#There's a difference between healthy negativity as there is toxic negativity

[the1northlanderprincess]

It has become apparent that we're in that typical late season stage of panic and/or negativity surrounding our somewhat unique ship. I don't want to see us or this tag spiral so out of control that it causes major divisiveness. I know we've seen a "breakup" already before the feelings were revealed to be subtly romantic, but we're just about to get into the real meat of it. I want us to be excited.

Okay, now, I want to address the subject of the whole "Haladriel is toxic" thing, which @deus-sema discussed in her post. Are they? Sure, to an extent. I mean, the dude impersonated her brother AND tried to brush it off like he wasn't. And the recent obsession on his end certainly isn't healthy. But I've seen so much worse. I think for the majority of their interactions, though, has been positive. There was a lot of trust, happiness, and support. You had some small arguments sprinkled in, but they were pushing one another to try to make the other better. You need that in a relationship.

If anything, it's just a plain ol' forbidden romance; they're haunted, as others have iterated. There is no way they can be together in a balanced, honest manner, and they can't handle it. Sauron and Galadriel are both highly intellectual immortals, above common Men. Although, you could argue that they each display human characteristics from time to time (Sauron especially). However, you can also argue that there is very much a nature vs. nurture aspect present. It's safe to guess that Galadriel grew up in a loving environment, whereas Sauron was likely surrounded by cruelty and harsh discipline. He probably knew nothing of what real love was like.

However, after recently rewatching season 1 Haladriel for the first time, I was able to view their scenes in a different light. The finale, in particular, had my attention. Before the confrontation, Halbrand tells Gal how much it meant to him that she stuck up for him and empowered him. He was so grateful, he wanted to do the same for her (and I think that was genuine). He got a glimpse of true friendship and compassion, and he wanted to revel in it...and her.

That brings me to the hand-wringing over the finale, about whether or not it's going to be a redux of 1x08. I paid special attention to the raft scene. After they were arguing over semantics and the like, it came down to them, hilariously, screaming at each other and Sauron disappearing. In all honesty, not a lot of stuff happened between them. That needs to change. The two have exchanged how they feel around one another, but they really need to address the hurt and why it hurts.

If that beautiful shot of Dark Prince Halbrand is anything to go by, I conclude that when their swordfight ends, they will come to some sort of complex, uneasy truce, beginning with Gal showing Annatar the ring.

[celtrist]

It's okay to be emotional over a ship.

It's okay to be emotional over a ship. It's okay to be emotional over characters. It's okay to share grievances over a ship as much as it's okay to gush over a ship. It's okay to feel so overwhelmingly negatively over a ship just as much as it's okay to feel so overwhelmingly positive.

While it's always going to be better to focus on positives, it can also be just as good to let out any negatives you might have about something rather than bottling it in and, for some, feeling alone in your thoughts about it.

It is so, so, SO OKAY to be so heavy in emotions concerning a ship whether negative or positive because it means you're invested in the characters and their relationships. When spaces seem to allow only positivity when some people might have some negative thoughts on a ship, it really negates any conversations about it and even understanding sides of why someone may or may not ship something.

While understandable, there is a double standard between being negative and positive about ships (or portrayal of characters). If you feel overwhelmingly negative about something, "you need to go touch grass". If you feel overwhelmingly positive about something, "go at it queen". I would personally argue we all need to touch grass.

It is NOT okay to harass others. It is NOT okay to let your emotions dictate that you should attack somebody for LIKING a certain ship or DISLIKING a certain ship. Your emotions DO NOT dictate how OTHERS should feel.

It is okay to be negative about a character or ship as much as it's okay to be positive about them. Neither side of being for or against a ship is more virtuous than the others. It's okay to have some fucking emotions regardless if their positive or not, because it means you CARE about the media and the characters in it.

No, you should not revolve your whole online experience in negativity. Find positive in things you DO enjoy. But to brush off people who vehemently might dislike a character or ship as "losers with no lives" is to disregard a person's emotions on something. And if you do wanna think that mindset, congrats, people who obsessively love a character or ship are just the same by your logic. Obsession is obsession, regardless if it's negative or positive.

TL;DR, If it's okay to be overwhelmingly positive in liking something like a ship or character, it should be just as okay to be negative in disliking something like a ship or character. Just as long as it's not the ONLY thing you focus on and no one is actively being bullied, attacked, or harassed about it. And of course, either way, positive or negative, it is all fiction, and a real person should not be attacked or harassed for it. And if you don't want to indulge in negativity you might have, 100% valid. Both sides always need to take a step back into reality.

[coulsonlives]

Ah yes I love opening tumblr and seeing body weight discourse on a stock photo blog, very nice /s

[khruschevshoe]

Three Guys On A Sofa: Try Guys, Watcher, Values, and Cognitive Dissonance

Listen, as someone who has no real emotional investment in Watcher but all the emotional investment in the last "three guys on the sofa" internet scandal (Try Guys were MY long-standing Buzzfeed emotional support dude-group), what has kind of amazed me is the difference in reaction to the two scandals.

Watcher's video was built up for a week as a positive announcement but immediately cratered their reputation, revealed the cracks in their handling of business/lack of forethought in ALL THREE FOUNDERS, and, thanks to them not responding quickly to fan reactions, is now cementing their negative perception in a way they might never recover from.

On the other hand, the Try Guys' video was possibly one of the best apology videos/reactions to scandal I've ever seen. It seemed like a quick response to the breaking scandal but was well-thought out (and as was discussed in podcasts, had been extensively thought-out/planned for at least a month, with all three of the remaining Try Guys heavily invested in the investigation/handling of the problem), reinforced audience sympathies because the problem had been dealt with, and most importantly reinforced the idea that the audience's faith in the remaining Try Guys was warranted.

The Watcher video revealed the massive gap between the ideals that the Watcher Guys (all three of them) had purported to hold for years (authenticity, "eat the rich," a strong personal/parasocial connection to their audience) and what was being executed in practice, while the Try Guys' video showed that the ideals that Keith, Eugene, and Zach had held (non-toxic masculinity, respect for women, healthy working environments, a strong passion/belief in supporting their staff) still seemed as genuine as can be.

TLDR; I think that the Try Guys were able to recover from the Ned of it all in a way that Watcher won't be able to because while their apology video showed quick action and reinforced/proved that they stood by the same values they'd always had, Watcher's video and fan response has only shown that they don't seem to hold the values THEY preach, fundamentally betraying their audience.

[barbies1shots]

You dont have to write it if you dont want to buttt can we have reader getting revenge on toxic!sukuna THAT MAN NEEDS TO PAYYY🤬

just imagine her cheating back and then finally running away forever🤭

YESS !! we finally need a break from toxic!sukuna .

toxic!sukuna part1 toxic!sukuna part2

☆ - TOXIC themes , cheating , lying , mentions of family , praise , name calling

fedup!reader who blocks Sukuna on all media.

fedup!reader who goes to the police and files a restraining order on him.

fedup!reader who breaks down as she figures out what happened with the videos and pictures he took.

fedup!reader who clears up all the drama between her and Sukuna, claiming that everything was not consented to and most of it was abuse.

fedup!reader who goes out to try and refresh herself, wanting to start a new life away from the negative people.

fedup!reader who meets a nice man, who offers to help her move.

fedup!reader who moved different states to get away from him.

fedup!reader who now takes self defense lessions and now is at the top of her class.

fedup!reader who goes to a dinner date with her new man and figures out that a healthy relationship is what she needs.

fedup!reader who smiles and laughs in appreciation as her new man gave her jewelry as a gift.

fedup!reader who now is riding that man, making him whimper out 'pleases' and 'thank yous'

fedup!reader who smiles happily when she looks at her new man, (your fav).

fedup!reader who crys out when that man fucks her dumb, who fucks her so lovingly that shes numb from the inside out.

fedup!reader who clings onto her new man as he finishes inside of her, mumbling about how good she is.

fedup!reader who looks in the mirror and sees Sukuna standing behind her.

fedup!reader who screams to loudly and darts to the door before Sukuna can get a chance to get his hands on her.

fedup!reader who cries as she calls the cops when she hears him running after her.

fedup!reader who runs to a stop before turning on her heal before punching that man straight in his throat, having him crumbled at her feet.

fedup!reader who saw Sukuna choke on air as his throat seemed to be closing in.

"Didnt i fucking tell you to leave me alone?! I want nothing to do with you Sukuna! Youve hurt me in ways unimaginable and im done! im done with you, im done with your nasty ass head, im done with the way you try to claim me like a damn pig!"

fedup!reader who stares Sukuna straight in his eye as his hands are cuffed behind his back.

fedup!reader who flips her middle finger up at him as hes being driven away in a cop car.

fedup!reader who eventually breaks down crying as the past traumatic moments and adrenaline finally catch up to her.

fedup!reader who looks up and sees her man talk to her in a calm voice and pulling her into his chest.

"look at me, baby. i swear i wont ever leave you, i will make sure you are so happy that it will be sickening. i love you so much, baby, you can never compare. let me hold you, let me in and let me help heal you. i promise to be there at your lowest, at your highest. trust me to help pick yourself back and put yourself back on the right track. i will be by your side."

fedup!reader who burns every single letter sent out to her from Sukuna.

fedup!reader who, then months later, is now in therapy and is going so much better now.

fedup!reader whos therapist told her to make peace with the one thing thats making her have anxiety ridden episodes.

fedup!reader who vists the prison Sukuna is locked in.

"Miss me baby?"

fedup!reader whos eyes well up in tears as she explans to him everything he did wrong.

fedup!reader who stares at Sukuna with hatred as he screams in her face behind the glass.

"you cant lie, you bitch! you were begging me to let you cum! you were begging to let me fuck that pussy! you were begging me to hug and love on you! ive told you, you can escape from me, baby! give me a chance, ill make you love all again!"

fedup!reader who walks out the room with Sukuna yelling at her back that she loved everything he did.

fedup!reader who walks outside and takes a deep breathe before getting in the car and kissing (your fav) on the cheek with a nice smile.

fedup!reader who helps other women in similar situations and now has gotten a part of her life back.

fedup!reader who now has gotten away and is the most happy she will ever be away from Sukuna.

fedup!reader who posts on social media her family, two boys and a kitten, hoping Sukuna will see it when he gets out.

fedup!reader who laughs as she knows Sukuna isnt shit anymore.

ahhhhh getting revenge on Sukuna , ik it wasnt violent but if you want it violent, TELL ME !!

-Aizawas BARB !

[allaboutthemoonlight]

Understanding the Difference Between Hard Work and Workaholism, and Self-Care Strategies for Avoiding Burnout

Hi friends,

In today’s post, I want to talk about the idea of hard-work vs workaholism and the resulting consequence of burnout. It’s a longer post today because I believe this is something that many people are dealing with, especially in this space.

In the self-improvement and personal development bubble, there’s a constant culture of ambition and striving for improvement. While the intention behind this can be rewarding, it can sometimes fall into toxic territory with constant encouragement of and sentiments such as “just work harder” or “you‘re not disciplined enough”, often leading people to exhaust and overwork themselves.

Due to this, I'd like to discuss the significance of distinguishing between hard work and workaholism — both for productivity and well-being. While hard work can indeed lead to success and fulfillment, workaholism can result in burnout and physical and mental health issues. Recognizing the distinction between these two and equipping oneself with self-care strategies is essential for leading a balanced, healthy life.

What is hard work?

Hard work can vary from person to person, and it’s the same for everyone. Generally, hard work can be described as dedicated and focused effort towards achieving a specific goal. This can mean anything from daily runs to train for a marathon to watching numerous youtube tutorials to learn how to code.

The point here is that, although hard work involves a certain level of persistence, discipline, and strong work ethic, there’s often rewarding outcomes as you know you’re making progress towards something you want to achieve.

Understanding if you’re a hard worker or someone suffering from workaholism dictates a high level of self-reflection and introspection. In my experience, hard workers are those who:

Have a clear understanding of what they want to achieve

Are action oriented and know the purpose behind their efforts

Have the ability to achieve a work/life balance

Are either intrinsically motivated and have a high level of identified motivation

Maintain an internal locus of control

Know when to take breaks

Being a hard worker is a significant skill, one that can lead to personal development, growth, and multiple career opportunities, these are facts that can’t be denied. However, in our current environment where an individuals worth is often determined by their accomplishments and successes, the line between working hard and being a workaholic has been blurred.

Understanding workaholism

Now that we’ve talked about what exactly makes a hard-worker, I want to uncover the other reality: workaholism.

Workaholism is an uncontrollable and compulsive need to work constantly. It comes from feelings of from anxiety, perfectionism, or a desire to escape personal issues. This includes:

Obsessively thinking about work

Struggling to relax or unwind outside of work

Ignoring personal relationships and self-care

Feeling physically drained with fatigue and insomnia

Multiple studies have explored the mental and physical impacts of workaholism, revealing impacts such as high levels of chronic stress, anxiety, depression, fatigue, cardiovascular issues, among others. It’s truly an exhaustive list of consequences, all of which can lead to burnout and emotional exhaustion. Beyond mental and physical health risks, the effects of workaholism can include professional issues. It’s ironic that overworking oneself can have a negative impact on your career, yet there’s a higher likelihood of decreased job performance and strained professional relationships as a result.

I think Jordan Peterson said it best: “You don’t want to do so much work that the amount of you do interferes with the amount of work you could still do”.

Here are some of the key differences between hard work and workaholism to keep in mind:

Purpose and Motivation: Hard work is driven by intentional goals and motivation, while workaholism tends to be more compulsive.

Work-Life Balance: Hard workers manage to balance their professional and personal lives, while workaholics often neglect their personal life and self-care.

Sustainability: Hard work is sustainable over time with breaks for rest and recovery, whereas workaholism leads to burnout due to its unsustainable nature.

Control Over Work: Hard workers can regulate their work habits and take breaks when needed, while workaholics often feel out of control and struggle to stop working.

Stress Levels: Hard work can be stressful but usually within healthy limits, while workaholism leads to chronic stress and health problems.

What is burnout and how can we prevent it

With all that being said, I want to move on to clearly defining burnout and how we can avoid it. Burnout is a work-related state of exhaustion where you feel extreme fatigue, have a hard time concentrating, suffer from emotional dysregulation and poor cognitive function, and mentally distance yourself from the people around you.

Burnout doesn't happen all at once; it's a gradual process that builds up over time, often linked to workaholism. When you’re constantly in a mental state of go-go-go or feel the need to work excessively, you’ll start feeling stressed out from trying to meet all these demands. Over time, if you don’t find ways to take breaks and rest to recharge, you’ll lose energy and find yourself in a state of burnout.

This all happens because burnout leads to emotional exhaustion, detachment from work and others in your life, and a decreased sense of personal accomplishment and motivation.

So how can we prevent this?

There are 5 domains in our lives that we can pay more attention to for preventing burnout: physical, mental/emotional, social, work, and personal/leisure.

Physical Well-being:

Find a form of physical activity you enjoy and do it regularly

Take short breaks during work sessions to stretch and move around

Maintain a balanced diet to sustain energy levels

Get enough each night to support brain function during the day

Mental and Emotional Well-being:

Practice mindfulness techniques and meditation to reduce stress

Practice gratitude daily to adopt a positive mindset

Use deep breathing exercises to calm your mind and body.

Social Support and Relationships:

Seek help when needed through therapy, counseling, or support groups

Make time to connect with family and friends outside of work

Set boundaries for maintaining balance by defining working hours and learn to say no

Workplace Strategies:

Try to opt for projects or tasks in your work that align with personal goals and preferences

Try to schedule meetings to obtain feedback from your higher ups so that you have clear measures on your performance can identity areas for improvement

Find ways to make your work fun to sustain motivation and satisfaction in your work

Leisure and Relaxation:

Schedule leisure activities throughout your day to recharge

Dedicate time to hobbies and interests outside of work

Spend time in nature to connect with the environment and reduce mental fatigue

Thank’s for tuning in.

As always,

L <3

[nenelonomh]

detoxification and behavioural addiction

a detox, short for detoxification, refers to the process of removing toxic substances from the body. medically, detoxing is an essential step in addiction recovery. it helps individuals safely eliminate toxic and addictive substances from their bodies while managing withdrawal symptoms. it’s crucial for those with physical and psychological signs of substance dependence.

i believe, personally, that everyone has a 'drug of choice'. this isn't necessarily a substance but can be a hobby or activity. even a person. addictive behaviour arises from a desire to escape an undesirable reality through fantasy living. daydreams about a better life can drive these behaviours.

a negative example of a 'drug of choice' could be excessive eating. it's a compulsive behaviour and a coping mechanism for some individuals. some studies suggest that the brain's reward pathways involved in addiction may also play a role in binge eating.

a positive example of a 'drug of choice' is someone who dances, compulsively and as a coping mechanism. this person may use dance as an outlet - to express themself. it allows them to focus on the present moment and can reduce stress and anxiety.

obviously, this behaviour becomes an issue when it is dangerous, and excessive. this is a reason to detox.

too often, the word 'detox' is thrown around online, without many people understanding what the process actually is.

your body naturally eliminates toxins through organs like the liver, kidneys, digestive system, skin, and lungs. no special diets or expensive supplements are required for this process. detox diets often include laxatives, diuretics, teas, and other products. however, evidence doesn’t support their effectiveness for toxin elimination or sustainable weight loss. your healthy organs already handle detoxification efficiently.

detox is only the initial step towards recovery. it's super important to seek professional help if needed, find people to talk to, understand your vulnerabilities and triggers, and set boundaries.

the key is to find a healthy outlet, your 'drug of choice'.

finding a healthy outlet involves discovering activities that nourish your well-being and provide positive emotional release. consider your interests, passions, and what brings you joy. reflect on past experiences - what activities made you feel fulfilled.

some ideas for different activities include:

running

dancing

playing music

gardening

yoga

cooking

pay attention to how different activities make you feel. choose something that energizes you rather than drains you. mix physical, mental, and social outlets. avoid overcommitting - balance is key.

something to be aware of is the mind-body connection. it's the intricate interplay between our mental and physical health. it recognizes that our thoughts, emotions, and behaviours significantly impact our overall well-being.

for further reading:

how the mind-body connection works | nick morgan ph.d. - psychology today

narrowing down the choices: binge eating and food obsession | claire wilcox m.d. - psychology today

drug of choice | the free medical dictionary by farlex

can you become addicted to a person | courtney telloian - psychcentral

is addiction a disease? | psychology today

understanding how hobbies can become addictions | hector badosa - hobbies blogs

is your hobby actually an addiction? 5 signs you have a behavioral addiction | ashwood recovery at northpoint

the role of hobbies and interests in addiction recovery | magnified health systems

can you be addicted to a person? | ariane resnick, cnc - verywellmind

the difference between an obsession and an addiction | Christine hammond, ms, lmhc - psychcentral

~~

thank you for reading! this post is more of a collection of ideas that i wanted to share; to get out.

if you have any questions, send an ask! be sure to check out the further reading links!

❤️nene

[iamnmbr3]

'why do you ship drarry, malfoy bullied him'

malfoy should have been redeemed and they are absolutely OBSESSED with each other. It might as well be romantic

And ppl seem pretty sensible. If a bit too horny

I have thoughts on this. Because the thing is, no one should feel like they need a reason to dislike a ship or to not engage with it. They can have a reason. But it's also just fine to...not vibe with something. That's ok too. There's content and ships that make me super uncomfortable or that just plain dislike. Sometimes for clear specific reasons and sometimes just...because. Sometimes to the point that I hate even scrolling past it on ao3. And that's all ok. What's not ok is harassing other people over or it dictating what other people like or engage with. Wish more people remembered that. It would make fandom so much nicer if people could all do that.

And yeah. I feel like Draco's story needed more closure. I mean, canonically he does get a redemption arc - he changes his views and becomes a better person - but JKR somehow both wrote that and also doesn't acknowledge the implications. Also, after being such a central character and being literally the reason Harry wins his duel against Voldemort it feels weird for him to not at least have a final conversation with Draco where he gives his wand back etc. (And then they fall in love and get married epilogue whom?!)

Also I am more than on board with super dark highly toxic enemies to lovers ships. They aren't for everyone but I like them. To me personally though, drarry doesn't really fall into that category, at least as it is presented in canon. What Harry and Draco have to me feels like a rivalry - a very intense, very hostile one (I mean they do literally end up as soldiers on opposite sides of a war), but a rivalry nonetheless. And there is obviously a grey area between bullying and rivalry. My point is not to dismiss all the ways Harry and Draco have hurt each other. But merely to point out that to me the dynamic feels very different than shipping Snape and Sirius for example, or Draco and Ron for that matter, where it feels like there's more of a clear past bully & victim dynamic. This is not a reason to ship or not to ship any of these ships. To each their own. It's merely a commentary on how I tend to view drarry.

As to the last point. I don't think people can really be "too horny." Sex and sexual desire are just as valid to explore or depict in fiction/art and just as valid a reason to create fiction/art as any other reason. Generally speaking I find that the best and most creative and diverse fandom environments that lead to the greatest quality and diversity of content are the ones where people who want to be 'horny on main TM' in their creative endeavors can be without fear of any type of negative repercussion. That's not to say everyone has to create, enjoy or even engage with that type of content. But its presence is usually a sign of a healthy fandom ecosystem.

[devildevotee]

okay rant ahead but the thing about lucifer is he's different to different people. lucifer is incredibly INCREDIBLY complex, and one experience is never going to capture the entirety of him and his personality or energy.

some people will say he's full of love and warmth, and they're right! he is! he is nurturing, and gentle, and sweet and calming.

some people will say he's full of tough love and harsher lessons, perhaps even anger, and they're right too! he's fully capable of showing that as well.

people saying that lucifer can be angry or sad or display non-soft emotions is not saying he's not beginner friendly or to deter people from working with him OR to say they should be worried. lucifer is COMPLEX, and between all his worshippers he's going to display the whole array of emotions. he is not one-dimensional.

and this includes anger or negative emotions. to immediately link any healthy emotion with toxicity or villainising or maybe even abusive undertones does a disservice not only to lucifer, but to people who have reason to feel or want to connect with these emotions. to the abuse survivors who connect with lucifer over this anger, to the people who have been made homeless by their family or friends, to the people who have been hurt or hurt repeatedly -- lucifer being a being of anger can be a comfort, because it gives us something to hold on to; to feel valid about our pain and injustices. it also gives us a safe place to process these emotions, in the arms of a spirit/demon/deity who will allow us to explore them in a safe way.

just something to think about. i've seen people show concern or worry over others displaying lucifer as this angry harsh being, and i just want to shed a bit of light onto it. it's not wrong, but you're not wrong either for seeing him as a comforting and gentle spirit/deity/demon. these two ways of viewing him can absolutely coexist.

[rainytypology]

Enneagram system

A rewrite/more in depth post of the Enneagram system compared to my last post on it. Not an expert. May change later.

If you like kpop and typology, check out my blog. I do type analysis on idols and typology notes.

___

What is Enneagram?

I mainly took notes from Riso Hudson theory.

A typology system that categorizes personalities into 9 different types. Each type is numbered from 1 - 9.

Each type has a desire and fear that motivates their actions in life.

Core and Wings

Core: Our main type. It is the foundation of our personality and does not change.

Wing: Acts as a complement to our core. Wing can be one of the two types that sit beside core type. E.g a core 2 can have a 1 wing (2w1) or 3 wing (2w3). But is not necessary to use since wings can change and/or can be balanced.

Levels of Development

Summary of healthy - unhealthy levels of personality

- Healthy levels -

Level 1: Liberation

Let go of self image so we are free to express ourselves however we want. Self acceptance of all traits.

Level 2: Pyschological Capacity

Begin to identify with positive qualities in our personalities and learn to improve ourselves with them.

Level 3: Social Value

Still strongly identify with our set self image and make effort to maintain image. Want to share our good talents and abilities to make a positive effect on self and others.

- Average levels -

Level 4: Imbalance/Social roles

Idealization of self image; have a major focus on either good or bad qualities, no in between. Fear is an obstacle here.

Level 5: Interpersonal Control

Insist on self image being accepted by others, which can cause conflict. Can lead to controlling and manipulation.

Level 6: Overcompensation

Overcompensate due to underlying negative feelings. Desperate for others' acceptance.

- Unhealthy levels -

Level 7: Violation

Desperation for acceptance leads to violation of one's self and others. Serious conflict can occur. May victimize themselves to excuse offensive actions.

Level 8: Obsession and Compulsion

May be overly obsessed with an image of who they want to be. Deceives others

Level 9: Pathological Destructiveness

Most unhealthy state, display very toxic traits and behaviours, may have mental breakdown

Disintegration vs Integration

Or basically Stress vs Growth

Disintegration: When under heavy amounts of stress, a type will go into their disintegration type. They will pick up the negative traits of that type and act like the unhealthy version of it.

Integration: When maturing/developing positively, a type will go their integration type. They will pick up the positive traits of that type and improve their character.

___

* I will only give short descriptions for the triads. I will explain more in depth in individual posts.*

Centers of Intelligence

There are 3 centers of intelligence. Each center shows how and why we solve issues in life.

Gut/Instinct/Anger (types 1, 8, 9)

Gut center focuses on reacting and taking action immediately. This triad has an issue with control and anger.

1: Often perfectionists who repress their anger in order to remain morally good. They see their anger in a negative light.

8: The most open and comfortable with their anger. Uses it to assert boundaries, especially since this type fears vulnerability.

9: Often a passive type that dismisses or downplays their anger. They fear conflict and may worry being more assertive will cause a negative effect on themselves and others.

Heart/Image/Shame (types 2, 3, 4)

Heart center focuses on self identity and connections. This triad wants love and recognition and do what they believe is best to get that. They struggle with self worth.

2: They want to be needed and helpful to others. Pride themselves on being of service. Wants to receive love and to give love.

3: The most image oriented type. They always try to show their best selves and best efforts in order to seem admirable. Fears being worthless.

4: Wants to create a unique image for themselves, believes being boring will make them unloveable.

Head/Thinking/Fear (types 5, 6, 7)

Head center focuses on ideas, making rational decisions, and gathering info. This triad deals with fear and uncertainty.

5: The most internalized head type. 5's want to gather as much knowledge and resources as possible in order to stay secure and independent.

6: Quite an anxious type who seeks security through relations with others.

7: This type fears pain and suffering and seek out experiences in order to avoid negativity.

___

Other triads

- Harmonic Triads -

How types handle conflict, coping mechanism

Reactive (4, 6, 8)

Reactive types are not afraid to show and speak about their true feelings. They may seem "dramatic" in a way.

4: Melodramatic and self absorbed in negative feelings, drowns in intensity

6: Will argue, stick up for the right thing, moody, anxious

8: Big and loud reactions, can be very fiery

Positive (2, 7, 9)

Positive types dislike negativity and conflict and have their own ways of avoiding such tension. Optimistic during hard times.

2: Actively tries to be a good and kind person, only tries to focus on the good aspects of people

7: Seeks out fun opportunities to make their life exciting (basically distraction)

9: Values harmony and peace, will not risk any type of action that will disturb these values

Competency (1, 3, 5)

Competent types are often perfectionists who want to show their best selves. Objective and rational.

1: Strives to be correct and right, wants to be precise in what they do

3: Represses softer emotions to keep up a certain image, thrives with work/passions so they can be the best at what they do

5: Detached from feelings to remain logical and objective, knowledge seeking

- Hornevian Triads -

Relationships with others, how they get what they want

Assertive (3, 7, 8)

Assertive types go against people to get what they want. Do not back down easily, can seem aggressive and forceful.

3: Pushes through obstacles for achievements, goal oriented

7: Asserts their right to have fun, refuse to be restricted

8: Asserts power and strength, places boundaries

Withdrawn (4, 5, 9)

Withdrawn types are very internalized and do not show their needs openly. Deals with things alone.

4: Feels something is wrong with them internally, feels misunderstood

5: Detached from others as to not drain their own energy, will figure it out themselves

9: Introspective, lets life happen

Compliant (1, 2, 6)

Compliant work with people to get what they want. Builds relationships for security, wants to be helpful to others.

1: Doing the right thing instead of one's own wants

2: Focus on other's needs more instead of self

6: Tries to build a safe and secure environment by getting ppl to work together

- Object Relations -

How we are affected by others, our own affect on others, how we react to personal wounds

Attachment (3, 6, 9)

Seek out bonds and companionships for particular reasons. Individuality vs adaptation.

3: Changes their image to suit whoever they are with in order to meet expectations

6: Creates support systems to help with their self doubt and indecisiveness

9: Adapts to the energy of the environment to keep harmony

Frustration (1, 4, 7)

Triad gets frustrated when their needs aren't met.

1: Has a need to improve every little imperfection they find

4: Dislikes shallowness, longs for depth and complexity

7: Not enjoying experiences, not feeling fulfilled

Rejection (2, 5, 8)

Their own needs feel unimportant to others, so they reject their own needs as well.

2: Rejects the need to receive love and guidance, instead focuses on connecting with others and helping them.

5: Ignores and minimizes all their needs, offers knowledge and expertise in some hope of being acknowledged for their intelligence.

8: Rejects by being never putting their guard down, wanting to appear strong and as the protector of others.

___

Subtypes

Claudio Naranjo theory

There are three subtypes/instinctual variants that show our drive in life. There are 27 different subtypes in total.

Self Preservation (Sp)

Focuses on physical safety and security. Our physical health, financial security, obligations, and comforts.

Sexual/One - on - one (Sx)

Wants intensity and deep connections, one on one relationships are preferred.

Social (So)

Prefers to be in a community, wants to create good connections and bonds with others. Socially aware, focus on group goals and contributions.

___

Tritype

Katherine Fauvre theory

A minor but still interesting piece of Enneagram. Tritype is formed of your 3 dominant types from each center. The first number will always be your core, followed by your other 2 dominant types.

E.g 369. 3 = core, heart. 6 = head. 9 = gut.

___

Enneagram notes

___

Side blog:

Kpop astrology @rainy-astrology

Kpop fanarts @rainy-artworks

[strayheartless]

The thing about Vanipliku is, I don't hate it. I just don't ship it in the same way I ship Soriku.

The difference (for me) between the two is that while Soriku may not always do the healthy thing when it comes to eachother, They always have the others best interests at heart and its obvious that they are willing to work at a healthy relationship.

Vanipliku by comparison are like Anti-Soriku. not in the sense that they are evil Sora and Riku, but in the sense that they do not have the same intentions towards eachother as the hero's of light have. Repliku, to a certain extent is Riku at his most vulnrable and manipulated, but also at his most angry. He is Riku at his most likely to lash out at Sora. Even if he is no longer the same as Riku, he is still a snapshot in time of an angry child who (if we follow Sorkiu Fanon rather than Canon) is still upset that he is pining over his best friend.

Vanitas isn't Sora, hes not even Ventus. He looks like Sora, he almost sounds like Sora, but he's not Sora. There is no part of him that thinks or acts of cares like Sora does. He was the "piece of Ventus that was taken away" while Sora was the "piece ventus needed to be whole" but they are different pieces of a bigger whole. Vanitas is negativity, he has been manipulated and abused his entire exsistance and if you read the Kingdom hearts character files you find out his exsistance is just pain and bitterness. he is literally the antithisis of light. Does this make his inherently evil? no, but it does make him more prone to self distructive behaviour.

I will be the first to say Vanitas' Villan credentials are of the same ilk as someone like Sephiroths, but like Sephiroth he is a product of what other people make him. He is obsessive and cruel, he loves the same way he hurts and that doesn't breed healthy relationships.

To me Vanipliku is one of those relationships like SephGen or Sephikura or AkuSai. it has great potential to be a toxic yet completely codependent relationship. the kind of relationship that you know you shouldn't be in because its doing you damage but you won't leave because who else loves you in that way that makes you feel powerful, makes your skin crawl with need?

So with that in mind I often read Vanipliku like this:

Repliku is with Vanitas because its the closest thing he can get to Sora. Van looks like Sora, he sounds like Sora, but Van is fucked up enough to go along with the darkest of Repliku's idea's. If Repliku asked, Vanitas would grab his hand and let himself be pulled into the darkness. But Repliku doesn't neccesserally love Vanitas' darkness.

Vanitas wants to be loved. He doesn't care how, and he doesn't care why, he just wants to feel as if he is. He doesn't know what love feels like, so When Repliku is willing to kiss him, willing to hang off of him and be possessive of him, Vanitas accepts that, revels in it even.

The fact that what they are doing is not love its obsession, its toxic codependency, doesn't even register. They both feed of of each others darkness.

Niether of them want to be alone and regardless of the fact that Repliku makes Vanitas feel rage like nothing else when he compares him to the hero of light, or barates him for his own personality, doesn't matter. The fact that Vanitas will torture and emotionally humiliate Repliku in return doesn't matter. because in the end what they have isn't love, but it sure feels like it to them.

The posessivness spills out into letting the other be touched by others. Repliku is extremely jelous and will hurt people and Vantias if he percieves even the slightest chance of betrayal.

Vanitas craves the pain, and the feeling of being owned and wanted. He's less jelous of insignificant others, but he would truely love to torture Sora until Repliku sees how weak the boy is. Until he realises Vanitas is the better option.

I dunno man, if you see them as loving and healthy, I'm not about to say you are wrong. You ship what you ship and I think thats great. this is just how I have always interpreted this paticualr ship!

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt. 14 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: Better late than never, and yet still too late.

words: 8.1 k

chapter warning: peter being an idiot, talk of murder, and s*xu*l ass^lt (tw *sa*) descriptions of hospitals, injuries, panic attacks, peter trying his best to be a perfect fluffy boyfriend

series warnings: mob-typical violence, bang bang shoot shoot, whump. hurt/comfort. s*xu*l situations. spousal ab^se. family trauma. dr^g use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don't get the Jonas Brothers reference in this chapter, you're probably too young for this.

Back to Part 13.

Part 14

Everything was too loud. Too bright. Too much.

That’s how Peter always used to feel. Never mind the life-long possibility of neurodivergence. When he turned 17, things particularly felt like they were spiraling out of control. He had too much energy, too many inputs of information shoving its way into his brain, too many emotions. No place to put it to use.

He’d spent years honing his ability to focus. To see the bad things coming. To react before they happen. That’s how he’d been able to survive. That’s how he protected his own.

And then one day he’d gotten a cup of coffee and fucked it all up.

He couldn’t get the buzz of fluorescent lights out of his ears. He stood inside a supply room at New York-Presbyterian, trying with difficulty to listen to the voice of the woman standing next to him, and all he could hear was that goddamn buzz, like a chainsaw rattling inside of an oil barrel.

“Hey,” Felicia’s voice sharply snapped, yanking his attention towards her. “Are we boring you or somethin’?”

She, Peter, and a doctor—one of the surgeons who treated Miguel— stood together in the solitude of the small room amongst shelves of PPE, cleaning supplies, and sterilization equipment. They had sequestered themselves in the room for privacy and protection, just in case any unwanted visitors arrived and decided to finish their attack.

Arms crossed, a sharp crease between her microbladed brows, Felicia burned him with her gaze. “You mind at least taking notes for the class if you’re done napping?”

Peter glared back, unappreciative of her tone. “How did this happen?” he asked calmly, eyes shifting back to the surgeon.

“They didn’t give me those details,” she apologetically sighed. Her voice was a low, tense whisper. “But we did find a shard of plastic lodged in his collarbone. Probably disposable cutlery from the cafeteria.”

Peter sighed heavily, eyes grim. He brought his hand up to soothe a piercing ache behind his eyes.

“The damage was extensive,” she explained gravely. “He lost a lot of blood. We counted at least thirteen wounds to the chest and neck. He’s lucky to be alive.”

Peter gritted his teeth, rage bubbling beneath his skin. “Luck.” The word tasted sour as it rolled out of his mouth. He bit his tongue to keep from adding anything further. “Alright, how long until we can move him?”

“Into a private room?” 

“Into a different city,” Peter said.

The doctor blinked. Glanced back between Peter and Felicia. “Are you serious? He can’t leave—”

“Well, he can’t stay,” Peter curtly declared. “The people that wanted him dead are gonna try again the second they get wind that he survived. If they don’t know already.” He glanced warily at the door to the supply room. “And if that’s the case, then everybody in this facility is in danger.” He ground his teeth, corners of his mouth turned down. “And they’re also a threat.”

The surgeon’s eyes darted up to him anxiously, then back to Felicia. She crossed her arms, swallowing with a dry tongue. “Um, sure. I’ll see what I can do. Maybe a few hours, though.”

“One hour,” Peter firmly stated, unsubtle with his criticism. “It’s not safe here. For anyone.”

Holding her tongue, Felicia’s eyes shifted between Peter and the doctor. The air was thick enough to cut through. “Thanks, Helen,” she said pleasantly, a bright contrast from the weight of Peter’s words. “We’re gonna chat a bit then I’ll come out and find ya, ‘kay?” She turned to Peter, with steel eyes and a wide forced smile.

Observing her glare, he gently added, “Thank you, Dr. Cho.”

She nodded, without reply, and discreetly exited the room.

When they were alone, Peter curved his neck like dropping a barbell. Exhaustedly, he pulled his hands down his face. “There’s no way Danny’s people pulled somethin’ like this,” he mused. “This has Kingpin written all over it. Fuckin’ dirty cops, dirty prison guards. Is there anything left in this city that doesn’t have his putrid rot all over it?” He punctuated his frustration by gripping the edges of the steel shelving, indenting his fingers into the metal frame. 

Biting his tongue to calm himself, he paced. “Matt was right. We got another rat. Or something worse. Need to keep our eyes open ‘til we can move Miguel to a safe house.” He exhaled sharply, wrapping his arms across his chest. “We need more men. I’m gonna call in a favor from Brooklyn, see what they—”

“I think I liked you better when you were just a loser,” Felicia muttered, narrowing her eyes on him, “not an asshole.” He snapped his eyes up. “Really, though. This whole ‘fascist-dictator’ persona is throwin’ off my zen.” 

Unamused, he rolled his eyes, grit in his throat. “Say what you wanna say, Cat.”

“Oh, believe me. I will. What in the hell is wrong with you lately?”

“Whaddya want me t’do, alright?” Peter hissed quietly. “Miguel wouldn’t be here if that goddamn D.A. wouldna had a stick up his ass—”

“Wrong, Pete! Miguel wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t almost beaten Danny Rand to death.”

He shot a displeased look at her. He seethed, the memory scorching his brain. “He’ll live.”

Her face twisted with disgust. “Fucking boys!”

“He put his hands on her—!”

“What about it?” she shot back. “You think that hasn’t happened to her before? Are you really that dense?”

“Don’t tell me that,” he warned, feeling his temper rising again. “S’not right—”

“It’s not right, but it happens,” Felicia argued. “Anyone with a pair of tits can tell you they’ve met at least ten Danny Rands—and I’m no exception. But I never tried to murder one, like a goddamn stupid caveman, in a room full of witnesses! Without even checking everyone for weapons first!”

Fixing her with a sorrowful look, he exhaled slowly as he considered her point of view. They both knew she spoke from her history. Deep down, he knew she was right. 

“And for the record,” she added, more poignantly, “she had a chance to stand up for herself and you took that away. That was about you. Not her.”

He cast his eyes downward with a renewed shame. 

“Call Brooklyn,” she flippantly sneered with disdain. “Call Harlem. Call the goddamn Marines. Just make sure you call a shrink afterwards.” 

He swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the floor. 

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Spider,” Felicia sighed. Her voice was softer, more sincere, but no less disappointed. “Whatever it is—you need to figure it out before anyone else gets hurt. Your girl included.”

Peter drifted like a ghost through the post-surgery ward. Enough of the staff had been informed by Dr. Cho to ‘pretend you can’t see him until he goes away.’ Like the Boogeyman. 

There was extra anxiety hanging over the hospital floor, apprehension increasing with Peter’s presence. No one wanted to see him, much less be questioned whether or not they did.

When he came upon Miguel’s curtained-off quarters, he tensed at the sight of a figure standing at his bedside. Stunned, his lips parted, eyes wide.

“Miles?” It was the first time he’d seen him in weeks. Not since that night where he stormed out of the penthouse after viciously accusing Peter of—

It didn’t matter. He was right.

The teen was bundled in brandless sweatshirt layers, with a thrifted L.L. Bean puffer coat that he’d owned for years. His chin lifted as he shot a cold look at the older man.

“What are you doin’ here?” Peter said as he approached, brows furrowed with concern. “Is everything okay—”

“No. It’s not okay,” he muttered. “I heard someone came after my family.” Miles nodded towards Miguel’s unconscious body, hooked up to beeping machines and a ventilator. Miles’ voice had an unsubtle edge, defensive and cagey. “What was I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be home with your parents,” Peter said worriedly. He could feel Miles’ anger, but refused to mirror it. “You can’t be here, man. It’s not safe.”

“I know that,” Miles stated grimly. The boy’s dark eyes met Peter’s, and the mob leader couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He looked older, somehow, despite it only being a few weeks since he last saw him. Weariness drew hard lines on his features in a way that broke Peter’s heart. 

He cast his eyes away from Peter, returning his gaze to Miguel. “Nowhere’s safe when you’re around.”

Albany. Annapolis. Atlanta. Augusta. Austin.

“Are you going out dressed like that? You dress like a whore you’re going to get raped one day…”

Baton Rouge. Bismarck. Boise. Boston.

“I gotta say. I never figured you for a mob whore.”

Carson City. Charleston. Cheyenne. Columbia. Columbus. Concord.

“You’re just a perky pair of tits and a wet pussy for him to shove a couple of babies into…”

Denver. Des Moines. Dover.

Stupid, stupid girl.

BOOMBOOMBOOM

Startled, Honey breached the surface of the bath water with a gasp. Instinctively, she covered her nude body with her arms, wrapping them tightly around her body. 

“Please respond, or I’ll be forced to break down the door.”

The masculine voice echoed from the outside of the bathroom, behind a locked door. Honey was alone, chin deep in the suds of a freestanding soaking tub. She wouldn’t be for long, she realized, as she heard another impatient knock from one of Peter’s faceless guards. 

Likely Rollins. Or maybe Mace. Or Faceless Guard Number Five. 

Whoever it was, they were unwelcome.

“This is your final warning,” the voice repeated. She rolled her eyes. Fucking Rollins.

“Alright!” she snapped, indignation filling her voice. “I heard you!”

“Open the door!” Rollins ordered.

“No!” she hissed. “Don’t come in! I’m changing a tampon!”

A pause. Silence. 

“Mr. Parker arranged a vehicle to transport you.” Rollins was less eager to open the door, but no less irritated. “Get dressed. Car’s waiting.”

“Wait, what?” she called back, echoing off the tiles. “For what? Where am I going?”

No answer.

She was alone, left in the dark. Literally. 

She hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights all day. Instead, she let the afternoon sun pour in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bathroom, naming the seagulls that flew by, imagining what it’s like to walk through walls, picturing that the glass didn’t exist, and contemplating how brief the 20-story trip down to the concrete would be.

The bath water had gone cold long ago. 

She sank beneath the surface again, weighed down by her heavy heart. 

He said ‘transport you,’ like she was a package. An empty box. 

That wasn’t far from the truth. She had felt empty since last night, when Peter told her, patronizingly, to ‘go to her room.’ It was insulting and infuriating, especially after they had just shared— 

Whatever that was.

What it was, she was humiliated by it. She didn’t know what madness came over her. But she’d never experienced—never even participated in—anything like it before. Never acted so fearlessly and intimately lewd in such an open manner. 

Not even during her marriage. 

Certain things were not permitted for her, masturbation was one of them. On the rare occasion that she was horny, there was only one place she was allowed to put that energy.

She refused to think about that further, for fear that she’d sink into the bathwater and choose not to resurface. 

Last night was different, in so many ways. There was something about the way Peter looked at her that made her feel powerful. Not merely that she was a goddess, but she was Aphrodite, Pele, Yemeya and Mother Mary combined. It made her feel alive. And when he started mirroring her motions—eyes possessed like a lovestruck zombie—it went from a dizzy, waking dream to the sexiest experience of her life. 

With that act, she opened herself up to him. And he reciprocated, with vulnerability in his eyes and devotion in his breath. It was like he worshiped her. 

Like he loved her.

It was a nice feeling. While it lasted. 

Whatever it was, it was clearly a mistake.

Now he’s transporting her somewhere. Back to the cabin? To another safe house? Is she in trouble? She never went anywhere without Peter by her side. Was he mad at her? Was he sending her away? Had he gotten what he wanted from her and decided—

“Once you’ve served your purpose, he’ll be on to the next one…”

Was he done with her, at last? Had he finally seen what he was wasting his energy on? She huffed, mouth beneath the surface. She probably wouldn’t be that lucky.

The car ride was tense. 

She was alone in the giant backseat of the SUV, surrounded by cold black leather and darkened windows. She felt like she was in a hearse. 

She could see out of the windows, but not the driver. The doors were also childlocked. She had tested them out until the disembodied voice of the driver, hidden on the other side of the partition wall, told her to stop it. 

It was a coffin. She was wearing Yves Saint Laurent to her funeral. 

Specifically, an Italian-made, viscose-and-silk minidress featuring an open scoop back, an asymmetrical hem, long sleeves and a crew neckline. It was sparkly and shimmery, but still edgy, featuring a black snakeskin-esque pattern.

The dress had been sealed in a garment bag and laid out on her bed when she emerged from the bathroom. 

It had been chosen for her. 

She wondered if the snakeskin pattern had any significance. 

The other cruel remark that Janet Van Dyne made wormed into her brain: “Step out of line, and he’ll take you out with the garbage.”

She felt sweat forming beneath her arms. A gnawing fear chewed at her that she would not only be discarded, but literally discarded. In the river. Or a landfill. Somewhere she would just disappear, easily forgotten, never to be found. It was a terrifying thought that Peter was more than capable of.

Perhaps that was a needless worry. Reason told her that Peter wouldn’t call her an Uber and send her off to be executed. 

“Because if I want something done, I do it myself.”

The vehicle slowed down, pulling off to the side of 74th Street. 

Her heart began to race. If he thought she was a snake, he’d kill her with his bare hands.

They were stopped in front of a small, unassuming store front with opaque windows. It reminded Honey of the tiny restaurant in The Godfather where Michael kills the rat who betrayed his family, along with the dirty cop that tried to murder his father. For some reason.

A modest banner hung outside the glass with the words ‘Sushi Ishikawa.’ 

A sushi bar? Were they hoping to murder her with a seafood allergy? 

The car door in front of her swung open, as Faceless Car Driver Number Eight glared down at her impatiently. 

“Get out of the car and go inside.”

Inside, the sushi bar was just as modest. It was a small, intimate place, with concrete floors and brick walls, and no more than eight seats in the whole restaurant. There was only one occupant. Peter jumped to his feet as soon as he saw her standing in the doorway.

Good god—he looked even more dashing than he did the last time she saw him. Although, by the end of that last encounter— with his hand in his boxers— she remembered him looking hotter than the Sun. 

He wore another monochromatic black outfit, this time a leather blazer, with a pinhead-pattern collared shirt, slim-fit trousers and a skinny tie. His hair was fashioned neatly, even more so than usual. The most eye-catching element of his appearance was that for the first time ever, she saw him without a beard.

The change was jarring to behold. Without facial hair he looked ten years younger. Maybe more, like he could still be in college. Clean-shaven, his appearance elevated to a whole new threat level. He looked boyish, the chiseled marble of his jawline now gloriously displayed without distraction. High cheekbones, sharp nose, pouty pink lips, caramel-colored eyes: he had the kind of beauty that a million teenage love songs were written about. 

Looking at him broke her heart. 

Astonishingly, he didn’t seem to notice that her eyes bugged out of her head, because his were doing the same. He wore a stupefied expression, as if he were gazing at a miracle. Mouth agape, he quickly glanced at her overall appearance. Not scandalously like in the past, but coyly, with a flustered face and rosy ears.

His response summed up the contents of his mind nicely. 

“Uh-uhm… hi.” 

The sentence was almost all air, similar to the contents of his skull. His voice was buried somewhere in his stomach. He punctuated the greeting with a nervous chuckle.

His amorous expression made fireworks erupt in her stomach. But as soon as her lips began to twist into a smile, her memories hammered it down. She went cold, dropping her eyes to the floor. 

Like his star had gone out, his life force faded almost instantly. 

“Miss, won’t you come in?” An unknown voice called from behind the bar. 

Peter turned towards two men wearing chef’s uniforms, a young man that looked to be in his 20s, along with his much older father. Their voices startled him, as he momentarily forgot that they’d be there. 

He had forgotten that Honey wasn’t the only person on the planet.

She stared at the sushi chefs curiously, then looked back at Peter, brows pinched together. 

“Uh, yeah,” Peter stuttered, his brain buffering. Cleared his throat. Politely, he pulled out one of the chairs at the bar, dipping his hand towards it in gentlemanly fashion. “Sorry, um, here. Please sit.”

She glared down at the empty chair, then slid her eyes over to him, suspicion etched onto her features. 

“Please.”

His earnest plea didn’t matter. It was obvious that she didn’t trust him. Why should she? They were a continent apart, with her close to the exit.

Her eyebrow raised high. “What is this?”

Peter had come to be familiar with all of her tones of voice. He recognized what her bratty voice sounded like, as well as her stubborn voice, and her grumpy voice. This wasn’t any of those. A hard edge had been carved into it. Sharpened with spite.

He gulped, shrinking at the anger buried in her tone. 

“Um…” he began timidly, “I, uh… I felt— Things, um— The last few days got blown to hell. And… I didn’t want you to-to think that I didn’t remember. Or that I didn’t want to remember, or that it wasn’t important to me, y’know. ‘Cos, it is. It really is. And this wasn’t exactly what I had planned, but I-I-I really wanted to get this right, and do something—“

“Fuck me!” she spat.

“Excuse me?” His eyes went wide.

“Is this the date, Peter?” she sneered hotly, jabbing her finger accusingly at the bar stool.

Silence. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Now, hold up, jus-just give me a minute—”

“Why should I? Why should I give you anything?

“Just one! Just one minute—“

“I don’t have one minute to give you, Peter, because I’d rather eat glass than eat sushi with you.” She shot a glance over to the chefs in the corner of the room. “No offense.”

“Well,” Peter sheepishly replied, bringing his shoulders up to his ears, “they don’t have glass on the menu here—”

“Fine.” She said directly to the chefs, “I’ll have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, please. With extra peanuts.”

Peter glanced back and added, “Yeah, can we hold off on that order ‘til the end? We’re probably gonna take it to go—”

“I don’t believe this,” she growled, spinning on her heel and heading for the door. “Good night. I’m leaving.”

Just as she touched the pull handle, Peter was suddenly there with his hand wrapped around the bar—having teleported again in the blink of an eye. She scoffed with frustration, but she wasn’t surprised. All he had ever done was slam doors in her face.

“I’ll take you home,” he offered, his tone placating. She glared up at him impatiently. “I’ll drive you. I promise. I just need…” he sighed, wallowing in hopelessness. “Just give me one dinner. That’s all I’m askin’. If you’re still not havin’ it, then we’ll go home—”

“Fabulous! Then I can go back to my room.”

It was a painful jab for them both. He grimaced, snapping his eyes closed, as if she’d punched him in the gut. Observing his pained expression, she felt a sliver of guilt run through her, much to her agitation. 

Eyes downcast, he whispered with a heavy sigh. “I know I don’t deserve you, alright?” He pinched his lips, the corners of his mouth turned down. She blinked rapidly. “I know, I’m a jerk, and I’m nuts, and I-I should’ve treated you better. From the start, Honey. I know that.” 

Silently fuming, she glowered up at him. By contrast, his voice was mournfully soothing, with an ache in each word. A eulogy to the perfect relationship he’d hoped for.

Bourbon eyes fixed on her, heavy with shame, he pleaded, “I know I’ve got no right to ask. I’ve got nothin’ to say that you wanna hear. I don’t deserve to even talk to you. But in case you wanted to talk… even if it’s just to tell me what a shit person I am... I-I’m here. Alright? I’m here and I’m willing to listen. Whatever you wanna say.”

She noted the way his eyes glistened as he spoke, the hope welling up behind his lids and threatening to spill away. She softened her gaze. 

He sighed, “Please, Honey. You’re so kind, and you give so much, and I’m-I’m askin’ for just one more kindness. That’s it.”

She fixed a hard gaze on him, her brows pinched together, and her mouth as straight as an arrow. 

She hated seeing him heartbroken like that. She hated that she even cared about his heart.

She turned her attention to the chefs standing behind the bar, who were trying to politely ignore the heated quarrel that their only customers were engaged in. Having been in the service industry for a while herself, she sympathized with how awkward it must seem. And she didn’t want to give them the impression that she didn’t want to eat what they had to make.

“Fine. But only because I like sushi. Then I wanna leave. Got it?”

He nodded quickly. “Got it.” 

She flicked her eyes away and stomped over to the bar, plopping down in a seat that was intentionally one chair away from the one he’d pulled out for her. He bit his tongue at the slight, and trudged over to take the seat next to hers.

She committed to dinner begrudgingly, hoping for a single California roll and to be excused. This particular restaurant was different. There was no menu. No orders to be given. 

The elder sushi chef discussed in his native language the origin of omakase sushi. His son provided an English translation—“I leave it up to you.” In other words, the chefs didn’t take orders, instead they improvised a menu of their best seasonal offerings, and presented each bespoke course with artistry and flair. 

The first course of the omakase meal began with a nearly-frozen Kumamoto oyster for each of them, garnished with minced apple. It was delectable. She felt better overall with some kind of nourishment, considering that she skipped the other meals of the day. Her mood improved in just a few bites, albeit slight.

The younger chef then explained that there would be 22 courses in total. She wanted to stab Peter in the eye with a butter knife. Or a chopstick. 

As luck would have it, this restaurant encouraged them to eat with their hands as per tradition, so neither was available.

So she chewed, mostly in silence. By the time she was savoring the ninth course, Peter turned to her with a serious expression. “So where do you stand on wasabi?”

She licked the savory taste of bluefin tuna from her fingertips. “Is it a position on which one could stand?”

Gravely, he nodded. “Yes. A serious one.”

She gave it a few seconds of thought, then shrugged. “I don’t mind a little horseradish now and again. Not too much, though.”

“No, I said ‘wasabi' not ‘horseradish,’” he clarified.

“It’s the same thing.”

“What?”

“Yep.”

“No. Bullshit.”

“No, really. You don’t know this?”

“It’s a plant, a root! I think. Pretty sure.”

“You’re pretty wrong. All the wasabi in 99% of the sushi joints over here, most of the time, is horseradish paste with green food coloring. The real stuff is rare. It’s like $300 bucks a kilo.”

“A kilo?”

“Yeah, the real plants really only grow in Japan and they take years to cultivate—and I don’t know why they sell wasabi by the kilo, like it’s cocaine or something—ooh, future opportunity in case you want to diversify your portfolio— but horseradish is from the root and wasabi is from the stalk.” She licked her lips, pleased with the ease at which she plucked the information from her ever-growing library of useless stuff.

“Well,” Peter shrugged, understandingly, “the metric system is superior—”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” she grumbled. They shared a soft chuckle, and she ended up blinded by his grin. 

She hated the way her heart fluttered at the sound of his laugh, compounded exponentially if she knew it was in response to one of her jokes. 

Hated the color of his eyes. Like caramel and chocolate. Maple syrup and whiskey. 

Hated his stupid face and his stupid hair. 

Hated the way he made her feel.

Hated how easy it was to fall into a conversation with him. Like they were old friends from grade-school, or lifelong neighbors who grew up next door to one another. She wondered what that life would’ve been like for her: if she’d met Peter in school, before either of their lives changed so drastically.

“How do you know so many state capitals?” Peter asked in awe, in between course fifteen and sixteen. At the same time, he poured a serving of cold sake into her wine glass.

“State birds too,” she explained, with a bit of pride. “And rocks.”

“States have state rocks?”

“Yup,” she said with a nod, taking a sip. 

She had spent most of the time spilling her vast knowledge about subjects most people didn’t care about. Peter cared. He looked at her reverently like she was Moses handing down the Ten Commandments. 

“I was really nerdy about maps as a kid,” she explained, while simultaneously picking up the sake bottle and filling his glass in return. “I would look at this big roadmap book I found in the garbage one day—you know, the old school spiral notebooks that AAA used to give to old people?—and I’d pick a number, and go to that page number, and decide that’s where I was going to live one day.”

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head with wonder. “You’re not gonna believe this,” he replied, cheeks sore from smiling. “But when I was like 9, I had a puzzle that May got from a garage sale, it was like a puzzle map of the United States. And one summer, I spent almost every day assembling and disassembling it. And I’d give the states personalities and proper names. And I’d make up these storylines with them. Like little soap operas, and act them out with the pieces.”

“You what?”

“For real,” he nodded. “Not even joking.”

“You had state dolls? And you’d act out little plays with them? Little land disputes?”

Taking a sip from his glass, he shrugged, considering it. “Yeah, I guess I did.” A grin warmed his face at the memory.

She hated how that smile lit up her whole life.

She giggled with delight at the picture of a young Peter Parker playing with cardboard state cutouts instead of little army men. “Wait, who was the bad guy? There’s always gotta be a bad guy.”

“Well,” Peter sobered, jestfully, “the South always has their issues, y’know? Drama queens, all of ‘em. But the real one you gotta watch out for is Idaho.”

She chortled so loudly that it startled the chefs. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” 

It was nineteen courses in. (She hated how good the food was.)

She blinked, taken aback by the intense sincerity of the comment. He was gazing at her with the same dopey look he wore when she walked in. Like she had the Milky Way in her eyes and he was determined to catalog every star.

Glancing away, she straightened uncomfortably in her chair. “Stop.”

He protested her dismissive tone with an undefeatable smile on his lips. “What? Why? Why you gotta argue with me about that?”

“Because you’re crazy. And you need therapy. Like 20, 25 years maybe. Maybe less, with intense journaling. Medication, too.”

He snorted with a grin, “Yeah, but that’s beside the point.” His eyes were fixed on hers again, drawing her gaze in like a magnet. Fine lines crinkled the corners of his eyes in the most flattering way. “I’m serious. You’re beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes with a bitter smile. “Flattery isn’t going to make this meal last any longer than it needs to.”

His grin faded a bit as he studied her further. Brows pinched, face contorted with puzzlement. “I don’t get it,” he mused. “How could you look in the mirror every day and not see what I see?”

She flicked her gaze to him briefly. His eyes twinkled as he observed her, his heart spilling out of them and onto his sleeves. She gulped hard. Lips formed a line, a wry edge to her words. “I’m not perfect, Peter.”

“I didn’t say ‘perfect’,” he replied. “I said ‘beautiful.’ Flaws and all.”

She hated the sincerity in his voice. 

“You ever think you’re just looking at me through rose-colored glasses?”

“No, I don’t think that.”

“Well, might want to get your eyes—“

“I don’t think that,” he doubled down, “because I’m in love with you.” 

Her mind locked up, like a car crash in her brain. 

Whipped her gaze over to his, eyes as wide as saucers. Perhaps she expected to see another sardonic smirk, or the beginning of a chuckle to confirm he was aware of his hyperbole. No such artificialness could be found in his enamored stare. Instead, he admired her—even more so in her dumbfounded state—studying her features with wonder. 

“No matter how hard I tried not to, I fell in love with you anyway,” he affirmed.

They were in a vacuum. Every sound in Manhattan vanished, save for the thrashing of her heart. She glanced away, the sensation burning into a sharp ache.

“You’re in love with the idea of me,” she said with a melancholy tone. “You love Honey. Not me.”

“Is that right?” Peter replied, too quickly to be an agreement. Frustration clawed through his tone. “That’s what you think? Okay. And what about you, huh?” He pinned her with his scrutinizing stare. “Which version of me are you in love with?”

Her pulse tripped at the accusation. Honey glanced away, eyeing her glass of water anxiously. She could feel his gaze on her, waiting patiently for a reply. Her tongue was twisted up in her mouth. 

“Maybe I’m wrong,” he said, mournful. “Maybe I do need a shrink.” He was thoughtful and analytic, perhaps speaking more to himself than to her. “I gotta be doin’ somethin’ wrong here. All the people who matter the most to me are the ones who think the least of themselves.”

A shadow fell over his expression, like a solar eclipse. Immediately, she found herself missing the sunlight.

After bidding fond goodbyes and leaving a generous tip, Peter held the door open for Honey as they stepped out into the night air. She glanced around expecting to see a blacked-out SUV idling off the curb, but only saw an empty street. She crossed her arms, anticipating that Peter was up to something.

“Where’s the car?” She questioned, a brow raised.

“Oh yeah,” Peter pointed at the unoccupied curb, as if he’d forgotten something. “I sent them home. I drove here. Valeted around the corner.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Uh-huh.”

“I figured I could just drive us back myself.”

“Uh-huh.” She gave him a scrutinizing stare, unsatisfied with his answer, with just the slightest upward curve of her lip.

Placatingly, he touched his shoulders to his ears. “No-No, I know,” he nodded, agreeing with whatever it was she was saying with her eyes. “We’re gonna go home right now. Just gotta walk around the corner.”

She narrowed her gaze. He brought a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it idly. “Unless,” he added, with a devious look, “you want to hang out a little later?”

There it was. She pursed her lips together, pretending there wasn't a smile there. “Dinner is already over, Peter.”

“I know it is.”

“You said you’d take me home after dinner. That was the deal—”

He argued, failing at sounding casual, “And I will! I just, y’know, wondered if you, um… wanted to finish off dinner with… like, somethin’-somethin’ extra, y’know? In case, y’know we get hungry later? Like an after-dinner appetizer? Or a-a chaser? Somethin’ to aid the digestive process?”

She scoffed with a hearty laugh. “Oh? Did a new craft-antacid gastropub open somewhere?”

He beamed at her warmly, biting the soft flesh of his lip. “Even better.”

“What are you up to?”

He pocketed his hands in his jacket, gazing down at her excitedly. “It’s a surprise,” he grinned with a smile that should be criminal. “You in?”

This was stupid. She was stupid. She should not be this giddy about something so silly. But as her astonished gaze flicked between Peter Parker and Michael Jordan, ‘giddy’ was the only appropriate word.

They were standing in the back of an arcade. A 'barcade,' rather. The enormous space felt electric. Like a playground for the inner child, buzzing with the sounds of bells, buzzers, and blasters. Of laughter, and virtual engines revving, and of a high-intensity K-pop soundtrack over on the Dance, Dance Revolution platforms. 

It was a mix of classic video game cabinets, like Galaga, Pac-Man, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, as well as carnival-style games, like Cyclone and Skee-Ball, and pinball machines for every metal band of the 80s. 

The highlight for Honey was where they were standing. She looked up in awe at a 2-player Extreme Shot basketball station, decorated with buzzing lights, an electronic scoreboard, and Looney Tunes characters. The one and only Space Jam-themed game she had ever seen.

She couldn’t tell if the bells and whistles were coming from elsewhere or the inside of her chest.

“Peter, this is…I-I—” she breathed slowly, her heart swelling. Eyes brimming with tears. “I hate this. I hate you. I hate you so much. This is the greatest moment of my adult life. I love everything about this!”

Peter nodded, amused, “That’s pretty much the reaction I was expecting.” 

With big wet eyes, she looked up at him like a child at Christmas. Pure joy. It was like looking straight into the Sun. Her joy was too bright to look at without feeling like he would melt. Inexplicably, her face prompted a giggle that broke out of his lips. An unusual sound unheard in over a decade. He glanced away, shaking his head with cheeks flushed. 

“You wanna play?” He reached into the netted bin and lifted out a basketball. “One-on-one?”

Mouth still slightly agape, she looked down at the ball, then back to him. “That depends. Are you ready to be humiliated in front of all of these people?”

He barked out a laugh. “Humiliated? Wow! We’re trash-talkin’ now? Is’at where we’re at?” A light airiness elevated them, one that shaved decades off of their lives and painful scars off their memories. “Okay, that’s how it is?”

“That’s how it is,” she affirmed, reaching for her own basketball. She kicked off her pumps next to the arcade cabinet, dropping four inches like it was a useless advantage to have. She padded over with bare feet on the cold concrete floor. 

“Oh, wow. This is—this is serious?” He palmed the basketball, spinning it in his grip. “Now I’m worried. You’re... very confident. How ‘bout we raise the stakes, then? Wanna play for somethin’?”

She paused, throwing him another suspicious look. “Where is this going? You know I’m not your Sugar Mama, right? Can’t keep funding all your little expensive shopping sprees.”

He gasped, feigning a scandalized face, “Rude. That’s… that’s rude!”

A giddy laugh burst from her lips. “Okay, then what?”

He hesitated, his confidence faltering for a moment. Biting his lip, he glanced over at her with doe eyes and pink cheeks. “Your hand.”

Her eyes widened. “My hand?” She repeated, harsh judgment in her tone. “What-What’s that supposed to mean? My hand in marriage?”

Peter gasped. His brows shot up instantly, then he pinched them together. “Ohhhh man.” He brought his fingertips up to his lips, looking down at her with pity. “I was just talking about you giving me a hand with the dishes—?”

She snickered like a child, smacking him on the shoulder playfully. “Stop—!”

“—Aww, this must be so embarrassing for you!”

“You menace!” 

They broke into a fit of laughter, eyes crinkled, bodies doubled over. The landscape around them shifted and cracked, huge chunks of ice thawing in the spring sun.

“I mean, now that you mention it...” He spoke with a more sober tone. Slyly, his eyes slid over to hers. Cavalier and cool in his demeanor, Peter shrugged, but failed to withhold his excitement. “That’s actually not such a bad idea, y’know?” 

With a wily smirk, he fixed a burning gaze on her. It was all a ruse. It would take an elaborate deception to pretend that he hadn’t been dreaming of marrying her. Perhaps even from the very first day they met and she told him to have a good day. 

Buried beneath the cocky facade, there was a sincere question that echoed from his gaze. The fearsome king of New York’s underground blushed nervously in front of her, with soft, boyish eyes that were too vulnerable and too tarnished by tragedy. And yet, there was a glimmer of hope in them. A diamond in the darkness.

She saw that look, and she felt faint because of it. Weak in the knees, stomach fluttering as if a bouquet of roses bloomed in her belly. Helplessly, she stared back at him with the same mix of fear and longing. She held her lips closed.

Spotting her hesitation, he lowered his eyes, swallowing a frown. Then, his tone brightened. “How ‘bout this,” he conceded, more casually. “If I win, you’ll let me hold your hand.”

She blinked at him in disbelief. “You wanna hold my hand?” 

Her tone sounded much more critical than she intended. The sharpness of it cut a nick into his confidence. He faltered for a moment, avoiding the instinct to flail as he sank further into the depths. 

Instead, he held his breath. Pressed his lips together and nodded with a gentle smile. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

She stared blankly, dizzy with swirling emotions. One moment she wanted to kiss him, the next she wanted to kill him in his sleep. It was astonishing how one man could invoke such opposite emotions.  But as easy as it was to fall in love with the light of his gaze, she recalled the cool chill of the dark cavern within.

Her smile faded a bit. “If I win, I get space.”

“Space?”

“To be my own person,” she declared with resolve. “In my own home. On my own. No cameras. No creepy guards lurking in the halls.” She glanced away, adding delicately. “My own bed.”

Peter raised his chin, gazing down at her with a softened look. He remembered Felicia’s words about what he had taken away from her while trying to offer her the world. 

Solemnly, he nodded. He agreed to the terms, a bittersweet half-smile on his lips. “You’re on.” 

The first game was a fluke. They made it two out of three. Then three out of five. Then four of seven. Best of nine. And by the tenth straight loss, the streak needed to come to an end at some point. 

Peter offered her a respectful handshake as consolation. Tried not to smile at the sourpuss frown. Failed to not smirk at her accusations that he cheated. Denied rigging the game somehow. Denied that he actually owned the game and the arcade, and that all of its patrons were actors. 

He tried with difficulty not to laugh as she scowled and pouted and crossed her arms, glaring up at him like an angry cat left out in the rain. He remained reserved with his hand outstretched, waiting for their contest to end amicably.

He waited for her. For years, he waited. Until she slipped her tiny hand into his, firmly returning the handshake. 

Before she could take her hand back, he tugged her close, until their mouths were inches apart. Until they breathed the same air, and were oblivious to the bar atmosphere around them. Until all she could see was him, and even that was a struggle between his heavenly eyes and his sinful mouth. A glowing ember gaze, burning with passion for one another.

“Ready to go home now?” he asked, wearing a half-smile that infuriated and enraptured her. “Or can I get you a drink?”

They spent the next hour and a half flirting like teenagers. Joking like old friends. It made her feel normal, made him seem normal. Like the insanity of their lives had never really happened. Or if it did, it was all going to be okay now. 

They blended in effortlessly with the rowdy crowd of twenty-and-thirty-something’s occupying the bar. But first—he had to get rid of that tie, she told him, untying the knot with a cheeky grin. He fought vertigo as he felt the warmth of her fingertips undoing one of his top buttons next. 

They battled against invading aliens, other Formula 1 drivers, and The Foot. Surprisingly, they made a good team. They picked out a lineup of their favorite songs on the jukebox, who knew they both were once Jonatics? 

Every new piece of information added to an intricate jigsaw puzzle, the final picture ever-changing. Until it was—and by extension, they were—unrecognizable. Indistinguishable from the sort of person they would both want to spend the rest of their lives with. 

For a few brief shining moments, they had forgotten who they were supposed to be, and what they had lost.

Not every habit vanished. Peter still crowded up against Honey’s back as she sidled belly up to the bar. No part of him touched her, but his hands locked to the counter surface on either side of her, making her feel like she was in a cage. She looked up at him to see a hardened jaw. He was distracted, glaring defensively at the walls of humans closing in on them, while simultaneously eyeing the exits.

She only then noticed how much he was struggling to remain calm in this situation. It wasn’t a cage he had built, but a shield. His agitation and intensity wasn’t about possession, but protection. Her heart ached at the sight. It warmed at the sight. It reminded her that no—they were not like everybody else. They had both suffered horrific circumstances and would always bear the scars of them.

Regardless, they had both survived.

The gentle touch of her hand covering his stirred him from his hypervigilance. He snapped back to the present, looking down at her fingers as they intertwined with his. The color returned to his white knuckles as they relaxed in her hold. 

He focused on the warmth of her skin, the smoothness of it, how incredibly soft she was, as well as the steady beating of her heart. Knots loosening, his muscles relaxed as she leaned her body heat into his chest. Gentle humid breaths brushed across her collarbone. He breathed her in, deeply inhaling her perfume, her scent, her shampoo, and the hint of hoppy bitterness on her left on her tongue. The simple action ached, like he had been drowning for years and he finally took a full breath. 

He didn’t even hear the bartender prompt them for their next round. Luckily, she was capable of speech and handled it for the both of them. She could’ve ordered the whole bar and he wouldn’t have cared. He was too busy staring at the nape of her neck, the roundness of her shoulders, the delicate ridge of her spine. The feeling of her bare skin against his chest. He wanted to tear apart the fabric that separated them. His swelling heart threatened to burst out of his ribcage.

For a moment, Peter Parker found peace.

“Salud!" she grinned. She had turned around and was handing him a perspiring pint glass. She smirked at him over the rim, locking eyes as she clinked her drink to his. Enamored, his whiskey eyes lingered on hers, before being mesmerized by the cupid’s bow of her lips. 

“Ahh!” she suddenly gasped, as her body jolted forward. The spell was broken at the sound of her alarm. 

Peter glared over her shoulder and shot a death-stare at the two men standing next to them. Red-faced and inebriated, one of them was recovering from a tipsy stumble. The drunk man spun around, looking down with horror at the woman he’d nearly knocked over. 

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry—”

Peter pushed himself between her and her drunk attacker in an instant. She straightened and he spun to face her. Eyebrows pinched, lip curled, blood beginning to boil, his eyes searched her figure for injury. He was in a frenzied state of near-panic, as if he expected to find a gunshot wound.

“I’m okay, it’s okay,” she laughed. 

She laughed.

Peter blinked to see her examining the wet fabric of the front of her dress. Her beer had sloshed out of her glass and soaked the front. Despite the gooseflesh that broke out from the cold liquid, she wore an amused grin on her face.

“Fuck, I am so sorry!” the drunk dead man slurred. “I just—shit, lemme get you some towels—”

Peter turned his head, glaring daggers at the two men, eyes black as coal. He wasn’t just staring at two drunk guys in a bar. He was staring at Danny Rand’s bodyguards at the club. Wilson Fisk’s henchmen in the auto body shop. Flash Thompson’s teammates in the high school locker room. 

“No, no, really—I’m okay!”

He heard her voice somewhere in the back of his head. Her light tone didn’t match with the sirens ringing in his brain. “Look at me, it’s fine,” she chuckled somewhere in the distance. 

Her hand cupped the side of his face, smoothing over his clenched jaw. He flinched at the contact, a gasp catching in his throat. Peter was looking at her now, studying her concerned gaze and the half-smile still on her lips. He raised an eyebrow at her amusement.

“It was an accident,” she murmured, to the group, but more to him. “We’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Blinking rapidly, he leveled her with a confused look. Displaced. As if he had fallen asleep and now was awake in a different location. She took his hand and he was being pulled through the crowd away from the bar and the stuttering apologies of the Drunk Bros. He was in a daze, being guided gently until they came to stop in a dull corner of the arcade.

“Hey,” she said, searching his face with concern. “Look at me. Are you okay?”

His tongue twisted in his mouth. “Wha—you... I... I didn’t, uhh, but—”

She stood up on her toes, pulling his face down, and brushed a gentle, soothing kiss at the corner of his mouth. His brain told him that he was flying, fainting and flailing in an icy river—all at the same time.

“It’s okay, Peter,” she whispered, rubbing the nape of his neck. The feeling of her fingertips made him prickle all over. “You with me?”

The fog was slowly lifting from his brain, his cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. “I... I didn’t...”

“You did okay,” she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair and sending goosebumps down his spine. “I’m okay. We’re safe.”

He let go of a tense breath as her words sank into his cerebrum, relieving a pulsating ache that had started less than 60 seconds ago. For once, both voices in his head were blessedly silent. Closing his eyes, his neck craned forward, touching his forehead to hers. 

“We can go home now,” she softly replied. “I think I’ve had enough to drink anyway.”

Eyes closed, he nodded. Deep breaths. In and out. 

“Look, just give me a minute, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick,” she coaxed, straightening her back. “We’ll go home right after, okay?” 

He looked up at her, a line formed between his eyebrows. He didn’t have to speak a word for her to read his mind.

“I’ll just be one minute,” she said, backing him towards a wall. “Just wanna clean this up so I’m not so sticky, okay?” Her voice was as melodic and soft as a song. His heart pounded away until her hand came up and rested gently over it. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered with a curved lower lip. “I promise.”

The blood was still returning to his lungs, adrenaline dissipating. After a deep breath, he pursed his lips, nodding at her. Not as approval, but as reassurance that he would be okay. 

She held her gaze on his for several moments, melting his brain even further. If she didn’t leave soon, he’d be runny eggs dripping down the wall. She grinned sweetly, and rounded around him, skipping towards the restroom. His eyes followed her until she disappeared.

Honey felt her heart fluttering as she came to a stop inside the bathroom. Compared to the ruckus outside it was like a sanctuary. She took a deep breath as she gazed in the mirror. That was a close call. That was scary, in fact. So why could she not wipe the stupid smile off her face? 

She smiled like a schoolgirl. Grinned like a fool. She winced at the sticky sensation on her chest, but also sighed at the butterfly wings beneath her sternum. This was ridiculous. She was ridiculous. Why was—

The partition door behind her swung open. Reflexively, her eyes flicked up to the figure emerging, expecting a feminine form. She was wrong. Her smile faded. Her color drained. Terror overtook her features. 

John Walker stalked up behind her. She opened her mouth to scream. 

She didn’t get the chance.

Continue to Part 15

[back to masterlist]

a/n hello! next part is already written and will be up once I have a chance to edit. it's going to be really, really painful. :-) like so much pain.

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[uselessheretic]

I don't believe the issue people have with the idea of Izzy being Ed's abuser is because fans are unwilling to view Ed as a victim of abuse or Izzy as capable of being an abuser. I feel like it's a more simple answer of "people don't agree with that interpretation because there isn't enough to substantiate it."

With Izzy and Ed, it's important to understand the difference between conflict and abuse. (I'd highly recommend "Conflict is Not Abuse" by Sarah Schulman!) A lot of the time in highly volatile relationships, we're quick to assign abuse to them and to figure out which person is the perpetrator and who's the victim, but often times they're just conflicted. This is why you'll often hear Izzy stans describing their relationship as mutually toxic, not mutually abusive (which isn't real)

The simplest definition is determining whether the relationship is based in Power Struggle or Power Over. Abuse isn't based off of individual actions, but an exertion of power. Both Izzy and Ed commit acts as part of a power struggle towards each other, with Izzy's antagonism of Stede and utilization of the navy, and Ed's manipulation and physical violence of punching, choking, and mutilating. (Yes, physical violence is an expression of power!) There's a back and forth here with both having moments of forcing the other to stay, and neither of them being the picture of a healthy relationship. With them, there's also the added element of Izzy's privilege as a white man versus Ed's position as Izzy's boss which are both significant power imbalances that factor into each other's toxicity.

The important part is that Ed's feeling negatively towards Izzy doesn't equate to being an abuser. Izzy vaguely threatens Ed ("Edward better watch his fucking step") but this is also within a context where Ed just choked him. Izzy had called the navy before, yeah, but that option isn't available for him anymore, and Ed still has an advantage of being the only thing keeping the crew from throwing Izzy overboard with an anchor anklet. Arguably, Ed holds more power over Izzy in this specific instance. Rationally, there isn't an immediate threat here, but Ed still responds as if there is.

Ignoring all that, the main part of this is that Ed's Kraken response is indicative of the other person being an abuser. "If someone reminds Ed of his past abuse that much then it must mean that they're in the wrong!" But that's not how that works. Take this passage from Conflict is Not Abuse as an example:

This is also not how Trauma™️ responses functions. Ed, incontestably I hope, has some form of PTSD/c-PTSD. The very defining aspect of PTSD is that a person experiences a traumatic event that they continue to not recover from impacting their day to day life. Often people going through traumatic events will struggle for a bit before getting better, but not everyone does that. When the symptoms continue or even grow worse, that's when we identify PTSD.

PTSD reactions aren't rational. Especially when it comes to c-PTSD, the ability to gauge and respond to threats is damaged. You become easily triggered by things, often seemingly unrelated to an outsider, that reminds you of those traumatic experiences and throws you into survival mode. People with PTSD and who have suffered from abuse are not able to rely on gut instinct alone. That meter has been damaged where the threat alarm is going off at a hair trigger, leaving the survivor of trauma the options of avoiding those triggers completely (nearly impossible) or learning to suppress that. This can also leave survivors of abuse especially prone to revictimization. When every action someone takes looks like a red flag, you learn to tune out that alarm bell, including the times when it's not an overreaction.

If we assume that Ed reacting with the Kraken is indicative of the other person being an abuser, then that'd mean we'd have to assume that Stede's crew was a threat. Ed killed his dad and Ed killed Lucius, so naturally, Lucius must have been abusing Ed. You can extend it as far as Stede as well, since David Jenkins described Stede's rejection as "deranging" Ed, and Ed while acting as the Kraken is tossing out Stede's shit and marooning his playthings. But we know that Lucius only had the best of intentions for Ed, and we know that the crew is too incompetent to hurt Ed.

So what the fuck is going on with Ed?

Simple answer is that Ed feels threatened. Ed's scared. He doesn't feel safe. When chronically traumatized people feel unsafe, they react in defense, including in ways that are maladaptive to themselves, and harmful to others. One way to conceptualize it is through the Internal Family Systems (I wrote an analysis through this lens once!) Within IFS, you have two basic categories of Protectors and Exiles. Exiles are the part of us who hold the pain and shame of our trauma, usually from childhood. Protectors are the parts of us who develop strategies, usually maladaptive, to protect us from that pain. I'm severely simplifying, but I've found this site to be helpful with breaking down the core concepts.

We can think of the Kraken as taking on the role of a Firefighter. The "break glass in case of emergency" protector who comes out when we're in "danger."

Firefighters will do whatever they need to when it comes to stopping the danger, even pushing us into far more fraught situations. This can include things such as binge drinking, self-harm, serial cheating, and other actions we wouldn't rationally view as safe, but things like drinking can numb the pain, self-harm creates feelings of control, and cheating brings reassurance that you are wanted. They're quick fixes with a disregard for consequences in the moment, but they're actions done to "protect" you from danger.

But like I said, trauma can really skew your sense of danger.

Just because someone triggers your PTSD and brings out your greatest threat response, doesn't mean the threat is validated. In the same way flinching when your partner casually reaches out to touch you doesn't mean they're at risk of beating you.

Ed's response to Izzy could be an overreaction to Izzy's vague verbal threat, or it could be a solution to quelling Ed's fear of abandonment, or something else entirely. It could be reminding Ed of his father, but it doesn't mean that Izzy is an abuser. Especially within a context where we've never seen Izzy pose a physical threat to Ed, where the closest we got is him summoning the navy on his white boyfriend, and ensuring that Ed was not harmed in the interaction. Ed's use of physical violence against Izzy isn't proof of Izzy's abuse, no more than it would be for Ed throwing Lucius overboard.

Something Sarah Schulman goes into detail about with the necessity of drawing a difference between conflict and abuse is misidentification of abuse stemming from supremacy vs from trauma. With supremacy, you can't just trust your gut feelings because that ends up with things like white women having moc murdered. Traumatized responses are ones where past victimization interferes with our ability to differentiate between abuse and conflict. These can often overlap with clear borders, but there are differences, of course.

The reason people don't view this dynamic as abusive isn't from an unwillingness to see Ed as a victim, but from knowing that he has been victimized in the past. The level of trauma he sustained as a child severely fucks with someone's head. Not metaphorically either, it literally causes brain damage and has been linked to an increase in likelihood of developing autoimmune diseases. Like, trauma can be so bad that your body just starts eating itself it's fucking wild the amount of damage it can do to a person.

Recognizing that Ed’s actions can be wrong, but still extending empathy towards his place as a survivor of abuse, is an act of compassion towards him.

[rolaplayor101]

After searching about, I've found others who've had and thought about the same issue that I did, which is that the Kingdom Hearts fandom has a HUGE amatonormativity problem. Which, yeah, most fandoms do, but the difference here is that the KH fandom is pretty small, which makes it way more prevalent.

There's a good amount of people who think Sora is aroace, grayromantic, or alloromantic asexual, but they keep it to themselves for risk of being harassed by shippers. They have to protect themselves with "aphobes DNI" on the few posts they do post about it. They have to continuously reblog their own art or go to a confession blog to lament about it.

And it's sad! This is saddening! And the thing is, I do ship SoRiKai. At least the minimum amount, enough to be fully invested in what's going on in canon. Because, canonically? They do care about each other intensely enough to usually go beyond the bounds of typical friendship. Especially Sora. The way he thinks, the things he does, it's all so grandeur in comparison to the things people do in real life for their friends. He flat out says he wants to be with Riku and Kairi forever in one of the first games.

The problem is that people still think being aroace means being apothi and aplatonic, but that's not the case. Sora feels platonic attraction so quickly, frequently, and intensely that it even puts off new characters he meets in the game. He's affectionate, uplifting, and confident(most of the time). But people can't see aroace people as a whole as anything but negative and loveless. Which is just plain not the case for all of us. Aspec people post about the different ways aspec people think all the time! It's mostly the only thing in the aromantic and asexual tags, and I frequent those a lot! So I'd know!

This is an issue thats brought up over and over and over again, and it's that being aroace-- feeling exactly zero romantic or sexual attraction-- does not mean you also feel zero platonic or queerplatonic (or sensual or alterous or any tertiary) attraction. It does not mean you can't feel attraction that is just as intense as allos feel romantic or sexual attraction. Sora has always attributed his strength and confidence to his friends, to his heart that belongs to all of his friends. He feels platonic attraction so intensely that it literally powers him up. It's the main theme of the entire Kingdom Hearts franchise.

Saying that Sora feels queerplatonic attraction towards Riku and Kairi does not mean he'd feel any less than if he were romantically and/or sexually attracted to them.

Thinking that queerplatonic and/or platonic attraction is less than romantic and/or sexual attraction is incorrect, aphobic, amatonormative, and exactly contrary to what Kingdom Hearts the franchise is partially trying to do.

Kingdom Hearts normalizes healthy, platonic, life-long relationships, which wasn't well represented in the early 2000s. Most media represented friendships as on the back burner, especially when pit against romantic relationships. Affectionate arospecs watched shows and movies when they were younger seeing the main character dismiss their friends, grow out of them, or outright hate them, and then have their problems be solved by a romantic partner. Toxic or unhealthy friendships (and also sibling relationships) were the norm, so having Kingdom Hearts, and a few other media I can't think of right now, be made where there's no romance outside of background characters and established ones fron Disney Movies, and where friendship is treated as equal and as the most important, was revolutionary.

Tons of Shounen anime do this, too. Bleach, Full Metal Alchemist, Hero Academia, most sports anime. Then there's other stuff like most magical girl anime, Soul Eater, Little Witch Academia, Promised Neverland, Lucky Star, Baccano, most Miyazaki movies. A lot of popular anime are popular because people love the friendships between characters. And I bet most people in Kingdom Hearts love it specifically because of the friendships too. They like that they're friends. Because their friendships are wholesome, and healthy, and good. They make us feel good. KH isn't "Queerbaiting"(which is only ever brought up for mlm ships and never for aspecs or wlw) for having Riku and Sora care about each other and get along. Just because pop culture has forced f/m relationships start specifically because a girl and a boy get along(if even that happens), doesn't mean that all characters in all media that get along are romantically into each other. Both of those are bad and thinking that its not is a double standard. Platonic chemistry and romantic chemistry are not the same (even if pop culture media continue to try and make it seem like they are). But so many posts trying to prove Sora is actually canonically secretly in romantic love with Riku and Kairi only have evidence of him just being his regular old self, doing things he canonically sees as platonic-- things that are platonic.

It's not an issue of people headcanoning Sora with romantic/sexual attraction (or otherwise) for the other characters, it's about the harassing of other people that it's canon and the blatant aphobia and amatonormativity. All that's canon right now is that Sora cares about his friends, which includes Riku and Kairi, and the fact that I got so much negativity back for saying he's aroace and feels queerplatonic attraction for them only proves that some people in this fandom think aroace people can't care about anyone strictly because they don't feel romantic or sexual attraction. The aphobia in the fandom needs to be addressed, and the aspec content should be allowed to be post freely without push back.

TLDR; Once the main Kingdom Hearts fandom stops seeing every little interaction between certain characters as canonically romantic, it'll finally be a more open and healthy community that people won't be afraid to engage in.

I want this to be helpful to read and for someone to learn something. And if aphobia shows up again, maybe take that person to the side and say that's not cool? Defend us aspecs, please? Cause all that..really makes me feel bad about and put off Kingdom Hearts completely. (And again! I ship SoRiKai! But people that don't ship it shouldn't have to go through this either!)

[brujitaadinbo]

You know; I was discussing the series with my friends team Dinbo in our group chat and despite our differences on things about the series; We didn't have any problem about Osha and Quimir developing feelings, BUT….

We began to see and notice something that in particular makes me quite angry, which is the hypocrisy of the toxic SW fandom.

and here comes my not at all humble opinion and what I take into account from my friends. The fact that Osha and Qimir are enemies then lovers can be accepted and everything is fine. BUT let's be honest, Qimir's true intentions are other, intentions that are not good and can affect Osha; If in history they manage to develop Qimir for a redemption, well at least something like Kylo Rey would happen Although that does not mean that in both cases there is toxicity and manipulation, there is even aggression and that SHOULD NOT BE JUSTIFIED OR NORMALIZED. as has happened lately in SW material

nor deal with the premise of "we are trying to put dark romance in this content" because then that message becomes so repetitive that later it seems as if they were trying to tell us that it is something good, which it is not.

Because Qimir has a much better developed gift of persuasion to convince Osha, more polished than Kylo.

And that's what we think is really screwed with that hypocritical SW fandom that hides behind "there must be variety in the universe, they must let a man and a woman be friends"

It's just that you only like that when the couple is not to your liking, just like Din and Bo katan.

They foamed at the mouth, because "they shouldn't always put a man and a woman together, it's an imposition" when from season 2 they show us that dynamic between them of "enemies then lovers"

but what they really didn't like is that this couple left that level of toxicity that could have escalated due to Bo Katan's small manipulative movements. In season 3 everything was a reboot and redemption, it is obvious that a couple must be healthy for it to prosper!!!

and that's what they don't like, this fandom always takes the worst and enjoys it, it likes morbidity and conflict. That is why they hide that "they are just friends" when season 3 is very evident and their entire relationship is documented as a deeper connection than simple battle companions.

Regardless of whether Din is inspired by Pedro Pascal, of course it is the essence but it is not his tastes or preferences. The fandom gets carried away by their own projections when it suits them.

It seems ridiculous to me that in “Osha Qimir” they like more that level of morbidity that they themselves can develop and well here it is a “man-woman”

so??' Where is the coherence in what they discuss with Din and Bo or even Ezra and Sabine?

It is simply that, their own projections and they believe that with that, the other part of the fandom will be discouraged by something that is very evident that they show us that they want to happen.

Now take Katee's statements, sorry but… she said many things before and the fandom does not forget. He started that game of "it could be, we still don't know" then he took control of this shipment and even talked about material that was eliminated, which did happen and after the actors' strike, everything was silence and retracting what was said, which even Carl himself contradicted…. so???

And Brendan Wayne himself replicated this game and at the end in a certain podcast interview he mentioned how he wanted to interpret Din's feelings towards Bo, as if it were him and his wife.

That even Screen Rant changed everything he said because from the beginning they don't like that Din and Bo are paired together, so they resort to playing dirty and doing ridiculous things like negative publicity for this shipment in their mediocre notes Internet.

The truth is that I find the hypocrisy of that toxic fandom pathetic and sad, especially on Twitter. They are not going to impose their preferences and projections on characters that do NOT belong to them. This is so simple and clear to understand because it is reality.

I just hope that just as they give "Qimir Osha" the opportunity Give it to other couples developing in SW.

Just as it is happening to Din and Bo Katan because they had a great positive change and are standard bearers of an unconventional family but that represents a healthy and strong bond.

I wish Qimir and Osha would allow it. May Qimir develop positive feelings towards her, take care of her and not let his own Sith interests win, may he and Osha not be consumed by the dark side and give us a better ending than Rey and Kylo, ​​because they weren't allowed to; being together.

This is the way.

[vouam]

I'm gonna be honest, telling fat people "Your body is unhealthy, go fix your lifestyle" is not really body neutrality. It's the same thing any random fatphobic person tells us every day.

I get that there's an issue with the body positivity movement relying too much on just sexualizing women. But there's one thing that movement has that I have just never, ever gotten from the body neutrality movement, and that is kindness. The world tells me I'm disgusting and worthless, and the response of body neturality people is, well, very neutral. It's mostly a "Whatever. You shouldn't care about that. Also eat healthier lol".

Body positivity, however flawed it may be, at least shows kindness and understanding. And has the courage to actually disagree and outright say "No, your body is not disgusting. You are allowed to exist the way you are and you can still find love and happiness". Which are extremely normal things to want, but when fat people want them, the body neutrality position say that it's suddenly bad to even say that because it means you're defining your worth via your desireabilty too much and you should just learn to not care that people find you gross and will never want you (and also you should really stop being so lazy and learn some self control when it comes to food).

I hear you, and thank you for sharing your perspective.

I feel like I’ve seen a lot of ‘body neutralist’ conversations being led by gym-bro types that basically just say ‘it’s toxic to say everybody is beautiful, its enabling fat people, they need to just be healthy’ and I really don’t like that because it feels like they’re missing the point of why I like the movement.

While I agree that someones worth and desirability shouldn’t be determined by their size, I would never say that they are wrong for wanting to be loved/desired while being fat.

People have this misconception all the time that overweight/underweight means unhealthy. In extreme cases of course it is, but sometimes people are quick to label someone as unhealthy from just a number on the scales, when in reality everyone is different - you can be ‘overweight’ and healthier than someone who isn’t, the BMI scale is awful 😭 The body neutralist movement would (I guess should, in an ideal world) tell people that they don’t need to change themselves if they don’t look like the typical standard of beauty, and instead the only weight advice would be given by a doctor, asking if someones weight could be causing them problems/worsening problems that are already there. (And yes I’m aware that often doctors do this too much, and ignore other possible factors just because of someone’s weight..)

I’m kind of between two sides when it comes to a lot of things. Like for example I don’t like when the body positivity movement implies that people don’t need to change their body when they are actually unhealthy due to their weight. They would never say it to someone who is underweight due to anorexia nervosa, then why say it to someone who is overweight from a different type of eating disorder. But I say that I’m between two sides because I understand that fat people face a lot more abuse and less compassion/sympathy over their weight than underweight people. Being underweight is often seen as desirable and overweight isn’t. People deserve to always feel kindness no matter their size. And a lot of buddy neutralists need to learn that it is not easy to change your weight, for both mental and physical reasons. They shouldn’t be hounded at for not being the epitome of a healthy body.

I really enjoy this discussion, please feel free (and others who see this too) to share your opinions on this. I’ve never been fat, so I really don’t think I’m the best person to speak about the negative sides of the movement. But of course I would love to hear more, there are probably things I’ve never even thought about.