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ase-trollplays · 8 months

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The Time For Reconciliation

Corali drove through the unfamiliar forest on her bright red ATV, her thoughts frantically bouncing around like bumper cars in her head and she tried to formulate exactly what her next move was going to be. It'd been more than two months since she and Thiomi last spoke, and she was still going strong with her sobriety as spite for her former friend strengthened her resolve to stay alcohol free.

She was now three months sober and feeling better than ever physically, but mentally and emotionally there were a lot of unresolved issues that desperately needed to be aired out. She'd never been to Thiomi's hive before and had to fight her kismesis (almost literally) to make him give her the coordinates. However, he didn't elaborate any further than that, so when the coordinates brought her to an empty clearing beneath a small cliff, a rush of anger came over her.

"God damn sonuva bitch. There ain't nothin' here!" Corali fumed and kicked her bike in frustration. She should have known he wouldn't give her the actual coordinates. "I'ma give that jackass a piece a my mind an' a boot so far up his ass he'll be tastin'--"

"Corali??"

The rust woman whirled around to see none other than Thiomi herself atop her enormous mouse lusus. She looked at her with wide eyes as she climbed down, though she didn't make any moves to approach her. Corali sighed and ran a hand through her hair before stuffing both hands into her pockets.

"I'm ready ta talk now."

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"I'm glad to hear you're s-still s-sober," Thiomi said with a forced smile as she took a sip of her tea. Corali sat across from her at the table and drank from a glass of water since Thiomi didn't keep soda or coffee on hand, and she didn't feel like having milk. "I was worried."

"Yeh, well, y'ain't the sole source a my resolve ta stay clean. I can handle myself. If anythin', I did even better after ya went an' made it all about you," Corali spat. Thiomi visibly sink into her chair a little, and Corali looked away from her as though not being able to see that she upset her would rid of her of sudden pang of guilt at upsetting her.

The two sat in uncomfortable silence as they sipped their respective drinks and tried to ignore the tension. After two minutes, Corali couldn't stand it anymore and opened her mouth to say something, but Thiomi managed to beat her to the punch and break the silence first.

"Has Darius--"

"No. Kiddo still ain't talkin' ta me," she interrupted. Thiomi nodded with a disappointed "Mm," and the silence resumed. This time it only took thirty seconds before Corali started going insane from the discomfort of neither of them talking or even looking at each other. She downed the rest of her water and stood up to refill her glass.

"Ya got a nice l'il hive. 'S real cozy. Buildin' it underground was a smart idea; y'ain't gotta worry about undead or folks breakin' in if they don't know where it is. Even if they find it, they'd get lost in the tunnels."

"Thank you. The tunnels are all Mom's doing, really. S-she likes digging and burrowing."

"Heh, so's my pa, but he don't got nothin' this extensive. Least, I don't think he does."

With her water replenished, Corali took her seat across from Thiomi, and silence resumed once more. This was getting ridiculous now. Of course, Corali knew why this kept happening. The elephant in the room had been obvious from the moment they saw each other outside.

Unacceptable. If Thiomi was going to stubbornly ignore it, then Corali decided she was going to be the one to finally address it because these constant silences were bordering on painful. She slammed a metal hand on the table, startling both Thiomi and her lusus (Who'd been sleeping until now).

"Okay, enough a this shit. We gotta talk about two months ago cuz I'm not about ta sit here in silence fer another gotdang minute," she declared and looked Thiomi directly in the eyes. Thiomi glanced downward and, with a sigh, looked back at her guest with forlorn eyes.

"... Yeah, I guess we s-should," she said and took a deep inhale. "I'm s-sorry. I s-should have taken a s-step back when I realized my feelings for Mareth were resurfacing," Thiomi apologized, though Corali's gaze remained hard. "Instead, I treated you like her replacement and used your s-struggle to make myself feel better about how things ended with her, and that was... it was an awful thing to do to a friend."

Thiomi pauses to sniffle and wipe away translucent green tears forming on her eyes. Corali felt a little bad seeing her start to cry, but still being hurt herself, she found her sympathy lacking.

"Yeh, that was a real rotten thing ya did. D'ya have the slightest idea how shitty that feels? I ain't a win ta put under yer belt or a replacement fer a failed quadrant. I was damn near fightin' fer my fuckin' life. This sober shit's one a the hardest things I ever done, an' I was weak an' strugglin' ta keep goin', an' y'all fuckin' took advantage a me. Ya say it didn't start that way, but when ya knew that's where it was goin', ya shoulda just told me! Ya shoulda told me an' fucked off until ya got yer shit back tagether!"

By the time Corali was done venting, Thiomi was reduced to silent tears and crying. She choked out a pitiful "I'm sorry," and part of her took a vindictive joy in seeing how upset she was. However, the pleasure was quick to fade, and she groaned and gritted her teeth as the next words came out of her mouth.

"But I fergive ya."

Thiomi looked at her in complete disbelief as tears continued to fall. She struggled to find words to voice her shock for several moments before finally managing to utter a single "W... what?"

"What y'all did was prolly one a the shittiest things anyone's ever done ta me in my life, but... I fergive ya. I'd be a hypocrite not ta. I mean, I hauled off an' assaulted my son over a bottle a beer, an' I been desperate fer him ta fergive me. How am I s'posed ta expect him ta fergive a big mistake when I won't even fergive a big mistake?"

Thiomi wiped away more tears threatening to fall and took a deep breath as she looked at Corali with relief mixed in with her sadness and regret. She smiled at her, and Corali gave her a small smile in return.

"Right, so now it's done. No more stewin' over that shit. Ya said yer sorry, an' I fergave ya. Problem solved, arright?" Corali stated and held out her hand. Thiomi sniffled as she slowly and gingerly reached across the table to take her hand. Corali grabbed her hand tightly and gave it a firm, hard shake. "Good."

The silence that followed was much less agonizing this time around and didn't last nearly as long as they drank their drinks and resumed chatting like old friends. After about an hour of talking and catching up, Corali allowed the conversation to drop off. The tension crept back again as she considered her next words.

"I wasn't just stoppin' by ta get the bullshit squared away," she stated with an uncharacteristic wavering in her voice. Thiomi stared at her in confusion, then worry. Corali ran a hand through her hair and bit her lip. She couldn't bring herself to look Thiomi in the face and turned her head to the side to stare at the wall. Although she couldn't see her, she could feel Thiomi's eyes on her staring in apprehension.

"I met someone recently while I was huntin'. She gave me a place ta lick my wounds an' get a l'il settled, an' we got ta talkin'. I was ventin' ta her an she, ah... she made me realize somethin'. Somethin' kinda important," Corali said as her face flushed the lightest shade of red. She prided herself on being direct and never beating around the bush when she had something to say, but now her boldness was failing her. Just do it! Treat it like a bandaid and rip it off! she told herself and took the deepest breath she could before looking back at Thiomi.

"I-I'm pale fer ya," she finally managed to spit out. Thiomi gaped at her with a hand modestly covering her mouth, and Corali immediately regret confessing to her. The silence was absolutely deafening, and it was making her anxiety flare up. She could feel herself becoming angry at the lack of a response after she put herself out there and let herself be vulnerable. She clenched one of her fists for a few seconds before unclenching it and swallowing her anxiety.

"Well? Ya gonna say somethin'?"

More silence. It was getting harder to contain her anxiety; she could practically feel the yellows of her eyes changing. Thankfully, before she had a chance to say "Fuck it" and storm out in shame, Thiomi finally spoke.

"I'm s-sorry, I just... I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm flattered, really," she started, and Corali's heart sank like a lead balloon. She knew a rejection when she heard one. It was probably for the best. Hell, she fully expected to be shot down, but that didn't take the sting off at all. She put up a hand to silence any further speech and stood up.

"Y'ain't gotta say nothin' else. I just needed ta get it out there cuz not sayin' nothin' was drivin' me nuts."

"Corali, wait--"

She turned and started walking back toward the hive's entrance, and she could hear the legs of Thiomi's chair drag across the ground as she stood up and followed her.

"Please, just let me--"

"Nah, nah, it's fine. I get it. Ya don't feel the same. 'S alright, no big deal."

"But I do feel the s-same!"

Now it was Corali's turn to stare wide-eyed as she stopped within inches of exiting the doorway and turned around to face her. Thiomi stared back at her with a frown on her lips, and they stayed locked in eye contact before Corali furrowed her brow and crossed her arms incredulously.

"Bullshit," Corali said as Thiomi fussed with her hair and bit her lip anxiously while averting her gaze. "Yer gon' hafta fergive me fer bein' more'n a l'il skeptical considerin' what happened a couple perigees back an' why."

"I know. Believe me, I know," she answered with a pained sigh. She looked up at Corali and prepared to crumple under a judgmental stare, but there wasn't one to be found. She was, in fact, glaring at her, but there was very little malice behind it. If anything, it was closer to a look of concern than anger.

"You're a lot like Mareth, maybe too much like her. I don't have any doubts that I'm pale for you. ... But I'm also s-still in mourning, and I don't know for s-sure if my feelings are genuine or because I'm s-still grieving. I want to give us a try, but not if it's for the wrong reason," Thiomi explained solemnly. Corali's expression eased, and she nodded sadly.

"Ya mentioned yer seein' a therapist now, right? Yer gonna get better eventually, an' I still got a good number a sweeps left in me, so why don't we just wait?" Corali suggested with a shrug and the smallest hint of a smile. Thiomi's frown not only persisted, but deepened as well.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Yer not askin'. I'm offerin'."

"I don't know how long it'll take for me to move on."

"I ain't in no rush."

"What if you meet someone else you'd rather be diamonds with?"

"What if I don't?"

"Corali, please. I'm not someone worth waiting for. I've already hurt you before."

"An' I fergave ya, so it ain't a issue anymore. I'll be the one ta decide if waitin' ain't worth it, so quit makin' excuses. If it don't work out, then oh well. Least we tried."

"But..." Thiomi struggled to find the words to say to convince Corali to change her mind. However, she couldn't come up with anything she was sure the rust blood wouldn't immediately find some sort of counter to. "I don't deserve you. ... But I can't really stop you, can I?"

Corali placed a hand on Thiomi's head, earning a surprised squeak from her, and gave her hair a gentle ruffle. "Nope, ya can't. We both know what a stubborn shithead I am. Just ask yer matesprit."

Thiomi sighed and smiled at that, and Corali retracted her hand.

"S-so how long do you plan on waiting?" Thiomi asked, and Corali placed her hand on her chin in a thinking pose

"I'm willin' ta wait fer as long as it takes, but since ya wanna put a time limit on it, how about 'til my suspension from my job is up in a l'il under half a sweep. That should be plenty a time fer that therapist a yers ta getcha sorted," she said. Of course, she fully intended to keep waiting beyond that deadline if need be assuming nothing happened to change her feelings. "Whaddya say, we got a deal?"

Corali once again held her hand out to her, and Thiomi smiled and took hold much more confidently than she did previously.

"It's a deal."

#things to read #Corali Primer #Thiomi Shiaka #The Weight of Our Sins #this is a long one folks #You can also consider this the official reveal of #Roll With The Punches #I finished editing and writing it at work #bc I was too impatient and excited to wait until I got home #i was going to wait until the eleventh to post this #but I got impatient

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thetomorrowshow · 2 years

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poisoned rats in a pot of grain - ch. 10

Masterlist - Previous - Next

ok i know i said last chapter was the penultimate one but i lied this is actually the penultimate one jsdhfj

cw: brief psych ward setting, mentioned past suicide attempts, panic attacks, non-graphic flashbacks

“I’m glad you’re here, Major, because he’s not doing well.”

Scott nods, fidgets with his mask. It’s strange, being out as Major in jeans and a t-shirt, but full superhero getup had seemed inappropriate for a psych ward. “I’m just glad he’s agreed to see me.”

The man—Josh, not just someone random, but Solidarity’s therapist—gives him a tired smile. “He’s gotten better, but this just isn’t the right environment for his recovery. We’re doing all we can.”

“I understand.”

He frowns, and Scott can tell that he doesn’t think Scott does understand. And maybe he’s right. Scott hasn’t seen Solidarity in almost a month. He doesn’t know anything about him.

They’ve been given special allowances to meet privately, for anonymity purposes. Without much further discussion, Josh leads him out of his office and into what appears to be a vacant residential room, a card table and two folding chairs set up beside the bunk.

When Scott enters, Solidarity is already in the room. He looks up, and Scott can’t help but swallow back a wave of nausea at his appearance.

There are deep purple bruises ringing his dull eyes, set into a waxy, thin face. His hair is at an awkward length, too short to pull back but too long to let lie without styling, which clearly isn’t an option here. He fidgets with the sleeve of the grey hoodie that almost swallows his emaciated frame. He’s not wearing a mask—again intended to help with anonymity—and he seems self-conscious about that, hand going up to pull at nothing every once in a while.

Scott doesn’t know what he’d expected—someone who looked less like a corpse, he supposes. Someone who was doing poorly, as Josh had said, but better than this.

Scott sits down opposite him at the card table as Josh eases the door shut behind him. It’s just him and Solidarity, and Scott occupies himself with the table for a few moments to stall whatever type of conversation he has to have. There’s very little on the table—what looks like a protein shake in a styrofoam cup, a couple of sheets of looseleaf paper with colored markers. The papers are all blank. Nothing that would usually grab his attention for very long.

There’s no more putting it off. Scott’s not sure what’s going to happen—if Solidarity will be calm and coherent, or if he’ll scream so terribly like he did when Xornoth died, echoing the fight that still haunts Scott’s nightmares.

“Hi,” Scott greets eventually, settling in and brushing his hair behind his ear. Solidarity’s eyes follow the movement. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

Solidarity doesn’t move.

It’s slightly disconcerting to not get a response, but Scott forges on. “Your therapist told me you haven’t been doing well. Do you want to tell me about that?”

Solidarity stares at him blankly. Scott waits.

He sort of wishes that they’d warned him about how he would behave.

“It’s okay if not. You don’t have to answer any questions you’re uncomfortable with. Are they treating you well? Feeding you enough?”

Solidarity’s eyes are still dead, but his lips twist into a wry imitation of a smile as he gestures to the protein drink. Finally, a response of some sort. Scott picks up the cup, waits for Solidarity’s nod before bringing the beige mixture to his nose to sniff.

“Yuck,” he grimaces. “They expect you to drink this stuff?”

Solidarity clears his throat, mutters something.

“Sorry?”

He says it again, barely louder. “Not exactly fine dining.”

Scott can’t help it—he laughs. He laughs probably harder and longer than necessary, trailing off with a conspiratorial, “When I bust you out of here, we’ll stop at McDonald’s or something. Get a burger and fries.”

Solidarity freezes. Looks up at him. Looks him in the eyes. “Out?”

He hadn’t meant to say that immediately. He was supposed to ease it into the conversation, wait until Solidarity was somewhat comfortable before bringing it up. No hope of that now.

“Yeah,” he says. “Like I said, they told me you aren’t doing great here. Your therapist said he thinks you’ll do better outside of this environment. So I offered to be the supervision or whatever you need for a while. If that’s okay with you.”

Solidarity doesn’t answer, but unlike his blank stare from a moment earlier, he’s clearly thinking. After a minute, he absently uncaps a blue colored marker and scribbles a couple of words onto the paper, the position of his arm blocking Scott from being able to see it.

“What would that look like?”

It’s a good question. A smart question, and just him asking that is giving Scott hope for improvement. He takes a moment himself to gather his thoughts—he’s been considering this for about a week now, officially—though his first thoughts of bringing Solidarity into his home (for protection then rather than recuperation) had occurred approximately a year ago.

“You’d live in my house,” Scott tells him, shifting a bit in his seat. Solidarity nods, writes something else. “There wouldn’t be someone constantly watching you, and your bedroom would actually have a lock. You’d be free to go about the house as you liked, but I would have to ask that if you wanted to go someplace outside, you would let me accompany you.”

He has no clue what Solidarity is thinking. He has to take a breath to remind himself that just because he isn’t talking doesn’t mean he isn’t listening. Maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t know what’s going on in his head.

“You would continue with therapy and whatever medications they’ve prescribed you since being here, of course. We would shift you to a new therapist—probably mine, for secrecy type stuff. Otherwise, we would try to get you back into a normal lifestyle, get you to a place where you feel comfortable and safe living on your own again.”

Solidarity writes on his paper, caps the blue marker, and reaches for a red one instead. He writes a bit more, crosses something out. He looks up suddenly, gaze piercing.

“I don’t—I don’t cause accidents, anymore,” he says, and the hand not holding the red marker seems to unconsciously drift to rub at the back of his neck. “They—I can control it, now. They fixed that.”

Scott highly doubts that anything was fixed by Xornoth ever, but he nods to show Solidarity that he understands. “What does that mean for you?”

Solidarity shifts uncomfortably. “I feel safer, I guess. Being around people. And places.” He writes something down, twiddles the marker between his fingers. “How soon?”

“Until we would hypothetically leave?”

A short nod.

“I think they told me they need about four days to get your discharge stuff worked out,” answers Scott. He leans forward. “They also told me it would be really nice if you could speak up during a group therapy session, but that it’s okay if you don’t feel ready for that yet.”

Solidarity’s eyes narrow. “If I talk during group, can they make it three days?”

Oh. He actually . . . wants to go with Scott. Either Solidarity’s opinion of him is quite a lot higher than Scott had assumed, or he really hates this place.

“I can ask them about it. There’s one more condition to you coming home with me, though.”

Quicker than quick, Solidarity’s expression becomes guarded. He sets down the marker, stares down at his paper.

Scott smiles as gently as he can manage. “I need you to sign a medical release form—meaning that I get to see your records. It won’t tell me anything that you’ve talked about in therapy,” he’s quick to add, “it’ll just give me your diagnoses, medical history, and give your doctors permission to talk to me about concerns. Is that all right?”

Another long pause, but Scott’s beginning to be okay with it. If this is how Solidarity communicates, then he can get used to giving him time to think. Solidarity picks up the marker again, writes one more word, then clicks the cap on.

“That’s fine,” he says, and Scott’s heart leaps. He finally can help him in a way that matters. He can finally start to repay him for all that Xornoth did.

Solidarity stands, quite suddenly, and steps away toward the door. “Remember to ask about the group thing,” he tells Scott quietly, and then he’s gone.

Scott sits for several more seconds, then stands as well. On Solidarity’s paper, in blue and red marker, are random, disconnected words and fragmented sentences, surrounded by absent little squiggles.

Anxious. Person. Leaving? I have autonomy. Outside sources. I have autonomy. Nervous, but okay. No panic attack. Hopeful.

Hopeful. Scott thinks he’s pretty hopeful, too.

Scott’s hand shakes when he dials the number scribbled onto Solidarity’s—Jimmy, his name is Jimmy, he’d heard it once a month ago and now he has permission to use it—discharge papers. Jimmy’s in the shower, door locked, and Scott has no plans to interrupt him.

When a vaguely familiar voice answers, it’s barely a moment before Scott starts speaking.

“It’s Major. You said I could call with any questions?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

“His papers.” Scott’s still holding the one that bothers him, the one that nobody had mentioned to him. “It says—it says four suicide attempts. Wh—can I know—why did no one—?”

A long sigh from Josh on the other end. “Look, as his therapist I’m not allowed to say much. But all of those attempts occurred when he was still in the hospital recovering, before we moved him to the inpatient mental health unit. TJ expressed to me that he didn’t know what was happening and that he finds hospitals incredibly distressing. My evaluations found him to not be a danger to himself at the moment.”

The knot in Scott’s chest loosens slightly at the words. “So he’s not on any sort of watch?”

“Nothing like that. You can ask him about it, I’m sure he would be honest.”

Scott ends the conversation after a few more unnecessary questions, then places all of the papers back into a neat pile on the dining room table.

It’s weird having Jimmy living here. It’s only been a few days, but Scott hasn’t had a roommate in a long time.

Not that he and Jimmy interact much. Jimmy stays in his room more often than not, but a ground rule Scott had laid down requires him to eat at least one meal a day with Scott—just to make sure he’s eating. Scott always tries to cook, or else get take-out, to try and get Jimmy into the habit of enjoying food. He makes sure to label in the fridge or cabinets if there’s anything he’s planning a meal for, but otherwise Jimmy knows that food is up for grabs at all times of the day. Scott thinks he eats relatively frequently. It’s hard to tell—again, it’s only been a few days.

He’s still rattled by the words on the highly confidential paper—four attempts—so he shifts his attention to cooking. Vegetarian lasagna, he’s thinking—sweet potatoes and spinach and a white sauce with noodles and cheese. That sounds fine.

The shower shuts off while Scott is layering the ingredients. That’s good; he can ask Jimmy about his diagnoses while the lasagna cooks.

A phone call from yesterday nags at his mind, and Scott knows he needs to talk to Jimmy about that as well.

When Jimmy enters the kitchen ten minutes later, hair toweled dry and clothes slightly sticking to him, Scott smiles the best he can.

“Hi, Jimmy! I’m making lasagna for dinner. Feel up to joining me?”

Jimmy’s eyes dart around Scott’s head, looking anywhere but at him directly. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he says eventually. He carefully, quietly pulls out a chair at the dining table and perches on the edge of it, as if uncertain of his welcome.

Scott knows the moment he notices the papers, because his idle fidgeting ceases. Jimmy goes oddly still, looks down at his knees. Scott shoots him several glances, trying to discern what emotion his face is displaying.

Maybe he’s nervous. “I thought it might be helpful to go over your papers quickly, if that’s all right,” Scott tells him, foiling the top of the lasagna and putting the whole pan in the oven. He sets the timer for twenty minutes and pulls up his own seat at the table, shuffles through the papers for a moment. Jimmy doesn’t move, which Scott takes as an affirmative answer.

“First off, it lists your medications. It looks like you’re on an anti-anxiety and an antidepressant, as well as a couple of vitamin supplements. Have you been taking those as instructed?”

A nod.

“Good. Any bad side effects?”

“Nothing I’ve noticed,” Jimmy says. Scott almost pumps his fist. It’s only been two days, yet those are probably the most words Jimmy’s spoken strung together.

“Great.” Scott sets aside the prescription sheet. “Let me know when you get down to about three days left, yeah? Then we can go pick up the prescription—wait, Paxil?” He looks closer at the medication names, some strange feeling bubbling up within him. “I take Paxil, too, that’s hilarious.”

That catches Jimmy’s attention, and finally his eyes leave his lap. “You—er, you take antidepressants?”

“Have since I was a teenager.” His own dose is lower than Jimmy’s, but it’s funny in some strange way. It’s a bonding moment. “That’s so weird, I love that. We can get our prescriptions at the same time!”

For the first time that Scott thinks he’s ever seen, Jimmy smiles. It’s a small smile, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and it vanishes quickly, but to Scott it’s the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. In a totally normal, platonic way. And in a totally normal, platonic way, he wants to see that smile again.

“Right. So according to this, you’re diagnosed with. . . .” Scott finds the right paper, reads it off: “PTSD, anxiety, depression, selective mutism, and possible BPD. Does that sound about right?”

Jimmy snorts. “Yeah, apparently ‘tortured and forced to be a psychotic maniac’s pet’ isn’t in the DSM-5, so that cocktail is what’s wrong with me.”

Scott blinks. He’s—how is he—?

Almost without his input, his mouth drops into a horrified O shape and his hands shoot up to cover it, eyes wide. “Jimmy—”

“That was a joke!” Jimmy says quickly, hands coming up defensively—but Scott can see that he’s starting to smile again. “Sorry. It’s easier to cope sometimes if I joke. I can stop.”

Scott opens his mouth to reassure him, but what comes out instead is incredulous laughter. He cuts it off quickly, still totally shaken by what Jimmy’s just said. “No, please joke,” Scott says. “It’s—it was a good joke, it was just—I shouldn’t have laughed, it was a really inappropriate thing for me to laugh at.” He takes a moment to compose himself. “But seriously, if you ever need someone to talk to—and I need to get you an appointment with Nora, she’s a great therapist—but other than that, I’m here. You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m willing to listen and help any way I can.”

Jimmy shrugs, but Scott thinks it’s a positive shrug. Then, as if bracing himself, he speaks. “I’m quiet sometimes. That’s the mutism thing. Yeah. Um, I have panic attacks a lot, and flashbacks. And both at once. That’s—I think that’s all that’s important for you to know right now.”

That’s entirely fair, and a lot more than Scott had expected to get. Scott turns to the next page, the one that details Jimmy’s stay in the emergency room. . . .

He turns that page as well. He hasn’t noticed any concerning behavior. If it comes up, he’ll ask Jimmy about it. For now, he’ll trust what he’s been told.

“Any allergies?”

Jimmy shrugs again. “Not that I know of. You?”

That takes Scott aback. This isn’t—what is this, speed-dating? He’s supposed to be asking the questions!

If it makes Jimmy feel less like he’s being interrogated, though. . . .

“Almonds,” Scott says, then amends, “it’s not exactly an allergy yet, though. More of a sensitivity. Anything you won’t eat?”

Again, Jimmy shrugs. Scott thinks he’d best get used to this form of communication. “Not a huge fan of peanut butter sandwiches. To be fair, I’ve not really had much for the better part of a year, so I’ll eat anything.”

“Great, because I’ve got a vegetarian lasagna in the oven right now and it would be awkward if you weren’t gonna eat spinach. Is Nutella good in the realm of sandwiches, or would you prefer lunch meat?”

Another almost-smile, but this one Jimmy covers by looking away. “Whatever you prefer. I’m not picky, I swear.”

That about wraps up Scott’s questions, all but one. The one that’s been on his mind since he received the phone call yesterday evening.

“Jimmy,” he starts, pulling all the papers together and pushing them to the side, “I got a call yesterday. From Lizzie.”

He notices the way Jimmy flinches, the guilt that suddenly lines his face. He wants to ask what happened between them, how they got separated in the first place. That’s none of his business, though. “She wants to meet with you, if you feel up to that. She says it’s okay if not, but she reassured me that if you agreed to meet, there would be no murder.”

And he’d asked. Several times.

“She just wants to talk. That’s what she told me. If you agreed, she would come here alone some day next week. The two of you would talk in the nice living room. I would be present if you want me to, but otherwise just somewhere else in the house. Would that be okay?”

Jimmy’s quiet for a long moment. Long enough that Scott starts to wonder if he should check on the lasagna. Agonizingly slowly, he asks,

“Do I have to?”

“Not at all,” Scott responds instantly. “I can tell her you don’t want to, it’s not a problem.”

Jimmy’s shoulders slump, and Scott realizes just how scared he’d been in those few minutes. “I need to,” he explains, voice trembling, “but . . . I will, I promise, it’s just so hard. I owe it to her, but my head is too messed up right now.”

“You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I owe Lizzie this,” Jimmy says firmly. “You don’t know what happened, you don’t get to pass judgment on it. But she deserves to hear it right, and I don’t—I don’t think I can yet. Can you tell her that?”

Scott smiles. “Of course.” he doesn’t quite understand, but he knows (of course he knows, how could he not) that Jimmy is going through a lot in his head. He isn’t necessarily privy to any of it. Nora had told him only last week that it’s possible Jimmy is fighting his own brain just to wear clothes, speak, or even move. Jimmy’s right. It’s not up to him to pass judgment. All he can do is have compassion.

The lasagna beeps and Scott hops up. And if he accidentally frosts over the counter in his excitement when Jimmy asks about how he made the lasagna, nobody needs to know.

Jimmy stays in his room more often than not. It’s not until one day, close to a month into his stay, that Scott realizes all he does in there is stare at the wall.

If he thinks about that for too long, Scott wants to throw up.

So he makes more of an effort to invite him out of the room. The suggestion that seems to actually entice him is the in-home gym, so Scott shows Jimmy how to use the equipment in there and monitors his work-outs. He’d called Jimmy’s primary physician to clear exercise, and she’d said that as long as he started out with only half an hour, three times a week, he’d be fine to build up naturally as his body recovered.

Jimmy seems frustrated by the restriction, but follows it anyway. And every time the timer goes off, he silently packs up whatever he’d been doing and waits at the door with his head bowed. Scott doesn’t know why, but it makes him uncomfortable. Every time he does that, Scott opens the door and calls him by his name when asking him what he wants to snack on. He’s not sure if it helps.

With the gym bringing Jimmy out of his room more and more frequently, Scott starts to just do things around the house in the hopes he’ll join in. One afternoon he rearranges the entire kitchen, and Jimmy sorts through all of the silverware to see which pieces had come from matching sets. He puts on movies and makes a far-too-large bowl of popcorn every other day (and eventually, Jimmy starts slinking in and curling up on the couch a good two feet away from Scott). He washes dishes and asks Jimmy to dry, or vice versa. And slowly, Jimmy begins to warm up to him.

He’s not cured. It’s the worst feeling in the world when Scott’s chatting idly with him, dusting the nice living room, and suddenly Jimmy’s on the floor with his head in his arms, crying silently.Scott never knows what to do in those moments. He usually ends up waiting it out, asking every so often if Jimmy knows he’s okay. He makes a mental note to himself to learn how to better help when someone has flashbacks or panic attacks.

His current methods don’t seem to be too bad, though, because even with those road bumps Jimmy seems healthier. His skin isn’t so pale anymore, his eyes a bit brighter, his jokes less cautious and comments less careful.

As he learns more about his personality and who he really is, Scott has to admit it to himself: when Jimmy isn’t trying to kill you (or vice versa), the man is . . . endearing.

(He's more than endearing, he’s downright cute, but Scott can’t let himself think that because Jimmy’s not okay with any of that.)

Scott thinks his favorite moment in the first month is when Jimmy scares himself using the garbage disposal.

“It’s—why would you have one of these in your sink?” he demands, pointing at the drain accusingly. “It tried to take my fingers off, all because I flipped a switch I thought would turn on the light—”

“Your hand wasn’t anywhere near it—”

“It’s dangerous,” Jimmy says stubbornly. “Like I’m ever going to wash dishes again.”

“Did you not have one before this?”

Jimmy throws his hands up. “How am I supposed to know? None of my kitchen appliances ever worked!”

Scott almost asks about what life was like before Jimmy’s powers, but cuts himself off. He doesn’t know anything about the man’s past—anything more than apparently Lizzie is his long-lost sister—and he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. But he laughs it off, and Jimmy, after a moment, laughs as well.

His laugh is a little scratchy, very quiet. It’s almost as if he’s not sure how to laugh, like he doesn’t remember the last time he did.

With a surge of protectiveness, Scott vows to do nothing ever to hurt Jimmy. He refuses to make Jimmy feel like he can’t do something as human as laugh. He will never make him feel unsafe, even if it costs him everything.

Scott breaks that vow the very next day.

It’s a no-words day for Jimmy, which have occurred often enough to set a precedent. Scott doesn’t press him to speak, accepts when Jimmy turns down the offer to accompany him to the grocery store, and goes about the day like nothing is different. That goes as normal.

The problem occurs when that night, as they both finish eating dinner, Scott calls for Elle to get some food that he’d dropped.

“Come over here, darling!” he says, accompanied with a click of his tongue, and before he knows what’s happening Jimmy’s pushed his chair back and has fallen to his knees beside Scott.

For a moment, Scott doesn’t react. He’s not sure how he could.

Then Jimmy rests his head on Scott’s lap, and Scott knows what’s happened—he sees it again in his head, Xornoth waiting at the end of a ballroom with the Canary beside him on the floor just like this—

When Scott moves, he moves in disgust and panic.

He shoves Jimmy away, off of him, scrambles back. He’s not sure what happened—but Jimmy had moved so stiffly, so automatically, and the careful tensing of his jaw in his otherwise perfectly blank face tells Scott that he’s in a flashback.

Jimmy stays where Scott had pushed him, head bowed slightly, hands loosely clasped in front of him. “‘M sorry,” Jimmy whispers, voice quavering.

No. No no no no no. He’s gone about this all wrong, hasn’t he? He’s made it worse, he’s scared Jimmy—he’s hurt Jimmy—

He needs to keep a clear head, but Scott’s hands are shaking and he can’t get his brain to form words right. He’s neglected to do any research on how to help with these since the last one he’d witnessed, about a week prior.

“Jimmy?” he manages eventually. Jimmy doesn’t respond. “It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re not with them anymore. Do you—do you know where you are?”

His instinct is to sweep Jimmy into a hug, but he can’t do that. Not without permission. Not when he’s already in a flashback.

Scott doesn’t know the details of what happened while under Xornoth’s control. All he knows is that Jimmy was kept against his will and trained to act like a pet. Since living with him, Scott’s picked up on some other things—complete subservience, medical malpractice, and some kind of punishments that Jimmy only whispers of in the deepest throes of panic.

Now, Scott asks the only thing he can think to ask. “What can I do to help you feel safe?”

Jimmy blinks. “Scott?” he asks after a moment, the word small and terrified.

He could cry in relief. “Yeah, it’s me,” he says, sliding to the floor beside Jimmy. The man’s position hasn’t changed, still stiff and holding form. “I think you’re having a flashback.” Jimmy’s had several, probably more than Scott knows, yet each time he’s absolutely blindsided. What is he supposed to do? All he remembers from therapy when he was having a panic attack is how to do breathing exercises, but this is something entirely different.

Maybe it could still work?

“Jimmy, can you follow my breathing? I’m gonna count, okay?”

He runs through the breathing exercise seven times before Jimmy’s face starts to relax. It helps Scott, too, helps him center himself back in the situation.

“What can I do to help?” he asks again, and after a moment, Jimmy whispers a question.

“Sing? Maybe?”

And there’s no way Scott can say no. He stalls for a moment, trying to find something in his repertoire that isn’t Disney or showtunes—curse his gayness—but there’s nothing else in his brain right now so he just hopes that this isn’t a secret camera show and goes with a classic.

“Some day, my prince will come . . .

Some day we’ll meet again—

And away to his castle we’ll go,

To be happy forever I know. . . .

Some day, when spring is here . . .

We’ll—um, Idon’tknowthewords—”

Jimmy laughs, and his shoulders ease as he leans back on his hands and untucks his legs from under him. “Thanks,” he mutters, grimaces.

Scott’s not sure if he has the right to ask what that face means. Instead, he offers a smile. “Anytime. Really, if it helps, I’m happy to sing.”

It’s a habit of Jimmy’s to rub the back of his neck, and when he does his hand lingers on a scar there, one of the only scars Scott’s seen on him (he’s certain there’s more, but Jimmy only wears long sleeves and long pants, thereby hiding any marks from Scott’s view). There’s a strange look on his face, almost contemplative, as he regards Scott.

Jimmy doesn’t speak, so Scott assumes that he’s still a little thrown from the flashback and moves to stand, ready to help Jimmy up from the floor. As he’s supporting him, though, Jimmy opens his mouth.

“They never sang, or anything,” he says, voice terribly vulnerable and shaky. “Only classical music. If—I remember thinking if I had to hear Danse Macabre one more time I’d go insane.”

Scott chuckles at the joke, grunts when Jimmy’s left leg slips out from under him. They both halt for a moment, Jimmy hissing curses under his breath as he tries to steady himself.

“Anyway, heard you singing the other day,” Jimmy continues once they’ve made it to the living room sofa. “I was having a bit of a rough time in my room, and you were singing, and . . . it helped. To remind me that I’m not there.”

There’s a feeling in Scott’s chest, something squeezing at his heart and making it leap into his throat. As he sits next to him on the sofa and Jimmy leans lightly against him, he decides he’s just particularly protective of Jimmy and learning new ways he can help makes him want to do his best.

Exactly three minutes and twenty-two seconds later, Scott has to revise that.

He has a crush on Jimmy.

He can’t have a crush on Jimmy. It just—he can’t like him. After all, it was an accident caused by Jimmy that killed Aeor.

But that excuse feels flimsier and flimsier as the days pass and Scott becomes more and more enamoured with Jimmy. He’s just—he’s—

Well, for one thing, he’s really funny. He’s the funniest person Scott’s ever met, from remarking drily after burning toast well, it’s not like the toaster’s ever made it this far so I think this is an improvement; to eyeing the TV through slitted eyes like a wary cat after admitting he doesn’t trust it not to explode.

For another, he’s so strong. Maybe not physically, at the moment—although Scott’s been hard-pressed to keep Jimmy from overworking himself in the home gym—but Scott’s never met a more driven individual. Despite everything he’s been through, Jimmy keeps getting up in the morning. He shoulders flashbacks and panic attacks like they’re nothing, eats meals with Scott even when he clearly feels uncomfortable about the food, and fights daily to even remember who and where he is. Scott’s never met anyone stronger, and he doesn’t mean that in a performative way. He genuinely respects and looks up to Jimmy, to the point where he finds himself nervous about impressing him.

And—well. Jimmy’s a bit of a himbo, and—Scott’s never been able to resist a good himbo, okay? Muscles are quickly building, and that combined with his (albeit usually hidden) puppy-dog nature and good looks and everything else make him all Scott’s ever wanted in a romantic partner.

He’s perfect, he’s absolutely perfect, and Scott knows it every time he helps Jimmy recover from a flashback and every time he teaches Jimmy how to prepare a new meal and every time Jimmy smiles and all the times in the between. Normally, Scott would feel confused by just how quickly this crush has formed, what with Jimmy only having lived here for about a month—but to be fair, he has sort of been obsessing over the man for the better part of a year. Maybe it’s to be expected.

He can’t have a crush, though.

Scott will always care so very deeply about Aeor. He will always mourn him. But what happened to Aeor was never Jimmy’s fault, and Scott finds himself thinking that maybe it’s okay to move on in this way. Maybe it’s okay to acknowledge that what happened wasn’t anything that anyone could control or prevent.

That doesn’t mean he has to have anything with Jimmy.

That doesn’t mean he should have anything with Jimmy. Because when it really comes down to it, when Aeor is set aside and Scott asks himself what’s stopping him, there’s a rather glaring roadblock.

Scott is Jimmy’s conservator. He holds a frankly unfair amount of power over the man, deciding when he’s in his right mind to perform even the most basic of independent tasks. The control is terrifying to be the holder of, and he can’t help but think not only is it entirely inappropriate to seek a romantic relationship with the person he holds conservatorship over, but also that it could be very bad for Jimmy mentally to receive advances from someone in a position of power.

Scott agonizes over it for an entire month, even as he helps Jimmy make arrangements to meet up with Lizzie and then helps him gather the courage to actually do it. And in the aftermath, seeing Jimmy and Lizzie awkwardly (but lovingly) embrace before she leaves, he starts to wonder about something.

It’s only then that he thinks to maybe bring up his concerns to his therapist. To her credit, Nora doesn’t seem at all surprised by his confession, guilt, and feelings of dirtiness for wanting Jimmy that way when it could very well be seen as abusive.

She talks him through it, and though she agrees that pursuing anything while conservator would be inappropriate, she begins listing suggestions—namely, the one Scott had first wondered about when he saw the reunification of the siblings.

So two weeks after that, with shaking hands, Scott calls up Lizzie and asks her how far along she is on becoming a registered citizen.

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secondclassfangirl · 2 years

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Chapters: 4/6 Fandom: Karate Kid (Movies), Cobra Kai (Web Series) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence Characters: Daniel LaRusso, Johnny Lawrence Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Porn with Feelings, Getting Together, First Time, Emotional Sex, Intimacy, Explicit Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sneaking Around, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Pillow Talk, Relationship Negotiation, Vulnerability Summary:

A part of Daniel thinks that somewhere, buried deep within their souls, they both knew from the minute they met that everything was building to this—that it was only a matter of time before hate gave way to nature’s other primal, impassioned force.

(Or: Five times Johnny wouldn’t look at Daniel after sex, and the one time he did).

#chapter 4 is up!#this is a long one folks #lawrusso #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #johnny x daniel #the karate kid #cobra kai

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ohhgingersnaps · 1 year

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We Didn’t Start The Fire (SDV Superhero AU)

Ch. 23/32 — Nine In The Afternoon T+ | Sebastian/Female Farmer CW: Slight mugging, superhero battles

Given the amount of effort she’s put into looking nice for their little outing, she’s a little disappointed (and, if she’s honest, more than a little offended) when, upon her arrival at the mountain house, Sebastian takes one look at her outfit and visibly cringes. She crosses her arms, a little defensive. “What?” “No, you look great,” he rushes to reassure her. “It’s just… Motorcycle safety. The boots and the jeans are good, but if we slide, it’s a lot safer if you’re wearing a sturdy jacket or something, you know? Something protective?” “Oh,” she says, deflating a bit. “Right.” “Sorry, I should’ve thought to mention it beforehand.” “I mean, it’s fine? As long as you’re not planning on throwing me off, or anything—” “Absolutely not. You’re not getting on this bike without half-decent protective gear,” he says, frowning. “I have an idea. Wait here.” He goes back into the house, and she waits, fidgeting nervously with her necklaces. After a minute, he emerges with a dark, fleece-lined jacket. He holds it out to Ava, and she takes it, arching an eyebrow. “That’s my old biking jacket, from high school,” he explains, answering her unspoken question. “I never got around to donating it, so it’s just been hanging in the back of my closet for ages. It’s made of Kevlar-reinforced denim, so it should hold up pretty well.” She takes off her bag, which Sebastian kindly holds for her, and tugs the jacket on. It’s just a little big on her, but the material is comfortable and sturdy. She can move her arms pretty easily, and… Hang on. She sniffs. She holds the collar to her nose, then inhales again, because it smells like pine and cedar and tobacco, but under it, there’s a really nice smell, almost familiar, very comforting— Sebastian gives her a weird look, and she freezes, mortified. “Yeah, sorry, it probably smells like old cigarettes.” It smells like you, she absolutely can’t say, after very obviously going out of her way to take as deep a whiff of the jacket as possible, like it’s a three-wick candle at Bath and Body Works.

Read the rest on AO3!

#wdstf #featuring: motorcycle safety! parkour! fake dating on a real date! the geocache spot!#this is a long one folks #like it's 10k. i have written entire fics shorter than this before #sdv #sdv fic #stardew valley fic #stardew valley #sebastian sdv

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mooninparadise · 2 years

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Let this be a mark of stupid/random things in your ask box-- an actual question to start though. Favorite House of Ashes AU concept AND/OR Favorite HOA headcanon?That is all (for now dun dun dun) 👁〰👁💛

AHH YEESSS I look forward to it! I'm always down for'em 💖 They make my freaking day. Thank you so much!! This may get really wordy. I'm really chatty about stuff I like lol sorry in advance!

okay, so for HoA AUs I'm pretty much a sucker for any and all of them honestly? I wanna get my grubby mitts on as much content as I can. /especially/ monster ones.

However! I do have a few top favorites. The first one is an AU created by Crimsolion on Ao3 called Butterflies. In it, Jason descends from a long line of psychics that were gifted these abilities by the Curator. I think it's so genius how they incorporated the 'butterfly' mechanic from the game, into a beautifully unique storyline. I know usually people may be a little turned off on OC characters within fanfic, but I think it works here because it builds out a really rich backstory for Jason

Second AU is a zombie apocalypse one by ChangeTheCircumstances called Waking Up To Burnt Bridges. In it, Jason and Salim are married, however, after an accident, he wakes up to find he's in a zombie apocalypse and everyone he knows is different! Even himself! Absolutely terrific stuff. It's heart-wrenching but satisfying all in one. The fic isn't yet finished, but that's totally okay. It so well worth the read.

Last but not least is an AU where Jason is a Vampire, Salim is a Werewolf and Clarice is a ghost! ~and they were all roommates~. It's called the undead and cursed are taking over the cul-de-sac by the same author as the one above! It's goofy but so loveable and just a delightful AU. It's got freaking monsters!! and my girl Clarice gets the love she deserves!!

As for headcanons, I don't really have any personal ones 😅but I think what I love the most is that almost everyone in this fandom has just accepted that Eric/Rachel/Nick are in a poly relationship. I fucking LOVE that.

#this is a long one folks #I'm so sorry #house of ashes

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 days

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Expertise can't help you here.

#dungeon meshi #kabru #laios touden #falin touden #Happy Thistle Thursday once again. Have I been holding on to this comic for several weeks? Sure have!#I forgot how long it takes for Chimera Falin to come into play.#I still really love my 'better drawn' art of her - unfortunately it was several weeks too early for the anime only folks.#Slowly getting the hang of drawing Laios. I don't know why I struggle so much but I am getting...somewhere.#Meta time: God damn I love how the chimera shows off the expertise and gap between Kabru and Laios.#The truth is: they are both *right* and they are both *wrong*.#This creature is a combination of monster and human and they only have the skillset to deal with one of those.#Kabru goes for all the human vitals - but she isn't human.#Laios tries to approach her as a monster and is struck down by the humanity he sees in her.#She is something new that defies what they *both* understand about the world. And that makes her such a perfect antagonist.#The damsel was the dragon all along!#...She is really so cute though. Terrifying! But adorable. I am so excited to see the boom of fanart for her.

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andthebeanstalk · 11 months

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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

#hlep #original #mental health #my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it #i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support #and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of #huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the #longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel #i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop

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chloesimaginationthings · 23 days

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I ADORE your design for Charlie. It’s so adorable!!!!!!

I’m so glad y’all loved her design!!

#ask reply #genuinely I was pretty proud of Charlie’s look #so the fact so many folks liked her made me so happy #I really wanted her to stand out even against other ghost kids #so she got this monochromatic look to her #like she’s been a ghost so long she’s lost her colours #along with that she resembles the puppet more #almost like they fused into one by this point #I really tried to make her both ghostly and eerie #but also cute and friendly #so I think I found that perfect balance #I’m glad one of yall took note of her oversized sleeves #I thought it was a cute design and kept that ghost vibe to her #I gotta draw her again soon!!#we all love Charlie Emily here 🖤🤍

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bixels · 8 months

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Now that Ghibli's new movie is coming out soon, I've been thinking about anime films and wanna talk about my favorite animated movie ever, Tokyo Godfathers.

TG is a 2003 tragicomedy by Satoshi Kon, following three unhoused people––an alcoholic, a runaway girl, an a trans woman––who find a baby in a dumpster and set off across Tokyo to reunite her with her parents.

If you like the sound of that, go watch it because the rest of this post is spoilers and I have FEELINGS about this movie.

URGHH, the fact that only two moments of true kindness, generosity, and care given to the three protagonists without any expectation of reciprocity are given by a Latin-American immigrant couple and a drag show club full of trans women. The fact that, despite her loud and dramatic personality, Hana is the glue that holds the team together and the heart of the whole movie. The fact that this movie pulls no punches at showing the violence and inhumanity committed by "civilized Japanese society" against the unhoused. The fact that Miyuki craves to be loved by her parents and ends up seeing Hana as her true mother. The fact that Miyuki starts off accidentally using transphobic language against Hana, but slowly begins calling her "Miss Hana" out of respect. The fact that, according to Kon, Hana's role in the story is as a mythological trickster god and "disturb the morality and order of society, but also play a role in revitalizing culture." The fact that Hana so desperately wants to be part of a true family, yet is willing to sacrifice her found family so they can be with their own, and is rewarded for her good deeds in the end by becoming a godmother. The fact that, throughout the movie, wind and light have been used to signify the presence of god's hand/influence (this movie's about nondenominational faith––faith in yourself, faith in others, faith in a higher power. Lots of religious are referenced, such as Buddhism/Hinduism, Christianity, and Shintoism), and in the climax of the film, as Hana jumps off a building to save a baby that isn't hers, a gust of wind and a shower of light save her from death. The fact that god saves a trans woman's life because she proved herself a mother, and that shit makes me CRY.

#ramblings #long post #not art #personal #it's the ultimate found family movie #not without its problems. i really dont like its depiction of mental health #for a movie that does an otherwise great job spotlighting the unhoused crisis in japan and its society's oppressive distain towards women #and queer people. it really drops the ball on depicting one of the biggest contributors to the crisis #but otherwise this movie is so fucking full of love and kindness and second chances and how fucking good queer folks and poc are #it blows my mind that this film came out in 2003 and the main protagonist is a trans woman who's just the fucking best #the recent gkids dub is REALLY good by the way! they got shakina nayfack; a trans va; to voice Hana!#the dub made great strides to undo a lot of the original misgendering and mistranslations #also its a christmas movie #also the ost was done by the band that did earthbound's ost

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royalarchivist · 2 months

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Quackity: These past days I've been in many calls, and I'm not done yet. I've spoken to a lot of people and creators. I've read your comments and I'm well aware of what needs to be done to carry out this project. I want to tell you all, beforehand, that for me the team's well-being is fundamental. I'm very involved in this topic to sort it out and I want to make that very clear. I want to tell you something... I want to tell you all that the administrative staff responsible for so much harm to the project has been fired. Specifically, those who made decisions without my permission, affecting the administrative and financial area of the project. Consequently, after this, I was in charge of doing a financial analysis that's carrying out for the QSMP.

Guys, to be really honest, it was not going to last. Therefore, I've had to make deep drastic structural changes that have lead me to reduce the performance of the server down to the most essential, and this is in order to ensure the well being of everyone involved in it. Having said this, I want to give a very important update: I want to let you all know that the QSMP will have to slow down temporarily. This is to ensure this new structure adapts to the project, because it's a restructuring that's taking place. I'm letting you know, and I reiterate, there are no voluntary positions inside the QSMP.

At the moment, there will not be any more individual update accounts of all 5 existing languages in the project. In any case, during this transition, there's going to be a temporal absence of all Eggs and NPCs. I know these are difficult changes, and I repeat, it's temporary until we adjust to these new conditions that will improve the performance of this new structure that's being made from scratch, both in the administrative and financial part. I'd like to reintegrate people fro the QSMP as time goes by if a financial viability can be found for the project Taking advantage of this update to tell you guys that within the changes of the server as it is, creators will have full control of their lore and stories. The team will not intervene in the way that it was being done. Moreover, efforts will be made to change the competitive dynamics inside the game so as to ease up the game style for the creators. Like I'm saying, all of these changes, and more, are being carrying out to have the project as best as possible, and they're being done little by little. This is a whole new structure that will ensure the best continuity and experience for the creators, the community and the team behind.

Guys, I want to make very clear that this is restructuring process, and again, it's not a fast one. The server being open does not mean everything's perfect, I understand that very well. Conversations will keep taking place, communication will continue and the constant improvement of the project as well. I ask, please, for everyone's patience and understanding regarding all changes. Please do wait for official announcements since a lot of incomplete and incorrect information is being spread. I want to tell you all something- if you don't trust in these changes or have many doubts about it, and don't want to consume any more of the project's content, I understand 100%. I have a personal commitment with the QSMP and I will work until it functions in the way it is supposed to do.

Lastly, I want to let you know that it was being worked on for months on finalizing the integration of Korean creators to the QSMP. For that reason, tomorrow we will be welcoming the new Korean creators of the QSMP, of course, taking into account all the changes I've just mentioned. I hope you can give the new Korean members warm welcome to the project. And as you know, their schedules are earlier. For everyone who would like to watch, they will be joining at 11am Mexico time and at 9am US time. Basically, I wanted to give that update regarding everything that's being done within the project. Again, thank you for your patience and understanding- these are necessary changes and I'm glad they're being done now. And many more things will keep being adjusted.

via @QuackitySubs

#Quackity #QSMP #QSMP Official #Translated #This is very long and I bolded parts to make it easier to read #but if there's a way to make it more accessible to folks lemme know!#I personally find the bolding thing helpful but I know everyone is different #Edit: got rid of the additional ''Quackity:'' bolded parts since that's unnecessary #since. you know. he's the only one speaking here #Quackity Subs also missed a few words in here so I added those in but otherwise this is exactly what was posted #Minus the part where they said ''fro''#I don't know if they meant for or from but that's a very vital difference so I'm leaving that as-is #IMO: It's reassuring hearing the full statement #''Please do wait for official announcements since a lot of incomplete and incorrect information is being spread''#is an especially important reminder #There has unfortunately been a lot of misinformation and catastrophizing / doomposting going around #I understand it's a very scary stressful time for many people #and it sucks being told to be patient #but we actually DO need to be patient if we want to get actual accurate information

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achillean-knight · 4 months

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Part 1 - Part 2 Here you go, the final part. This is for you, Anon's who requested the continuation of this JKHGDSHGS

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dioti · 2 years

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i finished rewriting the abilities scores and skills stuff from the previous version. i say “rewrite” but honestly i just copied most of it over. i did modify some of the subroutines and tweaked a few other things but mechanically it works pretty similar to the old version.

the thing that i’m most happy about is actually the page for assigning ability scores. i thought it would be a bit of a pain to implement and IT WAS, but it turned out very robust and easy to use.

(write up for implementing ability scores below the cut)

storing ability scores

you would think that storing the ability scores would be as simple as storing a score for each ability (str, dex, con, etc.) but it’s actually not! in 5e, there’s a lot of different sources for an ability score - your initial rolls, racial score, magic items, etc.

to make it easier to keep track of the player’s ability scores, i split every score into multiple variables for each different possible source. for example, for the player’s strength score, i create the following variables:

base_str - the base score, determined by standard array or rolling

race_str - a numeric value that is added onto the base score. it’s determined by the player’s race (e.g. a human would have race_str=1)

addi_str - a numeric value that is added onto the base score. it’s determined by various possible sources, such as magic items, spell effects or conditions

fixed_str - a score that, by default, is 999. if the score is ever NOT 999, its value will override the final ability score. it can be used for various magic items (e.g. the belt of hill giant strength would have fixed_str=21)

str - the final ability score

str_mod - the ability modifier, calculated from the final ability score

as a quick side note, i use the commoner stat block for the default player stats. so by default, the player will have a 10 in every ability score. 🙂

setting ability scores

if you read the previous writeup about the player_height stat, you’ll know that some stats should never be set directly. this is the same case here. we need subroutines for setting base_str, race_str, addi_str and fixed_str, as well as subroutines for updating str and str_mod.

for setting the base ability score, we make a subroutine called set_base_ability_score that takes in the name of the ability (e.g. “str”) as a parameter. we can use string manipulation to construct the name of the variable we want and then use double braces to set the value of that variable (e.g. var_name = “base_str” so {var_name} = base_str). of course, we have to update the final ability scores at the end.

alternatively, we can also write a subroutine called set_base_ability_scores that sets ALL the ability scores at once. we always remember to update the final ability scores at the end.

to calculate the final ability scores, we take the base score, and add the race and addi scores onto it. if fixed score has changed from its default value of 999, then we override the final ability score. we do this in the update_ability_scores subroutine. at the end, we make sure to update the ability score modifiers.

to calculate the ability score modifiers, we need to calculate the modifier for each score. if you’re familiar with 5e, you may know that you can do it like this:

get the score

subtract 10

if the result is odd, subtract 1

halve it

we write this all in its own subroutine called calculate_modifier and then we can call it for each ability score in the update_ability_score_modifiers subroutine. at some point, we’ll need to update the saving throws and skills at the end of this subroutine but that’s for another time.

just a quick note: we are using the modulo symbol (%) to determine whether the result of subtracting 10 is odd or even. you can read more about modulo in the choicescript documentation or on wikipedia.

displaying ability scores

in our stats screen, we want have both the ability scores and their modifiers. given that we have a variable for each of those things, it’s really easy to just display their values. we use multi-replace to determine whether or not to print a “+” or “-” before the modifier.

generating ability scores

heads up! from here onwards, we’ll be using arrays a lot. if you’re not familiar with them, i would strongly recommend you read through the choicescript documentation or get a quick crash course on arrays in programming.

to generate the initial base scores (this refers to the base_ability_score variable), the player can either choose to use standard array or to roll for scores. we’ll store these scores in an array called as.

for standard array, it’s as simple as assigning a score to each element in as. remember, we’re only generating a set of scores, so the actual order doesn’t matter.

if the player chooses to roll their ability scores, it gets a lot more complicated. the method we’re using to determine each score is a common one: roll 4d6 and drop the lowest.

without painstakingly going through each line of the code, here’s a summary of what we’re doing:

we have a temp variable called sum_score, which will store the value of all our d6 rolls added up

we have a temp variable called lowest_roll which will store the value of the lowest roll out of the 4 rolls we will be making

we get a random number between 1 and 6 (inclusive) using choicescript’s *rand command. this is basically us rolling a d6

we do this 4 times in total (remember, we are rolling 4d6). each time, we add the result to the sum_score variable. we also check if the result is lower than the lowest_roll variable and if it is, then we set lowest_roll as that result.

we calculate the final score by doing sum_score - lowest_roll

we do the above steps 6 times in total (one for each ability score)

we display a printout of the rolls for each score, as well as the final score for each set

a really important thing to note is that *rand triggers when you load a page that it’s used on. furthermore, when you’re on a page, open the Stats screen and then return the game, it actually RELOADS the page that you were on. combining those two things means that if your scores get generated and you’re not happy with them, you can open and close the Stats screen to regenerate them. obviously this is a bit of a problem because it defeats the point of rolling - it’s supposed to be a gamble!

to get around this, we can generate the scores before the player even chooses the option for rolling scores. unfortunately for us, this means that we have to create a lot of temporary variables to log the results of the rolls, so that we can display them later on if the player does choose to roll.

you’ll notice that we’ve got a couple of labels in there that end with “loop”. we’re using them in order to repeat certain actions. in our case, we want to a) roll a d6 4 times and b) generate a final score 6 times. if you’re familiar with programming, it’s basically a while loop. you can read more about loops in the choicescript documentation.

now when the player DOES choose to roll their scores, we can simply assign the six final ability scores we calculated to each element in the as array we made earlier, in the same way as we did for standard array.

assigning ability scores

now that we have a full set of scores, the player needs to assign each one to an ability. this is a little more complicated than it first seems. we need to follow the following rules:

each score from the set can only be used ONCE

each ability MUST be assigned a score

each score from the set must be assigned to a DIFFERENT ability

so how exactly will the player be able to assign their scores? for starters, we want a main page where the player can see their set of generated scores, as well as their current assignments. the player should be able to choose an ability to change.

this will take them to a second page for whatever ability they picked. they’ll be shown their current assignment for the given ability. they should then be able to assign a score, unassign the current score (if one is assigned) or simply return to the previous page. if the score they’re trying to assign has already been assigned to a different ability, then the option should be greyed out

once all the abilities have been assigned a score, the player can confirm that they’re happy with their assignments and we can update the global ability scores. if any ability has NOT been assigned, the player should not be allowed to progress.

now we actually have to implement it. we’ll be using arrays again to keep track of different variables. this lets me manipulate values more easily but unfortunately it makes it quite hard to read, especially if you’re not familar with arrays in the first place. sorry in advance 🙁 you could probably rewrite this part using a combination of multi-replace and double braces, but i’m personally more comfortable with the kind of programming style that using arrays provide

a quick note about this part. we’ll generally be referring to each ability as a number, where:

0 = str

1 = dex

2 = con

3 = int

4 = wis

5 = cha

anyway. to start with, let’s create a couple of arrays. abi will track which score is matched to which ability. as_ass will track whether or not a score has been assigned to an ability or not. we need to create these arrays before our main page, so they don’t get reset every time the player returns to the main page.

on the main page, we can print out the scores and ability assignments using multi-replace and some array fuckery.

we don’t want the player to progress until they’ve assigned scores to all of their abilities. we can make a boolean (true/false) variable called blocked which keeps track of this. we can update blocked by looping through abi and checking if the elements are still set to the default value of 999 (this indicates that the element has not been assigned anything).

on the main page, we want the player to be able to choose an ability to change. that means we’ll need an option for each ability. we’ll also add an option that the player can choose when they’re happy with their assignments and want to progress. we can use *selectable_if and the blocked variable to prevent the player from choosing that option if they haven’t assigned all their abilities.

now for the second page, where the player actually picks a score! instead of copy and pasting the same block of code into each option, you may have noticed from the screenshot above that i’m just using a subroutine instead. it’s called print_abi_change_choices and it takes the ability name and number (remember, 0=str, etc.) as parameters.

we need to quickly check for which abilities have assignments. we’ll be using this in a minute to prevent players from picking certain options, so it’s important that we do this check immediately. first, we set all assignments to false. then we loop through each ability and check if it’s paired with a score. if it is, we set the corresponding assignment as true.

we can then print out the name of the current ability, as well as its assigned score (if it has one).

for the choices, we create an option for each score. selecting one of the options will assign that score to the current ability. we use *selectable_if to prevent the player from choosing a score if it’s already been assigned. if the player unassigns the score, it will set the value back to 999 (remember, this is the default value and it indicates that the ability has not been assigned a score). the player is also given the option to simply return to the main page.

once we’ve finished assigning all our scores, we should be able to choose the “Finish assigning ability scores” option. this will take us onto a confirmation page, which displays the current score assignments and gives the player the option to either confirm or go back.

if the player confirms their score assignments, we need to update the player’s ability scores by calling the set_base_ability_scores subroutine that we created earlier.

if the player chooses to go back, they’ll be returned to the main page, where they can unassign the score from any abilities and reassign a new score instead.

conclusion

i have no takeaway here other than that choicescript is a pain in the ass to work with sometimes. anyway, if you got this far, well done. and have a good day! 😊

#this is a long one folks #dioti logs #choicescript

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