#and. less bombing of children. that genuinely fucked me up there

[illuxtre]

Between today and yesterday I watched all the hunger games movies for the first time (I had only watched the first one before) and let me tell you I was crying and genuinely horrified and sad by the end of it wow just WOW that was so depressingly realistic yall go there for FUN????

[heniareth]

Anyways, I ran out of tags, so I’m gonna continue this here! :D

The measurements for Spellpower and mana inefficiency are so cool!!! So spellpower basically encompasses the strength and duration of the spell and mana inefficiency the amount of mana lost as light, sound or heat during the casting of a spell? I love it! It really reframes the way we’d approach spellcasting as having a physical component as well as an intellectual one. After all, those measurements look a lot like something you’d see in P.E. classes, less like something from math classes. I’m guessing there’s an intellectual component to it, and having a solid grasp on the theory of how magic and mana and spellcasting works probably makes the spellcasting itself easier, but it’s not the end of it. In DAI, there’s banter between Dorian and Solas were they talk about how they manipulate the Veil to create magical effects and it does sound very hands-on. So I love that the evaluation method reflects that. You could have your standard high school plot of the 2000s-2010s happening at Kinloch Hold. Nerd mage asks Jock mage if they can help them increase their spellcasting prowess and offer to help them with the theory in return! This is amazing and I’m glad the ask gave way to have you figure out these things.

Also Rhodri tutoring the younger kids. It’s nice that, as far away as she was from her family, she got a chance to still live a bit of family life with the younger apprentices (until Broken Circles. Fuck. The templars. And Uldred).

Also also: the Tevinter letterheads. Oooooooh it’s so cool. An all official-sounding paper and it’s a tercet from one spouse to the other. It wamrs my heart. Also, it says a lot that Rhodri would use this sort of paper. I can imagine Dorian using everything BUT paper with that letterhead except when he absolutely has to XD XD XD XD I also love that Owen gets his own letterhead. Every member of house Callistus is important and has their own stationary. Yes, the nine-year-old is included in this, he absolutely needs his own stationary as well. I love that

I’m cackling over here at Zevran not only organizing this whole bet to get his hands on the tercet (which, oh Rhodri XD XD XD XD Don’t tell this man you wrote a love poem only to then not want to show him XD XD XD XD Also RHODRI IS A POET??? RHODRI IS A POET!!! I remember what you said about Tevinter and the arts (namely that Tevinters don’t really do hobbies or arts & crafts since these are things they could very easily purchase) and the fact that Rhodri pens her thoughts down as a poem sometimes, and especially if those thoughts are about Zevran, surely does things to Zevran’s heart)

...

Where was I? Oh yes. Not only does Zevran organize this whole bet to get his hands on the tercet, but he hides grapes in his pockets. Evil, evil man!! I’m guessing Rhodri doesn’t like grapes (or is it a throwback to that time Zevran was bored on the road and started throwing grapes at Rhodri?) Anyways, what a poem. Unflinching devotion paired with a complicated religious life. That Rhodri decides the Maker doesn’t exist so she doesn’t discharge all of her rage and grief over her friends during Broken Circle at him does things to me. It’s heartbreaking (and practical, I guess, but idk. Maybe getting real angry and screaming at the sky would’ve been a bit cathartic?). I hope Leliana (or Wynne) didn’t do too much poking on the matter. But really, how do you deal with this kind of pain when it’s doen by the servants of “your” god who supposedly left the world to its devices because rational beings were too sinful for him? And, and, Rhodri, as the head of a house is in a similar position to the Maker (although on a much smaller scale); and the Maker fails by most of her standards. What kind of person leaves his place as the head of the house bc he just can’t deal with the people he’s leading?

That Zevran’s faith is something she considers admirable though? That. That gets me. Of course, Zevran knows better than to pressure her on the matter, bless him. But... what an example does he have to set, what an experience does he have to communiacte that Rhodri sees something good about worshipping the Maker. It speaks volume about Zevran’s influence on her, the way he lives his faith and the high regard in which Rhodri holds him. I love it. Simply love it. Zevran probably knows Rhodri’s conflict with the Maker, right? That poem must’ve either sent the biggest grin to his face or made him tearful. Maybe both.

Also: Sēvē and Zēvē XD XD XD XD XD XD XD XD XD XD Marvellous! They should get matching shirts XD XD XD XD Or aprons. This whole family has a wicked sense of humor XD XD XD XD XD XD XD XD

Also!!!!!! The gif lets me imagine Owen so well with the mop of ginger hair, quietly working on his plants (what ARE Rhodri’s favorite plants is the question). I hope he and Rhodri get to spend lots of time in the greenhouse once Rhodri gets back.

This was an amazing read!! I apologize for being late in my answer, but my crops have been watered, fertilized, de-weeded and blessed by these lovely codexes. I also haven’t forgotten about the ones you sent me; they’re in the works. Hoooooo boy, so many great things have come out of this XD XD XD XD XD XD Thank you heaps!!

Hello my wonderful and lovely friend!!! I come, as I am wont to do, with questions for splendidissima Rhodri from the OC Codex prompts:

2. a letter written by your OC’s family member

3. a report written by your OC’s teacher or mentor

4. a letter from your OC to their love interest

Now, I don't know if you will spend these days celebrating or not, but they seem to be busy days for anybody regardless. Please take as much time as you like and pick whichever tickle your fancy. And have some lovely, lovely days. Off I go!

OH HI HEY ! 8D 8D Good to see you and thank you for sending in the prompts!! I had such a great time with these, both of my braincells were working overtime and it was a joy!

Owing to spacing and the sheer volume of the answers I'm sticking all this under the cut. I'd apologise but we both know I don't mean it x) x) x)

so o o o 2. A letter written by your OC's family member Here's one from Rhod's younger brother, Owen. Heirs aren't allowed to have favourites, but suffice it to say she and Owen had easy and natural compatibility. He was nine-ish and Rhodri would've been twelve.

The paper is bleached, high-quality Tevinter vellum, bearing a template header in red ink, reading in Tevene rune script, EX SCRIBIO CALLISTANI SPIRI (“From the desk of Spiro Callistanus”). At the top right of the page, the date 13 Justinian, 9:22 Era Drakonis is added in the same wobbly runic script in the rest of the letter. The language of writing is Tevene.

I love you Sēvē,

My birthday was good but sad without you, and thank you for my greenhouse. Mazarin and Evander aren’t allowed inside because they break everything now. Bethann sits with me in there sometimes but not for long. 

School is hard but Tata says it gets easier with time. When you come back we can go together. I think that would make it better. Mazarin and Evander are too loud and they don’t sit with me any more. Do you know any plant spells? Please write all of them down so I can learn them when my magic comes. And please tell me your favourite three plants. Mine are ivy, snake kiss, and butterleaf.

Please write lots more soon.

And I love you, from Owen your brother.

-

Author's notes:

Callistanus- ‘of’ House Callistus, the name given to non-heir family members. An heir is the house, the non-heirs are the members of said house. ‘Callistani is Callistanus in genitive (possessive- I know you know this; clarifying for other potential readers) case. Owen's Tevene name is Spiro, Spiri in genitive form.

The Callistanus/Amell kids did not cope well with Rhodri being taken to the Circle. Not least because they were an arm’s length away when the Kirkwall Templars were beating her to a pulp.  Mazarin and Evander, who already tended to be loud and demanding, became destructive and disruptive, and both of them developed explosive tempers that proved hard to pacify.  Bethann, the youngest and most sensitive sibling, suffered frequent meltdowns that required many years to identify causes for and address.  Owen, the middle child, was always quiet and courteous. The adults in his life, amid attending to his louder, needier siblings, frequently ‘checked in’ on him, and they would have used all the resources they had to attend to any need he might have, but if he said he was doing fine (he always did), they left it at that and assumed he was content to keep to himself. Rhodri had always made a point of keeping him by her side and giving him plenty of one-on-one attention even if he was ‘fine,’ and he soaked that up like a sponge. After she was taken away, though, and the other siblings proved to be very squeaky wheels, there was nobody to fill the gap in those childhood to early teen years. Owen ended up rather neglected, and horribly lonely, and hid it, even lied about it, to everyone but Rhodri for years. Consequently, Owen tends to have a low opinion of himself, and is disinclined to seek out something, however badly he might want it. He does a lot better once Rhodri's back, and certainly once his folks found out (to their unrestricted horror) how neglected he had felt, they did their darnedest to make it up to him as well. But Rhod's return was really what cemented that improvement.

§

On to 3. a report written by your OC's teacher and mentor

I liked this question because I like the idea of there being a very specific, Chantry-determined format to a progress report, filled with formalities that ostensibly show some level of "civility" between the Templars and the mages. Plus, grading system? How do the mages measure success? So many questions!! Thank you for making me think of the answers!! -

The paper is bleached, blank vellum of middle to high quality, with the standard Circle progress report template already written in with black ink. Irving’s handwriting is a neat cursive that is no longer taught in the Circles. -

Date: 7 Eluviesta, 9:21 Dragon

Tutor name and rank: Irving, F.E.

Apprentice name; age; specialisation: Rhodri S. C. Amell// 10 y.o.// Arcane Magic

Progress report number, AYTD: 2

Presenting compliments to the Knight-Commander and having the honour to report:

Following the discovery of lyrium affliction in early Verimensis 9:22, Rhodri Amell has completed three months of compensatory meditation and distraction management training. Spellpower has improved significantly, as has spell duration (Max. 4; 10s per HS); mana inefficiency has also decreased (less est. 2.5, now 5.5). Continuation of the program recommended indefinitely.

Despite her progress, Rhodri’s temper outbursts are increasing in frequency during lessons proper. I reiterate to the Knight-Commander my suspicion that these arise from the elemental damage and consequent pain in her hands from unsafe proximity to trained mana, particularly as her affliction prevents her from wearing the requisite enchanted safety gloves. As per my last reports, I strongly recommend that my apprentice be permitted to use a sylvan branch staff to prevent more of the same; responding to outbursts with punishment has proved manifestly unhelpful and I continue to urge its cessation to the Knight-Commander with the greatest emphasis.

I note that Rhodri continues to tutor beginner students in her free time. E. Delilah has anecdotally mentioned better performance in this cohort in comparison to Delilah’s previous cohort, and has advised willingness to allow my apprentice to shadow her for some classes. With assistance in managing the change in schedule, I anticipate further progress for all concerned.

Reiterating assurances to the Knight-Commander of my highest consideration.

Irving, F.E. 

-

Author's notes on abbreviations and measurements - AYTD: Academic year to date - Spellpower scale is from 0 (not casting) to 10 (Destruction of a single room - HS- healing spell (in this case spell duration measures how long the intended effects persist until the spell is cut off or wears off on its own) - Mana inefficiency scale measures how much unformed mana escapes when a spell is cast, from 0 (no mana lost) to 10 (all, or almost all mana escaped). .

§

And 4: A letter from your OC to their love interest!

The author's notes are long so I'd better just get to it:

The paper is bleached, high-quality Tevinter vellum, bearing a template header in red ink, reading in Tevene rune script, EX SCRIBIO CALLISTI SEVERIN (“From the desk of Severin Callistus”). At the top right of the page, the date 11 Pluitanis, 9:35 Era Drakonis is written in sharp, austere letters, as is the rest of the content. The language of writing is Common, with the exception of the tercet, which is in Tevene.

Dulcis,

I pen this letter to you with all my love and, in adherence to the conditions set by your challenge:

I admit that I stand corrected: pickpocketing is very difficult and is not “something I could do as easily as blinking.” (I will say, however, that hiding grapes in the pocket you were keeping the coins was entirely unnecessary. It feels like those bastard Void fruits are hiding everywhere, now.)

With great embarrassment, I enclose a reproduction of the tercetus I so foolishly admitted to writing and frankly, my love, I am starting to think you organised this whole bet so you could get your hands on it.  . In vitae finite stabit Formator ton, et querisit "A Incredule, quemisi exultum mihim offerti?" Et respondit humilite, "Ton Zevran, Sanctus amade" .

I must say, my love, I’m enjoying writing to you even though you’re right beside me. I think I’d like to do this more often– though hopefully with fewer tercetae. Maybe I could hang short missives off your Friday flowers. What do you think?

Also, please let me know if you would like to go to the Sidereal Telescopium tomorrow. Quirina is giving a speech on the upcoming New Constellations Room, and I have many questions for them.

My whole heart to you,

Severin (Rhodri). -

Author’s notes:

Tercetus- a traditional Tevene-style three-line rhyming poem.

A rough translation: At the end of life I will stand before your Maker, and he will ask me "You, Unbeliever, tell me– what worship did you ever offer me?" And I will say, simply and earnestly, "Holy Immortal, I loved Your Zevran."

Rhod’s got a complicated religious life. She started okay; the family wasn’t especially pious but they did Chantry things at the frequency considered respectable. Once she landed in Kinloch Hold, though, her prevailing question, for which never received a satisfactory answer, was: “If the Maker can do anything, and He loves us, why does he let us suffer? I wouldn’t do that, and I’m a child, nto a god.” After Broken Circle, she refused to believe the Maker existed, as a consolation to herself, and to avoid the sort of vengeful blasphemy that gets you hung, drawn, and quartered. There’s something about Zevran’s patient faith, though, and his willingness to offer thanks that he has what he has, however miserable his life has been. It’s impressively staunch, and Rhodri admires that, and treasures the comfort it brings him, enough that she slowly comes around to her idea of a compromise. Said compromise is acknowledging that if the Maker exists, He is as capable at unleashing bitter cruelty as He is at creating boundless joy. Rhod’s not one to praise bad behaviour in anyone, let alone a god who should know better, but by golly He did everyone a good turn when He made Zevran. Maybe age will bring other wisdom, but for now, she lets her love for Zevran be her tentative worship, because it’s the only praise she can offer in earnest. Though idk, what better compliment is there for a creator than someone wholeheartedly adoring their creation?  I like to think it’s enough for the time being. A religious journey isn’t always straightforward but I always found that complications bring their own insights.

I have no idea why Rhodri signs off her letters to Zevvo as ‘Severin (Rhodri).’ They agreed early on never to use the Tevene name to avoid the ridiculousness that comes with similar-sounding names (it gets especially bad when the siblings give him the Tevene-ised nickname Zēvē when they’re already calling Rhodri Sēvē. Agony!) Same deal with Owen signing off letters to her as “Owen your brother”. Must be hereditary.

Also I'm not sure about how ok it is to use Artbreeder generated images what with the art theft things going around now (I'm not sure where it stands on that sort of thing) so I'll leave out the artbreeder portrait I have of Owen. For a face claim, though, this feller here is pretty close (though I grant you Simon Wood is unlikely to be 9yo in this gif). Token ginger of the Amell-Callistus brood, what's up!

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

Shit just feels so hopeless right now. I've started the works to file a lawsuit for incessant verbal abuse. I have no job, no money, and my father is making my life a goddamn living hellhole all the while.

Meanwhile I keep seeing all the stuff about Gaza, about families in need of escape, of the borders being blocked to escape, of children being massacred and murdered and seeing photos of bombs going off. I see colleges, including the one in my town, being locked down and students arrested, for sending things to Palestine and for protesting the attacks.

And on top of it all, my mother is still very poorly. She's going this weekend to get her next surgery. I've almost lost her 3+ times in 6 months to various cardiac issues.

I'm sitting here miserable that I can't get a job that will accommodate my disabilities, just so my shitty father shuts up and stops abusing the hell out of me verbally and mentally. I'm sitting here watching children die and I'm helpless to do a damn thing about it. I'm sitting here praying every damn day that my mother doesn't leave me because if I'm stuck with just my father I'm never going to make it out alive. And the housing market is horrible, every place is minimum $300k in my state, or is owned and being rented for at least $1200/mo, but the only jobs I can get pay minimum wage or less, and that's not going to make even half of my rent at that rate.

I am miserable. I am tired. I am hurting in every way. I'm done hearing from my father that a job will fix all my problems magically!! No. It won't. Can a job cure lupus? Can it cure arthritis? Asthma? Psoriasis? Anxiety? Depression? PTSD? Chronic illness? Chronic bronchitis? No. It can't do any of that. A doctor can't even cure these. They can help. But a job will by no means help whatsoever to alleviate these issues. I cannot do another retail position, I can't take the verbal and mental abuse from customers. I can't take people shitting on the floor all the time, shoving diapers in the ceiling, being told to watch for thieves when there isn't even enough staff for anyone to leave the register but we somehow have to clean the whole store every two minutes and stock shelves while attending to customers, doing registers, and answering phone calls.

Fuck my life. Fuck me. I just want to lay down and sleep and never wake up again. Genuinely.

[chiropterancreed]

(disclaimer: TERFS/RADICAL FEMINISTS THIS POST IS NOT FOR YOU FUCK OFF!!!) so many people (lots of cis women) are so into true crime. many of my coworkers are and when i asked one (cis woman) why she is, she said she's fascinated by the way murderers think. that's a common theme i think, wanting to understand them. in my opinion, the answer is very simple. the vast majority of murderers are men. we live in a patriarchal society. men murder because they are raised to dehumanize and disregard women. they murder women because the type of men that do don't view us as people. the men that murder other men do it because of internalized homophobia and knowing that (usually) people don't give a shit about gay men and queer people. men murder within their own social groups. the type of people that do this do it because the legal system doesn't care about black women, about sex workers, about gay people, about trans people, indigenous people, and impoverished children. they target vulnerable groups because these groups go historically unprotected. the powers that be don't give a shit about them. so they know they can get away with it, at least for a little while. the only good thing about the modern true crime community, is the exposure and awareness people have developed about these violent crimes. i say this as someone who has lost family to this type of violent crime. i am also partially interested in true crime - not to intense "fandom" levels, but out of general curiosity. the more i learn about these crimes, the less and less i trust cis men. i know that's prejudiced of me, and i know that isn't entirely rational, but the men that commit these crimes are never expected to. they are often normal citizens, perhaps even charming in certain circumstances. the abuse and torment and horror they are able to commit against women is genuinely terrifying. this is one of the reasons i don't want to try dating again. these types of people can be unassuming. they can manipulate the women in their lives to help them pray against other women (one thinks of the woman who helped her boyfriend kill a lesbian they had lured onto a few dates). i just... don't trust people in general anymore. i avoid going too many places out of a sense of paranoia. my local gay club could be bombed. someone could come into my church and shoot the attendees because my local episcopal chapter supports the LGBT community. being an american, i could be shot and killed literally anywhere. i live in a "bad" neighborhood, i could be assaulted outside my apartment on the busy road i live on. like my family member who was killed, i could be kidnapped and murdered and my family left grieving and hoping i'd turn up. the women i know at work have all suffered at the hands of abusive partners. my own mother and other female family members have faced violence and abuse at the hands of their partners. the saddest thing is, i know good men. my grandfather was a very good man and person. the men i work with are good men, respectful and compassionate. i have dated good men. i know they're out there. and that's the saddest thing. that to find good people, a woman has to wade through the shit and the muck that are people who aren't trustworthy - and don't reveal that part of themselves until it's too late. i don't know where i'm going with this. only that TERFS FUCK OFF AND DIE THIS IS NOT FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

[clotpolesonly]

they could have gotten up to so much hi-jinks together 😭 they are both such intensely lonely characters. Ronan said to Hennessy "please don't let me be the only one," and Declan is always surrounded by people and couldn't form a genuine connection with a single one of them. so the thought of them growing up together, sharing this experience, united in it, makes me wanna CRY.

i've got two go-to scenarios to make this fever dream of mine happen 😂 1) he wasn't a dream but he is now, and 2) he was always a dreamer but he never knew

for the first scenario, well, the dreamer secret got significantly less secret after the events of TDT, ya know?? the ley line turning off made a lot of really big waves, and the moderators confirm that the government is aware of dreamers and willing to back organizations working to eradicate them. i imagine they would also be willing to back organizations working to study them. every urban fantasy needs mad scientists!! these ones want to know to what degree dreaming is a heritable trait. if it's a recessive gene or something. if the ability may be latent in children of dreamers who otherwise haven't presented with it themselves. if that latent ability could maybe be activated.

pls imagine Ronan and Hennessy raiding this medical/military facility in the middle of nowhere to rescue Declan who's been kidnapped and speeding away with him thinking they got off scot free until they realize that Declan is dripping nightwash and it's not stopping and that can't be right, it can't be, but it IS, and Ronan has to slap Hennessy's sleep mask on Declan and follow him into a dream and put something in Declan's hand and tell him to bring it back, just do it, i don't care if you think you can't, stop panicking and just fucking do it, do it now please --

and for the second scenario, Declan's always been a dreamer, but for whatever reason, he.....wasn't allowed to be. the most convincing reason i've come up with so far is that Niall intended to suppress Ronan's dreaming. Ronan was the eldritch entity in a human skinsuit, Ronan was the one he was afraid of, Ronan was the one that drove Mor away with his frightening amount of power. if he could just find a way to turn off or dampen Ronan's abilities, it would significantly lower the chances of him dreaming up a nuclear bomb and somehow destroying the world, ya know??

also it's just a LOT to have two toddlers with uncontrollable dreaming abilities, on top of his own barely controlled chaos. they can't go on this way, it's fucking dangerous, so when the medication Niall dreams up for Ronan fails........he tries it on Declan. whatever Ronan IS must be interfering, cuz the meds work just fine on Declan, his natural human son. it's not how Niall wanted to solve this problem, but it's the only option he's got.

and so Ronan is the dreamer of the family and Declan is not. because there's only room for so many in one household. someone has to be stable, someone has to be safe, someone has to be awake to clean up the others' messes. it's the only choice he has. it just works better this way. doesn't it? for everyone.

except for Declan, of course, for whom it fucking SUCKS. and he doesn't find out about his suppressed ability until his prescription runs out and Niall isn't around to dream up any more of it. congratulations, you're a dreamer. which sucks even fucking more after a lifetime of anxiety and envy and resentment.

BUT!! THE BONDING!!!! THAT COMES AFTER!!!!!!

because the brothers are both so goddamn lonely. Ronan has always craved someone like him, someone who can understand him and share in both the horror and the glory of what he (they) can do. and Declan has always just wanted to feel like he belongs. like he is a part of his family and not set apart from it.

i spend a lot of time thinking about Ronan teaching Declan how to dream 🥺 it's so weird cuz there's some instinct, from deep down, to ask Declan to teach him. cuz he's the big brother, ya know? he's the one who always knows everything and has all the answers. and Ronan's been so desperate for a teacher. but he's the one with the experience here, and Declan is looking to him for answers, and that feels really good in its own way. to be needed, respected, acknowledged by the brother whose approval he's always craved (not that he would ever admit as much).

i definitely agree that Declan would not be a flashy dreamer, haha. i can see him as a forger, like Kavinsky but less of an unhinged dick about it 😂 meticulous and careful and controlled, flawlessly recreating whatever he needs to, down to the last nick and scratch and speck of dust. Ronan thinks that's boooooooring, but he can appreciate the craft at least. he spends a lot of time trying to badger Declan into having more FUN with dreaming, come on Deklo, you've got infinite cosmic power at your fingertips, don't you wanna have some fucking FUN?? quit dreaming up staplers and paperwork, you fucking nerd-ass loser alkdfjgh

i'm just obsessed with them ok, i have so many thoughts, i am deeply deeply invested in the whole concept

talk to be about your dreamer Declan au 👀

With pleasure 😈 It's less of an AU and more of a vague string of ideas unattached to any definitive plotline. But I started wondering what makes someone a dreamer, and why the gene would’ve skipped Declan if both his parents were dreamers, which got me wondering about what kind of dreamer Declan would be. He wouldn’t be so reckless as Niall and he'd have more tact than Kavinsky. I kept imagining him as some kind of closet dreamer, meticulous and careful and controlled. He's always been secretive because he was raised to believe that secrets = safety so he practiced in private and taught himself how to dream responsibly.

But then I keep imagining how everything would have been different if Declan had been open about it the whole time. Declan teaching Ronan, the two of them sharing dreams but also like just playing around with it? Seeing who can dream up the weirdest/stupidest thing (Ronan always won).

Declan experiencing the nightwash when he inevitably tries to stop dreaming because he wants to he normal and Ronan freaking out because he thinks his brother is dying. Ronan cleaning him up but admonishing him the whole time.

Ronan and Declan as kids, sneaking around the Barns to go through the dream stuff Niall doesn't want them to see. Ronan and Declan actually bonding and leaning on one another because they trust each other, they're the same.

But then your post got me thinking about involuntarily suppressed dreamer Declan and I'm obsessed with that idea. It makes so much sense and it hurts me so much... Declan eventually being outed as a dreamer, clueless and lost because he'd never been allowed to explore that side of himself. He has to look to Ronan for guidance, he has to figure out how to survive inside his own head again. He would have nightmares for sure, but he'd also, for the first time in his whole life, have dreams.

I'd absolutely love to hear anymore thoughts you have on dreamer Declan if you wanna share!!

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Werewolf: The Apocalypse "Kinfolk: Unsung Heroes" Ch 2, Ch 3, & Ch. 4

"You get good hunches from time to time, and you’ve come to trust them."

"Your instincts often put you on the right trail."

"You always know when something’s afoot."

"Not only do you know when something’s wrong, you know who’s responsible."

"The human world thrives on red tape."

"You can set up meetings with just about anyone, and you have the skills to run a multinational conglomerate with dozens of subsidiaries."

"Audacity, guts, pluck — whatever it’s called, you’ve got it."

"Nope, you’re not worthy. Never have been, never will be."

"Should someone suspect things aren’t as they seem, you could be in big trouble."

"You’re so wrapped up in your own little world, you don’t have a clue about reality!"

"Perhaps you retreat into yourself be cause you’re afraid or avoiding a problem, but more likely, you simply aren’t using your gray cells."

"You’re an intrinsically nice person, and you genuinely care about your fellows."

"A magician’s lifestyle, code of ethics and favored foci all determine how his rituals manifest his power."

"This ability is both beautiful in its own way and quite dangerous to its practitioner."

"My folks eventually forgot about me."

"Becoming a vampire was rough, let me tell you."

"Did I want to die? Hell yes, I did!"

"The implications for genetics are astounding."

"But I need more samples! Think you could help out?"

"You must have done something wrong to be so weak, both in flesh and mind."

"So quickly? It was forever to me."

"Maybe you passed your taint on to your children?"

"I wanted nothing but revenge."

"Go on, take a stand. Show your fury!"

"Ah, the crowd seems to be thinning a bit on the dance ground."

"There are some oaths that cannot be broken."

"Forget the lad."

"Those fucking pansies!"

"Hey, sorry, but I’m a survivor."

"Maybe I didn’t ask to become a walking corpse, but I’ll learn to deal with it."

"The madness in their eyes, the howls of pain, these are the things I love."

"When their fury explodes, my feast shall begin."

"Well, I call them a bunch of idiots."

"I don’t suppose we ought to kill them all, but it’d be nice if we could find a deep pit to throw them into."

"Good fights are lots of fun, and easy victories get boring."

"The world is brutal and cruel, particularly if you’re somehow “different.”

"There’s a lot of work to be done and somebody has to do it."

"They’ll go to jail if they lie, yet they can’t exactly tell the truth, either."

"Will you need maps or floorplans?"

"Not everyone can be a complete saint or a total demon."

"They might face genetically altered horrors or just well-trained agents with big guns."

"Every now and then, a huge fight with some critter is just plain fun."

"Animals are as intelligent as they need to be."

"The vast majority of humans sleepwalk through their lives."

"Don’t make the common mistake and suppose that a wild animal thinks and acts like its domesticated analog."

"Humans label wild animals “unpredictable” because it’s nearly impossible for the average person to ken what the critters are thinking. Most conflicts in human-animal encounters are the result of misinterpretation on either side."

"Just because a weapon or device is nonlethal doesn’t prevent it from causing pain and trauma."

"Costs, styles and voltages vary, but rest assured, most people lose their resolve after getting hit with a taser."

"Concertina wire, or coiled barbed wire, is a nasty addition to normal security measures."

"Contrary to popular belief, silencers can’t really soundproof firearms. They make firing less noisy but never totally silent."

"A remote control triggers the bomb, which is surgically implanted in the skull; it’s guaranteed to kill or permanently impair its target."

"Even “antidotes” for classic poisons like arsenic and cyanide are often poisons themselves; one antidote for strychnine, for example, is succinylcholine, a dangerous paralytic drug similar to curare."

"Many poisons are on the shelves at hardware stores; cationic detergents, methanol, naphthalene (moth balls), potassium permanganate and turpentine. Others, like Barbados nuts, nightshade, or snake venom, might be in the backyard."

"It’s as if they simply vanished into thin air."

[aces-to-apples]

Your Reputation Precedes You

A response to “On Fandom Racism (and That Conlang People Are Talking About)” because lmao that cowardly bitch just hates getting feedback from people that she can’t then harass into oblivion

i.e. God I Wish I Could Use The Tag Fandom Wank Without The Titty Police Nerfing My Post

-

To be frank, I'm not here because I think you or any of your little cronies are going to change your minds. If the 'name' wasn't a giveaway, your group of ~likeminded individuals~ have quite the reputation for espousing ableist, antisemitic, and, yes, racist views under wafer-thin the veneer of "calling out racism." I think we both know that what you're actually doing is using the relative anonymity of the internet and progressive language to abuse, harass, and bully fans that you personally disagree with. You and your group are toxic, hateful, and utterly pathetic, using many peoples' genuine desire to avoid accidentally causing harm and twisting it into this horrid parade of submissiveness to You, The One And Only Arbiter Of Truth And Justice In Fandom. Never mind that you have derided autistic people as lacking compassion and empathy, that you've used racist colonizer dogwhistles to describe a fictional culture based heavily on real live Maori culture, that you've mocked the idea of characters having PTSD, or that vital mental health services are anything more than "talking about your feelings with friends uwu." Let's just ignore that you have ridiculed the idea of adults in positions of power exerting that power over children in harmful and abusive ways, that creating transformative fan-content that doesn't adhere to the spirit of canon or wishes of the original author garners derision and hatefulness from you, and that you've used classic abuser tactics in order to gaslight people in your orbit into behaving more submissively towards you in order to avoid more verbal abuse.

Let's toss all of that crucial context aside in favor of only what you've written here.

What you've written here is nearly 3,000 entire words based on, at best—though, admittedly, based on your previous behavior, I am actually not willing to extend to you an iota of good faith—fallacious reasoning. You posit that a constructed language, to be used by a fictional religious group located in an entirely different galaxy than our own, is othering, racist in general, and anti-Asian specifically. This appears based in several suppositions, the first being that a language unknown by the reader will, by nature, cause the reader to feel alienated from the characters and therefore less sympathetic, empathetic, and caring towards the characters. That idea is patently ridiculous and, I believe, says far more about your ability to connect to a character speaking an unfamiliar language than any kind of overarching truth about media and the human condition. New things are interesting; new things are fun; the human brain is wired from birth to be fascinated with new things, to want to take them apart, find out how they work, and enjoy both the process and the results.

The second supposition this fallacy is based upon appears to be that to move away from the blatant Orientalism of Star Wars is inherently anti-Asian. While I find it... frankly, a little bit sad that you cling so viciously to the Orientalist, appropriative roots of Star Wars as some form of genuine representation, that's really none of my business. If you feel that a Muslim-coded character bombing a temple and becoming a terrorist and a Sith, a white woman wearing Mongolian wedding garb, a species of decadent slug-like gangsters smoking out of hookahs and keeping attractive young women chained at their feet (as it were), a species of greedy money-grubbers with exaggerated features and offensively stereotypical "Asian" accents, and an indigenous people wearing modesty garb based on the Bedu people and treated by most characters as well as the narrative as mindless animals deserving of murder and genocide are appropriate representation of the many, varied, and beautiful cultures around the world upon which they were "based," then that is very much your business. Until you pull shit like this. Until you accuse other fans, who wish to move away from such offensive coding and stereotypes, of erasing Asian culture from Star Wars. Then it becomes everyone's business, especially when you are targeting a loving and enthusiastic group of fans who are pouring their hearts and souls into creating an inventive and non-appropriative alternative to canon.

Which leads into the third supposition, that a patently racist, misogynistic white man in the 1970s, and then again in the 1990s, intended his universe to be an accurate and respectful portrayal of the various cultures he stole from. I understand that for your group of toxic bullies, the term "Death of the Author" holds no real meaning, but the simple fact of the matter is that George Lucas based his white-centered space adventure on Samurai movies while removing the cultural context that gave them any meaning, because he liked the idea of swords and noble warriors in space. He based the Force and the Jedi Order on belief systems such as Taoism and Buddhism, but only on the surface, without putting any real effort into into portraying them earnestly or accurately. He consistently disrespected both characters of color and characters coded to be a certain race, ethnicity, culture, or religion, and likewise disrespected and stole from the cultures upon which he based them. He was, and continues to be, a racist white man who wrote a racist story. His universe has Orientalism baked into its every facet, and the idea that fans who wish to move away from this and interrogate and transform the text into something better than what it is are racist is not only laughable, but incredibly disingenuous and insidious.

As I said, I am not writing this to change your mind, because I truly believe that you already know that "cOnLaNgS aRe RaCiSt" is a ridiculous statement. The way you've comported yourself in fandom spaces thus far has shown to me that you are nothing more than a bully who knows that the anti-racist movement in fandom can be co-opted for your benefit. If you tout your Asian heritage and use the right language, make the "right" accusations and take advantage of white guilt and white ignorance, you can have dozens of people falling at your feet, begging for forgiveness, for absolution. And I think that gives you a thrill. So, no, none of this will change your mind because none of this is genuinely about racism—it's about power, it's about control, it's about fandom being the only space where you have some.

So I'm writing this for the creators of this wonderful conlang, which has been crafted by multiple people including people of color, who don't deserve this nonsensical vitriol, and for the fans reading this manipulative hate-fest, wondering if they really are Evil Racists because they don't participate in fandom the way you think they should.

Here it is: fandom has a lot of racism, antisemitism, misogyny, queerphobia, ableism, etc. baked into it. Unfortunately, such is the nature of living and growing up in societies and cultures that have the same. The important thing is to independently educate yourself on those issues and think critically about them—not "think critically" as in "to criticize" them, but to analyze, evaluate, pick apart, examine, and reconstruct them again in order to come to a well thought-out conclusion. Read this well-articulated attack on a group of fans who have always welcomed feedback and participation, are open about their backgrounds, their strengths and weaknesses, and wonder who is actually being genuine.

Is it the open and enthusiastic group who ask for the participation of others in this labor of love? Or is it the ringleader of a group of well-known bullies who have manipulated, gaslit, and then subsequently love-bomb people who did not simply roll over at the slightest hint of dominance? The ones who spent hours upon hours tearing apart, mocking, deriding, and falsely accusing authors of fanworks and metatextual works of various bigotries and -isms, knowing that those evaluations were spurious and meant only to cause harm, not genuine examinations of the works themselves or even presumed authorial intent. The ones who made their own, quote-unquote, community so negative and toxic that even after the departure of a large portion of them, including this author in particular, that community still has a reputation for being hateful, toxic, and full of mean-spirited harassers who will never look critically about their own behavior but only ever point fingers at others. The ones who are so very determined to cause misery wherever they go that as soon as their usual victims are no longer immediately available, they will turn on each other at the slightest hint of weakness.

This entire piece of (fan)work is misinformed at the most generous, disingenuous at the most objective, and downright spiteful when we get right into it. The creators of Dai Bendu, along with various other works, series, and fan events that these people personally dislike, have been targeted because it is so much easier to harass, bully, and use progressive language as a weapon against them, than it is to put any effort into making fandom spaces more informed, more positive, more respectful.

As someone rather eloquently put it, community is not a fucking spectator sport. You want a better community, you gotta work at it. And conversely, what you put into your community is what you'll get out of it. This author and their friends have put a lot of hate into their communities, and now they're toxic cesspools that people stay well away from, for fear of contracting some terrible form of harassment poisoning.

Congrats, Ri, you've gotten just what you wanted: adoring crowds listening to you spout your absolutely heinous personal views purely to live out some kind of power fantasy, and the rest of us staying well away, because fuck knows nothing kind, helpful, or in good faith has ever come from Virdant or her echo-chamber of petty, spiteful assholes.

No love, bad night.

P.S. Everyone actually in the Dai Bendu server knows your ass got kicked because you didn’t say shit for a full thirty days and ignored the announcement that inactive members would be culled. You ain’t cute pretending like it’s because you were ~*~Silenced~*~ after ~*~Valiantly~*~ attempting to call out racism. We see you.

[aimeelouart]

Ok I've spent a few months lurking and just being a lil too nervous to ask about The Royal House Perdel, but now that I've read the premise ohmygod I love it. I would pay actual money to read it as a book one day.

WHAT. You’re my favorite now. I love you. Take my firstborn.

Since I assume you’re also here for FF7, have a little gift writing of my protag at age 7 hopping dimensions and interacting with the SSC Firsts.

They should have known something was off when they were able to corner Cloud so quickly, but they definitely figured it out when he started giggling.

“Cloud…?” Sephiroth asked cautiously, crouched a short distance from him.

“Pfft, ahaha, your faces!” He said, pointing and covering his mouth with the other hand. Bright orange-red bled out from the root of his hair, spreading down as the strands lengthened and curled. He grew a little taller, a little ganglier, and his face…

Not his face. That wasn’t Cloud at all, though how the laughing girl had accomplished such an effective disguise was a question for another time.

“Who the hell are you!” Genesis exploded. “Where is Cloud!”

“He’s busy,” the little girl said, breaking off her laughter to stick out her tongue at them. “Meanie. He’s following a Virtue! You can’t interrupt that!”

Sephiroth growled, standing up. “Genesis, with me. Angeal, start a conference call. We will begin where we lost Cloud.” He and Genesis darted off, leaving Angeal with the strange new child.

“Wonderful,” he sighed, pulling out his PHS and doing as Sephiroth had commanded. “Another one.” He caught the girl’s arm when she nonchalantly tried to waltz past him. “And where do you think you’re going?”

She blinked. “That way,” she said, pointing.

“Not when you’ve⁠—is that Cloud’s hair?” There was a tuft of pale golden hair clenched in her hand.

“Duh,” she said, “that’s the rule for the spell. ‘A dear thing, freely given. Closer to the skin, more power riven.’”

Angeal struggled to parse through the bewildering statement. “Because Cloud gave you his hair, you were able to...cast a spell to look like him?” He tilted her arm, looking her over for materia, but saw nothing. “Where’s your materia?”

She blinked at him. “What’s materia?”

He decided to abandon the line of inquiry entirely. “Where are your parents?”

Her expression turned sheepish. She scuffed the toe of her sandal across the concrete. “Umm...Granda’ is gonna come find me soon...I’m probably in trouble.”

For the first time, Angeal noticed the glittering jewels held in the intricate lacework of her sandals. They certainly weren’t materia, but they did tell him that her parents must have been very wealthy. “And why are you in trouble?”

She flushed and looked away. “I’m not s’pposed to go through the Gates…” she mumbled.

“The gates?”

“The Gates Between. The ones that cross the Empty Spaces.” She stared down at her feet, and nervously plucked at the hem of her skirt. “Granda’ can open the Gates cuz he’s Imperator, and I can cuz I’m a Mage but he says I’m too little. I’m not supposed to be here, but...but it was calling me! I had to!” She looked up at him with wide, unnatural golden eyes and a pleading little pout.

He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

⁠—

Genesis took one look at the little redhead sleeping contentedly against Angeal’s shoulder and said “no, no, we already have one, put that back.”

Angeal looked tired and a little defeated, leveling Genesis with an unimpressed glance. With Cloud in the wind, all they could do now was wait for some sign of his whereabouts—probably in the form of demolished ShinRa property. Which left them to deal with everything else for a while instead.

“Believe me,” he said, “I’m not particularly happy about this either. But her parents are impossible to find. She doesn’t exist in any records—and I do mean any records. Even the Turks can’t find anything. And I can’t exactly just leave her with someone.”

Genesis narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

“She has...abilities. You saw the disguise earlier, but there’s more.” He looked vaguely disturbed, glancing down at the kid like she was a ticking bomb. “A lot more.”

Sephiroth sighed. “Naturally. That seems to be the theme lately, strange children with inexplicable abilities showing up on our doorsteps.”

Finally, a hint of humor broke through Angeal’s tiredness. “Well, look on the bright side. At least this one actually trusts adults.”

“Too much, if she’s sleeping in your arms two seconds after meeting you,” Genesis scoffed.

“The polar opposite of Cloud,” Sephiroth observed, a little bit of humor entering his tone as well.

Angeal shook his head. “Her parents have the resources to keep her very sheltered, from what I’ve gathered. She seems to think that all adults are inherently trustworthy, especially if they, and I quote here, ‘look like they belong in Mama’s First Legion.’”

Genesis and Sephiroth both paused.

“That...makes it sound as if her parents have a personal militia at their disposal,” Genesis said.

“Yeah,” Angeal agreed wryly, “it does, doesn’t it?”

—

She was like a spot of sunshine in the interview room—not an interrogation room, though it did have a one-way mirror and an attached observation space—beaming up at Tseng as she sat on her knees in the chair across from him. Unsurprisingly, the Turks hadn’t exactly had a booster seat handy with their typical interview equipment.

“What’s your full name?” Tseng asked, soft and polite. It was only Angeal’s familiarity with the young man that allowed him to detect the very slight edge of unease in his smile.

Angeal could understand. It wasn’t often that even he was presented with such unconditional trust and guileless curiosity, and the Turks certainly must have experienced it much less.

The little girl opened her mouth and proceeded to deliver an extremely well-rehearsed answer. “Ameliora Octavia, First Mage of the House Perdel, Blessed of the Thirteen,” she rattled off cheerfully, “Crown Princess and heir to the Perdelesian Throne, granddaughter of the Virtuous Emperor Celsus Caesar Perdel and the Virtuous Empress Julia Atossa Perdel, daughter of Caius Julius Perdel, High King of the West, and Fera Tullia Perdel, High Queen of the East.” She gasped in a breath, having spent her entire lung capacity on the extended answer. “You can call me Lora, though, I don’t mind.” She resumed beaming at him.

Even Tseng didn’t seem to know what to say to that.

Then Lora frowned abruptly. “Oh wait, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

Tseng managed to get ahold of himself. “Why is that, Lora?”

She looked up at the ceiling as if trying to remember something. “Granda says that, uh, if I’m ever with strangers I’m supposed to...uhm...tell them ‘Lora’ but nothing else and wait until one of the Praetorians comes to get me.”

“I see. Lora, do you know where you are?”

“Nope!” she said, apparently unbothered by this fact.

“Do you know how you got here?”

“Uh-huh, I opened the Gate in the Archive because it was calling to me in the Strings, and then I walked the Empty Spaces until it felt right and now I’m here.”

Angeal glanced discreetly at the other Turks in the observation room. None of them seemed to know what the hell she was saying either, which was very reassuring.

Tseng looked like he wanted to sigh but restrained himself. “Do you know how to get back home?”

For the first time, Lora flushed crimson and ducked her head. “Umm...nooo…”

“No?”

“‘S why I’m gonna be in trouble...I know how to walk through the Empty Spaces but I dunno how to walk back yet…Granda will come find me, though.”

“How will he know where to find you?”

She blinked at him, and for a moment her unnatural golden eyes glowed like they had a SOLDIER’s mako gleam. “Granda will always find me,” she said. “He swore on the Thirteen the day I was born. ‘Sides, I’m a Mage. Magistra Mara says I look like a supernova when she uses the Strings to see me.” She smiled. “I’m hard to miss.”

“I see,” said Tseng, which was a bald-faced lie. “How old are you, Lora?”

“Seven and a quarter,” she said very seriously.

—

“Hey.” A little hand tugged on the bottom of his jacket and Reno practically jumped out of his skin. Shiva, it was the tiny unnatural demon child. With trepidation, he half-turned and looked down at her.

She was beaming up at him like he’d just given her the best gift in the world. He was absolutely certain that if he picked her up she would snuggle into his arms without a second thought.

It was hands-down the creepiest fucking thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“What,” he bit out, anxious to get away without looking like he was getting away. He could feel Rude laughing at him silently.

“C’mere,” she said, motioning him down. Reno glanced at her babysitter of the hour—Hewley—whose mako eyes promised death if he dared to scare or upset her. Reno weighed the odds for a long second and then slowly crouched.

Immediately, she buried her hands in his hair and started petting and patting, a puzzled little furrow to her brows. “Hey,” he said, jerking back a little, “what do you think you’re doing!”

“I’ve never seen hair like this,” she responded, peering closer.

“You have red hair,” he pointed out, growing increasingly uncomfortable. He could kill her a dozen ways with barely a flick of his hand and she was playing with his hair?

It was unnatural!

“Nuh-uh, my hair’s gold-red and and curls. Yours is all sticky-uppy and looks like an apple.”

“Well, that’s just how it was when I was born!”

“Oh. Huh.” Apparently that was enough for her. She released his hair and looked to Rude instead and Reno felt exactly zero shame for how fast he got up and moved out of range of her creepy, sunshiny eyes.

She motioned Rude down in the same way. He went, a lot more willingy than Reno had, even though Reno knew for a fact that is partner was also pretty fucking creeped out by her. All the Turks were. There was no one—no one—who had ever treated them with such unconditional trust. The little princess was genuinely happy to see them. Even Tseng was freaked out. Even Veld was, though he took it in stride like he did everything else.

Lora plucked the sunglasses right from Rude’s face and put them on. Her mouth made a little ‘o’ of surprise.

“Why would you want dark glass over your eyes?” She asked, holding them in place and looking around curiously.

Without missing a beat, Rude pulled a spare set of sunglasses out of his suit pocket and put them on. Lora giggled. Reno shamelessly abandoned his partner and speed walked away.

—

“Hello, my dear.”

Lora looked up, blinking at the strange man who’d addressed her. “Hello,” she said cheerfully. She was, technically, breaking the rules by wandering around like this, but she was just so curious. There were so many strange things in this place! And sometimes breaking the rules led to wonderful things, like coming here.

“Would you like to see something interesting?”

She gasped in delight. “Yes! What is it?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you,” he said, offering a hand. She took it without hesitation. It was weirdly cold. The man reminded her of her uncle Brutus, who stared at her all the time and Mama always glared at. Uncle Brutus was weird.

She remembered that she actually had to introduce herself here, because people didn’t automatically know her name. “I’m Lora, what’s your name?” she said.

The man smiled. “You can call me Professor Hojo, my dear.”

[Part 2]

[arcticdementor]

Other possible Holocausts: why pro-lifers are lying to us, and why thats a good thing

…

Ive had a running argument over the past few years that the raw lack of anti-abortion terrorist action proves no one really thinks abortion is murder, ie. intentional 1st degree murder of a life equal to yours or mine.

Ive always gotten pushback to quote WillyWang:

The "revealed preference" of those that oppose abortion but don't firebomb clinics and kill doctors? It won't help, you'll be made an example of in the negative sense, and civilized norms are more important than a useless symbolic point. One clinic destroyed won't end abortion, after all.

From which this Effort-post got its Genesis:

Would you say the same about those who participated in the french resistance or Warsaw Ghetto rising to Nazi Germany?

Everyone of those claims applies there: they were likely to be made examples of, they were damaging civilized norms, and any given action had relatively little to no impact.

Yet the same people who insist abortion is murder, and thus that America is committing a holocaust, yet denounce any of the people who employed violence against abortion doctors or clinics, and can’t distance themselves fast enough from any call for violence... none of those people apply the same logic to the first holocaust. None of them say the frenchmen who bombed german police stations where dangerous terrorists who deserved their executions, none of them denounce the Warsaw ghetto rising as an attack on civilization.

…

If anti-abortion advocated genuinely believed a fetus was a equivalent human life to yours or mine or the little kids they see walk to school, and that this was an ongoing holocaust of American Children at a scale possibly 10x or more what was done to the jews... they wouldn’t need to come up with ad hoc reasons why they don’t resort to violence, their mind would be screaming at them to take bloody vengeance 24/7 in righteous outrage, demanding that oceans of blood and fire be unleashed that it might wash clean the horror, that nuclear fire would be be an acceptable emergency shut off to end such wanton and cruel slaughter... and if thinking through all the logic they concluded that no violence wouldn’t help and they must pursue some peaceful negotiation to stop the slaughter, then their minds recoil and call themselves cowards and the moment of coming to that conclusion would be an ongoing trauma they’d carry with them for the rest of their life, even if they knew they were 100% right. They would meet the “pro-choice” and barely be able to conceal their desire to see them dead or imprisoned... they would meet women who had had abortions and scream bloody murder at them and tell them they deserve the death penalty, the way many of the same people react when presented with women who’d murdered their children, but after their children had left the womb.

The people who were jailed for assassinating abortionists, or fire-bombing clinics would be folk heroes lionized in songs and crowd funded hagiographic documentaries and folk traditions, like John Brown, or John Wilkes Booth, or Louis Reil, or Saco and Vancety, or Huey Newton, or Malcolm X, or David Koresh, or Levoy Finecolm... or hell even just Jesse James, or Killdozer.

Americans abort on average 1 million plus babies a year... that means if abortion is murder and those are human lives, then the 50 years since Roe vs.Wade has been a worse crime than the holocaust, slavery, or the crimes of Stalin, and we’d have to consult a historian to see if they were worse than Mao (on a per capita basis, certainly)...

This would be the worse crime ever commited, the greatest mass slaughter ever perpetrated in human history, and 50 years later our society would remain committed to repeating it in the next 50 years.

If that does not demand violence, then nothing in human history ever has, no even defensive war has ever been justified, and only Jainists and Jehovah’s witnesses are morally acceptable actors. An extreme unexceedable pascifism we know the vast majority of anti-abortion advocates do not endorse, since they overwhelming supported or at-least did not conspicuously oppose the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan (over a mere 3000 Americans dead, and a less than a years abortions worth of Iraqis killed by Saddam) and continue to conspicuously “Support our troops” troops that exist to carry out violence, despite their moral commitments saying they can apparently never in human history be justified.

.

When i say this proves “Pro-lifers” clearly do not believe a fetus is an equal human life, thats me being incredibly charitable. That is me extending a overwhelming large olive branch, that is me expressing a stupendous care and concern and sympathy and brotherly love to rival the best 19th century dinner host, the dearest of friends, a benevolent older sibling, a lover, a parent, a mother who on hearing the taped confession of her son to serial murder, doesn’t hesitate once before screaming “you monsters you’ve drugged and tortured him! What threats have you made to my grandchild! He would only say such things to save his daughter’s life!”

My claiming they are full of shit and lying to themselves, to you, and to me, is an expression of love and faith in my fellow man which until now I did not realized I possessed nor was capable of...

Because if I merely took them at their word? If I believed that they believed what they say they believe? They would be monsters.

.

Lets play a game called “Other Possible Holocausts”. Approximately 800,000 babies where aborted this year.

Lets imagine the US government has just announced that crime has gotten to cumbersome and that over the next 3 years it plans to execute every single one of the 2.4 million people in US prisons jails and Jeuvenile detention centres.

Lets imagine that to reform education, the US resolves to kill the bottom 1% of all 80 million students in the country based on an age adjusted standardized test every year.

Lets imagine hatred of the obese takes off, and a policy is passed to resolve America’s 30% obesity rate by the mass instituting of bounties on hunting and killing the obese... that every year 800,000 to 1.5 million tags will be issued for a fee to allow the hunting of the obese in return for monetary rewards on successful hunts and getting to keep the carcasses for meat base animal foods and the manufacture of fuel, or fat based household products. These bounty hunters become known a “whalers”.

Lets imagine the US announces its done with African Americans... if the problem hasn’t been solved since 1619, its not going to be... and so they’re going to genocide all 40 million African Americans at a rate of 2% a year, for the next 50 years.

Lets imagine opposing extremists get in charge and decide the racists rednecks have to go, and so they’ll be forming death squads to roam the South, Appalachia, and the rust belt, with the objective of killing 800,000 poor whites a year, “until the problem is solved”... with many happily stating 50 years of this would be acceptable, while others state it’d be perfectly fine to renew it another 50 years after that.

…

These are all American lives, and according to pro-lifers of equal moral value to the babies aborted every day, no better, no worse.

By saying this and by saying violence is not and cannot be justified to resist it, they are saying that their reactions to any one of the above eventualities would be to continue to live their lives as they have lived the past 50 years.

I do not know how to respond to that. Even if Abortion is truly murder of an ensouled equal human life... The Pro-choicers committing the murders don’t think it is... hell the Nazis murdered 6 million jews and a further 5 million undesirables, but they didn’t think of them as human, they thought they were monstrous and “life unworthy of life”, like a burning man begging you to shoot him so he doesn’t suffer or hurt his fellows... a mercy in a way.

Pro-lifers on the other hand claim these are equal viable human lives of equal status to yours or mine or perhaps even greater.... They’re Children.

And their reaction to the greatest mass slaughter in human history, the reaction of almost half the electorate, who regularly talk about the need to resist tyrrany and defend the weak (as both left and right in the US do, in their way), their reaction is to vote every 4 years, and have it perhaps not even be the #1 issue if the economy seems bad, they have the opportunity to vote for the first black president, or the Orangeman says something crude about Mexicans... they won’t be single issue voters even when it comes to the greatest crime ever committed in human history?

.

I refuse to believe it. Even I, cynical as I am, have to believe we are not that far gone, and the age of men has not come crashing down... i would believe the US capable of such a crime, but to believe that a double digit percentage of Americans could look at that, recognize the victims as their fellow humans,recognize their state and society as committing mass murder of their neighbours, future friends, and relatives...to recognize that they have a moral imperative to act on this... and then just go “welp them’s the breaks, gotta be civilized” because 9 people in black robes said it wasn’t murder?

Holy fuck. No that is not how people work, that is not how humans behave, I cannot accept that, and leftists who spent the summer rioting in response to fewer than a thousand police killings of black men a year, who remember the civil rights and anti-war movements, who kinda vaguely recall that they’re supposed to remember Huey Newton, or Saco and Vanseti, or those Rossen...something people... who like to imagine they’d have been abolitionists in the 19th century. They’re right to call bullshit.

They’re right to call the pro-lifers liars who don’t believe their own messaging, and instead just want to control women’s bodies, after a lie like that to their face, they’re right to treat them with scorn.

…

Pro-life is rescuable as a sentiment and an activist movement...

But not while it claims a Holocaust is going on and somehow magically no violence could ever be justified to resist it, thus lining up all the arguments that will allow the next holocaust to be committed without resistance.

There have been a double digit, perhaps even a triple digit number of mass murders and genocides in the hundreds of thousands or millions of people, since the 20th century. America is enabling its ally Saudi Arabia to commit one against the Yemenis right fucking now.

We need to be very fucking clear about what it is justified to do to members of a regime that commits such a crime, and what it is definitely justified to do to the immediate perpetrators of the murder. And That we will back violent resistance to such a horrible crime by the state even if it serves only to make the resister a martyr we’ll praise, or it degrades “civilization” (what civilization could remain in such a regime?), or it ultimately has no effect (it is on the survivor to try harder)... The major members of the House of Saud deserve the Gallows under international law for what they’re doing in Yemen , as do their American attaches and core enablers... and if that comes from a Judge in the Hauge or from a convoy of irregulars in pickup trucks, or from lone assassins who manage to get through to them, It is justice, and i will praise it.

What we cannot do is pretend that genocides and mass slaughter on unconscionable scales are occurring and then come up with excuses for why we should do nothing and anyone who does resist is a criminal. Or else those excuses will be the ones that allow the next real genocide in the west or on US soil to actually happen.

If there is a genocide or democide or whatever you want to call mass slaughter. You must recognize the justice the violent resistance to it, even if you personally do not participate, or you must admit you were lying about there being such a crime... to say otherwise, to say a state can commit such a crime and still retain its right to your loyalty, to say a people up to and including its victims must obey such a thing, a creature made of bureaucracy that has set its sights on massacring humans by the thousands if not millions... it is to side against the human race in a war of extermination.

And as someone whose pro-choice as they come, I’d much rather, if the pro-lifers really believe its murder, I’d much rather they start a bloody civil war, than for it to become the norm that that is ethically acceptable.

[editorialsonlife]

Well

Welp, feeling like doing an update because there's been a lot going on to be honest. its one of those weird dichotomies where every day feels like an eternity and there's so much going on and then you look back and you're like oh, ok its just my brain making it difficult and making things take forever but anyway.

LOCKDOOOOOOOWWWWWWNNNNNNN

Lockdown life was good, apart from being thrust into it so suddenly dave left a banana on his desk. Wasn't great to come back to after 5 weeks out of the office - mummified mouldy banana!! Classic. We luckily got our first jab before lockdown started so that was good, and we were reasonably well stocked up on food and were generally a lot healthier this lockdown that last. honestly, there's a level of chill and serenity in lockdown that i just love. the ability to set my own schedule and only work the hours I actually work to get the job done? Amazing. getting 8.5 hours of sleep each night without having to wake to an alarm blaring? AMAZING. getting to go for walks every afternoon? SO FLIPPING GOOD. I love it so much, I really really do. I need this to be my life permanently.

WORK

Work is just ongoing and draining and honestly, coming back to the office was so fucking stressful and it was only one day. Being at home is just the fucking bomb. Pending home decisions, I wanna go contracting I think, but also ideally two part time contracts to have more flexibility? I dunno. You'd think a big 4 would provide variety but it really doesn't and honestly, with Richie leaving, wellington is just a sinking ship. Sean's off on parental leave, Kirstyn is down to four days a week, ben will be gone if he doesn't get promoted (and I don't think he will be tbh). Jack is just muddling along, Nigel wants to swap to consulting as well, Matt's going to be a shit leader in terms of bringing in work so it's just not going to work. and in our wider group it's going to get even more messy with heaps of the analysts leaving and a couple of senior hires too. so I think it's probably time to jump ship in general, pending the home stuff below. Also, coming back after a break again, I'm like, I don't actually like a lot of you? All the people I enjoy here are in other teams and groups, and I'll be sad to leave you all, but like, not enough to stay anyway lol.

Pending the home below, two options are to just going and get a job with a $30k payrise to make up for the maternity leave benefits I'm gunna leave behind when I leave this role - 18 weeks full pay, $100 a week for the first year back and a full year of maternity leave. It's basically 30k post tax which is a bit nuts to walk away from to be honest.

Otherwise the other option is to go contracting. Less security overall but holy shit so much money. If I went in as a project coordinator at the lowest rate to build up a bit of a portfolio I'd need to work 40 weeks of 40 hr weeks and Id basically match my current salary plus the lost family leave benefits and still qualify for govt maternity leave payments. Realistically I could go in as a project manager for $140 an hour ($60 more an hour than the above math) and absolutely smash it at that level as well so ya know, there's a bunch of other info. I like the idea of the flexibility of it and only having 6 months even if its a shitshow and beign able to walk away at the end of it. I really don't want to get a govt job and this is a v govt town which is fine but also, if I can avoid it that would be great. I just know I'm not gunna thrive in that environment.

Need to talk to Dave to get him across the line on the security issue part of that though. I've mostly come a long way in terms of my financial management (thanks YNAB) so I think he'd be ok with it mostly.

So there's a lot to toss up there because......

HOME

We got the reno plans done during lockdown, finally. which was super good. but holy fkn jesus $$$$$$ ++++++++++. The guy is coming around for the final quote on Thursday. We indicatively said $100k total because we're doing kitchen laundry bathroom and toilet. so only the most expensive rooms and when I was talking to him last week he said 'that might cover it' and they're seeing cost escalations of 7-10% a week which is just insane. we're not doing anything structural apart from putting in a cavity slider in the bathroom, and the quote they'll give us won't include flooring since they won't do it.

Meanwhile, the prefab homes I were looking at for our site were $425k fully done. Like, I'm not going to spend $130K on doing up my 1940s ex state house ya know? That's not good cost benefit ratio.

So depending on what that comes out at on thursday we'll be able to make some plans.

We also want to start trying for kids next year and need these renos done first - I am not having kids and no dishwasher lol.

Also we need bank financing so good to be in a permanent stable job for that application. the good thing is we have so much equity we know we can borrow whatever we need, I just don't want to spend that much money on it because it's fkn ridiculous. and if I'm going on maternity leave we need to be able to cover it all on dave's salary and whatever benefits I have as well so there;s a lot of financial planning and spreadsheeting going on at the moment lol. it's fab.

either way. we've got plenty of options up our sleeve. we've got friends who's brother owns a building company so we can talk to them, we've got the garage so we can get things prefabricated even if they're not installed til next year, Dave can get shit at cost through his work for whiteware, there;s plenty of things to like cost control we can do, we just need to know where we're starting from basically. thats the challenging part. but we'll figure it out, its just taking longer than I want it to basically.

We also planted up the vege garden for the spring/summer which was lovely, super jazzed about that. we've finally got the garden to a reasonably low maintenance level where everything is mostly under control and it's such a relief, honestly.

PERSONAL

Man what a shift to lockdown last year honestly. I think the last 8 weeks in particular has just been like, a massive reality check of how absolutely shit the last year was and how fucking glad I am to be rid of it. I spent a week absolutely spiralling 2 weeks ago now and honestly, I don't know how I lived in the state for more than a year. I actually don't know how I did it. and I could not be more glad that I'm finally on the other side of it, for the most part. There's still a bunch of other stuff to work through (hahahahahaha when is there not like damn) but fucking hell its nice to just not be anxious and nauseous and wound up constantly. life is actually accessible. miracle.

My workmate had his bebe - I went round and got newborn cuddles and was like, oh, is this what it is to be clucky? this is odd. so there's that as well. I think we'll probably start trying next year pending renos and jobs etc. If the renos can be done in jan I'll prob just stick it at the job to get the benefits but I dunno. it's a tough call to make really. we shall see. This all assumes we get knocked up without any issues which is questionable these days. I really want to feel healthier before getting pregnant as well, and part of that is losing weight. however, given discussing that is what triggered the spiral we're working on that one slowly.

Also, lets have a moment for counselling, because fkn bless anne and all her hard work honestly. I actually ended up emailing her being like, I;m losing my shit on the monday and then talked to her on thursday. And its so funny because it's such a counselling thing but I didn't realise until afterwards what she'd done but she was like you're clearly not doing well and then the night before dave got a fkn miserable migraine and he was up for like, 2 hrs powerchucking except he didn't make it to the bathroom in time so guess who was cleaning up vomit at 130am trying not to chuck herself but I digress. anyway, not doing well, couldn't even explain why, didn't even have words and super tired and she's like, what lynaire up to this week how's she going with izzy and chat about that and then be like how are you feeling about your body and then 5 more mins of chat about the cat and the chickens and then like bam hard question and then hows it going with x and y and z and its like, it wasn't til I was on my walk afterwards when I FINALLY started feeling marginally better I was like damn woman work your magic for figuring it out for me and helping me reregulate. all over the phone as well since we were still in lockdown. GREAT WORK FRIEND.

and then last week was like totally fucked theoretical discussion about religion and the role it's played in my life and fate vs free will and all this nutty shit but genuinely just a great discussion. She's the best and I love her. thank good for good counsellors. thank god I can afford to pay for it honestly.

Dave and I are just chugging along, god bless that man. I love him. its amazing. I miss having friends close by but understand why they had to move (boooooo f u house prices). Family is pretty chill, still not really talking to dave's parents which is nightmarish but we'll deal with that when we need to. gunna have to go and visit them at some point coz dave misses them and I feel for him, I really do. It's the whole boundaries renegotiation I went through with my family last year post wedding blow up and its just not a fun place to be. oh well. can't fix it for him but also I'm not putting up with that level of BS from either of our families once we have children. not gunna happen.

Either way, life is busy and full and fun and I'm enjoying it. Daylight savings starts this weekend too, its october next week WTF and I'm just waiting for 4pm to find out what's gunna happen to our girls trip. Clearly we cancelled our sept trip to christchurch and akaroa and hanmer springs so my covid travel curse continues. fkn ridic. Still dunno what we're gunna do with $2500 of flight credits coz if we get knocked up theres def no international trips happening any time soon.

thus concludes the almost 2000 word write up of life. hope you've enjoyed it. I'll throw up some pics in a separate post if people care about reno plans. such a good time!

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 69 (Nice) Rundown

Code Geass: So this episode is kind of a ride, like fuck. We kinda yadda yadda how Lelouch fucking escaped from Nunally’s sinking airship and just have Rolo sitting over him in bed kind of conflicted that he’s still stuck on his old little sister, so therefore he programs the tvs in Lelouch’s train to blast Nunally’s appointment but it’s funny because he probably didn’t even have to do that because directly after that Lelouch runs into the station and Nunally shit is just everywhere, like I get it’s a metaphor but it’s just funny that Rolo had to plan for him to run into something Nunally-related only for him to run out of the plan and run into ten times more Nunally shit. Then we get Kaguya claiming herself, Kallen and CC as Zero’s harem directly followed by a depressed Lelouch hypnotizing a bunch of street punks to exercise, about to do drugs and asking to fuck Kallen, like this episode is fucking ridiculous and parts are hilariously contrived, thankfully Kallen slaps the shit out of him and Rolo’s like “yo bro we don’t need that bitch, come on and live it up in this ridiculously racist system and the one place where it’s slightly less racist with me” and then they go back to school and have the “Happiness is Like Glass” scene which is genuinely amazing and moving, like for all the weird zany stuff that happens in the first part of this episode, this is a little oasis of pure sincerity and quality where Lelouch makes a promise he knows he won’t be able to keep. Inspired by this amazing moment, Lelouch returns to the Black Knights with the thought of “Maybe there are other reasons to destroy an oppressive dictatorship aside from my one ridiculously crippled sister” which he probably should’ve thought of before. And then he defeats Suzaku’s navy with the power of FUCKING BUBBLES, like yeah, this episode is right back to being crazy ridiculous but Lelouch is back and wants in on Nunally’s special zones… okay, phrasing.

Inuyasha: So we open with a scene of Kagome playing cards with Miroku which is genuinely adorable if pointless, but it just makes me laugh that Miroku and Sango seem to know all the rules of the game but are still stumped when Kagome tells them they’re Playing Cards, probably a culture thing. Anyway, Inuyasha has to kill a Barrier Demon to get the power to break barriers, which is a bit of a conundrum because Barrier Demons have, you know, barriers, which Inuyasha currently cannot break. Worse still said demon is a little girl and a half-demon like Inuyasha which understandably puts him in quite a quandary. Inuyasha does his usual thing of “Let’s just go in swinging and figure out the rest later but Shiori’s grandfather deflects the admittedly cool-looking Water Wind Scar Inuyasha throws at them with Shiori’s barrier. Shiori’s mom is all “Gimme back my daughter you said you’d stop attacking us if I let you have her” and he’s all like “Well make me, I have a fucking barrier and can hold you hostage” so everyone’s generally pissed off about the situation and Shiori’s granddad with the long name sends all the bat demons to go destroy the village which makes no fucking sense because the only reason she’s still cooperating is so they won’t hurt her mom, without her she has no reason to keep doing it but I guess he’s hoping having nothing to live for will make her do what he says out of nihilism or some shit.

Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke gets to face off against Suzaku, the final boss of the Saint Beasts and the gang get to demonstrate the teamwork lessons from this arc by doing a reenactment of the jumping Bahamut scene from Advent Children so Yusuke can get up the tower to fight him. It’s really pretty cool how they splice in Keiko’s Day of the Dead montage with Yusuke fighting Suzaku, tying things together thematically and culiminating in Yusuke and Keiko both fucking decking their opponents. I also really like how Yusuke’s so confident Keiko won’t go down to a zombie hoard so easily, like she’s not a fighter but she’s smart and has got guts so he’s pretty sure she can last a while while he pretends to punch Suzaku with his shoes. Overall a really good start to the fight that means Yusuke still has to wiggle his way out after using his Spirit Gun already and Suzaku still has a lot of shit to pull.

Fate Zero: So Saber and Lancer do their fight and there’s a bunch of fightnobabble talk that someone who’s actually held a weapon in their life would probably enjoy but to me is just “Oooh cool jabbies, flashing lights” which is still fun. Basically everyone’s watching though, Kirei has his ninja squad on the job, Kiritsugu’s Black Ops is monitoring things and Iskander is watching from the Radical Highway Bridge from Sonic Adventure 2. Eventually Iskander is like “Well damn they might kill each other if this keeps up” and Waver’s like “yeah duh.” And Iskander shows who wears the booty shorts in this relationship by storming into the fight against Waver’s wishes cause he wants to fight everyone anyway. So yeah, giant lightning chariot in the middle of this First Boss battle.

Konosuba: Now that the party’s all formed the group settle into a daily routine of Kazuma being Megumin’s wheels for her Explosion training, Aqua being a waitress and Darkness doing… probably better not to think about what Darkness is doing. Anyway, Megumin bombs the shit out of a Dullahan’s castle and before the Dullahan can call his friend Celty to come kick her ass, Darkness gets hit with a death spell and he issues a challenge to Megumin to come to the tower of the Four Saint Beasts and (wait wrong anime again) but Aqua just breaks the curse on her own and they just don’t bother showing up. In the manga this is really funny because Aqua’s in a maid outfit from her waitress job and just does it like it’s nothing and then they show a panel later of the Dullahan waiting for them like “The fuck when are they getting here…”.

Sailor Moon Crystal: So for some reason even though we only have three of the five Sailor Guardians, Luna decides this is the time to give a recap and reintroduce our protagonists for the first part of this episode. Anyway there’s a big party to celebrate a dated princess Di reference that’s kind of in poor taste at this point and Usagi and friends get in based solely on having fancy dresses and being hot, man I had no idea getting in with rich people was that easy. Anyway, Usagi gets a new tiara because of love and shit and gets an upgraded Ancient Egyptian Laser Beam from the moon. The Four Kings show up to be all “Ha-ha! You defeated my demon but now there’s all four of us and even though we still think you have the crystal and outnumber you and there will never be a moment when you’re weaker than this we will now… LEAVE FOR NO REASON!” like the logic of people in this show oh my fucking god. But of course the dated princess reference’s treasure isn’t the crystal they’re looking for and Tuxedo Mask kisses Sailor Moon while she’s asleep which is definitely sexual assault there was no fucking consent there, I don’t care if they’re moon soul mates or whatever she barely knows who he is and wasn’t conscious. But yeah Luna calls him out on his shit and despite clearly being an ally he has to be all edgy and be like “Well maybe I’m a friend, maybe I’ an enemy, who knows~” because I think he gets his power from how mysterious he is, like he’s going to be utterly useless if anyone figures out who he is, not to mention Luna already knows his identity but for some reason doesn’t tell Usagi. Idk man I just have a hard time following the logic of this fucking show…

Durarara!!: So yeah, this is the “The Yagiri Family is fucked” episode Namie has a weird fucked up brocon yandere thing going on, Seiji’s an asshole that because of having two stalker yanderes going after him has become a fractured manchild that thinks love is everything and pretends he knows shit but knows less shit than pretty much everyone around him and has his sister do all the shit for him. But yeah, Celty sees Seiji with the girl with her head and freaks out, and Shinra A DOCTOR if you remember says “Hey maybe your head just attached itself to a corpse Parasyte style” like either he’s a terrible doctor and really thinks that or this is a smokescreen to make Celty think her head has moved on and she should too which is a fucked up level of gaslighting. But yeah, Mikado takes Head Girl, Seiji keeps stabbing people with pens for some reason, luckily it’s mostly Shizuo so it doesn’t do anything, and Izaya’s just like “oh shit, chaos, I’m down”. Basically everyone is awful in this episode except for Mikado who just wants to help and doesn’t know shit, Celty who’s doing her best, and Shizuo who’s just awesome as usual.

[barbabangme]

🚨 🚨🚨BARBA SMUT ALERT 🚨🚨🚨

*a lovely mutual sent this to me and wanted to share anonymously! ENJOY SOME NICE BARBA FUCKIN*

Barba stood at the door of your apartment, a little concerned at how easy it had been to get in past security. He’d talk to you later about that, but for now he had to drop off your miscellaneous files you had left in his office. He was about to knock when he noticed the door was slightly ajar, like someone left in a hurry. Not only that, he heard loud music blasting from inside and became much more concerned. After pushing the door open, he followed the music all the way to the bathroom where he found you lying fully clothed in the bathtub, bottle of wine in your hand.

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You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe how badly you had bombed the case. It was open and shut, and it had been a complete surprise when the defense refused the deal you assumed they would take since the evidence was overwhelming. You had video evidence of the man committing the crime, yet the jury had been loud and clear: “Not guilty.” Never again were you going to underestimate the power of charisma a defendant could bring. In fact, you were probably never going to get the chance to have anything to do with a defendant, since you would almost certainly lose your job over this. Even an attorney that graduated at the bottom of their class could’ve secured a win, yet you graduated at the top and you didn’t. Before you had a chance to play Fernando by ABBA yet again, your colleague, the annoying yet strikingly handsome Rafael Barba stepped through your bathroom door.

“If I knew I was having company I would’ve tidied up,” you said, tequila bottle in hand, still laying at the bottom of your bathtub. At first he just stared at you with a mixture of what looked like pity and disgust. You imagined how this scene looked to him, the man who was put together with his three piece suits and expensive watches. You weren’t a slob but you certainly weren’t as anal as him about having it together. In fact, the last time you had anything together might’ve been the 5th grade when you got put in the gifted children’s class. It was honestly a surprise you got into law school, much less graduated.

“What are you doing?” he finally got out.

“Celebrating the loss of my job and my entry into the world of homelessness.”

“Come on, it’s gonna be fine. You’re better than this,” he said as he stood there awkwardly. You knew cheering people up wasn’t his strong suit, so you couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable he was then.

“You’re better than this. I’m not.” Climbing out of the bathtub, you became acutely aware that your blouse was unbuttoned, the same one you wore yesterday. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, you were a mix of drunk plus dejected and nothing seemed to matter anymore. Who cares if Barba saw your underwear? It’s not like you would be working with him much longer.

“Now’s your chance to see what’s underneath all those three piece suits,” your inner monologue whispered.

“Oh my god shut up!”

“Excuse me?” he replied, and only then did you realize you said it out loud.

“Nothing,” you responded. “Want a drink? Most of my alcohol is cheap because I’m not exactly ballin like you are, but after enough of it it won’t really matter.”

To your surprise, he followed you to your pathetic looking kitchen. Maybe he wasn’t so straitlaced after all. After embarrassing yourself by almost falling over when you were walking, you finally got out every single bottle of alcohol you owned. It wasn’t much, but what little you had was potent.

“Take your pick, your highness,” you said as you did an exaggerated bow.

“Wow, this is, uh-”

“Awful? Yeah I know, but it’s all I have.”

“I was going to say unique, but that works too.” He grabbed your whiskey and poured himself a glass.

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By the time he got to his third drink, you had seemed to forget all about the disastrous trial. You guys were laughing about something stupid, Barba honestly coudn’t have cared less what about. It was taking all his willpower not to stare at your exposed chest, willpower that was slowly decreasing the more he drank. You were wearing a lacy black bra, something that had always been a favorite of his and frankly it was driving him crazy. All those months of working in close quarters hadn’t helped him with his... interest? Crush seemed too juvenile of a word to describe it. Frankly he almost quit when he found out you were going to be his co-counsel. It was hard enough working in the same department together, now you’d be forced to be together for hours on end, day after day? He was a strong willed man but not that strong willed. But somehow he managed to do it, with the months of your hard work culminated in the sham verdict the jury gave out. At least it would be easier to avoid you now that this was over.

As you poured him another drink, Barba couldn’t help but make a slightly suggestive comment. “Trying to take advantage of me huh?”

“Maybe,” you said in such a way he almost believed there was more to it. He was about to brush it off when the glint in your eye caught his attention. He brushed it off as him reading too much into things, after all you were his colleague and it was highly inappropriate.

“God I’m so glad that trial is over,” you sighed, leaning back into your very old couch. “I can’t believe my last trial ever was a loss.”

“Okay you need to calm down,” he started. “You are going to be fine. Nobody is expected to win 100% of their cases, and the district attorney’s office has faced losses like that before. It’s not a big deal.” He genuinely thought he helped until he saw the look on your face.

“You really don’t get it do you,”you said, your voice low. “You, sir, are going to be just fine. Nothing is going to happen to you, your job is secure. Me? I’m a newbie compared to you. I haven’t been here long enough so for me to lose such an easy case? That looks badly on me, alright? I am fucked. I am so fucked. There is no way my career recovers from this.”

Barba could tell you were getting heated, but he couldn’t help but think you were overreacting and normally he might’ve understood that the smart thing to do would be to keep his mouth shut. However, he had more whiskey than he could remember and his mouth was looser than usual today.

“Honestly, you’re overreacting. The DA might be mad but at the end of the day we’re going to be equally blamed for it and eventually people will forget and they’ll move on. It’s-”

“It’s going to be a god damn disaster that’s what,” you almost yelled. “I don’t get how you don’t see it. I am supposed to be a lawyer that graduated at the top of her class, yet I can’t even secure a win from one of the easiest cases this state has ever seen? Yeah, you were there too but you’ve been in the game longer, you have more wins under your belt than I do, you’re more established. Compared to you I’m just starting out and I started out with a fucking failiure.”

You two went back and forth for a while, until Rafael could sense you were about to reach your tipping point. As you were about to shout something else at him, he calmly raised a finger in your face to quiet you down, held his glass of whiskey with his other hand, and took a drink. You were silenced immediately, mostly trying to figure out where he got the audacity when he put the drink down and looked into your eyes, culminating in what seemed like the longest staring match to ever occur. But something else was different. You didn’t believe in fruity things like auras or horoscopes, but it felt like the energy in the room had changed. All of a sudden, there was an unbearable amount of sexual tension, and it was all concentrated right between the two of you. It was almost as if the arguing fed it, made it stronger, to the point where you knew whatever proceeded would be against both of your moral codes.

After who knows how long, Rafael decided he had enough. “I think we both know how this is going to end,” he said in a deep, husky voice. You tried not to let on how much he affected you, but you just couldn’t help it. He looked so fucking good, with his sleeves rolled up and his jawline taut. You were so nervous, but now wasn’t the time to be nervous. With someone as confident as Rafael, you needed to act like you knew what you wanted and you were going to get it. You leaned in, until your faces were mere inches apart. “Oh really? Because I’m not sure I do.”

Getting up as carefully as you could, you slowly started walking towards the bedroom and began to unbutton the rest of your shirt. You kept forcing yourself to not turn around, you didn’t want to see what he was doing or you would psych yourself out. Right before you got to your bedroom, you felt a strong hand grab your entire arm and spin you. Again, you were eye to eye with him and you swore you felt your heart stop.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way,” he whispered in your ear. The dom in you didn’t even care, all you needed right now was him and you were going to do whatever it took to have him. Nodding slowly, he led you to the bedroom and sat at the foot of your bed.

“Strip,” he ordered, as he took a sip of whiskey from his glass. You unbutton your shirt as slowly as you could, partly out of fear and partly out wanting to tease him. You could that glint in his eye again, and it only turned you on even more.

After what felt like forever, you dropped your shirt on the floor. Standing in front of him in only a lacy black bra and a pair of fitted pants, you started to unclasp your bra when he held a finger up and stopped you.

“Pants first,” he pointed down. You obeyed, loving how bossy he was, a quality of his that often rubbed you the wrong way. Once you stood in front of him in your matching lacy underwear, it finally hit you how exposed you were. You started to cross your arms when he stopped you.

“I want to see you. Turn around.”

You almost didn’t, just to see what he’d do to you, but you eventually turned around. Once you were facing him again, he stood up slowly and began to unravel his tie. You couldn’t help but stare at his arms, they were just so fucking perfect. He put his hand under your chin and gently lifted your face so your eyes met. “Up here.” Staring into each other’s eyes was a strangely intimate gesture, but not an unwelcome one. You ran your hands under his suspenders as he unbuttoned his shirt. You couldn’t even wait for him to take it off before you ran your hands all over his chest and his back, pulling him closer and he glanced in your eyes for a split second before your lips met.

The first kiss was gentle and soft. He pulled back quickly to gauge your reaction. The second one was much more intense, his hand coming around the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. He slid his hands down your back and unclasped your bra, throwing it on the floor. He turned you around and you two fell back on the bed together, him on top. Your bodies kept moving close together, as if it was physically impossible for them to be apart. He started kissing your neck, and you made sounds you had never made with any other man before. So far, he had exceeded every expectation you ever imposed on him in your day dreams, and you hadn’t even gotten to the main course yet.

He was breathing heavily in between kisses when he whispered in your ear. “Take it out.” Your hands slid down and began to unbutton his pants when you felt it against your leg.

“I hope it’s not that big, my insurance doesn’t cover that,” you thought to yourself. You reached in and took it out and not only was it bigger, the girth was unmatched.

“I think you know what to do.” It may have sounded like a suggestion, but you knew better. Barba was always in control, even when it felt like he wasn’t and that was an order not a suggestion. Sliding the rest of your “clothing” off, you did the same to him with his shirt and pants while he moved around from your neck to your chest to collarbone.

You didn’t even notice it going in because he didn’t warn you. It went so deep you were speechless for a moment, all thoughts void. When you could finally breathe again, he didn’t go easy on you, instead he put one hand on the headboard and used to to drive himself deeper. You could feel your bed slamming against the wall, which was surely going to get a complaint from your neighbor but you didn’t care. He slowed down for a moment to come down and kiss you, so you took the opportunity to run your hands down his surprisingly wide back. He pulled away for a moment, and then flipped you around so your back was arched in the air. Grabbing your hips, he pulled you back onto himself with surprising accuracy.

“He’s done this move before,” you thought to yourself. After almost slamming you down on him, he moved one hand up to your waist to arch your back and the other to your neck and grabbed it.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear. You felt a shiver run down your spine and Rafael knew it too, smirking to himself before pulling you back onto him. It wasn’t long before you finished, letting out yet another noise no man had made you make before. You had no idea what it was: the sex, the moves, or the man himself but your never came close to finishing from sex alone before. You figured it was probably the fact that you had spent so long fantasizing about this man, only to have him exceed expectations. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on your hips, the way his mouth felt all over your body, how big he was-

Your train of thought was interrupted by his abrupt stop. You looked back at him to see him more fucked out than you had ever seen him before. You turned around to face him.

“What’s wrong?” you said, hoping he wasn’t regretting his decision.

“I’m not usually- I mean, it doesn’t usually happen this fast,’ he said, out of breath. You just smiled at him, stretching your legs out until they were around his waist and brought him closer to you. “That is just fine with me,” you whispered in his ear. The two of you lowered down, once again looking into each other's eyes. You locked your legs around his waist, he wasn’t going anywhere until he finished and when he did, he let out a guttural noise that only ignited a fire within you despite the two of you just getting done. The both of you collapsed on the bed, just the noises of heavy breathing filling the air while you tried to comprehend what just happened. You glanced over at him, half expecting him to have a look of regret but instead you saw something you could only describe as primal in his eyes. After a brief moment of staring at each other, he reached over with his hand to hold your face gently, then gave you the softest kiss in the world. You held his hand with yours, not wanting him to let go.

[kekekentyuh]

Tomorrow, Today

Jinyoung heard the engine die down abruptly as the old pick-up truck came to a short pause, prompting him to tear his eyes from where he was looking out the window to look at his friend by the driver's seat, said friend's hands still clenched against the steering wheel.

"Is there a reason why we're stopping?"

Jaebum just blinked, in obvious awe with his surroundings, closing his gaping mouth as he replied, "Let's hang here for a bit."

The expression in the former's face shifted almost instantly from confusion to pure disbelief. "This is the middle of nowhere."

Jaebum turned around to push the handle of the creaky pick-up truck door open. "I'm well aware."

"The car is parked in the middle of the road."

"I can see that, too."

"The lodge is still, like, a half-hour away." Jaebum stood a few inches from the car's front end, looking up at the soaring pine trees around them in what looked like genuine curiosity in his eyes; Jinyoung rolled his own, feeling his irises strike the top of his eyelids, and pushed his car door open and stepped out, figuring his friend was far-off to hear any call, judging by both his distance from the car and the way he looked at the trees, not tearing them off of them even for a second to look at him.

They’d stopped in front of a red-and-white flared sign at an intersection, four angry arrows pointing to both their left and their right, seemingly mocking them with that angry hue and insulting warning: CROSSROADS AHEAD. Jaebum had stopped the car a few inches from the white line that marked the end of the road, had stepped a few feet beside the signs to stare at the fine wisps of pine above him, through mountains and mountains of trees cascading as fas the eyes can see, his blue shirt and chocolate trousers seemingly blending in with the bright, unreal colors of everything around them. Jinyoung continued to look at him like he was crazy, like he always did, and sighed in extreme exasperation.

“This is insane. We can’t stop now, Jaebum. We’ve been traveling for a day straight just so we can catch up. I bought a shitload of snacks to stuff the backseat so we wouldn’t have to stop driving. We even scheduled our bathroom breaks so we could make it for the rehearsal dinner.” He could hear Jaebum’s steps on the pavement, like fading echoes as the distance grew. “We’re going to be late.” 

Jaebum backed up a few steps, tilting his head some more, eyeing the tips of trees, which were a luscious shade of mint green, cool to the eyes, a sight of relief for the brightness around them. Jinyoung looked at him intently with both his eyebrows raised, unable to understand why he was so distracted. “Were you even listening to me?”

Jaebum squinted his small eyes in an attempt to disregard the distance. “Woodpeckers.”

Jinyoung blinked. “What?”

“There may be woodpeckers up the tops of those trees.” His tone was hushed but factual; silent but guarded and sure. “You can see the leaves rustling.” Jinyoung immediately snapped his head to the direction he was pointing at, finding, sure enough, a subtle small rustling within the crevices of the leaves that could indicate the presence of a small, wood chipping bird, then snapped his head immediately back, mentally slapping himself for letting Jaebum distract him in the middle of an interrogation.

“We need to go,” he asserted, looking directly at his friend with the best piercing gaze he could muster. “Let’s get to the car.”

Jaebum continued to inspect the trees, dragging his feet along the deep gray pavement. “We’re not in a rush.”

“We’re wasting time.”

“The rehearsal dinner doesn’t start for another four hours.”

Jinyoung glanced at the black leather-strapped watch slung around his wrist. He hated it when he was right. “We haven’t really arrived yet.”

“The cabins are not too far from here. It’s just over the pond and across the big, green rice field, and we’re there. And besides—” Jaebum looked over at him, the first time he’s looked since he left the car, “—I’m driving.”

Jinyoung, who was still yet to learn how to drive a car, let along ignite the engine, grimaced. “I paid for the gas, asshole.”

“You won’t need gas when you’re not driving, dumbass.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jinyoung snapped back, very evidently beginning to lose his patience. “We need to go. Get in the car.”

“We still have time, Jinyoung.”

“But we’ve not yet dressed appropriately, we still need to cha—”

“I’ll get us there faster.”

“But—”

“God, Jinyoung! C’mon! Calm down!” Jinyoung bit back the complaint at the tip of his tongue, his mouth left agape as he stared at Jaebum in disbelief. “It’s fine. It’s not like we still have the rest of the country to cover at this point. It’s just a small break. We’re not in a hurry.” 

Jaebum looked back at his friend, whose nostrils were flaring at arms were crossed firmly around his torso, ears red in frustration. “And besides, it’s not like my sister’s going to mind if I show up late. And my mom really couldn’t care any less.” He sighed. “Trust me. If we get there early, we’ll be lying on the sofa beds reading dusty old books because the dingy ancient television set doesn’t work anymore. I’d rather we get there late.”

Jinyoung side-eyed him, which was the only thing he could do without bruising him, or slapping him, or inflicting any sort of damage to his face before his sister’s rehearsal dinner. His line of sight was almost cut off by the shining sun, peeking beneath the shade of the trees in a beautiful shade of color he can’t quite make out, feeling it against his skin, like it was kissing him. He’d been to Jaebum’s family’s log cabin farm way back since they were children, and it’d always been beautiful and mesmerizing, with a breathtaking view of the mountaintops by the balconies and lakes that shone like diamonds during sunny days; it was no question why Nayeon would want to get married there. 

But it never occurred to him how much more the way there had to offer.

“What exactly do we do here, then?” 

Jaebum turned to him, with an unsure look on his face as he stood there, savoring the sunlight, too. But, almost immediately, he smiled, and turned away. “I told you. We’re here to take a break.”

The guy placed a palm on the pavement, as if feeling the earth beneath it, knowing its temperature, and, in less than a split of a second, was lying down, one arm behind his head, the other resting quaintly on his stomach, eyes closed to the endless shower of sun dust in front of him.

“You’re crazy,” Jinyoung went, his eyes wider than an owl’s. “You’ve gone mad. You stopped driving at the middle of a road in an Edward Cullen-like Twilight pine tree forest just so you can lie down on the pavement?” Jaebum’s lips curved into a small, slender smile, his eyes tightly bound shut, letting out a small, hushed chuckle. “You’re insane.”

“You’re welcome to join me, you know.” Jinyoung almost laughed. “It’s only the two of us here. Edward’s probably not coming.”

“I am not lying down at the middle of a highway, Jaebum.”

Jaebum nodded. “Suit yourself. But can you scoot a little bit further? Just right by your left. You’re blocking my sunlight.”

Jinyoung felt his nostrils flare, his jaw clench, and his veins stretch, almost to a popping point. He didn’t know why he was doing this, and he didn’t understand its actual point, but the minute he realized it, he was lying down perpendicularly to his friend, both his hands resting on his chest, after grunts and groans, his cream jacket and newly-steamed khaki bottoms now scrubbing against the pavement. God, Jaebum is so stupid.

“See? Not so bad, now, isn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

For a while, none of them spoke; Jinyoung found it peaceful, like the kind of momentous peace he didn’t know he needed. The serenity spoke to him in volumes — it was just him, Jaebum, and the forest, with its scaping, singing pine trees that danced in the wind, its bright, still sunlight that caressed their cheeks, and its distant whistling summer breeze, laying him peacefully against the earth. Something like this actually felt nice — to empty one’s head of all the thoughts and worries, and just be within a moment, peaceful, serene, and settled, not letting anything pierce the glass that kept you from reeling back to reality. And with the way he knew Jaebum was getting some rest, too, after driving since dawn, he wished time could pause until they both felt like continuing the journey — but it couldn’t.

Jaebum’s voice then came at the hushed tone he’d heard before, the same hushed tone he uses when he’s thinking and wants to know something. “How’s uni?”

Jinyoung looked up at him to see his legs now crossed in the air, his eyes still squeezed shut. “What do you mean? Like how’s everything there? Or how is it going for me?”

“You know what I mean,” he replied without moving his face, keeping a still, serene stature.

Jinyoung resumed his original position, looking at the tips of the pines that poked the sky, subtle shadows reflected against his forehead. “It’s all going well, I suppose. I’m working towards raising my GPA. You know, so I can become valedictorian.”

“Sounds like a plan,” his friend mutters, the subtle pride and contentment evident in his voice. “You’re going to do great.”

“Hope so,” he replied with the exact opposite energy: unsure, and confused. “How about you? You still at that internship with the big-shot producer?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“They didn’t mention it being a coffee-making job. I could’ve stopped by a Starbucks and asked for a job and they would’ve given me the same shit. But at least I’d get paid.” Jinyoung almost laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “But, you know, it’s tight. I’m learning a lot. This is more studio time I’ve experienced in my life. It’s bomb.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Glad it’s working out for you.”

Then the question popped in his head, even though he knew it wasn’t supposed to. It was one of those questions that took more energy to keep than to ask, and, knowing himself, he wouldn’t survive a minute without having to let it rip.

“Have you ever thought about what you’re going to do next, Jae?”

“Oh, easy. I’m going to get up, walk to the car, check the gas and turn the eng—”

“No, not that, you shit.” Jaebum snickered, a laugh Jinyoung hadn’t heard in a while, and was glad to have heard. “Like, after your internship ends. Do you know what you’re going to do?”

Jaebum was silent, and for a moment, Jinyoung thought he’d taken it too far. Jaebum wasn’t one to share his thoughts with anyone, even with him, who was his best friend for seven years, even if there was a gun pointed right at the side of his head. All of it was hot water.

But he replied with a frank “No.”

“You don’t?”

“No fucking clue.” Jinyoung fell silent as well, trying to think of the next best thing to say. “What about you?”

He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip to avoid embarrassing himself, but quickly reminded himself that he had nothing to lose with Jaebum. “I have no fucking clue, too.”

“Really? Well, that’s new.”

Jinyoung looked up at him again, curious. “It is?”

“Yeah. You’re Jinyoung. Park Jinyoung. You always have a plan. Nothing comes through without a plan, right?” Jinyoung redirected himself to look at the blue sky, unsure of what to say next. He knew he was Jinyoung — he didn’t need to be told twice — but he didn’t feel like himself anymore. Something was missing. 

“You know, when we were still in school, everyone said you’d do great things when we grew up. You’d become a doctor, or a lawyer, or all that good stuff. You always got the stars, and always got the first option in desserts because you always shone in class. All of the teachers I knew loved you.”

Loved, Jinyoung thought. The keyword here is loved.

“That was years ago, Jaebum, we’re not kids anymore.”

“Yeah, but not much has changed, right? You’re still doing well in school, consistently doing well with academics, and balancing work with your clubs and groups. You’re veering towards becoming valedictorian and being groomed for medical school because they know you’re going to be one of the best they’ll ever know.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re the most intelligent, talented, most gifted person I have ever met, and I’m always going to be proud of you for it.”

Jinyoung stays silent as Jaebum stopped, letting him flow out of his mind uninterrupted. He knew the past few weeks had been rough for him, as he struggled incessantly to keep so many aspects of his life together, and he consistently had to do it alone. This, Jinyoung figured, was the first time he was talking to anyone about it.

“Meanwhile, I was just your friend.”

Jinyoung’s face froze, his eyes blinking tensely. “What?”

“You know. Growing up, I was always just your friend. Jinyoung’s friend, the guy he hands out with. The one who looked like he could cut a snake up and tie it around your neck like a choker.”

He knew not to laugh at this remark, even though it seemed like Jaebum wanted him to laugh. “Jaebum, that’s not true.”

“It is,” he replied, with no inch of anger evident in his voice. “People always wondered why I hung out with you, or why you chose to stay with me, because so many thought you were too good for me, or you had more things to do with your time than waste it with me. You had a bright future ahead of you, and I was just some runover waiting to throw his life away.” Jinyoung couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Guess they were right.”

He snapped his head up, felt his legs graze against the rough surface as he punched his friend’s arm with all the might he could muster, said friend groaning in response. “What was that for?”

“Your breath was starting to smell like bullshit.”

Jaebum’s eyes both widened and narrowed in confusion. “What?”

“You were my friend because you were kind to me, Jaebum,” Jinyoung began, looking him dead in the eyes. “You were one of the only people who I could be friends with my whole life that didn’t want anything from me, who didn’t want to cheat off me for a test or get something from me because they knew I knew. You were one of the only people that ever entered my life that never told me what I had to do with my life, like what I wanted for myself was more of a choice than destiny because you saw me past my skills.” Jinyoung felt his lip tremble. “You were true, Jaebum, and that’s more than what I needed.”

“Jinyoung—”

“Everyone expects me to make the right move, the right decision because they say they know I’ll do great things one day, even though they clearly don’t know anything about what I want for myself. I’ve always hated anyone who said that, and hearing that from you stung way more than it could have ever gotten.”

Jaebum sat up, not breaking eye contact, and sighed. “I’m sorry—”

“I’m not perfect, Jaebum. I do well in school, but I’m not perfect. I haven’t figured out what I really want, because all my life, people have hounded me and pushed me towards paths they say will be great for me. But now that I get to decide if I really want to become something — something other than this doctor they expect me to just breeze through — I can’t, because I never truly understood what it meant to know myself.” Jinyoung’s lip trembled with every word, and Jaebum couldn’t come any closer. “That’s something you get to do that I’ll always envy. You’re brave, Jae. And you know yourself more than I could ever do myself.”

Jinyoung buried his head beneath his arms, his legs tucked towards his center as the silence befell on them once again. Jaebum stared at him intently, letting his glances dance from the light color of the white lines that decorated the center of the stretching road, to the light color of Jinyoung’s shirt, that gleamed ethereally under the sunlight. He amassed himself to speak again.

“Y’know, I’m kind of glad we’re sitting down here in the middle of the road.” Jinyoung slowly picked his head up, an exasperated, distinct type of sadness evident in his eyes, staring straight into Jaebum’s. 

“Why?” he asked, in a toned-down version of his anger from before.

“It’s kind of telling me something.” He stood up, kicking the underside of his friend’s shoe in the process, signaling him to stand up with him, but he went on before him. “I’ve never once looked at this beautiful road before, even though I’d been coming to the cabins my whole life, and it’s always because I’m too busy minding my shit, or looking forward to what’s ahead. I spend a lot of time spacing out to think about what I’m going to see when it’s not even there, and I’m really not even ready to see any of it yet.”

He looked back to see Jinyoung, hair disheveled and hand stuffed in pockets, socked feet together, staring back at him again. “You get what I mean, right?”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “You’re too young and built to be a wise old man.” He nodded slightly in affirmation. “But I do.” 

Jaebum offered him a smile, the kind, genuine, it’s going to be okay one, and the other rolled his eyes a little bit before smiling as well, stepping forward to stand beside his friend, looking at the side opposite of where their vehicle was facing: the long, winding road they’d already taken, the bumps and cracks they’d passed and survived, all the signs they’d seen and ignored and ones they’d seen and thought about ignoring, but didn’t. It was a lot.

“If there’s one thing we both need to hear,” Jinyoung said, brushing himself and Jaebum off from the sidewalk gravel on their backs, “it’s that we’re right where we need to be, always.” Jaebum smiled and nodded. “We’ll cross the bridge when we get there. And we’ll get there soon.”

“Yeah, we will.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #338

“i can’t decide if you’re wearing me out, or wearing me well”

Are you a fan of techno? I've gotten more into it lately, actually. I've never minded it. Who’s your favorite horror movie villain/monster? Pyramid Head, though he's called Red Pyramid Thing in the movies. Do you have a favorite muscle car? Nah. I'm not big into cars. What would be a total deal-breaker for you, relationship-wise? You so much as lift your hand at me, bye, motherfucker. Would you consider yourself to be accepting of others? Yes, but not as much as I used to be. There are certain opinions I just don't tolerate in people anymore; I feel like by staying associated with people whose views invalidate or in any way harm others (racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc.), you're on the side of evil as well, even if indirectly. However, I genuinely do feel I have a wide range of viewpoints I'm willing to accept in others, even if I don't agree with them. Are you flirtatious? No. I think I'm only capable of flirting with someone I'm already with and very comfortable around. I'd feel way too shy and awkward otherwise. Have you ever just felt "drawn" to someone, but you didn’t know why? "Didn't know why," no. I've felt drawn to people with good reason, like if I was romantically interested in them. Is there anyone you currently want to reach out to? There's a number, honestly. Especially with the aid of therapy, I'm being motivated to strengthen bonds with old friends and/or acquaintances via Facebook. Freddy or Jason? I think Jason is scarier. Freddy tends to come across as cheesy for me. Have stickers or gems on your cell phone? Nah. Ever teased your hair? Bitch I damn well tried in high school because I wanted the ~ l e g i t ~ emo hair, but mine was just too heavy to hold, at least with the hairspray my sister had. Have any friends with benefits? Nah, that's never been my thing. Ever lost of bunch of valuable information? Ummm I don't believe so. I've lost massive RP posts before, but I can't really call those "valuable information." What drinks or food make you hyper? None, really. Most expensive thing you ever bought? With my own money, my snake. She's a champagne morph ball python. What type of toothpaste do you use? Crest. How much time to spend putting on makeup daily? Zero. When listening to a song, what do you listen for (lyrics, bass, beat, ect)? The beat, more than anything else. What is the color of your toothbrush? It's a white electric one. What is your favorite color(s) of eye-makeup? Black. Just black. Are you sexually active? I'm not. Do you have sensitive skin? Very. Are you attracted to several guys atm? I'm actually not attracted to any guys in my personal life atm. How many toilets are in your house? Two. Do you have an older sister? Excluding the one I don't know, I have three older sisters. Favorite song by Owl City? Probably "Hot Air Balloon," but I don't know many at all. What color is your mum’s car? White. Do you truly understand the (LDS) Mormon religion? I don't know what "LDS" means, but as my former best friend developed into a Mormon, I learned some stuff from her in her self-discovery. I don't remember a lot of it, not that I knew all that much in the first place. Where do you keep your kitty litter box? Ugh, Mom's unmovable about it being in my fucking room for some reason. And we have an extra goddamn room no one uses yet. Roman's shit STINKS, like we think something might actually be wrong, but nope, it has to stay in here. e_e It would literally inconvenience nobody if we moved it in the spare room. Are you a lighter complexion than your father? MUCH lighter. He's very tan. Do you like apricots? No. Solid soap bar or liquid body wash? 100% body wash. Bar soap slips so easily, and as someone who lives with another person, I'm not rubbing my body with the same bar my mother uses, no offense to her. Sharing it's just gross. Where do you live (country or state)? Shitty 'ole North Carolina. Do you use plastic, wooden, or wire hangers? I think we have a mix of them, actually. What is your favorite shade of yellow? I only like pastel yellow. Otherwise, it's one of my least favorite colors. Are there any shades of blue that you don’t like? If so, which ones? Ehhh not really. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? God, can I please have a stable career by then. Who has the best decorated house in your town? I don't know. We live in a cul de sac community thing where it's just houses next to houses, so there's a lot to choose from. I don't pay attention to them. What is your favorite part of Halloween? The decorations. Do you feel a connection to the moon? "As above, so below," as the saying goes. What does your heart long for? Peace and contentness with myself. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Last year, I didn't. I do want to this year, though, if I can just think of a really good idea. I have to be motivated. What are some fall activities you would do with your kids? I'm not having kids, but I'll follow along, hypothetically. With how much joy Halloween brought me as a kid, I'd want to do SO much as a family with them. Homemade decorations, carving or painting pumpkins together, and hell yeah I'd be taking them trick-or-treating once I felt they were ready and they wanted to. I'd be one of those parents that probably spends too much on whatever costumes they want, haha... Oh, and then besides Halloween, I'd certainly rake leaf piles together for them to jump and play in. This question has brought to mind like ONE thing I could enjoy as a parent, haha. Have you ever seen a fox? I have; besides in a zoo setting, I've seen one or two in the wild run out of sight, and I also found one poor fellow as roadkill that had been disemboweled by I'm assuming vultures. With my whole roadkill photography thing, I literally almost kneeled into a strand of intestines I didn't see at first. :x What color are the squirrels where you live? We only have brown ones. Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? lol no What do the trees look like where you live? Lots, and lots, and LOTS of pine trees... There are others, but I'm not well-informed on tree species and such. Oh, then of course there are dogwoods (our "state tree"), which are unmistakable because they smell like fucking manure. What is your dream vacation? Maybe the mountains on the western side of NC during the fall... ugh, that would be breathtaking. We actually have an abandoned The Wizard of Oz-themed park around there that allows tours at certain times of the year, and I'd love to visit and photograph there. As well, western NC has the zoo, which would be spectacular to visit with autumn weather and, once again, load up on photos. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? I LOVED field trips. Do you find museums boring or interesting? Very interesting! Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? No. I'm not patriotic enough at all for that. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? Historically, larger doses of Klonopin can knock me the fuck out. Do you like bath bombs? Never used one, because I don't do baths. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? I'm going to guesstimate you mean less than 1M subs as "small," because I really don't know what you consider to fit that description. I watch a lot of people with less than 1M, so it's hard to say, but lately it's probably been a let's player John Wolfe. He's really funny. Then there's some tarantula YouTubers, along with the animal educator Emzotic... and really just many others. I think most of the people I watch actually have sub-1M, but more than 500k. Who are your favorite big YouTubers? Markiplier is absolutely, positively #1. I also really enjoy Snake Discovery, GameGrumps, Jeffree Star (don't judge me ok, he's a fuckin hoot), and while I haven't watched them in years, Good Mythical Morning will ALWAYS be deeply, deeeeply embedded in my heart. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Ummm probably the Spice Girls? Have you ever used an outhouse? Ugh, yes, at old childhood sports games. What was the last good cause you donated towards? When I cut off like 8+ inches of hair to accomplish the style I have now, I donated it to Children With Hair Loss. My hair has always been mega-thick and healthy, so why in the world waste it? One of my most cherished items is the certificate I got in return many months later that my donation had been used. Have any of your exes gotten married or had kids since your breakup? I haven't had contact with Juan in many years, don't know what Tyler's up to either, and I haven't spoken to Jason since 2017, so. I'm very doubtful he's married or has kids yet, though, just knowing him and how "I need to be fully prepared for this" he is with big life stuff like that. Does it bother you when people get super emotional? Not at all. I'll do my all to comfort them. Have you ever worked in a restaurant? No. Do you get a lot of thunderstorms where you live? Depends on the time of year. Summertime? Brief but super intense thunderstorms every late afternoon. What was the last drive-thru you went through? Taco Bell w/ Mom. Do you know anyone who claims they can see/feel spirits or other supernatural ‘things?’ No. Do either of your parents have a mental illness? My mom has depression, and Mom is also convinced Dad has either depression masked as anger and/or bipolarity, but following the divorce, I don't see it in him at all. He's never seen a doctor in that field to be diagnosed with any mental illness. What fun things are there to do where you live? Jackshit. Do you know anyone with a really poorly-trained dog? Mother of fucking god, yes. My little sister lives with her best friend, and said friend has a colossal black lab named Hudson that is absolutely uncontrollable because she neglects the shit out of him. Won't listen to you even if it saved his life. He jumps on you, barks endlessly, and if he escapes the house? Good fucking luck getting him inside. She has absolutely no right to own a dog with how shitty of an owner she honestly is. When you were growing up, did your family rent or own your home? They owned it. The idiots who were moving in after us accidentally burnt the place to a fucking crisp, and my parents were SO not happy to lose that house because people were dumb enough to place boxes atop the goddamn stove. Do you do meal-prepping? No. Do you know anyone who got preggo less than a year into their relationship? Multiple people, not that that's my business. What did you dream about last night? I don't remember it clearly, other than I was with Jason and his mother was also present. What's the biggest age difference you've ever had in a relationship? That would have been with Juan, but I don't remember exactly how old he was. I just know I was a freshman and him a senior that got held back a year or so in HS. If you could save one animal from ever becoming extinct, what animal would you pick? Probably bees, given how vital they are. Name the coolest thing about one of your grandparents. My maternal grandmother worked at Disney World. I can't remember what her position was, though. Do you ever eat peanut butter straight from the jar? If I want a healthy snack, sometimes I'll have a scoop. Do you prefer your clothes loose or close fitting? They need to be loose. Favorite thing you’ve ever painted? This big painting of meerkats grooming on burlap I did in high school. Do you always wear a bra? I question the self-love of anyone who can sleep with a bra on. ;__; Do you normally finish one book before starting another? Oh yes, I can't read more than one at a time. Do you prefer reading books, comic books, manga/graphic novels, magazines, or the newspaper? The normal book. Do you know how to play chess? I don't. Are you watching anything? No, but I do have Manson's "Third Day of a Seven Day Binge" on in another tab. What is your blood type? A-. Has anyone ever borrowed something from you and never returned it? Yes. Do you twitch when you're falling asleep? Dude, I more than "twitch." I can just suddenly spaz out and look like I'm seizing for a moment. Another side effect of my nightmare suppressant medication. Are any of your pets “overweight”? No. Has anyone ever bought you a ring? My mom has bought me a few, and Jason gave me one for one of our anniversaries. Where was the last place you took a bath/shower, other than your own house? My sister's place. What first attracted you to the last person you kissed? Just how unique and happy that way she is. And her pretty much undying loyalty. Has someone ever taken a pic of you while you were making out with someone? No, considering I wouldn't go that far with someone unless we were alone. Had a crush on someone you thought shared your sexuality, turns out didn’t? Yes. What’s your favorite color to wear? Black. Does it gross you out if a guy has hair on his chest? I personally don't find an excess of it attractive, but it doesn't "gross me out." If they bathe themselves just like everyone else, why should it? Do you think sexuality is a choice or not? It is absolutely not a choice. If it was, I'd assume most people would choose to be straight, given phobias, hatecrimes, etc... I could write an essay on this. Do you like industrial piercings? Yeah. Do you think stretched ears are disgusting? "Disgusting" is, once again, the wrong word. Gauges don't really gross me out - hell, I want tiny ones -, but they can reach a size that, to me, is not visually appealing. Did you watch animated Barbie movies when you were little? I do remember loving Princess and the Pauper as well as the Rapunzel one; my sister was addicted to them. Oh yeah! Then there was the Swan Lake one that she adored, too. We usually watched movies together. Do you like fruit in your cereal? Big No. Do you like raw vegetables? Ugh, no. Do you listen to A Day to Remember? I do! They're on my list of faves. Do you like funnel cake? I actually don't. Have you ever been with someone while they were getting a tattoo? Yuh.

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 5)

(ch. 1) (ch. 2) (ch. 3) (ch. 4)

Whiskey takes the stairs two steps at a time.

His heart is racing as he turns the corner, immediately heading for his own room. He barely registers passing by a vaguely curious Hops as he practically runs the last few steps. As soon as he's made it inside, he closes the door firmly behind himself and then locks it.

Whiskey's pulse is frighteningly close to a level that's comparable to mid-game in the playoffs, when the call finally connects.

“... Connor?”

Whiskey tries to take a breath – not even a deep breath, for fucks sake, if he could just fucking breathe at all-

“Beth. Hey.”

For some reason, Bethany Whisk almost laughs.

“For someone who did not just come out to our entire extended family, you sure sound like shit, Connor.”

Whiskey let’s himself sink down onto his bed, his head in his hands.

“What, uh. When’d you… How bad is it?”

The text hadn’t exactly clarified much. just outed myself to my parents and yours, over sunday dinner. everything a lil yikes. thought u should know

“Pretty bad.” Beth’s voice is strangely calm. “Although actually, not quite the worst case scenario? But close, yeah. Real close.”

“Shit,” Whiskey mutters.

“Yeah. My dad’s gone off somewhere – he sort of just got up and left, pretty soon after I’d said it? So that’ll be lots of fun when he gets back. Mom’s a lot calmer, comparatively. Said she needs to think. Which I’ve classified as ambiguous, but not completely hopeless.”

“What about…” Whiskey begins, his tone hoarse, and then he doesn’t finish the sentence.

He can’t finish the sentence.

“Oh, your folks weren’t too bad.” Beth pauses for a moment, as if to think. “I got the feeling they weren’t really angry – it was more like pity, I guess? Which wasn’t super fun either, gotta admit that. Your mom said it’s so sad I’ll never have children, and so of course I had to deliver the news that many lesbian women have plenty of kids, and then she looked, like, super confused. I’m so fucking relieved she stopped asking questions, after that.”

Whiskey gets up, only to sit back down again. He’s trembling all over. It’s almost like he can feel the way his whole world has just shifted, like there’s an actual, physical change between right now and five minutes ago.

"Are you… D'you need anything? What can I do?"

"Oh, Connor." Beth's tone is uncharacteristically soft. "You know, I pretty much knew I’d never have to worry about your reaction. Because actually, I have a feeling you get it – like, really get it. Don’t you?”

Whiskey freezes.

"Considering your hockey team," Beth continues, completely oblivious. "Your captain is the first out something, isn’t he? Which is so cool, by the way, even though I don’t give many fucks about hockey.”

It takes Whiskey a moment to find his voice again.

"First out NCAA men’s hockey captain,” he rattles off, and it’s lucky that’s something he could quote in his sleep, or he’d get the words all mixed up. “Yeah, uh. That was Bitty. He graduated this spring. But our captain this year – Dex – is actually dating his defence partner, so.”

"Defence what now?"

"Another player on our team."

“Wow,” Beth says, and there’s something not unlike wonder in her tone. “I guess it’s all true, those things they say about Samwell.”

“Yeah,” Whiskey returns unsteadily. “You have no idea, Beth.”

Beth is quiet for a moment.

“So I’m flying back tomorrow,” she says, and for some reason her voice sounds a little different from before – more determined. “You know, Samwell is less than a four hour drive from Columbia.”

“Is that so.”

“It is. We could, y’know. Hang out sometime? Anyway, you should meet Melanie.”

“... Oh,” Whiskey says, and it’s like he has to pause and process all over again. “Melanie. Huh.”

“You’ll like Mel,” Beth says eagerly. “And I could meet your team, maybe? That’d be fun.”

“That would be fun,” Whiskey says after a beat – it surprises him, that he actually, genuinely means it. He’s missed Beth. “Yeah. We should do that.”

“See, this is why you’re my favourite cousin.” Beth sounds extremely pleased. “Josh and Amy haven’t even returned my texts, yet.”

“To be fair, they kind of always sucked.”

“You speak the truth, my friend. Nothing but the truth.”

“Seriously, though,” Whiskey says. “If you, like, need anything? Anything at all? Let me know. We’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you.” Beth’s tone is warm. “I think I’ll be fine. Like I said, I’m flying back tomorrow, and once I’m back at school there’s not much mom and dad can do, even if they try. I’m on a full scholarship, plus I’ve already got a paid internship lined up for next summer, so I’m basically financially independent at this point. And I’ve made some really amazing friends at Columbia. They’ll help me out.”

“They’ve got your back?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay. Good.”

“So,” Beth continues, her tone for some reason a bit sly. “Your mom told me you’re back together with that girl from Phoenix? That was right before I dropped the big lesbian bomb on everyone, so I didn’t get to ask her, like, anything.”

“... Yeah,” Whiskey confirms uneasily. “We got back together during spring break last semester, yeah.”

“That’s nice.”

“I guess.”

“You guess? Don’t you know?”

“I mean, I don’t see her a lot,” Whiskey tries.

Beth hums. “Long distance, huh. That’s tough.”

“No, that’s not…” Whiskey draws a shaky breath. It’s so much easier to lie to everyone else. “Beth. Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, C.”

“Right.” Whiskey tries to keep his voice steady. “Just, can you promise me to… To pretend like I didn’t actually tell you? To just never bring it up again. Ever.”

“I mean, sure.” Beth’s tone is kind, if a little surprised. “If that’s what you want, sure.”

Whiskey closes his eyes, and breathes in.

“I slept with a guy.”

For a moment, Beth is quiet.

“All right,” she says gently. “You know that’s not the end of the world, right?”

“No, I guess.” Whiskey’s voice is shaking. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

Beth hums. “You want to do it again?”

“We uh, we did.” Whiskey clears his throat. “A few times. Last semester.”

“Hold up,” Beth says, her tone startled. “You’ve been sleeping with a guy? Frequently?”

“Not since last semester,” Whiskey reminds her quickly. “But, uh, yeah. For a while there it was every now and then.”

Beth is quiet for a moment.

“Is this the part where I smoothly change the subject and we never speak of this again? Because I’m, like, dying to get all the details.”

Whiskey almost smiles.

Somehow, breathing feels a little easier than before.

“He’s on the lacrosse team,” he supplies, surprising himself.

“Athletic,” Beth concludes, her tone giddy. “Fit? Hot?”

“Really fit,” Whiskey admits. “And like, tall?”

“Fucking get it, Connor!” Beth laughs. “But you’re not seeing each other, anymore?”

“I’m back together with my girlfriend,” Whiskey reminds her tersely. “And me and that guy weren’t ever officially anything.”

“Right,” Beth agrees easily. “Still. Glad to hear you’re getting the full Samwell experience.”

“You could say that.” Whiskey sighs. “I just. I’m not sure… I don’t think I can ever do what you just did.”

“Okay,” Beth says gently. “Do you have to, though?”

“I mean, eventually,” Whiskey tells her uneasily. “Right? People come out, eventually.”

“Not everyone does. Some people don’t.”

Whiskey blinks.

“There’s really a lot more to being gay than coming out,” Beth continues. “I would know.”

“I’m not gay,” Whiskey says reflexively – and really, he isn’t. Not strictly.

“No labels, then? Cool, cool." There's warmth in Beth's voice as she continues. "You'll figure all of this out, Connor. I'm sure you will."

"You're not the first person to tell me that."

"Let's hope I won't be the last," Beth says brightly. "So. How many people know?"

"Noone," Whiskey says quickly – too quickly. "Well, you know now. Bitty found out accidentally, and I almost told Dex. Plus I guess that guy I was with has a hunch."

"Right," Beth says, and there's no judgement in her tone. "So when we come to see you, this conversation never happened. Obviously, I'm not telling Melanie."

"Yeah," Whiskey agrees. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Beth."

"No problem. And on that happy subject, when’s a good weekend for me and Mel to drive up for some Samwell shenanigans?”

“I can send you our game schedule," Whiskey suggests.

“Connor, you know I love you, but please tell me you don’t expect me to sit through an entire game of sports.”

“I mostly meant so you’ll know when we have away games,” Whiskey says, and to his own surprise he’s grinning slightly. “You know, so that I’m not in fucking New Jersey when you show up here.”

“Okay, fair point.” Beth pauses. “By the way. Are you any good?”

“What, at hockey?”

“No, at table tennis.” The eye-roll is near audible.

“I am,” Whiskey says. “Good, I mean. I’m the top scorer on our team.”

“Well, that’s only good if the team is.”

“You know, maybe you guys should actually drive up for a game weekend,” Whiskey tells her. “It’s really not a complete Samwell experience without a proper post-game kegster.”

“A what now?”

“A party, Beth. A huge party. At the hockey frat.”

“See, now you’re talking,” Beth says excitedly. “Hey. Mind if I bring some friends?”

(ch. 6)

[luciferpens]

Loved You Once || Aurora & Kass ft Zoey

What: Another accidental run in -- except this time... more people get hurt.  Where: Poseidon Beach  When:  March 25, 2021 Who: Aurora, Kass (@kassmeifyoucan), ft Zoey (@icarialex)   TW: Abuse, death, breakups, lies, 

Pacing never seemed to actually help any kind of situation but here she was.... Pacing. She was nervous, and not just because of everything that had been going on as of late. No, it was also due to the fact that she had planned out something special. A date. An actual date where she called it a date and they both knew it was a date and—look. It was a date. Granted, she hadn’t exactly told Zoey that it was a date. She’d just said it was a surprise but... Maybe part of the surprise would be that it was actually a date? To her nerves and utter horror, Zoey wouldn��t be off of work for another half hour, maybe less depending on how long it took her to close up shop. A whole half hour for her to be alone with her thoughts. To worry over every detail. The campfire was lit, the guitar and the food basket and blankets were hidden behind a large piece of driftwood. The blonde would be none-the-wiser! It was perfect! Until it wasn’t. Because there she was. And no, not Zoey. Aurora. What the hell was she doing walking on her beach? ....Okay so it wasn’t her beach. But still. The fuck. Without missing a beat, Kassandra crossed her arms over her chest and called out to the other woman. “Um... Hey?”

—

Aurora was not used to Island life or Island time, everyone here seemed to move at a different speed, a slower one, a less get up and go sort of speed. And when you come from the chaos of LA and the FBI anything other than 100 seemed like a snail's pace. Though…. She was slowly learning to enjoy it. Those she met were slowly convincing her to take things a bit slower and enjoy the view. So she decided to take their advice and enjoy the view of the ocean. She slipped out of her shoes and laced them over her fingers as she started to slowly walk up the coast line, just letting her mind wonder and flutter between all the things going on. Running into Kass and then running into Juliette, she really should just leave. Leave them both to their lives without her showing up and being a bomb. There was so much to be done too… with Jane being taken she needed to keep her safe and then close the file; there were still other files on her desk back home, other people she needed to find; other things she needed to do -- and yet she couldn’t leave Icaria yet. Not until she was 100% sure Jane would be safe and had everything she needed here. So she was stuck. Stuck with these thoughts, this place and the anxiety of knowing every moment here meant so many other things she wasn’t ready to deal with. Lost in thought she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a familiar voice. Her hand, not the one holding the shoes, flew to her chest. “Oh -- hey.” She said with a tiny, tiny smile but as the tone of Kass’ voice registered in her head it faltered and she glanced away, “I uh -- didn’t even see you there, I can go back” she tossed her thumb over her shoulder indicating she could turn back around and walk away, give her space. “I hate to intrude or -- anything.”

—

"Its a beach, Aurora. You're allowed to be on it. I just... Sorry, I guess I find it funny and also kind of like the universe is.." Kassandra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment before she held up her hands in a surrendering motion. "Look. You can be wherever you want. I'm not going to force you to leave. It's just hard seeing you. Logically I know it shouldn't be because you're not even.... Nevermind." Kassandra breathed deeply for a moment, trying to calm herself down. The good part of this whole interaction was that Zoey wasn't here, something she was super incredibly thankful for. That would be a whole can of worms that she didn't think she was ready to explain. Mainly because Zoey, Gods bless her, was the sweetest human bean to ever exist. She'd probably be so nice that her and Aurora would become friends and -- Nope. No. Do not think like that. It was then that she realized she'd been stuck in her own head and that she should probably say something that came off as completely awful. "Enjoying the weather?" No. Not that, you absolute fucking disaster of a human-ish being.

—

"It is." Aurora said with a slow nod, she wiggled her toes into the sand trying to use it to ground herself and not get upset. She was normally so good at keeping her cool and not getting emotional, but apparently that could be thrown out the window when it came to her ex-girlfriend. Clearing her throat she tilted her head to one side. "I'm not even?" she asked eyebrow shooting upward rather curious to know where Kass's mind was taking that sentence. But when no answer came quickly she realized Kass was lost in her mind and just cleared her throat hoping the noise would snap Kass out of her thoughts.

"The weather?" She asked glancing up to the sky, the ocean then to Kassandra again, "It's a nice difference from the places I've been lately. Not having to wear a ton of layers is -- a nice change of pace.”

—

Small talk. She could do small talk. On a beach. With her girlfriend not girlfriend planning on showing up at any minute. While she was talking to her ex girlfriend. Of course, totally fine. This was normal, right? Yeah, super normal. "You're not even gay." She finished her earlier thought, hoping that Aurora would understand. "So it's not like I should be upset about that. I'm not. But that's neither here nor there. Glad you're liking the weather though. It's a lot different from Portland." Kassandra sighed, rubbing the back of her neck before taking a cautious step closer to Aurora. "Look, I'm sorry. About my behavior since you've seen me, I mean. I'm not sorry for past me because honestly... Past me is still hurting which means... Present me is also hurting." She could slap herself. "I don't know what I'm saying. You make me forget how to function and it's annoying the absolute shit out of me." Kassandra put out into the open in probably the most honest thing she's said to Aurora in a long time. "But I'll manage.... So uh. You and Brandon? Still together?" Saying his name left a bitter taste in her mouth but she pressed on, wondering if she'd genuinely felt happy for her ex or not.

—

Aurora slowly tilted her head not understanding why in the world Kass would think she was straight but as Kass continued to talk the pieces fell back into place and she slowly nodded her head letting out a huff of a laugh. "Let me -- first clear up some misconceptions." She said running her free hand through her hair and tossing it to one side. "I am not gay, this is true, but I'm also not straight. I'm demi -- well, pansexual. Have been since we were children." Aurora swung her arms behind her back and looped her fingers together. "Two, you never need to apologize to me about your past or what happened between us. I know I fucked us up and hurt you and I take full ownership of that. Yell at me if you need to, tell me you hate me or slap me if it will make you feel better. I deserve it." She shrugged.  She honestly knew she deserved it, she knew she had broken Kass when she did what she did; and while she would have done it differently knowing what she knew now -- she knew that in the moment young Aurora was doing the best she could to protect herself. "As for Brandon, no. We --" She shook her head, "Weren't ever seriously dating, after we were," she motioned between them with a free hand " he basically -- was a beard and he knew it, I knew it. It was a safety thing." She shrugged. That sounded bad, but Brandon knew something bad was happening in her house and he just -- never questioned and did what he could to give her safe spaces to come to instead of being at home where her mother was.

—

She wasn't meaning to see red, but here she was. Listening to every word that came out of Aurora's mouth and letting it cut her deep, just like her words had when they were sixteen. "You're fucking kidding me." Her arms crossed over her chest, staring incredulously at her ex. "Do you have any fucking idea how much internalized homophobia I felt because of my mom? Because of you? I get that you couldn't have told your mom. I fucking understand. But you could have told me. I spent the next two fucking years of my life hating who I was because of who I loved." Kassandra felt sick to her stomach, taking a few staggering steps away from Aurora as she bent over, hands moving to her knees as she gulped in air.  Before Aurora could potentially make a move towards her, she held up a hand. "Don't you fucking dare come near me. I can't... You.. He was a beard. And you're..." Kassandra swallowed thickly, wishing the bile away. "You're pan. So you..." Green eyes tore upwards, looking at Aurora with such a broken gaze. "What was I to you? Was I some kind of fucking joke to you? An experiment? Because clearly whatever we were didn't fucking matter if you couldn't tell me the truth. You let me believe that I wasn't..." Tears flooded her vision, nausea ramping up in her belly. "Am I worthless to everyone I try to care about?"

—

Aurora felt her heart ripping from her chest. Why she still had it she wasn't sure; her heart had been ripped out -- well now three times. Twice by the same woman. It was a useless item, only seemed to cause her pain. Gods she should just go back to Quantico. Why was she still fucking on this gods forsaken island? Seeing Kass crying, seeing her in such pain made Aurora want to throw up. She never meant to hurt her. "I --" she shook her head, "I don't think you totally understand why couldn't tell my mom, why I had to do what I did." she swallowed, looking away and stopping herself from moving to comfort her ex love. "I'm so, so so, fucking sorry about it all, about hurting you, about -- all of it, Kass, I really am." She sucked in her lips tears welling in her eyes. "You are -- were the one person on this planet I love--d more than anything" She caught herself caught the present tense and while sure, it was still true she didn't need to hurt Kass more.  "I couldn't tell anyone the truth. I didn't even tell my own father until I was already 18 and about to graduate highschool. I didn't tell a SOUL about all the abuse I suffered through until I was 23 and -- honestly since then you're the only other person I've even mentioned it to." she shook her head thrusting her hand down to her side before stepping forward, anger in her movements but determination as well. "Don't you fucking dare Kassandra." She didn't curse often, but here she was, cursing and angry too. "You are not in any way worthless Kass. I didn't -- break up with you because I didn't love you. I loved you so much that I had to to keep my crazy mother from literally killing one of us. You have never -- ever been worthless and I am so sorry I ever made you think you were."

—

All Zoey had to go off of was a cryptic text from Kass telling her to meet the woman at the beach after she got off from work. Typically she’d worry about not having her bathing suit on her that day, but since the brunette didn’t like getting in the water, she didn’t worry so much. Zoey would rather spend her time with Kassandra than swim anyway. She could do the latter anytime. Still, she wasn’t used to being antsy to close shop. The artist loved her work, but she’d be lying if she didn’t love spending time with the mysterious and sometimes juxtaposing woman as well. When five o’clock finally came around, Zoey closed everything up and then began her short walk to the beach. She checked in with Noreen on the way to make sure everything was okay at the Inn, and then followed Kassandra’s directions on which street entrance to take that was closest to her destination. The blonde was so engrossed in her phone that she didn’t notice how close she was to her desired spot until she heard Kass yelling. The pain in her tone caused pain in her heart, but Zoey stood back and waited. It seemed important, and the illustrator didn’t know if she should interfere. 

She had no idea who the other woman was until she heard her mess up between love and loved. Then, Zoey’s heart stopped. Aurora. That’s who it had to be. Not being ready or able to hear what Kass’ reaction to that would be, she turned back around and walked away. Zoey wouldn’t go far because she’d seen the effort Kassandra had put into setting everything up in the background. So, she found a nearby bench, sat down, and did what she always did when she was upset or anxious. Zoey began to sketch.

—

Her brain had turned off as the rage and nausea consumed her, Kassandra staring at Aurora as she looked at her with that unreadable expression. It all shifted in her face when she stumbled over her words, stumbled over that word. Her eyes narrowed, she wanted to challenge that. Because no. No. Aurora didn't fucking get to do that to her. Not after a decade. But before she could even get out a word edgewise, the other woman was rounding on her. Kass visibly flinched, taking a step back as she wrapped her arms around her torso. It was then that she heard footsteps from behind her, causing her to turn around to see Zoey's retreating form. No.... No no no. Fuck. She wanted to go off after Zoey but she knew she had to deal with the woman who was right here, in front of her. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to come back into my life and stumble over that word, Aurora. I loved you. Loved. Past tense. I thought... I thought that a part of me would always love you. But I don't know how I could ever..." Love someone who hid the truth from me. She couldn't even say it, realizing how much of a hypocrite that would make her. "You were my first love. And I want to one day not hate you. But you don't get to insinuate that you still love me. Not after... Not after everything. Not after twelve fucking years." A tear fell down a cheek, Kassandra quickly wiping it away. "I need to go because that woman you saw walk away? Unlike you..." She locked their gazes, taking another step backwards in the direction of where Zoey had gone. "I can't let a good thing slip through my fingers." Kassandra turned to walk towards where she'd seen the blonde head off to, stopping for a moment to turn her head just enough so it was barely looking over her shoulder. "I need time.. Time to process what you've told me. Just please don't... Don't hurt me again." And with that, she walked away.

—

Seeing the flinch made Aurora recoil, to fold in on herself. She never wanted to be scary to people she cared about; those she was hunting for work, sure 100% she'd be fine being seen as threatening. But Kass? No she didn't want to do that. She took a couple stumbling steps backwards as Kassandra spoke. There was a stab of pain in her chest. She knew better than to not calculate her every word, when she let her mouth run she got hurt. This was just more proof of that. More proof she needed to slow down and think before she spoke.  As Kassandra continued, as she laid into her, saying she didn't know how she could ever her stomach dropped. She didn't connect the dots, didn't totally realize there was more to be said and instead took it as a sentence. A statement. Kass, in Aurora's mind, didn't know how she could ever have loved her. Right. This -- this was. She deserved that. She didn't deserve to say the things she did, even if some part of it still felt true to her. Nope. The muscles tightened in her jaw as her fists clenched and tears threatened to spill. Another jab as she mentioned the other woman; some blonde who had walked up looked confused, hurt and then walked away. She just nodded and watched as Kass started to walk off. She was unmovable. Frozen as still as a statue as Kass slowed for a moment to say one last thing. She didn't look up, didn't dare even breathe. She waited a few moments until she could hear Kass's steps fade and she finally let out a breath. With that breath the tears came, the anger flowed and she felt an intense level of fear and hatred towards herself. She turned on a dime, kicked the sand creating a small cloud before she walked off, eyes down.... only to stop ten feet forward and see what Kass had been hiding when she first walked up. Oh. She had messed up a date with -- that blonde girl and now -- she felt even fucking worse. She slipped her shoes on and started to run, exercise  being the only thing to clear her mind.