#but because we have so many people doing so many different things
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drchucktingle · 2 days ago
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how are you human?
so many interesting comments and thoughts on my post saying buds should consider not coming up to strangers in marginalized groups and saying 'how are you a real person that actually exists?'. i will point out this: despite my VERY gentle tone a few buds said i was having a 'meltdown' for even mentioning it
others said i was being too serious for someone who is ‘not a real person’. so if you would any more evidence of what it is like to be a buckaroo like myself there it is. every day, autistic folks who may seem ‘weird’ are bombarded with messages and comments and implications that they are fundamentally not human beings
sometimes it is outright and blatant like the comments on last post saying ‘well why are you getting mad? you are not even real’ and sometimes it is in the very subtle ways that folks use language when they talk to us. there is huge difference between ‘how do you exist?’ and ‘i am glad you exist.’
anyway, something that i think many people who have not lived this experience dont seem to understand is i KNOW the poster who said ‘how are you a real person that actually exists’ probably meant it as a compliment. that is THE POINT of why i am taking a moment out of my trot to gently and anonymously let them know how it might feel to be on other end of something like this as a queer or autistic or otherwise marginalized buckaroo. it is obviously not their intent to actually hurt someone, so i am letting them know
maybe because queerness and autism are not physically apparent it is hard to explain, but imagine going up to very tall or very short person and saying ‘cant BELIEVE you are real’ as a compliment. not a great way to treat others. on my original post, an indigenous author chimed in with their own experience and feelings similar to my own. a woman who said she was very tall told her story. point is, while i do not have their experience, what i am saying has a universal thread for 'othered' folks
point is: i UNDERSTAND there is this sort of exaggerated or ironic (or maybe even sometimes very literal) language around fandom to say things like ‘how are you a human?’ to creators, but since it is not your intent to hurt, i think you might want to know how that feels to marginalized buckaroos sometimes.
obviously you can say anything you want. i do not hold it against you. also, if you think ‘oh no, did i say something like this to chuck at a convention? i am so embarrassed' then DO NOT WORRY i promise you buckaroo you are just fine. i present myself in a way that is unusual by definition, so i have pretty thick skin about this type of thing and a lot of patience. MANY buds start off thinking i am ‘a joke’ and then become fans over time and i am glad to trot beside them and prove love is real.
however there are other autistic or queer or marginalized buckaroos with smaller platforms who hear this just as much as me, so i think it is important to say it loudly and maybe together we can work on making a very slight shift in the way we speak to the ‘others’ in our lives
we do not NEED to let subtle dehumanization slip into our language. in some cases it has been called ‘micro aggressions’ but i think buds dont often consider what that means for COMPLIMENTS. ultimately, telling marginalized people YOU ARE SO AMAZING YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY EXIST may seem very fun and silly on the surface and for some folks it probably feels that way, but for others it can feel like a reminder of the broader doubt about their humanity. you can just say ‘YOU ARE AMAZING’ without the reminder of the many times autistic or queer or marginalized folks are told in a very serious and pointed way (like comments on the last post) ‘YOU ARE SO WEIRD THAT I HAVE DECIDED YOU ARE NOT REAL’
buckaroos can take this information and apply it to their interactions, or they can ignore it, that is totally fine. we are all trotting our own trots and proving love in our own way and thats okay bud, HOWEVER i feel like it is important to at least let folks know, even if that means getting told i am having a ‘meltdown’. i think it is important to have complex or difficult conversations if it will prove a little more love in the long run. THANK YOU FOR READING BUCKAROOS. i am honored to trot forward with you can tackle this kind of thing with you, and honored you buckaroos have created such an amazing space with me to pull apart these kind of feelings. THIS IS PROOF THAT LOVE IS REAL LETS TROT
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bee-whistler · 3 days ago
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The challenge here is that we can write them, but even with extensive research, you feel like you’re appropriating, y’know? I can write about ADHD and Autism, because I have those. I can write about back problems, neck problems, astigmatism, because I have them. I don’t feel so weird writing about someone with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, or Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, because my daughter has those.
But even with research, I feel like I can’t make a main character out of anyone with a fundamental difference from me, such as health issues, skin color, sexual orientation, etc, unless I keep the insights super general. Say, life including a black family in your set of main characters, but all their traits and experiences are things that could happen to anyone because… they could happen to anyone!
But is that enough, when it’s something that affects your daily life? Your health, your skin color, your orientation, your income… they can define how any situation lands.
I dunno, is there some resource for this kind of thing? Because even reading up on it is not living with it. I don’t do more than unpublished comics and fanfics currently, but I want to be inclusive, and I know others do, too. Inclusive, but natural. Just people as people are, irl, not one of these “look how disabled I am!” or “look how gay we are!” kinds of stories. Just people, with their many variations, interacting.
I guess… I’d like y’all to make sure that YOU write about it, too. Because you know it best of all. And then we can learn what it takes to craft those characters for you to read about. Because we’re willing. We just feel like we’ll step on some toes.
we Need more characters in media who are disabled just because their body did that. having disabled characters at all is so rare and usually they were injured in some disaster and they Should still exist but like !! as someone who slowly became disabled for no apparent reason. i want character like me, too
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nianeyemystic · 2 days ago
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Moon & Mars in Synastry
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(18+ observation’s)
I’ll forever talk about moon & mars in Synastry charts. a lot of astrologer emphasize what mars & Venus looks like, but I believe the REAL LOVERS have moon & mars.❤️‍🔥
The moon shows us what we connect to emotionally. What makes us feel safe & ultimately how we express our emotions. So many affectionate displays are here with the moon 🌙 . So when in contact with Mars in another’s chart, you can really see how Mars becomes so intensely desirable for the Moon. Intense sexual attention is likely here. But what I really care to express is how deeply these two will connect on all physical levels. 🤭
The Mars person probably will find Moon so soft, gentle, nurturing , beautiful even. It’s like something f to take all the fire & passion of Mars & lightly blow on it. Not blowing it out but making it wilder & even more dangerous 😉🥵
I’ve had this Synastry with different people both ways & when I tell you I’ve become so addicted to studying the way this plays out. You can find this deeper love story here, and if it gets past the friend zone. You can expect a lot of baby making 🥴 another thing I’ve noticed is it’s not a connection that fizzles out quickly… even though there is tons of physical attraction, I think the way each persons responds to one another’s feelings adds to the chemistry.
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You could easily leave an impact on one another with this Synastry. So much so that even if you are at a distance from one another or lose contact, you’ll never forget the love you shared. I think it can be a really beautiful placement to look for if you want passionate love.
There is a strong instinctive sexual attraction between these people, even when the Moon is the man and the Mars is the woman. There is likely to be arguging ( even over petty things ) and Make Up Sex. However, in some cases the Moon person may not want to have sex because they are so mad.
✨Be mindful though, the Mars person needs to pay a lot of attention to the way they treat the Moon person. Moon will be likely sensitive. So Mars may have to tone down aggression to avoid conflicts or fights. Similarly for the Moon person, try to not take everything to the heart, or let your feelings be on the forefront every time.✨
I have Moon conjunct Mars natally, so when I encounter somebody who’s moon touches my mars or vice versa - instant fireworks. 🎆 It’s been one of my favorite experiences 😌 even when things get explosive or a little bit crazy- I think having this aspect Nataly helps me not fear it or dislike it too much. I can handle a lot of intensity & so I attract the same 🙃🙂 can be a good or bad thing depending on how you handle the energy.
Do you share these with anybody? Tell me about it !
- @nianeyemystic
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blacktabbygames · 3 days ago
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Cant remember if you answered this already but do you guys have any personal favorite video games in 2024?
We've finished surprisingly few games this year, and I don't love weighing in on games I haven't finished, but here's some favorites we played (not all of them came out this year though!):
The demo for Perfect Tides Station to Station - I was lucky enough to get a sneak peak of the full first season in the sequel. The first Perfect Tides is one of my favorite interactive narratives of all time it really says something that the sequel so far blows the first game out of the water. Aspirationally good. Criminally underrated. League of its own. Thronefall - Great mix of tower defense hack and slash, and resource management.
South Scrimshaw, Part One - Phenomenal and imaginative visual novel styled as a documentary about the life cycle of a whale species on an alien planet.
1000xResist - Wildly complicated narrative that beautifully weaves together an astounding number of themes. What does it mean to yearn for a place that no longer exists? I would recommend going into it blind.
In Stars and Time - We're bad friends and didn't have the chance to finish it until this year. Really thoughtful time loop narrative. Made us cry.
Nine Sols - I'm breaking my "I haven't finished it" rule because I really like what I've played so far. It's also pretty hard so not something I want to pick up when I get tired. Brilliant metroidvania by Red Candle Games, who are one of our favorite developers. Quite a different direction than their previous titles though (Devotion and Detention.)
Thank Goodness You're Here - really funny slapstick adventure :)
Path of Exile 2 - Finally an ARPG with challenging gameplay that's deeper than spamming 4 buttons really fast.
Alan Wake II Welcome to Nightsprings DLC - SO clever and creative. Really loved the text-based adventure in the last one.
On my ever growing backlog: Animal Well, Lorelei and the Laser Eyes (I've heard people have needed physical notebooks for this one though so it might not be my speed), finish Indika, which is so stylish, finish Rise of the Golden Idol (loved the first game!) We've done so many things this year — Pristine Cut, move into a new place, get married, etc, so I've been too tired to engage with a lot of more difficult games.
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 days ago
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stitches. l Joel Miller
before Jackson
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Summary: the moment Joel thought he might lose you
Warnings:  angst, blood, weapons, Ellie is in on it, tears, rough night for Joel, some swearing
A/N: this is before they appear in Jackson. the idea for this chapter was given by the wonderful @underneath-the-sky-again . thank you so much! i hope you like it, sweetie. ❤️
your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
short stories from life. [masterlist]
"Take Ellie and try to get out of here."
You looked at him with fear but also determination in your eyes. He had expected the words that left your lips "I won't leave you, Joel."
"But you have to, if you want Ellie to be safe." You nodded "I'll find you. We'll meet outside the city. Remember that red brick building? We'll meet there."
You didn't ask any more questions, just grabbed Ellie by the arm and led her out the back door. Once again, for a moment, you turned to look at Joel.
"Go. Now."
He should have been less harsh. He should have done a lot of things, and he definitely shouldn't have led you there. The road through the city was definitely shorter, and you could find the supplies you needed for the rest of the journey. 
You were all tired, and Ellie was grumpy. She was tired of sleeping under the stars, and when you got soaked one night, she was even grumpier than Joel.
"Something warm, a piece of dry floor. That's the basics!" she said and finally Joel gave in.
These people were probably thinking the same thing. They knew someone was in the building, but they didn't know how many people were there or whether they were armed, that was to your advantage.
Joel reloaded his gun. Maybe you could get out without being noticed? But he had to distract these people, let them think you left the city a different way. His thoughts ran to you and Ellie once more, he knew you'd be fine.
The moment he entered the red brick building on the outskirts of town he knew something was wrong. It was already dark when he entered and secured the door.
"Ellie?" he called out in a muffled voice "Ellie!"
He almost had a heart attack when the girl appeared at the end of the corridor with a flashlight in her hands. Her eyes were wide, she was shaking.
"Are you okay?" he asked, quickly approaching her "W-What is it? Blood?"
Ellie's hands were covered in blood, some of it smeared on her cheek. She was pale as a sheet. Your name barely escaped her lips, and Joel felt as if his legs were giving out under him.
"That guy appeared out of nowhere!" the girl gasped, "She's bleeding terribly."
Joel rushed into the room after her. He knew one thing, he would never forget this sight. You were lying on the floor. Ellie had somehow managed to take off your jacket, but your shirt was soaked in blood on one side. The old towel that Ellie used as a dressing was already covered in blood.
"Fuck!" Joel hissed, falling to the floor next to you. "What happened?"
"There was a guy..." you replied quietly, you were breathing as if you were fighting for every breath, your eyelids seemed so weak. "A few streets away..."
"And you made it all the way here? In this condition?!"
"What was I supposed to do?!" Ellie groaned, sitting on her heels on the other side of you. "She didn't say anything. It wasn't until we left the city..."
Joel's hands easily removed yours, he lifted the towel and uncovered your side. The red mark from the knife ran almost from your hip to your bra. The wound was bleeding badly, although not as intensely since you moved less and pressed the towel that Ellie gave you.
"She'll be fine, right?" the girl's quiet voice focused Joel's scattered thoughts. "Hey! I'm asking you something!"
He nodded. That was all he could do, because he was afraid his lips would betray him. They would betray his fear, worries and uncertainty about you. It looked like you had lost a lot of blood. How much? He wasn't sure.
Focus! Focus!
"There's water in my backpack. Give it to me!" he ordered.
Ellie quickly rushed towards the backpack and after a moment pressed a bottle into his hand. He poured it over your side to clean it a bit.
"Joel? Joel..." you sighed.
"I know, give me a moment." he mumbled, but your hand lightly grabbed his. "My backpack... Ellie knows."
He looked at you, confused, and then at the girl. She didn't wait. She ran to your backpack lying against the wall and started looking through it, finally pulling out something that looked like a makeshift first aid kit. She threw it towards Joel.
A small bottle of alcohol, some bandages, antibiotics that had long since passed their expiration date. It looked bad, but it was all he had.
"I'd have to stitch the wound up." He said more to you than as if he was planning on actually doing it.
You nodded. Your eyes were closed, your breathing shallow. Despite everything, when he poured the alcohol on your side, you hissed loudly in pain.
"Fuck! I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry..."
"It hurts her." Ellie groaned, her voice shaking as she sat down next to Joel.
"I know, but it'll hurt more."
Ellie's small hands pressed a spool of thread and a needle into his palm. Without a word, she walked to where your head was, took your hands, and squeezed them tightly. She knew what had to be done, and so did you. She laced her small fingers with yours and nodded at Joel.
He couldn't remember the last time he was so scared.
Joel opened his eyes and lifted his head. He shouldn't have fallen asleep. He couldn't.
It was starting to dawn. Ellie was curled up next to you, her bloody fingers still tangled with yours. She had spent the whole night watching over you and it was only a few hours ago that he had finally managed to convince her to go to sleep. The night watch belonged to him.
After you had passed out while he was stitching your body, you hadn't opened your eyes yet. Joel knew that this night would haunt him for a very long time. 
Ellie's pale face, her tears running down her cheeks, your blood on his and her hands. He only hoped that he had done everything right. He couldn't lose you, not now, not ever.
Ellie stirred and rubbed her eyelids.
"She's not awake yet?"
Joel shook his head. "You should still be asleep, kiddo." he muttered.
She sat up and rubbed her face with her hand. Her eyes were puffy with tears.
"Do you think she'll wake up?" she asked.
God, she has to!
"If she doesn't wake up on her own, your talking will do the trick" he said, relieved to see the shadow of a smile on Ellie's lips. "You were brave, you know. If it wasn't for you..."
"You sewed her up like a rag doll." she said. "I wouldn't know what to do."
"You would know. You knew she had a first aid kit with her. Good job."
"Yeah, she showed it to me a while ago. She said it was just in case." Ellie stood up and stretched. "I need to find the bathroom. Will you watch her?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She smiled and quietly left the room. Joel leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His whole body ached. Warm coffee would be something he would give a lot for.
A thought flashed through his mind - how long will you have to stay here? Is this place even safe enough for another night? What if he did something wrong?
"J-Joel..."
It was quieter than a whisper, but he still heard it. He opened his eyes and saw you looking at him, your eyelids still heavy, but you fought them.
"Hi, darling." he greeted and stood up to crouch next to you. "How are you feeling?"
"Ughh...horrible..." you sighed.
His hand touched your cheek and forehead. You saw the worry written on his face combined with the sleepless night.
"You had a small fever last night. I gave you antibiotics."
"Shit..." you groaned. "You wasted it on me?"
"Best decision ever."
You wanted to smile, but the muscles in your face were strangely numb. Meanwhile, Joel lifted the jacket you were wearing and glanced at your side. The wound was still red, but it wasn't anything to worry about. The most important thing was that you weren't bleeding. And you were conscious.
"Where's Ellie?" you asked.
"She's looking for the bathroom. She sat with you all night." He looked at you with sympathy and worry. "How did you manage to get here? When I showed up, you looked terrible."
"Yeah... That guy, I wasn't expecting him. I didn't want to shoot... That would draw attention."
He nodded. Damn, he knew you were strong and resilient, but he was still full of worries about you. 
Your presence was soothing to him, and the relationship you had with Ellie... The girl would break down if something happened to you. So did he, although he didn't want to admit it. 
You, on the other hand, twitched strangely, making a movement as if you wanted to get up.
"What the hell are you doing?" Joel covered you with his jacket again "You're staying like this."
"We can't stay here. These people..."
"We'll stay another night, or as long as we have to." he declared. "You won't be able to move around yet."
Footsteps in the hallway distracted you, because you clearly wanted to argue with him. Ellie's face lit up when she saw you and a moment later she was sitting next to you.
"Fuck! You scared us so much." she said. "Joel almost had a heart attack!"
The man threw her a look and shook his head. He listened to her babble as she told you in detail about the night, about everything that had happened. He smiled the moment he felt your fingers clumsily find his and squeeze them lightly.
A quiet "Thank you," that he appreciated more than anything. You were alive. Still. Soon you would move on. Slowly, but still, the three of you.
☆☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi
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kdgts---zooperz · 12 hours ago
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Hmm huh. HMM. those seem to be different things. They're certainly different letters. Call me crazy, but I don't think Punkitt's saying all women need to get into a stranger's car if asked. Do you inherently trust everyone who isn't a man? because i doubt that. that's crazy.
If someone says "Oh, its okay I'm racist, I have a good reason" does that... make it okay? We all have biases. Maybe you've been burned by the same kind of person over and over: men, asians, white people. and honestly? removing biases take time. feeling tense might not be avoidable, I certainly couldn't avoid the feeling. but you should understand that you shouldn't avoid-let ALONE treat someone poorly-based on a person's race, gender, disabilities, religion, ethnicity, background, relationship status, genetics, and, much much more.
It's okay i'm sexist, i have a good reason. does not exist. There is no good reason to discriminate against a group of people. Look, the Human brain is really REALLY good at making connections. you ARE going to feel a bias form after that, lets say, the third time in a week someone in full clown make-up and clothes beats you with an iron pipe. "Clown's make me uneasy" yeah. sure that makes sense. "I am not going to go to the circus" makes sense. "I'm going to avoid a clown if i see them in the store" a bit distrustful, but if its only been a month or so i guess "I think all clowns are inherently evil and i wish harm upon them" Okay you see how that's different? how that's crossing the line? I don't know exactly what punkitt was saying. I assume the message is "you shouldn't be sexist" which is uhh, not conversational?
I don't know about the other girls out there? but yeah. a man-sexist would make me feel unsafe. because what, all of those unchecked, encouraged, biases just went away when i told her im a transwoman, not a man?
HATE is HOSTILITY, by definition. so uhh, are y'all really gonna still defend your right to harass people solely on the basis of gender? "That's not what i meant at all!" Then fucking READ BETTER, I don't know what to tell you.
It's okay for me to discriminate against people on a large scale, a few people from those group did some very bad things to me. you know who else thought like that? pretty much everyone who's ever given the order to kill civilians on a large scale.
discrimination can never be okay. NEVER jeez... --AND IF THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU, IT ISN'T ABOUT YOU??!!??! I've suddenly seen so many people make this about them and then defened that it isn't- or outright say that there arn't people who outright HATE all men? okay. cool. then this post isn't for you??????????????????? Least im learning of people to block i thought were cool.
transgender women who have an irrational hatred of men you GOTTA get over that. Come on now
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wtfaniii · 20 hours ago
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I can do it alone, but he can also save me
Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho
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●Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between
●Note: Thank you for welcoming me so well on this platform! I'm still learning how to use it, sorry, Wattpad is my thing LOL But I'm understanding it more now
●Warning: Maybe some drama? Some violence and discreet flirting
The reader doesn't know who is In-ho, Jun-ho refused to talk about his past with her, so she is engrossed in the true identity of this handsome man.
Well, the plan hadn't worked out the way they wanted.
They had taken away their trackers and any object, even the smallest, that they could use to defend themselves.
—Now what do we do... —Gi-hun muttered more to himself but audible to the girl in front him.
—I think the best thing to do now would be not to die —she answered seriously, the vows had been made and unfortunately, despite Gi-hun's attempts to persuade the players to withdraw, staying had been the final decision —For now we must eat if we want to win the next game —She added holding out in front of him the food the guards were giving them, but he refused to take it, he looked so lost in his own mind that she had no choice but to sigh and sit down next to him.
—Come on, open your mouth, belly full and heart happy —Jung-bae, Gi-hun's friend sitting on his right side, spoke while holding a spoon with the egg in front of his face.
—Last time I was here, many innocent people died —Gi-hun said, looking at his friend seriously. He wanted to convince him that everything he said was true and that they should leave there as soon as possible.
—Help us then.
There was a third voice that caught the girl's attention, it was number 001, the one who had the decisive vote and preferred to stay, whoever had the blue circle was a suicidal person from her perspective.
The rest of the players surrounded them waiting for some advice or positive words from the previous winner.
The girl just listened attentively to each of them, but the most interested was 001. He asked him more concise questions and spoke confidently, as if these games were not very different from the ones they played at recess when they were little.
Something that seemed curious to her.
He felt her gaze so turned it towards her so he could look the police in the eye.
Of course he had investigated her, from the moment she searched for her boyfriend on land and sea, he wouldn't say it out loud but his brother was lucky because if it hadn't been for her him would be dead under water.
Her eyes looked at him with caution and analysis, like a cat looking at a dog with distrust but ready to scratch if the situation arose.
He found it interesting.
After the rest of the players left, 001 stayed with them to continue talking until the conversation increased in tension, Gi-hun complained to him, if he hadn't voted for the circle they would have left there.
—Fine, let's stop this conversation now, there's no point in blaming each other —Jung-bae said to avoid any upcoming fight.
—That's right, now what we have to do is be prepared for the next game —She said —We have a bit of an advantage —added, looking at Gi-hun.
—I would like to join too —said number 388 jumping out of his bed.
He introduced himself as Dae-ho and the conversation changed from the winning player to the navy and the fact that both he and Jung-bae had been members.
It seemed like they would get along well and be a good team, however, the atmosphere became tense again when the purple-haired boy with the number 230 threw player 333 to the ground, being followed by 124, who kicked him in the face.
—¿Shouldn't we tell them to stop? — Jung-bae asked.
—Yes...
Seeing that neither of the two men was going to intervene, the girl stood up and walked towards them.
—That's enough, two against one isn't fair.
—You better stay out of this —Thanos pointed at her angrily, but after looking at her closely, he let out a laugh and clapped his hands, which echoed throughout the room and caught everyone's attention —I know you, you... policegirl, you arrested me a month ago.
Now she remembered it too, of course, that snobby rapper who tried to bribe her after she caught him buying and transporting drugs but she decided to ignore him and walked to 333 to shake his hand. —Get up
Before he could accept her kind gesture, Thanos pushed her back failing to knock down.
—This is not your playground, policegirl, I can do whatever the fuck I want here.
She remained silent, still with head held high, she was not afraid of him at all, she could easily defeat him but did not have time to do or say anything when 001 intervened.
—That's no way to talk to a lady.
She could defend herself, she didn't need any man to speak for her, however, that sentence seemed quite chivalrous, Jun-ho also intervened for her from time to time and that was a gesture that inevitably made her smile.
A smile that In-ho noticed.
—Is she your girlfriend? Or do you just fuck her? —As soon as he finished the word, In-ho already had him firmly held by the hair.
124 ran towards them with the intention of helping the purple-haired boy but in the blink of an eye he was already on the ground, the girl had knocked down with a kick.
With just three blows, In-ho subdued Thanos and pinned to the ground.
She silently analyzed him again, those movements were too precise to be from someone without experience, he could have been part of the police or even the navy.
They were congratulated with applause when the 230 began to gasp for air and forgiveness. As returned to their place, they both formally introduced themselves by giving respective names, a sign of trust.
Once again In-ho confirmed what thought, she was a respectable and valuable woman, one he would like to challenge more than should have for having gotten into these games.
N/A: I wanted to make a fic with a theme like that HAHA
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bewareofthenewphannie · 22 hours ago
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sigh....please don't kill me for this
AO3 Phandom Stats - Top or Bottom?
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As many of you may have noticed there has been a shift in the depiction of Dan and Phil in fanfiction over the past few months from previously predominantly Dan being written as the bottom to now largely Phil bottoming. This post aims to put that trend into numbers and visualise it in a few overly convoluted diagrams below the cut.
Does any of this matter? Absolutely not.
Is it interesting? Oh boy, it sure is!
Disclaimer: This is an analysis of the fanfiction writing and tagging trends within the Phandom. It's at most tangentially related to the Real People Dan and Phil and is not meant to spark any type of discourse. I am doing this as an avid fanfic reader and with the utmost respect and appreciation for the authors of these fics, so I don't want to see any negativity directed towards them. Above all this is meant to be fun and interesting.
And as always - don't like it, don't read it <3
Note on accessibility: linked here is a doc with all the numbers shown in the screenshots of this post. Inspired by emma's stats I will be putting the cell range in the ID - if there's a better way to do this, please lmk!!
Methodology
To get the numbers shown here I filtered the works in the Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF) AO3 tag by "date updated" from the Jan 1st to Dec 31st of each year and by the following tags:
Bottom Dan Howell
Bottom Phil Lester
Top Dan Howell
Top Phil Lester
Short excurse on AO3 tags for those unaware:
The tags I chose are canonical tags, which means other tags that mean the same thing but are for example spelled differently are linked to this tag by tag wranglers and appear when you search for the canonical tag (see example below).
Additionally, the "bottom x" tags are metatags for the power bottom tags, which means fics tagged with "power bottom x" also appear when you filter works for these tags.
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It's important to note that not every fic where one of them tops or bottoms is tagged as such. That means these stats very specifically look at the author's choice to tag fics with these tags and not the overall amount of fics where one of them tops or bottoms. However, I would argue it's fair to assume that it's at least somewhat reflective of the general writing trends within the Phandom.
For simplicity's sake I will refer to these tags as e.g. "Bottom!Phil" (b!p) going forward.
Stats 2013 - 2024
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Here you can see how many fics were tagged with each tag in the respective year and the amount of bottom!dan and bottom!phil fics relative to the total amount of fanfic written in the same time span.
As expected, up until 2023 the split was about 2 b!d to 1 b!p fic (precise numbers: 71% to 29%; see pie chart above).
In 2018 we can see a peak in both in the number of phanfics written and the relative amount of fics tagged as bottom!dan.
Starting in 2023 (more on that below!) this flips and in 2024 the ratio of b!d to b!p fics was 1 to 4 (precise numbers: 81% to 19%; see pie chart above).
Furthermore, making up 4,62% of the total amount of phanfics written in 2024, the bottom!phil tag is relatively speaking twice as popular now as the bottom!dan tag ever was.
Sidenote: You can see that generally the amount of fics tagged with b!d and t!p, as well as b!p and t!d correspond to each other for obvious reasons (they're usually fucking each other). This year however there's 16 fics more tagged with bottom!phil than top!dan, which shows that there's been a very specific interest in writing and tagging bottom!phil in the last year.
Here you can see the total amount of phanfics written by year because I already collected the data, so I might as well put it here:
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Stats 11/2023 - 12/2024
Now I want to take a closer look at the past few months post hiatus.
You can see that there's been a steady increase in the total amount of fics written per month!
That's incredibly cool!! (Love to all the wonderful writers out there <33)
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Before we get into the actual stats, it's important to note that we're working with very low numbers here, so don't be fooled by overinterpreting percentages in the first few months depicted and look at the actual numbers! In the diagram below I excluded September and October 2023 because there simply wasn't enough data to produce useable results.
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Contrary to what I expected, the increase in fics tagged with bottom!phil does not coincide with gamingmas 2023 (pour bot hem and top bunk kind of guy), nor phil's birthday live stream (topped by kakuna) but only really starts in June 24 and spikes in August for reasons I'm not fully sure about.
If I had to pin it on one thing it'd be the precious baby angel picture, which was posted in mid August.
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Much more likely is though that this was simply a dynamic that built over months and had a wide array of reasons mentioned above and could very well be a self-reinforcing dynamic of more and more people looking for that tag and also writing for it.
If anyone has more insight on this, please share your thoughts :]
On that note, I'm finally done yapping, I hope this was at least mildly interesting!
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rockwgooglyeyes · 3 days ago
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In and of itself, Nowhere is the prophecy that Ivan has written for himself, one of self destruction. Fitting for one of the most tragic characters in this show, the one whose love was requited but who never let it be anything due to his own stubbornness and blindness. Not only that but the way that he thinks of himself, as a monster who only serves to hurt those who he loves, is something that proves not to be true, necessarily, but it proves to be true through Ivan's twisted worldview as he hurt Sua by making fun of her sacrifice and he hurt Till by kissing him at the worst possible time. This song, Ivan's first solo since Black Sorrow, echoes that in being another self-fulfilling prophecy of Ivan's, another lie that he told himself so many times that he made it come true.
The repetition of musical elements such as the lifting scale of chimes, the swing of the instrumentals, the snare and percussion being pretty much the same every time only adding to the sensation of mounting foreboding up and up, a rising action that continues to rise but never truly reaches a climax, no culmination, no conclusion until death. My friend Zen (@verdantlights) called it eerie, and I agree. The way that the song all comes together, it feels like a tragedy unfolding in front of you, over and over, one that you know will happen and yet you can do nothing to prevent. It's almost like the "tainted history" that Ivan talks of, the repetition of events again and again over time, the way that history seems to be cyclical and we, as humans, never seem to truly learn.
In certain ways, the song is about the way that the perceived reality of the world and the world's actual reality are very, very different things. Considering the line about "a stiff dream dyed in rose-colored hues" that slowly changed to a dream dyed purple, to a dream dyed black, it is the way that when we are children we are able to hope for a better future than the one we think will actually come and how as we age, we are traumatized by the world to the point where we can no longer hope for anything better. Becoming someone who dismisses hope because you've tried hoping before and you only ended up with a kick in the gut and a punch in the face, well, that's a trauma response. We are all slowly traumatized over time into believing that the world can't get better, our rose-colored dreams becoming purple until they finally fade to black, blotted out by the corruption of memory, those times when we dared to dream and we were shot down from out of the sky, our wax wings not even given the chance to melt. We are beaten down by life, over and over again, until we are simply forced to go through the routine that society demands of us and say that we are content (wake up, wake up to the usual routine & wake up, wake up to this beautiful life, is it for real?).
The worst part is that Ivan knows better (a dustlike existence can't open its eyes to look. I close my eyes). The whole reason why Ivan admires Till so much in the first place is his willingness to fight, his hope for a future without slavery for humans, his unadulterated and true love. Ivan knows what hope feels like and he knows that he just can muster it anymore, too exhausted to be anything other than apathetic (the wounds that kept reopening just became numb), but he can still love Till's vivacity and drive for change. Ivan views himself as something dirty, something broken that only serves to break others. He thinks that he's a monster who can only do the people he loves harm, and to a degree, that's true, his belief a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Ultimately though, Ivan is an immensely unreliable narrator, someone so biased against himself and towards literally anyone else but someone who is so stubborn that he is unwilling to believe anyone else's opinions on him because they have never met his "true self" only the mask that he wears that he ends up digging a deeper and deeper hole. He thinks of his story as one that's already written, the repetition of the line "this always happens to me" echoing that, especially with the way that eventually that song ends with it repeated again, "yeah, it's always like that, this always happens to me." Ivan isn't trying to fight it because his dream has long since been stained black, despite the fact that he knows that he could break out of this cycle of despair. He knows this prophecy that he is submitting to is one that he wrote himself and yet, where he stands right now? He has no will to change it.
note: My friend Ish (@chevalperd) screenshotted @/ivantill7089 (on twitter)'s english translation of this song for me, which is what I am referencing for the lyrics! I love you Ish thank you again so much :3
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oediex · 1 day ago
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I mean, I'm all for overthrowing capitalism, don't get me wrong. In fact, I am extremely interested in the connection between veganism and anti-capitalism and have an inkling that veganism might or, perhaps, ought to be inherently anti-capitalist, but this is not the place for that argument, and I haven't fully worked it out yet.
I think the end of capitalism is near, yeah, although I would like to point out that many people in the past have thought the same to be the case. They've thought the material conditions were in place for it to end. There has been civil unrest plenty in the past. What usually happened was that a new stage of capitalism developed instead.
And the question is, when the next crash comes, will you/we be able to "prepare for the opportunity to come" with this "entirety of the most amoral and deeply selfish and consumerist population on Earth"? Are they ready for a post-capitalist society? Will they help you/us create a different system that is sustainable and good for the earth? Will they welcome it? Or will they be amoral and deeply selfish and consumerist still and put in place a different system that is equally detrimental to the environment?
I'll tell you how I think capitalism will probably end. It will end when the climate fully breaks down. It's already breaking down, but it's not adequately affecting people in rich Western countries yet. But it will be Bad, and every year that passes is accelerating its arrival. I desperately want to avoid a total breakdown, I have been for about half my life now, and despite things getting worse, there is still some kind of weird sense of hope in me, that we can do it. I think animal rights activism and environmental activism has a large role to play in that. Largely because I think an overthrow of capitalism that doesn't take these movements into account will fail to address a large part of the problem.
Perhaps it's idealistic. I think your ideas are too (and I largely share them). But then I think idealism isn't necessarily a bad thing. I think it drives both of our arguments. I think idealism is the fire beneath it all. And I think such idealism doesn't rule out pragmatism and realism.
I would also like to point out that I don't live in the US, so when I talk of politics and democracy, that's not what I have in mind. I don't have much faith in politics, but my understanding of politics isn't coloured solely by the system in the US. My democracy and your democracy are both gripped in capitalism, but not to the same extent.
I'm sorry you think change is impossible for vegan activism. As a vegan activist, I see change all the time. And I will celebrate every little step towards the right direction that we make. Because whether you want it or not, an overthrow of capitalism will include a move towards a more plant-based lifestyle. Better get as many people on board as we can before we're there.
discussions about sustainability largely have to be in the realm of production, not consumption. while curbing wasteful consumption habits is important, issues of unsustainable goods can only be solved by literally producing less of them. this approach immediately resolves most issues with individualist, moral 'consumer activism' - for instance, it doesn't matter if you personally eat meat or not, but, factually, we need to significantly reduce the size of the animal agriculture industry if we want the earth to remain habitable. whenever you discuss this, a million scratched satisfascists start acting as though we intend to just take away their treats and replace them with nothing - as if the removal of personal automobiles doesn't go hand in hand with the redesigning of cities around walking and public transit, as if the removal of one method of production doesn't mean its replacement by another. the two main errors here, of the treatlerites, and of those who forget that socialism is supported by the people only because it improves their real conditions, should both be avoided.
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ziorre · 8 hours ago
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✨Commission info✨
New year, new art pieces! I'm ready, I'm rested, I'm refreshed! And I'm completely charged to take care of your new ideas and characters!! I truly believe that every character is awesome and original and deserves to be shown with their own story! And I'll try to help you with this in a way that is more convenient for you! You just pick one below ;)
✨ PRICES:
- SEMI-REALISTIC STYLE (for the cases, when you want it looks more real without much stylizing)
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- USUAL STYLE (for the cases, when you don’t mind it looks more stylized and a lil sketchy)
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- CONCEPT SHEET (for the cases, when you want to present your character, their outfit and props)
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* you can find more examples on my page by the commission tag ** a helpful post describing a right order for your refs
✨ DEADLINES: After you DM me with a brief description of your idea, I’ll tell you the approximate date when I’ll be able to proceed with your commission
!!!!Always warn me in advance if I need to draw art by a certain deadline!!!
✨ PAYMENT:  What: USD or RUB When: full pre-payment (when you sent me the email and we approved the art idea) Where: Hypolink/Lava.top (russian platforms, support payment via PayPal)
✨ PROCESS: You write to me in private messages on Tumblr, briefly tell me your idea of our future art, what style and what slot you want (full body / half body / bust). Then I give you my email address and you send me an email (with your Tumblr name as the topic please) with all necessary references (your character's face claim, their pose, clothes, background etc.). You describe the idea of the art in details, where it takes place, and other things that I need to know so that I can base the sketch on all that info, because after you approve the sketch, I don’t change art much in the further stages of the work, just some details. I send you the payment link on my Boosty page. Send you the sketch. After you confirm that you like the sketch, I finish the work and send it on your email😊
✨ OTHER: - I don’t correct the art after you approved the finished version. - I don’t copy other artist’s work. - I publish every commission on my social media, if you don’t want it to be published, just let me know. - If you’re not sure about the art idea, I can suggest you 4 sketches with different poses/concepts/angles for extra $20 and you pick the one you like the most. - For significant corrections or a lot of small ones at any stage of work, an additional fee may be charged (this doesn’t apply to some small adjustments or details witch I missed). There are 3 free changes at the each stages of the work (sketch, finished version), further - $2-$5.
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And of course I can't skip to say a huge thank you to those who commissioned and continue commissioning art from me! It means a lot! For real! This is not only material support, but also moral one, saying that I’m not wasting my time and energy in vain, that I’m moving in the right direction, that people like what I do! I can't tell how inspiring it is!! 350 commissions! I’ve never imagined that one day I would draw so many art for others! Just.. wow!! Thank you again so much for trusting me bringing to life your ideas! I truly appreciate it!😌
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I think this is it, right? If you have any questions, feel free to DM me ;)  
I’ll be VERY grateful for your reblogs!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤ (and thank you very much for this in advance, it helps me A LOOOOOOOOOT, you are the ones who keep me alive literally! I see each and every one of you doing that! You’re the best!!!) Thanks for your attention! Have a good day =)
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vampyastro · 1 day ago
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✧𝕬𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔 𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘✧
~𝖕𝖙 𝟜~
Things I say may not resonate with you as everyone’s birth chart is very different and impacts them in different ways. I am not a professional astrologer, these are just some observations I’ve made over the years dealing with different placements. Hope you enjoy!
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✩ Gemini moons are full of contradictions! They tend to always contradict what they say because their minds can be so crowded and overwhelmed. They also like to learn many things and their tendency to overthink/the multiple different perspectives they see can lead them to change their minds often. However, this isn’t always a bad thing because it allows them to be very open minded and always willing to listen to others ideas.
✩ When a Scorpio mars gets mad, it can feel as though all hell might break loose. The anger these natives bottle up inside of them and eventually release can be very scary.
✩ Having Libra and Cancer placements can make natives the biggest people pleasers and it can be very distressing for them. Saying ‘no’ isn’t going to end the world and it won’t make people hate you, I promise. You are more than enough! Have a bit more confidence in yourself, people are very drawn to your loving nature and there is so much good in your heart. Don’t let yourself get taken advantage of when people try to prey on your weakness, you’re better than that.
✩ Leo Venus nativesmay love theater and art. They like to express themselves and they shine while doing so! Their passion is radiant and they have beautiful souls. They are capable of so much love and they channel that into their art.
✩ Cancer mars can be a difficult placement to have. They feel emotions very deeply and intensely. They have a tendency to be natural caregivers; very empathetic souls. This can cause them to be in fear of hurting other peoples feelings and have their emotions bottled up until one day it all pours out. This can be very cathartic for them but also distressing. Strong feelings of jealousy and yearning can be seen with this placement. To all the cancer mars out there, just know we appreciate how tender your nature is! Don’t be so scared of things, you will be fine! (Side note, cancer mars reminds me a lot of mitski songs)
✩ Pluto in the second house can have deep self esteem issues. They may place their worth on their possessions as they feel they aren’t enough and due to the transformation powers of this placement, their income may be unstable. This leads an internal struggle between trying to fulfill the soul and placing less worth on what they have around them.
✩ Prominent virgo placements can sometimes be super overbearing. These people may need to double check everything and have a hard time relaxing. They can struggle with anxiety and can have control issues. In turn this can also make the native unhealthily retreat into their own minds as an escape from what they feel is chaos. Virgos, you’re doing great. Sometimes it’s good to take a deep breath and live in the moment.
✩ Aquarius placements (especially Sun and Venus) as well as Cancer placements are very good gift givers. Aquarius placements always come up with creative ideas that the person receiving usually loves! On the other hand, cancer placements value sentimental gifts. They may look for something that will touch you emotionally or it may be something they would cherish if they were the one receiving the gift.
✩ Capricorn risings really like to take the initiative! They can be the one in group projects to assign everyone roles and make outlines for the group. They like to seem responsible and dependable and they very much are!
𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰! *:・゚✧
𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓝𝓮𝔀 𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 ♡
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justagalwhowrites · 3 days ago
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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 6: Justice
A friend visits as Joel reckons with his feelings. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 5 found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
CW: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.
Length: 8.3k
A/N: Please be aware that we see Joel's suicide attempt at the start of this chapter and really get into his headspace just after Sarah dies. It's rough. If you aren't feeling up for it, jump to the second italicized date in this chapter.
Take care of yourselves! Love you!
Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter
October 5, 2019 
The decision had been an easy one. 
Almost shamefully so, really. 
It had been surreal, watching the casket that held his daughter’s body be lowered into the ground. He’d half expected it to be raining even though the forecast didn’t call for it. It just didn’t make sense for the sun to be shining the day he buried his child. 
Everyone he’d ever met was there, it seemed. All of Sarah’s classmates, too. So many people came to pay their respects for his baby girl. Like it made a damn difference now. So many people he had to thank for their sorrow, so many people who said they wanted to help but couldn’t because how could you help something like this? 
He decided before the first shovelful of dirt was on her casket. It was a relief, in a way. It was all finite. This pain that had all but devoured him in the last week was going to end and he was never going to have to wake up in a world without his daughter again. 
“Sure you’ll be alright?” Tommy asked, hands awkwardly stuffed in his pockets as he hovered in Joel’s entryway, the one button down shirt he owned already open at the collar, tie loosened. 
“Yeah,” Joel said. It wasn’t even a lie. He would be alright. Soon, he’d be alright. 
“I can stay,” Tommy said. “I’ll just go by my place, get a few things…” 
“Don’t need to,” Joel said. 
“Joel.” 
“Go home, Tommy.” 
His brother watched him for a moment, jaw clenched, eyes going over his face again and again. 
“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid if I leave you here alone,” Tommy said, his eyes stuck on Joel’s. 
“Not gonna do anything stupid,” Joel said. That wasn’t a lie, either. It wasn’t stupid, it was the only smart thing he could fucking do. 
Tommy watched him for another moment. 
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?” 
That, however, would be a lie. Joel clenched his jaw. 
“Joel,” Tommy said. “I will see you tomorrow, right?” 
“Yeah,” Joel said. “You know where to find me.” 
“Alright,” Tommy said, hesitantly, before pulling Joel in for a hug, clapping him on the back. “I know it… it’s awful, man. It is. But you’ll get through it.” 
“Yeah,” Joel said. 
“I love you, brother,” Tommy said, holding him close for a second. 
For the first time since he’d decided, Joel felt a twinge in his chest. Something akin to fear or regret or apology, something that made it feel like leaving his baby brother was the wrong thing to do. He just didn’t really care.
“Love you, too,” Joel said, voice thick. 
He watched the front door for a minute after Tommy left, his hands in his pockets in his oddly silent house. 
He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whisky, staring at the mug Sarah had left by the sink the last day she was alive. He couldn’t bring himself to clean or even move it and it was going moldy, rot already claiming the parts of her that were still here. He drank the whisky. 
Joel considered writing a note but decided not to. What else was there to say? Every word he had died with her. And it wasn’t like there was anyone to fight over what little he had to his name. Just a small life insurance policy that may not even pay out and the equity he had in the house he’d bought so his daughter had roots. Tommy could handle it. He’d proven, over the last week, that he was more capable than Joel had given him credit for. 
He went to Sarah’s room. It was still in a state of teenaged disarray - he hadn’t been able to do anything about that, either - with a diorama she was building for her history class on her desk and her comforter shoved down toward the foot of her bed. She kicked it off in her sleep, she always got warm in her sleep. She was cold now. 
Joel took it all in, committing it to memory. He looked at all the posters - the pop star in the middle of a dance move and the movie star staring out at nothing - and ran his fingers over the spines of the books. He even picked up the teddy bear on her dresser, small and pink with worn fur. He ran his thumb over the bear’s face, remembered tucking it next to his daughter when she was a newborn. Tommy had brought it for her when he came to the hospital to meet his niece for the first time. 
“Figured, it’s pink,” he’d said then. “Girls like pink.” 
“Don’t think she’s old enough to like anything yet,” Joel said, not looking at his brother, too busy watching the tiny bundle that was now his whole world. 
“She will,” Tommy said. “Once she figures it out. She’ll be the best little girl in the whole world.” 
Tommy was right on both counts. She had loved pink. She had been the best little girl in the whole world. 
He couldn’t handle being there very long. The room was already starting to smell different, less like Sarah herself and more like her body spray and hair serums and detergent. She was already fading from the place that had been hers and he couldn’t bear to know the world was moving on without her. 
When it felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, he left, closing the door softly behind him, going over the space again and again in his mind. He went to his room, to the gun safe in his nightstand drawer. 
Joel didn’t really like guns. But he wanted to have it, it felt smart, what with just him and his daughter in the house. He needed to have a way to protect her if he needed to because, when it came down to it, that was his purpose. He was supposed to protect his daughter. Protect her, raise her, teach her to be smart and sweet and strong, watch her grow to become something so much better than him. But he’d failed at that. The gun only had one use now. 
Joel had considered this part carefully, going over options in his mind while people told him how sorry they were that the only thing that mattered in the world was gone. 
Tommy would be the one to find him, he reasoned. No one else had keys, no one else would care enough to come looking. He wanted to be surrounded by Sarah but he couldn’t bring himself to do it in her room, it seemed wrong to have violence touch her space. He’d considered the entryway but that seemed cruel, a shock like that for Tommy when he first opened the door. Outside by the pool would be too loud, some nosy neighbor calling the cops and with that was a risk - maybe a small one but a risk all the same - of someone getting there fast enough to save him and he didn’t want that. His bedroom would be comforting but getting blood out of the carpet… he wanted Tommy to be able to sell the house, set himself up for some success in life. So, he’d decided on his bathroom. Easy to clean up, plenty of walls between him and the neighbors, away from the sacred space that still belonged to Sarah. 
That’s where he stood, in the shower he’d tiled years ago over a long weekend. Sarah had been about eight, she’d wanted to help. He’d smear on the adhesive and she would pass him a tile and he’d put it in its place and they would do it all again, her never seeming bored with it. She was perfectly content to be next to him, listening to classic rock on the radio, making something with her dad. 
The gun was weighty in his hand but that was a comfort. There was nothing left here for him. He was done, ready to move on to whatever there was beyond this life - if anything at all. He didn’t much care if there was. All he wanted was an end to this pain, this suffocating agony that had consumed his entire being since he’d lost his daughter. All he wanted was to go with her into the cold ground. That’s where he belonged, next to her. He’d let them put her under alone, let her go ahead of him into that dark earth. It wasn’t right. He was going to fix it. 
He took a deep breath, oddly aware of his lungs, the beat of his heart. It wasn’t racing the way he thought it might be. In his final moments, he was calm. Sure. 
He pressed the gun to his temple and closed his eyes. He pictured Sarah. He pictured her laughing and smiling, he pictured the pleading look on her face the last morning of her life. He pictured how happy she’d been when he’d told her she could go to the party, when he’d unknowingly sent her to her death. 
“I’m coming, baby girl,” he said quietly. “See you soon.” 
He took one final breath and pulled the trigger. 
There was a moment, one that had to be only a fraction of a second but seemed to last a small lifetime, that he saw everything. Every moment of his life with his daughter - her first steps, her beaming on Christmas morning, her riding her first bike, her rolling her eyes when they were in a fight - and every moment with his brother, his own father, the guys on his crew at work. All these moments that made up a life, all these things that made it seem like continuing on was somehow worth it. 
He flinched. 
November, 2024 
It wasn’t the guy. 
In the week since you and Joel had returned from California, he’d been off duty. Or, at least, at home and answering questions for police and Tommy as the authorities investigated whether or not the man who’d hurt you was your stalker. 
He wasn’t. 
When the police started investigating, they quickly discovered that he was new to Los Angeles. He’d been in another state entirely on days your stalker had clearly seen you. The man - Joseph Wilson - was just another rabid fan, one who took his adoration of you a step too far at the premier. 
He’d bailed himself out but had to stay in Los Angeles, the police keeping tabs on him so he was controlled but that didn’t make Joel feel much better. He knew how little the cops actually did in situations like this. The guy may not be able to board a plane but he could just jump in a car and get on the road - something he was clearly obsessive enough to do - and be in Texas in a matter of days. With how often the police checked in, they may not even get any advanced warning, either. 
Mostly, it made Joel uneasy. You were still under threat. Worse, he was away from you while you were under threat. He couldn’t keep you safe from his house across town, he had to sit there and rely on Seth to do the job.
But there was a part of him that was relieved, too. You still being under threat meant that there was still a use for him. He had a reason to be next to you and Ellie, to move through the world with you and make sure you were both safe. You clearly needed someone to do that job, stalker or no, and just the passing thought of you with nothing between you and the violent things that seemed to be drawn to you in some way turned his stomach. He was happy to not need to reckon with disentangling himself from you yet - even if that meant it would be harder when the time came. 
Still, he wondered if you’d told Tommy about the incident with the watch. His brother had insisted that he take the full week, even after Joel pushed to come back early when the police confirmed that Wilson wasn’t who’d been sending you the letters. 
“It’s better if it’s me,” Joel said, standing in Tommy’s office with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I know the job best now and…” 
“And we need you sharp,” Tommy said, barely glancing up from his computer. “Can’t have you working yourself into the ground. Take the week, rest up, come back refreshed and ready.” 
He hoped you hadn’t said anything. He’d deserve it if you had, he wasn’t proud of the way he’d behaved that day in your driveway. 
But he was already trying to get some distance, desperate for things to be somehow easier when he had to leave, his whole body already tense when thinking about anything - anything at all - happening to you and you handed him that watch. That fucking watch, the one that sat open in the red box on his nightstand, the one you’d given him as a gesture of kindness that he wasn’t due. It glared at him, the intact face shining in the lamplight as the cracked one lay next to it before he went to sleep. 
The other watch had been a gift from Sarah - Father’s Day when she was 12. She’d had an independent streak that year and did chores for the next door neighbors a few times to save up before asking her uncle to take her shopping for it. It wasn’t anything fancy - utilitarian and clean with a green fabric strap and a black face - but Joel had loved it. She’d been so proud of herself for buying it, she beamed every time he put it on. She’d even gotten it fixed for him a year before she died because he just hadn’t found the time to do it. He wore it every day. He’d worn it the day she died, the face cracking when he threw himself against the car window, desperate to break through the glass and get to her. Desperate to save her and failing, always failing. 
You gave him a watch to replace that one in much the same way you’d replaced the absence of feeling that had taken over his being when she died. 
That terrified him. He hadn’t even been aware of how numb he’d become, not really, not until he wasn’t anymore. The world was a cold and dark place, something that hurt too much to endure if he sat in it a little too long so he just didn’t. What was the point? He’d tried to fix it, tried to realize that his time was up - how could it not be, the reality of her loss being what it was - but he’d failed at that, too. Now, he was just biding his time. 
Or he was until you showed up. 
Things hurt again, scared him again. It all seemed too big to contend with. It reminded him, a little, of when he was a teenager, when he first started really waking up to life outside the nucleus of his mom and dad and little brother. The first time he fell in love with a girl, the first time he got passed over on the football team, the first time one of his friends stabbed him in the back. It had all seemed like the most important thing to have ever happened, the depth of feeling broad and new. 
Everything since you’d come into his life was like that. He was a professional, he’d dealt with aggressive people before but none of them scared him the way Wilson had. He’d tried to make a kid smile before but none the way he wanted to make Ellie smile. He’d wanted to fuck a woman before but none of them the way he wanted to fuck you.
What was he supposed to do with any of that? It all felt too volatile and dangerous, the threat lurking beneath it all far greater than it had ever been before. It made every decision he made feel strangely consequential, his body constantly tense and waiting for some unseen force to destroy you both. 
It was a feeling he couldn’t shake in his week away from you. One that was made worse by the fact that the fucking paparazzi had been told that you’d moved to Texas and were adopting Ellie. 
Joel got wind of it from Tommy only 10 minutes before the rest of the world did, just a phone call to tell him that the veil of protection you’d had here was now gone. 
“Nothin’ much we can really do about it,” Tommy said. Joel could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose through the phone. “They don’t got her address yet but they know Ellie’s school so we got a team setting up a perimeter there until this dies down, new pick up and drop off routine starting now…” 
“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re sure you don’t want me to…” 
“Joel,” Tommy cut him off. “I know you’re bad at sitting on your hands for five minutes but you were on for weeks including an incident where your charge was injured. I can’t bring you back until you’ve actually gotten some rest, it ain’t safe. Just… I dunno, read a fucking book or something. You’ll be back to it in a few days, I’ll keep you updated otherwise.” 
Tommy sent Joel all the updates that morning, giving Joel a few hours to prep before he was set to go pick up Ellie and start his turn in the rotation of looking after you both again. 
There were changes, ones he was surprised you’d agreed to. No more grocery store runs, at least not while people were on high alert and looking for you and liable to follow you home. No more taking the same route every day to and from Ellie’s school. No more leaving the variable compound that was your home without good reason, every outing just another opportunity for someone to recognize you and tip off your stalker to your more precise location. 
Joel knew you’d hate these changes, the loss of the freedoms you’d clung to so hard here. There were notes in the file that they could be temporary adjustments, once things died down about your relocation and people weren’t watching for you anymore but he doubted that made much difference to you. The loss was still a loss. 
He went to pick up Ellie that afternoon, following the new procedure the school put into place to protect her and the other students, surrendering his ID to the rentacop guards at the gate to the school before he could pull into the drive to the front door. Ellie had to wait inside until he came to get her, something that he could tell she resented from the look on her face before he was even in the door. 
“Well would you look who it is,” she said, getting up and throwing her backpack over her shoulder. 
“You causin’ trouble?” Joel asked, brows raised. 
“No more than usual,” she said. 
“So, plenty?” Joel said. She gave him a look and he laughed a little. “Alright, kid, let’s go.” 
Joel kept a hand on her on the walk to the car and she flung her bag into the back seat of his truck as she climbed in front. 
“Should duck down,” he said, looking past the fence. There wasn’t a hoard of paparazzi, at least. “Just to be safe.” 
“So stupid,” she muttered but obeyed, doubling over in her seat until they were to the end of the street and looking back over her shoulder when she sat up again before settling in and looking Joel over. 
“What,” he asked glancing her way. 
“Nothin’,” she said. “Just haven’t seen you in a while. Think you have more wrinkles and shit.” 
Joel just scoffed. 
“And you haven’t gotten any taller,” he said. “Still a runt.” 
“Hey!” 
“What’ve you been up to, kiddo?” He asked, glancing over to her. 
“Oh, you know,” she shrugged. “School bullshit. Had to get trained on how to dodge the paparazzi by Seth and he can’t even win at COD so you left me in great hands here, Big Miller…”
“Glad to know the benchmark is a video game,” he said. “You seen any trouble from those photographer assholes?”  
“No,” she said and he could hear the roll of her eyes. “It’s all bullshit.” 
“The threat ain’t bullshit, kid,” Joel said, sterner than he meant to. “Wish it was.” 
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Me too.” 
Ellie told him some of what she’d gotten up to in the weeks it’d been since he’d seen her, the good grades she’d gotten and the asshole kid she’d put in his place. Joel just nodded along, trying not to think about the fact that there was some part of him that loved being someone she could talk to freely and openly. 
It was a pleasant distraction from what he knew would be a shit conversation once he saw you again. He’d have to say something about the watch and everything he’d said when you gave it to him. He just didn’t know what. He was dreading that, dreading it enough that the fancy pickup truck parked at your gate was a relief for a moment because it meant he had a reprieve. Then, his instincts kicked in. 
“Stay put, get down,” Joel ordered Ellie, throwing the truck into park. “Don’t get out, you hear me?” 
He didn’t wait for a response, just jumping out, his gun drawn as he ran up alongside the other - far nicer, newer - truck. 
“No, you don’t understand,” a man with a thick drawl said, standing at the intercom at your gate with his hands on his hips and a Stetson on his head. “I’m a friend of… look, she home? Just go ask her if she…” 
“I’m not about to tell a strange man whether or not my employer is at home!” Esmo said through the intercom. “I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave, you’d better go before…” 
“Hands up!” Joel barked, gun up an pointed at the man. 
He jumped, turning to face Joel, his eyes wide as he obeyed. 
“Woah!” He said, looking Joel up and down, his hands still up. “Take it easy, I swear I ain’t…” 
“Not about to take orders from you,” Joel said, stepping closer, gun still trained on the man’s chest. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doin’ here?” 
“Could ask you the same damn thing,” he replied. “Can you put the damn gun down?” 
“I’m personal protection,” Joel said. “I’m doin’ my job which, right now, means keeping you on the business end of my gun. Keep your fuckin’ hands up, gonna check you over.” 
Joel stepped in closer, tightening the grip on the gun with one hand and using the other to quickly pat the man down. He didn’t have anything on him that Joel could find easily, just wallet, phone and keys to the King Ranch F-250 that didn’t seem like had seen a day of work in its young life. 
“Alright,” Joel said, stepping back and lowering the gun slowly but keeping it drawn. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here.” 
Before the man had a chance to answer, Joel heard a door slam and then Ellie was doing exactly what he told her not to do. 
Joel tried to correct for it, looking quickly back over his shoulder to see where she was coming from, trying to cover her, but she ignored that, too. 
“Get back in the damn truck!” He snapped at her but she just careened around him, running for the other man. Joel raised the gun again, getting ready to shoot a stranger who may not even deserve it, but Ellie got in the way. 
“Justice!” She shrieked, launching herself at the man and he caught her out of the air with a grunt, lowering his arms for the first time since Joel had pulled his gun. “I missed you! Where the fuck have you been?” 
“Hey kiddo!” He laughed, holding her off the ground so she was level with his face. “Missed you, too. I’ve been a little busy lately, doin’ that whole tour thing. The hell have you been up to? Given all these here Texans a run for their money?” 
“Duh,” she said and he set her down before hiking up his jeans. “What are you doing here?” 
“Came to see you, you little trouble maker,” he said. “And check on your aunt while I was here, I suppose…” 
“I guess,” Ellie said in a mockingly long-suffering way. 
“Think you can get uh…” he jerked his chin toward Joel, giving him a furtive glance. “Rambo there to put the gun away and convince the gal inside that I’m not some security threat?” 
“Sure,” she laughed, looking to Joel. “You can put the gun down, this is just Justice, he’s cool.” 
Joel clenched his jaw for a moment before putting his gun away and relaxing a little. The other man seemed to take it as permission to step forward, holding his hand toward Joel with a too perfect smile. 
“Justice James,” he said. “Good to meet you.” 
Joel realized then that he recognized this guy. He was some country music superstar, the kind that Joel felt like was ruining country music and would make Johnny Cash turn in his grave. 
He just grunted, going to the intercom. 
“Esmo,” he said. “Big Miller, at the gate. Trouble is secure.” 
There was a moment of silence before she responded. 
“Are you letting that strange man up here?” She asked. 
“He’s not that strange!” Ellie yelled and Joel gave her a look over his shoulder. “What? He’s not!” 
“Yeah,” Joel said. “It’s under control.” 
Joel keyed in the gate code and looked to Justice.
“Drive up but stick by your truck when you get up there,” he said. “Trouble, you’re with me.” 
“Come on, seriously?” Ellie stomped her foot. 
“Don’t wanna hear it, kid,” he replied. “My truck, move it.” 
“Fine,” she huffed before looking to Justice. “See you in a minute, apparently.” 
Justice just laughed. 
“See you in a sec, kiddo.” 
The man drove slow up to your front door, Joel following close behind, sorely temped to try to scratch the paint off the back of this ostentatious truck with his own, beat down Ford from the 80s just on principle. 
But he didn’t. Instead, he just parked right behind the hulking, shiny rig, Ellie jumping out immediately and Esmo stepping to the drive, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes narrowed. Ellie didn’t seem to notice, beelining for Justice again. 
“It’s been so crazy!” She was saying as Joel got close enough to hear her. “There were these photographers at my school and shit, like people think I’m famous now, it’s so weird but also kind of cool and…” 
“Ellie,” Esmo cut her off. “Inside.” 
“But,” she protested. 
“Now,” Esmo cut her off. “I’m certain Mr. Miller agrees with me.” 
“Inside, Ellie,” Joel said. 
She looked to Justice and he chuckled a little before nodding. 
“Head on in, kid,” he said. “See you in a few.” 
The three of them watched Ellie go inside, Esmo moving to block the door, her eyes narrowing at the newcomer. He tipped his hat to her almost comically. 
“Ma’am,” he said. “Guessin’ you’re the one who was reading me the riot act over the intercom.” 
“I’m not going to just let a stranger into the house,” Esmo said, chin out. “Not after a man…” 
“Broke her wrist,” Justice nodded. “I know. Don’t blame you for bein’ protective. Appreciate it, honestly. But promise, I’m no threat. If she’s home…” 
“She’s not,” Esmo said. “But when she gets home, I’ll…” 
The sound of an engine interrupted her and Joel’s hand automatically went to his gun, ready to deal with whatever else was going to get thrown at him in his first hour back on the fucking job but it was just you, Seth at your back. 
“There a party no one told me about?” You asked, brows raised, barely looking at Joel. 
He didn’t respond, shifting to be between you and the unknown element that was Justice when the man turned to face you, an almost cocky smile on his face. 
“Hey shug,” he said and Joel watched as your face lit up in a way that made his stomach clench. 
“Justice!” You yelled in much the same way Ellie had and ran for him that way, too, more colliding with him than hugging him, making him stumble back as he laughed, his arms going around you and holding you tight. “What the hell are you doing here! Aren’t you supposed to be playing in Dallas tomorrow?” 
“Close enough,” he said, giving you a squeeze before stepping back from you. “Couldn’t come to Texas and not see my best girl now could I?” He took your injured arm in his hands and turned it gently. “How you feeling?” 
“Fine,” you waved him off with your uninjured arm. “It’s really not a big a deal as everyone is making it out to be…” 
“Someone broke your wrist, honey,” he said, running his thumb over your wrist. 
You shrugged.
“I’ve had worse.” 
He glared at you and you took your wrist back, still smiling all broad and warm and Joel didn’t like it, not one bit. 
“Want to see the new place?” You asked. “You’d approve of the set up, lots of room for horses and shit.” 
“Horses, eh?” He asked. “You actually got any, Hollywood?” 
You scoffed. 
“Like I would dream of buying livestock without your approval.” You looked past Joel like he wasn’t even there. “Esmo, would you mind showing Justice inside and getting him something to drink? I just need to grab my things, I’ll be in in a second.” 
“Of course ma’am,” she said, leading your friend inside as you turned without even a glance toward Joel, going back to your car. He and Seth followed and you grabbed a duffle from the trunk as Seth called headquarters. 
“This is Cook,” Seth said. “Transferring custody of Siren to Big Miller.” 
“Thanks for everything, Seth,” you smiled at him, reaching out and giving his arm a squeeze. “Tell your wife I say hi. And tell her thanks for letting us have you the last week.” 
“She likes having me out of her hair now and then,” he said with a wink before clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Have fun holding down the fort, see you in a few weeks.” 
You stood next to him and watched Seth leave before turning and heading inside without a word. Joel clenched his jaw and followed, trying to brace himself for the conversation that had been hanging over him for days. 
“Siren…” 
You turned to face him, brows raised. 
“Yes.” 
He took a deep breath. 
“I… I should…” 
“I don’t really care, Joel,” you cut him off. Your eyes flitted to his wrist, where the broken watch sat. “You made it perfectly clear. We are not friends. I pay you, you protect me. We don’t need to talk about it.” 
You didn’t give him a chance to respond, just going inside to find your friend. 
***
“And how is Adam doing?” You asked Justice, sitting next to him on your bed, safely behind closed doors. 
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” he said and you could almost hear him glaring at you. 
“I do want the answer!” You said, turning your head so you could actually see him. “Why wouldn’t I want the answer.” 
“Because you don’t like him,” he said, turning his head so he could look at you, too. “I know you don’t like him.” 
“When have I said I don’t like your boyfriend?” You asked, brows raised. 
“You don’t need to say it, I can tell,” he replied. “You forget I know you as well as I do and you don’t like him.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him a little and he looked back, smug. 
“I just think…” 
“Told you.” 
“Shut up!” You elbowed him lightly and he laughed. “I’m just looking out for you, OK? I’m not a fan of seeing you get your heart stomped on…” 
“That’s reassuring.” 
“…and this guy seems like the heart stomping type,” you continued. “That’s all I’m saying.” 
“Because you’re such a great judge of men all of a sudden?” He asked. 
“Well that’s just rude,” you said and you both laughed before you sighed. “I missed you.” 
He smiled. 
“I missed you, too.” 
You snuggled closer to him and he held you and you let yourself relax for the first time in what felt like forever. 
It shouldn’t have surprised you, Justice turning up when he did. Beyond Anna, he was the person you were closest to. The three of you had practically lived together for a while when you and Justice were just starting on Siren. 
You and Justice had hit it off immediately, becoming fast friends before even day one on set. You were both young, just 21, both loved acting and music. He was kind in a sweeter, more genuine way than you were used to with men, lacking all the undertones you’d come to expect from the opposite sex that any kindness was just a bill to be paid with your body. 
It didn’t take long to figure out why it was different. You were only halfway through season one when your characters acted on the sexual tension that had been building between them as rival recording artists, the two of you kissing passionately, Justice’s character - Trace - backing yours into the spongey walls of a recording studio and pulling her leg over his hip, rutting against her with no tell-tale sign of a hard on in his jeans. 
He had a funny look on his face when the director yelled cut, his eyes a little wide as they searched your face. 
“Are you OK?” You’d asked, laughing a little. 
“Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “Just… be in my trailer.” 
He left without another word as everyone else got reset to do another take. You sat in the chair with your name on the back, drinking a bottle of water and chewing spearmint gum so your breath wasn’t awful when you had to kiss your friend again. 
“Can we get set?” The director yelled after a while, sounding exasperated. “Please? Where the hell is Justice?” 
“Hold on,” you said, hopping down from your seat as you passed your water off to a production assistant. “I’ll get him, two minutes!” 
You jogged to his trailer, knocking quickly. 
“Yeah,” he called, his voice wet. 
“You alright?” You frowned. 
“Yeah, uh…” he sniffed, hard enough that you could hear it through the door. “Yeah, I’ll…” 
“I’m coming in,” you said, not giving him a chance to protest and just opening the door. 
You found him sitting on the floor, his elbows on his knees, head hung low. 
“Justice?” You asked, closing the door behind you and locking it before getting on the floor next to him. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” 
You put a hand on his back but he pulled away from you for a moment before he leaned into your touch, crying. You’d never really seen a man cry before - at least outside of work. You weren’t really sure what to do about it. 
“It’s OK,” you said after a moment. “Whatever it is… Did I do something? I know this is your first job and if I pushed too far in that scene, I’m sorry, I can…” 
“No,” he shook his head, sitting up and drying his eyes. “No it…” he laughed once, twisting a little to face you. “It ain’t that. You were good. Are good. That’s… that’s the problem.” 
You frowned. 
“I don’t…” 
“You kissed me,” he said, voice trailing off for a moment. “You kissed me and I didn’t feel anything.” 
You looked at him, waiting for the part that was supposed to be a problem. 
“OK?” You laughed eventually. “That’s fine! Great, actually, because - and no offense, you’re a good looking guy and all but - I have no interest in you like that and…” 
“No,” he shook his head, stretching his legs out on the floor in front of him and slumping back against the wall. He took a deep breath. “It’s not… I’ve never been interested in any woman. Ever. And I guess I… I thought… I thought I would, you know, eventually… I thought I was just a late bloomer or some shit and it would happen for me and if… if I could do a scene like that with you… You’re so beautiful and we’re friends but I still didn’t feel anything and… I thought I’d feel something. Anything. But I… I didn’t. I didn’t feel a goddamn thing and if I can’t feel somethin’ with you… I…” 
He got choked up again, looking at the ground. 
“Justice,” you said softly, reaching out and covering his hand with your own. 
“I think I’m gay,” he said, more to himself than to you.  
You just held him for a while. It took the two of you some time to get back to set so you texted a PA and said Justice wasn’t feeling well but you’d be back soon. You did a few more takes of the scene, sticking close to him when it ended, his fingers firmly laced with yours between every take. He came over to your house that night and the two of you talked for hours. He told you everything, how he’d always felt about boys the way he thought he was supposed to feel about girls, how he hoped that one day, he’d just meet the right girl and that it would all be OK, how he thought he’d surely feel something when kissing you on set that day. How his parents would never accept him. How he saw any hope he had for a career vanish before his eyes. 
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He asked once the pair of you were a few bottles of beer deep. 
“I dunno,” you said. “But I don’t think you need to figure it out right now.You can take your time. And I know we’ve only been friends a few months but whatever you need? I’m here for you, OK?” 
He looked at you, his green eyes soft and kind. 
“OK.” 
You were the only one who knew for a while. Then Anna, then a handful of others. When Justice hit it big in country music - just like he’d always dreamed - the two of you pretended to date for a while. You did again when you were worried about some parts of your personal history coming to light that you weren’t particularly proud of. And then, when Anna died, he stayed with you and Ellie for a few weeks, just helping both of you get adjusted to the way life was now. Of course he would just show up when things went sideways. It’s what you would do, if you were in his position. 
You’d given him the grand tour and he liked your house and the property you’d found in Texas, getting excited about the amount of real estate available for things like horses. Esmo warmed up to him fast after a prickly introduction and made fajitas and guacamole for everyone, the food smelling good enough that even Joel emerged from his room to eat. 
“Which guest room would you like me to make up for Mr. James before I leave?” Esmo asked during dinner. 
“Oh I don’t wanna put anybody out,” Justice said, waving her off. 
“It is no trouble,” Esmo assured him. 
“Well, ma’am, also mean to say, don’t think I’d use that room anyway,” Justice said, giving you a wink. “Would I, shug?” 
“You never have before,” you smirked a little at him and you caught a glimpse of Joel grinding his teeth as you looked back toward Esmo. “No point in pretending, he’ll just stay in my room. But thank you, Esmo, for the offer.” 
Joel stalked back to his room not long after and you, Ellie and Justice sat around the fire pit that had gone unused in your backyard, Justice teaching Ellie how to play guitar and you just finding a sense of peace and stability in their presence. 
“Think I can come stay for a while after my tour wraps up?” He asked Ellie as she tried to hide her yawns in the flickering firelight. “See if I can’t talk your aunt here into gettin’ some horses for this damn ranch?” 
“Fuck yeah!” Ellie said. “And we can play guitar and maybe next time you can bring me on tour, too, and…” 
“Alright, let’s plan your future as a superstar later,” you cut her off. “Time for bed, kiddo.” 
“Fine,” she sighed dramatically, going to hug Justice. “Good to see you.” 
“You too,” he gave her a squeeze and watched her head inside before the two of you put out the fire and went to your room where you could really, properly talk. 
He caught you up on his life - the tour, the stress of dating someone in secret, writing his next album - and asked you about yours. You sipped whisky and told him about the run in with Henry in LA and how the threat of the stalker had felt more real since the premier. He held your broken wrist in his large hand, an odd look on his face as he did. 
“Try not to go scarin’ me like that again, hear me?” He said, giving you your hand back. “I was in fuckin’ Australia, watching you get hurt on the news. Gonna put me in the ground early.” 
“Well if it bothers you then I guess I’ll avoid it in the future,” you teased, taking a sip of the liquor. He glared at you and you smiled a little. 
“Can I ask the awkward question?” He asked. 
“When has a question being awkward ever stopped you.” 
He ignored you. 
“What’s goin’ on with that bodyguard of yours,” he said. 
“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, grip on the glass tightening. 
“Yes you do,” he said. “Seemed like I could cut the tension between you two with a fuckin’ knife. What happened there?” 
You sighed, turning the whisky glass in your fingers. 
What had happened there? 
You had no idea, honestly. It was like a switch you didn’t know was there had flipped in him. Things had been going well in LA. Disturbingly so, really, after the incident with Henry. Joel had seemed to actually give a shit, at least enough that he didn’t want you to die for something beyond professional reasons - not something you’d been convinced of before that. 
Sure, you’d fucked up getting drunk with Quinn but he’d seemed fine with it. Told you not to worry about it. And the way he’d saved you from the man in the crowd… 
When he’d taken your face in his hand, it felt like he cared. For the first time in so long, you felt protected. Not because he was paid to but because there was something he saw in you that was worth protecting. He’d held you on the drive to the hospital, seemed concerned about your wellbeing and then… nothing. 
You were almost thankful for the blowup in your driveway when you got home, the indifference crueler than any active distaste. Not that you understood what had pissed him off so much, not any more than you understood what made him so utterly uncaring to begin with. But at least him snarling at you and telling you exactly what he really thought cut you instead of leaving you floating in some vacuum that you had no right to be hurt by. Yelling at him had felt good, even if you’d cried when you went to bed that night, cradling your wrist to your chest as you remembered how he’d held you like he gave a shit. 
You knew, deep down, why it hurt as much as it did. Because, against your better judgement and all logic, you liked Joel. Watching him with Ellie damn near made you fall in love with the man but even without that, he felt safe in a way that men rarely did. You trusted him, you liked being close to him. You even appreciated how he’d worked with you to get better before you were going to start shooting Savage Starlight. You wanted him to like you, too. He just didn’t. 
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “He just… it seems like he hates me. I just don’t know why, I don’t know what I did to him, you know?” 
He frowned. 
“Hate’s a real strong word, shug.” 
“I know,” you said. “And it seemed like, maybe, we were in a good place for bit. I mean, when he first started, there was… I probably wasn’t the nicest.” 
“Really?” Justice made a skeptical face. “You’re always nice to people who work for you.” 
“Yeah,” you winced a little. “But I really didn’t want a body guard. And it’s not Joel’s fault he is one but I took it out on him. But then we kind of figured each other out a little - or it seemed like we did, anyway - and I thought… anyway, it was going well, I tried to do something nice and he made it perfectly clear how he sees me so… I guess it doesn’t matter.” 
“And you’re sure he doesn’t just wish he could fuck ya?” Justice smirked a little. 
You barked a laugh. 
“Pretty damn sure,” you said and then sighed. “At least this isn’t not permanent. Just until this whole stalker thing gets figured out.” 
“Well, he at least seems good at his job,” Justice said. “You need to let him do it. If not for you then for me’n Ellie. We need ya.” 
“I guess,” you rolled your eyes dramatically and he laughed. 
“You’re gonna get through this,” he said. “I know it’s been a shit year but you will.” 
“Yeah,” you sighed again and polished off your whisky. “Do you ever wish we hadn’t become famous? That the show flopped and we just faded to obscurity?” 
“You were famous long before we did that damn show,” he smiled a little. 
“Pedantic ass.” 
“But,” he ignored you. “Yeah, sometimes. Seems like shit would be a lot easier if I were an accountant who played music at some shit hole bar on the weekends and you were… I dunno, a theater teacher or something.” 
“Apparently we should have gone to college,” you said wryly. 
He snorted. 
“Guess so. You gonna be OK when I head to Dallas in the morning? I got sound check in the afternoon I gotta get back for.” 
“I’ll be fine,” you said. “I have to train in the afternoon, anyway.” 
“Sorry I only came for a little bit,” he said. “Tour schedule’s kicking my ass.” 
You smiled a little. 
“I’m really glad you did.” 
“Yeah,” he smiled back. “Me, too.” 
The two of you got up early and you walked him to his truck, giving him a long hug goodbye and watching until you couldn’t see him anymore. You sighed and went back inside, only to find Joel standing there in his pajamas - shirt on, at least - his arms crossed over his chest. 
“Not tryin’ to take off on me are you?” He asked. 
“Perpetually,” you said. “Because all I think about is ways to make your life difficult.” 
You ducked around him and headed for your room but he stopped you. 
“Can I talk to you.” 
You sighed and turned back to face him, brows raised. 
“What,” you said. 
He looked at you for a moment, his eyes oddly soft for a moment before going cold and dark again. 
“We have to work together, you and me,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know I… made that harder, the other day…”
“You think?” 
“And I shouldn’t have,” he continued, ignoring you. “But I think it’s better if… if we keep our distance. Keep it professional.” 
You frowned, your eyebrows knitting together, heart thudding a little harder in your chest. 
“Professional,” you said. “When has it ever been anything but professional.” 
“Just…” he quirked his jaw and you could have sworn you could make out his hands forming fists in the pockets of his pajama pants. “Thought it should be said. Close quarters and all.” 
You watched him for a moment, trying to get a bead on him but you couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell what he wanted at all. You weren’t sure what you wanted, either. 
“Fine,” you said eventually. “Professional.” 
“Good,” he said, looking you up and down and, if you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn there was something like longing in his eyes. Your stomach clenched and his face hardened again. “Get me your itinerary for the week.” 
You had to stifle a smile at that. At least it was business as usual. You’d take that. 
“Sure, Big Miller.” 
He gave you a stiff nod before padding off to the kitchen and you tried not to wonder when it had been more than professional. 
Taglist: @christinamadsen@eff4freddie@brittmb115@copperhalfcent@r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter @phry-k
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heartsandparts · 3 days ago
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My 2024 New Year’s post:
There was one who blogged amongst us who LOVED Armie and Timmy with a passion!  Most of the regulars had her blocked because she was, to use Armie and Timmy’s recent word, a contrarian.  She loved to play devil’s advocate and to insert logic and reasoning with just a hint of sass into her posts.  Ok, so maybe a LOT of sass!  I enjoyed talking with her because of her open mind and her ability to debate different sides of issues usually involving decisions that A and T made over time.  She had an almost academic way of analyzing things and we disagreed often but never took anything personally.
On September 5 of this year, she made a few of her usual reblogs and comments and then she went silent.  Even though we had talked regularly for a few years, we never exchanged our full names.  When she didn’t respond to a few messages from me, I decided to do a simple search and connect a few dots. Sadly, I learned that she had passed away unexpectedly the day after her last post. 
I am sharing this tonight because I miss talking with her very much and I feel lucky to have had such a faithful fandom friend for those years.  We all need that “go to” person who understands this fandom and its many challenges.  Embrace them!
In 2025, let’s all remember to give people a chance (maybe 2) and be more accepting of different opinions… they just may be coming from an honored emeritus professor with a PhD in Communications who passed away just weeks before her 80th birthday!
Happy New Year to all in this fandom and especially to anyone who read this far!   💙💚❤️💚💙
📸 J Fuller on Pin
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funnier-as-a-system · 2 days ago
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Anonymous out of SHAME, But is it okay for me (Someone who has never had a DID diagnosis and is effectively a singlet) to look at these types of posts??
Ive always felt kinda dirty like I'm infiltrating a community or trying to romatisize a disorder??
But I just always seem to find posts about DID and stuff more funny and even relatable in some cases, idk why? I really do not think theres any way I could even begin to have something like this!
Anyway yeah, is it wrong or weird for someone like me to read these types of blogs and posts, if it is I will completely put a stop to it! Id never intentionally harm this type of community!
No, it's not wrong at all, anon. If this were a world in which the act of reading blog posts hurt other people, this would be a very different world! We welcome all here, whether they're a system, singlet, someone with a disorder like DID who doesn't describe themself as either, or a secret fourth thing. You're not romanticizing a disorder or infiltrating a community by enjoying system jokes, so don't worry about that.
On another note, I just want to make sure something is clear: you don't have to have DID or any other disorder to be a system. All you need to be a system is to be more-than-one in some way, and there's many different ways to be that. If you relate to a lot of system stuff, perhaps it might be a good idea to reflect on why that might be, keeping all this in mind. If you say you're a singlet then I trust you on that, and I'm not saying that just relating to some posts automatically means someone is a system, but I want to make sure this is clear because I've seen many systems who didn't realize they were systems (whether they ended up discovering that they had DID or not) precisely because they thought they needed to have a specific disorder, or have specific experiences, or otherwise check all the boxes in a strict list of What All Systems Are Like™ in order to be a system. Which isn't true at all. Every system is unique, and the community as a whole is filled with variety – and thank goodness for that! This would be a very boring place if we were all exactly alike. But it's hard to take in all the different colors of a painting when you're looking at it for the first time, so people misunderstand and think all systems fit into One Specific Box, and if they don't perfectly fit into that One Specific Box, they couldn't possibly be a system. Again, this is untrue. And if you're relating to system posts without understanding why, it may be worth checking in with yourself to see if you've been suppressing anything due to a misunderstanding like that.
In short: You can be a system without DID, or even without any disorder, but regardless of whether you are or aren't a system, you are welcome here and aren't causing any harm by sticking around. We're glad to have you!
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the-badger-mole · 2 days ago
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Clouds, Fog and Mists
The scholars and archeologists that Aang had been working with had come out of their museum basements and dimly lit studies with a wealth of Air Nomad histories and artifacts that had been lost during the war. Aang now had access to recipes he hadn't tasted in years, scrolls that gave historical context to the things he had just begun learning at age 12, and objects he had never seen, but was excited to learn the use of. At 22, he was just now learning that the Air Nomads had a variety of subcultures and customs he'd never encountered, even though he had visited every Air Temple that existed back then.
"Did you know..." became as common to his vocabulary as "hello" and "custard tart". Every day, he approached his wife with some new bit of lore he'd learned.
"Did you know that the Southern Air Nomads had a Festival of Remembrance?" he'd excitedly asked as Katara was hanging the laundry out to try. She was only half listening while she tried to keep Bumi, their nearly three year old son out of the basket of wet sheets, but she gave a polite hum of encouragement.
"For a whole week," Aang continued needing no further prompting, "no one was allowed to play music or speak. They even wore velvet over their feet so their footsteps wouldn't be too loud. Then, at the end of it, there was a huge party! Loud as anything with music and plays and games. I think I remember going one of those ending parties, but I didn't know about the vow of silence before it."
"That's fascinating, sweetie," Katara said, rubbing her heavy belly with a look of discomfort. She was seven months along with their second child, and this one was very active. "Bumi, last warning. Do not touch the clean clothes!"
"Okay, Mommy!" Bumi said before swatting at one of the sheets Katara had hung on the line. She sighed and turned to her husband.
"Can you take him?" she asked. "I'm tired, and I'd like to take a nap after I finish this."
"Oh," Aang said reluctantly. "I was going to have an afternoon session with the Acolytes. I'm dying to tell them what I've been learning."
"Aang, please?" Katara sagged tiredly, taking Bumi's hand and pulling him away from all her hard work.
"Alright," Aang sighed. "I'll watch him for a bit. Come on, Bumi! Let's go practice some air katas! I want you to be ready when your airbending kicks in!"
-:-:-:-:-:-
All Air Nomads were airbenders. That's what Aang had always been taught. He had to account for late bloomers, of course, but at age four, going on five, if Bumi was going to be an airbender, there would've been signs by now. Kya was a lost cause. She had started waterbending just before her second birthday, and despite the fact that her father was the Avatar, there was no chance that she would inherit the ability to control more than one element.
"Well, maybe it's not true that all Air Nomads were benders," Katara said with a shrug. "After all, not every Water Tribesman is a waterbender, and not everyone in the Earth Kingdom is an earthbender."
"It's different," Aang insisted. "The monks told me that all Air Nomads were benders because we have a unique connection with our spirituality." Katara didn't quite manage to hide her annoyance from him.
"Then explain our kids," she said. "Unless you're the first Air Nomad in history to have children with a non-Air Nomad, someone somewhere got something wrong." Aang went quiet after that. He had no response.
"Just because the Air Nomads may have had children with people from other nations doesn't mean that their children were Air Nomads," an acolyte named Qiao said. She was one of the most apt and studious of Aang's Air Acolytes, and they had spent many hours together pouring over the newly discovered texts. Sometimes, Aang thought that she had a better grasp of Air Nomad culture than even he did.
"I suppose....I suppose that's true," Aang said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea.
"The Air Nomads were mostly not monogamous," Qiao pointed out. "I'm sure there were a lot of Nomads who had understandings with their lovers from other nations. Especially among the Air Acolytes of the day."
Aang pondered that for the rest of the day. Then the next. Then the rest of the week before he finally approached Katara. He found her by the fountain with Kya and Bumi. Kya was busy making imperfect little shapes with the water while Katara was teaching Bumi how to put his hair into a warrior's wolf tail.
"You look just like your uncle Sokka," she laughed, pressing a kiss on her son's cheek. "I bet you'll be a great warrior just like him, too." That twisted Aang's gut uncomfortably. He cleared his throat to get Katara's attention.
"Hey, sweetie," he said.
"Hey," Katara smiled at him. "We're just about to have story time. Do you want to stick around for How Umiak Rowed Her Boat to the Stars?"
"Oh, um..."Aang shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Sure. I was just...thinking of something."
"Yeah?" Katara raised her brow at him. "What?"
"I was just thinking of how all the Air Nomads were benders." Katara didn't bother trying to hide her disgusted snort or the rolling of her eyes.
"Okay, and?" she huffed. "Did you draw any new conclusions?"
"I can't have been the only Air Nomad to have children with someone from a different culture," he said. Katara stared at him blankly for a long moment.
"I told you that," she responded finally. "It's just now sinking in?'
"No, I understood you," Aang told her. He kicked at the ground. There was a loose pebble under his toe and he focused on rolling it back and forth. "It's just...well, the Air Nomads, they weren't strictly monogamous."
"Monogamous," Katara scoffed. "That's a big word for you." Aang bristled a bit at that, but he took a breath and let it go.
"I was just reading," Aang said with a shrug. "It occurred to me that maybe because the Air Nomads weren't monogamous, they just didn't bring their non-bending kids into the Air Nomad society." Katara looked up at Aang with her eyes wide.
"That's awful!" she said. "So because their kids didn't bend the right elements, they had to be cut off from one of their parents?"
"No, I'm sure it wasn't as bad as all that-" Aang started to protest.
"What exactly are you saying, Aang?" There was a dangerous edge to Katara's voice. A warning.
"Nothing, nothing!" he scrambled back, tripping over his tongue, trying to call back his words, and cursing himself for trying to bring up the subject without a plan. Katara eyed him coldly. She was angry and trying not to show it.
"It's time for lunch," she told her children. "Let's go inside and fix something to eat."
"But Mommy," Bumi protested. "I want to hear about Umiak!" Katara turned to him with a tight smile.
"That's okay, sweetie," she said. "I'll tell you while you help me fix lunch." With one last scowl at Aang, she took Bumi's hand and swung Kya up onto her hip and went inside.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Aang felt vindicated when it was discovered that he and Qiao were right. The Air Nomads would often leave non-airbending children with their non-Nomad parents. Sometimes the Air Nomad parent would stay with their non-Nomad partners and build a life with them and their children (something he made a note to tell Katara about). Then it was discovered that they were only partially right.
Some of the Air Nomads stayed and raised mixed heritage families. Some left their non-airbending children behind with their non-Nomad partners. That was expected. Reasonable, even. What Aang was not expecting, however, were the accounts of non-airbending children being given away. Some were adopted, and those adoptions were traceable through documents and letters. Others were sold. Those transactions were traceable, too. By most accounts, those children went into indentured servitude and many of them learned trades and were able to start businesses once their indenture was up. Aang tried to focus on the positives. Katara, however, was horrified.
"What right did they have to sell those children into...into slavery?" she demanded hotly while they were getting ready for bed.
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Aang insisted. "After all, the Air Nomads wouldn't have put children into situations where they could've been hurt."
"Yes," Katara sneered. "I'm sure their new owners were very gentle with their exploitation."
"That isn't fair!" Aang protested. "Do you know how difficult it would've been for those kids to live among the Nomads?"
"Probably about as easy as it's been for our kids." Katara glared at Aang meaningly. He felt his cheeks heat as he looked away, pretending not to understand.
Bumi was going on eight now, and Kya was five. They were both old enough to ask questions about why it was so difficult for them to move around their own home. Katara and the Acolytes had an easier time being adults and able to maneuver obstacles that short legs and small hands couldn't without help, but it was still a regular challenge to get around the Air Temple for them. Aang was in the process of building a complex near Republic City where non-airbending Acolytes could live and learn with more ease, but it wouldn't be ready for anyone to move into for another year or so. It would be safer for children with no airbending ability, too. Aang glanced over at Katara from the corner of his eye, at the soft swell of her stomach, already showing signs of pregnancy at her second month.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Tenzin was the last of Aang's children with Katara, and the only airbender. When he was almost one, he airbent for the first time, and Aang couldn't stop celebrating for an entire week. When Tenzin was two, the first of the burial mounds were discovered.
Archaeologists working at the mostly restored Northern Air Temple found it at the base of the mountain. There were several layers to the grave, suggesting generations' worth of use. Most of the bones were small. Infant and toddler sized. The largest bones were about the size of an average eight year old. The bones were all jumbled together, as if they had been tossed in a heap. Some of them wore the clothes they were buried in, but most of the bones were too broken to hang on to any frabric. There were also no signs of any shrouds or anything indicating that they had been given any of the customary funeral rites of the Air Nomads. The fact that they were found at the base of the mountain in itself was unusual. All the different groups of Air Nomads had their own unique funeral customs, but one thing that remained the same was that they were laid to rest as close to the sky as possible.
When the first reports of how the children came to be at the base of the mountain came out, Aang was certain it was the rankest propaganda. None of the Air Nomads, no matter how stringent they were about non-airbenders living among them, would ever harm a child. For a while, he seemed to be right, as all the proof was from secondary and tertiary sources.
"Lies the Fire Nation used to justify genocide," Aang said confidently.
"But how did the children get there?" Katara asked. Aang had no answer for her. Yet. There must have been a good one, though. Maybe a plague had run through the Air Temple, forcing them to bury the bodies at the bottom of the mountain to prevent contamination, or something equally tragic. Aang began talking to the archaeologists about giving the bones a proper burial as soon as they could be sorted. The count at that time was 700 bodies in the pile and there were still so many more to go.
A few months after that, the oldest of the Air Nomad accounts were uncovered. It went back a good 300 years, and it spoke about a surplus of infants born without the gift of airbending. There were too many to be disposed of the normal ways, and many of the non-bending parents were unwilling or unable to raise the children themselves. The anonymous monk wrote of a meeting to discuss the crisis. They wouldn't be able to care for so many that couldn't get around the temple, or travel with the Nomads. There was a food shortage. A water shortage. An everything shortage. So the head monk suggested giving the children to the air. That had been the first time the practice had been recorded, near as anyone could tell. But some of the bones were older than that.
That's what they called it. It sounded lovely. Poetic even. In practice, though, the babies were carried to the edge of the temple grounds and held in the air. A short prayer was said for the souls of the children, and then they just...let go. They were so high up, they probably couldn't hear the children hit the ground.
The public began to call them the Fog Children. They were babies born to Air Nomad parents, but without airbending abilities themselves. People clung to the term and it soon spread all over the world in hushed whispers. Aang hated it. Katara hated it. It was the only thing they could agree on by that time.
"It isn't fair!" Aang bemoaned. "It's like people are using it to justify the Fire Nation killing all the Air Nomads."
"If it bothers you so much," Katara said after she'd put the kids to bed, "then speak up! Condemn what they did."
"I do!" Aang insisted. He had protested, loudly that all of the Air Nomads shouldn't be judged by what one fringe sect did.
"Not just them," Katara said. "All of it. It's just like with the Fire Nation. Remember what Zuko said? You can't expect to move forward without acknowledging the past. All of it was wrong. The Air Nomads treated their non-bending children as if they had no value. Condemn the adoptions and abandonings and the selling of the children!"
"How is it my responsibility to make up for all of that?" Aang demanded.
"You're the only one left," Katara reminded him, trying to be gentle. "I'm not saying you have to call the Air Nomads monsters. They did something wrong. They were human. You can acknowledge that and commit to being better than that."
"How?"
"Start with your children."
It had been a frequent argument between Katara and Aang how Aang treated their children. Bumi was 13 now, well on his way to becoming a man. Kya was 11 and Tenzin was five. Often, Katara would quiz Aang on his children- what Kya's favorite color was, or the name of Bumi's best friend. Aang could admit that he was correct about Tenzin more often than the others, but it was only because Aang had so much he had to teach his youngest. Katara should've understood that. After all, there were things she did with Kya that she couldn't do with Bumi or Tenzin.
"It's not the same," Katara told him. Aang could never remember why, though.
For the next year or so, Aang spent much of his time doing damage control. He did his best to separate the practices at the Northern Air Temple and the particular sect of Air Nomad culture that grew around it from the rest of the Air Nomads. Every criticism of the culture was met sharply by Aang's rebuttals and justifications. Penning article after article espousing the virtues of the Air Nomads at large became his full time job, and obsession. It took him two weeks to notice that Katara had left with all three of his children, and another month for him to find the letter Katara had left in his bedside table telling him she was seeking a divorce.
He got Tenzin three months of the year. It was all he could manage, being completely unused to parenting alone. Aang taught his son what he could of airbending and the Nomad philosophy he could in that time, and did his best to ignore the people whispering fog children in the same breath as his oldest children.
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