#but i am young and need these shits to last so many more decades...

[writingpseudonym]

Mad about my teeth being luxury bones rn

[sapphicsvibes]

my last post was also about the discussions of transmisogyny centering cis female athletes who are women of color. there is a wider conversation being had about transmisogyny in athletics, and that is that, trans women aren't even allowed to compete. before we start discussing how transmisogyny impacts not trans fems, we need to actually center the discussion around the heavily, transmisogynstic shit that is already happening.

and when we talk about how cis woc athletes being overly masculinized and decide to call it transmisogyny instead of what it actually is, racism, it sets us back. there is this understood idea that people can be indirectly impacted by transmisogyny, but unless the subjects of those conversations are transfeminine people, then the focus shouldn't be transmisogyny.

it should be racism. it should be the fact that the white, western gender binary and idea of femininty/womanhood is so fucked up that cis girls of color from a young age are viewed as more masculine, dangerous and larger than white women. we should be focusing on the complexities of misogynoir that black girls go through from childhood to adult hood where we are both masculinized and also hypersexualized and exposed to harmful race science that gets us preyed upon by older men. we should focus on how these conversations of masculinizing women of color comes to play in how white women and white afabs (yes, i know i said i dont like using afabs but i am starting ot use it when discussing the lived experience of white afab people and how that negatively impacts people of color in queer spaces) can utilize their privilege, tears, femininity, etc., to turn society against cis girls of color and how we are automatically seen as a threat to them

we need to talk about racialized misogyny when dicussing imane khelif, and how white women like jk rowling, who has a history of transmigoyny yes, but also anti-arab/MENA racism and islamaphobia, and is prominent in alt right groups, is using her platform to attack a possible muslim, MENA woman. and that's a big thing that hardly anyone talks about - Rowling is heavily islamphobia and anti-arab. when you se guys see her attacking a MENA woman, and decide to focus solely on transmisogyny, you are quite literally erasing a huge chunk of her bigotry.

yes, indirect transmisogyny comes to play, but when you are talking about racialized misogyny, you NEED to make sure that is the main focus - racism and misogyny, because if you don't you make it hard if not impossible for us to have any type of productive conversation. you guys being too afraid to call out racism and misogyny makes it seem like you are shielding white women/afabs and white society from the pain they have put women of color through for decades.

the same goes for misogynoir??? like when we are talking about misogynoir and them completely ignore it and lump it under transmisogyny, who does that help? not only does the black community have an issue with transmisogyny in general, but it also erases a term that we've come up with to help better discuss our oppression.

also, this isn't to say that trans woc don't face racialized misogyny and misogynoir (black transfems!) because they do. but it should be understood that while THEY face these things, transmisogyny is something that should also center them. and while we, as non trans fem women do face racialized misogyny/misogynoir - yeah, sometimes we can draw comparisons between transmisogyny, but we shouldn't be the ones taking the lead or taking platforms.

and last but not least, the way you guys who are claiming what is happening to cis female athletes is transmisogynistic. Do you know how many trans people, who aren't trans fem, that i've seen saying

"see, this is why we need to talk about transmisogyny affecting non transfems! xyz athlete was actually born a woman, she's not a man, she is afab! she has a vagina!" do you realize how that language is terfy, do you realize how you guys will try to hijack convos of transmisogyny while also reinforcing transmisogynistic requirements of what makes a woman a woman?

[avalonia320]

IWTV Thoughts

I finally got to watch the finale last night and when I tell you I am SHOOK to my damn core. I don't know how to put it into words. I'm older than a lot of people here. I first read the Vampire Chronicles when I was 11; I found them in a box that belonged to my mother. When I tell you I devoured those books, re-read them over and over and over, fell in love with Lestat and New Orleans & Paris, cried over Claudia and Louis...I was totally besotted by the world Anne Rice created.

When the movie was announced when I was a teen (yes I'm that old), first I was so excited and then I was furious, as many of us Anne Rice devotees were, when Tom Cruise was cast as Lestat. I could not imagine an actor further away from how I had imagined Lestat. But still, I had to see it, and while it was still miles away from what I had wanted, I came away impressed with Tom Cruise. He still wasn't my Lestat, but he threw himself into the role in a way that made me believe he'd been waiting his whole life to let his inner Queen off the chain.

The movie itself...I had loved parts of it, but there was still so much more that I wanted. When the sequel came out (Queen of the Damned) I liked parts of that too and I actually enjoyed Stuart Townsend as Lestat. I hated most of it though, especially what they did with Marius (to this day I don't know what the hell that was about) but it was obvious at that point that I was never going to see the vampire world I was so enthralled with on the screen.

Then this series comes out. And while my expectations were low, I was still pretty excited. And then I watched it.

Holy fucking shitballs, you guys. I am normally so protective of my favorite books, resenting any little change unless it makes sense but everything they've done with this series, everything they've changed makes so much fucking sense. I don't want to try and break it down, I don't have the words. Lestat was always my big love in the books, but in this series, I've fallen in love with Louis and Claudia in a way I never imagined. I always loved their characters, don't get me wrong, but I never connected with them this way until now. And don't even get me started on Daniel, who I will admit I actively disliked in the books for the unforgivable crime of being boring. Um....that's a word I will never ever use in connect to Daniel Molloy ever ever ever again. And Armand and Madeleine and...I can't.

And Lestat. I loved him in the first season but in the second season, when he showed up with that long hair, I saw him for the first time like someone took the Lestat that has lived in my head since I was 11 years old and put him on the screen. He is EXACTLY how I imagined him. The way he looks, the way he talks, his emotion, his breakdowns, his unbelievable flair for the dramatic...this is HIM. I feel like I've been been unconsciously waiting decades for him to show up and for people to see him the way I saw him back then. I can't be the only old school fan that feels this way. It's just so surreal to see it so exact, it takes me right back to my childhood and the way I fell into stories then. The way you feel things when you're so young is something so hard to recapture but I feel like I'm right back there again on my bed, reading the books over and over again.

I'm just so grateful. To everyone involved with this series, the writers, the cast...I know i'm getting overly emotional but everything's been so shit lately and we've all needed an escape, a good one for once. I needed this so badly.

And I have to believe, wherever she is now, Anne Rice is so fucking proud.

[celaenaeiln]

something i’d love to see more of is angsty rebellious teenage dick grayson. i don’t know why i enjoy the trope but the image of dick “golden boy” grayson getting plastered with roy as he slowly sinks into depression before somewhat getting his shit together is an interesting picture

also he just seems like the guy to get impulsive piercings. dunno why

oooh yeah that fantasy's a guilty a pleasure of mine.

I am 1000000000% an enforcer of Dick was not an angry robin. And he wasn't because the comics show just how happy his demeanor was and how fun he is. But angsty teen Dick? 16/17 year old Dick?

I LOVE IT.

Again throwing a little bit of canon in

"When we started this you were open and encouraging. You were my father...but these last few years...all you've been doing is trying to control me even more."

This is so loaded.

The anger Dick feels when Bruce is trying control him, trying to lock him in a cage in the batcave because of worry, has so much ao3 potential.

Like angsty teen dick is so complicated to think about because Bruce acts a bit like an alcoholic father and Dick's compartmentalization issues come from his parents' death. So what would this result in?

I have no fcking clue.

Because Dick would totally get wasted with Roy, hazy blue eyes staring emptily into space, watching with a flushed cheeks as his short black hair fans out on the back of a beaten blue couch at Roy's place, just breaking down quietly as Roy rants and screams about life's injustices in the background, slinging an arm around Dick and jostling him.

Or maybe he and Roy would also go bar hopping, both of them sloppy drunk, laughing and crying at the same time while they max out their daddies' credit cards and then crash somewhere in someone's pool. Maybe they end up inadvertently on Katy Perry's Friday Night music video.

Or maybe Dick would be a hurricane of disaster, lashing out with knives of sharpened words stabbing the deepest, sorest spots of pain in people, his anger alighting a fire in all. He would be magnificent, ferocious, and catastrophic.

He could be any of these three and all three at once.

He would feel the need to act out if Bruce was becoming more controlling.

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, Dick raised Bruce and that perpetually sense of responsibility he's instilled into himself from a young age as well as his self-sufficiency is never erased so one night he would be blacked out from the excessive alcohol but next morning 6'o clock his body's walking up and he's going through his morning routine like a machine and out the door to work. He just keeps going like this day and day until he collapses and the titans intervene or Bruce drags him back to the manor, screaming in love and fear and Dick screams back and the cycle begins.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #135

Like canonically Dick ran away from home at 16, got a job, got caught up in a major anarchist group, and did a whole freaking investigation while Bruce sulked in the cave because Dick ran away.

There's so much angsty dick potential that could go in so many ways because he's such a complex character that all of them apply.

LOL!!! I totally think he would get impulsive piercings too. Maybe when he's drunk and pissed and then the next day he would wake up be like wtf. He'd sit in turmoil and a little regret for a while and then be like whatever because these piercing are freaking cool.

Bonus: no one (except the og titans and Alfred bc Dick never keeps anything from Alfred and the titans are family) ever find out about the piercings and it's kept a tightly guarded secret until a decade later when he does something in the batcave and one of the batkids notice and they're like, "DICK YOU HAVE A PIERCING?!" The rest of them just about break their neck whipping their head around to look at him. Dick just shrugs nonchalantly because time has tempered him and goes, "oh yeah. I guess. I forgot." Bruce passes out and wakes up on the floor to Dick hovering worriedly over him while the rest of the family watches in amusement at his predicament and also half brokenly because their golden boy big brother has piercings. Plural.

Bruce gasped out a pained breath, "Piercings?"

Dick stared at him silently, gemstone eyes holding his gaze as the quiet of the cave melted the seconds into hours. His eyes slowly slid from Bruce's to where the rest of the family was standing, watching them with bated breath for his answer, before they met Bruce's hopeful ones again.

"No." Bruce, with all the strength left in his body after recovering, raised a questioning eyebrow as Dick continued, "I don't have any piercings and never did."

"Hmn." But he swore he could've seen-

The kids erupted in protests.

"Dick, come on!" Jason hollered, pushing forward. "We clearly saw it there-"

"Where?" Dick asked, spreading his arms wide and invitingly, offering them to see for themselves.

The piercing they had all gotten the barest glimpse of was gone from where they had seen it on Dick.

"But you said you! You said, 'yeah. I guess so. I forgot.'" Stephanie put her hands on her hips, "Admit it Boy Piercing!"

"Boy Piercing?!"

"Fess up, pretty boy!"

"Steph," Dick visibly bit his lip to keep from laughing, "I was joking. You guys should've see your reactions - they were so funny!! Dick has a piercing. OMG. You people were hilarious."

Damian clicked his tongue. "Enough Richard! Did you implement metal into you skin like a heathen? Richard, how could you?! Who dare touch-"

"No Dami!" Dick quickly interfered to prevent a possible murder on his behalf, "I was just kidding, okay? Besides, did you guys even really see it? Like full on?"

Harper crossed her arms. "Close enough."

Dick quirked his eyebrow at that. "But you didn't actually see it right? You thought you saw something shining and turned to look. C'mon you guys know what it is - peripheral vision hallucinations. Things you see in your peripheral vision that aren't real because you are tired," He pinned a look at each other, emphasizing the words, "and stressed."

Dick pressed his lips together and folded his arms. "Time for bed. Now. I know you all haven't been sleeping for the past few days so you all are going to bed. At the manor." Dick finished, shooting Jason a look when he tried secretly shuffling toward his bike.

The rest of them were unmoved for a moment but quickly caved under Dick's patented "I'm mom-ing you."™ stare as Jason liked to call it.

They trudged upstairs while Bruce and Dick watched in companionable silence.

Bruce turned to look at Dick as the sounds of their bickering and footsteps faded away.

"How did you do it?"

Dick hummed distractedly and tilted his head to look down at Bruce still sitting on the floor. "Do what?"

Bruce growled, impatience, annoyance, and apprehension swimming in his voice, "Don't lie. To me. How did you hide it? Now. And for so long?"

Bruce watched tensed as the tip of Dick's tongue ran over the ridges of his top row of teeth, the first sign of anger he had seen from him in weeks. The pink flesh of his tongue barely avoiding cutting itself on the slightly too sharp canines that Dick loved to call his vampire teeth since he was little. He had even threw a veteran-dentist-scaring-tantrum in the dentist's office when the man suggested shaving them down once.

Bruce watched warily as Dick crouched down, balancing on his balls of his feet like a cat on a fence, and forcefully tamped down the sudden urge to pull out a hidden batarang when the boy grinned, eyes lighting with the wild fire of joy and madness from his robin days that still had Bruce on edge for decades.

"How did you it?" He asked again, not sure if he really wanted to know anymore but the principle remained. There was no way Dick's activities could be hidden for so long. He didn't invest in his detective following skills for something like this to escape his observation. But at the same time Dick had evaded his tracking skills when he was seventeen and ran away from him. But something so obvious as a piercing would never escape his notice. But a whole 17 year old boy also shouldn't have escaped his notice. However, Bruce had improved. He had gotten better at his job and his skills. Right? Right, of course, he was the best in the world. Dick definitely did have a piercing. But...on the off chance...what if he really had just seen a flash of light? Sweat on a body? The edge of a birdarang? Peripheral vision hallucinations? "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

You already know what I'm asking. Bruce thought, frustrated with Dick for lying. Frustrated with himself for not knowing if Dick was lying.

"Do you have piercings?" Bruce ground out.

Dick laughed, his voice echoing like choir bells in the spacious cave and bouncing off the stalactites to create a ringing, haunting melody as he leaned in closer to Bruce.

"C'mon, B! You know every showman's got his own tricks," Dick grinned brightly.

And you're the whole damn circus. Bruce hissed viciously in his mind.

Dick's eyes twinkled back at him.

[queerofcups]

a July rec list

I read a truly absurd amount of fanfic in July, and since I’m tracking my fic reading anyway these days, I figured, why not pull up some faves. I’ll do my best to tag authors when and where I can! I’ll throw some commentary in there to talk about why I like some of them, but rest assure this is a rec list and I think every one of them has something to love. 

Hockey RPF

In the scrawl of the ringside choir E, 37k, Hockey RPF | @goodnightpuckbunny Sid/Geno

“Geno, this is Sid Crosby,” Kris says, sitting back down. The kid towers over both of them, but seems small in the office. “You need a coach, so he’s gonna help you out.” He looks Sid over, eyes scanning like he’s looking for weaknesses, faults in his form. Sid has plenty, but he’s not fighting anymore. He doesn’t bother mirroring the gesture. He can guess without looking. “He old,” Geno eventually decrees. 

Interview with the Vampire

The Vampire Eric

E | 4k | falsescience (@theburialofstrawberries) Eric Bogosian/Jam Reiderson, Jam Reiderson

Oh ho, Eric thinks to himself, and then, aloud, because it’s just too delicious, and wouldn’t Rolin be ashamed, and a little pissed: “Oh ho!” He feels zapped alive: young, powerful, god-like. Jacob starts giggling immediately. “Did you just say ‘oh ho’?” “Or maybe aspen. What do you think, Eric?” “Not a damn clue,” says Eric, with a broad grin. “You look very satisfied. He looks very satisfied, doesn’t he?” Jacob smiles at Sam over his hitched shoulder. “Hm,” says Sam. “I think we play it safe, and go with red maple.” Yeah, Eric is certain: Jacob and Sam aren’t fucking. But they’d like to be.

First of all, I am RPF’ing these people real hard in some private chats. But largely, I like the characterization happening here, and the little turn of understanding that happens in the last third of the fic. 

reformation

E | 44k | verseau (@downstairsbar) Lestat/Louis

we're gonna heal. we're gonna start again. you've brought the orchestra, synchronized swimmers. // It makes him speechless sometimes, how much he loves Lestat. He thought for years, a decade, that it was sickness. It’s not. It’s not. Even when Louis hated Lestat, nothing was more certain than that he loved him.

There’s some great, great plotting and characterization here but/also I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve read a fic and known immediately that the author is Black. That’s obviously not a requirement of the fic I write but it's nice to have Southern Black characters really sound like people I’ve known/grown up around etc. 

let’s keep this off the record

E | 1.4k | anonymous

Louis/Santiago (sort of)

There would be no second chances for the Englishman, no opportunity for him to crawl out of some dump and seek revenge. Louis would make sure of that.

Honestly, I think it's great that fandom has a long and storied history of skullfucking. I think it's fun that weird shit like that still happens around here.

Maman

T | 2k | anonymous Claudia/Madeline, Louis/Lestat

Madeleine meets in the in-laws. Particularly one of them.

transpires

M-E | 5.8k total | familiar (@bigvampo or @camilliar? sekrit you've got so many blogs) Louis/Lestat

I mean, sekrit is just a fucking stellar writer. sekrit’s got a way of telling so much —  about a character, their mental state, the world their in —  in just a few razor sharp details. also these fics are so funny and the characterizations of Louis and Lestat feel like natural progressions from what we’ve seen in canon both in how much they love each other and how terrible they are (to each other and in general)

Harry Potter

Right. I think I’ve always been pretty upfront about my continued reading of Harry Potter fanfiction, but in case it's somehow necessary to say, please do not come to my inbox talking about JK Rowling. I don’t think about that woman and I’m very clear about what she thinks about me. 

Those Three Curses

E | 6k total | @dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry

Obviously I had a bit of a fucking dodgerkedavra moment here, but these blew me away. So much story telling in such little space. 

Former Things Come to Mind

E | 64k | dodgerkedavra

Harry Potter has had a headache for seven and a half years.

In the Presence of My Enemy E | 41k | dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry

All Harry knows is that Sectumsempra is for enemies. He doesn’t know that it will bind him to Draco Malfoy, for better or worse, ‘til death do them part.

Tiny Home

E | 30k | @wolfpants Draco/Harry/Ron

Harry and Ron left the Aurors years ago to travel the world and make up for lost time. When they finally decide to settle roots back in England, together, building a tiny home in the Lake District by hand seems like the perfect plan. What they don't realise is that Draco Malfoy already lives on the plot of land that they choose to build on. A story about years of feelings, about weaving lives in and around each other, and about finding a place safe enough to call home.

I really feel like there’s been an explosion of excellent Draco/Harry/Ron all of a sudden. One of my qualms with a lot of polyship fics is that it's very uhhh “we must do everything together” and I really love that this fic breaks that down and allows everyone to have histories and experiences together as dyads and all together. 

In Our Blood

E | 37k | secretsalex Draco/Harry

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

I’m not even going to bullshit y’all. This fic reminded me why I love mpreg. Excellent use of body horror, body dread, suspense, all these things. Also, an mpreg fic that remembers abortion is a thing. Amazing!

Probationary Action

E | 63k | @toomuchplor Draco/Harry

As part of the terms of the probationary contract, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY shall submit for inspection his WAND on the last day of every month, such inspection to be carried out by a duly registered and fully qualified AUROR in the employ of the MINISTRY OF MAGIC, and such inspection to include a PRIORI INCANTATEM spell to ensure that no PROHIBITED MAGICS as heretofore described have been practised by the aforementioned probationer.

I’ve been obsessed with toomuchplor since Inception and this fic reminded me why. I don’t love Auror!Harry fic (truly, just so much unchecked, delighted writing about police brutality) but I do like any fic where Harry starts to wake up to the fact that maybe just because they’re “the good guys”, not every choice made by the Aurors/Wizarding Gov’t in general is right. Also, I appreciate the expansion on the idea of sex charms!

Embers

E | 41k | @shiftylinguini Draco/Harry

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

idk man, I like a fic that treats sex work like it's just a job. Worthy of respect, full of technical expertise, etc. 

--

Both of these next fics came from @hd-wireless which has been, pound for pound, one of the best fests I've ever witness and is a testament to how important having multiple fic fests in a fandom can be! so much good shit to read!

The most he’s ever said

E | 16k | anonymous Draco/Harry

It takes them twenty years.

Two Houses

E | 11k | anonymous Draco/Harry

Two households, both alike in... meddling Floo connections, apparently? Draco Malfoy is a highly professional and well-respected Ministry official, with a demanding schedule, a loving son, and—through no fault of his own—a faulty Floo connection that keeps regurgitating the Minister for Magic through his fireplace.

I really enjoy that there's been more of a trend of writing about these two as older people and fleshing out the characterization of their kids.

[letters-to-rosie]

You said last month that it's not Ekko if he's not involved in activism, anarchism, just actively doing shit to make a change. I absolutely agree. But you also said you "come out of a particular background and that means [you] have certain thoughts and approaches to social change that leave out things that others do and are involved in". Would you please elaborate further on that? Not just for writing Ekko, but for the sake of knowing and maybe applying to real life. You made me curious.

So I sat on this for a while not because I didn't want to answer it but because I wanted to answer it thoughtfully, and I've typed out some things that didn't feel right, but I'm going to try again now.

I tried to find the exact context for where I said that and I failed lol so I am working off memory, but again I will try.

So in terms of background, I'm a Black American. When I was young, I pretty much assumed that my family history would be depressing and I didn't want to look into it. And some of that is there: family trees that get lost once you hit enslavement, dysfunction you can pretty much trace right back to that period, having to explain to people that your family is on the light side not because of consensual relationships but because you're from one of those states that exported slaves, you get the deal. A byproduct of this is that by the time I was an adult and wanted to dig into it and found that there was actually a lot to learn, many of the elders I wanted to learn from had passed on.

That, mixed in with me trying to understand my... financially turbulent?? life led me to engage with black radical thinkers as an adult. And that led into left-wing politics in general. So that's like half of it.

The other half is I've always been the type of person who likes a hands-on problem. My approach to social change has always just been "find a problem and throw myself at it." And that translated into a social service background. Even now, to pay for my classes, I work in social services at my university, still throwing myself at a problem that's sort of followed me around for a decade or so now. I'm not in love with the conditions of trying to fight a problem within the walls of an institution that helps perpetuate them, but for me, the immediacy of people's needs supersedes any need I feel for ideological consistency.

On top of that, I study race. And media. So imagine my excitement when I see Ekko!

I don't know that I've ever encountered a character who checked so many boxes. He sees problems and throws himself at them. He practices radical compassion with people struggling with substance use. AND their victims. And even though he's fighting Silco, he knows that the problems in the city go straight to the top (I oughta write a fic someday where he does make it across the bridge and gets to yell at the council because he so deserves that).

He grieves. I've said before that grief is the emotion that has most defined my adult life. I feel like I'm always grieving. And Ekko models how you do that and keep moving. Rather than giving into the hopelessness of the setting, he creates a place where people can heal and be their best selves. AND HE HAS NATURAL HAIR!!! My natural hair journey is another story but it's honestly tied up in all of this lol.

He's like a treasure trove of things that matter to me, honestly. I'm not even sure how much I realized it at first. But as time passed, I'd keep going back to this character and thinking. His revolutionary spirit is truly to be admired. And I think that evolution in how I've thought about him comes through pretty clearly in my writing, as I come to fully embrace a bottom-up style of conceptualizing revolutionary thought and practice. I know I'll grow and change as I get older, learn more, and do more, but at this particular moment, I think Ekko has a lot of value for me.

So what am I not interested in? Off the top of my head...

versions of the character that leave out that political dimension. I'm not inserting politics into the show. The division between what is political and isn't is a false one. If the politics aren't registering, that's because they're close to the politics of the status quo

which is not to say I think everybody has to write him with politics fully foregrounded, but I wish more people would, you know?

and speaking of the politics, not really interested in ones that aren't radical. Not trying to pass a certain purity test, but we can keep in mind that Misfit Toys shows Scar beating up a dummy Enforcer, in gear. Which they probably got by fighting them. Fun!

another thing I think is key and I would like to see engaged with more is that Ekko doesn't view people using shimmer as enemies. I honestly wonder whether the Firelights know as much as they do about Silco's stuff because they have members who formally worked in the syndicate.

and I bring that up because another thing that the show as a whole and Ekko's interactions with Jinx invite us to think about is not viewing anyone as too far gone. I think in the rush to clearly delineate good and evil, we make too many lines and ignore the material conditions that motivate and contextualize people's actions.

and on that note, I don't like to make Ekko a paragon. I think casting him as a pure soul who is working tirelessly for his people ignores his indignation at the situation around him and how he is actively choosing, every day to do the things he does. I like to keep agency foregrounded.

To close, I wanna share some quotes, because y'all know I love reading revolutionaries.

“It is necessary that the weakness of the powerless is transformed into a force capable of announcing justice. For this to happen, a total denouncement of fatalism is necessary. We are transformative beings and not beings for accommodation.” —Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed

“We have chosen a different path to achieve better results. We have chosen to establish new techniques. We have chosen to seek forms of organization that are better adapted to our civilization, abruptly and once and for all rejecting all kinds of outside diktats, so that we can create the conditions for a dignity in keeping with our ambitions. We refuse simple survival. We want to ease the pressures, to free our countryside from medieval stagnation or regression. We want to democratize our society, to open up our minds to a universe of collective responsibility, so that we may be bold enough to invent the future. We want to change the administration and reconstruct it with a different kind of civil servant. We want to get our army involved with the people in productive work and remind it constantly that, without patriotic training, a soldier is only a criminal with power. That is our political programme.” —Thomas Sankara, Speech before the General Assembly of the United Nations

“Let me just say: Peace to you, if you're willing to fight for it.” —Fred Hampton

[outstandingblue]

Promises to Keep

One - Idiots in the Forest

recom!miles quaritch x fem!na’vi oc

| Masterlist | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine |  Chapter Ten |  Chapter Eleven |  Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen |  Chapter Fifteen |

Man, Jiniraa just wanted to gather her leaves and go home. Not worry about these idiot boys trying to make a name for themselves. 

find it on ao3 here

content warning: a lil bit of anxiety

word count: 2k

The sounds of the forest brought comfort to her ears. While she had to remain somewhat vigilant for actual dangerous creatures, most of the life around her just wanted to be left alone. She was content, even though she was by herself, something she’d been scolded for time and time again upon her return to the Omaticaya stronghold in the floating mountains. 

A few more leaves, then I’ll have enough to last a couple weeks. She thought to herself, mindlessly humming a song. It wasn’t a Na’vi song, rather it was some human song that Norm introduced her years prior. While many members of the Omaticaya clan resented having certain humans living amongst their ranks, she loved living with them. She found them fascinating, much much kinder than any Na’vi she could ever hope to meet. 

After she was finally satisfied with her haul for the day, she began making her way back towards the mountains. There wasn’t any sort of urgency to her step, she was savoring her time in the forest. Along the way, she passed a small herd of Fwampops. They were drinking out of a small watering hole and she stopped for a quick break. Groaning as she bent at the knees, one of the smallest walked up besides her leg, leaning in for a pet.

“Little one, you are too cute. Also too trusting,” she smiled down at the young as it scampered back to its mother with a little yelp.

Continuing along, she found herself taking a shortcut towards the old battlefield from years ago. No harm, no foul. Right? Jake probably would yell at her if he knew of the route she decided to take, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt. The area was strictly off limits and no one was supposed to be anywhere near the zone, so wasn’t she surprised to hear four familiar voices in the distance. 

Making her way towards the voices, she decided to use it as a teaching moment for the Sully children and Spider. She took up the mantle as older sister or cool aunt to all of the young ones, so it was a perfect opportunity. Technically she was breaking the rules too, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Stalking her way behind the children, she got close enough to demonstrate they were being too careless. 

“Now what exactly are you all doing here?” She called out from the trees. All at once, four heads snapped her way. She smiled and jumped down, landing with a thud in front of Lo’ak.

“Jiniraa!” Tuk called out with a smile on her face. Kiri crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, as per usual. Lo’ak and Spider had their “oh shit, we’re in trouble” looks knowing they had been caught.

“Can’t we ask you the same question? You’re only a few years older than us” Lo’ak asked, clearly annoyed that an adult had ruined their adventure.

“No actually you cannot. A decade is more than a few years. I am more responsible than you. Why is Tuk here? I wouldn’t be as upset if it was just you two idiots trying to get yourselves killed. You need to be more responsible and thoughtful” Lo’ak’s ears lowered and he brought his gaze to the ground, he never liked being called out for his antics. At her tone, Spider and Lo’ak both muttered small apologies without making any eye contact. 

Jiniraa realized her tone was probably too harsh on the children, they were just learning anyway. With a sigh, she ran a hand over her face. “Look, let’s just head back home. I won’t bring it up to your parents if and only when you promise me you will stop this careless behavior.” She crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at the group in front of her. 

A chorus of ‘yes, we promise’ came from all the children. Still feeling bad for the tone she used, she bent down, putting one hand on the shoulders of Spider and Lo’ak, “I just want you guys to all be safe. Let’s go.”

“Um, actually, Nira, we kinda found tracks,” Spider said as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Tracks?” She responded, clearly annoyed at the cryptic words of the human teen. “Care to elaborate?”

Lo’ak responded for his friend, “they were the size of Na’vi feet, but boots. Like military boots.”

Jiniraa felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. This area of the forest already gave her the creeps and the thought that they weren’t alone made it worse ten-fold. Although she felt anxiety beginning to coarse through her veins, she needed to keep her wits about her, for the sake of the children. 

She wasn’t a warrior like their parents. Sure, she could hold her own thanks to Jake insisting she learn at least the basics, but if it was an opponent with any skill she was done for. Knowing she was at a disadvantage skill wise, Jiniraa would die for the children standing in front of her without a doubt. She would fight until her dying breath to make sure they were safe.

Taking a deep breath, Jiniraa clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to center herself. “All the more reason to get out of here.”

“But-”

“Lo’ak absolutely no buts. We are heading home. Tuk, come.” Jinirara took Tuk on her back, something she had done since Tuk was just old enough to walk. Although she was trying to keep calm for the children, especially Tuk, her anxiety wasn’t covered as well as she hoped. Once Tuk was on her back, she felt the child’s arms tighten around her neck.

Jiniraa was leading the group with Tuk on her back, keeping the pace as fast as she could. Kiri was slightly behind Jiniraa while the two boys begrudgingly followed behind. 

“You’re limping again.” Kiri stated plainly. It was the first thing she said since Jiniraa had jumped out of the trees. “You know you aren’t supposed to be jumping to the ground like that. You could hurt yourself even more.”

Jiniraa sighed, knowing Kiri was right. “I know, I know. I’ve had this pain since before you were born, sweet girl. I’ll be fine. I was out collecting leaves to make wrappings for my hip. The old stuff isn’t working anymore.” There was a pause. “Just don’t tell Norm. Or Mo’at. I don’t know which one will be scarier about this.”

“Grandmother will be. Without a doubt.” The three girls laughed to themselves. Jiniraa looked over her shoulder to make a joke to Kiri about how scary Mo’at can be at times when she only saw Kiri. No boys. No idiot, idiot boys.

“Kiri, where are Spider and Lo’ak?” Jiniraa asked in a nervous tone, not even trying to hide it anymore. Kiri glanced around as well to no avail. Jiniraa tightened her hold on Tuk, “fuck. Alright let’s retrace, they just veered off. They’re fine. I’m sure they’re fine.”

Kiri and Tuk shared a glance at each other, both recognizing the signs of Nira’s anxiety, something that wasn’t a secret in the village. 

The group only had to walk back about a hundred yards before they found signs of where the boys ventured off to. To Nira’s dismay, she caught sight of those tracks Lo’ak described earlier. 

She paused for a second, “alright, I need both of you to stay as quiet as possible. Tuk, I’m going to put you on the ground, I can’t sneak with you on my back.” Nira quickly and quietly lowered Tuk to the ground, pulling her knife off her thigh at the same time.

The girls followed the tracks, Tuk safely tucked in the middle, holding onto Jiniraa’s tail for childish security. Within minutes, she spotted Lo’ak and Spider crouching up against a fallen log. Coming up behind the two, she grabbed an ear from both, pulling them towards her.

“Now, what the fuck do you two think you’re doing?” She asked. There wasn’t aggression in her voice. No, it was a cold anger. Coming from her, it was much scarier than her loudest of yelling. 

“Mom is going to ground you,” Kiri stared at her brother, receiving an eye roll as a response, “for life,” She emphasized. 

Jiniraa couldn’t care less about the childish banter happening behind her as she looked forward. Eyes widened realizing exactly where they were. In the distance, she could see one of the old links and where the Na’vi-human war came to a bloody end all those years ago. Not only that, she saw at least half a dozen Na’vi-looking beings surveying the area. Armed with large guns, dressed in camouflage, and fully decked out with gear, Jiniraa’s heart sank to the pits of her stomach. 

“We’re going. Now. One of you make contact with your parents. Now.” She gathered Tuk back up on her back as Lo’ak raised a hand to his throat. 

Jiniraa’s ears were ringing, so she only caught parts of the conversation.

“-I got eyes on some guys. They look like Avatars, but they have full camo and gear. There’s six of them. Over.” A pause, waiting for his father’s response. Lo’ak hesitated with his response, knowing how much trouble he was in. “Uh, we’re at the old shack. Me, Spider, Kiri… and Tuk. Nira is with us too, she found us.”

Only the older two Sully children had earpieces in, but Jiniraa could imagine exactly what Jake was saying.

“See, I told you,” Kiri whispered to her brother, but her words barely registered in Jiniraa’s mind as she felt her protective side wash over her. She was going to make sure these kids stayed safe and got home. Bouncing Tuk higher on her back, they all started sneaking through the forest.

The kid’s were arguing amongst themselves, causing Jiniraa to turn around and snap at them her nerves at an all time high. In that exact moment, a body came out from the brush and ripped Tuk off her back. Tuk screamed as she reached out for Nira, who was already lunging at the enemy in response. 

Within a few seconds, about a dozen blue bodies emerged from their hiding places, all with guns raised at the children. Nira did her best to push everyone behind her. In accordance with Jake’s lessons, they all lowered their weapons, knowing resisting and showing aggression was a surefire way to get killed. 

Everyone was grabbed and forced into submission. The male who grabbed Jiniraa kicked out at her bad leg, forcing her to grit her teeth together. She wanted to scream out in pain as the fire spread within, but she wouldn’t give the aggressors that satisfaction. 

Tuk was screaming out for Kiri. The sound made Jiniraa’s heart rate pick up exponentially, both in fear and anger. The adrenaline began pumping through her veins. She did a once over of everyone, making eye contact to give some reassurance that everything would be okay. It partially was a lie, for she did not know if everything certainly was going to be okay. Lying was bad, but she saw how it momentarily calms everyone down. 

She wasn’t a warrior. Hell, she wasn’t even a fighter. She was easily the shortest fully-grown woman in the clan and she walked with a persistent limp. She had no chance against these people, muscles and hardware on display, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying her damndest.

“What have we here?” 

Next Part - Two: Eyes Cannot Lie

●●●

i hope you enjoyed :))) 

cross-posting on ao3 at beanswolo!

[hermit-pride]

Day: 10. Not very certain about my sexual orientation or status, if you will. I have never had a strong libido with my schizoid traits playing a key role. Sex was always a physical only thing. I remember a one night stand that I had. It was wonderful, out in nature among giant trees. Couldn't be more perfect. But I couldn't wait to get her home and leave even though she invited me in for (thirds). But I was 22 and that was so many years ago.

My wife haven't been intimate in at least ten years. And the decade before that wasn't much better. Not for lack of eagerness on her part. But she is old school and feels that if a guy doesn't initiate it's because he doesn't want it.

I am repelled by intimacy. I have, however had sex with myself once or twice a week. Not imagining someone I know as a partner, just that surge forward to ring the bell and renew my dopamine levels. I do not have sexy dreams or fantasize about sex. I don't recall being sexually attracted to another in a very long time.

But I am attracted to females intellectually. Case in point, I belonged to a gymn for a while. I would ride the exercise bikes, and hope she would show up, and then hit the steam room and shower before going to work. Let's call her Pam.

The room that is set up for exercise bikes is glassed in and the lights were always off, unless a class was in progress. Pam would come in and do a few stretches on the mats then hop on her favorite bike. Always the second from the front in the left side if facing out. She would start slow, then increase her speed. She would never sprint. After she warmed up, she would stand up while not breaking her pedalling pace and let go of the handle bars. It was graceful and pure magic!

She would ride standing for a good while then settle back into the seat. It was a dance; a thing of utter beauty and she seemed unaware that she had an audience. The process would be repeated two more times. I was pedalling in the back of the same room and could mostly only see her silhouette.

I was only able to see the solo act seven or eight times. And then I never saw her again. She would towel off then leave. I wanted to see her face. But to do so would give everything away. I marveled at her beauty of movement. But never had any lust for her.

Also, I have worked for and with dozens of managers in my nursing career but none have been held in higher esteem than my current manager. Not even close. She is the nicest (can be firm when needed but has the uncanny ability to make you somehow feel good when she provides corrective criticism). She was voted nurse of the year 2022 at which time she was also divorcing her husband. She is raising two young children, mostly by herself, she manages an ER with over 100 staff not including physicians, residents and advance practice nurses. OBTW she is at this time completing her master's degree. My word, did I leave anything out?

She is also pretty but I don't think she knows it. She reminds me of a 5'8" version of Julie Dreyfus. When she asks you to do something, there is no question. It gets done.

So she is my professional "crush". She is destined for advancement. I will miss her and remember her fondly.

So, am I asexual even though I have solo sex with no real person in mind? Or is it something else? And as you might guess I may be aromantic as well. I enjoy reading about romance occasionally but think that it is for me, unattainable. I've tried to be romantic with my wife, compliment her, bring her flowers, rub her feet. But it all feels so contrived and doesn't last. I'm a shit husband. But on the other hand I take good care of all her needs and can't imagine life without her 🤍💛.

[justagirlwhowritess]

Song: Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (this man's album has my HEART). Lyrics in Bold

Pairing: Dabi x Fem! Reader (flashbacks in italics) (y/h/n = your hero name)

Genre: Angsty

Warning: Toxic Relationship, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, season 6 spoiler.

I'm remembering I promised to forget you now

But it's raining, and I'm calling drunk

And my medicine is drowning your perspective out

So I ain't taking any fault

Am I honest still? Am I half the man I used to be?

I doubt it, forget about it, whatever

It's all the same, anyways

Dabi’s POV:

“I can’t do this anymore Touya!” she cried covering her hands with her face. I hate seeing her cry. “What do you mean?” The words caught her by surprise. She laughed. “I’m done. Get your shit, get out and forget about me. I can’t deal with you anymore.” her words burned. I felt the fire bubble through my chest, taking a breath as my hand started to ignite. “I will forget you. That’s a fucking promise, doll.” I spat storming out of the apartment we once shared. 

Fuck I was drunk. Sitting in the dark alleyway, fumbling between the bottle and the phone that was shattered. Thoughts from years ago plagued my thoughts. I hadn’t forgotten about her. How could I? I dialed the number I had memorized many years ago. She has had over a decade to change it, to move on. “Hello?” Her sweet voice came through the speaker. She didn’t know the number. Being a villain has its perks I guess. “I miss you.” I slurred into the phone. She groaned. “This, again?” I couldn't see her but I can tell that she is pinching the bridge of her nose. “You don’t miss me. You’re drunk Toyua.” She hung up. This isn’t my fault. She kicked me out. It wasn’t the first time. Wouldn’t be the last. I dialed the number once more. It went to voicemail. I drunkenly tried to collect my thoughts. “Y/n please answer the phone. Do you still think I'm honest? Half the man I was when we were growing up? Please pick up.” I finished the bottle and struggled to open the other, shoving the phone into my pocket. I’m not letting this go. I’m not forgetting her.

I ain't proud of all the punches that I've thrown

In the name of someone I no longer know

For the shame of being young, drunk, and alone

Traffic lights and a transmitter radio

I don't like that when they threw me in the car 

I gave your name as my emergency phone call

Honey, it rang and rang even the cops thought you were wrong for hanging up

I dial drunk, I'll die a drunk, I'd die for you

“Touya, leave him alone, he didn’t do anything!” She was trying to stop me from beating the shit out of her prom date. I had dumped her about a month ago and she dared to take someone else. He got handsy and I couldn’t control myself. She looked like she needed saving. “No. You asked him to stop. He didn’t.” I spat, throwing another punch. Wouldn’t be the first time I've thrown a punch for this girl and it wouldn’t be the last. “Touya please, that's enough. I’ll go with you, just please let’s get out of here.” She pleaded. I took her hand in mine, the mascara was running down her face. I ruined her night, I can tell, but she would never admit it.

Looking back I probably could have controlled myself better, considering I hardly know her anymore. I stood, stumbling and made my way down the street to her apartment, or the league, whichever was close. “Stop” A booming voice called. Cops fuck. I tried to get away, feeling more drunk than I had just a moment ago. I ended up in the backseat of the car. “Hey, shithead, don't I get a phone call?” I cursed. He grunted but obliged anyway. “Who do you wanna call, asshole?” he spat. “Y/h/n” I mumbled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “You want me to call a pro hero to come pick your drunken, villain ass up?” He asked. I nodded shuffling to get my phone out of my pocket to give him the number. “She’s my emergency contact. She always will be.” I huffed. He put the phone on speaker, it rang and rang. “Hello?” the voice gumbled tiredly. I must have woken her up. “Y/n. I need you to come get me, I got locked up. Please.” I hiccuped, the car starting to spin. “Fuck you, Dabi. I hope you fucking rot.” She spat and hung up. “Damn dude, that’s cold. What did you do to her?” The cop laughed. I shook my head. “Too much..Let me call her again.” I spat once we reached the station. The cop begrudgingly agreed. The phone rang and rang. She wasn’t picking up this time.

I'm untethering from the parts of me you'd recognize

From charming to alarming in seconds

I'll be bedridden, and I'll let the pain metastasize

But that's morning, I'll forget it

And the dial tone is all I have

“It’s like I don’t even recognize you anymore!” She pleaded with me as I had gotten locked up again. She came to pick me up without complaint again and again. “Doll, do we have to do this now?” I grunted. “Yes. We do.” She was curt, shoving me into the passenger seat, I drunkenly stumbled but sat anyway, feeling the hangover start to settle in. “Doll, I can’t even see straight.” I hiccuped. She rolled her eyes. “You always do this. I tried to ignore it but I can’t anymore. It’s becoming alarming.” Her tone softened, rubbing the back of my burned hand with her soft thumb. She sighed. “We have to talk about it eventually, Touya.” her words lingered in the air, only to be forgotten in the morning.

The dial tone is all I get of her now. I miss her screaming at me to be a better person. 

I'd die for you

I beg you, sir, just let me call

I'll give you my blood alcohol

I'll rot with all the burnouts in the cell

I'll change my faith I'll praise the flag

Let's wait I swear she'll call me back

"Son, are you a danger to yourself?"

Fuck that, sir just let me call

I'll give you my blood alcohol

I'll rot with all the burnouts in the cell

I'll change my faith I'll kiss the badge

Let's wait I swear she'll call me back

"Son, why do you do this to yourself?"

“Give me one more call. I don’t want to sit in this fucking cell all night.” I spat in an almost pleading tone. I would change it all for her. “We need your blood alcohol to come down before we release you, but we can’t check because you threaten to burn us alive if we get close.” The cop’s attitude had returned. “Let me call her, I will let you have my blood alcohol. I'll even sit in the cell with the rest of these idiots. Just let me call her one more time.” I sounded fucking pathetic, but I knew I could ware her down. She would crumble and come and get me, like she used to. The alcohol has my head swirling but I know I can convince her to come get me, she still loves me, she’s loved me forever. I love her. The cop sighs and hands me my phone. Drunkenly I dial her number for the 5th or 6th time tonight. No answer. I sighed holding the phone to my chest. She will call back. “Son, are you going to hurt yourself?” The cop asked, I felt my burnt tear ducts try to do something. Let’s not cry blood right now. “No. Don’t be fucking stupid. She’s gonna call me back.” The cop rolled his eyes. “Give me the phone. Why do you do this to yourself?” I shook my head, refusing orders, adding that to the charge list with being drunk and disorderly. “She will call me back.” I said with more confidence. Thankfully, she didn’t make me out to be a liar. “Y/n” I picked up on the second ring. “What police station are you at?” She demanded. I smirked, I knew I would get her to crumble. She always has. I gave her the location. “Give me 10 minutes.” She hung up before I could respond. 

The 10 minutes were achingly slow, until she appeared, disheveled, hair a mess, in pajamas, last night's makeup hadn’t been washed off her face, she had been crying, over me, again. She looked beautiful. “Is he free to go, officer?” She asked curtly. The cop looked shocked. “Uh yeah, just keep him inside the rest of the evening.” He unlocked the cell. I was more sober now than when I had gotten here just hours ago. “Get in the fucking car, Dabi.” “Yes ma’am.” I replied, moving past her outside of the station. I got in the car and she just stared at me. “I love you y/n” I whispered, cupping her cheek. “I love you Touya.”

I dial drunk, I'll die a drunk, I'd die for you

[incredibly-delirious-biznasty]

I’m only going to weigh in on this once because all the hate is really bumming me out and I need to air out some thoughts.

I know you have all picked up on the themes of all this new music from our Emo Forebears. I will use My Chem as an example because I think they’re the most poignant example:

Think about their musical content up till this point. It’s about suffering and feeling misunderstood and we all loved it because we felt seen. My Chem had the reputation of being the Suicidal Girl band since long before it was seen as anything other than cringe. If you didn’t live through this time; if you have never experienced the feeling of “fuck it I’m gonna live like I’ll never see 30 because I’ll be dead long before then” it may be hard to understand just how special Foundations is.

You Must Fix Your Heart

The resurfacing of these emo bands are all the grown ass adults who were once barely out of their teens, saw a bunch of fucked up shit, many of them nearly died or were very near people who did, and here we are, decades later, still just living.

At a certain point, it’s fix yourself or give up. By give up I mean die. It’s heal or die.

So here we have a bunch of now adult musicians who have been through it, fixed themselves and are now thriving. They have an opportunity to share this wisdom with all those other young people who were just like the. The now-adult fans have done their own growing and fixing. It’s a beautiful thing, really.

Now consider Panic!

Yes, the ‘09 split was the end of the “real” PATD. However, Brendon and Spencer decided they wanted to keep trying. They loved making music, who could blame them for trying to a carry on the way they saw fit?

The transition between Vices and Virtues and Too Weird to Live is very important to the point I am trying to illustrate here.

The whole band was heavy into drugs. Spencer almost died from an overdose. Brendon even said in a statement about the state of the band that he didn’t realize that his friend was so deep into his addiction because he was fine. He admitted his shortcoming and I believe this incident was a serious realization and turning point for Brendon.

The tone between VaV and TWTLTRTD is markedly different. (Don’t @me about Dallon ok? That’s a whole different can of worms and y’all get too insane about that shit. If you’re ready for the real talk you can look up the legal credit given for writing on both those records and bring me the receipts, but most of y’all are not ready for that one yet) There is a turn toward the positive here that progresses throughout the “Shambling Corpse” solo albums.

Brendon was trying to find his positive growth while still doing what he loved, because unlike many others in the genre, it wasn’t about to kill him.

Now take a step back and look at the last, oh, let’s just say, half a decade. The amount of negativity, harassment, personal privacy invasion, along with all the other shit the internet has thrown at him. As stated previously: the majority of these controversies have been proven to be false. Brendon has stated many times that he doesn’t want to be famous. He wants to be able to be himself again and live his life without being harassed (whether it’s positive or negative intention)

He needs this break. He needs to heal. It tracks that the other bands that broke earlier are back with a new outlook, they had years to figure their shit out, one way or another.

Brendon hung around and has been being ground down to nothing in the public eye for nearly two decades.

I’m glad he’s finally taking his turn.

(If you’re interested in learning more about why Brendon was “cancelled” here is an excellent master list)

[crossingbaranduin]

Well, this was supposed to go on Discord... and then I wrote so many words that I broke the character limit. So, dumping it here instead!

TAJ headcanons post: Johnson brothers + their nicknames! (Light spoilers for entire series)

Mike: Okay, as much as I am a sucker for tiny!Anders calling Mike "Mikey" in the smattering of deaged!Anders fics on AO3, I had a thought the other night. From what we see in the show, by the time Anders would start talking, there isn't anyone in their lives who would likely call Mike anything but Mikkel. Both their parents solely use Mike's full name, and they're so young that they probably aren't interacting with anyone who'd call Mike something different than what their parents use. (Even Olaf calls Mike Mikkel a decent amount during the show, so if/when he'd visit during this period, it's unlikely he'd be the odd one out here.)

If Anders only knows Mike as Mikkel at this point, I doubt he'd be able to say Mike's full name at first, since Mikkel is a bit complicated to pronounce for a kid just learning how to speak. So… proposal that tiny!Anders' attempts to say Mikkel came out more as "Mik", and that's what stuck. Only gets used for a couple of years, and Ty/Axl never pick it up, since Mike has already started to go by Mike at that point. Gets used on very, very few occasions post-show once everyone's on better terms for the same reason as Andy below, with the additional caveat that Anders opts not to use it if it's not just him and Mike talking.

Anders: Two different degrees of nicknames here. Name is slightly shortened to "Ands" on occasion, mostly by Mike and Ty. Stemmed from their teenage years, stopped being used when Anders was estranged from the family, and slowly worked its way back in over time. Becomes more common post-show when everyone's on better terms again. However, Anders' original nickname was "Andy", started by Mike when Anders was very young. Lasted for a good chunk of their younger years + was also picked up by Ty when he started talking; stopped being used sometime mid-late elementary school. Not used at all for multiple decades; used on very, very rare occasions once everyone is on better terms — means either there's a rare emotionally open moment or shit has hit the fan horribly.

(PS: Dawn is also allowed to use both nicknames. She tries not to abuse said power so Anders won't get defensive about it, but Anders secretly likes it.)

Ty: Solely goes by his nickname; doesn't like being called Tyrone. Put up with their mom using it, but that's the extent of it. None of his siblings have ever called him anything but Ty; even when the brothers are arguing, using Ty's full name is off limits. (Mike did once, very early on into being Ty's guardian. The situation was immediately made ten times worse, and that was never repeated again.) Dawn also only calls him Ty.

Axl: Never really needed a nickname due to how short his name is, and there were no younger siblings to struggle with pronouncing things. However, tiny!Axl felt left out being the only sibling without a nickname, so Anders and Ty occasionally call him "Ax", though that's less of a nickname and them half-dropping a syllable while saying his name out loud. Zeb, however, has given him a litany of goofy nicknames — so many that nobody but Zeb remembers all of them. (Axl may roll his eyes at most of them, but he'd miss the hell of out them if Zeb ever stopped.)

[littlehen]

so I had my last day in my old job!

I wasn't expecting anything, but actually my colleagues all signed a card and I got loads of hugs and they clubbed together to get me a nice leaving gift. I felt very surprised and touched. Lots of people said 'we'll miss you / don't be a stranger / gosh things are going to fall apart round here without you haha'. Also some colleagues gave me little gifts individually which all had text on that said 'believe in yourself' or 'be brave' or 'you forget how awesome you are - so here's a reminder!' so that's quite revealing about how I come across, lol

It's a bit weird, I'm not sad and I'm not excited/worried about the next thing, but that's more because emotions tend to take a while to creep up on me, I'll probably feel something next week.

the strange thing was when my boss gathered everyone round ('I'm going to embarrass you for a moment!') to give a little speech about how I'd be missed and thanking me for my hard work over the years, and I couldn't stop thinking, 'But I am leaving specifically because of you. If you'd said any of this over the past decade, anything positive at all, if you hadn't spent two hours non-stop criticising me in my last performance review (and blaming me for your mistakes!) then I wouldn't be moving on.' (Although I also kind of have to thank him, because I'd come to the conclusion that if he could manage a team then literally anyone could do it, so I might as well give it a go)

the loveliest thing was when I got a text from my young colleague who I've been sort of mentoring. She wished me luck and said 'I wanted to thank you for all the support and guidance you've given me,' which was so nice because she's only 18 and it was such a professional message and I just felt really proud of her, she's come so far. I've made a really conscious effort to be a supportive and encouraging team leader for her and all the youngsters.

Personally, I've had to put up with so many shit managers over the years, or be trained by dickheads who get annoyed if you ask questions or need something repeated, or constantly belittle you and then call it banter. (Not to mention, my first boss who regularly used to pat my bum, and he was still a more competent manager than the one I've just left.) And I was just like, 'but what if it doesn't have to be that way?' So I've always told the young ones not to be afraid to ask questions, and assured them that I fully expect them to forget parts of the training, that's totally normal and all part of learning, and I won't mind standing nearby while they do a process and being available to step in if they get stuck. etc etc. Things I wish anyone had said to me when I was starting out, instead of making me feel small and worried all the time. And also trusting them to make decisions and asking them what they think, praising them for good work and thanking them for hard work. Or if they get it wrong, explaining why it's wrong and how to get better, rather than just telling them off. (Just: doing the opposite of every interaction I've ever had with my boss, lol) And watching that approach work, and seeing the young ones gain confidence - that gave me the confidence to try applying for a promotion. So yeah, it was really great to get that text from her, it meant a lot to me.

I think what's going to be weird, and really hard, is my new work pattern, Monday to Friday, office hours. For 10 years I've always worked at weekends and my days off were random weekdays. I haven’t worked five days in a row with two days off, not for years. I haven’t had to deal with shops and supermarkets at busy weekends. I’m not used to worrying about sorting out work clothes and packed lunches for a five day stretch. And I have to be in the office every day by 8.15am, which is a scary prospect for a night owl insomniac. So I think that’s what I’m most apprehensive about, more than about how I’m going to get on in the job. oh, and meeting 45 new colleagues ��� All change

[brunchbitch]

Update of sorts

Just got through my first week of classes (second to last semester!) and I’m not crazy about 2 out of 3 professors, but oh well. All of them seem like hard asses and tough graders so that’ll be interesting. I’m jealous that so many of my classmates are graduating in May but the trade off was a much more manageable fall schedule. Idk.

I’ve been doing well-ish with cutting down on weed. A couple weeks ago right after the new year I tried to go back to my schedule of no weed during the week (well… really just Tuesday through Thursday lmao) but I had AWFUL trauma dreams and it really affected my mood. So last week I didn’t do as well, though definitely less smoking in the week. This week I took edibles Tuesday night bc I wanted to make sure I would sleep well before my internship, but I didn’t have anything Wednesday or Thursday night. I had some fucked up weird dreams for sure BUT they weren’t directly trauma related so definitely easier to handle. It’s definitely an ongoing challenge but I’m hoping I’ll get used to this schedule and it’ll just become second nature.

Therapy with B is good - we’re now switching to every other week! NEVER thought I wouldn’t be in weekly therapy!! I was worried my behaviors would escalate bc I’m scared of “getting better” and being seen as not sick, but so far so good and it’s helpful to be aware of it.

My parents are coming out next weekend and my mom and I are going wedding dress shopping!!!! Crazy!!!! But we still have 554 days until the wedding so I have plenty of time. This will be more to get a sense of what styles/silhouettes I like. It’s gonna be surreal to look in the mirror with a wedding dress on. Hoping my mom isn’t too opinionated if we disagree lol.

I can’t remember if I have said this on here yet but A and I have decided to move to Seattle in august! I’m soooo excited but also nervous to be close to my family again. A also feels conflicted about it but we’ll take it one day at a time and it doesn’t necessarily need to be permanent. It feels a little silly career wise to leave Boston which is a city with such amazing hospitals and go to Seattle which has one level one trauma center, but I might want to work in a specialized outpatient clinic anyway. I would NOT want to work in an ED so maybe it doesn’t really matter. I think it would be really cool to be a medical social worker in an outpatient cancer clinic working with young adults, though I know that’s very specific and I’m not sure exactly what’s available out there. I’ve started to look at jobs just to get a sense, but obviously I’ll have to study for and pass my licensing exam first. I would love to take more Spanish classes while I’m working on that. I miss it!

Overall things are really good. I keep waiting for shit to hit the fan but idk… weed plus A plus a meaningful internship (last year too) has led to such a long period of stability (well long for me lol). A and I were talking about how at the end of this decade he will be 43 (!!!) and I’ll be 39. I started thinking about my life seven years ago at 24 and it feels like I was a completely different person. I would’ve laughed in your face if you told me I would be where I am today. Idk. It’s weird. I worry that one day I’ll relapse with my depression bc I genuinely feel… happy? So it’s kind of easier to not use behaviors. But if I felt depressed and hopeless, things might be very different. I guess I have to remind myself to take it one day at a time.

Edit: I also started on propranolol a couple months ago and WOW has it made a difference in my anxiety especially at my internship. I feel like I’ve worked really hard to work on the mental distortions, but the physical aspect of the anxiety has just been so tricky. After taking neurobiology last summer, I really am recognizing that trauma can have such long term effects on your body.

[tousey-mousy]

Gentiles do not fucking Get that like... Jews have thousands (literally) of years of intergenerational trauma around Not Having A Homeland. Like, there has never once been a place, since the destruction of the Temple, where Jews were unambiguously welcome. Where Jews were not present explicitly on sufferance, with the clear and present understanding that this sufferance WAS limited. Not "might be" limited. Not "could be limited if a new leader gets into power". Literally just was ALWAYS, FOREVER limited. Jews were NEVER going to be welcomed, and they were never going to be tolerated for long.

So, Jewish culture is a long list of, "be subject to another genocide > survivors move to a new country > survivors are tolerated as a small but taxable minority > survivors become relatively successful > new country suddenly sees Jews as a source of easily-stolen wealth and nobody else around them will care because it's just the fucking k*kes like who gives a shit if we kill 'em > be subject to a new genocide". That's just how Jewish culture has been for centuries. For millennia. Over 2,000 years of knowing that you have nowhere and no-one in your corner.

So, Jews everywhere - yes, even anti-Zionist ones like me - have this like... ingrained cultural fear that, at some point, our time will run out again, and a corresponding desire to see Israel survive because while it survives, so do we. Our stay of execution in the diaspora has never lasted for long. We've never had more than a few decades of acceptance. It's literally one of the reasons my family moved countries: we wanted to get a new citizenship under our belts because my dad wasn't convinced we'd be safe if we only had one. We always need somewhere to run to.

Israel is... not just the fulfilment of a promise, it's survival. To so many Jews, there's a profound lack of trust in anyone else to protect us. We have NEVER been able to rely on anyone else before, why start now? Israel views all outsiders as either threats, or potential threats. That's because historically, that has always been true for Jews. Everyone was either an active threat, or simply a potential threat. Nobody was safe. Never.

It's another reason why Jews, especially Orthodox Jews, cling to their traditions so tightly: it's the one thing they can't take away from us. They can take our land, they can take our homes, they can take our lives, but they can't take our Jewishness. So we hold onto all the little pieces we can hold onto, and if we're forced into hiding then we take those things with us even when we forget why we do them.

I am Sephardi, not Ashkenazi. My ancestors were from Spain and Portugal and North Africa, and fled the Spanish Inquisition when it came hunting for Christians who didn't pray right and Jews who didn't convert. My ancestors ran, but not everyone did. Some people converted, truly and honestly, and became Christians... but many others converted in name only. They put up statuettes of the saints, and they kept them nice and shiny and pretty for when the Inquisition came knocking, and under the floorboards they kept the Hanukkah lights and the Torah scrolls. They learnt the Bible, they told their children to say they were good Catholics, and they never ate pork and they used all the old spices and they kept their day of rest on "Saturday" by just shifting the calendar around so that everyone else's Sunday was their own Saturday. They spoke their own language at home - as Ashkenazim have Yiddish, we have Ladino - and they raised their children to be fluent in both tongues to keep the ways safe.

And... those kids? The ones raised to say they were Catholic? They grew up. And many parents took the attitude that, in order to protect them from slipping up, they would never tell the children the name "Jew". They would never tell them what they themselves truly were, because children are young and stupid and don't know how to keep a secret. Their identities were safest if they were kept safe even from themselves, and many of those parents died before they got a chance to tell the children who and what they were. Many others were told, but chose to continue the lies, and raised their own children the same way. They raised them to never know the name "Jew", but to keep their homes Kosher, to follow the Mitzvah, to light a candle in the window and to observe their day of rest. They attended their Masses, they read Latin and venerated the saints, and in all respects they were the model Catholics... but they never stopped practising the old ways.

And this never stopped.

And so, we get the crypto-Jews of Spain and Portugal, the Sephardis who do not know they are Sephardis. They still, centuries later, speak a "strange dialect" that people around them do not understand and they themselves could not tell you where it comes from. In the middle of a Spanish town where preserved bacon and hams are everywhere, you will find no pork in their butchers. They still light their lamps, they still pray before entering their homes, and they do not know why.

You can kill the Jews, but you can't kill the Jewishness. They could erase even the name, but could not erase the history and the culture.

And... that's just normal for Jews. That's not even that rare, this is just my little slice of Jewish history. Crypto-Jews are everywhere, from every tradition, and it's because of how fucking common it was to just up and fucking slaughter Jews that some families decided, "we will not let this be how our culture dies. We will find another way."

Israel represents, to so so many Jews, the promise to never need to do that again. To never again need to tell your children to "say that you are Catholic". The promise to never need to hide the Torah under the floorboards where the mice can shit on it. It represents a place where not just Jewishness but open Jewishness will survive. Where not just culture but people will survive. Where children can be told literally what fucking ethnicity they actually ARE.

So

Yeah. This is not something people fucking understand. Israel isn't going to stop this, because to them Palestine will ALWAYS represent an existential threat. Palestine's very name on others' tongues represents a threat, because it means that once again Jews are not welcome in their own homeland. I cannot stress enough - and it sickens me that I have to say this, but I do - that I do not actually agree with this stance? Like, the state of Israel as it currently exists is a colonialist nightmare-state that is built largely or entirely off stolen land and oppressed people. But like... I understand the reasons why the Jews involved feel motivated to do this. To them, this is existential. Palestine's very name is seen as a danger.

When Zionists say "to be pro-Palestinian is to be anti-Semitic", they aren't being like... facetious? They're not saying "oh, this is a great way to get people off-kilter!" They sincerely believe it, because to them it is existentially threatening Israel, and threatening Israel means that you are, once again, trying to kick Jews out of their only home. Zionists believe that Israel is a necessary precondition to Jews being seen as equal or safe, so threatening Israel is anti-Semitic, and being pro-Palestinian is threatening Israel.

I was raised anti-Zionist and I still absorbed this shit. Imagine how the pro-Zionists were raised.

jesus fucking christ

[girlrottingsince2001]

it's sad that being late diagnose autistic and having everyone* gaslight my autoimmune conditions for a decade because they've been so misunderstood for so long (even with all the massive amounts of information coming out on all my conditions in the last 5 or so years people still don't wanna take it seriously) that I obsess over these false ideas of being a "good human" that aren't as important as being a "good person".

being a "good human" is ableist and about our mechanical and cognitive abilities. being a "good person" is about doing our best be respectful and understanding of others and doing what we believe and know is right even when we we may have disabilities and struggles that make it hard to function in social dynamics and society.

it's hard to let go of the internalized ideas of I'm a failure or putting ideas of morality on my meltdowns. it's hard to not feel like I'm broken garbage. I would never feel that way about anyone else who is autistic or disabled in any other way but that internalized trauma of not being truly recognized as a disabled person with my cognitive disabilities (autism, adhd, complex ptsd) and my physical ones and instead being labeled as "weak", "failure", "making it up", "attention whore", "faking it", "manipulative", and so much more.

There were many people from childhood to early adulthood that did recognize my disabilities, but not with compassion, they looked at me "useless garbage taking up space" and "polluting the world". they believed people like me should be aborted or euthanized for being disabled and not being useful enough to society.

Although I think all this shit is wrong and false. I was so programmed to hate myself and not even recognize myself as disabled. A lot of what I've learned is disability I associated with just being stupid or useless and other harmful shit because everyone* around me did.

In meltdowns and complex ptsd episodes or any other time I'm struggling with metacognition it's hard to recognize that these things are disability symptoms and to have compassion with myself without falling back into those old timelines of being told I should hate and blame myself for being a "bad human". It's hard to remind myself that I am disabled not a pos and that I am still worthy of love.

it sucks because I don't have these beliefs of other disabled people, because I've never believed or agreed with this shit. But the problem is my image of self and having internalized the ableist trauma shit for almost 2 decades before I was finally validated for my cognitive and physical disablities. Even when I had diagnosis or all the symptoms of my disabilities (like going above and beyond minimal requirement for diagnosis) I was gaslight by professionals and doctors for my age. Which is inane because you'd think that with me being so young and being physically disabled they'd take it seriously ??? but no. and if doctors did take it seriously they'd be like you're too young for any treatment options but then gaslight me for my falls and needing a cane at 17.

My disabilities have often been framed as some kind of "choice" or "attempt for attention" – which is so fucking hilarious to me considering I HATE BEING PERCEIVED AND WOULD LOVE TO DISAPPEAR.

but not being able to recognize and validate the fact that I am cognitively and physically disabled for about 2 decades really fucked up myself worth and image of self, and it kept me stuck in cycle of internalized ableism without even realizing because I didn't even know it was ableism. Sometimes I still forget. I think the reason I've had such a completely different view of my own disabilities and others with disabilities is I recognize others as legitimately being disabled while gaslighting myself on being disabled at all because other people did it so much. and being undiagnosed autistic we fall into masking of letting everyone else define who we are and what we should be in order to survive in normie culture. So until finding people who love and accept me for my disabilities I haven't been able to even accept I am disabled until the last year really. And accepting I am disabled is the key to loving myself. I don't think there's anything wrong with being disabled. but when I can't recognize I am disabled, it becomes about some other idea of "morality" on myself that I was trained to develop through trauma. and it's hard because in these rougher states I fall backwards and the people who love me try to validate that I am disabled and there's nothing wrong with it. But I don't even think it's disability, I equate it to some of there idea of being a "good human" because trauma.

I honestly want to draft this like most my expressions of self but I also know that I need to for myself be open with the struggles of being disabled because I believe it's important for disabled people to share our stories and struggles and to be seen in the world. and I need to stop being ableist to myself like I never would be to others.

but being seen and being disabled is often traumatic. because you're seen through a lens of ableism and other misperceptions, rather than being seen for the reality of your multitudes and who you are as a disabled person.

(I hope my grammar is right and this says what I mean, I just got out of a meltdown and needed to rant and brain not doing so good)

[truly-morgan]

[Retrouvail, JC helping WWX out]

Shuangjie | Mo Dao Zu Shi cw: mention of not eating enough 07-07-2021

[#shuangjie (potential xiancheng) retrouvail / reconciliation, modern] (cw: mention of not eating enough)

the classic wwx modern move where he gets in trouble with the wen (or maybe the wen helped him out so now he has to pay back). And of course, wwx cannot trouble the jiang after all they did for him all these years, so the best he can do is pack his thing a disappear. Jc of course tries to contact him and wwx answer to him each time for a while when he can, reassuring him that he simply needs time to deal with something.

When he's not in front of jc it is easier to lie about how things are going, about how things should soon be settled. He tries to tell himself he's only half-lying since he doesn't know for how long he will be stuck with this debt, but he knows it's not true.

So he tries to reassure jc who only gets more angry, worried and anxious after each call, as if the one they have would be the last.

jc does try to reason with him, but it doesn't work, so he settles for messages and calls, where he asks for wwx to at least write to him once a day, to make sure he is alright and well (he also lies to himself when he decides to believe wwx when the young man says everything is fine).

but then, after nearly a year of doing this stupid game, jc gets an unusual call from wwx and something in his guts tell him that something is /wrong/ and he starts to panic when wwx voice gets a bit tighter. "A-cheng, stay safe and take care of jiejie for me okay? I... I'll be okay, don't panic, just... stay safe for me so I don't worry... Don't come looking for me now, I need you safe"

Jc tries to talk him out of whatever stupid shit wwx will do, asks him to tell him where he is, that he'll go get him and they /will/ find a way. "Wei Ying! You promised me to be by my side, are you going to go back on your words?" he asks shakily, desperate to make wwx change his mind.

wwx does pause at that. He really wants to reconsider what he needs to do to get rid of his debt, but people are now coming for him and he can't stay longer. "I am sorry a-cheng" he whispered into the phone before hanging up and shutting down his phone.

after that, there's nothing from him. Jc did try to call him many times after, tried calling anyone he knew had been friend (or at least, acquaintance) of wwx, yet no one knew anything, wwx had basically burned all bridges months ago, and only jc was left from his life.

and now even jc wasn't able to contact him. He did all he could, but nothing worked and he didn't even have an idea /where/ he could search.

jfm did give a hand at first (after all /it was/ wwx who had disappear) but even he gave up after nothing could be found, only rendering jyl and jc more worried from the lack of /anything/.

Then things got distracted when jyl pregnancy got farther and soon jl was a source of attention (but jyl could never forget about wwx, and neither could jc). but of course, some calm couldn't stay for long and tragedy followed another. jc basically lost his last family, left with a poor baby who would grow up with only an anxious uncle who could only do his best and probably never as good as his parents.

It was really hard for jc, to raise jl alone while going to college so he could find a good job and take better care of his nephew. He really hoped that he could have wwx by his side, even in the worst of time the man could find ways to make it seems a bit less worst.

But he wasn't here and he had to power through it alone.

So taking care of jl took away from searching for wwx, although the man never fully left his mind, when he saw a similar face he would stop, only to realise it is not him.

It was hard, but he managed and still kept the hope that wwx was somewhere safe at least.

Then a bit more than a decade passed by so quickly.

Jc had moved to a new city with jl for a better job opportunity (which mean better money for them). It also seemed to be good with jl, as the boy seemed to have had difficulties with other students, despite jc trying to change that.

This is why he was more than happy to see that he had managed to make friends more easily this time and was growing close to three lively young men.

He was more than happy to have them stay over for dinner when they came to play or do homework.

wy had caught his attention a bit, as he was clearly coming from a poorer background (clearly ljy parents weren't low on money and oyz parents seemed to be doing comfortably).

He did ask jl if he knew more about it, wanting to make sure the young man was alright after all, it did happen often for him to stay until rather late before his dad came to pick him up (or even just go back home alone).

jl simply said that wy had told them his dad had off working hours, hence why he would stay until late, so he was not home alone. of course, jc is more than happy to let the young man stay until late or overnight if needed, but he does worry about his dad's situation (especially since he seems single).

but the way wy talks to him over the phone, the man seems to really care about him, so this does reassure him a bit.

Yet he is curious about who the man is, after all, even when he comes to pick him up, he doesn't come to the door and wait in the car.

jl told him wy dad was alright, clearly, life had been hard on their little family, but he was overall doing his best and treating them right when they were over (though he could be a bit annoying sometimes).

Then one time, as wy was to stay overnight to do a group project, his dad came to bring him something he had forgotten back home. "Wen Yuan, your dad is here, he's coming to the door" jl warned as he saw the car park in the driveway and the man getting out (for once) to the door.

wy then went to the door for him, jc was cooking when he heard that, a bit curious as to who the man was, but decided to finish cutting his vegetable first before looking.

But then he heard the voice.

"A-yuan forgot his school bag at home before coming over for a school project?" teased a very familiar voice. jc couldn't have bolted for the hallway as fast as he did, stopping net in his track when his gaze landed on the dark figure in the doorway.

it's was so sudden both wy and his dad jump, before wwx froze when he saw him. "Wei Ying", the name escaping his lips.

"Jiujiu, you know wy father?"/"Gege knows jl uncle?" ended up asking the teen, looking a bit confused as to what this was about.

yet wwx couldn't feel like he could do this right now, faking looking at the time on his none existent watch. "Ahah I have to go to work now, my boss won't be happy if I am late again today," he said as he was quickly retreating, not actually leaving time for jc to do anything other than stare at him in disbelief.

wwx was back and so close, yet he had no clue about this.

why didn't he tell him?

He had to wait until the next day if he wanted to have some answers, because he knew wwx would still come and pick up wy, he wouldn't leave him here for this.

Thought wwx did wait in the car like usual this time, but it was not enough to stop jc, of course. He simply stopped wy gently, telling him to wait inside for longer, before going out.

"Why don't you come inside for a minute?" he asked once he got to the car.

wwx wanted to refuse and find some bullshit reason, but he knew that look in jc eyes, it was the "I am not giving up so easily" look. He would probably get in the car if he needed to, so he decided going inside would be better.

wwx greeted jl when he came in, the two teens quickly understanding they needed to have a talk and leaving them space for it. "We'll hang out in my room" simply said jl as they went to his room.

This is how wwx was left alone in the kitchen with jc, sitting awkwardly at the table as some tea was being made. "Where were you?" jc asked as he leaned against the counter, staring at him.

Wwx didn't really want to reply to this. Could he really just admit he went to prison? And that afterwards he tried to just survive? He wasn't ready to know how jc would react to knowing he was now considered a criminal ("I guess the teachers were right" he laughed to himself more than once).

"You know... places" he replied vaguely, looking even more awkward and uncomfortable than before.

jc knew pushing on this one would lead nowhere, he had a vague idea of what wwx might have gotten himself in the past, he simply couldn't be sure which path it had taken. He even had a suspicion about the truth, but he understood he wouldn't have his confirmation now.

"Why didn't you contact me in all these years then?" he asked instead, which he felt was a valid question. Was he that untrustworthy? Was he not a good enough help for him?

wwx stopped himself from saying he actually did it one time, to see if jc still had the same phone number as in the past. It was late at night and he was missing jc even more than before, so he had dialled the number in the hope to talk a bit.

yet, when the tired voice of jc asking who it was he choked out of it and hung up, scared of /how/ he should get back in jc's life. At the end of it, he simply never actually found the courage to do it, staying out of jc's life, it would probably be easier for him especially with what he had heard had happened soon after he was put into jail, he really wishes he could have been by his side when it happened. How lonely and sad must jc have been when he lost everyone around him, leaving only a baby behind (which he was happy to see was doing good too).

But he also didn't want to be a burden for jc. His record was making things harder for him now, he wouldn't have wanted for jc to be affected by that too. Also, he didn't want to be a financial burden for jc, the man already had enough of taking care of himself and jl, he wouldn't have wanted to add himself.

"I... Didn't want to be a burden" he finally admitted, a sad smile on his lips, "You seem to have already a lot to take care of and a lot to go through, I didn't want to add to it".

this annoyed jc. Couldn't he decide by himself what /was/ a burden for him? He wouldn't have found wwx to be a burden, they would most likely have figured out a way to manage.

They ended up talking for a good part of the evening, wwx mostly answering questions about where he had been in the past years and what he had been doing (avoiding a couple of years gap directly after his last call to jc).

jc was a bit mad that wwx had put himself in this situation, but he was also glad that he had found him now. He was not going to let him disappear again and wanted to help him.

throughout this conversation, he had noticed that yes wwx was struggling with jobs and money, yet he had assured many times wy was alright.

"WQ actually help a bit, but I decided all the money goes for wy" had admitted wwx after jc asked. Sure, wy wasn't wearing the latest trend or the most expensive clothing, but they were in a better state than the one wwx had.

Also, wy looked like a healthy kid for the most part, having most likely never lacked the food he needed to grow well. yet wwx looked thinner than he should be. It wasn't sickly either, or he wouldn't be able to work as much as he does, but he was clearly not eating enough.

wwx did try to brush it off, saying he was simply eating too much in the past and this is why jc had this impression.

It took weeks of meeting here and there for jc to get a better grip of what exactly was the whole situation. Clearly, wwx was working as best as he could to get money. Part of it would go for what wy needed, which paired with the money wq was sending to help her nephew made it so wy could be more comfortable, where wwx would cut some things for himself just to make sure of that. He had even gotten some frustrated jokes about how he couldn't keep all his job for that long either once when wwx came back.

It also took many weeks for wwx to finally admit that he had indeed gone to jail. It had been a bit hard to talk about and he was clearly not ready to talk about what he might have seen and lived in prison, but jc was happy that he would tell him at least that.

wwx was only supposed to do three bigger jobs so a larger amount of his debt could be paid (honestly, sometimes he felt like it was never going to end).

But with his bad luck at the time, of course, things went horribly wrong and the other party ended up opening fire. "I-I... I killed someone, Jiang Cheng, I just wanted to scare him and protect myself, but I killed him" wwx said in a quiet voice, scared that jc would start hating him now.

It was truly an accident, he never went there in the idea that he would need to defend himself. He had been there for other transactions and everything went well, so he assumed it would be the same. Yet shit got really bad and he was cornered, he truly never wanted to injure the person to the point where they died of it quickly. luckily it was seen as self-defence despite the situation (maybe him giving the officer more information than needed also helped his situation, he felt lucky to not die in prison).

He was happy that he didn't get over 10 years in prison, but the time he did was already a lot.

When wwx was done talking he was tense, anxious and scared that this would be it, jc would definitely hate him now, jc was not one to really break the law (other than small mischief, all started by wwx when they were younger).

Yet jc didn't get mad at him. The man wasn't sure how he should react or see it, but he knew wwx would never have killed with intent. wwx might have changed a bit over the years and some part was a bit hard to recognise, but this was something he would always believe in. wwx was not necessarily a bad person and this was all in self-defence.

After that day they didn't go over that section of his life again, only mentioning his stay in prison from time to time when it was relevant. This was relevant once when jc went to pick up wwx after work once, seeing the man get out with a sour expression on his face. he did startle him when he called out to him asking what was wrong.

"Got fired because I did something wrong, they probably just figured out I have a record, wouldn't be the first time anyway". It was hard keeping a stable job where someone was ready to really give him a chance without waiting to kick him out to the slightest inconvenience.

He would need to find another job again, or he would have difficulty paying for bills at this point and he wouldn't cut in what was necessary for wy.

jc did suggest helping them, but he was gently brushed off by wwx "You already have jl and yourself to take care of, I don't want to burden you more". This did annoy jc and pinch him the wrong way, did wwx think he don't have the money? but he took a deep breath and reconsidered it.

If he was in wwx shoes he knew he would also refuse the help unless he was at rock bottom, so he couldn't blame him.

So instead he tried helping to find another job, talking to some contact he has. It was a bit hard finding someone who was ready to give wwx a chance even when knowing about his record (better be upfront from the start). But since he was trusted by these people seen as a trustworthy man who was only trying to help his brother he did find a couple of people ready to give wwx a shot.

wwx couldn't be more thankful for that help.

Then, as the month slowly went by, wwx and jc slowly enter each other's life again. It was sometimes odd getting used to things and habits they never had before, but they were slowly getting there, where they fit perfectly together as they did before. It became rather frequent to visit each other, to the point where jl and wy weren't surprised anymore when they were seeing each other so often, this meant they could hang out more.

This also meant wwx was slowly letting jc help him out when he needed it, still unsure sometimes if he could really ask for help (He had gone on for so long that he couldn't really do so).

But something he couldn't stop jc from helping apparently was groceries.

"It is good that you make sure a-yuan has all that he needs to eat, but /you/ also need to eat correctly" jc scolded once when he dragged him to the grocery store so they could buy enough for /both/ of them.

He was so worried about wwx, especially since he could see he was cutting his own portion to make sure wy eat enough. He couldn't let that slide, he would put back some meat on wwx, be it if he needed to cook for him every day too.

This is how he saw wwx slowly (but surely) go back to a healthier size, having also more energy from correctly eating, instead of living on energy drinks and pushing himself. even if he didn't ask for it, wwx would always try to pay him back for the food, so he simply settles on "You pay back half the grocery when you can, keep your money for what you need"

they may be both stubborn, but he would out-stubborn him if needed. At some point jc even suggest coming to live with him and jl, they both would be happy to have them here (plus, they were already often over as it is). jc didn't push him when he first refused, simply saying the offer would always be on the table.

It took weeks before wwx accepted his offer. Something had happened in their cheap building and he didn't want anything to happen to wy, and he had really wished to get out of there at some point.

So they moved in, a new routine settling in for everyone. Something in both older men was more than happy to have each other around all the time, like in the good old days.

They didn't notice it, but jl and wy saw how they acted around each other, wondering if they were ever more than "brothers" in the past.

This is how wwx was slowly able to find a more stable way of living, also trying to finish his studies now that he had the time and financial safety to do so (in the hope of maybe getting a better job despite his record).

It was a weird little family, but really, none of them would complain about it going this way. They couldn't tell what the future would bring, but they knew they could go through it now that they were back at each other's side.

Original