#THE WAY HE INTUITIVELY UNDERSTANDS DICKS THOUGHT PROCESS

[frogaroundandfindout]

“What can dick be thinking? He might be a machine—perfection in a mask with unparalleled leadership skills—but this is over the top!”

“Roy wants to be dicks equal but doesn’t have a prayer. Not that that’s a sin. But Harper’s a reactionary, always competing with somebody…Ollie, Dick, even himself…and coming up short. Probably what lead to that trouble with drugs a while back”

“Good pairing. If Harp doesn’t get too caught up on feeling old next to the kid, he might learn something. Another good call. Dick knows someone good has to cover her butt. He assigns me to prysm. Okay, I guess. Maybe I can get her to be aggressive and push her power to the limit. Which leaves Garth with the hot head. Maybe he can get the pink to lower the volume a bit. Dick might have gone solo but he’ll always be the teen titans best leader!

Wally thinking about how good of a leader dick is and the reasons behind his pair ups (Teen Titans #13)

[aftersamu]

kicked out of the restaurant.

humiliated in public, amongst your friends, all because of that tall, messy-haired, nerd who doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut for ten-minutes. always has to provoke, always has to rile you up and pick a fight that he never wins.

now, as a consequence for falling into the web – that is his stupidity – you’re standing out on the street, in the pouring rain with the same man who is responsible.

kuroo’s standing there, drenched, with a stupid smirk plastered on his face as he looks at you with those hazel eyes.

“what are you so happy about?” you scoff, starting to walk down the path – towards the nearest train station – him joining you at your side.

you couldn’t understand what’s got kuroo so smiley, both of you had gotten kicked out of the restaurant and forced to leave the dinner you were having with a group of friends. arms crossed, eyebrows pinched together and eyes slightly narrowed. dealing with the water droplets running down your face and soaking your clothes.

“oh nothing,” he hums, hands shoved in the front pocket of his jeans. glancing at you from the side of his eye, stopping that boy-like grin from spreading across his features.

kuroo quite fondly enjoyed pushing your buttons, although this time it was unintentional. he didn’t mean to cause a scene earlier, or to anger you – it was a natural impulse.

seeing you sat across from him, so comfortable. you weren’t rolling your eyes, nor did you have that unimpressed look you always sported when around him.

must’ve been the first time he’s seen you genuinely smile, eyes crinkling as you laughed at whatever joke or comment a friend had made. of course he’d be in awe.

“you know this is all your fault,” you mutter.

“that’s not very fair now, is it?” kuroo says, “i’m sure it was you who chose to make something out of nothing.”

“oh? i’m sorry, i don’t recall insulting you first!” you retort, “if anything, i was mirroring your energy.”

there is that bubbling feeling inside you again. always arising whenever he’s around, however the most confusing thing about it all is despite how badly your mind just begs to explode, there’s that lingering sense of comfort.

“well you can’t just go blaming everything on me,” he shrugs, “i thought you were the bigger person?” taunting you, pleased upon seeing you roll your eyes and shake your head as you bite the inside of your cheek.

“apparently not, since i always put up with your shit.”

“whoa, all this time you’ve been putting up with me?” kuroo questions, sarcastic, “and here i thought we were friends.”

“please? friends?” you say, “we’re far from being friends.”

“and why’s that?”

“hmm…” humming, dragging out the noise, building suspense to the list of things you have to say. “let’s see,” tapping your chin, “you’re annoying, you never shut up, you’re shit at jokes – which makes it hard for me not to laugh at them.” counting on your fingers as you begin to rant.

“i hate your face, your hair is dumb, your smile is crooked, you’re practically a sleazy con-man – miya, of all people, said so himself.” stopping in your tracks to face the man and tell all of this while staring into his eyes, “you use cheesy pick-up lines and think counting shoulders is flirting.”

“keep going,” kuroo encouraged, liking the stream of insults and comments that naturally flow out your mouth.

“you’re so-so! confusing!” you yell, unable to process the burst of frustration that overcomes you, “one minute you’re acting like a complete dick then a second later you’re feeling remorse, like some intuitive mother fucker?”

kuroo just stares at you, basking in this little conversation. a scratching feeling in the back of his head and a small feeling of warmth in his heart. he actually likes you.

the way you manage to match his energy, always prepared with a comeback. constantly drawing him towards you.

“every time you even look at me, it’s like i fucking loose control!” continuing on your tangent, “i want to punch your teeth sometimes and put you in a bodybag!” panting, tired, from all the yelling you’ve done – letting the sound of rain falling surround the two of you.

then, a smile appears on kuroo’s face. “you like me,” he teases, “you can’t stand to be around me because i’m just too resistible.”

“are you kidding!” you retort, “where did you get that from?!” starting to wave your arms around in the air, “no! i don’t want to like – i don’t like – you! i just want to tie you up, and keep you in a cage!”

“you like me, admit it!” kuroo says, wanting to hear something from you before he puts himself out on the line. “tell me you love me!”

“i don’t love you!” you argue, “i don’t even like you! i don’t like how whenever i look at you, you’re already looking at me. or how you always stand by me on the train ride home, or those stupid notes you pass to me during meetings!”

“oh come on, you laugh at them.” he states, recalling the number of memories of you biting back those smiles at his drawings or comments written on the small piece of paper.

“they’re ridiculous! especially when you randomly order pizza under my name, like, what the fuck dude?”

“well i don’t like how your laugh can be heard from miles away,” kuroo tells, choosing to bite back. “and it’s annoying whenever your rings drop on the table ‘cause you never stop fidgeting, hey! and when you get excited, you talk really fast – no one can understand you!”

“i don’t do that!”

“uh, yes you do! you’re just not as observant.”

“god! you’re so annoying!” you yell, “i wish there was a way to shut you the fuck up-!”

cut off, being pulled to kuroo’s chest, hands placed on either side of your face as his lips collide with yours. he feels you relax into the kiss, your hands reaching up to his wet hair – entwining themselves in it – pulling him closer to you.

this all felt so weird, so strange.

neither of you ever expected to be in this situation, hearts racing, heat rushing to your cheeks. the intoxicating feeling that succumbs you, so unforgettable and unfamiliar. ignited by a fire filled with passion, and frustration.

the feeling of his lips against yours, so soft yet rough, an arm that slings around your waist holding you close and tight.

unsure of all the feelings and rush of emotions that scatter your mind, whereas kuroo couldn’t be more content with life since nothing beats this feeling.

pushing aside everything to meet a middle ground with the person you swore you loved to torture, a middle ground to bring the two of you together.

[dreamii-yume]

Is giving Malleus birthday crumbs requests okay? If not please ignore. And if yes : how about a scenario where we give Malleus a gift for his birthday and also a hug since he is touch starved. Malleus could be a bit greedy and want more... You can make it as spicy as you want👀.

Love your works! Keep it up!!❤️❤️

“Um...Malleus, isn’t it about time...?” You called out, lips twitching to the side. However, the only response you got from the horned fellow was a tighter embarace down your waistline. You hitched a breath and laughed nervously, despite feeling your soul leaving at that moment. “O-Ow...! Okay, okay, I’m guessing that’s a no then? Haha...”

You breathe out, your hands fist Malleus’ sleeves tight, ultimately guilty of wrinkling his suit. You felt his hands wrapped around you more, pulling you closer as he buried his face right on the crook of your neck. He doesn’t look like he was going to let go anytime soon, you have no choice but to close your eyes instead. You felt like an idiot for asking.

Well...It’s not about when he’ll let go though, it’s about how you can even get out in the first place. It’s not exactly uncomfortable, but having yourself sat on his lap in a reverse position, facing him with his cock buried deep inside you like this...It wasn’t how you planned to spend your night with him but whatever, you guessed

You shifted in your position, which was a huge risk considering every movement would just send an electric shock throughout your body. You’ve been like this ever since Malleus made this silly little request of his...Well, “silly” is what you initially thought about it, thinking that he might’ve been joking but now, it’s become an understatement. It was very rare for him to make a request of you, and given that it was indeed his birthday, you were just too weak to refuse such a...lewd request.

So, suffice to say, here you were, with his cock— one of his cock to be exact, poking at the entrance of your womb. Malleus actually wanted two of them in there, but you just don’t think you have enough experience to do that, you’ll probably die before it go all in if you’re being honest here. He gave you a pout at first, but he eventually settled on one, his other length had to make do with rubbing against your clit for now. You actually thanked him for that, by the way, but it doesn’t make your situation any less strange at this point.

You don’t know how long you’ve been like this or when Malleus would finally stop using you as a cockwarmer and just fuck you normally. God, you sound like an utter whore with that sentence, maybe it was because of the pressure and frustrations seeping out of you that made you this willing to do just about anything right now? You can��t help it, your voice was too shaky with how stuffed your pussy felt, you were leaking and you felt sensitive all over. You do know that it hasn’t been too long at least, but goddamn, had it felt like hours had already passed by, you were practically dying of second-hand embarrassment.

You glanced at Malleus, attempting to communicate with him but any attempt of doing so, such as tapping him on the shoulder was solely ignored. Cheeky bastard...For someone who doesn’t understand how birthdays work, he was definitely getting ahead of himself by taking advantage of his “Birthday Boy” card. Still, you can’t exactly blame him for it, in fact, you even went as far as to wrap your arms around him. The least you can do is enjoy the moment, this was a rather soft side of him anyways.

“Oh my~ How shameless! You two lovebirds certainly know how to spend a steamy birthday night together~!” You flinched as soon as you heard that familiar eccentric voice. You turned your head around, face burning at the thought of someone had actually caught you both like this. Malleus, however, just lifted his head up to see his supervisor, Lilia, looking a like a teenage girl at the sight. “Now, this is what I’m talking about when it comes to youth! Ah, how nice~”

“L-Lilia-senpai, i-it’s not what you think, I...!” You immediately tried to justify yourself, not wanting the older fae to look at you as if you just flunged yourself towards his son shamelessly. “M-Malleus just...!”

However, Lilia just playfully winked at you. “Oh, there’s no need for explanation, Darling~! Why do you look so embarrassed about it~?” He squealed, his teasing tone of voice does not make the situation any better. “Malleus was the one who thought about it, right? I know because he’s been talking about it nonstop for days now, you know!”

“H-He was...!?” You exclaimed, looking at Malleus who looked away with another one of his pout. Somehow, you felt his dick twitched inside of you, it almost made you moan out loud.

“I know right~!? That’s why, it’s fine. Truth to be told, I’m actually thankful.” Lilia said with a grateful smile, crossing his arms. This would’ve been a touching moment if it weren’t for your current position, somehow the awkwardness just seeps through. But still, you would be lying if you say that it didn’t warm your heart. “Thank you for accepting Malleus’ request, (Y/N). He may not express it much, but he’s incredibly happy right now. Of course, I feel just as glad.”

“...Also, forgive him if he gets a little too rough that you might not be able to walk for days, okay~?” Lilia added in with a cheerful smile, making you choke in your own breath. That definitely sounded more like a warning, rather than a heart-felt speech! “My poor Malleus is just quite the touch-starved individual, you see~”

“A~and that’s my cue to leave! I got my lines out pretty good right there if I could say so myself~” Lines!?

“W-Wait, Lilia-senpai, what do you mean-“ Your attempt of interrogating your senior a bit further ended with a cut as your very own Tsunotarou had finally moved after a long time. You gasped at the way his cock managed to slip in even further, triggering your pleasure buttons. He laid you down on the table nearby, careful not to let himself disconnect from your sex. You paled at how he hovered above you, his hands slammed down on each side of your head. Your intuition kicked in and you felt as if it’s not going to be a good one. “M-Malleus...?”

“Oh, look how eager he is~! I’m sure no one but you can calm him down now, (Y/N)! Seriously, you’re so perfect for each other!” You turned your head upwards to see Lilia’s head just popping out of the doorway, his hands ready to close the door for the two of you. “Bye-bye~! I’ll leave you two in peace now~ Make those sweet, sweet love~!”

“L-Li—!” With his tongue sticking out, Lilia waved before slamming the door shut for the two of you. Your eye twitched. “What the fu—!”

“I believe you can do it now.” You trailed off from calling out for Lilia as you heard Malleus spoke and looked down at him.

“Eh?”

With that, you froze a you widened your eyes, instantly paling at the sight of him holding his other stiff cock near your stuffed cunt. Malleus only looked back at you with such a seductive expression that you would’ve found attractive given in any other situation. He licked his lips in the process, staring at your sprawled out form. He couldn’t possibly mean—!? “I’ve been inside you for a while now, there must be more space for another one, right?” Then, he smiled, a smile that looked innocent at first glance but looking clearly, it closely resembles Lilia’s. It was not a good thing. But then, it was also only at this moment that realization striked you...

“I’d have to thank you for this delicacy, (Y/N). I’ll be indulging myself with you from now on~”

...That yup, this was definitely planned.

Lilia’s one of those parents, after all.

[palmett-hoes]

what's your take on the foxes mbti?

oh buddy ur never gonna believe this but i wrote a foxes MBTI post YEARS ago

im also not into mbti anymore and haven't been for many years so that post is probably still more accurate and in-depth than what i could give you now. i’m just gonna copy the whole thing but i read it over and it still totally vibes w how i understand the characters, like way more than i was expecting it to. i only made one edit (it’s marked) and it was to add a detail not change anything

i hope you’re really really into mbti otherwise this’ll probably be gobbeldegook

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i used to be obessively into mbti so here’s an analysis based on cognitive functions mostly.

SKIP IF YOU WANT. for anyone with no idea how it works, here’s a quick rundown: cognitive functions are about the way people think, process, and prioritize information, not necessarily how they act, though people who think the same way often act the same. the 8 letters that make up a type represent how people process and prioritize internal and external stimuli. every letter actually has an ‘internal’ and 'external’ form so there’s Thinking (internal(ti) and external(te)), Feeling (internal(fi) and external(fe)), Sensing (internal(si) and external(se)), and iNtuition(internal(ni) and external(ne)) t’s always go with a corresponding and opposite f (like ti and fe always go together), same with s’s and n’s (ex: si and ne always go together). a set of  t, f, s, and n in a specific order makes an mbti type.

neil: intp (ti ne si fe)

neil has incredible analytical ability although it’s very programmed for survival but he’s also a fast thinker and very quick to adapt to new environments. he also approaches things from original angles that other people dont consider, all that sounds like high ti/ne. the lower functions fit well too. in times of stress, he returns to old habits and falls back on what’s familiar, that’s classic low si. his emotions are also very exterior. he’s bad with other people from lack of exposure, but he’s committed to harmony between those close to him and has an impeccable ability to read the emotional states of others while being completely oblivious of his own, and his sense of self is tied to exterior things like exy, friends, keys, and legal documents (lol) that’s fe

andrew: intj (ni te fi se)

ni is really hard to describe but it has to do with being able to draw conclusions from scattered input, which fits with andrew’s uncanny ability to spot lies and obsession with finding out the truth, especially with high te, which is about spatial order and logic, think of how prioritized he is with the physical order of things: who sits where, who wears what, etc. a lot of people want to make andrew infj i bet as like a “subversive reading” but he’s definitely not. i used to be really close to an infj and they have hyper-empathy, as in she would describe not just caring about other people and being able to read their emotional states but literally feeling the things the people around her felt. this is a common result of the ni/fe combo, and the reason why andrew is definitely not infj. tertiary fi fits very well instead because andrew is deeply attuned to his own inner emotional state. he’s self-confident and doesn’t care about other people’s perception of him, but he’s also very concerned with his own feelings and understanding them, even if they’re repressed. he’s also very aware of his physical surroundings, which plays into his deductive ability, although it’s not his focus. that’s low se

kevin: estj (te si ne fi)

kevin is a classic estj. he’s controlling, demanding, and driven. he tries to control the actions of those around him and gets very distressed when things dont run smoothly, as well as having strong feelings about improving efficiency. high te people make great managers. kevin’s whole story arc is about breaking old habits, which is a very si problem. it has to do with trusting and craving memory and familiarity, and explains kevins need for endless repetition. he’s innovative, though, coming up with new strategies and drills (ne), it’s just based on what’s already familiar, and you can see him spiral into creating all possible worst-case scenarios when he’s stressed (low ne stress reaction, they like to be prepared). finally, he’s a dick, but he cares about other people and wants to improve their lives, as well as being very reliant on other people’s perceptions of him to define his own self-image (low fe)

dan: esfj (fe si ne ti)

dan’s top priority, over everything else, is her team. she wants her team to improve, she wants her team to win, she wants her team to work together. it’s all about the collective. we also see that she’s very open with others and makes a lot of effort to both make new ties and maintain old ones, that’s high fe. she’s sentimental and attached to the past too (si)  esp the photo wall, but we also see her very unwilling to let go of the past ie the monsters but eventually willing to change and grow to mend team cohesion (ne). we also see the fight in underlying logic (low ti) with her: she knows the team needs the monsters to cooperate but she cant figure out how to do it

matt: enfj (fe ni se ti)

so enfj’s experience infj hyper-empathy too, but to a slightly lesser extent (primary fe is more group cohesion, secondary fe is more understanding others), and through this we see matt’s easy-going open friendliness and ability to befriend even prickly little neil, because he has an extremely good sense of what other people are feeling and need, it also explains why he doesn’t hold a grudge against the cousins in the same way dan does, because he understands where they were coming from. se is associated with a general boisterousness for life, as it’s about experiencing the world around you, which explains matt’s happy-go-lucky disposition and puppydog behavior. the ti aspects mostly go into supporting fe/ni empathic senses

allison: entj (te ni se fi)

i mean, allison’s controlling, both in that she orders other people around and in that her physical being and space are very planned and organized (her clothes, her hair, her makeup, etc) but at the same time there isn’t much sentimentality to her, like how she doesn’t care when her car was destroyed. she easily replaces things because she cares about the object’s purpose, not its history and that all smacks of high te/ni. and i mean, the se definitely contributes to her love of designer things and killer looks, because she cares about the world immediately around her, and why live if not in luxury? and fi? is there any character more aggressively self-confident than allison reynolds?? going against her parents’ wishes for her takes a really strong, independent sense of self, but we also see the problems that can come from not worrying about other people, in how she starts fights and can be abrasive and catty

renee: infp (fi ne si te)

okay this one was really hard tbh. a list of other considerations: isfp, istp, and infj. it’s very easy to read renee as high fe because she’s kind, but i think it’s a mischaracteration of why she’s kind. it’s not because it comes naturally to her, it’s because it’s a conscious choice that makes her feel better about herself. high fi people often read as fe because they’re so comfortable with themselves and in tune with their own needs that they can then go and provide for others. i associate her religion with ne, because contemplation and acceptance of the divine later in life is a very metaphysical undertaking that undoubtedly requires a lot of abstract thought. renee’s storyline also revolves a lot around using things from her past and putting a conscious effort into leaving things from her past behind (how she still uses the skills she learned from her past in new ways ie sparring with andrew and protecting the upperclassmen v/s how she held on to her knives even when she knew it was detrimental to her moving on) this sounds like si. her protective instincts also feed into the te need for order, but it’s a looser leash than say andrew, as it’s lower on her function stack but still present

nicky: esfp (se fi te ni)

godd nicky is like a prototypical esfp. i mean nicholas “sex, drugs, and parties” hemmick cant be anything but se dominant. nicky is all about living it up and living in the moment. like he’s sporadic and ive seen it lead people to think he could be enfp but he doesn’t think enough about the meaning of things to be ne dominant (like how he makes somewhat predatory jokes and such, he’s all about the here-and-now while ne is about the past and future simultaneously). also he of all characters has incredibly prominent fi, as his whole character is about living unashamedly as himself as a gay man and the immense self-awareness and inner strength it takes not only to come out to unaccepting parents but also to leave and start a new life when they rejected him. however, fi is also indicative of his communication problems with his family, as he’s unable to tell that the cousins are fundamentally different from him in their needs and boundaries, leading him to pushing them, making them uncomfortable, and being unable to help them, because he’s unable to understand them. the rest are much more hidden, but a party boy shopaholic like nicky would probably need some amount of te order in like an organized chaos fashion (and he’s often headcanoned as liking to throw parties) and you do see him become somewhat pushy, even controlling in those scenarios. ni is the hardest but could maybe be seen in how he’s attuned to the cousins reactions for all that he cant predict them/doesn’t do anything on his own part to prevent them (the way he handles andrew is like if someone poked a rattlesnake knowing damn well what it would do and then freaked out when he got bit)

aaron: istj (si te fi ne)

im a little iffy on this one and worry it might be an analysis based on his trauma instead of complimentary to it, but aaron’s arc is about breaking out of his habit of holding on to the past. he refuses to work towards moving on from his mother’s death, refuses to listen to things that contradict his preconceived notions, and refuses to make changes in his life that could improve it. that’s unhealthy si. he’s really a very unhealthy istj, and most of his traits manifest through his unhappiness with his life. take his te. that would imply that he needs control over his surroundings, but aaron is incredibly bitter and unhappy BECAUSE he doesn’t have control of his surroundings. he doesn’t get to make his own choices, he doesn’t get to control his space, and he hates it. his relationship with katelyn is also indicative of being an istj. it’s stable, not a passionate fling, but aaron is mocked for wanting that white picket fence, married with kids in the suburbs kind of life, and his relationship, which is his primary source of happiness, is built on stability, which is a very si thing to do. in terms of fi, it is aaron that ultimately forces change between himself and andrew. he may have been pushed but he ultimately came down to him knowing what made him happy and what made him miserable and acting on that. also, he’s an ornery asshole who clearly doesn’t care what other people think of him. fi. i dont really have anything to say in terms of ne, probably because he’s so unhealthy but also because he’s not too explored. heyy istj’s make great doctors

wymack: isfj (si fe ti ne)

okay this one was genuinely the hardest to decide on but ultimately i came to the conclusion that wymack, much like renee, is such a developed person that he loses many defining traits of the functions, and can be read in many different ways. so: wymack’s primary goal is the safety and betterment of other people (ie his team). he wants to help people overcome their pasts, which is a very atypical approach to si, but is si nonetheless. on a personal level, too, he’s never able to move on from people, and specifically never moved on from kayleigh,  continuing their shared dream of an exy team for abused kids long after her death. as ive said before, fe in a secondary position is about deep understanding of other people, and wymack’s ability to understand what other people are struggling through is legendary. the ti mostly serves as support to the fe, serving as the analytical backup in allowing him to understand others. as for ne: he is most definitely an innovator with unusual ideas, or the foxes wouldn’t exist

riko: estp (se ti fe ni)

riko is basically what happens when an estp goes bad down to the core. he’s obsessed with personal glory and immediate self-fulfillment (se) he has no impulse control or fear of consequences. interestingly, high se is often associated with athleticism, because high se people are intensly focused on their surroundings (exy). his ti is also super unhealthy as he gets obsessed with ideas that dont really work with objective reality, like his obsession with ownership and power dynamics despite them not actually being efficient, even backwards. the tertiary fe he uses to manipulate. he doesn’t empathize with others, but he can tell their emotional state and what’s important to them, and uses it to coerce them and destroy their sense of self, like how he knew he could get neil to the nest by threatening andrew. EDIT: /additionally, fe people especially in the lower half of the function stack tend to derive their sense of self from the perceptions of others around them, which riko very much shows in how he needs to be acknowledged as the best and won’t allow any competition for his title, as well as his desperation for acknowledgement from his family/. finally, that ni allowed him to keep multiple plans in place focused on one ultimate goal: getting kevin back. the sheer amount of schemes he sets up in order to fool and push people the way he wants is honestly kinda impressive, but he’s a toxic shithead and im glad he’s rotting. definitely not representative of all estp’s

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this is honestly SO funny to read back a few years later bc HOOOOO boy was i way too into this stuff. and this was written a couple years after my Peak MBTI Obsession, which was honestly scary

[arcticdementor]

Woke anti-racism certainly appears to have taken on the trappings of religion. White people have been seen washing the feet of black people and asking for forgiveness, a ritual firmly in line with the Christian tradition. And terms like ‘white guilt’ and ‘white privilege’ are treated much as Original Sin used to be – things for which humanity must forever atone.

One person who has long been exploring the religious fervour of today’s increasingly moralistic politics is the essayist and author Joseph Bottum. Indeed, his 2014 book, An Anxious Age: The Post-Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of America, seems almost prophetic. There he argued that the demise of traditional Protestantism in the US has led liberals to transfer their religious beliefs, habits and passions into the political realm, moralising it in the process. Our age of ‘post-Protestantism’, he concludes, has eroded the boundary between the religious and the political, infusing politics with a religious mindset and discourse.

spiked’s US correspondent, Sean Collins, caught up with Bottum, at his home in the Black Hills of South Dakota, to find out what he makes of the contemporary political moment, woke anti-racism and the phenomenon of cancel culture.

Sean Collins: As you note in An Anxious Age, the collapse of Mainline Protestantism (that is, the older, non-evangelical Protestant denominations) in the US is striking. In 1965, more than 50 per cent of Americans belonged to Protestant congregations. Now it is less than 10 per cent. Why, in your view, is this collapse so significant for broader American society and politics?

Joseph Bottum: In Democracy in America, Alexis de Tocqueville identified the central current of America as a current of morals and manners. However much rival sects feuded against one another, there was this central current. And it is the Mainline Protestant churches which provided America with those morals and manners. (‘Mainline’ is a term that was created later, but we can apply it retrospectively.)

The Mainline churches helped define American culture in several ways. First of all, the churches were mostly apolitical, which has had a profound effect on American culture. For instance, there’s never been a great American political novel. The average French streetwalker in a novel by Zola knows more about politics than the heroes of the greatest American novels. What is it to be an American? At the highest artistic level, it is to be concerned about the cosmos and the self. Politics is incidental to Moby Dick, The Scarlet Letter and Huckleberry Finn. And that’s because Mainline Protestantism rendered politics secondary to what it deems is most important — namely, salvation and the self.

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Collins: Right, so we now live in, as you put it, a post-Protestant US. But, if I understand your thesis correctly, you argue that the beliefs, mindsets and manners that animated earlier Protestantism have not been abandoned, but instead have been projected on to the political realm. A key transition you cite is the Social Gospel movement, which becomes more prominent during the 20th century. Then closer to our time Christianity gets stripped out altogether, and you are just left with social activism. Sin remains a preoccupation, but it has been redefined as a social sin, like bigotry and racism. Have I got that right?

Bottum: Yes. There’s an extraordinary point here. Walter Rauschenbusch [an American theologian and a key figure in the Social Gospel movement of the late 19th and early 20th centuries] lists six species of social sin. If you go through the list, they are exactly what radicals are objecting to now: bigotry, the ignorance of the uneducated, power, corruption, militarism and oppression. It lines up so perfectly with today’s agitation.

What we’re seeing now is an amplification of what I wrote about five years ago: an intense spiritual hunger that has no outlet. There’s no way to see people kneeling, or singing ‘Hands up, don’t shoot’, or swaying while they hold up candles, and avoid acknowledging that it’s driven by a spiritual desire. I perceived this when I wrote about Occupy Wall Street, and it’s become even more like this. It is an intense spiritual hunger that is manifesting itself more violently. Because to the post-Protestants, the world is an outrage and we are all sinners.

…

Similarly, there is ostracising and shunning. Cancel culture is just the latest and most virulent form of the religious notion of shunning, in which people are chased into further appreciation of their guiltiness. Two years ago, the Nation published a poem about an older panhandler giving advice to a younger one, about how to get people to give you money. The Twittermob went after that poem, on the grounds that the poet was a white man from Minnesota. And the magazine apologised, and the poet apologised for writing the poem. That’s what the shunning is looking for. If you profane, if you’re shunned outside the Temple, the only way back is to become fanatic, to convince people that you understand how guilty you are. And even then I’m not sure there’s any way back.

At the very least, one of the effects of the shunning is to frighten everyone into silence. Its purpose is to get people fired, to put people beyond the pale, to get them out of our sight. This is for a couple reasons. First, it is to ensure we are not infected by this sinfulness. And second, it is a public declaration of our power. It says, look how powerful we are, that we can do this to people.

…

We live in just the strangest times. But understanding the historical roots of these radicals as post-Protestant, and understanding the spiritual hunger which has no outlet for them, helps us to explain it. This is what happens when you have a Mainline outlook that is broken loose from all of its prior constraints. These ideas used to be corralled in the churches. If you let an idea like Original Sin – that’s a dangerous and powerful idea – loose from its corral, it goes to a place where it can exist, which is politics. One of the great dangers is that religious ideas are in politics. The line that I use is that, if you believe that your ordinary political opponents are not merely mistaken, but are evil, you have ceased to do politics and begun to do religion.

…

Suppose you analyse this class in terms of its members’ answer to the question, ‘How do you know that you are saved?’. In the past, people would say ‘because I believe in Christ’ and the rest of it. But the modern version of this question is, ‘How do you know you are a good person? And how can you have assurance of your goodness?’. Which is Max Weber’s question in The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism – and Weber says this anxiety about salvation actually has economic and political consequences. Let’s apply that Weberian analysis and ask what are the consequences of being worried about your salvation, phrased in today’s terms of being worried about being a good person. If it’s all about social ills, then you know you are a good person if you are opposed to those social ills, if you are anti-racist, even if you don’t do anything. You are convinced of your own salvation. You are one of the Elect if you adopt this stance of being opposed to the great sins.

Now, younger people are not going to put up with the hypocrisy of knowing you are a good person but not actually doing anything. And they are starting to be violent. Members of the Elect are much more economically and socially insecure than the elite, but they have the same education, they’ve got the same social markers. In some ways, we are seeing an intra-class warfare between the Elect and the elite.

…

Collins: Yes, today’s leaders in cultural institutions and universities seem to lack backbone. They have espoused this politically correct rhetoric for years, but it’s like they didn’t truly believe it or act on it, and now the younger generation are calling them on it.

Bottum: Right, the younger generation are not going to put up with the hypocrisy. That’s part of it. The second part is, when they see the old power figures tremble, they start thinking, why aren’t we in the positions of power? Then class elements, elitism, start to creep back in. But the original impulse came from seeing leaders like college presidents being hypocrites. They were just mouthing what they thought was just the latest line of the old liberal consensus. What they didn’t fully intuit is that the old liberal consensus was completely gone, and the new line had become something very radical. If today you were to put forward any of the shibboleths of high liberalism of the 1950s, you would be denounced as a terrible conservative.

…

Collins: I’ve also noticed a tendency to avoid detailed analysis of economic and social conditions, or concrete policy reforms. Instead, the issue of race after George Floyd is a simple moral denunciation, or a vague reference to ‘systemic racism’. You hear ‘Why do I have to keep explaining this?’, ‘I’m so exhausted’, and so on, as if the issue was beyond debate.

Bottum: Right. But also it’s defining the Church. It’s a way of saying you either have this feeling or you don’t. And if you don’t, you’re evil, and if you do, you’re good. Christian theology, and Christian spiritual practice, has dealt with this for millennia. This is the distinction Calvin would make between justification and sanctification. The idea here is that we no longer need to argue it, because any argument of it is engaging with people beyond the pale. They are outside the Church, they are the profane. They are just wrong. What are they wrong about? They are wrong in the central feeling of moral goodness. This is the attempt to get others to shut up.

We are living in the age of the ad hominem. The fundamental way to answer a claim is to say something about the person who said it. Whether it’s a tu quoque, or an abusive ad hominem, or poisoning the well – the ad hominem is a whole genus of different species of fallacy. How do we know others are wrong? They are wrong because some bad people have said it too. Bari Weiss [the former New York Times op-ed editor] must be wrong [about the illiberal environment at the Times], because Ted Cruz forwarded her tweet. That’s a wonderful ad hominem – guilt by association. It’s not about the content of what is said, it’s about the people who said it.

Why should Trader Joe’s give in, and say how stupid and guilty it was for not realising the error of its ways? Because otherwise its managers and staff are not good people. It doesn’t matter if there is any objective truth to it. The only thing that matters is where you stand. Are you one of us, or are you one of them?

If I can show that you are one of them, then your only response is to apologise abjectly, even though you didn’t know. You didn’t know that touching your middle finger to your thumb is making a white power symbol. It doesn’t matter whether you knew that. A Hispanic driver for a power company in California got fired because his hand was hanging out the window, with his finger touching his thumb. A women photographed it and declared it was the white power symbol, and the power company fired him. It’s really astonishing.

…

It’s not enough to be one of the good guys, to be on the right side. You have to be bulletproof against any charge. You have to be constantly abject. You have to agree with your condemners, or you’re evil. The [French philosopher] Merleau-Ponty wrote about this in terms of the Moscow showtrials – about the psychological process by which people can come to confess their own guilt about something that, at some level, they know they are not guilty of. So the psychological aspect is interesting. But this mode of permanent abject contrition is best understood in its religious modes. This is what you get when the Church of Christ becomes the Church without Christ, and these old Protestant concerns enter the public square, enter politics, divorced from and freed from their old constraints. To paraphrase GK Chesterton, the world is full of Christian ideas gone mad.

Collins: Why does the Elect have to go as far as to ‘cancel’? You could imagine a movement promulgating certain moral ideas in society, and hoping to win converts. Such a movement wouldn’t necessarily feel the need to purge others, who didn’t agree with them, from their workplaces and colleges. What drives the Elect to go to those lengths?

Bottum: Look, you wouldn’t want a Satan worshipper turning up at your Church on a Sunday. You would drive them out. But of course these people don’t live in churches any more. This is what happens when those old ideas break loose and become modes of behaviour in politics. They don’t want these people in their church, but their church is politics. Their congregation is Twitter. They want these people not to exist, they want them banished. There are the power reasons for this: look at how powerful I am; I am a 17-year-old kid, and I had a major US corporation kow-towing to me. But there’s also this kind of religious sense that we can’t let sinners into the church. That’s what shunning was for, to get people to confess their sins, to realise their sinfulness. That’s what we’re doing now – it’s just that the church, the locus of faith, is no longer your congregation on Sunday. It’s public life.

This demand that politics somehow solve everything is an apocalyptic, religious sense of politics. For hundreds of years American jurisprudence has worried about the impact of religion on politics. What’s really extraordinary is that it is finally happening – politics is becoming religionised – but it’s being done in the name of anti-religion.

[heartsofminds]

Starry Hearts

Description: The one where Shawn’s a dad and crying at 3 AM. 

He's not sure if it's his undiagnosed insomnia that keeps him awake, or the fact that he's been a musician for far too long.

Truth is that flying from country to country where different time zones plague the area gets tiring, and hotel room are always so white.

The sun shines through the blinds and it makes everything so blinding. Most of the time, he can't seem to sleep very well because slivers of light peek their way through the closed curtains. More than often, it keeps him wide awake.

But he’s never a dick; no matter how cranky he feels and he often has to premeditate his actions and choose his words wisely.

If anyone was asked to sum up Shawn Mendes, unkind remarks and diva like actions were never brought up. Besides, he's never really liked pesky paparazzi and nosy reporters up his ass they way that they wanted to be.

But Shawn isn't in a hotel room and he isn't not tired, but he can't sleep. And he thinks maybe it's the fact he's an undiagnosed insomniac or quite possibly the idea that his little girl, his sweet little Gabriella, was down the hall.

Shawn never wants to close his eyes for too long when he’s home because he never wants to miss it. He never wants to miss his baby's first words or her first tooth or even her first little cold that he knows will be hell, but he'll never mind it.

He'll do anything for her. He’ll move heaven and hell into the same realm, run through fire, and even end his career if it meant he could spend time with her.

Although little Gabriella Elise Mendes was here for only 7 months, she had her daddy wrapped around her finger. He can't see himself not having her around and it's crazy, he thinks, how you could love someone who isn't even aware of it.

She's ruined his social life and Shawn doesn't mind in the slightest. He hasn't had more than half a beer in the seven months her eyes had been open and he never comes home later than 7:00 so he's sure he can sing her to sleep and yeah, it's boring, and yeah it's tiring, but Shawn’s never required lots of sleep or entertainment so he's satisfied.

Niall's invited him over for drinks and Brian has offered to pay for all the shots he can down, but Shawn never takes the offers. He feels guilty making his friends pay for him; especially if he knows he’ll end up going home early anyway.

Most of the time he puts on a Blues’ Clues episode (it was his favorite when he was tiny) and sits on the couch in his family room with his little girl on his knee. She often babbles away and sometimes Shawn thinks he puts on the show for himself rather than Gabriella, who can't quite comprehend what's happening yet.

A lot of the time he winds up going to bed shortly after she does, but he never sleeps. It's always been hard for him to get a good night's rest and apparently he's passed that trait of himself down to his little love.

Gabriella doesn't cry a lot and unknowingly to her father, she's awake for most of the night as well. His mother swears he and his daughter are alike in so many ways that it's scary.

She came out with starry eyes and singer's lungs as well as a knack for attention like her father. She was a spoiled princess from the minute she left the hospital, and that hasn't changed at all.

So his damn insomnia and father's intuition drives him up the wall until he gets out of bed and tries to walk as quietly as he can around his house. He swears he hates himself for getting all hardwood floors because they're insanely cold during the fall and winter months. He can’t even bother to wrap his thoughts around the fact that they’re stupidly dangerous.

Maybe he's just clumsy, but Shawn’s almost fallen down his own damn stairs and broken his neck at least ten times in the past two months, so he can only imagine the nightmare it'll be when little Gabriella starts to walk.

He finds himself on his couch with the lights off and the stiff suede that encases his body makes him itch. He wonders who the hell let him buy that uncomfortable couch, but then he realizes he used to do everything for style and now at twenty nine, he quite frankly, doesn't give a fuck anymore.

For the first time in years he went out in some sweats and Adidas and God, did he think it felt good.

Shawn hears soft babbles a short distance from where he is seated and as he gets up, he makes a mental note to put new furniture on his ever growing shopping list. His bare feet make a soft slapping noise against the hard floors and he peeks his head into his little girl's room.

The glow in the dark stars that decorate her ceiling were Teddy’s idea and the lavender walls were voted on by a three to one ratio with Shawn being the latter who wanted pink for his baby girl.

"It's my fucking house," he had said months prior to her arrival, but no one seemed to care.

"Well don't ask us to help decorate if you don't want suggestions, dumb fuck,” either Brian or Geoff had said, but he doesn't quite remember.

Everything had to be perfect for his little Gabriella or Ella, as close friends and family knew her as.

Her daddy opens the door and walks in quietly not to disturb her even though she was wide awake. She's starting to stand up by herself now, and Shawn is briefly shocked when he looks down at the white crib to see her tilting her head and looking at him with wide eyes.

He holds his arms out and she reaches up. His body is exhausted and he feels his muscles and bones aching but his mind is pacing ten thousand miles a second. He doesn't really know where to take her because he doesn't want to be too noisy in case she's grumpy and he just wants the calm of the night to wash over him.

He figures he spends a God awful amount of time in his living room because that's the only place he can think of where there would be an equal balance of quiet and awakeness. Ella sits on her daddy's lap and she coos at him as if she is talking.

Shawn just eats it up.

Sure, he's a godfather to three other children but something about his own child makes the blood in his body warm again. He's been a cold, calloused pop star for so long that he's forgotten what it's like to love someone with your whole heart.

Sure, he loves a lot of people and yeah, he loves a lot of things, but they'll never compare to his child.

He giggles as she grasps his hand and grabs at his middle finger. Her bright eyes investigate the tattoos that litter her father's hand. Shawn thinks her favorite, by far, is the thin figure eight inside his finger that he had gotten during a drunken brainstorm as a dumb nineteen year old. She loves tracing it with her little fingers and to him, it’s in a horrible spot and looks pretty stupid now, but as long as it makes Ella happy, it can stay.

She pushes up on her father’s torso and tilts her head to the side to get a better look at the defined muscle. Ella leans forward so her little eyes can see, but leans too far to where her tongue makes contact with the skin of of her dad’s abdomen.

She laughs like it was the funniest thing on Earth and she does it again and again, making Shawn laugh out loud in the process.

"You're so silly, Angel. You're my little angel baby, huh?" he asks more to himself than to her.

He enjoys these moments because she can’t talk back but looks at him with eyes that say she understands. He knows that soon she’ll be two and talking back. He’s not ready for her to turn five and question every word that leaves his mouth and he’s especially unprepared for her to turn fifteen, and think everything he says is bullshit.  

He's desperate to be a good dad, but there's something so scary about a child being your own. He's watched Zubin’s kids and Teddy’s daughter loads of times before and even stayed overnight with them for a weeks once or twice.

When his god daughter, Laïa, started having an allergic reaction to peanuts at Christmas a few years back, she was handed off to her parents who had rushed her to the hospital. When Brian brought his son over on Halloween when he was first born, Shawn held him and when the little bugger started getting fussy, he was passed back to his dad.

Shawn usually liked having no ties to anything because it was much easier that way and he doesn't know what comes over him, but he starts crying and it's almost like he's drunk.

He's been told he's quite emotional and philosophical when he's drunk, and he hasn't had a lick of alcohol in ages but he feels kinda loopy and it could be the fact that's it's 3 AM and he's running off of four hours of sleep and a cup of raspberry tea from earlier, but he's almost full on sobbing.

"Don't want you to get older. Want you to stay my baby forever, yeah? Soon you'll be off to school and dating boys. Or girls. Daddy doesn't really care, pumpkin. And, Jesus Christ. You better stay away from Emmett. He's just like your Uncle Brian and I know how he used to treat girls back in the day, but that's not the point and I'm - I'm rambling so much right now but I love you,” he wipes his eyes with his hand and adjusts the baby on his lap, “I want you to be my little Ella forever and I know that you're gonna get older and you're gonna hate it when I call you Gabby Ella in front of your friends, but I'm not gonna care. Daddy's not gonna care, angel."

Gabriella’s attention turns from her daddy's hand to his torso and the defined muscles that make ridges on his stomach.

This is her favorite place to rest, and she turns her head to the side to lay on his torso. Her breathing becomes even and she bats her big eyes to rest. So Shawn pulls the blanket over them that he keeps nearby on the couch, and decides to head to sleep too.

He doesn't care if his undiagnosed insomnia continues to keep him awake like this or if jet lag keeps him bouncing off the walls in the wee hours of the morning.

All he cares about is his little baby resting on his stomach, and really, that's all that will matter to him forever and always.

@fourtristattoos

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Broken Edges- Part 4

This is my version of fluff so enjoy it while it lasts! I wish I could apologize for the cliffhanger but it was so much fun to write...Who do you think is with our dear Y/N? 

Catch up HERE 

Steve Rogers x Reader 

Word Count: 1.8k 

Warnings: language, kidnap, flangst (if you squint)

***********************************************

“What the hell are you doin on the floor, pal?” Bucky’s voice sounded foggy as the message transmitted to Steve’s sensitive ears. He couldn’t hear anything above the high-pitched ring vibrating through his canals and taste the blood from biting the inside of his cheek. He was frozen, not in fear, but shame, humiliation, and unexplainable uncertainty. 

Steven Grant Rogers was officially the world’s biggest fuck up. Usually he could talk his way out of any troubling situation merely with his persuasive smile and easy-going personality, but Y/N destroyed him with her ingenuously quick tipped words. Steve kept thinking about the despondent look in her eyes before she abruptly slammed the door in his face. It was guaranteed to torment him not only during his waking hours but without question in the lingering night terrors yet to come.

Out of the blue, a large hand lingered upon his shoulder before the intruder cautiously shook him alerting him of the stranger’s very close proximity; “Steve, everything alright man?” It was Bucky. The only other person in this god forsaken building that probably didn’t want him flayed alive…at least not yet.

“Can I uh, ask why you are on the ground?”

Still stunned from his previous interaction with Y/N; he had no other choice but to man up to what he’d done. The words were like molting lava ready to escape a treacherous terrain but he reverted to simplistic quacking getting to the meat of the breakup. All confidence disappearing, Steve murmured;

“She dumped me.”

Steve felt Bucky’s grasp tighten against his right shoulder, giving him a hard pat for good measure before proceeding onward; “Well, she was pretty upset when I saw her this morning. That girl talks in code majority of the time so I didn’t really get the full story. I guess it didn’t end well based off the dumbfounded expression etched onto your face right now, hmm?”

Rapidly turning his head to meet another set of familiar baby blues, Steve no longer had control of what spewed from his lips at that very moment; “You don’t know shit, Bucky. I thought you were on my side.”

Exasperated, Bucky refuted back quicker than lightning; “Hey man, don’t take your frustrations out on me. I’ll always be on your side but I also have no freaking idea what really is going. So, please enlighten me to what the hell is exactly happening.”

Grunting, Steve no longer saw any point to hiding his demons. Sooner or later, the entire team would know how much of a dick he truly was. Might as well get ahead of the game.

“I slept with Nat. I made a colossal lapse in judgment and carelessly shattered Y/N. That’s what happened.”

Bucky backed away from his friend, unaware of how to process the information he was given. Thinking back to his earlier conversation with Y/N, Bucky finally started to connect the dots and align the context clues. The wheels in his mind rotated on full speed wondering just how Captain America found himself in such a predicament. He tapped his knee in hopes of getting the super soldier up and out of the hallway so they could continue this discussion in private. He definitely needed the gaps filled in for him even if he had to twist his best friend’s arm. Bucky was determined to get to the bottom of this.

                Y/N’s POV:

The cooling sensation of the door felt wonderful against Y/N’s tense back muscles. Her head clonked against the surface reminding her that she indeed had just kicked Steve Rogers out of her sight, and it felt fucking superb. She sauntered towards her bed faceplanting into an array of cush pillows aligning her headboard. Y/N wasn’t much for history but at that exact moment she felt like an amazon warrior; powerful and assertive. Throughout history, falling in love never got an easy reputation. Lives destroyed, homes ruined, families broken due to people’s selfish belief in the power of love. No one dared speak of its real consequences caged in the darkest corners of humanity. Awaiting the broken hearted like thorny vines on a rose bush; enticing from afar luring in its prey before singe-handedly attacking in the name of devoted adoration. That was certainly one way to lure the gullible and weak minded. 

She was neither, at least not anymore. Y/N rolled over gazing at her ceiling. For once the pressure in her chest dissipated, oxygen flowing into her airways. She was able to breath for the first time in months. She should’ve done this sooner. Y/N was now beginning to understand who her knight in shining armor truly was…the woman she had always been. Thinking back on Steve’s trepidation, Y/N spotted that her problem was she allowed herself to be wanted so badly, she couldn’t tell it wasn’t love at all. Initially noticing the beautiful wrapping paper that entailed her gift before understanding who really was layered within Steve Rogers.

Y/N didn’t let herself off the hook that easily. It takes two to tango when dancing with the devil and she eagerly obliged him. She settled for his pretentious impression of friendship permitting it to linger towards sex because she wanted him. Revenge was far too personal but vengeance, vengeance was cunning, detrimental, and brought a sickening grin to Y/N’s rosy lips. 

So long to the girl who was sweet and simple. Y/N refused to be what people tell her to be. That Y/N was long dead. But, before she could concoct her masterplan her brain swam mindlessly begging for sleep, her lids weighed heavily as Y/N found her eyes closing and her surroundings go black.

When Y/N awoke, her bones ached in a lethargic manner and she was in desperate demand of vodka; the perfect numbing agent.   Her limbs riddled from stress; she stretched, a loud yawn escaping its way out. It was then Y/N realized she wasn’t alone in her room. Impossible. After giving Steve the boot, she had made sure Jarvis had secured all locks and rejected all wandering guests. 

A calm red glow caught her attention in the corner of her room. Wanda. Though intrusive, Wanda’s company was pacifically soothing and exactly what Y/N yearned for.

Wanda watched intuitively staring in Y/N’s direction unwillingly to break the peaceful calm.

“Wanda, I’m not blind. I can clearly see you creeping in the corner.”

Wanda sassed back at rapid fire; “Oh my god, she speaks! Wow, for a second I thought you were dead.”  

A giggle passed Y/N’s lips, it felt refreshing to laugh; “I thought you read minds. Didn’t you get the memo I’m in mourning?”

Clearly amused, Wanda accepted Y/N’s bait; “Hmm, who died?”

Y/N bit the inside of her lip thinking twice before speaking; “The old Y/N. She’s dead and gone.”

“Interesting. And who is gracing my presence as we speak?”

“A badass bitch who no longer has a filter to deal with Captain America’s bullshit. That’s who.”

Instinctively, Wanda blushed unable to stop her powers from intruding upon Y/N’s thoughts.

“I’m sooo sorry, Y/N. I freaking slipped and please believe me when I say I didn’t mean to…”

Wanda neared her bed sitting at the corners edge, not to close but just enough. Knowing her darkest fruition finally felt quite liberating even if she hated to admit it. Of course, Y/N was irritated that Wanda unintentionally read her most secretive thoughts, she couldn’t fathom being mad at her friend for trying to help.

“I can’t believe him! Out of all people and Nat knew how you felt about him? I’m all about keeping the peace…but this is unacceptable.”

A breath whooshed through Y/N’s chest as she gathered herself; “You’re telling me…Steve almost said he loved me before I stopped him. There were so many things I wanted to tell him. But honestly, I hated knowing he’d been inside of her…given her such an intimate part of himself. Please tell me I’m not crazy?”

Y/N hated bringing Wanda, the idealistic middle (wo)man into this brass situation, but the white elephant in the room needed to be addressed at some point or another.

“Я понимаю мою любовь.” (I understand my love)

“я чувствую себя таким разбитым” (I feel so broken)

“You don’t have to explain. I literally…. get it. I just want to punch him in that rightful nose of his. Jesus! That man is infuriating.”

“He wasn’t always that way. Trust me.”

“But you love hi—”

“No….: Shaking her head in vast disagreement. “No. No. No. Please don’t say that, please.”

“…if you insist Y/N. I’m on your side regardless but I’m also bipartisan if Stark asks.”

Y/N couldn’t deny the inevitable; “Thank you…. Thank you for being a friend, Wanda.”  

   ------

Y/N’s resounding feelings were more than Wanda could handle without alcohol’s boost of influence. So, she stupidly made her way towards Tony’s lounge promising Wanda they’d catch up later. Nothing better than a little peace and quiet Y/N prayed, banking on its abandoned state.

Upon entrance, Y/N’s mouth watered, her throat parched as she appreciated the overly stocked bar Stark was so keen on maintaining.  Vodka soda with extra lime was her main pick of poison. She reveled in the slow burn down into her lungs, she moaned with pleasure. 

This was exactly what the doctor ordered. Y/N started to worry about being left alone with her thoughts for too long would be a bad thing, or a more challenging way of figuring her shit out.

Of course, Tony chose the finest of leather couches who’s price she probably didn’t dare guess. Y/N fell right into its cushiony heaven trying to not spill her drink in the process. She brought the chilled glass to her lips before gulping the remainder of the iced beverage no longer in existence. With her heels kicked up and feelings at bay for the meantime, Y/N briefly closed her eyes welcoming the darkness.

An enigmatic voice came out of the corner like a ghost lingering in the shadows, startling Y/N.

“Y/N. So very nice to see you again.”

A voice morphed from her very own nightmares.

“Hail Hydra моя милая богиня” (my sweet girl).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:  @kaithezaftig @awesomefanficlover @marvelfansworld @sergeantjbuckybarnes @hista-girl @calwitch @silent-loucidity@flightofthefantasies @lovely-geek @shannon124 @hulksmashin-bannerpackin@siren-queen03 @heyiamthatbitch @bake-motherfucka-bake @girls-inred @kielemarie @donner5822 @sophiria @iluvsumbucky @xstevenat

[taketherisk]

DICK GRAYSON, AKA NIGHTWING ⟶

Full name

Richard John Grayson

Preferred name/nickname

Dick

Generally referred to as

Dick, Grayson, Nightwing

Appearance.

FACECLAIM: Toni Mahfud SEX: Male HEIGHT: 5′11″ WEIGHT: 175 lbs. BUILD: Very toned. Muscular, but not bulky. Tight, corded muscle typically seen on acrobats and ballet dancers. HAIR: Not too short, ever, even though he knows it’d be more practical for combat. It is usually long just because Dick doesn’t make time to see a barber until it starts getting in the way. EYES: Bright electric blue. HANDS: He has long fingers. He’s been told he should play the piano. He did not let Bruce sign him up for piano. SCARS: Dick has an old gunshot wound on his shoulder, as well as his knee, and also several, smaller scars scattered over his body. CLOTHES: He would rather elect to wear something comfortable than dress up or adhere to a particular style of fashion. He likes his uniforms to reflect who he is, because authenticity is important to him, but this often results in fashion mishaps.

Speech.

ACCENT: No accent. He worked hard to rid himself of anything that could stand out in his voice in order to lessen the chance of it being recognized. LANGUAGE: Dick is fluent in Romany, English, Spanish, Italian, Farsi, Japanese, German, Russian, French, American Sign Language, Latin, Arabic, Swahili, Kikuyu, Mandarin, and Cantonese. He has a decent grasp on Portuguese, Romanian, Ukrainian, and Dutch due to his fluency in other languages with notable similarities. He would likely understand and be able to carry on a conversation, but he would not be fluent. As far as alien languages, he has a fair grasp of Tamaranean and is fluent in Kryptonian. ARTICULATION: Dick has an extremely difficult time articulating his feelings. He processes those in his head. He has a natural tendency to deflect on others (or change the subject) rather than divulge negative thoughts. EDUCATION: Dick’s tendency to show off has nothing to do with words. However, he’s not a moron. He will drop a big word here and there if he just can’t think of another way to describe what he’s trying to say. LAUGHTER: Dick laughs all the time. Even at his own jokes. He is constantly seeking levity and a way to lighten the mood. Usually it is to distract himself, however, because he is always willing to listen to others with complete and quiet seriousness.  GRUMP: When he was young he had his moments of grump, usually in the form of sneering or sarcasm, but he has (mostly) moved beyond that stage. BREATHING: Dick sighs a lot when he’s bored or made to wait. It isn’t because he’s trying to be rude, he barely even realizes he’s doing it, but he needs to direct the energy somewhere.

Mannerisms.

FACE: It depends. Dick’s priority first and foremost is maintaining a degree of professionalism. However, he feels very deeply and his internal ethics and values mean a lot to him. He has difficult displaying anything but authenticity. It takes effort to keep his face unreadable, but his sense of duty makes this possible. The same can’t be said around others, however. Dick wears his feelings on his sleeve. He just can’t help it. HANDS: Yes. He runs his hand through his hair, presses his knuckles against his lips, and gestures wildly with one hand even when he is completely silent.  LEGS/FEET: Oh, yes. Dick has a lot of nervous energy. Not just because he keeps a lot to himself, but his mind moves quickly and is constantly making connections, moving on to the next thing, and it’s difficult for him to get caught up in trivial matters when he can see the bigger picture. EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: Now, I want to stress that this isn’t common. However, Dick has a temper. Despite wearing his heart on his sleeve and being willing to demonstrate positive feelings, anything that could be seen as negative or “wrong” is completely repressed. When under normal day to day stress of being a superhero, he can manage this well. However, when he is saddled with added pressure, stress, or experiences loss, he lashes out at the people he loves. For Dick, it makes more sense to push them away so they won’t see these flaws he isn’t even ready to acknowledge within himself. In these rare instances Dick can withdraw from his family. POSTURE: Dick is very confident, so his posture is typically very straight. However, he is prone to slumping in place when in the throes of self-disappointment. WALKING POSTURE: Because of his extensive background in dance and acrobatics, Dick is graceful without being aware of it. This translates to almost everything he does. At this point in his life, it simply comes naturally to him. PERSONAL SPACE: When it comes to people he is comfortable with, personal space does not exist. However, in the context of unwanted touch or flirting, he experiences obvious discomfort. SPACIAL AWARENESS: Dick has good spacial awareness simply due to his past as an acrobat and the constant vigilance he was expected to maintain as a young vigilante. 

Health:

DIET: Dick doesn’t know recipes off the top of his head, but he can figure out how to cook anything with proper instructions. His biggest danger in the kitchen is getting distracted and forgetting something was ever in the oven. However, most of his meals are quick. He isn’t very good at managing his time. SLEEP: Because of his lifestyle, Dick’s sleeping pattern can be erratic. He also has a hard time getting to sleep. His mind overworks and he has too many nightmares. EXERCISE: He trains regularly, but with how often he patrols the streets his training is typically covered in patrol. ACTIVITY: This is strange for Dick. He overworks himself and is a perfectionist, but also lazy about other things that he doesn’t prioritize or see as important. For example: he will overwork himself to prove his competence and to live up to his need uphold an image of perfection. On the other hand, his counter is frequently scattered with days worth of mail and he regularly leaves his suit on the floor. I would never call him lazy, but he is an odd mix of unforgiving and laid back. CLEANLINESS: With a suit like that, he has no choice. He baths every night. Desperately. ODOUR: Bergamot and eucalyptus soap. Boy needs all the stress relief he can get. MEDICINAL DRUGS: No. NARCOTICS: No. ADDICTIONS: While he would never admit it, even to himself, Dick has a self-destructive streak and an addiction to adrenaline. He isn’t addicted to sex, but he had used it as a means to cope when he was at his very, very lowest. Again, this is not common for him. He is not comfortable with his inner darkness. ILLNESS: No. INJURIES: One of his knees is weaker than the other due to an old gunshot wound.

Personal.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: Extrovert. Dick analyzes his environment and connecting seemingly unrelated events in order to form a conclusion and the best plan of action that is consistent with his inner values. OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: Optimistic. GENDER: Cisgender. SEXUALITY: Dick falls in love easily. He finds it impossible to let go of people once they have found a way into his heart. Most of his serious relationships have been with women, but he has no preference for sex, race, species. Nothing. He cares about connections. However, he doesn’t spend a lot of time analyzing his sexuality and doesn’t think it’s important. ROMANTIC: He is extremely romantic and desperately wants to be married and have an idyllic life. However, he’s also made the mistake of convincing himself to take the step with the belief that it would fix a broken relationship. MEMORY: Dick is a big picture thinker. It isn’t his natural inclination to remember details. However, his training under Bruce has strengthened that tendency and he makes for a good detective. Most of his biggest breaks have been because of hunches and making connections, however, rather than remembering specific details like dates. PLANNING: Being leader of the Titans, Dick had no option but to plan. His goal was to keep his team safe. However, he was not happiest in the leadership role. He was good at it because of his interpersonal skills and ability to bring people together, as well as think on his feet, but he does best when working independently. It causes him too much stress to carry that responsibility. As Nightwing, he never has the sense that he is filling a role. PENSIVE: Yes. Dick is hard on himself and therefore spends a lot of time thinking about how he could have done something better, with better results, and blames himself when something goes wrong. INTUITION: Dick has extremely high intuition and it has gotten him out of tight spots in the past. It is his greatest strength. PROBLEM SOLVING: It depends on the puzzle. With dry facts, no. Dick’s problem-solving abilities hinge on the opportunity to approach the problem from various points of view. It is also important that the solution does not go against his personal values. Despite his tendency to prioritize ethical standards (and being more of a feeler), he is proficient with logic. GOALS: Dick has no broad, sweeping goals; all he wants is to prevent one kid from going through what he went through. INSECURITIES: Dick is insecure about his authenticity. He works hard to meet Bruce’s expectations, but he also hides things that don’t line up with this image. That tendency puts a wall between him and others. It is difficult for him to reconcile with not being perfect. ACHIEVEMENTS: His siblings.  ANXIETY: Helplessness, boredom, and confusion give Dick the most anxiety. OVERWHELMED: He can often get overwhelmed, he carries too much on his shoulders, but it takes something extra to make him actually lash out. SELF-HELP: Unfortunately, he doesn’t. Dick’s coping mechanism is deflection, denial, and avoidance. He doesn’t like to discuss his own feelings because that would mean putting his issues on others. He would rather handle it himself. Unfortunately, he can’t. COMFORTS: An honest conversation and feeling as if he’s made real progress in his relationships with his brothers or in his own life. Stagnancy is not an option. BAD HABITS: Deflecting. PHILOSOPHY: Continuing to place trust in people, because anyone is capable of change.

Relationships.

FRIENDSHIPS: Dick is someone with a lot of friends, but they all know him in different capacities. He only has a handful of close friends. FRIENDS IN NEED: Dick is a supportive listener and is willing to stop everything to be there for the people he cares about. ADVERSARIES: Friendship, being lied to or betrayed. Romance is harder. Dick has a hard time ever letting go of past loves. ENEMIES: Betrayal and an understanding that no redemption exists. STRANGERS: Respectful, unless the stranger does something off the bat to insult or degrade Dick’s belief system. BEST FRIEND: Roy Harper and Wally West. LOVE: Barbara Gordon was the one that got away. WORST ENEMY: Joker. RESPECT: It depends on the enemy, but Dick would not be able to see them as a true enemy, or there would be substantial grey area.

Interactions.

MINGLING: Making new friends comes easily for Dick, but he would find it difficult to admit that trust does not. COMFORT LEVELS: He feels comfortable almost immediately. However, that switch can flip just as quickly if someone challenges one of his deeply held values. PHYSICAL: He is physical to those he knows well and knows would feel comfortable with it. Dick has been made to deal with unwelcome touching and it makes him uncomfortable. GROUPS: Dick is comfortable in a big group. He likes to relax and tease. Sometimes being one on one can be a bit too intense for him. Opening up to people doesn’t happen quickly. GENEROSITY: He is generous to a fault, to the point where he would be easily taken advantage of, but he has money to burn. JEALOUSY: Dick isn’t immune to jealousy and he felt his share when he was young and still understanding the ins and outs of relationships. He knows not everyone shares his desire to be monogamous and he is often concerned about making someone feel trapped. TEMPER: It takes a severe circumstance or a long build up of tension/issues/pressure/stress for Dick to lose his temper. However, it’s unnerving because he acts so out of character. EMPATHY: Dick is very empathetic, but he also puts his own values above others and this can come off as dismissive. AFFECTION: Touch. Gifts. Words of affirmation. Dick isn’t too proud and he’s certainly confident enough to admit his feelings for someone. He has no trouble being the pursuer.  DISTASTE: The type of person he would dislike would either disrespect and speak against Dick’s personal moral code, something he holds very dear, or he would disrespect those close to him. His response would be stubbornly dismissive. If this were someone he cared about, he would desperately try to convince him that his way is best. ETIQUETTE: Dick’s etiquette is practiced because he was raised as Bruce Wayne’s heir. However, he has a hard time acting fake polite, which can put a considerable strain on interactions if he is offended or annoyed. RESPONSIBILITY: Yes. If Dick sees the consequences of his bad choices, he is quick to take responsibility and (sometimes unfair) blame. SELF ESTEEM: While Dick doesn’t let others push him around in any sense, if someone manages to tap into his insecurities, he will not lie and argue against the truth of his perceived shortcomings. However, when it comes to his decisions and competency, he has high self esteem and he will only listen to others if they present a solid point. CONFIDENCE: Only his family and those he cares about. HONESTY: Dick is always honest, but he also errs on the side of hopefulness and rarely speaks in absolutes unless it comes to his own feelings. He does not sugarcoat a situation when it looks bleak because he knows it does little good to lie and will not solve the problem. It ties into his difficulty in being fake. LEADER OR FOLLOWER: Leader. But he prefers working alone. PARTY TRICKS: He’s very flexible and knows a lot of random circus tricks. Tumbling, gymnastics, acrobatics, and impressive parkour gets some oohs and ahhs.  PRAISE: Dick yearns for praise, but because he still feels as if he falls short, it is natural for him to find reasons to underscore his accomplishments. CRITICISM: Criticism is something he takes to heart if it taps into what he already thinks about himself. INSULTS: Unless they reflect his true inner self, Dick brushes them off. EMBARRASSMENT: No. When he is embarrassment, he finds a way to laugh it off. FLIRTING: Yes, but selectively flirtatious. Dick yearns for connection and validation, which is something he seems to think he’ll get from love. ATTENTION SPAN: It depends on the circumstance. Dick can be remarkably focused and he doesn’t tap out of the situation unless it is just incapable of holding his attention. He’s intelligent; so, like his body, his brain is restless and eager to jump onto the next theory once he’s exhausted the current one. SITUATIONS: Because Dick has remarkable empathy and he cares about people, he is very good at handling interpersonal conflict and treating his team the way he knows he’d want to be treated: like equals.

Life.

SHOPPING: Only when absolutely necessary. Dick doesn’t need to surround himself with things he doesn’t need. He rarely spends time at him as it is. DRIVING: Yes, all manners of vehicles. FINANCES: Being that Dick is the son of Bruce Wayne, his financial position is secure. He does have to set up everything through auto-pay however, or he will forget. MARRIAGE: Dick does want to get married because he thinks that falls in line with who he wants to be. KIDS: Same as above. PETS: He could take them or leave them, but he does like animals. He just doesn’t have time for them. LAW: Countless acts as a vigilante have been illegal, not least of all murdering Joker. ILLNESS/MENTAL OR OTHERWISE: Other than constant anxiety, no. WORRIES: Everything. Literally. Mainly he worries about the safety of his family. PEACE: Dick can’t stand total silence because he gets overwhelmed with his thoughts. He always has to have something playing, even if he’s not listening to it. PARTYING: Dick isn’t a big partier. He doesn’t like to drink or act fake, so it just isn’t his scene. HOBBIES: He likes to play the guitar. He also enjoys, particularly Shakespearean roles, and he’ll dramatically act out the parts and make his siblings laugh.

[momentofmemory]

fictober - day twenty-one

Prompt #21: “Change is annoyingly difficult.”

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe (Doctor Strange; Guardians of the Galaxy)

Rating: PG

Characters: Peter Quill, Stephen Strange, Gamora (mentioned)

Words: 1470

Author’s Note: set in the immediate aftermath of the battle at the avengers hq in avengers: endgame. 

>>A Gamora by Any Other

“Gamora!”

Quill stumbled through the battlefield, searching for any signs of green skin.

“Gamora?” He reached out and grabbed the wrist of the green alien he’d just spotted, but when the creature whirled around and he was met a pair of six inch mandibles instead of a thin-lipped smile, he knew he’d guessed wrong.

“Sorry, thought you were someone else.” He amended his search parameters to green skin and maroon hair, because apparently a lot of aliens matched the first part. The one in front of him glared, and he cleared his throat.

“Love what you’re doing with your look, though.” He gestured vaguely at his own face. “Very intense. Jaw forward. Bet the chicks dig you.”

The larger creature growled something Quill didn’t entirely understand, but was probably not very polite, and stomped away. Quill wondered if maybe he should try looking for Gamora’s really pointy swords instead. They had to be at least somewhat unique, right?

He sighed, looking around at all the massive piles of ashes. This was so not how he wanted to spend his evening.

He cupped his hands over his mouth, ready to try again.

“Gamor—”

“She’s gone.”

“Jesus—” Quill spun on one foot, nearly losing his balance in the process, and found the weird wizard guy from Titan staring at him. “Oh. You.”

“Doctor Strange,” the man said, giving him a withering look. “And I’ll say it only once more: Gamora’s gone.”

He spun his hands in an arc, two orange disks appearing in front of him, and the many piles of dust in the area started to merge.

“Jeez, I forgot your name, not what you said two seconds ago,” Quill said, already put up with this guy’s attitude. “So when you say gone, do you mean like to the bathroom? My ship? Some other ship?”

“Possibly.” Strange shrugged. “Assuming she survived the snap.”

“What does that have to do with anything? The beard guy just took out Thanos’s people!”

Another shrug, and a portal opened and dumped the debris Strange had collected into a dark abyss before closing. “I don’t know if he knew she wasn’t one of them.”

“What—of course she wasn’t!”

Doctor Strange brushed by Quill, apparently unimpressed by his certainty. “If that makes you feel better. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Whoa, hey, come back here!” Quill’s hand grabbed at the wizard’s cape, but it snapped away on its own accord before he could get ahold of it.

There must have been something in his tone of voice, however, because Strange stopped anyway.

“You’ve got the weird seeing into the future thing, right?” Quill cast his hands to either side of him, the answer obvious. “Can’t you just like, check where she is for me?”

Strange stared at him with an intensity that made him uneasy. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

Something that could have passed as pity in another man’s eyes flickered across Strange’s face, and then the blank expression returned. “The Gamora you knew never returned from Vormir.”

“See, now I know you’re not so good at this, ‘cause saw her like an hour ago and I’m pretty sure she was fine. Super fine, actually. Helluva kick.” Quill gestured downwards. “My balls still hurt a little.”

Strange rolled his eyes. “That was a Gamora, yes. But a Gamora brought from a different timeline than the one we’re in now. The one you knew is still dead.” He sighed. “For what it’s worth, Peter, I’m sorry.”

Strange turned, his cape swirling behind him, and started walking away to resume his role in cleaning up the battlefield. Several other orange disks glowed in the distance, as other sorcerers joined in the efforts, leaving Quill to stare blankly at the ground as he tried to wrap his head around what Strange had said.

Just a Gamora?

“Hey, wait!”

Peter scrambled after the wizard, nearly slipping on one of the larger piles of ash. “You’re saying the woman I saw—that wasn’t Gamora?”

“Did you listen to anything I said? Yes, it was Gamora. Just the one you met in 2014.” Strange swept the ash out from under Peter’s feet, nearly face planting the Terran in the process.

“So Gamora—the Gamora I fell in love with—she’s just, what? Gone?”

“On the contrary. She’s exactly the same as the Gamora you first met, so I suppose if you’re one of those love at first sight types of people you might still be in love with her.” Strange started flicking ash out of the sky. “Whether you’re the still Quill she could fall in love with is an entirely different story.”

“Are you always this cryptic?”

Maddeningly, Strange just chuckled. “An unfortunate side effect of being Sorcerer Supreme, I suppose.”

Pretentious and an asshole.

“Look, you’ve had five years to mature since you first met the original Gamora,” he said. “Though the idea of you being even less mature than you are now is truly horrifying.”

Strange dropped his dust collection through another portal, this time one that looked like it led to some kind of arctic landscape. “She, however, has lost all of that growth. Who can say if she’;l still find you attractive.”                             

Peter balled his hands into fists. “So how do I fix it?”

“You can’t. This was the only timeline I could influence to get the best outcome for the most people. You’ll learn to adapt.” Dr. Strange rose several feet in the air to get a better view of the broken dam, forcing Peter to look up. “Change is annoyingly difficult, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Annoyingly—I loved her, you dick!” Peter’s hand twitched towards his blaster. “I lost—we were finally in a good place, man, and now she’s gone and you’re calling it annoying?”

“I meant no particular disrespect. The snap is reversed, but we shouldn’t expect the universe to continue with no fallout from such a cataclysmic event.” Strange started lifting the wooden structure of the dam back into place, the water from the original blast long since redirected. “For example, you asked me to look into the future, and that is an act I can no longer perform. The time stone is gone, and without the need for its protection, the very reason for my position.”

Peter couldn’t believe this guy. “You’re really going to compare you losing your job to my girlfriend losing her life?”

Doctor Strange’s hands finally stopped moving, the orange glow dying from the tips of his shaking fingers. He sighed and lowered himself back down to Peter’s level. “No. No, I suppose not.”

Peter sighed and lowered himself to the ground, legs crossed beneath him and head in his hands. “Come on, man. Just throw me a bone. I know I messed up on Titan, but you can’t hold it against me forever, right?”

Strange looked confused for a second, but then waved his hand dismissively. “That was only one of the many ways our attack against Thanos could’ve gone. You might have a hard time getting the rest of your crew to agree with that, but I found it largely inconsequential.”

Peter wasn’t sure if knowing his own actions were irrelevant was a blessing or an insult, but he swallowed down his pride this time. “But—Gamora. If it was the her from before, is there any chance she still survived?”

Strange’s lips pursed. “You’re still willing to try to find her? Even if she’s reverted back to the state of your first meeting?”

“Absolutely. Yes.” Peter tilts his head in thought. “Come to think of it, she hit me in the balls that time, too.”

“Every time I think you might be remotely intelligent, you just have to add one more thing.”

“I resemble that!”

“Yes, that’s unfortunately the problem,” Strange said. “But, if you must know…”

Strange trailed off, then jerked his hands in a complicated motion Peter couldn’t follow. Water began flowing out of the levee, and after a few moments of just watching the river return to its normal levels, Strange spoke again.

“The stones seem to react unusually intuitively. If you think she was still worth saving, the stones might have come to the same conclusion, too.”

Peter nodded slowly, digesting the man’s words. “How will I find her, if she’s still alive?”

“Where would the Gamora you knew have gone?”

A few planets occurred to Peter almost instantly, and he’d be willing to bet Nebula would have quite a few ideas, too.

Strange must have seen something in his face, because the wizard gave him a rare smile. “Then act on that knowledge.”

Quill nodded enthusiastically, leaping to his feet, then yelped when the action pulled at his more tender parts.

Strange rolled his eyes.

“…And maybe get into the habit of wearing a cup.”

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Chapter 14

Title: Falling for the Holidays

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 4719

Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children.  However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”

Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Arguing, Terribly written Donna (I can’t write her to save my life so I don’t know why I used her as a character), Consumption of Alcohol, Drunkenness, and I think that’s it. 

A/N: Sorry everyone for taking so long with this chapter. I’ve been struggling a little with my personal issues so writing had proven a little difficult. But now I’m feeling a little better and banged out this baby in two days. And to make up for the long wait, this chapter is pretty lengthy. This is a loaded chapter and it moves fast paced, so I hope it’s okay and that it doesn’t seem a little too rushed. I just needed to move the series along so that we can get to the good stuff! Please let me know what you thought! I adore and appreciate the feedback! Thank you everyone for being so patient with me! xx

Series Masterlist

Dean knew all along, but despite that, it didn’t prepare him for the confirmation out of Lisa’s mouth. Ben was his. He had a four-year old kid. One that he didn’t even know about since recently.

Lunch was eaten in silence, Dean trying to wrack his brain around everything, while Lisa was just too afraid to say anything, not wanting to chance it and make him angry. It wasn’t until Dean was nearly done with his food did he finally speak.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. It was a simple question but it was a loaded one as well.

“I was too afraid to tell you. I know that’s no excuse, but we were broken up and you were leaving for college. I’m sorry. I was just… I was too scared.” Dean sighed. He couldn’t blame Lisa for being afraid, but Dean deserved to know. But he knew now, and that’s all that mattered, right? Dean was an understanding guy, wasn’t he? Yes, he was. His mom raised him to be a gentleman, and that was how he was going to handle this. Like a real man.

“You should have told me. We could have figured things out.”

“I know… I’m sorry,” Lisa choked, trying to keep her tears at bay, not wanting to worry her son… their son.

“Hey, hey. Come here,” Dean called, opening his arms for Lisa.

She wiggled out of her seat and slowly made her way towards Dean, letting him hold her as she sat next to him. She quickly felt at ease, meeting Ben’s eyes before smiling. Ben smiled in return, taking another bite of his burger, smearing ketchup and mustard over his cheeks.

As calm as Dean pretended to be on the outside, he was a floundering mess on the inside. He had no idea how to be a father, and he had no idea how he was going to build a relationship with his son and not fuck things up.

Speaking – or thinking about – fucking things up… there was the ordeal with you. You kissed him, and despite needing to be with Lisa and their son, he wanted nothing more than to rush into your apartment and kiss you again. Show you just how much you mean to him and how much he wished he was with you, but things were just too complicated. Life wouldn’t be life it was easy, right?

While Dean was with Lisa and Ben, you were alone in your tiny apartment laying face down on your comfortably worn couch, with your head buried in your favorite plaid throw pillow, the one Cass made for your birthday. It was lumpy and was a far cry from a square shape, but the fact that he made it didn’t only make it hilarious, it was genuine. You loved it so much.

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door. The tapping timidly soft. Your heart clenched wondering who it could be, until you heard a familiar face.

“Y/N?” It was Cass! Coincident? You think not. You had thought about him and the universe delivered him to your doorstep!

Without hesitation, you sprung off the couch, retching the door open before colliding your small body into his much larger and muscular one. You could feel his body tense under your grasp, but quickly relaxed as his arms cradled around your back.

“What are you doing here?” The words came out mumbled against his chest, but still coherent for him to understand.

“Jo called me. She said she saw Dean at Lafitte with…” he cleared his throat, “... with someone from his past, so I thought I’d come check on you.” You wanted to laugh at his use of words however, you were glad that he didn’t say her name. You couldn’t bare it at the moment.

“Did I ever tell you you’re an angel?” You muttered. Cass didn’t say a word, but he smiled, tightening his hold around you.

Meanwhile, Ketch was sitting outside your apartment in the parking lot, thinking about what he was going to say to you. He had witnessed you kiss the man you were in love with and he was beginning to get frustrated. He wasn’t making any progress with you. He needed to think of a way to get you on his side and start believing that you didn’t need Dean, didn’t want Dean. He needed you to believe you wanted him.

“C’mon Ketch, get it together. You can do this. You have women eating out of the palm of your hands. You can get one girl to fall in love with you...” he gave himself a pep talk.

With one final breath, he hopped out of his car, taking his time to get to your apartment, still processing what exactly he was going to say to you. He was sure that you already had some sort of feelings for him, how strong were they? He wasn’t sure, but he just needed to get himself out of the friend zone and into the potential zone. You were the first woman he really had to work for and it was infuriating, but at the same time, there was something inside him that was being a tad irrational. He was getting confused.

You and Cass had just sat down on your couch, the angelic man eyeing the throw pillow next to you. “When are you going to throw that horrid thing away? It’s been two years,” he spoke, referring to the gift he had given years ago.

“What are you talking about? I’m never throwing this away! You made it for me, and it happens to be my favorite pillow!” Cass has heard you say those words a million times, but he still can’t believe you actually like, let alone love, the pillow he made you. But regardless, it warmed his heart. You were like the little sister, or cousin, he wished he had. His family were a bunch of dicks, with a few who were tolerable.

Just as you and Cass got comfortable, another knock came from your door. You started at crystal blue eyes as they stared back at you with confusion. “Who could that be?” You pondered out loud, a little disappointed. You wanted to tell Cass everything that happened, but was rudely interrupted.

“Would you like me to answer it for you?” Cass offered. You nodded in response, your heart hammering in anticipation.

What if it was Dean?! What would you do or say then?

Cass lifted himself off the couch and made his way towards the door, twisting the knob slowly before peeling the wooden surface ajar. He was met with a strange man he’s never seen before, his brows furrowing together, lips parting, in his signature lost puppy look.

“Oh. I wasn’t aware that Y/N had a visitor. I’m sorry, is she home?”

“If you mean Y/N has friends, then yes she does. A lot actually,” Cass sassed, not liking the aura he got from the man before him. Cass was pretty intuitive.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. Is she here?” Ketch asked.

“And whom should I announce is here to see her?”

“I’m her friend, Ketch. She left her things in my car so I thought I’d drop them off.”

“Cass, who is it?” You asked, now standing beside him. When he didn’t respond, busy starting down whoever was at the door, you shifted to his side so you could peek around him. Your eyes widened, completely forgetting about Ketch. “Ketch!”

“Y/N,” he greeted, giving you a sweet smile.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! Please come in,” you slipped from under Castiel’s arms so that you were standing in front of him. You used your body to press up against your long time friend, shoving him backwards as he adamantly resisted you. Cass kept his eye on the British man, squinting, unsure if he could trust him.

When you were finally able to get Cass to step back enough to give Ketch enough space, he walked in, setting your bag on the faded love couch. “You forgot your bag, so I thought I’d come drop it off, as well as see how you were doing, but it seems you’ve got someone else already doing that,” he forced a smile on his face as he glanced over at Cass again, who was still glaring.

“Uh, yeah. Cass is a really good friend of mine. Cass, this is Ketch. He’s a friend I met on the plane ride back here,” you introduced.

“I see. It’s ni—,” Cass cut himself off, “it was unexpected to meet you.”

“Yes. Quite unexpected,” Ketch replied, clearly not happy with Castiel’s presence, as he eyed him down. He wondered if Cass was another hurdle he’d have to jump over to have you. “Let me guess… the Lincoln outside is yours?” Ketch asked.

“Yes. Is there a problem?” Castiel replied.

“Not at all. It’s just… it matches your trench coat,” Ketch scoffed, as if it was supposed to be a compliment.

“What’s wrong with my trench coat. It was given to me by my dearest friend,” he defended. That trench coat was indeed given by a dear friend of his – Dean.

“Umm, anyways…” your eyes shifted between both men standing in your house. Ketch I am so sorry for ditching you like that. I hope you didn’t worry too much about me. That’s the last thing I want. I don’t want to cause you trouble. I just had a lot on my mind, and I guess I was a little overwhelmed.”

Ketch’s attention fell on you while Cass was transfixed on the other man, untrustingly. “It was no trouble, and I completely understand. I just want to let you know before I go, that I’m here for you. If you ever need to talk, you have my number. I’ll pick you up, meet you here, and we can go anywhere you’d like.”

“Thanks Ketch. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ketch leaned in, giving you a hug, and behind his back, you could see Castiel tensing.

When Ketch pulled away, he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, a sentiment he’s never done before. To be honest, it was a little weird. Kind of like he was overstepping the boundary. Yes, you liked him, a flicker of a crush in your heart for the man, and stray thoughts of maybes and what ifs swarming around the idea of being with him, but on the scale… your feelings for him had no match for the feelings you held Dean. If Ketch had a chance, he’d be waiting a long time for that to happen, unless you sold out on yourself and tried to use him as a means to an end, but also to the beginning of something that could work?

Once Ketch was gone, Cass glared at you like a father waiting for his guilty child to explain. You let out a deep sigh, falling onto your couch, Cass along with you, and you told him everything. Every. Single. Thing.

After that, Jo came around and you had to explain it a second time. A day latter, you found yourself explaining to Castiel’s girlfriend, Meg! Why? You weren’t sure. You didn’t even know her that well. But after a week had past, everyone was caught up and has accepted everything that’s happened. A fake relationship gone terrible wrong.

One week turned to two weeks, and soon Christmas was only a couple of weeks away, and no one had barely talked to Dean. Jo had a handful of short conversations, and Castiel was able to get one heart to heart talk with his best friend, but that was it. You had gotten no contact from him, and when you’d try to call him once, it rang twice before going straight to voicemail. Obviously, he had ignored your call, and that was enough to crush you.

According to Cass, Dean had found out that Ben was his kid. That was news you ever not expecting. It had taken a few days for you to settle with that information, but it made sense why Dean was always MIA. He has been busy trying to jump into fatherhood. Balancing school in hopes to graduate and learning to be a father was apparently time consuming.

BUT – and maybe you were just bitter – you were damn sure that if his friends mattered, he’d make the time. He’d make the time to have lunch with you and the others, he’d try to talk to you, even if it was through texting. He’d try something. But alas, Dean was drifting further and further away from you. From all of you. Just because of some girl. Just because of some kid.

Wanting to beat yourself up, you scolded yourself for having those thoughts. You didn’t give a rat’s ass about Lisa, but Ben wasn’t just some kid. He was Dean’s kid. And you couldn’t blame the four-year old for who his parents were. And you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling disappointed either.

Not only was Dean back with his ex, his first love, he had a baby with her! A living breathing person!

But what could you do about it? Zilch. Nada. Nothing what so ever.

With everthing that was happening, you had hung out with Ketch a few times since the encounter with him and Castiel, and eventually, your relationship had diminished into mostly texting everyday with a possible phone call. Once in a while you’d catch him around town and you’d stop to say hello, or sometimes he’d walk into your workplace ordering a coffee and scone, all the while flirting with you shamelessly. Even your co-workers couldn’t keep to themselves, butting into your conversations and business.

Things were starting to get better – which surprised you.

One night, you decided that you were determined to get the old you back with a night out with the girls! You and Jo rallied up all your lady friends, and headed out to the local bar, on a Friday night, and the place was packed as always!

“I’ll find us a table!” Charlie shouted over the blaring music, “you know what I like!”

“I’m gonna go with her!” Bess announced. Bess was a good girl. She never drank and was always happy to be the DD. All that mattered to her was having a good time and making sure everyone got home safe. You loved Bess. Every group of friends needed a Bess.

After grabbing the first round, and a few shots later, everyone was on the dance floor, grinding against one another, laughing, drinking, just letting loose, and for the first time in a long time, it was like you and Dean never happened. You were having fun.

Lost in the music, you found a strong grip around your waist, pulling you closer to their tall and muscular body, and you flipped your hair to one side of your neck, peeking over your bare shoulder to meet deep brown eyes staring back at you and a cocky smiled playing on his lips. It was Michael. Castiel’s big brother, Michael. The same Michael that Dean despised.

Oh… if only Dean could see you now. You’d rub it in his face just to spite him.

Jo and the other girls shared a look at each other, smiling in approval of the surprise guest. With a chorus of giggles, the girls wiggled elsewhere on the dance floor to give you and Michael some privacy. They knew if Cass or Dean was here to see this, they’d flip their lid! But they weren’t. And an attractive man is an attractive man. Why not have a little fun?

You were grinding up against him, your confidence back at it’s peak. You didn’t need Dean, you didn’t need to settle for Ketch, no – you could be single and have fun with no restraints.

Swaying your hips against Michael’s crotch, you slithered down before bending over and sliding your ass over his hardening length. That’s the moment you knew you were in control. You had the power. Then suddenly his hands were quick to pull you upright, one hand locked in your hair while the other pressed on your stomach, keeping you flush against him, allowing him to squirm his hips against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he was for you.

Fuck.

You shivered in his grasp, and Michael smirked. “I’m always in control,” he growled in your ear. His voice more intoxicating that the alcohol you consumed.

“Fuck,” you gasped. You had never met someone like him before. You’ve only seen him from afar, heard stories about his reputation, but this was the first time you’ve ever come face to face. This was your first time ever interacting with him, and shit. The rumors did no justice.

“Mmm,” he hummed, “If that’s what you really want.”

Before anything could escalate, someone interrupted. “Mind if I cut in?” a familiar accent filtered through your ears.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?” Michael hissed.

“K-ketch?” you questioned, pulling yourself out of Michael’s grasp. “What are you doing here?”

“Stopped by for a drink when I saw you dancing with him,” Ketch squared up against Michael. This was the first time you’ve ever seen this side of Ketch before. Was he drunk? What the hell was up with him? Was he seriously acting jealous right now?

“Sorry, is she your girlfriend? Maybe next time you should keep her on a tighter leash,” Michael chuckled.

Your jaw dropped at his words. You were offended. “Excuse you,” you stormed back in front of the cocky bastard. “I am nobody’s girlfriend, and you are a sexist asshole!”

“Feisty. I like my woman feisty. Bet you’ve got a filthy mouth in bed –” His words were cut short when threw him a right hook.

“Jump off a cliff, asshat” you spat before storming off, Ketch giving Michael a smug look before following you out of the club.

“Wow, that was impressive,” Ketch chuckled, swaying a bit on his feet.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You barked. Ketch stared at you wide-eyed, not expecting you to lash out like that.

“What do you mean?” He asked flatly.

“Coming over like some jealous boyfriend! News flash, you’re not my boyfriend!”

“Sorry. I’m not sure what came over me. One minute I see you dancing with so random guy, and the next I’m walking over and the words just come out.”

“Look, Ketch. We’re friends. That’s it,” you sighed. After the few weeks, you’ve realized you didn’t like Ketch in any romantic form. You didn’t have a crush on him. You only liked the comfort he gave you. But now you had your other friends to help, and they were also getting you back on your feet. You had an actual support system and you were beginning to think for rationally rather than emotionally.

“I thought we had something?”

“Ketch… maybe we did, maybe we didn’t. We’ll always be friends but I don’t like you like that. I’m sorry.” Your words seemed a little harsh, but that’s what happens when you’re a slightly drunk. The filter comes off. “I think what I liked about you was the attention and comfort you were giving me during a vulnerable time, but I’m starting to feel like myself again. I mean, we’re still friends. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow or something?”

Ketch just stood there, eyes boring down on you. “Are you kidding me? Are you seriously turning me down right now?” He asked offended. “I spent weeks trying to help you and this is how your turning me down?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m a little drunk. And you gave me no other choice. I like you. I really do, but only as a friend. But don’t worry. Look at you. You’re a handsome fellow with a dreamy accent. You’ll find yourself a woman easy!” you tried to build up his ego.

Ketch let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger. “You are exhausting. Ever think that Dean doesn’t like you because you’re just too much to handle? That maybe he likes simpler woman, like Lisa?”

Your stomach sank. His words hurt and they were meant to.

“Wow…” you laughed defeated, “Just… wow. How would you even know if Lisa is a simple person or not?!” You retorted.

“Y/N, look… I’m sorry. I didn’t –”

“No. No, you did. You meant it. Thanks. I was having a great night and you come crashing in like a big stupid British wrecking ball! Thanks a lot. I’ll see ya around,” you dismissed him, turning on your heels. “I need a drink…” you muttered to yourself, before entering the bar.

By the end of the night, you were plastered and Bess was having a hard time getting everyone in the car. Everyone was pretty shitfaced and she didn’t know how to handle it, so she called for back up.

She called Benny to grab Jo, Castiel to get Meg, and Dean to get you. She was surprised that she was able to catch a hold of him. Bess was well aware that Dean had been distant from all of his friends. The only person who saw him the most was Benny, because Dean would bring over his little “family” over to eat all the time.

When Dean arrived, everyone was shocked. “I told you he was coming,” Bess chided at those you didn’t believe her. She gave him the benefit of the doubt, and Dean didn’t fail her.

Dean approached the group, awkwardly greeting everyone. He quickly searched around for you, knowing that he was there to bring you home. He didn’t spot you and was about to ask Bess where you were when the loud voice of a certain, tiny redhead, boomed through the parking lot.

“The idiot knight in shinin’ armor arrives!” Charlie shouted obnoxiously, her words slurred. Castiel glared at her exasperatedly, grabbing her arm and shoving her into the back seat of his car. Dean sighed, instantly knowing that they’ve definitely heard your side of the story.

“I’ll bring her home too,” Castiel nodded, before giving his best friend and apologetic stare.

“Yo, Donny! Jump in! Us blondes need ta stick together, ya feel me?!” Jo yelled at Donna, who giggled before taking large awkward steps, as if she was trying to avoid falling into lava.

“How much, exactly, did they have to drink?” Castiel questioned, all sober sets of eyes on Bess.

“Well… Y/N kind of got into a fight?” She noticed all three men twitch at her words and quickly spoke again. “Not a fight! It was more of… uhh… she punched a guy, and this other guy followed her outside, and when she came back, she ordered a round of shots, and then another, and then random guys started buying everyone shots and well, by the time Abby was dancing on the bar, that’s when I called you. You have no idea how hard it was to get them all out of there.”

“She promised us doughnuts!” Donna shouted from the back of Benny’s pick up.

“Donna, what ya doin’ back there? C’mon and get in the truck. You’re sittin’ next to Jo!” Benny left to help Donna out of the bed of the truck and into the cab. Jo giggled while Donna attempted to climb in.

“I betcha thinkin’ I need to get some climbing lessons, dontcha? Well, that’s because I do,” she joked, making Jo laugh harder.

“Hey! What ya laughing ‘bout over there!” You slurred walking out of the bar, a beer bottle in hand.

“Y/N!” Bess shrieked.

“Oh yeah! The night’s still young, bitches!” Abby walked out right after. “Hey boys, care for a drink?” She wiggled her eyebrows before slinging her arm over your shoulder.

“What’s he doin’ here!” You grumbled, wobbling as you pointing at Dean with your beer, some of it’s contents flying out of the bottle. “We didn’t invite boys! No boys allowed! They’re goss!” You yelled, throwing your bottle at Dean. Luckily, he caught it, bringing the brown bottle to his lips and chugging what was left of it. “Hey! Dude, what the fuck? That was my beer!” you chided.

“We’re going!” Dean snapped, taking three long strides and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey! Who do ya think ya are? I’m gonna rip your head off!” You were punching his back and butt, his arms easily pinning your legs.

“I’d like to see you try, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that. Only Dean can call me that!” You voice croaked.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Dean nodded in goodbye before hauling you to his truck.

Reaching his Ford, he wrenched the door open and swiftly set you in. But as he tried to buckle your belt, you resisted.

“I don’t like you, get away!” You whined, pushing at his chest, head, shoulders, anywhere you could. “Stop! I don’t need ya. I don’t need anything from ya,” you bonked his head with your fist like a hammer.

“Would you just stop! Just for like two seconds!” Dean hissed, grabbing each of your wrists and glaring at you. His eyes quickly softened when he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I hate you…” you muttered before snatching your hands away and buckling yourself in, although it took a few tries.

By the time Dean had climbed into the driver’s seat, you were already out cold. He let out a deep sigh, sitting in his truck, watching you. If things were different, if Lisa hadn’t come back into his life, if Ben didn’t exist (or at least wasn’t his), he was sure he’d make sure that you were his and he was yours. You wouldn’t be out at the bar with the girls. Instead, he would have taken you out on a date, and you’d be wearing that little black dress to dinner. You would both have dessert, and then he’d end the night by taking you home and showing you how much he cared about you, prove to you how much he was in love with you. Make you believe that there was only you.

That it is only you.

As he parked in his usual parking space outside your apartment, he hopped out of the truck, and carefully opened the passenger door that you were leaning on. He held you steady as he widened the door, hooking his arms under your back and knees. As if you were light as a feather, he easily picked you up, using his hip to shut the door, before quickly locking it with his beat up key fob and shoving it into his back pocket.

It was late so no one was walking around the building halls, which Dean was a little thankful for. It saved him the trouble of explaining to anyone, and all he wanted to was to get you in bed safe and sound.

When he arrived at your front door, he raised his foot against the wall, using it as leverage so he could rest some of your weight on his leg while he dug for his spare key. He was able to easily get the key in the slot and twisted the door open, kicking the door closed with his foot until he heard the click of the lock fall into place.

He brought you over to your room, laying you in the middle of your unmade bed before removing your strappy heals. He cursed quietly to himself about how girls shouldn’t wear straps. That were so difficult to undo. When he eventually got it off, you were sitting up on the bed without him noticing.

“Oh, shit!” Dean whisper-yelled when he realized you were awake, intensely watching him. He was about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Stay—” your voice sounded small.

“What?” He asked, unsure if he heard correctly.

“Please stay. Don’t leave. Don’t leave again.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

“Please! Please Dean, stay. Just for one night. All I want to do is sleep… so please.”

“Y/N—”

“Stay…” you whispered. And that was all it took.

“Okay.”

Say Something Nice Here!

Falling for the Holidays Tags: @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @winchesterprincessbride @amanda-teaches @dancingalone21 @a-winchester-fairytale @dolphincliffs @oneshoeshort @brewsthespirit-blog @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @atc74 @natasha-baggins @heavymetalhauswife @linki-locks11 @spnwoman @veevm @chameleah86 @kdcollinsauthor @claitynroberts @roonyxx @rainflowermoon @ladylaylo @closetspngirl @mirandaaustin93 @salt-n-burn-em-all @flamencodiva @fangirlanotherjust @winchest09 @shamelesslydean @couldabeenamermaid @alexwinchester23 @algud @gracefultrenchcoat494 @prettyinplaid94 @shhhs3cret @cookiechipdough @justkending @adoptdontshoppets @screechingartisancashbailiff

[shinneth]

What Myers-Briggs types do you think the main Trifecta characters would be?

Hmm. Well, I had a hard time settling one a single type for most of them, so I tried to find at least two for the six Trifecta “mains” - Paul, Reggie, Brandon, Conway, Barry, and Maylene.

(REALLY stretching it calling Maylene a “main”, especially since Chapter 13 is where she peaked; once Arc II happens, she’ll be in Out Of Focus territory for sure… buuuut she’s made her mark and a lot of readers take notice to her, so I threw her in)

Interestingly, I had no one pegged as INFP (Mediator/Idealist), which is where I fall in. Some characters fit half of it but I couldn’t justify the other half not befitting them (Paul and Conway were the partial contenders - and Brandon to a lesser degree… but Conway’s too charismatic and sociable, while Paul and Brandon aren’t deep thinkers to the point where they’re completely delusional like I am :P).

Paul - INTJ (The Mastermind) or ISTJ (The Inspector)

Safe to say if I had to pick one only, it would be INTJ. Definitely would sooner work alone than a group any day (and if Conway hadn’t been there for him like he’d been so much in Trifecta, this would likely still be the case for him - and Barry is more a result of Trifecta Paul’s character development). Much more comfortable doing things his own way and proving to the world he can handle himself. Even with Trifecta development, Paul still finds social activity a huge chore. Trifecta 21 has Paul go out of his way to be receptive to Conway’s friendliness, and it does take a toll on him physically and mentally. Also a master strategist, as per canon, and questions everything. And god help him if Paul is unsure of anything. It’s why he hates being indecisive in Trifecta; he believes even a wrong choice or a bad idea is better than none at all. And knowing his legendary levels of “patience”, he’s definitely not going to wait all day to find the right path.

With ISTJ… well, this was a Brandon contender, surprise surprise. Intimidating? Comes off that way. Serious? All the damn time. Formal, proper…? Well, he DOES respect his elders, for the most part. If he thinks you’re shit, he’ll treat you like shit, but Paul’s not nearly as eager to start shit as he was in his Trifecta youth. You can definitely say, either in canon or Trifecta, Paul’s a strong worker who follows his own moral code. For all his controversial shit, Paul has never once cheated or tried to take the easy way out. Now, he sure as hell isn’t PATIENT, and he doesn’t really put much stock in going out of his way to upholding social or cultural responsibility (especially the former). But Paul is typically quiet and reserved; while he’s prone to anger, he’s fully capable of keeping calm when he needs to. Even Trifecta Paul can pull this off unless he’s just physically about to break down. Often misunderstood? Ohhhhhh, yeah.

Reggie - ESFJ (The Provider) or ESTJ (The Supervisor)

ESFJ might actually be the lesser of the two here. Mostly because Reggie isn’t really an attention-seeker outside of his own family members. He doesn’t desire the spotlight; he just wants his daddy and lil bro to love and accept him! But Reggie IS an active young man, very social, way more thoughtful than he makes himself out to be, and totally IS the organizer for any family event that happens in the present-day and has been since his mother’s death. He’s the guy that everybody loves. It’s been a common theme in some AUs of his Trifecta persona where he ends up being one of the most popular kids in school with legions of girls who’d drop everything to date him and he just never notices. 

ESTJ covers him more uniformly. Reggie doesn’t want to be the star of the show, but he does want to help and offer advice to absolutely anyone who needs it. And he checks out on the listed traits: honest, dedicated, dignified, and traditional. You could definitely see him as a role model (even if Paul doesn’t) and he’s a good fit for a leader role. 

Brandon - ENFP (The Champion) or ENTJ (The Commander)

One of Brandon’s defining traits (that might’ve not been showcased in Trifecta yet since we’re not yet at the point where it’s mega-relevant) is that he will decide his own destiny and what path to take, damn what anyone else says. So there’s what wins him the ENFP brand. His intuition is pretty top-notch; terminal disease aside, Brandon can totally read Paul like a book even though he’s spent the better part of Paul’s life operating from a great distance and not really being around for his kid. He’s way more perceptive than most give him credit for, and though he’ll never admit it, Brandon does act on his feelings a lot. Even taking an overseas job shortly after his wife died while leaving his kids behind - he can say that’s solely because it was the best way to make up for the income difference, but really, it doubled as his desire to just remove himself from everything of Andrea’s influence. He had a harder time coping with her death than he’ll ever care to admit. Plus, Brandon’s unprofessional abandoning of his post that resulted in his return to Sinnoh? Totally impulsive. He also wasted no time making a detour to Reggie when Brandon learned he was in the hospital, so there you go. 

With ENTJ, this correlates with Brandon’s leadership skills as head of the Kanto Battle Frontier, as well as being the head of his own travelling trifecta with Byron and Palmer. Ambitious is putting it mildly for Brandon, honestly. And while he can be a slave to his feelings at times, Brandon is more known for acting with cold, hard logic. He’s likened to Paul in Trifecta for a reason. Brandon’s all for challenging himself, not afraid to make the hard calls(as his sacrifice for Regigas proves), and hell no he cannot sit still. 

Conway - INTP (The Thinker) or ENTP (The Visionary)

Well, Conway’s pretty damn easy to peg even if you didn’t take his Trifecta traits into account. INTP is Conway’s most well-known traits in a nutshell: absorbs info like a sponge, heavy on the logical, objective side of perspective… he plans, he hypothesizes, he observes, he analyzes, he theorizes, and he can pick up on details most others will overlook. Like, literally everything INTP applies to Conway. He’s the consummate INTP. 

ENTP has many of these traits, as well. Only major point of contention is not enjoying small-talk, as Trifecta Conway especially is very much all for that… at least for the people he deems worthy of it. Barry, he might not be much up for the small-talk as he would Paul or Dawn. I wanted to make sure to at least add one E-type here since I think it should be emphasized that despite his many typical nerd qualities, Conway is very much extroverted even in canon. He’s one of the most extroverted intellectual characters I’ve ever seen, honestly. Canon and Trifecta Conway love going in-depth with their thought processes, and he is a lover of learning. Loyal and energetic are also listed traits here, which are definitely more prominent Trifecta Conway traits, but notable ones nonetheless.

Barry - ENFJ (The Giver) or ESFP (The Performer)

While I think we can agree Barry is more of a “live in the now” type than any other character listed here, contrary to the ENFJ type, the other traits fit Barry like a glove. Especially the “living in their imagination opposed to the real world” aspect. Holy shit that is very Barry. But he is idealistic, highly charismatic, outspoken… and in Trifecta, he’s proved to grow like a weed on characters who’d otherwise never associate with him, such as Conway and eventually Paul. Barry’s also much more of an optimistic individual compared to his future travel-mates and much less prone to letting bad shit get him down for any length of time. 

ESFP speaks for itself. Barry’s the biggest spotlight whore of the Trifecta cast. Fun and livelihood are Barry’s core essences, and while he’s not the most considerate character to ever be around and thinking is secondary to everything, Barry isn’t a complete dick and will feel bad if he realizes he’s inadvertently hurt someone’s feelings. It may take him a while to understand that, but once he does, he’ll go out of his way to make you feel better. Barry doesn’t want to travel around with a couple of sad-sacks, after all. And while Barry’s an acquired taste who can and will rub people the wrong way… you know, compared to Paul and Conway, he’ll come off as the one most “normal” when it comes to people-persons. Barry’s aggressively extroverted, so even if it yields mixed results more often than he’d like, Barry will always go out of his way to connect with people.

Maylene - ISFJ (The Nurturer) or ESTP (The Doer)

Despite being one of the most developed characters among the gym leader category in the Pokemon anime, she is harder to peg down than the others. But IFSJ feels pretty accurate for her. Sensitive to the feelings of others could link to her identity as an aura-user… plus she was insecure enough to let Paul’s worlds wreck her shit. But she is extremely considerate of others, warm and kind-hearted, and bringing out the best in others is what she aims to do as gym leader. Considerate, loyal, unselfish? All fit Maylene perfectly. For a Fighting-type specialist and martial artist, she’s definitely a modest and gentle soul.

ESTP… I think Trifecta 13 proves how incompatible Maylene is with elaborate planning and handling shitloads of detailed instructions. If left to her own devices, Maylene definitely would have handled the issue in chapter 13 by directly confronting Saturn rather than trying her hardest to feign ignorance of his identity. She’s not hot-headed, but Maylene does far better winging it than adhering to something set out for her. Maylene does always strive to better herself, so she’s open to trying new things. While a little on the shy side, she enjoys being around people and she IS the head of her own damn dojo, so… there you go. While it’s a stretch to say she’s pragmatic or logical, she definitely comes off that way when you line her up with other characters of her type specialty and line of work. She is level-headed and down-to-earth, at least; I’ll say that much.

When you break it down, there are common carry-over traits between the two for everyone: 

Paul solidly has Introverted, Thinking, and Judging in his set. Checks out.

Reggie always carries Extroverted, Sensing, and Judging. 

Brandon is a sure bet for Extroverted and Intuitive. 

Conway is a consummate Intuitive, Thinking and Perceiving man. 

Barry is a lock for Extroverted and Feeling. Unsurprising.

Maylene only has Sensing as a consistent trait.

Well, that was more fun than I thought. Hope everyone else enjoys that!

[gravitascivics]

KANT BE SO

Yes, a cheesy title, but in its way, it hits the point of this posting.  This blog, after rendering a cursory description of how Romanticism got started in Europe, now begins describing its introduction into the US.  And in that, one comes across familiar titles:  “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving along with his “Rip Van Winkle.”  There’s James Fenimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans and the depiction of Puritanical morals in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter and Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick.  

But of direct interest to this blog are the essays and other non-fiction works of Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson.  And with these efforts, one can see that many Americans readily took up the themes their European counterparts had been expounding.  That included a high dose of moral judgement, an emphasis on individualism – from a more psychological perspective – and the importance of intuition, more on this in a bit.

They also promoted an almost reverence for nature – especially in the case of Thoreau – in which the message was it was “naturally” good while society was indulgent and corrupt.  Of course, as the last posting described and explained, these themes were recurring in Romantic offerings in Europe as those artists and writers took aim at the Enlightenment’s reliance on reason.  And to underline this divorce from Enlightened thought, American Romantics hit upon a term that they felt emboldened their disdain, that being transcendentalism.

Why?  That question takes one back to Europe.  There, the origin of this anti-reason strain gets an initial upstart not from an anti-reason argument, but one that placed certain restraints found in the works of Thomas Hobbes and John Locke.  In their works – to use a Lockean term – the mind at birth was a tabula rasa, a blank slate.  

It, then through experience, perhaps resulting from the succession of rewards and costs that one encounters, one “learns” to see those things that one should pursue and what one should avoid among what all those encounters teach a person.  In that one learns, from observing how one’s mind works, to reason since reasoning increases the probability of success.  To that argument, Immanuel Kant sought to qualify it.

He did not argue that reason and the ability to reason were not important aspects of learning and decision-making, but he claimed there was more going on in the mind and those processes of sorts were inborn abilities.  And that needs to be explained.  To begin, yes, at birth one experiences and/or observes isolated things out in one’s surroundings, but that is all a subject can do that relates to his/her reasoning ability.  

That is, each encounter is merely observing a sensation.  At that stage, reason could not do anything with each sensation or, to use the jargon, each thing-in-itself.  As such, each is phenomenal, or datum and one cannot pass any judgement about it.  To this point, there is agreement with David Hume in that Hume’s skepticism questioned the human ability to draw any conclusions even if colliding billiard balls then move away from each other.  

But, Kant adds, that upon that pure information, one has built-in a mental capacity – not based on experience – that allows one to make judgements of what underlies or constitutes those experiences.  And that is what Kant called with the unfortunate term, noumenal (roughly pronounced new-ou-min-al).

This noumenal is a totally different realm of knowledge into which the mind can tap.  It is through this element that the mind can investigate the nature of things or to pass judgement as to its ultimate truthfulness, its functionality, its morality, and other qualities that transcend its physical qualities, i.e., beyond one’s observation of the things-in-themselves.  And here, according to Kant, one does not use reason – reason only deals in the phenomenal.[1]

All of this review reminds this blogger of what he reads concerning contemporary psychological study of these human, mental abilities and processes.  For example, Nobel prize winner, Daniel Kahneman, writes:

 Our everyday intuitive abilities are no less marvelous than the striking insights of an experienced firefighter or physician – only more common …

[quoting Herbert Simon] “The situation has provided a cue; this cue has given the expert access to information stored in memory, and the information provides the answer. Intuition is nothing more and nothing less than recognition.” …

         An important advance is that emotion now looms much larger in our understanding of intuitive judgements and choices than it did in the past. [An] executive’s decision would today be described as an example of the affect heuristic, where judgements and decisions are guided directly by feelings of liking and disliking, with little deliberation or reasoning.[2]

 All this gets heavier as one plunges into Kant, and the purpose here is not to do so – even if this writer could – but to give the reader a sense of why Romantic Americans adopted the term transcendentalism.  In doing so, they probably extended Kant’s purposes, but it did fit into what they wished to promote.  As with their European counterparts, they had an attitude against reason and Kant’s transcendent argument fit their designs.  Allen Guelzo explains:

 There were, Kant said, two things which amazed him – the starry heavens above, which were phenomenal, and the moral law within which belonged to the noumenal.  Never the twain would meet, at least methodologically. Philosophy could not become transcendent.  But, through the gift of the noumenal, it could become transcendental.  Reason, and all of its limitations, half heartedness, and sterility, could retire off the stage and minds could rejoice in knowing the certainty of external phenomena and the intuition of transcendental wonder.[3]

And wonder seems to be what many Americans were searching to find in the 1820s and 1830s.

As with the Great Awakening, the first signs of this transcending that is Transcendentalism appears in the Boston area.  It devolved from Unitarianism, a Protestant sect springing from the days of the Great Awakening, on the Harvard campus.  By the early 1800s, it had become the most prominent religion in the Boston area.

Upon the election of Henry Ware as a professor of divinity as early as 1805 and the ascension of John Thornton Kirkland as president of that college in 1810, a certain natural evolution from Unitarian beliefs took hold, an outgrowth or sort of rebellious thinking that promoted free consciousness and initially valued intellectual reasoning.  

But this view moved on and began to question such Unitarian biases of mildness, sobriety, and cool rationalism.  They, the self-anointed Transcendentalists, sought more intensity.   Parallel to otherwise Unitarian beliefs, they went looking for more visceral spirituality in their beliefs and in the religious experiences that they encountered.[4] These notions took root and led to the eventual founding of the Transcendental Club in Cambridge in 1836 under the leadership of George Putnam, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Frederick Henry Hedge.

The club had female members and of note, Thoreau was also a member. It published a journal, The Dial. But the club and its movement did not enjoy widespread influence during the 1840s.  As a matter of fact, it did not hit its stride until later in the mid-nineteenth century.  At that time, Transcendentalism influenced a growing movement known as the “Mental Sciences.”  Later, it took on the name “New Thought.”  It considered Emerson its intellectual father as well as depending on a long list of influential British writers of those years.[5]

It turns out that these Americans had little direct exposure to European Romantics and most of what they understood or knew of them came to them through the works of Thomas Carlyle and Samuel Taylor Coleridge.  It is through their presentation of Romantic ideas that this blog will next look at and report on their influence.

[1] Henry E. Allison, “Kant, Immanuel,” in The Oxford Companion to Philosophy, edited by Ted Honderich (New York:  Oxford University Press, 1995), 435-438.

[2] Daniel Kahneman, Thinking, Fast and Slow, (New York, NY:  Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2011), 11-12.

[3] Allen C. Guelzo, The American Mind, Part II – a transcript book – (Chantilly, VA:  The Teaching Company/The Great Courses, 2005), 23-24.

[4] Ian Frederick, “The Emergence of Transcendentalism,” American Studies at The University of Virginia, University of Virginia (November 2014), accessed September 13, 2021, Rise of Transcendentalism (virginia.edu) .

[5] “New Thought,” MSN Encarta, Microsoft (November 11, 2002), accessed September 13, 2021, New Thought - MSN Encarta (archive.org) .

[clandestinegardenias]

OH FUCK YES SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS ME

Okay SO.

Kinn was raised in a world where crime is obvs normalized but also to a degree essentialized. He’s been raised to see crime and deviance as necessary parts of a functioning society.

Basically, the mafia is fulfilling a role in society that (as they see it) the government isn’t fulfilling, that the police aren’t fulfilling. It’s a needed evil because it enforces order - in his world, you take away the mafia and society would crumble. They outline the real limitations of social order, the absolute outer bounds of acceptable behavior. They’re the ultimate line of defense.

They create the rules that ACTUALLY get enforced - almost like vigilante justice but way more bureaucratic.

Of utmost importance is the fact that this ENTITLES them — to extreme methods of enforcement, to riches, to power and prestige — because they are the glue holding society together.

All Kinn’s (and his father’s and brother’ and mother’s etc etc) actions are justified by this worldview, on a large scale but also a personal micro level one - see his relationship with Porsche.

More on this in a second.

This is not at all the reality Porsche is living in. He’s the proletariat, and he knows it. In fact, he resents it.

People with more power (who he knows don’t deserve it any more than he does or, more to the point, more than his brother does) have stepped on him his entire life for no legitimate reason except to maintain their own power.

He doesn’t want to serve the bourgeoise, much less be grateful to them for the opportunity. He doesn’t think the mafia serves a cruel but necessary purpose in society — they serve a cruel and detrimental purpose, at best.

And hell if he’s going to play by their rules.

He does, however, know how to game the system and will absolutely do so when he sees a chance to benefit (particularly if he can snub his nose at the system on the sly while doing it).

There’s definitely a tension here between him gaming the system by becoming a great bodyguard and accidentally starting to BUY INTO the system in the process.

Think self-loathing mixed with a cat-like satisfaction at pulling on over on his bosses.

Kinn has begun to poke a wrench into this whole situation.

This is the reason the pier scene is super important to how Porsche’s thinking and feelings towards Kinn shift, because this is where Porsche learns that Kinn is just as much a victim of this system as he is, if not more so. And not only that, but Kinn KNOWS it. He’s self-aware and he doesn’t like the role he plays, not really. He’s trapped, too.

Now Porsche has a potential ally. Someone in this godforsaken place who feels like he does. He saw the release Kinn felt while dancing, the freedom from his role. This is absolutely why he lets Kinn kiss him, and why he starts to feel more loyal to him specifically.

On Kinn’s side, Porsche represents a terrifying and exhilarating series of possibilities.

First and foremost is the Porsche confirms Kinn’s intuition that the mafia doesn’t, in fact, provide a needed service to society. In which case Kinn, his actions, his life and luxury ARE NOT JUSTIFIED.

Further, there is another way. He can go to Porsche’s side — they can escape together. This is, so far, barely even a conscious thought. Poor guy’s so deeply ingrained and constantly reinforced in his worldview, and so much (family, power, validation) rests on that worldview being true. And, that worldview being true means he is also entitled to Porsche — and Porsche should be grateful. Those opposing ways to get to Porsche are fundamentally about Kinn’s struggle with theory of how the world works.

Really, this all to say that the second Kinn shows even a glimmer of fucking class consciousness Porsche is going to be all up on that dick metaphorically AND LITERALLY HEYOOO.

Your local sociologist here with a hot kinnporsche take: Kinn is a functionalist and Porsche is a conflict theorist and that literally explains 80% of their early dynamic.

[pitifulschwein]

sex is so overwhelming. i haven’t even done it yet. but I met someone who I think there’s like a 60% or 70% I'll have sex with eventually. I really like him. I haven’t known him very long yet but I like him. I don’t trust him entirely yet, obviously. I'm nervous to meet him, but excited (we met online but live in the same city). but I've spent the last two years or so obsessing over the idea of having sex. I've been filled with very intense dread over it for so long. I met him and he is the only person I've ever been able to see myself losing my virginity to. I don't even believe in the concept of virginity, I think it’s stupid and made up by men. but it’s just easier to use the term for the sake of this post. but he’s nice and understanding and patient. so far. he’s made it clear to me so far that he understands and values consent. we have a lot of the same or similar kinks. he’s not into feet or piss or whatever. there’s a couple things he’s into that I'm not 100% about but nothing whatsoever that just makes me wanna ghost him. I've told him I want my first time to be more “””””vanilla””””” just more simple and not too intense or kinky. and he seems to be 1000% okay with that. just glad to have me however. I've told him I need to hang out with him a few times before we have sex at all. I have good intuition and I can tell he is genuinely a good person. but however I feel, I'm still going to be as cautious and as safe about everything as I possibly can. the first time I see him, I’m going to tell at least three people (my brother, and two of my girl friends) exactly where we are, every location if we go to a few places idk. my therapist suggested I tell them that I'm going to let them know I'm okay every hour and if I don’t check in, to call the police for me or something like that. he asked if I would be free to come over to his place the day before thanksgiving or on christmas eve. I thought I could do it and even spend the night before thanksgiving, but then I talked to my therapist a couple days later and he made me realize that me and this dude are definitely getting ahead of ourselves. I definitely was just blinded by my own feelings at the time, and not thinking very much about my own safety. so I told him I'd rather meet in public a few times before doing anything like that and he seemed a little upset that I was feeling uneasy about it but still understanding and everything. but maybe by Christmas Eve we will have spent enough time together in public that I'll feel safe going to his place

anyways just the concept of sex is so overwhelming and it’s driving me crazy. I've been obsessing over sex for years and dreading it. but in the last week I've been doing a ton more research about it. the actual act of having sex, protection methods, STDs, abortions if I get pregnant somehow. I always thought/hoped that my first time would be with a woman so that would have been one less thing to worry about (plus I probably wouldn’t have to worry about pain as much lol). and foreplay and making out (i’ve never even kissed anyone yet lmfao im such a pussy ass loser lmfao). I don’t know how to suck dick. I'm scared I'll fart or sneeze or both or something even more embarrassing like what if I just pee in his bed while he’s fucking me???? I think I'd immediately just die from embarrassment lmao. I'm scared of what facial expressions I'll make or how my fat will move around and look so disgusting and I won’t be able to angle it away or pose a certain way like I can in photos. 

I’m terrified I'm going to forget to google and research one thing and it will be the most important thing. I know I need to ask him about whether he’s been tested and if he’s clean and everything but Jesus that’s going to be so awkward and embarrassing. but I know it’ll be so so much worse and like devastating if I find out he gave me something a few weeks later. what I do get sick? or what if I get PREGNANT?????? I know already that if I get pregnant somehow then I'll want an abortion. it’s just a matter of how to do that without my parents ever finding out about it.

I just got out of a serious relationship and have been in a very vulnerable and depressed state of mind. there was a few days we just talked like friends and flirted a tiny bit and it was kind of great and kind of a relief. I haven’t cum nearly as much as he has throughout our online intimate relationship so. and I started taking my antidepressants again and on top of the breakup and my depression/stress levels/anxiety being out of control lately, I haven’t really been in the mood anyways. so it was nice tbh. I love talking to him anyways. he seems to like talking to me too, just normally. he told me just talking to me in a normal platonic way turns him on still (I don’t think he would have said that if he thought it would make me uncomfortable) so win/win I guess. but then I tried to be all seggsy again and it didn't work out and I got kind of panicky and oof and he suggested we not talk for a little while so I can have time by myself to process things and actually start feeling better. in the moment I felt more mad and sad and annoyed at him for not wanting to talk to me for a while but now I realize that was actually a really nice fucking thing to do for me. he seems to really care about me and my mental wellbeing and safety and all that. so. that’s nice.

I'm just terrified of getting pregnant or getting an STD. those are my biggest fears about losing my virginity, but I'm also scared about so many little things. idk how to do anything. what if the way I make out is so gross? and he hates it? or I'm just boring as fuck during foreplay or actual sex. idk idk idk. it’s just a lot. but I'm doing my research and trying to take every single possible precaution and be as smart about it all as possible. 

[iceddecafcaramel]

07/02/2020

Hello world,

I know I haven’t written in a bit, and I’m glad I’m not rushing on here because something bad happened again and I need a way to escape. I just wanted to write about something I cared about and take a break from writing papers for school; mostly just an update for myself to look back on in the future. 

Everything’s going as well as it could go. It’s hard sometimes because I know that he isn’t as considerate of a person as me but I try to be patient and understand his thought process. One of my best friends went on a first date with a girl and he was so SO, happy afterwards. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier. He talked about her in the way that corny romantic movies presents love at first sight. But I knew exactly what he was going through because that was how I felt for D when I first met him. I knew I was in love with him from the moment we said hi, and the moment he shook my hand. I will always remember giggling uncontrollably afterwards with the friend who introduced us. It’s the reason why I believe in love at first sight, because I’ve literally felt it, and have known in my intuition. I know that my best friend and this lucky girl is going to end up together, and I couldn’t be happier for him. I just wish that that was how my relationship was. I miss getting butterflies in my stomach, I miss kissing someone so passionately, and I miss enjoying the silence with someone because I was so content just to be with them. I think I’m almost in love with my person, but I don’t really know for sure, because I’ve never felt as confused as I do now. We do tiny pecks of kisses all the time, and I’ve never gotten the butterflies with him, except for the night we texted all day before meeting up. Maybe I’m just a really good texter and I don’t live up to it in person. I don’t really care that I don’t because I’m finally starting to be okay being me, and realize that there’s nothing wrong with me. With H, I know I’m dating to grow. I still look at him at night and appreciate how gorgeous he is, both looks and personality wise. As much as I make him sound like an emotionally abusive dick, he is trying. He is trying to be better for me and he’s incredibly intelligent. I just wished we were more compatible. You can’t force two puzzle pieces to connect perfectly if they aren’t for each other. I don’t think any other analogy explains that better than how we are. 

[rebrabeht-blog]

35-40 thank u if u will

34. How do they understand the world–what kind of worldview and thought processes do they have? Why?

Jeremiah has always been extremely aware of how society behaves around him and for two good reasons: 1) his race and 2) his mutation. It’s 2017, this has been one of the most politically charged years he’s ever experienced. Prior to all this shit, he was reasonably defensive, carefully listening to how people spoke to him or acted around him so he could gauge if he could offer any input. But now it feels like an electric fence barring him from having a voice. He feels unsafe during certain discussions now and it’s forced him to retreat into a protective shell. People can be monsters and Jeremiah isn’t stupid.

35. How and why do they internalize knowledge? What effect has that had on them?

He either teaches it back or creates plausible scenarios that will spark discussion. Often when he’s witnessed something traumatic (that happens when you volunteer for his kind of work) he proposes a hypothetical to someone he trusts (”I heard this”, “I read someone did this”, etc.) and then uses their feedback to broaden his scope of understanding. It’s made him very dependent on others to gauge the severity of some situations and it’s a key part of the way he processes traumatic events.

36. How much do they rely on their minds and intellect, versus other approaches like relying on instinct, intuition, faith and spirituality, or emotions? What is their opinion on this?

Talking to the white collar side of society is its own language mostly made up of know-how in negotiation and pragmatism and weird sort of alpha-big-dog-dick-swinging. So Jeremiah’s gotta be sharp. His instincts are fine but his found it’s sort of a 60-40 success rate. He’s taken years off his life just pouring over conversational tactics and etiquette training in order to overcome what he doesn’t innately have. Faith and spirituality haven’t played any part in his behavior for decades but he has his moments of weakness where he wishes there was some divine creator who could help his brothers and sisters--- and himself. 

37. Have they had any special education or training that colors their means of learning about or understanding the world? Conversely, do they lack some kind of education considered essential in their world? What kind of impact has this addition or lack had on them?

Most of what he knows about interacting with people who are “above” him (read: the white collar guys in #36) is self-taught. He’s really targeted specifics in diplomacy and public speaking. These help him take down the ugly guys while also keeping the nice guys on his side with the power of persuasion and charisma alone. He has connections now that he didn’t have 20 years ago when he was trying his hand at politics.

38. Is there anything they wish they could change about their worldview or thought processes? What, and why?

He wishes he could go back to the way he thought as a teenager. He wishes he could be ignorant again because viewing everyone around you as an enemy carves a huge hole in you. As a kid, everyone was given the benefit of the doubt that they would be a good person. People ruined that for him so many times that he couldn’t healthily keep thinking that way. So now he’s a jaded nihilist and kind of ugly about the world but actively trying to work his way into educated optimism.

39. What sort of questions or thoughts recur in their lives, either specifically or as a theme? Why are these never answered, or answered permanently to their satisfaction?

He’s constantly wondering if what he does is worth it without any kind of reward. If what he’s doing is making any lasting impact at all. It’s a weird sort of fugue state, kind of tottering back and forth between feeling like a superhero and then feeling grossly unnoticed and under-appreciated. He saves all these mutant lives at the sacrifice of his mental and physical health— and it’s been a long time since he heard a thank you. It weighs him down, giving so much of himself and getting nothing in return. There’s nothing to replace what Jeremiah gives away.

40. What do they wonder about? What sparks their curiosity and imagination, and why? How is this expressed, if it is?

The future seems unclear to Jeremiah. He doesn’t know where he’ll be, what he’ll be doing, if he’ll be alive to do anything at all. On less of a sadboy note, he’s obviously interested in creativity. Any forms of art. Obviously hair tops the list. But the fascination with the arts is really what drives him to form new relationships, especially with those who are seem to lead more eccentric and creative lives. He tends to throw himself headfirst into anything that is considered a creative outlet. You name it and he’s dipped his fingers in it.

@bloodsnaps​ : character development questions