#i cannot and will not ever understand you

[punkitt-is-here]

Hi, I'm genuinely looking for an explanation here and not looking for an argument /srs

Can you explain how calling a transfem a TERF for spreading ideology that I genuinely assumed was included in the definition of TERFism is othering ? Not to be that guy, but I'm autistic and I'm having a very hard time connecting the points you're making, and I genuinely want to learn and understand what you're saying /gen

Again, I do hope this doesn't come off as hostile, I am genuinely trying to learn and understand better, and I want to be able to fix misconceptions about what a TERF is in my own mind, and I haven't seen anyone bring this point up before /gen

You absolutely do not have to answer this, but I hope you have a fabulous rest of your day, and I do apologize for what I said, as it wasn't necessary for me to comment on the situation.

Yeah totally! Okay, I got a lot of this from Ibram X. Kendi's "How to be Antiracist"* where he talks about describing "racist" as an identity means that hardly anyone is going to ever "identify" with it, even if they are a racist. It's much more helpful to talk about actions being racist or anti-racist. Someone committing racist acts speaks far more to the vulnerability of anyone to cause harm, rather than it being something ONLY reserved for someone with the identity of "racist". For example, Clarence Thomas, a black man, has done untold amounts of harm to the black population in the US. If we subscribe to the "oh, (X) can't be racist, they are (a minority)" train of thought, it means people are less likely to understand that Clarence Thomas commits racist acts. In the same way, describing yourself as an anti-racist is not enough, as it can let people be comfortable with racist actions because they think "oh, I'm an anti-racist, I can't commit acts of racial harm." That's why it's more helpful to describe acts as racist and anti-racist rather than framing them as identities.

In a similar way, describing someone as the label of "TERF" can have a similar effect. Because it's specifically a label centered around being anti-trans, transgender people of all kinds will easily assume they cannot be transphobic, because the label of TERF is ideologically opposed to their existence. It invites ridicule rather than introspection. By saying actions can be transphobic, I think it helps a lot more because it's easier to understand that trans people can be transphobic. For example, Blaire White is right there. Despite being a trans woman, she is actively doing transphobic acts. By calling out an action as transphobic rather than describing someone as a "TERF", it helps fight back against the idea that being trans means you cannot be transphobic. For a super duper simple example, I can step on my dogs tail, but it doesn't mean I hate dogs, it means I committed an act of harm against my dog. Describing me as a dog-hater when I LOVE dogs would invite ridicule more than it would a tendency to watch my step when my dog is in the house. I hope this makes sense!

*I'm not trying to say the Black and Trans experience is exactly the same, just that like any oppressed group, there is a lot of overlap in tactics and thinking, especially for people who are Black and Trans. Reading about other groups can really give you a ton of helpful insight on how to work within your own identity!

[luckyladylily]

So like, transandrophobia.

To start this out, I am a trans woman, been around in the queer community for a while. I'm also bisexuality, polyamorous, disabled, and aromantic, and I think these other parts of my identity and the crap I've caught over the years for them heavily informs how I analyze something like transandrophobia. My wife is also asexual, so that plays a part in it too.

So every group of marginalized people has their own unique experiences and problems. It's more of a rule than something we've mathematically demonstrated, but as far as these things go it's ridiculously well established, and personally every time I've done even a basic dive into the issues faced by a marginalized group it's been self evident. I could easily list a dozen groups ranging from racial minorities to different kinds of disabled people to different queer identities and analyze their social issues but let's be real, this is pretty well established theory, anyone who needs me to do that is not really interacting with good faith. This is one of the big reasons we talk to people about their own experiences and groups, we cannot reasonably extrapolate the experiences of others from our own.

So like trans men and trans mascs and anyone else that falls under that umbrella has their unique experiences. The idea that we would even question this is weird to me? Like I can't even imagine the kind of evidence someone would need to present to me to change my mind, and given the pattern of the queer community to be shitty in exactly this way to people in our community, yeah that is not happening.

Therefore, we are taking it for granted that the trans men/masc/related umbrella has their own things going on like everyone else ever, and I don't understand how someone acting in good faith can try to claim otherwise unless they are young or otherwise very inexperienced with such things.

The next point of contention seems to be the name, and I gotta be real I don't care and I don't understand why other people do. I've read all sorts of arguments against the word transandrophobia and the majority of them seem to be rooted in a misunderstanding of intersectionality, and even then it's like there is such a thing where people get so mired in theory that they miss the forest for the trees.

Perhaps more important to me, getting overly worked up about something as unimportant as the precise term is... weird. Like exclusionists hating on bi and ace people weird. I remember what it was like a decade ago when exclusionists were trying to police the words of bi women, and five years ago when ace and aro people were under constant attack under the pretense that our language was harmful for some reason or other. You are going to have to work very, very, very hard to convince me that any bickering over language as it relates to transandrophobia is not just more of the same.

Next, "transandrobros hate trans femmes" and similar stuff. I've seen the callout posts and found them completely unconvincing. Again, they read a lot like the old "ace people hate lesbians!" posts I used to see. I'm not convinced that the individuals involved were a problem, I am certainly not able to extrapolate a problem to the rest of the group.

Finally, there is this idea that "maleness is not a vector for oppression" and this invalidates something about the whole transandrophobia thing, ranging from the entire concept of trans men experiencing prejudice to something about language being imprecise all the way to "This is fascist shit, omg these people are basically nazis" depending on who says it. I'm not going to touch any of that and just look at the underlying logic.

This is based off a misunderstanding of intersectionality theory. Many people think of intersectionality as defining intersecting prejudice, like a ven diagram, such that transmisogyny is the intersection of transphobia and misogyny. This is incorrect. Intersectionality defines unique prejudice experienced by people with intersecting identities. Instead of a transmisogyny as the overlap of transphobia and misogyny, imagine adding a third circle that overlaps both but also has its own areas covered by neither.

Applied to transandrophobia, even if we assume maleness is not a vector for oppression, there is no reason to assume that the intersection of maleness with a marginalized identity doesn't result in new issues. Imagine that 3 circle venn diagram that represents misogyny, transphobia, and transmisogyny. Even if you remove the misogyny circle there is still plenty of ground covered by the transmisogyny circle.

This just isn't a valid criticism. It is a pure theory approach based on a flawed reading of theory.

So in summary:

Everyone has their unique shit going on and I've seen no convincing evidence that trans men, mascs, etc. Are the exception.

I not seen any convincing argument that the word itself is bad.

I've not seen any convincing evidence that there is some epidemic of transandrophobia truthers hating and harassing trans femmes on scales higher than normal background queer infighting.

The most coherent objection to transandrophobia I've seen is categorically incorrect and based on a fundamental misunderstanding of intersectionality theory.

I would like to remind everyone at this point I am a trans woman, part of the group that is supposedly a problem for and I've just not see it at all, to the point where it is kind of weird how intensely some people are pushing this.

I'm not trying to be mean or whatever, I'm sure the distress on display here comes from a real place and real trauma, but I've yet to see anything that makes me think there is substance to the objections to transandrophobia as a concept. It feels and reads like the latest round of queer intracommunity exclusionism, and the fact that this time around I'm not one of the target identities doesn't change that for me.

[wheelie-sick]

people way underestimate the needs of wheelchair users.

there's a lot of what I'll call walkism (bias towards pedestrians and against wheelchair users) among disabled pedestrians (people who primarily walk, assisted or not, as their means of mobility)

diminishing our needs is walkism.

people within the community see us as ableds minus legs. they see our disabilities as simple- just can't walk, it's that easy. they see us as having low accommodation needs and as having the accommodations that we do need met. they see our access barriers as being as simple as ramps and curb cuts.

we are frequently compared to low support needs (LSN) non-physically disabled people by ablebodied disabled people and physically disabled people alike. we are compared to people who walk through life (literally) with little to no support, who make it through school with minimal accommodations, who have access to the whole world.

people are so incredibly out of touch with what wheelchair use actually looks like. people don't personally know wheelchair users, often don't even follow them on social media. people assume they can understand our entire lives by looking at our wheels and imagining. that doesn't work.

this belief that our disabilities are simple especially goes for paraplegic wheelchair users who are so often used as the "closest to abled" examples. they don't consider how many paraplegic wheelchair users experience things like spasms, chronic pain, bladder spasms specifically, both urinary and fecal incontinence, among much else that I'm sure I'm not aware of as I am not paraplegic. they especially don't consider that fact that wheelchair use is absolutely not close to abled.

they don't consider the extent of needs that full time and near full time wheelchair users experience. have you ever had to wait in the grocery store parking lot for 30+ minutes so an accessible spot with an access aisle could open up? how deep is the washing machine in your apartment? how large is the room it's in? is your sink too tall? what about the cabinets? how high is your bed? how low is your dining table? how easy would it be to fit a wheelchair in your car? how reliable is your bus? how reliable are the people on it to not put their groceries in the wheelchair spot? does your workplace have a ramp?

when people become wheelchair users they often have to uproot their entire lives to rebuild in a way that allows them to access things as vital as their home and workplace. when people already are wheelchair users they experience shortages of everything- jobs with accessible buildings, apartments they can get into and use, cars they can put their wheelchairs in easily.

this isn't even getting into things like access to businesses and other locations wheelchair users may want to go.

wheelchair users always have significant disabilities. yes, always. yes, even that disability you think is mild. people don't end up as wheelchair users because they have mild chronic pain or lose balance occasionally. people end up as wheelchair users because they have significant mobility disabilities. significant mobility disabilities rarely act alone. I cannot name a wheelchair user who only experiences mobility disability. everything, yes, everything comes with other effects.

while I've spent a lot of time talking about the comparatively low support needs wheelchair users there are high support needs wheelchair users as well. people only look at those of us who have ability to do all or most ADLs with our wheelchairs, this is not the case for every wheelchair user. there are wheelchair users who use group 3 powerchairs. there are wheelchair users who transfer via hoist. there are wheelchair users who need to control their wheelchair with their breath. there are wheelchair users who can't move their wheelchair independently at all and rely on someone else to push them. there are wheelchair users whose disabilities cause significant disability in areas other than mobility meaning they have feeding tubes, ostomies, suprapubic catheters, and ventilators. these presentations of disability are not even uncommon.

true high support needs wheelchair users are so often erased from every conversation (including conversations among wheelchair users) but I have not once seen a pedestrian mention quadriplegia & tetraplegia or muscular dystrophy or spinal muscular atrophy or any other number of conditions that leave someone needing both a wheelchair and very high support. I never see mentions of intellectually disabled people who use wheelchairs for conditions connected to their intellectual disability and I never see mentions of conditions like sanfilippo syndrome.

ultimately though, wheelchair users are just not a monolith. I will stand by the fact that, while some wheelchair users may have low support needs compared to other wheelchair users and high support needs neurodevelopmentally disabled people, none of our support needs are so low that they are at all comparable to those of low support needs non-physically disabled people. it's erasure of our disability to suggest there is no difference in support required between a low support needs autistic person and a wheelchair user on the low support needs end of the wheelchair support needs spectrum.

it is especially erasure to collapse all wheelchair users down to the lowest level of support needs a wheelchair user can have. it pretends that our higher support needs siblings don't exist.

the community does not understand us or our struggles. it won't understand us or our struggles until we are included, until people stop seeing us as the most privileged part of the community and until people stop minimizing our struggles. walkism is the reason wheelchair users have built our own communities separate from the rest of the disabled community. it is made clear time and time again that we are not welcome and we will not be understood.

A note: by wheelchair user I am specifically referring to people who use a wheelchair on a regular basis for day-to-day tasks. for the sake of this post I am not including people who only use wheelchairs at the mall/Disney/theme parks/other long distances.

[all dividers are described in alt text]

[alexmasonistired]

Id like to start this off by saying that this is an absolutely lovely post; thank you OP for making it. Now I would like to share our own experience with the education system in general, and what our state called- “Critical minds classes”.

Now if you don’t know what that is- it’s a thing in our state where 30 kids are chosen by the state to go into these special critical minds classes. We in particular were put in critical minds math and let me tell ya- IT FUCKING SUCKED.

All the class was, was us sitting in a certain spot that we could not move from the ENTIRE OVER AN HOUR THAT WE WERE IN THERE in SILENCE while working on these list of MathXL links. And if you know how MathXL works- yeahhh it was absolutely awful. Some of the worst parts of that class though, was that we had to keep our bags up front the entire time and we wouldn’t get anything because we wasn’t allowed out of our seat, and worst of all- the teacher that lead the class, always seemed like she just didn’t wanna be there. She felt intimidating to us so we never were able to approach her with our getting insanely nervous. She reminded us of the bodies mother with the way she looked so that made it worse. (Also edit: I just remembered- I believe for a good chunk of the first half of the semester she was watching our computers??)

Btw- remeber those check lists of MathXL links that I mentioned earlier??? Yeah. There was like- 18-20 of those links on these checklists that we used to have a month to complete! But then it was shortened to only a WEEK because the semester was ending and she needed to get grades in ig.

We had a whole ass panic attack infront of our history teacher becuase we were on list SIX, and there was TEN of these things to do. And I swear it felt like each list just had more links- we fucking hated it. I believe we finally made it to list eight before we eventually gave up and let the burn out take us over and just wrote in our diary the entire period. Except for the days we had quizzes and did blookets, which was hardly ever. At that point we were just SO fucking done of just not being able to understand ANYTHING put in front of us no matter how hard we tried. We just barely passed that class with a D.

I also remeber that we went to summer school after seventh grade because our grades were so low our teachers didn’t know if they could pass us. It was the same with in fifth grade, the teachers were nervous to let us go into middle school because we were just barely passing. Our grades were that bad.

We got to this point(the whole critical minds math thing and giving up,) because ever since like- second grade, we had been having massive trouble with math and grades and over all just confidence in general. Especially in the math field.

I remember we began cheating on a lot of our assignments and tests in second grade because our confidence had been bumped down that badly, and we just couldn’t really understand it. Or at least I believe that we couldn’t understand it- I’ll get into second grade math in another post. Regardless, we ended up sizing cheating as a last ditch effort a lot in school because we got to a point where we felt like we didn’t have a choice.

We would try so hard at something in math, only for our brain not being able to remember it, how to do it, and for it to also not make sense in our brain. It absolutely crushed us one day when we ended up in an argument with the father one day over another bad math grade and we yelled: “Is my best not enough not for you!?” And he just yelled back: “NO!” That day crushed us. The father always says that we just weren’t applying ourselves enough, which hurt even MORE because we WERE applying ourselves more, we WERE trying, and as hard as we could too! But we can only do so much, but it honestly seems like the parents, especially the father, just cannot realize that. And it hurts us, so much.

We always saw our friends in school absolutely soar and it was fucking awful how they would be getting into honors classes, getting to go up a grade or even graduate early, and then we would be sitting here in what is supposed to be an “extra help” class when in reality it didn’t help us at all. Due to our mental disabilities/Illnesses, we weren’t able to learn like the other kids were able too. All we’ve ever wanted was to be smart enough to be able to fly through school like our friends, study efficiently, and get our diploma normally like any other kid, but no. We didn’t have that experience and we never will due to our life and the way that our brain works and we fucking hate it.

There was also of times where we felt stupid, useless, and pathetic for not being able to keep up with our allistic, and non-ADHD-having peers. It especially was rough considering that that was the standard our parents set us too all the time, and we just could not reach the standards that she and the father set for us.

We tried tutoring a few times, but it honestly didn’t help much either. We never ever got the help that we needed growing up and I know that we never will get the help we need. And I hate it. So many people failed us when it came to education and I look back and can’t help but feel bad for us. We were just a young, neurodivergent kid with a dissociative disorder along with many other disorders alone with it, and a complete mess too. A mess that no one really bothered to help with. It was awful.

What we needed back then was one-on-one assistance with someone who could understand us and what was going on with us, we never got that. And that was because everyone around us failed us. Either failing to recognize our needs, or just not thinking that we needed them because it wasn’t super duper obvious that we did.

Kinda fucked up that we all coo and sympathize with "former gifted kids" but never talk about the students who had to stay late after school or over the summer for remedial classes/clubs, who struggled to get above a C, who were given up on or punished. Who tried so hard to understand or just couldn't. Who were grouped with the "stupid kids" (a classmate called us that in remedial math btw)

Autistic kids and adhders who can't relate to their gifted peers and are constantly alienated by them. Kids who struggled in school due to dealing with a chronic or mental illness or physical/learning/developmental disability. Those of us who have had to drop out of highschool or college. Kids who worked so hard and wanted to be seen as smart, but never were. Who watched as their peers seem to fly by them in school, while they were left behind. Who were bullied and put down by those in the gifted and honors classes. Whose confidence was absolutely destroyed by education.

I love you all and I'm so sorry the school system failed you. I'm sorry you weren't properly accommodated and given the education you deserved. I'm sorry people put you down for something that they never had to fight for.

[witherby]

what would be littlest wayne's first word be?

I was thinking of something simple or sweet, but then I got the funniest idea on the planet.

The Littlest Wayne: First Words

You were babbling a lot more lately. Your family all knew it meant you were likely going to say your first words soon, and the fighting over who got to have your attention increased tenfold. It had gotten to the point that your brothers were practically kidnapping you to monopolize your time and attention. Bruce put his foot down and ended that whole charade when it stopped being endearing and became dangerous.

("Really, Damian? Your skill in combat is not in question, it has never been in question, but you cannot bring them on patrol with you on the off-chance they happen to say their first words in the middle of the night!")

So, Bruce takes you to the Watchtower anytime he has a Justice League meeting. It pisses off all of his sons, but he's arguably bringing you to the safest spot in the galaxy. Also, he's your father. It's not kidnapping if you're kidnapping your own child. Okay, it is, it very much still is, but that's not the point.

"Okay, Mouse," he murmurs, easing you onto the floor and handing you a stuffed teddy bear. "The meeting's only an hour, then we're going back home. Dada will take you home."

(Maybe he wants to steer you towards your first word himself. Sue him, he's just a man at the end of the day.)

You take the bear, staring openly at your father. You don't see him often in the Batman suit, so he's very visually appealing at the moment. Bruce allows himself a small smile, gently pinching your cheek, then he steps out of the way when Diana arrives.

"The babyyy!" She whisper-yells, kneeling next to the playpen. "Hello, little one! It's such a treat when Batman brings you around!"

You make some soft, babbling noises. Mostly you're making raspberries. It's a fascinating sound. Diana melts and wipes some drool from your chin.

"Someone's getting close to their first words. My mother said mine was "maim." I remember that conversation fondly..."

Bruce has to remind himself that Diana grew up on an island inhabited by immortal warrior women. "Maim" is a perfectly normal first word for an immortal warrior baby.

The other Leaguers start quickly filing into the meeting room, each of them stopping cheerfully to greet you. It makes something fond bloom in Bruce's chest, and you coo and openly admire all the people with bright, primary colors all over their bodies. You're busy trying to chew on Superman's cape when a glowing, green light enters your periphery, and you drop the fabric in favor of staring at the Green Lantern.

"Oh, bring your kid to work day, huh, Spooks?" Hal actually scoops you up out of the pen and cradles you to his chest, grinning down at you. "Hey, kiddo!"

"Mmmnnn," you mutter intelligently, reaching for his mask. Every time you manage to pop it off, he just wills another one on. You think this is the most entertaining game ever.

"The kids are taking them out into the field, now," Bruce sighs. "They all want to be the one to hear their first word. Which is fine. It's adorable. I love that they love the baby. But the baby does not belong on Gotham's streets in the middle of the night, especially if guns are involved."

"Oh, yeah, that's pretty bad," Hal says, smiling at you. You pop his domino mask off again, squealing when it dissolves in your fingers and another one materializes over his face. "Uncle Hal would never do that to you, would he? No! No he wouldn't! That's very dangerous!"

"Huh...Hal!"

Everyone freezes. Bruce's jaw actually drops.

"No fucking way," Barry blurts across the room.

"Language. There's a whole baby here, Flash," Oliver says, but he's grinning like an idiot.

"Hal!" You chirp again. "Hal!"

Bruce sinks to his knees. Clark looks like he's trying not to laugh. Barry and Oliver are definitely laughing. Diana is pouting over the fact that your first word was so tame and boring. J'onn doesn't understand why your first word is so important when it just means you'll eventually learn to say more.

Hal is nearly trembling with the flood of emotions. His thing with Bruce is very new, and he's been by the Manor often enough that you obviously know him, but he really hadn't anticipated his name being...being...

"The boys are going to kill me."

"Maybe," Bruce admits, still on the floor. "...it couldn't be dada? It couldn't be uppies? Or Mouse, or any of the other words you hear ten thousand times a day? Even Alfred thought you might try his name first."

"I think we're going to need to postpone the start of the meeting," Clark declares, coughing as a way of clearing his throat and definitely not to disguise his amused huffs. "Let's push it back fifteen minutes."

"Hal!" You chirp again, delighted. You finally pulled Green Lantern's mask off and it didn't disappear. You win!

[marikosfragrance]

"What is a dealbreaker in a relationship with bllk boys?"

Characters : Isagi Yoichi, Karasu Tabito, Itoshi Rin, Hiori Yo

Note : thank you for the ask once again, i had fun doing this, I might do a part two with some other characters, but if any of you wants a particular character next, feel free to ask, mwah. Hope you enjoy reading!!

Warning : I am going be to be realistic and harsh about this to keep the "canonical" edge; even if you think that this isn't canon, I can accept it. This is just how I portray them, trying to make them as canon as possible.

Isagi Yoichi

Being in a relationship with Isagi is a pleasant experience, but it comes with a set of limits.

One of the major dealbreakers for him, is the lack of support in his partner. Isagi would prefer a partner that supports his goals and dreams, forming mutual respect for themselves and their goals. I can't imagine Isagi staying with a partner that also belittles his work— he values shared positivity in a relationship.

Another is an overly arrogant partner. A partner that looks down on him and doesn't recognize his efforts. Once again, he thrives on positivity on a relationship and it goes the same for equality. He respects his partner and expects them to do the same.

Another is a person that is negative. He would be more than happy to comfort an innsecured partner. He would see it as normal, but a partner that always complains about things, always thinks about the worst of everything and drags him into it, would drain him mentally and I cannot see Isagi wanting that.

Another is a partner that is disloyal. This is pretty much self explanatory, so I won't delve deeper.

There are many more, but these are some of the major ones.

Karasu Tabito

Karasu would be a good partner, but nevertheless, once again— limits.

One of the things that would be a huge dealbreaker for him in a relationship is the lack of intelligence. Don't get him wrong, you don't have to be Albert Einstein, but Karasu is smart. He likes his intellect either being challenged, or have his intellect also be matched. All in all, it would be a huge dealbreaker for him if his partner lacks the ability to be able to keep up with his fast thinking nature— and he would lose interest.

Another major dealbreaker is an overly dependant partner. A partner that always second guesses, very negative, doesn't have confidence and lacks independence would make him lose interest. Especially if his partner needs constant validation and demands his attention every minute of the day, and can't seem to trust themselves unless told to, would drain him mentally and make him lose interest.

Another major one, is someone that is disrespectful. As in, disrespecting his boundaries. He also likes his space, and he doesn't see the need to have his partner be involved in almost everything. He sees his partner as an equal and he won't ever mentally drain them, so for him, having some space set is a good way to thrive individually and not having to constantly depend on the other. And disrespecting of boundaries is also something he won't tolerate, having a partner that forces him to do things he isn't comfortable with, is a major turn off.

There are maybe some more, but let's keep it this way for now.

Itoshi Rin

Being in a relationship with him is already mentally draining enough, especially his situation with his brother. But if someone is persistent enough, these are his top major dealbreakers in a relationship. To which if done, he won't hesitate to drop his partner.

Rin is serious and independent. And one of the things that is a huge dealbreaker for him would be a partner that disregards his independence. Rin's goal to surpassing his brother, and becoming better at soccer has already become a part of his identity and self— stemming from his independence. So if his partner attempts to diminish that independence, intentionally or not, that partner of his won't be with him for much longer. He needs a partner that supports and understands his goals, aswell as understand how a relationship with him can have someone feeling neglected.

Another major turn off is a partner that is overly sensitive. For Rin, he has a blunt mouth, replicating his brother's harshness and he might accidently say things he might not mean to his partner. If his partner is someone that takes every word seriously, or can't seem to understand where he is coming from and doesnt have the ability to comprehend whether or not he meant what he said, can't last in a relationship with him much longer. Rin might not outwardly say harsh things, but sometimes it would slip from his tongue from time to time. A partner that can see through to him and understand he doesn't mean anything, would mean alot him.

Another is a partner that relies on him constantly. And is pessimistic. Rin has goals, and he is ambitious. He strives to achieves them— his independence and confidence would not mesh well with a partner that is negative all the time and not confident. Being reliant also is a major turn off as he strives in independence. He is already mentally drained enough with his brother and goals, I cannot see him lasting with a partner that needs constant assurance, validation and attention since he already is emotionally closed off as he is. There needs to be a balance.

Hiori Yo

For Hiori, he had grown with parents who imposed their own aspirations onto him, and such he lacked the emotional connection a child should've formed with their parents.

With this, I can see lack of genuine connection being a huge dealbreaker for him. He would deeply appreciate a partner that can make meaningful interactions and deep understanding. He wouldn't like it if his relationships are nothing more but just.... there. If he is in a relationship, he plans to make a deep connection with that person. If that person only interacts with him in a shallow manner or doesn't connect with him on a deeper and more intimate level, I can see Hiori not lasting long with that person. He might not even consider dating them.

Another major turn off is being controlling. He already carries the weight of his parents being controlling on every aspect of his life, as well as his future. They already have a hold of him, restraining him. I cant see him with a partner that does the same. In fact, he might even avoid people like that for the sake of himself. A partner like that would be a major turn off as he would feel as though the relationship is just another cheap reflection of his parent's control over him and his life.

Another is an overly dramatic partner that makes dramas and creates conflicts. He already has so much on his plate. Relationships are supposed to be a source of comfort, and a healthy space. Hiori is mentally drained by his parents and he won't be able to keep up with even more conflicts and dramas. Hiori likes a peaceful atmosphere, so his partner has to be able to offer a comfort place for him, and not another place filled with reminders of his parents.

___________________________

That is all!! Once again, thanks for the ask, enjoyed making this. Might even make a part 2 of my own hehe. But if any of ya'll want specific characters, don't be afraid to ask.

[wisterialwhymsy]

when you're ready

part 2 of as much or as little!!

bang chan x gn! reader wc: 1216 warnings: they're a little awkward, Chris teases reader a little, fluffy, talks of boundaries and different types of physical affection, i cannot stay serious for more than 5 minutes and therefore neither can they, Chris is so sweet, slight hurt/comfort a/n: part 2!!!! question: would people prefer a few longer parts or more shorter parts? because i can either do like 3-5 more longer parts or a bunch more shorter parts, i cannot decide

“So,” Chris starts as he turns to you, gently squeezing your hand that rested under his. “We should talk about boundaries and stuff.”

You nod in confirmation, trying to ignore the spike in your anxiety.

“What is it that you find most intimidating about physical touch? Is it just generally or something specific?” He asks gently, tracing subtle patterns on the back of your hand.

“Um.” You hesitate, thinking. “I think initiating it?” You question aloud.

“I just get so anxious that I’ll make people feel uncomfortable, or something similar to how I felt back then. But then I feel like I’ll be annoying and like people will hate me if I constantly ask.” You feel your voice tremble slightly as you look down at your entwined hands.

“Well, you would never annoy me�� But, would it be easier if I just gave you, like, blanket consent? So you don’t have to ask, I’ll just tell you if I’m uncomfortable.” He asks, and the sincerity in his tone makes your stomach turn.

“Are you sure that you’d be okay with that?” You ask, hesitant to agree.

“I’m sure. I doubt you’ll make me uncomfortable, because I love physical touch, but if you ever do, I promise I will tell you.” He gently affirms, continuing his gentle ministrations on your hand.

You pause, still hesitant to agree. He notices, squeezing your hand again, prompting you to look at him.

“Hey, I want to help, however you’ll let me. I promise you that I want to do this, I want to do whatever it takes to help you.” He murmurs softly, his eyes showing his earnesty and you feel an odd turning in your stomach as you look at him.

You hum, nodding. “Okay. Thank you.” You whisper, before taking a deep breath.

“You’re safe here, I promise.” Chris affirms, pulling you close and hugging you.

“Now, would you prefer me to ask before I touch you? Or would you rather something else?” He hums quietly and you can feel the vibration of his words from where you're pressed against his neck.

“Um…” You hesitate, feeling slightly freaked out by the sensation and simultaneously unsure how to respond to his question.

You pull back, so that the two of you are sitting and facing each other once more.

“Can you, like, ask after you touch me?” You pause, anxious despite knowing you have his full support. 

“If that uh, makes sense.” You ramble, unsure. “That way I can like, see how it feels before I decide whether I like it or not.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Chris says, smiling softly.

“So, I should hug you, and then ask if it’s okay?” He reiterates, maintaining reassuring eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “That way I’m less likely to overthink it.”

He hums in understanding as you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

“And please, please, never be afraid to tell me to stop, or that you're uncomfortable.” He squeezes your hand as you look away. “I will never, ever be even remotely upset or offended.  I promise.”

“Hey, look at me.” He says softly as you turn back to him.

“I need you to promise.” He says and you feel your heart rate spike. “Promise me that you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable, or upset with me in any way.” 

“I promise.” You affirm, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart.

“I want you to feel safe with me.” He whispers softly and you can’t help but reach forward and hug him, seeking solace in his arms.

“Thank you.” You whisper quietly.

“Always.” He whispers back, holding you close.

“Now,” he starts again sometime later. “Is there anything you’re not okay with? In regards to touch.”

You sit up again, this time shifting so your legs are crossed.

“Um… neck touching, especially kisses. Makes me extremely uncomfortable.” You look at the ground, trying to avoid his eyes.

“Gentle touches, like on my arms, they either make me sleepy or itchy, so I’d rather you don’t do that.” You continue, trying to think.

“Oh! Do NOT tickle me. Ever. I will punch you, in the face. That’s not a threat, just the truth.” You state as he giggles.

“Okay, noted.” He laughs, urging you to continue.

“Oh, and please don’t put your mouth near my ears.” You blurted out before laughing at your unusual wording.

Chris bursts into laughter.

 “Why on earth would I ever do that?” He exclaims in shock.

“I don’t know!” You clamor, valiantly defending yourself. “In books and stuff they talk about people affectionately nibbling on people's ears and it freaks me out!”

“Okay no, that’s understandable. But why did you say it like that?” Chris gasps out through his laughter.

“Because I-” You pause, making him laugh even harder. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, okay. So no ear-nibbling.” He repeated, giggling at your facial expression. “No gentle touches, neck touching or tickling.” 

“Yes.” You affirm, nodding.

“Anything else you’d rather I don’t do?” He asks as he tries to control his breathing.

“Uhhh- please don’t touch my thighs, or feet. I really don’t know why you would but yeah.” You murmur as he bursts into laughter again.

“Okay, okay.” He giggles and you feel your face growing warm. “I won’t ever be doing that.”

“Thank you.” You reply awkwardly, making him laugh harder as you gently slap his arm.

“Is there anything you’d rather I don’t do?” You ask once the two of you have stopped laughing and regained your breath.

“Oh!” He replied, seemingly surprised at being asked. “Not really, no.”

“Let me know if there is anything.” You affirm as he hums in response.

The two of you fall into an awkward silence for a moment, unsure as to how to proceed.

“So, do you just want to do platonic stuff for now?” Chris asks, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You were serious about that?” You gasp, shocked.

He giggles at your shock.

“Yes, I was.” He teased, but there was honesty in his tone..

“But we don’t have to do anything before you’re ready.” Chris affirms, but you can barely hear him over the sound of your internal screaming. “Or ever. It’s your call.”

You have nothing to say in response, simply resorting to putting your head in your hands and trying not to freak out.

“Love, you okay?” Chris asks gently and you manage out a strained yes in response.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” He questions, evidently worried. 

“No.” You replied, your desire to ease his worries overriding your fluster.

“Can I touch you?” He enquires, voice gentle and caring. You hum in response, still slightly overwhelmed.

He gently moves your hands from your face, holding them in his, the motion revealing your red face. He giggles as he notices your blush.

“Shut up!” You exclaim, extracting your hand to lightly slap his arm, making him laugh harder.

“Okay, okay.” He giggles, swinging your entwined hands.

“But seriously, when or if you’re ready, let me know. I’ll be here.” You feel your heartbeat race as you process the earnesty in his tone and eyes.

“Thanks.” You squeak out before immediately hiding again, grumbling at him slightly before you eventually join in with his continued laughter.

This is a work of fiction, based entirely on my personal perception of him, and does not reflect his actual character or actions.

ʚ✩ɞ taglist ʚ✩ɞ

@jennibahng @jchasseblog @itzkingbo

[fixaidea]

Luxury goods I don't need or want are one of my preferred Youtube rabbitholes, and this is even worse than what you'd think.

See, I understand bespoke. When you roll up to an artisan, state your parameters (size, materials, colour etc.), they slot you in their queue, source the materials and make the thing for you when they get to it. This may cost a tonne of money and take a very long time.

This, I get.

This is not what's happening here.

No, after you've courted the SA, blew at least the bag's price on random other items you neither needed not wanted, waited several years, then you may be offered *some* bag. Some bag that, if someone at the brand is feeling gracious, MAYBE vaguely resembles the already very loose specifications you were allowed to give. If you don't want the bag, then you're back to square one, now with the reputation of being difficult.

You cannot pick a specific bag.

Truly non-secondhand Birkins are the most expensive pair of metaphorical clown shoes one could ever ask for.

I learned today that you can’t just buy an Hermes Birkin bag; you have to engage in complex courtship with an Hermes sales associate, and then execute an esoteric set of criteria that people speculate involves buying multiple luxury Hermes items in order to be invited to buy a Birkin

This is the saddest most pathetic secret society LOL

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine, Sunday and Ratio w/ a Memokeeper...? 👀

“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us”

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Memokeeper!Reader, Character Study, Existential Themes, Introspection, Emotional Growth, Intellectual Tension, Mysticism, Loss, Haunted Past, Unresolved Regret, Journey of Self-Discovery, Temporal Manipulation

Warnings: Existential Crisis, Trauma, Philosophical Discomfort, Emotional Weight Vulnerability in Characters, Mature Themes (regret, guilt, and self-worth).

Ratio, with his signature plaster sculpture concealing his face and his wavy hair cascading just past his shoulders, was a figure both revered and feared within the Intelligentsia Guild. His sharp eyes, the color of fading twilight with a ring of yellow at their core, saw everything and everyone, evaluating, analyzing, dissecting.

It was here that you, a Memokeeper from the Garden of Recollection, first encountered him.

You had come to this world, as you did with every other, to preserve memories, to seek out moments that spoke of the lives lived, the forgotten faces, and the stars that fell into oblivion. In the endless cycle of existence, you had learned that the only thing that truly mattered was memory. To think, to feel, to exist—those were not just ephemeral things, but imprints on the fabric of reality itself.

But when you met Ratio, it was as if all the weight of time had been condensed into a single moment. He, too, had an unyielding belief in the importance of knowledge, in the idea that ideas, too, were immortal. He understood the power of remembrance, but to him, it was intellect, not memory, that was the truest form of immortality. A fascinating paradox.

"You're a Memokeeper, aren't you?" His voice was smooth, like velvet over steel, his eyes locking onto yours, seeing straight through to your very essence.

You nodded, concealing your true form beneath your disguise, as was customary for those like you. In this world, you were just another scholar, another wanderer with a collection of knowledge to trade. But unlike the others, your knowledge wasn’t of facts or figures. It was of memories, of moments suspended in time, of people long gone and forgotten.

"You believe that memory is everything, don’t you?" Ratio's gaze never wavered, as if he was testing you. "You think that by preserving memory, you preserve the soul of a person. But memories are subjective, fleeting. They are not absolute. Ideas, facts, theories—these are what endure. These are what define existence."

His words were confident, dismissive even. But you knew there was more behind them, a deeper yearning to understand what lay beyond the limits of mortal comprehension. You could see it in the way his hands gestured as he spoke, the sharpness of his thoughts revealing a man who, despite all his brilliance, was searching for something more.

"You misunderstand," you said, your voice calm but full of a quiet intensity. "Memories are the only things that cannot be erased, not by time, not by entropy. They are the proof of existence. Without them, what are we but ghosts, vanishing without a trace?"

Ratio's eyes glinted with something unreadable—was it interest? Curiosity? You couldn’t tell, but it was enough to pique his attention. "And how do you preserve them? What makes your memories so… important?"

You smiled faintly, an ethereal expression. "I don’t just remember, Dr. Ratio. I preserve. Through the Garden of Recollection, I collect and store memories, not just from the world I come from, but from all worlds. I can live through them, feel what they felt, see what they saw. I can carry the memories of thousands, and in doing so, they live on."

For a moment, there was silence. Ratio’s gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. "And what of your own memories?" he asked, his voice softer now, though still brimming with intensity. "Do you ever remember yourself? Or are you too lost in the memories of others to even recall your own?"

It was a question that struck deeper than you had anticipated. You, who had shed your mortal form long ago to live as a memetic entity, could not remember the life you once lived. The body you had was but a vessel, an illusion of the past. Yet you held the memories of countless lives, each one a thread in the grand tapestry of existence.

"I remember," you said quietly, your voice distant, as if recalling a long-forgotten dream. "But only fragments. I carry the memories of all those I've encountered, of all the lives I've touched. And in that, I live."

Ratio stared at you, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes—a momentary crack in his armor. "Fascinating," he murmured, as if the concept of your existence challenged everything he had ever known. "You are a paradox, then. A being of memory, yet unable to fully grasp your own existence. How… tragic."

You tilted your head slightly. "Perhaps. But in some ways, it’s beautiful. Every life I encounter becomes a part of me, and in that, I become part of them. A perpetual exchange, a never-ending cycle of remembrance."

Ratio’s lips quirked upward slightly, a rare and almost imperceptible smile. "Perhaps," he echoed, his voice tinged with something akin to admiration. "You might be right, after all. Memory is the only true form of immortality. But don’t forget, my Memokeeper, that intellect and knowledge are what shape the universe. Without them, memory would be meaningless."

You met his gaze, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "And without memory, even the greatest intellects would fade into obscurity, leaving nothing behind."

For a moment, you both stood there, two beings of immense knowledge and power, staring at one another in the midst of a universe that seemed both infinite and fleeting. In that fleeting moment, there was no need for words. You understood each other, in a way that few could.

As you turned to leave, your final words lingered in the air, like a soft melody, echoing across time itself.

"Remember me, Dr. Ratio. After all, that is the only way I can truly exist."

He watched you disappear into the endless flow of time, his mind racing with questions, with curiosity. The Memokeeper had left an impression, a memory etched into his mind. And though Ratio would continue his work, seeking to change the world through intellect and knowledge, something had shifted within him.

Perhaps, in the end, the preservation of memory and the pursuit of knowledge were not so different after all.

The Astral Express hummed with the faint rhythm of its journey through the stars, its steady pulse a stark contrast to the turbulent thoughts that swirled within Sunday’s mind. He stood by the window, watching the unending expanse of the cosmos pass by, his eyes reflecting distant stars. His thoughts were as fractured as ever—an unyielding dissonance between his ideals and the weight of his past. Yet, there was something different now, something new stirring in him, as if the winds of change were gently sweeping through his world.

You, the Memokeeper, stood just a few steps away from him, an enigmatic presence, yet somehow, your existence felt more real than anything else. Your presence was like an anchor in a sea of uncertainty, a testament to a truth he had not yet fully grasped.

To think is to exist.

He had never truly questioned his existence in this way before. For all his lofty ideals about dreams, suffering, and the balance between them, there was something about you—your quiet, eternal purpose—that made him reconsider his place in the universe.

You had explained, on occasion, the nature of your kind. A Memokeeper’s task was to collect memories, to preserve them as proof of existence in a world where everything, even stars, would eventually fade. Unlike most, who viewed reality and imagination as distinct, Memokeepers saw them as one. It was a perspective that intrigued Sunday deeply, yet he struggled to fully comprehend it. Perhaps because, in the end, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

"How do you hold on to something so... fleeting?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a weight that betrayed the many layers of his thoughts.

You turned toward him, your expression serene, but there was a flicker of something deeper in your eyes, an understanding of the burden he carried. "We don't hold on to it. We let it flow through us, and in doing so, we become it."

Sunday looked at you, his gaze lingering on the delicate curve of your cheek, the ethereal quality of your being, and how it seemed as though you were made of light itself. "Do you ever feel... trapped by your memories?" His voice faltered at the question, as though he were reaching for something he couldn’t quite touch.

For a moment, there was silence, save for the distant hum of the train and the occasional flicker of stars outside. You took a step closer, your fingers brushing lightly against the air as you spoke, your voice gentle and calm.

"Trapped?" you mused. "No. We are the keepers, not the prisoners. Memories are not chains. They are bridges."

His brow furrowed slightly. "But what if the memories are of things you can never change? Things that haunt you?" His words were quieter now, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. The weight of his past—of the choices he had made, of the lives he had shaped, for better or worse—pressed down on him once more.

You studied him with a knowing gaze, as though seeing through the veil of his facade. "Hauntings are but echoes of what was, Sunday. The question is not whether the memories are painful, but whether we let them define us." You paused, letting your words settle. "What you choose to do with them—that is what matters."

Sunday’s eyes flickered as if a distant thought had just emerged, one that had been buried beneath layers of rationality and philosophy. He had spent so long trying to change the world, trying to create a place free of suffering, that he had neglected the simplest truth: he could not change the past. He could only move forward.

"But how?" he asked, his voice filled with quiet desperation. "How can I move forward, when the past keeps whispering in my ears?"

You smiled softly, a knowing, almost maternal expression on your face. "You are already moving forward, Sunday. Your journey on the Astral Express is proof of that. The question is not if you will move forward, but how you will choose to remember."

There it was again: remember. It was a word he had often associated with pain, with the weight of regret and guilt, but somehow, in your presence, it felt lighter. It felt like a possibility, a way to reclaim something precious without being bound to it.

For the first time in a long while, Sunday allowed himself to truly look at you. Not just as a fellow traveler aboard the Express, but as someone who embodied a truth he had yet to accept.

"I... I think I understand," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Memories are not the end of us. They can be... a part of something greater."

You nodded, your eyes fluttering slightly as you gazed at him with an expression of quiet encouragement. "Exactly. And sometimes, the greatest gift you can give to the past is to let it go, while still carrying it with you."

Sunday fell silent, his mind now processing your words, considering their implications. Perhaps this was the true path to redemption—not the erasure of pain, but the acceptance of it, and the ability to carry it without letting it define him.

As the train continued its journey through the stars, Sunday found himself standing a little taller. He wasn’t sure where this journey would take him, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he might finally be on the right path.

In the labyrinthine corridors of the IPC, where deals and schemes wove through the very fabric of power, Aventurine stood as an enigma, a master of manipulation with a heart haunted by the ghosts of his past. His smile, enigmatic and ever-present, was a mask that concealed the fractured man beneath. The ‘Aventurine of Stratagems,’ a name he wore with pride, was a title earned through unrelenting gambles and sacrifices, yet it was the one thing that kept him from truly losing himself.

But on this particular day, something—or rather, someone—was pulling at the threads of his carefully constructed world. Someone who didn’t need to gamble to see through the veil.

You. The Memokeeper.

A fleeting figure, a whisper of another existence, you moved through worlds unrestrained by physical boundaries. Memokeepers were creatures of memories—preservers of the immortal, the eternal. You had no flesh, no true form. Only the shifting remnants of memories you carried with you, the fragments of countless lives you had touched and stolen.

When Aventurine first encountered you, he had been intrigued. Memokeepers were not common, and your mysterious nature had piqued his interest. But it was your ability to navigate through time and space, your unflinching grasp of memory as a permanent artifact, that truly captivated him.

"You never forget, do you?" Aventurine's voice was smooth, laced with his signature mix of challenge and curiosity as you stood across from him in a darkened room, a flicker of memory flashing in your eyes.

You tilted your head slightly, a soft, almost imperceptible smile gracing your lips. "For a moment, I thought you would say 'never forgive.'" You said it with an air of knowing, your voice gentle yet profound. "But no... you are too familiar with your own regrets to seek forgiveness."

Aventurine’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. The hint of vulnerability did not go unnoticed. The last surviving member of a lost clan, haunted by survivor's guilt—those wounds ran deep. His facade was usually flawless, but before you, it felt fragile, a thin layer barely holding back a flood of emotions he hadn’t let surface in years.

"You speak as though you understand me," he remarked, his voice regaining its usual confidence. "But I’ve played this game for too long to be an open book."

"Yet, here you are," you countered, stepping closer, the air thick with the power of your words. "A man who wagers lives as easily as others breathe. Do you think I can't see the stakes you're playing for? The past you can never escape?"

There was a moment of silence, one where Aventurine’s usual bravado seemed to crack slightly, revealing the ever-present tension in his posture, the subtle guarding of his left hand behind his back. He wasn't ready to expose his fragility, not yet.

"You play with the illusion of luck," you continued, your voice almost hypnotic. "But I know what you really seek. You gamble because you fear being forgotten, because you fear that if you stop playing, your existence will cease to matter."

Aventurine’s eyes narrowed, gleaming with a mixture of challenge and intrigue. He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words, but his tone remained steady. "And what of you, Memokeeper? Are you truly immortal, or just a collector of lies?"

You didn’t flinch. "Memory is the only true immortality. Everything fades—worlds, stars, even gods. But memories... memories last longer than anything else. They are what make us real. What make us matter."

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into that all-too-familiar grin. "I suppose you would say that. After all, you're in the business of making things last forever."

Aventurine’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, and for a brief instant, he wondered what it would be like to have his memory preserved—not his reputation or his empire, but his very essence. Would someone like you, a Memokeeper, truly see him for who he was beneath the layers of strategy and artifice?

"I’ve seen countless memories," you said, your voice soft but heavy with meaning. "But there's something about you... You're not a mere gambler, not just someone who risks it all. There's something darker in you, a longing for connection, yet a fear of it."

He looked at you with raised eyebrows, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "You really think you can see all that from just a glance?"

"You show more than you think," you said, your gaze steady, your words unshaken. "And it's those little things—the way you hide your left hand, the pauses in your speech, the smile that never reaches your eyes—that tell me you are more than the games you play."

The silence stretched, an unspoken challenge between you. He couldn’t deny it. He had always thought of himself as untouchable, an orchestrator of every move. But you? You had no need for power or control. You simply existed, transcendent and free.

And yet, despite all that, Aventurine felt something strange stirring within him—a desire to be remembered, not just for his gambles, but for the man he truly was.

"Perhaps you're right," he finally said, his voice quieter, more contemplative. "Perhaps there is more to me than even I realize."

You smiled, a soft, knowing expression, and for the first time, Aventurine’s smile seemed a little less rehearsed, a little more genuine. The idea of someone, a Memokeeper no less, understanding the depths of his soul was an uncomfortable yet fascinating thought.

"I don’t need to gamble to know your worth, Aventurine," you said, your eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible warmth. "But perhaps, just once, you might stop playing and let someone else remember you. For who you really are."

For the first time in a long while, Aventurine didn’t immediately respond with a quip or a strategy. He simply watched you, his mind turning, calculating the possibilities. What would it mean to be remembered? To be seen beyond the mask of the gambler, the strategist, the survivor?

In that moment, Aventurine felt the first stirrings of a gamble he had never before considered: the gamble of letting someone in.

Oh damn, this was long af... 🫣😨

Also I couldn't come up with a better title so yeah...🧍‍♀️

[hrtwayne]

Home || Lady Alcina Dimitrescu

Pairing: Lady Alcina Dimitrescu x Wife!Reader [Resident Evil Au!]

Summary: Where Alcina watches you and Bela tending to the castle's flowers!

Note: English is not my first language!!

Warning: None!

MASTERLIST

Y/n walked gracefully through the Dimitrescu Castle's garden, sunlight filtering through the canopy of ancient trees. Her steps were firm and confident, embodying a woman who had become an essential part of the intricate workings of that majestic place. The title of Second Lady, once unimaginable, had become her official role alongside Alcina Dimitrescu.

Among her daily tasks, one peculiar responsibility always awaited her: tending to the flowers. Bela, Alcina's eldest daughter, often accompanied her during these moments. Their relationship was more than just stepmother and stepdaughter; it was a bond of genuine affection, a connection that transcended blood ties. To Bela and her sisters, Y/n was not only a maternal figure but also a friend and confidant.

As they strolled through the colorful flowerbeds, Bela expressed her impatience with the task, a reflection of the Dimitrescu family's fiery temperament. However, Y/n, with her captivating serenity, turned every moment into an opportunity for learning and joy.

"Mother, these roses are taking so long to grow!" Bela exclaimed, frustrated.

Y/n smiled, gently stroking the delicate petals.

"Flowers have their own time, dear. We cannot rush nature, but we can appreciate every phase of its growth."

Y/n watched as Bela slowly began to relax, finding enchantment in patience and meticulous care. She taught her to prune delicately, water attentively, and speak to the plants as if they were close confidants.

Meanwhile, Alcina observed from afar, a tender smile gracing her lips. It was a portrait of the harmony Y/n had brought to her world—a presence that not only filled gaps but also strengthened existing bonds. Beside her, Cassandra, one of her younger daughters, voiced what Alcina felt in her heart.

"Having her in our lives was the best thing that ever happened to us, don’t you think, Mother?" Cassandra said, her eyes shining with admiration.

Alcina nodded softly.

"Yes, my dear. She brought light to our shadowed castle, turning it into a true home."

As the sun set slowly on the horizon, the garden bore witness not only to the blooming of roses and tulips but also to the flourishing of bonds and affections between a woman, her stepdaughters, and the castle's matriarch. There, in that garden, the seeds of love, care, and understanding grew as vividly as the flowers they tended.

"Y/n," Alcina murmured sincerely. "Thank you for everything you've done for me and my daughters. You’ve brought a light I never could have imagined into our lives. The love and care you give are priceless."

Y/n lifted her gaze slightly, meeting the eyes of the woman she loved. A tender smile graced her lips as she listened to Alcina’s words.

"Alcina, I only followed what my heart told me to do. Taking care of you and your daughters is what completes me, what brings me joy and purpose. There’s nothing I desire more than to stand by your side, supporting and loving you and your girls," Y/n replied calmly.

Alcina's eyes glimmered with deep gratitude and overflowing love. She gently cupped Y/n’s face, cherishing every moment as if it were too precious to let slip away.

In that moment, Dimitrescu Castle bore witness not only to the grandeur of its towering spires and imposing halls but also to the simple, intangible beauty of a love blossoming between two women bound by ties beyond time and creation. A love that echoed through the corridors, enveloping not just Alcina and Y/n but also her daughters, transforming that shadowed place into a home filled with affection and warmth.

[tinfoil-jones]

Question:why is Jerk Ford like this? From what I understand nobody seemed to have bullied him at all so did he just come out of the womb and thought "I'm gonna be a menace to everyone and everything"? That would be so funny-

There's a lot of reasons why the other Fords hate Jerk Ford.

Like, a lot of reasons. You don't get called "Jerk Ford" for no reason.

But one of those reasons is that any given version Stanford Pines is going to be defined by his scientific curiosity, and interest in finding the answers to mysteries.

The frustrating thing about Jerk Ford? They cannot, for the life of them, figure out why he's such a jerk. There's no real answer and they hate that.

Nothing particularly bad ever happened to him compared to other versions of himself. Bill didn't traumatize him, he got over any feelings of betrayal from his brother, he was mean to people before they could try to bully him as a kid, and Fiddleford never started a cult.

He's not even evil. He doesn't want to kill people, take over the world, or even be renowned in the scientific community. He just wants to be a petty b***h to everyone.

And he doesn't lack empathy. No, he has empathy, but what makes him a jerk is that he chooses not to use it.

Guilt, doubt, shame, and fear are just words to him.

Canon Ford? Canon Ford hears about him for the first time and asks himself "Surely he can't be that bad? He's just another me at the end of the day." And then it turned out, he really was that bad. So I don't think they would have interacted much. I do imagine this exchange happened, however:

Canon Ford: Why are you SUCH A JERK? Jerk Ford: This can't be the first time you've looked into a mirror.

A physical fight is possible; the MAB-3L dimension from Lost Legends showed several alternate versions of Mabel interact without destroying the dimension, so we're gonna act like 'you'll collapse the entire dimension if you interact with an alternate you' isn't a thing. However, Jerk Ford is a hater, not a fighter. His mouth is always writing checks the rest of him can't cash. Canon Ford could absolutely beat his a** if he wasn't so good at getting under your skin and escaping when you're too upset to pin him down.

And Jerk Ford has always been like this. He was like this growing up. He was like this straight out of the womb. Even as a baby he was a jerk, he'd be that baby who would cry on an airplane flight just to stop as soon as the flight ended.

Stan has never known his twin brother to be any different, he knows he's a jerk to everyone except him, so he tries to minimize the damage. He insists that even though Jerk Ford is an a**hole, he does care he just struggles to show it. But no one so far has believed him, not even their family.

Hell, the reason Filbrick didn't kick Stanley out this time around is because Jerk Ford told him "You know, without Stanley around, I don't have any reason to hold back."

"Hold back? You're the biggest menace in all of Glass Shard Beach, and you expect me to believe you've been holding back?"

"Are you going to take that risk, Pa?"

(He didn't take the risk, they'd been banned from so many places already because of Jerk Ford)

[gallusrostromegalus]

I think there's two things going on in canon about Aizen:

Aizen doesn't kill captains in the first big battle of his betrayal because he can't.

1. The doylist explanation of his actions is so blatantly transparent (shonen jump scheduling hell) that it overwhelms the subtle watsonian clues that kubo gives us which are:

2. Aizen is a lying bitch. To absolutely everyone around him, but most of all, to himself.

He takes great pains to disguise it. He talks a big game and definitely tries his best to kill, but he doesn't. it makes tactical sense for him to kill at least SOMEONE before fucking off to hueco Mundo but even the fucking off belies the problem. He's a tough customer, but if he really were capable of killing another captain in a fight, he wouldn't have bothered with the whole fake corpse theater- he would have just picked them off one by one while quietly completing the hogyoku until Yamamoto had straight-up run out of strong enough shinigami to promote and Aizen had made himself a god while nobody was looking.

Instead, Aizen's plan relies on (and fails at) having the captains kill each other, and building an army of warm bodies to put between himself and the rest of the Court Guard until the Hogyoku is complete, which pretty much screams "I cannot win, even in a pitched fight".

EVEN WHEN THE HOGYOKU IS COMPLETE, Aizen doesn't stick around to actually finish off the captains- he bolts to the living world AGAIN and shuts the portal doors behind him.

-

Now that we know that Aizen is mostly smoke and mirrors who is desperately trying to stay alive until his godhood hax kick in, his pattern of avoidance of real threats reveals something interesting:

It's funny that you mention him being afraid of Yamamoto because I think he is afraid, but not of Yamamoto. Aizen doesn't want anyone to think he's scared of anything, but it's better you think it's Yamamoto than The Actual Problem. If you ignore everything Aizen says and just look at how close he's willing to even let other captains get to his person, there is one captain he's TERRIFIED of above all others.

He spends exactly one scene in the same room with them, and only when he knows the meeting is ending early.

He absolutely refuses to taunt them- in fact, they're the person he spends the most time trying to convince that he is actually dead.

When confronted by the various captains, he glaots a bit and then tries to kill them- except one, whole monologues at exactly long enough for Gin to cause a distraction, and then DIPS. He even cuts his big monologue at the execution grounds short because this Captain is incoming.

When the finale of the winter war begins, Aizen makes a point of not being in the same dimension as this captain, and when they're approaching, he leaves for the living world.

Again and again and again, there is one captain, one person, that Aizen stays far, far away from:

Unohana.

I don't think this is intentional on Kubo's part, (unless it's severely underplayed foreshadowing which is a shame) but given how kubo treats his female characters and how he doesn't really seem to understand what a doctor does, I think Aizen's pattern of staying the hell away from Unohana is accidental, but it's my fic and I can have it be on purpose because it reveals some truly delicious motivation and interaction.

1. AEIWAM!Aizen (and to a similar extent, canon!Aizen) regularly squanders perfectly good resources or chances to fix the inequities of soul society because he's too far up his own ass to see the forest for the trees. One of the cheif blindspots he has is his rampant misogyny. Aizen regards the relationship between Gin and Rangiku as that of child and toy. He treats Momo as a disposable tool instead of recognizing she was the one who got closest to actual killing any of the other captains. He seems to think the royal guard themselves will be easy to deal with- possibly because the only one he ever knew in person was Hikifune, and it is so, so easy for a man like him to wildly low all the power and competence of someone like her. He rambles about the hollows having no inner life, but notably it's Hallibel that triggers this rant. It NEVER occurs to him that Orihime herself could be a problem - she's just a toy to take from Ichigo.

Aizen, simply put, does not think of women as people. He disregards the interiority of everyone around him, really, but ESPECIALLY the women around him.

...but this kind of objectification cuts both ways. Like most bigots, his inability to think of certain humans as people means he is also prone to greatly inflate the damage they can do in his mind until they become supernatural entities. "The Enemy is both pathetic and omnipotent" is an important basis of victim complexes, and Aizen Loooooves being the victim, so it makes PERFECT SENSE that his personal Boogeyman is none other than the woman he knows entirely as the quiet and dutiful doctor who has never set foot in battle but that all the older shinigami seem strangely eager to placate. Unohana is pathetically weak, so far as Aizen can tell, yet seems to effortlessly command the respect he so desperately craves. No wonder she lives rent-free in his head.

2. ... Ironically, Aizen is right about her. In canon, Unohana's past as the first kenpachi is not a secret, just largely forgotten. In AEIWAM, it's an actual secret because the Gotei-13 is playing a much more fraught game with the C46. Aizen genuinely has no idea she used to be captain of the 11th, so the weird bloodthirsty edges that he sometimes sees to her reiatsu, and the respect she commands with the other (smarter) captains is baffling.

In truth, Unohana is every inch the monster she was as a kenpachi as she is a medic. Flesh is hers to command and her willingness to cut and sculpt it to her desires hasn't changed- she is just now also capable of healing and reviving it into shape as well, which is much, much worse.

I haven't decided exactly how much Aizen knows about her by the time of his betrayal, but at least on a subconscious level, I think Aizen knows that Unohana is punching in a league well above most of the captains, if not above the old man himself at this point, and his inability to think of her as human means he is unable to assign human motives to her like most of his victims, so she appears terrifyingly unpredictable.

3. Even if it's a secret, some of the captains know, or have guessed. She was still Kenpachi when Shunsui and Ukitake started at the academy. Soi Fon is responsible for handling some of soul society's most sensitive information. Zaraki got his ass handed to him by her and has been in love ever since. Rangiku looked into giving blood once and realized that the most of donors to transplants didn't add up and the meat had to be coming from SOMEWHERE and oh wait that would explain everything huh.

There's a fun bit of play, I think, between the captains who knows Unohana is more than she at first appears, and the ones who haven't gotten a clue yet.

I may have wandered off topic.

MY POINT IS: Aizen doesn't kill captains when it makes tactical sense for him to do so because he is not capable of doing so. His whole strategy relies on not getting killed before he gets his godhood and up until he does, he's running like a rat.

Poor bastard.

If only he knew what was in store for him when he got there.

I did not care at all for Aizen Sosuke when I first read bleach. I found him boring, and worst, unthreatening.

So it's pretty jarring for me that I have been OBSESSED with him in your AU. I'm rotating him at great speed

Walt Disney was a jackass who was flat-out wrong about a lot of very important things, but he employed a great many geniuses of storytelling, and there's a piece in Disney Animation: The Illusion of Life by Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnson that discusses a key feature of Disney Studios Character Design:

"Of all characters, villains are the most fun to develop because they make everything else happen. They are the instigators, and always more colorful than the Hero. They may be dramatic, awesome, insidious or semi-comic, but they MUST be appealing. Almost any story becomes innocuous if all the evil is eliminated, but we do not necessarily gain strength by being frightening. we want a character that will hold the audience and entertain them, even if it's a Chilling Type of Entertainment."

And I've found that to be an important principle of character design, especially the kind of canon restructuring I do.

Aizen had a LOT going for him in canon- for all of Bleach's other faults, Aizen's conspiracy and THE REVEAL are spectacularly constructed and executed. I legit screamed and threw my mug across my dorm room when I read it in the manga the first time. He's also conventionally attractive and the translations I was reading gave him the speech patterns of Every Douchebag In Your 101 Political Theory Who Thinks He's The Smartest Man In The Room, which made him a terrific combination of Unfortunately Charming, Menacingly Competent and Engagingly Obnoxious.

...But he falls flat in a few key places.

Aizen's reasoning could be MUCH more sympathetic- After all, he is RIGHT. Soul Sciety does suck ass and all the options kind of suck. Who designs a universe like that? An asshole who needs killing, that's who. The best kind of Unhinged Madmen are the kind who spell out their reasoning and you realize that there but for the grace of Not Having Super Powers Go I. Canon!Aizen makes a few Good Rhetorical Points, but seems to lack any personal connection to his all-consuming plan.

Another issue is that nearly every villain with A Plan has a clear end goal AND a lot of the menace is drawn from the fact that the plan *could* work. Aizen's plan for betraying the court guard and then killing them off before proceeding into the Royal Realm to Kill God sorta falls apart when it's clear he planned to use pretty much all his accumulated forces dealing with the court guard and doesn't seem to have a plan for the Even More Powerful Royal Guard, let alone God. For how meticulously planned the rest of the plot is, the last two VERY IMPORTANT steps are just handwaved.

So I sat down and started with the plot beats Aizen MUST hit, and tried to imagine what kind of guy would he have to be to get there? And I came up with this:

Sosuke Aizen is a fundamentally good man with genuinely good intentions who is really trying his best for the whole world.

Think about it- what lengths would you NOT go to if you think you found a genuine shot at Fixing Everything Wrong With The World Forever? We all talk about killing Hitler if we found an actual Time Machine- would you do it if your only chance was when he was a baby? Would you kill an infant if it meant you could stop World War II before it starts? Of course you would! One small life for over 75 million? You'd be insane not to! What if you found out that you could prevent the future extinction of Humanity by killing your best friend today? Ten Billion lives? For theirs? It's simple, really- Hell, it's your Moral Obligation to do that if you were SURE!

-And Aizen IS sure. He is absolutely, totally, completely sure that He Can Save Everyone if he just gets rid of that idiot sitting on the throne of heaven. He's seen the plans! He knows where the gate of heaven is! It's So SIMPLE he just has to get inside, and he knows EXACTLY how to do it, yes it'll be hard and there will be... unpleasant parts but. IT. WILL. WORK.

He is of course, insane.

Aizen didn't have One Bad Day that set him irrevocably on the path of madness. It was a succession of catastrophic disappointments and realizations that he was living in a fundamentally irrational world that made irrational thinking look sane. The Catastrophe that befell his family, working for the central 46 and later the court guard and seeing how the organizations were inept to the point of abuse or corrupt to the core, learning that The Actual House Of God is a place he can just? Go to? Anyone would start thinking you were just a handful of white lies and homicides away from Fixing Everything, Forever.

Not only is Aizen insane, he is nowhere near as smart as he thinks. He is smart- He does have a knack for being able to guess just what will spur someone to action or make them recoil in fear. But mostly he gets extremely lucky Many, Many, MANY times. On some level I think it gives him Confirmation Bias that this is what he's supposed to be doing. Aizen is also nowhere near as smart as (nearly) everyone else thinks he is. His bizarrely good luck makes him look like a hyper-competent genius when really it was really the catastrophic failure of Soul Society as a Society that let a merely mediocre conspirator to evade detection for so long.

Being that he is at most, mediocre, he had to have Outside Help, specifically Gin's emotional support and Tousen's Competence- and if there's a part of the fic that stays true to canon, it's this.

Gin is Aizen's emotional rock in Canon. He's the ONE guy that Aizen genuinely trusts, and considers his 'my only real partner' in his scheme. There's more than one occasion in the manga where Aizen more or less asks Gin "Is this actually a good idea?" and Gin backs him up every time.

...Which is more than a bit at odds with Gin's later stated goal of "I did all this to kill you at your most vulnerable to protect rangiku" . It never rang true to me. So I started thinking why on EARTH Gin would be backing Aizen up like that, and realized there was a hole in my world building that he slotted into nicely :)

On the other hand, the entire fic was started because I didn't like how Tousen's character arc ended, so you can imagine how much he's changed.

But in canon, TOUSEN DOES ALL THE FUCKING WORK.

Lab work? Tousen.

Supervising the arrancar directly? Tousen

Actually getting victims for the Hogyoku experiments? Tousen.

Altering all the archives to keep Aizen's plot hidden? Tousen.

Sending all the Orders allegedly from the central 46? Tousen.

Making sure Unohana believes Aizen's fake body is real? Tousen.

Managing all the day-to-day operations at Las Noches? Tousen.

There's even this little exchange, which is Tousen's first appearance in the Manga:

Aizen establishes this entire meeting is a little fake-out a few pages later with "now isn't that a convenieint time for the alarm to go off?"

which makes him look like he's investigating, but he's also going "Good job on disrupting everyone with the alarm Gin!" It's ballsy of Aizen to do a check-in on his plan with his main nemesis in the room, but also his style.

I think the same thing is happening here with Tousen. To make sure Ukitake wouldn't raise a huge fit about the proposed execution of his beloved lieutenant, which might fuck everything up for Aizen because Ukitake is one of like, three people Yamamoto will listen to (sort of).

...So he had Tousen poison Ukitake to keep him out of the way.

ALL. THE. FUCKING. WORK. It's even in his name! The characters for "Tousen" Refer to a legendary scholar the emperor of China sent out to discover the secret of immortality- only to kill the scholar when he returned with that secret. The character for "Kaname" means "Necessary/Vital/keystone" or "to organize/take account of". His name LITERALLY means "Scholar who is essential for the plan (that we're going to kill later)"

Another thing Kubo did well in Bleach: his name game is Off The Fucking Charts.

-but I digress.

In AEIWAM, it's much the same only this time Aizen sees this very dangerous witness who is immune to his illusions but also extremely snart and capable young man and instead of risking being caught out by the one damn guy who can see right through him, opts to Curse Kaname into doing as Aizen says, and doing all the fucking work of this conspiracy against his will.

It's Not Nice, but Aizen genuinely thinks he's doing Kaname a favor by subjecting him to this degrading and incredibly painful servitude- I mean, Aizen's only other option was to Kill him to keep his silence, and isn't it wonderful that you get to help fix the universe? You're the one always going on about Justice, I don't understand why you didn't jump at the chance to mete out some Divine Justice.

An Excerpt from the captain's meeting in between the Massacre that made the visored and Zaraki's arrival, when Kaname realizes Yamamoto is 100% serious about his promotion to captain of the 9th and goes to throw up in the garden. Aizen offers to go check on him while Unohana very politely reads the general the riot act:

---

"You broke your toy Aizen." Kaname coughs.

"…I really am sorry for running you ragged like this. I really shouldn't have gotten so mad about you hiding the the hogyoku- it was very petty of me." The bastard sighs, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face, entirely genuine.

Kaname stayed on his hands and knees, weaving slightly as another wave of nausea flowed through him, powered by disgust and rage.

"How about this- I've got a lot coming up with the new job, training Gin and disposing of Kiganjo- So how about I promise to not give you any orders for a while? You will have to keep our arrangement a secret and not interfere, of course, but other than that, you're free to do as you please for- a year and a day is traditional isn't it? No, that's not going to heal by then- Oh, would you look at that!"

Kaname didn't have the strength to offer his usual rebuttal that he won't look at anything, ever. The sides of his head tingle like his skul was being pressed between two enormous hands made of static electricity.

"It's 11:11! Alright, I won't give you any Orders until 11:11 am on November 11th, 1911. That's easy to remember! What do you think?" Aizen continued cheerfully, patting his back and the Curse nails.

"…I can't." Kaname groaned. He could scream if he had the energy, but due to Aizen's Illusions, nobody would hear him. "I actually physically can't think. Please…"

"Of course! You really are such a help to me, it would be a shame to lose you. I'll even amend our contract, so you don't get paranoid-" There was a sizzling sound and a new stroke of hot pain up Kaname's spine as Aizen did something to the wretched Bakudo. "There. No compulsions for eleven years and a day. What do you say?"

Kaname grimaced, but dropped his head. Save the energy to fight another day. "…thank you, Aizen-sama."

"Good man! Let's get you on your feet." Aizen beamed, putting his glasses back on and offering him an arm.

---

He genuinely thinks that he's doing everyone a huge favor and if they don't get it it's because they're just not smart enough, but it's alright, He's a Benevolent God and they'll appreciate all his hard work the next time around :)

Aizen is a man who is FULL of joy. He loves what he does! He actively takes pleasure in it! And I think that's something that REALLY delivers in terms of sympathy AND horror for him. Who *Wouldn't* have a great time actually fixing the universe? He's a good man who enjoys doing good works, and this is the greatest work of all!

It also Delivers on the Horror when I get to write the deliciously fun scenes where Aizen is Elbows-deep in a novel War Crime and waxing poetic about how GREAT this is, or being confused why the people around him are reacting with fear. Don't you want to make everything better too?

[jeguluses]

regulus waking up and snuggling up to james’ back thinking he is still asleep but as soon as he makes contact, he feels a full body shudder go through his husband.

“james? what’s wrong? are you…are you crying?”

regulus’ heart breaks when there’s only a sob in response.

“baby? tell me what’s wrong. what happened, jamie?” regulus sits up, leaning over james’ body and inspecting his tear stained face for any hint of what caused him to wake up like this.

james shakes his head, smiling sheepishly through the wetness on his face. “i’m okay.”

regulus frowns, feeling helpless. “don’t lie to me. you’re obviously not okay.”

“no, really, i’m fine. i promise. “ james turns so they’re facing each other, reaching up to place both hands on regulus’ cheeks, releasing a sigh filled with contentment.

“but why are you crying?”

at this, james giggles bashfully. “it’s just that we have such a beautiful life, regulus. no one understands me like you do. no one loves me like you do and no one ever could love me like you. we’ve invested so much effort into making this house perfect for us.“

“our wedding was a dream come true. not to mention, we’re raising the coolest and smartest people i’ve ever met in my life. i never get sick of it honestly,” james tells regulus, sighing again and moving into his personal space in order to rest his head on regulus’ thigh.

regulus’ chest feels warm at the honest love in james’ voice. he slips his fingers into his husband’s hair, softly detangling the knots from sleeping. “i don’t understand. that makes you sad?”

james closes his eye as he says, “i’m just so happy. so grateful to have met you.”

regulus feels nauseated with the amount of affection that wells up inside of him at james’ candid words. he’s not even trying to smooth talk regulus, he truly feels this way.

shit. now, regulus wants to cry.

“i’m really happy too,” he whispers, still petting james’ curls.

“you are?” james asks, not disbelieving but wanting confirmation all the same.

regulus smiles even though james cannot see. “very happy.”

“good,” james hums. “thank you.”

“for what?”

“for respecting me and trusting me. for caring for me and making me a better person.”

james sighs a third time as regulus digs his fingers into his scalp the way he likes. “for loving me.”

“it has, and will continue to be,” regulus says, mirroring james’ conviction, “and honor to love and be loved by you, james potter.”

[wisteriagoesvroom]

a couple of people have asked for a carlos POV of in theory and actually. thinking about it. it's pretty funny. imagine being carlos, carlos who gets everything in his life he's ever wanted carlos, carlos who feels he has nothing further to prove to anyone carlos (this is a lie btw), carlos who gets saddled with OSCAR, who barely tolerates him, as an executive assistant.

oscar who shows few emotions. doesn't give a f about seniority. thinks carlos is incredibly arrogant (he's not wrong here but, like recognises like.) oscar who knows carlos can't even do his own expenses without having an emotional support espresso or spending half an hour whining to oscar even though he did it himself years before oscar even joined, etc etc.

and carlos has to. endure it. while oscar blatantly ignores his charm offensive and his attempts at being jovial and his bad bilingual puns and carlos, because everyone usually loves carlos, and he-- he just. he cannot for the life of him figure out why he's also so compelled by this australian dude. doesn't know what to do with himself. just keeps interactions to a transactional minimum and puts up a front like he is soooo curt and uncaring about everything but. the warmth seeps through anyway, a vine that's destined to grow despite his attempts not to let it.

so what, if carlos lies awake in bed with racing thoughts too late at night thinking of revenues and EBITDA and platinum tiers and air miles. so what, if this sometimes bleeds into thoughts regarding his work-life balance or lack thereof, and therefore, oscar's stupid little hair swoop, his frown. his insane excel sheet formulas that even carlos, MBA graduate, takes a second to understand. oscar and his indifference and his scary efficiency and the way he talks a bit too fast when he's tipsy and his ice cold hands.

(at the christmas party with yuki. carlos pretends not to listen but hears every word. why would oscar tell yuki all that, and not him, when he’s tried to ask about oscar's interests before? anyway.)

and then. the christmas gifts happen and carlos thinks he's crossed a line. was the terrarium too far, he wonders. normally people love it when carlos is thoughtful like that. his exes even said so. but no! oscar takes the terrarium, the one carlos made a specific detour for on an airline that he couldn't even get miles on!

and oscar just. stares, and stares at the terrarium. then he gives carlos this...look. and it gets embarrassingly intimate and carlos "really does have to go take his call" even though the client did say it is fine to switch to email because, christmas. yeah. and then he's thinking about it the whole way back to madrid too.

then oscar QUITS on CHRISTMAS DAY (rude) for no explainable reason and carlos is like oh my god is it really ME. how can anybody not like ME ? reddit, AITA???

so carlos mulls on it. carlos wants to atone. just maybe. set things straight. let oscar know that. actually. all feelings aside, he was really an excellent EA and carlos wishes him the best with everything. he maybe sends a text to thank him with those very words. but christmas eve comes and goes, and so does christmas day, and there's no reply at all from oscar. what the hell, carlos thinks. no i can't have him leave and there's so much in my email that i – i didn't even say. he just. needs to let oscar know that he appreciated it.

(he doesn't know what "it" is per se. just that. he feels strongly. so he needs to do something about that.)

soooooo then carlos, who values for family more than anything in the world, spends christmas day just only half paying attention to things going on and thinking jesus, what did i do. and his sisters are like, hermano, please just. get it together and sort this out if you care so much. we'll be fine with mamá and papá and piñón okay there's roast ham for days. and his ma is like: "if you are visiting someone at least pack some dessert. where are your manners". and carlos is like "what". and his mum is like: "did i not teach you anything at all. are you or are you not a sainz". so carlos just takes his tiramisu and his sister's teasing and. he goes. might even try to pull a favour from a client to use a private jet and get there in time.

he flies back to the city in a fit of possible stupidity to try and clarify... his feelings for oscar his professional record and integrity.

and then. oscar is. actually HAPPY he is there.

(carlos knows he's happy, not because oscar's face changes. but because oscar puts his actual plant shears down in order to talk to him. which in oscar-world is a very big deal really. before, oscar always used to look like he wanted to stab carlos with a pen when carlos spoke to him. and if carlos were truly honest with himself, and hindsight being 50/50, well– he'd say that actually, the times oscar looked like he wanted to stab him were actually some of the moments he felt most alive.)

and the rest is... well.

you know how it ends.

[lyrakanefanatic]

yesterday i was thinking to myself “damn, after reading games untold, i can’t believe i ever disliked toby hawthorne”, and then i reread the end of thl.

LITERALLY WHAT WAS THIS BEHAVIOUR??? im sorry, but toby didn’t even KNOW eve at the time, so nobody can use the “but eves psychotic” excuse

like bro, you cannot sleep with HALF OF TEXAS’ FEMALE POPULATION and then decide to choose favourites. LIKE THIS ISNT A PICK AND MIX??? U DONT TAKE ONE DAUGHTER AND DISCARD THE OTHER??

the fact that he said that he would “take care of her DICREETLY” like she is some kind of threat is actually HEINOUS. and then he proceeds to go on and act all lovey dovey to his non-biological daughter who he LOVES MORE LIKE WHAT?? 😭

and yes, before anybody says anything, i know that hannah was the love of his life and averys mother, which is why he feels so much love for avery, even more than he does for eve. i get that. what i don’t get is the fact that he wanted to keep eve a secret because he didn’t know her (SHES HIS DAUGHTER???) to keep avery safe ON A WHIM.

and yes, maybe it’s good that he tried to distance the two because eve did end up being dangerous. BUT THERE IS NO WAY PEOPLE ARE SURPRISED THAT SHE DIDNT WANT TO LIVE LIKE TOBY?? 😭😭🙏

this man was trying to keep her hidden, AFTER SHE HAD SPENT HER WHOLE LIFE BEING INVISIBLE. ARE YOU JOKING.

obv im not excusing eves actions, and i don’t understand why she decided to immediately cling to vincent blake like dead skin, but i know why she didn’t want to stay invisible like toby, and the fact that he even tried to make her do that shows that he has no clue what his daughters like, let alone how to parent right.

anyways that’s my little rant. toby ily but if u EVER fix ur lips to say idiotic things and act stupid like this again ill beat your ass 🫶

[pokemonshelterstories]

I’ve had a chandelure named Val for a while now- raised him from a litwick- and since I’ve never met anyone else with one, i thought I’d ask you if this was normal.

he is CRAZILY protective- every time he isn’t balled, he lashes out at other pokemon and even people sometimes. I didn’t care much since he hadn’t hurt anyone, but last week i got harassed on the street (nothing bad, just got called weird by some kids across the road) and he sent a shadow ball flying at them- it didn’t hit them directly, but one of them got burned and I’ve been keeping Val in his ball ever since.

is this normal or is something wrong??

well, i won't say it's not unexpected given that you seem so nonchalant about the whole thing- but no, it is not normal for a chandelure to actively attack random people and pokemon, especially if it's not wild. chandelure prefer to lure prey in by hypnotizing them. a chandelure that's actively attacking outside of the context of a friendly battle is doing so because it's stressed.

i try my hardest to be understanding and nonjudgmental with trainers who are struggling, but in this case i cannot afford that. your pokemon is an active danger to others and you are not training it correctly. the fact that you weren't sued and your chandelure wasn't seized is, quite frankly, miraculous. your pokemon could have killed that child. you should never have allowed this behavior.

take your pokemon to a professional trainer and see if this can possibly be fixed. if this keeps up, something tragic is going to happen, and your chandelure is going to be euthanized. i'm going to say this in the hope that it's enough to convince you: if your pokemon is euthanized because he attacked someone, it will be your fault. you need to try to protect him by working on this behavior with professional help. even then, he may be considered too aggressive. nothing is a guarantee for him right now.

i hope for his sake that his aggression can be managed. do not let him out around other people until he can be assessed. it's unfortunate, but you need to keep him isolated for everyone's safety.