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#i know a lot about mental health
stil-lindigo · 2 months
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reverb in an empty hall.
prints (all proceeds go towards aid for Gaza)
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sillycathorrors · 3 months
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doing one of these cause i think it would be funny !!
If this post gets 5k notes, ill finally completely cut ties with my toxic ‘friend’ who constantly victimises herself and is honestly the most infuriating person on the planet
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darubyprincx · 8 months
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to be, or not to be (romanticization of the inevitable)
#ray's tag#keys' art#undescribed#skeletons#ok to reblog#the skeleton model that i traced for this was provided by the incredible kiku @kikunai whom you can find right here on tumblr!#so uh. This is a piece about chronic fatigue although the original idea i had for it drifted a bit as soon as I started coloring the linear#(i really enjoy shading and lighting things and got a bit carried away here but i stand by my choice because this is my favorite thing#that i've ever drawn)#anyways. i often feel especially lately with school being back in season that my bones are leaden with this sort of. weariness. theyre heav#it weighs on our mental health and energy a lot and although there's a couple of reasons we have been given for it#that doesn't remove the fact that this is still a thing that affects us in a very real way day to day although we are good at masking it.#often i come home to find that i do not have the physical mental or creative energy to work on things i really want to#especially project: nexus which i feel extra bad about even though i can't help it because i just started it so recently#it is a mild to moderate struggle to make it day to day and i just. wanted to represent this somehow#my original concept for this was a skeleton with some black goop gunk whatever leaking from its joints#but as i started adding the cracks and coloring them gold (a personal touch; kintsugi is a concept that is very dear to us)#i realized that the focus here was less on the condition itself and more on the body that it afflicts.#so i put it into a spotlight.#ironic i know since very little people acknowledge this irl or even know it exists at all but i added rim lighting. I added color gradients#I colored the lineart and made it all fancy and even added a flare for the head to get the point across that even at its core; disability i#a performance. this is not implying that disabilities are fake in fact this is the opposite of that. i wanted to show that with disabilitie#especially i think in my personal opinion the invisible ones#we are all masking at least a little bit during the vast majority of the day. humans are social creatures and it is only when we are alone#or with someone we deeply trust where we allow ourselves to be who we truly are without fear and even then that can be rare#so i wanted to show this bit of the soul in as broad a limelight as i could. idk this is a really abstract piece and i dont know if anyone#will even get it but it matters to me at least. and even though we've been largely bedridden for the past week i think that's okay#we will get it figured out. all of us. okay? okay. i love you. i fucking love you. we are going to fucking make it#(also the xes over the eyes are because i thought they looked cool they have no deeper meaning at least i think they dont#actually i think they do but i cant put it into words idk. Art is subjective assign your own meaning i'm gonna go get a shower)
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riumeri · 1 year
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thank you for the laughs, the thrills, the life lessons, and the journey!
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utilitycaster · 4 months
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I genuinely believe the fact that so many popular Imogen/Laudna fics are no-powers AU is, if not the main cause, at least a factor in why so many people resist or even are hostile towards any interpretation of Imogen that isn't largely sweet and harmless. Like, write the fic you want, but Imogen in particular is someone so fundamentally shaped by her powers that to write a no powers AU is to write what is essentially a completely original character who happens to share her name.
I think it's made even more obviously a factor because many of those fics try to reconstruct aspects of Imogen's personality by giving her anxiety or agoraphobia (or both) but the problem is that those are purely mental illnesses, rather than something that both gives her powers and penalties (again, the X-Men problem). Some real-world mental illnesses cover the symptoms of Imogen's abilities, but none cover the abilities themselves. It's quite literally a removal of agency: they take away what she can (and frequently does) do with her powers, leaving only the negative effects on her behind while eliminating the negative effects she can have on others. No wonder there's this overwhelming push to woobify her from that corner; they've utterly defanged her and are now crying that other people who can still see her fangs (and even like them) are talking about them.
And the thing is, for all I can be negative about fanon, it is, ultimately, fine - so long one can either keep it separate in one's mind from canon or else remain in a particular fanon sandbox. But unfortunately people leave the sandbox, and when other people respond to the canon Imogen, who as of episode 81 (RIP CRStats) has voluntarily used Detect Thoughts/Open Mind 60 times and has openly stated her intent to use it specifically to know what her party members are doing in advance and theoretically prevent it, the fanfic crowd is utterly unable to react to this intelligently. The idea of Imogen they have is sweet girl with severe anxiety and a goth girlfriend. The problem is this construct exists only in their favorite fanfic writers' domestic fluff modern AU no powers setting. And frankly, I'm not interested in talking about that warped mirror version of her when I could have all the fascination, complexity, glory, and agency of the real thing.
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uncanny-tranny · 10 months
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This might be controversial to some, but you cannot "tough love" your way to preventing suicide. You cannot have the attitude that people who complete suicide are selfish or are ungrateful or immature. If your mindset about suicide isn't coming from compassion rather than judgment, it won't help suicidal people. You will never help us with a slap on the wrist and a lecture about how we're awful for even thinking about completing suicide.
Suicide intervention starts with compassion and care.
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jankwritten · 2 months
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Jasico Bingo Challenge: Boyfriend Sweater
When Nico walks into the dining pavilion wearing a golden yellow sweater, Percy does a double-take. Actually, it’s a triple-take: first, he thought it was a new Apollo kid, then he realized it was Nico, then he realized it was Nico. Wearing a color. 
Is the world ending again? Was there something really wrong with the milk in his cereal? What in the everloving Hades was going on?! 
Nico sits down at table 13, unbothered as ever, and pulls the sleeves of the hoodie up. It’s way too big on him, like Big Bird shed and some poor fucker decided Nico di Angelo needed the empty muppet skin in his wardrobe. 
(Is it Nico? Maybe some changeling creature kidnapped their resident son of Hades and has decided to take his place? Maybe Percy needs to go over there and test him out, y’know, knick him with some iron or something to see if he burns. If it’s an imposter, though, they’re doing a piss-poor job. Is it an intentionally bad job? Gods, it’s barely eight AM on a Tuesday, does he seriously have to go save Nico from somewhere and kill a monster wearing his face? That does not sound like his ideal Tuesday, if he’s really real. He’ll totally do it, but he won’t like it, and maybe he should start planning how to take out a creature like-) 
“I can see the mountain you’re building,” Annabeth says, popping Percy’s strangely detailed daydream of hunting down and killing a weird, half-Nico, half-demon gremlin creature. He blinks the image out of his eyes and looks up at her, her hip resting against the edge of his table. 
She looks amused. He squints. “Nico’s been bodysnatched.” 
“Mm, no,” she says easily, with a shake of her head. “Nico’s wearing a jacket.” 
“A yellow jacket.” Percy looks at the son of Hades again. He just- can’t wrap his head around it. He hasn’t seen Nico willingly wear a color since the guy was ten years old. “A yellow jacket that’s, like, twice his size.” 
“It’s a molehill, seaweed brain. A jacket’s just a jacket.” 
“But it’s yellow.” 
“What was your nightmare about?” 
Percy physically recoils at the non sequitur, tilting back in his seat incredulously. His- what? His nightmare? What does his nightmare have to do with a jacket, anyway, that’s got nothing to do with this. 
He folds his arms on the table and makes a face. “That’s unrelated.” 
Annabeth’s mouth raise at the corners, her eyes watching him like an all-knowing hawk. An owl, three-sixty vision and nothing but questions, who, who? 
She pets through his hair and pushes her weight back up. As she draws her hand back, she taps his cheek, then his chin, and says, “just leave him alone, then.” 
Percy watches her walk back to her table. When she sits, he buries his face in his arms and groans. 
“Jason has also been bodysnatched,” Percy hisses to Annabeth during pottery class. 
“What makes you say that.” She throws her lump of clay at the pedestal in front of her and gives Percy the same look she gave him this morning. 
Percy decides to ignore that look, because that is the look of reason and he is far beyond that now. “He was wearing this black jacket with, like, skulls in hourglasses and weird skeleton butterflies and shit during Latin.” 
“He is related to Thalia, you know,” Annabeth hums. She wets her hands as the plate before her starts to spin. “Maybe he’s going through the family goth phase.” 
Had she not just leaned in to start forming something magical and incredible out of clay, Percy would slouch over Annabeth’s shoulders and plead with her to at least consider that something weird is going on. Maybe it’s not bodysnatchers or changelings, okay, but something is strange! Jason Grace does not just decide to wear emo shit! Jason Grace once had a panic attack because the Aphrodite Cabin stole a pair of his jeans and cut them into shorts! This is a man who has a stricter sense of style than Nico, who, fucking hell, don’t even get Percy started on that. The yellow jacket has remained on all day and it’s haunting him. 
Annabeth dips her thumbs into the top of her clay and does not respond. 
Percy slumps down into the stool beside hers and huffs, more for himself than anything. 
Change is okay. Change is fine. But change like this, with no reason, is the opposite of fine. Change like this is a low-blow stink bomb in an otherwise perfect Capture the Flag game, impossible to get out of his clothes and his skin and his hair. Change like this is how people die. 
He claws his hands up into his hair and listens to the steady whir of the pottery wheel, the sound of wet clay being molded and shaped in different ways. There’s a lull of conversation from other campers in the class, kids from all different cabins, because to them this is any other day. 
Maybe this should be any other day to him, too. No, not maybe. It should be. This should be a regular Tuesday, full of regular classes with his regular friends who are ordinary in whatever ways they can be, but instead, Percy’s brain has to go and mix up everything, make everything feel- out of control. 
HIs next exhale shakes too hard for his liking. His shoulders are too tense. 
Beside him, Annabeth keeps calmly shaping her pot. She dips her hands into the water every so often, probably executing some flawless plan of action she drafted the night before. She’s not always delicate with her hands, with art like this - Percy knows that’s something she’s self conscious about. She never thinks she can be good at finer things. 
That’s normal. That’s normal for her. Ordinary, to think that Annabeth Chase would tackle arts and crafts in the same way she would a war strategy, devising the perfect approach for a flawless result. Executing it flawlessly. 
She pinches too hard pulling up the walls of the pot. It crumples, then swings off the wheel entirely with the force of it’s motion, splattering wetly across Percy’s arms and the other campers at the bench. 
Percy watches Annabeth glare at her failed creation. She sticks her hands in the dirty water to scrub the clay off, wipes her hands off on her shirt, and pulls on Percy’s sleeve. 
“I hate pottery,” she mutters as they rise together. 
Percy grins. “I think it knows that,” he teases, and follows as she stomps toward the exit. 
When the answer slaps Percy in the face, it feels more like a gut punch in the way it makes him breathless and off-balance. 
“You’re…huh?” 
Annabeth clicks her tongue. “You two couldn’t think of a better way to do this?” she gestures between Nico and Jason, standing awkwardly side by side as if they don’t know what to do with themselves. 
They’re still wearing the wrong jackets. Each other’s jackets. 
Percy makes a face, then realizes that might not be the best response to his two friends telling him their dating, so he tries to make a different face. 
The world’s not ending. They’re just…together. Sharing jackets, like couples do. 
“We didn’t want to make it a big deal,” Jason says. He keeps glancing at Nico and chewing on the inside of his lip. Nico, with the golden sleeves of apparently-Jason’s-jacket pulled over his hands once more, looks stubborn. Like he’s ready to fight about something. 
Percy wipes his sweaty hands off on his shirt and gestures, though he’s not sure at what. “But Nico’s wearing a color?” 
He feels more than sees Annabeth’s disapproving glare at the side of his head. Jason draws himself up, then seems to falter. His head cocks to the side and he shakes his head. 
“What?” 
“That’s a big deal,” Percy reiterates. “Nico doesn’t wear colors.” 
“Nico is standing right here, wearing a color,” Nico grumbles. He shoves his hands into the pocket of the sweatshirt and gives Percy a glare that is far more familiar than literally anything else happening right now. “I’m allowed to wear whatever I want to wear, for the record.” 
“But you don’t!” 
“Well I do now. If you have a fucking problem with it-” 
“I never said I had a problem with it,” Percy snaps back, immediately on the defensive. “I was fucking worried about you, you little shit, I thought something was wrong. I thought- I don’t know what I thought! I thought you two were swapped with some other versions of yourself, I thought you’d been- I don’t know- abducted by aliens, or fairies, or something!” He throws his hands up in the air, then drops them back onto his head, staring sort of at the middle point between the two of them. “You can’t do that shit and not expect- I mean, because, come on, guys, you’re you, you two fucking freak out if someone so much as touches your clothes. What were we supposed to think?” 
The hearth crackles. It’s too pleasant a sound for the sick Percy feels. 
Annabeth takes his hand, at least, and squeezes. His face burns with the shame of yelling like this, over this, it just feels so fucking stupid all of a sudden. He feels so stupid. Annabeth tried to tell him it was nothing, and he let it all get away with him, he let that nasty part of his brain win and win and win, and now he’s taking his losses out on them. 
“I’m happy for you two,” he makes himself say, when no one else speaks. “I think I just also need therapy.” 
Finally, Annabeth snorts. It’s a noise Percy knows, one he can ground himself with, same as her palm hot in his, her weight tilting into his side as her head bonks into his chin. 
The stress he’d held bundled up in his spine and his shoulders and his stomach all day releases in an instant. He slouches back in against her and laughs against the top of her head. 
“Jesus Christ,” Nico mutters, when Percy can’t stop himself, dissolving into a fit of hysterics over his own bullshit. “This is why I said we should just tell them. He’s laughing at us.” 
“I think he’s laughing at himself,” Jason says. He sounds uncertain. 
Percy hugs Annabeth tight, and laughs himself hoarse. 
EXTRA 
Nico stares at himself in Jason’s mirror, with the sweater hanging halfway down his thighs, sleeves hanging off his hands, the peak of his collarbone through the freaking collar. He narrows his gaze into a glare. 
“I look like a toddler,” he says derisively. 
Jason, still getting dressed himself, laughs. When he appears in the mirror behind Nico, looking far more proportional in Nico’s sweatshirt (which is frankly fucking unfair), his grin softens into a smile that’s- something. Sweet. 
Nico twitches his nose.  
“I look like I’m six years old,” he says, grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt and yanking down. “Why are we doing this.” 
“‘Cause it’s silly,” Jason says. He presses a kiss against the side of Nico’s head and hugs him loosely from behind. “You don’t look like a baby, either. You just look your age.” 
Nico looks down at himself. Maybe there’s a point there, a point to be made about how he dresses for practicality, dresses to blend in, but never to express himself. Maybe there’s a point to be made about how his discomfort isn’t really for how he feels about this, but how he thinks others will feel about it. 
He tugs at the hem again, and looks back up. Jason’s eyes in the mirror are bright, as if taking in the sight of Nico in his hoodie like this is something to savor. 
Nico likes when Jason looks at him like that. He likes how it feels to be looked at like he’s attractive. He likes how it feels to be wanted. 
“I guess,” Nico concedes, leaning further back into Jason’s chest. Immediately, Jason’s stance is more solid, sturdy, holding them both up as easy as breathing. He holds Nico like it’s a promise that he’ll never let go. 
He looks at the pair of them in the mirror, a cohesive unit rather than two separate halves. Jason in black is definitely something Nico wants to see more of, especially with the way Nico’s clothes fit snug over him, just a little tight at the biceps and chest. He looks good, not that he doesn’t look good otherwise. Different. 
With Nico his contrast in yellow…maybe it isn’t so bad. Maybe he likes being the counterbalance, even. 
Jason squeezes him again. Those damn eyes in the mirror are making Nico too warm, like his stomach is full of hot jell-o. 
“Okay, fine, let’s do this,” he huffs. The difference in his tone must be audible, though, because Jason perks up and grins, his eyebrows up, face aglow. Nico can’t look at him for too long. It’s still strange knowing he can make someone feel like that. He doesn’t know what to do when Jason turns the full puppy-love thing on. “And stop looking at me like that, you’re going to give me cavities.” 
“Okay,” Jason says in a voice identical to his expression. 
Nico grabs his hand and squeezes it twice. 
Jason squeezes back, so tight it aches. Nico’s heart swells with bright affection. 
Alright. Maybe yellow isn’t so bad, actually. 
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aroaessidhe · 7 months
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2023 reads
The Deep Sky
scifi mystery thriller
on a deep space mission traveling from an environmentally devastated earth with hope to restart humanity elsewhere
when they’re halfway, an explosion kills 3 crew and pushes them off course
the only witness is the Alternate who has no specific role, and she has to figure out who caused it & if they might continue to sabotage, while they're figuring out a way to get back on course with limited resources
flips between present and the past: of her childhood and training for the mission, her identity struggles, and relationship with her mother
questions the ethics of ‘restarting’ humanity elsewhere vs putting resources into fixing earth
#the deep sky#yume kitasei#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#i really loved this!!!!!#very intense but also a lot of interesting character introspection#love the virtual reality AI aspect!!!! though I do feel like. in the end I was expecting it to go way further with it?#(basically like instead of seeing the inside of the ship all the time they can 'be' in forests or aquariums or whatever)#no romance#(there’s side lesbians; and one flashback scene where she briefly wonders about kissing a random person; that's it)#emotional core about her mother and brother and best friend !!#i like that it gets into the flaws of 'humanity's last hope on another planet' bc like. yeah in real life things....don't work like that...#why is there zero acknowledgement that the concept of every one of them being expected to give birth being extremely fucked up?#like obviously everyone on board is there because they agreed with that but there’s not a single flashback of#when they found out that information; or mention of someone questioning it...#(for example a character mentions that they hid their mental health/use of a therapy animal bc they wouldn't have been let in and the -#eugenics around that is iffy to say the least)#but to me. pregnancy is horrifying and nobody questioning that was weird.#also there’s supposedly 80 people on board but we get to know less than 10 of them which felt a bit strange at points#Also! I love the cover. I can’t find the designer (the book info only credits the internal lllustrator..)#also: bird facts!
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bleue-flora · 1 month
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Yo! Just noticed it’s the anniversary of when I finished my second fanfic Dreamcatcher, which is the work I actually started to lean into writing fanfiction (since my first work I really just wrote for myself before being encouraged to share it).
So, in honor of that, here is some of the original second nightmare which was actually written from Dream’s pov before I ended up changing it to Punz’s.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Referenced Torture, Blood, Death, Injuries, Profanity.
Dream is wet and panting, in a puddle of watery red flowing into an equally crimson pond to his side, where the non diluted liquid gets thicker.
There’s white fur stuck in it as the body of a dog, slashed to bits lies there next to him. Both sitting in the despairing silence of the box.
Tears form in the corners of his eyes and his vision gets blurry, but he doesn’t let them fall. He just exhales.
Why does everything die around him? Why does everything he dare to care a smidge about get taken from him?
As if to follow his thoughts, the white turns to black. The fluffy bloodied dog shifts into a cat that’s long since stopped breathing. Dream turns his head, and faintly smirks at the sight of the additional body sprawled out on the floor next to him.
He mutters to the corpse under his breath, rolling his eyes, “To be fair, you were being a bitch. Like don’t blame me, you know you d—deserved it… I mean I lasted like—how long before beating your head in? That’s pretty impressive—pretty fucking impressive, you know.”
Tommy’s unmoving body doesn’t respond, just stays there, unmoving and uncharacteristically quiet. His face swollen and bruised, not unlike the innocent cat he beat to death.
Then his body evaporates and Dream finds himself in a new room, accented with black walls and bedrock. It’s detail is perfectly ominous like he wanted.
He’s kneeling, unguarded by armor with an audience of people surrounding him. His heart beats rapidly threatening to burst out of his chest at the danger. But he ignores it.
Indignant, Tommy rips off the mask that always covers his face. Exposing his pale skin to the cool air and the venomously judging faces.
Despite the frustration at his denial of privacy, he doesn’t so much as dignify it with a flinch. It was expected. He was ready. He’s not about to show weakness in front of a crowd.
They are silent as the axe lands, and lands again before lady death finally embraces him.
They are silent as the sword finds its place in his chest and he falls to the ground, bleeding out into the cold stone beneath him.
It’s ok. He knew this would happen. It was expected, it was planned. He didn’t know they’d kill him twice, but it’s fine.
On one life, he makes his way back down with sharp pain running through his veins. Somehow it seems duller than the pain in the prison cell, though it can’t have been less excruciating.
Tommy once again stands above him savagely firing arrows away. As they pierce his flesh and bone, he searches the cold faces around him and listens intently, hoping to hear one sound of objection to his approaching final death.
Surely, someone will say something, right? Surely, someone will oppose his final death, right? Surely, they woundn’t let Tommy kill him off in cold blood. Would they?
But there’s nothing from them. Absolutely nothing. Standing there, dripping in blood, he feels his heart entirely disintegrate into nothing. Leaving only a hollow emptiness in its wake.
Then suddenly he’s freezing from more than just death and despondency. He’s surrounded by ice. Their pillars, tall and sharp, casting the land in a pointed terrain. Despite the bone chilling air and his frozen insides, he stands, planted to the ground, looking at a sign pinned to the glacier. The wood marking the death of his parrot that travelled so far only to die there.
A deep sigh is released from his lungs and the scene smears into broad strokes of colors. Until a well known bleak room encases him in lava and obsidian again.
Sitting there with nothing but the annoying sounds of the prison to keep him company, he wonders if he’s always destined to lose everything. Was it always going to end up like this? Was he always going to end up alone?
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whoblewboobear · 17 days
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Foaming at the mouth and going feral waiting for Fig to open up more to her parents and friends 🤧 I rmr all through middle school and high school holding everything in and being unsure about myself and putting on a tough mask with walls so high because I wanted to hide and not exist and just.. 🤧 having friends that were patient and loving and understanding even if they didn’t know my whole deal was life changing. I just wanna wrap Fig up in a big hug and tell her that she doesn’t need to have it all figured out, but that she’s still wanted and appreciated for all the qualities and facets that she exudes regardless of if she can lay all those things out and understand them. Despite it all, who she is and who she will become: She is loved. She is wanted. She should exist.
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lord-squiggletits · 2 months
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Speaking of Tyrest. A lot of people forget that he treated Pharma with absolute disdain, not only using him as a test subject for a clearly painful mass murder machine, but talking to Pharma like he saw him as nothing but some henchman to order around that was nothing more than a 'diseased cripple' if Tyrest hadn't come to rescue him.
Like it really is an interesting background dynamic with some curious implications, but when you look at fandom posts from around that issue/the years after, for some reason people just saw "Pharma worked with Tyrest" and concluded Pharma is a card carrying bigot ksjfnskxkd. Like yeah Pharma didn't do anything to stop Tyrest but it seems his main beef with the Autobots was with Ratchet in particular and maybe a general disdain for his ex-comrades. As well as continuing to hate Decepticons which like, not even the "good Autobots" are immune to (even in Pharma's introduction, First Aid says in his journal something like "yeah we all hate Decepticons, but Pharma REALLY hates them"). And despite what fandom likes to construe there's really no evidence in IDW1 that Autobots and Decepticons are different "races" or "types" of Cybertronians, so Pharma hating Decepticons really isn't a bigotry/robot racism thing. And instead probably has something to do with, idk, the 4 million year long galaxy-spanning blood feud war, or maybe being blackmailed and tortured into insanity by the Biggest and Most Decepticon-y of Decepticons.
Tyrest treated Pharma like trash, the other Decepticons working for Tyrest (how come no one ever brings that up btw) also hated him, so if anything it seems that Pharma was more of a rogue element only staying with Tyrest bc he was his best option and probably had no way to even escape.
I'm glad that at least in recent years the fandom has acquired a keen reading eye and good taste to finally recognize Pharma as the (accidentally) complex character he is instead of making him some posh, racist Starscream clone SHSJDGSGDH
#squiggposting#pharma apologism#yeah i'm apologisting again i guess my mental health is somewhat okay again dkdkkxckkddkd#(my followers seeing me post about pharma) nature is healing#there's also that line where pharma says 'maybe i can help' and skids is like#'fuck off and hope we don't beat you to death after this is over'#they didnt know that pharma was a test subject of the killswitch but wow#that's prolly one of the most out of pocket moments of the story that ive never seen anyone mention#honestly that moment is why i think JRO didnt intend pharma to be That Deep#i feel like that sort of 'not even other autobots like him' treatment is something#that comes up a lot in JRO's villain writing. or like asshole behavior towards some characters#is just plot events proceeding as usual. nothing to see just villains getting their due#tho tbh pharma's character in general suffers from the problem that he's so closely related to a main/major characyer#that it wouldve made way more sense for him to be written in earlier#so all his connections w/ ratchet and the plot had to be established retroactively#also speaking of 'asshole behavior excused bc it's towards a villain'#all those times when people are like (fucking amazing piece of medical research by pharma)#'then he started murdering his patients. what a piece of shit'#like idk it could have been intentional but imo all my readings of pharma were not really intended by JRO#and i'm fully just headcanoning and constructing theories on my own#like pharma was simply not important enough or a major enough character to get fleshed ojt#so basically we get enough pieces of him to establish continuity and a general timeline of his life and thats all
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finexbright · 1 year
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#oooooh time for another controversial opinion#i get that babygate frustrates us and just puts us off and all that i get that i was there when it happened i'm still here i feel the same#but can we all just think. for once. that it's possible that it's harder for louis than it is for us?#like. we can ignore it and talk shit about but it's actually his fucking reality#and yeah he's rich and white and privileged but also like. this has so much to do about his mental health than all that#i get us being frustrated but i truly don't understand people getting entitled???? like you can't just end it with a click of a button#there's SO MUCH entangled in this#people act like louis CHOSE this like louis WANTED this and it's like. you're diminishing his brain and intellect to that#ending babygate will lead to a cascading domino effect of a lot of things. like it'll be the industry's biggest exposé#so yeah i just think that louis' doing his best and maneuvering it in ways that he thinks is wise#like you can't just be like ''so i'm not the father. also i'm gay. also fuck syco. fuck the industry'' without it literally shifting the#entire industry. like the entire band will be affected. even harry#so can we all just. for one second sit back and realise that LOUIS is the one who's actually dealing with this and we're just WATCHING it?#like this isn't our reality this isn't our life we don't know anything and can we at least give louis a bit more credit#than the rubbish narrative that ''he wants this'' like fuck's sake#babygate
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boysareouttonight · 9 months
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idk how many people talked about the scene of dennis turning the heart into a diamond but that was one of the most fascinating parts of the episode in my opinion. i don't think it's a coincidence that it was a diamond specifically. diamonds are often a symbolism of perfection, invincibility, ethereal beauty and health. all of these being things that dennis is obsessed about. when he's touching the man's heart he seems to be at peace for just a moment and then his facial expression drastically changes before he tears the heart out, turns it into a diamond and eats it. you could say the heart represents what he really craves (listen to your heart playing in the background too) and him turning it into a diamond and eating it is an allusion of him taking back control and putting inside him every aspect of his life that he needs to be in control of, how he ultimately is always gonna go back to hiding his vulnerability. we also have the beach in the bg, with the water representing rebirth, cleanse, change. the detour of him going to the beach house but not actually going into the water is dennis restricting himself from what he really wants.
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aro-culture-is · 11 months
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quick note - this blog is gonna be sparse again for at least this week. trying new medications and tbh initial side effects are not super pleasant + actual effects build up. as a result: currently as if unmedicated for mental health, with anxiety+ side effect, extra fatigue, dizziness, and fatigue. it's uh, sure something.
totally recognize that most of y'all know we're absent at times due to health things, just wanted to give a heads up that this one is at least anticipated.
#fun fact sometimes condensing meds just means poorer treatment of some conditions#this is a re-expansion + new thing#so that instead of poorly treating my mental health and using an unusually high dose SNRI for another (physical) condition#i will hopefully both be in less pain AND not depressed af AND also have an appetite again#i doubt i will be lucky and not have a fucked stomach due to meds but one can hope that an appetite will allow me to eat foods that upset#my stomach a lot less#my health is forever a massive balancing act#every time a medical thing is like 'so what meds do u take' i'm like here i wrote it down for u#and they're like 'oh. ooookay. let me just...' *five minutes of typing and clicking later*#'so! what did you come in for again? uhuh. you said you experience pain daily? with your chronic pain thing? hm. have you tried yoga?'#/gen#like. straight up every time i say 'i am in pain all the time due to fibromyalgia' they are like 'ooh studies say regular exercise helps'#and like. theoretically yes! but also. i would be lying if i said the fibromyalgia studies i've skimmed don't set off general 'bad science'#alarm bells in my brain#like... cool you performed a fibromyalgia study with... all male lab rats? mhmm? so are you aware fibromyalgia appears to occur#overwhelmingly in women? like. data seems to suggest between 70-85%?#(not that the data can't still indicate things but it certainly makes male rats a poor choice of model for tests on it)#also just... idk i've looked at some metaanalysis and been like 'okay cool theory and for all i know about human bio or bio in general that#sounds more or less correct BUT. you never discussed that one study on this subject that did NOT support your conclusion.#and that's 1) interesting when it was the most diverse group of subjects and the exceptions often teach just as much as the 'rule'#2) just shitty science. tell me how your theory is still credible when some evidence doesn't fit the model.#like... 'given that all other studies were primarily conducted on white american women in their 30s to 40s it is possible that this model#only explains (the early effects of fibro since that's a typical onset period) / (a possible genetic link primarily found in white women) /#(a possible sign of bias in diagnosis that demonstrates the possibility that there are different causes) / combinations of all of those#like... idk a paper that just throws out things that don't support it is a pretty big red flag#it doesn't mean the conclusion is entirely incorrect but it is often important to understand the context in which it applies#like... it's very easy to jump to an incorrect conclusion if you used something in the wrong context#ie: thumbs up is a good job / positive thing in a lot of western civilizations. teenage kee once went to china and discovered it to be#neutral to offensive in many areas outside of major tourist locations that were used to it#anyways i gotta sleep
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nilesmoon · 2 months
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this shot of sawashiro is simply breathtaking to me!!!
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like. seeing him crash and burn after hearing that his son has never trusted him, realizing that the chance he took by sending a tip geomijul didn't pay off, that the "miracle" he asked for is too late (just like he is). It truly is something to watch!!
to me, this really is the scene to show how incredibly miserable this asshole is and the cherry on top is how the way he sits is the exact same pose the corpse next to him has got.
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uncanny-tranny · 4 months
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At some point, you have to concede that the abuse wasn't your fault - that there was no action you could have taken to have prevented it, and that it wasn't your fault.
I used to try finding the magic things that would stop the abuse - gifts, kind words, tears, smiles, pretending I didn't exist - and that was because I first and foremost saw the abuse as my fault. It was my responsibility to end the abuse, otherwise, I am somehow proving to the skies above that this is what I wanted from life. I've noticed that for some people, this is a common impulse. It's the victim-blaming internalized and molded in such a way that feels true, and it's hard sometimes to notice it.
What I want to do is, at the very least, remind you (if this resonates) that it isn't your fault. But you don't need to blame yourself for this, either, because you never deserved this in the first place. This isn't "atonement," this isn't right, this isn't cosmic justice. I can't tell you how to leave this situation, but I will say that you deserve to know that you don't deserve this, that you aren't an irredeemable monster who is being punished, as I've seen some people (including myself) believing about our abuse.
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