#which makes it a feedback loop at that point)

[starstruckpurpledragon]

Someone had a rough day, got taken to the vet and had her nails clipped

It stressed her out enough this time that the lab tech asked if I wanted her to talk with the vet about maybe getting Estelle some sedatives for her next visit

So guess who gets drugged the next time she needs her nails clipped?

She gets really really *stressed* about the vet in general so I think it's a good idea. Estelle's got high blood pressure already so stressing herself out like that really can't be good for her heart. When I pick up her new meds tomorrow I'm going to ask what drug interactions with her blood pressure medication I should keep an eye out for. But, yeah, drugging the dog for nail clippies.

But for now she's doing good. Chasing something in her sleep. Her little sleep barks are always so cute sounding. :D

[chipjrwibignaturals]

fucked up how just experiencing uncertainty makes you scared. im literally thinking about what i wanna do this afternoon why are you nervous about it

[reasonsforhope]

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

[spicymancer]

Somethin I've noticed about your designs is that you've got a fair number of big boys (large, muscular, chunky etc.) but most of your female characters tend to stay pretty thin and lithe, with the biggest they get being kinda muscular.

Do you have any intention of adding some big girls to your cast?

I have a few! Though you're right, the percentage disparity is pretty telling.

To be honest, it's absolutely a weakness of my character design sensibilities, and I'm doing my best to improve. I really should draw more varied body types.

To look inward for a moment, I suspect that I'm experiencing a bit of a brain poison feedback loop. Drawing is, on one level, a leisure activity I do to have fun, and on another level a Job that do for Money. Both having fun and making money are important for surviving in the Capitalist Hellscape we all occupy.

When it comes to leisure, I obviously tend to draw inside of my comfort zone. I learned to draw by mimicking artists that I admired growing up and comic/manga art has historically not been great about body diversity. This then reinforces the feedback loop of mostly drawing one kind of face or body type. (in this case: cute anime girls) A common artistic bad-habit exemplified here in this Nozaki Kun comic.

(Monthly Girls Nozaki Kun is incredibly good and a little too real)

Combined with the fact that being less practiced at drawing outside of my comfort zone, makes these designs end up taking more work to match the quality bar I have set for my work, this in turn means that it's more of a struggle to build up those muscles and bring those characters to the point where I'm happy with their design, which then makes that sort of drawing feel discouragingly like Work. Even if it's work that's worth doing (which it absolutely is)!

On the "monetary" side, I've built my audience on the characters I find easy to draw and so many of them expect/want me to draw more of that sort of thing. And having built an audience that desires that thing, they are often less engaged by things outside of that. Not to mention the economic strain of posts that do poorly will affect how much money I make in a given month.

This isn't limited to "bigger women" but a lot of MxM stuff I draw tends to do poorly in my algorithm, discouraging me from drawing more of it even when I want to! This phenomena is probably worst for folks on Youtube who are DEEPLY punished by the algorithm for daring to make videos outside of their established niche. ("You're a videogame content creator, how DARE you have an opinion on BOOKS")

This is all to say that I am grateful for you reaching out and expressing interest in seeing more variety and it's a good reminder to expand my artistic horizons a little more. Nothing is for everybody and there's definitely sections of my lovely audience who are underserved by these absences.

For more thoughts on this sort of discussion: there's some excellent TBskyen posts on this subject.

In addition I'd like to shout out artists like @jam-etc and @lillhappycloud who draw incredibly fantastic and appealing bodies of all kinds!

I hope you'll bear with me as I work to improve while probably still drawing a lot of my Usual Stuff. I'll now leave you with a relevant Princess Bride Quote.

Best Wishes.

[girlfromflor]

part 3 | supersoldiers!141 x f!reader

they were, indeed, fucked. as a matter of fact, there’s no explaining just how much. you were trouble, big trouble they quickly noticed, especially with the way you’d rest your thumbs on your tactical belt whenever you got a break from training. simon – always the attentive one – pointed it out three days after you met and they all started to get distracted as soon as you hooked your thumbs on the loops of your pants, fingers thoughtlessly resting on your upper thighs.

when training started getting more tiring to all of them – probably your fault, but they didn’t question  – simon would move to your side to give you one advice or two, but before he even started talking you’d – pretend to – shift your attention somewhere else. he wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, say something like “pay attention to me” and lecture you on how to keep your posture straight even while holding the heavy rifle in your smaller hands. he didn’t, of course, but he started praising you whenever you did a good job, trying to make you get used to the feedback and also get used to him – maybe you’d seek him out, then.

johnny watched it from afar, how simon suddenly seemed less blunt and more careful – he liked it more than he’d ever admit out loud. against his will, johnny kept his distance from you, not wanting to overwhelm you and piss you off or make you uncomfortable, so kyle had to step up and take his place. which sucked, because they all – very quickly – realized that kyle didn’t really like you. they didn’t know if it was because you were clearly more comfortable around stone cold, small talk simon than around him – sweet, caring and beautiful kyle. it didn’t make sense in his head and it pissed him off. john laughed whenever a pout made its way to kyle’s lips because you – in kyle’s words – “didn’t say a word and then just left the room” when he walked by your side during knife throwing practice. john thought it was cute, how gaz didn’t notice the way your eyes wandered the room whenever he was talking to you, but then as soon as he wasn’t looking, you’d gawk at him with an unknown glint in your eyes.

“she’s got a crush on ya, kyle,” john comments after hearing another one of the younger man’s complaints, all of them tired and sleepy after dinner – the exhaustion from the end of the first week with you around settling deep in their minds.

kyle snorts and shakes his head, “uh huh, i bet she does,” his tone is overflowing with irony. “where did ya even get that from?”

johnny, who’s resting his head on simon’s lap – laying down on the other sofa in their living room – is quick to answer, “ye dinnae see how she drools over ye, when ye nae lookin’.”

simon smiles, his relaxed expression clear due to his unmasked face. he adds to johnny’s words, his eyes on kyle, “bloody irritatin’, it is. i always try t’make her look at me but she keeps all her attention on ya.”

kyle furrows his brows, but he can’t fight the proud, content smile that molds his features. he has to bite his lower lip to contain at least some of it, but even then it’s clear that he’s happy with the words. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

and he did, because two days later he has to fight you – literally – during training. you're faster and stronger than they thought you’d be, in a way none of them had seen before in someone that wasn’t already part of the team – you mostly did gunfight simulations, this was the first hand-to-hand combat training. kyle’s is delighted to knock you off your feet, pinning your hands down to prevent you from attacking him, but you're too quick. you plant your feet to the ground and use all the strength you have in your legs to push him off of you with a hip thrust. he’s caught off guard, which gives you enough time to move over him, left knee on the grass and right knee threatening to squeeze his throat – it was over, you won. he taps your thigh twice and you quickly move to stand up, surprising him when you extend your hand out – he gladly accepts it, taking any excuse to touch you.

“you’re fast,” he points out, opening his water bottle once he has recovered his breath. 

“i’m just as fast as you,” you nod, tilting your head as you watch ghost and cap wrestling on the ground. “but i’m smaller, that has to make me more agile than you lot.”

“makes sense… still, i don’t like to lose,” he jokes, trying to inch closer – to see your reaction he thinks, but deep down he knows it’s more than that. 

you make a face, scrunching your nose. you don’t notice his movements, and that’s a good thing – you won’t have time to move away. john and ghost are up to their feet and you watch as johnny moves to the center where you’ll fight him next. you move towards the makeshift arena – the place located in a glade deep within the woods that surround their house –, but stop midway to speak, “it’s not losing, though. right?” your voice is soft, and it’s the first time kyle gets to see your true colors – just a sweet girl, like they initially thought you were. you laugh nervously and add, “i mean, we’re a team… it’s good that i’ll be able to protect you– if it ever comes to that.”

he barely hears the last part of your sentence before you’re walking towards johnny. kyle’s heart is racing, his mouth is dry and his palms are sweating – he’s nervous? where’s that even coming from? and then he sees it – the tense, shy movement of your palms being wiped on the fabric of your pants. you were nervous, your palms were sweating – and then, so was kyle's. his breath hitches, he searches for john’s eyes but he is distracted talking to you and simon. when kyle looks at johnny he’s relieved to see that the scot eyes’ were already on his. he sighs, watching as johnny mouths “it’s okay, i saw it,” and just like that reassurance washes over him – of course he saw it, if anything he might as well have felt it too. kyle only smiles then, paying close attention to the way johnny checks on him from afar one more time before joining you to begin your fighting sequence.

that’s all the proof that gaz needs to your said crush – there’s no way you could’ve connected so fast if you didn’t like him, like he thought. when they are walking back to their house, simon is quick to address the matter at hand – always the blunt one. he creeps up on kyle from behind and says, “what got ya so nervous today, lovely?” a hand touching his lower back, his voice startling kyle – who’s deep in thought – making goosebumps raise on his nape.

“yeah, turns out it wasn't really me who was that nervous,” gaz states, leaning his weight on simon’s side ever so slightly. he feels it as simon pauses a bit, movements halting just for a small moment.

“you synced with her? that soon?” simon shakes his head, but kyle can feel just how happy he is at the notion – how proud he feels, knowing kyle is giving you space in their life already. kyle wants to get to his knees and match the love simon feels – but the thought itself could set off a chain reaction and god knows they can’t have that in the middle of the woods. simon squeezes gaz’s waist – probably feeling his inner turmoil –, pulling him in a side hug as he whispers, “we told ya she has a crush.”

after that, it got really easy for you and kyle to gravitate towards each other. the others watched amazed at the way you started smiling more around him – sometimes even giggling when he did something to catch your attention. you couldn’t help it, he was just so tender and understanding, sometimes it even seemed like kyle could read your mind. like the one time you had to go to base to show some results of your training tests. in the drive back to your houses, you were riding shotgun with simon as your designated driver – like most of the times, really. his warm body and the three big men in the backseat seemed to have a thing for cold spaces, because the AC was turned to the max and your poor, easily cold frame was nearly shaking from it. you didn't complain, though, trying to not be a burden and disturb their usual dynamic. good for you it wasn’t necessary, kyle felt the discomfort like it was his own. his fingers tapped simon's shoulder, pointing to the AC button after getting his attention. simon quickly turned it down and your immediate relaxation was visible to all of them – you yourself didn’t notice your hunched shoulders until you relaxed on the leather seat. when you looked back to find kyle’s eyes he simply winked at you, mouthing “i gotcha, love” with a smile. you let out a smile of your own, letting it brighten up your face and then you whispered “thank you, pretty boy,” your voice trying to match the flirty implication in his.

simon chuckled, hands shifting on the steering wheel to keep himself from finding your thigh. he could feel it, not only kyle’s content in having your attention – his satisfaction in being the object of your affection – but also your own happiness, your pride in allowing yourself to share a somewhat vulnerable moment with him. simon bites his lips, he can only hope that soon enough he'll get to hear the same whispered words, but directed to him. he knew it wasn't going to take long, since he didn't expect to sync with your emotions so soon and yet there he was, basking in your happy state. 

you didn’t understand how you could feel so utterly happy with such small things – like you feel it four times more. the way you stopped getting so fidgety around them was hint enough – but then you'd get extra happy around kyle. and then, you get extra joyful whenever you are close to them, any of them. simon is the first one to get the physical extension of your – affectionate – admiration. whenever he'd step to your side to talk to you when you were already occupied, you’d touch his forearm slightly – letting him know that you know he's there, “just hang on a second”.

you'd hold him until you finish whatever it is that you're doing, and then you’d turn to face him, eyes on his – a glint of something endearing in them – and an apology on the tip of your tongue, “sorry, what was it you wanted to say?” and he'd always fight the urge to kiss your forehead then, addressing whatever he wanted to say before.

one time he forgets to eat before your daily training on the glade, and mid way through training he feels lightheaded – weak. it was rare for it to happen, and his mood goes all the way to hell because now he's hungry and grumpy, the effects of the physical activities only summing up his hangry state. he had just finished fighting with johnny – knocking him off his feet way too fast –, sitting on an old, layed out tree near the makeshift arena, when you touched his bicep softly.

simon could never snap at any of his teammates, you were no different. he tries to keep his cool, choosing to stay quiet and letting you do the talking first. 

“i've got this… uh, piece of pie that I baked yesterday,” you start, hands holding out the small, glass container where it was displayed a very delicious looking pie. simon looks up at you in wonder and you two stare at each other – blinking once, twice – before you speak again, “do you want it?”

“if i want to eat it?” he furrows his brows. why’d you have to do this right when he's hungry and ready to punch someone? you’re too much of a sweetheart.

“yeah…” you answer, not really knowing what else to say. truth be told, you didn’t know what made you ask that. you usually packed a small container of food for yourself to eat during training because sometimes it was all that helped you to get through the exhausting routine. but today something in the back of your mind was itching, telling you to hand it to simon. so you did. “seems like you need it.”

simon takes the container in his big hands, the smell of the sweet pie knocking him out for a second. you hand him a small fork, to which he thanks you with a mumble, and you watch as he pulls his mask up a bit and takes a big first bite of your baking. he eats it quite fast, earning a ‘calm down, love, it’s not going to run’ from you – and he almost chokes when he hears the pet name, it reaches a deep part of his mind. when he's done he closes the container with the fork inside, saying “i’ll bring this home and give it back t’ya filled with something tasty”. you don't question, of course, maybe he was just being polite – actually, he just wanted an excuse to cook something for you.

when you get back to the arena to your combat training, he's feeling as light as a feather – with a full belly and warm heart. you eye him for a second, a wave of fondness taking over your body and you giggle. the feeling is what you imagine being wrapped in simon's arms would be, and in a way it feels like you're being mentally drowned by him, him, him. when you check up on him one last time, he's staring at you – the hint of a smile visible from the scrunched lines around his eyes.

on the walk home, you can’t hear the end of it. johnny is by your side the whole way, asking – pleading – for you to give him a piece of the pie too. he just loves baked sweet treats, and he thinks you look like a pretty decent cook, so why would you deny it to him? you can’t hold the laugh that escapes your lips, hand playfully slapping his arm as he talks with you – the both of you walking a bit behind the other three.

you take the moment to try and grow a bit closer to him, “tell you what, if you give me a piggyback ride home, i’ll let you inside for some tea and pie.” your eyes have a teasing glint in them, your voice molding a fake conspiratorial whisper.

johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, urging a yelp out of you with the way he’s effortlessly picking you up the second after you finish your sentence. you secure your arms around his shoulders, head playfully knocking on his before you rest altogether.

he takes a faster pace, catching up with the others as he lets out a “look what i have,” in between giggles. 

john smiles, wholeheartedly so. he knew how much johnny had been walking on eggshells around you and how he'd been neglecting himself for your comfort. he also knew how much you'd love him when you finally grew used to him – he's only ever going to make you feel loved.

kyle calls out for the two of you, playfully yelling about betrayal and favoritism. you giggle again, hugging johnny almost intimately as you whisper “don’t let him catch us” in his ear – failing to see the way he leans into you instantly, goosebumps trailing down his neck –, and that's how you end up being chased all the way to your house by kyle, whilst still tightly secured in johnny's back.

“they’re so similar to one another,” john murmurs to simon, who's still walking by his side.

“they are,” simon hums contemplatively. he and john watch as kyle catches the two of you, hugging johnny from behind and locking you between their bodies. “it's crazy how she just fitted right in.”

“it is, innit? thought the problem was going to be something else,” john answers, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he watches you wiggle out of the boys’ embrace and run to the opposite direction – and the way they run after you like in some comic animation, in a heartbeat. “turns out the real problem is keeping these three alive, they’ll figure out the rest.”

you scream, caught off guard when kyle picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, turning to walk towards your front door that had long come into view.

you clutch his shirt, trying to sound stern but failing miserably, your laughter completely taking away all seriousness of your sentence, “kyle! kyle, put me down!” 

“nuh uh, love,” kyle talks back, chuckling and shoving johnny off – who was trying to get you back in his arms.

you try to look up, and quickly recognize the two upside down figures walking right behind you, so you pull them into the mix without a care – you were just so happy –, “cap, cap! please, help me,” you say, and squeal when kyle jumps a bit to shake you on his shoulders. “ah, LT– i fed you, how can you do this to me?” 

you gasp comically in your position, hearing how simon laughs at you. he looks over to price who only shakes his head and throws an arm over the lieutenant's shoulders. kyle lets you down on your porch, hands smoothing your hair down to which you answer with a playful glare.

you take your keys out, unlocking the door and taking your boots off. “y’all can only get inside if you take your shoes off. house rules,” you state, leaving the door open as you make your way to the kitchen.

you hear the sound of them fumbling around and then the click of the door being pushed closed as you put water on a kettle and into the fire, moving to take the pie out of the oven – where you usually kept it. when you turn to place the container on the island you notice how they all seem curious over the space – right, you forgot that it was their first time there.

“you guys want a tour…?” you question from where you’re standing in the kitchen, watching as they turn to look at you from the living room.

“that’d be nice,” johnny answers, looking around – trying to carve every detail to his brain. “been dying tae see yer home.”

you grimace, moving past them and motioning for them to follow. “not really home yet,” you mumble, risking a bit of honesty. it was the first time you’d talk about the conditions of your recent life, “most of the days i can’t sleep.”

john glances over your frame – the words pricking his mind. as you walk around the house, your voice is the only audible thing while you point which room is what. once you're back in the kitchen, the men choose to sit at the kitchen island – to watch you closely in your domestic routine, like this happens everyday – john can’t help but ask, “you’ve been having trouble sleeping?” the urge to drop a ‘sweetheart’ being almost unbearable.

“yeah, s' just… ‘m used to city noise and all that shit,” you reply, avoiding his eyes – occupying yourself with settling down the mugs and plates you'd use. “it’s too quiet here, it's unsettling.”

“i get that, it took me a while to get used to it too,” john shares, his tone comforting and reassuring. “you’re always welcome to knock on our door if ya need anything, y’know?”

you smile at his attempt in making you feel better, his caring personality is something you admire in him. “thanks, cap,” you mumble, moving forward to let your arm touch his – great, real smooth, now he’ll think i’m touch starved— you think to yourself.

only to be met with his hand circling your middle, pulling you closer. his voice is lower when he speaks, but all the boys can make out what he’s saying, “y’know you can call me john, sweetheart…”

and the hot feeling in your cheek is nothing compared to the insane rhythm of your heartbeat. they all notice your flustered state, but they can tell you like it – the pure bliss you feel at the small display of intimacy, the proof that you’re one of them now, that you’re theirs.

surprisingly – or not –, is johnny who breaks the silence, “it was about time,” is almost like a whisper, none of them want to disturb the new harmony you managed to fall into. “thought ye’d only call kyle by his name.”

you furrow your brows, confused – and surprised he talked so openly about it, but enjoying nonetheless. you don’t think twice before answering, “what do you mean? i always call you by your name.” you leave john’s side to take the kettle out the stove, making the tea and plating the pie’s slices for them. 

johnny talks all throughout your movements, “trust me, bonny,” and he sounds absolutely serious, “i would remember if ye did.”

you look up at him as you hand them their respective plates and mugs, getting caught off guard by the look in his eyes – he’s dead serious. you let out a giggle, making a point of saying, “okay then, johnny,” his name rolling heavy in your voice, your teasing tone doing things to his poor mind. “would you guys like some sugar? or milk?”

and just like that, it’s like he’s never even brought up the conversation. you spend a nice, long afternoon talking and laughing – getting to know each other. you quickly realize that you’re somewhat close to all of them, except for johnny – which is odd, because he's the most extroverted of you all. you feel johnny seeping through your walls, and by the end of your little gathering you already feel comfortable enough to hug him goodbye – actually, you pull him into your arms like some unspoken apology and he quietly whispers “it’ll get better from now on”. and you believe him.

not only that, you can feel it deep into your bones – all of their certainty. the way they’re all confident that they have you just as much as you have them, and that you’re already halfway through pursuing a real bond – trust, affection, true intimacy.

series masterlist a/n: next part we'll have more of price and johnny, don't worry. | taglist: @fruitymoonbeams-blog @little-mini-me-world @bath1lda @imthatone-annoyingfriend @night-shadowblood-writes2 @z-wantstowrite @kentuckyhobbit @supernova2205 @thatghostlykid

[sirfrogsworth]

Clinging to sanity

Summary of this post...

My brain is broken. My A/C is broken. My phone is broken. My computer is broken. My support system is broken. My financial stability is broken. My family is broken.

And the big finale...

Please give Froggie a Yelp review to repair his relationship with his estranged uncles.

Seriously, I need a whole bunch of you to say nice things about me in a convoluted plan to get back the money my brother stole from my dying father.

If you don't feel like reading all of my broken stuff and just want to read about giving me a good review as a person, you can skip to the bullet point list at the end.

Alright, here we go...

I sometimes get in these states where I feel like my sanity is compromised. My mental defenses are minimal and I lose the filter on my brain that tells me "this is a good idea" or "this is a bad idea."

This causes me to say embarrassing things. I overshare with strangers. I keep myself from falling asleep because I have some amazing idea. But when I wake up in the morning I can't believe I lost all of that sleep for such a ridiculous idea. I write weird posts that no one likes. Or I post about controversial subjects like A.I. and trans people and RFK Jr. that I *know* will result in contentious feedback.

And my insane brain says, "You can handle it! Besides, you are so factually correct about this, no one will dare question your meticulous research. IT'S ALL GOOD! SEND IT, YOLO!"

I have a rule. If I am not emotionally or mentally prepared to defend my point of view on a controversial subject, I should wait until I am ready to publish.

Insane Froggie Brain ignores this rule.

After I "send it" and the negative feedback starts to flow in (even though I was assured by my brain it wouldn't), I become afraid to look at messages and replies and reblogs. And a lot of times I need that sense of community. I need to talk to my cool little community so I don't feel lonely. But Insane Froggie Brain cuts me off from that. I give myself all of this anxiety that could have been avoided by just posting another time.

And because I have no emotional defenses, that anxiety is amplified. Mean comments hurt much more. I obsess over them and my OCD causes thought feedback loops where I cannot get something out of my brain. I once couldn't sleep for a weekend because someone said I was wrong about how light reflects off the moon. They were right and I was also right but they said I was "misleading." And that just lived in my brain for days. I kept trying to think of new ways to better explain my point of view. I used up energy I didn't really have to take pictures of a baseball in a dark closet.

It was silly. It didn't matter. It was just a small disagreement. But OCD doesn't do small. OCD makes everything BIG.

What I'm trying to say is...

People need their emotional defenses.

People need their filters.

It's weird because I still have full access to my logical brain. So sane thoughts get all mixed in with the less sane ones. Sometimes I am self aware and can shut down the less sane ideas. Other times I am oblivious. And I *hate* losing control of my brain in any way. It's one of the reasons I've never touched alcohol. Which is why I get very disturbed when this happens.

I remember one time I was positive I was going to move to Florida and start a pet photography business. I had an entire business plan worked out where I trained people how to take the photos so the business could run itself if I got sick. I made an entire PowerPoint presentation to show Katrina so she would be my business partner. I was looking up rent prices for office space. I was making equipment lists for camera gear. She was going on a trip so she told me I could talk to her about it when she returned. And I am so lucky she wasn't available at the time.

Maybe if I had a normal person's energy, I could make something like that work. But once I returned to sanity, I realized it was orders of magnitude more complicated than anything I was actually capable of doing. I am still planning to do pet photography, but I have to come up with a more reasonable plan that does not involve Insane Froggie Brain.

I think it is just my ambitious mind trying to escape. Chronic illness is often heartbreaking because you have to temper all of your ambitions. And it is especially devastating when you are a very ambitious person, as I am.

I want to have all of these big ideas. But I have to filter them through reality. And when that filter is broken, I just unleash big ideas on all my friends. I once even held an official video chat meeting and we took notes and made plans. And I feel so guilty I wasted 4 people's time like that. None of those ideas happened. They had no chance of happening with my energy levels. But my friends and collaborators still did the meeting and nodded along like everything was fine. I appreciate them humoring me.

I also overshare. I overshare normally, but when I get like this I OVER SHARE. You are probably going to witness it in this very post. But I tell everyone everything about what is going on. I tell strangers. I tell a dog walking by.

"Hey doggie, my testosterone is returning and I'm struggling with having a libido again. I know most people would not complain, but it is very disruptive to my day! I have other things I want to do!"

Right now I am just not confident in anything I think or do. I wrote a post about social constructs yesterday. That literally took me all day to write. I was endlessly tweaking it and I thought it was going to be viral and helpful and win the trans debate for everyone.

It currently has 49 notes.

I'm afraid I did not fix trans rights.

Sorry about that.

And my rant about Christopher Nolan using IMAX is doing pretty well. I nerded out about film grain for like 2 paragraphs and it is getting way more notes than a philosophical perspective on constructs.

I just have no idea what people are going to like and I used to be pretty good at judging that. It's like I'm throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks but instead of a wall I'm throwing it into the void. The spaghetti just disappears into infinite darkness.

I'm clearly still recovering from the big house clean with Katrina. And I am more tired than normal. But I am also very stressed about losing the house. I'm trying to figure it out, but I may only have until the end of June before I have to make some scary decisions.

And also, my air conditioner is not working. It has a leaky evaporator. Last year, I had it recharged and that lasted the entire summer. If the leak is leaking at the same rate, I could just do that again. It would be expensive, but replacing the evaporator is so costly, I'd be better off getting a heat pump installed. I'm a good candidate, it could save me money in the long run, but I am nowhere near in a position to make that happen.

Also, my phone is falling apart.

Literally. The only thing keeping it together is the phone case.

And this laptop, which I love, was not meant to be my main computer. I bought it when my dad was sick and I needed something upstairs to manage his prescriptions and bills and appointments. It wasn't meant to be an image editing machine. And, to their credit, Apple has made a crazy powerful little computer. I admit it, I love an Apple product. It can handle way more than expected. But my photo restorations can sometimes end up with 5 gigabyte files. I can't even save them as PSDs. I have to use this weird "PSB" format. It stands for "Photoshop Big." When I fill up the RAM, my computer uses the main SSD. And when I fill that up, I think I can hear the laptop crying and saying, "I wasn't meant for this! Please use fewer layers!"

But I need to finish restoring these photos because I have delayed their completion by about 5 months (got sick before I could finish). And also because I need to pay for the A/C recharge.

You might be thinking, "Didn't you fundraise to get the big fancy powerful computer of your dreams a few years ago? Why don't you use that?"

My big fancy computer has been broken almost since I got it.

It was right before my mom got really sick and there is a major hardware problem. I worked with tech support for over a month and we could not figure out what the issue was. The computer is mostly unusable. Like, "can't even web browse" unusable.

It honestly has caused me so much depression. Like deep, deep, crying-myself-to-sleep-for-weeks depression. I still cry about it. I know it is just a thing, but I am genuinely heartbroken about it.

Why haven't I fixed it? I'm a good computer fixer, right?

Once I had to take care of my parents, I just did not have any extra energy to deal with it. After a month of back-and-forth emails from the manufacturer, I finally told them, "I'm sorry, my parents are sick. I will email you when I have the energy to revisit this."

If you know my story and how I took care of my parents all alone because I have a neglectful brother, then you can probably guess that energy never came.

I am good at tech support. I have been an expert in computers since I was a teenager. I have taken apart and built computers more times than I can count. I have never had a problem this frustrating before. It works fine for a few hours, and then it just progressively slows down to being unusable. I narrowed the issue to either the SSD, the CPU, or the motherboard. All things that are not easy to replace. (The SSD is behind the damn GPU.)

In the 30s, the Royal Air Force used to have issues with their planes that baffled them. This is where the term "gremlin" came from. No matter what they did, no matter how many parts they replaced, they could not get the "gremlin" out of the plane. These were professional mechanics who just could not fix something and it drove them nuts.

I have a computer gremlin. I've never experienced anything like it in all of my years of fixing computers. I was working with professional tech support people. I was on reddit forums. And the only thing left to do was start swapping out parts. I'd work on it maybe an hour each day with whatever energy I had and it eventually was too much. I just could not deal with it. They told me to send it back, but I could not take care of my parents without any access to a computer. So I just rebooted it every time I used it.

At that point, my parents were requiring 24/7 care and I was so overwhelmed that I said, "fuck it" and ordered this laptop. I figured I'd fix the computer when I had time or energy. But that time and energy never came. And I certainly didn't have the energy to haul a 60 pound computer upstairs, box it up, and then take it to UPS. So I just kept putting it off and putting it off.

And I let the warranty expire.

When I realized I did that, I cried myself to sleep for another few weeks. This material object has caused me legitimate emotional trauma.

Any part replacements are now on me. And there isn't really any way of knowing which part is faulty. I figured I'd buy a cheap SSD and start there.

I feel so fucking guilty because people donated money for me to have that machine. I feel like I let them all down by not getting it fixed. When I finish my recovery, I'm hoping I can sort it out. But that could be many months from now.

Recovery has been such a dark, lonely place. Trying to restore my health a millimeter at a time is a grueling marathon of misery. I have been struggling to keep Insane Froggie Brain at bay this entire time.

I felt like I was stuck in a hole.

And like a superhero with the power of friendship and puns, Katrina pulled me out of the giant hole I was in. My house turned into a biohazard. She flew from Florida to essentially clean and organize everything. How do you even begin to thank someone for that?

But also, she shouldn't have had to do that. I have a perfectly functional brother. But he hasn't spoken to me for nearly a year now.

I have other family in town. But I missed so many family gatherings over the years, they don't really know me. None of them have called. I'd have to rebuild those relationships if I want them to be a part of my life again.

And I haven't talked about this yet because it has been too painful.

But... my support system fell apart.

My aunt had to move away to take care of her father-in-law. A year before my mom passed she took care of my grandma as her end-of-life caregiver. And people should only have to do that once. But she has to do it again, and unfortunately, we haven't been able to speak much.

We were very good at keeping in touch in real life. But she is of an older generation and has trouble maintaining relationships on a smartphone. I mean, I get it. Some people are just better at meatspace than cyberspace. That was actually one of the things I liked about our bond. Almost all of my friendships are online. Having someone who liked to visit me and talk to me in person was special.

But, for the time being, I lost that. And it feels a bit like temporarily losing another parent.

I am struggling to even start writing the words for this next part.

I had two best friends. Katrina and I are great. Our friendship is probably better than it has ever been.

But my other best friend of nearly 15 years ghosted me without explanation.

I haven't talked about it because it has been too hard. Any time I try to think about it I get upset. My eyes are filling up with tears as I type this.

I have been pretending like it isn't happening.

Which is not working great.

I've been trying to hire a therapist.

They all have months-long waiting lists.

My friend just stopped talking to me and I don't know why.

They went from driving across the country and holding my hand at my dad's funeral to just not being a part of my life.

I'm so scared I said something terrible or did something terrible. I keep going through all of my memories trying to figure out what I could have done. But we had the kind of friendship where we'd talk about that stuff. If I screw up, they would tell me. We'd work it out.

This person who was in my life nearly every week for over a decade is just not there anymore. I keep losing people and I can't make it stop. And I am really worried that I am leaning on Katrina too much. She went from being part of a multifaceted support system to my entire support system. That isn't fair to her.

She has been very understanding. And she knows I am going to rebuild a support system as soon as I am able. But I don't want to overwhelm her and lose her too.

Weaning off this medication and living with no testosterone has been so miserable and she has been the only one helping me through it.

I'm doing so well with my recovery. I think I can be off the meds in 3 months and hopefully my testosterone will be fully back in range. I'm already more productive than I have been in nearly 8 months.

But I have 1 month of financial runway left and I am not going to get well enough before then.

Everything happens all at once. Every single time. And usually terrible things happen in my life at the same time terrible things happen in Katrina's life. She had terrible mold that destroyed her health for months. Thankfully it did not turn her transphobic, but it sure fucked her health for a while. She made all of this progress getting fit and healthy and BAM, the universe says, "You are doing too well, you need a challenge!"

So, what is my plan?

I am a problem solver and I have some doozies to solve.

Right now I am going to appeal to the family patriarchs on my dad's side. On his literal deathbed, my dad asked his brothers to "take care of me" and I am going to attempt to call in that favor.

I am going to ask them to talk to my brother and hopefully mediate a solution regarding the stolen inheritance. I want them to convince my brother to do the right thing and return the money he took from my dad.

Sorry, the money he "legally inherited" due to his wife "reinterpreting my dad's wishes" in the will.

Before you ask, I have no options to fight this in court. A verbal promise is not enough to overturn a written will. And the cost of fighting would be more than the inheritance. Please don't suggest any legal advice. I've talked to good lawyers. And unless I want to sue for emotional distress, there aren't any legal options available.

The best option is to appeal to my brother personally and ask him to keep his promise to my dad.

The only reason I am in this mess is because my brother repeatedly promised to give me the money. He said he didn't want it on multiple occasions. So all of my plans involved the expectation of this money. I was going to fix up the basement apartment and seek a roommate.

But it took over a year to just get it out of probate. A year I could have used to come up with other solutions. But he waited until the last minute and made his lawyer tell me he was screwing me.

I'm sure my brother will argue my dad knew what he was signing. But I know that is impossible. Before my dad passed, we were in the hospital and I saw the will for the first time. I asked him if it reflected his wishes. And I asked him if he meant to include my brother's wife in the will.

His response was, "Are you fucking kidding me???"

Readers, does that sound like a man that knew what was in his will?

Dad was so upset that he was about to have them cut off his leg just so he could live a few more weeks and fix the will.

You have to give my dad credit, he goes pretty hardcore when it comes to protecting his family.

I couldn't let him go through an amputation to protect me from my brother's shenanigans.

But I am pretty screwed now.

That said, my uncles are pretty hardcore too. One is *very* intimidating. So I feel like my uncles talking to my brother might carry some weight.

But I have one problem...

I mean, aside from the myriad problems already described.

How about... I have one additional problem...

My uncles don't like me very much.

They think I am a basement-dwelling loser who is faking his illness and was taking advantage of his parents for two decades.

One uncle even accused me of stealing from my dad.

They are protective of their brother. They loved my dad. Which is a good thing! As long as I can convince them that their assumptions about me are invalid, I think their love for my dad will compel them to help me.

They just don't have the context. They don't know me. They live in far-off lands. And due to some unfortunate timing, one uncle saw me at one of the lowest points of my life. This was maybe 8 years ago? He didn't realize I was thrown into the deep end and very recently took on the role as full-time caregiver for two very sick people.

My awful strategy at the time was "if I don't take care of myself, I'll have more energy to take care of my parents." If you are a caregiver, this is a bad strategy. It seems obvious you have to do some self care to give care to others, but when you are just starting out, that seems impossible.

My uncle showed up unannounced and I wasn't showered, I hadn't brushed my teeth in a week, and my room had a fun layer of trash on the floor. The trash can was overflowing and I literally did not have the spare energy to change the bag.

To make matters worse, my mom's medications and constant pain had broken the filter in her brain that prevents her from saying mean things. She was on this crazy chemo-like infusion that was basically using poison to fight her psoriatic arthritis. Her aggressive, blunt remarks were not her fault. That wasn't who she was. But she could not stop herself from saying hurtful things.

The kindest woman alive was suddenly Don Rickles without the "just kidding" subtext. And my uncle didn't know this and I got into an argument with my mom.

I probably looked like a pampered brat loser who just lies in bed and plays video games all day while arguing with his saint of a mother.

I don't blame him. Without context, that's exactly what it looked like.

So I am writing my uncles a letter.

It is essentially a memoir of the caregiving I gave to my parents. I hope to publish it publicly at some point, but right now it is just a letter to them. If it were a typical hardcover book, it would be about 70 pages long.

I am telling them everything.

If nothing else, I just need them to know my dad's story. I need them to know he was well taken care of. That I did everything humanly possible to make his last year as comfortable as I could. I need them to know he was *never* alone.

Sadly, because they probably think I am an unreliable narrator, I am my own worst witness. So I am asking 3 people in my current support system to write testimony to verify everything in my memoir is accurate. I even have a doctor's note!

It is probably insane to put this much effort into convincing my uncles to like me. But I'm pretty sure Sane Froggie Brain is behind the wheel of this endeavor. Sometimes the craziest, most desperate idea is the only option left.

Basically I am using my writing skills to try and save my Froggie butt.

I don't mean to be braggadocious, but people perusing my prose persistently pontificate that I am proficient at penning pleasing passages.

People say I write good sometimes.

And I think this memoir letter thingie is the best thing I've ever written. So I am hopeful I will deflate these dubious assumptions and tug on my uncles' heartstrings.

But there is something you all can do to help me.

A friend on tumblr is helping me edit this memoir monstrosity. And she gave me her testimonial to add to my 3 witnesses.

"I have been following The Frogman for well over a decade on his website. It was years before I learned his name was Benjamin! We all just call him Froggy. He was (and still is) one of the funniest internet guys out there. He is incredibly skilled at putting together humorous GIFs and photo sets, and his comedic writing is second to none. He regularly goes viral. Along with that, he was open and vulnerable about the toll CFS takes on him. I can attest to many folks over the years telling him that he has helped them as they dealt with their own health issues. He is so knowledgeable about so much--his posts are famous for being long, detailed, and wildly informative. And most of all, entertaining. They are a joy to read. We also followed along on his heartbreaking journey with his parents. He shared so much of them with us over the years that they felt like people we knew. It was so clear, from his long absences, how much he was doing for them. Our hearts broke when he told us his parents were no longer with us. Froggy has fans, and so did his parents. Otis, too. We love and support him and will always wish him the best."

It made me cry.

But it also felt like getting a Yelp review on... my entire deal.

And it gave me an idea.

What if I had a bunch of these as optional testimony for my uncles?

I'm not going to force them to read what a bunch of internet strangers have to say. But it could be a compelling way to prove my website antics were a serious attempt to build a livelihood for myself. My uncles were successful businessmen and respect a strong work ethic and trying to make your own way.

I was too early for monetization options like Patreon, TikTok, YouTube, and Twitch, but I ran a very successful comedy blog. If I had my 2013 success in the 2020s, I probably would've been able to retire and live off that for the rest of my life. I have several original GIFs that were downloaded tens of millions of times. Google said one of them was searched for over 100,000,000 times.

My blog was silly, but I took it seriously and I had sponsors and merch and an Otis plush.

They think what I did was like when you are at the family Christmas gathering and you ask your weird cousin what he's been up to and he says, "I run a blog about corgis from my parents' basement."

How do I relate the impact I had? They don't know what "Know Your Meme" is. They don't know what being on the front page of Reddit means. They don't know the amazing community I built. They don't know that I created one of the largest and most generous online support systems one could possibly have. I'm still alive and trying to make a life for myself because all of you continue to love and support me.

I was successful and I worked hard despite my disability.

I just had bad timing with the financial aspect of that success.

So, if you want to leave a Yelp review of The Frogman for my uncles, I'd appreciate it.

I came up with a list of things I need to prove to them. I'm just going to copy/paste the entire thing here. I'll strikethrough the ones you all probably can't speak to.

I am not a basement dwelling loser.

My website was more than a silly hobby.

I did not mooch off my parents for 20+ years.

I did not steal from my parents.

I am not the crazed, awkward mess [my uncle] witnessed.

I am disabled.

I cannot get a job.

I am a good person.

I am a likable person.

I was a good son.

I took good care of my parents.

My parents would not have been better off in a nursing home.

My parents would not have been better off moving closer to my brother.

My brother and his wife neglected and emotionally abused Mom & Dad.

My brother and his wife changed the will to benefit them against my mom & dad’s wishes.

My brother promised repeatedly the will was a mistake and I would receive the full amount.

I did not take care of my parents to “retain the house” or get money.

So, if you want to attempt to convince two elderly conservative Catholic men that my cat memes were lit, I would appreciate the help.

If you’ve been part of this community, and you’ve ever felt like I made you laugh, cry, or feel understood, a short 'review' of me as a person could mean the world.

Just remember your audience is...

Uncle #1: A stoic, but brilliant 80 year old who writes text messages like they are business emails. Complete with "Dear Ben" and "Regards, Your Uncle". He is still very sharp-minded and lucid. He thinks success is a high paying job, a house, and a family (my brother). He does not like weakness and consistently thought I should "be an adult and get a job." He is very loyal and respected my dad very much.

Uncle #2: A 60-something retired grandpa who thinks his constant dad jokes are genuinely funny. He is empathetic, but secretly judgmental. He will act like your best friend even if he doesn't care for you. He is an amazing grandpa. Very involved with his kids and their kids. He keeps every video of them getting a goal in sportsball on his phone. He will help you if you think you deserve to be helped. He is very close with Uncle #1.

So... kinda running the gamut there.

You can reblog this post or leave a reply or send a private message or email me at frogman54@gmail.com

I will be anonymizing your names for obvious reasons.

I fear my uncles might not understand why Tumblr user "PokemonAssBlaster69" is saying nice things about me.

Explaining "The Frogman" is hard enough.

Anyway, thank you in advance.

[hoshifighting]

I can’t wait for the day you decide to give us staff woozi😭🫶 Like yes give me that man ⚰️⚰️⚰️

staff!woozi

WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.

staff!woozi who’s practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds don’t fry your brain mid-show. he’s always just there—like this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, you’re kinda finding it cute now. he doesn’t even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.

you’re halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signal—a quick point down—he’s already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like he’s got some big secret: “left one’s crackling again?”

you turn, one eyebrow up. “damn, woozi, you psychic now or what?”

he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. “you’re predictable,” he says, but there’s that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, which—yeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.

he’s fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear it’s like watching magic. “you keep playing with ‘em too much. one more yank, and i’m replacing it.”

“not my fault they suck,” you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.

“try it again..” he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. he’s already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, it’s jihoon. he’s on his perfectionist shit.

“testin’… one, two…” you go through it, all monotone, like you’re recitin’ a grocery list.

he glances up, hands fiddlin’ with some random connector piece, but he’s noddin’, brows all scrunched up like he’s concentratin’ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookin’ at you, he says, “speak up like you’re actually performin’—not just for me.”

staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.

“i am performin’,” you toss back, brows raised. “just, y’know, waitin’ for the tech crew to keep up.”

he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when he’s two seconds away from roastin’ you to death. “keep up? alright, superstar, let’s get your fancy ass mic workin’ then.”

staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, there’s no space to breathe—let alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.

“how can you even breathe in these? hold still.” he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.

“this is… really necessary?” you breathe out, tryin’ to keep your voice casual, even though your heart’s doin’ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.

he doesn’t even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippin’ over itself. “unless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot… yeah, this is necessary.”

his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. you’re caught somewhere between wantin’ to annoyingly roll your eyes or “hornyly” roll your eyes.

staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, you’ve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesn’t complain—just settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.

but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. “y’know, there are other seats.”

you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. he’s lookin’ all pompous, like he’s finally pieced together your little routine. “it’s just… comfortable,” you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelin’ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.

he chuckles, a sound that’s too close to teasing. “oh, so i’m a human pillow now?”

“pretty much,” you mutter, pretendin’ to yawn. “it’s just… efficient.”

next thing you know, you’re both out cold, side by side, and the crew’s gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the team’s trying not to laugh.

staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. you’re sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and there’s woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. you’ve seen him do this before—earbuds in, watchin’ his anime.

so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leanin’ over his shoulder, catchin’ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng

“you’re into this?” you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.

he pulls one earbud out, glancin’ at you like he’s deciding whether or not to share his “serious” interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and you’re nodding, totally faking that you get it, but he’s so damn into it, you can’t help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.

when you’re waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you don’t know half of what’s going on, but jihoon’s talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like it’s life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.

you don’t know how you ended up here, exactly— n woozi’s hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but you’re here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like he’s watching some masterpiece.

it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and you’d swear woozi’s eyes practically lit up when you said you’d “totally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.” it became your thing on tour—grabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.

but right now? you’re barely paying attention to the screen. woozi’s sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like he’s been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didn’t even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like he’s giving you a whole show without even trying.

“are you even watching?” he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.

“oh, yeah, totally!” you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. “i know… exactly… what’s going on here.” but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.

staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused it’s like he’s analyzing every frame. you’re beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so often—at first just a quick look to make sure you’re out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. you’d been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasn’t a surprise.

but then, he hears it—his name, whispered under your breath, soft like it’s the only thing on your mind even while you’re dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like you’re holding onto some sweet secret even he isn’t supposed to know.

and suddenly, he’s more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.

woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.

staff!woozi, who’s suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didn’t just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure things’ll be back to normal—you’ve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, he’s keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like he’s suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.

you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didn’t notice.

you huff. “yo, what’s your deal? i’m just trying to sleep, and you’re over here playing hard-to-get?”

he glances over, raising an eyebrow.

“don’t act like you’re too good for it.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you let me last night.”

“yeah, well, I’m not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.”

you nudge him with your elbow. “since when did you start caring about your neck, huh? you’re literally hunched over soundboards for a living.”

he shoots you a side-eye. “and maybe that’s why i need to protect it now.”

you snicker, leaning back, but there’s that stubborn pout on your face. “whatever, woozi. don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you didn’t sleep enough watching the show without me.”

you’re still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it — just a low mumble under his breath. “not my fault you were… moaning my name last night…”

your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. “excuse me?” you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.

he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and he’s already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.

you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream you’d had flooding back—heat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.

“so… you heard that?”

his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression he’s clinging to. “yeah, uh… kinda hard to miss...?”

you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you can’t resist sneaking a glance at him. he’s biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear there’s a faint smirk he’s trying to hide.

“god, woozi, you could’ve just… i dunno, woken me up or something!” you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.

“yeah, right,” he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. “like you’d want that.”

[eunandonly]

BOYNEXTDOOR WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP ON THEM

you just feel like home to me, soft and cosy and so very peaceful ─── that my guard started slipping before i even noticed

'𝐸 . boynextdoor + fem. reader 1199 · friends to lovers fluff reactions ୨୧ skinship, unestablished relationship archive

은혜 : this is the first work i'm posting after a good month or so >< i've been so busy with exams and other things but i pulled through and wrote this during a period that freed up during school!! it's not my best work, but i hope you guys still enjoy!! i'll try my best to be more active ~

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

myung jaehyun

jaehyun talks when he’s nervous. which is why your study session has mostly been him filling the silence with scattered thoughts about how unfair the history exam was, how the teacher stole his phone just because his alarm rang and how one of your classmates cheated but he “won’t name names.”

at some point though, he realises that you’ve stopped replying. he glances to his side. you’re slumped slightly forward, your arm bent beneath your head, fast asleep beside your open textbook and notes.

“you’re actually sleeping,” jaehyun mutters, his lips jutting out the slightest bit. “did i bore you that much?”

still, jaehyun shifts, shrugging his hoodie off to gently drape it over your shoulders. he pauses for a second before pulling it snug around you, careful not to wake you before sitting back, blinking down at his untouched question booklet.

he frowns.

“could’ve told me if i was boring you,” he mumbles, but his words don’t have bite. “and i don’t know what these questions mean.”

he doesn’t even pretend to study anymore. he just sits beside you, flipping your pen between his fingers and watching you breathe like it’s the most interesting thing he’s seen. you’ll definitely be mad when you wake up to see all the unanswered questions in his book, but that’s a problem for another time. 

park sungho

you’ve been holed up at your usual corner booth, textbooks and half finished drinks scattered across the table. sungho’s voice had been the only constant. low, steady, teasing you every so often when you lost focus mid sentence, probably because you hadn’t slept in a good day and a half.

“you always make me carry the conversation,” sungho mutters, nudging your cup closer.

but you didn’t reply. he turns towards you, sarcasm loaded, and then stops cold.

your head is resting on your folded arms, face buried against the sleeve of your sweater. you’re fast asleep, the kind of sleep that only comes after fighting it for way too long.

“seriously?” he mumbles. “you fall asleep on me of all people?”

sungho leans back in the booth, tipping his head against the cushion, and sighs. “you’re lucky i like you,” he says quietly, glancing at your peaceful face.

when your shoulder slumps a little, he instinctively reaches out to steady you, arm looping behind you without thinking. his hand brushes your back once, like he’s checking to see if you’re real. or maybe he’s just making sure you’re still breathing after he saw you take three cans of red bull yesterday afternoon,

lee sanghyuk

you’re both sitting on a park bench after school, your backpacks between you, the sky turning pink and orange with sunset. the conversation had gradually faded into a comfortable kind of silence, only interrupted occasionally by the rustle of the leaves from the tree above you and a chirping of summer birds.

riwoo had noticed your head tilting slowly, your eyes fluttering shut. but he didn’t expect you to actually fall asleep on his shoulder.

he freezes. “wait are you–” he tilts his head slightly and you don’t move. “are you seriously sleeping?”

he can feel your breath against his neck, and for a while, he just stares forward, the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips.

he tries his best not to read into it and fails completely. you murmur something in your sleep–unintelligible–the type of thing he could definitely spin into something he can tease you with.

riwoo pulls his hoodie sleeve over his hand and adjusts your head carefully so you don’t wake up with a nasty neck cramp. he looks away as he does it, face a little red.

“this doesn’t mean i like you or anything,” he mutters.

“okay. maybe a little.”

han dongmin

you’d been whisper bickering over a shared study worksheet, hunched over a table with you pencils and passive aggressive sticky notes, when you energy finally ran out. as it should, that’s what taesan thinks–you’ve been giving his snarky remarks for a good hour now. taesan caught the change in your posture first, how your pen slowed and your head dipping.

he glances over, annoyed, ready to make a cocky comment, only to see you completely out, your cheek resting on your folded arms, dangerously close to his elbow.

“you’re not serious,” he mutters under his breath. “you’re not actually sleeping when he have a project due–”

you shift slightly in your sleep, your knee nudging his under the table. taesan swallows, blinking down at you sleeping and exhales like it physically hurts him.

he sits there for a while, stiff and unblinking before he finally reaches over, so slowly it’s almost ridiculous, and slides his hoodie off to drape it gently over your shoulders.

you stir, but don’t wake. his hoodie’s big on you, and he looks away immediately, jaw clenched and face burning.

when a classmate passes by and sees, raising an eyebrow, taesan mutters about how “it’s not what it looks like.”

kim donghyun

you’d gone up to the school rooftop to escape the cafeteria noise, as usual, leehan in following with two bottles of pocari and that calm look in his eyes. 

he notices how your replies start getting shorter, your eyes heavier.

when you nod off beside him, your head gently bumping his shoulder, he almost doesn’t react. leehan just blinks. looks down at you. Blinks again.

then–the faintest smile.

he doesn’t move. doesn’t flinch. he just watches the wind pull a strand of your hair across your cheek and reaches out, brushing it back with the lightest touch.

“you should sleep more,” he murmurs, voice quiet. “not just here.”

his shoulder shifts slightly, adjusting so you’re resting more comfortably. you don’t stir. leehan watches your brows furrow in your sleep, the way the corners of your lips twitch. you look pretty in the summer sunlight. 

“i’ll wake you before lunch ends.”

but he never does.

kim woonhak

the game controller slips from your hand mid-match.

“hey, y/n?” woonhak turns, expecting you to be annoyed at his overkill win. instead, he sees you curled up on the couch, face buried against a pillow, your legs tangled in the blanket you’d been fighting over minutes ago.

he blinks. grins.

“seriously?” he whispers.

he carefully sets your controller down, then kneels beside the couch to check if you’re faking. “if this is some kind of trap because i triple headshotted you because i'm just too good–” he leans closer. sees the even rise and fall of your chest. the softness of your expression. 

he tugs the blanket over you, then just sits there. watching you sleep. thinking about when exactly the friendship between you two got this comfortable. he also thinks about how well he did in the last match, too bad you fell asleep before he could rub it into your face. then he gets up and tiptoes to the kitchen, returning with your favourite snack. he places it beside you like some kind of offering.

“i’ll eat mine now,” he says quietly. “you can have yours when you wake up.”

he pauses for a second.

“you really should’ve seen my kill just now.”

[miss-cincaide]

The pink, the blue or the red 

Summary: You can’t decide on a piece of lingerie for your upcoming date. So what do you do? Ask your best friend for help of course. After all you don't think he'll care. And you especially don't expect this to be the beginning of your 'friends with benifits' situation..  

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Megumi Fushuguro (aged up!) Kinktober prompt 2: Lingerie  WC ~1.7K. Warnings: Unprotected sex (P in V), pulling out, cum, light dirty talk, becoming friends with benefits, 

“ I can’t decide!” You huffed from the cracked opened door to your bedroom. Your back pressed against the door, your face angled through the crack and stared down at Megumi sitting cross-legged on your couch, the bunch of homework and course books spread out all over your coffee table. “I don’t know if the blue one is better than the red one, but the red one feels too desperate so maybe the pink one?” 

There was an unmistakable pause, a silence then, an “Are you asking me to look at your underwear before your date?” Megumi’s tone held a hint of disbelief in it and you couldn’t help yourself by correcting his choice of words: “Lingerie.”

It didn’t help; Megumi sighed in exasperation. 

The kind of sound that clearly said you were acting stupid for one, and two, he was about to group you in the same category as Itadori. “ I don’t know. Ask Nobara” 

You let out a low whine, a quiet stomp of your foot against the carpeted floor “ I did. And Nobara said that ‘guys only care about tits and a hole’ so it didn’t matter which one. Then I asked Yuji and it became a whole discussion about why I should care about the color of my lingerie if it’s anyway covered by clothes and IF things go that way, it will most probably be dark so the color won’t matter anyway.”

You heard Megumi mutter something under his breath and proceeded to amp up the begging with your most pitiful puppy dog voice “Please ‘Gumi. You’re my only hope for honest to god feedback.” 

Another long pause, you were about to start bribing him, before he sighed and dropped back against the couch. “Fine.” 

Megumi didn’t sound happy, but you didn’t care as you let out a glee of joy and stepped out of your bedroom. A silky kimono with lace details which matched the lingerie set, thrown over and tied up on your hip, showing off just the very edge of the matching set underneath. 

“So I thought of something like this” You stood in front of Megumi and did a little twirl showing off the kimono that followed the line of your body. Megumi remained frustratingly impassive, his every expression carefully schooled. He wasn’t giving you anything; did he like it? Hate it? Find this bothersome? Find you bothersome? “Come on, Gumi say something” 

“You’re planning to go out to a bar like that?” His eyes ran you up and down, followed the outline of the kimono and then flickered back up to your face, his eyes never lingered. “Doubt it. Stuffing it in a bag to take with will make it look wrinkly and cheap.”  

“It wasn’t cheap” you pouted, then as the penny dropped you realized it was your cue to take it off. Seduce him if you will. You moved to undo the belt, your fingers scrambled to untie the death-knot on your hip. You hadn’t actually thought things would go this far. 

“And that’s another issue,” Megumi pointed out. You could practically hear how he rolled  his eyes. “ When are you going to learn how to tie things up in a single bow?” 

“ But they untie themselves!” 

“That’s what you want from them. Especially in this situation.” 

You didn’t bother to reply, banter-scolding a familiar routine at this point. You’d say there was nothing less sexy than to have to stop and retie the bow, Megumi would point out that at the speed you were going, you’d be ancient by the time you got it untied. “Aha!” you grinned before he could say another word as your nail finally caught the inner loop and you slowly tugged the silky belt free. 

The kimono soon followed, first opened up, then slid off your shoulders to the floor. All you were left in was a half-sheer dark blue set embezzled with small white gems. The bra worked hard to push your girls up, the lace which started just above your nipples giving a small hint of modesty. The lacy skimpy Brazilians did the opposite. 

“What do you think?” You asked, then did a slow twirl to show it off from every angle. When you turned back around to face Megumi, his eyes were firmly planted on the floor at your feet. You bit back the twitch of disappointment in your heart. 

“It looks good.” His voice sounded tense like he uttered it through gritted teeth. 

“You’re not even looking!” You moved to stand closer to him, hearing the unmistakable hitch of breath. “Does it look bad? It looks bad, right? Tell me truly and honestly so I know” 

“You want a true and honest opinion?” You nodded quickly. Megumi didn’t look up at you as he slowly moved to stand up off the couch. He was close, towered over you, definitely aware of you. You smiled a little to yourself and began doing another demonstrative twirl. He stopped you halfway with a firm grip on your arm. “You wanna know what I think? I think you’re doing this on purpose.” 

You gasped as he pushed you forward, and bent you over, your stomach made contact with the side of the couch, one hand braced over the back, the other caught yourself on the armrest.

“I think you’re doing this to rile me up and it’s working” Megumi pushed his hips forward, flush against the soft curve of your ass. His cock was unmistakably hard in his pants. He rolled his hips, and made you feel every inch of him. 

Big. Hard. Needy.    

You trembled. A pathetic whimper left you. 

“You don’t really care about those dates or men. We both know you’re going to go there, have a few drinks, then run away when things get serious.” Another roll of his hips, this time sliding himself between your ass cheeks. “ If you want something, be a big girl and say it.” 

“Don’t stop” you whimpered moving your hips in line with his. He does exactly as you asked, but not a touch more. You're ground against him, desperate for more friction, more touch, more of that delicious cock which so perfectly ground against you, scratching you with the lace of your panties and the shift of his jeans. Outlined but hidden, leaving the rest to imagination. Fuck it was torture. “Or.. you know… keep going, just don’t stop” 

Megumi took a step back from you. “On the couch. Now.” 

You scramble to shift your body over the armrest and into one of the soft cushions. Back against the couch, soles of your feet on the edge of the pillow, knees loosely to your chest. Megumi joins you a moment later, pushing up your knees closer and out of the way. He didn’t bother slipping your panties off, just pushed the damp skimpy thing to the side before thrusting right in. 

“Ah-heh..mm, What about foreplay?” Your hands wrap around his neck keeping him close and steady, there to see his every expression, so close you can hear him swallow, groan and curse as your pussy took him. 

“What about it?” Megumi raises an eyebrow, his hand reached out and brushed a sweat drop off your face. Then trailed trails down your neck, lingered at your bouncing tits then lower, down to your clit. “You’re saying you can be wetter than this?” 

 His fingers touch you; you moan, arching you back. Closer, away, you don’t know anymore. You feel him push your legs even closer to your chest, his thrusts growing rapidly. You realized he was bullying you; with his words, with his fingers and with his fucking cock that felt ten times better than you could have ever imagined. “Y-you’re mean, Megumi” 

“Am I now?” He picked up his pace, rolled his hips and you were coming, dripping, soaking him wet. You were moaning, gasping, cursing or was it him? Another scream and he was gone. Your pussy clenched over nothing.

 Empty.

 You’re whined, your hips thrusting empty air in desperation.

 “Fuckkk”  He was coming, gasping, painting your stomach and tits white with the hot thick cum. 

His sweaty head dropped down to your shoulder, and your nails let go of his back. 

The reality came crashing down on you like a sobering weight; You just had sex with Megumi.  You just fucked your best friend. And you didn't know what it meant, were you now migrating to friends-with-benifits? Something more? Something-

“Did.. did Yuji see the lingerie?” There was an unmistakable twitch of jealousy in his voice and a tone that demanded an honest answer out of you. 

You didn't quite know how to interpret it. You answered him either way. “Kinda? I showed him the pictures of them but not on me”

Megumi growled, his hand on your knee tightened slightly before he let you go. He moved off you, flopping down onto the couch beside you. “Then I need to see the other two before I can give you my honest opinion” 

Your face flushed, your brain short circuited. Your body moved seemingly on its own, awkwardly scrambled out of the couch and with shaky legs began carrying you back to your room. 

If this was what happened with the most innocent, blue set, you couldn't wait until he laid his eyes on the lacy pink one, or barely there red one…

Author note: I have to say I am not sure how I feel about this fic. I love the Megumi in this and I do kinda wanna write more Friends-With-Benifits scenarios. What do you think? Anything you'd wanna read?

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[neosatsuma]

Scavengers Reign finale spoilers ahead:

There's something about the way Levi was the solution to Hollow, like... Kamen and the creature were in this feedback loop, right, making each other worse, isolated and focused only on each other. I was so unclear about Hollow's behavior and possible "motives" as it grew -- it wasn't behaving like an animal filling a niche in an ecosystem, but it didn't seem to have goals that made sentient sense either -- until I realized the extent to which their psychic bond went both ways. And nowhere was that more breathtakingly clear than when it found Fiona's body, looked at her with what seemed to be deep and genuine sorrow, then laid down beside her. Who knows if it would ever have moved again if she hadn't been destroyed. Like. This was a creature initially in tune and connected with its surroundings -- we see how the other members of its species go about their business -- until it enthralled Kamen and the two of them started feeding this circular obsession with themselves and Fiona, to the point that Hollow left its forest and trekked a vast distance to an alien hunk of metal that offered no sustenance, to go sit alone with a corpse. Completely disconnected from its home and the life on this planet.

And then. And then what breaks it, what boils away the monster, is this massive connection. Levi's deep and profound connection with the vast network of living things all over the planet, all intertwined -- it utterly overwhelms Hollow and Kamen, peels the creature down to a version of itself no longer bloated with the completely self-referential miasma it and Kamen had fostered in the closed system of their psyches.

And it gets another chance! That new little creature gets to go back and become a part of things again -- and so does Kamen. When we see him gently releasing that little green animal into the vibrant forest... That's the least selfish thing we've seen him do in the entire show. It's quite possibly the least selfish thing he's done in years. It's a step outside of himself, finally.

And I think it's interesting that the crucial moment was when the creature tried to enthrall Levi; it tried to suck Levi in the same way it did Kamen but Levi utterly RATIO-ED it through the awesome power of already BEING connected to a degree infinitely greater than the link Hollow was offering. Hollow couldn't contain all that; its capacity was too small. just. MAN!!!!

[aingeal98]

Stephcass in an actual romantic relationship has the potential to be both fun and angsty because like. Cass picks up physical techniques lightning quick. You do the move in front of her and boom she's learnt your whole fighting style. And when it comes to the physical side of romance that means she'd also pick things up incredibly quick, Steph does one move and Cass does in back and instantly memorises Steph's reaction. Like she would be the best girlfriend ever in terms of making you feel loved through physical touch. Also Cassandra Wayne most competitive and stubborn fucker in the batfamily once she and Steph are officially girlfriends there's no way she doesn't take it as a challenge to be the best girlfriend ever. And she succeeds! Everyone who sees them is like damn, Steph got lucky. Roses and chocolates to her house every week just because? Girl who is the expert at the human body making out with you constantly? She won the jackpot.

The angst aspect comes from that last part. The implicit balance between stephcass is that Cass is always going to have Steph beat when it comes to vigilanting but Steph is the expert when it comes to civilian life. Only now they're dating and Cass is pulling out all the stops and nailing it and Steph is enjoying it obviously but that kernel of insecurity is growing because what can she offer in comparison? Cass is the whole package and Steph has a half eaten packet of gum in her pocket and the experience of having mediocre sex with a creep. And obviously Cass would pick up on this insecurity and double her efforts because she's clearly doing something wrong so she simply needs to be Better at this girlfriend stuff. Which of course just adds to Steph feeling inadequate in comparison but it mostly being a subconscious thing because for the most part Cass is excellent at this point at making Steph feel loved and valued.

But that subconscious insecurity grows more prominent and you end up with a negative feedback loop that just grows and grows. I have faith they'd resolve it in the end and have a nice happy relationship but the middle part where they're both struggling would be so interesting to read.

[moon-ayyye]

Lantern jason is dope as shit. Green lantern jason is cool, star sapphire is awesome, red is expected, blue is also pretty straightforward. But why is there a lack of yellow lantern jason? The fandom loves to make Tim 'hypercompetency' Drake afraid of jason to the point of flinching when he moves too fast, so this would be perfect. Up the fanon to absurd degrees. I love it when jason doesn't return to the bats/reveal himself post ressurection, so make jason lean into the fear factor. he already wants to prove batman is useless, so he makes it a goal to embody fear.

You thought utrh era jason was trouble? This one can subtly induce fear. He'd cut down the time it took to consolidate power by like half. This creates a feedback loop, too, since the more fear jason instill, the more powerful he becomes, which makes it easier to expand, and repeat.

The reason jason would be scarier than bruce is because he kills. People aren't prematurely afraid of the bat, with random goons declaring that they'll gut him all the time. They get afraid once he beats on them, but that's animalistic fear. With jason, you don't know if you'll live or not.

While i like jayroy, my favourite m/m jason pairing is jaykyle, so people find out it's jason eventually because kyle goes to gotham occasionally so they can hatefuck.

[permian-tropos]

strychnine > rat poison meme, you're truly suffering from success

Let me answer this with an essay for some goddamn reason.

The resource management mechanics have always been a source of comedy. Sometimes it's from taking a mechanic extremely literally, eg. does Artemy rush and crush his tinctures in P2? Is that the arbitrary reason why the bottles can't be reused (it's probably more to do with not contaminating them, but it's not super consistent what contents count as contamination)?

Or sometimes it is absurd without needing to nitpick, eg. in P1 you can catch rats in a bag and race them for money. Yes it's silly, but it's kind of a metaphor for the three protagonists competing to cure the town in their own ways. You're meant to consciously or subconsciously realize, watching your rat double back on itself and miss the obvious goal in front of it, that you're the rat. Put a pin in that thought.

When it comes to the mental health mechanics in P3, they're still taking feedback on them and tweaking them to make them challenging but also immersive, so there's time to let them know if anything is too absurd. But if done right in the final release, it will emphasize how important Daniil's mind is for him to function. You'll be constantly reminded that this isn't something to take for granted.

I also have a feeling that Daniil's apathy death represents the constant urge to kill himself he's dealing with, but the fact it turns everything into black and white film suggests it's not "canon" that he literally could shoot himself in any circumstance, right in front of anybody. The time travel mechanics involve him replaying his memories, chopping them up, and editing them as if they're a tangible film reel (for some reason that makes me think about famous incidents of Soviet censorship of physical media, and the supernatural turn that takes in Disco Elysium lore? maybe there's a connection here). If you let apathy sink in, that represents him—or you the player—giving up on playing this particular section, on editing this section of the film. He gives in to the suicidal impulse in part because you've relived this part of his ordeal wrong, and he abandons that reality to try a new one.

Which brings us to the strychnine. It is a poison, but a very small amount can make you high, and historically, people took that risk. It seems like there isn't a sensible limit to how much of it you can ingest as Daniil Dankovsky, though. Daniil's mind is fracturing more and more as he relives and rewrites his own memories. Keeping him immersed in the reality of each memory involves feeding him poison to get him high. What does that tell us? That he's not reliving these events so that he personally can survive them. Even if giving up on trying to fix the past is a suicidal act, the effort of trying to fix the past is also suicidal, self-sacrificial. This is how it was in Marble Nest. He wasn't reliving the day over and over to escape his own death—at one point he considers shooting himself to contain the infection.

The comedy of Daniil eating "rat poison" is in the impression that he, like suggested by the P1 rat races, is in fact one of the rats. His time looping seems so futile and doomed, and he is forcing himself to do it anyway by overdosing on a stimulant that was used in his time by athletes and academics, to the point where it transforms into its other, more dehumanizing use, killing vermin.

[melshifting]

⋆˚࿔ shifting pick a pile: your 'weaknesses' vs your strengths ―୨୧⋆ ˚

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is a collective reading, which means that not everything written here may resonate with you 100%; if it's not for you, let it go.

choose an image below!

.☘︎ ݁˖ For my pile 1...

Your weaknesses are as clear as water my friend lmao ― what did we say about obsessing over someone else's process? god, you are poisoning yourself with envy. This somehow drives you, but not with a good connotation; you think you should “hurry up” and shift so you don't feel jealousy anymore. Being this way makes you alert ― you're having your guard up as if you were taking it almost a little too personally.

Buttt, nevertheless, I must admit that you sure are persistent; once you find something you like, you really put your all into it for as long as it takes. That gives you the endurance to fight when something doesn't go right or you feel you are falling into destructive patterns. You have the willpower to break that bad habit, and you know it; maybe it's something unconscious, or you think it won't change your process, but oh boy, you're hurting yourself.

The advice for you is that you have to decide: either you stay suffering in silence, watching how apparently everyone enjoys shifting but you; or, you put on your big boy/girl pants and leave your envy aside.

.☘︎ ݁˖ For my pile 2...

You're in constant conflict with your own beliefs: you have the fixed idea that “you're not going to make it” or that “it's not for you” or any other silly excuse you can think of in an attempt to sabotage yourself. One side of you thinks that this is a temporary thing somehow, that it's too good to be real, and that, at some point in your life, your devotion to shifting will simply float away.

This other side of your conflicted mind is what keeps you going and what you have to keep on polishing, rather than the negative thoughts babe; your love for shifting gives you ambition ― this side resists the idea of looking at shifting from the logical side. While your ego tells you to stop this “bullshit”, your higher self knows that this is what you love and what you must continue to fight for with the strength you fought through other things.

The cards advise you not to be anxious if your ego rules your thoughts at times. Remind yourself that this is not you; you are not your negative thoughts ― The sun always comes out after the storm.

.☘︎ ݁˖ For my pile 3...

Dang, why do you feel like you are not moving forward in your process? You think that instead of moving forward, you are even going backward (and let me intrude and tell you that this is not true love). You are losing hope because of this, which sends you into a spiral of bringing that negativity into other aspects of your life as well ― it's like you truly believe there must be something wrong with you. And honestly, this becomes an endless cycle: you think you are slipping backwards ➝ you feel bad about it ➝ you unconsciously apply it to other things ➝ you lose hope ➝ repeat.

But not all is lost (it never was from the beginning anyway) ― you're full of knowledge and experience, and you are a wise person who knows what's best for yourself. If you need reinsurance, rely on past experiences: you have all the potential to work on this and get through it!! You've accomplished so much through hard work, why give up now?

And pleaseeee don't fight the change!! You know that one tiktok audio that goes: "you must break the pattern, or the loop will repeat itself tomorrow.." and so on? Well do it babe, because you know you have to get out of this. Don't be fooled by your ego, otherwise, you will continue to damage yourself for longer.

thanks a lot for reading! feedback and opinions are appreciated (as long as they are respectful)

happy shifting :3

[a-student-out-of-time]

An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.

[stump-not-found]

you mentioned once before how you think ford makes bill worse... do you mind explaing how/genq (this is NOT an attack in any form or way! youer characterisations of bill and ford have been ON POINT every chapter that gets realsed and every comic you draw... im really curious as to how ford makes bill worse to understand it too)

i unfortunately do not remember saying this ! i say a lot of things with my mouth

i do think those two are like an emotional feedback loop . kind of got crabs in a bucket vibes, if the crabs were stabbing each other, and the bucket was also stabbing the crabs . at first it was fun but then one crab said "i don't want to stab anymore" and the other one went "FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU" . like you do . im prolly gonna ramble a bit so shoving it under the readmore lol

hrmmm if i had to guess it's probably just the fact that ford is not a great dude . and he genuinely just likes bill's attitude and behaviors, even the nasty stuff . because it's really gratifying to be around someone who sees your hard edges, and instead of being repelled by that they're like . fuck yeah . then you both just feed into that infinitely and giggle for ever lalala . it's not even like ford broke the cycle willingly he just got his feelings hurt about bill lying and bill decided to blow his entire shit up because he's just a sad, pathetic coward . will do anything to protect his stupid ego even if it means ruining everything all the time constantly . sure you could have gotten everything u ever wanted but that would have required you looking even a lil vulnerable so honestly man you honestly should just blow up your office building tbqh

also i genuinely don't know that bill has had many people in his life that actually like him so i gotta believe ford was like the worst drug known to man: validation

all this being said i'm not really someone who likes to think of any one person as like . bad or evil . it's reductive and boring, for both bill and ford . bill's definitely worse but he's also not human ?? not that that really matters because humans do some incredibly heinous shit . there's not a one-sized-fits-all moral answer here . also bill's just silly he's just a silly guy

so yah if ford makes bill worse its probably just that he's the one guy who's gonna hear bill say "just don't call me late for dinner" and actually laugh for real at that joke . and then also goes into a whole worship kink which i cannot imagine helped the bill situation at all . like idk what i would do if i met the literal smartest guy in the world & he built me a basement shrine with little to no prompting just because i gave him an epic blowjob . i think i would also go insane

well actually no i would hate that . personally . but i'm not a triangle . maybe being a triangle makes that like . normal and fun who knows