#also I can't remember half of what happens in Doctor who

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

So Blue | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Who can you turn to in a dire situation if not your best friend? That's what Jisung thought when he texted you. Heart racing with fear that your best friend was hurt, you rush to his side. What you find however will change everything...

•Pairings: non idol Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, friends to lovers, strong language, mention of sexual enhancement drug, light anxiety, creampie, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating

an: photos of Han used in title graphic have been edited for entertainment purposes by me and are not real. no harm is intended in the edited pictures. also please do not take any enhancement meds without talking to a doctor for your own safety. i don't condone the behavior that's written.

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

The house is quiet, way too quiet when you step inside. Knowing Chan, Changbin, and Jisung for years, you know it's never this quiet when they're around and it's unsettling... Shutting the door behind you and glancing around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. So far everything looks exactly the way you left it last night after the four of you hung out. Just as you're about to walk into the kitchen, you hear Jisung start calling your name from his bedroom. Your heart races with panic and you rush towards his room, dropping your bag on the floor along the way. All kinds of awful scenarios play in your mind and when you burst into his room you half expect to find him bloody or with a broken bone, not sitting on the edge of his bed in a white sleeveless shirt and black shorts, with his legs spread sporting a massive hard-on.

"Wait, why me?" you blurt out, when Jisung explains that he needs your help. Your cheeks heat up as you steal a quick glance at the unmistakable bulge in his shorts. There's a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal that floods through you, leaving you flustered.

You're shocked, jaw practically hitting the floor. Who knew he was so… big? After all these years of friendship, you never thought of him in any other way except as your weird and talented friend. But now, seeing him in this state… It's making you feel things you'd rather deny and your stomach is flipping like crazy. Every now and then you notice that his cock twitches underneath his shorts as if it's alive, pulsating and drawing your eyes down to it again despite how hard you try not to stare. Kind of hard when something that size is practically waving “Hello” at you.

"I- I can't tell the guys this. They'd clown me for life," Jisung stammers, fidgeting as he looks at you from across his messy room. Plastic water bottles scattered, tissues crumpled on the floor—yeah, it's pretty clear what he's been up to before you got here.

"Well, what do you expect me to do, Han Jisung?" you retort, emphasizing his full name for dramatic effect.

"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been hours. I can't even leave my room. It hurts, y/n."

When he grabs at the stiffness beneath his cotton shorts and lets out a low groan, you stop breathing. Why does this have to turn me on? He's my best friend! You mentally scold yourself, tearing your gaze away. Shit, it's hot in here. Your body feels too hot all over. It's like standing too close to a blazing fire, the heat making you squirm uncomfortably.

"Ji... we need to get you to the hospital," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You've seen those commercials."

"Please, no! I can't let anyone see me. Did you forget, your bestie Annie, who also happens to be Chan's girl, works there. If she sees me, it's game over. She'll tell him." Jisung pleads, hands clasped together, desperation evident in his wide brown eyes. Those puppy dog eyes of his always get to you.

"Dude, what were you even thinking, taking Love?" you groan, plopping down on the cozy carpet with a heavy thud, completely confused by your friend's decision to take an enhancement pill.

You remember seeing those late-night infomercials a couple of years back, pushing that blue heart-shaped pill. They call it 'Love' because of the 'L0-V3' stamped on it. Basically it's like Viagra, but it's mixed with a very low dose of THC. They advertise that it does more than just keep things up. 'Guaranteed to give you the ultimate pleasure,' they say.

Jisung shrugs, watching you with a miserable expression. “I was curious if it would make masturbating feel different, better maybe? I mean it did the first 6 times. Wah! The orgasms were fucking mind blowing y/n.” He smiles and chuckles.

"Ji, oh my god! Ugh, have mercy on my ears bro." Both of you burst into laughter, but then you notice Ji wincing in pain. Your mood quickly shifts from playful to genuine concern.

"It hurts that much?" you ask, feeling awful that he's so uncomfortable.

He nods weakly, “It's not even just my dick but my balls feel so fuckin’ heavy. Like they're literally going to rip from my body.”

You cringe inwardly, fingers pressing into your ears as he launches into yet another one of his oversharing moments. His lack of filter has always been a trademark of his, but that's just Jisung being Jisung. After being friends since grade five, it's like he's incapable of holding back anything with you. You remember the day he lost his virginity, he texted you literally right after. His excitement was evident even through the phone. As a joke you got him a cake in the shape of the letter ‘V’. That was in highschool and his habit of sharing way too much is still going strong in your twenties. Only difference is this time his oversharing is doing things to you.

The dampness between your thighs, well, that's just gotta be a coincidence, right? I mean, it's not like the sight of your long time buddy sporting a hard-on is doing anything for you. It's more than likely just the frustration of being on a three-year dry spell. Yeah, that's gotta be it. It's definitely because you haven't been fucked in a long time and not Jisung himself. You give your head a shake, dropping your hands from your ears with a wry smirk.

"Ji, we've really gotta do something… before it gets worse. You don't want it to fall off." You tell him jokingly, trying to keep the mood light but you're feeling worried all over again.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You're right, but what are we supposed to do? I've tried everything, even beatin' it 11 times, and still no luck.” He says, sounding so casual about his masturbatory activities.

You let out an embarrassed groan and fall back dramatically onto the floor, while Jisung lets out a pitiful whine. You grab your phone and start searching for home remedies but after an hour of scrolling, you're still at square one. Not a single remedy seems feasible. Leeches? Nah, no way. As if either of you would go near those slimy things. And some tea from a self-proclaimed witch sounds sketchy as hell. Plus, she's halfway across the globe. It would take forever to get here, if it even would. Jisung hasn't had any luck either. Every twenty minutes You hear him curse under his breath and run his hands through his hair. You two are running out of options, and as time passes, you start to feel more and more useless.

"Y/n," Jisung whispers your name after another forty minutes of searching, his voice hesitant.

You look up at him, doe eyed and innocently chewing your lip. “Hm? What's up, Hannie? Did you find something?” With a strained grunt he nods in response looking at you intensely.

“Fuck, shit.” He mutters under his breath, almost like he's talking to himself. “My dick... It won't go down without…”

“Ji what is it? You're freaking me out. Without what?” You scramble up onto your knees and crawl over to the bed, inching closer to him, eyes full of concern.

Jisung looks like he's in absolute agony watching you crawl over to him. His emotions are all over the place, you can practically feel the tension radiating off of him when you reach the bed. His eyes are like flames, burning far too hot when he looks at you. You can see the struggle written all over his face like he's fighting with himself.

“Y/n, you're making it harder,” Jisung breathes out, his voice husky and balling his hands into fists as he tries to keep his composure.

You sit beside him scrunching up your face and like the good friend that you are, you place a comforting hand on his knee. Jisung's breath catches in his throat and a flush creeps up his neck when you touch him making him suddenly feel lightheaded.

"What do you mean 'making it harder'? I'm here trying to help you, remember?” You say, your voice soft and tinged with hurt. The pain in your voice and eyes catches him off guard. He's stammering, suddenly aware of how his words might've come out wrong.

He didn't mean for it to sound bad. You're the last person he'd ever want to hurt. But today, everything you do just seems to set him off. He's been trying so damn hard to push his feelings aside. But it's like having you in his room, despite you being here a million times before, it's messing with his head. He can't think straight. You've always been stunning to him, and yeah, maybe he's entertained some inappropriate thoughts about you in the past, but that was only once. Maybe it's the pill messing with his head but you’re making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you.

“N- no I mean, I’m grateful you're here, really love. You're the only one who can help me. I just mean… you're making it harder. Ya know?” He stammers, licking his lips nervously. He nods down once looking down at his lap before back at you and bites his lip feeling embarrassed. Your eyes flick down to his shorts and go wide when you understand.

"What? How?!" You glance down at your outfit. His black hoodie with the paint splatters that you borrowed a few days ago, paired with simple black leggings. Nothing revealing, yet you're somehow making his cock even harder than it already was.

"You're over there moaning and then you start crawling towards me on all fours. I mean, come on, how could anyone not get turned on by that? Shit!" He chuckles nervously, feeling his heart racing. He hides his face in his hands, laughing, and murmurs something when you giggle.

"You're such a perv, Ji." You tease, still chuckling as you playfully pry his hands away from his face. "Now try that again. I'm not fluent in mumbles, sorry.”

“I said… I just read that it won't go down without intercourse. Bro, I don't exactly have a girlfriend. I'm so fucked.” He sighs, sounding completely defeated.

Your smile falters when you see just how miserable he looks. It's been a while since he was last in a relationship, that was true. Probably a little longer than you, about four years now. His last one ended when she demanded he choose between you and her. She couldn't stand the fact that you would spend the night in the spare bedroom where Jisung, Chan, and Changbin recorded their music, dreaming of making it big someday. Jisung ended things with her on the spot; he wouldn't be with someone who couldn't accept his friends. Apparently she had issues with Minho too, which was probably what really did it for him. But somehow, you can't shake off the feeling that their breakup was somehow your fault, that his single status is on your shoulders.

“I'm sorry Hannie. We'll um, we can figure something out.” You reassure him, innocently rubbing his knee.

Without thinking much, your fingers gently glide over his skin comfortingly, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He's so stressed. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. You don't know what to do right now other than offer him comfort. There are no answers or solutions that you can think of to give him. All you can do is show him that you're in it together as always. You start rambling on about how you two are both probably freaking out for no reason and that everything will be fine soon. But as your fingers continue to move in innocent slow circles, Jisung starts shifting. It goes unnoticeable by you so you keep talking. It's all nonsense really, delving into something completely random and off topic in an attempt to distract him from the issue at hand, only Jisung isn't processing a single word you've said. He's far too focused on your hand.

The moment your hand landed on his knee he prayed you wouldn't move it, he prayed you would. He tried so hard to focus on anything other than the heat and softness of your hand on his bare skin. It's too much though and his mind starts to quickly wander. He freezes and tries to focus on your voice but it's impossible. Jisung can't stop the thoughts that his mind creates or the images that begin to come into focus. He's imagining your hand sliding up his thigh until it's slipping under his shorts. He can almost feel it happening, his sudden daydream becoming so vivid. In his mind's eye he can see you take him into your hands, feel you stroking him until he's a mess and spilling all over your fingers. He's fighting his demons and you're oblivious to it all. You just continue to talk all while the sensation of your hand is driving him up the wall. He can feel the sudden familiar tightening in his balls and he panics. He can't get control of his body, not with the drug still in his system.

His hand quickly comes down covering yours, stopping the gentle caress to his knee. His intense brown eyes look darker when they stare into yours. His lips slightly part and his breath starts coming out in uneven quiet bursts. The warmth of his hand seems to grow hotter, becoming slightly sweaty against yours and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You feel the subtle shift in his body beneath your touch and his legs tense up as he lets out a soft, involuntary grunt. Jisung's gaze burns into yours with an undeniable intensity that makes air feel thick and your cunt slick.

Is he about to?

You glance down at his shorts and his cock pulsates underneath. You stop breathing when realization hits you. He’s going to cum, right here, right now, all while holding your hand and looking at you. He's leaking so much precum it's noticeable even in the black fabric. A wicked scene flashes through your mind, of you sinking to your knees to taste him, taking his fully clothed cock into your mouth.

"Ah, shit! Mm!" Jisung's moans slip out and his breathing escalates as he starts to tremble all over. "Y/n," he pants out. Your name rolling off his tongue, making your whole body flush as his orgasm quickly builds, like you're the cause of it. "I... oh, shit. I'm... sorry, fuck. I can't... Help it. I'm cumming. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!”

His grip on your hand tightens and he takes a deep breath before letting out a long low moan. You're left speechless, eyes fixed on Jisung's face as he cums in his pants. His hips move instinctively upwards, as if he's fucking some unseen entity and you can't help but find it incredibly hot. It's possibly the sexiest thing you've ever witnessed and now you're more turned on than you were to before.

His orgasm hits him hard, and you can feel his muscles tighten when he lets go. Warmth spreads through your body and it's impossible not to miss the way his release seeps through his dark shorts. The fabric quickly becomes wetter as his seed flows out in thick, white strings. His cock, still concealed and hard beneath the dampness, slows its wild twitching and stills.

“God, I'm sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me. Your hand... It felt incredible and it just happened. It was like the pill ramped up the feeling.” He apologizes, letting go of your hand. His heavy breathing slows and cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and shame.

“It's ok Ji, I understand. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't thinking. I'll uh, get you a change of shorts.” You start to get up and head towards his dresser but he catches your wrist. He looks up at you with those brown sugar boba eyes of his making you shift.

“Tell me what you're thinking, y/n. Please? I'm going crazy thinking I'm weirding you out. Be honest with me please, lovely. Please?” He pleads with you.

You sigh and sit back down beside him and almost moan when the seam of your leggings rub against you. Seeing Jisung cum right in front of you, has your body feeling ultra sensitive. You're so on edge as if you've taken an enhancement pill yourself.

"I'm not weirded out, trust me," You confess, your voice low and filled with something more that you try to hide from him and yourself.

"Then how do you feel? You've gone quiet on me." Jisung probes, daring you to reveal your feelings.

“I feel fine Ji.” You say and look at his closet door. It's wide open and his clothes are all over the place inside like a tornado went through it.

“Bullshit y/n. I can tell when you're lying. You never look at me when you lie.”

Sighing you look him in the eyes and your mouth suddenly goes dry. He's not going to let this go until you fess up to him. He'll drill you with questions until you crack and that will probably make things more awkward than it already is. You don't really have a choice but to be transparent with him like you normally are.

“I'm,” You start, only for your words to trail off into a mumble.

“What was it you said earlier y/n? I'm not fluent in mumble?" He smirks, feeling so damn proud of himself and you roll your eyes.

“Ugh, fine. Fine, okay. I'm… horny. There, satisfied?” You admit red in the face. You look away fiddling with the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie.

"What else?" His voice, steady and resolute.

Your head spins back to him, caught off guard. "What else?" you echo loudly in shock. "Isn't all that enough?" He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows something you don't.

"Nah, not when I can feel you holding back," Jisung teases, leaning closer. "We're always so open with each other, but right now, there's something you're not saying."

“I…” You let out a defeated and frustrated sigh. “You turned me on.” You whisper. “The sight of you cumming. The look on your face, that fucking moan, Jisung. The way your cock bobbed from inside your shorts when you… damn it. It fucking made me wet. I've been wet since I walked in here!” You're practically yelling now, breathing heavily after releasing all your pent up feelings and he just smiles and chuckles.

“That wasn't so hard was it?

“Yes,” You say with a huff. “Yes, that actually was pretty damn hard.” You go to cover your face but he stops you.

“Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. I think that's a normal reaction. Sorta like watching porn.” He replies, chuckling.

“I suppose… but it doesn't really help your situation though.” You say feeling mortified.

The room goes quiet for a minute, the pair of you at a loss for words until Jisung breaks the silence.

“Maybe it can?”

You give him a look, raising an eyebrow in his direction. His cheeks flush and he raises his hands in a surrender gesture, palms facing outward, “Hear me out. It doesn't have to be weird. We'd just be helping each other out. You wouldn't be horny anymore and I wouldn't be hard and in pain. You're my only hope.”

“Are you suggesting that you and I… fuck?” You ask gesturing between you both. He groans in half pain, half pleasure at your words and your face heats again matching the blush on his cheeks.

“Please? Please let me fuck you y/n. Shit I know we're friends, it won't mean anything. You'd be literally saving my life. It's torture being like this. Every twitch, every movement I make… it fucking hurts like hell.” He begs, sounding desperate.

Jisung's question hangs in the air and you find yourself unable to respond. Silence ticks on for only a few seconds but to Jisung it feels like an hour. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and huffs.

"Fine, then," he grumbles, breaking the silence again. "Can you at least help me get into your car so we can go to the hospital then?" His voice is rough, but there's an underlying vulnerability to it.

Still you stay quiet, his pleas echoing loudly in your mind. He's begging for your help and you can't speak. You're torn between wanting to be there for him and the fear of the aftermath. It's never a good idea to sleep with a friend. God, how many times have there been movies portraying that, only for it to go wrong? Too many, that's the answer. You're already feeling things that you wish you weren't. This could ruin your friendship with Jisung. This isn't just a peck on the lips. You'll be far closer and far more intimate than you two have ever been. So your hesitation is valid but Jisung is losing his mind and panicking more than you are right now.

“What the fuck y/n? Are you really ignoring me right now? Look, I'm sorry I asked. Just forget it and hel-”

"Promise me," You cut him off, "Promise me that we'll pretend like it never happened."

"Absolutely, yes. I promise!" he agrees eagerly, his face lighting up as he reaches for the drawer in his bedside dresser.

Curious, you watch as he rummages through the drawer's content. "What are you up to now?" you ask, sounding amused despite the fact that the little voice in your head is screaming at you.

"Looking for a condom," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks over at you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Dude, even if you find one, it's probably expired or dried up. When was the last time you got some ass?"

"Oh yeah right, good point—wait! It hasn't been that long!" He whines.

Laughing, you playfully cover your mouth. "Uh huh, sure. Besides, you gave your last one to Chan a while ago, remember?"

“Shit, you're right. Now what?” He pouts looking disappointed.

“Just raw I guess. Don't really have a choice. We both know we're clean and I'm on the pill.” You shrug nonchalantly like the idea is whatever to you but your heart is beating a thousand beats per second and you're internally freaking out.

Jisung swallows hard, looking nervous in your direction. “You uh, you sure?”

“Yeah let's just do it before Bin and Chan get back. Shit would be really awkward if they caught us.” Your voice betrays your false confidence, shaking as nerves wrack your body.

“Yeah, good point” He replies with a nod, suddenly looking serious.

This is serious to him. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his weekend starting. Jisung's heart pounds hard, his palms sweating as he stares at you. Amidst the anxiety he's feeling about this, he's oddly happy. He feels lucky knowing you’re here willing to cross boundaries for him. Not everyone would do something like this for a friend, but you're different. You always have his back no matter what crazy mess Jisung finds himself in.

Despite the fucked-upness of it all, Jisung can't deny the excited flutter in his stomach. The thought of having sex with a friend is enough to give anyone major anxiety but he's surprised how well you both are dealing with it. Still, fear sits at the back of his mind. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins your friendship? This is a big deal. He's seen it play out in movies and dramas all the time and not once had it turned out well. He doesn't have a lot of options though. You're quite literally his only hope like he told you.

Jisung gets up carefully, giving you full access to his bed and watches you as you strip down to nothing. Embarrassment fills you as his mouth hangs open, in complete fascination and awe. He thinks you're unstoppable, the way you're confidently undressing like that. He doesn't know you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. His eyes find your breast and he mentally marvels over how hard your nipples are. He suddenly wants nothing more than to slip the peaks into his mouth and bite down on them until they're red and you're squirming under him. Your cunt calls to him like a siren, just as pretty and just as wet. His fingers itch to trace the contours of your body, to feel your skin beneath his touch. Every inch of you seems to call out to him.

Jisung shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he glances towards the door. "Um, so about the lights... Do you have a preference?”

"You decide, Ji.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, leaning back into his sheets on your forearms.

With a nod, he walks over to the door and locks it before reaching to switch off the light, enveloping the room in darkness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The sun had long since disappeared, hours slipping away unnoticed in trying to find a way to help your friend. A second later, the white walls covered in music memorabilia and anime posters, glow crimson from the light of the LED Akatsuki cloud lamp you gifted him for Christmas.

“There we go.” He says lightly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your heart.

Jisung's trying his best to put you at ease, and you're grateful for it, even if it's not working. You're lying there, heart pounding like a drum, with the soft red glow of his bedroom casting shadows all around. Your breath hitches, nerves tingling as you steal a glance at him by the bedside. Your fingers toy with the sheets' edge and butterflies dance wildly in your stomach. This is risky, but you're only doing it to help him out, right? Nothing more. Yet, there's something brewing beneath the surface, something you're both feeling but haven't quite put into words or even thoughts. Not right now at least.

Jisung casually strips off his tank and tosses it onto his computer chair, standing over you. Even though you've seen him shirtless a million times, it feels different this time. Probably because the setting is more intimate. You can't help but admire the way his muscles are defined, how they seem to mold perfectly to his body. Every contour, every line, down to his slender waist, captivates you. Then, as he lowers his shorts, you find yourself holding your breath, unable to look away. He's got to be a good seven inches you think. Slightly curving upwards, angry and red with the veins ridiculously prominent. You don't even stop yourself from fantasizing about how he'd feel on your tongue. The temptation to reach out and touch him is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, afraid of what it might mean.

“Do you think you can take all of me y/n?” He asks curiously and you look up at him.

His features soften in the dim light. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike the confident guy you're used to seeing. It tugs at your heart, stirring up a mix of emotions you can't quite begin to untangle.

His question, It's not a cocky one. In fact he sounds a little bit self conscious, worried even. Like he's afraid of hurting you or causing you discomfort. As much as you try to not think of him as your best friend right now as a means of psyching yourself out, you can't. He's your sweet Hannie, he's the talented genius J.One, a rap name he created when he was 16. He's your Sungie, who sat with you when you were the new kid in middle school. He needs you… needs your help. What kind of friend would turn away from a friend in need?

"I can handle it, don't worry about me, Ji. Let's just get you back to normal, okay?" You reach out your hand towards him with a subtle tremble exposing your nervousness.

"Yeah, okay, lovely. Just... let me know if you want to stop, okay? Promise?” Jisung exhales, his breath jittery with nerves waiting for your response.

“I promise. Now just relax and fuck me.” You whisper.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

He moves closer to you, placing his hand in yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you. The worries and hesitations you had vanish, replaced by a strong need to take care of this for him, to ease his pain. You feel the heat emanating from his body as he positions himself between your legs, gazing down at you with wide eyes.

He chews on his bottom lip and wraps his hand around the base of his cock with a hiss. He's still sensitive from the pain and his recent orgasm but he lines himself up with the entrance to your core, noticing how your arousal glistens in the red lights.

“Do you normally get this wet y/n?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious tilting his head to one side.

You hide your face with your hands, inhaling deeply. It's like you're a virgin all over again and this is your first time. You're nervous out of your mind and he's asking you a question like that. He's just curious, sure, but... he's Jisung... Your pulse pounds in your ears, and you slowly lower your hands. His eyes meet yours, and you can see everything you're feeling reflected in them.

You swallow hard, “Honestly, no. I've never been this wet, Jisung. Not even for myself.” You tell him, keeping eye contact so he knows you aren't lying.

“Fuck, that's hot.” He whispers. His cock twitches and rubs along your folds. “Ah, shit.” He winces and moans at the contact, feeling his cock stiffen even more beyond his belief.

Your body jerks at the unexpected touch, causing you to inhale sharply. His fingers lightly graze the curve of your waist, as if he's afraid you might vanish at any moment. His eyes, intense and penetrating, hold yours captive and heat pools low in your belly. Jisung's touch sends a shiver all over your body when his fingertips slowly begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Suddenly it's hard to deny just how bad you want him.

“Han Jisung if you don't stop stalling and just fuck me, I'm getting dressed and calling Chan.” Your breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. That brush against you was too much and not enough. You want him. God, you want him so bad it's almost painful.

“Okay, okay sorry. I'm just nervous. Fuck, I feel like a virgin all over again.” He says voicing your earlier thoughts out loud, making you both laugh loudly.

It feels almost normal. Like you're not about to let sleep with your long time friend. Like he's just above you now because you were wrestling for the remote. But after the laughter subsides, Jisung gathers up his courage and pushes the tip of his cock inside you without any restrictions. You're so wet that he slides right in. You both let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls of his room, enveloping you in an intimate bubble. In the dim light, the boundary between friendship and something more blurs, and you find yourself swept away by the growing need. Jisung can feel his heart beating harder in his chest as he loses himself to the sweet feeling of you around the tip of him. A growing need intensifies within him with every passing second. He's got just the head in and he wants to slam into and cum right now.

"More. Keep going," you whisper, your voice quiet and dripping with lust. He bites down hard and complies slightly hesitating. Slowly he pushes further inside of you.

Your fingers tremble as they brush against his arms as he steadily inch by inch presses forward getting deeper, drawing moans out of you that could be heard from Pluto. It takes all of Jisung's focus to slide his entire length into you. He didn't want to cum just from sticking the tip in. But with each thrust into your eager pussy, brings him closer to bursting inside you.

"Fuck.” He breathes out as he fully sinks into you, his hand laying over your stomach gently. With a soft sigh, he leans in, resting his other hand beside your head. You feel incredible and he's reminded of the only moment he fantasized about you. A distant memory flooding back, something he tried to push away ages ago.

You tagged along with him, Chan, and Binnie for a vacation to the beach one scorching summer. He couldn't help but notice the way you looked in that red bikini with the guitar pick pattern. The way it barely covered your tits and ass. The sight made him feel insane. He was thinking things about you that he hadn't ever before. He used the fact that he couldn't swim just to sit in the sand, secretly enjoying the sight of you splashing around in the water. Every splash, every droplet clinging to your skin, it was like a fantasy playing out before his eyes. He imagined plowing into you from behind in the shower, your breast pressed against the shower tiles as you took all of him. Every detail was vivid and intense in his mind. That night, while you peacefully slept beside him in the hotel room you shared, he couldn't shake the images from his mind. Unable to sleep due to the ache in his cock, he pumped himself into his fist while thoughts of you consumed his mind. Guilt filled him but he pushed it aside, chalking it up to normal hormonal desires. It had been years since he even had those thoughts, until now.

Now he's buried deep inside you, all because of a dumb decision to try those enhancement pills. All because he wanted a mind-blowing, toe curling, orgasm. But deep down, he's kinda grateful for messing up. With you beneath him, he can fuck you instead of his hand. It's been too long since he's fucked anyone. He wants to savor this moment, take his time feeling your walls flutter around him since this won't happen again. As the urge to cum fades, he eases out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside and begins moving again, slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction with his mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he rocks in and out, feeling your tightness gripping him in a way he's never experienced before. It’s better than anything he's felt with his exes. He's in awe of how amazing you make him feel. With a forceful thrust, he drives himself deeper into you, pausing when you cry out in pleasure.

"Damn it, y/n, you feel amazing. Fuck, so good.” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Can I... Can I go faster? Please, tell me I can fuck you faster, baby. Let me make you feel even better." He begs, grunting softly and shifting his hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, forcing a needy whimper from you.

You bite your lip, a rush of pleasure flooding your body as you nod in response, too overwhelmed to speak. Your breath hitches, coming in rapid gasps, and your legs tremble around him.

“Thank you, fuck.” He withdraws with a sharp pull, then eases back in hard, making you cry out. “Stop me if I'm too rough, baby. You gotta tell me sweetie. Can you do that?”

You nod, but that's not quite what he wants. Jisung wants to hear you, no, needs to hear you. His hand moves, brushing against your skin until he finds your nipple, teasingly taking it between his fingers. Your breath catches as he pinches it gently and rolls it slowly between his thumb and index finger. He feels your body react, your walls tightening around him when you whimper softly.

"Oh!" You gasp, unable to control that blissful feeling of pleasure that runs through you. He does it again, a little harder this time. The corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky grin when you arch your back.

“Yes Ji! Fuck, I'll tell you.” Your eyes close and you grip the blankets on the bed in tight hands.

“Thank you y/n. God you're the fucking, mm! You're the best. Knew only you could help me. I knew you'd take care of me.” Jisung whispers, gripping the sheets by your head tight, his fingers curling around the fabric and sliding himself back into you. The bed creaks beneath you, echoing his movements as he fucks you harder. “Knew you'd make me feel good,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sex. "Tell me, y/n, does that feel good? Does my y/n feel good because of me? Tell me baby.”

Does he always talk like this with everyone he's been with before? You wonder and you realize he's way more experienced than you imagined. The thought makes you jealous but the feeling doesn't last. Each push of his cock inside of you pushes that green eyed demon out of your mind.

His voice, smooth like honey, drips with sweetness, coating you with each word he utters. The way he speaks to you only makes you wetter and you're craving him more. He's not holding back anymore, lost in the moment where all that matters is pleasure. Yours, his… you both need more. He's not waiting for a response; he knows you're speechless, your words stuck in your throat, your silence speaking volumes. With one hand supporting himself, he cups your breast, teasing and massaging the flesh, making you squirm under him before taking your nipple into his mouth. A low, guttural moan escapes him, reverberating through you body. You moan passionately, feeling the heat of his tongue against your skin. When he gently bites the hard peaks of your nipple your body arches into him and your left hand cradles his head.

Jisung inhales deeply, and your scent envelops him, drawing him in with its intoxicating allure. "Damn, you smell so good," Jisung murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips and his heart literally skips a beat in his chest.

He swore nothing would change, but his heart rebels against that weak promise. Every day, he'll crave you more. Every glance, every touch will only intensify the want for you. The need to have you will only grow stronger. Your hands are all over him now, leaving invisible imprints that seem to penetrate straight to his heart. He finds himself addicted to your nails grazing his skin, the way your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him in closer to you with each tug.

Feeling his body pressing against yours, every movement sends waves of pleasure through you. Your hips respond to him, moving in sync and the sensation of his cock against your sweet spot makes you gasp softly. With each grind, the warmth grows blazing inside you. Jisung pauses, his lips leaving your nipple, and gazes down at you, his tousled hair framing his face in a way that makes him look irresistible in this moment. There's a silent shift between you that makes it harder to breathe.

"Close, aren't you, y/n?" he pants, a teasing grin playing on his lips. Something inside you explodes and a surge of electricity courses through you. It's not just the impending climax that has your insides uncoiling; but from that look he gives you. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel like you're free falling through the clouds.

"Almost, Ji. So close," You breathe out softly.

"Yeah, baby, me too," He murmurs, his words laced with urgency. “I need you to come first. I'm gonna pull out." You shake your head and cling to him tighter, not wanting him to stop.

"Cum inside me, Sungie. Just keep going. Harder, Ji. Right there. Fuck!" Your voice grows louder with each word.

"Are you sure, y/n?" he asks, and when you nod, he grins at you. "Gonna give you all of me, baby. Fill you up real good. Gonna make a mess." He trails off with a soft curse. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he adds, his voice becoming more raw, his desire evident in every breath. "You feel so good, y/n. So fucking good."

Jisung's hips buck wildly, thrusting faster and you scream his name, pleading with him to not stop, to not hold back, to fill you up. He's trembling, his breath coming out in ragged grunts as he pounds his cock into you, driving deeper with every thrust. Your body tenses up, and you manage to gasp out that you're about to cum just before it hits you like a tidal wave. And when it hits, fuck, it's like fireworks go off behind your eyelids. The most explosive sensation you've ever experienced.

“Gah, y/n! keep cumming, just like that. Y/n, you're gonna make me cum. So tight. Yeah, keep squeezing me with your pussy. I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming baby." He moans, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel it deep when Jisung cums. It jets out in spurts forcefully, filling you and the sensation rips another unexpected orgasm from you. His thrusts slows to a gentle pace, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until your muscles relax around him. With a shudder, he finally stills, collapsing onto you panting, his weight supported by his forearms. Cupping your face in his hand, he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and longing in his eyes that makes you feel indescribable.

Your soft moans and the way you're clinging on to him, gives him a different sort of pleasure. Just knowing he's the one making you feel good, is a heady feeling, one that makes him want to hold onto this moment longer. But it's done and over now and he feels disappointed that such an amazing feeling, like being nestled inside of you, won't happen again.

Jisung's heart is pounding in his chest as he moves his face closer to you. His impulses taking over, "Can I kiss you?" he breathes out, voice shaky looking down at you.

You give a hesitant nod, feeling suddenly shy despite what just happened between you two, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. It's gentle, soft, sweeter than you expected. He doesn't use his tongue, unsure if you'd even want him to but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss you. The way you looked up at him, so pretty with those heavy lids and his cum dripping out of you… he just had to taste your lips, just once.

When he goes to pull away, you grab onto him, pulling him back and deepening the kiss. Your lips part, inviting him to explore you with his tongue, which he eagerly does. Your muscles tighten, and you realize his cock, which had been softening earlier, is now growing harder inside you. You gasp, intending to let him know it worked but before you can, he starts moving again and your gasp turns into moaning. There's no need for you two to keep having sex now that his erection can go away but you don't stop him. This time it's not just about relieving his pain or a means to an end, it's about something more. You both feel it, the change that he promised wouldn't happen, only you don't seem to care. No, you encourage Jisung to keep moving, to go deeper. You part your legs for him even more, letting him have all of you and surrender to the feelings pulsing through your body. It's all so new, these intense emotions you've developed for him.

Jisung's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust unhurried. His cock slips out leisurely only to ease back in, a rhythm that makes you ache for more. More speed, more friction, more everything. You want to beg him to move faster, but the intensity of his stare leaves you feeling tongue-tied. In this moment, you're the epitome of beauty to him. Your unfocused gaze, your neediness, it's all so intoxicating, urging Jisung to continue his languid movements. He watches as your eyes struggle to focus, blinking several times before locking onto him once more and he loves it. It's as if each blink only deepens the desire he has for you.

He’s amazed that you're letting him continue to fuck you, even though there's no real reason to keep going. But damn, your body has him hooked already. You're spoiling him for any other girl he might end up with, unless... No, he won't let himself go there. He can't think of you as his, not after the promise he made. Still, he craves more of you in every possible way. Jisung's body trembles as he enters you, feeling your muscles tighten around him, and it brings a grin to his face knowing he can coax another orgasm out of you. He wonders how many can say they were able to make you cum multiple times. Did they take care of you like him? He thinks cockily. With a grunt that mingles with your soft moans, he thrusts harder, pushing deeper into you, feeling the tightness around his cock. It's a rhythm of in and out, urging his cock deeper, with nowhere to go.

Did any of your past hookups take their time like this? Fucking you nice and slow, or were they all just in it for a quick nut? Not Jisung, though. He could never, would never just fuck you for his own satisfaction. Your pleasure matters to him. It's what does it for him. He gets off on seeing you lose control because of him, on making you feel good. He doesn't even need to be buried deep inside your cunt to cum. He'd cum in his pants again fingering you or while you rode his face. Just the thought of you cumming on his face is enough to make him explode right now. The sounds you make, your touch, they're his undoing. That's why he came so hard earlier when all you did was caress his knee. He knows that now.

He's finding it impossible to hold back anymore, despite wanting you to cum first. He can't though, not when you gently place your hand on his cheek. That simple touch pushes him over the edge, and he pours himself into you with a raw moan, unable to control himself any longer. His legs shake, his toes curl, and he experiences an intense orgasm, far beyond what he had hoped the pill would give him. But it's not the pill—it's you. He knows it's you.

Watching Jisung cum inside you for the second time, you feel yourself reaching your own orgasm. With soft gasps, your cunt shudders around him. The look on Jisung's face when he cums is easily becoming addicting to you now. You could probably cum just by that look alone. It's like he's lost in the moment, completely taken over by pleasure. His face scrunches up, brows knitting together, round cheeks puffing out with each deep exhale.

You both lie there catching your breaths, quiet and completely still. His cock's still buried inside you, keeping you close. Your eyes lock, taking in every little detail of each other's faces while you both catch your breath. He could stay like this forever, your pussy snug around his cock, and he would've. Only if the sudden sound of the front door swinging open and Changbin shouting about pizza didn't burst that private bubble. It startles you both. So much so that Jisung jerks out of you with a loud pop and scrambling to his feet, making you squeal in surprise.

"Shit, do you think they heard that, Ji?" you whisper hastily pulling his sheets over your body. He shoots you a glance from across the room, a grin spreading across his face. He loves that post sex afterglow radiating from you. You've never looked hotter than you do right now, all sprawled out and naked in his bed.

“Nah, I think we're okay for now. They might just think we're taking a nap like we usually do after binge watching something.” He tells you. “We should probably get dressed in case though.” You nod and when you go to get out of the bed, he stops you. “Wait, lay back. It's my mess, let me clean it up. It's the least I can do for you.”

"Alright..." you murmur, settling back onto the bed with the blanket draped over your chest, your legs parting invitingly for Jisung. Your eyes drift to the ceiling, as you await his touch, but he hesitates. "Ji, what's—"

Your words catch in your throat as you feel the brush of his hair against your thighs and his mouth on you. "Oh, God, Ji. Fuck, that's not what I had in mind," You gasp out just as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

He glances up at you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, his lips glistening with a mixture of your shared juices. "Do you want me to stop, baby? I've got the towel right here," he offers, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, pleasure pooling low in your belly. "No, don't stop," you urge softly, your voice laced with need. "Keep going. Please.”

You collapse onto the bed, feeling his head sink between your thighs. His lips and teeth graze your inner thigh, and you bite the sheets that are tightly balled up in your hands, trying to stifle any noises that might alert Chan and Changbin. When Jisung plunges his hot tongue inside of you, eating his cum and yours from your cunt like it's a five star gourmet meal, you almost let out the most pornographic sounding moan from the twirling motion of his tongue. You grab a pillow with quick hands covering your mouth so that it muffles your moans and cries.

He makes quick work in giving you another orgasm with that wicked tongue of his. You would've gladly returned the favor too if he didn't already cum in the towel that was supposed to be used for you. His mouth stayed locked on your clit while he moaned and pumped his cock into the towel. The vibration of his lips making you forget all about that thing you keep stashed in your bedside drawer at home. Yeah, Jisung eating your pussy like he was starving definitely didn't need to happen either but you're not complaining.

After getting dressed and making sure Chan and Changbin wouldn't notice anything odd, you and Jisung joined the duo and settled in for pizza, beer, and a movie. The TV casts a soft glow as some suspenseful action movie plays, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a different kind of fantasy world. It's like your minds are synced, both drifting away from the movie. You and Jisung steal glances at each other in the dark living room, only to quickly look away.

Countless times he's caught you looking back in the direction of his room with a blush on your cheeks. He's hard just knowing that you're thinking about what happened and he wonders if you can still feel him like he can feel you. He just wants to say fuck the movie, to grab you by your wrist and drag you back to his room and fuck you again. He was actually worried that you would go through with the promise of pretending like sleeping together didn't happen but sometimes, in this case anyway, promises can be broken.

#han jisung smut #skz smut #han jisung x you #stray kids smut #han jisung drabbles #han jisung imagines #han smut #han x reader #han jisung fanfic #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung hard hours #han jisung hard thoughts #han jisung oneshot #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #Han Jisung skz smut

[bettyshoweduptotheparty]

You're Losing Me Analysis

Ok, you got me, enough people messaged me with cute gifs and pretty pleases asking for this analysis to motivate me to finish it. So, here it is, my lyrical analysis of You're Losing Me.

I will stick to my interpretation of this song NOT being about a romantic relationship, the poll I did a while ago showed that most people interpret it to be about a romantic relationship breakdown. I will explain why I don't think that, but if you do, the main lyrical themes will still apply. (Colour coding of main themes at the end)

Before any lyrics, this songs starts with two sounds: A heartbeat and a massive sigh. Like, a really big one, you can even hear the inbreath. Something I've only ever experienced when someone is really, really exhausted and annoyed. I've sometimes made that noise when I'm standing in the pieces of something my children have broken, after I've told them a thousand times not to break it. The non-verbal expression of 'I f*cking told you this would happen'. So, before we even hear any words, I'm able to tell that this is about something that has happened before. We've been round and round this thing a million times. This breakdown has been a long time coming, a death by a thousand cuts if you will ;)

The heartbeat also sets the scene for the main lyrical theme before the first verse starts: A patient in an emergency situation, I envision a hospital room with a heart monitor. Over this heartbeat (and minimal production) we hear Taylor addressing her audience by saying

You say, "I don't understand," and I say, "I know you don't"

The You and the I are having a disagreement, but it's not so much an argument, as a miscommunication. They don't understand what she's saying but Taylor was already expecting that. Immediately, the first line confirms what the sigh was already indicating: This is not a new issue, we've been here many times before so Taylor is well aware that this communication isn't working. Then in the next line

We thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won't

She introduces the medical theme in the lyrics with the word 'cure'. The metaphor is that the relationship that's being described here is the patient that's dying in hospital. This theme is incredibly present throughout the entire song, there is a constant 'brink of death' threat, with mentions of 'gashes', my face was grey' and 'too far gone to bring back to life'. And then, of course, the chorus is the culmination of this with the repetitions of 'Stop, you're losing me' and 'I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore'. This gives me images of an emergency room situation where the patient is flatlining and the doctors are trying to revive them. Or maybe a battlefield, as the last line of the first verse introduces the secondary theme of war or combat with 'You might just have dealt the final blow'. Taylor has of course used the war imagery many times before when talking about conflict, such as in All Too Well ('I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight'), Call it What You Want ('I brought a knife to a gun fight'), The Great War, and the Archer ('I'm ready for combat').

So, despite the initial resignation, Taylor is fighting with the person/people she is addressing here. They are the one that's injuring the patient to the point of near death. And in the chorus she is telling them that, asking them to stop, because the relationship is dying. But we don't yet learn what she is asking them to stop doing. She does, however, show the problem in the relationship when she says:

Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?

It's a WE versus I situation: We used to love this room, but now I (and only I) am left sitting alone in the dark. And only I get to make the decision about what to do with all the stuff we built together, because you're not even here to sit in the dark with me. Also, notice the light versus dark comparison. You are only there for the light (easy) parts, and not the dark (hard). In that context, I am inclined to interpret the room in this line as her stages and the light being the spotlight. We loved standing in the light together/You loved seeing me in the light, but now you've left me in the dark. This is why I really think this song is about the relationship with her majority fanbase and not a romantic relationship. Since 1989 she's written about her romantic partner in a way that makes it clear that this person is with her through thick and thin, on reputation we had End Game and New Years Day, the ultimate song about being there after the party when the glitter fades and it's not glamorous anymore, and in CIWYW she literally says her lover's 'starry eyes sparking up my darkest night'. So, I don't think it's her partner who is leaving her in the dark here, it's the fans. And the 'everything we built' is of course the fame/sold out stadiums etc. And that theme continues in the next verse:

Every morning I glared at you with storms in my eyes How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick

Now the picture is becoming clearer as to what the 'you' here is doing that Taylor is asking them to stop, or better what they're NOT doing. She's glaring at them, sending signals and biting her nails, using all forms of non-verbal communication, but they're not being received. Or she's being willfully ignored. The 'I sent you signals' is a screaming parallel to 'I gave so many signs' from Exile and 'sending signals to be double-crossed' from Evermore. And I think in all three cases, it is referring to queer flagging. And just like in High Infidelity (a similar song thematically) she says 'There's many ways that you can kill the one you love/ the slowest way is never loving them enough', here she's saying 'How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?. Both boils down to the same thing: Your ignorance is killing me and it's a slow and painful death. She ends the verse on the medical theme which has now slightly shifted to Taylor being the dying patient ('My face was grey' - corpse) and the relationship being sick. Over the chorus we still hear the heartbeat though, so she's dying but she's not dead yet.

Let's talk about the bridge. This is juicy, as Taylor's bridges always are, but this one, of course, had the one line that sent all the swifties into an angry rampage against Joe Alwyn. But we'll get to that. The first line is in fact my favourite:

How long could we be a sad song 'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life?

She calls the relationship a 'sad song'. And that's obviously an interesting thing for a songwriter to say, and I've seen many good interpretations of this line, but mine is this: Taylor is the girl who made her name as the young country singer who writes sad breakup songs about her past relationships. And she owned that for a while, until she openly discussed how much it trivialises her writing and that songs are more than just the person she's writing about (not as simple as a paternity test etc.), but have people stopped making her songs about men? When the Joe breakup hit the news, wasn't the first thing the swifties said 'Oh, the next album is going to be soooo sad...."?? So...for some people she still is, and will always be, just the girl who writes about breakups. And she's saying to those people 'how long can this relationship last if that's all you'll ever see me for?' She also, once again uses the medical theme of 'bringing the relationship back to life' when it has in fact died multiple deaths already. But this time it might just be 'too far gone' to be revived.

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me I'm the best thing at this party (You're losing me)

She also continues the war/combat theme with being the 'bravest soldier' who is bleeding whilst on the frontline 'fighting in only your army'. This is also important. Taylor is the soldier but she's not fighting for her own cause, she's fighting in the other person's army. She's making herself bleed, for the other person's sake. Much like a closeted gay person pretending to be straight for the mass appeal. It's making me bleed for your benefit, but you don't even notice, DON'T YOU IGNORE ME!! And then we get to the ultimate bait and switch line:

And I wouldn't marry me either A pathological people pleaser Who only wanted you to see her

Where you will all shout at me 'How can it not be about a romantic relationship, it has the line about marrying!!!'. Relax, I think this is intentional. What an easy way to make the whole song sound like it's about a breakup with just one line when the rest of the song suggest something else (to me at least). I don't see this as being about a literal marriage proposal, more like a 'I wouldn't choose me either'. Very much along the lines of Anti Hero, I'm the problem, why would you choose me, but I'd still love it if you did. And she even says in the next part 'I have nothing to believe, unless you're choosing me.'

And I'm fadin', thinkin'

(POV changes, addresses self:) "Do something, babe, say something" (Say something) "Lose something, babe, risk something" (You're losing me) "Choose something, babe, I got nothing" (I got nothing) "To believe, unless you're choosin' me"

So in the imperatives, the direction of address changes and she's now thinking to/addressing herself with these commands: 'DO something, SAY something, LOSE something, CHOOSE something, RISK something.' Almost like she's trying to jumpstart herself into action. This all screams BE BRAVE to me, especially the 'say something' because in the previous verse she was communicating in all these non-verbal ways (glaring, signals, nail biting) and that wasn't working. She's telling herself to be brave and SAY something, make it unmistakably clear, but that may well mean risking something and losing it. Also, choose something babe, you can't play both sides forever. In the last line she then addresses the audience again by saying 'I have nothing to believe unless you're choosing me.' She wants to be chosen by her audience as her authentic self, not as the 'sad song' girl. Once she's said all those hard hitting truths, what follows is a massive pause, a moment of total silence. Like the moment when you've finally said all you wanted to say and now you're waiting for the reaction. And when you almost think the song has ended, we get the heartbeat again and one more chorus.

SILENCE You're losin' me Stop (Stop, stop), you're losin' me Stop (Stop, stop), you're losin' me I can't find a pulse (HEARTBEAT STOPS) My heart won't start anymore

In this last chorus the Stops are now echoed twice to increase the urgency in this plea, it sounds almost like she's saying 'stop, stop stop! It's really about to be over!'. And it is, as the heartbeats stops on the word 'pulse' and the patient has finally died. She concludes on what we have just witnessed 'My heart won't start anymore' but there is no 'for you' this time, because the relationship is dead now. No more coming back this time.

Thematically, to fit into the concept of midnights, this could be a song set in early 2019 when she was planning her coming out, or it could be more recent, as an internal counter piece to Anti Hero. I hope this lived up to what you hoped for, people who asked so nicely :)

blue - medical theme/imagery

orange - direct address to audience

green - war/combat theme

#taylor swift #gaylor #lyric analysis #you're losing me #ts midnights

[drdemonprince]

Your blog is like a breath of fresh air. Thank you for all the wonderful thoughts and writing.

That said I actually have a question. I am pro-palestine(it feels stupid to call it that, as if it should even be a debate) and in a very left leaning friend group. But also a very white academic one. You know the type, read Marx, dream of the revolution but continue studying to end up in 9 to 5s instead of doing anything(I am guilty of it too, this isn't meant as insult just a description)

Anyways, as you can imagine they have been extremely hesitant when it comes to having any opinion on Israel or Palestine. That wouldn't be a problem in itself, I know how to start topics with them and get them thinking usually but in this case there is an additional problem. Whenever I try to broach the topic I get shutdown with "Look at all the shit that is going on here, our country is falling into fascism, I just don't have the energy to deal with this conflict. Please don't talk about it because it's triggering". And I have zero clue what to do. Forget getting them to go on protests with me, I can't even speak to them about it and feel really guilty. Its me bringing up a heavily triggering topic after all. It feels wrong to feel guilty though. I know at the end of the day it's not important if I could convince some people to give a fuck but do you have any advice? How to get over this guilt or maybe how to broach a topic with that considered?

My main problem is my fear of losing my friends because I have been ill for some time(as in physically unable to leave the house for more than a short grocery run, or my visits to the doctor, because of pain and my friends are what keep me alive) and losing their help would be not good.

My exact situation aside, do you have advice for someone to broach a topic that others describe as unpleasant/triggering without causing a huge rift in the group?

Thanks for your kind words and your question, Anon.

I think your friends suck and that you can do better than them. I think you should get out there and find yourself some Black, brown, working class anarchist and anarco-communist buds (and Marxists who show up for others in a real, observable way in their regular lives) as soon as you can.

I know that wasn't the answer you were looking for. But I have seen this kind of entirely theoretical, jaded, self-superior, passive, white well-off Marxist type a thousand times before, and I've failed to ever see them show up for other people in any kind of consistent way.

And it's not only the people systematically crushed beneath the wheel of Capital half a world away that they neglect, either. They tend to be pretty shitty friends and neighbors when it all comes down to it on the micro-level, too. Their smug over-intellectualism and dispassionate cynicism allows them to justify remaining disengaged and going along with the status quo in a way that ultimately serves capitalism very well.

There is a theoretical basis to this selfishness and disengagement, I will admit. This type of overly academic Marxist typically believes that the fall of capitalism is inevitable, that humans lack free will and only behave as befits their obvious material interests, and that there is nothing that one can do on a personal level to hasten any kind of Revolution, so there is nothing left to do but wait, and take care of oneself, and allow the future to unfold.

This is a perspective explicitly advocated for by people like the Chapo Trap House guys, and among academic white boy communist types, it is incredibly popular. I remember hearing Matt Christman saying on his vlogs that he essentially does not believe the conditions allowing capitalism to fall will happen in his lifetime, and so his only responsibility is to just take care of himself and his family and be comfortable.

Ultimately, these types wind up sounding and behaving exactly like capitalist economists who believe that everyone is rationally motivated only by increasing their personal wealth. They are disengaged from politics except insofar as they like to make snide jokes about current events for their own entertainment and enrichment, and they don't see themselves as having the capacity to exert a positive influence on the world, nor any obligation to. It's bleak shit.

At the same time, if your friends are in the circles that tend to read and listen to and promote this kind of stuff, surely they have also been exposed to popular leftist voices advocating loudly for the Palestinian cause. And yet still they have done nothing.

Hasan Piker has been vocally pro-Palestine his entire career, and his Twitch channel has been providing near constant coverage of Palestinian issues since October 7th. True Anon has had multiple episodes on the Israel Lobby, the suppression of pro-Palestinian activism and journalistic coverage, and has aired interviews with Normal Finkelstein. Palestine is the central topic of nearly every Trillbilly Worker's Party podcast for months now.

These are widely popular voices among the very types of Marxists that you say that your friends are, and many of these creators are close friends with the Chapo Trap House guys, whom your friends almost certainly are taking notes from. So it's nearly impossible to imagine that your friends have not encountered the near constant coverage of the struggle of the Palestinians that all the rest of us have. And yet still your friends do nothing. Still they do not care, and dismiss you when you share with them how despairing you feel.

Your friends have turned off an essential part of their hearts, I think. And I don't mean they lack empathy. Not having empathy is fine, I don't have it either -- but I make the conscious choice to care about the Palestinian cause and to advocate for it, because it aligns with my values. I give a fuck. My giving a fuck is conveyed through my actions, not through what I think about or how I feel.

Your friends are showing no interest in learning more about this genocide or doing anything about it. Perhaps some degree of ignorance or hesitancy could be justified early on because the Israeli apologist propaganda is so far reaching, but we're well past the point of that explaining away inaction by now. Over 100,000 people are missing and over 30,000 are known to be dead and little girls are being shot by snipers while seeking medical care while babies are left to rot in their NICU beds.

Your friends know this. Maybe not everyone in the world does, but if they're so well-read about leftist issues, your friends do. And they have chosen, for some reason, not to care. They've disconnected from the pain the Palestinian people are in, unplugged from the steady stream of upsetting information, sought comfort in a politics that says all too conveniently that nothing they do matters, and when you try to share with them how much anguish you are feeling about the mass deaths happening throughout the world, they're dismissive toward you.

Your friends suck. If acknowleding reality and confronting the horrors of a genocide is too tough and triggering for them, then a lot of horrors here at home will be too much for their fragile egos too. There are so many leftists you could be surrounding yourself with instead, I promise -- people who give back to their communities, people who are in the streets doing the tough work of feeding and housing and fighting for the release from prison of people every day, instead of using those local struggles as a shield for their inaction on a more global scale.

Fuck these people for real. This is a big glaring red flag and it will be relevant to your friendship and your life. One day many of them might see you and your problems and your human needs as too much of a distraction from their dry academic jerk-off sessions too. I've seen it a dozen times. Sorry to be so blunt. But you seem like a person who is putting their attention in all the right places and I don't want to see that compassion squandered on people who won't ever show you the same consideration. You can find people who actually walk the walk, they're everywhere.

[bogkeep]

it was always a strange dichotomy. every middle school classmate i had told me i'd be a millionaire when i grew up, a Famouse Artisté. it's easy enough to imagine as a teen, i suppose: skill equals fame equals money. i was doubtful about this prophecy, not because i wasn't confident in my ability to draw, but because it was hard to imagine a world where i'd be paid for it.

it was an ice breaker game at summer camp. horrible one, really - everyone in a group were given a character profile. now we had to imagine that it was the zombie apocalypse, and the helicopter to safety was two seats short and we had argue why we deserved a spot. the character i got was an asshole doctor of some kind. i don't remember if i argued my way into the helicopter or not, but i do remember the feeling that's been hanging over me my entire life - if the apocalypse happens right now, i have nothing to contribute.

there's something really painful about it. i have cultivated a skill for my whole life, i can make art and tell stories that are entirely unique to me, there is no way to get someone else to create in the exact same way i can, and yet - i've contributed more to capitalist society by sitting in an empty hotel reception for eight hours a day.

which made me develop anxiety, to boot.

i illustrated two children's books. they're some of my best work. the contract i signed was industry standard and the indie author who had hired me was incredibly kind... but even after stock sold out i had earnt little more than some pocket change.

in high school we had an outing to dig our own snow caves that we would spend the night in. in teams, thankfully. i have so little physical strength to speak of, most i could do to help was clear away the snow rubble and toss it outside. i know, i know, my classmates reassured me it was an important job to do, i was an invaluable member of the group, sure - but it's that feeling, you know?

what would my task be in the communist solarpunk commune?

a person cannot be useless. it's a human being. they just exist, no ifs and buts about it. one can only be useless in the eyes of an ableist, capitalist society that sees no value in being alive beyond production and profit.

sometimes i receive messages from internet strangers to tell me something i said - often several years ago - was helpful to them. maybe it was a throwaway comment on a forum. maybe it was replying to a question they could've googled the answer to. maybe it was an encouraging reply to someone's artwork. turns out it mattered to someone. huh.

of course you can learn new skills. i have learnt plenty over the years! i have also learnt that there are limitations to what i can do. that some of the obstacles i face are not in fact obstacles everyone faces. it's not that i can't break tasks into smaller steps, it's more that half of those steps are going to be "rinse your hands because you Touched a Thing and now you're going to have to touch Another Thing." i wonder if that's adding to my cognitive load or something.

i was never raised to be a man, so by all accounts i do not understand why i'm so haunted by the spectre of toxic masculinity - what would i do if i was a medieval peasant and a war broke out? what if i was in a pre-historic hunter gatherer society and i was expected to hunt? what if i was a humble farm boy discovering the sword of the chosen one and the world depended on my non-existing courage to face certain death?

look, it's stupid. these are not scenarios i will find myself in. besides, pre-historic humans depended on community and taking care of each other. that's how we survive.

i'm not useless and i decided to make peace with being useless anyway.

we're surrounded by digital clocks. we can't really escape them. do we need watchmakers? would they save me a spot in the zombie apocalypse helicopter? no, don't answer that. i'm just happy i found something that requires a light touch and an observant eye.

#too long for twitter #I AM NOT ASKING FOR ADVICE I AM JUST MUSING AND WRITING A BLOG POST FOR THE JOY OF WRITING BLOG POSTS #not mentioned: the bachelors degree in art history i took to procrastinate with my life. #i would love to work as an illustrator still. if the opportunity to do so comfortably comes along i will take it #but im also happy to pursue my passion in my free time as something that belongs to me #number one question im asked whenever i tell someone i go to watchmaker school is 'BUT DO YOU STILL DRAW??' #it's like asking if i still breathe. yes! i still do the thing that makes me feel alive #it's just. we live in a world that's hostile to Live Comfortably and Pursue Creative Passions at the same time #and a society that can be so largely dismissive of art sometimes; all the while consuming it en masse #ah you probably get it. you dont need me to tell you

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hi, is it possible to have M6 hcs with an MC having a depressive episode please? Thank you in advance, I love your work <3

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an MC struggling with depression

~ apparently you guys' new favorite thing to do is send me requests that I can relate to a little too well. Have some comfort, my darlings, and remember to be kind to yourselves. Healing is slow but it is happening - brainrot ~

Julian

Caring for you during a depressive episode is more instinctive for him than the day-to-day part of living with depression

He knows what it's like to be really emotionally low, but he doesn't know what it's like to be permanently stuck there

And for someone who runs on emotional energy, not having any at all doesn't resonate with him

Which is why he's quickly becoming Vesuvia's leading medical expert on the condition. What he can't understand right away, he'll study until he does

And oh dear, the more he learns, the more he aches for you. It's the emotional equivalent of chronic pain/fatigue and nobody will make you feel more valid in that than he will

There's just one problem - he can't keep a schedule to save his life and he's sometimes more empathetic than is good for him

It's an important growing moment for him. He'll have to learn how to better himself to help you without feeling responsible for your troubles

He keeps a checklist to go over with you every day, somehow without ever making you feel judged if you didn't do everything

Healthy amount of food? Check. Healthy amount of sleep? Check. Sunlight? It was raining. That's okay, we'll go on a picnic tomorrow!

It's also his way of being able to tell if it's getting bad again

When that happens, he'll encourage you to give yourself the freedom of a few days of rest. No expectations, no to-do lists. A good doctor knows the value of bed rest

It's really good for him too - since he wants to check up on you regularly it means he's taking consistent breaks and actually getting enough sleep for once

You bring him so much joy just by being there when he wakes up in the mornings. Being able to help you keep that sparkle in your eyes means so much to him

Asra

They aren't very depression-prone themselves, but they know how hard it is to carry a heavy heart. It's why giving you half of theirs was one of the easiest trades they ever made

And it's also why he gets what you're going through better than anyone else does, because he can literally feel what you're feeling, if you let him

The first time you let them tap in to your shared bond on a fairly bad day, they said it was like trying to dance with fogged-over glasses and weights on every limb. No wonder you're tired!

He doesn't mind doing things a little differently (since when did he do them normally anyways?) so he likes getting the important tasks done with you

They get up with you on workdays and turn breakfast and dinner into daily dates. Wherever their whims take them while you run the shop, they'll always be back in time to help close and take you on a long sunset stroll

Baths used to stress you out - it was the last hurdle before finally getting to sleep - and now they're the highlight of your day

It's not nearly as overwhelming when the bath's already drawn with some new random luxury product to try out and a fluffy-haired lover who insists on lifting you in and out (it makes him happy, let him have this, MC!)

Weekends are for sleeping in, cuddles on the roof in the sunshine, and hours of reading books in the pillow pile

When a nasty episode hits, they'll take you on vacation to Nopal. They notice how much effort you put in, it makes sense that you need rest and they want to make sure you have it

So many hugs and snuggles, all the time, every day. He's so proud of you and he tells you that constantly

Because he doesn't need you to be happy or energetic or exciting for him to love you. He just needs you to know that you're loved.

Nadia

Nobody knows what it's like to feel stuck and unable to get one's life back like she does. She spent three years comatose like that

She's a little horrified when she gets a clear picture of what life can be like for you. She had a way out, and a Devil to blame and subsequently defeat. You're running on your own determination

She thinks you're one of the strongest people in the world for that

It shows her why you seemed to know how to pull her out of her sleep. And she's determined to do the same for you

She pulls you out of bed to do yoga with her every morning. If it's sunny (and it often is) she'll take it onto the balcony so you can kill two birds with one stone

It's okay if you need to go back to sleep after. Just let her do this with you

She has a reason to schedule breaks into her day now to spend half an hour with you and make sure you're both getting what you need

Because lunchtime gets so busy and dinner is often an important event, she makes sure to have a late morning tea with you every day, from 10-11 AM

Fresh fruit, some dried meats and cheeses, juice and tea, and the most delicious baked treats. It's light and filling and nourishing enough to get you through the day if you can't manage much else

It's easier to act like it's not getting bad again when you can save your energy just for your shared moments. It's why Nadia feels so guilty for the first few times she didn't notice until it was too bad for you to do even that much

Fortunately for you, there's a palace full of employees who have you to thank for getting a competent person in charge again

They want to see you flourish too, so one word from housekeeping is all Nadia needs to whisk you off to the seaside for some R&R

You pulled her out of her daze and are the strongest person she knows. Returning the favor for her beloved is her greatest honor

Muriel

Oh yeah, that thing where life feels like walking through sludge and all you want to do is hide and sleep, so that's what you eventually end up doing all day? Yeah he does that too

Or at least he did, until you dragged him down a continent with the scariest woman he's ever met on a wild goat chase

It's starting to make sense to him now. You knew to reintroduce him to the fun of comfortable clothes and good food and the safety of companionship because that's what you needed too

And he's not leaving that fog behind without bringing you with him

He doesn't want you to force yourself into a busy, colorful life of excitement and adventure. He doesn't want that for himself either

But he's learned the value of a life that can move as slowly as it needs to as long as it doesn't get stagnant

You can sleep in if you want to. But he's bringing you breakfast in bed. He won't say anything but he won't leave to start his day until you eat at least half of it

You don't have to go on a walk if you're not up for it. But he'll leave the door and windows open and move the bed right below them

You don't have to take a shower. But he'll hold you in his lap by the fire with a clean rag and a bucket of warm water and some soap and a big, fluffy towel

It's okay if you can't feel anything. It's okay if you can't stop feeling everything. Sit with it as long as you need to. He'll just be next to you with a glass of cool, fresh water from the nearby spring

Of course, things aren't always that bad. You have good days, and better days, and great days, and tired days, and gray days, and everything days, and nothing days, and quiet days, and loud days

Sometimes you're the one bringing him a glass of water and opening the windows

But you're both slowly having more good days than bad ones, and life is starting to get lighter. And neither of you are fighting alone

Portia

Depression and burnout can look pretty similar. The big difference is that one of them is something you generally bring on yourself, and the other one tends to show up uninvited and unannounced

She's plenty familiar with burnout. Depression not so much

She's quick to notice when you go several days in a row without smiling very much. And when you can't pull yourself out of bed one morning, she's so sympathetic and on board to help

But it's hard not get upset with her when her first question is, "so what were you doing for it to get this bad, MC?"

It makes it even harder to talk about, but Portia is the palace's honorary librarian at this point. Between the research she does there and the general medical description and advice Ilya gives her, she'll come back with plenty of notes

She will feel so bad about what she said earlier that you will definitely need to hug it out

She's such a get-up-and-go person that she doesn't have to think twice about helping you keep a schedule. That's how she lives already. Now she's just cooking a full breakfast for two, not one

She still takes you on her ambassador trips, but the plans she comes up with take your energy levels into account as well as hers

You're having a better day? Time to go sightseeing and find an adventure

You're not doing as well? Take a day on the boat. Nap on the deck in the sunlight. The crew love you too, they'll bring you fruit and she'll get all the boring meetings out of the way while you rest

It can be a little daunting being a partner to someone who is sunshine personified when you feel like mud most days

And it's tricky for her to learn how to sit with someone in pain without feeling like a failure for not being influential enough to fix it

She sees you as the best part of her world and thinks, no wonder you're tired. Take a rest. She'll keep things running

Lucio

At first he's worried that you're falling sick very, very slowly

You don't have energy for the things that he knows you enjoy, you're sleeping more, and the dulled look in your eyes makes him wonder if you're in pain

You're trying not to let it get to you because being an adventurer is fun! Exciting! And it's Lucio's fresh start on life, so you're scared of ruining it. You don't want to drag him down on his way up

But finally one morning you just can't get yourself out of bed. And he's increasingly worried, so you explain it to him

It ends up lifting his spirits more than anything. He could tell you were ill, but this illness doesn't seem fatal. It's just something you have to live with that makes some days a lot harder than others

He doesn't have a lot of intuition for taking care of sick people, but he's getting better and better at learning from his mistakes

You say taking care of your body helps? Every time he gets hungry he makes sure you eat something too. Every time he bathes he pulls you in. Every time he goes outside he invites you.

If you say no too often he will pout. Which will quickly give way to his unexpectedly adorable puppy eyes, because he loves you and doesn't want your sickness to hurt you MC!

Of course, healing is never linear. There are still times when the only thing you have energy for when you open your eyes is closing them again

And as much as he worries for you during those times, Lucio isn't burdened by them. It's a chance to show you he loves you and to return the favor you showed him by sticking by his side

It's also his moment to be the magnanimous, powerful Count he wanted so badly to be. He'll protect you, he'll take care of you, he gets to be your hero and let you be comfortable!

You are his best. If that means you need to take a break and sleep, then go ahead. Precious things are meant to be treasured

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[gaspshichat]

hi chat. pearl made me cry at 9:30 in the morning so y'all know what time is it. warning there will be swears [i say the f word ☹️] bc i haven't slept but i'm somehow not sick rn which. hasn't happened in weeks

[and a quick health update: pretty sure i have narrowed down what's making me sick to three possible things. i'm hopefully seeing my doctor soon bc the refill on my meds expires in june. we're so close and i haven't been able to breathe]

.

.

.

OH MY GOD. Y'ALL. IF YOU'RE FOLLOWING ME AND SOMEHOW AREN'T A PEARL FAN. HOW ???? GO. GO BE A PEARL FAN. IT'S A THREAT

pearl is funny and kind and caring. there is a reason i gave her 10k bits the other day. she deserves the entire world and more. i don't know what the world did to her that made her so kind

i'm not the only one who has a message though !! here are a few messages from people but i've seen so many in reblogs and tweets and whatnot

.

from my lovely partner tay aka twitter user PandoraRxse: I can’t catch streams very often but your videos always make me smile and I always look forward to a new upload. Keep doing what you’re doing, you’re amazing Pearl

from lovely twitter user SKYBL1NGS: shes like genuinely super funny and has great content that everyone can get into and shes really pretty and i loce pearlecentmoon

from a lovely anonymous twitter user: she is genuinly such an amazing artist, both in minecraft and in real life, all of her art is so lively in a way that i'm not sure how to describe best. also she is such a kind human being :))

from lovely tumblr user sapphicwhimsy: pearl is such a lovely and sweet person. shes SO kind to everyone in chat, new or old, and creates such a lovely environment to hang around in. her streams are the only ones i can sit through fully, and she has SUCH a lovely voice! i could listen to her read the dictionary, because im sure she would make it interesting. she has such a way to make everything interesting! even things like sitting still for thirty minutes can be something interesting in a pearl stream, because shes always got such amazing things to say. shes absolutely beautiful, inside and out, with a kind soul that matches her through and through. the fact that she always tries to read everyone out personally, and tries to pronounce their names correctly - and accepts corrections wholeheartedly - is so nice. and shes so wonderfully accepting to all of her community, and always has well wishes for everyone. shes truly a very wonderful and accepting person, who deserves the world! honestly the sweetest person ive ever came across.

.

anyway onto the next part of why i made this post

HOW THE FUCK IS SHE SO PRETTY. WHAT. IT'S GENUINELY UNFAIR. SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD BE A GODDAMN SCULPTURE

LIKE COME ON. I WISH I COULD DRAW SO I COULD DRAW HER. SHE'S BEAUTIFUL. WHAT THE HELL. LOOK AT HER

featuring other GORGEOUS women. my god. i am so

anyway :)) it took me an hour and a half to write this bc i kept getting distracted. in short. pearl is so amazing and wonderful. it's weird how she remembers things about me and actually cares ???

also. SHE PRONOUNCED MY NAME CORRECTLY ???? I'VE HEARD SUCH TERRIBLE PRONUNCIATIONS BUT PEARL. SHE SAID IT RIGHR FIRST TRY. WHAT. i kind of want to hear how karn would attempt to pronounce it

[bc yes. i'm okay with anyone, including streamers, calling me vyren. you know me better than my dad does. it's okay to call me vy, vyren, gasp, or gasps]

sleepy brain wrote this post and i want to say so much more but i can't. i had a better message when i did my 10k bits message but that thing is long gone. the only way pearl knows about those bits is if she sees this

and to her community: i love y'all. y'all are lovely. thanks for helping make my shitty life a little brighter. the world may not be kind to me, but y'all are. thank y'all for that. y'all are so lovely

pearl, if you see this, sending all the love to you and your three cats. and yes. karn is the third cat

#pearlescentmoon #maintagging like she is a vampire and my tumblr is my house #appreciation post #the second time i've invited her in #chat y'all better say y'all's favourite things about her #and to people who are mean to pearl: i am in your walls 🫶

[evelhak]

Seen so many bad jokes about autistic people's literal black & white thinking that I wanted to talk about how it might actually look like. Yeah, sure, haha it's very funny if you say you have to turn the place upside down and someone thinks you literally want to turn the house on its roof, but who would actually think that? Sure, that image would pop in my head but I wouldn't think that's what you meant. Like, most people can understand the meaning of common sayings they've heard all their lives, even if they did misunderstand them for the first few times of hearing them. So if you're trying to write an autistic character and you're not autistic, here's some examples that could be helpful.

My mom asked me to empty the dishwasher while she was at the store. Once she came back and went to the kitchen, I wanted to ask her something, don't remember what anymore, but she replied that she was admiring my work in the kitchen. To which I just laughed and continued with my initial question. At this point my mom was suddenly enraged and I didn't understand why, until it became clear that she had wanted me to both empty and fill the dishwasher, which I had not understood, and "admiring my work" was sarcasm because she thought I was just being lazy and did know what she had meant. And her rage came from the fact that she also assumed I had understood her sarcasm and chose to ignore it.

What I want a writer to take away from this is 1) there's an internal logic to my thought process and actions that is just as logical as my mom's. It's not random and once I understood where my mom was coming from there was no longer confusion. 2) I also learned from this and didn't repeat the same mistake ever again.

Once at the doctor's office I was given a list of about a 100 things that one should avoid eating if they have IBS. I took the list and went home, immediately started to follow the list for a month. Next time at the doctor's office I was asked if I had been using the list and which things I had been avoiding. I blinked in confusion. All of them of course. The doctor's eyes widened. "All of them??" I was just like... Yeah. Apparently I should have understood that I could pick and choose.

What I think is important here is that 1) autistic people aren't necessarily "rigid" as if that's negative. We tend to process things very deeply so we assume instructions are to be taken seriously. 2) Again I learned from this and remember to ask specific instructions more these days.

This happened a LOT with my girlfriend: she would say something half heartedly, like, she wanted to go to a movie, and I immediately began to arrange when we could go and when I asked her if that day was good she didn't even remember she had wanted to go to a movie anymore. Because it hadn't been a serious statement, just a thought. But I could not tell the difference between serious and non-serious wishes because the words used for them would be literally the same, and I default to seriousness.

Here I'd like to highlight how 1) this example is more complicated because this dynamic can apply to so many different situations that it's harder to not make the "same" mistake again. 2) The default assumption for me is that all of people's words have the same weight. Sure, I have learned to tell pretty well if people are joking, but when they are not exactly joking it's hard to tell the degree of seriousness.

Obviously I'm giving myself as just an example.

All in all, my point is I want writers to consider the LOGIC, the subjective reasoning behind a character's actions just like they would for any other character. You can't just copy and paste together a bunch of autistic traits with no rhyme or reason because the traits are just the outcome of an internal process. They are just the visible part. And for any individual just being autistic isn't enough of a reason to give them a specific trait you have to figure out why their specific autistic presentation is the way it is. Autism is just the label. It's not the explanation. You have to understand how the individual traits your character has, relate to each other and work together from inside out, if you actually want to create good representation.

Obviously I know this is hard. It's almost like it's difficult to think with a different brain type to your own. But that's something autistic people who are high maskers attempt everyday, and can be quite successful at too. But there are still "leaks". These examples are some of mine.

#actually autistic #writing advice #autistic characters

[kurosstuff]

So I was thinking lute x fem reader demon and angel BUT it's an actor au. So lute obviously hates demons but outside of shooting the show she's so in love with the reader, I only got that far but I thought it was a good idea and you're an amazing writer

Thank you dearie♡♡ IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME♡♡♡

Honestly- this? Is an amazing idea I love the whole Actor Aus

ALSO- when you said reader is demon and angel(unless I COMPLETELY read that wrong-??( I made them a fallen angel. Short I wrote this half asleep ima pass out now

Warning(s): fighting, au- so Lute acts not like her self? Idk SLIGHT sexual talk(leads to mire but it cuts off(

Lute x f!fallen angel! Reader: actor au

Lute snarled, glaring down at you. Her weapon drawn "a vile pathetic demon. On their knees begging me an angel for forgiveness? To surive an exectuoner?" Snarling, watching your gold blood pool around you. The gashes on your body-

"fuck you" you spat spitting your blood and spit at her making her sneer kicking you roughly ensuring you felt every hit fully- not holding anything back

"Some angel you turned out to be Y/N no wonder you fell. Can't even hold your tongue, can you?" snarling out, stepping closer, stabbing the spear in your food, smirking at the sick crunch it made. The scream you let out humming "Shall I stitch your mouth shut? Cut your tongue out?" her mask mimicking her mocking smirk at her prey- your sobbing self. "Let's see if you'll survive this time, no?" ripping the spear out about to strike before.

A whistle went off- making you sigh, "and scene! Take a break, everyone!" The director spoke out as the cameras shifted to a halt- stretching the pain in your side aching

"Oh god im- I'm so sorry" quickly realizing what was happening once you finally refocused, you smiled softly at your girlfriend- similar to her onscreen persona yet-

So different

"Lute~, my love~" you interrupted her with a soft hum standing up, holding her hands gently "its ok-! Look at me? I'm ok - yeah - sure you did actually hit me, but made the scene even more believable~" you hummed gently cupping her face kissing her snickering at the gag you heard beside you

"Their sucking faces again, boss!" Adam sneered teasingly, taking the plastic knife out of his back "Hey wha- NIFTY- you already stabbed me! Why keep putting it on!" He groaned, smirking chasing after the short woman who? Sped off laughing loudly about.. something you weren't to sure what she mumbled just like her show persona- only difference is she has two eyes.

As If she truly was made for the role.

"Dear but I hurt you!" Your attention grabbed from the woman in your arms you hummed letting her drag you to your shared dressing room as she rambled apologies upon apologies as she did everyrime your characters saw each other on stage

"Lute"

"God i- I'm a horrible girlfriend! Look! Your bruising!"

"Lute~?' You cut off her ramblings, pulling her onto your lap- such a surpise a cold woman in the show was just as cold bur a total softy with you- made you feel more special. "I'm ok. Remember~ baby~? It's acting. If I hit you would you be mad~?"

"No" she grumbled, flushed holding you close to her with a sigh "I'd forgive you. Time and time again no matter what.' She confessed with a deep sigh kissing you gently covering your face in kisses apologizing physically "Tell you what~? I'll give cuddles and kisses as an apology ~ for hurting you?"

And not even a second goes by before you gasp looking at her. "Oh! God, that hurts my leg! I need kisses, state doctor!" Making her laugh easily carying you to the bed for just that kissing you all over yet again smirking happily laying beside you

"Did you know were shipped- like uh- our characters in the show?" She hummed, wrapping an arm around your waist, nuzzling up to you happily "pretty interesting huh~ says theres.. so much sexual tension~"

"There is" you spoke bluntly smirking at her confused face "there was a scene. Of us arguing and you pinned me to the wall. You kept glancing at my lips a very heated look on your face, but the director kept it in~" snickering at hee flushed face humming "but same here~ god did I wanna kiss you so bad- that adorable scowl you do-"

Scoffing, she playfully glared up at you before she smirked straddling your waist "suppose you want more kisses then~? Tempted to kiss you here and now~ keep you in my arms in our dressing room bed~' cooing softly you held her waist

"Oh~? Then do something about it~"

-

"Lute. You just HAD to mark me up?" You whined following your lover close as she smirked smug proudly showing off her own markings you left "Lute! Nows not the time ti be showing off! You got us temporarily banned from being in our dressing rooms alone!"

Shrugging, she hummed, glancing over at you "Then I get you at home~ easy. It was more then worth it I dear~ now come on~ I wanna go home and..cuddle some more ~" snickering at the flustered look on your face.

You can only imagine the lecture you'll both get for leaving so soon. Bur you'll handle that later.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute

[lostonehero]

Ok fuck cannon for both series mech tma au

Also mech Martin as a treat

"W-wait." Jonny stopped holding up his hand before Nastya could set the dimension hop.

"The great Jonny d'Ville stuttering? Never thought I would see the day." Nastya rolls her eyes. "What's wrong? You want to get Martin, right?"

"I..." Jonny sighs and looks at Tim and then back to the rest of the crew and eventually Nastya. He fishes out a pair of glasses from his pocket.

"Smarts Jonny." Ivy raised her brow.

Jonny sighs and crosses his arms. "Tim and I have other versions of ourselves in that universe."

"So?" Raphaella quirks her brow. "Extra parts to experiment with."

"Not exactly." Jonny takes a breath. "Any universe or reality doesn't like copies and to remedy that well... we won't be able to stay here." He starts to motion his hands as his tail starts to lash back and forth. "The reality has a way to correct this, and that is to physically fuse myself with my alter, and the same will happen to Tim. I literally have no idea what that will even do."

Brian tilts his head. "So what you're saying that that there is a chance you'll both dissapear?"

"Not exactly, but kind of." Jonny shrugs, removing his glasses. "Eh, it's whatever just wanted to warn you fucks. Tim and I agreed to go through it. We all were already fucked around with the promise of actual death and waking up before, and who knows Martin's world goes through a literal apocalypse so that will be fun."

Tim nods. "We both have bets going on about how it works. I also get to go to a less advanced version of where I'm from. I really want to see what's that like. Also, I saved Bertie, and he got a long life, so I'm honestly fine with a true death."

Raphaella looks at both of them. "If both of you truly die, can I do an autopsy of your bodies to see what came over?"

"Why the fuck not? I don't give a shit I'll be dead." Jonny hums and raises a brow at Ashes. "What?"

"You'll be human." Ashes motions vaguely to his obvious status as not human.

"Huh." Jonny scratches his stubble. "I'll miss my tail if I remember any of it."

Tim snickers. "I'll be fine."

Ivy smirks. "What if your alternate has short hair?" She pauses. "Also, I want earth books."

"I have a new fear." Tim sighs.

Nastya pauses. "Are you sure?"

TS smiles. "I Think They Already Agreed. Bring Me Back A Earth Cat."

"You heard them let's fucking go." Jonny reached out and grabs Tim's hand. "I ain't living for the rest of time without Blackwood."

"Neither I am." Tim nods. "All speed ahead."

Nastya sighs. "This is a terrible idea, but if both of you still remain, I suppose stopping the apocalypse would please Aurora..... oh hmmmm." She puts the ship full throttle, and in an instant, Jonny and Tim vanish.

......

Martin woke up on his back, which honestly is the weirdest way he could wake up second to the alarm on his... he knew the word for the thing, but he couldn't recall it. He barely fumbled to turn off that obnoxious noise. What was a much more pressing manner was the fact his body was wrong, well correct but that was wrong. He can't recall when he had normal legs and feet... he could, but he would much rather forget the time before the good doctor got her hands on him. He was abnormal for a mechanism since his mechanism was organic in nature his lower half was that of a spider. Of course, he didn't hate it he wanted something different after that.

Ok, at the time, he thought himself a monster and tried to kill himself a multitude of times. He grew out of it. Obviously, it would have been a bleak eternity otherwise. He had a vague feeling of where he was, but the word peaches and worms came to mind. He kind of knew what that meant, but he was more so annoyed that this afterlife was basically before he became a mech. He had to figure out what he was doing.

Maybe if he went too... uh oh right the Magnus Institute, that's when he worked a normal job on earth. This was earth he hoped it wasn't in his head that this was some elaborate death dream because that would be a first. He should try to recall more of this if he is ever going to get through this weird afterlife. He hoped it was an afterlife because if not it meant that he wasn't dead, and he didn't want to do that without Jonny and Gunpowder Tim, and of course, the rest of the crew.

He got showered after figuring out the old-fashioned shower and got dressed in familiar clothes he didn't want to remember. He knew he had to remember, but he really didn't want to. He knew how this world worked. Public transport was easy, and soon, he arrived at the very institute that set everything in motion. What's that saying like a hover bike? Or a bicycle? He will remember what to do and go through the motions.

"You're late." A pretentious pompous voice sneered at Martin.

Martin paused, staring at the man studying him, and he reminded him of Jonny, and a name spilled from his lips. "Jon?"

"Did you hit your head on your way here? Of course I'm Jon." The short man shoved a stack of papers in his arms. "Get through these and try not to fall behind."

Martin frowns and takes the stack of statements. He knew they were statements. Some real some fake, and he had an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wasn't the afterlife. He sat at his desk and stared at a computer, which he didn't recall the password for, and just started to read. He couldn't think about who he saw by him.

"Geez Marto, you ok?" That was Tim, not gunpowder, but Stoker. He was rubbing his eyes, but it was still him.

Martin knew the moment he saw her not corrupted by a thing that wore her skin poorly he might add he knew he wasn't in the afterlife and his death was a fucking lie. He wanted his final death with the rest of them. Did they also wake up before they became? Before the doctor got a hold of them? He takes a breath and sighs. "I'm fine." He forced himself to say. He noticed Tim was bleeding around his eyes. He chose to get up and wet some napkins to help.

"Tim, you really should see a doctor for that." Sasha frowns.

"I'm fine it's probably from my contacts. I'll wear my glasses, and the problem should clear up." Tim gives finger guns as his eyes water.

Martin sighs. "Tim, you're crying."

"Not emotionally." Tim snickers at his joke. "I'm fine. I probably just need rest and to get new contacts." His eyes stop watering after a moment, but it doesn't stop him from rubbing them like they ached.

Martin wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to push it normally got him shot or someone crying in his arms. He knew that didn't matter here. This place wasn't.... he wasn't home. "I'll make some tea for everyone."

"Thank you, Martin." Tim smiles as he rubs his eyes.

"Amazing as always." Sasha smiles.

Martin nodded and distracted himself with making tea. It didn't last long enough as he gave out the tea. He stepped into Jon's office, and he raised a brow at the scene he walked into. Jon was sitting on his knees in a chair not built for that position. "I made you some tea."

Jon nods, rubbing at his chest. "Right."

Martin paused and decided to push his luck. "Why are you sitting like that?"

Jon scowls and takes his mug of tea, and takes a sip. "My lower back aches, and it is worse if I sit normally. My painkillers haven't kicked in."

"Ah, alright, just be careful, alright." Martin smiles, hoping he was acting enough like he did before.

.....

Tim groans as he stares at the bottle of eye drops the doctor gave him. It did literally nothing. His eyes ached and burned, and no matter what he did, the pain wouldn't go away. It's been two weeks, and it's only gotten worse, and he hasn't been able to do anything to relieve it.

He used the heels of his hand and pressed them into his eyes for any sort of relief that wouldn't come. Doctors couldn't find anything wrong and called him basically crazy because there was nothing wrong with his eyes. He knew something was wrong. He knew something was happening.

Tim was desperate. If the eye pain wasn't enough, he was starting to have weird dreams of a man with mechanical eyes. They would talk, and Gunpowder, the other guy picked that name. Don't ask him why it suited him. The memories... no dreams, he keeps having to correct himself. The dreams Gunpowder tells him are his memories, and he apologizes for them all the time. At one point, these memories became his own, but the only thing it did was make Gunpowder more solid in his mind.

Tim liked Gunpowder he was kind and a bit odd, but he didn't feel alone. He hasn't felt seen or known since his brother. Fuck he really missed Danny.

"You have his memories."

Tim nearly fell backward. That was Gunpowder, but he was awake if the pain was anything to say about that. His eyes scanned the small bathroom, searching for the source of the voice, but he didn't see anything. Maybe he was hearing things. The statements were probably getting to him.

Tim sighs and shuts the lights off, and heads to the couch. He just needed to sleep, that's all. Sleep came quickly these days, and he woke up not in Gunpowder's memories but to a futuristic bedroom. He knew this place from some more steamy memories from Gunpowder. Speaking of him, he was lounging in the bed holding a bottle that no longer had labels.

Gunpowder flicked his mechanical eyes to glance at Tim. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a pair of goggles was around his neck. He held up the bottle. "Shit doesn't do much in here but wants some?"

Tim shook his head as he approached and sat on the edge of the bed. "Did you say something?"

"When you started to spiral? Yeah." Gunpowder sits up, putting the bottle aside. "I'm not as well versed in this theoretical nonesense as Jonny is, but I think it's almost complete." He reached his hand out, and Tim allowed him to grab it. "Soon we'll be together awake and asleep, probably when my eyes finally form. Again, sorry about the pain."

"I don't think I'm able to believe you." Tim had that sinking feeling of dread that he knew Gunpowder was right. "Why?"

"We wanted to save our third to complete us." Gunpowder pulls his hand away. "Eternity isn't great when you're missing someone that helps complete you. We were also promised an apocalypse, and that did sound fun."

"Love is a good reason." Tim wanted to reach out again but refrained. "So would you be able to take over like a ghost?"

Gunpowder laughs. "I ain't no ghost, but maybe again, Jonny knows more about this bullshit than I do."

Tim nods and gets up approaching the door.

"Are you sure?"

"If what you say is true, I might as well know more about you." Tim opened the door and vanished into memories that weren't his own.

Gunpowder picked the bottle up again and sighed. "I wonder if Jonny is having a good time."

.....

Jon felt even worse, he however did not go to the doctor even at Martin insistent, he was acting odd more so than normal, and it made his work even worse. He stripped off his shirt and pants, then finally his binder and groans. The red spot on his lower back right on his tailbone he could pass off as bug bite, now ballooned into a throbbing red mass that was completely solid to the touch.

He really wanted to keep ignoring it, but he felt something move under his skin, and it scared him half to death. Every part of him felt wrong, to his privates they were extra sensitive more so then when he started T to his ears that were bright red and painful, to his head that he can feel growing bumps on his head. The worst of it was his chest, his heart was constantly beating erratically, and he could swear he heard a ticking like a metronome in his chest. Everything was wrong, and yet he just crawled into his bed.

No to Jon, the worst part were these dreams that were nothing but fiction, and this Jonny character was a idiot, a violent obnoxious idiot. Jonny talked to him. He purposely argued with him and teased him. That ass was crude and didn't have a fucking care in the world the complete opposite of himself. He was some vile creature that probably spawned from the statements he read.

Jon bit down on his pillow, he moved wrong, and his sensitive privates sent nerves and sparks through his body. He was asexual he shouldn't have these desires, and he shouldn't be thinking about his coworkers in this matter. Why the fuck was Martin a spider creature it scared him but also thrilled him and he hated these thoughts. Tim was mostly the same, but his hair was long, and his eyes were machines. He blamed Jonny for all of this. But he wasn't real his mind just wanted someone to blame.

That obnoxious crazed laughter rang in Jon's ears. He groaned, spitting out his pillow. "Leave me alone, you annoying hallucination." That only earned him harder laughter. He gave a frustrated yell into his pillow. He refused to listen to the just jerk off from Jonny and grabbed sleeping pills from his draw, and hoped for a dreamless sleep, which he knew was futile. He kept seeing memories that weren't his of some nonesense syfy fan wet dream. Jonny wasn't real, and what he saw wasn't real either.

.......

Sasha moved closer to Tim. "Eyes still bothering you?" She motions to his the dark sunglasses you couldn't see his eyes through.

Tim nods. "Yeah, doctors aren't helping. They feel like they're going to pop." He sighs. "Do you know what's up with boss man?"

Sasha shrugs. "I was going to ask about Martin. He seems more lost than normal, and he seems less jumpy but even more depressed? I don't know he keeps avoiding me every time I try to press."

"I can talk to him if you talk to Jon about his attitude. I watched him yell at Martin first 10 minutes, and Martin just took it with a smile like he didn't care." Tim frowns, rubbing his eyes his vision was getting blurry, and he could feel something wet drip down from his face.

"Eye drops first, you're crying again, and it's not clear." Sasha hands him a tissue. "I'll go talk to Jon."

"You're the best, Sasha." Tim smiles and rushes off to the bathroom. He barely makes it inside when his vision goes dark. He can only whimper in shock as fresh pain blooms where his eyes should be. A wet substance drips down his cheeks, and he barely registers hands on his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the ground.

Soft hands carefully remove the black glasses and a soft curse on his lips from a voice Tim knows, but he can't focus or see who said that. He could feel a wet cloth wipe whatever was on his face.

"Tim, you gotta breathe." That was Gunpowder. He sounded so clear, like he was right next to him. "I know it hurts, but you have to let the machines build themselves. It's actually really neat to watch."

The soft hands were done cleaning his face as he let out a sigh at the loss of touch. And a flash of light burned, and then he heard a soft click like that of a camera and a softer moving of machines like a soft roll. His vision came back way too fast, and suddenly, it was too perfect, and he saw too much. He saw a familiar sweater connected to a man leaning over him. "M-martin?" Of course it was Martin his hands were soft... he didn't know why he thought of them like a cat's paw.

"Blackwood!" Gunpowder gasps.

Martin takes the spoiled hand towel and puts it in his back pocket. "Tim, can you focus on me?"

The soft whirl of machines and Tim was looking at Martin. "What happened?" He could see the hand towel and had a few theories on what the stains were.

Martin smiles softly, and Tim feels calmer.

"Feels safe into the den of the spider." Gunpowder hums. "Do you mind if I just uh..."

Tim barely registered what happened until he was in the spot where Gunpowder was. He saw his body move without him, and he just watched unable to process until it clicked what had happened. "Oh." He watches Martin tilt his head as Gunpowder looks up at him, then he feels a stinging pain as Martin hits them.

Gunpowder holds his cheek and looks to Tim, realizing they both felt it.

Martin takes a breath. "You didn't heed any of my warnings."

Gunpowder smiles staring up at Martin.

Martin falters, and he moves and sits down next to him on the bathroom floor. "Is...?"

"Yeah, Tim's here." Gunpowder hums. "Don't think he made the connection yet."

"That is a given." Martin pulls his knees up. "I haven't.... yaknow, and I'm worried when I do..."

"You won't be able to hide." Gunpowder nods and reaches out to Martin. "Aha, he made the connection."

Martin smiles softly, interlocking his fingers with Tim. "Yeah, a lot of shit happened. Welcome to the madness of it."

"Oh, we're well past madness and circled back round to sanity." Gunpowder chuckles, taking the glasses back. "Talk later?"

Martin nods and watches Tim return to his body. "Are you ok?"

Tim blinks. Well, he thinks he blinks, but he's pretty sure he doesn't have eyelids anymore. "I uh... I think so." He paused. "So where's the spider parts? Don't tell me my shared memories and adult fantasies are a lie."

Martin chuckles. "Oh, you're both horrible. Ask Gunpowder, you ass." He gets up and holds out his hand. "Come on, we have to get back to work before Jon throws another fit."

Tim nods, getting up with Martin's help. "Seriously though, where are the spider bits?"

"I don't actually know, and I don't want to test dying to see if they come back." Martin sighs.

"Ah, fair enough." Tim continues to hold Martin's hand. "I uh...you know what happens..."

Martin frowns. "Tim, for me, it's been well over a few thousand years. My memory isn't perfect. I remember what my mind thinks are the important bits, but I've really tried to forget this happened. The ending isn't a good one." He sighs. "We can talk after work, in the tunnels."

"Tunnels?" Tim raised his brow following Martin, never unlocking their hands.

......

Martin pulled Tim back as emts rushed out with a stretcher. "Who got hurt?"

Sasha rushed over. "I went to check on Jon, and he... he was bleeding, and he was barely breathing. I called the ambulance, and they rushed him to the hospital."

Tim frowns. "Is he ok?"

"I don't know." Sasha gives a soft gasp as Martin pulls her into a hug.

"Hey, you did the right thing. Jon will be fine." Martin smiles softly. "We can visit him after our shift. I'm sure he wouldn't mind visitors."

Sasha hugs him back. "You're right. You're right. He probably knew something was wrong and refused to see a doctor."

Tim sighs. "That does sound like Jon." He paused for a moment. "I, uh yeah, back to work."

Sasha nods, wiping her eyes and pulling away from Martin. "I'm sure he'll appreciate a cleaner archive when he gets back."

Martin nods. "Of course, that sounds great." He grabs Tim's arm. "Tim and I can grab some boxies and start moving things around."

"Oh, that's great." Sasha smiles, watching them leave.

.....

"Why did you grab me?" Tim raised his brow.

"So I think I know what happened to Jon." Martin frowns.

Tim paused, and his demeanor changed, and he sags his shoulders. "Oh, this is not going to be good."

"No, it's not." Martin sighs. "Fuck everything has changed now."

"So, did we do it?" Gunpowder raised his brow.

Martin snickers. "Yeah, not even close. We both know that gods won't take this lying down even if it's Jonny."

"Eh, worth a shot." Gunpowder shrugs. "Blackwood has told me enough to know what Jon ends up as I'll explain later."

.....

Elias adjusts his tie and smiles, looking over his archivist. The unfortunate nature of the Flesh and Stranger working together does have this outcome. Of course, he can pull all the strings needed to have this little incident swept under the rug and tied in a neat bow. He smiles softly, watching him wake up. "Are you alright, Jonathan? You've given us all quite the scare." He stops seeing a scowl that isn't Jon's normal one on his lips.

Jonny's mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and his head was fuzzy, and Jon's nagging didn't exactly help him either. His gaze moved up to the man in a suit. He looked like a prick, an obnoxious wealthy prick. Jon was yelling at him that's his boss and don't fuck this up. Of course he wouldn't fuck this up he knew how to act proper and can copy Jon's boring ass. If he could just focus.

"Jonathan, are you alright? You may have hit your head on the way down. You're on some painkillers." Elias smiles, leaning over him.

Jonny furrows his brows. He hated painkillers and always took the fun out of pain and violence. "...fuzzy..." He managed to mumble. His tolerance to painkillers was null and void due to his affection for actual pain. Couldn't he just get Jon's tolerance and not just the fun new parts to explore. He scowls again at the man above his bed, he wanted to rip that smile off his face.

Elias chuckles softly. "Painkillers will do that, and you're not even on that heavy of a dose. I'm sure your coworkers will be visiting you soon. Hopefully, you'll feel better by then."

Jonny grits his teeth. He had a few choice words for that pompous ass.

"You can't kill him." Jon looked drowsy floating next to him.

At least Jonny wasn't the only one suffering in this cushioned hell. He huffs and turns his head.

Jon chuckles. "Don't be mad. You've got control." He was very out of it. He felt the same effects Jonny was. "What's.... what is uh...." He blinks, unable to form a coherent thought.

Jonny huffs and can't fight the feeling of sleep overtaking him.

......

"So Gunpowder Tim cut a bloody path...." Jonny stops, noticing that his head finally felt clear enough and reciting old ballads of his friends wasn't needed. He looked down at Jon, who was staring at him. He floated down to lay next to Jon. "What's with that look? I already explained our situation to you at nauseum."

Jon scowls, looking away. He then makes a vague motion, unable to explain why he suddenly felt wrong.

Jonny raised his brow. "You've got my dick. Ain't you special."

Jon scoffs, but his face is turning red because he feels that is true. "No..." He huffs.

Jonny paused, watching Jon get frustrated. He didn't feel like sharing in that. He learned early in that they shared emotions, and he had to get used to feeling things that weren't his own. It was honestly worse than Nastya, making him feel Aurora emotions. "I can tell you."

Jon felt himself be pushed out from his body as Jonny took control. He scowls but sighs, watching and feeling Jonny's own emotions. "So? What's wrong with m- us?"

Jonny scowls. "They cut off my fucking tail! It's a fucking bitch to grow that back." He raised his ands and feels around his forehead. "Good, they didn't cut them too short. Actually, I like them short, so this isn't an issue... I'm narrating for you Jon be grateful."

Jon raised his brow. "You can't hear my thoughts?"

"Can you hear mine?" Jonny spits back.

"Fair point." Jon sighs. "Are we ok?"

"Fuck if I know. Everything is new, raw, and sensitive. My dicks never been this fucked before." Jonny growls as he is forced back out by Jon.

"D-Dont do that." Jon pulls the blanket over his body.

Jonny shrugs, not understanding Jon. "Whatever, we just have to adjust." He pauses for a moment, pointing at Jon. "This is earth, right?"

"Yes?" Jon raised his brow.

"Tim and Blackwood always referred to me as a cowboy. What's a cow? I don't think I've ever seen an earth cow."

Jon blinks. "But you have parts like a bull."

"Wait, I thought it was called cows." Jonny returned a confused look.

Jon shakes his head. "Alien, right, you're an alien. You don't know human er earth animals. Cows don't have sharp teeth like you, but uh, bulls are basically male cows, but cows are the general term used."

"Can I see what they look like?" Jonny floated to lay next to Jon.

"Yeah, when I get my phone." Jon paused. "Are you upset I wasn't born a man?"

"Why would I care? You've got my dick now, and I have a new hole to play with. This is a win for me." Jonny shrugs and raised his brow feeling relief pour from Jon.

"Thank you." Jon says quietly.

"Ok?" Jonny shrugs floating to look around the hospital room.

......

Sasha slams on the breaks. "Tim what the fuck."

Tim's eyes clicked and whirled. He was told only he could hear this by Gunpowder. Well, both can hear since they share a body. He reaches for his glasses and realizes he took them off because his ears were bothering him. He could feel the look from Gunpowder and Martin on him. "It's a long story."

Sasha rocketed to a spot to park, and she twisted her body to the back seat. "Tim explain now!"

Martin bites his lip and blurts out. "It's my fault. I'm supposed to be dead, both me and Gunpowder. Promised an end to eternity, and it was a farce and I'm back here like this, and I really tried to forget about this part of my life. I mean for fucks sake you die and get replaced Sasha and none of us notice for a year because of how it worked. Tim dies in an explosion, destroying the circus, and that isn't to mention the fucked up paranoia from Jon and extreme levels of fucked up creatures that I mean now I can look back at and laugh but you can't you're mortal. I mean, these are fear gods, so I mean they will get to you eventually."

Gunpowder grabs Martin's hand. "Martin, that's enough. The only reason Jonny knew about my past was because he was playing soldier and was with me. You don't have to..." He stops as Martin waves him off.

"No, it's fine. Tim and Sasha deserve to know." Martin sighs. "I'll tell you what I can remember it has been a few thousand years since I've been through this."

.....

Sasha swallows. "I believe you."

Martin blinks. "Why?"

"I've had a bad feeling, and I knew Gertrude didn't just go missing." Sasha then points to Tim. "Also look at his fucking eyes Martin that's pretty good evidence."

Gunpowder nods.

Martin gives a nervous smile. "I'm sorry I've gotten used to things over the years. I like Tim's eyes."

"Yeah, yeah, don't boast his ego." Sasha puts her seat belt back on. "So keep your glasses on Tim. We're going to visit Jon if the same thing happened to him like you."

"It's equally as possible. Jon worked himself into a delusional state and just hurt himself." Martin shrugs.

Tim blinks back in control. "That's really dark."

"No, no, Martin has a point." Sasha starts the car again. "Remember that incident in research."

"I tried to forget, but I see your point." Tim sighs, putting his glasses back on.

Martin sighs. "Hopefully that isn't the case."

.....

Jon shifted uncomfortably as he sat up. Jonny wasn't lying. The tail thing was incredibly uncomfortable and annoying. He stared at the hospital food in front of him and was told he couldn't leave till tomorrow. He hated hospital food, and he hated hospitals.

"Stop pouting." Jonny rolls his eyes. "I can feel your emotions and pouting won't get you nowhere."

"Oh, then what can I do? Please enlighten me." Jon scowls taking a bite of his peas.

"For one, actually eat. How the fuck are you in such shit condition? Do you even know what fun is?" Jonny shook his head. "You can't do shit without meat on your bones, and you look half starved. You're a fucking disaster."

Jon continues to scowl, not saying a word.

The door opens to his room.

"Blackwood!" Jonny floats through him, trying to tackle him. "Fuck."

Martin smiles softly as Tim and Sasha follow behind him. "We wanted to make sure you're ok."

"You gave me a scare, Jon." Sasha crosses her arms. "You need to learn how to take a break, or at least see a doctor."

Tim was odd wearing sunglasses that completely hid his eyes, but he knew Tim was having trouble with his eyes. "You look awful."

Jon can't help but give a soft smile. "Just wasn't paying attention and hit my head." He motions to the bandages around his head and ears.

"Don't lie to Blackwood. That man can see through any lie you spit." Jonny crosses his arms. "Besides, I bet you control of my choosing that Gunpowder is in your Tim."

Jon ignores him. "Ah you didn't have to bring me anything."

Martin smiles softly as he pulls out a chocolate slice of cake. "It's just some chocolate cake. I mean, you don't have to have it..." He stops as Jon's demeanor changes in an instant as he pushes his food aside.

Jon was forced out and watched Jonny make grabby hands.

"Give it here, Blackwood." Jonny huffs. "Don't you fucking tempt me."

Martin's expression changed, and Jon could feel a shiver down his back. "You and your sweet tooth." He tisks, placing the slice down.

Jonny grabs the container. "Fuck you." He huffs and has enough decency to use a fork. "Your fucking lucky I have to fix this body or I would end you."

Jon watches Tim snicker. "You lost height!" His snickers turn to giggles.

"Piss off." Jonny scoffs.

Sasha raised her brow. "How did you know the cake would work?"

"d'Ville only has one craving he can't quit, and it ain't cigarettes." Gunpowder smirks, taking off his glasses, revealing his mechanical eyes.

Jonny scowls. "Oh fuck you. I don't deny myself pleasures like you."

"I have manners you lack." Tim spits back.

Martin chuckles and has a glint in his eyes and a sinister smile that again Jon can't tear his eyes from. "Now, both of you, that's enough." He moves closer and leans over Jonny. "How about you behave and finish all of your food, and maybe I'll convince the doctors to let you leave early?"

Jon can feel the tug, no the crashing wave of desire, and just pure love spill from Jonny, and if they had his tail, it would be wagging like a dog.

Jonny, for his part, nods eagerly. "It would be faster if you fed me." He purrs back.

Martin steps back. "Don't push your luck. I'm mad at you."

In a split second, that emotion was gone, replaced with annoyance. Jon had to shake his head from the whiplash.

"We agreed!" Jonny huffs stuffing his face with food. "It's not like you were there with your bleeding heart. You weren't there, I woke up after that bar in that... look, I'm not having this conversation."

Jon could feel a bubble of an emotion, one that he knew should leave unspoken. He remains quiet watching Martin.

Martin gaze didn't break, let alone change. He crosses his arms. "Did you do the same?"

Jonny swallows his final bite. "I can't say I wanted to change it, so I didn't."

Martin's gaze seems to finally soften. "Good, he didn't deserve forgiveness." He reached out and pat Jonny's shoulder. "That's my cowboy." He pauses. "What's with the frown?"

"They cut off my tail." Jonny sounded honest and small.

Jon was taken aback.

"I never said humanity was a kind species." Martin brushes a stray piece of hair out of Jonny's face. "It will grow back."

"Not the point." Jonny sighs. "How's your former mortal." His gaze shifted to Tim.

"Probably better than yours with the adjustment." Gunpowder slides his glasses back on. "You look like shit."

"Not my fault." Jonny mutters.

"Never said it was." Gunpowder muses. "Maybe you shouldn't have asked Martin for his story."

Martin rolls his eyes. "Just because you're bitter doesn't mean you get to drag me into this argument again." He walks by Sasha, grabbing her arm. "Would you like to hear more while they complain?"

Sasha nods. "Sure, why not." She follows Martin out of the room as he shuts the door behind him.

Gunpowder frowns. "Don't give me that look. I already got an earful from him, and to be fair, he warned both of us to wait. Now, why do you think this didn't happen the first time?"

"Aren't you just full of dumb questions." Jonny adjusts his glasses. "They were already dead and gone by the time we crossed the first time. This place was fine. I dunno Blackwood said it's been. I dunno fifty years since it ended and started again." He raised his brow at something Tim couldn't see. "You do know what apocalypse means, right? Right well that happened, and you died before I came here the first time."

Gunpowder waves his hand. "Jonny, stop, we both know what happened in the end. They don't know the full truth yet, neither of them."

Jonny frowns and stares at Tim. "How long do you think it will take till being the good guy gets old?"

"Who knows? We've never tried it." Gunpowder shrugs. "You should hold off on being honest about this world, as much as I know you like your stories and songs. Unless you want to deal with Jon."

Jonny waves him off. "Whatever, it doesn't matter now he'll learn as I will annoyingly to see his memories. Just let me figure this out, and as much as I hate to see you two on good terms compared to my situation. Just wait."

For what, Jon had no idea, but this Gunpodwer did, who nodded.

"Seriously though, figure something out with this Jon. You seriously look worse than when we were starving, as a competition." Gunpowder sighs. "Blackwood..." He looks through the door. "Yeah, he already convinced the doctors and nurses to let you go, and they are on their way. Enjoy your new home, alone." He smirks as he leaves.

Jon was flung back into his body, feeling Jonny fuming, but the other man was uncharacteristic silent. He had to think this over and what this actually meant. So he died the first time, but when and how? Before or after the apocalypse?

.......

He wasn't truly alone, not anymore. Jon sunk into his bed and opened his phone. "How did Martin even convince them to let me leave?"

"He's got a way of trapping people making them do what he wants." Jonny hums. "Now, show me a picture of a cow."

Jon wanted to press, but he quickly learned pleasing Jonny was the best way to get answers. He pulled up a picture of a cow and a bull and held it up.

Jonny was quiet studying the creatures he saw. He broke into a wide grin. "They look cute, don't they. Good cows."

Jon hums and sighs. "You said Martin told you what happens to this world. What happens? Why did he become one of you? What are you guys?"

Jonny frowns. "I rather not feel your stupid emotions." He scratches behind his ear. "You won't let this go. However, Blackwood warned me you were insistent, so I might as well spin you a tale." Suddenly, a harmonica appeared in his hands. "A tragic fate of star-crossed lovers doomed by forces beyond their control, and a man turned to a monster that was left in the ruins."

Jon listened to the haunting story on a soft melody. He learned how his coworkers, no his friends, died. How he roamed the wastelands the fears as the apocalypse he caused reigned, how Martin stayed by his side even though he caused this by being tricked. The story ended in a sharp blade.

Jonny stopped. "And you were no more as the pancoption crumbled the archive now, just a man taking his final breath. An ending driven by a man afraid of death and so willing to please a god who didn't care for him as nothing more than a tool. Blackwood crushed but was not dead. A familiar doctor just happened to be passing by the rubble. She wanted to try something new, just not machines anymore, something animalistic, something new. And so Blackwood became a monster a first of his kind." He stretches. "Immortality such a boring goal, isn't it? You would think you would want something more interesting."

Jon was speechless he couldn't string together thoughts.

Jonny frowns, feeling the rush of emotions. "Look..." He swallows and feels tears drip down his face. He was frustrated that he couldn't stop this. He hated emotions, and he hated being honest to himself, but Jon still viewed himself as mortal, and he won't be raw without his partners. He floated down beside Jon and let him cry. He couldn't stop it. The rush of emotions overwhelmed him.

Jon finally spoke. "How do I stop it?"

"Fuck if I know. I wasn't here. I heard the story from Blackwood." Jonny was purposely looking away from him. "You have to ask him, but we promised to play the good guys this time around, or well, until it gets boring."

"We're going to stop this." Jon tried to muster confidence he didn't have.

Jonny just sighs. "Go to bed. Watch some of my memories. If you don't start trying to fix your body, I will do it by force."

Jon pulls his blanket up and frowns. He falls into an unsteady sleep.

......

Elias raised his brow, watching his archivist return to work. "Jonathan, I did tell you to take time to rest after yesterday." He had a smile and a silver tongue.

Jonny scoffs. "He's worse sober."

Jon smiles nervously. "I'm fine, Elias." He adjusts his hat covering his new sensitive ears. His tail had already started to grow back, and Jonny said it's a side effect of immortality, which Jon didn't believe in. It's supposed to be much longer than a cow's tail and semi prehensile. He wanted to test it but knew better than to try anything in public.

Elias frowns. "Now, Jon, I don't need you working yourself sick again." He knew the effects of the stranger and the flesh it probably hasn't hit the man yet, and he didn't want him breaking down having him explain the truth.

Jon frowns. "I'm fine, Elias. I know how to take care of myself. I'm going to get back to work."

Elias frowns, crossing his arms and watching Jon rush off to the archives . He raises his brow, and seeing the start of a tail, he is informed that it is cut off. It shouldn't be growing back this fast. He had a few connections to pull to get more information. He had no desire to pick another archivist nor start again.

......

"We should kill him." Jonny floats next to Jon, his tail lazily flicking behind him.

"Elias is my boss. I'm not going to kill him." Jon scowls as he hears Tim snickers. "Tim, that's enough."

Tim hums, Jon can see his hair is curling and is getting lighter than the black he has. "I don't think so, bossman. We think it's quite hilarious Jonny's on a leash."

Jon was pushed out as Jonny took control. "Oh go fuck yourself you fucking cunt." Jonny stomps off to Jon's office making it a point to slam the door.

Martin snickers from the entrance and refrains from explaining Elias can see them. Oh, that would be hilarious. Does he know Jon and Jonny are sharing a body, or does he think that the fears changed Jon? Either way, things have changed, and he wants to see Elias... no Jonah squirm with the unpredictability. Martin will force him to realize immortality is not worth it, and death is a gift. He silently walks to his desk and takes a seat.

"Enjoying the show?" Tim smirks. "We are."

"Oh, I'm enjoying something else." Martin smiles back.

"Already knitting a web, I see." Gunpowder nods. "I always enjoy the finished project."

Martin taps his fingers against his desk. "You know I think it's not a Web I rather not get mixed up with that particular fear I think I can recall the avatar is kind of a right bitch."

"Really? You have to explain the fear thing better because some of them just sound fun or fun to kill." Gunpowder smirks.

"Later, and Sasha already made a list." Martin points to Sasha sipping her coffee.

"You two share a body. Did you not pay attention when Tim was reading it?" Sasha raised her brow.

Tim huffs. "I couldn't figure out how to turn off the Xray vision on these damn eyes until like an hour before I slept." He had a slight blush on his cheeks. "Then the damn things wouldn't stop focusing on objects miles away."

Gunpowder took back control. "To be fair, I still have trouble controlling them. Human biology and mechanical parts tend to fight until they get into a rhythm. Also, I have like a million years of experience, and Tim does not."

Sasha frowns. "That sounds actually awful. Does Jonny have these problems?"

Gunpowder shrugs. "He never complains, and if he dislikes something, he's quite vocal. I think he uses the ticking as a metronome."

Martin nods. "As boney as he is, he's very nice to sleep too. The ticking is quite soothing." He sighs. "Granted, I won't be able to enjoy any of that for a long while, I reckon."

"Shit, I remembered that this isn't a desert planet." Gunpowder pauses. "Jonnys going to be a little bitch."

"Why?" Sasha raised her brow.

"Jonny's originally from a mostly desert planet, so his tail ears and horns were basically made to keep him cool. Even the nights were hot, so he doesn't exactly have any defenses against the cold, and he makes his complaints known as Gunpowder said." Martin hums. "Although he loves the snow and rain."

"We never said the man made sense." Gunpowder shrugs, letting Tim back in control.

Sasha tilts her head. "What was the planet like that you're from?"

"Gunpowder is from the earth of a different dimension." Tim taps his pen against his desk and adjusts his glasses. "He did however blow up the moon."

"Now you're just fucking with me." Sasha rolls her eyes and heads back to her desk.

Martin chuckles. "Don't feel bad about it. In this time, we've barely had any people on the moon."

"See, I told you!" Tim huffs. "He wouldn't listen to me or the facts I provided."

"Tim, you have to understand where we're coming from. We lived on a spaceship." Martin hums heading to his desk to start working.

Tim sighs. "Still annoying."

.....

Martin stares at the bloody fingernails in the sink. He knew his luck was running out. His body wasn't going to wait till his first death. He could feel how tight his skin felt and how it was hard to walk to breathe. He wasn't scared to become what he was supposed to be, but it would make this so much harder. He flexed his hand, seeing the black claw nails start to poke through his flesh. He doesn't truly care he made peace ages ago with what the doctor made him.

Elias watched Martin with a curious gaze. He can feel the Beholder use his eyes to watch intently. He had a feeling in his gut something changed something twisted in the mere fabric of reality. He hasn't even checked on Jon since he arrived this morning, and the Beholder agreed that something more interesting was happening. Martin was unassuming and predictable, but this was new, and he wanted to know why. He wasn't an avatar, and that also fueled his curiosity. How is he changing without one of the fears?

Martin rubbed his eyes and sighed. He had time, and he had time to prepare. He wanted Jonny. He just wanted that soft ticking, Gunpowder could soothe his anxieties, but Jonny was a comfort. Sure, the man was brash rude and a devil, but he was his, and that was enough. Gunpowder wouldn't touch him till Tim was fully on board with him, and Martin respected that. Hell he was fucking happy with that. Jonny, however, was a mystery, Jon was tighter lipped, and he knew how long it took for Jon to even understand his emotions, let alone actually relie on others.

Martin gathered his fingernails from the sink and threw them out with a sigh. Maybe he could go to artifact storage to slow things. Well, that has just a likely chance to kill him. He doesn't care. Maybe he could convince Gunpowder and Tim to head to the tunnels properly. He finished washing his hands, not even flinching at the exposed nerves.

Elias's gaze intensified as he watched Tim enter the bathroom. More importantly, he removed his sunglasses, revealing new eyes. When did he get surgery? More importantly, how can he still see? He shut his eyes, and he was seeing from Tim's eyes.

Tim scratched his chin. "Martin, you alright?"

Elias saw a man in the mirror that wasn't Tim.

Martin sighs. "I'm fine." He stretches. "Just a bit achey, what about you?"

"I'm fine." Tim crosses his arms. "Ok, maybe not entirely fine, but I'm getting used to it."

The man in the mirror that wasn't Tim spoke and Elias could hear him.

"I know my scars aren't pretty, and I'm sorry." The not Tim sighs.

Tim shook his head. "Dude, I said it's fine." He turns back to Martin. "I'm more peeved about the hair than I am about the scars, and I still haven't agreed to grow it out."

Not Tim huffs.

Martin chuckles. "The two colors look good together, and if you don't grow it out, what else am I supposed to grab?"

Tim swallows, and Elias sees him in the mirror, and he figured it out that this not Tim was in control.

"Oh, don't tease the man. He doesn't understand the fun a simple act can do. Let alone one with those..." Not Tim stops staring at Martin's hand. "When?"

Martin huffs. "Gunpowder, it's fine. You know how you can't hide what the good doctor does to you. I'm fine. I just feel a bit stiff and uncomfortable, but it will pass."

Not Tim or Gunpowder, ridiculous name if you asked Elias. He smiles softly.

"Fuck the waiting, from what I've seen its going to be brutal and he shouldn't be alone..." Tim was speaking out loud now. "He shouldn't have to go through this by him....self... ah, you ass."

Martin raised his brow with a soft smile. "I appreciate the offer, Tim, but you're not exactly desensitized enough for my liking."

Tim huffs. "Then Gunpowder will watch and be out. You don't deserve to be alone through this. I know you have an issue with that, I uh well, Gunpowder knows, and I saw the memory."

"Fine, if you insist." Martin paused, and Elias shivers with that look. "I've shared things with Gunpowder in secret. I don't want you to share with anyone." He grabs Tim's shirt. "Understand?"

Tim swallows and nods.

Martin smiles again as his features soften. "Good, I'll come by your flat tonight."

Tim watches Martin leave with a shudder. Elias doesn't leave yet.

"I warned you about being caught in Blackwood's web. You're not close enough with him to get comfortable." Gunpowder clicks his tongue. "He's not the man you knew, so please don't underestimate him. I would rather not die before Jonny does. We've got a bet going on."

Tim swallows and slides the dark sunglasses back on, and Elias is shocked to see his vision didn't change in the slightest. "He's still a good person."

"That's... well, none of us are good." Gunpowder responds dryly. "It comes with the territory."

Tim didn't like that answer, but he remained quiet as Elias came back to himself. He had a lot to think about.

......

"At least you know how to tell a story." Jonny responds with a bored tone. "These statements still suck, I still suggest we burn the entire place down."

Jon scowls. "No." He stretches and pulls out the used tape. "Can you think of anything that doesn't involve violence.... or sex." He gives a glare.

"Now you're just plain boring." Jonny raised his brow. "Being serious all the time must be fucking exhausting."

Jon sputters. "Just because I'm not some guy who thinks he's immortal and some sex pest doesn't mean anything."

"I don't care what you think of me." Jonny stares directly at Jon. "We are stuck together for the rest of time, and whatever comes after."

Jon scowls. "I won't devolve to be on your level."

Jonny rolls his eyes. "I don't care."

Jon huffs and leaves his office.

"Jon, you ok?" Sasha smiles softly.

Jon stops and sighs. "I'm fine, just getting used to an unfortunate roommate."

"That's one way to call it." Tim mutters.

"You two should try getting along." Sasha hums. "You'll be stuck together forever, I guess. I think it would suck if you two were stuck together fighting for all of that."

Jon scowls. "Oh, he's a right ass only cares about violence and sex. He's nothing but a pest, and I abhor the fact that I have to share my own body with him."

"Oh piss off." Jonny huffs.

Gunpowder sighs. "His attitude comes with his age. He is the oldest of us besides the doctor, but we don't know about her, though, really." He kicks his feet up. "Jonny, I know you're listening. You should be cautious he's going to see memories that you've forgotten. Funny how the mind works even if we forget they still exist in there, just waiting for a trigger to pull them free."

Jon expected Jonny to kick him out and take control, but he felt fear grip his heart that no longer beat. He swallows the dread that wasn't his and doesn't look at Jonny. "I will keep that in mind for when I sleep."

The conversation dies as Jon leaves as the day has ended, and he doesn't want to linger.

.......

The rusty hinges creaked on the old shack the teen called a home. He made sure he tipped off his shoes before entering, and he saw his father passed out in a drunken stupor. He carefully made his way to the small kitchen connected to the living room. If you would call it, that and stumbled upon a note.

"Jonny boy, I've left to clean up after your father. He pissed off some old doctor at the edge of town. I've left old Bessie for you to make sure she's in better condition when I get back, boy. Now, if I don't come back, I know you won't end up like your father. You're too smart for that. Use your ears to find a target to shoot. We both know your eyes aren't the best use that good hearing of yours. Don't file your horns too short boy they grow for a reason, and I love you forever and always."

Wrapped in leather by the note was a familair old looking revolver, the name Bessie was carved crudely into the handle. The weight would become familair in the teen's hands. He took the note scowled at his father and then headed off to hunt for dinner since that lazy piece of shit won't do anything but gamble.

Jon woke up with a start. He could feel a rush of emotions that weren't his. "I..."

"Don't say a fucking word." Jonny scowls. "Don't go telling nobody about that."

Jon nodded he paused, squinting at the clock that glowed, showing it was 3am. He sighs. "I don't remember my mother, or my father, with died at different times, but I was too young to remember them. My grandmother raised me, bitter she had to raise another child. Never told me that directly, however."

Jonny braces himself and grits his teeth. "I don't remember what my mom looks like either."

"Then we have that in common. Maybe the next dream will be my memory, and you can pick apart that." Jon sighs and curls under his blanket.

Jonny nods. "Just go back to sleep."

......

Martin grits his teeth and groans in pure agony. He could barely register the hand going through his red curls. His legs hurt, and he couldn't move them. His skin felt like it was on fire, and he didn't particularly like burning to death. He was stripped down to his birthday suit, and it didn't help with the fact that he was in pure agony.

Gunpowder continues to run his hands through Martin's hair. "It's alright, you're ok. It will be over soon."

"Just fucking kill me." Martin groans.

"We both know that won't help." Gunpowder sighs. "Would you like to hear my story?"

Martin takes a deep breath. "Please distract me."

Gunpowder nods and begins to narrate his origins.

....

An obnoxious alarm pulled Tim from sleep on the floor. He was laying in something wet and the smell of iron... no blood filled his nose, which caused him to panic and flail completely awake. His eyes lock onto a large spider, half then blood, then flesh and bone. Gunpowder takes over before he can throw up.

"Yikes, I thought the shared emotions wouldn't be this strong. Man, you are super depressed." Gunpowder gets up, smearing the blood off from his body. "You're going to need a stronger stomach." He looked over Martin, who was out cold. "See, he's breathing.... please stop screaming. " he covers his mouth, feeling his stomach sour from the sheer fear and disgust from Tim. He swallows the bile rising in his throat, turns away from the scene, and heads to the bathroom.

Gunpowder barely makes it to the toilet to empty the contents of his stomach. He continues to dry heave for a moment before turning to face Tim. "Are you done?"

Tim was pale, and he finally caught his breath. He was still radiating fear and disgust, but he was stable enough to talk. "Is he still alive?"

Gunpowder wipes his mouth. "Of course he is. What part of we can't die, don't you understand?" He frowns, pulling back his frustration. "Sorry you can't control how you react yet. I didn't realize how much I would share when we feel strong emotions." He sits on his knees and sighs. "I'll clean up, just try not to get sick again, please."

Tim nods and shudders. "I.... I'm not desensitized to this stuff. I'm sorry."

Gunpowder gets up, feeling the soft twists of sadness and self-doubt. "Tim, it's not a bad thing, means you're still human. Don't be too hard on yourself." He pulls out some cleaning supplies from the bathroom cabinet. "Tell me about Danny."

Tim frowns and nods slightly. "He was my younger brother...."

.....

Martin wakes up to someone touching his hand. He furrows his brow, pulling his hand back, and skitters up to be his full height, staring down at Tim. He hissed and then blushed, finally realizing that Tim was, in fact, there, and he wasn't a threat. He covers his face and groans, playing out his legs to be shorter. "I didn't mean to hiss at you."

Tim looked over to Gunpowder giggling, and he felt a laugh bubble in his own throat, and wow, no wonder he got frustrated. He didn't exactly know how he felt about feeling someone else's emotions. He gave a soft smile and reached out again to hold Martin's hand. "Your hands are really like a cat's paw."

Martin smiles and lets Tim take his hand. "Spiders have padded limbs and toe beans if you actually look at them."

"That's actually really cute." Tim blushes slightly. "Oh shit how are we going to get to work?"

Martin shrugs. "Might as well scare Elias first."

"Really?" Tim snickers. "What is he scared of spiders?"

"No, he's scared of what they represent." Martin hums. "We're going to be late, and I need a shirt."

"Right, you brought a spare one, right?" Tim paused and rushed over to a bag Martin brought. "Also, you're going to have to talk to my neighbors because of all the stuff we threw out, and they probably think I'm a serial killer."

Martin snickers. "I think I'll scare them into silence."

"Man, I've seen too much of Gunpowder, and Jonny and you having fun together to remember that I'm supposed to be scared of you because you're a spider centaur." Tim tosses over a sweater.

"I suppose I don't find myself scary either. Honestly, the fear left pretty quickly once I realized how my new body worked." Martin smiles. "This will be obnoxious getting to work. I don't mind walking. You live much closer than I do, but being stared at isn't ideal."

"Maybe a blanket?" Tim stops and covers his face. "That wouldn't work."

Martin chuckles. "I appreciate the concept idea, but Jonny tried that once."

"Wait really?" Tim raised his brow.

"Yeah, ended up in a bar fight." Martin snickers. "Although it was fucking hilarious."

"Huh." Tim crosses his arms. "Just bite the bullet and head out?"

"After you." Martin hums and smiles.

.....

Elias blinks, and the scene doesn't change. What confounds him the most is the fact that this has nothing to do with the web. The Beholder is taking it all in, and he can feel actual confusion from his patron. He clears his throat and approaches. "Martin, I don't believe it's near Halloween unless you've got an event planned."

Martin hums impressed at how well Elias can mask his true emotions. "I don't think a costume would be strong enough to carry someone on." He motions to Tim who waves.

"He insisted that he carry me." Tim smiles.

"Well, yes, but I hope I don't cause you too much trouble." Martin smiles. "Why the surprise this is your institute, and shouldn't you expect the supernatural?" He has a smirk as he walks past a stunned Elias.

Elias doesn't have a response to that. His mind was completely blank, and the Beholder was eerily silent.

Tim was snickering. "Double boss man seems quite stunned."

Martin chuckles. "Oh, this is quite fun."

That thought came crashing down with a terrified scream and wide eyed stares.

Martin felt exposed, and he couldn't remember the last time he felt bad about his body until this moment. He knows Tim can feel him tense. "I..."

"Jon, seriously?" Tim huffs sliding off Martin's back. "It's not his fault he's like this."

Jon was trying really hard to keep his panic and fear in check, and he felt a growing bubble of white hot rage directed at him and feeling it. The feedback loop was really confusing. "I uh..." He was forced out by Jonny.

"Fuck off." Jonny took back control his tail was lashing and puffed out at the end. His ears were pinned back, and the hair on top of his head was puffing out. "Seriously fuck off I don't judge you for who you carnally desire. Blackwood is mine, and you have absolutely no right." He goes o continue his rant, but a tooth falls out. He blinks as confusion fills his features, and he crouched down to poke it.

Martin opens his mouth and closes it. "You know I remember now what he was missing, the teeth."

"The teeth." Gunpowder repeats with a nod.

"I'm sorry Martin, are you ok?" Sasha vaguely motions.

"I mean, it was painful, but it doesn't hurt now." Martin pauses. "I have to figure out how to use my desk."

Tim is getting back control, pulling his eyes away from Jonny, now messing with his teeth. "I mean, you can get rid of the chair and move from there."

"That could work." Martin hums and looks over to Jonny. "Are you ok?"

Jonny holds a handful of his teeth. "What do you think?" He scowls. "Well fuck you too. No, I'm mad at you. That's a stupid fucking question, I don't care about spiders let alone being scared of them."

Three pairs of eyes watch the one sided argument.

.....

A fog seemed to roll into Elias's office out of nowhere, and a tall, muscular man in a captains attire steps inside. The man stops and stares at Elias, who had his head down on his desk. "Elias?"

Elias groans. "Peter."

"Shouldn't you be enjoying your new archivist floundering?" Peter raised his brow.

Elias takes a breath. "Peter, I have called every avatar I ever had contact with to ask if they knew what was going on with my archivist and his assistants. I have no leads, and the Beholder is clueless."

Peter opens his mouth then shuts it with a click.

"Do you have any idea what's happening? Because I don't have a singlaur clue." Elias throws his hands up. "One of the archivist assistants is a half spider centaur, and he's not even aligned with the web. The other has mechanical eyes that still work as eyes. That technology doesn't exist, and the Flesh doesn't bother with machines."

Peter reaches out. "I think you need a vacation."

Elias slams his hands against his desk. "Peter, I'm serious!" He gets up and grabs Peter's arm, and drags him to the archives.

Peter stared stunned.

#the mechanisms #the magnus archives #jonny d'ville #jonathan sims #sasha james #tim stoker #gunpowder tim #martin blackwood

[duchessofostergotlands]

First of all I begin this by wishing the best to all those who have been affected in one way or another with this terrible disease such as cancer as well as any other disease of this nature.

One thing I have seen since the announcement came out yesterday is still people criticizing William as to why he was not there with Catherine at the time the announcement was made and it is maddening to see how some people are so inept.

In September of last year on a Wednesday a surgery my aunt had to remove two cysts that the doctor said would only take two hours, turned into a seven hour surgery and with practically half of my aunt's small intestine removed. I still remember when I woke up and my mom felt me up to tell me that my aunt, a lady who has always taken care of herself young (48 years old) had cancer and was in intensive care. The shock that felt like a bucket of cold water was something that to this day I cannot explain. The next day my grandfather was likewise diagnosed with protest cancer. The process of my aunt who was the one who was worse than my grandfather is one that has not even been seven months yet but these are things that we as a family have been a constant change. The food, now it is all gluten free until at least her intestine gets used to it and even then there is food that she may never be able to eat again; now she looks like a duck (her own words) since every time she eats she goes to the bathroom, sometimes without needing to eat just out of nowhere she can no longer regulate her urge to go to the bathroom, which her oncologist says is normal. Now she can't wear high heels either, a lady who, being a lawyer, is used to wear high heels all the time.

I say this because I think it is important for people to know that the cancer pathway, like many other life changing diseases, is not linear, sometimes you feel good, other times you get tired and all this despite the fact that my aunt is on preventive treatment. Not chemotherapy but some pills

I hope you and your family are doing ok. It sounds like a very challenging situation but you also seem to have a very close family relationship so hopefully you're all supporting each other :)

I mean, surely William could have been off screen? I haven't read anything about whether he was there one way or another, it's not relevant to me, but it's like they don't know the universe doesn't end at the edge of the screen lol. But anyway, bottom line is it's Kate's body. Not William's. I'm really tired of the constant infantilising that's been happening in recent weeks, on both sides of this conversation. I'll talk about some of this in the podcast in more depth but William is her husband and the father of her children, not her minder. I don't know why people insist on treating ill people - especially women - as if they're children who can't make up their own minds about what happens to them. Of course there's vulnerability that comes with it, people need extra support. But she's not a baby. If she'd needed or wanted William to sit on a bench next to her in total silence, I have no doubt he would have done it. She clearly didn't.

#ask #anon #Kate Middleton #british royal family #2024 #prince william

[factorialsotherfandoms]

TW: very serious illness, vomiting, choking, etc

A series of scenes of a very sick Forever, with massively variable amounts of time between them. They're random and disjointed, just like his ability to comprehend.

Forever is in hell, in absolute hell. Agony stems from his cheek and his hand, bleeding, black agony. Sweat pours down his face, but no matter what he does he feels no warmth. His entire body aches, so bad he cannot even reach out and pull a blanket back over himself. In his dreams he hears clocks, and smells gunpowder, and sees fire and blood engulfing everything - Richarlyson, the Favela, the Island - and crushing it all to dust. He screams for his friends, for his family, or he would if he could only get breath into his lungs.

Fingers touch his forehead - far, far from the agony in his cheek - and he tries to chase after him. There's soft words he doesn't understand from a gentle voice, and a spoon at his lips.

He tries to drink it, the warm liquid which tastes of nothing, he really does.

He chokes instead.

Hacking and coughing and wheezing, and he can just about hear sobbing tears as he's turned on his side, someone rubbing his back as he vomits half a spoon of broth and a great deal of stomach acid.

He was already exhausted, but even with help the action leaves him in the dark.

Even when his brain shuts off from exhaustion he can hear the sobbing, the begging, and he thinks - don't you know I want this to end too?

---

"Forever? I'm sorry I can't stay, but I need to go look after Richas. He's awake now! He misses you. So... You've got to wake up, okay? I don't want to risk him getting sick, too, so you've got to get better so you can cuddle him. You'll be okay while I'm gone? I hope so. I'll be back really soon, I promise, I know for all you pretend otherwise you hate being alone. I'd get Bad to sit with you, but... He's also sick, and I'm really worried one of you would end up killing the other. It's a different sick, and I don't think you'll manage two..."

---

Forever wakes in the middle of the night. He's too hot, or maybe too cold, and something's missing - where is Richarlyson, where is his son? Wasn't his son sick? He should find him - he needs to find him.

In a blur he cannot quite remember the details, but he knows he needs his baby. Blankets drag after him as he wanders the halls of his house, calling for his Richas in a voice barely audible as he does. His voice cracks and breaks on every note, and leaves him hunched in a coughing fit every third. Still, still, he needs his baby - where is his baby?

"Richas," he calls, wandering the silent hallways and empty gardens with nothing but a blanket between him and wintery air. "Richas?"

He isn't sure where he is, but he keeps looking for his son until the sun rises and his body gives in and collapses.

---

"Forever! Forever can you hear me?!"

"Shit, Pac, what happened?"

"I don't know, I don't know, I came with food and he was missing and then I found him here."

"Shit, okay, let's... Let's just get him inside. You get his legs, okay?"

"Okay."

"Fuck he's burning up - have you managed to get him to keep water down yet?"

"No, not yet, we might need to... He needs a doctor, Fit, a real one."

"One problem at a time, Pac; we'll get him inside then we'll work that out."

"I don't think we should leave him alone any more. I'd ask Bad, but..."

"But he's... Fuck. Okay. Let's just get him safe, I'll grab some IVs from the Order, and then we'll see who we can find. Baby steps, Pac, remember the baby steps."

---

It's dark and it's cold and the world is made of ice. After so long in the Nether, Forever's body can't handle it any more. There's a blanket over him, but it seems to do nothing for the frozen chill.

He reaches out, tries to find another, or maybe pull the cushions of the couch onto himself, but he doesn't find softness - he finds metal.

Confused he tries to wake up more, but then someone takes his hand.

"Go back to sleep," the owner of the hand tells him. "You'll... You'll feel better in the morning."

Forever tries to tell him it's too cold; he's gently shushed, the tears that drip onto his face equally cold.

The tears should be warm.

With that realisation, Forever is absolutely certain that he is going to die. In a single moment of clarity that reality hits him - he's going to die, and it won't be a death he can come back from.

"Please, Forever, sleep," the person with him begs again.

If he dies now... If he dies now he dies in the cold, but he won't be alone.

It's a better death than he could have hoped for, to not be alone when it happens.

---

"How is he doing?"

"It... It's.. He's... He's dying, Bagi. He's dying, and there's nothing we can do."

"Is there medicine that would help? Maybe if we ask the Federation... They hate us, but surely they don't want their President to die?"

"We're already giving him everything we have... Nothing seems to be working. I- I can't- We're doing everything! I don't know how to help him, I don't know how to help anyone!"

"Surely there's something else? There has to be? We- There must be a way we can help him. You made the cure for the happy pills, right? That's what Fit said - can you make anything for this?"

"I... I can try? The lab is still set up, but I'm not sure what else I can do... And it takes so long - I don't even know where to start, we don't even know what's wrong with him! I can't- I- I'd need to work that out first, and I don't... I don't think he has that long..."

"Anything, Pac, anything is better than this!"

"I know that! Can't you see I'm trying! I'm doing everything I can!"

"There's got to be something!"

"If there was don't you think I'd be doing it already?!"

"Pac!"

"..."

"... Pac?"

---

Forever wakes in agony and with a scream - he's burning and burning in fires of his own creation, a thousand totems shattered as the ground explodes around him. There's something on - in - his body, twisting and curling and fighting in. He sobs and he screams with everything he has, trying to escape what is already inside.

Meaningless words, meaningless voices, but the arms which grab him and pull him into a hug make sense.

He's in pain, he doesn't understand, his head is on fire and it's a struggle to breathe, but someone - anyone, he isn't sure who - is holding him like he /matters/.

He sobs into their neck and takes the gentle nonsense-noises he can, until a second someone starts nudging his face. He doesn't have the strength to object, even as they put pills in his mouth, and a glass to his lips.

This time he manages to swallow, but it hurts - it hurts so much, he feels them all the way down as his throat tries to reject them.

Fingers in his hair try to soothe him, but he sobs again as a broth is dripped from a spoon to his lips - it hurts less than the pills, the warmth soothes the daggers in his throat, but it hurts it still hurts it still hurts.

Forever must whine, because the soothing from the person holding him gets a little more insistent. The other voice is saying something, too, gently wiping spilt broth from his chin. He can't follow it even slightly, despite recognising their voice as his native Portuguese.

After a little bit they put him back under the now strangely dry covers. He tries to grab, to cling to the comfort; the person hugging him still lets go, but then sits beside the bed, holding the hand that doesn't burn and brushing sticky hair from his forehead.

He tries to focus on that instead of the agony as he drifts to sleep once again.

---

"Thank fuck for that."

"Phil?"

"We managed to get him to swallow your pills, Pac - and some food. Seems the fever might finally be coming down."

"Thank you, thank you - let me check."

"Go ahead, and Bagi's the one who actually got him to swallow. I was just moral support."

"Okay, okay..."

"How's he doing?"

"Bad. Better, but bad."

"Better is about all we can ask... You'll be alright with him?"

"Fit's coming soon; we'll be okay."

"You're doing great, Pac, just remember to get some sleep yourself."

---

Everything aches and everything hurts, but Forever can at least think when he wakes up. He's drenched in sweat, and even turning his head feels like more energy than he has. There's wires and needles and monitors covering him, but he's not at the hospital - it looks like his base.

Not the couch, though - he remembers passing out on the couch.

Instead he's on a bed he definitely doesn't own, and FitMC of all people is dozing on his couch. And asleep beside him, holding his hand tight, is Pac.

He looks at his friend, and breathes.

The breath becomes a cough, and it startles Pac awake. Forever watches his eyes jump immediately to the monitors, only relaxing when he's read them.

And then Pac's eyes turn down, and he asks "Forever?"

"Hi," Forever doesn't quite have the strength to form words fully, but he mouths them and hopes he's understood.

"How are you feeling?"

Forever decides on just pulling a face; it earns a laugh, which quickly turns to unusually quiet tears.

"I'll let the others know you're awake," Pac smiles with the tears. "Just give them a minute."

"What-?" Forever tries to ask.

Pac puts tablets to his lips, and makes him swallow them with a 'shhh'.

The things taste foul - too foul to be any concoction of the Federation.

"The eggs are all awake," Pac starts with that information. "Some are having a bit of trouble with the new eggs, but I'm sure it'll settle down soon. We haven't heard anything from the Federation except a new happiness system, and it's been quiet. But... But some people are still missing - Baghera and Cellbit and Max and Foolish... Maybe more. And Bad is also really sick."

"With-?" Forever's voice fails; his bad hand manages just about to twitch.

Pac shakes his head, "he won't let us see, but there's memory loss. I think... Maybe the nuke caught him?"

Nuke? Forever's body seizes at the very thought of it - of a nuke, or a world eater, or-

He can't continue the thought, because something small barrels into his chest. Small, with a mooshroom hat on, and Forever can't breathe for a moment from the sheer force, but it's Richarlyson - it's his son.

He zones out whatever the people who came with him say, too exhausted to follow more conversations - and, worse, one in English. Instead he somehow finds the strength to lift his arms just enough to hug Richarlyson back, pressing a kiss to his hat as it's the only thing Forever can reach.

""Richas," he manages to whisper. "I missed you."

His son clings to him tighter, and one of his friends brushes his hair, and Forever is still sore and in pain and can tell he's very, very sick. But it's okay, it's okay, because his family are here.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp forever #qsmp pac #angst #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #trigger warnings are in the post itself #and anything worse than generic illness below cut #whumpcember2023 #prompt: sickness

[brain-amoeba]

Hii! Thinking about medic with a reader who's first language is also German. Idk what you wanna do with it, general hcs or whatever, but I imagine the moment reader notices he has an accent they speak to him exclusively in German lmao

you + all the other lovely anons who have sent me the most toe curling and amazing asks are fueling my fire and i fear with this one i may slightly disappoint only because i dont speak German....so if you do speak German please bare with my shoddy google translate skills..and feel free to correct any grammatical errors or give advice!! :D

in which reader is medic's newly assigned help and at first he brushes you off until he catches you speaking German

***

Medic typically did not pay the various assistants who came and went any mind. If anything, he was indignant towards the concept at all! The Doktor was perfectly capable of handling his workload and aiding the fellow mercenaries in battle perfectly fine--so why do they insist on hiring these nutzlos (useless) assistants?! With a heavy sigh, Medic returns to his medbay to find you hunched over the sink in concentration. Unfortunately for you, a stray scalpel acquainted itself with your finger while cleaning the examination table. You squeeze your finger under the running faucet, and between sharp inhales murmured curses to yourself for being so clumsy. "Verdammt! Es tut sehr weh...zu viel blut..so eine kleine schnittwunde!" (Damn it, it hurts a lot..so much blood..such a small cut!) Medic stopped dead in his tracks. Did he hear that correctly? He inched closer to you, but kept his distance--as if you were a skiddish doe, for fear of scaring you off. His heart was almost beating out of his chest...dammit, why was the thought of another human within a 5 mile radius speaking his mother tongue so exhilarating?! ...Eine frau, no less?! The medic cleared his throat as to passively make his presence known. "Ehm, fraülein, sprichst du auch Deutsch?" (Do you also speak German?)

You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, but quickly looked over your shoulder while still tending to your wound. "Jawohl, Herr Doktor...hilfe, bitte?!" (Yes sir, Doctor... help, please?!) You showed him your bleeding finger, squeezing still to dramatize the wound as scarlet beads spurted from the opening like tears. "Right, but of course, schatz!" Medic rushed to your side, and helped you sanitize your wound. With one swift movement, he shut off the faucet and led you to the examination table by the waist. "Seems a little excessive for a surface cut, don't you think, Doctor? ...I just needed a little help getting patched up." You asked, sitting nervously atop the unwelcoming metal surface. "Oh, nein, we can't afford to have anything happen to meine lieblingsassistent!" He mused, carefully handling your injured digit as he spoke. Medic applied a topical antibacterial whose sting earned an audible wince from you, screwing your eyes shut. He continued, humming too excitedly as he proceeded to wrap your delicate finger in gauze and fasten it to ensure your wound may heal properly and be free from infection. "Sehr gut!" Medic smiled at you innocently and gave you a gentle head-pat before turning to stow away his equipment.

Upon finishing, he gently took your hand in his and left a courtly kiss atop it. "...?! Herr doktor, what has gotten into you?" Your body was set ablaze with a new type of anxiety, excitement, and confusion than ever felt before. You attempted to maintain your professionalism, but the way Medic gazed upon you now, half-lidded and piercing past his circular lenses and into your very core...you knew this was no way a boss treated their subordinate. The Doktor sighed as he slowly tightened his grip on your hand. You whimpered, attempting to pull away. What a mistake that was! Wordlessly, he pulled you towards him in one fell swoop and instantly closed the safe distance between the two of you. "Oh, fraülein, I just remembered...I never gave you a proper examination! It's simply a routine checkup." His free hand now rested atop your head, thumb gently caressing along where your hair parts. "Worry not...I am more than qualified to perform any necessary gynecological procedures, schatz!"

#team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 medic x reader #fem reader #team fortress 2 medic #one shot

[yurious-george]

4'33'', by John Cage, is commonly remembered as 4 and a half minutes of silence. But contrary to popular belief, the song is not actually meant to be the sound of silence, but the sound of quiet. Ambient noises contribute to - and consist of - the performance. True silence does not exist. If one tilts their head right, the whole world sings. and, with that said, a playlist.

yeah, this one's a doozy. hi, cubewatermelon and co. miss me?

rhetorical question. don't answer that.

A few nitty-gritty things out of the way, first. this is specifically intended for the 2018 mod team for the sleepless domain fans discord server, primarily cubewatermelon/mary cagle. Folks who knew me are welcome to look on, but I'm not going to do much to catch people up to speed. hi, everyone! hope you're well!

I also might be a bit disjointed or biased in my recollection. For reasons that will be made clear extremely soon, I can't put my childhood on a linear timeline. I can only express myself, and hope I don't mess it up horribly this time.

Noooowww to the big stuff. re: stalking; i genuinely didn't mean to stalk anyone, and when they told me to back off, i backed off. I am not willing to discuss this further. not being able to conceptualize other people's emotions or the consequences of my actions has caused some problems for me

that's an autism thing btw. im autistic i dont think i told anyone that

And now, the special guest you've all been waiting for: a big round of applause for the elephant in the room! In accordance with the WMA Declaration of Tokyo, the deliberate overprescription of psychotropic medication is a form of pharmacological torture. Most victims of pharmacological torture and experimentation are children, because it is nigh-impossible to sue for brain damage when there is no fully-formed adult brain for comparison prior to the abuse.

Torture is a strong word, but I don't have another word to use. psychiatric abuse usually describes mistreatment in psychiatric wards; pharmacological abuse describes a patient who takes advantage of a prescription; medical abuse is when a doctor (usually physically) abuses their patient. Being able to understand what happened to you is a form of agency, and I don't even have the words. I identify as a torture victim; this may change.

This high dose was precedented and legal, but the vaginal stretching of intersex infants is also legal. much involuntary psychiatric & psychotropic treatment (such as restraints and solitary confinement) are legal, and child marriage is legal. abuse is not abnormal: it is profoundly normal. Because something is normal, legal, and precedented does not prevent it from being torture.

and when your mother hands you a poison apple and says "here, eat this; it will be good for you; i hope someday you'll forgive me" you have to eat it, because you are eight years old and you don't get to argue with your mother. despite all this, I don't blame my aunt for refilling the high dose. when I said the dose was hurting me, she listened. (thank you, auntie. i wouldn't have gotten out without you.)

And this brings us to you. oh, you four. (five? i forget myself!)

I'd like to establish some context. I was used to things getting taken from me. friend groups in particular: I didn't expect to keep any friends, because I constantly expected to have to pack up and move on. I moved a lot in my childhood, and in Africa, i was constantly told that at some undetermined point in the near future, i'd have to go back to the states. living with my aunt was a temporary thing, i was expected to eventually move back in with my parents at some undetermined point in the future. I relied heavily on online friends because they were people I could have anywhere, so online communities were my only lifeline - not to mention, i was basically in solitary confinement while in Kenya.

Most of all, I was terrified of my mental health/actions being exposed, examined, found lacking, and ultimately excluded. (this is why i was so afraid of psychiatric wards.) When you decided something had to be done about me - cutting me off from the server so i had to speak with you - It was either comply with your demands to communicate (which I could not, and did not understand why) or lose the community. I was so, so afraid of you i wanted to die when you all confronted me, and of course i couldn't say that, because only manipulative people would say "your attempt to solve this problem makes me want to seriously hurt myself."

But then I got called manipulative anyway <3 yay <3

Seriously: I wasn't trying to manipulate anyone, and i have no idea how you can manipulate someone without intention. (ah, that felt good to say!) Between medication spellbinding, alexithymia, and prior abuse, all my thoughts were so disordered i genuinely couldn't explain myself most of the time. Looking back, I have no childhood memory where I was fully lucid. I leaned into a manic persona because it was the only way I had any agency at all. I was something beyond both reason and self-recognition, and I willingly tried to brute-force my way through an extreme trauma response to please you. And you still hit me with my worst nightmare. that's why i was mad at you lol

I was so, so afraid, all the time, and I didn't even have the tools to understand I was afraid. How could someone as confident and impulsive as me be so fearful all the time? Was that manic persona freedom? Or was it a longer leash?

(Forgive my impulse toward rhetoric. I shouldn't ask questions you can't answer.)

I also couldn't say how badly i was hurting, because that would be venting, but you also accused me of venting when I was just talking about my day? or what was on my mind? I didn't understand that very well. autism moment, don't bother explaining it now. I also couldn't burden people with my actual mental health problems, because making strangers deal with that would be toxic! I resent you for setting up a system where it seemed safest not to speak and then punishing me for my inability to communicate. I resent every system that set me up for failure and punished me for failing, including yours.

And yet - I know that was not your intent! I can see in retrospect how hard you tried to be kind using the tools you had. The people with power over me, who genuinely did not want to do me harm and gave me multiple second chances, still upheld and facilitated the systems that tortured me; a miniature parody of the psychiatric system. (talk therapy and communication are useless if you struggle with self-awareness.) The same is true for the source: No person in my psychiatric treatment wanted me to suffer, and yet, here I am: a torture victim without a torturer. (except my parents, sort of.)

The logical conclusion, then: the system only intends to heal those who are already compliant, or prioritize compliance. The rest of us are treated to induce compliance, and if we still cannot, we are sequestered away. My medicine made me sick, and my prescribers made money off of keeping me sick - off of my torture. This is not a conspiracy: it is my lived experience.

However, even if i could communicate perfectly, we still would have had massive communication issues. Like - you know that one page where ben and steffi talk about dating, and ben says he thought steffi was gay? and steffi gets super defensive and it escalates into a screaming fight? I found that offensive, because a character getting that offput by the concept of not liking men (or a man) is kind of lesbophobic! But I understood that it would be a pain to redraw/write the page so they they fight about something else, don't fight, or some other solution, so i didn't need it to be fixed - just wanted to point out that was a reasonable interpretation, and one to be aware of in the future. but somehow my concerns got interpreted as a phrasing issue…? like, Ms. Cagle rewrote the page to say "weren't into guys" instead of "gay"..? You were very polite about it, Ms! But I found this interaction so baffling I didn't even try to correct it. that… wasn't what i said…

frankly we should bring back mildly homophobic steffi. twas narratively appropriate (<- different essay for a different time)

but yeah the whole communication operation was doomed from the start. rip!

The issue was always my inability to communicate, but my meds made it nigh-impossible to understand what I was feeling, and when I did, expressing myself could get me institutionalized. My suffering was inevitable but always, somehow, my fault. Awesome! *disintegrates into a pile of sand*

I cannot deny I was a girl like a box of matches waiting to be struck. You had no choice but to do as you did. But is it really what you ought to have done? (On this, I have no answer. I hope you have one that satisfies you.)

(that was genuine, by the by. i've spent a lot of time pondering this mess, and I still haven't found the "right" answer. I don't think there is one - though action or inaction, there is no version of this story where I don't suffer. I can only hope it was worth it. wait, hold on *adds the omelas child to my Kin List*)

Nor can I deny making my previous open letter in a small attempt to 'get back' at you - i'm not above that. lord knows i'm not innocent. but i really was trying to channel that rage into something productive. unfortunately i was doomed to fail because i didn't know what i meant. if you showed me that letter now, you'd hear a lot of "what? I don't know why I said that" "i have no idea why i would complain about something so minor" etc. You can disregard all that. This is what I was trying to say. the obsession, the trauma, the projection: all of it. So much of my obsession was talking around an issue i couldn't identify.

(meguka image) I know now

I knew I would be traumatized by this whole situation. I saw it coming and i could do nothing to stop it. But Gear was crucial to deciphering all this - in fact, suddenly thinking about her last year prompted me to really dissect my medical situation and realize i was tortured. I couldn't have done it without her. cassie & maggie, against the world.

Gear scans surprisingly well as a victim of long-term torture, actually. I don't think you meant to do that but good job!

speaking of her - i still don't think she's consistently suicidal. she's a real cockroach of a character, and I love her for it! But sometimes, i want to die and i want to live mean the same thing, because they both mean i need to get out of here. Imo, her thought processes and desires frequently contradict themselves, like mine did. and making your favs kill themselves in increasingly gruesome ways is really fun catharsis!

But please don't take this to mean I consider myself - or Gear - blameless. I love her because she's not blameless, because she's cruel for fun, because she'd rather be wicked than helpless. Like knows like. What I mean to say is, as of 2018, there is a black space between little Margret and Gear, and I saw all the signs of something very, very bad happening in that space. I know because I shared that space. what I mean to say is, teenage girls don't go out of their minds over nothing. Everything I made here is just an expression of what I heard in the narrative's silences.

and thus my biggest apprehension around revisiting the comic. knowing the author and I have such fundamentally different experiences with mental health - what if the signs of torture i picked up on weren't intended, or i completely made them up? what if, in the parts i haven't read yet, there's information that uproots my entire interpretation, or berates her for refusing mental health services that hurt me profoundly? how do you reconcile that a character so crucial to deciphering yourself may not be anything like you at all? I Don't Know. Shitpost, probably

You're welcome to share those shitposts and whatnot by the way. Creating this let me put down years of hurt, and i hope it relieves you, too. I don't need to go back on the server, or forgiveness, or anything besides understanding. consider this a peace offering. the terms are yours.

Despite writing nearly 10k words, I still probably missed something or was callous or whatever. Self-expression and self-understanding are… new to me. My apology may be understated, but please take it as I meant it, with utmost sincerity. My askbox is open, and I'm more than happy to discuss antipsych resources, KB, What The Hell Is Wrong With Gear, artistic choices made in this comic, etc. I'm even down to reconnect on discord! Maybe. Uh, I'm conflicted. I reserve my right to not want to talk, be slow in responding, and so on, as should you. we've no obligations and all the time in the world. Let neither of us hurt ourselves in meeting because it's the "right" thing to do. I'm not blaming anyone or trying to start drama. If it would give you the most peace of mind to completely ignore this, please do so.

or, translated: as of right now, I'm not ready for any information about KB after steffi reunites with her dad, or difficult emotional reunions. I would really like to hear from everyone, and I'd appreciate casual well-wishes. I don't want things to be the same, I want them to be peaceful. Baby steps, cassie, baby steps. (very large and fearful prey animal tries not to run into oncoming traffic)

mostly, making this was for me. Perhaps I've said too much, but after spending so long unable to express myself freely, my art was cathartic and necessary. I'm no one's martyr or innocent, I'm just a torture victim trying to make sense of it all. I want to articulate some thoughts I couldn't figure out how to say before and make some silly things that make people laugh. Most of all, I'm happy in ways I never thought I could be, and I would like to share that joy with old acquaintances and other fans of a story I adored.

What I mean to say is: The train's about to leave the station, and there's an empty seat beside me. The train will still leave whether or not you board; but I would be honored not to go it alone!

Thank you to everyone who stuck by me even after the drama. Ethel, Felipe, Chris - even though we've fallen out of contact, your kindness and patience meant more than i can say. special thank you to @stars-in-a-jam-jar, the first person i confessed everything to after the smoke cleared, and someone i consider myself close with no matter how long we fall out of contact. My close online friends, @shafpanda, @theoandmoon, @dvanaestmrva, my honorary cousin @my-name-is-jimmy, and everyone else I confided in about my torture. and, of course, my partners @transloo and @teenyjellyfishy, and my little sibling, @aroacenezhaanddainsleif, the three people I love most in the world. Thank you, all. it is an honor to love you, and be loved by you.

#kiwi blitz #there's a lot more we could discuss. this barely scratched the surface #i didn't even MENTION barry and he's so important! #for now I'll just say: pain obfuscates everything outside of yourself #i still can't really conceptualize how yall feel about my actions other than 'probably bad?' #so i decided it was in the best taste to simply speak for myself #rather than put words in your mouth #i hope that's the right choice #it's funny. i thought i'd be angrier. #now there's just hope where my rage should be. how'd that happen? #torture tw #child torture tw #gore tw #medical abuse tw #psychiatric abuse tw #suicide tw #death tw #blood tw #abuse tw #parental abuse tw #child abuse tw #suicidal ideation tw #uhhh there's more probably. quite the laundry list here #also! you would express romantic attraction really strangely too #(as a severely undersocialized & completely manic lesbian teenager) #if you knew what happened to david kato. #not saying i was right obv. just saying. #ok back to never speaking of that again #this is cassandra #i dont want this to show up in the kb tag. i'll delete it later

[thenugking]

star beast thoughts

Deeply enjoyed it. I've been worried that I only liked original RTD because it was my first Doctor Who, and now that I'm an adult with critical thinking skills, I won't enjoy his stuff half as much. It might just be the return of Ten and Donna, but everything came rushing back.

lots of very funny moments that made me laugh out loud

Not sure how I feel about the opening credits, but I love the theme music

love shirley, p sure she's a recurring character now, very happy for that. Her dynamic with the Doctor was immediately Great.

i like the quiet acknowledgement that sylvia and wilf are fucking Traumatised and have been terrified every time aliens happen for 15 years

Shaun seems very nice! Love the reference to Nerys too, Nerys was great, I love her frenemies thing with Donna.

I gotta apologise for misgendering the Meep for years. Beep the Meep's pronouns are the/Meep, thank u rose.

the scene abt wilf landed Oddly though considering bernard cribbins Is dead now. idk reshooting it might have been difficult but it left a bad taste when they're going "lol he's not dead why would you think that dumbass"

Love Donna's family. Love the scene of Sylvia trying to be Supportive of her trans granddaughter while Struggling bc yeah she's trying but she's not perfect. Love that Sylvia in general is still abrasive but no longer straight up emotionally abusive (which I think was true of The End of Time too, but she's in this one a lot more)

Not sure why they bothered to include Fudge since he didn't do anything?? it felt like fanservice but like…. they aged him down and took out his mum, who was one of the funniest characters in the comic, so what's the point of keeping him?? Would have liked to see him interact with Rose more.

I did like that they went to an effort to make the wrarth warriors actually sympathetic in this one though, pointing out they use painless stun guns, rather than "oh well they're policemen so they're automatically Good" and also not having them plant a bomb in the doctor's stomach. That was fucked up.

The stuff leading up to Donna fully remembering was Very Good. Her mentioning giving away the money feels like something He would do and everyone just being silent because they Can't Bring It Up etc. I liked that a lot.

I liked Rose being explicitly transfemme but I feel they should have actually set up her being non binary earlier???? as it is it feels kind of like it's saying trans automatically equals non binary??? I do love that she saved the world by being trans though.

The metacrisis going into Rose worked really well too, good resolution to All That. I am less sure about "well we can just Let The Power Go, obviously you never thought of that because you're a man"

New TARDIS console is Perfect i love her sm

Also love Donna lampshading "going inside Just To Look means an adventure will accidentally happen"

Love the coffee thing also. Oh No an adventure is accidentally going to happen

doctordonna <3

#doctor who #the star beast

[exoticalmonde]

Arknights Chapter XIII - The Whirlpool That Is Passion (Part IV)

Wow, relishing the Logos art while also staying tuned to what happens in the chapters for REAL this time? Well, all I can say before we continue is a reminder:

WARNING: This post is going to contain a lot of yapping from me about Hoederer and how much I love him and will also have a LOT of spoilers.

This kind of reminds me of 'The Lion's Song' because there was a person there, I think, who wanted to commemorate all the soldiers' lives in paintings I think. Those who passed away in the war he'd send to their families. But I don't remember how that ended honestly...

---

Sometimes I forget their dynamic and because I don't usually use W and don't pay attention to her that much (considering she is Pinkie's crazy wife to deal with), she ends up saying something so out of the left field I get vertigo.

"GOOD NEWS THOUGH-" **Insert explosion**

W: [Hard to say. There's an old hag kind of keeping me at arm's length from their beloved 'Doctor'.]

Yes, and boy do I feel safe with her.

W.

I will learn to use the word lollapalooza unironically.

HAVE ANY OF YOU HEARD OF A WAY TO KILL A LITCH?

YEAH? IS IT BECOMING PROBLEMATIC NOW?

This is terrible to say and at the meantime gosh has it been since chapter 9 that we have been crying and suffering from litches.

13-2 Before: The Injury At Hand

...

Oh... Oh god what is that?

---

In the following story, we're in the POV of Guard who we know from a couple chapters before, but I forgot about him as a whole. Which I am sorry for, because he's turning out pretty cool. He took part in saving the Doctor from Ursus initially, but after staying behind and being a little affected by the situation and the worsening of the situation leads to the death of Ace and Scout.

Now we are reminded that he's part of Nine's gang - Reunion, or what was left of it, being picked up again after Talula... Who didn't even stay at Rhodes for long enough, she got kidnapped again and is basically being used as some type of glue for the group even though she is falling apart herself, not willing to off herself but not wanting to continue the same path she was forced to take.

We met him in chapter 7 again before Lungmen and Chernobog were about to crash.

I've also forgotten what is reunion doing here out of all places. They are putting themselves between a rock and a hard place while also saving lives... Since, apparently, Victorians are very openly against the infected and the presence of Litches, Sarkaz and originium in general is going to lead to many, many infected.

---

Not to mention having to leave their homes. I know I will lose my soul if I actually have to abandon my house for any reason. They just get what they can use, not just something they find precious that should be carried, and they have to leave. Marauders could be in any corner, you can't really take valuables, so you just have your life, some clothes, perhaps enough food until you HOPE you find somebody who can help.

---

I love the hair gel detail, why is everybody talking about this now? What does it matter if your hair looks good or not, you are half-dead 63% of the time! We all have depression and look after each other only because it's easier than to allow yourself to affect the mentality of someone else by being allowed to slack off.

---

Oh no, he has a headache. You have been assigned the Ebenholz disease.

---

Also, imagine having rock cancer and suddenly the place where you work is like 'No, you don't actually get insurance for *checks list* dying, so it would be best if you get fired and maybe go home to see your kids for like 2 days before perishing because we have NOTHING to help with.'

That's the type of health-ism we are talking about.

---

Unfortunately, Guard decided that just searching for medicine, meddling in politics, meeting people, going on operations, saving people, treating people for free most of the time, hiring operators and ALL WE ARE TRYING TO DO. Is not enough. Infected need the aggression, to put themselves out there and...

We see how different the Sarkaz and general Infected are, and both sides take different approaches with the same outcome. It's tragic and useless, and it creates even more problems that are hard to mend in the hearts of people who are afraid.

#arknights #doctor of ri shenanigans #doctor of ri #doctor arknights #arknights chapter 13 #arknights chapter update #arknights hoederer #arknights vendela #arknights verdant #arknights pulls #arknightc gacha #arknights ines #arknights w #arknights babbling #the whirlpool that is passion #eve is insane again #also a winner #arknights guard #arknights story

[tired-reader-writer]

Not me thinking about Doctor Elise's politics and worldbuilding as I reread it yet again (it's been a long while since I last read this manhwa, I only remember the broad strokes and fully conked out for the stuff after the war— but I do remember how it made me feel and lemme just say it's Not Good™) and I'm just gonna dump my thoughts randomly in bullet points:

So Brittia is an Empire

Based on the British Empire irl

(but the imperial family's surname is Romanov... siiiiiigh)

There's a France equivalent, and specifically it seems to be based on post-revolution France

Look, we all know Britain has a history of treating their colonies shittily

Brittia is also confirmed to possess colonies

Despite the author being Korean (Korea having been a victim of colonization by Imperial Japan, who also has a history of atrocities) the topic of colonies and how the imperial core treats the rest of them never comes up again

The Childe family is most likely multiethnic

Like

C'mon

Albert and Julianne (yes I'm choosing to spell her name this way), children and heirs of House Childe, have dark skin (nobody else in this manhwa does)

Their father, Marquess Childe, is a white man

?????????? Where's their mother, author?? Did Amsel de Childe marry a woman from one of the colonies???

I guess it kinda makes sense, Childe's faction is said to have massive financial influence throughout the empire and even in “foreign lands” (whether the aforementioned foreign lands refer to colonies or actual foreign countries, who knows)

How did everyone else take this marriage??

Is racism a factor in why Julianne/Yulian cannot be Linden's fiancee?

She's from an influential house, and in the 19th century (which uhhhhh judging from how Brittia has steam trains, seems to be the general ballpark of what era this was “historically” inspired from) the aristocrats intermarried with wealthy non-aristocrats as the latter's influence grew via finances, so I can't see why the same principle cannot apply here. It would've made for a powerful alliance.

(an alternative to engaging her to Linden would be to wed her to his half-brother instead— which, yeah, Mikhail and the Childe children are cousins but you should seen how fucked up royal family trees can get, that being said, let's just assume incest isn't a thing in this setting, not even for royals, so I understand how that didn't happen)

The Emperor did wrong his wife/betrothed who did a lot to support him by marrying another woman (I'll talk about how royal titles don't make sense in this manhwa but I'll get to it when my reread gets to those flashbacks) and that woman was Marquess Childe's sister, iirc, so like. C'mon who wouldn't be mad about that. Even setting aside familial bonds you don't just go and offend your allies/supporters like that. Binding the two houses again, this time with the intent that things don't go wrong, could've been a neat play of politics to smooth out any ruffled feathers.

But nope!

To move onto another topic:

Wtf why was someone from an enemy nation, one that Brittia is currently waging war against, someone who ranks up fucking high in not-France's military command chain, at the... prince's... birthday... banquet...

Ughhhhhhhhhh

The war arc was where I started to heavily dislike Linden in my past reads, so I'm... feeling some type of way rn since in my current reread that's the point I'm reaching now.

(to narratively frame an empire, a monarchy, as the good guys and a republic as the bad guys is also...)

Y'know what, I'm not gonna comment on that one.

I mean

We all know these manhwas tend to paint the monarchy/aristocracy system in rosy lenses.

I also have thoughts on the whole romance thing but as this post is about worldbuilding I'm not gonna talk about it here.

I'll be making another worldbuilding complaint post when I actually get to the war :)

#doctor elise reread #doctor elise #the royal lady with the lamp #meta #I guess #I usually don't tag my metas tho #why do I keep coming back to this manhwa...