#it was a very rough year for me mentally; but we survive.!!

[rhinoyo]

art summary time!! (prev. years) <3

[gatheringbones]

[“I want to spend a moment reflecting on exploitation: I’ve been eyed for social work since I was in my mid-teens. A racialized, mentally ill, gender queer youth, I was also remarkably articulate, psychologically precocious, eager to help and to please. The adult service providers whose orbit I floated in were quick to notice and take a shine to me—I was one of those once-in-a-blue-moon clients, the kind it feels both easy and rewarding to work with because I was so traumatized yet seemed to “improve” so quickly. The adults I trusted always seemed to want me in their empowerment initiatives, they were eager to put me on youth councils and committees, they gave me leadership roles despite the fact that I was in way over my head. I was brilliant and gifted, they said. I had so much to offer, they said. Helping was what I was made for.

I came to identify my worth with helping, my lovableness with how much I was able to give and please. It didn’t matter that most of my early jobs and roles involved some significant risks—for example, facilitating antihomophobia workshops in high schools as a high school student myself might have required a rather enormous amount of self-disclosure and vulnerability to strangers, but it was all for the cause, wasn’t it? And how proud my youth workers were whenever I came back from another successful outing. And if the honorariums they paid me were less than minimum wage, well, it was more money than I’d ever made before, wasn’t it? And how lucky was I to get paid to do something that did so much good for other people?

When I got to college age, I knew it was my purpose in life to help and heal other people. In my darker moments, it sort of seemed like that was all I was good for—and all the trusted adults, the wise youth workers and therapists and psychiatrists who mentored me, said I was gifted. They said I was special. My diversity made me fashionable. So “interesting” and “textured,” one psychotherapy supervisor called me. A wealthy white psychologist said I was an “ambassador for my people.” (She didn’t specify which people.) This was how, at twenty-two years old, I began an internship that involved doing therapy with adults who had survived childhood sexual trauma. Although I had no real clinical training, I held sessions for them at night in the windowless basement of a hospital in Montreal. I learned therapy techniques quickly, from videos on the internet and by practising on the job. People were counting me. I had to help.

Some quick number-crunching tells me that I gave over 4,000 hours of unpaid therapy in order to get to paid work as a clinician. By contrast, the very first sex work gig I got paid me $100 for some nude cuddling and a sloppy hand job that I completed in twenty minutes. I almost never think about that first gig now. I still dream about the stories my clients told me in that first unpaid therapy internship I took at twenty-two. Occasionally, I still cry, wondering how they are now, if I’d done enough to help them.

My social work experience isn’t every social worker’s experience, so I can’t claim to speak for the whole social work community. What I can say is that the people around me saw something useful and beautiful that they liked in me, so they took it and used it and I allowed it to happen because I wanted to feel loved and I didn’t think I really had choices. What I can say is that my sex work practice started out rough and frightening, but it blossomed into a decent learning experience and a business that paid me lots of cash up front, usually with no strings attached.”]

kai cheng thom, do you feel empowered in your job? and other questions therapists ask sex workers, from The Care We Dream Of: Liberatory & Transformative Justice Approaches to LGBTQ+ Health, edited by Zena Sharman, 2021

[turbulentscrawl]

Identity(V) Headcanons: Naib Subedar

yall know the drill ;) If you like how I write the characters, consider sending me a request or matchup!

I also don't really have the patience to sit on my posts for a few days and check for mistakes, so forgive my typos hahah

-Naib got into his line of work out of necessity, not desire. He has never enjoyed taking lives…but he is both very good at it and very professional about it. He’s survived so long, in part, by being good at compartmentalizing his emotions. Work is work, and life outside is not, and he’s somehow managed to separate the two without separating his mental state. Nevertheless, he’s a very different person when he’s on the job and he would prefer that his loved ones didn’t see that.

-Outside of work, Naib shares Norton’s sentiments of all life being created equal. Unlike Norton, however, he uses this as a motivation to protect people rather than concern himself with revenge. That’s not to say he won’t step in if someone is out of line, but he is primarily focused on contributing good to the world in his free time.

-That said, Naib’s moral compass has become a bit warped over the years. He does his best to be a good person, but at a certain point someone can have so much blood on them that it starts to color their vision. The opposite of rose-colored glasses, if you will. He is, however, an accurate and consistent judge of character, so he often thinks about his course-of-actions in the frame of ‘would my mother be proud of me for this?’ That helps a lot with any difficult decisions.

-Naib “gets along” with most people. Being rough around the edges as he is sometimes makes it difficult for people to tell where they stand with him, but in truth he’s very vocal when he doesn’t like someone. It generally takes someone intentionally and repeatedly antagonizing him before he starts to develop a negative opinion. Otherwise, he maintains politeness.

-He is very slow to let people in, however. Naib’s life is dangerous and fleeting, so even when he likes someone he’s hesitant to get close to them. Outside of the manor, he’s a genuine slow-burn sort. A real “we’ve known one another for years and I’ve liked you for almost as long but I wont let myself have you until it’s entirely too much to take and I initiate an explosive night of passion” sort. Inside the manor, though, I think it’s more of a “we take comfort where we can get it, and then it slowly becomes real” sort of thing.

-Used to being the man of the house, Naib has a habit of trying to speak on behalf of or otherwise handle people’s problems for them. Again, he’s a good judge of character, so he’s pretty accurate in gauging how people would want situations handled…but this can still cause tension with friends and partners who are more independent. And if you talk to him about wanting to handle something yourself? There’s a non-zero chance he’ll go behind your back and take care of it anyway.

-The best love languages for Naib are Gift Giving and Words of Affirmation! He likes receiving thoughtful gifts—specifically ones that help in his everyday life, or resolve an issue he’s having. (Even if that issue is just “I’m hungry” and you pick up some of his favorite snacks.) He also likes little trinkets that he can easily carry around to remind him of the giver when he travels. Naib also tends to give kind words the benefit of the doubt, so he accepts verbal affection without argument or doubt. Everything he does is for his loved ones, and he likes to know that he’s appreciated, loved, and missed when he’s gone. Letters are amazing too; he keeps every letter and picture he receives and treats them with as much care as possible.

-Naib could not be close with someone who has a problem with his work. He understands why they would, he himself is rather tired of it.... But he’s been doing this for too long and is in too deep to leave. He and his mother cannot afford for him to quit being a mercenary and take the time to try learning some other skill that may or may not keep food on the table as consistently. You don’t have to like his work, but it can’t be something you hound him about. If you don’t talk about it, neither will he, and you can both just pretend it doesn’t happen.

-He’s a walking garbage can. I mean it, he can and will eat anything provided to him. He has preferences of course, but after years of food insecurity and then subsequent years of service-provided meals, he’s learned to not be picky. He also never outgrew the habit of rationing and hiding food in case of emergencies, and is an avid believer in the 5-second rule because he dislikes wasting food.

-Because he eats so much--and in spite of having irregular sleep patterns—Naib always has a lot of energy. This is useful for work and matches but also shows itself in other ways…such as being a very animated conversationalist. (per the stageplay lol) It’s only obvious when he’s moderately comfortable, but Naib might legitimately be incapable of sitting still when he’s not on guard.

-He’s pretty bad at making jokes. His sense of humor came from his years in the service, surrounded by brothers-in-arms. As a result, his idea of good-natured joking is completely ragging on people. Norton is the main person in the manor who gets this, but it leaves most other people to wonder if they’re actually friends or if they hate one another.

[taylortruther]

I've been following the discourse on The Alcott, which I love, and I couldn't resist chiming in (long-time reader, first time sending an ask hehe). I agree a lot with everything that has been said, and even though The Alcott is canonically about Matt and his wife, I do think aspects of Taylor's dynamic with Joe towards the end inevitably bled into it.

In the song, The Alcott is a place sacred to the lovers bc it's where one of them runs off after a fight and the other one chases after them, and in the Alcott (could be a bar or cafe), they manage to reconcile. To me, "I get myself twisted in threads to meet you at The Alcott" is the charcater saying that he will do whatever is neccessary to meet his lover at this place of reconciliation in order to fix things after a fight, no matter how hard it might be, but in a way it's also the character saying that he will pick fights over silly things, as in having to do mental gymnastics ("get twisted in threads") to find something to fight over just to get the chance to meet her at the Alcott, bc even if the rs is going through a horrible rough patch where they're emotionally distanced from each other, causing a fight would force them to at least feel something towards the other and talk, and that is better than feeling nothing, even if the emotion is anger. He knows exactly where she will be bc that's where she retreats to when they fight ("I'd go to the corner in the back, where you'd always be"), and seeing her there reassures him that that's where she (and him) will continue to run to in the future: not away from each other, but to this place of reconciliation. She's "writing something about someone that used to be me [him]", which could be a way of saying that she's now writing about someone else that she might be falling in love with as she's falling out of love with him. However, to me it feels more like a reference to how in the last couple of years (see the Joe songs on Midnights) Taylor reverted to writing about the beginning of their rs, back when things were good and joyful, bc at the present things were very bad and she desperately wanted to get back to how good it once was; hence why she's writing about it. I agree that "the last thing you wanted" and "the first thing I do" is referring to saying "I love you"; the reason why it's the last thing she wants could be bc that's how he usually tries to fix his wrongs in an easy way and she's tired of him saying that but not actually making an effort with his actions, which I do think Joe was guilty of towards the end. Or, alternatively, it could be bc the charcater has fallen out of love with him and therefore doesn't want him to say "I love you" bc she can't truthfully say it back. "I tell you my problems, you tell me the truth" could also be in this context: he tries to apologize by telling her his issues, she tells him that the truth is she no longer loves him. In the context of Joever, however, imo it refers to Joe telling her all the problems he has with her excessive fame and the public attention on them that it implies etc, and Taylor being honest about how songwriting and performing are an essential part of who she is, and giving it up forever would be devastating to her. But that she would do it for him if it could save them.

The fact that he waits for her to look up makes me think that he's cautious bc she might still be angry and/or that he doesn't have the courage to initiate the apology, and instead waits for her to do it or tries figure out what to say that will earn her forgiveness. "How many times will I do this and you'll still believe?" shows that he knows he screwed up badly and has done so repeatedly, yet she still always forgives him bc that's how much she believes in their love and wants to fight for it. How long can the relationship withstand and survive his repeated offenses again and again though? (which goes back to "how long could we be a sad song till we were too far gone to bring back to life?").

"Tell me which side are you on" is very interesting in reference to the "you fire off missiles cos you hate yourself" in Renegade and the "I tried to be your bravest soldier, fighting in only your army, frontlines don't you ignore me" in YLM. She's saying "why are you fighting against me, when we're supposed to be fighting together? I'm not the enemy, I'm always on your side and fighting for you", yet he still (consciously or subconsciously) treated her like the enemy, blaming her for things that were completely out of her control and all the outside stuff that they thought was the cause of their rs problems, instead of being on her side and fighting for her too. He left her all alone on the frontlines and not only ignored her efforts but also contributed to the missiles fired her way. Will be very interesting if she further develops the Archer metaphor in TTPD, under the theme of "I had only arrows as defense from your angry missiles and your love bombs" or something akin.

"Have I become one of your problems?" seems like her conclusion to him telling her his problems: apparently, they all have to do with her/her career. Yet, she's clearly exhausted and drained by their fights, and desperately wants it to be easy for once, so she puts the blame on herself ("everything that's mine is a landmine"), knowing that her continued forgiveness and desire to love him could redeem and heal him but it could also very much enable him to keep hurting her ("did my love aid and abet you?").

Then, as the lovers sing "I'll ruin it all over for you" together, they're both accepting the blame for the fight equally, which is the ideal conflict resolution (but sadly, not at all how I think it went with Taylor and Joe towards the end).

The back and forth in the last chorus is particularly gut wrenching to me. In a way, it echos the desperate begging and pleading in the bridge of YLM, but in this case it's softer, more hopeful perhaps, and as you and anon said, it alludes to pain and pleasure (both emotional and sexual): she's telling him "go ahead, shit on my art and my job, rip it off me, set the terms and conditions you want ("read my sentence out loud"); anything to save our love" but there's also a darkness to this, where she would rather he use her for his own physical pleasure even when still mad at her bc that way he at least feels something for her, which is very 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 but it goes to back to how in the beginning of the song he says he will pick fights in order to at least make her feel something (anger/rage) towards him, instead of remaining in the coldness and disconnect in which they were before. Florence + The Machine's song "Dream Girl Evil" describes this type of dynamic very well imo (which is even more😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫), where sex is used as both a weapon during conflict and as a means of resolution. I do think this was the case with Taylor and Joe after their honeymoon phase (False God, Afterglow) and also towards the very end, hence the TTPD cover. During folkmore it seems like they had a couple of years where they learned to use their words to resolve arguments instead of resorting to sex, but unfortunately went back to that dynamic when the rs started to fall apart.

In this way, the metaphorical Alcott for Taylor and Joe was the bedroom ("you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis"): it became their sacred place of reconciliation. Their love, once a blessing, is now a curse, but a curse that she loves and cherishes bc it's theirs, it keeps them together, within this home (both physical and metaphorical) they have built together over the years; she sees no other option but loving him (as we know, Taylor thought she would die if she lost him). All of this is emulated in the beautiful yet vulnerable and almost sad way in which Taylor sings the last "back in love with you": in The Alcott, sacred place for the lovers, they reconcile and fall back in love with each other.

I didn't mean for this to turn into an essay but oh well 😅 those are my two (or twenty) cents. Would love to hear what you and the anons think! Also, I love reading your blog, your takes are brilliant :)

i don't have much to add, because i like just letting this interpretation just sit on its own! but i do love that your interpretation of the alcott being the bedroom fits in perfectly with the discussions we've been having the last 2-3 days.

other things i really liked here:

Will be very interesting if she further develops the Archer metaphor in TTPD, under the theme of "I had only arrows as defense from your angry missiles and your love bombs" or something akin.

me too!!! how will the combat theme she discusses so often evolve in ttpd?

also intrigued by this:

"Tell me which side are you on" is very interesting [...] She's saying "why are you fighting against me, when we're supposed to be fighting together? I'm not the enemy, I'm always on your side and fighting for you",

and:

Or, alternatively, it could be bc the charcater has fallen out of love with him and therefore doesn't want him to say "I love you" bc she can't truthfully say it back. "I tell you my problems, you tell me the truth" could also be in this context: he tries to apologize by telling her his issues, she tells him that the truth is she no longer loves him

this was my first take!

but what i've noticed is that everyone has a different opinion on which role taylor is occupying (the one going to the alcott and confessing, or the one receiving the confession.)

also, i feel the need to address this for the readers: no, we do not know which parts specifically that taylor wrote, and she did write this from the pov of matt berninger's wife. acknowledged!

[s0lairee]

USUALLY i keep the incoherent rambling to @xanyiaz's dms, but y’all know how i feel about vincent. so, here: roughly 2000 words of me talking abt him and the house of solaire.

(also, all non-art, original posts that i make, whether they’re just me keysmashing or me actually dissecting a video will now be tagged as #jo speaks <3)

(possibly incomprehensible) spoilers for “questioning the king” underneath (and a bit from sam’s latest vid). this isn’t really theorising, it’s more “jo analyzes fictional characters and cries”

first of all. CAN we get a round of applause for the voicing and the thumbnail. erik did such a good job - i wasn’t actually expecting a william vid since hedral has been mia for two years, but this was INSANE. erik’s voice is much softer than hedral’s (i think it’s because erik is used to voicing younger characters?) and it really adds to the tone of the video. also, the thumbnail is so perfectly in style with the summit thumbnails. everything is wonderful i just needed a moment for that.

anyways. i did not expect the video to go like this? i mean, everyone expected vincent to call william out for everything at some point, but dude, this caught me so off-guard. and in hindsight, it shouldn’t have. obviously the fandom paints (or painted, before the summit) william as the vamp dad, but he’s a king. he’s going to be political, pragmatic, and sometimes callous. callousness is why he survived. if he was as feeling as vincent is, he wouldn’t have survived his maker.

but like. i completely expected william to stand his ground against vincent’s criticism and mention how it was the right thing to do, but i thought eventually he’d give in and (at the very least) apologise. what i DIDN’T expect was for william:

to not do that.

to pretty much only apologise for keeping vincent out of the loop

to emphasise that this was what being a vampire prince entailed - this was what politics meant

and to GIVE HIM AN ULTIMATUM. it didn’t seem like one, but “if you’re one of us, that’s part of the deal” very much implies “be a solaire and do what is expected of you, or leave.”

i’m glad that vin and william, in some way, found a middle ground. but (as much as i was on will’s side this whole time bc vin always seemed too naive for the rough politics), vincent is right. william shouldn’t have given that burden only to porter. that’s one vampire against dozens that are at least centuries old. also, not to mention, vincent would NOT have trusted porter. can you imagine the mental strength it took vincent to not only hear porter out, but hear stuff that his maker was supposed to tell him from the one person he couldn’t stand? can you imagine how porter felt to be the messenger caught between these two??? and somehow, it’s worse when william doesn’t back down and just accept that vincent was right. he can excuse everything else as politics, but he can’t excuse this. and it’s so weird that he tried so hard to brush past that. 

also. william’s favouritism is incredibly obvious. it’s insane. like, this entire audio, he’s prioritising vincent (and lovely, to some extent). his literal first lines are him choosing to speak to vincent and lovely alone, when sam is RIGHT THERE. he refers to sam as samuel, being one of the only people who does that. he also took the time to explain himself to vincent, but to sam he just says “say what you will.” it gives the vibe of the older sibling that the parent knows will understand, and i know sam doesn’t care about the house like vincent does, but GOD it really rubs it in. i know there’s that convoluted father-son dynamic between vin and william, but william put the pack, their mates, sam and darlin’ into the firing line. porter only gave vincent and lovely an alibi. none of the others. this was the pack's first summit too. if sweetheart was caught eavesdropping, they would have been in SO much trouble. it’s pure dumb luck they escaped. 

also. my brain ran away here. but porter, who isn't will's progeny but acts like his dutiful son, doing whatever is asked of his king because he saved his life - porter, who can't help but feel slighted when after everything, william still fights to justify his actions to vincent (while porter understands). porter who watches (in his mind, at least) vincent throw all of that away for what's "morally right". porter who is faultlessly loyal but so goddamn alone. are you picking up what im putting down <3

^ going off on that, the different reactions (or possible reactions) to will’s ultimatum have me frothing at the mouth.

i want to say porter is fiercely loyal to william and the house but i do think a lot of it is desperation and his own version of “morally right”? like to porter, the right thing is listening to whatever his king - the man that took him in and saved his life - says. or it could be cowardice. if he doesn’t do what will wants him to do, he would have to leave the house… and where would he go? to treasure? imagine explaining this shit to them. he literally has no choice.

to sam, it's the practical, good thing, and it's almost political. and this way of thinking is easy for sam, since he's not really as loyal to the house as vincent is. in fact, he's almost completely detached. so sam's idea of what's right is that william should've considered vincent’s opinion too, or have some kind of counsel, because they were the people who were most directly in the firing line. so when william so self-assuredly says he isn't wrong, and won't ever be wrong... he lost sam. (sam also never outright got the choice to leave like vincent did. he still made the decision. he's, like, 100% gone.)

and to vincent, it's almost completely emotional. he had this responsibility for the summit thrust onto him suddenly after william shielded him from a lot during his growing up as a vampire. he had so much information kept from him by his maker, his family, and he had to put up with the one person william knew he couldn't put up with. he also almost lost his partner, his brother and his friends in the whole mess.

+ need to add that vincent is very, very emotional. throughout the whole summit, there wasn’t one time when he was able to go with the (albeit fucked up) flow. partly, this is who he is; someone who feels everything in extremes, and partly because william had shielded him from the worst of the vampire world for so, so long. this isn’t a positive or negative character trait: it’s just a trait, and something will should have considered. then again, if not vincent, who would host the summit? not sam. certainly not alexis. and porter couldn’t. 

(also, it’s precisely how emotional he is and how much importance he places on family that makes “a prince is supposed to answer to his king, not the other way around” STING.)

now the part that GUTTED me: the ultimatum, and why sam is most certainly leaving (and vincent might consider it, but GOD i fucking hope he doesn’t.)

erik has established both sam and darlin' as being completely self sufficient. like they've both expressed that they're better with each other, and that they've grown as people, but also they're not tied down by any obligations to anyone. darlin' may be fiercely protective of their pack and their identity as a wolf, but sam is heavily disconnected from the house. he might only be sticking around because of vincent, and those two are BROTHERS your honour. but like, he doesn't really feel anything emotional to them nor does he have an obligation to them, even as a vampire.

(especially as a vampire, a status he did not want and is going to give up some time in the future.)

but vincent has both emotional (and i wanna say political?) ties to the house. one, being turned saved his life. he didn't have the choice that lovely had, but he also doesn’t completely hate it like sam did (maybe bc he was unempowered before and the loss of power didn't hit as hard.) two, he's kinda reconciled with his status as a vampire prince. he really does love william. whatever relationship they have (had.) was good - there was some amount of trust there (that will broke now). 

and also, being a vampire allowed him to save lovely. vin and lovely are COMPLETELY devoted to each other. they've had one of the most dramatic changes together.

more than that, the solaire house is family to vin. like, at least in the context of lore and the channel, it has been such a massive part of his life. he introduced his partner to his maker. he took them to the summit. he has confided in them abt princely duties. the house is, for better or for worse, his family.

(also, william bringing out all of vincent’s worst memories right in front of lovely (who was also there for those memories) is so fucking insane. wh. every argument he made in this video is so so insane.) 

somehow, for all the analysing i'm doing, i can't predict lovely's emotions. i know they're gonna be angry in their own way: very soon after mastering their powers, they had it taken away from them; and very soon after being crowned in the house of solaire, they're watching it crumble.

will giving them an ultimatum felt very final. i know erik mentioned wanting to wrap up a few plotlines, and i’m totally ok with that (not . i need vincent. but i can make my peace w things) but if this is how it ends i will cry

in conclusion, will was fighting between politics and progeny. he tried, desperately, to have both. unfortunately, you can’t have both. fortunately, you can try to rebuild the relationship the choice broke. unfortunately, will didn’t do that. he wasn’t fair to a single person here. he still sees tasks and details as a privilege given to solaires, not something that is expected of him as vincent’s family.

most of erik’s plotlines have a theme, and this one seems to surround trust and choice and how the right thing isn’t always in black and white. so yeah it would fucking suck and i would bawl my ass off if vincent and lovely decide to leave the house …… i know it would be the right thing to do but also i wish porter could knock some sense into william or something. 

i would love to see that, actually. feels shakespearean.

[deerabigailhobbs]

This might have been asked before but why is Abigail Hobbs your all time favorite character?

Hello, thank you for the question! I've been asked this before in DMs but never in inbox before :)

I won't bore you with the details, but last year was extremely rough for me, both physically and mentally, and I discovered Hannibal around July time. Watching the first episode, seeing Abigail on screen, what happened to her, her in the hospital, I was immediately captivated by her character. Even though I had seen spoilers many years ago about her fate, I had to keep watching to see how it would unravel.

Now, like many people on this site, Hannibal hasn't been my only obsession with a piece of media, however I've never had a character fill me with such joy and overwhelming creativity before. I was drawing her, editing her, sending paragraphs upon paragraphs about her to my friend (shout out to them) because I could not stop talking about her, which is something I still do. With going through such a hard time in my life, here was a character who was also suffering, who was also scared and confused, and I think that's possibly why I felt so connected to her when she first appeared on screen, thrust into something she wanted no part of and couldn't control.

As for analysis of the character herself, I just think she's so interesting! Sometimes she feels like less of a character and more of a prop, motivation for the other characters to use. We never really see her on her own, never truly know what she's thinking, we can only speculate and try and put the pieces together ourselves, trying desperately to not view her in the eyes of Hannibal or Will. This layer of mystery makes her so compelling to watch. Honestly, she can be very unpredictable at times, killing Nick, digging up his body, manipulating the conversation at one point and being completely helpless the next, I feel like you never really know what's going to happen when she's on screen.

And of course there's her death, and how beautifully tragic it is. This woman, who wanted to be loved, to be understood, left to bleed out once more by someone who was supposed to protect her. I cannot imagine how she must have felt in those final moments, Hannibal's bloody hand stretched out to her, knife gleaming in the other one. She knew what was going to happen, what was about to be recreated, and she embraces it. She had no say before but she does now. And I think even in those last few minutes of her life, she wanted to live, even as the knife scrapped against her throat a second time, she plead for survival, but the only way she could be safe is via death. If she left with Hannibal and Will she'd be surrounded by twice her father once more, if she stayed she would have been turned in to the police, if she ran as far as she could, she would never be able to escape the guilt that her life brought her.

And so she decides to die by her own choice, to "push the button." And she's scared, unsure of her decision as she's grasping at her bleeding neck and gasping for air. I think she was unsure if she made the right call because every decision in her life has been done for her. It's a foreign feeling to a character that never had a taste of agency and individuality before.

Abigail is so immensly intriguing, and I love to pick her actions and motives apart, adding my own interpretations to a character that's all about peeling off their layers and trying to find their true self underneath.

[lantur]

I got back from Peru this morning after an overnight flight from Lima. :) It's been wonderful to be with Derek and Westin again, and to nap and relax after a 10-day trip!

Unorganized thoughts,

The Inca Trail was the most intense, demanding physical experience of my life. The group my friend and I were with hiked 26 miles/41 kilometers over 4 days, in rough terrain including the highlands of the Andes, the Amazon, and the cloud forests of Peru. The hike was at altitude, at an elevation nearing 13,828 feet/4,215 meters - which I struggled with, coming from living at sea level. I learned that I'm fit on sea level, but NOT at altitude. I also caught a pretty bad cold from another group member overnight on Day 3, which made Day 3 and Day 4's hikes extra challenging.

We were up at 4:30 AM every morning (3:30 AM on our final day to reach Machu Picchu), and due to my slower pace/altitude struggles, I usually had ~10-12 hours of hiking steep inclines and inclines. It was really so hard and I had to be very careful on the steep, rocky steps. The hiking poles saved me! We had to ascend and descend four mountains over the course of our hike. Ascents were really challenging for me due to shortness of breath at altitude. Descents were easier on my cardiovascular system, but required a lot of concentration to make sure I didn't miss my footing and fall down steep, uneven stone steps. Each step was about 12 to 18 inches high, which is significant for my friend and I, who are under five feet tall.

We also camped every night for 3 nights, in tents, which I've never done before. Our group bonded over the struggles of surviving the hideous campsite bathrooms, not being able to shower for four days, finding safe and private places to use the bathroom in the wild, staying warm at night, staying dry in the constant rain on day 2, and our feet and legs killing us at the end of the day. We ate every breakfast, lunch, dinner, and teatime together, and I liked everyone in the group. :) We enjoyed our time together and talked a lot.

We got to explore several Inca ruins on the way to Machu Picchu, and Machu Picchu itself was incredible. The scenery and views along the hike - the mountains, the jungle, the cloud forest - made it worth it, despite how physically difficult it was. I've never seen anything like it before. The sound of the birds singing in the jungle, the llamas and alpacas in the mountains, the butterflies, the rainforest flora... That was amazing.

One of my favorite memories was Thursday morning, when we all woke up at 3:30 AM and hiked in the dark to be among the first at the checkpoint to enter. We all brushed our teeth in the forest around the trail and hung out until the sun rose at 5:30 AM and we could enter the park. :)

My friend and I spent Friday chilling out in Cusco and recovering from our hike. We were SO tired when we got back to our hotel on Thursday night, and so relieved to finally shower and sleep in a real bed. We traveled from Cusco to Lima to Atlanta/Miami to Minneapolis. I got home this morning around 10:45 and I've literally just been sitting on the sofa or napping. Doing post-trip laundry was the big accomplishment of the day, lmao.

This was such an adventure. I'm so glad I could do it, and return safe. It was wonderful to experience South America for the first time, and I hope to go back many times. It was wonderful to completely disconnect with no phone/internet while I was in the mountains. The whole experience was a test of my physical and mental endurance, and my ability to be out of my comfort zone - but as I told my friend when we got back, while I was on the trail, simply focusing on nature and getting through each ascent and descent safely, it let me forget about the things I've experienced this year. My dad dying, estrangement from my mom, the ongoing interpersonal stresses at work. It was a great way to close out my 30th year, which has also been my hardest year.

My 31st birthday is tomorrow. :)

[ishomieokay]

Masks We Wear (Chapter 3)

Teen and Up. 2.4k, suicide attempt, canon-typical violence, ptsd, mental health issues, murder, description of a corpse, morally grey!john, unethical experimentation, child abuse, nudity, kidnapping, threats of violence. part 3/44. AO3 link. part 1, 2.

Right before turning eighteen, John Vogelbaum escapes the clutches of Vought. Always under the radar, he manages to live as a regular Joe for the next couple of years. Until one day, trouble comes knocking at his door in the shape of Grace Mallory. What does the CIA want to do with him, anyway?

Or, the one where Homelander is never born. A traumatized, socially-awkward John wanders through life trying to work out what to do with himself, and somehow becomes a member of The Boys.

Taglist: @discowizard88 Let me know if you want to be tagged!

He’d been performing a flight test, when the idea occurred to him. As he reached the stratosphere for the very first time, wind blowing hollowly around him and with the taste of ozone tingling on his lips, John thought wildly, what if I die? When the answer came to him, he found himself flying forward, way past the point required to finish the test. Although it was barely noon, he could see the sky around him turn increasingly darker.

Up ahead there were stars flickering, and even further, John got a glimpse of the sun. He wondered whether he’d actually made it so far up, or if he could attribute the vision to lack of oxygen. Oddly enough, the possibility of his untimely demise didn’t concern him much. Instead, he was picturing the research group down below, running around like headless chickens as they tried to figure out why their subject’s ascent wouldn’t stop the way they planned. 

See what you’ve done? This is what you’ve forced me into, John thought, vindictively, and he could see Jonah Vogelbaum in his mind’s eye, screaming and pulling violently at the little hair he had left once he found out that the results of his eighteen-year experiment had literally been flown into the sun. And wasn’t it sad that he valued his own life so little that he was willing to end it just to spite his creator?

John kept moving forward, undeterred. His lungs were burning. The air was compressing around him, increasingly heating up the higher he got. His protective gear, a skin tight suit made out of spandex and leather, was beginning to disintegrate. His whole body itched. He risked a glimpse down and halted to a stop almost without realizing. 

Everything was quiet. Earth receded below him as he drifted in orbit, and John felt nauseous and faint. He’d gone too long without air. As resilient as he was, he still needed to breathe in order to survive. The rush of adrenaline that allowed him to power through this journey that would have annihilated any other creature was fading, taking its toll now that he’d allowed himself a rest. Quite some time had passed before John realized that he was falling. 

It all came to him in fragments. He wasn’t falling anymore. There was a deep itch spreading throughout his body. He felt impossibly cold, and yet the slightest movement left a scorching feeling on his skin. Something moist and rough dragged across his cheek, finally pulling him out of his slumber. John opened his eyes and found a German Shepard staring intently at him. It had just licked him. 

“Get off me, you dirty mutt!” He shouted, swatting at it as he sat up. The dog yelped and backed away, lowering its ears. John rubbed violently at the foul smelling drool covering his face. He looked around, and realized he’d landed on someone’s barn. They would probably try to get a few bucks out of him, what with the man shaped-hole he’d left on the ceiling. 

Uh, not if I’m gone before they get here, John thought stubbornly. It’s not like he brought a wallet along for the launch. He didn’t own one, as a matter of fact. His legs were still wobbly, though, and as soon as he tried to stand he fell face first into a pile of hay. John groaned. His vision was blurry, and there was an incessant buzzing in his head. He felt raw and sort of deflated, like a football that had seen one too many world series. 

Right, so, not dead, he thought with a hint of derision, now what?

He imagined Vogelbaum would be unspeakably pleased if he ever found out that one of his subjects had managed to survive free falling to Earth from outer space. Vought's billion-dollar investment in his pet project had certainly paid off. John was so utterly indestructible, he couldn't even kill himself if he tried. 

There were indeed repercussions to his ludicrous attempt, though. The pain he was experiencing was so overwhelming it was hard to focus. He wondered briefly if he had suffered internal damage, but a quick glimpse at his body through his X-Ray vision was enough to rule out that possibility. There would probably be bruising, though. At last, he stood up. Regaining the ability to walk was a relief, although faint and short-lived. As soon as John crossed the doors of the barn, he was greeted by the panic-stricken face of an old man and the end of a shotgun barrel. 

“I don’t want no trouble, okay?” He said in a thin voice. “Not with a Supe. Just leave now and I promise not to call the sheriff.”  

John blinked, tilting his head to the side. The words took a minute to register due to the buzzing in his head. Once they did, he realized that he was the cause of the old man’s fear, although he didn’t think he’d done anything to warrant such a reaction. Besides existing in his general vicinity, that is. Wherever he was, he guessed coming across a Supe was something of a novelty, and perhaps not the type to be glad for. 

“Easy, partner. What’s got you so jumpy, uh?” John said, offering the stranger what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s all fine, I’m not here to cause any harm.”

He took a step closer, and the man quickly took one back. He wasn’t staring at his face but down. John followed his gaze and grimaced. He wasn’t exactly looking his best at the moment. Or perhaps he was. The man was right to fear him, in any case. No upstanding citizen would trespass into someone’s private property while shamelessly sporting their birthday suit. 

“Right, I’m naked. I guess that’s got you feeling a bit spooked,” John said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “I swear there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, though. So, how about you put that gun down?”

He moved forward again, and that was his mistake. The man went trigger happy on him, and fired. He wasn’t hurt, of course. It had taken a series of operations and a rather uncomfortable amount of tinkling with his DNA, but now John could say that he was effectively bulletproof. The doctors had tested that quite diligently. As it always did back then, the bullet ricocheted off him. Then it went through the old man’s skull, instantly killing him. He fell to the ground, so fast and abruptly that it took John a moment to understand what had happened.

He stood there for quite a long time, withstanding the bite of the scorching sun on his exposed flesh. The German Shepard had returned and was barking furiously at him for the audacity of killing its owner. John paid it no mind, knowing that it couldn't hurt him. Points had been made that there was nothing on Earth that could. Blood was steadily spreading through the ground. He realized then that the dead man had not been old, as he’d first assumed, but rather young and worn out by life. He chuckled.

Once he started, John didn’t stop laughing until the pain became unbearable, forcing him to his knees. There were tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. No matter what he tried or where he went, it seemed he could never truly escape death - that is, unless it was his own. 

Once he was able to compose himself, John went out onto the highway and hijacked a car.

“Oh, would you calm down?” He said, giving the anxious-looking driver a stern look. “We’ve been over this, Kevin. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just take me across the state line and you’ll be fine . And for fuck’s sake, roll the goddamn windows down! This adrenaline stench’s killing me.”

There was likely nothing to fear in this sleepy small town in the middle of Louisiana. Had he been any less of a paranoid, John would have seen no issue in staying a day or two to figure out his next move. He hadn’t been in the vicinity for more than two hours and he’d already left a body behind, though. It was an accident, of course, and perhaps he was being superstitious, but it did seem like something he ought to pay heed to. There was an itch in him compelling him to move forward, to put as much distance as he could between his handlers and himself. He didn’t want to risk Vought tracking him down if they somehow figured out that he wasn’t dead. 

“Right,” Kevin replied, licking sweat off his upper lip, “of course.”

John rolled his eyes but said nothing. His whole body hurt, and he could feel a migraine forming. Many times as he made his way through the cornfields a rush to the head left him feeling as though he were about to faint again, but he never did. Even if flying hadn’t meant further exposing himself to detection, he wasn’t sure he could do it in the state he was in. He spared a glance to the unlucky fellow that had been forced to serve as his personal chauffeur, and noticed that his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Perhaps he’d gone too far with the whole threats and blackmail business. 

“So, you don’t happen to have any clothes I could borrow, uh?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest to suppress the need to cover himself. You would think that after walking approximately three miles under the scorching mid-afternoon sun he would become accustomed to being naked out in the open. As it was, John wasn’t even used to existing outside of a lab, let alone being as exposed as he was. It was a sensory nightmare, if he’d ever had one.

“There’s a bag on the back seat,” Kevin said, looking visibly relieved. It was probably getting weird for him too. John pulled a shirt and some pants out of the bag and was quick to put them on. The fit was abysmal but at the very least it was covering. He considered Kevin for a moment, and wondered if there were any questions he ought to ask before they parted ways. It wouldn’t be long for now, if the street signs were to be believed.

John still wasn’t sure what he would do, once they made it to Arkansas. He felt out of sorts and unable to formulate a plan. It wasn’t clear to him whether his exhaustion could be attributed to the fall, the lack of oxygen or a prolonged exposure to radiation. Perhaps it was the combination of it all. He just knew that he wanted to make it out of the countryside, away from the unbearable heat and the sharp, overwhelming smells of farming and pollen. 

It doesn’t matter where you go, tiger. They’re gonna find ya, a voice murmured in the back of his mind, as he stared listlessly at the passing scenery. You seriously think you can survive without them? You ungrateful, spoiled brat! You're never gonna make it on your own. May as well go crawling back to daddy Jonah and beg for his forgiveness, while you still can. 

Fuck off, John replied with a scowl, I don’t need them. I don’t need anyone, and especially not you. Leave me the fuck alone!

You just couldn’t handle it, could you? Homelander said viciously. Don’t know why I’m surprised, you’ve always been so weak. So fucking fragile. Vogelbaum didn’t give ya enough head pats, is that it? Is that why you’re running away with your tail between your legs, like the fucking pussy you are?!

No. John shook his head. His lower lip trembled, and he bit into it to try and hide it. No, that’s not it. Just- shut the fuck up! 

You would’ve made a lousy hero, anyway. Perhaps it’s for the best. From here forward, we’re on our own, partner. That’s how it’s always been, isn’t it? Who would want you, but me? Not the doctors nor the tutors. Certainly not Vogelbaum. I mean, not even death will have you. How pathetic is that?

John could feel tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, and quickly blinked them away. It was the pollen, he told himself - the sharp brightness of the outside world that he'd so rarely witnessed in the past. To say it was overwhelming was an understatement. The never ending turning of the Earth, the people moving about, the smell of livestock, the cars passing by. He could feel his heart racing, and suddenly he felt nauseous and unbalanced, as if he were about to fall.

Are you seriously having a panic attack right now? For fuck’s sake, John. I thought we were past this, Homelander said, and John swore he could hear him laughing. If his handlers did manage to track him down, they would drag him back to the lab by the scruff of his neck. They would put him in the Bad Room again. He needed to blend in. That meant concealing his powers and performing normalcy - speaking, living and dressing like a faceless figure in the crowd. He could probably pull it off. His tutors always said that he had a talent for acting.

You can’t escape your fate, John, said that soft, brutally mocking voice. You were created with a purpose, and you’re going to fulfill it whether you want it or not. 

Belatedly, John realized that he was muttering to himself, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down. Kevin was staring at him warily. He clamped his mouth shut, forcing his body to go completely still. 

I’m the strongest man in the whole wide world, John thought, rubbing his eyes, I can do whatever the fuck I want. 

[chipped-chimera]

So, I'm a Lesbian I guess.

So uh, life update. I came out to my Mum, so I figured I'd do so here too.

I've done a bunch of self reflection, healing. I reached out to my ex and we had a good conversation and I think that just made everything even clearer for me.

So yeah, this is me saying I'm not bisexual. I'm lesbian. And I probably always was.

More context below the cut if you want it (it's long). But anyway, here's to finally feeling like I'm finding the real 'me' in all this rubble.

❤️🧡🤍💖💜

I thought I was bisexual for ages. The fact I even got to think that wouldn't have happened if it weren't for my ex, who identified that way and I felt in a safe enough environment to express it. In the past two months I went through some self reflection, and talked to my ex for the first time in 2 years. It was good, and it's too complicated to explain easily but at least on my end I was getting a double dosage of the comphet juice between just regular expectations and the undiagnosed autism (also jesus christ, being a teenager in 2005-2010 that environment was just fucked up for anyone who might be trying to come to terms with not being straight). Kids in my school were more accepting, but also in the same breath using 'Gay' as an insult).

We were both undiagnosed neurodiverse people and maybe it was just the first time we'd encountered someone who just actually understood for once. Who saw who we were and were okay with that. The 10 year relationship, put in that context makes a lot of sense. So I don't blame him for how it ended. If anything I thanked him for breaking it off, because I was in such a goddamn state after being used by the Australian government (see Robodebt) there was no way in hell I had the mental tools or even brain space to realise anything about myself because I was too busy just trying to fucking survive. I would have lived and died in that relationship simply because at least it was safe, and stable. But it wasn't genuine.

Past two years since that relationship ended were fucking rough. For most of this year I kind of just turned into myself I guess, but I was letting it happen because after finding out about the high comorbidity of chronic health conditions with Autism and how it's likely related to long-term compound stress from masking for so long, I really asked myself when was the last time I just let myself 'rest'? Didn't do anything I didn't want to do or feel compelled to do because of some social contract or guilt?

I couldn't come up with an answer.

So I rested. And I think that's basically given me the strength now to finally 'wake up'. I dunno. That's how it feels. I only recently noticed my thoughts about women were structurally very different than the ones about men (and yeah it's goddamn fuckin' embarassing to say but uh thanks Larian specifically for giving me a female love interest tailored to my exact preference which FINALLY connected some dusty neuron in the back of my head or something. It was Karlach. MY GODDAMN GAY AWAKENING WAS KARLACH, ffs) and the more I examined it, the more everything became clear. I was hesitant to remove the bi label from myself, wondering if this was just a really extreme 'bi-cycle' swing but the more and more I thought about it, went through memories in my life, how I could never see myself with someone else it was always characters together and really it was the relationship and intimacy between them, regardless of gender that I was appreciating.

I thought I was grey ace but after going 'huh these thoughts are kind of different' and realising that yeah, I could imagine myself with a woman - it wasn't some weird other shit I'd told myself like it was just visceral self hatred or something, placing myself with a guy it was literally I did not want to be with a guy - it became obvious. So fucking, embarrassingly obvious.

I'm not sure where things will go from here. I am incredibly socially isolated in real life. My best friend is my Mum. I don't have a social circle at all outside of online spaces. I'm 30 and that's a fucking weird age to be thrown out into the world essentially experiencing goddamn delayed idk mental puberty because you suppressed it that hard. I haven't used a dating app in my LIFE. I'm still kind of scared of being hurt by others and I'm aware it's not entirely logical, but I just feel fragile. I'm also still picking up the pieces of my life.

I've confirmed a C-PTSD diagnosis with my psychologist, which explains why all the CBT tools I'd learned over the years just stopped working (CBT doesn't always gel well with PTSD or Autism) so that's probably going to inform treatment going forward. My intense fatigue issues are probably caused by having to carry all this fucking trauma and suppression of myself. As I said to my Mum, it's like I'm just 'Tired from being alive' at this point. I'm really, really fucking hoping it's not Chronic Fatigue Syndrome/ME. The new medication I'm on seems to be keeping me going past the 4hr mark though, so we might be onto the right medication mix (I do not appreciate the 7:30pm crash, like clockwork, where instead of feeling unfocused and tired like before I now feel jacked up as hell like I'm waiting for someone to punch me however :V)

I don't know where this is going. Or where I'm going. All I know is 'I'm going'. When the breakup first happened, when I hauled myself out of the Mental Health ward and back to my parents home where I had to figure out what the fuck to do after any kind of certainty of my future had been completely obliterated - I saw a lot of snakes. I'm kind of vaugely pagan, if I'm honest. I don't know how to put it. I am very scientific but I also don't think we know all the answers.

My ancestors were likely heavily Celtic, likely some Viking and Pictish influence as both family lines go back to Scotland and Ireland. I know through my reading that natural signs were important to them, so I start noticing when I see multiple occurrences, especially in odd places (I'll be real, I just remembered earlier in this relationship when I was more into pagan shit I saw a lot of Moths. Yeah. Yeah I feel like smashing my face into my desk about that. No I never figured it out then EITHER). I know quite a few things about snakes. Snakes are an animal that is both used as a symbol for medicine, but also classed as 'evil', especially in the modern christian context.

They are considered symbols of rejuvenation, of immortality, much like the Phoenix, they are constantly reborn through the shedding of their skin. Shedding is critical to a snake, because if it does not shed it's skin, it will die. This is a legitimate concern for zookeepers with snakes that have scars - they often struggle to shed completely, and they have to soak the snake's skin in water so they can cast off the skin.

So it's shed or die.

I have struggled to let go of things. Of everything that was done to me, but I knew it had to be let go. And today I have shed a lot of that shit. I am crying on and off but this is probably the first time it's easy. It's not physically painful, like knives in my throat, or something I have to shove down and keep contained for fear of being rejected. It's happy crying.

Because that skin being shed - it wasn't mine either. I needed rest, I needed to soak in that goddamn water dish so I could get through all the scar tissue. So it's probably the strongest image I have in my mind of everything. Of who I am. My entire life.

If you're going through difficult shit in life, all I can say is - you're strong. You're strong as fuck. Strength isn't being able to get into a physical fight, or being super confident around people - it's enduring life and the chaos thrown at you. It's being able to be broken down and rebuild, just like the snake casts off skin for their new selves. You will endure things and be stronger for it, than those who have lived all their lives without any pain whatsoever.

But it could be better, I know. It doesn't justify the pain. But please listen to yourself. Listen to your body. If you need to be selfish? Be fucking selfish! Don't want to do that thing? Don't do it! If you know it is costing you, if it is adding to that scar tissue - stop. Take the time you need to reset, to regain your breath. Ask yourself who you are doing this for. Ask what skin you are wearing and whether that is something you want to keep. Shed it. Let go.

It will hurt, but this is just the beginning. Change feels like a broken bone. But it will heal.

[niuniente]

With all due respect but depression, anxiety, etc are not disabilities. I have anxiety, bipolar and depression, and it’s tough. But 2 years ago I got into an accident that rendered me legally disabled. And that’s when the nightmare begun. So while those condition are rough they are NOWHERE near the level of pain, distress and struggle actually disabled folks go through

Hmm I can't speak for the mental problems myself. My physical disability is not in your level. My condolences for you. It's definitely not easy for you, that's what I'm sure about.

My impression of the original post was that people shouldn't be so hard on themselves as "I need to do better, I need to be as good and energetic as an abled person. I'm not disabled enough to make my life any easier with all the things disabled people use". It speaks to me, too, as I'm telling myself "I'm not disabled enough" when I'm 24/7 in pain and half-dead, because someone else out there has it WORSE.

My condition and your condition should never dismiss or be used against other people's issues with health, whatever those might be. I would never tell my depressed friend, that "Well, I'm in pain 24/7, you're just depressed. I've got it worse than you. You've been depressed just a few years, I've had this condition for decades".

I think it should never be a competition who has it worse, as someone always has it worse than you (not meaning you, anon), and someone has it easier than you (again, not meaning you, anon). My experience about humans is that they whip themselves too much and don't give themselves break, aid, permission to ask help and seek help, because "I'm not disabled enough, sick enough, low in energy enough, chronically ill enough, mentally ill enough, physically ill enough, traumatized enough etc."

Of course, physical disability caused by physical illness/trauma is different in nature, but it shouldn't dismiss people who are mentally ill/traumatized. If mental illnesses weren't causing disablities in people - an in this context meaning that they can't survive the daily life the same way as abled people - then we would have no mentally ill people who have retired from work due their mental illnesses, dropped from schools etc. Just in Finland, people with severe mental illnesses are allowed to retire and they're not expected to work, because they are disabled.

Illnesses and disbalities appear in people in so many forms and people should be allowed to be KIND to themselves, to seek out help and aid WITHOUT having the legal status obtained from health care as "Ok, now you're allowed to make your daily life easier at home, like eating from paper plates instead of regular plates to avoid dishes, as you pass as disabled enough".

The level of disability is not a competition, nor it should be behind gate keeping. If your health - whether mental of physical - affects your daily life significantly - so that you need to plan your daily life around your disease, whatever it is - you're not ablebodied and you're allowed to find ways to make your life easier. And, if the disabilities are very severe, as I think it is in your case based on what you told me, then people need to be allowed to find the help from the society, doctor, law etc.

I won't discuss about this matter more. I've said my version of this - as a disabled person myself, too.

[thewakingcloak]

The State of Things Past

this post is mirrored from the Studio Spacefarer Patreon! please consider supporting me, and you’ll get access to devlog posts, gifs, and other info before the public!

Like I mentioned in my previous post, The Waking Cloak has been in development for eight years.

ProtoDungeon: Episode III has itself been in development for a few years, pretty much since 2019 (oooof). I've gotten plenty of questions about how the project is coming, as well as the occasional question of whether The Waking Cloak / ProtoDungeon is even alive at all at this point. Thank you for asking this. It means people are still interested in these games.

Okay, but still, what happened? Why are things taking so long? Well, this post is the first in the Christmas Carol series, in which the ~Ghost of Spacefarer Past~ appears to explain things (wooo spooky explanation sounds).

Progress has been made, very slowly, on ProtoDungeon: Episode III. I'd love to have done more, but, well… in the time since I released Episode II, we continued adjusting to parenthood for our first kid, went through the pandemic, had a second baby (who is now almost 3yo), and survived through a series of really difficult events, which culminated in a move to a new house in a new town and the start of a new chapter (but that last bit we'll save that for the Ghost of Christmas Present so he feels useful).

But yeah, it's been a rough ride. My wife and I are intentionally open about what's been going on. At the same time, the internet is an extremely public place, and I don't want to overshare, or worse, trigger anything for anyone, so I'll try to keep this list brief:

Two miscarriages (the first one was late term, and absolutely, brutally devastating)

The loss of our faith community due to the pandemic

Loss of job for my wife due to the pandemic (the pandemic was unkind to teachers)

Loss of a dream job prospect for my wife (same issue)

The great Texas freeze and power outage (us huddling under blankets in shifts through the night with our newborn infant (he's fine now!))

Severe, life-threatening post-partum and post-natal depression

Family covid and two-week cabin-fever quarantines (twice, despite being vaccinated and careful)

The death of my grandma (we were not able to attend her memorial due to aforementioned covid and living on the other side of the country)

Multiple heart attacks for my father despite his active and healthy lifestyle

Autoimmune disease scare for my wife (may still be a thing, just dormant?)

etc., etc., ad infinitum.

A lot of people have had things significantly worse, so this is definitely not an attempt to "compare griefs" as it were. This is just context for, no matter how much I wanted it to be otherwise, the fact that I didn't have the mental or emotional (or temporal) space for creativity. It was one thing after another, and we were just trying to keep our heads above water.

Even when we'd mostly recovered from the hits that just kept comin', we moved away from what my wife lovingly refers to as the "trauma house", and she started a teaching job at a brand-new school. Both were good things, but they were pretty big transitions, and it takes time for the ol' brains to adjust. We love our new home now and have a bit more breathing room.

Okay but also I HAVE been working on ProtoDungeon. Dev was really sporadic, but it did happen. The next post will have more detail on the status of Episode III, but there were kind of two big things I worked on during the past three years, big shifts in the foundation of ProtoDungeon and The Waking Cloak.

First, I switched game perspective. I made a few posts about this a while back, but PD/TWC interiors were originally like Zelda interiors (where you see the insides of all four walls). There are good reasons to do this, but it was also kinda making me crazy. So I switched to a more natural front-perspective, keeping things consistent with the exteriors. It definitely was the right choice for the game I wanted to build, but it took time.

Second, and building on that, I made the game fully faux-3D. You can walk behind or in front of stuff--not something the old Zelda games did, and still pretty rare for 2D games. I was toying with the idea for a long time, but I played through an old PlayStation title, Alundra, and that convinced me it could be done. It's way harder than you might expect, and it was a massive block for me for literally years. I was able to slowly work my way past it and finally resolved it with a 3D z-tilting method, but dev slowed to a crawl.

And that's it for now! The ghost releases you from your vision of Spacefarer Past….

Thanks for reading :)

[mamabearwonders]

Ever have those rough days where you just wanna give up, something crazy cool happens then you look up to the sky and say to your dearly departed loved ones, "I know that was you"? Well, that was me tonight.

At work, I had a chat with a young man. He said what he puts his faith into has carried him through his whole life and that's going to tie into what just happened now. Pretty cosmic.🪐🌠

Most of my friends gained their black heavy metal emo-y angel wings early.🪽Then I met Wolfie👼🏼 last year. His wings were ready, my heart was not. So the last few months of his life, we lived it up. We acknowledged his suffering, but we also gave him the best months of his life. It was like we were infinite and not on a timeline.

Flsonfor the past year, I've been in a pretty bad depressive episode. Things are piling up and I just wanted to cry tonight. Then I spontaneously decided to go on a walk. I found a leaf in the hallway that I kept and I saw it was snowing outside. And I knew my loved ones were with me.

It may seem a little silly, but there's been so many times I can tell my loved ones are with me, that it's no longer a coincidence. Wolfie crossed over right at the beginning of a new season, fall. The leaf reminds me of that new journey for him and a new journey for me. The transition from fall to winter. As if he's saying to start the next chapter.

Nobody has it figured out. We're the memories of stars experiencing being human for a little while on a meatball shaped planet spiraling through an infinite impossible galaxy.

My friends and I weren't even supposed to live as long as we did. I think because we have been surviving for most of our lives, we don't acknowledge how badass we really are and what we're capable of.

And I think Tumblr is kind of like the solar system💫. We're all different parts of galaxies and milky ways and stars coming together on here to find who understands our own little world. We're not all that alone.

It was nice to just feel the snow☃️. I hope my friends get to experience the seasons on the other side as well. I don't know all of what I believe in, but I do know that wherever my loved ones are, they're in a beautiful place.

Every time they're near, every physical and mental pain I'm feeling just poof goes away for a little bit. And it's a reminder that even though sometimes life is a shit show and it's perfectly okay to be sad and sit with your feelings for a little bit and not have it all figured out, there have been good times. Our suffering is very valid, but sometimes I have to dwell on something else than the pain or it just drives me crazy.

It's hard to see sometimes when you're just surviving. So sometimes you need to just have a little sit and a little snack and free yourself from not having everything figured out.🌟

[rfaromance]

Oh a fellow Rika lover! Any thoughts on her as a whole? Everyone views her differently and she's certainly a very complex character with lots of layers to her (another reason why she's one of my faves!). Maybe how would you interpret her own happy ending?

Hello, fellow Rika lover!!

I'll put my thoughts under a "read more", partially because I fear this will get lengthy and partially because I know Rika is a sensitive subject for many people!

Also putting a TW for SA and general abuse!

Honestly, I find Rika to be an extremely relatable character, at least from my perspective. She's a good (albeit exaggerated) example of what can happen if people who need help are abandoned.

A rough background is never justification for crime, but it can help explain it. This is a girl whose earliest memories are in an orphanage, who only had one person she could rely on. When she was stripped away from Mika, she at least thought she would have a happy, loving family.

Instead she lived a life where abuse came at her from all angles. Emotional and psychological abuse by her mother, physical and sexual abuse from the priest. She was treated like she was worthless--no, worse. She was treated like she was evil, a scourge upon the earth, devilspawn that would plague everything she touched.

She didn't want to be evil. She genuinely wanted to be a good girl and just have someone love her and be proud of her. But she turned to that "devil" that everyone made her out to be as a defense mechanism. If it kept her safe... how could it be a devil?

She genuinely strove to be a good person. She took in Sally, a stray, because she saw her own loneliness and neglect in that dog. She did originally want to use charity to help others. She went to a different church from the one she grew up attending, so that she could have a fresh life where nobody would judge her from the second she arrived, and she could actually help out.

The problem is that she still was missing that love. By the time she met V, she was... 18, if I recall correctly? 18 years of being unloved. By then she figured she had to be someone else, put on a mask in order to be liked, let alone loved.

And V was her sun. V, who could capture beauty and warmth in photos that Rika could have only dreamed of. She saw light and love and passion in his work. Truly, Rika at her core is a romantic, because V was genuinely surprised to hear her explanations and theories of his photos. He was the one who said, "Huh. It wasn't that deep for me, but part of the charm of art is that it means something different to everyone who sees it. I'd love to hear more about your beautiful, romantic visions of my pieces."

She saw his sunlight and wanted it for herself. But just having the sun in her arms wasn't enough. When V started calling Rika his sun, too... she wanted to become the sun. Because she saw the sun as a mother who gave a warm embrace to all of her children on earth. Rika had never known that warmth, and she needed it. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

Of course, we all saw how everything spiraled when Mika was dying, when Sally died, when Rika turned into a black hole that began to suck up the sun. V didn't--and couldn't--give her what she needed, and she snapped.

Candidly, I don't think that's too unrealistic. Growing up in an environment of abuse, and reaching out desperately to be loved but everything keeps falling apart around you. She went into survival mode, and that meant relying on her "devil." The darkness inside her protected her, and she couldn't give up on it entirely when it had saved her time and again. She didn't want to give into dark desires, but she felt that she had to. She genuinely wanted to be the sun.

And I think that's something people miss in Another Story. In casual & deep, she's too far gone. But Another Story, she still has a tiny fragment of hope of being able to love and be loved. That's why she's so desperate to form her "happy family", and why she goes off the wall when Ray disobeys her. She doesn't know how a mother is supposed to love. She never had that love. It's not good, it's not excusable, and it's not pretty.

But it's all she knew.

Rika is someone who had more masks than she had names (and she had three of those). She never was able to just exist as herself, always trying to fit a mold someone made for her (i.e. her mother), or to become someone else who lived a life she wanted (i.e. V). She lost herself along the way.

I think she genuinely loved the RFA, and to a certain extent did believe she could "save" them. She advertised Mint Eye as a haven for other outcasts, as a place where those who'd been scorned by the rest of the world could find solace and love. She had to become their sun, their Savior.

But Rika never had anybody to save her.

Now, common critiques are that she should've gone to therapy longer. And let me tell you, if you have a bad therapist? You don't want to go back. There is nothing more emotionally taxing than pouring out your heart and fears and insecurities and troubles to a stranger. Sometimes you get lucky, and you get someone who's patient and understanding and willing to work with you.

Sometimes you get a horrible person who invalidates your feelings, talks over you, and flat-out tells you, "You're too unstable for me to handle. Go get on medication then come back to me." (Speaking from experience, here.)

And that hurts! Having someone spit on the very essence of your soul! Picking yourself back up to find another therapist and pray things go better is... it's one of the toughest things a person can do. I can't blame Rika if she had a terrible therapist.

Plenty of people like to blame V, and let's be honest, he has his faults too. He couldn't give Rika the love she needed because he was so focused on fixing her. No, seriously, he went, "I can fix her. I can help her." But he's someone else whose intentions were pure. He saw how his father abandoned his mother, and he never wanted to do that. He saw a woman in need, and he thought of his mother. He had to help her. His conscience told him to, and he didn't want another ghost on his hands. He's self-sacrificing to a fault, and he's also insanely stubborn. He decided he'd follow her to hell and back to save her. It wasn't love, it was obsession, and he didn't realize that until it was too late. It was a moral fixation.

They both needed help. They weren't right for each other. But they clung to each other and fed off each other, and that's why V has a tragic end in every route but his own. Rika doesn't even get that.

So, I don't condone Rika's actions. But I can say that it's easy to see how someone with pure intentions and a will to do good... can lose themselves in a world that is so vile and full of malice, hate, despair, and suffering. I see Rika, and I see my own struggles to stay afloat in a world that wants me dead, as a queer Jewish AFAB person living in Florida. I see my own struggles with narcissistic parents and how I'm constantly second-guessing my thoughts and feelings. But I digress.

Anyway, a happy ending for Rika? Cottagecore lesbian. I'm not even kidding. Gosh, she's so lesbian-coded. Don't get me started. Nope, I'm starting, but I'll keep it brief.

Basically, oppressive Catholic upbringing telling her she's a devil who's going to hell no matter what and she has to take the abuse if she wants to be saved. She clings to the first person who shows remotely any interest in her well-being and thinks it's love. Rika is a lesbian who had to suppress her feelings or else damn herself further, and she clung to a man in a serious case of compulsory heterosexuality because he was kind to her and she was not accustomed to that. Look at the V bad ending where she seduces MC. She has way more chemistry with MC than she ever did with V. That's a comphet lesbian with gender envy of her ex, your honor.

Let her live in a cottage in the woods, far from the hustle & bustle of the city. Let her live alone with a woman where they bake pies and cross-stitch and read and just exist peacefully. Get her another puppy. She needs peace, fresh air, and grass.

Screenshots to show that I'm not just pulling my Rika analysis out of thin air, lol.

She's extremely insecure and has horrible fear of abandonment. But she was failed at so many levels: the orphanage, the church, V, therapy.

I want nothing more than to see Rika be happy.

[lestappenforever]

hi angel c:

wanted to wish you and all your anons a good race evening! this two weekends are giving us enormous amount of lestappen content but I'm not complaining at all ._.

I take into account that the entire Lestappen launching may be PR but... don't you think this is kinda too much? I mean I don't see the reason for Christian to post photo of Max and Charles and moreover today's greeting of him and Charles... I'm confused .-. maybe I want to see Charles in RBR so bad that I start to notice and exaggerate the things that are not even there but greeting the others teem principal? o_O k im taking it

I follow some distant but still opinionated F1 sources that are not connected with shipping at all and the funny thing is that even people who are not delusional are seeing changes in behavior of these two or at least notice that they are somehow perceiving each other differently in comparison to other drivers. as if they were constantly emphasized and treated specially by each other. it’s just that: from year to year they get closer and closer, more calm and open. and that's beautiful

I have the feeling that we are witnessing the history and dynamics that are far from an end. their story is literary from the very beginning and I expect the same development. and at the moment we're getting it

it all as if we are missing something and seeing too much at the same time. and it's an amazing feeling. it irritates and in parallel fuels me with passion and interest

i see that everyone enjoyed yesterday's conference. that was two-domestic-idiots-in-love and third-wheeling- Steve Carlos. and I still don't know how to survive that "what?🥺🥰" from Charles. his voice and expression became so soft😭 or nervous Max (great thanks to Body language anon I already adore you). or all of that glances and giggles. I WASN'T PREPARED FOR THAT. I've lowered my expectations from Mexico so much that now I'm in a fucking complete "wtf is going on" situation. I anticipated a lot of Checo content but then Ferrari boys managed to put a red tractor on the first row and we got all of that

I don’t think that my ask now carries any meaning, I just wanted to share. I'm admiring you and your blog from a shadow right now but I'm always here c:

I have some serious mental issues these days, curing from depression and CPTSD is never easy. to a large extent, my reason for waking up every day and living now is Formula 1 and all its content including intrigues and investigations, theories and guesses, races, technical updates, challenges and shipping of pilots which I've found fun. so if anyone here is in the same condition as me, then know that you are not alone and one day we'll get through it

so yeah let's watch a great race and live laugh love lestappen

love ya 🖤❤️

Denis once again coming into my ask box and gracing me and everyone else with an insight into such a beautiful mind.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts, Denis. It makes me so happy when I see your name in my inbox, and every ask you send carries so much meaning. Please don't ever doubt that. ❤️

I'm so sorry to hear that you’re struggling these days. If you ever need to talk, please don't hesitate to come to me. I love you so much and you deserve the whole world. And thank you for sharing your incredible kindness - I'm sure there are going to be people reading this who will definitely relate and appreciate knowing they are not alone. Because they’re not, and neither are you, Denis. Ever. 💕

Fingers crossed for a Lestappen podium despite the rough start to the race! 🤞

[a-ticklish-banshee]

And don't you understand, that one day- one day very soon- the cruel words from your past will cease to matter? The ghosts in your head will eventually leave, these emotional and mental scars that they left, when we were all children will no longer hurt.

They said I was ugly. They said I will never be beautiful. They made me aware of my flaws, my acne, my moles. They called me names and gave me labels of the worst kind. They gave a near murderous assurance that I would never be good enough for anyone.

The poison they made you drink, their unkind labels that they pounded into your head, the way they made you loathe your very face in the mirror, this will eventually come to a halt, dearest.

This shame, this self hatred, this need to deny a compliment, it will end.

Yes, the journey will be rough. It's not going to be an easy time. It will be painful. It is going to hurt. The halt will be a screeching, slow one. You will claw your way up from the grave that you dug and buried yourself in, when you were just thirteen. But your fingernails will grow back.

These memories will clear, as will the spiders cobwebs that made themselves a home in your head. Their words will eventually grow silent. A day will come when you stop believing them. Don't you see your father in your smile?

Don't you see your mother's eyes? Those eyes that are brown as the earth's soil, the eyes that belong to your ancestors that lived, despite that awful trail of tears.

You have her cheekbones too. Those high cheekbones, while not exactly like Peter Murphy or David Bowie's, they're still attractive and pretty.

And don't you realize just how many women get a beauty mark tattooed on them? Many women still see Marilyn Monroe as a beauty icon, my dear. How lucky you are to have a natural beauty mark.

How lucky you are to have those small moles and occasional freckles on your body. They make you look cute. They show a ler where your tickle spots are, so they can coax your laugh freely out of you.

Yes, you have allergy shiners, small bags under your eyes, you are even developing slight wrinkles now that you're closer to thirty.... But this has never taken away from your beauty. Even Paul Williams, himself called you beautiful, even though you were covered in fake blood for a costume at a fan convention.

He saw your beauty. So can you. Someone that you love deeply sees it too. It is time for you to start believing the ones that matter.

It is time to exorcise the pain, darling. You know what has its teeth in you. And now you must bite back in anger.

Take the daggers out. Tend to your wounds. Break out of your sepulchre. You only thought it was the end all those years ago. They thought they killed you, and you must not let them win. Not now, not ever.

You were never ugly. They projected their insecurities and rage onto you. And now you must break the cycle.

You will learn to love yourself, just as the ones that mean the most to you, do. Instead of scowling in the mirror, hold your head up, gorgeous.

Smile. You made it. You survived. You are beautiful.

(Nobody under the age of 18 interact with my blog or posts. Reblogs are ok, as long as you are 18+)

[colleencrossingg]

So this happened.

I apologize for my inactivity, school and work has been absolutely insane. I have been playing New Leaf every day though to get as much as I can before the servers shut down. Yes, this includes exchanging 100 visits with randos on Reddit for unlimited hacked Sanrio items. I decorated the bottom floor of my house, so I’ll post that later. I also started the Beautiful Town ordinance, because I am SICK of watering flowers.

I finished funding for both the Roost and the Dream Suite (with the help of friendly Redditors), so my main focus has been trying to visit others and get to 500 dreams. If you want me to visit, leave your Dream Address!

Things in my personal life are not going as well. My dog passed away yesterday at 6 years old. We have no idea what happened, but it seems as if he had severe organ failure. He was always very sick, even as a puppy, but this was very unusual and he declined very quickly. I don’t want to get into it, but this was the third major health scare in less than 9 months where we thought we’d have to put him down.

I am struggling to get things done because I am having POTS flare ups and I have been dealing with depression-related fatigue. I am trying to keep going, but it is hard. I am also dealing with a lot of stress because of my fiancée, because we might have to move in June so he can start grad school. He is stressing me out with financial talk and trying to convince me to enter a mortgage on a property I’ve never even seen in a city we’ve never been to. The FAFSA delay is screwing us because we don’t know how much in loans we’ll have to take out, so this affects which school he chooses to attend. I also don’t know what I’ll be doing until I can start my MA program. I may try to take Chinese or Vietnamese courses as a nonmetriculated student at the university my fiancée is going to, or I may be ambitious and try to do it at the Ivy League school nearby…

I recently won two awards for my thesis as well as my service to the department I belong to. I am dealing with major impostor syndrome because of this. I don’t feel like I deserve to win, and I even consulted my favorite professor to make sure that he didn’t influence the decision in any way because he is the department chair. I’m not sure if I want to even attend the ceremony because I am dealing with intense body image issues and if anybody tries to take a picture of me, I’ll go insane.

I will try to post occasional updates if I can. Animal Crossing is my main coping mechanism through everything going on. I have so many other games I want to play, but so little time.

I want to try the new Stardew Update, but I have such minimal progress in my main save file. I’m horrible with getting through the Skull Cavern mines, and it’s really holding me back. I haven’t played Stardew in a very long time, so I may just play from a completely different save file and start over.

Another game I’ve been playing more lately is Minecraft. I wouldn’t say it’s been a full-on intense Minecraft phase, but I started a new "Survival" world (I play on Peaceful until it’s not convenient for me - I have been playing for 12 years and beaten the game numerous times, I know what I’m doing!) and I’m trying to exit my comfort zone by building in biomes I would usually skip over.

Sorry for my inactivity, shit is rough right now. I don’t know what else to say. I deal with grief really weird for someone who is extremely mentally ill and emotionally unstable. I’m oddly fine. He died in such a traumatic state, so maybe it’s me knowing that he’s at peace now. I don’t know.

Also this has been me every morning sitting in my office at school high as FUCK listening to Strawberry Switchblade/Rose McDowall and getting absolutely nothing done. I have absolutely cooked my Spotify Wrapped and it’s not even April.

Ok I’ll update you in another month. 🫡