#But if you can't connect to other people. how are you supposed to have relationships? The connection is. like. THE WHOLE THING????

[nekrosmos]

questions about nikolai and price (originally from an ask meme about original characters but i wanna hear your thoughts):

what do they want to hear?

what do they need to hear?

what do they dread to hear?

Thank you for the ask !! I honestly struggled with the answers, I'm not the best at deep character introspection so this really had me scratching my head. I hope what I came up with makes sense !

What do they want to hear?

Nikolai: "I trust you."

Nik is intimidating, isn't he ? Intelligent, strong, well-connected Nikolai. People know that. It usually takes only a half a second glance to know that you do not want to be on this man's bad side. He's used to it, really. But how many times as he entered a room only to see people shift uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of his presence? He makes people uneasy, whether he wants it or not. It's fine when he's on an op and needs to be menacing, but it gets old quickly when he just wants to relax, sometimes.

He's trustworthy, despite his shady dealings, he's loyal. Thankfully, a handful of people know that.

Price: "You made a difference"

Yes, his hands got bloody, but it was all worth it in the end, right? He saved people by pulling the trigger when it needed to be done. No hesitation, it's what the world needs. So what if he can't sleep at night and his file is covered in black ? He made a difference, the rest, he can live with.

What do they need to hear?

Nikolai: "You need to think of yourself, too."

Nikolai puts others first, this has always been true. He likes to help out, likes to feel useful, ready to answer a call. Loyal to a fault, devoted to his friends. But when was the last time Nik put his needs as a top priority ? Has he ever done that ? He has no trouble flying to the other of the planet at a moment's notice if someone asks him to. How many nights of sleep has he missed because someone needed a hand? How much time has he spent fixing up his helo because it got banged up the last time a friend needed transport in hostile territory ? It's always others first, never himself, and he needs to be reminded of that.

Price: "You matter."

It's easy to forget that you're someone when you've been used as a weapon since you were 16. You forget that you have a purpose outside of your work, too. You forget you're a human first, with needs and wants and desires. You are Captain John Price, but you are also just John Price, and he matters too.

When he comes home for a break, what does he see outside of blank walls and a barely lived in house he never really took the time to make his ? It's temporary, he thinks, he doesn't really live here.

Maybe John needs to be reminded that he exists outside of his work.

What do they dread to hear?

Nikolai: "You don't belong here."

From either side. I think Nik feels strongly about his relationship with his home country, how he's been working against it and how his actions might be perceived by his countrymen. I think he's scared of losing this part of himself, and being rejected, even though all he's done was in the name of his country.

And then on the other side, Nik knows he stands out, knows people see him as a "could have so easily been the enemy" kind of guy. People like him, sure, but how many, aside from Kate, John and Gaz actually trust him ? Everyone else sees him as useful, but ultimately, they still look at him with a suspicious eye.

Where is home for Nikolai, really ?

Price: "You failed them"

Losing people, he's used to it. It never gets easier though, does it? Men and women under his command, people he's known for years, people who trusted him, friends. But, there is something entirely different between losing someone when you did everything you could have done and it was the way it was supposed to go, and losing someone because of your mistake. He failed them, he knows that, and it haunts him.

[gelatomesomeironqrow]

Show of hands who else is pissed that the creator is trying to push the narrative of Viktor is Asexual after we didn't fall for the brotherly angle they tried to push on us?

Like we can ship them however we want, we already said they transcend above platonic and romantic soul mates.

Also, creator who clearly doesn't know a thing about asexuality. YOU CAN STILL BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH SOMEONE. Like come on. Asexuality is a spectrum, it's not a death sentence that means asexuals can't be in loving and happy relationships. It also means that there are parts of the spectrum that can/will/still want sex.

Stop trying to explain away JayVik. They can be in a relationship and not have sex. That is fine. They can be in a relationship and have sex. That is also fine.

What is not fine, is trying to invalidate Viktor as a person, his disability doesn't define him and doesn't mean he isn't capable of feeling attraction or love (which also comes in many different ways). It also doesn't mean that people aren't capable of finding him attractive or from them wanting him. Why was it fine to show Sky having feelings for Viktor? Because she was a woman?

I get it was a flex and their way to show that Viktor wasn't interested in her back, but he cared enough about her that the Arcane used her image and voice to "guide/control" him in season 2.

It didn't really work to show his Asexuality. Oh, he wasn't interested in one person out of a million. He must be asexual. Um. No. Notice how he never shied away from Jayce. It may not have been romantic in season 1, but you cannot have Viktor say "it was affection that held us together." And say the man is Asexual.

He is a scientist who spent most of his life creating and trying to find ways to better the lives of Zaunites. He was merely not interested in pursuing any form of relationship. It does not automatically make him Asexual.

I'm also not saying that he isn't Asexual. He can be Demi, he can be Aro, he can be any form of the Ace spectrum. Heck, if you want to believe that JayVik are "brothers". Than go for it. I'm not stopping anyone from shipping any characters however they like. I'm just saying that the creator is so against two men possibly being in a happy(?) relationship, that they are trying any other angle they can find without actually putting in any effort to research that angle.

The brotherly angle, at least to me, didn't work past season 1, because of how Jayce reacted to Viktor, dying, to how he reacted to Viktor living. The freaking ending of season 2.

The asexual angle, doesn't sit right for me, because the creator is just calling him Asexual. What kind of asexual? Demi? They tried to show the viewers Sky's interest and Viktor's lack of as a way to prove his Asexuality. When he wasn't interested in her because he was busy with his research and low key the Arcane influencing him. His entire arc in season 2 being "I now possess the ability to heal people and connect with them", to his reaction to Jayce killing him, to spending his final form turning everyone into hivemind robots, EXCEPT for Jayce mind you, Viktor was going to leave him down in the HexCore. He personally brought Jayce into the fold himself and even then, Jayce still had autonomy. He was capable of looking around and speaking to Viktor.

Viktor cared more for Jayce than anyone else in his life. Sure, he could be asexual. But providing thought and research into the subject matter would have been nice. Because Jayce was/is interested in Viktor and vice versa. "I just want my partner back". Not brother. Not friend. Partner.

In every sense of the word. They are partners, which goes above brothers, above Viktor's supposed Asexuality.

Also, it does not prove Jayce's sexuality for him having sexual relations with Mel. You can be bisexual and be with a woman. The guy was only ever shown in two relationships. The more physical one being with Mel. But that doesn't negate how much he cared for and spent most of his time with Viktor.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Sorry if this didn't make any sense. I'm rambling at almost 4 in the morning over this.

[applestorms]

hello apple. the common folk ask for your fervent musings on Naomi Misora!!

:3c oh goodness, naomi thoughts huh… let's make a list for this one:

i will forever Love the LABB murder novel for expanding naomi's characterization and backstory, it is forever So tragic that she died so quickly in the series. her back and forth with both L and beyond is fantastic in that book, and the additional lore set up about all those characters really adds to the canon of the series in an interesting way.

i knowwwww people (justifiably) hate on raye for all the "You'll be happy when you don't have to be an intelligent woman and can just be a Mother :)" bullshit, but naomi as a kind of mother figure is genuinely a notable aspect of her characterization and i kinda wanna Talk about it. particularly in conjunction with that one image of her in the anime opening where she is the stand in for mary holding jesus like in the pietà and also the fact that LABB murder canon sets up the idea that she dropped out of the FBI due to her inability to shoot a child (?? should double-check this but i'm near Certain). she often comes across as quite harsh, and for good reason since she's quite Brusque with the people we see her interacting with the most (light, beyond, L, even raye to some degree), but there's an intriguing Softness to her also that is a big part of what makes her an interesting character to me. it's the Contrast of it all, y'know.

(and yes, some of this may be included purely bc ohba is a sexist writer and doesn't know how to see women as anything other than "fuck object" or "mommy." even with that in mind, i still think this is a point genuinely worth consideration... though i'm not gonna forget that either askldfjsldkf)

naomi and matsuda both are kinda weird actually in that i always Struggle to really place their ages. they both just come across as so Young, despite the fact that they're older than even L by a couple years. i suppose both of them are also often quite underestimated by the people around them, which perhaps contributes to them coming across so green.

speaking of... it seems like quite notable, if somewhat under-utilized lore that naomi was a japanese woman working in the american FBI. again, LABB murders goes into this a Bit, what with naomi struggling to connect with her (presumably largely white, male) coworkers. the fact that her true first name is written entirely in katakana (usually used for foreign words/names) too... i'm assuming she's a first generation immigrant, since they're visiting her parents in japan? but it does give her that pulled-between-cultures kinda feel. i find it quite relatable, actually, as an asian american myself.

there might be an interesting connection there too with regards to how that might influence the ways in which her and raye's relationship functions. i suppose we can't really assume raye's background or race in too extensive detail, particularly since he is presumably speaking fluent japanese throughout the series (???), but i also can't help but see how the "american man with a non-japanese name in a relationship with a japanese woman" might be of note in terms of the particular kinds of sexist assumptions/views he exerts onto her (or even that she applies to herself...)

i've said this before, but i think it's a combination of both that and her more Maternal tendencies that gets her so on board with both L and light, two characters who are both decently younger than her and Take Her Seriously. the fact that she explicitly states seeing L in light, and that she is one of the few characters, really the only person outside of the japanese task force, to actually meet L in person is also. fascinating.

speaking more on the FBI though, i can't help but wonder about what naomi's motivations were for joining the FBI in the first place. or even what her motivations were for leaving japan at all, if she really was the first in her family to immigrate. clearly the american dream did Not live entirely up to expectations, from what we can see of how hard she was putting all her stock into this marriage with raye... but i also desperately wonder what she was Going Through post-beyond incarceration/L-meeting and pre-KIRA. that seems like a particularly juicy time period fanfic-wise, especially considering how beyond himself dies... sigh. onto the wip list.

actually. considering both birthday massacre and raye, it's kinda fucking funny to consider the fact that light killed both of naomi's main love interests. even L, if you go for that. not to mention naomi herself. RIP girl, she must've been frothing at the fucking mouth in that grave putting all the pieces together. first person to kick light's ass in the nothingness afterlife fr.

anyways, in conclusion: naomi fucks hard, best girl, desperately underrated character in the series that i will love forever. there's probably more that i could add to this but my brain is all blissed out on thanksgiving food so ig that's it for now. hell yeah naomi👍

[space-sheep08]

I think you might find the mother-daughter sexual abuse angle in Black Swan of interest if you haven't already delved into that

yesss

I was really taken aback by their relationship when I first watched the film because the incestuous subtext was pretty blatant and I hadn't seen any discussion around it beforehand. The idea of the abusive mother is still pretty hard to register for certain people, so when you add sexual abuse into the mix, plus inflicted on another woman, it mostly disappears from analysis.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

another day another "applying the concept 'disposability' to 'someone withdraws from a personal relationship, & that wasn't signed off on by the other'" kill me

[littlest-bugz]

Honey!! Wake Up!!! It's time for BUGZ to go through the 'emotional detachment is killing me' phase again!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Return to office and dying on the job

Denise Prudhomme's bosses at Wells Fargo insisted that the in-person camaraderie of their offices warranted a mandatory return-to-office policy, but when she died at her desk in her Tempe, AZ office, no one noticed for four days.

That was in August. Now, Wells Fargo United has published a statement on her death, one that vibrates with anger at the callously selective surveillance that Wells Fargo inflicts on its workforce:

https://www.reddit.com/r/WellsFargoUnited/comments/1fnp9fa/please_print_and_take_to_your_managersite_leader/

The union points out that Wells Fargo workers are subjected to continuous, fine-grained on-the-job surveillance from a variety of bossware tools that count their keystrokes and create tables of the distancess their mice cross each day:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

Wells Fargo's message to its workforce is, "You can't be trusted," a policy that Wells Fargo doubled down on with its Return to Office mandate. Return to Office is often pitched as a chance to improve teamwork, communication, and human connection with your co-workers, and there's no arguing with the idea that spending some time in person with people can help improve working relationships (I attended a week-long, all-hands, staff retreat for EFF earlier this month and it was fantastic, primarily due to its in-person nature).

But our bosses don't want us back in the office because they enjoy our company, nor because they're so excited about having hired such a swell bunch of folks and can't wait to see how we all get along together. As John Quiggin writes, the biggest reason to force us back to the office is to get a bunch of us to quit:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/sep/26/in-their-plaintive-call-for-a-return-to-the-office-ceos-reveal-how-little-they-are-needed

As one of Musk's toadies put it in a private message before the Twitter takeover, "Sharpen your blades boys. 2 day a week Office requirement = 20% voluntary departures":

https://techcrunch.com/2022/09/29/elon-musk-texts-discovery-twitter/

The other reason to spy on us is because they don't trust us. Remember all the panic about "quiet quitting" and "no one wants to work"? Bosses' hypothesis was that eking out a bare minimum living on from a couple of small-dollar covid stimulus checks was preferable to working for them for a full paycheck.

Every accusation is a a confession. When your boss tells you that he thinks that you can't be trusted to do a good job without total, constant surveillance, he's really saying, "I only bother to do my CEO job when I'm afraid of getting fired':

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/19/make-them-afraid/#fear-is-their-mind-killer

As Wells Fargo United notes, Wells Fargo employees like Denise Prudhomme are spied on from the moment they set foot in the building until the moment they clock out (and sometimes the spying continues when you're off the clock):

Wells Fargo monitors our every move and keystroke using remote, electronic technologies—purportedly to evaluate our productivity—and will fire us if we are caught not making enough keystrokes on our computers.

The Arizona Republic coverage notes further that Prudhomme had to log her comings and goings from the Wells Fargo offices with a badge, so Wells Fargo could see that Prudhomme had entered the premises four days before, but hadn't left:

https://www.azcentral.com/story/news/local/tempe-breaking/2024/09/23/wells-fargo-employees-union-responds-death-tempe-woman/75352015007/

Wells Fargo has mandated in-person working, even when that means crossing a state line to be closer to the office. They've created "hub cities" where workers are supposed to turn up. This may sound convivial, but Prudhomme was the only member of her team working out of the Tempe hub, so she was being asked to leave her home, travel long distances, and spend her days in a distant corner of the building where no one ventured for periods of (at least) four days at a time.

Bosses are so convinced that they themselves would goof off if they could that they fixate on forcing employees to spend their days in the office, no matter what the cost. Back in March 2020, Charter CEO Tom Rutledge – then the highest-paid CEO in America – instituted a policy that every back office staffer had to work in person at his call centers. This was the most deadly phase of the pandemic, there was no PPE to speak of, we didn't understand transmission very well, and vaccines didn't exist yet. Charter is a telecommunications company and it was booming as workers across America upgraded their broadband so they could work from home, and the CEO's response was to ban remote work. His customer service centers were superspreading charnel houses:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/18/diy-tp/#sociopathy

That Wells Fargo would leave a dead employee at her desk for four days is par for the course for the third-largest commercial bank in America. This is Wells Fargo, remember, the company that forced its low-level bank staff to open two million fake accounts in order to steal from their customers and defraud their shareholders, then fired and blackballed staff who complained:

https://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2016/09/26/495454165/ex-wells-fargo-employees-sue-allege-they-were-punished-for-not-breaking-law

The executive who ran that swindle got a $125 million bonus:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2016/09/wells-fargo-ceos-teflon-don-act-backfires-at-senate-hearing-i-take-full-responsibility-means-anything-but.html

And the CEO got $200 million:

https://money.cnn.com/2016/09/21/investing/wells-fargo-fired-workers-retaliation-fake-accounts/index.html

It's not like Wells Fargo treats its workers badly but does well by everyone else. Remember, those fake accounts existed as part of a fraud on the company's investors. The company went on to steal $76m from its customers on currency conversions. They also foreclosed on customers who were up to date on their mortgages, seizing and selling off all their possessions. They argued that when bosses pressured tellers into forging customers on fraudulent account-opening paperwork, that those customers had lost their right to sue, since the fraudulent paperwork had a binding arbitration clause. When they finally agreed to pay restitution to their victims, they made the payments opt-in, ensuring that most of the millions of people they stole from would never get their money back.

They stole millions with fraudulent "home warranties." They stole millions from small businesses with fake credit-card fees. They defrauded 800,000 customers through an insurance scam, and stole 25,000 customers' cars with illegal repos. They led the pre-2008 pack on mis-selling deceptive mortgages that blew up and triggered the foreclosure epidemic. They loaned vast sums to Trump, who slashed their taxes, and then they fired 26.000 workers and did a $40.6B stock buyback. They stole 525 homes from mortgage borrowers and blamed it on a "computer glitch":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#too-big-to-jail

Given all this, two things are obvious: first, if anyone is going to be monitored for crimes, fraud and scams, it should be Wells Fargo, not its workers. Second, Wells Fargo's surveillance system exists solely to terrorize workers, not to help them. As Wells Fargo United writes:

We demand improved safety precautions that are not punitive or cause further stress for employees. The solution is not more monitoring, but ensuring that we are all connected to a supportive work environment instead of warehoused away in a back office.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/27/sharpen-your-blades-boys/#disciplinary-technology

[delphi-shield]

connection buffering . . . ↺

di!leon x reader - long-distance relationship - part 2

previous part

you weren't bluffing.

you'd made the sign. wrote his name in big block letters, too confident in how you wrote the first half of his name. the 'EDY' crowds together at the end. 'E' shoves 'D' close to the end, 'Y' drawn paper thin and cocked to the side, threatening to topple off the edge of the paper. leon finds he's not too tired to laugh.

he had the whole goddamn flight to figure out what to say to you, but when he sees you standing there with that sign in your hand, scanning the crowd for a man you expect to be two inches taller, it all flushes out of him to make room for the queasy feeling in his gut. when you finally spot him (thank god; the words had gotten lodged in his throat, your name running around his mind again, again, again, lodged so deep in the crevices that he couldn't pry it free and force it out his mouth) your smile nearly blinds him. he shields his eyes with a hand, watches you bounce on the balls of your feet.

he flicks your sign with a finger. the only words that make it past the lump in his throat are, "messed up the kerning, huh?"

you tip your head, puppy-dog cute. more adorable in person. "the what?"

"kerning." silence. you shake your head a little, blank look in your eye. leon tries to swallow, feels barbs jab into his throat. ten minutes on the ground and he's fucking up already. his gut turns. he tries to blame it on airplane peanuts. "the space between the letters."

he should get back on the plane. if he flashes his badge and declares it official business they have to let him on, right? brass wouldn't be happy with him, but what are they going to do? he's leon fucking kenn--

you laugh and his thoughts screech to a halt, plane crash on the concourse. footsteps pound past him - or maybe that's his heartbeat in his ears. your laugh is prettier in person, too.

"okay, all right." your face lights up, eyes squished to make room for your smile. "why do you know that?"

mentally, he flips through a rolodex of excuses. he moonlighted as a graphic designer (false), he was really into fonts (no strong opinions, really), it's classified (outright lie). he settles for the truth, shrugging.

"late night wikipedia dive."

you laugh again. his heart is a bird, fluttering in his chest, battering itself against his ribs to get to you. what the hell is wrong with him? he hadn't felt like this in years, thought he wasn't supposed to feel like this anymore. when you were an adult you grew out of this sort of giddiness. he'd choked it down every time he'd checked his phone under the table at an intelligence meeting, dismissed it as heartburn. he's supposed to want. it's supposed to be a blaze that swallows him up. confident and bold and all-consuming. not fidgety and desperate.

he's not anxious. he's a grown man. he's met presidents, plural. he doesn't get nervous meeting people, even if they're stunning, even if his hands twitch to hold theirs.

does he hug you? kiss you? slip his hand into your back pocket and guide you out of the terminal, lead you blindly to a car that isn't his, take you to an apartment he's only ever seen portions of on a 15 inch screen, ask what he can make you for dinner in your own home? that's what he wants. skip over all of this and slide right into familiarity, fly right past all the work it takes to get there. you've done the leg work, right? you know how you feel about each other. he's here. that says enough, doesn't it?

he's eternally grateful that you reach through his thoughts and pull him into a hug. your face stuffs into his shoulder, words muffled. "i'm so glad you're here."

you inhale deeply and he swears his heart does a backflip. jesus, he needs to get a physical. this can't be normal.

it's you who loops your arm with his, you who tugs him into motion. you rattle off questions that he answers as best he can. it feels like drowning, like he can barely keep his head above water. his flight was fine, thanks for asking. no, he didn't get any sleep. he never sleeps on planes. it's a long story. he didn't need a nap, but yeah, he could go for a coffee.

you know this great place, you reassure him. really low-key. he treads water in the parking garage while you dig for your keys. you drop them - twice - and he wonders if you're struggling to stay at the surface, too.

as a last act before sinking into the passenger seat, he rescues your sign from the trash, folding it neatly and tucking it into his pocket.

he looks up from buckling his seat belt, beckoned by the way you call his name. he's still smiling when you cup his cheeks and kiss him.

by day two, he's decided you need a new apartment. he hasn't told you that yet, figures it comes off too pushy, but he would fly back down to help you move if you wanted. (if he thinks it hard enough, won't you ask him to?)

don't misunderstand - he likes what you've done with the place. honest to god, you're a miracle worker with decor. you could really shape his place up.

it's just that your front door is less than secure. your locks are ran through. it would take him less than a minute to break in. he doesn't even want to think about your windows. other than being drafty, they're just another completely unsecured access point.

you'd invited him to sleep in your bed the first night, and he had every intention of doing so. he'd just passed out on the couch before he had the chance. leon had woken with a pillow stuffed under his head, thick, handmade blanket tucked over him. it was sweet. really.

but it wasn't the same as sleeping next to you.

leon has every intention of sleeping in your bed that night. you'd filled the day with a tour of your city, pointing out your favorite and least favorite spots, telling stories that let him imagine the streets as a stage, you as the star, top billing as far as he's concerned. everything had been optional, as you'd feverishly reassured him after every stop. he could change the itinerary with one word. the only mandatory stop had been lunch with your friends. a good sign, he thinks. if you're confident enough to introduce him to the people in your life, then you see this going somewhere, right?

by the time you hit your last stop, it feels like he's emerged from a war zone. leon would know. he's been run ragged on back to back operations before, but this - the pressure of trying to be right for you, to show you who he is, waiting on pins and needles for you to sour on him and push back from the closeness he craves - this is truly exhausting.

you must feel it too, offering to pick up dinner on your way home in lieu of cooking. he waves away apologies, reaches past you to hand the cashier at taco bell his card when you try to pay. the food is gone by the time you pull your car into the parking lot.

both of you have the same idea. you're just as worn out as he is (makes him wonder if you're doing the same thing, all anxious energy, making sure to put your best foot forward, always stumbling and falling into a better impression than the one you set out to make) and bed comes naturally to mind. he slips into the side closest to the door and you stop him immediately, voice teasing.

"uh, that's my side." you poke at his ribs. the awkwardness had melted over the course of the day together. you were playful, eyes bright and laugh loud. touch came easy between you now, both playful and lingering. the comfort that had been stirred up and tossed into disarray by physical proximity had settled back in.

leon's eyes flit to the door over your shoulder. it's not a big deal, he tells himself. the odds of something happening were astronomically low.

but he knows his luck with astronomically low odds. one in a million is too risky. he's got to be closer to the door, won't be able to sleep if he's not. his hands wrap around your waist, urging you on top of him. he doesn't miss the way you stiffen, the momentary hitch of your breath, but you let yourself get swept along all the same, drape yourself over him as he guides you to.

"just sleep like this." leon shifts lower to make more space for you. he presses a kiss to your head.

it takes longer than he expected for you to relax. slowly, when his hands still at your back and his breathing evens out, your limbs loosen. your weight thickens atop him, pressing him further into the mattress. it's all he can do to remind himself that he's tired, that starting something now would lead nowhere fast.

leon stays awake until he's certain you're out cold. the door remains unbreached, your home still safe. he can't bring himself to regret his caution.

when he's finally able to sleep, he sleeps hard. he wakes to your fingers carding through his hair, his cheek cushioned against your chest, completely flipped around during the night. it's the best night he's had in years.

on day three, leon wonders if he should be more obvious.

he's been putting out all the signs, carefully curated his touch to be lingering, to make you burn for more, but each time you settle against him and offer up a contented "this is nice."

does there need to be a neon sign draped around his neck that says "take me for a spin", arrow blinking down toward his crotch? you'd let him press against your back during an afternoon nap, knee wedged between your legs, arm curled around your stomach to keep you next to him. he woke from dreams where he was bolder, where he wasn't afraid of losing you with that lingering confidence, pressed kisses to the back of your neck until that gauzy empowerment lifted.

hell, he'd woken up that morning laying half on top of you, his head nestled in the valley of your chest. you'd pet his hair til he woke from nuzzling your tits in his sleep.

he abandons subtlety during the credit crawl of eight-legged freaks, a 'classic' you had insisted on making him watch. (you'd laughed when he had commented he could keep you safe in the event of giant spiders. he hadn't been joking, but he still hasn't grown tired of hearing you laugh.)

"hey," he asks, hand curling around your thigh. his thumb smooths an arc across your skin, traces the path again and again. "do you wanna..?"

smooth, kennedy.

you look over at him with that same puppy-dog confusion that he's growing familiar with. instead of moving his hand, you draw your legs up and lay them over his lap. how the fuck is he supposed to interpret that?

"do i wanna..?" you parrot back, drawing the words out into the form of a question.

leon hates himself. he wishes he could back out of this. he clears his throat. how the hell do people broach this topic smoothly? he searches for the words, the silence stretching a little too long for comfort. finally, he says the first thing he can.

"like, sex."

real mature, kennedy, he thinks. he wishes he could backpedal, take it all back. he's certain your face warms. before he can issue a take down for his words, (maybe cut out his stupid goddamn vocal cords, if he has the time) you fumble out, "oh. like- right now? uh, i mean, do you want to?"

continuing with the maturity, he turns it back on you.

"i asked you first."

"i don't not want to."

leon shakes his head. his hand cups your ankle. "i really only take 'yeah' or 'hell yeah'."

"i just didn't think giant spiders got you in the mood."

"hey, the more legs the better."

leon knows deflection when he hears it. he's the reigning champ, after all, could play this game with you all day. but he has mercy; he chuckles, lets you get away with it and grabs the remote, declaring it's his turn to pick another movie since your choice was a mood killer.

later that night, curled up in bed with a video playing mindlessly from your tablet, you turn around to face him. he widens his arms to accommodate the movement, circles them tighter once you settle in.

"you're not mad?" you ask, pressing your face into his chest, already hiding from the answer.

"about what?"

"y'know."

"spell it out for me, sweetheart."

he can feel your breath puff against his chest, an exasperated huff. people have done this same thing to him time and time again. he always hated it, being forced to be forthcoming and earnest. (vulnerable, some people call it, but that always made him feel like a wounded bird.) now that he's on the other side, he sort of sees the appeal.

"'cause i don't wanna have sex yet."

there's a 'yet'. that's promising. he saves that little victory for later. his hand rubs slowly, reverently across the planes of your back.

he knows what he's got to say. he knows that he means it. putting the words to it is different. he needs you to understand, has to do this right.

"i didn't come all this way just to hook up."

you hum. "but you still want to."

christ, he's got to man up and say it.

"of course i do." you burrow closer to him, hands fisting against his side. he taps your back firmly. "hey. i'm not finished. i'm attracted to you, okay? like, really attracted to you. it's not- it's not just physical. i want to see if we can make this work. if what we had on the phone was real."

"is it?"

"yeah. i think so."

"sex isn't important to you?"

"it is. it's just not more important to me than you."

you pull your face from his chest, look up at him with big wet eyes. he brushes the backs of his fingers against your cheek tenderly, afraid you'll splinter and those tears will cascade down if he's anything but gentle.

"i think so, too."

you curl back into him, your touch melting from desperate to serene. leon can't help but feel accomplished - as though he's threaded the needle perfectly, cut the right wire just before the clock hit zero. gradually, his breathing falls into step with yours.

"besides," he murmurs, half-asleep. he drops a kiss against the top of your head. "your walls are thin. i don't want you catching a noise complaint."

day four is a glimpse of the life he could have, but it makes him realize what he needs to do to obtain it. the sickly feeling pools in his stomach, leaves him picking at the dinner you made. it's good, he swears. then the lie - just all the travel catching up to him.

he knows by day five that he's got to tell you everything. it's no longer a want - he needs you in his life. he's resolved to come clean.

he nearly does it over breakfast. you set his coffee in front of him, muss his hair before you take your own seat, and it almost comes spilling out onto the table.

i work in national security. i'm a federal agent. there's so much i can't tell you, but it's dangerous. god, it's dangerous. there's so much blood on my hands. it doesn't scrub off but i'm worried it will stain your skin. i think i could love you, if you'll let me. please don't say it back.

"plans today?" he says instead, sipping his coffee.

maybe tomorrow.

day six leaves him melancholy.

you'd insisted that today was for him. whatever he wanted, you would accommodate.

leon worries that his answer is boring. he wants a day in with you. an imitation of what it could be like to come home to this. the idle sounds of you milling about the house could lull him to sleep if it weren't for the words lodged in his throat.

you were doing the laundry. not yours, not his, but the, the definite article that's never felt intimate until that very moment. it silenced him to hear you refer to it that way. he's so tired of reading into every word you say, clinging onto every nuance. he'd forgotten how exhausting this stage of a relationship is. you couldn't send him home with dirty clothes, you explained, and he had no argument against that. his eyes traced after you as you puttered around, busying yourself with tidying. you're so at home. of course you are. it's your apartment. but he wants that. he wants to lift you from this place and into his own home, to watch you make yourself at home and busy yourself with the mundane.

he's got to tell you today. he can't do it over text. it's wrong.

when you finally settle down next to him on the couch, drawing a blanket into your lap, you breach the topic gently, give him a chance to do it himself. leon doesn't realize how obvious he is when he gets that look on his face, all forlorn as if he'd collapsed onto a fainting couch, hand over the back of his forehead. drama queen.

"what's up?" you ask, sitting close - but infuriatingly distant, not quite touching him yet.

"nothing. just looking at you."

bless you for trying to make it easy on him. it's always been like pulling teeth to get him to talk. he's trained to resist torture and coercion, should know better than to melt under a gentle hand or the way your body fits against his side.

you hum softly, disbelieving. so that's it, then. the silence, the 'i'm respecting your distance until you break' tactics. damn, you're good. leon takes a deep breath, chest aching with the weight of what he has to say. now or never.

"look- i'm not who you think i am."

you don't miss a beat. "in what way?"

he has to force the words out. he's acutely aware that this could ruin everything. you could kick him out. block his number, never speak to him again. good. it was safer that way. you deserved a normal life.

"i lied to you. about my work."

"yeah, i know."

"i work in security. national security."

"leon. i know."

his brain reels back a few steps, trying to process your words.

"you know?" he repeats, almost offended. how could you know? was this a set up?

you pull your phone from your pocket, tapping a quick query in. you turn the phone to him. article after article, a few interviews pinned to the top. every link is purple, clicked on and read through. the one that draws his eye is tucked at the bottom of the screen, makes his skin crawl to remember.

KENNEDY, HARPER CLEARED OF CHARGES

"i googled you." you set your phone down on the coffee table.

"and you still let me into your house?" he was serious, but you laugh. leon's brow pinches. "how long?"

you shrug, as if this conversation is about the laundry. "a couple months. ever since you told me your last name."

"months? why didn't you say anything?"

"i was hoping you'd tell me yourself. and you did, sort of."

his mind is still reeling. the drama of it all had his wound up tight. where does he put that energy?

he must look as thrown-off as he feels, because you chuckle, sweep the hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"i get why you don't tell people upfront. just don't hide stuff like that from me again, okay? seriously. i'll be mad."

it's more grace than he deserves. your acceptance churns his stomach. is there another meaning behind your words, a resentment coiling in the pit of your stomach?

you crack open your book and lean against his side. he settles his arm around you, moving slow, scared to frighten you away. only one chapter in, you pass him your phone, a take-out app order, asking what he wants. if you're mad, you hide it well.

day seven is a funerary procession. you help him scour your apartment for things he may have left behind, packing them neatly in his suitcase-shaped coffin. it's amazing how his things had flooded into your apartment during the short course of his visit. he had spread out, made himself comfortable. part of it had been testing how his belongings felt next to yours, how it all fit - the final test he had constructed in his mind. you'd passed that with flying colors, clearly. he's lost track of a shirt somewhere along the way, but he isn't concerned about it. he'll be back. he can look for it another time.

both of you linger at your front door. excuses are myriad, flowing from both sides. reasons to double back, reasons to keep his hand on your waist, your fingers in his hair, your lips on his.

but eventually the time becomes too urgent, the threat of missing his flight too real. he'd joked in the car that if he didn't turn up for work they might just send a helicopter to pick him up instead, expecting a laugh. you only smile, a wry twist of your lips that fades too quickly. you reach for your sunglasses and shove them on. the air is tense by the time you pull into the parking garage, cherry scented car freshener cloying.

“you gonna cry?” he teases.

you sniffle.

“oh my god.” he is such a jackass. “don't cry. i'm sorry, sweetheart. it's okay. jesus.”

“i just don't want you to go,” you squeak. your hands fist the steering wheel tight, knuckles turning white.

leon leans over the center console, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. he shrugs you closer to him, hushing you gently.

"let's plan another trip, okay?" he murmurs against your head, placing apologetic kisses there over and over. "c'mon. it's not forever. it's okay. i'm gonna call you when i land. we'll text, like we always do. it's my turn to pick the movie, so-"

fuck. his voice cracks. he clears his throat, blinks quickly to keep his composure.

"so, i'll pick a good one. wednesday night, okay? you, me, and a really good movie."

steadily, his promises slow your tears. the pressure of time detaches you from his hold. you're with him as far as you can go, waving him off to his gate. his heart sinks like a stone. he hates flights, never gets comfortable on them, but the way home feels longer than usual.

made it home he texts the second he's through the door. you're probably asleep. he hopes you are, at least. it's late for you, and--

yay

before he can bother telling you to go to bed, another message pushes through. his house felt empty before, but your message only deepens the feeling, hollows out the hallways and leaves his bed feeling too big, too cold.

i miss you already. call me tomorrow if you can.

leon squints at the screen.

"is that my shirt?"

you stop mid-sentence. caught red-handed - or, rather, grey-shirted.

it's your movie night since he made it back home. you're curled up in bed, your popcorn off to the side. he can fill in the gaps of your room now, knows what extends beyond the screen - and he knows that shirt. an old work tee of his that had mysteriously gone missing after you did the laundry. well-worn and soft. his name stamped on the back in big, block letters. possessive pride stirs in his chest to imagine you wearing his name.

sheepish, you promise, "i'll bring it back to you. how about next month?"

leon shakes his head. he pulls open his calendar, skimming through the busy weeks to clear the time for you.

"keep it. wear it to the airport for me so i know who to look for."

"you're not gonna make me a sign?"

"the shirt is the sign, sweetheart."

"are you gonna wear a matching one with my name on it?"

"i might." he opens another tab, googling how to make custom t-shirts. "you'll have to get here and find out."

connection restored -`♡´-

dividers from @/adornedwithlight

[toast-on-dandelioms]

Hello, I really a fans of your work and always waiting for the updates. I have a question, what happen if Y/n just ignore the batfam as Y/n also turn to superfam becoming their family. It also assuming Alfred A-Okay with it. Oh, also Y/n might be have relationship with one of the superboys and she love to cuddle with the lover. Well, that's just my wild imagination thinking about.

Oh well, I hope you have great days.❤️😘

Thank you for liking my work! If you're asking for part 4, it will come out soon and probably by the end of next week!

Well, I don't think Alfred would be totally a-okay with this and after a bit he would act to 'fix' the situation.

He wants you to stay at the Manor and be appreciated too by the Batfam even though they don't even know you exist.

He has tried before, talking about you to Bruce and the others but they always dismissed him with the excuse of being busy or forgetting about you the next day.

And seeing you giving up on being with your real family and finding love in another family that actually accepts you and he can't accept that.

You're supposed to be with him as the rest of the Waynes not with some alien family.

He would act like he supports you whenever you come to visit him since you mostly live with the Kents nowadays and come to the Manor to grab the things you needed since you were moving your stuff from the Manor to the Kents house.

After a while you start to come home, to come back to him even less before you just visit him maybe once a month before it turns into no more visiting him since you're busy with school, dance classes and the vigilante role you still have.

And Alfred hates it so he decides that he can't stand to watch his boys obsess over your vigilante persona when they can't even bother to notice you weren't living in the Manor anymore.

So he decides to call a family meeting without your knowledge and explains everything, who you were behind the mask and how dissapointed and ashamed that the people he raised didn't even acknowledge that you existed.

Their reaction, which were mostly of confusion before realisation bothered him but he stayed silent and used their reaction to manipulate them, make them think you weren't in the right place with the Kent family.

And after a week from that meeting, you started to receive texts from all the batfam and also kept seeing them everywhere, with Bruce at school or when you were patrolling the city.

He would always try to talk to you, which you ignored or gave him the finger while swinging away, preferring to not engage in his tries to connect with you.

Plus he would show up at your dance recitals when you never said anything to Alfred about them and he would always be right in first row with a smug smile since he knew you couldn't do anything.

Plus you already knew they knew who you were behind the mask, they said your name when you had your mask on so many times you wanted to punch their faces.

You had to skip a few days of school because Tim and Damian started to show up at your same highschool and sitting next to you in class, to which no one would say anything and it frustrated you since highschool was one of your safe places but not anymore.

You tried to ignore Dick and Jason's attempts at stalking you, not because it was noticeable since you never saw them but the spider sense made you aware you were being watched and after a bit you were able to notice them following you.

Yes you did feel proud since you didn't have any detective training like the others but still knew who was following just by using the things around you.

You vented your frustrations with Clark and Conner and they did help by letting you skip school and everything but you had to go back to school or it would affect your attendance and damage your reputation and curriculum for future colleges applications.

But one fateful day, you went to a mission with Conner and Clark since they needed a third person but couldn't bring Jon since he was busy with school, so you went in his place.

During the mission you got ambushed, Conner and Clark were at disadvantage since the attackers (not sure on the term, the people that attacks) somehow had kryptonite weapons.

Plus you were also fighting, using the tasers and also the objects around you like rocks or trees.

Yes, you did throw a tree at a group of them and you also got Clark telling you not to do it again. Did you listen though? No.

As you were fighting you suddenly got stung by something in the leg, and when you touched the spot where it hurt you saw a small dart there.

You opened your mouth to call for Clark or Conner but someone covered your mouth and held you as you fainted while Clark and Conner had to flee since the attackers were too strong with the kryptonite.

The last thing you saw was the smiling face of Dick before completely giving in the drug you got injected in your body, not hearing them fight about who was gonna carry you in the batmobile.

[luvhughes43]

the boy is mine | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

summary: yn meets quinn hughes and is instantly captivated by him, leading to him inspiring and starring in her new single "the boy is mine"

word count: 2.8k

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📍brighter days studios

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yourusername soooooon ;)

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user01 our soon??

liked by yourusername

user02 love you !!! cannot wait to see what youre working on

user03 you guys... quinn hughes liked this...

user04 NEW MUSIC?? OHH IM UP.

user05 i'm seated. the record store employees are scared and asking me to leave because "it's not even out yet" but im simply too seated.

6 MONTHS EARLIER

how can it be? you and me

might be meant to be, can't unseen it

but i don't wanna cause no scene

im usually so unproblematic

so independent, tell me why

'cause the boy is mine, mine

it was supposed to be for album promotion. sitting in the stands at rogers arena - right behind the home bench so the camera had easy access to see your dazzling face as the game unfolded in front of you. "he's kind of cute," your best friend courtney leans in towards you, pointing out one of the players only a few feet away from you behind the glass.

HUGHES. 43.

you study his side profile for a second - not giving him any real attention. you were here strictly on business and if people started suspecting you were eyeing somebody who was rumoured to be in a relationship (you checked) you knew that your publicist would call you in distress.

"i think hes taken," you whisper back, nervously eyeing the people sitting around you.

courtney nudges you with a small chuckle, "you checked?"

you playfully nudge her back, before settling back into your seat. to tell the truth, you were on a strict "no dating" rule ever since your ex boyfriend ran his mouth to page six detailing how you "cheated" on him with someone in a relationship. it wasn't a true story of course, but everyone flocked to the headlines anyway as an excuse to call you horrid names and say i just never liked her anyway!

hughes turns around then, and you feel your breath hitch as the speakers call out your name and your flushed face is plastered across the jumbotron. "you so like him," courtney laughs and you can't help but join her.

"portia's gonna kill me,"

"oh come on! a new relationship is a publicists dream... plus, i think he likes you. he literally cannot stop staring," you look to where courtney points and you see the defensemen skating towards centre ice - his eyes flicking towards you before he grounds himself in the game.

butterflies immediately fill up your chest and you know your screwed. the boy is mine.

something about him is made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you don’t know how she did it, but as soon as the final buzzer rang courtney was pulling you up and out of your seat and dragging you through the various corridors of the arena. “where are we going?” you ask, letting courtney pull you along.

“i’ve got connections babes,” she replies before coming to a halt in-front of a door. she knocks twice and a nice man wearing a suit opens the door slightly.

“you all good?” he turns his head and yells into the room.

“court…” your confusion is clear but before you can ask any questions the man swings the door open and your face to face with the canucks roster. “courtney!” you hiss lowly and she squeezes your hand tightly.

“you’re welcome…” she teases as she drops your hand and steps into the room.

as if your eyes were magnets, you lock eyes with quinn. his cheeks tinge with pink, and you quickly avert your gaze.

the man from before introduces you to the room - even though it’s not really necessary. your “scandals” have been plastered all over the news since your brief hiatus from music left everyone bored and in need of gossip.

"hughes - i mean uh quinn. i'm quinn," the man from the ice stutters as he reaches a hand out towards you. you slip your hand into his and with an awkward pause you two drop your hands.

"im y/n," you reply with a small smile and courtney silently slips away to greet the other players.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

everything happened surprisingly fast. one minute you were sharing your number with quinn - against all rational judgement - and the next the two of you were taking any gaps in your schedules to spend time together. coffee dates turned into lunches, which turned into dinners, and then there were nights wrapped in each others sheets. it was all so crazy and fast - and it turned out that quinn wasn't seeing anybody after all.

please know this aint what i planned for

probably wouldnt bet a dime or my life on

there's gotta be a reason why

my girls, they always come through in a sticky situation

say, "it's fine"

happens all the time

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yourusername 🌞

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courtney miss youu

user06 cuties !!!!

user07 quinns liking her posts again...

user08 he saw her at his game months ago and instantly folded... i respect that in a man

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 31 409 others

_quinnhughes Summa😎🌊

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trevorzegras what the dog doin

user09 now who's damn dog...

user10 TOULOUSE???

user11 ? who tf is toulouse

user12 it's yns dog!! istg she and quinn are dating

when you don't think the rumours are true but... your attention is stuck on your phone screen as your leaked song plays in the background of a tiktok. a pretty blonde girl lip syncs your song with annoyance and you watch the video a total of three times before clicking on the caption. "guess she fantasized about my bf too much and now hes hers lol... she's sick."

"do you know this girl?" you ask quinn and he lazily looks up from the pasta he's cooking. you mute the video as chills go up your spin. there is absolutely no way that quinn was seeing someone when the two of you first got together all those months ago.

"no why, is she your friend?" quinn replies easily.

you stare back at the video and all of the interactions it has. over two-hundred-thousand likes and all the comments are bashing you for something you didn't even do. you were so beyond tired of this situation and people using your name for attention. "no, i don't know her either," you respond distantly. you forward the video to your managers and hope they can rectify the situation.

"it's nothing," you dismiss your earlier question when you realize that quinn is still lingering on you. he reluctantly nods before turning his attention back to his pan. "thanks for coming here by the way - i know your schedules insane," quinn speaks up, mentioning the break in your studio time to come visit his lake house in michigan.

"thank you for inviting me," you set your phone down - completely committing to ignore the online drama and to focus on what's in front of you.

something about him was made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you had never spent so much time in one place. you were only supposed to be in vancouver for a few studio sessions with a producer native to the city - but ever since meeting quinn you became enamoured with the city. but it wasn't just vancouver either - you were also splitting your time between michigan as well. which, before meeting quinn was just a single stop on an 100-show tour.

but strangely despite everything, vancouver feels like home as you begin navigating your new album cycle and the words of 'wisdom' from your publicist portia who - you swore was only discouraging you from your relationship so she wouldnt have to stave off angry people on social media.

"i was thinking... gossip girl marathon and we order-in?" quinn suggests as soon as you step foot into his apartment. your mind settles as youre welcomed into your boyfriends space.

"have you ever watched gossip girl?" you ask, tossing your bag onto the couch before sliding up next to quinns spot in the kitchen. he had various online menus pulled up on his laptop, ready to order whatever you desired.

quinn hums, "i watched it with my mom when i was younger. i'm team blair,"

"team blair?" you gasp, "ohh you were made for me," you laugh lightly as you point towards one of the menus on his screen. "i'm so down to watch gossip girl,"

"do you wanna go set up the tv while i order the food?" he asks and you kiss him on the cheek before making your way into his living room.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

"i think we should riff off 'fantasize'," you speak to your music producer - max - finally wanting to take back the energy from your leaked song. you were tired, and with quinn away on pre-season hockey duties you were bored. "something more sophisticated," you explain as you click through various samples and instrumentals. you finally land on one half-finished record and the lyrics immediately come to you.

"the boy is mine..." you hum along to the empty track as you pull out your notes app. "i can't wait to try him-" you continue, rapidly noting lyrics in your app.

by the end of your studio session the basic structure of the song was completed and you knew you had a hit on your hands.

and i know it's simply meant to be

and i, take full accountability for all these years

promise you i'm not usually

like this, shit, its like news to me

but i can't ignore my heart, boy

"the boy is mine, i can't wait to try him..." you sing quietly to yourself as you search pinterest for music video inspiration. "let's get intertwined... the stars they aligned..." quinns smirk immediately presses against your soft shoulder. he trails light kisses across your shoulder blade and up to your neck, silently begging you to continue singing your newest song.

"the boy is mineee..." his soft lips are ticklish against your skin but you can't help but lean into his grasp.

"i love when you sing," he mumbles and you tilt your head to rest against his. halle berry's cat woman buzzes in the background but neither of you are paying the movie any attention.

you hum, "oh yeah?"

he kisses your shoulder again and you fix your gaze back onto your laptop screen before lightly closing it and setting it to the side. "i still don't know what i'm going to do about the music video,"

quinn lays back in bed and allows his gaze to fixate on the tv. "what about catwoman? i'd bet you'd look good in a cat suit" he teases. you knew he wasn't being entirely serious but halle berry easily captures your attention as she dazzles on screen in her catsuit.

"the boy is mine," you hum lightly, completely enticed with quinns idea for your music video.

i can't wait to try him

lets get intertwined

the stars, they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i can't believe my mind

the boy is divine

boy is mine

the male lead for the boy is mine video is a no-show. multiple calls to his personal phone, calls and emails to his managers and agency, everything is left unanswered.

quinn🤍🌙: i'm out front. i got your favourite drink

you sigh with relief as you quickly excuse yourself from the upset mass of production staff and your cinematographer.

"hey, what's wrong?" your boyfriend of almost a year asks with concern etched across his features. you blink slowly and all your frustrations manifests into tears.

"the shoot is going so bad," you breathe heavily, "and we're so behind schedule,"

quinn wipes away your fallen tears with his thumb. "why what's happening?"

"the male lead hasn't shown up yet and he and agency aren't answering our calls," you lean against quinn and he easily wraps a hand around your waist. "i've filmed most of my solo shots but i know the crew is getting upset and i don't know what to do. we're trying to find a replacement but-"

"i'll do it," quinn says quietly and measuredly.

"what?" you blink and pull away from him slightly. quinn passes you your drink and you allow the coolness of the cup to soothe some of your nerves.

"i'll be in the video" he repeats. "if you want- i mean i don't want to overstep or-"

you lightly tap quinns hand with your own. "i'd love if you were in the video," you say softly, nerves completely dissipating with his comfort and the solution to your problem. "thank you," you kiss his cheek.

less than an hour later quinn was fitted in his costume and was debriefed on the scenes he would be filming.

─── ➤ 📹

you left quinn to film his presidential speech sequence so that you could get ready to film the catsuit portion of the video. your dress was tight and your brown wig made you take on your pop-girl persona that you'd been sheltering ever since the infidelity allegations ruined your reputation.

"oh you look so good," quinn wanders up to you as soon as you step onto the apartment set. he eyes your latex dress before smoothing a hand down your side gently. "i was right about the outfit," he jokes easily and you lean against his side while the crew finishes marking the next scene.

"you don't look too bad yourself," you blush under the weight of his gaze. you trail one of your hands up the front of his chest before realizing where the two of you were. not like it would be a crime to ogle your boyfriend on your music video set... but still.

"how was filming your speech?" you ask, pulling away from him slowly.

"only forgot my lines once!" quinn jokes with a laugh, to which you immediately join in on.

"that's my boy!"

"okay, y/n - quinn, we're ready for you two now," your lovely director calls out across the set.

PRESENT DAY

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yourusername "the boy is mine" is out now!!🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ starring my boy _quinnhughes, featuring brandy & monicadenise !!!!🥹🥹🫶 and directed by the amazing christhedirector

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christhedirector the best is yet to come!🎬

_quinnhughes had the best time with you!❤️

arianagrande obsessed

jackhughes can't believe you let him on set

canucks the collab we didnt know we needed!🐈‍⬛💙

user13 QUINN???? HUGHES????

user14 the most insane hard launch wtf?

user15 the boy may be yours but i need him to be MINE!

user16 waittt this is the guy from the hockey game all those months ago??? wow

user17 mv was so good i started hallucinating

user18 loveeee you!!! this song and mv is literally so good!

_quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes "the boy is mine" by the amazing yourusername is out everywhere now!❤️

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lhughes_06 can't believe this exists

_eliaspettersson 📸📸

trevorzegras damnnnn you really weren't lying

_quinnhughes ?

bboeser looking good💯

user19 WHAT

user20 me next pls

user21 so the rumours were true this whole time👀

user22 so did she cheat or not like...

user23 plss he wasnt even following that tiktok girl it was definitely a lie for views lmao.

user24 soooo their relationship is confirmed ?

user25 hughes girlies lost

user26 OHHH I WON I LOVE U BOTH SM!!

user27 this mv has me feeling things hold on...

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, madisonbeer, jackhughes, and 5.7M others

yourusername last photo dump i promiseeee !!! this project has been an absolute dream and i'm so happy that it's finally yours after all these months! i can't wait for u guys to see what else we've been working on.. ;)

view all comments

_quinnhughes the most talented♥️

user28 TRUE LOVE?? oh this quinn stuff is serious huh...

user29 i get it

user30 loveee you the most

THE END <3

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[loveemagicpeace]

🦋Things about planets / signs🦋

🩷Saturn in Aries - aries should fall in this position and this position is also treated as bad, not so effective. But saturn is the planet (of order, responsibility, authority, discipline, finishing things you do, career and reputation, time...) Aries is energetic, combative, brave, persistent and driven, when you decide to do something, do it. Saturn and Aries both represent independence, doing things on your own or getting things done on your own. Aries is a competitive sign and will not give up until he has done what he set out to do - Saturn is the planet that pushes you to achieve your desired goal. I personally think that this position brings more benefits than disadvantages and that you can get a lot out of this placement. The only bad thing here is that things can go to extremes.

🛍️Sun in Libra-the sun is supposed to fall in the sign of technicality. The sun represents (light, inspiration, playfulness, identity, strength, glory, visibility). Technique represents (beauty, connections, sociality, comprehensibility, harmony). The sun represents male energy and technology should also represent male energy. Together, they both love attention and socializing. The only difference is that the sun represents ego and sometimes selfishness, while the technique represents a more gentle and compassionate energy. Techies in the sun love to be seen and love to show off their style, dress up and do things for themselves and their fun. The only thing that can be challenged here is to focus more on your own needs and not so much on the needs of others. You can't please everyone right away.

🌱Tauruses can sometimes be much more picky and strict about what they want than Virgos. As far as the natural look is concerned, Taurus are more prone to like a natural look on their partner and sometimes stick to certain things they like on others. While Virgos know how to adapt and many times you can be surprised by what Virgos really like in a certain person.

🌌This may sound contradictory, but I think capicorn rising people invest much more in a relationship than libra rising people. These people invest a lot and work on relationships, things and want the best. Many times they make sacrifices for people, they are very responsible and stable. Libra rising can sometimes invest more in themselves than in others. Many times it happens that they quickly give up and can be quite a flirtatious sign.

🥑Capricorns and Aquarius placements can sometimes be prone to loneliness. Both signs are independent and do not like the freedom to help other people. Many times they want to do everything themselves. They feel best when they have their peace and their work.

Capricorn rising/ Saturn in 1st house people can have body dysmorphia a lot times. Sometimes it's hard for them to accept their body. They can be very critical to themselves, especially because capricorn it's in the first house & 1st house represents your appearance, your body ,how you look at yourself. They have MC in Scorpio so therefore many times they can attract people who sexualize them. They can also attract older people.

🫧Taurus degree/ placements you are very attached to certain things that are yours (Taurus represents owning things - more or less material) so it is very difficult for you to let go of something or give it to someone even if it is just chocolate because you feel that things that belong to you should be with you and be only yours. They like to give to others, but only when they decide that they want to give something, when something is taken from them without their consent, they will always consider it as having been taken from them.

❄️The difference between Taurus and Scorpio is that Taurus wants control over material things, money, things they enjoy. They find a sense of stability in this. Scorpios want to have control over people (they like to possess someone) and they want the person to be theirs only.

🦋Venus in 11th house-you like unique and special things. Which means that the style you have can be completely different from what other people wear around you. Many times you can wear something that others would never wear but it looks very good on you. Your outfit can have several different clothes, which are thus selected from several different stores or styles that you have noticed. For example: elegant, sporty, vintage and then you make one outfit out of it. They will never follow trends because they don't like it. And one thing that people don't understand is that they don't do it because they want to appear different, but because they value something special, unique, because they want to have something that is only theirs and represents them.

🛼Two signs that they actually love something that is old school vibe; old movies, old cartoons, especially cartoons. Are Taurus & Leo-both of them appreciate things that are valuable and have a special meaning and are of good quality. Leos appreciate everything related to childhood, they like to return to nostalgic memories. Taurus appreciate old things that have a deeper meaning.

💫Venuses who know how to enjoy and will always put enjoyment before other things are: venus in sagittarius, pisces, taurus & leo.

🥊Mars signs: Sagittarius mars is living in the moment vibes. They love being here & now. Doing nothing. Just observing environment.

Leo mars are the definition of how to choose a hobby, a joy without looking at others.

Aries mars are the definition of how to be independet and fearless.

Taurus mars are the definition of how to be calm.

Virgo mars are the definition of how to take care of your body and do the best for others - these people know how to take care of others. They are the best caregivers.

Capricorn mars will drop everything just to be with you.

Scorpio mars are the definition of how deeply committed they are to one person.

Pisces mars are the definition of how they sacrifice for others and how they put their needs before others.

Cancer mars are the definition of how they can make the space like a home.

Gemini mars are the definition of how they can switch from one thing to another. And how many things they can do at once.

Aquarius mars are the definition of how to do things completely differently than others do.

Libra mars are the definition of how to flirt with your beauty.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🫧💍🌊

[stackslip]

I wanna ask what’s going on with arcane but I feel like I’m opening pandora’s box 😅

the thing about arcane s1's writing, is that every plot beat flowed naturally from characters' choices, and every one of the characters' choices made sense in the context of who that character was, where they came from and what information they are working with at the time they make that decision. it felt like a tightly written tragedy where on a rewatch, it all feels completely inevitable that things would end this way because it made sense to who we learned these characters were. and said characters were layered, much time was devoted to giving them a certain degree of depth and believability (bar cait). you can criticize other aspects of s1's writing such as liberal wishwashiness but s1 of arcane was a *good* tragedy with a genuinely compelling cast! the final scene of the show is a confrontation between three major players who were all working with different information and whose motivations are completely at odds but who have a deeply personal tie, it's about jinx as the end result of the zaun-piltover conflict, it's about vi and silco being two deeply broken people who see her in an idealized version they deeply love and want her to remain this static thing they can be comfortable with until it turns out she can't be and she shatters and at the same time irreversably destroys her relationship to both, leading her in her despair to set off the ticking time bomb that is piltover and zaun's inevitable conflict!

so like, s1 has its flaws but its finale imo was perfect and made the whole thing self contained. i was ok with s2 happening. the only thing i wanted was more the dynamic character writing. i expected wishy washy politcs. and act 1 of s2 already struggled with character, but at least the plot beats were interesting and while not earned, made sense according to the characters we'd left in s1.

s2 act 2 is an absolute catastrophe, even compared to the previous act, nevermind compared to s1. it's not just that the plot beats don't feel earned, it's not just that it's missing connective tissue between them--it's that all the most interesting conflicts and dynamics just cease to exist. they don't get "resolved", they either are completely forgotten or are just waved away magically to pave the way for an utterly stupid, shlocky, wannabe shock value emotional final ten minutes of episode 6 that is honestly infuriating in how it's trying to push you to have feelings about it. i don't have any feelings besides revulsion and bafflement frankly. even before these final ten minutes of ep 6, the sheer lack of buildup or of character moments, the way characters are basically willed by the plot to be there at specific points for plot to happen to them instead of them arriving at it naturally--the way it reframes interesting aspects of s1 and s2 act 1 into shlocky, tropey bullshit--it's honestly near mesmerizing? it's like they brought in whole different new writers specifically for this who decided to back down on ANYTHING the show did that was interesting to try to instead push to the league's status quo instead, no matter how little sense it makes. i'm almost in awe. how do you mess up so badly.

this isn't just like, the plot is rushed and we need to get there as fast as possible--none of these resolutions make SENSE. jinx and vi's relationship was the core of season one, and suddenly magically jinx shows up at vi's door and vi bitches a little and then they go hunt vander down together and then they all hug because he was their father too <333 isha. i'm supposed to have emotions about isha? she sacrifices herself for.... forwhat? what? why? it's like they knew they had to kill her off to give jinx feelings and do so in the most stupid and absurd way possible, i was laughing hysterically when the music came in. it was so blatantly manipulative and uncalled for. ok i guess! sevika helps jinx and then once she's served her plot purpose she just vanishes! doesn't she wanna meet vander??? ekko's disappearance doesn't both people much i guess even his own firelights. ambessa says a single line about mel disappearing, and can i say i'm kinda infuriated that two out of three of the main black characters are just locked away from the plot and main cast for a large period of time. jayce--i guess they'll give us an explanation as to why but here it's like he just...... shows up angry and "ruins" things and that's it. whatever there was to ruin lmfao sky and viktor's heterosexuality mind palace leading to him being cyborg satan or some shit? cait finally FINALLY gets some personality, something interesting to her, she is openly a reactionary fascist who gassed half the undercity to sniff out jinx, and then she meets vi and within a solid minute is now back to being Nice and helping out jinx. i guess. silco and vander's backstory kind of completely destroys a lot of the stuff that made vander and silco's relationship to vi and jinx interesting and goes for a Family Is 5ever approach i guess.

just. i don't think there's a single thing there that's redeemable or interesting. it's comically bad. vi has no personality or motivation. she just does things. she got an emo trauma amv so that we get that she's sad but it might as well not have happened bc she barely is a character. jinx is a sad manic pixie dream girl. her psychosis is gone or barely there now apparently. sevika is plot and then vanishes when her part is done. ambessa is not a mastermind as act 1 hinted at but the most stupid comical villain alive. mel is--is she just going to come back to do a big plot thing in act 3 and then that's it? ekko the same? we have no idea what jayce is even doing or what or why. piltover and zaun are gonna ally now i guess lol. ok sure why not. why anything. why do anything at all! what's the point!

it's funny bc i was willing to give this season a chance despite act 1 being so rushed bc again, the plot points were interesting and while the characters needed more time fleshed out for their decisions to make sense i COULD see the characters making these choices and it was just a question of missing buildup. here it's like everyone is a zombie of their actual self. there's no point to anything. it's so stupid. it tries hard to play the emotion part but why should i feel any emotion except befuddlement? why are caitvi shippers happy? i'd be insulted. i feel insulted. i heard via a friend that riot had intervened in the writing more and so far i hadn't felt it but now i'm wondering if that's not exactly what happened bc it genuinely feels like the writers were fired right after act 1. what the fuck lol. i don't think i even wanna watch act 3 after this, i feel genuinely insulted that i should be expected to think this is the same show as s1 or that i should feel any kind of positive feelings about it. fuck this show so bad lmfao i'm sticking to s1 and pretending nothing happened after it. maybe grabbing some act 1 plot points for fun and that's it. it's so bad

[mavrintarou]

[Daddies in Decembers] Sakusa Kiyoomi

I'm 4 days into December but thought, I should dedicate this month to the daddies being dads lol. This was not supposed to be this long, I can't guarantee that the other characters will have something this lengthy. Enjoy~

Warning: fluffy and dreamy Omi, Omi who knows how to waltz, Omi who is a beast in bed (we all know that though) smut . You met Kiyoomi a few months ago after you found out he was going to be your partner for your friend’s Bridgerton theme wedding. Your first impression of this man was that he was cold and unapproachable. He was always standing at a distance from everyone else and kept to himself.

“It’s normal, that’s Kiyoomi.” Hinako text you. She admitted that out of all the other bridesmaids, you were the best fit for Kiyoomi because of his attitude.

Engaging with people was usually a breeze for you, even when it came to strangers. However, Sakusa Kiyoomi was on another level. Despite your best efforts to connect with him for the sake of the wedding, he remained unyielding. His piercing glares suggested annoyance, and he rarely cracked a smile or engaged in conversation. Moreover, his face was often half-covered underneath a mask 99% of the time. Whenever you tried to start a conversation with him, he would only respond with a simple answer.

You immediately adjusted to his behavior and only engaged in a conversation when needed.

The exact moment you started feeling drawn to Kiyoomi was unclear. Hinako and Youta’s wedding required great preparation. The ten bridesmaid and their groomsmen were expected to learn how to waltz and participate in three of the dances that were part of the reception program.

Your initial waltz class with Kiyoomi was anxiety-inducing. Aware of his strong aversion to germs, you were uncertain about how he would react to holding your hand. Prior to the class, you took extra precautions by washing your hands three times.

It was the first occasion you had witnessed Kiyoomi in casual attire, excluding his sport outfits. Following the instructor’s guidance, he took your hand and encircled his other arm around your waist.

“Let me know if my hand positioning makes you feel uncomfortable,” he mumbled. You assured him he was fine.

Kiyoomi surprisingly showed great skills in waltzing. He picked up the steps and movements immediately and was praised by the instructor for how gracefully his body moved.

“Relax and just follow me,” Kiyoomi commanded softly after you struggled to follow the tune and his steps, stepping on his toes as a result. You looked up and your eyes nearly bulged when he said that he had his mask pulled down below his chin, giving you a full view of his face. “I’ll go at your pace.”

Just like that, two were the first pair to nail the first dance.

Your relationship began to flourish since that day.

You both dedicated extra time outside of dance class for practice, and in the private moments shared between just the two of you, a different side of him emerged – a soft side.

He was gradually growing at ease in your presence, evident in the way he would swiftly discard his mask as soon as he was around you.

“Closer,” Kiyoomi whispered, pulling you right against his body. “Remember, the instructor said we must be more intimate?”

“Waltzing should be intimate, I know you guys aren’t romantic partners but you all should try to put more emotions into it,” said the instructor at their last class.

Nodding your head, you relaxed and tried not to blush even more at how close you two were. You shift your gaze to his coffee table that’s pushed against the wall, anything to distract you from staring at his gorgeous face. The dance studio was closed for cleaning and neither of you knew until you arrived only to be disappointed at the sign on the door.

You were on the verge of suggesting that you guys could reconnect again in a few days, given your upcoming busy schedule with work over the next two days.

“You comfortable… coming to my place? It is nearby.”

You had to refrain from smiling, seeing how he couldn’t look at you in the eyes and his ears were bloodshot red.

“Sure,” you gesture, “lead the way.”

Each dance and song used to be a drag to you, but recently, you’ve discovered that you’re getting lost in the music and the steps, completely immersed in the dance. Before you realize it, you and Kiyoomi find yourself at the end of the waltz breathing heavily, locked in a gaze, deeply connected through the rhythm.

The moment it began was a blur, but gradually, you both discovered comfort and support in each other’s presence, sharing smiles and laughter as you immersed yourself in the dance.

“We did it,” you grinned, realizing that both of you had mastered the dance steps, reaching a point where mistakes were almost nonexistent. From the very beginning to the end, you and Kiyoomi seamlessly executed the waltz.

You aren’t sure if it was a mistake to look into Kiyoomi’s eyes but you did and found yourself lost in his. Your fingers itched to thread through his curls, brush your thumb against the two beauty marks on his forehead.

“Y/n,” he exhaled deeply. You realize it wasn’t due to the dance, as you had already caught your breath.

“… yes?”

His eyes shift lower, you feel them shift to your lips. “Can I – may I… kiss you?” Before you could answer, he quickly withdrew from you, turning away. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “that was stupid of me to ask.”

You closed the distance and tugged his sleeve to turn him around. He looked down at you with a frown and a frustrated expression. You ignored it all but what you couldn’t ignore was realizing how tall he was compared to you at that exact moment.

Looking around, his coffee table was right beside you. Without much thought, you stepped on the table, gripped the collar of his t-shirt, and pulled him towards you before pressing your lips against his.

It was a simple innocent kiss.

Until you were about to pull away but a hand wrapped behind your head, and Kiyoomi’s lips moved over yours in a hungry and deprived kiss.

“Mhmm,” you moaned, hands cupping his face. You move your mouth with his, eagerly meeting his kiss.

You both pulled away, breathless, more breathless than when you two waltzed together.

You pressed your forehead against him, realizing with you standing on his coffee table, you were slightly taller than him.

“S – sorry,” he murmured.

“For what?”

“Kissing you.”

“I kissed you,” you corrected, frowning.

“And then I kissed you.”

“But I’m not sorry?” You retort.

.

Everything shifted from the moment the kiss occurred. In the presence of others, Kiyoomi remained close, yet he retained his stoic expression, and nobody else seemed to discern the shift between the two of you. You found peace in subtle moments, such as when his hand gently brushed against yours or his pinky subtly intertwined with yours – a private exchange that went unnoticed by everyone else.

The wedding came around and before you knew it, it was the real dance.

You faced Kiyoomi, and despite having walked down the aisle alongside him earlier, you found it challenging to fully comprehend how handsome he appeared with his curls styled to the side, dressed in a sharp black suit.

Throughout the wedding, neither of you had the chance to share a moment together, let alone exchange a simple, routine kiss. Every time you two finally found a moment to gaze at each other for longer than three seconds, one of you would inevitably be pulled away for something else.

“You look stunning,” he whispered the moment you two closed the distance and were pressed against one another.

“You look dashing,” you smiled, following his steps.

You twirled around, your back pressed against his chest as you mirrored his steps. Your heart quickened as his hand firmly pressed against your belly instead of his usual place on your waist.

Kiyoomi nudges your head, making you tilt your head, your eyes closing in response as you feel the music and the dance. You felt his nose graze against your ear. In a quiet, low voice, he murmured, “I was starting to lose my patience because I couldn’t catch a second with you.” With that, he spun you back around, guiding the dance with grace. “I just want to be with you.”

For a few seconds, the others around you blurred and you could no longer hear the music. You stared deeply into Kiyoomi’s eyes repeating the words he just said.

In recent nights, you’ve found yourself foolishly attempting to unravel the sexual tension lingering between the two of you. Did he desire it as well, or were you the only one harboring such delusions? These thoughts began to weigh on you, leading to a sense of melancholy as you pondered what would become of your connection once the wedding concluded. You wouldn’t have an excuse to see him anymore.

Shooting your shot, you asked, “do you want to come back to my room tonight?”

Did he understand the hidden meaning behind your question?

What if he shot you down?

He blinked at you as if trying to comprehend what you just asked him.

Your ears began ringing and you felt embarrassed.

“Can we go now?” he asked shyly.

.

“Ahh,” you moaned, back arching as Kiyoomi pounded you from behind. You lost track of time, let alone how many orgasms he has squeezed out of you. “Ki – yomi… Kiyoomi – wait… slow down… ple – please…”

You two made it back to your room and all your clothes were discarded, mixing amongst each other and becoming a trail that led to the bed.

The headboard thumps loudly against the wall. It was the reality for you as to how deep and how hard he was pounding into you.

Your arms and knees gave in as your body collapsed onto the bed. That did not stop Kiyoomi and his movement, if anything, he continued and penetrated you deeper.

You were going to die. You are convinced of that.

“Omi… Omi,” you moaned into the pillow, you tried to lift yourself but it was useless. Each time he thrusted, he penetrated so deep into your body sending you over the edge. You were going to cum again.

The bed shook in waves with his thrusts as he neared his own orgasm. Your body bounced and each time you felt his cock deeper into your pussy.

Kiyoomi’s last thrust stilled and you feel him tremble as he came inside the condom.

His groans were cute, you thought to yourself amid the moment.

“What is funny?”

Did you laugh out loud?

You glance over your shoulder, seeing him tower over your back. His weight was supported by his knees and elbow but he remained deep inside of you.

“You’re a beast, Kiyoomi.”

He burst out laughing before rolling you both over. You ended up falling asleep in his arms, warmed and protected through the night.

.

You had worried for nothing as he asked you to be his girlfriend the next morning. He expressed his worry, the same worry as you, about not seeing each other once the wedding was over.

That was when he realized how he felt about you.

“I like you,” he tells you in his husky morning voice that you instantly fell in love with. “You made me feel things I never felt for anyone.”

“Is that why you set out to make sure I wouldn’t be able to walk this morning?”

He chuckles and you tighten your arm around him.

“I like you too,” you tell him after a few minutes of silence.

Kiyoomi tightened his arms around you and rolled you onto your back. “Say it again.”

“I like you,” you repeated.

It was hard for you to believe that this grinning from-ear-to-ear Kiyoomi was the same one you met a few months ago.

You lean up to kiss him, you love these new discoveries about Kiyoomi, his morning voice, his chuckles, and his smiles.

.

They say it takes about a year for you to learn the true nature of someone but some, you find their true nature a lot sooner.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was not who you thought he was.

The icy and solemn man you initially encountered was far from the one currently resting on your lap, arms embracing your waist, his face nestled into your stomach.

“Don’t stop.”

You hummed while gazing down at the large puppy, thinking he had drifted off to sleep.

Instead of repeating himself, Kiyoomi grabbed your hand and placed it back on his head, wanting you to continue to keep petting him and run your fingers through his curls.

You giggle and continue to keep massaging his scalp, knowing he needs it after a long day of practice and dealing with his teammates.

Your husband of a month and soon-to-be daddy had become even clingier after the life-changing events of your wedding and your pregnancy.

He needed to be beside you at all times, even in the mornings when he was tired and you got up to prepare his lunch. He would grumble and cling on to you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as he watched you. Sometimes in the same position, he would chop up the vegetables while you made his sandwich, all while clinging on to you.

Despite finding it bothersome, you recognized that his love language centered around physical touch, only with you, of course. You endured his behavior because of your affection for him.

. . .

E/n: I try to write about other characters too and not just my usual Omi and Rin.

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[headspace-hotel]

i'm...thinking about writing a book?

I mean. I feel really silly at the thought because i'm not like a scientist or anything, i'm barely at the beginning of my knowledge journey, but...being a writer was what I always wanted to do. It's what I've been doing ever since I could remember. And I'm constantly, constantly just so full of things that I want to tell the whole world. I will have a realization or idea and think, oh my god. Everyone needs to know this. But I can't tell everyone. I'm not good at talking.

I'm good at writing. But I will sit down to write a post on my silly little blog and get so overwhelmed by the SCALE of everything I want to say.

I think I've already started to write a book. I think the space for these ideas to fill is already the size of a book and it will never have any smaller of a size, and no one else will come along to write the book, and no one else CAN write the book, and IT HAS TO BE WRITTEN.

I want to write about the ways of the plants, of course. I want to teach how to transplant and how to gather seeds and the properties of keystone species...but more importantly, I want to write about how to learn the ways of the plants. I want to promote the habit of insatiable curiosity and intense observation. I want to show everyone that everything everywhere is infinitely interesting and mysterious, and if you pay attention to the plants, they will teach you.

I want to write about Symbiosis. I want to write about how we are connected to every other thing, how we have our own ecological niche as Caretakers, and our own special adaptations of curiosity and love. I want to write about how the ecosystem needs us to participate in it, not to cut ourselves off from it, and how our powerful influence on ecosystems can be for good or for bad. We are not a disease. We are a Keystone Species.

I want to discourage this Euro-centric idea that sees humans as separate, and recommend more reading from indigenous points of view that understands ecosystems better and sees humans as participants in nature, engaging in a reciprocal symbiotic relationship. I want to speak against all this talk about removing humans from half of the Earth or reducing the human population, and show other people that despair and fear make you paralyzed and powerless, but hope is powerful.

The most important and powerful thing you can do for your ecosystem is to love it. It is necessary to have hope for the future—to learn to imagine a future of restoration and renewal, and to build community with other people working toward that future.

If we don't imagine a future for our ecosystems, imagine them boldly and audaciously in ways that feel crazy and impossible, those futures will not happen. But just the act of saying, "This WILL happen. We WILL be okay." gives you the strength and energy to fight and it gives you the creativity to come up with solutions you never could have thought of before.

And I feel I have to explain, how did I end up listening to plants? And how did the teachings become so important that I had to write about them? There's this black, swallowing abyss underpinning all of who I am, some intimation of a reality so terrible the human spirit breaks beneath it. I had a mental health crisis back in 2021 where I was pulled deep into that abyss, and when I started rescuing little plants and caring for them, I was basically re-learning how to be human.

I feel like I was seeking answers to "How am I supposed to live in this world?" in the natural world because the human world of poetry and books and articles and think-pieces had utterly failed me in that regard. I had taken multiple poetry classes where I had read all the best contemporary poems, and all the poets just wrote flat, plodding, blunt descriptions of their trauma and despair. Nothing is wrong with these topics, but the worst part was how these authors didn't even take themselves seriously; they had to be detached and ironic about their own pain, like a snarky dystopian novel hero who jokes casually about the horrific reality they live in so the reader knows that this reality is normal and unremarkable to them—and even more importantly, that the hero is ironic and cool instead of responding in a vulnerable, human way.

And speaking of dystopian novels...there were a lot of those! It was like all the visions of the future I had read were dystopian. Even I had been writing a dystopian novel. But I realized that I wasn't wise enough to tell that story yet. I didn't know why at first. But then, as I was reading everything people were writing about climate change, I began to realize.

I saw a lot of patterns between the way people wrote about climate change and the tendencies of self-harm and self-defeat that gnawed inside me. Suicide was something that I had never struggled against, but I understood that suicide was only the most striking manifestation of a self-annihilating way. Sometimes you feel like by hurting yourself, you are being transgressive, exercising autonomy against an absolute, crushing reality. It doesn't have to be physical hurt; it can just be deciding no one will like you and denying yourself love, or thinking "Well, there's no use hoping for anything good to happen."

This is how people talk about climate change. They fantasize about extreme, horrific scenarios and talk as if the Earth is already dead and destroyed, and they talk about humans hatefully and as if they were a disease, and then congratulate themselves for seeing how bad it REALLY is instead of being in denial. It is easy for people to get attached to this and even get mad when someone suggests there might be hope, simply because self-harm can be very psychologically reinforcing.

It is common to call these responses "climate grief." But as I came into this very simple and quiet yet profound encounter with Nature, she had an answer to this philosophy that was perfectly gentle and placid and yet caustic enough to strip paint:

"HOW CAN YOU WISH FOR THE STRENGTH TO GRIEVE THE EARTH, WHEN YOU WERE NEVER STRONG ENOUGH TO LOVE IT?"

I realized, with a breaking heart, that I had always hated and resented my back yard and my home town, because it was an ugly place that seemed to me "Already destroyed," and my soul ached for woods and wilderness.

It had taken me 20 years to fully admit my love of nature, because I felt like there was no point in acting upon it—everything would get destroyed anyway.

I had not been brave enough to love the woods across the road, the creeks and the hills, because they were so fragile in a world that didn't respect them, they could be destroyed by some housing development at any time. So I just accepted that it was already a lost cause.

But it was time to be brave enough—not to accept despair, but to choose hope.

To grow up, first we had to become strong and get rid of silly beliefs like hope and fairness and love. But now, we have to become even stronger and start believing in those things again.

[grison-in-space]

yesterday's talk to the neurodivergency activism program also included a fun "ethics in research on neurodivergence" panel conversation at the end when one person expressed this real frustration with the academy: that it's so unfriendly to neurodivergent people who can't navigate the social structures of academia, and it is so frustrating to this person to know that they want to go back to school and get the PhD but it's so unfriendly to neurodivergent people--

bear in mind, I'm the only openly neurodivergent researcher on the panel and by far the most junior (the others are all established faculty), plus I do animal research which is probably as far from the rather clinical focus of the folks in that program as humanly possible. and I've discussed openly how relational academia is, and how much it relies on the approval of your supervisors. we've even had a nice conversation about the same thing in clinical practice.

but I'm sitting here going... you know what, the interpersonal fuckery that almost ended my career actually was a result of blundering into another neurodivergent person's unacknowledged shame spiral, actually? you know that neurotypical research PIs are a distinct minority in my experience? you know that this is an incredibly dysfunctional institution, I ain't arguing that, but it's also one that has been by and large built for, by, and around neurodivergent people's needs and desires?

it's just they don't know it, so if you talk about it openly you get panic reactions. but it's so, so, so funny to see. (as I expanded on this theme the lady I liked best, a black woman working on intersections between developmental disabilities, race, and access to health care, is just grinning SO wide and almost giggling to herself.) you label yourself and people go OH NO A LABEL but if you know how to see the shape of the thing the label is supposed to describe, you can see that they oughta have a label, too.

so on the one hand, real consequences for being too open about yourself, but on the other hand, things actually have gotten so much better in the last 5-10 years. and on the gripping hand, just being in a space with only other neurodivergent people does not necessarily fix the problem of inadequate communication, hurt feelings, bad relationships with power, and weird insecurities. it just doesn't fix it. what works is understanding how to resolve conflicts, building structures that are less reliant on single dyadic relationships, and finding alternate ways to make connections with scholars in your field.

dammit, this means I should probably poke my bluesky again. fff.

[patscorner]

What Love Broke

Summary: You and your girlfriend go through a rough patch

wc: 2,144

Contains: angst, couple kisses, reader petty asf

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You don't exactly remember what started the argument, but you knew it had escalated far more than it should've.

“I'm just saying- it's so unfair how you can't manage to come to a single one of my games when I've been to every one of yours!”

“Oh, I'm sorry that I'm busy with actual things to do. Maybe if you played an actual sport, I'd come to one!” Neshy shouted back at you, her accent thick.

Things have been tense for a while between you and Ines, the stress of your upcoming softball tournament and her basketball tournament stopping you from seeing each other. The wall between you two was built by two people who were so in love that it was painful.

Now here you both are, arguing in front of your closest friends, desperately trying to hold onto the last string that connected your hearts.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

Ines’s face flashed a twinge of regret, but quickly recovered. “Nothing, look-”

“No, I fucking knew it! I knew that's why you never came to games. You weren't busy, you just didn't fucking care!”

The evening started fine, some of the team gathering in Paige’s dorm to hang out before practice the next morning. Ines had been unusually cold, and everyone noticed her icy demeanor. It was embarrassing for you, so you tried to subtly ask if you'd done something, only to be met with the same frozen heart.

You tried to let it go, but as the night went on, you’d had enough. You had dragged her into a separate room in an attempt to fix whatever you had broken.

Which led you to now, the pair of you, face to face, shouting at each other.

“I care! All I do is care! You're so fucking ungrate-”

“Bullshit, Neshy!” You ran your hand over your face, a weak attempt to calm yourself.

“How can you call me ungrateful when all-”

“Because, with all I do in this relationship, you don't do anything to match it!” her accent ringing through the air thickly.

“With all you do?!! What about all the time I've put in?! All the time spent watching your fucking games, instead of doing homework of my own! All the times I've stayed up going to games, then going to an afterparty, just to watch you get drunk!” your voice shakes at this, but it doesn't matter, not to her anyway.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was such an inconvenience for you to support your girlfriend!” Ines had been pacing this whole time, clearly overwhelmed, and normally you'd respect it. You drop it and pick it up later, but this time, this time, she was gonna listen to what you had to say.

You scoff out a dry laugh. “It's not an inconvenience, Ines, it's just not reciprocated. And until you figure that out, don't bother coming.” You turn to face the door, tired of this argument, tired of fighting, tired of this.

“So that's it?! We're gonna leave it like this?!” She asked, her voice carrying a different kind of weight to it.

“I'm tired, Neshy. I can't keep fighting you like this.” You say spinning around.

She's quiet for a bit, clearly thinking of where to go from here. You can almost hear her thoughts, her face flipping through emotions, until she picked one. The same one she's had all day.

“Don't come to any of my games, then.” She hissed out.

Your heart stuttered, but you didn't let her see that. “Okay.” Is all you say before you turn around and leave, closing the door behind you.

You walk out, finally allowing the tears to fall before remembering you weren't in your own dorm, meeting the eyes of your girlfriend's teammates.

Their eyes carry pity and sympathy as they reach yours.You wipe your eyes before grabbing your phone and mumbling a goodbye.

It's a day before the game between Uconn and Syracuse, the second round of the NCAA Tournament. It's been 3 days, 13 hours, 6 minutes, and 40 seconds (but who's counting) since you've talked to Ines. During those painful hours, you've left your dorm once. One to return a notebook to Paige that you'd borrowed for math help.

You'd seen your girlfriend around campus a couple of times, but quickly avoided her gaze. Your entire goal was to cool off before you went to the game the next day, but that plan failed when you returned to your dorm to your room unlocked.

At first, you panicked, but when you saw Ines in the kitchen, you let out a breath of relief. You set your keys on the counter and your bags on the floor.

“What're you doing here?” You ask softly.

She yelps, putting her hand on her chest. “Jesus, you scared the fuck outta me.”

“Sorry.” you mumble.

“It's okay.”

The silence between you both is not the comfortable one you were used to. This silence was loud, filled with the unspoken words of your hearts. You stare at your feet, avoiding the intense gaze from Neshy.

“What're you doing here?” You repeat.

“I-I, uh, left my jersey here. I didn't think you'd be home soon.” she whispers the last part.

You raise your eyebrows. “So that's why you're in my kitchen?”

Her eyes widened. “Wha- oh, uh. I jus- I noticed your Brita was out of water, so I was just filling it up.”

Your heart shattered. Even after all the fighting you two have done, she still shows that she cares.

You nod. “Thank you, that's- that's very sweet.”

She just hums in acknowledgement, before grabbing her jersey off the counter and heading for the door. You watch her as she turns around to you.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“Oh-uh. I don't know.” You whisper.

“Please.” She begs.

“Neshy.”

“Jus- think about it. Please. I need you there.”

You sigh. “I'll see.”

“Okay.” She opens the door, but turns around and walks back towards you, pulling you into her chest by your waist.

Her lips interlock with yours briefly, a silent plea for you to go.

“I love you.” she whispers.

“I love you, too.” you smile sadly.

And with that, she walks out and closes the door behind her.

Tomorrow comes sooner than you wish, and so does the game. After careful consideration, (and a long conversation with Nika) you decide to go to the game. Even though you were still upset, and the relationship was far from fixed, Ines was your girlfriend, and you were going to support her, regardless of hurt feelings. Plus, you were still friends with the rest of the girls, and wanted to support them as well.

You still didn't want to talk to Neshy, and you made it a goal to avoid her at all costs. At that point, you knew you were being petty, but you didn't care.

Uconn won the game, Ines scoring three 3s and getting a crucial steal at the end of the third quarter. Even though her head was elsewhere, she played well. As you sit in the stands, you help but feel disappointment. She never cared enough to come to one of your games. She never experienced being in the stands, cheering on her girlfriend like you had. She had no idea what that was like and didn't seem to care to find out. Regardless, you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride for her. You considered staying and waiting for her, like you usually do. You were undoubtedly happy for her, but she hurt you. You wanted to stay. You wanted to hug her and whisper her congratulations. You wanted to kiss all the angry words you'd exchanged away. That's what you wanted.

But what you needed to do was protect your peace. You needed her to care. You needed 50-50, not 75-25. You needed change. Something had to change.

Your heart fought with your feet as you walked out of the stadium, nobody stopping you.

A knock sounded startled you awake. You groaned as you rolled over, ignoring the interruption of your sleep. Well, you tried, but it didn't work, as whoever it was, knocked again. You grumbled as you rolled out of bed, cursing whoever woke you up at– you check your phone –3:23am.

You swing the door open, to see none other than your girlfriend, and boy, did she look pissed. Her eyes were red and puffy, and bags stark against her pale skin.

“Where were you?” She demands.

“Ines, it's three thirty in the fucking morning. Do you really want to do this right now?”

“You seriously didn't come? I thought you'd be mature enough to put one stupid fight behind us, but you clearly aren't. Like, I'd love to hear the reasoning.”

“Neshy-”

“No, no, actually, never mind. I don't wanna hear whatever your bullshit excuse would be.”

“Ines.” she was spiraling right in front of you, and it was the hardest thing for you to watch.

“I don't even know why I came here. You probably don't even have a good reason. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot.” She rambles. “I can't do this, goodnight.”

And with that she walked away. You contemplated letting her go. She told you what she was thinking, and she seemed pretty sure of herself. But you shook your head, clearing them of those thoughts. She didn't mean it, and you both knew that. You knew that if you let her leave, she might not ever come back.

You stepped out of your dorm in your her large tee-shirt and sweats. “I was at the game.” You call after her. She pauses before looking back at you. She'd made it halfway down the hall at that point. Damn that athletic speed.

“W-what?” Her eyes twinkle with surprise and her eyebrows furrow.

“Come inside.” You say, moving to make room for her in the doorway. You watch her as she walks back to you, pausing for a moment, seemingly looking for permission. The politeness is foreign to you, but you respect it.

You nod before following her inside. She walked into your dorm, and stood at the island.

You wordlessly walk to the refrigerator and get the Brita filter that she'd filled, pouring you both glasses of water. You walk up to her, chest to chest, and set the glass on the table. You look at her, and wipe her tears gently. You feel her hands hesitantly hover over your waist. You almost roll your eyes. It didn't have to be like this.

“You came…? But I didn't see you, a-and you didn't say hi after.”

“I know. I'm sorry. I should've said hi, but I was still pissed.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around her neck.

You both look at each other for a beat before you speak again.

“It can't be like this.” She hums and nods in agreement. “I know.”

“I just need fifty-fifty. I understand if you don't have time during the week, you're an athlete, I'm an athlete, and it's bound to happen. I get all of that. But it can't be like this.” You gesture between the two of you.

Ines nods again. “Okay. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed, I didn't mean anything I said, I was just upset.” She mutters shamefully.

“I know.” You say leaning close to her. Your lips ghost across hers and your heart pounds at the way her breath hitches.

Ines pushes her lips against yours, whining so quiet you almost miss it. Almost.

You break the kiss, locking eyes with her once again. “It's late. Let's go to bed. We can talk in the morning.” You whisper. She nods and you can see the exhaustion set in. She probably hasn't slept in days.

You lead her to your room, falling into the familiar rhythm that is cuddling. You face her as she wraps her arms around your waist, your face buried in the crook of her neck. You listen to Ines take a deep breath, inhaling your scent as if you'll disappear. You press a kiss on her collarbone, humming.

“Neshy?” You whisper. She opens one eye, grunting in acknowledgment.

“You ever yell at me in front of the team again, I will beat your ass.” You smile, but she knows you're dead serious.

“No need, KK said she'd beat my ass if I ever made you cry again.” You let out a soft giggle, moving impossibly closer to her.

“Good.”

“Mhm.” She mumbles, closing her eyes once again. You shift up to kiss her lips before returning to your previous position. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

Even though your relationship was far from fixed, there's no harm in a night's sleep before you mend what love broke.

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