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butchsophiewalten · 2 months

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Was waiting until ep 4 to ask but for the character opinion bingo thingymajiggy could you do bon (the spirit/evil murder robot ) if you haven't already

Oh my god, Bon. I love Bon so much. I'm so glad that I love Bon so much.

Bon, the animatronic rabbit, has over the course of the couple last years become one of my favorite characters. At this point, he's right up there with Jenny and Sophie. So when we first got that Findjackwalten "Bon" reveal, I was very... apprehensive? For me it was just really underwhelming. I honestly think my biggest complaint was just that, aesthetically, he was so much more boring than Bon, the animatronic rabbit. I love Bon. What I didn't love was this like, clip art character. He was just a guy? Like a human guy? He didn't even look fun. There was so little there to sell me on the idea of Bon as a character. It's funny, though, since I really think part of what frustrated me was that the part that made Bon an Evil Killer was divorced from him being a rabbit. Which is a really silly thing to say, but I just honestly hadn't expected there to be any 'form' of Bon that came aesthetically separate from the mystique of the rabbit animatronic. And I love rabbits, they're my favorite animals. (Well, hares are, really. But rabbits get to share the love.) So it was a very petty kind of upset.

But oh my god, seeing "Bon" in this episode has totally turned me around. Like wow, he is fun! He is aesthetically interesting! Which is why I've written that 'so relieved' point on top of the one that usually says 'wasted potential'. I'd had an idea in my mind of what "Bon" would be since we saw that "Bon" text on Findjackwalten in fucking January of 2022. That's a lot of time to stew in your thoughts. If "Bon" ended up being something I wasn't happy with, I was gonna be really disappointed. But I wasn't!

It's been really fun learning to attribute some of my favorite aspects of Bon, the killer animatronic, to "Bon", the white ghost, because they are effectively the same. I can't help but find him really cute, honestly? I love his girlish mannerisms. I love his penchant for.. Fashion? I say this remembering one of the old entries on the Martin's Secret Lair findjackwalten page. His love of music? Y'know, obviously he kills people and is evil and manipulative. But he does it cutely. Definitely the rabbit aspect is doing something to endear me.

Beyond that purely emotional endearment, I'm genuinely very interested in him as a character as well... It's a little hard to talk about, though, since my feelings are so new and so poorly thought-out, honestly. But something I've been thinking about for a while is his relationship with Rosemary... From how I see it, he seems to have a strange sort of infatuation with her. He calls her Rosie... he puts her in Sha... Less objectively, his little shrine to her in Souvenir seems very elaborate to me, at least relatively. And assuming the "Rose broken. Will fix you" dialogue is diegetic and we're meant to think that Bon spoke to Rose before killing her... Well, it's just very interesting to me that he seemed to try to explain to her what was going on. It's really fucked, honestly, and it's something I'd really like to know more about. His conversation with Susan in 4 makes me think his criteria for killing people has at least something to do with, like, whether or not he likes someone. Really really fucked and really, really interesting.

God there's really so much to say about Bon... But I'm nervous too, since I don't really know how well I can articulate what I feel. It feels a little like there's warring factions in me, between the Me that thinks the animatronic serial killer is so Silly Cutesy and Me that's really horrified by and invested in the Lore and Context behind everything that Bon, as a character and narrative force, is actually doing. Not that those feelings necessarily can't coexist. The way he talks to Susan is so unsettling to me... it's strangely tender, honestly. Like a genuine attempt for comfort, despite the context. I feel like I have a million little half-observations to make, but none of them amount to a full thought. Bon is really fucked! I'm so happy that I find him actually really cool and interesting! I want to take him clothes shopping and feed him Tchaikovsky records. Martin said he liked Classical music but I think that's. well not Wrong but inarticulate. I think he's a Romantic girl. He loves some Beethoven. Some Liszt. whjat am i even saying anymore

#ask #i have to cut this post off a littlebit shorter than I had wanted because i have real life obligations....ugh #i should get to 24/7 talk about the walten files. for a living

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artful-aries · 1 year

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Genshin Headcanons: How They Apologize (Itto, Albedo, Jean)

Itto:

Depending on what you fought about, at first, he would be too proud to apologize

The One and Oni Arataki Itto, being wrong? Fat chance

Yet as you give him the cold shoulder, he grows increasingly pouty. Why aren’t you talking to him and giving him kisses? Don’t you love him anymore? He begins to grow almost insecure the longer you draw out the punishment

It doesn’t take long of being ignored till his resolve is crumbling to dust. Depending on how mad you are, Itto might be extra and even get down on his knees as he apologizes to you

“(Y/N), my babe, my doll, my honey, my numero two, please don’t be mad at me anymore! I won’t do it again, Oni’s honor! Just please, please stop ignoring me babe. I miss being in your arms, and kissing you.”

If you don’t have the patience to ignore him for a while, or his groveling for your affection isn’t enough, you can always talk to Shinobu

Within the hour, she will have him whipped into shape with a written apology that he will read out in front of you

It would be a nice apology that addresses the issue nicely thanks to Shinobu’s advice. It’s just hard to ignore the giant whelp that Itto seems to have on the back of his head after spending an hour under Shinobu’s strict gaze

He will be super grateful that you’ve forgiven him, vowing to never make the same mistake again

Itto does surprisingly well about not repeating past offenses, the problem is that he seems to always come up with new ones

Albedo:

Arguments with him are rare and mostly one sided. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that he’s usually confused about why you are mad

It takes him a while to get around to apologizing to you

Albedo not only wants to make sure you have had plenty of time to cool off, but he also wants to make sure that he prepares an articulate apology for you

Given that he tries to plan out his apology, it comes out as a bit stiff and script like, but the small furrow of his brows and the concern in his eyes shows that he really does care about your feelings

He’s more than happy to talk about your feelings; why you got mad, where things went wrong, and how to not make the same mistakes in the future

Albedo will handle the situation in a very mature way, and make sure that you don’t confuse his stoicism for lack of feeling. He cares very much about what you think, he just has a hard time showing it

He’s very keen on making sure there is healthy communication between you two. Albedo isn’t dumb, he knows he can be a bit cold and aloof externally, and communication is the tool he uses to try and combat potential misunderstandings

When you have forgiven him, he will give you a tender kiss to your forehead, a wordless promise that he will try to do better for you in the future.

Jean:

She usually feels a lot of guilt before the argument is even over

When it’s possible, she will find a way to interrupt your ranting to apologize, and ask you to calmly talk about the issue with her

If you storm out before she gets to apologize, she’s actually very internally distraught, barely able to concentrate on her work with the Knights

As soon as the opportunity arises, she’s giving you a bouquet of dandelions to apologize

Jean will explain that she knows what upset you and why, and that she feels terrible about it

She doesn’t want you to think that just because she’s busy that she doesn’t think about the best way to resolve problems with you

Her job is super stressful and she isn’t perfect, but she appreciates your understanding

With her apology, you almost completely forget what you were even mad about to begin with; her apology is just that sincere and heartfelt. How could you stay mad at her?

Even after she’s forgiven, she will still feel a little awkward and guilty about the argument until you give her a kiss for reassurance; whether it’s on her forehead, cheek, lips, or hands, you’ll have her blushing like a schoolgirl and forgetting what she was torn up about

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin imagine #genshin impact headcanons #itto x reader #arataki itto #Arataki itto x reader #albedo #albedo x reader #Jean #Jean x reader #jean genshin impact #jean genshin x reader

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ceilidho · 2 months

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What do you see in poetry? Sorry if this is blunt, but sometimes I struggle to figure out what I'm supposed to do with poetry. Which I realize is probably illogical because poetry doesn't have to be interpreted or have meaning, or do anything. But, I don't know? You have such a wonderful collection, and I love listening to people talk about their passions (I am a sponge), so I was wondering if you'd share what you see in poetry?? What draws you to it? What it means to you?? I'm not sure. I'm sure each of these questions will take you somewhere else, but I definitely would not be upset to listen.

Okay, thanks! Love you and your writing (all of it, even the poetry I'm still trying to figure out how to appreciate)

hmmm i think something that puts a lot of people off poetry is that they feel like the language is unnecessarily complicated or obfuscating, like you need a degree or something to understand the poem's "meaning".

and while i do agree to an extent that some poems are more difficult to dig into than others (im sorry, i will never been a john ashbery fan for this exact reason) and developing the skill to appreciate good poetry does take some time and effort, like it's not an easy, instantaneous thing, i think the beauty of poetry is how it's able to use language in a roundabout way to get at and communicate very complex and nuanced parts of life/human culture.

i love reading poetry for the sheer beauty of language and seeing how it can be bent and twisted into new shapes that somehow still clearly communicate an emotion or a moment or an event. poetry is doing stuff with language that is just out of this world, like stuff you just can't get from prose. it's like quicksilver to me. sometimes something is just too hard to articulate in regular words, but you can get at the root of it by talking around it.

the pleasure of reading a really good poem is part trying to grasp the meaning and part just appreciating and enjoying the way the writer has crafted the language. and you don't have to even "get it" to love a poem - you could come back to it again and again and always take something new away from it.

i also don't think you have to force yourself to appreciate it because it doesn't happen instantaneously and sometimes it's just reading the right thing at the right time. it's like how i never got abstract art, used to actually think little of it, and then one day i came across cy twombly and i was like OH. I GET IT NOW!!!

this is my absolute favourite poem ever written like ever and still i come back to it and find something new and fresh and life changing. the first time i read this in university, i felt something in me just shift two inches to the right, like my whole world was just suddenly different.

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rayan12sworld · 3 months

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💙A Thousand Things

By:tickertape

Summary:

Wei Ying can’t find his words. “What would I do in Gusu?”

The man’s mouth quirks in what Wei Ying cannot interpret as anything but a tiny, smug smirk. “Learn.”

Wei Ying has made a fine life for himself. He’s got his jiejies and his talismans; he doesn’t need anyone’s charity. But spending a whole year in Gusu? That’s hard to turn down.

Chapter:11/11

Words:108,237

Status:completed

(Wei Ying isn't adopted by Jiangs)

...Lan Qiren has been a teacher for many years; he’s seen his share of naturally gifted students. Wei Ying, the scruffy, arrogant, waspish boy from the marketplace, is something altogether different. He watches from a distance as his nephew and Wei Ying sit together at a table in the library, discussing a text on advanced meditation techniques. Wei Ying is slovenly, completely slouched over the book, gesticulating wildly. The end of his brush is gnawed on, his fingers ink-stained. His words are rapid, too loud. His hair is a mess. Wangji is watching him like he hung the moon. Despite himself, Lan Qiren also finds his gaze gravitating repeatedly towards the bright spark that has the usual Cloud Recesses balance spinning off-kilter. There’s something about him that’s difficult to look away from. Something familiar. His smile, his laugh, and something in the way he moves his hands as he writes. It sparks something deep in Lan Qiren’s memory. It isn’t until he watches him spar that suddenly things click into clearer focus. His quicksilver motions, instinctive and foxlike. Cangse Sanren.

he will know of his parents one day; Lan Qiren could not deprive him of that. But just for this year, he wants to watch and see. He could not articulate it if he tried, but he watched his brother be destroyed by their sect’s rules and agendas. He has seen good men dig their own righteous graves, and callous men abuse the integrity of others. Wei Ying has come from nothing, as far as he or the world knows, and to go from that to bearing the weight of all that came before him is more than Lan Qiren would wish on anybody. So when Jiang Fengmian visits to discuss trade treaties, Lan Qiren does not tell him. When he marvels at their new disciple’s capabilities in the field, Lan Qiren does not tell him. When he mentions blithely over dinner that the boy seems almost familiar, Lan Qiren does not tell him. He has a sense that, no matter how much his old friend may think himself balanced and impartial, the desire to guard and guide Cangse Sanren’s son would prove too much for him. It would just lock Wei Ying in the same cage of well-intended but misplaced expectations. Lan Qiren has been a teacher for many years; he’s seen his share of naturally gifted students, and he’s seen his share of tragedies, both the preventable and the inexorable. Wei Ying, the scruffy, arrogant, remarkable boy with too many ideas and too much heart, has the potential to be something altogether different. To watch how high he can soar without a tether, if just for the moment— it might be something to behold.

~~~ wow he really didn't tell him

Wei Ying makes it all the way to Destroy the five poisons before he can’t concentrate any more. He drops his brush onto the table with a clatter, exhaling loudly. “Trouble with the precepts, Lan Zhan?” Lan Zhan freezes, his eyes still cut towards Wei Ying. He gently lowers his brush onto the stand and adjusts his sleeves. “You… seem upset.” Wei Ying fights the urge to just punch himself in the face. “I’m tired.” This just sends Lan Zhan’s brows furrowing lower. “You didn’t come to the jingshi.” “I was out.” “Are you having difficulty sleeping due to nightma—” “No.” Wei Ying jolts the table, sending his brush tumbling to the floor. “And even if I was, it’s not your job to— to make me sleep, or whatever.” He breathes out hard through his nose, aiming for ‘calm’ and probably missing by about a thousand lǐ. Lan Zhan’s properly frowning now. “Wei Ying—” “Drop it, Lan Zhan. Finish your work.” But he doesn’t return to his text. “Wei Ying, whatever is upsetting you—” Yesterday’s hurt flares up in him in a burst. Lan Zhan’s words; It’s not about his conduct. It is about him. He does not belong here. Wei Ying grips the wooden table in front of him, trying not to raise his voice. “—is my business.” He finishes for him through gritted teeth. Lan Zhan reaches for him; too close, too much, too little, and that’s the last straw. Wei Ying slaps his hand away, the smack resounding loud and sharp in the stiff silence of the library.

~~ 🫠

“Wei Ying.” Ah, there he is. Wei Ying is pretty sure he’s heard his name spoken more times today than ever before. “Lan Zhan.” He responds dryly. There’s no response for a few breaths, and Wei Ying risks a glance. Lan Zhan’s dark hair is damp, curling at the ends, and there are tiny droplets of shining water caught on his eyelashes. He really seems like a jade sculpture. Unfairly beautiful. Lan Zhan worries at his lip, and Wei Ying watches that, too. “I have upset you.” He says, finally. Wei Ying exhales, breath furling out before him like dragon smoke. He wants to be angry. There’s so much burning up in him, but...Maybe Lingxin is right. “Yeah. Yes. You have.”

Lan Zhan nods, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere in the water between them. “I... admit that I do not know what I did, or have done. But I am sorry.” Wei Ying doesn’t know what to say— how much to say. “Thanks,” feels safest. Because no matter how good the advice was, he doesn’t want to talk about it. He just wants Lan Zhan to unsay it, unfeel it. Cold, fierce tension runs through him in jitters, locking his jaw painfully tight. Wanting is pointless. Lan Zhan did say those things. No amount of misinterpretation can make that an untruth. He turns away to hide his face, which he can feel contorting with emotion. He doesn’t want to think about this any more. But then Lan Zhan’s voice comes from beside him, painfully tentative. “Was— was it our conversation at the inn? Did I misspeak about your intentions towards cultivation?” Fuck. Lan Zhan had been so gentle with him on the balcony, more than he had needed to be towards someone putting such unnecessary strain on his life. Wei Ying shakes his head, feeling the corners of his mouth wobble. The cold is beginning to feel stifling. He needs to go to bed. “Was it about coming home?” Wei Ying’s heart clenches in his chest. He whips around, furious tears welling in his eyes. “Home?” He says, voice strained. “What home, Lan Zhan? You said I didn’t belong here.” Lan Zhan looks stricken. His eyes go wide. “I—” “I heard you speaking to your brother. Wei Ying is not a Lan. He will never be one. He doesn’t belong here. I heard you.” Lan Zhan stares, mouth agape. Wei Ying can’t stop. “It’s only until the conference, Wangji! I can’t— why? It’s one thing to feel like that, but to— to—?” He flails his arms, trying to find his point. “Just tell me that you think I’m worthless, that you hate me. It would have been easier.” His words break off with a crack, and he slams a fist into the water. Icy droplets splash miserably onto his face. He sniffs, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. The night sits still and frigid and still around them. It drains the last of Wei Ying’s anger, and he sinks into himself, feeling hollow and… sad. He’s sad. Hurt. He wants things to go back to the way they were.

~~~😭😭

“You kissed me.” In a whisper, barely leaving his tongue: “We kissed.” Lan Zhan freezes, and Wei Ying can hear the way his breath catches in his chest. The way the hand resting over his tenses. Shit. Shit, he’s ruined it. He has to backtrack— “It was silly, I—” “No.” Wei Ying bites his tongue with how hard his jaw snaps shut. “Not silly.” Lan Zhan says, and it comes out a bit choked. He seems to be scrabbling for words. His Lan Zhan, scrabbling. “I— I had thought I dreamt it.” Wei Ying feels time stop. Feels his world tilt a little bit, as Lan Zhan gazes imploringly at him. “It would not have been the first time.” And then, all in one breath, like it takes everything in him: “Kissing you is all I have ever wished to do, since we first met.” The air seems to leave the room in one big rush, taking the breath from Wei Ying’s lungs with it. Lan Zhan wanted to… kiss him? Lan Zhan wanted to kiss him. Has been wanting. Just like Wei Ying has been wanting. Except longer. Longer, Wei Ying realises as he watches the tense line of his brow and mouth, the dark intensity of his golden eyes as they search his face. Lan Zhan wanted to kiss him the night of the festival. And before. “All this time?” He whispers. Lan Zhan gives the faintest nod. He’s so beautiful. Even nervous, even when he’s radiating apprehension. Lan Zhan has been wanting. He’s been staring at Wei Ying’s mouth right back. Like Wei Ying, he’s been wondering how the wine would taste shared between their tongues, how his hands would feel reaching underneath Wei Ying’s robe, touching his bared skin. Heat rushes through him; a dam bursting over shallow fields, dancing over his body in goosebumps. Wei Ying parts his lips to call out for him, but Lan Zhan is already there, barely a breath away. He’s there and his face is so close that Wei Ying can smell him. Sandalwood and cool, clean linen. And a new note; deeper, muskier.

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scarlet--wiccan · 3 months

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Do you think that Wanda’s lost her ~edge~ a bit? Like in the past she would often be talking back at people, insulting people, shouting, slamming things, breaking things etc etc especially when she was upset but it seems to me that these days she’s lost a lot of that

(And somewhat related imo she weirdly speaks like a therapist these days with her saying something about “redemption”, “healing”, “owning [her] mistakes”, “mastering [her] pain” etc etc every three seconds but then again I’ve seen that with a lot of female characters recently)

Yes and yes, to both points.

I don't think of Wanda as an especially wrathful or violent person, but she definitely has a quick temper and she doesn't pull her punches. I think we see this the most in the 80s and 90s, where she really wasn't afraid to snap at people or blow something up. The fact that her powers were still being written as generally destructive and forceful-- but not necessarily scary and dangerous, at least not all of the time-- really added to that. People's perceptions might be slightly tainted by the Darker than Scarlet storyline, where she was being mentally and emotionally manipulated to literally be more angry and, eventually, hateful. It's important to remember that her behavior in that period isn't truly reflective of her character.

Nonetheless, I do like this side of Wanda because it's something she has in common with her brother, and it stands in contrast to the image of her as a meek and somewhat repressed girl, which persisted, off-and-on, throughout the 60s and 70s. In general, I think there's a tendency for people to underestimate Wanda, and I like that she's not only more capable, but also more combative than they expect. Of course, this "fiery" attitude is definitely part of a stereotype about Romani women, but with Wanda, I think it's articulated differently, and she's usually given good reason to be that way.

Of course, she lost a lot of this edge after the Decimation. There was a period, for several years after her return, where Wanda was understandably somber, and I think that the writers who wanted her to be sympathetic were probably wary of letting her be violent. Now that all of that drama is in the past, I've noticed that she is more confident, but she also tends to be more careful and measured. That's not a bad thing, but it does lead into the "therapist speak" that you noted.

For his part, I do think Orlando finds a way for Wanda to keep that edge. We do see her lash out in some of her fights, and she gets really mad at Hexfinder in #10. She uses magical constructs and attacks in ways that feel very violent, often physical, and she gets real snippy with Bookworm. Most importantly, her convictions and empathy are actually challenged at times, and she's allowed to show doubt. There's a lot of nuance here, but with how cramped some of these issues are, it can be hard to pick up on first read.

I think Jean is in a very similar position-- these are both super powerful female character who have been through some really heavy storylines and are now matured into their most confident, competent selves. There is a tendency for those women to seem... overly empathetic and emotionally super-intelligent. They can come off as infallible in a way that doesn't really work for storytelling. Fortunately, I do think these characters are all still well-balanced, but it's an interesting pattern, especially since most of these books are not being written by women.

#character development #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch

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gffa · 1 year

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Sorry in advance if this is an incoherent ramble, but I have Thoughts about the Jedi and emotional regulation I want to share with you, if it's okay.

So I have ADHD and pretty strong emotional disregulation that I really, really struggle with. In my late teens/early twenties I was convinced that my emotions, all of them, were inherently destructive and harmful to others because of how intense they are.

My favorite Star Wars character is Anakin and I think you can guess why 😅. I don't really like admitting it but I understand him and relate to him sooo much.

Okay here's the relevant part: I love the Jedi Order's teachings about mindfulness and emotional control. So often I do feel ruled by my emotions! I can so easily see how embracing that leads to the dark side, and I know that staying in the light really is a constant battle against one's own darkness because I've done that! Without the psychic/telekinetic powers, obviously, but honestly it's a good thing I can't accidentally fling objects around the room if I get upset. I've often wished the Jedi Order was real and I could be part of it just so I could learn to better control my emotions.

It's why I just don't get the argument that Jedi "repress" their emotions. Where does that even come from? They have such sensible responses to such stressful situations. And unbridled unregulated emotion is NOT a good thing, as I know far too well. The Sith don't practice "emotional freedom" or whatever those people call it. With my disregulation problems I'm not "free," I'm even more shackled by it. I hate it and I want to control it- which is what the Jedi practice.

Anyway, just wanted to share my point of view on that whole debate. I also just want to say thanks for running this blog! I adore your meta posts and I love your unending Jedi positivity. You're definitely my favorite Star Wars blog. You're so good at articulating analyses that I can see for myself in the text but am terrible at putting into words lol. I'm sorry that your popularity attracts so many people who want to argue with you or be nasty. I hope you know how happy you make us fellow Jedi-supporters. 😊

Hi! This ask was from before today’s discussion on the Force and emotions (here and here), so it’s good timing to come across it in my drafts again! You and I are in a similar boat--I relate to Anakin the most, too. And I had a lot of years in my life without a solid grasp on my emotions, where my anger was entirely justifiable, but it was absolute misery and cost me a lot of time and relationships with people. In the moment, it felt good to lash out with that anger, but I was consumed by it, that’s all I was so much of the time, and it really, really was not good to let my emotions run rampant that way. So, I understand and I’m sorry that you’ve gone through that and I’m glad you seem like you’re in a better place now. While the Jedi may not be real, thankfully a lot of the same ideas totally are, like Buddhism is real, different kinds of therapy techniques are real, we absolutely can learn to regulate our emotions, even if it’s really hard. You could probably even do a Google search for “how to learn to regulate my emotions” and find some good starting places! I can’t speak for any part of fandom, especially one I’m not part of, but I suspect that a lot of the “Jedi repress emotions” thing comes from a conflict of how mainstream media almost always supports the idea that emotions fuel powers, that if you tap into your anger or any other intense emotion, you’ll get a major power-up and you can save the day with it. Think of almost any major display of power in a superhero movie and it’s usually because the character just had an explosion of emotion, right? Because their control on their temper finally snapped or because they suddenly became tunnel-visioned about who they needed to save. It’s everywhere. Star Wars, in contrast, says:

But we’re primed to think emotional regulation is suppression. We’re primed to think that it’s not being true to ourselves, that we’re chaining a part of ourselves up. We’re primed to think that any kind of sacrifice or concession to the greater society is suppression of the self. So, along come the Jedi who say, “Actually, emotional regulation is good. Sometimes you do have to sacrifice things to make the world better, but the selfness love for other people is worth it.” we’re primed to think they’re suppressing themselves and living half-lived lives. But that’s not true for the worldbuilding in Star Wars. Individualism is not king in Star Wars. Selflness and care for others and the willingness to understand that life is impermanent and we have to let go of things are the core themes. And you’re absolutely right--one of Lucas’ themes in Star Wars is, "Most of my movies are about the fact that you're in that little place, it's the little prison in your brain—the door's open but you can't leave. But all you have to do is walk out and say, 'Hey! I'm gonna do this.'” (Sundance Q&A, 2015) and “All of my movies are about one thing. Which is the fact that the only prison you’re in is the prison of your mind. And if you decide to open the door and get out, you can. There’s nothing stopping you.“ (American Voices, 2015) The dark side is a prison in your mind, one you’re trapping yourself into. You’re not free, your emotions are ruling you. They control you because you can’t stop yourself from screaming or lashing out or destroying things in your rage, you can’t stop from saying hurtful things to the people you care about. That’s not freedom, that’s being dragged along in the wake of your own unchecked feelings. It’s a dark pit that you have to decide to climb out of. And the Jedi echo that theme: "You said we would be trapped." "Not by the cave you were but by your mind. Lessons, you have learned. Find courage, you did. Hope, patience. Trust, confidence, and selflessness." --Yoda, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, “The Gathering”

#jedi order #meta

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bestworstcase · 1 year

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Can you elaborate on what Salem meant with the "[...]when we could replace [these humans] with what they could never be?" bit of your recent post comparing her with Ruby? Because I feel like you either didn't address that or the point sort of flew over my head. Like, what else does she mean by replacing them?

my reading of the line is “why spend our lives trying to redeem these humans [before the gods] when we could replace [the gods]”—ie her proposed alternative to fulfilling the divine mandate is rebellion.

this is something i’ve talked about a lot before (<- if you poke around in my archive you’ll find it pretty easily) but in the essentials my argumentation for this reading is:

first, that “replace the gods” has much stronger congruence with salem’s characterization than does “replace humans.” she founded her rebellion upon the idea of humankind usurping their “old masters” in order to “perfect their own design” and told ozma very directly that they could supplant the brothers. this has been her driving ambition for quite literally millions of years!

in contrast, even now, salem thinks of humanity as “strong, brave, and resourceful,” recounts the discovery of dust as proof of human “passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity,” calls the capacity for hope humanity’s greatest strength, etc. and she also doesn’t seem to value ancient magic, particularly: she spends V4-5 coaching cinder to “remember that [magic] comes with a cost,” she used dust rather than her own magic to make monstra fly, she leverages her power over the grimm expansively but we can count the number of times she’s used ancient-human-magic on one hand.

the first time ozma came back, he found her living alone in a rotting hovel with a fairly well-maintained path leading right to her doorstep. he heard frightened whispers about a witch who “commanded dark powers” and lived in the wilds, but this was also an era when faunus were hunted down and kept in cages—that’s important context to hold in mind when we evaluate where those stories about salem came from. everything we see in the lost fable suggests that salem just kind of… existed on the outermost fringes of civilization and mostly wanted to be left alone.

so, for salem to express a sudden interest in… what, genocide? some kind of fucked up breeding program using the one of their four daughters who ended up with magic neither salem nor ozma expected her to inherit at all? strikes me as startlingly out of character.

second, that grammatically the line does make sense to read as salem stumbling over her words. the verb ‘redeem’ implies a subject to whom the verb’s object is redeemed. in order for redemption to occur, there needs to be a debt owed to somebody; in this case the creditor is the gods. ozma’s mandate is to redeem humanity on behalf of the gods. reading salem’s meaning as “replace the gods” requires only that she have the implied antecedent of “redeem […] before the gods” in mind. (in much the same way that ruby clearly had jaune’s usage of the phrase “make-believe” in mind when she spat that in his face!) given her long-standing, passionate hatred of the brother gods, i find this much more plausible than not.

and third, salem is profoundly upset in this scene. she’s rattled from the second ozma says “this isn’t what she asked of me.” and while he reveals everything he’s been keeping from her—reveals that the cause she supported on his behalf for years was all secretly in service to the gods who cursed her to eternal suffering and annihilated humanity out of spite—she curls in on herself (arms tightly folded, face tense, leaning back into the desk) but hangs on his every word. she’s upset! she’s pressing it down as hard as she can, but it’s clear that this hits her hard—so it makes sense emotionally that she’s not able to articulate herself with perfect clarity in the moment. and then of course ozma just walks out without asking for clarification or giving her a chance to explain herself, so if she did misspeak it’s not as if she has the opportunity to elaborate.

and then ozma either took her literal words at face value or (i think more likely) heard what she really meant and, forced to choose between staying with her and remaining true to his mandate, chose the mandate.

#rwby v9 spoilers #<- kind of lol

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 1 year

Text

tuesday again 3/21/2023

i didn't want to sit down and write this bc i was having too much fun playing viddy gaem

listening

IT'S QUICKER AND EASIER TO EAT YOUR YOUNG!!!

"i'm starving...darling,,," is very sexy but the way the lyrics slowly slide into something more and more horrifying until the chorus hits??? mwah. lovely.

my one critique is that this song is...breathy, for lack of a better word? does not showcase the man's magnificent pipes. oh well! there are other songs.

youtube

how'd i find this: im gay, also he is one of the most popular indie artists in the World. his first album went platinum six fucking times.

reading

i read all of frank miller's sin city bc im on a noir kick and i didn't have a good time. the closest i got to fun was (deadly little, always described as "deadly little") Miho, a mute japanese??? generic asian??? assassin who is tits out not in these panels but in almost all others, rollerblading around mowing down guys with her katana. that was a painful sentence to write.

i read a lot of genre fiction. i read a lot of older genre fiction. they are not written with me, a bisexual "woman", in mind. and that’s ok bc not everything has to be written with me in mind. rarely have i read something that is more For The Boys Only!!! than frank miller’s sin city. felt kind of gross and a little put off the whole time i read these and they made me a little bit upset and afraid of men in a way i have not felt since high school. now it does feel odd to go “i didn’t think this noir was very pleasant >:(“ but miller’s work feels unpleasant and distinct from, say, chandler or hammett in a way i am still having trouble articulating. it is possible that the misogyny in chandler is a flavor i already know and barely register the taste of anymore. it may be that i got tired of looking at miller's women with twelve-inch waists and nipples as full and perky as their mouths.

mostly i think the labor market in sin city is super fucked up. women in sin city exist to have their value extracted from them in a way that is different and worse than normal capitalism. like, i can see how someone would read these comics and go full SWERF. women are literal trophies, both arm candy and in a very upsetting trophy hunting way. especially in the final volume, women are machines of potential profit. aside from one landlady and one cop and one child who grows up to be a prostitute, all the women in this whole city seem to be prostitutes or prostitutes who have married up and out. like there aren’t really even any women on the street just walking or in diners. it’s all dudes.

this is probably a comics vs novels thing, but miller is often sadistic in a way that chandler is not. a guy dies on a page to make cool art. they fuckin mow through dozens of goons a volume. if a guy dies in chandler it’s usually bc chandler's philip marlowe has stumbled across a dead body accident and it becomes a tremendous pain in order to tip off the cops that a body needs retrieving without getting framed for the kill. marlowe (and by extension chandler) is a people person-- he is a detective bc he likes figuring out what makes people tick. he is alert and it's hard to get one over on him but his resting state is congenial. despite his job, he still does believe in the concept of justice.

sin city (more of a comment than a question) says "if people piss you off you should kill them." this is not to make light of the very real Situations that protagonists in sin city find themselves, but there are very few problem solving skills on display other than "apply dick" or "apply gun". VERY RARELY, "apply pussy". that last one almost never works out tho.

aside from All That, it does contain some of the best straight up art (not just comics art) ive ever seen. the command of light and shadow is incredible. the command of negative space is incredible. panels aren’t busy unless they’re showing the chaos of a scene. he doesn't draw every single brick bc that's not important to the scene. it’s really quite stunning.

also the MOVEMENT in this fringe is incredible. do u see what i mean about the nipples tho

watching

i gotta lotta fuckin bones to pick with the manda/lorian but they're all spoilery. this shit fucking sucks man. it's twenty fucking twenty three we have had well over a century to master storytelling through the art of the moving image.

all three eps so far have felt very weirdly edited-- like a lot of changes happened after filming and there wasn't enough time for pickups?? this is a gajillion dollar show just reshoot some shit on your little fake stage i am Begging you. at least bo-katan looked hot. god she's awful i love her

again again i say to ye, what if star wars was good? i am slightly terrified that andor may have ruined me for any s/tar wars that follows but by any metric these first three s3 mando eps are simply not good television.

playing

ty @pasta-pardner for gifting me Weird West some weeks ago bc it is the new thing i am obsessed with. this first trailer gives a better sense of the Vibes than the launch trailers imo

youtube

i find it is scratching a lot of the rpg itches that new vegas does: you wander around beautiful western settings running into weird shit, followed around by a hot butch you've recruited to your cause. unlike new vegas, it is a little less forgiving and you have to really scrap and loot everything that isn't nailed down.

this is a top-down action rpg with a weird little aiming system that is sort of a 3D twinstick? it takes some getting used to, and shooting is not the part of any game i am particularly good at. here's xbox wire's screenshot, which gives a good idea of how isometric it is and what enemy detection looks like. i do wish i could expand the minimap, bc some of the locations like mines or bigger towns can really sprawl.

i have one big annoyance bc it is a thing that made me take a break and sulk for a bit: as you're traveling across the map (not open world, location-based), you can run into Travel Encounters. you can decline to engage with some of them. you cannot save within or between the encounters unless you stop and make camp. if you're on a long journey to a different corner of the map, you might run into three Travel Encounters. if you die on the third, you are catapulted back to your starting point. this is tremendously annoying in the early game, so either take short trips or get good at about-facing and exiting areas quickly.

a writer i admire likes games that let him tell stories about what happened in the game to other people-- this is a game that very much facilitates that. i was ambushed during a Travel Encounter by the some outlaws, bc i accidentally let one escape while i was trying to collect a bounty on his boss, and that specific named grunt came back with a Vendetta. but! i met a dying outlaw from the band who kidnapped my character's husband in a different second encounter, swapped some bandages for a treasure map, and he is now a Friend for Life. so he showed back up to help me during that ambush AGAINST FELLOW OUTLAWS WHO SEEM TO HAVE SOME SORT OF MEMORANDUM OF UNDERSTANDING??? mWAH. DELICIOUS. LOVE SYSTEMS INTEROPERATING.

ive put like six hours into this, and it has five chapters with five different characters. i have not progressed past the first chapter bc i am having so much fun poking around. i am so so so grateful that the first character is a wife seeking revenge and not the other way around. ppl are throwing big baby tantrums in the steam forums about this but you know what? some husbands should be macguffins sometimes. widens their perspective.

i am fascinated by the drips and drabs of lore this game is feeding me. there's an order of witches with huge underground temples that (crucially!) they did not build, but have adopted for their own uses without really understanding who built them and why. i want to know so much more about their whole shit. there are werewolves but idk what their deal is bc i haven't met any yet.

i am a simple woman! i only demand perfect cowboy western-flavored rpgs and so far this is holding up. i will have more thoughts as i go along but goddamn is it fun to play. we truly do love a competent little rpg with interesting lore and good stealth mechanics that lets you loot everything in sight.

making

mostly fallow week, wrists hurty

made this tuna-chickpea salad for lunch. it is quite rich for a lunch. there are a lot of components that may be challenging to digest all together for a milennial with tummy troubles.

this would have definitely been improved by solid instead of cheap chunk tuna (or salmon. this would be great with canned salmon) and if i actually chopped the baby spinach instead of going "it's fine" and flinging it all in. or maybe wilting the spinach, but that's a lot of extra work and this would be a very warm, wet salad :/ the point is the chickpeas really want to sink to the bottom. i like that there is no cooking involved, only assembling, but realistically i have only half of these ingredients in my house at any given time. screengrabs from the site bc i paid a dollar but there's no reason you have to

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #this is 1600 words i am so sorry nyx

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satans-helper · 2 years

Text

All For Me

Pairing: Danny Wagner x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~3900

Warnings: SMUT [fingering; oral sex; hand job; grinding; non-penetrative sex; tiny bit of power-play; smidge of dirty talking) 18+ ONLY

I received a request a while back on Wattpad for a super jealous, rougher than usual Danny. Well, I find it pretty difficult to write this sweet one in such a bad mood, so to speak, so you might have to level with me here. But he IS angry and he DOES want to get that out of his system ;)

Thank you to @ascendingtostardust for the gif (fantastic name, by the way)!

---

You could feel how much of a horrible, stupid mistake it was even in the moment but everything was moving so quickly, it was too hard to stop. You kissed Jake. In front of Danny. It wasn’t totally obscene–just a quick one, a juvenile, giddy peck, but still on the lips, and not just in front of Danny but in front of everyone. Your face immediately flushed when you pulled back in stark realization and Jake was frozen, eyes wide with shock, and the entire atmosphere around you shifted into something sluggish and heavy. It felt like it took ages just to turn and meet Danny’s eyes instead and, instead of their usual light and brightness, there was a raging, dark storm brewing. You’d never seen him so pissed off, and you were too high and a little too drunk to even react as Danny pulled you away from everyone and to his car, tearing both of you away like it was a crime scene.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Danny said once you were on the road. He’d held off on speaking at all until that point and the words came out tired. Despite the high still swirling in your head, you could tell he was going fast, the overwhelming darkness of the highway coming on suddenly as the tires spun wildly below you. “What the hell was that about?”

His words carried a shocking calm to them, contrasting to how hard he was gripping the wheel and how abruptly the car accelerated. Danny never yelled–you weren’t even sure he was capable of it–but the intentional articulation of each syllable unsettled you. Beyond that, your own actions unsettled you–being unfaithful in any way wasn’t something either you or Danny took lightly and you weren’t even sure where all of this had come from. You didn’t have feelings for Jake or anyone else–you could only blame it on the weed, alcohol and extra-close proximity to him. Everything felt exciting, or it had before all this shit went down, and that excitement had propelled you to the nearest target. Just briefly, but it was enough to rattle you and certainly make Danny upset.

“I–I’m sorry,” you said. You weren’t even sure where to look–the head and taillights of the other cars on the highway were whizzing so fast they were making you dizzy, but you hated Danny looking as he did, with his face full of obvious tension even in the dark. “I didn’t mean to, really, Danny–”

Danny interrupting you was another sure sign he was beyond mad. “Not for nothing, Y/N, but you were getting really close to Jake all night. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

That question nearly snapped you into total sobriety. “No, Danny–Jake would never do that to you. I’d never do that to you.”

Danny’s jaw tightened before he spoke again: “You already did.”

That stung, but he wasn’t wrong. “It didn’t mean anything. I didn’t even realize I was–”

“You know, this might be the first time you kissed someone else,” Danny started to say, his voice still even as he merged out of the left lane. “But this isn’t the first time you’ve–gotten like that. I always want you to have a good time but, man–” He stopped; you turned to look at him again.

“But what?” you asked, trying to flip back through snapshots of the night as best you could, going even further back into all sorts of inebriated nights as Danny slowed the car along the exit.

There was a sad bitterness when Danny told you: “You get trashed and you flirt. Like, with everyone. Everyone but me, which is pretty ironic.” At the stoplight, the red glow illuminated the hardness of his face, everything sharp angles. “It doesn’t make me feel very good.”

You bit your lip hard, not sure what to say because he wasn’t wrong yet again. You’d always been a flirt when you got a few drinks in you–that was how you’d had the confidence to make a move on Danny in the first place and thankfully, blissfully, that drunken night had led to something remarkable. You loved Danny and you didn’t really want anyone else, ever. So you told him that as the light turned green and he turned, rolling the window down so you could have some cool, fresh air over your burning face.

“How would you feel if I did that?” Danny asked, his voice raising ever so slightly. “I mean, I’ve been pretty good at kinda ignoring when you get all handsy with other people. It doesn’t matter. But Jake? That crossed a line.”

You knew it did. Your face continued to heat with shame thinking about how this could twist your friendship with Jake–with all of them–around in addition to perhaps ruining your relationship. “Don’t be mad at him.”

Danny shook his head. “I’m not.”

Dense silence lasted for the rest of the ride. You rubbed your sleeve over your mouth as if that would erase what happened; you needed water, needed a long shower. When Danny pulled into the parking lot in front of your building, you expected him to just let you go up alone but he followed you out of the car. He walked at your side, matching your pace–every buzz from the weed and alcohol felt obliterated, leaving you awkwardly sober and all-too aware of how much you’d damned yourself.

Your keys felt heavy in your hand as you unlocked the front door and made your way to your own door, the jingling too loud as the key turned and you went in first. You left Danny behind you as you kicked off your shoes and booked it to the kitchen, getting a big glass of water from the tap.

Danny still followed, leaning back on the countertop beside you, arms crossed, and sighed. “It had to be Jake of all people? Come on.”

You finished the water and set the glass down hard. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I probably fucked up that friendship forever.” You hadn’t realized how much of this sort of thing happened when you went out; Danny had every right to be mad and a sharp, splintering fear pierced through you. “Are we breaking up?”

Danny’s face turned genuinely incredulous. “What? No. Do you want to?”

“No, oh my god, no.” You brought your fingers up to your temples, trying to soothe the headache that had started to grow. “I’m sorry. This is so messed up. I wish I could take it back–all of it.”

Danny gave a little huff. “Yeah, same here.”

You looked right at him then. Quite a bit had changed in both of your lives since the first time you’d met, but the calming, gentle and genuine soul that was the very essence of Danny was still there. You knew that’d always be there, but even tolerance and forgiveness had limits. “I wouldn’t have even managed to, I don’t know, get with you without being drunk that night,” you told him. “It wasn’t random, not like all this has been–with other people, I mean. I didn’t know if you were into me at all but I thought, well, why not?”

Danny turned and lifted one hand to your cheek, stroking your skin gently. “And that worked out pretty damn well. It just hurts to see you get all flirty with other people when we go out or go to parties or whatever. It feels like, in those moments, I don’t even exist to you.”

You reached for his other hand, holding it in your own. “You always exist to me. I’m really sorry. That’s such a shitty thing to do to someone–to you.”

“It’s okay,” Danny said and even though it wasn’t, the way he said those words did make it feel like things would turn out alright. “I want you to have fun. Maybe just not that type of fun.” His hand left your cheek and slid down your side, curving gently around your hip. “Not without me, anyway.”

Just that simple touch began to pull you into his depths. You wanted to soothe him somehow. “How mad were you earlier?” you asked, pressing your whole body against him and brushing your lips against his. “Like, really? How mad?”

Danny just barely reciprocated, but then he tilted his head back and put a firm hold on your hips as if to push you away. “Pretty mad, Y/N.”

Without him actually pushing you back or pulling back more himself, you ran your hand up his thigh to the waistband of his jeans, toying with the leather belt he had taught around his hips. “I never see you get mad,” you said, daring to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “There’s gotta be so much pent-up anger in there somewhere. Unless drumming helps–” Your words were cut off by your own surprised yelp as Danny smacked your ass.

“Sometimes it does,” he agreed, then one finger was hooked through your belt loop and he was dragging you to your bedroom with very little effort. It seemed to take even less effort for him to toss you back onto the bed and climb over you, two strong thighs straddling your hips as Danny’s hair hung over your face. You barely had a second to see if there was actually any anger showing in his face before he sealed his mouth to yours, wasting no time in licking past your lips in a messy, heated sequence of kisses.

Strong, skilled fingers quickly undid your jeans and slid over your underwear; you hummed in surprise, melting into Danny’s kisses. This was all you ever really wanted–him. No one else. You managed to unbutton his shirt and feel his chest, his skin overheated, and run your fingers through the faint sprinkling of dark hair there. Danny’s own fingers began to stroke you over your underwear so lightly in comparison to the harshness of the messy makeout session that was still happening above; the gentle whispers over the thin fabric were still enough to make your hips buck.

Danny tugged a small handful of hair at the crown of your head and pulled you back. “Do you ever think about anyone else?” he questioned, his dark lashes fluttering once as he looked down at you, waiting.

You couldn’t even feel the mattress beneath you or the sheets around you. It was all Danny. The darkness of your room–neither of you had managed to get a light turned on–cloaked his usual darkness, leaving him almost as only a silhouette. The help of moonlight through the windows cast light on his face in certain angles and you looked into his eyes as best you could as you answered: “No. Never. Seriously.”

Danny sat back on your hips completely, sparing none of his weight from settling down on you. The problem wasn’t that he was too heavy, the problem was that his ass was right against your crotch and his thighs were flexing around you and you couldn’t do a thing about it. “So when you’re flirting with other people,” he started to say, tracing his fingertips down your scalp to the side of your face, then to your neck. “You’re not thinking about them? You’re still thinking about me?”

You were such an idiot sometimes. How many lines had you crossed without a care in the world for anyone else? “Okay,” you said quietly, tentatively putting your hands on Danny’s thighs. They were so hard, the denim strained over muscle, surely even harder from the tension brewing in his body. “I’m not thinking about you.” You pet your hands over his quads. “But only in those stupid moments.”

“Right.” Danny grabbed your wrists and pinned one on each side, bending over you again. He was close enough to steal a kiss from, but you didn’t dare–this was interesting. A little unnerving. But still hot, the jealousy and anger that had built up inside your boyfriend slowly trickling out in a sequence that you’d never even fantasized about before, because you had been too dense to realize what you’d even been doing.

“I wanna touch you,” you told him, attempting to break your wrists free as you also tried to rub your pelvis up against him.

“Oh, now you do?” Danny chided, not relenting his hold over you. “What changed all of the sudden?”

You successfully yanked one wrist free and immediately went for the fly of Danny’s jeans, cupping him hard, and he himself was already hard, too. “I always do,” you said, and he grunted softly and his whole body relaxed for a brief moment, but then he reached behind himself.

“Yeah?” Danny went fast again, shoving his hand down your own jeans, working his fingers past the hem of your underwear. You cursed and he just kept going, leaning back as he ignored your hand on his crotch, sliding his fingers inside you slow and deep. You just grabbed him harder in response, squeezing his cock until you worked another grunt out of him and his hips twitched on top of you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped when Danny curled his fingers and tugged lightly, then slid them even deeper than you thought he could get. Your brain couldn’t process what exactly your body was feeling, but you knew it felt damn good, and Danny looked damn fine above you. His hair was running down his slightly heaving chest, the tan skin catching a sliver of silver light and shining bright for a moment until he shifted.

“So you never think about anyone else doing this?” Danny taunted with words and another curl of his fingers, just barely pulling out to add a third. You felt too confined by your clothes and you pulled your hands away from him entirely, trying to yank your jeans down which jostled Danny on top of you in the process. He caught himself, resting on his knees at your side, and raised his eyebrows: “Desperate?”

You succeeded in getting your jeans off but before you could finish ridding yourself of your underwear, Danny hauled you up onto your knees in front of him. Before he could make another move, you went straight for his belt and broke it free, sending the leather flying away from his hips; next came the button and zipper, easy enough to undo with your eager hands. With his tented boxers breaking free, you grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down onto his back to switch positions, you taking your turn to crawl over and straddle him.

“Hey,” you said, catching Danny’s eyes in the dark while you finished unbuttoning his shirt and slipping the panes of fabric away from his body. You smoothed your hands down his abdomen and then back up to his chest, resting one palm over his heart. “It’s just you. You never have to doubt that even if I’m being an idiot.” You latched your mouth to his neck before he could reply. You knew just what Danny liked–mutual adoration and lots of slow, languid touching and kissing. He smelled so good, dark, deep and musky, and you inhaled a sharp breath as you kissed your way down the soft skin of his throat. Danny moaned quietly and kept his hands in your hair, fingers just gently tangling in the strands and silently encouraging you onward.

With your lips, tongue and teeth creating messy but loving trails down his chest and abs, you scooched down his legs and brought one hand between them, cupping once more. Completely hard, Danny was a little intimidating even after all these times, but he was never forceful or aggressive. Not even now, after you’d pushed his buttons for the last time. He laid patiently, petting your hair and shoulders, while you navigated down and down some more to finally rest between his thighs.

Except there was one thing that he’d never done before.

Danny pulled out his own dick and held it, the surprise of the sudden shift in the dynamic forcing you to lean back and watch. But then you were made to look back up as Danny’s voice slid through your ears like silk: “So if you only think about me, I think you should show me exactly what that looks like.” There was a little wobble to the words though, like he was nervous to even request that. You were nervous too, feeling like it was your first blowjob all over again and you had more than just a mouthful to contend with.

The heat between your own legs would have to wait, you knew that. You had a lot to make up for. You felt Danny’s breathing pause with one hand over his stomach as you bent down and replaced his hand with your own, wrapping it around his cock as best you could. The tip of your tongue licked slowly over half his length and that was enough to make him squirm and whimper; you hid your glee behind your fist and his dick. Even if Danny was pissed, it apparently didn’t actually take too much to appease him. Even still, he deserved something good, something messy–you drooled over the head and smeared it with your palm, starting to jerk him off steadily.

“Fuck,” Danny bit out, his hips squirming again, threatening to arch up off the bed as you wrapped your lips around him and sank down as far as you could with one breath in your lungs. “Y/N–I’m gonna–”

You popped off but kept stroking with your hand, delighting in how fast this was all happening, at how damn easy Danny was. “Already? Jeez, Danny, you must have really been pent up for a while.”

“Yeah,” Danny managed to say as he exhaled, letting his head fall back against your pillow. You kept jerking him off, pausing briefly to let more saliva dribble from your mouth onto his leaking cock, curious to see just how quickly you could get him off with just your hand. You took your other hand and brought it to yourself, slipping your fingers past the waistband of your underwear. You kept your eyes on Danny’s bare abdomen and chest as you slid two fingers through your own wetness. Danny’s cock twitched against your palm; you stifled a groan while you rubbed yourself, getting both fingers slick.

“Danny,” you said quietly, stretching up along the length of his body with that hand outstretched, the slick glistening on your fingertips as you pressed them to his lips. “No one gets me wet like you do.”

Danny lifted his head and took those fingers in his mouth without hesitation. It just made the heat below burn even hotter and you struggled not to stop stroking him just to bring yourself more relief. He kept his eyes on yours, sucking your own fluid dutifully, then sat up and pulled you into his lap. It felt so messy, all of it–Danny’s shiny lips and wild dark eyes, you sitting in his half-bare lap with your wet panties as you both panted and clawed at each other. But it felt too good already, with Danny grinding up against you and squeezing your thighs in his strong hands, to even try to move around or get anymore clothes off. So good, in fact, that you knew his thick, hard, wet cock grinding into your pussy through the damp cotton was going to get you off just as quickly.

“Fuck, you are really wet,” Danny whispered against your lips. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing and pushing you down against him even harder. You managed to snag a bite against his bottom lip, then he pulled back and brought one hand to the nape of your neck, keeping you in place from above and below. “Come for me. I wanna make sure it’s all for me.”

That drew a sharp whine from your chest; you blinked back at him, Danny’s eyes catching the moonlight again, and arched your back, angling yourself a little lower so his cock was rubbing right against your clit through your underwear. The wetness from yourself had grown from the precum leaking from him and everything felt sticky and hot–strands of his hair were sticking to his collarbones with a sheen of sweat against his breastbone, and you could feel the dampness of your own skin under his fingers at the back of your neck. Denim scratched underneath your thighs while Danny’s cock slid steadily against your center and his dark lashes fanned beneath his eyes for just a second before he found your gaze again.

“Shit–I–” you stuttered, having to close your eyes while the fiery tension raged through your stomach and down into your pelvis, even your pubic bone beneath all your soft skin seeming to tighten and force its way down even more furiously over Danny. The last few words were caught in your chest while the fire burst upwards and your chest was heaving, pulse wildly racing, head a sudden burst of smoke and fog.

Danny captured you in his arms, pulling you tight against his chest. “God, yeah,” he moaned, and with soft, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, you felt the sudden halt of his hips beneath you and the release of heat and wetness against your own.

You kissed his lips softly while you both caught your breath and tried to slide away some of the hair that was clinging to his chest and shoulders, but it just got caught on the headboard instead. “God, we’re a mess,” you said with a laugh. You planted a kiss right between his eyebrows and relaxed in his lap, both of you spent out, finally. “I really am sorry, Danny. I love you and I haven’t been good at showing it sometimes. Like, yeah, I’d be pissed if it was you with other girls.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” Danny said, running his hands down your arms to your hands, clasping them gently. “The only person who really ever flirts with me when we go out is Sam.”

You laughed loudly, throwing your head back. It felt so good to have this back–the humor, the giddiness, the adoration. Every insecurity and plucked nerve could be put to bed, not so unlike the way you were going to put Danny to bed once you both got cleaned up and maybe, probably, had a late-night snack to tie the whole night together.

“I don’t know about that,” you countered, stroking his cheek. “I’ve seen girls flirt with you. I think you’re just a little oblivious sometimes. But you never flirt back with them–just with Sam. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Danny patted your thigh. “I’m sure you have.”

You sighed. “What am I gonna tell Jake? That was so embarrassing.”

“Just tell him the truth. I believe you when you say it didn’t mean anything.” Danny chuckled softly. “You’re just like–like a moth to a flame, I guess.”

“Not a great comparison,” you said but you laughed, too. “I’ll talk to him in the morning. I just wanna talk to you tonight. Only you.”

“Same here,” Danny replied, smiling softly, the moonlight slanting over his face again. “Always.”

---

Tagging: @mountainofthesunn @bigthighsandstupidguys @dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade @kiszkawagnergvf @chestinfect-me @woman-ina-dream @itsametaphorbriansblog @karrotkate @edgeofgreta @silver--storms @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair @mintysammykiszka @camomillacatalina @mssives

#if anyone does NOT want me using their gifs just lmk #thank you all for your amazing contributions tho #danny wagner #danny gvf #greta van fleet #gvf #danny fic #gvf fic #danny wagner x reader #josh gvf #sam gvf #jake gvf #gvf smut

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 1 year

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I saw you went from militant atheist to agnostic. I'm seeking advice as a 17-year-old agnostic who is still upset with religion. I'll try to articulate it to the best of my ability.

How do you respect people's religion? I have some form of religious trauma (raised Protestant), and leaving it was very hard for me. I'm done with religion, but I was very angry for a while. I've mostly moved away from the Anger Phase, but I still, feel annoyed.

For example, when religious people oppose and demonize homosexuality (no wokeness, by the way), it annoys me. I don't think there is an objective reason why homosexuality should be seen as sinful/evil, and bringing up nature doesn't mean anything. It's frustrating that they're willing to die on that hill to please a God they can't see and to adhere to some book dogmatically.

I don't have an incentive not to hate religion. After all, the environment that I'm in (friends and school peers) has normalized it. But I'm starting to realize that it's not worth it, and I want to be indifferent to the lifestyle choices of others. How can I achieve that?

First off I'd look at the term "religious trauma" and evaluate if it's accurate. Did being raised Protestant actually traumatize you in the legit, phycological sense? Or did you just have an unpleasant upbringing because you didn't identify with or support the religion you were being taught? I don't know which it is, but one thing that everyone should learn is perspective. Not every bad thing is traumatizing. In fact, most aren't. Trauma is a very real, very serious thing. If people go around labeling non-traumatic things as traumatic, it can make you react worse to something that really isn't that bad.

But aside from all that, the best advice I can give you is you need to learn that what someone else believes has nothing to do with you. You are never going to convince the religious to give up their religion. In fact, if you try, you're just going to make them dig in further. Don't try to burden yourself with the need to "enlighten" the religious. It's pointless. And all it does is lead to frustration, anger, and hate on both sides. Some people are always going to believe things you don't believe. And as long as they aren't pushing those beliefs on you, it shouldn't effect you at all. You don't need to like those people or hang around those people. It's perfectly okay to keep them at arms length. And this goes for anyone you don't get along with. Instead of getting angry, learn to just roll your eyes internally whenever someone starts going on about things you find silly or stupid. Change the subject, or think about something else, or walk away if you can. You don't owe anybody your time or your attention, especially if they're being rude by preaching to you when you don't want to be preached to.

The thing about religion is that everyone interacts with it in a different way. Yes, some use it to bully others and justify their hatreds or their bad actions. But many more use it as a guiding light in their life. They take comfort from the idea that some all powerful being exists and loves them. They take comfort from the idea that their loved ones who have passed away are in a place of perfect happiness and are waiting for them to join them. How do we deal with our own inevitable death? A lot of people believe that something better is waiting for them on the other side. Or that we get reborn into a better live if we live well in this one. Or that we'll become part of the spirit of the Earth. Or that there's nothing after death, and some find comfort in that, too. Humans have always dealt with the unknown by telling stories and trying to understand things that don't have an easy explanation. Some of us turn to science. Some to religion. Some to philosophy. Some to other things. Some to all things. Just because someone chooses a different path towards understanding doesn't automatically make them wrong.

And if you want a scientific reason for benign agnosticism over militant atheism, in an infinite universe like the one we supposedly live in, anything that can happen will happen. Because even if something has a 0.000000000001% chance of happening, 0.000000000001% is still more than zero, and if you roll the dice an infinite number of times, eventually every result will come up, and more than once, too. If it's at all possible that a God, or Gods, exist, then they exist. Or have existed. Or will exist. What we don't know vastly outweighs what we do know. And it always will. We will never be able to explore even 1% of the observable universe. To me, that's one of the saddest things I've ever heard. I cope with that sadness by hoping that one day, humans will discover a way to break what we now call the laws of physics and learn how to build faster than light hyperdrives, or create wormholes, so we can explore more than what we think we'll be able to. I have a kind of faith that humanity will go beyond what modern science says we can achieve. Have you ever had similar beliefs that fly in the face of all accepted logic? Or do you only believe things that other people tell you is true? I really hope it's the former. And if it is, then that feeling of faith is what the religious feel about God. It's a commonality believers and non-believers have. So that can be a starting point to understanding the religious and how they think. It might even be a starting point to finding some common ground with the ones who aren't super zealous.

As for the "gay being a sin", thing, I do agree with you. Despite the sometimes abhorrent actions of the so-called "gay community", the act of being attracted to your own gender is no more inherently evil than being attracted to redheads, or blondes, or people with glasses. My logical brain tells me that any system of beliefs would reflect the times those beliefs came to be in. Back when Judaism was created, which is the foundation for Christianity and Islam, the Jews were going through hard times. I can easily see how, in a small, persecuted population that had already experienced slavery and violence by the time of Moses, the act of homosexuality would be potentially dangerous. If more men are laying with men instead of laying with women and procreating, then one day there might not be any more Jews. Especially if they keep getting killed and exiled every time they try to settle somewhere. So those Old Testament passages about homosexuality make more sense, from a secular, historical perspective, if you think of it that way. In addition to that, there have been literally thousands of religions invented since humanity has existed. They're all different. Even the ones that share a common origin are different. Just ask the Catholics and the Protestants. And we're just one species, on one planet, in a potentially infinite universe. To assume that any one single human religion has gotten everything right seems to be to not only be unrealistic, but massively hubristic. Maybe God exists, but he doesn't care who we fuck. Maybe he cares a lot, but Jesus got him to calm down about it. Maybe Apollo killed God and now the only deity that's still alive wants everyone to be gay. Who knows? We don't. And I think it's pretty silly to get upset when someone else believes something that is, in all probability, at least somewhat wrong.

I don't know of any of this helps you. But when I first got out of my militant atheist phase, thinking about things like this helped me a lot. It made me realize that I was acting just like the religious zealots I hated when I tried to push atheism on everyone and lashed out when they didn't convert. And I think that's the second best piece of advice I can give: Don't become the people you hate, or even the people you dislike. Be better than them. Or at least different. You'll be a lot happier that way. I know I am.

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padfootastic · 1 year

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Okay, so related to my ask about the only picture truly left of Sirius being the one of him laughing as he’s arrested, I have also decided that Narcissa sends him a copy of his and Bella’s arrest photos. At some point, Sirius gets an untraceable package and it consists solely of the photos of him and Bellatrix laughing as they get arrested (he can see the other 3 in the background but Bellatrix dominates her photo, just like she always has) and a note saying “I thought these photos were particularly fitting. For obvious reasons I couldn’t send them to you or Bella earlier, but I’m sure you’ll get the joke. Don’t die.” There’s no signature but Sirius recognizes Narcissa’s handwriting and he does indeed get the joke (it’s not particularly funny, but it’s “no matter how hard you try, you’ll never not be a Black. Nobody will ever see anything but our family when they look at you; you can never outrun the Black blood in your veins”). It’s also a tad cruel, as Sirius is very aware of how similar he and Bellatrix look in that picture and he’s just as aware that Narcissa would’ve been as well and wanted to make him think of it too, but the Blacks’ form of communication is about 20% jabs that everyone else would consider too cruel to ever be forgiven but they say those comments as conversation over breakfast so he’s not too upset. Sirius sends back an old newspaper scrap with the owl, making sure there’s no way to identify where he got it or track him with it, and scrawls “Thanks. You used to be a lot funnier” on it. He knows Narcissa will know this means he’s alive, he got the joke, and he’s not truly mad at her. I like to think that Sirius takes the photos with him to Grimmauld and the Order is rather confused about why he’s chosen to keep photos of him and his lunatic cousin laughing as they get arrested. I also choose to think Narcissa made a copy of the photos and she gives them to Bella when she gets out, and all three of them are aware just why Narcissa kept them and what her message is with them. For crack purposes, all the other Death Eaters have to see the photos and words cannot describe how unsettling it is to see Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange laughing madly as they’re surrounded by over a dozen Aurors; for all that they’re on opposing sides, they look near-identical in the pictures. Narcissa and Bella are the only ones who don’t find the pictures creepy (other Death Eaters have brought it up to Lucius who shrugs helplessly and rolls his eyes because he’s lost this argument 3 times and he won’t try for a fourth time so they’re on their own)

that this also lends credence to the androgyny of sirius’ appearance pleases me on a level i cannot articulate.

also the last point lmaooo i love how detailed ur stuff is bc i can imagine it happening perfectly. the look of resignation on lucius’ face, the alarm on everyone else’s, the mix of cruelty-humor that the blacks are known for (and that make them too abrasive for everyone else)

#sirius black #my theory re the abrasive blacks thing #bc i have to include j/s in everything #is that james was the only non-black who got completely used to this trait #without taking it personally and the spirit it was intended in #he never quote developed the ability to give as good as he got #bc he doesn’t have that inherent edge #but he got remarkably good at fielding them #and just. not becoming instantly uncomfortable like literally everyone else when the black siblings r bantering #and this meant the other blacks had a grudging amount of respect for him no matter how much they tried otherwise #bc anyone who can sit at a table w them and not get scared away or call the auroras has some measure of backbone #and they can appreciate that #pen’s asks #the BFCU

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mizuta · 7 months

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far from it to be my style to post about hashtag mental health issues on main but like. look. ive& been psychotic as far back as i can tangibly remember (hallucinating at 10-11, cognitive symptoms and episodes by 13-14). its been a part of my life so long that like... in a lot of ways im used to it and coping with symptoms and my life grew around a lot of the symptoms. like a tree trunk growing around a foreign object as a sapling. something that pierces directly through the middle but doesnt really impact the trees ability to stay alive in any meaningful way.

so like in a lot of ways im used to being in my own head. my partner is good at recognizing that things that are distressing to me in episodes dont process whatsoever as distressing to me a good chunk of the time. when im acting visibly distressed it actually means my level of distress is at like, 200%. its fucking unmanageable. if im visibly distressed its worse than anyone could conceptualize because typically otherwise im just numb to a lot of it or its just default my reality that its not distressing in any meaningful way until after the fact.

but like im ngl just because ive spent all of my teenage years upwards trying to take up literally the least space possible to exist and never show 80% of my "unacceptable" symptoms to 99% of people does not mean it makes it any less uncomfortable or awkward to like. be the token psychotic in some groups. to have to be the buzzkill and shit thats like hey sorry heres my hyperspecific request of the year because im fucking insane.

its miserable in a fresh new way of like sorry to have to remind everyone that its not actually a funny character quirk or joke my brain literally does not exist in your 'reality' in any meaningful way and the further outside of it i am on a given day the more unpleasant youre going to find me to be around. ignoring the insane person talking aimlessly in public doesnt actually help me it usually just reinforces that youre not real and never will be if its a bad enough day.

its never intentional. like nobody is ever doing this on purpose. especially again because i spent so much of my life being very good at hiding it. but like... it sucks so much to be masking half the time and be a little too good at it so when you stop being able to people are always levels of uncomfortable or upset. it sucks when you cant articulate anything properly and nobody really knows how to understand what youre asking for. it sucks when you have multiple severe memory conditions and cant trust your own memory and everyone immediately questions your memory when you ask for anything or point anything out. like of course im just going to fucking fold.

i dont know where im going with this or if this itself is even that coherent i know it sounds super vague but it really isnt about anyone specific im just babbling about like years worth of garbage. i got so fucked over by fakeclaiming culture because unfortunately when i started really displaying symptoms i was a teenager trying not to kill himself and being fucking insane loudly in virtual public when that was apparently an "obvious sign of exaggerating" so i had to learn to shut the fuck up and now everybody loves to forget how much im fucking unwell because god forbid you think too hard about what youre saying around others.

thank god for my partner who is literally the first person in my entire life whos ever tried to understand and genuinely knows how to talk to me when im in a particularly bad delusion or hallucinating or whatever.

man. im tired. i found out this last month i probably need to get a cane when i move out and i still feel like im going to be appropriating shit because severe knee and upper leg paint and severe balance problems cant be that bad. i hate having memory problems so bad that i so easily can be told that i dont know shit and Y is actually what happened and i usually cant actually argue against it even if im so sure thats not true.

#miles organizer #;kaz #this actually isnt really that bitter im just. talking. miserably. about psychosis.#i think i should be allowed to just be fucking insane in public and everybody should just have to deal with it and stop being uncomfortable #(thats kind of a joke im just sad.)

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elixirvitae · 1 year

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Do you think Alucard is confident enough to express/state his feelings? I say confident because to me, having the courage to show or state your feelings is very hard and shows strength, whilst other people see it as a sign of weakness... How do you think he would see it? He cried publicly once but I am not sure if he was in control of his emotions then due to how triggering his fight with Anderson was so maybe he wouldn't have otherwise? Would he tell his s/o (I say s/o because hopefully that would be as comfortable as he can get with someone) how he feels or cry when in front of them if he is upset?

I have a pretty solid vibe/understanding of this in my own headcanon/interpretation, but I struggle to articulate it clearly.

Yes, I think he is confident enough to communicate his feelings. But he doesn't feel the need to do so very often. He processes things internally and on his own, and he has for a very long time. I mean this in a way that's not exactly introversion, but he has a pretty good handle on himself and his emotions, and he doesn't frequently need to vent or have a heart to heart about feelings. Something triggers a feeling, he feels it, he acknowledges it internally, he processes it, and from there he either addresses it if he doesn't want it to happen again, or he just gets over it.

Of course, we see him have two emotional outbursts from being triggered, so his internal processor is not perfect, and it never will be.

I think this is simply a matter of not having had emotional support to rely on for so long. He had to become his own support system, even if it's a flawed system.

When he does find an S/O post capture, they might pick up that something is wrong and ask about it. He'd probably just say it wasn't a good night. If his partner asked if he wanted to talk about it, he'd genuinely and honestly say "nah don't worry about it," and proceed to work through it on his own without complaint or resentment.

A lot of partners would probably find this detached behavior unsettling or uncomfortable in any number of capacities.

Ask him once, and remind him every time he refuses that you're there if he changes his mind. Eventually, every once in a while, he'll open up about whatever it is that's bothering him if he needs help processing it.

If he has a depressive episode, he doesn't really want to talk about being sad. He just needs company while he FEELS sad. Not being alone is enough for him during these episodes.

#alucard hc #thanks for the ask!

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ananxiousman · 9 months

Text

I am angry.

And you know what?

That’s okay.

I feel stressed

I feel let down

I feel disappointed

I feel frustrated

I feel like communication is futile

I feel like my requests are too big

Or too complicated

Or not articulated well enough

I feel like my heart is expressing its needs clearly

And those needs are met with the needs of others

I feel overwhelmed

I feel unsafe when I am angry

Because I feel people who look like me have no safe spaces in which to be angry

People who look like me have hurt so many people throughout history out of anger

That it’s no longer safe

At least no longer feels accepted

For me to express anger

Even though it’s healthy sometimes

To tell a partner when you’re angry with them, and maybe the anger doesn’t make sense, but you feel it and want it to be heard

Maybe that’s anger asking me to be a friend to it

Maybe that’s anger asking me to ignore my peaceful thoughts

Maybe that’s anger tricking me into thinking anger is more okay to express than it is?

I don’t know.

Because there is little framework for people who look like me to know what healthy, acceptable anger is - and is not

Both because of my angry, hateful lookalikes

And because of the people those lookalikes have victimized

When they see someone who looks like the angry people that have hurt them, and they sense an equal measure of anger and uncertainty

People who look like me become targets for their righteous anger

They have every reason to be hurt

And so they wish to get their just-desserts

And since I am usually calm and reserved, when my anger shows, I am a target because I’m softer seeming than those that have hurt them initially

I ask

What is that softness you see?

If you paid attention to it, would you be more trusting of me?

Would you see that outside I am big and appear privileged

But inside I am insecure, tiny and downtrodden

I feel the same as you

Yet you don’t know

Because you think you understand what it means for someone who looks as big, as white, and as imposing as me to be upset

While our outward appearances change the way (some) people treat us as humans

It does not change the software and hard drive I was given

It’s the same as yours, with some minor experiential differences for ~zest~

So I ask, next time you see a large angry man, if he isn’t actively harming anyone, would you consider giving him a hug?

Consider being his open ear for a moment?

Consider asking questions about who they are and what they’ve overcome to get here?

Just some thoughts.

And please

Please don’t yell at us if we haven’t yelled at you.

Odds are, if we haven’t, we learned not to long ago and likely went a little overboard in concealing our feelings because of it.

Let’s not forget

Society equally expects and resents large men’s anger

I am often treated like I’m angry in a situation which people expect me to be

Even if I’m simply quiet and I actually feel like crying

Anytime the outside world treats someone like they understand their inside world, it has a profound impact

And so this may result in people giving us a wide berth, ignoring us, being standoffish and defensive, or simply looking confused. It’s made worse when someone asks, ‘Are you angry?’

How do you feel when someone misreads your emotions and treats you in a way that exacerbates the situation?

When this happens to someone repeatedly, it creates an emotional synesthesia of sorts

Sadness becomes - anger

Confusion becomes - anger

Frustration becomes - anger/rage

Loneliness? You guessed it, Anger.

As you might imagine, this creates some serious complications in the realm of healing and development.

So I implore you, find ways to get curious about your local Big Man’s mental health. They’re likely much softer and more loving than you pictured, and will appreciate a kind ear to confide in.

Let’s stop the anger

And spread the love

#mental health #therapy #blog #blogger #healing #meditation #psychology #self help #writers and poets #writers on tumblr

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wanderinginksplot · 2 years

Text

Clone Trooper Rambles

Clone troopers, imaginary friend style.

Warnings: vague mentions of medical stuff, self-pity.

---

History

“You know,” I started without preamble, making Rex jump a little in his spot on the couch. “I always thought I would do well living in the past.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

I waved a hand vaguely backward. “You know. If I was transported to the past, how would I do? I thought I would do well. I read a lot and I can play a few instruments. I know bits and pieces of a few languages. I’m a hard worker and I know my way around a farm or a kitchen.”

“Mmm hmm,” Rex agreed vaguely, most of his attention fixed on repairing a small hole in his kama. “You find a time machine somewhere?”

“No, I wish!” I grumbled. “Not that it would do me much good anyway. Not now that I know I wouldn’t have survived very long in the past.”

Rex glanced at me, lowering the kama. “What does that mean?”

“You were there today,” I reminded him with a frown. “You heard the doctor. I would have died four times in the past year alone if it weren’t for modern medicine. It’s just weird to think about. I don’t want kids, but all of my ancestors survived long enough to pass on their genes. I wouldn’t even have managed that.”

“And you’re… upset about that?” Rex said, clearly guessing.

I threw him an exasperated look. “Yes! It just sucks to know I couldn’t have made it on my own.”

Rex narrowed his eyes at me, kama now lying forgotten in his lap. “Did you ever think you might have been born in this time period because you would need help to treat those problems?”

“You don’t believe in fate.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” Rex said evasively. “But it sounds better than, ‘yeah, you would definitely be dead by now if you lived a hundred years ago’.”

“Yeah, that’s a bit of a bummer,” I agreed.

“So, what? You’re upset that modern medicine has saved your life?” Rex asked.

“No, I just…” I sighed. I couldn’t even articulate the thought to myself, so there was little use trying to explain it to him. But, looking at his expectant face, I decided to try anyway. “I don’t like being dependent on medicine to keep me alive or fix my problems. It’s like… I guess… It’s like I’m seeing a little bit of the end here.”

Rex frowned, but didn’t say anything, so I kept following that small trail of realization. “I know I’m going to get old and die someday, but this is an unpleasant reminder that I’m getting closer to that end all of the time. And if I’m having all of these problems before I even turn thirty… maybe I don’t have as much time as I thought I did.”

“Or maybe you have plenty of time,” he countered. “I know you have a Thing about being strong, but strength doesn’t mean that you don’t need help. Whether that help comes from medicine or other people or whatever. It doesn’t make you less strong, it’s just a little boost to make sure you can keep being strong. And if you think depending on medicine is bad, try knowing that you owe your entire existence to a lab on Kamino.”

I hummed noncommittally since that didn’t entirely make me feel better. In fact, it made me want to hit a Kaminoan.

“Think of it this way: are you gonna stop standing up for other people? Are you gonna stop working as hard as you do? Are you gonna stop trying to get better every day? No? Then this isn’t a reflection of your strength. It’s not a weakness to take care of yourself. Sometimes, moving forward feels like moving backward, but it’s just to fix things so you can move forward faster.”

I smiled despite myself. “You’ve been talking to Kix again, haven’t you?”

“He worries,” Rex told me. “He has a point, though: you have to take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean you’re fragile. It just means you’re fixing things as they come up. Does it seem like everything is coming up at once? Yeah. Kriff, yeah. I’ve never seen so much go wrong so quickly for a civvie, but you’ll get through it.”

“I will,” I agreed. That was the one thing I was ever really good at: getting through it. “And I’ll be even stronger when I come out the other side.”

“You will,” Rex confirmed with a proud smile. “And you aren’t gonna do it alone.”

I nodded and managed a small smile. That motivation would be enough to make me schedule my next appointment. I wasn’t alone - it was a good reminder.

---

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A/N - For anyone reading these chronologically, I know it seems like I'm complaining about a lot of medical stuff. It seems like that because it is like that, unfortunately. It's been an exhausting year. I do have some more cheerful stuff on the way, though!

Tags: @rexs-wife @sugarpuffsstuff @just-some-girl-92 @kimageddon @ladysongmaster @carodealmeida @nomercyforthewarrior @bitchylittleredhead @lackofhonor @buddee @salaminus @hikime @808tsuika @ladykatakuri @shawtyitsyou @bikerlorian @torchbearerkyle @frietiemeloen @justanothersadperson93 @leotatombs @rain-on-kamino @itsagrimm @dancingwiththeplanets @theclonesdeservebetter @murder-of-crows-1 @rosmariner @staycalmandhugaclone @marennial @eyecandyeoz

*I know this was the first Ramble for a lot of you. If this wasn't what you expected and you aren't interested in reading more, just let me know and I'll take you off the taglist - I will NOT be offended in the slightest!

#Clone Trooper Rambles #clone trooper rambles #ink's fics #star wars #star wars the clone wars #captain rex #rex #not crazy just creative #clone troopers deserve better #more to come

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