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#makes me feel mechanical and not in control of myself instead of someone who's organic and can make my own decisions about my life

ryuichifoxe · 2 years

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Feeling someone brush against his mental shields is an entirely new experience that only happened once before in the sewers, and just because the contact is expected doesn't make it any easier. It's strange and unnerving for once feeling like a prey instead of the hunter.

He sees the frozen expression on Emery's face as the truth is revealed. Expects an attack more than anything else, and definitely not shooting words and casual conversation. He acts so calm, it must be a facade.

A moment passes and although the air between them is still charged with tension Em goes back to work. Relieved, he releases his grip on the device that rests in his pocket and puts his free hand back on the table.

"It takes a certain kind of stupidity if you ask me." he breaths out weakly trying and failing to show no emotion.

"Oh the hand?" short pause " Yeah I tried to fix it myself but in the end I needed someone to take a look at it. It has been bothering me for a while now." It's a good enough excuse, so sure, he lets Em think that he is no good when it comes to tech.

At least if he can't find what's missing I can easily fix that at home.

The hand is in pristine condition otherwise although it is clearly a very old model. Em doesn't see much of these, maybe one or two of his clients have them. Old veterans who came back from war or other kinds of duty are usually still equipped with them but civilian amputees definitely don't get these at the hospital.

"I am actually left handed so I don't use them for... that. Well I was right handed before but then shit happened so here I am." he scratches the ridge of his nose. Em can see now in this close proximity that it was broken before and healed just a little bit wrong and doesn't have an entirely smooth curve anymore.

Oversharing much?

"Anyway, you have a pretty nice place here. I take it the shop is going well the cilents must be satisfied" Yeah, that's right casual conversation just like a normal person would do. Doing great!

-✘

Em thinks his controlled expression in the face of small talk and the fact that he recognizes some of the stolen parts, worthy of an academy award.

”You're right about one thing," he says, steady hands removing more plates and setting them aside with their respective screws. His voice is just as even, the customer service persona dropped in favor of remaining calm. " You are a dumbass. For coming back, I mean. And I'm one for not tossing you out on your face.”

Might not be the dumbest thing Emery has ever done but it's up there. Top three.

Still unsure if the man in front of him is just another telepath or a runaway re-gene like himself. You'd think a military grade prosthesis would be a dead giveaway. It's not. Neither is the palpable paranoia. And his usual intelligence gathering strategy is off the table. Doubts it would end well for either of them if he tried.

Curious, his eyes flicker to the rolled up sleeve. Below the elbow. Tight. Nothing to show at the collar either. Similar to his own but that's a far cry from proof. He follows the movement of the other hand, really taking in the details. Prominent facial features and scars. Em doesn't recognize him. Though that's not saying much, there are only a handful of cuckoos he could confidently identify. Two were recycled before...

Emery shakes his head, trying to chase away the building migraine accompanying the memory.

Don't go poking that bear or you won't get any fucking sleep this week, Becerra.

So, he refocuses and asks him to flex his hand, observing how the inner mechanisms work in harmony. A beautiful thing, really. Calming. Technology usually was. Outdated sensor is definitely a problem.

Tool cabinets line one wall and half of another. Some smaller chests house actual tools, most are used to keep spare, specialized parts organized. He makes sure to keep his hands visible approaching them.

Blue. Second drawer has the sEMG sensors. Should try a newer processing board while I'm at it. Get everything up-to-date.

The only sound in the shop for the next few minutes is Emery rummaging through drawers.

“Most people project. Y'know? Makes the job a little easier, saves me time and customers money, avoiding unnecessary tests.” The admission breaks the silence and he glances over his shoulder on the way to another cabinet. “Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you're not, but we both know that hand is too well maintained for me to believe you don't have a better understanding than you're letting on. Unless this is some sort of test...”

Supplies in hand, Emery walks back but can't quite bring himself to sit. Instead, he looks the man in the eye. Searching for answers, a clue, anything.

“What else are you getting out of this? And if you crack some two bit joke about a hand job, I will kick your ass and throw you back in the sewer. I'll be sure to send an itemized bill via rat.” There's a crack in his mask, the hint of a smile at his own joke threat, but it's gone in a blink. A guarded weariness takes its place. “Look...if you want reassurance, I'm not interested in ruining your life. Pretty sure the name you gave is fake anyway.”

#long post #✘ anon #emery becerra #ryu plays fallen hero #ryu writes #me: I'm not gonna write as much #also me:#step's think too much let's be real

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 3 years

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So I (finally!) bought a pair of really good noise cancelling headphones, and it has changed my life! It's the fanciest thing I've bought in years, so to recoup some of the cost, I’ve researched & written a little essay based on my experiences with extreme noise sensitivity.

Hypersensitivity to sound is something I’ve dealt with all of my life, but I only recently found out it's medically known a Hyperacusis. (Please note this is a separate condition from Misophonia.) If you consistently struggle to cope with noise, the info below could be helpful! I’m including a link to my ko-fi, and I will be answering questions in the notes.

(skip to the bottom to read fun facts about my tax return and/or street organs vendettas!)

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional, this is based solely on my experiences as a patient, and on what I have read and been told by professionals. Please notify me if you have corrections or concerns about accuracy!

BACKGROUND: Sensitivity to sound is a common type of sensory issue. While anyone can experience such issues (most people, for example, might be bothered by loud music in a crowded restaurant), some people are more sensitive than others, to the point it becomes a quality-of-life aka a medical issue.

If you consistently struggle with environmental stimuli that other people aren’t bothered by (background noises, bright lights, certain textures and tastes, etc), to the point it causes daily discomfort or limits the environments you can be in, I recommend reading about Sensory Processing Disorder.

SPD and sound sensitivity are both super common in autistic folks (like me!), but allistic (non-autistic) people can experience them too. Weep, ye prisoners of mortal coil, for none are safe, nothing sacred, not in this thy most accursed tomb of human flesh!

Anyway.

SOUND SENSITIVITY or HYPERACUSIS: Noise issues are particularly difficult to navigate in a world that is increasingly...noisy. The relatively new phenomenon of constant overhead music in restaurants, grocery stores, shopping malls etc—all of this means that public spaces are increasingly inaccessible to people with auditory issues.*

As a kid, nothing quite triggered sensory overload/meltdowns for me like the constant exposure to noise I couldn’t control—the background chatter of other kids in the lunchroom, the constant noise in public spaces, being trapped in the car with the radio on.... I had so many fights with my siblings about the car radio, and who got to choose the music.**

But it’s not just loud sounds that are the problem. As an adult who lives alone and works from home***, I’m lucky enough to be able to avoid loud environments most of the time. This does wonders for my general levels of anxiety and discomfort. But even in a mostly controlled environment, I still experience problems. Because part of sound sensitivity is that even normal or quiet sounds can feel loud and intrusive. Here are some “normal” sounds that can cause me discomfort (ranging from annoyance to outright pain, depending on the day):

refrigerator/AC/ceiling lights humming

dishwasher/washing machine noises

ceiling fan making that damn ceiling fan noise

faint sounds of traffic

riding in a car

other people having a normal conversation in the background

someone talking to me in a perfectly normal inside voice

Unfortunately, even in a “controlled” environment, many triggering noises can’t be controlled. And many parts of life can’t be lived in a controlled environment. This presents...some incredibly freaking annoying problems. Luckily there are solutions!

Sorta.

There are sorta some solutions.

They are imperfect, but they help.

TREATMENT: And now I have something rather shame-faced to admit. In all the years of managing my symptoms, it never once occurred to me to see a hearing specialist for my issues with sound. I wasn’t even aware that treatment options exist, because none of my other doctors mentioned it. Instead, I’ve spent years finding my own coping mechanisms and tools, with help from therapists and psychiatrists, but without ever consulting an audiologist/ENT. It was only while researching this post that I found out that was even an option, holy shit.

So it turns out I am going to be making an appointment with my local ENT practice. shit.

Apparently treatment options include sound/acoustic therapy, systematic desensitization/exposure therapy, cognitive behavior therapy, sound machines, and other options that I had no idea even existed, goddammit.

MANAGEMENT: In the meantime, here are my current coping mechanisms. I’ve relied rather heavily on hearing protection, which is very useful when used in moderation. Unfortunately, it can cause its own problems: it’s important not to overuse hearing protection, because in the long-term this can increase your sensitivity. So again: a useful tool, but be careful not to overdo it.

With that in mind, here are some of the coping strategies I’ve used over the last decade to manage my symptoms. This is not a perfect system and you should contact your local ENT clinic for better, long-term solutions, but in the meantime here are some tips I use to just get myself through the damn day:

Regularly spending time in a quiet controlled environment, to allow my nervous system to decompress.

Wearing earplugs, (I use two different grade, depending on the level of noise prevention I need), and always carrying an extra pair in case I need them unexpectedly. I bought a 50 pack for $7 and put spares in all my bags and jacket pockets.

(I mostly use Mack’s Ultra Soft, but there are so many types and materials and brands, including foam, silicone, wax, custom moldable etc. Even if you have trouble wearing things in your ears, you might be able to find something comfortable.)

Similarly: hearing protection earmuffs, the kind used in gun ranges and on construction sites. I bought mine online for $10. they look like normal wireless headphones, so I've never gotten comments when wearing mine in public (other than “cool heaphones” bc i added skull glitter stickers).

Sometimes I wear the earmuffs on top of earplugs, when life is just too damn LOUD.

Listening to music w/ earbuds or headphones is a great way to balance out background noises, especially if you can find soothing playlists that help you concentrate. Also useful to put in just one earbud when you need to pay attention in class/at work.

Pro tip: if your hair is long enough you can wear wireless earbuds without anyone knowing.

White noise, rain noises, ocean noises etc can be helpful! Some people like whale songs although personally this activates my primal fear response

Active noise cancelling headphones: the reason I wrote this post to begin with—I finally bought a pair! As in, a really good pair! As in, a depressingly expensive pair with noise cancelling technology that actually WORKS, holy shit. I probably need to wear them a little less at home (bc overprotection causes problems in the longterm) but they have absolutely transformed my ability to go out in public and i never ever want to take these suckers off again please take a power screwdriver and nail these to my head, bury me in the sweet sweet shroud of silence. holy canoli and cream puffs I want to marry form a civil partnership with these headphones. Plus they have a bunch of features, like being able to control the level of noise cancellation, so I can hold a conversation or be aware of some ambient noise for safety reasons.

Oh, and also they play music I guess?

Sorry sorry I promise this post wasn’t supposed to be me shilling for Big Electronics. I’m just excited, I’m an excited flabby little ball of expired flubber. ANC headphones aren’t a perfect solution, and I still sometimes wear earplugs underneath, and I will always be uncomfortable some of the time, but for me it’s been a big step.

Unfortunately the cost of good quality ANC technology means this isn’t an option for everyone, and the (much cheaper) gunshot protection earmuffs I mentioned earlier still provide an impressive amount of protection and bang-for-your buck (maybe even an equal amount of protection, if you can find ones that fit well). But if noise consistently prevents you from enjoying public space and life in general, and you’ve already tried earmuffs & earplugs and find they don’t offer enough comfort/convenience/protection, and if you’re in a position to save up for a one time non-necessity purchase of $150+, noise cancelling headphones are an option to be aware of. (Please always check the return policy so you can try before you buy. I ended up buying and returning 2 pairs before finding what worked best for me. And please look for a retailer that offers an extended warranty. You want those motherforkers to last).

There are cheaper options available, including some under $50. The ones I tried didn't work as well as my hearing protection earmuffs, but some people report good experiences, so that is something to consider. it's always good to know your options! Passive noise canceling is another affordable alternative.

Medication: A final tool in my toolbox, which for me personally has helped as much as every other method combined. Like, a lot, it’s helped a lot. It turns out some anti-anxiety medications can also help sensory issues. There’s not much research on this, and I only discovered it firsthand when a medication my doctor prescribed for anxiety ended up significantly helping my sensory issues. I no longer need medication for anxiety, but my psychiatrist still prescribes that same medication off-label for my sensory stuff. Ask your psychiatrist to research your options (they will probably have to do some digging to find relevant research, but you deserve to know all your options, even the obscure ones). Fyi, the medication I use is in the benzodiazepines class, but there are other options for those concerned about dependency or side effects.

(I'm also told anti-anxiety supplements may be helpful, though I haven't tried this yet. If you're on prescription meds, always talk to your doctor about contraindications before taking anything over-the-counter.)

So there you have it, my main coping strategies for sound sensitivity! They are not a replacement for medical treatment (except that last one which is in fact...medical treatment), but I find them helpful and I hope some of you will too! I’ve struggled for a long time, and I’m very pleased to have reached the point where I can just do things in public. Eating out in loud restaurants? I can do that now, and even enjoy it, holy shit! I can comfortably travel in cars for hours at a time, and walk around shopping malls and grocery stores with overhead music, and, and —and just exist. It is so so freeing, to feel like maybe, after everything, you are actually allowed to just exist in a world that wasn’t really designed for you.

Again, be careful not to overuse hearing protection—the goal is to allow you to be less uncomfortable and to function better, but if you find you are becoming more sensitive to noise, it is time to dial it back a notch. Or maybe consider listening to music (at a reasonable volume) to block out background noise instead.

*(This also includes people with hearing loss and related issues, btw. While that’s not my area of knowledge, I would welcome it if any of my HoH followers want to share their experiences.)

**A sign of sensory issues that parents often miss is when a child complains about music being too loud—but has no problem listening to their own music at high volume. This is because music that is already familiar to the listener (and that the listener enjoys) is much easier for the brain to process, since it knows what pattern of sounds to expect. Loud music that they get to control can be soothing for people with sound issues, especially when it blocks out background noise and sensations. This is why repetitively playing the same songs can be a helpful form of stimming.

***(working on this blog, actually. since it’s my only source of income, my 2020 income tax return literally lists my occupation as ‘Tumblr Blogger.’ Oddly, my parent didn’t feel this achievement was worth including in the holiday family newsletter.)

bonus fun fact: Charles Babbage aka “father of the computer” may have been autistic and hypersensitive to sound. He definitely had a huge problem with public noise pollution, and spent his later year waging a war on street musicians (and organ grinders in particular).

(bc like, yeah. screw organ grinders.)

Sometimes when I’m out in public and the overhead music is particularly unbearable, I’ll take a moment to look up to the sky and scream out: “HE TRIED TO WARN US! THE FATHER OF COMPUTERS TRIED TO WARN US!!! we should have listened, sweet heaven we should have listened!”

except i don’t scream it, i say it very quietly under my breath

(i have issues with noise)

so yeah that is my short essay. and here is the ko-fi goal

k ciao i gotta go pick out glitter stickers for my headphones

#actuallyautistic #not a shitpost #holy shit how did i spend 3 hours writing this what even is my blog #this blog is supposed to be blue whale anxiety and uncomfortably sexy clown jokes #what am i doing #sensory processing disorder #sensory issues #mental health #actually autistic #NOTIFY ME OF ANY TYPOS #i proofread this 5 times my eyes weep an unceasing flood of blood and regret #adhd #actuallyadhd #autism #sensory problems

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violentmouths · 3 years

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Heeeeeellllllooooo in theeeeeere...

So good to see old friends and readers, now my blog isn't always gonna be about Devil May Cry as I do like these deep dives whether you do or not. I've been in depression since early December but I'm feeling grander than ever! I'm happy to say that Uncharted 4 and RE8 helped a lot.

But I'm not gonna talk about the whole RE8 game...

I just wanna talk about one specific character...

Karl Heisenberg

First off, I love his name! Instead of being spelt with a C, it's spelt with a K! And the lastname alone is just fucking sexy!

From the information I've gathered (my observations, Wiki, and YouTubers), I couldn't help but find myself infatuated by him:

- He was kidnapped and subjugated to the Cadou Parasite Experiments (said in the Wiki and his diaries).

- Kept himself cooped up in his factory to work on his inhumane experiments for his rebel army (introvert, maybe?).

- Has a grudge against Mother Miranda.

Alright let's get this out of the way, I LOVE his appearance, he looks so rugged up and I just love it!

From his trench coat, to his hat, to his shades?! So adorable (nope, not hot... adorable...) especially when he says:

To be honest and blunt, he stammers and stutters before he starts yelling, an example of him not liking to be interrupted, which happens three times; by Angie, Moreau, and that experiment with the propellers ( can't think of his name at the moment).

Let's be honest, no one likes being interrupted when speaking...

Back to the Dive-in...

I was listening to a YouTuber called Video Game Sophistry, who said that Karl Heisenberg was supposed to actually be a pair of TWINS, they'd both do brain experiments on their mother while his father was supposed to look like Karl during his boss fight... As well being the ruler of the land, not Mother Miranda... But capcom discarded that idea (glad they did)...

His body is made of electrical organs that are connected to his nervous system where he can pass and control electricity throughout his whole body, allowing him to control magnetic fields which moves the metal!

Mother Miranda didn't see Heisenberg as a good enough vessel for her daughter. Only seeing him like an experiment, which he mentions in his diary.

"She took me. Took us. To be her children. She locked us away in the village. Decades of serving her. Can you even understand that humiliation?"

- Karl Heisenberg

It is extremely clear that his life was taken from him, but it's his next line that made me think...

"I'm not my siblings. I want nothing more than to be free of that bitch."

- Karl Heisenberg

Wanting to be free, eh?

Sound familiar?

Yeah, Karl and Zoe have some things in common:

- Stuck with their 'families' for years

- Want nothing other than being free.

- Relying on Ethan to help them

Unfortunately Heisenberg dies before getting his wish... Zoe doesn't...

Gonna skip to the scene when Heisenberg explains his plan to Ethan... I don't know how, I don't why no one looks to the left...

But I did...

In red, BOLD LETTERS next to Donna Beneviento and Salvator Moreau's pic says and quote:

"BSAA COME!!"

Why does he want the BSAA to come to wherever he lives? Does he want to join them? Does he work for them secretly? Also, how does he know about Chris...? As well as American Ground Beef (That part makes me laugh as well as question him)...?

Like:

- Did he ever travel to America?

- Did he ever eat something that had ground beef in it (not all ground beef is used for burgers, guys)?

- Was he going to travel to America if he gotten free? Maybe keep a low profile?

We'll never know...

Another thing I've discovered while scrolling through the comment section of YouTube vids that have Heisenberg in it was that it didn't look like Heisenberg actually died, most of the time the characters would calcify and crumble... But he just exploded! No calcification, no nothing just... BOOM!

Someone also said that his 'form' looked like armor rather than a transformation... Which I had to agree on, it does look like armor!

The transformation even looks like a Splendid Royal Moss Caterpiller ( VGS even says it himself) which was supposed to move faster than the other Lord's transformations.

I was personally thinking he'd turn into a mechanical horse thus to his symbol, but, oh well!

Alright this is getting too long, hope you liked my deep dive, I'll probably do more, I kinda wanna talk about Ethan and Heisenberg in the next one...

See you soon...

#re8 theories #resident evil #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #deep dives #it's jus' observations #just obsevations #but wowie #lord heisenberg #re8 village #im back on my shit

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triforce-princess · 3 years

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well, i finally 100% completed hyrule warriors age of calamity in its entirety, including post game content, so i’m finally going to write a full review. beware this review will contain every spoiler imaginable so please do not click the read more if you haven’t finished the game yet and don’t want to be spoiled!

tl,dr; this game is a lot of fun despite some of its shortcomings and it’s really nice to see characters get the development they needed in breath of the wild. also a huge improvement gameplay-wise from the first game. if you’re a fan of breath of the wild it’s worth a try, just don’t expect breath of the wild style of gameplay! and if you’re a fan of the original hyrule warriors, you are going to love this a lot. ok now to get into the details. this is extremely long;

about the gameplay; it took me a while to fully adjust to the new controls and mechanics, but once i finally understood it it was so much fun. i originally wasn’t crazy about the sheikah slate runes since it was difficult at first to remember that a. i had that ability, and b. when the proper time to use it was. but when it finally clicked for me it brought a whole new interesting layer to the gameplay that challenged my memory in a fun way. it took me even longer to learn what the use of the rods were but those were great in a pinch once i figured it out. i also loved the flurry rush mechanic since dodging is a pretty important aspect of the gameplay. all these new layers added to this gameplay makes me wonder how i ever put up with the original hyrule warriors gameplay lol. something i wasn’t entirely crazy about was the wall jumping and paraglider stuff? i never really found it useful and it always just became a problem when i was trying to dodge and i’d be confused about why my character was slowly flying around at critical moments.

the camera in this game was pretty frustrating. with the more organic map & lots of tight spaces (which i’ll get more into later), the camera would get stuck a lot and you’d be unable to really see what’s going on and it got pretty frustrating at times. i wish there were some way they could fix that but i’m not sure what they could do without having the camera go out of bounds & show the edges of the map. maybe they could’ve made some of the objects that are in the middle not be things the camera get stuck on though.

i also felt like there were too many special effects going on with some enemies and attacks, sometimes it would cover up large parts of the screen & you wouldn’t be able to see what you were fighting and that was pretty stressful (i found myself frequently yelling “i can’t see!!” when i’d defeat a guardian or something in a room with lots of other enemies. this only became an issue in the later parts of the game though.

now about the maps, i do love how much more organic and natural they are. it’s a big upgrade from the original which had a lot of wide corridors leading into square rooms which were allied/enemy basses. but unfortunately, this causes issues with navigation and the camera getting stuck (like i mentioned before). i had a lot of problems where the map was too natural and i was confused about why i was getting stuck on level geometry when it looked like i could walk through there. i think the breath of the wild style makes this confusing too because you can’t really undo a thousand hours of being able to walk through nearly everything. but also it was just really unclear what was a wall and what wasn’t sometimes. i was surprised i actually had to zoom in on the mini map and look at that to move around at times. definitely an ambitious aspect of the game & i appreciate the effort and detail, but i don’t know if it works that great for this style of gameplay. i also don’t know why they bothered putting so many small details on the ground if they’re just going to pop in so close to the camera. it was kind of awkward when you cleared out all the enemies & were traveling to another location and it was the only noticable thing on screen.

speaking of ambitious, we can’t ignore this game’s framerate issues. it’s the first thing on everyone’s minds when talking about this game. most of the time, it was pretty acceptable. but they definitely pushed this game farther than the switch can go and it shows. i really appreciate the love they put into making this game as detailed as they did, but i don’t know if it was worth it in the long run. there’s only a couple times i can think of where the framerates got absolutely unacceptable, and it always seemed to be when there was a lot of electricity and enemies on screen at the same time. it happened once during the final vah naboris mission and another time where there were a ton of electric lizalfos all shooting electricity at once at the same time you have to fight an electric lynel. but, i’m not the kind of gamer that loses my shit over dropped framerates, i grew up with the n64 & have had to put up with poor early emulation many times in my life so framerates don’t really phase me until it just gets unplayable.

wasn’t crazy about how many late game missions were just boss rushes, but that’s pretty standard hyrule warriors fare. at least it was more fair in this game where most of the time you only had to fight one boss at a time and the next boss wouldn’t spawn in until you beat the first one, so there was no risk of accidentally aggro-ing a boss in another part of the map & have an unfair fight on your hands like in the first game. it was pretty anti-climactic how the seemingly final mission which had the highest recommended level was just another boss rush, and not even the hardest one (it was just a bunch of regular malice bosses in a row).

bit of a side note but i didn’t like having to grind for materials and find koroks for 100%. the koroks weren’t nearly as bad as breath of the wild though, thank god.

i’m pretty disappointed that some content that’s clearly in the game isn’t unlocked in the base game, it’s looking pretty likely that they’ll add it as dlc later & pretend it’s new content to make the game relevant again...i’ve always firmly believed dlc should be extra content that’s added in later. hopefully they’ll add some really cool stuff as dlc alongside the stuff that’s in the game & it won’t be so disappointing. there’s two characters i was sure would be unlocked as playable characters (sooga and astor) but i found it weird that you don’t get them in the post game and instead you get to play as the egg guardian (terrako) and calamity ganon???? talk about subverting expectations. also really frustrated to learn that zelda’s royal dress isn’t available in the base game but its in the files & is just missing one body part?? really hope that’s just a free update and not like, paid dlc. kind of dumb that they didn’t give the devs one extra day to model feet on the character.

about the story; the story starts out really strong i feel, i loved seeing characters get the development they didn’t get in breath of the wild and this game’s story makes breath of the wild’s story feel even more incomplete than it did before this game came out. and actually seeing the story play out in chronological order in real time without link having amnesia gave the story so much more feeling and connection. this is probably my favorite aspect of this game because i was always so disappointed with how disconnected you feel in breath of the wild because of the way the story is told. and it does so much of a better job illustrating link and zelda’s feelings. i’m probably the single most difficult person to convince when it comes to link and zelda being in a relationship or having feelings for eachother and i thought this was quite possibly the best master sword scene in any zelda game;

in previous games link has always had to prove his courage in a variety of trials spread across the land and to me its really boring, especially after how many times its been done. the thing that gets me about this scene is the master sword deems him worthy because of his desire to protect zelda even when he’s been beaten down & disarmed. that was a really beautiful moment to me & i’m glad they wrote the scene this way.

speaking of being worthy of power because you want to protect someone, i wasn’t really that crazy of zelda unlocking her power just because she loves link but honestly this game illustrated it in a much better way & i’m more down with it now. i loved this shot how it really captured what she was feeling;

it’s also in general awesome to see the champions in action, both in gameplay and in cutscenes. i remember being in awe the first time i got to play as urbosa. it feels like we finally really got to know them and how powerful they really were, instead of breath of the wild just telling us they were cool & we just had to believe it.

now for the part i know people say this game is shit because of; the time travel aspect. yeah, it’s a little silly and nonsensical, but honestly, it was kind of fun. and i don’t get how a time travel plot is somehow weird for the zelda series. the most critically acclaimed game of this series, ocarina of time, is entirely revolved around a time travel plot & the heroes would not have won if it weren’t for time travel in that game. yeah, it’s goofy, but this series is known for its nonsensical aspects & plotholes. there’s always some kind of unexplainable magic in this series that solves problems. i don’t think that makes this game shit. plus i was kind of starstruck when i first got to play as sidon lol. i was thinking to myself, man, who would’ve known 3 years later we’d get to play as sidon! crazy! none of the champion descendants were really my favorite to play as but it was still cool to see them & play as them.

something i didn’t understand was why kohga and the yiga clan joined zelda’s cause? i feel like a vital scene got cut. i don’t get why he’d join even when astor betrayed him, considering his group’s ambitions and how many times they tried to kill zelda. and where’d sooga go? the scene of astor betraying them kind of implied he was going to die but we never got confirmation of that, and he even shows up in a post game mission as an ally (no cutscene, just one line of dialogue during gameplay)

as for the ending, i guess it was alright? astor was a really lazily written villain and i just did not care for him at all. kinda don’t even care that we don’t get to play as him (yet, probably). calamity ganon’s design in this game was terrible. and i guess it would’ve been hard to make it work, but no beast ganon? just felt a little to easy to wrap up. despite this i guess it was nice to see hyrule get a happier ending even if it was a bit nonsensical at times. also this is just a bit of a personal thing for me but i liked seeing hyrule before it was destroyed. it always bums me out when you find a locaiton in game that’s been destroyed & you can only think about what it mightve looked like before. this is something that’s bummed me out since wind waker (was always disappointed you don’t get to see what greatfish isle is like!!) and breath of the wild gave me so much disappointment in that aspect lol.

one final thought but it was odd to me how many lines revali got & how often he interacted with link lol. was weird to see him slowly warm up to link a little towards the end (but of course he’s still a little mean...). no other character acknowledges link as much as revali. this scene confused me the most??

there were so many other people revali could’ve spoken to. he barely even acknowledges teba who was the one who specifically came to his aid!! and the way link looks at him with big puppy eyes?? link barely makes a facial expression at anyone else! and how revali expresses gratitude for the first time in his life after looking at link’s stupid cute anime face and smiles (but he turns around because he would be too ashamed to smile at link i guess)

anyway that’s it, i finally got out all my thoughts about this game. this went on way longer than i intended and i’m sorry if you read the whole thing & it took forever lol. this game is fun, get it.

#legend of zelda #hyrule warriors: age of calamity #breath of the wild #text #hwaoc spoilers

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

ipsum exitio (pt. 1)

a/n: for reasons explained here, this fic will be released in 2 parts! i want to thank everyone again who’s expressed an interest in this, and i hope that it lives up to some expectation. this fic is really big on introspection and includes a lot of arguably necessary exposition.

but more importantly, i want to thank @/a-kaashi (raenah) for being a huge support and my beta for this piece. she’s put in so much effort and thoughts into helping me make this into what it is now, and i can’t thank her enough.

plot: self-destruction is in the calm before the storm, in the eye of a hurricane. but when the forces are right, the winds are rapid enough, the catalysts send you hurling, you find yourself leaving a monstrous and disastrous path in your wake.

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, semi eita, iwaizumi hajime (in pt. 2), and male oc, w/fem!reader possessing vagina/uterus/uterine-system (other oc’s also included)

wc: 16.5k

genre/warnings: (+18) slice of life, angst, descriptions and moments of high anxiety, explicit smut (in pt. 2) (w/slight degradation, size kink, spanking, etc.) & virginity loss, alcohol consumption, talks about virginity and sex toys, slow burn, pining, implied bisexual reader

pt. 2

A breeze flows in through the open window of your apartment, softly caressing your face as you lean against the sill on your elbows. You drink in the view of Tokyo at night like a fine wine sliding down your throat, attuning to all your senses. With tear ducts dry and dust caked along the rims of your eyes, they shut in defeat, the semblance of a white flag splayed on the back of your eyelids. Cars honk in the distance and your legs struggle to support your weight. The scent of sulfur from the earlier downpour teases at your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch a bit as you openly take in the scenery before you again.

A nearby billboard flashes bright, mechanically cycling through advertisements and never resting. The LED lights paint a picture that you are all too acquainted with, even more so with the man in the frame. Your body is plunged into a lake of bitter nostalgia as your heart wrenches painfully. Instead of fighting against the resistance of the water and gravity, you succumb to the anchor dragging you down, knowing that eventually, the waves will recede, and you will return to shore again.

Inhale. Count. Exhale.

Breathe.

11 years ago

Shiratorizawa is and always has been a battle ground. It was a miracle that you even made it there, quite honestly. The pressure and the overwhelming suffocation of competition filled your lungs and lodged in your airway the day you moved into the dorms and attended orientation. Everyone seemed so tense, so on edge, clutching their folders and packets like lifelines while absorbing all information possible. A stray few seemed more at ease and relaxed, but to you at the time, that immediately sounded the alarms – to seemingly thrive in this environment from the very beginning could only be the marks of a dangerous but powerful person.

What became a source of comfort was the realization that everyone else felt equally as anxious as you, terrified of the hidden lions camouflaged in the masses. And each year, students crippled under the stress and high expectations – if you had to make an estimate, at least 83% of the student body would experience a breakdown during the time of final exams. But in the midst of all this academic madness, this debilitating drive to do more and reach beyond the sky, everyone found refuge in the school’s sports teams. Be it basketball, swimming, diving, volleyball, tennis – chances were someone in the top 5 of their respective sport within the prefecture would be at Shiratorizawa, and nothing proved more freeing than screaming your lungs out for the prides of your school.

Interestingly enough, you had found that liberation in the volleyball team, being able to turn off your brain with a switch and focus on something that had nothing to do with the filled pages of incomplete to-do lists in your agenda. Air batons in hand, water bottle by your side for the inevitable dry throat, you hollered and chanted with everyone else in the stands and watched the opponents surrender at the feet of none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A force to be reckoned with, a skill that was so beautifully and adeptly honed, you understood very early on the massive admiration for the boy. Even only at 16, Wakatoshi had the physique of a grown man, the severity of his complexion intimidating everyone within 100 meters of him. The terrifying force of his spike and devilish spin resulting from being dominant in his left hand left the crowds in awe. It was evident that the coach used this to the team’s advantage, and suddenly, you felt the burning desire to be on the floor. You wanted to sit on the bench, to see his movement from the side and within an envious proximity – no worry for stray balls, only the chance to witness something so athletically beautiful and magnificent.

And even though you were crushed under a mountain of assignments and projects, as well as a whole slew of mini-projects you had given yourself to make your life harder, you were determined to add this on your list. The lack of self-control in pursuing your desires was going to kill you in the future, but this was not the day. So you dove in towards the trenches, filled out an application, gave all the reasons why having you as a manager would be more help than harm, and suddenly, you were standing on the side of the court next to coolers of water bottles.

You didn’t bother hiding your adoration for Wakatoshi, always having had a bit of a soft heart for the strong, silent type. He was a boy of few words, and each one seemed carefully chosen yet also charmingly candid. Most, except for his teammates, were relatively terrified to talk to him, but he was always polite and thanked you for your hard work. Perhaps it was your constant vulnerable state induced by stress that made you more likely to develop your first real crush on someone, to search for a refuge of sorts. Wakatoshi always seemed to have his life together, and it became painfully obvious to the others that you had developed affections for the school ace. Satori teased you endlessly, going as far as scheduling a poor attempt at an intervention to get a confession out of you. Whether it had been out of pity or a relentless amount of pressure from peers (read: Satori, again), Wakatoshi, by the grace of something powerful, accepted your feelings. Nevertheless, he was very clear in pointing out that this wouldn’t be like any other relationship.

“When not in class, I am most likely at volleyball practice. I do not subject myself to public displays of affection.”

“I understand.”

“I will also likely not have time for dates. I am sure you are aware of this with our heavy course load.”

“Of course.”

“But I will try my best to reciprocate some of your feelings. I have no experience in this, as you might know, but all I ask is for your support.”

“That’s without question.”

“Very well then. Are you sure you want to continue with this?” He inquired, his eyes boring straight into yours to search for the answer.

Little did you know that your affirmation had signed a warrant for your soul, a revelation that would only unearth just thirteen months later.

Being in a relationship with Wakatoshi was easy. There was no need for all the overthinking of whether your actions would annoy him or not; or drive him away from you. If he had qualms about how you were acting, he wouldn’t bother with beating around the bush and instead tell you very directly, though gently as well. In the beginning, it was much easier to be quiet around him than to speak; the theme of your relationship would simply be ‘comfortable silence’.

He eventually became more relaxed around you with time, sometimes even voicing his worries and slight frustrations after practice while helping you clean up. Wakatoshi greatly appreciated how you were always ready to listen to him, despite the tremble in your muscles and dark eye bags from fatigue. You even joined him on his morning runs sometimes despite the fact you could only survive a small leg of it, turning back towards the campus when not even a fifth of his distance in. With advice from Satori, he had asked for more details about your day and your life in general, his brain filling in the gaps of the mental picture he had of you.

What once was a mere outline, roughly penciled-in of nothing more than your physique, the more he learned, the more colors he painted in. To him, you were shades of navy and gray with dashes of gold, emerald, midnight black, magenta, and rouge. The final picture was nothing close to artistic, but it lent to his understanding of your overall personality: unwillingly scattered, pained, anxious, yet determined and compassionate to a fault.

Procrastination was your best friend, you had told him one evening on a newly established weekly stroll, especially when it came to large assignments. You weren’t an organized planner – instead, you would let ideas stew and boil in your head, only mental images of the process and final result there until you couldn’t wait any longer to pen it down. Then you would pull nights of just three to five hours of sleep, running on caffeine and pure drive. What was even more frustrating was that you would find trouble for yourself, avoiding assignments by coming up with new unrelated projects that most definitely did not need to be on your priority list.

For example, if you had a presentation due in a week to discuss the 5 main themes of Great Expectations in front of your class, you’d first let all scenarios of it play out in your head. Then when it became too much, you’d go off and do something for the volleyball club that wasn’t on top of the agenda or complete a question set for the Math Olympiads club you were in as well. Considering those were more positive, productive digressions, other times you would pick up another book to read and feel the need to finish, download a new game on your phone, or scour the internet for cooking videos on the best ways to make hayashi rice.

What amazed (and somewhat alarmed) Wakatoshi was that you would pull it all together in the end. Not only were you balancing academics and extracurriculars, you were bearing the weight of your friends’ worries and stress on your shoulders with the biggest smile you could muster, casting aside most of your well-being to make room for theirs, as well as this relationship with him. Projects were still completed, assignments still mostly unflawed turned in, management of their team still in top shape, and being almost a perfect partner suited for his taste. All were held in stride, even if it was obvious to him that after major assignments were completed, you were either smiling less, saying fewer words, or stuck in your head more often. And he knew, as you had expressed one time out of exhaustion and beaten defenses, you were worried that you still weren’t good enough.

So the cycle continued. In waves and a whirlpool, Wakatoshi watched you unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, desperate to prove that you had a place in this academy just as much as anyone else. Time and time again, you had voiced your worries and doubt, and every time, he assured you that yes, you were worthy of your place here. You knew the boy never lied to comfort others, and he knew that you knew this. He began to grow displeased with your mental reservations, finally determining one March evening of your second year that he could no longer continue this relationship with you.

Satori, of course, had protested vehemently. (“You can’t just break up with her like that, it’s cruel!”). Wakatoshi failed to understand the social implications, ignoring the advice from his friend as he prepared for the routine, weekly stroll with you. When he slipped his sneakers on, his muscles remembered to grab his spare jacket as you were prone to feel chilly on these nights. It wasn’t until the end of the stroll when your nose was slightly tinged red at the tip and your figure engulfed in his jacket, did he hesitate at the intersection between the boys’ and girls’ dorms, and Wakatoshi being the blunt human he is, voiced his thoughts.

“I think it would be good to end this relationship,” he stated with no warning, yet felt a twinge of guilt when your face fell and froze into a subtle state of shock. He let you process his words, patiently waiting for your response.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breaths. But not too deep. Don’t freak him out. How do you stop freaking yourself out? Oxygen. Lungs.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, training your eyes to look straight into his right shoulder, tracing the logo of the ICS foot. Hell knows you’re not tall enough to see past it. “Have I been asking for too much of your time?”

“No.”

“…Have I been too clingy?”

“No.”

“Then…what’s the reason?” You shakily asked, tears of confusion beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“…you’ve spread yourself too thin.”

This time, it was only appropriate to look at him straight on. As always, there was no hesitation evident in them, his direct truth bleeding through his retinas. It must have been words that he had decided on long ago to describe your mental state.

“Please elaborate,” you softly demanded, subconsciously hugging your arms at the biceps.

“You’re doing too much. You think you can do it all, but you’re simply unable to. It’s okay, but I think this relationship is one more thing on your plate that you don’t need.”

But you heard it. You branded the image of his words in your brain and read between the lines, running on overdrive as the darkness rapidly ate at you. It was easy for the demons to sneak in with dubious tones, repeating the phrase that you had been fighting so hard to keep buried inside—

You’re not good enough.

Perhaps you had become a burden to Wakatoshi. You had turned into the thorn in his side, something he no longer wanted to tolerate and keep in his life. Perhaps it was expected, you bitterly thought while shrugging off his jacket. The bite of the cold night teethed and gnawed at your skin, but the pain was almost welcomed now. He took the fabric without a word, only feeling slightly guilty at the sight of stray tears gradually streaking down your cheeks.

“Okay,” you sniffled, arms wrapped around yourself again for some vague sense of protection. “That’s fine, I get it. You have Nationals and the Youth team as well – it’s mainly best for you to end this.”

“(Y/n) –”

“It’s really okay, Wakatoshi. I appreciate you being straightforward with me. I’ll see you at practice,” you quickly interjected and turned to trek back towards the dorm, sending a quick but lifeless wave behind you. The shards of whatever was left of your soul trailed behind you like scattered stars on the concrete. Even when your roommate and friend brought your disheveled figure into her arms, they did little to ward off the parasitic spectres in your mind.

You spent most of that night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep despite the exhaustion weighing down on your eyelids. Your thoughts refused to cease for just one second in its brutal beatdown on your heart, having played back every moment you possibly messed up on from the day Wakatoshi accepted your feelings to the time of separation. The questions began to plague the blood in your veins, your heart thrashing erratically and causing a cold sweat to break over your skin. Gentle, warning waves of nausea churned through your stomach as the anxiety effectuated into its more menacing, ghastly manifestation. You felt your breaths quicken out of panic and screwed your eyes shut – what did you do cope before? What could ground you behind the rails before you fell over the edge and into the folds of a dark ocean?

Deep breaths. Count. Breathe. Exhale. Start from 100.

Inhale.

Count.

Exhale.

Repeat.

You fell asleep before you hit 20.

You stayed on as the manager despite every ounce of your heart demanding you to quit and run, pettily attempting to prove Ushijima wrong. Satori directed empathetic glances your way multiple times for a few days, but you never wavered. There was no time to feel sorry for yourself or accept pity from others, especially as Nationals was right around the corner. Getting away from campus excited you and as much as the trip was about volleyball, the boys looked forward to spending a few days in the capital.

But the championship fell short, and soon, the third year began.

Your roommate was understandably concerned. On top of more rigorous classes and upcoming college entrance exams, you balanced your manager position, math club, an online job tutoring English, and yearbook duties. It was an absolute miracle that you found enough hours in the day to be on top of everything, and you were proud. This not only meant that you didn’t just peak in middle school, but it also meant that you could do all these things and still turn out great. At the end of the day, a sense of pride overwhelmed you more than anything – this had to be your way of defeating your anxieties: occupy yourself until there was no time to think about them.

The months rolled by. Your cycle continued. Shiratorizawa fell to their knees in front of Karasuno. You got into The University of Tokyo. Graduation proceeded without a hitch.

To your naïve, broken soul, the stars seemed to have aligned and the puzzle pieces were fitting. But to those around you, they could only watch as you fell deeper into the massive hole you dug on your own, dirt smudged on your cheeks and hands blistered from the wooden handle of the shovel. You were going to snap again one day, and it would be more painful than the first.

University soon gave you an adequate understanding of what exactly your personality had unfortunately become: self-destructive. At the time, you had only thought it appropriate to disregard your own health for those you loved (and there were quite a few of them) while balancing academics. That fault was one you had long come to terms with: that you gave away too much of yourself. Someone needed to rant at 1AM? Your phone ringer was always on at full volume (unless you were, of course, in class). Someone needed a ride to the airport? You were there, jokingly asking them to bring you back a snack from their travels as thanks. Someone needed to crash at your place for a day or two to get away from a shitty ex? Extra blankets and sheets, as well as an air mattress from home, were all prepared in the cupboard at your apartment.

As demanding as Shiratorizawa was, Todai stressed you out on another level, especially with your business major and computer science minor. On several occasions, Ushijima’s words had rung loud and clear, echoing in the chambers of your mind. “You’ve spread yourself too thin,” his baritone voice plagued you at the most inopportune times of the day (read: when you were attempting to balance, again, too many things).

And as much as you enjoyed the companionships of your friends, both old and new, you began to achingly yearn for a more intimate relationship that would allow you to collapse into comforting arms, especially on days that endlessly dragged you on your feet. The fact that it was only freshman year made your head spin, but nothing could truly deter you from your deepest desires.

You should have realized that this would only result in isolation with nothing but wooden walls, a balcony, and a shattered heart to keep you company.

7 years ago

“I agree,” Sayuri, a senior and close friend from the art department, affirmed when you expressed this romantic aspiration to her over ramen at a nearby izakaya one September night of your sophomore year. “Everyone’s so obsessed with their careers these days, you included,” she jabbed and pointed stained bamboo chopsticks at you, causing your shoulders to flinch and hunch back in some shame. “Buy some alcohol, give yourself some free nights. The only times I see you doing something not related to school is when I drag you out on weekend shoots with me.”

Sayuri was an expressive girl who took the world in stride and captured the streets of Tokyo with her camera like no other. The two of you had met in an interest organization meeting, instantly bonding over similar pastimes and your two personalities just clicked. She somehow embodied everything you weren’t, and you deeply loved her. More often than not, Sayuri was the one to keep you from completely losing yourself, absolutely refusing to let you become a mindless soul stuck in a business suit and wedged between the crowds in a subway, needlessly calculating away to gain more greed and wealth. “You’re too good for that,” she once told you when you had unexpectedly showed up at her door, drenched from the rain and your own tears caused by a string of unfortunate events.

(“You’re at your best when you’re a little more free, a little more relaxed, you know?”)

“But your weekend shoots are fun!”

“Which is exactly why you should do more other fun stuff!” Sayuri exclaimed before she took a sip from her bottle of ramune. “You know what? Tonight. We’re gonna download Tinder and tapple. You’re a hot commodity, and there’s gotta be some decent guy who’s down for a few casual dates. Hell, you might even have a better chance at finding another girl who can treat you right.”

“You’re not wrong,” you sighed. “Some men can be such pigs sometimes.”

“A-fucking-men.”

Sayuri rarely ever went back on her word, and much to your chagrin, you found yourself curled up next to her on her cream faux-leather couch. Her arm slung over your shoulders as she helped you pick out your best photos, including a shot she had taken of you when she begged you to be her subject on one of her shoots. “My professor needs me to practice portrait shots, please please please help me out here?” She had implored a couple weeks ago, and because you could never say no, you had grumbled your agreement before putting on a nicer outfit and some light makeup. You weren’t going to lie – those were some of the best pictures of you by far, and made you look much more attractive than you ever thought or felt.

A bio was set, photos strategically ordered, and you were tossed into the world of online dating.

“This is a really bad idea,” you groaned ten minutes later as Sayuri swiped through the profiles showing up in your pool. “I haven’t even slept with anyone before.”

“Oh honey, I bet half of these men only ever got their dick wet once and came in two minutes flat. They think they’re impressing someone but they’re only fooling themselves,” Sayuri scoffed and then grimaced at a man’s daringly shirtless mirror selfie. “This poor guy needs to eat more; I can see his ribcage! You don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate food.”

“What if he’s got an eating disorder?” You seriously speculated, heart going out to the possibility of that.

“Well now you make me feel bad after swiping left on him and – oh hey! You got a match!”

“What? Who the hell did you swipe right on?!” You screeched; chin craned to get a good look at the person on your phone.

“Calm down, you don’t need to worry! I have impeccable taste in men! Hey, don’t give me that look,” she cried out when she saw the questioning raise of one of your eyebrows. “Look, he was cute, had a safe bio, and he goes to Tokyo Tech! So he’s a smartypants like you! Guy must’ve been swiping around too for there to be a match this early.”

“So he’s just desperate and I got swiped right on for passing his minimum standards? Am I supposed to feel like I should be given an award?” You scowled.

“Just wait for him to message first. Keep it light and breezy, we’ll see if he’s suspicious later,” Sayuri waved off, continuing with her search for your perfect, laid-back date.

“But seriously, I’m worried some guy is gonna start expecting sex from me,” you huffed, leaning back to lay your head on her shoulder. Instinctively, she rested her own on top of yours.

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Makes me a little anxious, yeah,” you admitted, fingers fiddling with a stray thread on the sleeve of your old Shiratorizawa jacket.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well...I’m not waiting until marriage or anything. I’m not putting my virginity on a pedestal or anything, I just kinda want to get it over with, you know? I know your first time probably isn’t all flowers and rainbows, but I figured that I’d at least want to lose it to someone I trust.”

“So you’ve thought about this quite a bit then?”

“Have for a while, if I’m honest.”

“Name them.”

“But—”

“Names, (y/n). I gotta make sure they’re good enough for you.”

“They’re decent, I promise. I mean, I just know they’d never hurt me or throw me to the curb after it happens.”

“You do realize that’s the bare minimum, right?”

“Do you want names or not?”

“Okay okay, go.”

You exhaled as blood rushed to your cheeks. To say their names out loud made it much more embarrassing, especially since there was a high chance they never thought about you sexually before.

“Semi Eita, Daichi Sawamura, and…Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you mumbled the last name, knowing Sayuri’s less-than-positive feelings for the guy. She knew the entire history of your relationship with him, not that it involved a whole ton, but she was just overly protective of you.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi?? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Did you not hear the other two?” You squealed, swatting her with a sleeve that you had retracted your arm into.

“Okay, fine, but tell me about them.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Can’t.”

“Ugh, okay look. Eita is...he’s a nice guy. He seems a little rough around the edges, but he was always soft with me. Never gave me a hard time until he got replaced with another starting setter our third year, but he knew it was for the better of the team, as much as he didn’t like it. And even though his competitive streak got the best of him sometimes, he just...I don’t know. He’s dependable in his own way, stuck with me after the break-up and would check in on me from time to time. We still keep in touch a little.”

“Find me a picture of him, then tell me about the other guy.”

“Sure,” you agreed, tapping and swiping through your phone, mainly scrolling through years and years of photos you had kept. “Daichi-san is...well, he’s like if Wakatoshi was more emotionally available.”

“(Y/n), anyone is more emotionally available than Ushijima.”

“He softened up towards the end of our third year, okay? Cut him some slack, please. Anyways,” you cut Sayuri off. “I met Daichi-san our third year briefly during the Spring Qualifiers for Nationals. Extremely nice guy, mature, seemed pretty dependable being the captain of a team with some rowdy underclassmen at the time,” you lightly laughed at the memories.

“You’re really into the dependable type, aren’t you? Reliable? Takes care of you? Can relieve your stress at the end of a long day? Do you have a da—” Sayuri insinuated suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows until you finally interrupted her.

“Hey, there’s no kink-shaming in this friendship!”

“I’m just teasing, babe. Go on about Mr. Dependable” she giggled, causing you to roll your eyes as you continued.

“I saw him a bit more when I picked up a part-time job at a local convenience store for a couple months, only because I quit my online tutoring job. It was just before graduation, but he visited a few times. Seemed like it was closer to his house than the one he usually stopped at by his school. It was never busy, and he’d stick around to chat.”

“Oh my god, he was into you!”

“What? No! Like I said, he’s honestly just really, really nice. Did you know he’d buy his teammates buns every once in a while?”

“Oh, for the love of God, you had a crush on him, too!”

“Fine, just a tiny one!” You quickly admitted while batting away Sayuri’s excitable swats on your thigh. “But I was worried he was just some rebound crush, and he was staying in Miyagi while I was preparing to move here, so it’s not like anything would’ve happened. He was funny, too, and always asked about my well-being even though he didn’t really know me. Honestly, he was too good for me,” you said quietly and seemingly deflated.

“Nobody’s ever too good for you,” Sayuri comforted and pulled you into her arms. “I don’t care how perfect they are. If anything, you’re too good for them.”

“You hype me up too much,” you smiled sadly, holding onto her intertwined limbs. “I just...he didn’t deserve to get pulled into my mess. And it’s not just him – nobody deserves to. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone because I couldn’t get my shit together.”

“...even if you get hurt yourself?” Sayuri murmured.

Your silent, solemn answer spoke volumes. Life had turned you into somewhat of a martyr, someone absolutely terrified of inconveniencing others, yet relentless in your support for the important individuals around you.

“One day,” Sayuri started gently. “You’re gonna find a guy who loves and cherishes you to no end. You’re gonna get a taste of the love that you give to others, and he’ll never let you go. He’ll stick with you through everything, and you’ll realize that you do deserve that kind of love. It’s inevitable, really only a matter of time. And maybe he’ll show up when you least expect it. Just don’t give up yet, okay?”

“...okay,” you mumbled, tightening your grip momentarily as a tacit gesture of gratitude. “Sayuri, if we’re 30, single, and same-sex marriage gets legalized in Japan, can we get married?”

“Sweetie, we don’t have to do it in Japan, might as well just move to the U.S. and get married there. So yeah, sounds like a plan,” Sayuri agreed, half-joking.

And she knew you meant it, too.

6.5 years ago

You (jokingly) blamed Sayuri completely for anything that happened on Tinder afterwards.

Many casual conversations turned fruitless, never getting to the level of comfort that you felt you wanted to meet someone face-to-face. The search became more of a pastime than anything, and it became the same old, boring procedure. Reintroducing yourself and your interests for what seemed like the twentieth time existed like an unwanted pill you had to swallow every day, a habit done with a sense of boredom and banality. Sayuri called you picky, and perhaps you were looking too much into it. But you were allowed to have standards, right?

About half a year after your first night with Tinder, you found a person that you felt somewhat okay with. Ito Tsugumi was a junior at the Tokyo Medical and Dental University living in the undergraduate campus. He seemed respectable, understanding, and never made fun of your own interests and likes. The guy completely understood that this was casual, but he still wanted to meet you at least once, take you out for coffee or something and see where it goes from there. And that was perfectly fine with you.

March weather meant it was still pretty chilly in Japan and living by the ocean didn’t exactly help. You were glad that this was just a coffee date, because not only did it mean you could indulge in a nice cup of hot chocolate, but you also didn’t have to worry too much about how nice you looked because all of that could be sacrificed in the name of warmth. If Tsugumi was going to judge you based on your outfit designed for comfort, he wouldn’t be worth your time anyways.

Anxiety coaxed you into arriving at the designated café ten minutes early, shakily paying with your card and almost dropping it en route to the cashier’s hands. You spotted an empty two-seater along the back wall, but not right by the glass window where the frost would most likely creep through. Positioned in a seat so you’d have a decent view of the entrance, you sent a frantic text to Sayuri for moral support because your nerves were absolutely frying at the moment, to which she sent you a Sailor Moon GIF of Usagi throttling Minako before a message that read, “you’re a cute piece of ass and he knows it. flaunt it babe!” Rouge flooded your cheeks out of the embarrassment that was now mixing with the butterflies in your stomach, and luckily you fought it down when the door rang open.

If you had to be honest, Tsugumi looked more handsome in person than in his pictures, and that screamed danger to you. He only had to look around the café once before spotting you and quickly made his way to your table with a smile. While part of you had registered it as a bit of a Cheshire grin, you immediately dismissed it as a product of your paranoia. This was just a meeting with something warm to drink, right? There was no rule stating that a relationship had to come out of this. If he ever gave off a warning sign, all you had to do was run and never speak to him again. Easy.

You stood from your seat, almost entirely putting your weight on the table when your legs momentarily refused to cooperate with you. The grin on his face held firm as you bowed to each other in greeting and you couldn’t help but have a small one of your own. Were you flattered that he arrived five minutes ahead of the original meeting time? Perhaps just a little, but maybe you were sweating the small details too much.

“Have you already ordered? I can get us something,” he offered. Just as you were about to let him know that you already bought a drink, one of the baristas showed up with a large mug of hot chocolate and set it down with a table napkin. You quickly bowed and thanked them before turning back to Tsugumi sheepishly, gesturing awkwardly towards the white porcelain cup.

“It’s really nice of you to offer though,” you tried to appease. “We’re all broke university students anyways, I wasn’t going to make you buy me a drink.”

“I would’ve been more than happy to,” he replied warmly, a sense of adoration in his eyes that seemed far too intimate for just a first meeting. Nevertheless, his gaze made you avert your own to trace the swirls in your drink. “I’ll be right back,” he continued before leaving to order. Good, this gave you a few necessary moments to gather your bearings.

You needed to calm the fuck down. This wasn’t your first rodeo, though Sayuri would vehemently disagree. “Weekly walks around your high school campus don’t count as dates, (y/n),” she quipped in the past, giving up when you, for the thousandth time, defended Wakatoshi and his actions. And you had been very attracted to him as well, so what was so nerve-wracking about this now? Your relationship with Wakatoshi had held far more implications if things ever ended badly, with the same social circles and everything. Ito Tsugumi was merely a dot outside of most of your realms and possessed very little power over the important things in your life. Your focus needed to be on something else for the time-being, like the smell of ground beans with sweet traces of freshly baked pastries, or the faint coffeehouse music playing through the speakers, or the pots of devil’s ivy hanging from the ceiling. Just anything besides wondering if you had stray hairs out of place, or if your makeup wasn’t blended correctly, if your nails looked asymmetrical—

You had put on your best “I’m doing great!” face once Tsugumi was returning to his seat opposite of you. At first, nothing was said and the both of you could only laugh at the awkward shift in air. But when you spotted a faint shade of scarlet on his cheeks, you felt that you could let out a breath of relief because perhaps, you weren’t the only one feeling a little nervous.

Tsugumi was a wonderful conversationalist and an appreciator of comfortable silence. He seemed just as nice as he was in his messages, and when you went on occasional ramblings of something you felt passionate about, he listened attentively and always asked the right questions at the appropriate times. Even when you profusely apologized for talking too much the first time, he only gave you a blinding smile with his head tilted cutely before saying, “It’s okay, I like listening to you talk.”

And your heart was nearly set aflame.

Two hours easily passed the both of you by, with you discovering much more about him: He wanted to be a dermatologist, had lived in Tokyo his whole life, doted excessively on his mother who owned a little bakery near his house, had a good bond with his older brother who was working to be a pilot, was aware of the fact that he came off as a douchebag sometimes, admitted to some said stereotypical douchebag behaviors, and owned a cute little bobtail cat named Renji. Tsugumi eagerly asked for another chance to meet with you, promising that he would buy your drink no matter what. Is it allowed that someone even dares to match your view of perfection? Is he flying too close to the burning star?

You learned a few weeks later that you should have never given him the chance.

And what was absolutely infuriating was that you should’ve noticed it sooner. The sun he was reaching so highly for was not to become the perfectly flawed man, but attempting to attain something out of greed and selfish desires. He was abandoning any apathy for the people he drew into his sticky web as long as they helped him build his wings, and you fell for it.

(“I like you a lot, you know? You’re probably one of the nicest girls I’ve ever met.”

“With your history of partners, that’s not possible,” you laughed softly. “You probably met way more nicer girls, just never got the time to get to know them.”

“I’m serious, though. I think I’m pretty lucky meeting you.”

“…thank you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.)

With Ushijima, perhaps you had jumped in too quickly; so with Tsugumi, you made sure to maintain a healthy distance at all times. You were determined to take this slow and learn from your previous mistakes, and while that could have saved you a whole world of hurt, it wasn’t enough. Tsugumi wove you into his life by joining you on study dates, always doing his best to meet you at your university library instead of his, bringing you small snacks you had mentioned liking once or twice, calling you frequently when you were both free to check up on you and ask how your day was, and even dragging you along to meet his mother at her bakery. By that time, only three weeks had passed, and you had become (rightfully) concerned.

The gentle chime of the bell on the bakery doors had quietly alerted the matriarch of the Ito family of a customer’s arrival, and though her face had visibly brightened at the presence of her younger son, hesitation quickly crossed her eyes as they landed on you and the intertwined hands. Minute facial reactions could speak volumes, so you took that glance to heart as something to healthily ponder over, knowing that there must be some reason for it. His mother was nothing but polite, even gifting you an almond croissant when Tsugumi mentioned it was one of your favorite pastries. You desperately tried to pay, almost embarrassed that you were given something for free, but she wouldn’t have it and Tsugumi had to drag you out before you snuck too much change into the tip jar. But after you had bowed and had begun to wave goodbye, another emotion formed on her face and nearly caused you to stumble.

(Minutes later, you had placed it as pity.)

It all came to sense when Sayuri frantically called you the next night, strumming up every possible curse against “stupid, greedy swine in the form of men”, Tsugumi’s name laced between the syllables slipping off her tongue. You had immediately shut your notebook closed, trying to calm her down, “Hey, whoa, slow down Sayuri, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Holy fuck, (y/n), he’s got a fucking girlfriend!”

Three things crossed your brain then. 1) You were glad that you had maintained the walls around your heart, 2) Tsugumi was cheating on his girlfriend, and 3) you were unexpectedly not surprised that something like this had come up. Your dating life had started with a streak of bad luck, and you were pretty convinced that it would strike again, no matter what.

But that hadn’t stopped you from feeling your heart drop to your feet, simultaneously also feeling the breath get knocked out from your chest. Completely speechless, you spent a few seconds processing Sayuri’s words and quickly after, the anger began to simmer through your veins. In fact, you weren’t exactly angry that he had strung you along (due to your guarded, paranoid detachment) – you were more furious at the fact that he was probably cheating on some lovely girl, and even if she wasn’t lovely, nobody deserved to be cheated on. Not even a snake like Tsugumi.

You sighed. “Well, how’d you find out?”

“You said the fucker didn’t have social media? Well I decided to snoop because who doesn’t have social media these days—” “Plenty of people don’t, Sayuri.” “Well, with his looks and his past – again, it’s not a problem that he’s slept around, he can do whatever the hell he wants for all I care AND as long as he doesn’t have double standards – but I figured there had to be something out there. I found an old Twitter account, then found what I thought was his ex-girlfriend’s account but it’s actually his girlfriend’s account, and it turns out, he’s got a newer Twitter account he actually keeps up with. He thinks he might be slick, but the idiot didn’t even put his profile on private.”

You held the phone between your shoulder and ear as Sayuri spelled out the girlfriend’s Twitter handle to you, your fingers simultaneously typing it into your web browser. Another handle is listed in her cutesy bio, saying that she belonged to the owner of this other profile, and when you open it in another tab, Tsugumi’s face stares straight back at you. Sayuri was right – he had done a pretty shit job at hiding this. A cursory look through his tweets and hers, everything you needed to know was there.

She was a first year at a university in Kyoto who spoke highly of Tsugumi, tweeting photos of them two and tagging him quite often, and her friends all supported their relationship. It made you feel sick to your stomach that you had been spending time with a cheater, one who was throwing away a three-year relationship.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?” Sayuri asked through the speaker. You didn’t realize that you had been quiet for the last few minutes, so wrapped up in your thoughts.

“I need to talk to him,” you said quietly as your heart began to race. Confrontations were not your forte, no matter how much your business classes tried to prepare you to be a stronger speaker. It should be easy, like ripping off a Band-aid, yet the idea of calling Tsugumi up and telling him that you had to stop seeing each other wracked your nerves like an earthquake.

“Easy. Call him and tell him to go fuck himself, then hang up and block his number. He doesn’t deserve any more of your time.”

“I know, but…you know I’m not good at this kind of stuff. And I’ve never had to have this conversation with anyone before…”

“(Y/n). You used to manage a whole team of teenage athletes, and I know there were a ton of times when you had to put your foot down and get them in line. Treat this snake like one of them, get it through his head that he should burn in hell—” “Sayuri!” “—and then avoid him for the rest of your life.”

You sighed again and massaged your temples. That’s right, you could be firm, and with Tsugumi who you hadn’t been that close to, it should be easy to just let him know that the act was up. Yeah, you could do this.

“Do you want to keep me on the call?” Sayuri asked, her anger finally simmering down.

“No, it’s okay, I can handle this. But thank you though.”

“Yeah of course,” she replied softly, compassionately. “Are you okay though?”

“Well…maybe it hasn’t fully hit me yet, but it’s frustrating.”

“You can be angry, you know.”

“I’m not angry, I just…” you hesitated, searching for the right words to better describe your feelings. But without control, your throat began to close and choke, salty tears clouding your vision. You desperately tried to hold back the first sob with a hand over your mouth, panic striking your heart at the sudden rush of despair, but Sayuri quickly caught on.

“(Y/n)...” Sayuri cooed, her tone sympathetic and soft.

“No, if—if I’m angry,” you hiccupped, wiping your spilled tears away messily. “That means I cared, even though I told myself I shouldn’t have,” your voice cracked and heaved another sob as your heart took the final twist of the knife. Everything that you had tried doing to prevent the painful effects of possible disappointment were coming to crash down on you, and all for nothing. Sayuri held silent and let you cry out your anguish – she knew better than anyone that you just needed these moments of catharsis, to let all your emotions out before you would try to think logically again.

“God, I’m such a fucking idiot,” you blubbered after a couple of minutes, standing to retrieve a tissue from the kitchen.

“You’re not, really. You give people the benefit of the doubt and try to see the best in them. Usually that’s not bad, but…an asshole decided to come along and take advantage of it. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

“I’ll try but…fuck, it’s so embarrassing to think about it now. All the signs were probably there, right? And I just believed everything he told me,” you sniffled, setting your phone down with the speaker on as you blew your nose.

“I’ll be there in the next hour or so,” she stated resolutely, and you could hear her moving around her apartment.

“Sayuri, you don’t—”

“Don’t be silly, (y/n). It’s not a good time to be alone now, okay? You want me to pick anything up from that convenience store by the station?”

You had let out another mucus-y sniffle, eyes roaming over the cabinet door of where your snacks were. “…can you see if they’ve got a bag of that flower plum candy I like? If not, a bag of nori-shio chips, please.”

“Of course. Hang in there, okay? Don’t call or text him until I’m there.”

“Got it. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me, (y/n). And look…,” Sayuri trailed off and your ears caught onto her shutting and locking a door. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know? Especially if it’s me, so don’t forget that.”

“But—”

“I know you’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then there’s no problem. I’ll be there as soon as possible, will keep you updated. Love you!”

“Love you too, Sayuri. Be safe.”

Click.

Two hours later, with an opened bag of candy in the cabinet and an empty bag of chips in the trash can, sleep came to you and Sayuri in your bed, and you had never felt luckier.

Based on Tsugumi’s calling habits, you weren’t surprised that your phone rang on the dining table sometime around 10AM, the screen lit up with a picture you had taken of him at the library on one of your study dates. It amazed you for a second how easily your emotions could be flipped around, that this specific set of colored pixels had once brought you a tiny amount of fondness and only now twisted your face in extreme discomfort. Last night, you and Sayuri had run through all possible scenarios of why Tsugumi decided two-timing was something to engage in, including his possible thought process behind getting you involved in his life so quickly. At the end of it, two things were 99% certain: you were going to let him explain, and you were not going to give him a second chance.

“It’s like ripping off the Band-aid,” Sara had echoed your previous analogy when talking about your worries and hesitations in the confrontation again last night. “The quicker you get it over with, the better.”

“But it’s the ripping-off that’s the worst part, not what comes after. Tsugumi isn’t one to give candid, quick explanations either. He’ll probably try to get me to forgive him, which only prolongs the inevitable. So it’s…a slow rip, not the kind where you can bite your tongue and yank it off as fast as you can – and it’s more painful that way, too.”

“You’ve got a point,” Sayuri had huffed. “If anything, I’ll be here for moral support.”

She casted you a quick look over her shoulders from the sink where she graciously offered to wash the dishes from breakfast, and your pursed lips gave the tacit confirmation that it was none other than Tsugumi on the phone. One quick sigh later, you swiped the green pick-up button, activated the speaker, and answered, “Hello?”

“G’morning, (y/n)! How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied softly, wanting to stay calm and collected. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I was just a little worried since you said you were tired so early last night. It’s not like you to sleep before 11PM. Did anything happen?”

You discretely scoffed to yourself, hoping that Tsugumi hadn’t caught it. Sayuri rolled her eyes in such a dramatic fashion that you almost burst out laughing.

“Nothing much, I just had a really long day and felt kinda tired.”

“Well, I feel better now hearing that you’re okay. I’m glad you weren’t sick or anything. Did you get a good sleep last night then?”

“It was good, yeah.” But no thanks to you.

“Well, if you’re up for it, you wanna go out today? It’s the weekend and I have some free time before I need to start studying for our next round of exams. Did you want to check out that bookstore on the other side of the city? Or the Ghibli museum over in Mitaka?

“Ito-san, can you do something for me?”

“…sure, what is it?”

You quickly took a deep breath. This was it; this was the start of the discerption.

“Can you tell me why you’re cheating on your girlfriend of three years who clearly has no idea of what you’re up to?”

The chilling silence that resonated throughout the apartment sent shivers down your spine. Sayuri had long finished up washing and drying, and the only sound that was registering was the chirping of birds outside your window. Even then, it was faint at best, and you briefly wondered if Tsugumi had just hung up on you. But an electric rustle and a static sigh convinced you otherwise, and Sayuri’s expression morphed into one that simply signaled, “Get ready for the bullshit.”

“…so you found out then?”

“You didn’t exactly try very hard to hide it,” you quipped while crossing your arms.

“I know, I just…when did you find out? And how?”

“Last night, and how doesn’t matter.”

“But—”

“Why are you doing this? I know social media usually isn’t much to base personality on, but she seems pretty nice and definitely doesn’t deserve to have a boyfriend who’s been sleeping with other girls for the majority of the last eighteen months.”

“You don’t know anything!” He quickly defended himself, but not elaborating any further. “It’s just really complicated…and she’s not what she seems.”

“Okay, so let’s say she isn’t. If it’s been so bad dating her…why haven’t you broken up?”

“We never…got around to it, I guess?” His voice came out sheepish. At least the guy felt some shame in his actions.

“You’re ridiculous. Did you really think you were going to get away with this forever? Like what if I hadn’t found out?” You almost seemed desperate to know the workings of his conscience, simply because no matter what his explanation was, it would most definitely confound you. Were you being too simple-minded?

“I swear I was going to break up with her! I really wanted to – you made me want to finally talk to her and just end things –” This time, you made sure Tsugumi heard your scoff of disbelief. “—and I promise, it was going to end eventually, and I was going to seriously ask you out. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m serious.”

“Ito-san…if you did break up with her, would you have told me about it later on?”

“…no, I wouldn’t have.”

At the end of the day, his honest and unfortunate answer resolved all your doubts.

“I figured as much. At least you were honest with me about it and didn’t bother lying to say you would have.”

“I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to hurt you this much. You’re such a nice girl, (y/n), seriously. I’m so sorry and I don’t…deserve a second chance, but could we still be friends?”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you snapped at him. “I was more worried about how much you’re hurting your girlfriend.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah, and while you probably caught on that my self-esteem isn’t exactly the highest, I know that I don’t deserve to be lied to and strung along for the ride or for whatever game you’re playing yourself against.”

“That wasn’t what I—”

“You know what? Fuck being your friend, too,” you bit out, your anger getting the best of you again. “Nobody likes being friends with liars, and I’m not about to change that for myself, much less change that for you. Maybe in like, 40 years when we’ve all moved on with our lives and you’ve become a better person, but if you’re asking to be my friend now after everything you’ve done, that’s a firm no.”

“But please—”

“You need to fix this shit. Do you realize that I met your mom? And I could see it in her eyes – she knew exactly what you were doing, right? She knew you were still dating someone else, but you wanted me to see her for some sick, twisted reason. I’m telling you; I could see it in her face, and you know what it said? She pitied me, Ito-san. I’m sure she’s a nice person, but I bet 10 to 1 that the croissant she gave me was out of guilt, because clearly, I had no idea what was happening. You can’t tell me that I’m wrong, can you?”

“Oh god,” he muttered, and you almost hadn’t heard him with the blood boiling in your ears. “Yeah, she was actually really pissed. Lectured me for a whole hour over the phone that night, told me she didn’t raise me to be a cheater and stuff.”

“Well, I’m not going to repeat it. But whatever else she probably said, I agree with her. Get your shit together, honestly. It’ll do you some good,” you stated resolutely.

“We really can’t be friends?”

“No. But…look, if you’re in some sort of really toxic relationship with this girl, you can tell me, okay?” You ignored the incredulous look on Sayuri’s face, taciturnly promising that you’ll explain yourself after the call when she starts making large X’s with her forearms and mouthing, “Hang up!!”

“I’m not saying it’s okay to be friends – I’m just saying that if you’re struggling with something and need someone to talk to, you can…talk to me. But only if I’m your last resort. I know you have other good friends, so you can’t use this as an excuse to try and get close with me again. It’s not gonna work.”

“…Mom was right, you know? You really are too good for me, too nice.”

“I don’t know about that, but maybe she’s onto something. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t. Thank you, and again, I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry, (y/n). You didn’t deserve this.”

“Your apology’s accepted, but you’re not forgiven. Remember what I said: do what you can to fix it now before it all comes crashing down on you.”

“Okay. Then this is goodbye?”

“More of an extremely prolonged ‘see you later’, Ito-san. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Bye then – I’m sorry.”

“Bye, Ito-san.”

And before the boy received another second to delay the inevitable, you somewhat aggressively tapped on the bright red hang up button. Immediately, your shoulders slumped and fell back into your seat, a breath escaping your lungs as if you had been underwater for the entire duration of the call. Your eyes focused on the chipped paint of your ceiling, vision blurring as you begin to think back on the phone call. Was there anything you could have done differently? Had you been too soft on Tsugumi by giving him permission to contact you as a last resort?

“Yes, you pulled a ludicrous move, if that’s what you’re asking yourself,” Sayuri commented, her own arms crossed in front of her chest. Sometimes, she knew you a little too well.

“I was just trying to be nice,” you half-groaned and half-whined, bending back forward to bury your head in your hands.

“Well, what’s done is done, you can’t take it back now,” Sayuri said defeatedly, coming towards you to pull you into a hug. “If he’s smart and can take a hint, he’ll stay away.”

You returned her embrace as best as you could. The Band-aid was off now, wound exposed to the open air, but you knew it would eventually heal. The only remnants of it would exist as faint memories, the pain fleeting at best.

“I think we should tell the girlfriend,” you suggested to Sayuri. Tsugumi would probably end up extremely furious with you, but not only did you owe him utterly nothing, he never said you couldn’t say anything to her either. So with Sayuri’s Twitter account, an elaborate explanation, a link to a folder on Google Drive with screenshots of your text conversations both on and off Tinder (the ones that you’d have to be in a deep state of denial to think were untrue or simply taken out of context), you completed the task that no person would ever want to accomplish in their lives. As heart-wrenching and torturous it would inevitably be, Tsugumi’s girlfriend deserved the truth and the ability to take matters into her own hands. Had your positions been switched, you would’ve liked for her to do the same.

Hours later in the living room, you made the executive decision to delete your profile and uninstall Tinder from your phone. While Tsugumi might have been an odd, terrible, slightly harrowing experience in trying to start a relationship with someone, perhaps you weren’t ready for one either. You needed to wait until you were more confident, bolder, and had things locked down in your future. For now, any efforts toward desiring and developing a serious romantic relationship would be redirected to your academics and career. That stability had to come first in advance of your emotional needs.

When you expressed this to Sayuri, she gave you a look that seemed somewhat disapproving. Instantly, you began to curl in on yourself, doubt coiling around your heart. “Do you think I’m…overreacting?”

Sayuri shook her head as a small smile graced her complexion. “I can’t dictate how you feel, and if I were in your position, I’d probably be thinking the same thing.” Her eyes softened as she drew up her knees to her chest. “But you know what I said when we first started all this: I don’t want you to give up just yet. What if there’s a really great guy that comes along but you’re still trying to focus on your career? Are you gonna deny yourself and make it a missed opportunity?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, feeling troubled now. “I guess…he’d have to really be amazing for me to even consider it, you know? But who knows, I’d probably do something reckless and end up hurting myself again.”

Sayuri could tell that your anxiety was beginning to get the best of you, the doubts and insecurity once again plaguing the blood in your veins. This conversation had to be postponed for later – because now, your recovery was of utmost importance.

“You know what you need now that you’ve sworn off men for the next few years?” Sayuri started, her tone unexpectedly filled with mirth and suggestive insinuations. The Cheshire grin spelled trouble to you, and you were becoming afraid at what the answer was. Shakily, you humored her, “What would that be?”

Sayuri denied you an immediate answer as she abruptly bounced up from the floor, scuttling off to your room before returning with your laptop. Her fingers quickly pried it open, excitement rolling off her in bright ripples as she gestured for you to type in your password. As soon as you unlocked the device, she snatched it away and took over the keyboard. You warily eyed the screen as she pulled up an incognito window and typed in the website to Amazon.

“What are you doing??”

“Okay, (y/n), tell me. Do you know why sex toys were invented?”

Immediately, you wanted to melt into the ground. Not out of embarrassment per say, as you’ve had open conversations about sex and related topics with Sayuri multiple times, but if you were going to be truthful, this definitely wasn’t the first time she was trying to get you to buy a sex toy or two for yourself. There was no way you made it almost twenty-one years of life without having masturbated before, and you were okay with just your fingers now (and occasionally, your detachable showerhead).

“They were invented because people want to feel good. Do you know how many people on this earth have dicks and can’t figure out how to use them well, but still think they’re a gift to the world? I bet the majority of them couldn’t definitively tell you where the clit is, and I bet even more still think that girls pee out of their vagina. And you know what? Everyone deserves a partner who will take the time to figure out what makes them feel good, especially those with a vagina. Best way to do that is to find out yourself and see what works for you.”

“But I’m fine with what I do now!”

“Just please trust me on this one, okay?? Get a vibrator at least, please?? If you hate it, I’ll treat you to dinner for a week!”

You waved her off. “You don’t need to do that, but you just need to promise you’ll stop trying to talk me into buying more sex toys.”

“Deal. But I really doubt that’s gonna happen,” she sang, typing in a couple of words into the search bar. “I’ll buy it this time.”

“Hey—”

“Consider it an early birthday present! If you want to pay me back so badly, buy me our next couple rounds of curry don and we’ll call it even.”

“I can’t fight you on this, can I?” You asked dejectedly, accepting defeat and waving a white flag.

“Nope!” Sayuri exclaimed, absolutely no shame whatsoever in her voice. Instead, she sounds entirely elated that you have very little say in this, but in her defense, you weren’t exactly protesting. “Here we go – and we get that sweet, sweet Prime shipping. Yes, I know what you want to say—” Sayuri interjected when you opened your mouth with an objection. “Jeff Bezos is a terrible man who’s providing a good service but should distribute his wealth better, but I’m still on that free student trial? I know I’m already going to hell, but I’ll make up for it in the next life!”

There was never a way to stop Sayuri from doing what she wanted if she had her mind set, and this just happened to be one of them. A few more clicks of the touchpad and taps of the keyboard echoed throughout your apartment before Sayuri shut your laptop closed. You didn’t need to hear her confirmation that the deed was done, given the vicarious excitement stretched across your best friend’s face.

At the end of the day, this was Sayuri’s way of trying to comfort you, reminding you that she always had your best interests at heart. Your heart brimmed to the edge with sentiment and gratitude, causing your own giddy laugh to spill from your lips.

Life seemed to resume its regular routine afterwards, as mundane as it can be for a university student. Sayuri had you tag along on her shoots again, then you would return home to finish up some assignments and get your readings done, the lingering smell of dinner wafting around in the kitchen as you scrubbed a pan clean – truly, the only thing that seemed to be missing was Tsugumi’s incessant phone calls. But you had neither the energy nor the apathy to long for them – and Sayuri was right. If he was smart, he would know better than to ever contact you again.

You hoped for all your sakes that he would learn to rewire his brain and think rationally.

Present

It takes you a few seconds to register the rapid knocks against your apartment door, the rapping of knuckles against hardwood reverberating with a sense of urgency. Part of you expected this sooner or later, but you are in no condition to face the person on the other side. The rhythm shifts as the beating of the wood begins to sound more solid, signifying that the visitor is now choosing to lightly bang their fists instead of calloused knuckles.

Please leave, you weakly scream in your mind, eyes screwing shut to combat the oncoming tears. Your figure begins to crumple even more against the rail of your balcony. You can’t see me like this, so please go.

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there,” a deep male’s voice permeates through the wood, though muffled and scratchy. “Please, let me talk to you. I’m sorry, I—” He pauses, a groan of frustration escaping his throat. Your vision refuses to refocus, bleary as you weakly take in your view of Tokyo again. Without a doubt, the man must be ruffling his hair frustratedly, distressed and discouraged.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Please let me in and apologize properly – I owe you that much.”

You owe me nothing, silly. It’s my fault.

Eyes the shade of the earth in the billboard observe you, and you wonder: if seen in person, would they have stared with pity?

It’s time to stop running away.

So with sluggish steps, you make your way to the only barrier barring you from your fate. The two deadbolts slide back and click in place, echoing louder than ever. Your hand trembles in its path to the doorknob, faintly grasping the chilling metal and turning it until the latch pulls back far enough to let the door open.

And there they were, the eyes that held the key to your undoing, that had watched you crumble and fall, that had looked after you in more ways than you could imagine, peering straight into yours. You know them well, perhaps too well, and your knees nearly buckle at their intensity. It takes every part of your being to stop yourself from slamming the door closed, to hide away and escape destiny.

It seems that irises in the shades of olive will be the banes of your existence.

4.5 years ago

It hadn’t taken you much to admit it, but Sayuri was undeniably forgiven for taking the initiative to buy you your first sex toys.

About a year and a half had passed since the whole Tsugumi fiasco without as much as a text from him. The virtual silence made it much easier for you to do as you planned: throw yourself into your academics, prepare yourself for your career, and simply focus on anything else but the gaping yearning for a romantic partner. In the time that flew by you, Sayuri secured her own boyfriend, a charming J1 league soccer player who complemented her well. And even though it was obvious how smitten they were with each other, Sayuri always made an effort to include you in their dinners and hang-outs, so much to the point that you felt a swirling mixture of embarrassment and guilt for how often you were third-wheeling them. You had classmates and other friends to hang out with occasionally, and you weren’t one to always feel the need to be with others. You could handle (and frequently chose) self-isolation to refuel on social reserves – it was abandonment that scared you most.

As per usual for many business majors, you spent a semester overseas to broaden your horizons, basing yourself out of a city in Germany and tagging along with the other exchange students around Europe. New traditions and customs were learned, museums and historical structures explored – though one thing you hadn’t expected to return with was a new portion of your brain designated for the nuances of alcohol. Something that you hadn’t meant to care for in the past now existed as a part of your business identity; you needed to know the different wine glasses, the different brands of whisky, how to choose your drink wisely, which drinks are acceptable depending on the situation. If you wanted people to take you seriously in a world that prevented women from touching the sky, you needed to pocket the things that others would normally take for granted.

Part of you believed you were a better version of your past self at Shiratorizawa – while you were busier than ever, your time management skills had improved. That wasn’t to say that procrastination was no longer your best friend; it had leveled down to just a really good friend. You still possessed many of the bad habits in picking up unnecessary projects right before big assignments were due, putting a little too much on your plate, and working yourself to the bone to get everything done on time. The slight improvement existed in the form of less time spent on them, and you embraced this small progress.

And for many months, life existed on that continuum: Sayuri, friends, family, academics, and career.

That was until you received a seemingly innocuous text from Semi Eita.

A text from Eita was not abnormal in any way – as you had mentioned to Sayuri previously, the two of you had kept in contact over the last few years and remained friends. The text that appeared on your phone on a Tuesday night caused a grin to split your face, and all thoughts of indulging in some “me-time” were instantly discarded as you read his message.

[“I’m planning on visiting Tokyo this weekend and checking out a couple of things for the band. Are you free to hang out?”]

To your surprise, you hadn’t run into many of your classmates from Shiratorizawa, not that you ever tried, perhaps. So that might’ve been on you, but somehow it was much easier to stay in touch with your volleyball boys, despite their shortcomings in reaching for Nationals. You rarely visited Miyagi, and even if you were in the area, it was during New Year’s when everyone would be with their families. Without the heart to pull them away from filial time and duties, updates on your boys came mainly from 4 different group chats and the occasional video calls. Eita asking if you were available to hang out was a chance for a breather that you didn’t realize you needed.

With the adrenaline and exhilaration pumping through your veins, you tapped a response that probably seemed too enthusiastic to be you: too many exclamation marks and too many offers.

[“you caught me at a good time!!! i have a couple of days off before i need to start on my next project. it’d be fun to show you around!! and depending on how long you plan on being here, you’re more than welcome to stay in my apt!!! i’ve got an air mattress and a futon, whichever you’d prefer!!”

“Actually, that’d be really nice. Are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“of course not, semi semi!!”

“I never should’ve told you that you saying that ridiculous nickname isn’t nearly as annoying as when Satori says it 🙃🙃. But if it really doesn’t bother you, I might take you up on that offer then. Going to and coming back from Tokyo in one day is too much, and I was starting to look at cheap inns. This way, we’d have more time to catch up and hang out.”

“honestly, stay as long as you need to!!! like i said, my whole weekend is free :). there’s a cute little place nearby that serves great tekka maki!! i’m also not too shabby at making it either.”

“My favorite food homemade? Satori would be really jealous. And probably Shibaru. I can’t wait to rub it in their faces.”

“i’ll send you the name of the station closest to me, and then i can pick you up!!! actually, just send me your itinerary when you figure it out so i can plan.”

“Once a manager, always a manager. Will do.”

“looking forward to it, semi semi!!”

“Me too.”]

Still riding the high, you keyboard-smashed a text to Sayuri, explaining what had just transpired and how excited you were to see an old friend. At first, she was just as happy for you, until she caught on to who exactly was coming to visit, and immediately sent an “OH SHIT” text, followed by a number of sexually suggestive emojis. She didn’t have to be there to know your cheeks were now thoroughly flushed – in fact, you had been trying to forget the fact that Eita was someone you were trusting your first time to have sex with, and you refused to trip yourself silly to make it possibly happen. Last you remember, Eita had dated a girl for a small period of time, but that was about a year and a half ago and there hadn’t been much word from him about it.

The next few days passed in a blur – as promised, Eita had sent you his general itinerary, and while he was a working man with a band as a side gig, train tickets from Miyagi to Tokyo weren’t exactly cheap. Knowing him, he would attempt to take opportunities to pay you back for your hospitality, and you were going to make sure that this wouldn’t happen. At least, not very often. You made a rough schedule around his own that included lots of down time, if there was somewhere he wanted to go visit himself, time for you to make meals for the both of you, one or two movie nights depending on how long he would stay, and more.

The task was almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, that instead of sitting hunched over at your desk in Tokyo, you were back home in your dorm at Shiratorizawa arranging their schedules in preparation for Nationals. This realization of yours came in the very early Thursday morning, but as you began to recall more and more of your time there, you abruptly stood from your chair and shook your head. Not long after, you burrowed yourself under the sheets, phone playing your sleep-inducing playlist on the nightstand as you desperately willed yourself to rest and retreat to the dream world for at least an hour or two.

Then Friday arrived, and before you knew it, you were standing at the designated train station, bouncing excitedly in the arrivals section. You were excessively tipping your toes to look over the others also waiting. But amongst the incoming crowd, you easily spotted Eita’s signature hair color, the familiar hue of ash blond filling you with adoration, and as soon as he was over the dividers, you couldn’t bother containing yourself and bounded over towards him. With a duffel bag slung on his shoulder, phone in hand, dark skinny jeans, a casual pale blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up[GU1] , his reflexes were quick enough to recognize the human bundle of joy sprinting towards him. Eita’s best memories of you were in your Shiratorizawa uniform, so seeing you in casual streetwear threw him for a loop at first.

The earnest beam on your face could warm the iciest of glaciers, and he easily lost against the facial muscles fighting to form into his own smile. As you deftly dodged the other people in your route to him, his arms seemed to naturally fall open in a gesture that welcomed your inevitable embrace. Eita was pretty sure you squealed before jumping onto him, but his focus had to redirect to his arms so they didn’t drop you.

“Semi Semi!” You happily cried out into his ear over the hustle and bustle, arms tight around his neck as he held you close. He gave you a brief, affectionate squeeze before setting you down, causing your arms to fall. But his hands held onto your shoulders, giving you a quick once over and making his assessment. He always had a soft spot for you back in high school, knowing that it wasn’t easy managing a team of teenage boys who were ridiculously hungry and driven for a common goal. When news got around the team that you and Ushijima had broken up, he always kept an extra eye out for you and worried that you’d continue to work yourself to the bone in university.

But the girl before him seemed different: you seemed brighter, elation and happiness rolling off your body in waves. Your face was a bit thinner than it was four years ago, but perhaps the childhood features had matured over time. Additionally, you were a bit taller, though he still could easily see over your head, and overall, you looked somewhat healthier. He hoped that you were learning to relax a little more and take some more time for yourself, again very much aware of your past self-destructive habits.

Eita said nothing and ruffled your hair playfully, a snicker leaving his lips as you pouted and moved to resolve the new half-made bird’s nest. “Come on,” he chuckled, fishing out his phone to open Snapchat. “I promised Satori a selfie of us the minute I saw you.”

“Well, we can’t have him waiting, can we?” You joked back, hiding half of your figure behind Eita’s free arm and giving your best beam over his shoulder. Eita gave his best half-smirk, half-smile, knowing that Satori would absolutely eat him alive out of jealousy. He took one and let you take a closer peek, but before he could send it with your approval, you reached over and swiped to see what filters could be used. To make it easier, Eita just handed over his phone and watched you add silly stickers, his eyes resuming his assessment of you again. But it didn’t take long until you were handing him back his phone, giggling as he took in your newly formed masterpiece and scoffed while hitting the send button.

“Come on, manager,” he sighed, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you made your way to the exit doors. It took very little effort to drag you with him, not that you were complaining. “What’s the plan?”

“One second!” You exclaimed and tapped through your phone, pulling up the picture of the schedule you’ve made. “Oh, yes! Okay, how heavy is your stuff? Do you mind walking around with it?”

“It’s not much, just clothes and toiletries.”

“Perfect, I was really counting on you being a sufficient packer just like back then. We’re gonna make a detour on the way home – I need to get some groceries for dinner but there’s also this takoyaki stand near there that you just have to try! It’ll change your life, I promise.”

“Can I change my mind and say I want to go home first?” He asked jokingly, but that didn’t stop the narrowing of your eyes.

“You’re just saying that so you can throw our schedule off and make me suffer!” You accused when you spotted the devious smirk on his face, the kind he’d put up in the past sometimes when the ball landed just where he wanted it during a pinch serve. “Fuck you,” you cursed but with no malice at all, instead laughing at his antics. “I will leave you here alone right now and you’ll have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. Let’s see how well you do.”

“There’s this really powerful thing now called a cellphone, and it’s got this wonderful little app that can pull up the map of the world. Have you heard of it? It’s called Maps—”

“You’re insufferable,” you said as you shook your head and made a futile attempt to push him away from you. Eita either kept up with part of his exercise regimen or miraculously retained most of the muscle mass he gained in high school because the flesh at his waist refused to give in when you pressed firmly against it. All he had to do was tighten his arm a little bit to get you stuck against his side, and you knew you had lost for now.

“You lie, manager. Admit it, I was your favorite,” he teased.

“Have you always been this cocky? Just because you have a few people screaming your name during a gig doesn’t mean everyone wants you now,” you huffed.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t your favorite.”

“You’re wrong – Wakatoshi was my favorite.”

“Even after the breakup?”

“No doubt,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I still think you’re lying.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Eita-kun,” you chuckled, feeling quite comfortable under the hold of his arm. “Walk faster, I need to get the good produce at the store before it’s all snatched away.”

“Hey, I’m the one accommodating your tiny steps.”

“Take that back!”

Being with Eita was easy, to say the least. Old friends could fall in line together easily, and there was little to no awkwardness during interactions. He flitted around your apartment like he’d been living there for the past few years, and very few topics were off the table for conversation. You had become more open, a little livelier, he realized. If anything, his previous assumption of your current mental state was getting confirmed over and over by the minute – you were happier, a little more relaxed than how you were during the last year of high school.

As much as Wakatoshi was a good friend, based on Satori’s slip-up of what had happened, he wished you had been let down easier. It was more than a miracle that you hadn’t run away from them, but you were more guarded, putting up nothing more than a gentle, amiable smile most days. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you genuinely laugh at their antics during practice. Yet you were here now, sitting next to him on your couch and almost full-out cackling at some ridiculous anecdote of his about his roommate freshman year. Maybe your giddiness was amplified by the shot of sake you took just fifteen minutes ago, but that, yet again, didn’t stop him from understanding that things have changed a lot in the last four years.

He likes this current you, somewhat new and improved. More relaxed, more open, more easy-going…this was good.

“So are you still talking to that girl from a couple years ago? What was her name,” you muttered and started snapping your fingers to get the ball rolling in your alcohol-muddled brain. “Oh! Her name was—”

“—Yui?”

“Yes!” You giggled, leaning back against the couch and sipping from your third shot of sake of the night. “I remember she was cute, sad that I never got to properly meet her.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “Yui and I were more casual anyways. She ended up moving when she got a new job and we’d be long distance, so we broke things off.”

“When’d that happen?”

“Mmmm, about a year and a half ago?” Eita questioned himself, a little unsure of the exact timeline. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he confirmed and leaned over to the coffee table to pour himself some more sake.

“That’s been a long time then,” you sighed. “Anybody else since?”

“Nope. Things got busy afterwards with the national exams and putting the band together, so I just never really thought about it. But what about you?” Eita asked curiously – had you moved on since your break-up with Wakatoshi?

At first, you hummed to yourself, eyebrows furrowed in a manner that suggested you were struggling to find the right words. But then your face relaxed and morphed into a mix of mischief and embarrassment, small laughs spilling from your lips and he was wondering if he needed to start worrying.

“I did see a guy a couple of years ago,” you began while staring into your cup, avoiding Eita’s gaze. “You wanna know how I met him?”

“How?”

“I…okay wait, do you promise not to judge me?” You somewhat slurred and held out a pinky as a gesture for him to fulfill a promise. He nodded and linked his pinky with your own, interlocking then twisting so you two could stamp thumbs.

“Good, so the answer to your question is…yes, I met a guy. On Tinder.”

Eita wasn’t expecting that last fragmented sentence to come from you of all people and had been mid-sip during your revelation. It was a miracle that he didn’t spit out the alcohol all over your couch, but he choked and had to pound his chest a couple of times as the sake went straight for his lungs.

“Don’t judge me!” You whined, shoving him from the side as he waved off your accusation. A full pout formed on your face and you looked genuinely upset.

“I’m not judging, I swear,” Eita ensured over haggard coughs. “I just didn’t expect that – I thought you were gonna tell me you met this guy at some random place on campus.”

“Once you know the whole story, you’ll be glad he doesn’t go to my uni,” you scoffed before downing the rest of your cup. Eita watched you wince and fight the pleasant burn down your throat, preparing for the possible train wreck of a story you insinuated.

You laid it all out for him, from the very beginning to when Sayuri first got you to download the app up until the last phone call you had with Tsugumi. Eita listened attentively, grimacing, laughing, and frowning at all the right moments. He watched you struggle to verbalize the anger you had felt, the frustration from even being angry to begin with, and by the time you were done, you were exhausted. You simply stared back at him with a lazy, tipsy smile that contrasted all the defeat in your bones and attempted to hide your efforts in pretending that you had completely moved on. Eita could tell, though, that that was unfortunately not the case. The pain had lingered, and you were never going to forget…or forgive yourself.

He released a heavy sigh, placing his empty cup gently on your coffee table and grabbing yours from your fingers as well. Once both were away from the possibility of being spilt, he reached out a hand to you, wiggling his fingers as a tacit gesture for you to grab them. Whether your fingers had trembled from the excess resentment or some personal effect from the sake, the second your fingers interlocked, your eyes began to water. At this sight, Eita quickly pulled you to him with a strength you had forgotten he possessed, repositioning your bodies until he was leaned against the back cushion with your side cuddled into his frame – your knees bent and feet on the other side of his thighs – and one arm wrapped around your shoulders with a free hand intwined with one of yours in your lap.

Part of him had expected you to completely break down and bawl, but instead you released silent tears, occasionally sniffling and wiping them away with your free hand. He murmured words of encouragement into your hair, just loud enough to not startle you but to remind you that he was there. Eita instantly regretted not keeping in touch more, even if Sayuri kept a close and endearing watch over your well-being. But you were engaging in an old habit of yours, the one where you’d put up a strong front to not give anyone a reason to worry, that you could handle things on your own.

Maybe he was feeling a bit lonely as well. The alcohol running through both his and your veins certainly wasn’t there to aid in any good decision-making, and the two combined with your own emotions, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going for when he gazed down at you, waiting for you to look back up at him.

Your eyes were surely bloodshot by this time, and you could feel the tears slowly dry and crust between your eyelashes. Eita’s heavy, pointed scrutiny willed you to look back at him. Even with your slightly blurred vision and sake-addled brain, you failed to miss the way his eyes flickered down to where your lips were. Naturally, you glanced at his own with alarms softly sounding in your brain. This wasn’t a good idea, but you were two slightly lonely adults and if he wanted to…

Perhaps Eita had become a mind-reader over the last four years. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he leaned down at a snail’s pace, leaving you more than ample time to prevent this moment from ever happening. But it was undeniable that part of you wanted this, that at some time during senior year, you had briefly envisioned a few times what it would be like to kiss the setter.

Just once, to feed curiosity’s sake, to unveil the unknown.

Eita’s weakly parted lips were still, frozen when they gently met yours with the slightest bit of pressure. His shaky breaths faintly tickled your skin and you caught the whiffs of sake and something minty, the scent slowly intoxicating you. Something sparked in your veins, a slow tingle crawling up from the base of your spine, and you nearly shivered. A fragment of your brain registered the tightening of his hand in yours, a tacit and telling gesture of, “It’s okay. It’s up to you.”

You could resolve this in the morning.

You took the plunge, lips slowly moving against his to signal your tentative approval. Eita’s lips were as soft as rose petals, so tender against yours that reminded you of the full moon on a clear night sky. At every step, at every change, he soundlessly requested permission, whether it be with a cautious nudge of your nose with his or a squeeze of your fingers, and you granted the shift in angles, the slow repositioning for a position more comfortable. It hadn’t taken long for Eita to lose himself in you, wrapped up in this new, uncharted territory that you guided him through. He was more than satisfied with just kissing you, now hesitantly straddling his figure, at a comfortable, languid pace with his hands cradling your cheeks.

At some point, your hands had traveled to wound behind his neck, fingers lightly grasping the ash blond strands at the nape of his neck. When you subconsciously tightened your grip on them, Eita sharply inhaled, applying more pressure against your lips and causing you to lean back somewhat from the new force. He searched for stability by trailing his hands down to your waist, his hold tender yet unshakeable. Eita wasn’t planning on going any further, not when you weren’t completely sober to make a choice like that, but that didn’t stop him from scattering light kisses on your cheeks and jaw. Clearly, the alcohol had lowered some of his inhibitions, but not enough as his lips lingered over the span of your neck – his desire to mark your skin, to paint it with hickeys and signs of affection, would only unleash something darker inside of him, something that you weren’t quite ready for yet. Your heady breaths echoed in his ears and he felt you shake with temptation, your head subtly lolling to the side to allow him more room as a tacit gesture of consent.

Just one, he berated himself. Just one.

His nose ghosted over the skin from your jaw to your collarbone, catching the faint scent of what he assumed to be a mix of your body wash and natural scent. His senses found it comforting, grounding, and reminded him just how precious you were to him. You weren’t just a random girl at the bar he thought would be temporarily nice to make out with – you were (y/n), the girl who had watched over him and encouraged him during some of his most difficult times with a sport that was once his life, the manager who cared for him and his teammates to be nothing but their best, the person who the boys would unwittingly go to war for if anyone were to bring you trouble.

So he made that known, kissing the joint between your neck and shoulder, and reveled in the breathy gasp that escaped your throat. Little by little, he applied more pressure, preparing you for what he was about to do. His lips softly sucked on the skin, just enough so his teeth could graze it and nibble. Your hands were now fully entangled in the strands of his air, and as they tightened, Eita became more forceful and meaningful. You were entering a faint haze of ecstasy as he worked that one spot, determined to break the capillaries beneath your unmarked flesh and let the inevitable bruising bloom. He knew how beautiful you would look when he was done, and if he had your permission to, what a sight you would be with more littered on the rest of your body.

When he pulled back and deemed his work sufficient, he placed one last kiss on top of it before gazing back at you. Your eyes were half-lidded and hazy, traces of lust pouring into them as you struggled to even your breath. You knew in your bones that Eita was too much of a gentleman to go any further than this, and you were incredibly grateful. If something was going to happen between the two of you, you wanted to make sure that both of you were undoubtedly sober and fully aware of the decisions made.

Eita leaned his forehead against yours, stealing a few chaste kisses and rubbing his nose affectionately against your own. When he felt you were calm, steady, he made sure your legs were wound tight around his waist before standing from the couch with ease, arms holding you securely to his chest. His feet carried the two of you to your bathroom, placing you on the little counter space by your sink before unraveling your limbs from his figure.

Quietly, he handed over your toothbrush and squeezed out a small dollop of toothpaste onto it, repeating the actions with his own. The both of you tiredly brushed your teeth, somewhat thankful for the minty paste that would replace any lingering notions of the sake. But that hadn’t stopped you from staring at each other during the motions, only breaking the silence when foam escaped his lips and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny snicker. To which he only rolled his eyes dramatically, yet quickly held your gaze again as his own was filled with amusement and mirth, much akin to the look he had given you when you picked him up at the station earlier.

Minutes later, you two were tucked in your bed, facing each other in the dark. Eita tentatively searched for one of your hands, weaving them together once he completed this small quest of his. Little needed to be said as your blinks began to take on a slower pace, sometimes staying shut for a second or two before snapping back open. Your grip was loosening in his, but he felt he knew why you kept trying to get a good look at him, why you were unwilling to let sleep overtake you.

“Turn around,” he whispered. Too tired to question or fight back, you did as you were told, waiting with bated breath. Not long after you had done so, you felt the mattress closer to you divot just a bit more as an arm carefully snuck around your waist. You lifted your neck a bit to move your hair towards the side you faced so that Eita’s breathing wouldn’t be quite as obstructed, and he thanked you for the thoughtful action with a chaste press of his lips against your shoulder. The two of you adjusted slightly to ensure the position was equally comfortable.

Eita felt you considerably relax, almost falling back into his hold. His arm around your waist spoke volumes to you and part of him knew, part of him wanted to assure you that—

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he promised.

Because Eita knew that perhaps, you two needed to be reminded that you both weren’t alone, that there were people out there who desired both you and him; that the loneliness was just a blip in the timeline, and that eventually, your needs to be loved and appreciated wholeheartedly would be fulfilled someday by others than each other. You two could be good together, but the circumstances and other factors weren’t perfect. Maybe in another lifetime, Eita thought to himself.

And just as he suspected, that promise was all you needed to peacefully succumb to the dreamworld, with him following soon after.

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mbti-notes · 3 years

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INFJ (f) here. I'm dating someone (INTJ) who I briefly dated a few months before. I broke it off and he didn't want to remain friends. I realized after we stopped talking with each other that I liked him more than I thought. I reached out to him to express interest, and he was thrilled, so we started dating again. The problem I'm running into now is that the relationship isn't unfolding organically. I feel inauthentic. How do I stop getting hungup about this so I can be present and enjoy myself?

[con’t: I'm hungup about the relationship this time around (not the first time around), since I was the one who reached back out. My feelings were at stake. My goal became to protect them (control), instead of going with the flow, enjoying being curious about a new "mysterious" person, and letting things unfold as they are meant to. I was and still am interested in him, but this combination of lack of mystery and a need for control are tripping me up. Him pursuing me helps a bit.]

Understand that “power and control” are directly opposed to “love and devotion”. Thus, any time you want more power and control, you have less love and devotion, and vice versa. Therefore, the nature of any relationship is going to be determined by the approach that the two people choose - it is your choice. Which do you want more? Do whatever you really want to do, but understand the implications on your future self.

Right now, you are more concerned with protecting your feelings than nurturing love and devotion, so you are choosing power and control, which speaks to low level of ego development and the use of defense mechanisms to protect the ego. It isn’t your true nature to crave for power and control, is it? You already know what it’s like to be a loving and devoted person, and it’s up to you to make the choice to be that daily, bravely, resolutely. Or would you prefer to be alone in your protected feelings? Note that great relationship opportunities don’t come around that often.

Understand that power and control don’t make you strong, rather, they only serve to mask your weakness and exacerbate it - it is self-deception and self-sabotage. To be a strong person is to persist in the face of hardship, to treat problems as challenges, to learn and grow from mistakes, to take hurt and setbacks in stride, and to put things into the right perspective instead of being consumed by negativity.

The irrational desire for more power and control is rooted in insecurity. Perhaps you are afraid of being hurt, failing, losing, being wrong, doing wrong, etc. People who only know to approach relationships through power and control are blinded by fear, completely trapped by their insecurities. The only way to escape this is to release yourself from your fears and insecurities, through confronting them and resolving them - and it looks like this relationship is exactly the opportunity that you require. Life is always looking out for you, but only if you know how to pay heed to its messages. For INFJs, dealing with insecurities is related to Fe aux development, see the related tags and posts.

#infj #infj relationships #auxiliary fe #insecurity #strength #fear #ask

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quazartranslates · 3 years

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Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH70

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 70: Seed of Slaughter (IX)

It was him!

This voice wasn’t familiar, but after all, Qi Leren had heard it only a few minutes ago, and he clearly remembered that it was at the Quests Centre, the man who had met him once on the airship!

Why did he…

The answer is obvious, he came for his skill!

That magical resurrection skill of "bringing back the dead" displayed on the airship, that was why he came!

But he didn't know that it wasn’t a resurrection skill at all, but instead was still a bound skill, so it was impossible to give it to others.

At this moment, when a knife was being held to his neck, Qi Leren's brain turned quickly. What should I do? Hand over my skill card? No, this was definitely a dead end, not to mention that this skill is a bound skill, even if it was an unbound skill, who could guarantee that he wouldn’t kill Qi Leren after taking the skill card? But if he delayed, would he …

‘In this case, did you still want to use the S/L skill?’ Qi Leren's heart was cold. ‘Originally, I wanted to use this skill as little as possible, but it seems that…’

No, wait a minute. This man knew that he could revive with his skills. Why was he so confident? Wasn't he afraid that he would kill himself, resurrect again, and then kill him? He should have seen him move after the resurrection on the airship when he’d used it so that he could break free from his bondage.

"Hurry up, hand over all the skill cards!" the man said bitterly, and the knife at the back of his neck pushed forward. The blade cut the collar and plunged into his skin. A chill came from the wound, and warm blood wet the clothes and seeped down.

Qi Leren's brain, which was still thinking calmly, suddenly froze.

Blood.

Hatred.

Kill him.

It was as cold as a snake, some unpredictable and unstoppable force like a cold-blooded reptile, slithering down from the back of his neck, growing happily and greedily along his spine and skin.

"Ah, ah, ah-!" There was a shrill scream from the man behind him, as the hand that had been pressing on his back was suddenly bent by Qi Leren, and his fingers plunged into the man's belly like a blade, and the surging power on his fingers turned like a whirlpool, which exploded with a roar.

The tall, thin man's body flew out and fell heavily on the ground. The dark red blood flowed out of his blasted abdominal cavity and slowly soaked the ground along with the internal organs.

It was still flowing, it felt happy, but it was still not satisfied.

With empty eyes, Qi Leren looked into the iron tower standing not far away. The mechanical tower was three or four meters high, and the weather vane rotated in the evening wind, making a faint click.

Snipers lurking in the shadows at the top of the tower had already aimed at him.

Qi Leren smiled unconsciously, a cold and strange smile appearing on his face, which seemed to be an evil appearing in the embers of the setting sun.

A bang shot, a mercury bullet rubbed Qi Leren's arm, and didn't aim to take his life. It just wanted him to lose his ability to fight back. He evaded the bullet accurately as soon as he turned sideways. The next second, he moved like a cheetah, and rushed to the front of the iron tower with amazing speed. His hands climbed the steel frame and up the iron tower. The person on the mechanical tower waved a short knife in panic. Qi Leren grasped a blade with his bare hands without thinking.

Blood burst out instantly, but it made it more excited. It almost frantically manipulated Qi Leren’s body, as he wielded a dagger and cut the sniper's neck with one slice.

The blood shooting from the carotid artery was as beautiful as an oil painting in the setting sun.

Qi Leren, who was splashed with blood on his face, looked at the corpse under his feet with amusement, and the lifeless corpse twisted and fell from the top of the tower. With his death, the odd-shaped sniper gun disappeared with his belt.

Qi Leren stood at the top of the tower, and the roar of airships flying overhead was like the machinery running in a large factory. Looking from the tower, the whole of Sunset Island was shrouded in the heavy setting sun, and the buildings with high and low levels were built into a steel-cast city. A whole row of huge chimneys poured out white water vapor, which reflected a gorgeous rainbow in the sunset.

A gust of wind mingled with the smell of engine oil and poured into Qi Leren’s nose, and he suddenly coughed as if he’d burst a lung and sat down on the ground with woozy legs, which affected the cough with the internal organs and made his mouth full of the smell of rusty iron, not to mention the pungent scent of blood on his face.

The cold chill had retracted back into his neck, his reason returned a little bit back from the abyss, the pain of being cut by a knife followed.

It was terrible. Just now, it was like he had been taken away. Although his eyes could see, he couldn't control his body at all, or else he didn't want to control his own consciousness! They were all occupied by the desire to kill, and had killed two gangsters without mercy.

Qi Leren trembled and looked at his blood-stained hands. The warm blood had lost its temperature in the wind, leaving only bloody hands. He could still remember how he stabbed his hand into the other's abdominal cavity. The sticky touch made him feel sick, and then that kind of power exploded from his body, destroying his internal organs together.

Was this the power of evil?

Qi Leren, brimming with the feeling of nausea, took out a water bottle from his inventory and washed the blood from his hands, and wiped his face with a towel. The towel was bloodstained and shocking, and his palm, which was cut by the blade, was full of blood, but it strangely had stopped. He threw the towel on the ground in disgust, as if he could escape the reality of killing people.

After climbing down the tower, he still felt weak. It felt as if he had just used his S/L skill.

It seems that the use of seed would still bring a burden to the body. If possible, he should try to avoid using it, otherwise, he didn’t know how long his rationality could last.

The tall, thin man's body was lying on the wall, and the wall around him had been blown down. This sinister greedy robber had ambushed him with explosives, and he also collaborated with a sniper. If Qi Leren’s seed of slaughter hadn’t been stimulated by his own blood, he would have died at least twice now.

Did he want to dispose of the body? Qi Leren stood beside the corpse and thought, trying not to let himself think about the bloody scene just now.

"Hello," a familiar voice came from behind.

Qi Leren felt a rush of fear and immediately turned his head.

Al sat on the wall of the alley and looked at him with his arms crossed.

When did he come?! Qi Leren hadn’t felt it at all.

"You followed me?" Qi Leren's first reaction was that he was watched by the people of the Court.

Al's mouth twitched and seemed to want to laugh: "You think too much, we’re too busy to take care of your life or death."

He spoke impolitely, but this answer was a little reassuring to Qi Leren. He didn't want to be watched by the people of the Court all day long. He doubted if they would help him, even if they were watching. If he died in this simple predicament, it would only show that he didn't have the ability to judge, and Qi Leren clearly knew to never put their hopes on them.

I still have to rely on myself after all.

"So you were just passing by?" Qi Leren still had doubts about his appearance.

"That’s not it, someone asked for help from the Trials Office, and I just came and looked around here. It's you; you really do get into trouble wherever you go." Al looked at Qi Leren with great interest.

Qi Leren couldn't refute this. Just then, his eye caught on Dr. Lu probing around the mouth of the alley: "Ah, Qi Leren, are you all right?"

He was crouched like a small animal at the mouth of the cave, watching around with vigilance, and didn't dare to run out until everything was safe. At this moment, he quickly ran over and said, "Mr. Al? Long time no see."

Dr. Lu was obviously impressed by the young man he had seen on the airship.

Qi Leren wondered, "Didn't you leave?"

Dr. Lu gave him an oblique look: "Hey, are you too discriminating against my IQ? Just when you had said that the surrounding atmosphere was wrong, you suddenly had something to go first. It was clear that something was wrong. As a law-abiding citizen, I certainly have to choose the police!" Saying this, he gave a cute triumphant smile.

However, Al was not very supportive. He said with a cold face: "I am not a policeman, and the courthouse is not a police station."

Dr. Lu murmured: "Isn't it a different name..."

Al didn't speak again. Sitting on the wall, he leaned back gently and disappeared behind the wall.

There were only two living people and two dead bodies in the alley that was gently comforted by sunset.

"Let's go to my place, I’ll help you deal with the wound, and in the process we can try whether the 'Doctor’s Orders' is useful to you." Dr. Lu took Qi Leren's right hand, which had gripped the blade with his bare hand, and checked it. He found that the wound had stopped bleeding, and it didn't seem to have hurt his nerves. It wasn’t serious, so he simply treated him with his skill.

Qi Leren finally looked back at the corpse lying on the ground, resisting the desire to touch the "time-bomb" on the back of his neck, and followed Dr. Lu to his home.

The big bell tower in the middle of Sunset Island rang again, one, two... The thick bells rushed in all directions.

Near the alley where the accident occurred, Miao Li sat on a towering tree cast from steel, and looked at Qi Leren and Dr. Lu who left one after another and whispered: "The seed of slaughter on his body developed faster than expected. This speed is not normal."

Al, who had appeared beside her at some point, held his arm and said coldly: "Have you warned him to stay away from demon objects that will accelerate the growth?"

"Of course. Is it because of his physical condition that he’s developing so fast? Or did he have any contact with demons recently? Influenced by the power of evil? This can also explain why the probability is so low, but he got caught. In the eyes of Slaughter, he is an out-and-out 'fertile soil'." Miao Li rubbed her chin and suddenly remembered something. "He said that he knew Ning Zhou, but he’s a newcomer who entered the game only ten days ago. How could he know the Vatican?"

"He also knows people from the Village of Dawn," Al said.

"Interesting." Miao Li snorted, "But according to this development, the seed with mature within a few months. Do you want to help him suppress it..."

"Suit yourself. Don't kill people, Boss said," Al reminded her.

Miao Li shrugged her shoulders and said carelessly, "I see."

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#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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drax-is-inthefandom · 4 years

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What kind of father are you?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Decades.

That was all the time since the last time Kanjigar acted like a father to Draal.

Decades in which he only behaved with him like the Trollhunter, not like his father.

The change had been progressive.

It started with Kanjigar's refusal to continue taking him with him to his missions as Trollhunter, it continued with the rejection of training offers, the father-son evenings in the bar stopped, the interaction between the two became minimal. He even stopped calling him son, it was just Draal.

And he said he was fine.

He said he didn't care about that change in his father. But for someone who knew him, as she knew him, it was obvious.

His pained look was obvious every time he saw Blinky and ARRRGGHH!! go or return next to his father, the grimace of annoyance that formed on his lips when the sound of metals colliding in the Forge filtered to the rest of the Trollmarket, how his voice lost volume and strength every time he exchanged words with Kanjigar.

How he was fading, how je was changing, since his father decided to walk away.

She was fed up.

She grew up alongside Draal, grew up seeing his relationship with his father, their pride in each other, and knew firsthand how much Draal admired Kanjigar - She just couldn't stand idly by!

One day when she saw her lifelong friend duller than normal after a confrontation with Kanjigar, she felt his living rock burn like magma and decided to act, demand answers to what was happening.

Draal the deadly might not be one of talking about his feelings.

But Imah the determined was ready to show the fangs to defend them.

He found Kanjigar in the Forge of Heroes, training with Daylight against the mechanisms presented by the arena.

- Kanjigar! – The Pion called him just as she saw him touch the ground after a dodge jump against an obstacle, and she approached him without caring that the mechanisms were still active, she knew she could dodge them.

- Imah – The Trollhunter greeted her with a shake of his head, keeping Daylight on his back and heading to the controls of the Forge to deactivate it and not risk the minor in her walk. – Something wrong? You don't usually show a face in the sand by yourself –

That he didn't dare mention Draal as her recurring partner in the Forge increased the troll's anger. She sighed, took a breath and tried to cool her mind, it was a subject in which the fangs were better not to show them ... At least not yet.

- Yes, well, nothing happens in itself. I just wanted to talk to you, Kanjigar – Her tone of voice and confident gaze gave him the message that what she wanted to talk about was serious, so he disregarded his armor, leaving the Trollhunter guarded and showing Kanjigar instead.

- I hear you – The minor stood before him, staring at him, organizing her ideas for a few seconds.

- Why did you decide that stopping treating Draal like your son was a good idea? –

She didn't want to decorate the theme, or put a pink filter on it. She wanted to confront Kanjigar directly, so they could get a quicker solution, she didn't mind the reaction of surprise at her uncensored question, she wanted answers.

- Answer me, Kanjigar. At what point did you decide to stop being Draal's father? – With that questioning, the older troll's expression went from surprise to outrage in the blink of an eye. Imah did not flinch, that was how determined she was to get answers to his abrupt behavior towards her son.

- I will never stop being Draal's father, Imah – Kanjigar's tone was firm, serious and hard, worthy of an authority about to put in his place a subordinate who was just crossing the line.

- Then why did you stop treating him as such? – And Imah's tone was just as firm, serious and hard, worthy of a minor who was not afraid to confront the authority if she was sure that it was wrong – I am not blind, Kanjigar, nobody in Trollmarket is! Draal as if this was a Changelling that you were forced to accept into your home! – Kanjigar knew the minor's dislike for the Changellings, so their comparison made him especially unpleasant.

- I will not allow you to question my actions as a father, Imah, you have no place in my decisions, understood? –

Kanjigar hoped to end that conversation with that wake-up call, he was the Trollhunter and he was one of the trolls who helped raise the Pion in front of him, he hoped that that authority was enough to cut off the minor's insubordination, he was even ready to retire from the Forge. But Imah was not going to accept any of that.

- I take place being the only one who seems to care about Draal apparently! What do you think he is? Some kind of golem that doesn't hurt at all about what you do to it? – Kanjigar stopped his withdrawal upon hearing that Imah did not accept the conversation as finished – Draal is hurting! He doesn't show it because of his damn pride, but anyone who knows him well knows how he feels inside! He is hurt that his father is driving him away, it pains him to see the troll he has idolized and adored all his life walking away from him overnight! You're hurting him with your distance, Kanjigar! What happened? Why this change? At what point did your son stop caring that you neither look at him nor speak to him? By Deya’s grace, I'm sure you haven't even realized how much he’s been breaking his back to improve his sword skills because he thinks his current self is not worthy of you! What kind of father are you? -

The memory of the previous night returned to Imah. The helplessness he felt upon hearing Draal's true feelings at the situation Kanjigar put him in returned.

- Draal, did you sleep something? –

She had stayed up late looking at the books available in Blinky’s bookstore, she had concentrated so much on her reading that when she finished she expected to return home in complete silence, because she was sure that all the inhabitants of the Trollmarket would be sound asleep. . When she heard the familiar sound of metal against metal coming from The Forge, it was needless to say she was surprised.

Finding her lifelong friend training at such hours was not at all in her plans.

- I'm fine, just a little more training – The spiky troll was breathing heavily, a slight tremor in his arms as a result of the effort he had put into these was noticeable and even his posture was that of someone who was already having difficulties bearing his own weight . Who knows how long he had been wielding the sword he was training with before Imah found him in the Forge at such hours.

- Draal - It wasn't until she deactivated the training mechanisms and approached her friend that she could notice the wounds that he had all over his body. What kind of training was he doing there? - A little more nothing, you are going to stop right now and you are going to let me heal you whatever you have done to yourself –

Draal tried to reply and continue, but such was his exhaustion that it took only a light tug from Imah to remove the sword from his hands and an even more delicate push to make him sit down.

- Now what got into your head? Why are you training like you're going to fight Gunmar himself in the morning? - He didn't say anything, just looked away from Imah's worried eyes, the troll felt her heart shrink.

- Draal, please - She took his arm and took out a pair of crystals from the bag she carried on her belt to be able to take care with these of the wounds that the troll had around his rocky skin, taking special delicacy from those located near the crystals that decorated his body – If something is happening, you can tell me, you know you can trust me with everything–

She took great care, both in her movements to heal the troll's wounds and in her words to convince him to open up with her, but it was a matter of time before she could open his friend's heart.

- I just want to be strong, Imah – That was what he answered to the Pion, just after she finished putting on the last bandage on his body.

- Draal, you are the strongest troll in all Trollmarket

- You know it's not like that, father knows it's not like that. – The mention of Kanjigar stopped Imah's heart, especially because of the pain that Draal mentioned.

- He must have realized my weakness, that's why he no longer see me as worthy of acting like his son. – His words were full of darkness, a darkness that was reflected in his features, the only brightness that he deigned to show was from the tears that Imah was sure he was containing. – I will strengthen myself, Imah, I will recover my value in his eyes. I will be strong enough not only to be worthy of being the son of the Trollhunter. – Imah could not finish processing what Draal told her, she could not finish understanding how such a determined statement could be heard so ...

- I will be the next Trollhunter – ... Sad.

A stomp of Kanjigar returned Imah to the present. For a moment she had forgotten that she was face to face with him.

- Imah, protégée of Vendel, you are getting into issues where your jurisdiction is null and where your words are extra. Right now you are going to stop this unsolicited and misplaced criticism, and it is an order not only as Draal's father but as your Trollhunter. Enough. Already. – How she hated that he used his title as Trollhunter to impose his word.

- Well, I know very well what to do to have your precious jurisdiction – Imah's claws were shown and Kanjigar's amulet shone to the east perceiving the minor's intentions. Both trolls let out a slight growl against each other, just waiting for the next action from the other.

- Imah! –

Any possible result was avoided by the convenient intervention of Vendel, leader of the Trollmarket and guardian of Imah. His presence was enough to relax the posture of the two trolls present, at least enough that it didn't seem like they were about to go against each other's throats.

- What kind of behavior is that towards the Trollhunter, Imah?

- I was not dealing with the Trollhunter, I was dealing with Kanjigar – Imah's response and haughty posture earned her a bad look from Vendel and a snort from Kanjigar, neither were happy with her attitude.

- Kanjigar, I apologize on behalf of my protégé, whatever the problem may have been, I am sure it was a misunderstanding and an overshoot of Imah because of her bad temper – She was going to claim, it was noticed by how she opened her mouth, but Vendel's gaze was enough to silence her, even if she didn't want to. Kanjigar stared at her, deciding his reaction to what had happened.

- ... No problem, Vendel, she is still young, I can understand her behavior - A nod from the old troll and a snort from Imah were his answer. – But I hope this problem doesn't happen again –

She was not looking at his face, but Imah knew that Kanjigar's gaze was fixed on her. It was not just a request, it was an order. She snorted again, knowing that if she growled she would get into more trouble than she already was.

- If this has been fixed, I must retire, Blinkous and Arghamont must already be waiting for me at the Gyre. With permission, Vendel, Imah – And with his head held high, as if nothing had happened, maintaining his posture worthy of the Trollhunter, Kanjigar withdrew from the Forge, leaving Vendel and Imah alone in a tense silence between them.

- … I-

- You will explain to me right now what your intentions were, your reasons and I hope you have good arguments for not extending your punishment for more decades than I have already planned

- Sorry? I'm not a whelp anymore, you can't ground me!

- Either you start talking now, or I will start to consider centuries instead of decades –

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #trollhunters oc #kanjigar the courageous #draal the deadly #trollhunters vendel #imah the determined #trollhunters kanhigar #trollhunters draal #drax draws #drax writes #i wan on a imah mood #and i was on a kanjigar mood too #so this happened!#some lore for Imah #yes!

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apathetically-hopeful · 3 years

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5/18/21 Emotions

Emotional vulnerability has never been a suit I’ve been able to wear comfortably. My mind has waited for this moment for a long time, so long that it now feels like I’m reconnecting with a distant relative. It’s awkward, and at most times, unpleasant. When you’ve spent so long suppressing the parts of yourself that are rebelling against everything you’re trying to ignore; life gets messy quick. And it holds true, because my life is very plain and simply a mess right now.

I had another panic attack today. I’ve never really had these before; except on very rare occasions. Now I have them once or twice a week; and they are on a whole other level from the ones I’ve experienced in the past. I was finally committing to completing a task I’ve been putting off for some time. The simple process of unpacking and starting to organize my new space sent me spiraling. I’m not actually sure where it came from; if it was the unpacking or just some kind of mental dam breaking. Out of nowhere though, I began crying and felt like I was unable to catch my breath. It was a completely crippling moment for me; because I am not a person that handles feeling powerless very well.

Fair to say; I’ve never really had a handle on my emotions in any capacity. In fact the only control I did have over them was my ability to bury them deep inside myself; never to see the light of day again. But instead of letting my emotions define me and make me who I am, something much worse happened. I developed into a person that was so afraid of vulnerability and their own feelings that I turned into a manipulative and self absorbed monster. My need to live each day without feeling the weight or internal cost of my actions turned me into someone that could only pursue momentary happiness and fulfillment. When those moments had passed, however, I was left with a constant feeling of emptiness.

To fill the perceived void in myself, I did everything I could, except for everything I should. I would have nights on end of partying and indulgence, or make impulse buys, or just surround myself with distractions that would only leave me feeling whole for fleeting instants. When I wasn’t able to comfort myself with superficial bullshit; I’d become emotionally destitute and drag myself and those that loved me down into the bowels of my self loathing. Having next to no healthy coping mechanisms meant I was just destined to keep following a path that would lead to an assured destruction of self. As with all things that are inevitable; the inevitable happened.

I was going through life with an attitude that had zero sustainability. How can a person perpetually lack self worth and emotional cognizance, and somehow expect any sort of fulfillment from life. It was a never ending cycle of finding something to pin my happiness on and then having to eventually come to terms with my own lack of internal equilibrium. Now that I have hit rock bottom; I’m left with no choice but to face myself. Because I’ve finally started this journey, I find that I’m now forced to deal with everything all at once. The lock has been smashed off the cage where I kept all the monsters of my own creation locked away.

Staring all my trauma down every day has been the most exhausting thing I’ve ever attempted. Exacerbated by the fact that I am facing new and fresh trauma; I find that it’s all I can do to hold myself together from one minute to the next. My fears have shifted now though. What I find myself most afraid of is regressing to old habits of dealing with things both internally and externally. Unfortunately I’m not perfect and there is no clearly defined path to succeeding in my efforts.

See, I fucked things up again for myself just a few days ago. I got so focused in, on an external situation, that I allowed myself to slip into familiar habits for a brief moment. Luckily I was able to pull myself back from the edge in a relatively timely manner; but not before I had caused some damage to everything I’ve been trying to accomplish. Now I find that I’m paralyzed by fear of the consequences of my actions. I don’t know if what I did has irreparably changed the course of what I’m seeking. All that’s left for me is to hope that myself and those I affected can forgive me for my moment of weakness. If they could see the damage my screwup did to myself as well as them, then I hope they can understand that it is everything I’m trying to move away from.

Trying to balance on this tightrope is something that will take me a lot of practice. Falling means landing back into everything that made me so insufferable to myself and others. Fortunately, so far I have only slipped and been able to find the strength to pull myself back up. The canyon below is deep and perilous; something I’m not sure I could survive the depths of. That makes my only choice to move forward; to reach the other side of this great chasm spanning my psyche.

When you’ve spent so long avoiding anything that wasn’t immediately satisfying, it is easy to not understand your emotions. Navigating through an ocean of feelings that you don’t even properly know how to feel. I find that I am often confused, or even upset, that I can’t decipher what is going on in my head. My traumas, both past and present, are all laid bare in front of me now. Learning the way to proceed against them is challenging. But I feel that somewhere under all this madness and uncertainty is a part of me that is relieved; dare I say, maybe even happy.

I kept so much of myself locked away for so long that I think the part of myself that allowed me to have hope, to feel, and to understand had been imprisoned as well. Turning inward and dealing with one’s own shortcomings in life is a painful but necessary journey. I used to regret and blame everything in my life for making me into this person that I’m trying so hard to leave behind. But now I find that my only regret is that I never started traveling into myself sooner.

Letting go of these regrets has been like an anchor removed from the shackles of my soul. I’m only in the most infantile steps of the process, but I know that each day I find myself feeling a little more at peace in my own mind. I have many more difficulties on the road before me, and I am sure I will stumble again; but I’m learning the depths of my own strength and will. I am now taking a level of comfort in being able to allow myself to truly experience my feelings and what they are trying to tell me. I find that after a break down, before the tears have even dried, that the sun seems to be a little brighter and the air just ever slightly easier to breathe. Maybe this is what true hope feels like. Maybe I’m truly starting to believe in my own power over my emotions, without feeling the need to lock them up.

To those that I’ve affected: please know that I am facing all of this with nothing but sincerity and love. I’m sorry if you’ve been hurt by me along the way. My only hope is that you keep your faith in me, because I will not stop until it is rewarded. And I will press on past that point, because the journey of self is one that never ends. I just need to believe that somewhere along the way, I will not only gain everything that I want, but that I will be truly deserving of it.

Seize control of your mind and emotions. Find yourself on the other side of the pain. Love always,

Trevor.

#mental health #emotions #healing #therapy #hope #breakthrough #positivity #motivation #apology #forgiveness #writing

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funkymbtifiction · 4 years

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Hi guys! I I'm an ENXP and I was looking for some advice about knowing myself better. I saw the mods are ENPs and maybe you guys could help me. I recently noticed a pattern regarding my own actions that is basically ruining my life. I seem to rely too much on my Ne, specially about my future and my career. I'm ruled by a need of pursuing anything that catches my attention in a determined moment. I obsess over it for a while and then move on. I've changed my major 4 times now. Every activity I do is temporary. And if I don't find something I can obsess over I get depressed and bored. Anyways, I think this has led me to not trust myself anymore, since I can't commit to anything because I lose interest in everything and I'm always looking for new possibilities. I have reached a point where I can't allow myself to pursue everything I want and I have to make decisions and commit. But I'm too scared to become trapped and take responsibility for my own decisions. I think this would be easier if I knew myself better, but I don't think I know who I am besides my own random interests, which is weird I guess. How can I develop my own Fi? Or Ti? How do you guys deal with your dominant Ne? How do you commit to things? I'm 23 by the way. Shouldn't I have developed some Fi or Ti or something by now? I turned to mbti because I wanted to gain a better understanding of myself but holy shit this is hard. I could only recognize my dominant Ne. All this self analysis seems useless if I don't really know myself, I realized I'm not self aware at all. So anyways, as fellows Ne doms how did you guys developed your auxiliary functions? Any advice will be amazing! Thank you guys for everything you do here!

The first thing you need to do is recognize is you are an Enneagram 7 and all of this is ‘normal’ for them in lower health levels. To overcome this, you have to ‘grow up’ as a 7 and stop allowing fear of commitment or quick loss of focus from dominating your life. You have control over yourself, you are not utterly helpless to your whims (said the Fi user who has a moral tone of ‘you make your own choices and messes and you have to get out of them’ ;).

7s have to learn to be open to the scary idea of commitment to reap the dividends of hard work.

Read the 7 profile and see how allowing yourself to ‘run away’ from commitment (which includes not finishing or devoting yourself to any project) can hinder your life. Once you recognize WHAT you are doing, and WHY you are doing it, you can develop the power to STOP YOURSELF from doing it, or from allowing ‘excuses’ or fear to run you away from good things.

ENTP Mod. : Charity is right. Here is also where the judging functions come into play. With Fi, you can eventually weed out that which you aren't personally passionate about/ those goals which don't align with your personal values. With Ti, you can see a chain reaction of the patterns in your life, and determine the most effective path to help yourself using logic to streamline your processes, make it more elegant.

Slow the hell down. Force yourself to stop running toward the future and live right now. Repeat the mantra of ‘right now is all that matters today’ a 100 times an hour if you have to. Be present. Be invested. Bring yourself into ‘now.’

My co-mod is a 7w6 ENTP who suffers from a lot of the same issues; I will nudge her to offer her two cents to this post, in regards as to what she is currently doing about it. Basically, she had to talk herself into getting a permanent job rather than talking herself out of it. Once she got into it, she realized it didn’t suck as much as she feared. Her brain is her own worst enemy.

I had to talk myself into this job. I gave myself lots of reasons why I would love it. It might sound a little unrealistic going in with pre set expectations but at least you will not go in blind. Making a pros cons list is always a good idea. It helps to sift through your multiple ideas, and narrow down the ones which can really work. Test out the feasibility of your ideas, opportunities before hand. Talk to people, do your research. Just remember that things will never be as bad or boring as you think them to be. This is a cliche but something which helps me in the mornings when I know I have boring work to do is "Get up, dress up, show up. Never give up." Also it helps to live from day to day. Don't worry too far into the future, you never know what variables might upset your plans.

Work-wise, a 7 needs to travel, get the ‘high’ of meeting new people, and not to be involved in sheer detail-driven grunt work. They need challenges to work toward and obstacles to overcome. Pick a career that offers you all of that. If you do not, you will have a string of 6 months at ___ jobs that do not look good on your resume. Find a career in something that you feel passionate about, that offers some kind of mental stimulation.

ENTP 7 co-mod is an attorney who loves to find ways to ‘get around things’ in the law.

ENTP Mod. note: Always try to remember the root of your passion when you feel like defecting from one option to another. If you must leave, leverage what you have learned in one place and how you can dress that up to make your hopping about look good. That's what I did, and it worked for me. Some of the reasons I love my job are the constant intellectual stimulation, creative aspects of it, my love for criminology pays off, meeting interesting people. Sure there are sucky days when you have to deal with the bureaucratic demons. But that won't be every day. Unless your role requires you to do something like it. In which case I would suggest that you avoid picking up detail heavy, low Si or adherence related work which will make you feel miserable and frustrated. Try to pick something that plays to your strengths, improve your weaknesses. Compete with nobody but yourself. Every day you are better than you were, yesterday. Even with a little effort. It is important to not give up. It is so hard for 7s but we have the gift of rationalizing. So instead of using it as a mechanism to justify dropping things, use it to tell yourself why you should stick around. You as a 7 can make most things fun. So find little tricks and ways to make the work day fun. Whether it is achieving small, impactful targets or making games out of small, low stakes things. Also, having money and being able to live nicely is fun. Nobody is gonna pay you if they think that their money will be wasted on training you if your pattern is just leaving jobs. It took me a long time to develop this perspective but I am glad I did.

I (ENFP 6w5 sp/so) chose a career in magazine editing, because it gives me time to do what I actually love, which is write novels. I’m afraid I can’t give you advice from my own life that would work for you, because a 6w5 sp/so is far more focused and driven to finish their projects than a 7w6, which means I push through ‘the boring, tedious bits’ of projects regardless of how ‘excited’ I am. It’s not fun to edit a book 7 times, but I still do it. I force myself to show up to work, to sit there for 3 or 4 hours, and commit to X amount of words, pages, etc.

Do you think it’s “fun” for me always to keep this queue stocked, or to type up characters at the end of a long day because the queue is low? Or go back and update old profiles and move them from this blog onto wordpress? No. I hate it sometimes. It’s boring as hell. But I committed to it, I will see it through, even though looking into my “to update” folder makes me want to scream. I tackle huge projects one step at a time. I’m disciplined but I can procrastinate at work, rather than doing whatever needs doing.

Which really is the bottom line. You want to finish things? Just do them. Force yourself to show up and do the work, even if it’s “boring.” Most of life isn’t fun. Paying the bills isn’t fun. You do boring stuff to make a living, so you can have the money to do fun things. If you do not learn to do it, whether or not it is fun, you will wind up ‘stuck at home this month, because I have no money.’

That frustrates a 7 even more than being bored at work.

Accept that your fear of commitment is a fear-driven lie.

You are not going to get trapped by committing to something or someone. Head types massively over-think things and allow fear – in the 7’s case of “missing out” on better things – to dominate their life. Admit it’s fear. Admit that allowing fear to ruin your entire life is stupid. Then do something against the fear. Do the thing fear tells you not to: commit and work at it. Fight the urge every day to leave. Stick it out, and prove you ‘can’ to yourself.

Middle functions. You’re in college so you should be seeing either some Ti analyzing or Te “buckle down and set goals and get this schoolwork finished by the deadline” kicking in. Are you more inclined to self-doubt and beat yourself up like a young FiTe user after ‘failing’ to organize your time efficiently or to make excuses and blame external circumstances like a young TiFe user?

My Fi has always been strongly evident, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. Things that set off a NOPE response in me vs. the ‘rest of everything, which I don’t care about.’ The intense sensitivity as a child. The compassion for other people and especially for small animals. The understanding of emotional dynamics and how people ‘feel.’ The constant angst between caring too much about people’s feelings and being low Te blunt or rude when I’m having an off day. The ‘going away from everyone’ to deal with my feelings in private. I have always fiercely, Fi-ishly known what I like and do not like, and have no ability to ‘tolerate’ things that I do not like. Once, I didn’t like half the people seated at my table at a public event, so I shut down completely and did not say a word to anyone at the table for two hours. My Fe friend also hated them, but smiled and charmed them all. Lucky girl. She can fake her feelings. I can’t.

- ENFP Mod

#enneagram #enneagram 7 #enfp #entp #mbti #7w6 #entp mod

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chemicallydamaged · 4 years

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Recovery: The Stigma Of Struggle 2/2 (TW)

Please do not read further If you are easily disturbed or affected by mentions of self harm, weight gain, or suicidal behaviors. I wrote this to help someone feel less alone and share my experience- not to potentially trigger someone. Please be safe.

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I told my parents about my several-year long addiction to self harm, despite starting at the age of seven. I've never once been to a therapist, counselor, psychologist, or a psychiatrist. I mainly have scars on my thighs, but I also have them on my waist, face, feet, hands, hips, and so on. I have used needles, glass, push pins, scissors, exacto-blades, knives, razors, and whatever else I could get my hands on. It became an addiction before I even knew what and addiction was.

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(This is an unprofessional, messy rough draft that I wanted to post so you know i'm not dead. I may edit this sometime in the future and delete this lil message thingy.)

Suddenly, you become a liar- that's how these things go on for so long, that's how this cycle eats you alive; “I hate getting wet”, “I just get cold easily”, “The cat scratched me”, and so on. You do anything to protect this secret, this horrible fucking brain eating, exhausting secret- while also hoping someone would ask how you are, maybe ask what's going on, and yet you still lie to them. Help doesn't feel for you- help doesn't always feel like an option.

I always felt like everytime I cut, it was like shutting my thoughts up for a few seconds. I had so much swarming in my head, so many negative, screaming thoughts eating away at my brain, that I would do anything to relieve the tension. Everything irritated me. So when I got home, and all these memories of screaming parents and asshole students and shitty teachers screamed in my thoughts, I couldn't take it. For me, I convinced myself of two options; self harm, or ending my life.

June, maybe July of 2020. I haven't gone outside for a very long time, using covid fear as an excuse. I would be in such deep wallows of depression I could barely move; at that point I had gained so much weight I was scared of taking showers. I was scared of going outside. I was scared of eating. I used a group chat in one of my friend’s servers to get me through it, at least so I could socialize in one way or another. I wanted to get better, yet I was too exhausted to take the steps of recovery. I had tried to quit a few times at that point, only to fall back in. I would be taking a plane ride to see family (safely) and I was so fucking scared. It would be incredibly hot over there, I couldn't wear shorts, I was depressed, I had low-self esteem, and now I had to socialize with family I hadn't seen in several years. I was convinced they would be disappointed in me, I really didn't want them to be ashamed.

When I finally got there, everything had changed. They looked so different- my little cousin, who I remembered as a toddler, was now a kid. My aunts were more stressed out than I had ever noticed before. Some pets had passed away, and the area of town had become pretty run-down. I had always wanted a little sister, and felt like I missed out on a lot of those years- so I tried to spend as much time with her as I could. She was so happy and so energetic, I was so surprised to see that she was excited to meet me. She didn't care about how I looked or how awkward I was, she just wanted to do art and make mudpies and jump on a trampoline, like a kid. I missed out on water balloons, refusing to wear shorts, which upset everyone because I wouldn't be able to play. I took that time to lock myself in a bedroom and cry. When I thought of her ever doing what I was doing to myself, I broke down completely. I would have been self harming for a year by her age. I missed out on so much. To think that she could ever go through that terrifies me and shakes me to my core. She is like a little sister i've never had. I thought of my brother and how he would be upset, so see his actual little sister go through this the whole time. This is still hard to think about. This was my first kick in the ass to recovery. I was going to commit.

I came home in a lot of pain. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I kept impulsively grabbing objects, picking at my skin, biting my nails, and going fucking crazy. I was so close, so many times. I can barely express the amount of stress I was in, not being able to use what I believed to be my only coping mechanism ever since I can remember, knowing for sure I absolutely could not and would not do it. I had to fight with my brain 24/7 just to stay afloat, to have self-control.

Fast forward 4-ish months and I was finally about to tell my mom, but at the wrong time. The closest self harming behavior I had was skin scratching, but that was better than cutting. We had gone to the store to pick out some clothes and I was really excited about it; however, the closer we go to the changing room the harder my heart throbbed out of my chest. If she went in with me, she would see all the scars. We had gotten to the changing room, and she went in with me. I froze up, in cold sweat, and couldn't do or say anything. Just as she said “Oh woops do you not want me in th-” I broke down. In a grocery store changing room. For everyone to hear. She sat me down and comforted me, like a cool mom. I was surprised, I thought she would be embarrassed. I told her about everything. She supported me. I couldn't stop shaking, unsure of weather to be sad or happy. I finally said something. I was relieved. I finally did it.

My dad was less accepting after my mom told him first. Because he doesn't believe in “organized help” and instead believes you have to “get through anything on your own, because that's what I DO” It was probably a bit of a struggle for my mom to talk to him. He avoided me for a few days, until he was ready. When I had finally told him, it turned out to be ok. He wasn't happy with me but he wasn't pissed either so that's a positive. My brother had a similar reaction. A lot of friends didn't care. But some still did, and I'd rather have a few real friends than a lot of fake ones. Sounds like a bunch of hippie dippie Karen bullshit but I genuinely feel way more positive about this then when I first told my parents. I hope to get mental health help soon, although there are so many people trying to get it that its difficult to find a good therapist thats available (Thx c0v1d, u sur3 r g8 0n m3ntal h3alth <3). For now, i'm just doing the best I can- im still going to struggle, but that's part of life. Im happy with that.

This is only my side of the story.

Yours doesn't always have to be the recovery, but it can be the ask for help.

(2/2)

Hope your doing well, wherever you are.

#self harrrm #self harm recovery #stories #part 2 #tw suicice #tw #tw self destruction #get help #its ok #i swear #love yourself #please #or else #ill eat your face #stop reading these tags #stop

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counselingwith · 3 years

Link

You thought you knew pain but heartbreak has completely overwhelmed you. You can’t enjoy anything you enjoyed before. You want to start healing but you don’t know where to start and what to do. You just know you never want to get hurt like this again.

Eat, love & numb

Tackling pain is so difficult that most people avoid it by jumping into a hot new romance, or numb themselves with substances, food, work, exercise, or just by keeping busy. While this may blunt the pain, but if you have not taken the time to tackle the pain at its source it is likely that you will end up in a vicious pain cycle where you will date the same type of person with merely different names or date the right person but start seeing the same issues you were trying to avoid.

Paradox of pain

After a heartbreak, your natural defense mechanism builds necessary walls to protect you from getting hurt again. The paradox is that even though pain builds these walls, in order to feel deep love, joy, and fulfilment, in order to get out of the pain cycle, you must learn to drop the walls and try to love and trust again. It is very difficult to be vulnerable if the last time you opened up you had daggers thrown at your heart. However, if you can’t develop enough trust and safety to make this switch, you run the risk of staying in the pain cycle: You can’t succeed at relationships because you are worried about getting hurt, you get hurt because you can’t open up and give it your best shot, you get hurt so your defensive wall gets higher and stronger, perpetuating more pain and taking you away from love, joy, and fulfillment.

Rebuilding

As you pick yourself off the floor and start learning to trust again, this time around you cannot rely on anyone who can hurt you again. The reality of life is that you cannot control anything or anyone but yourself. This means that the only place trust should come from is ‘you’. The minute you start relying on people and things to fill that void and feel safe, you will set them up for failure. For example, if you start relying on other people, your work, or your success for your happiness, these things will determine if you are happy or not. In order to feel safe, you may start controlling others which never works and will only hurt your relationships. This blocks joy, creates confusion and chaos and makes you feel like you are on a perpetual emotional roller coaster. Here is what you can do to stop this craziness and take charge of your healing.

Be kind to yourself

Be honest about your pain. You did get deeply hurt, so have compassion and take care of yourself as you would take care of a young child who is hurt. Ask yourself, ‘what can I do to help you right now?’ and then get up and do it. Treat yourself as you would treat a jilted friend. If you have a good support system, take their help, but be careful of people who start taking over. Don’t depend on anyone. If you want healing and empowerment, the main work has to come from you.

Unsubscribe from perfectionism

Embrace the reality that perfectionism is ‘fake news’. It’s unachievable because it’s not real. It only causes pain and confusion and it prevents you from tapping into your real self where all the guidance and answers lie. Know that you are the only one who can hit the ‘unsubscribe’ button.

Forgive yourself

The first person you have to forgive is yourself. Organize your thoughts by making a list of what you hold yourself responsible for (e.g.: “I can’t believe I didn’t realize she was cheating on me this whole time”). Replace this list with things you would say to a friend who was beating down on himself. Write down statements of forgiveness: “I forgive myself for not knowing she was cheating on me”, “I forgive myself for not being able to protect myself from this pain”.

Let the past go

As you start to head towards healing and start recognizing what you did wrong in the past, don’t sit in anger, shame, or regret. Know that you did the best you could at that time, that those behaviors probably saved you from doing something more harmful. Respectfully let them go by saying, “thank you for helping me, but I don’t need you anymore” and kindly keep them aside. If you don’t do this, the guilt and shame will not let you move on.

Take Out the Head-Trash:

The forgiveness list gave you a pretty good idea of the head trash you carry that keeps you in a negative spiral. Tune into your self-talk. What are you saying to yourself? How can you connect with yourself so that you can take control of your thoughts and feelings rather than the other way around? Louise Hay’s mirror work gets you there faster and deeper, here is how I use it to help my clients:

1. Don’t Should all over yourself

Write down a ‘should’s list’ that has all the little things that gnaw at you as you are going about your day. I should _________ (lose weight, be happier, get over it). Now change word ‘should’ to ‘could’: I could lose weight, I could be happier, I could get over it.

This vocabulary:

Changes the mood of your self-talk.

Takes the meanness of ‘should’ out, it discourages perfectionism and thus allows creative thinking.

Calms you down enough to actually be able to tackle things on the list.

Reminds you that it’s in your hands and there is no need to be mean about it, you’ll get to it when you can.

2. Don’t criticize yourself and accept compliments graciously

After all, how can you respect and trust someone you can’t feel compassion and value. If you find yourself being mean to yourself (“Of course I dropped this coffee on myself, I had to mess things up somehow”), apologize to yourself with the same sincerity that you would apologize to a friend if you said the same statements to her. If someone compliments you and you undermine it or even put yourself down, apologize to yourself the way you would if you interjected with negativity when a friend was getting a compliment.

3. Show up for yourself

You cannot start relying on someone without proof that they’ll be there for you when need them. The next time you feel hurt, instead of calling a friend, reach out to yourself. Go to the mirror and ask yourself ‘what is bothering you’, and talk to yourself as you would talk to a friend.

You will find that ‘you’ are someone you can rely on, because no matter what you’ll find ‘you’ are always there for you. Say things to yourself in the mirror that you would say to a friend “Don’t worry, I’ll be there for you, we’ll do this together”, “I am so proud of you” or “I’m sorry I doubted you”, “I can see that this is hurting you, you are not alone, I’ll always be here for you no matter what”. Statements you always want to hear, but for the first time you can actually count on them.

4. Why the mirror? It’s weird and uncomfortable

Most of us are visual learners. It is much easier for us to tap into our moments of pain, fear, joy, and pride when we have the ability to see our micro expressions in the mirror. It helps us treat ourselves with the same courtesy and compassion we usually reserve for others. This helps us become better friends with ourselves. Once you have done this work in the mirror a few times, you can recall the expressions and the compassion when you don’t have the mirror as well. If you can’t get over using the mirror, for now, just do the rest of the work until you can get to a point where you can face yourself.

Warning

As you take on the task of managing your pain, please remember that this process is not linear. You can have a few perfect, strong days, then have a terrible day where you feel completely broken as if you have not made any progress at all. Expect the bad days so that when one comes you can say ‘I was expecting some bad days and today is one of them’.

One day at time

As you head on your journey, even though the random appearance of the ‘bad day’ doesn’t go away, it’s frequency and intensity lessens.

Get help

The chaos heartbreak leaves behind is very difficult to come out of, and if not done right it can lead to a lifetime of unwanted consequences. Share this article with your therapist and they will be able to guide you out of this turmoil in a relatively short period of time. Don’t let other people’s presumptions about therapy keep you from getting all the help you need as you tackle possibly the biggest pain of your life.

Learn more at https://counselingwithadifference.com

#children counseling #counseling #divorce counseling #couple counseling #discernment counseling #domestic violance #domestic abuse

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dungeons-and-divination · 4 years

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Oath of REDEMPTION PALADIN - Draconblood DRAGONBORN - Prisoner

I don’t necessarily have a love for paladins despite how much my characters usually end up being “spiritual”. But I gotta admit, I was kinda fascinated by what came out from his story and I wouldn’t mind playing him myself at all. I hope you all enjoy him just as much.

NAME: Zral’thid Benorax (52yo)

TAROTS

Mind: Knight of pentacles (upright) I wasn’t really expecting to get a card with so many positive traits linked to a character with that kind of background. Apparently Zral’thid has always been a person of common sense and practicality, someone that believes that honest hard work is the way to truly achieve your dreams. It made me wonder how he even got imprisoned in the first place, but don’t worry, you’ll found out about it later. I still had from this immediately the feeling that because of his very determined and loyal nature, he probably was doing something related to protecting other people most likely. It also seems like his time in prison made him even more committed to the kind of person he used to be though, like instead of breaking him, Zral’thid found purpose in the punishment. Very noble intents indeed then somewhere in there.

Body: Five of wands (reversed) This card just confirmed that impression that there was some kind of struggle that Zral’thid had to live through. It was something deep in his mind and spirit, so much so that he felt physically ill at times. Till he just exploded and did something rush, totally contrasting his practical nature. It seems his time in jail was enough for him to find peace and harmony once again. Where others might have surrendered to despair, he found a new balance, like I already mentioned, in his focus for order. I do feel like he also probably came to a solution to the dilemma that made him end up in jail in the first place, even if maybe it wasn’t necessarily a solution he wanted at first or particularly liked.

Spirit: Page of swords (upright) The tarot are being very good to me with all these confirmations of my impression going on here. Indeed, Zral’thid found a balance between his protective nature and the need to be patient, to wait for the right moment to act. He’s more vigilant, but he’s still the same man that doesn’t like injustice and always tries to be fair to people. He will always be inquisitive, on the hunt for the truth and a stickler to rules, but he’s also well aware that the justice system isn’t always right nor fair. All in all, he has this tormented, wise, loner vibe to him, but deep inside he’s just an overprotective bear that prefers to use words to defend people instead of a sword because of his oath.

Past: Eight of cups (reversed) So, I had already pretty much a good idea of what Zral’thid’s “past” tarot could have in store for him. I was not surprised when a card that expresses a deep discomfort with the status quo came up, then. I knew that he’d been kind of struggling with something but at the same time his instinct to follow the rules was probably holding him back from acting of whatever the problem was. Yet, this card adds a layer of fear for the uncertainty that lies within the change that his actions might have brought were he to actually succeed. I felt like I needed to clear a bit where this fear might have come from, and the deck gave me a Four of swords reversed. Which made me even more confused for a moment. Then I remembered that one of the meanings of this card is losing faith, and I can see him crumbling under the pressure of whatever situation he was dealing with and losing the righteous path he’d been following, especially if he felt like there was a lack of support or deceitfulness around him. Maybe not a lack of faith in his deity, but on something else then.

Present: Six of cups (upright) It just makes sense that after that big hit from the “past” tarot he gets something related to nostalgia of better times. Yet, Zral’this is well aware that he remembers them as good times cause he did not know, at the time, of the deceitfulness around him. So, like I said previously, despite his facade of the loner wolf, he actually craves the company of a new family so that he can leave behind that homesickness for a home that he knows he doesn’t belong to anymore. Very, very fitting indeed.

Future: Four of pentacles (reversed) I’m so happy that this is the last tarot for him. A hopeful ending after such a hard life is just what Zral’this deserves honestly. So, I really hope that he in fact has the chance to let go of the past, that he stops regretting not being able to do more for his people. But especially, that he realizes that he absolutely can’t control what happens to others, and that he can only do so much to save the world when it crumbles around him. As a general suggestion on how to play him, I’m pretty sure I said enough already, but in case it wasn’t obvious, I’d say have him be slow to trust the people in the party, especially those that like to lie a lot. He’s not necessarily gonna be confrontational with them; actually, he’s probably just gonna be quiet most of the time. Just, I imagine him being able to open up at first only with those that are more open and friendly with him in the first place.

FULL BACKSTORY

Zral’this was born in the house of family friends. By the time he was born, his father, Galxer, had already been executed for treason and his mother, Praam’teth, was still a member of the same rebellion group his father had been part of. It wasn’t long after his birth before his mother had to flee the Realm and leave him behind to avoid being executed herself. (The rebellion was trying to get rid of the people that had forcibly taken power of the Realm he was born into.) With no other family left to raise him and none of his mother’s friends left in town to help him (since they all were put to death or had to go into hiding), Zral’this ended up in an orphanage, where he was raised to despise his own family and believe in the laws of the new established power. It wasn’t a happy childhood, but the orphanage was basically a preparatory school before he was allowed to join a true military academy. So it was pretty much a given that when he reached the right age he started to train to become part of the Realm’s army. Being part of the military, despite how unimportant he was all in all, made Zral’this have a taste of the corruption he had vague memories of his mother and her friends talking about it all before he “moved” to the orphanage. Despite how much Zral’this hated himself for doing it, he started giving information of what he overheard to someone that approached him once they recognized him as Praam’s son and they presented themselves as an old friend of his mother. It wasn’t long before Zral’this was found out for giving information to a newly reformed rebellion group. Despite his crime, it was decided that he was just to spend some time in jail instead of being put to death, in hopes that he would see his mistakes and return to his service of the Realm. Apparently, one of his superiors saw some potential in him and believed he could make a good general out of him, with enough time. In prison, Zral’this had time to reflect on how wrong he had been to trust the Realm; just because the people in it had shown some mercy in raising him, it didn’t mean that everything they did was right. Actually, it was mainly the contrary. He’d just been a pawn, like many others before him and many more would become if nothing changed. With that realization, came the calling of a greater purpose, the growing knowledge that sometimes the better course of action is in fact not action, but waiting for the right moment or the right word placed in front of the right person. But most of all, he wanted redemption, not for himself, but for the people he hurt while following a leader that aimed only to hurt and manipulate their people instead of serving them. So, Zral’this promised himself, and the god that started to guide him, that he would make the world a less violent place with each world he uttered once he got released from jail.

SUGGESTION CORNER

Suggested features Ability scores: High Charisma and Strength, Low Constitution (I know, I don’t really think a lot of players would actually do this. Cause it’s not really a good thing to do mechanic wise. But sometimes you gotta do these things just for the sake of it. It was my first instinct.) Skill proficiencies: Athletics, Religion; replace Deception from the Prisoner Background with Persuasion (discuss it with your DM, obviously). Gaming set proficiencies: Cards or Chess Other: his Ex-Convict feature can seem a little bit in conflict with his backstory. But it’s actually not. Once again, a little bit of rephrasing, and everything is fixed. Instead of knowing people that accept bribes or having a chance to find shelter with criminals, he knows guards that are lenient because they don’t really like the people in power, or he might have an idea of where to look for groups of rebels that are organizing uprisings against tyrannical people in power. Give it a little bit of a flavor with the help and approval of your DM.

Suggested Characteristics Trait: I hoard information, you never know what may come in handy. Ideal: I never betray those who trust me. Bond: I will not rest while others suffer fates similar to mine. (This is referencing unjust imprisonment and unjust laws.) Flaw: I hate lying. If the choice is between dying and lying, I just might choose dying.

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qqueenofhades · 5 years

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Do you think society as a whole understands and values history? I don’t think they do. And I don’t understand why.

HoooooWEEEEEE, anon. What follows is a good old Hilary History Rant ™, but let me hasten to assure you that none of it is directed at you. It just means that this is a topic on which I have many feelings, and a lot of frustration, and it gets at the heart of many things which are wrong with our society, and the way in which I try to deal with this as an academic and a teacher. So…. yeah.

In short: you’re absolutely right. Society as a whole could give exactly dick about understanding and valuing history, especially right now. Though let me rephrase that: they could give exactly dick about understanding and valuing any history that does not reinforce and pander to their preferred worldview, belief system, or conception of reality. The human race has always had an amazing ability to not give a shit about huge problems as long as they won’t kill us right now (see: climate change) and in one sense, that has allowed us to survive and evolve and become an advanced species. You have to compartmentalize and solve one problem at a time rather than get stuck in abstracts, so in that way, it is a positive trait. However, we are faced with a 21st century where the planet is actively burning alive, late-stage capitalism has become so functionally embedded in every facet of our society that our public values, civic religion, and moral compass (or lack thereof) is structured around consumerism and who it benefits (the 1% of billionaire CEOs), and any comfortable myths of historical progress have been blown apart by the worldwide backslide into right-wing authoritarianism, xenophobia, nationalism, racism, and other such things. In a way, this was a reaction to 9/11, which changed the complacent late-20th century mindset of the West in ways that we really cannot fathom or overstate. But it’s also a clarion call that something is very, very wrong here, and the structural and systemic explanations that historians provide for these kinds of events are never what anyone wants to hear.

Think about it this way. The world is currently, objectively speaking, producing more material resources, wealth, food, etc than at any point before, thanks to the effects of globalism, the industrial and information revolutions, mass mechanizing, and so on. There really isn’t a “shortage” of things. Except for the fact that the distribution of these resources is so insanely unequal, and wildly disproportionate amounts of wealth have been concentrated in a few private hands, which then use the law (and the law is a tool of the powerful to protect power) to make sure that it’s never redistributed. This is why Reaganism and “supply-side”, aka “trickle-down” economics, is such bullshit: it presupposes that billionaires will, if you enable them to make as many billions as possible without regulation, altruistically sow that largess among the working class. This never happens, because obviously. (Sidenote: remember those extravagant pledges of billions of euros to repair Notre Dame from like 3 or 4 French billionaires? Apparently they have paid… exactly not one cent toward renovations, and the money has come instead from the Friends of Notre Dame funded by private individuals. Yep, not even for the goddamn cause célèbre of the “we don’t give a shit about history” architectural casualties could they actually pay up. Eat! The! Rich!…. anyway.)

However, the fact is that you need to produce narratives to justify this kind of exploitation and inequality, and make them convincing enough that the people who are being fucked over will actively repeat and promote these narratives and be fiercely vested in their protection. Think of the way white American working-class voters will happily blame minorities, immigrants, Non-Murkan People, etc for their struggles, rather than the fact of said rampant economic cronyism and oligarchy. These working-class voters will love the politicians who give them someone to blame (see: Trump), especially when that someone is an Other around whom collective systems of discrimination and oppression have historically operated. Women, people of color, religious minorities/non-Western religions, LGBT people, immigrants, etc, etc…. all these have historically not had such a great time in the capitalist Christian West, which is the predominant paradigm organizing society today. You can’t understand why society doesn’t value history until you realize that the people who benefit from this system aren’t keen on having its flaws pointed out. They don’t want the masses to have a historical education if that historical education is going to actually be used. They would rather teach them the simplistic rah-rah quasi-fictional narrative of the past that makes everyone feel good, and call it a day.

The classic liberal belief has always been that if you can just teach someone that their facts are wrong, or supply them with better facts, they’ll change their mind. This is not how it works and never has, and that is why in an age with, again, more knowledge of science than ever before and the collected wisdom of humanity available via your smartphone, we have substantial portions of people who believe that vaccines are evil, the Earth is flat, and climate change (and 87 million other things) are fake and/or government conspiracies. As a medievalist, I get really tetchy when the idiocy of modern people is blamed on the stereotypical “Dark Ages!” medieval era (I have written many posts ranting about that, so we’ll keep it to a minimum here), or when everything bad, backward, or wrong is considered to be “medieval” in nature. Trust me, on several things, they were doing a lot better than we are. Other things are not nearly as wildly caricatured as they have been made out to be. Because once again, history is complicated and people are flawed in any era, do good and bad things, but that isn’t as useful as a narrative that flattens out into simplistic black and white.

Basically, people don’t want their identities, comfortable notions, and other ideas about the past challenged, especially since that is directly relevant to how they perceive themselves (and everyone else) in the present. The thing about history, obviously, is that it’s past, it’s done, and until we invent a time machine, which pray God we never fucking do, within a few generations, the entire population of the earth has been replaced. That means it’s awfully fragile as a concept. Before the modern era and the invention of technology and the countless mediums (book, TV, radio, newspaper, internet, etc etc) that serve as sources, it’s only available in a relatively limited corpus of documents. History does not speak for itself. That’s where you get into historiography, or writing history. Even if you have a book or document that serves as a primary source material, you have to do a shit-ton of things with it to turn it into recognizable scholarship. You have to learn the language it’s in. You have to understand the context in which it was produced. You have to figure out what it ignores, forgets, omits, or simply does not know as well as what it does, and recognize it as a limited text produced from a certain perspective or for a social reason that may or may not be explicitly articulated. The training of a historian is to teach you how to do this accurately and more or less fairly, but that is up to the personal ethic of the historian to ensure. When you’re reading a history book, you’re not reading an unmediated, Pure, This Was Definitely How Things Happened The End information download. You are reading something by someone who has made their best guess and has been equipped with the interpretive tools to be reasonably confident in their analysis, but sometimes just doesn’t know, sometimes has an agenda in pushing one opinion over another, or anything else.

History, in other words, is a system of flawed and self-serving collective memory, and power wants only the memory that ensures its survival and replication. You’ve heard of the “history is written by the winners” quote, which basically encapsulates the fact that what we learn and what we take as fact is largely or entirely structured by the narrative of those who can control it. If you’ve heard of the 1970s French philosopher Michel Foucault, his work is basically foundational in understanding how power produces knowledge in each era (what he calls epistemes) and the way in which historical “fact” is subject to the needs of these eras. Foucault has a lot of critics and his work particularly in the history of sexuality has now become dated (plus he can be a slog to read), but I do suggest familiarizing yourself with some of his ideas.

This is also present in the constant refrain heard by anybody who has ever studied the arts and humanities: “oh, don’t do liberal arts, you’ll never get a job, study something worthwhile,” etc. It’s funny how the “worthwhile” subjects always seem to be science and engineering/software/anything that can support the capitalist military industrial complex, while science is otherwise completely useless to them. It’s also always funny how the humanities are relentlessly de- or under- funded. By labeling these subjects as “worthless,” when they often focus on deep investigation of varied topics, independent critical thought, complex analysis, and otherwise teaching you to think for yourself, we therefore decrease the amount of people who feel compelled to go into them. Since (see again, late-stage capitalism is a nightmare) most people are going to prefer some kind of paycheck to stringing it along on a miniscule arts budget, they will leave those fields and their inherent social criticism behind. Of course, we do have some people – academics, social scientists, artists, creatives, activists, etc – who do this kind of work and dedicate themselves to it, but we (and I include myself in this group) have not reached critical mass and do not have the power to effect actual drastic change on this unfair system. I can guarantee that they will ensure we never will, and the deliberate and chronic underfunding of the humanities is just one of the mechanisms by which late-stage capitalism replicates and protects itself.

I realize that I sound like an old man yelling at a cloud/going off on my paranoid rant, but…. this is just the way we’ve all gotten used to living, and it’s both amazing and horrifying. As long as the underclasses are all beholden to their own Ideas of History, and as long as most people are content to exist within the current ludicrous ideas that we have received down the ages as inherited wisdom and enforced on ourselves and others, there’s not much we can do about it. You are never going to reach agreement on some sweeping Platonic ideal of universal history, since my point throughout this whole screed has always been that history is particular, localized, conditioned by specific factors, and produced to suit the purposes of a very particular set of goals. History doesn’t repeat itself, per se (though it can be Very Fucking Close), but as long as access to a specific set of resources, i.e. power, money, sex, food, land, technology, jobs, etc are at stake, the inherent nature of human beings means that they will always be choosing from within a similar matrix of actions, producing the same kind of justifications for those actions, and transmitting it to the next generation in a way that relatively few people learn how to challenge. We have not figured out how to break that cycle yet. We are an advanced species beyond any doubt, but we’re also still hairless apes on a spinning blue ball on the outer arm of a rural galaxy, and oftentimes we act like it.

I don’t know. I think it’s obvious why society doesn’t understand and value history, because historians are so often the ones pointing out the previous pattern of mistakes and how well that went last time. Power does not want to be dismantled or criticized, and has no interest in empowering the citizens to consider the mechanisms by which they collaborate in its perpetuation. White supremacists don’t want to be educated into an “actual” version of history, even if their view of things is, objectively speaking, wildly inaccurate. They want the version of history which upholds their beliefs and their way of life. Even non-insane people tend to prefer history that validates what they think they already know, and especially in the West, a certain mindset and system of belief is already so well ingrained that it has become almost omniscient. Acquiring the tools to work with this is, as noted, blocked by social disapproval and financial shortfall. Plus it’s a lot of goddamn work. I’m 30 years old and just finished my PhD, representing 12 years of higher education, thousands of dollars, countless hours of work, and so on. This is also why they’ve jacked the price of college through the roof and made it so inaccessible for people who just cannot make that kind of commitment. I’ve worked my ass off, for sure, but I also had support systems that not everyone does. I can’t say I got here All On My Own ™, that enduring myth of pulling yourselves up by your bootstraps. I know I didn’t. I had a lot of help, and again, a lot of people don’t. The academy is weird and cliquish and underpaid as a career. Why would you do that?

I wish I had more overall answers for you about how to fix this. I think about this a lot. I’ll just have to go back to doing what I can, as should we all, since that is really all that is ultimately in our control.

#history #rant #long post #i'm sure i have more to say #but that's enough for now #anonymous #ask

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peepsilvs · 4 years

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Stardew Valley: A Charming Review

Warning: Very, very mild spoilers for the story, but otherwise quite spoiler free. Written 3.3.2020

I have always had a weak spot for video games that feel like home. Sometimes you just want to play a game without getting an adrenaline rush with every move you make. So, naturally, when I found a game a game that took inspiration from the Harvest Moon series, one of my childhood favorites, I was sold solely for the idea. What I got instead was even better than I had dreamed of, but in a different way.

Stardew Valley is a 16-bit pixel art RPG farming simulator game that was released in 2016 by its sole developer Eric "ConcernedApe" Barone, and published by Chucklefish. It has since been improved and gotten new features over the years, with the most recent big update being 1.4 that added several new interactions and gameplay elements in 2019. In-game, you take the role of a young farmer who has grown tired of their work in a big corporation in an even bigger city and decides to move to their grandfather's old farm to start a new life in Pelican Town, Stardew Valley.

Relaxing Gameplay

When you start a new save in Stardew Valley, you are offered a choice from 6 different farms. Each of these farms represents a certain gameplay element in the game, with some encouraging farming and ranching, while others show what other activities the player can immerse themselves in. Even though you are a farmer in the world of Stardew Valley, you do not need to limit yourself to watering crops every day, but instead you can spend your time honing your fishing skills for a relaxing waiting game, or if you are feeling more adventurous, exploring the deep abandoned mines crawling with monsters. No matter what you choose, you are sure to find it rewarding every time you find something you have not seen before.

The main skills the player have are farming, foraging, mining, fishing and combat. Each of them have a level meter going up to 10, that at certain intervals allows you to choose special effects for your character and unlock crafting recipes, either to customize your farm with nice structures like paths or fences, or items that help you in the areas of that specific skill, like special buff clothing for combat. Maxing out these skills is simple: you do the activity that the skill is for.

There is a certain kind of difficulty curve in all of these activities that keeps it interesting even after you have reached the maximum level. Stardew Valley keeps record of all the things you have found, making it oddly satisfying to browse through a complete collection of fishes or gems that you have managed to find during your play. Of course, obtaining all items will not be easy, as there are specific requirements for the rare items, like the legendary fish that only spawn in a specific location at a specific time of year, or gems that only spawn with extremely good luck and courage to go deep enough into the more dangerous mines. It is safe to say that even if the player is only playing Stardew Valley for its gameplay, it will not immediately run out of content for a true completionist.

Since the game uses 16-bit pixel graphics, it runs smoothly but is also limited to a certain controls. Often it balances this, like in fishing, where there is an added mini game to make it a little less boring to wait for a fish to bite. However, the controls of said mini game have frustrated many players, and has been divisive among the players. Personally, I found it a bit clunky, but then again, the same could be said about combat that I did enjoy. An element from the Harvest Moon sister series Rune Factory, combat in 16-bit pixels is not very astonishing. It mainly consists of the player using different weapons to hit enemies while standing still. The different weapons have different effects, but using anything other than a sword due to its speed and strength defeats the purpose, as the other weapons do not compare or using them feels rather redundant. There is also some problems with time and settings that some players may find frustrating. A year in-game has four seasons, Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, each consisting of 28 days with 20 in-game hours. To farmers and fishers, waiting for seasons to change in order to raise new crops or obtain new fish can be boring, but this can be balanced by the mechanic of going to sleep and skipping the day. The opposite problem though, the lack of time, is harder to fix. Unlike some Harvest Moon games, Stardew Valley forces the player to pass out after 2 A.M. While this is for the reason that the game can save the progress for that day, I often found myself annoyed by how little time I had to mine in a day. After reaching a certain level in mining, the more challenging mine becomes available only after 10 A.M, meaning the game leaves the player with twelve in-game hours to mine, and passing out in the mines would not be a problem, if the game did not actively punish the player for it. Every time the player passes out without getting to bed, they may lose money or some items the next morning. Understandably this adds difficulty, but more often than not it just feels like an unnecessary limitation.

Another, a more personal and a quality of life kind of aspect I hoped the game would have, is the changing of brightness. Stardew Valley has a fixed brightness in-game and it cannot be changed, so to people with sensitive eyes this can cause problems. Some have also complained about the lack of instructions the game has for its activities, but to an old Harvest Moon player like myself, this was not a problem as older games rarely gave any instructions to what to do. It very much depends on the player if they like to find out things via trial and error or if they prefer to think before they act.

The Charming Characters Bring Life to the Game

The most relaxing aspect I found in Stardew Valley was getting to know all the villagers of Pelican Town. There is something oddly human about these small pixel people and hearing their dreams, regrets and joys feels like you are truly helping someone. Stardew Valley is a dream for someone who wishes they could help everyone, as the player character tends to fix a lot of the problems the town is going through. The story is, in fact, all about getting invested in the little Pelican Town and its residents, helping them re-build their community center and restore the spirit they had before a big corporation market JojaMart came into town. Or, if the player so wishes, just to buy a JojaMart membership and buy their way through community updates.

Stardew Valley's main story is simple and does not get that much in the way of gameplay and the player is in no rush to play through it. The more rewarding story aspect is getting to know your neighbors, with each having their own story events to play through to find out about more of them. Among regular neighbors, there are also love 12 love interests, 6 men and 6 women. It does not matter which gender the player chooses, as Stardew Valley offers the option of same-sex marriage. Naturally, the love interests have more events than regular villagers, but even then, it is always nice to see events with characters you see as your friends. In the Harvest Moon series, I always felt sad about how the non-marriage candidate characters had almost no events to show your friendship with them. When I played Stardew Valley and noticed a pattern in the villagers actually interacting with you in events, I felt immense joy even over the platonic relationships in-game.

Unlike Harvest Moon, that hails from Japan, Stardew Valley sometimes resonates more with me due to its Western culture influence. It is surprisingly mature, with themes like alcoholism, depression and capitalism and their effects on people. Stardew Valley's characters feel alive due to their complex feelings on the issues going on in their life. Of course, getting to know them on the there hand might break this illusion of connection as the main way for the silent protagonist to bribe these people to love them is to give gifts and talking through the same dialogue. It feels superficial, but it is only a natural mechanic for the type of game that Stardew Valley is and it can hardly be held responsible for this.

The Aesthetic Feels Nostalgic

Even to a person who has not played Harvest Moon or older pixel games, Stardew Valley's art is very pleasing to the eye. The vibrant colors change through seasons and every seasons has its own unique feeling to it, brought to life with the nature's foliage and nicely composed music. To an old player who is familiar with Harvest Moon, it reminds me of the older games in the series and their innocence and relaxing flow, that some of the newer games lack.

As said, the music in Stardew Valley compliments the elements and feelings it is trying to get through during events, seasons or in specific areas like the mines. A casual player benefits largely from keeping the audio on while playing. Along with music, the sound design of Stardew Valley is good, though some of the SFX sound like odd squishy steps. Nevertheless, they do add a certain charm after the first few times of hearing them and the player comes to associate said sounds with the game, and I have to admit, I did laugh when I heard a pig make a noise for the first time.

What I love the most about Stardew Valley's aesthetics is its colors and the freedom it gives to the player. I have seen several players in the Stardew Valley community share their beautifully organized farms that the game allows the player to make, should they choose to spend their time on it. There is also a customization option for the avatar, with the player being able to choose and craft clothing for the protagonist and change their color as they will. This element allows the player to write their own story and to truly immerse into the beautiful world of Stardew Valley.

Co-op

There is also a co-op mode available for Stardew Valley. One of the farm types, The Four Corners, even encourages playing the game with your friends and while the gameplay doesn't differ that much from the single-player game, sharing the experience is fun as expected. It is to be noted however, that a single-player mode cannot be converted to a multiplayer server, so in every new multiplayer game, the player must start from a scratch again.

The other players live on the land of the host in smaller cabins that they can upgrade and get married in. Two players cannot get married to the same character, however, and there might be some amusing incidents where you are in the middle of a date with your sweetheart and you can see your best friends avatar running in the background hacking trees.

Two player can also get married to each other by crafting a wedding ring, but this hardly changes any gameplay. Still, it is a nice choice to have if someone chooses to share a Stardew Valley server with their real life partner.

Verdict

Stardew Valley is a beautiful, charming game, either for casual players or just people who enjoy relaxing while doing mindless collecting and helping others. It's fun, it's simple and it still manages to interest me after 150 hours of gameplay, due to its active community and ConcernedApe's passion for his project and improving it even after 4 years. To former Harvest Moon players, Stardew Valley is a must try at least once. It is defiantly not the same as Harvest Moon, but it does work as food for those waiting for western release dates, or as its own experience entirely. There is no denying that the love and passion put into this little game shines through it and manages to fill the heart of the player.

#stardew valley #harvest moon

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