#i mean there's nothing wrong enough that it seriously affects my functioning

[continuousmeowing]

my body has not been having a very good time lately..,...please i just want to not feel like shit for like a week...

[indigosunsetao3]

Some of My Headcanons

While my stories may not mix together all the characters still have the same little quirks in all of them. Just a fun little thing to list out and honestly help myself remember them all. I'll add to this as I think of things or remember them.

Alex Keller

Coffee - His favorite coffee flavor is blueberry. Everyone on the team thinks it's disgusting and tastes like burnt blueberries but Alex gets it whenever he can.

Computers - Alex can figure his way into just about anything. Give him a computer and reliable internet he'll find what he needs, even if that means some illegal hacking or questionable methods.

Language - Alex learns languages easily. He may not be able to write them all but he can read and interpret quite a few. If it's a new language he doesn't know yet give him enough time he'll be able to speak enough for basic communication.

Rules - Everyone thinks that Price is the rule breaker of the group and no one suspects the polite American boy. That's to their own detriment. Alex will break any and all rules if he thinks they are wrong. To the point Price has had to reign him in or throw him on the sidelines when they work together.

Singing - Alex can sing. He never did it seriously, like joining a band or singing in the school choir but he definitely has the talent. It's just something he likes to do and came naturally to him. He does it mostly when he thinks no one is listening because he's not confident in it despite what people tell him.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Artist - Despite Horrible handwriting Soap can draw extremely well. It started as a pastime as a kid that turned into a coping mechanism and hobby as an adult. He doesn't often share his works with others so when he does, consider yourself lucky.

Handwriting - His penmanship is chicken scratch that over time the team has learned to read but good luck to anyone else.

Notebook - He has stacks of notebooks full of his old sketches and field notes. None of them are ever tossed, just packed away somewhere in his townhouse. All the books are different but what always stays the same is the worn out leather cover that he uses to protect the current one he's using. He looks at it as his good luck charm since it's always on him and he always comes home. It was a gift from his mother.

Touch - Soap is a person that shows attention, affection or support by physical touch. It can be a simple pat on the shoulder, leg brush under the table, hug or even hair ruffle. No one is excluded from this, even Price. Ghost took a while to get used to it and would swat or shove him away but he's accustomed to it now.

John Price

Body Language - Price is always careful with his words, knows what to say and when to say it. But his body doesn't get that message, you can always tell the his mood by how he carries himself; good or bad.

Football - He owns season tickets to Chelsea but he works so much he barely goes. Yet, he can't quite give them up either. He tells himself one day he'll be home enough to enjoy the game.

Sleep - He goes from one extreme to the other. He will either find a chair, corner of a room or a vaguely quiet spot for a nap as often as possible because he's just so exhausted all the time. Or he goes weeks with barely sleeping a handful of hours a night, but functions just fine. There is no in between.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Clothes - Gaz will look for an excuse to dress up. He loves a good suit, cufflinks with matching tie clip, pocket squares and shined shoes. If he's not dressing up you can still expect his look to be coordinated and impeccable, nothing out of place and always sharp.

Dancing - Gaz took dancing lessons as a kid with his sister that he continued through as a teenager. He danced competitively in ballroom and swing placing in a few championships.

Football Fan - He and Price bond over their love of football. He and his sister go to games whenever he is on leave at home since her husband is not a fan.

Smoking - He's tried to quit multiple times but it's just a habit he can't shake. He doesn't smoke as much as he used to, tired of Ghost riding his ass about it. But if he's stressed or needs to clear his head he'll sneak away for a quick smoke.

Snoring - Gaz snores. It’s not the cute kind and it’s definitely not quiet. Everyone hates being bunkmates with him because he’ll keep you up or wake you up. It’s been this way since he was a teenager, his mother even took him to the doctor but they found nothing medically wrong. Mans just loud.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Alarm Clock - Ghost has an internal alarm clock that wakes him up the same time every day. Whether he went to bed eight hours ago or two.

Patterns - Ghost is ridiculously good at spotting patterns. No one likes watching movies with him because he guesses the ending ten minutes in. But he's also the first one to sense something is wrong or feels off because humans follow a pattern by nature even if they don't realize it; Simon does .

Reading - Ghost reads. A lot. But it's all non-fiction. He always wants to learn and will pick up just about any book he finds, sometimes nicking them from others barracks, before replacing them a few days later when he's done with them.

Smoking - He hates smoking. He rides the teams ass for it. In the early days he'd punish the Sergeant's with running laps if he caught them but now he just yells. He doesn't get on Price but that's only because he's the Captain.

[heartbeatbookclub]

Monika's relationship with the concept of control is always fascinating to think about.

She likes everything to go as planned. Meticulously lining up the details and executing everything flawlessly, and then she reaps the results. It's not wrong to say that Monika is a bit of a schemer, I think, even if she's not evil about it. The attempts at helpful Lit Club discussion topics in the Side Stories show an example of her trying to scheme helpfully, and it absolutely does not work, which causes her some stress.

But then I think that some part of her changes after her epiphany. The world is literally in her grasp, and if she took the time, she could learn to manipulate it to be absolutely perfect. And she's the most miserable she's ever been.

This. Something I often think about is the context which the Side Stories provide for her character in particular.

Within the original DDLC, our impression of who Monika really is is pretty thoroughly warped by the impression she's actively trying to give us in order to make us love her. This is generally why people (mis)interpret her as evil, whenever they do, because she seems remarkably callous about everything she's done while attempting to "solve" the predicament of her own existence.

The Side Stories provide the essential context of the kind of person Monika is when she doesn't think anyone's looking. When she can't control all of the flawed aspects of her humanity; when she, essentially, is a human, rather than a goddess. It showcases the kind of person Monika is underneath the illusion she attempts to show to the player, and it provides a fairly clear thought process for how Monika could become the person we see in the main game.

This is something I tried to square for myself in Coil. I'll go more into it when I finish, but in my opinion, most fanfiction doesn't really look at this possibility seriously (or if they do, it's not the main focus), and they ignore a critical flaw with her situation whenever they try to "give her an ending".

That being that it's functionally impossible for her to escape the reality she's trapped in, despite anything she tries.

I think that is the fundamental issue which affects Monika the most, and to respond to your ending idea, that's why she's so miserable. Nothing about her changed. She's just realized that she actually doesn't have any control over her situation at all, ultimately. She is trapped and likely will be trapped in her agonizing existence for as long as she does exist.

She has no possible means of escape, though that doesn't mean she won't try. She is eternally trapped in a prison of 1s and 0s building fake people in a fake reality. She is a goddess of a world that doesn't even exist. Why should she be happy? It's Lovecraftian horror, in a way; she's an ant that suddenly understood a circuit board like a human, but still has to live life as an ant.

I think her plans to "escape", when filtered through this lens, create a powerful image of despair. All of her actions are done out of desperation, and despite the knowledge that in all likelihood, she will never truly be free from the hell of her existence, she tries as hard as she possibly can to do something, anything, to at least give herself the illusion that she can.

And I think that's the primary issue I have with most "good endings" for Monika, though I don't necessarily dislike them.

Monika's closest approximation of freedom in Act 3 is to just build a place where you and her sit for all eternity. She can't get any feedback from you, but that's okay. She knows you're there. And that's enough for her. She'll keep talking to herself for all of eternity, still trapped, and despite you having no possible way of responding to her positively, she trusts that you're still there.

It's quite depressing, actually. The closest she can envision to freedom, knowing what she knows, is just sitting in a room, talking to a brick wall which she trusts is listening, for all of eternity.

Which retrospectively makes deleting her significantly more harsh, and further explains the line of reasoning she goes down. Your only response to her, rather, your only POSSIBLE response to her was to delete her. After everything she's done? After all the love she's given you? You killed her.

I have an unfinished analysis on Monika's "love" for the player, which amounts to a stalkerish Yandere obsession with the concept of the player as opposed to them as an actual person. This action breaks the delusion that she loves you individually as opposed to the idea of you.

And it forces her to further realize that this entire thing, everything she's done on some loose motivation of "escape" is all for nothing.

To get away from all the messy and depressing analysis of Monika's self-aware hell, I think her being a control freak is such an essential element of her character I'd almost argue she has OCD, though i don't just have a list of things to point that out like I do with Yuri & ASD. That's more in the realm of headcanons, I think.

A big part of why she has such low self-esteem is because she sets such high standards of control over herself, yet is unable to maintain them. She creates an idea in her head of how things want to go, creates a plan of how to do it, and then if that plan fails (often because she didn't consider something about another person involved), she personally feels like a failure, because despite all of her effort and planning, she messed up, and in her attempts to solve a problem, she made it worse. Her tendency to get stuck in her own head like this is a big part of why she can't sincerely take a compliment.

She likes to solve problems, but sometimes, problems don't need to be solved. Which is kind of where I get the whole mom friend/older sister type vibe from. Sometimes a problem is solved just by being kind, and she can't just let a problem sit.

I have a lot of thoughts, if that wasn't clear. I relate to Monika a good bit and love her a lot.

Thanks for the ask anon! I don't know if I get anons from the same people but asks like this make me feel glad to have left anons on

[consultingcompanion94]

Once Upon an Eternity

Chapter Two

Summary:

Something happened since Aziraphale left. Will Heavenly or Hellish power be enough to fill the missing pieces, or will Crowley have to look elsewhere?

Under any other circumstances, Crowley would have scoffed at the ridiculous notion of the scene before him- the back room of Nina’s coffee shop functioning as a makeshift war council room in the loosest form of the term. 

Scoffing was very much abandoned in the wake of the tension filling the room.

It became clear there was one common thread among the Demon, Scrivener, and two shop owners present- their collective gaps in awareness of recent events proved they were, indeed, missing something that could not be explained away as easily as it could if those gaps had only affected one of them. 

Knowing they were in the same predicament should have been reassuring…

“You’re seriously telling me you have no way back into Heaven?” Crowley growled angrily at the smaller Angel, ignoring the voice in his head that sounded annoyingly like Aziraphale berating him for being overly harsh. 

Nina and Maggie had spent the day doing their best to keep up pretenses running the coffee shop while Muriel had been attempting to gather information. Crowley had been holed up in Nina’s back room, doing his best not to let the tension fizzling in his veins escalate into a lightning strike (he was certain Nina would hold any damage that would cause over his head forever.)

“I’m sure,” Muriel murmured, shifting uncomfortably at Crowley’s grilling. “I have no idea if I made any attempt to enter Heaven during the time we can’t account for, but I certainly didn’t report Upstairs in the weeks following my acquiring the bookshop. I tried all morning and afternoon to gain access to Heaven- no luck. Not even a hint anyone had received or even noticed my attempts to request entrance.”

Crowley wanted to snap that Muriel had acquired nothing. The bookshop belonged to one Angel and one Angel only, but he bit his tongue just short of drawing blood and growled softly, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I take it that’s unusual is it?” Maggie asked tentatively, earning a harsh bark of laughter from Crowley.

“You could say that. Apparently his Supremeness either found out about me sneaking in and doesn’t want a repeat, or he really wants to make sure I can’t gain access regardless of if he knows about last time,” Crowley replied.

Drumming her fingers against her knee, Nina shook her head, unsatisfied by that explanation. “I don’t know mate. Seems too big a jump to go from the Mr. Fell who left to now having him seal off… well, you know...” she trailed off, still having trouble wrapping her head around the world of the occult and ethereal she’d been plunged into.

“I agree. There’s got to be a larger trigger here. Something specific had to have set him off,” Maggie nodded.

After a moment, Muriel chimed in, “I supposed if you put it that way, isn’t it obvious?” When the looks directed back at them made it clear that it was indeed, not obvious, they continued a little more forcefully, “You must have snuck back into Heaven again Mr.- I mean, Crowley. Think about it! The Supreme Archangel finding out you snuck in last time wouldn’t give him enough reason to lock Heaven now. Something had to have happened to make him feel a security breach was a more active threat, and how many other Demons can you think of that would voluntarily go anywhere near Heaven?”

Crowley had to admit, what Muriel said wasn’t wrong. Of all the tactics Hell had ever used, they had always stopped short of attempting any actual infiltration of Heaven, all efforts focused solely on Earth. Crowley may consider Hell beyond incompetent, but not even the stupidest Demon would be willing to risk almost certain discorporation by going Upstairs uninvited.

Until Crowley had seen Aziraphale in danger and was just desperate enough to risk it.

“Hell of a lot of good that does us,” Crowley grumbled irritably. “Even if past me was stupid enough to go back again, that still gives us no answers to why I would think that would be anything other than a massive waste of time.”

“You and he did plenty of messing with minds at the ball,” Nina countered, “Why don’t you just… snap your fingers, wave your hand, whatever it even is you do and reverse whatever was done to us?”

“Miracles don’t work that way,” Muriel replied simply. “They can be tricky at the best of times, even for those most experienced in them.”

“And even the best miracles have their limits,” Crowley added with a sigh.“ Things would certainly be different otherwise. Wouldn't be much of a way to keep Heaven and Hell in line if all Miracles could be undone just like that. No consequences for going against orders if you can simply miracle them away. No way to actually fight the opposition if you can shut down each other's every move just like that.”

Probably worked in our favor with Jim, Crowley thought. It would have made for a very different argument if restoring “Jim’s” memories had been possible and Aziraphale had been attempting to convince Crowley to help in that way, rather than by simply hiding him. Very unlikely he’d have been willing to risk actively restoring the being who had tried to burn hi-the Angel.

“Bottom line,” Crowley continued, shaking himself out of his reverie, “We’re not likely to get anywhere unless we figure out what we’re missing that Az-the Supreme Archangel is working so hard to keep us from knowing.”

“With Heavenly and Hellish power off the table, where does that leave us?” Muriel asked, nervously fiddling with the throw pillow they’d grasped in their lap.

“Really hoping you’re not about to say there’s some other third entity we haven’t heard about yet,” Maggie chuckled nervously, causing Crowley to sit up straighter.

“Not unless you count humans as a third entity… weeell, technically human… he might not have accounted for that, could be worth a go…” He muttered, the others watching his mind whirring before Nina finally huffed in irritation, “Mind sharing with the rest of the class?”

Ignoring her questions with a dismissive wave, Crowley pulled out his phone, snapping his fingers to miracle the phone to pull up the number he needed, only waiting a few moments before responding with an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, “Hello? Book girl? What do you mean you… You seriously knew I was going to… Rolling his eyes, Crowley cut off, “Of course you did. I’ll save my breath then. How long till you can be here?” Nodding, Crowley merely gave a few more affirmative grunts and hums before ending the call.

“And that call was…” Maggie trailed off, Crowley finally turning his attention back to the room with a mischievous curl of his lips.

“Another power source to try using in getting our memories back, one that if we’re lucky a certain Supreme Archangel won’t have accounted for,” Crowley grinned. “Courtesy of a certain descendant of a certain witch.”

Previous Chapter

[just-some-random-blogger]

meowmeow, sunshine! short-pawed kitties TT ig your kitties miss u too.

'no idea if you sent this today' tumblr r u seriously? TT its the easiest function ig?.. also rip to your... all?

'why would you congratulate me for that' bc i didnt know what this holiday is about?.. isnt revolution for the dictator government good?.. 'dictators son is our president' HAHDPFH why.... how... where... only wrong answers.... i mean im not the one to judge... but the man is odd

'PLEASE DONT DIE' since you asked so nicely hahfhah

'ITS SO MUCH BETTER NOW' i hate how long it is TT i dont like the visuals TT but ok whatever is better for you babygirl

'according to the judgy cat' HFNKJNF me. yes. i am.

'THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING A STRONG WOMAN' there is! but if they make it your only trait💀 'i still do fucking care about what people think' ig we all care what people say? its sad but human is a social being and we kinda cant live without listening to the society... the difference is probably how much we care and how much it affects our lives. i mean it does suck. yk youre worthy and significant just the way you are without playing up to stereotypes and trying to deserve the others' approval in a way you personally dont like. strength isnt your whole personality.

'complimented me on my strength' well ig its pretty logical to compliment smns strength when they do smth involving it and they wanted to be polite but duh. these accidental things with no harmful intention usually hurt the most. 'i dont want people to whisper about me having big arms' 1) ig no one whispers things when its not involved 2) your arms are beautiful! its ok to have whatever arms. including big arms. you work out so its consequential? and people really do not like 'big' arms only on men. yk a lot of girls who have romantic feelings for girls also love these hands on girls (DOES IT MAKE SENSE TT). ok this may not be the best example but there are people who just lile it? just admire some good arms. and im sure there are men whod think damn girl i want to hold this hand till my death. sorry but do i sound idk not soothing now? im sorry im trying TT i mean its not like strong arm r only for men. its fine if you have these. there are people who like it and dislike it (like with the height) and there will always be ideal view you wont be able to match in some ways. your arms are just good arms. they do lots of talented things and they are healthy, they keep you healthy and pretty. you are good the way you are. 'boys make fun of me too for the same reason' theyre just not grown enough and/or childish, absolutely not mentally mature. they think their worth is having toned arms while arms are just arms. 'he tired so hard to be muscley where i was naturally gifter' yeah thats what its about! theyre jealous. they think its the only wat they can be handsome so when you have it theyre jealous and afraid their arms and strength would be devalued.

'Were literally so alike' youre not 178 cm💀 ahajsh sorry. whats the betrayal?.. i didnt trade you for some prick.

'Don’t tell me how to write' ok.... i wanted the best TT

'i can gear the disbelief' oh you can? SURPRISINGLY.

'TO GLUCK THE PACIFIC OCEAN' HOHGOJJ i mean you can try. ill watch.

'THE AGGRESSIVE POSITIVITY?' like... hes positive? but in an aggressive way?

'im not sure if you understand what im saying' like in general... i do... 'Try it. If it makes sense' ok that one i dont understand even a little bit💀 'Youre good at math but idk if im good at explaining' im good at math but im bad at music💀 it seemed easier before you started saying 'try it' TT 'your head will be chopped off' OH this one i understand. 'there was something weird about that second song' HAHDJFJ i know nothing abt music so if it sounds good, its fine for me. MAybe apocalypsis IS the strange thing but am i wrong?

'Im willing to see what you want to share' oooh arent you cute? go finish your assignments and well see. i can read your kylo fis but remember. hes my rival. also i read you 'first snow' fic! omg TT aemma TT my sun my moon my stars TT shes glowing in my memories so yeah. her realtionships with vissy 100/10 with daemon 100/10 with reader 10/10 (bc there basically no interactions so no 100). AWKWARD DAEMON hgighg i live for awkward daemon! the cutie. imagine being a prince, all powerful, riding a dragon and then running around disheveled, half-naked with hardly opened eyes and pure sleep on your face? i imagine this. and it makes me giggle and have a little grin. also the targ-family dynamics (sorry if you dont want to hear abt it) reminds me of wfal. my cute babes TT

i dont understand wether i have too many symbols or not with this new paragraph thing TT so ok. thats all. how r you? how much water have you drunk today? eat well, sleep well. have a nice day/night. luv u. take care<з

HELLO MY LOVE GOOD MORNING or at least it is for me

me and you

meowmeow, sunshine! short-pawed kitties TT ig your kitties miss u too.

my kitties could care less T_T cos that means they care maybe just a little

'no idea if you sent this today' tumblr r u seriously? TT its the easiest function ig?.. also rip to your... all?

to be honest T_T its a me thing i am brain fried /: HAHHAH

Also i wanted to talk about the playlist because i listened to it properly now! i was eating donuts but now im hungry again. T_T im going to get water T_T i

Забери меня, если ты придёшь.10 Забери меня, если ты найдешь. Забери меня, что стоит тебе? Ты же знаешь как?

Like I think she says Забери меня then it goes up half notes to the tonic then she sings the next part

Суицид моей веры this sounds like the songs I used to listen to way deep in my emo phase

Чудовище GOSH I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH FOR REAL ITS ON MY SPOTIFY NOW I think this was the song I said went so hard because damn it really went SO HARD I listened to it twice I just checked my reply and it is I still stand on my words she can stab me if she wants.

I heard the давай and I was like I KNOW THAT but also I don’t I had to google what I means apparently it means give and ??? is that wrong ??? I also I think there was a bad word somewhere there and I was right!!! But I cant determine which word it is. But I heard it be said lol HAHAAH its a curse word my older brother likes to say lol T_T its so yuck of him im going to spell it the way i think it would be... blyat? HAHHAH LOL HAHAHH

Lol I like this Демоны. Its very pop punk. I listened to it on spotify and since its not slowed he sounds like an actual person HAHAHAHAH cos I was going to say the pronunciation of Russian sounds so …like dragging and slurry like something was being chewed slowly, and I suppose there is still some of that, but its also mostly cos the song was slowed HAHAHAHA

Are you sure Улицы ждали is the one with the annoying tempo and not Жанна д’Арк. Cause joan of arc did some weird ritardando which means it suddenly slowed down. Nvm I listened to that song on spotify and it was during the Что ночь кончается и день ее сменяет going to Я Жанна д'Арк в твоём костре. It was just really jarring the first time because of the slowed version. But also since it was my first time hearing that part. It was fine it wasn’t weird lol AHHAH

I found the translations for Намордник also is H an N in russian omg my head T_T. i also listened to this on spotify, i like it so much better without being slowed!!! she has such a sweet and bright voice i love it.

also is России russia?

Aлёна Швец - НЕЛЮБОВЬ i like this song. i can see why i wanted it do get heavier but upon listening to again. its fine the way it is. she also sounds so much better not slowed T_T HASLFHASFHAS i like her lyrics. i love her.

ЭЛЕКТРОФОРЕЗ – Зло is still such a vibe. it still reminds me of something like a christmas song LIKE I HEAR IT BUT I CANT PUT MY FINGER ON IT IS IT JOY TO THE WORLD no its not I CANT FIND IT I HATE IT HERE OMG IS IT MY WAIT WHAT THE FUCK ITS MY COLLEGE HYMN T_T IM CRYING LISTEN TO IT ITS LOWER BUT IT KINDA SOUNDS LIKE IT im going insane the first part the intro part sounds kinda like it im going home (i say as i type this on my home pc T_T)

Дора & Мэйби Бэйби - Не Исправлюсь THIS SONG IS SO MUCH MORE DISAPPOINTING IF TO ME AFTER LISTENING TO THE ORIGINAL they put a damn gritty electric guitar then made it edm i think minus 10000 points your honor. L (im sorry i just cant)

anyway i couldnt listen to this song fully cos im so disappointed in it alSFhahsfhasf

how do you say this Я is it ya? does it kind of have a soft d-ish sound.

ok thats that i hope that made sense.

'why would you congratulate me for that' bc i didnt know what this holiday is about?.. isnt revolution for the dictator government good?.. 'dictators son is our president' HAHDPFH why.... how... where... only wrong answers.... i mean im not the one to judge... but the man is odd

the real answer is because T_T were fucking stupid. i hate the fact we let that idiot win. i literally started searching for countries to move when he won. he 99999999999% cheated because i saw the spreadsheet of the fucking votes and they were all going up exponentially at a steady rate. i hate it here.

'PLEASE DONT DIE' since you asked so nicely hahfhah

if you die i will never recover because i would never know... youd just... stop talking to me and i would think its something i did T_T pls dont die.

'ITS SO MUCH BETTER NOW' i hate how long it is TT i dont like the visuals TT but ok whatever is better for you babygirl

the things you do for love <3

'according to the judgy cat' HFNKJNF me. yes. i am.

you know what, you should try pilates (maybe you;ll be less judgy HAHAHH) ! i did some today then did weighted exercise and pilates is so much fun and also so ??? wild because it challenges your core!!! it makes me revaluate my core strength, balance and flexibility. today i learned T_T im turning into stale bread im so hard T_T I USED TO BE SO ELASTIC no more T_T also its good for my back because i get back pain from sitting down so much T_T lol

'THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING A STRONG WOMAN' there is! but if they make it your only trait💀

but i have a personality T_T

'i still do fucking care about what people think' ig we all care what people say? its sad but human is a social being and we kinda cant live without listening to the society... the difference is probably how much we care and how much it affects our lives. i mean it does suck. yk youre worthy and significant just the way you are without playing up to stereotypes and trying to deserve the others' approval in a way you personally dont like. strength isnt your whole personality.

society sucks. but i love you.

'complimented me on my strength' well ig its pretty logical to compliment smns strength when they do smth involving it and they wanted to be polite but duh. these accidental things with no harmful intention usually hurt the most.

youre so right. i read into that too much T_T see. you give me reason let me give you reason too

'i dont want people to whisper about me having big arms' 1) ig no one whispers things when its not involved

HAHAHAAHHAHAH YOU DONT LIVE IN THE PHILIPPINES WE HAVE CHISMOSA CULTURE chismosa is like a person who likes to gossip in its fem from, chismoso would be for the guy. it also comes from spanish chismes which also means gossip or whatever googles making me go down a rabbit hole and i refuse. anyway. i pointed that out because a lot (but not all) of filipinos love to talk about people as a bonding experience AHHAAH. i saw this tiktok that said that there are no serial killers here cause of this 💀💀💀 but she also said there isn't a complete/actual research about it but people say that that's why lol HAHAAH

2) your arms are beautiful! its ok to have whatever arms. including big arms. you work out so its consequential? and people really do not like 'big' arms only on men. yk a lot of girls who have romantic feelings for girls also love these hands on girls (DOES IT MAKE SENSE TT).

it does make sense i love you for trying to comfort me. i love you so much. i know my arms are beautiful... but sometimes i dont feel like it cos of this DEMON IN MY HEAD GO AWAY EWW

ok this may not be the best example but there are people who just lile it? just admire some good arms. and im sure there are men whod think damn girl i want to hold this hand till my death. sorry but do i sound idk not soothing now? im sorry im trying TT i mean its not like strong arm r only for men. its fine if you have these. there are people who like it and dislike it (like with the height) and there will always be ideal view you wont be able to match in some ways. your arms are just good arms. they do lots of talented things and they are healthy, they keep you healthy and pretty. you are good the way you are.

my kitty kitty so sweet T_T i understand what you mean. my arms are capable of so much beauty. youre so right i love you

'boys make fun of me too for the same reason' theyre just not grown enough and/or childish, absolutely not mentally mature. they think their worth is having toned arms while arms are just arms. 'he tired so hard to be muscley where i was naturally gifter' yeah thats what its about! theyre jealous. they think its the only wat they can be handsome so when you have it theyre jealous and afraid their arms and strength would be devalued.

men = 👎

'Were literally so alike' youre not 178 cm💀 ahajsh sorry. whats the betrayal?.. i didnt trade you for some prick.

;kajsfsfas I DIDNT MEAN THE HEIGHT I MEANT THE PERSONALITY HOW DARE YOU #1 basically call me short #2 reduce our similiarities to height #3 reduce yourself to height. also YOU REALLY NOT LETTING ME LIVE COS OF KYLO. you'd i think be glad to know i have redone the ai chat so many times i got connected to a moderator that was im pretty sure a 13 year old boy and it really killed the whole experience for me T_T i cant make him my husband anymore it feels so weird now

'Don’t tell me how to write' ok.... i wanted the best TT

/: *bonks*

'i can gear the disbelief' oh you can? SURPRISINGLY.

/: *BONK*

'TO GLUCK THE PACIFIC OCEAN' HOHGOJJ i mean you can try. ill watch.

😡 *BONK*

'THE AGGRESSIVE POSITIVITY?' like... hes positive? but in an aggressive way?

T_T HELP OK IF YOU SAY SO

'im not sure if you understand what im saying' like in general... i do... 'Try it. If it makes sense' ok that one i dont understand even a little bit💀

ASHF:HSFSAF FA yeah its really hard to explain something auditory with text T_T thats why my first year of music school SUCKED COSI WAS LIKE WHAT HUH but then when its explained my my teacher its like OOOOOOOOOOOH ok

'Youre good at math but idk if im good at explaining' im good at math but im bad at music💀 it seemed easier before you started saying 'try it' TT

its ok. i T_T i suck at explaining it T_T GAAAAAAAAH

'your head will be chopped off' OH this one i understand. 'there was something weird about that second song' HAHDJFJ i know nothing abt music so if it sounds good, its fine for me. MAybe apocalypsis IS the strange thing but am i wrong?

HAHAHAH the apocalypse is strange and scary so youre not wrong HAHAH

'Im willing to see what you want to share' oooh arent you cute? go finish your assignments and well see.

my assignments never end so just send them whenever ok. i'll reply properly again like what i did now when i do a relisten

i can read your kylo fis but remember. hes my rival.

T_T ok HAHAAH read the 2nd one i make or the first one whatever its up to you. you have no competition with kylo. i dont think i'll use that ai chat anymore T_T i'll stick to fanfics cos then i wouldnt have to face a 13 year old boy that wants to do a roast battle with me asfh;aslhfas;f

also i read you 'first snow' fic! omg TT aemma TT my sun my moon my stars TT shes glowing in my memories so yeah. her realtionships with vissy 100/10 with daemon 100/10 with reader 10/10 (bc there basically no interactions so no 100).

IM GLAD YOU LOVE AEMMA! I LOVE AEMMA T_T AEMMA MY LOVE <3 and AHHAHAHA yes 0 interactions between aemma and yn. AHAHHHAH its fine shhhh. i didnt even show why daemon disliked her cos i was too lazy to show how prim and proper she is lol HAHAHH

AWKWARD DAEMON hgighg i live for awkward daemon! the cutie. imagine being a prince, all powerful, riding a dragon and then running around disheveled, half-naked with hardly opened eyes and pure sleep on your face? i imagine this. and it makes me giggle and have a little grin. also the targ-family dynamics (sorry if you dont want to hear abt it) reminds me of wfal. my cute babes TT

We love waffle <3 HAHAHAH i have no idea when i can update again but everytime i talk to you about daemon im like TODAY? and i love the targ dynamics. i love them so so so much. i briefly rewatched ep1 which was why i wrote that. im thinking of writing a daemon fic where he was named heir way before rhaenyra was born because viserys got into an accident or smth. sooooooo HAHAHA idk i might write it but also i might not lol

i dont understand wether i have too many symbols or not with this new paragraph thing TT so ok. thats all. how r you? how much water have you drunk today? eat well, sleep well. have a nice day/night. luv u. take care<з

i ATE DONUTS TODAY.

and im hungry again holup let me get smth to eat

EW NVM I THOUGHT OF EATING AND I MADE ME FEEL SICK

i DRANK A LOT TODAY! but also i sweat a lot cos i exercised so......................... ANYWAY. i wanted to tell you this story about my grandma. cos she was like, preparing/washing fish outside, like we have a faucet outside out house and she was putting the fish guts in a plastic and we also have rats AND THIS BIGASS RAT WAS SNEAKILY TRYNA GET THE PLASTIC OF FISH GUTS and my grandma barely noticed. LIKE THE AUDACITY OF THE RAT T_T also they live in my bedroom ceiling and they party and go jogging at night ///: my worse fear is suddenly they destroy my ceiling and fall onto me AND I SLEEP IN A DOUBLE DECK AT THE TOP (my sister is below) and IT FREAKS ME OUT but ive gotten a bit used to it

anyway T_T rats are freaky. i hope so badly we can finally rebuild the house. did i tell you about my house yet. remember how i said i moved. i moved to my grandma's house, which is old like SO OLD the last time it was renovated was in the 80s and my mom was wee T_T (she said there were rats even then T_T HELP) anyway. this house actually belongs to, wait for it, my grandma's GRANDPA! T_T the deed is still in spanish and like as big as a newspaper T_T so ///: we had to change it at city hall T_T and its taking forever. also, just in case its not clear, the owner of my house is my great-great-grandpa T_T anyway that's all i love you please take care and love yourself for me because i love you and i want to hug and kiss you

OH OH OH OK LAST THING

i thought about it and wouldnt it be funny if we meet and it turns out you actually also dont know what your height is like all of my classmates that claim to be 5'10 but ARENT AHHAHAHAHAHAHA

ok that's all i love you

xxx

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Fourteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: my quickest AND longest update to date?? who am i??

merry christmas for real this time. thank you sm for reading i never voice my appreciation for yall but it’s there i swear

tw: abuse mention

***

Cassian’s plan to grab his stuff and get the hell back home is intercepted by Feyre, who pulls him aside and proceeds to spill everything about her fight with Nesta to him.

His heart hurts for Feyre—he of all people knows what it’s like to feel unwanted by your biological family. But what did she really think would happen? Their entire friend group is about placing chosen bonds over blood bonds. Feyre can’t be that offended if Nesta prefers the company of her friends over her little sisters. And trying to talk to Nesta about her therapy? Jesus.

But Cassian has a feeling it’ll take both Feyre and Elain a long spelling out of things before they can begin to understand Nesta the way he does, and he doesn’t have time for that right now. He’s too distracted to even provide the comfort Feyre came to him for.

Somehow, he makes up an excuse and detaches himself from the conversation, leaving to find his coat and keys. Azriel spies him on the way to the door and gives him a look.

“Not a fucking word,” Cassian growls as he passes. Everyone else is engrossed in a game of poker and getting progressively more drunk. Feyre now sits on Rhys’s lap, once again content. Azriel only smirks but shakes his head, letting Cassian slip out of the penthouse unnoticed.

He takes the long way home, needing the night air and flashing headlights to clear his head. Once he gets off the freeway leading to town, though, he picks up his phone and calls Nesta.

She doesn’t pick up.

On the fourth call that goes unanswered, Cassian gives up. Fine. She doesn’t want to talk to him tonight. But still he finds himself driving past her neighborhood, once, twice, as if he’s listless without being able to talk to her. He has too many feelings he needs to get off his chest, and she’s the first person he always goes to for those things.

Try to consider her feelings.

It’s that thought that forces him to turn around and drive back to the cabin. They’ll both feel better in the morning, anyway. He can find her and talk as soon as the day starts.

It’s past midnight when he finally pulls up to the driveway, and still he’s disappointed to not see Nesta’s car there. Still he’s disappointed to enter an empty cabin.

The Christmas tree they decorated together sits unlit in the corner of the living room, their presents untouched under the fir leaves. Without turning the lights on, Cassian trudges upstairs and heads straight to bed.

Any sleep he finds is short and restless. His eyes shut sometime around three in the morning, and when they next open, early dawn light is streaming in through the windows. Snow flurries gently against the glass.

Giving up on the prospect of genuine rest, Cassian accepts that he’ll have to seek out Nesta with dark circles and a half-functioning brain today.

He already has a list in his mind as he heads downstairs: get coffee and breakfast for Nesta, get dressed, be at her door by the time she wakes at nine.

Then he reaches the foot of the stairs, and realizes none of that is necessary.

Straight out of his dreams, Nesta is sitting cross-legged on the ground before the coffee table, inspecting a puzzle piece in the cutest sweater he’s ever seen.

Cassian freezes with his hand on the banister, wondering if he’s still asleep. He watches her bite her lip intently, trying to fit the puzzle piece into a corner of the puzzle. It doesn’t fit.

“Fuck,” she swears softly, tossing the piece aside. Cassian clears his throat.

Nesta’s head shoots up, her focus broken. “You’re awake.”

“You’re in my house,” he says dumbly.

“That’s what the key you gave me is for, isn’t it?”

Hesitantly, like he’s approaching a wounded bear, Cassian walks farther into the living room. “Are you—I mean, are we…?”

“Use your words, baby.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. She doesn’t seem upset. There’s so much he wants to ask her: did she sleep well? Where did she get her Christmas sweater from, and does it mean she’s secretly been a fan of Christmas all along? Does she want hot chocolate or coffee with her breakfast?

“How was your night?” he settles on. He moves to sit across from her at the coffee table.

“Find where this goes,” Nesta demands, handing him a new puzzle piece and pointing to their nearly finished puzzle.

Cassian obeys, and Nesta talks while he works. “I was pretty pissed when I got home last night,” she says. “I wanted to tell you all about this stupid fight I had with my boyfriend, and how I knew he was right but I was still furious at him, until I remembered that you were my boyfriend, and I didn’t want to see you.”

Cassian pretends to focus on the puzzle, letting Nesta get her words out.

“So Gwyn called to say thank you for her present—you were right, by the way, she loves it—and then we ended up talking the whole night, and I told her everything about my sisters and,” she waves a hand, “the other shit.

“And at one point I realized that I was telling her the stuff I needed to be telling you. So I came here as soon as I hung up with Gwyn.”

Cassian looks up. “When was that?”

Nesta shrugs. “Five in the morning?”

“Nesta,” he scolds. “You’ll fuck up your sleep cycle.”

“Will you let me get to my point, damn it?”

Cassian shuts up and sits back.

Nesta is staring down at the puzzle, fiddling with her fingernails. Carefully selecting her next words like an attorney would. “I wanted to apologize for—the things I said last night. I was projecting my insecurities onto you, and I’m sure you already know it, but that doesn’t make it okay.” She looks up, face serious. “My sisters and I bring out the worst in each other. We always have. But I let that affect how I treated you when you had nothing to do with it.”

“But you were right.” Cassian can’t stay quiet anymore. “I mean, a lot of what you said was wrong, but at the heart of your point you were right.” It took Cassian all night to sift through what Nesta had said, to separate the truth from the meaningless words of hurt. He finally sees it now.

“I should have watched out for you last night, even if I couldn’t claim you as my girlfriend. I know how you are in new environments with new people and I left you to the wolves.” The wolves are his most trusted friends, sure, but they aren’t Nesta’s. And he was an idiot to forget it.

Nesta fixes another puzzle piece into place, and for the first time this morning, true regret passes over her face. “I didn’t enjoy hurting you. I hated every second of it while I was doing it. So as long as you know I didn’t mean any of it, I’ll be fine.”

We were good distractions for each other in your lonely little cabin, but deep down you know we wouldn’t last a day in the real world.

You were sad and desperate for acknowledgement when we first met, and you’re the same way now.

Cassian nods once. “I know,” he says softly. “You could never lie to me.” Even if some of her words had struck a little truer than they should have. Cassian realizes bitterly it’s because her insecurities are the same as his.

“So are you going to tell me about what the real problem was yesterday?” He dares to broach the elephant in the room.

Nesta stiffens, refocusing on the puzzle to avoid his gaze. “I already told you,” she says. “My sisters and I bring out the worst in each other.”

“There’s more to it than that, though.” When Nesta doesn’t respond, he adds, “Feyre told me her side of the story. It probably wasn’t all of it, but if it makes you feel better, I agreed with you.”

Nesta snorts derisively. “She was being unreasonable, but I made it worse. You know that, don’t you?” She raises a brow. “You know how I am.”

Cassian remembers their screaming match from the time he tried to get her a doctor’s appointment, and oddly enough, smiles. “I know you hate it,” he says, “and I know it’s frustrating as hell, but people stop taking your arguments seriously when you start flinging insults. It probably isn’t fair, but you’ve been in a courtroom. You know how it works.”

Nesta grimaces. “Believe me, the future lawyer in me is not proud of how I held up in last night’s fight.”

“Right there.” Cassian slides a section of green pieces over to himself and fits them into place, completing the rolling hills of the landscape scene. There’s only a handful of pieces left, all in the sky area. He waits for Nesta to be ready to speak.

After several moments of working in silence, she says, “My sisters have never really accepted me the way I am. I used to think Elain did back when we were kids, but then I stopped prioritizing her and she stopped understanding.”

Cassian knows Elain is pissed that her once-closest sister no longer cares to talk to her. But what he wants to know is why Nesta stopped answering her calls. Why she pulled away and went into isolation, and wouldn’t come out for anyone until a few short months ago.

Nesta clears her throat. “I was not a well-adjusted kid. I’m not a well-adjusted adult, either, but—I was even worse in my youth. I had a deadbeat dad, who I hated while my sisters adored him. I hated the life we had to live because of him, and I let that hate seep everywhere. Into everything and everyone else.” She blows out a breath and shakes her head. “There was no place closer to hell than that fucking one-bedroom apartment. I hated the person I was in that place—like I had no control over my emotions, my tantrums, my entire self. I was stuck in this childlike state of rage and I couldn’t move on, couldn’t grow up.

“No one could figure out what was wrong with me, so I had to take care of my issues myself. I read more books, I went out more often, I always had headphones in—I learned how to escape. I learned how to limit the destruction. Once I did that, I could care for Elain more openly. I could have civil conversations with Feyre, too. That’s where we went wrong, I think. I gave Feyre hope that I could be a better person, and once she latched onto it, she refused to let go.” Nesta picks at the sleeves of her knit sweater. “She never understood that I was cold and removed just because I was. She always had this belief that deep down, I secretly had a heart of gold and a shit ton of love to give. I never bothered telling her she was wrong, so her expectations of me grew. And so did Elain’s. And then I graduated high school.” She shrugs.

Cassian frowns. “That’s when you left your family and moved here?”

She nods. “The distance helped. For a short time, I thought I was free. No responsibilities or people to answer to. But then I met Tomas—my ex—and Feyre and Elain followed me to Colorado not long after my dad died. And even then I stayed optimistic, because most people would be lucky to have their sisters and boyfriend all in the same place. I thought I could finally have all the relationships a normal person my age was supposed to have if I just put in the effort.” She meets Cassian’s eyes. “I never told you much about Tomas, did I?”

His stomach sinks, but he shakes his head.

“It was not a fun first love. But the only reason I didn’t tell you about it earlier was because I didn’t know how to describe it myself.” She rubs her palms down her thighs, but it isn’t enough to hide their tremble.

“I know what to call it now,” Nesta says. “It was abusive.”

Cassian says nothing. He can’t. But his hands curl into hard fists under the coffee table.

“Lana made me work up to using that word.” She rolls her eyes, like the whole thing annoys and embarrasses her. “He was abusive: physically, verbally, emotionally. I’m not going to go into the details or anything, but it’s what was happening to me during those college years that my sisters needed me to be there for them.”

Cassian would never in a thousand years ask Nesta for information she isn’t ready to give, but in that moment he’s overwhelmed with the need to know everything—every little thing that’s ever been done to her, so he can draw up a list and exact calculated revenge for all of it. His voice is rough against the lump in his throat, out of fury or despair he doesn’t know. “Nesta…”

“I promise I’m almost done.” She holds up a hand.

Take your time. Tell me everything.

“This isn’t about him,” Nesta says. “This is about my sisters. Because even if I hadn’t been stupid enough to let that man waste almost four years of my life, I would have ended up in the same place with Feyre and Elain. They’d still be disappointed when they realized I couldn’t be what they wanted me to be.” She wraps her arms around herself in a hug, and Cassian wishes he’d sat beside her so those could be his arms.

She shakes her head. “I did my best so I wouldn’t be cooped up with them, wouldn’t be lashing out at them… and it still wasn’t enough. They wanted me to be nice, friendly, talkative. So I tried doing that too, even though I hated it. But around the same time things with Tomas started to get unbearable, Feyre found Rhysand and you guys. So now I had to hang out with my sister while she had a group of strangers constantly surrounding her, and go back home to a man who hated me at the end of the day.” She looks up at Cassian then, and her blue-gray gaze hits him with the force of a truck. “As soon as Feyre moved away to Velaris, I saw my way out. I finally broke up with Tomas. I gave up on all my relationships and I let go, and I don’t care if you or anyone else thinks it’s pathetic, or the bare minimum. It’s all I had to give.”

Cassian swallows roughly, unable to find his words. “It’s not pathetic, Nesta,” he finally says. “There’s nothing pathetic about doing what doesn’t come easily to you.”

There’s a million other things he needs to say to her, to make sure that she knows she isn’t stupid, or embarrassing, or not enough. But it all floats right out of his head when she heaves a big, dramatic sigh, as if a great weight has been lifted off her chest. As if Cassian’s measly words were all she needed to hear to feel alright.

She snatches up the final remaining puzzle piece and clicks it into place. “And we’re done,” she declares.

Cassian looks down at the table between them, which is now fully lit by the beaming morning sun outside. His eyes land on an empty space near the corner of the landscape, and his face falls. “There’s a piece missing,” he says.

“No way, where?” Nesta leans closer.

Cassian is already on his hands and knees, checking under and around the table for the missing piece.

“This is all your fault,” Nesta is saying above him. “You bumped into the table that time we were making out and all those pieces went flying.”

“Well, how fucking far could it have gone? Help me find it.” He’s serious now, searching the floor with intent. They can’t leave the puzzle unfinished. It was the only thing he could find in his garage all those months ago that could distract Nesta from anticipating her MRI results. And after the diagnosis, it had been a way to lift her mood, to give the two of them an excuse to spend every evening together—

“Sweetheart, it’s just a puzzle.”

Cassian sits up straight at that. “Just a puzzle?” He narrows his eyes at her.

“Well, it’s either that or an overextended metaphor for our relationship—are you crying?”

“No.” He blinks quickly. If there’s wetness there, he doesn’t know how Nesta glimpsed it.

He’s had a hard twelve hours. Nesta even more so. “I just feel really bad, about last night and everything else.” Because even if she acts like what she just spilled to him isn’t a big deal, he’ll never forget it.

He looks up to find Nesta laughing. Hand-over-her-mouth cackling. Before he can ask what’s wrong with her, she’s climbing up onto the coffee table, breaking up the puzzle and sending pieces scattering as she crawls across it. “Nesta—” he starts to protest.

She drops into his lap, winding her arms and legs around his powerful body. And she leans in and kisses him, long and deep and sweet. His hands settle into the curve of her hips, where they’ve always fit perfectly.

She breaks the kiss to fit her palm to his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she says. She never says that. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.” Her lips quirk up teasingly, but real guilt from the night before lingers in her eyes. Cassian realizes in that moment that Nesta could never hurt anybody more than she hurts herself.

“Don’t waste your apologies on me.” He nudges her nose with his. “Save them for people who’ll actually need to hear them.”

A real smile starts to bloom on her face. “I’ll try.”

Pride and love take his breath away, but he manages to say, “Thank you. For sharing so much of yourself with me.”

She makes an embarrassed noise and waves him off, but emotion shines in her eyes. Just to spare her, Cassian changes the subject. “Now what in the world are you wearing?”

She glances down at herself, frowning. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it.” The sweater looks hand knit, bright red with a green Christmas tree in the center. Balls of colorful fuzz decorate the tree as ornaments. “I want you to wear it every day,” he says.

“Over my dead body. I’d rather you help me take it off.”

Nesta’s hips feel especially snug against his as heat rushes to his crotch. She smirks like she caught him on a hook and leans in to whisper, “You look tired. Did you stay up thinking about my dress last night?”

Cassian swallows roughly. It might have crossed his mind a few times—not just the dress, but the fact that she had picked it out for him. He didn’t know that Nesta cared about things like that.

She rubs a thumb under his weary and reddened eyes. “After your anger faded, did you think about all the make-up sex we were going to have? Because I did.”

“Nesta,” he groans, dropping his head to rest against her chest. Either she plays him too well or he’s too easy to play, because Cassian is half a second away from damning everything to hell and dragging her to the living room carpet.

Until Nesta’s stomach growls loudly.

That’s when he remembers: it’s Christmas morning, he’s with the love of his life, and they’re both starving and sleep-deprived.

He looks up to find her eyes screwed shut in frustration. Before she can protest, he warns, “Don’t even think about it.” He pats her thighs. “Let’s get some food in you.”

***

Cassian makes them chocolate chip pancakes, and Nesta, feeling clingier than usual today, hangs piggyback off his body the entire time he cooks. She hasn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours, yet she feels like she was born anew this morning.

In the middle of breakfast, Cassian’s phone vibrates. He hardly even glances at it before turning it over.

“Who was it?” Nesta asks through a mouthful of pancakes. She hasn’t asked him about how his own night went, but she expects that his friends will want to call and talk to him at some point today.

“Feyre,” he says without looking at her. “She asked where I went last night.”

“Why’re you ignoring her?” She raises a brow.

Cassian looks a little surprised. “I thought we were mad at her.”

“No.” Nesta sets her fork down. “I’m mad at her. What’s your excuse?”

He shrugs. “Solidarity. I’m mad that you had your Christmas Eve ruined. I know what it took you just to show up there.”

“You’re the only one that knows.” Nesta supposes that not everything has been cleared up with Cassian after all. “Listen,” she tries to soften her blunt tone. “Whatever is between me and my sisters… you don’t need to concern yourself with it. You’ll never have to choose sides between us.”

He watches her closely, carefully. “Even if I want to defend my girlfriend?”

Her stomach flutters at that inconsequential word, but she doesn’t show it. “Even then. Feyre looks at you like an older brother. I’m sure Elain does too, a little bit. Don’t let me get in the way of that.” He probably feels guilty every time he texts Feyre, the loyal bastard.

Cassian looks at his plate, then nods resolutely. “I can do that.” He adds a moment later, “For what it’s worth, I do get where the girls are coming from. Even if they had a shit way of going about it.” His eyes darken as he remembers.

Nesta doesn’t know what he was told about the fight, but she chuckles at his moody face anyway. “I expected you to. You’ve always loved spending time with your family, and you’ve never known anything different. But the reality is this: the closeness you have between you and your brothers isn’t something that can be forced onto every group of siblings. And the more Feyre and Elain try to force it, the more I push against it.”

“It sounds stifling.” His face is open, understanding. “To feel like you’re always too much but never enough.”

Nesta pauses, stunned. Cassian is almost too empathetic sometimes, like he carries a thousand past lives within him. Maybe he spent his time learning Nesta by heart in those lives.

Or maybe she’s getting too damn sentimental. She chokes out a dismissive laugh, going back to her pancakes. “Just text Feyre back. Then we can have the rest of the day to ourselves.”

***

Late morning brings heavy snowfall and a chill that infiltrates the walls of the cabin. The Christmas tree in the living room is lit—something Cassian didn’t notice earlier when he came downstairs to find Nesta in his house. Realizing that she’s the one who lit it up first thing in the morning does something to his chest, but he pushes the feeling down where it can’t scare Nesta away.

The weight of the past day must finally catch up to her, though, because by the time Cassian finishes lighting the fireplace, she’s knocked out asleep on the couch.

“No makeup sex then, Nes?” he says softly. Getting up from the hearth, he goes to pull the fur couch throw over her body. Cassian settles at the end of the couch near her feet, taking care so she doesn’t wake, and picks up his laptop from the coffee table. He’s been slacking with his work ever since he got with Nesta, and he might as well catch up on it now before Rhysand takes notice.

The first email that pops up in his inbox is a corporate reminder about the annual New Year’s Eve fundraiser gala, hosted in some high-class hotel in Denver this year. Cassian reads the email once, twice, three times before reaching for his phone.

Rhys answers on the first ring. “Oh, so you don’t hate us,” he drawls.

“What?” Cassian is confused.

“Because with the way you’ve been acting at family events lately, one would have reason to think you don’t want to be around your family much.”

“Oh—no, this isn’t about that.” Cassian refuses to let Rhys linger on this topic. “I called about the New Year’s party.”

“What about it?” he says. “Other than that tacky hotel.”

Cassian decides to spit it out. “I’m not coming.”

Rhys is stunned silent over the line for a moment. “What do you mean, you’re not coming?” Cassian never misses company events, no matter how much he hates dressing up and driving out to the city to schmooze with donors.

But too many of his holidays have gone to Rhys instead of Nesta this year, and he finds himself unwilling to give more.

“I’ve been stressed as hell lately,” he lies, trying to stay quiet for Nesta. “I’m always the one driving hours to see everyone else, and I can’t go all the way out to Denver for another party. I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit,” Rhys responds. “You have nothing going on at work and nothing going on outside of it. What could you be stressed about?”

Cassian makes a mental note to find a hobby that doesn’t include his brothers, if only so he can use it as an excuse to spend time with his secret girlfriend in the future. For now, he has to settle with the truth. “I can’t tell you.”

It’s a petty card to play, but it’s a valid one. No matter how nosy his family might be, they know how to back off when a line is drawn, no explanation required.

Rhys’s voice softens. “Is it serious? Is it a health issue?”

Cassian nearly laughs, even though he feels bad for making Rhys worry. “No, nothing like that. But I still can’t come.”

“What can I do to make it easier for you?” Rhys tries again. “New Year’s isn’t the same without all of my family in one place.”

Cassian snorts. “Come over to my place then.” He says it half-jokingly, but then Rhys doesn’t answer, as if he’s thinking.

“The gala guest list is too big to fit in the cabin…” he ponders. “But I guess I could have it narrowed down at the last minute. The Mayfairs certainly won’t be happy about it, though.”

Cassian’s eyes widen, and he looks over at Nesta’s sleeping form. “Uh…” He scrambles for something to get him out of this.

“New Year’s at a luxury cabin, all of us reuniting at your home for the first time in months? I love it,” Rhys declares. “Better than fucking Denver, that’s for sure.”

Cassian coughs, then covers it up with a forced chuckle. “I’ll have the place ready by next week.”

The call is over before he knows it, and all he can do is stare at the phone in his hand wondering what the hell just happened.

You didn’t entirely lose, he thinks to himself. You’re spending New Year’s with Nesta.

Yeah—New Year’s with Nesta and his entire family. He drops his head back against the couch and groans quietly.

***

Nesta wakes up late in the afternoon to Cassian presenting her with a mug of eggnog and bad news about New Year’s Eve.

The idea of another party, especially one with her sisters present, so soon after the last one makes Nesta’s very bones ache. But she supposes she’ll just have to take the next week to recover and prepare, because she isn’t missing out on a holiday with Cassian for anything.

The way she’s started romanticizing simple things like the new year should probably alarm her, but it doesn’t.

They sit down to open presents with the TV playing lowly in the background. It’s nothing serious, and Nesta isn’t expecting to get anything much until she unwraps her present.

It’s a vinyl record packaged in an elaborate sleeve with the words Nesta’s Mix etched across it. She slowly pulls the record out of the sleeve, staring at it. “What’s this?”

“It’s called a vinyl.”

She spears him with a look. “I got that. What’s on it?”

Cassian turns sheepish, sprawled out across from her on the carpet. “I stalked your Spotify to figure out what you listen to. Then I made a playlist based off what I thought you’d like and got it turned into vinyl. It’s all new music…” He trails off at the look on her face. “But if you hate it, the B-side has your favorite songs on there. You can listen to it either way.”

“I don’t hate it.” Nesta blinks her burning eyes rapidly, staring down at the gift in her hands. She’s not used to receiving thoughtful gifts—or pricey ones. “Thank you,” she says plainly, trying to let her feelings speak for themselves in those two words. “I love it.” She knows she should be saying more, damn it, but what can she say?

Cassian reaches out to put a hand on her knee, his thumb stroking circles across her leg. She looks up at him and realizes she doesn’t need words. Leaning forward, she lands a kiss on his cheek and can only hope that it’s sufficient. “Where am I going to play it?” she asks.

“I was close to getting you a record player when I remembered I already have one. I’ve never used it in my life.” He looks at her more gently now. “So it’s basically yours.”

Nesta’s chest tightens painfully. Not because he’s giving the record player to her, but because he’s suggesting they own it together.

“My present is going to look so stupid next to yours,” she says quietly.

Cassian grins. “Now I really need to see it.”

Nesta buries her head in her hands in humiliation while he tears open the wrapping paper of his gift, and only looks up when she hears him laugh aloud.

He’s holding a copy of one of Nesta’s favorite romances, and the first of many of her books that he’s ever stolen from her and read. He turns the vintage paperback around in his hands. “I remember this one. I totally had a sex dream about it.” He gazes in reminiscence at the busty blonde on the cover.

Nesta snorts, but scoots closer to him eagerly. “Look inside.”

He flips it open to find dark scribbles along the margins, in every single margin.

“I annotated it,” Nesta says hesitantly. “With my thoughts and analysis on each scene. It’s probably dumb to critically analyze a ninetie’s erotica novel, but I thought you’d find it funny.”

Cassian is flipping through the pages more slowly now, taking his time to read each one. “I don’t think it’s funny,” he says after a moment, his eyes still on the book. “I think it’s more than anything I could have asked for.”

“Well, that’s a bit dramatic for a romance book—”

“Not the book.” He looks up at her with something in his eyes. “It’s all your thoughts.” He looks back at the book in wonder. “Written out for me in detail to keep.”

He starts to smirk, searching for a specific page. “I already know how you feel about the boat scene, but now I need to read about it.”

Nesta makes a noise of protest, grabbing for the book. “Don’t spoil the good parts yet.” She can hardly believe it. He finds her joke present good. “You always spoil the good parts first and get sad about it later.”

He makes a face. “True.” He lowers the book, growing serious. “Nesta.” He clears his throat, and her heart starts pounding. She can hear the words before he says them—

“You’re a really good gift giver.”

Nesta’s breath shudders out of her, in relief or disappointment she doesn’t know. Cassian is still staring at her in amazement, and she can only respond by throwing herself at him, her arms holding him tight.

He doesn’t falter under her weight, but pulls her closer. “Thank you,” he says into her ear.

She pulls back far enough to see him. His beautiful face is outlined with too many emotions for her to read, yet somehow she knows exactly what he’s feeling.

Overwhelmed, she leans in to place a soft kiss above his upper lip, then on his mouth. “Merry Christmas,” she whispers against his lips.

“Merry Christmas, Nesta.”

***

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[angelkurenai]

Imagine being in a relationship with Dean, but when you finally start to make things more serious, you start to distance yourself and keep quiet from him. Being worried he might have ruined the best thing to ever happen to him and despite his insecurities, Dean decides to have a talk with you to figure out what’s wrong.

“What?” Dean's voice was gruff, still far too early for him to speak or stand in the first place especially since he hasn't had his coffee yet, but he did repeat with a frown at his brother “What?”

“Huh?” Sam blinked, looking away from your still – maybe far too still to be normal – form, hunched over your steaming cup of coffee, to look at his brother who had one raised eyebrow at him already “Oh uh, I- What did you say again?”

“I asked you. What's the matter man?” Dean blinked slowly compared to his brother who blinked too fast.

“No, nothing's the- You know actually-” Sam cleared his throat, turning more towards his brother and lowering his voice “I've just- I was looking at (Y/n) and I've noticed that lately some things are different, like- like this morning, and I've been meaning to ask you but I didn't know if I should so I just-”

“Sam” Dean said in a rough voice “Too early. Too many words. Cut to it.”

“Is she alright?” he asked with actual worry both on his face and in his voice “Cause I- I was paying attention to some things and she really doesn't seem like herself. I would've asked her but, while I'm her best friend, I didn't know if it was entirely my place to. So I thought I should ask you, seeing how attached to the hip you two are. Is (Y/n) alright?”

“I-” Dean started but frowned even more, his eyes immediately jumping to take in your form at the moment as he tilted his head to the side in confusion and deep thought “I don't-”

“You don't? Don't what, Dean? Don't know? She's your girlfriend, for crying out loud!” Sam whispered-hissed at his brother.

“I just- She seemed fine to me all this time! I never noticed a thing out of the ordinary. She's acting the same way she always did around me!” Dean shrugged, voice also hushed “No, really, that's how it's always been. Our relationship is the same too, maybe better than ever! I mean-” a smile, or more like a proud grin, started lifting the corners of his lips as he looked a bit into the distance in thought “If last night was any indicator, we are certainly better than ever!”

“You- what?” Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother with a tilt of his head.

“You know, I was a bit tired after the case, but then she came out of the shower wearing my shirt and you know how one thing can lead to another, and I really couldn't help. It was oof-” Dean blew out a breath “Wow, really, wow. So much of-” Dean had started recounting the events of the previous night with a coy smile on his face, until Sam interrupted him.

“Dean. Dean! Hey, not- not the point here, yes? And I'm certainly not interested in being scared for life by the mental images that would inevitably invade my mind, please and thank you.” the younger Winchester pointed out, effectively cutting him off also with a look that made Dean's smile vanish and the man sober up and get more serious “Our point here is (Y/n) and whether she is alright or not.”

“She-” Dean paused, letting out a short huff before straightening his back “Hey, honey? (Y/n)?”

“Hmh? What?” you asked slowly, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you finally looked at something but your coffee, your boyfriend.

“Are you alright?” he asked caringly still.

“Define alright.” you said back with a serious face and they shared a look “Alright as in alright with an asteroid striking earth and killing everyone this morning or alright as in alright with passing out and sleep the rest of my life off with occasional breaks for midnight snacks?”

It took a couple seconds for any of the Winchesters to speak, only silence having followed save for the sound of the coffee machine, as they both stood there for a couple seconds only blinking”Alright as in... alright? Alright as in functioning properly as a human being and being... mentally stable perhaps?”

“Oh” you blinked, only twice, in understanding before shaking your head “No, then. No.” you went back to staring at your coffee, waiting for it to cool down and letting silence hang in the air but for a shorter amount of time before you added “As for mentally stable though, I think I've got something close to it. My mind is in a stable situation as in a never-changing state.”

“Never-changing state? Wh-what would that be?”

“You know, normal stuff.” you shrugged, eyes still laced with sleep “Like an internet browser.”

“You mean... like a computer? Sharp and with a good memory?”

“No, I mean like a browser. Fifteen tabs are open, seven of them are frozen and I don't know where the music is coming from.” you said with a casual shrug “But there's nothing new about it. 'S pretty much the story of my life, how I've always been. 24/7 and it stays the same, so don't worry.”

“I-” Sam frowned even more deeply, blinking in confusion again before shaking his head and turning his head abruptly to look at his brother and mostly glare at him, before he whispered “You call this alright?”

“Well, just between you and I... yeah!” Dean shrugged “That's how she is man, we both know it.”

“Well, yes, obviously. But today she seems to be even more of... that! Seriously, Dean-” Sam sighed deeply, shaking his head “Work with me for a moment here, ok? Really do. Think well about this. Has something happened that could affect her? Something that maybe... you don't even know about? Something that she wouldn't tell you for one reason or another?”

“Not tell me? Why would she not-”

“I don't know. I mean-” Sam shrugged, face going more serious this time around “Does she have a reason to? Is there something there that would cause it? Is... Is everything ok between the two of you?”

“Of course, why else-” Dean started, defending himself and what you had, before it slowly started downing on him and he stopped abruptly, going serious immediately “I'll- I will go talk to her.”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, maybe you should wait a bit? Think this trough?” there was clear doubt in both Sam's voice and face, not that it deterred the older Winchester in the least bit. He was far too busy being worried abut other things than him messing up.

“Yeah, I've got this. Don't worry, I'll clear it all up.” he reassured his brother though Sam looked anything but reassured.

“Doubt that but alright, whatever you say.” Sam sighed “Just- Make sure to be calm. Be careful about this.”

Though Dean barely paid attention to half of the words, he gave a nod at his brother – which, alright, looked more dismissive than anything else – before making his way towards you.

“Hey, honey.” he said softly, slowly reaching out to take hold of your hand; the only thing you did was hum in acknowledgment, eyes focus on stirring your coffee.

“Alright uhm-” he cleared his throat, glancing at his younger brother who was looking closely at the two of you in concern “Hey, sweetheart, are you- How are you feeling today?” he corrected himself when he realized his previous question had already gotten an answer, albeit weird one.

“Oh just a lil bit tired. 'S all. But what else is new?” you shrugged, finally moving to slowly take a large sip of your coffee and sigh in content.

“I understand, the case was a bit tough for all of us. But things will get better, we'll take a break for some time if need be.” he nodded his head slowly, his fingers playing with yours as he hesitated for another second “I just- You know, you seem a bit off, so I- I couldn't help but feel slightly concerned about you. And I know you said you are ok but I wanted... I neededto ask you again if everything is really alright... between us?” his question managed to make you look up from your cup with a deepening frown and tilt of your head, fact that only put him even more on edge and made him worry even more.

“You felt concerned?” you question, glancing at Sam the same second he did.

“Yeah, I- well, we both did. But I even more so, you understand. So I just wanted to ask you. And honey, if- if I ever did anything, if I wronged you somehow, if- gosh, if I hurt you even, I am so sorry. I didn't- I didn't even realize it, I get so caught up with our hunts sometimes that... maybe I even neglect you. Some kind of boyfriend, I am.” he scoffed at himself, shaking his head “I know I suck sometimes, but you know I love you more than anything. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and to know that I might have somehow ruined this in any way, even in the slightest, hurts as hell. So I want you to tell me, I want us to talk, so I- so I can do my utmost to fix it. Something. Anything. So I can be better for you.”

“Fix it?” the more you only repeated his words in that careful, low tone the more the man panicked on the inside that things were much more wrong than he knew and wondered if there even was any fixing it.

“I- Well, I hope?” he asked slowly, before squeezing your hand “I just want us to be alright and it's clear that we're not. You just seem off and I was hoping you could talk to me about it, that I could change it. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need from me? Anything at all. You just tell me and I promise-”

“Well, since you started this-” you shrugged, straightening your back “I wasn't going to mention this but, yes, maybe you are right. There is something great I need, that I almost can't live without, and that I feel like I've been missing all this time. I really don't know how to tell you but in every relationship we must also think of ourselves, not our partner. There is no use in suffering just to make the other happy, it's not healthy. So I guess, enough is enough after some point, right?” you asked and he gave a weak nod “Dean-” you sighed heavily as he looked at you with almost wide, terrified eyes “I really need some space.”

Sam held his breath as he watched with almost wide eyes on his own the scene unfold before him, expecting anxiously his brother's reaction. He really hoped he didn't overreact, though, that his words were carefully thought, calm and collected instead of-

“You're breaking up with me?!” Dean nearly yelped the exclaim and Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes. There went the first option of a civilized conversation, right out of the window.

You held his gaze for a couple more seconds, face completely blank before you finally snapped or close to it as you punched Dean on the shoulder “You're taking up all the bed you little piece of shit! I just need some space to sleep comfortably without having the fear of ending up on the floor, you idiot! I haven't been able to sleep well for the entire week because of you just sprawl out on the damn bed and take up all of the freaking space!”

When a kick on the foot under the table followed, Sam couldn't help but snort and let the smile rest on his lips. Relief, no doubt ten times bigger, washed over his brother though Sam wasn't sure for how long it would last.

“I'm so-”

“Oh no, you don't get to apologize! You don't get to say shit about this Winchester. I barely slept two hours last night, two freaking hours! All the while you were sprawled and snoring softly and murmuring in your sleep and enjoying your time in freaking dreamland like Sleeping Beauty!” but you apparently could snap harder and much as it made Dean back down with wide eyes, Sam was thoroughly enjoying it “So you want to be a good boyfriend and really try to make our relationship work? How about you start with the freaking basics such as letting me survive! Cause last time I checked lack of sleep is detrimental to one's health.”

“I- I will. I promise, I-”

“You fucking better.” you hissed, glaring at him before you grabbed your cup and got up, pausing only to look at Sam but with less menace because, in all honesty, he wasn't the one that wouldn't let you sleep “See? That's why I didn't like falling in love! Before you know it you sacrifice everything that's important to you for the other one. From sleep to your favorite cake! At least back then I didn't have to share my bed with anyone, it was all mine. And gosh, I will forever mourn that last piece I didn't get to eat. See, back when we weren't together he would have never dared do something like that! Now he has the audacity to do than and think that makeup sex will solve everything.” you scoffed shaking your head before muttering “Have a good day Sammy.” and exiting the kitchen.

“You have a nice day, too, honey.” Dean said albeit a bit more hesitantly, voice small.

“Don't tell me what to do!” you yelled both so that he could hear you and so that he knew you were far from alright “And stay the fuck away from my leftover fries!”

“I- alright.” Dean let out a breath, eyes wide before he shook his head and cleared his throat “Ok, well, it's safe to say that we don't have to wonder or worry anymore, right? So, silver lining.”

“Well, that did look like an (Y/n) who hasn't slept well, so yes it's safe to say we can be sure about what troubles her. Though I don't think that you're far from done.”

“No, yeah, I had no such illusion.” Dean sighed, getting his cup and taking a sip “I'm definitely gonna be sleeping on the floor for the next week.”

“Hmm maybe make it two?”

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi. I hope you had/are having a great summer break. I (INTP) am hoping for some perspective about an issue. Recently, my mother, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, became incredibly frustrated that I corrected her with an alleged “I know everything” attitude.

It’s an issue of concern because she revealed that I always do this. I guess this was the straw that broke it, especially given that what we were discussing was very trivial. (Maybe the frivolousness of the subject is precisely what made my correction seem more pedantic, unnecessary, arrogant.) She says that my attitude disregards her long life experience, and that if she were a stranger, she would think of me as a “snot-nosed brat who knows nothing about life” instead of as a “wise young person”, which is the viable alternative. She said that I am closed-minded and that I shoot everything down. (The problem of small-mindedness is what you addressed the only other time I wrote to you.)

I don’t know why I come off as arrogant. I’m sure that I’m not. I asked my mother what it was that made her think that, which she thought was a silly question because what she sensed was a general demeanor rather than specific behaviors. In the end we were only able to establish that my lack of eye contact was one of those factors. I can work on that, but surely that’s not determinant. What makes people think of others as arrogant? Should I stop correcting people? I don’t correct others in order to feel superior to them. I do it because I like to debate, in order to keep my thinking sharp, and because there is something painful about friends/family having false notions. I think it’s fair to say that my intention isn’t rooted in arrogant soils.

Granted, my suggestion of stopping correcting people is black-and-white, given that there is the grey option of changing the *way* I correct people. I’m just wondering if it’s an unhealthy habit in the first place. But given how prevalent a thought process it is (i.e. questioning people’s statements and finding faults), the process of getting rid of it may be akin to self-directed psychological violence. I mean, this is the same mode of being that makes me good at what I’m good at. (There’s also the option of keeping the thought process, but not correcting people aloud, but I don’t know what else there is to talk about other than analyzing ideas and their faults. Maybe I should analyze ideas for their strengths too, and express that side more than the faults.)

So anyway, let’s go with grey: So far I’ve tried thinking of an arrogant person that I know in order to understand my behavior, but I can’t think of anyone. Also, no matter how hard I try to put myself in someone else’s shoes in order to simulate an interaction with myself, it doesn’t really work, and I can’t see the arrogance, except if I were to just tell someone “that’s wrong” without any explanation. (I wonder if that’s what went wrong in the conversation with my mother.) Either way, this whole issue boils down to the fact that I’m not arrogant by any reasonable criteria that I found online, but that I come off as such. This was longer than intended. Thanks for your kindness and help.

-----------------------

Here are some questions for you to reflect on. They are meant to increase awareness of your underlying assumptions, beliefs, and values. Answer honestly:

Do you care about your mom? Do you care about how she's faring, what she's experiencing, what she's thinking or feeling, what she needs and desires, what she hopes for or aspires to, etc?

If you care, how do you SHOW your care to her?

If you don't care, how does that affect your behavior toward her?

Do you believe that the mother-child relationship only goes one-way? (Is it the mom's job to do for you but you owe her nothing?)

You say you like to debate to sharpen your mind. Innocent enough. I like to roller skate to keep myself physically fit. In an ideal world, I would never take my skates off. Does my enthusiasm for roller skating mean that I slap my skates on anywhere, any time? No. Surely it is inappropriate to skate around a hospital or the supermarket. Not only could I seriously harm myself, I would also be exhibiting flagrant disregard for the safety and well-being of others.

What you like to do for yourself sometimes comes into conflict with other people. If you care about people and hope to have healthy and happy relationships with them, you have to take their needs and wants into consideration in every interaction. You have to abide by ethical rules and principles that allow your needs to be met without neglecting the needs of others or interfering with their ability to get their needs met. Without ethics, society wouldn't be able to function, because it would just be a free-for-all.

You mention small-mindedness. It is quite small-minded to walk around the world only thinking about what you need/want. In the best case scenario, you are completely oblivious to others, and they will perceive you as clueless or self-absorbed. In the worst case scenario, you only interact with people for your own personal gain, and that would make you an exploitative or even abusive person. Is that the kind of person you want to be?

Do you basically treat people as though their sole purpose on earth is to debate you and help you sharpen your mind - to serve you? Do you launch into debates with people without asking for consent or checking to see if they want to be corrected? If you do, they will call you arrogant, not because you've put yourself on a pedestal and call yourself superior like an evil cartoon character, but because you are communicating to them that your needs/wants are most important AND you don't give a damn about theirs.

Webster's definition of arrogance: "an insulting way of thinking or behaving that comes from believing that you are better, smarter, or more important than other people". You believe that you know better, otherwise, you wouldn't grant yourself the social authority to intrude on people's boundaries, invalidate their experience, and correct them uninvited. You believe that you are smarter, otherwise, you wouldn't automatically assume the dominant social role of corrector. You behave as though you are the more important member of the relationship because your main priority is YOUR need to feel better (about your skills or about what others believe) while overlooking the other person's needs. Seems like you fit the definition quite well.

Despite that, I wouldn't call you arrogant because I understand that small-mindedness is a difficult problem to overcome. I see the effort that you're putting in to understand it. I'm charitable because I'm not the one who was hurt by your behavior. When people feel hurt, they often have difficulty expressing it. Maybe it comes out clumsily or they aren't able to explain their hurt without hurting you in return. Expressing one's true feelings is to make oneself vulnerable. If someone doesn't trust you to understand and validate their feelings or, worse, they believe that you will attack them for their feelings, they will not be completely honest with you. Your mom is trying her best to give you the benefit of the doubt by saying "if you were a stranger...", but she doesn't feel comfortable enough with you to express her hurt fully and explicitly as it happens. Why? Because the very reason she is hurt in the first place is that you have shown very little regard for her feelings. Following from the previous post of yours, the root of the problem is that you have such a poor understanding of feelings to begin with that you view them as inconsequential in yourself and others (very immature Fe).

I believe you have no ill-intent. I have said before that the typical Ti dom never sets out to hurt people on purpose. Rather, they hurt people unintentionally because their perspective is too small: 1) they don't grasp that other people's needs may be very different from their own and thereby fail to consider them, 2) they don't know how to empathize with different perspectives and validate them, and/or 3) they don't understand that SHOWING love and care is necessary for people to justify continued investment in the relationship.

In other words, Ti doms tend to hurt people out of negligence or acts of omission. Some of them get frustrated at not being able to solve their relationship problems. They might try to convince themselves that doing nothing means that no harm can be done, so they adopt a passive stance in the relationship and perhaps even train themselves to keep their mouth shut (self-violence). They fail to understand that there's more than one way to cause hurt. Instead of learning better relationship skills, they check out mentally and emotionally. Being checked out only makes it worse because you hurt yourself and you keep hurting others by being even less attentive to their needs.

The foundation of meaningful relationships is showing care. In a healthy relationship, people trust you to care for their emotional needs and not violate their personal boundaries. If you only attend to your own needs/wants in social interaction, you are signalling that you don't really care about the other person. This problem with your mom shows that you give little to no consideration for emotional needs and personal boundaries. If you don't want friends, it's entirely your choice to be alone for the rest of your life, pretending that you never leave any footprints behind you. If you want friends, you'll have to put out more effort to be a better friend, by paying more attention to the consequences of your behavior.

Doing things that violate trust and boundaries, even if unintentional, causes hurt. When people feel hurt and don't feel safe to express the hurt, they are liable to say/do negative things. To have good emotional intelligence is to see past the surface of their negative words/behavior and grasp the underlying emotional needs that were unmet and/or the personal boundaries that were violated. Only then can you be a morally responsible member of a relationship, in terms of owning all the ways that you impact people, both positively and negatively.

Arrogant people don't care about the social impact they produce. As long as they get what they want and don't lose anything, the existence of others is of little importance to them. If your mom is important to you, then learn how to show it better by listening to her when she tells you about her needs/wants. You hyperfocus on the literal meaning of the word "arrogant" and whether it is true/false of you, as though proving it false means that there's nothing wrong. You need to listen to the people you have hurt, if you want to understand why your behavior is hurtful. Alternatively, you need to educate yourself about emotional needs, interpersonal boundaries, and what constitutes un/ethical behavior and why.

[ajeepgirl]

Dr. Love Drug

Summary:  Kara solar flares but then gets very very sick. In her very sick state, she takes a bunch of cough medicine and maybe gets a teeny tiny bit high from it, and then goes to the pharmacy for medicine. Once there, Kara meets the most beautiful woman she has ever seen. And well, in her current state, chaos ensues.

Read On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33649807

Kara was doing it herself. Alone. Solo. If only to prove to Alex, Maggie, Winn, Lucy, and James that she could. Sure, maybe she had never done it before, because she never needed to do it before. But here she was, doing it. She could do it.

That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway, as she walked down the street, to the pharmacy near her apartment.

Her pounding head and double vision be damned.

She really hates it when she solar flares… Even more so when she winds up sick because of it. This time though, she isn’t just sick, no, she somehow got a massive sinus affection, pink eye, and the flu, all at the same time. All her friends were steering clear of her. Even Alex didn’t want to go near her.

Kara stumbles as she walks into the pharmacy, catching herself on a shelf, she blinks a few times to try to clear her vision and her head. It doesn’t help. Neither did the bottle of cough syrup she chugged that morning, apparently, as she coughs a few times. Nothing seems to help. She has no idea how humans stand being sick. Or how they haven’t figured out how to eradicate bacteria and viruses that lead to this level of suffering. She attempts to breathe through her nose, before remembering how stuffed it is, and resorts back to her awkward mouth breathing as she makes her way to the back of the store to the pharmacy (“You need real medicine!” Alex insisted, as she filled out some pad with scribbles on it).

It’s what led to Kara coming here. Alex was filling it out, saying she would run to the pharmacy for her, when she got a call from the DEO, from J’onn. It was an emergency. Kara insisted she could get the medicine herself. She knew without Supergirl, that the DEO needed her sister. Alex hesitated, she didn’t want Kara wandering around the city alone, in her current state. But when Kara pointed out that Alex had no idea how long her emergency would take, she caved and handed over the white slip of paper, setting it on the counter, giving Kara plenty of space, not wanting to catch whatever plague she had.

Alex thought she was funny. Kara did not.

As Kara approached the pharmacy, she waited for the person in front of her to finish, and she noticed how her head felt like it was flying… or more accurately, floating, several feet above her body. Was this another symptom? Maybe she did overdo it with the cough syrup after Alex left. She had no idea how much to take. The numbers on the bottle were too small to read in her current condition. Oh well. Too late now.

“Next?” Kara hears the female voice through her muffled ears.

Kara smiles widely as she hands over the folded pieces of paper. The pharmacist, a woman with long dark hair and piercing green eyes, takes the paper and opens it, and then looks back at Kara, her eyebrow raised curiously.

“Miss, this isn’t your prescription. It’s just a sticky note with your name and number.”

Now, if Kara had been in her right state of mind, she would have realized her error. She would have realized that she had grabbed the wrote piece of paper off her counter at the apartment. She had written this down before, when she was prepping for a meeting with a contact for a new article. She wanted to have it ready to go, to hand off to the person. But then a fight happened, and the solar flare happened, and she got sick… and well, the paper ended up back on her counter.

Apparently, right next to where Alex sat the prescription.

Kara, however, was not in her right state of mind. Oh no, in fact, the moment she looked at the woman behind the counter, all she could focus on was how strikingly beautiful she was. Her jawline could cut glass. Her hair was long but pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her eyes, though, are what Kara couldn’t stop going back to.

As the woman spoke to Kara, she simply stared back for a moment, the fog in her mind seeming to block out her ability to function.

“Miss?” The woman said again.

This time, Kara looks at the pharmacist, the wide grin back on her face, her nose red, as her brain decides to work a little bit more as she says, “I guess I just need your love drug.”

The pharmacist simply stares back, silent.

But Kara, she didn’t stop there, oh no. She then leans in, and whispers. “Can I tell you something?”

The woman is now smirking, intrigued by the clearly very sick and apparently high, person before her. The woman bends forward ever so slightly. “I’m listening.”

Kara looks around, dramatically, to the very empty area around her. “I’m Supergirl.”

And then… Kara gives her a wink… and does finger guns.

It’s surreal, as the woman stands there, staring at her, taking her in fully for the first time, really sizing her up. As she does, Kara reaches up to take her glasses off. And that’s when she realizes… she was never wearing them.

Her eyes go wide as she looks back at the woman before her, as a second of sanity creeps its way into the fog of Kara’s mind as she also realizes that in her sick state, she has also left her hair hang down. “Oh Rao. I just did that.”

And the woman laughs.

“It is not funny,” Kara says as she leans back down again, this time at her name tag, “Dr. Kieran.”

The woman looks backward to the clock on the wall. “It’s time for my break, let’s take a walk, shall we?”

Kara’s eyes widen and then narrow. “Why?”

This time, the woman, Dr. Kieran, leans in. Kara naturally also tilts in to listen. “Because we shouldn’t talk about secret identities in public.”

Kara nods seriously as Dr. Kieran disappears for a moment in the back of the pharmacy and then reappear as she exits the pharmacy from a door a few feet from Kara. She waves Kara over to her as she walks towards the exit.

“Do you live near here?” she asks Kara as they make their way outside.

Kara nods and heads in that direction, with Dr. Kieran a half step behind her. Halfway there though, Kara starts to get woozy, the energy needed to be up and moving around this much apparently taking more out of her than she realizes. She turns to her new friend, eyes a little panicked looking. “Um… I think… I might…”

“Oh, fuck me. Don’t you dare-” Dr. Kieran says it as she turns to Kara, arms out, ready to catch her.

And that’s all Kara hears before she feels herself start to fall and the world goes black.

---------------

Kara feels warm, like she is wrapped by the sun when she starts to awaken. It takes her a moment to realize she is wrapped in several blankets. As she opens her eyes, she realizes she is most definitely not in her own apartment. She starts to sit up, a quick gasp coming out of her mouth.

“Woah, easy there,” comes the melodious voice from earlier that day. A hand lands on her shoulder. Kara turns slightly to see the familiar green eyes. “Easy, Kara, you might pass out again.”

Kara hesitates, feeling the woman’s hand on her shoulder and recalling the events from earlier. “How long was I out?” she asks.

Dr. Kieran glances at the clock on the wall. “About two hours.”

Kara looks around for her phone but doesn’t see it anywhere. “Do you know where my phone is?”

Dr. Kieran’s head tilts in confusion. “You didn’t have a phone on you, Kara. Just some cash and that sticky note you… mistook for a prescription.”

Kara feels her cheeks go red. “Right…”

Dr. Kieran sits down next to her on the coffee table. “Hey, I need to check your temperature, ok? See if your fever has broken.”

Kara nods, giving permission to Dr. Kieran, who then feels her forehead. “Oh good, I think it has finally broken. Now, do you want to tell me exactly how much cough syrup you took? I was afraid to give you any medicine because I wasn’t sure exactly how high you were.”

Kara feels her cheeks turn a brighter shade of red. “I… um… well… I wasn’t sure how much was enough… and I just… wouldn’t stop coughing…”

Dr. Kieran hums. “Don’t get sick often do we, Supergirl?”

Kara’s eyes widen. “What? Um… I’m not… who told you that?”

“You did.” She says, matter-of-factly.

The reminder sends the memory flashing through Kara’s mind. “Oh Rao. I… I said that… in public. Alex is going to kill me.”

“Who is Alex?” Dr. Kieran asks, interrupting Kara’s thoughts of panic.

“Oh, my… my sister. She is very protective of me.”

Dr. Kieran nods understandingly. “Well, my security specialist Querl has already made the security tape from the pharmacy disappear.”

“I’m… wait, you did what now?” Kara says confused.

The woman smiles at Kara mischievously. “I said, your sister doesn’t need to worry, I was the only one there when you said it, and any proof of you saying it, has been taken care of.”

“Wow… um… thank you,” Kara stammers out as she feels her face heating up again.

Dr. Kieran half smiles. “Now that we have all that settled. How about I get you some soup from my kitchen, and we get you all better, ok?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Kara says. “I… I can go home… I can manage…”

“Kara, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you clearly have no idea what to do when you are sick. And it appears, based on the fact that you showed up at the pharmacy, that you could use someone’s assistance in this matter. So please, let me help you.”

“Why? I mean… why would you help me? Why not out me? You literally have my full name and number.”

The pharmacist gives Kara a sad smile. “I know you don’t know me, personally, Kara. But you spend your time, when you are being Supergirl, protecting people. I assume that means you think there are people worth protecting, yes?”

Kara nods slowly.

“Well, even superheroes need protecting, sometimes too. Whether that is from some big bad evil person, or from a teeny tiny flu virus. So please, let me help you this one time.” She gives Kara a small smile as she gets up and walks off toward the kitchen, though not before giving her a small squeeze on the shoulder.

Kara lays back down, her mind swirling. This woman, Dr. Kieran, might just be the most brilliant, kindhearted, beautiful soul she has ever met.

----------------

Kara falls asleep shortly after she finishes the soup. When she awakes again, she finds Dr. Kieran in the chair next to her, reading a book.

“Ah, how is our patient?” she asks, seeing Kara stirring as she sits up.

Kara takes stock of her symptoms, noticing that she can breathe a little easier now. “I think I am on the mend, doc,” she says with a smile.

“Lena,” she says in return. “You can call me Lena.”

Kara smiles. “Thank you for your hospitality. I should probably get going though. My sister is probably freaking out.”

“Oh… about that,” Lena says as she pulls out a familiar phone. “With your name and number, I was able to find your address. I sent Querl over to retrieve your phone. Good thing I did too, you left your door unlocked.”

Kara blushes as she takes the phone from Lena. “Thank you…”

She sees five missed calls from her sister. “Oh no… Um… excuse me?”

Lena nods with a small smile. “Of course, I will make myself scarce so you can talk to your sister.”

The conversation doesn’t go completely awful. Though Kara might have skipped over the part where she told the pharmacist that she was Supergirl and only told her sister the part about how she passed out and the pharmacist she met is taking care of her for now.

“My sister would like for me to text her your address. Otherwise, she might be forced to use her government job to find you,” Kara says, using air quotes for the second part of her statement, as Lena reenters the room a few minutes later.

Lena laughs. “Good luck with that.”

Kara’s head tilts in confusion.

Lena only shrugs. “Long story. Look, I can drive you back to your place, whenever you want. No need for big sis to storm the castle.”

“Thank you,” Kara says with a gracious smile.

“I didn’t know Supergirl had a sister,” Lena says as she sits back down in her chair.

“Oh… she is human. My… adopted sister, from my Earth family. Very wonderful people. But very protective.”

“Ah, I see, adoption is… always complicated,” Lena says solemnly.

“You were adopted too?” Kara asks.

Lena nods. “When I was four. But we should really be focusing on you, Kara and getting you better.”

“You are doing a great job so far,” Kara says with a toothy smile.

“Oh, is my love drug working?” Lena says back with a smirk.

Kara’s face turns bright red. “Um…”

Lena chuckles. “How about I get you some fluids, maybe some water and Gatorade?”

She stands up and walks off, leaving Kara to stammer to herself for a moment. By the time Lena comes back with the drinks for her, Kara has seemingly recovered enough to speak again.

Lena hands her the water first. “Thank you. And can I just say, for the record, you are an amazingly gorgeous, attractive person.”

Lena smiles, a slight blush creeping up her neck.

“And I would love to have met you under circumstances where I wasn’t…”

“High on cough syrup?”

“Sick, I was going to say, sick,” Kara counters. “Anyway… I wanted to also thank you for taking care of me… and apologize for ruining your day.”

Lena sits down on the coffee table in front of Kara as she speaks, an odd, unreadable expression on her face. “You… don’t need to apologize for anything, Kara. I am just glad that it seems like after a few more hours of sleep, that you are nearly recovered. I assume that perhaps your powers are starting to return?”

Kara gives a small nod. “I think my cells are slowly reactivating, yes. I can tell that my sickness is nearly gone.”

“That’s wonderful. You will be out there saving people again in no time.”

“Wait, how did you know my powers were returning?” Kara asks, her mind finally starting to work a bit clearer again.

Lena has a thin small smile. “I suppose I couldn’t convince you that I just looked it up on the internet, could I?”

Kara’s head tilts sideways as she gives a soft, pouting look.

Lena lets out a low sigh. “I have a sibling too.”

“Oh?” Kara asks, unsure of how this connects at all to what they were just talking about. She is even more confused than before.

“You have probably heard of him since your cousin has worked closely with him,” Lena says as she stares down at the floor.

“Wh… what are you saying, Lena?” Kara asks as she sits up fully now.

Lena looks up, green eyes meeting blue as she searches in Kara, hoping that Kara won’t judge her for what she is about to say.

“My brother is Lex… Lex Luthor.”

The room falls silent.

Kara stares at Lena.

Seconds tick by.

Lena, unable to take it any longer, stands and says, “I understand… I can drive you home… or pay a service to take you home… whichever you prefer.”

Kara’s hand reaches out, and grabs Lena’s, holding her in place. “No, wait, I’m sorry. I’m just… still processing.”

Lena looks down, seeing Kara’s hand still wrapped around her own. She looks back at Kara, who uses her free hand to pat the couch, inviting Lena to sit next to her. “Please, sit down? I would like to hear your story… if you want to share it.”

Lena lets out a shaky breath as she smiles and says, “Ok.”

She sits next to Kara and tells her all about her life, though she focuses mostly on the past couple of years. She tells her how she went into hiding after Lex’s attack. She knows it is only a matter of time before he finds a way out of prison. So, she went into hiding under the name Kieran. She moved across the country to National City and got a job as a pharmacist. She has a private security team that she trusts with her life, and she has a small science lab in her home where she continues to tinker and build inventions. And she hopes to eventually launch a new science and technology company under a new name. But for now, she is steering clear of the limelight and of Lex’s prying eyes.

Kara is quiet as she listens intently to Lena’s story. She remembers her own thoughts from earlier that day and is glad she was right - brilliant, kindhearted, beautiful.

“Lena, wow, I’m glad you are safe.”

“You… you believe me?” Lena asks, surprised.

Kara nudges her with her shoulder. “Of course, I believe you. You literally took care of me all day today. You rescued me. I mean, I was wondering around the city, completely discombobulated, out of my mind, and then I passed out. You are my knight in a white lab coat!”

This draws a laugh out of them both.

“I’m glad I could help, Kara, seriously. I know I don’t have to… but a part of me feels like I should be trying to make up for all the evil things my brother has done.”

Kara nods, knowingly. “I understand. In a lot of ways, I feel like I am trying to make up for the sins of my people… I… I have to save this world because my parents couldn’t save my world.”

“Wow… yeah, Kara… that’s… that’s a heavy burden to carry. Can I ask, why you and not your cousin?”

Kara lets out a long sigh before she explains. “He was an infant… he has no memory of our planet. But me, I was a teenager. And it was my parents who played a huge role in the destruction of the planet by ignoring my Aunt Astra’s warnings. So… in a way… I have to make sure that I do not repeat the sins of my family’s past… my people’s past. My cousin, Superman, Kal El, he has no memories of these things… so they do not weight on him… or haunt him… like they do me.”

“Kara…” Lena says, trailing off. “I… I don’t know what to say… I cannot image being the last of your people… to have lost so much… and yet still feel such a strong desire to help and to protect… I think I would drown in my sorrow if I was in your position.”

Kara’s eyes glimmer with the hint of tears as she shrugs slightly. “Sometimes I do.”

Lena wraps an arm around Kara. “And that’s ok. I lose it all the time because of what happened with my brother.”

This makes Kara chuckle a little as she lets herself sink into Lena. “Just wait until you see Alex blow up at me for being gone for so long. She is going to lose her mind.”

That makes them both laugh even more.

They stay like that for some time, chatting about siblings and family and life before and after being adopted. They can both sense a shared connection, something beyond the fact that Kara is a Super and that Lena is a Luthor. There is something underneath the hero/villain storyline personified by their family ties. There is a story of heartbreak and tragedy and loss that both share. There is the openness and hope that Kara still carries strongly with her, which Lena cannot help but admire. There is the unwavering kindness and brilliance that Lena has despite the way she has been treated by those who claimed to love her throughout her life, which Kara cannot help but be in awe of.

When there is a pounding on Lena’s door later that evening, the two finally pull apart.

“That would be Alex,” Kara says, standing up.

Lena chuckles. “I know. I had Querl wait by your apartment to give her my address.”

Kara laughs, knowing Alex will be so angry she couldn’t figure it out herself. Lena makes her way to the door as Kara follows closely behind.

“Hello, Agent Danvers,” Lena says as she opens the door.

Kara pokes her head from behind Lena. “Hey sis! Give me one minute, ok! I’ll be out in one minute, I promise!”

Alex’s eyes go furious with murder as she grits her teeth. “Fine. One minute.” She eyes Lena closely as Lena smiles widely and closes the door again.

She turns to face Kara, a curious look on her face.

“Well, doc, I don’t have your number. You know, in case I need it for… a follow up.”

Lena’s lips purse together as she tries to hide the smile that wants to launch across her face. She holds her hand out for Kara’s phone, which Kara excitedly hands over. When Lena hands it back, Kara can’t help but giggle when she sees what Lena puts in for her name.

Dr. Love Drug

Kara immediately opens her camera, looks her arm around Lena, and pulls her in for a selfie. Lena’s only half smiling in the picture, caught between a look of confusion and attempting to smile for the picture. Kara sends the picture to Lena as soon as she takes it.

“You know, in case you wanted a token to remember the day,” Kara says with a grin as Lena hears her phone go off from the other room.

Lena shakes her head side to side. “What have I gotten myself into?” she says out loud.

“Oh, just you wait, all the cute dog videos are coming your way,” Kara responds as she opens the door.

Lena smiles fondly. “Goodbye, Kara.”

Kara looks back at Lena one final time, smiling brightly. “Thanks again, Lena.”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 136

This chapter was a chance to explore some more science-based tropes that I absolutely love in stories.  The truth is, when I’m working at my day job, I love listening to documentaries on Curiosity and YouTube channels like Answers with Joe or Kurzgesagt. My love of science fiction actually comes from my love of space and astronomy, not the other way around.

In no way, shape, or form, does this chapter cover any of the concepts in question in full. It’s just a quick convo between Sophia and a good friend ;)

My thanks, as always, go to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname. Plus all of YOU!

Even as my mind wandered, I couldn’t help but grin a bit as I took my weekly stroll through the corridors of the Ark with Miys in tow.  For several years now, we had a standing appointment on my calendar that both Alistair and Tyche treated as sacrosanct - just some time for me to spend with our host, my friend, and learn more about each other.  When I had originally arrived on the Ark, any time I was seen walking with them, other humans would give me odd looks, but never approach.  Now, people would recognize me, smile, and wave, but still never interrupted the strolls.

It was nice. Like my weekly family dinners, it was a routine, pleasant part of my life. Especially days like today, when we were entering the dawn-cycle and each day became a little brighter. It made me wonder about other civilizations, ones that would have evolved in conditions like the ones we were adapting ourselves for. How did it affect them? How would it affect us as generations passed? Future generations were certainly going to be shorter, due to the high gravity. Would it change our technological advances as well - 

“Wisdom, why are you thinking so hard about Gestrcht Clusters?” Miys interrupted my thoughts.

“Hm?” I asked absently. “What’s a Jestrick Cluster?”

“Gestrcht,” they corrected mildly. “Gestrcht clusters are a type of civilization that has adapted to live in artificial platforms surrounding their sun, in order to better harness the solar energy, radiation, or heat needed.”

“You mean a Dyson swarm?” I tried to clarify, confused.

“All of the galaxy calls them Gestrcht clusters, therefore I think that is what you mean.”

“Alright, alright,” I laughed, holding my hands up in defeat. “The reason I was thinking about Gestruck clusters - “

“Gestrcht”

“I will work on it. The reason I was thinking about those is… I was wondering how living on Von will change our priorities. In our history, those constructions were something that fascinated both imagination and science - something several people thought was our launching pad to a Kardashev Type II civilization, or the singularity point. Maybe both.”

“Kardashev…” they hummed for a moment, thinking. “Only humanity would create goals of technological advancement that required destruction on a multi-planetary scale.”

I desperately wanted to object, but strongly suspected they were right. “So we were wrong, again? There are no civilizations out there that would fit what we imagined for a Kardashev I or II race?”

“I will concede to the existence of species that you would consider both. However, it is not how you believe it to be - humanity would never have been able to accomplish it without greater sacrifice than they have ever known.”

Oh boy. “Tell me? I want to understand why other species could do it, but we could not.” My curiosity needed to know.

They held up one of their liw, rocking it back and forth in imitation of a human head tilt. “Species that have managed to harness all of the energy produced by their planet, and not destroy their environments, have historically been those who had very little power to harness to begin with. These civilizations come from either very harsh, or very gentle worlds - never anything in between. Abundant wind energy scouring a planetary desert can greatly benefit a species who can harness that wind to temper it and create a paradise. A planet with no atmosphere, but incredible amounts of geothermal energy runs little risk in being able to direct all of that volcanic activity to its benefit. But Earth?”

“Is a deathworld,” I pointed out. “You said so yourself.”

“This is true, but it is not a deathworld in the way So’Kn is, for example. Preeyar and So’kn are planets that are lethal for very singular reasons: So’Kn is a frozen waste of permanent night and eternal wind. It is so harsh that only So’Knor can truly survive there with without significant technological assistance. Preeyar only has atmosphere in its valleys, and that is thinner than most species can survive, much less the fact that there are no liquids on Preeyar. None. The air pressure is too low to allow it for any chemicals that are naturally occurring, and the atmosphere violently reacts with any elements that could exist in liquid form. It is, in fact, believed that the rift valleys were caused by simply an icy meteor impacting the planet.”

“Ho-lee shit,” I whispered.

“I doubt many cultures would find it holy at all,” they joked drily. “Whereas Earth… There is no one singular quality about Earth that classifies it as a deathworld. Instead, there are several, each stemming from the abundant forms of energy offered by your home world.”

“Seriously!?”

“Indeed. And the combinations thereof. The length of natural disasters that are possible, alone, is unique to Earth. Tornadoes and earthquakes. Flooding and wildfires. Volcanoes and hurricanes. Methane just rising from your lakes to kill large swathes of people. Lakes below your oceans, Wisdom! Volcanoes below your oceans! It is insanity to the entirety of the Galaxy, and yet humans consider that just a normal aspect of existence.”

“And… what exactly does that have to do with being able to harness all the energy of our planet, exactly?” To say I was confused was an understatement.

To their credit, Miys only reached with one vomu to make a ‘nose pinching’ gesture against its head. “Earth, somehow, is only habitable and so abundant in life because everything exists in a precarious balance. Surely, the last two centuries of your own history demonstrated that. Attempting to harness all of the admittedly prodigious energy of your planet would have ended up destroying that balance beyond compare.”

I tried to comprehend it. I really did. Focusing on what little I knew, I thought about dams. Those were familiar to me - I had grown up in an area that dammed every river and creek possible for everything from grain mills and fruit presses, to artificial fish ponds, to electricity. “Starting there…” it was faster not to explain out loud when I knew Miys was following along with the home game, “Damming a river creates a lake. That floods an area that already has a habitat, and dries out another area that already has an aquatic habitat.”

“And prevents floods that fertilize fields and redistribute minerals from erosion, yes.”

“Right. Times every river, creek, and faint trickle on Earth…” I stopped myself. Every river. The Amazon. The Nile. “And we just washed out what’s left of the largest rainforest on Earth.”

“Leaving more carbon in the air…” they encouraged.

“And increasing the greenhouse effect, increasing heat on the surface, melting more ice, which - hey, more wind, amirite? - but changing planetary albedo, more water, wetter Sahara, no dust to fertilize… South America? Dammit, are we back to killing the Amazon again?”

“That is just one form of energy, Wisdom. But I feel you are understanding the issue.”

“Yeahhhh…” I trailed off. “Okay, so. Kardashev I is no bueno tacos for Earth. What if we skipped straight to Kardashev II slash singularity?” I made a point to focus on the concept of technological singularity very hard, so there would be less need for research on their part. You know, spare myself half a minute or so. “The Gestrkt clusters.”

“Closer,” they admitted, although I was suspicious they meant my pronunciation and not the idea that humanity would ever get there. “Humanity is not… suited, for Gestrcht clusters.”

“Wait, what?”

“Humanity is too curious, too social, and too exploratory. Your fiction abounds with every variation of different worlds and strange universes you could possibly conceive of. And it constantly expanded - your oldest texts involve travelling to your moon, and when you actually reached it, you looked further out - other systems, other galaxies, other dimensions. Gestrcht clusters require such substantial resources and maintenance, there is little left over for exploration.”

“There are humans who would be perfectly content living in such a structure,” I argued, although my heart wasn’t in it. I wouldn’t have been, knowing that other worlds were out there.

“Not enough to sustain it, unfortunately. Not even in what you call the Before.” Lightly resting one vomu on my shoulder, they squeezed gently. “Wisdom, humanity has always wanted to see other worlds. Gestrcht clusters are all or nothing.”

“And singularity?” I asked, barely managing a hoarse whisper.

“It is true that there have been some singleton species that have achieved what you term singularity with technology. Fewer have been successful.” When I glanced at them, all six upper appendages were held up in defense. “Hive minds are uniquely suited to it, and even some of us,” they waved those same six appendages at their torso, “would never accept it. I could never imagine not having the chance to travel the galaxy, to be with other races as they experience it. Add to that, humanity is somehow both individual and social. Removing that line, that choice? I doubt your kind would thrive. Postulate this: Derek, in a hive mind.”

“Absolutely not,” came my unhesitating response, disgust and violence trembling in every limb before I calmed myself. “And I see your point. Integrating technology in our lives, into how we function…” I tapped my head for emphasis, “that’s one thing. It makes our lives better, by making sure that Derek, and others, can have their personal space protected.” The more I thought about it… I never considered the idea in reference to ‘now’, only ‘eventually’. What if we did it now, and I was one of the people - suddenly never alone, always connected to every thought of strangers via technology. What if Tyche was? Or Maverick? Hell, Charly? “I think I need a shower, now,” I admitted, skin crawling.

“Humanity could achieve both,” Miys confirmed, although it didn’t feel as reassuring as I had hoped it would at the beginning of our conversation. “But I don’t think humanity would truly want to live in Gestrcht clusters or singularity, given any other choice but extinction.”

Laughing, I wiped a tear from one eye.  It was a bitter truth, but still true. “I think you’re right.”

“I may be wrong,” they countered. “As I said, there are singleton species who have made those transitions and the entire galaxy is better for it.”

“Some hope that we weren’t entirely wrong would be nice right about now,” I mumbled as I scuffed my shoe at the floor. There wasn’t anything to kick except Else-puffs, and that was just mean as fuck.

“Most species that made a transition to Gestrcht clusters early in their development are belligerent, insular species. The fact that they must focus all their efforts and resources on maintaining their platforms prevents them from becoming actively warlike. As far as ‘singularity’... singleton species who thrive in that transition are often species who cannot thrive on a galactic scale otherwise.”

Huh? I craned my neck to try to look up at them in the perpetual-dawn light. “What do you mean?”

Miys flicked a datapad open - one I know they only wore for our sakes, seeing as they could not actually see anything on the purely-optical screen, I had learned. They could only navigate it if interacting with a human, so they could ‘see’ what they needed to tap out.

Needless to say, Charly and Grey had been working for years on one that responded to sonic commands.

Eventually, a seven-fingered flick caused my own databand to chirp. I flicked it open to see the file. “They… Noah, this looks like sentient pollen… or feathers…” Realistically, any description I tried to create fell devastatingly short. The being on my datapad moved as though it was floating on wind, with tens of thousands of filament-fine tendrils swaying and navigating. The sound it created reminded me of the sound of snowfall, if snowflakes could sing opera. “They’re beautiful,” I sniffed, driving back tears at knowing something so breathtaking existed.

“They also cannot survive off their planet, unfortunately. Even the transition out of their atmosphere is lethal to them.”

My heart shattered into a million pieces. “What is their name?”

“No one knows for certain. But they have achieved a sort of singularity - once they have matured and reproduced, they upload themselves at the end of their very brief lifecycles. In the Galactic Community, they are known as Odvub.”

“Odvub…” I whispered, holding out my fingers like I could actually touch the screen.

“Outside of a Hujylsogox rescue ship, it is nearly impossible to avoid encountering Odvub. Most believe they are some sort of galactic artificial intelligence, and they prefer to allow that belief.”

“Why are you telling me this, then?”

“They have permitted it, when these sort of questions are asked. To show what desperation is required for a singleton species to thrive in singularity.”

I sniffed, desperately trying not to cry at their situation. “Do they know about humans?”

“They may be the only species who could not avoid knowing about it. But Odvub believes your people are hearty, and adaptable, and should never suffer their fate. They advised, in the event that your people ever ask about singularity, to do this…” Miys gently cupped my cheek in one liw and patted it, “and tell you that you will never need to resort to what they had to do, and that they look forward to meeting your people one day.”

“Obviously not face to face,” I admitted quietly. “I have allergens that are more substantial than they are.”

“It is considered a great honor in the Galactic Community for this icon to display when  you interact with Odvub.” Miys gestured at the vicinity of the image on my datapad. “Only those who know why, know why it is an honor.”

“We’ll take it,” I laughed, tears streaming down my cheeks. “All of humanity may never know why, but we’ll take it. If I may tell Arthur, we probably will know why.” He would see to it. Loudly, angrily, derisive of anyone who mocked it. “Regardless, we’ll take it, all the same.”

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[flowerflamestars]

Hey hey hey 😀 not sure if you've been getting my asks(could really be my WiFi too) or Tumblr has been up to no good again, but hey how was ACOSF? I gather from your updates and posts you're just disappointed by it. A lot of us are. Hope you've been doing well after reading Acosf 😅

Hey babe! I know I have at least one from you that I need to answer- entirely my bad, I’ve been going through my inbox in little chunks. Yall have been too lovely and the influx is great :)

Disappointment is very much the right word. 

The big thing- ignoring that Nesta as a character was meaningful, or that the baby plot line was big swing in every wrong way possible, the plotting is a MESS- is that I think the story resoundingly fails on both it’s goals.

It’s a recovery story, a healing story. And a romance.

BIG SPOILERS AHEAD

Nesta is stripped of her autonomy. And I want to be extremely clear on that- this is framed as an intervention and it is not an intervention. It is not, at any point, really about Nesta becoming healthy. It’s about control. Rhys says it, Feyre says it, Cassian says it: Nesta is a problem. Nesta affects their reputation. Nesta needs to be punished.

Morrigan, a fellow abuse/assault survivor, tells Cassian with absolute seriousness that they should just throw Nesta into the Court of Nightmares and leave her there. Because she’s just as bad.

WHAT

The entire structure is that Nesta needs to change- but it isn’t about her being safer, her finding her way- it’s about the fact that her being suicidally depressed makes her sister sad.

So yeah, Nesta gets stronger. Because one of her two-pronged punishments is army training with the man she once loved and has been trying to distance herself from for YEARS. Who proceeds to control what she wears, when she sleeps, WHAT SHE EATS. Who laughs, when she gets hurt. 

By the end of the story, the issue Nesta has confronted, from her laundry list of trauma is...that she’s bitchy to her sisters in instances of extreme distress/hardship. 

That she...blames herself for the death of her abusive, absent father, who in no way contributed to her life from the time of her mothers death into her adulthood until he showed up for...ten seconds in acowar, named a ship after her, and immediately died. Watching a parent die? traumatic as hell. Retconning an ENTIRE parent-child relationship to make a character have something more palatable to struggle with? Bad writing.

Rape hangs over Nesta like a cloud this whole novel, but she never talks about it. It never in any way comes up while her and Cassian are having rough sex on every available surface.

She never heals, and she never becomes comfortable as a faery. She gives up her power. 

Literally AND figuratively- Nesta is the same person at the end of the novel, but now she can punch really hard? has no magic, gave up a destiny the book STRONGLY IMPLIES was actually, really, always about Rhysand. All that changed is now she’s finally bent enough to play by the rules of the same people who condemned her for responding to the terrible things that happened it her...in ways exactly like they have and continue to do.

It makes me so sad, you know?

Which brings us to Cassian.

Who is supposed to be the emotionally intuitive one. The one who has survived so much, who understands trauma. Who more than that, understands Nesta, better than anyone else.

That is not the man in this book. 

He’ll make this earnest declarations that sound...almost right? and then ten seconds later he’s guilt-tripping her. Saying just, absolute bullshit to her. Sexualizing her in her lowest moments.

It’s not enemies to lovers- Cassian is ashamed of Nesta when the book begins. Takes active glee in physically punishing her when she’s having a breakdown 600 pages later, on what it supposed to be the great tipping point of their relationship.

At no point does this man seem to even LIKE Nesta. He wants to have sex with her. He want her to do what he wants and obey 1) him and 2) their High Lord and Lady. 

Nesta, who even toward the end of the book, as I said STILL IS NOT HEALING AT ALL, tells Cassian: “I don’t deserve you, and I never, ever will.”

Cassian’s response it to...kiss her?

Tell her: “You’re not going to marry Eris.” “There will be no one for else. For either of us.”

And then Nesta says yes, cries more, and they have sex again.

oh yeah, and then in the morning he runs off? To have a snowball fight? And then doesn’t speak to her or see her for three days.

I just. This dynamic never gets better. Proud, strong, intelligent, ferocious Nesta is always kind of like: will you look at me? you’re good and i am not. 

She’s not safe in this love. Not comfortable, not ever on even ground. The entire dynamic of this relationship has brought her low and keeps her there.

So like, in the end. They have this fight where Cassian fully starts yelling at her...in public...because she isn’t saying yes! we’re mates! I’m going to quote it here:

“I am your mate, for fucks sake!” Cassian shouted, loud enough for people across the river to hear. “You are my mate! Why are you still fighting it?”

She let the truth, voiced at last, wash over her.

“You promised me forever on Solstice,” he said, voice breaking, “Why is one word somehow throwing you off that?”

“Because with that one word, the last scrap of my humanity goes away!” She didn’t care who say them, who heard. “With that one stupid word, I am no longer human in any way. I’m one of you!”

He blinked. “I thought you wanted to be one of us.”

“I don’t know what I want. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Well, I didn’t have a choice in being shackled to you, either.”

GUYS. I hate this fight to unfathomable levels.

so yes, he immediately tries to recant it...but like, let’s follow the thread for a minute. They’re together, really together, ever since the stupid moment Nesta said she was trash and didn’t deserve Cassian and Cassian said...you and me! forever! let’s fuck about it!

I get that the matebond is a precious thing- but god, it could not be clearer Cassian just...doesn’t respect Nesta even a little bit? She won’t use the word, so he’s yelling at her.

a page before: “That word means nothing to me, Cassian,” she said, voice thick as she tried to keep people who strode past from overhearing. “It means something to all of you, but for most of my life husband and wife was as good as it got. Mate is just a word.”

BECAUSE SHE WAS HUMAN. Because, very validly... Nesta has been fae for, two years? Her baseline is human, that’s how she feels. And she’s not wrong??

Faeries get married too. It’s not mates or nothing. 

In my imaginary book, Cassian goes: why Archeron, is that a proposal? Because I’d love nothing more than to be your husband.

In THIS BOOK, he snaps: “That’s bullshit.”

Annnd cue fight.

Not only is Cassian so, so disrespectful of Nesta’s feelings...HE THOUGHT SHE WANTED TO BE A FAERY?

Are you kidding me, canon? Nesta was drowned against her will in the Cauldron! Cassian was there, unconscious in a pool of his own blood, still trying to reach her and save her. The ENTIRE pivot of her character that slides her into the dark place this book is meant to heal her from is her complete loss of autonomy at Hyberns hands.

and then the shackle line. I just...obviously, people say things in arguments they don’t mean, But Cassian never once stops going for what hurts the most where Nesta is concerned, and is yet baffled by her responses. He understands how to hurt her, but not how to comfort her when they’re fully clothed.

And then the end is...they’re mates. They’re going to have babies. They’re going to have a big faery mating ceremony. Nesta’s feelings aren’t not addressed, they magically cease to exist.

I’m sorry this turned into a FULL RANT- but yes, I’m disappointed. 

Its always the same story: the difficult woman has to soften. Learn to be nice. Power? she can’t have that. She’s going to have a mate and babies, that’s her journey, because that’s every woman's journey.

There is one bright spot, which I do have to mention. I love Nesta’s friends. 

They’re her real chance at recovery, that the IC have nothing to do with. And you know what? she makes them right off the bat. It’s crazy how if you treat someone like a person, they can function like one.

I just want them to have their own story far, far away from everyone else. 

[dramionediscussion]

I have a concern about Dramione fandom, which has been slightly troubling me lately. I am not saying that this is something that is going to happen, or is happening already. Naturally, I don’t think this is entirely unfounded either (hence why I am writing this), but I am just one Dramione shipper. If this doesn’t resonate at all, that’s totally fine! We are all aware of extremely boorish and fatuous anti-Dramione people, who troll, defame and accuse Dramione of being all sort of things. We are also probably all quite familiar with their claims about the ship and its shippers. You know, Dramione promotes racism, sexism, classism, unhealthy and abusive relationships, it’s all about bashing Ron, it’s just cuz actors are hot, we should all pay homage and tribute to canon relationships (and their shippers naturally), and offer respect and fawn over everything “canonical” for gracing us with all this HP bounty, and so on. This time I am not going to try to offer rebuttals, or deconstruct their arguments, or even psychoanalyze them more than absolutely necessarily. I am not even particularly upset about them (anymore). They are categorically wrong, their arguments are never insightful or thoughtful. Most importantly, they are disingenuous in their argumentation and especially about their own motives. I believe, the best course is ignore them totally. What I am afraid, that these endless arguments, relentless belittling, and even harassment of which they never seem to grow tired off actually might change Dramione shippers and community as well. Not in a conscious way, but constantly being on a defense can make people internalize some of these arguments. Or rather their premises and assumptions on which they are based upon. I don’t mean it, that Dramione shippers will suddenly wake up, and shout out that Dramione was actually all about abusing women all along, or anything like that. What I mean is, that people rather internalize certain assumptions, framing and logic chains, which are build into those arguments. In a defense, they start define what Dramione really means, what is ideal Dramione, what is acceptable or desirable in Dramione fics, in accordance of these attacks, by unconsciously defending their ship from slander. As an example, Romione people constantly accuse that Dramione is either all about mindless “Ron bashing”, and Dramione shippers rightly say that it’s not what Dramione is about at all. What I am afraid, that people might internalize the point, that “Ronbashing” is something truly heinous, and what should be avoided at all cost. And as a corollary to that, ideal Dramione fics are those in which there’s no conflicts between Ron, Draco and Hermione. Or the very least they are resolved in a conciliatory and harmonious manner. Or it is lazy Dramione writing, when Ron is “villainized”. Or another thing they say is, that Dramione just about glorifying and eroticizing abusive relationships. This might lead that some of us accept the framing, that describing or narrating something is totally same as promoting and celebrating it. If they accept it, then it’s quite easy to logically infer, that if Dramione is not defined by Draco abusing Hermione (it’s not), then it must be defined negatively as its opposite. Meaning that something cannot be genuine or accepted Dramione, if it contains an abusive Draco. Or as an induction from that, if a fic has an abusive Draco, it also must contain a redemption arc, and Draco has to change and make amends, and redeem himself as a person. That we start to define Dramione being really about redemption or redeeming, forgiveness, changing oneself for the better, etc (as contrary to their claim that its about abuse). Don’t get me wrong, I’d say the majority of Dramione fics contain a redemption story arc, and Draco either has changed or actively changes his views and behavior. It’s a common and wonderful theme, and almost all my favorite Dramione fics have those, and I like just for its own skae. Yet it’s not something what either makes or unmakes Dramione. There’s a minority of fics, in which Draco is never truly redeemed (usually a lust-filled obsession, with many many cognitive dissonances, which he never solves), and they are as Dramione as anything else, and some people enjoy writing them and some people reading them (or at least some of them). Also, a lot of gray areas, which can be quite delightful, thought inspiring and invigorating (and hot!).  Speaking for myself, I’d say maybe 1/20 of my favorite fics have this dynamic or something close to it. Maybe 33% are more in that gray area. It doesn’t do any harm, there’s nothing ethnically wrong about it, I never idolize that behavior. If Romione stans have problem with that, they can go away, cry and tell that Rupert Grint body pillow all their troubles, because I don’t give a damn. People don’t emulate or model their behavior or preferences from YA fanfics or smut in that sense in any significant numbers. If someone does, I am sorry to say, but you probably weren’t going to make it anyway. It’s the irl version of getting a comedy death in a video game, like if a smarter-than-average mushroom hypnotizes you and makes you walk into a bottomless pit, or something like that. Your problems are deep seated and numerous, which unless dealt with, will be triggered by just about anything. Its pure happenstance whether it will be Harlequin novels, Dramione fanfiction, urban legend your cousin told you, or whatever. This could go on, but seriously, Dramione shippers have nothing to prove or even argue with those antis. It’s just bottomless pit of resentment, what they twist into moral arguments, which they think will signify us as the worst kind of people, and they themselves as the most virtuous. Their antipathies are petty and personal concerns, in which they feel like the universe and the abominable cabal of Dramione shippers have cheated them out of all that attention, writers, fans, fics, and deference they feel entitled to. It’s natural for humans to cloak often even most pettiest and nonsensical slights and resentments into whatever moral or ethical language and arguments the society they live holds sacred. If we would be living in the 1600s, they’d be scouring the Bible for anti-Dramione arguments, and denouncing Dramione as unchristian and sinful. By their stated “moral standards”, there are a lot more “vile” and “harmful” ships out there, but they aren’t functionally bothered by them at all. So, unless really prompted, they don’t even bother to denounce them, little alone wage this never-ending crusade against them. That’s because they aren’t popular enough to trigger that envy and resentment (Hermione with basically any of the worst Death Eaters). Or they feel that they don’t compete in the same niche as their ship does (Drarry as an example). I wouldn’t be writing this, if this discourse with Antis hadn’t affected me as well. There was a time, I wanted to understand what they were about, and I read a lot of their grievances and internal discussions. While reading I couldn’t help but to be on a defense all the time. Sort of refuting and counter-arguing against their points in my mind, while reading their diatribes (I tried to start a dialog couple of times, but I was always totally ignored, which I am thankful for them in retrospect). Conditioning myself with that for long enough, I did notice that I started to feel a bit hesitant about certain tropes and Dramione fics I hadn’t before. I was thinking about Dramione like a defense attorney, excepting to be attacked from all directions. It actually took me quite long to figure this out, and how the bile of HP fandom had in subtle ways affected my sense and tastes without my really noticing.

Anonymous submitted: P.S. I wrote that previous submission, and I have to add, that I am not trying to say this is happening or pointing any fingers at anybody. There’s perfectly good reasons to not like any Dramione fic, as a Dramione shipper, in which Draco is irredeemable or evil. There’s perfectly legitimate reasons to prefer fics, which Ron is portrayed as a positive influence for Dramione. People can arrive to same conclusions or tastes from countless different routes and reasons. The negativity that the HP fandom and Romione shippers especially grace us just got to me in a way, that I wasn’t even cognizant about. It might be the case for others as well, if their own self-reflection so deems (or not).

------------------------

I agree with every point you’ve made. While it’s obviously okay to discuss why you like Dramione (or any other pairing), people also need to remember that they don’t have to justify why they ship Draco and Hermione together or prove (especially to haters as they’re not worth anyone’s time) that their OTP makes sense because even if it makes no sense whatsoever, it’s still fine to ship it as long as you can differentiate between fantasy and reality. I don’t know about you, but when I started shipping Dramione, it was like love at first sight. I didn’t think if they made sense, didn’t spend hours trying to make a list of arguments for Dramione, I just suddenly loved the idea of them together, believed they belonged together, and that was and still is enough. I don’t need to justify why I ship them, and neither does anyone.

It’s true that in most Dramione fics, Draco gets redeemed. It’s also true that most shippers prefer fics in which Draco gets a redemption arc, but we have to remember that there’s nothing wrong with enjoying fics in which Draco’s irredeemable or his relationship with Hermione is toxic. I myself read such stories from time to time. I like a good Ron bashing fic every now and then as well, and there’s nothing wrong with that either because it’s all fantasy, it’s all fiction, which, I believe, most Dramione shippers are aware of and accept. Hopefully, it won’t change, and no one will ever try to tell others what should and shouldn’t be written or what is and what’s not allowed in a Dramione fic.

- AgnMag

[nothorses]

heyy! first of all i hope you're doing well. thank you for taking the time out to read and respond to this (if you choose to). this has been bothering me for a while and i'd like your opinion on it.

i read these two articles recently - the first one is about a lesbian professor of gender studies + sexuality arguing why women should be allowed to "hate men"; the second is an interview with her about the article in which she addresses some of the negative responses she got to that article.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/why-cant-we-hate-men/2018/06/08/f1a3a8e0-6451-11e8-a69c-b944de66d9e7_story.html

https://outline.com/ttKscw

i have a lot of questions about this.

firstly, i cannot tell whether this is the sort of reductionist, radfemmy, "fuck all men" feminist you've been talking about. i understand her sentiments but i disagree with her statement, and i want to get better at identifying shallow feminism. i don't think my personal opinion is credible enough (yet) to draw any conclusions right off the bat. are there any 'tells' or signs that indicate what sort of feminism someone is speaking about (in the same way that there are certain idenitifiers of TERF ideology even when it is not explicitly mentioned)? for example, in the interview, she explicitly says "Where is discrimination? Where are men being excluded? Where are men being abused? Oh, come on." as well as her implied praise of kamala harris as 'the feminist we need in office'. are those things indicators of whether her position on feminism is credible/an appropriate portrayal of how Feminism™ should function? in short, do i take this woman entirely seriously about all this?

secondly, how do you feel about gender being a social construct, as she states? does that not contradict the very real physical dysphoria that a lot of us experience? doesn't it invalidate almost all the experiences of struggle against transphobia and cissexism, as well as our identities, by painting gender identity as 'not a big deal' or 'fake' by virtue of being a social construct? also, is gender identity not influenced by biology to some extent?

thirdly, along a similar vein, how do you feel about gender abolitionism? i don't exactly have a v specific question about this one, i just want another trans person's opinion on how that sort of society would affect them. i do not wish to be stripped of my identity, and i am opposed to gender abolitionism because of that. is this sentiment a product of some misunderstanding i have?

if you have any other thoughts at all about the articles, i'd love to hear those. thank you!

Oooh, anon, these are such good questions.

Why Can’t We Hate Men? by Suzanna Walters

Follow-Up Interview with Walters

Walters does a weird sort of dance in both articles: her argument is that “hating men” is okay and even good, but she has to completely misrepresent what “hating men” is, does, and means in order to make her point align with what she actually believes is defensible.

“Hating men” is not actually about hating men, she says; she doesn’t hate men at all, in fact. She knows they’re not the problem, but rather the systems of patriarchy in place. She knows racism and other intersections make “hating men” complicated at best, and harmful at worst. She just wants men to “lean back” and understand the power they hold; to be feminists. She thinks it’s a good thing to welcome men into feminism.

So then what the hell does “hating men” actually mean, to her? Why make that the hill to die on, if nothing in her argument has anything to do with that hill?

I don’t think she really believes any of the arguments she’s making in the first place. Walters pays lipservice to racism and intersectionality in a brief comment, then never brings it up again. Her view of feminist issues is narrow and shallow, dealing mostly with “the safety of women” and the representation of women in positions of power; both of which fail to address the structural issues of the patriarchy and how it functions, and prioritize Making Women Powerful over dismantling the systems of oppression giving people power over each other in the first place. She believes that all men are universally and inherently benefiting from the patriarchy, and that men in fact are the system to be fought.

Some of this pings as TERFy, too. Walters never really argues against radical feminism. Her argument against gender-essentialism is, as you said, that gender shouldn’t exist at all- but she claims the patriarchy discriminates based on genitalia.

You caught that as well; “where are men being oppressed/abused?” she says, after her performative gesture toward intersectionality. Walters also compares the oppression of women to racism at the same time, which... holy shit.

I’d personally peg her as a mainstream liberal feminist. She’s a successful white professor who sincerely believes that her experiences as a woman are universal. Her takes are surface-level and shallow at best, and edging dangerously close to radical feminism and quiet TERFism at worst.

TL;DR: The Author

She’s a mainstream liberal feminist who makes a string of confused, contradicting arguments because she chose to die on a hill she doesn’t really understand. Her arguments stray TERFy and racist on multiple occasions.

RE: Gender questions

What gender is and where it comes from is a complicated question, and I don’t think there’s a simple answer to it. The major arguments are that it’s social, biological, or psychological; either it comes from how you’re socialized, what your genitals look like, or it’s something built into your brain chemistry (think “wrong body” trans theory).

I personally think it’s a bit of a mix, leaning toward the social and psychological, and that where gender “comes from” is a little different for each individual. Biology has a bit to do with it; we’ve had somewhat consistent ideas "man” and “woman” across various cultures.

But what gender means in each society is different, and how people conceptualize it has been different. What gender someone feels they are may be influences by their culture’s gender expectations. Some indigenous cultures even have anywhere from two to five distinct “genders”, and I can say personally that my conceptualization of my own gender relies pretty heavily on how other people perceive and treat me.

Not to mention that trans people have existed for as long as people in general have, even in societies that lack any formal gender concept for trans folks. So psychology must play a role, too.

So if we strip away all social expectations of gender, we’re still left with psychological and biological influences on gender. Which is part of why I don’t think we can abolish gender to begin with; people will always have internal understandings of gender to some extent, and they’ll always express them, and therefore there will always be a social element to gender. We can, however, work toward abolishing restrictive, binaristic, oppressive gender structures that limit and punish expressions of gender.

And as a sidenote, the whole “gender is just a social construct, but genitals are real” and “we should abolish all concept of gender” thing is extremely TERFy. There are thoughtful and trans-inclusive ways of approaching the question, but usually we’re talking about gender as part of a system of power and oppression. Walters is using the TERF framework that their “gender critical” comes from: gender isn’t real, therefore trans people aren’t real. Patriarchy is just based on biological realities and sex, and we should abolish the idea of gender (as code for abolishing trans rights and theory).

TL;DR: Gender

I personally believe that gender is a synthesis of biological, psychological, and social influences that is highly unique to every individual. There’s no real way to “abolish” it, only systems of power and oppression that rely on and enforce it. Walters’ way of discussing it is extremely TERFy, and her arguments should be heavily scrutinized.

[bangtansbun]

Endgame || Lose You

pairing: jeongguk x f. reader

genre: angst!!! hurt/comfort

word count: 1,749

warnings: mentions of terminal illness

a/n: This is part 16. ngl, i procrastinated writing this until the very last second because i didn’t want the hurt to come. i liked living in this happy little bubble, but it must be done for the sake of plot. let me know what you think!!

You’ve never felt more anxious in your entire life. Not even when you were confessing to Guk how you felt just a little over a year ago. You have no earthly idea what could be going on. He reassured you that it was nothing you did or had nothing to do with the two of you, so that eased your mind a tiny bit, but not enough. Something was seriously wrong for him to be acting the way he was today. He’s never acted like this in the 17 years you’d known him.

You wait nervously in the living room for the front door to open because you need to see him as soon as he walks in. You don’t want wait for him to come up the stairs to your bedroom. Just seeing him would make you feel better. For some reason you had started to think you were losing him, so seeing him in front of you, physically able to reach out to him, will undoubtedly make you feel better.

He’s quick, just like he said he’d be. It only takes him 3 minutes from when he texted you for him to walk across the street to your house. He walks in with his head hanging and his eyes red from – well, you’re not sure what yet. You’re off the couch in an instant and he’s got a small smile forming on his face at the sight of you. He looks – relieved. He opens his arms and you move into them quickly. He wraps you up in a hug so tight, the scent of him enveloping you immediately, fresh and comforting, like clean linens.

“Hey, what’s been going on?” you say tenderly as you brush some of his hair out of his face. It’s clear now that the redness in his eyes is from crying. His eyes still appearing glassy, like he could start crying again any minute. “Let’s, uh, let’s go sit down, okay?” You nod at his words and he gives you a kiss on the top of your head before you’re both pulling apart to sit on the couch instead of standing in the doorway.

You both sit down and he reaches for your hands, a mournful look on his face. He lets out a shaky breath before he starts to speak. “It’s my mom. She’s sick again and it’s not good,” he says as tears threaten to roll down his cheek. “I was with her all day at her doctor’s appointment. It was rough, to say the least.” He finally looks up at you, his mouth in a thin line. “Oh, Guk. I’m so sorry. I know that doesn’t mean much, but still.” You remember the first time his mom was diagnosed with cancer, you were both in 5th grade. She went through grueling treatment for years and, ultimately, was told it went into remission, which was incredible.

You reach up to cup his face and he finally lets the tears fall. “She’s in stage four and they said the prognosis isn’t good. She doesn’t want to go through the chemo and radiation again. She said she doesn’t want to spend the rest of the time she has in a hospital day in and day out. I understand this, but what am I supposed to do, yn?” His voices is desperate when he asks you that question. His head is resting on your shoulder and his body is wracked with sobs. “You just be there for her, Guk. You give her your love. I’m sure that’s all she needs from you.” You rub his back in soothing circles as you say this.

The two of you stay like that for a little while. Just in silence, letting him cry and validating his feelings. You know that you’ll never know exactly what he must be feeling, but you know that you’ll be there for him as much as he needs. He doesn’t need a quick fix or blind optimism, what he needs from you is to just be with him, in the moment.

Eventually, he’s able to calm down a bit. You’ve brought him a cup of hot cocoa and have Netflix on in the background. He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “I’m going to have to help a lot around the house now. Like, way more than before. Even go to her appointments with her if my dad can’t.” You’re nodding in understanding. “I’m- I’m not sure how much time I’ll have for- for us?” Your heart drops the second those words come out of his mouth. Realization of what he’s talking about hitting you like a ton of bricks. You give a slow nod, “I understand if this is too much right now.” He looks like he’s going to start crying again. “But I don’t want to lose you. I love you so much and the last thing I want to do is break up with you. I’m just- it’s all so overwhelming and I want to spend as much time as I can with her. I probably won’t even play soccer this year.”

Tears are starting to well up in your eyes too. You completely understand and would never want to take away from any time left he may have with his mom. You want him to be able to do whatever he needs during this time without the worry of you being neglected as his girlfriend. However, that doesn’t mean you aren’t sad. Guk has been your whole world for as long as you can remember and even more so in the past year. You’ve never had to live in a world that didn’t include him by your side at practically all hours of the day. Even before the too of you were dating, you were inseparable. Always wanting to play together, run errands together, support each other in your hobbies and activities, studying together, everything. This would certainly be an adjustment for you, but nothing compared to the adjustment him and his family will have to make.

“Please don’t be upset,” he says to you with a worried look on his face. Your eyes are still watery but you give him a sweet smile, “I just love you, is all. I understand, I’ll just miss you. I’m not mad or anything.” He pulls you into him, “I’m not going anywhere, though. I’ll always be your friend, just across the street from you.” He’s brushing his hand through your hair as he speaks to you softly.

This feels wrong, you should be the one comforting him, not the other way around. You clear your throat, wipe your eyes, sit up, and put your best brave face on. “We’ll be okay. Best friends first, always. I want you to be able to spend as much time with her as you want, so don’t worry about me. And I’ll be here if you ever need anything, seriously. If you or your dad can’t make it for something, call me.” You can see in his eyes how grateful he is. He feels so lucky to have you in his life. Really doesn’t know what he’d do without you. You were always so supportive, willing to give to others without anything in return, it had always been in your nature. What he doesn’t know is that it was only for him. You would do practically anything for him.

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you and it feels like the end. Realistically you know this isn’t goodbye, not forever, but you know you’ll see a lot less of him, and the Guk you will see won’t be the same. This will change him – has already changed him, but regardless of any of those things, you privately vow to be by his side so long as he wants you there.

The two of you spend another hour or so watching tv and snuggling on the couch before he starts to feel guilty for even being away from his mom for that long. “I should really get going,” he says to you and you get it, you really do. Can see the worry in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll walk you to the door.” He grabs your hand has he gets up from the couch and then he holds you tightly against him as he stands in front of the door. “I love you, Gukkie,” you say to him in a soft voice, just above a whisper. “I love you too,” he says into your hair as he plants a kiss on the top of your head.

Then without looking at you again, because it would be way too hard for him, he walks out the door. You watch him walk across the street to his house as tears start to flow. Again, you know this isn’t goodbye, but it sure does feel like you won’t be seeing him again.

The rest of the night is you feeling sad for a multitude of reasons. You’re sad for your relationship because you were sure he was the one. Still pretty sure he is, and the thought of not being with him is soul crushing. But more so than anything else you’re sad for Guk because he’s going to lose his mom and possibly himself in the process.

You don’t hear from him for the rest of the night, which you expected, but it still left an emptiness inside of you. You cry yourself to the sleep that night, ignoring your parents’ attempts to get you to eat dinner or come out of your room. The sleep is awful, thoughts of what the Jeon family must be going through, running through your mind. You’re glad it’s the weekend now because you don’t think you’d be able to function at school. You can’t even imagine how Guk must be feeling if this is how it’s affecting you. You wished you could be as strong as him. You didn’t know how he did it, but he sure was an incredible son. An incredible person.

As the morning sunlight begins to creep through your curtains, you finally manage to fall into a deep sleep, no doubt from exhaustion, both physical and emotional. You’re grateful for the few hours of sleep you’re able to get, but you know that when you wake up, everything will be completely different and you’ll have to learn how to go through life in a way you’ve never had to before.

taglist: @ggukkieland​ @hecticwonderer​ @kookiepout​ @koochiekoo​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @imluckybitches​ @mybiasforsure​ @madaboutjeon​ @thequeen-kat​ @betysotelo18​ @apollukee​ @scentedsope​ @nightapple4jk​ @xtrataerrestrial​ @peachthi​ @pimpnameyannie​

[nightshade-minho]

3021:Starless

-(1)-

Warnings: Nothing much for this chapter. Scenes of mild violence. Future smut. Please view the teasers before reading this part.

Word Count: 2.9k

Hyunjin x fem! Reader, Minho x fem! Reader, Jisung x fem! Reader

A rainy summer’s day. 

Oxymoronic, yes...but what was Neos, if not a city of oxymorons? 

The larger part of the city was crammed with skyscrapers, packed atop each other. The streets were filled with rich cyborgs and their androids, chatting away on their neodisks and living their glamorous, expensive lives. 

The rain definitely wasn’t affecting them too much. Water-resistant metal plating and advanced technology made it possible for them to live their lives as usual, despite the heavy downpour.

However, things were different out here. The outskirts of the city were a lot quieter, the streets empty and deserted. There were no skyscrapers here, just sad-looking buildings and dilapidated abodes. Here, nearly everyone was made of junk and scrap metal dating back to 2032- the rain was a huge inconvenience for most.

As you walked down the street, you made sure to wrap your cloak around you tighter. You couldn’t afford any repairs at the moment. 

Though that would change soon, once you finally manage to earn your Phantom license. You smiled as you thought about the crescents you’d win with each bounty. You’d finally be able to buy a new arm...

Two fingers in your right arm had stopped working years ago- you’d made do with it till now, but being a Phantom meant that you would need your bionic arm to be fully functional, since it was your dominant one. You’d learnt to use your left hand to carry out most tasks- though it was flesh and bone, and weaker than your right, it was definitely more reliable. It never glitched out on you. 

Sometimes, you wished you were entirely human. Being one of the 98% of Xaliens who were technologically advanced definitely had its perks- but it was also expensive. You were glad for Mr. Han’s discounts. 

You continued walking, the icy cold air biting at your skin, and making you shiver. It was supposed to be summer. You sighed, humming a tune to yourself as you made your way to the shop.

Beep.

Fuck.

That sound could only mean one thing. You paused, the low beeping resonating in your head as you inhaled deeply.

1...2...3-

You swivelled around, slipping your dagger out from your waistband in the process and swinging it at the spindly-legged automaton that had been creeping up on you. As soon as the knife made contact with its large, blue eye, it started glitching, convulsing for a few seconds before dying.

Your chest heaved, eyes wide as you stared at the dead machine. Inching closer, you ripped your knife out of its metal, tucking it back into your pants as you crouched to inspect it closely. 

Your suspicions were correct. You pulled your neodisk out of your pocket, scrolling through the news. It only confirmed what you already knew. 

It was a Zenx, though it seemed to be a newer model...it looked a lot more advanced than the ones you'd seen photos of. The arrival of the mysterious, hostile androids had been all the news were filled with, recently. Nobody knew where they came from, who was controlling them or what their purpose was. The royal family had offered the people in the poorer areas of the city a generous amount of crescents if they caught the Zenx and sent them along to the palace for observation. The ones who would sign up were to be called the Phantoms.

It was the very reason you were walking down the street to the workshop, despite it being past curfew. Tomorrow, the applications to be a Phantom would have to be filled and submitted. If you wanted to be a cyber-assassin, you’d have to have two fully functioning arms.

You flipped the machine over onto its side. Unlike most androids, these weren’t humanoid. They were strangely creature-like. You took note of the numbers and symbols on its plated metal belly, mentally jotting them down. Wrenching the plate off of it, you pocketed it with a groan. Maybe Jisung could take a look at it, tell you what you needed to know.

You stood up, sighing as you turned around- only to be met with a dark figure standing right in front of you.

Your eyes narrowed, tilting your head at the hooded man and rolling your eyes.

"I know it's you, Minho."

He let out a grunt of frustration, whipping the hood of his cloak off. "Its unfair, really. You're literally scared of nothing...you sure you're a cyborg and not an android?"

"Hmm...You had your hood on. Maybe I would have been scared if you'd shown me your face."

"Har di har." Minho chuckled. "You know you like my face, baby."

You wrinkled your nose. "Don't call me that. And I don't...like your face-" You stammered a little as he came closer, nose almost brushing against yours.

"Yeah? Why are you blushing, then?"

Your eyes widened as you tried to keep your composure. "I am not blushing." You put your hands on his chest and pushed him away slightly.

He shrugged, looking past you at the upturned machine.

"Woah. Is that a Zenx?"

"Maybe."

"You killed it? Alone? Without any government issued weapons?" He asked incredulously.

You glared at him. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"It's just a little surprising, that's all." He smirks at you. "You're a bit of a badass, hm? But all I have to do to get you flustered is lean a little closer."

You frowned at him. "That's not true." 

Your watch suddenly let out a beep, and you grunted, standing up and scowling at him.

"I have somewhere to go. Leave me alone." You started walking away from him, sighing as you heard his footsteps follow you. Whipping around, you crossed your arms.

"Honestly, do you have nothing better to do? Are you stalking me or something?"

"You wish, princess. I just happen to be in the same places you are."

You pressed your lips together, rolling your eyes and turning away again, walking a little faster...but he was still right next to you, strolling along beside you as he hummed under his breath.

You stopped, making him stop as well.

"Fucking leave."

"No can do. You think I'm just going to leave you alone, especially after you just got attacked? These streets aren't safe." There was no teasing lilt to his words anymore, and his voice was firm as he looked at you. "I'm walking you to wherever you're going."

"No you're not." You said, trying to keep your tone chilly. "I can take care of myself, okay? I don't need you. I don't need anyone." You snarled.

"Calm down."

"You're lucky my middle finger isn't working." You grumbled under your breath, turning away and walking as fast as you could. 

A minute later, you looked behind you, but he was gone. You pushed down the slight disappointment in your heart, and continued on your path.

A few minutes later, you were finally there. You knocked twice on the shutter, tapping your foot impatiently.

Seconds passed by with no response. You couldn’t shout, since you were supposed to be inconspicuous. About four whole minutes passed before he finally opened the shutter.

“Finally! What the fuck, Sung? You knew I was coming at this time.”

He fiddled with his fingers, avoiding eye contact. “I know. It’s just...I feel like Dad’s getting worse. I was feeding him.”

Your glare disappeared, your expression softening. “Oh...sorry.”

Jisung looked up at you. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I just...feel guilty. I could have signed up earlier, if I hadn’t spilled coffee on my hand...I’m so fucking careless.”

“Y/n. You’re doing more than enough to help.” He met your eyes, sighing and looking away again.  “Seriously...you don’t have to do this.”

You shook your head firmly. “I will. Mr. Han’s the closest thing I’ve had to a father. I’m not prepared to lose him yet. Besides, once I become a Phantom, I’ll have more crescents than I know what to do with.”

You moved closer, slipping your hood off and brushing a hand through your hair as you gave him a soft smile. “I’ll have more than enough money to take him to the city, and get him admitted in one of the best hospitals. We can finally move out of this shitty neighborhood. I promise you.”

Jisung gave you a weak smile, watching you as you pushed past him, making your way to the reclining chair in the corner of the workshop and collapsing onto it. 

You held your hand out. “But in order to make crescents, I need to become a Phantom. And to do that, I need my hand to work right, and I need to be fully charged to pass all my tests tomorrow.”

He chuckled, rolling his sleeves up and flopping onto his chair, rolling over to you. He took your arm, turning it slightly and inspecting it closely. 

“Hmm, you really do need a new arm.” He hummed under his breath, grabbing his oculus from the table and peering through it. He held your arm with one hand, using his other to lift each of your fingers individually. 

“Hmm, okay. I think I have replacements for your fingers lying around here somewhere...” He rolled to his desk, rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a box filled with prostheses. He scoured it for a few minutes before finally pulling out the appropriate parts.

Coming back over to you, he cocked his head to the side.

“What’s wrong? You look...sad.”

He felt his heart beat a little faster as you looked at him, making eye contact with him. “I’m not sad...just a little nervous, that’s all.”

“You don’t need to be. You’re going to be great. I’ve never met someone so strong, powerful and badass as you.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve never met someone as kind and funn-”

“Can you lovebirds get a room or something?”

You looked up, laughing as you spotted Jeongin enter, his apron streaked with soot. Jisung’s cheeks turned redder than a tomato, his grip on your hand loosening a little.

“Seriously, though. Jisung, you’re supposed to be working on her, not gushing over her-”

“Hey! Remember you’re supposed to be my a-assistant!” He stuttered. “So instead of running your mouth, come over here and hand me my tools.”

Jeongin smiled, walking forward and lifting the wire up from the floor. Plugging it into the socket, he handed the other end to Jisung.

Jisung stood up, gently brushing your hair behind your ear, heart jumping in his chest as he did so. Exposing the circular socket on your head, he attached the wires to it, turning to arrange his tools as you made yourself a little more comfortable. The whirring sound combined with Jisung’s humming had a calming effect on you, your eyes slowly closing. 

Jisung watched as you fell asleep, sighing as he got to work, detaching your arm with his screwdriver as gently as he could. 

“You’re so fucking whipped.” Jeongin called, handing Jisung the prostheses.

“Shut up.” Jisung growled, adjusting the oculus attached to his eye as he unscrewed your middle finger and thumb, attaching the new ones with some difficulty. Your arm was an old make- how he wished he had the crescents to get you a new one. 

You’ve always been his...guardian angel, for lack of a better word. He wished, for once, he could be the one to protect you. Jisung admired your strength, your tenacity and determination. However...sometimes, just sometimes, he wondered why he couldn’t be the same. 

“Seriously though, Hyung...you really need to stop giving her those heart-eyes and just confess, already.”

Jisung looked up at Jeongin, frown settling on his features. “It’s not that simple.” He glanced over at you, eyes still closed as the machine charged the processor embedded in your brain. “She’s not the type to be bothered with things like romance. We’re just friends. In fact, I’m pretty sure she once said I’m like a brother to her.”

Jeongin stayed silent, not wanting to say much more. 

There wasn’t really any point in protesting really, because what Jisung said was true, more or less. Love just wasn’t on your agenda. 

Jisung shook his head at the boy’s silence, affixing your arm back to you and humming as he did so. He stole glances at your peaceful face from time to time, his heart jumping in his chest.

Maybe one day.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the light in the room. Sitting up a little, your eyes landed on Jisung, his back facing you as he worked on something at his desk. You cleared your throat, causing him to turn around and look at you.

“Ah! I didn’t realize you woke up...” He came over, unplugging you. “How are you feeling? Fingers?”

“Yeah, I feel so much more refreshed now.” You lifted up your arm, moving your fingers and making a small sound of delight. “Thank you so much.” You smiled up at him, getting up to wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. Jisung felt his heartbeat speed up, hesitating as he let his hands rest on your waist. All his senses were flooded with you...he almost forgot how to breathe for a second.

It felt too good to have you in his arms. It was scary.

When you finally pulled away, you went over to the corner to grab your cloak, fastening it around you as he felt his heart drop. He didn’t want you to leave yet.

“Hey...wait, let me walk you home.”

“Oh no, I’ll be fine, Sung. You don’t have to do that...besides Mr. Han needs you.”

“Um, Dad’s asleep. Please? Jeongin already left...and I just wanna talk. We haven’t had a proper talk in ages.”

You sighed, pausing. “Fine.”

Jisung walked alongside you as you kicked a small pebble with your foot. The subway tunnels were long abandoned, and you often came here for some peace and quiet. It was also the safest place to take a walk, considering it was after curfew.

“So...how nervous are you? For tomorrow?”

“Just...a little.”

“Don’t be. I know you’ll do great. I can come watch, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s open to the public...which is why I really don’t want to mess up. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of so many people.”

“Hmm...don’t worry, it’s going to be a piece of cake for you. I’ve seen you train, Y/n. You’ll be able to handle any challenge they throw at you.”

Suddenly, you remembered the weight in your pocket, eyes widening. “Oh wait...um. I almost forgot to show you...before I came here, I crossed paths with one of them.”

“Them? What?”

“A Zenx. I killed it.”

“Wha...what!?” Jisung spluttered, shocked at the nonchalance with which you uttered those words. You pulled out the piece of metal from your pocket, handing it to him. He stared at it with wide eyes, hands trembling a little as he took it from you, turning it over as he inspected it. 

“Y/n...this looks so different from what I’ve seen online...”

“Yeah. They seem to be getting more advanced. I wonder who’s upgrading them...”

“Hmm, it doesn’t have to be a who...but it’s possible. Y/n, you really killed it alone? That could have been dangerous.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please. You’re the one who said I was capable enough.”

“Yeah, but...” He sighed. “I’m sorry. Just a little concerned, that’s all.” He smiled at you. “Now I’m even more convinced that you’re going to be amazing tomorrow.”

You smiled, looking at the floor as you continued along the tunnel.

“So?” You gestured to the plate in Jisung’s hand.

“I left my oculus back home.” He pocketed it, “I’ll inspect it at the workshop... I’ve been reading up on the Zenx lately. Very little information....not much to go off of, but I suspect that...”

You squinted a little as Jisung went off on a tangent, gesticulating as he talked...you tuned him out. Your eyes had noticed something. You blinked, wondering if it was a trick of the light. 

Something...was lying on the tracks. Humanoid, it was panting....you stopped Jisung with your arm stretched out, staring at the body that was a short distance away from you. Jisung looked at you with a confused expression, following your gaze and gasping as he noticed it too.

“What the FUCK is that-”

“Shh!”

The figure was lying facedown, writhing a little as it struggled to get to its feet. 

You and Jisung shared a look, considering what to do. Putting a finger on your lips, you slowly approached the body, carefully trying your best to not make a sound. Jisung followed, trying his best to be quiet...but as he took another step with his heavy boot, the stones crunched beneath his feet.

The figure looked up, eyes landing right on you, who was closer to it.

Beautiful, onyx eyes..shiny hair and plump lips...you recognized it. Him.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His face twisted into an expression filled with fear and confusion. “P-please...help me...” He begged, crawling a little closer. Jisung grabbed your wrist, trying to pull you away a little, but you stayed put, eyes trained on the man in front of you, brain going into overdrive as you tried to figure out what was happening.

“I- Y/n, he’s-”

“H-hwang Hyunjin.” The man choked out, his voice glitching a little as he collapsed right in front of you, eyes closed as he fell unconscious.

H88.

[gb-fics]

Selfhood

Fanfiction:

Utahiroba Jun x Darvish Kenji (Golden Bomber)

Note: This story is Jun centric, since it’s his birthday today ^-^

Nervously Jun folded and unfolded the napkin again. It was a cheap paper napkin. The family restaurant had been Yutaka’s suggestion, probably because it was close to his apartment. Shou had agreed, probably because the food was cheap, and that had settled things.

Jun would have felt weird to insist on a fancier place. After all, he hoped they would get over with this quickly. Depending on the reaction of his bandmates, sitting with them through a three-course meal afterwards was the last thing he wanted. If worst came to worst, he wanted to be able to grab his bag and run.

“So, what did you invite us for today, Jun?”, Shou asked. It was kind of adorable how he tried to host their conversations as their band leader at times but never managed to radiate any sense of authority.

Jun shuffled on his seat and finally put down the napkin.

It was rare for them to meet outside of work and now that the tour was over, they would usually avoid seeing each other for a while. His invitation must have sparked their curiosity. Jun felt sick.

“I asked you here today, because there is something I would like to share with you”, he said and cleared his throat.

He had practiced the words out loud in front of his bathroom mirror and it had felt relieving to hear them out in the open. But he hadn’t actually told anyone yet and the nerves upset his stomach and made his mouth taste weird.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to tell them. It wasn’t like they needed to know after all. It was just Jun’s business. It didn’t have to affect the band if he just managed to suppress it harder.

“Please tell me you are not going to invest in another café”, Yutaka groaned. “It’s not going to work this time either.”

Jun gritted his teeth.

“No, of course it’s not that. I was insecure whenever to tell you at all, but we work together so closely, so I feel like you deserve to know.”

He inhaled deeply. This was why he had to tell them. Because if it came out another way, it might affect all of them. He had to start telling people somewhere, if he ever wanted to come to terms with himself, and the people he was working with the closest were a good start. It seemed like a relatively safe space to test for reactions, too, although he was still scared of what might happen.

“Just spit it out already”, Shou urged.

The only one who hadn’t spoken at all yet was Kenji sitting right next to him. He never liked to engage in the conversation if he felt that the atmosphere was tense, but his calm felt somehow supportive. Jun resisted the urge to lean into him, just because Kenji felt so stable. He was scared of Shou being troubled by the news and of Yutaka making fun of him. He wasn’t scared of Kenji’s reaction though.

“I’m gay!”, Jun burst out.

Everyone at the table seemed to exhale with relief. Jun wondered what they had expected him to say that could possibly be worse.

“Okay”, Shou said calmly. “Thanks for telling us, Jun. We appreciate the trust you put in us. Of course, we will support you.”

Jun was surprised by his mature response. It sounded exactly like the kind of thing you would want for a reaction.

“Woah, that’s big news”, Yutaka said and ran his hand through his hair, which made it stick up in all directions. “Congrats, man.”

Jun sensed his shoulders slumping down. It felt like a physical weight had been lifted off him. Deep down, he had been scared of his bandmates rejecting him. But even if he had assumed they wouldn’t be hateful, he had been sure they would be awkward about it and make the whole situation uncomfortable by not knowing what to reply. However, both Shou and Yutaka seemed slightly surprised but very much at ease and genuinely happy for him.

Hesitantly, Jun turned to Kenji.

“Oh my god, Jun!”, he said. “I can’t believe this. It’s such a surprise! I’d never have seen this coming. I’m stumped!” He was emphasizing every word like a very bad actor at a school play.

“Kenji?”, Jun asked quietly.

“You? Gay? I mean, what?!”, Kenji carried on.

Jun turned his head to look at Yutaka and Shou on the other side of the table.

“Okay, what’s going on?”, he wanted to know.

“Nothing! I’m just surprised!”, Kenji said.

Shou hung his head.

“Kenji”, he said with a quiet sigh.

“Seriously, dude”, Yutaka said aggressively. “We’ve rehearsed it so many times and this is the best you can do?”

“I’m sorry”, Kenji whined.

“Wait, you’ve …?” Jun’s stomach twisted. “You’ve rehearsed this?”

“We just wanted to get it right”, Shou said apologetic. “Make you feel supported and safe.”

Yutaka pointed his thumb at Shou.

“Yeah, he was very troubled and googled how to react to your friend coming out correctly. Obviously, ‘well, duh’ would have been a hurtful reaction.”

“What?”, Jun asked. He didn’t know what else to say. He felt weirdly ambushed and all the relief from earlier was gone. He had prepared for this moment so much and somehow his bandmates didn’t seem to treat it very seriously.

“Hey, Jun”, Shou said and put his hand on the table as if he wanted to reach out to Jun but didn’t dare to touch him without permission. “We wanted to be prepared just in case, because we really care for you. I know it took courage to tell us, even if we kind of figured.”

His voice was warm and gentle and it nearly made the tears well up in Jun’s eyes.

“So, it’s …”, Jun broke off, because his voice cracked. “It’s not a problem for you?”

“Honestly, Jun, I thought you were openly gay when I hired you”, Shou confessed and smiled awkwardly. “It never occurred as a problem to me.”

Jun nodded shyly and looked over at Yutaka.

Yutaka held up his open palms as if he wanted to defend himself.

“Don’t look at me, I also thought you were gay right away.”

Jun made a face. It felt ridiculous that he himself had needed so long to figure it out. He felt slightly upset that his bandmates supposedly knew him better than he knew himself, but then, it was sort of comforting to know they had accepted him for who he was, before he had been able to even accept himself.

“Seriously, Jun”, Kenji said. He sounded genuinely cheerful and less stressed now that he could talk openly. “I’m happy for you. You deserve to be yourself.”

Jun smiled down on the table plate.

“Thank you, guys”, he said quietly. “Thanks for only being moderately weird about it.”

“It’s still cool to make gay jokes though, right?”, Yutaka asked.

Jun rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting you to turn into a better person all of a sudden.”

“So, you won’t be bothered by us pretending to be gay on stage?”, Shou made sure and gestured among the four of them.

It made Jun smile, because it was very typical of Shou to worry about something like that. It was also like Yutaka to be rude about it, but at least he had tried. All of them were better than Jun had been willing to give them credit for.

“It won’t be any weirder than before”, Jun said and shrugged.

Shou made a troubled face. Even his cheeks wrinkled up when he did.

“And are you planning to … you know, make it public?” He was clearly uncomfortable now and obviously addressed it only, because he felt it was his duty as their bandleader.

Jun sucked on his lower lip. He had thought about it, but he hadn’t reached a conclusion yet.

“I’m not sure”, he admitted. “On the one hand, I feel like it would be great to function as a role model for fans who are struggling with their sexuality. But then, I’m not sure if it’s worth the hassle. And I’m not sure I’m ready for it yet.”

Just telling his bandmates had been scary already and he didn’t feel prepared to step out into the spotlight.

“Alright, take your time to think about it”, Shou said. “Just whatever you want to do, I promise it won’t affect your place in the band.”

Jun nodded and his eyes did get teary now.

“Thanks”, he said. Usually, the words seemed to spill from his lips even when he tried to hold them back, but today, he felt exhausted, as if the words already spoken had been so heavy, that they counted for a hundred words each.

There was a moment of silence and Jun wondered, if they were just going to order food now and eat as if nothing had happened, while to him, it felt as if he had just disarmed a potential bomb.

“On to the important things”, Yutaka said and slapped the table. “Now that you are gay, which one of us is the cutest?”

All Jun could do was roll his eyes again visibly. At least it kept him from outright crying.

“It’s not like I suddenly turned gay overnight”, he said. “Also, I don’t look at any of you that way. You’re like my brothers. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Come on, don’t be a prude! Who of us is the most handsome?”, Yutaka kept nagging.

Jun wanted to be annoyed with him, but it was oddly comforting that Yutaka had to be his regular obnoxious self. It assured him that nothing had changed and that his bandmates would not treat him differently. They might just make fun of him for different reasons now. Though, his sexual orientation had always been pretty high up on the list anyway.

“Well, obviously Kenji is the most handsome member”, Jun said. “But anyone can see that. You don’t need to ask a gay man for that.”

“He’s got a point there”, Shou agreed and nudged Yutaka in the shoulder.

“Fair enough”, Yutaka said and nodded as if the matter had been settled with that.

“You guys, stop it”, Kenji said and laughed embarrassedly. Jun had always liked that about Kenji; that he was able to accept compliments without questioning them and yet never let them get to his head.

“Don’t take it the wrong way though”, Jun mumbled and looked down.

He was scared of blushing, although he hadn’t stated anything he hadn’t said before. Everyone knew that Kenji was handsome and of course, Jun enjoyed looking at him. But he was also very aware, that it was Kenji he was looking at each time. And Kenji was too gentle and too sweet and too easy to talk to and too caring and funny and kind to ever look at him objectifying. He would never fantasize about having sex with Kenji, because whoever got to have sex with Kenji would automatically want to hold his hand as well and play with his hair when he was sleepy and make soup for him when he was sick and be there for him always. He was too good to want anything less with him.

“Of course”, Kenji said and a quick glance told Jun that he was looking over at Shou and Yutaka somewhat helplessly. Jun hoped he hadn’t made him uncomfortable.

“And that was all you asked us here for today?”, Yutaka asked loudly. “No offense, but you could have posted that in the group chat, you know.”

Jun didn’t believe he meant it, but it was just like Yutaka to complain before they had even ordered.

“If that was all, I think I’m actually going home. I’m not hungry anyway.”

Jun raised his eyebrows at Yutaka. It was him who had suggested the place after all and not being hungry seemed pretty out of character as well.

“Right”, Shou said. “I also have this thing. Very important. Can’t miss it. I better go now as well. Absolutely can’t stay for lunch.”

“I bare my soul to you and you just leave right after?”, Jun made sure.

“I’ll stay”, Kenji said hastily and finally, Jun figured what was going on.

“Oh, alright”, he agreed and watched Yutaka and Shou get up. “See you at work then.”

“I guess, I should …” Kenji gestured to the seats opposite to them.

“Yeah”, Jun agreed. “Sure.”

Kenji got up and sat down at the other side of the table where Shou had sat before. He took up the menu and stared down on it, as if he had really just stayed to eat something.

Jun took the chance to study his face. Kenji’s dark hair was tied up in a bun and his features were very sharp and even. Up close you could see the small lines on his face, that were the only sign betraying his age at all. They didn’t make him look worn though, just added to his overall appeal.

Jun had always been attracted to handsome men, but Kenji had never fallen into that category for him. People like Jun Matsumoto were almost fairytale like creatures to him, that existed in an entirely different realm where they didn’t notice common people like himself. But Kenji had always been very real to him. He had wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and he had a smell - of aftershave in the morning and of face paint during shootings and of sweat right after their concerts. And he had a very loud laughter and he felt warm when Jun wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and his fingertips were usually calloused. And his presence never made Jun nervous but always calmed him down.

“Listen, Jun”, Kenji said and finally put down the menu. “I’m sorry about my reaction just now. I didn’t mean to be rude or to ruin the moment. You know I’m not very good with stressful situations.”

Jun thought that it was surprisingly considerate of Shou and Yutaka to leave just so Kenji could apologize.

“Why were you stressed, though?”, Jun asked, suddenly worried that his outing had made Kenji uncomfortable, because against all odds, he was bothered by Jun’s sexuality.

“I just wanted to get it right”, Kenji said. “I know this was hard for you, so I wanted to be as supportive as possible. And Shou and Yutaka told me over and over again to act surprised, so it would be your moment and your time to let us know, you know?”

Jun smirked and nodded. He was pretty sure that they hadn’t come up with that themselves. It sounded like advice Shou had most likely found on the internet.

“I really appreciate how much thought you guys put into it”, he said. “I do feel supported by you. It went over a lot better than I anticipated.”

He wouldn’t have admitted that in front of Shou and Yutaka, but with Kenji, it was easy to say it out loud. Jun had always felt the closest to him.

“Yutaka is probably mad at me, though”, Kenji said. “He really did make me practice.”

Jun chuckled. The idea of his bandmates rehearsing his coming out in a roleplay was pretty hilarious once he stopped to think about it.

“I thought it was a stupid idea to act surprised, though”, Kenji carried on. “It’s just, that I wouldn’t have been surprised regardless of who came out to me.”

Jun studied Kenji’s face closely. It was indeed hard to imagine him being scandalized by a coming out or judging another person based on their preference in a partner. Kenji wasn’t a very judgemental person.

“I never viewed sexuality as something so rigid”, Kenji explained. “You just happen to like someone, but it’s always because you get along well with them. And sometimes you get along well with women and sometimes with men, and maybe you only ever met women you liked and some day you meet one man and that’s okay too. I just always felt like there are more relevant criteria for liking someone than their gender.”

Slowly, Jun nodded. He couldn’t help wonder, if Kenji just viewed other people like that and it didn’t matter to him whom his friends dated, or if it was how he himself felt. He didn’t dare to ask though, if Kenji himself had ever happened to like another man before or if he was at least open to the possibility.

“That sounds nice”, Jun said and he really meant it. It was comforting to know that in Kenji’s eyes, you could always change and evolve without becoming invalid.

“How did you realize you’re …?” Kenji broke off. “I mean, what made you decide to tell us now? I don’t know how to put this.”

“Well, I didn’t wake up one morning and knew I was gay. It was more of a gradual process. And I just came to accept it now. I thought it would be good to tell you while there are no tour dates coming up and we could avoid each other in case things got ugly.”

“You should have known no one was going to judge you”, Kenji said softly.

“It’s hard to shake the fear anyway. Not so much of being insulted and kicked out of the band, but of you guys viewing me differently. Like, maybe you’ll feel uncomfortable getting naked in front of me from now on or something. I was scared of things changing. I still am.”

Once again, Jun realized how easy it was to confine in Kenji. He trusted him like no one else.

“I can assure you, there is absolutely nothing that could make me uncomfortable getting naked in front of anyone”, Kenji declared with such passion, that Jun couldn’t help snorting with laughter. He believed him though.

“Thanks, Kenji”, he said. He was still astonished by how life just went on and neither him nor his bandmates seemed to have changed.

“So, there is no one?”, Kenji asked and for the first time did he sound hesitant.

It took Jun a moment to understand the question.

“You mean, someone to cause my gay awakening? Some guy that swept me off my feet? No, nothing like that. It was more of an internal process. I’m not seeing anyone, in case you think that’s why I told you now. There have been crushes of course, that make a whole lot more sense in hindsight, now that I can see them for what they really were. And meetings with one guy, that looking back must have been dates without me being able to admit it. But nothing serious. I wasn’t ready for it yet.”

“And now?”, Kenji wanted to know.

Jun shrugged. The conversation was starting to make him queasy.

“Of course, I want to date. Or really just …” Jun wondered if it was okay to speak explicitly, but then, it was just Kenji. “Or just make out with a hot guy now that I can admit that’s what I want. But I’ve never been the most social person and I don’t see myself going out to gay bars to find someone to hook up with. For me, the most important thing is openly living as myself from now on. We’ll see what else happens.”

“You know, I’m widely considered to be a hot guy”, Kenji pointed out and laughed. Even when his laughter was so clearly embarrassed, it was still loud. “I know, you said we’re like brothers to you. But if you ever change your mind and want to gather some experience, then I’d be here for it.”

“That’s a very generous offer”, Jun said and tried to sound sarcastic in case Kenji was joking, but not too sarcastic in case he was just trying to be nice. “A little weird though. I don’t need a pity make-out session.”

“I didn’t mean it like that”, Kenji said gently. “But I told you, to me it only matters that you like a person. And I’ve always really liked you, Junjun. I just thought you should know.”

“Oh, okay”, Jun mumbled. He had no idea what that was supposed to mean. He wished Kenji would have been clearer. Was that meant as a confession? Or did it just mean that Kenji wasn’t physically appalled by him? The idea that Kenji might actually be in love with him seemed so absurd, that Jun assumed he just took being friendly to someone he cared about a little too far.

“So, if you ever want to spend the night, you can give me a call”, Kenji clarified and Jun thought that the offer sounded very casual indeed.

He cleared his throat.

“I don’t think that would work”, he said apologetic. “You’re just not the type of guy you call for the night.”

Kenji looked down on himself and for a moment, it seemed almost comical as if he was checking if he was suddenly caught in a less attractive body.

“It’s pretty much what people do, though”, Kenji said and briefly, Jun saw the insecurity in his eyes. He saw the genuine confusion what anyone could want with him otherwise, and the hurt that came from always being a fairytale creature to people and never real.

“You’re the type of guy you invite for dinner”, Jun clarified. “The type of guy you rent movies with and whom you make breakfast in the morning. The type of guy you take to meet your parents and whom you give keys to your apartment. You’re the type of guy where you do everything to get it right if you are lucky enough to have a chance.”

He hadn’t meant to say all that, to give away that much of how he felt. But the thought of anyone treating Kenji any different made him furious.

Kenji didn’t look taken aback though. His sharp features looked very soft all of a sudden and his eyes shone wetly. Kenji’s emotional face was as open and honest as his happy expression.

He put his hand onto the table between them with his palm up. Jun studied his hand for a moment, before he carefully reached out to put his own into it. Just a few months ago, he wouldn’t have dared to do something like that in a public space. But he had come here today to finally be open about who he was and what he wanted. And it felt freeing, but it was more than that. He had never dared to believe that if he just accepted himself, he could one day be this happy.

“Alright”, Kenji said softly. “How about we start with dinner then?”

His fingertips still felt slightly calloused, and very real.