#I have been emotionally and/or physically abused my whole life

[legobabyofficial]

udhqhvyjboaitwvyo

[petluck]

some of you "leftists" will see a dude suffering mentally and physically under capitalism and be like "mmm should've introspected harder or maybe tried not being born bad and irredeemable" and call that praxis

[eth3realeve]

Success Story

Angels! This is a big one.

So I've had a very bad relationship with my father my whole life. He's been absent during most of it and when he was present he wasn't of much help. It was impossible to communicate with him and my mom would always manipulate him into turning against me.

My mom has been abusive for 6 years now. And whilst she stopped being physically abusive 3 years ago, she became financially abusive instead. My dad, even though he is physically and emotionally absent, has always provided for us. He pays for our schools, our phones, and religiously sends child support and often even extra money for clothes and entertainment. But mom hasn't been spending a single penny on us for the past three years.

I've been wearing the same three outfits, eating the same meals and basically living in poverty. She swore that my dad never sent her a penny for a year until I saw the receipt last December with my own eyes.

Now, my dad has never communicated with me. He only ever listened to my mom's side and thought for a year now that I was mentally unhinged, that I was planning to hurt my sister and that I was threatening her safety over money even though she spends more than he sends her on me.

I decided last month that I no longer wanted to live like this. To let that woman live her luxurious life with her husband and use me as a scapegoat. So I scripted that my dad got closer to me, and apologized for everything he did and that he spoils me.

Btw, I didn't script that directly. I was scripting for another thing and scripted that this happened before that other thing did.

I suddenly out of nowhere one random day, picked my phone up and texted dad for the first time after a year and a half. I didn't know why I did that, it was automatic.

My dad later called me, and the thing that I never imagined my dad would do happened, he cried in the video call and apologized to me and said that he wants to listen to me and that he wants me to live with him. Now if y'all knew dad you would genuinely think I'm lying. Last thing I expected from my father was to cry at the sight of me.

Weeks later we decided to meet up, and he asked me to tell him my side of the story. And now, he decided to directly provide for me and lost all trust in my mother.

Things have been genuinely getting better and better for me lately, and all those years of abuse feel worth it in a way.

Loa isn't made for the rich or successful, loa is made for the desperate, for the people who want change, and those who believe that they deserve better. Never doubt it.

[july-19th-club]

a while back i read jane eyre for the first time since high school in anticipation of watching the 2006 wilson/stephens miniseries. it's incredible to reread these classic novels as an adult, because while i got all the words and understood the *content* as a teenager, i didn't at all find the book interesting or fun to read. anyway i think one of the reasons that book stood the test of time isn't so much the gothic intrigue and how fucked up rochester and his wife are . he sucks so bad in so many ways . but he keeps needing rescued from stuff and only jane can do it . he fucking breaks an ankle falling off a horse early in her employment with him and she's the one who helps him back to the house . his attic wife sets his bedroom on fire and jane's the one who finds him and puts it out before he dies of smoke inhalation . then attic wife sets the house on fire after jane leaves and the whole place burns to the ground, grievous death and permanent injuries, etc, etc. jane comes back yippee everything's okay again! austen heroes don't get wounded like that because they're far too sedate and busy engaging in social seasons and heathcliff is like not wounded physically so much as destroyed emotionally . but this dude strikes the balance for readers who best enjoy when a man is collapsing of various problems and literally cant survive a day without some governess to pour water on his four-poster so he doesn't fry to a crisp

ALSO . i particularly was interested in the passages just after jane first meets him where she talks a lot about how if he was a normal polite person, or even just like a normal Lord with like, a sense of propriety and good manor house manners, she'd have been shy and awkward and uncomfortable and would have hated him. but i think where some interpretations get it wrong is that she doesn't think his rudeness is HOT. she thinks it's good for her own confidence, in that she knows her own self-esteem and social comfort levels are so low that all the scripts of peerage and society make her crawl into herself and disappear. she doesn't know how to follow the scripts convincingly, she's been emotionally abused her whole life so she has no sense of self-worth, but he doesn't follow the script. which means she doesn't have to worry about following it either. which does wonders for her confidence levels because when she can just act in ways that make sense to her rather than second-guessing whether she will be Approved Of, she can actually be a person. and that's what she first appreciates about him: his ability to (more or less without trying or even noticing) facilitate that for her.

"The incident had occurred and was gone for me: it was an incident of no moment, no romance, no interest in a sense; yet it marked with change one single hour of a monotonous life. My help had been needed and claimed; I had given it: I was pleased to have done something, trivial, transitory though the deed was, it was yet an active thing, and I was weary of an existence all passive."

[lukolathoughts]

Women's rights

(trigger warning. Also, please be kind as I discuss some personal issues. I will block all negative comments, but I welcome opinions.)

Hi everyone, hope you are all doing well. I knew last night was going to be rough. It happens whenever I write a blog post. As soon as I saw that story from Jake yesterday thanking Aimee - Nic's stylist for her help, I knew he would at the Bafta party. What I didn't expect was that Nicola would pose on the red carpet with him for staged and awkward looking photos. I did a double take in astonishment at his white trainers paired with a ill fitting suit, that did not match Nicola's outfit. The photos were stiff and awkward, Nicola forcing a smile of adoration and Jake rarely looking at her. It screamed PR and FAKE FAKE FAKE. This is not us Lukola's being in denial, this just simply what we see with our own eyes.

The question I posed in yesterdays blog titled - 'The crazy woman in the attic' was, what is in the attic exactly? What on earth is going on that Nicola and Luke need to go to these kind of extremes? What secret are they protecting? This cannot be the solution. Nicola, I hope your team sends you this and I will try and be as kind and gracious as possible with my opinions. Also, remember readers these are my opinions. Jakeholes, just block me and move on. As I have said, this is not the place for you.

I am going to go into a bit of personal information about me just to give you some context. I grew up in a extremely unsettled home. My father was physically violent to my mother and I witnessed a lot. I struggled with not being able to save her. I still carry this guilt to this day, and I have never been able to forgive my dad. We left when I was nine, but by that time I had seen a lot. I met my ex when I was 19 and that turned into an emotionally abusive relationship, made all the more harder as I was living with him abroad. When I came home, I was an absolute wreck and I needed that time to heal and be on my own, with support from my family and friends. I was then very lucky to meet my own Colin Bridgerton and that is where we are today. One of the habits I developed as a child to cope and hide I suppose was to watch my television shows. I love my TV shows and movies. It just settles me and I can escape for a few hours. It's no real surprise to me that I adore Bridgerton.

OK, ZG, what does this have to do with Nic? Well, I do love a strong female character and I adore Penelope and I have admiration for Nicola and all she believes in. She is a role model to me. However, the biggest role model in my life other than Buffy, is obviously my mum. She worries me to death that woman and is a Capricorn also, incidentally she is now married to an Aquarius. Stubborn as a mule, but a heart of gold, my mum. I keep going back mentally to wishing I could have done something as a child to help her. As most of you know, I'm a teacher. At the moment, I am working on a project to get young parents back into work or education in deprived areas by improving their literacy, numeracy and other skills. I have loved this project and helping these women has been fantastic. Without saying too much, some of these women have dealt with the worst kinds of abuse I have ever seen or heard. Coercive control is much more prevalent now amongst abusers. I am an empath as well, so I take a lot of this emotion home with me and I guess the fandom and Nicola and Luke have helped me channel this elsewhere and allow me to escape.

I have known gay men my whole life. My first cousin was always very open about his sexuality, even before we understood what it meant. It was just the way he was. I had a gay BFF in primary school, college and all through my twenties I mixed with the albeit minimal gay scene where I live. I have not had much experience with the trans community, I'll be honest, other than visiting the gay bars in Swansea and Cardiff with my friend S. I just don't have the same emotional connection to the trans community as Nicola does. I support rights of women. I shouldn't feel guilty for saying that loud. I fight for their right to work and education and for making a better world for their children. I fight for my own children. I write what I write as a mother myself and especially a mother to a daughter.

One of the most upsetting things in the last few years was the Manchester Bombing. On 22 May 2017, following a concert by the American pop singer Ariana Grande. Perpetrated by Islamic extremist Salman Abedi and aided by his brother, Hashem Abedi, the bombing occurred at 22:31 and killed 22 people. Most of these victims were young women and girls. The murder of Sarah Everard by police officer Wayne Couzen's in 2021 was one of the most sickening cases I had ever read and the media tried to blame Sarah for her own murder for daring to walk home alone at night. Last summer, in Southport, a mad man broke into a little girls dance studio at a Taylor Swift themed dance class and knifed to death three little girls and stabbed countless others. Kyle Clifford, broke into his ex girlfriends house and killed her, her sister and her mother with a crossbow last year also.

These are the kind of stories that keep me awake at night, not whether trans women are allowed to use the women's toilets or not and whatever else. I don't want men in our spaces and I don't think they should be. But, I give Nicola some grace, because she is raising money for a cause she believes in it. I will not begrudge her that. What I do begrudge her for is after successfully raising so much money, she then proceeds to counteract everything she was campaigning for by walking Jake Dunn down the red carpet and presenting him to the media as her 'boyfriend'. To me, this is deeply hypocritical. Jake is known to the industry as a queer actor. Jake is starring in an upcoming BBC drama about trans rights where he plays a queer role. All this has done is upset her fans and enrage the LGBTQ community. Jake's stylist Miller Mode posted a very interesting story post today saying he was a stylist for queers, weirds and beards. How fascinating is that? How many more of these posts will we see and how many of the community will start to turn their backs on Nicola and Jake? Miller mode also refers to Jake as a 'princess' and 'she'.

Jake is also doing press for his show today What it feels like for a girl and he's back on Instagram today promoting trans rights as if last night didn't happen. Maybe he and Nic wish it didn't. She has been eerily silent today so far and I'm sorry but Nic, you made your bed, now you must lie in it. That carriage scene is iconic and partly because Luke was so magnificent in delivering his love declaration. The scene is magic, with chemistry like no other. Luke should have been there last night. I find it fascinating that we have yet to see Jake and Luke interact. I think it is glaringly obvious why, gentle reader. Luke can't lie to save his life. He'd be too busy glaring daggers at Jake, and Jake in turn would be salivating over Luke. It would be hilarious and frankly, I would love to see it. I find the candid photo of Jake eyeing up the hot Love Island contestant last night poetic justice and there is the truth right there. But yet we are still vilified on SM for suggesting Jake is gay and not at all interested in Nicola. This has nothing to do with Nicola, by the way. If I was with Nic, I probably would never stop smiling, but Jake can't bring himself to do it. It's not because she's unattractive, it's because she's literally not his type. Period. She is a woman.

I will continue to stand up for women, including Nicola, but lovely you gotta throw me a bone here. You want your fans to hang around and cheer for you? Then don't repeatedly slap us in the face and undermine our intelligence. Be honest and tell us what you and Luke are hiding in that damn attic, because it isn't Jake Dunn, he's out and proud.

[traumacatholic]

Prayers needed

Tonight I am really just, struggling with life. Trying to look after a person with dementia while also managing my own disabilities and chronic pain is... so much at times. But because my gran isn't at the stage where it impacts her physical mobility, the NHS carers are offering next to no help. And we just simply don't have the funds for private carers who want to charge upwards of £30 an hour (there's a minimum number of hours a week too which is part of the issue as it's more than any funding would cover).

Part of the trouble is that my gran just does not get any relief from her anxieties from me. She solely looks to my mum for care and reassurance. But my mum works from half 8 until 6pm (and doesn't get home until half 6). So she will just spiral all day from anxiety until my mum gets home.

And it's just so emotionally draining. I am not equipped to be a caregiver with someone with dementia. I am no where near as patient as I need to be. I get frustrated, I get upset. All of which makes the situation worse. But at the same time; my gran is verbally abusive to me at times. And she's not like that with literally anyone else. So other people just downplay my own experiences, or make fun of me for expressing the hurt it causes. She does not cooperate with me in the same way that she does with my mum. No matter how kind I am, no matter how patient I am, or the tone in which I say things. Nothing gets through to her.

I just really don't know what to do. I live in a tiny town, so there is just not a lot of support options. The only real options is caregivers from the NHS who aren't interested because she's not at the stage of having her physical mobility impacted and private caregivers which we cannot afford. At times, all of this makes me suicidal. If I have a bad chronic pain day, I do not get to rest. I have sometimes had to run outside in my bare feet to get her to come back inside (if I lock the doors she ends up really upset because she's convinced she's been kidnapped). If I am sick, I do not get to rest during the day because I have to be constantly monitoring her. It's just so exhausting physically and mentally. And it's not fair for her because she's been denied medication, and there's not much support she can currently receive.

I don't know, I just really need prayers for this whole situation

[sweetromanova]

High Risk, Higher Maintenance: Part Seven🖤

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha’s orders: protect the brat politician’s lonely wife. The twist? She might actually like her. (Don’t tell Fury)

Warnings: relationship abuse, emotional/verbal (not physical), stalking, manipulation/gaslighting, intent to hurt, minor character death, mentions of trauma, general emotional distress

Chapter Seven:

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding.

Evelyn stepped into the heart of the Tower like she owned the place, sharp heels clicking across polished floors, silk blouse pristine, expression unreadable behind designer sunglasses.

She hadn’t been invited.

But she had been expected.

You were already seated at the long conference table, legs crossed, posture relaxed but only just. Natasha stood behind your chair, arms folded, jaw tight.

Across from you sat Steve, Sam, and Wanda. Vision hovered at the projection screen. Bucky leaned against the wall like a shadow with a pulse.

Evelyn didn’t greet anyone, didn’t look at you. She just removed her sunglasses with a sharp flick and said: “This is ridiculous.”

Steve didn’t blink. “And yet here you are.”

She turned to him slowly. “You do realise who I am?”

“He does.” Natasha said, calm but there was something in her voice, an edge. “That’s why we let you in without a retina scan.”

You held your breath, waiting for your wife to turn her anger on you.

Evelyn scoffed. “So what, this is the plan? Play victim until some creep takes the bait? That’s your heroic strategy?”

“It’s not fake.” Sam mentioned, arms crossed. “He’s already torn through her life. Her home. Her privacy.”

“She’s not a victim.” Wanda added, voice calm. “She’s the one choosing to fight.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. “And you’re all comfortable using my wife as bait?”

You spoke before anyone else could. “I’m not your wife.”

She looked at you, finally and you didn’t flinch, didn’t stutter.

“Not anymore.” You continued. “This whole campaign has been about control and I’m done playing the accessory. You wanted the narrative back? This is how you get it.”

There was silence. Tense. Icy.

Until Vision broke it. “We’ve already staged a cyber-leak suggesting you’ve separated. Public documents have been prepared. The media will speculate, but you’ll stay composed. Poised. Focused on your campaign. That’s the image we need to maintain.”

“And her?” Maris asked, voice clipped.

“She’ll unravel,” Natasha said softly. “Publicly. Visibly. But on our terms.”

Maris’s jaw clenched.

You didn’t look away.

Finally, she nodded once. “Fine.”

And just like that, Phase One began.

Evelyn’s lips curled. “You think you’re clever. Letting yourself be dangled like meat while everyone here just what? Watches?”

Natasha moved for the first time, a slow step around the chair, leaning slightly close to the politician. 

“Careful.” She said, not quite a threat but not friendly either.

Evelyn turned, gaze narrowing at the redhead. “Is this how this works now? You speak for her?”

“She speaks for herself.” Natasha replied. “But if you try to weaponise her or use her one more time, verbally, strategically, emotionally? I will speak for her.”

Evelyn’s gaze wavered.

“And you won’t like what I have to say.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The black car pulled up to the steps of the Met like any other VIP drop-off. Camera flashes surged. The press line stirred. Whispers broke out like static.

You stepped out alone.

A high-slit  gown with razor-cut lines and nothing to protect you but lipstick and posture. Your chin was up. You looked every bit the wife of Evelyn fucking Prescott.

Except you weren’t anymore.

Not even close.

The cameras loved the drama of it, the estranged wife reemerging after days of silence, following a violent break in at her home. No bodyguards, no handlers, just one perfect image to be devoured.

From somewhere above, a voice hummed in your ear.

“She’s in. Floor perimeter active.” That was Steve, steady and clear.

“Clint’s got north. I’ve got southeast.” Sam, barely audible over wind. “Thermal scan’s clean. For now.”

You climbed the stairs like you didn’t have a team of Avengers threading their way through the crowd. Like your heart wasn’t sprinting.

Natasha’s voice was next. Low. Unmistakable. She didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“Keep your head up. You flinch, he disappears.”

“Copy.” You murmured.

“And if he touches you, I break both his arms.” Natasha growled. “And that’s just for the letters.”

You didn’t smile but you wanted to.

Inside, the opera house glittered with old money and curated tragedy. Velvet walls, gold-leaf balconies, white-gloved waiters. The kind of event Evelyn once considered mandatory.

You belonged here. The ballroom shimmered with guests and somewhere in the crowd: your trap.

He’d been watching you, your house, the cafes you once liked, the burn of your name in anonymous blog posts. But he never showed his face. Not yet. He wanted you alone.

Tonight, he’d think you were. The gala was fake. Or mostly. A real benefit for displaced Sokovians but with two dozen disguised agents, silent triggers on exits and three Avengers with kill clearance.

You moved like nothing touched you, which was a lie. But a good one.

From the mezzanine, Vision watched the crowd with glowing, shifting eyes, running facial recognition and body heat scans.

“One anomaly on level three. Minimal movement. Likely staff or- no. Too still. Watching.”

“Clint.” Steve said, already rerouting. “Your side.”

Clint’s voice came back, distant and edged. “Got him. Back corner, tux too crisp. He’s not drinking.”

“Sniper-ready?” Natasha asked, too calm.

“He moves first.” Clint replied.

You accepted a glass of champagne you wouldn’t drink and mingled near the piano. Eyes flicked toward you, half of the room waiting to talk to you and the other half wanted to.

You said nothing. You didn’t have to.

You turned your head just enough to show the diamond earring you wore, wired with a hidden mic, camera feed bouncing through Vision to the ops van two blocks out.

“He’s watching her. Confirmed.” Vision said. “Elevated heart rate. Eyes tracking.”

“Not approaching.” Natasha muttered. “Why not?”

“Maybe he knows.” Sam’s voice from above. “Maybe he’s smarter than we thought.”

Then: motion.

A ripple through the mezzanine. A man stood from the shadows and made his way toward the back stairwell. Not toward you.

“He’s leaving.” Clint announced, curse half-swallowed.

“No.” Natasha snapped. “He came for something. He doesn’t walk without it.”

You felt it then. That instinct. That pull. 

You turned and locked eyes with a man across the room.

Average height. Black suit. Not out of place.

But it was in the stillness. The way he waited. Not looking at you like he admired. Not like he hated.

Like he owned.

Your chest tightened.

“We have facial match.” Vision said. “No known affiliations. No employment records. Purchased ticket under a false name. Facial traces linked to minor surveillance hits, public transport, a hotel lobby, subway cams. Never more than a few words. Always watching.”

“That’s him.” Natasha growled. “Move- Now!”

“No.” You cut in, voice sharp, low. “Let him come closer.”

A beat of silence. Then:

“You’ve got thirty seconds.” Steve sighed, reluctantly.

He moved. Not toward you. Past you. Just close enough that your perfume might reach him. Close enough that he could hear you say. 

“You missed your chance.”

He froze then smiled. Not the way normal people smile. Like something puppeting a face. His eyes never left yours as he whispered into the air.

“See you soon.” 

⋆⋆⋆⋆

“Shit.” Clint fumed. “He’s good. I had eyes. I lost him.”

“I’ll find him.” Natasha hissed, already moving. “He touched her space. That’s enough for me.”

“Vision, track everything. Every exit. Sam, sky scan. Now.”

You stood frozen for a moment. The glass in your hand trembled.

Then you steadied it, took one deep breath and walked.

You stormed out of the gala alone. Just like you walked in. Except now you were marked. You felt it.

But he was marked, too.

And Natasha Romanoff did not let marks walk away twice.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The doors to the debrief room hissed shut behind you.

No one sat.

Not at first.

The tension hadn’t broken yet, it hovered in the air like static, snapping across nerves. Everyone was upright, alert, every muscle still tuned to the frequency of danger.

You stood in the center, arms crossed tightly, still dressed in the lowkey elegance of the bait operation, sharp black blazer, subtle makeup, hair styled perfectly.

Natasha hadn’t spoken a word since the man disappeared. She was behind you again, back straight, arms folded so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. She didn’t blink, didn’t breathe and she wouldn’t until she knew you were safe.

Steve broke first.

“That wasn’t luck.”

“No.” Wanda’s voice was thin but sharp. “It was methodical. Calculated. He knew how to blend. Knew exactly how close to get.”

Vision’s projection hovered above the center table, rapidly scrolling surveillance. Pausing. Zooming. Enhancing. Frame by frame.

“Four cameras picked him up on the concourse.” Vision reported. “None flagged him. No anomalies. No errors in facial geometry. He had dampeners layered into the structure of his features. Scar placement, slight asymmetry. Artificial.”

“Surgical alterations?” Bruce asked.

“Possibly. Possibly more.” Vision’s tone turned grim. “He didn’t just erase his past. I think he modified his presence.”

“He didn’t look like a ghost.” Sam muttered. “He looked like someone trained not to be seen.”

Natasha finally moved. 

She stepped forward and slammed her hand on the table, not loud but solid. Final.

“He wasn’t working alone.”

Everyone turned toward her.

“That kind of suppression takes planning. Prep. Inside access. You don’t get that clean without funding or instruction. He’s working with someone or for someone.”

“You think this is agency-trained?” Steve asked, frowning.

“Not necessarily.” She said, tightly. “Could be private sector. Could be mercenary. Could be deep state. Doesn’t matter. Whoever he is, he’s been trained. He didn’t just follow her. He studied her. And he might not be the only one.”

She turned to the surveillance feed. Her voice dropped lower. “He knew where the cameras were. Where the exits were. He didn’t flinch when she spoke. He didn’t get cocky. That smile-“

She trailed off.

You swallowed hard.

“It was rehearsed.” You sighed. “Like a script, a show, something.”

Bruce exhaled. “Which means he’s practiced. A hundred times before.”

“How many times has he already gotten close?” Wanda whispered.

No one answered.

“So how do we find him?” Bucky’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“We don’t look for him.” Natasha directed. “Not directly.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

She turned to you but her eyes weren’t soft anymore.

“It means we keep her close. Locked down. Everything monitored. And then…”

“We wait.”

Wanda frowned. “You want to draw him out again?”

“Not like before.” Natasha explained. “He’s not going to fall for the same trick twice. This time, we let him think he’s in control. Let him make the first move.”

Steve still looked unconvinced. “You’re saying we don’t act?”

“I’m saying we don’t scare him off.”

She looked at you again, not cruel but protective in a way that made your chest ache.

“He already crossed a line today. He’ll cross more. And next time…” Her voice dropped to a razor-thin whisper. “We’ll be ready.”

Vision suddenly blinked, projection flickering.

“…I have something.”

Everyone stiffened.

“Backtrace on the ticket purchase. He used a disposable card, recycled through three dummy accounts and a dead online marketplace.” He looked up, expression unreadable. “But the timestamp links to a public library terminal in upstate New York.”

“That’s it?” Bruce asked.

“It’s something.” Natasha stepped closer to the projection. “Cross-reference library access logs with physical descriptions. Height, build, hair color.”

“Already doing so,” Vision replied. “But there are no digital check-ins. He must’ve bypassed authentication.”

“Of course he did.” Sam muttered.

“We’ll build a pattern.” Steve said firmly. “He’ll slip. They always do.”

You didn’t say anything. Just kept your arms crossed over your chest, standing very still.

“He smiled at me.” You murmured.

They all turned toward you again.

“He looked me in the eye and smiled. Like it was the end of a game we didn’t even know we were playing.”

Natasha’s hand slid over yours under the table, her grip was iron, almost reinforcing a promise. “Then we play better.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The compound was quiet by the time Natasha led you upstairs. Your blazer was slung over one shoulder, hair loose now, pins discarded in some forgotten hallway. Your face still felt stiff with long-worn makeup but you hadn’t touched it. You hadn’t even looked in a mirror, you didn’t look forward to that moment.

You could still feel him. That man. His breath. His smile. The way he’d stood close enough to touch you. The way he’s probably always been that close and you just hadn’t known.

And worse, they had.

They could see it the minute he was in the same room as you. The team had picked it apart, noticed what you hadn’t. Every look, every camera blind spot. Every tell you’d missed.

Natasha unlocked the door to her quarters and let you in first but she didn’t turn on the lights. Just let the city glow filter through the tall windows, painting soft stripes across the bed, the floor, her face.

You didn’t stop walking. Actually you started to pace instead, hands gripping your elbows, body taut, eyes restless.

She didn’t interrupt. She just waited. Like she’d seen it coming. Of course she probably bloody had. 

“They saw it.” You said, almost to yourself. “They knew he was wrong. Steve. Sam. Even Vision. They all noticed the minute he was in the same room.”

You turned to her, guilt and helplessness bubbling just under your skin.

“I didn’t notice anything. I thought he was just a guy.” You spiralled. “If he was next to me in the street, if he was my barista, I wouldn’t think twice. I’d probably strike up a conversation. Hell, if I was straight, maybe I’d even ask for his damn number. I would never know.”

Natasha leaned her shoulder against the wall by the window, still watching you.

“That’s the point. He made you think he was nothing. That means he’s good, not that you’re blind.”

“But you saw it.”

“I’m trained to.”

“Then train me.” The words slipped out louder than intended. “I’m the one he’s watching. I’m the one who’s supposed to feel it first. And I didn’t. I never do.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, as if trying to still the panic fluttering under your skin.

“You’re all talking about tailing, access points, line of sight. I don’t even know what the hell I’m looking for. I’m just bait.”

She crossed the room slowly, barefoot and quiet. You expected her to argue, maybe even snap. But she didn’t.

She just slid her fingers beneath your chin and tilted your face up gently. Her expression was unreadable in the low light but her voice was soft.

“You are not just bait.”

You swallowed.

“Then help me not be.”

Natasha sighed through her nose, long and tired. Her forehead rested against yours.

“You want to know how to watch for people like him?” She murmured. “You want to know how to read a room? Predict a move before it’s made?”

You nodded.

“It’s not something I can download into your head. It takes years. And it takes hurting. Which you’ve already done more than enough of.”

Your hands curled in the fabric of her shirt.

“I just… I don’t want to be the only one in the dark.”

She kissed your forehead first. Then your temple. Then lower, the tip of her nose brushing your cheek. Her hands slid down your arms, anchoring you.

“Then we’ll learn in the dark together.”

“Natasha-“

Her mouth captured yours before you could say anything else. It wasn’t rushed, or desperate, or hungry. It was slow. Patient. Intentional.

Her lips moved against yours like she was trying to tell you something without words. Like she was trying to replace all the poisonous thoughts in your head with the feel of her, the steady weight of her hands, the press of her body, the way her thumb rubbed softly at your side.

When she pulled back, your breath hitched.

“You are not behind.” She whispered. “You are not a liability. You are mine and he doesn’t get to make you feel small in your own skin.”

She kissed the line of your jaw. Then your throat.

You felt her fingers slide beneath your shirt, not greedy but reverent. Like she was trying to remind herself you were still here. Still safe.

“You want to learn how to see?” She murmured between kisses. “I’ll teach you. But not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because tonight…” Her hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer. “You need to feel seen.”

You swallowed hard.

Her kiss deepened, warm and grounding. She guided you gently backward, toward the bed, toward the quiet. Her hands roamed, not demanding but sure, anchoring you to every second.

“No more panic,” She whispered. “No more debriefs. Just this. Just me. Let me take your mind off it.”

And this time, you let her.

Natasha kissed you again, deeper this time, a coaxing thing, all patience and control. Her mouth was soft but sure, like she had all the time in the world to prove something to you. That you were safe. That you mattered. That you didn’t need to earn your worth with intel and combat reports.

“Lie down.” She murmured against your lips.

You did, not because she commanded it but because you wanted to. Because the weight in your chest loosened just slightly when she touched you. You felt her knee press onto the mattress beside you, then the other. Her hips straddled yours lightly, body caging but never heavy. Never trapping.

She looked at you in the dark, her face painted in soft streetlight stripes. Her eyes burned with focus, with devotion and it made your stomach twist in ways fear never could.

She kissed down the slope of your neck slowly, her hands finding yours on the bedspread and linking your fingers together.

“You’re not meant to know everything.” She whispered, her lips brushing your collarbone. “Not yet. But this…” Her hands moved, one dragging beneath your shirt, gliding up your ribs. “This I can teach you.”

You gasped quietly as her touch spread heat across your chest, a smooth palm over skin, grounding and light.

She didn’t rush. She didn’t push.

Her fingers moved like she was mapping a language only she knew how to read, the dip of your waist, the line of your ribs, the hollow just beneath your throat.

She held your gaze when her mouth followed her hand, kissing down your sternum, slow enough to make your skin ripple.

“Tell me if you want to stop…” She said softly, brushing your shirt up inch by inch.

“Don’t stop.” You breathed, heart thudding.

She smiled, not a smirk, not a tease. Something gentler. Almost sad.

“Good girl.”

Her kisses were slow, each one a little lower, a little warmer. She mouthed at your skin like she was dragging heat from beneath it. Her fingers were sure when they pushed your shirt up over your head and tossed it aside. Then her hands covered you, palms broad, fingers splaying. She kissed the top of one breast, then the other, her lips reverent, tongue flicking just enough to make your hips twitch.

“Beautiful.” She murmured into your skin. “Still mine.”

You whimpered, hands finding her hair, the strands soft between your fingers.

She pressed her hips lightly against yours, and you felt the heat of her even through layers, the ache of it, the tension. But she didn’t grind. Didn’t demand. Just stayed. Just made you feel like your body was a home and not a trap.

You arched up into her as she kissed lower, dragging her tongue across your belly. Her hands cupped your waist, then your thighs, then between them, and your breath caught when she finally settled between your legs.

“Let me make you forget everything else.” She spoke, voice rough now, her own restraint unraveling.

“Please.” You whispered.

And when her mouth met you there, warm, open, slow, you felt your thoughts scatter.  She worked you with patience, like she had nowhere else to be, like her whole world had narrowed to the sound of your breathing and the way your thighs trembled against her shoulders. Her tongue moved in slow, perfect circles, never too fast, never too shallow. She learned you like a song, listened for every pitch change, every stutter of breath.

One hand held your thigh, the other slid up to take your hand. She squeezed when you cried out, not to control you but to anchor you.

“I’ve got you.” She murmured against you. “You’re not alone. You’re never alone.”

Your body arched. Your legs trembled. And when release hit you, it came like heat breaking through storm clouds, sudden, intense, all-consuming. She didn’t stop until the tremors faded, until your hand went limp in hers.

She kissed the inside of your thigh once more before sliding back up your body, her touch still warm, still slow.

She lay beside you, arms curled around your waist, one hand brushing your cheek.

You buried your face in her neck, dizzy, breathless.

“I needed that.” You whispered, breathlessly. 

“I know.” She said. “I’ll remind you again tomorrow, if I have to.”

You smiled into her collarbone.

For a moment, the world didn’t exist outside the sheets.

Only the dark. Only her. Only the quiet truth of being wanted, even in your weakness.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The following night, when the sun went down and the regular agents went to bed. The Avengers wing in the compound wasn’t sleeping. It was humming, low, under the skin, like a migraine before it breaks. Fluorescent lights buzzed in strips above. A deep chill clung to the concrete walls, too clinical, too still.

You sat in the corner of the room, a blanket draped over your shoulders but offering no warmth. Your coffee had gone cold an hour ago. You hadn’t touched it as you watched the team meet dead end after dead end.

Natasha stood across the room, pacing slow, tight circles, the kind only trained minds walk when they’re trying to not look like they’re unraveling.

No one spoke.

Then Vision's head tilted, a fraction too sharp.

He stood in front of the holographic display, fingers twitching in midair as data flowed across the wall like rain. Nothing overt. Just traffic patterns. Surveillance taps. A silent chase.

You could hear him process before he spoke. “That’s odd.”

Steve looked up from where he was half-sitting on the table. “What is?”

Vision’s eyes didn’t move. “A recursive signal. Embedded in one of the masked feeds we intercepted. It shouldn’t be active.”

Sam leaned in. “Hydra?”

“No.” Vision said, quiet. “Ours.”

The silence cracked.

You frowned. “What do you mean ‘ours’?”

“It’s a SHIELD protocol signature. Legacy code.”

Natasha stopped pacing, turned slowly, head tilted just a fraction. “How old?”

Vision’s eyes shifted left, right, tracking and calculating.

“Five years decommissioned. Possibly more.”

He moved his hand and a thread of data magnified, blooming like a virus across the screen. It wasn’t what it showed, it was what it didn’t. Whole segments of metadata were blank but too clean. The kind of redaction that didn't come from outside forces.

Natasha stepped closer. “What is that?”

Vision blinked. “I believe... it is something that was intentionally hidden inside our own systems. A backdoor loop. A directive.”

The screen flickered.

For a moment, it felt like the lights dimmed, just slightly. A pulse of static skipped across the feed, and then-

A new display bloomed. It didn’t load in, it was pushed. Not from Vision’s system, from somewhere else.

All at once, the lights in the room shifted to red.

Alarms didn’t sound. There were no sirens. This was deeper than that. A system override, slick and silent. A forced playback loop began.

Onscreen was grainy surveillance footage of a bedroom.

Your bedroom.

Flickers of you and Evelyn. Ordinary movements. You brushing your teeth. Her checking her phone in the hallway. You laughing at something out of frame. Quiet. Domestic. Innocent.

Until you saw the timestamp.

Six years ago.

You flinched.

Steve stepped forward, stunned. “Is this... live?”

Vision answered without turning. “No. Stored. Someone embedded it in a classified directive.”

And then, the voice. Male. Detached. No name. No emotion.

“SUBJECT: P4-06 shows stable behaviour in proximity to Subject Prescott. Marital cohesion is within projected strain thresholds. Recommend continued exposure and minor domestic disruption stimuli. Subject remains unaware.”

Your ears rang.

You didn’t breathe.

Sam stepped back from the monitor like it burned.

“What the hell is this?”

Then another file loaded. A table of codenames. 

PROJECT: FIDELITY

Classification: VCS (Volatile Civilian Suppression)

Status: Dormant - Override Access Only (Level 7+)

Command Sign Off: Director Nicholas J. Fury 

Command CO-Sign Off: Deputy Maria Hill

Agent Lead: C. Barton

Your name appeared at the bottom.

Not as a civilian, a codename put next to it.

SUBJECT: P4-06

Operational Use: Proximity Destabilisation Vector. 

Target: Prescott, Evelyn. 

Risk Level: Contained. 

Emotional Contamination: Within acceptable thresholds.

Status: Remains Unaware

“Stop.” You whispered.

No one moved.

The audio played again, that same line. Over. And over.

Subject remains unaware. Subject remains unaware.

Your eyes snapped to Natasha. She wasn’t looking at the screen. She was looking at you.

Then you stood. Slowly. As if rising too fast might make this more real.

“What is this?”

No one answered.

“Someone answer me!” Your voice cracked, raw. “What the fuck is this?!”

Wanda looked sick. Steve opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Then Clint said it. “I thought it was dormant.”

You turned to him, catching Natasha’s head whip towards him just as fast. “You knew?”

“I thought it had been shut down. Years ago. It was black-level, low interference, passive. Surveillance only. That’s what Fury said.” Clint excused. “I didn’t know it went this far. I just installed a few things.”

“A few things- You installed cameras in my house? In my bedroom?!”

“It was a surveillance order.”

“Surveillance.” You repeated, the bile in your throat suddenly moving a lot faster. “Of me. Of us.”

Clint tried to reach for you, firm hands that once would comfort you and tease, now he made you feel sick. “I didn’t know it was still running. I swear to God.”

“Don’t.” You stepped back, turning towards Natasha, who hadn’t spoken a word.

Did she know? Did she know about this?

“Tell me you didn’t meet me because of this.”

“No.” That’s all she said. No excuse. No emotion.

“Tell me I wasn’t a mission before I was a person.”

Silence.

She said nothing.

You laughed, bitter and shattered. “Jesus Christ.”

Steve finally moved. “We didn’t know. None of us. This isn’t- This isn’t what SHIELD was supposed to be-“

“But it was, wasn’t it?” You snapped. “It was always this. Hidden files. Coded language. People made into tools.”

You turned to them, your voice breaking. “I’m a fucking subject. This is my life. I’ve lived in fear, my house keeper has lived in fear for so long because you wanted to shut Evelyn fucking Prescott up? You’ve watched me undress. Use the bathroom. Sleep?! For SIX years.”

You felt sick. “She was a weapon. But what was I?” You cried out. “The fucking trigger?”

No one answered.

You looked at Natasha one last time. A part of you screamed she didn’t know. Of course not.

But then why wasn’t she saying anything? Why wasn’t she holding you, the way she had every night for the past four weeks? Was it guilt? Did she really know? The words she blissfully murmured into your skin last night played in your head 'You’re not meant to know everything... Not yet'. Had she really played you like this? Taunted you at your most vulnerable?

You couldn’t take the looks anymore, the hollow apologies, the pitiful eyes from people who called themselves heroes. Heroes who didn’t know shit about who they worked for.

So you turned and walked.

Someone called after you, once, maybe twice. 

You didn’t care. You had nowhere to go. 

You had nothing left but that was better than staying.

[project-sekai-facts]

What grinds my gears is what when people say that the reason Kana5 is bad due to it trying to make Mafumon sympathetic.

A couple have even gone as far as saying that Kana5 is as bad as Toya5 for the same reason and I-

Look. I deeply understand the idea of abusers being more complicated than simply “evil trash” is hard to comprehend. And I may sound insensitive but,

They need to grow up. They should not let their biases cloud their judgement and assume something is bad just because a piece of media has something they personally don’t like

the difference between harumichi and mafuyumum is their awareness.

harumichi - fully aware of what he is doing, fully aware his son is his own person and does not stop him despite heavy disapproval

mafumum - completely oblivious to what she is doing to mafuyu, projecting an idealised version of mafuyu onto her (and possibly an idealised version of herself)

harumichi working toya to the bone is him applying how he learnt to toya. the intent was not to physically/emotionally harm toya but that is what ended up happening (physical exhaustion is to be expected, he should not have forced toya to keep working but he deals with the same so he probably doesn't think it's a big deal). that said, he is fully aware of the fact he is taking away from toya's childhood, and admits this in concerto that toya's life was not "normal".

mafumum is entirely unaware of her abuse to mafuyu. this is repeatedly made clear in events post sayonara persona. mafudad relays to her what mafuyu tells him and she's incredibly distressed to learn that she'd been hurting mafuyu and she doesn't know what she did wrong. she can be manipulative, but she's not aware that she's being malicious, she thinks she's genuinely doing what's best for her child who she loves. there's also some context clues such as her young age compared to other parents, the fact she doesn't have a job and the fact she's at a lower social standing to her husband that suggest she may also be projecting the life she didn't get onto mafuyu.

harumichi being given the attempted sympathetic backstory doesn't work. he is neglectful towards his son, but is slowly easing out of these ways a little bit. toya has already begun to make ammends without the need for making harumichi sympathetic. he's a bad parent who did a bad thing knowingly.

with mafumum it is justified. in her first appearance, we see her from the biased viewpoint of kanade, who sees her as a cold and neglectful parent towards mafuyu. however from mafuyu's pov, she is a loving mother who is misguided in how she shows this love. this is what unreliable notes is about. mafumum is a bad parent who did a bad thing unknowingly. she is sympathetic because she is a troubled mother coming to terms with the fact she ruined her child's life.

both characters are loved by their children by virtue of them being their parents. the story is going to convey that no matter how bad they are as people. yes, forgiving abusers in fiction is overdone and to some degree unrealistic, however we do not yet know if that is where the story will go. all we know is that there will be a reconciliation. but even if mafumum specifically gets forgiven, it would not be unjustified. i feel like the first impression we get of mafumum from Kanade POV left a strong impact on a lot of people that they can't let go of. the whole point of the current arc is to let that go. the game builds her up as this malicious antagonistic force so that it can deconstruct that when we get to see her from an unbiased POV. she's not a villain like many people make her out to be, she's a human who made a mistake. a very bad and very big mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. she is a loving mother who fucked up really badly because she was too obsessed over perfection to actually see her daughter for who she is.

if the writers try and make us forgive harumichi though fuck them he fucking sucks. like i feel like toya will because he's like that yknow but i don't think the audience should feel sympathetic towards him.

[mollymijh]

Tadaai and Stobotnik are the same ship and I can prove it!

(Ok maybe I’m exaggerating a bit but unfortunately the brainrot has taken over and this is all I can currently think about)

Ok so firstly we have Dr Ivo Robotnik and Ainosuke Shindo; both antagonists within their stories, both incredible in their own rights being the best in their fields, and both are mad geniuses. They are both primarily referred to by their nicknames by the other characters (Eggman for Robotnik and Adam for Ainosuke), both are primarily associated with the colour red, they both unique hairstyles, and both share a love for dance.

They also both have an obsession with a blue haired teen (ok very different types of obsession tbf but it’s funny to me).

Next we have Agent Stone and Tadashi Kikuchi, who are both also very similar; they are both employed under the previously mentioned characters, they are loyal to a fault to those characters even if they don't always treat them best, both of them almost exclusively wear suits throughout their entire screen times, and, if I share my own opinion, they both also have extremely pretty eyes.

Now onto the similarities of them as couples.

Both Robotnik and Ainosuke are shown to manhandle Stone and Tadashi at various points, leading to accusations from their respective fandoms of physical abuse.

However, in both cases, most fans recognise that Stone and Tadashi don’t just put up with the ‘abuse’ but seem to actively enjoy it, leading to kink-shaming towards Stone and Tadashi for their unconventional relationships with their bosses, but it's generally accepted as they match each other's freaks to a dangerous degree.

Stone and Tadashi also both only seem to smile when around Robotnik and Ainosuke, taking on more neutral or even annoyed expressions when around anyone else.

With both ships it’s also apparent that they have years of history together. With Tadaai they have known each other since childhood and had a falling out in their teens which is the catalyst for the entire plot of sk8 and what led to Ainosuke becoming unhinged.

While it's clear Stobotnik don’t have the same kind of messy history with each other, it still seems true that the two have worked with each other for some time considering how comfortable they are with one another, with Stone being the only human being Robotnik actually tolerates and allows close to him.

Robotnik and Ainosuke also both have very difficult relationships with their families, with Robotnik having grown up as an orphan, never knowing family until his grandfather entered into his life in sonic 3, and Ainosuke having a family but being physically and emotionally abused by them from a young age.

In both cases their family also cause a break in their relationships with Tadashi and Stone. Robotnik fires and turns his back on Stone in the 3rd movie, choosing to believe his grandfather over Stone after Stone urges Robotnik not to trust his grandfather after discovering he had been deceiving them the whole time.

Ainosuke and Tadashi’s relationship also breaks down due to Ainosuke's family, as Ainosuke’s father burning his skateboard results in Tadashi refusing to speak up for him in his defence, causing a split between them that’s lasts for nearly a decade.

Another similarity is the use of pet names and insults within their relationships as both Robotnik and Ainosuke use previously derogatory terms towards their other halves as a term of endearment during the emotional climax of their stories.

Ainosuke often refers to Tadashi as ‘dog’ using it throughout the whole show almost entirely as an insult, seemingly to remind him of his place within their relationship, until the end of the final episode where it takes on an affectionate meaning as he uses it in what comes pretty close to what fans consider to be a marriage proposal.

With Robotnik he had previously referred to Stone as a ‘sycophant’ (a person who acts obsequiously towards someone important in order to gain advantage) in the 2nd movie, however in the climax of the 3rd film he instead refers to him as a ‘syco-friend’ shortly before he sacrifices himself to save the world, changing a previous insult to acknowledge his own softer feelings towards Stone . In both cases this use of previously derogatory terms are used to signal a change in their relationships and the mending of them.

Robotnik similarly uses unconventional words of affection when talking to Stone, taking his compliment of Stone's latte's from the 1st movie and turning it into as close to a love confession as we could possibly get from these two.

To make my final point I'd also like to point out that with both ships the climax of their stories is reached when one realises what the other means to them. Robotnik saves the entire world and sacrifices himself simply because he knows that Stone is there on earth and that he’s the only person that ever truly cared about him, sacrificing himself for Stone.

With Ainosuke his story reaches a climax when he remembers what it’s like to have fun when skating again and the realisation that the whole reason he used to enjoy it so much was because he had Tadashi by his side and that he had always been there by his side the whole time.

Basically I really love both of these ships and they're all I could think about these last few days.

In conclusion

[psychoticallycelestial]

PART-I

I think some of y'all don't really get the concept of LOA/Pure Consciousness. Firstly, i will not be entertaining any messages asking me to manifest stuff for them or induce pure consciousness for them. Bloggers won't because they don't owe you anything, you came here on your own, this is something as easy as breathing and they have a life of their own outside of Tumblr. Bloggers help you, introduce new methods to make it easy for you, to help you in every way possible, yet some people are like Can't you induce the void for me? , Like seriously, NO, this is something so easy, you are making yourself the problem, the mountain is YOU, not bloggers, not loa coaches , no one but YOU. Y'all keep asking the same questions every single time, it is one simple thing A LAW NEVER FAILS.

What you believe is what comes true, as simple as that.

Believe and get it, SIMPLE.

No one will reveal their personal success stories just because you want proof for LOA/Void State. Why do you even want proof? Either you believe it or you don't. Asking for proof simply implies that you're uncertain and you don't believe it. If you're losing faith in LOA, then it's your fault, not anybody else's. Why would you bully people to reveal their success stories, when it is a matter of personal choice.

Manifesting is simple and easy af, you're overcomplicating and it is your fault, stop begging someone else to dedicate their whole lives to manifest for YOU, if you think that manifesting stuff for others is possible, then you can also believe that you get what you want in a millisecond too.

Everything is the same, LOA is the same as before, Shifting is and Void state too.

If you wanna be on Tumblr 24/7, sure then go ahead. You're not even trying, let alone doing. You lose belief after one try. Law of assumption doesn't work like that.

You cant blame bloggers and people with success stories for not being humanly enough, for not being empathetic, and compassionate to help you but know this one thing, they're not here to babysit you with stuff, and crying about it wont get you anywhere, its basic soul nature and you're reaffirming failure, it is your reality, your consciousness and hence your damn fault.

I've been in the community for xyz years and still havent got results, so what gurl? I was in here for 4 years, when i was at my worst, i was mentally, emotionally and physically abused and now? im in my villa with my man by my side, and it is because i didnt give up. So, stop calling bloggers and people with success, liars and people with no humanity.

Loa bloggers aren't a place where you dump your trauma and ask them to help you improve. Even if you do ask for help, it is their choice whether to help you or not. They did not sign up for this and never will, they have time and they share their experience with you, that's it.

You need to be independent of everything, trust yourself and your innerman, if you do it, you wont need anything and you'd manifest/shift easily.

You have more than enough info on this topic and it is your choice to do whatever with it, you cant blame other people just because you obsess over desires and reaffirm failure. Bloggers aren't here to baby you like a toddler and help you walk, they can give you advice, introduce methods but you gotta gather the strength and trust yourself.

Now, please don't go into people's asks, asking how do i trust myself? Can I? Why? Is it real? Please give me some more advice, i need some more help, i cant do this anymore and stuff like that

And yes, people are selfish, welcome to the real world love, but loa bloggers are good enough to provide you with help, with advice and methods consistently without asking for anything in return.

You wake up the same way everyday because you dont fuckin' trust yourself, your consciousness, and the void state is realistic af, people entered it as kids very often and forgot.

Seriously, nobody cares and nobody will care, you're on your own in this community, in this world, this is harsh, but real, manifesting is so easy you never needed anything to do it, but yeah, you're here rn, wavering and FORCING stuff instead of Relaxing and Letting it go.

Thank you and i will not answer the same questions again and again in my DM, the law never fails, you need to stop bullshitting with bloggers and actually do stuff, like assuming, persisting etc.

No one other than you can get it done for you, no matter how much you cry about it and whine. Bloggers, Methods, Subliminals aid you, they are not the main and the easiest way to get there. It's all about what you believe and it always has been.

-Valentina

[mylittleredgirl]

unpopular opinion but i really enjoy "field of fire," the ezri dax "to catch a serial killer" episode. for all the scenery chewing and deep space nine's continued vulcan smear campaign, i'm not going to pretend it's objectively the best of the ezri a-plot episodes, but it's my favorite for what it reveals about her.

jadzia was emotional, headstrong, and sometimes impulsive (as was curzon), but ezri is reckless.

of course she is! she's young! she's unqualified for everything that has happened to her, and honestly, so are all her peers. she ran away from a fucked-up home to starfleet at a time when, as we saw with nog, they're field-promoting cadets at top speed to fill the ranks as starfleet suffers massive war casualties. she's more or less the same generation as the red squad cadets on the valiant who decided to fight the dominion war by themselves behind enemy lines.

and she wouldn't be ezri dax otherwise. the reveal in "equilibrium" is a secret known only the symbiosis commission and the starfleet offiers who were physically in the room. to the medical staff on the destiny and ezri tigan herself, the odds of rejection from an improper trill joining are overwhelmingly likely and fatal. but ezri still volunteers to join with dax! she's probably going to die in this uniform anyway, right?

jadzia was a focused, rule-following, straight-a student before she met the party worm, and it took dax a season or two to loosen her up, but ezri was probably already unhinged.

so of course she's the one who decides to take her inner murderer off the leash at the slightest provocation. sisko asks her to help odo out, and ezri somehow interprets this as feeling like she's solely responsible for finding the killer when she only took one class at the academy in forensic psychology and didn't even like it. odo and o'brien are continuing their own investigation off-screen the whole time! meanwhile, she probably had to look up the trill emergence ritual in a book. she has not read the fine print on ANY of this.

and she sticks with this crazy plan, even when it becomes clear that she's right on the edge of becoming a danger to society. but ezri's whole starfleet career, maybe her whole young life of ignoring and plotting her escape from her emotionally abusive family, certainly her whole joined experience, has been lived right on the edge.

all the scenes she has with joran in and around quark's bar to me are her technique for staying grounded in reality. they often happen after joran pushes her too far, so she uses being public as a distraction from that one-on-one intensity—even though it means she looks insane and everyone's staring at her. even joran is like ".... shouldn't you have told sisko about me?" she is full in dax stubbornness on this deeply dubious plan.

and it works!! and in the final account, i think she liked it a little: the power of playing a killer, the power of being stronger than joran, and the soft ending she has with him during reintegration.

her symbiont, her whole life on the station, her friends, her romantic interests, they were all jadzia's first, but jadzia was afraid of joran and would never have played this game. in this one way, ezri has a closer relationship to her unearned symbiont than jadzia did.

ezri's beta canon trajectory of switching to a command track is okay, but it makes me sad to think she'd ditch her chosen career entirely. i could see her getting into criminal psychology. her brother's a murderer (she hasn't unpacked that AT ALL), one of her past hosts was a murderer... with that backstory, she'd do numbers in a federation law & order procedural series. i'd watch it.

but honestly, in the federation spirit of rehabilitation, she might be uniquely qualified to treat violent criminals as well, rather than hunting them down. she could reach in and heal that part of herself and then use that experience to reach others.

[joejhang]

KEVIN DAY DISCOURSE

i actually didn't realise kevin haters existed but here it is. i am a defence attorney and my client is kevin day because the discourse i see about him is fucking crazy sometimes.

re: leaving the nest.

i literally just made a post about this but let me dig a little deeper into it. yes, i think leaving the nest in the way that he did definitely did fuck jean over hugely no one is denying that. yes, it was definitely a betrayal when you look at it from jean's pov. yes, there was probably another way of doing it that could've worked things out better (i have no idea what this would be but there might be something). yes, he did it fully knowing the consequences and what would happen to jean afterwards. yes, jean has every right to feel betrayed and to feel anger towards kevin, though i would argue his feelings for kevin in current canon are complicated and kevin's "abandonment" is only one factor in all of it.

however i said it in my post and i'll say it again here: genuinely what would you have him do? think about it for a second: riko has just beaten kevin half to death and broken his hand, literally shattered it with a racquet. even though kevin does recover, in this moment he (and everyone else) thought his career was over. and it's said by wymack, jean and neil that exy is the only thing kevin has in his life. it's what his life has revolved around since his mother's death. without the ability to play, jean makes it pretty clear that kevin literally would've killed himself. wymack also says that if kevin can't play, he can't survive. and that's if riko/tetsuji didn't get to him first. if kevin had stayed in the nest he literally would've died point blank. and jean probably would've as well, since he would have no one to keep his promise to then.

also it's actually insane to say you hate kevin or are angry at him for leaving the nest. would you genuinely have wanted him to stay there? at the place where he had been abused since he was a young child, the place where he was physically, emotionally and mentally broken through cult conditioning and violence? like it took immense desperation and courage to leave such an environment, where he had basically lived his whole life and built his whole life around. yes, it was selfish and had consequences for jean, but it wouldn't have been any better if he had stayed. if you're someone who is angry at or dislikes kevin for leaving the nest genuinely consider the alternative. it's literally so much so so so much worse. kevin stays and riko/tetsuji kill him for being dead weight or he literally kills himself, and then jean follows, and then aftg no longer exists because kevin day is literally the fucking catalyst for the whole thing. you can hold two truths in your mind at once. 1. it was a selfish thing to do and 2. it was the only thing to do. think about that.

re: his relationship with jean

i am fully aware that kevjean have a plethora of problems in the current canon. but i raise you this: almost all of them are because of the environment their relationship formed in. and while kevin is described to have mostly been the bystander in that relationship, kevin did not just get off scot-free in the nest either. jean specifically states that kevin suffered a lot in the nest, mostly emotionally and psychologically, and the damage and lingering effects can still be seen in tgr. i think what people need to realise is that kevin and jean were both bystanders to each other. neither of them were in any position to jump in and save the other, so before everyone starts bitching about kevin just "letting" riko hurt jean think about the fact that kevin doesn't "let" riko do anything, kevin is essentially riko's pet on a leash. riko is literally canonically described as kevin's "owner" do you guys really think kevin had any power to stop riko? and same with jean, he also "stood by" when riko broke kevin's hand and beat him half to death, and i don't really think either of them did anything wrong because genuinely what the fuck do you do in that situation. they were both so powerless and probably fucking terrified. they did the best they could by helping each other in the aftermath of all the abuse. can we free jean from the relentless babying and victimisation obviously he is a victim no one is denying that but kevin and jean's relationship (while obviously problematic and messy) was not one where jean was kevin's victim because i consider them both sort of joined in their suffering in the nest. yes to different degrees in different categories but the truth still stands: they were together in their suffering. i don't consider either of them victims of the other because that's just genuinely so unfair and uncharitable to both of them.

in regards to his current dynamic with jean, there are obvious issues. it's not quite a friendship, as they both say, and it has a lot of problems in its dynamic, because they're both aware of the nest's toxic hierarchy between them, and the difference in their "status" at the nest (kevin being a glorified pet and jean being merely property). it doesn't make for the healthiest or most balanced dynamic, but i think what's important to realise is that they both have very little control over it. what's also important to understand is that they don't really have ill intentions for each other. they don't wish harm upon each other and honestly i would say they care about each other and want the best for each other. people can be rubbed the wrong way about kevin's bossiness and the lingering bitterness between them in tgr but i honestly think that's just always been a part of their relationship. also kevin is literally always bossy he's the same way with andrew and neil they just respond to it differently. also i think kevin and jean were the closest thing they each had to a friend growing up, so i think that's important to take into consideration.

side note: i do think kevin was well aware of jean's feelings for him back in the nest. or he at least had his suspicions. but on one hand he was too focused on the court and the game to indulge an actual discussion about it and on the other hand it's probably better for both of them that it was kept mostly on the down low because it never would've happened or worked out anyway.

so tldr: kevin is undoubtedly a flawed, messy, imperfect character. he can often be selfish and sometimes "cowardly", if we're being particularly ungenerous, but sometimes i think the fandom takes on too much of neil's disdain for kevin and his coping mechanisms/responses to trauma. but the difference is, neil understands and just doesn't really care but i really don't think the fandom has thought this one through. you can hold two truths at once people. anyway yeah.

[ckret2]

Still love howling void being Bill's first. Makes the fact he talks about her twice in tbob milleniums and several partners later kind of sad and very hilarious

I've gotta break this down, this demands itemization. She comes up three times total in TBOB and they are:

denying he dated the void, it was totally just a coffee date

a hidden message on the romance page that says "I MISS THE VOID"

hidden away in the deluxe edition, on a page talking about various BS holidays, "I briefly dated knew a howling void" while sharing a holiday he learned from her even though he's not fully convinced it's a real thing, which means she made an impact on him, he thinks unprompted about things she told him, long after they parted ways bits and pieces of his life have been shaped by her

—and good god if you're a fan neck-deep in character analysis that's just enough info to make you rabid.

I headcanon the howling void as one of Bill's... well, not best relationships, because it was pretty shit (100% Bill's fault)—but one of his emotionally deepest relationships. Specifically because it was his first.

Because that means he hadn't yet learned what he's like in relationships (selfish, controlling, manipulative, progressively more emotionally & then physically abusive, and thus doomed to destroy the relationship), so he went into it thinking "this could last forever" instead of "this is a fling that'll last a couple centuries at best before it inevitably self-destructs for reasons completely outside my control"—which means he put up way fewer emotional walls and facades.

He let her get a whole lot closer than most partners because he hadn't yet learned the hard way that letting someone get close hurts when he loses them—and he will lose them. Because he sucks.

[urloversdreamgrl]

The Bear S3 and the Choices We Make

Ok. After a second watch of S3, I'm feeling a little bit more optimistic about the future. Trust - it's a sad ending. It's my worst nightmare for Sydney. But there's still hope, and that all lies in what Carmen and Syd decide to do next. Season 3 Spoilers - read at your own risk :)

In S3 E10 Forever, we see our two mains go through a breakthrough. Starting with Carmen, he finally confronts his former boss (who has a name, i think, but fuck him, I ain't using it). It's the first (and only time) that we see Carmen proactively voice his resentment. He avoids his mom (rightfully so imo). He never got the chance with Mikey. But he approaches him, expects the man to have repent (maybe), or at the very least, have a little remorse.

He doesn't. He regrets nothing. In fact, he takes credit for Carmen's success: his hard work, his skills, and his talent. He tells Carmen that he should be thanking him, and that's not even the worst of it. No, for me, it is when he says

Carmen: My life stopped. Chef: That's the point, right? [...] You wanted to be great. You wanted to be excellent. So you got rid of all the bullshit, and you concentrated, and you got focused, and you got great. You got excellent. It worked. You're here. Look at all this

Sound familiar? It should. It's the same sentiment that Carmen said in the Season 2 finale. Remember, he said,

I wasn't here. Right? What the fuck was I thinking? Like I was going to be in a relationship? I'm a fuckin' pyscho. That's why I'm good at what I do. That's how I operate. I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could focus, and I could concentrate.

Carmen's thoughts about himself aren't even his own. They were drilled into him by a man who wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire. He was emulating the abusive behaviors and patterns that crushed him, that gave him "uclers, panic attacks, and nightmares" on the people that he cares about. On his sister, on Richie, on Tina and Marcus. and especially on Sydney, who is the only one who knows exactly how bad it can get. He's hurt those closest to him. He hurts them daily. And for what? And for why? For his own ego.

And this realization leads us to Carmen's first cry.

For three whole seasons, we see this man lose his idolized brother to suicide, witness his alcoholic mother physically, emotionally, and mentally abuse him, and experience mental degradation to the point where it affects his physical health. Not once did he shed a tear. This is the first time Carmen Berzatto lets himself cry. And I think this is the best thing for him. If he chooses to acknowledge the err of his ways, turn back course, and begin again, I think The Bear could be what he wanted it to be. He needs to decide to stop running, stop fighting himself and everybody around him. He needs to let go. Let it rip, right?

However, if this is what he decides to do, the cards ultimately fall into Sydney's hands.

If anybody's been through hell and back, it's Ms. Sydney Adamu. All season she's been forced to work in a volatile environment, putting herself between Carmen and whoever's the victim of his anger. She has her ideas shut down, her skills demeaned, and her credit is outright non-existent. Staff keeps quitting; they're not making any money; and Cicero and Co. is doing some shady background shit.

She's trapped, but not really. Not until she signs that Partnership Agreement. But like she told her dad in S2 E9 Omelette, she doesn't think she has another one in her. She can't have The Bear fail like Sheridan Road. She doesn't want to make the same mistakes she did last time. She wants to grow and learn and make her mark on the industry - prove she's not a failure.

She's waiting for Carmen to make good on his promises from The Table Scene, but he's not.

"You deserve my full focus." But his focus is not on her. Remember the Carmen that noticed when something was off with her? Remember the "say more?" or the "what's up with you?" Remember when they worked together, when the menu was truly theirs? Where was Sydney's "margin" moment? What did Carmen do this scene that signaled to Sydney that he was there and present.

"I couldn't do this without you." He does everything without her. Don't even get me started. From the menu to the list of nonnegotiables. Syd gets to make no decisions after being forced to make ALL the decisions. What is she there for? To be Carm's wrangler, his doormat? What has he does to convince her that she is invaluable?

He's egotistical. He's verbally abusive. He's the exact person that she warned him not to be. That he assured her that he wouldn't be in S1 E3 Brigade. She said,

You know I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different. [...] But you just didn't really listen, and if this is going to work the way I think we both want it to work, I think we should probably try to listen to each other. The reason why I'm here, and not somewhere else or for someone else, is because I think I can stand out here. I can make a difference here. We could share ideas. I could implement things that make this place better. And I don’t wanna be wasting my time, working on another line or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don’t care about.

He didn't follow through the first time, so she left. But now, it's different. She's put her blood, sweat, and tears into this place. She's made a place (a home even) at The Bear. Leaving is not as simple anymore.

S1 Syd would've taken that CDC offer in a heartbeat. But building something and it failing (like The Bear. like Sheridan Road.) is terrifying. Slowly but surely, Carmen has been chipping away at her confidence and her fire. So much so that good things, like The Offer or the review of her risotto from The Beef, don't feel like good things.

Sydney's Panic Attack is HUGE for her character. We see Sydney at her lowest: her most frightening and vulnerable. She's uncertain. She's in a constant state of panic. And the person that she trusted with her fears and insecurities facilitated this, drove her to this point. It's heartbreaking. I cried when I saw it. No one would blame her for jumping ship. At this point, I encourage it (but she has to talk about it, acknowledge it. no running).

Now, if Carmen decides to change his ways, he'd have apologized to Sydney twice without changed actions. She'd have to believe him after many, many broken promises. At this time, she doesn't trust him, can't rely on him. But when having to decide between staying or going, will she try to trust him again?

Will she? Should she?

That's where I'm at so far. I have more thoughts, but I'll write those out when I get back from my weekend trip.

[sosomonimagines]

Rewriting: House's girl - part one.

"House, overnight, needs to learn how to be a father"

⚠️ abuse, but not very explicit

The previous night had been hell.

Sean, that pretentious guy your mom met at an art convention, had another meltdown directed at you. All because of a single dirty plate. Just one plate. You were exhausted — you’d spent the entire day at school and had planned to wash it the next day, no excuses. But Sean didn’t care. He hurled the plate at you. Shards flew everywhere, some even got stuck in your hair. Then he punched the wall, screamed some more, and stormed off to bed.

Your mom did nothing.

She never did.

It was insane, to say the least.

She spent a few hours a day acting like a normal person, then would snap and say she couldn’t stand to look at you anymore. That because of you, she’d had to work as a lawyer and give up her talent for art. That you were holding her back from soaring.

She used to be a real mom, once. Before Sean. Two years ago, he started messing with her head. And now, to both of them, you were just a burden. Someone to take their anger out on. Your mom had turned cruel. She let Sean be cruel to you.

And you were tired. You were tired every single day. You spent as much time as possible at school—studying, joining every extracurricular activity you could. Anything to stay away. Anything to make sure your future didn’t end up trapped there.

But the few hours you had to spend at home were becoming unbearable. So, you decided to leave.

That night, at just 15 years old, you packed your things.

You stuffed some clothes into your backpack, along with your tablet for studying, your Kindle, your phone charger, and $50. You left the house at 2:30 in the morning.

That night, you slept on the street.

It was Saturday, and for a moment, you felt relieved you didn’t have to go to school. You had a whole weekend to figure out what to do with your life.

The street was terrifying. Cold. You curled up in a parking lot, hoping no one would bother you. You were ready to scream, kick, make a scene if you had to. But you couldn’t sleep properly. By 7:30 a.m., you were already up, walking to the social services office.

You filled out a form. Minutes later, you were called in. The woman who helped you looked to be in her fifties, with short, dark red-dyed hair. She wore round glasses that were too big for her thin face. Her eyes were tired but firm.

“You don’t look a day over eighteen,” she said, serious.

“Well, I’m not. I’m 15.”

“And what are you doing here?”

“My stepdad got aggressive last night. My mom did nothing, as usual. I decided to leave before it got worse.”

“Did you file a police report?”

“No.”

“What about your dad?”

“Well…”

“Why didn’t you file a report?”

“Because he didn’t hit me”

The woman sighed, leaning her elbows on the desk.

“Look, without a police report and with you being a minor, options are limited. Your dad… is he in jail or something?”

“No.”

“Does he live in the city?”

“Yes.”

“And can he support you?”

“He’s a doctor.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Let me get this straight. Your dad’s a doctor, and you’re here at social services looking for shelter? Do you know what the options are for a minor? Either a shelter or a juvenile detention center if you have a criminal record. Do you have one?”

“No!”

“Then we’ll contact your dad.”

“But he doesn’t like me.”

“Is he abusive?”

“No.”

“Not emotionally, not physically?”

“No, he’s just… hard to explain.”

The woman closed the folder.

“Listen, kid. The shelter isn’t a good option. People do what they can, but the state doesn’t provide enough resources. Go to your dad. You don’t want to end up in a place like that.”

You took a deep breath as she picked up the form, read your dad’s name, and typed something into the system. The report about your running away was there. And within minutes, she was on the phone, relaying everything.

You definitely didn’t want to go to his place. Gregory House was a man built to be alone. Brilliant and cold. People said he had no feelings. You’d seen him only a handful of times in your life, and you were never greeted with a hug. Never with warmth. He fulfilled obligations, sent you money, but never tried to be a father. Now, it seemed like that was about to change.

“He’s on his way to pick you up.”

“He agreed?!” You blinked, surprised. You thought it would be a long, complicated process.

The social worker took your hand and gave you a warm look.

“No matter how much you think he hates you,” she said, “no father likes to see his daughter in a situation like this. Well… almost no father.”

He arrived a few minutes later. He wasn’t alone.

Beside him was a man you’d never seen before. They approached, and it was the stranger who greeted you first.

“Hi, I’m James Wilson, your dad’s friend,” he said, smiling.

Your father stood beside him, leaning on his cane, with a look that said he’d rather be anywhere else. Did he even care?

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you replied. “Hi, Dad.”

House just nodded, without much enthusiasm. He definitely wasn’t thrilled to be pulled out of his routine so early.

“So, your mom finally lost it for good?”

“House!” James scolded him.

He sighed, impatient.

“Where’s your stuff?” he asked, cutting off any attempt by his friend to lecture him.

“Just this backpack. I left in a hurry.”

James gave you a sympathetic look.

“Let me carry that for you,” he murmured, taking the strap of the backpack and guiding you to the car.

When you got in, he glanced at you through the rearview mirror.

“Are you hungry? We can stop to eat.”

“We’ll be late,” House grumbled, annoyed.

“You’re always late, House. And this would be the first time you’d have a good excuse.”

You forced a smile.

“I’m not hungry. I just want to go home.”

You hated being a burden. And at that moment, you knew you were—especially to your dad.

James didn’t push it. He just drove to Baker Street, apartment 221B. You’d never been to his place before and were surprised. The place was… cozy. A huge bookshelf filled with books, a piano, dark upholstered couches, a full kitchen—though you doubted he cooked anything more complicated than grilled cheese.

“There’s a guest room at the end of the hall. It’s yours until we figure this out,” House said finally, still leaning on his cane, with his usual sarcastic expression. “I have to work. I’ll probably be back late.”

“Good luck with work,” you replied, trying to sound light.

James smiled and thanked you. House simply ignored it.

The guest room was good enough.

A large bed, a spacious wooden wardrobe, and a small desk that could double as a study area. It was dusty, probably from lack of use, and the lamp didn’t work.

You sighed in relief. Maybe you’d finally have a little peace.

You tossed your backpack onto the bed, grabbed some old clothes, and headed to the bathroom. You let the hot water run over your body, feeling the tension slowly melt away. You only realized you’d wet your hair when it was too late—and the only shampoo available was a men’s one that smelled like mint and something woody. You used it anyway. You grabbed the rough loofah and scrubbed your skin until it turned red, as if you could scrub away the remnants of last night. As if you could wash it all away.

After getting dressed, you went to the kitchen and drank more water than you had in a long time. How long had it been since you’d had a proper drink? Your body felt starved for it.

Finally, you decided to clean the room. You found a rag and a vacuum cleaner tossed in some corner. You dusted everything, vacuumed the floor, and changed the bedsheets—you found clean linens in your dad’s room and knew he probably wouldn’t be happy you’d taken them. But at that moment, you didn’t care.

By the time you finished, it was already 9 a.m. Your entire body felt heavy. Not just from the physical effort, but from the exhaustion that had built up over the past few months. From the anxiety. From the tension.

You closed the curtains, lay down on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

You woke up to a cane poking your face—not subtle at all.

Your father stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Did you take my sheets?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.

You stared at him for a few seconds, not answering. He cleared his throat, as if he didn’t have the patience to wait.

“I brought dinner. You’d better come out before I have to deal with another headache about you being mistreated.”

You slowly pushed the sheets aside, feeling the weight of your body. Maybe you’d slept too much.

On the table, you found a takeout container from the hospital cafeteria. Pasta with tomato sauce and meat. You felt immediate relief—you hated mac and cheese, but any other kind was welcome. Did he know that? Or was it just a lucky guess?

“Thanks for the food,” you said.

House didn’t respond.

You served yourself and sat down at the table. He did the same, with a burger on one side and a bottle of whiskey on the other. He poured himself a shot.

The silence dragged on. Long minutes. Maybe hours.

“So… how was work?” you asked, trying to lighten the heavy air.

He didn’t even blink.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make small talk. Try to be polite. I’m helping because you’re my daughter. My legal obligation.”

The coldness of his words didn’t hit you as hard as it should have. Maybe because you’d expected something like this. Maybe because, deep down, you knew he wasn’t as bad as he pretended to be.

"And you don’t have to be a jerk all the time," you shot back, crossing your arms. "I know something hurt you in the past and made you build this wall around yourself, but you’re not a sociopath. Or a narcissist… okay, maybe a little narcissistic. But aside from the depression, there’s nothing seriously wrong with you. So, please, just tell me how work was. I care about you."

House rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Oh, great. Not only do I have a daughter, now I have a therapist. I don’t know which is more annoying."

You smirked.

"Any interesting cases?"

"A girl with cancer having hallucinations."

"Is the tumor pressing on her brain or something?"

"No. We don’t know yet."

"You should check for a blood clot."

He didn’t respond, but you saw the analytical glint in his eyes. A glint that said your suggestion wasn’t as absurd as it might have sounded. House knew you were smart—with his genes, it would’ve been hard not to be—but he didn’t expect your intelligence to lean toward medicine.

After dinner, he went to the living room, and you followed.

He sighed audibly, giving you a sarcastic look before turning on the TV to some generic medical drama.

"I thought doctors hated these kinds of shows."

"It’s fun watching them get the diagnoses wrong."

"Got it. What’s this one called?"

"My God, do you always talk this much?"

"Usually worse. But come on, I’m 15 and I barely know you. I have questions."

"Please don’t ask them."

"Aren’t you even a little curious about your own daughter?"

"Not really."

You laughed.

"You’re so boring."

Silence settled as you both watched. At some point, even though you’d slept all day, you ended up dozing off.

When you woke up in the middle of the night, you were covered with a blanket.

And you knew it had been him.

Maybe your dad wasn’t so bad after all.

Part Two:

[emberphoenixisgoingtolive]

something interesting i've noticed about Sammy and Kenji...

they're the two people with canon confirmed parental issues, and they're the two people who are the least willing to let Brooklynn back into their lives.

rant under the cut because i have a Lot to say on the matter.

also trigger warnings for abuse, dysfunctional/toxic families, and kind of sad lore of my own

let's first unpack their parental issues. Kenji has no mother, as far as we know. he doesn't talk about her, and we only see a drawing he did of who we can presume is her when he was five. so either she's dead, or divorced Kenji's father (and if she did i don't blame her honestly). either way she's not in Kenji's life and isn't willing to take him in after daniel's arrest if she is, so she's either a dead mother or a shit one.

and i have a whole post about Kenji's dad in season 5 alone but there's other hints across seasons 1-4 that make us realise daniel is a horrible father (like how he has no pictures of his son in his penthouse and only shots to make him look good, he changed the locks to the penthouse just because Kenji failed algebra (which on an island filled with dinosaurs could've been downright dangerous) and probably more that i can't recall off the top of my head). plus, there's that line in season 2 where Kenji is talking about Esther Stone and says that the "relationship between Ester and her dad is really compelling." and he phrases it to imply their relationship is complicated in some way. so clearly Kenji understands the complexities of a father/child relationship and is emotionally affected by them.

so here's what we have. Kenji's dad visibly makes Kenji unhappy to be around, he's barely in his life, emotionally or physically (neglecting Kenji for probably almost all of his life), he is fiercely manipulative, and he generally sees Kenji as a tool of business, rather than a separate human. even when Kenji is grieving from his girlfriend's apparent death in chaos theory, daniel has the audacity to use this as the opportunity to blackmail Kenji into becoming the ceo of his company in exchange for information. as Kenji says himself, everything is a business transaction to him. he clearly has no care for Kenji's feelings, autonomy, or his general existence as a separate person to him. and to top it all off, the cunt has to go and die right in front of his son.

so from all of this, Kenji's biggest emotional triggers would be the following: being neglected and having his feelings disregarded by someone he loves.

and what does Brooklynn (unintentionally) do? neglect his feelings, spend little time with him, and disregard his feelings. PLEASE don't take this as Brooklynn hate, i love her and i could make a whole separate post about how the direction the camp fam's lives took is all a result of trauma from nublar and mantah corp island, but to put it briefly, Brooklynn's trauma manifests itself as being absorbed in the source of her trauma (dinosaurs but also conspiracies and shady people) to the extent of obsession. but either way, she hurt Kenji in a way she wouldn't have been able to do if Kenji didn't have all that trauma from his father.

and to make matters worse, when Brooklynn died, what does Kenji do? completely shut himself off, stop talking to his own brother (and that is a heartbreak in itself), and only calls the one (1) stable and loving adult in his life once a week. at least he has her, but still. it's highly likely he had a rough time with abandonment issues while he was living with her.

now onto Sammy! up until the dinosaurs got to the mainland, she has a healthy relationship with her family: she loves them and talks about them in a positive light, she has happy memories of being with her family (like when she and her sister competed to see who could collect the most deer antlers), and, most importantly, she risks her whole life to save their ranch. it's clear her family means a lot to her. her dad is thrilled to see her when she and the others get back to the mainland, and he embraces her. he also hugs her when she and Yaz tell their parents they're dating (interesting detail i noticed is that Yaz's mum hugged them both, but Sammy's dad only hugged Sammy, which i take to mean foreshadowing... i'll get to this in a bit) but Sammy's family support their relationship and like Yaz enough to even let her stay on the ranch with Sammy. so up until the dinosaurs get to the mainland, it's all good!

so how did Sammy go from that, to her family cutting her off and not speaking to her? how does Sammy go from two loving and stable parents, to almost crying when she sees Aminata being gentle and kind to her daughter Zayna?

well, here's where i bring my headcanon in.

here is the original post where i basically say that Sammy's family were kind of paranoid of the others after getting Sammy back from the mainland, since they were so shaken by almost losing their daughter to mantah corp, and people like Kenji (who has connections to his dad) or Brooklynn (who somehow manages to get involved in an evil man's mess) they are kind of wary of. however, i think they warmed up to them more, but were always cautious. BUT, when the dinosaurs get to the mainland, and Brooklynn starts investigating and stuff, Darius gets involved with the dpw, Ben gets into conspiracies, etc etc, they start to become more and more sceptical of the camp fam, and they want Sammy to keep her distance so she and her family can stay safe. the fighting continues, until they give Sammy an ultimatum. the camp fam, or the people that raised her. she chooses the camp fam. Brooklynn is killed a few days later.

so in a way, Brooklynn (unintentionally) drove apart all of Sammy's relationships. she is (indirectly and unintentionally) the reason Sammy's estranged from her family, and part of why Yaz and Sammy broke up.

not only that, but Sammy has to deal with the dinosaurs coming back (let's not forget she was traumatised them too) and her family leaving her and Yaz having severe ptsd symptoms. and this is NOT to imply Sammy stayed with Yaz out of obligation or didn't want to care for Yaz during the worst of her ptsd - as a disabled person, relationships can and SHOULD be balanced with both people caring for each other, and a nondisabled person caring for a disabled person in a relationship is just as valid as two nondisabled people.

however, the act of caring for someone during such an emotionally difficult time with no support system is traumatic. i've been there, it's happened to me. LORE TIME!!!! my parents separated for a few years when i was eight, and then my mum got sick with gallstones. so it was just me, my younger sibling, and my mum in a house where my mum was badly sick and very emotionally unstable because of the separation and her fat free diet she had to have, and i had to look after a lot of things. i had no stable friendships, i was distant from my dad, i couldn't rely on my mum, and i had NO support system at that time. i couldn't rely on anyone or ask for help from anyone stable i could trust. and that's messed me up to this day. of course this is very different because Sammy is presumably an adult by the time this happens and i was a child. but the feeling of caring for someone and feeling isolated from everyone else is mutual :')

i imagine Sammy would experience a similar kind of feeling when she is living with Yaz and the dinosaurs come back to the mainland. juggling the weight of being estranged from her family, the dinosaurs coming back to the mainland, Yaz's ptsd getting worse, and dealing with her own issues on top of everything... it's not surprising she wasn't doing well. there's an analogy that says you should put your own oxygen mask on before you can put on another person's. that's because you need to save yourself before you can be responsible for saving other people. (in a way, that was exactly what Yaz was trying to do: look after herself so she was less burdened by her ptsd and she felt like less of a burden.)

so Sammy's biggest emotional triggers would be feeling like no one prioritises her feelings or cares about her actual feelings.

and what did Brooklynn do? not prioritise Sammy's feelings, of even acknowledge them. she went back to the camp fam without even saying sorry for faking her death and causing all that heartbreak, literally only talking to the campers for information. (again, NOT Brooklynn hate. i understand why she did all that. but the heartbreak from Sammy's pov is the same regardless of logic.)

and both of them choosing not to go after Brooklynn actually is better for their characters, especially Sammy. Sammy is such a loving and selfless perso, but she never once got to prioritise herself... until she did. until she decided not to go after Brooklynn. this is the writers' clear way of saying that she's growing, she's changing, and if the others want her back, they will need to fight for her, because Sammy is over one-way relationships.

overall, Sammy and Kenji have been hurt by their parental issues in ways the others of the camp fam haven't, and that's a core driving cause as to why they are less willing to forgive Brooklynn.

EDITING TO ADD SOMETHING I FORGOT: yes, i know Darius technically has parental issues because he lost his dad, but that is a completely different pain and feeling. his dad is dead, but he was never abusive, or toxic, or mean, or cruel, or neglectful to him. Darius was never in a position where he had no one he could rely on (he always had his mum and Brand) and he's always had that stability. Sammy and Kenji don't