#i say we and not them because they’re already plenty weird

[sugarcarnation]

ranpoe is cute and all but i feel we need to get weirder with it

[lycandrophile]

i clicked on the original tweet just to see if anyone else felt as weird about it as i did because at this point i’m just tired of seeing people going on and on about trans men dating cishet men who try to convince them not to transition as if it’s a funny joke about a trans man doing something silly and not a manipulative and generally very unhealthy relationship dynamic that can hurt the trans man involved really deeply (as forcing someone back into the closet tends to do.)

did i find anyone else feeling that way? no. there were a few people pointing out that it was weird in general, and plenty saying it’s a weird thing to say about a cis woman, but nothing expressing any sort of concern about the tired stereotype it’s perpetuating.

but you know what i did find? replies like the one in the second screenshot, using the tweet as their chance to tell the world how much they hate trans men and how repulsive they find the idea of ever being compared to us. and replies like the third one, shaming trans men in relationships like that as if the fact that they’ve found themselves in an unhealthy relationship makes them deserving of public shaming, as if their relationship is hurting anyone other than them.

stereotypes like this just feel like yet another way of indirectly calling us stupid little girls who don’t know what’s good for us, and the fact that a picture of a woman is being used (even jokingly!) as an example of what trans men “like that” look like should make the implications of rhetoric like this all the more obvious.

it’s relationships like these that keep us miserable in the closet for so long and drive up our sexual assault rates even more. they’re not funny and if anyone is going to be making jokes about them, it certainly shouldn’t be people who have never been in that situation. if you actually cared about us you’d be looking for ways to support the trans men you know who are in relationships like that instead of hopping on twitter to joke about how stupid they must be.

i don’t care if it’s a joke. if it victim blames trans men for the transphobia we face in our personal relationships, adds to the common idea that we can’t be trusted to make decisions about our own lives, and invites even more blatant transphobia against us by people who unabashedly admit they see all trans men as “disgusting and phony”, it’s not fucking funny.

(i also want to note that the people making these jokes never like to mention that this also happens to trans men in relationships with queer women. they also hate those trans men, of course, and are happy to express that when they get into fights about trans men who date lesbians, but they’ll never talk about it in the context of this particular stereotype. it’s always a man being manipulative in a relationship and pressuring trans men to not transition, as if a woman would never be capable of such a thing.

they also like to conveniently ignore the existence of older trans men who transitioned after already being in a committed relationship with a cishet man and were able to make that relationship work despite their transition, because acknowledging that would require recognizing that trans men can be in seemingly contradictory relationships and genuinely be happy with their partner. who needs nuance when you can simply choose to judge all trans men for our relationships regardless of what they’re actually like?)

do you think they also would call me “a trans man being purposefully misgendered” with this kind of vitriol because i’m still living with parents who don’t recognize my gender instead of moving out before i’m ready to be financially independent? at this point, i’m starting to feel like they might, with the way every decision a trans man ever makes is the subject of a public debate and people have decided that trans men are secretly using being misgendered as a weapon to somehow hurt other trans people.

as a general rule, i’d say the only people who should be making “X looks like a trans man” jokes about literally anyone/anything are trans men, and posts like this show exactly why those jokes being made by anyone else (even by other trans people) just isn’t a good idea.

[alphajocklover]

AirBoyfriendNBoyfriend

**based off an ask I accidentally deleted, but had already written a story for. I don't remember the exact words, but I'll do my best to paraphrase. Was written with the help of my friend, editor and beta reader, @innermostthoughtsartappreciation **

'My 2 straight friends and I are going on vacation together. We went to our AirBnB but things have been weird since we got here. One of my friends seems more muscular than usual? He was already pretty tall but not he's really built. And last night I swear I heard my friends talking about sex in the other room or something? And this morning I woke up with a ring on my finger? Whats happening?'

You say this all started because you and your two friends went to an Airbnb? And you woke up with a ring on your finger?

In this case, what's happening isn’t some sort of elaborate conspiracy conducted by a shadowy cabal, nor is it some nefarious scheme by one of your friends/enemies to transform you to their liking, nor is it anything else of that sort. What happened here is very simple: you guys used the wrong AirBnB.

No doubt you all know that I’ve talked about EB Jewelry before. You know the jewelry company that transforms people using their products. They’re one of, if not, the biggest name in the transformation business. Still, there are plenty of other companies out there that use transformation devices and items. Most are much smaller than EB Jewelry and try to fly under the radar when it comes to being able to transform people, but they are still out there. Including the very AirBnB that you and your friends signed up for. Air-Boyfriend-and-Boyfriend. Usually only referred to as simply AirBFnBF by those who use it, they’re often mistaken for AirBnB. You probably think they should be sued for copyright infringement, but you are entirely wrong. It is shockingly near impossible to sue a company that uses magic, and not as shockingly completely not worth the hassle and complications it would cause. For a $70 billion company like the real AirBnB to sue.

Despite their similar-sounding names and acronyms, the two companies do wildly different things and cater to a rather starkly different clientele. Airbnb lets you rent different houses for short periods and market themselves for all people to use, while AirBFnBF lets you rent out different relationships for however you wish to be in them, and usually exclusively caters their services to gay men.

Here's how it works. Just like with Airbnb, you go into the app or on their website and you choose the place you want to stay at during the duration of your trip from the list of vacant places. Unlike AirBnB however, you also get to choose the people you want to become during your trip. You can customize whoever each party member becomes, and your relationship to and with each other. It’s a way for groups of people, though usually a couple, to try out different fantasies and sexual scenarios together.

What I believe must have happened was that one of your friends earnestly mistook the AirBFnBF app for the AirBnB app, and skipped the relationship settings page entirely because he didn’t understand what it was for what it was supposed to mean. Therefore, if he did do that, the app would have gone to a random fixed preset, which there aren’t a lot of for a group of three men.

I have a friend who works for AirBFnBF, and they told me you guys have probably been randomly assigned their most popular thresome preset: A Newlywed Throuple: consisting of a Hunk, a Muscle Daddy, and a Twunk. I know it sounds strangely specific, but you’d be surprised by just how many people love to use this one Throuple in particular.

You’re going to be in for a lot of surprises during these next two weeks. Including a new body, new memories, and a ludicrous amount of hot & steamy sex with your two new husbands. None of you will remember your true- selves until the two-week vacation rental is over. So until then, enjoy yourself!

That's what you’re supposed to do on a honeymoon after all. Your friends will probably be very confused when these two weeks are over. However, on the off chance they or you all enjoy being big gay hunks and having tons of hot & steamy sex with you or together, there is a permanent settlement option you can invoke. It cost a small fortune, but with how happy, hot, and horny the three of you are all acting together now, I'd bet anything you guys will make your money back in no time

[ender1821]

shinyduo/gempearl post-SL is sooo funny because before SL they were the typical "friends who like to do pranks with and against each other, partners in crime, really adorable sometimes" and then SL happened and they became OBSESSED with each other (really obvious from pearl's side since gem was more subtle) and innuendos started to appear left and right. now after WL they are not only obsessed they are also 10x times freakier and flirty. it's gem's fault a lot of the time but pearl enables it and digs herself into a deeper hole so she gets a wack too.

i am pleading to the sky for the fated shiny duo alliance to happen this year because 1) i am sure gem's possessiveness would get multiplied by 20 even if she tried to not show it and that'd be really fun + pearl would like it 2) their dynamic is so complex that they could be anything (codependent or healthy or possessive or die for each other or kill for each other or-) and 3) the aftermath of them teaming would be funny asf and the streams would be horrendous

thank you for coming to my ted talk 🙏

the freakier being in bold and italic is really getting to me for some reason lmao. anyway

you are right in the shift of them pre and post-SL, like, they are STILL giving cute partners in crime but also they’re. so. abnormal about each other??? thats not to say they weren’t flirty/making innuendos before the life series but god did all of that get worse after. also, it has kinda been shown how Gem is the one saying most of the questionable things, but Pearl definitely contributes a lot as well. lets not forget the pickles

of course we’re all manifesting for them to properly team up. its not even subtle at this point they both know that. the only things stopping it from happening really are luck and Gem’s homophobia (/j) cough. i mean. they would definitely get time to resolve what they failed to address back in WL if they’re allied together and can have time to talk. it could also make things worse but we’ll be seated either way. and then we’ll be questioning our existence again when the streams inevitably come

BUT. imo the alliance i really want is them + any other player. yep. i want a third wheel. it can literally be any other player because i think having someone else to affect/witness their dynamic is always entertaining, allows for exploration of new potentially fun dynamics between Pearl/Gem and another player while still offering plenty of opportunity for them to be. weird (/aff), and generally just gives the team a new spin instead of just Murder Camel 2.0. like. i’ve put way too much thought into this so there’s a whole ramble under cut about some of the potential trios and why i think they could be cool for a new life series

Jimmy: originally my life series s6 team predictions was pearl/gem/jimmy </3 mainly out of wanting more pearl + jimmy interactions, but i think having gem there helps just keep the team together. i thought they would be a nice team for jimmy in terms of support (think the SL scene where jimmy finds out he’s not the first out and they’re the ones there cheering him on) but well. thankfully we still had bamboozlers… anyway gem’s ego will get even worse if she had this team, and don’t we all wanna see that

Lizzie: PLEASE. impossible minecraft sent me to the point of no return because now i’m BEGGING for more pearl/gem/lizzie interactions. please. the girlies. we just need more gem + lizzie interactions in the life series imo, and we’ve already seen what happens when pearl + lizzie are together. i can’t tell you for sure if i think any betrayal will happen in this team but it would be really funny if there was, mainly just so lizzie and gem can bicker while pearl is just. There like a sad puppy. it’s cool if there isn’t though, i can see them thriving straight to the finale. cmon. think of the yuri

Ren: hey. hey. remember that one ren stream? you know the one. the wedding. do you see where i’m getting at. do you see the dynamic. it’s so funny to me ok. and we haven’t even mentioned the times where ren has mixed them up. i think it would be a horrible time for him to have to deal with these two and that’s so entertaining. if i picked jimmy because i thought he would have a nice time then for ren it’s for the complete opposite reason. make him suffer with these weirdos

Martyn: HE is the one who’s going to make them suffer. HE will be the one to make it worse. and it will be hilarious. let the man get some form of revenge for them terrorising him back in SL. they’re going to be insufferable and it’s going to be great. you might as well start the “hump duo” counter now …also i may just have a personal preference of wanting to see more pearl + martyn and gem + martyn interactions

Cleo: i mean. cmon. this one doesn’t need that much explanation. the people want a pearl/gem/cleo team

Impulse: same as cleo— SOUP GROUP ASSEMBLE!!!

Etho: pearl + etho interactions are great. gem + etho interactions are great. boom. gem gets to bully them both, then they either make a really successful trap or perform the greatest fumble ever! i see nothing but wins here

BigB: nosy neighbours… what if we tried again… plus i’m pretty sure there was a temporary gem + bigb team in RL, so why not give them a whole season. i think it would be fun. it’d be interesting to see how this team shifts with bigb’s general play style in the life series. i wonder how the base(s?) would turn out

Mumbo: listen to me. they have the funniest opportunity here to fluster this man to the high heavens. think about SL ep 5. think about it

Scar: so like. remember that 2v1? yeah. crazy, right? no but okay i don’t think if they teamed up there would be that much more emphasis on the 2v1 after all that in WL, but there WOULD be good times. i know this deep in my heart. the pearl/gem/scar interactions would go crazy. i hope they go on a hunting spree

Joel: i think this one is the least likely (on account of the fact that pearl has teamed with him in SL, and then gem doing the same in WL) but there could be beautiful world where pearl and joel build an even bigger and better car and gem just watches and sighs

Scott: insert manic laughter here. Pearlescentmoon you are about to have the worst time of your life ever

[brie-is-cheesy]

Obey me incorrect quotes #3

part 1 | previous | next | part 5 | part 6

masterlist

Lucifer: You need to stop this reckless behavior.

MC: smirking Or what?

Lucifer: Or I’ll make you do paperwork with me.

MC: …You’re evil.

Mammon: Why do you always call me out, huh?

MC: Because I’m contractually obligated to bully you.

Mammon: pouting That’s not true.

MC: pulls out document It’s in the fine print.

Leviathan: Why are you in my room?

MC: You left your door open.

Leviathan: That doesn’t mean you can just walk in!

MC: That’s exactly what it means.

Asmo: How do I look?

MC: Stunning as always.

Asmo: Ugh, you’re too kind. Now tell me again, but slower.

Beelzebub: MC, are you okay? You’ve barely touched your food.

MC: I’ve eaten plenty, Beel.

Beelzebub: I don’t understand those words in that order.

Belphie: Wake me up at 6.

MC: wakes him at 6

Belphie: groggily Why are you like this?

Diavolo: Let’s try something new you humans do today, MC!

MC: Like what?

Diavolo: Cliff diving!

MC: …Are you getting these from the internet?

Diavolo: closes his D.D.D. slowly

Barbatos: I’ve already prepared the tea, MC.

MC: I didn’t even ask for tea.

Barbatos: I anticipated your needs.

Simeon: reading peacefully

MC: staring

Simeon: Is something wrong?

MC: No, I just like watching you be perfect.

Solomon: Don’t touch that. It’s extremely volatile.

MC: immediately touches it

Solomon: Why are you like this?

Lucifer: The house needs to be quiet after 10 PM.

MC: Define “quiet.”

Lucifer: …

Mammon: They’re gonna scream at Mario Kart with Levi again, aren’t they?

Mammon: You humans have weird sayings.

MC: Like what?

Mammon: “Kill two birds with one stone.” Why not just leave the birds alone?!

Leviathan: teaching MC a game Okay, use this move now!

MC: presses wrong button

Leviathan: yelling Nooooooo! That was the self-destruct!

MC: Oops.

Lucifer: You look like you’ve been up to no good.

MC: I look like this all the time.

Lucifer: suspicious squint Exactly.

Asmo: I just posted our selfie!

MC: Did you use a filter?

Asmo: Of course! I have an image to maintain.

MC: …I look like a hologram.

Beelzebub: Do you want my fries?

MC: No, it’s okay—

Beelzebub: already eating them Too late.

Belphie: laying his head on MC’s lap Wake me up if Lucifer comes.

MC: Why?

Belphie: So I can pretend I’m studying.

Diavolo: MC, do you trust me?

MC: hesitant Why do you ask like that?

Diavolo: No reason. Just hold this enchanted rope.

Barbatos: The future is always in motion, MC.

MC: Can you see my future?

Barbatos: sips tea Yes.

MC: …Do I live long?

Barbatos: That depends on whether or not you keep annoying Lucifer.

Simeon: Would you like to join me for a walk?

MC: Sure! Where are we going?

Simeon: Anywhere the light guides us.

Beel: …Does the light guide us to food?

Solomon: offering MC a potion This one’s totally safe.

MC: You said that last time, and I couldn’t stop hiccuping rainbows for a week.

Solomon: But wasn’t it fun?

[bitchinbarzal]

Home but not Whole | Just Fine AU

Kess had been playing Uno with Elodie for over an hour.

Weston was curled up on the couch beside him, dozing off with a sippy cup and Lucky snoring at his feet.

At first, it had been easy. Normal.

He’d babysat for the Kellers plenty of times before.

Elodie had bossed him around like usual, forced him to eat two pretend plastic muffins, and tried to convince him she could stay up until midnight because it was a “special day.”

But as the hours stretched on, something shifted.

Elodie started glancing at the door every few minutes.

Started looking at the clock and chewing her thumbnail.

Finally, she asked the question Kess had been dreading.

“Why aren’t Mommy and Daddy back yet?”

He tried to keep his voice light. “Sometimes babies take a long time, Bug. I’m sure they’re just being careful.”

Elodie furrowed her brows. “But last time, Daddy sent a picture from the hospital. And this time he didn’t.”

Kess swallowed. “Well… maybe they’re just really busy. Doctors and stuff.”

“Can we call them?”

The question was so soft. So hopeful. Her hand was already reaching for the iPad.

Kess gently moved it aside.

“Not right now, kiddo.”

“Why not?”

He didn’t have an answer.

Clayton hadn’t texted. Not once since they left that morning.

Kess wasn’t panicking. Not really. But his gut had started twisting about an hour ago, and now he was just… waiting. Praying nothing was wrong.

Elodie’s face scrunched. “Something’s weird.”

Kess crouched beside her, resting a hand on her back. “I think your mom and dad are just taking their time. Maybe the baby needed a little extra help.”

“Is my baby okay?” she asked quickly.

He froze.

Elodie’s eyes were wide, suddenly watery. “She’s okay, right? Daddy said she was gonna come today.”

Kess exhaled through his nose and did the only thing he could — he pulled her into his chest and hugged her tight.

“I don’t know yet, Bug,” he whispered, heart breaking at the way her little hands clung to his hoodie. “But I do know your mommy and daddy love you so, so much. And when they can, they’ll call.”

She didn’t respond.

Just stayed pressed against him, quiet.

Weston stirred beside them, blinking blearily before reaching for Elodie.

Kess gathered them both up, one arm around each of them, and they sat there—cocooned in soft blankets, in the not-knowing, in the quiet.

And when his phone finally buzzed hours later, it wasn’t from Clayton or Kaia.

It was from one of the other guys.

Just a short message.

Tell the kids their parents will be home in the morning. Don’t say anything else yet. Just keep them safe.

And Kess nodded to no one.

He could do that.

He could keep them safe, for now.

Even if everything else was about to fall apart.

The sun was barely up when Kess heard the car pull into the driveway.

He looked up from where he sat on the couch — Weston in his lap, drooling on his shoulder, and Elodie curled into the other end of the couch, staring out the window like she had willed that sound into existence.

She sat up instantly.

“That’s them.”

Kess didn’t say anything. Just gently helped Weston slide down and watched as Elodie ran to the door, barefoot and still wearing the oversized jersey Kaia had let her sleep in last night.

She opened the front door before they even knocked.

And stopped.

Because there were no balloons.

No pink blanket.

No car seat.

Just her parents — quiet, tired, and holding each other’s hands so tightly it looked like it hurt.

Kaia dropped to her knees the second she saw her.

“Hi, baby,” she whispered, voice already breaking.

Elodie ran into her arms, throwing herself against her chest like she’d been holding it in for days. “Where were you? Why didn’t you call? Is the baby okay?”

Kaia held her tightly, face buried in Elodie’s hair, and Clayton dropped down beside them, arms wrapping around both of them like he needed the contact to breathe.

“Bug,” he said softly, “we need to talk.”

It was quiet. Not dramatic. Not loud.

But Elodie knew.

She pulled back just enough to look up at them, eyes wide and wet.

“…Is she not coming home?”

Kaia shook her head slowly.

“She couldn’t stay, sweetheart.”

Elodie’s lip trembled. “But she was moving. I felt her. She kicked my hand.”

“I know,” Kaia whispered, tears spilling freely now. “We felt her too. She was perfect. She just… wasn’t ready for the world.”

Elodie folded into her again, sobbing. “I wanted to read to her.”

Clayton held them both, face in Kaia’s shoulder, letting himself cry too.

Behind them, Kess quietly picked up Weston and slipped back to the kitchen, giving them space. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door.

It was Doaner, with a paper bag of groceries.

Logan, holding coffee and a bag of Elodie’s favorite muffins.

Dylan, who didn’t say a word — just came in and cleaned the sink full of dishes.

No one made a big deal about it.

No one tried to offer the right words.

They just came.

They filled the fridge. They folded the laundry.

One of them walked Lucky.

Another quietly set up a food train in the group chat.

Later that morning, Kess sat on the floor with Elodie, Weston in his lap again, while Kaia and Clayton curled up on the couch behind them — exhausted, grieving, but home.

“Is Hallie still my sister?” Elodie whispered.

“Always,” Kess said gently.

She nodded. “Okay. Then I still have two little siblings. Even if one’s up in the clouds.”

And Kaia, hearing it from the couch, just closed her eyes and let herself cry again. Because even in heartbreak, their daughter never stopped making space for love

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I saw this one post tagged under Aang deserved better and Katara deserved better. As someone who loves both characters. I hate how people mischaracterize them while saying they supposedly deserved better, when really they’re just salty about shipping when it comes down to it.

Here’s the post:

https://www.tumblr.com/empressofthesunslittlecorner/748486832898048000/a-rant-about-aang-and-byrke?source=share

"What does a 14-year-old want with a 12-year-old?" Same thing a 16-year-old wants with a 14-year-old, aka maybe a romantic relationship, maybe just a hook up, maybe just friendship, maybe nothing at all. You can't put people in a box like that. When I was 14 I wouldn't have cared if the person who had a crush on me was too years younger, two years older, or the exact same, all that would matter would be "Do I like them back or not?" Plenty of girls my age were the same, others would be caught dead with someone younger, and others thought that it was weird to date anyone older.

"It's just creepy, no matter the gender" *proceeds to ship Zutara, that has the same age gap, but the guy is older*

"It would have been better if they got together at like 22 and 20" Why? It's a two year agep gap, not twenty - why age them up to adulthood? 12-years-old is right around the time most people either start having crushes, or already have been having crushes for a while, it's not weird. And again, why it Zutara acceptable with Karata being fourteen, but Aang needs to be at least twenty for it to not be creepy, even though the only thing that changed was the gender of the younger character?

"I haven't read the comics" good for you, don't do it, they're terrible, every character was ruined and Yang should be as hated by the fandom as Shyamalan.

"But what I saw on tumblr" Ah yes, because you can always trust that people online are not biased, mistaken, or full on lying. Just ask the leader writer, Aaron Ehasz, about all the times he had to say "No, zutara was never going to be a thing, please stop sharing that fake interview in which people claim I said otherwise"

"Legend of Korra" Korra is also terrible, that's why the audience for it got so bad that Nick just dumped the final season online without a care.

"He kissed her TWICE, TWICE, without her consent and never said sorry for this" Nope, it was ONE poorly timed kiss that he immediately felt sorry for. Katara is seen blushing and thinking on that kiss during The Invasion because she enjoyed that kiss.

"He thinks he deserves her love because he is the Avatar (the hero) and that's how it be" He thinks the girl that got offended when he said he didn't want to kiss her, that has flirted with constantly, and has consensually kissed twice already is at the very least a potential girlfriend. When he is made to question if that's really the case, he full on ASKS HER if she only thinks of him as a brother and he simply misinterpreted her signs, to which she openly says THAT WAS NOT THE CASE. He explicitly mentions "After we kissed, I thought that meant we were together." He never, ever, ever said "I'm the Avatar, therefore you have to like me." Just because AN ACTOR in a play about THE AVATAR called her "the Avatar's girl" instead of "Aang's girl" doesn't mean he thinks his role means more than her feelings - again, he literally went to talk with her to clear things out. This is not how an entitled person behaves.

"He replaced the love for his people with Katara" No, he did not. The Guru explicitly said "Your love for them lives on the form of new love." When he saw Gyatso's dead body, Katara saying she and Sokka were his new family was what made Aang calm down. Yes, Aang is in love with her, but that moment was much more about general, familial love than romantic love. Honoring the people you lost by valluing your connection to the ones that are still in your life is not placing a burden on them, or being obsessed with them, or thinking that being loved by them will fix your trauma.

"He needed to let go of her" He did. Twice. First in Ba Sing Se, which led to him being killed and KATARA bringing back to life, then again in "The Awakening", in which he just up and leaves to focus on his mission and Katara is heartbroken because SHE DOES NOT WANT TO BE LET GO OF!

"Aang could still love Katara, he just needed to stop to put her on a pestal!" He never put her on a pedestal. He knew she was flawed and would openly disagree and even argue with her at times. Cherishing someone is not the same as idealizing them.

"Book three was... bad, and so was the finale" No, it wasn't. It had it's issues and it is the weakest season, but it is still good. Most of the problems were caused by poor pacing due to them sticking to three seasons instead of four. Aang's feelings for Katara were not a problem to be fixed, because the "entitlement" you complain about doesn't exist.

"Aang is a self-insert of Bryke" Bryan and Mike have repeatedly said that they're like Aang AND ZUKO, in the sense that one is goofy and the other is grumpy. By that logic, Zuko is also a self-insert, therefore shipping him with Katara would also be "bad."

"They act like Zuko is a bad boy instead of a dork" Zuko is a dork with social anxiety, who spent two and half seasons SUPPORTING GENOCIDE. "Bad boy" doesn't even BEGIN to describe him.

"No normal 14-year-old girl would date a 12-year-old and if she did call the police on her ass!" Go touch grass, you're insane, two children having feelings for each other is not pedophilia.

"Avatar was only amazing because of writers like Aaron Ehasz" Ehasz himself disagrees with you, and a lot of the "good changes" you made were decided by/along with Bryke.

"A lot of writer wanted also Zutara to happen and not Kataang" Ah, I see you DID read that fake interview. The writers were all on board with Kataang, even though some of them did like Zutara AS WELL. They're not mutually exclusive, you know?

"If I remember right season 3 was so rushed and lacking because the movie-who-shall-not-be-named was in production" You're remembering made up bullshit just right. Fans keep repeating that, and even I once wrongfully believed that in the past, but it's not true. The movie was going to happen regardless of when the show ended, and Bryke genuinely only wanted three seasons instead of four. Bad idea? Yes, but nothing to do with Shyamalan.

"Aang would find other airbenders" If that's true, I'm glad it was scrapped, THE LAST AIRBENDER needs to be THE LAST AIRBENDER for the show's premise and name to make any sense. Korra was also heavily criticized for a later seasons plot point of random people just magically becoming airbenders because it cheapens the gravity of the genocide by going "Lol, fooled ya! They're still running around!"

"Broodmare to repopulate" Three children is not exactly repopulating a nation, you should have paid more attention in math class.

"I'm a big fan of the theoretical season four" You being a fan of a thing that doesn't exist is surely on brand for a zutarian.

"Also, people who make fun of their own fans because they ship a pairing themselves not like are the worst!" Scream the zutarian that is doing exactly that. If you can complain about ships and call people creeps for it, you can take people pointing out your ship is just a figment of your imagination. Either suck it up or change your behavior so you're no longer a hypocrite.

[4xbfdi]

hello!!! ive created a little story based on my algebralien bunny au!

The sun was just beginning to rise over the rolling hills of the Equation Playground. Dew sparkled on the soft grass, and the air filled with birds chirping a gentle morning melody. In the middle of the meadow, near a cozy shared burrow, stood Four and X, who was eagerly waiting for a new arrival.

“I can’t believe Two’s finally moving into the Equation Playground!” X exclaimed, his ears twitching with excitement as he leaned against Four, their paws lightly touching. “It’s going to be so fun having them nearby! Aren’t you excited?”

Four groaned, his nose twitching. “Excited? That’s not really the word I’d use. Do they really have to move in next to us?”

“Fouurr… come on! Two will be a great neighbor! Besides, you two are already friends, right?”

Four narrowed his eyes. “If by ‘friends’ you mean ‘they constantly annoy me’ then sure, friends.” He huffed, folding his arms. “I don’t get what your deal is with Two. You always act like they’re the best.”

X giggled. “They’re nice! Maybe you just need to give them a chance. You two have a lot in common, you know.”

Before Four could continue his rant, they spotted a familiar figure hopping toward them over the hill. Two, ears bent slightly in an eager, nervous way, was using their magic to carry a box full of belongings. Their wide grin made X smile instantly.

“Hey Four! Hi X!” Two called, waving with one paw. “It’s so good to see you both! I’m so excited to be your neighbor!”

“Two!” X hopped forward. “You made it! Welcome to the Equation Playground, we’re going to help you get settled in!”

“Oh, thank you X!” Two said, then turned to Four with a bright smile. “And Four! My old friend, thanks for coming to help too!”

Four frowned, nose twitching. “Yeah… ‘friend.’ Let’s just get this over with.” He muttered under his breath.

Two either didn’t notice or pretended not to, their excitement undampened. “I’m glad we’ll be right next to each other! I’ll get to see you every day!” They beamed as if that was the best news in the world.

Four winced at the thought, but X leaned in with a grin, nudging him. “Isn’t that great, Four?”

“Yeah… great,” Four groaned, managing a tight smile.

The trio hopped over to Two’s new burrow, which was conveniently located next to Four and X’s shared one. X was already hopping around, excitedly pointing out the best spots for tunnels, while Two surveyed the space with plenty of ideas.

“So, what kind of burrow were you thinking of?” X asked, peering into the box Two had set down, inspecting all the little trinkets. “Something fun with curvy tunnels?”

Two’s eyes sparkled. “I was thinking of something balanced, you know? Like, some curvy tunnels like yours, X, but also symmetrical rooms. That way it’s fun but organized.”

X smiled. “That sounds perfect! Right, Four?”

Four thumped, clearly annoyed with X’s attention being shifted away from him. “It sounds fine, I guess… as long as they don’t mess up the neighborhood with too many weird tunnels.”

Two chuckled, hopping over. “Don’t worry, Four! I know you like things neat. I won’t make a mess. We’ve always worked well together!”

Four’s ears twitched, and he muttered, “If you say so.” He shot X a look that said, please get me out of this.

But X, ever the optimist, just smiled and began digging enthusiastically. “Come on, let’s get started!”

Four attempted to dig straight, clean tunnels for the foundation, but Two kept bouncing in with their own ideas, curving paths and suggesting tweaks that drove Four up the wall.

“Ugh, Two, can you not curve this tunnel?” Four groaned, staring at a bend Two had just made. “It’s supposed to connect to the room in a straight line.”

Two blinked and smiled. “But a little curve makes it more fun! Besides, X loves digging curves, right X?”

X looked up from happily digging side tunnels, grinning. “I do, but maybe we can balance it out?”

Four shot Two a glare, the kind that said, you’re only doing this because you know it bugs me.

Two grinned, unfazed. “Come on, Four, it’ll be fun!”

Four sighed but relented. “Fine. Just don’t add any surprise tunnels.”

With Four keeping things orderly and X adding creative touches, the burrow turned out surprisingly well. By the time the sun began to set, the entrance tunnel was neat and straight, just the way Four liked it.

Once the digging was done, Two opened their box full of decorations. “Now for the best part!” They pulled out a set of colorful math-themed décor.

Four raised an eyebrow. “What… are those?”

“Decorations!” Two said happily, hopping into the burrow and placing little items on the walls. Smiling at something in the box, they pulled out a green-framed picture of Four, X, and themselves, with Four being the only one not smiling. Two carefully placed it above their bed.

They continued unpacking—a decorative green tea set, framed posters, and more. “This one goes here… and this can hang right at the entrance,” they mumbled, lost in concentration as they arranged everything.

X peered in, his eyes lighting up when he saw the framed picture. “Wow, Two! It looks amazing! I remember when we took this!” He giggled.

Two stood back, admiring their burrow. “This is great! Thanks so much for the help, you two.”

Four, looking exhausted from the day’s work, gave a half-hearted nod. “Yeah, I guess it’s fine.”

Two nudged Four playfully. “See? I knew we could work together, like always!”

Four’s ears flattened, but he didn’t pull away. “Just don’t get used to me digging for you all the time.”

As evening settled in, the three bunnies sat outside the burrow, enjoying the cool night air. Two was thrilled to be in their newly decorated home, while Four and X curled up together, paws intertwined.

Even though Four grumbled about Two living next to them, there was a fondness behind the bickering, like siblings who could never admit they actually cared for each other.

For X, the day was a success. Two had a new home, and Four, though he wouldn’t say it, was happy to have helped.

As the stars twinkled overhead, Two looked up and smiled. “I think this is going to be a great new start. Thanks for everything, X. You too, Four. I can’t wait to start decorating more tomorrow, I’ve got even more ideas!”

Four’s ears twitched. “More? You brought enough decorations to last a lifetime.”

X chuckled softly. “You’ll like it, Four. I’m sure Two’s decorations will grow on you.”

“Don’t count on it.”

With that, the three bunnies settled in for the night, knowing that even with a little rivalry, they’d always have each other’s backs.

And as X drifted off, nestled against Four, Two watched from their newly decorated burrow, feeling like they truly belonged in this little corner of the playground.

Maybe, just maybe, Four was starting to feel the same way.

[wooahaes]

where to go?

pairing: non-idol!maknae line [svt] x gn!reader

genre: fluff. roommates au. [can be read as poly if you wish!]

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: reader doesn't have a great relationship with their family. some bickering within fic (between seungkwan and chan).

daisy's notes: these three are my beloveds fr btw

If there was one thing your three housemates knew about you, it was the unfortunate aspect of your family life being… not very great. Ever since you moved in with them a few years ago, they’d noticed plenty. You often spent holidays alone in the apartment, you rarely called home unless you were calling your grandparents, and even then you didn’t seem to be on great terms with your parents past sending money or gift cards to one another on birthdays and special occasions. So they made up for it in different ways: little celebrations for the four of you every year, just to keep you involved in the festivities.

And now that the winter holidays were fast approaching… They’d been discussing plans without you. Essentially, they had plans to head home for some time with their families when they were off work.

And now? Well…

“They should go home with me,” Seungkwan had said, arms crossed over his chest.

A little over a week ago, they’d approached you together to ask if you felt like coming home with one of them. Sure, you weren’t blood related, but the four of you felt like your own little family and you’d met their families enough times that it wouldn’t be weird for you to come around. You had simply given a non-committal “Sure, whatever, just let me know when so I can plan around it for work” without showing any preference or pressure toward them in the event they changed their minds. 

Before Chan or Vernon could get a word in, Seungkwan had continued, “One of my sisters is coming home later because her work schedule didn’t line up. So we have the extra room, and they wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch or anything—”

“Uh. Dude. They wouldn’t sleep on the couch at my place,” Vernon spoke up immediately. “They can take my bed—plus my sister loves them.” 

That was definitely a stretch. His sister liked you well enough, but most of your interactions involved her (jokingly) pitying you for having her brother as a housemate.

Chan rolled his eyes. “Obviously, they’re going to come home with me. They love my family the most.” (Not true: you were on good terms with everyone, no strict preference whatsoever.) 

“You invited them home to celebrate chuseok!” Seungkwan shot back immediately, “Because you didn’t want them to be alone in the apartment!” 

“And my parents love them!” Chan said, “They said they’re welcome back anytime—so they’re probably expecting them!”

“Hey,” Vernon spoke up, “my mom already said she’d rather me bring them than let them spend the holidays alone. Plus she hasn’t seen them in a while. Do you really want to disappoint—”

“No! No! You don’t get to play that card!” Seungkwan huffed, hugging himself tight. “You can take them to see your mom whenever you want! I’m going back to Jeju and I think they should come with me.” 

“My family is in—”

“You just took them home for chuseok a few months ago!” 

Chan stood up, “Right! Months ago! You can take them to Jeju whenever you want, too!”

“That’s different!”

“It’s not!” 

Vernon just sat by, watching the two bicker. “I mean… If they don’t want to travel…”

Seungkwan shook his head, “They already said they’re fine with whatever! All we need to do is let them know the dates so they can plan accordingly—which is why they should go with me, because it gives them more than a week to prepare.”

“They don’t have to plan so much if they come with me,” Vernon hummed, sinking back in his chair, “just saying.”

“I’m going the latest of anyone, so they should go with me,” Chan said.

“It’s not our fault you waited so long to get work off,” Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “You should have planned ahead—”

It was around this point that you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. The three hadn’t noticed you stepped out of your room earlier, headphones draped around your neck (music paused, otherwise one of them would have definitely heard it by now). You’d thought about saying something plenty of times, but something about how heated up you knew they’d become made you stand by and wait. Of course it’d be Seungkwan who cared the most and was the most vocal about it. And, of course it’d be Chan who wanted to take you home again after his parents adored you so much the first time (chuseok with them had been nice, actually, and you appreciated Chan for including you on something you thought you would be intruding on). And then there was Vernon, who had his arguments but settled back to watch the other two butt heads for a while. If you hadn’t stepped in, you were pretty sure he would have jumped back in once they’d argued themselves out. 

“This is serious!” Seungkwan said the moment he saw you. “We don’t want you to spend the holidays alone, so we just need you to decide who you want to go with so we can plan!”

Chan rolled his eyes, “They’re laughing because we’re arguing over it. They probably think we’re silly—”

“I do!” You said, wiping away at a tear that had escaped in your laughter. You made your way across the room to them, already pulling Seungkwan and Chan in for a hug—gesturing for Vernon to come join. “I just… I really love you dumbasses, alright?”

“I wasn’t even arguing—”

You rolled your eyes. “Vernon, get in here.”

The three came together to let you embrace them as warmly as you could before breaking apart again. Chan slid into the innermost chair, letting you take his seat as the four of you started discussing this seriously. With you having gone with Chan for chuseok (again, you thanked him: it was nice that he cared about you and that his family had been okay with letting you join them so you wouldn’t be alone), you’d immediately crossed him off the list to his dismay. But he’d understood: it felt a little unfair for him to steal you away again… and there were plenty of times in the future you could visit his family if you felt like it. That left the decision between Seungkwan and Vernon, and as much as you’d like to see Jeju and the Boos again… you’d rather save that trip for later. Which meant you’d spend some time with Vernon and his family for a bit, the easiest trip and the one you could definitely do if you couldn’t get off work.

“You’re coming home with me next year for chuseok,” Seungkwan said, playing with your fingers idly since you’d left your hand resting on the table. “Chan and Vernon can do something else with you, but you can come with me next year.”

You’d cracked a smile. “Is Mama Boo going to be okay with that?”

“You’re already like family, so yes,” he shrugged. “I’ll talk to her when I see her and make sure, though.”

You’d felt your face grow a little warmer. “How much do your families know…?”

“Enough,” Vernon had shrugged. “I mean. I talk to my mom enough, y’know? She knows that you don’t have any family here and she’d rather you come hang out than be alone. Dad thinks so, too. Everything else is your business, so…” 

“Right!” Chan spoke up. “But… That’s why I invited you for chuseok, actually.” He began to fiddle with his sleeve for a moment. “I asked mom about maybe bringing back some food for you, and she said to just bring you along since Seungkwan and Vernon wouldn’t be here and that you shouldn’t be alone. She actually chewed me out for even thinking about  leaving you here alone when chuseok is about family.”

Again, your face grew warmer with embarrassment. “Oh.” 

Between Seungkwan playing with your fingers, the arm that Chan had rested around you, and the way Vernon was trying to goad you into playing footsie under the table… Something felt particularly sweet about having the three of them to care about you. You’d always try to be there for them when they needed you most, but it still felt weird accepting that they loved and cared for you just as much—to the point where they would straight up fight over who got to take you home for the holidays, just to ensure that you didn’t spend them alone again.

Maybe you really did have a family here after all. It was just one you’d picked out for yourself, and you loved these idiots more than life.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Hiding, Denying

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Ao3

Summary: Annabeth wants to tell their friends about the baby until she doesn't

Luckily Annabeth spends most of her days behind a desk. During the last half of her second trimester, the morning sickness begins to subside a bit. Now that she wasn’t hiding her morning sickness at work, the next hurdle was the bump. 

Since that first morning spotting it, the bump grows more and more prominent. 

She starts with lightly untucking her button downs, adding a little extra space in that tummy region. In following weeks, it’s baggier pants. Then it’s empire waist sundresses all summer long, which hang over her bump but don’t show it.

Annabeth keeps herself tucked in her office (not unusual for her) and holds most of her client meetings in house instead of on site. If her coworkers are still in the dark, there’s no way she’s revealing her pregnancy to their clients. 

Mid-July, Annabeth feels ready. 

They’ve already told Sally and Paul over their weekly Sunday dinner, Annabeth’s parents and brothers at Easter, and Estelle over mini golf and ice cream and a long winded explanation of what it means becoming an aunt. They had a short beach meeting with Posideon, though it seemed he already knew. After a few tries, Annabeth managed an Iris Message to Athena.  

They had tracked Grover down too. Found a time to catch up and have some lunch together in the middle of Central Park. If it was even possible, Grover cried more than Sally and Frederick. 

She wishes Piper and Frank and Hazel were closer. They’d love to tell them in person. Then, Annabeth realizes they can. 

“Percy,” Annabeth says one night. “I want to take a trip.” 

He peeks his head out of the bathroom. Toothbrush his mouth, he says, “when?” 

She shrugs, “next week?” 

With school out of session, it’s no problem for Percy to up and leave and Annabeth’s got plenty of PTO to burn through. She wants to save most of it for when maternity leave runs out but there’s enough that she can take a few days for a little trip. 

So, she puts in the time off request, it’s approved almost immediately, and they book some flights. (Zeus has been a slightly more lenient in allowing Percy to fly nowadays)

The perk of knowing the higher ups at Camp Jupiter means they always have a place to stay out in California. Frank even makes a point to meet them as soon as they arrive. 

“Hey guys! You made it,” he says. 

It’s been a while so they hug. There’s a moment of panic when Annabeth’s bump hits Frank’s stomach. 

Frank opens his mouth but Annabeth never lets him say anything. 

“Sorry, big lunch.” 

Percy looks at her funny. As if to say “I thought we came here to tell people?” 

Frank, bless him, doesn’t say anything as he walks them to their weekend apartment. 

“We’ll see you later Frank,” Annabeth continues, pulling Percy along. 

When they’re safely inside their apartment for the weekend, Annabeth dramatically throws herself onto the sofa, sighing loudly.  

“What was that?” Percy asks. 

“Please.” 

She didn’t even know what she was pleading for. 

“If you don’t want to tell them, it’s okay with me but we’ll need a cover story because they’re all going to wonder why we’re here.” 

The thing was Annabeth did want to tell their friends. She had no idea why she couldn’t just tell Frank earlier. 

Their families had taken the news so well. She’d never seen her dad so happy. He actually cried when they told him. 

She knew their demigod family would react similarly. 

Instead of dealing with her weirdness, she reached a hand up and pulled Percy onto the sofa with her. She had to stretch more now to kiss him with her bump getting in the way but sitting down, Annabeth still held control. She straddles his lap and holds his head in place with one hand to the back of his head. Percy is so easily distracted by kissing when Annabeth pulls away he doesn’t even bother asking more questions as she trails her lips down his neck.   

“Bed?” She asks. 

Percy picks her up and carries her to the bedroom. 

He breaks their kiss when he deposits her on the edge of the bed, “you’re not getting out of this conversation with sex.” 

“Can’t we pause it to have sex first?” 

He answers with a furious kiss to her collarbone. 

An hour later finds them back on the sofa. Decidedly not making out. 

Annabeth’s changed into a sundress, something she’s sure Piper will comment on at dinner tonight. She rarely wore dresses. But it hides her bump better than shorts. 

“We have 20 minutes before we need to be there, let’s chat.” 

She doesn’t want to meet his eyes but she does. It’s Percy. Anything Annabeth says, he’ll understand. He might laugh a little but it’s never in a mean way. 

“What if they judge us?” 

Percy doesn’t laugh. His reaction is worse than laughter; it’s pitiful, it’s worrisome. 

“Annabeth,” he says, gently, “what makes you think that?” 

“We’re so young, Percy.” 

“And? We’ve known each other since we were 12. Together since we were 15. Most of our friends have only known us as a couple. This isn’t going to be a surprise for them.” 

He’s right. Of course he is. Because deep down, Annabeth knew they’re friends were going to be nothing but excited for them. 

But a few days ago allowed for doubt creep into her mind. 

In true Percy fashion, he reads her mind, “so what happened to make you think they would?” 

In true Annabeth fashion, she had kept this bottled inside letting it linger in her mind, creeping into her head when she was trying to fall asleep. When she knew if she let Percy in, share the burden, she’d be past this feeling already. 

“How are we supposed to be good parents? I’ve been royally screwed up by mine. Sure, my dad’s better than he was but my childhood…well what childhood did I really get?” 

“I think my mom did the best she could,” Percy says, avoiding the topic of his former-step father and the lack of seeing his biological dad, “and I think you were a great sibling to your cabin. Being an older sister is very similar to being a mom.” 

Annabeth smiles a little. “And you know that from all your experience as an older sister?” 

“Being an older brother taught me some things.” he shrugs. 

“This isn’t what’s bugging you though,” Percy says, “maybe it’s connected but being worried about us being good parents isn’t the same as our friends judging us for having this baby.” 

“Remember when I went to camp on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, to see Chiron about updating the Big House?”

“Well, after we were done, I went for a walk. Reminiscing…”

She had also gotten herself a larger camp shirt for the bump, which is now too large to fit in the ones she has. 

“And I passed these campers who were talking about kids and stuff. Long story short, they don’t think it’s okay for demigods to be having kids young.”

“Why?” 

“I didn’t hear it all,” she replies, in truth she had gotten too upset and went to the beach to calm down. “Essentially they called it irresponsible because we’re always at risk, y’know? And being a baby into this messy world…what if we’re terrible for doing this?” 

“Annabeth, they’re teenagers, what do they know about this messy world? What do they know about us and what we’ve faced?” Percy tells her, “we’ve done some pretty dangerous stuff. I think parenthood will be a cakewalk in comparison.” 

“But what if we’re just putting this child into…”

“Nope, stop that.” Percy pulls her closer. “You’re going to be a killer mom, whether it’s literal or not. You got this. Right here,” he puts their hands on her bump, “is the luckiest baby in the world because it’s got you on their side.” 

Annabeth wipes away her tears. He’s right and as usual she’s heard exactly what she needed to hear. Percy has perfected that over the years. 

“Let’s go tell our friends we’re pregnant,” she tells him. 

Percy kisses her cheek and she finally feels ready to let the world know she’s going to be the best damn mom she can be.

[emilyofthegreenwood]

"Under the Wild Moon" by Diane Carey

Signet, 1986 || Read and reviewed January 2025

In a phrase: I finished this, but I shouldn't have. The only thing that dragged me through this was the grit of my goal to read all of the Robin Hood-themed historical romance novels. (This was 3 out of my known list of 11.)

This book didn't deserve its pretty cover.

I don't have the energy to review this fully, or dedicate any more brain space to it. So, instead I'm mostly using bullet points, and highlight a few of the worst offenders and some of the weird insanity.

Despite how little I was convinced to care about them, our protagonists are Will Scarlet and Katie. Will's real name is Geoffrey Montfichet, and I can't give you a single good reason why that is. Katie is a very young widow, mourning her husband who dies in the first chapter. Her late husband's trade was blacksmithing, and she was a blacksmith with him. More importantly, Katie is a Druid and most of her personality seems to be "better-than-you-because-I'm-a-Druid". I could not have loathed Will more, and Katie did absolutely nothing to win me over. In fact, at one point, Katie had a near death experience, and I did not care.

Some things that made me laugh, whether or not they were intended to:

At one point, Will, Alan, and Katie go to the Feast of Fools festival in Nottingham. There are dancers there from West Africa, and Will basically turns to Alan and says, "It's okay, buddy, you can talk about your study abroad. No one will tell you to shut up this time." And we learn that Alan was studying in Mali, Africa long enough to speak Malinke fluently and culturally immerse.

This book from 1986 featured Robin threatening to dig Will's heart out with a spoon. I thought I was hallucinating.

A description of how Will killed someone: "Will quite simply choked the guard into oblivion."

During a genuinely fun and cute chase scene, Katie climbs a tree and calls down that Will has to "Come up!" And then, Will mutters to himself, "Already am." This is perhaps the only joke that lands in the whole book. Even this is ruined by Will's mutter being described as crusty. Why.

My next set of bullet points has a theme:

Despite multiple times when Robin verbally states that they do not harm women, the rape jokes from Robin and the Merry Men were plentiful. On the same page where we're told that women would come to no harm, it's implied that sexual assault is normal and expected. #notmyRobinHood

On that note, the outlaws keep a separate little camp of, direct quote, "women who served". Yeah, and it's implied that these women are fed better when they're providing their services to someone. Allow me to say again! #notmyRobinHood

Robin and every outlaw with him are actually just noblemen who are loyal to King Richard, for which trait they are outlawed or willingly rebelling. They do not rob to help people. They rob to amass a ransom. Tradespeople are convinced that Robin is good when they’re told by Katie, “But don’t you know he’s a nobleman?” His deeds don’t make him good. His loyalty to the king and social status make him good. #notmyRobinHood

Robin and Marian say not one word to each other. Not one. They share a tent, we're told halfway through the book. She's "his lady", we're told. I don't know what that's supposed to imply. But they do not speak or interact. They barely speak about each other, except for the one time that Robin refers to her as very innocent. He doesn't stand up for her when others badmouth her, either. #notmyRobinHood

I have never been more saddened by a Marian in all my life. She was barely there, and when she was around, it was made clear that everyone else was annoyed by her because she talks a mile a minute. During one scene when she's assisting with a birth, Katie reflects that Marian has finally shut up. She's in her 20s and everyone refers to her as innocent and childlike. It's so overdone that it's uncomfortable to think of her in a relationship with Robin, especially considering what I've already mentioned.

To help share my pain regarding Marian, here are some quotes. Don't be fooled, she appears on page at random for a mention and then fades away. More often than not, she wasn't given dialogue at all, despite enjoying speaking so much.

"By the way, I haven't been told your name, dear, so would you tell me? I hope it's not Bridget. You don't look like a Bridget. But then, you don't look like a Rosemary or Modena, either. People tell me I look like a Marian, but I've never thought so. I always thought I looked like an Eliande. If I have a daughter, I hope she looks like an Eliande. What did you say your name was?"

"I hope, I certainly hope, he can fight good."

The last we see of Marian, she's literally burying herself in the dirt to escape a forest fire. We assume she's okay because everyone gets out just fine, but she's never mentioned again.

I don't have a good way to wrap this up. I didn't enjoy the characters, I've never read more homophobia in a Robin Hood book, Marian made me want to cry, I'm really glad this is behind me.

Robin Hood shelf: for more Robin Hood book reviews

[aesethewitch]

Notes from an Ex-Empath (Full Ver.)

This post is a highly personal account of my time as an empath. It’s a doozy, and I didn’t mean for it to get so long, but as with all things that really matter to me, it got a bit out of hand. I’ve left out the goriest of the details, but still take heed of the content warnings. Thanks for reading. (Placed under a cut for length.)

Content Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of unhealthy home environments, emotional manipulation, cult behavior, mental health struggles, delusions, brief mention of hallucinations and nightmares, self worth issues, compulsive lying, toxic friendships, and teen angst.

Subtle Beginnings

The year is 2011. High school is hard. Like, really hard. Harder than it should be, probably. I’ve just left an abusive relationship to enter a new one which would turn out to be, you guessed it, abusive. Escapism is the norm, and I’m always looking for new ways to feel in control of my life.

I’ve always been a little strange. I saw my first ghost before I knew what death was. I talk to trees and the wind, and I know all the names of the local rivers, right down to the little creek behind the school. But by this point, I’ve learned to not say that. I know it’s weird, and I’m happy to be weird. Weird is cool, at least in my friend circle. Outside of it, not so much, but I’ve learned to Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way my way through life at this point.

My friend buys a cheap mood ring from a shop in the mall, and that’s how we learn what auras are. She’s into it. I’m into her, even if I don’t know how to articulate that at the time. So I get obsessed, because I don’t know how to be anything else. I read all about auras and color theory and energy and “chakras” on loud, multi-colored websites proclaiming that you (yes, YOU!) can become a master of aura-reading and energy healing in just one month for only $12.99…

I don’t learn about being an empath (or Indigo Child, or Starseed, or whatever we were calling ourselves at the time) from the internet. No, a different friend overhears us talking about auras and mood rings and meaning (because I’d spent hours and hours reading about it and am now eager to display my knowledge; I like being an expert; I like knowing things), and he asks us if we’re empaths. He tells us what they are — people who can feel the emotions of others acutely and are highly sensitive.

And I think about it.

And I think about it some more.

And then, I think, hey… I do feel others’ emotions. I take them on like they’re my own. I carry them on my shoulders and between my ribs and in my bones, and it’s second nature. And I say, yes. Yes, I am an empath.

An Inexperienced Expert

Taking on the title of Empath was like finding the Holy Grail. I finally had a word to explain why I felt so energized in crowds but drained after going home, or why I found other people’s pain so upsetting and visceral, or why I could guess my friends’ emotions even when they were able to hide them from everyone else. I felt like I understood myself at long last.

I wasn’t sensitive. I wasn’t a crybaby. I was an empath. It was a superpower, something that made me special. Because it was a superpower, it was something I could learn to harness and control. My sensitivity would no longer rule me; I could learn how to rule it.

I did a lot of reading. I went to the library and read books with titles I can’t even remember anymore. From firsthand accounts by other empaths to explanations of energies I couldn’t actually understand, I was way out of my depth. But I liked to know things. I liked to be an Expert (tm).

Honestly, I still do. I like knowing what I’m talking about. Being an insecure child who needs to feel in control and enjoys being respected, I could pretend that I understood. I did plenty of that all the time, and it worked out (most of the time). False confidence was something I was finely attuned to already. I could bullshit my way in and out of any situation I wanted easily — from teachers forgiving missing homework to lying about my whereabouts to my controlling parents to pretending I was attracted to my boyfriend at the time, I was an expert in lying to survive.

Surely I could pretend to know what I was talking about. After all, I was an empath, an Indigo Child with a beautiful, healing, pure white aura. I was wise beyond my years, in tune with the Universe and all its creations. The information came from inside me anyways, and all those books said to trust my intuition. The voice in my heart that whispered about how special and different I was for being an empath was right, and I shouldn’t question it. A little improvisation wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

… Right?

When my friends asked about it, I spoke with confidence. I proclaimed myself an empath to anyone and everyone. No, I couldn’t actually see auras, but I could act like I could. The vibes were there — I could feel them like pinpricks of lightning on my skin and as little nudges at the back of my mind. All I had to do was squint and assign colors to those feelings. Sometimes, I thought I really could see them. I can’t discount it entirely, but I’m likely to attribute it to tricks of light and wishful thinking now, looking back.

I had a reputation for Knowing Things. Weird, niche facts. Being right about obscure topics. Remembering minute details from notes at the end of the teacher’s presentation given three weeks ago. Guessing right answers to questions I’d never heard based on logical reasoning and deductive skills. I had near-perfect grades in the top 3% of the class. I had a side-gig in helping people improve their essay skills.

So, when I talked about being an empath, my friends believed me. They proudly proclaimed the colors of their auras as I painted pictures for them.

And it felt good. I was both the center of attention and had no spotlight on me. I couldn’t see my own aura, so of course, I couldn’t tell them what mine was like. But theirs, oh, theirs? That was easy. I had a gift for telling them exactly what they needed to hear. I solved their problems in a flash, giving the perfect advice and predicting outcomes using nothing more than good old-fashioned vibes.

An empathic gift, of course. Understanding and unselfish love are tenets of the Empath Way. We’re healers, I told my friends, and that’s why people ask me for advice. It’s why I’m so good at it, I said. I never took my own advice about self-love and choosing better relationships — that wouldn’t come until several years later — but that didn’t matter. My issues were trivial; I had The World to worry about.

Despite my newness to the empath scene, I positioned myself as not just an expert but The Expert. It wasn’t really on purpose. I couldn’t help myself. My friends wanted me to be a wise, trusted source of information, so I was one. Or, well, I thought I was one.

The goal was never to fool anyone. I believed with my whole heart that I was an empath, a Starseed, someone born to do noble things and help people. It was my purpose. As an empath, I had a duty to spread good vibes whenever I could. If I couldn’t do that, I was worth nothing.

Sometimes, that meant talking out my ass about concepts I read about at a bleary 1:00 AM before having to wake up at 6:00 to catch the bus to school on time. If I made something up or said something untrue, it was because it “felt right.” And that made it simply right in my mind. Those books and blog posts and articles said it was.

As far as experts go, I definitely was not one. I hesitate even now to call myself an expert in anything whatsoever. But back then, it was a matter of course. My friends wanted advice, so I gave them advice.

My friends wanted me to be an empath, so I was one. Some of those friends felt the same things I did. Others’ emotions, the burden of it all, the weight of responsibility for everyone around us. We were empaths together.

I was never more alone, and I had absolutely no idea.

Downward Spiral

At the time, I wouldn’t have called it a spiral. I wouldn’t have called it a mental health crisis. And I certainly wouldn’t have blamed the whole empath thing for any of it.

No. Of course not.

As I graduated high school, I was entirely adrift. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with my life. All of my friends were going to be leaving for college elsewhere while I stayed home to go to a local one.

But that summer, I was intent on enjoying every last minute of my life. It was time to take charge of my existence. I still called myself an empath, but it was more like a personality trait than anything else. An explanation, a fun fact. I’m double jointed, I dislike sweets, I’m an empath.

And my friends were empaths, too. Well, most of us. One was a “brick wall” of a guy — a skeptic who found us fascinating and wanted very much to believe in what we were doing and saying. At the same time, one friend was getting into Wicca. And, afraid to look like a fool, I pretended I knew all about it. I knew generally what Wicca was, because of the empath stuff running over into witchcraft circles. It was enough to sound competent, and that was enough!

So, suddenly, I was The Expert on Wicca and witchcraft and magic. A lot of it was stuff I really did do and believe, so it was simple to fill in the gaps with logic. And what I couldn’t make up, I ignored. Or I looked it up later and pretended I knew all along.

Anxiety was my constant companion. I was an imposter in my own life. This was just one more act to put on.

And because of my empath abilities, it was easy! I could determine the right thing to say at the right time. I read the room, felt my friends’ energies, and adapted accordingly. We did rituals and cast spells, and through it all, I relied heavily on my ability to read them clearly.

So when I failed to read one friend and it cost us everything, it was devastating.

I won’t go into details to protect their identity. The entire thing was… ugly. I spent a long time miserable over it. But I knew, even when I was heartbroken over it, that it was my fault. The empath in me was clinging to everything too hard, seeing what I wanted to see instead of what was. I needed to be The Expert, and I was failing at it.

There’s a lot about that time that I don’t remember clearly. What I do remember is a lot of stuff about past lives, reincarnating together, and misguided notions of deities and magic and history. It was a mess. One delusion fed into another, building into a web of intricate, interweaving stories. We were encouraging each other’s theories and beliefs and feelings without criticism, because to challenge one person was to challenge the entire structure.

And we couldn’t do that. Because to do that would mean admitting that we were all lying.

Because it would mean I wasn’t an empath, wasn’t special, wasn’t anything. I was just me, and I’d be back to square one with no clue about what was wrong with me.

That house of cards was years in the making. When that friend split off and stopped talking to us (to me), I thought it was going to come crumbling down. And in many ways, it did.

I dropped out of college barely two weeks into the second semester because I was failing every course but one. I started seeing a therapist, and then another one, and then a psychiatrist. I received words for my anxiety and even ADHD. Things started getting better, little by little.

Lingering Problems

I reconnected with someone from high school by chance. We got very close. I helped raise her new baby. Things were good.

And then, old habits rose. The need to be Right and Expert ate me alive, even though I recognized them as symptoms of anxiety. But with this reconnected friend feeding into my insecurities, echoing those feelings of inadequacy and out-of-place-ness and a need to belong somewhere and to mean something, it was hard to logically sort those thoughts.

Everything was about being an empath. Our shared difficulties, our pains, our burdens — all of it was because we were empaths. We were empaths because of lingering past lives.

I won’t get into those, either, because they’re so incredibly specific, and I don’t want the people involved to see this and Know. Just know that our lives revolved around being empaths — special, sensitive, powerful, and made for infinitely complex purpose.

People who weren’t empaths were simultaneously lucky and pitiable. They would never know what it’s like to walk into a room and Understand everyone there. They would never have to bear the weight of someone else’s grief.

I wouldn’t say we looked down on non-empaths, necessarily. At least, not on purpose or consciously. Their lack of skill wasn’t their fault, after all. They were normal. We were special.

Notably, this is when I stopped using the term “starseed” at all — it was close, but not good enough to describe what we were feeling. It was a woefully human way to understand what we were, you see. A convenient word that didn’t encapsulate us, because we were special, even among the ever-special starseeds. We didn’t have a word for what we were. We didn’t really need one, because we didn’t need to describe ourselves to each other. We just Knew.

When I read my friends’ auras and described their energetic feelings to them (which I was an expert at by that point; my natural empath abilities had been honed to a fine edge), I was as thorough as possible. Mostly, I was accurate. Anytime I wasn’t, it was because of someone’s protective barriers or natural resistance to being read. We went to cemeteries so I could commune with spirits and tell my friends all about their energies. They couldn’t exactly challenge me about it, so they accepted what I said as Truth.

I was their Leader. How could I possibly be fallible?

It was, in the end, the accuracy of it that kept me in the empath mindset. The positive feedback loop I’d created for myself just confirmed my empath feelings. And if those were right, then everything else must’ve been, too — because it all came from the same place.

It just made sense.

I kept a journal off and on during those years. Reading through it now is… well, it’s harrowing. The entries are dated. Much of it is free-writing, a technique I still use today as a warm-up exercise. But almost all of it is a cry for help. It details hallucinations, delusions, nightmares, dissociative episodes, depressive episodes, manic spirals, and more.

If someone were to share this with me today, I would suggest they seek help with their mental state immediately. At the time, I believed myself to be receiving visions of the past. I believed that my empathic abilities were opening me up to a long lineage of lives I could tap into and, perhaps, return to one day.

There is a small, injured part of myself that wishes I could return to those feelings. No matter how unhealthy it really was, it made me feel strong and special and wanted in a time when I knew, deep down, that I was none of those things.

It was a comfortable lie. I knew that the past lives were bullshit. I did. I can admit that now. It was a series of elaborate lies built on lies built on lies.

And yet, I still firmly knew I was an empath. That kernel of truth never wavered. It was the foundation.

I was slowly teaching myself magic during these years. I’d been doing spirit work and tarot for years already, so the craft was almost second nature. It took a back seat to the rest, but it was there.

Even as my relationships grew less and less stable, I had magic and spirits and my empath abilities to fall back on. Surely everything would be alright.

By Tooth and Claw

After the unhealthy friendship I described above dissolved rather spectacularly, I spent a few more years harboring the past life stories. They morphed slowly into fiction, and I gradually lost interest. My remaining friends from that group and I would talk with disdain about the one we’d cut out; she wasn’t good enough. She was lying.

Because our memories were different, you see.

The justifications we crafted were as elaborate as any other lie we told. She really was a manipulative person whose goal was to “own” our friendship — and we acknowledged that. But we still couldn’t shatter the veneer between all of us that the rest was all lies.

So we left it. We didn’t talk about it again. But it lived on in my mind and in that digital journal. It haunted me.

And, as all toxic friendships built on shared lies tend to do, that relationship also imploded.

It left me utterly friendless. I had no one but my partner at the time, and even that relationship wasn’t exactly going well. I was questioning my sexuality all over again, and I’d just started acknowledging the whole Gender thing, and I had no one to talk to about any of it. It was a miserable existence, but I’d still rather have no friends at all than have friends like those.

I abandoned all of it. Without the people who propped up the lies, there was no need for me to keep going. I stopped with the past lives stuff, I stopped all the magic, I stopped my spirit work, and I stopped calling myself an empath.

It was… Well, it was easy. Shockingly so.

Healing from the rest was decidedly not easy. It took a lot of hard work and introspection. I had to own up to the lies I told myself and others, even if I was never going to be able to have the closure-inducing conversations with them.

I decided to start choosing myself. I made new friends. I dumped my boyfriend who I hadn’t been in love with for over a year (or maybe longer). I started dating my current partner. I let myself move on.

I’m now about seven years out of that last friendship, and I finally feel like I’ve moved on.

My laptop died. I saved my necessary files and moved them to my current PC.

I didn’t bring the journal over.

The Draw and the Cost

When you’re a scared, sad, lonely person, you’ll go looking for fulfillment anywhere. You’ll accept whatever others give you if it means they’ll value you for even a single moment.

Positive feedback means everything to someone who has never received it before. When you have to work hard for an ounce of attention or affection at home, you come to expect that you’ll always have to do that everywhere you go.

I remember when Facebook became a thing just as I was starting to become my own person in high school. Liking pages called things like “Getting caught in the rain with your best friend” and “Ultra kawaii girlz do it best!” and “Sorry I read your mind, I’m an empath LOLZ” and “RANDOM TACO MUSTACHE PANDA ATTACK!” was par for the course after school. (Sorry for the psychic damage.)

I also remember the first call-out post I ever saw on Facebook. It was about some girl in my grade who I didn’t know. The girl who posted it was an empath, of course, and accused the other girl of being a fake, cheating liar. I don’t know if it was true. At the time, I took it at face value — after all, the accuser was an empath. Empaths don’t lie. Obviously.

I still struggle with compulsive lying. I suspect I always will. The drive to be an Expert is a part of me that I’ll never be able to get rid of. The need to be accepted and appreciated, too, will never leave me. It’s part of why I love this platform, and all other forms of written communication, over speaking to people verbally. While I can usually catch myself before I tell a reflexive, unnecessary lie these days, I sometimes slip. It’s an embarrassing thing. I try to force myself to admit it and then tell the truth.

Usually, I succeed. It’s a work in progress.

But typing, I can backspace. I can delete shit. I can keep things in my drafts and edit them and adjust wording to my heart’s content. I can remove messages and take things back. It’s easier to say “I was wrong” or “This wasn’t true” to strangers on the internet, after all.

Now, as I near thirty years old, I have better language to describe what I was feeling. The overwhelming emotions from everyone around me, the overload I felt in crowds, the reflex to please everyone, the uncanny ability to read a room’s atmosphere at a glance…

I was an undiagnosed autistic child with serious trauma and unmedicated ADHD. I needed help. I asked for help. Everything I did was a cry for help.

I wanted to feel special. I wanted to feel powerful. I wanted to feel useful and valuable. I wanted to feel different in a way that was manageable.

I wanted language to describe myself that was empowering. “Empath” was empowering and manageable and useful and valuable and powerful and special. It felt good. And because it felt good, it felt right. And because it felt right, it was a solid band-aid on the open wound of my life. “Empath” was an escape from the reality of my situation. It made everything easier to bear.

I’m sad because I’m an empath, and someone in homeroom was crying.

I’m angry because my parents’ fight leaked into every corner of the house, and I couldn’t help but absorb it into myself like a sponge, because I’m an empath.

I’m so happy I can’t contain myself, and I have to flail and jump around, because everyone around me is cheering and singing and dancing, and I feel it all like a growing avalanche that echoes through the walls of my body and rings in my bones as a song I cannot contain. Because I’m an empath.

I’m always being hurt because nasty people are attracted to my empath abilities. It makes me an easy target. That’s just how it is, and that’s how it’ll always be, because I’m an empath.

I’m too sensitive, too soft, too emotional, because I’m an empath.

Every step I take away from the “empath” label is done with the full knowledge that without it, I wouldn’t have survived. I needed something to cling to, and “empath” was enough to keep me afloat. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, I was looking for Meaning.

Besides, “empath” was an easier word to swallow than “traumatized” or “abused” or “mentally ill.” It didn’t taste as bitter. I didn’t choke on it.

There were no resources for me. All I had was what I could fashion myself out of bubble gum and black sharpie and sheer force of will and please God, if you are there, let me live another day. Everything I am, I owe to my own two hands and luck.

I don’t need the “empath” label anymore. I’ve outgrown it. I recognize it for what it is now: a patchwork explanation for other phenomena in my life that are better explained from a psychiatric standpoint — and from a truly philosophical, spiritual one.

To this day, talking about empaths and twin flames and starseeds and past lives and everything that goes with those things remains a trigger. It gets easier and easier to manage, but I still blacklist those tags. I avoid it at all costs. Empaths I can manage, for the most part. Twin flames I won’t abide; soul mates are on thin ice. Starseeds are a crock of shit for a whole bunch of other reasons. Past lives… it’s the only thing I won't really talk about at all.

And I ask you kindly, please, don’t ask.

Where I Stand

I’m still paying the costs of all this. When you spend most of your life under immense stress, having yearly crises of one kind or another, it kind of fucks you right up.

A few years ago, I returned to witchcraft. I started small. I did a little simmer pot to welcome myself to my brand-new apartment. A little protection here, a short meditation there. It felt good. I didn’t feel like I was slipping backwards.

After that, I returned to spirit work and divination. My old allies welcomed me back with open arms. It was a relief to unwrap my tarot cards and find the spirit attached to them still there. I set up a little altar space for them. Things were good.

I returned to the cemeteries. I apologized. The conversations I was having with those spirits were real, but I wasn’t respecting them the way I should’ve. We made a deal to even those scales, and I’ve paid in full. Those relationships are better than ever. Some of those spirits have followed me, per our agreements, and I work with them regularly.

And things are good. I haven’t done any backsliding. Last year, I allowed myself to question the nature of the universe and theories on magic and how it actually works. I made the connection with Lady Fate and drew up a theory on connections in magic. And it was fine. It is fine.

I’m extremely alert to the signs. I remain critical of my experiences. But I’m letting my personal practice be… casual. Natural. It’s just for me, not a performance. It doesn’t need to be spectacular or even produce results. It just has to be gratifying.

I started this blog for myself. I wanted to encourage myself to try new things and get out there again. It’s hard to make friends and connect with people, and I’m wary of IRL groups — for good reasons I’m sure you can guess at.

It’s been extremely cool to get to interact with people here. I get to vet people before I ever talk to someone. I can sweep their blog for signs of things I want to (need to) avoid. Blocking people is good for my health. This is the safest environment I’ve ever had to explore, communicate, get feedback, read criticism, and learn about witchcraft.

I am immensely grateful to my various lovely Tumblr mutuals, to my Discord pals, and to the folks I follow in all my witchy spaces. It’s through great effort that I’m able to talk about this stuff at all. I wouldn’t have realized I could if not for a brief mention in a private Discord server about doing a post about being an ex-empath.

It’s been so long since I’ve thought about it. It all feels so far away now. I know the distance is a testament to my own hard work. The difference between my mental health then and now is staggering. Even on my worst days now, I am nowhere near that level of Bad.

Where do I stand? On my own two damn feet, that’s where.

A Bit of Advice

I will never use the “empath” label again. I don’t think anyone should, though I understand the appeal. Obviously. You’ve read this far, I’d be surprised if you thought I don’t get it.

Instead, explore what you’re actually experiencing. Are you showing signs of a manic-depressive cycle? Are you having symptoms of anxiety, autism, ADHD, or depression? Do you know what depersonalization and dissociation are, and what they feel like? How about synesthesia, such as mirror-touch synesthesia, which can help explain why you feel a touch on someone else’s skin as though it was on your own? What feels bad, and why? Is your home life fraught, or was it? Are you looking for ways to cope with feelings that are too large to contain?

Do a simple search for “empath traits.” Check out any list of qualities empaths have. Make note, in particular, of the traits you identify with. Now take a look at a list of, say, “autism traits” or “PTSD traits.” Check out the overlap between them.

It’s important to consider mundane causes and mundane solutions. My greatest mistake when I picked up the “empath” label was that I believed there were no resources for me. I even said it up above that there were none.

But there were. Trusted teachers, the guidance counselor, the youth council director. Clubs, support groups. There were places I could have gone, but I was so far inside my own mind that I couldn’t see them. And the people around me were so dazzled by my false confidence that they couldn’t see how badly I was struggling. Admitting I needed help was akin to admitting defeat, and I couldn’t do that.

But you can.

“Empath” Alternatives

When I went looking for other accounts of people leaving the “empath” label, I was surprised to find… not a lot of bitterness. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Empaths” are often of the “love and light” persuasion, and that sort of philosophy isn’t always so easily let go of. Empathy for our past selves and the community surrounding even the most toxic of concepts is par for the course, don’t you think?

The primary thing most ex-empaths share in common (from what I’ve seen) is that they’ve outgrown the label in some way. Whether they realize why they picked up the label is hit or miss. Some, like myself, drop it almost unthinkingly after years of using it to define ourselves and only realize years later why we used it and what it did to us. Others leave it behind by choice, opting for more up-to-date terminology or paths.

I know this might be a little surprising. After all, I’m a witch. I do magic, and I work with spirits. Surely I believe in empaths as a concept, even if I ended up not being one.

No, I don’t. Not really. Some people really are naturally sensitive to others’ energy and/or feelings, and energy work is a real thing that you can do.

But the “empath” label isn’t helpful. If anything, it’s reductive. Why would you want to reduce the plethora of abilities and skills at your fingertips to a single word? Why submit to a rigid, fantastical definition that encourages self-martyrdom and unhealthy social behaviors when reality is much more interesting?

If you really feel drawn to calling yourself an “empath,” consider why that is. You’re sensitive, you’ve got an interest in the supernatural, you want to dip your toes into magic, or you just Know You’re Different?

Primarily, consider the fact that you’re likely neurodivergent in some way. See the above section about that, and do those trait searches again. Be really honest with yourself.

Secondarily, consider simple energy work instead. Rather than relying on a prescribed set of traits laid out like a cheap newspaper astrology column that’s so vague it could apply to anyone with the right spin because it’s been written by someone who doesn’t know what a Capricorn is, focus on an actual goal.

The first mistake people who pick up the “empath” label make is the assumption that they’re Special and Different. While you are a unique human being, you’re no more special or different than the guy next to you on the bus who’s got the spiritual sense of a lump of clay. You don’t need to be special or different. You just need to be human.

Sensing certain types of energy (like emotional energy) might come naturally to you. That’s great! It’s a real strength that you might have; it’s one that I certainly have, and it helped to confirm my “empath” related delusions described up above. Instead of resting on your laurels about having this talent, put some work into it. Figure out how to manipulate your own energy. See if you can feel plants’ energy or just people’s. Research the various methods of energy visualization and manipulation. Read some theory. Learn how to read auras if you can see them.

(Which, by the way, I can’t. I’m on the more severe side of aphantasia, and I can’t visually imagine jack shit. The whole “reading auras” thing I talk about up above is a big old lie. I can work off of vibes and sensations to give an approximation of an impression of what something might look like, but that’s it. I’m basically blind in that regard. What I lack in sight, I make up for in my other senses, though, so it’s not a huge loss.)

If you’ve got a talent for guessing outcomes to things, you might find success in divination. Pick up some cards, dice, or literally any other method you like and give it a whirl. See what works and be honest with yourself when it doesn’t. At the end of the day, the most important thing is that: Be honest with yourself. It’s fucking hard. I know. Trust me, do I know. [Gestures to the above emphatically.]

Learn discernment skills. If you don’t know what that is or what it means or how to discern, there are a bunch of good guides out there. I’m sure I can scrounge up a couple to reblog in the wake of this post.

You cannot fix someone else’s problems. You cannot be a permanent balm on someone else’s life. Your worth does not lie in the service of others. Your life is not worth less than theirs. You should not be a sacrifice in the name of someone else’s carelessness. You aren’t responsible for the emotional well-being of everyone around you.

You don’t need to be “special” to ask for help. You don’t need a magical label to stand up for yourself and ask for accommodations. You are allowed to have feelings and react to other people’s existence and feel overwhelmed and experience second-hand emotion without putting yourself on the martyr’s pedestal.

Decide what you actually want from being an “empath,” and be honest with yourself. Do you want to use the “empath” label because it makes you feel less alone? Less scared? Less like a freak? Ask why you feel that way in the first place. What’s the thing wearing fear like a shroud? What is its true name?

And honestly, if you can’t subscribe to the “empath” label or do energy work or spirit work or magic or whatever without it risking your mental health… don’t. Just don’t.

Because I can attest, the band-aid doesn’t work. It won’t last forever. You’ll have to face the monster behind the mask sooner or later, and it’s significantly better to do it when you’ve got the choice.

Trust me. I’d know.

(Oh, and by the by: Don’t be mean or try to shame people using the empath label using my experiences. I won’t be a cudgel for you to swing at somebody else. Share this with whoever, but be kind about it.)

Hoo Boy, That Was a Lot, Huh?

Well. Like I said, this whole thing got away from me in a serious way. I’ve got other things I should be working on, but this… well, it took over my brain. Once I started typing, I couldn’t stop. And now here we are.

If you read this whole thing, thanks. No, seriously. It means a lot. I hope you got something out of it.

I mentioned somewhere in this whole thing that I don’t talk about this stuff. For the most part, that’s because I just don’t think about it anymore. It’s all in the past. But if my story can help someone or inform someone out there, well. Here it is. I’m open to questions. Respectful ones, mind you. I won’t be talking about past lives at all at this point, so like I said before, don’t ask. But any of the other stuff… [shrug]. Shoot. Some things I’ll have to omit or leave unanswered for the privacy of my past friends and relationships. And some things I just won’t talk about because it’s frankly none of your business.

But yeah. I’m releasing this into the wild. I almost decided to not publish this at all, but I think it's too important to keep to myself. I’ve given it a cursory look-over for grammar, but… honestly, I think it’s good the way it is. It’s honest.

And these days, that’s all I aim to be.

Shilling

Anyhow, doing words is my living these days. If you like these words or other ones I’ve written up, throw a couple dollars in my bread jar. Thanks again.

[Harmonica fades into the distance]

[commando-rogers]

I know little ol me does not get much traction on this site and I’ve been reblogging PLENTY about the WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes, but I keep seeing people confused about this online and irl so I just want to say:

As of now, the unions have NOT asked us to stop watching content. You can (and should!) keep watching and streaming your favorite shows and movies.

Now, I’m not a member of either union (though I hope to join SAG in the coming years if I get lucky, and maybe WGA is in my future if I get off my butt and write!) so I am not an authority on this, nor do I have all of the information. I could be mistaken on some of this, so those with more knowledge feel free to correct me! But I do know for a fact that the unions have not asked us to boycott watching shows.

The purpose of these strikes is to stop providing LABOR to the AMPTP (the gross weird mafia-like conglomeration of studios such as Netflix, Warner Bros, the like), not to stop watching.

Part of the issue with the proposed contracts from studios is the fairness of residuals (money paid to a writer/actor when their work is aired on TV, released on DVD, sold to a network, etc.). If already-aired shows and movies continue doing well, these workers keep getting paid (at least a little, they’re not getting paid for their jobs while striking but the studios cannot withhold residuals). (Of course, it’s messier with streaming services, which is another thing being advocated for in these contracts.)

So keep streaming movies and shows! Keep tuning in on TV if any of you still have cable! Go see Barbenheimer or anything you’d like to see at the theater! Support the art! This is a labor strike, not a consumer boycott. Not only might it help with residuals, but it shows the studios that there is still a demand for content. People are still watching their movies and shows, they still want to pay their subscriptions, and the studios are proverbially shooting themselves in the knee by withholding future content. That’s why this strike will work, that’s why WGA and SAG-AFTRA refuse to back down until their demands are met.

ESPECIALLY with shows that are coming out! Good Omens is one of my favorite shows, and season 2 drops on July 28th. Neil Gaiman, the writer, is very active on tumblr if you’d like to go check out his blog, and he’s being incredibly gracious and helpful answering questions about the strike. And he said the BEST thing we can do for the show is WATCH it. Watch in one sitting! Watch it on loop! We need to demonstrate demand, or the studios will cancel shows, which means artists out of work.

Of course, should the unions come out with a statement and ask us to stop watching, do it. However, that is not currently their wish, nor is it a rule of the strike.

(A note: if you’re like me and hoping to become an actor or writer in the future, this is NOT the time to get your big break. Studios are gonna come looking for nonunion talent to keep productions going. They are exploiting us and our desperation. If you scab and perform labor for a struck company during this strike, you WILL be blacklisted from ever joining the union in the future. Aspiring actors, that featured background gig is not worth kissing your hopes of a SAG card goodbye. Same goes for writers. You may see some SAG work continuing, that is being done under special agreements with the union, for SPECIFIC exceptions. Do your research on every casting call. Do not scab, these union members are fighting for OUR futures in this industry! The worst thing you can do is hurt them and throw your future away.)

Check out the WGA’s website and SAG-AFTRA’s website for more info on strike rules, and things you can do to help. If you want to make a financial difference, the best thing you can do is donate to strike funds. Go to this link and under Strike Assistance you’ll see a number of funds that are being used to help pay writers while out of work, AND to help pay the crew members who are also out of work because of the strike! Worker solidarity! Here is a link to emergency funds for SAG-AFTRA members.

If you’re in NYC or LA, stop by the picket lines! Even non-members are welcome to march, and a great way to help is to show up and hand out water bottles, food, anything you’re willing to donate and help make the picketers’ day just a little easier. And here’s a link to the LA chapter of Democratic Socialists of America. They have information on strike funds, as well as a fund specifically to help buy snacks for picketers! It’s summer, and both NYC and LA are miserable to be marching in the sun all day.

The other way the unions say we can help is by speaking up and voicing your support on social media. An anonymous studio exec told Dateline “The endgame is to allow things to drag on until union members start losing their apartments and losing their houses.” They said the quiet part out loud. You can look up the salaries of these studio execs. It’s tens and hundreds of millions. Then go look up what each union is asking for in their contracts. It’s a drop in the studios’ bucket, but they’re refusing to budge, and they’re showing their complete lack of humanity.

tl;dr: you can and should keep watching shows and movies during the strikes, unless we are told otherwise by the unions. There are other great ways to help! These unions are a huge driving force of American economy, and hopefully these strikes will help garner support for a larger labor movement for all workers to get fair pay.

Thanks for tuning in to my accidentally very lengthy post. But I hope this helps clear up confusion. Share this info with your friends, and voice your support loudly! And for the love of god DO NOT CROSS PICKET LINES!

[luvdive]

✧･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ* wanted connections *･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧

some of these are romantic, some are platonic, some could go either way. if you’re interested in any of them, give this post a little like & i’ll come ask you about it!! the ones with a little ✨ next to them are the ones i’m most interested in!!

woo wonjae ✨

i don’t have as much to write for this one lmao. from the age of 16 to 22, wonjae was an illegal underground fighter who people only ever knew as 'boy' because he wouldn't tell anyone his name. he's a loved up househusband now but i want to do more stuff from when he was a street fighter !!!

woo nawon

again now much to say on this one lmao she's interning at her dad's entertainment company i just want her to have industry friends

kim chaerim

hi can i get a boyfriend for chaerim that’s just as directionless as she is?? bonus points if he’s a musician like her & they can just have cliché jam sessions together. alternate plot, because she’s a stubborn Indie Chick™ can i get a bf for her that’s the ceo of an entertainment company or something?? someone that’s linked to the music industry but in a way that she wouldn’t jump at the chance to get a record deal u know??

jung seri ✨

seri is a full time nanny stuck in a relationship with a man that doesn't appreciate her. pspsps a single dad who needs a nanny? cue them flirting with each other (intentionally or unintentionally) until seri realises actually maybe he treats her better than her bf does

sasha shepard

mass effect. mass effect!! mass effect!!! mass effect canons, mass effect ocs, other shepards, aliens with no affiliation to the mass effect universe i don’t fucking care i just love mass effect & i want to do things with sasha already

yi wonju

tw death wonju is a pansori singer first and a witch second!! her husband was her gosu but he died </3 and now she's in need of a new one. must be okay with killing people but living forever as a result xoxo

sadie hwang

tw death lowkey based on you've reached sam & some story i saw on r/nosleep once. sadie's boyfriend died in a car accident & now every friday he calls her and she tries to save him. maybe your muse is one of her friends and is worried about her, maybe they're a new love interest, maybe if we plot it out really well they're her dead boyfriend???

kim eunji

get eunji a boyfriend 2k24 that's all

nam sangchul ✨

tw super junior fc sangchul’s former members!! tl;dr sangchul was the maknae of a boy group called attention when he was 18 until he got into a car accident & after a year of being unhappy he decided to leave the group. it’s been sixteen years & he’s managed to find something that works for him but!!! please god imagine threads w/ him & the rest of attention!! we can decide how successful they were or weren’t, whether they’re still together now or whether they disbanded, all that fun stuff

bong sungmin

ahem celebrity friends with benefits plot?? except maybe your muse catches feelings & sungmin doesn’t know how to deal with that because maybe he’s catching feelings too & trying to pretend he isn’t 🤧

shin raewon pt.1

i’m just a big old sucker for regular customer plots so like?? a girl ( or maybe a guy u know, try and catch him off guard ) that’s been coming to the cafe since it opened & knows all the staff and is just super nice & non-creepy and yeah that’s all i got man

shin raewon pt.2

raewon works at a yaoi cafe and i want coworkers for him that’s it that’s the connection. give him work pals to hang out with away from the cafe, work pals to bitch about weird customers with & gossip about customers they think are Hot™ ( except don’t let his gf find out about that bit lmao ) 

park seunghyun ✨

if you’ve seen cherry magic that’s a bonus but the tl;dr is u get magic powers if ur still a virgin by the time u turn 30. enter seunghyun, our 30 year old virgin. once again the opportunities are plentiful. nosy colleagues, overbearing family members, someone to deflower him, take your pick

aloïs fournier ✨

god how does anyone not know what’s coming for this one i have posted about it 9000 times ever since this stupid cb was announced. A SET OF CONNECTED TBZ MUSES BASED ON THE CONCEPT FOR THE STEALER BUT INSTEAD OF THIS STEALING HEARTS PUSSY SHIT THEY’RE JUST REGULAR CAREER CRIMINALS!!! aloïs is ur resident diamond thief & he’s ready 2 be in a criminal gang

bae seolwoo

tw super junior fc he's divorced! he's a high functioning alcoholic! he's a deadbeat dad! he's the perfect candidate for a university student with terrible taste in men! to talk in fanfic/booktok terms, a sappy grumpy/sunshine cliche. it doesn't have to be a university student (he's a lecturer, that's bad!) but no one in their 30s is going to tolerate him if we're being honest

kwon sanggyun ✨

sanggyun hunts monsters with his besties but only because his main bestie is super hot & sanggyun's in love with him. except seungmin (the bff) has a boyfriend or whatever ugh. what if a cunning shapeshifter pretended to be seungmin & sanggyun was none the wiser???

[stormblessed95]

Okay, so you probably don’t follow Stray Kids and won’t really get this and that’s fine, but I just had to share ‘cause my mind is like… a little blown right now. So for years now most of the SKZ fandom has been suspecting that the possibility that Minho and Jisung are like… romantically together is a real one. Not even in a shippy way; like they have their shippers, but plenty of people who don’t “ship” them are still like “yeah, they’re probably together.” They very frequently just kind of… do things that make people raise eyebrows, you know?

Notably: Jisung has pointed to Minho when a poster asked who his girlfriend was (I think something similar actually happened multiple times). Jisung recently allegedly introduced himself as Minho’s boyfriend at a music show (2 diff. sources, but it’s not really verifiable). There’s an infamous live where a commenter asks Jisung, “Do you have a husband?” And he responds, “Not yet.” To which Chan unprompted (like Minho wasn’t even in the room with them) says, “Isn’t [Minho] your husband.” (This was interesting to me regardless of Minsung because of the whole “yet” thing when responding to a question about having a “husband”, male specifically, thing.) Their entire episode of 2 Kids Room is just… interesting.

And that’s just some of them, if I were to list and source all of the things they’ve done over the years it would take ages. Anyway, the kids recently renewed their contracts with JYPE and they split into dorms of pairs (they previously lived 4-4 separately). Anyway, Minho and Jisung are one of those pairs and Hyunjin was like, “Minho and Jisung are together, no surprise.” Their reaction to that comment was also interesting, low key. (Oh, and for context they were previously spilt up between the two dorms.)

I don’t ship them or anything, but it’s actually crazy bro. I’m like sitting here in shock. I’m not really looking for your opinion or anything; you probably don’t know enough about the situation to give one, it’s just like—I have no words. Sorry I just had to share ‘cause I’m just a little befuddled. Nobody actually thought that this was happening. People were speculating because of cars and stuff that they had switched dorms, but even I was like like, “I’m staying out of this speculation. Who knows, let’s wait for confirmation.” And well we got confirmation. And they can actually say it cause it’s not weird if everybody’s in pairs, right? Guess it will be interesting to see if they ever move out or if in the future when everybody else has their own place, they’re like, “Well, we’re already living together and I guess we don’t really see a reason to move just yet.” I don’t know… I’m just really fascinated by all this. Not “excited,” like I said I don’t ship them, genuinely fascinated. Obviously, it’s not a whole relationship confirmation or anything and I would say I’m maybe 60/40(?) on the whole thing. In the end, I don’t think anybody needs to know and I don’t particularly care myself to 100% know, but it’s still a little crazy to me.

I have a friend who follows stray kids and they have been filling me in a little bit on who the members are and they also have apparently been eyeing this pair the same as you! I'll be sending them this post too lol, hope that's okay! I really don't know much about this group at all, but I am learning a little bit through osmosis from my friend 😂🥰 I do actually really enjoy the songs of theirs I've heard too

This is who popped up when I typed their names into the gif search, so hopefully that's right!

Thanks for sharing with me 💜❤️

[teratalia]

Funouhan yandere: Usobuki TadashixReader

I wrote most of this while bored at work ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

AO3 link!!

Quick notes: fem reader, ngl I tried to stay as close to canon as humanly possible, description of death, no smut (yet)

“Haha…how pitiful humans are.”

“What?” You turn around, not sure if the stranger was talking to you. “Can I help you with something?”

“Maybe you can.” The man steps up to you, ruffling his messy dark hair with a casual grin. “I’m lost, I think. I’m looking for the closest convenience store, can you direct me?”

“Oh, sure! I’m actually headed there now, if you follow me,” you reply with a friendly smile. You don’t feel the need to be too cautious because it’s daylight and there are plenty of people around, and you keep your wits around you even when guiding this person.

“Thanks. I’m Tadashi, I appreciate it.”

You introduce yourself and shake his hand, which is oddly cold to the touch. Judging by the pale skin and bags under his eyes, you almost liken him to a vampire. Attractive like one too, in a weird way.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” You ask as you head into the store.

“Yeah, cat toys and cat food and cat beds and…”

With a giggle, you point him in the direction of the pet supplies. “New cats, huh?”

“Yeah, they’re a handful,” he says with an exaggerated yawn. “Thanks, miss. Maybe we’ll cross paths again.”

You do your own shopping and leave the store, headed back home. By the time you get home, you notice an extra box that you don’t remember picking up. It’s some of your favorite cookies with a little handwritten note: Thanks for today. Enjoy. - Tadashi

“Wow, how’d he sneak this in my cart without me noticing? Oh well, free cookies,” you shrug, taking a quick look at the box. It was unopened and not tampered with at all, so you happily pop it open and grab a cookie, taking a big bite.

With a hum, you savor the bite, settling down in front of the TV and putting on whatever as you eat. You zone out as commercials play.

“So, how are the cookies?”

With a yelp, you nearly drop the box, spinning to see Tadashi standing nearby, grinning at you.

“How the hell did you get in my apartment?” You yell, scooting to the other side of the couch. He sits at the farthest end, leaning back as if he owned the place.

“The door was left open.”

“No, it definitely wasn’t!”

He chuckles and shrugs. “Believe me or not, are you sure you want to keep eating those cookies? Look again.”

Ice cold fear runs through your veins. Had he done something to the cookies, after all? You open the box again, staring at normal-looking cookies. As he watches, you pick one up, inspecting it at all angles and even sniffing it.

“What’d you do to these cookies, Tadashi? They look normal…but whatever, I don’t want them anymore.” You toss the box at him, which he catches perfectly.

His eyebrows are raised, and he stares at you in shock. Slowly, he smiles again, though there’s something so off-putting about his expression.

“I didn’t do anything, actually. I just thought I’d play a little prank on my new friend.”

“Friend? Since when are we friends? I gave you directions exactly once and then you broke into my place–”

“Came in through the unlocked door–”

“And now you’re insisting we’re friends? Get out already!”

Tadashi full-on laughs as he stands up, taking the cookie box with him. “You’re a fun one, I like you. Be seeing you.”

And you did start to see him after that, the messy-haired man with the cold eyes and dark aura. More and more, you saw him: out of the corner of your eye when walking down the street, chatting casually with your coworkers during your lunch breaks, sidling up to you after work to hang out, inviting himself over to your apartment on weekends with a cat in tow. You didn’t really have a choice in the matter, and somehow you actually did end up becoming friends, though more out of pity on your end. You sensed that he was lonely and probably didn’t have other friends, and that’s why he liked bothering you so much. So you accepted it, let him visit you with cats (an added bonus), let him join you on lunch breaks, let him insert himself into your life little by little. 

At some point, he’d basically moved into your place with his cats, though you made him give up a handful of them for adoption so now you were down to a manageable three. (“And good riddance! You can keep him, young lady!” said his former landlord.) Sometimes he would leave during odd hours of the night and come back at random times, and whenever you asked he simply dodged the question. All he would tell you is that he’s working. On what, you probably wouldn’t ever know, but at least he managed to keep up his part of the rent every month.

One day, the two of you are walking arm in arm through the local park when someone shouts your boyfriend’s name. Surprised because you don’t normally see him interact with others, you turn to see a man in a suit run up to you, looking frantic and frazzled.

“Ah, if it isn’t Detective Tada.” Tadashi sounds pleased. “Have I introduced my girlfriend to you?”

“Oh wow, a friend of Tadashi’s? It’s nice to meet you, Detective.” You shake his hand as he glances between the two of you, clearly a little speechless. Eventually he reins it in and forces an awkward smile.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Usobuki is such a troublemaker and I haven’t seen him in a while so I was getting worried.”

You glance up at your boyfriend, who merely shrugs. Did he have run-ins with the law in the past? “He’s fine, he’s with me and our cats a lot. Did you need something?”

“No, ma’am. Just…” The detective narrows his eyes. “There have been some odd disappearances in the area lately. Be careful, okay? Here’s my number if you ever need…help.” Tada glares at Tadashi before nodding to you, slipping his business card into your hand.

“Thanks, Detective.”

“Thanks for your hard work, Detective Tada. See you round.” Tadashi winks and pulls you away before Tada can say anything more. He stares after you with worry etched into his face.

“You’re friends with a detective, Tadashi?” You ask. “Since when?”

“Due to my…work, you could say. I have to work closely with law enforcement from time to time.”

You gasp, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. “You work with law enforcement? How cool! I bet you guys are working on the disappearances, huh? How noble.” No wonder he couldn’t tell you much about the job, it was probably top secret, you rationalize his actions in your head.

He chuckles at your naivety, secretly glad you’re not pressing the topic. “That’s right, babe. And that’s why I want you to be careful, okay? There are all sorts of people out here, not all as nice as me.”

You nudge his shoulder playfully. “I don’t know if ‘nice’ is how I would describe you, sweetie, but if you say so.”

***

After a really difficult day at work, you come home to fling yourself into your boyfriend’s lap, cuddling one of your cats as you ramble about your most annoying coworker.

“Ugh, it’s like Akane has something against me!” You complain, scratching the cat behind her ears. “She keeps trying to throw me under the bus. I’m glad my boss knows I’m a good worker and was on my side, but what is her deal? It’s like she’s trying to turn others against me. Our other coworker, Yuuto, even told her to back off.”

“Hmm…” Tadashi hums quietly, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Would you like me to help you?”

“You’re already helping,” you mumble, nuzzling into him as your cat purrs in your arms. “And little Hazuki is also very helpful, aren’t you, girl?” She meows her agreement. Satoka and Suzuki are both curled up nearby, napping together in a patch of sunlight.

“No, my dear. Is there a…request you wish me to fulfill?” His voice is quiet in your ear, tone light with something odd simmering below the surface.

You stiffen as a chill runs down your spine. You’re not sure if he’s joking anymore, and you’re afraid to ask what he means.

“N-no, it’s fine,” you mumble. “It’s just some petty squabbles, is all.”

“Are you sure? You don’t want me to, say, make this Akane stop bothering you at work?” Why does he sound hopeful?

“No, Tadashi.” You try to be more firm. “Whatever you’re thinking, I don’t want it.”

“Okay, okay.” He sighs, burying his face in your neck. “I’d gladly help you if you would just ask. You could be my favorite client, you know.”

“No, thank you. Don’t bring your work home.”

“No promises.” He gently nips at your neck, making you giggle.

Unfortunately his work does end up following you, in the weirdest of ways. Barely days after that little chat, Tadashi’s mood starts to change. You notice that he’s more protective of you, pushing you away from the street as you walk down the sidewalk, always there waiting patiently for you to come home from work, sometimes even bringing you back home himself. As you leave the building, you see him stare over your head at someone, and turn just in time to see Akane walking away. Maybe you saw that wrong, because how would he possibly know what she looks like? 

As all this is happening in your home life, there’s an odd shift at work as well. Akane starts being nicer to you, offering to grab you a coffee or buy you lunch every so often. Even as she smiles at you, it never reaches her eyes. Eventually you call her out for being so weird with you, and she sighs.

“Look, I just wanted to apologize for being so nasty to you this past year. You’re not a bad employee at all; if anything, you’re a great employee. We all know it. I just have a hard time apologizing. Tell you what, can I treat you to some food tonight? I’ll buy you dinner, how about it?”

You agree, albeit reluctantly. If this makes her stop being weird, then fine.

When you mention this new plan to your boyfriend, his expression doesn’t change. “Have fun,” is all he says.

You go out to meet her that night, and she takes you to this expensive, exclusive sushi place. You’re escorted to a private room and they just start bringing out dish after dish, with heaps of side dishes and alcohol to go with it.

When you look to Akane, she just says, “It’s on me. Enjoy it.”

She pours the both of you a drink and clinks glasses with you before taking a sip. Following suit, you drink, only to notice that the liquid tastes off. There’s a strange saltiness that it shouldn’t have, and you put the glass down and gag a little.

“What is that? If it’s expensive, you need to get your money back.”

Akane laughs, practically cackling. You stare in horror as she reveals a small bottle filled with cloudy, translucent liquid, marked with a blank label.

“I can assure you, I’m getting my money’s worth. Just not in the way you think.”

Throwing the little bottle down onto the table, she stands, laughing even louder. 

“Finally, I’m getting rid of you! My biggest rival.”

Rival? You never thought of her as more than an annoying coworker, so did she see you as an arch nemesis this whole time? You think it would probably make things worse if you told her that she was never more than a brief thought in your mind, so you kept quiet.

“Yes, you’re a good employee, but you’ve always been so stuck up! You always thought you were better than me!”

“You could have just, I don’t know, worked on improving your skills instead of focusing on me?” You mumble under your breath. Akane is too wrapped up in her monologue to hear.

“And even Yuuto, my darling Yuuto, stood up for you and defended you!”

“Darling?” You ask incredulously. “Isn’t he married? Isn’t this year his fifth marriage anniversary?”

“So what?” She screeches, nails gouging into the wooden table. “He knows that we are meant to be! I know that he will leave his wife for me…when I finally get rid of you.”

“Yuuto and I are just friendly coworkers,” You say, trying to calm her down. “Neither of us have said anything remotely flirtatious. Like, ever.”

“Oh, shut up! You might have fooled everyone, but you never fooled me! And now, within the hour, you’ll be gone and I’ll be here to take your place! At work, and in Yuuto’s life!”

Right, the liquid she snuck into your cup. You guessed it was poison, but really it only tasted like overly salty water. And you didn’t feel any different, so maybe you could bide your time and get to a hospital.

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” Tadashi gave a heavy sigh, entering the private room.

“Ah, Usobuki! You’ve already fulfilled your end of the bargain, and now my rival will die, so I don’t need your services anymore.”

“Yeah, about that. We’ve had a change of plans, actually. Look at the bottle again.”

Akane picked it up and gasped. “It…is this even poison? It doesn’t look like it! What did you do, Usobuki?” She glared at him, but something in his expression turned her anger into horror.

“It is poison, actually. But are you sure you put it in the right cup?”

Instantly, she reeled back, clutching at her own throat. 

“No…no, why…this isn’t what I wanted…”

A dark chuckle. “No, it’s what I wanted.”

“Th-then if I’ll die, I’m going to take her with me–!”

You reel back in your chair, but she doesn’t head your way. Instead, she lunges into the table between you, sending plates flying. Akane makes a choking sound, and you realize something is lodged in her throat.

“It’s just a small rice ball, spit it out!” You cry, frozen in place.

“Is it just a rice ball? They did bring out sea urchins, too,” says Tadashi, and Akane’s eyes bulge. Spots of blood appear all over her neck, as if it’s being punctured from the inside. Eventually, Akane’s whole body goes limp, eyes rolling in the back of her head, never to open again.

It’s hard to breathe. You can’t figure out what just happened, and your chest heaves as your eyes fill with tears.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. It’s okay. Breathe with me slowly.” Tadashi is kneeling in front of you, blocking the view of the scene behind him. With his help, you get your breathing under control, but you still can’t stop from crying.

Gently, he pulls you up, bringing you out of the private room. The restaurant host sees your distress and asks about it.

All you can say is, “I couldn’t help her,” while trying not to burst into loud sobs. 

“I think her friend was allergic and just didn’t know,” explains Tadashi as he guides you out of the building. Before you know it, you’re back at home, curled around a pillow in bed crying your eyes out as the cats gather around you, clearly worried about you.

The next day, you wake up with a headache, eyes still stinging from crying yourself to sleep. Gratefully you grab the painkillers and wash them down with the glass of water, all conveniently on your nightstand, only for the memories of last night to come rushing back. You double over, coughing on your water, hoping that the pills you just took weren’t poison after all.

“My dear, you’re awake.” Tadashi appears at your side out of nowhere, patting you on the back. Instantly you recoil from him, putting pillows as a barrier in between you. As you finish your coughing fit, Tadashi smiles sadly at you.

“L-leave me alone,” you gasp. 

“Oh, my darling. Normally I’m used to horrified stares, but I don’t like it coming from you.” His pout, which you would normally find charming, just makes you angrier.

“If you aren’t going to leave, then explain,” you practically spit at him, glaring daggers.

“I had hoped you would never find out, but I suppose it had to happen. So. My mysterious job that you don’t know about. I’m an assassin. I take clients who put murder requests at a certain phone booth in the city.”

He says all this so casually that you almost don’t believe him, but you couldn’t begin to understand yesterday without this.

“You kill people.” Your voice is a nearly unrecognizable monotone. “But how did you kill Akane without touching her?”

Tadashi explains to you about his method of killing. As much as you don’t want to hear it, you feel like you need to know, so you listen to him describe his hypnotism and tricking people into hallucinated deaths or suicides.

“It is the ultimate defense, the impossibility defense. Because who can convict me when there is zero physical evidence of me doing anything?”

You stare down at the pillow in your lap as you clutch onto it like a lifeline. 

“Akane was the client who introduced me to you way back then,” Tadashi explained.

You could barely look him in the eye anymore, but you motion weakly for him to continue.

“She wanted you gone for a while now. That first time she commissioned me to kill you was the day I first met you, and you guided me to the store. You were supposed to eat the cookies, see them as acid-covered balls of razor wire, and choke to death.” He says all this so matter-of-factly, it makes you sick. “But that didn’t happen. You’re immune to my hypnotism, my dear, and that’s what makes you special.”

“So why didn’t you just kill me some other way?” you whisper.

He shrugs. “Didn’t want to. Not like that. And I decided I already liked you. So I hypnotized Akane to forget that she ever requested your death. But she ended up trying again, so this time I’d had enough of her and decided to get rid of her before she did something to you herself.”

Don’t justify killing her like you’re doing it for my benefit, you think to yourself.

“So you’re a murderer who never does his own killing and can’t be proven to be a murderer. Yet you call yourself an assassin, like it’s cool? Like a vigilante or something? But aren’t you doing this for your own sick pleasure?”

For a moment, you worry that your sharp words might anger him, but he simply laughs. “Isn’t it interesting to watch how humans think, the way they act? Such fools, thinking they can get rid of their problems so easily by hiring me. But humans are so foolish, so hopeless. I do this because they ask me to. And I’ve steadily lost faith in humanity…until I met you.” He pins you with his intense gaze. “You’re different. Any darkness in you is dwarfed by the light. You could have asked me to get rid of Akane, and I would have gladly done so for you. But you never did. You even tried to help her after she tried to kill you with salty water. I find you fascinating. Won’t you help me regain my hope for humanity?”

Stunned, you say nothing. He caresses your face gently before getting up and leaving, probably to give you some space.

The cold touch of his skin lingers on yours, sending shards of ice into your heart. What does it matter that you don’t fall for his hypnotism, when you’re trapped with him regardless?

The door opens a crack to reveal a cat, pushing his face through to meow at you. Suzuki trots up to you, jumping into your lap and rubbing his face against your shirt.

You know that the cats can’t open the doors by themselves, so Tadashi must have opened it for him. Why did he have to be so nice, even after all this?

Lying down with the cat in your arms, you shut your eyes, stinging with unshed tears. You pretend not to notice that Tadashi is peeking through the doorway at you, brow furrowed with quiet concern.