money. Nanami and Geto are usually the ones who share with him when it happens. Afterwards Gojo always demands that Geto share with him as well.

Last but not least: Gojo has migraines from time to time. He claims that laying his head in Geto's lap is the only thing that helps him.

[rabbithaver]

i finally decided to actually write out some of my major headcanons for Silver. i like him a lot as a character and i think people overlook him too much lmao

I genuinely believe that Silver has been decoupled from the timeline completely. This means that changes to the future made in the present do not affect him. He may not remember the specific events of 06, but he absolutely remembers growing up in an apocalypse and frequently has lines that support this in the comics. Him being unaffected by changes to the timeline explains why his personal history has not changed, despite the future being saved multiple times. ALSO, Ian Flynn has confirmed that Silver is not in control of when or how he travels through time -- I believe that whatever or whoever is sending him back and forth is the same thing that separated him from the timeline.

Silver is deaf, pushing about 70% hearing loss. It's not congenital -- his hearing sucks because he's from a timeline where things blew up constantly and he had no hearing protection. He relies mostly on lip-reading and guesswork, but wants to learn ASL when he gets a chance... if he gets the chance. Time is wibbly-wobbly for him. (I should note that this one is personal to me -- I myself am HoH due to otosclerosis and I'm definitely projecting my declining hearing on him lmao)

I know Silver is canonically the exact same height and weight as Shadow and Silver, but I personally don't find that very... likely. All three of these dudes are 3'3" and 77lbs EXACTLY? Nah. Shadow and Sonic, maybe, but not Silver. I headcanon Silver as being smaller and lighter than the other hedgehogs because he grew up in a timeline where food was hard to find, and thus didn't grow as much. He's very scrawny and basically has almost no meat on his bones, but you'd never guess because he's got The Fluff.

Elaborating on the food thing: his relationship with eating is probably totally screwed. Think about it: he spent his whole youth eating whatever he could get his hands on, and he probably had to eat as quickly as he could so he could stay on the move. The idea of eating to enjoy the flavor is like, completely alien to him. He also tends to stash food away for later, as he's not used to knowing when his next meal will be. He does it entirely out of habit, even when food is abundant.

Silver's immune system probably sucks. Every time he goes back to the past, he catches some illness. This is largely because he's not used to the pathogens 200 years earlier, but I also like to imagine this is because he's got some sort of autoimmune disorder.

You cannot tell me this boy does not have asthma. I am aware that this is kind of a fandom in-joke, but it makes total sense. If he grew up in a world of smoke and flames, his lungs probably look like burnt toast. Someone get him an inhaler please.

Silver has PTSD and severe anxiety, both due to his personal history growing up in a hellscape and also because repeatedly going back to the future to find his time in disarray due to events in the present is probably traumatic as all hell. His biggest trigger is most likely building collapse, but I can't imagine he doesn't have kind of a hard time with explosions after the Eggman War. His cheerful optimism and helpful attitude is his effort to deflect from his trauma.

Expanding on the anxiety thing; Silver struggles when he doesn't have something to do. We actually see this in canon in the 2022 Annual story "Future Growth." He has no idea how to function when he doesn't have a mission to focus on. Being in the past with no clear directive is insanely triggering for him and he totally fails to cope.

While I'm talking about his mental illnesses, I want to make it explicitly clear: he is REALLY good at hiding this stuff. His friends in the Resistance/Restoration don't find out about his issues for years, and this is specifically because he instinctually hides anything that could be perceived as a weakness. He's been conditioned to hide any and all weaknesses because it was the only way to survive in the post-apocalypse. Being visibly affected by your trauma is a quick and easy way to get dead, so he simply... doesn't. This kid cannot stop masking his trauma at all until he's literally at his breaking point.

There is no way he doesn't have intense Survivors' Guilt. Going back to the Metal Virus arc in the comics, he's the only survivor of a shuttle crash in Issue #25. All of those people died. They actually died - if they were zombots, they would've survived that crash, but because they were still healthy, they didn't have the ability to recover. Silver probably feels that because he was trying so hard to get survivors to the shuttle, he led those people to their deaths. I specifically am pointing to his dialogue here as evidence of this:

He probably dreads going back to the future. Like, think about it. He's admitted to being lonely (IDW #8) in his own time -- probably because his history separates him from the average person! The only friends he really has are in the past, the vast majority of whom are likely long dead by the time he's born. And while his friends are always happy to see him, I can imagine he has a lot of anxiety thinking about the fact that they inevitably start to associate his arrival with something bad coming down the line. That's rough, buddy.

He's very proud of his ruff and he takes really good care of it. It's super thick and very soft. However, when he's having a rough time, he's not as thorough, and it tends to show. If you know him really well, you can get an idea of his current mental health just by looking at the state of his chest fur. A happy Silver is fluffy, a struggling Silver looks like he was left in the washing machine.

Silver has a really hard time with media that involves apocalyptic worlds. He knows that it's just fiction, but it reminds him of the fact that he's the only one who remembers the apocalyptic hellscape he grew up in. It reminds him that as much as his friends want to support him, they can't truly understand what he's been through; his background is only real to him. It just leaves him feeling lonely and sad, so he avoids it as much as possible.

Silver doesn't sleep well in real beds. Maybe it's just a lifetime of growing up surrounded by an apocalypse, but he has a really hard time getting comfortable in a real bed. For months during the Eggman War, he'd spend hours tossing and turning before finally giving up and curling up on the floor in a corner. It's just not what he's used to at all.

anyway i think about him a normal amount :)

[fatphobiabusters]

I was a bit curious if anyone here had seen this study and their thoughts on it. The results of it seem questionable to me. Although I do agree with him that the BMI is bull.

https://www.colorado.edu/today/2023/02/23/excess-weight-obesity-more-deadly-previously-believed

Firstly health doesn't equal worth or morals, always worth saying that.

On a quick review I can't say that he's taken into the account the damage of yo yo dieting. Those who are naturally lower BMI have no reason to put their bodies through the damage of a diet over and over whereas higher BMI people are harassed into.

I can't access the whole original paper, however "The statistical analysis of nearly 18,000 people also shines a light on the pitfalls of using body mass index (BMI) to study health outcomes," 18,000? Where are these people from? what's their diet history? did the higher BMI people have surgeries for weight loss?

"Masters mined the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey (NHANES) from 1988 to 2015, looking at data from 17,784 people, including 4,468 deaths.

He discovered that a full 20% of the sample characterized as “healthy” weight had been in the overweight or obese category in the decade prior. When set apart, this group had a substantially worse health profile than those in the category whose weight had been stable. "

Weight loss does damage to your body??? Also "decade prior" how did these people lose weight because 10 years is ASTOUNDING to not have regained weight. Unless of course they were permanently on their diet which is, again, DAMAGING.

"Meanwhile, 37% of those characterized as overweight and 60% of those with obese BMI had been at lower BMIs in the decade prior. Notably, those who had only recently gained weight had better health profiles." The idea that people have natural ideal weights kind of leads to this. Your weight will fluctuate as you age and if your ideal weight goes up then its healthiest at that weight.

"Contrary to previous research, the study found no significant mortality risk increases for the “underweight” category." My first thought is does this include people who qualify for a DSM 5 diagnosis for anorexia? (This means they have weight loss, yes weight loss is required by the book don't get me started) 1 in 100 girls are estimated to struggle with anorexia alone. Are these people removed from the underweight category because they recently lost weight ??? How does that make sense! DIETING CAUSES DAMAGE, EATING DISORDERS CAUSE DAMAGE.

So my impression of this is its great at further proving BMI is crap at health but unless you account for the damage dieting does to a body you cannot say these statistics exist in a vaccum. It's astounding that in 2024 we are still accepting half the picture of weight analysis and statistics. Fat bodies don't just exist, we get pressured to do damaging and terrifying things to our body, we get our health ignored for weight first treatment.

Is our health really that bad or are there these other factors preventing equality in care?

Like in Sweden they left obese patients to die during COVID. Or having treatment stop over weight gain fears.

Or the time they decided polluting water because fat people drink it was okay.

So I guess my tldr is, this isn't saying what people might think it's saying. At least not as presented in this article. This really just proves weight loss is bad imo.

-mod squirrel

[tobeabatman]

The most common eating disorder

Obviously a trigger warning for eating disorder discussion:

The most common eating disorder, I ask. Anorexia, you think. Maybe even bulimia.

This is the question that even my biology teacher didn’t answer correctly a year back. And I get it: our society is very loud about anorexia and its dangers. Sometimes even (shamefully so) jealous of them.

But for this eating disorder, you’ve probably laughed at its patients on TV. Why wouldn’t you?

The eating disorder I’m talking about is (not obvious to many) binge eating disorder (or BED), of course. It’s the leading eating disorder, by almost 50%.

It’a bulimia’s sister: the shameful disorder we don’t even consider a disorder. The disorder, where you binge but don’t compensate. The eating disorder that was (incorrectly) named as the fat person’s eating disorder in my school health textbook.

And as you may or may not have guessed, I have binge eating disorder. And I’m also fat (no shame with that). Which means that for years I just thought that binging was a personal fault, maybe even a sugar “addiction” (side note: not all researchers agree that you can get addicted to food or sugar in addiction’s literal sense).

Because binging is associated with ”morbid obesity” in television shows such as My 600 lb Life (without the show ever discussing binge eating disorder, or treating it in participants that exhibit symptoms) people have a very prominent lack of knowledge on binge eating disorder. I know someone who laughed at a My 600lb Life (out of fatphobia and moral superiority) participant, even though they likely had binge eating disorder, (and laughing at people just because they’re fat, is pretty fucking disgusting. This ignorance towards binge eating disorder results in the lack of treatment for patients with binge eating disorder. I have had binge eating disorder pretty much my whole life. My parents recognized that my eating habits were abnormal before I even started school, yet they started restricting me instead of doing research or taking me to a health professional. (And that’s another thing with eating disorders: people think that they start at teenagehood. But they can start at any point of life. Disordered eating can be prominent in babies too. My eating disorder started because my parents had a particular way of teaching me and my siblings to eat: by threatening (which has lately been researched to cause binging in small kids).)

Later my school nurse (throughout ages 7-12), instead of clocking that I had binge eating disorder, asked me to monitor my weight for a month (I was slightly overweight, nothing concerning). I’m glad my mom prevented me from doing it, because monitoring my weight at 10 years old would have just added a new problematic aspect to my eating disorder (yay! /s). The last things I wanna clear up:

Not all fat people have BED.

Thin people can also have BED.

People with eating disorders are most likely to be fat, not thin.

Although not all fat people have BED, a lot of BED patients are fat (not all, though).

BED is the most common eating disorder, making up about half of all eating disorder cases.

BED is often ignored as just a quirk fat people have. This leads to:

A) Fat people not getting diagnosed as we feel like binging is our own fault and something that we are just doomed with (as society expects us to binge).

B) Thin people not getting diagnosed, as thin people aren’t socially expected to have problems with binging food (because it’s associated with fatness). Binging food is also socially more accepted when done by thin people, so people will not take a thin person’s binging as an actual problem (because at least they’re not fat).

7. Don’t assume that someone with any eating disorder, but especially fat people with binge eating disorder or bulimia, want to lose weight. I don’t want to be skinny: fat people are a marginalized identity, and I’m not going to lose weight just because the world bullies me if I don’t. (Read Unshrinking by Kate Manne).

8. This is not medical advice. This is a post that’s meant to make people aware of binge eating disorder’s existence. I’m not a medical professional, and everything in this post is my opinion as someone who’s both fat and has BED. You guys can always correct me if I talk out of my ass, as well.

I also hope that the physical effects of binge eating disorder get researched more. We know that anorexia might cause osteoporosis and bulimia might cause harm to teeth enamel. Meanwhile the only information like this we get for binge eating disorder is that people with BED will get type 2 diabetes because we are fat (which is a questionable piece of information to begin with. How do we know type 2 diabetes is the cause of fatness, and not the other way? And diabetes is not caused by binge eating: there’s just a correlation between binging, being fat, and type 2 diabetes. And not all people with BED are fat anyway).

I probably forgot something. Oh well.

[jihyoruri]

okay I NEED to talk abt this bc richgirlyn is literally me FORREAL 

so uhh not the analysis I thought I’d be doing but I need to. the other one will be later 

ok tw for eds I guess like this is the entire analysis 

disclaimer. this is all my interpretation as well as my experience. I’ve had an issues w eating since 8 (almost twins!) and it’s been literal years. this is just what I think based on what I’VE seen and done as a girl. I know men can have ed’s but I will be talking abt it from my standpoint, which is hashtag girl. everyone’s experience is different.

key: ana=anorexia, ed=eating disorder 

Ive never dealt with real bulimia so take whatever I say with a grain of salt

okay. here’s why richgirlyn having an ed, specifically how she develops ana as she gets older makes a lot of sense (Ive had a fixation on eds and the way they affect the mind for so long..)

i feel like people forget just how genuinely maddening have an eating disorder is.

most of the time in movies they’re there for laughs and portrayed as “oh she just kinda throws up!”  (heathers, the musical) or “oh she wants to be skinny so bad she js doesn’t eat!” (mean girls) (I love both of them btw they’re just what come to mind)

like that is not what they are like AT ALL

eating disorders are some of the most deadly mental illness there is and because it mostly affects teenage girls and women people literally treat it like something not that serious or a joke it’s actually insane how people do not gaf about it

so anyway.

I feel like if children have issues with food they always start out thinking of purging

it makes sense! if you don’t want calories, just get rid of them.

obviously, it doesn’t work that way, and purging doesn’t even actually work well LMAO most of the calories are absorbed unless u throw up like the second food enters ur mouth like it is not foolproof at all.

but to a child it makes sense. the food is gone so you can’t gain weight

and when you’re a kid your gag reflex is way more sensitive so it’s way easier to vomit. when you get older it’s so much harder

bulimia is not really possible long term for idols because of its side effects which are:

erosion of tooth enamel making them appear clear other than white

sunken in, bulging eyes

swollen cheeks

hair loss 

GERD

also for the fact it doesn’t really help much with not absorbing the calories + the fact that it affects the appearance, which idols need to be perfect, + the fact that it affects your voice, which idols need, and also throwing up is difficult 

much more common in idols is anorexia.

so! actually the side effects of ana aren’t as noticeable if you’re not restricting a lot! at about 700-800 calories max a day I didn’t experience hair loss or getting spots on my skin

It was mostly that I was just tired all the time and kind of irritable. i never experienced any physical effects other than losing weight (didn’t lose much muscle bc most of the cals were protein and I worked out everyday)

anyway

richgirlyn definitely likes control.

we can see how control has been taken from her time and time again— mostly by her dad, making all the decisions while she doesn’t get a say, and later, how her members and the people around her treat her.

eds are about control more than looks. It’s the one safety net, the one thing you can always be good at.

when everything around you is falling apart— you can control what you eat. it’s like an accomplishment. look how low I got the number! I’m so good at this! I’m so disciplined!

It’s like. “no one could ever get as low as me”. It makes you weirdly competitive 

and obviously there’s pressure to be skinny as a trainee. It’s what half of your self worth is based on. so if you can control that? and punish yourself (because as we’ve discussed richgirlyn does NAWT like herself that much) while you’re at it? It’s literally gold

she practices and practices, trying to be good enough, the best, and she doesn’t want to eat. eating is kind of like admitting defeat and saying you’re weak and giving in to the need to have food. 

oh and y’all don’t KNOW what mommy issues do with an ed like.

if losing weight makes someone PROUD? oh you KNOW you’re dropping to size 0 trust like it’s actually insane. I can’t even explain the real insanity that comes with an ed it makes you actually crazy. you start becoming afraid of certain numbers because they look bigger even if it’s not how it works. ex: it’s better to eat 98 cal than 50 because 98 feels “smaller” like it’s CRAZY. the state of mind you have when you’re doing that is really seriously not normal like I know it’s obvious but people don’t GET IT. you become very obsessive and cagey over it like if you eat over a certain limit you will literally either break down or get up and go work out until you think you’re back under and the guilt eats you up inside. richgirlyn is SAUR MEEEE FOR REAL

so ANYWAY richgirlyn having an ed makes sense. specifically ana.

she likes control, she wants something to feel proud about (along with her singing and dancing and rapping abilities), it’s something her mom’s PRAISED HER FOR so you already KNOW when her mom is like “wowww you’ve lost weight!” she is like I’m gonna get so much worse.

and also there has to be a part of her that wants someone to worry. i know she hates being seen as weak but I just know minjeong saying smth like “oh I wondered how u stay thin it’s cause u js don’t eat” made her feel so validated because it’s proof that she’s sick and she’s not okay and she’s not making it up.

I’m very sure her being well off has completely fucked with the idea of her being “allowed” to feel negative emotions. like “I’m rich, I shouldn’t be sad” but with any negative emotion.

and I know she was getting better until she got put in le sserafim I just KNOW especially CURRENTLY?

the stress of her members disliking her makes her feel worse abt her self making her want more control and also there’s this very fucked up part of it where it’s like. the less I eat and the less space I take up the more they’ll like me, they won’t hurt me if they think I’m sick and fragile and GODDD that’s so her. she wants to be strong so bad but sometimes.

anyway it’s 1 am this isn’t a great analysis maybe I’ll circle back to this but I needed to talk about it

I love richgirlyn she’s witerwally me 

-🎏

It’s crazy that everything you just said is so correct like completely correct when it comes to richgirl!yn’s problems.

and because this has been going on since she was ten it’s just a normal routine for her all that girl does is try her best to become better, and because she knows that her image is something that her mother actually pays attention about her, so it’s rlly important to her.

even now that she’s an idol she doesn’t talk to her mom but there’s times when her mom will call her and be like “you look a little different.” and then she’s completely back in that cycle

[bioethicists]

Your blog has gotten me interested in antipsychiatry as an extention of bodily autonomy - however, at least some disorders do seem to be clustered in a way that makes sense for troubleshooting if someone needs treatment. Like, reading the definition of depression as a teenager made me realize that it's not normal to want to die 24/7, and that I should probably talk to a therapist. I don't know exactly where I'm going with this tbh, but I guess I think that some (at least my own) psychiatric disorders make sense and are pretty common ways that people can suffer?

yeah, i think it's pretty important to distinguish between diagnostics as a form of loose categorization (for example, i find ocd + anorexia both to be useful shorthand for experiences i have + share w/ many others) and diagnostics as a prescriptive form of Assigning Illness (such as the DSM). the experiences of ppl with depression are real + often similar to one another + it's extremely useful to have a culturally recognized term that summarizes a lot of painful experiences.

it's when those shorthand descriptions become prescriptive rather than descriptive (e.h you feel x way BECAUSE you have depression, not that you have depression BECAUSE you feel x way), medicalized (e.g this is because you are Sick, this must be Cured, this has a definitive biomedical cause), or alienated (e.g this experience sets you distinctly apart from Normal people, who have Healthy thoughts + brains).

even when you say thinking those things is not 'normal'- sure, most ppl probably don't- but is the concern that it's 'abnormal' or that it's making you miserable? what if everyone else DID feel the same way- would that mean you don't deserve relief from it? one of the biggest flaws in psych diagnostics is that it relies on the assumption that these experiences need to be stopped (and Stopped is usually their ideal goal, though they will settle for mitigated or reduced) not because they are painful but because they are 'abnormal' or 'disruptive' (often to functioning within systems which are inherently unjust like school, work, maintaining housing, etc). the concern is not suffering, but abnormality (with the assumption that there is even such a thing as a Normal Person).

take, for example, my dx of anorexia- when i experience torturous thoughts of hating my body, obsessing over what i eat, obsessing over if other ppl are judging me for what i eat, obsessing over my weight, etc, it is diagnosed as pathology. when a fat person experiences this, they are very, very often validated in these emotions because they are Supposed To feel that way according to fatphobic medicine + cultural norms. while tides are shifting in this regard, this was not just a silly little oversight of the anorexia dx but built in, because the assumption built in to psychiatric diagnostics is that extreme body hatred is only pathological if it's 'irrational'- if you are supposed to hate your body, as determined by norms, then you are 'normal' + there is no 'dysmorphia' present, therefore no care or concern.

in general, i think most systems of categorizing ppl fall apart + become harmful when they fail to recognize themselves as roughly constructed shorthand ways of describing deeply complex experiences- gender, sex, race, diagnosis (this gets foggier in certain medical diagnoses but still stands for the majority of them), identity in general rlly. but if we can see them for what they are- (fallible + limited) things we created to describe ourselves, not objects within us which control our behavior + thoughts, they are immensely useful for many.

[semyas-ii]

Simon said "it's gonna be fine" but Simon, what do you mean it's gonna be fine? Sure, if you cram Fionna and Cake back into your skull and turn into IK then their world will turn magical again I guess? But then I thought, IK is still gonna be stuck in this dead world with Jerry and some microbes I guess, isn't IK just gonna either starve to death or get killed by the Lich or something? I guess maybe the Lich wouldn't have killed him like he didn't kill BMO cause what's the point, and maybe IK doesn't need to eat but is sustained by magic which would make sense I guess cause I feel like he wouldn't have remembered to feed himself very well so maybe Simon not eating very much now is also related to that and purely a depression/eating disorder thing but now I think I'm over thinking it. My point is, if IK dies won't Fionna and Cake's universe go with him? Why did he think that it would be fine?

[stardiveatnight]

Okay so a few hours have passed since I watched season 3 and I want to collect my thoughts

(Also it is 9am and I haven‘t slept so bear with me)

First of all I wanna say that the performances were amazing. I rewatched the scene where Wille confronts his parents at least ten times because it‘s just so intense and I love Edvin‘s performance in it.

I‘m glad Micke returned, but I‘m also glad that there won’t seem to be a happy ending for him. I felt like Sara‘s and Simon‘s relationship with him needed a bit more exploring and closure and I felt like they did what they could do with the limited amount of time and so many plots to wrap up.

While I felt like the first three episodes were quite slow, it all paid off in episode 5. Such a good episode, I can’t say it enough!

Never thought about Rosh and Stella being a thing but, even though I know they won‘t actually end up together, I quite enjoyed seeing them together.

I found the revelation about the hazing and all that very interesting and didn’t see Erik making a comeback like that at all. But it fits the theme and makes sense, because if everything is not as it seems, then so is Erik. Also, it added depth to not only August, but in my opinion to Nils and Vincent as well.

I very much enjoyed watching Felice‘s struggle with getting over Sara, because I‘m pretty sure we all can relate to that pain and it felt refreshing having it dealt with in such depth.

Simon and Wille being happy together! Being out in public!! That was nice to see, albeit short.

I reblogged a post about this too, but I loved that some of the more heavier subjects were finally addressed out loud. It felt so satisfying to watch after all that buildup and hinting in seasons 1 & 2 (e.g. the racism Felice deals, I really liked her talk with her dad, August‘s eating disorder, and probably other things that my sleep deprived brain cannot think of right now)

I don‘t understand the problems people have with Simon and Wille, or especially Simon‘s behavior at the end of episode 5. I feel like it was pretty careless and ignorant of the palace to expect Wille to explain Simon all the rules he will have to follow now that their relationship is public, and for Simon to follow them all without batting an eye. I mean, he is 17 after all, idk what they were thinking. And to me, it was pretty clear that Simon was anything but happy in their relationship, especially after realizing that due to Wille being a prince, his needs will always somehow mean a little more, have priority, etc. etc., and Simon will have to get used to having to take a step back more times than not. I totally get not being okay with that, and I‘m not trying to say that Wille‘s problems especially towards the end of the season are not bad or valid — they definitely are. But I don‘t think we can fault a 17 year old who is being thrust into this world he doesn’t understand and that is not welcoming to him without any help by his side to think that maybe, this is not the life for him. I guess he could have waited until after his birthday? But that’s just me.

My heart is breaking for Wille, though. He really cannot catch a break, but I was surprised to see that he was seemingly on board with being the crown prince again. I guess anything as long as August doesn’t get what he wants.

I do have to say though, I did not like the music as much as I did in the other seasons. It was alright, and I‘m excited to see whether there‘ll be another iconic song at the end of episode 6.

I mentioned it earlier, but I felt like episodes 1-3 were a little bit slow. I understand why, but at times it was a bit dragging.

I‘m very curious to see how they are going to wrap everything up in the last episode. It sure is a lot for just one more episode, but we‘ll see! I‘m optimistic it‘ll be great.

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 52. retraining.

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse (including sterilization) and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. themes relating to abuse of power/authority and immoral interrogation tactics including SA (with brief depictions.) evil!Tony Stark.

[Steve]

"Tell me, Mr. Rogers," the kind young lady had said as she sat beside me in one of the light brown armchairs in the living room, holding a small notepad on her lap where she was jotting down points from our first discussion together.

"You can call me Steve," I had interjected at that point, causing her to look up for a moment and smile. Her eyes shined with a certain gentleness through their soft shades of grey and blue, helping me to relax ever so slightly through the daunting interview.

"Steve," she corrected, nodding politely. "Tell me, Steve, what are your biggest worries for Willa? Or what are the challenges you find most serious when it comes to her emotional and behavioral wellbeing?"

"Oh god," I had said, shaking my head at the overwhelming question. "I... I don't even know where to begin. I mean... she's just been through so much. And even though she's been out of captivity for a decent amount of time, she still functions as if she's in constant danger. I just don't know how to show her that she's safe, that she can let her walls down now and let me take care of her."

"That makes sense," Jenny had said, scribbling down a few more lines on her notepad. "I'm planning on completing a proper set of evaluations to offer a clinical diagnosis, but from what I've already spoken with Dr. Banner about, my best guess is that she's probably developed a severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder. Given the nature of the trauma she endured, it'll likely take a lot of time and therapy to help her overcome some of the emotional barriers she's built up as defense mechanisms."

"Yeah, that's what I figured," I had mumbled.

"Do you have any idea of where you'd like to start? Because she is so young, and you're her primary caregiver, I'd like to involve you as much as possible in her treatment as long as you feel comfortable participating."

"Of course," I had agreed, "I want to do whatever I can to help. And as far as where to begin... I'm not sure. I think the thing I worry about the most at the moment is Willa's inability to accept help. There have been several occasions where she's hurt herself or gotten herself into a situation where she's needed assistance, but she's just been too terrified of coming to me for help to actually let me know. And when I've realized it and tried to help her, she's resisted me as much as she could. I'm not exactly sure where her fear comes from, but I'm assuming it's rooted in what Hydra did to her and how they must've trained her to not ever ask for things." After pausing for a moment, I had added, "I mean, I guess it's not even just asking for help. It's really asking for anything. If I try to get her opinion on something, or ask her what she wants to do for the day, she'll clearly be thinking of an answer, but completely unwilling to share it at all."

"That does sound very problematic," Jenny had nodded, "even though she's trying her best not to be. It makes me think of a few specific documents I read out of her files from Hydra; they were recordings of training sessions she went through that had originally been written in another language, so Dr. Banner wasn't able to understand them. After running them through a translator, they revealed that when she was a toddler, her captors had put her through electric shock treatment to train her to not seek help or comfort." My heart had dropped into the pit of my stomach when she revealed this, but I simply nodded, sensing she had more to share. "They would put a shock collar on her, similar to one that might be used on a dog, and set her on the floor. A few feet away, they would place something she might have wanted. Sometimes it was food, after they had starved her for days. Other times, it was a person. Initially, her instincts would drive her to approach another human in hopes of being held or interacted with, as children that small naturally need and seek affection. But as soon as she would move towards them, or the food, or whatever it was she was being trained with, she would be electrocuted through the neck. Eventually, this changed the fundamental patterns in her brain so that she would no longer pursue things she wanted or needed. They continued the treatment until she would cower back in fear as soon as the food was placed down on the floor."

"Oh my god," I had breathed out, angry tears built up in the back of my eyes. "And she was just a toddler?"

"I believe the training began when she was two," the doctor replied. A sick, nauseous feeling bubbled up in my stomach as I processed the information I had been given. No wonder why she never asks for help, never asks for anything, for that matter, I had thought to myself. "It wouldn't surprise me if as soon as she's offered help or faced with having to ask for things now, she's automatically reminded of her experiences and even still physically feels what her body was put through during that training. Even though concrete memories aren't generally formed during toddlerhood, the body simply has fascinating ways of remembering traumas from any age."

"My poor Willa," I had mumbled in defeat, absolutely disgusted by what Hydra had put her through. "Now I feel bad for not being more patient with her; I had no idea something that horrific had happened to make her afraid of me in that way. How do we- how can I help her? How can I show her that it's safe now, that she won't ever be put through anything like that again?"

"Well, it's going to be a long process," Jenny had admitted. "But what I can tell you is that every time she experiences something that contradicts her past experiences, her brain is relearning the ways of the world. This process is called 'reparenting'; I am assuming Dr. Banner might have mentioned it to you?" I nodded, having recognized the term. "It's going to be very hard and very frightening for her for a long time. And the fear might never go away completely. But eventually, little by little, she should start building up more confidence in her safety with you. The most important thing will be for you to always be as patient and gentle with her as you can, as this is what her brain will be replacing all of her previous experiences with."

"Okay, that makes sense," I had said. "How do I start? What can I do?"

"There are some exercises you can run through with her; they're similar to exposure therapy, but more trauma-centered and focused directly on reparenting. I'll give her a simple one today at the end of our session together, something that hopefully won't feel like too much to start out with. I'll let you run it with her, just the two of you, and next time we meet, we can discuss how it went."

"Alright. An exercise?" I had asked, not completely understanding what she meant.

"I'll just give her something to ask you for. If you'd like, you can initiate it with her after I leave so that she doesn't have the pressure of bringing it up herself." I nodded, the idea making sense as something that might help slowly easing her into growing more comfortable with advocating for herself.

"Great. I'll be sure to do it with her then," I had promised the doctor.

Which brings me to this moment, in which Willa is standing before me, her big green eyes filled with tears as she stares at the hard-wood floor beneath her bare feet, her bottom lip trembling violently as she attempts to swallow down her fear. Jenny left about an hour ago, and I was sure to give the little girl a bit of time to recover and breathe before deciding to bring up the exercise with her. Just moments ago, I called her into the kitchen, and as soon as I told her I wanted to try the exposure, as the doctor had called it, her mood went completely out the window.

"Sweetheart," I say as I kneel down just a few feet away from the shaking child, keeping my voice as soft and unintimidating as I can. "Remember when Jenny talked to you today about trying to ask Daddy for something? Did she talk to you about that?" I remind her. Not daring to look up at me, the little girl's terrified body language immediately gives away the answer to my (probably pointless) question. "Hey, Willa-bug," I murmur, an image popping up in my head of the poor child's neck wrapped in an electric collar, helping me maintain the gentle disposition I need. "It's okay, peanut; you can do it. You can always ask Daddy for things, okay? You'll never be in trouble for it, never ever," I promise, but unsurprisingly, my words seem to do little to change her mind.

"P-please," the poor thing whimpers, the word seeming to be her go-to plea when she's too afraid to say much of anything else.

"'Please' what, baby?" I coo, hating to see her so distraught. "There's no need for 'please's with me, sweetheart," I remind her carefully, "there's no scary here, Willa. No scary at all."

"Please, please don't," she begs, a single tear trailing down to the tip of her rosy nose as she sniffles quietly. "Jenny said you-... you're gonna retrain me; please don't g-get the collar, please don't."

"Retrain you?" I ask, my brow furrowing immediately in concern. "Willa, sweetheart, did she explain to you what that means? It's not the same kind of training you did with Hydra, honey. It's retraining your brain to not be scared of- hey, sweetheart, hey," I hum, only growing more worried as the little girl's chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly, her panic clearly escalating despite my efforts to reassure her.

"P-please, please don't," she hiccups again fearfully.

"There's no collar, Willa. We don't do that here, of course we don't. The retraining just means we're gonna show you it's safe, doll. The whole point of the exposure is to teach your brain that it's safe."

"N-no collar, please no c-collar," she mumbles.

"No collar," I coo, "can you ask me, sweetheart? Nobody's gonna put a collar on you; you're just gonna ask and it's gonna be safe for you, I promise."

Sucking in a shaky breath, Willa squeezes her eyes shut, taking a long pause before finally finding the courage to say, "W-will you-... please... c-can-... Willa and Daddy-... Willa and D-Daddy-..." Sniffling, she gasps for another breath before finishing, "you-... I-I-... snuggles?" Silent sobs begin wracking through the little child's body as she waits in anticipation, her entire body tensed up and ready to receive whatever punishment is coming.

But against her predictions, I simply wrap the small girl up in my arms warmly, lifting her into the air as I rise to my feet and cradle her close to my chest. Rocking her back and forth as I begin to brush her hair down gently with my hand, I murmur soothing words to the child. "Shhh," I ease, coaxing her head softly against my shoulder as I hold her safely, her whole body shaking as I grant her request. "Of course we can snuggle, Willa-bug. You're my snuggle bear, after all; aren't you?" I croon gently, my quiet words of comfort slowly beginning to help her relax. "Here, how about we cuddle up in Daddy's bed? It's the biggest one in the house," I suggest as I carry the sweet girl back through the apartment to my bedroom, walking over and pulling back the blankets and sheets atop the mattress.

"D-Daddy's bed," Willa stutters quietly as I climb in with her still cradled closely to me, resting back against the pillows and pulling the soft blankets up over us as she snuggles warmly into my chest. "Big."

"Big bed, that's right," I agree. "Lots of space to snuggle."

"N-no collar," she says carefully, the fear almost completely gone from her voice.

"No collar," I confirm, brushing back her hair with a soothing hand as one of her thumbs finds its way into her mouth. "No collar ever, sweetie. I promise you; I pinky promise." Wrapping my little finger around her own, I lean down, planting a kiss on her head.

"Scratchy pinky p'omise," she tells me at the gentle roughness of my beard grazing over her bare skin. Looking up at me with wide eyes, I'm able to relax slightly as I see a hint of playfulness shining in the little girl's gaze.

"Scratchy, huh? You don't like Daddy's new beard?" I raise my eyebrow in jest.

"No, still like it," she assures me, rubbing her little forehead against the coarse hair lovingly. "Daddy looks so han'some. Bucky told me- m-my daddy's the mos' han'some man in the world."

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[bunnyloaves]

thinking about the gay cannibalism media and by that i mean ravenous and the terror

like imo thats what sets the terror apart from its gay people cannibalism peers (specifically ravenous 1999) cuz imo although both ravenous and terror use the cannibalism as colonialism themes. ravenous goes about it in the sense that the in-group consumes the out-group like its these white men subsisting on other, exploitable, people whom they can manipulate into being prey/livestock for them. And theres this distinct quality that some people are meant as livestock/food, while others get to become strong and virile like the cannibals tm. but the consumption goes as, the in-group (ur white men) consumes the out-group (ie. everything that gets munched down in the pursuit of manifest destiny, people, land, etc.)

im saying all this, with the idea that ur already on board with the concept that people will want to 'consume' things that make them uncomfortable, that threaten them, and by eating it. they mean to make that uncomfortable thing, tamed and subdued and co-opted into their own familiar mode of existence. and when people 'eat' the othered group, they offset their own 'monstrosity' onto the people they eat. (like when confronted by the fact that they are now savages who eat other people, they will soon project that savagery onto their victims to justify their culling/extermination of it).

and when i say out-group, i guess i mean it in a sense of people in positions of power, of agency, people with enough desire/drive to 'eat' and 'incorporate'. on the other hand when i say out-group, its more of the people who are 'subsisted on', utilized, and used.

ok anyways soo what i find neat about the terror is that the in-group eats their fellow in-group, like this is just one pool, one body of a bunch of white men with the (initial) goal of colonial exploits. like in my perspective they're this little unified, yet isolated body of "in-groups" stuck in this sad little barren place.

like when we're still at the pre-walk-out phase of the show, when rules and conduct were still firmly upheld, out main conflict is that of an in-group british franklin and out-group irish francis not being listened to (some people have have written about this wayy better than i could ever could, but ig there's this sense of not being given ur merit bc of ur own lowly birth but also being utilized as a tool of the society which scorns you yanno, like yeah francis might hate the posturing of being in the service but he's there nonetheless, and he's doing a pretty decent job of furthering its goals, despite him being prejudiced within its system too). same could be said for the class divides between the seamen and officers, with the officers being an in-group with power and the seamen, out-groups. ok point here is that the in-group/out-group divide exists between man to man, and the whole cast is still divided into their little in and out groups and social strata.

but this unravels later on, since just as they shed social mores and codes of conduct, the more that this rigidity is lost. the more these dudes just meld together imo. which imo is what transitions the terror from high adventure to horror, like when the in-groupness and out-groupness depended on ur status within the social hierarchies of white society and things could still (maybe be overcome with enough virtues n stuff)

but as things descend into disorder, and just as these dudes just meld together into one in-group. like in my brain, theres no longer that conflict of class or of being officers or not, everyones in scramble i want to live mode and theres no point in upholding that 'conduct' anymore. like they are similarly lost, desperate, n hungry (and that survival is the one conflict each of them is facing rn, which imo turns them into one 'in-group'). like all of them are similarly desperate to make it n live, even though yes this is the mutiny arc and there are distinctly two groups but imo this is one desperate body of men similarly trying to live (be it going home, surviving, or yeah integrating urself to the bear )

ok finally cannibalism points, its just so interesting to me that the people eating happens within the in-group, like yes they do totally exploit unassuming natives (knowingly and unknowingly) but the metaphor of it is expressed differently. like the conflict of cannibalism is posed between people who are 'like', and the way the show uses cannibalism isn't in the you eat someone you deem is less/and the eating is just another way to show the exploitativeness of it. but in the show, its more of you eat someone part of you.

ig my point is...ravenous is cannibalism media (eating someone u do not care about and ppl u wanna exploit) while the terror is like autocannibalism (they are eating away at themselves, like even though these men are different people, TO ME, thematically, they are one body and one agent of colonization)

like ig thats why in ravenous, the cannibal ppl at least relish in the act, but no one in the terror is happy about the eating

I MEAN THIS CAN BE TL:DR-ED AS: the difference between gastronomic cannibalism and survival cannibalism in tv, and why my gay meat shows utilized "eating" and "incorporation" so very differently from each other and i think thats just neat! :DD

[mythicalcoolkid]

This disability pride month I wanna talk a bit about some ways my autism presents, because I feel like I don't personally see it talked about in current autism settings. I guess maybe because it seems kind of "old-fashioned?" Like a more stereotyped view of autism, that gets discounted a bit now in favor of more nuanced and varied views. But people with "stereotypical" autism still exist and I wanted to talk a bit about what that looks like

I'm very hyposensitive. I have very poor interoception (sensing internal sensations). I have a few areas I'm more sensitive in, like smell and hot surfaces/water, but overall I'm really underresponsive. I often can't tell:

if I'm hungry (meaning I chronically undereat)

if I need to use the bathroom

whether I'm hot or cold: I often dress inappropriately for the weather and have health problems

what emotions I'm feeling

if I'm sick or hurt: I've had serious health problems go untreated for years because I didn't notice them

how much time has passed: I have alarms that go off every hour and sometimes every 15 minutes because I can't keep track of time

if someone touches me

the difference between some foods: a lot of different foods taste or smell the same to me. I've tried and cannot learn the taste difference between chicken, turkey, and pork

how much force I'm using: I often drop things or pet animals harder than I should

The only exception to these is food taste/texture. I have ARFID, an eating/feeding disorder that makes a lot of foods difficult to eat to the point that I go without food entirely

My "reality sensor" is broken. It's really hard for me to internalize "safety truths" and understand that they apply

I eat food when it's no longer good

I have a hard time "fearing" germs a healthy amount

I over- or underestimate risk

I massively underestimate how much time things will take

I have trouble recognizing certain things

I'm faceblind (prosopagnosia): I can't recognize people without memorizing certain traits

I have aphantasia: I cannot visualize things in my head, at all. (I can hear things in my head exceptionally well though!) Because of this I can't easily memorize images, give directions or "improvise" routes, follow maps, imitate visual actions, or do many visual puzzles

I usually don't recognize wordplay in titles because it doesn't register to me the same way

telling if someone is laughing or crying

picking up on non-obvious cues and sarcasm

understanding what's appropriate in different contexts

telling where sound is coming from

noticing smaller changes

I "look autistic"

I rock back and forth in public

have a notably flat voice and facial expressions or they don't match how I mean to come across

sit on the ground in stores

sometimes need AAC to communicate

have shutdowns where I'm fully unresponsive

use language that makes sense to me, but not others

have meltdowns when forced to change tasks early and extreme distress with life changes

had an extremely strict routine growing up and had meltdowns with self-injurious stims if anything deviated. Similar meltdowns from things not going the way I meant continued into my 20s

if my approach to something isn't working, I'll often try the same approach over and over, like looking in the same place for something repeatedly

All the "stereotypical" autism things. Even if autism doesn't actually look a certain way, there is a specific look people associate with autism and I fit it. I'm sure people have thought my partner was my carer and in some ways he is. When I was 16 I expected to be living in an independent living facility as an adult, and it's only because I got on proper meds for my comorbid disorders that I'm not

Anyway, there's probably more I'm not thinking of, but I wanted to talk about my experiences a bit because I think some people view them as maybe an outdated view instead of a way that people actually experience autism. I'm open to answering questions.

Happy disability pride month everyone!