#because I delve into this way more in chapter 2 and 3 of that because it's all about Pac and Mike

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Thinking about Bad and Mike's discussion about hugging, specifically this quote—

Mike: Sometimes, when you're hugging someone, you can let your emotions out, you know? You feel... how can I explain... [...] Sometimes we all need a hug. Sometimes like, I don't know, sometimes when you have lots of problems on your mind, sometimes you give your loved one a hug and it gives them relief, you know? I think so, at least. * (Very approximate translation)

— and how it applies to q!Tazercraft.

Do you ever think about young q!Tazercraft fresh out of the orphanage with no one else but each other? Little Pac wrapping his arms around Mike and holding him as they fall asleep, them going from place to place to find shelter in abandoned shacks and buildings and huddling under the same blanket out of necessity but also because it's comforting to know someone else is there? Pac and Mike never growing out of this habit, especially after the events in prison and the kidnappings on the Island, always finding reason to stay near each other, always bumping shoulders and elbows or casually throwing an arm around each others' shoulders. Always tactile, always so expressive with their love through hugs and physical touch... :(

[the-world-of-nai]

pick a sign; a message you need to hear right now✧.*

pile 1 -> pile 2 pile 3 -> pile 4

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THE SONG OF YOUR PILE BECAUSE THEY ARE REALLY SPOT ON THIS TIME AROUND!!

pile one

you have a strong energy. some of you could be in a situationship/friends w benefits, or entering one soon. you are someone who takes pride in their appearance. you could also be popular or have some level of fame. if that is not the current case, then it is coming in the near future. it's advised that you have more fun in life. dream more, think bigger, and have more fun. i see that you may have some mental fog right now because you overthink things quite a bit. you may feel like you are not smart, or do not make smart decisions. i advise you to get rid of this insecurity. go out and party with your friends. focus on your healing. focus on the dreams and hopes you had as a child. they will guide you.

zodiac: aquarius, leo

song: basics - twice

pile two

you are in a stable, self-focused energy. i see you have been building up your wealth. either your investments have paid off and you are now rich, or that is coming in the near future. it is advised that you do not make any sudden decisions at this time. resist the urge to be impulsive. take plenty of time to rest, relax, recharge and better understand your own emotions. emotional stability is highlighted here. i see this pile has been working on themselves. money is coming in like crazy. and what's more is a twin flame relationship. if you are already with someone, i see this person could be the one. if you are single, get ready for someone coming in very soon. continue to stay in this emotionally mature, self-nurturing energy and you will attract great things in your life!

zodiac: pisces, gemini

song: radio - lana del rey

pile three

wow.. the energy of this pile is heartbreaking. i am sorry for whatever it is that you are going through. i see some of you could be going through a breakup, conflict with loved ones, etc. lots of conflict here. i am seeing something about divorce, so some of you may be divorced or your parents have just been divorced. i see that you may be depressed, extremely sad and heartbroken. if that is the case, i am so sorry. you may be feeling stuck in life and like you do not know how to move forward. spirit is saying that the troubles in your life stem from those around you. they are causing you grief and anxiety. it is advised that you direct all of your energy into yourself, your career and creative hobbies. take advantage of this loneliness by becoming the person you always dreamed of being. keep the faith, keep your head held high. it may help you to delve deeper into spirituality at this time. this is just a bad chapter, things WILL get better so DO NOT GIVE UP!

zodiac: taurus, pisces, aquarius, leo

song: epiphany - bts

pile four

you may be in denial of something in your life right now. i see that you are the type of person who will lie to yourself about your current situation so that you can avoid making the necessary changes. you are either in a toxic relationship, or you are a toxic individual. toxic individual can mean many things, but in this case i am getting that you exhibit self destructive and toxic behaviors, yet you do not change them. you may lie to other people often, you may smoke a lot or sleep around a lot too. you could be this way because of a significant relationship in your life that came to an end. you may be the type of person who enjoys conflict in relationships because that is normal to you. it is advised that you address these patterns and heal them if you want to be truly happy in this lifetime.

zodiac: capricorn, taurus, gemini, libra, aquarius

song: love foolish - twice

[bluemooniegif]

Soukoku's first meeting could not have been written more perfectly. Allow me to explain

A quick note on the manga panels: these are fan translations from BSD Bibliophile. At one stage they refer to Dazai as 'the youngest boss in Mafia history,' and the executive meeting as 'a meeting of five bosses.' This is just a stylistic choice! All of the panels shown here are from chapters 8 (volume 2), 10 & 11 (volume 3)

I love this scene more than life itself, because it is literally the PERFECT introduction to Chuuya, his character, and his relationship with Dazai. Let's talk about it!

First: some context. Dazai seems to be in a bit of a predicament- he's walked right into a trap set by the Port Mafia, an organisation that we don't know much about at this stage in the story. What we do know, and what we can observe, is this:

Dazai is a former executive, and appears to have walked into the trap on purpose

He is now being held in a room that Akutagawa describes very negatively- the fact of being here is dangerous

Dazai reveals that Akutagawa was once his subordinate, and that he thought very lowly of him at the time. He claims to still think of him this way. Akutagawa has a violent reaction to this.

This is a PERFECT example of 'showing, not telling' within a story. Rather than making a bunch of asides, describing what Dazai and Akutagawa are feeling and why, Asagiri & Harukawa have plopped us into the middle of a rather awkward reunion. I feel like I've walked into my friend's Christmas dinner and am now witnessing family politics unfold real time. It's like watching a car crash.

Now, we move between settings a bit, jumping around to watch Yosano DESTROY Kajii, Atsushi rescue Kyouka, and subsequently be injured and kidnapped by Akutagawa. We watch the Agency fall into disarray when Fukuzawa demands that everyone go looking for Atsushi- interesting, considering that Dazai is IN THE BASEMENT OF THE PORT MAFIA RIGHT NOW.

I've had lots of discussions and arguments about the meaning and significance of this. I won't delve too deep into it for now, but the way I see it is this: something the ADA is really REALLY good at is splitting up Mystery-Inc. style and working to solve cases etc., together, but apart. Dazai is also something of a stray dog (... cat), regularly wandering off and reappearing of his own accord. He's been with the ADA for several years at this point, and they would understand the way he operates well. Even if there's no indication whether he explicitly told anyone what he's doing or where he's going (which honestly, does that matter, when Ranpo would know immediately anyway?), we can safely assume that this is more or less a regular thing for them.

Anyway, back to the point. the Agency is not fazed by Dazai's disappearance... and neither, for some reason, is Dazai. He stands chained to the wall in the PM's basement- the same one, we discover later, where he's brutally tortured countless victims and traitors, and he's humming a little tune to himself, smiling, totally relaxed. We as the audience know he's pretty unflappable, and Akutagawa's expression when he sees him confirms this, too.

But. BUT. This doesn't last.

With the ADA descending into chaos, we switch perspectives back to Dazai again. He's bored at this stage, and thinking to himself that they must be searching for Atsushi soon (an indication that he was riling Akutagawa up earlier, btw) when he hears it: A voice that makes his resolve crack. A look of panic on his face that, at this stage, we haven't seen yet.

He turns, and we see Chuuya for the first time! He's got this strange smug look on his face, something deeply vindictive. Here's a current mafia executive, and he's so happy to see Dazai chained to the wall of their Torture Basement that you can't help but wonder... is there something that Dazai did to him, personally, that makes him feel this way? Or is this guy just so deeply involved with the PM that the fact Dazai left is like a personal slight against him?

Now, we don't really have long enough to truly panic over this predicament, because almost immediately these two fall into their old habits. Dazai isn't PLEASED, but he isn't afraid. He goes right into bantering with Chuuya, who surprisingly meets him right in the middle. Their regular dynamic shines right through: it's quick-witted quips, inside jokes, and knowing looks. It's this odd relaxation in their posture. In all of this, we have an acknowledgement of what they were, and evidence to suggest that they still are... whatever that thing is. Whatever you wanna call it: partners, boyfriends, best friends, buddies. That much is up to interpretation; the only undeniable fact is that they once knew each other better than themselves, and still do.

Then, the fight. This, to me, comes across as more of a way to display how powerful they both are individually: Chuuya punches concrete so hard it shatters in several places, Dazai snaps his fingers and breaks out of handcuffs.

We have front-row seats to what is in my opinion one of the best action sequences in early BSD, not just for what physically transpires, but what it tells us: they deeply understand each other on multiple levels. They're constantly predicting each other's moves, and they know where each other's weak spots are.

But there's also been a lot of growth. Dazai surprises Chuuya a few times, and vice-versa. Despite their apparent closeness, it's still clear that they haven't been together like this for a long, long time.

Then, they reach checkmate. It appears as though Chuuya has won, and we're fed some more Dazai lore- he was the youngest executive the PM ever saw.

This is how Chuuya remembers Dazai. Again, I want to remind you that this is the first time so far we're seeing PM-zai, and he is worlds away from the Dazai we've grown to know so far.

Though Chuuya seems to have driven Dazai into a corner, the roles are quickly reversed when Dazai claims to know something about a meeting between all five of the Mafia's executives. Chuuya quickly realises this is one of his 'predictions,' further proving the depth of their mutual understanding.

With hindsight, we know just how big a deal a meeting of this scale is, and knowing a certain stormbro (who I won't reveal just in case of spoilers) will be there makes me lose my mind, personally. It clearly affects Chuuya, as well, which was undoubtedly Dazai's goal.

With the power balance disrupted again, they quickly fall back into that same bantering dynamic. The volatile nature of their relationship is so perfectly portrayed within this short scene that it actually makes me sick, I genuinely don't think it could have been more perfect

Anyway. Chuuya has realised, at this stage, that Dazai had multiple goals when he allowed himself to be kidnapped, and one of those was to piss Chuuya off (which is something I think he could've managed even if Chuuya wasn't physically there). This, in turn, pisses Chuuya off, especially when he realises the predicament Dazai has left him in- let him escape, or the Mafia suffers. A test of loyalty, Chuuya's greatest weakness. Do you understand why I am tearing my hair out and howling at the moon??? This is fucking insanity.

And then, the final moment! The part we all know and love! Not only does Chuuya choose to err on the side of caution, allowing Dazai to escape- he also leaves with the repetition of another inside joke. And Dazai laughs- he looks genuinely happy, too.

That is all. I'm gonna go cry now ಥ_ಥ

read this original thread on twitter

[kanekisfavoritegf]

PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

CHAPTER TWO 1/2: A Short interlude as I will myself to live and complete chapter 3.

The drive from Kento’s apartment was short enough to make you consider walking next time. If there was ever another situation in which you’d be leaving Kento’s apartment in the morning.

“And where the hell have you been?” You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Yuki’s voice. You turned around to meet her smug face from across the hall, smirking like she knew something you didn’t.

“Such a warm welcome from my favorite neighbor,” You quipped, unlocking your door.

“You were at Kenny’s, right?” 

“Kenny? Who i– Oh! Kento. Yeah.”

Yuki followed in after you, her eyes lingering on the clothes you threw into the washer. It was only then that she realized you were wearing her university’s graphic tee. This might have been an ordinary occurrence any other day, but not when you spent the night at her old university friend and coworker’s house, especially not Nanami’s.

“You didn’t sleep with him, right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” Yuki sighed.

“Good? Is he dating someone?” You felt your breath hold as you wondered aloud, only releasing it once answered.

“No, he doesn’t date.”

“Like at all?”

“Nope.”

“Is there a reason?” 

“It's not my story to tell.” Yuki shook her head. “He is touchy about the subject.” You only nodded.

“Not even casual hookups?”

“Hey! No.” You would have been offended at the harshness of Yuki’s voice if her expression of horror had not been so amusing, “He is off limits.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is the lonely virgin; one hookup with you, and you will ruin him.” It was a little surprising to hear Kento was still a virgin, but not because of his age, but his demeanour. The way he carried himself. Indeed, he must have had someone he wanted to be with that intimately; surely someone would want him so intimately, but then again, you only knew him for a few hours; who knows what he is actually like.

“You make it seem like I am some succubus.”

“You might as well be Y/N.”You only rolled your eyes at her. “Listen to me, Y/N,” Yuki’s hands cupped your face like a child needing grave warning. “You can not deflower poor Kento.”

“He isn’t a child.”

“I know, but–” Yuki lost the words on her tongue, knowing no explanation would do it justice. “Just don’t. He isn’t Satoru or Suguru. He is a decent man, and if you slept with him, hell, if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.”

“You hummed a sound of agreement and went to your bedroom to change. Thoughts of Kento are still in your mind; the more Yuki speaks about him, the more you want to pull back each layer of him to see what exactly makes him the way he is. Yuki’s words still echoed in your head as you showered “hell if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.” But it was already too late. Kento Nanami was undeniably curious about you, just as much as you to him.

TAG LIST: @marikuchanxo @sukunasstomachtongue @getosgirlfailure @allysunny @tojicvmslut @typefeisu @aiyaaayei @villsophie @sillysillygoofygoose @jinleft @rivversin @haikioo @destinyblue-jjk @ramonathinks @actuallysaiyan @actuallysaiyan @melisuh123 @ureuphoriasworld @jaeminsmilk @rileyglas @bonnieblue0606 @alwaysfreakingout @lovelyiida @ayesayman @dreamgirl5300 @swoozleee @belle-oftheball34 @zeunys @yuzu-ku @aomi04 @y0urpr3ttyp0ck3tpussy @zombriesworld @hazzelle-kento @miinhooo

CHAPTER THREE loading...

[olenvasynyt]

“It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.”

I really need to talk about this, and the fight Feyre and Lucien have in ACOFAS in general because Feyre is so wildly frustrating during this whole conversation, and I want to delve into it line by line.

So this is when Lucien arrives for the Winter Solstice.  Elain has left the room and the argument him and Feyre have begins with Feyre saying he should live in Velaris.

Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: “‘You could come live here, is all I’m saying,’ I pushed.  ‘Truly live here, stay in Velaris for longer than a few days at a time.  We could get you nicer quarters—‘ Lucien got to his feet.  ‘I don’t need your charity.’”

First issue that isn’t a huge deal but “nicer quarters”?  Not a home, just quarters, an allowance, a charity, as Lucien says here?

And it just keeps going downhill, because when he explains that he is getting along with Vassa and Jurian just fine, she is almost taken aback and shows a bit of jealousy.  Her biases are really starting to show as well as her lack of self-awareness.

I rose as well.  ‘But Jurian and Vassa’s is fine?’ ‘You’d be surprised to see how well the three of us get along.’ Friends, I realized.  They had somehow become his friends.  ‘So you would rather stay with them?’ ‘I’m not staying with them.  The manor is ours.’” ‘Interesting.’ His golden eye whirred.  ‘What is.’ Not feeling very festive at all, I said sharply, ‘That you now feel more comfortable with humans than with the High Fae.  If you ask me—' ‘I’m not.’ ‘It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.’”

She lashes out and basically says that the Night Court isn’t Lucien’s home.  

This part is so awful to me for multiple reasons. Now, there is the critique of Lucien having prejudices towards humans in ACOTAR.  That is probably the only critique I will accept, he was an ass in the first book; the way he talked about humans negatively impacted Feyre.  And this could be applied to Eyre’s side of this argument, Feyre could be like “huh you’re friends with humans now, that’s interesting.  You always shat on humans before.”

But I do not think this can be applied to this argument because 1. Feyre, after her change to High Fae, is more comfortable with Fae than with humans, we can see this in ACOMAF, she does not like eating human food, she is hyperaware of all of the differences between being fae and being human.

and 2. Feyre and Lucien have had a conversation about the human war in ACOWAR.  Lucien said he would have fought for the humans if he was alive during the War:

Chapter 3 of ACOWAR: “‘If you’d been alive for the War, would you have fought on their side?  Or fought for the humans?’ ‘I would have been a part of the human-Fae alliance.’ ‘Even if your father wasn’t?’ ‘Especially if my father wasn’t.’”

Maybe he has had some prejudices against humans before but he does explain he would fight for their freedom, he talks about how he disliked their alliance with Hybern.  I always viewed his comments on humans in the first book as him directing his anger and frustration with Feyre and not his idea of humans in general.  He did not like Feyre for killing Andras and he had very little hope when it came to the curse. And after Lucien sends Feyre to capture the Suriel and almost gets her killed, he feels guilty and is also like “Feyre…I thought you would be more mad at me for this” and she is like “nah I get it, I killed your friend.”

Chapter 18 of ACOTAR: “‘You can’t possibly forgive me that easily for sending you into danger.’ ‘No.  And part of me would like nothing more than to wallop you for your lack of warning about the Suriel.  But I understand: I am a human who killed your friend, who now lives in your house, and you have to deal with me.  I understand.’"

People shit on Lucien for that moment but this was when he finally realized who Feyre actually is.  He realizes his mistake in judging Feyre and apologizes.  And this is when their friendship starts to truly develop.  

"‘Tam told me that your first shot was to save the Suriel’s life.  Not your own.’ ‘It seemed like the right thing to do.’ The look he gave me was more contemplative than any he’d give me before.  ‘I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered.’”

And 3. also he met Vassa, Jurian and Feyre’s father and other humans during his mission to find Vassa and an army.

So him having past prejudices towards humans should not and is not Feyre’s issue with him being friends with Vassa and Jurian.    Feyre does not bring that up to him or imply it in her inner dialogue.  It seems like her issue is Lucien found friends outside of the Night Court.

“Friends, I realized.  They had somehow become his friends.  ‘So you would rather stay with them?’”

She almost sounds like she is jealous or confused.  “You would rather stay with them and not with me and the IC?”  It’s almost like she’s thinking “why don’t you love the IC and the Night Court as much as I do?” which is so ironic to me and lacking any self-awareness! You should know why he doesn’t like going to the NC, Feyre. He explains it after this moment in the conversation. 

And I will get to that point later, I want to go in order because Feyre just keeps going downhill:

After Feyre implies that Lucien doesn’t have a home, Lucien then makes a boundary.  

“Lucien stared at me, long and hard.  ‘Happy Solstice to you, Feyre.’”

He is saying, “I am done with this conversation, I do not want to talk to you anymore, I am leaving.”  

“He turned toward the foyer, but I grabbed his arm to halt him.  The corded muscle of his forearm shirted beneath the fine silk of the sapphire jacket, but he made no move to shake me off.  ‘I didn’t mean that.  You have a home here.  If you want it.’”

And Feyre does try to apologize and correct herself because she knows she was wrong for basically implying he doesn’t have a home but she is cutting over this line Lucien drew.  You can tell Lucien does not like it when she grabs him and forces him to stop leaving.

He does not want to talk to her about this, and for good reason because when he is like “alright I will continue this conversation” and begins to explain to her the Band of Exiles, she interrupts him, dismisses him, makes fun of him.  

“Lucien studied the sitting room, the foyer beyond and the dining room on its other side.  ‘The Band of Exiles.’ ‘The what?’ ‘That’s what we call ourselves.  The Band of Exiles.’ ‘You have a name for yourselves.’  I fought my incredulous tone. He nodded.  ‘Jurian isn’t an exile.’ Vassa, yes.  Lucien, two times over now. ‘He can call himself whatever he likes.’ But I asked, ‘and what, exactly, does this Band of Exiles plan to do?  Host events?  Organize party planning committees?’”

Frustration 1 with her saying, “what is the band of exiles planning to do?  Organize party planning committees?” Two pages ago there was a whole conversation and inner dialogue about how there has been no governing in the southern human lands and that Vassa and Jurian have a vision for the future and want to change, they are planning to actually do something for the humans and the land you used to live in as a human.

“[Vassa and Jurian] both trying to lead the humans who occupied the sliver of land at the southernmost end of Prythian.  Left ungoverned for so long.  Far too long. “‘Mercifully, their vision for the future of the human territories is mostly aligned.’”

and frustration 2. He was trying to explain to you his genuine feelings and struggles!

“I made friends who have something in common with me, who appreciate me,” and she interrupts him and she makes fun of him for it!  It sucks!

The Band of Exiles is a stupid name, I love Lucien but I do cringe whenever I hear that name.  And they have always had this back-and-forth banter and crude jokes with each other, but this is a terrible moment to joke around because Lucien is trying to explain his feelings and his reasons, but she’s just being dismissive.

Also another point: her looking down at him for having a group name.  She also has a group name with her friends.  The Court of Dreams, the Inner Circle.  And those aren’t any less cheesy, y'all, I’m sorry, I said it. 🤷‍♀️

Another thing that is so goddamn frustrating to me is he is like “these are all the reasons why I don’t like being in the Night Court.”  1. He can’t stand to be in the same room as Elain, he is upset that she is avoiding him.  2. He doesn’t like getting charity from her and Rhys.  And 3. he also hates how Feyre and Rhys ruined his chance of going back to the Spring Court because of the way she used him to get revenge, and the way Rhys acted with Tamlin when he visits.

“‘I don’t have anywhere else to go.  You ruined any chance I have of going back to Spring.  Not to Tamlin, but to the court beyond his house.  Everyone either believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicit in your deceit.’  ‘I can’t stand to be in the same room as [Elain] for more than two minutes.  I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back…' ‘…Tamlin sent it to our manor yesterday.  My clothes.  My belongings.  All of it.’”

And Feyre acknowledges this.  But she doesn’t feel guilty despite seeing how upset it made Lucien, how it so negatively impacted him.

“‘But the blame for that behavior was not on Tamlin’s shoulders alone.  I’d created that rift.  Ripped it apart with my own two hands. I didn’t quite feel guilty enough to warrant apologizing for it.  Not yet.  Possibly not ever.”

She can still hold resentment towards Tamlin but why can’t she apologize for how it affects Lucien?  I really dislike Feyre and Rhys because of this, and regardless of this making them look inconsiderate and thoughtless, I think this makes her and Rhys look like bad rulers.  Lucien is like, "this affected me negatively, but it’s also going to affect you.  And probably Prythian.  This was a bad call on your part."

“‘Why?’ ‘Perhaps it had something to do with your mate’s visit the other day.’ ‘Rhys didn’t involve you in that.’ ‘He might as well have…your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male.’ ‘I can’t say I’m particularly sorry that he did.’ ‘You will need Tamlin as an ally before the dust has settled.  Tread carefully.’ “I didn’t want to think about it, consider it, today.  Any day.”

Feyre just dismisses it.  She does not want to consider what Lucien is saying.  

The one thing I will sort of applaud Feyre for is when she tells Elain that Lucien is a good male after he leaves.

“‘He brought you a present.’ ‘And that entitles him to my time, my affections?’ ‘No.  But he is a good male.’  Despite our harsh words.  Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit.  ‘He cares for you.’”

However, she is lashing out at Elain because she’s frustrated with the conversation she just had and is upset that she was in the wrong.  

“I know I wasn’t truly angry with her, not angry at anyone but myself, but I said, ‘You couldn’t say a single word to him?  A pleasant greeting?’”

Feyre is misdirecting because she does not want to think about her mistakes.

I have some issues with Elain, it’s very true that she doesn’t owe anything to Lucien just because she’s his mate, I think it would be better for her to stop avoiding Lucien and actually say her feelings.  But I’m talking about Feyre in this video, I can make a Lucien and Elain video later.

I don’t know, Feyre has really gone downhill for me after ACOWAR.  You can still like her but I know I’m not the only one who dislikes her now and Feyre’s mistakes and biases and the way she hurts people cannot be ignored.  

Idk what else to say besides Lucien. Deserves. Better.

[erinwantstowrite]

Do you know roughly how much of chapter 15 are gonna be like content warnings or about peters child abuse? I'm trying to avoid as much of the triggering content as I can but I also want to read as much of the chapter as I safely can

If not do you know roughly where in the chapter that content is gonna be?

i will put be putting trigger warnings before the chapter with more detail (because i haven't written a particular scene yet so i don't know the specifics of what i'll need to mention), but i can give a general idea

(this will be below the cut. please take care of yourself. i will be talking about child abuse in many forms. there's four paragraphs, giving a general statement about the content, but will not be going into detail)

it's going to get very heavy. peter alludes to a lot of things he's been through with foster parents. in the first scene, peter has a physical reaction and starts apologizing, dick and wally both reassure him and have a talk about it, so peter will feel safe. peter does not notice that he even has this reaction. but it opens the door to dick having to ask questions so that he DOESN'T accidentally trigger peter, and that's most of the chapter. scene 1, and scene 3/4 (while there's not a break, this scene will feel like 2 different scenes, and the second part is where this is brought up) will be talking about the child abuse with dick, because dick asks about it

peter will not be having flashbacks or going into extreme detail, but he will be talking about it and some of the specifics with dick. he'll talk about the different foster parents he had, he'll talk about just how many people in his life died, he'll talk about the impact that it had on him, etc. he'll also be talking about various forms of child abuse, both physical and mental, from multiple foster parents. but he won't be talking about what westcott did beyond the day that peter ran away. peter is not ready to talk about the SA, so he won't be doing so. there will be a fic in the LoF series that delves into that (but again I'll say that I will not be including flashbacks nor describing in detail what happened to him. it will be talked about, peter will be having reactions and working through it, but i do not want to write the actual scene of it happening. and in that fic, which is a while from now, dick will also be talking about his own SA).

And I really, really have to mention that Peter's narration on this topic is unreliable and biased. the way that he views his trauma is not the way that he should, he still has a lot to go with healing from his past. His narration could be triggering because of how he views himself. he thinks that how he went about this was stupid, but no one around peter will think the same. dick will talk to him about this and peter's viewpoint will start to shift. but in the beginning, it's very sad to see

I hope to do this topic justice and in a way that doesn't hurt any of my readers. I have people that will look over this chapter to make sure that I do, but that responsibility falls on me. I value you all and I care about your well being. I get a lot of asks talking about how they can relate to Peter in LoF, and please know that even if I don't respond to these asks (potentially triggering topics) I see you and I hear you. I'm so sorry that you were left behind and hurt. You didn't deserve what happened to you, no one does. You are important and I'm glad you're with us today. Please take care of yourself. If you find that reading chapter 15 will be too much, I understand completely. I will be putting a summary of the chapter on my page to give an overview of what happened but without the details. It will be a clinical transcript of sorts.

[newera-interactiveif]

My people! I am alive! And currently working on chapter 3 of New Era and an update for my other fantasy WIP. So you understand well, I am rewriting chapter 3, in part, because I was unsatisfied with the direction it was going and ended up getting blocked, so I redid everything, and created and organized new scenes from the beginning to the end of chapter 3, and also chapter 4.

The update? I hope to bring it soon (I know, I know 😅😅 it's been more than two months, and soon is not exactly what I've brought so far. I'm sorry, I genuinely was going to bring chapter 3 after some time of the update on Patreon, but things happened and I changed my mind about the things in chapter 3) but more precisely, I plan to bring it about 10 days after the update on Patreon, at least the first part, the second part will come later.

And I'm having crazy ideas (in a positive way, not negative, calm down) about retranslating and adding choices to chapters 1 and 2 of New Era. It will be something similar to what I did in my other WIP, but first I will talk to you about it, explain exactly what I will do, and all of you will vote yes or no after I present the options and tell you scenes and things that I will add in this retranslation. Then you will decide, all of you, and vote in a poll about it.

A tiny piece of these ideas so you don't get too anxious would be to set the beginning of the WIP after 6 months, and not a year later, which would bring new options and scenes, including Jason (He was a RO before, but I ended up removing him as an option because I couldn't come up with ideas that moved forward with him), and one of the ideas/scenes would be the MC transforming him after an accident (although I am still considering changing this about whether it would be an accident or not), or not, and saving his life? And it would also include some other things involving Taylor, Alice, Cassie, and even Diego.

These are just ideas, for now... But we'll see what you decide when I delve deeper into them. Any questions? Feel free to ask.

[waitmyturtles]

Turtles Catches Up With Old GMMTV: A Honorable Mention For War of Y, and Another Look at How Thai BL Talks About BL (With a Bonus Watch of BL: Broken Fantasy)

[What’s going on here? After joining Tumblr and discovering Thai BLs through KinnPorsche in 2022, I began watching GMMTV’s new offerings -- and realized that I had a lot of history to catch up on, to appreciate the more recent works that I was delving into. From tropes to BL frameworks, what we’re watching now hails from somewhere, and I’m learning about Thai BL's history through what I’m calling the Old GMMTV Challenge (OGMMTVC). Starting with recommendations from @absolutebl on their post regarding how GMMTV is correcting for its mistakes with its shows today, I’ve made an expansive list to get me through a condensed history of essential/classic/significant Thai BLs produced by GMMTV and many other BL studios. My watchlist, pasted below, lists what I’ve watched and what’s upcoming, along with the reviews I’ve written so far. Today, I take a look at the more recent attempts by the Thai BL industry to critique itself with War of Y and the mini-documentary, BL: Broken Fantasy.]

2022's War of Y. Let me start this piece off by saying that this show is not good. My friend and BL elder educator, @bengiyo, once said about the OGMMTVC project, that some people (LIKE ME :'( ) just have to look into the abyss to satiate their curiosity about how this genre has developed, and that's definitely a point of the OGMMTVC. Not all past Thai BL shows are good, not by a long shot, and I don't recommend War of Y if you're watching dramas for pleasurable experiences only. (If you want to watch a GREAT drama that critiques the Thai BL industry, start with 2021's Lovely Writer, and I'll get more into this later.)

War of Y, directed by the chaotic Cheewin Thanamin and the I-am-assuming-to-be-misanthropic-and-indulgently-self-righteous-and-preening Den Panuwat, gave us 20 episodes of what I believe they thought to be groundbreaking critical art about the currently Thai BL industry. Let me set up an outline so that I don't spend too long on the bad stuff, and explain why War of Y does at least get an important mention (but not an official inclusion) on the OGMMTVC list.

1) What was War of Y about, how it was structured, and some quick high points, 2) Comparing War of Y to other pieces of Thai BL fiction that did a better job of critiquing Thai BL culture, and 3) A close-out reflection of Aam Anusorn's 2020 mini-documentary, BL: Broken Fantasy.

War of Y, as presented by Cheewin and Den, is designed to be a meta-drama of four chapters, all examining a specific aspect of the Thai BL industry. The first chapter, led by Billy Patchanon and Seng Wichai, focuses on two ship partnerships competing with each other, to the mental detriment of one of the older ship's celebrities; the second chapter focuses on two HORRIBLE warring managers; the third chapter showcases, in excruciating detail, god help us, a Y idol reality show, replete with singing; and the final chapter depicts the creation of a BL series and the rise of another super celebrity, whose career potentially gets derailed by his relationship with a female acting colleague.

Before I get into the few high points, I just want to say that this bloated structure (four chapters of five episodes each) did not do this drama well. It could have been edited down GREATLY for more succinct messaging. The other major issue I had is that the Thai BL genre -- as a romance genre itself, that demands romantic and coupled endings -- is just not the right genre to meta-critique the industry from which the piece of art comes from, not unless you're the screenwriter of Lovely Writer, who deftly managed some very complicated storylines into true art. There was no deft to War of Y. Couples got together in pandering and condescending ways, because that's how a Thai BL should end, right (?!); HORRENDOUS warring enemies suddenly made up with barely any context except to make money, and so on. I kept saying to friends during my watch that in a Den Panuwat show -- the worse you are as a character, the more likely you are to be redeemed for seemingly no good reason.

[Exhibits B and C in Den Panuwat's screenwriting record of questionable human characteristics? Fucking Only Friends and Playboyy. THE WORSE THOSE CHARACTERS WERE, THE BETTER THEIR OUTCOMES. Yeah, we really wanted those assholes to end well. ANYWAY. (I am committing to never watching a Den Panuwat show again. ANYWAY.)]

But there were a few high points. Actually seeing a Y idol reality show, something that international fans may not be able to appreciate with a lack of subtitles, was at least eye-opening for the inter-related nature of these kinds of shows, with some performers subsequently getting series gigs. (I understand that Santa Pongsapak, of My Own 12%, is an example of this kind of performer, who started out first as a music idol trainee.)

And the acting. Some of the acting was EASILY the best part of War of Y, as it very often happens in questionable Thai dramas: Billy (BILLYYYYYYYY), First Piyangkul, Dome Waruwat (who we most recently saw in Cooking Crush, and who absolutely SLAYED as one of the SLIMIEST, GROSSEST characters EVER, ohmygod), and

SENG MOTHERFUCKING WICHAI

(who will win one of the crowns as one of THE BEST FUCKING ACTORS IN THAI BL at the conclusion of the OGMMTVC project)

were easily the best reasons to watch War of Y. The range of Seng Wichai. It's ironic that he left Idol Factory last year, ending the BillySeng ship, and was then disgracefully treated like utter crap by the media and BL fans for the reveal of his relationship with Freen Sarocha. That, in itself, could make for a heartbreaking drama about the BL industry, but alas. We have War of Y instead. Seng is a motherfucking hero, and is also the KING of cringe, playing a horribly behaved actor who learns to overcome his insecurities to stand up against the advantages taken unto him by greedy managers.

We also had MANY wild and crazy cameos from real BL professionals in the show. @twig-tea and I agree that director New Siwaj's cameo was BAFFLING. He played a BL director (which he actually is) who maybe hated making BLs? (Maybe he actually hates it?) But still does it? And was mostly checked out of making the BL-show-within-the-BL-show, until he was called out about it, and then behaved like a good boy. Like. That cameo, along with a literally-evil NetJames and an even more inexplicable and weird literally-evil MaxNat cameo (wtf, that wasn't filled out AT ALL), were the really weird ones. The sad ones were ones like sweet NuNew Chawarin telling young BL guys that they have to sing (NO THEY DON'T). There was actual!Tee Bundit telling off Seng Wichai's character, that was rad. Director Lit Phadung of SOTUS and Dangerous Romance (😬) was there. Even the original novelist for Thailand's first television BL, Love Sick, was there, playing herself as Kwang Latika, who complained to a producer within War of Y that the show-within-the-show (yeah, I know) was taking her novel out of context. That shit sounds familiar! I could have used more accurate commentary on that.

The last high point that I can muster is that the show began to toe the line of the issue of actors needing to explore their sexualities for art's sake. As fans, we truly do not have much insight into this process, and I think it's for good reason, so as to protect actors (wherever they land on the sexuality spectrum) from very real, emotional, and sensitive processes and workshops that prepare them for taking on queer material. We know that actors like Nanon Korapat from Bad Buddy use Method techniques in their performances, and that can be mentally draining. Do I believe that some actor pairings experiment with dating, and may actually be in relationships? Yes, I must believe it, considering the psychological work these young men have to do to build attraction to each other for art's sake. The CEO of Korea's Strongberry studio confirmed as much earlier this year.

Unfortunately, I think War of Y leveraged these very sensitive realities to blatantly and flippantly indicate that ships can be ASSUMED to either explore sex with each other, and/or to even assume that they SHOULD be in relationships, à la the television BL romance formula that I mentioned above. I think this show could have transcended the romance genre formula, frankly, and I think the show came kinda close to doing that in the last chapter with First Piyangkul -- but not before setting up First's character, Achi, as a cheating monster-machine who was willing to go to great lengths to protect his fame, including outing his trans-female ex-girlfriend and co-star (YEAH, THAT HAPPENED), as well as separating himself from his ship and sexual same-sex partner while still indicating that they were dating. The whole storyline was just -- BLEH.

As I chatted with another fabulous BL elder, @twig-tea, about after I finished War of Y, clearly, Cheewin and Den thought they were intellectual geniuses upon the creation of this show, thinking that a BL itself would be a sufficient mechanism to offer meta commentary about problematic aspects of the BL industry (IT'S NOT). Twig wisely said to me that a writer or directly simply CHOOSING a topic to explore vis à vis a BL -- like a criticism of the industry itself -- is not, in of itself, worthy of laudation. And Cheewin and Den were CLEARLY expecting flowers by the end of this drama. If you've ever lived in smelling distance of southern California, you'll know that entertainment industries love nothing more than to talk about the entertainment industry, and that they think that fictional drama art is the best way to obsess over the vagaries of these industries (IT'S NOT). Instead, Cheewin and Den basically outed themselves as economic shippers and idiot faux-savants who are clearly in the game for fame, and maybe the dudes themselves, which -- BLEH REDUX.

On the OGMMTVC list, Lovely Writer does such a better job at covering the latent homophobia and judgments against actors within and external to the industries that take on BL. War of Y actually teed up a LOT of interesting topics, such as the BL-to-het-drama-and-studio pipeline that I talked about in my past OGMMTVC KinnPorsche pieces -- but these topics in War of Y just instead drowned in misanthropic meditations about fame, sex, and money that seemed far more suited to reaaaaalllly-bad Cinemax than, say, a proto-documentary.

The OGMMTVC syllabus also has YYY, from 2020, as a first entrée to BL-commentary-within-BL (and funnily enough, YYY also stars Lay Talay, who was the main anchor of War of Y, and was actually fantastic in both shows). YYY is a lot more succinct, CONCISE, zany, weird as HELL, incomplete, INSANE, not the greatest show, but HILARIOUS, simply in part because of its different and wonderful writers in Fluke Teerapat (a former BL actor himself) and Tanachot Prapasri. If you're looking for commentary about BL within wild-ass fiction (and if you're willing to watch it with shrooms or a fifth of vodka), watch YYY. (And remember that you're really watching YYY to watch Poppy Ratchapong eat his role of Porpla totally alive. Utter brilliance.)

Otherwise, as a means of complementing this review, I also watched 2020's non-fiction mini-documentary, BL: Broken Fantasy, by Aam Anusorn, another Series Y director who made the documentary, perhaps in part, to atone for past BL shows that he made, like 2Moons2 and Call It What You Want.

BL: Broken Fantasy featured interviews from directors, actors, and actual fans, about the nature of shipping, what the industry demands of actors, what fans themselves demand, and offered even a little bit of insight from two HUGE actors, Bright Vachiwarit and Win Metawin of 2gether and Still 2gether, about the process itself of young men acting in a queer coupleship.

The documentary is perhaps too short for its own good. And it sets up Aam as an unwilling participant within the BL industry, seemingly not knowing about what he was getting into when he first started making BLs (2gether's director, Champ Weerachit, also presents this way, which I found a touch disingenuous, as they were literally filming 2gether in the documentary).

But BL: Broken Fantasy hammered on a couple of important and real points. The economic benefits of shipping are HUGE. The sponsorship deals, the fame, the money -- they literally make young actors very rich and very well attended to. The fans EXPECT shipping performances, so that they themselves can situate themselves as caretakers or "mommies" to their young flock of boba-eyed actors that they worship. And for directors who want to earn money by making filmed art: the budding industry offers them that opportunity in growing spades. ( @lurkingshan will be happy to know that of all people, Aof Noppharnach, confirms to the documentary's audience that BL is a romance genre of love stories. As if there was any doubt, playa!)

At this point in time, in 2024, if I want a meta-critical understanding of the BL industry, and its many impacts on queer populations, fan bases, and Asian and global society, I'll go to Dr. Thomas Baudinette's Boys Love Media in Thailand and choose the academic route. We are SO LUCKY now to actually have tremendous academic discourse on the genre and its impact on media, fandoms, queer society, and global and regional acceptances of queer equity.

As opposed to the roads that academics are paving, War of Y allowed itself to bloat and gloat, on behalf of its creators, about their desires for shipping, for lavishing attention on beautiful young men, without offering us objective insight into the mindsets of these gentlemen who are important artists and creators in many of the shows we love. There needs to be a space for fair and objective criticism about an industry that may, at many times, take advantage of these young men. While there were many industry cameos in the show, the most frequent cameo was Den Panuwat himself. That enough should tell us what this show was ultimately really about.

[Well, as you can tell, I am fucking DONE with War of Y, laughing my azz off, and -- I'm off to greener pastures. I'm taking a cute and quick break from the OGMMTVC to devour Japan's anime version of Cherry Magic for an upcoming comparative (and totally self-indulgent) Big Meta on Thailand's and Japan's versions of that franchise. (And I have also been watching Fully Booked, AMA.) But I've got a long-awaited rewatch of The Eclipse coming up, to explore how GMMTV handled homophobia as a centered topic head-on, and from there, I go back to Idol Factory to watch Thailand's first GL, featuring the lovely FreenBecky, in GAP.

AND THEN: HOLY SHIT! FINALLY! My School President. I can't wait.

Here's the latest of the OGMMTVC list. If you've got any questions or comments about the syllabus, just mosey on over to this link and drop a comment my way!

1) The Love of Siam (2007) (movie) (review here) 2) My Bromance (2014) (movie) (review here) 3) Love Sick and Love Sick 2 (2014 and 2015) (review here) 4) Gay OK Bangkok Season 1 (2016) (a non-BL queer series directed by Jojo Tichakorn and written by Aof Noppharnach) (review here) 5) Make It Right (2016) (review here) 6) SOTUS (2016-2017) (review here) 7) Gay OK Bangkok Season 2 (2017) (a non-BL queer series directed by Jojo Tichakorn and written by Aof Noppharnach) (review here) 8) Make It Right 2 (2017) (review here) 9) Together With Me (2017) (review here) 10) SOTUS S/Our Skyy x SOTUS (2017-2018) (review here) 11) Love By Chance (2018) (review here) 12) Kiss Me Again: PeteKao cuts (2018) (no review) 13) He’s Coming To Me (2019) (review here) 14) Dark Blue Kiss (2019) and Our Skyy x Kiss Me Again (2018) (review here) 15) TharnType (2019-2020) (review here) 16) Senior Secret Love: Puppy Honey (OffGun BL cuts) (2016 and 2017) (no review) 17) Theory of Love (2019) (review here) 18) 3 Will Be Free (2019) (a non-BL and an important harbinger of things to come in 2019 and beyond re: Jojo Tichakorn pushing queer content in non-BLs) (review here) 19) Dew the Movie (2019) (review here) 20) Until We Meet Again (2019-2020) (review here) (and notes on my UWMA rewatch here)

21) 2gether (2020) and Still 2gether (2020) (review here) 22) I Told Sunset About You (2020) (review here) 23) YYY (2020, out of chronological order) (review here) 24) Manner of Death (2020-2021) (review here) 25) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) (review here) 26) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) OGMMTVC Fastest Rewatch Known To Humankind For The Sake Of Rewatching Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS (re-review here) 27) Lovely Writer (2021) (review here) 28) Last Twilight in Phuket (2021) (the mini-special before IPYTM) (review here) 29) I Promised You the Moon (2021) (review here) 30) Not Me (2021-2022) (review here)

31) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) (thesis here) 32) 55:15 Never Too Late (2021-2022) (not a BL, but a GMMTV drama that features a macro BL storyline about shipper culture and the BL industry) (review here) 33) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) and Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS (2023) OGMMTVC Rewatch (Links to the BBS OGMMTVC Meta Series are here: preamble here, part 1, part 2, part 3a, part 3b, and part 4) 34) Secret Crush On You (2022) (review here) 35) KinnPorsche (2022) (tag here)  36) KinnPorsche (2022) OGMMTVC Fastest Rewatch Known To Humankind For the Sake of Re-Analyzing the KP Cultural Zeitgeist (part 1 and part 2) 37) Honorable Mention: War of Y (2022) (for the sake of an attempt to provide meta BL commentary within a BL in the modern BL era), with a complementary watch of Aam Anusorn’s documentary, BL: Broken Fantasy (2020) 38) The Eclipse (2022) (tag here) 39) The Eclipse OGMMTVC Rewatch to Reexamine “Genre BLs” and Internalized/Externalized Homophobia in GMMTV Shows (watching) 40) GAP (2022-2023) (Thailand’s first GL)

41) My School President (2022-2023) and Our Skyy 2 x My School President (2023) 42) Moonlight Chicken (2023) (tag here) 43) Bed Friend (2023) (tag here) 44 La Pluie (2023) (review coming) 45) Be My Favorite (2023) (tag here) (I’m including this for BMF’s sophisticated commentary on Krist’s career past as a BL icon) 46) Wedding Plan (2023) (Recommended as an important trajectory in the course of MAME’s work and influence from TharnType) 47) Only Friends (2023) (tag here) (not technically a BL, but it certainly became one in the end) 48) Last Twilight (2023-24) (tag here) (on the list as Thailand’s first major BL to center disability, successfully or otherwise) 49) Cherry Magic Thailand (2023-24) (tag here) (on the list as the first major Japanese-to-Thai drama adaptation, featuring the comeback of TayNew) 50) Ossan’s Love Returns (2024) (adding for the EarthMix cameo and the eventual Thai remake)

51) Dead Friend Forever (2024) (thoughts here) 52) 23.5 (2024) (GMMTV’s first GL) (thoughts here)]

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Jon Haidt

Published: Mar 9, 2023

In May 2014, Greg Lukianoff invited me to lunch to talk about something he was seeing on college campuses that disturbed him. Greg is the president of FIRE (the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression), and he has worked tirelessly since 2001 to defend the free speech rights of college students. That almost always meant pushing back against administrators who didn’t want students to cause trouble, and who justified their suppression of speech with appeals to the emotional “safety” of students—appeals that the students themselves didn’t buy. But in late 2013, Greg began to encounter new cases in which students were pushing to ban speakers, punish people for ordinary speech, or implement policies that would chill free speech. These students arrived on campus in the fall of 2013 already accepting the idea that books, words, and ideas could hurt them. Why did so many students in 2013 believe this, when there was little sign of such beliefs in 2011?

Greg is prone to depression, and after hospitalization for a serious episode in 2007, Greg learned CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy). In CBT you learn to recognize when your ruminations and automatic thinking patterns exemplify one or more of about a dozen “cognitive distortions,” such as catastrophizing, black-and-white thinking, fortune telling, or emotional reasoning. Thinking in these ways causes depression, as well as being a symptom of depression. Breaking out of these painful distortions is a cure for depression. 

What Greg saw in 2013 were students justifying the suppression of speech and the punishment of dissent using the exact distortions that Greg had learned to free himself from. Students were saying that an unorthodox speaker on campus would cause severe harm to vulnerable students (catastrophizing); they were using their emotions as proof that a text should be removed from a syllabus (emotional reasoning). Greg hypothesized that if colleges supported the use of these cognitive distortions, rather than teaching students skills of critical thinking (which is basically what CBT is), then this could cause students to become depressed. Greg feared that colleges were performing reverse CBT. 

I thought the idea was brilliant because I had just begun to see these new ways of thinking among some students at NYU. I volunteered to help Greg write it up, and in August 2015 our essay appeared in The Atlantic with the title: The Coddling of the American Mind. Greg did not like that title; his original suggestion was “Arguing Towards Misery: How Campuses Teach Cognitive Distortions.” He wanted to put the reverse CBT hypothesis in the title.

After our essay came out, things on campus got much worse. The fall of 2015 marked the beginning of a period of protests and high-profile conflicts on campus that led many or most universities to implement policies that embedded this new way of thinking into campus culture with administrative expansions such as “bias response teams” to investigate reports of “microaggressions.” Surveys began to show that most students and professors felt that they had to self-censor. The phrase “walking on eggshells” became common. Trust in higher ed plummeted, along with the joy of intellectual discovery and sense of goodwill that had marked university life throughout my career. 

Greg and I decided to expand our original essay into a book in which we delved into the many causes of the sudden change in campus culture. Our book focused on three “great untruths” that seemed to be widely believed by the students who were trying to shut down speech and prosecute dissent:

1. What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker 2. Always trust your feelings 3. Life is a battle between good people and evil people. 

Each of these untruths was the exact opposite of a chapter in my first book, The Happiness Hypothesis, which explored ten Great Truths passed down to us from ancient societies east and west. We published our book in 2018 with the title, once again, of The Coddling of the American Mind. Once again, Greg did not like the title. He wanted the book to be called “Disempowered,” to capture the way that students who embrace the three great untruths lose their sense of agency. He wanted to capture reverse CBT. 

The Discovery of the Gender-by-Politics Interaction

In September 2020, Zach Goldberg, who was then a graduate student at Georgia State University, discovered something interesting in a dataset made public by Pew Research. Pew surveyed about 12,000 people in March 2020, during the first month of the Covid shutdowns. The survey included this item: “Has a doctor or other healthcare provider EVER told you that you have a mental health condition?” Goldberg graphed the percentage of respondents who said “yes” to that item as a function of their self-placement on the liberal-conservative 5-point scale and found that white liberals were much more likely to say yes than white moderates and conservatives. (His analyses for non-white groups generally found small or inconsistent relationships with politics.) 

I wrote to Goldberg and asked him to redo it for men and women separately, and for young vs. old separately. He did, and he found that the relationship to politics was much stronger for young (white) women. You can see Goldberg’s graph here, but I find it hard to interpret a three-way interaction using bar charts, so I downloaded the Pew dataset and created line graphs, which make it easier to interpret. 

Here’s the same data, showing three main effects: gender (women higher), age (youngest groups higher), and politics (liberals higher). The graphs also show three two-way interactions (young women higher, liberal women higher, young liberals higher). And there’s an important three-way interaction: it is the young liberal women who are highest. They are so high that a majority of them said yes, they had been told that they have a mental health condition. 

Figure 1.  Data from Pew Research, American Trends Panel Wave 64. The survey was fielded March 19-24, 2020. Graphed by Jon Haidt.

In recent weeks—since the publication of the CDC’s report on the high and rising rates of depression and anxiety among teens—there has been a lot of attention to a different study that shows the gender-by-politics interaction: Gimbrone, Bates, Prins, & Keyes (2022), titled: “The politics of depression: Diverging trends in internalizing symptoms among US adolescents by political beliefs.” Gimbrone et al. examined trends in the Monitoring the Future dataset, which is the only major US survey of adolescents that asks high school students (seniors) to self-identify as liberal or conservative (using a 5-point scale). The survey asks four items about mood/depression. Gimbrone et al. found that prior to 2012 there were no sex differences and only a small difference between liberals and conservatives. But beginning in 2012, the liberal girls began to rise, and they rose the most. The other three groups followed suit, although none rose as much, in absolute terms, as did the liberal girls (who rose .73 points since 2010, on a 5-point scale where the standard deviation is .89). 

Figure 2. Data from Monitoring the Future, graphed by Gimbrone et al. (2022). The scale runs from 1 (minimum) to 5 (maximum).

The authors of the study try to explain the fact that liberals rise first and most in terms of the terrible things that conservatives were doing during Obama’s second term, e.g., 

Liberal adolescents may have therefore experienced alienation within a growing conservative political climate such that their mental health suffered in comparison to that of their conservative peers whose hegemonic views were flourishing.

The progressive New York Times columnist Michelle Goldberg took up the question and wrote a superb essay making the argument that teen mental health is not and must not become a partisan issue. She dismissed Gimbrone et al.’s explanation as having a poor fit with their own data: 

Barack Obama was re-elected in 2012. In 2013, the Supreme Court extended gay marriage rights. It was hard to draw a direct link between that period’s political events and teenage depression, which in 2012 started an increase that has continued, unabated, until today.

After examining the evidence, including the fact that the same trends happened at the same time in Britain, Canada, and Australia, Goldberg concluded that “Technology, not politics, was what changed in all these countries around 2012. That was the year that Facebook bought Instagram and the word “selfie” entered the popular lexicon.”

Journalist Matt Yglesias also took up the puzzle of why liberal girls became more depressed than others, and in a long and self-reflective Substack post, he described what he has learned about depression from his own struggles involving many kinds of treatment. Like Michelle Goldberg, he briefly considered the hypothesis that liberals are depressed because they’re the only ones who see that “we’re living in a late-stage capitalist hellscape during an ongoing deadly pandemic w record wealth inequality, 0 social safety net/job security, as climate change cooks the world,” to quote a tweet from the Washington Post tech columnist Taylor Lorenz. Yglesias agreed with Goldberg and other writers that the Lorenz explanation—reality makes Gen Z depressed—doesn’t fit the data, and, because of his knowledge of depression, he focused on the reverse path: depression makes reality look terrible. As he put it: “Mentally processing ambiguous events with a negative spin is just what depression is.”

Yglesias tells us what he has learned from years of therapy, which clearly involved CBT:

It’s important to reframe your emotional response as something that’s under your control: • Stop saying “so-and-so made me angry by doing X.” • Instead say “so-and-so did X, and I reacted by becoming angry.” And the question you then ask yourself is whether becoming angry made things better? Did it solve the problem? 

Yglesias wrote that “part of helping people get out of their trap is teaching them not to catastrophize.” He then described an essay by progressive journalist Jill Filipovic that argued, in Yglesias’s words, that “progressive institutional leaders have specifically taught young progressives that catastrophizing is a good way to get what they want.”

Yglesias quoted a passage from Filipovic that expressed exactly the concern that Greg had expressed to me back in 2014: 

I am increasingly convinced that there are tremendously negative long-term consequences, especially to young people, coming from this reliance on the language of harm and accusations that things one finds offensive are “deeply problematic” or even violent. Just about everything researchers understand about resilience and mental well-being suggests that people who feel like they are the chief architects of their own life — to mix metaphors, that they captain their own ship, not that they are simply being tossed around by an uncontrollable ocean — are vastly better off than people whose default position is victimization, hurt, and a sense that life simply happens to them and they have no control over their response. 

I have italicized Filipovic’s text about the benefits of feeling like you captain your own ship because it points to a psychological construct with a long history of research and measurement: Locus of control. As first laid out by Julian Rotter in the 1950s, this is a malleable personality trait referring to the fact that some people have an internal locus of control—they feel as if they have the power to choose a course of action and make it happen, while other people have an external locus of control—they have little sense of agency and they believe that strong forces or agents outside of themselves will determine what happens to them. Sixty years of research show that people with an internal locus of control are happier and achieve more. People with an external locus of control are more passive and more likely to become depressed.

How a Phone-Based Childhood Breeds Passivity

There are at least two ways to explain why liberal girls became depressed faster than other groups at the exact time (around 2012) when teens traded in their flip phones for smartphones and the girls joined Instagram en masse. The first and simplest explanation is that liberal girls simply used social media more than any other group. Jean Twenge’s forthcoming book, Generations, is full of amazing graphs and insightful explanations of generational differences. In her chapter on Gen Z, she shows that liberal teen girls are by far the most likely to report that they spend five or more hours a day on social media (31% in recent years, compared to 22% for conservative girls, 18% for liberal boys, and just 13% for conservative boys). Being an ultra-heavy user means that you have less time available for everything else, including time “in real life” with your friends. Twenge shows in another graph that from the 1970s through the early 2000s, liberal girls spent more time with friends than conservative girls. But after 2010 their time with friends drops so fast that by 2016 they are spending less time with friends than are conservative girls. So part of the story may be that social media took over the lives of liberal girls more than any other group, and it is now clear that heavy use of social media damages mental health, especially during early puberty. 

But I think there’s more going on here than the quantity of time on social media. Like Filipovic, Yglesias, Goldberg, and Lukianoff, I think there’s something about the messages liberal girls consume that is more damaging to mental health than those consumed by other groups. 

The Monitoring the Future dataset happens to have within it an 8-item Locus of Control scale. With Twenge’s permission, I reprint one such graph from Generations showing responses to one of the items: “Every time I try to get ahead, something or somebody stops me.” This item is a good proxy for Filipovic’s hypothesis about the disempowering effects of progressive institutions. If you agree with that item, you have a more external locus of control. As you can see in Figure 3, from the 1970s until the mid-2000s, boys were a bit more likely to agree with that item, but then girls rose to match boys, and then both sexes rose continuously throughout the 2010s—the era when teen social life became far more heavily phone-based. 

Figure 3. Percentage of boys and girls (high school seniors) who agree with (or are neutral about) the statement “Every time I try to get ahead, something or somebody stops me.” From Monitoring the Future, graphed by Jean Twenge in her forthcoming book Generations.

When the discussion of the gender-by-politics interaction broke out a few weeks ago, I thought back to Twenge’s graph and wondered what would happen if we broke up the sexes by politics. Would it give us the pattern in the Gimbrone et al. graphs, where the liberal girls rise first and most? Twenge sent me her data file (it’s a tricky one to assemble, across the many years), and Zach Rausch and I started looking for the interaction. We found some exciting hints, and I began writing this post on the assumption that we had a major discovery. For example, Figure 4 shows the item that Twenge analyzed. We see something like the Gimbrone et al. pattern in which it’s the liberal girls who depart from everyone else, in the unhealthy (external) direction, starting in the early 2000s. 

Figure 4. Percentage of liberal and conservative high school senior boys (left panel) and girls (right panel) who agree with the statement “Every time I try to get ahead, something or somebody stops me.” From Monitoring the Future, graphed by Zach Rausch.

It sure looks like the liberal girls are getting more external while the conservative girls are, if anything, trending slightly more internal in the last decade, and the boys are just bouncing around randomly. But that was just for this one item. We also found a similar pattern for a second item, “People like me don’t have much of a chance at a successful life.” (You can see graphs of all 8 items here.) 

We were excited to have found such clear evidence of the interaction, but when we plotted responses to the whole scale, we found only a hint of the predicted interaction, and only in the last few years, as you can see in Figure 5. After trying a few different graphing strategies, and after seeing if there was a good statistical justification for dropping any items, we reached the tentative conclusion that the big story about locus of control is not about liberal girls, it’s about Gen Z as a whole. Everyone—boys and girls, left and right—developed a more external locus of control gradually, beginning in the 1990s. I’ll come back to this finding in future posts as I explore the second strand of the After Babel Substack: the loss of “play-based childhood” which happened in the 1990s when American parents (and British, and Canadian) stopped letting their children out to play and explore, unsupervised. (See Frank Furedi’s important book Paranoid Parenting. I believe that the loss of free play and self-supervised risk-taking blocked the development of a healthy, normal, internal locus of control. That is the reason I teamed up with Lenore Skenazy, Peter Gray, and Daniel Shuchman to found LetGrow.org.) 

Figure 5. Locus of Control has shifted slightly but steadily toward external since the 1990s. Scores are on a 5-point scale from 1 = most internal to 5 = most external. 

We kept looking in the Monitoring the Future dataset and the Gimbrone et al. paper for other items that would allow us to test Filipovic’s hypothesis. We found an ideal second set of variables: The Monitoring the Future dataset has a set of items on “self derogation” which is closely related to disempowerment, as you can see from the four statements that comprise the scale:

I feel I do not have much to be proud of. Sometimes I think I am no good at all. I feel that I can't do anything right. I feel that my life is not very useful.

Gimbrone et al. had graphed the self-derogation scale, as you can see in their appendix (Figure  A.4). But Zach and I re-graphed the original data so that we could show a larger range of years, from 1977 through 2021. As you can see in Figure 6, we find the gender-by-politics interaction. Once again, and as with nearly all of the mental health indicators I examined in a previous post, there’s no sign of trouble before 2010. But right around 2012 the line for liberal girls starts to rise. It rises first, and it rises most, with liberal boys not far behind (as in Gimbrone et al.).

Figure 6. Self-derogation scale, averaging four items from the Monitoring the Future study. Graphed by Zach Rausch. The scale runs from 1 (strongly disagree with each statement) to 5 (strongly agree). 

In other words, we have support for Filipovic’s “captain their own ship” concern, and for Lukianoff’s disempowerment concern: Gen Z has become more external in its locus of control, and Gen Z liberals (of both sexes) have become more self-derogating. They are more likely to agree that they “can’t do anything right.” Furthermore, most of the young people in the progressive institutions that Filipovic mentioned are women, and that has become even more true since 2014 when, according to Gallup data, young women began to move to the left while young men did not move either way. As Gen Z women became more progressive and more involved in political activism in the 2010s, it seems to have changed them psychologically. It wasn’t just that their locus of control shifted toward external—that happened to all subsets of Gen Z.  Rather, young liberals (including young men) seem to have taken into themselves the specific depressive cognitions and distorted ways of thinking that CBT is designed to expunge.

But where did they learn to think this way? And why did it start so suddenly around 2012 or 2013, as Greg observed, and as Figures 2 and 6 confirm?

Tumblr Was the Petri Dish for Disempowering Beliefs

I recently listened to a brilliant podcast series, The Witch Trials of J. K. Rowling, hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper, created within Bari Weiss’s Free Press. Phelps-Roper interviews Rowling about her difficult years developing the Harry Potter stories in the early 1990s, before the internet; her rollout of the books in the late 90s and early 2000s, during the early years of the internet; and her observations about the Harry Potter superfan communities that the internet fostered. These groups had streaks of cruelty and exclusion in them from the beginning, along with a great deal of love, joy, and community. But in the stunning third episode, Phelps-Roper and Rowling take us through the dizzying events of the early 2010s as the social media site Tumblr exploded in popularity (reaching its peak in early 2014), and also in viciousness. Tumblr was different from Facebook and other sites because it was not based on anyone’s social network; it brought together people from anywhere in the world who shared an interest, and often an obsession.

Phelps-Roper interviewed several experts who all pointed to Tumblr as the main petri dish in which nascent ideas of identity, fragility, language, harm, and victimhood evolved and intermixed. Angela Nagle (author of Kill All Normies) described the culture that emerged among young activists on Tumblr, especially around gender identity, in this way:

There was a culture that was encouraged on Tumblr, which was to be able to describe your unique non-normative self… And that’s to some extent a feature of modern society anyway. But it was taken to such an extreme that people began to describe this as the snowflake [referring to the idea that each snowflake is unique], the person who constructs a totally kind of boutique identity for themselves, and then guards that identity in a very, very sensitive way and reacts in an enraged way when anyone does not respect the uniqueness of their identity. 

Nagle described how on the other side of the political spectrum, there was “the most insensitive culture imaginable, which was the culture of 4chan.” The communities involved in gender activism on Tumblr were mostly young progressive women while 4Chan was mostly used by right-leaning young men, so there was an increasingly gendered nature to the online conflict. The two communities supercharged each other with their mutual hatred, as often happens in a culture war. The young identity activists on Tumblr embraced their new notions of identity, fragility, and trauma all the more tightly, increasingly saying that words are a form of violence, while the young men on 4chan moved in the opposite direction: they brandished a rough and rude masculinity in which status was gained by using words more insensitively than the next guy. It was out of this reciprocal dynamic, the experts on the podcast suggest, that today’s cancel culture was born in the early 2010s. Then, in 2013, it escaped from Tumblr into the much larger Twitterverse. Once on Twitter, it went national and even global (at least within the English-speaking countries), producing the mess we all live with today.

I don’t want to tell that entire story here; please listen to the Witch Trials podcast for yourself. It is among the most enlightening things I’ve read or heard in all my years studying the American culture war (along with Jon Ronson’s podcast Things Fell Apart). I just want to note that this story fits perfectly with both the timing and the psychology of Greg’s reverse CBT hypothesis. 

Implications and Policy Changes

In conclusion, I believe that Greg Lukianoff was exactly right in the diagnosis he shared with me in 2014. Many young people had suddenly—around 2013—embraced three great untruths:

They came to believe that they were fragile and would be harmed by books, speakers, and words, which they learned were forms of violence (Great Untruth #1). 

They came to believe that their emotions—especially their anxieties—were reliable guides to reality (Great Untruth #2).

They came to see society as comprised of victims and oppressors—good people and bad people (Great Untruth #3).

Liberals embraced these beliefs more than conservatives. Young liberal women adopted them more than any other group due to their heavier use of social media and their participation in online communities that developed new disempowering ideas. These cognitive distortions then caused them to become more anxious and depressed than other groups. Just as Greg had feared, many universities and progressive institutions embraced these three untruths and implemented programs that performed reverse CBT on young people, in violation of their duty to care for them and educate them. 

I welcome challenges to this conclusion from scholars, journalists, and subscribers, and I will address such challenges in future posts. I must also repeat that I don’t blame everything on smartphones and social media; the other strand of my story is the loss of play-based childhood, with its free play and self-governed risk-taking. But if this conclusion stands (along with my conclusions in previous posts), then I think there are two big policy changes that should be implemented as soon as possible: 

1) Universities and other schools should stop performing reverse CBT on their students

As Greg and I showed in The Coddling of the American Mind, most of the programs put in place after the campus protests of 2015 are based on one or more of the three Great Untruths, and these programs have been imported into many K-12 schools. From mandatory diversity training to bias response teams and trigger warnings, there is little evidence that these programs do what they say they do, and there are some findings that they backfire. In any case, there are reasons, as I have shown, to worry that they teach children and adolescents to embrace harmful, depressogenic cognitive distortions.

One initiative that has become popular in the last few years is particularly suspect: efforts to tell college students to avoid common English words and phrases that are said to be “harmful.” Brandeis University took the lead in 2021 with its “oppressive language list.” Brandeis urged its students to stop saying that they would “take a stab at” something because it was unnecessarily violent. For the same reason, they urged that nobody ask for a “trigger warning” because, well, guns. Students should ask for “content warnings” instead, to keep themselves safe from violent words like “stab.” Many universities have followed suit, including Colorado State University, The University of British Columbia, The University of Washington, and Stanford, which eventually withdrew its “harmful language list” because of the adverse publicity. Stanford had urged students to avoid words like “American,” “Immigrant,” and “submit,” as in “submit your homework.” Why? because the word “submit” can “imply allowing others to have power over you.” The irony here is that it may be these very programs that are causing liberal students to feel disempowered, as if they are floating in a sea of harmful words and people when, in reality, they are living in some of the most welcoming and safe environments ever created.

2) The US Congress should raise the age of “internet adulthood” from 13 to 16 or 18

What do you think should be the minimum age at which children can sign a legally binding contract to give away their data and their rights,  and expose themselves to harmful content, without the consent or knowledge of their parents? I asked that question as a Twitter poll, and you can see the results here:

Image: See my original tweet.

Of course, this poll of my own Twitter followers is far from a valid survey, and I phrased my question in a leading way, but my phrasing was an accurate statement of today’s status quo. I think that most people now understand that the age of 13, which was set back in 1998 when we didn’t know what the internet would become, is just too low, and it is not even enforced. When my kids started 6th grade in NYC public schools, they each told me that “everyone” was on Instagram.

We are now 11 years into the largest epidemic of adolescent mental illness ever recorded. I know so many families that have been thrown into fear and turmoil by a child’s suicide attempt. You probably do too, given that the recent CDC report tells us that one in ten adolescents now say they have made an attempt to kill themselves. It is hitting all political and demographic groups. The evidence is abundant that social media is a major cause of the epidemic, and perhaps the major cause. It's time we started treating social media and other apps designed for “engagement” (i.e., addiction) like alcohol, tobacco, and gambling, or, because they can harm society as well as their users, perhaps like automobiles and firearms. Adults should have wide latitude to make their own choices, but legislators and governors who care about mental health, women’s health, or children’s health need to step up.

It’s not enough to find more money for mental health services, although that is sorely needed. In addition, we must shut down the conveyer belt so that today’s toddlers will not suffer the same fate in twelve years. Congress should set a reasonable minimum age for minors to sign contracts and open accounts without explicit parental consent, and the age needs to be after teens have progressed most of the way through puberty. (The harm caused by social media seems to be greatest during puberty.) If Congress won’t do it then state legislatures should act. There are many ways to rapidly verify people’s ages online, and I’ll discuss age verification processes in a future post. 

In conclusion: All of Gen Z got more anxious and depressed after 2012. But Lukianoff’s reverse CBT hypothesis is the best explanation I have found for Why the mental health of liberal girls sank first and fastest.

[13ghostlytitties]

MHA has ended: how do I feel?

Well, if you wanted my exact reaction, this was what I sent my friends after reading the summary:

So, It’s been years since I’ve actually read the series. Still, I’ve kept up with what’s happened in broad strokes, and I’d like to read it all in one go now that I know it’s finished and what’s happened (can’t be disappointed if you don’t have your hopes up, I guess). I know enough and have read the reactions of others enough to see that this ended, and the whole final war saga and what’s happened with it, isn’t especially popular with fans beyond those who just read for cool fights and don’t delve any deeper. My thoughts?

Well, it ended how I expected. More accurately, it didn’t create any new problems because, to me, everything people seem to be picking at is just the endpoints of problems that have existed in this series for a long time.

Let’s go blow-for-blow here. There’s some aspects like the stuff with the LoV that I don’t feel as confident speaking about because I don’t know as much, so ill be sticking with what I’m pretty confident in saying. We’ll start with:

1: Midoriya lost his Quirk, became a teacher instead of a hero

I would like to start this with a touch of positivity and say that, if he really isn’t gonna be a hero, I think hero teacher is very fitting for Midoriya. He’s got the personality for it, he has the experience for it, and it’s kind of a nice feeling that he’s there to help the ones coming after him.

So, personally, I’ve never been that into the way OFA works. I love Quirks that stick to the theme and idea that these are biologically mutations, especially when they play on classic superpowers (Shiozaki, Iida, Tsuburaba, Shoji, Ashido, Asui, etc.). Whether or not you think Midoriya should still have his power or not, the fact that he lost it and thus didn’t become a pro hero is not a new problem. That’s what happened to Ragdoll, to Hawks, to Togata (temporarily), to Knuckleduster in Vigilantes. No Quirk means no superhero. We learned that in the first chapter. Sure, it ended with All Might saying to Quirkless Midoriya “you can be a hero,” but you then you turn the page to chapter 2 and we see what he meant - “you can be a hero because I’m giving you a Quirk.” Midoriya not being a hero after losing his Quirk shouldn’t that shocking as the idea that you can be a Quirkless hero has never been on the table. “But wait,” you say, “Midoriya got a special power suit at the end and got to be a hero again with everyone else. All Might did something similar against AFO, so doesn’t that count as being a hero with no Quirk?” Well, sure, but it took 8 years and apparently a shit-ton of money to make it happen. They’re the exception to the rule. And how did they become the exceptions? Connections and accolades from when they did have Quirks. It’s the same reason why Midoriya couldn’t have his full-circle “you can be a hero” moment with an actual Quirkless kid like he was: it’d be a lie, to the kid and the audience. Speaking of…

2: Plate Boy can be a hero too!

Like I said, they couldn’t have this be a Quirkless kid because that’d go against everything that we’ve been shown up until now. Because of that, this moment is severely handicapped, to the point where I wonder if having the lie would’ve been the lesser of two evils compared to wasting a lot of time of this ending on someone who’s anxious about a starting point that is, in essence, better off than Midoriya’s starting point. If you can’t actually complete the full circle, you can’t really have that full circle moment, and the fact that this story could not have that should make the disparity of where it started vs. where it went all the more clear

3: the class losing touch, drifting apart

This may be just me, but I never really thought of Class 1-A as that much of a unit. So many of them are kept to the sidelines, so many arcs just focus on Midoriya and a couple others, usually just Bakugo and Todoroki (another group I never bought as a real cohesive group), to the point where it felt rare to have them feel like a team. Can you really say, just reading the manga, that they’re in the same vein as the Straw Hat Pirates, the Stardust Crusaders, the Black Bulls, etc. It was only rare times that they all came together in a big way, and it usually kept things to little cliques. Now, I’m not saying that the solution would have been evenly juggling 20 characters and making them all having unique connections with each other. It’s not feasible for a professional, serialized manga that has to worry about pacing, audience interest, worldbuilding, characters outside of their class, etc. (Honestly, I think the best way would have been 4 classes of 10 students instead of 2 of 20, but that’s neither here nor there.). All I can really say is, can you really be so heartbroken about 20 people who only rarely were seen interacting and working all together mostly drifting apart?

4: the structure of the Hero Association and stuff like the rankings are still in place

Again, I must say, this is an issue that’s been deeply rooted in the series. To begin, a lot of time throughout the series has indeed been about how messed up hero society has become. Even in the first chapter, we get a lot of time to take in how commercialized it’s become, how many heroes see it as just a job or even as a fame contest for riches and glory. Mt. Lady in chapter 1 was the example given of someone out for fame and money, so much so that she’s placed herself in an ill-suited environment for her power (a crowded city where she can’t maneuver properly without causing serious damage) just because it’s where more people will notice her and where there’s more villains to fight. The function of Bakugo in Chapter 1, remember, was that he was an egotistical glory hound looking to ride his innate power to glory, fame, and riches.

And further in, when we first learn about Endeavor’s deal, we’re being introduced to him as the logical endpoint of this system. He’s obsessed to the point of extreme measures, including buying a woman to marry with a strong Quirk, forcing her to have enough kids that he’ll get a suitable heir, and harshly training that heir into someone who can take his place in the societal totem pole that is the ranking of heroes. So, with all that said, why am I saying that it’s not a surprise this stuff is still around in the epilogue? Well, it’s because all of this bad stuff gets a facelift as time goes on. Bakugo became popular, so his image was cleaned up for the reader, the whole “get rich” angle was dropped, and other characters started loving and respecting him without the need for his shitty attitude to change. Endeavor was given a long, screen time-hogging “redemption arc” where the people he terrible abused forgave him. Even Mt. Lady became more noble as time went on. MHA has a serious issue with retconning its traits and brushing aside heavy topics for the sake of easy solutions and appealing to who and what is popular with fans. And, sure, give the fans what they want, but don’t do it at the cost of your story. Anyway, this is become a ramble, so I’ll get back on track. Hero rankings and the institutions of pro heroes is another part of the story that gets this sort of easy solution. It’s still around, but it’s run by “the good guys” now (It’s not like power corrupts, right? I’m sure the guy who idolizes Endeavor wouldn’t have an issues with the idea that people in power can use that power for bad things). They’ve learned, really, for true, so everything’s gonna be fine now, pinky-swears it. It really is just like Naruto’s ending, in that sense. The structures of power that have been criticized from the start are still around in the end, but because certain issues (mostly unrelated to that institution’s issues) have been dealt with, and because “the good guys” are now in charge, we’re just supposed to expect things are fine now and will be for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve really got to see. I know there are more issues people are talking about, but those are the ones I have something to say about. So, what’s the verdict? Is it a good ending? A bad ending?

It’s an ending, that’s enough.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Behind the Seams: Part IV

{ Behind the Seams: Part III | Part III: Edgestitch | Series Masterlist }

Welcome to the second instalment of Behind the Seams! For those new to the series, this is a behind-the-scenes deep dive that I post in between chapters for those who are interested in taking a peek at my writing process (mainly because I update so slowly lol). There are spoilers for Edgestitch below the cut, so if you're not caught up, I suggest you come back when you are!

Current status: 3.6k unfinished rough draft

Initial thoughts: The last chapter laid down a few anchor points that I hope will carry the story forward for the next 2 to 3 parts. I still don't have an overarching plan for this series, and there is no 'plot' to speak of other than the unfolding of the relationship between Joel and Pin, and I'm good with that!

After the excitement of the last chapter, it took me a while to get back into the Seams mindset. While we resolved a tiny bit of the sexual tension last chapter, there is still a lot to unpack between these two. The camera is zooming in for this chapter, where we throw Joel and Pin together again, but in a less accident-prone manner as they take things into their own hands rather than leave it up to chance.

The challenge: One word - intimacy. On both their parts.

As Pin alluded to in the last chapter, it's been a long time anyone has even kissed her, let alone anything else. There will be some action in this chapter - I haven't decided to which degree yet - but I want to do it in a way that is sensitive to her history (even though I will leave it vague).

As for Joel, it's also one word - Tess. My Google doc right now cuts off at the beginning of the intimate scene, because I haven't figured out what he's thinking just yet in relation to her. As much as he's falling for Pin, I imagine he might be confused, guilty, probably in denial about his grief. I don't want Seams to get too heavy, and I might not be exploring these themes in Part IV just yet, but these are themes that I'm looking to explore in some way in the series.

Ellie: I was so bowled over by everyone's reaction to Ellie in the last chapter! That really gave me such a confidence boost, and I'm so happy to say that our favourite gremlin is making more of a cameo this chapter. She's great comedic relief while bringing out the dad side of Joel that I just love dipping into.

Joel: Many of you have brought up you're enjoying Joel's thoughts about Jackson and Sarah, and you don't understand how much it means to me. Getting into Joel's head has been one of my favourite things about this series, especially with him trying to figure out how to exist in this place after 20 years of just surviving. Ellie allowing himself to get back in touch with his dad side is another angle that I love delving into. The instincts have never left him, and I'm having so much fun bringing out that side of him.

Something fun: As I teased right here, the white undervest will make a return, and yes, Joel will be sweaty AF in it - I wonder why 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thank you for reading if you've made it this far! As with the last chapter, it helps so much putting my thought process into words, to make space in my head so that I can push forward with the writing. Thank you for indulging me, I hope you enjoyed this one ❤️ I'm always open to chatting, so don't be shy!

[crash-and-cure]

If I Were You Part 2 (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: Reader tries to navigate the immeadiate aftermath after that fateful night with Elvis, to varying success. WIth his return to performing on the horizon reader questions is if there is a way of forward that causes the least amount of damage for both parties. Elvis sees only one path forward.

Note: This is based on @venus-haze One shot If I Were You. Please go read that before this because it’s absolutely incredible. And yes before anyone asks I had her full permission to continue the story and she has been on board the whole time. I swear on my life this was originally a one-shot to continue on and let it be known what I saw for reader and Elvis’ future. Then about 5k into this story and realizing there were so many scenes I wanted to add within the first week alone for these two, I just went all in and decided to restrain this chapter to a week. There will be at least one more chapter following this. Reader is cis female, and aside from that no other descriptors are used. Full disclosure I do use this song, which, while never performed by him, has all the makings of one, and it fit to well in the scene it’s in. I do have a Bachelor’s in Psychology, but I am not a therapist, so nothing here should be treated as genuine mental health advice. That being said there is alot more focus on reader this time around. Please read the warnings before deciding to read.

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: Yandere fic so there are themes of obsessive , manipulative, and delusional behavior as well as some heavy allusions to blackmail, emotional and otherwise, here too. There is an informal therapy session depicted here as well in which topics such as performance anxiety, sex, exploitation, and substance abuse are discussed. Depictions of drinking that may be seen as delving into alcohol abuse territory, as well as some other erratic behavior on readers part. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes oral (f. recieving), pentrative sex (m/f), spanking, some daddy kink, and other dom/sub undertones sprinkled throughout. And of course Elvis’ mommy issues and readers daddy issues (truly aa match made in hell). Finally depictions of a toxic relationship that include power imbalances, manipulation, and uses of coercion. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

Part 1  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

My Masterlist

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You kept that bottle of wine, you can’t fully explain why though. Worse yet you kept it in the bottom drawer of your desk, and every time you opened that drawer these past few months you were always secretly hoping that it wouldn’t be there and would always feel the disappointment when it continued to be there out of your sight. How poetic you thought idly as Elvis forced open that locked drawer after curiosity over the glass clinking sound had gotten the better of him.

Recognizing the bottle he let out a dark chuckle. “Well I’ll be damned. Thought you didn’t take gifts from us patients, Doc?” he said, very much amused as he used his teeth to take the cork out. “Don’t worry though mama,” he paused taking a swig, “I forgive ya’. Least I could do after all ya’ gave tonight.” 

Shaking both in shock and humiliation, you grabbed the bottle and after nursing it for a beat too long, you proceeded to ride him to oblivion as he sat in your own desk chair in some twisted attempt to regain control of the situation. Though the closer you got to your peak, it became clear that this was all in vain. The way he sat there, lounging back, one hand behind his head and the other leaving finger-sized bruises on your rear, guiding you as you desperately chased your release, he was the very image of a King on his throne. It was on that thought that you proceeded to shatter around him once again that night, drifting as he whispered in your ear what a good girl you were. 

The rest of the night proceeded as a blur as the next conscious thought you had would be wondering how you were going to get to work the next day as he drove you home in his own car. You don’t quite remember giving him directions, but for the sake of your sanity you just assumed you did. And in some perverted form of chivalry, he even walked you to your front door and gave you a tender, almost sweet, kiss as though he didn’t have you bent over your own desk not even an hour ago, before departing into the night. 

You’re in a fugue state as you work toward your nightly routine. You don’t taste your dinner, you don’t hear the music from your neighbor’s radio, and you especially don’t feel his cum flaking on the skin beneath your blouse. Nope. Definitely not. You’re too ashamed to even look at yourself going so far as to shower with your lights off. 

As you settle into bed that night, your sleep is fitful as you try your best to decide what to do about this night. In the end, with all the evidence of your tryst washed away, you resolve to ignore these feelings at the very least until you have to see him again. 

What you can’t ignore the next morning is your car, that had no business being there, in its usual spot, along with your keys in the ignition. Not really trying to think too hard on the implications you would rush to work hoping to clean up before your first client of the day.

To your surprise everything in your office is already in order: No furniture askew, no suspicious stains on the desk or chairs, not even the panties that you swore didn’t come home with you anywhere in sight. The only proof that last night even happened at all was the broken desk drawer and the slight tenderness on your ass.

The days following that session were hazy at best to you as, even during work, your mind was occupied by him. You formulated plans as to how best to address what happened and why it must never happen again. Elvis has always had a reputation as a bit of a cad, so perhaps you can both treat this as a one time thing. Something that he had to get out of his system in order to successfully further his treatment. Even in session he confessed that he had trouble with maintaining monogamy to almost all of his previous partners - though, you thought, he did immediately follow that up with the justification that he was looking for the “right” girl. 

You pushed that notion away, he will understand - he has to understand - that it would be better to return to the previous professional relationship. So come Thursday morning, you take steps to effectively unsex yourself; no makeup, loose fitting pants and blazer, hair in a less than flattering style, the whole nine yards. All of this done in an effort to make yourself a less viable option for a sexual partner .

As you leave your apartment you catch a glimpse of your ill-fitting attire and you can’t help but be reminded how as a child you would wear your fathers suits and declare you were going to be a Doctor like him. As you would swim in his oversized coat, you remember feeling lucky to receive a dismissive glance your way and monotone orders to return the clothes back where you found them. You rush out to your car before you can dwell on that train of thought.

If your other patients noticed your sudden change in style that day, no one mentioned it. You had previously taken pride in the level of professionalism you were able to maintain, but in the grand scheme of things, looking frumpy for one day of work could hardly be deemed the worst thing you have done. 

As 4 PM rolled around you were still in the process of convincing yourself that you were ready to confront this head on by not confronting it and acting as though nothing ever happened. You can do this- you have to do this- you told yourself. 

4:15 PM, you were ready for the knock on the door that would not come that night. 

4:30 PM, you were still waiting in a rigid state with your pen and notebook clenched in your hands, full attention at the wooden door, like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. You shudder at the comparison. 

4:45 PM, you were justifying his tardiness with his upcoming concert, and even with your barebones knowledge of performing, you realize that these types of things are planned weeks, even months in advance. And so you wait.

5 PM and you’re already mentally packing up to go back to your apartment. You know that all of your things are sitting at your desk but you wanted to spend as little time looking at it as possible. These past few days, you had the irrational fear that even so much as looking at where your indiscretion happened would tip off everybody. You disregard that reflexive response that makes you clench your thighs together when you look in its direction. 

5:15 PM you can no longer ignore the stiffness in your back but you're doing your best to disregard the feeling of rejection that has settled in the pit of your stomach. Because this seems to be the place where you make your worst decisions, you decide to pull out that damned bottle of wine. You see the teeth marks on the cork, and you push down the part of you that blushes at the thought of putting your mouth where his was. 

It is in that moment with the stopper wrenched free and you thinking about a man you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about, does the shrill tone of your office phone ring. It’s embarrassing really how quickly your hand shoots to answer it, moreso when you answer with a mouthful of cork. 

“Hww-” you quickly spit it out. “Hello this is Dr. Y/L/N.”

It is little comfort when you recognize the voice. 

“Baby I’m so sorry that I missed tonight, but I coulda swore I told one a my boys to let ya’ know I wouldn’t make it.” he said apologetically. “We got rehearsal’s all this week for Saturday and my minds been all over the damn place.”

Baby, you thought as you took a quick gulp of wine. Early on, he had slipped and called you tha, maybe a month or two into his treatment. You, as gently as you could, informed him how you would appreciate it if he wouldn’t refer to you as such. He reassured you that he meant nothing by it as he apparently calls everyone that from time to time. You accepted that answer and didn’t say anything the few times he would say it later on. 

Looking at the bottle in your hand, you had spent the last few days blaming it for being your first misstep in your career, but retrospect is funny like that and you’re now realizing it was one in a series of many over the last year. With him continually elbowing his way back into your life, you doubt it will be your last. 

“That’s alright Mr. Presley, just please don’t let this happen again in the future.” is your response, wanting to end this conversation as quickly as possible. “I’ll see you for your next session on Monday.” 

“Speakin’ a that. I was hoping we could reschedule today for Saturday,” he said before you could lift the receiver from your ear. 

“Mr Presley, I don’t work on Saturday’s,” you half-heartedly protested. 

“Then you’re free,” he quickly countered. “Doc, it’s just that… I’mma need some help gettin’ my head straight before the show, cause it’s been over a year since I done this, and even longer since I done a show sober.”

You immediately clock what he’s trying to do, and for all the ill-advised actions you’ve taken in the last week, you didn’t get your license out of a cracker jack box. “Elvis, that is in no way appropri-”

“Well it’s the show,” he quickly cuts you off. There is a dark edge to his tone as he continues. “And what happened on Monday. I think I really need to talk to someone ‘bout it.”

It doesn’t have to be you, goes unsaid.

He’s got you there and you know it, and currently you’re in no state of mind to try to find a way around this. So rather than doing anything semi-responsible and enforcing the boundary you have set, you down most of what’s left of the bottle and agree. 

“Darlin’ that’s perfect. If there’s one thing I can promise, it's a helluva show” You can almost feel the self-satisfied grin over the phone. “I also been thinkin’ ‘bout what you said with not lettin’ people know that you’re my therapist, and you’re right.”

The neck of the bottle is clenched so tightly in your fist, you’re concerned it may shatter at this point. That earlier feeling of rejection being quickly replaced with dread.

“So I think I best I send you a lil’ somethin’ to wear for the show, I want them knowin’ you’re my girl, not my shrink, and you don’t exactly dress the part Doll.” he says this with such a cool authority that leaves no room for argument.

You stared off into space with this offer. You’re idly reminded of months ago when you had him practice an exercise in control. He did, you observed, have an excessive need for control in almost every aspect of his life, but this mindset also held the detrimental effect that everything that went wrong was also his fault due to the control he felt. So you came up with this exercise so you could both figure out where it is reasonable to be in control, and in which places he could relinquish it a bit. One aspect he mentioned that he often controlled was the way his girlfriends dressed, which you will admit made you do a double take. The only thing you commented on that detail was that so long as both parties were consenting he was truly not in control of the entire situation. 

Doll indeed, you think bitterly. Did he take it as a challenge? Whatever the case may be, one thing becomes evident. You have no doubt what his intentions are anymore, no overwhelming emotions clouding his judgment, nor any post-orgasmic high having him say things he doesn’t mean. 

As you look at the near empty bottle of wine while you sit in the room where your career has lived and will inevitably die, you can hardly say the same thing about yourself.

Mark had insisted you keep it that night months ago, and after realizing that there was no way of returning it to Elvis without bringing up the incident again, you kept it in your office for the sole reason that it felt wrong to keep it in your apartment. Too Intimate, you had thought. You begin to wonder how your life would have been had you told Mark why you wished to refuse the wine. Maybe you would have been strong enough to put your foot down and keep this relationship professional… or maybe he would have taken the same approach you took, and let it slide under the guise of Elvis not knowing any better at the time. Elvis seemed to have that effect on people, of wanting to justify his actions in spite of it everything.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the way he sounded when exhausted, or just maybe it was looking into Pandora's proverbial drawer and finally finding those lost panties with the evidence of your attraction to him stained into the fabric. Whatever it was you found yourself finishing off the bottle and agreeing to his requests - demands really-  and drunkenly trying your best to rationalize to yourself why you shouldn’t burn your license to ash at this very moment. 

The next day rolls around and you return to your normal wardrobe. Though that morning you can’t help but take an extra long look at it as though the promised new addition will change it fundamentally. You chalk that thought up to you still being hungover. As the day continues, you try your best to be more attentive to your patients that day, because even if you failed to do so once, these people deserve a space free from your own personal issues.

You’re not surprised to be met with a package at your doorstep, though the colored box and large bow it arrives in are a bit much for what you assumed to be a single dress. What you’re met with inside is in fact a full outfit complete with even the undergarments you assume you’re expected to wear. The style itself so far from your typical business professional taste, it circles into the territory of a disguise. You even have to admit that there is an air of brilliance to it, since you doubt even you would be able to recognize yourself in this outfit.

Though in that regard, you already have a lot of trouble doing so lately.

Your tentative plan as of right now is to attend the concert and take part in this impromptu therapy session, and you will discuss with him what happened and explain why it is in fact critical to his mental well-being that this affair goes no further. You begrudgingly admit that come Monday, you will have to start from square one with him, but this is the only path forward you can see anymore.

That Saturday morning is devoted to running in and out of grocery stores, trying to gather as many tabloids featuring Elvis as possible, if you’re going to -temporarily- play the part he wants you to play, you will have to look like it. The rest of the day is devoted to primping and preening to get said right look. This brings back memories from undergrad, you and a friend preparing for a double date and Priscilla, along with various other celebrity faces, taped to the mirror for inspiration. Specifically you remember after being able to achieve her dramatic cat eye, your friend joking that if this college thing didn’t work out for you, you could put in an application for being Elvis’ next girl. You laughed at how preposterous that idea was at the time.

Your thoughts of the past are quickly interrupted by rapid knocking at your front door, and you quickly put the finishing touches on your makeup and throw on the ensemble. At the door you’re met with a familiar blonde whose apparent agitation swiftly surpasses whatever momentary discomfort he clearly feels at encountering you once again. Though in that moment you’re at least grateful Elvis had the good sense to not involve anyone else in this matter (that and the fact he didn’t send a limo).

Getting into the car you’re praying for a long and silent trip to the show. Jerry not reading the room says to you “Sorry for rushing you out the door back there, um…” he says. “It’s just been a bit of a crazy week, and the Boss is just wigging out about every single detail.”

“I understand” you attempt to placate, wishing for this exchange to end as soon as possible. “You have a job to do.”

“By the looks of it, so do you,” he says in an attempt to joke, though he quickly cuts himself off after seeing you tense up. He quickly apologizes and as you turn to look out the window, you hear what sounds like a flask being opened and Jerry downing a good portion of it. 

You resist the urge to demand a shot of whatever he’s drinking because, as poorly timed as that joke was, you are on the clock. And for as unprofessional as you have been lately, you don’t think you’ve quite gotten to the level of drinking right before a session. Because that’s what this is: an emergency/supplemental session that will precede a momentous occasion for your patient, and out of respect for his privacy, you are in disguise so that no one will know he’s even seeing a therapist. You’re hoping the more you tell yourself that the less ridiculous it will sound.

And due to the fact you're on the job you reason, it may be best to get an idea of his state before going in. “How has he been today? I’m sure the stress of the event is getting to him,” you ask.

“Yeah, uhh… he’s been in a bit of a mood all day,” he says carefully.

“Meaning?” 

“He’s basically been sayin’ that he wouldn’t perform until he saw you,” he says, looking anywhere but at you.

And there it is, you think. You give a simple nod in acknowledgement to Jerry, as he is all too happy to let this conversation peter out. You now recognize what Elvis is attempting and using Jerry as a proxy for. Despite all your training that tells you that you’re not responsible for any actions your patients take, you feel yourself start to shoulder the burden of getting him to perform tonight. Not only that but it seems you also bear the responsibility of putting him in the right headspace to perform well tonight. 

The rest of the ride to the show itself is quiet, which you’re grateful for, as it gives you time to steel yourself. Jerry as well seems to ease into a more relaxed demeanor the way one would when doing something that has become routine. It seems he’s no stranger to ferrying women to the King of Rock and Roll. 

Regardless of the slight pang of sorrow you feel momentarily at that observation, you try to see the upside to it. That this… thing with Elvis, your patient you have to remind yourself, will be short-lived. 

Arriving at the venue, you are immediately led backstage, and you’re not sure you can write off the feeling that everyone was watching you to paranoia on your part. Whatever it was, you surmised, there were more than a few people beyond Elvis expecting your arrival. As you were ushered to his dressing room, you felt equal parts dread and anticipation as to what would be on the other side.

What you weren’t expecting was your office. Though that may be a stretch, you can’t seem to find the logic in a dressing room having two chairs facing each other with a small table between them complete with a box of tissues right on top. The entire arrangement takes up an inordinate amount of space in an already cramped room, and you can’t help but conclude that it is intentional. 

You find the man of the hour in an open robe (sans shirt, though thankfully with pants on) sitting cross legged on the sofa in what you recognize to be a meditative position. You wouldn’t say he is quite disheveled, but every time you’ve seen him, he’s looked nothing less than immaculate. So finding him in this state with his hair undone and no ostentatious clothing is slightly jarring. Upon hearing the door open he cracks open one eye, and seeing you his face breaks into that handsome grin you’ve become far too familiar with. “Y/N, baby you’re here.” he says feigning surprise.

Not even acknowledging what he just said, you make your way into the room and Jerry, clearly just as disturbed by the setup, closes the door behind you. You glance at the clock on the wall showing that you had a little over 2 hours until the concert was set to start, just enough time for a full session and then some for him to get ready for the show. There is no way this was not meticulously planned, you conclude. 

You sit down placing your bag on the floor, as he takes his time to stretch out for a bit before he strolls his way to sit astride the chair across from you. There with an amused look on his face, he says nothing apparently wanting you to start. 

Considering there is no protocol as to how to conduct a session in this highly specific situation, and not wanting to immediately open with the elephant in the room, you decide to begin with just idle chit chat. “So… um, I didn't know you practiced meditation.”

“Yeah, it was somethin’ I picked up in San Diego,” he says off-handedly.

“I’m glad that it works for you,” you say as neutrally as possible. 

“Oh, it don’t,'' he clarifies. “It works in gettin’ everyone to leave me the fuck alone for awhile. But not in the other ways it’s supposed to.”

You nod your head in acknowledgement as he continues. “I got into yoga when I was down there too.”

“Do you find that works better for you?”

“Yeah,” he verifies. “When I feel somethin’ real bad, I gotta move. It don’t matter how.” This makes sense as he's a very physical person. You are aware of his love for Karate, and you briefly consider recommending he pick up Tai Chi as a happy medium between meditation and martial arts to help him in achieving mindfulness. Your thoughts are interrupted as he continues. “Too bad I ain’t been able to practice in a while.”

“And why is that?” you softly probe.

“I been needin” a partner,” he said with a sly grin, very much an offer.

There’s your opening, you think to yourself. This is the moment you can make a bid to reinforce some level of boundaries between the two of you. Where you can tell him that Monday was a mistake and should never happen again. That this infatuation with you is in fact detrimental to his mental well-being and will destroy your career. And most importantly that there is no future between the two of you.

“Elvis, please” you say, exhaling in frustration. “About what happened on Monday… I think it would be best if we-”

“Well,” he chimes in, “I think it best we save that talk for another time,” his severe delivery leaving no room for argument. Fear grips your throat as he continues in a notably softer tone, “Everything out there is ready for me to play, but up here,” he says, putting two fingers to his temple. “I don’t know ‘bout. Darlin’ I need your help right now, because I can’t do this without you”

Almost everything within you says to push forward no matter what, and tell him right here and now. The one thing that stops you is knowing for a fact he will be devastated with what you have to say. And then what? You leave and he’s unable to perform, leaving hundreds devastated. And come Monday will he even show up, or will he make the call and have you immediately reported for your part in this whole ordeal. Not to mention the long-term variables of if he will even want to continue therapy should you fail to get him ready tonight.

You sigh in defeat, as it appears you have no choice but to concede on this matter and focus on the immediate task at hand. “So you mentioned over the phone that your head’s been all over the place this week. Tell me, is this how you normally feel in the days leading up to a performance?” 

He looks pleased with your question and answers “Not in the last few years no. I mean, first time in Vegas it was a little like this, but after a while that all became routine.”

He leans his chair back and reaches behind him to the vanity table to reach for a glass of water. This angle puts his full chest on display and you can’t help but rake your eyes over the hair there and follow the trail of it down to his-

Focus, you think to yourself.

He offers you a glass, and in spite of how dry your mouth feels at the moment, you are trying to no longer accept anything from him at this point regardless of how small, so you refuse. “Tell ya’ what though,” he says, taking a sip. “I ain’t feel this nervous since my early days of performin’ and I would shake somethin’ fierce on stage,” he laughs a little at this statement. “That’s actually parta where all my dancin’ came from.” 

“I see.”

It’s unsettling how you could almost mistake the rest of your time together as a typical session with him. The only cosmetic differences being the harsh lighting from the vanity behind him and the uncomfortable feeling from the leather chair sticking to the back of your thighs. You’re also at a bit of a loss as to what to do with your hands without anything to take notes in, and the outfit has you feeling particularly vulnerable. As for his part you doubt you’ve ever seen him this relaxed in your presence before; leaning back with his legs spread and his robe exposing a mouth-watering amount of his torso. If you had to guess, it may have something to do with you being in his territory so to speak, as opposed to the typical setting of your office. Or maybe he’s just into your humiliation.

Aside from those factors, you would have even labeled today as a successful session… that is until the conversation takes a turn.

“I’ve done what feels like a thousand shows, most of them without all that crap Nic was pumping me with, but it feels like… I don’t know. Like that was some other guy that was performin’ and that he ain’t here tonight.”  

“This ‘other guy’ has he always been a part of the way you perform?” 

“I ain’t feel like myself on stage in a long time.” he said morosely.

“Elvis, I want you to try to recall a concert where you did feel like your true self. It doesn’t have to be the last time you felt this way, just the most memorable.” You replied leaning forward.

The half smirk that creeps on to his face makes you regret that question though. “Actually the show that comes to mind is the comeback special. You seen it before?” he asked. 

Yes. “...No, I-I believe I missed that one,” you manage to stutter out.

He grins knowingly, “Well they had me in front of an audience, maybe less than a hundred people and had me dressed all in leather with only a small square for a stage. In spite all that I felt free especially since Parker had almost nothin’ to do with it,” he said wistfully. “He chewed me out later for it, sayin’ shit like how it was no real audience and that they were told when to clap. But I knew…”

His hungry gaze meets yours and you feel a kin to prey about to be devoured. “You wanna know how I knew?” he said.

In spite of your gut instinct that you are delving into dangerous territory with this conversation, you’re far too curious at this point. So you try to swallow that uneasy feeling and reply in the affirmative.

“I came in my pants,” he says, taking a sip of his water, as neutral and matter of fact as if he were just telling you what he ate for dinner last night. 

“Wh-what?” you said, for the first time in your career, truly at a loss for words. 

Sex certainly wasn’t a taboo subject to discuss with your patients, and it wasn’t even the first time you discussed it with Elvis himself. But those conversations typically surrounded your patient's fears of intimacy with a new partner, and even though that wasn’t a concern for Elvis, he did make reference to it when discussing his need to please others. Most importantly though when discussing sex with a patient, you’ve never actually had the experience with them.

“It was the weirdest thing, Doc. Never happened before, hasn’t happened since,” he said, at complete ease with himself. “Sure a few close calls here and there, but it never got to that point. Hell, it mighta been the suit itself that did it for me. What ya’ think it means doll?”

And what can you say to that really? You try to even out your shallow breathing as your mind races through the possible implications of this reaction. You have certainly never met another performer before so you’re unsure whether this is even unusual to those in his line of work, but at the same time most people who do what they love for a living also aren’t sexually aroused by it, let alone reach climax through it alone. Previously you would have labeled yourself as firmly within that category, but that damp feel beneath your dress proves otherwise. 

Across from you, he waits patiently for your reply, but he is also openly delighted by your squirming state. 

“I-” you clear your throat. “Um… Sex is a perfectly natural thing.”

“Don’t I know it,” he smiles rakishly.

“Yes I…” you say, briefly losing your train of thought. “A way of interpreting the… arousal you feel on stage is that being there and performing in front of an audience comes just as naturally to you. As for what happened at your special, it may have been the moment you felt most acutely aware of your desire to be on stage.”

He nods his head and you continue. “You’ve mentioned previously how you were unsatisfied by your movie career by that point in time. So the return to the stage may have also acted as a cathartic release of all these pent up frustrations you were feeling up until that moment.” 

He raises an eyebrow at that in the way he typically does when he’s confused by your wording. “Basically you were feeling unhappy for a long period of time, so when you felt the joy of being back on stage, you’re…” you hesitate, suddenly embarrassed. “Body, as a result misinterpreted that joy as arousal. And adding to that, Parker’s disapproval as well as the feeling of being free that you described. It all culminated into that… reaction.”

He sits on your presumption for a moment, before chuckling a bit. “I see where you’re comin’ from on that doc. Though I gotta ask.”

You pause, apprehensive to what he may ask. “Ask what?”

“What are my chances for a repeat performance tonight?” he asks in a way you could almost mistake as innocent. As you feel close to hyperventilating, he continues. “I mean those things you brought up from the special are here tonight sooo…” he quirks an eyebrow, putting it on you to continue.

“...well… um” you draw out, truly dumbfounded and without any words to respond to that. You’re only saved from this conversation by hurried knocking at the door behind you. 

“Well, looks like we’re outta time here doc,” he said standing up, prompting you to stand up as well. With a hand on your lower back guiding you to the door, you don’t miss the fact he’s effectively dismissing you. “Baby, thank ya’ for comin’ down here tonight and settin’ me right. And I just want you knowin’ that this whole show is because of you. I don’t think I woulda made it this far without my girl” he said looking down at you and bringing you close while his other hand was on the doorknob. 

Your primary focus is trying your best to collect yourself before you need to go out there, but you’re so astonished by how he just so casually slipped in “my girl” into there. You know then you have to say something.

“But… I’m not your gir-” you quickly cut yourself off as you see his jaw clench, the previous look of satisfaction on a dime replaced with one of intense indignation at your denial. Before you can even begin to feel regret for your refusal, his expression just as rapidly shifts to one of downright mischief. 

Not wanting to find out what that look meant, you attempt to turn towards the door, only to be halted by an iron-like grip on your jaw. “Not my girl, huh?” he says, forcing you  to look at him, as he brings his face closer to yours. He then whispers, his lips just barely brushing yours, “tell that to them.” 

You can’t say you weren’t expecting him to bring his lips closer to yours, but you can say you weren’t expecting to be such a willing participant this time around. You can tell yourself all you want that you did it to save him from the embarrassment of being walked in on with a less than willing woman, but it seems, deep down, the both of you knew better. So you played your part as you grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck as your lips came together, and he was all too willing to believe in your role as his hand snaked down your back. You’ll never fully know (or at least admit) who closed the distance that night.  

All you really know is that being in here with him as he was now, was nothing short of intoxicating, in a way it had never felt in your office. You were not one to participate in drugs, but as his tongue slips past your lips to wrap around your own, you truly believe you could become addicted to this. His scent, his taste, his touch, all of it threatened to consume you whole and never let you go.

He was so all consuming in fact, you barely registered the sound of the door opening beside you, but you definitely don’t miss what feels like a dozen sets of eyes in full view of the both of you. You’re aware that you should in fact be more embarrassed of your compromising position with your arms thrown around his neck and his hand firmly on your ass. But with all the shame you’ve been feeling this past week, this hardly registers as the worst. Though you do feel a spark of it when he pulls away, and you let out a small whine from being denied his plush lips, until you feel them near the shell of your ear. 

His breathy demand for another session after the show is hard to deny in your state, and more so when you see the color of your lipstick haphazardly smeared across his downright sinful smirk. It goes without saying what that will entail, but you surprise even yourself by not immediately running for the hills. Instead you, with all the grace of a newborn fawn, stumble past a line of people rearing to get in and do their job. This venture, not at all aided by the playful swat he gives your behind. The “knowing” looks on some of their faces tells you what they are all assuming. Part of you wishes they were right, because doing that would somehow have been less shameful than what actually happened.

After that “session” you try to compose yourself as best as you can, and make your way to the ladies room. Alone in the restroom you see your face in the mirror and to your relief aside from the smudged lipstick, you look relatively fine. You reach for your bag to touch it up, only to realize that you forgot to grab it when he was leading you to the door. As you shudder at the thought of going back to retrieve it, you finally realize how much of a sopping mess you’ve made of your underwear. 

Insanity is truly your only defense for your next course of action, as you quickly remove your panties and dispose of them. 

After cleaning yourself up a bit, you end up wandering around backstage with a new resolve to not think about him. You still have roughly another hour to kill before the show is set to start, so unsure what to do with yourself until that time, you attempt to strike up conversations with your fellow VIPs. Your attempt at keeping your mind off of him proves fruitless though, as it becomes apparent that word travels fast behind the curtains, and their interest in you begins and ends with Elvis. You’re flooded with questions as to what he’s going to wear tonight, what he’s going to sing, if there will be an afterparty at Graceland and subsequent requests for you to try to get them invited. The only time any questions are directed at you, it’s simply polite inquiry as to where you met him and how long you’ve known him, and you try to be as vague and non-descript as possible.

One woman remarks how she thinks she saw you in a magazine last week along with “the big man himself.”

“Guilty,” you reply with a nervous laugh, because you truly are. How would you even begin to try to explain the truth?

You are able to meet most of the members of the so-called “Memphis Mafia,” and get the rundown as to who does what in the group after asking in an effort to get a basic conversation going. It doesn’t go unnoticed that none of them ask what you do for a living, only mildly interested in the fact you’re the new girl, as though being Elvis’ “girl” is supposed to occupy the totality of your existence. Usually you would take offense to this, but under these circumstances, you know the fewer in the know, the better. 

You don’t think you’ve ever truly considered the world he lives in until this moment. A world in which he’s surrounded on all sides by women that want him, and by men that admire and/or envy him. What does that do to a mind when everybody he meets falls into one of those two categories? How would one handle someone who doesn’t fit into either category? 

Eventually though Jerry finds you and brings you to your seat, front row and center, because of course Elvis would. You know from his stories about his Vegas residency that he would often kiss women in the front row, and you already have a feeling as to how this is going to play out. As Jerry leaves, you contemplate making a break for it at this point, but without your purse, that idea is quickly tossed out.  

You look around your area and breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that all are virtually unrecognizable. You know from the tabloids that this concert was deemed one for the ages already, being essentially his second comeback and with rumors flying around that there would be more than a few international attendants this fact is not all too surprising. There’s a small swelling of pride within you knowing that he is so loved worldwide that you quickly try to stamp down.

As the curtain goes up and the music starts to blare, you make the conscious decision that at this moment you are not his therapist, and that you are merely a fan. That you will be without worries at the state of your career right now, without fear that the APA is breathing down your neck, and definitely without any guilt to the sexual attraction you feel for him at this moment. Afterall you’re a fan, isn’t that just par for the course?

So as he steps on stage and immediately makes eye contact with you, you play your part. You get lost in it even, as you dance and sing and make a fool of yourself. He’s just… incredible doesn’t even begin to describe what he is as you’ve never seen someone move like he does, never felt music as you did in this moment. There’s not a single inch of the stage that’s not occupied by his presence as he’s able to keep the crowd fully enraptured for music they’ve undoubtedly heard hundreds of times before. His command over everything truly brings a new perspective to his King epithet. 

Despite your best efforts you cannot help but think of the comeback special incident and in the brief moments between songs you can’t help but observe and this makes you feel all the more  like a voyeur. In spite of the fact that there’s a couple hundred people watching the same show you are, they aren’t cursed with what you know. Unintentionally you read into every gyration, every hip thrust, even every time he throws his head back looking for any indication. You had thought about what he looks like in the throes of ecstasy an inordinate amount of times already this week, so you even compare every face he makes up there as well. 

Eventually, after two demands for an encore, Elvis merely has to put a finger to his lips to command the rowdy crowd down. “Now before I go,” he pauses with a slight quirk in his lips as he hears their protests, but continues with “I’m gonna leave y’all with somethin’ new.” This statement is met with uproarious applause as he gestures to the band behind him and begins. 

Want me to love you in moderation?

Do I look moderate to you?

Not even two lyrics in, you know you’re in trouble. Previously he had the decency to not single you out as he worked the entire crowd in front of him, but as he sings you know exactly who he’s directing this song to. 

And are you any better? Like the other women in the front row you move to the stage, as you're overpowered with the urgent need to be as close to him as possible. You’re overwhelmed with just about everything at this point: the audience, the song, him, and all your conflicting emotions this past week all reach a crescendo as he kneels on the stage before you. You’re crowded by his fans all reaching out to touch him as though he were some divine being. But you knew better.

Girl, you better learn

Can’t hold it in,

And girl you better learn

I just can’t win

Cause I don’t see the worth

I don’t see the worst

He is something monstrous, demonic almost. Elvis is a siren-like creature who is leading you to your doom. As he leans down closer to you, you stand on your toes, willing your knees to not give in at a time like this. The women around you flock even closer, all trying to get a piece of him, while he puts a hand underneath your chin, his eyes challenging you to stop him. He may very well be a siren but you’re his victim who is all too happy to drown at this point.

And I’m still tryna figure out if it

Always

Always 

Always 

Has to hurt

Unlike the last few times, you were very much prepared for this kiss. At least you were, until he proceeded to lean away from you and plant the kiss on the woman directly next to you. Time slows at this moment, truly forcing you to take in every single detail of what is happening not even a foot away from your face. He kisses her with all the filth and passion you were craving in that moment, and she just as enthusiastically kisses him back. 

His face is glistening with sweat from his performance that runs down onto her, but this woman doesn’t seem to mind. She will leave this concert and forever be able to have an interesting anecdote to tell at every party she will ever attend. This will be her one crazy story to tell about Elvis Presley, and the more logical side of you truly envies that about her. 

Finally, after what was perhaps only seconds but felt like an eternity, he breaks away from the kiss, though that doesn’t ease the heavy stone that has settled in your stomach. You want to cry, you want to scream, and judging from the state of the women around you, you wouldn’t be at all out of place. You’re upset that you’re in this position, you’re devastated over the fact that this is the man who holds your career in the palm of his hand, and most of all, you’re heartbroken that you even wanted him to kiss you at that moment.

Did he not see you? Did he mistake her for you? Shouldn’t you be glad about this new development? That hundreds of people weren’t witness to you flagrantly breaking every rule and ethical responsibility you made upon becoming a therapist? 

He answers all these questions with the single look he gives you as he stands before you, his lips now stained red from that random woman. 

You want looove

You feel a tug at your elbow as Jerry once more guides you backstage. Elvis for his part shamelessly watches you walk away all the while belting out those final lyrics of his song. As the lights from the stage blink out, and the crowd proceeds to explode in near-deafening screams and hollers, and you see him bow out as the curtain drops. You try to make yourself numb to it all as you make your way through the bustling corridors, but in reality you can’t ignore your heartbeat thundering through you, nor the uncomfortably slick feeling between your thighs. 

You have to get out of there and you know it. But you also want to stay and there’s no denying that. You have accepted that he has an unhealthy attachment towards you, and you naively thought you could work to dismantle it over the next few months to get him back on track. But seeing him kiss that other woman made you realize that this attachment threatens to be mutual, and that is truly where it will derail. 

Before you can figure out what you’re going to do, you’re back in front of his dressing room door and you walk in not even having bothered to knock. You find him along with several members of his crew already in there but upon seeing you he grins and a simple wave of his hand has them all scurrying out, leaving the two of you alone. He stays seated at the vanity, too comfortable apparently, with his feet propped up, the upper half of his suit peeled off of him, and a towel around his neck. He doesn’t even bother to fully turn around to look at you directly, he simply watches you through the mirror. 

“You enjoy the show Darlin’?” he says, lightly dabbing himself with the towel. “It sure as hell looked like you did out there.” 

Despite knowing he saw how you behaved, you still try to lie with an indifferent, “You did good up there.”

“Ahh, baby” he draws out in a light teasing tone. “Don’t be like that. Why don’t you come over here and tell daddy what’s wrong?” Your breath hitches at his casual use of that word and you find your feet making the decision for you. You make your way over to him and you finally find your purse on top of the vanity. You go to grab it but in one fluid motion he grabs your hand and you find yourself on his lap. As he leans forward for a kiss, you see the red that still paints his lips and without even thinking you use the towel to wipe some of it off. 

He makes a pleased hum at that, believing that this is what has you acting this way. 

Is it not though? You think sarcastically. After rubbing off most of the color you drop the towel letting it fall back into place on his chest. He takes your hand into his, and your heart does an embarrassing little skip as he gives it a sweet kiss.

“Baby, I was raised to be a gentleman,” he said, adopting a chivalrous affect. “If my bestest girl don’t like me kissin’ others, all she’s gotta do is say so. Then I ain’t never gonna do it again.” His eyes pleading as he waits for your answer.

So that’s what his plan was, you think bitterly. You’re resentful over the fact that it worked at all. But he doesn’t need to know that.

You rip your hand away from him as you reply with as much resolve as you can gather, “You can do whatever you want Elvis,” before mulishly looking away. He evidently didn’t like that answer, as he stood up to prop you onto the vanity and placed himself between your legs. You try to escape his grasp only for him to place his hands at the top of your thighs, effectively pinning you in place.

“I can do whatever I want?” he says in a low, challenging voice, looking you directly in your eyes. It is only then do you regret your wording. Were you not so petrified, you would have admired his ability to quickly turn your own dismissive words into seemingly an invitation. There is no denying the trembling force in your body at this point and with the way he’s holding it is only inevitable that he will find your secret. And as though reading your mind, you feel his thumb brushing your inner thigh, and he finally notices the slick feeling in between. If you're going to be honest with yourself, you think you’re even more wet than when you walked in.

He makes an approving hum as he flips your skirt up, and you get the momentary pleasure of seeing his eyes widen at your lack of underwear. That is until he quickly bunches up the material past your hips and you feel mortified at being naked from the waist down in a room you don’t remember locking. You’re even more mortified as he kneels down and begins to pepper your inner thighs with light kisses. You instinctively try to close your legs, but his grip makes it impossible, and he notices your effort.

“Ahh, sweetness none of that,” he drawls out, emphasizing his point with a small nibble at the sensitive flesh that has you cursing. You feel his hot breath waft over you and as you’re trying to wrap your head around what’s happening, he teasingly licks a stripe up your slit, giving you a taste of what he has to offer. You gasp for air as though you’re about to drown. 

“I can do what I want, can I?” he asks knowing you’re far too preoccupied to answer. “Well I want this,” he purrs, emphasizing his point with a soft kiss to your clit, which you meet with a strangled moan. He chuckles at your reaction before resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. “But I gotta know what my girl wants,” he trails off.

Your muddled mind cannot even begin to process the question itself before he follows up with. “What’d ya’ say mama? Do you wanna be my girl?” he says looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes of his, and you know there is not even a choice anymore. You’re so far gone at this point, you hardly hesitate in saying yes. “No, no mama. I wanna hear you say it.”

You can already feel a few shameful tears trailing down as you cover your face with your hands, as though that will absolve you of your next words. “Yes… I want to be your girl,” you cry out desperately, and he dives straight in. 

All of your composure is tossed out the window the moment you feel his mouth on your needy cunt, you moan and shout freely, no thoughts given to the people undoubtedly outside of the door. He’s going at an unhurried languid pace, exploring your nether regions, seemingly trying to learn what gets the biggest reaction out of you. He’s apparently indifferent to how desperately you need to cum. You grab at his hair and try to bring him closer, desperate for some control of this situation but the noticeable tightening of his grip on your legs make it clear that he’s going to take all the time he wants.

You’re there for what feels like hours before you’re at the point of begging him to let you cum. The King finally takes mercy on you as he stuffs his fingers into you while simultaneously nursing at your clit as you are finally allowed your release.

You’re a mess after that devastating orgasm, and as he brings himself back up to you, you don’t put up a fight to this kiss. You taste yourself on his lips, and the smallest, pettiest part of you feels victorious over that woman whose name you will never get to learn. Before you can dwell on that part of yourself, he spins you around so you’re facing away from him. Despite all of that you still feel yourself wanting for more, and as you look over your shoulder at him, you know he is very aware of that.

“Were you watching mama?” he said, pressing kisses to your neck as he undoes his belt. “Were you sittin’ there, wonderin’ if I did it again, and that’s how you got this wet?” You let out a small keen as you feel his cock just barely brushing at your entrance, and he presses a hand on your back, prompting you to bend over the vanity fully. You give a slight shriek as you feel a sharp swat on your ass. “Answer me,” he growls out, sending another shiver down your spine. 

“Yes,” you say, pushing yourself backwards to him. 

Another swat on the other side, “Yes what?” he rasps.

“Yes daddy,” you nearly cry out and you bury your head into your arms in shame as he drives into you. Once slotted fully inside, he pauses giving you time to adjust to him. The stretch of him burns only slightly this time around, though mostly you feel satisfaction as he feels achingly familiar. 

“You don’t gotta worry mama,” he pants next to your ear. “I saved it all for you,” he says as he slowly begins to push his hips back and forth into you. You find yourself just as eager as you push backwards to keep him within. You close your eyes to the sensations, as this feels like the closest you’ve come to a reprieve in this whirlwind of a week he’s caused. You want to lose yourself here, and for once want to believe as he does that this is any way healthy or sustainable for the both of you. This delusion has the ability to ruin you, but for the moment you truly just want to indulge yourself in it.

Reality will always win out though. At some point he thrusts so hard, your feet no longer meet the ground, and you have to brace yourself on the mirror. Here in this position you’re truly forced to look at yourself for seemingly the first time as you truly are. You see your eyes bloodshot and pupils blown, your mascara trailing down your face, and, mortifyingly, you're drooling from the pleasure at not only what he’s doing to you but the sight you're met with in the mirror. You also see him behind you, looking more animal than man with the way he forces your hips to meet his pace and the snarl that mars his face. It’s all too much for you to handle. The only way to describe how hard you came in that moment would be violently, as you convulse and sob terribly at all the shame and pleasure you’re experiencing in that moment. 

You feel him pull out, and moments later you hear a shuddering howl as he paints your lower back with his cum, effectively marking you as his. You sob even harder with the realization you had not even been thinking about protection in the last week, and now you fear that there will be another cord that will forever tie you to him. 

If he sees your tears he ignores them and places a kiss on your cheek before sitting you down in front of the mirror. He lets you know that he has a press conference soon, but that he will meet you back home for the afterparty. He quickly dresses himself while you use a tissue to fix your makeup and try to make the wrinkles in your dress less noticeable. Once outside the door he hands you off to one of his men with orders to take you back to Graceland.

It is only as you’re pulling up to Graceland do you realize you gave no resistance whatsoever to his whims and didn’t even try to insist you go back to your own apartment. You pay no thought to that as you see there are already many of his people there to celebrate his astonishing performance, and the last thing you need is to draw more attention to yourself by being the one woman having a breakdown at the party. 

So you slip back into your role as his girl, though can you even say that it is simply a role anymore when you fully agreed to it. 

Eventually he arrives home and is met with all the praise and glory he has earned tonight. Yet he barely looks at anyone before he seemingly sweeps the room to zero in on you. He grins and approaches you to sweep you into a hungry kiss which is met with various wolf whistles and cheers from those around you. You are still playing your part for the audience you tell yourself. 

The rest of the night is spent on his arm essentially advertising to all attendants that you're his. Eventually he announces to no one in particular that he is starting to feel tired, and it feels like only moments later when a mass exodus occurs, no one daring to stay past their welcome. The grip he has on your waist though tells you that he has no plans of letting you go.

That night and the following day in Graceland you spend in a daze of fucking and resting and even more fucking, interspersed with conversation between the both of you. Surprisingly you find yourself opening up to him as well, and with the conversations being not so focused on him, it’s easy to pretend that this is even remotely natural. 

You do make a few attempts to leave that day, each time met with some pushback on his part to get you to stay. Each attempt is met with some excuse on his part be it being too early, his fans outside the gates, his exhausted state etc., and immediately following your concession, you are bombarded with physical affection and compliments as to how understanding and what a good you are for him. You allow yourself to indulge in this fantasy for a little while longer, and stay another night with him.

The next morning, reality sets back in, and there is no denying your active part in this anymore. He kisses you good morning and he reminds you that you have work today. You’re amazed that he hasn’t already made you cancel all of your appointments today, until you remember who you have your final session with later. You shower and use his toothbrush, no longer hesitating to do something you would previously labeled as far too intimate to do with anyone, let alone a patient.

You are however disturbed but not surprised when you exit the restroom and find a full outfit ready for you. This one is more in line with your regular work attire but the blouse does have a rather loud pattern, a far cry from your admittedly limited, colorwise, wardrobe. Without the tags, you briefly wonder if this is something left behind by the previous stand-ins or if he bought it for one of them to better pretend they were you. You push that thought aside as you finish getting ready for the day. Being early on a Monday morning you are able to be driven to your office without the worry of any ogling eyes. He even gives you a parting kiss at the door and it feels far more domestic than it has any right to be.

You would deem that day almost normal. You are of course exhausted from the strange weekend you had, but somehow you also feel unfettered when compared to the stressful week you had previously. You receive some compliments on your blouse, and you are able to, through tightlips, confirm yes when someone asks if you got it from someone special. 

Other than that you are able to get back to your standard attentive self for your patients. Having worked with Elvis for nearing a year at this point, has had the unexpected benefit of making your other patients seem easier in comparison. You laugh at their funny stories, you dole out advice and insights when asked, and you comfort them when needed. These moments in between your nearly all encompassing thoughts around Elvis, you find, are a welcome respite from the looming black cloud that is your future as a therapist. 

Eventually though 4:30 PM arrives and you hear a knock at the door.

[auburnitzy]

OH MAH GAWSH I JUST SAW YOUR LATEST CHAPTER OF A NEW COMIC YOU'RE JUST MAKING! AAACK (/≧▽≦)/! I HAVE SOME QUESTIONS:

-What is this comic all abt?

-What or where does this comic take place in?

-How many chapters will this comic have?

EEK! I'M VERY HAPPY AND EXCITED THAT YOU HAVE A COMIC NEOW, THAT WAY I CAN GET TO KNOW MY PRECIOUS NAWA MORE >:3

QUESTION 1

You’re going to see her mess up. Joking! (Or am I?)

I’m going to explore her personality, line of thinking, and unhealthy mindset. She’s going to make mistakes in the process because of this.

It’ll also delve into her childhood, family, and pre-colonial culture of the Philippines (as much as I like the traje de mestiza and the culture during the Spanish Colonial Era, I want to give pre-colonial culture just as much love).

Also, character development. AND TRAUMA!

I figured it was time for me to stop pampering her. And I won't hold back.

QUESTION 2

Post S4! In the first chapter, she’s at the moon base.

QUESTION 3

No idea how many chapters it’ll have, but it has 4-5 arcs (or episodes). I have a rough draft, but it's not concrete and subject to change.

[hrefna-the-raven]

Heart of Steel

Fallout masterlist - main masterlist

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Song for this chapter:

Summary: You took the opportunity to ask Danse about having a private life within the Brotherhood while Maxson was on his way to see an old friend, someone he knew he could talk to.

Notes: I'm so obsessed with Maxson still being this traumatised boy that grew up all alone in the Citadel so here you go with some more insight into his thoughts and fears :) and some sweet funny misunderstanding with Paladin Danse because he's just adorable in his own way. This is not proof-read, finished it 10 minutes ago and decided to just post to not keep you waiting :)

Chapter 5 - Don't let me be misunderstood

After finally being able to leave his quarters, you swiftly changed into your uniform and made your way towards the kitchen, your hungry stomach growling. The tables appeared unusually empty for this time of the morning, with only Danse sitting there, enjoying a simple breakfast of toast and roasted meat. A sudden question popped up in your head, causing you to wonder about the personal lives of the other soldiers and what activities the Brotherhood allowed them to engage in outside of their duties. Reflecting on your pre-war military life, you recalled being granted quite a fair amount of freedom, including the ability to marry fellow soldiers and enjoy leisure time after completing your duties. However these were different times, with different rules in a strange world. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you approached the Paladin, trying to strike up a casual conversation.

"Hey Danse", you said with a sly smile, "you've brought me to the Brotherhood and I've been curious about a few things we never had a chance to discuss. Like for instance how do you unwind after a long day of battling wasteland creatures?"

Caught off guard by your question, Danse shifted uncomfortably. He was known for his unwavering dedication to the Brotherhood and delving into his personal life was a topic he seldom broached. He believed that he had already divulged more than enough about his past during your encounter at the police station. However, he sensed that you were genuinely attempting to fit in, and he had no qualms about sharing any information that could ease your transition into the Brotherhood.

"Well," he pondered, his face turning slightly red at your sudden focus on him, "I, uh, usually spend my free time focusing on my duties, training and maintaining my power armor."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his response, wondering if Danse even might be the right person for this discussion. The Paladin you got to know made you ask yourself more than once if he even knew the concept of a life outside the Brotherhood.

"No, no, Danse", you said, trying to explain the intend behind your question, "this is all too strict, too much of the soldier life. I meant, do you have any personal hobbies or interests? Something that helps you relax?"

"Oh, I understand. Well, I suppose I enjoy tinkering with my weapons and keeping them in top shape or upgrading them. It gives me a sense of fulfilment."

Impressed by his unwavering commitment, you decided to delve deeper and inquire about what you truly wanted to know. You had no idea where things with Maxson would lead, but given how that man ignited a mix of curiosity, desire and occasional frustration in you each time your paths crossed, you didn't want to rule out any potential outcomes, especially not the ones you secretly hoped for. The way he tugged at your heartstrings despite being entrenched in his stubborn beliefs and the crushing weight that came with the leadership of the Brotherhood, meant something to you. He was by far not the first interesting person you encountered since emerging from the vault but along with him came that feeling of a deep connection, an understanding you'd find with no one else.

"And what about love?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, "do you think the Brotherhood has any against, you know, sexual encounters or relationships with...uhm...fellow soldiers?"

Danse's eyes widened at your question. You caught him alone and discussed all those very personal topics. Thinking back at when he first met you, you were rarely quiet, constantly poking at him with remarks, statements or queries. There had to be more to this than he first thought.

"Uh, well, the Brotherhood focuses primarily on our mission to protect and serve. Personal relationships can complicate matters, so they are generally discouraged but not forbidden. We do in fact have a few soldiers and initiates dating each other", he stuttered, "but uhm if you were specifically asking about me, I truly appreciate the sentiment but I'm sworn to my duty and not available for any...uhm...romantic relations with you."

As you stood there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, you couldn't help but feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. This was definitely not the way you had planned this conversation to go.

"Oh, no no no! I apologise for the misunderstanding, Danse. I was actually referring to someone els...within the Brotherho...you know what? I'm glad we cleared that up. I'm just going to leave now. Bye and thanks."

You hurried down the long corridor, hearing Danse bid his farewells before you sprinted up the stairs and finally got out of sight. It almost made you laugh as you realized that talking to the Elder felt like a walk in the park compared to any conversation with Danse. You headed towards the airport beneath the Prydwen, switching on the radio attached to your Pip-Boy as you geared up for the shooting training. As you made your way closer, the sound of gunfire echoed through the air unleashed a wave of excitement within you. The Brotherhood of Steel's training exercises were renowned for their rigour and you were determined to prove your skills, hoping Maxson would be there to watch, giving you another opportunity to spend more time with him under the cloak of duty.

Maxson made his way down to the airport, the weight of loneliness growing heavy on him, an all too familiar feeling. He needed someone to talk to, someone who'd listen, regadless whether they replied. Surveying his surroundings, he proceeded through a security door at the back of the main building. The dimly lit room emitted a faint aroma of oil as he approached the table. It was a whimsical, childish notion that led him here, but the instant he caught sight of it, a comforting sense of home enveloped him.

"Hello old friend", Maxson whispered tenderly, his hand resting upon the colossal robot head resting on the table.

He leapt onto the table, taking a seat beside the head, his legs dangling and swinging as he shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He felt the sadness of that little boy back in the Citadel who had no friends but was burdened with high expectations because of his name. He chuckled softly at thought that Rothchild wouldn't chase him away this time and if someone else were to stumble upon this place, he could simply claim to be inspecting the Brotherhood's most promising weapon. The perks of bring the Elder now instead of that little boy. He shook his head, scolding himself mentally for even being here, knowing all to well that he shouldn't try to make friends with a machine and yet, who else would listen to him without passing judgment? Perhaps you, but how could he discuss all of this with the person who started it all?

" I apologise for my absence and lack of visits all those years. It has been a challenging time for me, especially after losing Sarah. I didn't know what to do anymore, I was completely alone...", his voice trembled and tears formed in the corners of his eyes, " I trained, I fought and look at me now, Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, upholding the Maxson legacy and striving to protect the people." 

He couldn't hold the tears back anymore, all the weight of loneliness crushing him. He had managed to deceive everyone, including himself, until you entered his sacred space and saw through his facade from the moment you set foot on the Prydwen.

" But I feel alone, old friend, all the burden to bear yet never anyone to confide in, to share it with. But there is someone new in the Brotherhood, joined two days and you wouldn't believe how she's turning my life upside-down."

He chuckled, brushing away the tears from his face, the edges of his lips twitching into a joyful smile as he reminisced in the memories of last night.

"Believe me, if you could meet her you'd adore her too, she is everything I also thought I'd be when I grew up. Strong, kind and fearless in the face of true injustice. I envy her, she can be herself unburdened by the weight I have to carry...sometimes...I...I wish I could just leave, be someone else, be me but that was never my destiny, wasn't it? If you could you'd probably ask me what she means to me, well that is a difficult question. I hold great admiration her, I think there might even reside love deep in that broken heart of mine but I'm also afraid of her in a way. What if I disappoint her? What if I fail to meet her expectations? Given how persistent she was on tearing my defenses down, would she even care for expectations? Wouldn't she simply want the real me? But then again who exactly would that be?"

Arthur leapt from the table, pacing in circles before the head, his gaze fixed on the floor as he became lost in his thoughts. It eluded him how you'd even be able to like him, given how you disagreed with him on your first meeting. You remained a riddle, and the more he tried to unravel you, the more you seemed to fade into the mystery that defined you. A sigh escaped his lips; all his questioning and doubting amounted to nothing. He couldn't negotiate with the worries away that held his heart hostage; the only way out was to confront whatever lay ahead. He had to brace himself for whatever the next encounter with you had in store. His footsteps came to a halt in front of the table once more, his gaze shifting up to the visor of the robotic head. Gently, he placed a hand on it, tenderly tapping the cold metal.

"Thank you for listening my dear friend from days gone by."

He made his way towards the exit, his gaze lingering for one last moment.

"See you later, alligator", he chuckled with genuine joy.

As he flicked off the light and left the room, he knew he had to leave the little boy he missed so much behind, along with Liberty Prime as his friend, all for the sake of the Brotherhood. However, he also held onto a glimmer of hope that, with you, he'd found a new place he could finally find and cherish what that boy always longed for and it left him with a warmth he'd try to keep at any cost.

Chapter 6 - Dream a little dream

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story :)

[shamera]

March-April manhwa reccs

In the vein of my last few reccs, here is the latest instalment in Shams-reads-too-much (I know it's only mid-April). This time, I'm back to the top 3 format but with a list of Honorable Mentions because oh boy, the readin' don't stop!

3. The Guild Member Next Door [30 chapters so far]

How is no one talking about this one? The first BL series to make it on my top lists, this is an online gamer meet-ugly cafe story that had me cackling through every chapter. It will brighten your day (threat). The story of an office worker slash secret gamer who starts playing the MMO Illusion and tries to join Poseidon guild only to immediately get PK'ed and accused of being a stalker's alt account, and in his revenge he befriends the entire guild as an FU to his attacker, only for his attacker to in-game propose to him to troll him in return. An adorable and hilarious story following the two as they purposefully step on each other's toes all the way until they're friends in-game, never realizing that they actually know each other IRL!

2. Martial God Regressed to Level 2 [one season]

Let's just say in chapter 1 all of humanity dies, so we already know how this story's going to go. Another OP protagonist whom I really enjoy, starting from scratch in hopes of saving the world. It's Seong Jihan's relationship with his family that makes this series hit different, as he not only uses his knowledge to try and prevent humanity's tragedies, but also does his best this time around to save his niece from her downward mental spiral and become a good role model for her after her father walks away. With little to lose now that he knows what's to come, the MC is more than willing to make enemies out of everyone to ensure they step up their game before the real fight for humanity begins.

1. SSS-Class Suicide Hunter [3 seasons]

This was already on Honorable Mentions back in December, and I know my recc list is meant for new reads, but I had to slap this down again after the PHENOMENAL season 3 ending. We've already seen Kim Gongja's crazy fights to ascend the tower, but the sheer hope. The belief in a better world that these characters have, and their determination to make it so, brought me to tears at the end of season 3. The story of a hunter with negative survival instincts, and a power that allows him to regress to a day before he dies every time he dies... it's not the type of story that I expected to see such delicate beauty within suffering, but here we are, with an MC ready to delve into storybooks to empathize with and relieve the suffering of the characters within, no matter what it takes. I'm so excited for season 4 and the next storybook, I am vibrating.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Raising a Sacrifice

This series is impossible to describe and impossible to put down for long. This is the ultimate fantasy time-loop transmigration system apocalypse god-maker BL I have ever read? It's what happens when the apocalypse keeps resetting and you can never escape that last year no matter how many times you die, and the toll on one's mental state when you start trying-- everything. Murder. Genocide. Madness. And falling in love, again and again and again. And being alone again, after every reset. Thousands and millions of times until you lose all hope, until one day... the MC wakes up with memories of being murdered by his faithful knight, and now there's finally two people with memories beyond one timeline.

Medical Return [complete!!]

The story of a surgeon who led a pitiful life, only to return to his childhood once more by the grace of the gods-- and this time he's determined to not lead the same life again! Now if only the world got that hint, as he seems to be continuously steered back onto his original path, while trying to dodge the tragedies in his life and save just one more person others gave up for dead. This time around, he has a little outside help to finally uncover just why his life went so wrong at every turn the first time and help him retain that inherent goodness without being taken advantage of once more. With an MC with a deposition truly befitting a good doctor, this is for all fans of hospital dramas, and is complete!!

Kill the Villainess [complete!!]

The only way to return home is to play the role of the villainess, Eris, who is condemned to death after attempting to kill the heroine. There is no way to escape that fate, as Eris can't even succeed at taking her own life before she completes her part in the plot. The story of a villainess trying to die to change the story, yet unable to as she continues to uncover backstory beyond the original novel to find the reason why her soul was stuck in this world and unable to leave, while attempting to bypass paths that would trap her in the novel forever. At what point will her actions make her a true villain, and just what is she willing to do in order to return home to the real world?

Little Mushroom

...my cheat this month, with me using the novel cover and everything. (Please read the books, there are only 2 novels and the prose is breathtaking.) The manhua is absolutely gorgeous beyond compare, and the story covers a sentient mushroom post-apocalypse who is journeying into a dangerous human settlement trying to find the spore that was taken from him. In a world where threats to humans loom at every corner and shadow, drastic measures are taken to protect those who survive, employing "Judges" with absolute power to kill if they suspect a being of not being human. It's the story of a non-human and a Judge finding themselves and each other by navigating the active end of the world.

My Darling Signed In [complete!!]

Cute?? Adorable???? Another online gamer couple who meet in real life, this BL story is genuinely all fluff as the MC is found to play a beautiful female elf online, yet their beau falls in love either way as it was the same charisma and personality that drew them in. A green flag couple with turns that surprised me every time with how wholesome things are. It's 2 seasons and complete, featuring them from collage to work space through their ups and downs, navigating their relationship and growing as people all the while continuing their game. Do you need a cute read with a guaranteed happy ending? Here it is!!

Zero Day Attack [1 season done]

Another BL on the list?? This month is full of surprises, as this time it's about a hacker who had to go into hiding after being exposed and is now a barista by day while working to find the man who betrayed him by night, all the while running away from both the organizations he hacked and his old colleagues who are looking for him. Things get complicated when a man who shows up at the cafe he works at won't leave him alone, and blurs the line between his search for revenge and the fake life he's currently living. This one eked its way above Netkama Punch for the mystery and intrigue (as well as having a main couple who is obsessed with each other without wanting to bring harm to the other).

I Will Change the Genre

A transmigrater meets a regressor, and suddenly the novel plot is going very, very awry! In the novel, Judith Maybaum is the hateful aunt of the main character who betrays her nephew and dies for it, yet "Judith Maybaum" isn't actually the same character now, and her nephew is also acting very odd when the story starts rolling. She's determined that her nephew will not go through his lonely and sorrowful life this time around, even if it means giving his custody to the Duke Winterwald, yet for some reason the protagonist clings to her and calls her 'mother' when the Duke comes to take him away! A touching and funny story with, once again, a green flag couple as well as an adorable aunt and nephew pair, both with foreknowledge of the future in different ways as they mess things up and unravel a story that neither of them knew.

GOOD ENOUGH I READ EVERYTHING: -Netkama Punch -The Bromance Book Club [complete] -The Live [complete] -I'll Be the Matriarch in this Life -Reincarnator -Dark Mage Returns to Enlistment -The Main Characters that Only I Know -My Lucky Encounter from the Game Turned Reality -The Archmage's Restaurant -I Tamed a Tyrant and Ran Away -I Created an Urban Legend -The Regressed Demon Lord is Kind

[siriusleee]

adamantine chains | part 3

"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus." "What does that mean?" "Love is rich with both honey and venom." "I suppose that is true." Or which in König finds you broken in the mountains. A (brief) retelling of Cupid and Psyche. König | Reader

tags: no tw for this chapter, eventual smut, eventual death, idk yet request a fic here | buy me a coffee so I don't have to work overtime and can write more

a/n: we will not delve into the full cupid psyche story this month. this is just part 1. the rest will come later.

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

The days pass slowly. You rotate through reorganizing and cleaning König's house, hands searching for something to keep them busy and from worrying about where your fiance could be and running errands for Oma. On the tenth day, it finally happens. You're trying to figure out what to cook yourself for dinner when a knock on the door startles you. 

The policeman, the same one König spoke to just eleven days earlier, waits for you outside, hat held tightly in his hand. He doesn't look you in the eye. Beside him is another man, one you've never seen before. When this new man speaks, his English is quick a hint of a British accent behind his Austrian one. 

"I am so sorry ma'am."

They help you up from the ground; you don't remember falling, but you know that his words have taken everything out of you. They help you settle into the chair by the fireplace before the man starts speaking again.

"I know this is difficult, but we do need to…ask you some questions."

You barely hear them, as they ask about the hiking trip, about your fiance's job, about how you got separated from the group that day. It isn't until the questions are over, that your brain starts to move again, and starts to ask questions again.

"Where is his body? Can I see it?"

The policeman who is speaking English shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and whispers something to the second policeman before speaking again; this time he can't look you in the eye.

"I am sorry, miss. But his body was taken by the United States government. We told them about you and how you were here with him, but," he pauses, clears his throat, "we were told you didn't have permission to be with him on his trip to Austria and that the government has no need to get you back home because you shouldn't be here."

For the second time, the floor falls out from beneath you.

When König arrives back home the next day, he finds you on the couch. You're wrapped in a blanket and fixated on the empty fireplace. He doesn't speak to you, doesn't even acknowledge you on his way past. 

The shower kicks on from down the hallway; the sound grates on your nerves and you curl in tighter to yourself. When König arrives back into the living room he brings the scent of cedar wood and clary sage and underneath it a scent of something heavier and iron-tinged. You can feel his eyes on you, boring into you but he doesn't speak. Instead, he goes to the kitchen and starts banging around, pots slamming onto the stove and the sound of the gas clicking to life. 

He doesn't speak to you until he sets down a bowl on the floor in front of you, the scene of garlic and tomatoes pulling you from the cocoon of blankets. 

"I have heard what the police said, and I am sorry Taube. "

At his words, you start crying again - you can see the panic behind König's eyes and he presses himself into the chair, trying to get as far away from you as possible. You finally catch your breath enough to choke out what's been eating at you for the last 10 days. 

"König I'm a terrible person."

" Nein, Taube . Why do you say that?"

Everything that has been bubbling inside you since you woke in Oma's house finally breaks through, and you sob between your words. 

"I'm horrible König, I didn't even care that he was lost in the mountain - I just wanted to go home. And now I can't, now I'm stuck here the government didn't even care they just left me here. And now I will never get home; it's my punishment for not caring about him."

When König speaks to you, it's quiet, calculated. 

"Why did you not care about him? He was your fiance?"

You press your hands to your face, trying not to puke all over König.

"I was only marrying him because I didn't know what else to do. He asked and I said yes, I thought it was what people just did. I thought I could love him, but I couldn't make myself feel it. And now he is dead, and all I feel is grateful that you found me and that I'm able to live."

You're hyperventilating, you can't breathe. Your hands press painfully into your face, trying to push the thoughts away from you. A pair of large hands wrap around your wrist, and König pries your hands away from your face slowly. He's knelt down in front of the couch, eyes trained on yours. 

"You are not terrible, Taube. Trust me when I say this. I know you are upset you cannot go home right now, but you are welcome to stay here for as long as you like. I know it has been nice for Oma to have you around when I was gone."

This makes you cry worse, and the crushing feeling of being a burden grows around you.

"Hush, Taube. I will take care of you."

You let him wrap the blanket back around you, and let him use the corner to wipe your face clean. He presses the bowl of food, spaghetti with so much cheese on top it's nearly ridiculous before he leaves you again to start the fire and warm the room up. 

You don't know how long it takes you to calm down, but your heart feels lighter, finally admitting the horrible thoughts you'd been having for months. 

The relationship had started innocently at first; you'd met your fiance at work. You did IT work for a banking company and he was a customer who had accidentally wandered into the wrong part of the bank. It had been a whirlwind, him sweeping you away and convincing you to quit your job and move with him. The entire relationship had been rocky, but you had no way of knowing how to leave, and when he finally asked you to marry him you didn't know how to say no. There had been the worry that if you did, you would have nowhere to go - you didn't even know where your dad was asking him to come to get you (not that he would, but it had always been a hope). And then there had been dress fittings, and cake tasting. Finally, the trip to Austria, a honeymoon before the wedding because your fiance would be gone for work the day after your wedding. 

To finally admit to someone how you felt was liberating, even if it did make you feel like a horrible person. 

You don't know how long you sit there before you finally manage to eat. The pasta is cold, but the sauce is still amazing. König sits in the chair, eyes boring holes into the wall before turning towards you. 

"You've never said, how you speak Polish."

You stir the leftover sauce in the bowl around as you think back.

"My grandfather was from Poland. He immigrated to the United States after the Nazis started taking over. His father sent him to the United States alone, he was really young too. Anyway, he lived in the United States for the rest of his life. My mom died when I was born, and my dad left me on his doorstep before I could even cry for help. So my grandfather raised me. We only spoke Polish at his house."

"And he is dead now, no?"

"Yeah. He died when I was in college. He owned an orange grove and, I didn't know this, but he was selling off parts of it to send me to college. So when he got sick, there was no money to pay for his treatment and no land to sell for it either."

"I am so sorry, Taube. "

You set the bowl down beside you, changing the conversation to something that isn't eating you from the inside out.

"What does that mean? Taube ?"

König shifts in his seat, slouching down so that his legs are spread out in front of him and his head can rest on the back. 

"It is just a polite word for a young woman."

"But-"

"Enough, Taube. "

The weeks at König's pass by easily. You find yourself slipping into a comfortable pattern, the two of you rotating around each other like planets caught in each other's orbit. When König is gone, you figure out how to entertain yourself: helping Oma take care of herself, developing your film in the dark room König set up for you, and selling the prints of the local scenery in one of the local cafes. 

When König finds you after his last work assignment, you're in the dark room, developing your recent prints. You don't speak as he folds into the room and presses against the doorway.

"You know König I don't have a disease. You don't have to keep yourself so far away from me." 

He doesn't speak to you as you clip your next print to dry, solution dripping down your fingers. You're taken back to that day in the mountain when the rain fell onto your skin, and you have to take a deep breath to steady yourself against the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to break through. You turn your attention to König to distract yourself. 

"Are you going to speak, or are you going to stay there staring at me menacingly?"

"I am not staring menacingly."

"You wear a mask König; you are the definition of menacing."

König grumbles but doesn't say anything to refute you. Wiping your hands on your jeans, you turn to stare at him, hip cocked against a table to mimic his pose. König shuffles his feet, eyes turned down at the floor. His hands are behind his back; his forearms are tight. 

"König what is wrong?"

"I was," his voice catches, "I was wondering if you wanted to go get dinner tonight so that we did not have to cook."

His voice is cracked, lilted in a way you haven't heard before. You frown at him, trying to figure out what is wrong. In a second, his demeanor changes; he shrinks in on himself and gives you a curt nod. 

"I will leave you alone then."

He's out the door before you're able to catch up to him, hand wrapping around his elbow to stop him. His eyes crinkle on the edges when he looks down at you, and you know he's frowning beneath the mask. His muscles are rope tense beneath your hand; you realize with a skip of your heartbeat that this is the first time you've ever touched him.

"What's up with you? Of course, I want to go out with you."

The muscles under your hand relax incrementally and you expect König to step away from you like he always does. But he leans just an inch closer when he speaks.

" Perfekt. "